The Old Guard By Ex-Sergeant Venn, C. M. S. C. Ottawa, Canada A veteran's plea for undying recognition of the services of veterans of past wars, with messages of great importance to American subjects. CALVERT-CALHOUN TJ^ggSihi PRINTING COMPANY SEAHLE / Copyrighted by Albert Edward Venn 1917 / )CIA476744 OCT 25 191/ CHAPTER I THE OLD GUARD DIGHT casts her gloom over trench, riven hill and plains of shot-spattered brush and bracken, partly or wholly concealing the broken and mutilated things that the day previous were men in the full enjoyment of health and strength, retreating, advancing, charging and hurrahing, with the joy of battle in their souls, but are now things dead. Twisted and distorted by the pangs of suffering preceding death some features are be- yond recognition, though others are as calm and mobile as those of sleeping infants. A red glare occasionally lightens the sky, followed by a stunning report, as a monster shell explodes ; and following is heard the dead- ly rattling of machine guns, hurling forth their messen- gers of death in the direction of their subtle and strategic foes, close hidden behind barriers of earth, concrete and timber, awaiting the glint of dawn to charge like wolves upon their prey. The bright rays of a morning sun bestow a benedic- tion upon that great field of strife somewhere in France, their warmth relax stiffened and watching forms, weary, dishevelled, and tortured by vermin and battered nerves. Officers and non-coms give orders in a low tone of voice for the making of a speedy breakfast, to be followed by a careful examination of arms, gas helmets and accoutre- ments. They predict a great day, the last day for many, —3— alas, but cheerily they eat, jokingly remark upon each other's grimy, filthy appearance, and manfully quench the doubt of victory or the thought of perhaps never more witnessing the rising of the sun. With brave hope inspired by a sense of duty and of their calling they silently and obediently await the further coming of great events. A distant droning from a great elevation betokens the rapid approach of a winged monster strikingly simi- lar to a great hawk in shape and general appearance. It is an enemy Taube aeroplane driven by an alert, keen- eyed scout, eager to discover a masked battery of ar- tillery or a line of defenses favorable for the launching of an attack by the army of gray green clad warriors stealthily moving forward under cover of woods and hilly ground, their artillerymen at the signal of black powder thrown from the Taube opening fire from their huge howitzers to throw their two hundred pound shells with devastating effect at the object aimed at. The action be- comes general, the long sinuous lines of trench occupied by the allied forces under the command of General belching forth fire and smoke and proj ecting their deadly missiles with fearful effect into the solid blocks of infan- try driven like sheep to the slaughter by their Teuton masters. Groans and shrieks swell the voice of the tumult, blood in small rivulets and streams saturate the earth a short while before devoted to peaceful culture, and men, made in the image of their God and Creator, lie pros- trate in all directions painfully breathing out their souls into His final care and keeping. Boys of tender age with men, veterans of past wars with tunics decorated —4— with ribbons, lie side by side in trench and upon open ground, still clutching with deathly tenacity rifle and revolver. A ragged strip of colored material, a portion of a miniature "Stars and Stripes" hangs loosely from a breast pocket of one youthful khaki-clad warrior. His long, neglected, fair hair is dabbled with crimson as he lies spread eagle wise across the legs of a bearded foe whom he has done to death before receiving the shot that robbed him of his own life. Old and young, strong and weak, sorely wounded and dead strew that dreadful battle ground, each as a sacrifice to the country of his allegiance, his birth and upbringing. Great mines are exploded, filling for a great space the atmosphere with flying debris, scraps of human and animal flesh, to fall into the crater thus formed, and there to remain for all time until the end of all things earthly. In the rear of this scene of conflict men with stretchers hasten to fill the motor ambulances, wagons and carts with suffering forms to be conveyed with all possible speed to field hos- pitals, friend and foe alike to be ministered unto there by gentle, devoted nurses with pitying eyes and gentle hands, noble women and girls working swiftly, skillfully and patiently under the directions of surgeons with cool brains and the intrepid use of glittering instruments, anon which they throw clatteringly upon trays or into basins for immediate sterilization. For their immediate repeated uses are urgently required for the pressing numbers of wounded awaiting their turn to be operated upon. In all stages of suffering these lie around upon pallets of straw, with brave hearts stifling as best they can the inclination to cry aloud or to shriek with the pain they bear. Faces covered with blood, with sightless —5— orbs, limbs rent from their sockets or mashed beyond salvation, bodies scarred and lacerated by shot and shell, these tributes to the savagery and barbaric methods of modern German warfare are to be witnessed in any field hospital at the front in France at the present time. A man or woman of mature understanding and pos- sessing the higher principles of thought and feeling, cannot feel but shame at the reflection of their human constitutions living and moving upon the same plane of existence as that of the instigator of this terrible out- rage, perpetrated upon the face of the Earth in these far advanced days, by such a matchless wicked schemer seek- ing to acquire the right to rule the world. To rule it by the power of militarism aided and governed by kultur — frightfulness. Seeking earnestly to discover the direct methods to conduct warfare to appall even Hell by their bloody, horrible nature. In his dark, restless, forbidding spirit is apparently an inexhaustible supply of the fundamental characteris- tics of an evil abode from whence come the pangs and works of damnable Sin. Were there but an ounce, so to speak, of chivalry in his make-up as a man, a King, a loyal thought for the Almighty he has so daringly outraged, or the slightest portion of regard for nobility and honor, he might be entitled to hope for speedy reconciliation between him- self, his country and the powers that are now so deter- mined to overthrow him. But the fiat of our Allies is that, he and all his kind shall be fully and overwhelm- ingly dogged into submission, then made to pay to the full a severe penalty for their crimes. Wars, certainly, have ever played a leading part in the world's history, —6— being indeed very often necessary for the quenching of savage nations whereby their lands might be acquired to help the progress of civilization. But this present war is quite unnecessary, its instigator's motives for mak- ing it being purely revengeful and jealous. Therefore he must be defeated and dishonored though each of his enemies be brought to subsist on bread alone. Though our treasuries be depleted and we walk in rags we must continue in the work now well commenced to subjugate him once and for all time, to guarantee a lasting grace to the Earth, from the works of such intolerable mili- tarism as he has exercised to fill even his own land with the throes of anguish and despair. Grave indeed is the condition of the land still governed by such a haughty and tempestuous ruler, bringing down upon innocent heads the curses of many nations, even the unborn chil- dren of his realm feeling through their bearers the effects of his disastrous rage and malignant policies. Not a hamlet, village, city or town of his land is void of weep- ing, wailing mothers, wives, sweethearts and old fathers, sorrowing for their dead. The dread of the man's pres- ence causes bowels to shrink, and blood to grow chill. At the mention of his name hearts beat painfully within tender breasts, and lips grow white and dry as from a dreadful drought. Beware you that speak favorably of such being, or harbor hopes and wishes for his suc- cess. For however well hidden your thoughts events re- veal them to your confusion and consternation. Cheer the lads as they cluster at the doors of re- cruiting stations anxiously seeking admittance to enlist to —7— fight such a foe. String "Old Glory" on high with the "Union Jack" and let their folds blend to the sound of trumpet and drum. "Veterans, attention," salute France and her Allies. CHAPTER II "LEST WE FORGET" CHE old dogs of war with dimming eyes scan the perspective of the chase with mingled emotions from out the different circumstances of life, which now for them, so far as chasing and running down their quarries as formerly is of a quiet, hum-drum or passive variety, subject to the laws of time, of decay, and failing energy. The swift, the strong, of former years, occupied by endeavor to wreath with immortal renown the institutions of their fathers by the performance of gallant deeds, wrought under stress of difficulty, in the flooded field and deadly trench, beneath the harsh suns of tropical, fever-haunted climes, or in the frigid, frightful atmos- phere of northern zones, are now placed aside for a younger, stronger generation to keep at bay from their pastures of motherland, the blood-thirsty droves of wolves with blood-glutted jowls, seeking from out of strange lands to rend and devour the weak and strong alike. The trumpet that gathered them for the chase reposes in its bracket, the arms of their masters have grown rusty —8— and their accoutrements moulden. The photograph above the fireplace of that gallant looking boy in the bravely donned uniform taken a short while before the day of terrible Gettysburg, bears no resemblance to its origin, the feeble, white-haired grand-dad querulously chiding a laughing, romping boy for hammering his gouty knees, and making occasional dives to clutch his long, patriar- chal beard so lovingly tended each morning by his hand- some grand-daughter. The cottage in which he sits is prettily situated upon the edge of a small plantation revealing the freshness and tender green of springtime. The bright sun kisses the petals of opening flowers, the kine in rich pastures indulge in gentle lowing as a re- minder of milking time. Nature, in all her loveliness inspires the mind with grateful thoughts of her Creator's love and care for his human children. Grand-dad's favorite arm chair is considerately placed by a friendly neighbor on the small veranda facing the highway. There he sits comfortably clad, and happy in the receipt of a generous pension paid him by a grateful country. Had he no friends or relatives with whom to reside, his residence could become a hos- pitable and comfortable institution, but he is happier and more content in his more private state, in the cottage with those who love and care for him. Thus, week in, week out, he calmly awaits the com- ing of life's end, when he shall be laid to rest in the patch of purchased ground in the village cemetery, by surviving comrades with all the pomp and ceremony at their command. A nation's tributes of respect and ma- terial support for such as he are well deserved. Tens of thousands of emancipated sufferers from the yoke of —9— slavery have given birth to a generation of their color, whom for their present prosperous and much enlightened state are indebted, deeply indebted, to the rank and file of the armies of the Union, unfortunately opposed though these were to armies of their own color and race. We, in our travels in the South especially have viewed with astonishment and great interest the marks of industrial and educational progress made by the colored people. In place of squat, dilapidated shanties, well appointed, comfortable dwelling houses now shelter mere laborers. Larger and more pretentious dwellings are the properties of land-owners, farmers, professors of theology, mathe- matics, arts, the sciences, and superintendents of labor. The latter in many of the towns and cities we visited being now employers of white men, whose forebears con- tributed in forging the manacles and branding irons of a slave cursed epoch, now under the blood shed by its gal- lant veteran emancipators. On occasions we have travel- led by thousands of acres of territory showing the green, luxurious foliage of cotton, corn and roots owned ex- clusively by colored folk. In cities we have visited their great seminaries of learning, up-to-date schoolhouses, colleges, theatres and universities, and wondered. We have visited churches and other places of worship, to wonder more, and be deeply impressed by the learning, the logic, depth of thought and enthusiastic piety of their pulpit orators, reminding us miserably of the want of such serv- ants of the doctrine of the Cross, in very many of our "white" churches and chapels wherein the frigidity of re- ligious feeling reminds one of the cold clamminess of a tomb. In such a comparatively isolated spot as the small town of Beaufort, N. C, we once visited at a convention of —10— colored ministers a small, wooden structure denominated a church, in view of witnessing part of the proceedings. The seat assigned us by a verger wearing large specta- cles, was in a small gallery for "white folks" only, and from there we listened to the most profoundly lucid and powerful sermon of our life, delivered by a brawny negro with hardly a trace of native accent. The effect of his preaching upon the congregation, including ourselves, was electrical. Men and women rose from their seats, shouted and wept, through a state of transportation en- gendered by pure and undeniable piety. We were not pious, neither exact believers in the divinity of Jesus Christ, though tolerant, and markedly impressed by the preacher's attitude and words. Moral suasion, legislation, civil agitation or such eloquent teachers of the curse of slavery as Harriet Beecher Stowe, impute what cause you will to the defi- nite steps taken by Abraham Lincoln to quench slavery in the South, still to effect that purpose nought could have been accomplished without force of arms. War, with its concomitants of suffering, self-denial and blood- shedding was necessary to release the neck of the slave from the yoke of his Confederate masters. Then today, his descendants with the manifold blessings of their risen state, should not forget by whose heroic work and exemplary military achievements those same blessings became theirs. The present turmoil of our existence creating multi- tudinous causes for mental diversion, the strivings of our nations to bring victory to their flags wherever their enemies are operating, or whatever be the nature of the movements to render the past obscure, its veterans must —11— still occupy a predominating position in the memories of their countrymen. The beneficiaries of their vic- torious accomplishments may not be allowed to forget that their works of patriotism urged into action by calls from Heaven largely and eminently contributed towards making possible the safety of America's future — the present — in which she stands to rise or fall, in her war with the Central Powers of Europe. That war has not reached its climax. It may yet be necessary for this continent to call to arms her able veterans to safeguard the keeping of its important gate- ways against the encroachments of a foreign foe. Once, twice, or thrice again as in action at San Juan, Guasimas, Santiago and in the Philippines, the gallant and true Spanish-American war veterans may again storm the breach or charge the hell of a bullet-swept plain, in columns, brigades and divisions, repeating the heroic operations that brought freedom to Cuba, quenched the spirit of Spanish inquisitorial hate, and won for the Philippines the dawn of civilization. In these trials they were found true, in their repose they offer a menacing front to Anarchism and the communisms of partisan well- wishers of a Boche confederation of savage slayers of women and children. This is not meant for a spiteful utterance. The thin excuses of Germany for invading Belgium and then France, and her methods of reprisals upon both coun- tries for their prompt opposition to her piratical, lawless schemes, caused many of their women, old and young, with children to be tortured, assassinated and raped by her soldiery. By resorting to a public library one may be loaned, as we were in the public library of Ottawa, —13— Canada, in the year 1915, a pamphlet entitled, "Bel- gium's Neutrality," issued, but we believe not for whole- sale public distribution, by the Government of P'rance. In it is set forth many testimonies, fully corrobo- rated by witnesses on oath before Belgian and French judges and other administrators of law, as to horrible crimes committed upon the persons of many of their women and young girls in particular, by German soldiers and officers. Each testimony bears the fac-simile of an authentic signature, made in a clear, firm style. So revolting were some details that at first we imputed to them exaggeration, in fact, prevarication. But careful inquiry has elicited us proof of their truth. It still remains for the majority of America's citi- zens to learn how well they are justified in forming stringent measures for the crushing of Germany's guilty powers. This is a task set for all Americans without a single exception to accomplish willingly, devotedly and with knowledge. Not a square inch of American territory above or below its surface may be called neutral for man, woman, boy or girl to occupy to evade service in the present cause of their country. Neutrality, at this present time, of any form, means Treason. To every American citizen of mature growth is assigned a task of some description towards damning the aims and pur- poses of their enemy. All classes of veterans realize this fact, and whether or not able to take up arms for a renewal of activities in the cause of war, by speech, bearing and practical works have set examples for combatants and non-combatants to copy. In spheres of labor, at home, or at camp meet- —13— ings, Spanish-American war veterans aim to charge hearts with the same noble and sacrificial aspirations as caused them to enlist instantly at the call of their country. And we are all comrades. Veterans, com- batants and non-combatants of Canada, the British Isles, and of the States of America, are in honor bound com- pelled to operate individually and collectively in every possible way to crush the enemy within and without their gates. A great international association of vete- rans is called for. This is the time for its inception in hospitable America, whose doors are being besieged by supplicants related to our allied countries, for material aid in their cause against a common enemy. We are supplicating even now with the future un- radiated by even a gleam from Heaven for our guid- ance, for the immediate construction of an international veterans' committee to decide upon ways and means to deal internationally with the affairs of veterans of the past and future. We are not inclined to believe that either the British or American government of the future can devise a satisfactory solution to the difficult problem as to what may satisfactorily be done by their surviving soldiers of the present war towards affording them means of recompense by labor or pension grants, to leave veterans of past wars satisfied; or disinclined to strive for equal recognition. To give more or less to one than to the other is to cause dissention and other disagreeable forms of disturbance to retard preparations for confronting and overcoming the many civil, religious, labor and other perils as will surely be in attendance upon each govern- ment's methods of readjustment for future national progress. In any case, we veterans of the past, must —14— adopt the term "preparedness" as the keynote to all our future plans and purposes. We say or do nothing at this present time to lend the slightest color of disloyalty to our proceedings, though resolute in our determination not to permit repetitions of the policy of neglect so ardently exercised in the past upon British soil to the detriment of British veterans. Starvation, beggary and unemployment. Such evils were the curse of tens of thousands of veterans in the British Isles before this present war. Homeless and penniless the aged were driven to seek the suspicious hospitality of asylum and workhouse in which to end their days, forgotten and forsaken. Afterwards, a pauper's grave was their last resting place; a pawnshop the sole inheritance of their decorations. Their medals won at Balaclava, and in the snowy trenches before Sebastapol, with other medals and crosses symbolic of valor and intrepid conduct in the field, were therein exposed for sale. The ghosts of memory are hard to expunge though we fight them valiantly to remain true to our country's flag. Yea, though beaten and despised we have turned and licked the garments of our master, once more donned his uniform to prevent his enemy eating him up. We have been compelled to emigrate to a foreign country to earn our bread, in one, subject to our monarch, our past military services were depre- ciated, our decorations smirched by an element of slack- ers and treasonable mal-contents. But through it all we have remained true to our country. We speak not in self-praise, rather to throw into bolder relief the marked attitudes of able-bodied men seeking to evade service by the making of paltry excuses, —15— or because of rancor against the flag they have never tried to serve, though beneath its folds enjoying prosper- ity and safety — at the expense of the man at the front. The first contingents of Canada's army for overseas work comprised not less than eighty-two per cent of British emigrants, many of them old soldiers of the South African and Egyptian compaigns who, for very love of motherland, forgave her share in contributing to the causes of their exile, by thus marching forth to needs die for her. Noble work, noble self-abnegated consistency of thought and action towards an ungrateful parent, whose paps, though full to bursting with rich sustenance, denied them suckle. Out of her vast treas- uries that enabled her to spend nearly forty million dol- lars daily in the purchase of war supplies, and the making of munitions for the present, she could not see her way clear to reward even her disabled veterans with even a third part of the amount of pension paid to a Civil or Spanish-American war veteran. Not to shame her do we write thus at this particular moment when the eyes of her enemy still seek excuses for his wrongdoings towards her, but to create a proper basis upon which to build a memorial of wrong for her future warning, on behalf of those that shall presently be returned to civil life within her, and her possessions overseas. Britain's sons will fight not the less better or perse- veringly because of our words, but while they fight we will help prepare their future against the evils of our past state as a veteran in the land, their land, of our birth. By and through public and veteran interest in —16— the United States of America we sincerely hope to suc- ceed in doing this. Our means for our attempt are small^ ridicuously so ; our educational advantages less. We are neither sup- ported financially or represented by any society or union. Our pen, as the reader may easily observe, lacks the skill of a ready writer. We live (when not on strike) by the patronage of a union card. We are strange to this hustling, bustling city, inasmuch that we feel even in its busiest centers as much isolated as a modern Robinson Crusoe. We cannot after meals as may the rich in palatial hotels pick our teeth with the nonchalence and comfort due to the fact of our snug bank account. We have not a past worth mentioning, but a tolerable future. The goal we aim to reach is hearts, sympathetically, lovingly beating in unison with the thoughts of its great life-giver. You may surmise that we are not atheistical, but neither are we religious to the extent of forming one of a sect to commercialize the name of God or disgrace it by pretense. We love a good person, but a fakir of matters re- ligious we dub a bigger, more dangerous varlet than the chief Boche. We are hoping to observe very soon joint action adopted by the city's police authorities for . the suppression of such sly traitors to our great war cause. Their oily, suave denunciations in the name of the "Lord" of its wickedness are edifying only to those who desire our Allies defeated. But such as he are not to be classed with the many Christians devoted to good works, including service for their country at home and in the zones of war. We have in mind the many honor rolls displayed in churches we —17— have visited lately in America and Canada, of clean, smart lads who have perished in the field or have been returned from thence wounded and mutilated. The war operations of the Y. M. C. A. richly deserve a nation's special vote of thanks for its untiring and sacrificial efforts to contribute to the physical and mental welfare of our Allied forces, very often at the hazard of the lives of its civilian servants. We shall rely upon such good people for backing in our endeavors to pre-emi- nently sustain the claims of veterans for more distinct recognition and to acquire them a safe future. CHAPTER III. "COMRADES, SALUTE YOUR DEAD." 'HIS chapter is dedicated to a recount of our ser- vice in Egypt and the Soudan, at the present time occupied by gallant Anzacs and other allied units operat- ing against Germans and Turks. Our object in insinuating this narrative in the folds of our small work, is merely to enlighten the reader as to the legitimacy of our claims for American mediation on behalf of others like ourselves, bereft in the evening of their days of national support of any kind. Many racked and tortured similarly at intervals by physical ills, the sole reward for a terrible four years term of ser- vice in the then pestilence haunted land of the Pharoahs. We write for one and all. The points in our narrative deemed worthy of the reader's consideration must be — 1&— accepted as evidence of our desire to see promoted for all veterans a complete and lasting international fellow- ship, with a pension scheme to benefit such deserving veterans as I describe. In the spring of the year 1883, dreadful cholera broke out in the City of Cairo, and investing cabin, hut, palace, and barrack, slew many. At the time of its first outbreak our corps, the left half battalion of the Sussex Regiment, was stationed at Abbasyieh, formerly Old Cairo, in barracks situated upon the borders of the Libyan Desert. There beneath its barren wastes were buried in shallow graves haunted by wild dogs, coyotes of Egypt, hundreds of native victims of the dread disease. Just prior to its outbreak whilst maneuvering under the command of Gen. Sir Evelyn Wood, our corps charged into the very centre of a hugh pit containing thousands of bleached human skeletons. The crunching of the bones conveyed to our mind a message of Egypt's apathy and coldness in regard to Death. The average native man and woman with the dread cholera stalking their movements daily and hourly, and lurking within their tenebrous filthy hovels and houses, behaved as if the high revels of Death before them were mere common place phases and occurrences in their habitually dirty, degenerate every day lives. They appeared to possess neither voice nor desire for an epoch that might see their heathenish land freed of its curse of filth, the paramount cause of cholera. They lived and died like the dogs of their deserts, and evil looking buzzards of their burning skies. But through the blood and suffer- ings of veterans, were they redeemed. Dead comrades, victims of the cholera, were buried —19— generally under, cover of darkness, a swinging lantern carried by an officer guiding the steps of the small mournful cortege wending its way towards the hallowed spot selected for interment. The Thing the cortege guarded and conveyed was hidden from view by a blanket, its only shroud in which it was buried. Greater funeral pomp and majesty in the safe environments of city or town, could not convey to the mind a more solemn, impressive lesson than that object of our grief laid to rest in the gloom and silence of a sterile waste in a grave unmarked by monument or tablet. * * * * * * * * * * Almost within the shadows cast forth by those stupendous, and mysterious objects of human creation, the Pyramids, Gizeh in our day formed an oasis chiefly comprised of date and cabbage palms, covering a some- what extensive area verging in one direction upon the Mahmondieh Canal, which gathering its momentum from the flowing waters of the Delta, ramified through a por- tion of Lower Egypt, to finally blend with the waters of the Bitter Lakes. The heterogenous collection of ancient landmarks, stone slabs, idols, and the Pyramids afforded us little interest. The period of our sojourn at Gizeh filled as it was with sickness and woe, was not conducive to the study of Egyptology, nor rendered us amenable to a longer detention in Egypt than was absolutely neces- sary. The medical means intended for the alleviation of our physical ills were of the crudest order, a "num- ber 9" pill, hugh, black, and nasty covering the whole sphere of our quacks perspective. "You my bhoy" (he was an Irishman), he would exclaim to a poor, thin, —20— cadaverous looking soldier, "are loafing by G ," "Orderly, a 'number 9' for him." To another on the verge of the grave he would say, "An' you my bhoy are very sick. Orderly, a 'number 9' for him." But it needed more than a "number 9" to infuse new life and blood into the majority of our corps, slowly but surely perishing through the insidious advances made upon their constitutions by dysentery, diarrhoea, and enteric fever, though none but those in the last stages of these epidemics were admitted to the marquee termed hos- pital, wherein they soon breathed their last. It has been reported that in 1883-4 in the Cairo district alone, more than four thousand British troops died from the epidemics we have named. Some sacrifice of lives for a country that every civilized nation but Britain had not deemed worth its while to meddle with. Were we to possess the pen of a ready writer with his skill for picturing details as vividly as the mind of a reader might desire, we should still lamentably fail to impart to it a proper understanding of the situation of the Sussex at Gizeh. At times when meditating upon the scenes enacted there, the shrill, mournful pipings of a Highlander's band accompanying the solemn marches of many a funeral party is brought to memory from the past. Their solemn tramping behind the gun carriage bearing away the mortal remains of a comrade to us is an oft repeated reminder that our debt to him is still unpaid. ********** The scene changes. The early summer of 1884 saw the Sussex and other corps busily engaged in load- ing native boats, nuggers, for their advance up the Nile. —21— The life of General Charles George Gordon was in peril of death upon the Isle of Khartoum, situated at the confluence of the Blue and White Nile. Savage hordes of dervishes commanded by their Mahdi had invested the city's walls to massacre its in- habitants. Urgent appeals for succour had been sent forth by that lone, g^ey minister of peace and soldier, Gordon the Good. Day and night upon the walls of his besieged habitat he earnestly scanned the wastes of sand about him and the silvery Nile for evidence of approaching relief, in the form of men of his color, cheering, — and victorious. Alas for the relief that came too late. An idling crowd of Arabs, Soudanese, Nubians, Egyptians, Greeks and Turks watched our efforts to embark with particular interest, for not a few were Mahdists willing at any moment to cut our throats. There stood Ben Ali, clothed in pure white with feet cased in yellow slippers, and with head adorned by a white and red turban, watching all things with crafty eyes. At his elbow stood Mahmoud very still, but also watching with snake like eyes that anon turned green as he interpreted the meanings of some of the jokes made by our men at the expense of the nuggers' crews. He and Ben Ali were emissaries of the Mahdi at Khor- dofan to which place they were hastening immediately after our embarkation. Groups of officers stood here and there, conversing or shouting orders for greater speed, for the afternoon was well advanced, and the nuggers before sun-down must be well out upon the bosom of the river. All is ready; buglers sound the "advance" the blaring noise galvanizing into action the —22— native captain and crew of each nugger; and then with much groaning, shouting, and swearing sails are set taut, the anchors belayed, and a small steamboat at- taches its hawser to the prow of the first nugger of the fleet to aid its progress for about fifty miles. Soon we are gliding along through the Delta leav- ing astern Gizeh with its dead, the Pyramids, and all else familiar with our past occupation of Lower Egypt. With the decline of the sun the steamer drew inboard its hawser, leaving our fleet to meander along through the fast falling darkness by the favor of desert winds, which being cool and pleasant afforded compensation to our wearied, heated forms for what they had so lately suffered from in the nature of labor. The occasional cheep of a nocturnal bird, the creaking of a water wheel, or the long-drawn cry of a village watchman were the only sounds that came towards us from the land we were close hugging upon our starboard bow. We made pro- gress as it seemed to us, in the midst of a vast sepulchre ; the darkness lending wierd and fantastic shapes to things but dimly seen and creating thoughts of a spiritual world, strange, haunting, tortuous, and terrible. Things mobile and natural looking in daylight in that dense Egyptian darkness seemed to advance and recede with muffled, stealthy tread, to threaten, and to beckon with ghostly fingers in the direction of that lone isle of the Blue and White Nile, dread post of anguish and care to that noble heart now still in death. There were feelings in the breasts of those we conversed with that our mission would end in failure; that General Gordon would receive his assistance too late, though not upon the dangers and difficulties of our enterprise were —33— we counting for this to happen as by the certainty of the length of time it would take to organize a sufficient force of supplies and men to penetrate the hostile reservations of the Mahdi. The disorganized state of the army at Cairo and the sickness which had devastated its ranks leaving it totally unfit to meet the trials of war in such a barren^ trying region as the Soudan, made us appre- hensive of the results of the campaign. Beyond pos- sessing rifles and bayonets, we lacked everything else to make a defense in any probable encounter with the enemy. We pitched camp in the month of July, 1884, at a place called Mangobat, and six weeks afterwards with still no signs of reinforcements proceeded by slow stages as formerly in nuggers, to Assouan. The daily pictures of domestic and agricultural life that we were able to observe as we glided along up river promised no departure from that of a thousand years ago. The same form of plough, of hoe, or of rake with the same means of draughting by the aid of buffalos or small bulls were then, as in the time of the Pharoahs, in existence. A pointed stick with the adjustment of two spreading handles formed a plough ; a hoe was made from wood or flint. Still the results from such primitive modes of tillage were generally prolific, due in a great measure to the richness of the silt or mud deposits ac- cruing from the periodical rising and fall of the Nile waters, which are always safe to drink, always cool. Our negotiation of the cataracts above Assouan was a feat formerly thought impossible to accomplish. Vast ramparts of deep brown rocks with points and pinnacles innumerable, resisted the roaring waters, which, as we —24— were nearing the month of August, had them well sub- merged. From above the third cataract to Dongola we enjoyed smooth sailings but were commencing to suffer from some form of eye complaint that at times imparted feelings of great discomfort and misery. Also we were in the zone of smallpox with which some of our men began to be afflicted. As we approached Dongola, the figure of Major, afterwards Lord Kitchener was seen awaiting our ar- rival. A drawn revolver was in his right hand which we inferred was intended as a threat to quiet some dis- turbance connected with his Bashibazoucs, a wild unruly crowd of insurgents whom he commanded then for scout- ing purposes. He left Dongola soon after our arrival disguised as a chief of the Khababish tribe, with his party, going in the direction of Khorti. At Dongola we fortified our position with all the means at hand, to await the neucleus of the expeditionary force commanded by Lord Wolsely. The first of these to arrive in so called Yarrow boats constructed in Eng- land, were members of the Royal Horse Guards com- manded by Colonel Fred Burnaby, and a naval brigade commanded by Lord Charles Beresford. Following these came shortly afterwards by land mounted on camels and small Arab horses, four squadrons of the 19th Hussars, and a detachment of Mounted Infantry. With other units including the 4'2nd Black Watch, the 38th South Staffordshires, and portions of the Rifle Brigade, the total strength of the Nile Expeditionary Force at Don- gola, intended for the capture of Khartoum to effect the salvation of General Gordon, comprised not more than fifteen hundred men, armed chiefly with only small —25— weapons, excepting the Naval Brigade in the possession of four nine pounder guns. At Khorti this force was to be divided into two columns to follow two different routes to effect if pos- sible a conjunction at Shendy below Khartoum. One column under the command of General Earle was to follow the route of the river, and the second with General Sir Herbert Stewart as its commander was to cross the Bayuda Desert. Of this column our corps comprised a part. Quite a month was spent at Khorti before we com- pleted our preparations for a final advance upon the enemy. Six months having elapsed since the Sussex first prepared themselves for their journey at Cairo — six months of constant delays, queryings, debates, and hard work, and Christmas Eve in the year 1884 had arrived. On this momentous occasion, a rude platform or stage had been improvised from empty biscuit boxes for the display of the combined talents, vaudeville and vocal of our men. The artists with the small means at their disposal, outdid themselves in the matter of songs, dances and recitations. A young lieutenant after a final slap upon the strings of an ancient banjo, drew the back of his hand across his mouth as an expressive sign of his thirstiness. Enough. Our teetotal commander-in-chief. Lord Wolse- ly with unexpected generosity ordered the broaching of a small cask of rum. Shocking depravity. Then with canteens held aloft at a certain angle to enable us to see the liquor we drank to the health of Victoria the Good. Three cheers were given for his lordship, three hearty —26— cheers as an encouragement for the second ordering of a cask of rum, but alas, without effect. Thus was the last Christmas Eve for many spent in that oasis at Khorti, a thousand miles from Cairo. At 10 P. M. the camp sank into a silence broken only by the low pitched challenges of the sentries, the groans of camels, and the splashings of sportive crocodiles in the river hard by. We slept, and dreamed of home and Christmas pudding until awakened by a bugle sounding the reveille. By January 1st the whole of the force was ready for their separate journeys, and were formed up en- masse to receive the final instruction of the commander- in-chief. Afterwards General Earle with his column saluted and took up the line of march for Kirbekan, there to meet with disaster. The Bayuda column headed by Lord Wolsely and a distinguished staff set forth upon its hazardous journey in the midst of dense clouds of dust, and accompanied by a terrible medley of noises occasioned by roaring, furious camels, kicking horses, and clanking accoutrements. Things, however, soon as- sumed a more orderly aspect, our accoutrements we muffled, and the column settled down to a regular pace. For twenty miles it forged ahead over fairly level and hard ground before being halted by Lord Wolsely, who was to bid it adieu. In a neat speech "my Lord" informed us of the onerous duties awaiting him at Cairo, and on their account regretted his inability to accompany us further. On his retirement we resumed our march until nightfall, when we bivouached to wait for the rising of the moon. In such a manner for four days we progressed un- opposed towards Gakdul, the place of wells. The jour- —27— ney so far had been fraught with much suffering to man and beast; of the latter only the horses being allowed to drink, (two gallons of water every twenty-four was their only allowance) a drove of small bullocks intended for our consumption staggering along with lolling, pro- jected tongues black with thirst, imploring with dumb, beseeching looks for the water denied them. With the sun's heat one hundred and twelve degrees in the shade our men on their allowance of two pints of water every twenty-four hours, suffered extremely. Our inflamed and heated tonsils and swollen mouths suffered more because of our desert inexperience, and by the repeated shocks dealt our systems by sickness at Cairo. But relief came at last; the range of hills marking the place of Gakdul with its hidden wells loomed into sight. The flash of a heliograph apprised the column of the success of Major Kitchener in finding the wells unpoisoned and void of an enemy's presence. Heartily we blessed that veteran as his message flashed forth in our direction, reading, "all's well." The battle of Abu Klea was fought by British soldiers in hollow square upon the 16th day of January, 1885, about eight miles from Abu Kru where we first met and were completely surrounded by savage, merciless dervishes. Behold, then, that minute square of men as it thus stood at 1 P. M. on that memorable and honour- able day of January, 1885, a small, ragged host who were bound to win or be massacred to a man and mutilated in the same manner as was the army of Egyp- tians commanded by Hicks Pasha in 1883 approaching Suakin. The rifles of the weakest of our youngsters —28— are gripped with a giant's strength. Blue jackets sup- port their poor artillery with bared arms, drawn cut- lasses and revolvers, with their commander smiling en- couragement, and occupying an advantageous position to direct and control them. Sir Herbert Stewart is seated on horseback in the centre of the square over- looking the lair of the enemy, a grassy hollow about five hundred yards away. The foe in the hills at our rear become silent. Their power is to be represented by a yelling, savage mob, the priests of their Mahdi. So they watch interested in spite of their venom, for the issue of the clashing together of two human forces — one, British, disciplined and civilized; the other, barbaric and murderous. Following a revelation of flags and banners from the mentioned hollow, came a long drawn yell from two thousand bronze throats, and then out of this sprang the enemy ! "Fire ! and the left front of our square poured into that mass of savages a volley with such deadly accuracy that a lane was opened up through their midst, covering the desert with writhing, twisting forms. Noth- ing daunted, the remainder charged onwards, led by their yelling, mounted chiefs, and throwing themselves upon the square with deadly impetuosity, broke the ranks of the guards. How these fought to reform. Like demons, with clubbed rifles, fists, and bayonets they remedied their misfortune and closed up, though leaving bereft and unsupported beyond their ranks gallant Col- onel Fred Burnaby. Completely surrounded by der- vishes he fought valourously with a tooth pick of a sword as his only weapon until his jugular vein was pierced by a spear and he fell smothered by his enemies. —29— Yelling, struggling, and thrusting with spear and sword the dervishes surrounded the square with deadly intent, but all to no purpose, though our living stood upon the dead in all ranks, with the breech blocks of their rifles jammed and useless, and bayonets bent. The Naval Brigade — gallant men — performed wonders until the explosion of the last shell, dying in dozens cursing, and smashing with bare fists the faces of their evil foe. Some of the camels in the square broke their bonds and becoming rampant, shed their loads and furniture, which by some means becoming ignited, caught in their fire some of our dead, and the stench of their burning per- meated the atmosphere already intolerable from rifle smoke, sweat, and steaming blood. At last the dervishes were pressed back, repulsed, and sent flying headlong into the path of the now charging two squadrons of Hussars, who before had watched the battle inactive from the apex of a low hill two hundred yards from the square. By the deadly play of their sabres and car- bines they consummated our victory, leaving us to bury our dead, and succour the wounded. The retreat of the dervishes in the plain caused their brethren in the hills to fall back on Metemmeh, which place contains the secret of General Gordon's betrayal. Our retreat from there in the month of March, 1885, proclaimed the failure of our mission. The veteran of Khartoum waited and watched for us in vain, but through his great sacrifice, and ours, Egypt today is clean, orderly, and well governed. For service in the Soudan, in addition to the medal our corps had been awarded for the Egyptian affair of —30— 1882, it was awarded a clasp for the ascension of the Nile and another for the battle of Abu-Klea. As bounty it was rewarded, as were the residue of the rank and file of the Nile Expeditionary Force, £,5 in gold or about $24.25. As Wm. G. McAdoo, Secretary of the Treasury, said: "Shall we be more tender with our dollars than with the lives of our sons?" LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 020 662 052 3