At the outbreak of hostilities the British force available to resist attack was ridiculously meagre, numbering, it is computed, not more than 600 men, scattered over several stations.
At home, the Government was slow to act, and not until repeated application had been made for white troops was the appeal given heed to.
That renowned soldier Sir Garnet Wolseley was commissioned to operate against the Ashantees. The announcement gave great satisfaction. If the spirit of the wild tribe was to be crushed, it was felt that Sir Garnet was the man to do it. But his task was no light one, and without white troops the issue was doubly doubtful.
His instructions, briefly, were to drive the Ashantees back over the Prah, then to follow and punish them until they should consent to be peaceful, should release their prisoners, and comply with terms necessary to our own interests and those of humanity.
The deadly nature of the coast, “the white man’s grave,” was doubtless a potent factor with the Government in that they did not immediately acquiesce with Sir Garnet’s request for white troops. But, as we know, the Government at last acceded, and the regiments selected for service in that disease-pregnated country have added lustre to their fame and also another page of glorious history to the story of the pluck and endurance of Britain’s soldiers. The total number of troops under the command of Sir Garnet Wolseley being made up of Colonel Wood’s native regiment of 400 men, Major Russell’s native regiment of 400, the 42nd Highlanders (Black Watch) 575 strong, the Rifle Brigade 650, 75 men of the 23rd Fusiliers, Royal Naval Brigade 225, 2nd West India Regiment 350, Royal Engineers 40, and Rait’s artillery 50.
About the end of October, 1873, Sir Garnet Wolseley began his forward march into the interior. There was fighting to be done ere long, for the enemy made an attempt to arrest the progress of the troops by besieging Abrakrampa, the chief town of the province of Abra, of which the native king was Britain’s staunch ally. A three days’ ineffectual leaguer ensued, during which the Ashantees lost heavily, while not so much as one white man was injured. With Sir Garnet close behind, the Ashantees thought it best to recross the Prah and retreat towards Coomassie.
Through the dense bush the troops marched in the garish and dazzling sunlight, and at the end of their daily tramp through the hostile country they were glad to lie down and rest in the huts provided for them. In the way of rations the men were well looked after by the commissariat department, the fare being as follows:—One and a half pounds of meat, salt or fresh, one pound of pressed meat, one and a quarter pounds of biscuits, four ounces of pressed vegetables, two ounces of rice or preserved peas, three ounces of sugar, three-quarters of an ounce of tea, half an ounce of salt, one-thirteenth of an ounce of pepper. With such substantial and varied feeding the hardships of the march were minimised and weakness was rare—another striking illustration of the truth of the maxim of the great Napoleon that “an army goes upon its belly.”
The further the British force progressed, denser and loftier grew the forest, although the Engineers with unflagging energy had cleared a pathway as far as the Prah. On the 15th December, 1873, Sir Garnet Wolseley was able to report “the first phase of the war had been brought to a satisfactory conclusion by a few companies of the 2nd West India regiment, Rait’s artillery, Gordon’s Houssas, and Wood’s and Russell’s regiments, admirably conducted by the British officers belonging to them, without the assistance of any other troops except the marines and blue-jackets who were upon the station on his arrival.”
Sir Garnet arrived at Prashu on the 2nd January, 1874, and was joyfully received by the assembled soldiers. Early in the same morning an Ashantee embassy was espied on the other side of the Prah. These ambassadors brought a letter from the truculent King Koffee, in which the wily savage had the audacity to point out that the attack upon him was unjustifiable.
The “Times” correspondent wrote that “many stories were afloat about the King of Ashantee’s proceedings. The following is a fair specimen, and illustrates well the extreme superstition of the Ashantees, showing by what influences Koffee is popularly supposed to be guided, and upon what councillors he is supposed to rely in the present crisis. Koffee, the story goes, recently summoned a great meeting of his fetish men, and sought their advice as to how he should act towards Britain, and whether he ought to seek for peace or stake his fortunes on the result of a war. The fetish men at first declined to give an answer, until they had been guaranteed that, no matter what their reply was, their lives should not be forfeited. Having been assured upon this point, they then replied that ‘they saw everything dark, except the streets of Coomassie, which ran with blood.’ King Koffee was dissatisfied with the vagueness of this reply, and determined to appeal still further to the oracle. He resorted to what he considered a final and conclusive test. Two he-goats were selected, one entirely black, the other of a spotless white colour, and, after due fetish ceremonies had been performed over the two goats, they were set at each other. The white goat easily overcame and killed his opponent. King Koffee, after this test, was satisfied that he was doomed to defeat at the hands of the white men.”