The victory was complete, but no time was lost in taking advantage of the flight and utter disorganisation of the enemy. Sir Herbert McPherson's force, strengthened by a battery of artillery, marched at once along the line of railway to Zagazig, and, arriving during the afternoon, captured several trains and locomotives, the Egyptian soldiers bolting without firing a shot. The movements of the cavalry division are graphically described in Sir Garnet Wolseley's despatch: 'Major General Lowe was ordered to push on with all possible speed to Cairo.... These orders were ably carried out, General Lowe reaching the great barracks of Abbassich just outside Cairo, at 4.45 P.M. on the 14th instant. The cavalry marched 65 miles in these two days. The garrison of about 10,000 men, summoned by Lieutenant Colonel H. Stewart to surrender, laid down their arms, and our troops took possession of the citadel. A message was sent to Arabi Pasha calling upon him to surrender forthwith, which he did unconditionally. He was accompanied by Toulba Pasha, who was also one of the leading rebels in arms against the Khedive.'

The divisions of General McPherson and Drury Lowe having thus been despatched to Zagazig and Cairo, the head quarter staff and remainder of the army rested for the day on the field of Tel-el-Kebir, awaiting the final dénouement. In fact, the result of the battle of the 13th and the flight of the Egyptian forces became known by telegraph throughout the country in the course of a few hours, and the war came to a sudden termination. The medical arrangements at Tel-el-Kebir were admirably carried out. As soon as the position had been taken, large marquees were erected close to the fresh-water canal, and our wounded officers and men, having been attended to, were then conveyed in covered barges to Ismailia; thus avoiding a long rough journey in carts across the sandy desert. Late in the afternoon, I rode along the captured entrenchments, the ground being covered with dead and wounded Egyptians—the latter faint and helpless, and praying for water. Parties of our men had been sent out during the day with carts of provisions and barrels of water, and did all in their power to mitigate the sufferings of these poor creatures. Thousands of muskets and vast quantities of ammunition lying about were broken up, and then buried.

On the afternoon of the 14th the head quarter staff, accompanied by the Duke of Connaught and Prince Teck, with a part of the Brigade of Guards, left the field of battle by rail for Zagazig; but the line was a single one and in disorder, so that we were constantly delayed, and did not arrive till 9 o'clock P.M. Our baggage animals were wandering about somewhere in the desert, and none of us had even a change of clothes; and, with the exception of a tin of meat, a few biscuits, and bottle of claret—fortunately brought by the Duke of Connaught, who kindly shared his scanty supplies with us—we had no food. Our troops of all arms were marching along the line of railway, and once, when we were detained, a weary gunner passed the carriage, and on being asked where he was going replied, 'To Zig-zag.' Two other gunners had captured a dromedary, and were riding along in high spirits. The inhabitants of the villages as we passed through the cultivated country came out and salaamed, and seemed quite happy. They had stuck poles with white rags flying on the tops of their houses in token of surrender. Altogether it was an interesting and amusing scene. I slept that night on the railway platform at Zagazig, surrounded by myriads of flies. However, these were the last of our hardships, if such they can be called; and on the following morning we arrived by train at Cairo, and were cordially received; in fact, the whole population had turned out in the streets to give us welcome. Every English soldier walking about was followed by an admiring crowd. The Khedive, telegraphing from Alexandria, placed the Abdin Palace at the disposal of the staff and begged us to consider ourselves as his guests. From a small tent in the desert to a royal palace in two days—with a battle in the interval—was certainly an unusual but welcome change of scene. There was, however, one drawback. Although the Abdin Palace contained suites of handsome state apartments, gorgeous in satin and gold, there were no bed-rooms! Whether rulers in Egypt never sleep, or whatever the explanation, we had to make the best of it, and I took possession of one large state room; but my little camp-bed looked very shabby and insignificant amidst such splendid surroundings. There were upwards of 100 wax candles in glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

As several thousand Egyptian soldiers were still in arms on our arrival at Cairo, many of them in a large barrack just opposite the palace, an order was sent over that they were to give up their muskets and were then free to return to their homes. Hardly had the order been received than it was acted on, and crowds of them, divested of their uniforms, were seen running as if for their lives, and in a few minutes the barrack was deserted. I inquired the reason of their extreme haste, and was informed that the news was so good they could hardly believe it to be true, and were afraid we might change our minds and detain them. The incident I have mentioned affords a good indication of the real feeling of the inhabitants, who were not anxious to fight anybody, but rather to be allowed to return and live in peace in their native villages. Egypt is probably not the only country in which these sentiments largely prevail, but do not always find expression.

In the prison within the citadel we found a large number of people in chains; criminals, political prisoners, even Arab women and children, and two English subjects (Maltese) all jumbled together, ill-treated, and nearly starved. Separating the real criminals, after inquiry, the remainder were set free, and by way of a change the jailor was placed in one of the cells.

In some small rooms in a corner of the great barrack, in Abdin Square, Arabi and Toulba Pashas were confined as prisoners, with an English guard over them. As there were several passages and staircases about the place, with Arab servants and others constantly going to and fro, and as, to an English sentry, one native is very like another, there seemed a possibility of Arabi's attempting to escape. So, under pretext of calling to inquire as to his health (for he had been unwell), I paid him a visit, with an interpreter, in order to inspect the premises. Arabi came up and shook hands, and, on my asking if he were better, he replied that now I had come to see him he was quite well—which was encouraging. Then he went on to say that the English were famous for their love of freedom, of liberty, and of justice, and that, relying on our honour, he had surrendered unconditionally. He seemed inclined to enter into a discussion, so I replied that no doubt his case would receive careful consideration and justice from the British Government. He did not strike me as a man of much education or intelligence. Subsequently, Colonel Thynne, Grenadier Guards, was specially appointed to take charge of him.[127]

Although during the short period of active operations our troops had enjoyed excellent health, notwithstanding the heat and the occasional hardships they had undergone, soon after their arrival at Cairo considerable numbers were struck down by fever and dysentery; probably attributable to the bad water in the canal at Kassassin, and partly to the insanitary condition of Cairo itself. Acting on advice, large numbers of the sick were conveyed by rail to Alexandria, embarked for home, and speedily recovered at sea.

Without wishing to exaggerate the events of the campaign, I think it will be admitted that the difficult arrangements connected with the embarkation of our troops were carefully carried out; and that the expedition was conducted with great promptitude and success. These results testify to the efficiency of the naval and military administration at home, and also to the courage and discipline of the two services under somewhat trying circumstances. From a financial point of view, the rapidity of the operations enabled us on arrival at Cairo at once largely to reduce expenditure, by cancelling contracts for food, forage, transport animals, and stores at various ports in the Mediterranean. So sudden, indeed, was the transition from war to peace, and so completely had the insurrection collapsed, that in the course of a few weeks a large proportion of our forces were withdrawn from the country and returned to England. The campaign being at an end, I left Egypt early in October in order to resume my duties as Surveyor General in the War Office; but before embarking had a farewell audience with the Khedive, Ibrahim Tew-fik. I had had interviews with him on one or two occasions previously. He was quiet and friendly in manner, and apparently of a gentle disposition; was cordial in his recognition of the good services rendered to him by the British forces. I said I hoped that the conduct of our men since their arrival at Cairo had been satisfactory, and he at once expressed his admiration of their good discipline, and remarked that in every respect, whether in the streets or in the bazaars, their conduct had been most orderly. What vexed him was that some of his people in the bazaars cheated our men, and demanded extravagant prices for their goods. I assured him, however, that he need not worry himself on that point, as the English soldiers would readily discover the market value, and matters would soon find their level; and that they enjoyed their visit to Cairo.

Statements were current at the time that the Khedive was not really loyal to England. On this being brought to his notice, it is said, and I believe truly, that he observed: "Not loyal to the English? When my country was in insurrection and my authority and life in danger, there was only one power in Europe which would move a finger to help me—and that was England. If I am not faithful to them it would be strange indeed!"