The Memoirs of Admiral Lord Beresford
so tremendous, that no voice could be heard, and we communicated with
one another by semaphore. When I left the Bab, goats were feeding in
the bed of the river.
Lord Wolseley told me that he was informed that it was impossible to
haul the steamers up the Second Cataract, and asked me if I could do it.
I replied that nothing was impossible until it was proved to be
impossible; and that, in the case under consideration, I would admit
the impossibility when I had smashed two steamers in trying to get them
through; while if I smashed only one, I might thereby get experience
which would enable me to succeed with the other.
The steamers were hauled through successfully while the Bab-el-Kebir
was still full and roaring, the current being so powerful that the
steamers forging against it trembled like a whip.
Some 4000 natives were put on the hawser of the first steamer; and as
they hauled her up, she had but a foot's clearance between her sides
and the rocks. The torrent flung her against them, and if she had not
been defended by timber and mats, she would have been smashed to
pieces. About the middle of the gorge the natives could move her no
farther. Whereupon they cried to Allah to strengthen them, and to
order the rope to pull harder and to slacken the water. But as their
prayers availed not, I eased the steamer back again, and put about 1500
British soldiers on the hawser. They did not pray; indeed, their
language was as it were the reverse of prayer; but they dragged the
steamer right through. Theologically speaking, the victory should have
gone to the natives. I put the problem to a bishop, but he was unable
to solve it.
The task of hauling the whalers through the Second Cataract was at
first entrusted to Koko, the native pilot Of Bab-el-Kebir. His method
was to take a line, dive with it into the rapids, and carry it across
the river. The line was {229} frequently torn from him by the current,
and many of the boats were stove in against the rocks.
I designed a scheme of haulage, and was eventually placed by Lord
Wolseley in charge of the whole of the water transport from Wady Halfa
to Gemai, a stretch of about 17 miles. At Gemai was established a
dockyard, where damaged boats were repaired and equipped for the rest
of the voyage.
My scheme for hauling the boats consisted of a stout standing guess
warp rigged as nearly as possible at right angles to the course of the
boat to be hauled, and secured at either end to rock or tree; one end
of a short hawser was hooked to the guess warp, so that it could move
freely up and down it, and a block was secured to the other end.
Through the block was rove a towing rope proper, one end secured to the
boat, and the working party on land tailing on to the other. As the
course of the river shifted, the guess warp was moved; the whole
passage being accomplished by a series of these operations. In certain
places two blocks were used, a standing block and a pendant block, a
pendant being rove through the standing block, one end secured to the
pendant block, men hauling on the other end; and through the pendant
block was rove the hauling line, one end secured to the boat, men
hauling on the other upon the bank opposite to that on which were the
pendant crew. By hauling on the hauling line, then easing the pendant,
and then hauling again on the hauling line, the boat was brought clear
of the Cataract and hauled round the corner into smooth water.
Each boat was supplied with two poles for punting and a long line for
tracking, besides oars and sails.
The whole equipment of the boats was organised by Sir Redvers Buller,
who utilised his experience of the Red River expedition, and nothing
could have better served its purpose.
The _nuggars_, or native boats, were bought near Assouan, and were then
brought up to Wady Halfa, whence they were hauled through the Cataract,
then loaded with stores and {230} sent on up river. It was of the
utmost importance that they should be dispatched as quickly as
possible; for an army moves on its stomach, and the _nuggars_ carried
the wherewithal. Their sails, being invariably rotten, were blown to
pieces in the Cataracts. They were constantly crashing into the rocks,
which made holes in them, when they were hauled by main force to the
shore, where a dock was excavated in the sand to receive them. Here
they were repaired and thence dispatched up river.
A _nuggar_ would come sailing along, when there was a sudden crash, the
bluejacket at the helm was pitched headlong into the bottom of the
boat, while the sail split into ribbons, and the native crew embraced
the mast crying that Allah was great!
When the whale-boats came along, their passage was so arranged that a
regiment, or part of a regiment, was kept together; the distribution
being maintained all up the river, so that a homogeneous body could be
landed at any moment for attack or defence if necessary.
So furious was the torrent, that whoso fell into it seldom rose again,
unless he were one of the expert Dongola divers. The men coming up in
the boats, who had done and suffered much before reaching Wady Halfa,
had repaired their trousers with biscuit tins. I overheard the
following dialogue between one of these tin-bottomed weary heroes and a
comrade on the bank:
"Hullo, Bill, 'ow are you getting on?"
"Me? I've been pulling on this here ruddy river for about two years.
'Ow far is it to Gemai?"
"About fifteen miles, mate."
"O my Gawd! Is there an 'orspital there?"
Late in October, the _voyageurs_ arrived, a fine body of men, 380
strong.
Being acquainted with rapids and understanding their navigation, the
_voyageurs_ were invaluable in bringing the boats through the long and
difficult reaches of the Nile up to Wady Halfa, and from Wady Halfa up
to Korti. The {231} task could never have been accomplished in the
time, and the losses of boats would have been heavier, had it not been
for the _voyageurs_.
As the boats came through the Bab or across the portage, the
_voyageurs_ took charge of them and sailed them up to Gemai. Here they
were overhauled and fully equipped, the soldiers were embarked, and
away they went up river.
By the 6th November, 60 boats had left Gemai with the Sussex regiment
on board. The river was then falling so swiftly that a new course for
the boats must be found almost every day. Hitherto the boats had been
passed through the Cataract almost without a scratch or the loss of a
single article of gear. Now the rocks began to show through the surf
in the Bab.
A boat was smashed. We caught her lower down; and with 200 men
portaged her over a rocky hill, across the neck of land formed by the
curve of the Bab, then laid her keel upwards across two other boats,
and so floated, took her up to Gemai dockyard. I was the more pleased
with this piece of salvage, because everyone said it was impossible to
save the boat. The last nine boats, after being emptied of all gear,
were hauled clean over the rocks by main force. They came prettily
lipping through the boiling torrent from rock to rock, taking the blows
upon keel and bilge pieces, so that they were scarcely damaged.
Early in October, foreseeing that, as the water fell, the Bab-el-Kebir
would become impracticable, I had designed a scheme for a portage. The
alternative would have been to entrain the boats from Wady Halfa to
Sarras, an expedient which, as the whole of the train service was
required to carry provisions, would have involved immense delay.
My plan was to haul the boats up to the entrance of the Bab and then to
carry them across the neck of land formed by the curve of the Bab, a
distance of 2488 yards, which required 400 men, who should be divided
into sections of 40 to each boat. The boat was hauled on shore, her
masts, oars, and poles laid on the ground to serve as bearers; the boat
was {232} laid on these keel uppermost, and was then lifted and
carried, the masts, oars, and poles resting on the men's shoulders, and
other men supporting the boat by resting thwarts and gunwale on their
shoulders. My scheme was at first received with incredulity by all
except Lord Wolseley. But I made a trial trip with 30 men, and had the
boat across the portage, including six stoppages for rest, and in the
water with all her gear without a scratch, in an hour and twenty
minutes. The passage of Bab-el-Kebir, low as the water had become,
would have taken at least six hours, with great risk of disaster.
Now, having hauled the last nine boats through, over the rocks, the
portage scheme came into operation; and on the 6th November I closed
the Bab, and used the portage, by means of which alone it was made
possible to continue the supply of boats at the same rate.
Thenceforward we were able to put the boats through quicker than they
were supplied.
Many of the boats were poisonous to handle, as their matting was
infested with scorpions.
My dwelling was at first a tent at Wady Halfa, and afterwards a hut on
the bank beside the Bab-el-Kebir. It stood within six feet of the
roaring river, in a grove of mimosa. The camels lunched daily upon the
long sharp thorns of the mimosa, apparently relishing these spines as a
form of Worcester sauce.
Rising at daylight, every day I covered some thirty miles up and down
the shore of the Cataract, superintending operations from dawn till
dark. I rode one of my camels, Bimbashi or Ballyhooly or Beelzebub, or
my donkey, County Waterford, so named because the second time I
contested him I lost my seat: a political allegory. Being short of
both officers and men, my presence was required everywhere at once. By
haulage and portage a perpetual procession of whaleboats and _nuggars_
was kept moving up to the dockyard at Gemai.
From Wady Halfa to the Bab the Cataract was divided {233} into reaches,
a post being stationed at each. At the first reach were Peel of the
2nd Life Guards and 200 Dongola men; at the Naval Camp, on the second
reach, were Lieutenant Colbourne and 350 Dongola men; at Palm Tree
Camp, in the third reach, were an Egyptian officer and 100 Dongola men;
for the portage at Bab-el-Kebir I had 500 men of the 2nd Egyptian
battalion under their colonel, and another of their officers,
Shakespeare of the Marines, who had been with me in the _Thunderer_.
All along the Cataract were stationed small parties of carpenters and
sailmakers in order that damages should be repaired on the spot.
Living with me was Colonel Grant, who was in command of all the Dongola
men. Later, the Canadian _voyageurs_ camped beside my hut.
By means of the distribution of work, each section being placed under a
responsible officer, progress speedily became three times as fast.
Officers and men worked magnificently. I was proud of the old Navy.
The routine for the bluejackets was: Turn out 4.30 a.m., breakfast;
walk seven to ten miles through the desert along the river, often
having to retrace their steps to help a boat in distress; work all day
till sunset, no spell for dinner, which consisted of biscuit; at
sunset, walk seven miles back to camp, supper and turn in. The
officers walked with the men, giving their camels to the men who
suffered from sore feet. Officers and men were burned as black as the
natives.
Until my arrival, the nine naval officers and the doctor had been
living at the Naval Camp nine miles from Wady Halfa, without a single
servant or a cook. They were allowed neither servants nor the money
with which to hire natives. But nothing could exceed the kindness and