The March to Magdala

    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.”

THE END

notes

1

It was not for some months after this date that the transport officers were allowed to move their camp to a more habitable spot.

2

This regimental arrangement was carried out during the latter part of the march to Magdala, and was found to answer extremely well.

3

My anticipations with regard to the railway were more than realised; for the last two miles of the railway to Koomaylo were not made at the termination of the expedition, and the portion which was completed was, without exception, the roughest, most shaky, and most dangerous piece of railway ever laid down. It is to be hoped that upon any future occasion a contractor will be employed instead of an engineer officer, who cannot have either the requisite knowledge or experience.