When I find myself at a loss about how to next proceed in my reading, I look to one of the Flashman novels to divert me, though sometimes I withhold from myself the pleasure... I’ve been going slowly through the 12-volume series over the past six years, husbanding them with care, doling them out as if they were a non-renewable resource. There’s always an abundance of humor and good (well-researched) history in these novels, and the Zelig-like appearance of Flashman at the center of these events is especially entertaining, as he is perhaps the worst possible “hero” to have garnered so many laurels.
The “official” record of the Expedition to Abyssinia in 1868 does not include mention of Sir Harry Flashman, for several reasons (ignoring the fact that he’s a fictional character). First, Flashman’s participation came about serendipitously, and his name never made any official manifest from England. Second, his mission, once attached to General Sir Robert Napier’s forces, was covert. Third, it was presumed by Napier and his second in command that Flashman had killed King Theodore, which regicide would not be condoned by Her Majesty (hence, the story was circulated that Theodore had killed himself).
From a historical perspective, the “Expedition” was small potatoes, a mission to rescue some British and other Europeans held captive by King Theodore for nearly two years. And despite being only a rescue mission, Napier’s forces were embedded with a notable coterie of international correspondents, including Henry Stanley. The whole affair came about because Theodore felt himself insulted by the Queen and the British Home Office, for when he sent a letter requesting help in 1865, he never received a response. In the midst of a largely Muslim population, Theodore was a Christian ruler, and he assumed that the British (and other Europeans) would help him ensure his sovereignty against rival Muslim contenders. Instead, out of pique and some sense that he might be able to leverage the hostages for aid, he took captive English missionaries and diplomats.
Flashman ended up going the long way back to England after escaping the Juaristas in Mexico who’d overcome Maximillian’s forces, and in so doing encountered Napier at the outset of his 400-mile trek from the Red Sea to Magdala. It was Napier’s boundless admiration for Flashman’s abilities (!) that suggested to him Flashman’s utility as a covert emissary to one of the rival Muslim factions, to urge their cooperation in hemming in Theodore at his redoubt. Whilst Napier and his 13,000 British and Indian soldiers, 26,000 camp followers, and over 40,000 animals, including the 39 elephants, marched overland, Flashman goes off separately with a female guide to enlist the aid of Queen Masteeat. Flashman has ample time to engage in some derring-do, conjure sexual fantasies, and participate in an orgy of sex and food.
A quixotic series of events bring Flashman to Theodore, and he becomes that mad king’s captive/companion, so that much of the latter third of the novel details his attempts to avoid that man’s moments of cruel wrath. From all accounts, Theodore was brilliant and charismatic, but prone to sudden bouts of fury and paranoia, only too eager to kill someone for a perceived slight. Whole villages had been razed and tens of thousands of people slaughtered to establish/maintain his rule. The actual battle between Napier and Theodore was anticlimactic, and while Napier’s forces lost only 20 men, Theodore lost over 1700. When Theodore’s great 5-ton cannon exploded, Theodore retreated to his fortress. Even though Theodore released all the captives, he would not surrender, and in the siege of Magdala, he took his life.
The English very quickly departed (taking away the European captives and many items that ended in the British Museum), and left the country to its own devices. The whole affair cost Britain over 9 million pounds, a fact that embarrassed the British government. The story of the “expedition” is a peculiar novelty, and Fraser recasts this largely forgotten episode in a generally positive light, conveying admiration for the men and their leaders (particularly Napier), casting opprobrium only on the British Home Office. Fraser’s research into the events is impeccable, and his 20 pages of endnotes highlight the many different sources (other than Flashman’s memoirs) that inform this tale of an affronted Empire exacting its due.