Our voyage has not terminated so uneventfully as it began, and I am no longer writing on board the General Havelock, but on the Salsette, a very fine Peninsular and Oriental steamer, having a portion of the 33d regiment from Kurrachee on board, and having the Indian Chief, with another portion of the same regiment, in tow. This Red-Sea navigation is a most intricate and dangerous business, and this western shore is in particular completely studded with islands and coral-reefs. These islands differ entirely in their character—some are bold rocks rising perpendicularly from the water with rugged peaks and fantastic outlines, and attaining an elevation of two or three hundred feet; others, far more dangerous, are long flat islets, rising only two or [pg 33]three feet above the sea, and imperceptible on a dark night at a distance of fifty yards. Still others, again, most dangerous of all, have not yet attained the dignity even of islets, although millions of little insects work night and day to bring them up to the surface. These are the coral-reefs, which, rising from a depth of many fathoms to within a few feet of the surface, form so many pitfalls to the unsuspecting mariner. The General Havelock was running along the coast with a favourable breeze, and we had been all the morning watching the low shore, with its stunted bushes and the strangely-conical hills which rise from it, bearing a fantastic resemblance to haycocks, and barns, and saddles, and with a mighty range of mountains in the distance. These mountains had a strange interest to us, for among and over them we have to go. They were our first sight of Abyssinia, and were by no means encouraging as a beginning. In this way we spent the morning, and after lunch were about to resume doing nothing, when we were startled by hearing the man who was standing in the chains heaving the lead, shout out, “Five fathoms!” His call two minutes before had been ten fathoms. The captain shouted “Stop her!” “Turn her astern!” and the chief engineer leapt below to see the order carried out. In the momentary pause of the beat of the screw, the leadman’s voice called out “Two fathoms!” The screw was reversed, and a rush of yellow foaming water past the side of the ship told us at once that it was at work, and that the sandy bottom was close to her keel. Very gradually we stopped, and were congratulating ourselves on the near shave we had had, when, looking over her side, we saw that, vigorously as the screw was working astern, the ship remained just where [pg 34]she was. The General Havelock was palpably ashore. At first we were disposed to make light of the affair, for, grounding as she did imperceptibly, we imagined that she would get off with little difficulty. Accordingly we first worked ahead, then astern, but with an equal absence of result. The head and stern both swung round, but she was fast amidships, and only moved as on a pivot. The troops were now ordered on deck, and were massed, first aft and then forward; but the General Havelock gave no sign. Then it was resolved to roll her, the men running in a body from side to side. Then we tried to jump her off. The whole of the Europeans and sepoys were set to jump in time—first on one side, and then on the other. A funnier sight, eighty men, black and white, leaping up and down, and then going from side to side, could not be conceived. Everyone laughed except those who swore when their naked feet were jumped upon by the thick ammunition-boots of some English soldier. Presently the laughter abated, for everyone was getting too hot even to laugh. The scene was strangest at this time, and reminded me, with the leaping figures, the swarthy skins, and the long hair, more of a New Zealand war-dance than anything I had ever seen. Hours passed in experiments of this sort, but still the General Havelock remained immovable, only when the sun went down and the wind rose she rolled almost as heavily as if afloat, and lifted on the waves and fell into her bed with a heavy bump which was very unpleasant. Boats were now lowered and soundings taken, and it was found that the water was deeper on nearly every side than at the exact spot upon which we had struck. Hawsers were got out and the men set to work at the capstan; but the anchors only drew [pg 35]home through the sandy bottom, and brought up branches of white coral. Part of the crew were all this time occupied in shifting the cargo. But in spite of every effort the ship remained perfectly fast. It was evident that she would not move until a portion at least of her cargo was removed from her. While we were debating how this was to be done, for the shore on either side was a good mile distant, the wind fresh, and the boats small, an Arab dhow, which we had observed running down, anchored about a hundred yards off. The Sheik came on board, and after immense talk agreed to come alongside for three or four hours to take a portion of the cargo and the troops on board, and so to lighten our ship. When the bargain was closed, and the sum to be paid agreed upon, he discovered that there was not water enough for his boat to float alongside. The negotiations thus came to an end, and the Sheik returned to his own craft. Soon after another and larger dhow came up and anchored at a short distance. We sent off to see if he could help us, but it seemed that he had no less than seventy-two camels on board bound for Annesley Bay. How the poor brutes could have been stowed in a boat which did not look large enough to hold twenty at the very most, I cannot imagine, and they had come in that state all the way from Aden. About an hour after we had got ashore, a large steamer, which we knew by her number to be the Salsette, with a ship in tow, had passed at a distance of about three miles, and to her we signalled for assistance. She, however, passed on, and anchored with her consort under the lee of an island, and about six miles off. We had given up all hopes of aid from her, and had begun as a last resource to throw our coal overboard, when at nine o’clock in the evening we saw [pg 36]a boat approaching with a lug-sail. When she came alongside she turned out to belong to the Salsette, which had most fortunately orders to anchor at the spot where we had seen her. We found, on conversation with the officer who had come on board, that, loaded with troops as she was, it would not be safe for her to come within towing distance of us, and therefore that she must leave us to our fate, especially as we did not appear to be in any immediate danger. They kindly offered, however, to take my fellow-correspondent and myself on board, an offer which we gratefully accepted, as it was quite possible that we might not be off for another week. When we arrived on board the Salsette we were received with the greatest kindness, and before starting in the morning had the satisfaction of seeing the signal flying from the Havelock of “We are afloat.”

Relieved from all anxiety on account of our late shipmates, our servants, and our luggage, we enjoyed the run to Annesley Bay exceedingly. It is an immense bay, and, indeed, a finer harbour, once in, could hardly be imagined. The entrance, however, is intricate and dangerous. Long shoals extend for miles near its mouth, and there are several islands within the bay itself. All eyes, or rather all telescopes, were directed towards the spot which was to be our destination. My glass, one by Salomans, is a wonderful instrument for its size, and is indeed far better than any I have tried it against since I left England. My first impressions of our landing-place are, I confess, anything but pleasing. A mist hangs over the land, which excludes a view of the hills, or, indeed, of anything except the foreshore. This is a dead flat, covered with low bushes. The town consists of about fifty tents and marbuees, a large skeleton of a wooden storehouse, piles of hay [pg 37]and grain-bags, hundreds of baggage-animals, with a throng of natives wandering about. There is but one pier, and this is still in course of construction. In the harbour are anchored a dozen or so of transports and a few native dhows. Some of these dhows are occupied in transporting forage and stores from the ships to shore; and as they cannot themselves approach within a distance of a couple of hundred yards of the shore, long lines of natives transport the goods upon their heads to land. One ship is unloading mules; this she accomplishes by lowering them on to a raft, upon which they are towed with ropes to within a short distance of the shore, when the horses are pushed or persuaded to alight and walk. The Havelock came in just before sunset, about two hours after ourselves. I have not yet been ashore. The Beloochees, who arrived yesterday in the Asia and the Peckforten Castle, are landing to-day.

I had not intended to write again until the time of the departure of the next mail, as my last letter went off only yesterday morning; but two companies of the 33d regiment are to land this afternoon and to start at midnight, and as this is the first body of European troops who have landed, I think it as well to accompany them to Senafe, sixty miles distant, where Colonels Merewether and Phayre have gone up with the pioneer force. They will not advance beyond this point for some time, and I shall therefore, when I have seen the passes, return, after a few days’ stay there, to this place, which is at present the main point of interest. I should not move from it, indeed, were it not that there is [pg 38]some doubt whether the King of TigrÉ will permit us to pass. He is at present stationed near the head of the pass with a body of 7000 men, but I fancy his only object in this is to make us buy his friendship at as high a rate as possible. If he really means mischief it will be a very serious matter indeed; for, although we should of course scatter his forces easily enough, it would give us such an enormous line of march to be guarded that it would be impossible to move a step until we had completely subdued TigrÉ. I sincerely hope that this will not be the case. But another week or two will show; and in the mean time, as I shall have plenty of opportunities of writing on the subject, I must return to my present topic, which is the state of things at the landing-place here. It is not, as I said in my last, a cheerful place to look at from on board ship, but it is very far worse on landing. The pier is nearly finished, and is a very creditable piece of work indeed. It is of stone, and about 300 yards long, and is wide enough for a double line of rails. One line is already laid down, and saves an immensity of labour; for the goods are landed from the native boats, which bring them from the ship’s side, are put on to the trucks, and are run straight into the commissariat yard, which is fifty yards only from the end of the pier. Before this pier was finished everything had to be carried on shore upon the heads of the natives; and as a boat cannot approach within 300 yards of shore, owing to the shallow water, it may be imagined how slowly the work of debarcation went on. The pier is ridiculously insufficient for the purpose. Even now the ships are lying in the harbour for days, waiting for means of landing their goods, although lines of natives still supplement the pier, and pass bales of goods through [pg 39]the water on their heads. When the whole expedition is here there will be a complete dead-lock, unless a very great increase of landing accommodation is afforded. The commissariat yard is piled with enormous quantities of pressed hay, Indian and English, grain, rice, &c. They are well arranged, and in such weather as we have at present there is no fear of their taking damage from being exposed to the air, especially as the precaution has been taken to have trusses of pressed hay laid down as a foundation for the piles of grain-bags. The commissariat yard is distinguished by the fact that here only do we see women—bright-coloured, picturesquely-clad creatures, a hundred of whom have been sent across from India to serve as grinders of corn. Beside the commissariat tents are a few others belonging to the other departments, and these, with a large unfinished wooden storehouse, at which a dozen Chinese carpenters are at work, constitute the camp at the landing-place. But this is only a small portion of the whole, the main camp being a mile and a half inland; and, indeed, there are half-a-dozen small camps, a cluster of tents scattered within the circle of a mile.

The reason why the main camp was fixed at such an inconvenient distance from the landing-place was, that water was at first obtainable from wells sunk there. But this supply has ceased some time, and it would be better to concentrate the offices of the departments near the landing-place, and that every soul whose presence down here is not an absolute necessity should be sent up to Koomaylo, which is fourteen miles inland, and which is the first place at which water can be obtained. As it is, all living things, man and beast, have to depend for their supply of water upon the ships. Every steamer in harbour is at work night and day [pg 40]condensing water, the average expense being twopence-halfpenny a gallon for the coal only. The result is of course an enormous expense to the public, and very great suffering among the animals.

Leaving the camp, I proceeded to the watering-place, and here my senses of sight and smell were offended as they have not been since the days of the Crimea. Dead mules and camels and oxen lay everywhere upon the shore, and within a short distance of it. Here and there were heaps of ashes and charred bones, where an attempt had been made to burn the carcasses. Others, more lately dead, were surrounded by vultures, who, gorged with flesh, hardly made an effort to rise as we approached. One ox had fallen only a few minutes before we reached it, and several vultures were already eying it, walking round at a respectful distance, and evidently not quite assured that the animal was dead. Here and there half-starved mules wandered about, their heads down, their ears drooping, and their eyes glazing with approaching death. Some would stagger down to the sea-side, and taste again and again the salt water; many of them, half-maddened by thirst, would drink copiously, and either drop dead where they stood, or crawl away to die in the low scrub.

More miserable still was the appearance of the camels. Several native boats were unloading them at a distance of two or three hundred yards from shore. The water was not more than three or four feet deep; but when the poor beasts were turned into it most of them lay down, with only their heads above water, and positively refused to make an effort to walk to land. Some never were able to make the effort, and their bodies drifted here and there in the smooth [pg 41]water. Some of the camels had got within fifty yards of shore, and then had lain down, looking, with their short bodies and long necks, like gigantic water-fowl. Those who had been driven ashore were in little better plight. Their bones seemed on the very point of starting through their skin, and they lay as if dead upon the sand, uttering feebly the almost human moaning and complainings peculiar to the camel. Others had recovered a little. These were endeavouring to browse the scanty leaves on the bushes around. Some of these camels have been twenty days on the voyage, and during this time have been crowded together like sheep in a pen, with next to nothing either to eat or drink during the whole time. The wonder is that any of them survived it. Government suffers no loss by the death of these unfortunates, as a contractor agreed to deliver them here in a fair condition, and only those who survive the voyage, and recover something of their former strength, are accepted and paid for. At least, this is one version of the story. The other is, that they are consigned to the Land Transport Corps. That body, however, receive no intimation of their coming, and boatload after boatload of camels arrive, and wander away from the beach to die for want of the water within their reach. At a mile from the landing-place the scene is painful in the extreme. Camels and mules wander about in hundreds without masters, without anything. Here they strive for a few days’ existence by plucking scanty shoots; here they sicken and die. The scenes were frightful everywhere, but were worst of all at the watering-troughs. These were miserably-contrived things. Only ten or a dozen animals could approach at once; they were so unevenly placed, that when one end was full to overflowing there was not an inch of water at [pg 42]the other; and beside this, at a time when water was worth its weight in gold, they leaked badly. They were only supplied with water for an hour or so in the morning, and for a similar time in the evening; and in consequence the scene was painful in the extreme. There was a guard to preserve order, but order could not have been kept by ten times as many men. There were hundreds of transport animals, with one driver to each five or six of them. What could one driver do with six half-mad animals? They struggled, they bit, they kicked, they fought like wild-beasts for a drink of the precious water for which they were dying. Besides these led animals were numerous stragglers, which, having broken their head-ropes, had gone out into the plain to seek a living on their own account. For these there was no water; they had no requisition pinned to their ears, and as they failed thus scandalously to comply with the regulations laid down by the authorities, the authorities determined that they should have no water. They were beaten off. Most of them, after a repulse or two, went away with drooping heads to die; but some fought for their dear lives, cleared a way to the trough with heels and teeth, and drank despite the blows which were showered upon them. I inquired of the Land Transport Corps why these scattered mules are not collected and fed. I am told that nearly the whole of these mule- and camel-drivers have deserted and gone to Massowah. And so it is. The mules and camels are dying of thirst and neglect; the advanced brigade cannot be supplied with food; the harbour is becoming full of transports, because there are no means of taking the men inland, although there are plenty of animals; and all this because the land transport men desert. The officers of that corps work like slaves; they are up early and [pg 43]late, they saddle mules with their own hands, and yet everything goes wrong. Why is all this? One reason undoubtedly is, that the animals have been sent on before the men. A few officers and a comparatively small body of native followers are sent out, and to them arrive thousands of bullocks, thousands of mules, thousands of camels. The Arab followers, appalled by the amount of work accumulating upon them, desert to a man, the officers are left helpless. Had a fair number of officers and followers been sent on to receive the animals as they came, all might have gone well. It was simply a miscalculation. And so it is, I regret to say, in some other departments. You apply for a tent, and are told there are no bell-tents whatever arrived. You ask for a pack-saddle, and are told by the quartermaster-general that there is not a single pack-saddle in hand, and that hundreds of mules are standing idle for want of them. You ask for rations, and are informed that only native rations have yet arrived, and that no rations for Europeans have been sent, with the exception of the sixty days’ provisions the 33d regiment have brought with them. Why is this? There are scores of transports lying in Bombay harbour doing nothing. Why, in the name of common sense, are they not sent on? The nation is paying a very fair sum for them, and there they lie, while the departments are pottering with their petty jealousies and their petty squabbles.

The fact is, we want a head here. Colonels Merewether and Phayre have gone five days’ march away, taking with them all the available transport. Brigadier-General Collings only arrived yesterday, and of course has not as yet been able to set things in order. I am happy to say that General Staveley arrived last night, and I believe that he will soon [pg 44]bring some order into this chaos. The fact is, that in our army we leave the most important branch of the service to shift for itself. Unless the Land Transport Train is able to perform its duty, nothing can possibly go right; but the Land Transport Corps has no authority and no power. It is nobody’s child. The commissariat owns it not, the quartermaster and adjutant-general know nothing whatever of it. It may shift for itself. All the lÂches of all the departments are thrown upon its shoulders, and the captains who are doing the work may slave night and day; but unaided and unassisted they can do nothing. The land transport should be a mere subordinate branch of the commissariat; that department should be bound to supply food at any required point. Now, all they have to do is to join the other departments in drawing indents for conveyance upon the unhappy land transport, and then sitting down and thanking their gods that they have done everything which could be expected of them. General Staveley is an energetic officer, and will, I believe, lose no time in putting things straight. Even to-day things look more hopeful, for General Collings yesterday afternoon put the services of 200 Madras dhoolie-bearers at the disposition of the Transport Corps to supply the place of the mule- and camel-drivers who have deserted. I have therefore every hope that in another week I shall have a very different story to tell. In addition, however, to the mortality caused by the voyage, by hardships, and by bad food and insufficient water, there is a great mortality among the horses and mules from an epidemic disease which bears a strong resemblance to the cattle-plague. Ten or twelve of the mules die a day from it, and the 3d Native Cavalry lost ninety horses from it while they were here. The [pg 45]district is famous, or rather infamous, for this epidemic; and the tribes from inland, when they come down into the plain, always leave their horses on the plateau, and come down on foot. The Soumalis and other native tribes along this shore are a quarrelsome lot, and fights are constantly occurring among the native workmen, who inflict serious, and sometimes fatal, injuries upon each other with short, heavy clubs resembling Australian waddies. The washing, at least such washing as is done, is sent up to Koomaylo. Yesterday two dhoolies, or washermen, were bringing a quantity of clothes down to the camp, when they were set upon by some natives, who killed one and knocked the other about terribly, and then went off with the clothes.

Some of the ships have brought down the horses in magnificent condition. The Yorick, which has carried the horses of the officers of the 33d, is a model of what a horse-ship should be. The animals are ranged in stalls along the whole length of her main-deck, and the width is so great that there is room for a wide passage on either side of the mast. These passages were laid down with cocoa-nut matting, and the animals were taken out every day—except once when the vessel rolled too much—and walked round and round for exercise. In consequence they arrived in just as good condition as they were in upon the day of starting. While I am writing, the Great Victoria is signalled as in sight. This vessel contains, it is said, the Snider rifles, the warm clothing, the tents, and many other important necessaries. Her arrival, therefore, will greatly smooth difficulties and enable the troops to advance.

At the time that the above letter was written I had only [pg 46]been a few hours upon shore, and was of course unable to look deeper than the mere surface. I could therefore only assign the most apparent reason for the complete break-down of the transport train. The disaster has now become historical, and rivalled, if it did not surpass, that of the worst days of the Crimea; and as for a time it paralysed the expedition, and exercised throughout a most disastrous influence, it is as well, before we proceed up the country, that we should examine thoroughly into its causes.

After a searching inquiry into all that had taken place prior to my arrival, I do not hesitate to ascribe the break-down of the transport train to four causes, and in this opinion I may say that I am thoroughly borne out by ninety-nine out of every hundred officers who were there. The first cause was the inherent weakness of the organisation of the transport train, the ridiculous paucity of officers, both commissioned and noncommissioned, the want of experienced drivers, and the ignorance of everyone as to the working of a mule-train. The second cause was the mismanagement of the Bombay authorities in sending animals in one ship, drivers in another, and equipments scattered throughout a whole fleet of transports, instead of sending each shipload of animals complete with their complement of drivers and equipments, as was done by the Bengal authorities. The third cause was the grossly-overcoloured reports of the officers of the pioneer force as to the state of water and forage, and which induced the Bombay authorities to hurry forward men and animals, to find only a bare and waterless desert. The fourth reason was the conduct of the above-mentioned officers in marching with all the troops to Senafe, in direct disobedience of the orders they had received. This last [pg 47]cause was the most fatal of all. In spite of the first three causes all might, and I believe would, have gone tolerably well, had it not been for the fourth.

At Koomaylo and at Hadoda, each thirteen miles distant from Zulla, there was water in abundance, together with bushes and browsing-ground for the camels. Had the animals upon landing been taken at once to these places, and there allowed to remain until the time approached for a general forward movement of the whole army, as Sir Robert Napier had directed, everything would have gone well. The officers would have had plenty of time to have effected a thorough and perfect organisation; the men would have learnt their new duties, and would have acquired some sort of discipline; the camels could have gone to Zulla and brought out forage for the mules; not an animal need have remained at Zulla, not one have suffered from thirst; and the immense expense of condensing water for them would have been avoided, besides the saving of life of many thousands of animals. But what happened? As I have shown in the previous chapter, General Napier had said to Colonel Merewether, in his parting instructions, “It is not at all intended that this force shall take up a position upon the high land, for which its strength and composition are not fitted;” and again, he had written at the end of October, “that if the news were satisfactory, Staveley’s Brigade would sail, and upon its arrival the advance may be made.” To Colonel Phayre he had written October 9th: “It is not of course intended that Colonel Field should move to the high table-land at Dexan, &c., but shall merely take up such position as will cover the dÉpÔt and protect the cattle;” and again, in the same letter: “You will understand that it is not my desire [pg 48]to precipitate a lodgment upon the table-land, which we should have to retain too long before advancing.” General Napier, then, had been as explicit as it was possible for a man to be in his orders that no advance should take place; and he had specially said, in his memorandum of 7th September, the subject of the transport train, that “great care should be taken to prevent their being overworked.” And yet, in spite of these orders, Colonels Merewether and Phayre, together with Colonel Wilkins,—to whom the making of piers, &c., had been specially assigned by the General in his instructions to the pioneer force,—with Colonel Field and the whole of the troops, start up to Senafe on or about the 1st of December! And this at a time when two or three large transports might be expected to arrive daily! The consequences which might have been expected ensued. The unfortunate animals, the instant they arrived, were saddled, loaded, and hurried off without a day to recover from the fatigue of the voyage. The muleteers were in like way despatched, without a single hour to acquire a notion of their duties.

Senafe is five days’ march from Zulla, up a ravine of almost unparalleled difficulty.

Up and down this ravine the wretched animals stumbled and toiled, starving when in the pass, and dying of thirst during their brief pauses at Zulla; the fortunate ones dying in scores upon the way, and the less happy ones incurring disease of the lungs, which, after a few painful weeks, brought them to the welcome grave. And all this to feed Colonels Merewether and Phayre and the troops at Senafe. Cui bono? No one can answer. No one to this day has been able to offer the slightest explanation of the extraordinary course adopted by these officers. If Colonel Mere[pg 49]wether had felt it his duty to go to Senafe in order to enter into political relations with the chiefs in the neighbourhood, and to arrange for the purchase of animals and food, a small escort would have enabled him to do so. Not only was their absence disastrous to the mule-train, but it was productive of the greatest confusion at Zulla. There no one was left in command. Astounding as it may appear to every military man, here, at a port at which an amount of work scarcely, if ever, equalled, had to be got through, with troops, animals, and stores arriving daily in vast quantities, there was at the time of my arrival absolutely no “officer commanding,”—not even a nominal head. Each head of department did his best; but, like Hal o’ the Wynd, he fought for his own hand. The confusion which resulted may be imagined but cannot be described. Having thus briefly adverted to the causes which led to the breakdown of the transport train, I continue my journal.

I mentioned in my letter of two days since, that the news from the front was, that the King of TigrÉ, with an army of 7000 men, was inclined to make himself unpleasant. Our last “shave,” that of yesterday, goes into the opposite extreme, and tells us that the Kings of Shoa and Lasta have both sent to Colonel Merewether, and have offered to attack Theodore. The hostilities and the alliances of the kings of these tribes are, of course, matters of importance; but as these native potentates seldom know their own minds for many hours together, and change from a state of friendship to one of hostility at a moment’s notice, or for a fancied affront, I do not attach much importance to any of them, with the ex[pg 50]ception of the King of TigrÉ, through whose dominions we have to pass. If he allows us to pass to and fro without interference, we can do very well without the alliance of Shoa or of Lasta. We are strong enough to conquer Theodore, even if he were backed by the three kings named; and now we have got everything ready, the difference of expense between a war of a few weeks’ duration and one of twice as many months, will be comparatively trifling. As for the troops, nothing would cause such disgust as to return without doing anything, after all the preparations which have been made. I do not think, however, that it would make much difference in our movements now, even if the prisoners are given up. Of course, had they been released a year ago, in consequence of our entreaties or in exchange for our presents, we should have been contented; but now we must demand something more than a mere delivery of the prisoners. There is compensation to be made for their long and painful sufferings, and an attempt at any rate made to obtain some sort of payment for our enormous expenses. I attach, therefore, little importance to what is doing at Senafe, but consider the state of the preparations at the landing-place at Annesley Bay to be the central point of interest. For the last two days much has been done towards getting things in order. Pack-saddles in abundance have been landed. Sir Charles Staveley has disembarked, and is hard at work; and in the Land Transport Corps, in particular, great things have been done. Captain Twentyman, who is in command, laid a number of suggestions before the general, which he at once sanctioned. Fodder was strewed near the watering-place, and as the starving animals strayed down they were captured. One hundred and fifty of them were handed over to the Beloo[pg 51]chee regiment, whose men cheerfully volunteered to look after them. Tubs were obtained from the commissariat to supplement the absurdly-insufficient troughs at the watering-place, and which were only kept full of water at certain times of the day. The 200 Madras dhoolie bearers, who have been transferred to the transport, are doing good work, and there is every hope that in another week things will be straight, and the wretched stragglers who at present shock one with their sufferings be again safely hobbled in line with other animals.

The work which the officers of this corps get through is prodigious. Captains Twentyman, Warren, and Hodges, and Lieutenant Daniels, are beginning to forget what a bed is like, for they are at work and about for more than twenty hours out of the twenty-four. Indeed, I must say that I never saw a greater devotion to duty than is shown by the officers of the various departments. The quartermaster’s department, the commissariat, and others, vie with each other in the energy which they exhibit, and the only thing to be wished is that there were a little more unanimity in their efforts. Each works for himself. Whereas if they were only branches of an intendance gÉnÉrale, the heads of the departments might meet each other and their chief of an evening, each state their wants and their wishes, concert together as to the work to be performed next day, and then act with a perfect knowledge of what was to be got through. However, this is a Utopia which it is vain to sigh for. Probably till the end of time we shall have separate departments and divided responsibilities; and between the stools the British soldier will continue to fall, and that very heavily, to the ground.

I must begin my letter by retracting an opinion I expressed in my last, namely, that the defile would probably turn out a complete bugbear, as the fevers, guinea-worm, and tetse flies have done. My acquaintance with most of the passes of the Alps and Tyrol is of an extensive kind, but I confess that it in no way prepared me for the passage of an Abyssinian defile. I can now quite understand travellers warning us that many of these places were impracticable for a single horseman, much less for an army with its baggage-animals. Had not Colonel Merewether stated in his report that the first time he explored the pass he met laden bullocks coming down it, I should not have conceived it possible that any beast of burden could have scrambled over the terrible obstacles. Even now, when the Bombay Sappers have been at work for three weeks upon it, it is the roughest piece of road I ever saw, and only practicable for a single animal at once. It is in all twelve miles; at least, so it is said by the engineers, and we took, working hard, seven hours to do it; and I found that this was a very fair average time. A single horseman will, of course, do it in a very much shorter time, because there are miles together where a horse might gallop without danger. I remained at Koomaylo until the afternoon, as it was too hot to start till the sun was low. Nothing happened during the day, except the arrival of the Beloochees and Bombay Engineers. The soldiers had two or [pg 66]three more chases after the monkeys, of which there are extra ordinary numbers. I need hardly say that they did not catch any of them: a dog, however, belonging to one of the soldiers seized one for a moment, but was attacked with such fury by his companions that it had to leave its hold and beat a precipitate retreat. I have just been watching a flock or herd—I do not know which is the correct term—of these animals, two or three hundred in number, who have passed along the rocks behind my tent, at perhaps thirty yards’ distance. They have not the slightest fear of man, and even all the noise and bustle of a camp seem to amuse rather than alarm them. They are of all sizes, from the full-grown, which are as large as a large dog, down to tiny things which keep close to their mothers, and cling round their necks at the least alarm. The old ones make no noise, but step deliberately from rock to rock, sitting down frequently to inspect the camp, and indulge in the pleasure of a slight scratch. These full-sized fellows have extremely long hair over the head and upper part of the body, but are bare, disagreeably so, towards the caudal extremity. The small ones scamper along, chattering and screaming; they have no mane or long hair on the head. The old monkeys, when they do make a sound, bark just like a large dog. In the afternoon an enormous number of locusts came down the pass, and afforded amusement and diet to flocks of birds, who were, I observed, rather epicures in their way, for on picking up many of the dead bodies of the locusts, I found that in every case it was only the head and upper part of the thorax which had been eaten. I shall accept this as a hint; and in case of the starvation days with which this expedition is threatened—in addition to innumerable other evils—really coming on, I shall, when we [pg 67]are driven to feed on locusts, eat only the parts which the birds have pointed out to me as the tit-bits. I am happy to say that there is no probability of our being driven to that resource at present; for on our way here yesterday I passed considerable quantities of native cattle, and any quantity is procurable here, and as for goats they are innumerable. We bought one this morning for our servants for the sum of a rupee. The commissariat have made up their minds that all servants and followers must be Hindoos, and therefore abstainers from meat, and so issue no meat whatever in their rations—nothing, indeed, except rice, grain, a little flour, and a little ghee. Now, the fact is that the followers are generally not Hindoos. Many of the body-servants are Portuguese, Goa men; and the horse-keepers are frequently Mussulmans, or come from the north-west provinces, where they are not particular. Even the mule-drivers are Arabs, Egyptians, and Patans, all of whom eat flesh. It thus happens that the whole of our five servants are meat-eaters, and it is fortunate that we are able to buy meat from the natives for them, especially as they have really hard work to do; and in the cold climate we shall enter in another day or two meat is doubly necessary.

We had intended to start at three o’clock, but it was four before our baggage was fairly disposed upon the backs of the four baggage-animals—two strong mules and two ponies—and we were in the saddles of our riding-horses. Our route, after leaving the wells, ran, with of course various turnings and windings, in a south-westerly direction. The way lay along the bottom of the valley, a road being marked out by the loose stones being removed to a certain extent, and laid along both sides of the track. The valley for the first seven [pg 68]or eight miles was very regular, of a width of from 200 to 300 yards. Its bottom, though really rising gradually, appeared to the eye a perfect flat of sand, scattered with boulders and stones, and covered with the thorny jungle I have spoken of in a previous letter. This scrub had been cleared away along the line of road, or there would have been very little flesh, to say nothing of clothes, left upon our bones by the time we came to our journey’s end. Backward and forward, across the sandy plain, as the spurs of the hills turned its course, wound the bed of the torrent—I should think that we crossed it fifty times. It is probable that on occasions of great floods the whole valley is under water. To our left the hills, though rocky and steep, sloped somewhat gradually, and were everywhere sprinkled with bushes. On the right the mountain was much more lofty, and rose in many places very precipitously. Sometimes the valley widened somewhat, at other times the mountains closed in, and we seemed to have arrived at the end of our journey, until on rounding some projecting spur the valley would appear stretching away at its accustomed width. Altogether, the scenery reminded me very much of the Tyrol, except that the hills at our side were not equal in height to those which generally border the valleys there.

At half-past six it had become so dark that we could no longer follow the track, and the animals were continually stumbling over the loose stones, and we were obliged to halt for half-an-hour, by which time the moon had risen over the plain; and although it was some time longer before she was high enough to look down over the hill-tops into our valley, yet there was quite light enough for us to pursue our way. In another three-quarters of an hour we came upon a sight [pg 69]which has not greeted my eyes since I left England, excepting, of course, in my journey through France—it was running water. We all knelt down and had a drink, but, curiously enough, although our animals had been travelling for nearly four hours enveloped in a cloud of light dust, they one and all refused to drink; indeed, I question if they had ever seen running water before, and had an idea it was something uncanny. This place we knew was Lower Sooro, not that there was any village—indeed, I begin to question the existence of villages in this part of the world, for I have not yet seen a single native permanent hut, only bowers constructed of the boughs of trees and bushes. But in Abyssinia it is not villages which bear names; it is wells. Zulla, and Koomaylo, the Upper and Lower Sooro, are not villages, but wells. Natives come and go, and build their bowers, but they do not live there. I fancy that when there is a native name, and no well, it is a graveyard which gives the name. We passed two or three of these between Koomaylo and Sooro, all similar to those I have already described. From Lower to Upper Sooro is a distance of four miles. It is in this portion of the road that the real difficulties of the pass are situated, and I never passed through a succession of such narrow and precipitous gorges as it contains. The sides of these gorges are in many places perfectly perpendicular, and the scenery, although not very lofty, is yet wild and grand in the extreme, and seen, as we saw it, with the bright light and deep shadows thrown by the full moon, it was one of the most impressive pieces of scenery I ever saw. The difficulty of the pass consists not in its steepness, for the rise is little over three hundred feet in a mile, but in the mass of huge boulders which strew its bottom. Throughout its length, indeed, the [pg 70]path winds its way in and out and over a chaos of immense stones, which look as if they had but just fallen from the almost overhanging sides of the ravine. Some of these masses are as large as a good-sized house, with barely room between them for a mule to pass with his burden. In many places, indeed, there was not room at all until the Bombay Sappers, who are encamped about half-way up the pass, set to work to make it practicable by blasting away projecting edges, and in some slight way smoothing the path among the smaller rocks. In some places great dams have been formed right across the ravine, owing to two or three monster boulders having blocked the course of the stream, and from the accumulated rocks which the winter torrents have swept down upon them. Upon these great obstacles nothing less than an army of sappers could make any impression, and here the engineers have contented themselves by building a road up to the top of the dam and down again the other side. We were three hours making this four-mile passage, and the labour, the shouting, and the difficulties of the way, must be imagined. Of course we had dismounted, and had given our horses to their grooms to lead. Constantly the baggage was shifting, and required a pause and a readjustment. Now our tin pails would bang with a clash against a rock one side; now our case of brandy—taken for purely medicinal purposes—would bump against a projection on the other. Now one of the ponies would stumble, and the other nearly come upon him; now one of the mules, in quickening his pace to charge a steep ascent, would nearly pull the one which was following, and attached to him, off his feet; then there would be a fresh alarm that the ponies’ baggage was coming off. All this was repeated over and over again. There were shouts in English, [pg 71]Hindostanee, Arabic, and in other and unknown tongues. Altogether it was the most fatiguing four miles I have ever passed, and we were all regularly done when we got to the top. I should say that the water had all this time tossed and fretted between the rocks, sometimes hidden beneath them for a hundred yards, then crossing and recrossing our path, or running directly under our feet, until we were within a few hundred yards of Upper Sooro, when the ravine widening out, and the bottom being sandy, the stream no longer runs above the surface. Altogether it was a ride to be long remembered, through that lonely valley by moonlight in an utterly unknown and somewhat hostile country, as several attempts at robbery have been made by the natives lately upon small parties; and although in no case have they attacked a European, yet everyone rides with his loaded revolver in his holster. A deep silence seemed to hang over everything, broken only by our own voices, except by the occasional thrill of a cicada among the bushes, the call of a night-bird, or by the whining of a jackal, or the hoarse bark of a monkey on the hills above.

It was just eleven o’clock when we arrived at Upper Sooro. An officer at once came to the door of his tent, and with that hospitality which is universal, asked us to come in and sit while our tent was being pitched. We accepted, and he opened for us a bottle of beer, cool, and in excellent condition. Imagine our feelings. Brandy-and-water would have been true hospitality, but beer, where beer is so scarce and so precious as it is here, was a deed which deserves to be recorded in letters of gold. I forbear to name our benefactor. The Samaritan’s name has not descended to us; the widow who bestowed the mite is nameless. Let it be so in the pre[pg 72]sent case. But I shall never cease to think of that bottle of beer with gratitude.

My tent was now pitched; my servant procured some hot water and made some tea; and having taken that and some biscuit, and having seen that the horses were fed, I slightly undressed, lay down upon my water-proof sheet, and lighted a final cigar, when to my horror I observed many creeping things advancing over the sheet towards me. Upon examination they turned out to be of two species—the one a large red ant, the other a sort of tick, which I found on inquiring in the morning are camel-ticks. They are a lead colour, and about the size of sheep-ticks, but they do not run so fast. This was, indeed, a calamity, but there was nothing to be done. I was far too tired to get up and have my tent pitched in another place; besides, another place might have been just as bad. I therefore wrapped myself as tightly as I could in my rug, in hopes that they would not find their way in, and so went to sleep. In the morning I rejoiced greatly to find that I had not been bitten; for they bite horses and men, raising a bump as big as a man’s fist upon the former, and causing great pain and swelling to the latter.

I describe thus minutely the events of every day, because the life of most officers and men greatly resembles my own, and by relating my own experience I give a far more accurate idea of the sort of life we are leading in Abyssinia than I could do by any general statements.

Upper Sooro is a large commissariat dÉpÔt, exceedingly well managed by Conductor Crow. It is a new basin of five hundred yards long by two hundred across, a widening out of the pass. It is selected for that reason, as it is the only place along the line near water where a regiment could en[pg 73]camp. Owing to its elevation above the sea the temperature is very pleasant, except for two or three hours in the middle of the day. Another agreeable change is that the thorny bushes have disappeared, and a tree without prickles, and which attains a considerable size, has taken their place.

At seven o’clock this morning the Beloochees began to arrive, having started at midnight. The advanced guard were therefore exactly the same time doing the distance that we were. Their baggage, however, has been dropping in all day, for it was loaded on camels, and most of these animals stuck fast in the narrow passages of the pass, and had to be unloaded to enable them to get through; and this happened again and again. The pass, in fact, is not, as yet, practicable for camels; mules can manage it, but it is a very close fit for them, and it will be some time yet before camels can pass with their burdens. I suppose after to-day’s experience camels will not be again employed this side of Koomaylo until the pass has been widened. Some of the poor animals were stuck fast for a couple of hours before they could be extricated. There are now a hundred of them lying down within fifty yards of my tent. I consider the camel to be the most ridiculously-overpraised animal under the sun. I do not deny that he has his virtues. He is moderately strong—not very strong for his size, for he will not carry so much as a couple of good mules; still he is fairly strong, and he can go a long time without water—a very useful quality in the desert, or on the sea-shore of Abyssinia. But patient! Heaven save the mark! He is without exception the most cantankerous animal under the sun. When he is wanted to stand up, he lies down; when he is wanted to lie down, he will not do it on any consideration; and once down he jumps up again the moment his driver’s [pg 74]back is turned. He grumbles, and growls, and roars at any order he receives, whether to stand up or lie down; whether to be loaded or to have his packs taken off. When he is once loaded and in motion he goes on quietly enough; but so does a horse, or a donkey, or any other animal. After having made himself as disagreeable as possible, there is small praise to him that he goes on when he cannot help it. I consider the mule, which people have most wrongfully named obstinate, to be a superior animal in every respect—except that he wants his drink—to the much-bepraised camel.

A messenger passed through here yesterday from Abyssinia. He was bringing letters from Mr. Rassam to Colonel Merewether. He reports that Theodore is continuing his cruelties, and killing his soldiers in numbers. Under these circumstances one can hardly feel surprised at the news that, in spite of his efforts, he is unable to increase his army beyond seven or eight thousand men. He is still at Debra Tabor.

I arrived here only half-an-hour since, and find that the post is on the point of starting. I therefore have only time to write a few lines to supplement my last letter, which was sent from Sooro. All description of the pass between that resting-place and Senafe I must postpone to my next letter, and only write to say that there is no particular news here. The messenger from Mr. Rassam arrived in the camp yesterday. He states that the King of Shoa’s men are between Theodore and Magdala, and that there is every hope that they will take the latter place, and liberate the prisoners. The reports about the King of TigrÉ are, to a certain extent, founded on fact. He [pg 75]has professed the greatest friendship, but there are sinister reports that he really means mischief, and for two or three days the pickets have been doubled. It is not thought that there is any foundation for the report of his intention to attack us. The situation of this camp is very pleasant—upon a lofty table-land, seven thousand feet above the sea, and with a delightfully bracing wind blowing over it, and reminding one of Brighton Downs in the month of May. At night I am told that the thermometer goes down below freezing-point. The camp is situated in a slight hollow or valley in the plain; through its centre flows a stream, which when the camp was first formed was knee-deep, but has greatly fallen off since, so much so that reservoirs are being formed and wells sunk in case the supply should cease. Short as the time is before the post goes, I might have sent you more intelligence were it not that Colonels Merewether and Phayre are both absent upon some expedition in the surrounding country, and I am therefore unable to draw any news from any official source. The health of everyone up here is excellent, and the horses are suffering less from the disease which has almost decimated them in the lower ground. There are plenty of cattle brought in for sale, but unfortunately the authorities have no money to buy them with.

I wrote a few lines, upon my arrival here two days ago; but as the post was upon the point of starting, I could not do more than state that the rumours which had reached us down below respecting the King of TigrÉ were untrue, and that that monarch was at present pursuing a course of masterly inactivity. I will now, therefore, resume my [pg 76]letter at the point where my last regular communication ended—namely, at the station of Sooro, in the pass leading to this place. I do not apologise for making my description of this pass very detailed, for at present the whole interest of the expedition centres in the passage of the troops and baggage from Zulla to this point, and I feel sure that any particulars which may enable the public to picture to themselves the country through which our soldiers are marching will be read with keen interest. From Sooro to Rayray Guddy, the next regular station, is, according to the official report, twenty-eight miles; but I am convinced, and in this opinion I am borne out by every officer I have spoken to, that thirty-three would be much nearer the fact. Indeed, in every march up here the official distances are a good deal under the truth. But, indeed, the officers of the exploring force appear to have seen everything through rose-coloured spectacles. At Zulla they reported plenty of water, and they found, a short way further, an abundance of forage, which no one else has been able to discover before or since. It was on the strength of these reports of forage and water that the baggage-animals were hurried forward. I am not blaming the officers who made the reports. They simply acted as it is the nature of explorers to act. Every father thinks his own child a prodigy. Every discoverer believes that the country, or river, or lake which he has been the first to report on, is a country, river, or lake such as no man ever saw before. Over and over again this has happened, and disastrous consequences have ere now arisen from the persistent use by explorers of these rose-coloured spectacles. It is not more than four or five years—to give one example out of a thousand—since Dr. Livingstone reported that he had discovered a magnificent navigable [pg 77]river in Eastern Africa, with rice, cotton, and corn abounding upon its banks, and a climate beyond reproach. In consequence of this report the “Universities Mission” was organised, and a band of missionaries, headed by their bishop, Mackenzie, started. After months of struggle they arrived at the place of disembarkation, having already discovered that their noble stream was, at a good average time of year, about three feet deep. There they set up their mission; there, one by one, these noble fellows died of want and of fever, victims of an explorer’s rose-coloured spectacles. After that we must not grudge the few hundred mules that have fallen a sacrifice to the want of springs and forage which could be seen only through the glasses of the chiefs of the exploring party.

From Sooro to Rayray Guddy is too far a march to be made in one day along such a road as there is at present, and accordingly it is generally broken at a spot called Guinea-fowl Plain, where there is a well yielding a small supply of water, the colour of pea-soup. We had had quite sufficient of night-marching previously, and, having passed one day at Sooro, we started at ten o’clock the following morning. We had intended to have started an hour earlier; but making a start here is a very different thing from sending for a cab at an appointed time to catch a train. In the first place there are the trunks, which have been opened the night before, to close; there is the tent to strike and pack up. Then at the last moment you discover that your servants have not washed up the breakfast-things, and that your mule-wallah has not yet taken his animals to water. At last, when all is ready, comes the important operation of loading the four baggage-animals. Each load has to be adjusted with the nicest precision, or the very first piece of rough ground you arrive at, round goes the [pg 78]saddle, and your belongings come to the ground with a crash. With our two mules we have the “Otago saddle,” which is excellent. Indeed, in the opinion of almost everyone here, it is by far the best of the rival saddles. Upon these saddles we pack our own baggage, and once fairly adjusted this is pretty safe for the day. Not so the other animals, for which we have common mule-saddles. Upon these is piled a multifarious collection of bundles. Our servants’ five kits, our animals’ rugs and ropes, our tents, two sacks containing cooking-utensils and numerous etceteras, and a water-skin for use upon the road. The actual weight that these animals have to carry is not so great as that borne by the others; but the trouble of adjusting and fastening on is at least ten times as great. The loads have frequently to be taken off three or four times, and then when we think all is right, and get fairly into motion, we have not gone twenty yards before there is a gradual descending motion observed on one side of an animal, and a corresponding rise of the opposite burden, and we are obliged to stop and readjust everything, or in another minute or two the whole would have toppled over. These things ruffle the temper somewhat, and our equanimity is not improved by the intense stupidity which our native servants always manifest upon these occasions. They seem to have no eye. They heap bundles on the side which was before palpably the heaviest; they twist cords where cords can be of no earthly use: altogether they are horribly aggravating. However, by this time I am getting accustomed to these things, and take matters into my own hands, and insist on things being done exactly as I direct them. At ten o’clock, then, we were fairly off, and I do not know that I ever rode through a more monotonous valley than that between Sooro [pg 79]and Guinea-fowl Plain. It was the counterpart of that I described in my last letter as extending between Koomaylo and Lower Sooro. A dead flat of two or three hundred yards across, with the torrent’s bed winding across it, and spur after spur of mountain turning it every quarter of a mile. Some of the mountain views which we saw up the ravines were certainly very fine, but it became monotonous in the extreme after six hours’ march at the rate of little over two miles an hour. The vegetation, however, had changed since the preceding day. The thorny bush no longer covered everything, but a variety of shrubs now bordered the path, and the diversity of their foliage was a relief to the eye. Immense quantities of locusts were everywhere met with, making the ground yellow where they lay, and rising with a rustling noise, which was very discomposing to the horses at our approach. They did not eat all the shrubs, but the species upon which they fed were absolutely covered with them, and most of their favourite plants were stripped completely bare. Monkeys, or rather baboons, still abounded: we saw numerous large troops of them, which must have been over a hundred strong. It was about five o’clock when we reached Guinea-fowl Plain, which may have guinea-fowls, although we saw none; but which is most certainly not a plain, for at the place where the well is the valley is narrower than it had been for miles previously. Here we found some really large trees, and under them we pitched our tent. It was not long before our servants had fires lighted and dinner in a forward state. There were two or three other parties who had arrived before us, and, as it got dusk, all lighted fires; and, as each party, with their cooking and grooms’ fires, had at least three bonfires going, it made quite a pictur[pg 80]esque scene. The night was raw and cold, and we had a few drops of rain. It was fortunate that we had brought water with us for cooking purposes, for the water in the well was perfectly undrinkable.

The next morning we were again off early for our longest journey, that on to Rayray Guddy, where food would be procurable for horse and man, neither one nor the other being obtainable at Guinea-fowl Plain, where there is no commissariat station. We had carried our own food, and a small portion of grain for the horses; but they would have fared very badly had we not met some natives in the pass with a bundle of hay, and done a little barter with them for rice. The valley for the first twelve or fourteen miles from Guinea-fowl Plain greatly resembled in its general features that we had passed the day previously, but the vegetation became more varied and interesting every mile. We now had great trees of ivy, we had the evergreen oak, and occasionally gigantic tulip-trees. We had great numbers of a tree, or rather large shrub, of the name of which I am ignorant; its leaves more resembled the sprays of the asparagus when it has run far to seed than any other foliage I know, but the growth of the shrub was more like a yew. Upon its branches were vast quantities of a parasite resembling the mistletoe, whose dark-green leaves afforded a fine contrast to the rather bluish tint of the tree. Climbing everywhere over the trees, and sometimes almost hiding them, were creepers of various kinds; on the ground grew vast quantities of the aloe. There were, too, numerous cacti of various kinds, some thick and bulky, others no thicker than a lady’s little finger, and growing like a creeper over the trees. But, strangest of all, upon the hill-sides grew an immense plant, [pg 81]or rather tree, of the cactus tribe, which I had never seen before. It started by a straight stem fifteen or twenty feet high, and thicker than a man’s body. This branched out into a great number of arms, which all grew upwards, and to just the same height, giving it a strange and formal appearance, exactly resembling a gigantic cauliflower. I believe its name is Euphorbia candalabriensis, but do not at all vouch for this. Some of the mountain slopes were quite covered with this strange tree, but as a general thing it grew singly or in pairs. The tulip-trees were superb; they grew generally in rocky places, and with their huge twisted trunks, and glossy green leaves, and limbs more than a hundred feet long, they were studies for a painter.

At about three miles from Rayray Guddy the valley narrowed to a ravine, and we came upon running water. The pass from here to the station is steep and difficult, but nothing to that at Sooro. Having drawn our rations, and received the unwelcome intelligence that there was no hay, and only the scantiest possible amount of grain for our animals, we established our camp and went up to look at the land transport division, about a quarter of a mile higher up the valley. There were four or five hundred mules and ponies here, in good order, but hardly good condition; in fact, the work has been hard and forage scant. How hard the work has been, our journey of the two preceding days had testified. All along the line of march we had come across the carcasses of dead animals, from which great vultures rose lazily at our approach. As we approached Rayray Guddy the remains of the victims occurred much more frequently, and the air was everywhere impregnated with the foetid odour. This was only to be expected, as the poor animals had been obliged to [pg 82]endeavour to accomplish the march of thirty miles from Sooro without food, and in most cases without water. No time should be lost in forming a small commissariat dÉpÔt at Guinea-fowl Plain, where a ration of hay and grain could be served out to the animals as they pass through. The work these baggage-animals have to go through is extremely severe, and their half-starved appearance testifies that they have not sufficient food served out to them, and to expect them to do two days’ work on their one day’s scanty rations is a little too much even from mules. We found our friends who had started before us from Guinea-fowl Plain encamped up there with Captain Mortimer of the transport train. It was proposed that we should throw in our mess with them. We accordingly returned to our own encampment, took our meat and rum, our plates and knives and forks, and marched back again. In an hour dinner was ready, and in the mean time I was glad of an opportunity of inquiring how this advanced division of the transport train had got on. I found that they had, like the one down at Zulla, had the greatest trouble with their drivers. The officer complained bitterly of the class of men who had been sent out—Greeks, Italians, Frenchmen, Spaniards, the mere sweepings of Alexandria, Cairo, Beyrout, and Smyrna. The Hindoo drivers, he said, upon the whole, worked steadily, and were more reliable than the others, but were greatly wanting in physical strength. The Persians, on the contrary, were very strong and powerful men, and could load three mules while a Hindoo could load one; but they had at first given very great trouble, had mutinied and threatened to desert in a body, but, upon the application of the lash to two or three of the ringleaders, things had gone on more smoothly. The Arab drivers had [pg 83]almost all deserted. Even up here the mules still suffer from the disease which prevailed down upon the plain, and which carried off a hundred horses of the 3d Native Cavalry. It is very sudden in its action, and is in nearly every case fatal. The animals seem seized with some internal pain, arch their backs, and become rigid. In a short time the tongue grows black, a discharge takes place from the nostrils, and in a few hours, sometimes not more than one, from the time he is attacked, the animal is dead. At present, as with our cattle-disease, all remedies are ineffectual. Animals in good condition are more liable to be attacked than are the poorer ones. After dinner we returned to our tent, where, however, we did not pass a remarkably-pleasant night. In the first place, it was bitterly cold—the temperature of Rayray Guddy is indeed colder than it is here; and in the second, a mule had broken loose from its head-ropes, and came down to our encampment. Five or six times it nearly upset our tent by tumbling over the tent-ropes, in addition to which it made our horses so savage by going up among them, that we were afraid of their breaking loose. Four or five times, therefore, did we have to get up and go out in the cold to drive the beast away with stones. The grooms were sleeping at their horses’ heads, but were so wrapped up in their rugs that they heard nothing of it. The next morning it was so cold that we were really glad to be up and moving, and were on our way at a little before eight. The first six miles of the road is narrow and winding, and is as lovely a road as I ever passed. With the exception only of the narrow pathway, the gorge was one mass of foliage. In addition to all the plants I have mentioned as occurring below, we had now the wild fig, the laburnum, various sorts of acacia, and many others, [pg 84]One plant in particular, I believe a species of acacia, was in seed; the seed-pods were a reddish-brown, but were very thin and transparent, and when the sun shone upon them were of the colour of the clearest carmine. As these shrubs were in great abundance, and completely covered with seed-pods, their appearance was very brilliant. Among all these plants fluttered numerous humming-birds of the most lovely colours. Other birds of larger size and gorgeous plumage perched among the trees at a short distance from the path. Brilliant butterflies flitted here and there among the flowers.

At last we came to an end of this charming ride, and prepared for a work of a very different nature. We turned from the ravine which we had now followed for sixty miles, and prepared boldly to ascend the hill-side. As soon as we left the ravine all the semi-tropical vegetation was at an end; we were climbing a steep hill covered with boulders, between which stunted pines thrust their gnarled branches and dark foliage. We had gone at one leap from a tropical ravine to a highland mountain-side. The ascent was, I should say, at the least a thousand feet, and a worse thousand-feet climb I never had before and never wish to have again. It is a mere track which zigzags up among the rocks and trees, and which was made by the 10th Native Infantry and the Sappers, as the pioneer force rested below and had breakfast. The men effected marvels considering that it was the work of two hours only; but it is at best a mere track. Sometimes the mules mount a place as steep as a flight of stairs; then they have to step over a rock three feet high. In fact, it is one long struggle up to the top, and in no place wide enough for two mules to pass. One [pg 85]mule falling puts a stop to a whole train, and this was exemplified in our case, for we were following a long line of mules when they suddenly came to a stop. For half-an-hour we waited patiently, and then, climbing up the rocks and through the trees at the side of the stationary mules, we finally came to the cause of detention—one of the mules had fallen. The drivers had taken no efforts to remove his pack or his saddle, but were sitting by his side quietly smoking their pipes. After a little strong language we took off his saddle, got things right, and the train proceeded again. This is the great want of the transport corps—a strong body of inspectors, as they are called, volunteers from European regiments. There ought to be one of these to every ten or fifteen drivers, who, as in the present case, if not looked after by a European, will shirk work in every possible way. But this is a subject upon which I shall have much more to say at a future time. This road or path is really not practicable for the passage of mules, for, although singly they can go up well enough, if one party going up were to meet another going down, it is probable that, if no European came up to make one party or other retrace their steps, they would remain there until the last animal died of starvation. Three companies of the Beloochee regiment arrived yesterday at the bottom of the hill, and have set to work to widen and improve it; and as a party of sappers and miners have begun to work downwards from the top, the road will soon be made passable. For this hill-side is not like the pass of Sooro, which would require an incredible amount of labour to render it a decent road. There are no natural obstacles here beyond trees to be cut down and stones to be rolled away; so that by the time the main [pg 86]body of the army arrives I have no doubt that they will find a fair road up to the plateau.

At the time I closed my last letter I had no idea that my next communication would be dated Senafe. Colonel Merewether’s unaccountable refusal to allow my fellow-correspondent and myself to accompany him upon his expedition had rendered our further stay here useless.

Accordingly, an hour or two after the expedition had started from camp, I packed up a light kit and started for the sea-shore. The road, as far as the top of the first descent, is now so free from stone that it might be used as a race-course, but we found that nothing had yet been done with the zigzag down the face of the hill. However, as we met no mules upon our way it was an easy descent enough; indeed the whole pass, from end to end, although it has its difficulties, still presents no real obstacle to a single traveller. It is only when viewed in the light of a highway for an army, as the only line of communication up which the stores of 20,000 men must come, that one considers it to be a really terrible business. No forage is procurable for the baggage-animals between the sea and Senafe, seventy miles. A large proportion, therefore, of the mules is occupied in carrying food for themselves and their companions. The stages, too, for heavily-burdened animals across an exceedingly-rough road are distressingly long. Twelve miles a-day, with a pause for an hour to feed and water in the middle of the day, could be done by [pg 97]heavily-loaded mules without deterioration of their quality. But here all the stages, except the last, considerably exceed that distance; and from Sooro to Rayray Guddy, over thirty miles, is practically without food or water. This is what makes the Koomaylo Pass so difficult as the highway of an army—want of forage the whole distance, and long intervals between the watering-places; to which may be added the disease which infects the pass and decimates the animals as they go up and down. The mule, although one of the most enduring of creatures, and capable of sustaining great privations, is yet a delicate animal. Feed him well, keep him supplied with water and hay, and he will do wonders; but without regular and abundant food he falls away rapidly. During the last campaign in Italy there were thousands of mules engaged transporting provisions up the Tyrol to Garibaldi. They had great fatigue and long marches, but they were well fed and had plenty of water; and consequently throughout the campaign I never saw a dead mule, and hardly one out of condition. Here it is just the reverse; the mules are greatly fallen off, and although they are now much better fed, they will be a very long time before they regain their lost strength. In respect to food a great improvement has been effected in the last few days. Captain Sewell has been here about a week. He is in charge of the commissariat, and has purchased considerable quantities of hay, which is now served out to the mules here, and to their even worse-off brethren down at Rayray Guddy; for here, at least, in their intervals of labour the mules were able to graze, while in the valley there is not a blade of grass to be had. Captain Mortimer, indeed, who is in charge of the transport division there, only kept his animals alive by compelling their drivers to go up [pg 98]to the summit of the hills, either before their day’s work is begun or after it was over, and to cut and bring down a certain weight of hay. It is very fortunate that vultures are so abundant in this country. Were it not for them the pass would be unbearable from the taint of dead animals. Between the top of the pass and Rayray Guddy, a distance of eight miles, we passed more than that number of dead mules and ponies, most of which had been only dead three days at most; and everyone of these had been partially eaten by the vultures, who keep wheeling and circling in the air overhead, and scarcely is life out of an animal before these scavengers swoop down upon it. I have seen as many as seven or eight of these great birds eating and fighting over the carcass of a single horse. The ride from the bottom of the steep incline to Rayray Guddy I have already described, and it is certainly the most beautiful ride of seven miles I ever traversed, the brilliancy and variety of the foliage, the number and beauty of the humming-birds and butterflies, all being in addition to the ordinary scenery of a mountain pass. I find that the great trees I described as tulip-trees are not really tulip-trees, although their foliage strangely resembles that tree. Authorities differ as to what they really are; some affirming that they are banyan-trees, while others say that no banyan-tree was ever seen without the long pendulous roots from its branches, of which there are here no trace.

Upon reaching Rayray Guddy we found that Sir Charles Staveley had arrived there two hours previously from Sooro. He had not heard of the departure of Colonels Merewether, Phayre, and Wilkins, and as the principal object of his journey had been to see them, he was of course much disappointed. However, he determined now he had come so [pg 99]far, to go on to Senafe, and we decided upon returning with him, as we had now no motive for going down, and, indeed, it was possible that he might either ride out himself to the point whither Colonel Merewether had gone, or might send an aide-de-camp to request him to return, in either of which cases we knew that he would grant us permission to go. General Staveley was the more disappointed at the absence of Colonel Merewether because he had taken the precaution of writing two days previously to announce his coming. The letter, of course, had not arrived, for the general had performed the distance in three days from Zulla to Senafe, and the post would take at least two days longer. Nothing, indeed, can possibly be worse than the postal arrangements, or rather want of arrangement. Relays of men on foot carry the letters, and even these do not travel at night. But the great question which everyone is asking is, “What becomes of the letters?” I have not received a single letter or newspaper of a later date than November 4th. Some few people have been more fortunate, and occasionally get a letter or paper; but they are exceptions. One feels as absolutely cut off from England as if a great gulf had opened between us. I did hear this morning from someone who had had the luck to receive an odd newspaper that the amount for the Abyssinian war had been voted, and we had a hearty laugh over the news that the expenses were laid at four millions. I only hope that the post down is a little better regulated than that up, for if not, instead of getting my letters regularly once a-week, they will probably arrive in a mass about the end of next June. The general came up here on the 22d. He will, I believe, start on his return journey to-morrow, whether Colonel Merewether and [pg 100]his party come into camp or not, as his presence is absolutely necessary on the sea-shore. It will be unfortunate if he should miss them after his long journey up here, especially as he had made certain of seeing them; for the committee of exploration, which consisted of Colonels Merewether, Phayre, and Wilkins, was dissolved by an order of General Napier, which was published ten days since, and of which these gentlemen of course received a copy. General Napier thanked them warmly for their efforts to carry out their duty, and for the success which had attended them, but stated that General Sir Charles Staveley had gone to Zulla to take the command until he himself arrived, and that therefore there was no longer any occasion for the existence of the committee. In the face of this order General Staveley could hardly have expected that these gentlemen would have proceeded on an expedition forty miles into the interior without any consultation or reference to himself.

An important messenger came into the camp on the afternoon of the 22d. He stated that he was the servant of Mr. Flad, and, indeed, was identified as being so by several people in camp. He stated that he had started with a letter from Mr. Flad, and with one from King Theodore, but that he had been robbed of them upon the way. He brought, however, one piece of important and very disagreeable news, namely, that Theodore had marched from Debra Tabor to Magdala; had raised the siege of that place by the King of Shoa, and had taken the whole of the captives back with him to Debra Tabor. This is the most unfortunate occurrence which could possibly have taken place. As long as the captives were separated from him by his enemies they were safe; and if, as will in all probability be the case, the [pg 101]army of Theodore should disband at our approach, and he himself rule safely in the fortresses of the mountains, where search for him would be out of the question, we should have marched to Magdala and effected the release of the prisoners. Now we have no such hope. We may toil on across mountain and ravine, but we know that our hands are shackled, and that the tyrant we war against can at any moment purchase peace upon his own terms. Theodore can laugh our efforts to scorn; he knows that he need not disquiet himself. He can let the expedition approach him. He can chuckle over the enormous waste of treasure and effort, even if not of human life; and he knows that at the last moment he can arrest us with the ultimatum—“Return at once, and I will release my prisoners; move one step forward, and I will sacrifice every one.” This is very disheartening, and takes away from the expedition that zest and buoyancy which the thought of a possible skirmish at the end of the toilsome journey would give it. Nothing could be more unfortunate than the loss of Theodore’s letter by Mr. Flad’s servant. It may be that in it Theodore offered to restore the captives at once upon the agreement that we would advance no farther. It may be that he held out the threat that the prisoners would be put to death did we not at once agree to his terms. Altogether it is most unfortunate. It is to be hoped that Theodore will see the manifest likelihood of his messenger being stopped upon the way, and will send his letter in duplicate by some other hand. There is a rumour current among the natives this morning that Theodore has released the captives, and that they are upon their way down. There is, of course, no finding out the origin of this report, but it is most unlikely [pg 102]that he would deliver them up until, at any rate, he had obtained a promise that we in return would abandon all idea of advancing upon him.

The disease among the horses still continues. Those who have been the longest up here appear comparatively safe, but it would seem to require some time to get the disease out of the blood. Every morning three or four mules are dragged out of the camp to the foot of the hills, a mile off, there to be eaten by the vultures. Yesterday afternoon my groom came to me with the unpleasant intelligence, “Sahib, your baggage-pony ill.” I went out and found him lying down. Upon the veterinary surgeon arriving he shook his head, and, pointing to the swollen tongue, said that it was the disease, and that in a couple of hours it would be dead. We tried brandy-and-water in the vain hope of reviving him, but it was quite useless, and in a little over the two hours the pony died, having been apparently unconscious for an hour and a half previously. Yesterday, too, the horse of Dr. Lamb, chief veterinary surgeon of the transport corps, died. Dr. Lamb came up with us a week since. After spending three days here inspecting the animals he returned, but as he did not wish his horse to run the risk of again going down into the pass, he left it here in perfect health, and rode down again upon a baggage-pony. Yesterday the poor animal died, after the usual three hours’ illness. Dr. Lamb strongly recommended that all animals which can be spared should be at once sent up here. Unfortunately none of the baggage-animals, except those which work the last stage from Rayray Guddy here, can be spared. They must remain below to carry up provisions and baggage whatever the mortality may be. General Staveley has ordered that in future 10 [pg 103]per cent of spare animals shall accompany every train of loaded mules, to take the baggage off those who give in on the way. He has also ordered that the artillery-horses shall be instantly sent up here with their native attendants. The soldiers cannot accompany them, as their warm clothing has not yet arrived. He has also ordered that the cavalry regiments shall be sent on the instant they land. The general has taken particular interest in the transport train since he arrived at Zulla, and it is due to the order he gave and to the assistance with which he supplied them from the 33d and Beloochee regiments, that the train down at Zulla has been enabled to make head against the tremendous difficulties they have sustained owing to the wholesale desertion among the drivers, and to the uselessness of a great portion of those who remain. He has divided the baggage-animals which are in the country into regular squadrons, stationing a number at each station proportioned to the length and hardship of the journey. General Staveley, indeed, is the very man for an expedition of this sort. Whatever he sees is necessary, he takes upon himself the responsibility of ordering to be done. I consider his arrival at Zulla to have been most providential. Everything was going wrong, disorder ruled supreme. All this is now at an end. General Staveley has taken the command, and unity of action is once more introduced. Whether Colonel Phayre, now that his committee of exploration is dissolved, may determine to go down to Zulla or to remain here, is now of little importance, as Major Baigrie, the deputy-quartermaster-general, is fully capable of carrying on the duties, supported as he is by the weight of General Staveley’s authority.

This morning the 10th Native Infantry were engaged in [pg 104]clearing a large space of ground of stones, in order to make it suitable for a parade-ground. It was wonderful to see how fast they got through the work, and how much more they accomplished than an equal number of Europeans would have done in the same time. And this because squatting is the normal attitude of an Oriental. In this attitude they can remain for hours; therefore the work of collecting the stones into heaps, which in turn were carried away in empty rice-bags by another party, was the easiest affair possible. It is very amusing looking on at these native fatigue-parties, the varieties of costume are so great. The 10th Native Infantry, like the Beloochees, is recruited from all parts of India, and contain Mussulmans, Punjaubees, Sikhs, Patans, Hill-men, and, in fact, specimens of most of the native races, the Hindostanee proper being greatly in the minority. To a certain extent these men cling to their own costume, consequently in a party of a hundred of them on fatigue-duty the variety is astonishing. Men in red turbans and white turbans, in red, white, or violet nightcaps—these articles having been served out to these men as part of their warm clothing—some in coloured jackets, white underclothing, and long drawers, others with nothing on but the cumberband, or loincloth, some entirely in white, with their legs covered to the knee. Many are the shades of colour too, from nearly jet black down to the rich bronze of the Sikhs. Almost all are fine, well-built men, and all appear to work with good temper and with a will. The parade is to take place upon the new ground to-morrow evening. It is not settled yet upon what day General Staveley will leave, but his present intention is, in case Colonel Merewether returns on the morning of the 25th, to start the same afternoon.

I have been now three days back in Zulla, which is literally crowded with troops. In respect to the pass, nothing could be more surprising than the change which has taken place in the road during the fortnight which has elapsed since I first passed up. This is due to the way in which the sappers and miners, under officers of the Royal Engineers, and the advanced companies of the Beloochees, under Major Hogg, have worked. The latter are at work in the valley below the Rayray Guddy pass, and here they make very nearly a mile of road a day, along which artillery might be taken without difficulty. It is wonderful to see the change which they have effected, and the hearty way in which they work. Not less surprising is the change which the sappers and miners have [pg 111]effected in the Sooro Gorge. When I last rode up it, it was, as I described it, all but impracticable for loaded animals. One had to clamber over a huge boulder here, to scramble through between two others there. It was a really difficult proceeding, and loaded camels were unable to get through the narrow places. Now all this is changed. A path winds here and there among the rocks, down which I was able to ride my horse without the smallest difficulty. The worst part of the journey was the passage of the thirty-three miles between Rayray Guddy and Sooro, without water, except a bucket of pea-soup-coloured stuff at Guinea-fowl Plain for the animals. It is proposed to sink more wells at this point, to put up some pumps, and to establish a small commissariat dÉpÔt, in order that troops may break their march there. As we rode down this dry parched valley for thirty miles, occasionally meeting detachments of weary men, who asked us pitifully how far it was to water, we could not help thinking of one of Colonel Phayre’s reports, in which he stated, “From Sooro to Senafe, about thirty miles more, water never fails.” The fact being, not one single drop is to be found in the thirty miles above Sooro, save at one muddy well.

At Koomaylo I found an astonishing change. The thorn-trees which had lined the bottom of the valley had been all cut down; a large space had been cleared as a camping-ground for troops as they march through; fresh wells have been sunk, and there are some of the American pumps at work, discharging a stream of clear water, which, flowing through a succession of tubs, enables the animals to be watered in one quarter the time formerly occupied. These pumps, which are called “the Douglas pitcher-spout pump,” are certainly admirable [pg 112]machines. When I had first heard of their arrival, and of the principle of their construction, I had not thought it possible that they could be used in such ground as this. They consist of a number of thin iron tubes like gas-pipes, screwing into each other, the lowest one terminating in a sharp spike of slightly bulbous form, so that, being thicker than the rod itself, it only touches the soil through which it is driven at that point, thus greatly diminishing the friction and resistance. On to the pipe, at about four feet from its upper end, is screwed a block of iron, which can be shifted as the rod gradually descends. A heavy weight of iron, with a hole through it, is put on the rod above this block, and to this weight ropes are attached working through pulleys placed on the top of the rod four feet higher. Two men pull these ropes, and the weight rises, and then falls, acting as a rammer upon the anvil of iron below. In this manner the whole rod is driven down, fresh lengths being added as required, and then a pump is established without the labour of sinking a well. The whole thing is simple in the extreme, and admirably adapted for clay or gravel soils. It could, however, hardly be expected to be successful in the bed of a torrent, where the gravel is mixed with blocks of stone of every size, as it is evident that a hollow pipe could not be driven through solid rock. The tube, however, in nine cases out of ten, pushes any obstacle aside, and reaches the required depth. It is intended to arrange a series of troughs, so that the animals may be enabled to drink upon their arrival without the weary hour of waiting which they have now to go through. Indeed, it is a wonder that serious accidents have not occurred owing to the eagerness with which the maddened animals struggle and fight to get to the water. At Koomaylo we found two com[pg 113]panies of the 33d regiment. They have since been joined by another, and the three marched last night on their way to Sooro. Three other companies of the same regiment marched from here this morning, and will at once follow their advanced wing, while the head-quarters and remaining companies go on to-morrow. There is also a battery of the Royal Artillery at Koomaylo, that is, the guns, and a portion of the men are there, the horses and drivers having been sent up to Senafe to be clear of the disease. I met them at Sooro, and the animals were then all in splendid condition, and not a single horse or baggage-animal was as yet affected. Great as I had found the changes at other points along the line, the alterations were as nothing to those which had taken place at Zulla. The harbour contained more than double the number of vessels that were here before. It is probable that hardly a great commercial port in the world contains such a fine fleet of steamers and sailing-transports as are now lying off this place, of which no one had ever heard six months ago. The camp, too, was so altered that I had the greatest difficulty in finding the tent I was in search of, although it stood precisely where I left it three weeks since. But the place, which then contained under twenty tents, can now count ten times that number. The 33d are encamped to the right of the landing-place, at a quarter of a mile distant. General Staveley and his staff have moved their tents from the spot where they before stood, in the very centre of the dust and din of the place, to a little beyond the 33d lines, where General Napier’s tents are also pitched. The harbour is full of troops, who are clamouring for carriage to enable them to get on. The Scinde Horse are landing, as are the 3d Native Infantry. The 25th Native Infantry and her Majesty’s 4th Foot are there, as are [pg 114]artillery batteries and mountain trains, as are mules and horses innumerable, and a bewildering amount of stores. Very large quantities of these latter are now being forwarded to the front, and 3000 of the little cattle and donkeys of the natives have been engaged upon the service. The price paid is two and a quarter dollars per bag, and each bullock carries two bags, some of the smaller donkeys taking one each. The natives are responsible for any loss of stores, but up to the time I left Senafe not one single bag had gone astray. These animals are rather a nuisance to meet going down the pass. Our own mules go in strings, one tied behind the other, and the drivers, if one meets them, endeavour, as far as possible, to make room for an officer to pass. The natives, on the contrary, drive their animals in a herd before them, occupy the whole width of the track, and make no effort whatever to get their cattle out of the way. It is in vain shouting and being angry. The Shohos regard one with placid indifference, and you must push your horse into a thorn-thicket or up a rock to get out of their way. If you happen to overtake one of these native herds in rather a narrow place, it is still more provoking, for there is nothing to do for it but to follow patiently in their train for perhaps half-a-mile, half smothered in the dust they raise, until the valley opens, and you are able to leave the path, and get past them among the stones and scrub. These oxen are very small, but extremely hardy. There is nothing for them in the way of forage all the way up. All they have to eat are a few leaves from the bushes, and such handfuls of grass as their masters may get for them by climbing the sides of the hills, and yet they arrive at Senafe in good condition and without signs of distress, with their skin smooth, and their eyes bright. This accession of stores [pg 115]at Senafe is a great assistance. It is an addition to our stock there, and it is a great relief to the transport corps to be able to continue their regular work of forwarding regiments, and stores for present consumption of man and beast. The transport train is now doing its work very much better; but I shall have more remarks to make upon them in my next. Brigadier-general Collings started yesterday to take the command at Senafe, and I expect to find that very material changes have, in consequence, taken place there. Brigadier-general Schneider has arrived here, and will take the command at this landing-place.

The great event of to-day is the arrival of Sir Robert Napier, whose ship, her Majesty’s steam-ship Octavia, Captain Colin Campbell, was signalled as about to enter the harbour early this morning. The anchor was dropped at about half-past ten, and General Staveley and the heads of departments went off at once to see him. He is to disembark this evening. As it is war-time, there was no salute or demonstration upon the arrival of the ship.

This has been a week altogether barren of events. No move of any kind has been made, or is at all likely to be made, for another fortnight at the very earliest. The transport train is exclusively employed in taking provisions to the front, and this is a very tedious process. The mules and ponies carry nominally a burden of two hundred pounds each, the camels four hundred pounds; but there are very few indeed of the former capable of bearing their proper burden, and I think I may say not one of the latter. Were an attempt to be made to load them to their full weight, the result would be that one-third of the animals at least would break down in the first two miles. A great number of animals are in hospital; but a vastly-greater proportion are still able to perform a certain amount of work, but nothing like their full quota. These are afflicted with coughs and lung-affections, which will, sooner or later, bring them into hospital, and thence to their graves, the victims of overwork, when in a weakened state, from irregular and scanty supplies of food and water. The transport train is at present so essentially the corps upon which the movements of the army depend, that it will not be out of place if I explain at some [pg 138]little length the constitution and duties of the corps and its officers. The transport train is commanded by Major Warden, and is divided into fourteen divisions, each of which, when complete, contains two thousand animals and twelve hundred men, including drivers, farriers and smiths, saddlers, &c. Each division is commanded by a captain, who has two subalterns. He has four inspectors or sergeant-majors, two second-class inspectors, sergeants; five third-class inspectors, corporals—all European soldiers. He also has two second inspectors and five third inspectors—natives; and one hundred native soldiers, who are supposed to act as assistants.

It will be seen that each division is as strong as three cavalry regiments; it is composed entirely of drivers collected hastily from all parts, Egyptians, Arabs, Italians, Greeks, Hindoos, &c.—all men without the smallest conception of military discipline; and to manage this vast body of men and animals there are a captain and two officers, and eleven white noncommissioned officers. Were each division stationary, or did it move in a body together, the task would be comparatively easy; but it is scattered over the pass, in convoys of from 200 down to little parties of twos and fours, with officers’ baggage. The rules which have been drawn up for the regulation of the corps are admirable on paper, but utterly impracticable on service. Each native soldier is supposed to have control over twelve drivers and twenty-five mules, and is himself amenable to a head muccadum, or fourth inspector, he to a third, the third to the second, &c. “Each man in charge of a squad is to see that every animal brought in from duty is groomed, has the feet picked and cleaned, the provender put before him, the back well sponged with hot water.” “The saddles will invariably, when taken [pg 139]off the animals, be placed upside down to dry, pads towards the sun, and afterwards neatly piled up with the equipments affixed to each, in rear of each squad, dressing from the right of the line.” All these, and many similar rules, are admirable in theory; utterly impracticable in the field. A convoy arrives late at night. Its first task is to unload, and then to place food before the animals, and to water them if water is attainable; then drivers and animals lie down alike exhausted, and grooming, picking feet, and arranging equipments, dressing from the right, are alike unheeded. The officers of this corps have an almost impossible amount of work to get through. They are supposed to see their animals watered, to parade those which have to start, to see them fed, to see them groomed, to examine their backs, to see that the numerous convoys start at the right time, to look after the polyglot variety of drivers, most of them speaking Arabic, and other unknown tongues. Then they have to look after the native soldiers, to send in reports innumerable, and to keep office-books; they have to perform quartermaster duties and paymaster duties; they have the pay-sheets, family-payment rolls, returns of stores, equipments, defaulter-sheets, &c. to make out with their own hands, unless they take one of the few European inspectors from his work to act as clerk. “They are further responsible for the good order and condition of the cattle, and the due preservation and completeness of their equipments, and must see that each individual soldier, noncommissioned officer and inspector, does his work.” In addition to all this, at present they have to be on the pier, seeing the animals landed, and to inspect the putting together and fittings of the saddles and equipments, and the issue of warm clothing to the drivers.

After the heat and dust of Zulla this place is delightful. The heat of the day is tempered by a cool wind, and the really cold nights brace us up thoroughly. Above all, we have no dust. We are clean. One has to stop for a month upon the Plain of Zulla thoroughly to appreciate the pleasure of feeling clean. Here, too, there is water—not only to drink, but to wash in. After being dust-grimed and unable to wash, the sensation of being free from dust and enabled to wash at pleasure is delightful. Having with great diffi[pg 164]culty succeeded in purchasing baggage-animals, I started early from Zulla, and arrived at Koomaylo in plenty of time to be able to examine the wonderful changes which have taken place there in the last three weeks. There were then some hundreds of animals there; now there are thousands. The lines of the mules and ponies extend in every direction; besides which are bullocks, camels, and elephants. Koomaylo is indeed the head-quarters of the transport-train animals. The camel divisions are here. They go down to the landing-place one day, are fed there, and come back loaded next day, getting their water only here. The elephants work in the same way, but they have to be watered at each end of their journey. The bullock division is here, and works upwards to Rayray Guddy, three days’ march, taking up stores and bringing down Senafe grass when there is any to spare. Four mule and pony divisions are here; these, like the bullocks, work to Rayray Guddy and back. The sick animals of these six divisions are also here, and number nearly twelve hundred, including camels. The watering of all these animals morning and evening is a most interesting sight. There are long troughs, into which water is pumped continuously from the little American pumps. The different animals have each their allotted troughs. As they arrive they are formed in lines, and as one line has drunk the next advances. There is no bustle or confusion, for there is an ample supply of water for all. The water is very clear and good, but is quite warm, and most of the animals object to it the first time of tasting. Although the mules are in better condition than they were some time since, very many of them are still very weak, especially those that have been stationed at Rayray Guddy, where they get no[pg 165]thing to eat but the coarse Senafe hay, and have had very frequently to go without even this. The greatest difficulty of the transport train at present is most unquestionably in its drivers. The greater part were, as I have before said, collected haphazard from the scum of Smyrna, Beyrout, Alexandria, Cairo, and Suez. They are entirely without any idea of discipline, are perfectly reckless as to the Government stores, and are brutally cruel to their animals. By cruel, I do not mean actively cruel, but passively cruel. They do not thrash their mules much, they are too indifferent to the pace at which they travel to put themselves to the trouble of hurrying them. But they are horribly cruel in a passive way. They will continue to work their animals with the most terrible sore backs. They will never take the trouble to loosen the chain which forms part of the Bombay headgear, and which, unless it is carefully watched, will cut into the flesh under the chin, and in hundreds of cases has done so. They will jerk at the rein of their draught-mules until the clumsy bit raises terrible swellings in the mouth; they will say no word about the ailments of their beasts until they can absolutely go no single step further, and then, instead of taking them to the hospital lines, they turn them adrift, and report upon their arrival at night that the mules have died upon the way. There is, however, far less of this going on now than formerly, for a mounted inspector accompanies each train, and many of the large convoys have officers in charge of them. But not only for their cruelty and carelessness are these Egyptian, Levant, and Turk drivers objectionable; they are constantly mutinous. I saw the other day at Zulla a party of fifty who had arrived a few days before deliberately refuse to work. They did not [pg 166]like the place, and they would go back. Everything was tried with them; they were kept upon less than half rations and water for days, but they sturdily refused to do anything. The whole party might of course have been flogged, but that would not have made them work; and the first day that they went out with mules they would have thrown their burdens off and deserted with their animals. I was present when Colonel Holland, director-general of transport, endeavoured to persuade them to work. They steadily refused, and even when he promised that they should be sent back to Suez by the first ship, they refused to do any work whatever until the time for embarkation. As they stood in a circle round him, some gesticulating, but most standing in surly obstinacy, I thought I had never seen such a collection of thorough ruffians in my life—the picked scoundrels of the most lawless population on earth. I stopped one day at Koomaylo, and then came rapidly up the pass. The road is now really a very fair road for the whole distance, with the exception of four miles between Koomaylo and lower Sooro. This piece of road has not, by some strange oversight, been yet touched; but I hear that the 25th Native Infantry, one wing of which regiment is at Koomaylo, are to be set to work at it at once. It is along the flat of the valley, and only requires smoothing, and removing boulders, so that a few days will see this, the last piece of the road, completed. For the rest of the distance the road is everywhere as good as a bye-road in an out-of-the-way district at home. In many places it is very much better. Up the passes at Sooro and Rayray Guddy it is really an excellent road. The vast boulders, which I described upon the occasion of my first passing through it, are either shat[pg 167]tered to pieces by blasting, or are surmounted by the road being raised by a gradual incline. Too much praise cannot be given to the Bombay Sappers and Miners, who have carried out these works. The same party, after finishing these passes, have now just completed a broad zigzag road from the bottom of the pass up to the Senafe plain. This was before the most trying part of the whole journey, now it is a road up which one might drive in a carriage and pair, and which reminds one of the last zigzags upon the summits of the Mount Cenis and St. Gothard passes. The whole of the works I have described are at once samples of skilful engineering and of unremitting exertion. No one who passed through six weeks ago would have believed that so much could possibly be effected in so short a time. Next only to the Bombay Sappers credit must be given to the Beloochee regiment, one wing of which under Major Beville at Sooro, and the other under Captain Hogg at Rayray Guddy, have made the road along those places where blasting was not required.

The Beloochees are a remarkably fine regiment, and work with a willingness and good-will which are beyond praise. Great regret is expressed on all sides that they have not been selected to accompany the 33d regiment upon its advance, especially as they are armed with Enfield rifles.

The Beloochees are deservedly one of the most popular regiments in the Indian service, and there is an esprit de corps—a feeling of personal attachment between men and officers, and a pride on the part of the latter to belong to so good a regiment—which the present extraordinary and unsatisfactory state of the Indian service renders altogether out of the question in the regular native regiments. There an [pg 168]officer forms no part of the regiment. He belongs to it for the time being, but if he goes home for leave, he will upon his return be posted in all probability to some other regiment. In this way all esprit de corps, all traces of mutual good feeling between men and officers, is entirely done away with. How such a system could ever have been devised, and how, once devised, it has ever been allowed to continue, is one of those extraordinary things which no civilian, and no military man under the rank of colonel, can understand.

At the station of Sooro and Rayray Guddy little change has been effected since I last described them, and about the same number of men are stationed there; but at Undel Wells, or Guinea-fowl Plain, as it was formerly called, the place was changed beyond all recognition. When last I was there it was a quiet valley, with a few Shohos watering their cattle at a scanty and dirty well. My own party was the only evidence of the British expedition. Now this was all changed. No city in the days of the gold-mining rush in Australia ever sprung into existence more suddenly. Here are long lines of transport-animals, here are commissariat-tents and stores, here a camp of the pioneers. The whole of the trees and brushwood have been cleared away. Here is the watering-place, with its troughs for animals and its tubs for men—the one supplied by one of Bastier’s chain-pumps, a gigantic specimen of which used to pour out a cataract of water for the delectation of the visitors to the Paris Exhibition—the other by one of the little American pumps. Everything works as quietly and easily as if the age of the station was to be counted by months instead of by days.

I found that the telegraph is making rapid progress. The wire now works as far as Sooro, and is also erected down[pg 169]wards from Senafe to Rayray Guddy. It is a very fine copper wire, and in the midst of the lofty perpendicular rocks of the Sooro Pass it looks, as it goes in long stretches from angle to angle, with the sun shining bright upon it, like the glistening thread of some great spider.

It would have been long since laid to Senafe, but the greatest difficulty has occurred in obtaining poles, all those sent from Bombay having been thrown overboard to lighten the vessel in which they were shipped upon an occasion of her running aground. It has been found impossible to procure the poles for the remaining distance; and I hear that a wire coated with india-rubber is to be laid a few inches under the soil.

Senafe itself is but little altered. The 10th Native Infantry are still in their old camp. The 3d Native Cavalry have gone out about eight miles from here to a spot called Goose Plain, and the sappers and miners are encamped in the old lines of the 3d. The 33d lines are in a plain close to, but a little beyond, the old camp, and concealed from view until one has passed it.

On my arrival in camp I found that a deep gloom hung over everyone, and I heard the sad news that Colonel Dunn, the commanding officer of the 33d, had the day before accidentally shot himself when out shooting. The native servant who alone was with him reports that he himself was at the moment stooping to pour out some water, that he heard the report of a gun, and turning round saw his master stagger back, and then sink into a sitting position with the blood streaming from his breast. The man instantly ran back to camp, a distance of five miles, for assistance, and surgeons at once galloped off with bandages, &c., followed by dhoolie [pg 170]wallahs, with a dhoolie to carry him back to camp. When the surgeons arrived, they found Colonel Dunn lying on his back, dead. His flask was open by his side, his cap pulled over his face. He had bled to death in a few minutes after the accident. It is supposed that the gun was at full cock, and that the slight jar of putting the butt to the ground must have let the hammer down. There are very few men who could have been less spared than Colonel Dunn; none more deeply regretted. As an officer he was one of the most rising men in the service, and had he lived would probably have gained its highest honours and position. He was with the 11th Hussars in the Balaclava charge, and when the men were asked to select the man who in the whole regiment was most worthy of the Victoria Cross, they unanimously named Lieutenant Dunn. Never was the Victoria Cross placed on the breast of a more gallant soldier. When the 100th regiment was raised in Canada, he enrolled a very large number of men, and was gazetted its major. After attaining the rank of lieutenant-colonel he exchanged into the 33d, of which, at the time of this sad accident, he was full colonel, and was next on the list for his brigadier-generalship. He was only thirty-five years of age, the youngest colonel in the British service, and would, in all human probability, have been a brigadier-general before he was thirty-six. Known as a dashing officer, distinguished for his personal bravery, a colonel at an age when other men are captains, there was no rank or position in the army which he might not have confidently been predicted to attain, and his loss is a loss to the whole British army. But not less than as a soldier, do all who knew poor Dunn regret him as a man. He was the most popular of officers. Unassuming, frank, kind-hearted in the [pg 171]extreme, a delightful companion, and a warm friend—none met him who were not irresistibly attracted by him. He was a man essentially to be loved. In his regiment his loss is irreparable, and as they stood beside his lonely grave at the foot of the rock of Senafe, it is no disgrace to their manhood to say that there were few dry eyes amongst either officers or men. He was buried, in accordance with a wish he had once expressed, in his uniform, and Wolfe’s lines on the burial of Sir John Moore will apply almost word for word to “the grave where our hero we buried.”

Sir Robert Napier arrived here with his personal staff the day before yesterday, having been five days en route, spending one day carefully examining each station, inquiring, as is his custom, into every detail, and seeing how each department worked. Never was a commander more careful in this inquiry into every detail than is Sir Robert Napier. Nothing escapes him. He sees everything, hears what everyone has to say, and then decides firmly upon what is to be done. The army have rightly an unbounded confidence in him. He is essentially the man for an expedition of this sort. His reputation for dash and gallantry is well known, but at the same time he has a prudence and sagacity which will fit him for the extremely difficult position in which he is placed. If it is possible to make a dash into Central Abyssinia, undoubtedly he will do it; if, on the other hand, it cannot be done without extraordinary risk and difficulty—if it is next to impossible—no amount of outcry at home will drive him to attempt it.

It is believed here that, moved by the home authorities, a rapid dash is on the point of being made, and bets are freely exchanged that the expedition will be over by the 1st of [pg 172]April. For myself, I confess that even in the face of the approaching advance of the first division I have no anticipations whatever that such will be the case. Sir Robert, I believe, does mean to try. Urged on to instant action from home, he will despatch two or three regiments, with cavalry and artillery, and with the lightest possible baggage. But if the country at all resembles that we have already traversed, if it is one tithe as difficult and deficient in food and forage as Abyssinian travellers have told us, I am convinced that the column will have to come to a halt, and wait for supplies, and will have to proceed in a regular military way. I hope that I may be mistaken; I sincerely hope that the advancing column may meet with no insuperable obstacles; but, remembering that it is by no means certain that when we get to Magdala we shall find Theodore and the captives there, I am far more inclined to name nine months than three as the probable time which will elapse before we have attained the objects of our expedition,—that is, always supposing that Theodore does not deliver up the captives as we advance. It is quite certain that the advancing column must depend entirely upon themselves. They will be able to receive no supplies from the rear, for other regiments will take the place of those that go on from Senafe, and the transport train cannot do much more than keep Senafe supplied with provisions at present, even supplemented as their efforts are by those of thousands of the little native cattle. Indeed, had it not been for the quantity of stores brought up by the natives on their own cattle, there would not have been sufficient stores at Senafe to have supplied the troops who now move on. As some 1500 animals will be withdrawn from the strength of the transport train to march with the advance brigade, it is [pg 173]evident that the stores sent up for some time will not be much more than sufficient to supply Senafe, and that no animals will be available to send on fresh supply to the front. The brigade that advances, then, must depend entirely upon itself. It must not hope for any assistance whatever. To say the least, it is an expedition upon the like of which few bodies of men ever started. We have 330 miles to go, across a country known to be exceptionally mountainous and difficult. We have already learned that, with the exception of cattle, the country will provide us with no food whatever. The kings or chiefs through whose territory we march will be but neutral, and even if actively friendly, which they certainly are not, could afford us no practical assistance. To crown all, it may be that towards the end of the march we may have to fight our way through difficult passes, defended by men who, if ill-armed, are at least warlike and brave. History hardly records an instance of such an accumulation of difficulties. Pizarro’s conquest of Mexico, perhaps, ranks foremost among enterprises of this sort, but Pizarro fought his way through the richest country in the world, and could never have had difficulties as to his supplies. There is no question about our conquering—the great question is as to our eating. If we were always certain of finding forage our difficulties would be light in comparison. Unfortunately our mules must eat as well as we, and we know that we shall have long passes where no forage whatever is procurable. If the mules were certain of their food it would be a mere arithmetical question—how many mules are required to convey food for 2500 men for forty days? As it stands now, we have no data to go upon, and whether our present advance succeeds or not is almost entirely dependent upon whether we [pg 174]can obtain forage for our animals. If we can do this, we shall get to Magdala; but if we find that we have to pass long distances without forage, it becomes an impossibility, and we must fall back upon the regular military method of forming dÉpÔts and moving on stage by stage. In this latter case there is no predicting the probable limit of the expedition.

General Napier is taking the most stringent but necessary steps for reducing the baggage to a minimum. No officer, whatever his rank, is to be allowed more than one mule. Three officers are to sleep in each bell-tent, and one mule is allowed for two bell-tents. One mule is allowed to each three officers for cooking-utensils and mess-stores. Only one native servant is to be allowed for each three officers. No officers, except those entitled to horses in England, are to be mounted; they may, however, if they choose, take their own horse as a pack-animal instead of the mule to which they are entitled, in which case a pack-saddle will be issued to them. Similar reductions are being made among the regimental baggage and followers. The latter, whose name was legion, and who were at least as numerous as the fighting-men, are to be greatly curtailed. The Lascars, sweepers, water-bearers, &c. are either to be sent back, or to be turned into grass-cutters for the cavalry and baggage-animals. The European soldiers are to be limited to 35lb. weight of baggage, and part of this they will have to carry for themselves. All this is as it should be. In India it is policy as well as humanity to take every possible care of the British soldier. He is a very expensive machine, and although, as was found during the mutiny, he can work in the sun during an emergency without his health suffer[pg 175]ing, still at ordinary times it is far better to relieve him as far as possible from all duties whatever save drill and guard. Labour and food are so cheap in India that the expense of this host of camp-followers is comparatively slight. Here it is altogether different. It was known long before we started that the ground would be exceptionally difficult, that the difficulties of transport would be enormous, and that every mouth extra to be fed was of consequence; and yet in spite of this the European regiments arrived here with little short of 500 followers; and the native regiments have also hosts of hangers-on. As I have said, all this is now very properly to be done away with. The army will march as nearly as possible with European kit and following, and the transport train will be relieved of the incubus of thousands of useless mouths to be provided for. In speaking of the transport train, I should mention that Sir Robert Napier is in no way accountable for its absurd organisation and consequent break down. The Bombay authorities are alone responsible. When the expedition was first seriously talked of in August last, Sir Robert Napier drew up a scheme for a transport train, which I am assured by those who have seen it was excellent. This he sent in on the 23d of August. No notice was taken of it until the middle of September, when Sir Robert was told that a scheme would be prepared by the commissary-general. Another precious month elapsed, and then in the middle of October the present absurd scheme was hatched. It was sent to Sir Robert for his opinion, and he returned it with the memorandum that it was perfectly impracticable. The authorities persisted, however, in the teeth of his opinion, in having their plan carried out; and it was only upon Sir Robert’s repeated and earnest remon[pg 176]strances that they consented to increase the number of European inspectors and native overlookers to the present ridiculously-insufficient number. The result has abundantly proved the wisdom of the General, and the fatuity of the men who would interfere in every detail, and overrule the opinion of the man to whom everything was to be intrusted from the day of his leaving Bombay. Events have abundantly proved the error of intrusting the management of the expedition to civilians and men of bureaux.

And now, as to the advance brigade. Neither its composition nor its date of advance are yet known for certain. The Chief is not a man who says anything about his plans until the moment arrives when the necessary orders are to be given. It will probably comprise the whole or part of the 33d regiment, the 4th regiment—a portion of which is expected to arrive here to-day—the 10th Native Infantry, the Beloochees, the Punjaub Pioneers, the Bombay Sappers and Miners, the 3d Native Cavalry, and the Scinde Horse. Of these, two companies of the 33d regiment, and two of the 10th Native Infantry, are already at Attegrat, thirty-five miles in advance. Three more companies of each regiment started to-day. Brigadier-general Collings goes on with them, and will for the present command the advance. Part of the Pioneers are here, as are the Bombay Sappers. These go on in a day or two to make the road near and beyond Attegrat, the intermediate part having been already made by the 33d regiment. The Scinde Horse are some eight or nine miles away, and near them are the 3d Native Cavalry. I have omitted in my list of troops for the advance brigade to name the mountain trains, and three guns of the artillery, which will be carried by elephants. These animals are ex[pg 177]pected here in a day or two. I should be sorry to meet them on horseback in a narrow part of the pass, and I expect that they will cause terrible confusion among the transport-animals, for they have all a perfect horror of the elephant—that is, the first time that they see one. When they get to learn that he, like themselves, is a subjugated animal, they cease to feel any terror of him.

There is one pleasing change which has taken place since I last left Senafe, and which I have not yet spoken of. I mentioned that Sir Charles Staveley, when he was up here, ordered huts to be built for the muleteers by the 10th Native Infantry. These are now completed. They are long, leafy bowers, running along in regular lines between the rows of animals. They are very well and neatly built—so regular, indeed, that it is difficult at a short distance to believe that they are really built of boughs. They may not be as warm as houses, but they keep off the wind, and afford a great protection to the muleteers at night. The division here, that of Captain Griffiths, is the first which landed. It is now in very good order, and will accompany the advance brigade. The disease up here is, I am happy to say, on the decrease. The sick animals are out at Goose Plain with the artillery.

Yesterday, in the afternoon, there was a parade of the 33d, and 10th Native Infantry; small parties of the Royal Engineers, of 3d Native Cavalry, and of Scinde Horse were also present. Sir Robert Napier rode along the line, and the regiments then marched past. The little party of the 3d Cavalry came first, followed by the Scinde Horse, and offering as strong a contrast to each other as could be well imagined. The one was upon the European, the other upon the Asiatic model. The Scinde horsemen were much the [pg 178]heavier and more powerful men; and although they have not the military seat or the dashing air of the 3d, they had in their dark dresses, and quiet, determined look, the appearance of men who would be most formidable antagonists. Their horses, although ugly, are strong; and in a charge, it was the opinion of many of those who were looking on, that they would be much more than a match for their more showy rivals. The Scinde Horse are more discussed than any regiment out here; and, indeed, it is so famous a regiment, and is always stationed so much upon the frontiers, that its coming was looked forward to with considerable curiosity. Its appearance is certainly against it; that is, its horses are very ugly animals; but this is not the fault of the regiment, for its station is so far in Northern India that it cannot procure, except at very great cost, any but the native horses. I believe that this is almost the only objection which can be urged against the regiment; the men are remarkably fine; indeed, as I before stated, they are too heavy for cavalry. They are, as a whole, drawn from a much higher and wealthier class of natives than the men of any other regiment; they enlist in the Scinde Horse just as a young nobleman takes a commission in the Guards. There is a very great feeling of esprit de corps, and mutual good-feeling between officers and men; and all are proud of their regiment. The uniform, as I have said in a previous letter, is a long, dark-green coat, with red turban. It is the men’s own choice, and is quite an Eastern uniform; their long curved sabres are also quite Asiatic. The men provide their own carriage; and from this point the transport train will not be called upon to assist them in any way beyond carrying their provisions. I alluded before to the wretched ponies [pg 179]they brought with them; but the case has been explained to me, and there is no blame to be attached to the corps on this score. The men were provided with camels to carry their baggage, and were told that these would do for Abyssinia. While upon their march down to the sea-coast a telegram arrived, stating that camels would not do; and the men were obliged to sell their camels at a sacrifice, and to buy any ponies they could get. I speak of the men doing so, because the horses, &c., are not the property of the Government, but of the men, or rather of some among the men.

The Scinde Horse are, and always were, an irregular cavalry, upon what is called the “sillidar” system. Government contracts with the men to find their own horses, accoutrements, arms, food, and carriage. This is the irregular cavalry system, upon which all native cavalry regiments are now placed. The sum paid is thirty rupees a month. Here, however, only twenty rupees are to be paid, as Government finds food and forage. The advantages of this system for frontier-work are enormous. The men are scattered over a wide extent of country in tens and twelves, and it would be manifestly impossible to have a series of commissariat stations to supply them. Whether the system is a good one for regiments stationed for months or years in a large garrison town is a very moot question, and one upon which there is an immense difference of opinion. These regiments would have no occasion for carriage. If they had to move to another town, it would be cheaper for them to send their baggage in carts than to keep up a sufficient baggage-train. When, therefore, the order to march on service comes, there are no means of transport. The 3d Native Cavalry are exactly a case in point. Four years ago they were changed from a [pg 180]regular to an irregular cavalry regiment; but, like all regiments, the 3d had its traditions, and stuck to them. They adhere to their old uniform and equipments, and are, at a short distance, undistinguishable from a European hussar regiment. They pay extreme attention to their drill, and are to all intents and purposes a regular cavalry. They are mounted on excellent horses, and are certainly wonderfully-cheap soldiers at three pounds a month, including everything. But they have been long stationed at Poonah, and consequently had no occasion to purchase baggage-animals, and came on here without them. When it was found that the regiment had arrived here without baggage-animals, there was, of course, considerable angry feeling in the official mind; and had it not been that the animals were dying in the plain, and that no other cavalry regiment was at hand to go up with the advance brigade, it is probable that they would have been kept in the rear of the army. However, they were badly wanted, and so carriage was given to them. I have already spoken in the highest terms of their bearing and efficiency. There is one point, however, in the sillidar system which strikes me as being particularly objectionable. It is not always with the men themselves that this contract is made; it is with the native officers. Some of the men do supply their own horses, &c.; but the native officers each contract to supply so many men and horses complete, buying the horses and accoutrements, and paying the men ten rupees a month. This, I cannot help thinking, is an unmixed evil. The man has two masters—the man who pays him, and the Government he serves. This evil was carried to a great extent in the days before the mutiny; and I have heard a case of a regiment at that time of which almost the [pg 181]whole of the horses and men were then owned by one native officer. Had that man been hostile to the Government, he might have taken off the whole regiment. Efforts have since been made to put a stop to this excessive contracting, and no officer is now allowed to own more than six of the horses. It appears to me that it should be altogether done away with, and that each man should find his own horse.

But I have wandered very far away from the parade-ground at Senafe. After marching past the regiments formed in close order, the General then addressed a few words to each. To Major Pritchard of the Engineers he said how glad he was to have his own corps with him again, and that he hoped some day to employ them to blow down the gates of Magdala. To the 33d he said a few words complimenting them upon their efficiency, and regretting that they would not be led by the gallant officer whose loss he and they deplored. The General then addressed the 10th Native Infantry, complimenting them upon their conduct and efficiency. Sir Robert spoke in Hindoostanee, a language of which my knowledge is unfortunately confined to about eight words; none of these occurred in the speech, and I am therefore unable to give the text. The regiments which go on are delighted at the prospect of a move, and the 10th Native Infantry cheered lustily as they marched off with their band at their head. Fresh troops arrive as fast as others move on. While I have been writing this a portion of the 4th King’s Own have marched in, as also have the mule-battery with the light rifled guns from Woolwich. The most important, however, of to-day’s arrivals has been that of a hundred bullock-carts. A string of camels has also come in, as I can tell by the lugubrious bellowings and [pg 182]roar which at present fills the air. The pass is therefore proved to be practicable, and the camels and bullock-carts will be a great assistance to us. The natives must be astonished at seeing this string of carts coming up a place which all their tradition must represent as almost impassable even for their own cattle, which, like goats, can go almost anywhere. Their ideas about us must altogether be rather curious; and as we know by experience how a story expands and alters as it goes, the reports which must reach the extreme confines of Abyssinia must be something astounding. Even here they are not contented with the facts. There is a report among them that the cattle we are buying up are intended to be food for a train of elephants we have coming to help us fight Theodore, and that we have also a lion-train, which will shortly be here. Our news from Magdala is as before. Theodore is slowly, very slowly advancing. He has got heavy cannon, and insists upon taking them with him. Waagshum, the king who has been besieging Magdala, has fairly run away, and the tribes around Magdala have all sent in their allegiance to Theodore. Theodore has been writing to Rassam as if he were his dearest friend, and Rassam has been answering him as if he were Theodore’s grovelling slave. Theodore’s letter runs in this style: “How are you? Are you well? I am quite well. Fear not. I am coming to your assistance. Keep up your head. I shall soon be with you. I have two big cannon. They are terrible, but very heavy to move.” Rassam answers somewhat in this style: “Illustrious and most clement of potentates, I, your lowest of slaves, rejoice at the thought that your coming will throw a light upon our darkness. Our hearts swell with a great joy;” and more fulsome stuff of the same character. [pg 183]Dr. Blanc’s letters to us are at once spirited and manly. “We are delighted,” he says, “at the thought of your coming. How it will end no one can say. We are all prepared for the worst; but we have at least the satisfaction of knowing that our deaths will be avenged.” Up to the last moment of doing this we have no day fixed for Sir Robert Napier’s advance upon Attegrat. The 5th is named as the earliest date upon which a messenger can return from Grant’s party, and say when Kassa, the King of Tigre, will be at Attegrat to meet the General. It is probable that the King will start almost immediately Grant arrives, and in that case Sir Robert will have to move forward at once in order to arrive first at the place of meeting. I go on to-morrow, unless any circumstance should occur to change my plan.

The scientific and the general members of the expedition are arriving very fast. Dr. Markham, the geographer of the expedition, has long been here. Mr. Holmes, of the British Museum, arrived yesterday, as archÆologist; he is going off to-morrow to a church a few miles distant, to examine some manuscripts said to exist there. The Dutch officers arrive up to-day, and I hear two French officers arrive to-morrow. In reference to these foreign officers, I am assured to-day by a staff-officer, to whom I was regretting that more was not done for them, that they are not really commissioners. It may be so; but as, at any rate, they are officers who are paid by foreign governments, and are allowed to accompany the expedition, I confess that I am unable to see any essential difference. The staff-officer assured me, as a proof of the beneficent intentions of the authorities, that these foreign officers would not be charged for their rations. John Bull is indeed liberal. He is much more sharp as to the “specials;” [pg 184]for a general order was actually issued the other day, saying that “gentlemen unconnected with the army were to pay for a month’s rations in advance.” With the exception of the scientific men, who are all sent out by Government, and must, I suppose, be considered official persons, there are only four gentlemen here “unconnected with the army,” namely, three other special correspondents and myself. I remarked to a commissariat-officer, with a smile, when called upon to pay my month in advance, that “I thought I might have been considered as good for the payment at the end of each month as officers were.” “Ah,” said the astute officer, “but suppose anything were to happen to you, whom should we look to for payment?” The reply was obvious: “But, on the other hand, suppose that unpleasant contingency should occur, of whom are my representatives to claim the amount for the days paid for but not eaten?” At whose suggestion this general order was issued I know not; but I do know that anything more paltry and more unworthy the general order of a large army was never issued. Who issued this order I know not, for I cannot but repeat that no one could be more kind and considerate than are Sir Robert Napier and every member of his staff to all of us.

I must now close my letter, for it is getting late, and my hand is so cold I can hardly hold a pen. I may just mention that colds are very prevalent here, and that at night there is an amount of coughing going on among the natives in the tents around, that is greater even than could be heard in an English church on a raw November morning during a dull sermon.

I have been so long looking forward to arriving at Attegrat, that, being here, I feel that I have made a long stage into the interior of Abyssinia. I confess, however, that I am disappointed in Attegrat. It is foolish, I own. I ought by this time to have learnt the utter hollowness and emptiness of all statements connected with the country; and everything we have been told, everything we have been led to expect, has alike turned out utterly incorrect. Sometimes we have been told pleasant things, sometimes we have been threatened with dire calamities; but in both cases the vati[pg 200]cinations have turned out equally incorrect. Guinea-worms and tape-worms, fever and cholera, small-pox and dysentery, tetse-fly and sunstroke—all these have been distinguished by their absence: but as a counterbalance, so have Colonel Phayre’s green fields and gushing springs at Zulla, his perennial water between Sooro and Rayray Guddy, and his emporium of commerce at Senafe, which turned out a village of six mud-huts. Still, in spite of previous disappointments, I confess I clung to the idea that I should find a town of considerable size at Attegrat. The place was marked in Roman capitals upon the maps. It had been spoken of as a town flowing with milk and honey; it was to be one of our main halting-places; and altogether one certainly did expect to find rather more than twenty hovels, a barn called a church, and another ruinous barn which was once a palace. But before I describe Attegrat, let me detail my journey here from Goun-Gonna. I sent my baggage off at seven o’clock in the morning, at the same time that the baggage of the head-quarters of the 33d and Colonel Penn’s battery of mountain guns started. I then explored the pretty valley I described in my last, and afterwards went into a friend’s tent and finished my letter to you. At twelve o’clock I started for what I was told was an eleven miles’ ride; but it turned out the longest sixteen I have ever ridden. Every officer and man to whom I have spoken—and among others I may quote Colonel Milward and Colonel Penn of the Artillery, and Major Cooper, and all the officers of the 33d—agreed with me that it was over sixteen miles. Colonel Phayre’s and the quartermaster’s departments’ gross miscalculation of distances is becoming a very serious nuisance. It is absolutely cruel upon the men. If soldiers are told [pg 201]that they have a sixteen miles’ march across a rough country, and beneath a hot sun, they will do the distance. It may be hard work; but they know when they start what is before them, and they make up their minds to it. But when they are told it is eleven miles, at the end of that distance they begin to look out anxiously for their camping-place. They become cross and impatient, and are infinitely more fatigued than they would have been had they been told the real distance that was before them.

I now resume my account of my day’s march. For the first two miles the road mounted very steeply, until we were at least a thousand feet above Goun-Gonna, and had gained the great plateau out of which the valley is cut. It must have been a very difficult ascent before the road was made by the Sappers and Miners and Punjaub Pioneers. I do not know which parts of the road between Senafe and Attegrat are to be assigned to each regiment; but I believe that the road between Senafe and Goun-Gonna was executed principally by the 33d, assisted by the 10th Native Infantry, and that beyond this point it has been entirely the work of the Sappers and Miners and the Pioneers. The road from Goun-Gonna to Attegrat has not been continuously formed, as it is from Zulla to Goun-Gonna. It is only made in very difficult places, where it would have been next to impossible for a mule to have passed without its burden getting over its ears or tail. In other places we have the mere track worn by the people of the country; but where we ascend or descend gulleys or ravines, or where the road winds along on the face of a hill, when a false step would have involved a roll of a thousand feet down, there a fair road has been cut, which, although frequently steep, is always safe and [pg 202]passable. The road, take it as a whole, from Goun-Gonna to this place, is about as good as a bridle-road among the Welsh or Scotch hills. There are some extremely-steep places, where one mule falling down would stop a whole force, and where the loads shift terribly; but there are no places which cannot with care be surmounted, even by a baggage-train of mules. But this has been the easy portion of the journey. From this place to Antalo the difficulties will be vastly greater; beyond Antalo still greater again. It is for this reason that I look forward to a time when my knapsack will contain my whole luggage, and when sleeping in the open air will be the rule for everyone. Upon getting fairly up to the top of the hill-side from Goun-Gonna, a flat of apparently almost illimitable extent stretched away before us. Two or three of the curious conical hills which abound in this country rose at a considerable distance, and in the horizon were the peaks of the most fantastically-jagged range of mountains I ever saw. Nothing in the Alps will give any idea of the varied outline of this range of peaks. They are serrated and jagged in every conceivable form. Single peaks and double peaks, peaks like a cavalry saddle, and great square-topped blocks with perpendicular sides. The plain itself was dotted with low bushes, and covered everywhere with a luxuriant growth of grass, or rather hay, which reached up to the horses’ girths. The ground was strewn with loose stones, which, with the numerous small holes, made any progress beyond a walking-pace difficult and even dangerous. The stones, and indeed the whole formation of this upper plateau, are composed of a very white sandstone. In the pass up to Senafe the formation was entirely schist, broken and cracked-up in a wonderful manner, [pg 203]with numerous veins of quartz, and occasional walls of very hard volcanic stone traversing it. On the plain of Senafe, and throughout the whole country this side of it, we have a superincumbent bed of sandstone, which has evidently been exposed for a very long time to the action of water. The great rocks of Senafe are everywhere water-worn, and were islets, which rose above the level of a great sea, and resisted the action of the water, which has cleared away the sandstone around them to the general regular level of the plateau. Traversing the plain, we found that the seemingly almost boundless level was apparent rather than real, for the road constantly wound to avoid great valleys, which everywhere penetrated far into it. The sensation of coming suddenly upon a valley of 1000 or 1500 feet deep when apparently travelling upon a level plain was very singular. It quite upset all our preconceived notions of scenery. One found that the mountains to our left, which had appeared to rise a thousand feet or so above the plain, were really double that height from the bottom of the before-invisible valley which intervened between ourselves and them, and that the plain we were traversing was not a plain at all, but a succession of flat mountain-tops. Sometimes these valleys ran so far into the plateau that the road would have to diverge too much from the straight line to pass round their heads, and in these cases we descended some hundred feet and mounted up the other side. The view down some of these valleys was extremely fine, the mountains beyond frequently rising for miles in an unbroken perpendicular wall of two or three thousand feet. The finest view, however, was about two miles from our halting-place; and this, although I have seen much splendid scenery in my varied wanderings, was cer[pg 204]tainly the finest and most striking scene I ever beheld. Our path was winding along the face of a high mountain, along which our pioneers had cut a path some ten or twelve feet wide. We were perhaps a hundred feet above the general level of the plateau, but were passing round the head of a valley which lay some fifteen hundred feet below us. This valley was only a short branch of a broader valley which ran at right-angles to it, and beyond and in the middle of which a number of isolated hills rose up like islands; these were all flat-topped, and rose to the exact level of the general plateau. Some had sloping sides, others were perfectly perpendicular; and it required no stretch of the imagination to picture the time when a mighty river was sweeping down this great valley, and when these island-mountains breasted and divided its waters. To our right this valley was ten or twelve miles wide, and the numerous islands presented an extraordinary vista of precipice and slope. On the opposite side of the valley the plateau extended for a mile or two, and then rose into lofty rounded mountains; more to the left it stretched away for many miles, and the view was bounded by the extraordinary fantastic range of peaks of which I have already spoken. It was a most glorious view, and, broken by the lights and shadows thrown by a sinking sun, will always remain in my recollection as the most extraordinary and magnificent landscape I ever saw.

We arrived at Fokado at half-past four, getting in half an hour before our baggage, which had been eight hours and a half upon the road, and quite determined that in future, whatever labour it involved, we would not again let it out of our sight. The break-down of a baggage-animal, if one is at hand oneself to see that one’s servants instantly and pro[pg 205]perly reload it, is an affair of ten minutes at most; but if the servants are left to their own devices, it will occupy over half-an-hour. First of all there are ten minutes wasted in deploring the calamity, another ten in undoing the cords, and at least twenty more in repacking and getting under way. Fokado, like all our camping-stations, lies in a slight basin; this basin is, like the rest of the plateau-land, covered with long grass. A dozen men with scythes could cut enough in a day to supply a cavalry regiment; but they would have to be very careful to choose such portions of the plain as are not covered with stones. As it is, the grass-cutters are supplied with very small sickles, which do very well to hack off a bunch of grass, but which are of little use towards getting in any large quantity. Fortunately the natives cut and bring it in in considerable amount, and I am able to purchase an abundance from them; for no forage is issued by the commissariat for our baggage-animals, and it would be out of the question to expect our syces to go out and cut grass after a long and fatiguing day’s march. There is a well at Fokado from which plenty of cool and moderately-pure water is obtained. After having seen my tent erected and my rations drawn and on the fire, I walked on with two or three officers of the 33d to see the church. It stood, as most of the churches here do, upon slightly-rising ground, and was surrounded by a high wall, with the gateway entering beneath a sort of tower. Having paid my dollar—the modest tariff here demanded for admission—I entered the enclosure. It was in a state of the utmost disorder; loose boulders and stones were strewn everywhere, and I saw no signs whatever of graves. This was the case in the other three churches I have since visited, and is the more singular as the grave[pg 206]yards I saw and described coming up the pass, and which were those of the Mahometan tribes who inhabit that part of the country, were so carefully constructed and so religiously preserved. I have not seen a single grave since I entered the Christian part of Abyssinia. Near the church-door was a framework of three cross-poles, and from this were suspended, by straw ropes, two large stones of sonorous qualities. These were the church-bells. The church itself was a low edifice, built of rough stones, with large blocks forming the door-frame. Entering, I found myself in a low chamber, the roof being supported by four rough stone columns. The floor was littered down with rushes, and had exactly the appearance of a stable. On the wall was a rude half-length fresco of the Virgin, squinting terribly; and on the door leading to the next chamber was a skin or parchment with a somewhat similar painting. Having bowed deeply before each of these portraits at the request of the officiating priest, I was admitted into the next chamber, which was precisely similar to the first, but, having no windows, it only received such light as came in through the crevices of the doors. There was some demur as to my entering the next chamber, which indeed had been refused to all the officers who had been previously there; but I pointed to my white solar hat; and this and the fact of my not being in uniform convinced them, I believe, that I was a priest; for I should mention that the Abyssinian priests are distinguished by wearing white turbans, all the rest of the population going bare-headed. I was therefore admitted into the holy of holies. This was a more lofty chamber than the others, and was lighted by a window high up on the side wall. Across the room, at a distance of about a yard from [pg 207]the door, hung a screen about six feet high; this screen was made of roughly-embroidered canvas, and was apparently intended to prevent the eyes of the worshippers in the second chamber catching a glimpse of the penetralia when the door was opened. Looking round the end of this curtain, I saw an erection resembling a painter’s easel. A parchment or skin was stretched across the upper portion, and on this probably was a painting of some sort; but as it was wrapped up in a cloth, I was unable to examine it, as I was not allowed to go beyond the line of the screen. Returning, I noticed in one corner of the first chamber some long sticks, with a double bend at the top; that is, resembling in form a cross, with the top piece broken off. These are used in the service. Near them, in a niche in the wall, were some pieces of iron fastened together so as to make a jingling noise when shaken. These, no doubt, supply the place of the bell at the raising of the host. I have omitted to say that in the churchyard were two rough fonts; they were round blocks of stone, about two feet and a half high and eighteen inches in diameter; the hollow at the top for water was about eight inches deep. I have seen no fonts in the other churches I have entered.

The following morning I started for Attegrat, a march of about eleven miles. For some distance the road kept along the top of the plateau, which was here undulating, and the road in many places was very rough. At last we came to the brink of a valley, into the bottom of which we had to descend. How anything like a laden animal ever got down before the road was made it is next to impossible to imagine. We came along a beaten track to the top of the valley, and we could see the path again going straight along below us [pg 208]from the bottom; but there was no trace of any track or path down the tremendously-steep descent; and I suppose the little bullocks, which are as sure-footed as goats, and the donkeys, were allowed to pick their way down as they liked best. Fortunately, we were not reduced to this alternative, which would certainly have ended in three out of our four baggage-animals breaking their necks, even if the fourth—a sturdy little Massowah mule, with the zebra-marks upon his back and legs—had managed to get in safety to the bottom. A road has been cut along the face of the hill by the Sappers and Pioneers; and this road, although exceedingly steep in some places, is yet perfectly practicable. It is, however, only six feet wide, and in two or three places even less, and consequently a train of mules are a long time getting down; for if the load of one shifts and gets over his ears, all the rest must wait until it is readjusted-no easy matter upon a steep incline. If one fall from weakness or disease, there would be no resource but to roll him at once over the edge of the path into the valley below. Fortunately, none of these contingencies happened to us. The loads all got on to the animals’ necks, but our men and ourselves were able to keep them balanced there until we reached the foot of the hill, when all the loads had to be taken off and entirely repacked. Just at the foot of the incline was a village. During our journey across the plateau from Goun-Gonna to this point we had only passed Fokado and one other village. We saw many down in the deep valleys around whose heads we had skirted, but upon the flat level of the plateau we did not see a single habitation. There were numerous herds of cattle, but these probably come up to graze upon the thick grass during the day, and descend [pg 209]into the valleys for water at night. We also passed some curious piles of stones upon the plateau-land, which I omitted to mention in my description of that part of my journey. These piles were thirty or forty feet in diameter, and five or six feet high; they were of stones roughly thrown together, and had I met with them in England I should have supposed that they had been merely cleared off the fields; but here there were no signs of cultivation, and the stones were too thickly strewn everywhere to render it probable that any Abyssinian cultivator would have undertaken the labour of clearing piles of stones of this size off his land—a work which, without wheeled vehicles, would be very great. These heaps always occurred near the track, and were generally surrounded by bushes. I passed at least twenty of them. It is possible that these cairns may be burying-places; but the deserted position, the fact that they were far from villages, and the labour which they must have taken to make, all seem to negative this supposition. Besides which, there was hardly the regularity about their shape which one meets with in the burying-cairns of even the most savage nations. I confess that they are to me a perfect mystery. In the village at the foot of the descent was a church which was exactly similar to the one at Fokado. It had no fonts that I could observe, but boasted of a gong in addition to the sonorous stones for summoning the faithful to prayers. In the enclosure, lying among the stones, was a large volcanic bomb, the first of the sort I have seen in the country; it had apparently been brought there as something strange, and perhaps supernatural, and had therefore been put on holy ground; for the enclosure within the walls is holy in Abys[pg 210]sinian eyes, and we are always required to take off our hats on entering the outside gates.

From this village to Attegrat the road keeps in the bottom of a broad valley, the great part of which is ploughed up and ready for the seed, which is, I suppose, sown before the June rains. The soil is light and good, in many places a rich light loam, which would delight an English gardener’s heart. The ploughs are drawn by oxen, and are exactly similar to those I have seen in parts of Italy, except that the share of this is broader and does certainly more work. Indeed, it is by no means badly adapted for shallow ploughing on a light ground. A ride of about five miles down the valley brought us to a slight rise in the ground, and on surmounting this, Attegrat lay before us. My first impression was that of disappointment, for, with the exception of its containing two or three larger buildings, it differed in nothing from the other villages we have seen. The valley, at the point where Attegrat lies, is about two miles wide, and the twenty or thirty flat-roofed huts, which, with the church and a ruined palace, constitute the city, stand on rising ground nearly in its centre. On the left of this valley, near the slope, is the British camp. Behind it the ground rises gradually, affording camping-ground, if necessary, for a considerable force. Indeed, with the exception of some ploughed fields round the town, the whole valley is well suited for a camp. The force at present here are the five companies of the 33d regiment, whose camp, with that of Penn’s mountain battery of steel guns and the Royal Engineers, is the first we arrive at. Next to the 33d lines are the commissariat stores. A few hundred yards farther down in the valley is the camp of the six companies of the 10th Native Infantry. Their tents, like those of the European troops, are upon the slope. Beyond them this slope becomes [pg 211]much steeper, and accordingly the 3d Native Cavalry are camped in the bottom. Next to them come the Mule Train. The divisions here are the Lahore Mule Train and the A Division under Captain Griffiths. It was this division which first landed, and brought up the pioneer force. It has been ever since in the front, and is now in admirable condition. The Egyptian, Arab, Italian, and, in fact, all the drivers, except only the Hindoostanee drivers, have been during the last few days sent down to the coast to be returned to their own countries, and their places have been filled with the Hindoo dhoolie bearers, and others whose services will be no longer required, now that the regiments have all to march without followers. It need hardly be said that this will very greatly improve the efficiency of the division, for the Hindoo, if he has less strength than the Arab, Egyptian, or Persian, is yet amenable to discipline, and will, to the best of his power, carry out the orders he receives; whereas the other men were utterly reckless and disobedient, and could not be trusted out of reach of the eye of their officers. The camp of the Scinde Horse is still farther down the valley, beyond the transport lines. Sir Robert Napier arrived yesterday afternoon. His camp had been pitched for him on some slightly-rising ground in front of the 33d lines, and distant three or four hundred yards. To-day, however, the tents are being struck, and will be pitched in a line with the 33d tents, and forming a connection between them and the artillery. His tent, therefore, is in the exact centre of the European line, with the artillery on his right, the 33d on his left flank.

I now proceed to describe Attegrat. The most conspicuous building, as seen from our camp, is a detached sort of fortress, which looks like nothing so much as the castle of [pg 212]Bluebeard in a pantomime. It stands on a rising knoll, and consists of a square building of two stories high. Upon the top, and greatly overhanging each side, are four extraordinary-looking erections, like great dog-kennels or pigeon-cots, but which must be six or seven feet square. Almost the whole of these constructions project over the walls. What may be the use of these curious appendages to the tower, it is impossible to say. Next to this square tower stands a building as incongruous with it in its construction as it is possible to conceive. It is round, and has a high thatched roof, like a beehive. In addition to these main structures are several low sheds. The whole are enclosed in a high wall with a tower in it, underneath which is the gateway. The buildings are, no doubt, of stone, but they are all plastered over with mud, and look as if made of that material. As I have said, it is exactly one’s idea of Bluebeard’s castle, and one expects to see sister Anne waving her handkerchief out of one of the pigeon-cots at its summit. Certainly, if the gate were to open, and a stout figure in an immense pasteboard head, with a blue beard trailing upon the ground, and surrounded by a host of retainers also with big heads—which their chief would, of course, belabour occasionally with his staff—were to issue out, it would be in such admirable keeping with the place, that one would feel no astonishment. And yet this fortress has its history, and has stood its siege. It seems that the king or chief of this part of the country used seldom to live in his palace in the town itself, and his brother had his abode there. The brother took too much upon himself, and the jealousy and ire of the chief were aroused, and he ordered his brother to move out of the palace. This he did, but constructed at half-a-mile from the town this for[pg 213]midable castle. A disagreement arose, and the king attacked the castle, which he took after twenty hours’ siege. The castle is at present inhabited by the wife of a chief—I cannot say whether it is the same chief, for dates in Abyssinia are somewhat confused—who is a prisoner of Gobayze, King of Lasta. She has, I hear, taken a vow never to go out of doors while her husband is in captivity. Passing Bluebeard’s castle, it is a good half-mile to the town. At the right-hand on a rising rock is the church, which at a distance exactly resembles a Swiss chÂlet. It is, of course, surrounded by its wall, and within the enclosure grow some of the gigantic candelabra cactus. The church itself is more lofty than any I have yet seen. It is square, and is covered with a high thatched roof, the eaves of which project all round a considerable distance, and are supported by poles. Upon paying the usual fee, I was admitted in the enclosure, and saw at once that this church was of far greater pretensions than any I had yet seen. The entrance was by a doorway of squared beams, with two arches, each cut out of one piece, and each ornamented with five rolls of wood underneath. Entering this, we were in a sort of lobby or hall. The walls of this were covered with frescoes representing the feats of the founder of the church, who was either the father or grandfather of the present chief. Here that redoubted warrior is represented spearing an elephant; again he is kneeling and taking aim at a lion, whose claws are of truly-formidable dimensions. Here there are two or three battle-scenes, in which he is defeating his enemies with immense slaughter. To judge by his portraits, the founder of the church was a fair, round-faced man, with short hair and a slight moustache. I passed from this vestibule into the church itself. [pg 214]Its construction differs entirely from the others I have seen, inasmuch as instead of the sacred chamber being placed beyond two others, it was in the centre of the building, and was surrounded by a passage, the walls of which were covered with frescoes representing events in Old and New Testament writing, and in the lives of the saints. Here we have St. George nobly spearing the dragon, while the King of Egypt’s daughter and her maidens stand by with clasped hands and admiring eyes. Here we have St. Peter suffering martyrdom by being crucified head downwards; with a vast number of other martyrdoms. The biblical events all strictly follow the scriptural description; the only remarkable difference being that at the Last Supper thirteen apostles are represented as being present. In all these, as in the first frescoes, the faces of the actors are represented as white; while in the Temptation the tempter has his traditional sable hue. These frescoes are all in the early Byzantine style, and were they but really ancient, would be extremely curious and valuable; but as the church is not, at most, more than sixty or seventy years old, it is evident that they are the work of some Egyptian or Greek artist brought down for the purpose. I was not allowed to see what was in the central chamber. Leaving the church, I crossed the town, sixty or seventy yards, to where, at its other extremity, stands the ruined palace. It is surrounded by a wall, which encloses a considerable extent of ground. The principal portion of the palace far more resembles a church than do any of the actual churches of the country. It consists of a hall fifty feet long by twenty-five feet wide, with a small round room at the end opposite to the door. The entrance is underneath a porch; and along this, at about eight feet from the [pg 215]ground, there are built into it a line of bullocks’ horns, with their points projecting outwards. The hall was thirty feet high to the springing of the roof, and must have been really a fine hall, country and place being taken into consideration. The greater part of one side-wall has, however, fallen; and the roof is entirely gone. Some of the great beams which crossed it lie on the ground, and it would be a matter of considerable interest to inquire whence, in a treeless country like this, these massive beams were obtained. The most interesting portion of the ruin is the room beyond the great hall, and which was probably the king’s own room. It is entered by a double-arched door, of workmanship and design similar to that I have described at the church; the two buildings being coeval, and the woodwork unquestionably worked by some foreign artificer brought here for the purpose. The chamber itself is about fifteen feet across, with three deep recesses, each lighted by a small double-arched window of the same pattern as the door. The room was about twelve feet high, and was ceiled by a circular arched roof, which still remains. It is made of reeds or rushes sewn side by side, like the basketwork of the country, and dyed with a pattern in reel and blue. This was all worth describing in the palace; there were several other buildings attached to it, but none worthy of any special notice.

About a mile beyond Attegrat, upon the other side of the valley, there is another church, whose site might well have been selected by the monks of old for a monastery, so charming is the grove in which it is situated. This grove is of considerable extent, and consists of several sorts of really lofty trees: there is a thick undergrowth—with plenty of paths for walking, however—of all sorts of plants. There [pg 216]are some tall bananas with their broad, graceful leaves, the first I have seen since I left Bombay. There are roses and honeysuckles, wild figs and acacias; over all of which a thick cordage of various creepers twines in clusters. To add to the enjoyment, the whole air is heavy with the fragrance of the wild jasmine, which grows in great bushes, covered with clusters of its white star-like flowers. While sitting down with a party of three or four officers of the 33d enjoying the delightful shade and the charming fragrance, the priest with several natives came up to us, and taking seats, or rather squatting—I do not think an Abyssinian knows how to sit down—beside us, they entered into a species of conversation with us, inquiring particularly, as do all the natives, if we were Christians. Presently they made signs they would like to see some sketches I had been taking; but when they took them in their hands they were completely puzzled, turned them upside down and sideways, and even looked behind at the back of the paper: they could evidently make nothing of them. Presently the priest, with an air of great self-satisfaction, made signs that he could write, and demanded if I could do so. I had no writing at hand, but in my sketch-book I had a column of your paper which I had cut out for purposes of reference; this I gravely handed over, and it was received with a perfect shout, first of astonishment, then of delight. They had never seen such even and perfect manuscript in their lives. The priest evidently thought I must be a priest of high grade, and he at once offered to show us the church, which he did without demanding the usual dollar from any one of the party. It was so similar to those I have previously described that I need not say anything about it, except that in the holy of holies, in place of a frame like a painter’s easel, the shrine was composed of [pg 217]three poles, seven or eight feet long, inclining towards each other, and meeting at the top like a tripod: a piece of cloth was wrapped round the upper part of this frame. I cannot say whether it concealed anything, but it did not appear to me to do so. Below this a skin was stretched between the three legs, so as to make a sort of shelf, and upon this were placed a number of withered flowers. I should mention that, in the inner chamber of most of these churches, those who have entered with me have agreed that there was a faint but distinct odour of incense. It may be, however, that in all of them might have been some flowers, such as jasmine, the perfumes of which may have deceived us. It is rather singular that the grape has not been introduced into a country which would seem by its climate to be well suited for it. There is no wine to be obtained here; and the sacrament is administered by squeezing a raisin into a chalice of water. Raisins are, however, very scarce; and in some churches years have elapsed without the administration of the sacrament, owing entirely to the absence of even a single raisin.

In my description of Attegrat I have omitted to say, that although the town itself does not contain more than twenty or thirty houses, yet the population within a short distance is very large; for on the hill-side, behind the church I have just been describing, there are numerous villages, which are probably known in the local tongue as lower and upper Attegrat, new and old, eastern and western Attegrat. Attegrat, at any rate, is their centre; and judging by the number of natives one sees in and about the camp, and the number of houses in the various villages, there must be a population of six or eight thousand clustered in a circle of three or four miles from the town.

Our grand Christmas farcio-pantomime, entitled “Harlequin and the Magic Durbar; or the Ambassador, the Archbishop, and the Barbarian Cortege,” has been played to an immensely amused and numerous audience. The title had been advertised as “The King, the Archbishop, &c.;” but, owing to the unavoidable absence of the principal actor, the Ambassador was at the last moment substituted for the King. The opening scene may be described as “The camp of the Knight Errant, Sir Robert Napier, with Bluebeard’s Castle in the middle distance, and the town of Attegrat and the mountains in the background.” Flourish of trumpets! A herald arrives, the part being enacted by Major Grant, who states that the King is unable to come in person to wait upon the valiant Knight, but that he had sent his dear brother, the Grand Vizier, together with his Archbishop, to assure the Knight of his friendship. Bustle and excitement in the [pg 219]camp. A pause. Sound of strange and barbaric music in the distance. This gradually approaches, and then, from the rear of Bluebeard’s Castle—of which a full description was given in my last—enter the head of procession, consisting of—three men blowing upon cow-horns. These were inserted into the ends of long sticks, and in appearance were very like the long horns used by heralds of old. Their sound is lugubrious in the extreme. Next follows a man of tall stature, beating violently upon a tom-tom. Next follow the musqueteers of the body-guard; dress—dirty clothes miscellaneously draped; bare heads frizzled and oiled; arms—any stage-properties which might come conveniently to hand; old Portuguese match-locks, and new fowling-pieces from LiÈge; double-barrelled guns, and guns with one long and frequently crooked barrel, the large proportion quite incapable of being fired. Next follows the Ambassador of the King on a mule, with gorgeous caparisons of stamped green and red leather, bearing the tiger rampant, the arms of the great potentate his master. The Ambassador is clothed like his body-guard, in whity-brown cloth of coarse cotton, with red ends. With this, as a sign of his dignity, he envelopes not only his body, but his mouth and chin, as do the chiefs behind him. He wears round his neck a fur collar with long tails. The Ambassador of the great King is bareheaded. His hair is arranged, as is the manner of the chiefs of his people, in a series of little plaits, which run in parallel lines from his forehead over the head to the nape of the neck. This style appears to be copied from the Assyrian bas-relievos in the British Museum. Next to the Ambassador of the great King rides the Archbishop, upon a mule similarly caparisoned. The Archbishop is clothed in absolutely white robes, with [pg 220]turban to match. These dignitaries have both stirrups to their saddles, in which the great-toes only are placed, to, I should say, the imminent danger of those members if the mule should stumble. Behind these great personages ride the inferior chiefs. These, either from a feeling of modesty, or from a lack of animals, ride two upon each mule. Behind follow the spearmen of the guard on foot. These are about thirty in number, and are armed with lance, sickle, and shield. When this procession has fairly wound round the corner of Bluebeard’s Castle, it halts to await the arrival of a herald from the good Knight. All this time the barbaric music continues to sound, and is answered by sister Anne and Fatimah in the castle, and by the women all over the country, by a prolonged cry on a single note, kept up with a quavering modulation for a considerable time. This is a welcome on the part of the people of the country to the ambassador of the great King. While the procession halts, the soldiers of the Knight Errant flock out to inspect them. Irregular chorus of soldiers: “My eye, Bill, if these are the sort of chaps we’ve come to fight, we sha’n’t have much trouble with them.” The remainder of the pantomime I will, for brevity’s sake, describe as if it had been a real event in the expedition; but the reader must bear in mind that the whole piece, its accessories and appointments, were infinitely funny and amusing. After conferring with the Commander-in-chief, Major Grant and Mr. Speedy went out to meet the procession, and conducted them through the camp to the tent of General Merewether. During their progress the wild music continued to sound, and nearly effected a stampede of the whole of the animals in camp. In the mean time three companies of the 33d regiment, two of the [pg 221]10th N.I., with the bands of both regiments, were drawn up in line in front of and facing Sir Robert Napier’s tent, an interval of about fifty yards being left. On the flanks of the line two squadrons of the 3d N. Cavalry and of the Scinde Horse were drawn up. When all was ready, the cortÉge advanced, horns blowing and tom-toms beating. At their head strode Mr. Speedy, who is nearly six feet six inches tall, and who carried in his hand a sword nearly as tall as himself. As the procession approached, the military bands struck up and the troops saluted. The din at this moment was astounding. The bands played different tunes, and the cow-horns and tom-toms played no tune at all. Mr. Speedy with some trouble marshalled his ragged irregulars in line, and, this accomplished, led the two ambassadors to the chief’s tent. The tent was one of the long narrow tents called native routies, and, being lined with scarlet, made a very good tent for the reception. Sir Robert Napier was seated with his helmet on at one end. The ambassadors were introduced by Mr. Speedy, who acted as interpreter, and after bowing very deeply, they shook hands with the chief. They then took seats upon the ground beside him; as many officers as could find room without crowding ranged themselves along the sides of the tent, and also took their places behind Sir Robert Napier, the back of the tent being open as well as the front. The conversation commenced by one of the ambassadors stating “that the King of Tigre, his brother, had sent him to assure the British Commander-in-chief of his friendship. The King would have come in person to welcome Sir Robert, but he had been just solemnly proclaimed king, and it was strict etiquette that he should not leave his capital for thirty days afterwards.”

I cannot say that starting a convoy of baggage-mules off at half-past six in the morning is a pleasant operation. The order was “that all animals not off by half-past six must wait until after the departure of the column at seven;” that is, allowing for delays, that they would not be able to start until eight. I acceded to the suggestion of my travelling-companion that we should get our mules off early. At five we were up, completed our packing, had a cup of chocolate and a speedy wash, and then struck our tent, which was wet through with the heavy dew. Folding this up and getting it into a sack meant to contain it only when dry, was a long operation, trying to the temper and very destructive to the finger-nails. However, it and all our final preparations, including the loading the animals, were completed in time, and we were fairly en route at twenty minutes past six. We have long since come to the conclusion that the only way to get our baggage along is to be our own baggage-guard, and one or other of us, generally both, accompany it the whole distance. In this way we got into camp in the afternoon, from an hour and a half to two hours earlier than if we had trusted it only to the servants and drivers, and had we ridden on at our own pace we should only have had to wait doing nothing, and without a shelter, for three or four hours. On the present occasion my friend started with the baggage and I remained behind to see the column start. It was a pretty sight, and must have astonished the natives not a little. First came the 3d Native Cavalry, about three hundred strong, in their soldierly blue-and-silver uni[pg 252]forms. This regiment has had no easy time of it since their arrival at Attegrat, for we are exceedingly short of cavalry, and since the Scinde Horse went on, the 3d have had to furnish all the guards and escorts. For some days they had only eighteen men left in camp. I hear that two hundred horses have arrived at Zulla as remounts in the place of those they have lost by the disease. The strength of the regiment will then be raised to its original number of nearly five hundred sabres. I mentioned in a letter, some time since, that this regiment had been looked upon with some disfavour by the authorities for having started from Bombay without the baggage-animals with which, according to the terms of their agreement, they should have furnished themselves. This fault they have done their best to remedy by purchasing every mule they could get. They have now nearly made up their number, and upon the present march only had to draw thirty-five transport-animals, which they hope in a few days to be able to dispense with. Next to the 3d Native Cavalry came the Artillery, who had, at the last moment, received orders to take four guns instead of three. The guns were all drawn by eight horses. The greater part of the horses of this battery are very light grays, and two of the guns are horsed entirely by grays. They are in admirable condition, and look exceedingly well. Next followed the little party of Engineers. Behind them came the 4th King’s Own, in their light-brown, or rather dust-coloured suits, with their band playing the “Red, White, and Blue.” Colonel Cameron sets an excellent example to his men and officers by having his horse led, and by always marching at their head. The line was closed by the 10th Native Infantry, their band playing “Nelly Bligh.” After the troops came the head of a long [pg 253]line of baggage-animals. Having seen the column pass, I rode on and rejoined my baggage.

The road, as usual, leads over the plateau, with occasional steep ascents and descents. Two of these ascents turned out quite impracticable for artillery, and the road as made reflects great discredit upon those who went on in command of the pioneer force to make the way. The roads are made with short, sharp zigzags, where it is impossible for the horses to draw. Had not the artillery been accompanied by a strong force of infantry it would have been impossible to have got the guns up. As it was, the guns were pulled up the straight places by the horses aided by the men, and then the horses were taken out, the guns unlimbered, and the gun was dragged up first, round the curve, by the infantry with ropes, and the limbers were taken up afterwards. The work of getting the guns up one of these ascents occupied over two hours. Sir R. Napier is naturally extremely angry, as, had he not been informed by the officer in advance that the road was perfectly practicable, he would of course have sent on a strong working-party some days previously. I reached Mai Wahiz at half-past twelve, the 3d Cavalry having got in half-an-hour before me. In the afternoon we had another severe thunderstorm, with heavy rain, which fortunately only lasted about half-an-hour. Our camp at Mai Wahiz, instead of being, as usual, on a plain, or rather a slight rise near the plain, was placed upon a hill. I hear that in future we are always to encamp on a hill, or at any rate, as far as possible, in a defensible position. This shows that our Chief places exceedingly little faith in any protestations the Tigre king may make, and that he thinks that, even if he does come in to the durbar at this place, yet that he is not to be trusted [pg 254]out of sight. Everything at Mai Wahiz is very scarce, and forage dearer than ever. I had to pay two dollars for about eighteen pounds of barley for my baggage-animals, that is, just sixpence a pound. Hay is equally dear. The commissariat served out no hay to the transport-animals, and all that they had after a hard day’s work, with the prospect of another equally hard on the morrow, was three pounds of grain each.

From the foot of the hill we rode for some distance along a wide valley, with water in several places, and a good deal of cultivated ground. Then, after three or four miles of undulating plain we arrived at our camping-ground at a little after three o’clock. The natives here must be either a more warlike people than those whose villages we have passed since entering the country, or they must have much more warlike neighbours. For the villages are almost always surrounded by strong walls, and one or two were perched on eminences, and defended by walls and towers. One very curious castle we passed strongly resembling the old baronial castles one meets with in southern Scotland and the north of England. This was situated upon the edge of a precipice, and the rocks went sheer down from three sides of its walls for fifty or sixty feet. It must be impregnable in a country like this, where cannon are all but unknown. Another fort, which certainly looked of European construction, and if not must unquestionably have been built from a picture of a European fort, was perched upon the top of the mountain near where we descended into the valley. The precipice at its foot was at least a thousand feet down, but curiously enough the fort was in a sort of hollow, higher rocks at the distance of only a hundred yards on either side commanding [pg 255]it. If a European designed it, he certainly did not choose its position. It was a round fort, of perhaps fifty feet high, but it was difficult to judge its height from our position on the plain so much below it. Its diameter was about equal to its height. It had regular lines of loopholes, and appeared to have been built by some robber-chief to enable him to swoop down upon the caravans of traders journeying up and down the road we had just come. This camp is at about the same elevation as that at Mai Wahiz, and the climate is even more charming than that of Attegrat, for the heat is less during the day, and the cold last night was not at all equal to that which we experienced there. The on dit is that the King cannot arrive to-day, but will come to-morrow, and that we shall move out early and pitch our camp upon a plain six miles from here, and there receive him properly.

The King of Tigre has turned out to be a living entity and not a mythical being, as we had begun to consider him. He was to have paid us a visit at Attegrat, but he sent us an ambassador in his place, and no one thought that we should ever hear any more of the King. However, he sent to say that he would meet us upon a plain near Ad Abaga, and we journeyed there, rather incredulous but still hopeful. The King was to have been at the appointed spot upon the day after we had reached Ad Abaga; but messengers sent out brought news that, although it was currently reported that he had started from Adowa, he had certainly not arrived anywhere in the neighbourhood. As it was most important that we should see the King, and remain upon friendly terms [pg 256]with him, and as it was certain that if he had started to meet us, and found that we had gone on without stopping to see him, he would feel grievously affronted, the Commander-in-chief determined to wait. Fortunately, any delay we might experience could be of no importance to us, as it will be impossible to move forward from Antalo until a large stock of provisions are accumulated there, and whether we waited a week at Ad Abaga or at Antalo was perfectly immaterial. Wait accordingly we did for three days, before any reliable news reached us. At last we heard for certain, as we believed, that the King was at Hanzein, twelve miles off. This was on Saturday, and the messenger said that of course the King would not move on Sunday, but that he would come in on Monday morning to Mai Dehar, the appointed meeting-place.

On Sunday Major Grant, Captain Moore, and Mr. Speedy set out to meet the King, and accompany him to the meeting-place. They rode out to Hanzein, and found a considerable body of armed men there, and some of the princes. They were told that the King was five miles further on, and five good miles they rode, and, again inquiring for his Majesty’s whereabouts, found that the miles must have been Irish ones, for that the King was still five miles further on. They decided to return, and at Hanzein had another interview with the men in authority there. These worthies tried very hard to induce them to concede, on the part of Sir Robert Napier, that he would come as far as Hanzein to meet the King. Their object in this was, of course, to enhance the dignity of the King in the eyes of his own people, by making us come as far out of our way as possible to meet him; Major Grant, however, altogether refused to concede this point. He stated [pg 257]that we had already waited four days, and that unless the King moved forward at once, Sir Robert Napier would proceed upon his journey without seeing him. Major Grant then started with Major Pritchard of the Engineers, who had gone out to Hanzein with Lieutenant Morgan and his party of signallers, to return to camp. As it was dark when they started, they of course lost their way, and wandered about for some hours, leading their horses, which had two or three awkward falls. They arrived in camp at two o’clock in the morning. They did not pass any of the signallers’ posts on their way, and consequently Lieutenant Morgan and his men remained up all night, to flash the news across the hills of the hour of the King’s starting from Hanzein. Captain Moore and Mr. Speedy remained at Hanzein until the next day, and were hospitably, if not agreeably, entertained, with a repast, consisting of a large dish of half-baked bread, over which melted fat had been poured with a liberal hand. While they were occupied in endeavouring to find a morsel less saturated with fat than the rest, two or three of the chiefs showed them how the food should be eaten, by thrusting some exceedingly dirty hands into the mess, rolling up a large ball, and cramming it into their mouths. Captain Moore underwent a strong internal struggle, but conquered his desire to rush into the open air, and nobly shut his eyes and followed the example. Mr. Speedy—whose residence in Abyssinia has rendered him the reverse of dainty in matters of food—had already set-to with the grave complacency of a man who enjoys his repast.

On Monday a messenger came in who reported that the King had really arrived at Hanzein, and would come on to Mai Dehar early next morning. A native in our pay having [pg 258]verified this report, orders were issued for a move at daylight the next morning. The party was to consist of the four guns of Murray’s battery, a squadron of 3d Native Cavalry, four companies of the 4th Regiment, one company of the 10th Native Infantry, the party of Engineers with their signalling and photographing apparatus, and two elephants. Although Mai Dehar was only five miles off, the troops were ordered to take their tents and baggage, as it was uncertain at what hour the proceedings might be over; and as the next march on to this place was only ten miles, they would be able to march straight through the next day, and would therefore lose no time by sleeping at Mai Dehar.

By seven o’clock we were all out of Ad Abaga, and by half-past nine the tents were pitched at Mai Dehar, which was not more than a four-mile march distant. Mai Dehar is a basin of about half a mile in diameter, with gradually-sloping sides, and possesses no picturesque effect whatever. A small stream runs through it, and the whole basin is covered with a long thick growth of hay. Orders were at once issued that no fires should be lighted or pipes allowed until the grass was all cut in the immediate vicinity of the tents, and for some little distance round the horses. This, of course, was a work which occupied some time; and at about eleven, before the fires were fairly alight, Mr. Speedy, who had gone straight on to meet the King, rode into camp with news that he had left him half an hour before, and that in a very few minutes he would arrive. In ten minutes a dark mass of figures showed upon the crest of the opposite rise of the valley, and presently a tent of bright scarlet colour rose in their midst, and showed that the King was present among them. Mr. Speedy again rode off to say that the Commander-[pg 259]in-chief would move forward to meet him in an hour. By that time the men had breakfasted, and at half-past twelve, when the bugle sounded the assembly, all were ready for any work they might be called on to do. They were formed in line a few hundred yards behind the tent, which had been pitched near the little stream for the durbar. Major Grant, Captain Moore, and Mr. Speedy now rode forward again towards the King’s tent, accompanied by an escort of 3d Native Cavalry. Several officers who were not on duty, but who had come over on leave from the camp at Ad Abaga, also rode upon the flank of the cavalry, and among them I took my place.

The native army was ranged in line on both sides of the royal tent; they were not formed in any regular order, but stood thickly together, with the extremities of their line advanced in the form of the crescent of a young moon. There was no pressing or noise; all stood perfectly quiet as we advanced, and it was evident at once that we were in the presence of a greatly more formidable body of men than we had given Abyssinia credit for possessing. The only sound that broke the silence was the beating of a number of drums. These I afterwards had an opportunity of examining, and found them to be of the same shape, and as nearly as possible the same size, as our own kettledrums. Instead of being of metal, they were of thin wood, and were covered with skins with the hair on in the place of parchment. They were carried one on each side of a mule. There were six mules so laden, and the drums were beaten, some with small sticks, some with large and heavy ones. These last served as big drums, and kept time to the constant beating of the small ones. They played a sort of tune which, if rather monotonous, was by no means unmusical. The principal drummer had a red umbrella held [pg 260]over his head—a distinction enjoyed by no other person except his Majesty himself. When we had arrived within forty or fifty yards of the King’s tent we halted. Major Grant and his party alighted from their horses and entered the royal tent, and the cavalry were drawn up in line parallel to the road the King would pass down on his way to the stream. Major Grant’s mission was to inform the King that Sir Robert Napier was ready, and would advance to meet him as soon as he saw the King had left his tent. Some personages in authority now gave some orders, and a body of four or five hundred men took their places a short distance in front of the royal tent. Some of these men were on foot, some mounted; the great majority were armed with guns of some kind, and in addition carried shield and sword. The remainder had lances. There was a far greater variety of costume, and much more brilliancy of colour, among their body than we had any notion of seeing in Abyssinia. The majority, of course, had the whitey-brown cotton cloth of the country, with generally the red ends and fur tippets with long ends which are distinctive of a warrior of rank. Many, too, had a lion’s mane over their shoulders, which is a sign that they have slain many enemies in battle. Very many too had on long shirts of state, reaching to the knees, and made of richly-brocaded silks, generally green, blue, or red, with yellow flowers. Some, the greatest dandies of all, wore mantles of velvet, violet being the prevailing colour. These reached a little below the waist, and were then cut into long tails of peculiar pattern, which, moreover, was always similar. These, who gave orders, and who were probably generals, were not bareheaded, as were all the rest of the Abyssinians, but had a coloured silk-handkerchief over [pg 261]and around the head, Bedouin fashion, and falling down upon the neck, with a sort of fillet or coronet of metal, which looked like tin, but may have been silver, round their foreheads. Of this body, which was evidently composed of chiefs and warriors of distinction, about equal numbers were mounted and on foot. Very many of the mules carried double, which is here considered by no means an infra-dig. method of travelling. In front of this body of men the band of drums took up their station, and in the rear five or six men blowing an instrument somewhat resembling a clarionet in appearance, except that it has only one note. Some of them were, however, pitched a tone above the others, so that the general result, although not so musical as that of the drums, was yet not discordant.

The King now came out of his tent, and mounted a mule. A dozen or so princes and personal attendants rode or walked near him, and two attendants walked one on each side, leaning against the mule, and supporting him, as it were, in his saddle. One held a large Magenta-silk umbrella over the King’s head. Kassa is a man of seven or eight and twenty. He was plainly dressed in a swathing of native cloth, the only distinction between himself and an ordinary warrior being that, in place of a broad scarlet end, it had a sort of Cashmere pattern. The princes had similar borders to their robes. The King wore a fur tippet, and the cloth was wrapped round and round him, so that his arms were not visible, and he looked a mere bunch as he sat upon his mule. The cloth was brought up round his chin and mouth. He was bareheaded; his hair was plaited in lines from the forehead to the back of the head, in the peculiar manner I have before described, and which exactly resembles that upon some [pg 262]of the Assyrian wall-paintings in the British Museum. These plaits are each tied at the end, and form a little bunch of tails at the back of the neck. Kassa has a mild and rather irresolute face, and was evidently nervous at the unaccustomed ceremony he was about to go through. I believe that his face does not belie his character, and that he is quite guided by three or four of his principal advisers. Puppet kings are not confined to Abyssinia. Major Grant rode by the side of the King, and conversed with him through the medium of Mercher, the interpreter. The mule ridden by the King, and those of the principal personages, all had the gay green-and-red embossed leather trappings I described as adorning the mule ridden by the ambassador who came in to Attegrat. There were several priests in the train, distinguished as usual by their turbans and the whiteness of their robes. In my description of the King’s dress I have said nothing of his leggings or shoes, for the reason that he, as well as everyone of his nation, had bare legs and feet. Immediately the King had started, I closed-in with the unattached officers behind him, and the 3d Native Cavalry came on behind us. In the rear of them, and keeping a perfect line, came the main body of native troops—horsemen in front, footmen behind them. The whole effect was extremely picturesque, and, as seen from the opposite side of the valley, must have been most striking. As soon as we were in motion, we saw Sir Robert Napier approaching from the opposite camp. He rode in a howdah upon an elephant with scarlet trappings; behind followed the other elephant, and his staff rode around him. The troops remained in a line at some little distance in rear of the durbar tent, the 10th Native Infantry being drawn up as a guard of honour in front of the tent. When [pg 263]we were about three-quarters of the distance down the slope upon our side of the hill, the body-guard in front of the King halted, and fell back upon each side, leaving a road, through which the King and his personal following rode. The 3d Native Cavalry followed, but the natives formed line again in the rear and halted. Sir Robert Napier arrived first at the stream, but the elephant refused to cross, and the General then alighted and mounted his horse, and again advanced to meet the King, who had by this time crossed the stream. Sir Robert and the King shook hands, and then rode together to the durbar tent. There everyone dismounted, and as many as the tent would accommodate entered. I was fortunate enough to be one of these. The King and the Commander-in-chief took seats in two chairs. Five of the principal princes sat upon the ground. The King’s shield-and-spear-bearer stood behind him, and several other native attendants stood near. About a dozen European officers ranged themselves round the sides of the tent. At the moment of entering the tent, the guard of honour and the artillery fired a salute, which caused a great commotion among the horses, and I have no doubt rather startled and alarmed the King of Tigre’s army, which had all remained upon the other side of the stream. Throughout the day the greatest discipline prevailed upon this point, not a single man crossing the stream, with the exception only of the King’s personal attendants.

The conversation between Sir Robert Napier and the King was interpreted by Mercher and by his brother, who formed part of the King’s retinue. Both these brothers are Tigre chiefs, who were curiously enough sent to Bombay to be educated, and to learn the English language. The conversation [pg 264]was of the most formal kind. Sir Robert expressed his hope that the King was not fatigued with his journey. The King replied that he was never tired when he came to see his friends. Here the conversation languished a little, and then Sir Robert expressed the pleasure that we English, who sent missionaries to all parts of the world, experienced at finding a Christian nation here in the midst of Africa. To this the King replied, that he did not wish to see strangers in his country, but that if strangers came he preferred that they should be Christians. This was a decided damper; but Sir Robert, after a pause, rallied nobly, and said that we had a most friendly feeling for all the Abyssinians, with the exception only of the bad men who held our countrymen captive. The King replied that Theodore was our common enemy, and that he hoped we should punish him as he deserved. The General then inquired the names of the princes present, and found that one was an elder brother, and two were uncles of the King. These were all intelligent-looking men, with fine faces for Abyssinians. The King’s elder brother is a much more resolute and determined-looking man than the King. These men, as well as the King, we could now see, upon their sitting down and getting their arms a little free from the wrappings of cloth, had very large golden armlets, or rather wrist-ornaments, of exactly the same shape as a lady’s gauntlet. Sir Robert now said that he wished to present the King with some presents, to demonstrate our friendship. These were a double-barrelled rifle by Purday, some handsome Bohemian glass vases, and the horse upon which he himself rode when he met the King. By the way, I question much if the King will ever trust himself upon the horse, which is a high-spirited and rather restive animal, and which upon our leaving the [pg 265]tent completely overpowered the native to whom it had been delivered, and had finally to be taken up to the royal tent by its own syce. The meeting now was over, that is, it was over as a public meeting, and all retired from the tent except two or three confidential officers on either side. What had preceded was merely a formal opening, and the interview was now really interesting. I am, of course, unable to give the details, but the general substance was that the King now entirely threw aside his reserve, and said that he hoped for our support in the disputes which will arise upon Theodore’s defeat. Sir Robert Napier “assured the King of our friendship, but stated that his Queen had sent him here solely with the design of rescuing our countrymen, but that she had given him strict orders on no account to take any part in the unfortunate dissensions which were taking place in the country. We have, as we marched onward to this place, seen everywhere the signs of these unfortunate wars, in the fields lying uncultivated, and in the deserted villages, and he hoped to hear that with the destruction of the power of Theodore, this most unfortunate state of things would cease. At the same time he assured the King that he might rely that if we could give him no support we should also abstain from giving any assistance whatever to his rivals.” Kassa afterwards, in answer to a request of the Chief, promised that he would send messengers to the principal towns upon our route, ordering the inhabitants to do all in their power to furnish us with provisions and supplies. After the interview was over, the King and princes were supplied with wine and spirits, not, however, without some difficulty, for there are very few bottles of wine remaining in the camp of the advancing column. There was then a pause of an hour or two, after [pg 266]which our troops were paraded, and went through a few manoeuvres before the King. These were not of much interest, as no powder was expended, and the ground, being full of deep holes, hidden by long grass, was most unfavourable for the movements of either artillery or cavalry. The action of the Armstrongs was also explained to the King. After this the troops returned to camp, and Sir Robert Napier and his staff crossed the stream with the King to pay a return visit to the royal tent. The natives, who had been clustered by the stream, all rose at his approach, and the drums struck up their strange music. We were now enabled, riding as we were among a dense throng of natives, to judge more accurately of their number and appearance than we had hitherto been able to do. The general opinion was, that there must have been about three thousand, three-quarters of whom were armed with guns. They were a fine, active-looking set of men, and in a rough country would make formidable antagonists even for trained soldiers. These men are known to be brave, and are fairly armed, but Theodore’s army has always defeated them. Theodore’s army must, therefore, have been by no means despicable antagonists; and although that army has now dwindled to four or five thousand men, it is probable that that four or five thousand are the most desperate characters and the most warlike warriors of his original force. Strong as Magdala naturally is, and garrisoned by a few thousand such men as these, it may possibly be a hard nut even for a British army to crack.

Arrived at the King’s tent, which is of considerable size, Sir Robert Napier entered with the King, princes, and as many of his staff as the tent would accommodate, and took seats upon the carpeted ground. Here refreshments, [pg 267]small flat bread, and native liquors of fermented honey and herbs, and native spirits, were served round. Sir Robert Napier was declared by the King to be a good warrior, and the King presented him with his own lion-mane tippet, his own sword, shield, and spear, the mule he had himself ridden at the interview, with its saddle and trappings, and a silver gauntlet. After about half an hour the Commander-in-chief took his leave.

As I rode up towards the tent I was smoking a cigar, and this attracted the greatest attention and astonishment from the natives who were crowding round. It was evident they had never seen a cigar before. I gave away several to the chiefs, who, however, were quite in the dark as to what to do with them when they had got them. I offered them my cigar to light those I had given them from; but they had no idea what to do with it, and were on the point of putting it into one of their mouths, when I rescued it, and struck a light with a vesuvian. This astonished them even more than the cigar. However, they lit their cigars, and smoked them with manifest content, occasionally lending them to their friends for a whiff. Numbers of applications then poured in upon me, which, however, I was obliged to refuse, for cigars are very precious articles here. I left when Sir Robert Napier did, as it was nearly six o’clock, and I wished to get back to Ad Abaga, where I had left my tent and baggage, before it became too dark to follow the track.

The opinion of the King and his principal warriors respecting our troops is similar to that expressed by the natives at the review at Attegrat, namely, that our troops would be invincible upon a plain, but that they would have no fear of us upon a mountain side. Our cannon are not so large as they [pg 268]had expected to see; but they said that they had heard great things of our rockets, which rush through the air with a tremendous noise, and destroy those who are not killed by their explosion by a noxious vapour which is fatal to man and beast. They are thoroughly convinced that we have great power of enchantment; and this will probably do more to retain their neutrality than any fear of our arms would do. They say that by enchantment we have tamed the elephants; by enchantment we have kept the rain from falling near the sea-coast, and interrupting our work in the pass; by enchantment we have made the locusts disappear the moment we came up on to the high country; and therefore that were we offended, we should by enchantment also prevent rain from falling over the whole country, and thus create a dreadful famine in the land.

As the natives are impressed by enchantment, and are not at all impressed by our soldiers, I should propose that in any future war of the same kind there should be an officer appointed under the title of magician to the forces, and that he should have subordinate officers as assistant magicians and deputy-assistant magicians. The duty of these officers should be to exhibit signs and wonders. Mr. Anderson might perhaps be induced to undertake the control of the machine tricks and general magic; Mr. Home would do the spiritual business, and could astonish the native mind with the sight of elephants floating in the air, or could terrify a negro potentate by tweaking his nose at a durbar by invisible fingers. One of the deputy-assistant magicians should be a pyrotechnist, whose duty would be to light up the camp with unearthly fire, and to place strange portents in the midnight sky. Certainly, had this department been organised before the expe[pg 269]dition began, and had a few of its officers been present, we might have dispensed with several regiments, and the cost of the expedition would have been greatly lessened, however munificent the remuneration of the chiefs of the department might have been. Should Government adopt this suggestion, and I have no doubt they will do so, I shall expect a valuable appointment in the corps.

On the day after the last mail left we were favoured with a prÉcis of the letters from Magdala which had arrived three days previously. They contained nothing of any great importance. Gobayze and Menelek were both near King Theodore; so near, indeed, that the camp-fires of the former could be seen from Theodore’s camp. They were both evidently afraid to attack him; but Gobayze had sent him an insulting message, and Theodore had at once put the unfortunate herald to death. Theodore was making very slow progress; and it was thought that he would not arrive until the end of March at Magdala. He was ten hours’ ride from that fortress, which would mean about twenty-five miles. Even if he travels at half the reported rate of speed, he will be there before us. The opinion is general now that we shall have a fight at the end of our journey.

When I wrote, four days since, from Doullo, I mentioned that we had news of flour and other stores being purchased in considerable quantities at Antalo, and that if supplies continued to come in, the prospects of the expedition would be altogether changed. But I certainly did not anticipate that we should be able to advance from here under three weeks or a month. Two days before we arrived here, indeed, there were rumours of a much earlier move than had been anticipated; and an order was issued that in all probability we should be compelled to go forward without either rum, tea, or sugar. Of course everyone is prepared to make great sacrifices, and to submit to every hardship which may be absolutely necessary. Every reduction of kit, the dismissal of the native followers, and the diminution of carriage, has been received not only without a murmur, but with actual satisfaction by everyone. The reductions were felt to be necessary; for in no other way would it be possible to penetrate this inhospitable country. It was considered pro[pg 274]bable that beyond LÂt we should have to go without tents, and with only a blanket and one change of clothes; and I have not heard an expression of repugnance or complaint at the prospect: but this order to proceed without rum, tea, or sugar, was received with the gravest dissatisfaction by men and officers of all ranks. It was not as a matter of comfort that it was objected to, but as a matter of health. Rum is an article difficult of carriage, and can be dispensed with; sugar also might be done without; but tea is upon a campaign like this an absolute necessity, if the men are to have no rum. It is not that the tea is nice, for it certainly is not; it is positively nasty. It bears no resemblance whatever to the herb we drink in England as tea; at the same time it is an absolute essential. The mornings and nights are very cold; the troops are on the move at half-past five in the morning, when everything is saturated with dew; they are hard at work all day; their picket-duty is very severe; and to give them with their breakfast in the morning and their supper at the end of their day’s work nothing but cold water to drink, was simply to send the whole army into hospital. Were the water good, the results might not have been so disastrous, but it is almost always drawn from stagnant pools, and is the reverse of wholesome. Officers generally drink the water only after filtering, but the men never think of taking the trouble. Boiling the water is no doubt even superior in its effect to filtering it; but the men would certainly not boil the water if they had nothing to put in it. They would drink nothing but impure water, which in a country where the changes in temperature are so great and so sudden as they are here, would most certainly bring on dysentery in a very short time. The [pg 275]privation of their rum would in itself be much felt among the men. They have all been some years in India, where rum forms part of a soldier’s regular ration. They are accustomed to its use, and no doubt would feel somewhat its sudden privation. Had they been troops fresh from England, it would have mattered comparatively little. Our adjutant-general, Colonel Thesiger, is a total abstainer; I believe that is the polite expression for a teetotaller. Of course his theory is, that men are much better without spirits; and the present will be a great opportunity for testing the effects of a Maine Law. I believe, however, that officers and men would give up their rum and their sugar without a murmur where tea is but allowed them; but I am sure that bad water alone will lay up half the troops. Nor will there be any saving in carriage by leaving tea behind. We shall have to take a greater weight of medicines than we should of the tea. The reason given for thus leaving behind what everyone feels to be, bad as it is, the most precious portion of our stores, was, that we can procure any amount of native carriage, but that the natives will only carry flour and grain, and refuse to undertake the carriage of rum, sugar, and tea, partly because of the greater responsibility, and partly because of the shape of the barrels and casks, which are inconvenient to pack upon the little oxen and donkeys. Everyone asks, Have we, then, no carriage of our own? Have we no available transport-mules besides those carrying the tents? One mule will carry from 150 to 200 pounds weight, which would give 500 men their day’s ration of tea. The advance brigade will not contain much over 3000 men, and consequently fifty mules will carry two months’ rations of tea for them; and it is an extraordinary [pg 276]thing if, out of the 15,000 baggage-animals in the transport-train, fifty cannot be spared to carry an article which everyone feels to be all-important both for the health and comfort of the troops. I am sure that Sir Robert Napier himself consented with the greatest reluctance to the proposition, and that he shares in the general satisfaction which is experienced at the report that the commissariat find that some of the natives are consenting to take on tea, if it is packed in skins or in stout bags, and that therefore a proportion of tea will at any rate be taken on.

I began this letter by saying that the news of the purchase of flour and grain would, if true, completely change the whole prospect of the expedition. I am happy to say that the news we heard is now more than verified, and that the commissariat are purchasing at the rate of 12,000 lbs. or 14,000 lbs. of flour a day. In addition to this, they are buying sufficient bread for the daily consumption of the troops. Very large convoys of native baggage-animals have also come in during the last few days, and we find ourselves with two months’ provision of all kinds, and four months’ provision of flour already in hand for the whole of the advanced division. This is a more forward state of things than I expected to have seen in another two months, and entirely alters the prospect of the campaign. Had we found the same dearth of food here which we experienced all along the line, we must have waited so long that it would have been an impossibility to have returned before the rain. Now there is a chance of our so doing.

Sanguine spirits even mention the 1st of April as the probable day for reaching Magdala. If we are there at the end of the first week in April, we shall, should Theodore [pg 277]await us and no hitch occur, start upon our return march by the 15th, pass through this place by the 7th of May, and be at Zulla in another month, that is, before the rains begin. I have, however, seen so many unforeseen obstacles, so many unavoidable delays occur since we first landed, that I cannot put any faith in this sudden express speed. When we arrived here two days since, the intention was that we should march on the 6th. I hear that our advance is now postponed, at any rate, until the 9th; and I should not be surprised if we were here for a week after that date. The fact is, no one knows anything whatever about the roads in front of us. All travellers, with one exception, who have journeyed here have turned to the right at Antalo, and have gone down the valley to Socota. The one exception is Dr. Krapf, and his report of the road is far too vague to be of any practical utility. It only requires a look to the southward of this camp to give us a notion of the country we are going to travel through. A chain of rugged mountains with peak rising beyond peak extends in an unbroken line. Over or through them we have somehow to get, and at present we know next to nothing about them.

A pioneer force of two companies of the 33d, some of the Beloochees, some Punjaub pioneers, sappers, and miners, and the Scinde horse have gone on ahead to make roads, and the reports we have at present received from them are the reverse of favourable.

LÂt is our next halting-place; and until we hear that the road to that place is practicable for mules, it is no use advancing from here, where we are living upon the country and consuming no stores.

I now return to the narrative of our march here. From [pg 278]Doullo to Icullot was only an eight-miles’ march across a by-no-means difficult country. The next march on to this place was twelve miles, and the country was very undulating; but such an excellent road had been made by the advanced brigade that the mules had no difficulty whatever in crossing it. This road was better than anything we have traversed since we left Senafe. The Commander-in-chief, however, did not go by the same route, but turned off to visit Chalicote, a considerable town lying a little distance out of the line of march.

Chalicote is more prettily situated than any town we have hitherto seen. It lies in a well-wooded valley. The church is in precisely the same style as that at Attegrat, with frescoes drawn apparently by the same hand. I so fully described the church at Attegrat, that any details respecting this would be superfluous.

The Chief was accompanied by some of his staff, and by Mr. Holmes, of the British Museum, who had hoped to acquire some old manuscripts there, especially as he had heard of one said to be of great value, and bound in silver gilt. It turned out, however, to be quite modern; and up to the present time Mr. Holmes, although he has been indefatigable in his search, has not succeeded in finding any manuscript of great antiquity; he has, however, heard of some at a place a little distant from our line of march, which he hopes to acquire upon our return, and which, if they correspond to the description given of them, will be of very great value. It was hardly to be expected that, skirting as the line of march does upon the very edge of the table-land of Abyssinia—a portion of the country remote from the principal towns, and exposed to the constant devastation of bor[pg 279]der warfare—any remains of very great antiquity would be met with. Had our course led through Axoum, which was the capital of that strange Greek possession of which Adulis or Zulla was the seaport, we might have expected some interesting discoveries to have taken place. There is yet a possibility that we may see Axoum; for although, if there is any chance of getting out of the country before the rainy season, we shall of course make every effort to get back in time, there is a rumour that, if we are obliged to pass the wet season here, a portion of the force will go back by Axoum and Adowa.

This camp is called Antalo, but it is a mere name of courtesy, like that of a good many English railway-stations. It is nearly six miles from the town of Antalo, going by the most direct and most difficult road; eight miles fully by the more accessible path. The position of Antalo was certainly selected more with a view to its defensibility than for its convenience. It lies upon a small undulating plain six or seven hundred feet above the general level of the valley, and at the foot of a very lofty and precipitous hill which rises nearly sheer up fifteen hundred feet above it. This hill is accessible only at one or two places, and walls are built across them; so that it forms a safe retreat for the inhabitants of Antalo in the event of their being attacked by a superior force. This hill fortress is called Amba Antalo. A position such as this is no unnecessary protection in this part of the country, for Antalo lies at the very edge of the territory of the warlike Gallas. These tribes, whenever their harvest is a bad one, gather together and make a foray upon the villages of the plain, and sweep off crops and cattle. Everywhere on the plain are ruined villages, which attest [pg 280]the frequency and ferocity of these forays; and Antalo itself has evidently, and at no very distant time, contained four times as large a population as it does at present. I rode over there the day before yesterday to the weekly fair.

I described fully the market at Attegrat in a former letter; and as this was precisely the same scene upon a rather larger scale, I have little to add to what I then said. Very large quantities of flour were brought in, and the commissariat secured a considerable supply. Numbers of mules, donkeys, and cattle were also there. The small-goods market too was crowded, and herbs and grain of all sorts—onions, chillies, cloth, and most of the other articles I mentioned as having seen at Attegrat—were here, with the exception only of pumpkins, of which I did not see a single specimen. I, however, bought three pounds of coffee, which I look upon as a great prize, as it will be a change from the excessively bitter herb termed by courtesy tea. The commissariat have purchased a considerable quantity of coffee, and I am told we shall find it much more plentiful as we go forward. This will be a very great boon for the men.

I think that the people here are more merry and full of fun than those at Attegrat; they enter, or rather attempt to enter, into conversation much more freely, and really seem anxious to do anything for one. I had at least a dozen of them yesterday all talking together, and endeavouring to make out what I wanted to find out about some small packets of lead-ore which were used as a medium of exchange. It was a rich flaky ore, containing quite eighty per cent of lead, and marking paper freely. I was very desirous of finding out which part of the country it came from; but neither my pantomime nor the united endeavours of the [pg 281]lookers-on to understand me availed to elicit the required information.

During my progress through the country I have not seen any sign of mineral ground, with the exception of some very rich samples of ironstone. During the last three or four days’ march the formation has changed several times from sandstone to a hard blue limestone, and vice versÂ. On the faces of these bare hills it would be easy even at a distance to detect the change of colour or the rising ridges which generally indicate the existence of a vein of mineral; but, as I have said, although I have carefully examined the country as I passed through it, I have seen no mineral indication whatever.

To return to the fair. The scene, as at Attegrat, was very amusing; and the attitude of the groups—the women sitting about everywhere with their baskets, the men leaning upon their spears, the cattle standing about in groups—the whole scene reminded me strongly of an Irish fair, barring only the absence of the friendly pig, with his agonised shriek of expostulation and disgust.

Antalo consists of four or five villages, each standing upon the summits of small rises. They were formerly connected together, and even now are surrounded by ruined huts. The last blow Antalo suffered was three years ago, when it was attacked by the Gallas, incited and led by a rebel against Kassa, named Waldo Yasus. Both Antalo and the villages on the plains suffered greatly at that time; and a terrible attack of cholera, which swept over the country shortly afterwards, completed their ruin. The houses have all high conical roofs, thatched with rushes. Each house has a courtyard surrounded by a high wall. The women here [pg 282]are less picturesque in dress and less pleasing in feature than those of Attegrat. Their morality is lax in the extreme. “A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband:” I fear there are very few crowned heads in Abyssinia. I had left my horse at the foot of the ascent from the plain up to Attegrat, and had walked the last two miles. It was a very hot day, and one of our first inquiries upon reaching the fair was for “tedge.” We were conducted to what answered to a public-house. Here we entered, and passing through a sort of outer passage, found ourselves in almost outer darkness. It was some time before we could see sufficiently to avail ourselves of the invitation to be seated, but presently descried two seats or couches, built up of stone and covered with skins. The room was semicircular in form, and very lofty, going up to the thatched roof, which was lined with bamboo; on either side were small chambers, which appeared devoted to miscellaneous purposes; for after we had been some minutes in the place, and were able to see a little, we made out that a donkey was standing placidly at the door of one of these chambers, and that a goat and a fireplace were the principal articles of furniture in the other. The walls of the room were smoothly plastered, and as an abode it no doubt possessed the advantage of coolness, even in the hottest weather. Tedge, as I have before said, is a liquor made from fermented honey and water, with herbs, and tastes like a mixture of small beer and lemonade made from mouldy lemons, and was brought in in a flask very like a Lucca oil-flask, but rather flatter, and with a larger neck. From the neck of this flask we drank by turns; and as it did not hold more than half a pint, and as we were four in number and the clay was hot, we demanded more. It seems that no more was strained; so a [pg 283]large jar was brought, the wife of the proprietor put a fold of her very dirty garment over its mouth, and strained the liquor through it into the flask, and we drank it. In calmer moments and in other climes, it is probable that we should not have done so—probable even that a feeling of sickness would have overpowered us. I am happy to say, however, that the army in Abyssinia has altogether overcome any feeling of squeamishness. I have seen some rum drank in which several cockroaches had committed suicide; and I have assisted to eat honey which was black with ants whose appetites had caused their untimely death. As for cooking, I confess that I avoid the cooking-fires. I have seen sights which have tried my philosophy to the utmost, and am now quite content to eat the very excellent dinners our servants prepare from rations, and not to think of the processes the meat has undergone. My tent-companion and myself pride ourselves much upon our cooks. They are two Goa Portuguese, and are, we flatter ourselves, beyond all comparison the best cooks in camp. Their soups are excellent, their cutlets the best I ever tasted, their preserved potatoes, baked in cakes, delicious. They sent up birds in as good a style as I can get them in a London club. Their pumpkin-pie—when we could get pumpkins—was the talk of camp; the fame of their baked sheep’s head, with brain cutlets, came to the ears of Sir Robert Napier himself. Imagine, then, our feelings, when the stern decree was emanated—all native servants whatever are to be sent away; each officer is to carry 75 lb. of luggage, including bed, cooking-utensils, and plates and dishes; and three officers are to be allotted to each bell-tent. Heads of departments only are to be allowed a bell-tent between two. At first we had believed that this order did not apply to us; [pg 284]that having our own baggage-animals, and providing our forage, &c. at our own cost, and the tent being our own property, we thought that it was a matter which concerned no one but ourselves as to what or who we took on with us. But we were deceived. Quartermaster-generals, eager to effect the greatest possible cutting down, had their eyes upon the special correspondents and the scientific gentlemen who accompany the camp; and we were officially informed that we must be amenable to the same rules as others. We pointed out that we found our own carriage, and therefore that the weight we carried mattered to no one; but were sternly informed that if we purchased grain for our animals, there was so much the less available for the public service. To a certain extent this was true; and so we said that we were ready to go on with the weight that other officers were allowed, but that the tent in the first place was our own, and that it would be quite impossible for three men to write in a tent together. We were ready, therefore, to carry less than the permitted 75 lbs. of baggage, in order to have half a tent each; so that our total kit, including tent, would not exceed the prescribed 140 lbs. Our friends in the quartermaster department were quite unable to grant us this request, and it was only upon a personal application to Sir Robert Napier that we gained our point, as, upon our stating the case, he at once consented to our retaining our own tent to ourselves. The next question was that of servants. “All servants to be sent back, a grass-cutter only being allowed for each horse.” At first we thought we should be obliged to send our servants back. Fortunately, however, a grass-cutter is allowed for each horse; and as we have each two horses, we have retained our cooks under the title of grass-cutters for our [pg 285]second horses. We are not singular in our management, and there are very few staff-officers who have not managed in some such manner to retain their servants. The fact is, that a rule of this sort bears very much more hardly upon a staff-officer, or a civilian living as we are, than it does upon a regimental officer. A soldier-servant is allotted to each officer upon application, and regimental officers who pick handy men from their own companies, and who live three in a tent, have their three soldier-servants between them as usual. It is far otherwise with a staff-officer: he may obtain a soldier-servant from a regiment; but that soldier does not know him, and will not work for him as he will for his own officer. In the next place, the soldier has certain regimental work to do, which will take him away from his master’s tent for a considerable portion of the day; and lastly, a staff-officer is liable to be sent away on duty from the camp where the regiment to which his servant belongs is stationed. In our own case a soldier-servant would be useless; we might wish at any moment to push on to the pioneer force, or to accompany the Commander-in-chief upon a short expedition, and we should then be left without any servant whatever. At any rate, the order is generally evaded. Were it not that two months must elapse before a copy of this letter can come out to us, I should not speak so freely upon this point, as we should be having a special committee of officers of the quarter-master-general’s department assembling to consider the question of “evasion of the general order relating to servants by officers and civilians attached to the army.”

I am happy to say that Major Minion, of the commissariat, arrived here early this morning with a large convoy, carrying among other stores a large quantity of rum; and it is now finally decided that a certain quantity of both rum and tea shall be served out daily to the troops on the advance. This happy state of things has been principally brought about by the energetic remonstrances of all the medical officers, and by their representation of the disastrous effect which the sudden privation of tea and rum would have upon the health of the troops, especially under the circumstances of the water being so bad. Sir Robert Napier himself was, I know, most averse to so extreme a measure; and nothing but the most urgent feeling of the necessity of pushing on in the lightest and most speedy manner could have induced him to consent to it; and I am sure that he is as pleased as anyone that he is able to continue the issue of what are really essentials to the soldiers.

It is still intended that we shall march on the 9th instant; indeed, orders were issued for a forward movement for both yesterday and to-day. The orders were, however, countermanded, for the road is not practicable for more than one day’s march. As to the state of the road beyond, we receive contradictory reports. Colonel Phayre, with his usual happy, sanguine way of seeing things, states, I hear, that it is not a very bad road; while the engineer officer, on the other hand, reports that it will require a great deal of work to make it practicable for baggage-animals, especially for the elephants with the guns. The reason why the order was given for the troops to march forward at once was, that [pg 287]Colonel Phayre sent in to say that Waldo Yasus, the destroyer of Antalo, had sent in to say that he should oppose our passage. It caused quite an excitement for a time. But I learn to-day that Brigadier-general Field, who commands the pioneer forces, has sent in a letter to say that the whole thing is a mistake, and that Waldo Yasus is perfectly friendly, and that some of the Scindees have already gone on.

M. Munzinger, whose name I have frequently had occasion to mention as French consul at Massowah, and as accompanying the force as political adviser and interpreter, has gone on ahead on a mission to Gobayze. M. Munzinger has been some years in the country; he has married an Abyssinian woman, and owns villages and land near here. He is therefore well known to the natives, speaks their language, and is in every respect very well fitted for an expedition of this sort. On the other hand, there is some dissatisfaction among members of the staff, who say that an officer ought to have been selected for a mission of such importance, and should of course have been accompanied by an interpreter. It is urged, too, that the French look with great jealousy at our proceedings, and that their interests are totally opposed to our own; and that therefore a gentleman, however eligible in other respects, who is a French official should not have been intrusted with so important a mission. From all I have heard of M. Munzinger, I think there need be no objection upon the latter score; but I confess that I agree with those who think that a British officer—Major Grant, for instance—ought to have gone as our ambassador, or at least should have accompanied M. Munzinger. M. Munzinger was, I believe, sent forward by Colonel Merewether without Sir Robert Napier’s knowledge. [pg 288]As M. Munzinger went forward, he had an interview with Waldo Yasus, who expressed some little fear that we, as the friends of Kassa, might intend to attack his amba, or fort, which stands on a lofty rock immediately beside the defile through which we pass. M. Munzinger, however, tranquillised him upon that score, and assured him that we should in no way interfere with any dissensions in the country. Waldo expressed himself as perfectly satisfied. M. Munzinger has now nearly reached Lake Ashangi, and his report of the road is decidedly favourable.

The gentleman to whom this expedition is most greatly indebted, and who has done infinitely more with the natives than the whole of our so-called politicals and interpreters put together, is Mr. Speedy. I have already mentioned that Mr. Speedy was sent for from New Zealand to accompany the expedition, Sir Stafford Northcote having strongly recommended him to Sir Robert Napier. The summons arrived somewhat unexpectedly to Mr. Speedy, for he had already written to Colonel Merewether volunteering his services, which had been declined by that officer. Mr. Speedy, however, came off in three days after he received General Napier’s communication. His services here have been simply invaluable. Almost every useful negotiation with the natives has been conducted by him. He speaks the language exceedingly well, and is unwearied in his work. He hears complaints, receives chiefs, and is in fact at present our great medium of communication with the natives. He may be said to have completely extinguished the little light of our former politicals. Unquestionably he would have been the man to have sent to Gobayze; but even had not Colonel Merewether sent off his emissary, M. Mun[pg 289]zinger, without consulting Sir Robert Napier, the Commander-in-chief would not have parted with Mr. Speedy, who is now his right-hand in all his communications with the natives. Among the other stores which have arrived to-day is some tobacco. The quantity is quite insufficient for the wants of the troops during their advance; but even a small supply per man will be a very great boon, for at present there is hardly any tobacco left among them. Even the officers’ supplies are beginning to run short, and they as well as the men will soon be reduced to smoke the country tobacco, which is a disgusting mixture of tobacco and cow-dung formed into flat cakes.

The generals of the advanced force are Brigadier-general Field (who has only just been promoted), who commands the pioneer force; Brigadier-general Schneider, who has the first brigade; and Brigadier-general Wilby the second. Brigadier-general Collings, who has hitherto commanded the advanced brigade, is to be left behind here. This has naturally given rise to very strong comment. General Collings is far senior in the service to any of the men who have been thus chosen for the post of honour, and he has seen probably as much active service as the other three officers together. He is in every respect an excellent soldier and a most popular man; and there is a general feeling that his being thus passed over is a most undeserved slight, to put it in the mildest form. There is another reason why he should have certainly formed part of the advance. The first division is composed almost entirely of Europeans; and yet two out of the three officers chosen are Indian officers who have never commanded an English soldier during the whole of their service. General Collings has not, as far as I have [pg 290]heard, in any way neglected his duty; and his case is a matter of regret and sympathy with every officer with whom I have spoken—I mean, of course, outside the charmed pale of the official circle.

The general health of the troops continues excellent. There have been a few cases of dysentery, but the hospitals are all but empty.

Antalo is low, that is, in comparison with some of the places we have marched through: it is little over 6000 feet above the sea, that is, 3000 feet lower than Ad Abaga. The nights are consequently much milder than those we have lately experienced. The sun is hot between eight and ten in the morning; but at the latter hour a breeze springs up, which continues to blow with violence all day, and renders the heat of the sun, which would otherwise be great, bearable and even pleasant. The spirit of the troops is no less good than their health. Men who were marching up with the first wings of the 4th and 33d would suffer anything from sore feet rather than say a word on the subject, lest they should be left behind. One case of this illustrates the feeling even more strongly. The day upon which we marched out from Attegrat, three of the men of the 4th in some way obtained some liquor, and were convicted of drunkenness upon the line of march. This is a serious military offence, punishable by fifty lashes; but Colonel Cameron told them that, as they were all good-conduct men, he would only punish them by sending them back to the wing behind. The men all came forward and requested as a favour to be flogged instead of being left behind. Nothing could speak in stronger terms for the spirit of the troops than this. I am glad to say that, in consideration of their previous good conduct, Colonel Cameron felt him[pg 291]self enabled to pardon them. This fact, in itself, is a better answer to those who argue for the abolition of corporal punishment in the army than a hundred pamphlets would be. The only cogent reason of any force which the objectors to corporal punishment can allege is, that it degrades a soldier in his own eyes, and that he is good for nothing afterwards. Now, this is not the case. I have at various times spoken to hundreds of soldiers on the subject, and their answer is almost invariably the same: “It is not the punishment in which is the disgrace; it is the crime. If a man is flogged for stealing, he gets it thrown in his teeth afterwards that he has been flogged for being a thief; but if he gets a drop too much, and perhaps is impudent to a sergeant or officer, he may be flogged, but he will never have it brought up against him as a disgrace afterwards.” The present instance proves this. These three soldiers, all good-conduct men, who had seen seven years of service, all considered that there would be much greater disgrace in being sent to the rear than in being flogged.

There is not very much shooting in this neighbourhood; a few guinea-fowls and grouse, and an occasional hare, have been bagged, but even these are scarce. As for the wild-beasts, of which we were to see so much, they simply are not. The rhinoceroses, who were to dispute the passage of the defiles; the alligators and hippopotami, who were to lurk around the watering-places, and to render the fetching a jug of water a service of as great danger as was the drawing a goblet from the enchanted fountain in our dear old fairy tales,—all these monsters are unknown here. We hear of lions, indeed, but somehow they are never found in the parts of the country we traverse. The hyena and jackal [pg 292]are the only animals met with which could, even by courtesy, be called wild-beasts. These, indeed, swarm; and their numerous holes are a serious hindrance and danger to riders; beyond this they are harmless, and one would as soon think of shooting a fox as a jackal. Sportsmen are seriously disappointed; almost everyone has brought out either rifle or gun, and many have carried both. Now, when our luggage is limited to seventy-five pounds, the weight of even one rifle, with its bullet-mould and a good stock of lead and powder, is a very material consideration; and, after the sacrifice of many little comforts to retain the rifle, it is very hard to find that it is quite useless. There is still a faint hope that we may find large game near the Ashangi Lake; but, considering that it is over 5000 feet above the sea, I can hardly think it is likely that we shall find any large game there, except perhaps elephants. The owners of fowling-pieces are better off. There have been few camping-grounds where a good shot might not get a guinea-fowl or two in an hour’s ramble; and a guinea-fowl well cooked is one of the best game birds I know. Powder and shot are very valuable; indeed, they cannot be bought at any price, unless one is fortunate enough to find some one who, in the readjustment of his baggage, finds that he cannot possibly carry on all his stock of ammunition.

The plains here are singularly devoid of flowers: I never travelled in any country, indeed, where there was such a complete absence of wild-flowers; excepting, of course, the little watered dells, which I have described in previous letters. There is one solitary sort of flower, however, which I have met with in the plains in the neighbourhood, and which differs from any I ever saw before: it is a pea. The flower [pg 293]is of the size and colour of the “everlasting-pea;” but, instead of growing as a climber, the flower grows upon its own stalk from the ground. These flowers grow in clusters; but there are no leaves or stems, with the exception of the flower-stalk itself, three or four inches in height. The flower has a scent exactly resembling that of a violet, but less powerful: the seed is contained in a long, narrow pod, like that of a wallflower.

Scorpions are rather abundant here; and so, I am sorry to say, are white ants. It is not that one has any peculiar objection to white ants. They are certainly repulsive-looking insects, with their flabby white bodies and their big yellow heads, but that is of little consequence; and if they would but content themselves with walking about the tents and climbing over everything, as do other ants, together with spiders of every size, and a few beetles, one would not wish to interfere with their pleasures. Unfortunately they will not amuse themselves in this harmless way: they shun the light, and work in darkness, and their work consists in eating holes in the bottom of one’s portmanteau, or in the waterproof-sheet under one’s bed, or one’s saddles, or books, or anything else which may come handy to them.

Now, as we are going to leave most of our portmanteaus and luggage here until we return, this propensity of theirs becomes a grave inconvenience. I fancy that we shall find our luggage, when we return, in a very dilapidated condition. There is only one satisfaction,—our clothes are rapidly getting into a state beyond which even white ants can effect little further damage.

The remaining wing of the 4th Regiment arrived two days ago, and the second wing of the 33d marched in this [pg 294]morning. We have therefore all the troops now collected in readiness for the forward move, with the exception only of a portion of the Beloochees, the 3d Dragoon Guards, and the elephants with the six-inch mortars; together with the elephants to carry Murray’s guns. All these will, it is said, be here in two or three days. There is another thing of some slight importance lacking: this is money.

The commissariat have purchased such enormous quantities of flour and other stores, that the money brought up is exhausted. Fortunately another treasure-convoy is expected in a day or two.

This morning, at a quarter to six, General Staveley had all the troops out for a field-day. A deserted village upon a rising ground was attacked and carried in excellent style; but the manoeuvres would have no interest to a general reader beyond those of any garrison field-day.

When Colonel Phayre went ahead on the day of our arrival at Antalo, and reported that the road was rather bad, but not impracticable, every one looked at the range of peaks ahead of us and had serious misgivings. An order was issued for our march upon the 7th, and a party of pioneers were sent on to clear away any slight obstacles which might occur. The report of their commanding officer as to the state of the road was most unfavourable, and a wing of the 33d were sent out to assist. In consequence of the reports which came in, the march was postponed to the 9th, and Captain Macgregor, of the quartermaster’s department, was sent out to report. On the evening of the 8th a joint report from [pg 295]this officer and Captain Goodfellow, of the Engineers, was received. It stated, “that they knew nearly every pass in India, but that in their experience they had met nothing whatever to compare to this defile, and that the Sooro pass was child’s-play in comparison. With the 800 men at work, it would, they calculated, take another ten days’ labour to make it practicable for mules.” All this time Colonel Phayre was still in front, but his reports gave us no idea of the true state of things. In the mean time we were receiving reports from Mr. Munzinger, who, as I stated in my last, had gone ahead to see Gobayze, and he said that the road, although difficult in places, was by no means bad. Of course, on the receipt of the reports of Captains Macgregor and Goodfellow, the march was again postponed. Everyone was indignant. Sir Robert Napier, I have reason to know, was more indignant than anyone, for his heart is set upon getting onward as fast as possible. On the 9th arrived an officer from the front, with the astounding intelligence that he had just ridden down the other road, which was known to exist; that it was six miles shorter; it passed over the mountain range at a point 1500 feet lower than the other, and presented throughout its whole distance no serious difficulties whatever. This it appeared, was the very route that Munzinger had travelled, and the discrepancies between his accounts and the real state of things were at once explained. At first the news was received with absolute incredulity. It seemed impossible that the quartermaster-general could have kept the troops at work for a week upon an impracticable road, when a good one lay ready at hand. The road, too, which Colonel Phayre had not explored is called the Royal road, which in itself was sufficient to show that it was the best and most fre[pg 296]quented of the two. But the fact was, our political officer had heard that a rebel chief had a fortress upon this road; the same chief whom I mentioned in my last as having been reported by Colonel Phayre as opposing our way. The man really is perfectly friendly, and was at first rather more afraid of us than our quartermaster-general was of him. However, the mere fact of his being there was assumed to be a good reason for our not taking the road. And so a precious week has been wasted, and all the labour thrown away. The new road is, of course, not yet passable for the elephants with the heavy guns, but Sir Robert will push on with the 4th Regiment and the steel guns, and the 33d and the pioneer force will set to work and get it in order for the rest of the force as soon as possible. It is not often that we find a pioneer force engaged in making a road after the head-quarters and part of the army have gone by. Our first march is only eight miles. The distance thence up the pass is nineteen. I believe that the troops will do it in two days, but that Sir Robert Napier, with an escort, will go straight through to Attala, in order to judge for himself of the real state of things.

Our items of news from the rear are but of slight general interest. Captain St. John reports, I am told, that the natives have ceased to damage the telegraph-wires; but as a per-contra, he says that the wires are frequently broken by the baboons, who climb up the poles, and hang on the wires by their tails. I am assured that this is an absolute fact. One of the mule-drivers near Attegrat shot a native the other day. The man, who was armed with a gun, attempted to rob the mule; but the driver resisted, wrenched the gun from his hand, and shot him. The robber is not dead, but [pg 297]lies in a precarious state. The lesson was greatly required; but instead of being rewarded for his conduct, the mule-driver got a dozen lashes! I hope that the next driver whose mule is attacked will allow it to be looted, and that the functionary who has just so ably instructed mule-drivers not to defend the public property will be ordered to pay the cost of the stores stolen. Tents have been erected here for the reception of such luggage as cannot be carried on under the present regulations. I sent my portmanteau in this morning, and had the pleasure when moving it of finding that the white ants had eaten a large hole in the bottom. I do not expect to find any remains of it, or of its contents, upon my return. Captain Moore, the Commander-in-chief’s interpreter, has gone on ahead to pacify the local chiefs, and to assure them that we have no intention of molesting them. No better man could have been selected for the office. Captain Moore speaks almost every known language, and has had as much experience of native potentates as any man living. Major Grant has gone on to Attala, to buy provisions, &c. An officer of his African experience and standing would have been far better employed as an ambassador to King Gobayze; while bargaining with natives would have been much more in accordance with Mr. Munzinger’s experience and powers. Some tobacco has come up, and has been distributed among the troops, to their great satisfaction. During the last few days the troops have been exercised in turning out rapidly on the alarm being sounded. The sentries have, too, been placed and instructed as if in front of an enemy, who might at any moment make a night attack.

The natives here unanimously express their hopes and wishes that we should take possession of the country and [pg 298]become their masters. Our style of paying for everything we require has taken them entirely by surprise. It is altogether contrary to their experience. There is no doubt that they are extremely poor, and terribly ground down, and many of their very numerous vices are, to a certain extent, excusable upon this score. They are so poor that they will sell anything for dollars—their corn, their flour, their donkeys, their cattle, their wives, or their daughters. They are a terribly priest-ridden people. I should say that no people in the world pay such extortionate dues. The priests claim two-fifths of the gross produce; of the remainder one-third is claimed by the King; then comes the local chief: so that finally the unfortunate cultivator gets less than one-fifth of the crop he has raised. It is no wonder that the people are poor, and that in times of drought, or when the locusts sweep over the land, or the rebels, more destructive still, carry off crops and herds and flocks, famine stalks through the land. There is no doubt that our mastership would be an unmixed blessing to them, but it would certainly be the very reverse of advantageous to ourselves. From our landing at Zulla to the present time we have passed through a country more barren than any I ever traversed. Except for grazing purposes it is absolutely valueless. Here and there, in the valleys, are little patches of cultivation by the side of the streams; but in the whole two hundred miles we have passed through, looking east and west as far as the eye can reach, I do not think that we have seen, in all, five hundred acres of cultivated land. Taking the two hundred miles north and south by, say, ten miles east and west—in all, two thousand square miles—I would not take the fee-simple as a gift. I am not, of course, suggesting that the ground we have [pg 299]traversed is to be taken as a fair sample of Abyssinia. Unquestionably it is not so. It would be as fair to land in the north of England, and to skirt the sea-coast, keeping on the Cumberland, Westmoreland, Lancashire, Welsh, and Cornwall hills, and then to pronounce England a sterile country. Still, by what we have seen, by the ranges of mountain-summits discernible everywhere in the far west, it is evident that a very large portion of Abyssinia is mere grazing-land; and it is probable that the valleys and low-lying plains, which are extremely fertile, would be unhealthy for European constitutions. Whatever ideas may have been entertained at one time as to our taking possession of a country so rich, so fertile, and so salubrious as this was represented to be, the experience of this expedition must have entirely dispelled this notion. The general aspect of the country is so bare, the fertile portions so distant from the coast, the roads so impracticable, that any idea of English colonisers settling here, as suggested by Mr. Dufton and others, is simply preposterous; and in addition to all this, a very large force would be required to keep a warlike and turbulent people in order. We see by the English papers that “A British Taxpayer” has been writing indignantly, demanding why two or three thousand men were not sufficient for this paltry business. If the British Taxpayer had been out here, he would not have asked such a question. British soldiers are by no means men to overrate difficulties, or to hold their enemies at higher than their real value. But the universal opinion here is, that we have not one man too many in the country. The tribes of Shohos on the sea-coast; the King of Tigre, who can summon 20,000 or 30,000 men to his banner; the fierce Gallas, through whom we have [pg 300]still to pass,—all these have been, and probably will be, friendly. But why? Simply because we are strong enough to keep them in order. No one doubts for a moment that if they thought that they were strong enough, they would fall upon us instantly for the sake of plunder. If the three thousand men who, according to this critic, would have been amply sufficient, could have been endowed with the agreeable faculty of going for three months without food, and if their horses had been similarly gifted, they would without doubt have been amply sufficient. Three thousand British soldiers, as long as they keep together in a compact body, could march from the Mediterranean to the Cape of Good Hope. But, unfortunately, men and animals who can go for three months without food are scarce in these degenerate days. Our experience here is that, with the exception of meat, no food whatever is procurable between Zulla and our present most advanced post, with the solitary exception of Antalo. Grain for the animals is almost as scarce. We have bought small quantities, indeed, at most of the stations, but we never get it for the first few days after our arrival. It is only after we have been at a place for a short time, and when the people find out how large a sum we pay for it, that they bring in even small quantities. Then the problem would present itself: these three thousand men must be fed. To be fed, they must carry supplies with them. These supplies must be conveyed upon baggage-animals. These baggage-animals must be fed. But there is no food to be obtained as they march on direct. Therefore, it is evident that dÉpÔts must be formed, and these must be guarded; communication must be kept up, roads must be made to some extent, for there are many places perfectly impracticable for [pg 301]loaded animals. And so the three thousand men would be frittered all over the country, and would be harassed to death by overwork and watching, and it is certain they could never penetrate to Magdala. Has a “Taxpayer” ever read the history of the French campaign in Spain? Has he any idea of the number of hundred thousand men who marched into that country, and of the numbers who returned to France? A very small proportion of the deficit fell under British steel and lead. They were accounted for by the peasantry. They died, shot down upon baggage-guard, cut off when in search of provisions, surprised when in small parties, harassed to death by overwork. Such would have been the fate of three thousand men landing in Abyssinia. The people here are as brave as the Spaniards, the country is beyond all comparison more difficult, and the resources which, it offers to an invader are as nothing to those of Spain. Our force, as it is now constituted, is sufficient to overawe the country, and it is fortunate that it is so. For I say fearlessly, and there is not an officer here who would not support me in that opinion, that if the people were hostile, we could not even with our present force have ever hoped to reach Magdala. It would have been a sheer impossibility. A mere passive resistance, the driving away of flocks and herds, and the burning of the grass, would have brought us to a standstill at Senafe; while the bare idea of defending our communication, and guarding the enormous trains required for our march of three hundred miles through a barren, hostile, and most difficult country, is so supremely ridiculous as to be laughable. The experiment of the three thousand men, had it been tried, would have ended in a disaster such as, with the exception of Cabul, the British arms have never [pg 302]experienced, and it must afterwards have been retrieved with a force of three times the strength even of our present one, and at an expenditure which might have taught even the “British Taxpayer” that penny wisdom is an equivalent for pound foolishness.

A general order has just appeared regulating the whole distribution of the troops; and as this is a final arrangement, it will no doubt be interesting to all who have friends in the army here.

First Division.—Major-general Staveley, K.C.B., in command; Colonel Wood, deputy-adjutant-general; Major Baigrie, deputy-quartermaster-general. Pioneer Force: Brigadier-general Field. Troops: forty sabres 3d Native Cavalry; forty Scinde Horse; 3d and 4th company Bombay Sappers and Miners; two companies 33d Regiment; two companies Beloochees; one company Punjaub Pioneers.

First Brigade, Brigadier-general Schneider.—Troops: Head-quarters wing 3d Dragoon Guards, 3d Native Cavalry, Scinde Horse, G battery, 14, Royal Artillery, A battery 21st company Royal Artillery, 4th King’s Own, Head-quarters and eight companies 33d, 10th company Royal Engineers, Head-quarters and two companies Beloochees, Head-quarters wing 10th Native Infantry.

Second Brigade, Brigadier-general Wilby.—Wing of 12th Bengal Cavalry, B battery 21st Royal Artillery, two 8-inch mortars, with detachment 5th battery 25th Royal Artillery, Rocket Naval Brigade, K company Madras Sappers, seven companies Punjaub Pioneers, wing of Beloochees.

It will thus be seen that the 1st Division consists of four entire infantry regiments—the 4th, 33d, Beloochees, and Punjaub Pioneers—and a wing of the 10th Native Infantry, [pg 303]of the 3d Native Cavalry, the Scinde Horse, a wing of the Dragoon Guards, and a wing of the 12th Bengal Cavalry, three batteries of Royal Artillery and two 8-inch mortars, and three companies of Sappers and Miners and one company of Royal Engineers; an admirably-selected force, and which, as long as it kept together, would be invincible.

Another general order has also been promulgated, which I have very great pleasure in giving, because it does full justice to a most meritorious and hardworking body of officers. I have the more pleasure in giving publication to the order, as it thoroughly indorses the opinion I have all along stated that the transport officers were in no way to blame for the confusion which took place at Zulla:

“General Order.—Head-quarters, Camp Antalo, March 4th.—The Commander-in-chief has lately received from the Director Transport Train, Abyssinia field force, a full and particular report of the service rendered to the corps by the officers under his command. His Excellency has perused this report with much satisfaction, and it is most gratifying to him to find that, in spite of the numerous and extraordinary difficulties with which the officers of the transport-train have had to contend, and notwithstanding the hard and unceasing work they have had to perform, they have, almost without exception, displayed an amount of steady determination to do their best which is beyond all praise. The Commander-in-chief begs to assure Major Warden and the officers under his command that the work performed by them has not been overlooked, and shall not be forgotten. His Excellency trusts that one and all will remember that upon their individual exertions depends, in a great measure, the success of the expedition. The transport-train, for reasons far beyond [pg 304]the control of the officers belonging to it, has just commenced to assume that military organisation so requisite to its well-being, and for want of which at first it suffered so severely.... The Commander-in-chief is well aware how much the services of the officers of the transport-train have been depreciated, and how unfairly blame has been attached to them for shortcomings beyond their control. His Excellency, however, assures them that he has never for a moment lost confidence in them, nor has he ever doubted that their exertions would eventually bring order and regularity out of confusion and indiscipline.... All cannot of course work under the eye of the Commander-in-chief, and comparatively few can accompany the advanced force; but his Excellency will make no distinction when the campaign is over between those who were in front and those who were necessarily in the rear. All by good work can contribute materially to the success of the campaign, and it will be by that standard, and by that alone, that his Excellency will be guided when making hereafter his report upon the services performed by the officers under his command.—By order of his Excellency the Commander-in-chief. Fred. Thesiger, lieutenant-colonel, deputy-adjutant-general.”

Never was liberal praise more deserved, and it will be most gratifying to the men who have slaved and toiled almost night and day in the face of every possible discouragement.

My last letter was dated from the pretty camping-ground bearing the scriptural denomination of Meshech. Thence to Atzala was a march of thirteen miles. The road led up the valley, as upon the previous day, for about six miles, and then we had a long, but fortunately tolerably gradual, climb up the saddle of the ridge. On the right of the summit of the pass is the Amba of Waldo: it is considerably the highest peak in the neighbourhood,—isolated, four-sided, and apparently perpendicular. As far as we could see, there were no walls or artificial defences. The huts which contain the garrison are built on ledges upon the face of the rock. Ledge is hardly the proper expression; for a ledge is a projection, whereas the huts are built in deep scores which run round the face. The rock overhead completely overhangs them; so that they are to a certain extent sheltered from the wind, which would, at an elevation of 12,000 feet above the sea, be otherwise almost unbearable in such an exposed condition. Waldo himself was at the top of the pass when we went along. He is a man of about thirty-five, with a very intelligent and pleasing face. A number of his warriors attended him, and he was very much interested in our various uniforms and appointments. He chatted for some time with General Staveley, who fired-off his revolver for his edification. The articles, however, that pleased him most were telescopes and field-glasses, and he expressed a strong desire for one. He was evidently acquainted with their use, for he shut one eye and examined the country through my telescope with a nautical air which would have done no discredit to the most aspiring midshipman. The Commander-in-chief presented [pg 310]him with an excellent glass on the following day; and he will now from his eyrie be able to see any advancing foe in ample time to make his preparations for defence.

The descent from the top of the pass was much steeper and more severe than the ascent had been, and the train of mules was a very long time making its way to the bottom. Every animal that fell, every load which shifted, brought the whole line to a standstill. However, patience and care will effect wonders; and we got to the foot of the steep portion without a casualty among the animals.

At Attala, or Atzala, as I find it is more correctly spelt, we found the Commander-in-chief encamped with the head-quarter wing of the 33d and a small escort of Scinde Horse and the 3d Native Cavalry. The Commander-in-chief intends, I believe, in future to accompany the Pioneer Force, and to judge for himself as to the capabilities of the roads, and to direct the work to be done to make them passable by the main body. Colonel Phayre will, however, still continue a couple of days’ march ahead, with a small escort. Sir Robert Napier gets through an immense quantity of work in the course of a day; and the following order, which has been lately issued, shows that he is unable to trust the political business, such as it is, out of his own hands, but is compelled to be his own political officer, as well as his own explorer: “The Commander-in-chief directs that in future all reports forwarded for his information by officers in the intelligence department may be sent to the political secretary, through the general or other officer commanding the division or post in which they may be serving. In special cases, where a more immediate communication to his Excellency may seem expedient, reports may be sent direct; copies of them, how[pg 311]ever, being at once furnished to the officer’s immediate military superior. All instructions for the guidance of officers in the intelligence department will be sent to them by Captain Tweedie, political secretary, who must be considered as the sole officer authorised to convey to them his Excellency’s commands.”

Atzala is situated in an extensive basin, apparently surrounded upon all sides by lofty hills. The abundance which we found at Antalo still continues, and the commissariat are able to purchase grain for the animals. I found upon my arrival in camp that Sir Robert Napier intended to push on at once with the Pioneer Force, leaving Sir Charles Staveley to follow, with an interval of a day or two, to allow the road to be improved. Sir Robert has also sent back for the light guns of Twiss’s Mountain Train, and for the Naval Rocket Brigade, both of which formed part of the 2d Brigade, according to the published list. There are two explanations of this order; the one being that he finds the roads so bad that he thinks it will perhaps be impossible to bring the heavy guns of Murray’s battery on without great loss of time; the other theory is, that he is now convinced that we shall have to fight at Magdala, and wishes to arrive there with as strong a force of artillery as possible. The advices from Magdala tell us that Theodore had received exact intelligence of our whereabouts and rate of moving; and that whereas, believing us to be nearer, he had decided upon waiting at Dalanta; and he has now pushed on with the greatest energy, and arrived with his guns and convoy quite close to Magdala. This is, I think, the best news we could receive. Theodore has evidently made up his mind to await us at any rate in his fortress. He may fight, he may pretend friendship, and [pg 312]offer us the prisoners; but, at any rate, he will be there: whereas, if he had not been able to reach Magdala, he might have retired at our approach; and if he had ever taken to the hills, our expedition would have been almost interminable: once in Magdala, and surrounded, we are sure of him. Magdala may be, and I believe is, very strong, and may hold out for weeks; but we know that sooner or later we must have it. I believe that the guns we have will be useless, except for their moral effect upon the enemy. A shell thrown on to the summit of a rock fortress when the garrison were sheltered behind great boulders, or in caves or crevices, might alarm them, but would probably do very little harm. Our stock of missiles is very limited, and we shall probably have to take the place at last by assault. If Magdala at all approaches Waldo’s fortress in strength, an assault in the face of some thousands of determined men, commanded by a desperate chief like Theodore, will be no child’s-play even for British troops. A few stones rolled down would sweep the path of a whole line of stormers. A breastwork of great boulders rolled into position from above would baffle the bravest. People talk lightly of Magdala and its savage garrison; but if they prove true to their king, it will prove as hard a nut as British prowess ever had to crack. Officers speaking to me upon the subject have argued Magdala is probably not so strong as many of the hill-forts in India which we have in our time taken. This is no doubt true; as is the fact that the defenders of these hill-forts were as brave, and were in addition much better armed than are the garrison of Magdala. But, on the other hand, the defenders of Indian hill-forts knew what British troops were; they knew that our power was almost infinite; that we were the masters [pg 313]of all India; and that sooner or later we could accumulate force enough to capture even the most seemingly impregnable fortress. It was, they knew, a mere question of time with us. However physically brave, the knowledge that final over-throw is certain, will to a great extent paralyse the efforts of any body of men. The reverse of all this is the case with Theodore’s soldiers. They have never fought but to conquer; they have a fanatical persuasion of the might of their leader, and believe in his star; they have been always told that Magdala is impregnable. For their enemies they have neither fear nor reverence. The few white men they have seen have been men of peace—missionaries and such-like—living but by their sufferance, and now for years held in the degrading position of captives. Theodore has impressed them with the belief that we are a mere nation of traders, and that although we manufacture good guns, and can use them at a distance, yet that we are wanting in courage, and no match for his men in a hand-to-hand fight. Doubtless, too, he will impress upon them the fact that we cannot have brought a large stock of ammunition for our guns across this long and difficult route; and that therefore his men have only to keep quiet and let us expend our missiles, and that then our power of doing harm will be at an end. He has, too, promised that they shall divide among themselves all our treasure and spoil; and as by this time they have probably heard that we are absolutely strewing the country with dollars, their idea of our probable spoil must be something magnificent.

However, the problem of war or peace will soon be solved. At the rate at which we are now proceeding, another three weeks will see us in front of Magdala. Indeed, if we continue to press forward at the present rate, we should be at [pg 314]our journey’s end in a fortnight, or, rather, we should be there if the whole of the mules did not die. To-day’s march has been fifteen of the longest and heaviest miles ever traversed, with scarcely a mile of level ground the whole distance. The difficulty began at the very start, for we had at once to climb a high and steep hill, and to descend at once on the other side. So long a time did this occupy, so many were the stoppages and breakdowns, that although the first of the train started before seven, it was ten before the last of the convoy of six hundred had even commenced the ascent. The Commander-in-chief was not to start till one o’clock, and a small party of mules would leave at that time with his tent, &c. I therefore had, very fortunately as it turned out, resolved not to start my animals until the same time. After passing over the first hill, we came to another, which was the highest we had yet come to, being two hundred feet higher than the summit of the pass upon the preceding day. The ascent, although very long, was not very steep; indeed, all the hills we have crossed are much more precipitous on the southern than on the northern side. Here our difficulties commenced; for at the top of the hill were numbers of the animals who had started five hours before us. The descent was blocked up, and for ten minutes at a time everyone was brought to a stand-still. Great was the noise, tremendous the shouting in various languages. Once upon the descent of the hill, everyone kept in single file; but the confusion was greatest at the top, as everyone strove to get his own animal first upon the track. Here were Beloochees, Scinde Horse, Engineers, 33d men, and 3d Native Cavalry, all trying to insinuate the animals of which they were in charge into the straight line. Not unfrequently [pg 315]some unfair effort to interlope ended in well-merited punishment, by one of the mules getting jammed between others, and his load pulled back over his tail. At last we got our animals fairly on to the descent, which was very steep and winding, and then there was nothing for it but patience. With our own animals we had no trouble, for we had long ago found out that although a string of four animals goes well enough along a plain, the only way to get them down steep places, or over very rough ground, is to unfasten them, and to make a servant go to each mule’s head. In this way, if the loads are properly packed upon Otago saddles, they will go anywhere; the mules can pick their way without being hurried, and the loads will not shift; whereas the government mules, being fastened three or four in a string, under the charge of a single driver, are continually coming to grief. The leading mule steps over stones or down steep places with comparative ease, and when on level ground steps boldly forward; while the unfortunate animals behind him, who are still on the difficult ground, are unable to pick their way, their heads are pulled into the air, they hang back and vainly resist, and either lie down at once, or are pulled off their legs. The present state of the Bombay saddles assists to aggravate the evil. The leather loops which were attached to them, and through which the ropes which fastened the baggage passed, are now in a majority of cases torn off, and the consequence is, that the load at once slips forwards or backwards immediately the animal gets upon an incline, and the saddle remains on the back, while the load rolls off. The mountain-side was thickly covered with shrubs; and as we went down in a long confused line, with the baggage-guard scattered at intervals along it, most of the men being in[pg 316]cessantly employed in repacking the loads, with their arms piled near them while they did so, one could not but reflect that we shall have to travel in a very different fashion when we approach Magdala. Two or three hundred men, armed only with spears, concealed among the bushes, and rushing out at a given signal, could have annihilated the whole convoy before a bayonet could have been fixed or the slightest resistance offered. I believe that it is settled that we shall take no tents forward with us for the last three or four days’ marches; and this, with the fact that a comparatively small number of mules will be required for the commissariat stores, will diminish our train to one-fourth of the present size. If Theodore has made up his mind to fight, there is little doubt that he will begin while we are in the passes. He has always been famous for his night-attacks, and we have been especially warned to beware of sudden attacks. The King of Tigre was very impressive on this score. Waldo, the other day, also warned us most earnestly to be upon our guard night and day. We had a turn-out of the troops this morning at Atzala. It took place at about ten in the morning, and was for a few minutes quite an exciting affair. With the exception only of Sir Charles Staveley and a few of his personal staff, no one knew whether it was a real alarm or not. We were now in the Gallas country, where we had been told to expect raids, and it was quite possible that the convoy, the rear of which was still mounting the hill, had been suddenly attacked. When, therefore, the first bugle sounded the alarm, and after a pause sounded again and again, quite a thrill ran through the camp. All the regimental bugles repeated the calls, and the camp presented the appearance of an ant-hive suddenly disturbed. The men [pg 317]tumbled out from their tents in hot haste, buttoning-up their tunics and buckling-up their belts; the cooks and butchers left the half-cut-up carcasses, to run to their tents for their arms and accoutrements; officers shouted for their swords; the men who were out for wood or water came scampering up; the mule-drivers rapidly drove in the animals which were grazing on the plains; the dhoolie-bearers mustered round the palkees; the grasscutters buckled on swords of various descriptions; and I observed my servant busily engaged in loading a great double-barrelled pistol. The result showed that an enemy must manage to creep up very close before being observed, to catch us unawares. In two minutes and a half from the first bugle, the 4th were drawn up in close order in front of their lines, and being joined by the Beloochees, marched off, throwing out skirmishers before them. In another five minutes the Mountain Artillery were in motion, and the 3d Native Cavalry, who had, when the alarm sounded, been in their native undress, had dressed, saddled, and were dashing across the plain. A little in rear of the infantry the dhoolie-bearers were staggering along with their palkees, and an apothecary was in full chase with an armful of splints and bandages. It is evident that we shall not be caught asleep. Alarms of this sort do good occasionally, but should not be too often repeated, or the men get so accustomed to the cry of “Wolf!” that they will not believe it when the real animal makes his appearance.

But I am leaving myself and my mules an unconscionable time upon the hill; scarcely, however, so long as I was there in reality, for it was getting dusk when I reached the foot, just three hours after my arrival at the top. There was no camp in sight, and, although we knew it was still six miles [pg 318]distant, we were ignorant of the direction in which it lay. Fortunately, none of the loads had shifted, and we were thus enabled to push past great numbers of animals who were standing with their loads upon the ground beside them. It was a very weary and unpleasant six-miles’ march. There was no moon, and it soon became extremely dark; and as the way was a mere track, we were quite ignorant whether we were going in the right direction or not. Of course we followed mules in front of us, but there was no knowing whether they were going right—for a mule stopping for a minute, for a readjustment of the load, would lose sight of the one in advance, and would be just as likely as not to go in the wrong direction, and inevitably be followed by all in his rear. The way was across an undulating plain, with many deep nullahs covered with trees, and so dark that we could not see our horses’ ears. There was very little shouting now; everyone rode or walked along in a sort of sulky silence; the pace was of the slowest, the mules being scarcely able to crawl along. We could not pick our way, for we could not see the ground. Some got off and led their horses, others trusted to their horses’ eyes, and it was astonishing how well the animals picked their way; still there were some awkward falls. Even if one escaped these greater dangers, it was not pleasant to be caught by a bramble suddenly between the eyes, or to be nearly borne over the crupper of the horse by a stiff bough under the chin. At last, just when we had arrived at the conclusion that we must have missed our road, and that it would be better to draw off the way and pitch our tent until daybreak, we saw the camp-lights in the distance, and, after another mile’s travelling, arrived here, as I began this letter by saying, at half-past nine o’clock.

I finished my last letter on the night of my arrival at Mahkan, very tired, very hungry, and a good deal out of temper. We halted at Mahkan on the 17th, as the animals imperatively needed a day’s rest. There can be no question that these very long marches are a mistake in every way. Many of the animals which started at seven in the morning did not get in until ten or eleven o’clock next day; and fatigue of this sort, together with an almost starvation diet, is too much for any animals. The number which actually died upon the road was very small—only three or four, I am told; but then the animals have had a rest at Antalo, and have still some little strength left. I have no hesitation, however, in saying that three or four such marches as this would find the great majority of the transport-train animals hors de combat. It is terribly fatiguing too for the troops. Nor is anything gained by it. The old proverb, “the more haste the less speed,” is amply verified. We did fifteen miles, and then had to halt a day; whereas had we halted at a spring at the foot of the steep descent, six miles from Mahkan, the animals could have easily marched some miles beyond Mahkan on the following day. Fifteen miles over a flat country is one thing, fifteen miles over a succession of mountains, with a rifle, sixty rounds of ammunition, and etceteras, is quite another; and I sincerely trust that we shall not again attempt such a tremendous march as this.

The mule-train is at present all that can be desired. The number of animals attached to the advanced division is 8000, and comprises the Lahore mule-train, the Raul Pindee mule-[pg 320]train, and the A and D divisions of the transport-train. I have had occasion more than once to speak of the efficiency of the Lahore and Pindee trains, which arrived from Bengal in the most perfect order, and which, being marched straight to Senafe, did not share in the general disruption at Zulla. The A division, under Captain Griffiths, I have also spoken of, as being in excellent condition. This is the division which went up with the exploring party to Senafe, and staying there, partially escaped the crash. The D division is commanded by Captain Twentyman; an officer whose energy and devotedness at Zulla during the worst times helped to pull the transport-train through its greatest difficulties, as I had the pleasure of testifying at the time. These four divisions are under the control of Captain Hand, of the Lahore mule-train, who has been appointed their director. He is an able and energetic officer, and his management of the train gives the highest satisfaction. The transport-train authorities at Zulla have nothing whatever to do with the advanced portion, which is under the sole orders of Captain Hand.

On the morning after our arrival at Mahkan the wing of the 33d was sent on to make the road, the head-quarter camp remaining with only the escort of the 2d Horse and 3d Cavalry. In the afternoon, however, a party of Beloochees and Punjaub Pioneers came in. During the day a man came in with one of the curious lozenge-shaped guitars I have already described, and kept up a monotonous chanting for some time. The words Magdala and TÈdros were the only words generally recognised; and it was supposed that he was singing some song he had composed in our honour. An interpreter, however, who happened to come up, undeceived us by explaining that the singer, relying upon our ignorance of the language, [pg 321]was reciting our certain defeat, and the vengeance that Theodore would take upon us. I have no fear of the man turning out a true prophet; but it is certain that the people of the country generally look upon our chance of victory over Theodore as being a very poor one indeed. Yesterday morning we started at eight o’clock on our march to this place, and, owing to the 33d having gone on, our baggage-train was much smaller, and the difficulties and delays proportionately less. We found, upon mounting the first hill, that we had come on an entirely new and agreeable phase of Abyssinian scenery. Instead of the bare hills and plains over which, interspersed with wooded valleys, we had journeyed since we entered Abyssinia, we were transported at one bound into the very heart of Switzerland. Everywhere to the very mountain-tops was a pine-forest. In some places the trees grew closely together, with a thick underwood, which shut-in the path on both sides, and through which the road had been partially cleared by the 33d. At other times the trees were more thinly scattered about, or stood in clumps, affording every variety of park-like scenery. It was a delightful ride for about six miles through these, the road being smooth and easy. At the end of that time our difficulties began, the way lying over and along steep and very rocky hills covered with forest and brushwood. The General had expected to have found the road to a certain extent cleared by the 33d, but owing to an error, for which Major Cooper was in no way to blame, they had scarcely begun their work when we passed, instead of having been engaged upon it for twenty-four hours. Their orders had been to encamp at a stream five miles on from Mahkan, and then to set to work upon the road; and as they had started twenty-four hours before ourselves, it was [pg 322]anticipated that the road would be perfectly practicable for mules by the next day. The 33d were, however, furnished with no guide, and the spring was not visible from the line of march; consequently they marched past it, and did not find out their error until they were miles ahead. Major Cooper then determined upon the best course to be pursued, namely, to march straight on to this station, to encamp there, and to march his men back at daybreak to work upon the road. They had done a good deal when we arrived; but of course the mules stopped their work for a time. In some places the track was very bad; and at one of these, a rocky wall along a ledge, on the face of which we had to pass, I found Sir Robert Napier himself engaged in planning another road to avoid this obstacle, which was dangerous in a high degree for loaded animals, as the projecting load nearly pushed each one over the edge. No accident, so far as I heard, occurred, and the delays were nothing like so long or tedious as those we had incurred on many previous occasions, while the delightful shade, the songs of innumerable birds, and the fresh odour of the pine-trees rendered these halts most enjoyable. At last we reached the summit of the last ascent, and below us, at a distance of five miles, lay Lake Ashangi, a pretty sheet of water of about three miles in diameter. Its shores are in some places quite flat, but in others hills come down with gradual slopes to its very edge. Looking at England for an illustration, I should say that, except in being smaller, it more resembles Ulleswater than any of our other north-country lakes.

Beyond the lake several mountain-ranges rise one beyond another, and offer no prospect of easy journeys for some time to come. Our camp is pitched half a mile from the lake [pg 323]upon ground which slopes gradually down to the water’s edge, above the level of which we are probably elevated thirty feet. The lake and its shores swarm with ducks and geese. The latter are very tame, and walk about to graze in the most unconcerned manner. A great many have been shot, and are, although rather fishy, fair eating. The great difficulty attending the sport is the exceedingly boggy nature of the ground. The fissures spoken of by Mr. Munzinger, and which I mentioned in my last upon the authority of his letters, are simply nonsense. It is a large and in some places a dangerous bog; but it is simply and purely a bog, and nothing else. I was out yesterday with my gun, as were a dozen others, and although I went in above my boots, I came upon nothing really impassable, nor, with one exception, did I hear of any one else doing so. Captain Hogg, however, of the quartermaster’s department, got upon a very bad part of the bog, and was some time finding his way out; indeed, he fell into one deep place, where he would unquestionably have lost his life had he not had a man with him, who was able to put the end of his gun within reach of Captain Hogg’s hand, and so draw him out of the quagmire, into which he was sinking fast. All round the level shore of the lake, a belt of white mud of sixty or seventy yards wide extends. Upon this the game congregate, and are safe from the sportsmen, as the mud will not support a man’s weight, and the dead birds could not be recovered. The geese in plumage more resemble ducks than geese, being dark brown and green, with a large white patch upon the under part of the wing, and which only shows during their flight. A good many escape, who would fall victims to large shot; but the amount of ammunition in camp is scanty, and the shot gene[pg 324]rally of small sizes, which merely rattle against a goose’s feather at a distance of fifty yards.

To-day we have remained here quietly. Another durbar has taken place; the ambassador, or nuncio—the latter, I suppose, being the appropriate word—having come in from the chief Ulem of the Gallas tribes. This man has immense influence with the Gallas, who are Mahommedans; and it was therefore a matter of great importance to conciliate him as far as possible. I have already described two of these official receptions, and as this was precisely similar to those I have before written about, I need not enter into particulars. The only variety was, that the proceedings opened with a long letter from the Ulem to Sir Robert Napier. It was of a most friendly character, and expressed the priest’s concurrence in the “belief which we hold in common, namely,” he said, “the Old and New Testament, and the Koran.” I was not aware that the Koran was an essential part of our creed, but I have learnt something from the Ulem’s letter. Later on, too, he speaks of Mahomet as the only true mediator. These, however, were not, apparently, according to the Ulem’s view, points of vital difference, and he accordingly states that he prays unceasingly in our behalf, which is, at any rate, kind on his part. He warned us very solemnly to be extremely watchful and ever upon our guard, and the general tone of his letter was anything but hopeful. He mentioned that it was the custom of the country to send presents to travellers, and that he therefore sent the chief a present, but that the greatest present he could give us would be his prayers. One thing is certain, if his prayers are not of vastly greater value than his other present, they will not be of any great worth, for the material present was a pot of [pg 325]honey, value one dollar. The chief of course replied civilly, expressed our toleration of all religions and opinions, and that we had many Mussulmans in our ranks, and stated our friendly feelings towards the people of the country. He wound up by giving presents of robes, &c., for the priests. These robes were put upon the ambassador, who is a son of the Ulem, and one of the most inane-looking young men I have seen in Abyssinia. His face, as he was being invested in the robes, was one of the most comic things I ever saw, and the officers present had the greatest difficulty in restraining their gravity. He looked exactly like a baboon affecting humility. Later in the afternoon another chief came in, preceded by tom-tom and flutes, and accompanied by a considerable body of warriors. A remarkable thing which I noticed then, and which I had not before seen, was that they carried headless lances, in token of amity.

We had rather a curious scene this afternoon. A native was detected in the act of thieving, and was sentenced by Colonel Fraser, who acts as provost-marshal, to two dozen lashes. His friends and relatives, however, made so great a howling that the Commander-in-chief came out of his tent to see what was the matter. Finding that the natives took the matter greatly to heart, he gave the man over to be punished by themselves; and after a palaver of an hour, he was sentenced to pay one quarter of the value of the article stolen, or to receive six blows with a stick. Mr. Speedy was about to remonstrate with them upon the insufficiency of the punishment, when the chief who had acted as judge drew him aside, and stated that in the course of the examination they had found that the offender was a Christian, whereas they were themselves Mussulmans; and that if they were to punish [pg 326]him as he deserved, it would cause a war. Throughout Abyssinia,—that is, as far as we have travelled,—even where Christians are in the majority, the Mahommedans look down upon them; and there is no doubt that in a moral point of view the Mahommedans are greatly the superior. Christianity certainly does not work well among natives. Both in India and here a Christian is by no means a man of high standing either in respectability or morality. It is singular that the abodes of the natives here are precisely similar to those at Zulla. There they were built of wattles, with conical thatched roofs. Since that time we have passed mud huts with flat roofs, stone huts with flat roofs, stone huts with thatched roofs, and now we have again come upon the Zulla type of cottages, wattled walls with conical thatched roofs. The villages are always perched upon eminences, and the houses are crowded together and surrounded by a thick fence of boughs, with the ends outwards like a military abattis. The natives are not quite so dark as the people of Tigre, and are not so well armed, for I have not seen any fire-arms among them. Sir Charles Staveley has, I hear, arrived at Mahkan, with the 4th, the 3d Native Cavalry, and Penn’s battery. He, like ourselves, is engaged in road-making. The orders are, that the pioneer force are to make the road practicable for mules, and that General Staveley’s force is to make it practicable for elephants. As elephants can go almost everywhere that mules are able to do, he will not be long delayed, and will probably arrive at LÂt, which is two days’ march forward, within a day or two of ourselves. It is probable that we shall halt two or three days there, to allow the force to concentrate. I hear that Twiss’s Mountain Train and the Naval Rocket Brigade are only a march behind General [pg 327]Staveley, and will arrive with him at LÂt. I have seen to-night that the 45th has also been ordered to come on at once, to form part of the first division. This order will not only give satisfaction to the regiment itself, but also to us all; for the 45th is said to be one of the best and most efficient regiments in India.

We had all looked forward to a halt at this place for at least two or three days. This hope, however, has not been realised; for we arrived this afternoon, and start again to-morrow morning, at which time our real hardships may be said to commence in earnest. But it is better, before I enter upon this, to relate our doings of the last two days.

Leaving our camp near Ashangi, the road ran on level ground parallel to the lake for a mile or so, and then, the mountains approaching to the edge of the water, we had to climb over the spur. The height was not very great, but it was one of the roughest, and certainly the steepest climb we have yet had. Once on the crest, the hill sloped gradually down, and we presently came upon the water again near the head of the lake. This spot was the next day the scene of a fatal accident. Two or three officers came down to shoot, and one of the birds fell into the water. One of their servants, who was a good swimmer, at once went in to fetch it out. It is probable that he was seized with cramp, for he sank suddenly. Captain Pottinger at once jumped in, and swam out to the spot, but was unable to see anything of him. Our camping-ground was about two miles distant from [pg 328]the head of the lake, upon flat ground. The distance from Ashangi was little over six miles.

We halted here the next day in order to let General Staveley’s Brigade reach Ashangi. This they did upon the day after we had left it. There was considerable regret in camp to hear that General Staveley himself, who had been attacked at Atzala with acute rheumatism, was very much worse, and had been carried in a palkee. He had entirely lost the use of his limbs, and it was considered improbable that he would be able to come on farther with the army. This would be a very great loss for the expedition, and I sincerely hope that their apprehensions will not be verified.

The morning of our halt, a general order was promulgated which filled us with consternation. No baggage whatever is to be henceforward allowed either for men or officers. Soldiers are to carry their greatcoat, a blanket, and waterproof sheet, in addition to their rifle, ammunition, havresack, &c. This will bring the weight to be carried by each man up to fifty-five pounds; an overwhelming weight over such a tremendous country as that which we have to traverse, and beneath a tropical sun. I question very much whether the men will be able to stand it, and several of the medical staff to whom I have spoken are quite of that opinion. What the roads are likely to be, is manifest enough by a portion of the general order, which says that in future no mule is to carry over 100 pounds; and yet the authorities put more than half that weight upon a man’s shoulders. It is not even as if the men had their knapsacks, in which the greatcoat, &c. could be packed, and carried with comparative ease; they will have to be slung over the shoulders by the coat-arms, and will distress the soldier far more than they would have done if [pg 329]carried in knapsacks. It was an extraordinary oversight leaving the knapsacks behind at Antalo; for it was evident even then that they would be required. Unmounted officers are to have a greatcoat, blanket, and waterproof-sheet carried for them, and mounted officers may carry what they can put upon their horses. No baggage-animals whatever are to go forward with luggage. The men are to be packed twenty in a bell tent, and twelve officers are to have the same accommodation. More than a fourth part of the soldiers are out on picket and guard every night; therefore the number of men in each tent will be practically about the same as the officers. Fancy twelve officers in a tent! They will be packed like herrings in a tub; and men are calculating to-day how many square inches of ground each will possess. Everyone takes it good-humouredly, and there is no grumbling whatever; but for all that, it is rather a serious business. If it were for two or three days, it would be all well enough; but Magdala is a considerable distance from here. The Quartermaster-general’s department talk about a six days’ march. Captain Speedy says that sixteen is very much nearer the mark; and as he has a knowledge of the country, while the Quartermaster’s department have uniformly been wrong in their distances, it is safe to assume that it is a fifteen days’ march; that is to say, even without allowing a day for the capture of Magdala, or for arranging matters there, we cannot be back to LÂt under a month. There is some talk of the baggage coming up after us; but this will certainly not come to anything. I know that we have barely animals enough with us to carry our food, and every available mule in the rear is coming on with Staveley’s Brigade. We may, then, calculate with tolerable certainty that we shall not get any of our bag[pg 330]gage until we return to LÂt, which, at the very earliest, will be a month hence, and not improbably twice that time. We are told that the cold at night is very great on ahead, and that the rains are heavy and frequent. It is therefore a very serious matter for men to start without a single change of clothes of any kind. Putting aside the rain, the men will suffer so greatly from the heat, and from the labour of climbing mountains with so heavy a load upon their backs, that it would be a most material matter for them to have at any rate a dry flannel-shirt to put on when the cold evening wind begins to blow. Time will show how the men stand it; but it is certainly a hazardous experiment.

This morning we started for this place. LÂt has always been spoken of as a place where we should halt and form a dÉpÔt, and we had therefore expected to have found a large village; but as far as I have seen, there is not a native hut in the neighbourhood. Upon leaving our last camping-ground, we ascended a lofty and steep hill, and then had to wind for a long distance upon a rocky ledge, where a false step would have been certain death. After several minor rises and descents, we came down to the valley in which the stream, near which we are encamped, runs. Although there are no villages in sight, there must be a considerable native population in the neighbourhood, for a large number of natives have come in with supplies. The officers of the transport-train are buying every sword and spear brought in, for the use of the muleteers; as, although Theodore is reported at Magdala, he might at any moment make a sudden march down with a few thousand men, and might be upon us before we knew that he was within fifty miles’ distance. Should we be attacked in one of these gorges, or on a narrow ledge with a precipice [pg 331]below, scattered as we should necessarily be over an immense length of road, Theodore might, by a sudden attack upon our baggage, do such damage in a few minutes, that we might be obliged to retire to Antalo, to fetch up fresh supplies. There is no disguising the fact, that in making our rush from such a long distance we are running no inconsiderable risk.

Sir Robert Napier’s original plan was to have formed a dÉpÔt with five months’ provisions at some place about half-way between Antalo and Magdala, and to have marched forward from that place with two months’ provisions. Instead of this we are starting from LÂt with only fifteen days’ provisions, and there is no dÉpÔt of any importance, nor will there be, nearer than Antalo itself. The whole of the available mules will accompany the advancing division, and we shall have to depend entirely for future supplies upon the native carriage. The stock of food we have with us will barely last us to Magdala; we know not whether we shall be able to purchase any flour on the way, or how we may fare for forage for our animals. Between Antalo and Magdala are many tribes and chiefs,—we have already passed Waldo Yasus and the Gallas,—and some of these, after we have passed, may take it into their heads to stop the native animals going up with stores; and the whole of the system upon which we have solely to depend would then break down, and our position would be as precarious a one as it is possible to imagine. It is indeed a tremendous risk to run; but then we are playing for a very high stake. We are running a race with the rains. If we were to stop here for a fortnight or three weeks, and to send the whole of the transport animals down to Antalo to fetch up more provisions, we should infallibly have to wait [pg 332]out here over the rainy season; and the difficulties of provisioning the force during that period, and the probable mortality which might ensue, would be so great that Sir Robert Napier no doubt considers himself justified in running a very considerable risk in order to reach the sea-coast before the rains. Of course the matter has been discussed and talked over in every light among the officers; and the general opinion is, that unless we obtain an unlooked-for supply, as we did at Antalo, somewhere between this and Magdala, our position will be a very critical one. With most other generals, men would, I think, be inclined to take rather a gloomy view of it; but everyone has such confidence in Sir Robert Napier that they are quite content to leave matters in his hands.

We are beginning to believe Magdala to be a fata morgana, an ignis fatuus, which gets more and more distant the nearer we approach it. At Dildee we were told that it was only four marches distant. We have made three marches, and have sixty more miles to go; and yet Magdala is not more than twenty-five miles in a straight line, and is visible from a point four miles distant from this camp. It is found, however, that the country is perfectly impracticable, and that we must take a detour of sixty miles to get there. I can hardly imagine what this country in a direct line to Magdala can be like, for we have passed over hundreds of miles which no one would have imagined it possible for an army with its baggage-animals to surmount. We have scaled mountains and descended precipices; we have wound along the face of deep ravines, where a false step was death; we are familiar with smooth slippery rock and with loose boulders; and after this expedition it can hardly be said that any country is impracticable for an army determined to advance. I hear, however, that between this and Magdala there are perpendicular [pg 339]precipices running like walls for miles, places which could scarcely be scaled by experienced cragsmen, much less by loaded mules. We must therefore make a detour. It is tiresome, for everyone is burning with impatience to be at Magdala, and to solve the long-debated problems—will Theodore fight? will he fight in the open, or defend Magdala? or will he hand over the captives with an apology? and shall we be content to receive one? I believe that I can answer the last question with certainty. We shall not. If Theodore sends in the captives we shall receive them, but shall certainly exact retribution from him. We shall either take him prisoner or compel him to fly. If we obtain the prisoners unhurt, we shall still take Magdala. If he escape to the mountains with a few adherents, we shall, in that case, be content to retire, and to leave the task of hunting him down to his numerous enemies; but if he murder the prisoners we shall ourselves remain here until he is captured. I think I may positively state that this, or something very like it, is the tenor of the instructions given to Sir Robert Napier by the Government; and I think that they will be heartily approved by all, except by those negrophilists who deny that a black man can do wrong. It would be impossible to allow Theodore to go unpunished; indeed, it would be offering a premium to all savage potentates in future time to make prisoners of any English travellers who may fall into their hands.

I now return to Dildee, from which place I last wrote, while we were halting in consequence of the tremendous march of the preceding day. Upon the evening of the day upon which we halted we heard that General Staveley had arrived with the force under his command at a stream five [pg 340]miles in our rear, and had there halted. He had with him the 4th, a wing of the 33d, six companies of the Punjaub Pioneers, Twiss’s Battery, and the Naval Rocket Train. It was decided that the wing of the 33d, who were with us, should halt for a day, and should come on as a complete regiment, and that the 4th, which is numerically much weaker than the 33d, should push on with the advance. The next day’s march was short, but severe, as we had to climb a mountain 3000 feet above our camping-ground. It was hard work, but was got over much more speedily than usual, as the train was much smaller, owing to our diminished numbers; and we had consequently fewer of the tedious blocks so trying to both man and beast. The road was in most places pretty good; but was dangerous for a long distance where it wound along the face of a deep ravine. The country here must be either much more densely populated, or the people much more industrious than in most of the districts over which we have passed; for there were patches of cultivation to the very top of the mountain, which, where we crossed it, was about 11,000 feet above the sea. The mountain side was bare of trees, or even bushes; but, curiously enough, very near the summit were large quantities of small palm-trees, with thick straight stems, three or four feet high, and clustered heads of spreading leaves. Several Indian officers agreed with me in considering them to be a species of palm, but we had no botanist amongst us, and it seemed most unlikely that even dwarf palm-trees should be growing in such a lofty and exposed position. I have only before seen palm-trees twice in Abyssinia, once at Goun Gonna, where two or three grew near the church, and in a valley between Attegrat and Antalo.

When I wrote from Santarai we were twenty-five miles in a direct line from Magdala. After marching thirty-five miles we are at exactly the same distance. In fact, we have marched along the base of a triangle, of which Magdala forms the apex. We have been obliged to do this to arrive [pg 352]at the one practicable point for crossing the tremendous ravine of the Djedda. For the whole of this distance we have marched along a nearly level plateau ten thousand feet above the sea. The sun by day has been exceedingly hot, the wind at night piercingly cold, and we have had heavy thunderstorms of an afternoon. The extremes of temperature are very great, and it is indeed surprising that the troops preserve their health as they do. I have seen the thermometer register 145° at eleven o’clock, and go down to 19° at night. The plateau land has been bare and monotonous in the extreme, not a single shrub, however small, breaks the view, and the only variety whatever has been, that whereas in most places the soil is a black friable loam, at others it is so covered with stones of all sizes that the soil itself is scarcely visible, and travelling is difficult and painful in the extreme. Our first march was twelve miles in length to Gazoo, which is the name of a stream running for nearly the whole distance parallel to our line of march. At Gazoo, the very serious news reached us that the arrangements for the native transport had broken down, and that no supplies were on their way up. This was what I had, when we started from LÂt for our rush forward, foreseen was exceedingly likely to happen, and our position at once became a very precarious one. We had only six days’ provision remaining. Magdala was five days’ march distant. It was now certain that no fresh supplies could possibly arrive until long after those we have with us are exhausted. It is hardly probable that we shall find any provisions upon our way, for to-morrow we shall come upon Theodore’s track, and it is said that he has burnt and plundered the whole country in the neighbourhood of his line of route. It is very doubtful whether we shall [pg 353]obtain enough food for our animals; even now, when in a cultivated country which has not been ravaged, forage is very scarce, and the animals are upon the very shortest allowance which will keep life together. The prospect, therefore, was gloomy indeed, and there was a rumour that the Chief had made up his mind to halt, and to send the whole of the animals back to bring up provisions. This idea, however, if it was ever entertained, was abandoned; those energetic officers, Major Grant and Captain Moore, were sent back to endeavour to arrange the hitch in the native carriage; the ration of biscuit was reduced from a pound to half-a-pound per diem, and the army moved on. Fortunately news came up that the natives were bringing in a thousand pounds of flour a-day to the commissariat station which had been established at the Tacazze, and with these and our half-rations we might hold on for some time.

The next day’s march was sixteen miles, to Ad Gazoo, through a country precisely similar in character to that passed on the preceding day, except that it was more cultivated. The villages, indeed, were everywhere scattered, and although small were snug and comfortable-looking, the little clusters of eight or ten huts, with their high conical thatched roofs, looking very like snug English homesteads with their rickyards. Here, as indeed through the whole of the latter part of our journey, the people came out to gaze on the passing army of white strangers. Picturesque groups they formed as they squatted by the wayside. In the centre would probably be the priest, and next to him the patriarch and the chief of the village. Round them would sit the other men, and behind these the women and girls would stand, the latter chattering and laughing among themselves, or to the [pg 354]younger men, who stood beside them. Here, too, would be the mothers, some with their little fat babies in their arms, some with two or three children hanging round them, and peeping bashfully out at the strange white men. Some of the women would generally have brought goats, or a pot of honey, or a jar of milk or ghee, or a bag of grain to sell, but they soon forgot to offer them in their surprise at the strange attires and beautiful horses of the strangers.

From Ad Gazoo we yesterday moved our camp to this place, a distance of only two miles, Sir Charles Staveley bringing up his division to the camp we had left, so that the whole force is now well together in case of an attack. An affair took place yesterday evening, the consequences of which might have been very serious. Ashasta, Gobayze’s uncle, who visited us at Santarai, again came into camp with a couple of hundred followers. Care had been taken this time to prevent the possibility of his being fired into by the pickets, and when his visit was over he was escorted by an officer beyond the lines. After he had left us, he went to a village not far distant, where he billeted half of his men. With the remainder he started for another village; but upon his way he passed close to an outlying picket of General Staveley’s brigade, consisting of a corporal and four men of the 3d Native Infantry. These men of course knew nothing of his having come from our camp, and shouted to the party to keep their distance. The natives, who, as I have before said, have a strong impression that we cannot fight, replied by derisive cries and by brandishing their lances. The corporal, naturally supposing that it was a party of Theodore’s cavalry, ordered one of his men to fire, which was answered by a couple of shots on the part of the natives. The corporal then [pg 355]gave the word to the others to fire, and then to charge, and the little party, sword in hand, went gallantly at the numerous party of their supposed enemy. Ashasta, seeing that it was a mistake, ordered his men to retreat, which they did, pursued by the picket, who came up with some of the hindmost of the party. They pursued for some distance, and then halted. Two of the natives were killed in the affair, one with a bullet, one by a sword-thrust, and two others were wounded. At the sound of the firing Staveley’s brigade was called out under arms, and considerable excitement prevailed for some time. Late in the evening, when the matter was understood, M. Munzinger went out to explain to Ashasta how it had happened; and as the men killed were not chiefs, and human life does not go for much in Abyssinia, our apologies were accepted, and Ashasta came into camp again to-day. Thus what might have been a very serious business is happily arranged. The men upon picket are in no way to blame; in fact, they behaved with great gallantry, and must have opened the eyes of the natives to the fact that we can fight when we like. Technically, they were somewhat to blame in charging, as the rule is that a picket should never advance, but should fire and hold its ground when possible, or retire upon its supports if threatened by an overwhelming force.

The Naval Rocket Brigade now form a portion of this camp. They are an admirable body of men, and do great credit to Captain Fellowes, their commanding officer. They support the fatigues and hardships with the good-temper peculiar to naval men. They march, contrary to what might have been expected, even better than the soldiers, and never fall out, even on the most fatiguing journeys. They are a great amusement to the troops, and their admonitions to [pg 356]their mules, which they persist in treating as ships, are irresistibly comic. I saw a sailor the other day who was leading a mule, while a comrade walked behind it. A stoppage occurred, but he went right on into the midst of a number of soldiers.

“Hallo, Jack!” they said good-humouredly, “where are you coming?”

“Coming?” Jack said, “I ain’t coming anywhere. I am only towing the craft; it’s the chap behind does the steering.”

It is always so with them. The head-rope is always either the “tow-rope” or “the painter.” They starboard or port their helm, “tack through a crowd,” or “wear the ship round” in a most amusing way. They have of course shore-titles for the occasion, but do not always answer to them.

The other day I heard an officer call out, “Sergeant-major!”

No answer.

“Sergeant-major!” This time louder.

Still no reply.

A third and still louder hail produced no response.

“Boatswain, where the devil are you?”

“Ay, ay, sir!” was the instant answer from the man, who was standing close by, but who had quite forgotten his new rank of sergeant-major.

Of an evening, if we have a halt, Jack sometimes dances. The band of the Punjaubees—between whom and the sailors there is a great friendship, although of course they do not understand a word of each other’s language—comes over to the sailors’ camp, and plays dance-music; and half-a-dozen couples of sailors stand up and execute quadrilles, waltzes, and polkas.

We have had many surprises since we arrived in the country, but none greater, and certainly none more satisfactory, than that which we have here experienced. The letters from the captives had informed us that Theodore had burnt everything upon the plain of Dalanta; and we had in consequence imagined that we should be able to obtain nothing whatever either for ourselves or animals, and that the prospect of the latter especially was gloomy in the extreme, for we had not any corn whatever remaining for them. Captain Speedy, however, rode out to see the chief of Dalanta, with whom he had an acquaintance when residing in the country. He returned in the afternoon with the tidings that the chief had promised at least 100,000 lbs. of grain in two [pg 367]days. It is evident that he is a man of his word, for we have had a market to-day which has surpassed anything we have seen in the country except at Antalo. There is a crowd of people with grain, bread, fowls, &c. &c., and the four or five commissariat Parsees cannot pay out the dollars for the bucket-loads of grain half as fast as the natives bring them in. It is indeed quite a scramble among these latter.

This unexpected influx of grain, &c., may be said to be the turning-point which secures the success of our expedition. Had we found no grain here we must have lost all the transport-animals, as these have already been on very short commons for some days. The supplies for the men too were running extremely short, and if Magdala holds out for a week our position would have been most unpleasant; now we are safe. We have abundant grain for the animals for another week, and we are told that supplies will continue to come in in any quantities. Very large quantities of bread too have been purchased, and both officers and men have laid in a stock of fowls, eggs, &c. All anxiety is at an end. We have fairly overcome now all the difficulties of the country, and of supplies. Theodore and his men are, in comparison, contemptible foes.

Staveley’s brigade came up yesterday, and are encamped at a spot about two miles beyond us. Now that supplies are coming in in abundance, and a day is no longer of vital consequence, we shall, I believe, wait for another day or two to allow the wing of the 45th, the second wing of the Beloochees, and the 3d Dragoon Guards, to come up.

Yesterday almost every officer in camp went to the edge of the ravine to have a look at Magdala. It is a ride of a little over two miles, and the ravine goes down in an almost [pg 368]unbroken precipice of 500 or 600 feet from the upper edge. The view is one of the finest, if not the very finest, we have had in Abyssinia. It is grand in the extreme. At our feet was the perpendicular precipice, then a short shoulder, and then another sharp fall down to the Bachelo, which is 3900 feet below us. This side of the ravine is very similar, but steeper, to that of the Djedda. Upon the other side, however, the character is altogether different. In place of a corresponding ascent, as at the Djedda, the ground rises in a succession of billows one behind another, higher and higher, to the foot of some very lofty mountains, which form the background forty miles away. Such an extraordinary sea of hills I never saw. It was most magnificent, and stretched away east and west as far as the eye could reach. Above all this Magdala rose like a great ship out of the surrounding billows. There was no mistaking it, with its precipitous sides, its frowning aspect, and the cluster of tents clearly discernible upon its summit. As the crow flies it was about eight miles distant.

I will endeavour to give as clear a description of it as possible, in order that our future operations may be readily understood. From the bed of the Bachelo the ground rises in a mass of rounded hills, with somewhat flat tops; down through these, deep ravines convey the streams from the distant hills into the Bachelo. One of these ravines comes down nearly direct from Magdala, and it is up this that the road goes, until it gets within about two miles of Magdala, when it leaves the ravine and goes up on to the flat hill-tops from the midst of which Magdala rises. Magdala, from here, appears like a three-topped mountain with almost perpendicular sides. Two of the summits, which together resemble [pg 369]a saddle with high flat peaks, face this way. The hill to the right is Fahla; that on the left, which is some hundred feet higher, is Salamgi. The road winds up the face of Fahla to the saddle between the two, and it is evident that Fahla will be the first position to be attacked. There are apparently very few huts upon Fahla. The road, we hear, after reaching the top of the saddle, turns to the left, and crosses over Salamgi. Salamgi is tremendously strong; it is a series of natural scarps, of great height; and upon the terrace formed by these scarps a great portion of Theodore’s force is encamped. Salamgi, if well defended, even by savages, will be a most formidable position to assault. The third top of this singular fortress is Magdala itself. This, like Fahla, has a flat top, which is completely covered with large huts. We see only the top of Magdala, over the saddle between Salamgi and Fahla. It is apparently lower than Salamgi, but higher than Fahla. It is, we hear, connected with Salamgi by a flat shoulder. It appears to be about a mile distant from the summit of this mountain, and when, therefore, we have taken Salamgi, our light guns will not be of much utility in bombarding Magdala at so great a distance.

I have now given an idea of the scene in which the great drama, which will commence to-morrow or next day, will be played. My next letter will, at any rate, give you the opening scene, and possibly even the entire drama.

Although it was evident when I last wrote to you that the last act of our long drama was approaching, I certainly did not imagine that my next letter would convey the tidings [pg 370]that all was over—that the captives were free, their prison captured, their oppressor punished, and general triumph amidst a blaze of blue fire. But so it is; for although Magdala has not yet fallen, it will undoubtedly do so before the post closes, and a more gratifying termination to our expedition than has eventuated could not have been desired by the most sanguine. I had better continue my letter in a narrative form from the date when I last wrote—for if I describe the final events first it would deprive the rest of the matter of all interest.

I wrote last on the evening of the 7th from Dalanta. The following day brought in largely-increased supplies, and the market was completely thronged with the country people. In the three days we were there we purchased over 100,000 lbs. of grain, besides quantities of bread, &c. &c., and nowhere, even at Antalo, did supplies flow in with such rapidity as at this place, where we expected to find a desert.

On the afternoon of the 8th the wing of the 45th marched into camp, having done the distance from Scindee. The authorities had thoughtfully sent down mules to the Djedda river to carry up their coats and blankets, and the men consequently arrived comparatively fresh. The sailors of the Naval Brigade turned out as they came into camp, and saluted them with three hearty cheers. The 45th are a remarkably fine body of men.

Thus reinforced Sir Robert Napier determined to move forward and to encamp before Magdala, even if he decided upon delaying the assault until the other wing of the Beloochees and the 3d Dragoon Guards joined us. The order was accordingly issued for a march the next day to the edge [pg 371]of the Bachelo ravine, to which the second brigade, which were now two miles ahead of us, were also to proceed. We started at ten o’clock, and were soon upon our camping-ground, which was only five miles distant. Here the second brigade joined us, and together we formed a larger camp than any we have had since our landing at Zulla. From the front of the camp we had an excellent view of Magdala, which stood up, with Salamgi and Fahla, a thousand feet above the surrounding hills. We could now see that the ridge connecting Salamgi with Fahla was longer than it had appeared from our previous point of view, the distance from one end to the other of the saddle being apparently over half a mile.

The first brigade was ordered to advance at daybreak. The Commander-in-chief and his head-quarters were to move with the second brigade at ten o’clock, so as to allow the baggage of the first brigade to get first to the bottom of the ravine. The first brigade were to march to within two or three miles of Magdala. The second were to encamp upon the river, and to march on early the next morning. There was then not the slightest intention on the part of Sir Robert Napier that any attack should take place, and indeed, as I have before said, it was considered very probable that we should await the arrival of the troops hurrying up from behind before any assault was made upon Magdala. However, I determined to go on early, as it was quite possible that something would take place, and I had afterwards good reason to congratulate myself upon having so done, as several others who had not started until ten o’clock lost the exciting scene at the end of the day.

Sir Charles Staveley was in command of the advance, [pg 372]and Colonel Phayre, as quartermaster-general of the army, went on in front with six companies of the Bombay and Madras Sappers to prepare the road, should it be necessary.

At half-past five the next morning (Good Friday) we were in motion, and at once entered upon the steep descent to the Bachelo. It is a ravine of about the same depth as the Djedda, namely, 3800 feet, and the road, as made by Theodore, is a wonderfully good one. It is shorter, but at the same time scarcely so precipitous as parts of that down to the Djedda, and can hardly have presented quite so many difficulties, that is, there were fewer places where the basalt had to be cut through with blasting-tools. Still, it was a fatiguing descent to the Bachelo, and the sun, when it rose, came down with tremendous power. The men had had but a scanty supply of water the night before, and hardly any before starting; they therefore looked forward eagerly for the welcome stream at the bottom. It turned out, however, a disappointment, for although there was an abundance of water, the river being eighty yards wide, and nearly waist-deep, the water was of a consistency and colour which would have rendered it perfectly undrinkable except to men suffering from great thirst. I do not think I ever saw such muddy water in a stream. It was the colour of coffee with milk in it, and perfectly opaque with mud. It looked like nothing so much as the water in a dirty puddle in a London street, just as it has been churned up by the wheels of a passing omnibus. However, there was no help for it, and, dirty as it was, everyone had a drink, and the soldiers filled their canteens, for it was probable that no more water would be obtainable during the day.

From the Bachelo a broad ravine with a flat bottom ran [pg 373]nearly straight to Salamgi, and along this Theodore’s road was made. It was believed, however, that guns had been laid to command this road, and it was not improbable that Theodore might make a sudden attack. It was therefore determined that the mountain guns, rocket trains, and baggage should proceed by this road, preceded by the six hundred Sappers and Miners; and that the infantry should at once climb the hills to its right, and should march along them, so as to clear them of any possible enemy. To cross the river the men had to wade, the first time that they have had to do so since they landed. Some wisely took off their trousers, others thinking vainly that the water would not reach above their knees, merely rolled their trousers up, and, of course, got thoroughly wet. Most of them took off shoes and stockings, but many stopped in the middle and put their boots on again, for the stones were so extremely sharp that wet shoes were preferable to cut feet. At last the troops were across, and after a short halt moved forward, the Sappers having gone on an hour previously with Colonel Phayre. After proceeding up the valley we prepared to climb the hill. On crossing it the 4th formed the advance, the men loading before they started, as it was impossible that we could tell when we might be attacked. Sir Charles Staveley, with General Schneider, the able and popular officer commanding the first brigade, with their staffs followed; and after them came the 4th—the little party of Engineers under Major Pritchard, the Beloochees, the Punjaubees, and two companies of the 10th Native Infantry; also a squadron of the 3d Native Cavalry, the only cavalry we had with us. We have had some stiff climbing since we entered Abyssinia, but this altogether surpassed any of our previous experience. In fact, when we got [pg 374]near the summit of the first range, we came to a spot which was almost impassable even for infantry, and quite so for the horses of the staff. Two or three officers endeavoured to drag their horses up, but the animals, although pretty well accustomed by this time to stiff places, were quite unable to get up, and one or two tumbled backwards and were nearly killed. The infantry therefore clambered up to the top; but we had to wait where we were for half-an-hour, until the Punjaub Pioneers cleared a sort of track up which we were able to scramble. When on the first level we had a halt for half-an-hour, for the troops were all very much exhausted by their climb, under one of the hottest suns I ever felt. They were now, too, beginning to suffer much from thirst, and the muddy water in the skins was drunk most eagerly. It tasted muddy, but was not otherwise bad; but we had to shut our eyes to drink it. While we were waiting here a messenger arrived from Colonel Phayre, saying that he held the head of the valley with the Sappers and Miners, and that the road was quite practicable. Sir Charles Staveley at once sent off an aide-de-camp to Sir Robert Napier, saying that the baggage and guns, which were waiting at the river for the receipt of this intelligence, might move forward in safety. We then marched four miles farther up a succession of rises to the place where it was hoped from the native accounts that we should find water; but there was only one small pool of very dirty water, with which, however, three or four skins were filled. The disappointment of the men, who were now suffering severely, was very great, but there was no help for it. Here, however, we met with a surprise, which to the commanding-officers quite dispelled any thought of thirst or discomfort; for here, to the astonishment and dismay of Sir [pg 375]Charles Staveley, he found Colonel Phayre and the 800 Sappers and Miners, who were supposed to be holding the head of the valley below us. This was now, we knew, crowded with our artillery, ammunition-baggage and supplies. This valley, as I before stated, ran straight to Magdala, and of course was visible for its whole length to the garrison of that fortress.

The whole of the baggage was therefore open to an attack from Magdala, and we upon the hill-top were powerless to give them the slightest assistance. Had Theodore made an attack at this period, it is not too much to say that the whole of our guns, ammunition, and stores must have fallen into his hands, for their whole guard was only eighty or a hundred men of the 4th scattered over a long line. What Colonel Phayre meant, or how he accounted for this extraordinary conduct, I know not; but a more stupendous blunder never was made, and had we had the most contemptible European force to deal with instead of savages, we must have sustained a crushing disaster.

General Staveley at once sent off an officer to acquaint Sir Robert Napier with the state of affairs, and then ordered the troops to advance at once.

Another couple of miles brought us to our camping-ground, which lay a little behind the crest of a hill, and was not visible from Magdala. Here the tired troops threw themselves down, while the General advanced with his staff to the edge of the rising ground. As the scene before it was destined, although we were at the time ignorant of it, to become our battle-field, I will endeavour to give as accurate a description of it as possible, in order that the fight may be better understood.

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 [pg 393]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.

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 [pg 394]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 [pg 395]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. [pg 396]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.

There was a universal feeling of thankfulness that we had not been obliged to bombard the place, as the slaughter among this defenceless crowd of people would have been terrible. Wherever was a level piece of ground, there their habitations were clustered. They were mere temporary abodes—a framework of sticks, covered with coarse grass, placed regularly and thickly, so as to turn the rain. They were about the size and shape of ordinary haycocks, and show that the people must sleep, as they sit, curled almost into a ball.

From the shoulder we climbed up the very winding road [pg 397]on the face of the natural scarps to Salamgi. The natural strength of these positions is astounding. Fahla is tremendously strong; but yet it is as nothing to Salamgi, which commands it. Colonel Milward, who commands the artillery, remarked to me that in the hands of European troops it would be not only impregnable, but perfectly unattackable. Gibraltar from the land side is considered impregnable; but Gibraltar is absolutely nothing to this group of fortresses. After capturing Fahla and Salamgi—if such a thing were possible—an attacking force would still have Magdala to deal with; and Magdala rises from the end of the flat shoulder which connects it with Salamgi in an unbroken wall, except at the one point where a precipitous road leads up to the gate. It is 2500 yards from the top of Salamgi to Magdala, and even the heaviest artillery could do nothing against the wall of rock. We may well congratulate ourselves that Theodore sent his army to attack our baggage; for had they remained and defended the place, provided as they were with forty cannon, our loss would have been very heavy; and even with our superior weapons it is a question whether we could have succeeded, the road in many cases winding along the face of a precipice, which a few men from above merely rolling down stones could have cleared. When we had reached the brow of Salamgi—a still higher scarp of which rose two hundred feet above us—Major Baigrie halted for orders, and I rode on with two or three others to the little body of the 3d Native Cavalry, who were half a mile further on, at the edge of the flat between Salamgi and Magdala.

I should say that early in the morning we had received news that Theodore had left in the night with a small body of his adherents, and intended to gain the camp of the Queen [pg 398]of the Gallas, and to throw himself upon her hospitality, the Gallas being wandering tribes, who, like the Arabs, would protect their bitterest enemy if he reached their tents and claimed hospitality. When we were nearly at the top of the hill, we had received a message from the cavalry, saying that there was a rumour that Theodore had returned, and had committed suicide.

When we reached the cavalry, however, we found a state of some excitement prevailing: some eight or ten horsemen, among whom Captain Speedy had recognised Theodore himself, having just galloped up brandishing spears and discharging their muskets in defiance. Colonel Locke could not, of course, charge without orders; and, indeed, it would have been most imprudent to do so, as the whole of the shoulder, a quarter of a mile wide, and six or seven hundred yards to the fort of Magdala, were covered with the little huts, behind and in which any number of men might be concealed. Colonel Locke then threw-out a few of his men as skirmishers. The horsemen continued to gallop about, sometimes approaching to within three hundred yards, sometimes dashing across the plateau as if they meditated a descent into the valley far below by one of the winding paths which led down. To prevent this, Colonel Locke called to five or six soldiers of the 33d, and two or three artillerymen, who had somehow got separated from their corps and had come down towards us, to take up a position to command the path, and to open fire if the horsemen attempted to go down it.

At the same time we saw upon the top of Salamgi, behind us, a company of the 33d, who had gone up there to plant the colours. Colonel Locke had the advance blown, and [pg 399]signalled to them to come down to command the opposite side of the shoulder, in case the horsemen might attempt to descend into the valley by any path which might exist upon that side. The horsemen again moved in and discharged their rifles at us; and the cavalry keeping their places, our little party of 33d answered with their Sniders. As they did so, they moved forward, and in another hundred yards we came upon no less than twenty cannon, which Theodore had, no doubt, intended to have moved across into Magdala, but had had no time to accomplish. These were, of course, taken possession of; and, as an officer remarked with a laugh to me, it is probably the first time that twenty guns were ever captured in the face of an enemy by six men of the line, two artillerymen, three or four officers, and the press. In the tumbrils of the guns were their ammunition; and Lieutenant Nolan, of the Artillery, assisted by two artillerymen, Captain Speedy, and the civilians, at once proceeded to load them, and opened fire with ball upon the foot-men, a hundred or so of whom we could now see clustered at the foot of the road up to Magdala; the 33d men keeping up a fire upon the horsemen and a few foot-men running over the plains, and who occasionally answered; and the company of the 33d, who had now come down nearly to the foot of the slope behind us, also opening fire. It was one of the funniest scenes I ever saw. There was Magdala at 500 yards’ distance, with its garrison keeping up a scattered fire at us, none of the bullets, however, reaching so far; there were a few shots from behind the little haycock huts; there was Theodore himself galloping about with half a dozen of his chiefs—picturesque figures in their bright-coloured robes; and there was our little party waging a war upon them, with not another soldier in sight, [pg 400]or, indeed, within half a mile of us. This lasted for ten minutes or so; and then an officer rode up to order the infantry to retire into the slope, but to keep the guns under their fire. The cavalry had previously been ordered to retire. In another quarter of an hour Penn’s battery came down to us and opened fire, and the steel shells soon drove the enemy up the road into the fortress. For a quarter of an hour they continued their fire; and, when they had once got the range, every shell burst close to the gateway, through which the road passed. Then there came an order to cease firing; and Murray’s guns, which had taken up their position upon the top of Salamgi, Twiss’s battery more to the right, and the Naval Rocket Brigade, took up the fire. For nearly two hours, with occasional intervals, these guns and Twiss’s battery kept up their fire. While this was going on, we discovered in a small tent, a hundred yards or so in our front, the Frenchman Bardel, who is sick with a fever, and was at once carried to the rear. We had, too, plenty of time to examine the guns. Some were of English, some of Indian manufacture: all were of brass, and varied in size from a fourteen-pounder downwards. There were two or three small mortars among them. This was evidently the arsenal, for here were tools and instruments of all descriptions—files, hammers, anvils, &c. There were bags of charcoal and a forge; and here were many hundreds of balls, varying in size from grape-shot to immense stone balls for the giant mortar, which shattered to pieces the other day at the first attempt to fire it.

At this time we made a discovery which quite destroyed the feeling of pity which the gallantry of Theodore in exposing himself to our fire had excited. The Beloochees had [pg 401]joined us, and were posted near the edge of a precipice to our right. Their attention being attracted by an overpowering stench, they looked over the edge of the rock; and there, fifty feet below, was one of the most horrifying sights which was ever beheld: there, in a great pile, lay the bodies of the three hundred and fifty prisoners whom Theodore had murdered last Thursday, and whom he had then thrown over the edge of the precipice. There they lay—men, women, and little children—in a putrefying mass. It was a most ghastly sight, and recalled to our minds the horrible cruelty of the tyrant, and quite destroyed the effect which his bravery had produced.

At last, at half-past three, the troops came down and took their places; and at a quarter to four the whole of the guns and rockets opened a tremendous fire to cover the advance; and the 33d, preceded by a small band of Engineers and Sappers under Major Pritchard, and followed by the 45th, advanced to the assault, the 4th and the rest of the first brigade retaining their places as a reserve. When within three hundred yards of the rock, the 33d formed line and opened fire at the gateway and high hedge which bordered the summit of the precipice—the most tremendous fire I ever heard. Even the thunder—which was, as during the fight of Good Friday, roaring overhead—was lost in the roar of the seven hundred Snider rifles, and which was re-echoed by the rocks in their front. Under cover of this tremendous fire the Engineers and the leading company advanced up the path. When they were half-way up, the troops ceased firing, and the storming-party scrambled up at a run. All this time answering flashes had come back from a high wall which extended for some feet at the side [pg 402]of the gateway, and from behind the houses and rocks near it. When the Engineers, headed by Major Pritchard, reached the gateway, several shots were fired through loopholes in the wall, and two or three men staggered back wounded, Major Pritchard himself receiving two very slight flesh-wounds in the arm. The men immediately put their rifles through the holes, and kept up a constant fire, so as to clear-away their enemies from behind it.

Then there was a pause, which for a time no one understood; but at last a soldier forced his way down the crowded path with the astounding intelligence that the Engineers, who had headed the storming-party for the purpose of blowing the gate in, had actually forgotten to take any powder with them! Neither had they crowbars, axes, or scaling-ladders. General Staveley at once despatched an officer to bring up powder from the artillery-wagons.

The 45th opened fire to prevent the enemy’s skirmishers doing damage; and a few pioneers of the 45th were sent up with axes to force open the gate. In the mean time, however, the men of the 33d, upon the road leading up to the gate, discovered a spot half-way up, by which they were able to scramble up to the left, and, getting through the hedge, they quickly cleared away the defenders of the gate. A large portion of the regiment entered at this spot, the gate not being fairly opened for a quarter of an hour after the storming-party arrived at it; for when it was broken down, it was found that the gate-house was filled with very large stones; and therefore, had powder been at hand, and the gate been blown in, a considerable time must have elapsed before the party could have entered. Behind the gateway were a cluster of huts, many of whose inhabitants still remained in them in [pg 403]spite of the heavy fire which had for two hours been kept up. Behind them was a natural scarp of twenty-five or thirty feet high, with a flight of steps wide enough only for a single man to ascend at a time. At the top of this was another gate, which had been blown open by the rifles of the 33d. I entered with the rear of the regiment; but all was by that time over. By the first gateway were six or seven bodies, and two or three men by the second. Beyond this was the level plateau, thickly scattered with the native huts of their ordinary construction—not the haycock-fabrics which had covered the other hills and plateau. At a hundred yards from the gate lay the body of Theodore himself, pierced with three balls, one of which, it is said, he fired with his own hand. He was of middle height and very thin, and the expression of his face in death was mild rather than the reverse. He had thrown-off the rich robe in which he had ridden over the plain, and was in an ordinary chief’s red-and-white cloth.

The fighting was now over. A hundred men or so had escaped down a path upon the other side of the fortress, and the rest of the defenders had fled into their houses, and emerged as peaceable inhabitants without their weapons. Nothing could be more admirable than the behaviour of the 33d. I did not see a single instance of a man either of this or of the regiment which followed attempting to take a single ornament or other article from the person of any of the natives. These latter thronged out of their houses, bearing their household goods, and salaaming to the ground, as they made their way towards the gate of the fort. I went into several of the abandoned huts; they contained nothing but rubbish. A few goats and cattle stood in the enclosures, and bags of [pg 404]grain were in plenty. The poor people had been well content to escape with their lives, and with what they could carry away on their own shoulders and those of their pack-animals.

I presently met an affecting procession. These were the native prisoners. Laden with heavy feet-chains were at least a hundred poor wretches who had lingered for years in the tyrant’s clutches. Many of them were unable to walk, and were carried along by their friends. We pitied them vastly more than we have done the prisoners sent in to us, who, with commodious tents, numbers of servants, and plentiful supplies of money and food, have had a far better time of it than these poor wretches of natives. They endeavoured in every way to express their joy and thankfulness. They bent to the ground, they cried, they clapped their hands; and the women—at least such as were not chained—danced, and set-up their shrill cry of welcome. Very kind were the soldiers to them, and not a few gave-up their search for odd articles of plunder to set-to with hammer and chisel to remove their chains. There were some hundreds of huts upon the flat plateau, but not one of them bore any signs of the bombardment; and fortunately the great distance at which the guns were fired had saved the inhabitants from the injury which they must otherwise have suffered from the needless bombardment. A few people had been wounded when the 33d had first entered, but their number was very small; and it seems incredible that out of so large a population only some ten or fifteen, and these the defenders of the gate, were killed.

The huts were all of the same size and description—stone walls with conical roofs, and no light except that which en[pg 405]tered by the door. The King himself lived in a tent. His wife, or I should rather say wives, lived in a house precisely similar in shape, but larger than the other tents. One or two of these poor women were among the wounded, having rushed wildly about the place before the firing ceased, and being struck by stray bullets. It is extremely satisfactory to know that no lives, with the exception of those of the actual fighting-men, were sacrificed.

We have no killed, but have ten or fifteen wounded, most of them very slightly. One of the Punjaubees who was wounded in the fight three days before has since died. The loot obtained by the soldiers was generally of the most trifling description. Pieces of the hangings of the King’s tent, bits of tawdry brocade, and such-like, are the general total. A very few got some gold crosses, and other more valuable articles. A general order has been issued, ordering all valuable spoil to be returned; but I do not imagine that the amount returned will be large. All the spoil taken, with the arms, &c., will be sold by auction in a day or two, and the result at once divided. It is known that considerable sums in dollars and gold have been buried, and a search is being instituted for them, but without, I imagine, much chance of success. In my wanderings I came upon a large hut, which turned out to be the royal cellar. Here the natives were serving-out “tedge”—which I have already described as a drink resembling small-beer and lemonade mixed, with a very strong musty flavour—to soldiers. There were at least a hundred large jars filled with the liquid, which the soldiers call beer, and which, thirsty as the men were, was very refreshing. It was now nearly six o’clock, and the soldiers had had nothing to eat or drink since early morning. [pg 406]I should say that every soldier in the force supped that night upon fowl. Their value here, except when offered to us for sale, is merely nominal, and none of the people took the trouble to take them away; consequently they were running about in hundreds, and gave rise to many animated chases.

Magdala itself is about half a mile long by a quarter of a mile wide, its narrow end joining the shoulder to Salamgi, and as this end is rather narrow, it touches the shoulder only for about fifty or sixty yards. At this point I should say that the plateau of the fortress is 200 feet above the shoulder. Upon its other side it would be 1200 feet sheer down. The 33d planted their colours upon the highest spot, and General Napier when he entered addressed a few words to the men, saying, “that they had made the attack in gallant style.” Of course, as it turned out, the danger was slight; but this does not detract from the way in which the regiment went up to the assault; as, for anything they could tell, there might have been hundreds of men concealed in the huts immediately behind the gate.

The two most valuable articles of booty which were known to have been obtained were purchased by Mr. Holmes, of the British Museum, for the nation, of the soldiers by whom they were taken. The one was, one of the royal shields of Abyssinia, one of which I described as having been borne by Gobayze’s uncle when he visited our camp. The other is a gold chalice, probably four or five centuries old. It has the inscription in Amharic, of which the following is the translation: “The chalice of King Adam-Squad, called Gazor, the son of Queen Brhan, Moquera. Presented to Kwoskwan Sanctuary (Gondar). May my body and soul be purified! [pg 407]Weight 25 wohkits of pure gold, and value 500 dollars. Made by Waldo Giergis.” The name of the maker would seem to testify that he was either the son of an Italian, or an Italian who had adopted an Abyssinian first name. As these acquisitions are made for the nation, Sir Robert has decided that they are not to be given up. He has also directed that Mr. Holmes may select such other articles as may be suited to the Museum before the auction takes place.

The second brigade passed the night in Magdala, and still remain there; the first brigade returned to camp, which they did not reach until a very late hour. The aspect of the hill of Salamgi, and of the plains below it, was very striking, as I rode through it at night. The great emigrant population had encamped there, and their innumerable fires had a very pretty effect. During the night a very scandalous act of theft and sacrilege took place. The coffin of the late Abuna, a high priest, was broken open; his body was torn almost to pieces, and a cross, set with precious stones of the value of some thousands of pounds, was stolen. It is quite certain that this act was not perpetrated by our soldiers, as they of course knew nothing either of the Abuna or his cross. Suspicion generally points to some of the late prisoners, who knew, what was, it appears, a matter of notoriety, that the Abuna had purchased this extremely valuable ornament to be buried with it.

The expedition is now at an end. Its objects are most successfully attained, and the interest and excitement are over. We have now only our long and weary march back again. The day upon which we turn our faces homeward is not yet settled; the 20th is at present named. We shall [pg 408]probably halt at Dalanta for a day or two, and there it is said that Gobayze will visit the Chief, and that we shall have a grand parade.

The opinion which the natives will entertain of us upon our homeward march will be singularly different from those with which they regarded us upon our advance. Then they looked upon us as mere traders, prepared to buy, but incompetent to fight for our countrymen in chains; now they will regard us as the conquerors of the hitherto invincible Theodore, and as braves, therefore, of the most distinguished order.

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 [pg 409]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 [pg 410]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 [pg 411]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 [pg 412]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 manoeuvre 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 [pg 413]hope that nothing will occur to postpone our departure. Some of the troops will certainly start to-day or to-morrow.

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. [pg 414]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 [pg 415]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 [pg 416]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 [pg 417]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 [pg 418]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: