A CHAPTER OF HORRORS.
The revolt of the Batahin tribe--Revolt suppressed with appalling
cruelty--Wholesale executions--Method of hanging--Punishment by
mutilation--The execution of Abdel Nur--Trade with Egypt--Wad
Adlan, the emin beit el mal--His imprisonment and death.
Another example of the Khalifa's cruel and merciless treatment of all
who oppose him is shown by the manner in which he dealt with the Batahin
tribe.
This small but warlike tribe inhabits the right bank of the Blue Nile
near its confluence with the White, and extends as far as Rufaa; also
portions of this tribe are found scattered in the Gezireh. They are the
most daring robbers, and, mounted on swift camels, they lie in ambush
awaiting caravans and merchants, whom they generally kill and make off
with their goods. Bruce, in his 'Travels,' remarks that the wooded
country around Omdurman was their favourite haunt. They were the
staunchest adherents of the Sheikh el Obeid, whom Gordon's "fighting
pasha," Mohammed Ali, had so severely defeated.
During the massacre in Khartum the Batahin were most cruel and pitiless,
and for their evil deeds God's just vengeance overtook them before long.
Abdullah had sent an emir with a few soldiers to collect the ushr tax,
but the wild Batahin, whose own system was to rob and plunder the poor,
leaving them not even the wherewithal to live, resisted the emir and his
men, and forced them to flee their country. When this news reached the
Khalifa, he was infuriated, and determined to deal in the harshest
possible manner with this rebellious tribe. He therefore despatched the
emir Abdel Baki with a considerable force, with instructions to seize
every Batahin he could find, put him in chains, and bring him to
Omdurman.
[Illustration]
This tribe was now hunted down over the whole country, and Abdel Baki
succeeded in securing a few hundred of them, as well as Taher Wad Sheikh
el Obeid, who had been instigating them, and these were all brought to
the capital. The influential El Obeid family had taken a very prominent
part in the siege of Khartum, but after the Mahdi's death they had
become discontented and were not on good terms with the Khalifa; Taher
had, therefore, been ordered to leave Rufaa and settle in Omdurman.
On reaching Khojali, which is just opposite to Omdurman on the other
bank, he wrote to the Khalifa to say that his father, who since his
death had been revered as a saint in the Gezireh on account of his
holiness, and who had received innumerable presents on account of his
power in preserving the lives of infants, had appeared to him in a
dream, telling him to stay at Khojali and make that the headquarters of
the family; he was not, therefore, able to come to Omdurman. Taher
showed his sagacity in refusing to comply with the order; but Abdullah,
whose earnest desire it was to abolish the "saints" of the Sudan, agreed
to give Taher twenty-four hours to decide whether he would come to
Omdurman or not, so there was nothing for it but to go. However, after a
time he was permitted to return to Rufaa, leaving his family as hostages
in Omdurman. This is the Khalifa's usual mode of acting with all
influential persons whom he suspects of disloyalty.
But to return to the Batahin. Most of them died of starvation and
ill-treatment, sixty-nine were taken to the square opposite the beit el
amana, where they were kept under a soldiers' guard whilst the Khalifa
held a consultation regarding their fate. No decision was come to for
some time, and this was because more gallows were being prepared.
Hitherto there was only one, now there were three near the "court"
zariba--two at the south end of the market-place, and one at the west
end; all were provided with camel-hair ropes.
Early the following morning the war-drums were beaten, the onbeïa
sounded, and eighteen Batahin were executed, three on each gallows. Such
executions have always a great attraction for the Sudanese. The
eighteen men were all brought up to the gallows with their hands tied
behind their backs. Without a sound or even a change of expression, they
gave themselves up to their fate, or, as the Moslem says, they gave
themselves up to "El Mektub" (_i.e._ "to that which is written"), for it
is supposed that God writes down in a book the birth, experiences, and
death of everyone, which things cannot be changed.
Below the gallows is an angarib, on which the condemned stands, while an
immensely tall Dinka called Bringi puts the noose round the man's head,
pulls it tight, fastens it to the gallows, and then draws away the
angarib; and in this way the whole eighteen were soon swinging in the
air, whilst the assembled masses sent up shout after shout of
exultation.
It was a most horrible sight. The poor creatures wore only a miserable
cloth round their loins; they had had nothing to eat for some days, and
presented a most wretched condition as the wind blew their emaciated
bodies backwards and forwards. All were powerful young men, and the
bystanders--as is always the way with the Dervishes--vituperated them
freely, accusing them of every description of wanton cruelty, whereas it
is more than probable that all these just executed were entirely
innocent, and were expiating the crimes of those who had been fortunate
enough to escape. When all contortions were over, the bodies were untied
to make room for the remainder, who had been quietly gazing at the fate
of their brothers which was so soon to be theirs.
On this occasion--as it had often happened before--the cord broke under
the last man's weight; but Bringi was very quick, he lost no time in
joining the ends and completed his brutal work. The impressions which
all those dreadful scenes left on my mind can never be obliterated. But
if the fate of the eighteen was cruel, the fate of the remaining
fifty-one was even worse.
The Khalifa now rode out accompanied by the cavalry and thousands of
spearmen, and taking the wretched Batahin with them they marched
towards the parade ground. Every now and then on the way he ordered one
of them to be decapitated, and in this way twenty-four more were killed;
there were now only twenty-seven left, and on arriving on the ground he
sent for the butchers to cut off their hands and feet; soon there was a
heap of these bleeding members, whilst the bodies of the poor Batahin
lay writhing on the ground, beads of anguish pouring from their brows;
yet not a cry did they utter; most of them died in a very short time.
Even the most stony hearts were touched on beholding this terrible
spectacle, but no one dared show it--in fact everyone tried to force a
laugh or a jeer, because the Khalifa himself revelled in scenes of
useless bloodshed and cruelty, while in truth the whole population of
Omdurman secretly lamented it.
The bodies hung on the gallows for a day, so that everyone might see
them, whilst the mothers and sisters of those who had been mutilated on
the parade ground begged the Khalifa's permission to go to the spot and
see if any of their relatives were still alive; they were allowed to go,
and there they found a few still living; they dressed their bleeding
limbs and carried them on their backs to the market-place, where they
begged food for them.
Never shall I forget the face of one poor woman. With tearless eyes she
bore her mutilated son in her arms, and it would be hard to say which of
the two was suffering more--the mother or the son--the latter lifting up
his mutilated right arm while he rested his mutilated left leg on his
right to prevent anything striking the wounded stump.
It was indeed a shocking and pitiful sight. Several of the survivors of
Khartum would pass by these wretched people, and staring at their wounds
would shout out, "Have you forgotten Khartum?" Long after this I used to
see these poor creatures dragging themselves about in the market-place
begging for alms.
Soon after this the Khalifa pardoned the Batahin, and sent Ahmed Wad el
Bedri to try to persuade them to come and settle in Omdurman; eventually
they formed part of Nejumi's force, and were almost all killed at
Toski. Thus did God's vengeance overtake them for their untold cruelties
during the massacre in Khartum. It is said that the Khalifa has repented
of his wanton slaughter of this tribe.
After this, fear took possession of even the bravest, and no further
attempts at resistance were made; discontent was everywhere rife, not in
Omdurman only, but throughout the provinces, and even the Baggara, who
were favoured in every way, and given every possible advantage, longed
to return to their own country.
It is usual, when the day's work is done, for neighbours to collect
together in the lovely moonlight nights, for which the Sudan is so
famed, and talk over matters. The conversation always turns to politics;
the latest news from all directions is eagerly discussed, and often the
most unlikely and impossible stories are credited. The fact is that the
people long for freedom, and their smallest hopes become exaggerated
into not only possibilities, but certainties. The proverb, "El gharkan
yemsik fi shaaru" (_i.e._ "The drowning man catches at a
straw"--literally, a hair), is being continually exemplified. Talk also
turns much on what the Khalifa said and did, what he intends to do, what
has taken place in the last council, &c. But the Khalifa, fearing that
all these conversations might lead to conspiracies, ordered them to be
discontinued. But nevertheless they are still carried on secretly.
Near the market-place there lived a certain fiki named Abdel Nur (_i.e._
the slave of light--that is to say, the slave of the light of the
Prophet; though, when the Copts are called by this name, the reference
is to the light of the Redeemer). The fiki's neighbours used to assemble
in his house every evening, and of course the conversation always turned
on Mahdiism, and the Khalifa was abused freely. Abdel Nur would talk
more excitedly than the rest, and used to say that the Sudan no longer
formed part of Islam, that both the Khalifa and the Mahdi were
unbelievers, and this he proved by quotations from the sacred books.
All this was reported by a spy to the Khalifa, who at once despatched a
company of soldiers by whom the unsuspecting party were suddenly
surrounded and carried off to prison.
Early the following morning Abdel Nur was brought before the judges, who
asked him if he had really spoken against Mahdiism. Seeing that he was
now lost, he thought this a good opportunity, in the presence of such a
large audience, to prove his assertion; he declared that the true Mahdi
should not die in Omdurman, and that true Mahdiism would not be confined
to the Sudan alone; that the people having been once deceived, the paths
of wickedness should be avoided, the paths of truth followed, and the
oppression of the Moslems abandoned once and for all.
The judges, who in their own hearts were convinced of the truth of Abdel
Nur's assertions, were unable to browbeat him, whilst all those who
listened had little doubt in their own minds of the truth of the
statements of this outspoken man, but fear of the Khalifa intervened to
stop them from admitting their convictions. One of the judges at length
stood up, and, desiring to make an end of this dangerous and humiliating
position, said to Abdel Nur: "We are with the Prophet, the Mahdi, and
his Khalifa; are you with us or not?" The fiki replied, "I am not with
you," whereupon the Khalifa sentenced him to death, and at ten o'clock
the same morning his body was dangling from the gallows; his friends
were not executed, but were severely reprimanded.
This execution was so sudden and unexpected that everyone was asking
what his crime could have been, but the Khalifa was careful to send
spies to all quarters to spread false reports about him, to the effect
that he was an unbeliever and a magician; these spies were also told to
ascertain exactly what the people said, but the latter knew they were
being watched, so they said nothing and retired; the spies set fire to
the fiki's clothes, and the next morning reported to the Khalifa that
hell-fire had burnt them up.
But the matter was not ended here; according to the Moslem law, if an
unbeliever be discovered, all his neighbours within a forty yards'
radius are considered guilty, and their houses may be plundered and
destroyed. This law was carried out in the fiki's case, and several
families with all their goods were dragged off to the beit el mal, while
their homes were occupied by the soldiers; several men were threatened
with the gallows, and there was a good deal of disturbance in the town.
The Khalifa's adherents were shouting, "Away with these unbelievers!"
Several suspected persons were seized and kept for three days in
continual fear of death.
On the third day several of the wives and families came to the Khalifa
and begged his forgiveness, throwing dust on their heads and making
every show of Oriental grief. On this occasion the Khalifa thought it
was sufficient to thoroughly frighten them all, so on the expiration of
the three days he released them and returned their property. He took
this opportunity of giving an order that it was the duty of every one to
report to him any fiki who was in the habit of writing amulets; spies
and informers soon produced numbers of such fikis, who only saved their
lives by making most solemn promises to the Khalifa that they would
never again be guilty of this disobedience of orders.
On another occasion a boat-boy was accused of having said something
against Mahdiism; he was hurried before the judge, confessed his crime,
and was then taken off to the parade-ground, where the Khalifa ordered
him to be beheaded. Ahmed el Talia was the executioner, but he made a
false stroke and only gashed the youth's shoulder, but with the second
blow the head was clean severed from the body.
Abdullah's jealousy and alarm for the safety of his kingdom now induced
him to turn his attention to Wad Adlan. As I have already narrated,
Adlan had rendered the Khalifa great services: he had put the beit el
mal in good order, had regulated the accounts on the old Government
system, and in order to increase the revenue without having recourse to
force, he had persuaded him to open trade with Egypt.
It had been the Khalifa's original idea to erect a sort of great wall of
China between Egypt and the Sudan, to prevent all ingress into his
newly-acquired dominions; but Adlan was a very tactful man, and by
degrees he induced the Khalifa to agree to his proposal. Ivory and gum
were declared to be the monopoly of the beit el mal. Ivory comes in
small quantities from Regaf and Lado, while gum, which is purchased by
the beit el mal for five dollars a hundredweight, is sold out by the
beit el mal to merchants for twenty dollars; the beit el mal will also
accept gum as payment in lieu of money. A lively trade soon sprang up
between Berber, Sawakin, Assuan, and Korosko; and Omdurman merchants
were allowed to come to Sawakin and purchase goods; the beit el mal made
considerable profits, and the people were less oppressed than before.
Thus did Adlan render a great service to the inhabitants of the Sudan,
and through his influence many of the cruel measures of the Khalifa were
altered. As long as he was in charge of the beit el mal he was very
popular with all, the capital was in good hands, the markets throve, and
even when the funds in the exchequer were low he had no difficulty in
raising loans from rich merchants on payment of bills of exchange.
Usually a loan of 5,000 to 6,000 dollars could be raised between fifteen
or twenty merchants with ease, because of the feeling of security which
Adlan's presence induced. The white people also owe him a deep debt of
gratitude, for he gave them continuous protection.
On one occasion, when it was rumoured that the Sudan was to be invaded
by Egypt, the Khalifa proposed separating all the whites and scattering
them amongst the Arabs in various parts of the country, but Adlan
impressed upon him the necessity of retaining them all under his own eye
in Omdurman, and thereby he rendered us an immense service; his main
idea was to lighten the Mahdiist yoke and relieve the oppression of the
people.
But this growing contentment gradually began to be displeasing to
Abdullah, whose main object was to reduce every one to poverty and to
enrich his own tribe, the Baggara; thus his and Adlan's views frequently
clashed, but Adlan was most prudent, and knew when to give way. What
displeased the Khalifa most was to see numbers of people assembling
every morning outside Adlan's door waiting for him to go to the beit el
mal, where they would lay their complaints before him.
The honour they paid and the praises they heaped upon him excited the
Khalifa's jealousy, and the latter frequently rebuked him sharply; but
he took no notice of these outbursts, and in a fit of anger he was, on
one occasion, thrown into chains for fourteen days. On his release Adlan
now thought that the Khalifa could not get on without him, and began to
show less submission to his master's will than before. This still
further widened the breach between him and Abdullah, which was made
worse by Adlan's many enemies, who envied him his high position.
The Khalifa's brother Yakub was his most dangerous rival, as Adlan's
popularity had rather detracted from his authority. He and others
represented him to the Khalifa as a dangerous man, who might at any
moment bring his influence to bear in direct opposition to the Khalifa.
It is therefore not to be wondered at that Abdullah grew suspicious, and
one day, when Adlan was presenting his daily report, the Khalifa took
occasion to tell him that he was far from pleased with him, and blamed
him for his delay in sending corn to the starving Dervishes in Dongola.
Adlan answered: "What can I do? The people won't have Mahdiism any
longer, and that is why I meet with so much opposition." Some say that
he even said much more than this; but the Khalifa was not accustomed to
be talked to in this way, so he ordered Adlan to give up his sword, and
the same night he sent him to prison. This gave his rivals ample
occasion to speak against him, and Yakub insisted that he should suffer
death.
Adlan was very heavily chained, and forbidden all intercourse with the
outside world. His arrest did not at first create much excitement, but
this was due to the many false reports which were circulated regarding
the cause. On the following day it was announced that he might have to
suffer death, on the third day this sentence was confirmed, and a
messenger was sent to Adlan to ask him if he had any choice between
being hanged or having his hand and foot cut off. Adlan chose the
former.
To the beating of war-drums and the sound of the onbeïa, he was led,
with his hands bound, to the market-place. Here numbers of Baggara
horsemen formed a square round the scaffold, and Adlan, escorted by a
guard, entered the square with firm footsteps. When he reached the foot
of the gallows, the judge called on him to repeat the Shahada or Moslem
creed, which he did with a clear voice, then jumped on to the angarib,
adjusted the noose himself, which Bringi pulled taut, and he swung into
space, whilst at the same instant the Baggaras drew their swords and
flourished them in the air, to signify that a like fate would surely
befall all the Khalifa's enemies. But grief was read on every face, and
never before had there been such heartfelt lamentations in Omdurman.
Ibrahim Wad Adlan was a most intelligent Sudanese, with black face and
aquiline nose. He was about thirty-five years of age.
After his body had been suspended for half-an-hour, Yakub, accompanied
by several others, took it down, and laid it out on the angarib; the
bystanders say that Yakub could not conceal his look of half repentance,
half terror, as he gazed on the corpse of his victim. It was wrapped in
a cotton shroud, and taken to the cemetery outside the city, where it
was buried, Yakub leading the procession. That night robbers pulled out
the body and stole the clothes in which it was laid, leaving the corpse
on the sand to be food for hyenas.
The Khalifa's reason for sending Yakub to attend Adlan's funeral could
not well be misunderstood, for every one knew that Yakub had been the
prime instigator in securing his condemnation; and yet Abdullah was
short-sighted enough to imagine that in thus sending his brother he
might to some extent dissipate the bad impression which Adlan's
execution had created.
The mourning for Adlan was both general and sincere; during his whole
administration he had done no harm to anyone; he had done his utmost to
smooth over difficulties and lighten oppression, and I can confidently
affirm that he is the only man of whom this can be said, for, as a rule,
Sudanese who rise to positions of power and authority invariably become
most cruel and arbitrary.
Now what good could this execution have done for Mahdiism? No doubt the
Khalifa thought to justify himself in the public estimation, because
Adlan was too popular, but the real reason was, that the Khalifa feared
him, for he knew that his justice and prudence had made him beloved by
the people.
With the one exception that Adlan had opened commerce with Egypt,
chiefly through the secret intermediary of a former Khartum merchant
named Abdel Majid, I do not believe there was anything else against him.
It was said that letters had been found, purporting to have been written
by Adlan, in which he had begged the Egyptian Government to retake
possession of the Sudan; but this statement, had it been true, would
have been announced far and wide by the Khalifa; this, however, had not
been done, and it was generally agreed that it was entirely fear on the
Khalifa's part which prompted him to take Adlan's life.
All his property was confiscated, and his friends persecuted. Some of
the latter, after his death, remembered that he had told them how, when
studying in Cairo, an old woman had foretold that he would die a violent
death. For long he paid little attention to this prophecy; but during
the siege of El Obeid, he called it to mind, and thought it would
perhaps be fulfilled there. But when he eventually rose to high position
in Omdurman, he used to laugh at the old woman's saying. However,
during his last imprisonment, he had been firmly convinced it would come
true, and that was what made him so bold and firm when he actually came
to look death in the face.
In place of Adlan, the Khalifa nominated his relative Ez Zaki, now Emir
of Berber; but he fell ill shortly afterwards, and resigned. The Khalifa
then appointed Nur el Gereifawi (that is, a native of Gereif, near
Khartum). He had been in charge of the beit el mal at Berber; as Nur was
an intimate friend of Adlan's, it was thought that he might suffer a
like fate, but he was a crafty individual, and had sent the Khalifa
30,000 dollars, which he knew would have the desired effect.
On arrival at Omdurman he stood by the great gate to see the Khalifa;
but Abdullah did not summon him that evening, so he lay that night on
the ground beside the Khalifa's door--an act of humility which quite won
his heart--and the next morning Nur was officially appointed Adlan's
successor. In order to thoroughly impress Nur with the dangers of his
new situation, the Khalifa announced to him that on the previous night
he had beheld a vision, in which he had seen hell, and Ibrahim Adlan
suffering untold agonies in the lowest abyss, with a long chain fastened
round his neck; Nur was shackled to the other end of the chain, and
Adlan was trying to drag him down into the abyss; but the Khalifa had
unfastened the chain and released him.
Thus was Nur completely overawed, and did his utmost to comply with the
Khalifa's and Yakub's wishes. He discharged all the Copts employed in
the beit el mal, and replaced them by blacks. Awad, formerly head clerk
of the Kassala Mudirieh, he appointed as his assistant, and through his
astuteness and knavery he lost no opportunity of forcibly extracting
money from the people.