The night passed quietly, except that shots were occasionally fired by
Dervishes who crept up within range; and that, once, a mounted man, who
had apparently lost his way, rode fearlessly into camp; and then,
finding himself close to the troops, turned his horse and galloped off
again. No shot followed him, as the orders were strict that the camp
was not to be alarmed, unless in the case of a serious attack.
At half past three the bugle sounded, and the troops were soon astir.
The animals were watered and fed, and the men had a breakfast of cocoa
or tea, with biscuits and tinned meat. At half past four Colonel
Broadwood, commanding the Egyptian cavalry, sent out a squadron to the
hills on the west, and another to Surgham Hill.
The latter arrived at their destination at two minutes past five, when
daylight had just broken. The officer in command saw at once that the
Dervish army had been reinforced in the night, and were marching to
attack us. News was at once sent back to the camp, where all was in
readiness for an advance.
No news could have been more welcome. It was one thing to attack the
Dervishes in their chosen position, and to carry the narrow streets of
Omdurman at the point of the bayonet--the Dervishes had shown, at Abu
Hamed, how desperately they could fight under such circumstances--and
another to meet them while attacking our position, in the open. This
was protected, along the line occupied by the white troops, by a hedge;
while the three Egyptian brigades had constructed shelter trenches.
These afforded a vastly better defence against a foe advancing by
daylight, although they would not be so effective in checking a sudden
and determined rush, in the darkness.
Preparations were at once made to oppose the enemy. The Sirdar and his
staff were already mounting, when the news arrived. The horses were now
taken to the rear, the reserve ammunition boxes lifted from the mules'
backs, and the animals led to a sheltered position, behind some huts.
The guns were wheeled up into positions between the infantry brigades.
The troops were disposed in line, two deep; two companies of each
battalion, with the stretchers and bearers, taking post at a short
distance farther back, to reinforce the front line if hardly pressed,
and to supply it from the reserve store of ammunition.
Already the gunboats had recommenced the bombardment of Omdurman, and
the mosque of the Mahdi, but as soon as news came that the Dervishes
were advancing to the attack, they were signalled to return to cover
the flank of the zareba. On their arrival, they took up a position
whence they could shell the line by which the Dervishes were advancing,
and which would bring them apparently five or six hundred yards west of
Surgham Hill.
The Lancers at once started forward to cover the left flank of the
position. In a few minutes they reached Surgham Hill, and joined the
Egyptian squadron there.
The sight from the crest of Surgham Hill was grand. The enemy's front
extended over three miles. The lines were deep and compact, and the
banners floated above them. They were advancing steadily and in good
order, and their battle cries rose and fell in measured cadence. Their
numbers were variously estimated at from fifty to seventy thousand--a
superb force, consisting of men as brave as any in the world, and
animated by religious fanaticism, and an intense hatred of those they
were marching to assail.
In the centre were the Khalifa's own corps, twenty thousand strong. On
their right was the banner of Yacoub, his brother, and beyond, two
divisions led by well-known emirs; while on his left was the division
led by his son, Osman, known as Sheik Ed Din, the nominal
commander-in-chief of the whole force.
The 21st Lancers, out in skirmishing order, were speedily driven back
by the Dervishes, and retired into the zareba. When the latter came
near enough to see the small British force, a shout of exultation rose
from their ranks, for they felt certain now of surrounding and
annihilating the infidels, according to the prophecy.
On our side the satisfaction was no less marked. The front line moved
forward to the thorny hedge, and prepared to open fire above it. The
black troops uttered a joyful shout of defiance, as they took their
places in their trenches.
When the enemy were two thousand eight hundred yards away, the three
batteries on the left of the zareba opened fire; and two batteries on
the right, and a number of Maxims, joined in pouring shell and bullets
into the thickest of the Dervish mass round the Khalifa's banner. The
effect was terrible. For a moment the Dervish lines halted, astonished
at the storm to which they were exposed. But it was only for a moment.
The wide gaps were filled up, and at a quicker pace than before, the
great line swept on; the banner bearers and Baggara horsemen pushing
forward to the front, to encourage the infantry.
Seeing how persistently they were coming on, the Sirdar ordered the men
of Lyttleton's brigade to open fire at long range. The Grenadiers were
the first to begin, firing volleys in sections. The other regiments of
the brigade were soon hard at it, but neither they nor the Maxims
appeared to be doing serious execution, while the terrible effect of
the shell fire could really be seen. But, although great numbers of the
enemy were killed or wounded by the bursting shells, there was no halt
in the forward movement.
Suddenly, over the crest and sides of the Surgham Hill, the division of
the Dervish right, reinforced by a portion of Yacoub's division,
appeared; and over fifteen thousand men came streaming down the hill,
waving banners and shouting their war cries. They were led by their
emirs, on horseback; but the infantry kept pace with these,
occasionally discharging their rifles at random.
The guns of the three batteries, and one of the Maxims, were swung
round and opened upon them. They were less than a mile away, and the
whole of Gatacre's division opened a terrific fire. Still the Dervishes
held on, leaving the ground they passed over white with fallen men.
From seventeen hundred yards the sights had to be lowered rapidly, but
at a thousand yards they held their foe. No man could cross the ground
swept by the hail of balls. So rapid and sustained was the fire, that
men had to retire to refill their pouches from the reserve ammunition,
and the rifles were so heated that they could no longer be held. In
some cases the men changed their weapons for those of the companies in
reserve, in others these companies closed up and took the places of the
front line. Not for a moment was there any cessation in the fire.
Unable to do more, Yacoub's men moved towards the front and joined the
main body, whose advance had been checked by the fire of Maxwell's
Egyptian brigade. A few rounds had been fired by the three cannon that
the Khalifa had brought out with him, but they all fell short.
On our side the casualties had been few. In their desperate attempt to
get at close quarters, the Dervish riflemen had not stopped to reload
the weapons they had discharged, and there was practically no return to
the awful fire to which they had been exposed.
But while Yacoub's force had been terribly punished, and the main body,
brought to a standstill at a distance of fourteen hundred yards, had
suffered almost as heavily, the battle had not gone so well to the
right of our position, towards which the Khalifa was now moving.
Broadwood's horse, and the camel corps, had been driven off the hill
they occupied; and so fierce was the attack that three of the guns of
the horse battery had to be left behind. The camel corps were ordered
to retire rapidly, and make for shelter to the right rear of the camp.
The force made two or three stands, and the Egyptian cavalry more than
once charged the pursuing horsemen. The gunboats opened fire, and
covered the final retirement of the camel corps, which had lost eighty
men.
The cavalry did not retire to the zareba, but continued to fall back,
occasionally turning and facing the enemy, until they were five miles
away; when the Dervishes gave up the pursuit, and sat down to rest
after their tremendous exertions. Although forced to retire, the
cavalry had done good service, for they had drawn off a great body of
the enemy at a critical moment, and these were unable to return and
take part in the battle still raging.
At length, the Khalifa moved off with all his force behind the western
hills, and for a short time there was a lull in the battle. Many of the
wounded tribesmen crawled up to within seven or eight hundred yards of
the zareba, and there opened fire. Their aim was good, and men began to
drop fast, in spite of the volleys fired to clear off the troublesome
foe. But their fire was soon disregarded for, from the ravines in the
range of low hills, behind which the Khalifa's force had disappeared, a
mass of men burst out at a hard run. From their shelter behind Surgham
Hill, a portion of the force who were there also swept down to join the
Khalifa, while Yacoub advanced from the southwest, and another body
from the west.
Instantly the infantry and artillery fire broke out again. On the
previous day, the distance had been measured and marked on several
conspicuous objects; and the storm of shells tore the ranks of the
enemy, and the rifles swept them with a rain of bullets. But, in face
of all this, the Dervishes continued to advance at a run, their numbers
thinning every minute.
Two or three hundred horsemen, with their emirs, dashed at the zareba
at full gallop. Shrapnel, Maxim and rifle bullets swept their ranks,
but nearer and nearer they came, with lessening numbers every yard,
until the last of them fell within about two hundred yards of Maxwell's
line. Animated by the example, the infantry rushed forward. The black
flag was planted within nine hundred yards of Maxwell's left; but, in
addition to the Egyptian fire, the crossfire of the British divisions
poured upon those around it.
The main body began to waver, but the Khalifa and his emirs did their
best to encourage and rally them. The flag was riddled with balls, and
the men who held it were shot down; but others seized the post of
honour, until a pile of bodies accumulated round it.
At last, but one man remained standing there. For a minute he stood
quietly immovable, then fell forward dead. Then the Dervishes lost
heart, and began to fall back in ones and twos, then in dozens, until
the last had disappeared behind the hills.
The troops then turned their attention to the men who, lying in
shelter, were still maintaining their fire. There were fully a thousand
of these, and the greater portion of our casualties took place from
their fire, while the troops were occupied in repelling the main
attack. It was not long, however, before bullets and shell proved too
much for them; and those who survived crawled away, to join their
kinsmen behind the hills.
It was eight o'clock now, and the victory had apparently been won. Some
ten thousand of the Khalifa's best troops had been killed or wounded.
In the British division, one officer and one man had been killed, and
three officers and sixty-five men wounded. The latter were at once
placed on board the hospital barges. Fresh ammunition was served out
and, half an hour after the last shot was fired, the army prepared to
march on Omdurman.
It was most important that they should arrive at the town before Ed
Din's Dervishes should reach it; for unless they could do so, the loss
that would be incurred in capturing it would be vastly greater than
that which had been suffered in the battle. At nine o'clock the start
was made. The troops advanced in brigades. Lyttleton led on the left,
Wauchope was on his right, Maxwell somewhat in the rear, while still
more to the right came Lewis, and farther out on the plain Macdonald.
They formed roughly half a semicircle. Lyttleton, followed by Wauchope,
was to march between the river and Surgham Hill. Maxwell was to cross
over the hill, while Lewis and Macdonald were to keep farther out to
the right. Collinson's Egyptian brigade was to guard the stores and
materials left behind.
The 21st Lancers scouted ahead of the British brigades, to discover if
any foe were lurking behind Surgham Hill. When about half a mile south
of the hill, they saw a small party of Dervish cavalry and some
infantry, who were hiding in what looked like a shallow water course.
The four squadrons rode forward at a gallop. A sharp musketry fire
opened upon them, but without hesitation they dashed headlong at the
Dervishes, when they found that, instead of a hundred and fifty foemen
as they had supposed, some fifteen hundred Dervishes were lying
concealed in the water course.
It was too late to draw rein, and with a cheer the cavalry rode down
into the midst of the foe. There was a wild, fierce fight, lance
against spear, sabre against sword, the butt-end of a rifle or the
deadly knife. Some cut their way through unscathed. Others were
surrounded and cut off. Splendid feats of heroism were performed. Many
of those who got over returned to rescue officers or comrades, until at
last all the survivors climbed the bank.
The brunt of the fighting fell upon the two central squadrons. Not only
were the enemy thickest where they charged, but the opposite bank of
the deep nullah was composed of rough boulders, almost impassable by
horses. These squadrons lost sixteen killed and nineteen wounded.
Altogether, twenty-two officers and men were killed, and fifty wounded;
and there were one hundred and nineteen casualties among the horses.
Once across, the survivors gathered at a point where their fire
commanded the water course; and, dismounting, speedily drove the
Dervishes from it. On examining it afterwards, it was found that sixty
dead Dervishes lay where the central squadrons had cut their way
through.
The charge, in its daring and heroism, resembled that of the 23rd Light
Dragoons at Talavera. The fall into the ravine, on that occasion, was
much deeper than that into which the Lancers dashed; but it was not
occupied by a desperate force, and although many were injured by the
fall, it was in their subsequent charge, against a whole French
division, that they were almost annihilated.
Both incidents were, like the Balaclava charge, magnificent; but they
were not war. A desperate charge, to cover the retreat of a defeated
army, is legitimate and worthy of all praise, even if the gallant men
who make it are annihilated; but this was not the case at Talavera, nor
at Omdurman. It was a brilliant but a costly mistake. The bravery shown
was superb, and the manner in which officers and men rode back into the
struggling mass, to rescue comrades, beyond all praise; but the charge
should never have been made, and the lives were uselessly sacrificed.
As yet, all was quiet at other points. Bodies of the enemy could be
seen, making their way towards Omdurman. The battery opposite the town
had, from early morning, been keeping up a fire from its heavy guns
upon it; but, save for the occasional shot of a lurking Dervish, all
was quiet elsewhere.
While the cavalry charge was in progress, Gregory had moved along the
line of the Egyptian brigades with General Hunter. Suddenly, from
behind the hills where the Khalifa had fallen back with his defeated
army, a column of fully twelve thousand men, led by the banner bearers
and emirs, poured out again. A strong body sprang forward from another
valley, and made for the southeastern corner of Macdonald's brigade,
which had moved almost due west from the position it had occupied in
the zareba; while the large force that had chased away the Egyptian
cavalry were seen, returning to attack him in the rear.
General Hunter, who was riding between Macdonald's and Lewis's
brigades, which were now a good mile apart, exclaimed to Gregory, who
happened to be the nearest officer to him:
"Ride to Macdonald, and tell him to fall back, if possible!"
Then he turned, and galloped off to fetch up reinforcements. But the
need was already seen. The sudden uproar had attracted the attention of
the whole army, and the Sirdar instantly grasped the situation. The
moment was indeed critical. If Macdonald's brigade were overwhelmed, it
might have meant a general disaster; and the Sirdar at once sent orders
to Wauchope's brigade, to go, at the double, to Macdonald's aid.
Fortunately Colonel Long, who commanded the artillery, had sent three
batteries with Macdonald's brigade. Collinson's brigade were far away
near the river, Lewis's were themselves threatened. It was evident, at
once, that no assistance could reach Macdonald in time. When Gregory
reached him, the Dervishes were already approaching.
"It cannot be done," Macdonald said sternly, when Gregory delivered the
message. "We must fight!"
Indeed, to retreat would have meant destruction. The fire would have
been ineffective, and the thirty thousand fierce foes would have been
among them. There was nothing to do but to fight.
Macdonald had marched out with the 11th Soudanese on his left, the 2nd
Egyptians in the centre, and the 10th Soudanese on the right--all in
line. Behind, in column, were the 9th Soudanese. The last were at once
brought up into line, to face the advancing enemy.
Fortunately, the Sheik Ed Din's force was still some little distance
away. The batteries took their place in the openings between the
battalions, and the Maxim-Nordenfeldts were soon carrying death into
the advancing foe; while the Martini-Henry, with which the black and
Egyptian troops were armed, mowed them down as by a scythe. The
Soudanese battalions fired, as was their custom, individually, as fast
as they could load; the Egyptian battalion by steady volleys.
Still the enemy pressed on, until they were within two hundred yards of
the line. The emirs and other leaders, Baggara horse and many spearmen,
still held on; until they fell, a few feet only from the steady
infantry. The rear ranks of the Dervishes now began to fall back, and
the desperate charges of their leaders grew feebler; but Ed Din's
division was now within a thousand yards. Macdonald, confident that the
main attack was broken, threw back the 9th Soudanese to face it, and
wheeled a couple of his batteries to support them.
The already retreating Dervishes, encouraged by the arrival of Ed Din's
division, returned to the attack. The 11th Soudanese swung round, to
aid the 9th in their struggle with Ed Din's troops. The charges of the
Dervishes were impetuous in the extreme. Regardless of the storm of
shell and bullets they rushed on, and would have thrust themselves
between the 9th and 11th, had not the 2nd Egyptians, wheeling at the
double, thrown themselves into the gap.
The Dervishes pressed right up to them, and bayonet and spear
frequently crossed; but in a fight of this kind, discipline tells its
tale. The blacks and Egyptians maintained their lines, steadily and
firmly; and against these, individual effort and courage, even of the
highest quality, were in vain.
The ground being now cleared, the gunboats opened with Maxim and cannon
upon the rear of the Dervishes. The camel corps coming up, each man
dismounted and added his fire to the turmoil; and, finally, three of
Wauchope's battalions arrived, and the Lincolns, doubling to the right,
opened a terrible flank fire. The Dervishes broke and fled; not, as
usual, sullenly and reluctantly, but at full speed, stooping low to
escape the storm of bullets that pursued them.
Zaki had, throughout the day, kept close to Gregory, ready to hold his
horse when he dismounted; but, quick-footed as he was, he was left
behind when his master galloped across to Macdonald. He was up,
however, in the course of a minute or two, and Gregory was glad to see
him, for the horse was kicking and plunging at the roar of the
approaching enemy; and was almost maddened when to this was added the
crash of the batteries and musketry.
"Put my blanket round his head, Zaki," Gregory said, when the black ran
up. "Wrap it round so that he cannot see. Hold the bridle with one
hand, and stroke him with the other, and keep on talking to him; he
knows your voice. I don't want to dismount if I can help it, for with
my field glasses I see everything that is taking place, and I will tell
you how matters are going."
For the moment, it seemed as if the surging crowd streaming down must
carry all before it; but the steadiness with which the 9th Soudanese
moved into their place on the flank of the line, and the other
regiments remained, as if on parade, soon reassured him. The terrible
slaughter that was taking place in the ranks of the Dervishes soon
showed that, in that quarter at least, there was no fear of things
going wrong; but he could not but look anxiously towards the great mass
of men approaching from the north.
It was a matter of minutes. Would the present attack be repulsed in
time for the position to be changed, to meet the coming storm?
Occasionally, Gregory looked back to see if reinforcements were coming.
Wauchope's brigade was visible over the tops of the scattered bushes.
The movements of the line showed that they were coming on at the
double, but they were farther away than Ed Din's host, and the latter
were running like deer.
He felt a deep sense of relief when the 9th Soudanese were thrown back,
performing the movement as quietly and steadily as if on a drill
ground; and two batteries of artillery galloped across to their
support. He had hardly expected such calm courage from the black
battalion. As to the bravery of the Soudanese troops, there was no
question. They were of the same blood and race as their foes, and had
shown how bravely they could fight in many a previous battle; but he
was not prepared for the steady way in which they worked, under such
novel circumstances; and although they, too, must have known that every
moment was of consequence, they moved without haste or hurry into the
new position, scarcely glancing at the torrent which was rushing on
towards them.
Not less steadily and quietly did the 11th, considered to be the crack
regiment of the brigade, swing round; and as calmly and firmly did the
Egyptian battalion--composed of the peasants who, but twenty years
before, had been considered among the most cowardly of people, a host
of whom would have fled before a dozen of the dreaded Dervishes--march
into the gap between the two black regiments, and manfully hold their
own.
And yet, he could not but feel sorry for the valiant savages who, under
so awful a fire, still pressed forward to certain death; their numbers
withering away at every step, until they dwindled to nothing, only to
be replaced by a fresh band, which darted forward to meet a similar
fate; and yet, when he remembered the wholesale slaughter at Metemmeh,
the annihilation of countless villages and of their inhabitants, and,
above all, the absolute destruction of the army of Hicks Pasha, the
capture of Khartoum, the murder of Gordon, and the reduction to a state
of slavery of all the peaceful tribes of the Soudan, he could not but
feel that the annihilation of these human tigers, and the wiping out of
their false creed, was a necessity.
When the last shot was fired, he dismounted and leant against his
horse, completely unnerved by the tremendous excitement that had been
compressed into the space of half an hour. Zaki was in ecstasy at the
victory. The ruthless massacre of so many of his tribesmen, the ruin of
his native village, and the murder of his relations was avenged, at
last. The reign of the Dervishes was over. Henceforth men could till
their fields in peace. It was possible that, even yet, he might find
his mother and sisters still alive, in the city but a few miles away,
living in wretched existence as slaves of their captors.
Tears of joy streamed down his cheeks. He would have liked to help to
revenge the wrongs of his tribe, but his master needed him; and
moreover, there was no place for an untrained man in the ranks of the
Soudanese regiments. They were doing their work better than he could.
Still, it was the one bitter drop in his intense joy, that he had not
been able to aid in the conflict.
He expressed this to Gregory.
"You have had your share in the fight, Zaki, just as I have had. I have
not fired a shot, but I have been in the battle, and run its risks, and
so have you. Each of us has done his duty, and we can say, for the rest
of our lives, that we have borne our share in the great battle that has
smashed up the power of the Khalifa, and the rule of the Dervishes."