The Memoirs of Admiral Lord Beresford
intrigues and gossip of domestic politics, the portentous manoeuvres
upon the clouded stage of international drama: all of which, to the
sailors and soldiers of the forlorn hope strung along the gigantic
reaches of the Nile, toiling and fighting in the desert, went by as
though it had never been. It is an old story now; very many of my
gallant comrades have passed away; but the record of their courage and
endurance remains, and shall remain.
When we arrived in Cairo there were already 29 naval officers and 190
men, divided into several sections, at work along the Nile. These were
sent by Admiral Lord John Hay, commander-in-chief in the Mediterranean.
In addition, the Admiralty had appointed two or three senior officers,
among whom was Captain Boardman (afterwards Admiral F. R. Boardman,
C.B.). At Lord Wolseley's request, Boardman was placed in command of
the whole naval contingent, which had not hitherto been under either a
naval officer in chief command or the military authority. My own
position with regard to the naval contingent was simply that of Lord
Wolseley's representative.
While we were in Cairo I purchased for £24 my famous racing camel
Bimbashi. Buller also bought a camel, and we rode together daily. He
used to laugh till he nearly fell out of his saddle, when my camel ran
away with me through and over foot-passengers, donkeys, carriages and
dogs. I might haul Bimbashi's head round till it was under my knee,
and he was looking astern, and still he charged onwards.
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The whale-boats designed to transport the expedition were then arriving
in large numbers. The total number was 800. They were similar to the
man-of-war 30-foot whaler, but fuller in the body to enable them to
carry more weight. Each boat was 30 feet long, with six feet six
inches beam, and two feet six inches draught, fitted for 12 oars, and
two masts with lug sails, and capable of carrying 10 soldiers, two
boatmen (Canadian _voyageurs_), 1000 rations and ammunition.
There was a story current when the boats were struggling up the Nile,
that one of them, manned by a sergeant and eight soldiers, but without
a _voyageur_ on board, having run athwart a rock and upset, a soldier
observed to the sergeant that "the cove who sent nine men in a boat
with 1000 rations must have been this here journey before!"
There were also to be provided eight steam pinnaces, two stern-wheel
paddle boats, and a number of hired Egyptian Government steamers. The
whale-boats as they arrived were sent, first, by rail and river to
Assiout. Thence they were towed to Assouan, where is the First
Cataract. Here they were either railed on trucks, or hauled through
the rapids to Shellal, eight miles up. From Shellal to Wady Halfa, 200
miles farther, was plain sailing. At Wady Halfa is the Second Cataract
and the formidable rapid of Bab-el-Kebir, or the "Great Gate."
Early in September I was ordered by Lord Wolseley to go up the Nile,
overhauling the arrangements for the water transport, right up to Wady
Halfa, which would be the temporary military base, I went by train from
Cairo to Assiout, the hottest journey I had ever endured. India was
nothing to it. The desert gathered itself up to destroy me. Any
little spot upon my person which was not deep in desert was a
fly-bazaar. But at Assiout a cold shower-bath paid for all. Here I
investigated the transport arrangements made by Captain Boardman, and
found them excellent. I may say at once that the whole of Captain
Boardman's work was admirable, and that his management {224} throughout
the campaign was marked by the greatest good feeling, tact, and
patience.
I left Assiout in one of Messrs. Cook's steamers, the _Fersaat_, which
had the appearance of a boat and the manners of a kangaroo. She was
loosely concocted of iron and leaked at every rivet; she squealed and
grunted; her boiler roared like a camel; she bounded as she went. Her
Reis (captain and pilot) was a sorrowful old Mohammedan, whose only
method of finding out if the shoals and sands were still in the same
place was by running upon them; and his manner of getting off them was
to cry "Allah Kerim!" ("God is great!") and to beat his poor old
forehead on the deck. In the meantime one of his Arabs, tastefully
attired in a long blue night-gown, an enormous pair of drawers, and
decorated elastic-sided boots, stripped and jumped overboard and pushed
the boat, and while he pushed he chanted a dirge. As the boat began to
move, he made sounds which suggested that he was about to be violently
sick but could not quite manage it satisfactorily, although encouraged
thereto by the loud objurgations of the two stokers. When he clambered
back on deck, he put on the decorated boots and walked about in them
till he was dry enough to dress; while the Reis gave thanks to his
Maker, and the two stokers, men who knew nothing and feared nothing,
piled wood on the furnaces and drove the boat along again.
If anyone walked from port to starboard or touched the helm, the boat
rolled over, and until the next roll maintained a list of ten degrees,
so that I was frequently shot off the locker upon which I was trying to
sleep, landing upon the top of José, my Maltese interpreter, and
followed by field-glasses, filter, sword and boots. The
mosquito-curtains carried away, and the mosquitoes instantly attacked
in force, driving me nearly mad with loss of blood, irritation, and
rage. My only comfort was a pneumatic life-belt, which had been sent
to me by Lady Charles, and which I used as a pillow.
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So we struggled along against the stream for the 330 miles to Assouan;
and the weather was not too hot, and the nights were cool, and the
banks were fringed with date-palms, and every night the sun sank from
the intense blue of the zenith, laced with long-drawn clouds of rose,
to the lucent green low in the west, and the sand turned to gold colour
and rose, until the sun dropped suddenly out of sight and all turned
grey like ashes. Then a cold little wind sprang up out of the desert
and the night deepened into the velvet dark flashing with a myriad
stars.
On 23rd September I came to Assouan: reorganised the postal service to
bring two mails a week by steam-launch: made arrangements for the rapid
working of the water transport generally, ready for the time of
pressure, and sent an urgent request for flexible wire hawsers, as I
was sure they would be urgently required.
Leaving Assouan on 24th September, I arrived at Wady Halfa on the 27th.
Here were Sir Evelyn Wood and his Staff; among whom was my old friend
Zohrab Pasha. I was immediately set to work trying camels, as I had
become acquainted with these singular animals in India.
Upon the day of my arrival I went out with a young officer in the
Mounted Infantry. His camel blundered over an irrigation ditch, and
flung my young friend head over heels into the mud, where he sat
looking sadly up into the face of his steed, which was complaining, as
camels do, making a peculiar mumbling noise like an old woman kept
waiting for her tea. Having been restored to his seat, this
unfortunate youth immediately rode too close to the river and
incontinently fell into a deep mud hole from which he had to be dug out.
On 5th October Lord Wolseley arrived at Wady Halfa, as cheery as usual,
and took up his quarters in a _dahabieh_. Sir Redvers Buller and
Zohrab Pasha were also dwelling in _dahabiehs_. I was attached to Sir
Evelyn Wood's mess, Sir Evelyn being in charge of communications. I
lived in a small bell tent close to the river, chiefly furnished with a
{226} penny whistle, a photograph of Lady Charles, my letters from
home, and a stag beetle big enough to carry me to hounds, which I
generally had to chase from my bed.
Upon Lord Wolseley's arrival we heard the rumour of the murder of
Colonel Stewart at El-Kamar, and of the slaying of his companions.
Ultimately, the news was confirmed. Stewart, with three steamers, had
left Khartoum on 10th September. After shelling the forts at Berber,
two of the steamers returned; while Stewart, in the Abbas, which was
towing two boats carrying refugees, went on to Abu Hamid, where the
natives opened a heavy fire. The boats were cast adrift and their
passengers captured. Stewart went on; his steamer was wrecked near the
village of Hebbeh, at which, having been induced to land by treachery,
Stewart, M. Herbin, French Consul at Khartoum, Mr. Power, _Times_
correspondent, and a number of Greeks and Egyptians, were slain. It
was a pitiful end to all Colonel Stewart's gallant service with Gordon.
During the first part of my time at Wady Halfa I was engaged under Lord
Wolseley's instructions in the inspection of the transport up and down
the river, often riding more than forty miles in a day upon a camel.
Wady Halfa was then being formed into the base camp preparatory to the
general advance: and troops and stores were arriving daily. The
railway ran along the east bank of the river to Sarras, 33 miles
distant.
One day, when Sir Evelyn Wood and a party of soldiers were going by
train to Sarras, and Commander Hammill and I were accompanying them,
the engine broke down half-way. The Egyptian engineer and stoker being
helpless, Hammill and I examined the locomotive, Hammill taking the top
part, while I lay on my back underneath, close to the furnace, where
the sensation was like being baked in an oven. The bearings were
overheated, a lubricating tube having become unscrewed. After two
hours' hard work, we managed to reverse the tube end for end and to
refix it. Sir Evelyn Wood helped to pull me from under the engine,
{227} and laughed till he cried. I was covered with black grease from
top to toe, and my clothes were scorched to tatters. Hammill was in no
better case, his suit being drenched with oil. The spectacle may have
been very amusing to the general; but neither Hammill nor I had more
than two suits, and here was one of them destroyed entirely.
By the 5th October, when Lord Wolseley arrived at Wady Halfa, Sir
Herbert Stewart had been for several days at Dongola with 250 Mounted
Infantry, who were transported in _nuggars_ (native boats) from Sarras.
The whale-boats were arriving daily at Wady Halfa, the first boat
having been hauled through the rapids on 25th September, and by the 5th
October there were 103 whalers assembled at Wady Halfa. At Wady Halfa
is the Second Cataract, at the lower end of which is the gorge of
Bab-el-Kebir, the Great Gate. Between Wady Halfa and Dal are the
cataracts of Samneh, Attireh, Ambigol, Tangour and Akasha. At
intervals of about 33 miles from Sarras to (New) Dongola, stations were
established with commissariat depots. The transport of troops and
stores from the base camp at Wady Halfa to Dongola consisted of the
steamers, whale-boats, and _nuggars_ along the river, the train from
Wady Halfa to Sarras, from Sarras to Ambigol by camel, thence by water.
The Camel Corps marched along the east bank to Dongola. It was
composed of four regiments, Heavy, Light, Guards, and Mounted Infantry,
each being composed of detachments from cavalry and infantry regiments,
each detachment consisting of two officers, two sergeants, two
corporals, one bugler, and 38 men; total, 94 officers, 1700 N.C.O.'s
and men.
Such, in brief, was the condition of affairs early in October (1884),
when I was stationed at the Second Cataract at Wady Halfa. Here the
Nile divides into two, flowing on either side of a group of rocks and
islands for about 20 miles, and at the other (or upper) end of the
group of rocks and islands, on the east (or left) bank, is the
sickle-shaped gorge of Bab-el-Kebir. At this time, although the {228}
river was falling, the roar of the torrent pouring through the Bab was