THE MARCH TO MAGDALA.
On board Transport General Havelock,
December 1st, 1867.
I am happy to say that, speaking personally, the Abyssinian
expedition has begun. I am on my way to that cheerful
and well-ordered country. Had I known on landing in Bombay
that I should be detained there for a month, I should
have made myself very comfortable, and should have enjoyed
myself exceedingly. But I thought that, although the Commander-in-chief
and the main body of the expedition were
not sailing for two months, I should do better to push on at
once. I accordingly applied for a passage, and was promised
one as soon as possible. This phrase, as soon as possible,
in the mouth of an ordinary individual, means something.
From an official it means just nothing. It is merely
one of those vague ambiguities in which the official mind
delights. It is a phrase which admits of no argument whatever.
Day after day passed, and nothing came of it. A steamer
or two started, but although we expressed our willingness to
sleep on deck, and put up with any accommodation whatever,
no room could be found. One of our number, hopeless
and disgusted, took passage in the last Peninsular and
Oriental steamer, and is probably at the present moment wandering
about Aden, praying for a passage across. I thought
it better to wait here until I could be taken direct to our
destination. At last came the intelligence that our horses
could be put on board a sailing-ship. This was something
done, and I felt really thankful when, after a long day’s work,
I left the ship’s side, leaving the horses and their syces on
board. Indeed, the servant question is one of the most serious
of those which present themselves to the mind of an intending
Abyssinian expeditionist. It is not difficult to get one.
You only have to speak, to get half-a-dozen servants and
syces. But you know, both by the warnings of your friends
and by your own instincts, that so many applicants, so many
rogues. It is at present the very best profession in Bombay
to get hired to a master going to Abyssinia, and to disappear
two days before he leaves with his purse and any
other portable valuables which may come handy. My first
servant, a mild Hindoo of engaging aspect, was seized with
a pulmonary affection, while his brother, who was servant to
a friend of mine, was at the last moment melted by the tears
of an aged and despairing mother, and both left us; but not
until some hours after their departure did we find that they
had, of course accidentally, carried away with them a considerable
amount of specie and small valuables. When at last
a servant is obtained who really does mean to go to Abyssinia,
there is no little trouble to be gone through with him.
He must have a month’s, or perhaps two months’, pay in advance.
He must have an arrangement made for the payment
of the greater part of his wages to his family during his
absence. He must be provided, at your expense, with warm
clothes, boots, blankets, &c.; and all this with the strong
chance of his bolting at the last moment. One of my syces
alarmed me greatly by not turning up on the morning when
the horses were to be embarked; but he finally appeared upon
the landing-stage just as they were being slung into a lighter,
three hours after the time named. Whether he or any of the
syces finally accompanied the horses I am unable to say, as
the ship, instead of sailing that afternoon as positively settled
by the authorities, was detained three or four days; and it is
very probable that during that time the syces slipped ashore
with their warm clothes, advance of wages, &c. This painful
question cannot be solved until the ship with the horses
arrives at Annesley Bay. Another four or five days passed,
and then came the welcome order to go at once on board
the General Havelock, which was to start the next day at
noon. On board we accordingly went, but found, as we anticipated,
that there was no chance of her starting for that
day at any rate. The usual conflict of departments was taking
place. Some department had ordered a force of twenty
European soldiers and fifty Sepoys belonging to the transport
train to come on board. This they did. Then came a
committee of some other department, and questioned whether
the Havelock was fit to carry this force, and whether
they had not better be transferred to some other ship.
Finding that the men’s things were all below, it was determined
to leave them as they were. Then the same committee,
with a view, I suppose, of making the vessel more
comfortable, determined to send three and a half tons of
gunpowder on board, and with this intent sent a carpenter
in the course of the afternoon, who took down the only
available bath, and prepared to convert the same into a powder-magazine.
The next morning the same carpenter came
on board and brought some more tools, and then returned
to shore. In the afternoon he fetched the tools away. In
the mean time one department had sent the water-lighter
alongside; but another department had sent no tanks on
board to receive it. Presently that department sent some
tanks, but as it had not occurred to it to measure the hatchways,
the tanks were considerably larger than the opening
down which they had to go, so they had to be taken away
and a fresh set of tanks brought on board. Then, long after
dusk, the water-ship again came alongside, and we took in
our water. In the mean time we went ashore to the department
which had sent us on board, to ask when it was probable
that the Havelock would really sail. We were assured
by that department that she had already started, and we had
great difficulty in persuading it that she was still at anchor,
and likely to remain so. The next morning, the powder not
having arrived, and nothing more having been heard either
of it or of the carpenter, our captain got up steam and
started; and it is by no means improbable that the powder,
with one or two committees of departments, are at present
cruising about Bombay harbour looking for the Havelock.
And yet ours is an absolutely favourable example, for a
steamer last week was detained six days after the date of
the embarkation of its passengers. And if this confusion
exists now, when only one or two vessels are starting a-week,
what a scene of confusion will it be when the main body of
the force sails! It always is so, and always will be so, as
long as our army is managed by a set of independent departments,
who have no concert whatever between them. We
have here the quartermaster-general’s department, the
commissariat, the land-transport, the marine, the
adjutant-general’s department, the ordnance, and so on ad infinitum.
Military men are the first and loudest to complain of this
multiplication of offices without union or concert, which work
together well enough in quiet times, but which in emergencies
paralyse each other’s efforts, and cause a confusion in
exact proportion to their own number. It needs some military
reformer of an iron will, and an assured parliamentary
support, to put an end to all this, to do away with the independence
of the various departments of the service, and
to make them all subordinate branches of the adjutant-general’s
office; so that a general upon service may give his
orders to his adjutant-general only, and the latter may instruct
the officers of the departments under him as to what
should be done. All indents and orders should be given to
him alone, and he should be responsible for the working of
the several branches. In some respects it turned out to be
as well that we had not started at the time named, for at
night, when the rations were served out to the troops, it
was found that both the porter and arrack, which form a
somewhat important part of a soldier’s rations, had not been
sent on board by the commissariat. Great was the consternation.
However, fortunately next day, while departments
were skirmishing over water and water-tanks, and the carpenter
was going and coming with his tools, there was time
to send to the commissariat, and for them to repair their
error.
The General Havelock is a steamer of about 250 tons,
and the object of her builders appears to have been to combine
the maximum of rolling qualities with the minimum of
speed. In calm weather she can steam six and a half knots
an hour; in a slight swell she can roll to an angle of
thirty-five degrees. Having said this, I have said all that can be
said in dispraise of the vessel. She has capital accommodation
for a ship of her size, a snug little poop-deck, extremely
comfortable seats and chairs, a perfect absence of any smell
from the engine-room, and one of the jolliest skippers in existence.
So we are very comfortable. We are five in number;
three officers of the Land Transport Corps, and two
specials;
and as we get under the awnings on the poop-deck,
while a fair breeze is helping us along at the rate of
eight knots an hour, we agree that we have all the advantages
of keeping a steam-yacht without the expense. The
charge Government makes to officers while on board is eight
rupees a-day, which is handed over to the captain of the
ship, who has to supply everything for that sum. I do not
think that the captain of the Havelock will be a gainer by
this transaction. We all sleep on deck, not from necessity,
for there are plenty of berths below, but partly because the
nights on deck are charming, although a little cold, and
partly from horror of a species of monster, which appears
to me to be as large as cats—but this may be the effect
of imagination and extreme terror—and to run much faster.
They have many legs, and horns resembling bullocks’. They
are fearless of man, and indeed attack him with ferocity.
I call them vampires—their ordinary name is cockroaches.
This sleeping on deck is attended with occasional drawbacks.
Last night I was awakened by a splash of water on my face.
Thinking it was spray, I pulled my rug over my face, but
only for an instant, for a rush of water came down upon
me as if emptied from a bucket. In an instant everyone was
upon his feet, and began dragging his bed over to the leeward
side of the ship. But it was no use. The rain tore
across the deck as if pumped by a hundred steam fire-engines,
and nothing remained for us but to beat a retreat
down through the cabin staylight, for to go outside the awning
by the ordinary poop-ladder was out of the question.
Our first amazement and consternation over, we had a great
laugh as we gained the cabin-floor, drenched through, and
with our silk sleeping-dresses clinging to us in the most
uncomfortable manner. By the time we had changed these
the storm was over as suddenly as it had begun, and taking
fresh rugs we soon regained our beds, which, turned over,
were dry enough on the lower side for all practical purposes.
Over the engine-room is a large bridge-deck, and here
are the quarters of the European soldiers, twenty-five in
number, while the sepoys occupy the main deck. Both the
Europeans and sepoys are volunteers from various regiments
into the Land Transport Train. This is a newly-organised
corps, and is only formed for the purposes of the expedition,
both officers and men returning at its conclusion to their
regiments. It is commanded by Major Warden, and consists
of fourteen divisions, each containing two thousand baggage-animals.
To look after each of these divisions are a
captain and two subalterns, together with thirty-eight men—Europeans
and sepoys, who are divided into four classes.
When it is remembered that among the two thousand animals
are oxen, horses, mules, camels, and elephants, and that
there will be an attendant to each two animals, it will be
seen that the post of officer in a division of the Land Transport
Corps will be by no means a sinecure. His difficulties,
too, will be heightened by the fact that the drivers will be
men of innumerable nationalities and races—Spaniards and
Italians with the mules, Greeks from Smyrna and Beyrout,
Egyptians and Nubians, Arabs and Affghans, together with
men from all the varied tribes of India. The sepoys who
are with us do not appear to me at all the sort of men for
the service. They belong entirely to infantry regiments,
and are quite unaccustomed to horses. The Hindoo is not
naturally a horseman; and to take a number of infantry
sepoys and put them on horses, and set them at once to
severe work, is an absurdity, which will be speedily demonstrated
to be such by the men being knocked up and in hospital
by the end of the first week. Only men belonging
to the native cavalry should have been allowed to volunteer.
It is true that many of the Europeans also belong to line
regiments, but the same objection does not hold good to
them, for most Englishmen are more or less accustomed to
horses, and if not they soon fall into it.
Annesley Bay, December 4th.
Our voyage has not terminated so uneventfully as it began,
and I am no longer writing on board the General Havelock,
but on the Salsette, a very fine Peninsular and Oriental
steamer, having a portion of the 33d regiment from Kurrachee
on board, and having the Indian Chief, with another
portion of the same regiment, in tow. This Red-Sea navigation
is a most intricate and dangerous business, and this
western shore is in particular completely studded with
islands and coral-reefs. These islands differ entirely in
their character—some are bold rocks rising perpendicularly
from the water with rugged peaks and fantastic outlines, and
attaining an elevation of two or three hundred feet; others,
far more dangerous, are long flat islets, rising only two or
three feet above the sea, and imperceptible on a dark night
at a distance of fifty yards. Still others, again, most dangerous
of all, have not yet attained the dignity even of islets,
although millions of little insects work night and day to bring
them up to the surface. These are the coral-reefs, which,
rising from a depth of many fathoms to within a few feet of
the surface, form so many pitfalls to the unsuspecting mariner.
The General Havelock was running along the coast
with a favourable breeze, and we had been all the morning
watching the low shore, with its stunted bushes and the
strangely-conical hills which rise from it, bearing a fantastic
resemblance to haycocks, and barns, and saddles, and
with a mighty range of mountains in the distance. These
mountains had a strange interest to us, for among and over
them we have to go. They were our first sight of Abyssinia,
and were by no means encouraging as a beginning.
In this way we spent the morning, and after lunch were
about to resume doing nothing, when we were startled by
hearing the man who was standing in the chains heaving the
lead, shout out, Five fathoms!
His call two minutes before
had been ten fathoms. The captain shouted Stop
her!
Turn her astern!
and the chief engineer leapt below
to see the order carried out. In the momentary pause
of the beat of the screw, the leadman’s voice called out
Two fathoms!
The screw was reversed, and a rush of
yellow foaming water past the side of the ship told us at
once that it was at work, and that the sandy bottom was
close to her keel. Very gradually we stopped, and were
congratulating ourselves on the near shave we had had,
when, looking over her side, we saw that, vigorously as the
screw was working astern, the ship remained just where
she was. The General Havelock was palpably ashore. At
first we were disposed to make light of the affair, for,
grounding as she did imperceptibly, we imagined that she
would get off with little difficulty. Accordingly we first
worked ahead, then astern, but with an equal absence of
result. The head and stern both swung round, but she was
fast amidships, and only moved as on a pivot. The troops
were now ordered on deck, and were massed, first aft and
then forward; but the General Havelock gave no sign.
Then it was resolved to roll her, the men running in a body
from side to side. Then we tried to jump her off. The
whole of the Europeans and sepoys were set to jump in
time—first on one side, and then on the other. A funnier
sight, eighty men, black and white, leaping up and down,
and then going from side to side, could not be conceived.
Everyone laughed except those who swore when their naked
feet were jumped upon by the thick ammunition-boots of
some English soldier. Presently the laughter abated, for
everyone was getting too hot even to laugh. The scene
was strangest at this time, and reminded me, with the
leaping figures, the swarthy skins, and the long hair, more
of a New Zealand war-dance than anything I had ever seen.
Hours passed in experiments of this sort, but still the General
Havelock remained immovable, only when the sun went
down and the wind rose she rolled almost as heavily as if
afloat, and lifted on the waves and fell into her bed with a
heavy bump which was very unpleasant. Boats were now
lowered and soundings taken, and it was found that the
water was deeper on nearly every side than at the exact spot
upon which we had struck. Hawsers were got out and the
men set to work at the capstan; but the anchors only drew
home through the sandy bottom, and brought up branches
of white coral. Part of the crew were all this time occupied
in shifting the cargo. But in spite of every effort the
ship remained perfectly fast. It was evident that she would
not move until a portion at least of her cargo was removed
from her. While we were debating how this was to be done,
for the shore on either side was a good mile distant, the
wind fresh, and the boats small, an Arab dhow, which we
had observed running down, anchored about a hundred yards
off. The Sheik came on board, and after immense talk
agreed to come alongside for three or four hours to take a
portion of the cargo and the troops on board, and so to
lighten our ship. When the bargain was closed, and the
sum to be paid agreed upon, he discovered that there was
not water enough for his boat to float alongside. The negotiations
thus came to an end, and the Sheik returned to his
own craft. Soon after another and larger dhow came up and
anchored at a short distance. We sent off to see if he could
help us, but it seemed that he had no less than seventy-two
camels on board bound for Annesley Bay. How the poor
brutes could have been stowed in a boat which did not look
large enough to hold twenty at the very most, I cannot imagine,
and they had come in that state all the way from Aden.
About an hour after we had got ashore, a large steamer,
which we knew by her number to be the Salsette, with a
ship in tow, had passed at a distance of about three miles,
and to her we signalled for assistance. She, however, passed
on, and anchored with her consort under the lee of an island,
and about six miles off. We had given up all hopes of aid
from her, and had begun as a last resource to throw our
coal overboard, when at nine o’clock in the evening we saw
a boat approaching with a lug-sail. When she came alongside
she turned out to belong to the Salsette, which had most
fortunately orders to anchor at the spot where we had seen
her. We found, on conversation with the officer who had
come on board, that, loaded with troops as she was, it would
not be safe for her to come within towing distance of us,
and therefore that she must leave us to our fate, especially
as we did not appear to be in any immediate danger. They
kindly offered, however, to take my fellow-correspondent
and myself on board, an offer which we gratefully accepted,
as it was quite possible that we might not be off for another
week. When we arrived on board the Salsette we were received
with the greatest kindness, and before starting in the
morning had the satisfaction of seeing the signal flying from
the Havelock of We are afloat.
Relieved from all anxiety on account of our late shipmates,
our servants, and our luggage, we enjoyed the run to Annesley
Bay exceedingly. It is an immense bay, and, indeed,
a finer harbour, once in, could hardly be imagined. The
entrance, however, is intricate and dangerous. Long shoals
extend for miles near its mouth, and there are several islands
within the bay itself. All eyes, or rather all telescopes, were
directed towards the spot which was to be our destination.
My glass, one by Salomans, is a wonderful instrument for its
size, and is indeed far better than any I have tried it against
since I left England. My first impressions of our landing-place
are, I confess, anything but pleasing. A mist hangs over the
land, which excludes a view of the hills, or, indeed, of anything
except the foreshore. This is a dead flat, covered with
low bushes. The town consists of about fifty tents and marbuees,
a large skeleton of a wooden storehouse, piles of hay
and grain-bags, hundreds of baggage-animals, with a throng
of natives wandering about. There is but one pier, and this
is still in course of construction. In the harbour are anchored
a dozen or so of transports and a few native dhows.
Some of these dhows are occupied in transporting forage and
stores from the ships to shore; and as they cannot themselves
approach within a distance of a couple of hundred
yards of the shore, long lines of natives transport the goods
upon their heads to land. One ship is unloading mules;
this she accomplishes by lowering them on to a raft, upon
which they are towed with ropes to within a short distance
of the shore, when the horses are pushed or persuaded to
alight and walk. The Havelock came in just before sunset,
about two hours after ourselves. I have not yet been ashore.
The Beloochees, who arrived yesterday in the Asia and the
Peckforten Castle, are landing to-day.
Annesley Bay, December 6th.
I had not intended to write again until the time of the
departure of the next mail, as my last letter went off only
yesterday morning; but two companies of the 33d regiment
are to land this afternoon and to start at midnight, and as
this is the first body of European troops who have landed, I
think it as well to accompany them to Senafe, sixty miles
distant, where Colonels Merewether and Phayre have gone
up with the pioneer force. They will not advance beyond
this point for some time, and I shall therefore, when I have
seen the passes, return, after a few days’ stay there, to this
place, which is at present the main point of interest. I
should not move from it, indeed, were it not that there is
some doubt whether the King of Tigré will permit us to
pass. He is at present stationed near the head of the pass
with a body of 7000 men, but I fancy his only object in this
is to make us buy his friendship at as high a rate as possible.
If he really means mischief it will be a very serious matter
indeed; for, although we should of course scatter his forces
easily enough, it would give us such an enormous line of
march to be guarded that it would be impossible to move a
step until we had completely subdued Tigré. I sincerely
hope that this will not be the case. But another week or
two will show; and in the mean time, as I shall have plenty
of opportunities of writing on the subject, I must return to
my present topic, which is the state of things at the landing-place
here. It is not, as I said in my last, a cheerful place
to look at from on board ship, but it is very far worse on
landing. The pier is nearly finished, and is a very creditable
piece of work indeed. It is of stone, and about 300
yards long, and is wide enough for a double line of rails.
One line is already laid down, and saves an immensity of
labour; for the goods are landed from the native boats,
which bring them from the ship’s side, are put on to the
trucks, and are run straight into the commissariat yard,
which is fifty yards only from the end of the pier. Before
this pier was finished everything had to be carried on shore
upon the heads of the natives; and as a boat cannot approach
within 300 yards of shore, owing to the shallow water, it
may be imagined how slowly the work of debarcation went
on. The pier is ridiculously insufficient for the purpose.
Even now the ships are lying in the harbour for days, waiting
for means of landing their goods, although lines of natives
still supplement the pier, and pass bales of goods through
the water on their heads. When the whole expedition is here
there will be a complete dead-lock, unless a very great increase
of landing accommodation is afforded. The commissariat
yard is piled with enormous quantities of pressed hay,
Indian and English, grain, rice, &c. They are well arranged,
and in such weather as we have at present there is
no fear of their taking damage from being exposed to the
air, especially as the precaution has been taken to have
trusses of pressed hay laid down as a foundation for the piles
of grain-bags. The commissariat yard is distinguished by the
fact that here only do we see women—bright-coloured, picturesquely-clad
creatures, a hundred of whom have been sent
across from India to serve as grinders of corn. Beside the
commissariat tents are a few others belonging to the other
departments, and these, with a large unfinished wooden storehouse,
at which a dozen Chinese carpenters are at work, constitute
the camp at the landing-place. But this is only a
small portion of the whole, the main camp being a mile and
a half inland; and, indeed, there are half-a-dozen small camps,
a cluster of tents scattered within the circle of a mile.
The reason why the main camp was fixed at such an inconvenient
distance from the landing-place was, that water
was at first obtainable from wells sunk there. But this
supply has ceased some time, and it would be better to concentrate
the offices of the departments near the landing-place,
and that every soul whose presence down here is not
an absolute necessity should be sent up to Koomaylo, which
is fourteen miles inland, and which is the first place at which
water can be obtained. As it is, all living things, man and
beast, have to depend for their supply of water upon the
ships. Every steamer in harbour is at work night and day
condensing water, the average expense being twopence-halfpenny
a gallon for the coal only. The result is of course
an enormous expense to the public, and very great suffering
among the animals.
Leaving the camp, I proceeded to the watering-place, and
here my senses of sight and smell were offended as they
have not been since the days of the Crimea. Dead mules
and camels and oxen lay everywhere upon the shore, and
within a short distance of it. Here and there were heaps of
ashes and charred bones, where an attempt had been made
to burn the carcasses. Others, more lately dead, were surrounded
by vultures, who, gorged with flesh, hardly made an
effort to rise as we approached. One ox had fallen only a
few minutes before we reached it, and several vultures were
already eying it, walking round at a respectful distance, and
evidently not quite assured that the animal was dead. Here
and there half-starved mules wandered about, their heads
down, their ears drooping, and their eyes glazing with approaching
death. Some would stagger down to the sea-side,
and taste again and again the salt water; many of them,
half-maddened by thirst, would drink copiously, and either
drop dead where they stood, or crawl away to die in the low
scrub.
More miserable still was the appearance of the camels.
Several native boats were unloading them at a distance of
two or three hundred yards from shore. The water was
not more than three or four feet deep; but when the poor
beasts were turned into it most of them lay down, with only
their heads above water, and positively refused to make an
effort to walk to land. Some never were able to make the
effort, and their bodies drifted here and there in the smooth
water. Some of the camels had got within fifty yards of
shore, and then had lain down, looking, with their short
bodies and long necks, like gigantic water-fowl. Those who
had been driven ashore were in little better plight. Their
bones seemed on the very point of starting through their
skin, and they lay as if dead upon the sand, uttering feebly
the almost human moaning and complainings peculiar to the
camel. Others had recovered a little. These were endeavouring
to browse the scanty leaves on the bushes around.
Some of these camels have been twenty days on the voyage,
and during this time have been crowded together like sheep
in a pen, with next to nothing either to eat or drink during
the whole time. The wonder is that any of them survived it.
Government suffers no loss by the death of these unfortunates,
as a contractor agreed to deliver them here in a fair
condition, and only those who survive the voyage, and recover
something of their former strength, are accepted and paid for.
At least, this is one version of the story. The other is, that they
are consigned to the Land Transport Corps. That body, however,
receive no intimation of their coming, and boatload after
boatload of camels arrive, and wander away from the beach
to die for want of the water within their reach. At a mile
from the landing-place the scene is painful in the extreme.
Camels and mules wander about in hundreds without masters,
without anything. Here they strive for a few days’
existence by plucking scanty shoots; here they sicken and
die. The scenes were frightful everywhere, but were worst
of all at the watering-troughs. These were miserably-contrived
things. Only ten or a dozen animals could approach
at once; they were so unevenly placed, that when one end
was full to overflowing there was not an inch of water at
the other; and beside this, at a time when water was worth
its weight in gold, they leaked badly. They were only supplied
with water for an hour or so in the morning, and for
a similar time in the evening; and in consequence the scene
was painful in the extreme. There was a guard to preserve
order, but order could not have been kept by ten times as
many men. There were hundreds of transport animals, with
one driver to each five or six of them. What could one
driver do with six half-mad animals? They struggled, they
bit, they kicked, they fought like wild-beasts for a drink of
the precious water for which they were dying. Besides these
led animals were numerous stragglers, which, having broken
their head-ropes, had gone out into the plain to seek a living on
their own account. For these there was no water; they had
no requisition pinned to their ears, and as they failed thus
scandalously to comply with the regulations laid down by the
authorities, the authorities determined that they should have
no water. They were beaten off. Most of them, after a repulse
or two, went away with drooping heads to die; but
some fought for their dear lives, cleared a way to the trough
with heels and teeth, and drank despite the blows which
were showered upon them. I inquired of the Land Transport
Corps why these scattered mules are not collected and fed.
I am told that nearly the whole of these mule- and camel-drivers
have deserted and gone to Massowah. And so it is.
The mules and camels are dying of thirst and neglect; the
advanced brigade cannot be supplied with food; the harbour
is becoming full of transports, because there are no means of
taking the men inland, although there are plenty of animals;
and all this because the land transport men desert. The
officers of that corps work like slaves; they are up early and
late, they saddle mules with their own hands, and yet everything
goes wrong. Why is all this? One reason undoubtedly
is, that the animals have been sent on before the men.
A few officers and a comparatively small body of native followers
are sent out, and to them arrive thousands of bullocks,
thousands of mules, thousands of camels. The Arab followers,
appalled by the amount of work accumulating upon them,
desert to a man, the officers are left helpless. Had a fair
number of officers and followers been sent on to receive the
animals as they came, all might have gone well. It was
simply a miscalculation. And so it is, I regret to say, in
some other departments. You apply for a tent, and are told
there are no bell-tents whatever arrived. You ask for a
pack-saddle, and are told by the quartermaster-general that
there is not a single pack-saddle in hand, and that hundreds
of mules are standing idle for want of them. You ask for
rations, and are informed that only native rations have yet
arrived, and that no rations for Europeans have been sent,
with the exception of the sixty days’ provisions the 33d regiment
have brought with them. Why is this? There are
scores of transports lying in Bombay harbour doing nothing.
Why, in the name of common sense, are they not sent on?
The nation is paying a very fair sum for them, and there
they lie, while the departments are pottering with their petty
jealousies and their petty squabbles.
The fact is, we want a head here. Colonels Merewether
and Phayre have gone five days’ march away, taking with
them all the available transport. Brigadier-General Collings
only arrived yesterday, and of course has not as yet been
able to set things in order. I am happy to say that General
Staveley arrived last night, and I believe that he will soon
bring some order into this chaos. The fact is, that in our
army we leave the most important branch of the service to
shift for itself. Unless the Land Transport Train is able to
perform its duty, nothing can possibly go right; but the Land
Transport Corps has no authority and no power. It is nobody’s
child. The commissariat owns it not, the quartermaster
and adjutant-general know nothing whatever of it.
It may shift for itself. All the lâches of all the departments
are thrown upon its shoulders, and the captains who are
doing the work may slave night and day; but unaided and
unassisted they can do nothing. The land transport should
be a mere subordinate branch of the commissariat; that
department should be bound to supply food at any required
point. Now, all they have to do is to join the other departments
in drawing indents for conveyance upon the unhappy
land transport, and then sitting down and thanking
their gods that they have done everything which could be
expected of them. General Staveley is an energetic officer,
and will, I believe, lose no time in putting things straight.
Even to-day things look more hopeful, for General Collings
yesterday afternoon put the services of 200 Madras dhoolie-bearers
at the disposition of the Transport Corps to supply
the place of the mule- and camel-drivers who have deserted.
I have therefore every hope that in another week I shall
have a very different story to tell. In addition, however,
to the mortality caused by the voyage, by hardships, and by
bad food and insufficient water, there is a great mortality
among the horses and mules from an epidemic disease which
bears a strong resemblance to the cattle-plague. Ten or
twelve of the mules die a day from it, and the 3d Native
Cavalry lost ninety horses from it while they were here. The
district is famous, or rather infamous, for this epidemic; and
the tribes from inland, when they come down into the plain,
always leave their horses on the plateau, and come down on
foot. The Soumalis and other native tribes along this shore
are a quarrelsome lot, and fights are constantly occurring
among the native workmen, who inflict serious, and sometimes
fatal, injuries upon each other with short, heavy clubs
resembling Australian waddies. The washing, at least such
washing as is done, is sent up to Koomaylo. Yesterday two
dhoolies, or washermen, were bringing a quantity of clothes
down to the camp, when they were set upon by some natives,
who killed one and knocked the other about terribly, and
then went off with the clothes.
Some of the ships have brought down the horses in magnificent
condition. The Yorick, which has carried the horses
of the officers of the 33d, is a model of what a horse-ship
should be. The animals are ranged in stalls along the whole
length of her main-deck, and the width is so great that there
is room for a wide passage on either side of the mast. These
passages were laid down with cocoa-nut matting, and the
animals were taken out every day—except once when the
vessel rolled too much—and walked round and round for
exercise. In consequence they arrived in just as good condition
as they were in upon the day of starting. While I am
writing, the Great Victoria is signalled as in sight. This
vessel contains, it is said, the Snider rifles, the warm clothing,
the tents, and many other important necessaries. Her
arrival, therefore, will greatly smooth difficulties and enable
the troops to advance.
At the time that the above letter was written I had only
been a few hours upon shore, and was of course unable to
look deeper than the mere surface. I could therefore only
assign the most apparent reason for the complete break-down
of the transport train. The disaster has now become
historical, and rivalled, if it did not surpass, that of
the worst days of the Crimea; and as for a time it paralysed
the expedition, and exercised throughout a most disastrous
influence, it is as well, before we proceed up the
country, that we should examine thoroughly into its causes.
After a searching inquiry into all that had taken place
prior to my arrival, I do not hesitate to ascribe the break-down
of the transport train to four causes, and in this
opinion I may say that I am thoroughly borne out by ninety-nine
out of every hundred officers who were there. The first
cause was the inherent weakness of the organisation of the
transport train, the ridiculous paucity of officers, both commissioned
and noncommissioned, the want of experienced
drivers, and the ignorance of everyone as to the working of
a mule-train. The second cause was the mismanagement
of the Bombay authorities in sending animals in one ship,
drivers in another, and equipments scattered throughout a
whole fleet of transports, instead of sending each shipload
of animals complete with their complement of drivers and
equipments, as was done by the Bengal authorities. The
third cause was the grossly-overcoloured reports of the officers
of the pioneer force as to the state of water and forage,
and which induced the Bombay authorities to hurry forward
men and animals, to find only a bare and waterless desert.
The fourth reason was the conduct of the above-mentioned
officers in marching with all the troops to Senafe, in
direct disobedience of the orders they had received. This last
cause was the most fatal of all. In spite of the first three
causes all might, and I believe would, have gone tolerably
well, had it not been for the fourth.
At Koomaylo and at Hadoda, each thirteen miles distant
from Zulla, there was water in abundance, together with
bushes and browsing-ground for the camels. Had the animals
upon landing been taken at once to these places, and
there allowed to remain until the time approached for a general
forward movement of the whole army, as Sir Robert
Napier had directed, everything would have gone well. The
officers would have had plenty of time to have effected a
thorough and perfect organisation; the men would have
learnt their new duties, and would have acquired some sort
of discipline; the camels could have gone to Zulla and
brought out forage for the mules; not an animal need have
remained at Zulla, not one have suffered from thirst; and
the immense expense of condensing water for them would
have been avoided, besides the saving of life of many thousands
of animals. But what happened? As I have shown
in the previous chapter, General Napier had said to Colonel
Merewether, in his parting instructions, It is not at all
intended that this force shall take up a position upon the high
land, for which its strength and composition are not fitted;
and again, he had written at the end of October, that if
the news were satisfactory, Staveley’s Brigade would sail,
and upon its arrival the advance may be made.
To Colonel
Phayre he had written October 9th: It is not of course intended
that Colonel Field should move to the high table-land
at Dexan, &c., but shall merely take up such position as
will cover the dépôt and protect the cattle;
and again, in the
same letter: You will understand that it is not my desire
to precipitate a lodgment upon the table-land, which we
should have to retain too long before advancing.
General
Napier, then, had been as explicit as it was possible for a man
to be in his orders that no advance should take place; and
he had specially said, in his memorandum of 7th September,
the subject of the transport train, that great care should be
taken to prevent their being overworked.
And yet, in spite
of these orders, Colonels Merewether and Phayre, together
with Colonel Wilkins,—to whom the making of piers, &c., had
been specially assigned by the General in his instructions
to the pioneer force,—with Colonel Field and the whole of
the troops, start up to Senafe on or about the 1st of December!
And this at a time when two or three large transports
might be expected to arrive daily! The consequences
which might have been expected ensued. The unfortunate
animals, the instant they arrived, were saddled, loaded, and
hurried off without a day to recover from the fatigue of the
voyage. The muleteers were in like way despatched, without
a single hour to acquire a notion of their duties.
Senafe is five days’ march from Zulla, up a ravine of
almost unparalleled difficulty.
Up and down this ravine the wretched animals stumbled
and toiled, starving when in the pass, and dying of thirst
during their brief pauses at Zulla; the fortunate ones dying
in scores upon the way, and the less happy ones incurring
disease of the lungs, which, after a few painful weeks,
brought them to the welcome grave. And all this to feed
Colonels Merewether and Phayre and the troops at Senafe.
Cui bono? No one can answer. No one to this day has
been able to offer the slightest explanation of the extraordinary
course adopted by these officers. If Colonel
Merewether had felt it his duty to go to Senafe in order to enter
into political relations with the chiefs in the neighbourhood,
and to arrange for the purchase of animals and food, a small
escort would have enabled him to do so. Not only was their
absence disastrous to the mule-train, but it was productive of
the greatest confusion at Zulla. There no one was left in
command. Astounding as it may appear to every military
man, here, at a port at which an amount of work scarcely,
if ever, equalled, had to be got through, with troops, animals,
and stores arriving daily in vast quantities, there was at the
time of my arrival absolutely no officer commanding,
—not
even a nominal head. Each head of department did his
best; but, like Hal o’ the Wynd, he fought for his own hand.
The confusion which resulted may be imagined but cannot be
described. Having thus briefly adverted to the causes which
led to the breakdown of the transport train, I continue my
journal.
Koomaylo, December 9th.
I mentioned in my letter of two days since, that the news
from the front was, that the King of Tigré, with an army of
7000 men, was inclined to make himself unpleasant. Our last
shave,
that of yesterday, goes into the opposite extreme,
and tells us that the Kings of Shoa and Lasta have both
sent to Colonel Merewether, and have offered to attack Theodore.
The hostilities and the alliances of the kings of these
tribes are, of course, matters of importance; but as these
native potentates seldom know their own minds for many
hours together, and change from a state of friendship to one
of hostility at a moment’s notice, or for a fancied affront, I
do not attach much importance to any of them, with the
exception of the King of Tigré, through whose dominions we
have to pass. If he allows us to pass to and fro without
interference, we can do very well without the alliance of Shoa
or of Lasta. We are strong enough to conquer Theodore, even
if he were backed by the three kings named; and now we
have got everything ready, the difference of expense between
a war of a few weeks’ duration and one of twice as many
months, will be comparatively trifling. As for the troops,
nothing would cause such disgust as to return without doing
anything, after all the preparations which have been made.
I do not think, however, that it would make much difference
in our movements now, even if the prisoners are given up.
Of course, had they been released a year ago, in consequence
of our entreaties or in exchange for our presents, we should
have been contented; but now we must demand something
more than a mere delivery of the prisoners. There is compensation
to be made for their long and painful sufferings,
and an attempt at any rate made to obtain some sort of
payment for our enormous expenses. I attach, therefore,
little importance to what is doing at Senafe, but consider
the state of the preparations at the landing-place at Annesley
Bay to be the central point of interest. For the last two
days much has been done towards getting things in order.
Pack-saddles in abundance have been landed. Sir Charles
Staveley has disembarked, and is hard at work; and in the
Land Transport Corps, in particular, great things have been
done. Captain Twentyman, who is in command, laid a number
of suggestions before the general, which he at once sanctioned.
Fodder was strewed near the watering-place, and as
the starving animals strayed down they were captured. One
hundred and fifty of them were handed over to the
Beloochee regiment, whose men cheerfully volunteered to look
after them. Tubs were obtained from the commissariat to
supplement the absurdly-insufficient troughs at the watering-place,
and which were only kept full of water at certain times
of the day. The 200 Madras dhoolie bearers, who have been
transferred to the transport, are doing good work, and there
is every hope that in another week things will be straight,
and the wretched stragglers who at present shock one with
their sufferings be again safely hobbled in line with other
animals.
The work which the officers of this corps get through is
prodigious. Captains Twentyman, Warren, and Hodges, and
Lieutenant Daniels, are beginning to forget what a bed is
like, for they are at work and about for more than twenty
hours out of the twenty-four. Indeed, I must say that I
never saw a greater devotion to duty than is shown by the
officers of the various departments. The quartermaster’s department,
the commissariat, and others, vie with each other
in the energy which they exhibit, and the only thing to be
wished is that there were a little more unanimity in their
efforts. Each works for himself. Whereas if they were
only branches of an intendance générale, the heads of the departments
might meet each other and their chief of an evening,
each state their wants and their wishes, concert together
as to the work to be performed next day, and then act with
a perfect knowledge of what was to be got through. However,
this is a Utopia which it is vain to sigh for. Probably
till the end of time we shall have separate departments and
divided responsibilities; and between the stools the British
soldier will continue to fall, and that very heavily, to the
ground.
On the afternoon of the 7th the first two companies of
the 33d regiment were to land; and this spectacle was
particularly interesting, as they were the first European regiment
to land upon the shores of Abyssinia. A large flat,
towed by a steam-barge, came alongside, and the men, with
their kit-bags and beds, embarked on board them. As they
did so, the regimental band struck up, the men and their
comrades on board ship cheering heartily. It was very
exciting, and made one’s blood dance in one’s veins; but to
me there is always something saddening in these spectacles.
This is the third Partant pour la Syrie
that I have seen.
I witnessed the Guards parade before Buckingham Palace.
I saw them cheer wildly as the band played and the Queen
waved her handkerchief to them; and six months afterwards
I saw them, a shattered relic of a regiment, in the Crimea.
Last year I described a scene in Piacenza, on the eve of the
march of the Italian army into the Quadrilateral. There,
too, were patriotic songs and hearty cheerings, there were
high hopes and brave hearts. A week after I saw them
hurled back again from the land they had invaded, defeated
by a foe they almost despised. Fortunately, in the present
case I have no similar catastrophe to anticipate. As far as
fighting goes, her Majesty’s 33d regiment need fear nothing
they will meet in Abyssinia, or, indeed, in any part of the
world. It is a regiment of veterans; it won no slight glory
in the Crimea, and a few months later it was hurried off
to aid in crushing the Indian mutiny. In India they have
been ever since, and are as fine and soldierlike a set of men
as could be found in the British army. We were to have
landed at two o’clock, but a few of the little things which always
are found to be done at the last moment delayed us half
an hour; and that delay of half an hour completely changed
the whole plans of the day. It had been intended that, after
landing, the men should remain quiet until five o’clock, by
which time the heat of the day would be over; that they
should then pack the baggage upon the camels, which were
to start at once with a guard, that the men should lie down
and sleep till midnight, and that they should then march, so
as to arrive at Koomaylo at five o’clock in the morning. All
these arrangements, admirable in their way, were defeated by
this little half-hour’s delay. There was not a breath of wind
when we left the ship, but in the quarter of an hour the passage
occupied the sea-breeze rushed down, and when we reached
the pier the waves were already breaking heavily. Time
after time the man-of-war’s boats came to us as we lay thirty
yards off, and took off a load each time; once, too, we drifted
so close to the end of the pier that the men were able to leap
off upon the rough stones. In this way all the troops got off
except the baggage-guard. But by this time the surf had
increased so much, that the boats could no longer get alongside;
accordingly the tug had to tow the barge a couple of
hundred yards out, and there to remain until the sea-breeze
dropped. In consequence it was nine in the evening before
the baggage got ashore, and nearly one in the morning before
the camels had their loads; and even then some of the men’s
beds had to be left behind. Considering the extreme lateness
of the hour, and the fact that the moon would soon be down,
I thought it best to get a sleep until daylight. Under the
shelter of a friendly tent I lay down upon the sand until five
o’clock, and then, after the slight toilet of a shake to get rid
of loose sand, I started.
The road from Annesley Bay to Koomaylo can hardly be
termed either interesting or strongly defined. It at first goes
straight across the sand, and, as the sand is trampled everywhere,
it is simply impossible to follow it. We were told
that the route lay due west, but that just where the jungle
began there was a sign-post. Compass in hand, we steered
west, and entered the low thorny scrub which constitutes the
jungle. No sign-post. We rode on for a mile, when, looking
back at the rising sun, I saw something like a sign-post in the
extreme distance. Riding back to it, it proved to be the desired
guide, and the road from here is by daylight distinct
enough. For the first six miles it runs across a dead-level
of sand, covered with a shrub with very small and very scanty
leaves, and very large and extremely-abundant thorns. Bustards,
grouse, deer, and other game are said to be very abundant
here, but we saw none of them. A sort of large hawk
was very numerous, but these were the only birds we saw.
At about six miles from the sea the ground rises abruptly
for about ten feet in height, and this rise ran north and south
as far as the eye could reach. It marked unquestionably
the level of the sea at some not very remote period. From
this point the plain continued flat, sandy, and bushy as before
for two miles; but after that a rocky crag rose, rather to our
right, and the sand became interspersed with stones and boulders.
Our path lay round behind the hill, and then we could
see, at about four miles’ distance, a white tent or two, at the
mouth of an opening in the mountain before us. These white
tents were the camp at Koomaylo. About three miles from
Koomaylo we came upon a very curious burial-place. It was
in a low flat, close to a gully, and covered a space of perhaps
fifty yards square. The graves were placed very close
together, and consisted of square piles of stones, not thrown
together, but built up, about three feet square and as much
high. They were crowned by a rough pyramid of stones, the
top one being generally white. Underneath these stone
piles was a sort of vault. From this point the ground rose
more steeply than it had yet done.
Koomaylo is situated at the mouth of the pass which
takes its name from it. The valley here is about half-a-mile
wide. It is rather over thirteen miles from the sea, and is
said to be 415 feet above the sea-level; but it does not appear
to be nearly so high. At any rate, its height does not
make it any cooler; for, hot as it is at Annesley Bay, it is
at least as hot here. The greatest nuisance I have at present
met with in Abyssinia are the flies, which are as numerous
and irritating as they are in Egypt. Fortunately they go to
sleep when the sun goes down; and as there are no mosquitoes
to take their place, one is able to sleep in tranquillity.
We found on arriving at Koomaylo that the troops had
not been in very long. They had got scattered in the night,
owing to some of the camels breaking down; had lost their
guides, lost each other, and lost the way. Finally, however, all
the troops came in in a body under their officers at about eight
o’clock. The animals were not quite so unanimous in their
movements; for a number of them took quite the wrong road,
and went to Hadoda, a place about six miles from here, to
the north, and twelve miles from Zulla. There are wells
there, so they got a drink, and came on in the course of the
day. A few, however, have not yet turned up, and one of
these missing animals bore a portion of my own luggage
and stores. The others will perhaps arrive; but I have a
moral conviction that that animal will never again make his
appearance. As the men were too tired upon their arrival
to pitch their tents, many of which indeed had not yet
arrived, they were allowed to take possession of a number
of tents which had been pitched for head-quarters. When we
arrived they were all shaken down; the men were asleep in
the tents, and the camels had gone down to water. The first
step was to go down to water our horses and mules, the next
to draw rations for ourselves, our followers, and beasts. The
watering-place is a quarter of a mile from this camp, which
is on rather rising ground. The wells are, of course, in the
bed of what in the rainy season must be a mighty torrent fifty
yards wide.
I have seen many singular scenes, but I do not know
that I ever saw a stranger one than these wells presented.
They are six in number, are twelve or fourteen feet across,
and about twelve feet deep. They are dug through the mass
of stones and boulders which forms the bed of the stream,
and three of the six have a sort of wooden platform, upon
which men stand to lower the buckets to the water by ropes.
The other wells have sloping sides, and upon them stand
sets of natives, who pass buckets from hand to hand, and
empty them into earth troughs, or rather mud basins, from
which the animals drink. The natives while so engaged keep
up the perpetual chant without which they seem to be unable
to do any work. The words of this chant vary infinitely, and
they consist almost always of two words of four or five syllables
in all; which are repeated by the next set of men, with
the variation of one of the syllables, and in a tone two notes
lower than that used by the first set. Round these wells are
congregated a vast crowd of animals—flocks of goats and small
sheep, hundreds in number, strings of draught-bullocks, mules,
ponies, horses, and camels, hundreds of natives, with their
scanty attire, their spears, their swords exactly resembling
reaping-hooks, and their heavy clubs. Here are their wives
and sisters, some of them in the ordinary draped calico, others
very picturesquely attired in leathern petticoats, and a body-dress
of a sort of sheet of leather, going over one shoulder and
under the other arm, covering the bust, and very prettily ornamented
with stars and other devices, formed of white shells.
Round their necks they wear necklaces of red seeds and shells.
Some of them are really very good-looking, with remarkably
intelligent faces. The scene round the wells is very exciting,
for the animals press forward most eagerly, and their attendants
have the greatest difficulty in preserving order, especially
among the mules and camels. The supply, however, is equal
to the demand, and by the end of the day the wells are nearly
deserted, except by the soldiers, who like to go down and
draw their water fresh from the wells. The upper wells,
where buckets with ropes only are used, are really very fair
water; those for the animals are not clear, but are still drinkable.
All have a taste somewhat resembling the water from
peat-bogs. Natives are employed digging more wells, which
can be done, for the quantity which is drawn appears to make
little or no difference in the level of the water in the present
wells. Some of the camels occasionally get quite furious; to-day
I saw one, whose saddle had slipped round under its belly,
begin to jump and plunge most wildly, with its head in the
air, and uttering the most uncouth cries. There was a general
stampede, especially among the mules, many of whom have,
I fancy, never seen a camel before. It was some minutes
before the animal could be caught and forced down upon its
knees by its driver, and by that time he had quite cleared the
ground in his neighbourhood. The camels are kept as much
as possible kneeling, and there were a hundred or two near
him at the time he commenced his evolutions. When one
camel rises, all in his neighbourhood always endeavour to do
the same; and the efforts of these beasts to rise, the shouts of
their drivers, and the stampede of the mules, made up a most
laughable scene. Near the wells is another large graveyard;
the tombs here are rather more ornate than those I have already
described, some of them being round, and almost all
having courses of white quartz stones. Upon the top of many
of these tombs are two or three flat stones, placed on end, and
somewhat resembling small head- and foot-stones. As there
is no inscription upon them it would be curious to find out the
object with which the natives erect them.
Having finished watering our horses, we proceeded to
the commissariat tent. Here an immense quantity of work
is got through, all the animals and men drawing their
rations daily; and I have heard no complaint of any sort,
except that some Parsees, while I was getting my rations,
came up and complained bitterly because there was no
mutton, and it was contrary to their religion to eat beef.
The commissariat officer regretted the circumstance, but
pointed out that at present no sheep had been landed, and
that the little things of the country are mere skin and bone,
and quite unfitted for the troops. The Parsees, who were, I
believe, clerks to one of the departments, went off highly
discontented. The moral of this evidently is that Parsees
should not go to war in a country where mutton is scarce.
As for the Hindoos, I cannot even guess how they will
preserve their caste intact. It is a pity that their priests
could not give them a dispensation to put aside all their
caste observances for the time they may be out of India.
As it is, I foresee we shall have very great difficulty with
them.
Koomaylo, December 12th.
When I wrote two days ago I hardly expected to have
dated another letter from Koomaylo. I had prepared to
start for Senafe, leaving my baggage behind me, and returning
in ten days or so. The great objection to this plan
was that neither at Zulla nor here are there any huts or
stores where things can be left. The only thing to be done,
therefore, was to leave them in the tent of some friend;
but as he, too, might get the route at any moment, it would
have been, to say the least of it, a very hazardous proceeding.
The night before last, however, I received the joyful
and long-expected news that the ship which had left
Bombay with my horses six days before I started myself
was at last in harbour. My course was now clear; I
should go down, get my horses, and then go up to Senafe,
carrying my whole baggage with me. Vessels and troops
are arriving every day, and the accumulations of arrears
of work are increasing in even more rapid proportion.
Major Baigrie, the quartermaster-general, is indefatigable,
but he cannot unload thirty large vessels at one little
jetty, at whose extremity there is only a depth of five feet
of water. Unless something is done, and that rapidly,
and upon an extensive scale, we shall break down altogether.
It is evident that a jetty, at which at most three of these
country boats can lie alongside to unload, is only sufficient
to afford accommodation for one large ship, and that it
would take several days to discharge her cargo of say one
thousand tons, using the greatest despatch possible. How,
then, can it be hoped that the vessels in the harbour,
whose number is increasing at the rate of two or three
a-day, are to be unloaded? In the Crimea great distress
was caused because the ships in Balaclava harbour could not
manage to discharge their stores. But Balaclava harbour
offered facilities for unloading which were enormous compared
to this place. There was a wharf a quarter of a mile
long, with deep water alongside, so that goods could be
rolled down planks or gangways to the shore from the
vessels. The harbour was land-locked, and the work of unloading
never interrupted. Compare that with the present
state of things. A boat-jetty running out into five-foot
water, and only approachable for half the day owing to the
surf, and, as I hear, for months not approachable at all. It
can be mathematically proved that the quantity of provision
and forage which can be landed from these boats,
always alongside for so many hours a-day, would not supply
the fifth of the wants of twenty-five thousand men and
as many animals. Everything depends upon what the state
of the interior of the country is. If we find sufficient
forage for the animals and food for the men—which the
most sanguine man does not anticipate—well and good.
If not, we must break down. It is simply out of the question
to land the stores with the present arrangements in
Annesley Bay, or with anything like them. The pier-accommodation
must be greatly increased, and must be made
practical in all weather, that is to say, practical all day in
ordinary weather. To do this the pier should be run out
another fifty yards, and should then have a cross-pier erected
at its extremity. The native boats could lie under the
lee of this and unload in all weathers, and there would
be sufficient depth of water for the smaller transports to
lie alongside on the outside in calm weather, and to unload
direct on to the pier. I know that this would be an expensive
business, that stone has to be brought from a distance,
&c. But it is a necessity, and therefore expense is
no object. I consider that the railway which is to be laid
between the landing-place and this point will be of immense
utility to the expedition; but I believe it to be a work of quite
inferior importance in comparison with this question of increased
pier-accommodation. There is no doubt that in
spite of the troops and animals arriving from Bombay before
things were ready for them here, things would have
gone on far better than they have done, had there been
any head to direct operations here. But the officers of
the various departments have been working night and day
without any head whatever to give unity and object to
their efforts. I understand that General Staveley was astonished
to find that before the arrival of General Collings,
two days previous to himself, there had been no head to
the expedition.
Sir Robert Napier was fully alive to the extreme importance
of this question of wharfage, for in his memorandum
of September 12th he recommended that planking,
tressles, piles, and materials to construct wharves should be
forwarded with the 1st Brigade. There cannot,
he proceeded,
be too many landing-places to facilitate debarkation,
and on such convenience will depend the boats being
quickly cleared, and the stores removed from them dry. It
would be advisable that a considerable number of empty
casks should be forwarded to be used as rafts, or to form
floating-wharves for use at low water, particularly should
the shores shelve gently. Spars to form floating shears
should also be forwarded.
Thus Sir Robert Napier, himself
an engineer, had long before foreseen the extreme importance
of providing the greatest possible amount of landing
accommodation; and yet three months after this memorandum
was written, and two months after the arrival of the pioneer
force at Zulla, an unfinished pier was all that had
been effected, and Colonel Wilkins, the officer to whom
this most important work had been specially intrusted, was
quietly staying up at Senafe with Colonels Merewether, Phayre,
and Field. A second pier was not completed until the end
of February, and consequently many vessels remained for
months in harbour before their cargoes could be unloaded,
at an expense and loss to the public service which can hardly
be over-estimated.
We had quite a small excitement here this afternoon. I
was writing quietly, and thinking what a hot day it was,
when I heard a number of the soldiers running and shouting.
I rushed to the door of my tent and saw a troop of very large
monkeys trotting along, pursued by the men, who were
throwing stones at them. Visions of monkey-skins flashed
across my mind, and in a moment, snatching up revolvers
and sun-helmets, three or four of us joined the chase. We
knew from the first that it was perfectly hopeless, for the
animals were safe in the hills, which extended for miles.
However, the men scattered over the hills, shouting and
laughing, and so we went on also, and for a couple of hours
climbed steadily on, scratching ourselves terribly with the
thorn-bushes which grow everywhere—and to which an
English quickset-hedge is as nothing—and losing many
pounds in weight from the effect of our exertions. Hot as
it was, I think that the climb did us all good. Indeed, the
state of the health of everyone out here is most excellent, and
the terrible fevers and all the nameless horrors with which
the army was threatened in its march across the low ground,
turn out to be the effect of the imagination only of the well-intentioned
but mischievous busybodies who have for the last
six months filled the press with their most dismal predictions.
I have heard many a hearty laugh since I have been here
at all the evils we were threatened would assail us in the
thirteen miles between Annesley Bay and this place. We
were to die of fever, malaria, sunstroke, tetse-fly, Guinea-worm,
tapeworm, and many other maladies. It is now
nearly three months since the first man landed, and upon
this very plain there are at present thousands of men, including
the Beloochee regiment and other natives, hundreds,
taking Europeans only, of officers, staff and departmental, with
the conductors, inspectors, and men of the transport, commissariat,
and other departments. From the day of the first
landing to the present time there has not been one death, or
even an illness of any consequence, among all these men
upon this plain of death. As for the two companies of the
33d, their surgeon tells me that the general state of their
health is better than in India, for that there has not been
a single case of fever or indisposition of any kind in the five
days since they landed, whereas in India there were always a
proportion of men in hospital with slight attacks of fever.
All this is most gratifying, and I believe that all the other
dangers and difficulties will, when confronted, prove to have
been equally exaggerated. The difficulties of the pass to the
first plateau, 7000 feet above the sea, have already proved to
be insignificant. There are only four miles of at all difficult
ground, and this has already been greatly obviated by the
efforts of the Bombay Sappers. The December rains have
not yet begun, but yesterday and to-day we have heavy
clouds hanging over the tops of the mountains. The rain
would be a very great boon, and would quite alter the whole
aspect of the country. The whole country, indeed, when not
trampled upon, is covered with dry, burnt-up herbage, presenting
exactly the colour of the sand, but which only needs
a few hours’ rain to convert it into a green plain of grass, sufficient
for the forage of all the baggage-animals in the camp.
While I have been writing this the Beloochees and a company
of Bombay Sappers and Miners have marched into camp,
with their baggage and camels. The Beloochees are a splendid
regiment—tall, active, serviceable-looking men as ever
I saw. Their dress is a dark-green tunic, with scarlet facings
and frogs, trousers of a lighter green, a scarlet cap, with a
large black turban around it; altogether a very picturesque
dress. The Sappers and Miners are in British uniform.
Both these corps go on early to-morrow morning to Upper
Sooro. I have not decided yet whether I shall accompany
them, or go on by myself this evening.
A letter has just come down from Colonel Merewether
saying that all is going on well at Senafe. The King of
Tigré has sent in his adhesion, and numbers of petty chiefs
came in riding on mules, and followed by half-a-dozen ragged
followers on foot, to make their salaam.
I do not know
that these petty chiefs, who are subjects of the King of Tigré,
are of much importance one way or another, but their friendship
would be useful if they would bring in a few hundred
head of bullocks and a few flocks of sheep. It is, I understand,
very cold up there, and the troops will have need of
all their warm clothing.
Upper Sooro, December 13th.
I must begin my letter by retracting an opinion I expressed
in my last, namely, that the defile would probably
turn out a complete bugbear, as the fevers, guinea-worm, and
tetse flies have done. My acquaintance with most of the
passes of the Alps and Tyrol is of an extensive kind, but I
confess that it in no way prepared me for the passage of an
Abyssinian defile. I can now quite understand travellers
warning us that many of these places were impracticable for
a single horseman, much less for an army with its baggage-animals.
Had not Colonel Merewether stated in his report
that the first time he explored the pass he met laden bullocks
coming down it, I should not have conceived it possible that
any beast of burden could have scrambled over the terrible
obstacles. Even now, when the Bombay Sappers have been
at work for three weeks upon it, it is the roughest piece of
road I ever saw, and only practicable for a single animal at
once. It is in all twelve miles; at least, so it is said by the
engineers, and we took, working hard, seven hours to do it;
and I found that this was a very fair average time. A single
horseman will, of course, do it in a very much shorter time,
because there are miles together where a horse might gallop
without danger. I remained at Koomaylo until the afternoon,
as it was too hot to start till the sun was low. Nothing
happened during the day, except the arrival of the
Beloochees and Bombay Engineers. The soldiers had two or
three more chases after the monkeys, of which there are extra
ordinary numbers. I need hardly say that they did not catch
any of them: a dog, however, belonging to one of the soldiers
seized one for a moment, but was attacked with such fury by
his companions that it had to leave its hold and beat a precipitate
retreat. I have just been watching a flock or herd—I
do not know which is the correct term—of these animals,
two or three hundred in number, who have passed along the
rocks behind my tent, at perhaps thirty yards’ distance.
They have not the slightest fear of man, and even all the
noise and bustle of a camp seem to amuse rather than alarm
them. They are of all sizes, from the full-grown, which are
as large as a large dog, down to tiny things which keep close
to their mothers, and cling round their necks at the least
alarm. The old ones make no noise, but step deliberately
from rock to rock, sitting down frequently to inspect the
camp, and indulge in the pleasure of a slight scratch. These
full-sized fellows have extremely long hair over the head and
upper part of the body, but are bare, disagreeably so, towards
the caudal extremity. The small ones scamper along, chattering
and screaming; they have no mane or long hair on
the head. The old monkeys, when they do make a sound,
bark just like a large dog. In the afternoon an enormous
number of locusts came down the pass, and afforded amusement
and diet to flocks of birds, who were, I observed, rather
epicures in their way, for on picking up many of the dead
bodies of the locusts, I found that in every case it was only
the head and upper part of the thorax which had been eaten.
I shall accept this as a hint; and in case of the starvation
days with which this expedition is threatened—in addition to
innumerable other evils—really coming on, I shall, when we
are driven to feed on locusts, eat only the parts which the
birds have pointed out to me as the tit-bits. I am happy to
say that there is no probability of our being driven to that
resource at present; for on our way here yesterday I passed
considerable quantities of native cattle, and any quantity is
procurable here, and as for goats they are innumerable. We
bought one this morning for our servants for the sum of a
rupee. The commissariat have made up their minds that all
servants and followers must be Hindoos, and therefore abstainers
from meat, and so issue no meat whatever in their
rations—nothing, indeed, except rice, grain, a little flour,
and a little ghee. Now, the fact is that the followers are
generally not Hindoos. Many of the body-servants are
Portuguese, Goa men; and the horse-keepers are frequently
Mussulmans, or come from the north-west provinces, where
they are not particular. Even the mule-drivers are Arabs,
Egyptians, and Patans, all of whom eat flesh. It thus happens
that the whole of our five servants are meat-eaters, and
it is fortunate that we are able to buy meat from the natives
for them, especially as they have really hard work to do; and
in the cold climate we shall enter in another day or two meat
is doubly necessary.
We had intended to start at three o’clock, but it was four
before our baggage was fairly disposed upon the backs of the
four baggage-animals—two strong mules and two ponies—and
we were in the saddles of our riding-horses. Our route,
after leaving the wells, ran, with of course various turnings
and windings, in a south-westerly direction. The way lay
along the bottom of the valley, a road being marked out by
the loose stones being removed to a certain extent, and laid
along both sides of the track. The valley for the first seven
or eight miles was very regular, of a width of from 200 to
300 yards. Its bottom, though really rising gradually, appeared
to the eye a perfect flat of sand, scattered with boulders
and stones, and covered with the thorny jungle I have
spoken of in a previous letter. This scrub had been cleared
away along the line of road, or there would have been very
little flesh, to say nothing of clothes, left upon our bones by
the time we came to our journey’s end. Backward and forward,
across the sandy plain, as the spurs of the hills turned
its course, wound the bed of the torrent—I should think that
we crossed it fifty times. It is probable that on occasions of
great floods the whole valley is under water. To our left the
hills, though rocky and steep, sloped somewhat gradually, and
were everywhere sprinkled with bushes. On the right the
mountain was much more lofty, and rose in many places
very precipitously. Sometimes the valley widened somewhat,
at other times the mountains closed in, and we seemed
to have arrived at the end of our journey, until on rounding
some projecting spur the valley would appear stretching away
at its accustomed width. Altogether, the scenery reminded
me very much of the Tyrol, except that the hills at our side
were not equal in height to those which generally border the
valleys there.
At half-past six it had become so dark that we could no
longer follow the track, and the animals were continually
stumbling over the loose stones, and we were obliged to halt
for half-an-hour, by which time the moon had risen over the
plain; and although it was some time longer before she was
high enough to look down over the hill-tops into our valley,
yet there was quite light enough for us to pursue our way.
In another three-quarters of an hour we came upon a sight
which has not greeted my eyes since I left England, excepting,
of course, in my journey through France—it was running
water. We all knelt down and had a drink, but,
curiously enough, although our animals had been travelling
for nearly four hours enveloped in a cloud of light dust, they
one and all refused to drink; indeed, I question if they had
ever seen running water before, and had an idea it was something
uncanny. This place we knew was Lower Sooro, not
that there was any village—indeed, I begin to question the
existence of villages in this part of the world, for I have not
yet seen a single native permanent hut, only bowers constructed
of the boughs of trees and bushes. But in Abyssinia
it is not villages which bear names; it is wells. Zulla, and
Koomaylo, the Upper and Lower Sooro, are not villages, but
wells. Natives come and go, and build their bowers, but they
do not live there. I fancy that when there is a native name,
and no well, it is a graveyard which gives the name. We
passed two or three of these between Koomaylo and Sooro, all
similar to those I have already described. From Lower to
Upper Sooro is a distance of four miles. It is in this portion
of the road that the real difficulties of the pass are situated,
and I never passed through a succession of such narrow and
precipitous gorges as it contains. The sides of these gorges
are in many places perfectly perpendicular, and the scenery,
although not very lofty, is yet wild and grand in the extreme,
and seen, as we saw it, with the bright light and deep shadows
thrown by the full moon, it was one of the most impressive
pieces of scenery I ever saw. The difficulty of the
pass consists not in its steepness, for the rise is little over
three hundred feet in a mile, but in the mass of huge boulders
which strew its bottom. Throughout its length, indeed, the
path winds its way in and out and over a chaos of immense
stones, which look as if they had but just fallen from the
almost overhanging sides of the ravine. Some of these
masses are as large as a good-sized house, with barely room
between them for a mule to pass with his burden. In many
places, indeed, there was not room at all until the Bombay
Sappers, who are encamped about half-way up the pass, set
to work to make it practicable by blasting away projecting
edges, and in some slight way smoothing the path among the
smaller rocks. In some places great dams have been formed
right across the ravine, owing to two or three monster boulders
having blocked the course of the stream, and from the
accumulated rocks which the winter torrents have swept
down upon them. Upon these great obstacles nothing less
than an army of sappers could make any impression, and
here the engineers have contented themselves by building a
road up to the top of the dam and down again the other side.
We were three hours making this four-mile passage, and the
labour, the shouting, and the difficulties of the way, must be
imagined. Of course we had dismounted, and had given our
horses to their grooms to lead. Constantly the baggage was
shifting, and required a pause and a readjustment. Now our
tin pails would bang with a clash against a rock one side;
now our case of brandy—taken for purely medicinal purposes—would
bump against a projection on the other. Now one
of the ponies would stumble, and the other nearly come upon
him; now one of the mules, in quickening his pace to charge
a steep ascent, would nearly pull the one which was following,
and attached to him, off his feet; then there would be a fresh
alarm that the ponies’ baggage was coming off. All this was
repeated over and over again. There were shouts in English,
Hindostanee, Arabic, and in other and unknown tongues.
Altogether it was the most fatiguing four miles I have ever
passed, and we were all regularly done when we got to the
top. I should say that the water had all this time tossed and
fretted between the rocks, sometimes hidden beneath them for
a hundred yards, then crossing and recrossing our path, or
running directly under our feet, until we were within a few
hundred yards of Upper Sooro, when the ravine widening out,
and the bottom being sandy, the stream no longer runs above
the surface. Altogether it was a ride to be long remembered,
through that lonely valley by moonlight in an utterly unknown
and somewhat hostile country, as several attempts at robbery
have been made by the natives lately upon small parties; and
although in no case have they attacked a European, yet
everyone rides with his loaded revolver in his holster. A
deep silence seemed to hang over everything, broken only by
our own voices, except by the occasional thrill of a cicada
among the bushes, the call of a night-bird, or by the whining
of a jackal, or the hoarse bark of a monkey on the hills
above.
It was just eleven o’clock when we arrived at Upper Sooro.
An officer at once came to the door of his tent, and with that
hospitality which is universal, asked us to come in and sit
while our tent was being pitched. We accepted, and he
opened for us a bottle of beer, cool, and in excellent condition.
Imagine our feelings. Brandy-and-water would have
been true hospitality, but beer, where beer is so scarce and so
precious as it is here, was a deed which deserves to be recorded
in letters of gold. I forbear to name our benefactor.
The Samaritan’s name has not descended to us; the widow
who bestowed the mite is nameless. Let it be so in the
present case. But I shall never cease to think of that bottle of
beer with gratitude.
My tent was now pitched; my servant procured some hot
water and made some tea; and having taken that and some
biscuit, and having seen that the horses were fed, I slightly
undressed, lay down upon my water-proof sheet, and lighted
a final cigar, when to my horror I observed many creeping
things advancing over the sheet towards me. Upon
examination they turned out to be of two species—the one a
large red ant, the other a sort of tick, which I found on inquiring
in the morning are camel-ticks. They are a lead
colour, and about the size of sheep-ticks, but they do not run
so fast. This was, indeed, a calamity, but there was nothing
to be done. I was far too tired to get up and have my tent
pitched in another place; besides, another place might have
been just as bad. I therefore wrapped myself as tightly as I
could in my rug, in hopes that they would not find their way
in, and so went to sleep. In the morning I rejoiced greatly to
find that I had not been bitten; for they bite horses and men,
raising a bump as big as a man’s fist upon the former, and
causing great pain and swelling to the latter.
I describe thus minutely the events of every day, because
the life of most officers and men greatly resembles my own,
and by relating my own experience I give a far more accurate
idea of the sort of life we are leading in Abyssinia than I could
do by any general statements.
Upper Sooro is a large commissariat dépôt, exceedingly
well managed by Conductor Crow. It is a new basin of five
hundred yards long by two hundred across, a widening out
of the pass. It is selected for that reason, as it is the only
place along the line near water where a regiment could
encamp. Owing to its elevation above the sea the temperature
is very pleasant, except for two or three hours in the middle
of the day. Another agreeable change is that the thorny
bushes have disappeared, and a tree without prickles, and
which attains a considerable size, has taken their place.
At seven o’clock this morning the Beloochees began to
arrive, having started at midnight. The advanced guard
were therefore exactly the same time doing the distance that
we were. Their baggage, however, has been dropping in all
day, for it was loaded on camels, and most of these animals
stuck fast in the narrow passages of the pass, and had to be
unloaded to enable them to get through; and this happened
again and again. The pass, in fact, is not, as yet, practicable
for camels; mules can manage it, but it is a very close fit for
them, and it will be some time yet before camels can pass with
their burdens. I suppose after to-day’s experience camels will
not be again employed this side of Koomaylo until the pass
has been widened. Some of the poor animals were stuck fast
for a couple of hours before they could be extricated. There
are now a hundred of them lying down within fifty yards of
my tent. I consider the camel to be the most ridiculously-overpraised
animal under the sun. I do not deny that he
has his virtues. He is moderately strong—not very strong for
his size, for he will not carry so much as a couple of good
mules; still he is fairly strong, and he can go a long time
without water—a very useful quality in the desert, or on the
sea-shore of Abyssinia. But patient! Heaven save the mark!
He is without exception the most cantankerous animal under
the sun. When he is wanted to stand up, he lies down; when
he is wanted to lie down, he will not do it on any consideration;
and once down he jumps up again the moment his driver’s
back is turned. He grumbles, and growls, and roars at any
order he receives, whether to stand up or lie down; whether
to be loaded or to have his packs taken off. When he is once
loaded and in motion he goes on quietly enough; but so does
a horse, or a donkey, or any other animal. After having
made himself as disagreeable as possible, there is small praise
to him that he goes on when he cannot help it. I consider the
mule, which people have most wrongfully named obstinate, to
be a superior animal in every respect—except that he wants
his drink—to the much-bepraised camel.
A messenger passed through here yesterday from Abyssinia.
He was bringing letters from Mr. Rassam to Colonel
Merewether. He reports that Theodore is continuing his
cruelties, and killing his soldiers in numbers. Under these
circumstances one can hardly feel surprised at the news that,
in spite of his efforts, he is unable to increase his army beyond
seven or eight thousand men. He is still at Debra Tabor.
Camp, Senafe, December 16th.
I arrived here only half-an-hour since, and find that the
post is on the point of starting. I therefore have only time to
write a few lines to supplement my last letter, which was sent
from Sooro. All description of the pass between that resting-place
and Senafe I must postpone to my next letter, and only
write to say that there is no particular news here. The messenger
from Mr. Rassam arrived in the camp yesterday. He
states that the King of Shoa’s men are between Theodore and
Magdala, and that there is every hope that they will take the
latter place, and liberate the prisoners. The reports about the
King of Tigré are, to a certain extent, founded on fact. He
has professed the greatest friendship, but there are sinister
reports that he really means mischief, and for two or three
days the pickets have been doubled. It is not thought that
there is any foundation for the report of his intention to attack
us. The situation of this camp is very pleasant—upon a lofty
table-land, seven thousand feet above the sea, and with a delightfully
bracing wind blowing over it, and reminding one of
Brighton Downs in the month of May. At night I am told
that the thermometer goes down below freezing-point. The
camp is situated in a slight hollow or valley in the plain;
through its centre flows a stream, which when the camp was
first formed was knee-deep, but has greatly fallen off since,
so much so that reservoirs are being formed and wells sunk
in case the supply should cease. Short as the time is before
the post goes, I might have sent you more intelligence were
it not that Colonels Merewether and Phayre are both absent
upon some expedition in the surrounding country, and I am
therefore unable to draw any news from any official source.
The health of everyone up here is excellent, and the horses
are suffering less from the disease which has almost decimated
them in the lower ground. There are plenty of cattle brought
in for sale, but unfortunately the authorities have no money
to buy them with.
Senafe, December 19th.
I wrote a few lines, upon my arrival here two days
ago; but as the post was upon the point of starting, I could
not do more than state that the rumours which had reached
us down below respecting the King of Tigré were untrue,
and that that monarch was at present pursuing a course
of masterly inactivity. I will now, therefore, resume my
letter at the point where my last regular communication
ended—namely, at the station of Sooro, in the pass leading
to this place. I do not apologise for making my description
of this pass very detailed, for at present the whole interest of
the expedition centres in the passage of the troops and baggage
from Zulla to this point, and I feel sure that any particulars
which may enable the public to picture to themselves
the country through which our soldiers are marching will be
read with keen interest. From Sooro to Rayray Guddy, the
next regular station, is, according to the official report, twenty-eight
miles; but I am convinced, and in this opinion I am
borne out by every officer I have spoken to, that thirty-three
would be much nearer the fact. Indeed, in every march
up here the official distances are a good deal under the truth.
But, indeed, the officers of the exploring force appear to have
seen everything through rose-coloured spectacles. At Zulla
they reported plenty of water, and they found, a short way
further, an abundance of forage, which no one else has been
able to discover before or since. It was on the strength of
these reports of forage and water that the baggage-animals
were hurried forward. I am not blaming the officers who
made the reports. They simply acted as it is the nature of
explorers to act. Every father thinks his own child a prodigy.
Every discoverer believes that the country, or river,
or lake which he has been the first to report on, is a country,
river, or lake such as no man ever saw before. Over and over
again this has happened, and disastrous consequences have ere
now arisen from the persistent use by explorers of these rose-coloured
spectacles. It is not more than four or five years—to
give one example out of a thousand—since Dr. Livingstone
reported that he had discovered a magnificent navigable
river in Eastern Africa, with rice, cotton, and corn abounding
upon its banks, and a climate beyond reproach. In consequence
of this report the Universities Mission
was organised,
and a band of missionaries, headed by their bishop,
Mackenzie, started. After months of struggle they arrived
at the place of disembarkation, having already discovered that
their noble stream was, at a good average time of year, about
three feet deep. There they set up their mission; there, one
by one, these noble fellows died of want and of fever, victims
of an explorer’s rose-coloured spectacles. After that we must
not grudge the few hundred mules that have fallen a sacrifice
to the want of springs and forage which could be seen only
through the glasses of the chiefs of the exploring party.
From Sooro to Rayray Guddy is too far a march to be
made in one day along such a road as there is at present, and
accordingly it is generally broken at a spot called Guinea-fowl
Plain, where there is a well yielding a small supply of
water, the colour of pea-soup. We had had quite sufficient
of night-marching previously, and, having passed one day at
Sooro, we started at ten o’clock the following morning. We
had intended to have started an hour earlier; but making a
start here is a very different thing from sending for a cab at
an appointed time to catch a train. In the first place there
are the trunks, which have been opened the night before, to
close; there is the tent to strike and pack up. Then at the
last moment you discover that your servants have not washed up
the breakfast-things, and that your mule-wallah has not yet
taken his animals to water. At last, when all is ready, comes
the important operation of loading the four baggage-animals.
Each load has to be adjusted with the nicest precision, or the
very first piece of rough ground you arrive at, round goes the
saddle, and your belongings come to the ground with a crash.
With our two mules we have the Otago saddle,
which is
excellent. Indeed, in the opinion of almost everyone here,
it is by far the best of the rival saddles. Upon these saddles
we pack our own baggage, and once fairly adjusted this is
pretty safe for the day. Not so the other animals, for which
we have common mule-saddles. Upon these is piled a multifarious
collection of bundles. Our servants’ five kits, our
animals’ rugs and ropes, our tents, two sacks containing
cooking-utensils and numerous etceteras, and a water-skin
for use upon the road. The actual weight that these animals
have to carry is not so great as that borne by the others; but
the trouble of adjusting and fastening on is at least ten times
as great. The loads have frequently to be taken off three or
four times, and then when we think all is right, and get fairly
into motion, we have not gone twenty yards before there is a
gradual descending motion observed on one side of an animal,
and a corresponding rise of the opposite burden, and we are
obliged to stop and readjust everything, or in another minute
or two the whole would have toppled over. These things
ruffle the temper somewhat, and our equanimity is not improved
by the intense stupidity which our native servants
always manifest upon these occasions. They seem to have
no eye. They heap bundles on the side which was before
palpably the heaviest; they twist cords where cords can be
of no earthly use: altogether they are horribly aggravating.
However, by this time I am getting accustomed to these
things, and take matters into my own hands, and insist on
things being done exactly as I direct them. At ten o’clock,
then, we were fairly off, and I do not know that I ever rode
through a more monotonous valley than that between Sooro
and Guinea-fowl Plain. It was the counterpart of that I
described in my last letter as extending between Koomaylo
and Lower Sooro. A dead flat of two or three hundred
yards across, with the torrent’s bed winding across it, and
spur after spur of mountain turning it every quarter of a
mile. Some of the mountain views which we saw up the
ravines were certainly very fine, but it became monotonous
in the extreme after six hours’ march at the rate of little over
two miles an hour. The vegetation, however, had changed
since the preceding day. The thorny bush no longer covered
everything, but a variety of shrubs now bordered the path,
and the diversity of their foliage was a relief to the eye. Immense
quantities of locusts were everywhere met with, making
the ground yellow where they lay, and rising with a
rustling noise, which was very discomposing to the horses at
our approach. They did not eat all the shrubs, but the
species upon which they fed were absolutely covered with
them, and most of their favourite plants were stripped completely
bare. Monkeys, or rather baboons, still abounded:
we saw numerous large troops of them, which must have been
over a hundred strong. It was about five o’clock when we
reached Guinea-fowl Plain, which may have guinea-fowls,
although we saw none; but which is most certainly not a
plain, for at the place where the well is the valley is narrower
than it had been for miles previously. Here we found some
really large trees, and under them we pitched our tent. It
was not long before our servants had fires lighted and dinner
in a forward state. There were two or three other parties
who had arrived before us, and, as it got dusk, all lighted
fires; and, as each party, with their cooking and grooms’
fires, had at least three bonfires going, it made quite a
picturesque scene. The night was raw and cold, and we had a few
drops of rain. It was fortunate that we had brought water
with us for cooking purposes, for the water in the well was
perfectly undrinkable.
The next morning we were again off early for our longest
journey, that on to Rayray Guddy, where food would be procurable
for horse and man, neither one nor the other being
obtainable at Guinea-fowl Plain, where there is no commissariat
station. We had carried our own food, and a small
portion of grain for the horses; but they would have fared
very badly had we not met some natives in the pass with a
bundle of hay, and done a little barter with them for rice.
The valley for the first twelve or fourteen miles from Guinea-fowl
Plain greatly resembled in its general features that we
had passed the day previously, but the vegetation became
more varied and interesting every mile. We now had great
trees of ivy, we had the evergreen oak, and occasionally
gigantic tulip-trees. We had great numbers of a tree, or
rather large shrub, of the name of which I am ignorant; its
leaves more resembled the sprays of the asparagus when it
has run far to seed than any other foliage I know, but the
growth of the shrub was more like a yew. Upon its
branches were vast quantities of a parasite resembling the
mistletoe, whose dark-green leaves afforded a fine contrast to
the rather bluish tint of the tree. Climbing everywhere over
the trees, and sometimes almost hiding them, were creepers
of various kinds; on the ground grew vast quantities of
the aloe. There were, too, numerous cacti of various kinds,
some thick and bulky, others no thicker than a lady’s little
finger, and growing like a creeper over the trees. But,
strangest of all, upon the hill-sides grew an immense plant,
or rather tree, of the cactus tribe, which I had never seen
before. It started by a straight stem fifteen or twenty feet
high, and thicker than a man’s body. This branched out
into a great number of arms, which all grew upwards, and to
just the same height, giving it a strange and formal appearance,
exactly resembling a gigantic cauliflower. I believe its
name is Euphorbia candalabriensis, but do not at all vouch for
this. Some of the mountain slopes were quite covered with
this strange tree, but as a general thing it grew singly or in
pairs. The tulip-trees were superb; they grew generally in
rocky places, and with their huge twisted trunks, and glossy
green leaves, and limbs more than a hundred feet long, they
were studies for a painter.
At about three miles from Rayray Guddy the valley narrowed
to a ravine, and we came upon running water. The
pass from here to the station is steep and difficult, but nothing
to that at Sooro. Having drawn our rations, and received
the unwelcome intelligence that there was no hay, and only
the scantiest possible amount of grain for our animals, we
established our camp and went up to look at the land transport
division, about a quarter of a mile higher up the valley.
There were four or five hundred mules and ponies here, in
good order, but hardly good condition; in fact, the work has
been hard and forage scant. How hard the work has been,
our journey of the two preceding days had testified. All
along the line of march we had come across the carcasses of
dead animals, from which great vultures rose lazily at our
approach. As we approached Rayray Guddy the remains of
the victims occurred much more frequently, and the air was
everywhere impregnated with the fœtid odour. This was
only to be expected, as the poor animals had been obliged to
endeavour to accomplish the march of thirty miles from Sooro
without food, and in most cases without water. No time
should be lost in forming a small commissariat dépôt at
Guinea-fowl Plain, where a ration of hay and grain could be
served out to the animals as they pass through. The work
these baggage-animals have to go through is extremely severe,
and their half-starved appearance testifies that they have
not sufficient food served out to them, and to expect them to
do two days’ work on their one day’s scanty rations is a little
too much even from mules. We found our friends who had
started before us from Guinea-fowl Plain encamped up there
with Captain Mortimer of the transport train. It was proposed
that we should throw in our mess with them. We
accordingly returned to our own encampment, took our meat
and rum, our plates and knives and forks, and marched back
again. In an hour dinner was ready, and in the mean time
I was glad of an opportunity of inquiring how this advanced
division of the transport train had got on. I found that they
had, like the one down at Zulla, had the greatest trouble with
their drivers. The officer complained bitterly of the class of
men who had been sent out—Greeks, Italians, Frenchmen,
Spaniards, the mere sweepings of Alexandria, Cairo, Beyrout,
and Smyrna. The Hindoo drivers, he said, upon the
whole, worked steadily, and were more reliable than the
others, but were greatly wanting in physical strength. The
Persians, on the contrary, were very strong and powerful
men, and could load three mules while a Hindoo could load
one; but they had at first given very great trouble, had
mutinied and threatened to desert in a body, but, upon the
application of the lash to two or three of the ringleaders,
things had gone on more smoothly. The Arab drivers had
almost all deserted. Even up here the mules still suffer from
the disease which prevailed down upon the plain, and which
carried off a hundred horses of the 3d Native Cavalry. It is
very sudden in its action, and is in nearly every case fatal.
The animals seem seized with some internal pain, arch their
backs, and become rigid. In a short time the tongue grows
black, a discharge takes place from the nostrils, and in a few
hours, sometimes not more than one, from the time he is attacked,
the animal is dead. At present, as with our cattle-disease,
all remedies are ineffectual. Animals in good condition
are more liable to be attacked than are the poorer ones.
After dinner we returned to our tent, where, however, we
did not pass a remarkably-pleasant night. In the first place,
it was bitterly cold—the temperature of Rayray Guddy is
indeed colder than it is here; and in the second, a mule had
broken loose from its head-ropes, and came down to our
encampment. Five or six times it nearly upset our tent by
tumbling over the tent-ropes, in addition to which it made
our horses so savage by going up among them, that we were
afraid of their breaking loose. Four or five times, therefore,
did we have to get up and go out in the cold to drive the
beast away with stones. The grooms were sleeping at their
horses’ heads, but were so wrapped up in their rugs that
they heard nothing of it. The next morning it was so cold
that we were really glad to be up and moving, and were on
our way at a little before eight. The first six miles of the
road is narrow and winding, and is as lovely a road as I ever
passed. With the exception only of the narrow pathway, the
gorge was one mass of foliage. In addition to all the plants
I have mentioned as occurring below, we had now the wild
fig, the laburnum, various sorts of acacia, and many others,
One plant in particular, I believe a species of acacia, was in
seed; the seed-pods were a reddish-brown, but were very
thin and transparent, and when the sun shone upon them
were of the colour of the clearest carmine. As these shrubs
were in great abundance, and completely covered with seed-pods,
their appearance was very brilliant. Among all these
plants fluttered numerous humming-birds of the most lovely
colours. Other birds of larger size and gorgeous plumage
perched among the trees at a short distance from the path.
Brilliant butterflies flitted here and there among the
flowers.
At last we came to an end of this charming ride, and
prepared for a work of a very different nature. We turned
from the ravine which we had now followed for sixty miles,
and prepared boldly to ascend the hill-side. As soon as
we left the ravine all the semi-tropical vegetation was at an
end; we were climbing a steep hill covered with boulders,
between which stunted pines thrust their gnarled branches
and dark foliage. We had gone at one leap from a tropical
ravine to a highland mountain-side. The ascent was, I
should say, at the least a thousand feet, and a worse thousand-feet
climb I never had before and never wish to have
again. It is a mere track which zigzags up among the rocks
and trees, and which was made by the 10th Native Infantry
and the Sappers, as the pioneer force rested below and had
breakfast. The men effected marvels considering that it
was the work of two hours only; but it is at best a mere
track. Sometimes the mules mount a place as steep as a
flight of stairs; then they have to step over a rock three
feet high. In fact, it is one long struggle up to the top,
and in no place wide enough for two mules to pass. One
mule falling puts a stop to a whole train, and this was exemplified
in our case, for we were following a long line of
mules when they suddenly came to a stop. For half-an-hour
we waited patiently, and then, climbing up the rocks
and through the trees at the side of the stationary mules,
we finally came to the cause of detention—one of the mules
had fallen. The drivers had taken no efforts to remove his
pack or his saddle, but were sitting by his side quietly
smoking their pipes. After a little strong language we took
off his saddle, got things right, and the train proceeded
again. This is the great want of the transport corps—a
strong body of inspectors, as they are called, volunteers from
European regiments. There ought to be one of these to
every ten or fifteen drivers, who, as in the present case,
if not looked after by a European, will shirk work in every
possible way. But this is a subject upon which I shall have
much more to say at a future time. This road or path is
really not practicable for the passage of mules, for, although
singly they can go up well enough, if one party going up
were to meet another going down, it is probable that, if no
European came up to make one party or other retrace their
steps, they would remain there until the last animal died
of starvation. Three companies of the Beloochee regiment
arrived yesterday at the bottom of the hill, and have set to
work to widen and improve it; and as a party of sappers
and miners have begun to work downwards from the top,
the road will soon be made passable. For this hill-side is
not like the pass of Sooro, which would require an incredible
amount of labour to render it a decent road. There
are no natural obstacles here beyond trees to be cut down
and stones to be rolled away; so that by the time the main
body of the army arrives I have no doubt that they will
find a fair road up to the plateau.
Senafe, December 20th.
I closed my letter in great haste yesterday afternoon,
for the authorities suddenly arrived at the conclusion that
it was the last day for the English mail. I was obliged to
break off abruptly in my description of the road, being at
the point where we had just arrived upon the plateau. Looking
backwards, we could see peak after peak extending behind
us, which when we had been winding among their
bases had looked so high above us, but which now were
little above the level of the spot where we were standing. A
few of the peaks around us might have been a thousand or
fifteen hundred feet higher than the plateau, and we
were standing nearly on the summit of that high range of
hills we had seen from the sea. We are now seven thousand
four hundred feet above Zulla, and by my description
of the pass it will be seen that it is no child’s-play to attain
this height. It is not that the ascent is so steep; on the
contrary, taking the distance at seventy miles, the rise is
only one in a hundred, an easy gradient for a railway; but
more than half the rise takes place in three short steep
ascents, namely, the Sooro pass, a rise of one thousand five
hundred feet in four miles; the Rayray Guddy pass, a rise
of one thousand feet in three miles; and the last climb on
to the plateau, a rise of one thousand five hundred feet in
two miles. Thus four thousand feet, or more than half the
rise, takes place in nine miles, and over the remaining distance
the rise is only one foot in every two hundred. The
difficulties of the journey are the general roughness of the
road, the long distances the animals have to go without
water, and the ascent of the Sooro pass, for there is no doubt
that the final rise to the plateau will soon be made a good
road by the exertions of the Beloochees and Sappers. Turning
our horses’ heads we proceeded onward. The change
to an open plain and a fresh wind in place of the long valley
and oppressive stillness was charming. One would have
thought oneself on the top of a Welsh hill. The ground
was a black peaty soil, with a short dried-up grass. Here
and there were small patches of cultivated ground, and
clumps of rock cropped up everywhere. Looking forward,
we could see that the general character of the ground was
that of a plain; but enormous masses of rock, of seven or
eight hundred feet in height, rose perpendicularly in fantastic
shapes sheer up from the plain. Here and there were
ranges of mountains, some of considerable altitude. Far in
the distance we could see hills rising between hills, but
never attaining any great height. Everywhere over the
plain were little groups of cattle and sheep grazing. We
were evidently in a thickly-populated country.
After about two miles’ ride we turned the corner of a
slight rise, and there before us lay the camp. It is prettily
situated on the side of a little valley, and faces the north.
The 10th Native Infantry are encamped on the right
wing; the Mountain Train occupy the centre; and the
3d Cavalry camp lies on the left. Behind the rise a
plain stretches away, and upon this the troops will be encamped
as they arrive. The soil of the valley-side and of
the plain beyond is a mere sand, covered with grass and
bushes, but in the hollow of the valley, where the stream
runs, or rather used to run, it is a deep black peat. Wells
are now being sunk in this peat, and these rapidly fill with
water. There are still deep pools where the stream formerly
ran, and dams have been formed, which will keep
back a considerable supply of water. The troops are not,
therefore, likely to fall short for some time, and if they
should, there is plenty at a stream two or three miles farther
on. The health of the troops is pretty good, but both
officers and men are subject to slight attacks of fever, much
more so than they were when encamped on the plain by
the sea. This is singular, for except that the nights are
rather cold, this feels the very perfection of climate. The
horses and mules are doing much better up here, and although
some died at first, it is probable that they had brought
the seeds of the disease with them from the pass below.
As it is, the cavalry have suffered terribly. The 5th Cavalry,
out of five hundred horses, have lost one hundred and seventy,
and the officers’ horses of the infantry and Mountain Train
have been nearly exterminated.
Things are very tranquil here. The King of Tigré,
after first being friendly, and then blustering a little, has
just at present, influenced probably by the reports of the
increasing force of the expedition, determined upon the prudent
policy of friendship, at any rate until he sees a better
opportunity of plunder than he does at present. Yesterday
afternoon an ambassador arrived from him, saying magnanimously,
Why should we not be friends? My foes
are your foes; my interests your interests. Take therefore
my forage, and my blessing.
Colonel Merewether is greatly
delighted at this message, and sees, through those rose-coloured
spectacles of his, an early end to the expedition.
Everyone else is perfectly indifferent. The King of Tigré’s
army of 7000 men could be scattered like chaff by a battalion
of Europeans; and if he ever sees a chance of falling
upon our rear, it is more than probable that his friendly
professions will go for nothing. I do not think that the
smallest reliance can be placed in the friendship of these
semi-savage chiefs.
We gave his ambassador a lesson this morning, which
will, I have no doubt, have its effect. It was a brigade field-day,
and Colonel Merewether took the ambassador out to
witness it. It is a great pity that the artillery and the infantry
had not a few rounds of blank cartridge, which would
have given his ambassadorship a much more lively idea of
what the real thing would be like, and would have given
him such a tale to bear to his king and master as would
have opened his Majesty’s eyes to what the consequences
of a war with us would probably be. But even as it was,
it no doubt had a very salutary effect. The enemy were
supposed to be holding a steep rise at the mouth of a long
valley. The infantry threw forward skirmishers, and the
mountain guns took up a position upon a neighbouring hill,
and were supposed to open a heavy fire. Presently the infantry
advanced in line, and made a rush up the steep rise.
As they reached the top they lowered bayonets to the charge,
and with a loud cheer rushed upon the defenders. An instant
afterwards the word Charge!
was given to cavalry,
and away they went down the valley, sweeping the enemy’s
supports and the fugitives from the hill before them for
half a mile, and then scattering in pursuit. It was very
well done, and, as I have said, no doubt had its effect, especially
when the ambassador was made to understand that
the force he saw before him was only one-tenth of our advancing
army. The movements of the troops were fairly
performed, and did great credit to their respective commanding-officers.
Their remaining horses are in excellent
condition, and are very strong serviceable animals. Their
uniform is a very effective one, light-blue and silver, with
white covers to their forage caps. The infantry, whose uniform
is precisely similar to our own, also wear white cap-covers.
Going out to the parade-ground, which is about
two miles distant from here, we passed several native villages,
and a great number of them can be seen scattered
all over the plains. The country, indeed, is very thickly
populated; very much more so than a rural district in England
of the same extent. The people possess goats, sheep,
and cattle in abundance, together with ponies, donkeys, and
mules. They are ready to sell all these animals to us, but
demand very high prices, which has been to a certain extent
encouraged by the prices Colonel Merewether has
ordered to be paid at the bazaar for them. Thus, he has
fixed the price of a goat at a dollar and a half, that is six
and ninepence, whereas I paid down in the pass only two
shillings for a goat, and could have bought any number
at that price. It is probable, too, that the current price
for goats, or indeed for any animals, is considerably less
here than in the valley, for there forage is extremely scarce,
and must be sought at long distances; whereas here it is
abundant, the plains being covered with it. Of course, this
price having been once fixed, the natives will not take less,
that is, in specie. They would take a shilling’s worth of
rice for a goat; but of course we have no rice to give them.
It may make but little difference to Colonel Merewether
whether he pays seven shillings or two shillings for a goat;
but the subalterns naturally grumble at having to pay three
times the real value for their food. Not, indeed, that the
officers here have to buy much, for their guns supplement
their rations to a very considerable extent. Guinea-fowls,
partridges, ducks, and geese abound, and a large number
are daily shot by the sportsmen of the camp. The ration
allowance of one pound of meat, including bone, a pound
of biscuit, two ounces of preserved vegetables, and a quarter
of a pound of rice, is quite insufficient for one’s wants
in a bracing atmosphere like this. The meat issued contains
an enormous proportion of bone, so that there is little
if at all more than half a pound of clear meat in a ration.
I am sure that I consume at least three times my daily
allowance of meat.
The natives completely swarm about our camp. The
men do not do much, but loiter about with their swords and
spears, and shields made of elephant-hide. These spears are
really formidable weapons. They are from six to ten feet
long, and weighted at both ends, and the natives are able
to throw them with great force and considerable accuracy
for a distance of over thirty yards. These would be ugly
weapons in a hand-to-hand fight in a bush, but as it is,
against a disciplined force armed with firearms, they are
simply absurd, and I have seen no offensive weapons—such
as bows or arrows—which could be used with effect against
us during the passage of a defile, in their possession, since
my arrival in the country. The women appear to do all
the work. They come into the camp in hundreds laden
with firewood, and keep up a perpetual cry of Lockaree,
lockaree!
—which is the Hindoostanee for wood, they having
picked up that word,—and Parnè!
water. Even the children
bring their bundles of wood. The women are not
nearly so pretty as some of them I saw down the pass, nor
are they so neatly clad. They are dressed in cotton and
leather; but neither are these so tastefully arranged, or so
fancifully ornamented with shells, as were those I described
in a previous letter. They are very thin, many of the children
painfully so, which is surprising when one sees the
abundance of their flocks and herds. The villages, too, are
well built. The houses are low and flat-roofed. They are
in many cases built of stone, and some of them have inner
courts, with a sort of veranda formed of boughs to sit under.
They have, like the Arab villages I saw at Alexandria, and
which they strongly resemble, no windows; but as the native’s
life is entirely passed in the open air, I suppose that matters
but little. The natives seem to feel the cold much,
and go shivering about in the early morning and evening in
a pitiful way. They bring in honey for sale in pots, weighing
about ten pounds, and for which they charge two dollars.
Their own drink is made of this honey, fermented
with the juice of a plant which grows abundantly upon the
plain. The honey, as they bring it into camp, is very impure,
and needs refining before using. The commissariat
officer rode out yesterday to one of the villages, and bought
a quantity of chillies, which will prove a great addition to
our fare when they begin to issue them, for we have had
no pepper served out since we landed; and a course of
mutton, unrelieved by condiment of any kind, is apt to pall
upon the stomach.
All praise must be given to the commissariat for the way
in which they have performed the service from Zulla to this
place. Not one day have the troops been without their rations;
and the animals, although they have not always received their
full supply, have yet always had something to eat at the end
of the day’s work. No commissariat officer accompanied the
pioneer force in their march up; but the whole arrangements
were made by Conductor Darcey, to whom the greatest credit
is due. During the whole march he did not lose a single
animal, or a single bag of grain. A commissariat officer has
arrived within the last two days; but honour should be given
where it is due, and certainly the greatest credit is due to
those noncommissioned officers for the manner in which,
alone and unaided, they have carried out the difficult duties
intrusted to them. Two prisoners were brought in yesterday.
They are part of the gang who have been infesting the pass,
robbing every convoy without a guard of Europeans. They
were captured by a friendly chief, who, with his men, came
upon the whole gang. The rest fled, throwing away their
weapons, of which quite a bundle was brought into camp.
The prisoners, being old men, were unable to escape, and
were brought in triumph by their captors into Rayray Guddy,
whence they were forwarded to Colonel Merewether. Their
preliminary examination by the interpreter took place in the
open air. The prisoners and their accusers squatted in a
circle, and a number of natives gathered round. These last
were evidently greatly amused and surprised at the formality
of the proceedings,—as the guilt of the accused was undoubted,
articles of European manufacture, such as portions
of harness, being found in their possession,—and the idea
being evidently prevalent that we should hang them at once.
They were removed to the guard-tent, and will, I suppose,
be regularly tried, and well flogged, in a day or two.
This expectation was not verified; the prisoners were let
off, with an admonition to behave better in future; and this
happened again and again. The absurd course pursued by
our political officer towards native offenders produced, as
might have been expected, very disastrous consequences
afterwards. The natives learnt that our baggage could
be plundered with impunity, and that even when taken red-handed
in the act, the chances were that no punishment
whatever would be inflicted. They naturally ascribed this
conduct on our part to fear—for in Abyssinia the punishment
for theft is very severe, the culprit frequently having
his hand cut off—and were encouraged to plunder accordingly.
A moderate share of energy, one grain of common
sense among the authorities at Senafe at this time, so that the
first two or three offenders caught plundering our convoys in
open day should have been flogged to within an inch of their
lives, and plundering would have been put a stop to at once
and for ever; and a very great many lives, both of our own
muleteers and of the natives themselves, would have been
eventually saved.
It is a great satisfaction to know that in the course of a
short time we shall be able to purchase for the use of the army
any number of bullocks and sheep. We have not been able
to do so heretofore, for the absurd reason that we have had no
money. Will it be believed that a body of troops marching
on into a country where it is supposed they would be able to
purchase any quantity of animals for themselves and the army
which is to follow them, should have come up with the military
chest totally unprovided with money? It is almost too
preposterous, but it is perfectly true. A chest of two thousand
pounds arrived yesterday under a guard. But what are two
thousand pounds when we want three or four thousand bullocks
alone, and when Colonel Merewether has fixed the price
of each at six dollars and a half—that is, as nearly as possible,
thirty shillings?
I shall be able to send you but little news from here.
Colonel Merewether proceeds to-morrow morning forty miles
into the interior. He takes with him a troop of cavalry, a
large stock of mules, &c., but he declines positively to allow
a confrère and myself to accompany him. He is civil, but
firm. The addition of two persons would probably break
down the whole party. Starvation might ensue, and he could
not guarantee that we should be fed.
These are actually
word for word the reasons he gives for declining to allow the
only two special correspondents here from accompanying his
force. He can victual himself, Colonel Phayre, three or four
other staff-officers, and a troop of cavalry; but two correspondents
were too much for the resources of the commissariat.
We called upon him twice; we urged upon him that it was
a matter of great interest to the public that we should go
forward. We said that we would put him to no trouble, but
would bring our own mules, with ten days’ provisions, if
necessary. He declined positively to allow us to go. He
would, when he returned, give us details, and that was all he
would do. The public, in fact, might read his official report
and be thankful; for none other, says he, shall they receive.
Had we arrived here as two unaccredited strangers, his conduct
was perfectly explicable; but provided as we were by
the courtesy of the India Office with letters to Sir Robert
Napier, and furnished by him, in consequence, with a circular
letter, requesting all officers of the army to forward our
wishes in every way, we certainly had not expected to have
been refused the chance of availing ourselves of the very first
opportunity which has fallen in our way of sending you something
really new from Abyssinia.
Camp, Senafe, December 23d.
At the time I closed my last letter I had no idea that my
next communication would be dated Senafe. Colonel Merewether’s
unaccountable refusal to allow my fellow-correspondent
and myself to accompany him upon his expedition had
rendered our further stay here useless.
Accordingly, an hour or two after the expedition had
started from camp, I packed up a light kit and started for the
sea-shore. The road, as far as the top of the first descent, is
now so free from stone that it might be used as a race-course,
but we found that nothing had yet been done with the zigzag
down the face of the hill. However, as we met no mules upon
our way it was an easy descent enough; indeed the whole
pass, from end to end, although it has its difficulties, still presents
no real obstacle to a single traveller. It is only when
viewed in the light of a highway for an army, as the only
line of communication up which the stores of 20,000 men
must come, that one considers it to be a really terrible business.
No forage is procurable for the baggage-animals between
the sea and Senafe, seventy miles. A large proportion,
therefore, of the mules is occupied in carrying food for themselves
and their companions. The stages, too, for heavily-burdened
animals across an exceedingly-rough road are distressingly
long. Twelve miles a-day, with a pause for an hour
to feed and water in the middle of the day, could be done by
heavily-loaded mules without deterioration of their quality.
But here all the stages, except the last, considerably exceed
that distance; and from Sooro to Rayray Guddy, over thirty
miles, is practically without food or water. This is what
makes the Koomaylo Pass so difficult as the highway of an
army—want of forage the whole distance, and long intervals
between the watering-places; to which may be added the
disease which infects the pass and decimates the animals as
they go up and down. The mule, although one of the most
enduring of creatures, and capable of sustaining great privations,
is yet a delicate animal. Feed him well, keep him supplied
with water and hay, and he will do wonders; but without
regular and abundant food he falls away rapidly. During
the last campaign in Italy there were thousands of mules engaged
transporting provisions up the Tyrol to Garibaldi. They
had great fatigue and long marches, but they were well fed
and had plenty of water; and consequently throughout the
campaign I never saw a dead mule, and hardly one out of
condition. Here it is just the reverse; the mules are greatly
fallen off, and although they are now much better fed, they
will be a very long time before they regain their lost strength.
In respect to food a great improvement has been effected in
the last few days. Captain Sewell has been here about a
week. He is in charge of the commissariat, and has purchased
considerable quantities of hay, which is now served
out to the mules here, and to their even worse-off brethren
down at Rayray Guddy; for here, at least, in their intervals
of labour the mules were able to graze, while in the valley
there is not a blade of grass to be had. Captain Mortimer,
indeed, who is in charge of the transport division there, only
kept his animals alive by compelling their drivers to go up
to the summit of the hills, either before their day’s work is
begun or after it was over, and to cut and bring down a certain
weight of hay. It is very fortunate that vultures are
so abundant in this country. Were it not for them the pass
would be unbearable from the taint of dead animals. Between
the top of the pass and Rayray Guddy, a distance of eight
miles, we passed more than that number of dead mules and
ponies, most of which had been only dead three days at most;
and everyone of these had been partially eaten by the vultures,
who keep wheeling and circling in the air overhead,
and scarcely is life out of an animal before these scavengers
swoop down upon it. I have seen as many as seven or eight
of these great birds eating and fighting over the carcass of a
single horse. The ride from the bottom of the steep incline
to Rayray Guddy I have already described, and it is certainly
the most beautiful ride of seven miles I ever traversed, the
brilliancy and variety of the foliage, the number and beauty
of the humming-birds and butterflies, all being in addition to
the ordinary scenery of a mountain pass. I find that the great
trees I described as tulip-trees are not really tulip-trees, although
their foliage strangely resembles that tree. Authorities
differ as to what they really are; some affirming that they are
banyan-trees, while others say that no banyan-tree was ever
seen without the long pendulous roots from its branches, of
which there are here no trace.
Upon reaching Rayray Guddy we found that Sir Charles
Staveley had arrived there two hours previously from Sooro.
He had not heard of the departure of Colonels Merewether,
Phayre, and Wilkins, and as the principal object of his
journey had been to see them, he was of course much disappointed.
However, he determined now he had come so
far, to go on to Senafe, and we decided upon returning with
him, as we had now no motive for going down, and, indeed,
it was possible that he might either ride out himself
to the point whither Colonel Merewether had gone, or might
send an aide-de-camp to request him to return, in either
of which cases we knew that he would grant us permission
to go. General Staveley was the more disappointed at the
absence of Colonel Merewether because he had taken the
precaution of writing two days previously to announce his
coming. The letter, of course, had not arrived, for the
general had performed the distance in three days from Zulla
to Senafe, and the post would take at least two days longer.
Nothing, indeed, can possibly be worse than the postal arrangements,
or rather want of arrangement. Relays of
men on foot carry the letters, and even these do not travel
at night. But the great question which everyone is asking
is, What becomes of the letters?
I have not received
a single letter or newspaper of a later date than November 4th.
Some few people have been more fortunate, and occasionally
get a letter or paper; but they are exceptions. One
feels as absolutely cut off from England as if a great gulf
had opened between us. I did hear this morning from someone
who had had the luck to receive an odd newspaper that
the amount for the Abyssinian war had been voted, and we
had a hearty laugh over the news that the expenses were
laid at four millions. I only hope that the post down is a
little better regulated than that up, for if not, instead of
getting my letters regularly once a-week, they will probably
arrive in a mass about the end of next June. The general
came up here on the 22d. He will, I believe, start on his
return journey to-morrow, whether Colonel Merewether and
his party come into camp or not, as his presence is absolutely
necessary on the sea-shore. It will be unfortunate if
he should miss them after his long journey up here, especially
as he had made certain of seeing them; for the committee
of exploration, which consisted of Colonels Merewether,
Phayre, and Wilkins, was dissolved by an order of General
Napier, which was published ten days since, and of which
these gentlemen of course received a copy. General Napier
thanked them warmly for their efforts to carry out their
duty, and for the success which had attended them, but
stated that General Sir Charles Staveley had gone to Zulla
to take the command until he himself arrived, and that
therefore there was no longer any occasion for the existence
of the committee. In the face of this order General Staveley
could hardly have expected that these gentlemen would have
proceeded on an expedition forty miles into the interior
without any consultation or reference to himself.
An important messenger came into the camp on the afternoon
of the 22d. He stated that he was the servant of
Mr. Flad, and, indeed, was identified as being so by several
people in camp. He stated that he had started with a letter
from Mr. Flad, and with one from King Theodore, but that
he had been robbed of them upon the way. He brought,
however, one piece of important and very disagreeable news,
namely, that Theodore had marched from Debra Tabor to
Magdala; had raised the siege of that place by the King
of Shoa, and had taken the whole of the captives back with
him to Debra Tabor. This is the most unfortunate occurrence
which could possibly have taken place. As long as
the captives were separated from him by his enemies they
were safe; and if, as will in all probability be the case, the
army of Theodore should disband at our approach, and
he himself rule safely in the fortresses of the mountains,
where search for him would be out of the question, we
should have marched to Magdala and effected the release
of the prisoners. Now we have no such hope. We may
toil on across mountain and ravine, but we know that our
hands are shackled, and that the tyrant we war against can
at any moment purchase peace upon his own terms. Theodore
can laugh our efforts to scorn; he knows that he need
not disquiet himself. He can let the expedition approach
him. He can chuckle over the enormous waste of treasure
and effort, even if not of human life; and he knows that at
the last moment he can arrest us with the ultimatum—Return
at once, and I will release my prisoners; move one
step forward, and I will sacrifice every one.
This is very
disheartening, and takes away from the expedition that zest
and buoyancy which the thought of a possible skirmish at
the end of the toilsome journey would give it. Nothing
could be more unfortunate than the loss of Theodore’s letter
by Mr. Flad’s servant. It may be that in it Theodore
offered to restore the captives at once upon the agreement
that we would advance no farther. It may be that he held
out the threat that the prisoners would be put to death did
we not at once agree to his terms. Altogether it is most
unfortunate. It is to be hoped that Theodore will see the
manifest likelihood of his messenger being stopped upon the
way, and will send his letter in duplicate by some other
hand. There is a rumour current among the natives this
morning that Theodore has released the captives, and that
they are upon their way down. There is, of course, no finding
out the origin of this report, but it is most unlikely
that he would deliver them up until, at any rate, he had
obtained a promise that we in return would abandon all
idea of advancing upon him.
The disease among the horses still continues. Those who
have been the longest up here appear comparatively safe, but
it would seem to require some time to get the disease out of
the blood. Every morning three or four mules are dragged
out of the camp to the foot of the hills, a mile off, there to be
eaten by the vultures. Yesterday afternoon my groom came
to me with the unpleasant intelligence, Sahib, your baggage-pony
ill.
I went out and found him lying down. Upon
the veterinary surgeon arriving he shook his head, and, pointing
to the swollen tongue, said that it was the disease, and
that in a couple of hours it would be dead. We tried brandy-and-water
in the vain hope of reviving him, but it was quite
useless, and in a little over the two hours the pony died,
having been apparently unconscious for an hour and a half
previously. Yesterday, too, the horse of Dr. Lamb, chief
veterinary surgeon of the transport corps, died. Dr. Lamb
came up with us a week since. After spending three days
here inspecting the animals he returned, but as he did not
wish his horse to run the risk of again going down into the
pass, he left it here in perfect health, and rode down again
upon a baggage-pony. Yesterday the poor animal died, after
the usual three hours’ illness. Dr. Lamb strongly recommended
that all animals which can be spared should be at
once sent up here. Unfortunately none of the baggage-animals,
except those which work the last stage from Rayray
Guddy here, can be spared. They must remain below
to carry up provisions and baggage whatever the mortality
may be. General Staveley has ordered that in future 10
per cent of spare animals shall accompany every train of
loaded mules, to take the baggage off those who give in on
the way. He has also ordered that the artillery-horses shall
be instantly sent up here with their native attendants. The
soldiers cannot accompany them, as their warm clothing has
not yet arrived. He has also ordered that the cavalry regiments
shall be sent on the instant they land. The general
has taken particular interest in the transport train since he
arrived at Zulla, and it is due to the order he gave and to
the assistance with which he supplied them from the 33d and
Beloochee regiments, that the train down at Zulla has been
enabled to make head against the tremendous difficulties they
have sustained owing to the wholesale desertion among the
drivers, and to the uselessness of a great portion of those who
remain. He has divided the baggage-animals which are in
the country into regular squadrons, stationing a number at
each station proportioned to the length and hardship of the
journey. General Staveley, indeed, is the very man for an
expedition of this sort. Whatever he sees is necessary, he
takes upon himself the responsibility of ordering to be done.
I consider his arrival at Zulla to have been most providential.
Everything was going wrong, disorder ruled supreme. All
this is now at an end. General Staveley has taken the command,
and unity of action is once more introduced. Whether
Colonel Phayre, now that his committee of exploration is dissolved,
may determine to go down to Zulla or to remain here,
is now of little importance, as Major Baigrie, the deputy-quartermaster-general,
is fully capable of carrying on the
duties, supported as he is by the weight of General Staveley’s
authority.
This morning the 10th Native Infantry were engaged in
clearing a large space of ground of stones, in order to make
it suitable for a parade-ground. It was wonderful to see how
fast they got through the work, and how much more they
accomplished than an equal number of Europeans would
have done in the same time. And this because squatting
is the normal attitude of an Oriental. In this attitude they
can remain for hours; therefore the work of collecting the
stones into heaps, which in turn were carried away in empty
rice-bags by another party, was the easiest affair possible.
It is very amusing looking on at these native fatigue-parties,
the varieties of costume are so great. The 10th Native Infantry,
like the Beloochees, is recruited from all parts of
India, and contain Mussulmans, Punjaubees, Sikhs, Patans,
Hill-men, and, in fact, specimens of most of the native races,
the Hindostanee proper being greatly in the minority. To a
certain extent these men cling to their own costume, consequently
in a party of a hundred of them on fatigue-duty the
variety is astonishing. Men in red turbans and white turbans,
in red, white, or violet nightcaps—these articles having
been served out to these men as part of their warm clothing—some
in coloured jackets, white underclothing, and long
drawers, others with nothing on but the cumberband, or loincloth,
some entirely in white, with their legs covered to the
knee. Many are the shades of colour too, from nearly jet
black down to the rich bronze of the Sikhs. Almost all are
fine, well-built men, and all appear to work with good temper
and with a will. The parade is to take place upon the new
ground to-morrow evening. It is not settled yet upon what
day General Staveley will leave, but his present intention is,
in case Colonel Merewether returns on the morning of the
25th, to start the same afternoon.
Camp, Senafe, December 26th.
When I wrote on the 23d instant I had not made up my
mind whether I should spend Christmas here or on the road
downwards. But circumstances finally compelled me to wait
here until to-day; and I am glad for several reasons that I
did so. The first and most important was in reference to the
story brought by Mr. Flad’s servant, namely, that Theodore
had marched to Magdala, had raised the siege of that fortress
by the rebels, and had taken all the captives back with him
to Debra Tabor. As this news was brought by a man who
was recognised by some in camp as being what he claimed—Mr.
Flad’s servant—his statement was received without suspicion,
and the event was justly considered to be most unfortunate.
When, however, the exploring-party returned, Dr.
Krapf, the chief interpreter, examined the man, cross-questioned
him as to time and dates, and found that these were
quite incompatible with the truth, as the man described them
as having taken place in the latter part of October, whereas
our last news from Mr. Flad himself was to November 7th,
at which time none of these movements had taken place. Finding
himself thus caught, the man confessed that his whole
statement was a lie. I need not say that this contradiction
of the false news gave the greatest satisfaction to everyone,
but the general feeling was that six dozen, well laid on, would
be of enormous benefit to the man who thus invented false
news, apparently merely for the pleasure of gratuitous lying.
Of course he will not be punished, for the policy pursued with
respect to the natives is mild in the extreme. By all means
conciliate natives, by all means pay for all you take, do no
wrong to anyone; but at the same time make them respect
you by the firmness with which you administer justice upon
thieves and plunderers, and do not encourage the people to
cheat you by ordering a price at least six or eight times above
their former prices for every animal or article you buy. The
men who were taken in the act almost of robbery down the
pass, and whose preliminary examination I described a week
since, have not been flogged, or, as far as I am aware, in any
way punished, nor have three other ruffians who were captured
the following day. The natives put this forbearance
down to timidity on our part. They cannot comprehend
that any other feeling could prevent our punishing these
men, who have been robbing our convoys, now that we have
them in our power. It may be a course of Christian forbearance,
but officers whose kits have been plundered are very
sore that fellows of this kind are not summarily punished
upon the spot.
The exploring-party went forward to Attegrat, a place of
some size, about thirty-five miles from here. They went by
one route and returned by another. One line was rather
more mountainous than the other, but both are, I hear, quite
practicable, and water, forage, and wood were found in abundance.
At Attegrat a large fair was going on, and very
large quantities of cattle, sheep, goats, ponies, and mules,
together with grain, chillies, honey, &c., were exposed for
sale. The appearance of the escort of cavalry excited the
greatest curiosity, and the party were almost mobbed as they
walked through the fair. On parts of the route they passed
through enormous flights of locusts, which the people were
endeavouring to frighten away from their fields by beating
drums and pieces of metal together, and by lighting great
fires. The locusts abound everywhere here; not a bush
which has not half-a-dozen of these insects, hardly a rock
without one or two crawling over it. The natives say they
have not had so many for years, and that the crops have
been very greatly damaged by them. The only things which
benefit by them are the monkeys and birds, both of which
feed upon them. The natives themselves also eat them to a
certain extent. The method of preparation is as follows: A
large hole is made in the ground. This is lined smoothly
with clay. A large fire is lighted in this, and when this has
burnt down the ashes are scraped out, the hole is filled with
locusts, and covered up with clay. When the insects are
sufficiently baked they are taken out and pounded into a fine
powder, which is eaten mixed with rice or flour. At Attegrat
the expedition found blocks of salt used as the medium
of exchange: we have not seen any in this part of the
country. In the fair they also saw some really warm cloths
of native manufacture. This is important, as, if the supply
turns out to be abundant, it will save the expense of bringing
warm clothing for the native troops from England. Indeed,
warm clothes appear to me to be a most unnecessary portion of
our enormous baggage. The weather by day, even at this the
coldest time of year, and upon one of the most elevated parts
of our journey, is never cold enough for warm clothing. At
night men require an extra blanket for warmth, and this they
might wrap round them over their greatcoat upon unusually
cold nights. On Christmas-eve the general inspected the
troops, who performed several manœuvres. He left on
Christmas-day at three o’clock, four hours after the return of
the expeditionary force, and having had a conversation of
some length with Colonels Merewether and Phayre. One
good result among the many brought about by the general’s
visit here will be, that we shall now have some little attention
paid to health. A medical officer had been appointed as sanitary
officer, but his appointment, for any good it did, might
as well have never been made. It was not that this officer
failed in his duty, or that there was no need for his services;
on the contrary, the state of the watering arrangements was
disgraceful, the native troops washing, &c. in the pools above
those from which the drinking-water was taken. The water
certainly has to filter through the peat before it reaches the
other pools, but that is little satisfaction. It is true that this
was against orders, but the number of sentries posted was
quite insufficient, or else they winked at the proceedings of
their fellow-soldiers. I myself rode past half-a-dozen times,
and never without seeing native soldiers washing on the edge
of the pool. The latrine arrangements connected with the
10th Native Infantry hospital were also simply scandalous.
But worst of all was the state of the pass, dotted with dead
baggage-animals in every stage of decomposition, and the
stench from which was almost overpowering. The sanitary
officer had pointed out these evils, and had applied for power
to take on a few natives to burn the carcasses in the pass.
This suggestion, however, had been passed over as absurd,
and he might as well have been in Bombay. Nothing whatever
was done. General Staveley, however, restored this
officer to his proper place, and gave him authority to take on
the natives and burn the dead animals, which, had nothing
been done, were offensive enough to have created the worst
epidemic among the advancing troops. Other medical officers
have been appointed to take bands of coolies and clear
the different stages of this pass. The horse-disease still continues
very bad. Of the six horses brought up by the
general and the members of his staff, four were taken ill the
day after his arrival here. They do not, however, appear to
have taken it in a virulent form, and will, I hope, get over
it. Yesterday being Christmas-day was of course kept with
all honour; that is to say, with such honours as could be
paid. It was hard to believe it was Christmas-day, especially
among native troops; to them, of course, it was no festival.
The day was fine and hot—the thermometer 75° in the shade,
but very hot where there was no shelter. I fastened a large
bunch of fir and of a plant somewhat resembling myrtle to
my tent-pole, and two or three of the other tents were similarly
decorated. One of the engineer officers had quite a
triumphal arch of green erected before his tent. Large circular
arbours were built up by the 10th Native Infantry and
by the 3d Cavalry, to serve as shelter from the wind while
they sat round the fire after dinner. I was invited by the
3d Native Cavalry to take my Christmas dinner with them,
and a capital dinner it was under the circumstances. Two
huge bunches of fir were fastened to the tent-poles, the table
was formed of the lids of packing-cases, and we sat round
upon boxes and chairs of every height and make. Here was
a man on a seat so low that his chin hardly appeared above
the table; next to him one perched up so high that his knees
were on a level with his plate. Nor were the fittings of the
table less various. It was the camp rule that everyone
should bring his own plates, knives, forks, and glasses.
Some of us therefore fed off tin, some off crockery, some
off enamelled iron. Some drank from glasses, some from
pewter-pots. The only uniformity was in the bottle of
champagne placed before each diner. Most of us would, I
think, have preferred beer; but there was not a bottle left in
the camp, and the champagne before us had been hoarded for
this sacred occasion. The dinner was various. Mutton and
guinea-fowl; spur-fowl and venison; but, whatever we ate,
everyone present religiously took a piece of the joint of roast
beef. It was the only reminder of the occasion. I need not
say how heartily each joined in the toast of All friends at
home.
I start this afternoon on my way down the pass again to
Zulla, and shall carry this letter down to post there, as the
ridiculous arrangements to which I have before alluded still
prevail. A native still creeps up and down the pass with a
bag on his back, and takes his four or five days to do the
seventy miles, whereas two relays of men on mules or ponies
would bring the bag down in fifteen hours easily. As it is,
no one knows whether they will be in time to catch a post or
not. In fact, it is a pure haphazard proceeding.
Zulla, Annesley Bay, January 2d, 1868.
I have been now three days back in Zulla, which is literally
crowded with troops. In respect to the pass, nothing
could be more surprising than the change which has taken
place in the road during the fortnight which has elapsed since
I first passed up. This is due to the way in which the sappers
and miners, under officers of the Royal Engineers, and
the advanced companies of the Beloochees, under Major Hogg,
have worked. The latter are at work in the valley below the
Rayray Guddy pass, and here they make very nearly a mile
of road a day, along which artillery might be taken without
difficulty. It is wonderful to see the change which they have
effected, and the hearty way in which they work. Not less
surprising is the change which the sappers and miners have
effected in the Sooro Gorge. When I last rode up it, it was,
as I described it, all but impracticable for loaded animals.
One had to clamber over a huge boulder here, to scramble
through between two others there. It was a really difficult
proceeding, and loaded camels were unable to get through
the narrow places. Now all this is changed. A path winds
here and there among the rocks, down which I was able to
ride my horse without the smallest difficulty. The worst part
of the journey was the passage of the thirty-three miles between
Rayray Guddy and Sooro, without water, except a
bucket of pea-soup-coloured stuff at Guinea-fowl Plain for
the animals. It is proposed to sink more wells at this point,
to put up some pumps, and to establish a small commissariat
dépôt, in order that troops may break their march there. As
we rode down this dry parched valley for thirty miles, occasionally
meeting detachments of weary men, who asked us
pitifully how far it was to water, we could not help thinking
of one of Colonel Phayre’s reports, in which he stated,
From Sooro to Senafe, about thirty miles more, water
never fails.
The fact being, not one single drop is to be
found in the thirty miles above Sooro, save at one muddy
well.
At Koomaylo I found an astonishing change. The thorn-trees
which had lined the bottom of the valley had been all
cut down; a large space had been cleared as a camping-ground
for troops as they march through; fresh wells have been sunk,
and there are some of the American pumps at work, discharging
a stream of clear water, which, flowing through a succession
of tubs, enables the animals to be watered in one quarter
the time formerly occupied. These pumps, which are called
the Douglas pitcher-spout pump,
are certainly admirable
machines. When I had first heard of their arrival, and of
the principle of their construction, I had not thought it possible
that they could be used in such ground as this. They
consist of a number of thin iron tubes like gas-pipes, screwing
into each other, the lowest one terminating in a sharp spike
of slightly bulbous form, so that, being thicker than the rod
itself, it only touches the soil through which it is driven at
that point, thus greatly diminishing the friction and resistance.
On to the pipe, at about four feet from its upper end,
is screwed a block of iron, which can be shifted as the rod
gradually descends. A heavy weight of iron, with a hole
through it, is put on the rod above this block, and to this
weight ropes are attached working through pulleys placed on
the top of the rod four feet higher. Two men pull these
ropes, and the weight rises, and then falls, acting as a rammer
upon the anvil of iron below. In this manner the whole
rod is driven down, fresh lengths being added as required,
and then a pump is established without the labour of sinking
a well. The whole thing is simple in the extreme, and admirably
adapted for clay or gravel soils. It could, however,
hardly be expected to be successful in the bed of a torrent,
where the gravel is mixed with blocks of stone of every size,
as it is evident that a hollow pipe could not be driven through
solid rock. The tube, however, in nine cases out of ten,
pushes any obstacle aside, and reaches the required depth.
It is intended to arrange a series of troughs, so that the animals
may be enabled to drink upon their arrival without the weary
hour of waiting which they have now to go through. Indeed,
it is a wonder that serious accidents have not occurred owing to
the eagerness with which the maddened animals struggle and
fight to get to the water. At Koomaylo we found two
companies of the 33d regiment. They have since been joined
by another, and the three marched last night on their way to
Sooro. Three other companies of the same regiment marched
from here this morning, and will at once follow their advanced
wing, while the head-quarters and remaining companies go
on to-morrow. There is also a battery of the Royal Artillery
at Koomaylo, that is, the guns, and a portion of the men are
there, the horses and drivers having been sent up to Senafe
to be clear of the disease. I met them at Sooro, and the animals
were then all in splendid condition, and not a single
horse or baggage-animal was as yet affected. Great as I
had found the changes at other points along the line, the alterations
were as nothing to those which had taken place at
Zulla. The harbour contained more than double the number
of vessels that were here before. It is probable that hardly a
great commercial port in the world contains such a fine fleet
of steamers and sailing-transports as are now lying off this
place, of which no one had ever heard six months ago. The
camp, too, was so altered that I had the greatest difficulty in
finding the tent I was in search of, although it stood precisely
where I left it three weeks since. But the place, which then
contained under twenty tents, can now count ten times that
number. The 33d are encamped to the right of the landing-place,
at a quarter of a mile distant. General Staveley and
his staff have moved their tents from the spot where they before
stood, in the very centre of the dust and din of the place,
to a little beyond the 33d lines, where General Napier’s tents
are also pitched. The harbour is full of troops, who are clamouring
for carriage to enable them to get on. The Scinde
Horse are landing, as are the 3d Native Infantry. The 25th
Native Infantry and her Majesty’s 4th Foot are there, as are
artillery batteries and mountain trains, as are mules and
horses innumerable, and a bewildering amount of stores.
Very large quantities of these latter are now being forwarded
to the front, and 3000 of the little cattle and donkeys of the
natives have been engaged upon the service. The price paid
is two and a quarter dollars per bag, and each bullock carries
two bags, some of the smaller donkeys taking one each. The
natives are responsible for any loss of stores, but up to the
time I left Senafe not one single bag had gone astray. These
animals are rather a nuisance to meet going down the pass.
Our own mules go in strings, one tied behind the other, and
the drivers, if one meets them, endeavour, as far as possible,
to make room for an officer to pass. The natives, on the
contrary, drive their animals in a herd before them, occupy
the whole width of the track, and make no effort whatever to
get their cattle out of the way. It is in vain shouting and
being angry. The Shohos regard one with placid indifference,
and you must push your horse into a thorn-thicket or
up a rock to get out of their way. If you happen to overtake
one of these native herds in rather a narrow place, it is still
more provoking, for there is nothing to do for it but to follow
patiently in their train for perhaps half-a-mile, half smothered
in the dust they raise, until the valley opens, and you are able
to leave the path, and get past them among the stones and
scrub. These oxen are very small, but extremely hardy.
There is nothing for them in the way of forage all the way
up. All they have to eat are a few leaves from the bushes,
and such handfuls of grass as their masters may get for them
by climbing the sides of the hills, and yet they arrive at Senafe
in good condition and without signs of distress, with their
skin smooth, and their eyes bright. This accession of stores
at Senafe is a great assistance. It is an addition to our stock
there, and it is a great relief to the transport corps to be able
to continue their regular work of forwarding regiments, and
stores for present consumption of man and beast. The transport
train is now doing its work very much better; but I
shall have more remarks to make upon them in my next.
Brigadier-general Collings started yesterday to take the
command at Senafe, and I expect to find that very material
changes have, in consequence, taken place there. Brigadier-general
Schneider has arrived here, and will take the command
at this landing-place.
The great event of to-day is the arrival of Sir Robert
Napier, whose ship, her Majesty’s steam-ship Octavia, Captain
Colin Campbell, was signalled as about to enter the harbour
early this morning. The anchor was dropped at about
half-past ten, and General Staveley and the heads of departments
went off at once to see him. He is to disembark this
evening. As it is war-time, there was no salute or demonstration
upon the arrival of the ship.
Zulla, Jan. 6th.
It is only after a ride or two round camp that one sees
how very great are the changes which have taken place in
the last three weeks. I do not know that anywhere in the
world could more objects of various interest, more life and
movement and bustle, be found than in a couple of hours’
ride through this camp. Start we from the head of the
bunder—in England called pier; but here everything has its
Indian name. The bunder has, since I last wrote, been
lengthened a few yards, and has been widened at the end
to a width of fifteen or twenty yards. On one side, too,
wooden piles have been driven down, so that the great landing
barges can lie safely alongside and discharge. It will
be a great thing when it is finished in the same way all
round the pier-head. Not very pleasant are one’s first steps
upon Abyssinian soil, for the pier is made of great rough
pieces of rock and pumice-stone, painful to walk upon, and
utterly destructive to boots. In spite of this the pier-head
is crowded. The hour at which we start upon our ride is
daybreak, and from daybreak until eight o’clock bathing is
allowed from the pier, as also from five to seven in the evening.
Here we have a number of figures, some dressing,
some undressing, some picking their way painfully over the
stones to their clothes, others in the act of plunging into
the water, which is at high tide seven feet deep. Around,
the sea is dotted with heads, many of which we recognise
and address. Here is a quartermaster-general, there a colonel
of infantry, next to whom is a drummer-boy, and beyond
a dozen privates. There is no distinction of rank here.
Everyone picks out the softest stone he can find to sit upon,
and cares nothing whether his next neighbour be a general
officer or a full private. We pick our way as well as we
can across this bit of rough ground and through the groups
of bathers, and then at ten yards from the head of the pier
we come upon smoother ground. Here is a line of rails,
and the surface has been smoothed by spreading sand over
it, an improvement which has only been completed two or
three days since. Before, a walk down the bunder was
certain destruction to any but the most iron-shod pair of
boots. By the side of the bunder, where the rail commences,
a large barge is lying. She has just come alongside, and
fifty or sixty mules and ponies, her cargo, are looking over
her rail with excited eyes and restless inquiring ears at the
bustle on the quay, and at this land, which, although they
know it not, is destined to be the grave of many of them.
On the pier, awaiting their arrival, is one of the indefatigable
officers of the transport train. He has with him a
couple of men. A long gangway is laid from the barge,
which is much higher than the pier, down on to the stones;
on this are thrown some gunny-bags, and then the animals,
some coming readily enough, others resisting strenuously,
snorting and struggling, are led down. As they reach the
land their head-ropes are tied together in fours, and they
are sent off with their drivers to wait at the end of the
bunder until all are landed. It is not a long operation. Ten
minutes or so, and then an inspector takes them off, first
to the watering-troughs and then to the lines. Opposite
the landing-barge, on a vacant spot on the pier, a distilling
apparatus is at work. This machine, I believe, partly supplies
the sailing-ships, and also the wants of the fatigue-parties
at work on the pier. Next to the barge lie two native
boats discharging stores, which a fatigue-party are loading
into the trucks, under the direction of the officers of the
quartermaster’s or commissariat departments. As soon as
the trucks are loaded, a party of Soumalis seize them and
push them along the track to the yard, shouting their universal
chorus as they do so. Next to the native craft unloading
are a number of boats belonging to the ships in
harbour, and which are either supplied to one of the departments,
or are waiting while their skippers are on shore. On
the opposite side of the pier the water is more shallow, and
boats never come in here, but it is by no means empty at
present, for there are a couple of hundred men bathing all
along—less adventurous spirits, who do not care for the
plunge into deep water, or for walking over pumice-stones
with naked feet.
When we get to the end of the bunder we mount our
horses, which our gorrawallahs have been holding, and we
follow the line of rails. As soon as we are fairly ashore, we
find great piles of stores lying by the rails. These belong
to the land transport stores. Hundreds of great cases,
each containing four Otago mule-saddles. Piles of Bombay
pads and of camel-saddles. Their other stores are sent up
to their own lines, a quarter of a mile farther; but the
heavy saddles have not been sent there, as the line has only
been opened to that point during the last two days, and it
is much easier to bring the mules down and to saddle them
here than it is to take the heavy cases on farther. There
is a saddling-party at work now. It consists of a fatigue-party
of artillery, directed by an officer of the transport
corps. A Chinese carpenter opens the cases. Two of the
men lift the contents out, and cut the lashings which secure
each separate article of the fittings together. Others stand
round and fit the saddles together—no easy task, for they
are extremely complicated. This, however, is not of so
much consequence as it would otherwise be, for, once put
together, they do not require much subsequent unstrapping.
Others then put the saddles and bridles on to the mules,
some of which object most strongly to the operation, pull
back violently, turn round and round as fast as the man
with the saddle approaches, and lash out with a steady power
which, exerted in any other way, would be highly satisfactory.
In vain the soldiers try to keep them steady. In
vain pat, coax, strike, and swear. In vain they strap up
one of the fore-legs. Some of the beasts are quite unmanageable,
and are only subdued by strapping up a leg,
and then keeping them going round and round upon the
other three until quite exhausted. The cases of the saddlery
are broken up, and spread out upon the ground to pile bags
of rice or grain upon—no unnecessary precaution, for a
high tide the other night wetted an immense quantity of
hay, and the stores have been since shifted farther inland.
The engineers had constructed a sort of sand-wall to prevent
the recurrence of such an event; but they calculated
without their host. They fortified against the enemy in front,
but made no account of him in the rear. The consequence
was that in the heavy rain of Saturday night the water
came rushing down from behind, and being prevented flowing
into the sea by this dam, again created a small flood,
but this time of fresh water, in the commissariat yard. The
commissariat yard when I was last here stood where the
transport yard now stands, but it is now shifted more to the
left. The reason of this was that the commissariat stores,
the bundles of compressed hay and the bags of rice and
grain, are not too heavy to be carried ashore by the natives,
while the heavy cases of the transport corps necessarily
were put in the cars. The commissariat stores are therefore
principally landed in native boats, which come into
three-foot water, and from which lines of wading Soumalis
bear them to land. The heavier stores, such as barrels of
rum and ghee, are of course landed on the bunder and
brought up on the trucks. Everywhere about the end of
the pier is bustle. Here are a party of Madras coolies moving
stores. There are a hundred mules just starting with
provisions for the front. Here come a detachment of one
of the regiments to take charge of some of their baggage
just being landed. Everywhere an energetic officer of the
various departments directing the operations. We now ride
on. Leaving the line of rails we turn to the right, bearing
gradually away from the sea. The first group of tents
we come upon are those of the officers of the land transport.
They will not be there long, however, for they have
orders to shift over to the other side, where the lines of
their animals are five minutes’ walk away, and at the extreme
right of the camp. Did these officers’ duties lie
principally at their lines, there would be some reason for
this; but as it is, they are either on the bunder landing
horses, or else saddling down by the shore. The duties
of looking after the animals in their lines have of course
to be generally supervised by an officer from each division,
but are under the charge of English inspectors, who are
sergeants in cavalry or line regiments. The lines, being to
leeward of the camp, are constantly enveloped in a cloud
of blinding dust, so thick that one cannot see fifty yards.
To live in such an atmosphere is next to impossible, especially
when delicately scented by the odour of the three or
four thousand mules, ponies, and oxen, to say nothing of
the native attendants close at hand. The former spot where
they were encamped was only five minutes’ walk distant,
and to insist upon these officers living and working close
by their lines is about as reasonable as an order would be
for the officers of the Life Guards to sleep in their stables.
I am convinced that General Schneider will have to revoke
his order, for it will be simply impossible to keep books or
accounts in a dust which would be two inches thick in five
minutes upon everything; and although an officer’s comfort
or health may be a very trifling matter, anything which
might be an obstacle to his returning the necessary number
of reports and statements will be certain to be considered.It was not for some months after this date that the transport officers
were allowed to move their camp to a more habitable spot.
Riding through the transport officers’ lines, we come upon
a line of tents occupied by the medical staff. Then comes
a gap, and then we enter the lines of the European regiments,
at present occupied by portions of the 33d and 4th
infantry and artillery. Its appearance bears little resemblance
to that presented by a regiment under canvas at
home. The tents are of an entirely different shape; they
are single-poled tents, and are perhaps fifteen feet square.
They have canvas walls of nearly six feet high, so that one
can stand upright anywhere. Above the tent itself is a
cover, which extends over it and projects three feet beyond
the walls, making the tent double over the roof, and forming
an awning around it. About eight inches is left between
the two roofs for the circulation of air. These tents
are in their way perfect, but they are extremely heavy, and
will be left here, and the troops will take up with them tents
known as native routies
—I do not guarantee the spelling
of this or any other native word—which I shall describe
hereafter. Not less than the tents do the men differ
from the European standard. The gray suits of karkee—a
sort of stout jean—and the ugly helmets of the same material,
look like anything rather than the garb of the British
soldier. Then, too, the arrangement of the camp looks unfamiliar,
for the tents are placed far asunder. This is necessitated
by the great length of the ropes of the tent. Here,
too—strange sight in an English camp—interspersed among
the tents are queer bowers of shrubs, covered with gunny-bags,
old sacks, and other odds and ends. Round these
bowers squat swarthy figures scantily clothed. These are
the camp-followers, the attendants on the British soldier;
these their abodes. These men draw his water, pitch his
tents, sweep out his camp—in fact, perform all the work
which a soldier in England does for himself. In India the
soldier is a valuable animal. He is valued at one hundred
pounds, and is too costly to be risked by doing hard work in
the sun. He is kept for fighting only, and it is very right
that it should be so. It has been questioned whether it
would not have been better to have brought soldiers direct
from England, who are accustomed to rough it for themselves.
There is much to be said upon the subject, to which
I shall some day revert, but at present I am inclined to
think that in this respect the authorities have judged rightly,
for judging by the 102° which the thermometer marked here
in the shade on New Year’s-day, we shall have a more than
Indian heat—that is, those down upon this plain will—in
the middle of summer, and although the heat in the interior
will probably be nothing to what it will be here, there can
be no doubt that the less men are exposed to it the better.
But we must continue our ride.
Just behind the European lines, that is, between them
and the sea, is a line of tents, some of which are of large
size, and by the side of one of these the British ensign is
flying. These are the tents of the head-quarters staff. We
turn our backs on this and gallop across the European lines,
that is, inland. There is an unoccupied space of perhaps
four hundred yards, and then we come upon a camp of
quite different aspect from the last. Here the tents are
ranged in two lines, and are placed quite close together,
that is, with not more than three or four yards between
them. The neat and orderly appearance of these lines of
tents shows to all the greater advantage after the straggling
look of the European lines. These tents are routies. They
are large double-poled tents, single, but lined with blue
bunting. The tents, like the English bell-tents, reach nearly
to the ground, with only a wall of about eighteen inches in
height. The opening is at one end, and extends from the
pole downwards. This is, for a climate like the present, a
great drawback, for the opening is very large and cannot
be closed. In a hot climate this would matter but little;
but for a country with heavy dews and cold nights in winter,
and with heavy downpours in the rainy season, it is a very
serious disadvantage. Opposite the long line of the routies
are the mess and officers’ tents. There are two regiments
camped in these lines, or, more properly, portions of two
regiments. The men on duty look more like England than
the European troops had done, for they are all in their
scarlet tunics and black trousers. It is only the headgear
which is different. The 3d Native Infantry have blue puggaries
round their forage-caps. The 25th Native Infantry
have green. The 10th Native Infantry wear white puggaries,
and the Sappers and Miners black, and this acts as an easily-distinguished
mark between the various native regiments. They
all wear the regulation tunic and trousers, but vary the puggary
or cap-cover according to the taste of their commander.
When I say they all wear the British uniform, I mean that
the old sepoy regiments do so. Some of those who have only
been admitted among the regular Indian army of late years,
such as the Beloochees, wear quite different uniforms. I
have omitted to state that in our ride between the 33d and
Native Infantry camps, we passed through some artillery;
but these, as well as the sappers and miners, and the ordnance
commissary tents—which, with the telegraph, railway,
and other departments, are pitched near the line of
railway—I must reserve for another letter. We are only
making a tour of the outside of the camp upon the present
occasion. Riding on through the native infantry lines, and
crossing a few hundred yards of open ground, we come to
the bazaar, which is on the main road to Koomaylo. The
bazaar is certainly not much to look at. Two or three dozen
tents, composed of rough poles covered with matting, constitute
it. As there are no windows to any of these establishments,
it is unnecessary to state that there is no display
of goods. There is an open doorway through which any intending
purchaser enters, and asks for anything he desires.
If it is kept there a box is opened and the article produced,
if not he goes into the next shop. There is a guard of
European soldiers at the entrance to the bazaar to keep
order, and their services are not unfrequently called into
requisition. During the last part of our ride we have fairly
got into the dust, which hangs over Zulla in a sort of lurid
cloud, and entirely shuts off all the view, even the nearest
hills from the harbour. This dust is terrible. It fills the
eyes, mouth, and nostrils, and equals the dust on the Champ
de Mars in Paris, which I had hitherto considered unrivalled
in the world. Sometimes the wind blows steadily,
and then there is one great uniform swoop of dust; at other
times it seems to lull for a while, and then from three or
four spots a straight column ascends, such as burning piles
of green wood upon a calm day might produce. These
columns will remain stationary for three or four minutes,
and then move rapidly along, and woe to the unfortunate
tents over which they may pass, for they will make a clean
sweep of every light object, and will leave three inches
deep of sand on everything. In camp phraseology, these
little whirlwinds are called devils. Passing from the bazaar,
still moving as before in the arc of a circle, we come upon
the railroad. The railroad has made far less progress in
the last month than anything else here has done; at this
rate it will not be near Koomaylo by next Christmas. I
do not hesitate to say that ten English navvies would have
done very much more in the same time; and as for the
Army Works Corps, which we had in the Crimea, they
would have half-finished it to Koomaylo. But this delay
is due to no want of zeal on the part of those who have the
direction of it, but simply a want of method, and of materials,
which are, no doubt, somewhere on board ship, but
cannot be got at. Just at this part we pass under some
poles with a fine copper wire extending between them. This
is the telegraph, which in a very short time will be open
to Koomaylo, and thence will be pushed on in a week or
so, for the wire is at all the stations along the line of march;
and it would have been completed to Senafe by this time
were it not that the poles have not come to hand, from
some reason or other.
We now are approaching the lines of the transport animals.
This is the most interesting sight in the whole camp.
Here are long lines of ponies, just arrived from Suez. Next
to them are hundreds of mules of all nations and breeds.
Here are the cart-mules, and 200 light carts, to be drawn
by one or two animals, are ranged near them. Beyond them
are the baggage-mules, 600 in number. All of them have
arrived during the last two or three days; many of them
have not yet been saddled, for the unpacking and fitting
together of the saddles is a long and tedious operation. Many
of the mules are not even branded. Beyond them, again,
come the draught-oxen, with their carts. They are the same
beautiful white Brahmin cattle which I saw at Bombay—enormous
animals, as strong as camels and quiet and docile
as sheep. Near them are ranged their carts, which are of
altogether different construction from those for the mules. On
the ground under the feet of all these animals is scattered
a thick layer of chopped straw and hay, and their condition
and state afford as strong a contrast as can possibly be conceived
to that of the famished, dying animals I described
in the letter I wrote upon landing a month since. This extraordinary
improvement must be assigned to the immense
efforts which all the officers of the Transport Corps have
made, and especially to those of Captain Twentyman, of the
18th Hussars, who during that period has been in command.
But even the exertion of all these officers would have been
in vain had it not been for the strong and cordial assistance
which General Staveley has given to Captain Twentyman.
Every suggestion made by the latter has been indorsed and
ordered to be carried out by the general, who is fully alive
to the fact that the Transport Corps is the all-important
branch of the expedition. The animals are all picketed by
their head-ropes to long lines of picket-rope, but no heel-ropes
are used. Certainly the use of heel-ropes adds greatly
to the uniformity of the appearance of picketed animals, as
they all retain the same distance from each other and from
the ropes, and there is also the advantage that they cannot
kick each other or any passer-by. On the other hand,
it may be said that mules seldom or never do set to and
kick when picketed. I have seen no instance of their so
doing; and I understand from the transport officer that there
have been no cases of mules being injured by kicks received
when picketed. The advantages of their not having foot-ropes
are that they have much greater freedom of position.
They can lie down, get up, and move across the
rope, and, in fact, stretch their tired limbs far better than
they can when they are confined by foot-ropes; and, lastly,
the mules are not accustomed to the ropes, and frequently
get sore fetlocks from their use. The balance of advantages
is, then, in favour of allowing them to remain picketed only
by their head-ropes, especially as the fastening by the heel-rope
involves driving in pegs and loss of time in roping—matters
of importance when a train arrives late at night
with drivers and animals alike jaded and fatigued. The
whole of the animals are now in fair working condition, with
the exception only of about 200 camels, which are out at
Hadoda, where they were sent to recruit, having arrived in
too bad a condition to be set to work. There were more
sent out, but some have returned to work, others have died—many
of pure starvation, although there were stores of
grain lying at Weir, within two or three miles, literally
rotting. But the custom is not to give camels grain, but
allow them to get their livelihood by plucking a few leaves
from the shrubs. It is not to be wondered at, then, that
the poor beasts gained no strength. This will now be remedied,
for Dr. Lamb, one of the veterinary surgeons of
the Transport Corps, has reported that they are dying of
pure starvation; and I understand that General Staveley at
once ordered that grain should be issued to them.
In my next letter I shall describe the organisation of
the Transport Corps; but at present we must continue our
ride, which is now nearly over, for we have almost completed
our circle, and are again approaching the sea-shore.
We pass on our way some strange bower-like structures,
whose progress I have watched for the last few days with
some curiosity. I first saw three or four long lines of sand,
which were carefully levelled, and were four or five yards
wide, and perhaps fifty yards long. By each side of these
lines of sand coolies were engaged sticking rods, about the
same length, but thinner, than hop-poles. I could not even
guess the object of these lines. Next day I found that poles
had been stuck in across the ends, and that at distances of
four yards across partitions had been made. Riding close,
I saw that in the side row a gap was left as a doorway to
each of these partitions. The next day I found that thinner
rods were being fastened to the tops of the others—along
which horizontal pieces had been tied—and that these were
being bent over and twined in the centre, so as to form a
bower. The mystery was now explained. These long rows
of poles were the framework for rows of huts; bushes are
to be entwined between them, and the whole, when finished,
will accommodate, or rather hold, five hundred of the commissariat
coolies, for whom they are destined. We now
trot on to the watering-place. The last time I was here
it was one of the most painful sights I ever witnessed to
see the animals watered. They were formed in lines near
the miserable little troughs, and were with the greatest difficulty
kept back until these were full. Half maddened with
thirst as they were, it was a service of real danger to restrain
them, and when they were allowed to rush forward
it was too often to find that there was scarcely a mouthful
of water each. It was no wonder that they screamed and
struggled and fought. It was a battle for life, in which
the victors moved off unsatisfied, but with sufficient water
to enable them to live until the next scanty supply was issued,
while the vanquished dragged themselves away to die.
Thank God this is over now. There is plenty of water for
all. I do not think an animal in this camp has an insufficiency
of water. The trough is long and wide, and the
animals advance on each side and drink as much as they
desire. The times for watering them is from six to eight
in the morning, and from four to six of an evening. A
strong fatigue-party are present to pump the water from
the tank into the trough, and to keep order. They are
ordered to leave the trough full when they cease pumping,
so that any animal which may arrive late may not be deprived
of its drink.
We have now only to ride along the shore for another
300 yards to arrive at the commissariat stores on the left of
the bunder, from which we started. Here everything is
excellently arranged and managed. The great piles of stores
are covered with tarpaulins and old sails to keep off the rain;
and as it was impossible to procure stones to form a foundation
for the sacks, and to keep them clear of the damp,
broken-up packing-cases were laid down first on the sand,
then empty sacks, and then bales of hay from Bombay, which
is much more bulky and less valuable than the compressed
hay from England. No damage of any great extent can
therefore ensue from the heaviest flood. There are two very
large wooden stores, in which articles readily damageable by
rain are housed; and there are two very large framework
buildings erected, which only require the corrugated iron-plates.
Nearly opposite the commissariat a long wooden jetty is
in course of erection. It is already completed for a considerable
distance; but the water is so shallow, that it will
have to be carried very much further out before boats can
come alongside to load.
We have now completed our circular ride round the
camp; and I must leave the camps and dépôts lying in the
interior of the circle until another occasion, for I have not
yet touched upon the immediate news of the day.
General Napier landed yesterday morning at half-past
seven. A guard of honour of the 4th regiment was drawn
up at the end of the pier, and the various generals here, with
their staffs, and the heads of the different departments, received
him. I had heard that he was going to land earlier,
and went down to the waterside just at daylight.
Everything was quiet then, and not a breath of wind
ruffled the water. Presently there was a sign of life in the
men-of-war, the Octavia, Serapis, and Argus. Men began
to climb the rigging, and to fasten man-lines above the
yards. Then they came down again, and all was quiet on
board the men-of-war; but the merchant-vessels were now
making a move, and the native boats were putting off towards
the ships they were told off to discharge. In the mean time
the guard of honour and the officers took their places at the
head of the bunder. Now a signal is run up to the mast-head
of the Octavia, and, as if by magic, a crowd of white
figures leap up the shrouds of the men-of-war, and run out
upon the yards. Another minute of silence, and then a boat
with an awning pulls out from the after-side of the Octavia,
and a few seconds afterwards the thunder of her guns tells
us that the Chief of the invading army has left the ship.
Three minutes later the little guns of the mountain train
proclaim that he has landed; the band strikes up God save
the Queen,
the troops salute, and Sir Robert Napier has
taken command of the forces here.
After all, this is more a ceremony than a reality, for the
General has been ashore examining into all that was going on
every day since he came into harbour. There is a great
feeling of satisfaction at his arrival, as, in the first place,
he is a most popular chief, and in the next, nothing definite
could be decided upon as to the movements of troops or on
the plan of the campaign until he arrived. The on dit now
is that no more troops will be sent forward at present, but
that the whole efforts of the transport corps and commissariat
will be devoted to accumulating a six months’ stock of
provisions at Senafe. The 33d have already gone on; but it
is now probable that no other regiment will move for another
fortnight.
We have at last authentic news from the interior. A
letter has arrived from the prisoners, dated Dec. 15th (I can
hardly understand how, at the Shoho rate of travelling, it can
have come so fast), in which they report that the King of
Shoa, who was besieging Magdala, and upon whose assistance
Colonel Merewether had built much, has retired from before
the place, and that it is now open to Theodore. This is certainly
bad news. Not that I have ever put the smallest trust
in the assistance of any of these kinglings. On the contrary,
I think that the policy which has been hitherto pursued with
respect to the natives has been a mistake. We should have
never asked for alliance or friendship. We are perfectly
strong enough to go on by ourselves, and were we not it is
certain that we could place no reliance upon any professions
of friendship. Why, then, make the natives think we are
weak by asking for allies? Say firmly to each king, We
are going on through your country to fetch the prisoners
beyond. We are perfectly strong enough to do this, and
anything beside which may be necessary. We go through
and return without making any stay. In your country are
many kings and many rivals. We need no assistance, and
we know that if we enter into alliance with one chief we gain
the enmity of another by so doing. We wish not, therefore,
to enter into any alliance whatever. We are friends passing
through your country. We require stores, cattle, &c., and
we mean to have them; but we pay for everything we require,
and that at prices which the imagination of the herd-and
flock-owner of Abyssinia never before conceived even in
his wildest dreams.
There are numerous rumours current in camp that the
chiefs are forming an alliance against us, and that they intend
to put their forces in motion to attack us. But of all
this I cannot say that I believe one word. Nor do I consider
it a matter of importance one way or another, for if they do
come they will go away again at a vastly greater rate of speed
than they advance, and will be very much more civil afterwards.
After the landing of the Chief yesterday I went on
board the Gomta, which has brought in nineteen elephants
from Bombay, in charge of Captain Annesley, of the Land
Transport Train. They all arrived in excellent condition,
having been perfectly well during the whole voyage, except
for two days, when there was a strong wind, which made
them very unhappy. The debarkation was to begin directly
the Commander-in-chief had landed. Accordingly, a party
of sailors and marines came on board from the Octavia. The
tackle had been already fixed, and the barge was alongside.
It had been at first proposed that the animals should have
been lowered over the ship’s side into the water, and allowed
to swim ashore; but the difficulty in relieving them of the
slings would have been so great that it was determined, at
any rate, to make the experiment with the barge. The
animals were down in the hold, which was amply high
enough even for the largest of them. They were ranged
along on either side, with strong beams between each. They
could lie down or stand up as they pleased. The operation
of landing them was superintended by Captain Annesley,
and by one of the officers of the Octavia. Large blocks
were attached to the mainyard, which was strengthened by
extra stays. One of the animals who was in the stall immediately
under the hatchway was selected for the first experiment.
The first difficulty consisted in getting the sling
which was of the strongest canvas, with strong ropes along
each side, under him. It was laid down upon the ground,
and the mahout endeavoured to back the animal over it.
Again and again he got him into the right position, but
the instant the sailors pulled to the cords to lift up the sling
the elephant made a rush forward. At last Sergeant Evans,
who is one of the first-class inspectors in the transport train,
succeeded in getting the sling under him in his stall, and then
getting on his back, backed him under the blocks, the sailors
keeping the sling in its place until they could get the hooks
fast. Even then all was not finished, for the alarmed
elephant continued trumpeting, and endeavouring to rush
back to his stall. Sergeant Evans managed to get the
breast- and hind-ropes fast, and then all that remained was
for the men on deck to work the capstan. The fife struck
up, and the elephant, protesting strongly but uselessly, was
gradually lifted off his feet. Once in the air the great beast’s
strength was useless, and he swung an inert mass, except that
as he went through the hatchway he got his hind-feet against
it, and pushed with so much force, that it was feared for an
instant that he would push himself head foremost out of the
slings. In another minute, however, he rose above the hatchway,
and was now beyond the possibility of doing himself or
anyone else any harm. Up he rose, higher and higher, and
then he was swung clear of the bulwarks, and lowered down
into the barge. Here his mahout and attendant received him,
stroked his trunk, and soothed him, and he allowed his slings
to be taken off quietly, and stood quite tranquil until two more
of his companions were raised from the hold and lowered to
his side. Thus far nothing could be more satisfactory. Some
of the others who landed later in the day gave more trouble,
and had it not been for Sergeant Evans there would have been
very great difficulty with them; but he is, without exception,
the most resolute and fearless fellow I ever saw at work.
Had it not been for him it is questionable whether the
elephants would have been got on board at Bombay on the
day fixed for their embarkation, and he was raised from the
position of a third-class to that of a first-class inspector on
the spot for his gallantry.
When these animals were on the barge it was determined
to disembark them before lowering others down, in order to see
whether they would walk on to the pier. A steam launch
accordingly took the barge in tow, and steamed away to the
landing-place. These little steam launches are the most
handy and useful things here; no matter how large the barge
or how long the string of laden boats, one of these little craft
seizes upon it and rushes off with it without the slightest
difficulty. On arriving at the wharf I saw at once that we
should have a difficulty. The naval authorities who had
charge of the landing had entirely disregarded the nature
and instincts of the animals; and every child who has ever
read anything at all about an elephant has heard that these
clumsy-looking animals can get up and down the most difficult
places, but that they have an invincible objection to
trusting themselves upon any platform or bridge, and can
only be induced to do so after many experiments as to its
strength. The barge was nearly four feet above the level of
the pier, and as the sides of the latter slanted somewhat, the
side of the barge was distant about a foot from the jetty. But
an elephant would have got down this as easily as a man
would have done. Instead of allowing him to do this, some
rails which had been landed for the line were put from the
shore to the barge, the gangway used by the mules placed
upon this, and the elephants were required to walk down.
They naturally objected, especially as they were not allowed
to pause and examine it, but were urged to walk straight on.
This they refused pointblank to do, in spite of the efforts of
the mahout, and the shoving and striking of the attendants
behind them. They would not advance, but lay down to express
their determination. At last one of them, on being forced
close to the gangway, kneeled down, and with his head gave
the whole structure a push which moved it several inches.
He then stood up and walked away, having proved to his
own satisfaction that we must be fools to expect an animal
his size to walk along such a rickety structure as that. Still
the heads of the debarkation were loth to give up their favourite
idea of a platform. The gangway was taken away,
and the marines and sailors brought rails and laid them tier
on tier, gridiron-fashion, and placed the gangway on that;
and thus having formed a sort of step or platform two feet
high, they invited the elephants to step on to it. Again the
elephants positively declined, and everything was again tried
except patience, the one thing needed. Fortunately, just as
the naval authorities were variously discussing the necessity
of again slinging the animals and lowering them into the sea,
to walk ashore, Captain Moore, interpreter to the Commander-in-chief,
appeared upon the scene. At his suggestion the
animals were allowed to approach quietly and to kneel down
and inspect and try the structure upon which they were to
trust themselves; and in another quarter of an hour they
were all three safely landed.
An order of the day appeared yesterday thanking the
pioneer force and Colonel Field at Senafe for their efforts.
There are many remarks down here upon the fact that while
the officers and men who marched up to Senafe, and have
passed a comparatively quiet and pleasant time up there, have
been thanked, there should be no word of praise for the men
who have been working almost night and day down here. If
any praise was to be given, it has certainly been earned by
the men who have borne the heat and burden of the bad
times at Zulla. This morning the mountain-guns, made at
Woolwich, were out for practice. These guns have been fully
described in the columns of the English press, I need not
therefore enter into any details. The practice with shell was
very fair, the little guns throwing the shell, which are nearly
half their own length, with great precision, at 2000 yards.
They appeared to me, however, to throw rather to the right.
The troops were also out at exercise, and an order has been
issued that all the regiments shall go for a march out every
morning. This is as it should be: it will keep the men in
health, and prepare them, to a certain extent, for the hard
work they will probably have to go through when they once
start.
Zulla, January 19th.
This has been a week altogether barren of events. No
move of any kind has been made, or is at all likely to be
made, for another fortnight at the very earliest. The transport
train is exclusively employed in taking provisions to the
front, and this is a very tedious process. The mules and
ponies carry nominally a burden of two hundred pounds
each, the camels four hundred pounds; but there are very
few indeed of the former capable of bearing their proper
burden, and I think I may say not one of the latter. Were
an attempt to be made to load them to their full weight, the
result would be that one-third of the animals at least would
break down in the first two miles. A great number of animals
are in hospital; but a vastly-greater proportion are still
able to perform a certain amount of work, but nothing like
their full quota. These are afflicted with coughs and lung-affections,
which will, sooner or later, bring them into hospital,
and thence to their graves, the victims of overwork,
when in a weakened state, from irregular and scanty supplies
of food and water. The transport train is at present so
essentially the corps upon which the movements of the army
depend, that it will not be out of place if I explain at some
little length the constitution and duties of the corps and its
officers. The transport train is commanded by Major Warden,
and is divided into fourteen divisions, each of which,
when complete, contains two thousand animals and twelve
hundred men, including drivers, farriers and smiths, saddlers,
&c. Each division is commanded by a captain, who has two
subalterns. He has four inspectors or sergeant-majors, two
second-class inspectors, sergeants; five third-class inspectors,
corporals—all European soldiers. He also has two second
inspectors and five third inspectors—natives; and one hundred
native soldiers, who are supposed to act as assistants.
It will be seen that each division is as strong as three
cavalry regiments; it is composed entirely of drivers collected
hastily from all parts, Egyptians, Arabs, Italians,
Greeks, Hindoos, &c.—all men without the smallest conception
of military discipline; and to manage this vast body of
men and animals there are a captain and two officers, and
eleven white noncommissioned officers. Were each division
stationary, or did it move in a body together, the task would
be comparatively easy; but it is scattered over the pass, in
convoys of from 200 down to little parties of twos and fours,
with officers’ baggage. The rules which have been drawn up
for the regulation of the corps are admirable on paper, but
utterly impracticable on service. Each native soldier is supposed
to have control over twelve drivers and twenty-five
mules, and is himself amenable to a head muccadum, or
fourth inspector, he to a third, the third to the second, &c.
Each man in charge of a squad is to see that every animal
brought in from duty is groomed, has the feet picked and
cleaned, the provender put before him, the back well sponged
with hot water.
The saddles will invariably, when taken
off the animals, be placed upside down to dry, pads towards
the sun, and afterwards neatly piled up with the equipments
affixed to each, in rear of each squad, dressing from the right
of the line.
All these, and many similar rules, are admirable
in theory; utterly impracticable in the field. A convoy
arrives late at night. Its first task is to unload, and then to
place food before the animals, and to water them if water is
attainable; then drivers and animals lie down alike exhausted,
and grooming, picking feet, and arranging equipments,
dressing from the right, are alike unheeded. The
officers of this corps have an almost impossible amount of
work to get through. They are supposed to see their animals
watered, to parade those which have to start, to see them fed,
to see them groomed, to examine their backs, to see that the
numerous convoys start at the right time, to look after the
polyglot variety of drivers, most of them speaking Arabic,
and other unknown tongues. Then they have to look after
the native soldiers, to send in reports innumerable, and to
keep office-books; they have to perform quartermaster duties
and paymaster duties; they have the pay-sheets, family-payment
rolls, returns of stores, equipments, defaulter-sheets, &c.
to make out with their own hands, unless they take one of
the few European inspectors from his work to act as clerk.
They are further responsible for the good order and condition
of the cattle, and the due preservation and completeness
of their equipments, and must see that each individual soldier,
noncommissioned officer and inspector, does his work.
In
addition to all this, at present they have to be on the pier,
seeing the animals landed, and to inspect the putting together
and fittings of the saddles and equipments, and the issue of
warm clothing to the drivers.
This is a slight sketch of the duties which these three
officers have to perform for 2000 animals and 1200 men,
with half-a-dozen European noncommissioned officers to
assist them. The inspectors, too, have been in many cases
selected by the officers commanding regiments, without the
slightest reference to their acquirements. Very many of
them can hardly speak a word of Hindoostanee, and are of
course perfectly useless. All this greatly augments the
labour and difficulty of the officer. To say that these last
are at work from morning to night is nothing. It is one
incessant round of toil, from five in the morning till seven at
night, and then reports and accounts. If the officers could
but do their work their own way, each for his own division,
they would do it—roughly perhaps, but effectually; but it is
this constant demand for reports, and the changes which are
constantly being made in the arrangements, which make the
work far too much to be got through. The great mistake
which was committed was the sending any Hindoo inspectors
and soldiers unless all, or at any rate the greater part, of the
drivers had been also Hindoo. Hindoo drivers would have
obeyed Hindoo inspectors and soldiers; the Arabs and Egyptians,
who form the great proportion of the drivers, laugh in
their faces. A Hindoo, too, is not an inventive man—give
him his orders, be quite sure that he understands them, and
he will carry them out as long as all goes straight; but he is
a very helpless man if things go wrong. These mule-drivers
are the most utterly reckless of men. If a mule breaks down,
they leave him and his load upon the road. If one breaks
down in a narrow spot they will be a good hour before they
come to the resolution to pull him out of the way and continue
their journey. If a cart-wheel gives out, there it may
lie. If an animal has a sore back, or has the disease, or any
other malady, it will never occur to them to say a word about
it until he falls helpless. Altogether, the drivers of the train
are a very reckless lot, who essentially want looking after.
The pay offered to the inspectors of the different classes is
very good, and there would have been no difficulty in obtaining
volunteers from English regiments throughout India, it
being of course made a sine quâ non that they should have
had some colloquial knowledge of Hindoostanee. There
should have been at least fifty to each division, and then no
convoy of over twenty mules would ever have gone out
without a European to look after them. If one of the animals
had been ill or lame the inspector would report it; if
a mule dropped he would see that the burden was divided
among the others; if a wheel had broken he would make
some shift or other to patch it up. He should have carried
side-arms, and would have seen that the animals kept together
without straggling, and would have prevented any
looting on the part of the natives. In fact, he would have
saved his pay twenty times over. It is this utter recklessness
on the part of the drivers which has contributed largely to the
great mortality among the animals. They will work the poor
beasts with the most terrific sore backs, until in their agony
they can go no further; then they will turn them loose and
steal another from the lines, so that the veterinary surgeons
only find out that animals are ill when they are utterly beyond
work. Were sore backs, lameness, and disease only
reported at the right time, a few days’ rest and a little care
would set most of the animals up; now, frequently the first
intimation is received from someone who, riding along, has
seen the poor beast lying down by the roadside dying.
There has been great discontent excited among these
hard-worked officers of the transport train—some of whom
have been at work in Egypt or India since August last;
others of whom have borne the brunt of the worst time
here—at the introduction of a number of other officers over
their heads. The corps was constituted as a corps some
months since, and the officers have been placed according
to their regimental rank. According to all rule and precedent,
every officer gazetted to the corps after that would
hold rank—that is, local rank—according to the date of his
gazetting into the corps. Instead of this, they have been
placed according to their date of commission as captain,
consequently the whole of the captains who have been at
work here from the landing of the expedition—who have
borne the toil and anxiety from the first—find two or three
officers placed over their heads, and, in fact, if this procedure
continue, will at the end of the campaign be six
or seven lower on the list than they were before. This
is the more inexcusable, as fourteen divisions were to be
formed, and fourteen captains were gazetted, thus making
the corps complete; and each man hoped, and had a
right to expect, to have a division. Indeed, at first even
the authorities recognised this; and these captains, who
wished to come out to Abyssinia, but could obtain no
other appointment, were gazetted as subalterns in the transport
train; and as this was subsequent to the gazette forming
the corps, it was naturally supposed by the other officers
that they came in as junior of that rank. When, however,
the first vacancy occurred in the captains, instead of the
senior lieutenant obtaining promotion as he expected, one
of these captain-subalterns was promoted to the vacancy;
and, as he was an old captain, he actually not only jumped
over the heads of all the subalterns, but over those of every
captain who was here when he landed, and thus become
second in command of the transport train. Since then
other appointments have been made, and the original captains
at present find themselves going gradually down instead
of rising in their corps. This, after such work as they
have gone through, is not a little hard, and is, I believe,
quite without precedent in the service.
The arrangements for the position of the divisions have
been so frequently altered during the past fortnight that I
am quite unable to say where they are now posted. It was
originally arranged by Captain Twentyman—at the time
he was in command—that each division should have one
station, and pass the stores from station to station. This
was afterwards entirely altered, and it was ordered that each
division should work from Koomaylo up to Senafe, and a
captain was sent up to send the animals down for the purpose.
Forty-eight hours afterwards another captain was
despatched to entirely countermand these orders, and to make
perfectly fresh arrangements, and these again have been
altered during the last day or two. I need not say that
these constant and needless changes add very greatly to the
difficulties with which the officers of the train have to struggle.
At present the stores from here to Koomaylo are carried
by camels, and thence taken up by mules, oxen, and
ponies from station to station.
Strangely enough, the through system, as it was called—that
is, the sending animals right on for days with the same
loads—was persevered in to the very end of the campaign,
although it could be mathematically proved that the relay
system was in every respect greatly superior. Captain Ellis,
of the transport train, sent in a table to the authorities, which
proved conclusively that the same number of mules would
carry one-sixth more goods in a given time by the relay
system than by the through.
But the other advantages
were even greater; an officer stationed at any given place
had the men and animals of his division always under his eye.
He would get to know both man and beast; he would soon
find out which men did their work and which failed in it.
The drivers and mules would each have its allotted place, and
an infinity of confusion would be avoided; the arrangements
for drawing forage for the animals, and food for the men, for
cooking, &c. would have all been simple and practicable.
Indeed, in every single respect, the relay system possesses
immense advantages. It could not, of course, have been
adopted beyond Antalo, but the saving of labour and life, the
increase of efficiency, regularity, and discipline, from its introduction
between Zulla and Antalo, would have been
enormous.
I am unable to say how many animals are at present at
work—probably nine or ten thousand, and this number, devoted
entirely to the conveyance of commissariat stores as
they are at present, would carry really large amounts forward,
were it not that they carry their own forage, and were
they of proper strength; but unfortunately a very large number
of them have lung-disease, brought on by insufficient and
irregular water and food. The number in hospital is terrible.
There are at present about 700 mules and 700 camels in hospital,
and the deaths are over 200 a-week. This is a terrible
mortality; but were all the others in good working order, it
would matter comparatively little; the worst is, that very
many are poorly, and will fill the hospital ranks far quicker
than death or discharge empty them. There are nominally ten
veterinary surgeons to the force under Veterinary Surgeon
Lamb, an officer of great experience; only five of the ten
have arrived, and these are terribly overworked, as they have
no staff, and have to inspect, prescribe, and administer medicines
themselves. No time should be lost in filling up the
ranks of the veterinary surgeons, and in giving them assistance,
for when the numbers are complete they will have at
least 100 such animals each to attend to, and these not trifling
cases, but terrible sore backs, the last stages of lung-disease,
and the local plague. The authorities appear to have thought
the lives of the native drivers, officers, and non-commissioned
officers, of no consequence whatever, for although there will
be 280 Europeans and 18,000 native drivers when the corps
is complete, there is not a single surgeon appointed for them!
And this although the great part of the force will be stationed
at small stations along the road, at which there will be no
troops whatever, and of course no medical officer. The men
are very liable to broken limbs and injuries from the kicks
of the animals, and to illness from hardship and exposure;
and yet to this numerous body of men, nearly equalling in
number the whole of the rest of the expedition, there has not
been a single medical man appointed!
The animals which appear to support the hard work and
irregular food with the least deterioration are the bullocks.
Of these a very small number indeed have been ill, and the
deaths amount to only one or two weekly. They look in really
good condition, and perform their work admirably. Indeed,
the greater part of the mules and ponies look in fair condition,
and they have certainly no lack of food, except at the
up-stations. Very great credit is due to the commissariat
department, who have done very well, and against whom one
never hears a complaint. Since the first landing they have
had an abundance of stores for the men; and no instance has,
as far as I have heard, occurred of men being unable to obtain
their proper rations. The Commander-in-chief is making
every effort to strengthen the transport train, and has gazetted
a number of unattached subalterns for it. He has also, I
believe, applied to the native regiments here for volunteers for
that corps; among the subalterns, I hear, there have been
few, if any, answers in the affirmative. I understand that
the European regiments have also been applied to for volunteers
among the noncommissioned officers and men, to act as
inspectors in the train. Among these, as among the officers,
I hear the appeal has not been responded to. The work of
the train is tremendously hard; and men fancy, and perhaps
with reason, that they have less chance of going forward to
the front in the train than they would have in their own regiments.
There would have been no difficulty originally in obtaining
any number of men from the regiments not coming to
Abyssinia, as men would have volunteered for the very reason
that makes the men here refuse to do so—namely, that they
wished to see the war; in addition to which, as I have said,
the pay in the train is really very good.
But, after all, what is most required by the transport train
is a commanding officer of far higher rank than a major. The
transport train is, as I have shown, a collection of fourteen
divisions, each as numerous as three cavalry regiments, the
whole equalling in men alone the rest of the expedition. To
command this immense corps a brigadier-general of energy
and standing should have been selected—a man who would
see the work done, and at the same time insist on being allowed
to carry out his plans in his own way, without interference
from others. As it is, everyone has advice to offer
to the transport train, and, while throwing the blame of
everything that goes wrong upon their shoulders, men do
little to assist them; think nothing of sending for transport
animals, and then keep them waiting for hours; start at
times which render it impossible that the animals can be
watered; send in their requisitions at all sorts of odd times;
and, in fact, show no regard whatever for anything but their
personal convenience. Major Warden does his best, and
works indefatigably; but it requires an officer of much higher
rank and of great firmness and decision. The present would
be a great chance for an officer to make himself a name. To
have successfully managed so enormous a corps as the transport
train under such extreme difficulties as have already,
and will in future visit it, would be a feather in the cap of
the most distinguished officer.
It is a moot question, whether it would not have been far
better to have done here as in India—namely, to put the
transport train under the commissariat; and the overwhelming
majority of opinion is, that this would have been
a very preferable course. In the first place, the commissariat
have no responsibility whatever. They have simply
to hand over at Zulla so many thousand bags of rice, sugar,
biscuit, &c., and to say to them, Deliver them in certain
proportions at such and such stations along the road.
This
done, their responsibility ceases. If there is a deficiency anywhere,
they have only to say, We handed over the stores
at Zulla in ample time, and if they have not arrived it is no
fault of ours.
I cannot but think that it would be far better
for the commissariat to have a transport train of their own.
In India they have proved over and over again that they are
capable of carrying out their transport arrangements admirably.
During the mutiny there was hardly a case occurred
where the commissariat did not manage to have the food up
ready for the men at the end of the day’s march. For the
conveyance of military stores and baggage, the transport
train should be perfectly distinct from that of the commissariat.
So many mules and drivers should be told off to each
regiment, and that regiment should be responsible for them.
One of the officers and a sergeant or two would be told off to
look after them, and see that they were properly fed, watered,
and looked after. The transport-train officer with the division
would be in charge of spare mules, and exchange them when
required for regimental mules which might have fallen sick
by the way; in addition to which, a certain proportion of
spare mules for casualties might be handed to each regiment.
In case of a halt of a few days only, the mules would remain
in charge of the troops; but if the halt were likely to be prolonged,
the mules would be handed over to the transport
officer, and by him used to assist the commissariat, or upon
any duty for which they might be required.This regimental arrangement was carried out during the latter part
of the march to Magdala, and was found to answer extremely well.
The elephants have been handed over to the commissariat
train. They walk backwards and forwards between this place
and Koomaylo, and take large quantities of stores forward.
The natives are never tired of watching the huge beasts at
their work, and wondering at their obedience to us. This
astonishes them, indeed, more than anything they have seen
of us, with the exception of our condensing water from the
sea. One of them was speaking the other day to an officer,
who is thoroughly acquainted with Arabic. You say you
are Christians,
the Shoho said; this cannot be, for you
wear no blue cords round your necks. You are sons of
Sheitan. You are more powerful than the afrits of old.
They could move mountains, and fly across the air, but they
could never drink from the sea, they could never change
salt-water into fresh. You must be sons of Sheitan.
No troops have gone forward this week, with the exception
of two companies of the 25th Native Infantry, who have
gone out to Koomaylo to furnish guards and fatigue-parties
there. No troops have landed, with the exception of considerable
numbers of the Scinde Horse. I was anxious to see
this regiment, which I have seen highly praised in books, but
which Indian officers with whom I have conversed on the
subject have generally spoken of in terms the reverse of
complimentary. I confess that their appearance is not imposing.
The men are dressed in long green frock-coats,
green trousers, black belts, and sabretasches, red sash round
waist, and red turban. A picturesque uniform in itself; but
the long coat has a clumsy effect on horseback. Their horses
are, without exception, the very ugliest set of animals I ever
set eyes on. A greater contrast between these men and horses
and the smart 3d Cavalry at Senafe could hardly be conceived;
and yet the men individually are a fine set of fellows, indeed
are almost too heavy for cavalry. The great point which has
always been urged in favour of the Scinde Horse is, that they
carry their own baggage, and are independent of commissariat
or transport train. This is, of course, a most valuable quality;
and in India, where forage and provisions are purchased
readily enough, it is probable that the regiment may be able
to move about to a great extent on its own resources. Here
it is altogether different, and the regiment have indented
upon the transport train for just as many baggage-animals
as other cavalry corps would require. The only use of the
herds of ponies which they have brought with them is, to
carry very large kits for the men’s use—a matter of no advantage
whatever to the public service, and, on the contrary,
involving great expense, as these ponies were brought from
India at the public expense, and have now to be fed and
watered. I shall probably have to return to this subject
during the campaign, as this system is one which has been
strongly advocated and as strongly attacked among Indian
officers. The railway continues to creep forward, and the
first engine made a trial trip to-day upon it. Although there
is little more to do than to lay the sleepers into the sand and
to affix the rails, there is at present only a mile complete.
One dry watercourse has been crossed, and here iron girders
have been laid; but these nullahs should be no obstacle whatever
to the progress of the work, as parties ought to be sent
forward to get the little bridges, or any small cuttings there
may be, finished in readiness, so that no pause may be occasioned
in the laying the line. The country, with the exception
of these little dry watercourses, which are from three
to five feet deep, is perfectly flat; and the railway might, at
any rate, be temporarily laid down with great ease and rapidity,
especially with such a number of men as are employed
upon it. As the work is being carried on at present without
either method or plan or judgment, it is impossible even to
predict when it will be finished to Koomaylo.
It is a great pity that the matter was not put into the
hands of a regular railway contractor, who would have
brought his plant, gangers, and plate-layers from England,
viâ Egypt, in three weeks from the date of signing the contract,
and who would, with native labour, have had the line
open to Koomaylo, if not to Sooro, ere this. I am not
blaming the engineer officers who are in charge of the railway.
They exert themselves to the utmost, and have no
assistance in the way of practical gangers and platelayers,
and have neither tools nor conveniences of any kind. Indeed,
the actual laying down of a line can hardly be considered
engineers’ work. An engineer makes the surveys
and plans, and sees that the bridges, &c., are built of proper
materials; but he is not a professed railway-maker, and is
ill-calculated to direct a number of natives, who neither understand
his language nor have a conception of what he is
aiming at. It needed a body of thorough navvies, a couple
of hundred strong, such as we had in the Crimea, to show
the natives what to do, and to do the platelaying and skilled
portion of the work themselves. When I say the railway
has been, and will be, of no use to the advancing expedition,
I of course except the line of rails down upon the pier and up
to the stores, as this has been of the very greatest utility.My anticipations with regard to the railway were more than realised;
for the last two miles of the railway to Koomaylo were not made at the
termination of the expedition, and the portion which was completed was,
without exception, the roughest, most shaky, and most dangerous piece of
railway ever laid down. It is to be hoped that upon any future occasion a
contractor will be employed instead of an engineer officer, who cannot have
either the requisite knowledge or experience.
The photographing party are up the pass, and have executed
some excellent views of the gorge. The engineers
have succeeded in sinking pumps at Guinea-fowl Plain,
or, as it is now called, Undel Wells, and have got a plentiful
supply of good water. This is most important and
gratifying news. The journey from Sooro to Rayray
Guddy, thirty miles, without water, was the trying part
of the journey forward, and if the animals could speak not
a few of them would lay their illnesses to that long and
distressing journey. It is true that there was generally a
little water to be had at the old well, but this was so deep
and so difficult to get at, that, although a party of three or
four animals could be watered there, it was quite impossible
that a largo convoy could be watered. Now a large dépôt of
provisions and forage will be established there, and the journey
will henceforth be divided into five day’s marches, of
nearly equal length. Fresh animals arrive here every day,
and the amount of stores of every description which is poured
on shore is really surprising. Nothing could work better or
more evenly than do all the departments here. There is no
confusion of any sort, and the issue of rations and stores, and
the general arrangements, work as smoothly as at Aldershot.
The military bands play morning and evening, and all is as
quiet and according to rule as if we had been six months and
intended to stay six months more upon this plain, twenty-four
hours’ sojourn upon which was declared by our prophets of
evil to be fatal to a European. The only thing in which we
differ from a stationary camp is that there are no parades.
Everyone is at work upon fatigue-duty. Every available
man is ordered off to some work or other, and as we have
with pioneers, coolies, hired natives, and soldiers, four or five
thousand men here, we really ought to make considerable
progress with our railway, which is now the only work of
importance, with the exception of the wooden commissariat
jetty, and the never-ending task of receiving and landing
stores. Up to three days ago there was a piece of work in
progress which was a great joke in camp. I mentioned in a
former letter that the commissariat stores having been flooded,
the engineers built a dam which was intended to keep out
the sea, but which on the first heavy rain kept in the water
and caused a fresh-water flood instead of a salt one. Colonel
Wilkins then resolved upon a work on a large scale; on so
large a scale, indeed, that there were reports through the
camp that he had determined on raising the whole African
coast three feet,
while others more moderate denied the exactness
of this, and said that he was merely seized with a
desire to show the Bombay people how reclamations from the
sea ought to be carried out.
The last report was nearer to
the truth than the first, for his intention was to raise the
shore from one jetty to another, a distance of about 400 yards,
the shore to be raised being thirty or forty yards in width,
and needing three feet of additional height at the very least.
The material to be used was sand. Accordingly, about a
thousand men worked for a week with baskets at what their
officers called mudlarking, and had not the sea fortunately
interposed, they might have worked for another six months
longer, with the certain result that the very first time a high
tide, accompanied by wind, set in the work would altogether
disappear; sand having—as most children who have built
castles upon the Ramsgate sands are perfectly aware—an
awkward knack of melting away when beaten upon by the
sea. Fortunately, before more was done than making a sort
of bank next to the sea, and when the labour of filling the
whole shore behind this to the same level began to be apparent
even to the most obstinate, the sea rose, came over the dam,
covered the low ground behind three feet deep, entered the
commissariat stores, and, as it could not escape, did considerably
more damage than it would have done had the shore remained
as it was before the labour of a thousand men for a
week was expended upon it.
The rainy season, like most other things connected with
Abyssinia, has turned out a myth. It was to have come in
November, then it was postponed to December, then the 1st
of January was named as the latest time, and yet, with the
exception of one heavy shower, we have had no rain whatever.
The dust is blowing again in perfect clouds. We
taste it in all we eat and in all we drink. Grit is perpetually
between our teeth. As for our hair, what with sea-bathing
and what with dust it is approaching fast to the appearance
of a hedgehog’s back. Were it not for the evening
bathe I do not know how we should get on. A great improvement
has been effected in this respect during the last
ten days. The end of the pier is now kept for officers only,
the rest being devoted to the men. This is a great boon, and
makes the end of the pier quite a pleasant place of assembly
of an evening. Everyone is there, and everyone knows everyone
else, so that it forms the grand rendezvous of the day.
Our meeting-room is the sea, our toilet strict undress. I
only wish that the water we use internally were as pleasant
as the salt-water is for bathing, but the fact is, it is almost
undrinkable. Why it is so no one seems to know; but there
is no question as to the fact. It is extremely salt, and has a
strong earthy taste in addition, and occasionally a disagreeable
smell. Why it should be salt I know not, but can only
suppose that the condensers are worked too hard, and that
salt-water goes over with the steam. The earthy flavour and
unpleasant smell which it sometimes has I attribute to the
fact that the water which comes on shore from the ships must
be bad. I have smelt exactly the same odour in water on
board ship. The bad taste is so strong that it cannot be disguised
or overpowered by the strongest admixture of spirits.
By far the best water here is made by the condenser at the
head of the pier, and this is served out to the European regiments,
who are camped rather nearer to it than the native
regiments are. Filters remove to a certain extent the earthy
taste, but they do not alter the saline. A more serious matter
even than the badness of the water is the fact that the supply
has several times within the last ten days been insufficient,
and hundreds of animals have had to go to their work in the
morning, or to their beds at night, without a drop of water.
It is this which lays the foundation of the lung-diseases, fills
our hospitals with sick animals, to say nothing of the suffering
caused to them. When the Scinde Horse, with their numerous
baggage-animals, have moved forward, it is to be hoped
that the naval authorities will be able to supply a sufficiency
of drinkable water for the rest of the camp. The party of
engineers have just begun a work which, when completed,
will enable a much larger amount of stores to be landed daily
than can at present be accomplished. They are driving piles
so as to lengthen the pier some twenty or thirty yards, and
to form a pier-head, on all sides of which lighters and boats
can lie alongside to unload instead of only at one side, as at
present. The commissariat wharf is also making considerable
progress, and when this and the new pier-head are completed,
the amount of stores which can be daily landed will be
very large. As it is, it is wonderful what immense quantities
of stores are landed and sent up the pier in the trucks
by the commissariat, quartermaster, transport train, and
engineer departments. Many hands make light work, and
there is abundance of labour here, and a boat comes alongside,
and its contents are emptied and placed upon a railway-truck
in a very few minutes. Were a double line laid down
the pier—which was specially built for it—and two or three
connections or crossings laid down, so that full trucks could
go out, and empty ones come in without waiting for each
other, the capacity of the pier would be vastly greater than
it is. Why this is not done no one seems to know. With
the abundance of labour at hand it might be made in a day
without interfering with the working of the present line. A
great improvement has taken place in the conveyance of the
post between this and Senafe. Ponies are in readiness at
the various stations, and the mails are taken up in two days.
Things are in fact getting into order in all the branches of
the service, and with the exception of the water-supply and the
ridiculously-slow progress of the railway, there is little to be
wished for. The Punjaub Pioneers, whose arrival I mentioned
in my last letter, are an uncommonly fine body of men.
Their loose cotton dress and dark claret-brown turbans, and
their picks and shovels slung across their shoulders, in addition
to their arms and accoutrements, give them the appearance
of a corps ready for any work; and this they have quite
borne out. They have brought a number of ponies with them,
and are fit for any service. The corps which have thus far
arrived from Bengal and Madras have certainly done very
great credit to these Presidencies, and make it a matter of
regret that Bombay should have endeavoured to keep as far
as possible the monopoly of an immense expedition like the
present in her own hands. The Lahore division of the
mule-train arrived here in the most perfect order. The saddles,
accoutrements, &c., arrived with the mules, together with the
proper complement of drivers, complete with warm clothing,
&c. This division were therefore ready to take their load
and to march up the very day after their landing, without
the slightest confusion or delay. Of course the animals from
Egypt and the Mediterranean could not arrive in this state
of order, but there was no reason whatever why the Bombay
division should not have arrived in a state of complete efficiency,
instead of the animals coming by one ship, the drivers
in another, the officers and inspectors in a third, and the accoutrements
and clothing scattered over a whole fleet. Madras,
too, has done well, although her contingent is a very small
one. The Madras Sappers and Miners have greatly distinguished
themselves, and the Madras dhoolie corps, which was
raised and organised by Captain Smith, of the commissariat,
has turned out of the very greatest utility. They have worked
admirably, and have been quite willing to do any work to
which they were set, however foreign it might be to the purpose
for which they were engaged. Numbers of them have
been transferred to the transport train; and, indeed, so useful
has the corps proved, that orders have been sent to Madras
for another of equal strength.
We had quite a pretty sight here the other night. The
Pacha on board the Turkish frigate, which with two small
consorts is lying in the harbour, invited Sir Robert Napier
and the other generals, with their respective staffs, and the
commanding officers of regiments and departments, to dinner.
The frigate was illuminated with hundreds of lanterns hung
along her shrouds and yards. The dinner was spread on the
quarter-deck, which had awnings both roof and sides, so that
it formed a perfect tent. The dinner was very good, and the
fittings and ornaments of the table admirable. The sight, to
men who had been for the last month eating off pewter and
drinking out of tin cups, of a pile of porcelain plates, which
were evidently some of Minton’s or Copeland’s best work,
would be almost tantalising, and the dinner was enjoyed
proportionately to its being so exceptional a circumstance.
There was no making of speeches or drinking of healths, but
the men-of-war and other boats as they left the frigate with
their guests gave a hearty cheer to the Pacha for his hospitality.
There is still a great want of boats in the harbour,
and it is most difficult to get out to a ship to see a friend or
to buy stores. Many of the ships are not unloading, and the
men have nothing to do. It would be an excellent plan to
authorise some of these vessels to send boats to shore to ply
for hire, at a regular tariff. The men would like it, as they
would gain good pay, and it would be a great boon to us on
shore.
There is no news from the front, with the exception of
that brought in just as the last mail was leaving, namely,
that Theodore was moving towards Magdala, and that the
Waagshum with his army was watching him. As Waagshum
had neither the force nor the courage to hold the passes
between Debra Tabor and Magdala—which, according to all
accounts, a hundred men might easily hold against a thousand
similarly armed—I do not think that the news that he was
watching Theodore was of any more importance than if it
had been a troop of baboons are watching Theodore.
I
have not the least faith in these barbarian allies of ours.
They will do nothing, and will demand great presents for
it. Except that it amuses our political agent,
I do not
see that the slightest possible utility can come from these
native chiefs. The only king of any real importance is
the King of Tigre, upon whose territory we are already encamped
at Senafe. I hear that the purport of the message
brought in by the ambassador or envoy who arrived before
Christmas was to request that an envoy might be sent to him
to enter into negotiations, and to arrange for a meeting between
himself and the Commander-in-chief. In consequence,
Major Grant, of Nile celebrity, goes forward to-morrow,
with Mr. Munzinger, our consul at Massowah, who acts as
political adviser and interpreter. They will, I understand,
go on from Senafe with a small guard of eight or ten cavalry.
They will call upon the King of Tigre as official envoys, and
will assure him of our friendship, and inform him that Sir
Robert Napier is anxious to see him, and will meet him at
Attegrat in a short time. I have now finished the news of
the week, with the exception only of an adventure which
befell Captain Pottinger, of the quartermaster’s department.
He was ordered to reconnoitre the passes leading from Senafe
down to the head of Annesley Bay. He started with
eight men, and had proceeded about forty miles when he was
met by a party of armed Shohos, 100 strong. They ordered
him to return to Senafe under pain of an instant attack. Of
course Captain Pottinger, with his eight men, would have
had no difficulty in defeating the 100 Shohos, but had blood
been shed serious complications might have ensued, and he
very wisely determined that it would be better to retire, as
his mission was not one of extreme importance. This little
affair is of itself of no consequence, but is worth notice as
being the first time since our arrival here that the natives
have in any way interfered with an armed force, however
small. In my next letter I hope to be able to speak of at
least a probability of a forward movement.
Zulla, January 22d.
Only three days have elapsed since I last wrote to you,
but those three days have completely changed the prospects
of things here. Then a move forward appeared to be an
event which, we hoped, might happen somewhere in the dim
future, but which, with the reports that provisions were
scarcely accumulating at Senafe, but were being consumed
as fast as they were taken up, seemed a very distant matter
indeed. Now all this is changed, and forward
is the cry.
The 25th Native Infantry are already on the move, the 4th,
King’s Own,
are to go in a day or two, and the 3d Native
Infantry are to follow as soon as possible. Sir Robert
Napier goes up to-morrow or next day. Whether he will
remain up there, and go forward at once, or whether he will
return here again for a short time, is a moot point. I incline
to the former opinion. From what I hear, and from what I
see in the English papers, pressure is being strongly applied
to Sir Robert Napier to move forward. Now, with the
greatest deference for the home authorities and for the leader-writers
upon the London press, I submit that they are forming
opinions upon matters on which no one who has not
visited this place is competent to judge. No one, I repeat,
can form any opinion of the difficulties with which the Commander-in-chief
has to contend here. The first want is the
want of water, the second the want of forage, the third the
want of transport. Twenty-eight thousand animals were to
have been here by the end of December; not more than half
that number have arrived, and of the 12,000 which have been
landed 2000 are dead, and another 2000 unfit for work. The
remainder are doing quite as much as could be expected of
them, and are working well and smoothly; but 8000 are not
sufficient to convey the provisions and stores of an army up
seventy miles, and to carry their own forage as well. That
is, they might convey quite sufficient for their supply from
day to day, but they cannot accumulate sufficient provisions
for the onward journey. The difficulties are simply overwhelming,
and I do not know of a position of greater responsibility
than that of Sir Robert Napier at the present moment.
If he keeps the troops down here upon the plain, the increasing
heat may at any moment produce an epidemic; and, in
addition to this, the English public will ferment with indignation.
On the other hand, if he pushes on with a few
thousand men, he does so at enormous risk. He may take
any number of laden animals with them; but if we get, as in
all probability we shall get, into a country where for days no
forage is obtainable, what is to become of the animals? It
is not the enemy we fear—the enemy is contemptible; it is
the distance, and the questions of provisions and transport.
If a column goes on, it cuts itself loose from its base. With
the exception of the laden animals, which start with it, it can
receive no supplies whatever from the rear; it must be self-supporting.
When Sherman left Atalanta he travelled through
one of the most fertile countries in the world. We, on the
contrary, go through one series of ravines and passes, and
although there are many intervening places where we may
count upon buying cattle, it is by no means certain that we
can procure forage sufficient to last the animals across the
next sterile pass. Altogether, it is a most difficult business,
and one where the wisest would hesitate upon giving any
opinion as to the best course to be pursued. I am sure General
Napier will push forward if he sees any chance of a
favourable issue; and if he does not, he will remain where he
is in spite of any impatient criticism on the part of those who
cannot guess at one tithe of his difficulties. Since writing
the above I have received reliable information that the wing
of the 33d will move forward to Antalo (a hundred miles in
advance) in a few days. This is palpable evidence that at
any rate we are going to feel our way forward. Personally
I need not say how pleased I am, for living with the thermometer
from 104° to 112°, in a tent, and surrounded and
covered with a fine dust, existence can scarcely be called a
pleasure here.
Sir Robert Napier is making great efforts to reduce the
weight to be carried forward, and in this he is, without doubt,
highly to be commended. The great curse of this army is its
enormous number of followers. European regiments have
quite a little host of sweepers, Lascars, water-bearers, &c. &c.
Even the native regiments have a number of followers. Had
English troops direct from England been employed, the
weight to be carried would have been very much less than
it is at present, and the men, being accustomed to shift and
work for themselves, would have been more handy. It is
said that the soldier’s kit, now very heavy, is to be reduced;
but at present the efforts are being directed almost exclusively
against officers. An officer, whatever his rank, is to
be allowed one mule only, and there is some rumour that
even that allowance is to be reduced. I do not hesitate to
say that that amount is insufficient. If an officer had his
mule merely to carry his baggage it would be ample, but this
is very far from being the case. On it he has to carry his
groom’s luggage and warm clothes, and those of his body-servant.
He has to carry his cooking-utensils, &c., and the
rugs, &c., for his horse; consequently he will be lucky if
forty or fifty pounds remains for his own kit. This is not a
campaign for a week or a month; it may, in all human probability
will, last for a year, perhaps longer, and he has to
carry clothes, bedding, &c., for a hot and a cold climate. It
is simply impossible to do this in the limits of fifty pounds.
Regimental officers are ordered to send back their servants to
Bombay, only one to be kept for every three officers. Of
course such officers will be able to get most of the work they
require performed for them by their own men; but, at the
same time, it is a hardship both to officers and servants. In
all cases an officer has made an advance of from two to three
months’ pay to his servants; in all cases he has provided them
with warm clothing; and it is very hard that he should lose
all this, and be obliged to turn servants, whom he may have
had for years, adrift at a moment’s notice.
Senafe, January 31st.
After the heat and dust of Zulla this place is delightful.
The heat of the day is tempered by a cool wind, and the
really cold nights brace us up thoroughly. Above all, we
have no dust. We are clean. One has to stop for a month
upon the Plain of Zulla thoroughly to appreciate the pleasure
of feeling clean. Here, too, there is water—not only to
drink, but to wash in. After being dust-grimed and unable
to wash, the sensation of being free from dust and enabled
to wash at pleasure is delightful. Having with great
difficulty succeeded in purchasing baggage-animals, I started
early from Zulla, and arrived at Koomaylo in plenty of time
to be able to examine the wonderful changes which have
taken place there in the last three weeks. There were then
some hundreds of animals there; now there are thousands.
The lines of the mules and ponies extend in every direction;
besides which are bullocks, camels, and elephants. Koomaylo
is indeed the head-quarters of the transport-train animals.
The camel divisions are here. They go down to the
landing-place one day, are fed there, and come back loaded
next day, getting their water only here. The elephants
work in the same way, but they have to be watered at each
end of their journey. The bullock division is here, and
works upwards to Rayray Guddy, three days’ march, taking
up stores and bringing down Senafe grass when there is
any to spare. Four mule and pony divisions are here;
these, like the bullocks, work to Rayray Guddy and back.
The sick animals of these six divisions are also here, and
number nearly twelve hundred, including camels. The watering
of all these animals morning and evening is a most
interesting sight. There are long troughs, into which water
is pumped continuously from the little American pumps.
The different animals have each their allotted troughs. As
they arrive they are formed in lines, and as one line has
drunk the next advances. There is no bustle or confusion,
for there is an ample supply of water for all. The water is
very clear and good, but is quite warm, and most of the
animals object to it the first time of tasting. Although the
mules are in better condition than they were some time since,
very many of them are still very weak, especially those that
have been stationed at Rayray Guddy, where they get
nothing to eat but the coarse Senafe hay, and have had very
frequently to go without even this. The greatest difficulty
of the transport train at present is most unquestionably in
its drivers. The greater part were, as I have before said,
collected haphazard from the scum of Smyrna, Beyrout,
Alexandria, Cairo, and Suez. They are entirely without
any idea of discipline, are perfectly reckless as to the Government
stores, and are brutally cruel to their animals.
By cruel, I do not mean actively cruel, but passively cruel.
They do not thrash their mules much, they are too indifferent
to the pace at which they travel to put themselves
to the trouble of hurrying them. But they are horribly
cruel in a passive way. They will continue to work their
animals with the most terrible sore backs. They will never
take the trouble to loosen the chain which forms part of the
Bombay headgear, and which, unless it is carefully watched,
will cut into the flesh under the chin, and in hundreds of
cases has done so. They will jerk at the rein of their draught-mules
until the clumsy bit raises terrible swellings in the
mouth; they will say no word about the ailments of their
beasts until they can absolutely go no single step further, and
then, instead of taking them to the hospital lines, they turn
them adrift, and report upon their arrival at night that the
mules have died upon the way. There is, however, far less
of this going on now than formerly, for a mounted inspector
accompanies each train, and many of the large convoys have
officers in charge of them. But not only for their cruelty
and carelessness are these Egyptian, Levant, and Turk
drivers objectionable; they are constantly mutinous. I saw
the other day at Zulla a party of fifty who had arrived a
few days before deliberately refuse to work. They did not
like the place, and they would go back. Everything was
tried with them; they were kept upon less than half rations
and water for days, but they sturdily refused to do anything.
The whole party might of course have been flogged, but that
would not have made them work; and the first day that
they went out with mules they would have thrown their burdens
off and deserted with their animals. I was present
when Colonel Holland, director-general of transport, endeavoured
to persuade them to work. They steadily refused,
and even when he promised that they should be sent back
to Suez by the first ship, they refused to do any work whatever
until the time for embarkation. As they stood in a
circle round him, some gesticulating, but most standing in
surly obstinacy, I thought I had never seen such a collection
of thorough ruffians in my life—the picked scoundrels of the
most lawless population on earth. I stopped one day at
Koomaylo, and then came rapidly up the pass. The road
is now really a very fair road for the whole distance, with
the exception of four miles between Koomaylo and lower
Sooro. This piece of road has not, by some strange oversight,
been yet touched; but I hear that the 25th Native
Infantry, one wing of which regiment is at Koomaylo, are
to be set to work at it at once. It is along the flat of
the valley, and only requires smoothing, and removing boulders,
so that a few days will see this, the last piece of the
road, completed. For the rest of the distance the road
is everywhere as good as a bye-road in an out-of-the-way
district at home. In many places it is very much better.
Up the passes at Sooro and Rayray Guddy it is really an
excellent road. The vast boulders, which I described upon
the occasion of my first passing through it, are either
shattered to pieces by blasting, or are surmounted by the road
being raised by a gradual incline. Too much praise cannot
be given to the Bombay Sappers and Miners, who have
carried out these works. The same party, after finishing
these passes, have now just completed a broad zigzag road
from the bottom of the pass up to the Senafe plain. This
was before the most trying part of the whole journey, now
it is a road up which one might drive in a carriage and pair,
and which reminds one of the last zigzags upon the summits
of the Mount Cenis and St. Gothard passes. The whole of
the works I have described are at once samples of skilful
engineering and of unremitting exertion. No one who passed
through six weeks ago would have believed that so much
could possibly be effected in so short a time. Next only to
the Bombay Sappers credit must be given to the Beloochee
regiment, one wing of which under Major Beville at Sooro,
and the other under Captain Hogg at Rayray Guddy, have
made the road along those places where blasting was not
required.
The Beloochees are a remarkably fine regiment, and work
with a willingness and good-will which are beyond praise.
Great regret is expressed on all sides that they have not been
selected to accompany the 33d regiment upon its advance,
especially as they are armed with Enfield rifles.
The Beloochees are deservedly one of the most popular
regiments in the Indian service, and there is an esprit de
corps—a feeling of personal attachment between men and
officers, and a pride on the part of the latter to belong to so
good a regiment—which the present extraordinary and unsatisfactory
state of the Indian service renders altogether out
of the question in the regular native regiments. There an
officer forms no part of the regiment. He belongs to it for
the time being, but if he goes home for leave, he will upon
his return be posted in all probability to some other regiment.
In this way all esprit de corps, all traces of mutual good feeling
between men and officers, is entirely done away with.
How such a system could ever have been devised, and how,
once devised, it has ever been allowed to continue, is one of
those extraordinary things which no civilian, and no military
man under the rank of colonel, can understand.
At the station of Sooro and Rayray Guddy little change
has been effected since I last described them, and about the
same number of men are stationed there; but at Undel Wells,
or Guinea-fowl Plain, as it was formerly called, the place was
changed beyond all recognition. When last I was there it
was a quiet valley, with a few Shohos watering their cattle
at a scanty and dirty well. My own party was the only
evidence of the British expedition. Now this was all changed.
No city in the days of the gold-mining rush in Australia ever
sprung into existence more suddenly. Here are long lines
of transport-animals, here are commissariat-tents and stores,
here a camp of the pioneers. The whole of the trees and
brushwood have been cleared away. Here is the watering-place,
with its troughs for animals and its tubs for men—the
one supplied by one of Bastier’s chain-pumps, a gigantic
specimen of which used to pour out a cataract of water for
the delectation of the visitors to the Paris Exhibition—the
other by one of the little American pumps. Everything
works as quietly and easily as if the age of the station was
to be counted by months instead of by days.
I found that the telegraph is making rapid progress. The
wire now works as far as Sooro, and is also erected
downwards from Senafe to Rayray Guddy. It is a very fine
copper wire, and in the midst of the lofty perpendicular rocks
of the Sooro Pass it looks, as it goes in long stretches from
angle to angle, with the sun shining bright upon it, like the
glistening thread of some great spider.
It would have been long since laid to Senafe, but the
greatest difficulty has occurred in obtaining poles, all those
sent from Bombay having been thrown overboard to lighten
the vessel in which they were shipped upon an occasion of
her running aground. It has been found impossible to procure
the poles for the remaining distance; and I hear that a
wire coated with india-rubber is to be laid a few inches under
the soil.
Senafe itself is but little altered. The 10th Native Infantry
are still in their old camp. The 3d Native Cavalry
have gone out about eight miles from here to a spot called
Goose Plain, and the sappers and miners are encamped in
the old lines of the 3d. The 33d lines are in a plain close
to, but a little beyond, the old camp, and concealed from
view until one has passed it.
On my arrival in camp I found that a deep gloom hung
over everyone, and I heard the sad news that Colonel Dunn,
the commanding officer of the 33d, had the day before accidentally
shot himself when out shooting. The native servant
who alone was with him reports that he himself was at the
moment stooping to pour out some water, that he heard the
report of a gun, and turning round saw his master stagger
back, and then sink into a sitting position with the blood
streaming from his breast. The man instantly ran back to
camp, a distance of five miles, for assistance, and surgeons at
once galloped off with bandages, &c., followed by dhoolie
wallahs, with a dhoolie to carry him back to camp. When
the surgeons arrived, they found Colonel Dunn lying on his
back, dead. His flask was open by his side, his cap pulled
over his face. He had bled to death in a few minutes after
the accident. It is supposed that the gun was at full cock,
and that the slight jar of putting the butt to the ground must
have let the hammer down. There are very few men who
could have been less spared than Colonel Dunn; none more
deeply regretted. As an officer he was one of the most rising
men in the service, and had he lived would probably have
gained its highest honours and position. He was with the
11th Hussars in the Balaclava charge, and when the men
were asked to select the man who in the whole regiment was
most worthy of the Victoria Cross, they unanimously named
Lieutenant Dunn. Never was the Victoria Cross placed on
the breast of a more gallant soldier. When the 100th regiment
was raised in Canada, he enrolled a very large number
of men, and was gazetted its major. After attaining the rank
of lieutenant-colonel he exchanged into the 33d, of which,
at the time of this sad accident, he was full colonel, and was
next on the list for his brigadier-generalship. He was only
thirty-five years of age, the youngest colonel in the British
service, and would, in all human probability, have been a
brigadier-general before he was thirty-six. Known as a
dashing officer, distinguished for his personal bravery, a
colonel at an age when other men are captains, there was no
rank or position in the army which he might not have confidently
been predicted to attain, and his loss is a loss to the
whole British army. But not less than as a soldier, do all who
knew poor Dunn regret him as a man. He was the most
popular of officers. Unassuming, frank, kind-hearted in the
extreme, a delightful companion, and a warm friend—none
met him who were not irresistibly attracted by him. He
was a man essentially to be loved. In his regiment his loss
is irreparable, and as they stood beside his lonely grave at
the foot of the rock of Senafe, it is no disgrace to their manhood
to say that there were few dry eyes amongst either
officers or men. He was buried, in accordance with a wish
he had once expressed, in his uniform, and Wolfe’s lines on
the burial of Sir John Moore will apply almost word for
word to the grave where our hero we buried.
Sir Robert Napier arrived here with his personal staff the
day before yesterday, having been five days en route, spending
one day carefully examining each station, inquiring, as
is his custom, into every detail, and seeing how each department
worked. Never was a commander more careful in this
inquiry into every detail than is Sir Robert Napier. Nothing
escapes him. He sees everything, hears what everyone has
to say, and then decides firmly upon what is to be done.
The army have rightly an unbounded confidence in him.
He is essentially the man for an expedition of this sort. His
reputation for dash and gallantry is well known, but at the
same time he has a prudence and sagacity which will fit him
for the extremely difficult position in which he is placed. If
it is possible to make a dash into Central Abyssinia, undoubtedly
he will do it; if, on the other hand, it cannot be
done without extraordinary risk and difficulty—if it is next
to impossible—no amount of outcry at home will drive him
to attempt it.
It is believed here that, moved by the home authorities, a
rapid dash is on the point of being made, and bets are freely
exchanged that the expedition will be over by the 1st of
April. For myself, I confess that even in the face of the
approaching advance of the first division I have no anticipations
whatever that such will be the case. Sir Robert, I
believe, does mean to try. Urged on to instant action from
home, he will despatch two or three regiments, with cavalry
and artillery, and with the lightest possible baggage. But if
the country at all resembles that we have already traversed,
if it is one tithe as difficult and deficient in food and forage as
Abyssinian travellers have told us, I am convinced that the
column will have to come to a halt, and wait for supplies, and
will have to proceed in a regular military way. I hope that
I may be mistaken; I sincerely hope that the advancing
column may meet with no insuperable obstacles; but, remembering
that it is by no means certain that when we get
to Magdala we shall find Theodore and the captives there, I
am far more inclined to name nine months than three as the
probable time which will elapse before we have attained the
objects of our expedition,—that is, always supposing that
Theodore does not deliver up the captives as we advance. It
is quite certain that the advancing column must depend entirely
upon themselves. They will be able to receive no supplies
from the rear, for other regiments will take the place of
those that go on from Senafe, and the transport train cannot
do much more than keep Senafe supplied with provisions at
present, even supplemented as their efforts are by those of
thousands of the little native cattle. Indeed, had it not been
for the quantity of stores brought up by the natives on their
own cattle, there would not have been sufficient stores at
Senafe to have supplied the troops who now move on. As
some 1500 animals will be withdrawn from the strength of
the transport train to march with the advance brigade, it is
evident that the stores sent up for some time will not be much
more than sufficient to supply Senafe, and that no animals
will be available to send on fresh supply to the front. The
brigade that advances, then, must depend entirely upon itself.
It must not hope for any assistance whatever. To say the
least, it is an expedition upon the like of which few bodies of
men ever started. We have 330 miles to go, across a country
known to be exceptionally mountainous and difficult. We
have already learned that, with the exception of cattle, the
country will provide us with no food whatever. The kings
or chiefs through whose territory we march will be but
neutral, and even if actively friendly, which they certainly
are not, could afford us no practical assistance. To crown
all, it may be that towards the end of the march we may have
to fight our way through difficult passes, defended by men
who, if ill-armed, are at least warlike and brave. History
hardly records an instance of such an accumulation of difficulties.
Pizarro’s conquest of Mexico, perhaps, ranks foremost
among enterprises of this sort, but Pizarro fought his
way through the richest country in the world, and could
never have had difficulties as to his supplies. There is no
question about our conquering—the great question is as to
our eating. If we were always certain of finding forage our
difficulties would be light in comparison. Unfortunately our
mules must eat as well as we, and we know that we shall
have long passes where no forage whatever is procurable. If
the mules were certain of their food it would be a mere arithmetical
question—how many mules are required to convey
food for 2500 men for forty days? As it stands now, we
have no data to go upon, and whether our present advance
succeeds or not is almost entirely dependent upon whether we
can obtain forage for our animals. If we can do this, we
shall get to Magdala; but if we find that we have to pass
long distances without forage, it becomes an impossibility,
and we must fall back upon the regular military method of
forming dépôts and moving on stage by stage. In this latter
case there is no predicting the probable limit of the expedition.
General Napier is taking the most stringent but necessary
steps for reducing the baggage to a minimum. No
officer, whatever his rank, is to be allowed more than one
mule. Three officers are to sleep in each bell-tent, and one
mule is allowed for two bell-tents. One mule is allowed
to each three officers for cooking-utensils and mess-stores.
Only one native servant is to be allowed for each three
officers. No officers, except those entitled to horses in England,
are to be mounted; they may, however, if they choose,
take their own horse as a pack-animal instead of the mule
to which they are entitled, in which case a pack-saddle will
be issued to them. Similar reductions are being made
among the regimental baggage and followers. The latter,
whose name was legion, and who were at least as numerous
as the fighting-men, are to be greatly curtailed. The Lascars,
sweepers, water-bearers, &c. are either to be sent back,
or to be turned into grass-cutters for the cavalry and baggage-animals.
The European soldiers are to be limited to
35lb. weight of baggage, and part of this they will have to
carry for themselves. All this is as it should be. In India
it is policy as well as humanity to take every possible care
of the British soldier. He is a very expensive machine, and
although, as was found during the mutiny, he can work
in the sun during an emergency without his health
suffering, still at ordinary times it is far better to relieve him as
far as possible from all duties whatever save drill and guard.
Labour and food are so cheap in India that the expense of
this host of camp-followers is comparatively slight. Here
it is altogether different. It was known long before we
started that the ground would be exceptionally difficult, that
the difficulties of transport would be enormous, and that every
mouth extra to be fed was of consequence; and yet in spite
of this the European regiments arrived here with little short
of 500 followers; and the native regiments have also hosts
of hangers-on. As I have said, all this is now very properly
to be done away with. The army will march as nearly as
possible with European kit and following, and the transport
train will be relieved of the incubus of thousands of
useless mouths to be provided for. In speaking of the transport
train, I should mention that Sir Robert Napier is in
no way accountable for its absurd organisation and consequent
break down. The Bombay authorities are alone responsible.
When the expedition was first seriously talked
of in August last, Sir Robert Napier drew up a scheme for
a transport train, which I am assured by those who have
seen it was excellent. This he sent in on the 23d of August.
No notice was taken of it until the middle of September,
when Sir Robert was told that a scheme would be prepared
by the commissary-general. Another precious month elapsed,
and then in the middle of October the present absurd scheme
was hatched. It was sent to Sir Robert for his opinion, and
he returned it with the memorandum that it was perfectly
impracticable. The authorities persisted, however, in the
teeth of his opinion, in having their plan carried out; and
it was only upon Sir Robert’s repeated and earnest
remonstrances that they consented to increase the number of European
inspectors and native overlookers to the present ridiculously-insufficient
number. The result has abundantly proved
the wisdom of the General, and the fatuity of the men who
would interfere in every detail, and overrule the opinion of
the man to whom everything was to be intrusted from the
day of his leaving Bombay. Events have abundantly proved
the error of intrusting the management of the expedition
to civilians and men of bureaux.
And now, as to the advance brigade. Neither its composition
nor its date of advance are yet known for certain. The
Chief is not a man who says anything about his plans until
the moment arrives when the necessary orders are to be given.
It will probably comprise the whole or part of the 33d regiment,
the 4th regiment—a portion of which is expected to
arrive here to-day—the 10th Native Infantry, the Beloochees,
the Punjaub Pioneers, the Bombay Sappers and Miners, the
3d Native Cavalry, and the Scinde Horse. Of these, two
companies of the 33d regiment, and two of the 10th Native
Infantry, are already at Attegrat, thirty-five miles in advance.
Three more companies of each regiment started to-day.
Brigadier-general Collings goes on with them, and
will for the present command the advance. Part of the
Pioneers are here, as are the Bombay Sappers. These go
on in a day or two to make the road near and beyond Attegrat,
the intermediate part having been already made by the
33d regiment. The Scinde Horse are some eight or nine
miles away, and near them are the 3d Native Cavalry. I
have omitted in my list of troops for the advance brigade to
name the mountain trains, and three guns of the artillery,
which will be carried by elephants. These animals are
expected here in a day or two. I should be sorry to meet them
on horseback in a narrow part of the pass, and I expect that
they will cause terrible confusion among the transport-animals,
for they have all a perfect horror of the elephant—that
is, the first time that they see one. When they get to learn
that he, like themselves, is a subjugated animal, they cease
to feel any terror of him.
There is one pleasing change which has taken place since
I last left Senafe, and which I have not yet spoken of. I
mentioned that Sir Charles Staveley, when he was up here,
ordered huts to be built for the muleteers by the 10th Native
Infantry. These are now completed. They are long, leafy
bowers, running along in regular lines between the rows of
animals. They are very well and neatly built—so regular,
indeed, that it is difficult at a short distance to believe that
they are really built of boughs. They may not be as warm
as houses, but they keep off the wind, and afford a great
protection to the muleteers at night. The division here, that
of Captain Griffiths, is the first which landed. It is now in
very good order, and will accompany the advance brigade.
The disease up here is, I am happy to say, on the decrease.
The sick animals are out at Goose Plain with the artillery.
Yesterday, in the afternoon, there was a parade of the
33d, and 10th Native Infantry; small parties of the Royal
Engineers, of 3d Native Cavalry, and of Scinde Horse were
also present. Sir Robert Napier rode along the line, and
the regiments then marched past. The little party of the
3d Cavalry came first, followed by the Scinde Horse, and
offering as strong a contrast to each other as could be well
imagined. The one was upon the European, the other upon
the Asiatic model. The Scinde horsemen were much the
heavier and more powerful men; and although they have not
the military seat or the dashing air of the 3d, they had in
their dark dresses, and quiet, determined look, the appearance
of men who would be most formidable antagonists.
Their horses, although ugly, are strong; and in a charge,
it was the opinion of many of those who were looking on,
that they would be much more than a match for their more
showy rivals. The Scinde Horse are more discussed than
any regiment out here; and, indeed, it is so famous a
regiment, and is always stationed so much upon the frontiers,
that its coming was looked forward to with considerable
curiosity. Its appearance is certainly against it; that
is, its horses are very ugly animals; but this is not the
fault of the regiment, for its station is so far in Northern
India that it cannot procure, except at very great cost, any
but the native horses. I believe that this is almost the only
objection which can be urged against the regiment; the men
are remarkably fine; indeed, as I before stated, they are too
heavy for cavalry. They are, as a whole, drawn from a
much higher and wealthier class of natives than the men of
any other regiment; they enlist in the Scinde Horse just as
a young nobleman takes a commission in the Guards. There
is a very great feeling of esprit de corps, and mutual good-feeling
between officers and men; and all are proud of their
regiment. The uniform, as I have said in a previous letter,
is a long, dark-green coat, with red turban. It is the men’s
own choice, and is quite an Eastern uniform; their long
curved sabres are also quite Asiatic. The men provide their
own carriage; and from this point the transport train will
not be called upon to assist them in any way beyond carrying
their provisions. I alluded before to the wretched ponies
they brought with them; but the case has been explained to
me, and there is no blame to be attached to the corps on this
score. The men were provided with camels to carry their
baggage, and were told that these would do for Abyssinia.
While upon their march down to the sea-coast a telegram
arrived, stating that camels would not do; and the men
were obliged to sell their camels at a sacrifice, and to buy
any ponies they could get. I speak of the men doing so,
because the horses, &c., are not the property of the Government,
but of the men, or rather of some among the men.
The Scinde Horse are, and always were, an irregular
cavalry, upon what is called the sillidar
system. Government
contracts with the men to find their own horses, accoutrements,
arms, food, and carriage. This is the irregular
cavalry system, upon which all native cavalry regiments are
now placed. The sum paid is thirty rupees a month. Here,
however, only twenty rupees are to be paid, as Government
finds food and forage. The advantages of this system for
frontier-work are enormous. The men are scattered over a
wide extent of country in tens and twelves, and it would be
manifestly impossible to have a series of commissariat stations
to supply them. Whether the system is a good one for regiments
stationed for months or years in a large garrison town
is a very moot question, and one upon which there is an immense
difference of opinion. These regiments would have
no occasion for carriage. If they had to move to another
town, it would be cheaper for them to send their baggage in
carts than to keep up a sufficient baggage-train. When,
therefore, the order to march on service comes, there are no
means of transport. The 3d Native Cavalry are exactly a
case in point. Four years ago they were changed from a
regular to an irregular cavalry regiment; but, like all regiments,
the 3d had its traditions, and stuck to them. They
adhere to their old uniform and equipments, and are, at a
short distance, undistinguishable from a European hussar
regiment. They pay extreme attention to their drill, and
are to all intents and purposes a regular cavalry. They are
mounted on excellent horses, and are certainly wonderfully-cheap
soldiers at three pounds a month, including everything.
But they have been long stationed at Poonah, and consequently
had no occasion to purchase baggage-animals, and
came on here without them. When it was found that the
regiment had arrived here without baggage-animals, there
was, of course, considerable angry feeling in the official mind;
and had it not been that the animals were dying in the plain,
and that no other cavalry regiment was at hand to go up with
the advance brigade, it is probable that they would have
been kept in the rear of the army. However, they were
badly wanted, and so carriage was given to them. I have
already spoken in the highest terms of their bearing and
efficiency. There is one point, however, in the sillidar system
which strikes me as being particularly objectionable. It
is not always with the men themselves that this contract is
made; it is with the native officers. Some of the men do
supply their own horses, &c.; but the native officers each
contract to supply so many men and horses complete, buying
the horses and accoutrements, and paying the men ten
rupees a month. This, I cannot help thinking, is an unmixed
evil. The man has two masters—the man who pays
him, and the Government he serves. This evil was carried
to a great extent in the days before the mutiny; and I have
heard a case of a regiment at that time of which almost the
whole of the horses and men were then owned by one native
officer. Had that man been hostile to the Government, he
might have taken off the whole regiment. Efforts have since
been made to put a stop to this excessive contracting, and no
officer is now allowed to own more than six of the horses.
It appears to me that it should be altogether done away with,
and that each man should find his own horse.
But I have wandered very far away from the parade-ground
at Senafe. After marching past the regiments formed
in close order, the General then addressed a few words to
each. To Major Pritchard of the Engineers he said how
glad he was to have his own corps with him again, and that
he hoped some day to employ them to blow down the gates
of Magdala. To the 33d he said a few words complimenting
them upon their efficiency, and regretting that they
would not be led by the gallant officer whose loss he and
they deplored. The General then addressed the 10th Native
Infantry, complimenting them upon their conduct and
efficiency. Sir Robert spoke in Hindoostanee, a language
of which my knowledge is unfortunately confined to about
eight words; none of these occurred in the speech, and
I am therefore unable to give the text. The regiments
which go on are delighted at the prospect of a move, and
the 10th Native Infantry cheered lustily as they marched
off with their band at their head. Fresh troops arrive as
fast as others move on. While I have been writing this a
portion of the 4th King’s Own have marched in, as also
have the mule-battery with the light rifled guns from Woolwich.
The most important, however, of to-day’s arrivals has
been that of a hundred bullock-carts. A string of camels has
also come in, as I can tell by the lugubrious bellowings and
roar which at present fills the air. The pass is therefore
proved to be practicable, and the camels and bullock-carts
will be a great assistance to us. The natives must be astonished
at seeing this string of carts coming up a place which
all their tradition must represent as almost impassable even
for their own cattle, which, like goats, can go almost anywhere.
Their ideas about us must altogether be rather
curious; and as we know by experience how a story expands
and alters as it goes, the reports which must reach
the extreme confines of Abyssinia must be something astounding.
Even here they are not contented with the facts.
There is a report among them that the cattle we are buying
up are intended to be food for a train of elephants we have
coming to help us fight Theodore, and that we have also a
lion-train, which will shortly be here. Our news from Magdala
is as before. Theodore is slowly, very slowly advancing.
He has got heavy cannon, and insists upon taking them with
him. Waagshum, the king who has been besieging Magdala,
has fairly run away, and the tribes around Magdala
have all sent in their allegiance to Theodore. Theodore has
been writing to Rassam as if he were his dearest friend, and
Rassam has been answering him as if he were Theodore’s
grovelling slave. Theodore’s letter runs in this style: How
are you? Are you well? I am quite well. Fear not. I am
coming to your assistance. Keep up your head. I shall soon
be with you. I have two big cannon. They are terrible, but
very heavy to move.
Rassam answers somewhat in this
style: Illustrious and most clement of potentates, I, your
lowest of slaves, rejoice at the thought that your coming will
throw a light upon our darkness. Our hearts swell with
a great joy;
and more fulsome stuff of the same character.
Dr. Blanc’s letters to us are at once spirited and manly.
We are delighted,
he says, at the thought of your
coming. How it will end no one can say. We are all prepared
for the worst; but we have at least the satisfaction of
knowing that our deaths will be avenged.
Up to the last
moment of doing this we have no day fixed for Sir Robert
Napier’s advance upon Attegrat. The 5th is named as the
earliest date upon which a messenger can return from Grant’s
party, and say when Kassa, the King of Tigre, will be at
Attegrat to meet the General. It is probable that the King
will start almost immediately Grant arrives, and in that case
Sir Robert will have to move forward at once in order to
arrive first at the place of meeting. I go on to-morrow,
unless any circumstance should occur to change my plan.
The scientific and the general members of the expedition
are arriving very fast. Dr. Markham, the geographer of the
expedition, has long been here. Mr. Holmes, of the British
Museum, arrived yesterday, as archæologist; he is going off
to-morrow to a church a few miles distant, to examine some
manuscripts said to exist there. The Dutch officers arrive
up to-day, and I hear two French officers arrive to-morrow.
In reference to these foreign officers, I am assured to-day
by a staff-officer, to whom I was regretting that more was
not done for them, that they are not really commissioners.
It may be so; but as, at any rate, they are officers who are
paid by foreign governments, and are allowed to accompany
the expedition, I confess that I am unable to see any essential
difference. The staff-officer assured me, as a proof of
the beneficent intentions of the authorities, that these foreign
officers would not be charged for their rations. John Bull is
indeed liberal. He is much more sharp as to the specials;
for a general order was actually issued the other day, saying
that gentlemen unconnected with the army were to pay
for a month’s rations in advance.
With the exception of
the scientific men, who are all sent out by Government,
and must, I suppose, be considered official persons, there are
only four gentlemen here unconnected with the army,
namely, three other special correspondents and myself. I
remarked to a commissariat-officer, with a smile, when called
upon to pay my month in advance, that I thought I might
have been considered as good for the payment at the end of
each month as officers were.
Ah,
said the astute officer,
but suppose anything were to happen to you, whom should
we look to for payment?
The reply was obvious: But,
on the other hand, suppose that unpleasant contingency
should occur, of whom are my representatives to claim the
amount for the days paid for but not eaten?
At whose
suggestion this general order was issued I know not; but I
do know that anything more paltry and more unworthy the
general order of a large army was never issued. Who issued
this order I know not, for I cannot but repeat that no one
could be more kind and considerate than are Sir Robert
Napier and every member of his staff to all of us.
I must now close my letter, for it is getting late, and my
hand is so cold I can hardly hold a pen. I may just mention
that colds are very prevalent here, and that at night
there is an amount of coughing going on among the natives
in the tents around, that is greater even than could be heard
in an English church on a raw November morning during a
dull sermon.
Senafe, February 3d.
When I closed my letter on the evening of the 31st
ultimo, I had intended to start early the next morning.
My plan was to have gone on to Attegrat, to have stopped
a day or two there, and to have returned in plenty of time
to have gone up again with Sir Robert Napier. After I had
closed my letter, however, I heard that he would probably
leave on the 5th; I should not, therefore, have had time to
carry out my plan, and determined, in consequence, to wait
here another day or two, and then to move on quietly in
advance of the General, so as to be able to devote a short
time to the examination of the country in the neighbourhood
of each of the stations. I had another course open to me.
The extreme advanced party are pushing on beyond Attegrat,
on the road to Antalo. Should I go with them, or
should I remain near head-quarters and report the regular
progress of events? It was more amusing, of course, to be
pushing on ahead; but it seemed to me that the interest of
the public lay not in the road, but in the progress of the
troops along that road. I have therefore made up my mind
to jog quietly along with the main body of the army, the
more especially as the meeting between Sir Robert Napier
and the King of Tigre will be one of the most interesting
events in the whole expedition.
Mr. Speedy has arrived in camp. He is to act as political
adviser to General Napier, and his arrival is a general
matter of satisfaction. Mr. Speedy was at one time an officer
in the 81st Foot; he afterwards exchanged into the 10th
Punjaubees, of which regiment he was some time adjutant.
He afterwards left the service and wandered out to
Abyssinia, where he entered the service of Theodore, and assisted
him to organise and drill his army. Finding he was likely
to share the fate of other British in this potentate’s employ,
and to be cast into prison, Mr. Speedy threw up his appointment,
and has since been living in Australia. General
Napier, having heard of him, wrote to beg him to come;
and Mr. Speedy received the letter just in time to come off
by the mail, with a kit, according to popular report, consisting
only of two blankets. He is not, I am happy to say,
an Abyssinian worshipper. Dr. Krapf, Colonel Merewether’s
adviser, is so. He seems to think that the black is a very
much finer specimen of humanity than the white man; and
that deeds which would be punished in the latter are highly
excusable, if not laudable, when perpetrated by the former.
Dr. Krapf is not singular in his ideas. Had his lines lain
in England, I have no doubt that he would have been one
of Governor Eyre’s foremost persecutors. I am very glad
that a healthier tone is likely to be introduced in our dealings
with the natives. Mr. Speedy rode out yesterday, at the
General’s request, to some of the villages round, called upon
the priests, and offered a present of money for the relief of
the poor and distressed. The answer in each case was the
same. The priests said that had it not been for our coming,
a period of severe distress and suffering would probably have
occurred. The crops had been devastated by the locusts, and
the present drought would seriously affect the next harvest.
Thanks, however, to the money which the English had distributed
through the country in payment for cattle purchased
by the commissariat, and for hay, wood, milk, &c., and for
the hire of transport, the people were better off than usual;
and therefore, with the exception of three or four dollars for
the aged and infirm, they would decline with thanks General
Napier’s gift.
The Engineer Corps here have been very busy for the
last few days practising signalling. The method used is
Captain Bolton’s system, which is in use in the Royal Navy.
The method in which these signals are managed on land is,
however, less known, and is specially interesting, as it is the
first time they have been used in actual warfare. The present
is, indeed, a sort of experiment; and if it prove successful
and useful, it is probable that the system will be generally
introduced into the army. The Engineers are giving lessons
in the art of signalling to soldiers of the 33d regiment, and
will teach men of each regiment out here, so that the system
may be fairly tested. The signals by day are conveyed by
flags; there are white, white-and-black, and black, according
to the alphabet or method to be used. A single wave to the
right means one; two waves, two; and so on up to five; the
remaining four numbers are made either by waves to the left
or by combination of wavings to either side. These numbers,
like the flags on board ship, refer to a number in a book with
which each signalman is furnished. Let us suppose, for
example, that a general situated upon rising ground wishes
to signal to any given division of his army. He makes
the signal, let us say, five.
The signal is passed along
by the line of signalmen to the fifth division, who all, by
waving their flags, testify readiness. The signal is then
passed, 1015.
This means, move to the support of the
fourth division,
which is instantly done without loss of time.
Or the flags may be addressed to all the corps of the army;
and the order, waved over thirty miles of country, might be,
Concentrate on the centre division.
It is, indeed,
astonishing how much time would be gained by using this method
instead of sending a score of aides-de-camp scouring all over
the country. At night the signals are conveyed by means of
flashing lights. These are extremely ingenious in their construction.
The signaller, who is always accompanied by a companion
with a signal-book, has a brass tube some eight feet
long, at the extremity of which is a lantern; in this lantern
a spirit-lamp burns; underneath this spirit-lamp is a receptacle
in which is placed a powder composed of magnesium,
resin, and lycopodium, very much like the mixture with which
stage-carpenters produce lightning by blowing it through a
candle. This lamp acts on precisely the same principle. A
bellows is attached to the brass tube. This bellows the signaller
works, either in short or in long pressures; and the
air, as it passes up, goes through the powder and forces a
small quantity of it through a pair of nozzles placed close
to the spirit-flame. The result is a brilliant flash, which is
long or short according to the pressure upon the bellows.
This light can be seen at a very great distance, and two or
three parties of signallers placed upon hill-tops could convey
an order a distance of fifty miles in a very few minutes.
The difficulty, of course, lies in the liability to error. A
single puff more or less might entirely change the order.
1021 might mean Concentrate upon your left flank;
1022
Concentrate upon your right.
It is all very well to say
that each signal is repeated, and therefore that a mistake
would be instantly corrected; but we all know what mistakes
occur in telegraphic messages, even if we pay for their being
repeated. The system appears as good and as little liable to
error as anything of the kind could be; but when we consider
that a miscounting of the flashes of light or of the
waving of a flag might entirely alter the order given, it is
evident that the risk is so great that a general would rather,
if possible, despatch a mounted officer with written instructions.
At the same time, the system for distant communication
is undoubtedly adapted to expedite the movements of
an army over a large tract of country. General Napier has
taken a great interest in the experiments, and I have no
doubt the system will be thoroughly tried during the present
expedition. The apparatus for each signalling-party is singularly
complete and handy; it is carried in two baskets or
mule-panniers, and includes everything which could be required,
comprising a light-tent, a canteen, flags, lanterns, a
supply of alcohol and powder, a small case for writing in the
rain, signal-books, &c. Each of these double panniers contains,
in fact, everything required for the signalmen; and
with twelve such apparatus, distributed among parties placed
upon hill-tops, signals might be flashed at night from London
to Edinburgh.
The elephants for the guns have not yet arrived, but are
expected to-morrow, and in that case will go on with Sir
Robert Napier; who, I believe, will positively leave in the
afternoon. As several other bodies of troops move on the
same day, it will make his entry into Attegrat quite an
imposing affair. In fact, I should not be surprised if the
sight of the elephants created quite a stampede among the
natives. Speaking of elephants, a sad accident occurred a
few days since at Sooro. These animals are to be met with
in the mountains between that place and the sea, and three
have been killed by officers of the Beloochees. Accordingly,
Major Beville and Lieutenant Edwards went out to try their
fortune, and were successful in finding a herd of them
feeding in a valley. The animals scented them before they could
get within fair shot, and began to run rapidly away; whereupon
Edwards rushed out, crossed a small intervening nullah,
and followed upon their heels. Elephants, however, are not
animals that like being followed, and accordingly one of
them turned and charged his pursuer. Edwards fired at
him, but failing to check him, took to his heels. The animal
overtook him in his descent of the nullah, seized him
in his trunk, dashed him to the ground, and endeavoured
to trample on him, but fortunately the slope of the ground
rendered this a matter of difficulty. At this critical moment
Major Beville arrived, and fired into the animal, who, most
fortunately, upon finding himself wounded, quitted his victim
and fled. Extraordinary to state, poor Edwards was not
killed; but he has received some severe internal injuries,
and is now lying at Sooro in a very precarious state.
The bullock-carts, which arrived the day before yesterday,
aroused, as I anticipated, the admiration and wonder of the
natives to the highest point. I believe that they never saw
a wheeled vehicle before; and the apparition of the long
line of carts, drawn by the splendid Brahmin cattle, coming
up laden with stores, from a defile which all their traditions
from time immemorial have represented to them as being
impracticable even for their own sure-footed little cattle,
completed their assurance that the English are truly sons
of Sheitan. Our energy and resources must indeed appear
something quite supernatural to this primitive people.
One of my principal grounds for objection to the Abyssinians
is that they are such an intensely lazy race. Now,
if people like to be lazy, and to eat the scanty bread of idleness
instead of the large loaf gained by hard work, it is
their own business, and a mere matter of taste, in favour
of which there is much to be said. But the Abyssinian,
although intensely lazy, is by no means satisfied to eat the
bread of idleness. The noble savage is keenly awake to the
value of labour, and insists that all the members of his family,
with the exception only of himself and such of his sons as may
be big enough to have their own way, work like the veriest
slaves. You will see a great lout of a man walking lazily
along towards the camp, armed with his spear and shield,
while before him stagger his old mother, his wife, his sister,
and his four or five children, carrying enormous bundles of
hay. I am not exaggerating when I say that you will frequently
see little girls not more than seven years old carrying
bundles of hay of forty-five pounds weight into camp;
and poor little mites of three or four years old carry a proportionate
burden. The weight is never carried on the head,
always upon the back, fastened by a thong of leather, which
goes over the arms just below the shoulder and across the
chest. The child or woman, as the case may be, walks bent
forward, almost double. The men never carry loads; it is
beneath the dignity of a noble savage. The whole of the
work is done by the females and by the little boys of the
family. My blood has fairly boiled many times, and I have
longed heartily to lay my riding-whip across the shoulders
of these lazy scoundrels, who are too lazy to work, but not
too proud to drive their little children to work, and to live
upon the result. The boys do, as I have said, a certain
amount. When they are quite little they do nearly as much
as their sisters, but as they grow up they do less and less,
and it is rare to see a boy over twelve years old carrying
a burden. The women here carry their babies on their backs,
and not across the hip as the Hindoostanee women always do.
The children are held in a sort of small shawl of leather,
which is wrapped tightly round the mother, and only the
top of the little thing’s head is generally to be seen. In
this way the mother has her arms free, and can carry about
her bundle of wood or grass for sale; but in this case the
burden is, of course, carried in her arms before her. I have
often wondered that the children survive the double risk—of
suffocation, from pressure against their mother’s backs, and
of sunstroke, from the sun coming down full upon the unprotected
tops of their little bald heads. They do not seem
to mind it, and I do not think that I have heard more than
one or two infants utter a wail when being carried in that
position. I can only suppose that the natural warmth of
their mothers’ naked backs is agreeable to them; but, with
our present style of dress, it is not an experiment which I
should recommend an English nurse to try with a fractious
child, unless she wishes a coroner’s inquest to be held upon
it, with possibly other more unpleasant proceedings to follow.
The stores in the commissariat-yard here continue to increase,
thanks to the amount brought up by the native cattle.
At present there is, I understand, about a month’s consumption
for the troops here and in advance. The arrangements of
the commissariat-yard are very good; as, indeed, most of the
arrangements of that department have been throughout the
expedition. At times this yard presents a most interesting
spectacle. Here are large piles of rice- and flour-bags, and
beside them the Parsees weighing out the rations to the
numerous applicants. A little farther on is the butcher’s
shop, where the meat-rations are cut up and distributed.
Here is a large enclosure fenced round with bushes, and
containing cattle purchased for the troops from the natives.
Here are some hundreds of mules unloading stores which they
have brought from below. Farther on are more being loaded
with grass, to go down for the sustenance of the animals in
the pass. Here, again, are hundreds of women and children
laden with grass, which an officer of the commissariat is
weighing and paying for; giving, however, the money to
the men; who, the instant the women have brought in the
grass, send them off, and exert themselves so far as to receive
the money. Near these is the wood-yard, where a similar
scene is being enacted. Back again by the store-yard are
a host of native cattle, which are waiting to receive stores
to take forward to Attegrat. The contract price for this
is a dollar and a half per head; and I am glad to say that
we can obtain as many cattle as we like for the purpose.
Here we have men; the only employment, indeed, which the
Abyssinian men will undertake is driving cattle, or rather
following them, for they never attempt in any way to guide
or influence their movements, but dawdle after them with
their eternal spears and shields, knowing well that the sagacious
little cattle will always follow the beaten track. Close
by is a space marked off for a market. Here we have groups
of men squatted about everywhere among their cattle, sheep,
and goats: there are a good many donkeys too, and a few
mules. For these latter they have raised the price very
greatly during the last month: then a good mule could be
bought for fifteen dollars, now they charge thirty-five and
forty. They are very independent too, and refuse to abate
a single dollar in the price they ask: if they do not obtain
the exact sum they demand, they will, after a certain time,
mount and ride off to their villages, to return again next
day with the price probably enhanced two or three dollars
over that demanded on the first occasion.
I must now close this, as I am on the point of starting for
Attegrat. I shall endeavour to send a few lines in from
Goun-Gonna, the next station; for as the next mail starts
in four days, and I shall be getting farther away every
march, a letter from Attegrat could not get in here in time
for the post.
Goun-Gonna, February 4th.
I feel quite glad to be again getting forward. Senafe
has so long been my advanced post, that it seemed as if we
were never going to get beyond that point. However, now
I am once more en route, I hope that I shall have no further
stop—beyond a few days at Attegrat, to see the meeting of
the King of Tigre and the General—until I arrive at Antalo.
Antalo will be about ten days’ march from here, and, once
there, half the distance to Magdala will have been accomplished.
My ride yesterday afternoon was one of the most
pleasant I have had here. The temperature was delightful—a
bright sun and a strong cool wind; the road, too, for some
distance, across an undulating plain, descending sharply into
a magnificent valley, was a charming change after the monotony
of the long valleys, up and down which I have been
riding for the last six weeks, and the wide expanse of the
sandy plain of Zulla. After leaving Senafe the plain falls
for some distance, and after about five miles’ ride we came
down to the lowest point, where, in ordinary times, a small
stream of water crosses the road, but which at present is
perfectly dry, except where it has accumulated in large pools.
By the side of one of these, about two miles to our left, we
saw the camp of cavalry and sick animals. I may mention,
by the way, that although the disease among the mules is
much upon the decrease, and has altogether lost the virulence
which at first characterised it, there are still, by the last
weekly statement, two thousand six hundred animals, including
camels, unfit for work, from one cause or other.
In this watered valley are immense herds of cattle. The
plain is covered with a thick coarse grass, which has now
been everywhere cut, either by the troops themselves for their
horses, or by the natives for sale to us. Crossing the plain,
we have a steep rise up the side of the hill, and then, surmounting
the rise, we find ourselves at the head of a valley
running nearly due south. This we descend; and from
the number of villages perched on the eminences on either
side, it is evident that water is generally found in this locality.
It was probably, at some not very distant time, much more
thickly populated than it is at present, for many of the villages
are ruinous and deserted. This valley is very pretty,
and, after the treeless plain of Senafe, is doubly agreeable,
for the sides of the hills are everywhere clothed with the
gigantic candelabra cactus. These are now just bursting into
blossom. The blossoms grow from the extremity of each of
the innumerable arms of the candelabra; and as their colour
varies from white, through delicate shades of pink, to dark-red,
the effect is very beautiful; indeed, with their regular
growth, and perfect mass of blossom, they look as if they had
just been transplanted from the grounds of the Messrs. Veitch
to this country for some gigantic flower-show. There is a
church in this valley, which is much venerated as being the
scene of the martyrdom of some eight or ten Christians in the
time of the persecution. My knowledge of Abyssinian history
is, I confess, of too meagre a nature for me to give you
an approximate date of this affair. Their bones are, however,
still to be seen; and from this I should say that the event
could not be very distant, as in a climate subject to great
heat and heavy rains as this is, it is probable that bones would
very speedily decay. The church is at some distance from
the road, and is, like most of the churches here, upon a hill.
I did not, therefore, turn aside to examine it, as I shall have
plenty of opportunities of examining churches hereafter, and,
with the exception of the martyrs’ bones, it presents no feature
of peculiar interest. Descending the valley, we find it
to be only a feeder of a wide valley running east and west.
The valley was, like Goose Plain, covered with coarse grass,
and contained immense herds of cattle. The side opposite to
that by which we had entered it was very steep; the mountains
are nearly bare, and near their summits present an
appearance which, had I not seen it also upon the rock at
Senafe, I should have said had been caused by a very slight
fall of snow. I learn, however, that it is a very small lichen,
which is abundant upon the rocks. I presume that this lichen
is at present in flower or seed; for I did not observe the
peculiar appearance at my first visit to Senafe, and it is so
remarkable that I could not have failed to notice it had it
existed at that time. We know now that we are near our
destination, for we see the grass-cutters going along with
great bundles of hay. We cross the valley and enter a
smaller valley, which forks at a slight angle with the large
one. As we fairly entered it, we saw near its extremity the
camp of Goun-Gonna. A prettier situation could hardly
have been selected. The hills to the right-hand are almost
perpendicular, and upon a ledge about half-way up a village
is nestled. The stream which flows down it has been used
for the purpose of irrigation, and the bright green of the
young crops was a delightful relief to our eyes. On the left-hand
the hills are less precipitous, but are still very steep.
The valley is less than a quarter of a mile in width, and ends
abruptly with a semicircular sweep a short distance above the
spot where the camp is pitched. What adds greatly to the
beauty of the valley is, that it contains several of those immense
trees with distorted trunks and bright-green foliage,
whose real name is a moot point, but which are alike claimed
to belong to the banyan, india-rubber, or tulip-tree species.
At any rate, whatever be their species, they are one of the
most picturesque species of tree I ever saw. They cover an
immense extent of ground, and their trunks sometimes lie
along the ground, sometimes rise in strange contorted forms.
Their bark is extremely rough, and whitish-gray, and if seen
without the foliage, would be certainly rather taken for strange
blocks and pillars of stone than for the trunks of trees. In
the camp we found a company of the 33d and the head-quarters
of that regiment, who are upon their way to join the
wing at Attegrat, and who had just come in, as had the
mountain battery of steel guns under Colonel Milward, both
having left Senafe two or three hours before ourselves. There
was also a convoy of the Transport Train on their way to the
front, and also a troop of the Scinde Horse. This station
must be fifteen hundred feet below Senafe, and the difference
of temperature is surprising. Last night I did not at all feel
cold, whereas at Senafe it was next to impossible to keep
warm, however numerous the wrappings in which one enveloped
oneself. This morning I have been up a very pretty
little broad valley, about a quarter of a mile in length. This
branches off from the larger valley exactly opposite the camp,
and it is down this that the little stream of water comes. The
valley is clothed in shrubs and small trees, and the water falls
into it over a perpendicular rock fifty feet high at its upper
extremity. It put me very much in mind of a Westmoreland
glen, with a little force
at the extremity. Here, too, to increase
the resemblance, I found some old friends whom I have
not seen since I left England, namely dog-roses, common
brambles, and honeysuckle. Down by the water’s edge, upon
the rocks, kept moist by the water-spray, grew maiden-hair
and other ferns. The air was sweet with arbutus-flowers,
and the plash of the water was most grateful to the ear after
the dry plains of Zulla and Senafe. Here, too, we had the
aloe in flower, with its long heads of reddish-orange blossom.
Here we had a sort of scabius ten feet high, and a rush or
water-grass twenty feet in height, with its plumy reed. Here
over the shrubs crept the familiar clematis, with its great
clusters of white downy reed. Here was a sort of tares, with
their pink blossom, and growing straight and strong to a
height of four or five feet. Upon the trees were perched
wood-pigeons and doves, which called to one another with
their soft coo. Altogether it was a lovely little spot, and it
was with the greatest reluctance that I left it to come back
to camp to write this letter previous to starting for Fokado,
the next station.
You will see that, although the mail only goes once a
week, I am, as long as I am moving forwards, obliged to
write every three days, as for every day I move further the
mail takes another day to come down. It is, in addition, no
easy matter to find time to write when upon the march. One
rises at daybreak, which is little before seven, and, using the
very greatest diligence, it is nearly two hours before the tent
can be struck, and the mules loaded and upon their way. I
generally give them a start of an hour, and then ride on,
overtake them, and see that all is going on well. If so, I
ride forward, and use some friend’s tent until my own arrives,
which, if the distance is fourteen miles, will not be until
nearly four in the afternoon; for my mules, with stoppages
to readjust baggage, &c., do not make above two miles an
hour. Then there is pitching the tent, drawing rations, and
seeing the horses watered and fed; and by the time dinner
is ready and our work done, it is past six o’clock. One generally
puts one’s rations with those of friends; and by the
time the meal is over, and the succeeding pipe and glass of
arrack-and-water discussed, one is far more fit for bed than
for sitting down to chronicle the events of the day. My next
letter will be from Attegrat, where I expect to stay for a
few days.
Attegrat, February 7th.
I have been so long looking forward to arriving at Attegrat,
that, being here, I feel that I have made a long
stage into the interior of Abyssinia. I confess, however, that
I am disappointed in Attegrat. It is foolish, I own. I
ought by this time to have learnt the utter hollowness and
emptiness of all statements connected with the country; and
everything we have been told, everything we have been led
to expect, has alike turned out utterly incorrect. Sometimes
we have been told pleasant things, sometimes we have been
threatened with dire calamities; but in both cases the
vaticinations have turned out equally incorrect. Guinea-worms
and tape-worms, fever and cholera, small-pox and dysentery,
tetse-fly and sunstroke—all these have been distinguished by
their absence: but as a counterbalance, so have Colonel
Phayre’s green fields and gushing springs at Zulla, his perennial
water between Sooro and Rayray Guddy, and his
emporium of commerce at Senafe, which turned out a village
of six mud-huts. Still, in spite of previous disappointments,
I confess I clung to the idea that I should find a town of
considerable size at Attegrat. The place was marked in
Roman capitals upon the maps. It had been spoken of as a
town flowing with milk and honey; it was to be one of our
main halting-places; and altogether one certainly did expect
to find rather more than twenty hovels, a barn called a
church, and another ruinous barn which was once a palace.
But before I describe Attegrat, let me detail my journey
here from Goun-Gonna. I sent my baggage off at seven
o’clock in the morning, at the same time that the baggage of
the head-quarters of the 33d and Colonel Penn’s battery of
mountain guns started. I then explored the pretty valley I
described in my last, and afterwards went into a friend’s
tent and finished my letter to you. At twelve o’clock I
started for what I was told was an eleven miles’ ride; but it
turned out the longest sixteen I have ever ridden. Every
officer and man to whom I have spoken—and among others
I may quote Colonel Milward and Colonel Penn of the Artillery,
and Major Cooper, and all the officers of the 33d—agreed
with me that it was over sixteen miles. Colonel
Phayre’s and the quartermaster’s departments’ gross miscalculation
of distances is becoming a very serious nuisance.
It is absolutely cruel upon the men. If soldiers are told
that they have a sixteen miles’ march across a rough country,
and beneath a hot sun, they will do the distance. It may
be hard work; but they know when they start what is before
them, and they make up their minds to it. But when they
are told it is eleven miles, at the end of that distance they
begin to look out anxiously for their camping-place. They
become cross and impatient, and are infinitely more fatigued
than they would have been had they been told the real distance
that was before them.
I now resume my account of my day’s march. For the
first two miles the road mounted very steeply, until we were
at least a thousand feet above Goun-Gonna, and had gained
the great plateau out of which the valley is cut. It must
have been a very difficult ascent before the road was made
by the Sappers and Miners and Punjaub Pioneers. I do
not know which parts of the road between Senafe and Attegrat
are to be assigned to each regiment; but I believe
that the road between Senafe and Goun-Gonna was executed
principally by the 33d, assisted by the 10th Native Infantry,
and that beyond this point it has been entirely the work of
the Sappers and Miners and the Pioneers. The road from
Goun-Gonna to Attegrat has not been continuously formed,
as it is from Zulla to Goun-Gonna. It is only made in very
difficult places, where it would have been next to impossible
for a mule to have passed without its burden getting over
its ears or tail. In other places we have the mere track
worn by the people of the country; but where we ascend or
descend gulleys or ravines, or where the road winds along
on the face of a hill, when a false step would have involved
a roll of a thousand feet down, there a fair road has been
cut, which, although frequently steep, is always safe and
passable. The road, take it as a whole, from Goun-Gonna
to this place, is about as good as a bridle-road among the
Welsh or Scotch hills. There are some extremely-steep
places, where one mule falling down would stop a whole
force, and where the loads shift terribly; but there are no
places which cannot with care be surmounted, even by a
baggage-train of mules. But this has been the easy portion
of the journey. From this place to Antalo the difficulties
will be vastly greater; beyond Antalo still greater again.
It is for this reason that I look forward to a time when my
knapsack will contain my whole luggage, and when sleeping
in the open air will be the rule for everyone. Upon getting
fairly up to the top of the hill-side from Goun-Gonna, a
flat of apparently almost illimitable extent stretched away
before us. Two or three of the curious conical hills which
abound in this country rose at a considerable distance, and
in the horizon were the peaks of the most fantastically-jagged
range of mountains I ever saw. Nothing in the Alps will
give any idea of the varied outline of this range of peaks.
They are serrated and jagged in every conceivable form.
Single peaks and double peaks, peaks like a cavalry saddle,
and great square-topped blocks with perpendicular sides.
The plain itself was dotted with low bushes, and covered
everywhere with a luxuriant growth of grass, or rather hay,
which reached up to the horses’ girths. The ground was
strewn with loose stones, which, with the numerous small
holes, made any progress beyond a walking-pace difficult and
even dangerous. The stones, and indeed the whole formation
of this upper plateau, are composed of a very white
sandstone. In the pass up to Senafe the formation was entirely
schist, broken and cracked-up in a wonderful manner,
with numerous veins of quartz, and occasional walls of very
hard volcanic stone traversing it. On the plain of Senafe,
and throughout the whole country this side of it, we have a
superincumbent bed of sandstone, which has evidently been
exposed for a very long time to the action of water. The
great rocks of Senafe are everywhere water-worn, and were
islets, which rose above the level of a great sea, and resisted
the action of the water, which has cleared away the sandstone
around them to the general regular level of the plateau.
Traversing the plain, we found that the seemingly almost
boundless level was apparent rather than real, for the road
constantly wound to avoid great valleys, which everywhere
penetrated far into it. The sensation of coming suddenly
upon a valley of 1000 or 1500 feet deep when apparently
travelling upon a level plain was very singular. It quite
upset all our preconceived notions of scenery. One found
that the mountains to our left, which had appeared to rise a
thousand feet or so above the plain, were really double that
height from the bottom of the before-invisible valley which
intervened between ourselves and them, and that the plain
we were traversing was not a plain at all, but a succession
of flat mountain-tops. Sometimes these valleys ran so far
into the plateau that the road would have to diverge too
much from the straight line to pass round their heads, and
in these cases we descended some hundred feet and mounted
up the other side. The view down some of these valleys
was extremely fine, the mountains beyond frequently rising
for miles in an unbroken perpendicular wall of two or three
thousand feet. The finest view, however, was about two
miles from our halting-place; and this, although I have seen
much splendid scenery in my varied wanderings, was
certainly the finest and most striking scene I ever beheld. Our
path was winding along the face of a high mountain, along
which our pioneers had cut a path some ten or twelve feet
wide. We were perhaps a hundred feet above the general
level of the plateau, but were passing round the head of a
valley which lay some fifteen hundred feet below us. This
valley was only a short branch of a broader valley which
ran at right-angles to it, and beyond and in the middle of
which a number of isolated hills rose up like islands; these
were all flat-topped, and rose to the exact level of the general
plateau. Some had sloping sides, others were perfectly perpendicular;
and it required no stretch of the imagination to
picture the time when a mighty river was sweeping down
this great valley, and when these island-mountains breasted
and divided its waters. To our right this valley was ten or
twelve miles wide, and the numerous islands presented an
extraordinary vista of precipice and slope. On the opposite
side of the valley the plateau extended for a mile or two,
and then rose into lofty rounded mountains; more to the
left it stretched away for many miles, and the view was
bounded by the extraordinary fantastic range of peaks of
which I have already spoken. It was a most glorious view,
and, broken by the lights and shadows thrown by a sinking
sun, will always remain in my recollection as the most extraordinary
and magnificent landscape I ever saw.
We arrived at Fokado at half-past four, getting in half
an hour before our baggage, which had been eight hours and
a half upon the road, and quite determined that in future,
whatever labour it involved, we would not again let it out of
our sight. The break-down of a baggage-animal, if one is
at hand oneself to see that one’s servants instantly and
properly reload it, is an affair of ten minutes at most; but if
the servants are left to their own devices, it will occupy
over half-an-hour. First of all there are ten minutes wasted
in deploring the calamity, another ten in undoing the cords,
and at least twenty more in repacking and getting under
way. Fokado, like all our camping-stations, lies in a slight
basin; this basin is, like the rest of the plateau-land, covered
with long grass. A dozen men with scythes could cut enough
in a day to supply a cavalry regiment; but they would have
to be very careful to choose such portions of the plain as are
not covered with stones. As it is, the grass-cutters are supplied
with very small sickles, which do very well to hack off
a bunch of grass, but which are of little use towards getting
in any large quantity. Fortunately the natives cut and bring
it in in considerable amount, and I am able to purchase an
abundance from them; for no forage is issued by the commissariat
for our baggage-animals, and it would be out of
the question to expect our syces to go out and cut grass after
a long and fatiguing day’s march. There is a well at Fokado
from which plenty of cool and moderately-pure water is obtained.
After having seen my tent erected and my rations
drawn and on the fire, I walked on with two or three officers
of the 33d to see the church. It stood, as most of the
churches here do, upon slightly-rising ground, and was surrounded
by a high wall, with the gateway entering beneath
a sort of tower. Having paid my dollar—the modest tariff
here demanded for admission—I entered the enclosure. It
was in a state of the utmost disorder; loose boulders and
stones were strewn everywhere, and I saw no signs whatever
of graves. This was the case in the other three churches I
have since visited, and is the more singular as the
graveyards I saw and described coming up the pass, and which
were those of the Mahometan tribes who inhabit that part
of the country, were so carefully constructed and so religiously
preserved. I have not seen a single grave since I
entered the Christian part of Abyssinia. Near the church-door
was a framework of three cross-poles, and from this
were suspended, by straw ropes, two large stones of sonorous
qualities. These were the church-bells. The church itself
was a low edifice, built of rough stones, with large blocks
forming the door-frame. Entering, I found myself in a low
chamber, the roof being supported by four rough stone columns.
The floor was littered down with rushes, and had
exactly the appearance of a stable. On the wall was a rude
half-length fresco of the Virgin, squinting terribly; and on
the door leading to the next chamber was a skin or parchment
with a somewhat similar painting. Having bowed
deeply before each of these portraits at the request of the
officiating priest, I was admitted into the next chamber,
which was precisely similar to the first, but, having no windows,
it only received such light as came in through the
crevices of the doors. There was some demur as to my
entering the next chamber, which indeed had been refused
to all the officers who had been previously there; but I
pointed to my white solar hat; and this and the fact of my
not being in uniform convinced them, I believe, that I was
a priest; for I should mention that the Abyssinian priests
are distinguished by wearing white turbans, all the rest of
the population going bare-headed. I was therefore admitted
into the holy of holies. This was a more lofty chamber than
the others, and was lighted by a window high up on the side
wall. Across the room, at a distance of about a yard from
the door, hung a screen about six feet high; this screen was
made of roughly-embroidered canvas, and was apparently
intended to prevent the eyes of the worshippers in the second
chamber catching a glimpse of the penetralia when the door
was opened. Looking round the end of this curtain, I saw
an erection resembling a painter’s easel. A parchment or
skin was stretched across the upper portion, and on this probably
was a painting of some sort; but as it was wrapped
up in a cloth, I was unable to examine it, as I was not
allowed to go beyond the line of the screen. Returning,
I noticed in one corner of the first chamber some long sticks,
with a double bend at the top; that is, resembling in form
a cross, with the top piece broken off. These are used in
the service. Near them, in a niche in the wall, were some
pieces of iron fastened together so as to make a jingling noise
when shaken. These, no doubt, supply the place of the bell
at the raising of the host. I have omitted to say that in
the churchyard were two rough fonts; they were round
blocks of stone, about two feet and a half high and eighteen
inches in diameter; the hollow at the top for water was
about eight inches deep. I have seen no fonts in the other
churches I have entered.
The following morning I started for Attegrat, a march
of about eleven miles. For some distance the road kept
along the top of the plateau, which was here undulating, and
the road in many places was very rough. At last we came
to the brink of a valley, into the bottom of which we had to
descend. How anything like a laden animal ever got down
before the road was made it is next to impossible to imagine.
We came along a beaten track to the top of the valley, and
we could see the path again going straight along below us
from the bottom; but there was no trace of any track or
path down the tremendously-steep descent; and I suppose
the little bullocks, which are as sure-footed as goats, and
the donkeys, were allowed to pick their way down as they
liked best. Fortunately, we were not reduced to this alternative,
which would certainly have ended in three out of
our four baggage-animals breaking their necks, even if the
fourth—a sturdy little Massowah mule, with the zebra-marks
upon his back and legs—had managed to get in safety to the
bottom. A road has been cut along the face of the hill by
the Sappers and Pioneers; and this road, although exceedingly
steep in some places, is yet perfectly practicable. It
is, however, only six feet wide, and in two or three places
even less, and consequently a train of mules are a long time
getting down; for if the load of one shifts and gets over his
ears, all the rest must wait until it is readjusted-no easy
matter upon a steep incline. If one fall from weakness or
disease, there would be no resource but to roll him at once
over the edge of the path into the valley below. Fortunately,
none of these contingencies happened to us. The loads all
got on to the animals’ necks, but our men and ourselves
were able to keep them balanced there until we reached the
foot of the hill, when all the loads had to be taken off and
entirely repacked. Just at the foot of the incline was a
village. During our journey across the plateau from Goun-Gonna
to this point we had only passed Fokado and one
other village. We saw many down in the deep valleys
around whose heads we had skirted, but upon the flat level
of the plateau we did not see a single habitation. There
were numerous herds of cattle, but these probably come up
to graze upon the thick grass during the day, and descend
into the valleys for water at night. We also passed some
curious piles of stones upon the plateau-land, which I omitted
to mention in my description of that part of my journey.
These piles were thirty or forty feet in diameter, and five or
six feet high; they were of stones roughly thrown together,
and had I met with them in England I should have supposed
that they had been merely cleared off the fields; but here
there were no signs of cultivation, and the stones were too
thickly strewn everywhere to render it probable that any
Abyssinian cultivator would have undertaken the labour of
clearing piles of stones of this size off his land—a work
which, without wheeled vehicles, would be very great. These
heaps always occurred near the track, and were generally
surrounded by bushes. I passed at least twenty of them.
It is possible that these cairns may be burying-places; but
the deserted position, the fact that they were far from villages,
and the labour which they must have taken to make,
all seem to negative this supposition. Besides which, there
was hardly the regularity about their shape which one meets
with in the burying-cairns of even the most savage nations.
I confess that they are to me a perfect mystery. In the
village at the foot of the descent was a church which was
exactly similar to the one at Fokado. It had no fonts that
I could observe, but boasted of a gong in addition to the
sonorous stones for summoning the faithful to prayers. In
the enclosure, lying among the stones, was a large volcanic
bomb, the first of the sort I have seen in the country; it
had apparently been brought there as something strange, and
perhaps supernatural, and had therefore been put on holy
ground; for the enclosure within the walls is holy in
Abyssinian eyes, and we are always required to take off our hats
on entering the outside gates.
From this village to Attegrat the road keeps in the bottom
of a broad valley, the great part of which is ploughed up
and ready for the seed, which is, I suppose, sown before the
June rains. The soil is light and good, in many places a rich
light loam, which would delight an English gardener’s heart.
The ploughs are drawn by oxen, and are exactly similar to
those I have seen in parts of Italy, except that the share of this
is broader and does certainly more work. Indeed, it is by no
means badly adapted for shallow ploughing on a light ground.
A ride of about five miles down the valley brought us to a
slight rise in the ground, and on surmounting this, Attegrat
lay before us. My first impression was that of disappointment,
for, with the exception of its containing two or three
larger buildings, it differed in nothing from the other villages
we have seen. The valley, at the point where Attegrat lies,
is about two miles wide, and the twenty or thirty flat-roofed
huts, which, with the church and a ruined palace, constitute
the city, stand on rising ground nearly in its centre. On the
left of this valley, near the slope, is the British camp. Behind
it the ground rises gradually, affording camping-ground,
if necessary, for a considerable force. Indeed, with the exception
of some ploughed fields round the town, the whole
valley is well suited for a camp. The force at present here
are the five companies of the 33d regiment, whose camp, with
that of Penn’s mountain battery of steel guns and the Royal
Engineers, is the first we arrive at. Next to the 33d lines
are the commissariat stores. A few hundred yards farther
down in the valley is the camp of the six companies of the
10th Native Infantry. Their tents, like those of the European
troops, are upon the slope. Beyond them this slope becomes
much steeper, and accordingly the 3d Native Cavalry are
camped in the bottom. Next to them come the Mule Train.
The divisions here are the Lahore Mule Train and the A Division
under Captain Griffiths. It was this division which first
landed, and brought up the pioneer force. It has been ever
since in the front, and is now in admirable condition. The
Egyptian, Arab, Italian, and, in fact, all the drivers, except
only the Hindoostanee drivers, have been during the last few
days sent down to the coast to be returned to their own
countries, and their places have been filled with the Hindoo
dhoolie bearers, and others whose services will be no longer
required, now that the regiments have all to march without
followers. It need hardly be said that this will very greatly
improve the efficiency of the division, for the Hindoo, if he
has less strength than the Arab, Egyptian, or Persian, is yet
amenable to discipline, and will, to the best of his power,
carry out the orders he receives; whereas the other men were
utterly reckless and disobedient, and could not be trusted
out of reach of the eye of their officers. The camp of the
Scinde Horse is still farther down the valley, beyond the
transport lines. Sir Robert Napier arrived yesterday afternoon.
His camp had been pitched for him on some slightly-rising
ground in front of the 33d lines, and distant three or
four hundred yards. To-day, however, the tents are being
struck, and will be pitched in a line with the 33d tents, and
forming a connection between them and the artillery. His
tent, therefore, is in the exact centre of the European line,
with the artillery on his right, the 33d on his left flank.
I now proceed to describe Attegrat. The most conspicuous
building, as seen from our camp, is a detached sort
of fortress, which looks like nothing so much as the castle of
Bluebeard in a pantomime. It stands on a rising knoll, and
consists of a square building of two stories high. Upon the
top, and greatly overhanging each side, are four extraordinary-looking
erections, like great dog-kennels or pigeon-cots,
but which must be six or seven feet square. Almost
the whole of these constructions project over the walls. What
may be the use of these curious appendages to the tower, it
is impossible to say. Next to this square tower stands a
building as incongruous with it in its construction as it is
possible to conceive. It is round, and has a high thatched
roof, like a beehive. In addition to these main structures
are several low sheds. The whole are enclosed in a high
wall with a tower in it, underneath which is the gateway.
The buildings are, no doubt, of stone, but they are all plastered
over with mud, and look as if made of that material.
As I have said, it is exactly one’s idea of Bluebeard’s castle,
and one expects to see sister Anne waving her handkerchief
out of one of the pigeon-cots at its summit. Certainly, if
the gate were to open, and a stout figure in an immense
pasteboard head, with a blue beard trailing upon the ground,
and surrounded by a host of retainers also with big heads—which
their chief would, of course, belabour occasionally with
his staff—were to issue out, it would be in such admirable
keeping with the place, that one would feel no astonishment.
And yet this fortress has its history, and has stood its siege.
It seems that the king or chief of this part of the country used
seldom to live in his palace in the town itself, and his brother
had his abode there. The brother took too much upon himself,
and the jealousy and ire of the chief were aroused, and
he ordered his brother to move out of the palace. This he
did, but constructed at half-a-mile from the town this
formidable castle. A disagreement arose, and the king attacked
the castle, which he took after twenty hours’ siege. The
castle is at present inhabited by the wife of a chief—I cannot
say whether it is the same chief, for dates in Abyssinia
are somewhat confused—who is a prisoner of Gobayze, King
of Lasta. She has, I hear, taken a vow never to go out
of doors while her husband is in captivity. Passing Bluebeard’s
castle, it is a good half-mile to the town. At the
right-hand on a rising rock is the church, which at a
distance exactly resembles a Swiss châlet. It is, of course,
surrounded by its wall, and within the enclosure grow some
of the gigantic candelabra cactus. The church itself is more
lofty than any I have yet seen. It is square, and is covered
with a high thatched roof, the eaves of which project all
round a considerable distance, and are supported by poles.
Upon paying the usual fee, I was admitted in the enclosure,
and saw at once that this church was of far greater pretensions
than any I had yet seen. The entrance was by a doorway
of squared beams, with two arches, each cut out of one
piece, and each ornamented with five rolls of wood underneath.
Entering this, we were in a sort of lobby or hall.
The walls of this were covered with frescoes representing the
feats of the founder of the church, who was either the father
or grandfather of the present chief. Here that redoubted
warrior is represented spearing an elephant; again he is
kneeling and taking aim at a lion, whose claws are of truly-formidable
dimensions. Here there are two or three battle-scenes,
in which he is defeating his enemies with immense
slaughter. To judge by his portraits, the founder of the church
was a fair, round-faced man, with short hair and a slight
moustache. I passed from this vestibule into the church itself.
Its construction differs entirely from the others I have seen,
inasmuch as instead of the sacred chamber being placed
beyond two others, it was in the centre of the building,
and was surrounded by a passage, the walls of which were
covered with frescoes representing events in Old and New
Testament writing, and in the lives of the saints. Here
we have St. George nobly spearing the dragon, while the
King of Egypt’s daughter and her maidens stand by with
clasped hands and admiring eyes. Here we have St. Peter
suffering martyrdom by being crucified head downwards;
with a vast number of other martyrdoms. The biblical events
all strictly follow the scriptural description; the only remarkable
difference being that at the Last Supper thirteen apostles
are represented as being present. In all these, as in the first
frescoes, the faces of the actors are represented as white;
while in the Temptation the tempter has his traditional sable
hue. These frescoes are all in the early Byzantine style,
and were they but really ancient, would be extremely curious
and valuable; but as the church is not, at most, more
than sixty or seventy years old, it is evident that they are
the work of some Egyptian or Greek artist brought down
for the purpose. I was not allowed to see what was in the
central chamber. Leaving the church, I crossed the town,
sixty or seventy yards, to where, at its other extremity,
stands the ruined palace. It is surrounded by a wall, which
encloses a considerable extent of ground. The principal portion
of the palace far more resembles a church than do any
of the actual churches of the country. It consists of a hall
fifty feet long by twenty-five feet wide, with a small round
room at the end opposite to the door. The entrance is underneath
a porch; and along this, at about eight feet from the
ground, there are built into it a line of bullocks’ horns, with
their points projecting outwards. The hall was thirty feet
high to the springing of the roof, and must have been really
a fine hall, country and place being taken into consideration.
The greater part of one side-wall has, however, fallen; and
the roof is entirely gone. Some of the great beams which
crossed it lie on the ground, and it would be a matter of
considerable interest to inquire whence, in a treeless country
like this, these massive beams were obtained. The most
interesting portion of the ruin is the room beyond the great
hall, and which was probably the king’s own room. It is
entered by a double-arched door, of workmanship and design
similar to that I have described at the church; the two buildings
being coeval, and the woodwork unquestionably worked
by some foreign artificer brought here for the purpose. The
chamber itself is about fifteen feet across, with three deep
recesses, each lighted by a small double-arched window of
the same pattern as the door. The room was about twelve feet
high, and was ceiled by a circular arched roof, which still
remains. It is made of reeds or rushes sewn side by side,
like the basketwork of the country, and dyed with a pattern
in reel and blue. This was all worth describing in the palace;
there were several other buildings attached to it, but none
worthy of any special notice.
About a mile beyond Attegrat, upon the other side of
the valley, there is another church, whose site might well
have been selected by the monks of old for a monastery, so
charming is the grove in which it is situated. This grove
is of considerable extent, and consists of several sorts of
really lofty trees: there is a thick undergrowth—with plenty
of paths for walking, however—of all sorts of plants. There
are some tall bananas with their broad, graceful leaves, the
first I have seen since I left Bombay. There are roses and
honeysuckles, wild figs and acacias; over all of which a thick
cordage of various creepers twines in clusters. To add to the
enjoyment, the whole air is heavy with the fragrance of the
wild jasmine, which grows in great bushes, covered with
clusters of its white star-like flowers. While sitting down
with a party of three or four officers of the 33d enjoying the
delightful shade and the charming fragrance, the priest with
several natives came up to us, and taking seats, or rather
squatting—I do not think an Abyssinian knows how to sit
down—beside us, they entered into a species of conversation
with us, inquiring particularly, as do all the natives, if we
were Christians. Presently they made signs they would like
to see some sketches I had been taking; but when they took
them in their hands they were completely puzzled, turned
them upside down and sideways, and even looked behind
at the back of the paper: they could evidently make nothing
of them. Presently the priest, with an air of great self-satisfaction,
made signs that he could write, and demanded
if I could do so. I had no writing at hand, but in my
sketch-book I had a column of your paper which I had cut
out for purposes of reference; this I gravely handed over,
and it was received with a perfect shout, first of astonishment,
then of delight. They had never seen such even and
perfect manuscript in their lives. The priest evidently thought
I must be a priest of high grade, and he at once offered to
show us the church, which he did without demanding the
usual dollar from any one of the party. It was so similar
to those I have previously described that I need not say
anything about it, except that in the holy of holies, in place
of a frame like a painter’s easel, the shrine was composed of
three poles, seven or eight feet long, inclining towards each
other, and meeting at the top like a tripod: a piece of cloth
was wrapped round the upper part of this frame. I cannot
say whether it concealed anything, but it did not appear to me
to do so. Below this a skin was stretched between the three
legs, so as to make a sort of shelf, and upon this were placed
a number of withered flowers. I should mention that, in the
inner chamber of most of these churches, those who have
entered with me have agreed that there was a faint but
distinct odour of incense. It may be, however, that in all
of them might have been some flowers, such as jasmine, the
perfumes of which may have deceived us. It is rather singular
that the grape has not been introduced into a country
which would seem by its climate to be well suited for it.
There is no wine to be obtained here; and the sacrament
is administered by squeezing a raisin into a chalice of water.
Raisins are, however, very scarce; and in some churches
years have elapsed without the administration of the sacrament,
owing entirely to the absence of even a single raisin.
In my description of Attegrat I have omitted to say,
that although the town itself does not contain more than
twenty or thirty houses, yet the population within a short
distance is very large; for on the hill-side, behind the church
I have just been describing, there are numerous villages,
which are probably known in the local tongue as lower
and upper Attegrat, new and old, eastern and western
Attegrat. Attegrat, at any rate, is their centre; and
judging by the number of natives one sees in and about
the camp, and the number of houses in the various villages,
there must be a population of six or eight thousand clustered
in a circle of three or four miles from the town.
I have now described the general features of the place,
and shall close and send off this letter, although it is only
four days since I posted my last, and the next mail is not
advertised to start for another eight days. I shall write
again for that post; but my experience has taught me that the
mail here is one of those charming uncertainties upon which
it is impossible to calculate. Besides this, I may at any
moment find myself compelled to push on; and, in that case,
there would be no saying when my next letter would reach
you. I hope, however, to be enabled to give you a full
description of the visit of the King of Tigre, who is expected
to-morrow or next day.
Attegrat, February 13th.
Our grand Christmas farcio-pantomime, entitled Harlequin
and the Magic Durbar; or the Ambassador, the Archbishop,
and the Barbarian Cortege,
has been played to an
immensely amused and numerous audience. The title had
been advertised as The King, the Archbishop, &c.;
but,
owing to the unavoidable absence of the principal actor, the
Ambassador was at the last moment substituted for the King.
The opening scene may be described as The camp of the
Knight Errant, Sir Robert Napier, with Bluebeard’s Castle
in the middle distance, and the town of Attegrat and the
mountains in the background.
Flourish of trumpets! A
herald arrives, the part being enacted by Major Grant, who
states that the King is unable to come in person to wait upon
the valiant Knight, but that he had sent his dear brother,
the Grand Vizier, together with his Archbishop, to assure
the Knight of his friendship. Bustle and excitement in the
camp. A pause. Sound of strange and barbaric music in
the distance. This gradually approaches, and then, from the
rear of Bluebeard’s Castle—of which a full description was
given in my last—enter the head of procession, consisting of—three
men blowing upon cow-horns. These were inserted
into the ends of long sticks, and in appearance were very like
the long horns used by heralds of old. Their sound is lugubrious
in the extreme. Next follows a man of tall stature,
beating violently upon a tom-tom. Next follow the musqueteers
of the body-guard; dress—dirty clothes miscellaneously
draped; bare heads frizzled and oiled; arms—any
stage-properties which might come conveniently to hand; old
Portuguese match-locks, and new fowling-pieces from Liège;
double-barrelled guns, and guns with one long and frequently
crooked barrel, the large proportion quite incapable of being
fired. Next follows the Ambassador of the King on a mule,
with gorgeous caparisons of stamped green and red leather,
bearing the tiger rampant, the arms of the great potentate
his master. The Ambassador is clothed like his body-guard,
in whity-brown cloth of coarse cotton, with red ends.
With this, as a sign of his dignity, he envelopes not only his
body, but his mouth and chin, as do the chiefs behind him.
He wears round his neck a fur collar with long tails. The
Ambassador of the great King is bareheaded. His hair
is arranged, as is the manner of the chiefs of his people,
in a series of little plaits, which run in parallel lines from his
forehead over the head to the nape of the neck. This style
appears to be copied from the Assyrian bas-relievos in the
British Museum. Next to the Ambassador of the great
King rides the Archbishop, upon a mule similarly caparisoned.
The Archbishop is clothed in absolutely white robes, with
turban to match. These dignitaries have both stirrups to
their saddles, in which the great-toes only are placed, to, I
should say, the imminent danger of those members if the
mule should stumble. Behind these great personages ride
the inferior chiefs. These, either from a feeling of modesty,
or from a lack of animals, ride two upon each mule. Behind
follow the spearmen of the guard on foot. These are
about thirty in number, and are armed with lance, sickle,
and shield. When this procession has fairly wound round
the corner of Bluebeard’s Castle, it halts to await the arrival
of a herald from the good Knight. All this time the
barbaric music continues to sound, and is answered by sister
Anne and Fatimah in the castle, and by the women all over
the country, by a prolonged cry on a single note, kept up
with a quavering modulation for a considerable time. This
is a welcome on the part of the people of the country to
the ambassador of the great King. While the procession
halts, the soldiers of the Knight Errant flock out to inspect
them. Irregular chorus of soldiers: My eye, Bill,
if these are the sort of chaps we’ve come to fight, we sha’n’t
have much trouble with them.
The remainder of the pantomime
I will, for brevity’s sake, describe as if it had been
a real event in the expedition; but the reader must bear in
mind that the whole piece, its accessories and appointments,
were infinitely funny and amusing. After conferring with
the Commander-in-chief, Major Grant and Mr. Speedy went
out to meet the procession, and conducted them through the
camp to the tent of General Merewether. During their progress
the wild music continued to sound, and nearly effected
a stampede of the whole of the animals in camp. In the
mean time three companies of the 33d regiment, two of the
10th N.I., with the bands of both regiments, were drawn up
in line in front of and facing Sir Robert Napier’s tent, an
interval of about fifty yards being left. On the flanks of the
line two squadrons of the 3d N. Cavalry and of the Scinde
Horse were drawn up. When all was ready, the cortége advanced,
horns blowing and tom-toms beating. At their head
strode Mr. Speedy, who is nearly six feet six inches tall, and
who carried in his hand a sword nearly as tall as himself.
As the procession approached, the military bands struck up
and the troops saluted. The din at this moment was astounding.
The bands played different tunes, and the cow-horns
and tom-toms played no tune at all. Mr. Speedy with some
trouble marshalled his ragged irregulars in line, and, this
accomplished, led the two ambassadors to the chief’s tent.
The tent was one of the long narrow tents called native
routies, and, being lined with scarlet, made a very good tent
for the reception. Sir Robert Napier was seated with his
helmet on at one end. The ambassadors were introduced by
Mr. Speedy, who acted as interpreter, and after bowing very
deeply, they shook hands with the chief. They then took
seats upon the ground beside him; as many officers as could
find room without crowding ranged themselves along the sides
of the tent, and also took their places behind Sir Robert
Napier, the back of the tent being open as well as the front.
The conversation commenced by one of the ambassadors
stating that the King of Tigre, his brother, had sent him
to assure the British Commander-in-chief of his friendship.
The King would have come in person to welcome Sir Robert,
but he had been just solemnly proclaimed king, and it was
strict etiquette that he should not leave his capital for thirty
days afterwards.
Sir Robert Napier replied that he was very glad to receive
the assurance of the King’s friendship; that we ourselves had
come with the most friendly intentions to all in Abyssinia,
with the exception only of those who held our countrymen
captives; that in our progress we should violently interfere
with no one; and that, our enterprise over, we should return at
once to our own country. The Ambassador said that the
King and everyone in the country wished well to our cause;
for that Theodore was a tyrant who had ravaged the whole
country, and had murdered thousands of people, including
his own near relations. Therefore, he hoped, that we should
punish him for his wickedness.
He then said that the
King was very anxious to see Sir Robert, and would be very
glad if he would let him know how long he was likely to remain
at Attegrat.
The General answered that he could
not say when he should leave; that his preparations were not
yet completed; but that when he was able to fix a day for his
departure he would, if the King wished, send a message to let
the King know; but that he feared he could not give sufficient
notice for the King to arrive in time.
The Ambassador then
made a statement which showed that his last question was not
bonâ fide, and that the King had really no intention of coming
at all. He said that the King had a large army—that as
long as he was with them they behaved well, but that he could
not leave them, for if he did so they would spread over the
country and oppress the peasantry.
The Chief replied that,
under these circumstances he could quite understand the
King’s reluctance to leave his army, but that he hoped on his
return from Magdala he should have the pleasure of meeting
his Majesty.
There was then a pause in the conversation,
and the Ambassador begged to know when he might be
allowed to leave. Sir Robert answered that early in the
morning he would show him our soldiers, and after that he
could leave whenever he chose. A few trifling articles were
then presented to the Ambassador and Archbishop as tokens
of friendship, and after again bowing and shaking hands with
Sir Robert Napier, they took their leave, and, surrounded by
their guards, moved off amid the din of music which had
greeted their arrival. The next morning at seven o’clock the
whole of the troops turned out to a general parade. The Ambassadors
were present. After riding along the whole line,
the General and staff took up their position in front, and the
33d regiment were put through the bayonet exercise, which
they performed exceedingly well, especially when it is considered
that it is nearly four months since they last did it.
They then went through the platoon drill; but the natives did
not at all comprehend this. They heard the snapping of the
locks as the Sniders were supposed to be fired in rapid volleys.
When informed what was being done, they entirely disbelieved
it, and plainly said so, stating that no guns could be
fired so quickly as that. It is a very great pity that a small
number of cartridges were not broken up and served out as
blank cartridges; or better still, had a hundred ball cartridges
been served out to ten men, to have been discharged as
rapidly as possible against a rock on the hill-side. Weight
is of course precious, but the lesson those hundred cartridges
would have taught would have been cheaply purchased
at any cost. It was emphatically a penny-wise-and-pound-foolish
economy. Colonel Penn’s batteries of steel
guns were then examined, and these fired a few rounds with
blank cartridges.
Our savage visitors, however, were more impressed with
the artillery than they had been with the infantry. The
guns, they said, were small, and did not make much noise;
the infantry were pretty to look at, but of no use in a hilly
country, and their long lines would be very easy to shoot at.
These criticisms are very amusing on the part of the ragged
savages, of whom I heard an Irish soldier of the 33d say,
And bedad it’s ashamed I’d be to have to fire me rifle at
such a miserable set of divils intirely. It ’ud be like killing
a definceless brute baste.
The general feeling in the camp,
indeed, upon the subject was that of disappointment. It was
exactly the reverse of the stern joy that warriors feel in foe-men
worthy of their steel.
We did hope that if we were to
fight it would be against something in some way or another
formidable. We had heard a good deal about Theodore’s
army, who were said to be armed with guns and were drilled,
and we did have a faint hope that our foe would not be utterly
contemptible. But the first appearance of Abyssinian soldiery
has quite dispelled any such idea. Mr. Speedy and our interpreters
assure us that they are a fair sample of Abyssinian
troops. Why, Falstaff’s ragged regiment was a disciplined
and regular body to this band of savages. As for their guns,
I should say by their appearance that at least two-thirds would
burst at the very first volley fired, and would be infinitely
more dangerous to themselves than to anyone else.
If, however, our visitors thought very little of the infantry
and artillery, they were greatly impressed by the cavalry.
The Scinde Horse and 3d Native Cavalry made several charges,
and these, they acknowledged, would upon level ground be
irresistible. The horses themselves also struck them particularly.
In Abyssinia there is nothing which could by the utmost
stretch of courtesy be called a horse. They have nothing
but little rawboned ponies, together with mules and donkeys.
The cavalry animals, and those of the staff, therefore, strike
them as being prodigies of strength and beauty. It is satisfactory
to know that one arm of the service at least found
favour in the sight of our military critics, who, however, qualified
even that meed of approbation by adding that it was not
likely that Theodore would fight us upon ground where the
cavalry could charge at all. Our show, therefore, as a show,
was completely thrown away, and they saw nothing of the one
thing which would have impressed them—namely, an exhibition
of the powers of the Snider rifle.
The next day the embassy took its departure with its barbaric
music playing, and the strange quavering cries of the
women answering it over the country. There is still a possibility
that the King of Tigre may himself come to meet the
Commander-in-chief either at Antalo or at some place on
our march thither. I hardly think, however, that he will
do so. These native kings are generally so faithless and
treacherous among themselves that they do not like to trust
their persons into anyone else’s hands. Still, as the Ambassador
was allowed to take his departure unharmed, it is quite
upon the cards that the King will muster up courage and
come in.
The following is a summary of the news from the front, as
communicated to us by General Napier’s orders:
Letters were received on the 9th instant by General
Merewether from Mr. Rassam and Dr. Blanc, dated Magdala,
Jan. 17th, with enclosures from Mr. and Mrs. Flad, dated
King’s Camp, Jan 9th. All the prisoners are reported well up
to date. A detachment of troops, which had left Magdala on
Jan. 8th, had joined the King in his camp, and had received
charge of a party of about 400 prisoners to escort from the
camp to Magdala. The imprisoned Europeans were among
the number. Their leg-fetters had been removed and handcuffs
substituted, so that they might march. It is said Mr.
Rosenthal would accompany them. The King was using
every endeavour to get the road made, working with his
own hands, and making the free Europeans help. He had
made some slight progress, and had arrived at the bottom
of the valley of the Djedda River. Mr. Rassam calculates
he would reach Magdala about the end of February with his
camp, though by abandoning the latter he could any day
arrive there. The people of Dalanta continue submissive;
but those of Davout had rebelled again. His soldiers had
suffered from the scarcity of provisions and transport. It
was reported at Magdala that Menilek, the King of Shoa,
had again set out for Magdala, better prepared to act against
Theodorus than on his former visit. A detailed communication
from one of the captives, sent to his friends in England,
and there published, has by some means reached the King’s
camp, and is in the hands of M. Bardel. Apprehensions are
entertained that it may do injury there.
These letters add but little to what we knew before. Our
last advice told us that Theodore was only distant a single
day’s march from Magdala,—which, by the way, is spelt
Magdalla throughout the summary, but which is pronounced
Māgdālā, the a being always long in Amharic,—and that he
could at any moment ride in and fetch the captives confined
in that fortress, or could send those with him to Magdala
under a guard. He has chosen, it appears, the latter alternative.
The captives have at least the melancholy satisfaction
of being together. That the news of our coming has in no
way influenced the tyrant’s treatment of them is shown by
the fact, that although their leg-chains have been removed to
enable them to march, yet handcuffs have been substituted in
their stead.
From rumours among the natives, we hear that his cruelties
are more atrocious than ever. Women are being put to
death by being thrown down wells, at the bottom of which
spears are fixed point upwards. Men are executed by having
their feet first chopped off, then their hands, then their legs
at the knees, and then being left as food for wild-beasts. I
do not vouch for the truth of these stories; but they have been
brought by deserters from Theodore’s camp, and are generally
believed. I do sincerely trust that in no case shall we make
a treaty with this demon which may save him from the punishment
due to him.
The great question here is, first, whether Theodore will
fight; and secondly, what we shall do if, when we arrive, he
offers to deliver the prisoners to us as the price of our instant
departure. As to the first point I can only repeat what I have
before said, namely, that I am of opinion that he will fight,
and I think fight at Magdala. The enormous trouble he is
taking in conveying cannon with him to Magdala points conclusively
to that result. If he only wished to carry his baggage
and treasure into Magdala he might easily, with the
force at his command, construct a mule-path in a few days
at the latest; but he clings to his guns, and he can only require
them so imperiously that he puts up with months of
hardship for their sake that he may defend Magdala against
us. These savages measure the offensive powers of a gun
entirely by its size, and by the noise it makes. Thus Tigre’s
ambassador regarded our mountain train as mere pop-guns;
and no doubt Theodore believes that with the great guns his
European workmen have cast, and with the natural strength
of the fortress, he can easily resist the attacks of the English.
I believe that we shall find the King at Magdala, get there
when we will; and that as he will offer no terms that we can
accept, and as he will not assent to the demand for unconditional
surrender which we are certain to make, we shall
finally have to take the place by storm. The next question,
as to what our course will be if he offers to deliver up the
captives upon the condition of our instant retreat, is one
which it is very difficult to predicate upon. No doubt Sir
Robert Napier has instructions from home for his guidance
under such a contingency; but I cannot bring myself to
believe that these terms would be acceded to.
And now as to gossip about this place. The Abyssinians
are celebrated by travellers in their country as being an intelligent
people. Intelligent is by no means the word, nor is sharp
nor cute; they are simply the most extortionate thieves that
the sun’s light ever shone on. Formerly the necessaries of
life were extraordinarily cheap here. Mercher, the Tigre
chief who acts as interpreter, tells me that, as an example,
fowls could be purchased at forty for a dollar. I venture to
say that, at the present moment, it is the dearest place in the
habitable globe. I have seen three eggs offered for a dollar.
This was, however, too much to be stood, and at present
seven is the tariff; that is, as nearly as possible, eightpence
apiece for very little eggs. An ordinary-sized fowl costs a
dollar; and with great bargaining two very small and skinny
ones can be obtained for that sum. Two pumpkins can be
bought for a dollar: for a quart of milk a dollar is demanded,
and I have seen it given. The commissariat give a dollar for
about seventeen pounds of grain: if we buy it for our horses
in the camp—which we are obliged to do, as there are no
rations issued for our baggage-animals—we have to give a
dollar for about twelve pounds. The price of a good mule
before we came here was seven or eight dollars; this had
risen to thirty-two or thirty-three, at which the 3d Cavalry
bought a considerable number, and to thirty-seven, the average
price at which Captain Griffiths, of the Transport Train,
purchased a good many. General Merewether, however, by
one of those masterly coups for which he is so distinguished,
has suddenly raised the market price 25 per cent, by giving
fifty dollars each for a lot of forty, among which were some
very indifferent animals. After this, of course, fifty will be
the current price, until General Merewether makes another
purchase for the public service, after which there is no predicting
the price at which they will probably arrive. It is all
very well to say that they are cheaper here than they are in
Egypt; that has, as far as I can see, nothing whatever to do
with the question, any more than it would be to say they are
cheaper than at the North Pole. The people were willing to
sell them at thirty-seven dollars for picked animals; why, then,
spoil the market by giving fifty? It is urged that we are in
want of mules, and that, by offering even more than they ask,
we shall induce them to send in larger quantities; but I cannot
agree that it is so. We were before paying 700 per cent
more than their ordinary price, and this would be sufficient
temptation to owners of any mules within a hundred miles—and
good mules are not common—to have brought them in.
Every mule fit for the purpose would have come in, and by
paying 900 per cent we can obtain no more. One source of
irritation has been, I am happy to say, if not put down, at
least rebuked. After the parade the other day the Commander-in-chief
rode to the church, attended by most of the
mounted officers. The usual demand of a dollar a-head was
made, which Sir Robert very properly refused to pay, and
through the interpreter said a few appropriate words to the
priest as to money-changers in the temple. He refused, he
said, upon that ground to allow the charge of a dollar a-head
to be paid, but promised that upon his return from Magdala
he would present an altar-cloth at the church.
I have not mentioned that oxen, for which even at the
enormously-enhanced prices at Senafe we paid six and a-half
dollars, are here charged sixteen and seventeen dollars; and
this with the plains in many cases containing thousands upon
thousands. Of course it is a great question as to how far
we ought to put up with such extortion as this. It is certain
that the French, under similar circumstances, would not do
so; but then the success of the French against native populations
has not upon the whole been brilliant; their case
therefore is no argument in its favour. If we chose to take
what we required, and to offer in payment the fair country
price, or even its double, of course we could do so, and could
thrash all Tigre if necessary; but, putting it in the mere pecuniary
light, would it pay? Much as I hate extortion,
dearly as I should like to punish the nation of thieves through
whom we are passing, I yet do not think it would pay. It
is hard to be cheated by a half-naked savage; but it is better
to put up with it than to undergo the amount of labour,
anxiety, and loss which savages could in our present circumstances
entail upon us. They are at present driving a thriving
trade by selling us part of the roofs of their houses. This
sounds strange, but is absolutely the fact. Between this and
Senafe—a distance of forty miles—not a single tree is to be
met with which could be used for telegraph-poles: the engineers
were completely at a nonplus. At last we struck
upon the expedient of buying poles from the natives, and an
offer was made to give them a dollar for every six poles.
Since then Mr. Speedy, who has undertaken the negotiation,
has a complete levée of natives with poles. These poles are
perfectly straight, and must be fourteen feet long; they are
slight, much slighter than ordinary English hop-poles, and
they are very thin towards the upper extremity. The natives
use them for the roofs of their houses; but where they get
them from, or what tree furnishes them, is at present a mystery;
certainly I have seen no tree since my arrival in this
country which grows at all in the same way. Some of these
poles look freshly cut, but others are old and have evidently
been used in the roofs of houses. They would not be nearly
strong enough for an ordinary telegraph-wire, but can easily
enough carry the fine copper-wire used here.
Mr. Speedy has been requested by the Commander-in-chief
to wear the native attire; and his appearance, although
no doubt very imposing to the native mind, is yet extremely
comic to a European eye. Imagine a gentleman six feet
and a half high, with spectacles, wearing a red handkerchief
over his head, and shading himself with a native straw umbrella.
Round his neck he wears the fur collar with tails, to
which I have already alluded as part of a chief’s insignia;
over his shoulders is the native white-cloth wrapping, with
red ends; below this is a long coloured-silk garment; and
below all this the British trousers and boots. Mr. Speedy is
a capital fellow, and a general favourite with everyone; but
his appearance at present is almost irresistibly inducive of
laughter.
The climate of this place is as near perfection as possible.
It is not so hot as Senafe during the day, although even here
in a single bell-tent the thermometer registered 110° to-day at
eleven o’clock. But there is almost always a fresh breeze;
and excepting from nine to twelve, when the wind generally
drops, it is never too hot for walking. At night it is not so
cold as at Senafe; for although the glass goes down to 36° or
37°, there is no wind at night and very little dew, so that one
does not feel the cold as one did at Senafe. It is really a
delightful climate; and although 110° in a tent sounds hot,
the sensation of heat is nothing approaching that of a sultry
July day in England. There is no game here, with the exception
of hares, which are very plentiful. Major Fanshawe,
of the 33d, went out the other afternoon with his gun, and
returned in a couple of hours with a bag of nineteen hares,
an almost unprecedented amount of sport for two hours’
shooting in an unpreserved country. The natives bring in
leopard-skins for sale: where they shoot them I cannot say.
They do not find any purchasers, for the amount of baggage
allowed is so small, and will be smaller beyond Antalo, that
no one will burden themselves with a pound of unnecessary
weight.
The 33d went forward three days ago, and Sir Robert
Napier himself starts for Antalo on the 17th instant. If the
4th regiment arrive in time they will accompany him. I
close my letter rather hastily, as I have just heard there is
a mail expected to go three days before the regular packet.
The Commander-in-chief has, since he started from the
sea, shown every desire to forward our objects in every way.
We were invited to be present at the reception of the Tigre
ambassador, and Sir Robert very kindly sent in a précis of the
information received from Magdala. I am very glad, for the
sake of my readers as well as myself, that in future I shall
have no fear of either being kept in the dark or of being debarred
from accompanying any expedition which may be on
foot. I am still more glad to be able to say that the position
of the foreign commissioners has been also improved.
They are now all forward here, and one of the Prussian officers
has been placed upon the Chief’s personal staff. This is much
more as it should be. Now that we are fairly moving forward,
bets are being freely exchanged as to the date of our arrival at
Magdala. The first of May is the favourite time. I hardly
think we shall be there as soon as that, but must delay the
discussion of the pros and cons until my next.
Attegrat, February 17th.
Since I sent my letter off three days ago, nothing has
occurred of any great importance; at the same time there
is scarce a day passes here without some event of more or less
interest taking place. A wing and the head-quarters of the
4th regiment have marched in, and have taken the place of
the 33d regiment. The Beloochees are here, and a portion of
these have already pushed on to improve the road. On the
15th we had quite a sensation in camp. Two elephants arrived,
and 2000 or 3000 of the natives flocked around in a
very few minutes. At first they kept at a prudent distance,
but, emboldened by the sight of the Europeans standing round
and giving the animals pieces of biscuit, they gradually closed
in, and talked in tones of admiration and wonder, showing
all their white teeth, as is their custom. Presently, however,
one of the elephants, not approving of all this hubbub, wheeled
suddenly round, his trunk high in the air, and trumpeting
loudly. An instant scattering of the natives took place, the
crowd flying in all directions as if an infernal-machine had
exploded in their midst. They gradually reassembled, but
never again ventured to get within familiar distance of the
elephants. Yesterday the G-14 battery of Artillery arrived,
and created an admiration among the natives that our mountain
guns had quite failed to arouse. The guns are twelve-pounders,
and have been brought as far as this upon their
wheels, a fact which speaks equally for the practicability of
the road and for the energy and perseverance of its officers
and men. In many places the guns had to leave the road,
and to be hauled up difficulties with tackle and handspikes.
At the descent into this valley, which I described in a former
letter, the road cut along the face of the hill was not
of sufficient width for the wheels, and the guns had to be
lowered down the steep descent into the valley bottom with
tackle. Three hours were occupied in getting the six guns
down. They will probably go no further than Antalo upon
their carriages, but three will be thence taken on upon elephants;
the other three will, at any rate for the present, remain
here. This camp is in process of being turned into an
entrenched position. The lines have been laid out by Major
Pritchard of the Engineers, and the 4th are at present at
work upon them. That regiment moves on to-morrow, but
the next which takes its place in camp will continue the work.
The entrenchments do not include the whole of the present
camp, as the number of men permanently stationed here will,
of course, be much smaller than at present. The lines will
surround the commissariat stores and a portion of the water-pools;
they also run round the summit of a steep shelf of
rocks in the rear of the camp, and which, when thus strengthened,
might be defended by 200 men against 500 similarly
armed and disciplined, and therefore against any number of
Abyssinians whatever. Even now that we have a strong
force here, the people are exceedingly bumptious, and I have
little doubt that there will be some row of greater or less importance
when they see only a small body of troops stationed
here.
Scarcely a day passes that they do not raise their war-cry
about something or other. Some of the squabbles arise about
our cutting grass; others about wood; others about their insisting
upon wandering through the camp; and blows have
been exchanged with fists and sticks upon all these and
several other points. The noble Abyssinian is quite ready to
cut and sell us any quantity of hay, and to charge us an exceedingly-remunerative
price for the same. But although we
have promised, and, indeed, have paid, a round sum for the
privilege, they object strongly to our own men cutting hay,
although it is of no use whatever to themselves. Consequently,
a guard is always obliged to be sent on with the main body of
grass-cutters. Any small parties who may go out in search
of forage nearer to the camp than the regular grass plains are
warned off, and driven back by the natives. There have been
numerous rows on this score, and in some cases the natives
have actually set fire to the grass rather than allow us to cut
it. If they dared they would not allow a blade of grass to be
cut except by themselves. The same questions arise as to
wood. They will bring in large quantities of firewood themselves
for sale, but they very strongly object to our men
collecting it themselves, although there is not, of course, a shadow
of pretence to say that our collecting dry wood can in any way
damage them. There was a great hullabaloo yesterday on this
subject. Two men had gone out for dry wood, and a priest
and two or three natives came out and ordered them away.
The priest told them that the grove where they were collecting
the wood was sacred, and therefore they must not take
it. The men of course did not understand a word he said,
and expressed their determination to carry off their wood.
He then called upon them as Christians to desist, and the
men, being Hindoos, made some gestures of contempt or
abhorrence at the name of Christians. An attack was then
made upon them; but many of these Syces are remarkably
strong, active fellows, and in a very short time the Abyssinians
found that they had met with much more than their
match. They set up their rallying-cry, and a number more
natives hurried up, and the Hindoos would have got the
worst of it had not another grass-cutter come up with a gun.
The Hindoos then retired, followed by a crowd of enraged
Abyssinians. When they reached the camp the Abyssinians
attempted to follow them in, and blows had to be freely exchanged
before the point of their exclusion was maintained.
The priest alone was admitted, and instead of conducting
himself quietly he ran about shouting and gesticulating until
one of the camp policemen seized him, and, after a struggle,
made him a prisoner. When Sir Robert Napier, who was
out riding, came into camp, he investigated the whole matter;
and, finding that the Syces had been in the wrong by insulting
the religion of the people, he ordered them to have a
dozen lashes each. But here the Abyssinians really showed
themselves to be Christians, for the priest and his witnesses,
all of whom bore marks of having suffered in the skirmish,
knelt down, and said they would not rise unless the culprits
were forgiven, which accordingly they were. This certainly
was a remarkable trait. Here were men who conceived that
themselves and their religion had been insulted, and who had
certainly been well thrashed, really and truly, while their
wounds were still fresh, asking forgiveness for their foes. I
fancy very few European Christians would have done it. It is
pleasant to find a redeeming-point in the character of this
nation of extortioners. It is also to be said for them that
they are a very merry people, and are constantly on a broad
grin. Quarrels among themselves are extremely rare; at
least, I have not heard a single dispute since I arrived in this
country.
The Abyssinians, too, are men with a strong sporting
tendency. They bet freely on the speed of a horse or the
accuracy of their aim. They bet, too, with conditions under
which very few Englishmen would make a wager. They
choose a judge, and the judge, whoever wins, takes the stakes,
the loser of course paying. This system of betting, where one
may lose and cannot win, is, as far as I am aware, without a
precedent, and would do more, if introduced into England, to
put down gambling than all the laws that Parliament could
pass would do in a hundred years. Another thing to be said
for them is that those who know them most like them best,
and a stronger argument in their favour than this could
hardly be used. Still, undoubtedly, they are fond of fighting,
partly perhaps for its own sake, and partly because it would
be manifestly impossible for them to put the whole of the
hard work of the place on the shoulders of the women and
children upon the plea of being warriors, and therefore
privileged to do nothing, unless they really did do a little fighting
occasionally.
This morning there was another row, which at one time
really threatened to come to fighting. One of the natives
came inside our lines when the men were at work upon the
entrenchments. The policeman—a soldier armed with a
stick—warned him back; but he refused to go. Having
spoken several times, the sentry pushed him. Whereupon
the native drew his sword and rushed upon the soldier, who
met him, however, with a tremendous blow of his stick, which
knocked him backwards into the ditch with a broken head.
The man set up his war-cry, and the natives flocked up,
shouting and brandishing their spears. They refused to retire
when ordered by the officer to do so, and continued to threaten
an attack until Colonel Cameron ordered fifty of his men
to load and fix bayonets, and told the natives that unless they
retired he should order his men to advance. This was sufficient;
and the place was speedily cleared. These little
fracas, although trifling in themselves, sufficiently show that
the natives are an extremely independent race, and are quite
ready for a fight upon the smallest provocation. At present
we are so strong as to render any open attack upon their
part a hopeless proceeding; but when this post is left with
only four or five hundred men I should not be at all surprised
if the natives came to blows with us upon some trifling matter
or other. The three cannon which are to be left here will no
doubt have a salutary effect. The natives are astonished at
them, and say that they are much bigger than those of
Theodore.
Three of the officers of the 4th regiment saw, the other
day, at Fokado, an operation which was described by Bruce,
but which has been denied by all subsequent travellers, and
by the Abyssinians themselves. This was the operation of
cutting a steak from the body of a living ox. They came
upon the natives just as they were in the act of performing
it. The unfortunate bullock was thrown down, and its four
legs were tied together. The operator then cut an incision in
the skin near the spine, just behind the hip-joint. He blew
into this to separate the skin from the flesh, and then cut two
other incisions at right angles to the first, and then lifted a
flap of skin four or five inches square. From this he cut out
a lump of flesh, cutting with the knife under the skin, so that
the amount of flesh taken out was larger than the portion uncovered.
The operator then filled up the hole with cow-dung,
replaced the flap of skin, plastered it up with mud,
untied the feet of the poor animal, which had kept up a low
moaning while the operation was going on, gave it a kick to
make it get up, and the whole thing was over. I should
mention that the operator cut two or three gashes in the
neighbourhood of the wound, apparently as a sign that the
animal had been operated upon in that part. The officers
observed that several of the other cattle of the same herd
were marked in a precisely similar manner. They returned
in half an hour, and found the animal walking about and
feeding quietly. I have not mentioned that it bled very
little at the time the operation was being performed. It certainly
is very singular that, after so many years, Bruce’s
story, which has been always considered as a traveller’s tale,
should have been confirmed. All travellers have denied it.
Mr. Speedy, who was a year among them, tells us that he
never saw or heard of its being done, and that the Abyssinians,
of whom he had inquired respecting the truth of Bruce’s
statement, had always most indignantly denied it, and indeed
had asserted that it would be entirely contrary to their religion,
for that they strictly keep the Mosaic law, to eat no
meat unless the throat of the animal had been cut and the
blood allowed to escape. Anatomists have denied the possibility
of an animal when such an operation had been performed
being able to walk afterwards. Here, however, was
the indisputable fact. The operation was performed, and the
ox did walk afterwards. It is true that it might not have been
done by Abyssinians proper. The party may have been some
wandering tribe belonging to the low country who might have
come up for trading purposes. It is very unfortunate that
neither Mr. Speedy nor any of the interpreters were at hand
to find out the exact tribe to which these savages belonged.
I am unable to give you any reliable account of Major
Grant’s visit to the King of Tigre. He was, I know, hospitably
received, and the horsemen of the King performed
various feats, such as riding in and out between poles, and
cutting at them; but I am unable to say more, as Sir Robert
Napier, no doubt for some good reason of which I am ignorant,
refused to allow us to see Major Grant’s report, or to
have a précis of it given to us. It is still reported that the
King himself is coming to meet the General, and a place
two days on our march towards Antalo is mentioned as the
appointed place. We even hear that the King has set out
from Adowa for that spot; but I confess that until I see his
sable Majesty I shall not have much faith in his coming.
Still, these very slippery men always do exactly the thing
which one would expect that they would not do; and on this
theory only it is quite possible that Kassa may appear in
propriâ personâ. If he does come it will no doubt be a very
much more stately affair than the pantomime I described in
my last letter, and I hope that our elephants and cannon will
open his Majesty’s eyes to the fact that we are a people whom
it would be vastly safer to leave alone.
I have been over to-day to the weekly fair at Attegrat.
I was also there last Monday, but had no space to give to its
description in my last letter. A more amusing sight I have
seldom or never seen. Some two or three thousand people
must have been present. The fair or market, as I suppose it
should be called, is held upon a flat rocky slope on the other
side of the village, and this is packed so close that one moves
about among the squatting and standing groups with difficulty.
At one end is the cattle-fair. The number each
grazier brings into market is not large (seldom over two or
three), and there they stand in little quiet groups surrounded
by their master and several of his friends, and submitting to
be felt, pinched, and examined as well as the best-behaved
English cow would do. Here, too, are the donkeys, sturdy
little beasts, not much bigger than a Newfoundland dog, but
which will carry nearly as great a weight as a mule. I
wonder our Transport Corps does not buy a lot of them for
carrying commissariat stores. They will take two bags each,
that is 150 pounds’ weight, and require no saddles, for the
bags are merely laid upon their broad little backs and strapped
there with a few strips of hide; they require no grain, and
very little hay, and cost only five or six dollars. Any number
of them might be purchased. These, like the oxen, stand
very quietly, and appear perfectly indifferent as to any possible
change in their ownership. They not unfrequently have
young ones by their side, little round rough beasts with disproportionately-long
ears and shaggy coats. The goats
appear to take matters with less indifference. Their masters
endeavour to keep them in little circles, with their heads
towards the centre; but they are continually trying to escape
from this arrangement, and to make a bolt for it. They
keep up a constant bleating as a protest against the whole
proceeding. Near to them is the grain-market. Here are
men and women with their grain-bags, made of skins of
goats sewn up, and with only an opening at the neck. They
sit about everywhere, while the buyers walk about among
them and inspect the samples with a gravity and intentness
which would do no discredit to Mark-lane. Their purchases
probably will not exceed two or three pounds’ weight, but
they are as careful over the matter as a brewer would be who
was going to make a bid for a ship’s cargo. The grain is
almost entirely barley, and splendid barley too. There are
beside, however, a variety of other grain, of which I do not
know the names. The natives distil a spirit from their barley,
which is said to be something between gin and hollands in
flavour. I have not yet tasted any. Very thick is the throng
round a Parsee belonging to the commissariat, who is buying
up all he can get for Government at a dollar for nineteen
pounds. Near him is another little crowd: here another
commissariat employé is similarly engaged in buying up ghee—that
is, clarified or boiled butter—for the native troops. It
does not look very nice, and what does not make the sight
the pleasanter is, that the women, when they have emptied
the jars into the commissariat casks, invariably wipe them out
with their hands, and then plaster the remainder upon their
heads. An Abyssinian does not consider himself properly
dressed unless his hair is shining with oil, not put on or
rubbed on, but plastered on, and running down his neck as
the sun melts it. The idea is not, according to our notions,
pleasant, but it is a matter of taste. When an Abyssinian
really wants to make a great effect he uses butter, not ghee, and
puts it on until his head is as white as that of a London footman.
Then he is conscious that he has indeed done it, and walks
with a dignity befitting his appearance. There were several
swells of the period so got up at the market, and as they stood
under the shelter of their straw umbrellas—for the sun would
melt it and destroy the whole effect—I could not but wonder
at and admire the different forms which human vanity takes.
Further on was the cloth mart. Here were women and
men selling the black blankets which almost all women here
wear, in addition to the ornamented skins, which form the
only garments of the Senafe women. These blankets, which
are very large, are worn wrapped round the body, and
secured on one shoulder by a large iron pin. The blankets are
coarse and thin, and have but little warmth. Officers have,
however, bought large numbers for their servants, who feel
the cold at night much. When we are stationary for a few
days the followers construct some sort of tents with gunny-bags
and clothes, but upon the march they have, of course,
to sleep in the open air. Near to the vendors of blankets
for the women are the sellers of the white-cotton cloth for
the men. These are always men; I have seen no women
engaged in selling cloth. I have no doubt they carry it to
the market, but the men take the sale into their own hands.
This is, perhaps, the busiest part of the fair. But beyond
this we come to the largest and by far the most amusing
portion of all. This is the miscellaneous market. Vegetables
and herbs occupy by far the largest share of this.
Here are women and girls with herbs of every sort and
kind, of very few indeed of which I had any previous knowledge.
Here, too, are women with tobacco, very coarse, and
broken up roughly, instead of being cut. The tobacco, of
course, is carried in the skins, which appear to be the receptacles
for everything in this country. Here are men
with salt, in shape and appearance exceedingly like a
mower’s whetstone. These serve as money, and are laid
out upon the ground at so many for a dollar, but if the
salesman sees a European approaching he will abstract a
portion, and demand a dollar for less than half of the number
which should be given for that amount. Here are men
selling the blue string, which all Christians wear round their
neck in token of their faith. Here are men selling the
great iron pins, with a rough attempt at ornament upon
their heads, which all women use to fasten their blankets
upon their shoulders. Here are women with strings of
beads, and pumpkins, and watercresses, and dried herbs, and
chillies, and honey, and garlic, and potatoes, and young
onions for sale. A miscellaneous catalogue, and sold quite
as miscellaneously, for the goods are sold by barter more
than for money, and each vendor will bring in half-a-dozen
small baskets, which she places before her to contain the
various articles which she may receive in exchange. Thus,
for her beads she may get some grain, a few bulbs of garlic,
and a bar or two of salt. Some of these, again, she will
barter for a pumpkin, a chicken, and some dried herbs; and
so the commerce is carried on. Imagine a large number of
these dark-faced, scantily-dressed people, very grave over
their purchases, but very merry, as is their wont, in their
conversation with each other, the men generally walking
about, the women squatting behind their wares, always in
groups, and laughing, chattering, and looking after their
children—strange little potbellied black figures, with half of
their heads shaved, and their sole garment a very small
piece of goatskin on their shoulder. Some of the girls are,
as I have already said, really pretty, with beautiful brown
eyes. They have no objection to be looked at and admired.
They pretend, of course, to be very shy, and half hide their
faces, and look the other way; but really are very amused
and a good deal gratified when a European pauses to look at
them. It is singular how similar is the constitution of the
female mind in savage and in civilised countries. An
English beauty certainly does not betray any consciousness
of being looked at and admired, excepting, of course, if she
be a milkmaid; but she is no doubt equally conscious, and
perhaps just as pleased—except that the sensation is more a
matter of course—as is the dark-eyed and dark-skinned
Abyssinian girl sitting in her scanty leathern garment and
shell-ornamented wrapper in the market at Attegrat.
I do not know when the rainy season begins; indeed, it
is a moot point, authorities varying in their dates from April
to July; but I know we had a thunderstorm here the other
day which nearly washed us out of camp. It began at three
o’clock in the afternoon, and found us quite unprepared, as
we have had so many threatening-looking skies that we had
ceased to believe in rain. However, this time there was no
mistake about it. It came up in a dense black cloud from
behind the mountain beyond Attegrat. The thunder roared,
the lightning was for a while terrific, and for about an hour
a tremendous storm of rain and hail poured down upon us.
Being an old campaigner, one of my first cares upon pitching
my tent had been to have a trench dug round it; but very
many officers, relying upon the fine weather, had neglected
taking this precaution. Knowing what the state of things
would be, immediately the rain ceased I sallied out. The
camp was completely under water. As I have mentioned in
a former letter, it is pitched upon the gradual slope of a hill,
and down this slope a perfect stream of water came nearly
two inches deep. As the rain held up, a few figures might
be observed peering out of their tents to examine the skies,
and as soon as it was quite certain that the rain was over,
the camp, which had five minutes before appeared perfectly
deserted, was like an ant-hill suddenly disturbed. Great was
the devastation the flood had wrought. Through many of the
tents it had swept in a flood two inches deep, soaking everything
placed upon the ground. Here we saw the servants
bringing out a bed, which, having been placed upon the
ground, was drenched with water; here was another party
bringing out hay with which some particular man had carefully
carpeted his tent; here was an officer emptying out his
trunks to see if the things at the bottom had suffered. As I
wandered about I met Major Minion, the principal commissariat-officer
here. He was hastening to the Chief for authority
to issue first-class flour instead of second to the troops,
as a great deal of the first quality had got wetted, and must
be issued at once to prevent its being spoiled. Of course the
native followers and others who had no tents suffered most
of all; and the camp in a short time presented the appearance
of undergoing a general washing-day, so many were the
garments hung out to dry. Of course, in accordance with
the old proverb of shutting the door after the horse was
stolen, there was at once a great demand for picks and
shovels, and everyone who had not already done so set to
work at digging a trench round their tents. The night after
the storm was much less cold than the preceding one had
been, and the whole country looks fresher and brighter for
the washing. And now as to our most absorbing topic, the
advance. It takes place positively to-morrow. Sir Robert Napier
himself goes on, and is accompanied by the Artillery, 3d
Native Cavalry, five companies of the 4th King’s Own, and the
remaining three companies of the 10th Native Infantry. The
Beloochees were also to have gone forward, but there is not
sufficient transport, and they will follow in a day or two.
The little party of Engineers also go forward with the photographic
and signalling apparatus. The two elephants will
also form part of the train. The march hence to Antalo is
eight days’ journey, which are divided as follows: Mai Wahiz,
13 miles; Ad Abaga, 15; Dongolo, 12; Agula, 14; Dowlo,
19; Haig Kullat, 9; Afzool, 9; Antalo, 5: total, 96 miles.
Colonel Phayre, who has again gone ahead, reports that the
road presents no great difficulties; but it does not appear as
if the first day’s march were by any means an easy business,
for the baggage-guard of the 33d regiment, which left here
at nine o’clock in the morning, did not arrive at its destination
until six o’clock on the following morning. The Commander-in-chief
rode out next day, and found the road really
impracticable at two or three places. He was exceedingly
angry that the corps which has gone ahead nominally to
make this road should have left it in such a state. A party
of the Beloochees were at once set on, and it is to be hoped
that by to-morrow they will have made it passable. The
party of Bombay Sappers and Miners, who have done such
good work in the pass, have gone on to-day, with instructions
to keep a day’s march ahead of the Chief. They will improve,
as far as they can, any very difficult places; but as they will
have to progress as fast as the troops, they will of course be
able to do very little. The last two days’ march even Colonel
Phayre reports to be exceedingly difficult, as, instead of the
flat sheets of sandstone over which much of the preceding
day’s journey passes, we here have to cross sheets of bare
limestone, upon which horses can stand with difficulty. He
states that it will be necessary to strew soil or sand upon
the rocks to make them at all passable. It is evident, therefore,
that we shall have some serious difficulties to encounter
even between this and Antalo; still, we may expect to be at
that town by the end of the month. From thence to Magdala
it is 160 miles, or thereabouts; for it is impossible to reckon
within twenty miles in a country where the mountains and
gorges necessitate such constant windings. I mentioned in
my last letter that bets were freely offered and taken that
we arrive at Magdala by the 15th of April. The whole question
is one of provision and transport; and the most casual
examination of the question will show that it will be a very
long time before the provision for the onward march can be
collected at Antalo. I related in my letters a month since
how hard a task it was to feed the troops at Senafe and along
the pass, and to accumulate provisions in our advance to
Attegrat. Senafe is only five days’ march from Zulla;
Antalo is sixteen; and, allowing for the mules to stop one
day at Senafe, and one at Attegrat, to rest, which would
be absolutely necessary, it is eighteen days from Zulla. We
shall have twice as many troops to feed at Antalo as we had
at Senafe; and as it is three times as long a journey, it will
require six times as many transport-animals to feed the troops
at Antalo now to what were required to feed the former force
at Senafe. In addition to this, we shall have a body of
troops at Attegrat, and another at Senafe, to feed. The
Transport Train is more efficient now than it was a month
since, but it is not greatly more numerous, as the number
of fresh arrivals is almost balanced by the number of mules
going daily into hospital, broken down with over-work, bad
feeding, and sore backs brought on by the pack-saddles.
The fact of the road being now practicable for carts to Senafe,
is also an assistance to the Transport Train; but I confess that
I cannot see how they will manage to provision all the line,
much less to accumulate stores. It is, we have just seen,
eighteen days from Zulla to Antalo. Supposing that the
mules go regularly up and down, stopping two days at
each end to rest, it will take them forty days to make the
circuit. Putting the number of available transport-animals
at 16,000, which is over the mark, there would be only four
hundred a-day to start from the sea-coast. When it is remembered
that these four hundred animals would have to
carry their own food for those places at which grain cannot
be obtained, that they have to carry the rations for their
drivers for the forty days, that they have to provision the
different minor posts, together with Senafe and Attegrat,
it will be seen that the quantity of provisions which will
reach Antalo daily will be by no means excessive. And yet,
before we can move forward from Antalo, on a journey which,
going and returning, and with a pause of a week at Magdala,
can hardly be calculated as under two months, we must have
accumulated there a sufficient amount of provisions for the
whole time we may be absent; and this not only for the
troops and animals who go, but for the force which will
remain there during our absence. We must also have a
supply accumulated at the posts along the road, as we shall
take so large a portion of the transport-animals in our further
advance, that we must be sure that a stock has accumulated
sufficient to last some time. I hear that the number of mules
which will go forward with us from Antalo will be about
6000, with two months’ provisions for the column and a certain
amount for themselves. Following out the calculation
I have made, we prove mathematically that we never can
accumulate this 6000 mule-loads at Antalo. Mathematical
proofs, fortunately, occasionally are falsified by facts. It was
mathematically proved that no steamer could ever cross the
Atlantic. The feat was, however, somehow accomplished;
and I have no doubt but that, in the teeth of mathematics,
we shall somehow or other accumulate provisions at Antalo,
and shall march on to Magdala; but it must be some time
first. I think the 1st of May to be the very earliest date at
which we can hope to leave Antalo. Of course much will
depend upon the fruitfulness of the country in the immediate
vicinity of that town. If we can only obtain sufficient grain
to feed our animals, and to lay in a store of provender for
them for the advance, it will greatly lessen our difficulties.
As far as we have already come, such has not been the case.
Even the extreme prices we have given have barely purchased
sufficient grain for the daily supply, and animals upon
the route have to be fed upon grain brought from Bombay.
Still, we must hope for better things. The date of our advance
depends almost entirely upon the state of the grain-market
at Antalo. We start to-morrow morning at half-past six, and
that means that we must be up and moving before five. I
must therefore close this letter, but shall write again in time
to save the post from Ad Abaga, where I believe we shall
halt for a day.
Ad Abaga, Feb. 20th.
I cannot say that starting a convoy of baggage-mules off
at half-past six in the morning is a pleasant operation. The
order was that all animals not off by half-past six must wait
until after the departure of the column at seven;
that is,
allowing for delays, that they would not be able to start
until eight. I acceded to the suggestion of my travelling-companion
that we should get our mules off early. At five
we were up, completed our packing, had a cup of chocolate
and a speedy wash, and then struck our tent, which was
wet through with the heavy dew. Folding this up and
getting it into a sack meant to contain it only when dry, was
a long operation, trying to the temper and very destructive
to the finger-nails. However, it and all our final preparations,
including the loading the animals, were completed in
time, and we were fairly en route at twenty minutes past
six. We have long since come to the conclusion that the
only way to get our baggage along is to be our own baggage-guard,
and one or other of us, generally both, accompany
it the whole distance. In this way we got into camp in
the afternoon, from an hour and a half to two hours earlier
than if we had trusted it only to the servants and drivers,
and had we ridden on at our own pace we should only have
had to wait doing nothing, and without a shelter, for three or
four hours. On the present occasion my friend started with
the baggage and I remained behind to see the column start.
It was a pretty sight, and must have astonished the natives
not a little. First came the 3d Native Cavalry, about
three hundred strong, in their soldierly blue-and-silver
uniforms. This regiment has had no easy time of it since their
arrival at Attegrat, for we are exceedingly short of cavalry,
and since the Scinde Horse went on, the 3d have had to
furnish all the guards and escorts. For some days they had
only eighteen men left in camp. I hear that two hundred
horses have arrived at Zulla as remounts in the place of those
they have lost by the disease. The strength of the regiment
will then be raised to its original number of nearly five
hundred sabres. I mentioned in a letter, some time since,
that this regiment had been looked upon with some disfavour
by the authorities for having started from Bombay without
the baggage-animals with which, according to the terms of
their agreement, they should have furnished themselves.
This fault they have done their best to remedy by purchasing
every mule they could get. They have now nearly made up
their number, and upon the present march only had to draw
thirty-five transport-animals, which they hope in a few days
to be able to dispense with. Next to the 3d Native Cavalry
came the Artillery, who had, at the last moment, received
orders to take four guns instead of three. The guns were
all drawn by eight horses. The greater part of the horses of
this battery are very light grays, and two of the guns are
horsed entirely by grays. They are in admirable condition,
and look exceedingly well. Next followed the little party
of Engineers. Behind them came the 4th King’s Own, in
their light-brown, or rather dust-coloured suits, with their
band playing the Red, White, and Blue.
Colonel Cameron
sets an excellent example to his men and officers by having
his horse led, and by always marching at their head. The
line was closed by the 10th Native Infantry, their band playing
Nelly Bligh.
After the troops came the head of a long
line of baggage-animals. Having seen the column pass, I
rode on and rejoined my baggage.
The road, as usual, leads over the plateau, with occasional
steep ascents and descents. Two of these ascents turned out
quite impracticable for artillery, and the road as made reflects
great discredit upon those who went on in command of
the pioneer force to make the way. The roads are made with
short, sharp zigzags, where it is impossible for the horses to
draw. Had not the artillery been accompanied by a strong
force of infantry it would have been impossible to have got
the guns up. As it was, the guns were pulled up the straight
places by the horses aided by the men, and then the horses
were taken out, the guns unlimbered, and the gun was
dragged up first, round the curve, by the infantry with ropes,
and the limbers were taken up afterwards. The work of
getting the guns up one of these ascents occupied over two
hours. Sir R. Napier is naturally extremely angry, as, had
he not been informed by the officer in advance that the road
was perfectly practicable, he would of course have sent on a
strong working-party some days previously. I reached Mai
Wahiz at half-past twelve, the 3d Cavalry having got in
half-an-hour before me. In the afternoon we had another
severe thunderstorm, with heavy rain, which fortunately only
lasted about half-an-hour. Our camp at Mai Wahiz, instead
of being, as usual, on a plain, or rather a slight rise near the
plain, was placed upon a hill. I hear that in future we are
always to encamp on a hill, or at any rate, as far as possible,
in a defensible position. This shows that our Chief places
exceedingly little faith in any protestations the Tigre king
may make, and that he thinks that, even if he does come in
to the durbar at this place, yet that he is not to be trusted
out of sight. Everything at Mai Wahiz is very scarce, and
forage dearer than ever. I had to pay two dollars for about
eighteen pounds of barley for my baggage-animals, that is,
just sixpence a pound. Hay is equally dear. The commissariat
served out no hay to the transport-animals, and
all that they had after a hard day’s work, with the prospect
of another equally hard on the morrow, was three pounds of
grain each.
From the foot of the hill we rode for some distance along
a wide valley, with water in several places, and a good deal
of cultivated ground. Then, after three or four miles of
undulating plain we arrived at our camping-ground at a
little after three o’clock. The natives here must be either
a more warlike people than those whose villages we have
passed since entering the country, or they must have much
more warlike neighbours. For the villages are almost always
surrounded by strong walls, and one or two were perched
on eminences, and defended by walls and towers. One very
curious castle we passed strongly resembling the old baronial
castles one meets with in southern Scotland and the north
of England. This was situated upon the edge of a precipice,
and the rocks went sheer down from three sides of its walls
for fifty or sixty feet. It must be impregnable in a country
like this, where cannon are all but unknown. Another fort,
which certainly looked of European construction, and if not
must unquestionably have been built from a picture of a
European fort, was perched upon the top of the mountain
near where we descended into the valley. The precipice at
its foot was at least a thousand feet down, but curiously
enough the fort was in a sort of hollow, higher rocks at the
distance of only a hundred yards on either side commanding
it. If a European designed it, he certainly did not choose
its position. It was a round fort, of perhaps fifty feet high,
but it was difficult to judge its height from our position on
the plain so much below it. Its diameter was about equal to
its height. It had regular lines of loopholes, and appeared to
have been built by some robber-chief to enable him to swoop
down upon the caravans of traders journeying up and down
the road we had just come. This camp is at about the same
elevation as that at Mai Wahiz, and the climate is even more
charming than that of Attegrat, for the heat is less during
the day, and the cold last night was not at all equal to that
which we experienced there. The on dit is that the King
cannot arrive to-day, but will come to-morrow, and that we
shall move out early and pitch our camp upon a plain six miles
from here, and there receive him properly.
Dongolo, Feb. 26th.
The King of Tigre has turned out to be a living entity
and not a mythical being, as we had begun to consider him.
He was to have paid us a visit at Attegrat, but he sent us an
ambassador in his place, and no one thought that we should
ever hear any more of the King. However, he sent to say
that he would meet us upon a plain near Ad Abaga, and we
journeyed there, rather incredulous but still hopeful. The
King was to have been at the appointed spot upon the day
after we had reached Ad Abaga; but messengers sent out
brought news that, although it was currently reported that
he had started from Adowa, he had certainly not arrived
anywhere in the neighbourhood. As it was most important
that we should see the King, and remain upon friendly terms
with him, and as it was certain that if he had started to meet
us, and found that we had gone on without stopping to see
him, he would feel grievously affronted, the Commander-in-chief
determined to wait. Fortunately, any delay we might
experience could be of no importance to us, as it will be impossible
to move forward from Antalo until a large stock of
provisions are accumulated there, and whether we waited a
week at Ad Abaga or at Antalo was perfectly immaterial. Wait
accordingly we did for three days, before any reliable news
reached us. At last we heard for certain, as we believed,
that the King was at Hanzein, twelve miles off. This was on
Saturday, and the messenger said that of course the King
would not move on Sunday, but that he would come in on
Monday morning to Mai Dehar, the appointed meeting-place.
On Sunday Major Grant, Captain Moore, and Mr. Speedy
set out to meet the King, and accompany him to the meeting-place.
They rode out to Hanzein, and found a considerable
body of armed men there, and some of the princes. They
were told that the King was five miles further on, and five
good miles they rode, and, again inquiring for his Majesty’s
whereabouts, found that the miles must have been Irish ones,
for that the King was still five miles further on. They decided
to return, and at Hanzein had another interview with
the men in authority there. These worthies tried very hard
to induce them to concede, on the part of Sir Robert Napier,
that he would come as far as Hanzein to meet the King.
Their object in this was, of course, to enhance the dignity of
the King in the eyes of his own people, by making us come
as far out of our way as possible to meet him; Major Grant,
however, altogether refused to concede this point. He stated
that we had already waited four days, and that unless the
King moved forward at once, Sir Robert Napier would proceed
upon his journey without seeing him. Major Grant
then started with Major Pritchard of the Engineers, who had
gone out to Hanzein with Lieutenant Morgan and his party
of signallers, to return to camp. As it was dark when they
started, they of course lost their way, and wandered about
for some hours, leading their horses, which had two or three
awkward falls. They arrived in camp at two o’clock in the
morning. They did not pass any of the signallers’ posts on
their way, and consequently Lieutenant Morgan and his men
remained up all night, to flash the news across the hills of
the hour of the King’s starting from Hanzein. Captain
Moore and Mr. Speedy remained at Hanzein until the next
day, and were hospitably, if not agreeably, entertained, with
a repast, consisting of a large dish of half-baked bread, over
which melted fat had been poured with a liberal hand. While
they were occupied in endeavouring to find a morsel less
saturated with fat than the rest, two or three of the chiefs
showed them how the food should be eaten, by thrusting some
exceedingly dirty hands into the mess, rolling up a large ball,
and cramming it into their mouths. Captain Moore underwent
a strong internal struggle, but conquered his desire to
rush into the open air, and nobly shut his eyes and followed
the example. Mr. Speedy—whose residence in Abyssinia has
rendered him the reverse of dainty in matters of food—had
already set-to with the grave complacency of a man who
enjoys his repast.
On Monday a messenger came in who reported that the
King had really arrived at Hanzein, and would come on to
Mai Dehar early next morning. A native in our pay having
verified this report, orders were issued for a move at daylight
the next morning. The party was to consist of the four guns
of Murray’s battery, a squadron of 3d Native Cavalry, four
companies of the 4th Regiment, one company of the 10th
Native Infantry, the party of Engineers with their signalling
and photographing apparatus, and two elephants. Although
Mai Dehar was only five miles off, the troops were ordered to
take their tents and baggage, as it was uncertain at what hour
the proceedings might be over; and as the next march on to
this place was only ten miles, they would be able to march
straight through the next day, and would therefore lose no
time by sleeping at Mai Dehar.
By seven o’clock we were all out of Ad Abaga, and by
half-past nine the tents were pitched at Mai Dehar, which
was not more than a four-mile march distant. Mai Dehar
is a basin of about half a mile in diameter, with gradually-sloping
sides, and possesses no picturesque effect whatever.
A small stream runs through it, and the whole basin is covered
with a long thick growth of hay. Orders were at once
issued that no fires should be lighted or pipes allowed until
the grass was all cut in the immediate vicinity of the tents,
and for some little distance round the horses. This, of course,
was a work which occupied some time; and at about eleven,
before the fires were fairly alight, Mr. Speedy, who had gone
straight on to meet the King, rode into camp with news that
he had left him half an hour before, and that in a very few
minutes he would arrive. In ten minutes a dark mass of
figures showed upon the crest of the opposite rise of the
valley, and presently a tent of bright scarlet colour rose in
their midst, and showed that the King was present among
them. Mr. Speedy again rode off to say that the
Commander-in-chief would move forward to meet him in an hour. By
that time the men had breakfasted, and at half-past twelve,
when the bugle sounded the assembly, all were ready for any
work they might be called on to do. They were formed in line
a few hundred yards behind the tent, which had been pitched
near the little stream for the durbar. Major Grant, Captain
Moore, and Mr. Speedy now rode forward again towards the
King’s tent, accompanied by an escort of 3d Native Cavalry.
Several officers who were not on duty, but who had come
over on leave from the camp at Ad Abaga, also rode upon
the flank of the cavalry, and among them I took my place.
The native army was ranged in line on both sides of the
royal tent; they were not formed in any regular order, but
stood thickly together, with the extremities of their line advanced
in the form of the crescent of a young moon. There
was no pressing or noise; all stood perfectly quiet as we advanced,
and it was evident at once that we were in the presence
of a greatly more formidable body of men than we had
given Abyssinia credit for possessing. The only sound that
broke the silence was the beating of a number of drums. These
I afterwards had an opportunity of examining, and found them
to be of the same shape, and as nearly as possible the same size,
as our own kettledrums. Instead of being of metal, they were
of thin wood, and were covered with skins with the hair on in
the place of parchment. They were carried one on each side
of a mule. There were six mules so laden, and the drums
were beaten, some with small sticks, some with large and
heavy ones. These last served as big drums, and kept time
to the constant beating of the small ones. They played a sort
of tune which, if rather monotonous, was by no means unmusical.
The principal drummer had a red umbrella held
over his head—a distinction enjoyed by no other person
except his Majesty himself. When we had arrived within
forty or fifty yards of the King’s tent we halted. Major
Grant and his party alighted from their horses and entered
the royal tent, and the cavalry were drawn up in line parallel
to the road the King would pass down on his way to the
stream. Major Grant’s mission was to inform the King that
Sir Robert Napier was ready, and would advance to meet
him as soon as he saw the King had left his tent. Some
personages in authority now gave some orders, and a body
of four or five hundred men took their places a short distance
in front of the royal tent. Some of these men were on foot,
some mounted; the great majority were armed with guns of
some kind, and in addition carried shield and sword. The
remainder had lances. There was a far greater variety of
costume, and much more brilliancy of colour, among their
body than we had any notion of seeing in Abyssinia. The
majority, of course, had the whitey-brown cotton cloth of the
country, with generally the red ends and fur tippets with
long ends which are distinctive of a warrior of rank. Many,
too, had a lion’s mane over their shoulders, which is a sign
that they have slain many enemies in battle. Very many
too had on long shirts of state, reaching to the knees, and
made of richly-brocaded silks, generally green, blue, or
red, with yellow flowers. Some, the greatest dandies of all,
wore mantles of velvet, violet being the prevailing colour.
These reached a little below the waist, and were then cut
into long tails of peculiar pattern, which, moreover, was
always similar. These, who gave orders, and who were
probably generals, were not bareheaded, as were all the rest
of the Abyssinians, but had a coloured silk-handkerchief over
and around the head, Bedouin fashion, and falling down upon
the neck, with a sort of fillet or coronet of metal, which
looked like tin, but may have been silver, round their foreheads.
Of this body, which was evidently composed of chiefs
and warriors of distinction, about equal numbers were mounted
and on foot. Very many of the mules carried double, which
is here considered by no means an infra-dig. method of travelling.
In front of this body of men the band of drums took
up their station, and in the rear five or six men blowing an
instrument somewhat resembling a clarionet in appearance,
except that it has only one note. Some of them were, however,
pitched a tone above the others, so that the general
result, although not so musical as that of the drums, was
yet not discordant.
The King now came out of his tent, and mounted a mule.
A dozen or so princes and personal attendants rode or walked
near him, and two attendants walked one on each side, leaning
against the mule, and supporting him, as it were, in his
saddle. One held a large Magenta-silk umbrella over the
King’s head. Kassa is a man of seven or eight and twenty.
He was plainly dressed in a swathing of native cloth, the
only distinction between himself and an ordinary warrior
being that, in place of a broad scarlet end, it had a sort
of Cashmere pattern. The princes had similar borders to
their robes. The King wore a fur tippet, and the cloth was
wrapped round and round him, so that his arms were not
visible, and he looked a mere bunch as he sat upon his mule.
The cloth was brought up round his chin and mouth. He
was bareheaded; his hair was plaited in lines from the forehead
to the back of the head, in the peculiar manner I have
before described, and which exactly resembles that upon some
of the Assyrian wall-paintings in the British Museum. These
plaits are each tied at the end, and form a little bunch of tails
at the back of the neck. Kassa has a mild and rather irresolute
face, and was evidently nervous at the unaccustomed
ceremony he was about to go through. I believe that his
face does not belie his character, and that he is quite guided
by three or four of his principal advisers. Puppet kings are
not confined to Abyssinia. Major Grant rode by the side
of the King, and conversed with him through the medium
of Mercher, the interpreter. The mule ridden by the King,
and those of the principal personages, all had the gay green-and-red
embossed leather trappings I described as adorning
the mule ridden by the ambassador who came in to Attegrat.
There were several priests in the train, distinguished as usual
by their turbans and the whiteness of their robes. In my
description of the King’s dress I have said nothing of his
leggings or shoes, for the reason that he, as well as everyone
of his nation, had bare legs and feet. Immediately the
King had started, I closed-in with the unattached officers
behind him, and the 3d Native Cavalry came on behind us.
In the rear of them, and keeping a perfect line, came the
main body of native troops—horsemen in front, footmen behind
them. The whole effect was extremely picturesque, and,
as seen from the opposite side of the valley, must have been
most striking. As soon as we were in motion, we saw Sir
Robert Napier approaching from the opposite camp. He
rode in a howdah upon an elephant with scarlet trappings;
behind followed the other elephant, and his staff rode around
him. The troops remained in a line at some little distance
in rear of the durbar tent, the 10th Native Infantry being
drawn up as a guard of honour in front of the tent. When
we were about three-quarters of the distance down the slope
upon our side of the hill, the body-guard in front of the King
halted, and fell back upon each side, leaving a road, through
which the King and his personal following rode. The 3d
Native Cavalry followed, but the natives formed line again
in the rear and halted. Sir Robert Napier arrived first at
the stream, but the elephant refused to cross, and the General
then alighted and mounted his horse, and again advanced to
meet the King, who had by this time crossed the stream.
Sir Robert and the King shook hands, and then rode together
to the durbar tent. There everyone dismounted, and
as many as the tent would accommodate entered. I was
fortunate enough to be one of these. The King and the
Commander-in-chief took seats in two chairs. Five of the
principal princes sat upon the ground. The King’s shield-and-spear-bearer
stood behind him, and several other native
attendants stood near. About a dozen European officers
ranged themselves round the sides of the tent. At the moment
of entering the tent, the guard of honour and the
artillery fired a salute, which caused a great commotion
among the horses, and I have no doubt rather startled and
alarmed the King of Tigre’s army, which had all remained
upon the other side of the stream. Throughout the day the
greatest discipline prevailed upon this point, not a single
man crossing the stream, with the exception only of the
King’s personal attendants.
The conversation between Sir Robert Napier and the King
was interpreted by Mercher and by his brother, who formed
part of the King’s retinue. Both these brothers are Tigre
chiefs, who were curiously enough sent to Bombay to be educated,
and to learn the English language. The conversation
was of the most formal kind. Sir Robert expressed his hope
that the King was not fatigued with his journey. The King
replied that he was never tired when he came to see his friends.
Here the conversation languished a little, and then Sir Robert
expressed the pleasure that we English, who sent missionaries
to all parts of the world, experienced at finding a Christian
nation here in the midst of Africa. To this the King replied,
that he did not wish to see strangers in his country, but that
if strangers came he preferred that they should be Christians.
This was a decided damper; but Sir Robert, after a pause,
rallied nobly, and said that we had a most friendly feeling for
all the Abyssinians, with the exception only of the bad men
who held our countrymen captive. The King replied that
Theodore was our common enemy, and that he hoped we
should punish him as he deserved. The General then inquired
the names of the princes present, and found that one
was an elder brother, and two were uncles of the King. These
were all intelligent-looking men, with fine faces for Abyssinians.
The King’s elder brother is a much more resolute
and determined-looking man than the King. These men,
as well as the King, we could now see, upon their sitting
down and getting their arms a little free from the wrappings
of cloth, had very large golden armlets, or rather wrist-ornaments,
of exactly the same shape as a lady’s gauntlet. Sir
Robert now said that he wished to present the King with some
presents, to demonstrate our friendship. These were a double-barrelled
rifle by Purday, some handsome Bohemian glass
vases, and the horse upon which he himself rode when he met
the King. By the way, I question much if the King will
ever trust himself upon the horse, which is a high-spirited
and rather restive animal, and which upon our leaving the
tent completely overpowered the native to whom it had been
delivered, and had finally to be taken up to the royal tent by
its own syce. The meeting now was over, that is, it was over
as a public meeting, and all retired from the tent except two
or three confidential officers on either side. What had preceded
was merely a formal opening, and the interview was
now really interesting. I am, of course, unable to give the
details, but the general substance was that the King now entirely
threw aside his reserve, and said that he hoped for our
support in the disputes which will arise upon Theodore’s defeat.
Sir Robert Napier assured the King of our friendship,
but stated that his Queen had sent him here solely with
the design of rescuing our countrymen, but that she had
given him strict orders on no account to take any part in the
unfortunate dissensions which were taking place in the country.
We have, as we marched onward to this place, seen
everywhere the signs of these unfortunate wars, in the fields
lying uncultivated, and in the deserted villages, and he hoped
to hear that with the destruction of the power of Theodore,
this most unfortunate state of things would cease. At the
same time he assured the King that he might rely that if we
could give him no support we should also abstain from giving
any assistance whatever to his rivals.
Kassa afterwards, in
answer to a request of the Chief, promised that he would send
messengers to the principal towns upon our route, ordering
the inhabitants to do all in their power to furnish us with
provisions and supplies. After the interview was over, the
King and princes were supplied with wine and spirits, not,
however, without some difficulty, for there are very few
bottles of wine remaining in the camp of the advancing
column. There was then a pause of an hour or two, after
which our troops were paraded, and went through a few manœuvres
before the King. These were not of much interest,
as no powder was expended, and the ground, being full of
deep holes, hidden by long grass, was most unfavourable for
the movements of either artillery or cavalry. The action of
the Armstrongs was also explained to the King. After this
the troops returned to camp, and Sir Robert Napier and his
staff crossed the stream with the King to pay a return visit to
the royal tent. The natives, who had been clustered by the
stream, all rose at his approach, and the drums struck up their
strange music. We were now enabled, riding as we were
among a dense throng of natives, to judge more accurately of
their number and appearance than we had hitherto been
able to do. The general opinion was, that there must have
been about three thousand, three-quarters of whom were
armed with guns. They were a fine, active-looking set of
men, and in a rough country would make formidable antagonists
even for trained soldiers. These men are known to be
brave, and are fairly armed, but Theodore’s army has always
defeated them. Theodore’s army must, therefore, have been
by no means despicable antagonists; and although that army
has now dwindled to four or five thousand men, it is probable
that that four or five thousand are the most desperate characters
and the most warlike warriors of his original force.
Strong as Magdala naturally is, and garrisoned by a few thousand
such men as these, it may possibly be a hard nut even
for a British army to crack.
Arrived at the King’s tent, which is of considerable
size, Sir Robert Napier entered with the King, princes, and
as many of his staff as the tent would accommodate, and
took seats upon the carpeted ground. Here refreshments,
small flat bread, and native liquors of fermented honey and
herbs, and native spirits, were served round. Sir Robert
Napier was declared by the King to be a good warrior, and
the King presented him with his own lion-mane tippet, his
own sword, shield, and spear, the mule he had himself ridden
at the interview, with its saddle and trappings, and a silver
gauntlet. After about half an hour the Commander-in-chief
took his leave.
As I rode up towards the tent I was smoking a cigar, and
this attracted the greatest attention and astonishment from
the natives who were crowding round. It was evident they
had never seen a cigar before. I gave away several to the
chiefs, who, however, were quite in the dark as to what to do
with them when they had got them. I offered them my cigar
to light those I had given them from; but they had no idea
what to do with it, and were on the point of putting it into
one of their mouths, when I rescued it, and struck a light with
a vesuvian. This astonished them even more than the cigar.
However, they lit their cigars, and smoked them with manifest
content, occasionally lending them to their friends for a
whiff. Numbers of applications then poured in upon me,
which, however, I was obliged to refuse, for cigars are very
precious articles here. I left when Sir Robert Napier did,
as it was nearly six o’clock, and I wished to get back to Ad
Abaga, where I had left my tent and baggage, before it became
too dark to follow the track.
The opinion of the King and his principal warriors respecting
our troops is similar to that expressed by the natives at the
review at Attegrat, namely, that our troops would be invincible
upon a plain, but that they would have no fear of us
upon a mountain side. Our cannon are not so large as they
had expected to see; but they said that they had heard great
things of our rockets, which rush through the air with a tremendous
noise, and destroy those who are not killed by their
explosion by a noxious vapour which is fatal to man and beast.
They are thoroughly convinced that we have great power of
enchantment; and this will probably do more to retain their
neutrality than any fear of our arms would do. They say that
by enchantment we have tamed the elephants; by enchantment
we have kept the rain from falling near the sea-coast,
and interrupting our work in the pass; by enchantment we
have made the locusts disappear the moment we came up on
to the high country; and therefore that were we offended, we
should by enchantment also prevent rain from falling over
the whole country, and thus create a dreadful famine in the
land.
As the natives are impressed by enchantment, and are not
at all impressed by our soldiers, I should propose that in any
future war of the same kind there should be an officer appointed
under the title of magician to the forces, and that he
should have subordinate officers as assistant magicians and
deputy-assistant magicians. The duty of these officers should
be to exhibit signs and wonders. Mr. Anderson might perhaps
be induced to undertake the control of the machine
tricks and general magic; Mr. Home would do the spiritual
business, and could astonish the native mind with the sight
of elephants floating in the air, or could terrify a negro potentate
by tweaking his nose at a durbar by invisible fingers.
One of the deputy-assistant magicians should be a pyrotechnist,
whose duty would be to light up the camp with unearthly
fire, and to place strange portents in the midnight sky. Certainly,
had this department been organised before the
expedition began, and had a few of its officers been present, we
might have dispensed with several regiments, and the cost of
the expedition would have been greatly lessened, however
munificent the remuneration of the chiefs of the department
might have been. Should Government adopt this suggestion,
and I have no doubt they will do so, I shall expect a valuable
appointment in the corps.
On the day after the last mail left we were favoured with
a précis of the letters from Magdala which had arrived three
days previously. They contained nothing of any great importance.
Gobayze and Menelek were both near King Theodore;
so near, indeed, that the camp-fires of the former could
be seen from Theodore’s camp. They were both evidently
afraid to attack him; but Gobayze had sent him an insulting
message, and Theodore had at once put the unfortunate
herald to death. Theodore was making very slow progress;
and it was thought that he would not arrive until the end of
March at Magdala. He was ten hours’ ride from that fortress,
which would mean about twenty-five miles. Even if he
travels at half the reported rate of speed, he will be there
before us. The opinion is general now that we shall have a
fight at the end of our journey.
Doullo, February 29.
We arrived here yesterday afternoon, after three days’
marching. On the 26th the troops went from Mai Dehar to
Dongollo, fifteen miles; on the 27th to Agula, nine miles; and
on the 28th to Doullo, fifteen miles. The road has lain across
a much more undulating country than that over which we
have previously passed. On the first day’s march we had one
very long and steep descent. This tried the mules; and many
were the upsets of packs, many the tired animals who lay
down, and refused to move until unsaddled, upon the narrow
ledge. Fortunately, however, although long and steep, it was
straight, and so the artillery got down with comparative ease
and without any accident. The camp was in a valley, where
the water was very good, and where there was one pool of
deep water nearly 200 yards long, which afforded excellent
bathing. There were a good many fish in it, and several
were caught of over a pound in weight. This is curious,
as it shows that the Abyssinians are by no means skilful
fishermen; for Mr. Speedy tells me that during his residence
in the country he never saw nor heard of a fish more
than three inches long being caught.
The next day’s march was a short and rather easy one.
The last was not only long, but it had some very long and
difficult ascents and descents; indeed, it was one succession
of hills for the whole distance. The country has throughout
been thinly populated. We have come across several ruined
villages, which have probably been destroyed in the constant
wars which are raging in this country. The churches,
however, have generally been respected; and whenever a
really fine clump of trees is to be seen, there is always a
church to be found in their shade. Where the villages have
been destroyed, the churches are of course deserted, and are
more or less falling into ruins. This camp is pitched in a
wide valley, and we are procuring more supplies than usual
from the natives. Yesterday we bought 1500lb. of grain,
and to-day we are obtaining an even larger supply. Grass,
however, is comparatively scarce, and the water is by no
means good. Cattle, as usual, are in abundance. We are
going on again to-morrow, and shall reach the camp beyond
Antalo in two days. I hear very good accounts of the state
of the supplies there, and am told that we have bought, in
addition to grain, &c., considerable quantities of flour and
bread.
This is by far the most satisfactory intelligence we have
yet received since we landed in Abyssinia, and if these supplies
continue to come in, it will very greatly shorten the duration
of our campaign. The great question is to accumulate
supplies sufficient for us to march to Magdala. As long as
we have to consume the supplies the mules bring up, the
process of accumulation must be a very long one. Flour and
meat are the only two articles of diet which are of material
weight. The preserved vegetables, tea, sugar, and salt, amount
together to under six ounces per diem per man; and one
mule would therefore carry the rations of 500 men of these
articles. When we reach Antalo and join the advanced force
our number will not exceed 1200 Europeans, and 50 mules
will carry three weeks’ rations for them, exclusive of meat,
which we can always purchase, flour, and rum. At present
the ration of rum is one drachm a day, but it is possible that
at any moment this may be stopped; and it is at all events
probable that no rum will be carried beyond Antalo. If,
therefore, we can purchase flour and meat along the march,
and the Europeans of the advance force number 3000, we
shall only require six mules a day to carry their rations, or
186 mules for a month’s supply. Of course this calculation
will not hold good for our journey, as it is most improbable
that we shall succeed in getting flour or bread along the road;
but if we can only buy sufficient quantities for our consumption
while we are stopping at Antalo, it will be an immense
relief to the transport-train. The native bread is not at all
bad. It is baked in cakes about an inch thick and eight
inches in diameter. It is dark in colour, and sometimes
sour; but I have tasted some as good bread as one could
wish to eat. The price I have paid here is a dollar for five of
these loaves, weighing about a pound and a half each. Wood
is very scarce, a dollar being charged for four bundles of
sticks weighing under ten pounds a bundle.
The pause of to-day is made partly to enable the artillery
to repair a wheel of one of their store-wagons, which broke
in coming down the last descent, partly to rest the animals,
which now, after four days’ work, greatly needed a day’s rest.
We require more cavalry with us. The 3d Native Cavalry
have had tremendously hard work; what with marching and
picket-duty, the men never get more than two nights in the
week in bed, and sometimes not more than one. It is surprising
how the animals, with so great an amount of work
and with insufficient food, keep in such good condition as
they are at present. All the animals will, however, be improved
by a short stay at Antalo.
The weather has very much changed since we left Ad
Abaga. We have a strong and really cold north-wind blowing
all day, and between five and eight o’clock of an evening
it is most cutting. At night it drops; and the temperature is
then not so cold as it was either at Senafe or Attegrat. The
natives generally are affected with coughs and colds; and the
amount of coughing which goes on at night in the vicinity of
our tent is both astonishing and disagreeable.
Sir Charles Staveley came up from Zulla, and joined us on
the day of our leaving Ad Abaga. He has taken command
of the advanced brigade. I hear that, owing to the quantities
of stores taken up by the trains which accompanied General
Collings’s column and our own, the supplies at Senafe and
other places along the line were very low; so much so, that
the troops who were ordered up have been kept back at Zulla
until further stores could be accumulated. I trust that by
this time a large stock has been collected at Senafe, as Captain
Griffiths, who commanded the portion of the transport-train
which went forward with General Collings’s column, has
just passed downward with his mules to fetch up another
supply.
Antalo, March 4th.
When I wrote, four days since, from Doullo, I mentioned
that we had news of flour and other stores being purchased
in considerable quantities at Antalo, and that if supplies continued
to come in, the prospects of the expedition would be
altogether changed. But I certainly did not anticipate that
we should be able to advance from here under three weeks
or a month. Two days before we arrived here, indeed, there
were rumours of a much earlier move than had been anticipated;
and an order was issued that in all probability we
should be compelled to go forward without either rum, tea,
or sugar. Of course everyone is prepared to make great
sacrifices, and to submit to every hardship which may be
absolutely necessary. Every reduction of kit, the dismissal
of the native followers, and the diminution of carriage, has
been received not only without a murmur, but with actual
satisfaction by everyone. The reductions were felt to be
necessary; for in no other way would it be possible to
penetrate this inhospitable country. It was considered
probable that beyond Lât we should have to go without tents,
and with only a blanket and one change of clothes; and I
have not heard an expression of repugnance or complaint at
the prospect: but this order to proceed without rum, tea,
or sugar, was received with the gravest dissatisfaction by
men and officers of all ranks. It was not as a matter of
comfort that it was objected to, but as a matter of health.
Rum is an article difficult of carriage, and can be dispensed
with; sugar also might be done without; but tea is
upon a campaign like this an absolute necessity, if the men
are to have no rum. It is not that the tea is nice, for it
certainly is not; it is positively nasty. It bears no resemblance
whatever to the herb we drink in England as tea;
at the same time it is an absolute essential. The mornings
and nights are very cold; the troops are on the move at
half-past five in the morning, when everything is saturated
with dew; they are hard at work all day; their picket-duty
is very severe; and to give them with their breakfast in the
morning and their supper at the end of their day’s work
nothing but cold water to drink, was simply to send the
whole army into hospital. Were the water good, the results
might not have been so disastrous, but it is almost always
drawn from stagnant pools, and is the reverse of wholesome.
Officers generally drink the water only after filtering, but
the men never think of taking the trouble. Boiling the
water is no doubt even superior in its effect to filtering it;
but the men would certainly not boil the water if they had
nothing to put in it. They would drink nothing but impure
water, which in a country where the changes in temperature
are so great and so sudden as they are here, would
most certainly bring on dysentery in a very short time. The
privation of their rum would in itself be much felt among
the men. They have all been some years in India, where
rum forms part of a soldier’s regular ration. They are accustomed
to its use, and no doubt would feel somewhat its
sudden privation. Had they been troops fresh from England,
it would have mattered comparatively little. Our
adjutant-general, Colonel Thesiger, is a total abstainer; I
believe that is the polite expression for a teetotaller. Of
course his theory is, that men are much better without
spirits; and the present will be a great opportunity for testing
the effects of a Maine Law. I believe, however, that
officers and men would give up their rum and their sugar
without a murmur where tea is but allowed them; but I am
sure that bad water alone will lay up half the troops. Nor
will there be any saving in carriage by leaving tea behind.
We shall have to take a greater weight of medicines than
we should of the tea. The reason given for thus leaving behind
what everyone feels to be, bad as it is, the most precious
portion of our stores, was, that we can procure any amount
of native carriage, but that the natives will only carry
flour and grain, and refuse to undertake the carriage of
rum, sugar, and tea, partly because of the greater responsibility,
and partly because of the shape of the barrels and
casks, which are inconvenient to pack upon the little oxen
and donkeys. Everyone asks, Have we, then, no carriage
of our own? Have we no available transport-mules besides
those carrying the tents? One mule will carry from 150 to
200 pounds weight, which would give 500 men their day’s
ration of tea. The advance brigade will not contain much
over 3000 men, and consequently fifty mules will carry two
months’ rations of tea for them; and it is an extraordinary
thing if, out of the 15,000 baggage-animals in the transport-train,
fifty cannot be spared to carry an article which everyone
feels to be all-important both for the health and comfort
of the troops. I am sure that Sir Robert Napier himself
consented with the greatest reluctance to the proposition,
and that he shares in the general satisfaction which is experienced
at the report that the commissariat find that some
of the natives are consenting to take on tea, if it is packed
in skins or in stout bags, and that therefore a proportion
of tea will at any rate be taken on.
I began this letter by saying that the news of the purchase
of flour and grain would, if true, completely change
the whole prospect of the expedition. I am happy to say
that the news we heard is now more than verified, and that
the commissariat are purchasing at the rate of 12,000 lbs.
or 14,000 lbs. of flour a day. In addition to this, they are
buying sufficient bread for the daily consumption of the
troops. Very large convoys of native baggage-animals have
also come in during the last few days, and we find ourselves
with two months’ provision of all kinds, and four months’
provision of flour already in hand for the whole of the advanced
division. This is a more forward state of things
than I expected to have seen in another two months, and
entirely alters the prospect of the campaign. Had we found
the same dearth of food here which we experienced all along
the line, we must have waited so long that it would have
been an impossibility to have returned before the rain. Now
there is a chance of our so doing.
Sanguine spirits even mention the 1st of April as the
probable day for reaching Magdala. If we are there at the
end of the first week in April, we shall, should Theodore
await us and no hitch occur, start upon our return march
by the 15th, pass through this place by the 7th of May, and
be at Zulla in another month, that is, before the rains begin.
I have, however, seen so many unforeseen obstacles, so many
unavoidable delays occur since we first landed, that I cannot
put any faith in this sudden express speed. When we
arrived here two days since, the intention was that we should
march on the 6th. I hear that our advance is now postponed,
at any rate, until the 9th; and I should not be surprised
if we were here for a week after that date. The fact
is, no one knows anything whatever about the roads in front
of us. All travellers, with one exception, who have journeyed
here have turned to the right at Antalo, and have
gone down the valley to Socota. The one exception is Dr.
Krapf, and his report of the road is far too vague to be of
any practical utility. It only requires a look to the southward
of this camp to give us a notion of the country we
are going to travel through. A chain of rugged mountains
with peak rising beyond peak extends in an unbroken line.
Over or through them we have somehow to get, and at
present we know next to nothing about them.
A pioneer force of two companies of the 33d, some of
the Beloochees, some Punjaub pioneers, sappers, and miners,
and the Scinde horse have gone on ahead to make roads,
and the reports we have at present received from them are
the reverse of favourable.
Lât is our next halting-place; and until we hear that the
road to that place is practicable for mules, it is no use advancing
from here, where we are living upon the country
and consuming no stores.
I now return to the narrative of our march here. From
Doullo to Icullot was only an eight-miles’ march across a by-no-means
difficult country. The next march on to this place
was twelve miles, and the country was very undulating; but
such an excellent road had been made by the advanced
brigade that the mules had no difficulty whatever in crossing
it. This road was better than anything we have traversed
since we left Senafe. The Commander-in-chief, however,
did not go by the same route, but turned off to visit Chalicote,
a considerable town lying a little distance out of the
line of march.
Chalicote is more prettily situated than any town we have
hitherto seen. It lies in a well-wooded valley. The church
is in precisely the same style as that at Attegrat, with frescoes
drawn apparently by the same hand. I so fully described
the church at Attegrat, that any details respecting
this would be superfluous.
The Chief was accompanied by some of his staff, and by
Mr. Holmes, of the British Museum, who had hoped to acquire
some old manuscripts there, especially as he had heard
of one said to be of great value, and bound in silver gilt. It
turned out, however, to be quite modern; and up to the
present time Mr. Holmes, although he has been indefatigable
in his search, has not succeeded in finding any manuscript
of great antiquity; he has, however, heard of some at a
place a little distant from our line of march, which he
hopes to acquire upon our return, and which, if they correspond
to the description given of them, will be of very great
value. It was hardly to be expected that, skirting as the
line of march does upon the very edge of the table-land of
Abyssinia—a portion of the country remote from the principal
towns, and exposed to the constant devastation of
border warfare—any remains of very great antiquity would be
met with. Had our course led through Axoum, which was
the capital of that strange Greek possession of which Adulis
or Zulla was the seaport, we might have expected some
interesting discoveries to have taken place. There is yet a
possibility that we may see Axoum; for although, if there is
any chance of getting out of the country before the rainy
season, we shall of course make every effort to get back in
time, there is a rumour that, if we are obliged to pass the
wet season here, a portion of the force will go back by Axoum
and Adowa.
This camp is called Antalo, but it is a mere name of
courtesy, like that of a good many English railway-stations.
It is nearly six miles from the town of Antalo, going by the
most direct and most difficult road; eight miles fully by the
more accessible path. The position of Antalo was certainly
selected more with a view to its defensibility than for its
convenience. It lies upon a small undulating plain six or
seven hundred feet above the general level of the valley, and
at the foot of a very lofty and precipitous hill which rises
nearly sheer up fifteen hundred feet above it. This hill is
accessible only at one or two places, and walls are built
across them; so that it forms a safe retreat for the inhabitants
of Antalo in the event of their being attacked by a
superior force. This hill fortress is called Amba Antalo. A
position such as this is no unnecessary protection in this part
of the country, for Antalo lies at the very edge of the territory
of the warlike Gallas. These tribes, whenever their
harvest is a bad one, gather together and make a foray upon
the villages of the plain, and sweep off crops and cattle.
Everywhere on the plain are ruined villages, which attest
the frequency and ferocity of these forays; and Antalo itself
has evidently, and at no very distant time, contained four
times as large a population as it does at present. I rode
over there the day before yesterday to the weekly fair.
I described fully the market at Attegrat in a former
letter; and as this was precisely the same scene upon a
rather larger scale, I have little to add to what I then said.
Very large quantities of flour were brought in, and the commissariat
secured a considerable supply. Numbers of mules,
donkeys, and cattle were also there. The small-goods market
too was crowded, and herbs and grain of all sorts—onions,
chillies, cloth, and most of the other articles I mentioned as
having seen at Attegrat—were here, with the exception
only of pumpkins, of which I did not see a single specimen.
I, however, bought three pounds of coffee, which I look upon
as a great prize, as it will be a change from the excessively
bitter herb termed by courtesy tea. The commissariat have
purchased a considerable quantity of coffee, and I am told we
shall find it much more plentiful as we go forward. This will
be a very great boon for the men.
I think that the people here are more merry and full of
fun than those at Attegrat; they enter, or rather attempt
to enter, into conversation much more freely, and really seem
anxious to do anything for one. I had at least a dozen of
them yesterday all talking together, and endeavouring to
make out what I wanted to find out about some small
packets of lead-ore which were used as a medium of exchange.
It was a rich flaky ore, containing quite eighty per
cent of lead, and marking paper freely. I was very desirous
of finding out which part of the country it came from;
but neither my pantomime nor the united endeavours of the
lookers-on to understand me availed to elicit the required
information.
During my progress through the country I have not seen
any sign of mineral ground, with the exception of some very
rich samples of ironstone. During the last three or four
days’ march the formation has changed several times from
sandstone to a hard blue limestone, and vice versâ. On the
faces of these bare hills it would be easy even at a distance to
detect the change of colour or the rising ridges which generally
indicate the existence of a vein of mineral; but, as I
have said, although I have carefully examined the country
as I passed through it, I have seen no mineral indication
whatever.
To return to the fair. The scene, as at Attegrat, was
very amusing; and the attitude of the groups—the women
sitting about everywhere with their baskets, the men leaning
upon their spears, the cattle standing about in groups—the
whole scene reminded me strongly of an Irish fair, barring
only the absence of the friendly pig, with his agonised shriek
of expostulation and disgust.
Antalo consists of four or five villages, each standing
upon the summits of small rises. They were formerly connected
together, and even now are surrounded by ruined
huts. The last blow Antalo suffered was three years ago,
when it was attacked by the Gallas, incited and led by a
rebel against Kassa, named Waldo Yasus. Both Antalo and
the villages on the plains suffered greatly at that time; and
a terrible attack of cholera, which swept over the country
shortly afterwards, completed their ruin. The houses have
all high conical roofs, thatched with rushes. Each house has
a courtyard surrounded by a high wall. The women here
are less picturesque in dress and less pleasing in feature
than those of Attegrat. Their morality is lax in the extreme.
A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband:
I fear
there are very few crowned heads in Abyssinia. I had left my
horse at the foot of the ascent from the plain up to Attegrat,
and had walked the last two miles. It was a very hot day,
and one of our first inquiries upon reaching the fair was for
tedge.
We were conducted to what answered to a public-house.
Here we entered, and passing through a sort of outer
passage, found ourselves in almost outer darkness. It was
some time before we could see sufficiently to avail ourselves
of the invitation to be seated, but presently descried two seats
or couches, built up of stone and covered with skins. The
room was semicircular in form, and very lofty, going up to
the thatched roof, which was lined with bamboo; on either
side were small chambers, which appeared devoted to miscellaneous
purposes; for after we had been some minutes in the
place, and were able to see a little, we made out that a donkey
was standing placidly at the door of one of these chambers,
and that a goat and a fireplace were the principal articles of
furniture in the other. The walls of the room were smoothly
plastered, and as an abode it no doubt possessed the advantage
of coolness, even in the hottest weather. Tedge, as I
have before said, is a liquor made from fermented honey and
water, with herbs, and tastes like a mixture of small beer
and lemonade made from mouldy lemons, and was brought
in in a flask very like a Lucca oil-flask, but rather flatter,
and with a larger neck. From the neck of this flask we
drank by turns; and as it did not hold more than half a pint,
and as we were four in number and the clay was hot, we
demanded more. It seems that no more was strained; so a
large jar was brought, the wife of the proprietor put a fold
of her very dirty garment over its mouth, and strained the
liquor through it into the flask, and we drank it. In calmer
moments and in other climes, it is probable that we should
not have done so—probable even that a feeling of sickness
would have overpowered us. I am happy to say, however,
that the army in Abyssinia has altogether overcome any feeling
of squeamishness. I have seen some rum drank in which
several cockroaches had committed suicide; and I have assisted
to eat honey which was black with ants whose appetites
had caused their untimely death. As for cooking, I confess
that I avoid the cooking-fires. I have seen sights which
have tried my philosophy to the utmost, and am now quite
content to eat the very excellent dinners our servants prepare
from rations, and not to think of the processes the meat has
undergone. My tent-companion and myself pride ourselves
much upon our cooks. They are two Goa Portuguese, and
are, we flatter ourselves, beyond all comparison the best cooks
in camp. Their soups are excellent, their cutlets the best I
ever tasted, their preserved potatoes, baked in cakes, delicious.
They sent up birds in as good a style as I can get
them in a London club. Their pumpkin-pie—when we could
get pumpkins—was the talk of camp; the fame of their baked
sheep’s head, with brain cutlets, came to the ears of Sir
Robert Napier himself. Imagine, then, our feelings, when
the stern decree was emanated—all native servants whatever
are to be sent away; each officer is to carry 75 lb. of luggage,
including bed, cooking-utensils, and plates and dishes; and
three officers are to be allotted to each bell-tent. Heads of
departments only are to be allowed a bell-tent between two.
At first we had believed that this order did not apply to us;
that having our own baggage-animals, and providing our
forage, &c. at our own cost, and the tent being our own
property, we thought that it was a matter which concerned
no one but ourselves as to what or who we took on with us.
But we were deceived. Quartermaster-generals, eager to
effect the greatest possible cutting down, had their eyes upon
the special correspondents and the scientific gentlemen who
accompany the camp; and we were officially informed that
we must be amenable to the same rules as others. We pointed
out that we found our own carriage, and therefore that the
weight we carried mattered to no one; but were sternly informed
that if we purchased grain for our animals, there was
so much the less available for the public service. To a certain
extent this was true; and so we said that we were ready
to go on with the weight that other officers were allowed,
but that the tent in the first place was our own, and that it
would be quite impossible for three men to write in a tent
together. We were ready, therefore, to carry less than the
permitted 75 lbs. of baggage, in order to have half a tent
each; so that our total kit, including tent, would not exceed
the prescribed 140 lbs. Our friends in the quartermaster
department were quite unable to grant us this request, and
it was only upon a personal application to Sir Robert Napier
that we gained our point, as, upon our stating the case, he
at once consented to our retaining our own tent to ourselves.
The next question was that of servants. All servants to be
sent back, a grass-cutter only being allowed for each horse.
At first we thought we should be obliged to send our servants
back. Fortunately, however, a grass-cutter is allowed for
each horse; and as we have each two horses, we have retained
our cooks under the title of grass-cutters for our
second horses. We are not singular in our management,
and there are very few staff-officers who have not managed
in some such manner to retain their servants. The fact is,
that a rule of this sort bears very much more hardly upon a
staff-officer, or a civilian living as we are, than it does upon
a regimental officer. A soldier-servant is allotted to each
officer upon application, and regimental officers who pick
handy men from their own companies, and who live three in
a tent, have their three soldier-servants between them as
usual. It is far otherwise with a staff-officer: he may obtain
a soldier-servant from a regiment; but that soldier does
not know him, and will not work for him as he will for his
own officer. In the next place, the soldier has certain regimental
work to do, which will take him away from his master’s
tent for a considerable portion of the day; and lastly, a
staff-officer is liable to be sent away on duty from the camp
where the regiment to which his servant belongs is stationed.
In our own case a soldier-servant would be useless; we might
wish at any moment to push on to the pioneer force, or to
accompany the Commander-in-chief upon a short expedition,
and we should then be left without any servant whatever. At
any rate, the order is generally evaded. Were it not that
two months must elapse before a copy of this letter can come
out to us, I should not speak so freely upon this point, as we
should be having a special committee of officers of the quarter-master-general’s
department assembling to consider the
question of evasion of the general order relating to servants
by officers and civilians attached to the army.
Antalo, March 7th.
I am happy to say that Major Minion, of the commissariat,
arrived here early this morning with a large convoy,
carrying among other stores a large quantity of rum; and
it is now finally decided that a certain quantity of both rum
and tea shall be served out daily to the troops on the advance.
This happy state of things has been principally
brought about by the energetic remonstrances of all the
medical officers, and by their representation of the disastrous
effect which the sudden privation of tea and rum would
have upon the health of the troops, especially under the circumstances
of the water being so bad. Sir Robert Napier
himself was, I know, most averse to so extreme a measure;
and nothing but the most urgent feeling of the necessity of
pushing on in the lightest and most speedy manner could
have induced him to consent to it; and I am sure that he
is as pleased as anyone that he is able to continue the issue
of what are really essentials to the soldiers.
It is still intended that we shall march on the 9th instant;
indeed, orders were issued for a forward movement for both
yesterday and to-day. The orders were, however, countermanded,
for the road is not practicable for more than one
day’s march. As to the state of the road beyond, we receive
contradictory reports. Colonel Phayre, with his usual
happy, sanguine way of seeing things, states, I hear, that
it is not a very bad road; while the engineer officer, on the
other hand, reports that it will require a great deal of work
to make it practicable for baggage-animals, especially for
the elephants with the guns. The reason why the order was
given for the troops to march forward at once was, that
Colonel Phayre sent in to say that Waldo Yasus, the destroyer
of Antalo, had sent in to say that he should oppose
our passage. It caused quite an excitement for a time. But
I learn to-day that Brigadier-general Field, who commands
the pioneer forces, has sent in a letter to say that the whole
thing is a mistake, and that Waldo Yasus is perfectly
friendly, and that some of the Scindees have already gone on.
M. Munzinger, whose name I have frequently had occasion
to mention as French consul at Massowah, and as accompanying
the force as political adviser and interpreter,
has gone on ahead on a mission to Gobayze. M. Munzinger
has been some years in the country; he has married an
Abyssinian woman, and owns villages and land near here.
He is therefore well known to the natives, speaks their language,
and is in every respect very well fitted for an expedition
of this sort. On the other hand, there is some dissatisfaction
among members of the staff, who say that an
officer ought to have been selected for a mission of such importance,
and should of course have been accompanied by
an interpreter. It is urged, too, that the French look with
great jealousy at our proceedings, and that their interests
are totally opposed to our own; and that therefore a gentleman,
however eligible in other respects, who is a French
official should not have been intrusted with so important a
mission. From all I have heard of M. Munzinger, I think
there need be no objection upon the latter score; but I confess
that I agree with those who think that a British officer—Major
Grant, for instance—ought to have gone as our
ambassador, or at least should have accompanied M. Munzinger.
M. Munzinger was, I believe, sent forward by
Colonel Merewether without Sir Robert Napier’s knowledge.
As M. Munzinger went forward, he had an interview with
Waldo Yasus, who expressed some little fear that we, as
the friends of Kassa, might intend to attack his amba, or
fort, which stands on a lofty rock immediately beside the
defile through which we pass. M. Munzinger, however,
tranquillised him upon that score, and assured him that we
should in no way interfere with any dissensions in the country.
Waldo expressed himself as perfectly satisfied. M. Munzinger
has now nearly reached Lake Ashangi, and his report of
the road is decidedly favourable.
The gentleman to whom this expedition is most greatly
indebted, and who has done infinitely more with the natives
than the whole of our so-called politicals and interpreters
put together, is Mr. Speedy. I have already mentioned that
Mr. Speedy was sent for from New Zealand to accompany
the expedition, Sir Stafford Northcote having strongly recommended
him to Sir Robert Napier. The summons arrived
somewhat unexpectedly to Mr. Speedy, for he had
already written to Colonel Merewether volunteering his
services, which had been declined by that officer. Mr.
Speedy, however, came off in three days after he received
General Napier’s communication. His services here have
been simply invaluable. Almost every useful negotiation
with the natives has been conducted by him. He speaks
the language exceedingly well, and is unwearied in his
work. He hears complaints, receives chiefs, and is in fact
at present our great medium of communication with the
natives. He may be said to have completely extinguished
the little light of our former politicals. Unquestionably he
would have been the man to have sent to Gobayze; but even
had not Colonel Merewether sent off his emissary, M.
Munzinger, without consulting Sir Robert Napier, the Commander-in-chief
would not have parted with Mr. Speedy, who
is now his right-hand in all his communications with the
natives. Among the other stores which have arrived to-day
is some tobacco. The quantity is quite insufficient for the
wants of the troops during their advance; but even a small
supply per man will be a very great boon, for at present
there is hardly any tobacco left among them. Even the
officers’ supplies are beginning to run short, and they as
well as the men will soon be reduced to smoke the country
tobacco, which is a disgusting mixture of tobacco and cow-dung
formed into flat cakes.
The generals of the advanced force are Brigadier-general
Field (who has only just been promoted), who commands the
pioneer force; Brigadier-general Schneider, who has the
first brigade; and Brigadier-general Wilby the second.
Brigadier-general Collings, who has hitherto commanded
the advanced brigade, is to be left behind here. This has
naturally given rise to very strong comment. General Collings
is far senior in the service to any of the men who have
been thus chosen for the post of honour, and he has seen
probably as much active service as the other three officers
together. He is in every respect an excellent soldier and a
most popular man; and there is a general feeling that his
being thus passed over is a most undeserved slight, to put
it in the mildest form. There is another reason why he
should have certainly formed part of the advance. The first
division is composed almost entirely of Europeans; and yet
two out of the three officers chosen are Indian officers who
have never commanded an English soldier during the whole
of their service. General Collings has not, as far as I have
heard, in any way neglected his duty; and his case is a
matter of regret and sympathy with every officer with whom
I have spoken—I mean, of course, outside the charmed pale
of the official circle.
The general health of the troops continues excellent.
There have been a few cases of dysentery, but the hospitals
are all but empty.
Antalo is low, that is, in comparison with some of the
places we have marched through: it is little over 6000 feet
above the sea, that is, 3000 feet lower than Ad Abaga. The
nights are consequently much milder than those we have
lately experienced. The sun is hot between eight and ten in
the morning; but at the latter hour a breeze springs up, which
continues to blow with violence all day, and renders the heat
of the sun, which would otherwise be great, bearable and even
pleasant. The spirit of the troops is no less good than their
health. Men who were marching up with the first wings of
the 4th and 33d would suffer anything from sore feet rather
than say a word on the subject, lest they should be left behind.
One case of this illustrates the feeling even more strongly.
The day upon which we marched out from Attegrat, three
of the men of the 4th in some way obtained some liquor,
and were convicted of drunkenness upon the line of march.
This is a serious military offence, punishable by fifty lashes;
but Colonel Cameron told them that, as they were all good-conduct
men, he would only punish them by sending them
back to the wing behind. The men all came forward and requested
as a favour to be flogged instead of being left behind.
Nothing could speak in stronger terms for the spirit of the
troops than this. I am glad to say that, in consideration
of their previous good conduct, Colonel Cameron felt
himself enabled to pardon them. This fact, in itself, is a better
answer to those who argue for the abolition of corporal
punishment in the army than a hundred pamphlets would
be. The only cogent reason of any force which the objectors
to corporal punishment can allege is, that it degrades
a soldier in his own eyes, and that he is good for nothing
afterwards. Now, this is not the case. I have at various
times spoken to hundreds of soldiers on the subject, and
their answer is almost invariably the same: It is not the
punishment in which is the disgrace; it is the crime. If
a man is flogged for stealing, he gets it thrown in his teeth
afterwards that he has been flogged for being a thief; but
if he gets a drop too much, and perhaps is impudent to a
sergeant or officer, he may be flogged, but he will never have
it brought up against him as a disgrace afterwards.
The
present instance proves this. These three soldiers, all good-conduct
men, who had seen seven years of service, all considered
that there would be much greater disgrace in being
sent to the rear than in being flogged.
There is not very much shooting in this neighbourhood;
a few guinea-fowls and grouse, and an occasional hare, have
been bagged, but even these are scarce. As for the wild-beasts,
of which we were to see so much, they simply are
not. The rhinoceroses, who were to dispute the passage of
the defiles; the alligators and hippopotami, who were to lurk
around the watering-places, and to render the fetching a
jug of water a service of as great danger as was the drawing
a goblet from the enchanted fountain in our dear old
fairy tales,—all these monsters are unknown here. We hear
of lions, indeed, but somehow they are never found in the
parts of the country we traverse. The hyena and jackal
are the only animals met with which could, even by courtesy,
be called wild-beasts. These, indeed, swarm; and
their numerous holes are a serious hindrance and danger
to riders; beyond this they are harmless, and one would as
soon think of shooting a fox as a jackal. Sportsmen are
seriously disappointed; almost everyone has brought out
either rifle or gun, and many have carried both. Now,
when our luggage is limited to seventy-five pounds, the
weight of even one rifle, with its bullet-mould and a good
stock of lead and powder, is a very material consideration;
and, after the sacrifice of many little comforts to retain the
rifle, it is very hard to find that it is quite useless. There
is still a faint hope that we may find large game near the
Ashangi Lake; but, considering that it is over 5000 feet
above the sea, I can hardly think it is likely that we shall
find any large game there, except perhaps elephants. The
owners of fowling-pieces are better off. There have been
few camping-grounds where a good shot might not get a
guinea-fowl or two in an hour’s ramble; and a guinea-fowl
well cooked is one of the best game birds I know. Powder
and shot are very valuable; indeed, they cannot be bought
at any price, unless one is fortunate enough to find some one
who, in the readjustment of his baggage, finds that he cannot
possibly carry on all his stock of ammunition.
The plains here are singularly devoid of flowers: I never
travelled in any country, indeed, where there was such a
complete absence of wild-flowers; excepting, of course, the
little watered dells, which I have described in previous letters.
There is one solitary sort of flower, however, which I have
met with in the plains in the neighbourhood, and which
differs from any I ever saw before: it is a pea. The flower
is of the size and colour of the everlasting-pea;
but, instead
of growing as a climber, the flower grows upon its own
stalk from the ground. These flowers grow in clusters; but
there are no leaves or stems, with the exception of the flower-stalk
itself, three or four inches in height. The flower has
a scent exactly resembling that of a violet, but less powerful:
the seed is contained in a long, narrow pod, like that of a
wallflower.
Scorpions are rather abundant here; and so, I am sorry to
say, are white ants. It is not that one has any peculiar objection
to white ants. They are certainly repulsive-looking
insects, with their flabby white bodies and their big yellow
heads, but that is of little consequence; and if they would
but content themselves with walking about the tents and
climbing over everything, as do other ants, together with
spiders of every size, and a few beetles, one would not wish
to interfere with their pleasures. Unfortunately they will
not amuse themselves in this harmless way: they shun the
light, and work in darkness, and their work consists in eating
holes in the bottom of one’s portmanteau, or in the waterproof-sheet
under one’s bed, or one’s saddles, or books, or
anything else which may come handy to them.
Now, as we are going to leave most of our portmanteaus
and luggage here until we return, this propensity of theirs
becomes a grave inconvenience. I fancy that we shall find
our luggage, when we return, in a very dilapidated condition.
There is only one satisfaction,—our clothes are rapidly getting
into a state beyond which even white ants can effect
little further damage.
The remaining wing of the 4th Regiment arrived two
days ago, and the second wing of the 33d marched in this
morning. We have therefore all the troops now collected in
readiness for the forward move, with the exception only of
a portion of the Beloochees, the 3d Dragoon Guards, and
the elephants with the six-inch mortars; together with the
elephants to carry Murray’s guns. All these will, it is said,
be here in two or three days. There is another thing of
some slight importance lacking: this is money.
The commissariat have purchased such enormous quantities
of flour and other stores, that the money brought up is
exhausted. Fortunately another treasure-convoy is expected
in a day or two.
This morning, at a quarter to six, General Staveley had
all the troops out for a field-day. A deserted village upon
a rising ground was attacked and carried in excellent style;
but the manœuvres would have no interest to a general reader
beyond those of any garrison field-day.
Antalo, March 11th.
When Colonel Phayre went ahead on the day of our arrival
at Antalo, and reported that the road was rather bad, but not
impracticable, every one looked at the range of peaks ahead
of us and had serious misgivings. An order was issued for
our march upon the 7th, and a party of pioneers were sent
on to clear away any slight obstacles which might occur.
The report of their commanding officer as to the state of the
road was most unfavourable, and a wing of the 33d were
sent out to assist. In consequence of the reports which
came in, the march was postponed to the 9th, and Captain
Macgregor, of the quartermaster’s department, was sent
out to report. On the evening of the 8th a joint report from
this officer and Captain Goodfellow, of the Engineers, was
received. It stated, that they knew nearly every pass in
India, but that in their experience they had met nothing
whatever to compare to this defile, and that the Sooro pass
was child’s-play in comparison. With the 800 men at work,
it would, they calculated, take another ten days’ labour to
make it practicable for mules.
All this time Colonel Phayre
was still in front, but his reports gave us no idea of the true
state of things. In the mean time we were receiving reports
from Mr. Munzinger, who, as I stated in my last, had gone
ahead to see Gobayze, and he said that the road, although
difficult in places, was by no means bad. Of course, on the
receipt of the reports of Captains Macgregor and Goodfellow,
the march was again postponed. Everyone was indignant.
Sir Robert Napier, I have reason to know, was more indignant
than anyone, for his heart is set upon getting onward
as fast as possible. On the 9th arrived an officer from the
front, with the astounding intelligence that he had just ridden
down the other road, which was known to exist; that it was
six miles shorter; it passed over the mountain range at a
point 1500 feet lower than the other, and presented throughout
its whole distance no serious difficulties whatever. This
it appeared, was the very route that Munzinger had travelled,
and the discrepancies between his accounts and the real state
of things were at once explained. At first the news was
received with absolute incredulity. It seemed impossible
that the quartermaster-general could have kept the troops
at work for a week upon an impracticable road, when a good
one lay ready at hand. The road, too, which Colonel Phayre
had not explored is called the Royal road, which in itself
was sufficient to show that it was the best and most
frequented of the two. But the fact was, our political officer
had heard that a rebel chief had a fortress upon this road;
the same chief whom I mentioned in my last as having been
reported by Colonel Phayre as opposing our way. The man
really is perfectly friendly, and was at first rather more afraid
of us than our quartermaster-general was of him. However,
the mere fact of his being there was assumed to be a good
reason for our not taking the road. And so a precious week
has been wasted, and all the labour thrown away. The new
road is, of course, not yet passable for the elephants with
the heavy guns, but Sir Robert will push on with the 4th
Regiment and the steel guns, and the 33d and the pioneer
force will set to work and get it in order for the rest of the
force as soon as possible. It is not often that we find a
pioneer force engaged in making a road after the head-quarters
and part of the army have gone by. Our first
march is only eight miles. The distance thence up the pass
is nineteen. I believe that the troops will do it in two days,
but that Sir Robert Napier, with an escort, will go straight
through to Attala, in order to judge for himself of the real
state of things.
Our items of news from the rear are but of slight general
interest. Captain St. John reports, I am told, that the
natives have ceased to damage the telegraph-wires; but as
a per-contra, he says that the wires are frequently broken by
the baboons, who climb up the poles, and hang on the wires
by their tails. I am assured that this is an absolute fact.
One of the mule-drivers near Attegrat shot a native the
other day. The man, who was armed with a gun, attempted
to rob the mule; but the driver resisted, wrenched the gun
from his hand, and shot him. The robber is not dead, but
lies in a precarious state. The lesson was greatly required;
but instead of being rewarded for his conduct, the mule-driver
got a dozen lashes! I hope that the next driver
whose mule is attacked will allow it to be looted, and that
the functionary who has just so ably instructed mule-drivers
not to defend the public property will be ordered to pay the
cost of the stores stolen. Tents have been erected here for
the reception of such luggage as cannot be carried on under
the present regulations. I sent my portmanteau in this
morning, and had the pleasure when moving it of finding
that the white ants had eaten a large hole in the bottom.
I do not expect to find any remains of it, or of its contents,
upon my return. Captain Moore, the Commander-in-chief’s
interpreter, has gone on ahead to pacify the local chiefs, and
to assure them that we have no intention of molesting them.
No better man could have been selected for the office. Captain
Moore speaks almost every known language, and has
had as much experience of native potentates as any man
living. Major Grant has gone on to Attala, to buy provisions,
&c. An officer of his African experience and standing
would have been far better employed as an ambassador
to King Gobayze; while bargaining with natives would
have been much more in accordance with Mr. Munzinger’s
experience and powers. Some tobacco has come up, and has
been distributed among the troops, to their great satisfaction.
During the last few days the troops have been exercised in
turning out rapidly on the alarm being sounded. The sentries
have, too, been placed and instructed as if in front of an
enemy, who might at any moment make a night attack.
The natives here unanimously express their hopes and
wishes that we should take possession of the country and
become their masters. Our style of paying for everything
we require has taken them entirely by surprise. It is altogether
contrary to their experience. There is no doubt that
they are extremely poor, and terribly ground down, and
many of their very numerous vices are, to a certain extent,
excusable upon this score. They are so poor that they will
sell anything for dollars—their corn, their flour, their donkeys,
their cattle, their wives, or their daughters. They are a
terribly priest-ridden people. I should say that no people in
the world pay such extortionate dues. The priests claim two-fifths
of the gross produce; of the remainder one-third is
claimed by the King; then comes the local chief: so that
finally the unfortunate cultivator gets less than one-fifth of
the crop he has raised. It is no wonder that the people are
poor, and that in times of drought, or when the locusts sweep
over the land, or the rebels, more destructive still, carry off
crops and herds and flocks, famine stalks through the land.
There is no doubt that our mastership would be an unmixed
blessing to them, but it would certainly be the very reverse
of advantageous to ourselves. From our landing at Zulla
to the present time we have passed through a country more
barren than any I ever traversed. Except for grazing purposes
it is absolutely valueless. Here and there, in the
valleys, are little patches of cultivation by the side of the
streams; but in the whole two hundred miles we have passed
through, looking east and west as far as the eye can reach, I
do not think that we have seen, in all, five hundred acres
of cultivated land. Taking the two hundred miles north and
south by, say, ten miles east and west—in all, two thousand
square miles—I would not take the fee-simple as a gift. I
am not, of course, suggesting that the ground we have
traversed is to be taken as a fair sample of Abyssinia.
Unquestionably it is not so. It would be as fair to land in
the north of England, and to skirt the sea-coast, keeping
on the Cumberland, Westmoreland, Lancashire, Welsh, and
Cornwall hills, and then to pronounce England a sterile
country. Still, by what we have seen, by the ranges of
mountain-summits discernible everywhere in the far west,
it is evident that a very large portion of Abyssinia is mere
grazing-land; and it is probable that the valleys and low-lying
plains, which are extremely fertile, would be unhealthy for
European constitutions. Whatever ideas may have been
entertained at one time as to our taking possession of a
country so rich, so fertile, and so salubrious as this was
represented to be, the experience of this expedition must
have entirely dispelled this notion. The general aspect of
the country is so bare, the fertile portions so distant from the
coast, the roads so impracticable, that any idea of English
colonisers settling here, as suggested by Mr. Dufton and
others, is simply preposterous; and in addition to all this, a
very large force would be required to keep a warlike and
turbulent people in order. We see by the English papers
that A British Taxpayer
has been writing indignantly,
demanding why two or three thousand men were not sufficient
for this paltry business. If the British Taxpayer had
been out here, he would not have asked such a question.
British soldiers are by no means men to overrate difficulties,
or to hold their enemies at higher than their real value.
But the universal opinion here is, that we have not one man
too many in the country. The tribes of Shohos on the sea-coast;
the King of Tigre, who can summon 20,000 or 30,000
men to his banner; the fierce Gallas, through whom we have
still to pass,—all these have been, and probably will be,
friendly. But why? Simply because we are strong enough
to keep them in order. No one doubts for a moment that if
they thought that they were strong enough, they would fall
upon us instantly for the sake of plunder. If the three thousand
men who, according to this critic, would have been
amply sufficient, could have been endowed with the agreeable
faculty of going for three months without food, and if
their horses had been similarly gifted, they would without
doubt have been amply sufficient. Three thousand British
soldiers, as long as they keep together in a compact body,
could march from the Mediterranean to the Cape of Good
Hope. But, unfortunately, men and animals who can go for
three months without food are scarce in these degenerate
days. Our experience here is that, with the exception of
meat, no food whatever is procurable between Zulla and our
present most advanced post, with the solitary exception of
Antalo. Grain for the animals is almost as scarce. We
have bought small quantities, indeed, at most of the stations,
but we never get it for the first few days after our arrival.
It is only after we have been at a place for a short time, and
when the people find out how large a sum we pay for it,
that they bring in even small quantities. Then the problem
would present itself: these three thousand men must be fed.
To be fed, they must carry supplies with them. These supplies
must be conveyed upon baggage-animals. These baggage-animals
must be fed. But there is no food to be
obtained as they march on direct. Therefore, it is evident
that dépôts must be formed, and these must be guarded;
communication must be kept up, roads must be made to some
extent, for there are many places perfectly impracticable for
loaded animals. And so the three thousand men would be
frittered all over the country, and would be harassed to
death by overwork and watching, and it is certain they could
never penetrate to Magdala. Has a Taxpayer
ever read
the history of the French campaign in Spain? Has he any
idea of the number of hundred thousand men who marched
into that country, and of the numbers who returned to
France? A very small proportion of the deficit fell under
British steel and lead. They were accounted for by the
peasantry. They died, shot down upon baggage-guard, cut
off when in search of provisions, surprised when in small
parties, harassed to death by overwork. Such would have
been the fate of three thousand men landing in Abyssinia.
The people here are as brave as the Spaniards, the country is
beyond all comparison more difficult, and the resources which,
it offers to an invader are as nothing to those of Spain.
Our force, as it is now constituted, is sufficient to overawe
the country, and it is fortunate that it is so. For I say fearlessly,
and there is not an officer here who would not support
me in that opinion, that if the people were hostile, we could
not even with our present force have ever hoped to reach
Magdala. It would have been a sheer impossibility. A
mere passive resistance, the driving away of flocks and
herds, and the burning of the grass, would have brought us
to a standstill at Senafe; while the bare idea of defending our
communication, and guarding the enormous trains required
for our march of three hundred miles through a barren,
hostile, and most difficult country, is so supremely ridiculous
as to be laughable. The experiment of the three thousand
men, had it been tried, would have ended in a disaster such
as, with the exception of Cabul, the British arms have never
experienced, and it must afterwards have been retrieved with
a force of three times the strength even of our present one,
and at an expenditure which might have taught even the
British Taxpayer
that penny wisdom is an equivalent for
pound foolishness.
A general order has just appeared regulating the whole
distribution of the troops; and as this is a final arrangement,
it will no doubt be interesting to all who have friends in the
army here.
First Division.—Major-general Staveley, K.C.B., in
command; Colonel Wood, deputy-adjutant-general; Major
Baigrie, deputy-quartermaster-general. Pioneer Force: Brigadier-general
Field. Troops: forty sabres 3d Native Cavalry;
forty Scinde Horse; 3d and 4th company Bombay Sappers
and Miners; two companies 33d Regiment; two companies
Beloochees; one company Punjaub Pioneers.
First Brigade, Brigadier-general Schneider.—Troops:
Head-quarters wing 3d Dragoon Guards, 3d Native Cavalry,
Scinde Horse, G battery, 14, Royal Artillery, A battery 21st
company Royal Artillery, 4th King’s Own, Head-quarters
and eight companies 33d, 10th company Royal Engineers,
Head-quarters and two companies Beloochees, Head-quarters
wing 10th Native Infantry.
Second Brigade, Brigadier-general Wilby.—Wing of 12th
Bengal Cavalry, B battery 21st Royal Artillery, two 8-inch
mortars, with detachment 5th battery 25th Royal Artillery,
Rocket Naval Brigade, K company Madras Sappers, seven
companies Punjaub Pioneers, wing of Beloochees.
It will thus be seen that the 1st Division consists of four
entire infantry regiments—the 4th, 33d, Beloochees, and
Punjaub Pioneers—and a wing of the 10th Native Infantry,
of the 3d Native Cavalry, the Scinde Horse, a wing of the
Dragoon Guards, and a wing of the 12th Bengal Cavalry,
three batteries of Royal Artillery and two 8-inch mortars,
and three companies of Sappers and Miners and one company
of Royal Engineers; an admirably-selected force, and which,
as long as it kept together, would be invincible.
Another general order has also been promulgated, which
I have very great pleasure in giving, because it does full justice
to a most meritorious and hardworking body of officers.
I have the more pleasure in giving publication to the order,
as it thoroughly indorses the opinion I have all along stated
that the transport officers were in no way to blame for the
confusion which took place at Zulla:
General Order.—Head-quarters, Camp Antalo, March
4th.—The Commander-in-chief has lately received from the
Director Transport Train, Abyssinia field force, a full and
particular report of the service rendered to the corps by the
officers under his command. His Excellency has perused this
report with much satisfaction, and it is most gratifying to
him to find that, in spite of the numerous and extraordinary
difficulties with which the officers of the transport-train have
had to contend, and notwithstanding the hard and unceasing
work they have had to perform, they have, almost without
exception, displayed an amount of steady determination to do
their best which is beyond all praise. The Commander-in-chief
begs to assure Major Warden and the officers under his
command that the work performed by them has not been
overlooked, and shall not be forgotten. His Excellency trusts
that one and all will remember that upon their individual
exertions depends, in a great measure, the success of the
expedition. The transport-train, for reasons far beyond
the control of the officers belonging to it, has just commenced
to assume that military organisation so requisite to its well-being,
and for want of which at first it suffered so severely....
The Commander-in-chief is well aware how much
the services of the officers of the transport-train have been
depreciated, and how unfairly blame has been attached to
them for shortcomings beyond their control. His Excellency,
however, assures them that he has never for a moment lost
confidence in them, nor has he ever doubted that their exertions
would eventually bring order and regularity out of
confusion and indiscipline.... All cannot of course
work under the eye of the Commander-in-chief, and comparatively
few can accompany the advanced force; but his
Excellency will make no distinction when the campaign is
over between those who were in front and those who were
necessarily in the rear. All by good work can contribute
materially to the success of the campaign, and it will be by
that standard, and by that alone, that his Excellency will be
guided when making hereafter his report upon the services
performed by the officers under his command.—By order of
his Excellency the Commander-in-chief. Fred. Thesiger,
lieutenant-colonel, deputy-adjutant-general.
Never was liberal praise more deserved, and it will be
most gratifying to the men who have slaved and toiled almost
night and day in the face of every possible discouragement.
Meshech, March 14th.
We have advanced two days’ marches into the Abyssinian
hills, and at every step forward we see more clearly the
difficulties with which we have to struggle. The first day’s journey
was to Musgee; an easy march of eight miles across an
undulating plain. At Musgee we found the two companies of
the 33d, two of the 10th Native Infantry, and the Sappers
and Miners, who constitute the pioneer force. They had just
come in, recalled from the hard and unprofitable labour in
the defile, and now prepared to set to work anew upon the
new route. They report the pass as a tremendous defile,
and say that the detachment of Scinde Horse have lost no
less than seven horses either from falls or from over-fatigue.
We were amused at the natives who came round, and absolutely
made fun of the soldiers for their unsuccessful attempts
at making roads in impassable places, when there
was a good road ready at hand. The head-quarters and the
other three companies of the 33d, and the company of the
Punjaub Pioneers, were near the other end of the defile, and
they had orders to push straight on to Attala, and begin to
improve the road from the other end. At Musgee we had
clear running water, which was really enjoyable after the
stagnant stuff we had been drinking at Antalo. On the
morning of the 13th Sir Robert Napier started with his staff
and an escort at seven o’clock. The rest of the force left at
ten precisely. The march was eight miles—a short distance
apparently; but when I state that a great number of the
animals did not arrive until eight in the evening, it will be
at once seen that it was very much harder work than it
appears at first sight. The first three or four miles of this
road, or rather track, led along the hill-side, and then as the
valley narrowed in, and its sides became very precipitous, it
kept along the bottom. There we crossed and recrossed a
little stream at least a dozen times; and much of the delay
and confusion was caused by mules insisting upon stopping
to drink, and thereby of course bringing the whole line to a
stop. This part of the march was by far the prettiest and
most English we have seen out here. We were travelling in
a grove of trees, with a thick underwood, except just where
a path was cut wide enough for a single mule to pass. A
really good-sized streamlet of clear water wound here and
there, with quiet pools, and bright tumbling little cascades.
Under our feet was a cool greensward, over our heads a
shady screen of foliage. Imagine the charm of such a scene
to us, who, except in an occasional secluded dell, have
scarcely seen a tree, or felt shade, or heard the plash of
falling water for months. How we should have liked to
have halted, and to have enjoyed the turf and the shade for
an hour or two! All our attention was required, however,
for the work in hand, for in many places we had very rough
bits, and the wood-nymphs and dryads must have been sorely
startled at the shouting and tumult which arose in their quiet
shades. On each side of us the mountains rose to a great
height, crowned with perpendicular precipices, on one of
which, seemingly accessible only to a bird, was the stronghold
of some border chief. Presently the mountain sides receded
a little, and we emerged into a small plain. In the centre
of this ran the stream, and by its side were some very large
trees, which I can best describe by saying they resemble oaks
with willow-leaves. Here we encamped.
The troops had taken four hours to do the eight miles;
but the commissariat animals, as I have stated, were more
than double that time upon the road. Both at Musgee and
here there is a great lack of grain for the animals. One
pound of grain was all they got yesterday, and to-day at
twelve there is to be a similar large issue. If this sort of
thing continues, the animals must inevitably break down.
The drivers, after their day’s work was over, did go up into
the hills and cut some grass; but the coarse grass contains
very little nourishment, and the horses refuse to eat it. The
mules eat it, indeed, but it can do them very little good. I
have all along in my calculations of the probable duration of
the campaign argued that we must expect to come to places
where forage was not procurable, and that if we came to a
place where for four days’ marches we could get no grain
and but little grass, that we must come to a standstill and
form dépôts. Of course the difficulty will be proportionately
greater when we have the whole advance force, with its
thousands of cavalry-horses and baggage-animals with us.
We were to have started this morning at seven o’clock; but
a messenger arrived at two this morning with a letter from
the Commander-in-chief to General Staveley, saying that
the road was so bad that we must halt for a day to enable
the pioneer force to smooth some of the most impracticable
places. We have also news of the head-quarters and three
companies of the 33d who had pushed on by the Phayre
road to Attala. They had a distance of fourteen miles to go,
four of which they had comparatively cleared. They started
early, and they got in the following day at twelve o’clock,
having been twenty-eight hours on the road. The pioneer
force is hard at work upon the road ahead, and to-morrow
morning we start for Attala. It is stated to be an eight-mile
march; but I hear that the opinion of those who have gone on
is, that it is a good thirteen. At Attala I anticipate that we
shall wait some days-that is, if forage is obtainable. Everything
must now depend upon this vital point. We must
push-on to some place where abundant forage can be obtained,
and we must then wait for the remainder of the force
to come up. This must entail a halt of some days, whenever
it is; for the 3d Dragoon Guards and the 12th Bengal
Cavalry were both some marches’ distance from Antalo when
we left, and they will, of course, have to make a halt of a
day or two at that place upon their advance, to rest their
animals. I hear that in the neighbourhood of Lât there
is plenty of forage; in that case Lât will probably be our
halting-place, if we find we cannot obtain sufficient grass and
grain at Attala. Sportsmen have been looking forward to
our arrival at Lake Ashangi, as game is likely to be abundant
in that neighbourhood, especially wild-fowl. We have
received a letter from Mr. Massinger, which shows that any
attempt at wild-fowl shooting either at early dawn or at dusk
is likely to be attended with some little danger. It is, he
says, very difficult, and even dangerous, to approach the
shores of the lake. They are very flat, and the whole surface
of the ground has been broken up into chasms and crevasses,
which are filled with soft mud, and are not easily distinguishable
from the surrounding soil. A long stick plunged into
the soft mud found no bottom, and a person falling into one
of these would, unless immediate assistance was at hand, be
inevitably lost. The natives say that these crevasses were all
formed by an earthquake which took place about three years
ago. Previous to that time the lake had an outlet through
which the overflow water made its way into the Tacazze.
This outlet is now stopped, and the water has risen and filled
all these chasms made by the earthquake.
Mahkan, March 16th.
My last letter was dated from the pretty camping-ground
bearing the scriptural denomination of Meshech. Thence to
Atzala was a march of thirteen miles. The road led up the
valley, as upon the previous day, for about six miles, and
then we had a long, but fortunately tolerably gradual, climb
up the saddle of the ridge. On the right of the summit of
the pass is the Amba of Waldo: it is considerably the highest
peak in the neighbourhood,—isolated, four-sided, and apparently
perpendicular. As far as we could see, there were no
walls or artificial defences. The huts which contain the garrison
are built on ledges upon the face of the rock. Ledge
is hardly the proper expression; for a ledge is a projection,
whereas the huts are built in deep scores which run round
the face. The rock overhead completely overhangs them;
so that they are to a certain extent sheltered from the wind,
which would, at an elevation of 12,000 feet above the sea, be
otherwise almost unbearable in such an exposed condition.
Waldo himself was at the top of the pass when we went
along. He is a man of about thirty-five, with a very intelligent
and pleasing face. A number of his warriors attended
him, and he was very much interested in our various uniforms
and appointments. He chatted for some time with General
Staveley, who fired-off his revolver for his edification. The
articles, however, that pleased him most were telescopes and
field-glasses, and he expressed a strong desire for one. He
was evidently acquainted with their use, for he shut one eye
and examined the country through my telescope with a nautical
air which would have done no discredit to the most
aspiring midshipman. The Commander-in-chief presented
him with an excellent glass on the following day; and he
will now from his eyrie be able to see any advancing foe in
ample time to make his preparations for defence.
The descent from the top of the pass was much steeper
and more severe than the ascent had been, and the train of
mules was a very long time making its way to the bottom.
Every animal that fell, every load which shifted, brought the
whole line to a standstill. However, patience and care will
effect wonders; and we got to the foot of the steep portion
without a casualty among the animals.
At Attala, or Atzala, as I find it is more correctly spelt,
we found the Commander-in-chief encamped with the head-quarter
wing of the 33d and a small escort of Scinde Horse
and the 3d Native Cavalry. The Commander-in-chief intends,
I believe, in future to accompany the Pioneer Force, and to
judge for himself as to the capabilities of the roads, and to
direct the work to be done to make them passable by the
main body. Colonel Phayre will, however, still continue a
couple of days’ march ahead, with a small escort. Sir Robert
Napier gets through an immense quantity of work in the
course of a day; and the following order, which has been
lately issued, shows that he is unable to trust the political
business, such as it is, out of his own hands, but is compelled
to be his own political officer, as well as his own explorer:
The Commander-in-chief directs that in future all reports
forwarded for his information by officers in the intelligence
department may be sent to the political secretary, through
the general or other officer commanding the division or post
in which they may be serving. In special cases, where a
more immediate communication to his Excellency may seem
expedient, reports may be sent direct; copies of them,
however, being at once furnished to the officer’s immediate military
superior. All instructions for the guidance of officers in
the intelligence department will be sent to them by Captain
Tweedie, political secretary, who must be considered as the
sole officer authorised to convey to them his Excellency’s
commands.
Atzala is situated in an extensive basin, apparently surrounded
upon all sides by lofty hills. The abundance which
we found at Antalo still continues, and the commissariat are
able to purchase grain for the animals. I found upon my
arrival in camp that Sir Robert Napier intended to push on
at once with the Pioneer Force, leaving Sir Charles Staveley
to follow, with an interval of a day or two, to allow the road
to be improved. Sir Robert has also sent back for the light
guns of Twiss’s Mountain Train, and for the Naval Rocket
Brigade, both of which formed part of the 2d Brigade, according
to the published list. There are two explanations of
this order; the one being that he finds the roads so bad that
he thinks it will perhaps be impossible to bring the heavy
guns of Murray’s battery on without great loss of time; the
other theory is, that he is now convinced that we shall have
to fight at Magdala, and wishes to arrive there with as strong
a force of artillery as possible. The advices from Magdala
tell us that Theodore had received exact intelligence of our
whereabouts and rate of moving; and that whereas, believing
us to be nearer, he had decided upon waiting at Dalanta;
and he has now pushed on with the greatest energy, and
arrived with his guns and convoy quite close to Magdala.
This is, I think, the best news we could receive. Theodore
has evidently made up his mind to await us at any rate in
his fortress. He may fight, he may pretend friendship, and
offer us the prisoners; but, at any rate, he will be there:
whereas, if he had not been able to reach Magdala, he might
have retired at our approach; and if he had ever taken to the
hills, our expedition would have been almost interminable:
once in Magdala, and surrounded, we are sure of him. Magdala
may be, and I believe is, very strong, and may hold
out for weeks; but we know that sooner or later we must
have it. I believe that the guns we have will be useless,
except for their moral effect upon the enemy. A shell thrown
on to the summit of a rock fortress when the garrison were
sheltered behind great boulders, or in caves or crevices, might
alarm them, but would probably do very little harm. Our
stock of missiles is very limited, and we shall probably have
to take the place at last by assault. If Magdala at all approaches
Waldo’s fortress in strength, an assault in the face
of some thousands of determined men, commanded by a desperate
chief like Theodore, will be no child’s-play even for
British troops. A few stones rolled down would sweep the
path of a whole line of stormers. A breastwork of great
boulders rolled into position from above would baffle the
bravest. People talk lightly of Magdala and its savage garrison;
but if they prove true to their king, it will prove as
hard a nut as British prowess ever had to crack. Officers
speaking to me upon the subject have argued Magdala is
probably not so strong as many of the hill-forts in India
which we have in our time taken. This is no doubt true; as
is the fact that the defenders of these hill-forts were as brave,
and were in addition much better armed than are the garrison
of Magdala. But, on the other hand, the defenders of
Indian hill-forts knew what British troops were; they knew
that our power was almost infinite; that we were the masters
of all India; and that sooner or later we could accumulate
force enough to capture even the most seemingly impregnable
fortress. It was, they knew, a mere question of time with
us. However physically brave, the knowledge that final over-throw
is certain, will to a great extent paralyse the efforts of
any body of men. The reverse of all this is the case with
Theodore’s soldiers. They have never fought but to conquer;
they have a fanatical persuasion of the might of their leader,
and believe in his star; they have been always told that
Magdala is impregnable. For their enemies they have neither
fear nor reverence. The few white men they have seen have
been men of peace—missionaries and such-like—living but
by their sufferance, and now for years held in the degrading
position of captives. Theodore has impressed them with the
belief that we are a mere nation of traders, and that although
we manufacture good guns, and can use them at a distance,
yet that we are wanting in courage, and no match for his
men in a hand-to-hand fight. Doubtless, too, he will impress
upon them the fact that we cannot have brought a large
stock of ammunition for our guns across this long and difficult
route; and that therefore his men have only to keep
quiet and let us expend our missiles, and that then our power
of doing harm will be at an end. He has, too, promised that
they shall divide among themselves all our treasure and spoil;
and as by this time they have probably heard that we are
absolutely strewing the country with dollars, their idea of our
probable spoil must be something magnificent.
However, the problem of war or peace will soon be solved.
At the rate at which we are now proceeding, another three
weeks will see us in front of Magdala. Indeed, if we continue
to press forward at the present rate, we should be at
our journey’s end in a fortnight, or, rather, we should be
there if the whole of the mules did not die. To-day’s march
has been fifteen of the longest and heaviest miles ever traversed,
with scarcely a mile of level ground the whole distance.
The difficulty began at the very start, for we had
at once to climb a high and steep hill, and to descend at
once on the other side. So long a time did this occupy,
so many were the stoppages and breakdowns, that although
the first of the train started before seven, it was ten before
the last of the convoy of six hundred had even commenced
the ascent. The Commander-in-chief was not to start till
one o’clock, and a small party of mules would leave at that
time with his tent, &c. I therefore had, very fortunately as
it turned out, resolved not to start my animals until the same
time. After passing over the first hill, we came to another,
which was the highest we had yet come to, being two hundred
feet higher than the summit of the pass upon the preceding
day. The ascent, although very long, was not very
steep; indeed, all the hills we have crossed are much more
precipitous on the southern than on the northern side. Here
our difficulties commenced; for at the top of the hill were
numbers of the animals who had started five hours before
us. The descent was blocked up, and for ten minutes at a
time everyone was brought to a stand-still. Great was the
noise, tremendous the shouting in various languages. Once
upon the descent of the hill, everyone kept in single file; but
the confusion was greatest at the top, as everyone strove to
get his own animal first upon the track. Here were Beloochees,
Scinde Horse, Engineers, 33d men, and 3d Native
Cavalry, all trying to insinuate the animals of which they
were in charge into the straight line. Not unfrequently
some unfair effort to interlope ended in well-merited punishment,
by one of the mules getting jammed between others,
and his load pulled back over his tail. At last we got our
animals fairly on to the descent, which was very steep and
winding, and then there was nothing for it but patience.
With our own animals we had no trouble, for we had long
ago found out that although a string of four animals goes
well enough along a plain, the only way to get them down
steep places, or over very rough ground, is to unfasten them,
and to make a servant go to each mule’s head. In this way,
if the loads are properly packed upon Otago saddles, they
will go anywhere; the mules can pick their way without
being hurried, and the loads will not shift; whereas the government
mules, being fastened three or four in a string,
under the charge of a single driver, are continually coming
to grief. The leading mule steps over stones or down steep
places with comparative ease, and when on level ground
steps boldly forward; while the unfortunate animals behind
him, who are still on the difficult ground, are unable to pick
their way, their heads are pulled into the air, they hang back
and vainly resist, and either lie down at once, or are pulled
off their legs. The present state of the Bombay saddles assists
to aggravate the evil. The leather loops which were attached
to them, and through which the ropes which fastened the
baggage passed, are now in a majority of cases torn off, and
the consequence is, that the load at once slips forwards or
backwards immediately the animal gets upon an incline, and
the saddle remains on the back, while the load rolls off. The
mountain-side was thickly covered with shrubs; and as we
went down in a long confused line, with the baggage-guard
scattered at intervals along it, most of the men being
incessantly employed in repacking the loads, with their arms
piled near them while they did so, one could not but reflect that
we shall have to travel in a very different fashion when we
approach Magdala. Two or three hundred men, armed only
with spears, concealed among the bushes, and rushing out
at a given signal, could have annihilated the whole convoy
before a bayonet could have been fixed or the slightest resistance
offered. I believe that it is settled that we shall take
no tents forward with us for the last three or four days’
marches; and this, with the fact that a comparatively small
number of mules will be required for the commissariat stores,
will diminish our train to one-fourth of the present size. If
Theodore has made up his mind to fight, there is little doubt
that he will begin while we are in the passes. He has always
been famous for his night-attacks, and we have been especially
warned to beware of sudden attacks. The King of
Tigre was very impressive on this score. Waldo, the other
day, also warned us most earnestly to be upon our guard
night and day. We had a turn-out of the troops this morning
at Atzala. It took place at about ten in the morning,
and was for a few minutes quite an exciting affair. With
the exception only of Sir Charles Staveley and a few of his
personal staff, no one knew whether it was a real alarm or
not. We were now in the Gallas country, where we had
been told to expect raids, and it was quite possible that the
convoy, the rear of which was still mounting the hill, had
been suddenly attacked. When, therefore, the first bugle
sounded the alarm, and after a pause sounded again and
again, quite a thrill ran through the camp. All the regimental
bugles repeated the calls, and the camp presented
the appearance of an ant-hive suddenly disturbed. The men
tumbled out from their tents in hot haste, buttoning-up their
tunics and buckling-up their belts; the cooks and butchers
left the half-cut-up carcasses, to run to their tents for their
arms and accoutrements; officers shouted for their swords;
the men who were out for wood or water came scampering
up; the mule-drivers rapidly drove in the animals which were
grazing on the plains; the dhoolie-bearers mustered round
the palkees; the grasscutters buckled on swords of various
descriptions; and I observed my servant busily engaged in
loading a great double-barrelled pistol. The result showed
that an enemy must manage to creep up very close before
being observed, to catch us unawares. In two minutes and
a half from the first bugle, the 4th were drawn up in close
order in front of their lines, and being joined by the Beloochees,
marched off, throwing out skirmishers before them.
In another five minutes the Mountain Artillery were in motion,
and the 3d Native Cavalry, who had, when the alarm
sounded, been in their native undress, had dressed, saddled,
and were dashing across the plain. A little in rear of the
infantry the dhoolie-bearers were staggering along with their
palkees, and an apothecary was in full chase with an armful
of splints and bandages. It is evident that we shall not be
caught asleep. Alarms of this sort do good occasionally, but
should not be too often repeated, or the men get so accustomed
to the cry of Wolf!
that they will not believe it
when the real animal makes his appearance.
But I am leaving myself and my mules an unconscionable
time upon the hill; scarcely, however, so long as I was there
in reality, for it was getting dusk when I reached the foot,
just three hours after my arrival at the top. There was no
camp in sight, and, although we knew it was still six miles
distant, we were ignorant of the direction in which it lay.
Fortunately, none of the loads had shifted, and we were
thus enabled to push past great numbers of animals who
were standing with their loads upon the ground beside them.
It was a very weary and unpleasant six-miles’ march. There
was no moon, and it soon became extremely dark; and as
the way was a mere track, we were quite ignorant whether
we were going in the right direction or not. Of course we
followed mules in front of us, but there was no knowing
whether they were going right—for a mule stopping for a
minute, for a readjustment of the load, would lose sight of
the one in advance, and would be just as likely as not to go
in the wrong direction, and inevitably be followed by all in
his rear. The way was across an undulating plain, with
many deep nullahs covered with trees, and so dark that we
could not see our horses’ ears. There was very little shouting
now; everyone rode or walked along in a sort of sulky
silence; the pace was of the slowest, the mules being scarcely
able to crawl along. We could not pick our way, for we
could not see the ground. Some got off and led their horses,
others trusted to their horses’ eyes, and it was astonishing
how well the animals picked their way; still there were some
awkward falls. Even if one escaped these greater dangers,
it was not pleasant to be caught by a bramble suddenly between
the eyes, or to be nearly borne over the crupper of the
horse by a stiff bough under the chin. At last, just when
we had arrived at the conclusion that we must have missed
our road, and that it would be better to draw off the way and
pitch our tent until daybreak, we saw the camp-lights in the
distance, and, after another mile’s travelling, arrived here,
as I began this letter by saying, at half-past nine o’clock.
Ashangi Lake, March 19th.
I finished my last letter on the night of my arrival at
Mahkan, very tired, very hungry, and a good deal out of
temper. We halted at Mahkan on the 17th, as the animals
imperatively needed a day’s rest. There can be no question
that these very long marches are a mistake in every way.
Many of the animals which started at seven in the morning
did not get in until ten or eleven o’clock next day; and
fatigue of this sort, together with an almost starvation diet,
is too much for any animals. The number which actually
died upon the road was very small—only three or four, I am
told; but then the animals have had a rest at Antalo, and
have still some little strength left. I have no hesitation, however,
in saying that three or four such marches as this would
find the great majority of the transport-train animals hors de
combat. It is terribly fatiguing too for the troops. Nor is
anything gained by it. The old proverb, the more haste
the less speed,
is amply verified. We did fifteen miles, and
then had to halt a day; whereas had we halted at a spring
at the foot of the steep descent, six miles from Mahkan, the
animals could have easily marched some miles beyond Mahkan
on the following day. Fifteen miles over a flat country is
one thing, fifteen miles over a succession of mountains, with
a rifle, sixty rounds of ammunition, and etceteras, is quite
another; and I sincerely trust that we shall not again attempt
such a tremendous march as this.
The mule-train is at present all that can be desired. The
number of animals attached to the advanced division is 8000,
and comprises the Lahore mule-train, the Raul Pindee
mule-train, and the A and D divisions of the transport-train. I
have had occasion more than once to speak of the efficiency
of the Lahore and Pindee trains, which arrived from Bengal
in the most perfect order, and which, being marched straight
to Senafe, did not share in the general disruption at Zulla.
The A division, under Captain Griffiths, I have also spoken
of, as being in excellent condition. This is the division which
went up with the exploring party to Senafe, and staying there,
partially escaped the crash. The D division is commanded
by Captain Twentyman; an officer whose energy and devotedness
at Zulla during the worst times helped to pull the transport-train
through its greatest difficulties, as I had the pleasure
of testifying at the time. These four divisions are under
the control of Captain Hand, of the Lahore mule-train, who
has been appointed their director. He is an able and energetic
officer, and his management of the train gives the highest
satisfaction. The transport-train authorities at Zulla have
nothing whatever to do with the advanced portion, which is
under the sole orders of Captain Hand.
On the morning after our arrival at Mahkan the wing of
the 33d was sent on to make the road, the head-quarter camp
remaining with only the escort of the 2d Horse and 3d Cavalry.
In the afternoon, however, a party of Beloochees and
Punjaub Pioneers came in. During the day a man came in
with one of the curious lozenge-shaped guitars I have already
described, and kept up a monotonous chanting for some time.
The words Magdala and Tèdros were the only words generally
recognised; and it was supposed that he was singing some
song he had composed in our honour. An interpreter, however,
who happened to come up, undeceived us by explaining
that the singer, relying upon our ignorance of the language,
was reciting our certain defeat, and the vengeance that Theodore
would take upon us. I have no fear of the man turning
out a true prophet; but it is certain that the people of the
country generally look upon our chance of victory over Theodore
as being a very poor one indeed. Yesterday morning
we started at eight o’clock on our march to this place, and,
owing to the 33d having gone on, our baggage-train was
much smaller, and the difficulties and delays proportionately
less. We found, upon mounting the first hill, that we had
come on an entirely new and agreeable phase of Abyssinian
scenery. Instead of the bare hills and plains over which, interspersed
with wooded valleys, we had journeyed since we
entered Abyssinia, we were transported at one bound into the
very heart of Switzerland. Everywhere to the very mountain-tops
was a pine-forest. In some places the trees grew
closely together, with a thick underwood, which shut-in the
path on both sides, and through which the road had been partially
cleared by the 33d. At other times the trees were more
thinly scattered about, or stood in clumps, affording every
variety of park-like scenery. It was a delightful ride for
about six miles through these, the road being smooth and
easy. At the end of that time our difficulties began, the way
lying over and along steep and very rocky hills covered with
forest and brushwood. The General had expected to have
found the road to a certain extent cleared by the 33d, but
owing to an error, for which Major Cooper was in no way to
blame, they had scarcely begun their work when we passed,
instead of having been engaged upon it for twenty-four hours.
Their orders had been to encamp at a stream five miles on
from Mahkan, and then to set to work upon the road; and
as they had started twenty-four hours before ourselves, it was
anticipated that the road would be perfectly practicable for
mules by the next day. The 33d were, however, furnished
with no guide, and the spring was not visible from the line of
march; consequently they marched past it, and did not find
out their error until they were miles ahead. Major Cooper
then determined upon the best course to be pursued, namely,
to march straight on to this station, to encamp there, and to
march his men back at daybreak to work upon the road.
They had done a good deal when we arrived; but of course
the mules stopped their work for a time. In some places the
track was very bad; and at one of these, a rocky wall along
a ledge, on the face of which we had to pass, I found Sir
Robert Napier himself engaged in planning another road to
avoid this obstacle, which was dangerous in a high degree for
loaded animals, as the projecting load nearly pushed each one
over the edge. No accident, so far as I heard, occurred, and
the delays were nothing like so long or tedious as those we
had incurred on many previous occasions, while the delightful
shade, the songs of innumerable birds, and the fresh odour of
the pine-trees rendered these halts most enjoyable. At last
we reached the summit of the last ascent, and below us, at a
distance of five miles, lay Lake Ashangi, a pretty sheet of
water of about three miles in diameter. Its shores are in
some places quite flat, but in others hills come down with
gradual slopes to its very edge. Looking at England for an
illustration, I should say that, except in being smaller, it more
resembles Ulleswater than any of our other north-country
lakes.
Beyond the lake several mountain-ranges rise one beyond
another, and offer no prospect of easy journeys for some time
to come. Our camp is pitched half a mile from the lake
upon ground which slopes gradually down to the water’s
edge, above the level of which we are probably elevated
thirty feet. The lake and its shores swarm with ducks and
geese. The latter are very tame, and walk about to graze in
the most unconcerned manner. A great many have been
shot, and are, although rather fishy, fair eating. The great
difficulty attending the sport is the exceedingly boggy nature
of the ground. The fissures spoken of by Mr. Munzinger,
and which I mentioned in my last upon the authority of his
letters, are simply nonsense. It is a large and in some
places a dangerous bog; but it is simply and purely a bog,
and nothing else. I was out yesterday with my gun, as were
a dozen others, and although I went in above my boots, I
came upon nothing really impassable, nor, with one exception,
did I hear of any one else doing so. Captain Hogg,
however, of the quartermaster’s department, got upon a very
bad part of the bog, and was some time finding his way out;
indeed, he fell into one deep place, where he would unquestionably
have lost his life had he not had a man with him,
who was able to put the end of his gun within reach of
Captain Hogg’s hand, and so draw him out of the quagmire,
into which he was sinking fast. All round the level shore of
the lake, a belt of white mud of sixty or seventy yards wide
extends. Upon this the game congregate, and are safe from
the sportsmen, as the mud will not support a man’s weight,
and the dead birds could not be recovered. The geese in
plumage more resemble ducks than geese, being dark brown
and green, with a large white patch upon the under part of
the wing, and which only shows during their flight. A good
many escape, who would fall victims to large shot; but the
amount of ammunition in camp is scanty, and the shot
generally of small sizes, which merely rattle against a goose’s
feather at a distance of fifty yards.
To-day we have remained here quietly. Another durbar
has taken place; the ambassador, or nuncio—the latter, I
suppose, being the appropriate word—having come in from
the chief Ulem of the Gallas tribes. This man has immense
influence with the Gallas, who are Mahommedans; and it
was therefore a matter of great importance to conciliate
him as far as possible. I have already described two of
these official receptions, and as this was precisely similar to
those I have before written about, I need not enter into particulars.
The only variety was, that the proceedings opened
with a long letter from the Ulem to Sir Robert Napier. It
was of a most friendly character, and expressed the priest’s
concurrence in the belief which we hold in common,
namely,
he said, the Old and New Testament, and the
Koran.
I was not aware that the Koran was an essential
part of our creed, but I have learnt something from the
Ulem’s letter. Later on, too, he speaks of Mahomet as the
only true mediator. These, however, were not, apparently,
according to the Ulem’s view, points of vital difference, and
he accordingly states that he prays unceasingly in our behalf,
which is, at any rate, kind on his part. He warned us very
solemnly to be extremely watchful and ever upon our guard,
and the general tone of his letter was anything but hopeful.
He mentioned that it was the custom of the country to send
presents to travellers, and that he therefore sent the chief a
present, but that the greatest present he could give us would
be his prayers. One thing is certain, if his prayers are not
of vastly greater value than his other present, they will not be
of any great worth, for the material present was a pot of
honey, value one dollar. The chief of course replied civilly,
expressed our toleration of all religions and opinions, and
that we had many Mussulmans in our ranks, and stated our
friendly feelings towards the people of the country. He
wound up by giving presents of robes, &c., for the priests.
These robes were put upon the ambassador, who is a son of
the Ulem, and one of the most inane-looking young men I
have seen in Abyssinia. His face, as he was being invested
in the robes, was one of the most comic things I ever saw,
and the officers present had the greatest difficulty in restraining
their gravity. He looked exactly like a baboon
affecting humility. Later in the afternoon another chief
came in, preceded by tom-tom and flutes, and accompanied
by a considerable body of warriors. A remarkable thing
which I noticed then, and which I had not before seen, was
that they carried headless lances, in token of amity.
We had rather a curious scene this afternoon. A native
was detected in the act of thieving, and was sentenced by
Colonel Fraser, who acts as provost-marshal, to two dozen
lashes. His friends and relatives, however, made so great a
howling that the Commander-in-chief came out of his tent to
see what was the matter. Finding that the natives took the
matter greatly to heart, he gave the man over to be punished
by themselves; and after a palaver of an hour, he was sentenced
to pay one quarter of the value of the article stolen,
or to receive six blows with a stick. Mr. Speedy was about
to remonstrate with them upon the insufficiency of the punishment,
when the chief who had acted as judge drew him
aside, and stated that in the course of the examination they
had found that the offender was a Christian, whereas they
were themselves Mussulmans; and that if they were to punish
him as he deserved, it would cause a war. Throughout
Abyssinia,—that is, as far as we have travelled,—even where
Christians are in the majority, the Mahommedans look down
upon them; and there is no doubt that in a moral point of
view the Mahommedans are greatly the superior. Christianity
certainly does not work well among natives. Both in India
and here a Christian is by no means a man of high standing
either in respectability or morality. It is singular that the
abodes of the natives here are precisely similar to those at
Zulla. There they were built of wattles, with conical thatched
roofs. Since that time we have passed mud huts with flat
roofs, stone huts with flat roofs, stone huts with thatched
roofs, and now we have again come upon the Zulla type of
cottages, wattled walls with conical thatched roofs. The
villages are always perched upon eminences, and the houses
are crowded together and surrounded by a thick fence of
boughs, with the ends outwards like a military abattis. The
natives are not quite so dark as the people of Tigre, and are
not so well armed, for I have not seen any fire-arms among
them. Sir Charles Staveley has, I hear, arrived at Mahkan,
with the 4th, the 3d Native Cavalry, and Penn’s battery. He,
like ourselves, is engaged in road-making. The orders are,
that the pioneer force are to make the road practicable for
mules, and that General Staveley’s force is to make it practicable
for elephants. As elephants can go almost everywhere
that mules are able to do, he will not be long delayed, and
will probably arrive at Lât, which is two days’ march forward,
within a day or two of ourselves. It is probable that
we shall halt two or three days there, to allow the force to
concentrate. I hear that Twiss’s Mountain Train and the
Naval Rocket Brigade are only a march behind General
Staveley, and will arrive with him at Lât. I have seen to-night
that the 45th has also been ordered to come on at once,
to form part of the first division. This order will not only
give satisfaction to the regiment itself, but also to us all; for
the 45th is said to be one of the best and most efficient regiments
in India.
Lât, March 21st.
We had all looked forward to a halt at this place for at
least two or three days. This hope, however, has not been
realised; for we arrived this afternoon, and start again to-morrow
morning, at which time our real hardships may be
said to commence in earnest. But it is better, before I enter
upon this, to relate our doings of the last two days.
Leaving our camp near Ashangi, the road ran on level
ground parallel to the lake for a mile or so, and then, the
mountains approaching to the edge of the water, we had to
climb over the spur. The height was not very great, but it
was one of the roughest, and certainly the steepest climb we
have yet had. Once on the crest, the hill sloped gradually
down, and we presently came upon the water again near
the head of the lake. This spot was the next day the scene
of a fatal accident. Two or three officers came down to
shoot, and one of the birds fell into the water. One of
their servants, who was a good swimmer, at once went in to
fetch it out. It is probable that he was seized with cramp,
for he sank suddenly. Captain Pottinger at once jumped in,
and swam out to the spot, but was unable to see anything of
him. Our camping-ground was about two miles distant from
the head of the lake, upon flat ground. The distance from
Ashangi was little over six miles.
We halted here the next day in order to let General Staveley’s
Brigade reach Ashangi. This they did upon the day
after we had left it. There was considerable regret in camp
to hear that General Staveley himself, who had been attacked
at Atzala with acute rheumatism, was very much worse, and
had been carried in a palkee. He had entirely lost the use
of his limbs, and it was considered improbable that he would
be able to come on farther with the army. This would be a
very great loss for the expedition, and I sincerely hope that
their apprehensions will not be verified.
The morning of our halt, a general order was promulgated
which filled us with consternation. No baggage whatever is
to be henceforward allowed either for men or officers. Soldiers
are to carry their greatcoat, a blanket, and waterproof sheet,
in addition to their rifle, ammunition, havresack, &c. This
will bring the weight to be carried by each man up to fifty-five
pounds; an overwhelming weight over such a tremendous
country as that which we have to traverse, and beneath a tropical
sun. I question very much whether the men will be able
to stand it, and several of the medical staff to whom I have
spoken are quite of that opinion. What the roads are likely
to be, is manifest enough by a portion of the general order,
which says that in future no mule is to carry over 100
pounds; and yet the authorities put more than half that
weight upon a man’s shoulders. It is not even as if the
men had their knapsacks, in which the greatcoat, &c. could
be packed, and carried with comparative ease; they will
have to be slung over the shoulders by the coat-arms, and will
distress the soldier far more than they would have done if
carried in knapsacks. It was an extraordinary oversight
leaving the knapsacks behind at Antalo; for it was evident
even then that they would be required. Unmounted officers
are to have a greatcoat, blanket, and waterproof-sheet carried
for them, and mounted officers may carry what they can put
upon their horses. No baggage-animals whatever are to go
forward with luggage. The men are to be packed twenty in
a bell tent, and twelve officers are to have the same accommodation.
More than a fourth part of the soldiers are out on
picket and guard every night; therefore the number of men
in each tent will be practically about the same as the officers.
Fancy twelve officers in a tent! They will be packed like
herrings in a tub; and men are calculating to-day how many
square inches of ground each will possess. Everyone takes
it good-humouredly, and there is no grumbling whatever;
but for all that, it is rather a serious business. If it were for
two or three days, it would be all well enough; but Magdala
is a considerable distance from here. The Quartermaster-general’s
department talk about a six days’ march. Captain
Speedy says that sixteen is very much nearer the mark; and
as he has a knowledge of the country, while the Quartermaster’s
department have uniformly been wrong in their
distances, it is safe to assume that it is a fifteen days’ march;
that is to say, even without allowing a day for the capture
of Magdala, or for arranging matters there, we cannot be
back to Lât under a month. There is some talk of the baggage
coming up after us; but this will certainly not come to
anything. I know that we have barely animals enough with
us to carry our food, and every available mule in the rear is
coming on with Staveley’s Brigade. We may, then, calculate
with tolerable certainty that we shall not get any of our
baggage until we return to Lât, which, at the very earliest, will
be a month hence, and not improbably twice that time. We
are told that the cold at night is very great on ahead, and
that the rains are heavy and frequent. It is therefore a very
serious matter for men to start without a single change of
clothes of any kind. Putting aside the rain, the men will
suffer so greatly from the heat, and from the labour of climbing
mountains with so heavy a load upon their backs, that it
would be a most material matter for them to have at any rate
a dry flannel-shirt to put on when the cold evening wind
begins to blow. Time will show how the men stand it; but it
is certainly a hazardous experiment.
This morning we started for this place. Lât has always
been spoken of as a place where we should halt and form a
dépôt, and we had therefore expected to have found a large
village; but as far as I have seen, there is not a native hut in
the neighbourhood. Upon leaving our last camping-ground,
we ascended a lofty and steep hill, and then had to wind for
a long distance upon a rocky ledge, where a false step would
have been certain death. After several minor rises and descents,
we came down to the valley in which the stream, near
which we are encamped, runs. Although there are no villages
in sight, there must be a considerable native population in the
neighbourhood, for a large number of natives have come in
with supplies. The officers of the transport-train are buying
every sword and spear brought in, for the use of the muleteers;
as, although Theodore is reported at Magdala, he might at
any moment make a sudden march down with a few thousand
men, and might be upon us before we knew that he
was within fifty miles’ distance. Should we be attacked in
one of these gorges, or on a narrow ledge with a precipice
below, scattered as we should necessarily be over an immense
length of road, Theodore might, by a sudden attack
upon our baggage, do such damage in a few minutes, that
we might be obliged to retire to Antalo, to fetch up fresh
supplies. There is no disguising the fact, that in making our
rush from such a long distance we are running no inconsiderable
risk.
Sir Robert Napier’s original plan was to have formed a
dépôt with five months’ provisions at some place about half-way
between Antalo and Magdala, and to have marched forward
from that place with two months’ provisions. Instead
of this we are starting from Lât with only fifteen days’ provisions,
and there is no dépôt of any importance, nor will
there be, nearer than Antalo itself. The whole of the available
mules will accompany the advancing division, and we shall
have to depend entirely for future supplies upon the native
carriage. The stock of food we have with us will barely last
us to Magdala; we know not whether we shall be able to
purchase any flour on the way, or how we may fare for forage
for our animals. Between Antalo and Magdala are many
tribes and chiefs,—we have already passed Waldo Yasus and
the Gallas,—and some of these, after we have passed, may
take it into their heads to stop the native animals going up
with stores; and the whole of the system upon which we have
solely to depend would then break down, and our position
would be as precarious a one as it is possible to imagine. It
is indeed a tremendous risk to run; but then we are playing
for a very high stake. We are running a race with the rains.
If we were to stop here for a fortnight or three weeks, and to
send the whole of the transport animals down to Antalo to
fetch up more provisions, we should infallibly have to wait
out here over the rainy season; and the difficulties of provisioning
the force during that period, and the probable mortality
which might ensue, would be so great that Sir Robert
Napier no doubt considers himself justified in running a very
considerable risk in order to reach the sea-coast before the
rains. Of course the matter has been discussed and talked
over in every light among the officers; and the general opinion
is, that unless we obtain an unlooked-for supply, as we did
at Antalo, somewhere between this and Magdala, our position
will be a very critical one. With most other generals,
men would, I think, be inclined to take rather a gloomy view
of it; but everyone has such confidence in Sir Robert Napier
that they are quite content to leave matters in his hands.
Dildee, March 24th.
I sent off a very hurriedly-written letter two days since
from Lât. In these two days we have crossed thirty-one miles
of as rough a country as the warmest admirer of the desolate
and savage could wish to see. Around us, as far as the eye
could reach, was stretched a perfect sea of mountains; and
up and down these we have tumbled and stumbled—not a
few horses getting tremendous falls—from morning until
long after nightfall. It has been one long monotonous toil.
Sometimes we climb upon smooth slippery rock; then we
ascend steep paths covered with loose boulders of every size;
then we are upon a narrow ledge on a mountain’s face; then
we are crashing through thick bushes. One can no longer
keep count of the number of ravines we cross, for we climb
a dozen hills a day. It would puzzle even the engineers of
the Topographical Department to lay down this rugged and
broken country in a map. It would be as easy to make a
map of the Straits of Dover, and to draw each wave to its
proper scale. The toil of the troops during these two days
has been tremendous. The first day’s march was thirteen
miles; yesterday’s was eighteen,—many say it was twenty;
but I think a long eighteen was about the mark. Eighteen
miles would be a long march in England, but here it is a
tremendous journey. Each man is carrying with him ammunition,
&c.—fifty-five pounds—more than half a mule-load.
In addition to this, most of the troops are now upon baggage-guard,
and have to assist in constantly adjusting loads and
looking after the mules. Lastly, a fourth of the troops are
out every night upon picket. I had occasion, in a letter
written from Mahkan, to speak upon the cruel over-marching
of men and animals; but that was nothing to these two days’
marches. The country now is much rougher, the distances
longer, and the men have in addition to carry their kits. The
troops came in last night in a prostrate state; very many
did not come in at all. I should say that not more than half
the baggage arrived until this morning; and to add to the
other disagreeables, we had a tremendous thunderstorm about
eight o’clock, which wetted every soul, except the very few
who had been fortunate enough to get up their tents, to the
skin. The men have no change of clothes with them, and of
course had to sleep in their wet clothes. Of those who were
on the road when the rain began, some held on and came
straggling in up to ten o’clock; the greater number, however,
unrolled their blanket and waterproof-sheet, and lay
down where they were for the night. I say fearlessly that
such a march over such a country was never before made by
similarly-weighted men. Of course we have to halt to-day,
and then by to-night we shall have progressed a less distance
towards Magdala than we should have done had we made
three days’ marches of, say, eleven miles each. Nor is there
any reason why we should not have done so. We are fortunately
now in a well-watered country. Good-sized streams
run between each of the higher ranges, and we crossed four
or five of them yesterday.
General Staveley, who I am glad to hear is better, is only
one day in our rear. An officer has gone back this morning
to direct him to halt to-night at the stream three and a half
miles behind. The weather has been warmer for the last two
days, and this has of course increased the labour of the soldiers.
Had it not been for the frequent occurrence of water,
I do not think that one quarter of the troops would have
got in last night. Yesterday’s camp was admirably chosen
for defensive purposes, being surrounded on all sides by a
deep nullah. To-day’s camp is convenient, and is also defended
on one side by a nullah, but has the disadvantage
that the nullah is two hundred feet deep, and is extremely
precipitous, the water being only accessible even on foot at
two places, and consequently the difficulty of watering the
animals is very great. The water, however, and indeed all
that we have met with for the last day or two, is delicious.
This is indeed a treat. Hitherto the water has been singularly
nasty—thick and full of insects when stagnant, earthy
and bad-tasting when running. Here it is fresh, clear, and
pure. Rum is quite at a discount. The ravine through
which the stream runs is very picturesque. The slope is
steep, but well-wooded down to the bottom of the nullah;
but the stream itself has cut a way from twenty to thirty
feet wide through the solid rock at the bottom. The sides
are as perpendicular as walls, and are in some places
thirty feet deep. It is only, as I have said, at two points
that we can get down to the water. This narrow gorge is
overhung with trees, and in every cranny and on every tiny
ledge grow lovely patches of green ferns. It requires no
stretch of fancy to imagine oneself by the side of a pretty
mountain-stream in Wales or Ireland. The vegetation is too
bright and varied for a Highland stream. Nearly every
officer in camp, and a good number of the men, have been
down this morning for a bathe, which is doubly refreshing
after the fatigue of yesterday and the paucity of our present
washing appliances. The camp yesterday morning presented
quite an unusual appearance. The head-quarter camp had
shrivelled in dimensions from twenty tents down to four; and
outside of them, soon after daybreak, the whole staff might
be seen engaged in the various processes of washing and
dressing. Twelve men may manage to sleep in a tent, but
it is quite impossible that they can simultaneously dress there.
Not, indeed, that any of the tents contained their full complement.
Some had slung their blankets like hammocks upon
the trees; others were content to roll themselves in their
rugs, and sleep upon a waterproof-sheet under a bush; and
besides this there was a hospital-tent, and as there are no
sick, some of the officers were drafted off into this. Indeed,
all might have been very much more comfortable, had those
of their number who, like ourselves, have brought tentes
d’abri, been allowed to carry them on their horses. I was
very fortunate in getting into shelter before the storm came
on last night. I had ridden on before my spare horse, which,
with my tent and etceteras upon his back, was nearly at the
rear of the column. I arrived here about half-past four,
having been nearly nine hours upon the road; and I was
fairly exhausted when I got in from fatigue and want of food.
Fortunately, however, the natives had brought in bread for
sale, and after eating some of this, and going down to the
nullah for a bathe, I was quite restored again. I was not,
however, comfortable in my mind; for the clouds had been
banking-up fast, and the thunder had been almost incessant
in the hills for the last two hours. I could see by the baggage
which was coming in, that my animal could not, if he
kept his place in the line, be in for hours, if at all. When
I got up to the camp, I was delighted to see my little tent
pitched. My companion, who had been behind me, had,
finding that the road was badly blocked, got them along by
other paths, fortunately without more damage than one of the
horses falling over a precipice twelve or thirteen feet high,
into some bushes, which broke the animal’s fall. The horse
was but little hurt; and with this slight mishap, which is
nothing here, where horses and mules are constantly rolling
over steep places, he had succeeded in getting into camp
three or four hours before the animals could have possibly
reached it, had they kept in their original place in the line;
indeed it was most improbable that they could have got in
last night at all. The lightning during the next half-hour
was incessant, and before the dinner could be cooked, great
drops began to patter down. We shouted to the servants to
do the best they could for themselves with their blankets and
waterproof-sheets, while we took refuge in our little tent,
with an officer whose baggage, like that of the great majority,
had not arrived. In a minute or two, it came down almost in
a sheet. We lit our pipes, and consoled ourselves that if we
had nothing to eat, we were no worse off than anyone else,
whereas we were in shelter, while hardly another soul was so.
While thus philosophising to our own contentment, the front
of the tent was suddenly opened, and a hand was thrust in
with a dish of cutlets, then plates and knives and forks.
Our fellows had nobly stuck to their work, preferring to get
drenched to the skin rather than that their masters should
go without dinner. These Goa-men are certainly excellent
servants. They are not physically strong: they are quiet,
weakly-looking men, with little energy and no habitude to
hardships. They make capital hotel-waiters, but could scarcely
have been expected to have supported the fatigue of a campaign
like this. They do so, however, and seem none the
worse for it. Altogether they are worth any money upon
an expedition of this sort, and are infinitely more serviceable
than an English servant would be.
The storm ceased last night at about half-past ten. It
is now thundering among the distant hills, and it is evident
that we shall have, this afternoon, a repetition of last night’s
storm. It will, however, find us better prepared to withstand
it. The natives are bringing in an abundance of goods of all
kinds. Honey, grain, onions, goats, sheep, fowls, bread, and
eggs. The fowls and eggs are the first we have seen since
Attegrat. Prices rule about the same. Two little fowls, a
dollar; twelve eggs—about half of which average bad—at
the same price. A bottle of honey, a dollar, &c. Dear as
things are, it is unnecessary to say that they are all eagerly
bought up. We are accustomed to high prices now; and I
heard a soldier, who did not get in until this morning, say
that he paid a dollar in the night for a drink of water.
Of course we have now a constant succession of news from
the front. It is very contradictory, but the general report is
that Theodore is marching towards Dalanta, to attack us on
our way. Some of the spies assert that two o’clock on Friday
night is the hour fixed for our destruction. If Theodore
does mean, as is likely enough, to make a night attack, I do
not think he would be weak enough to let it be known many
hours beforehand as to where it will take place. However,
it is no use offering any speculation now upon events which
we may see determined in two or three days, and the result
of which will be known by telegraph long before this letter
can reach London.
Santarai, March 29th.
We are beginning to believe Magdala to be a fata morgana,
an ignis fatuus, which gets more and more distant the
nearer we approach it. At Dildee we were told that it was
only four marches distant. We have made three marches,
and have sixty more miles to go; and yet Magdala is not
more than twenty-five miles in a straight line, and is visible
from a point four miles distant from this camp. It is found,
however, that the country is perfectly impracticable, and that
we must take a detour of sixty miles to get there. I can
hardly imagine what this country in a direct line to Magdala
can be like, for we have passed over hundreds of miles which
no one would have imagined it possible for an army with its
baggage-animals to surmount. We have scaled mountains
and descended precipices; we have wound along the face of
deep ravines, where a false step was death; we are familiar
with smooth slippery rock and with loose boulders; and after
this expedition it can hardly be said that any country is impracticable
for an army determined to advance. I hear, however,
that between this and Magdala there are perpendicular
precipices running like walls for miles, places which could
scarcely be scaled by experienced cragsmen, much less by
loaded mules. We must therefore make a detour. It is
tiresome, for everyone is burning with impatience to be at
Magdala, and to solve the long-debated problems—will Theodore
fight? will he fight in the open, or defend Magdala?
or will he hand over the captives with an apology? and shall
we be content to receive one? I believe that I can answer
the last question with certainty. We shall not. If Theodore
sends in the captives we shall receive them, but shall certainly
exact retribution from him. We shall either take him
prisoner or compel him to fly. If we obtain the prisoners
unhurt, we shall still take Magdala. If he escape to the
mountains with a few adherents, we shall, in that case, be
content to retire, and to leave the task of hunting him down
to his numerous enemies; but if he murder the prisoners we
shall ourselves remain here until he is captured. I think I
may positively state that this, or something very like it, is
the tenor of the instructions given to Sir Robert Napier by
the Government; and I think that they will be heartily approved
by all, except by those negrophilists who deny that a
black man can do wrong. It would be impossible to allow
Theodore to go unpunished; indeed, it would be offering a
premium to all savage potentates in future time to make
prisoners of any English travellers who may fall into their
hands.
I now return to Dildee, from which place I last wrote,
while we were halting in consequence of the tremendous
march of the preceding day. Upon the evening of the day
upon which we halted we heard that General Staveley had
arrived with the force under his command at a stream five
miles in our rear, and had there halted. He had with him
the 4th, a wing of the 33d, six companies of the Punjaub
Pioneers, Twiss’s Battery, and the Naval Rocket Train. It
was decided that the wing of the 33d, who were with us,
should halt for a day, and should come on as a complete
regiment, and that the 4th, which is numerically much weaker
than the 33d, should push on with the advance. The
next day’s march was short, but severe, as we had to climb
a mountain 3000 feet above our camping-ground. It was
hard work, but was got over much more speedily than usual,
as the train was much smaller, owing to our diminished numbers;
and we had consequently fewer of the tedious blocks
so trying to both man and beast. The road was in most
places pretty good; but was dangerous for a long distance
where it wound along the face of a deep ravine. The country
here must be either much more densely populated, or the
people much more industrious than in most of the districts
over which we have passed; for there were patches of cultivation
to the very top of the mountain, which, where we
crossed it, was about 11,000 feet above the sea. The mountain
side was bare of trees, or even bushes; but, curiously
enough, very near the summit were large quantities of small
palm-trees, with thick straight stems, three or four feet high,
and clustered heads of spreading leaves. Several Indian
officers agreed with me in considering them to be a species
of palm, but we had no botanist amongst us, and it seemed
most unlikely that even dwarf palm-trees should be growing
in such a lofty and exposed position. I have only before seen
palm-trees twice in Abyssinia, once at Goun Gonna, where
two or three grew near the church, and in a valley between
Attegrat and Antalo.
Arrived at the top of the pass, we found ourselves at the
head of a deep ravine, on the side of which, a quarter of a
mile from the summit, it was decided that the camp should be
pitched. A more uncomfortable place for a camp could hardly
be imagined. The ground was ploughed, and was extremely
sloping. The supply of water was deficient, and was four or
five hundred feet below us, and the wind swept over the top
of the pass with piercing force. However, there was no help
for it. The 4th had started four miles behind us, and there
was no ground even so good as that selected for another seven
miles. Immediately on our arrival, and before the tents
were pitched, a tremendous shower came on, and everyone
got drenched before the baggage-animals arrived with the
tents. The black earth turned, as if by magic, into slimy
clay, and our position was the reverse of agreeable. Far
worse, however, was the condition of the 4th, which, having
halted at Dildee for two hours, did not arrive until between
eight and nine in the evening, wetted of course to the skin.
We now felt bitterly the inconvenience of not having even
one change of clothes with us. It could, however, have
hardly been foreseen that, after having had only two or three
showers since we arrived in Abyssinia, we were to be exposed
to heavy rains regularly every day, which has, with one exception,
been the case for the last week. As it is, it is impossible
to say how long we shall be in our present state of
only having the clothes we stand in. It is a week since we
left our little all behind us at Lât. We are still a week’s
march from Magdala, and may calculate on being fully a month
without our baggage. Officers have all managed somehow
to bring on a second shirt and pair of stockings; but the
soldiers have no change of any kind. For them, and indeed
for the officers, to be wetted through day after day, and to
have no dry clothes to put on, and this at an altitude of 11,000
feet above the sea, and when the cold at night is more pierceing
than anything I ever experienced, is trying in the extreme,
and a great many are already complaining of rheumatic
pains. That night at the top of the hill was the most
unpleasant that officers or men have passed since their arrival
in the country: wet through, cold, and lying upon
ground so steep that we kept perpetually sliding down off our
waterproof sheet. As to lying in the orthodox fashion, side by
side, with all the heels close to the pole, like the spokes of a
wheel, the thing was simply impossible. In many of the
tents the men’s feet would have been a yard higher than their
heads. However, there were few grumblings at the discomfort;
but I can answer that I for one was greatly pleased when
I saw daylight break, to get up from my uncomfortable sliding
couch. We were ordered to start at eight, but the men’s
things were still so wet that the march was postponed for two
hours, to allow the blankets and greatcoats to be dried in the
wind and sun.
Our next march was again only seven miles to a place
called Muja, not that there was a village of any kind there,
or indeed at eighteen out of twenty places we have stopped at.
To suppose that the natives have a name for every field is absurd.
Two speculations have been started as to how the
quartermaster-general’s department always obtain a name for
our camping-ground—the one is that they say something to
a native, and the first word he utters they put down at once
for the station; the other is that they draw a certain number
of vowels and consonants from a bag, drop them on the
ground, and see what word they form. It is certain that
scarcely a name corresponds with those set down in maps,
and instead of calling these flats and plains by any name the
first native may tell them, it would be much more sensible,
and would render it much more easy for an English reader to
follow our course, if our quartermasters were to take some
good map, and fix upon the name which most nearly corresponds
with the position of our camps.
The seven-miles road down to Muja was not difficult, but
was one of the most dangerous we have passed over. The path
for the whole distance wound along on the face of a deep
ravine. It was often little more than a foot wide, and was
formed sometimes upon rock, and sometimes on black earth,
which had been dried hard by the wind and sun before we
passed along it, but which if wet would have been perfectly
impassable. Had a storm come on when we were upon it,
we must have stopped to unload the animals. As it was,
only one stumbled and went over the edge, and was of course
killed.
We have had a good many casualties lately among the animals.
The Scinde Horse, too, have lost several horses, but this
is hardly surprising from the way in which they ride them. A
Scinde horseman, and I believe most of the native cavalry,
have an idea that it shows good horsemanship to ride a horse
up and down very steep places. It would be a great saving
of horseflesh if an order were issued that all native cavalry
should dismount and lead their horses up, if not down also,
long or steep hills. Our camping-ground at Muja was flat
and turfy, but it had the disadvantage of being a great height
above water. Sir Robert Napier himself upon his arrival rode
a couple of miles farther in search of some site more convenient
for watering the animals, but he was unsuccessful in
doing so. The camping-ground had also the disadvantage of
a very great scarcity of wood.
Our view from Muja was very striking. Six miles in
front, and a thousand feet below us, lay the valley of the
Tacazze. Beyond arose a straight line of mountains, more
steep and formidable than anything we have hitherto seen.
The slope at their feet was comparatively easy, but it increased
rapidly, and a wall of perpendicular rock of upwards
of a hundred feet high ran along the crests without the
slightest apparent break. The range looked like a mighty
natural barrier to our further progress into Abyssinia. However,
we knew that the exploring-party was upon the plateau
on the summit, having gone up by the native road. Our
order for the morrow was, that we were to march early
down to the Tacazze; that we were to encamp in the valley,
and that the troops were to set to work to make the road up
the ghaut practicable for our ascent upon the following day.
At eight o’clock in the evening, however, Captain Fawcett, of
the quartermaster’s department, rode into camp with a letter
from Colonel Phayre, evidently written in great consternation
of mind, and saying that Mr. Munzinger, who is with Gobayze’s
army, was missing, and had no doubt fallen into
Theodore’s hands—that Theodore himself, with his army, had
crossed the Bachelo river, and was advancing to attack us;
and urging that more troops should be sent on.
Of course there was great excitement in the camp at this
news. We were only thirty-five miles in a straight line from
Magdala, only twenty-three from the Bachelo, and as Theodore,
with his lightly-weighted natives would march nearly
straight, it was probable that we should be attacked on the
next night. In another hour an order was issued, which
showed that Sir Robert Napier, as well as ourselves, looked
upon this information as most important. The column was
only to halt for two or three hours at the Tacazze, while a
strong working-party made the road to some extent passable.
We were then to march up it, and to encamp upon the plateau
for the night.
It was evident that the Commander-in-chief felt the importance
of gaining the summit of the precipitous range opposite
before Theodore got to its top to prevent our so doing.
All the evening our talk was of Sniders and night-attacks,
and every pro and con was warmly discussed. At seven the
troops started, and in two hours and a half reached the
Tacazze. The Tacazze is here an insignificant stream, very
inferior to many of those we have previously crossed. Indeed,
it is more a succession of pools than a stream, and yet
as one crossed it, one could not forget that this was one of the
fountain-heads of the mighty Nile—that it was this little
streamlet, which, swollen by a thousand tributaries, rushes
every July into the main river, raising its level many feet,
and fertilising all Egypt with the rich Abyssinian soil it
carries down.
We went on half-a-mile farther across the valley to a point
where the commissariat had collected a dépôt of grain. Here
the mules were unloaded, fed and watered, and the troops had
breakfast, while strong fatigue-parties of the Beloochees,
Punjaubees, and 4th went up the hill to work upon the road,
under the direction of Captains Goodfellow and Lemessurier
of the Engineers. In three hours afterwards the signallers
on the top of the hill waved us word that the road was passable,
and we started for a climb of a clear two thousand
five hundred feet. It was hard work, but the road was
surprisingly free from difficulties or dangers until we reached
within two or three hundred feet of the top. Then there were
some exceedingly nasty bits, but upon the whole it was nothing
like what we had anticipated, and not to be compared
to many places we have before passed.
As we reached the top, Colonel Cameron called upon the
4th for three cheers, telling them that thrashing Theodore
would be nothing to the task of climbing that hill. The men
responded heartily but feebly; breath, not inclination, being
wanting. They then marched cheerily on across a plateau
level for another mile, in high spirits at the brush they were
looking forward to with Theodore. We soon found, as I had
imagined that we should do, that this anticipation was destined
for the present to be disappointed.
Munzinger was not missing, and never had been. He
had gone out for a ride, and his servant said, on being questioned,
that he did not know where he was. Theodore had
not crossed, and apparently had not the least idea of crossing
the Bachelo, but was still making every effort to get his guns
into Magdala.
We had no sooner reached the plateau than we became
conscious of a very great change in the temperature. The
wind blew bitterly cold, and not a single tree or even bush
of the smallest size was visible for the purposes of firewood.
There were numerous native cattle grazing on the hill-sides,
and the men at once set to work to pick up dried cow-dung,
which the natives habitually use for fuel; others busied themselves
in cutting peat; and the fires were soon lighted under
the cooking-pots. At six o’clock we had our usual heavy
rain, lasting for two hours; but fortunately before it set in
the tents were safely pitched. Only, therefore, the men on
duty got wet. The night was most piercingly cold. To say
that ice formed upon water gives no idea whatever of the
cold. A strong March east wind blew with a force which penetrated
to the very bones. I can safely say that never in my
life did I feel the cold so much as I have the two last nights.
The troops, especially the natives, of course feel it still more
severely. Rheumatic pains are beginning to be generally
felt, and a week of this work will fill the hospital-tents. The
cold will tell more severely when the stock of rum is exhausted.
Each regiment brought up some with their fifteen
days’ supplies, and this is not yet exhausted; but the commissariat
supply is finished, and we have had none now for
four days. The sugar has been also exhausted, and the tea
was running very short. I am happy to say, however, that a
fresh supply has arrived to-day; for cold water only in such
a climate as this would be the reverse of cheering.
It was arranged that we should halt here for two days, to
allow General Staveley to come up with the force under him.
Yesterday, early, news was brought in to the Chief that the
uncle of Wagshum Gobayze was coming in to pay a visit,
and Major Grant and Captain Moore went out to meet him.
The Adjutant-general carelessly omitted to notify the pickets of
the coming of the envoy; and accordingly, when the outlying
sentry of the 4th regiment saw a body of 700 or 800 horsemen
advancing, he naturally supposed that it was the enemy. He
very properly called out the picket, who loaded their Sniders,
and went out in skirmishing order to meet the enemy. In
another quarter of a minute they would have opened fire,
when an officer of the 4th came running up and stopped them.
Had he been a minute later the consequences would have
been most disastrous. Every shot would have told upon the
dense body of horsemen, and the twenty men, in the minute
or two which must have elapsed before the cavalry could have
reached them, would have done terrible execution; and even
had the cavalry charged, would, by falling into a small square,
not improbably have defended themselves against the whole
force. But the lives so sacrificed would have been only the
beginning of misfortunes. Nothing would ever have convinced
Gobayze that the affair was the result of a mistake,
and we should have had him for our foe as well as Theodore.
And with Wagshum’s army hovering around us, cutting off
our baggage-train and attacking small parties, our position
would be indeed a precarious one.
Wagshum Gobayze’s uncle arrived with his body of cavalry
at the other side of the little stream which borders our camp,
and here halted for a few minutes. The troops were in the
mean time paraded in front of their respective lines. Gobayze’s
troops, of whom there were 700 or 800 present, drew up in a
long line and dismounted, every man sitting down in front
of his horse. They were by far the most formidable body
we have seen since our arrival in this country. They were
really cavalry, and rode small but very strong and serviceable
horses. They were armed with shield and spear. I do
not of course mean that these troops could stand for a moment
against a charge of regular cavalry. It is probable that
a hundred of the Scinde Horse or of the 3d Cavalry would
scatter them like chaff; but for rough work, for dashing
down a mountain side and attacking a convoy, they would
be most formidable enemies. Their horses are all unshod,
are marvellously surefooted, and will go at a gallop over
places where an English horse could scarcely walk. We
were greatly surprised at the sight of this body of cavalry,
for heretofore we had not seen an animal which could even
by courtesy be called a horse since we landed in Abyssinia.
Leaving the main body of the force behind, the envoy
advanced, escorted by the 3d Cavalry, who had gone out to
meet him, and attended only by a dozen or so of his personal
followers. As he passed through the lines the regiments
saluted and the bands played. The envoy was an intelligent-looking
man, dressed in a crimson-silk dressing-gown,
brocaded with yellow; over this he wore the universal Abyssinian
white-cloth wrapping, and had a white turban upon
his head. By his side rode the officers who had gone out
to meet him and Mr. Munzinger. The envoy could not be
received in a public durbar, as the previous ambassadors have
been, for Sir Robert Napier has now only a small tent of
some eight to ten feet square. I am unable to say, therefore,
what took place at the interview, except that the envoy
expressed very considerable dread of Theodore, who, he said,
had 10,000 men, and would unquestionably fight us at Magdala.
At the conclusion of the interview the envoy was presented
with a horse and a double-barrelled gun. While the
interview was going on we amused ourselves by inspecting
the envoy’s shield, which was carried by an attendant, and
was a very magnificent affair indeed. The shield itself was
of course of rhinoceros hide, and upon it was a piece of lion’s
skin, with numerous raised bosses of gilt-filigree work, which
appeared to me to be of Indian workmanship. It was one
of the ten royal shields, all precisely similar, which exist in
Abyssinia. The attendants were mostly fine, well-built fellows,
as were the general body of cavalry, and of superior
physique to any men we had hitherto seen. I should
mention that all the horses have a strap going from the forehead
down to the nose, upon which are two or more round plates
of metal with a sharp spike in them, exactly resembling, but
smaller, those worn upon the foreheads of the horses of the
knights of old. The 4th, the Scinde Horse, and a body of
3d Native Cavalry, were drawn up in front of the tent, and
saluted as the envoy left. There is no doubt that Theodore
will be no despicable foe, and the further we go the more
evident this becomes. Gobayze’s army is said to be 20,000
strong; and if, as I understand, those we saw to-day were a
fair sample of them, they would be certainly formidable antagonists.
And yet Gobayze has been watching Theodore for
months, and did not dare to attack him, even when encumbered
by his artillery and baggage. Gobayze indeed confesses
that his army would have no chance with that of
Theodore. The army of the latter, then, when garrisoning
a position of such immense natural strength as that of Magdala,
will be formidable even to an army of 4000 British
troops. There can be no doubt that we shall capture the
place; but the British public must not be surprised if we do
not do it directly we arrive.
Sir Charles Staveley arrived to-day with his force, which
slept last night at a halting-place at the foot of the ghaut.
I am glad to say that the general has so far recovered from
his attack of rheumatism as to be able to sit on his horse for
a portion of the journey. He brought with him the whole of
the 33d, six companies of the Punjaub Pioneers, Twiss’s steel
battery, the 3d Native Cavalry, and the Naval Rocket Brigade.
The 45th regiment, the 3d Dragoon Guards, and the
second wing of the Beloochees are all coming up by forced
marches, and, as well as the elephants with G 14 Battery,
will arrive here in three days. This afternoon the Naval
Brigade went out to exhibit rocket practice. There was not
room in the valley for the practice, and they therefore went
up on to a hill, and fired at another hill about 2000 yards
distant. There are twelve mules, each with a tube, and there
is a supply of ninety rockets to each tube: there are four
men to each tube, beside the man who leads the mule. At
the word unload!
the tubes, which are about three feet in
length, are quickly taken off the mules and arranged in line.
Each tube is provided with a sort of stand, with a marked
elevator, by which it can be adjusted to any required angle.
The order at first was to fire at ten degrees of elevation;
and upon the word fire!
being given, one after another of
the rockets (which have no stick) rushed from the tube, and
buzzed through the air to the top of the opposite hill. Three
rockets were fired to this elevation, and then three from an
elevation of five degrees. A very strong wind was blowing,
and it was difficult therefore to form any opinion of the accuracy
of aim attainable. The bolts as they shot through the
air certainly did not appear to swerve in the slightest from
their original line; and there is no doubt that this novel
instrument of war will strike terror into the hearts of the
garrison of Magdala.
Scindee, April 5th.
When I wrote from Santarai we were twenty-five miles
in a direct line from Magdala. After marching thirty-five
miles we are at exactly the same distance. In fact, we have
marched along the base of a triangle, of which Magdala
forms the apex. We have been obliged to do this to arrive
at the one practicable point for crossing the tremendous
ravine of the Djedda. For the whole of this distance we have
marched along a nearly level plateau ten thousand feet above
the sea. The sun by day has been exceedingly hot, the wind
at night piercingly cold, and we have had heavy thunderstorms
of an afternoon. The extremes of temperature are
very great, and it is indeed surprising that the troops preserve
their health as they do. I have seen the thermometer
register 145° at eleven o’clock, and go down to 19° at night.
The plateau land has been bare and monotonous in the extreme,
not a single shrub, however small, breaks the view,
and the only variety whatever has been, that whereas in most
places the soil is a black friable loam, at others it is so
covered with stones of all sizes that the soil itself is scarcely
visible, and travelling is difficult and painful in the extreme.
Our first march was twelve miles in length to Gazoo, which
is the name of a stream running for nearly the whole distance
parallel to our line of march. At Gazoo, the very serious
news reached us that the arrangements for the native transport
had broken down, and that no supplies were on their
way up. This was what I had, when we started from Lât
for our rush forward, foreseen was exceedingly likely to
happen, and our position at once became a very precarious
one. We had only six days’ provision remaining. Magdala
was five days’ march distant. It was now certain that no
fresh supplies could possibly arrive until long after those we
have with us are exhausted. It is hardly probable that we
shall find any provisions upon our way, for to-morrow we
shall come upon Theodore’s track, and it is said that he has
burnt and plundered the whole country in the neighbourhood
of his line of route. It is very doubtful whether we shall
obtain enough food for our animals; even now, when in a cultivated
country which has not been ravaged, forage is very
scarce, and the animals are upon the very shortest allowance
which will keep life together. The prospect, therefore, was
gloomy indeed, and there was a rumour that the Chief had
made up his mind to halt, and to send the whole of the animals
back to bring up provisions. This idea, however, if it
was ever entertained, was abandoned; those energetic officers,
Major Grant and Captain Moore, were sent back to endeavour
to arrange the hitch in the native carriage; the ration of
biscuit was reduced from a pound to half-a-pound per diem,
and the army moved on. Fortunately news came up that the
natives were bringing in a thousand pounds of flour a-day to
the commissariat station which had been established at the
Tacazze, and with these and our half-rations we might hold
on for some time.
The next day’s march was sixteen miles, to Ad Gazoo,
through a country precisely similar in character to that
passed on the preceding day, except that it was more cultivated.
The villages, indeed, were everywhere scattered, and
although small were snug and comfortable-looking, the little
clusters of eight or ten huts, with their high conical thatched
roofs, looking very like snug English homesteads with their
rickyards. Here, as indeed through the whole of the latter
part of our journey, the people came out to gaze on the
passing army of white strangers. Picturesque groups they
formed as they squatted by the wayside. In the centre
would probably be the priest, and next to him the patriarch
and the chief of the village. Round them would sit the other
men, and behind these the women and girls would stand, the
latter chattering and laughing among themselves, or to the
younger men, who stood beside them. Here, too, would be
the mothers, some with their little fat babies in their arms,
some with two or three children hanging round them, and
peeping bashfully out at the strange white men. Some of the
women would generally have brought goats, or a pot of honey,
or a jar of milk or ghee, or a bag of grain to sell, but they soon
forgot to offer them in their surprise at the strange attires and
beautiful horses of the strangers.
From Ad Gazoo we yesterday moved our camp to this
place, a distance of only two miles, Sir Charles Staveley
bringing up his division to the camp we had left, so that the
whole force is now well together in case of an attack. An
affair took place yesterday evening, the consequences of which
might have been very serious. Ashasta, Gobayze’s uncle, who
visited us at Santarai, again came into camp with a couple of
hundred followers. Care had been taken this time to prevent
the possibility of his being fired into by the pickets, and
when his visit was over he was escorted by an officer beyond
the lines. After he had left us, he went to a village not far
distant, where he billeted half of his men. With the remainder
he started for another village; but upon his way he
passed close to an outlying picket of General Staveley’s brigade,
consisting of a corporal and four men of the 3d Native
Infantry. These men of course knew nothing of his having
come from our camp, and shouted to the party to keep their
distance. The natives, who, as I have before said, have a
strong impression that we cannot fight, replied by derisive
cries and by brandishing their lances. The corporal, naturally
supposing that it was a party of Theodore’s cavalry,
ordered one of his men to fire, which was answered by a
couple of shots on the part of the natives. The corporal then
gave the word to the others to fire, and then to charge, and
the little party, sword in hand, went gallantly at the numerous
party of their supposed enemy. Ashasta, seeing that it
was a mistake, ordered his men to retreat, which they did,
pursued by the picket, who came up with some of the hindmost
of the party. They pursued for some distance, and
then halted. Two of the natives were killed in the affair, one
with a bullet, one by a sword-thrust, and two others were
wounded. At the sound of the firing Staveley’s brigade was
called out under arms, and considerable excitement prevailed
for some time. Late in the evening, when the matter was
understood, M. Munzinger went out to explain to Ashasta
how it had happened; and as the men killed were not chiefs,
and human life does not go for much in Abyssinia, our
apologies were accepted, and Ashasta came into camp again
to-day. Thus what might have been a very serious business
is happily arranged. The men upon picket are in no
way to blame; in fact, they behaved with great gallantry,
and must have opened the eyes of the natives to the fact that
we can fight when we like. Technically, they were somewhat
to blame in charging, as the rule is that a picket should never
advance, but should fire and hold its ground when possible, or
retire upon its supports if threatened by an overwhelming force.
The Naval Rocket Brigade now form a portion of this
camp. They are an admirable body of men, and do great
credit to Captain Fellowes, their commanding officer. They
support the fatigues and hardships with the good-temper peculiar
to naval men. They march, contrary to what might
have been expected, even better than the soldiers, and never
fall out, even on the most fatiguing journeys. They are a
great amusement to the troops, and their admonitions to
their mules, which they persist in treating as ships, are irresistibly
comic. I saw a sailor the other day who was leading
a mule, while a comrade walked behind it. A stoppage occurred,
but he went right on into the midst of a number of soldiers.
Hallo, Jack!
they said good-humouredly, where are
you coming?
Coming?
Jack said, I ain’t coming anywhere. I
am only towing the craft; it’s the chap behind does the
steering.
It is always so with them. The head-rope is always
either the tow-rope
or the painter.
They starboard or
port their helm, tack through a crowd,
or wear the ship
round
in a most amusing way. They have of course shore-titles
for the occasion, but do not always answer to them.
The other day I heard an officer call out, Sergeant-major!
No answer.
Sergeant-major!
This time louder.
Still no reply.
A third and still louder hail produced no response.
Boatswain, where the devil are you?
Ay, ay, sir!
was the instant answer from the man,
who was standing close by, but who had quite forgotten his
new rank of sergeant-major.
Of an evening, if we have a halt, Jack sometimes dances.
The band of the Punjaubees—between whom and the sailors
there is a great friendship, although of course they do not
understand a word of each other’s language—comes over to
the sailors’ camp, and plays dance-music; and half-a-dozen
couples of sailors stand up and execute quadrilles, waltzes,
and polkas.
The scene is a very amusing one. The Punjaubees do
not stand, but sit in a circle, and play away with the greatest
gravity; very well they play too, for they are beyond all
comparison the best band out here. The sailors dance without
the least idea that there is anything comic in the business;
while round stand a crowd of amused soldiers and of
astonished natives of the country, to whom the whole performance
is a profound mystery.
The Punjaub Pioneers still maintain the high opinion
they have earned by their hard work. They are indeed a
splendid regiment, and reflect the greatest credit upon Major
Chamberlain, their popular commanding-officer. Major
Chamberlain’s case is a particularly hard one. He was promoted
to the rank of major during the mutinies, and was
subsequently, for his great services, recommended no less
than three times for his colonelcy. The Indian Government,
however, refused, on account of his recent promotion. Eleven
years have since elapsed, and that objection must long ere
this be done away with; and yet Major Chamberlain is only
Major Chamberlain still. It is to be hoped that at the end of
this campaign a tardy recognition will be made of his services.
It was Major Chamberlain and his Punjaubees who found
water at a short distance from Zulla. He asserted, and very
rightly, that as there was water at Koomaylo, it must find
its way down to the sea somehow, and so he set his men to
work to dig. Down he went steadily, amidst the laughter
and chaff of his friends in the Engineers. Still he persevered,
and at nearly sixty feet from the surface he struck water.
An abundant supply is now obtainable from this well, and
by this service alone he has amply earned his promotion.
The difficulties of writing since we left Lât have been
greater than ever, and the manual operation of inditing an
epistle is a most serious business. Of course there is nothing
resembling a chair or a table,—not even a box. The only
way to write is lying upon the ground, and putting one’s
paper upon one’s pillow. Now my pillow is not a comfortable
one for sleeping upon, much less for writing. It is
composed of a revolver, a box of cartridges, a telescope, a
bag of dollars, a packet of candles, a powder-flask, a bag of
bullets, a comb, a pair of stockings, and a flannel-shirt,—in
fact, all my worldly belongings. A most useful kit, no
doubt, but uncomfortable as a pillow, inconvenient as a
writing-table. However, one gets accustomed to anything;
and if this campaign lasts another month or two, we shall
not improbably have learnt to dispense with much more important
articles than tables and chairs; for we have only the
clothes we stand in, and these are already giving unmistakable
signs of approaching dissolution.
Dalanta, April 5th.
We are now getting to names which are somewhat familiar
to us. The river Djedda, which the troops crossed
yesterday, and the plain of Dalanta, where we are encamped
to-day, were both mentioned frequently in the letters from
the captives. The river Djedda was the place where Theodore
was detained so long making a practicable road for his
guns, and where he was represented as encouraging his men
at their task by working with his own hands. Dalanta was
the province or tract which was spoken of as in rebellion
against him for a considerable time previously, but which
submitted as soon as he had crossed the Djedda.
After I had sent off my letter of the 3d, intelligence
arrived that Theodore had broken up his camp before Magdala,
and was moving to attack us. I need hardly say that
the news was untrue. The Chief, however, was bound to act
upon it, and consequently we were ordered to march at seven;
and instead of halting, as previously intended, upon the edge
of the ravine of the Djedda, we were to cross and encamp on
the other side, so as to avoid the possibility of having to take
such a strong position. Colonel Milward, who had marched
the evening before with the Punjaubees, and two companies of
the 4th, was ordered to cross early, and General Staveley was
to bring up his force to the edge of the ravine. We started
punctually at the time ordered, and marched across a precisely
similar country to that we had traversed for the few
previous days. Some miles before we reached the edge of
the Djedda the whole aspect was changed. The yellow stubble
and hay, which had before stretched away upon both
sides, was all burnt, and the ground was covered only with
a black ash. The flocks and herds which had dotted the
country were gone, and scarcely a human being was to be
seen over the black expanse. The snug homesteads and villages
had disappeared, and in their places were bare walls
and heaps of stones. I rode up to one of these. On the floor
lay the half-charred thatch of the roof; among it were portions
of broken pots and baking effects. Here was a long
round stone, which was used as a rolling-pin to make the
flat bread; there was a large vessel of baked earth and cow-dung
which had once held flour or milk. A rat scuttled
away as I looked in. There was not a living soul in what
had once been a large village. This was indeed the desolation
of war. Presently we saw rising, apparently a few feet
above the plain, at a distance of five or six miles, a long
perpendicular wall of rock. This, we knew, was the upper
edge of the opposite side of the Djedda. The ground then
sank a little in front of us, and, riding along the slight depression,
we suddenly turned a corner, and below us lay the
wonderful gorge of the Djedda. Its width from edge to edge
was four or five miles, its depth to the stream 3800 feet. It
was a wonderful ravine. As far as eye could see either way,
the upper part upon sides appeared like two perpendicular
walls of perhaps a third of its total depth. Then, on either
side, was a plain or shoulder of from a mile to a mile and a
half in width, with a gradual slope towards the stream. The
lower portion was again extremely steep, but still with a
gradual descent, and not mere walls of rock like the upper
edges. It was easy to imagine the whole process of the
formation of this gorge. Originally it must have been an
arm of the sea; a gulf of five miles across, and with perpendicular
cliffs upon either side, and its depth the level of the
broad shoulders. Then the land rose, and a great river ran
through the centre of what was now a noble valley, gradually
eating its way down until its bed attained its present enormous
depth. It was this ravine which had been the cause of the
immense detour we have had to make. Forty miles back, at
Santarai, we were said to be as close to Magdala as we were
when we stood prepared to descend into the Djedda. But
the perpendicular walls barred our progress, and we have
marched along nearly parallel to its course until we have
reached the one spot where a break in its iron walls allow
of our descent. By this route Theodore marched, and when
we saw the road he had made for us, we felt for the first time
since our arrival really grateful to the Abyssinian tyrant.
It is really a wonderful road, almost as good as could
have been made by our own engineers; the only difference
being that they would have thrown a layer of earth over
the loose stones to bind them together, and to afford a firm
and level surface. The road is really constructed with great
engineering skill. Blasting-tools have been freely used
wherever the rock required it. Every wind and turn, every
shoulder and slope, has been taken advantage of in order
to make zigzags, and render the descent more gradual. It
is true that in places it is fearfully steep—an incline of one
and a quarter to one—which, to convey the idea more popularly,
is about the slope of the bank of a railway-cutting.
The leaving the road in its present state, with loose stones,
may have been done with an object, for upon a solid road
of this angle it would have been next to impossible to have
kept heavy cannon on wheels from running down, whereas
upon a very loose and heavy road the matter was comparatively
easy. The length of the descent is four miles and
a half, that of the ascent three miles and a half. Two
miles and a half of the former, and a mile and a half
of the latter, are across and partially along the shoulders,
where the slope was very slight. In consequence, it may
be said that actually three thousand feet of depth were
on either side attained in two miles, which would give an
average incline of one in three. The road is from twenty
to thirty feet in width; generally it is made through basalt,
which, in cooling, had crystallised, so that its surface resembles
a mosaic pavement, and this readily breaks up.
Parts, however, are cut through a hard stone, and portions
through a conglomerate, which must have tried to the utmost
the tools and patience of Theodore’s army. How he achieved
the task with the means at his disposal I am at a loss to
understand; and the road has certainly raised Theodore very
many degrees in the estimation of our men. Upon every
level space in the camping-ground of his army, there are
their fireplaces, and innumerable little bowers of five feet
high and little more in diameter, in which his troops curled
themselves up when their day’s work was over. It was a
long and very weary descent. Going down a steep place
is comparatively easy when one carries no load; but when
one has over fifty pounds upon the back it is extremely
trying. At last we reached the bottom, a stony waste of
a quarter of a mile wide, with a few large trees growing
upon what in the rainy season are, no doubt, islands. The
bed of the stream is perfectly dry, except that here and
there, at intervals of a quarter of a mile or so, were pools
of water, very soft and unpleasant to the taste, and full of
tadpoles. The troops when they arrived here were a good
deal done up, having already marched thirteen miles, and
it was hoped that the Chief would order a halt for the night.
He, however, considered it essential that the plateau should
be gained that evening, and Milward’s corps, whose rearguard
left the river as we descended to it, supported. The
troops were ordered to halt and rest until four o’clock, and
to have their dinners, and the mules were to be unloaded,
fed, and watered.
It was three o’clock before the baggage began to arrive
in the valley, and it was evident that it would not be all
down until dark, and that much of it could not reach the
plateau above that night. Three of us, therefore, resolved
upon sleeping where we were, and upon going on at daybreak.
We accordingly pitched our tents under a tree, saw
our horses picketed and fed, and dinner in course of preparation,
and then went out for a walk to explore the valley.
The temperature was very many degrees warmer than upon
the plateau above, and the flora was more than proportionately
luxuriant. Here I find, among hundreds of other
plants of whose names and properties I am unfortunately
ignorant, the wild verbena and heliotrope, also the cucumber.
Unfortunately the cucumbers had only just begun to form,
and were scarcely as large as gherkins, or we might have
had an unexpected addition to our fare. I also found quantities
of the rare palm-fern growing in crevices of the rocks.
It was altogether a splendid field for a botanist, and I think
it a great pity that a learned botanist did not accompany the
expedition instead of a geographer, who, although a most
distinguished savant, can but tell the world nearly the same
particulars of the narrow strip of country through which we
are travelling as must occur to any ordinary observer. Had
this gentleman merely taken advantage of the protection
given by our presence in the country to travel generally
through it, he might have no doubt added largely to our
store of information; but keeping to the line of route followed
by the army, he can, with the exception of ascertaining
the precise heights over which we travel, tell us really next
to nothing. I believe, however, that this staying with the
army is in no degree the fault of the gentleman in question,
but of the military authorities, who here appear to have the
idea that a civilian is a sort of grown-up baby, who must be
kept strictly under their own eyes, or else that he will infallibly
get into mischief, and either come to harm himself, or
else be the cause of that dreadful and mysterious thing—complications.
Had King Kassa, at the time he visited us,
been applied to by the Commander-in-chief, he would, no
doubt, have afforded every facility to the geographer and
archæologist to have wandered as they pleased among his
dominions, and the latter especially might have visited the
interesting cities of Adowa and Axum, and made discoveries
of an important and interesting nature, instead of wasting
his time on the summit of the bleak Abyssinian mountains.
We enjoyed our little picnic amazingly. It was such a
relief to get for once out of the routine of camp, with its
sentries, and its countersigns, and bugle-calls, and mules,
and to lie outside our tent and enjoy the warm evening air,
which we had not been able to do since we left Zulla, where
there was only sand to lie on. At eight o’clock, however,
the rain came on and drove us in, with the pleasant knowledge
that we had chosen well in stopping, for the last of the
baggage was not down the hill until past six; and although
they at once started upon their weary climb, it was
impossible that they could reach the camp before morning.
Our camp was presently increased in size by a dozen commissariat
coolies, who were driving several hundred sheep and
some oxen, and who did not get to the river until nearly
eight o’clock. Jackals and hyænas were very numerous, so
we piled together a good fire to keep them off our horses, and
then lay down to sleep with our rifles and revolvers within
reach, for it was of course just possible, although not—as
some of the members of the staff to whom we had mentioned
our intention to stay considered likely—probable, that some
of Theodore’s cavalry might come along down the valley upon
the look-out for stragglers. We came up at daybreak next
morning, and after a cup of sugarless tea, started for camp.
It was a very severe climb, and at the shoulder we came up
to many of the mules which had been unable to get up the
night before. The road which Theodore has cut enables us to
see very clearly the formation of the valley, and I have not
the least question that coal would be found there. I do not
mention this as a commercial, but as a scientific, fact; for,
commercially, coal here would be of no more value than
stones. But of the fact itself I have no question. The character
of the formation, the stone, the bands of fireclay, and
of black friable shale, are very distinct, and there is in my
mind no doubt whatever of the existence of coal. On the
way we passed several dead mules and horses, and there can
be no question that the journey was a most cruel one. This
extreme fatigue may not cripple a man at the time, he may
be ready for duty the next morning; but it must tell, and tell
severely upon his constitution, and there are not a few men
here who will feel the effects of Mahkan, Dildee, and Dalanta,
to the end of their lives. The camp is situated upon a dead-level
about a mile from the top of the ascent. I find upon
inquiry that the troops in general got in at nine o’clock—of
course wet through—but that very many of them, and a
great deal of baggage, did not come in until this morning.
There were rumours of an attack, Rassam having sent in a
letter warning the Chief to be particularly on his guard
against night attacks. The men, therefore, went to sleep in
their boots, with their rifles by their sides. No attack took
place. The same precaution is used to-night. We find, as I
expected, that very little is brought in by the natives. The
horses and mules to-day only get two pounds of grain each.
We are still upon half-rations of flour, which, by this means,
and with what is bought at Tacazze and upon the way will, I
hope, enable us to hold on until supplies arrive. Nothing
positive has yet been heard of the native carriage. Sir
Robert Napier has been out all day making a long reconnoissance.
From one point which he attained the tents of Theodore’s
army upon the plain in front of Magdala were clearly
visible. The party did not return until dark, and I have
heard no particulars. Theodore is known, however, to be
still there, and his efforts are directed to fortifying the hill
which defends Magdala. He has several guns in position on
the summit, and I apprehend that we shall have to capture it
before we assault Magdala. It is not known yet whether we
advance to-morrow or not, but it is believed that we shall
start late, and make a short march, and that Sir Charles
Staveley, who is encamped to-night at the bottom of the
Djedda ravine, will come up to our present camp. It is a
tremendously wet night.
Dalanta, April 7th.
We have had many surprises since we arrived in the
country, but none greater, and certainly none more satisfactory,
than that which we have here experienced. The
letters from the captives had informed us that Theodore had
burnt everything upon the plain of Dalanta; and we had in
consequence imagined that we should be able to obtain nothing
whatever either for ourselves or animals, and that the
prospect of the latter especially was gloomy in the extreme,
for we had not any corn whatever remaining for them. Captain
Speedy, however, rode out to see the chief of Dalanta,
with whom he had an acquaintance when residing in the
country. He returned in the afternoon with the tidings that
the chief had promised at least 100,000 lbs. of grain in two
days. It is evident that he is a man of his word, for we have
had a market to-day which has surpassed anything we have
seen in the country except at Antalo. There is a crowd of
people with grain, bread, fowls, &c. &c., and the four or five
commissariat Parsees cannot pay out the dollars for the bucket-loads
of grain half as fast as the natives bring them in. It
is indeed quite a scramble among these latter.
This unexpected influx of grain, &c., may be said to be
the turning-point which secures the success of our expedition.
Had we found no grain here we must have lost all the transport-animals,
as these have already been on very short commons
for some days. The supplies for the men too were
running extremely short, and if Magdala holds out for a week
our position would have been most unpleasant; now we are
safe. We have abundant grain for the animals for another
week, and we are told that supplies will continue to come in
in any quantities. Very large quantities of bread too have
been purchased, and both officers and men have laid in a
stock of fowls, eggs, &c. All anxiety is at an end. We
have fairly overcome now all the difficulties of the country,
and of supplies. Theodore and his men are, in comparison,
contemptible foes.
Staveley’s brigade came up yesterday, and are encamped
at a spot about two miles beyond us. Now that supplies are
coming in in abundance, and a day is no longer of vital consequence,
we shall, I believe, wait for another day or two to
allow the wing of the 45th, the second wing of the Beloochees,
and the 3d Dragoon Guards, to come up.
Yesterday almost every officer in camp went to the edge
of the ravine to have a look at Magdala. It is a ride of a
little over two miles, and the ravine goes down in an almost
unbroken precipice of 500 or 600 feet from the upper edge.
The view is one of the finest, if not the very finest, we have
had in Abyssinia. It is grand in the extreme. At our feet
was the perpendicular precipice, then a short shoulder, and
then another sharp fall down to the Bachelo, which is 3900
feet below us. This side of the ravine is very similar, but
steeper, to that of the Djedda. Upon the other side, however,
the character is altogether different. In place of a
corresponding ascent, as at the Djedda, the ground rises in a
succession of billows one behind another, higher and higher,
to the foot of some very lofty mountains, which form the
background forty miles away. Such an extraordinary sea
of hills I never saw. It was most magnificent, and stretched
away east and west as far as the eye could reach. Above all
this Magdala rose like a great ship out of the surrounding
billows. There was no mistaking it, with its precipitous
sides, its frowning aspect, and the cluster of tents clearly
discernible upon its summit. As the crow flies it was about
eight miles distant.
I will endeavour to give as clear a description of it as
possible, in order that our future operations may be readily
understood. From the bed of the Bachelo the ground rises
in a mass of rounded hills, with somewhat flat tops; down
through these, deep ravines convey the streams from the
distant hills into the Bachelo. One of these ravines comes
down nearly direct from Magdala, and it is up this that the
road goes, until it gets within about two miles of Magdala,
when it leaves the ravine and goes up on to the flat hill-tops
from the midst of which Magdala rises. Magdala, from here,
appears like a three-topped mountain with almost perpendicular
sides. Two of the summits, which together resemble
a saddle with high flat peaks, face this way. The hill to
the right is Fahla; that on the left, which is some hundred
feet higher, is Salamgi. The road winds up the face of Fahla
to the saddle between the two, and it is evident that Fahla
will be the first position to be attacked. There are apparently
very few huts upon Fahla. The road, we hear, after reaching
the top of the saddle, turns to the left, and crosses over
Salamgi. Salamgi is tremendously strong; it is a series of
natural scarps, of great height; and upon the terrace formed
by these scarps a great portion of Theodore’s force is encamped.
Salamgi, if well defended, even by savages, will
be a most formidable position to assault. The third top of
this singular fortress is Magdala itself. This, like Fahla,
has a flat top, which is completely covered with large huts.
We see only the top of Magdala, over the saddle between
Salamgi and Fahla. It is apparently lower than Salamgi,
but higher than Fahla. It is, we hear, connected with
Salamgi by a flat shoulder. It appears to be about a mile
distant from the summit of this mountain, and when, therefore,
we have taken Salamgi, our light guns will not be of
much utility in bombarding Magdala at so great a distance.
I have now given an idea of the scene in which the great
drama, which will commence to-morrow or next day, will be
played. My next letter will, at any rate, give you the opening
scene, and possibly even the entire drama.
Before Magdala, April 11th.
Although it was evident when I last wrote to you that
the last act of our long drama was approaching, I certainly
did not imagine that my next letter would convey the tidings
that all was over—that the captives were free, their prison
captured, their oppressor punished, and general triumph
amidst a blaze of blue fire. But so it is; for although
Magdala has not yet fallen, it will undoubtedly do so before
the post closes, and a more gratifying termination to our
expedition than has eventuated could not have been desired
by the most sanguine. I had better continue my letter in a
narrative form from the date when I last wrote—for if I
describe the final events first it would deprive the rest of the
matter of all interest.
I wrote last on the evening of the 7th from Dalanta.
The following day brought in largely-increased supplies,
and the market was completely thronged with the country
people. In the three days we were there we purchased over
100,000 lbs. of grain, besides quantities of bread, &c. &c.,
and nowhere, even at Antalo, did supplies flow in with
such rapidity as at this place, where we expected to find a
desert.
On the afternoon of the 8th the wing of the 45th marched
into camp, having done the distance from Scindee. The authorities
had thoughtfully sent down mules to the Djedda
river to carry up their coats and blankets, and the men
consequently arrived comparatively fresh. The sailors of
the Naval Brigade turned out as they came into camp, and
saluted them with three hearty cheers. The 45th are a
remarkably fine body of men.
Thus reinforced Sir Robert Napier determined to move
forward and to encamp before Magdala, even if he decided
upon delaying the assault until the other wing of the Beloochees
and the 3d Dragoon Guards joined us. The order
was accordingly issued for a march the next day to the edge
of the Bachelo ravine, to which the second brigade, which
were now two miles ahead of us, were also to proceed. We
started at ten o’clock, and were soon upon our camping-ground,
which was only five miles distant. Here the second
brigade joined us, and together we formed a larger camp
than any we have had since our landing at Zulla. From
the front of the camp we had an excellent view of Magdala,
which stood up, with Salamgi and Fahla, a thousand feet
above the surrounding hills. We could now see that the
ridge connecting Salamgi with Fahla was longer than it had
appeared from our previous point of view, the distance from
one end to the other of the saddle being apparently over
half a mile.
The first brigade was ordered to advance at daybreak.
The Commander-in-chief and his head-quarters were to move
with the second brigade at ten o’clock, so as to allow the
baggage of the first brigade to get first to the bottom of
the ravine. The first brigade were to march to within two
or three miles of Magdala. The second were to encamp
upon the river, and to march on early the next morning.
There was then not the slightest intention on the part of
Sir Robert Napier that any attack should take place, and
indeed, as I have before said, it was considered very probable
that we should await the arrival of the troops hurrying
up from behind before any assault was made upon Magdala.
However, I determined to go on early, as it was quite possible
that something would take place, and I had afterwards
good reason to congratulate myself upon having so done, as
several others who had not started until ten o’clock lost the
exciting scene at the end of the day.
Sir Charles Staveley was in command of the advance,
and Colonel Phayre, as quartermaster-general of the army,
went on in front with six companies of the Bombay and
Madras Sappers to prepare the road, should it be necessary.
At half-past five the next morning (Good Friday) we
were in motion, and at once entered upon the steep descent
to the Bachelo. It is a ravine of about the same depth as
the Djedda, namely, 3800 feet, and the road, as made by
Theodore, is a wonderfully good one. It is shorter, but at
the same time scarcely so precipitous as parts of that down to
the Djedda, and can hardly have presented quite so many
difficulties, that is, there were fewer places where the basalt
had to be cut through with blasting-tools. Still, it was a
fatiguing descent to the Bachelo, and the sun, when it rose,
came down with tremendous power. The men had had but
a scanty supply of water the night before, and hardly any
before starting; they therefore looked forward eagerly for
the welcome stream at the bottom. It turned out, however,
a disappointment, for although there was an abundance of
water, the river being eighty yards wide, and nearly waist-deep,
the water was of a consistency and colour which would
have rendered it perfectly undrinkable except to men suffering
from great thirst. I do not think I ever saw such muddy
water in a stream. It was the colour of coffee with milk in
it, and perfectly opaque with mud. It looked like nothing
so much as the water in a dirty puddle in a London street,
just as it has been churned up by the wheels of a passing
omnibus. However, there was no help for it, and, dirty as
it was, everyone had a drink, and the soldiers filled their
canteens, for it was probable that no more water would be
obtainable during the day.
From the Bachelo a broad ravine with a flat bottom ran
nearly straight to Salamgi, and along this Theodore’s road
was made. It was believed, however, that guns had been laid
to command this road, and it was not improbable that Theodore
might make a sudden attack. It was therefore determined
that the mountain guns, rocket trains, and baggage
should proceed by this road, preceded by the six hundred
Sappers and Miners; and that the infantry should at once
climb the hills to its right, and should march along them, so
as to clear them of any possible enemy. To cross the river
the men had to wade, the first time that they have had to do so
since they landed. Some wisely took off their trousers, others
thinking vainly that the water would not reach above their
knees, merely rolled their trousers up, and, of course, got
thoroughly wet. Most of them took off shoes and stockings,
but many stopped in the middle and put their boots on again,
for the stones were so extremely sharp that wet shoes were
preferable to cut feet. At last the troops were across, and
after a short halt moved forward, the Sappers having gone on
an hour previously with Colonel Phayre. After proceeding
up the valley we prepared to climb the hill. On crossing it
the 4th formed the advance, the men loading before they
started, as it was impossible that we could tell when we
might be attacked. Sir Charles Staveley, with General
Schneider, the able and popular officer commanding the first
brigade, with their staffs followed; and after them came the
4th—the little party of Engineers under Major Pritchard, the
Beloochees, the Punjaubees, and two companies of the 10th
Native Infantry; also a squadron of the 3d Native Cavalry,
the only cavalry we had with us. We have had some stiff
climbing since we entered Abyssinia, but this altogether surpassed
any of our previous experience. In fact, when we got
near the summit of the first range, we came to a spot which
was almost impassable even for infantry, and quite so for the
horses of the staff. Two or three officers endeavoured to drag
their horses up, but the animals, although pretty well accustomed
by this time to stiff places, were quite unable to get
up, and one or two tumbled backwards and were nearly
killed. The infantry therefore clambered up to the top; but
we had to wait where we were for half-an-hour, until the Punjaub
Pioneers cleared a sort of track up which we were able
to scramble. When on the first level we had a halt for half-an-hour,
for the troops were all very much exhausted by their
climb, under one of the hottest suns I ever felt. They were
now, too, beginning to suffer much from thirst, and the
muddy water in the skins was drunk most eagerly. It tasted
muddy, but was not otherwise bad; but we had to shut our
eyes to drink it. While we were waiting here a messenger
arrived from Colonel Phayre, saying that he held the head of
the valley with the Sappers and Miners, and that the road was
quite practicable. Sir Charles Staveley at once sent off an
aide-de-camp to Sir Robert Napier, saying that the baggage
and guns, which were waiting at the river for the receipt of
this intelligence, might move forward in safety. We then
marched four miles farther up a succession of rises to the
place where it was hoped from the native accounts that we
should find water; but there was only one small pool of very
dirty water, with which, however, three or four skins were
filled. The disappointment of the men, who were now suffering
severely, was very great, but there was no help for it.
Here, however, we met with a surprise, which to the commanding-officers
quite dispelled any thought of thirst or discomfort;
for here, to the astonishment and dismay of Sir
Charles Staveley, he found Colonel Phayre and the 800
Sappers and Miners, who were supposed to be holding the
head of the valley below us. This was now, we knew, crowded
with our artillery, ammunition-baggage and supplies. This
valley, as I before stated, ran straight to Magdala, and of
course was visible for its whole length to the garrison of that
fortress.
The whole of the baggage was therefore open to an attack
from Magdala, and we upon the hill-top were powerless to
give them the slightest assistance. Had Theodore made an
attack at this period, it is not too much to say that the whole
of our guns, ammunition, and stores must have fallen into
his hands, for their whole guard was only eighty or a hundred
men of the 4th scattered over a long line. What Colonel
Phayre meant, or how he accounted for this extraordinary
conduct, I know not; but a more stupendous blunder never
was made, and had we had the most contemptible European
force to deal with instead of savages, we must have sustained
a crushing disaster.
General Staveley at once sent off an officer to acquaint
Sir Robert Napier with the state of affairs, and then ordered
the troops to advance at once.
Another couple of miles brought us to our camping-ground,
which lay a little behind the crest of a hill, and was
not visible from Magdala. Here the tired troops threw
themselves down, while the General advanced with his staff
to the edge of the rising ground. As the scene before it was
destined, although we were at the time ignorant of it, to
become our battle-field, I will endeavour to give as accurate
a description of it as possible, in order that the fight may be
better understood.
We stood on the edge of a sort of plateau. At our feet
was a small ravine or valley, dividing us from another plateau,
which extended to the foot of Fahla and Salamgi. This
plateau was a hundred feet or so below the spot upon which
we stood, and would have been completely commanded by
our guns. This plateau was bounded both to the right and
left by ravines, the one to the left being the head of the
valley in which was our baggage. The little valley which
divided us from the plateau widened out to the left, the spot
where it fell into the main valley being half a mile distant;
and here we could see the spot where our baggage would
arrive when it had climbed up from the valley beneath.
Sir Charles Staveley at once despatched the Punjaub
Pioneers to this point; that done, there was nothing for it
but to wait the event; and this waiting was painful in the
extreme.
It was now half-past three. Everyone was devoured
with a burning thirst, which the scanty draught of mud
seemed to excite rather than allay. Any money would have
been cheerfully given for a drink of pure water. A storm
was seen coming up, but it unfortunately did not pass over
us; we got, however, the tail of the shower, and by spreading
out my waterproof-sheet, I caught nearly half a pint,
which I shall long remember as one of the most refreshing
draughts I ever tasted.
In the mean time Sir Robert Napier had arrived with his
staff, and it was evident, by the anxious care with which he
reconnoitred the hill before us, and the head of the valley,
that he considered our position to be a critical one. We
could see with our glasses half-a-dozen guns in line on the
flat top of Fahla, and as many more upon Salamgi, and
presently we saw two artillerymen go from gun to gun, and
load them in succession. Still all was quiet; but it was a
time of most anxious suspense, for we knew that from the
fortress they could see our long line of animals winding up
the valley, and that the head of the train must be fast approaching.
Presently the Naval Rocket Brigade, which was
in front of the baggage, emerged upon the flat below us and
joined the Punjaubees; and almost at the same moment a
dozen voices proclaimed, A large force is coming down the
road on the brow of the fortress.
Every glass was turned there, and a large body of horse
and foot-men were seen hurrying down pell-mell, and without
any order or regularity. At first there was a divided
opinion as to whether this was a peaceful embassy or an
attack; but all doubt was put an end to in another minute
by the booming of a gun from Fahla, and by a thirty-two
pound shot striking the ground at a few yards from the body
of Punjaubees. It was war, then, and a general burst of
cheering broke from the officers who were clustered round
the General. Theodore actually meant to fight, and not
only that, but to fight in the open.
Still our position was a most serious one. The second
brigade was miles behind, the baggage undefended except
by the Punjaubees, and it was easy enough for the enemy
to make a circuit down the ravine and to avoid them. Sir
Robert Napier instantly despatched an aide-de-camp to Major
Chamberlain, commanding the Pioneers, to order him to
take up a position on elevated ground to his left, where he
could the better protect the baggage, and to order the Naval
Brigade to hurry up the valley to the commanding spur
upon which we were standing. Aide-de-camp after
aide-de-camp was sent back to bring up the infantry. It was a
most exciting five minutes. The enemy were coming down
with very great rapidity. They had already descended the
road from the fortress, and were scattered over the plain;
the principal body moving towards the valley in which was
our baggage, the rest advancing in scattered groups, while
the guns upon Fahla kept up a steady fire upon the Punjaubees.
A prettier sight is seldom presented in warfare
than that of the advance of the enemy. Some were in groups,
some in twos and threes. Here and there galloped chiefs
in their scarlet-cloth robes. Many of the foot-men, too,
were in scarlet or silk. They kept at a run, and the whole
advanced across the plain with incredible and alarming rapidity,
for it was for some time doubtful whether they would
not reach the brow of the little valley,—along which the
Rocket Train was still coming in a long single file,—before
the infantry could arrive to check them; and in that
case there can be no doubt that the sailors would have
suffered severely. The road, or rather path from the valley,
up to the spur upon which we stood, was steep and very
difficult, and considerable delay occurred in getting the animals
up. After a few minutes, which seemed ages, the
infantry came up at the double; all their fatigue and thirst
vanished as if by magic at the thought of a fight. The
4th, who were only about 300 strong—the remainder being
with the baggage—were ordered to go on in skirmishing
order; they were followed by the little party of Engineers,
then came the Beloochees, and after them the two companies
of the 10th N.I. and the Sappers and Miners. Just as the
head of the infantry went down into the valley, the leading
mules reached the top of the crest by our side, and in
less than a minute the first rocket whizzed out on the
plain.
It was our first answer to the fire which the guns of the
fortress had kept up, and was greeted with a general cheer.
As rocket after rocket rushed out in rapid succession, the
natives paused for a minute, astonished at these novel missiles,
and then, their chiefs urging them forward, they again
advanced. They were now not more than five hundred
yards from ourselves, a hundred from the edge of the little
ravine up the side of which the skirmishers of the 4th were
rapidly climbing. With my glass I could distinguish every
feature, and as we looked at them coming forward at a
run, with their bright-coloured floating robes, their animated
gestures, their shields and spears, one could not help feeling
pity for them, ruffians and cut-throats as most of them undoubtedly
were, to think what a terrible reception they were
about to meet with. In another minute the line of skirmishers
had breasted the slope, and opened a tremendous fire
with their Sniders upon the enemy. The latter, taken completely
by surprise, paused, discharged their firearms, and
then retreated, slowly and doggedly, but increasing in speed
as they felt how hopeless was the struggle against antagonists
who could pour in ten shots to their one. Indeed, at this
point they were outnumbered even by the 4th alone, for they
were in no regular order, but in groups and knots scattered
over the whole plain. The 4th advanced rapidly, driving
their antagonists before them, and followed by the native
regiments. So fast was the advance that numbers of the
enemy could not regain the road to the fortress, but were
driven away to the right, off the plateau, on to the side of a
ravine, from which the rockets again drove them, still further
to the right, and away from Magdala. The 4th and other
regiments formed up at a few hundred yards from the foot of
the ascent to the fortress, and for half-an-hour maintained an
animated fire against the riflemen who lined the path, and
kept up a brisk return from small rifle-pits and the shelter of
stones and rocks. All this time the guns upon Fahla and
some of those upon Salamgi, kept up a constant fire upon an
advancing line; but the aim was very bad, and most of the
shot went over our heads. Much more alarming were our
own rockets, some of which came in very unpleasant proximity
to us. Presently, to our great relief, the sailors joined
us, and soon drove the enemy’s riflemen up the hill, after
which they threw a few salvos of rockets with admirable aim
up at the guns a thousand feet above us, doing, as it afterwards
turned out, considerable damage, and nearly killing
Theodore himself, who was superintending the working of the
gun by his German prisoners. In the mean time a much
more serious contest was taking place upon our left. The
main body of the enemy had taken this direction to attack
the baggage, and advanced directly towards the Punjaub
Pioneers, who were defending the head of the road. Fortunately
Colonel Penn’s mountain train of steel guns, which
were following the naval train, now arrived at the top of
the road, instantly unloaded, and took their places by the side
of the Punjaubees. When the enemy were within three
hundred yards the steel guns opened with shell, the Punjaubees
poured in their fire and speedily stopped the advance
of the head of the column. The greater part of the natives then
went down the ravine to the left, along which they proceeded
to the attack of the baggage, in the main valley of which this
ravine was a branch. The baggage-guard, composed of a
detachment of the 4th, scattered along the long line, had already been
warned by the guns of the fortress that an attack was impending,
and Captain Aberdie, of the transport train, gallopping
down, brought them word of the advancing body of the
enemy. The various officers upon duty instantly collected
their men. Captain Roberts was in command, and was well
seconded by Lieutenants Irving, Sweeny, and Durrant of
the 4th, and by the officers of the transport train.
As the enemy poured down the ravine they were received
by a withering fire from the deadly Snider. A portion
of the Punjaubees came down the ravine and took them in
flank, and some of the guns of Penn’s battery, getting upon
a projecting spur, scattered death everywhere amongst them.
From the extreme rapidity of the fire of the Snider, the
firing at this time in different parts of the field was as heavy
and continuous as that of a general action between two large
armies. The Punjaubees behaved with great gallantry and
charged with the bayonet, doing great execution. The natives,
who had fought with great pluck, now attempted to
escape up the opposite side of the ravine, but great numbers
were shot down as they did so, their white dresses offering a
plain mark to our riflemen; at last, however, the remnant
gained the opposite bank, and fled across the country to our
left, their retreat to Magdala being cut off. The action, from
the first to the last gun, lasted an hour and a half. It was,
as far as our part of the fray was concerned, a mere skirmish.
We had not a single man killed, and only about thirty
wounded, most of them slightly. Captain Roberts, however,
was hit in the elbow-joint with a ball, and will, it is
feared, lose his arm. On the other hand, to the enemy this
is a decisive and crushing defeat. Upwards of five thousand
of Theodore’s bravest soldiers sallied out; scarcely as many
hundreds returned. Three hundred and eighty bodies were
counted the next morning, and many were believed to have
been carried off in the night. Very many fell on the slope
of the hill, and away in the ravines to our right and left,
where our burying-parties could not find them. Certainly
five hundred were killed, probably twice as many were
wounded, and of these numbers have only crawled away to
die. It was a terrible slaughter, and could hardly be called a
fight, between disciplined bodies of men splendidly armed,
and scattered parties of savages scarcely armed at all. Much
as the troops wish for an opportunity of distinguishing themselves,
I have heard a general hope expressed that we shall
not have to storm the place, for there is but little credit to be
gained over these savages, and the butchery would be very
great. The natives are, however, undoubtedly brave, and
behaved really very gallantly. Not a single shield, gun, or
spear has been picked up except by the side of the dead.
The living, even the wounded, retreated; they did not fly.
There was no sauve qui peut, no throwing away of arms, as
there would have been under similar desperate circumstances
by European troops. As the troops returned to the rear we
passed many sad spectacles. In one hollow a dozen bodies
lay in various positions. Some had died instantaneously, shot
through the head; others had fallen mortally wounded, and
several of these had drawn their robes over their faces, and
died like Stoics. Some were only severely wounded, and
these had endeavoured to crawl into bushes, and there lay
uttering low moans. Their gaudy silk bodices, the white
robes with scarlet ends which had flaunted so gaily but two
hours since, now lay dabbled with blood, and dank with the
heavy rains which had been pitilessly coming down for the
last hour.
I have omitted to mention that a tremendous thunderstorm
had come on while the engagement was at its height,
and the deep roar of the thunder had for a time completely
drowned the heavy rattle of musketry, the crack of the steel
guns, and the boom of the heavy cannon upon Fahla. Once,
when the storm was at its height, the sun had shone brightly
out through a rift of the thunder-clouds, and a magnificent
rainbow shone over the field upon which the combatants were
still fiercely contending. Only twice was the voice of man
heard loudly during the fight. The first was a great cheer
from the natives upon the hill, and which we could only
conjecture was occasioned by the return unharmed of some
favourite chief. The other was the cheer which the whole
British force gave as the enemy finally retired up into their
strongholds. Thus terminated, soon after six o’clock, one of
the most decided and bloody skirmishes which, perhaps, ever
occurred. It will be, moreover, memorable as being the first
encounter in which British troops ever used breech-loading
rifles. Tremendous as was the fire, and great as was the
slaughter, I am of opinion, and in this many of the military
men agree with me, that the number of the enemy killed
would have been at least as great had the troops been armed
with the Enfield. The fire was a great deal too rapid. Men
loaded and fired as if they were making a trial of rapidity of
fire, and I saw several instances in which only two or three
natives fell among a group, the whole of which would have
been mown down had the men taken any aim whatever. At
the end of an hour there was scarcely a cartridge left of the
ninety rounds which each man carried into action, and the
greater portion of them were fired away in the first quarter
of an hour. The baggage-guard used up all their stock, and
were supplied with fresh ammunition from the reserve which
they guarded. Against close bodies of men the breech-loader
will do wonders. In the gorges, where the natives
were clustered thickly together, it literally mowed them down.
Upon the open not one shot in a hundred told. In a great
battle the ammunition, at this rate of expenditure, would be
finished in an hour. From what I saw of the fighting, I am
convinced that troops should, if possible, load at the muzzle
when acting as skirmishers, and at the breech only when in
close conflict against large bodies of cavalry or infantry. It
is all very well to order men to fire slowly, a soldier’s natural
eagerness when he sees his enemy opposite to him will impel
him to load and fire as quickly as possible. He cannot
help it, nor can he carry more than sixty rounds of ammunition,
which will not last him twenty minutes. It certainly
appears to me that a soldier’s rifle should combine
breech- and muzzle-loading, and that he should only use the
former method when specially ordered by his commanding
officer.
The troops retired amidst a heavy rain, and were marched
back to the camp they had left to fetch their greatcoats and
blankets, which had been left behind when they advanced to
the fight. Then they returned to the ground held by the
Punjaubees, and took their station for the night, as they here
guarded the top of the road, at which the baggage was now
arriving, it having been kept back during the fight. It was
perfectly dark before we reached our camping-ground, and
as this was in many places covered with thorns and bushes,
which in the darkness were quite invisible, very considerable
confusion prevailed. Now that the excitement was over,
everyone was again tormented with thirst, but it was felt less
than it would otherwise have been, owing to the thorough
soaking which every man had got. Of course there was no
getting at the baggage, which remained on a flat behind us,
and everyone wrapped himself in his wet blanket and lay
down to snatch a little sleep if he could, and to forget hunger
and thirst for a while. As we had marched before daybreak,
and went into action long before any of the baggage-animals
came up, no one had taken food for the whole of the long
and fatiguing day. Very strong bodies of troops were thrown
out as pickets, and the whole were got up and under arms
at two in the morning, lest Theodore should renew his attack
before daybreak. There was now news that there was water
to be had in a ravine to our left, and the bheesties were sent
down with the water-skins, and numbers of the soldiers also
went down with their canteens. The water was worse than
any I ever drank before, and ever think to drink again.
Numbers of animals, mules or cattle, had been slaughtered
there; it appeared, in fact, to have been a camp of Theodore’s
army. The stench was abominable, and the water was
nearly as much tainted as the atmosphere. The liquid mud
we had drank the day before was, in comparison, a healthy
and agreeable fluid. However, there was no help for it, and
few, if any, refused the noxious fluid. This climate must
certainly be an extraordinarily healthy one; for, in spite of
hardship and privation, of wet, exposure, bad water, and
want of stimulants, the health of the troops has been unexceptionally
good. Only once, at Gazoo, have we had threatenings
of dysentery, and this passed away as soon as we moved
forward. I question if we had a single man in hospital upon
the day of the fight, which is certainly most providential,
considering the extreme paucity of medical comforts, and the
very few dhoolies available for the sick and wounded. Before
daybreak we again started—as the place upon which we
were encamped was within range of the enemy’s guns—and
marched back to this, the camping-ground of the preceding
afternoon.
The 2d brigade arrived soon after daylight, and took up
their camp a little in the rear of the position in which we had
passed the night. Our baggage came on with us, and we
had now the satisfaction of being in our tents again, and of
getting what we greatly needed—food. After breakfast I
rode over to the camp of the 2d brigade, and then, leaving
my horse, went down into the ravine, where fatigue-parties
were engaged in the work of burial. The scene was very
shocking. In one or two narrow gorges in which they had
been pent up, fifty or sixty dead bodies lay almost piled together.
Very ghastly were their wounds. Here was a man
nearly blown to pieces with a shell; near him another the
upper part of whose head had been taken off by a rocket; then
again, one who lay as if in a peaceful sleep, shot through
the heart; next to him one less fortunate, who, by the nature
of his wound, must have lingered in agony for hours through
the long night before death brought a welcome relief.
Two of them only still lived, and these were carried into
camp; but their wounds were of so desperate a nature that
it was probable they could not live many hours. Strangely
enough, there were no wounds of a trifling nature. All who
had not been mortally wounded had either managed to
crawl away, or had been removed by their friends. With a
very few exceptions it was a charnel-place of dead, whose
gaudy silk and coloured robes were in ghastly contrast with
their stiffened and contorted attitudes. Among the few survivors
was the Commander-in-chief of Theodore’s army, who
was carried to the camp. He, like the others we were able
to succour, expressed his gratitude for our kindness, and said
the affair had been a complete surprise to them. They saw
what was apparently a train of baggage without any protection
whatever coming up the valley; and they had not noticed
our small body of infantry on the brow. They sallied out
therefore, anticipating little or no resistance. It certainly
speaks well for the courage of the natives, that, taken by surprise,
as they must have been, by our infantry, with the
rockets and shells, they should yet have fought as bravely and
well as they did. There can be no doubt that, had not the
fight been brought on so suddenly as it was, and had the
2d brigade been at hand, we should have gone straight up
upon the heels of the fugitives, and captured the place then
and there. As it was, although it might have been done, the
troops were too tired and exhausted to have put them at such
an arduous task; for Theodore would, no doubt, have fought
with desperation, and we should have lost many men before
we could have surmounted the hill. I say this, because it is
the opinion of many that we might have taken the place at
once, had we chosen to go on.
Altogether it was a wonderful success, especially considering
that we fought under the disadvantage of a surprise,
and without the slightest previous plan or preparation. It
is only fortunate that we had to deal with Theodore and
Abyssinians, and not with regular troops.
Theodore was general enough to perceive and to take
advantage of Colonel Phayre’s egregious blunder; but his
troops were not good enough to carry out his intentions.
As to Colonel Phayre, it is not probable that we shall hear
any more of him while the expedition lasts; for Sir Robert
Napier’s long-suffering patience for once broke down, and
he opened his mind to Colonel Phayre in a way which that
officer will not forget for the rest of his life.
Before I left camp for my ride to the ravine, an event of
great interest occurred, but which I deferred mentioning in
its place, as I wished to complete my description of the battle
and field without a break. At half-past seven, just as I was
at breakfast, I heard a great cheering and hurrahing, and
found that Lieutenant Prideaux and Mr. Flad had come in
with proposals from Theodore. This was a great relief to
us all, as there was considerable fear that Theodore, in a fit
of rage at his defeat the day before, might have put all the
captives to death. This, however, was not the case. The
prisoners had indeed passed an unenviable afternoon while
the battle was going on; but Prideaux and Blanc consoled
each other, as they heard the heavy firing of our rifles, that
at least, if they were to die that night, they were to some
extent avenged beforehand. These two gentlemen have
throughout written in a spirit of pluck and resignation which
does them every honour.
Theodore had come in after the engagement in a rather
philosophical mood, and said, My people have been out to
fight yours. I thought that I was a great man, and knew
how to fight. I find I know nothing. My best soldiers have
been killed; the rest are scattered. I will give in. Go you
into camp and make terms for me.
And so the two captives came into camp. Both looked
well and hearty, and acknowledged that, as far as eating and
drinking go, they have been far better off than we are ourselves.
Indeed, with the exception of captivity and light
chains, the captives do not appear to have been ill-treated
for many months. They have their separate houses, their
servants, and anything they could buy with the supplies of
money sent to them.
A horrible business took place in Magdala on the very
day before our arrival. Theodore had all the European captives
out, and before their eyes put to death three hundred
and forty prisoners, many of whom he had kept in chains for
years. Among them were men, women, and little children.
They were brought out chained, and thrown down on the
ground, their heads fastened down to their feet. Among
this defenceless and pitiable group the brutal tyrant went
with his sword and slashed right and left until he had killed
a score or so. Then, getting tired, he called out six of his
musketeers, who continued to fire among the wretched crowd
until all were despatched. Their bodies were then thrown
over a precipice.
There is a general feeling of surprise expressed in camp
that the Englishmen who were witnesses of this horrible spectacle,
and who were themselves unfettered, did not make a
rush upon the monster and cut him down then and there.
They could hardly have increased their own danger, for
they tell us that they expected that they themselves would
be put to death after the murder of the native prisoners.
Besides, in the presence of so dreadful a butchery as this
must have been, a man does not calculate—he feels; and the
impulse to rush with a scream upon the drunken tyrant
and to kill him would, one would think, have been overpowering.
The captives describe the usual mode of execution, by
cutting-off the hands and feet, as being a refinement of
cruelty. A slight gash is made round the member, and it
is then wrenched-off by main force, the arteries being so
much twisted that very little loss of blood takes place. The
wretched beings are then left to die; and some of them linger
for many days, and then expire of thirst more than of their
wounds, it being death to administer either food or water to
them.
We can feel no pity for this inhuman monster; and
should he resist, there is every hope that he will be killed
in the fight. Sir Robert Napier declined to grant any conditions
whatever, demanding an instant surrender of the
whole of the prisoners and of the fortress, promising only
that Theodore and his family should be honourably treated.
With this answer the two captives returned, but came back
again at three o’clock with a message from Theodore, begging
that better terms might be offered him. Sir Robert
Napier was most reluctantly obliged to refuse, and the captives
again returned amidst the sorrowful anticipations of the
camp. At half-past six, to the great joy of all, Mr. Flad
came in with the news that the captives would all be in in
an hour; and at seven the whole of them came in safe and
sound, with the exception of Mrs. Flad and her children.
She, being unable to walk, had been left behind by the carelessness
or haste of Rassam, to whom the business had been
intrusted by Theodore. This person, Rassam, is very unpopular
among the rest of the prisoners; the only person who
seems to have liked him being Theodore himself, to whom
his demeanour, so different from that of Prideaux and Blanc,
had to a certain extent ingratiated him. I trust that
to-morrow will see Mrs. Flad and her children safe in the camp,
and then one of the objects of our expedition will have been
completely and satisfactorily attained. Theodore has until
mid-day to surrender Magdala; and if he does not do so, we
shall storm it to-morrow night or next day. Some more
scaling-ladders are in process of preparation, the materials
being the long bamboo dhoolie-poles for the sides, and the
handles of pickaxes for the rungs. The ladders are about
five feet wide and twenty long.
I close this letter now; but anticipate that my next, describing
the fall of Magdala, will be in time for the same
post by which this reaches England.
April 12th.
Contrary to expectation, the day has passed-off without
event. One reason for this was, that Mrs. Flad and her
children were still in Theodore’s hands, as also were some of
the European workmen. At two o’clock, however, they came
in; and we have now the whole of the captives safe in our
hands. We have quite a native camp within our own, indeed,
so large is the number of their attendants and following.
The principal English prisoners have done very well with the
money constantly supplied to them; but many of the German
workmen have a miserably pinched and starved appearance.
There are several half-castes among the party that have come
in; their fathers being English or other Europeans who have
resided in Abyssinia, their mothers natives. The natives
who have come in have an idea that wearing a piece of red
cloth round the head is a sign of friendliness to us, and they
therefore are generally so adorned. The released captives
start to-morrow for England. Theodore this morning sent
down a thousand cattle and five hundred sheep as a propitiatory
offering; but Sir Robert Napier refused to receive them,
and has sent-in a renewed demand for the surrender of the
fortress. It has been all day thought that the assault would
take place to-night, or rather at daybreak to-morrow. No
orders have, however, yet been issued, and it is now believed
that the attack will take place to-morrow, in which case it is
doubtful whether any description of the affair will reach you,
as I had hoped, by this mail.
Ten o’clock P.M.
I have just received certain information that the attack is
postponed. Sir Robert Napier, one of the kindest-hearted
of men, has sent-off a letter this evening to Theodore, urging
him to surrender, with a promise that his life shall be spared,
and the lives of all his men. He has pointed out to him that
his men cannot possibly resist our superior weapons; that cannon
greatly superior to those we used in the fight of Good
Friday have now arrived, and also the rest of our forces; so
that our success is certain. He has therefore implored him
to surrender, and to save any further effusion of blood, if not
for his own sake, at any rate for that of the women and children,
of whom alone it is said that there are 7000 in the
fortress. I most earnestly trust that Theodore will consent
to the appeal. Of course, the effusion of blood is to him, who
only three days ago murdered 350 men, a matter of small
moment. Still his own courage is failing. He yesterday,
when he heard of the terms demanded, pretended to attempt
to commit suicide, and fired a revolver close to his head; but
the ball only grazed his neck. This, however, shows that his
courage is failing: a brave man will never commit suicide;
still less will he, if driven by desperation to the act, inflict
only a slight wound upon himself. It is evident that he is
now afraid; and I trust that to save his own miserable life
he will surrender, and so save the butchery that must ensue
if we storm Magdala.
To-day being Easter Sunday, we had, as usual, a church-parade,
and our chaplain read the thanksgiving for our success,
in which I am sure all will heartily join.
Before Magdala, April 14th.
When I closed my letter of the 12th, I mentioned that
Sir Robert Napier had written to Theodore, urging him most
strongly to surrender, as he had no possibility of a successful
resistance; and the destruction of life, if we were to open fire
upon Magdala, would be terrible.
On the next morning several of the principal chiefs came
into camp, and said that they could not fight against our
troops, and would therefore surrender. They held, with
their people, Fahla and Salamgi, and would hand-over these
fortresses to us, on condition that themselves and their families
were allowed to depart with their property unharmed.
With them came Samuel, a man who has been frequently
mentioned in connection with the prisoners, both in their
own letters and in Dr. Beke’s work. This man exercised a
strongly prejudicial influence at the early period of their captivity,
but has since shown them kindness. Having been
one of Theodore’s principal advisers, one could hardly have
expected to see him deserting his master in his adversity.
Samuel is a strongly-built man, with remarkably intelligent
features, and rather grizzly iron-gray hair, which he wears
in its natural state, and not plaited and grease-bedaubed in
the Abyssinian fashion. Sir Robert Napier accepted the
surrender, and gave permission for the departure of their
families and effects. Captain Speedy was ordered to return
with them, with fifty of the 3d Native Cavalry, under
Colonel Locke. Orders had been previously given for the
whole of the troops to parade on the flat in front of the
fortress. In half an hour after the departure of the cavalry,
the troops were formed up, and made an imposing show, the
first we have had since we landed. Hitherto the brigades
have been separated, and so large a portion of them have
been scattered along the line of baggage, that we have never
had an opportunity of seeing our real force. We could now
see that it was a very formidable body. The 33d were drawn
up 750 strong; the 4th, 450; the 45th, 400. We had now
the whole of the Beloochees, their left wing having arrived
during the night, and the whole of the Punjaubees. We had
two companies of the 10th Native Infantry, and six companies
of Sappers and Miners—altogether a very complete
body of infantry. We had Murray’s Armstrong battery, two
seven-inch mortars, Penn’s Mountain Train of steel guns,
Twiss’s Mountain Train, and the Naval Rocket Brigade—a
very respectable corps of artillery. In cavalry alone we were
wanting, having only the fifty troopers of the 3d Native Cavalry,
who had come as the Commander-in-chief’s escort,
and who had now just reached the top of the crest of Fahla.
The rest of the cavalry—namely, the 3d Dragoons, 3d and
12th Native Cavalry and Scinde Horse—had been sent round
into the valley to cut off Theodore’s retreat. General Staveley
was, of course, in command of the division. We moved
forward, headed by the 33d, to whom, as having—of the
European regiments—borne the brunt of the advance work
throughout, was now assigned the honour of first entering
and of placing the British flag upon Magdala. They were
followed by the 45th, Murray’s and Twiss’s battery, and the
rest of the second brigade, which had not had an opportunity
of taking part in the action on Good Friday. Then came
the 4th and the rest of the 1st brigade, with the exception of
the troops who were left behind to take care of the camp.
Major Baigrie, as quartermaster-general of the 1st division,
rode in advance.
As the long line wound up the steep ascent in Fahla the
effect was very pretty, and elicited several remarks that this
was our Easter-Monday review. On the way up we met a
large number of men, women, and children upon their way
down. Once upon the shoulder which connects Fahla and
Salamgi, we found ourselves in the midst of a surprising
scene. A perfect exodus was in progress. Many thousands
of men, women, and children were crowded everywhere,
mixed up with oxen, sheep, and donkeys. The women, children,
and donkeys were laden with the scanty possessions
of the inhabitants. Skins of grain and flour, gourds and jars
of water and ghee, blankets for coverings and tents—these
were their sole belongings. It was a Babel of noises. The
women screamed their long, quavering cry of admiration
and welcome; men shouted to each other from rock to rock;
mothers who had lost their children screamed for them, and
the children wailed back in return; sheep and goats bleated,
and donkeys and mules brayed. It was an astonishing scene.
All seemed extremely glad to see us, and to be relieved from
the state of fear and starvation in which they had existed;
men, women, and children bent until their foreheads touched
the ground in token of submission. The men who bore no
arms carried burdens, as did the women; but the warriors
only carried their arms. The number of gaudy dresses
among the latter was surprising, and their effect was very
gay and picturesque. Shirts of red, blue, or purple brocade,
with yellow flowers, and loose trousers of the same material,
but of a different hue, were the prevailing fashion with the
chiefs. These were distinguished from the soldiers by having
silver ornaments upon their shields. At present all retained
their arms; but the 10th Native Infantry had been left at
the foot of the hill with orders to disarm them as they came
down the road. All along our march over Salamgi this
extraordinary scene continued; and we saw more people than
we have seen during the whole time we have been in Abyssinia.
The general opinion is, that there could not have been
less than thirty thousand people congregated here; and I
believe that this computation is rather under than over the
mark.
There was a universal feeling of thankfulness that we had
not been obliged to bombard the place, as the slaughter among
this defenceless crowd of people would have been terrible.
Wherever was a level piece of ground, there their habitations
were clustered. They were mere temporary abodes—a framework
of sticks, covered with coarse grass, placed regularly
and thickly, so as to turn the rain. They were about the
size and shape of ordinary haycocks, and show that the people
must sleep, as they sit, curled almost into a ball.
From the shoulder we climbed up the very winding road
on the face of the natural scarps to Salamgi. The natural
strength of these positions is astounding. Fahla is tremendously
strong; but yet it is as nothing to Salamgi, which
commands it. Colonel Milward, who commands the artillery,
remarked to me that in the hands of European troops
it would be not only impregnable, but perfectly unattackable.
Gibraltar from the land side is considered impregnable; but
Gibraltar is absolutely nothing to this group of fortresses.
After capturing Fahla and Salamgi—if such a thing were
possible—an attacking force would still have Magdala to deal
with; and Magdala rises from the end of the flat shoulder
which connects it with Salamgi in an unbroken wall, except
at the one point where a precipitous road leads up to the
gate. It is 2500 yards from the top of Salamgi to Magdala,
and even the heaviest artillery could do nothing against the
wall of rock. We may well congratulate ourselves that
Theodore sent his army to attack our baggage; for had they
remained and defended the place, provided as they were with
forty cannon, our loss would have been very heavy; and
even with our superior weapons it is a question whether we
could have succeeded, the road in many cases winding along
the face of a precipice, which a few men from above merely
rolling down stones could have cleared. When we had
reached the brow of Salamgi—a still higher scarp of which
rose two hundred feet above us—Major Baigrie halted for
orders, and I rode on with two or three others to the little
body of the 3d Native Cavalry, who were half a mile further
on, at the edge of the flat between Salamgi and Magdala.
I should say that early in the morning we had received
news that Theodore had left in the night with a small body
of his adherents, and intended to gain the camp of the Queen
of the Gallas, and to throw himself upon her hospitality, the
Gallas being wandering tribes, who, like the Arabs, would
protect their bitterest enemy if he reached their tents and
claimed hospitality. When we were nearly at the top of the
hill, we had received a message from the cavalry, saying that
there was a rumour that Theodore had returned, and had
committed suicide.
When we reached the cavalry, however, we found a state
of some excitement prevailing: some eight or ten horsemen,
among whom Captain Speedy had recognised Theodore himself,
having just galloped up brandishing spears and discharging
their muskets in defiance. Colonel Locke could
not, of course, charge without orders; and, indeed, it would
have been most imprudent to do so, as the whole of the
shoulder, a quarter of a mile wide, and six or seven hundred
yards to the fort of Magdala, were covered with the little
huts, behind and in which any number of men might be
concealed. Colonel Locke then threw-out a few of his men
as skirmishers. The horsemen continued to gallop about,
sometimes approaching to within three hundred yards, sometimes
dashing across the plateau as if they meditated a descent
into the valley far below by one of the winding paths
which led down. To prevent this, Colonel Locke called to
five or six soldiers of the 33d, and two or three artillerymen,
who had somehow got separated from their corps and had
come down towards us, to take up a position to command
the path, and to open fire if the horsemen attempted to go
down it.
At the same time we saw upon the top of Salamgi, behind
us, a company of the 33d, who had gone up there to plant
the colours. Colonel Locke had the advance blown, and
signalled to them to come down to command the opposite
side of the shoulder, in case the horsemen might attempt to
descend into the valley by any path which might exist upon
that side. The horsemen again moved in and discharged their
rifles at us; and the cavalry keeping their places, our little
party of 33d answered with their Sniders. As they did so,
they moved forward, and in another hundred yards we came
upon no less than twenty cannon, which Theodore had, no
doubt, intended to have moved across into Magdala, but had
had no time to accomplish. These were, of course, taken
possession of; and, as an officer remarked with a laugh to
me, it is probably the first time that twenty guns were ever
captured in the face of an enemy by six men of the line, two
artillerymen, three or four officers, and the press. In the
tumbrils of the guns were their ammunition; and Lieutenant
Nolan, of the Artillery, assisted by two artillerymen, Captain
Speedy, and the civilians, at once proceeded to load them,
and opened fire with ball upon the foot-men, a hundred or
so of whom we could now see clustered at the foot of the road
up to Magdala; the 33d men keeping up a fire upon the
horsemen and a few foot-men running over the plains, and
who occasionally answered; and the company of the 33d, who
had now come down nearly to the foot of the slope behind us,
also opening fire. It was one of the funniest scenes I ever
saw. There was Magdala at 500 yards’ distance, with its
garrison keeping up a scattered fire at us, none of the bullets,
however, reaching so far; there were a few shots from behind
the little haycock huts; there was Theodore himself galloping
about with half a dozen of his chiefs—picturesque figures in
their bright-coloured robes; and there was our little party
waging a war upon them, with not another soldier in sight,
or, indeed, within half a mile of us. This lasted for ten
minutes or so; and then an officer rode up to order the
infantry to retire into the slope, but to keep the guns under
their fire. The cavalry had previously been ordered to retire.
In another quarter of an hour Penn’s battery came down to
us and opened fire, and the steel shells soon drove the enemy
up the road into the fortress. For a quarter of an hour they
continued their fire; and, when they had once got the range,
every shell burst close to the gateway, through which the
road passed. Then there came an order to cease firing; and
Murray’s guns, which had taken up their position upon the
top of Salamgi, Twiss’s battery more to the right, and the Naval
Rocket Brigade, took up the fire. For nearly two hours,
with occasional intervals, these guns and Twiss’s battery kept
up their fire. While this was going on, we discovered in
a small tent, a hundred yards or so in our front, the Frenchman
Bardel, who is sick with a fever, and was at once
carried to the rear. We had, too, plenty of time to examine
the guns. Some were of English, some of Indian manufacture:
all were of brass, and varied in size from a fourteen-pounder
downwards. There were two or three small mortars
among them. This was evidently the arsenal, for here were
tools and instruments of all descriptions—files, hammers,
anvils, &c. There were bags of charcoal and a forge; and
here were many hundreds of balls, varying in size from
grape-shot to immense stone balls for the giant mortar,
which shattered to pieces the other day at the first attempt
to fire it.
At this time we made a discovery which quite destroyed
the feeling of pity which the gallantry of Theodore in exposing
himself to our fire had excited. The Beloochees had
joined us, and were posted near the edge of a precipice to
our right. Their attention being attracted by an overpowering
stench, they looked over the edge of the rock; and
there, fifty feet below, was one of the most horrifying sights
which was ever beheld: there, in a great pile, lay the bodies
of the three hundred and fifty prisoners whom Theodore had
murdered last Thursday, and whom he had then thrown over
the edge of the precipice. There they lay—men, women,
and little children—in a putrefying mass. It was a most
ghastly sight, and recalled to our minds the horrible cruelty
of the tyrant, and quite destroyed the effect which his bravery
had produced.
At last, at half-past three, the troops came down and
took their places; and at a quarter to four the whole of the
guns and rockets opened a tremendous fire to cover the
advance; and the 33d, preceded by a small band of Engineers
and Sappers under Major Pritchard, and followed
by the 45th, advanced to the assault, the 4th and the rest of
the first brigade retaining their places as a reserve. When
within three hundred yards of the rock, the 33d formed line
and opened fire at the gateway and high hedge which bordered
the summit of the precipice—the most tremendous fire
I ever heard. Even the thunder—which was, as during the
fight of Good Friday, roaring overhead—was lost in the
roar of the seven hundred Snider rifles, and which was re-echoed
by the rocks in their front. Under cover of this
tremendous fire the Engineers and the leading company
advanced up the path. When they were half-way up, the
troops ceased firing, and the storming-party scrambled up
at a run. All this time answering flashes had come back
from a high wall which extended for some feet at the side
of the gateway, and from behind the houses and rocks
near it. When the Engineers, headed by Major Pritchard,
reached the gateway, several shots were fired through loopholes
in the wall, and two or three men staggered back
wounded, Major Pritchard himself receiving two very slight
flesh-wounds in the arm. The men immediately put their
rifles through the holes, and kept up a constant fire, so as to
clear-away their enemies from behind it.
Then there was a pause, which for a time no one understood;
but at last a soldier forced his way down the crowded
path with the astounding intelligence that the Engineers, who
had headed the storming-party for the purpose of blowing the
gate in, had actually forgotten to take any powder with them!
Neither had they crowbars, axes, or scaling-ladders. General
Staveley at once despatched an officer to bring up powder
from the artillery-wagons.
The 45th opened fire to prevent the enemy’s skirmishers
doing damage; and a few pioneers of the 45th were sent up
with axes to force open the gate. In the mean time, however,
the men of the 33d, upon the road leading up to the
gate, discovered a spot half-way up, by which they were able
to scramble up to the left, and, getting through the hedge,
they quickly cleared away the defenders of the gate. A large
portion of the regiment entered at this spot, the gate not
being fairly opened for a quarter of an hour after the storming-party
arrived at it; for when it was broken down, it was
found that the gate-house was filled with very large stones;
and therefore, had powder been at hand, and the gate been
blown in, a considerable time must have elapsed before the
party could have entered. Behind the gateway were a cluster
of huts, many of whose inhabitants still remained in them in
spite of the heavy fire which had for two hours been kept up.
Behind them was a natural scarp of twenty-five or thirty feet
high, with a flight of steps wide enough only for a single
man to ascend at a time. At the top of this was another
gate, which had been blown open by the rifles of the 33d. I
entered with the rear of the regiment; but all was by that
time over. By the first gateway were six or seven bodies,
and two or three men by the second. Beyond this was the
level plateau, thickly scattered with the native huts of their
ordinary construction—not the haycock-fabrics which had
covered the other hills and plateau. At a hundred yards
from the gate lay the body of Theodore himself, pierced with
three balls, one of which, it is said, he fired with his own
hand. He was of middle height and very thin, and the
expression of his face in death was mild rather than the
reverse. He had thrown-off the rich robe in which he had
ridden over the plain, and was in an ordinary chief’s red-and-white
cloth.
The fighting was now over. A hundred men or so had
escaped down a path upon the other side of the fortress,
and the rest of the defenders had fled into their houses, and
emerged as peaceable inhabitants without their weapons.
Nothing could be more admirable than the behaviour of the
33d. I did not see a single instance of a man either of this
or of the regiment which followed attempting to take a single
ornament or other article from the person of any of the natives.
These latter thronged out of their houses, bearing their
household goods, and salaaming to the ground, as they made
their way towards the gate of the fort. I went into several
of the abandoned huts; they contained nothing but rubbish.
A few goats and cattle stood in the enclosures, and bags of
grain were in plenty. The poor people had been well content
to escape with their lives, and with what they could
carry away on their own shoulders and those of their pack-animals.
I presently met an affecting procession. These were the
native prisoners. Laden with heavy feet-chains were at
least a hundred poor wretches who had lingered for years in
the tyrant’s clutches. Many of them were unable to walk,
and were carried along by their friends. We pitied them
vastly more than we have done the prisoners sent in to us,
who, with commodious tents, numbers of servants, and plentiful
supplies of money and food, have had a far better time
of it than these poor wretches of natives. They endeavoured
in every way to express their joy and thankfulness. They
bent to the ground, they cried, they clapped their hands;
and the women—at least such as were not chained—danced,
and set-up their shrill cry of welcome. Very kind were the
soldiers to them, and not a few gave-up their search for odd
articles of plunder to set-to with hammer and chisel to remove
their chains. There were some hundreds of huts upon
the flat plateau, but not one of them bore any signs of the
bombardment; and fortunately the great distance at which
the guns were fired had saved the inhabitants from the injury
which they must otherwise have suffered from the needless
bombardment. A few people had been wounded when
the 33d had first entered, but their number was very small;
and it seems incredible that out of so large a population only
some ten or fifteen, and these the defenders of the gate, were
killed.
The huts were all of the same size and description—stone
walls with conical roofs, and no light except that which
entered by the door. The King himself lived in a tent. His
wife, or I should rather say wives, lived in a house precisely
similar in shape, but larger than the other tents. One
or two of these poor women were among the wounded, having
rushed wildly about the place before the firing ceased, and
being struck by stray bullets. It is extremely satisfactory to
know that no lives, with the exception of those of the actual
fighting-men, were sacrificed.
We have no killed, but have ten or fifteen wounded,
most of them very slightly. One of the Punjaubees who
was wounded in the fight three days before has since died.
The loot obtained by the soldiers was generally of the most
trifling description. Pieces of the hangings of the King’s
tent, bits of tawdry brocade, and such-like, are the general
total. A very few got some gold crosses, and other more
valuable articles. A general order has been issued, ordering
all valuable spoil to be returned; but I do not imagine that
the amount returned will be large. All the spoil taken, with
the arms, &c., will be sold by auction in a day or two, and
the result at once divided. It is known that considerable
sums in dollars and gold have been buried, and a search
is being instituted for them, but without, I imagine, much
chance of success. In my wanderings I came upon a large
hut, which turned out to be the royal cellar. Here the
natives were serving-out tedge
—which I have already described
as a drink resembling small-beer and lemonade mixed,
with a very strong musty flavour—to soldiers. There were
at least a hundred large jars filled with the liquid, which the
soldiers call beer, and which, thirsty as the men were, was
very refreshing. It was now nearly six o’clock, and the
soldiers had had nothing to eat or drink since early morning.
I should say that every soldier in the force supped that night
upon fowl. Their value here, except when offered to us
for sale, is merely nominal, and none of the people took the
trouble to take them away; consequently they were running
about in hundreds, and gave rise to many animated
chases.
Magdala itself is about half a mile long by a quarter of
a mile wide, its narrow end joining the shoulder to Salamgi,
and as this end is rather narrow, it touches the shoulder only
for about fifty or sixty yards. At this point I should say
that the plateau of the fortress is 200 feet above the shoulder.
Upon its other side it would be 1200 feet sheer down. The
33d planted their colours upon the highest spot, and General
Napier when he entered addressed a few words to the men,
saying, that they had made the attack in gallant style.
Of course, as it turned out, the danger was slight; but this
does not detract from the way in which the regiment went up
to the assault; as, for anything they could tell, there might
have been hundreds of men concealed in the huts immediately
behind the gate.
The two most valuable articles of booty which were known
to have been obtained were purchased by Mr. Holmes, of the
British Museum, for the nation, of the soldiers by whom they
were taken. The one was, one of the royal shields of Abyssinia,
one of which I described as having been borne by
Gobayze’s uncle when he visited our camp. The other is a
gold chalice, probably four or five centuries old. It has the
inscription in Amharic, of which the following is the translation:
The chalice of King Adam-Squad, called Gazor,
the son of Queen Brhan, Moquera. Presented to Kwoskwan
Sanctuary (Gondar). May my body and soul be purified!
Weight 25 wohkits of pure gold, and value 500 dollars.
Made by Waldo Giergis.
The name of the maker would
seem to testify that he was either the son of an Italian, or
an Italian who had adopted an Abyssinian first name. As
these acquisitions are made for the nation, Sir Robert has
decided that they are not to be given up. He has also
directed that Mr. Holmes may select such other articles as
may be suited to the Museum before the auction takes
place.
The second brigade passed the night in Magdala, and still
remain there; the first brigade returned to camp, which they
did not reach until a very late hour. The aspect of the hill
of Salamgi, and of the plains below it, was very striking, as
I rode through it at night. The great emigrant population
had encamped there, and their innumerable fires had a very
pretty effect. During the night a very scandalous act of
theft and sacrilege took place. The coffin of the late Abuna,
a high priest, was broken open; his body was torn almost
to pieces, and a cross, set with precious stones of the value
of some thousands of pounds, was stolen. It is quite certain
that this act was not perpetrated by our soldiers, as they of
course knew nothing either of the Abuna or his cross. Suspicion
generally points to some of the late prisoners, who
knew, what was, it appears, a matter of notoriety, that the
Abuna had purchased this extremely valuable ornament to
be buried with it.
The expedition is now at an end. Its objects are most
successfully attained, and the interest and excitement are
over. We have now only our long and weary march back
again. The day upon which we turn our faces homeward
is not yet settled; the 20th is at present named. We shall
probably halt at Dalanta for a day or two, and there it is
said that Gobayze will visit the Chief, and that we shall have
a grand parade.
The opinion which the natives will entertain of us upon
our homeward march will be singularly different from those
with which they regarded us upon our advance. Then they
looked upon us as mere traders, prepared to buy, but incompetent
to fight for our countrymen in chains; now they will
regard us as the conquerors of the hitherto invincible Theodore,
and as braves, therefore, of the most distinguished
order.
Before Magdala, April 16th.
My letter describing the fall of Magdala was only written
two days ago, and I have but few scraps of intelligence to
add. These, however, I shall now send, in hopes that they
may arrive by the same mail which conveyed my last. We
have had only two excitements here; the one the perquisition—indeed,
by the way it was conducted, I may call it
inquisition—for loot; the other, the constant plunder by
those arrant thieves, the Gallas. The first orders with respect
to plunder were reasonable and sensible enough. They
were, that all articles of intrinsic value, or which might be
nationally interesting, were to be given up. This no one
objected to. It was only fair that all booty collected of any
value should be fairly divided for the benefit of the force in
general. The next order, however, was simply ridiculous,
and caused naturally a good deal of grumbling. It was
ordered that every article taken, of whatever value or description,
should be returned. Now, the men had possessed
themselves of all sorts of small mementoes of the capture of
Magdala. Spears and glass beads, books and scraps of
dresses, empty gourds and powder-horns, all sorts of little
objects in fact, the united intrinsic value of which would not
be twenty dollars, but which were valuable mementoes to
the three or four thousand men who had picked them up—all
these were now to be given up; and so strict was the
search, that I saw even the men’s havresacks examined to see
that they had hidden nothing. The pile of objects collected
was of the most miscellaneous description, and looked like
the contents of a pawnbroker’s shop in the neighbourhood of
Whitechapel. These things were valuable to the men, as
having been collected by them in Magdala; but they will
fetch nothing whatever when sold. It is a very great pity
that the original order was not adhered to, as the men would
have all acquiesced cheerfully enough in the summons that
articles of intrinsic value should be delivered up. As it is,
the whole value of the plunder will not exceed ten thousand
dollars in value, and, indeed, I question if it will approach
that sum. The principal articles of value, with the exception
of some crosses, are of English manufacture, double-barrelled
guns, &c.; in fact, the presents which the English
Government sent out by Rassam. A medical court have examined
Theodore’s body, and have come to the conclusion
that he died by his own hand. Mr. Holmes, of the British
Museum, has taken an exceedingly good likeness of the dead
monarch; indeed, I do not know that I ever saw a more
striking resemblance. The Engineers have also taken a
photograph of him.
The Gallas have been extremely troublesome for the last
three days. The unfortunate fugitives from Magdala are
encamped at the foot of the hill, and are gradually moving-off
to their respective homes. Round their camp, and round
the unfortunates upon their march, the Gallas swarm in great
numbers, robbing, driving-off their cattle and donkeys, carrying-off
their women and children into captivity, and wounding,
and sometimes killing, all who oppose them. Sometimes,
too, they attempt to rob our mules and stores. We do all we
can to protect the defenceless people, and detachments are
constantly going out to drive the robbers off. The infantry,
the rocket-train, and the guns have several times had to fire,
and several of the plunderers have been killed. Eighteen are
at present prisoners in our camp, some of whom were concerned
in the murder of one of the Abyssinians. The night
before last they made an attack upon some of the mules with
the baggage of the 33d, near Magdala, but were beaten off
with the loss of several men. Now that we have got Magdala,
our difficulty is to dispose of it, and it is this only which
is keeping us waiting here. Magdala is, as I have already
said, an almost impregnable place, even in the hands of these
savages. North and west of them the people are Christians.
Whether their Christianity, or the Christianity of any savage
people, does them any good whatever, or makes them the
least more moral or better than their neighbours, it is needless
now to inquire. At any rate they are a settled people,
living by the culture of their land. To the east of these
agricultural people are the Gallas, nomadic Mussulmans,
whose hand is against every man’s, who live by robbery
and violence, and who are slavers and man-stealers of the
worst kind. Against them Magdala stands as a bulwark.
It is on the road between their country and Abyssinia proper,
and the garrison can always fall upon their rear in case
of an attempted foray. It was therefore desirable that it
should be intrusted to some power strong enough to hold in
check this nation of robbers. Theodore’s son, who, with his
wives, has fallen into our hands, is too young to be thought
of, and there remains only Gobayze, and his rival Menilek.
Menilek in the early days of the expedition was heard a good
deal of. General Merewether was always writing about him
and his army of forty thousand men, and his great friendship;
but, like most of the gallant general’s promised lands,
Menilek’s assistance turned out a myth, and we have never
heard of him since we came within a hundred miles of Magdala.
Gobayze, on the other hand, has at any rate turned
out to be a real personage. He has never, it is true, done
the slightest thing to assist us in any way; still his uncle
paid us a visit, and nearly got shot, so that we may presume
that this uncle really has a nephew called Gobayze. Gobayze
has been written to, to come and take possession of
Magdala, but he has not arrived; but this morning his uncle
has again appeared upon the scene, and, I understand, declines,
in the name of his relative, to have anything to say to
Magdala. Magdala, in fact, except as a stronghold to retreat
to as a last resource, is absolutely valueless. It is too far removed
from the main portion of Abyssinia to be of any strategical
importance, and it would require a couple of thousand
men to garrison it, and who would have to be supplied with
provisions from a considerable distance. Gobayze wants all
his available force for the struggle he will be engaged in
with Menilek as soon as we leave the country, and he does
not at all care about detaching two thousand men to an extreme
corner of his dominions, where they could in no way
affect the issue of the war. He may change his mind; but if
he should not do so, we shall in a couple of days start upon
our backward course, and abandon Magdala to the first comer.
The Abyssinians complain bitterly of our mode of fighting.
With them an engagement is a species of duel. Both sides
charge simultaneously, discharge their pieces, and retreat to
load, repeating the manœuvre until one side or the other has
had enough of it. They object, therefore, excessively to our
continuous advance and fire, without any pause to reload.
It is to this unseemly practice that they attribute their defeat.
The whole army are looking forward with the greatest
eagerness for the order to retire. Existence here is not a
pleasant one. The weather in the day is dry, hot, but not
unpleasant; in the afternoon we have always heavy rains,
and cold at night. Our variety of provisions is not great.
We have plenty of meat, and little flour; no rum, no tea, no
sugar, no vegetables. By the way, the commissariat actually
managed to supply the extraordinarily liberal allowance of
one dram of rum per man to the force on the day after the
capture of Magdala. But our great want is water. We are
literally without water. A mile and a half off is a limited
quantity, but it is very limited indeed, and stinks abominably;
so bad is it, that it is difficult to distinguish what one
is drinking, even if one is fortunate enough to procure tea or
coffee; and even of this there is not sufficient for drinking
purposes alone, and a man enters another tent and asks as
eagerly for a cup of water as if it were the choicest of drinks.
Washing is altogether out of the question; and the animals
have to be taken down to the muddy Bachelo, fifteen hundred
feet below us, and six miles distant, for their daily draught.
Decidedly the sooner we are out of this the better. At present
the 18th is the happy day decided upon; and I earnestly
hope that nothing will occur to postpone our departure. Some
of the troops will certainly start to-day or to-morrow.
Antalo, May 1st.
There are few things of less interest than the closing
chapter of a campaign. The excitement and anxiety, the
success and triumph, are over; the curtain has fallen upon
the play, and we have only to put on our wraps and go home.
Even by the present date the telegraph has told England of
the success with which the expedition has been crowned.
When he has once read the details, the English reader will,
after the first little burst of natural pride and satisfaction, sit
himself down with a slight sigh to count the cost, and then
endeavour, as far as possible, to forget the unpleasant subject.
I feel that the heading of my letter, The Abyssinian Expedition,
will no longer be an attractive one. Epilogues are
gone out of fashion, and are only retained as a relic of the
past at the annual play of the Westminster boys. I should
imagine that at the end of a modern play very few people
would sit-out an epilogue; and in the same way, I anticipate
that very few readers will care for hearing any more about
the barren and mountainous country in which it has been our
lot to sojourn for the last six months. I should imagine that
they must be nearly as weary of the subject as we are ourselves.
Never certainly in my experience have special correspondents
had so hard or so ungrateful a task as that which
has devolved upon us here. The country through which the
army has marched has been barren and mountainous in the
extreme. The actual events have been few and far between.
There has been no opportunity for generalship or strategical
movement. It has been one long, slow, monotonous march,
accompanied with more or less hardship to all concerned. It
has presented no points of comparison with the shifting scenes
and exciting phases of a European campaign. It is only by
its results, and by the remembrance of the hostile criticisms
and lugubrious prophecies with which it was assailed in its
early days, that we ourselves can judge of the difficulty of the
task accomplished, and of the way in which the world will
view it. It has to us been simply a monotony of hard work
and hard living. Until the last week of our march we had
no excitement whatever to enliven it; and, as far as the
incidents of the campaign have been concerned, there has
been but little to recompense the British taxpayer for his
outlay. In other respects there is no doubt that, worthless
as were the set of people as a whole in whose favour this
costly expedition has been undertaken, the money has been
well spent. In no other way, with so comparatively small
an outlay, could Great Britain have recovered the prestige
which years of peace had undoubtedly much impaired
both in Europe and the East. England has shown that
she can go to war really for an idea; that she can embark
in a war so difficult, hazardous, and costly, that no other
European Power would have undertaken it under similar circumstances,
and this, without the smallest idea of material
advantage to herself. England had, pace our French critics,
no possible benefit to derive from the conquest or occupation
of Abyssinia. With Aden and Perim in our power, the Red
Sea is virtually an English lake, and the possession of Abyssinia,
hundreds of miles from the port of Annesley Bay, which
in itself is quite out of the track of vessels between Suez and
Aden, would be a source of weakness rather than of additional
strength. The war was undertaken purely from a generous
national impulse, aggravated by the feeling that the captivity
of our unfortunate countrymen was due to no fault of their
own, but attributable to the gross blundering of the men to
whom the foreign affairs of the nation were unfortunately
intrusted. Our success has been astonishing even to ourselves,
and has been providentially accomplished in the face
of blunders and mistakes which would have ruined any other
expedition.
In my last letter I stated that Gobayze had declined to accept
the charge of Magdala. It was consequently determined
to burn it; and on the 18th ultimo fire was applied, and in a
very short time the whole of the thatched tents were in a
blaze. The wind was blowing freshly at the time, and in
a few minutes the whole of the plateau of Magdala was
covered with a fierce blaze, which told to the surrounding
country for miles that the last act of atonement was being
inflicted. Had the scene taken place at night, it would
have been grand in the extreme; but even in broad day the
effect of the sheet of flame, unclouded as it was by smoke—for
the dry roofs burned like tinder—was very fine. Imagine
a gigantic farmyard of three-quarters of a mile long by nearly
half a mile wide, and containing above 300 hayricks, in a
blaze; and the effect of burning Magdala may be readily conceived.
Simultaneously with the conflagration the gates were
blown up and the pieces of ordnance burst; and then the
troops who had been told-off for the task retired from the
scene of their signal success to join their comrades, and march
the next day for the sea-shore. I started for Dalanta the
day before the departure of the troops, and was very glad
that I did so, as I thereby avoided the tremendous confusion
of the baggage, part of which was nearly thirty hours upon
the road, and witnessed one of the most extraordinary scenes
I ever beheld. At the Bachelo river I came upon the van
of the principal column of the fugitives from Magdala, who
had encamped upon the previous night by the stream. Here
the number of empty gourds, cooking-vessels, and rubbish
of all kinds, showed that, scanty as their baggage was, it
was already too great for their means of transport. A mile
farther I came upon their rear. As far as the eye could
reach up the winding path to the summit of the gorge, they
swarmed in a thick gray multitude. Thirty thousand human
beings, men, women, and children, besides innumerable animals
of all kinds. Never, probably, since the great Exodus
from Egypt, was so strange a sight witnessed. All were
laden; for once, the men had to share the labours of their
wives and families; and indeed I may say that the males of
this portion of Abyssinia are less lazy, and more willing to
bear their share of the family-labours, than were the men of
Tigre, who, as I before mentioned, never condescend to assist
their wives in any way. The men carried bags of grain—which,
by the way, the men always carry on one shoulder,
and not upon their backs as the women do; the women were
similarly burdened, and in addition had gourds of water and
ghee, with a child or two clinging round their necks. The
children, too, carried their share of the household goods, all
but the very little ones; and these, little, naked, pot-bellied
things, trotted along holding by their mothers’ skirts. A
few, who in the crowd and confusion had lost their friends,
sat down and cried pitifully; but as a general thing they
kept steadily up the steep ascent, which was trying enough
to men, to say nothing of these poor little mites. Although
an involuntary exodus, it did not appear to me to cause any
pain or regret to anyone. Neither upon this occasion nor
upon the day when they quitted Magdala did I see a tear
shed, or witness any demonstrations of grief. Now, the
Abyssinians are an extremely demonstrative people, and weep
and wail copiously and obstreperously over the smallest fancied
grievance; consequently, I cannot but think that the great
proportion of the people were glad to leave Magdala, and
to return to their respective countries. All pressed steadily
forward; there was no halting, no delay, scarce a pause to
take breath; for on their rear and flank, and sometimes in
their very midst, were the robber Gallas plundering all whom
they came across. I spoke of the Gallas in my last. Since
that time they have become even more bold and troublesome,
and not a few have fallen in skirmishes with our troops.
Soon after we had joined the body of fugitives, I heard
screams and cries in front, and riding-in at a gallop with
my friend, we came upon a number of natives in a state of
great excitement, the women crying and wringing their
hands. They pointed to a ravine, and made us understand
that the Gallas were there. Riding up to it, we came upon a
party of eight or ten men with spears and shields driving off a
couple of dozen oxen they had just stolen. Before they could
recover from their surprise we were in their midst, and our
revolvers soon sent them flying up the hill with two or three
of their number wounded. We drove back the cattle, and
were received with acclamations by the unfortunate but miserably
cowardly natives, who could only with stones have kept
their assailants at a distance, had they had the pluck of so
many sheep. A few hundred yards further on we came upon
another party of Gallas actively engaged in looting; and at
the sight of us with our rifles and revolvers in hand, most
of them fled; but we captured two of the robbers, who saw
that throwing themselves upon their faces was the only chance
of escape from being shot. We tied their hands behind them,
and handed them over to our syces, who drove them before
them until the end of the day, when we delivered them over
to Colonel Graves of the 3d Cavalry, who was in command
at Dalanta, and had the satisfaction of seeing them get two
dozen lashes each, well laid on. After this skirmish, seeing
numbers of Gallas hanging about, we constituted ourselves
a sort of rearguard to the native column, and my double-barrelled
rifle soon drove them to a distance, the long range
at which it sent balls into groups waiting for an opportunity
of attack evidently astonishing them greatly, and causing
them to scatter in the greatest haste. I think it a question
whether the Gallas or the Abyssinians are the greatest
cowards. Two or three officers coming up later upon the
same day had skirmishes with them, and three or four of
the Gallas were killed. The natives encamped upon the
plains of Dalanta, their black blanket-tents extending over
a great extent of ground. The next day they crossed the
Djedda, and after mounting to the table-land beyond, were
safe from the attacks of the Gallas, and were able to pursue
their way to Gondar, and the other places to which they
belonged, in quiet.
On the 20th the whole of the troops were at Dalanta, and
a grand parade took place. The troops marched past, and
were then formed into hollow square, and the following order
of the day was read to them:
“Soldiers of the Army of Abyssinia,
The Queen and the people of England intrusted to
you a very arduous and difficult expedition—to release our
countrymen from a long and painful captivity, and to vindicate
the honour of our country, which had been outraged
by Theodore, King of Abyssinia.
I congratulate you, with all my heart, for the noble
way in which you have fulfilled the commands of our Sovereign.
You have crossed many steep and precipitous ranges
of mountains, more than ten thousand feet in altitude, where
your supplies could not keep pace with you. When you
arrived within reach of your enemy, though with scanty food,
and some of you for many hours without food or water, in
four days you have passed the formidable chasm of Bachelo
and defeated the army of Theodore, which poured down upon
you from their lofty fortress in full confidence of victory. A
host of many thousands have laid down their arms at your
feet.
You have captured and destroyed upwards of thirty
pieces of artillery, many of great weight and efficiency, with
ample stores of ammunition. You have stormed the almost-inaccessible
fortress of Magdala, defended by Theodore with
the desperate remnant of his chiefs and followers. After you
forced the entrance, Theodore, who never showed mercy, distrusted
the offers of mercy which had been held out to him,
and died by his own hands. You have released not only the
British captives, but those of other friendly nations. You
have unloosed the chains of more than ninety of the principal
chiefs of the Abyssinians.
Magdala, on which so many victims have been
slaughtered, has been committed to the flames, and remains only a
scorched rock.
Our complete and rapid success is due—first, to the
mercy of God, whose hand I feel assured has been over us in
a just cause. Secondly, to the high spirit with which you have
been inspired. Indian soldiers have forgotten their prejudices
of race and creed to keep pace with their European comrades.
Never has an army entered on a war with more honourable
feelings than yours; this has carried you through many
fatigues and difficulties. You have been only eager for the
moment when you could close with your enemy. The remembrance
of your privations will pass away quickly, but
your gallant exploit will live in history. The Queen and the
people of England will appreciate your services. On my
part, as your commander, I thank you for your devotion to
your duty, and the good discipline you have maintained; not
a single complaint has been made against a soldier of fields
injured or villages wilfully molested, in property or person.
We must not forget what we owe to our comrades who
have been labouring for us in the sultry climate of Zulla and
the Pass of Koomaylo, or in the monotony of the posts which
maintained our communications; each and all would have
given all they possessed to be with us, and they deserve our
gratitude.
I shall watch over your safety to the moment of your
embarkation, and to the end of my life remember with pride
that I have commanded you.
(Signed) R. Napier, Lieut.-general,
Commander-in-chief.
(Signed) M. Dillon, Lieut.-colonel,
Military Secretary.”
The proclamation, if a little grandiose in style, is true to
the letter. The men have endured privation and toil such as
seldom falls to a soldier’s lot, with a good feeling and cheerfulness
which has been literally beyond praise. The only occasions
throughout this expedition upon which I have heard
grumbling has been when the troops have been told by the
quartermaster’s department that they were to march a certain
distance, and when the march turned out to be half as far
again. But this grumbling was not against the distance or
the toil, great as both were; it was against the incapacity
which had inflicted an unnecessary toil upon them. At any
necessary privation, at picket-duty in wet clothes after a hard
day’s march, at hunger and thirst, fatigue-duty, wet and cold,
I never heard them grumble; and I feel assured that, as the
general order says, the people of England will appreciate their
toils and services. In one point at least they may be to some
extent rewarded. Their pay here is exactly the same as they
would have drawn in India; they have no field or other
extra allowance whatever. Had the war taken place in India,
the army would, most unquestionably, be granted a year’s
batta,
as a reward for their suffering and toil. In the present
case the English Government holds the purse-strings,
but I trust that this well-earned extra pay will be granted.
It would form a comparatively small item in the expenses of
the expedition, and the boon would be an act of graceful recognition
on the part of the nation to the men who have borne
its flag so successfully under the most arduous and trying
circumstances.
After the reading of the general order, Sir Robert Napier
handed over the rescued prisoners to the representatives
of the Governments to which they belonged; and the
general feeling of every one was, that we wished these officers
joy of them, for a more unpromising-looking set could
hardly be found anywhere else outside the walls of a prison.
Sir Robert Napier, in handing these prisoners over, thanked
the foreign officers for having accompanied the expedition,
and for having shared in its toils and hardships. The
ceremony over, the last act of the Magdala drama may be
considered to have terminated, and the army on the next
day marched for the coast, the second brigade leading, and
the first following a day in their rear. The interest of the
campaign being now over, I determined to come on at full
speed, instead of travelling at the necessary slow pace of the
army with all its encumbrances of material and baggage. It
is, too, vastly more pleasant to travel alone, the journeys are
performed in two-thirds of the time, and without the dust,
noise, and endless delays which take place in the baggage-train.
At the end of the journey the change is still more advantageous:
one selects the site for one’s tent near the little
commissariat stations, but far enough off to be quiet; and here,
free from the neighing and fighting of horses and mules, the
challenge of the sentries, the chattering of the native troops,
who frequently talk until past midnight, and the incessant
noise of coughing and groaning, and other unpleasant noises
in which a Hindoo delights when he is not quite well, we pass
the night in tranquillity. The hyenas and jackals are, it is
true, a little troublesome, and howl and cry incessantly about
the canvas of our tent; but the noise of a hyena is as music
compared to the coughing and groaning of a sick Hindoo; and
so we do not grumble. We have a party of four, making,
with our ten servants, syces, and mule-drivers, a pretty strong
party; no undesirable thing, as the country is extremely
disturbed all the way down. Convoys are constantly attacked,
and the muleteers murdered; indeed, scarce a day passes
without an outrage of this kind. It is, perhaps, worst between
Lât and Atzala; but beyond Antalo, and down even in
the Sooro Pass, murders are almost daily events. The killing
is not all on one side, for numbers of the natives have been
shot by the guards of the convoys which they have attacked.
The evil increases every day, and the Commander-in-chief
has just issued a proclamation to the natives, which is to be
translated into Amharic and circulated through the country,
warning the people that the scouts have orders to fire upon
any armed party they may meet, who do not, upon being
called upon to do so, at once retire and leave the path clear.
The fact is, that, except at this point, we have not enough
troops in the country to furnish guards of sufficient strength
to protect the convoys. A great many very wise people have
talked about our force being too large. At the present moment
it is actually insufficient for our needs, insufficient to
protect our convoys even against the comparatively few robbers
and brigands who now infest the line. A convoy of a
thousand animals extends over a very long tract of country;
three or four miles at the least. What can a dozen or so
guards do to protect it? An instance occurred to-day within
three miles of this place. A convoy of a thousand camels
were coming along; the guards were scattered over its
length; and a man in the middle of the convoy was murdered
by three or four Abyssinians, whom the soldiers, who had
gone on, had noticed sitting quietly on some rocks at a few
yards from the line of march. The soldiers behind heard a
cry, and rode up, only in time to find the muleteer lying
dead, and his murderers escaped. When the robbers are in
force, and attempt to plunder openly, they are invariably
beaten.
The other day Lieutenant Holt was in command of a train
with treasure for Ashangi, having a guard of ten Sepoys.
He was attacked by a band of fifty or sixty men, who came
up twice to the assault, but were driven off, leaving three of
their number dead upon the ground. These cases are not
exceptional; they are of daily occurrence, and are rapidly
upon the increase. It is greatly to be regretted; but it was
to be foreseen from the course of conduct pursued in the first
instance towards men caught robbing in the Sooro Pass. I
predicted at the time of my first visit to Senafe, early in
December last, what must be the inevitable result of the
course pursued to the men caught pillaging. They were kept
in the guard-house for a day or two, fed better than they had
ever before been in their lives, and then dismissed to steal
again, and to encourage their companions in stealing, believing
that we were too weak and too pusillanimous to dare
to punish them. And so it has been ever since. In the eyes
of our political officers a native could do no harm. Any
punishment which has been inflicted upon them has been
given by regimental officers, or officers of the transport-train,
who have caught them robbing. And even this moderate
quota of justice was rendered at the peril of the judges.
Lieutenant Story, 26th regiment, a most energetic officer of
the transport-train—to give one example out of a score—found
that at one of the stations the natives who were anxious to
come in to sell grass and grain were driven away by two
chiefs, who openly beat and ill-treated those who persisted in
endeavouring to sell to us. The result was, that the natives
kept away, and only a few ventured in at night to sell their
stores. Lieutenant Story found that his mules were starving,
and very properly caught the two chiefs, and gave them
half-a-dozen each. The chiefs reported the case; the mild
politicals
as usual had their way; and Lieutenant Story
was summarily removed from the transport-train.
I mentioned in a former letter the case of the mule-driver
who wrested the musket from a man who was attempting to
rob the mules, and shot him with his own weapon, and who
was rewarded for his gallantry by having a dozen lashes. I
could fill a column with similar instances. Had we had the
good fortune to have had a man of decision and energy as
our political officer instead of Colonel Merewether, all this
would have been avoided. The first man caught with arms
in his hands attacking and plundering our convoys should
have been tried and shot; it is what he would have received
at the hands of the native chiefs; and it would have put a
stop to the brigandage. Instead of which, the policy—if such
pottering can be termed policy—has been to encourage them,
by every means in our power, to plunder our convoys and
murder our drivers and men. A stern policy with savages
is, in the end, infinitely the more merciful one. A couple of
lives at first would have saved fifty, which have already on
both sides been sacrificed, and a hundred more, which will
be probably lost before we are out of the country. Sir R.
Napier, now that he has taken the reins into his own hands,
is fully alive to the error that has been committed, and to
the absolute necessity of showing no more leniency to the
robber-bands which begin to swarm around us. It is most
unfortunate that the early stages of our intercourse with the
natives had not been intrusted to a man of firmness and
sound sense. With the repeated caution of the officers at
the various stations in our ears, and with the accounts we
received at almost every halting-place of some attack and
murder in the neighbourhood within a day or two of our
arrival, it may be imagined that we took every precaution.
Our servants were all armed with spears, our mules were
kept in close file, and two of us rode in front, two in the
rear of our party, with our rifles cocked, and our revolvers
ready to hand. As we anticipated, we were not attacked;
for, as a general rule, the cowardly robbers, however numerous,
will not attack when they see a prospect of a stout
resistance. Our precautions were not, however, in vain; for
we knew that at least in one case we should have been attacked
had we not been so palpably upon our guard. On
the brow of the hill above Atzala we passed without seeing a
single native; but looking back after we had gone three or
four hundred yards, we saw a party of fifty or sixty men
armed with spears and shields, get up from among some
bushes and rocks by the roadside and make off. There is no
doubt that, had we not been prepared, we should have been
attacked, and probably murdered. For the remainder of our
journey there is little danger. The looting, indeed, continues
all down the line; but the country is open and bare, and the
natives would never dream of attacking in the open.
I have very great regret in announcing the death from
dysentery of Lieutenant Morgan, of the Royal Engineers.
He died at the front, and the news of the sad event probably
reached England by the last mail; but I did not hear
of it at Antalo until after I had despatched my last letter.
He was at the head of the signalling-department, and was
one of the most energetic and unwearied of officers. I
never, indeed, met a man more devoted to his work; and
had he lived, he would have become most distinguished in
his profession. Sir Robert Napier, who thoroughly appreciated
his efforts, has issued the following general order:
The Commander-in-chief has received with great regret
the report of the death of Lieutenant Morgan, R.E., in
charge of the signallers of the 10th Company, R.E. Sir
Robert Napier had constant opportunities of observing the
unflagging zeal and energy of this young officer, and the
cheerful alacrity with which he embraced every opportunity
to render his special work useful to the forces. Lieutenant
Morgan set a bright example to those under his command;
and by his premature loss, owing to prolonged exposure and
fatigue, her Majesty’s service and the corps of Royal Engineers
are deprived of a most promising officer.
Not often does it fall to the lot of a subaltern to win such
high and well-merited praise from his commander-in-chief;
but poor Morgan was one in a thousand. His death unquestionably
was the result of his hard work and exposure. He
was one of those to whom his duty, however severe, was a
pleasure. Although he could have ridden, had he chosen
to do so, he marched at the head of his little body of men,
lightening their labours by some cheerful remark; and when
arrived at camp, and when other men’s work was over, he
would perhaps be sent off to arrange for signalling orders
to the brigade in the rear, a duty which would occupy the
entire night. He would be off with a cheerful alacrity which
I never saw ruffled. He was quiet and unaffected in manner,
and was one of those men who are most liked by those who
best know them. It is with sincere regret that I write this
brief notice of his untimely death.
Respecting the country, I have little to tell that is not
already known to English readers. After the tremendous
gorges of the Djedda and Bachelo, which are now ascertained
to be 3900 feet in depth, the hills upon this side of the
Tacazze, which had appeared so formidable when we before
crossed them, are mere trifles. The roads, too, were much
better than when we went up, the second brigade and Sappers
and Miners having done a good deal of work upon them
to render them practicable for elephants. The rain which
has fallen lately has done a good deal to brighten-up the
country; not upon the bare hill-sides—there all is brown
and burnt-up as before—but in the bottom of the valleys and
upon the hill-sides, where streamlets have poured down
during the rains, the bright green of the young grass affords
a pleasant relief to the eye. The crops, too, look bright and
well; and it is a curious circumstance, that here there appears
to be no fixed time for harvest. It is no unusual thing
to see three adjoining patches of cultivated land—the one
having barley in full ear, the second having the crop only
a few inches above the ground, and the third undergoing the
operation of the plough.
The army is now about seven days in my rear, as I
travel very much faster than they do. Every available mule
is being sent up to meet them, to carry down stores and
baggage; and there is rum and all other comforts for them
at the principal stations upon their way. The native carriage
is at work bringing down the spare supplies; and if
there are but sufficient of them employed, the stores will soon
cease to trouble us; for the natives are such arrant thieves,
that between this and Atzala, only two days’ march, bags
of rice and flour which started weighing 75 lb. arrive weighing
only 40 lb., 30 lb., and sometimes only 25 lb. The word
Habesh, which is their own general name for the people
of Abyssinia, means a mixture; and I can hardly imagine a
worse mixture than it is, for they appear to have inherited
all the vices and none of the virtues of the numerous races
of whom they are composed.
Beyond this I need write no more; but I cannot close
my journal of the Abyssinian expedition without expressing
my gratitude for the very great and uniform kindness with
which I have been treated by the Commander-in-chief, and
by the greater portion of his staff. I would particularly
mention Colonel Dillon, the Military Secretary; one of the
most able and certainly the most popular officer upon the
staff, and whose kindness and attention to us has been unbounded.
He has been always ready to afford us any information
in his power, and to assist us in all those little
difficulties with which a civilian travelling with an army is
unavoidably beset.
The Abyssinian expedition may now be said to be over,
and has been a more perfect and extraordinary success than
the most sanguine could have predicted. It would, in the
face of the terrible forebodings which were launched when
it was first set about, have seemed an almost impossibility
that we could have journeyed here, defeated and almost
annihilated Theodore’s army, obtained the whole of the
prisoners, stormed Magdala—incomparably the strongest
fortress in the world—and killed Theodore, and returned before
the rains, with the loss of only one man dead from his
wounds, and two or three from sickness; a loss infinitely
less than would have taken place in the ordinary course of
nature among so large a body of men. And yet this apparent
impossibility has been, by the special providence of God,
achieved; for that He has specially blessed our efforts, it
would be the height of scepticism to doubt. We have passed
through fatigues and hardships which one would have thought
must have told upon the strongest constitution. We have
had wet day after day, with bitterly cold winds, and no
change even of underclothing for a month; we have had no
tobacco or stimulants to enable the system to resist this wet
and cold; and yet the hospitals are empty, and the health of
the troops perfect. We have defeated a large and hitherto
invincible army, and taken the strongest fortress in the
world, with the loss of one man. We have accomplished a
march through a country of fabulous difficulties, destitute of
roads and almost destitute of food, and with our difficulties
of transport vastly aggravated by the untrustworthy reports
of those sent on before, and by the consequent breakdown of
our baggage-train, from disease, thirst, and overwork; and
yet we shall leave the country before the rains.
Humanly, too much credit can scarcely be given to Sir
Robert Napier. He has had to overcome innumerable difficulties,
which I have from time to time alluded to; but he
has met them all admirably. As is often the case with successful
commanders, he is immensely popular. The extreme
kindness and thoughtfulness of his manner to all make him
greatly beloved, and I believe that the men would have done
anything for him.
Upon the whole, England may well be proud of the
campaign,—proud of her General, and of the gallant and
hardy army, whose endurance and labour carried it out
successfully. It has not numerically been a great campaign;
but by our success under innumerable difficulties, England
has gained a prestige which, putting aside the proper objects
of the campaign, is cheaply attained at the cost, and which
is the more gratifying inasmuch as that England, although
she has always risen under difficulties, and has come triumphantly
out of great wars, has yet notoriously failed in
her little wars.
THE END.
LONDON:
ROBSON AND SON, GREAT NORTHERN PRINTING WORKS,
PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.