The camp was formed on the bank of the Prah, or more properly Busum Prah, which is roughly reckoned as the boundary line of the British Protectorate and Ashanti, though since 1874 the latter country has never regained her lost power over territory south of the Adansi hills. The Adansis who used to inhabit the portion beyond the Prah, have removed to safer quarters on the south bank, and the district beyond is a waste or no-man's land, dotted with a few hamlets occupied by miserable settlers, while the sites of many old towns are now only marked by a heap of ruins.
On entering the camp, we passed the hospitals which were just being completed, though one ward was already nearly full, for the dreaded fever had attacked the advanced party of the Army Service Corps and Engineers. There were six of the latter corps in hospital, all of the telegraph department. Their work in laying the cables had been particularly arduous, slaving from morning till night, exposed to the hot sun one minute, and in the damp shade of the trees the next. The little body of the Army Service Corps, who had been toiling and steaming under the leadership of Captains Barnard and Matthews in receiving and checking loads of stores from sunrise to sunset, had also suffered, and several had been obliged to give in. These two Departmental Corps usually bear the brunt of the “kicks,” but do not always get a full share of the “halfpence.”
The Hospital buildings were large and airy, built of bamboo, and raised three feet off the ground. The interiors were fitted with rows of small bamboo rests, so the patient, brought in on a stretcher, had simply to be lifted to a stand, the body of the stretcher forming the bed. There were also small separate wards for officers, a native ward and dispensary under the charge of Staff Sergeant Ormiston, a genial and sturdy warrior who had seen much service.
Under the watchful eye of Surgeon-Col. Taylor, the P.M.O., who arrived with the Staff, things were soon put into perfect order, and it was evident that the Medical Authorities at home had a thorough grasp of the requirements for the Expedition. Nothing had been forgotten, even the smallest details having received due attention. General Mackinnon, when Surgeon-Major, was entrusted with the medical supervision of the '73 Expedition, and, doubtless, the evidence of forethought and care taken in the present arrangements under his directorship, were mainly attributable to the knowledge of the climate he gained at that time.
This also applies to Lord Wolseley, assisted by the Adjutant-General, Sir Redvers Buller, V.C., and the Quartermaster-General, Sir Evelyn Wood, V.C. They used their previous knowledge, gained in the country, to the best advantage, and nothing was lacking.
The Army Service Corps had gathered piles of stores in the compound at Prahsu, and long lines of carriers were constantly arriving from the coast. The road was particularly lively with the thousands passing to and fro continuously, and the whole route was often blocked by the moving mass. They worked in gangs, each under its own chief, and wearing distinguishing armlets. One gang with cases of bouilli beef, another with lime juice, pressed vegetables, or biscuit. A few lady gangs were also used to take supplies to the Prah, and these worked far harder than the men, and were more cheerful, notwithstanding they had often an additional load in the person of a little brown baby, nodding behind in the ample folds of the mother's wrap.
Near the bank of the river stands the European Frontier House, used by any Houssa officer or official that might have cause to occupy the station. In this two storied building, once white, but now a dingy yellow, the Staff took up their quarters. Such a thatched residence would not be classed as a good barn in England, but it is considered quite palatial in West Africa's sunny clime, where even a royal palace is of-mud. A long apartment on the ground floor was used for a mess-room and offices, while access was obtained to the upper floor by a rough outside ladder, up which Sir Francis Scott and Prince Henry had to climb when retiring.
Skirting the camp, its yellow waters flowing on in stealthy silence, is the Busum Prah, a beautiful stream of about one hundred and eighty yards in width. The current is swift, and, in the rainy season, it is a surging turbid flood, but in the dry months it is fordable in many places. In December its waters were quietly flowing between high banks clothed in luxuriant foliage; the motionless forms of the trees dully reflected on the unruffled but dark waters, as they flowed through a region of densest forest.
Singularly, the aspect of the fringe of forest verging on the north bank opposite Prahsu, is not particularly tropical, and from the south side the landscape has a most English appearance, resembling rather the outskirts of a well-wooded estate in Hants than an African forest. This is mainly due to the entire absence of palms and other tropical plants close to the bank, but the moment the river is crossed, and the forest entered, the English idea is dispelled by the thick and rich profusion of undergrowth and dense bush immediately encountered. Above and below the camp the river flows through a glorious tangled mass of luxuriant bush, with graceful feathery palms and long creepers hanging right to the water's edge. The river is worshipped by the natives in the vicinity as being the abode of the Busum or fetish, the rivers inland, beside the sea, being held as a sacred haunt of the gods of West Africa.
The stream of humanity had seriously disturbed the equanimity of the crocodiles in the Prah, and by way of protest, they removed themselves from the vicinity, leaving the river safe for bathing by the bridge. The scaly brutes had congregated a little lower down the river, but were too much on the alert to give a chance to the few keen sportsmen, who pushed through the jungle on murder bent. There were one or two fruitless excursions undertaken by different officers, and Surgeon-Captain Cunningham, Correspondent for the Lancet, and an ardent sportsman, made several difficult trips through the bush in his endeavours to secure a bag, but he was unsuccessful each time.
When on a botanising expedition within a few hundred yards of the camp, I had a golden and unexpected chance of a pot at the amphibious game. Emerging from a dense tangle to the river bank, I espied a wily old beast who, more daring than his fellows, had come up the river, possibly to reconnoitre. He was quite unconscious that a bloodthirsty two-legged monster was in the vicinity and who, though not looking for game, was none the less seized with a desire to kill when the unsought opportunity arrived. He lay like a log on the water, his gaping jaws facing the bank, and offering a beautiful target. Alas, I hesitated to alter my position for a steadier aim, and was lost. He spotted me almost as I fired. Bang! His lordship sank like a stone, with a derisive wisk of his tail as he disappeared, and my bullet was received in the responsive bosom of the Prah. He put two little snail-like nostrils up to breathe shortly after, but far out of range of my revolver, and doubtless he gazed at my retiring form with a twinkle of mingled scorn and amusement in his armoured eyes when he had slunk to a safe retreat. And I? Well, I went home in a sadder if not a wiser mood, for had I not been offered a chance denied to far more deserving sportsmen, and yet made a grievous hash of it.
Prince Henry, Prince Christian, and Major Piggott had several shooting excursions in the vicinity of the camp, but the density of the bush interferes greatly with sport and large bags were not obtainable.
Close behind the huts built for the detachment of Houssas is a spot that has a melancholy interest to all Englishmen. A narrow pathway opens through the bush, its entrance being marked by a huge cotton tree, in the bark of which is cut a large cross and an inscription, now, unfortunately, almost indistinguishable. Passing up the path there is a second tree whose bark bears the initials T H W and a little further on is a large mound planted with a grove of small trees, beneath which sleep the soldiers who fell from wounds and sickness during the last war. On one side of this mound is a single grave surrounded by a plaited cane fence which marks the place where Captain Huyshe was buried, and in the centre of the small cemetery, a splendid tree spreads its branches as a canopy of dense foliage over the melancholy forest graveyard, in which another inmate was to be laid to rest only too soon.
The days at Prahsu passed quickly. On December 31st we arrived, and a considerable number of congenial spirits gathered to welcome the New Year in true Caledonian fashion, though the wiser or less enthusiastic ones retired early to rest. When the strains of “Auld Lang Syne” aroused the niggers from their midnight slumbers under the trees, they wondered what fetish custom was being kept up, as the forms of the white men, with hands clasped, were revealed by the flickering of the camp fire.
Usually the Prah has to be crossed in a long dug-out canoe made from the hollowed trunk of a cotton tree. Major Sinclair and his Engineers, however, had built a substantial pontoon bridge which was safe enough in the dry season, but how it will stand the rain when the river is twenty feet higher, remains to be seen. The work of transporting the casks through the bush to form the pontoons was a very difficult one, and by making use of the large trees on the banks, a suspension bridge would have been more expeditious and much more durable.
Prahsu is certainly not an ideal spot for a camp as it is very damp from its proximity to the river, and therefore unhealthy. A thick mist hangs like a pall, completely hiding the trees round the clearing, and not till the sun is high, does this veil rise. At ten o'clock in the morning, the tree tops were often not visible, and though at last, as the sun gained power, the mists would gather in heavy wreaths, and roll away to seek a hiding in the swamps till night, there was a feeling of dampness and mustiness which the fierce heat of midday never quite dispelled. Before the dewdrops were evaporated from the blades of the jungle grass, the miasma would gradually rise, and by sunset, perpetual fog again enveloped everything.
The Artillery arrived in Prahsu on January 1st, but they received special orders and crossed the Prah a few hours after to advance to Kwisa, to support the levies.
During the morning, a nigger darted up to me, and seizing my hand, literally leaped round in transports of joy, and I recognised the carrier who was in charge of my missing kit. There sure enough was the bundle lying intact close by. He had missed me in the last camp, but had never rested till his load was safely delivered; for the honesty of the natives is proverbial when dealing with a white man's things. They have a wholesome fear of the law, and a few days before, two carriers, probably worn out or ill, deserted, leaving their loads by the roadside. When these were found by a patrol, each man's badge, armlet and day's subsistence money was laid on top of the load. Unfortunately this rule does not always apply, and the civilised Negro is usually a terrible thief, for his enlightenment has made him cunning, and he does not fear betrayal from any occult power or fetish of the white man.
At about midday the Ansahs arrived from the coast where they had landed on December 27th. They had an interview with Governor Maxwell there, and submitted their credentials and a document dated September 8th, 1894, purporting to bear the mark and seal of King Prempeh. The Governor is not a man to be taken in by natives, even if they have been educated in English schools, and after an attempt at bluff, the Ansahs confessed that the document had never been seen by King Prempeh, but was drawn up on the coast, and the seal, manufactured in England, had been affixed in London by John Ansah.
So much for the talked-of envoys, who (vide a section of the Press) were shamefully treated in London by Mr. Chamberlain, who wickedly refused to negotiate with them, and thus rendered an expedition necessary, when it could easily have been avoided. Such random twaddle requires no comment, for subsequent events speak for themselves.
The Ansahs were at once told by the Governor that the Colonial Government would not recognise their statements or declarations as binding on King Prempeh, so they had better set out at once for Kumassi, and advise the King to accept the terms which had been sent to him by the other envoys. They were, however, in no hurry to leave Cape Coast, being afraid of the consequences when they reached their King, and they made every excuse to delay their departure. They started for Prahsu eventually, having much trouble with their carriers on the road, who did not relish working for “Shantee-man” and deserted at every opportunity. They came into camp in hammocks, having, among other things, a tin of children's biscuits, some bottles of sweets, and two pounds of candles, as presents to mollify the wrath of the tyrant in the capital. They both seemed weighed down with anxiety, which was not feigned; for their royal master would have thought nothing of beheading the two of them if he supposed they had neglected his commands in the slightest degree.
The Ansah Princes are grandsons of the late King Osai Tootoo Quamin Bonsoo. Naturally, when one has recovered from the shock of that stupendous announcement, little wonder is caused that these Princes refused to take in letters from Sir W. Brandford Griffith; for the Princes were actually addressed therein as “Messengers to the King of Kumassi,” instead of “Royal Ambassadors of Ashanti,” which the Princely John Ossoo Ansah said was a “breach of civilised etiquette“.
Singularly on the morning of their arrival, envoys came in from the subsidiary Ashanti King of Bekwai saying that this important ally of Kumassi would accept the English flag if we could send troops up to protect him from Prempeh's forces. A palaver had been held in Kumassi to which all the Ashanti chiefs had been summoned. The King of Bekwai, Yow Boatin, did not attend. Thereupon Prempeh sent men to bring him by force, but the subordinate monarch so forgot his good manners as to allow his people to beat Prempeh's myrmidons out of the town, and then, fearful of the consequences, he dispatched these ambassadors to the English for help.
The Bekwai messengers were terribly alarmed when they heard of the Ansahs' arrival, and the consequent risk of the discovery of their double dealings. However, by various subterfuges, the Ansahs were detained in front of Headquarters while the trembling ambassadors, hastily stripping off all badges of office, were hurried over the Prah, and they were well on their way home again before the Ansahs re-started.
These Ashantis from Bekwai were evidently types of a far superior race to the Fanti people on the coast. Our allies are contemptible cowards in war while the Ashantis have been hardened by years of constant fighting. Lord Wolseley, speaking in 1874 on the Negro as a soldier, dwelt on the many instances of personal bravery among the Ashantis in the late war. On one occasion an Ashanti was found guarding the path, but he stood till the officers, leading the advancing troops, were within five yards of him,' when he coolly fired point blank at them, and such acts of individual reckless bravery were common throughout that campaign. It was the habit of Ashanti generals to post-certain men behind the fighting line, and their special duty was to kill every coward who fell back during the battle. If an Ashanti general were defeated it meant death to him; for he paid the forfeit with his head when he returned to Kumassi, and they usually committed suicide on the field rather than suffer the disgrace of public execution.
On January 2nd, the Bearer Company of the Medical Staff Corps, arrived with their commanding officer, Surgeon-Major Wolseley. These “Poultice Wallahs,” as they are playfully dubbed by brother “Tommies” of other corps, marched into camp in fine style, despite their sixteen mile’s tramp. Though they may be deemed, by some, to be better fitted to make out diet boards in a hospital ward, than to endure the rigours of a campaign, the Medical Staff Corps always show they have real grit in them, and on that toilsome journey to Kumassi, they marched and endured as well as any of the picked troops in the force.
The next few days they were actively engaged in getting their seven hundred odd native bearers drilled into order. The niggers thoroughly entered into the spirit of the thing, and when once they grasped the different words of command, their movements were very creditable. Hammocks were brought up in good order, the counterfeit wounded picked up, medical store boxes unslung and opened, while spare members repelled the supposed attack. The acting patients were bundled into the litters with scant ceremony, the natives being excited in the heat of the moment, but sharpness of action is required above all things on some occasions, so it could hardly be counted a fault.
A mail reached us at Prahsu, bringing a fresh batch of newspapers. Some of them contained amusing reading on Ashanti subjects. The remarks made in certain quarters were absurd, and some of the personal attacks on Prince Henry, made in especially bad taste, were totally uncalled for. Certainly he ought not to have been indulged in a pleasure picnic at the country's expense; that is if an expedition through the bush, amid endless morass and stinking swamp, in a deadly climate, constitutes a picnic. Prince Henry fared exactly the same as any other officer; he was there as a soldier, not as a prince. He drew the regular Government rations as laid down for every member of the force, and as an old veteran remarked, “There was nothing but bully beef and biscuit one day, and biscuit and bully beef for a change the next, in that ungodly country,” unless you took tinned stuff yourself.
The Staff were hard at work at Prahsu planning out the details of the campaign, which, to sum it up roughly, seemed to require more commissary than strategy. The Ashantis had a far more powerful agent acting for them than their hordes of warriors with Dane guns and shot, and any neglect in looking after the troops would soon give that enemy full play; for the malarious poison present in the very air we breathed, required constant care to defeat.
Sir Francis Scott made an ideal commander, showing untiring energy and determination, but marked with a kindliness of disposition that made him beloved as well as respected by every member of the force - officer, soldier, Houssa, or even the humble carriers who had been brought in contact with him. He was indeed wisely chosen to take command, for he knew the country, the people, and all the requirements for dealing with the climate and its drawbacks. Colonel Kempster, too, was admirably fitted for his duties as Second in Command, and Major Belfield, who worked so hard to complete every arrangement, proved himself to be an officer with tact and discretion. He is one of those hard-working, energetic men whose example infuses fresh life into everything he takes in hand.
Colonel Ward also filled an onerous and most responsible post. Under his direction, and thanks to an efficient staff of supply officers at various stations at the coast and on the road, everything went without a hitch, and nothing was wanting. Surgeon-Colonel Taylor was constantly employed, inspecting the hospitals on the way, testing the drinking water available, and directing by telegraph all the arrangements for the sick on the coast and at various camps up country. Major Victor J. F. Ferguson, the popular Camp Commandant, was also an officer beloved by all ranks. The eldest son of the late Colonel John Ferguson, 2nd Life Guards, he entered the Army in 1884. In 1890, he went in charge of the special mission to King Lobengula, in Matabeleland, and he attained the rank of Major in the Royal Horse Guards, in February, 1895.
Prince Christian Victor is, perhaps, too well known to need describing, but he is a smart officer, highly popular, and noted for his considerate treatment of subordinates. He showed unflagging zeal and energy throughout the march, and frequently pushed forward to the advanced posts with the indefatigable Major Piggott, doing long journeys with little sign of fatigue, and being always to the front if there were dangers scented. The officers ahead with the scouts were also doing excellent work. Major Sinclair, Captain Curtis, and other Engineer officers were cutting a road through the dense forest north of the Prah, building bridges, placing corduroy over impassable swamps, and laying the cable up toward Kwisa. Major Baden-Powell and Captain Graham were pushing on with the scouts, and Major Gordon, late Commandant at Prahsu, to whom the cleanliness and good order of the camp were due, was marching up to form a camp and advance depot at Kwisa on the other side of the Adansi Hills.
On January 3rd, the Special Service Corps marched into Prahsu in splendid condition, under Colonel Stopford. On December 27th an advance party under Major Northcott disembarked and drew all equipment, proceeding to Jaycuma to make things ready. The main body landed next day, and marched at once up country. That first day's march to Jaycuma proved terribly trying to the troops. Numbers fell exhausted by the wayside, and two men succumbed to the heat, Sergeant Arkinstall, Scots Guards, and Corporal Dickeson, Army Service Corps. Physically, these two poor fellows were perfect specimens of manhood, though the latter suffered with his heart, and never ought to have been passed as fit by the Medical Authorities. Yet it is strange that the climate should pick two of the finest men as first victims, before they were five miles in the interior. They were buried in the bush by their sorrowing comrades before the march was continued.
There is something particularly touching in a soldier's funeral at all times, but in the solemn stillness of the forest, amid the haunts of savages, the effect is indescribable. There are the dense masses of vegetation, the roughly excavated grave, that still form sewn in a blanket, the troops drawn up in line, small groups of blacks peering in wonderment through the trees. The burial service is read by the senior officer; the body is carefully lowered; then short words of command, and three ringing volleys in the air, wake up the echoes in the far recesses of the forest; the bugles softly sound the last post, and we leave the quiet form to sleep till the last reveille shall sound.
The Special Service Corps marched up by easy stages to Prahsu, and though many fell by the way during the first few marches, they got more into form afterwards, and scarcely a man fell out. Prince Henry and Captain Larrymore proceeded some distance down the road to meet them, and on arrival, the battalion was drawn up and inspected by Sir Francis Scott, who complimented the men on their appearance.
The West Yorkshire Regiment disembarked from the “Manilla” on December 29th. This fine regiment suffered severely on the first march up country, when over eighty men fell by the way, thoroughly exhausted. The authorities seem to have shown little consideration in selecting this battalion for service in such a climate as the Gold Coast.
The West Yorks had spent many years on Foreign Service in India and Burmah, and they were then moved to Aden; perhaps the worst British station occupied by white troops. They were on their homeward voyage, when instructions were wired out for them to disembark at Gibraltar, to be picked up by the “Manilla” for the Gold Coast. The men were all suffering, more or less, from previously contracted fevers and ague, and their constitutions were so undermined by long sojourn in hot climates, as to be totally unfitted to battle with the trials of West Africa.
The one plea was, that the men would be able to stand the heat better than troops fresh from England, but in the bush the heat is a secondary consideration. Experience shows that the man most likely to brave the malarious climate is he who is sound, organically and physically, and certainly not those whose health is already impaired by wretched climes.
This fine body of troops were only too eager to win fresh laurels, and struggled right manfully to do their duty, but it was at much personal suffering and inconvenience. The first day they fell out like “rotten sheep,” and many an instance came to hand of officers loading themselves with carbines and ammunition, to ease some of their men, who each had to march with seventy rounds of ball cartridge in their pouches, no light weight for those suffering from weeks of knocking about and rough diet on board ship, apart from the previous climatic drawbacks. They marched, however, into Prahsu in capital form after a sixteen-mile tramp, but the yellow, drawn faces, and glittering eyes of many officers and men showed they were still suffering, and thirty had fallen out that day on the road, though many of these afterwards were well enough to rejoin their regiment.
The bakers of the Army Service Corps were pushed forward across the Prah to get their oven up, and thus issue a part ration of bread when the troops advanced. The butchers were also with the troops, but beyond two wretched African sheep, when skinned, little larger than rabbits, there was no fresh meat obtainable.
There was much stir in camp among the men one morning. Going to the door of the hut I was told a spy had been captured. “Oh, a spy, eh?” “Why, yes; a spy! An Ashanti spy, caught lurking in the bush!”
The startling intelligence did not seem very important, as the Ansah princes had got all the information the Ashantis wanted, when they openly passed through our lines, but my informant evidently thought I was mad, or struck dumb by the news, for he again yelled, “A spy, man!” and passed on breathlessly to impart the thrilling tidings.
In the centre of the camp, bound between West Indian soldiers, was the spy. One glance was enough for me to recognise him as the native whom I met so mysteriously in the forest at the last camp; there was the same big hat and strings of charms, and a soldier was carrying his spear. He was a fine fellow, made of very different stuff to the cowardly coast nigger, and was looking round fearlessly, though inwardly ill at ease with all his apparent sang-froid. One Ashanti of that stamp would be far preferable to a dozen of the Fanti men, who, with an air of superiority, inform every white man they meet, “Shantee man, no good, sah! Big coward him, sah!” Give the Ashanti people the same chances our own coast tribes have had, and they would be allies worth having, and reliable authorities seem very sanguine as to the successful result of British rule in Ashanti, when once the bloody rites of fetish are stopped.
It was amusing to see the faces of some of the group, eyeing the captive as if he were a wild beast, and evidently expecting a startling denouement ending in hanging or shooting. There was an audible sigh of relief, or disappointment, when some of the Staff arrived, and Sir Francis, after exchanging a dozen words with the spy, ordered his immediate release. His capture might have divulged some useful information of intentions in Kumassi if they were needed, but as the man was this side of our outposts, it is far more likely he was an Ashanti who had been on a hunting or trading expedition, and was home-ward bound when he found the way blocked by the troops, so was hiding till he could slip through the barrier and reach his own country.
At Prahsu there was an improvised mosque in the Houssa lines, and a Mohammedan priest in attendance. At five every morning the chanting of the Muezzin might regularly be heard; for these splendid allies of ours are devout followers of the great Prophet.
It is a striking fact that on the West Coast of Africa the Mohammedan Negroes are far better than those who profess to have adopted Christianity. The Mohammedan is always polite; he is usually dressed in clean white flowing robes, and he has a certain dignity of character rarely found in the other class. Why this should be so it is difficult to say. The christianised Negro is noted for cheating and lying all the week, and as assiduously singing hymns on Sunday. He has usually received some sort of an education, and knows smatterings of English, and this gives him an advantage over his more ignorant brethren which he is not slow to use. He feels he is a very superior person, and could not demean himself with low work, so starts to live by his wits as much as possible. In their eagerness to prove their usefulness and swell their report, some missionaries are only too ready to induce the Negro to embrace Christianity, and will even go as far as to buy converts at the rate of 5 shillings a head when new members are scarce.