EMIN PASHA.--A STUDY.
The Relief of David Livingstone compared with the Relief of Emin
Pasha--Outline of the journey of the Expedition to the first
meeting with Emin--Some few points relating to Emin on which we had
been misinformed--Our high conception of Emin Pasha--Loyalty of the
troops, and Emin’s extreme indecision--Surprise at finding Emin a
prisoner on our third return to the Nyanza--What might have been
averted by the exercise of a little frankness and less reticence on
Emin’s part--Emin’s virtue and noble desires--The Pasha from our
point of view--Emin’s rank and position in Khartoum, and gradual
rise to Governor of Equatoria--Gordon’s trouble in the
Soudan--Emin’s consideration and patience--After 1883 Emin left to
his own resources--Emin’s small explorations--Correctness of what
the Emperor Hadrian wrote of the Egyptians--The story of Emin’s
struggles with the Mahdi’s forces from 1883 to 1885--Dr. Junker
takes Emin’s despatches to Zanzibar in 1886--Kabba Rega a declared
enemy of Emin--The true position of Emin Pasha prior to his relief
by us, showing that good government was impossible--Two documents
(one from Osman Digna, and the other from Omar Saleh) received from
Sir Francis Grenfell, the Sirdar.
Now that we have actually turned our backs to the Equatoria, and are
“homeward bound” with Emin Pasha, Captain Casati, and a few hundreds of
fugitives in company, let us look back upon the late events, and try to
discover the causes of them, and in what light we may truthfully regard
the late governor.
When I was commissioned, while yet a very young man, for the relief of
David Livingstone, the missionary, I had no very fixed idea as to what
manner of man he was. The newspapers described him as worthy of the
Christian world’s best regard; privately men whispered strange things of
him. One, that he had married an African princess, and was comfortably
domiciled in Africa; another, that he was something of a misanthrope,
and would take care to maintain a discreet distance from any European
who might be tempted to visit him. Not knowing whom to believe, I
proceeded to him with indifference, ready to take umbrage, but I parted
from him in tears. The newspapers were right in his case.
In the instance of Emin Pasha, the newspapers, inspired by travellers
who were supposed to know him, described a hero, a second Gordon, a
tall, military-looking figure, austere in manners, an amateur in many
sciences, who, despite the universal misfortune hovering over a large
part of North-Central Africa, maintained evenness of mind, tranquillity
of soul, and governed men and things so well that he was able to keep
the Mahdi and his furious hordes at bay; that he had defeated his
generals several times, but that so severe and desperate had been his
resistance that he had almost exhausted his means. Like my personal
friends, who so generously subscribed the money for this expedition, it
filled me with pity to hear all this, as it filled the hearts of such
men as Stairs, Jephson, Nelson, Parke, Barttelot, Jameson, and many
hundreds of eager applicants for membership. Junker said his danger was
imminent; that the Pasha must yield before the overwhelming forces
arrayed against him, if not soon relieved. We seemed to feel that it was
true. On board the steamer while at sea, and during our journey up the
Congo, within the camp at Yambuya, while pressing on through the sullen
shades of the endless forest, until we stood on the verge of the
plateau--nay, until we stood on the shore of the Nyanza, the one fear
that had possessed us was that, notwithstanding every effort, we should
be also too late. Then only, when the natives on the Lake side averred,
to our eager and insistent enquiries, that they knew of no white man or
steamer being on the Lake, were we tempted to utter our suspicions. But
it was yet too early to declaim; the overland couriers from Zanzibar
might have been delayed, the steamer may have foundered soon after
Junker’s departure, and Emin may have been unable to reach the
south-west end of the Lake.
After an absence of nearly four months we were again on the Lake shore.
There were letters awaiting us from him. He had heard a rumour by
accident of our arrival, and had steamed down to the south-west end of
the Lake to verify it. It was only nine hours distant from his
southernmost station, and this had been his first visit. The effect was
excellent, but it was a great pity that he had not conformed to the
request sent by couriers at so much expense from Zanzibar. For the mere
number of lives saved it would have been better; we will say nothing of
the fatigue and suffering endured by us during the four months, for we
were vowed to that, and to the uttermost that he would demand and our
mission would exact. Still we said nothing.
We were twenty-six days together after the meeting. During this period
we discovered that on some few points we had been misinformed. The Pasha
was not a tall military figure, nor was he by any means a Gordon. He was
simply Emin Pasha, with a greatness peculiar to himself. He was like
unto none that we had met before, but he was like unto some, perhaps,
that we had read of.
We knew nothing positively detracting from our high conception of him.
What we saw was entirely in his favour. We witnessed what we conceived
to be a high state of discipline among the troops; we saw the steamers,
and the admirable state they were in; we thought we saw evidences of a
strong civilising and ruling influence; we obtained specimens of the
cloth his people had manufactured out of cotton grown by themselves; we
had a plentiful supply of liquor distilled from fermented millet; he was
exquisitely clean in person; prim, precise, withal courteous in manner;
he was extremely kind and affable, accomplished in literature, an
entertaining conversationalist, a devoted physician, an altogether
gentle man, whom to know was to admire. Had we parted with him at this
time we should have come away from his presence simply charmed with him.
No, decidedly he was not a Gordon; he differed greatly from Gordon in
some things--as, for example, in his devotion to science, in his careful
attention to details, in his liberal and charitable views of men and
things, in his high desire to elevate and instruct men in practical
usefulness, and his noble hopefulness of the land which was the scene of
his efforts.
But while we admired him, a suspicion fixed itself in our minds that
there was something inexplicable about him. He sent a clerk and an
Egyptian lieutenant to speak with me. To my amazement they roundly
abused him. Each word they uttered they emphasized with hate and
indescribable scorn.
Then a Soudanese captain related to me the story of a revolt of the 1st
Battalion which had taken place soon after Dr. Junker had parted from
him. He had fled from their neighbourhood, and had never been near them
since. But the 2nd Battalion, 650 rifles, was faithful to him, it was
said, so were the irregulars, 3000 in number. These formed a very
respectable force. So long as the 2nd Battalion and the irregulars were
loyal his position was still firm.
Then the major and several captains of the 2nd Battalion were introduced
by him to me. After a while he said to the major, “Now, promise me,
before Mr. Stanley, that you will grant me forty men for this little
station that Mr. Stanley advises us ought to be built.” That is curious,
too, for a Governor, I thought, and, try how I might to avoid reflecting
upon it as a trifle, its strangeness reverted often to my mind. But, in
the absence of frank information, it remained inexplicable.
Then, again, it struck us all that an extreme indecision marked the
Pasha’s conduct. Of course, as we were unable to explain it, our
sympathies undoubtedly were with him. We did not consider the 1st
Battalion, but if the 2nd Battalion and the irregulars were all loyal to
him, and were yet firm in their resolution to remain in the country, it
would have required a heart of stone to have abandoned them. That the
few Egyptians who were involved in restless intrigue against him wished
to go home was of no importance. The Pasha led us to believe that he
would be glad of their departure. But if the majority of the troops were
loyal, and preferred Equatoria to Egypt, and he loved his work, where
then was the cause of indecision?
If Egypt intended to cast him off, what matter need it be to him? Here
was this offer of £12,000 annual subsidy, and £1500 salary to reimplace
Egypt.
Or if Egypt only was objectionable, and another portion of Equatoria
under English auspices would be preferable, there was the alternative
with superior advantages of regular communication and certain support.
When speaking of the troops--the 2nd Battalion and irregulars--Emin
Pasha was confident in their loyalty, and always stout in his
declarations that they would follow him if he elected to serve under
English auspices in Equatoria. He also said that it was by far the most
preferable offer made to him. Well, then, admitting that the troops are
loyal to him, that they would follow him anywhere, and that the offer is
agreeable to himself--why this indecision?
We were compelled to retrace that weary journey to Banalya, and
returning to Fort Bodo to make double marches thence to the Ituri, and
arriving at the Nyanza for the third time, after an absence of eight and
a half months, we discovered that the object of our solicitude was a
prisoner, and that all the troops reputed loyal, and in whom he had such
implicit faith, were rebels, and had deposed him! This news was a
painful shock and a grievous surprise to us. But was it a surprise to
him?
When we come to glance over his letters, and study them with the
knowledge we now have, it transpires that in many of them he hints at
troubles and dissensions among his troops, but led by his sanguine
optimistic nature they were regarded too slightingly by us. People at
home believed that they were but temporary ebullitions of discontent. We
in Africa knew only that the 1st Battalion were implicated. Dr. Junker
had not even deemed them of sufficient importance to mention--he only
expressed a doubt that Emin would abandon his civilising mission and
relegate himself to a useless life in Egypt as a retired Pasha, hence
the doubt implied in the Khedive’s letter: “You may take advantage of
Mr. Stanley’s escort, if you please; if you decline doing so, you remain
in Africa on your own responsibility.” But Mr. Jephson, who is
associated with Emin during our absence, no sooner finds himself within
the military circles of the Province than it strikes him that the Pasha
has kept us in ignorance of the “true state of affairs.” The
dissatisfaction of Mr. Jephson culminates when he finds himself a
prisoner, and finds leisure to ponder upon the unhappy prospect of being
paraded through the streets of Khartoum as the Khalifa’s syce, or slave,
and my own may be forgiven when I find by indisputable proofs that this
might have been averted by the exercise of a little frankness and less
reticence on the Pasha’s part.
For had the Pasha informed me that he could not lead his troops to
Egypt, nor accept the subsidy and pay offered him, nor accept the
position under English auspices, because his troops had long ago cast
off all allegiance and had become chronically disloyal, and that he
really could not depend upon any one company of them, something else
might have been proposed. It could not have been a difficult matter to
have attacked every station in detail and reduced one after another to a
wholesome dread of authority. It needed only firmness and resolution on
the part of the Pasha. Had we begun at Mswa we should have found sixty
soldiers led by Shukri Agha, who has as yet not been implicated in any
disloyal act. These could have been embarked with our 300 on board the
steamer, and we could have advanced upon Tunguru. In thirty minutes that
station might have been settled, the disobedient shot, and marching with
the prestige of authority and victory, Wadelai would have succumbed
without the loss of a man except the ringleaders; and the other
stations, hearing of these successive measures, would soon have been so
terrified that we should have heard of nothing but capitulation
everywhere. The Madhi’s troops being at one end of the line of stations
and a resolute column advancing from the other end, these rebels would
have had no other option than surrender to one or the other.
But supposing that such a course had been adopted, of what avail, we may
well ask, would all this have been? Emin Pasha has been reinstalled in
his power and we must of necessity retire. What, then? In a few months
he is again in terrible straits for want of resources, and another call
for £30,000 and a new expedition is made to be repeated year after year,
at immense cost of life and immense sacrifices; for a land so distant
from the sea, and surrounded by warlike peoples and other disadvantages,
that were its soil of silver dust it would scarcely pay the transport.
Yet if Emin Pasha had expressed his desire to embark upon such an
enterprise, and been firm in his resolution, it was not for us to
question the wisdom of his proceeding, but to lend the right hand and
act with good-will.
Was it a delusion on the Pasha’s part, or was it his intention to
mislead us? I believe it was the former, caused by his extraordinary
optimism and his ready faith in the external show or affectation of
obedience. Even the crafty Egyptians had become penetrated with a high
sense of their power by the facility with which they gained pardon for
offences by ostentatious and obsequious penitence. Is this too harshly
worded? Then let me say in plain Anglo-Saxon, that I think his good
nature was too prone to forgive, whenever his inordinate self-esteem was
gratified. The cunning people knew they had but to express sorrow and
grief to make him relent, and to kiss his hands to cause him to forget
every wrong. There was therefore too little punishing and too much
forgiving. This amiability was extremely susceptible and tender, and the
Egyptians made the most of it. The Yakeel had cause to bless it. Awash
Effendi, major of the 2nd Battalion, suggested to the rebels, by a
letter which I believe the Pasha still possesses, that he should be made
the Mudir instead Emin, yet the Pasha never even reproached him. Azra
Effendi declared the Khedive’s letter to be forgery, but never a rebuke
passed the lips of the Pasha, and Azra was conducted to the sea safely.
The virtues and noble desires for which we must in strict justice
commend the man are as great and as creditable to him as those which we
cannot attribute to him. Any man striving for the sake of goodness to do
what in him lies to deserve the sweet approval of conscience becomes
armoured with a happy indifference of all else, and herein lies the
Pasha’s merit, and which made his company so grateful to us when the
necessity for violent action ceased to vex him. We learned more of his
character from his manner than from words. That melancholy shake of the
head, the uplifted hand, the composed calm gravity of features, the
upturning eyes, and the little shrug, seemed to say to us, “What is the
use? You see I am resigned. I am adverse to violence; let it be. Why
force them? They surely ought to have seen during these many years that
I sought only their welfare. If they reject me, ought I to impose myself
and my ideas on them against their will?” He never admitted so much, but
we are free to construe these symptoms according to our lights.
It is probable that his steady and loving devotion to certain pursuits
tending to increase of knowledge, and the injured eyesight, unfitted him
for the exercise of those sterner duties which appeared to us the
circumstances of his sphere demanded. But then we cannot blame him
because he loved scientific studies more than the duties of government,
or because his tastes led him to value the title of M.D. higher than the
rank of Pasha, or because he was in danger through a cataract of losing
his eyesight altogether. If the page of a book had to be brought within
two inches of his face it was physically impossible for him to observe
the moods on a man’s face, or to judge whether the eyes flashed scorn or
illumined loyalty.
Whatever may have been our own views of what ought to have been done we
have always a high respect for him. We cannot, at a moment when his own
fate lies trembling on the balance, but admire him when we see him
availing himself of every opportunity to increase his store of
lacustrine shells, or tropic plants, eager for the possession of a
strange bird without regard to its colour or beauty, as ready to examine
with interest a new species of rat as he is in the measurements of a
human skull. If a great hawk-moth or a strange longicorn, or a typhlops
be brought to him, he forthwith forgets the court-martial that is to
decide his sentence, and seems to be indifferent whether he is to be
summoned to be shot by his soldiery or to be strapped on his _angarep_
to be deported as a prize to the Khalifa at Khartoum. When we learn all
this about him, and begin to understand him, though wondering at these
strange vagaries of human nature, we are only conscious that the man is
worth every sacrifice on our part.
We cannot proceed by force to save him from himself, and rudely awake
him out of his dream, without his permission. His position forbids
it--our commission does not require it. To us he is only an honoured
guest expectant, to whom rudeness is out of place. Without request for
help, we are helpless.
From our point of view we observe the Pasha, serene and tranquil,
encircled by wrangling rebels, and yet all along apparently unconscious
of the atmosphere of perfidy in which he lives--at least more inclined
to resignation than resistance. We feel that were we in his place, we
would speedily upset every combination against us, and are confident
that only one short resolute struggle is necessary to gain freedom and
power. But regarding him absorbed in his delusion that the fawning
obsequiousness of his perfidious followers and troops means devotion,
and seeing him enmeshed by treachery and fraud, and yet so credulous as
to believe this to be fidelity, we are struck dumb with amazement, and
can but turn our eyes towards one another, questioning and wondering.
For it was our misfortune, that, say what we would, we could not inspire
in him a sense of our conviction that his case was hopeless, and that
his people had cast him off utterly. We could not tell him that his men
looked down on him with contempt as a “bird collector,” that they
thought he showed more interest in beetles than in men; that they only
paid him the externals of homage because they thought he was pleased and
satisfied. We could not tell him all this; but Nelson, who hated deceit,
would tell him in plain, blunt terms, that he was wrong in his beliefs,
and Parke would discourage them; and Jephson would argue with him, and
Stairs would give him open proof. But as often as these energetic young
Englishmen, out of pure friendship and pity, would attempt to warn him,
the Pasha was prompt to extenuate their offences, and excuse the malice
exhibited by his officers, and discouraged the efforts of his friends.
What each felt on returning from one of these profitless interviews had
better be left unwritten.
He would say, “But I know my people better than you can possibly know
them. I have thirteen years’ acquaintance with them, against as many
weeks that you have.”
The retort which we might have given to him was crushed under a silent
fuming, for he was still the Pasha! We might have said, “Aye; but,
Pasha, you know, you find more interest in insects than in men. You are
interested in the anatomy of a man, we in the soul. You know something
of his skull, but we can feel the pulse, and we are certain that your
faith in these men is misplaced, and that in the excess of this faith
lies folly.”
Yet in the fervour of his belief in their imaginary fidelity, and the
warmth of his manner, there was a certain nobility which deterred us
from argument. His unwarying trustfulness was not convincing; but it
deepened our regard for him, and it may be that he imbued us with a hope
that, though invisible to us, there remained some good in them.
We dare not treat these features of a trustful, loving nature like that
of Emin Pasha with an insolent levity. He is a man, as I have said,
eminently lovable, and were it only for the pleasure we have oftentimes
received in his society, he deserves that what may be said of him shall
be delivered with charity at least. For the high though impossible hopes
entertained by him, and for the strenuous industry with which he
endeavoured to realize them, he deserves the greatest honour and
respect.
If we will only consider the accident which brought him to Khartoum, and
the rank and position he then filled, and the manner he rose from doctor
to storekeeper at Lado, to that of Governor of African Equatoria, we
need not wonder that his nature and taste remained unchanged. The story
of Gordon’s trouble in the Soudan has never been written, and it never
will be. Gordon is a name that English people do not care to examine and
define too closely. Otherwise, I should like to know why there were so
few English officers with him. I should be curious to discover why such
as had an opportunity of working with him did not care to protract their
stay in the Soudan. I am inclined to believe by my own troubles on the
Congo that his must have been great--perhaps greater; that not one of
the least of his troubles must have been the difficulty of finding good,
fit, serviceable, and willing men. In Emin Pasha he meets with a man
who, though a German and a doctor of medicine, is industrious, civil,
ready, and obliging. Had I met Emin on the Congo, those qualities would
have endeared him to me, as they must have been appreciated by Gordon.
Those qualities are much rarer than editors of newspapers imagine. Out
of three hundred officers on the Congo, I can only count ten who
possessed them, who by mere request would seize on their duties with
goodwill, and perform them. How many did Gordon have? Emin was one of
the best and truest.
Now Emin loved botanizing, ornithology, entomology, studied geology,
made notes upon ethnology, and meteorology, and filled note-book after
note-book with his observations, and at the same time did not neglect
his correspondence. I know the courtesy with which he would write to
the Governor-General. I can imagine how the latter would be pleased with
receiving these letters--precise, careful, methodical, and polite.
Therefore Emin is pushed on in his African career from storekeeper to
chief of station, then envoy to Uganda, then offered a secretaryship,
then envoy of Gordon, then vice-king to the astute and subtle Kabba
Rega, and finally Governor of Equatoria.
In the course of his promotions, Emin shows he is ambitious. He wants
seeds for the fields; he applies to Gordon for them, and his reply is,
“I don’t want you for a gardener; I sent you to govern. If you don’t
like it, come away.” A proud young Englishman would have taken him at
his word, descended the Nile, and parted with Gordon sulkily. Emin sent
an apology, and wrote, “Very good, sir.” Later, Emin sent for a
photograph apparatus, and receives, “I sent you to the Equatorial
Provinces as governor, not as photographer.” Emin says in reply, “Very
well, sir. I thank you, sir. I will do my duty.” Nor does he bother the
Governor-General with complaints that he never gets his mails in due
time, or of the provisions sent there to him. What a valuable man he
was! He showed consideration and patience, and Gordon appreciated all
this.
By-and-by came trouble. After 1883 he is left to his own resources. The
people obey the Governor mechanically, and stations are building, and a
quiet progress is evident. They do not know yet how soon that Cromwell
at Khartoum may not ascend the Nile to Lado, and examine into the state
of affairs with his own eyes. Emin Bey, their Governor, is a very mild
ruler; that other one at Khartoum is in the habit of shooting mutineers.
Therefore, though there are many Arabists, and many inclined to that new
prophet, the Mahdi, among the troops of Emin, they are quiet. But
presently news leak that Khartoum is fallen, and Gordon slain, and all
power and stern authority prostrate; then comes the upheaval--the revolt
of the First Battalion and the flight of Emin to his more faithful
Irregulars and the Second Battalion, and finally universal dissolution
of the government. But Emin’s tastes and nature remain unchanged.
There are some things, however, I have wondered at in Emin. I have
already observed that he was earnest and industrious in making
observations upon plants, insects, birds, manners and customs, so that
he was well equipped for geographical exploration; but I was somewhat
staggered when I learned that he had not explored Lake Albert. He
possessed two steamers and two life-boats, and one station at the
north-west end of the Lake called Tunguru, and another called Mswa,
half-way up the west side; and yet he had never visited the southern end
of the Lake, examined the affluent at the south side, sounded the Lake
from the north to south and east to west; never visited the Ituri River,
which was only two days’ good marching from Mswa. Had he done so he
would probably have seen the snowy range and left very little for us to
discover in that district. He had been to Monbuttu Land on business of
his province, where he had vast stores of ivory treasured; he had sent
soldiers to the edge of Turkan territory; he had been twice to Uganda
and once to Unyoro; but he had never stepped on board his steamer for a
visit to the south end of the Lake until March, 1888, when he came to
enquire into a report concerning our arrival, and then he had steamed
back again to his stations.
The Emperor Hadrian wrote of the Egyptians that he found them “frivolous
and untrustworthy, fluttering at every wave of rumour, and were the most
revolutionary, excitable and criminal race in existence.”
Had he been present in our camp during our tedious sojourn at Kavalli’s,
could he have written differently? The revolutionary character disclosed
to us compel us to endorse this description as perfect truth.
“Frivolous” we know them to be to our cost. “Untrustworthy:” were ever
men so faithless as these? “Fluttering at every wave of rumour:” our
camp bred rumours as the ground bred flies; there were as many as the
chirpings of an aviary; the least trifle caused them to flutter like a
brood from under the mother bird. A mail from Wadelai caused them to run
gadding from one circle to another, from hut to hut, from the highest to
the lowest, emulating the cackle of many hens. “Revolutionary:”--“Up
with Arabi!” “Vive le Mahdi!” “Hurrah for Fadl el Mullah Bey!” “More
power to the elbow of Selim Bey Mator!” and “Down with all Governments!”
And thus they proved themselves an excitable, frivolous, untrustworthy,
and criminal race which required government by stern force, not by
sentiment and love.
But relieved from the dread of due penalty and the coercive arm of the
law by the fall of Khartoum and the death of the Governor-General, and
recognising that their isolation from Egypt gave them scope to follow
their vain imaginings, they were not long before they disclosed their
true characters, and revolted against every semblance of authority.
Happy was the Pasha, then, that the good record he had won in the
memories of his soldiers pleaded against the excesses to which their
unprincipled chiefs were inclined, which generally follows the ruin of
government.
These were the people--practised in dissimulation, adepts in deceit, and
pastured in vice--which this mild-mannered man, this student of science,
governed for several years all alone, before any outbreak among them
occurred. During this portion of his career as Governor of Equatoria
only unqualified praise can be given. The troops were not all seized
with the mania prevalent in the Soudan, to uproot every vestige of
authority.
To the north, west, and east gathered the Mahdists, barring all escape
by the Nile and cutting off all communication with Khartoum. On the 7th
of May, 1883, the first disaster occurs. Seventy soldiers are massacred
at El-del station who have been sent to reinforce the beleaguered
garrison, which, in its turn, is totally destroyed. On the 27th of
February, 1884, Lupton, the Governor of Bahr-el-Ghazal, informs him that
the rest of the inhabitants had rebelled, and on the 28th of the
following month he receives the news of the destruction of General
Hicks’s army. On the 8th of April, the news is brought that the tribes
of Waddiafen, Elyat, Eofen, Euknah, Kanel, and Fakam were in open
rebellion. On the 30th of May he is informed by Lupton Bey, Governor of
the Bahr-el-Ghazal, that the Mahdi is within six hours of his
headquarters, and had summoned him to surrender his authority and
province, and warning him to take immediate steps for his defence. Four
days later, Karamalla--who in the meantime, had been appointed Governor
of Equatoria by the Mahdi to fill his place--wrote to him to deliver up
his province to him. Lupton Bey had already been vanquished. A committee
of six officers having debated this serious matter, came to the
conclusion that Emin had no other option open to him than to surrender.
In order to gain time he expressed his willingness to conform with their
decision, and despatched the judge of their province with some other
officers with the declaration of his readiness to yield.[12]
But on the departure of the Commission, he set about fortifying the
stations in his charge, and prepared for resistance against Karamalla,
then fresh from the conquest of the Bahr-el-Ghazal. He concentrated
troops from the petty stations in the vicinity at Amadi station, and
strengthened that place against the expected attack of that proud chief,
and also gathered at headquarters a formidable force. At this critical
period he was able to weed out the most forward in their desire for
submission to the Mahdi, and to separate the loyal from the disloyal,
and vigorous orders were issued that traitors would meet with no mercy
at his hands if found communicating with the enemy. Arbeek, Ayak, and
Wafi Stations are abandoned, and the troops are gathered at Amadi. The
month following witnesses the struggle proceeding. Some of the principal
stations are so well defended that the Mahdists suffer repeated losses
of chiefs and men, while many of the Government officers have basely
abandoned their posts, and take service with Karamalla; but on the 27th
February, 1885, a month after the fall of Khartoum, the enemy has
surrounded Amadi on all sides, and a brisk siege is maintained. On the
first of April, after extraordinary efforts, the fall of Amadi is
announced, with great loss of life, ammunition, cannon, small arms, and
rockets. After hearing of this disaster, measures are taken for the
concentration of the force of the Province along the Nile, in order to
secure means of communication with Egypt _viâ_ Zanzibar, and Birri,
Kirri, Bedden and Rejaf stations are founded, and out of the soldiers
who have managed to escape with life from the many skirmishes and fights
in which they were engaged, during 1883, 1884, to this date (April 1885)
eight companies of eighty men each are formed, and called the First
Battalion, under the command of Major Rehan Agha Ibrahim. On the 1st of
June, after the small outlying stations have been abandoned, a
sufficient number of officers have been collected to form a second
Battalion, under the command of Major Awash Effendi Montazir, to whom
was given the command of the southern stations. In his despatch of 1st
September, 1885, to the Government of Egypt, we observe near the close
of it the first note of discontent with the Major of the First
Battalion. He says:
“The other thing that this major has done is his sending 200
soldiers when it was too late and when everything was finished,
which thing he did from want of decision and without asking my
permission to do so; for if the rebels were strong at first before
their capture of guns and ammunition, how much more so were they
after that. _But these disobediences have become a nature to these
persons, &c., &c._ But by the help of our merciful and great God,
and by the influence of our Government, and by the name of our
honourable Sovereign his Highness the Khedive, we were able to
preserve the honour of our Government flag up to this date.”
Yes, the honour of the Egyptian flag has been maintained, after the
shedding of “rivers of blood,” after the exhibition of noble
stout-heartedness, unabated courage, and a prudent Fabian generalship,
which dispirited the enemy and animated his troops; he has been able to
align his troops in stations well fenced and fortified, so that the
struggle may be prolonged until he can hear the wishes of his Highness
the Khedive, and sound his plaint in the ears of Europe _viâ_ Zanzibar.
It is the story of this brave struggle that enlisted the sympathy of
myself and companions, and caused us to press on by the back door of
Africa to lend a helping hand, to rescue him if necessary, or to supply
him with the means of defence if needed.
In April 1885 he learns “from the poor slave of God, Mohammed El Mahdi,
the son of Abdallah,” in a letter to his friend and Governor Karamalla,
the son of Sheik Mohammed, to whom may God grant etc., of the death of
“that enemy to God--Gordon,” and of the assault and capture of Khartoum,
and that all the Soudan from Lado down to Abu Hamad Cataract, is in the
hands of the Mahdists, and that from the north no hope of relief may be
expected. He examines his prospects and position to the south, east and
west. To the east is Kabba Rega, the King of Unyoro, and his tributary
chiefs. To him he sends Captain Casati as his representative or
ambassador. It is the policy of Kabba Rega to be kind to the Governor.
He knew him in past years as an officer of that active vice-king at
Khartoum, and was hospitable and friendly to him. He knows not as yet of
the wonderful changes that have come over that region of Africa, and is
ignorant of the ruin that had overtaken that proud Government which had
dictated laws to him. His African mind is too dense to grasp the meaning
of this new movement abreast of his territory, and therefore, fearing to
displease the Governor, he receives Captain Casati generously and with a
grand display of hospitality. By-and-by deserters approach him, cunning
Egyptians and treacherous Soudanese, with their arms and ammunition, and
bit by bit he discovers the meaning of that fierce struggle, and begins
to understand that the Government which he dreaded was a wreck.
On the 2nd of January, 1886, Dr. Junker is taken across the Albert Lake
to Kibiro, a port of Unyoro. He is on his way home after years of travel
in Monbuttu and the Welle basin. He succeeds in reaching Uganda, and
because of his poverty is permitted to embark in a mission boat and
proceeds to Usambiro, at the south end of Lake Victoria, and thence to
Zanzibar, taking with him the despatches of Emin. It is through this
traveller we first learn the real straits that the Pasha is in, and the
distresses in prospect for him.
Kabba Rega meanwhile is patient, like an heir-expectant. He knows that
eventually he must win. Day by day, week by week, he sits waiting. He
affects generosity to the Governor, permits letters to pass and repass
between Zanzibar and Equatoria, treats the Ambassador with due
consideration, and ostensibly he is a firm friend; so much so, that Emin
has “nothing but hearty praises of Kabba Rega.” But about the 13th
February, 1888, Kabba Rega wakes up. He hears of an Expedition close to
the Nyanza, and native exaggeration has magnified its means and numbers.
On or about the same date that the Relief Expedition is looking up and
down the waters of the Nyanza for evidences of a white man’s presence in
the region, Captain Casati is seized, his house robbed, and himself
expelled with every mark of ignominy and almost naked, and from this
time forth Kabba Rega is a declared enemy, having first sealed his
enmity in the blood of Mohammed Biri, who had been a trusted messenger
between Emin and the C.M.S. Mission in Uganda.
To the west there is a great broad white blank, extending from his
Province to the Congo, of which absolutely nothing is known. To the
south there is a region marked on the map by the same white emptiness,
and turn which way he will, with a people unequal to the task of cutting
their way out and dreading the unknown, he has no other option than
waiting to see the effect of the disclosures of Junker and his own
despatches.
But in the meantime he is not idle. By the defeat of the rebels and
Mahdists in Makkaraka he has compelled a truce, and is left undisturbed
by Karamalla. Beyond Wadelai he has established Tunguru and Mswa
stations, and though the First Battalion has long ago cast off his
authority, the Second Battalion and the Native Irregulars acknowledge,
after their way, his authority. He superintends agriculture, the
planting, raising, and manufacture of cotton, travels between station
and station, establishes friendship with the surrounding tribes, and by
his tact maintains the semblance of good government.
There are some things, however, he cannot do: he cannot undo the evil
already done; he cannot eradicate the evil dispositions of his men, nor
can he, by only the exercise of temperate justice, appease the evil
passions roused by the revolution in the Soudan. He can only postpone
the hour of revolt. For against his sole influence are arrayed the
influences of the officers of the First Battalion, of the hundreds of
Egyptian employés scattered over the whole length of the Province, who,
by their insidious counsels, reverse the effect of every measure taken
by the Pasha, and palsy every effort made by him. He cannot inaugurate,
by the expression of his wish, a new system of dealing with the natives.
The system has been established throughout the Soudan of exacting from
the natives every species of contribution--herds, flocks, grain, and
servants; or, whenever there is scarcity, of proceeding by force of arms
and taking what they need from the aborigines. And this need,
unfortunately, is insatiable; it has no limit. The officers cannot be
limited to a certain number; each has three or four wives, besides
concubines, and these require domestic servants for their households.
Fadl el Mulla Bey’s household requires a hundred slaves--men, women,
boys, and girls. The soldiers require wives, and these also must have
servants; and with the growth of the boys into manhood there grows new
needs, which the natives must satisfy with their women and children of
both sexes.
There are 650 men and officers in the First Battalion, and as many in
the Second Battalion. There are about 3,000 Irregulars; there is a
little army of clerks, storekeepers, artisans, engineers, captains, and
sailors. These must be wived, concubined, and fed by the natives, and in
return there is nothing given to them. We hear of 8,000 head of cattle
being collected on a raid; the Pasha admitted that 1,600 beeves and cows
was the greatest number during his government. But these raids are
frequent; each station must have herds of its own, and there are
fourteen stations. Shukri Agha, Commandant of Mswa, was indefatigable in
making these raids. Of course the Pasha found this state of things in
his Province. It was an old-established custom, a custom that weighs
with all the weight of fearful oppression on the natives; and,
embarrassed as he was by the advance of Karamalla and the disease of
rebellion that raged like an epidemic in the hearts of his own subjects,
he was powerless to restrain them. But we can understand why the
natives, who had been for so many years under Egyptian government,
hailed the appearance of the Mahdists, and joined them to exterminate
the panic-stricken fugitives from the captured forts of the Province.
When the Congo State forgets its duties to its subjects, and sanctions
rapine and raiding, we may rest assured that its fall will be as sudden
and as certain as that of the Egyptian Government in the Soudan.
I am not concerned in writing the history of this unhappy region, which
has been given up for years to be the prey of the vilest passions that
human nature is capable of feeling, but by these allusions to what I
personally know I am able to interest the reader in the true position of
Emin Pasha. This solitary man was engaged in as impossible a task as was
that of Gordon when he undertook and set out for Khartoum, in 1884, to
rescue the garrisons of the Soudan. He did brave things, but the bravest
portion of his story is when this earnest-minded man lives among these
lost people, and has to endure seeing his subjects robbed and despoiled
whenever any officer apprehends scarcity and resolves upon a raiding
expedition. He knows exactly what will happen; he knows there will be
indiscriminate shooting and looting, he knows there will be destruction
of villages and decimation of the owners; that with the captive herds
there will be long files of captive women and children, and a
distribution of the spoil; and yet he dares do nothing to thwart these
cruel and hard proceedings. How can he? He has no cloth or money to buy
food for all his people. What answer can he make when they demand of him
what they must do to live? Though the soil is gracious and repays
labour, it is useless for him to point to it. They will grow cotton to
clothe themselves, and cultivate gardens for kitchen vegetables, because
no native understands these things; but grain for bread, and cattle for
beef, the natives must yield to people nobler than themselves. He is the
only man who can think of this work as a wrong, and as he has no force
to compel men to think otherwise, he must needs endure this evil as he
endures many others. Good government was therefore impossible. It was
founded on blood and spoliation from the very beginning, and, like all
other Governments which preceded it, that were created with similar
views, it was decreed that it should perish utterly.
As a fitting conclusion to this chapter, I append the following
documents received from Sir Francis Grenfell, the Sirdar of Egypt. Those
who love to trace effects to causes may find in these documents
criminating proofs of that intercourse with the enemy which was
maintained by the rebel officers. They explain what I have asserted.
They prove conclusively that their object in proceeding to the Pasha at
Tunguru, and imploring his forgiveness, promising to reinstate him in
power, and begging him to introduce them to me, was for the purpose
consummating the vile plot of betraying us into the hands of the
Mahdists. Thanks to Jephson, who was “a chiel takin’ notes,” and to the
clumsiness of their acts, Omar Saleh did not have the satisfaction of
conveying that “other traveller who had come to Emin,” and whom he was
so anxious to catch, for exhibition at Khartoum--which he may possibly
regret more than I.
LETTER FROM OSMAN DIGNA TO THE GOVERNOR-GENERAL, SUAKIM.
“In the name of the Great God, &c.
“This is from Osman Digna to the Christian who is Governor of
Suakim. Let me inform you that some time ago Rundle sent me a
letter asking me of the man who was Governor in the Equatorial
Provinces. On the arrival of the said letter in our hands I sent it
at once to the Khalifa, on whom be peace, &c. The Khalifa has sent
me the answer, and has informed me that the said Governor of the
Equator has fallen into our hands, and is now one of the followers
of the Mahdi. The Khalifa sent steamers to the Equator, commanded
by one of our chiefs, named Omar Saleh. They reached Lado, and on
their arrival they found that the troops of the said Governor, who
were composed of military men and officers, had seized the
Governor, with a traveller who was with him. They put them in
chains and delivered them into the hands of our chief. Now all the
province is in our hands, and the inhabitants have submitted to the
Mahdi. We have taken the arms and ammunition which were there; we
also brought the officers and chief clerk to the Khalifa, who
received them kindly, and now they are staying with him. They have
handed to him all their banners.
“Therefore, as Rundle wishes to know what has become of this
Governor, you tell him of this message.
“I enclose a copy of the letter which our chief in the Equator sent
to the Khalifa, and also a copy of that which Tewfik had sent to
the said Governor.
“I also send you a dozen rounds of the ammunition, which were
brought from the Equator. I praise God for the defeat of the
unbeliever, and defeat of the infidels.
“Sealed”
“The ammunition sent was Snider ammunition, marked 1869, and is in very
good condition. Two letters were enclosed. The first of these is
recognised by his Excellency the Sirdar as being the one given to Mr.
Stanley by his Highness the Khedive on his departure from Cairo.”
“The second is a copy of a letter of Omar Saleh to the Khalifa, dated
15th October, 1888, and is as follows:--
“We proceeded with the steamers and army, and reached the town of
Lado, where Emin, the Mudir of the Equator, is staying, on the 5th
Safar, 1306 (10th October, 1888). We must thank the officers and
men who made this conquest easy, for they had seized Emin and a
traveller who was staying with him, and put them both in chains,
refusing to go to Egypt with the Turks.
“Tewfik had sent to Emin one of the travellers; his name is Mr.
Stanley. This Mr. Stanley brought with him a letter from Tewfik to
Emin, dated 8th Gamad Awal (the date of the Khedive’s letter),
telling him to come with Mr. Stanley, and give the rest of the
force the option of coming with him or remaining here, as they
please.
“The force refused the Turkish orders, and received us gladly. I
have found a great deal of ivory and feathers. I am sending with
this the officers and Chief Clerk on board the _Bordein_, commanded
by Mohammed Kheir. I am also sending the letter which came from
Tewfik to Emin, together with the banners we took from the Turks.
“I have heard that there is another traveller who came to Emin. I
am looking out for him, and if he returns I am sure to catch him.
“All the chiefs of the Province, with the inhabitants, are
delighted to see us. I have taken all the arms and ammunition. When
you have seen the officers and Chief Clerk, and given them the
necessary instructions, please send them back, as they will be of
great use to me.”
True copy.
(Sd.) T. R. WINGATE.
Kaim.
A. A. G. Intell.
W. O.
15/1/90.