At last, after endless hindrances, the expedition was within measurable
distance of coming into direct touch with the Ashantis, and Henty
records in dramatic style the great decisive battle of the campaign,
when, after five hours and a half of stubborn fighting, the Ashantis
were completely discomfited. The Battle of Amoaful will long remain a
memory in Ashanti, where it is a superstition to swear by the days which
have brought misfortune in their train. And the last day of January in
that eventful year, or the word Amoaful, will for centuries be the most
solemn of words to the Ashanti people--an oath by which kings will be
bound; a legend with which children will be awed. But yet there was no
shame in the defeat. The Ashantis fought like the brave men they are,
and though worsted they added to their reputation, while nothing but
admiration can be felt for the manner in which they came on time and
again, notwithstanding the fierce musketry fire which was intended to
stop their assaults.
On the day of the battle the marching orders came early. The Naval
Brigade and the 23rd Regiment had to come from Kiang Bossu. These
united at Insafoo with the 42nd, the Rifle Brigade, and the artillery of
Captain Rait, the officer who had succeeded so well in his attempt to
utilise oxen for hauling the guns up country. At Quarman things were
well under weigh at dawn, but it was half-past seven ere the head of the
42nd Regiment entered the village, through which they swung without a
halt. Following them came Rait's artillery, a company of the 23rd, and
the Naval Brigade, which included the Marines, eighty in number, who
distinguished themselves like their comrades. Henty, in reference to
the disappointment that was felt in England at the doings by the Marines
not being specially commented upon, rightly points out that it would
have been difficult to go into details respecting the deeds of this
small body, wholly apart from the force with which they were linked. It
was enough that they shared in all the glory of the brigade of the
"handy men."
Wood's regiment had only three companies and Russell's four, owing to
the garrisons which had necessarily to be left _en route_, and these
regiments took their position in the rear of the naval men, whom they
were to follow in the fight.
When the staff reached Quarman, Henty learned that the difficulties of
transport were at last surmounted. Colonel Colley proved an excellent
transport officer, and had succeeded in amply provisioning Insafoo.
Henty proceeded with the staff in the rear of Russell's regiment, and
had not been more than ten minutes on the march ere the brisk rattle of
musketry told him that the 42nd were busy at work clearing the village.
There was a short pause, and then the firing began again. At this time
he was annoyed at the progress being so slow. In front there was much
lumber in the way of ammunition and hammocks, which impedimenta was in
the charge of a large number of bearers--"somewhat scared and wholly
stupid men." Still, he managed to get a very good panoramic view of the
proceedings, and in the course of his exciting narrative he describes
accurately the position of all the leaders of our troops, from Sir
Garnet downwards. He says that the first shot was fired a few minutes
before eight, and it was nearly half an hour later that the troops came
out into the open place of Agamassie, a village of six or eight houses.
The firing was unceasing, and with bush all round there was heavy work
for the engineers in clearing a way for the baggage. The enemy's fire
came from the front and right and left, and the English progress was
slow.
At the entrance to Agamassie Captain Buckle, of the Royal Engineers, a
brave man and a brilliant officer, was found breathing his last, shot
with two slugs just above the heart, while the doctors were hard at work
attending to the wounds of several men of the 42nd. Not far away Dr
Feagan, of the Naval Brigade, was also busy, having taken up his station
under a tree--a tree which Sir Garnet promoted to be his head-quarters.
Here three roads converged, and he was able to receive reports from
Colonel McLeod on the left, Sir Archibald Alison in the centre, and
Colonel Wood on the right. It seems that the 42nd drove the enemy's
outposts helter skelter out of the village, and then pushed on for
nearly a quarter of a mile, when they were checked by a tremendous fire.
The undergrowth was dense in the extreme, and the Ashantis contested
every inch, while a great difficulty which our men had to face was the
risk of firing at friends, in consequence of the intricacy of the bush,
which was so bewildering that all idea of the points of the compass was
lost. Sir Garnet sent orders to commanding officers to warn their men
against this danger, and to prevent it from happening the rear of
Colonel Wood's column was swung round so that it advanced more towards
the right. "Five minutes with the Naval Brigade," Henty says, "showed
me sufficiently that I should gain nothing in the way of incidents by
remaining there, for no enemy was actually in sight, while I was running
a very considerable risk of being knocked over. I therefore returned to
the head-quarters at the village."
It was now ten o'clock; wounded men were coming in fast--42nd Rifles,
Naval Brigade, and native allies. On the left the firing had nearly
ceased, and a despatch was received from Colonel McLeod saying that all
was comparatively quiet on his side. Orders were accordingly sent to
him to bear to the north-east until he came in contact with the enemy.
In so doing he came upon a partial clearing, where a sharp opposition
was experienced. The Hausas carried the clearing at a rush, but the
enemy, as usual, opened a heavy fire from the edge of the bush. The
Hausas were recalled and a fire was opened with the rockets, which soon
drove the Ashantis back. The 42nd were meanwhile in the thick of
things, and the men were admirably handled by Major McPherson; but
generalship availed nothing in a swamp where the firing was terrific, so
the regiment suffered a temporary check. The enemy could not be seen,
but every bush had its white puff of smoke, and the air was full of
slugs. At this juncture Captain Rait's guns proved their efficacy.
Assisted by Lieutenant Saunders, the Captain advanced boldly in front of
the line and poured round after round of grape into the enemy, with the
result that their fire slackened and the 42nd were enabled to continue
their advance. Through the camp and up the hill they went; and now the
effect of the English fire was to be seen, for the dead Ashantis lay in
heaps. Beyond the camp upon the hill the bush was thicker than ever,
and here, where it was impossible for the white soldier to skirmish, the
Ashantis made a last desperate stand. The narrow lane up which alone
the troops could pass was torn as if by hail with the shower of slugs,
but a large tree which stood nearly in the centre of the path, and
caused it slightly to curve, afforded some shelter to our men, and they
sent back a storm of bullets in return.
The 42nd suffered greatly, and Major McPherson had been shot in the leg;
but he declined to go to the ambulance, and, helped by a stick, still
led his men. Eight other officers were wounded, and the total of 104
killed and wounded out of a force of a little over 450, showed plainly
enough how hard fought was the day. However, victory was not far off.
The Ashantis found the bush a trifle too hot, and had to take to the
open, where the Sniders and the guns proved too much for them. From
this point the advance was rapid. Led by Sir A. Alison, the 42nd went
with a rush up the narrow path and out into the clearing beyond. There
was desultory firing from the houses, but the men drove the enemy out of
these, and a single shell down the space (hardly a street) which divided
the village burst in a group at the farther end, killing eight and
completing the work.
It was mid-day then, but the Ashantis were not finally beaten, and
throughout Henty has high praise for their courage and tenacity, which
was evidenced once again in a determined but abortive attempt to retake
the village.
Finally, when Sir Garnet gave orders for the general advance, a number
of our allies, who had fought admirably while on the defensive, raised
their war-cry and, sword in hand, rushed on like so many panthers let
loose, while by their side, skirmishing as coolly as if on parade, were
the men of the Rifle Brigade. The latter searched every bush with their
bullets, and in five minutes from the beginning of the advance the
Ashantis were in full retreat.
Such is the story of the Battle of Amoaful, a battle which reflects as
much credit on all engaged in it as many affairs in which the number of
combatants have been ten times as large.
"Never," says Henty, "was a battle fought admitting less of description.
It is impossible, indeed, to give a picturesque account of an encounter
in which there was nothing whatever picturesque; in which scarcely a man
engaged saw an enemy from the commencement to the end; in which there
was no manoeuvring, no brilliant charge, no general concentration of
troops. The battle consisted simply of five hours of lying down, of
creeping through the scrub, of gaining ground foot by foot, and of
pouring a ceaseless fire into every bush in front which might conceal an
invisible foe."
The scene in Agamassie after the day had been won was full of interest.
In the centre of the village Sir Garnet was busy issuing instructions
and making sure that his orders were carried out. Fortunately for the
wounded, there was but little sunshine, and Henty has a word of praise
for the fortitude of the natives, who submitted to the operation of
probing and extracting slugs without a murmur. There were in all 250
casualties, but only fifteen or twenty deaths. One poor fellow of the
42nd, unluckily, was separated from his comrades in the bush and was
killed, while when found later he was headless.
It was difficult to estimate the number of natives engaged. The total
might be anything from fifteen to twenty thousand. No accurate details
could be obtained from the enemy, for the Ashantis seem to be unable to
count anything higher than thirty. Beyond that the figures are to them
too vast for comprehension. They always carry off their killed and
wounded unless extremely hard pressed; but after the Battle of Amoaful
their dead lay very thickly together, often in groups of five or six.
Henty considered, too, that numbers of the wounded could only have
crawled away to die. In and about the village eighty bodies were found,
and he estimates the Ashanti loss at two thousand, and these the best
fighting men. Ammon Quatia, a famous leader, was among the slain, and
Aboo, one of the six great feudal kings, fell also, likewise the king's
chief executioner. The Ashantis were wretchedly armed, and yet for five
hours they held out against picked troops who were equipped with the
best weapons of precision. The choice of a position, too, was, he
considered, admirable.
After the din of the battle the succeeding silence was very strange, but
this was soon broken by the rattle of firing to the rear. The Ashantis
were still in force along the road, and the first convoys of wounded
were forced to return, while Quarman had been attacked--"unpleasant news
to a man whose baggage was in that town, and who knew that the garrison
was a small one." Fortunately, a few hours later the village in
question was relieved.
Amoaful was found to be a dirty town, capable of housing about two
thousand people. It was divided into two parts by the high road, some
thirty yards wide, and down this road grew three or four shady trees.
Under these officers and men sat in groups, the central tree being left
to the officers, just as in a French town one cafe is tacitly reserved
for their use. There was nothing to eat, apart from the limited
haversack ration, but everyone was in high spirits. Fortunately an
immense supply of grain was found, and this came in usefully to the
Control. It was served out to the carriers, who much preferred it to
rice.
Bequah, only a mile and a quarter from Amoaful, was the capital of a
powerful Ashanti king. Here on the following day the enemy were only
dislodged after a severe fight, they being in great force; and Henty
attributes this victory in part to the moral effect produced by the
proceedings at Amoaful. The place was burned down, which action of
course proved a damaging blow to the prestige of the king, though so far
as permanent damage went, the houses with their palm-leaf roofs could
easily be rebuilt.
The many villages that they passed were much like each other, and the
programme of the troops in the course of the march onward to Coomassie
was marked by a good deal of repetition--bush dangers, sudden
fusillades, and then a searching of the scrub in every direction before
camp was formed.
Some of the convoys suffered, and in the Quarman attack several officers
lost their kits, and were reduced for the remainder of the campaign to
the clothes on their backs. This was in consequence of the action of
the cowardly carriers, who threw down their loads and ignominiously ran
away.
The native troops fought well, and "rushed" several of the villages in
good style; still, the advance was slow, the enemy hanging on the
flanks. Here and there, though, in the villages there was evidence of
panic--war-drums, horns, chiefs' stools and umbrellas being scattered
broadcast. Up to the time, however, of a message being received from
General Sir Archibald Alison to the effect that all the villages save
the last were taken, the firing had been going on without cessation, and
Sir Garnet himself received a blow on the helmet from a slug.
A pestilential black swamp surrounded Coomassie, and after this was
passed and the town had been entered, the General rode up to the troops,
who had formed in line, and called for cheers for the Queen.
There was a great deal to be done, and a beginning was made with
disarming all the Ashantis possible. The first night in Coomassie was
eventful, for fires broke out in several directions, the result of
carriers and others plundering. _Pour encourager les autres_, one man--
a policeman, of all people--was hanged at sight. Several others had the
lash. The General was much vexed at these fires, as he had asked the
king to come in and make peace, stipulating that the town should be
spared.
Coomassie was decidedly picturesque, many of its houses resembling
Chinese temples. But the great feature was the "fetish." Everything
was fetish. Near the door of each house was a tree, at the foot of
which were placed little idols, calabashes, bits of china, bones--an
extraordinary medley. Inside there was dust and litter, the result of
years of neglect, and the chief apartments were filled with lumber, all
kinds of paraphernalia, umbrellas, drums, wooden maces, and what not.
Up to the last it was believed by the Ashantis that the fetish would
save the day, and the optimism of the king was shown by the state of the
royal palace. It was in all respects exactly as he had left it, except
that the gold-dust must have been carried off or buried. The royal bed
and couch lay in their places, the royal chairs were in their usual
raised positions, only oddly enough they had been turned round and over.
In the palace there was a curious jumble of gold masks, gold caps,
clocks, china, pillows, guns, etc. It was rather like a sale-room.
There were many great alcoved courts, one containing war-drums
ornamented either with skulls or thigh-bones. In two or three there was
simply a royal chair upon which his majesty used to sit to administer
what passed for justice, and several stools were found covered with
thick coatings of recently-shed blood. Henty says that a horrible smell
of gore pervaded the whole palace. The nauseating odour was everywhere
perceptible; and this was not to be wondered at, for twenty yards from
one of the fetish trees was a charnel place where thousands had
perished. Here were scores of bodies in various stages of putrefaction.
The palace contained fetishes of all kinds, little dolls, and other
articles. The king's bed-room was ten feet by eight, and the bed had a
ledge on the near side, which the monarch had to step over when he
sought his pillow. Among other weapons found here was an English
general's sword, inscribed, "From Queen Victoria to the King of
Ashanti", presented to his predecessor.
There is only one term that can be applied to Henty's work in connection
with the march to Coomassie, and that is _thorough_, for danger seems
not to have been considered for a moment. What the troops had to do, he
told himself, that he had to see, and self was never spared.
After the desperate fighting was at an end, and the General's offers to
the defeated monarch had been made known, it was anticipated that the
king would come in and surrender. But in spite of much waiting and
patience on the General's part nothing happened, and all delay and
expectation were ultimately brought to an end by a terrific storm. For
now, after much thought, it was decided--and Henty applauded the
decision--to mark the visit of the punitive troops by the destruction of
the place as a warning and an object-lesson in Britain's power to the
king and the petty chiefs around. For the moment it was anticipated
that to fire the place would be impossible after the saturating by the
tremendous rains, as this, it was feared, would prevent the thatch from
burning; but the engineers went to work with axe, powder, and palm-leaf
torch, with the result that the whole fabric of the place was brought
down like a piled-up pack of cards. Palm, bamboo, and thatch, as soon
as the flames once got hold and began to leap, rapidly disappeared, and
it was soon abundantly clear that before long Coomassie would be a city
of the past. The royal residence, which was little more than a
cemetery, shared in the general destruction, for it was blown up; and
then the men cheered, and every heart grew light, for the task was done.