The March to Magdala

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.