The March to Magdala

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.