=Source.=--Sir Reginald Wingate's _Mahdiism and the Egyptian
Soudan_, pp. 166-172. (Macmillans.)
Soon all that had been in the commissariat was finished, and
then the inhabitants and the soldiers had to eat dogs, donkeys,
skins of animals, gum, and palm fibre, and famine prevailed. The
soldiers stood on the fortifications like pieces of wood. The
civilians were even worse off. Many died of hunger, and corpses
filled the streets; no one had even energy to bury them.... We
were heartbroken; the people and soldiers began to lose faith in
Gordon's promises, and they were terribly weak from famine. At
last Sunday morning broke, and Gordon Pasha, who used always to
watch the enemy's movements from the top of the palace, noticed a
considerable movement in the south, which looked as if the Arabs
were collecting at Kalakala. He at once sent word to all of us who
had attended the previous meeting, and to a few others, to come at
once to the palace. We all came, but Gordon Pasha did not see us.
We were again addressed by Giriagis Bey, who said he had been told
by Gordon Pasha to inform us that he noticed much movement in the
enemy's lines, and believed an attack would be made on the town; he
therefore ordered us to collect every male in the town from the age
of eight, even to the old men, and to line all the fortifications,
and that if we had difficulty in getting this order obeyed we were
to use force. Giriagis said that Gordon Pasha now appealed to us
for the last time to make a determined stand, for in twenty-four
hours' time he had no doubt the English would arrive; but that if
we preferred to submit then, he gave the commandant liberty to open
the gates, and let all join the rebels. He had nothing more to
say. I then asked to be allowed to see the Pasha, and was admitted
to his presence. I found him sitting on a divan, and as I came in
he pulled off his tarboush (fez) and flung it from him, saying,
"What more can I say? I have nothing more to say; the people will
no longer believe me; I have told them over and over again that
help would be here, but it has never come, and now they must see I
tell them lies. If this, my last promise, fails, I can do nothing
more. Go and collect all the people you can on the lines, and make
a good stand. Now leave me to smoke these cigarettes." (There
were two full boxes of cigarettes on the table.) I could see he
was in despair, and he spoke in a tone I had never heard before.
I knew then that he had been too agitated to address the meeting,
and thought the sight of his despair would dishearten us. All the
anxiety he had undergone had gradually turned his hair to a snowy
white. I left him, and this was the last time I saw him alive....
It was a gloomy day, that last day in Khartoum; hundreds lay dead
and dying in the streets from starvation, and there were none to
bury them. At length the night came, and, as I afterwards learnt,
Gordon Pasha sat up writing till midnight, and then lay down to
sleep. He awoke some time between two and three a.m. The wild
war-cries of the Arabs were heard close at hand. A large body of
rebels had crept in the dark close up to the broken-down parapet
and filled-up ditch, between the White Nile and the Messalamieh
Gate. The soldiers never knew of the enemy's approach until about
twenty minutes before they were actually attacked, when the tramp
of feet was heard, and the alarm was sounded; but they were so
tired out and exhausted that it was not until the sentries fired
that the rest of the men suddenly started up surprised, to find
swarms of Arabs pouring over the ditch and up the parapet, yelling
and shouting their war-cries. Here they met with little resistance,
for most of the soldiers were four or five paces apart, and were
too feeble to oppose such a rush. The Arabs were soon within the
lines, and thus able to attack the rest of the soldiers from
behind. They were opposed at some points, but it was soon all
over.... Meanwhile Gordon Pasha, on being roused by the noise,
went on to the roof of the palace in his sleeping clothes. He soon
made out that the rebels had entered the town, and for upwards of
an hour he kept up a hot fire in the direction of the attack. I
heard that he also sent word to get up steam in the steamer, but
the engineer was not there; he had been too frightened to leave his
house. As dawn approached Gordon Pasha could see the Arab banners
in the town, and soon the gun became useless, for he could not
depress it enough to fire on the enemy. By this time the Arabs had
crowded round the palace in thousands, but for a time no one dared
enter, for they thought mines were laid to blow them up. Meanwhile
Gordon Pasha had left the roof; he went to his bedroom, which was
close to the divan, and there he put on a white uniform, his sword,
which he did not draw, and, carrying his revolver in his right
hand, stepped out into the passage in front of the entrance to the
office, and just at the head of the staircase. During this interval
four men, more brave than the rest, forced their way into the
palace, and once in were followed by hundreds of others. Of these
latter, the majority rushed up the stairs to the roof, where, after
a short resistance, the palace guard, servants, and cavasses were
all killed; while the four men--Taha Shahin, a Dongolawi, whose
father was formerly in my service; Ibrahim Abu Shanab, servant of
George Angelleto; Hamad Wad Ahmed Jar en Nebbi, Hassani; and a
fourth, also a Dongolawi, servant to Fathallah Jehami--followed
by a crowd of others, knowing Gordon Pasha's room, rushed towards
it. Taha Shahin was the first to encounter Gordon beside the door
of the divan, apparently waiting for the Arabs, and standing with
a calm and dignified manner, his left hand resting on the hilt of
his sword. Shahin, dashing forward with the curse "Mala' oun el
yom yomek!" (O cursed one, your time is come!), plunged his spear
into his body. Gordon, it is said, made a gesture of scorn with his
right hand, and turned his back, where he received another spear
wound, which caused him to fall forward, and was most likely his
mortal wound. The other three men, closely following Shahin, then
rushed in, and, cutting at the prostrate body with their swords,
must have killed him in a few seconds. His death occurred just
before sunrise. He made no resistance, and did not fire a shot
from his revolver. From all I knew, I am convinced that he never
intended to surrender. I should say he must have intended to use
his revolver only if he saw it was the intention of the Arabs to
take him prisoner alive; but he saw such crowds rushing on him with
swords and spears, and there being no important emirs with them, he
must have known that they did not intend to spare him, and that was
most likely what he wanted.... Gordon Pasha's head was immediately
cut off and sent to the Mahdi at Omdurman, while his body was
dragged downstairs and left exposed for a time in the garden, where
many Arabs came to plunge their spears into it. I heard that the
Mahdi had given orders for Gordon to be spared, but what I have
stated was told me by the four men I have mentioned, and I believe
the Mahdi pardoned them for their disobedience of orders.... I saw
Gordon Pasha's head exposed in Omdurman. It was fixed between the
branches of a tree, and all who passed by threw stones at it.
[NOTE.--This account is from the journal of Bordeini Bey, an
eminent Khartoum merchant, who willingly gave up his large stores
of grain to Gordon for the supply of the garrison. He was taken
prisoner at the fall of the city.]