Henty George Alfred
The March to Magdala
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.
