1873–4--AT THE HEAD OF THE ROAD IN ASHANTI
A gloomy forest--Two brave Company leaders--Major Home--Wood’s
Regiment become carriers--Major Butler invades Ashanti
with 20 Native Police--Amoaful--I am wounded--A forced
march--Ordasu--Arthur Eyre killed--Sent down with wounded--The
disobedient Bonnys--Chiefs Essevie and Andoo.
The day after we occupied Sutah, which the Ashantis had quitted the
previous morning, I went out with 6 European officers and 300 men to
advance to Faisowah, and left No. 1 Company (the Fantis) at Sutah, to
bring up our baggage as soon as some carriers were obtained from the
Fanti camps in the neighbourhood. The enemy’s Rear guard of 4000 men
under Amanquatsia had been reinforced two days earlier by 5000 (slaves)
fresh troops from Coomassie, and the Commander had orders to retake the
offensive.
The country in which we were operating was a dense forest of gigantic
trees, many 150 feet high, laced together with creepers supporting
foliage so thick as to shut out the sun, which we never saw except in
the villages; indeed, the light was so dim that I could not read my
English letters until we came to a clearing, and the dreary monotony of
endless green was oppressive beyond description. There were scarcely
any birds or animal life except small deer the size of a terrier, and
rats and venomous insects; few flowers, except round the villages,
where the undergrowth was not so thick as near the Coast. On the other
hand, it was close to the villages that most of the fighting, such as
it was, occurred, where the system of African cultivation offered good
cover to our enemies. They clear the ground by fire, then sow, in the
ashes of the trees, and when the soil is exhausted abandon the spot,
and build another village. This is easy, as four men can make a hut,
the walls formed of palm leaves, within an hour. On the sites of these
deserted villages there rose lofty vegetation, impenetrable except to
naked savages crawling on their hands and knees.
Our track ran almost due north, passing occasionally through swampy
ground, there being water up to our knees in one place for over 900
yards.
At 2 p.m. the Advanced guard under Captain Furse, 42nd Highlanders, who
was acting as Second in Command of Wood’s Regiment, was fired on half
a mile south of Faisoo, but drove the Ashanti Rear guard back across
the river, and from the open ground of Faisowah. He took a prisoner,
who, seeing our numbers, advised us not to go on, stating that as it
was Adai--that is, the Ashanti Sunday--they would not retire. Furze
under these circumstances asked for orders. Now, I had been ordered to
“harass the enemy, hang on his rear, and attack him without ceasing,”
so I gave the order “Advance.” When we came under heavy fire in the
clearing of Faisowah, I extended Woodgate’s Kossoos to the east of the
track, and Richmond on the west side with the Elmina company, in which
there were 25 Haussa Ashanti slaves, whom we had taken in previous
reconnaissances. The Haussas I extended in line behind, intending to
pass through them if I were obliged to retire. Sergeant Silver and two
white Marine Artillerymen were with me, using a rocket tube, and their
cool, courageous bearing was an object lesson to the Blacks who could
see them.
There was a heavy expenditure of ammunition for half an hour, when,
as I had no reserve of it, and the Ashantis were extending round both
flanks, I said to Arthur Eyre, the Adjutant, “Now, neither of the men
in front of us will come away as soon as they are told, but Woodgate
will be the slower, so go to him first, and order him to retire at
once; and then come back to me, and you shall go to Richmond.” This he
did; and my forecast was correct, for after I had got Richmond and his
Elminos safely back through the extended Haussa line, I had to wait
for Woodgate. For a mile our retreat was carried out in perfect order,
but just south of Faisoo some carriers came up with my Fanti company,
which I had left to bring up the baggage, and who, though not actually
under fire, fled panic-stricken. They threw their loads down on the
ground, unsteadying the greater part of the Kossoo company, and all the
Haussas, who rushed along the narrow path on a frontage of 11 men--a
path which only accommodated two men abreast in the Advance. The Elmina
company only kept its ranks; the officers of other companies, Gordon,
Richmond, Woodgate, and Lieutenant Pollard, R.N., by holding a few men
together, kept back the Ashantis, who followed us up 4 miles.
Our casualties were slight--one killed and eight wounded, while four
men who fled into the Bush, reappeared, one a month later. The bush
on either side was so thick that the Ashantis could only crawl slowly
through it, and did not dare come down the path, as they were shot
by the European officers. I feared at one time that Sergeant Silver,
Marine Artillery, would be trampled upon till he was insensible, and
drew my revolver to keep back the crowd from him. I was just about
to fire, when a black man seeing my face knocked down the nearest
Haussa who was pressing on Silver, and kept back the fugitives until
the Sergeant recovered his breath. I halted at nightfall, when
we had retreated 7 miles, intending to stand; but the Ashantis,
imagining I had been reinforced, became panic-stricken, and fled
northwards--recrossing the Prah three days later.
Sir Garnet reported: “This attack caused the whole of the Ashanti Army
to retreat in the utmost haste and confusion, leaving their dead and
dying everywhere along the path.”
The effect on the European officers of their exertions on the 27th was
marked. Next morning I was the only effective officer, and spent the
day in instructing three companies in aiming Drill. I had been on my
back on the 16th, after two very long marches extending over twelve
hours, although the progress made was comparatively small; but possibly
on this occasion the excitement of the fight kept me up, and I did not
suffer at all. Lieutenant Richmond was never again effective during
the Expedition, and the health of his predecessor Gordon was seriously
broken; but he had been for months on the Coast prior to Sir Garnet’s
arrival. Lieutenant Woodgate struggled on, but some days afterwards
I found him lying insensible on the track; and some conception of
our duties may be formed when I state he had £132 on him, mostly in
silver, for we were all paying carriers as they put down their loads.
Arthur Eyre, also, whose irrepressible energy always led him to overtax
his strength, had to go on board ship sick, and came back to me only
when we reached Prahsu.
The energy of the Commanding Royal Engineer of the Expedition, Major
Home, was inexhaustible. I was warned by our Surgeon-Major that my
friend, who was living with me, must break down unless he tried his
system less. At the doctor’s suggestion, I issued a circular Memorandum
that “officers under medical treatment were not to go out in the sun
without the doctor’s sanction.” Home resented this order, and told me
that he did not intend to obey it. A few hours after, on returning from
visiting parties cutting a path towards the Ashantis, he intimated his
intention of going southwards, and, instigated by the doctor, I begged
him to lie down instead. He absolutely refused to do so, and told his
hammock-bearers--for he was being carried--to proceed. I shouted to the
Rear guard, composed of men from the Bonny River, to stand to their
Arms, and then explained to Home that he would suffer the indignity
of being stopped and brought back by the little black men, unless he
obeyed my order. He did so, and lying down on my bed, desired me to get
a messenger to go back to Cape Coast Castle with a letter, reporting me
to Sir Garnet. This I did; and he, being too weak to write the letter,
dictated it to me, and I steadied his hand while he signed it, for he
was in a high state of fever. I wrote on the outside, “The poor fellow
is off his head,” and agreeably to my promise sent the messenger off
at once. We duly received an official answer to his question whether
he was to be considered as under the orders of anyone but Sir Garnet
Wolseley. It was to the effect that as Commanding Royal Engineer he
received his orders from the Leader of the Expedition, but as an
officer he was under the Senior in whose camp he might be on duty.
The Ashantis having recrossed the Prah, I asked that I should have a
fortnight in which to teach my men to shoot. They, under Major Home’s
directions, had built Barracks for Europeans at every halting-place up
to Prahsu, and I suggested that the work at the Head of the road should
be taken by Major Baker Russell, whose Regiment had been at Abrakampa,
or some other clearing, for six weeks; but on the day the order was
issued the whole of the carriers deserted, and the General was obliged
to order Russell’s and Wood’s Regiments, as well as the men of the 2nd
West India Regiment, to carry loads for a fortnight, for without this
help the rations for the Europeans could not have been got up to the
Front.
I spent Christmas Day at Prahsu, helping Major Home to build a trestle
bridge across the river. The King of Coomassie sent down ambassadors to
arrange terms of peace. They were somewhat alarmed on first crossing
the river, but became reassured when in the camp of Wood’s Regiment,
where they were kindly treated. Unfortunately, in the afternoon they
were shown the action of a Gatling gun, and the sight of the bullets
playing on the water in a reach of the river (which is broad at Prahsu)
so alarmed one of them, that, by a complicated arrangement of a
creeper fastened to his toe and to the trigger of a long blunderbuss,
he blew off his head that night. We duly held an inquiry, much to the
astonishment of the most important ambassador, who, after listening to
the evidence, showed some impatience at our endeavouring to record the
facts accurately, and observed, “The man being a coward was afraid to
live, that’s all.”
I was ordered to take the body over the river, that the man might be
buried in Ashanti, and the Bonnys being clever at all basket-work, in
a very short time made a perfect Hayden’s coffin.[123] When we were
standing round the grave, I was astonished by two of the Ashantis
throwing earth on the coffin, in precisely the same reverential way
we see at our Burial services, and on our return to camp asked the
ambassador what was the meaning of it. He said briefly, “For luck,”
adding a widow always did it at her husband’s funeral, hoping that
she would thus get another spouse by whom she would have children.
Imagining that the custom must have been adopted from seeing our
missionaries bury their dead, I asked if the practice had originated
since white men came to the country, but he replied that it had been in
use hundreds of years earlier.
Before we advanced from the Prah, I received the following original
letter from Major W. Butler:[124]--
“AKIM SWAIDROO, _January 2nd, 1874_.
“MY DEAR COLONEL,--The King of Accassi’s Queen has been carried off
by the Haussas, and her chastity is in danger. Express messengers
have arrived to announce her detention at Prahsu when tending
plantains. Please do what you can to save Her Majesty’s honour--or
the plantains--for I cannot make out which is rated at the highest
figure by the King. I am _en route_ to Iribee.--Yours in haste,
“W. BUTLER.”
The messenger brought a slip of paper also, with the significant words,
“Please send me some quinine.” I had to send Her Majesty back under
escort, as she preferred the society of a Haussa to that of the King.
Major Butler had expended much energy, and all the ready eloquence
for which he is distinguished, in endeavouring to induce the Kings
to the east of the Cape Coast Castle-Prahsu road, to march with him
across the Prah. His reports were a series of buoyant hopes due to the
man’s indomitable nature, alternating with despair at the successive
disappointments which he had to undergo. We heard that he finally
crossed the Prah with 3 Fanti policemen, but he was followed a few days
later by 400 Akims, who could not be persuaded even by my courageous
and persuasive friend to incur any risk from the enemy’s bullets.
On the morning of the 30th January, a few minutes after we reached the
clearing south of Egginassie, where Wood’s Regiment was to bivouac
as Advanced guard, Home asked me for a Covering party for the Fanti
road-cutters. I walked round and looked at the faces of my seven
officers, who were asleep; all had fever. I thought Woodgate looked
the brightest, so I awoke him, though he had been on Piquet all night.
“Covering party? Yes, sir; I’ll start at once.” “Have some breakfast
first.” “Oh no; I’ve got some biscuit, and there’s plenty of water
about the track.” That evening Russell’s and Wood’s Regiments had
cut a pathway that would take three men abreast, up to the outpost
of the Ashanti Army, which was holding the clearing, and village of
Egginassie, the southern end of Amoaful, which gave the name to the
fight of the next day.
The General’s plan was to advance, with one European battalion, by the
pathway which ran from south to north, while a column under Colonel
McLeod, 42nd Highlanders, consisting of 100 Sailors and Marines,
and Russell’s Regiment, with two guns and rockets, cut a path in a
north-westerly direction. A similar column under my command was to cut
a path to the north-east.
The brunt of the fighting was borne by the 42nd under Major Cluny
Macpherson, which advanced with great determination, pressing back and
breaking through the front line of the Ashantis. As the Bush was very
dense, this fact was not known to the Ashantis on the east and west,
and they continued to work round our flanks, penetrating between them
and the 42nd Highlanders on both flanks.
The right column before I was wounded had cut 200 yards of track, the
procedure being as follows: two workmen each wielding two cutlasses,
slashed at the Bush, being protected on either side by Sailors or
Marines. We had been working an hour or two, when besides slugs
which rattled round us, fired generally by Ashantis lying prone on
the ground, there came several bullets over our heads, fired rather
behind us, where I was superintending the advance. I called to the men
behind me to go into the Bush and see who was firing, and shouted,
“42nd, don’t fire this way.” At first nobody moved, and with an angry
exclamation I ran back, and was parting the thick bush with my hands,
when Arthur Eyre, pulling me by the skirt of my Norfolk jacket,
protested, “It is really not your place,” and pushed in before me.
There was immediately an explosion of a heavy Dane gun, and when the
smoke had cleared away, I saw Eyre was unhurt, and he exclaimed, “There
are no 42nd men there; the fellow who fired at us is black, and quite
naked.” Two or three volleys cleared that part of the Bush, but between
nine and ten o’clock, as I turned round to speak to a Staff officer who
was bringing me a message from the General, an Ashanti lying close to
me shot the head of a nail into my chest immediately over the region
of the heart. Sticks were flying freely all the morning, and when I
recovered from the stunning effect of the blow, I asked Arthur Eyre,
who was bending over me, “Who hit me on the head?” “No one hit you,
sir.” “Yes, somebody did, and knocked me down.” “No, I’m afraid you
are wounded.” “Nonsense! It is only my head is buzzing, I think from a
blow.” He pointed to my shirt, through which trickled some blood, and
said, “No, you have been wounded there.” He helped me up, and said,
“Let me carry you back,” but asserting I was perfectly able to walk
alone, I asked him to stop and ensure the advance was continued. I
walked unconsciously in a circle round and round the clearing we had
made, and so had to submit to being supported back to Egginassie, where
the ammunition-carriers and hospital stretcher-bearers had been placed.
As most of the enemy were firing slugs, my body could only have been
seriously hurt in the spot in which the slug struck; for Woodgate had
stuffed my pockets with the War Office note-books, which he asked me
to carry, and when I protested, said, “Well, as you are sure to be in
front, I should like to save your chest.”
My friend the Surgeon-Major, who had been taken away from Wood’s
Regiment a fortnight previously, to serve on Headquarters Staff, came
to see me, and put a probe into the hole through which the head of the
nail had passed. The first doctor who examined me had expressed an
unfavourable opinion, based on his diagnosis of the very weak action
of the heart. Noticing my friend’s face was unusually grave, I said,
“I believe you know I am not afraid to die, so tell me frankly what
my chances are.” He replied, “There is some foreign substance just
over your heart; I cannot feel it with the probe, and do not like
to try any farther, but as you are alive now, I can see no reason
why you shouldn’t live;” and this satisfied me I was not to die that
day. It, however, was not the opinion of the other Medical officers,
and the Principal Medical officer of the Expedition, afterwards Sir
William Mackinnon, Director-General of the Army Medical Department, a
friend of mine, went to Sir Garnet, who was on the west side of the
clearing, to ask him to say good-bye to me before I was carried back
to a clearing at Quarman, three-quarters of a mile farther south,
where it was intended to establish a hospital. Sir Garnet Wolseley
has an optimistic temperament, which has carried him onward through
his remarkable career, and he absolutely declined to say “good-bye”
to me, alleging that he would see me again at the Head of the road
within a week, as indeed he did; but Mackinnon said, “No, sir, you
never yet saw a man live with a shot in his pericardium.”[125] The
stretcher-bearers put me down in the clearing, and a man of the Army
Hospital Corps dosed me with Brand’s Essence of Beef, and brandy,
until I somewhat petulantly asked him to leave me alone, and attend to
somebody who required assistance more. “But you are very bad, sir,” he
said. Ten minutes later the Ashantis attacked the clearing. My Sierra
Leone servant, putting my rifle between my feet, and revolver on the
stretcher, sat down tranquilly alongside with his Snider. However,
the measures for defence taken first by Captain C. Burnett,[126] and
somewhat later by Colonel Colley[127] who managed to be present at
every fight or skirmish from the time of his landing, repulsed the
attack, which was never serious. Next day there was a skirmish, after
which the Sailors paid me the compliment of asking Commodore W. N. W.
Hewett,[128] my friend of the Crimea, to get them placed under my
command, as they were not happy under a Military officer who did not
understand them.
The Force moved slowly on, and on the evening of the 3rd of February
was only 16 miles north of Amoaful. That morning I received a note from
Arthur Eyre, lamenting my absence, both for my sake and for that of his
comrades, who had worked so hard since early in October. Eyre wrote
that Sir Garnet and his Staff had forgotten the promise made after
our very hard work, that, come what might, Wood’s Regiment should be
represented when the troops entered Coomassie. Eyre ended his letter,
“Our last company has now been left to garrison a post, and we shall
never see Coomassie till it falls.” After reading the pathetic appeal
twice over, I sent for the doctor, and in order not to give him any
chance, assured him that I was perfectly well. This was not absolutely
accurate, for I had been lying on my back since noon on the 31st; but
I showed him Eyre’s letter, and in accordance with my assurances he
sympathetically replied that I might try and overtake the General.
I started half an hour afterwards, and sent a runner to the Chief
Staff officer, Colonel W. G. Greaves,[129] with a message that I was
coming up, and intended to carry forward the most advanced company
in accordance with the General’s promise. I was detained for 5 hours
by the Commandant of a post, who declined to allow me to take on
the company until a strong patrol he had sent out returned; but
eventually moving at a quarter to six, we marched all night, Furze,
Woodgate, and Arthur Eyre. Rain fell in torrents, and it seemed that
every step we took forward on the greasy path brought us at least
half a pace backwards, but finally at four o’clock we came up with
the Headquarters. Colonel T. D. Baker[130] warmly congratulated me on
my arrival, saying, “The Chief is asleep, but he told me to give you
his love, and say he is delighted you have come up, and wishes you
to take the advanced section of the Advanced guard, when we move at
daylight.” I took over the duty from my friend Major Baker Russell, who
grumbled good-humouredly at my luck in getting up in time to replace
him in the forefront of the fight. He had enough, however, for we were
together all the morning. He observed, “As you are here, I must tell
you that there is an Ashanti about 60 yards in front of us with a heavy
blunderbuss; I hope you won’t let him put its contents into you.” We
had been ordered to do everything we could to save the lives of the
Ashantis, and I took over from Baker Russell a wretched interpreter,
himself an Ashanti, whose duty it was to advance with me, calling out
in the vernacular, “It is peace, it is peace. Don’t fire.” This man
knew his countryman’s position behind the tree, and showed the greatest
disinclination to accompany me when, about six o’clock, we advanced;
but the ambushed Ashanti fired over our heads.
We were three-quarters of a mile from Ordasu, a village on the river
Ordah, which the Ashantis had anticipated holding; for when eventually
we drove them out of it, their food was still boiling in the cooking
vessels. I spent four hours trying to get the Bonny men to advance.
They had never been taught to fire, and their idea was to lie prone on
the ground, and, elevating the muzzle of the Snider in the air, fire it
as quickly as possible. My friend Essevie, who was there, with a few of
the Elmina company, showed the courage which he had always displayed,
and kicked and buffeted all black men, including his sons, with the
greatest impartiality, to drive them on; but we made little progress.
I think it was a mistake to allow the Blacks to head the advance. They
had built barracks, they had made bedsteads, they had taken every
outpost, no European soldier being disturbed at night, and we should
have got on faster if Europeans had been placed at once at the Head of
the track. There were few casualties--in fact, nearly all were confined
to the weak company of Wood’s Regiment, which lost 1 officer and 3 men
killed and 10 wounded, while the European Regiment supporting us with a
strength of 450 men had only 17 men wounded, most of them slightly.
The density of the Bush may be realised by this fact: while I was
teaching a Bonny man to fire, an Ashanti in the Bush discharged his
gun so close to the Bonny man’s head that the slugs did not spread,
and the force of the charge threw the man’s body from west to east
across the path. While Baker Russell and I were talking, he standing
up with the complete indifference to danger he always apparently felt,
I ordered Arthur Eyre to kneel down, like the other Europeans, but he
had scarcely done so when he was shot through the body, and from the
look in his face I saw that his last hours had come. He held up his
hand for me to remove his rings, saying, “Good-bye; please give them
to my mother.” The bullet had pierced the bladder, and he suffered
so terribly, in spite of the doctor giving him all the morphia that
his system would accept, that I felt relieved when he[131] died two
hours afterwards. He had accompanied me, except when in Hospital, in
every patrol and skirmish I undertook, and whenever he foresaw danger
invented some excuse to get between me and the enemy. He had inherited
his father’s impulsive temperament and all his determined courage, and
was moreover a delightful companion.
* * * * *
When we got into the clearing at Ordasu we halted for an hour, and
the 42nd Highlanders coming up with heads erect and shoulders back,
moved on into the Bush on either side of the track. Colonel McLeod was
old-fashioned in his ideas. I never saw him willingly deploy to the
right, or outwards. When at Aldershot he was accustomed to deploy to
the left, and would move his battalion from the left up to the right
to deploy back again; but there was certainly no more stoical man in
the Army when bullets were flying. When he had extended a company, half
on each side of the track, he called for the Pipe-Major, and saying,
“Follow me,” walked down the path, followed by another company. The
resistance soon died away, and the Column moved on in single file
towards Coomassie.
Just before it started, Major T. D. Baker[132] came to me and said,
“The Chief says you are to take over the Rear guard.” A wounded Marine
had just been decapitated by Ashantis, who had crossed the path
immediately behind the Headquarters Staff. I protested that I had been
walking since 10 a.m. on the 3rd, and to put me on Rear guard would
result in my not reaching Coomassie till after dark. I mentioned the
name of an officer senior to me for the duty, but Baker said, “No, I
suggested that, but Sir Garnet wishes you to do it.” Shortly after we
left the clearing we came on the body of a Chief, who had been shot by
the 42nd Highlanders, while near him were three slaves who had been
decapitated by one of the Chiefs relations, for the Ashantis have a
theory that when a great man dies he should be accompanied into the
next world by slaves as body-servants.
[Illustration: COMASSIE, 4TH FEBRUARY, 1874
GENERAL SIR GARNET WOLSELEY, TO SECRETARY OF STATE FOR WAR. “IT IS WITH
THE GREATEST REGRET I HAVE TO REPORT THE DEATH OF LIEUTENANT EYRE, 90TH
LIGHT INFANTRY, WHO WAS MORTALLY WOUNDED IN ACTION. I CANNOT REFRAIN
FROM STATING WHAT A GREAT LOSS THE ARMY HAS EXPERIENCED IN THE DEATH OF
THIS GALLANT OFFICER”]
At the southern entrance of Coomassie Lieutenant Maurice,[133] Sir
Garnet’s secretary, met me at 9 p.m., and said, “The Chief says you
are to take up a line of outposts covering the town.” As the night was
pitchy dark, I observed, “Where is the Chief, and where is the enemy
supposed to be, and where am I to go?” Maurice replied, “I asked
him that, and he observed, ‘Evelyn Wood is sure to know, leave it to
him.’” I went away a few hundred yards from where I understood the
Headquarters Staff was lying, and, halting close to some huts, sent an
Ashanti for clean water; for the stream we had just crossed had been
polluted by the bodies of human sacrifices. I had barely fallen asleep
when a Staff officer came to me and told me to fall in my men, and
proceed to the Palace, which was on fire. I went at once, but the fire
was nearly out when we arrived, and I slept till daylight, when I was
again summoned, and ordered down to the Coast, with a convoy of sick
and wounded.
I left Coomassie on the morning of the 5th February, with the remnants
of Russell’s and Wood’s Regiments, and a company of the Rifle Brigade,
escorting some 70 wounded and sick Europeans, nearly all the former
belonging to the 42nd Highlanders.
Although no serious attack was probable, my charge occasioned me some
anxiety. All the wounded who were unable to march were in cots slung on
long bamboo poles, carried by eight men, and so in single file, which
was the only arrangement of which the path admitted, our line of march
extended over nearly two miles.
When Sir Garnet went forward to the Ordah River, the troops accepted
cheerfully four days’ rations for six, and thus it came about that on
the evening we arrived at Ordasu, where Arthur Eyre was buried, except
a small bit of biscuit, the wounded had no rations of any kind. Just as
we had lifted the cots of the wounded off the ground and placed them on
tripods of bamboos, an impending storm broke, the heavens opening, rain
fell as it does only in the tropics, and within ten minutes there were
10 inches of water on the ground.
I had ½ lb. of tea and some sugar, which my servant carried in a
haversack, and, assisted by Furse of the 42nd, after infinite trouble,
I made a fire over a projecting root of a big Banyan tree. In turn we
held an umbrella to shelter our fire from the rain, and finally had
the satisfaction of raising the water to boiling-point, and into it I
put all my tea and sugar. When we had handed round the last pannikin,
I said I would have given a sovereign for a tin of tea, and Furse
remarked, “I would have gladly given two.” Next day we moved onwards,
and met a convoy of Supplies, so there was no further scarcity. I
received orders to halt, send the convoy on with the Rifle Brigade, and
remain behind, following the Europeans as Rear guard.
The strength of the white soldiers was husbanded, and wisely so, in
every respect. They were never put on outposts. Up to the Prah--74
miles, just half-way to Coomassie--they slept in large bamboo huts
which accommodated 50 men, provided with comfortable beds, filtered
water, washing-places, latrines, cooking-places, sentry boxes,
commissariat stores. A Hospital and Surgical ward was erected every 8
or 10 miles. Everything, in fact, was so arranged that the Europeans
had nothing to do except cook their food and lie down on their arrival
in camp. All these arrangements were carried out by Major Home, to whom
Sir Garnet expressed his warmest thanks. They were deserved. During
the Expedition, Home and his officers had cut a fairly smooth track,
about 8 feet wide. He bridged 237 streams, laid down corduroy over
innumerable swamps, some of which required three layers of fascines,
and in one place alone, between Sutah and Faisowah, stretched over
800 yards. When the Ashantis in their retirement approached the main
path, near Mansu, Home was there with 43 Natives, and had just built
a fort. His men--Fantis--were untrained, and he had only 40 rounds of
ammunition. The General ordered him to fall back towards the Coast, but
Home held his fort, and the enemy, not being able to pass him, moved
farther northwards in the Bush before they regained the track.
When we were coming down country, some of the worst traits of the
Bonny men became evident. They absolutely refused to carry their own
sick and wounded, and after I personally coerced 8 men into carrying
a Bonny who was very ill, when I had gone back to look for another
sick man on the line of march, they deliberately carried their comrade
into the Bush 50 yards off the track, and there left him to die. The
exertion of walking from front to rear of the Column was great, and
thus it was that, when coming along slowly--for I was suffering from
intestinal complaints, and could walk only by resorting frequently to
laudanum and chlorodyne--I heard a noise in the Bush which attracted
my attention. My servant told me he thought it was nothing, but I
persisted in looking, and there found the Bonny man whom I had put into
a hammock an hour earlier. I had him carried to the next encampment by
some of Baker Russell’s men, and upbraided Prince Charles, the Captain
of the company, who spoke and wrote perfect English, for the conduct of
his men. They, however, received my reproaches with apparent unconcern.
Next morning I arranged that the Bonny company should march behind the
sick; but when moving off, Prince Charles informed me that his men
absolutely refused to carry, saying that they never regarded a sick and
wounded man in their own country, and always left him to die. I halted
the Kossoo company, and directing them to cut some stout bamboos, told
the Bonnys that I should begin with the right-hand man, and unless they
picked up their sick comrade they would suffer severely until they
obeyed orders. They refused, so I had the right-hand man thrown down
and flogged until I was nearly sick from the sight. Then I had the next
man treated in a similar manner, but he received only 25 lashes when,
turning his head, he said, “I will carry.” The company then gave in,
and undertook to carry their comrade down to the Coast.
Two marches farther on, from the carelessness of an interpreter, and
the peculiar reticence of the Native character, I nearly had a man
flogged unjustly, the remembrance of which would have been very painful
to me. The Native soldiers for choice carried everything on their
heads, blanket, ammunition, rifles and cooking-pots, and thus when a
shot was fired in the Bush, or a man moved unexpectedly, everything
came down with a crash, and as we had several false alarms, I was
obliged to provide against this trouble. This I did by issuing two
cross belts for each black soldier. For two successive mornings I
noticed that one man in the Elmina company was still carrying loads
on his head. I fined him a day’s pay, and when I saw him disobeying
orders the third morning I had him made a prisoner. He still refused to
carry his kit except on his head, so I sent for the doctor, and said to
the Elmina, “When the men have eaten, I shall flog you.” While I was
having a cup of cocoa, a deputation came to the tree under which I was
sitting, to beg their comrade off, saying, “You have put us in front on
every occasion; when you, or your white officers went out, whether they
belonged to our company or not, we have always escorted them, and we
beg you will not flog this man.” I explained that he must obey orders.
They still gave me no indication of why the man had refused to obey
orders, but when I saw him and asked for a reason, he replied simply,
“The belts hurt me;” and on my further questioning him, he opened the
front of his shirt, and showed a deep hole in his body, which he had
received from a slug in action at Ordasu, and into which, without
troubling a doctor, he had stuffed a lump of grass! I rejoiced in my
persistence in questioning the man, which was the means of saving me
from doing a great injustice.
I spent some anxious days at Elmina on my return, for Arthur Eyre
had kept all such Public accounts as we had, as well as my private
accounts, and I provided the food and liquor for all the officers
of Wood’s Regiment, charging them the actual cost, and although my
friend had kept accurate accounts up till his death, it was difficult
for me to arrange satisfactorily with the officers, who seldom messed
with me four or five days at a time. Finally, I embarked on board the
_Manitoban_, and came home with our General, to whom the success of
the Expedition was due. When he went out there was a cloud of evil
auguries; advisers differed, and the causes of anticipated disasters
varied, but nearly all predicted failure. The successful result was due
primarily to Sir Garnet Wolseley. His mind it was that animated all,
for to his other great qualities he added that fire, that spirit, that
courage, which gave vigour and direction to his subordinates, bearing
down all resistance. Every one acknowledged his superior Military
genius, and when, on coming home, I was asked by the Adjutant-General
and the Military Secretary what my brother-officers and I thought of
Sir Garnet, I replied, “If he had gone down, I doubt whether there
was any man big enough to have entered Coomassie with only one day’s
rations.”
As I was leaving Elmina, I said to my friend Essevie, “You have
done very well throughout the four months you have served with me,
and I should like to send you a present from England. Have you any
preference?” After a moment’s reflection,[134] he replied, “Well, I
should like a tall black hat.” Before the ship sailed, however, he
wrote me a letter, asking if I would sell him one of my umbrellas.
I sent him both as a present; but the request put another idea into
my head, and on reaching London, having ordered him a 23s. Lincoln
& Bennett black hat of the largest size ever made, I called on Mr.
Lawson, Secretary of the Army and Navy Co-operative Society, and said
I wanted him to make the biggest umbrella ever seen--the sort of thing
which would take two men to carry--and with a different and startling
colour between every rib. “Do you know that will cost you over twenty
guineas?” “Possibly; but I should like to send a black man something
of which he may be proud.” And he booked the order. A few days later
he wrote to me that, as I probably knew, my idea was not original,
and he had found in the City an umbrella such as I desired, which had
been ordered by the Colonial Office for a Chief on the Gambia River
three years previously; but the sable Potentate having misbehaved, the
umbrella was still on sale, for, as Mr. Lawson quaintly wrote, “There
is no demand.” He bought it for me for £12, and also made for me a
ten-guinea walking-stick, ornamented with gold bosses, and the hat,
umbrella, and stick, on receipt at Cape Coast Castle, were handed over
to Essevie and Andoo, on a Full-dress parade of the garrison, which
marched past these somewhat unusual emblems of honour.
Twenty-two years afterwards, my eldest son took part in the next
expedition to Ashanti, and was sitting one day in the market-place of
Coomassie, when he saw a Native carrying a handsome gold stick. He,
like most Englishmen, thinking that money would buy anything that a
black man possessed, called to him, “Hey, sell me that stick.” The man
replied, “I cannot; it belongs to my Chief.” “Oh, he will take £5 for
it.” “No,” said the man, “he would not take any money for it;” and
somewhat unwillingly he handed it over for closer inspection. My son
read on it, “Presented to Chief Andoo by Colonel Evelyn Wood, 1874.”
Essevie was dead, but Andoo still lives, and was in Coomassie with the
Expedition of 1895–96.
My mother was staying at Belhus, the seat of Sir Thomas Barrett
Lennard, when I arrived home, and the tenantry and local friends gave
me a great reception, as did, a week later, the 90th Light Infantry;
for when I went down to stay with the officers at Dover, the Regiment
turned out and carried me up the heights to the Barracks in which the
Regiment was quartered.
[Illustration: A MAP TO ILLUSTRATE THE ASHANTI CAMPAIGN 1873–4.]