THE BATTLE OF AROGEE.
1868.
The man who stands out most prominently in Abyssinian history is
Theodore, the king of kings of Ethiopia. He was a remarkable personage,
perhaps the most remarkable who has appeared in Africa for some
centuries. Having led the life of a lawless soldier, accustomed from
childhood to witness the perpetration of the most barbarous acts of
cruelty and oppression, there is only one standard by which to measure
his career, and that an Abyssinian one.
The British Consul, Mr. Plowden, heard of his accession at Massowa, in
March, 1855, and at once proceeded to join his camp, with the approval
of the Foreign Office.
The news of Plowden’s death having reached London, Captain Cameron
was appointed to succeed him, it being the resolve of the Government
to persevere in the policy of cultivating friendly relations with
Abyssinia. The new consul was instructed to make Massowa his
headquarters, and he was further directed to avoid becoming a partisan
of any of the contending parties in the country. Cameron was well
received by the king. He received a letter from Theodore, to be
forwarded to the Queen of Britain. This strange epistle, which was
received at the Foreign Office on February 12, 1863, contained a
proposal to send an embassy to England, and a request that an answer
might be forwarded through Consul Cameron.
On its arrival, the letter was put aside, and no answer was sent.
The letter, which was afterwards to become so famous, contained the
following sentences:--
“I hope Your Majesty is in good health. By the power of God, I am well.
My fathers, the emperors, had forgotten our Creator. He handed over our
kingdom to the Gallas and Turks. But God created me, lifted me out of
the dust, and restored this empire to my rule.”
Early in 1864, a young Irishman named Kerans, whom the Consul had
appointed as his secretary, arrived with despatches from Britain,
which were seen by the king. Imagine the latter’s wrath when there
was no reply to his letter! Theodore felt insulted. Only one mode of
retaliation could soothe his wounded feelings, and forthwith he adopted
it. The British Consul and all his suite were put in prison. Cameron
was afterwards tortured with ropes, and the whole party were sent to
the fortress of Magdala and there put in irons.
Colonel Merryweather, our representative at Aden, after trying
everything, despaired of securing the release of the prisoners by
peaceful means. A warlike demonstration, he saw was inevitable, and in
March, 1867, he reported to the home authorities that the last chance
of effecting the liberation of the prisoners by conciliatory means had
failed.
In July, 1867, the British Cabinet finally resolved to send an
expedition to Abyssinia, to enforce the release of the captives.
Bombay having been fixed upon as the base of operations, the Government
of that Presidency was asked to make all the necessary arrangements. In
August, Sir Robert Napier, the commander-in-chief of the Bombay army,
was appointed to command the expedition.
The task which the force had to accomplish was to march over 400 miles
of a mountainous and little known region to the camp occupied by
Theodore, and to use armed force to release the British officers whom
he detained as prisoners.
The king had now broken up his camp at Debrataber. His power was
entirely gone. His once great empire was wholly in the hands of rebels.
Slowly towards his last stronghold he was marching, encumbered by his
guns and mortars and by much heavy baggage. According to the campaign
arranged, the British force and the king would advance on two lines
which would meet at Magdala.
The army, under King Theodore, consisted of about 3000 men, armed with
percussion loaders, about 1000 matchlock men, a mob of spearmen, and
about 30 pieces of ordnance which his people could not properly handle.
This rabble was to oppose the enormous disciplined army of the British.
Doubtless it was this fact which led Theodore to be described as being
like “an exhausted, hunted lion, wearily seeking his lair, to die there
unconquered and at bay.”
When Sir Robert Napier arrived upon the scene of operations, upwards
of 7500 of his men were ready to give battle. Two courses were then
open to him. He could have chosen to intercept Theodore in his flank
march before he reached Magdala, and so prevent the prisoners falling
completely into his power, or, by the alternative plan, which was
adopted, allow Theodore to reach Magdala at his leisure, with all his
guns, and thus place the British prisoners at his mercy.
The beginning of February saw the pioneer force under the General
marching on the road from Adyerat to Antalo. The difficulties of the
road were great, but the indomitable zeal and energy of the force
overcame them. Along the route the force was well received by the
people. The commander took care to leave a good impression behind him,
and this he did in several ways, but especially by the prompt payment
he ordered for everything that was brought for sale.
Theodore was also marching to Magdala, and he had surmounted
difficulties in a manner that was afterwards to astonish his foes.
He had odds against him, but he knew every inch of the country, and
won the race. Still, the king had already sealed his own doom. He had
devastated his one faithful province of Bagemder. He burned Gondar,
destroyed all the villages round Debrataber, and put to death in the
cruellest manner possible three thousand persons in the course of
eighteen months. There could only be one result of such barbarism. The
inhabitants of Bagemder, hitherto devoted to the king’s person, rose
against the tyrant and his diminishing army. Such a state of affairs
could not last long. The king had reduced a rich province to a desert,
and in order to keep his troops alive it was necessary that he should
move.
Back fell the king upon his fortress, his last hope in this his time
of bitter experience. He began his wonderful march in October, 1867.
It was forlorn, but magnificent, and at once stamps Theodore as a man
of brilliant resource. With no base of operations, surrounded on every
side by enemies, and with the ever-present necessity of constructing
roads over which to take his heavy artillery, he achieved what his
own countrymen had described as an impossibility. By the 1st March,
1868, the king saw the end of his wonderful undertaking approach. All
that remained was to drag the heavy ordnance up the Wark-waha valley
to Arogee, and thence up the steep declivity of the Fala saddle to
Islamgye, at the foot of Magdala.
The king now spoke frequently of the advance of the British. One day he
remarked, “With love and friendship the English will conquer me, but if
they come otherwise I know that they will not spare, and I shall make a
blood-bath and die.”
On the day Theodore’s army arrived at Arogee, he sent orders up to
Magdala that the irons were to be removed from Mr. Rassam. This might
be taken as a sign that the king was about to relent, but it was too
late--a fact which he seems to have realised himself very shortly
after. His conduct now became eccentric in the extreme. He invited the
British prisoners to come down to Islamgye and see the great mortar
brought up. When the operation was completed, the king conversed with
the prisoners, and said that if only his power had been as strong as it
was a few years ago, he would have gone to meet the British on landing.
Now, however, he had lost all Abyssinia, and had only that rock upon
which he must needs wait for them.
Stranger than ever, this once mighty ruler of men admitted to Mr.
Rassam that when he was excited he was not responsible for his actions.
This was soon proved. On one occasion when the king had drank to
excess, he was aroused by the clamouring of the native prisoners he
had released. Enraged at this, he ordered them all to be put to death,
commencing the work of execution himself. Many were hurled alive over
the precipice, and those who showed signs of life were shot down by the
soldiers. The massacre lasted for three hours, and was responsible for
two hundred deaths. According to one of his body-servants, Theodore
spent most of the night, after this massacre, in prayer, and was heard
to confess that he had been drunk when he committed it.
Meantime, on the 28th March, the British commander-in-chief had
encamped at Santava. Two days later the 2nd Brigade arrived,
accompanied by the naval brigade from the Rocket, under Captain
Fellowes of the Dryad. As usual, the blue-jackets were the very life of
the force. They chummed with the native troops. They joked and laughed
and danced, and kept everybody in good humour. The close friendship
between the sailors and the Sikhs was most amusing. The latter
could not speak a word of English, and yet the jolly tars seemed to
understand their every wish.
The two hostile forces, which for months had been converging from Debra
Tabor and the sea to the same point at Magdala, were now nearly face to
face.
“On that dark basaltic rock,” says Markham, “was the hunted fallen
king, with only 3000 soldiers, armed with percussion guns and
matchlocks, a rabble of spearmen, and a number of pieces of ordnance
which his strong will had created, but which his people knew not how to
use. Only a faithful few of his followers could be depended on to stand
by their brave master to the bitter end. His mighty prestige alone kept
the shattered remains of his army together.”
So much for the predicament in which Theodore found himself. Now for
the British position. In numbers they were nearly equal to the enemy.
They were armed and provided with all that science could suggest for
such an undertaking, besides, they were in a friendly country, and had
abundant supplies.
Bitter must have been the fallen Theodore’s reflections now. How he
must have sighed for some of his lost power and might as he realised
the magnitude of the task awaiting him! Yet he had some power left. The
prisoners were still in his hands. It was quite possible for him to
make the one object of his enemies turn out badly.
Early on 10th April the 1st Brigade, under Sir Charles Staveley,
began the descent of the Beshilo Ravine. The brigade was led up
the steep Gumbaji Spur towards Aficho. The 2nd Brigade, under the
commander-in-chief, followed. The cavalry was ordered to remain at
Beshilo, with instructions to be in readiness to advance when, called
upon. It was not intended that the fight should begin before dark.
Colonel Phayre had ascertained that Wark-waha valley was unoccupied by
the enemy. A message to this effect was accordingly sent to Sir Robert
Napier. Staveley, through whose hands the communication had passed,
advanced along the heights, and Napier ordered the naval brigade, A
battery, and the baggage to follow the king’s road up the Wark-waha
ravine. Napier and his staff rode up to the front in the course of the
afternoon, and were present at the action. Meanwhile Colonel Phayre
reconnoitred the country so far as Arogee plain, and the 1st Brigade
advanced along the Aficho plateau.
Right in front loomed Theodore’s stronghold, a thousand feet above. All
was silence, and nothing stirred to break or mar the stillness. Time
passed, and the British force waited anxiously. At last the silence was
broken! Between four and five in the afternoon a gun was fired from
the crest of Talla, 1200 feet above Arogee. It was followed by another
and still another, until the air seemed full of the sound of musketry.
Then the British soldiery were amazed and startled. The very pick of
Theodore’s army poured down upon them, yelling defiance as they came.
It was a trying moment, but the British blue-jackets were not long in
realising what it meant. In an instant they got their rocket tubes
into position, and opened fire upon the enemy coming from the heights.
Staveley also acted without loss of time. All the infantry of his
brigade were moved down the steep descent to Arogee. Then the snider
rifles opened a fire which no troops on earth could have withstood.
The Abyssinians were simply mowed down. Unable to get within range with
their antiquated rifles, they became merely a target for the British
fire. Hope must have left them then. Led on by the gallant old warrior,
the Fitaurari-Gabriyi, they returned again and again to the charge
with great bravery. But men could not struggle against machines. The
most heroic courage that ever filled the hearts of heroes was without
avail in face of such unequal odds. While the battle of Arogee was
in progress, a thunderstorm broke over Magdala, and the roar of the
thunder seemed to struggle for mastery against the roar of artillery.
Night came on and stopped the action. It was then found that Gabriyi
and most of his chief officers were dead. Slowly the broken Abyssinian
force made its way back to Magdala. There was no disorder, and now and
then a cheer could be heard from the throats of the defeated warriors.
A detachment of the enemy was still left, however, and it advanced to
attack the British baggage train. Some stiff fighting followed, in
which the gallantry of Theodore’s followers was again, manifest. Driven
back again and again with great slaughter, the Abyssinians continued to
advance, heedless of all danger, until they were checked by the baggage
guard. Those of the enemy who had got into the ravine were hemmed in,
and their loss was terrible. The Dam-wanz that night is said to have
been choked up with dead and dying men, and the little rill at the
bottom of the ravine ran red with blood.
The main body of the enemy, too, had not yet reached safety. The
blue-jackets had taken up a position more to the front, and into the
retreating force they sent rockets, with terrible effect. Shots were
also fired at the crest of Talla, whence the guns of Theodore had
played, but just when they had got the exact range the naval brigade
were ordered to cease firing.
The Abyssinians estimated their force at 3000 armed with guns and
matchlocks, and about 1000 spearmen. Of these, from 700 to 800 were
killed--349 having been killed on the left attack alone; 1500 were
wounded, most of them severely. Many of the survivors fled without
returning to Magdala, and all night the Abyssinians were calling to
their wounded comrades, and carrying them off the field.
The British numbered close on 2000 men, of whom Captain Roberts and six
men of the 4th, twelve of the Punjaub Pioneers, and one Bombay sapper
were wounded--two mortally, nine severely, and nine slightly. Four of
the wounds inflicted on the Pioneers were from spears, which proved
that the fighting was not all on the side of the British.
It was computed that 18,000 rounds of musketry were fired by the
British. The action will be remembered in military history as the first
in which the snider rifle was used.
Touching in the extreme is the description of events in Theodore’s camp
on the night of the Arogee battle.
“As the shades of evening closed round, Theodore looked down and saw
his army reeling under the deadly fire of the British troops. He
walked, sad and desponding, to the foot of the Selassyé Peak, and
there in the thick darkness, with peals of thunder resounding over
his head, he waited for the return of his chiefs and soldiers. Then a
broken remnant began to crowd about him, coming up the steep path....
At a glance he saw it all. His army was broken and destroyed, and no
hope was left but in concession to an invincible enemy. At midnight
he deputed Mr. Flad and Mr. Waldmeier to go up to Magdala and make
proposals of peace to Mr. Rassam, confessing that with the destruction
of his army his power was gone.”