The March to Magdala

As the enemy poured down the ravine they were received by a withering fire from the deadly Snider. A portion of the Punjaubees came down the ravine and took them in flank, and some of the guns of Penn’s battery, getting upon a projecting spur, scattered death everywhere amongst them. From the extreme rapidity of the fire of the Snider, the firing at this time in different parts of the field was as heavy and continuous as that of a general action between two large armies. The Punjaubees behaved with great gallantry and charged with the bayonet, doing great execution. The natives, who had fought with great pluck, now attempted to escape up the opposite side of the ravine, but great numbers were shot down as they did so, their white dresses offering a plain mark to our riflemen; at last, however, the remnant gained the opposite bank, and fled across the country to our left, their retreat to Magdala being cut off. The action, from the first to the last gun, lasted an hour and a half. It was, as far as our part of the fray was concerned, a mere skirmish. We had not a single man killed, and only about thirty wounded, most of them slightly. Captain Roberts, however, was hit in the elbow-joint with a ball, and will, it is feared, lose his arm. On the other hand, to the enemy this is a decisive and crushing defeat. Upwards of five thousand of Theodore’s bravest soldiers sallied out; scarcely as many hundreds returned. Three hundred and eighty bodies were counted the next morning, and many were believed to have been carried off in the night. Very many fell on the slope of the hill, and away in the ravines to our right and left, where our burying-parties could not find them. Certainly five hundred were killed, probably twice as many were wounded, and of these numbers have only crawled away to die. It was a terrible slaughter, and could hardly be called a fight, between disciplined bodies of men splendidly armed, and scattered parties of savages scarcely armed at all. Much as the troops wish for an opportunity of distinguishing themselves, I have heard a general hope expressed that we shall not have to storm the place, for there is but little credit to be gained over these savages, and the butchery would be very great. The natives are, however, undoubtedly brave, and behaved really very gallantly. Not a single shield, gun, or spear has been picked up except by the side of the dead. The living, even the wounded, retreated; they did not fly. There was no sauve qui peut, no throwing away of arms, as there would have been under similar desperate circumstances by European troops. As the troops returned to the rear we passed many sad spectacles. In one hollow a dozen bodies lay in various positions. Some had died instantaneously, shot through the head; others had fallen mortally wounded, and several of these had drawn their robes over their faces, and died like Stoics. Some were only severely wounded, and these had endeavoured to crawl into bushes, and there lay uttering low moans. Their gaudy silk bodices, the white robes with scarlet ends which had flaunted so gaily but two hours since, now lay dabbled with blood, and dank with the heavy rains which had been pitilessly coming down for the last hour.

I have omitted to mention that a tremendous thunderstorm had come on while the engagement was at its height, and the deep roar of the thunder had for a time completely drowned the heavy rattle of musketry, the crack of the steel guns, and the boom of the heavy cannon upon Fahla. Once, when the storm was at its height, the sun had shone brightly out through a rift of the thunder-clouds, and a magnificent rainbow shone over the field upon which the combatants were still fiercely contending. Only twice was the voice of man heard loudly during the fight. The first was a great cheer from the natives upon the hill, and which we could only conjecture was occasioned by the return unharmed of some favourite chief. The other was the cheer which the whole British force gave as the enemy finally retired up into their strongholds. Thus terminated, soon after six o’clock, one of the most decided and bloody skirmishes which, perhaps, ever occurred. It will be, moreover, memorable as being the first encounter in which British troops ever used breech-loading rifles. Tremendous as was the fire, and great as was the slaughter, I am of opinion, and in this many of the military men agree with me, that the number of the enemy killed would have been at least as great had the troops been armed with the Enfield. The fire was a great deal too rapid. Men loaded and fired as if they were making a trial of rapidity of fire, and I saw several instances in which only two or three natives fell among a group, the whole of which would have been mown down had the men taken any aim whatever. At the end of an hour there was scarcely a cartridge left of the ninety rounds which each man carried into action, and the greater portion of them were fired away in the first quarter of an hour. The baggage-guard used up all their stock, and were supplied with fresh ammunition from the reserve which they guarded. Against close bodies of men the breech-loader will do wonders. In the gorges, where the natives were clustered thickly together, it literally mowed them down. Upon the open not one shot in a hundred told. In a great battle the ammunition, at this rate of expenditure, would be finished in an hour. From what I saw of the fighting, I am convinced that troops should, if possible, load at the muzzle when acting as skirmishers, and at the breech only when in close conflict against large bodies of cavalry or infantry. It is all very well to order men to fire slowly, a soldier’s natural eagerness when he sees his enemy opposite to him will impel him to load and fire as quickly as possible. He cannot help it, nor can he carry more than sixty rounds of ammunition, which will not last him twenty minutes. It certainly appears to me that a soldier’s rifle should combine breech- and muzzle-loading, and that he should only use the former method when specially ordered by his commanding officer.

The troops retired amidst a heavy rain, and were marched back to the camp they had left to fetch their greatcoats and blankets, which had been left behind when they advanced to the fight. Then they returned to the ground held by the Punjaubees, and took their station for the night, as they here guarded the top of the road, at which the baggage was now arriving, it having been kept back during the fight. It was perfectly dark before we reached our camping-ground, and as this was in many places covered with thorns and bushes, which in the darkness were quite invisible, very considerable confusion prevailed. Now that the excitement was over, everyone was again tormented with thirst, but it was felt less than it would otherwise have been, owing to the thorough soaking which every man had got. Of course there was no getting at the baggage, which remained on a flat behind us, and everyone wrapped himself in his wet blanket and lay down to snatch a little sleep if he could, and to forget hunger and thirst for a while. As we had marched before daybreak, and went into action long before any of the baggage-animals came up, no one had taken food for the whole of the long and fatiguing day. Very strong bodies of troops were thrown out as pickets, and the whole were got up and under arms at two in the morning, lest Theodore should renew his attack before daybreak. There was now news that there was water to be had in a ravine to our left, and the bheesties were sent down with the water-skins, and numbers of the soldiers also went down with their canteens. The water was worse than any I ever drank before, and ever think to drink again. Numbers of animals, mules or cattle, had been slaughtered there; it appeared, in fact, to have been a camp of Theodore’s army. The stench was abominable, and the water was nearly as much tainted as the atmosphere. The liquid mud we had drank the day before was, in comparison, a healthy and agreeable fluid. However, there was no help for it, and few, if any, refused the noxious fluid. This climate must certainly be an extraordinarily healthy one; for, in spite of hardship and privation, of wet, exposure, bad water, and want of stimulants, the health of the troops has been unexceptionally good. Only once, at Gazoo, have we had threatenings of dysentery, and this passed away as soon as we moved forward. I question if we had a single man in hospital upon the day of the fight, which is certainly most providential, considering the extreme paucity of medical comforts, and the very few dhoolies available for the sick and wounded. Before daybreak we again started – as the place upon which we were encamped was within range of the enemy’s guns – and marched back to this, the camping-ground of the preceding afternoon.

The 2d brigade arrived soon after daylight, and took up their camp a little in the rear of the position in which we had passed the night. Our baggage came on with us, and we had now the satisfaction of being in our tents again, and of getting what we greatly needed – food. After breakfast I rode over to the camp of the 2d brigade, and then, leaving my horse, went down into the ravine, where fatigue-parties were engaged in the work of burial. The scene was very shocking. In one or two narrow gorges in which they had been pent up, fifty or sixty dead bodies lay almost piled together. Very ghastly were their wounds. Here was a man nearly blown to pieces with a shell; near him another the upper part of whose head had been taken off by a rocket; then again, one who lay as if in a peaceful sleep, shot through the heart; next to him one less fortunate, who, by the nature of his wound, must have lingered in agony for hours through the long night before death brought a welcome relief. Two of them only still lived, and these were carried into camp; but their wounds were of so desperate a nature that it was probable they could not live many hours. Strangely enough, there were no wounds of a trifling nature. All who had not been mortally wounded had either managed to crawl away, or had been removed by their friends. With a very few exceptions it was a charnel-place of dead, whose gaudy silk and coloured robes were in ghastly contrast with their stiffened and contorted attitudes. Among the few survivors was the Commander-in-chief of Theodore’s army, who was carried to the camp. He, like the others we were able to succour, expressed his gratitude for our kindness, and said the affair had been a complete surprise to them. They saw what was apparently a train of baggage without any protection whatever coming up the valley; and they had not noticed our small body of infantry on the brow. They sallied out therefore, anticipating little or no resistance. It certainly speaks well for the courage of the natives, that, taken by surprise, as they must have been, by our infantry, with the rockets and shells, they should yet have fought as bravely and well as they did. There can be no doubt that, had not the fight been brought on so suddenly as it was, and had the 2d brigade been at hand, we should have gone straight up upon the heels of the fugitives, and captured the place then and there. As it was, although it might have been done, the troops were too tired and exhausted to have put them at such an arduous task; for Theodore would, no doubt, have fought with desperation, and we should have lost many men before we could have surmounted the hill. I say this, because it is the opinion of many that we might have taken the place at once, had we chosen to go on.

Altogether it was a wonderful success, especially considering that we fought under the disadvantage of a surprise, and without the slightest previous plan or preparation. It is only fortunate that we had to deal with Theodore and Abyssinians, and not with regular troops.

Theodore was general enough to perceive and to take advantage of Colonel Phayre’s egregious blunder; but his troops were not good enough to carry out his intentions. As to Colonel Phayre, it is not probable that we shall hear any more of him while the expedition lasts; for Sir Robert Napier’s long-suffering patience for once broke down, and he opened his mind to Colonel Phayre in a way which that officer will not forget for the rest of his life.

Before I left camp for my ride to the ravine, an event of great interest occurred, but which I deferred mentioning in its place, as I wished to complete my description of the battle and field without a break. At half-past seven, just as I was at breakfast, I heard a great cheering and hurrahing, and found that Lieutenant Prideaux and Mr. Flad had come in with proposals from Theodore. This was a great relief to us all, as there was considerable fear that Theodore, in a fit of rage at his defeat the day before, might have put all the captives to death. This, however, was not the case. The prisoners had indeed passed an unenviable afternoon while the battle was going on; but Prideaux and Blanc consoled each other, as they heard the heavy firing of our rifles, that at least, if they were to die that night, they were to some extent avenged beforehand. These two gentlemen have throughout written in a spirit of pluck and resignation which does them every honour.

Theodore had come in after the engagement in a rather philosophical mood, and said, “My people have been out to fight yours. I thought that I was a great man, and knew how to fight. I find I know nothing. My best soldiers have been killed; the rest are scattered. I will give in. Go you into camp and make terms for me.”

And so the two captives came into camp. Both looked well and hearty, and acknowledged that, as far as eating and drinking go, they have been far better off than we are ourselves. Indeed, with the exception of captivity and light chains, the captives do not appear to have been ill-treated for many months. They have their separate houses, their servants, and anything they could buy with the supplies of money sent to them.

A horrible business took place in Magdala on the very day before our arrival. Theodore had all the European captives out, and before their eyes put to death three hundred and forty prisoners, many of whom he had kept in chains for years. Among them were men, women, and little children. They were brought out chained, and thrown down on the ground, their heads fastened down to their feet. Among this defenceless and pitiable group the brutal tyrant went with his sword and slashed right and left until he had killed a score or so. Then, getting tired, he called out six of his musketeers, who continued to fire among the wretched crowd until all were despatched. Their bodies were then thrown over a precipice.

There is a general feeling of surprise expressed in camp that the Englishmen who were witnesses of this horrible spectacle, and who were themselves unfettered, did not make a rush upon the monster and cut him down then and there. They could hardly have increased their own danger, for they tell us that they expected that they themselves would be put to death after the murder of the native prisoners. Besides, in the presence of so dreadful a butchery as this must have been, a man does not calculate – he feels; and the impulse to rush with a scream upon the drunken tyrant and to kill him would, one would think, have been overpowering.

The captives describe the usual mode of execution, by cutting-off the hands and feet, as being a refinement of cruelty. A slight gash is made round the member, and it is then wrenched-off by main force, the arteries being so much twisted that very little loss of blood takes place. The wretched beings are then left to die; and some of them linger for many days, and then expire of thirst more than of their wounds, it being death to administer either food or water to them.

We can feel no pity for this inhuman monster; and should he resist, there is every hope that he will be killed in the fight. Sir Robert Napier declined to grant any conditions whatever, demanding an instant surrender of the whole of the prisoners and of the fortress, promising only that Theodore and his family should be honourably treated. With this answer the two captives returned, but came back again at three o’clock with a message from Theodore, begging that better terms might be offered him. Sir Robert Napier was most reluctantly obliged to refuse, and the captives again returned amidst the sorrowful anticipations of the camp. At half-past six, to the great joy of all, Mr. Flad came in with the news that the captives would all be in in an hour; and at seven the whole of them came in safe and sound, with the exception of Mrs. Flad and her children. She, being unable to walk, had been left behind by the carelessness or haste of Rassam, to whom the business had been intrusted by Theodore. This person, Rassam, is very unpopular among the rest of the prisoners; the only person who seems to have liked him being Theodore himself, to whom his demeanour, so different from that of Prideaux and Blanc, had to a certain extent ingratiated him. I trust that to-morrow will see Mrs. Flad and her children safe in the camp, and then one of the objects of our expedition will have been completely and satisfactorily attained. Theodore has until mid-day to surrender Magdala; and if he does not do so, we shall storm it to-morrow night or next day. Some more scaling-ladders are in process of preparation, the materials being the long bamboo dhoolie-poles for the sides, and the handles of pickaxes for the rungs. The ladders are about five feet wide and twenty long.

I close this letter now; but anticipate that my next, describing the fall of Magdala, will be in time for the same post by which this reaches England.

April 12th.

Contrary to expectation, the day has passed-off without event. One reason for this was, that Mrs. Flad and her children were still in Theodore’s hands, as also were some of the European workmen. At two o’clock, however, they came in; and we have now the whole of the captives safe in our hands. We have quite a native camp within our own, indeed, so large is the number of their attendants and following. The principal English prisoners have done very well with the money constantly supplied to them; but many of the German workmen have a miserably pinched and starved appearance. There are several half-castes among the party that have come in; their fathers being English or other Europeans who have resided in Abyssinia, their mothers natives. The natives who have come in have an idea that wearing a piece of red cloth round the head is a sign of friendliness to us, and they therefore are generally so adorned. The released captives start to-morrow for England. Theodore this morning sent down a thousand cattle and five hundred sheep as a propitiatory offering; but Sir Robert Napier refused to receive them, and has sent-in a renewed demand for the surrender of the fortress. It has been all day thought that the assault would take place to-night, or rather at daybreak to-morrow. No orders have, however, yet been issued, and it is now believed that the attack will take place to-morrow, in which case it is doubtful whether any description of the affair will reach you, as I had hoped, by this mail.

Ten o’clock P.M.

I have just received certain information that the attack is postponed. Sir Robert Napier, one of the kindest-hearted of men, has sent-off a letter this evening to Theodore, urging him to surrender, with a promise that his life shall be spared, and the lives of all his men. He has pointed out to him that his men cannot possibly resist our superior weapons; that cannon greatly superior to those we used in the fight of Good Friday have now arrived, and also the rest of our forces; so that our success is certain. He has therefore implored him to surrender, and to save any further effusion of blood, if not for his own sake, at any rate for that of the women and children, of whom alone it is said that there are 7000 in the fortress. I most earnestly trust that Theodore will consent to the appeal. Of course, the effusion of blood is to him, who only three days ago murdered 350 men, a matter of small moment. Still his own courage is failing. He yesterday, when he heard of the terms demanded, pretended to attempt to commit suicide, and fired a revolver close to his head; but the ball only grazed his neck. This, however, shows that his courage is failing: a brave man will never commit suicide; still less will he, if driven by desperation to the act, inflict only a slight wound upon himself. It is evident that he is now afraid; and I trust that to save his own miserable life he will surrender, and so save the butchery that must ensue if we storm Magdala.

To-day being Easter Sunday, we had, as usual, a church-parade, and our chaplain read the thanksgiving for our success, in which I am sure all will heartily join.

Before Magdala, April 14th.

When I closed my letter of the 12th, I mentioned that Sir Robert Napier had written to Theodore, urging him most strongly to surrender, as he had no possibility of a successful resistance; and the destruction of life, if we were to open fire upon Magdala, would be terrible.

On the next morning several of the principal chiefs came into camp, and said that they could not fight against our troops, and would therefore surrender. They held, with their people, Fahla and Salamgi, and would hand-over these fortresses to us, on condition that themselves and their families were allowed to depart with their property unharmed. With them came Samuel, a man who has been frequently mentioned in connection with the prisoners, both in their own letters and in Dr. Beke’s work. This man exercised a strongly prejudicial influence at the early period of their captivity, but has since shown them kindness. Having been one of Theodore’s principal advisers, one could hardly have expected to see him deserting his master in his adversity. Samuel is a strongly-built man, with remarkably intelligent features, and rather grizzly iron-gray hair, which he wears in its natural state, and not plaited and grease-bedaubed in the Abyssinian fashion. Sir Robert Napier accepted the surrender, and gave permission for the departure of their families and effects. Captain Speedy was ordered to return with them, with fifty of the 3d Native Cavalry, under Colonel Locke. Orders had been previously given for the whole of the troops to parade on the flat in front of the fortress. In half an hour after the departure of the cavalry, the troops were formed up, and made an imposing show, the first we have had since we landed. Hitherto the brigades have been separated, and so large a portion of them have been scattered along the line of baggage, that we have never had an opportunity of seeing our real force. We could now see that it was a very formidable body. The 33d were drawn up 750 strong; the 4th, 450; the 45th, 400. We had now the whole of the Beloochees, their left wing having arrived during the night, and the whole of the Punjaubees. We had two companies of the 10th Native Infantry, and six companies of Sappers and Miners – altogether a very complete body of infantry. We had Murray’s Armstrong battery, two seven-inch mortars, Penn’s Mountain Train of steel guns, Twiss’s Mountain Train, and the Naval Rocket Brigade – a very respectable corps of artillery. In cavalry alone we were wanting, having only the fifty troopers of the 3d Native Cavalry, who had come as the Commander-in-chief’s escort, and who had now just reached the top of the crest of Fahla. The rest of the cavalry – namely, the 3d Dragoons, 3d and 12th Native Cavalry and Scinde Horse – had been sent round into the valley to cut off Theodore’s retreat. General Staveley was, of course, in command of the division. We moved forward, headed by the 33d, to whom, as having – of the European regiments – borne the brunt of the advance work throughout, was now assigned the honour of first entering and of placing the British flag upon Magdala. They were followed by the 45th, Murray’s and Twiss’s battery, and the rest of the second brigade, which had not had an opportunity of taking part in the action on Good Friday. Then came the 4th and the rest of the 1st brigade, with the exception of the troops who were left behind to take care of the camp. Major Baigrie, as quartermaster-general of the 1st division, rode in advance.

As the long line wound up the steep ascent in Fahla the effect was very pretty, and elicited several remarks that this was our Easter-Monday review. On the way up we met a large number of men, women, and children upon their way down. Once upon the shoulder which connects Fahla and Salamgi, we found ourselves in the midst of a surprising scene. A perfect exodus was in progress. Many thousands of men, women, and children were crowded everywhere, mixed up with oxen, sheep, and donkeys. The women, children, and donkeys were laden with the scanty possessions of the inhabitants. Skins of grain and flour, gourds and jars of water and ghee, blankets for coverings and tents – these were their sole belongings. It was a Babel of noises. The women screamed their long, quavering cry of admiration and welcome; men shouted to each other from rock to rock; mothers who had lost their children screamed for them, and the children wailed back in return; sheep and goats bleated, and donkeys and mules brayed. It was an astonishing scene. All seemed extremely glad to see us, and to be relieved from the state of fear and starvation in which they had existed; men, women, and children bent until their foreheads touched the ground in token of submission. The men who bore no arms carried burdens, as did the women; but the warriors only carried their arms. The number of gaudy dresses among the latter was surprising, and their effect was very gay and picturesque. Shirts of red, blue, or purple brocade, with yellow flowers, and loose trousers of the same material, but of a different hue, were the prevailing fashion with the chiefs. These were distinguished from the soldiers by having silver ornaments upon their shields. At present all retained their arms; but the 10th Native Infantry had been left at the foot of the hill with orders to disarm them as they came down the road. All along our march over Salamgi this extraordinary scene continued; and we saw more people than we have seen during the whole time we have been in Abyssinia. The general opinion is, that there could not have been less than thirty thousand people congregated here; and I believe that this computation is rather under than over the mark.