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.”