THE SIEGE AND FALL OF KHARTUM.
The surrender of Omdurman fort--Gordon's dispositions for
defence--His great personal influence--The night before the
assault--The attack and entry of the Dervishes--Gordon's death--The
adventures of Domenico Polinari--The massacre in Khartum--How most
of the Europeans died--Ruthless cruelty and bloodshed--The fate of
the wives and daughters of Khartum--Ohrwalder's views on the
situation in Khartum and the chances of relief by the British
Expeditionary Force--His description of the town three months after
the fall.
The Mahdi camped on the south side of Omdurman fort, and at once began
to direct the siege, the command of his troops was vested in Abu Anga;
but he did not dare to send his black troops, who had previously fought
in the Egyptian service under Gordon, against Khartum, fearing that,
owing to the influence which Gordon had formerly exercised over them,
they might desert to him.
Omdurman Fort, which was then under the command of Faragallah Pasha, was
soon reduced to great straits, and the Mahdiists threw up trenches, in
which they were comparatively safe from the continuous fire. Eventually
they succeeded in entrenching themselves between the fort and the river,
thus cutting the communications, which Gordon was unable to restore.
Consequently, the garrison soon began to starve; but they still fought
courageously, and inflicted great loss on the Dervishes. Amongst the
latter was a certain emir, named Mohammed Wad el Areik, who, while in
the act of laying a gun at Omdurman, was struck in the back of the neck
by a bullet. He was visited by the Khalifa Abdullah, who promised that
he should recover; but, in spite of this promise, he died the following
day.
Faragallah, having now no food left, was obliged to surrender, and thus
the Mahdi was enabled to press the siege of Khartum more closely than
ever.
The town itself was full of traitors; almost all the important townsmen
had written to the Mahdi from time to time, to the effect that they
wished to submit to him, and that they believed in him. Gordon was, so
to speak, alone in the midst of enemies, but the expected arrival of the
English kept the inhabitants from surrendering.
Every day Gordon invented some means of making the people believe that
their deliverers were near; he frequently had the walls placarded with
announcements that they were very near Khartum, but all his promises
came to nothing.
Gordon was almost superhuman in his efforts to keep up hope. Every day,
and many and many a time during the day, did he look towards the north
from the roof of the palace for the relief which never arrived. He
overcame the want of money by issuing paper bonds; but soon the people
refused to accept them, and to enforce his order he sent fourteen
merchants to the east bank, just in front of the enemy's guns; this he
did to frighten them, and when they agreed to accept the bonds he had
them brought back to the town. To further strengthen the belief of the
people in the speedy arrival of the English, he hired all the best
houses along the river bank, and had them prepared for their occupation.
He was sure they would come--but when? The time was pressing. How
eagerly he searched the distant horizon for the English flag he longed
to see, but every day he was doomed to disappointment.
The troops were famine-stricken, and began to lose heart, whilst the
enemy without the walls daily grew bolder in anticipation of the plunder
they hoped so soon would be theirs. From Buri to Kalakala the Dervishes
extended in one unbroken mass, whilst their hundreds of noggaras never
ceased beating in Gordon's ears night and day.
The town was closely hemmed in on three sides. Wad Gubara on the north
was near enough to shell his palace; and under the hole where the first
shot struck the wall Gordon inscribed the date as a remembrance. None of
us can realize how heavily his terrible responsibilities weighed upon
him. Despair had seized upon the town. The unreliable nature of the
Sudanese was a constant source of anxiety to him, and enhanced the
critical situation. Those in charge of the biscuits and dhurra stole
quantities of it on every possible occasion, and tried to deceive Gordon
by assuring him that there were millions of okes in store, when in
reality there was almost nothing. In their endeavours to enrich
themselves they forgot that they were only preparing the way for their
ultimate destruction.
The officer in charge of the dhurra store was arrested and brought
before a Court of Inquiry; but Gordon had to point out to those who were
making the investigation that they should not inquire too critically
into the matter. He knew all that had taken place, but he was powerless
to stop it. He won the people's hearts by his generosity; and even to
this day all who knew him never cease speaking of his kindness. His
endeavours to recompense the Greeks for their honesty are affecting in
the extreme. He elaborated numerous plans for their escape. His first
intention was to place a steamer at their disposal to convey them to
Emin Pasha in Equatoria; and, to avoid ill-feeling and jealousy, he made
known his plans to them at a public meeting, remarking that as most of
them were natives of the Greek islands, they had necessarily
considerable experience of boats and navigation, and that therefore it
became their duty to patrol with the steamers on the Blue and White
Niles, and watch the enemy's movements; but secretly he warned them that
they should be in readiness, as soon as they saw Khartum was lost, to
set off and join Emin Pasha.
This plan did not, however, please the Greeks, so Gordon proposed
another, which was that, in case of great danger, they should proceed
north; and for this purpose he kept a steamer moored off the palace,
well stocked with biscuits and other necessaries. To enable them to get
their families on board during the night without the other townspeople
knowing about it, he gave orders that after 9 P.M. all traffic along the
roads leading to the Blue Nile should be stopped, and that no persons
were to be allowed out of their houses after that hour. In this way,
should the Dervishes enter the town by night, the Greeks could easily
escape to the steamer, start down stream, and meet the English. Some of
them resolved that, should the Mahdiists effect an entrance, they would
forcibly carry off Gordon and put him on board the steamer, for they
felt sure he would not leave Khartum of his own accord. Everything was
carefully prearranged and considered; and all would have been well but
for a disagreement amongst the Greeks themselves, which mainly arose
through the phlegmatic and short-sighted conduct of their consul Nicola
Leontides.
On that fatal Sunday evening one of the principal Greeks came to the
consul and begged him urgently to spend that night on the steamer. The
consul refused, arguing that there was no imminent danger, and that he
was sure the troops could hold out a few days longer. The Greek argued
in vain, and at length left him; and that was the last time they saw
each other.
That night proved to be the last night on earth for Gordon and thousands
of others. While they were sleeping soundly, and dreaming perhaps of the
arrival of the English, the Dervishes were creeping like snakes towards
the parapets. It is hardly likely Gordon could have slept. For two days
he had remarked considerable movement in the Mahdi's camp; he had
observed numbers of boats passing to and fro on the White and Blue
Niles. He could not have doubted that the Mahdi was preparing to strike
the final blow. And so it proved, for he was planning the assault on
Khartum. He had received news of the destruction of his troops at Abu
Klea and Abu Kru, and of the advance of the English.
The Mahdi was convinced that if one Englishman reached Khartum his
chance of success was gone, and that he must retire to Kordofan. That
was his reason for attempting the assault. Gordon, on the other hand,
expected the arrival of the English at any moment; and while he was
counting the hours which might elapse ere they could reach him, his
enemies were shaking their lances with which they should pierce him.
The moon had gone down, deep obscurity reigned; and now the Dervishes
stealthily advanced in perfect silence towards that portion of the
defence which had been destroyed during the high Nile, and which, as the
river receded, had left an open space in which ditch and parapet had
almost disappeared. Here there was little to impede their entry; and the
Dervishes, shouting their wild battle-cry, dashed in wild disorder over
this open ground.
Farag Pasha commanded the whole of this portion of the defences. Many
people in the Sudan, more especially those who used to be in the
Government service, say that Farag Pasha betrayed the town; but the fact
that he was killed almost immediately after the fall points to his not
having done so.
It is a well-known fact that many of the senior officers were wavering,
and numbers of Khartum merchants were in correspondence with the Mahdi.
It is possible that their action may have assisted the Dervishes. The
latter naturally assert that Khartum was captured entirely by force of
arms, for any acknowledgment on their part of treachery within the town
would tend to detract from the effect of the Mahdi's success. The matter
stands thus: the parapet which had been destroyed had never been
repaired. This was not Gordon's fault; in his desperate position he
could not be everywhere. It is a thousand pities that he had not a few
trusty European officers with him. With the exception of this defective
portion near the White Nile, the whole line of defence was almost
impregnable; the ditch was so deep and the parapet so high that it would
have been next to impossible to cross it.
[Illustration: A DERVISH EMIR, PRESENT IN THE ATTACK ON KHARTUM, AND
AFTERWARDS CAPTURED AT TOSKI.]
On coming through the open space the Dervishes broke up into two
parties. One party dashed along the parapet, breaking all resistance,
and slaughtering the soldiers in all directions; the other party made
for the town. The inhabitants, roused from their sleep by the shouts of
the Arabs and the din of rifle-shots, hurried out, anticipating what had
occurred. Like a pent-up stream suddenly released, over 50,000 wild
Dervishes, with hideous yells, rushed upon the 40,000 inhabitants of
Khartum, besides the 5,000 soldiers--all that was left of the 9,000 at
the commencement of the siege. The only cry of these fanatical hordes
was "Kenisa! Saraya!" ("To the church! the palace!")--_i.e._ the
Austrian Mission Church and Gordon's palace, where they expected to find
treasure stored up in the cellars, and priests and sisters.
The surging mass threw itself on the palace, overflowed into the lovely
garden, and burst through the doors in wild search for their prey; but
Gordon went alone to meet them. As they rushed up the stairs, he came
towards them and tried to speak to them; but they could not or would not
listen, and the first Arab plunged his huge spear into his body. He fell
forward on his face, was dragged down the stairs, many stabbed him with
their spears, and his head was cut off and sent to the Mahdi.
Such was the end of the brave defender of Khartum. When I came from El
Obeid to Omdurman I visited Khartum, and went to the palace, where I was
shown some black spots on the stairs which they told me were the traces
of Gordon's blood.
On Gordon's head being brought to the Mahdi, he appeared to have been
much displeased at his death--not because he felt pity for him, but he
believed that Gordon might join his army. Had he not done so, he would
have imprisoned him and reduced him to slavery. It was much better that
Gordon should have died when he did than have remained a captive in the
hands of these cruel and fanatical Arabs. Gordon's head was hung on a
tree in Omdurman, and the wild multitude rejoiced in heaping curses on
it and insulting it.
After the palace, the Mission building was the next principal object on
which the wild, plunder-seeking Arabs vented their fury. General Gordon
had some time previously hired this building, which was of stone and
bomb-proof, and turned it into a powder magazine and ammunition store.
The Dervishes killed the guards mounted outside the garden, and then
broke in, while others clambered over the high wall. A black who was
employed in the Mission garden was lying on the point of death on his
mattress in the garden; the Dervishes ended his life by ripping open his
body.
The Mission gardener, brother Domenico Polinari, who had been left to
take charge of the Mission property, on the first alarm, had rushed to
the main gate of the garden to see what was the matter. He opened the
gate slightly, and, seeing an array of lances, he slammed to the gate
with all his might, and fled to a small hut in the garden which was full
of hay, and he hid himself in the corner underneath the hay. Several
slaves who were working in the garden followed his example; but they did
not stay long, for, thinking it was not a sufficiently good
hiding-place, they were running off to another hut when they were fallen
upon and massacred. Domenico heard their shrieks and the click of the
sword which beheaded them from his place of concealment; but he dared
not move from the spot, though half choked with the dry grass in which
he lay. Several Dervishes entered the hut and thrust their spears into
the hay to search for any one in concealment.
One can realize the terror of poor Domenico as the naked spear-heads
were forced through and almost touched him. He lay, however,
undiscovered for some hours, and at last the noise and din of
rifle-shots grew less. Though suffering agonies from thirst, he still
did not dare to move till close on midnight, when he emerged from his
bed of hay. All was still, the stillness of death. He could see the
Dervish guard fires; and, as he crept along, he stumbled over the dead
body of the black who had been working in the garden. Horror-stricken,
he slowly moved forward again. At every step he saw a dead man, all of
them labourers and watchmen who had attempted to escape when the
Dervishes entered. Creeping under the shadow of the large lemon-trees,
he reached the main gate, above which was a small hut which had been
occupied by one of the black families belonging to the Mission. The
windows of the hut looked into the garden, and Domenico scrambled
through one of these into the room. Here he found one of the women,
Halima, and begged her to give him some bread and water. He questioned
her about the entrance of the Dervishes and the fate of the inhabitants.
She replied in a few words that the town had been stormed, and numbers
of the inhabitants, as well as General Gordon, Consul Hansal, and most
of the Europeans, had been killed.
This was a new shock to the already terror-stricken Domenico. He threw
himself on the bed and begged that Halima would not betray him; but she,
fearing to be found out, crept out of the hut, went up to the Dervishes
who were collected round the camp fire, and told them that there was a
Turk in her cottage. Some of them jumped up, and, following Halima into
the hut, they drove out the unfortunate Domenico with the butt ends of
their lances. He was brought in front of the camp fire and carefully
searched for money; but he at once drew forty pounds out of his pocket,
which he distributed amongst them, and they were satisfied and did not
ill-treat him.
On the following day he was taken before Ahmed Wad Suleiman, the Emin
beit el mal, who made full inquiries of him regarding the Mission money.
Domenico said that when the Mission left Khartum they took all the money
with them, and had left nothing. Domenico was then sent to the garden to
work there for his new master, but soon afterwards was betrayed a second
time, and fell into grievous trouble and danger.
A few days before the fall of Khartum he had buried £150 in the garden,
intending to make use of it when the needful time came; but one of the
blacks who was working at the steam-pump in the garden, to whom
Domenico had confided his secret, and who was one of the garden
labourers who had escaped the massacre, went and told Ahmed Sharfi (one
of the Mahdi's nearest relations) that Domenico had concealed money.
This he did to ensure his own safety, for the Dervishes had been greatly
disappointed in the quantity of loot they expected to find. In the
palace they had discovered only paper money, and in the Mission some
furniture, instead of the treasure they had been led to expect. Ahmed
Sharfi was therefore much pleased with the black's information, himself
came to Domenico and asked to be shown the place where the money was
buried. In vain Domenico protested that he had given all the money to
Gordon. He was at once knocked down and flogged with a kurbash; but the
first stroke, which drew blood, made him cry for mercy; he disclosed the
hiding-place, and, when Ahmed Sharfi had secured the money, he was
released.
The ruthless bloodshed and cruelty exercised by the Dervishes in Khartum
is beyond description. I will briefly describe the deaths of the
best-known people. Nicola Leontides, the Greek consul, who, on account
of his amiable character, was much respected in Khartum, had his hands
cut off first, and was then beheaded. Martin Hansal, the Austrian
consul, who was the oldest member of the European colony, was alive up
till 2 P.M., when some Arabs from Buri, led by his chief kavass, who was
on bad terms with him, entered the courtyard of the house, and, on
Hansal being summoned to come down, he was at once beheaded. At the same
time Mulatte Skander, a carpenter who lived with him, was killed in the
same way. His body, together with that of his dog and parrot, were then
taken out, alcohol poured over them, and set fire to. After a time, when
the body had become like a red-hot coal, it was thrown into the river.
Human blood and ruthless cruelty alone seemed to satisfy the Dervishes.
The Austrian tailor, Klein, on making the sign of the cross, had his
throat cut from ear to ear with a knife which was used to slaughter
animals, and his life-blood was poured out before the eyes of his
horror-stricken wife and children. Not satisfied with the death of the
father, they seized his son, a youth of eighteen, and, burying their
lances in his body, they stretched him out at his mother's feet, a
corpse! They then took counsel as to how they should kill the next son,
a lad of fifteen. But by this time the mother, a daughter of Cattarina
Nobili, of Venice, was worked up into a state of mad despair. Seizing
her son of five years old with her right hand, while she held her
suckling babe to her breast with her left, she fought against these
murderers like a tigress being robbed of her young, and they could not
wrest her children from her; but they seized her daughter, a girl of
eighteen, who became the wife of an Arab.
The son-in-law of Doctor Georges Bey (who had been killed in the Hicks's
expedition) was roused from sleep by the noise of the Arabs breaking in.
He rose from his bed, and, making the sign of the cross, rushed to the
window, where he shouted "Aman" ("Security of life"); but a bullet
struck him in the forehead, and he fell dead at the feet of his young
wife. The Dervishes forced their way into the house, broke in the door
of the room where the dead man lay stretched out on the bed, killed
another Greek, and clove open the head of the little son, a boy of
twelve years of age, with an axe, scattering his brains over his
unfortunate mother, who was sitting beside him. She saved her little son
of six months old by saying he was a girl. The mother herself was not
killed, as she was with child, but she was reserved to become the wife
of Abderrahman Wad en Nejumi.
Aser, the American consul, fell down dead on seeing his brother beheaded
before his eyes. The males of most of the Coptic families were
massacred, but the women were spared. I know several of these poor women
who, from continuously weeping over the cruelties of that terrible 26th
of January, have become quite blind.
Those men whose lives were spared have to thank Providence that either
they fell into the hands of those less cruel than their comrades, or
that they did not quit their houses for two days, at the end of which
time the first wild passions of these murderers had cooled down.
The fate of seven Greeks was a sad one; these were all together in one
house, for, through a merciful Providence, they had fallen into less
cruel hands. It was past noon, and they were rejoicing at having escaped
from the general massacre. Then a certain George Clementino entered.
This Clementino had originally come from El Obeid, and had frequently
been sent by the Mahdi with messages to Gordon, and when he returned
from Khartum to the Mahdi, the latter treated him with much favour.
When the capture of Khartum was known in Omdurman, Clementino hastened
to the town, with the intention of rescuing any compatriots he could
find, and he soon heard of the seven surviving Greeks. Full of delight
at their safety, he congratulated them, and advised them to make their
way to the house of Manoli, the Greek who, with his wife and nephew, had
escaped by concealing themselves in the dove-cot.
It was Clementino's intention to collect all the Greeks here, and then
take them to Omdurman. The seven Greeks trusted to their compatriot's
name and influence to protect them, but Dervishes were on the watch to
stop them. As they were following Clementino to Manoli's house, which
was only a short distance off--indeed, they had only gone a few
steps--they were met by a party of Ahmed Sharfi's Danagla, who were
searching the streets filled with the dead and wounded, with the object
of giving the _coup de grâce_ to any who might still be alive.
When these murderers espied the party of white men from a short
distance, they shouted, "Look! Some of these dogs, these unbelievers,
are still alive," and, full of anger, they rushed upon the unfortunate
Greeks. Clementino begged and prayed that they might be spared, but
they were beheaded before his eyes, and he himself barely escaped with
his life. Pale, terror-stricken, and trembling, he fled to Omdurman, and
for some months he lay on the point of death, so great had been the
shock of witnessing the massacre of his fellow-countrymen.
Numbers even of women and little children were not spared, and the
torture which the survivors had to undergo, to force them to produce
their money, are scarcely credible. Ibrahim Pasha Fauzi (the favourite
of Gordon) was tied for several days to a date-palm and flogged till he
gave up all his money. The old widow of Mustafa Tiranis was flogged
almost to death. She was a rich Circassian lady, and had supplied Gordon
with money in donkey loads, and had been decorated by him with the
Khartum medal.
Slaves were most cruelly tortured, beaten, and forced to disclose the
hiding-places of their masters' money and treasures. The Shaigieh tribe
in particular was most harshly dealt with; this was the only tribe which
remained loyal to the Government, and even eight days after the fall of
Khartum, if a Shaigi was seen, he was instantly killed; hence the
Dervish proverb, "Esh Shaigi, Wad er Rif el Kelb ma yelga raha fil
Mahadieh" ("The Shaigi, the Egyptian, _i.e._, the white one, the dog, no
rest shall he find in Mahdieh").[G]
Farag Pasha did not live long after the fall; some still said he had
betrayed the town, and the Dervishes were furious with him because, some
ten days before the assault, during one of the preliminary attacks, he
had shot Abdullah Wad en Nur, an emir of great repute, and much beloved
by the Ansar. Farag was summoned before Wad Suleiman, who ordered him to
produce all the money he had. Incensed at his treatment and at the
charge of treachery, he fell into a hot dispute with Wad Suleiman, who
had him forthwith beheaded as an unbeliever and an obstinate man. If he
was really a traitor, he richly deserved his fate; but if not, his
death was that of a brave man.
When the massacre in Khartum was at an end, the Mahdi himself gave
orders that the survivors should be spared, but the wild fury of these
fanatical Arabs had been satiated at the cost of 10,000 lives; the
streets were filled with headless corpses, which were left unburied
until the plunder had been distributed.
The whole of Khartum was now divided up amongst hundreds of emirs and
their mukuddums. Every emir planted his flag in the midst of the quarter
captured by his men, and then the work of collecting the survivors was
begun. Ahmed Wad Suleiman ordered all free women and slaves to be
brought to the beit el mal; here the young and good-looking fair women
were locked up in a separate enclosure, the good-looking, unmarried
Sudanese girls in another zariba, and in a third were placed black slave
girls, suitable as concubines.
It is deplorable to think that at such a time were found certain of the
well-known townsmen of Khartum who assisted the Dervishes to lay hands
on all the prettiest girls in Khartum; through their intermediary, many
of the women who had cut off their hair, and in other ways concealed
their beauty and sex by disguising themselves as men, fell into the
hands of the Ansar.
May God's curse fall on those wicked traitors who delivered up these
unfortunates in order to gain favour with the Mahdi! What sufferings
these miserable creatures underwent when they lay huddled together like
cattle in a pen, awaiting their cruel fate! Many of them were still in
their silken robes, all bespattered with the blood of their husbands and
children, and there they lay, awaiting their turn to become the wives of
those who had murdered their husbands and their offspring!
The first selection was, of course, made for the Mahdi, who took for
himself all girls of five years of age and upwards, who, in a few years'
time, he would take to his harem; then came the turn of the three
Khalifas, whose selections were made especially under the direction of
Wad Suleiman; then followed the emirs, each in the order of his rank,
and one by one they made their choice of these wretched women. Those
that were left were distributed amongst the Ansar. Then were openly
enacted sights which would have melted hearts of stone. The weeping and
lamentation of the white women, as they prayed and besought the pity of
their masters, the rough jeering and foul replies of these monsters, it
is all too horrible to relate.
The old unmarried women were given a few rags with which to partially
cover themselves, and were sent to Nejumi's camp, where they were kept
in captivity for a few days. All suffered the agonies of hunger and
thirst, heat and cold. Little babies, not yet weaned, were left to die
of hunger, and for weeks after the fall young widowed mothers could be
seen wandering naked through the market at Omdurman, begging. Some poor
women brought forth children in the streets, and there they would lie,
mother and child, naked and foodless, until death came as a happy
release from their misery.
The Mahdi had directed that all gold and silver jewellery, precious
stones and ornaments, should be collected in the beit el mal; but of
course most of this had already found its way into the pockets of the
emirs; and, in spite of the Mahdi's most stringent orders, and his
threats that those who concealed the booty would be punished in
hell-fire, still the Ansar kept the loot and risked the eternal flames.
Considerable quantities of treasure were, however, collected in the beit
el mal, for Khartum was wealthy, and the women especially had quantities
of gold and silver ornaments; but so much loot soon reduced the
currency, and a sovereign was now valued at two and a half dollars.
Every penny was extracted from the prisoners by the lash, and all were
reduced to complete beggary. They were then sent to Nejumi's camp; and
on their way thither they were again beaten and searched. They were kept
a few days longer as prisoners in that camp, and then those who had the
fortune to meet with relations or friends who had been released would
weep together over their wretched state. The confusion was terrible.
Women wandered through the camps in search of their children, children
sought their parents; but how few ever found them!
After a time all the prisoners were permitted to live in Omdurman, where
they eked out a miserable existence by begging; but hunger, disease, and
all the sufferings they had undergone carried off hundreds. For days
they remained naked, scorched under the burning sun by day, and perished
with cold at night. How could people accustomed to ease and comfort bear
up against such hardships?
When at length all the houses in Khartum had been evacuated, the
furniture, &c., removed, and their owners robbed of all they possessed,
the effects were sold from the beit el mal at a low price. The various
coloured stuffs were cut up and utilised for making the patches on the
jibbehs (Dervish uniform), gold brocades were purchased by those who
knew their real value for a mere trifle, and the gold melted down and
made into ornaments. Mirrors and looking-glasses were chopped in pieces
with axes, and valuable china and pottery articles, which might have
been sold for much, were smashed in pieces. The beautiful Khartum
gardens were divided up amongst the chiefs; the Khalifa Abdullah became
the possessor of Gordon's garden, Khalifa Sherif took that of the Roman
Catholic Mission, and Khalifa Ali Wad Helu became owner of Albert
Marquet's. Every emir selected the best house he could find, and there
he installed himself with his wives and slaves; while the Ansar took the
houses of the poorer Copts and Egyptians. But Omdurman, and not Khartum,
was now considered the Dervish capital.
Intoxicated by their success, and insatiable in their desire for women
and plunder, the Dervishes had forgotten altogether about the English,
for whom Gordon had waited so long. How cruel is fate! Two days after
the fall, on the 28th of January, 1885, two steamers were seen slowly
making their way along the western shore of Tuti Island.
Khartum and Omdurman were electrified; a consultation was quickly held,
and it was at once decided to prevent their landing. The English could
be seen searching in all directions for some sign to show them that
Gordon was still alive; but the only answer they got was the rain of
thousands of bullets fired from thousands upon thousands of rifles and
guns at Omdurman and Fort Mukrun. All rushed to the river bank. The
women, seizing sticks and waving them over their heads, shrieked and
yelled like hyenas, "Mót lil Inglez!" ("Death to the English!") and they
were prepared to rush at them with their sticks if they attempted to
land. When the English saw this, they could have had little doubt as to
what had happened; they turned back and disappeared. The rage of the
Dervishes at their departure was unbounded. They rained bullets and
shell after them; but they were soon out of sight.
Let us now consider for a moment the chances of success of the English
relief expedition. The defeat at Abu Klea struck terror into the
Mahdiists gathered round Khartum; the arrival of some wounded men at
Omdurman added to the general alarm. Had twenty redcoats arrived at
Khartum, it would have been saved. Their presence would have given fresh
courage to the inhabitants; and, confident of their approaching
deliverance, they would have striven might and main to hold out longer.
General Gordon, assisted by the advice and energy of a few English
officers, would have completely regained his influence. It is true,
indeed, that the soldiers were weary of the long siege and continual
fighting, and they had lost all faith in Gordon's repeated promises that
the English were coming. They became heart-broken and in despair; but
Khartum was not for long in the state of distress which prevailed in El
Obeid before that town fell. In Khartum they had only been eating gum
for a few days previous to the fall, while in El Obeid they had existed
on it for months, and had practically nothing else to live upon.
Had the Khartum people but seen one Englishman with their own eyes, they
would have taken fresh courage, and would in all probability have held
out for another month, until the relief for which they had waited so
long was a _fait accompli_. The Mahdi would not have dared to assault
Khartum; and even if he had, it is most probable he would have been
beaten back. Many survivors of Khartum often said to me, "Had we seen
one Englishman, we should have been saved; but our doubt that the
English were really coming, and the feeling that Gordon must be
deceiving us, made us discouraged, and we felt that death would be
preferable to the life of constant war and daily suffering we were
leading during the siege."
The unaccountable delay of the English was the cause of the fall of
Khartum, the death of Gordon, and the fate of the Sudan. The Mahdi only
made up his mind to attack when he heard that they had delayed at Gubat.
He did not begin to cross over his troops till the 24th of January, and
it was not till Sunday night that the crossing was complete. He could
not have attacked earlier than he did. When the first news of his defeat
at Abu Klea reached him he wished to raise the siege and retire to
Kordofan. If the English had appeared at any time before he delivered
the attack he would have raised the siege and retired. Indeed, it was
always his intention to revisit El Obeid before he made his attack.
Even to the present day people in the Sudan cannot understand the reason
for the delay. Some say that the English general was wounded at Abu
Klea, and was lying insensible, and that those who were acting for him
did not dare to undertake any operations until he was sufficiently
recovered to be able to give his own orders.
The Sudanese wondered why Europeans, who generally take precautions for
every eventuality, should not have done so in this case. Others thought
that Kashm el Mus Pasha must have urged the English to attack the Arabs
about Metemmeh and Shendi, in revenge for the persistency with which
they had attacked and harassed the steamers. The above are only some of
the many reasons by which the Sudanese seek to explain the delay after
the battle of Abu Klea.
When the English were convinced that Khartum had fallen, they retreated
north. Once the town had fallen, the little English fighting force was
in the gravest peril; the Mahdi had now his entire force at his disposal
to combat them. He at once despatched Nejumi and a large number of his
best emirs with a large force; and had not the English already retreated
before he reached Metemmeh, they could not have escaped.
The Mahdi was furious when he heard that the English, who had killed
such numbers of his best troops, had retired; and, though the latter
failed in their object, still their bold attempt to snatch the prey from
the lion's mouth must remain for ever a grand exploit. The bravery of
the English in advancing on Khartum with such a small number of men is
always a source of wonder to the Sudanese. But, alas, what a useless
sacrifice of blood and money! The relief came too late.
The memory of Gordon, the heroic defender of Khartum, is still held in
respectful remembrance in the Sudan. His bravery, generosity, and
voluntary self-sacrifice have won the admiration of his bitterest
enemies. It is the common saying amongst Moslems, "Had Gordon been one
of us, he would have been a perfect man." I will now give a slight
sketch of the events subsequent to the fall, and the fate of the town.
After the retreat of the English, the new masters of Khartum settled
down and made themselves comfortable. The Ashraf, _i.e._ the Mahdi's
relatives, especially made themselves at home in the best houses and
gardens, the best dancers entertained them by night, and they lived a
life of ease and luxury. After the death of the Mahdi, which occurred on
the 22nd of June, 1885, his successor, the Khalifa Abdullah, looked on
the prosperity of Khartum with jealous eyes.
When I arrived in Khartum from El Obeid in April 1886, I visited every
part of the town, and examined it most carefully; very few houses had
been destroyed, and the town was thickly populated. I also visited the
lines of defence between the Blue and White Niles, they extended about
six kilometres. The impression I gathered from the appearance of the
ditch, which at that time had been much damaged by the heavy rains, was
that it could not have been crossed, except near the White Nile where it
was quite choked up with mud and sand. At various points along the line
there were strongly-built forts manned with guns, and a little in rear
of the parapets were high structures which commanded the ditch; behind
every loophole were small mud shelters, evidently made by the troops to
protect themselves from the cold and strong winds.
The Messalamieh gate was built of burnt bricks and cement and was then
in a good state, but the iron gate lay unopened against the side of the
ditch. I counted about 150 bodies along the parapet; there they lay,
shrivelled up like mummies, while rats and mice had made their homes in
them. In one place I saw two bodies tied together by the feet, they had
evidently been killed in this position. It was impossible to distinguish
the Egyptians from the blacks, for the sun had burnt up and shrivelled
the skin into one black colour. Here, where there had been such bustling
activity, now only the stillness of the tomb prevailed. As one walked
along, lizards and other reptiles would creep from beneath the skeletons
and dart off to take refuge under others.
I strolled on from the Messalamieh gate to the European cemetery. Here
what desolation and desecration met my eyes! The crosses had been
smashed to pieces and lay strewn about in little bits. Graves had been
dug up and the bodies pulled out. I recognised from their clothes three
who had died in January 1881. The grave of Bishop Comboni, who had died
on the 11th of October, 1881, and had been buried in the Mission garden,
had also been opened, but the obelisk erected to his memory by the
townspeople of Khartum had not been destroyed. The church bells had
been pulled down, but lay there in the garden undamaged.
Shortly after my visit, Khartum was reduced to ruins. The Khalifa
Abdullah, jealous of the Ashraf, who had completely established
themselves in the town, and whose actions he could not therefore
sufficiently supervise, determined to order its evacuation. In August
the command was given to all to quit the town within three days; it was
carried out at once, and on the fourth day the destruction of Khartum
began. Houses were pulled down, the wood of the windows, balconies, and
doors was transported to Omdurman, and within a very short time the
whole place was in ruins; the burnt bricks were for the most part
brought to Omdurman; the only buildings which were spared were the
Arsenal, in which work still continues to be done, Gordon's palace, and
the Mission house. In fact, Khartum is now nothing but a heap of mud
ruins, here and there a wall is left standing, everywhere large prickly
thorn bushes have sprung up and cover as with a veil the sad remnants of
the once thriving and populous metropolis of the Sudan.
FOOTNOTES:
[G] According to the Mahdi doctrine, dogs, being considered
impure animals, are destroyed; but this subject will be considered in
another chapter.