WITH THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE AT TEL-EL-KEBIR
(1882)
Where ha’e ye been a’ the day,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie?
Saw ye him that’s far away,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie?
On his head a bonnet blue,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie;
Tartan plaid and Highland trews,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie?
_Regimental March._
Previous to 1882 Egypt had for many years been under the control of
England and France, but neither of these Powers had actually occupied
the country. In 1882, owing to the Nationalist Movement under Arabi Bey,
which endangered the lives and property of Europeans, these two Powers
decided that some steps must be taken to ensure the security of the
white population. Shortly after, France agreed to leave the matter in
the hands of the English, and the British fleet bombarded Arabi’s
position at Alexandria, while the English army under Sir Garnet Wolseley
landed upon the coast to crush the Egyptian forces. This action was to
end in the English occupation of Egypt, which has lasted until to-day.
The principal reason for acting so quickly and with such determination
was the danger that would ensue should the control of the Suez Canal
fall into the hands of a hostile Power. The Khedive, who was a vassal of
the Sultan, possessed at this time a mere shadow of authority, and after
the war an English official was appointed to control his policy.
Sir Garnet Wolseley having decided to give the enemy no warning of his
advance upon Cairo, planned to descend upon the city from Ismailia, and
not from Alexandria as they expected. The position of Tel-el-Kebir was
destined to become the scene of the final battle before the march upon
Cairo.
The British army included the Grenadiers and Coldstreams, some cavalry
and artillery, and the Highland Brigade, formed of the Black Watch, the
Camerons, the Gordons, and the Highland Light Infantry. It is also of
interest to note that with the force was a major of Egyptian cavalry
called Herbert Kitchener.
Following the landing in Egypt, the army marched across the desert in
the hope of surprising the enemy. The bombardment of Aboukir took place,
and shortly afterwards the enemy were repulsed from Magfar. The British
forces now concentrated at Kassassin, where Wolseley decided that the
final conflict must be forced. They were now very near to the enemy’s
position, and on the night of the 12th of September were only some five
miles distant from Tel-el-Kebir, where the Egyptians were heavily
entrenched.
Sir Garnet Wolseley, having studied the position for several days,
learned that the Egyptian pickets did not come beyond their defences at
night. This led him to believe that a swift night assault might carry
their position without further trouble. There were, however, several
considerations that might militate against the success of a night
attack. For one thing it was most essential that the enemy should be so
thoroughly dispersed that the cavalry could advance without delay upon
Cairo. There was also the danger that, in the darkness, the soldiers
would fire upon each other, and to prevent such a calamity he placed the
infantry at each end of the line and the artillery in the centre.
The troops set out in complete silence, no smoking or even the giving of
orders being permitted. It was a moonless night, and, careful as they
were, the Highland Brigade at one period lost their direction, and a new
formation delayed the advance.
About an hour before sunrise the Highlanders found themselves beneath
the parapet of the enemy’s position, and the end of the hazardous march
was reached. Sir Archibald Alison, who commanded the Highland Brigade,
has written: “The Brigade formed for the march in the order in which it
was to attack—two lines two deep. The rifles were unloaded, the bayonets
unfixed, and the men warned that only two signals would be given—a word
to ‘Fix bayonets,’ a bugle sound of ‘To storm.’ I never felt anything so
solemn as that night march, nor do I believe that any one who was in it
will ever forget it. No light but a faint star; no sound but the slow,
measured tread of men on the desert sand. Just as the first tinge of
light appeared in the east a few rifle shots fired out of the darkness
showed that the enemy’s outposts were reached. The sharp click of the
bayonets then answered the word, ‘To fix’—a few minutes more of deep
silence, and then a blaze of musketry flashed across our front, and
passed far away to each flank, by the light of which we saw the swarthy
faces of the Egyptians, surmounted by their red tarbooshes, lining the
dark rampart before us. I never felt such a relief in my life. I knew
then that Wolseley’s star was bright, that the dangerous zone of fire
had been passed in the darkness, that all had come now to depend upon a
hand-to-hand struggle.”
The Highlanders were some hundred and fifty yards from the Egyptian
entrenchments, which were 6 feet high and 4 feet deep. Suddenly through
the long night silence a bugle rang out, and with a cheer the Highland
Brigade broke into a charge. Some 200 men fell before they reached the
parapet, the losses being increased before they scaled the
entrenchments. Alison had written that he never saw men fight more
steadily than the Egyptian soldiers, they rallied every foot of the way.
“At this time,” he says, “it was a noble sight to see the Gordon and
Cameron Highlanders—now mingled together in the confusion of the fight,
their young officers leading with waving swords, their pipes screaming,
and that proud smile on the lips and that bright gleam in the eyes of
the men which you see only in the hour of successful battle.”
It is said Donald Cameron of the Camerons was “the first man to mount
the trenches, and the second man to fall.” A minute, and whole companies
of men were swarming and pouring like waves of the sea over the Egyptian
defences, and rushing down upon their defenders. Although taken by
surprise the enemy made a stubborn fight, but after half an hour’s
fierce conflict the battle of Tel-el-Kebir was over, and the morning sun
rose to pour its rays down upon the flying Egyptian army. Without delay
Sir Garnet Wolseley pushed forward the cavalry to advance upon Cairo.
Thus Arabi was prevented either from arresting the retreat or sacking
the city, and realising that there was no further hope in resistance to
the British arms he surrendered his sword, and the rebellion was over.
It had been a swift action, but it would be wrong either to underrate
the discipline and bravery of the Egyptian troops or to imagine that it
was an easy victory. As General Hamley has written in the _Nineteenth
Century_: “The Scottish people may be satisfied with the bearing of
those who represented them in the land of the Pharaohs. No doubt any
very good troops, feeling that they were willing, would have
accomplished the final advance; but what appear to me exceptional are:
First, the order and discipline which marked that march by night through
the desert; and, secondly, the readiness with which the men sprang
forward to storm the works. The influence of the march had been
altogether of a depressing kind—the dead silence, the deep gloom, the
funereal pace, the unknown obstacles, and enemy. They did not know what
was in front, but neither did they stop to consider. There was not the
slightest sign that the enemy was surprised—none of the clamour, shouts,
or random firing which would have attended a sudden call to arms. Even
very good troops at the end of that march might have paused when
suddenly greeted by that burst of fire, and none but exceptionally good
ones could have accomplished the feats I have mentioned.”
It is worth while repeating these words of General Hamley’s, because in
a later chapter we shall have to deal with that other memorable night
march at Magersfontein. However melancholy the story, it serves to
illustrate that when a night attack does not prove a surprise it becomes
nothing less than a calamity.