With Wolseley to Kumasi: A Tale of the First Ashanti War

“Where from?” he asked politely. “We’ve recently had a brush with the natives. Can you give us news?”

“They’ve been in the thick of it,” suddenly exclaimed the other. “Look at the young fellow. He’s covered with blood, and the boat’s cut to pieces; the sides are in ribbons. Why, it must be young Stapleton, about whose safety there has been such a commotion.”

“And the fellow’s done, done altogether,” said the other. “Who are you, sir?”

“Dick Stapleton, sir. Just got through from up country. We met a whole army, about to cross the Prahsu. We got through with some difficulty, as they were already afloat. We’re dead beat, sir, but I can’t sleep till my store of gold is looked to. It’s worth something. Can you help?”

Dick was weary and done up. He had realised that long ago, but the need for effort had kept both pluckily at their posts. Now, however, with the all-protecting arm of the British Navy to watch over them, the desire for sleep was irresistible. Their eyes were more than half closed. And they winked suspiciously when they attempted to look at any one object for long.

“Sergeant of the guard! Put a couple of men aboard at once,” came the order. “Mr Hilden, oblige by going down to the launch and making an inventory. Glad to see you, Mr Stapleton. We’ll talk later. Meanwhile come aboard and leave the gold. It shall be well taken care of. Help him up, my man, and bring him along under the awnings.”

A friendly and firm arm helped Dick from the launch, while another tar took Johnnie in charge. Our hero was almost carried to the deck above and was straightway popped into a hammock. Then some one held a glass to his lips. He drank, and at once fell asleep. He had earned a rest and determined to enjoy it.

Chapter Twelve.

In Home Waters

“’Ello! Awake, me ’earty! Blow me, but you’ve jest slept the clock right round! What time o’ day is it? Nine o’clock, or thereabouts. ’Taint no use a givin’ it to yer in bells, ’cos you ain’t no sailor. You’ve slept the clock round, Mr Stapleton, and you’ve laid there since yesterday mornin’, a-sleepin’ like a infant. ’Twasn’t no use a-tryin’ to stir yer up, though the skipper – the Commodore that is – did ’ave a try. ’E’s jest jumpin’ to get yer news about these darkies. But yer wouldn’t stir. Yer jest kind er growl, and then yer was off agin. Swop me, but yer must ’ave been tired!”

“I was – dead beat,” agreed Dick, looking out from the hammock, and noticing that he was aboard the war vessel, and still lying under an awning. Indeed, at first he could recollect nothing, not even the fight with the Ashantis, to such a point had exhaustion carried him. And now, when he stirred and opened his eyes, it was to see a burly sailor, a British Jack tar, staring at him with a huge smile on his good-humoured face.

“Thet’s jest what the skipper says. He sees it ain’t no use a botherin’ yer, and so ’e jest leaves yer to it. ‘Put a nurse on him,’ he calls out to the chief. ‘See as ’e’s taken care of.’ And so ’ere I am, actin’ kind of nurse. ’Ow do yer feel, Mr Stapleton, sir?”

“Hungry! My word, I am hungry. You say I’ve slept the clock round. Then there’s no wonder that I want something. How’s the launch?”

“Safe and sound, sir, and the gold, too. Swop me, but where did it all come from? You must ’ave been busy to dig all that. But you’re ’ungry. I’ll send down to the gunroom. Officers is ’aving their breakfast, and there’ll be a peck for you.”

He was an amusing fellow, this rough salt, and a capital nurse he had made. He went to the rail of the upper deck, and sang out to the sergeant of the guard, a marine, whose man paced the beat below.

“Mr Stapleton’s compliments,” he called out. “He’s awake and feels mighty hungry.”

Dick heard the sergeant turn away, and then crawled from his hammock. Only then did he look at his clothing and his hands, and he was horrified, for he was still the grimy object he had been when, twenty-four hours before, he had come aboard the vessel. He was stiff and sore all over. He limped to the rails, and looked down on to the lower deck. Scores of marines and sailors were tumbling up, chattering and calling to one another, and amongst them was Johnnie, as lively as a sand-boy, and quite at home with all the crew. Indeed, he was in a small way a hero, and had made the most of his wakeful hours, yarning to the tars. Dick nodded down to him, and returned the salutes of the men as they touched their caps to him. Then he turned red under the grime, for a lusty fellow jumped to the railings and seized his cap.

“Three cheers for Mr Stapleton, the gentleman what’s jest come down the Pra all alone,” he cried. “Three of them, boys, and heartily!”

“Silence, please. Higgens, direct Mr Stapleton to the spare cabin and see to him. Thank you, lads, we like to see a plucky act recognised.”

It was an officer who spoke, and at his word the men gave another cheer and departed, while Dick, still somewhat overcome at the honour done him, followed the mess servant who had appeared, and went down to a cabin. Here he stripped off his rags, and was invited to pass through a narrow doorway to the bath. When he emerged, dripping and feeling wonderfully fresh, there was the mess servant waiting to give him a rub-down, and to help him to dress, for his shoulders were now excessively stiff, while his knee was very painful. He was, in fact, sore all over. But his joy at being amongst friends was great, and he made light of the pain.

“Mr Hilden’s compliments, sir, and he thinks these garments will be about the size. He hopes you will make use of them.”

The servant, who was one of the marines, held out a suit of white, and Dick gladly availed himself of the clothing. There was a complete change of linen also, and when at length he hobbled from the cabin he was looking spruce and neat again – a clean young Englishman, modest of manner, well grown, and with that air of quiet determination which is so common to young men of our race, and which sat so well on him. No one would have thought that this young fellow had been up-country in a responsible position, and that he had so recently had such a tussle with the natives.

“What shall I do with these?” asked the servant, politely, smothering a smile as he pointed to Dick’s discarded rags.

“Throw them overboard, or burn them, please,” was the smiling answer, “and – er – er – ”

“James, sir.”

“Well, James, is there anything – ?”

“Breakfast waiting, sir. Yes, sir. This way. The officers are waiting.”

He led the way to the gunroom, and in another minute our hero was limping across the polished boards to where a long table was placed between two of the guns. There were a dozen officers there, more or less, and they at once rose to greet him.

“Glad to see you about again, Stapleton,” said one, who looked as if he were the senior. “Let me introduce my friends. Officers of H.M.S. Rattlesnake, Mr Stapleton; Dick Stapleton, I think.”

He said the last with a pleasant smile, while Dick bowed to those present.

“Dick Stapleton, I think,” repeated the officer. “We all know that. The ship rings with the name. That dark fellow of yours has been telling some secrets. Let me congratulate you. It is seldom we hear of such an escape, and it is fine to come across a young fellow who, alone up-country, has been able to hold his own so handsomely. ’Pon my word, you’ve done well.”

Dick went as red as the cummerbund about his waist, and felt horribly confused. Then, at the invitation of the officers, he sat down, and forgetting all else for the moment enjoyed the good things put before him, and the excellent company in which he found himself. For there are none jollier than naval officers, none more hospitable. Their gallantry has long, long ago been proved to all the world.

“As soon as you are ready we will go to the Commodore,” said the officer who had before addressed himself to Dick. “I may say that he is simply itching to hear your news. You see, it’s important. We’ve had a brush with the natives, and it has been a nasty business. There’s a big disturbance going on, and the war has regularly started. We expect Wolseley here very soon – General Sir Garnet Wolseley, you know. A fine soldier, and just the officer for a job of this kind.”

Dick opened his eyes in astonishment. He had already gathered that there was some trouble afoot. Indeed, when he sailed up the Pra with Mr Pepson there had been ugly rumours in the air. Some had warned the members of the expedition that it would be folly to go just then. Others had said that there was always trouble threatening; that it was a condition which had become practically chronic on the Gold Coast, and that King Koffee was always a thorn in the flesh, feared by Fantis and white men alike, and always liable to make a raid on the coast. So it had been for a long while, and he who hesitated to march into the forest on that account was weak. But from his own experience he knew that they had actually gone on the war-path, and now he heard that the Navy had had an action with them.

“And there is to be a regular war?” he asked in amazement. “Sir Garnet Wolseley is coming, and troops, too, I suppose?”

“Yes, there will be troops, and some are already here. It is to be a regular invasion. This fellow, King Koffee, has become too troublesome and too formidable. His men are here on the coast, and the neighbourhood of Elmina is in his hands. We are in a tight corner, and shall remain so till the reinforcements arrive. Then we shall march to Kumasi and burn the wasp out. That’s it precisely, Mr Stapleton. This king thinks that he can dictate terms to the white men. He has a few captives, and thinks that because he beat a white force years ago, he can repeat the process. He wants a lesson, and we’re here to give it to him. Have you finished? Please do not let me hurry you, but if you only knew the anxiety of our Commodore, I think you would forgive any undue haste on our part. Our Commodore has been fretting at the unavoidable delay. Of course you could not help that. Any one could see that you were dog tired. Yes, this way, now up the ladder and along the deck. Sentry, my compliments to the Commodore, and say that I have brought Mr Stapleton.”

A few seconds later the two were ushered into the wardroom of the Rattlesnake, and Dick found himself bowing before the Commodore, J.E. Commerell, V.C., C.B., who came forward to shake him by the hand. There were two other officers present, and it was evident by the expression on their faces that they were eagerly awaiting news from the interior.

“This is a serious business, Mr Stapleton,” said the Commodore, motioning Dick to a seat at the wardroom table. “I heard that you have encountered an Ashanti army, and I have information that they were on their way to attack the Assims, a tribe friendly to ourselves. Tell me all about this meeting, please, and also what other frays you may have had with the enemy; for I have also had mentioned to me the fact that you have had more than one skirmish.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” answered Dick. “I went up-country some weeks ago with my employers and some Fanti boatmen. Also we took a native stoker, Johnnie, who is here now, and has proved a splendid fellow. We were attacked by Ashanti robbers on the way up, and our Fantis were in league with them. We beat them off and went on to the mine for which we were making. There was a stockade there, and as soon as we had settled matters I was left in charge of the place and of the miners. A few days ago, I cannot exactly remember how many, for after being awake so long and then sleeping the clock round I am rather confused – still, it is only a few days ago that the same leader who had previously attacked our boats, made an attempt to take the stockade, and failed owing to the pluck of the miners and to the watchfulness of Johnnie. But they hemmed us in, and we knew that they expected two hundred Ashantis to reinforce them.”

“You knew? Excuse me, Mr Stapleton, but how could you know that when you were, according to your own description, hemmed in the stockade? Did they shout the news so as to frighten your men?”

The Commodore leaned across the table, and put the question, while he looked closely at his guest. Dick flushed again, for he felt ill at ease in this atmosphere of the wardroom, with officers listening so intently to his words.

“It was through an accident, you see, sir,” he said. “It happened that when the attack was made, I was out in the forest scouting for the enemy, for we had seen a small force in our neighbourhood a little time before.”

“Then you had taken precautions against attack, I imagine?” interrupted the Commodore. “You had set a watch, so as not to be taken unawares?”

“And yet they took me by surprise, sir. They came up from the other side, and as I was in the forest I did not know of their presence till I heard firing. Yes, we had taken precautions. Johnnie was on the watch at the stockade, and the men had been warned, and had been trained as to their action in case of attack. A tom-tom was beaten, and they simply ran to the stockade and banged the door. Then they peppered the enemy, with excellent results.”

“Meanwhile you were in the forest, cut off from your men?”

“Yes, sir. But I managed to creep through during the night, and, thanks to the fact that I can now understand the Ashanti tongue and speak it a little, I learned of these reinforcements on my way through.”

“And you got through without incident?”

“Hardly,” admitted Dick, telling them quietly how he had been followed, and had had to fight for his life, and how he had been rescued when on the point of being dragged away to captivity. “After that we fooled them,” he said easily. “We sent out a party to the front, the direction from which their attack had come, while we made preparations to slink off in the opposite direction. The party retired over the hill with the gold, while I went on firing for a time. We had our launch in hiding in a creek some little distance away, and we got safely aboard her and set off down the river, towing the men in a native boat. Later we paid off our men and hid the boat. Then we steamed down-stream and had the bad luck to meet with an Ashanti army. They peppered us hotly, and, in fact, nearly cut us off. There were two big war boats which were the greatest danger, and aboard one was a native with a big gun, firing a heavy bullet. He shot our tiller away at a critical moment. But we used the stoking rod, and – and here we are.”

“Quite so, Mr Stapleton, here you are,” said the Commodore, with a pleasant little smile. “But you will excuse me. As a naval officer, I would like to hear how it is that you are here at all. You had an army to contend with. They were in boats. There were two large war craft, and a man with an elephant gun, a small cannon in fact. Your tiller was shot away, and I have noticed that your funnel is perforated. Your boat is marked with slugs from bow to stern, and there are some pounds of slugs and pebbles on the decks or embedded in the woodwork. You had one stoker with you. Two for a crew to man the vessel and fight her. This requires a little more explanation.”

Willingly would Dick have escaped further conversation, for the reader must recollect that he was unused to this official atmosphere, and felt more than overawed by the presence of the officers, looking so keen and spruce. However, there were friendly smiles to encourage him, and he blurted out his news.

“Oh, we ran for the far side of the river, firing as we went,” he said. “Then there was a chance. A war boat left a gap behind her and we slipped into it. But they can back their boats by simply turning on their heels and reversing their paddles, and so she came right across us. But we let ’em have it broadside on and crumpled ’em up. A few clung to us or jumped aboard, but we shot one or two, and Johnnie hit the rest over the head with his shovel. Then the fellow with the gun got our range again, and it looked a little nasty for a while. But we shot him, and then – well, here we are.”

There was a hearty laugh at his words and at the obvious confusion under which he laboured. But the Commodore soon straightened his features and again asked a very pertinent question.

“If you please,” he said sweetly, “who are ‘we’? You say ‘we’ all the way through. We left the stockade; we paid the men off; we fitted the stoking bar as a tiller; we steered the launch over the war boat; and we shot the man with the gun when things began to look nasty. Do you mean that you and Johnnie did these things together?”

Then our hero was compelled to give the details, while the perspiration poured from his forehead. For if he was brave, he was undoubtedly modest.

“And now I will tell you what has happened here,” said the Commodore. “But first I must thank you for very valuable information, and at the same time congratulate you on your very plucky conduct. ’Pon my word, gentlemen, we should be delighted had he been one of our service. It would have been a fine feather in our caps to be able to send such a report home to the authorities. But now, my news. You may have seen some of us wearing slings and bandages. We have good reason for doing so, for three weeks ago we went up the river Pra to discuss matters with some of these natives who seemed inclined to be turbulent. They met us in a friendly manner, but higher up, as our boats were being towed closer to the bank and within easy range, an ambush of some thousand natives opened fire upon us. We were in a hopeless condition, for we could not attack, and could hardly retire. But we managed to draw away, and returned to the ship with many poor fellows injured. Later we shelled the town where the ambush had been laid and smashed it to pieces. About the same time some of our men were ill-treated by the natives higher up the river, and I regret to say that in all we lost four of our brave fellows, while twenty of us were wounded, including six officers. However, we are all recovering. But the range was close, and a blow on the ribs is no laughing matter.”

The Commodore moved uneasily, and it was then that Dick noticed an unusual bulging of his coat and shirt, for in these hot parts all wore the lightest clothing. In fact, the Commodore had been very seriously injured by the murderous fire of the natives.

“There has been more trouble since,” went on the Commodore, “but we have not had the worst of it. We have realised that the time for talking has passed, and we have given these unfriendly natives a sample of our wares. We have shelled towns and villages where the people were hostile. But they are that everywhere. The bush swarms with enemies, and there can be no doubt that we are face to face with a war of moderate proportions. In that war, Mr Stapleton, you will be able to play a prominent part, for you can speak both the Fanti and Ashanti dialects, and you have some knowledge of the country. I shall ask you to take a letter to the Lieutenant-Governor at Cape Coast Castle, in which I will repeat what I have just said. But perhaps you would rather not aid the troops; perhaps you will want to return home, in which case Her Majesty’s forces will be the losers.”

“I cannot say, sir,” was the answer. “Till I see my friends and ascertain their wishes I am unable to decide. Indeed, I am not my own master. May I press on at once, for I am anxious to get to them and hand over the gold. Besides, when they hear of this trouble, they will be wondering what has happened to their mine.”

“And I think also to the young manager who was put in charge. Certainly, Mr Stapleton, you are at liberty to push on any time. I have had your launch replenished with coal, and provisions shall be placed aboard her. You will hardly need a crew, I should say, seeing that you have brought her all this way with one man only and have now no enemies to fear. But let me warn you. You must on no account put into Elmina. The neighbourhood is in the hands of the enemy. The Elminas there have proved false, and have thrown in their lot with the enemy. An attack in force was made on the town and beaten off, five hundred of the enemy being killed. You would be fired on, not that that would matter much now, for you must be used to the experience, but it might be awkward. Push straight on for Cape Coast Castle.”

He said the words with a friendly smile and a twinkle of amusement, while he gripped Dick by the hand. There was no doubt, in fact, that he was as impressed with the modestly described tale of Dick’s adventures as were the crew with the lurid accounts which Johnnie had given them. And his comrades in ward and gun rooms endorsed his opinion. It was long since they had met with such pluck and determination, or with one who carried his honours so easily and unconsciously.

“It’s what I like to see,” said the Commodore, as his guest left the cabin. “No side, like some of these civilians of youthful age. No pomposity when speaking of the natives or of men in a lower station. Good sense all through. Politeness and good temper, which show the gentleman; and plenty of grit. My word, Hilden, a fellow in our service would deserve promotion for such conduct.”

Half an hour afterwards there was a commotion aboard the Rattlesnake as Dick prepared to leave. A right hearty farewell was given him, and numerous invitations to come again, such is the geniality and hospitality of the Navy. The sailors and marines had again congregated on the deck, for they love to see an officer who has done well, and never spare their praise where it is merited. And down below, standing in the launch, was Johnnie, waving to his bosom friends above, his short clay pipe gripped between his sharp white teeth, and emitting now the aroma of a different brand of tobacco, the powerful, far-penetrating scent of Navy shag, the smoke which tries the stomach of the raw recruits. Johnnie was unaltered in appearance, save that he had had a wash. A bucket and a piece of soap had transformed him sufficiently, and he stood there below in his old clothing, looking just as he did at the stockade, save that the garments were now more ragged and stained, while there was a huge rent extending up one leg to the knee. The wound on his cheek was there, covered with a piece of strapping, which gave it unusual and ghastly proportions. Johnnie was undoubtedly proud of that wound, and thought no more of lost beauty. He laughed and chattered, and seeing Dick about to descend, called out a final farewell to his late entertainers.

“Golly! you come all to Sierra Leone and see how Johnnie do for yo! Plenty eat, plenty drink, and all berry glad yo come. Dance and sing, play de banjo or flute. Yes, yo come, and Massa Dick be dere to meet yo. S’long, yo boys; glad we meet.”

There was a roar from the deck above.

“So long, cocky. If yer get tired o’ stokin’ that ’ere kettle, jest apply aboard this here ship. Plenty of baccy and grub, cocky, and you’ll be welcome. And, Johnnie,” one of the voices suddenly broke in, silencing the others, “when yer come again with Mr Stapleton, jest remember that quids is scarce aboard this here ship. Jest tip ’im the wink and bring aboard a few of them ’ere bags o’ gold. We could do with a little extry pay and allowances.”

That brought forth another roar, and a cheer as Dick took his place at the tiller, a tiller which now, thanks to the kindness of the Commodore and the skill of the carpenter, had been refitted.

“Cast off!” cried Dick. “Ahead. Let ’er have it. Sound that whistle, Johnnie.”

They went away from the side of the Rattlesnake with a rush, and were soon steaming along the coast, increasing their distance from their late friends rapidly. Then they set their eyes towards Elmina and Cape Coast Castle, which they hoped to reach before night. Presently they sighted the fort at Elmina, with the native town and the expanse of cleared ground, precautions which the Dutch had taken against fever, but which, in spite of the example thus set them, and the crying need, the English had not yet attempted at Cape Coast Castle. Then they steamed on along the coast, rising and falling with the swell, while the music of the surf as it fell on the sandy beach came to their ears. In due course they sighted the huge, irregular erection known as the Castle, and very soon the launch was moored off the beach. Dick signalled for a surf-boat and in half an hour had reached the shore, taking with him his store of gold. There were plenty of native porters about, and he hired six, who at once took up the bags. Then the procession set off, and crossing the bridge which separates the native town from the European settlements, turned its steps towards the house in which Mr Stapleton had lived. No one was out as the party arrived, so Dick had the bags piled on the edge of the verandah. He had a little money with him, and therefore was able to dismiss the carriers. Then he pulled at the bell, while he stood on the verandah keeping guard over the gold. There was a shuffling of feet, and a few seconds later a tall, slim figure emerged from the main room, and gave vent to a cry of amazement.