CHAPTER XII.

STORIES OF THE BATTLE—OMDURMAN.

There are numberless incidents and details remaining untold of the great battle and the fall of Omdurman. So singular and interesting an action is almost without parallel. "That villainous gunpowder" of former days was so sparingly used in the fight by the Sirdar's army that every part of the battle-field could be plainly seen. In the first stage the heaviest firing was by the British; the Lee-Metfords with cordite made little or no smoke. Maxwell's men of the Khedivial army, with their Martini-Henrys, never fired so fast as to cause any thick white cloud to shut out the view and hang between them and the enemy. Lewis's and Macdonald's brigades were never very heavily engaged whilst the troops remained zerebaed. Perhaps it was the light south wind which blew the men's rifle smoke behind us at once, but that was not what I thought. There seemed to be none to blow away. I recall that in the thick of the battle of Tamai with Davis's square, and at Abu Klea, the smoke cloud that hung like a curtain before our eyes was a source of danger. Save for the erratic, occasional whizzing of the enemy's bullets, the thud of a hit and the dropping, weltering in his blood, of a man here and there, watched from our firing lines the combat enlisted and fascinated the attention with barely a suggestion of danger to the onlooker. Few will ever see again so great and brave a show. A vast army, with a front of three miles, covering an undulating plain—warriors mounted and afoot, clad in quaint and picturesque drapery, with gorgeous barbaric display of banners, burnished metal, and sheen of steel—came sweeping upon us with the speed of cavalry. Half-a-dozen batteries smote them, a score of Maxims and 10,000 rifles unceasingly buffeted them, making great gaps and rending their ranks in all directions. With magnificent courage, without pause, the survivors invariably drew together, furiously, frenziedly running to cross steel with us. Their ardour and mad devotion won admiration on all sides in our own ranks. Poor, misguided Jehadieh and hocussed Arabs of the spacious and cruel Soudan! With such troops disciplined and trained by English officers the policing of Africa would be an easy affair. Try and try as they did, they could not moving openly pass through our blasts of fire. Some few there were who got by subtler means to within 600 yards of the British front and 200 yards from Maxwell's blacks, there to yield their lives.

Among the earliest, if not the first man, wounded in the zereba on 2nd September was Corporal Mackenzie, of "C" Company Seaforth Highlanders. About 6.10 a.m. he was hit in the leg by a ricochet. The wound was dressed, and Mackenzie stuck to his post. At 6.30 a.m., when the action was almost in full swing, as Private Davis and Corporal Taylor, R.A.M.C., were carrying a wounded soldier upon a stretcher to the dressing hospital, Davis was shot through the head and killed, and Taylor was severely wounded in the shoulder.

Whilst our batteries were hurling death and destruction from the zereba at the Khalifa's army, Major Elmslie's battery of 50-pounder howitzers was battering the Mahdi's tomb to pieces and breaching the great stone wall in Omdurman. The practice with the terrible Lyddite shells was better than before, and the dervishes, even more clearly than we, must have seen from the volcanic upheavals when the missiles struck, that their capital was being wrecked. It must have been something of a disillusion to many of them to note that the sacred tomb of their Mahdi was suffering most of all from the infidels' fire. Several of the gunboats assisted in the bombardment, but their chief duty was to drive all bodies of the enemy away from the river. Major Elmslie threw altogether some 410 Lyddite shells into Omdurman. Most of them detonated, but there were a few that merely flared. It was the fumes from these that imparted a chrome colour to the surrounding earth and stonework. Why the Khalifa did not make greater use of his artillery and musketry became more of a puzzle than ever when we saw how well provided he was in both respects. He had a battery of excellent big Krupps that were never fired, besides eight or ten machine guns. As for rifles, his men must have carried at least 25,000 into action against us. Had they employed these in "sniping" as at Abu Kru, the Sirdar would have had to march out and attack them.

The victory of Omdurman owed much to the masterly serving of the artillery. Even in Macdonald's severely contested action, the three batteries of Maxim-Nordenfeldt 12 1/2-pounders did much to save the situation. These were Peake's, Lawrie's, and de Rougemont's, with, in the latter part of the fight, three Krupp guns of the horse artillery. The Camel Corps also brought up two Maxims to help at the close of the battle to repulse Sheikh Ed Din. Macdonald handled his guns as superbly as he did his infantry. At the Atbara against Mahmoud, the light powerful Maxim-Nordenfeldts had proved that they could be successfully fought side by side with infantry. Between the battalion intervals, therefore, the dauntless gunners stood firing point-blank at the dervish columns. Throughout the battle Major Williams' 32nd Field Battery, R.A., fired 420 rounds. Three of the Maxim-Nordenfeldt batteries (all Egyptian) fired 100 rounds per gun, whilst Major Lawrie's battery, No. 4 Egyptian, also Maxim-Nordenfeldt guns, fired over that number, or 900 rounds in all. All these batteries were of six guns each. Captain Smeaton fired from his six Maxims, stationed in the zereba south-east corner, 54,000 rounds. One of the wants much felt by the gunners was the need of more shrapnel during the action. Twice at least the allowance supply was temporarily exhausted. Yet it is not to be assumed on that account that the reserve ammunition was difficult to be got at or that the firing lines were insufficiently fed. The arrangements in these respects were admirable. During the zereba action, the Grenadier Guards fired the largest number of rounds. The Camerons fired 34 rounds per man. Five companies of the Lincolns in the firing line, 32 rounds each man. The Northumberland Fusiliers fired in all 1200 rounds, and the Lancashire Fusiliers 400 rounds.

Many of our wounded were hit with bullets from elephant guns, brass cased Mausers, Remingtons, and repeating rifles. The great majority of the dervishes carried Remingtons, and these, as a rule, were in passably good condition. Probably they were officers or crack shots among the Jehadieh and Arabs that fired into the zereba with the small bore Mausers. Most of their shooting was too high, though the direction was right enough. When the first phase of the action ceased at 8.30 a.m., hundreds, if not thousands of wounded dervishes upon the field rose and moved away. Some of these were seen going back towards Omdurman, others walked towards the west to rejoin their friends. No attempt was made on our side to molest them, the order to "cease fire" having been given. It was either then or a little earlier that the large body of natives, possibly camp followers, behind the Khalifa's force, melted away, flowing back to the town. At that time some of our army camp followers, or servants, went forward from the zereba to pick up trophies from the field. A party of four went towards a small group of dead dervishes lying about 300 yards on the left front of Maxwell's brigade. I noticed them picking up spears and swords. A correspondent rode out to join them, Mr Bennett Stanford, who was formerly in the "Royals." In company with another colleague I rode out from the British lines to join him, curious to see the effect of our fire. At the moment a dervish arose, apparently unwounded, and spear in hand charged the servants, who incontinently bolted back to the zereba. My companion also turned back, but I was yet over 200 yards away, and so rode forward. One of the men attacked by the dervish was a native non-commissioned officer. He had followed the others out. Dropping upon his knee he aimed at the dervish, but his Martini-Henry missed fire. He fired again and missed, then, the dervish being very near him, ran for the zereba. Mr Bennett Stanford, who was splendidly mounted, with a cocked four-barrelled Lancaster pistol aimed deliberately at the dervish, who turned towards him. Waiting till the jibbeh-clad warrior was but a score of paces or so off, Mr Stanford fired, and appeared to miss also, for the dervish without halt rushed at him, whereupon he easily avoided him, riding off. Then the dervish turned to the soldier who, encumbered with his rifle, did not run swiftly. By that time I had drawn up so as to interpose between them, passing beyond the dervish. I pulled up my rather sorry nag—my best was for carrying despatches—and took deliberate aim. The dervish turned upon me as I wished. I fired and believe hit him, and as my horse was jibbing about fired a second shot from my revolver with less success, then easily got out of the dervish's reach. He had a heavy spear and showed no sign of throwing it as I rode away, keeping well out of his reach. The camp followers by then were all safe, and so was the native soldier, Mr Dervish having the field very much to himself. Thereupon an A.D.C., Lieutenant Smyth, came galloping out and riding hard past, fired at the fellow but missed. Checking his horse Lieutenant Smyth wheeled it about, and he and the dervish collided. The man, who by this time appeared somewhat weak, grabbed the Lieutenant and strove to drive his lance into him. With great hardihood Lieutenant Smyth fired his revolver in the dervish's face, killing him instantly. It was a wondrous narrow escape for the Lieutenant. The instant afterwards I asked him if he had been badly wounded, but he declared that he was untouched, a statement I could scarcely credit, and so repeated my question in another form, to receive a similar answer. In the excitement of the moment he no doubt did not feel the slight spear wound he actually received upon the arm, which saved him from the thrust aimed at his body. An examination of the dead dervish showed he had received four bullet wounds.

The following is a brief and well-balanced account of the charge of the Lancers furnished me by an officer who was present:—"We moved along to the left—i.e., east of Surgham—following up the enemy on that flank. Our object was to prevent them retiring into Omdurman or, at any rate, delay their retreat. A body of dervishes were seen crouching not far off to the right. Colonel Martin determined to push the enemy back and interpose between them and the town. The regiment, of four squadrons, was wheeled into line. When 300 yards off we started to charge, and were met by a heavy musketry fire from the enemy. At first it was ill-directed, but very soon casualties occurred in our ranks from it. Instead of a few dervishes, we tumbled upon over 500 hidden in a fold of the ground. They were in a khor, or nullah, into which we had to drop, and they lined it twenty deep in places. Our weight, however, carried us through. The dervishes, when we struck them, did not break, but "bunched" together, showing no fear of cavalry. There was half a minute's hacking, cutting, spearing, and shooting in all directions; then we cleared them, and rallied on the far side. Halting about 300 yards off, men were dismounted, and we opened a sharp fire from our carbines on the enemy, driving them to the westward in ten minutes. The charge was really successful in its object, as the retirement from that part of the field into Omdurman was stopped. We left perhaps sixty dervishes on the field in the charge, and killed about 100 more with our subsequent fire." The dervish leader who was sitting on a fine black Dongolawi horse was killed in the melee. A trooper met him in the khor and ran him through with his spear.

By far the finest feature of that morning of battles was the action fought by Colonel Macdonald with his brigade. The dervish forces that sought to crush him numbered fully 20,000 men. To oppose them he had but four battalions, or in all less than 3000 Soudanese and Egyptian soldiers. With a tact, coolness, and hardihood I have never seen equalled, Colonel Macdonald manoeuvred and fought his men. They responded to his call with confidence and alacrity begotten of long acquaintance and implicit faith in their leader. He had led several of the battalions through a score of fierce fights and skirmishes, always emerging and covering himself and his men with glory, honour and victory. All of them knew him, they were proud of him, and reposed implicit confidence in their general. Unmistakably the Khalifa and his son, the Sheikh Ed Din, thought that their fortunate hour had come—that, in detail, they would destroy first Macdonald, then one by one the other Khedivial brigades. What might have been, had father and son arrived at the same time and distance on both sides of Macdonald, as they evidently intended, I will not venture to discuss. Happily the onslaughts of the wild, angry dervishes did not quite synchronise, and Colonel Macdonald was able to devote virtually his whole firing strength to the overthrow of the Khalifa's division ere rapidly turning about first one then another of his battalions to deal with the Sheikh Ed Din's unbroken columns. The enemy on both sides got very close in, hundreds of them being killed almost at the feet of the men of the 1st Khedivial brigade. Dervish spears were thrown into and over the staunch and unyielding Soudanese and Fellaheen soldiery. Peake's, Lawrie's, and de Rougemont's batteries stood their ground, side by side with the infantry, never wavering, firing point-blank upon the dervish masses. Majors Jackson, Nason, and Walter were, as usual, proud of the steadiness of their blacks—the 11th, 10th, and 9th battalions—whilst Major Pink, of the 2nd Egyptian, was elated with the stout way his soldiers doubled, wheeled, and at a critical moment rushed to fill up a gap near one of the batteries. The "Gippies" looked without flinching straight into the eyes of the dervishes, and fired volleys that would have done credit to a British regiment. The hulking, physically strong "Fellah" had at last taken the measure of his enemy, and meant to prove himself the better man of the two. And he did—delighted with himself and his comrades, calling to them, chiding the dervishes, and stepping out of the ranks to meet the onrush of those of the enemy who came near, to stop it with bullet or bayonet. But chief of all was Macdonald, going hither and thither and issuing his orders as if on parade, with a sharp snap to each command. Two armies saw it all, and one at least admired his intrepid valour. One hundred black-flag Taaisha, the Khalifa's own Baggara tribesmen and part of his body-guard, charged impetuously. Spurring their horses to their utmost speed leading the footmen, down they came straight for the brigade. Cannon, Maxims, and rifles roared, and, bold as the Taaisha rode, neither horse nor man lived to get within one hundred yards of our Soudanese and Gippies. Steady as a gladiator, with what to some of us looked like inevitable disaster staring him in the face, Colonel Macdonald fought his brigade for all it was worth. He quickly moved upon the best available ground, formed up, wheeled about, and stood to die or win. He won practically unaided, for the pinch was all but over when the Camel Corps, hurrying up, formed upon his right, after he had faced about to receive the Sheikh Ed Din's onslaught. The Lincolns, who arrived later on, helped to hasten the flight of the enemy, whose repulse was assured ere they or any of Wauchope's brigade were within 1200 yards of Macdonald. Lewis's brigade were not even able to assist so much, and such outside help as came in time to be of use was in the first instance from the guns of Major Williams' and another battery, and the Maxims upon the left near Surgham hurried forward by the Sirdar himself, as I saw. General Hunter came over to the headquarters-staff galloping to get assistance, and rode back with Wauchope's brigade, which doubled for a considerable distance, so serious was the situation and nervous the tension of that thrilling ten minutes. Had the brilliant, the splendid deed of arms wrought by Macdonald been done under the eyes of a sovereign, or in some other armies, he had surely been created a General on the spot. If the public are in search of the real hero of the battle of Omdurman there he is, ready made—one who committed no blunder to be redeemed by courageous conduct afterwards. He boldly exercised his right of personal judgment in a moment of extreme peril, and the result amply justified the soundness of his decision.

It was about 11.50 a.m. when the Sirdar wheeled his army about to resume the march upon Omdurman. The dervishes who had escaped slaughter had bent their bodies and run from the fatal field, going far off behind the western range of hills. Moving slowly and in echelon, as when we first set out, we passed over part of the battle-field. Groups of unwounded dervishes, who insisted on fighting and sniping the troops, had to be dealt with as well as all others who persisted in being truculent. Like everybody else at the head of the column, I was shot at repeatedly. All of the enemy, however, who showed the least disposition to surrender were left unmolested. Hundreds of dervishes who had been wounded hobbled on in front of our army. We could see the Khalifa's forces behind the hills watching us and streaming upon a parallel line towards Omdurman. But the dervishes were no longer in compact military array or ranged in division under chiefs. They were mostly scattered in small groups and bands spread over a very wide area. It was a rabble, and had lost semblance of being an army with power of concerted action. When Macdonald's fight was over, the Egyptian cavalry under Colonel Broadwood returned and formed up near the camelry. They, with the Camel Corps, moved forward on the right as before during the final advance upon the Khalifa's capital. Men and horses had done a week of the hardest kind of work, but both were yet willing and full of spirit. As for the 21st Lancers, the few mounts remaining fit for work scarcely counted as a cavalry force. The gunboats and the infantry saw to our left, which was not difficult, for upon that hand the country was quite bare. About 2 p.m. the army reached the northern outskirts of Omdurman, the British division upon the left. Gatacre's men were nearest the Nile, Maxwell and Lewis being almost opposite one of the main thoroughfares of the town. A halt for water—the great necessity—food, and rest was ordered. Parties were instantly detailed to fill water-bottles and fantasses, iron tanks. The cooks, too, got to work, and fires were kindled with wood torn from neighbouring huts, and a meal was prepared. Under the burning sunshine, down upon the loose dirt and gravel, officers and men sprawled to rest themselves. There was a very muddy creek or inset near, and thither went thousands, parched with thirst, to drink, not hesitatingly but gulping down copious draughts of water, tough and thick as from a clay puddle. I wandered with my horse a little way into the town, and ultimately down towards the main stream of the Nile, where the water was cleaner and cooler than by the halting-place. There were plenty of dervishes to be seen about, looking from lanes and walls, but they were far from being particularly aggressive at that part of the town. Indeed, several large groups of men, Arabs and negroes, came up bearing white rags on sticks in front of them. I went forward and met parties of them, and advised them to go into the British lines, where the soldiers would receive them as friends. Watering my horse, I let him feed on grass by the river's brink, filled my water-bottle, and then returned by a circuitous route. The natives were not all inclined to be friendly, for a few preferred shooting at the stranger. But their practice was very bad.

Returning to where the troops still lay, I found that a fresh movement was afoot. Report had been brought that hundreds of lesser sheikhs and leaders were in the town ready to surrender with their followers if their lives would be spared. The assurance sought was quickly conveyed to them. Slatin Pasha, who had been indefatigable on the battle-field, watching the course of events and locating the commands of the various important dervish chiefs, had received news that the Khalifa was still in the town. The Pasha, on passing over the field, had searched around the black flag and other noted leaders' banners to see who lay there. In the heaped dead about the Khalifa's flag he had seen Yacoub, Abdullah's brother, and many more leaders, but the arch head of Mahdism, the Sheikh Ed Din and Osman Digna were nowhere to be found. Amongst the dead Emirs identified were Osman Azrak, leader of the cavalry, Wad el Melik, Ali Wad Helu, Yunis, Ibrahim Khalil, Mahmoud's brother, el Fadl, Osman Dekem, Zaki Ferar, Abu Senab, Mousa Zacharia, and Abd el Baki. The Khalifa had come into action riding a horse. As that did not suit him he changed for a camel and, finding the latter position too dangerously conspicuous, rode off the field on donkey-back. Perhaps the most concise summing up of the battle fell from a "Tommy's" lips: "Them dervishes are good uns, and no mistake. They came on in thousands on thousands to lay us out, but we shifted them fast enough."

It was not quite four o'clock, afternoon. Slatin Pasha had got news from former friends that the fugitives and townspeople would gladly surrender, so the sooner the Sirdar marched in and took possession the better. True, the Khalifa with several hundreds of followers, or mayhap a thousand or more, was yet within the central part of Omdurman. Most of his Jehadieh, it was urged, would give in at once if an opportunity were afforded them, and Abdullah could be caught. With Maxwell's brigade, Major Williams' battery and several Maxims, the Sirdar and headquarters staff pushed along the wide thoroughfare that leads from the north past the west end of the great rectangular wall, towards the Mosque inclosure and Mahdi's tomb. The infantry, guns, and Maxims preceded but a few paces in front. Vile beyond description was Omdurman, its dwellings, streets, lanes, and spaces. Beasts pay more regard to sanitation than dervishes. Pools of slush and stagnant water abounded. Dead animals in all stages of decomposition lay there in hundreds and thousands. There were besides littering the place camels, horses, donkeys, dead and wounded fresh from the battle-field. And there were many other ghastly sights. Dead and wounded dervishes lay in pools of blood in the roadway. Several of the dying enemy grimly saluted the staff as we passed. An Emir who, horribly mauled by a shell, lay pinned under his dead horse waved his hand and fell back a corpse. Our guns and Maxims had opened once or twice to turn the armed fugitives from the town. The compounds and huts were full of wounded and unwounded dervishes, most of the latter having Remingtons and waist-belts full of cartridges, besides carrying spears and swords. In the open thoroughfares there were many bodies of women and children lying stark and stiff. The majority of these victims were young girls. Many of the poor creatures had evidently been running towards the river to try and escape when caught and killed by jealous and cruel masters or husbands. The scenes were shocking, the smells abominable and quite overpowering to many who sought to ride in with the General.

There was something like a reception for the Sirdar on his entering the town. The women and children, mostly slaves, filled the thoroughfares, and in their peculiar guinea-fowl cackling fashion cheered the troops. Notables in jibbehs, which they had not yet had time to turn inside out, as nearly every native did afterwards, came and salaamed, smote their breasts, and kissed the hands and even the garments' hem of the Sirdar and his staff. In truly Oriental fashion they completed the ceremonial of obeisance and fealty by throwing dust upon their already frowsy enough heads. It was curious to watch the various recognitions extended to Slatin, and how the latter did not forget his old friends, who had been kind to him, or his Eastern manners in exchanging courtesies. When they realised that we were not cannibals, which they did very quickly, and that the Khalifa and others must have deceived them, they ran about amongst the troops. It was with difficulty at times the ranks were kept clear of them. Our Western leniency surprised them. The Sirdar shook hands with certain of the notables, including several of the Greeks and Jaalin. One of the most extraordinary incidents was the appearance of the Khalifa's own band with drums and horns to play in the 13th Soudanese. Evidently it was a case of black relations, for they played the battalion, Major Smith-Dorian's, out as well as into town on the following day.

The people were ordered to carry the good news about that none who gave up their arms would be killed or hurt, and that there was no intention on our part to sack the town or injure anybody. What? A captured city in the Soudan not to be given over to the victorious troops to do with as they liked! I am sure the natives of both sexes were amazed. And I cannot say all looked quite satisfied at the announcement. The crowd in the streets quickly increased; they evidently believed that we meant them no harm, and that they could do as they liked. In the bombardment the Lyddite shells had knocked down a gateway leading into the buildings and square mile of town enclosed by the great rectangular stone wall built by the Khalifa. For a space of fifty yards, several big holes had been blown in the structure, which was fourteen feet high and over four feet in thickness. Some of these breaches led into the beit-el-mal, or public granary. A few wretched, hungry slaves ventured to help themselves to the grain, chiefly dhura, that had partly poured out into the street. No one interfered with them. Within half an hour all the women and children in the town apparently, to the number of several thousands, were running pell-mell to loot the granary. Men also joined in plundering the Khalifa's storehouse. They ran against our horses, tripped over each other and fell in their crazy haste to fill sacks, skins, and nondescript vessels of all sorts—metal, wood and clay—with grain. Women staggered under burdens that would assure their households of food for months. It became a saturnalia and jubilee for the long, half-starved slaves, men and women. By-and-by looting became more general. The houses of Emirs who had run away or been killed were entered and plundered by the populace. Donkeys were caught and loaded with spoils of war, and driven off to huts on the outskirts near where the troops bivouacked after their long and fatiguing day. During the earlier part of that night there was much noise and hubbub in Omdurman with constant firing of rifles. Maxwell's men, however, assisted by numbers of friendly Jaalin, finally succeeded in enforcing something like order and peace.



After the reception near the centre of the town the Sirdar proceeded with part of Colonel Maxwell's brigade along the west side of the big wall. Osman Digna's house was passed on the way. We got as far as the south-west corner into full view of the Mahdi's tomb, which was about 400 yards to the east. In the same direction and equidistant was the Khalifa's house. Beside us was the Praying Square or Mosque, a space of bare ground of about ten acres or so in extent. As soon as the troops got beyond the big wall and in sight of the tomb and Khalifa's house, a brisk fusilade from Remingtons by the Jehadieh body-guard protecting Abdullah was opened against us. Fortunately, the big stone wall was not loopholed on either side. Indeed there appeared to be no provision for its defenders to fire from it unless they mounted to the top. The Sirdar and staff fell back, and the guns and Maxims went forward a little. Maxwell's men then dealt with the enemy, and the Sirdar, still led by Slatin Pasha, whom the dervishes called "Saladin," turned back to try and make his way through the breaches in the north wall. Troops were sent in to clear the compound of dervishes, most of whom surrendered at once. But exit upon the south side was barred by interior walls and gates. Then the Sirdar essayed going along by the river's margin between the wall, the Nile, and the forts, to turn the south-east angle. A sharp and accurate fire from the Jehadieh stopped that advance for a time. Gunboats were ordered forward to drive the dervishes from their cover. The soldiers pushed farther through the compound, and the gunboats swept the Jehadieh with Maxims and quick-firing cannon. About 5 p.m., with the shadows rapidly lengthening, the rough way between the river and the great wall was partly cleared of the enemy. Thereupon the Sirdar and staff forded a dirty, wide creek, the crossing being girth high, and trotted a few hundred yards up stream. With double teams, four guns of the 32nd Battery, Major Williams', were got across the pool, accompanying the headquarters.

Entering a gateway through the outer rectangular wall, the force moved towards the Mahdi's tomb and the Khalifa's chief residence or palace. The Sirdar and staff reined up before Abdullah's doorway, for the dervish leader's house was surrounded by an inner wall and various small buildings. We were in a higgledy-piggledy looking corner, surrounded by rough shelters or stables for animals, horses and camels, and the unfinished but covered approaches to the Mahdi's tomb. The staff sat on horseback facing the doorway and dwelling; I pulled in opposite beside an angle of the wall. Upon the Sirdar's right were some corrugated iron roofed sheds, and a little in front the Praying Square. Behind was the Mahdi's tomb, and at no great distance various important dervish buildings. Abdullah had so planted himself that he had easy and private access to all places of public resort as well as the official quarters.



Slatin Pasha, Colonel Maxwell, and several soldiers, with one or two others, went in and searched for the Khalifa. A few minutes previously he had slipped out by a back door with the more important part of his personal treasures. His harem had been sent away earlier in the day. Mr Hubert Howard, correspondent of the New York Herald and the London Times, was near the headquarters staff. He came over to where I was and chatted. To a companion who had joined me he offered some cigarettes. He said it had been a splendid day, and he had seen much. Nothing could have been better than the way things turned out, and he was glad he had been through it from first to last, cavalry charge included. Then he said he would like to get a photograph or two of the surroundings and the Khalifa's house. I told him the light was spent and he could get no good results. He said he would try, and rode inside the courtyard. A minute or less later, there was the roar and crash of a shrapnel shell, which burst over our heads in very dangerous proximity. The iron and bullets struck the walls and rattled upon the corrugated iron roofs alongside. "That," I said to my companion and an artillery officer hard by, "was one of our own guns." The officer, Major Williams, I think, replied he feared indeed that it was so. A similar opinion was apparently entertained by the Sirdar and staff, for gallopers were sent to the officer in charge of the two guns of the 32nd Battery left on the west side of the wall in the main thoroughfare, to cease firing at once. Before riding up to the Khalifa's door the Sirdar had hailed the gunboats, and one of them, the "Sultan," came near enough inshore for us to converse with those on board and for the commander to receive orders to stop all firing at Abdullah's quarters. A few seconds after the first shrapnel burst, another pitched over our heads, aimed apparently like the previous one at the Khalifa's compound. Indeed, it appeared so later, for those of our men at the south-west corner of the wall saw a number of armed Jehadieh who were gathering behind Abdullah's compound. The Maxims also opened fire on what was probably a body of the enemy covering Abdullah's retirement, and who, at any rate, were firing at the troops. Immediately after the second shell exploded the Sirdar and headquarters rode off, returning by the road we entered, to the main thoroughfare upon the west side of the enclosing wall. I remained a few minutes longer, two shells bursting overhead in the interval, and with my companion retraced our steps, rejoining the headquarters' following. Mr Hubert Howard was struck upon the side of the head by a bullet or fragment of a shell and killed instantly. His body was removed and covered up by Colonel Maxwell and his men.



Arrangements were made for the instant pursuit of the Khalifa, who, I was told, only left his palace about five o'clock or sometime after we had penetrated into Omdurman. Notables and dervishes who came in to us were freely used by the staff to run hither and thither conveying intimation to all their friends, that the war being over they should lay down their arms. In that way the news of the collapse of Mahdism was widely spread, and bands of thirty and forty of the Jehadieh and even of the Baggara surrendered. The presence of our Soudanese soldiers facilitated matters, for they saw in them, at any rate, countrymen. I had no difficulty in persuading several large groups of dervishes, whom I could see from my horse inside their compounds, to come out into the lanes or roadway and lay down their rifles. By such means the headquarters' advance through the town was made possible and relatively easy. The sun had set and darkness was upon us before the Sirdar and staff, going at times in single file, reached the common prison where the Assouan merchant, Charles Neufeld, was confined. Whilst accompanying a convoy of rifles presented by the Egyptian Government in 1886 to Sheikh Saleh of the friendly Kabbabish tribe, Neufeld had been captured by a party of dervishes. Like the other European prisoners who fell into their hands, he had undergone great hardships and experienced all the trials of misfortune. Neufeld and several hundred natives who had incurred the Khalifa's ire or distrust were found in a pestilential enclosure less than an acre in extent, surrounded by mud-walls. All of them wore heavy leg chains, and a few were handcuffed besides. The principal jail deliveries were by disease and the gallows; the latter were almost daily in use. Three rough sets of them stood together near the great wall. Limbs of trees stuck into the ground, with a cross-piece overhead, that was how the gallows were fashioned. A last victim of the Khalifa was cut down shortly after the troops entered Omdurman.



Neufeld was found under a mat-covered lean-to built against the mud-wall. There was no other protection for the prisoners from sunshine or rain than coarse worn matting spread upon sticks and laid against the walls. The enclosure was without any sanitary arrangements whatever. A well had been dug near the middle of the yard and from there the prisoners drew all the water they used. The Sirdar conversed with the prisoner, and a fruitless effort was made to find the jailer and have Neufeld's irons removed. Ultimately, when night had quite fallen and it was pitch dark, Neufeld was set upon an officer's horse, and the Sirdar and headquarters bringing him with them rode outside to where the main body of the army was bivouacking upon the desert, north of Omdurman. Later on I found means to have Neufeld's irons removed. He had three sets of leg irons fastened round his ankles; a heavy bar weighing fourteen pounds, and two thick chains above that. The heavy rings upon the legs we could not get off without other appliances than a hammer and iron wedge, so they were left to be removed next day on the gunboat "Sheik." It was found necessary on that occasion to grip the rings in a vice and cut them with a cold chisel. We, however, so freed his limbs that he could walk. Having written a second batch of despatches by the light of a guttering candle and handed them to the press censor, we lay down in our clothes to try and sleep—no easy thing to do when you had to hold the bridle of your hungry horse the while, and other equally restless Arab steeds were, after their manner, seeking to eat him or kick him to pieces. We were without food or water, for in the thrice altered camping grounds our servants had got lost. In a flurry between dozing and waking we spent the night, hoping for the morrow. When it came there was daylight but no breakfast. Indeed, it was not until the afternoon of the 3rd September that our servants and baggage re-appeared.



CHAPTER XIII.

CLOSE OF CAMPAIGN.—GORDON MEMORIAL SERVICE, KHARTOUM.



Although the beginning of a campaign often drags, the ending is usually abrupt. With the defeat and flight of Abdullah, Mahdism became a thing of the past. True, there were several minor engagements fought later against isolated recalcitrant bodies of dervishes who were too loyal to their old leaders. But these affairs in no way affected the result achieved upon the battle-field of Omdurman. During the night or early morning of the 2nd and 3rd of September, Colonel Macdonald's brigade advanced into the city to help to keep the peace, and to secure the surrender of all the armed bands of the enemy. Large bodies of dervishes were still moving about both within and without Omdurman. I had myself seen many hundreds of natives set out about dusk to revisit the battle-field in search of plunder, to rescue wounded friends, and to bury their dead kinsmen. Those who showed a peaceable disposition were not molested, but all with arms were arrested and penned under guards in the Praying Square. Many prisoners were secured on the battle-field, but relatively only a few thousands. On 3rd September and following days enormous numbers surrendered, coming into town or being sent in by the cavalry and friendlies. In fact, they became so numerous that it was found almost impossible to deal with them. When dervishes of the Jaalin and other tribes that had abandoned Mahdism came in they were at once told to behave themselves, and were allowed to go where they liked. The townsfolk and others who wished to be let alone, turned their jibbehs inside out, at once a renunciation of the Khalifa and his works as well as a sanitary gain. Some there were who, averse to over-cleanliness, simply tore the dervish patches off their dress, thus also resuming their fealty to the Khedive. The roll of prisoners, however, in spite of convenient blindness in letting all the lesser men who wished to escape do so, swelled to about 11,000. In a house to house visitation the more important rebel sheikhs and Baggara in hiding were caught and kept under arrest with their followers. All the Greeks and the local chiefs whom Slatin Pasha knew to be secretly inimical to the dervish rule, were from the first secured safe permits and absolute liberty. Among them were many of the Mahdi's relatives, former rulers of tribes, and Emirs once high in power. Of wounded dervishes over 9000 were treated by the British and Egyptian Army Medical Staffs, although the doctors' hands were busy enough for two days with our own sick and wounded.



Within twenty-four hours after the Sirdar's entry Omdurman began to assume the signs of orderly government. Thousands of the prisoners as well as the natives were set to work to clean up the place. The wounded were all carried into temporary hospitals and the dead were decently interred in Moslem burial-places out upon the desert. Then the thoroughfares were scrupulously scavengered by gangs of yesterday's furious foemen, blacks and Baggara. The dead things were put under ground, and the stagnant pools were drained or filled in. Within a week it became actually possible to walk without an attack of violent nausea in Omdurman. Visits were constantly paid to the battle-field for the double purpose of rescuing any wounded dervishes there might be and counting the dead. The large number of the enemy who for days survived shocking wounds, to which a European would have instantly or speedily succumbed, was appalling. These wretched creatures had been seen crawling or dragging themselves for miles to get to the Nile for water or into villages for succour. Food and water were sent out to them by the Sirdar's orders on the day after the battle, when it was seen that the natives gave neither heed nor help to other than their own immediate kinsmen upon the field. Even in the town rations were distributed to the needy. The gunboats going up and down the river saw many sorry sights. Wounded dervishes were lying by hundreds along the river's bank. Some, whose thirst had maddened them, had drunk copiously, and then swooned and died, their heads and shoulders covered with water and the rest of their bodies stretched upon the strand. General Gatacre and Lieut. Wood on riding to revisit the zereba near Kerreri, met a dervish, part of one of whose legs had been blown off by a shell. The man was hobbling along, leaning upon a broken spear handle, making for Omdurman, with his limb burned and roughly tied up. They gave him food and water and passed on meeting others. A mile away, the mounted orderly drew the General's attention to an object upon the ground with the exclamation: "Blest if it isn't that bloke's foot!" which sure enough was the case. A number of officers were told off to count the enemy's dead upon the battle-field. Sections of the ground were assigned to each. The actual count was 10,800 dead bodies, which did not include all the slain, for there were those who died in Omdurman, and afar upon the desert. One of the officers wrote, "I won't enter into details of our day's work. It suffices to say, that a piece of cotton-wool soaked in eucalyptus placed in the nostrils and an ample supply of neat brandy were only just sufficient to keep us on our legs for the six hours that we were at the job." He and two others had undertaken to make a sketch in addition to helping to count the slain. Unfortunately, the sketch was lost.

And all might have been otherwise, for the Sirdar offered before the battle to treat with the Khalifa. Here is the copy of the letter, as translated and published, bearing upon the subject.

"30th August 1898. "Viz., 11 Rabi Akhar, "1316 (M.E.)

"From the Sirdar of the Troops, Soudan,

"To Abdulla, son of Mohamed El-Taaishi, Head of the Soudan.

"Bear in your mind that your evil deeds throughout the Soudan, particularly your murdering a great number of the Mohammedans without cause or excuse, besides oppression and tyranny, necessitated the advance of my troops for the destruction of your throne, in order to save the country from your devilish doings and iniquity. Inasmuch as there are many in your keeping for whose blood you are held responsible—innocent, old, and infirm, women and children and others—abhorring you and your government, who are guilty of nothing; and because we have no desire that they should suffer the least harm, we ask you to have them removed from the Dem (literally, enclosure) to a place where the shells of guns and bullets of rifles shall not reach them. If you do not do so, the shells and bullets cannot recognise them and will consequently kill them, and afterwards you will be responsible before God for their blood.

"Stand firm you and your helpers only in the field of battle to meet the punishment prepared for you by the praised God. But if you and your Emirs incline to surrender to prevent blood being shed, we shall receive your envoy with due welcome, and be sure that we shall treat you with justice and peace.

"(Sealed) KITCHENER, "Sirdar of the Troops in the Soudan."

Colonel Maxwell was appointed Commandant of Omdurman, and his brigade was quartered in the town, detachments occupying the principal buildings. Among the places so held were the Arsenal, the Khalifa's and his son the Sheikh Ed Din's houses, the Treasury, Tomb and Mosque enclosure. The rest of the troops were moved two miles to the north of the town, where a camp was formed along the river bank. Omdurman was too abominably dirty to risk keeping a single soldier in the place other than was absolutely necessary. Not an hour was wasted. The Sirdar's practice was—abundant work for each day and all plans prepared ahead for the next. The submission of sheikhs and their followers had to be received, the pursuit of the Khalifa pressed, wounded dervishes and prisoners provided for, as well as the thousands of poor in Omdurman helped in various ways. Then there had to be arranged-for the disposal of the spoils of war, repatriation for many of Abdullah's enforced subjects, the formal re-occupation of Khartoum, and the immediate despatch back to Lower Egypt of the British troops whose services were no longer required. All this and much more was done, nor am I aware that anything was neglected, not even the correspondents, who were evidently too seldom far removed from the General's thoughts. Hurrying into the town early on Saturday morning, 3rd September, to attend Howard's funeral, I found that within half an hour after sunrise all the dead dervishes, with the murdered women and children, had been removed to the native burial-grounds outside Omdurman. In my rambles in the capital that day I visited the only two passable dwellings in the place, Abdullah's and his son Osman's. Both houses had a pretence of tidiness and comfort, particularly the Sheikh Ed Din's. There were paved courtyards, doors, windows with shutters, plastered walls, cupboards, benches, and ottomans. In each there were several rooms furnished in a rude style with articles of European manufacture. Of glass-ware, crockery, and large mirrors there was an abundance. The Khalifa's favourite reception-room and a chamber in the harem were almost covered with big looking-glasses. Angry Jaalin and others who had forced an entrance on the previous day, or else mayhap the Lyddite bombs, had smashed the mirrors and most of the domestic ware into atoms. Spears and swords had been freely used to hack the furniture and fittings about. A wealth of printed and manuscript books and papers in Arabic characters were scattered, torn, and thrown into a shed.

The kitchens, stables and outhouses were odorously barbaric in squalor. They were in strange contrast to any of the rooms in the rabbit warren of attached dwelling-places within the Khalifa's private compound. Around the Mahdi's tomb were great splashes of human blood. On the previous evening I had seen many dead dervishes lying in that vicinity. In their credulous faith in Mohamed Achmed they had flocked there for safety, only to be killed by our fire. Of 120 who were praying around the tomb when a 50-lb. Lyddite shell burst, but eighteen escaped alive, and these were sorely wounded. The tomb, carefully stuccoed over inside and out, was built of stone and well-burned bricks. The base of the square wall from which the cone-shaped dome sprang was over six feet thick, the vaulted roof tapering to about eighteen inches at the apex. Great holes had been knocked in the north-east side, and the rubbish had tumbled in, breaking the brass and iron grille round the catafalque. Beneath, covered by two huge blocks of stone, lay Mohamed Achmed's remains. Early that day violent hands were laid on the brass rails in the outer windows and grille. The catafalque was stripped of its black and red cloth covering, and the wood-work was totally destroyed. All the yellow lettered panels, with texts from the Koran and the Mahdi's prayer-book, as well as the blue and yellow scroll work, were smashed or carried off by relic-hunters. The false prophet was so speedily discredited that not a dervish amongst the tens of thousands but regarded these and the subsequent proceedings with complete indifference. To destroy utterly the legend of Mohamed Achmed's mission, when the British troops had returned to Cairo the Mahdi's body was disinterred. It had been roughly embalmed and the features were said to be recognisable. The common people who saw the remains almost doubted their senses, for it had been given out that the Mahdi had merely gone off on a visit to heaven and would shortly return. That his body was found surprised them, as they thought he had gone aloft in the flesh, the object of the tomb being to mark the spot where he took leave of the earth and would return to it. Perhaps it may be deplored that Mohamed Achmed's remains were broken up, part being cast into the Nile, whilst the head and other portions of the body were retained for presentation, it is said, to medical colleges. There were those who thought that the wisest course would have been to expose the remains for all to see them who cared to, and then to hand them over to the natives to bury in one of their cemeteries as if he had been an ordinary man. But the Soudan is not Europe, nor are its inhabitants amenable to measures eminently satisfactory to civilised northern races. The tomb was subsequently levelled to the ground by an explosion of gun-cotton and the debris was cleared away.

I had a good look over the Khalifa's war arsenal. There were plenty of cannon, old and new, as well as machine guns, rifles, pistols, and fowling pieces of all kinds. Musical instruments, war-drums, elephants' tusks used as horns, coats of chain-mail old and new, and steel helmets. Most of the latter are quite modern, being part of 600 supplied by a London firm of sword makers—Wilkinson & Co., Pall Mall, to a former Khedive's body-guard. Somehow these plate and chain crusader-like head-pieces seem all to have drifted south. There were hundreds of dervish battle flags, including several duplicate black silk banners such as the Khalifa carried during the action, and thousands of native spears, swords, and shields. In short, it would be easier to tell what was not in that extraordinary storehouse than what was. Among other articles I saw were: Ivory, powder, percussion caps, old lead, copper, tin, bronze, cloth, looms, pianos, sewing machines, agricultural implements, boilers, steam-engines, ostrich feathers, gum, hippopotamus hides, iron and wooden bedsteads, drums, bugles, field glasses—Lieutenant Charles Grenfell's, lost at El Teb in the Eastern Soudan in 1883, were found there—bolts, zinc, rivets, paints, india-rubber, leather, boots, knapsacks, water-bottles, flags, and clothes. There were three state coaches—one of them might at a pinch have served for the Lord Mayor—and an American buggy. They needed a little retrimming, but there was harness and material enough to have rigged out the four vehicles in style. In short, the arsenal held the jettisoned cargo of the whole aforetime Egyptian Soudan, with much besides drawn from Abyssinia and Central Africa. Truly, the Khalifa must have been a strange man, with a fine acquisitive instinct abnormally cultivated.



Neufeld, quite contrary to Slatin Pasha's way of speaking, declared to me that the Khalifa was not at all a bad sort of man, nor an exceptionally cruel Arab task-master, and certainly not a monster. The Khalifa, he said, had often come and chatted with him. Abdullah had vowed to him, that if he were able to have his own way he would make a close friend of him, and have him always near his person. The Khalifa asserted he liked white men, admired their knowledge and ability, and would, were he permitted, have many of them in Khartoum. As everybody knew, he befriended the Greeks, because he could do that with safety, for the natives were not so jealous of them as of other white men. The Taaisha were, he declared, absurdly suspicious of his intercourse with Neufeld, and were always bringing him tales, to try and get him to kill all the white men without exception. His countrymen's jealous, narrow fanaticism annoyed him, but what, he asked, could he do, for he was very much in their power, and unable to afford to fly in their faces? Abdullah often spoke thus, according to Neufeld, and, as the latter also said, frequently that leader of the fanatical dervishes exhibited keen interest in acquiring information about Europe and its people. He hoped to make peace some day with the outside world, and be allowed thereafter to rule the Soudan. All this, I submit, is rather puzzling, in view of the filthy den the Khalifa kept Neufeld shut up in, and the manner in which he loaded him with heavy leg-irons. During his captivity, Neufeld had with him an Abyssinian girl, or rather woman. She was taken prisoner with him. Thereafter she devotedly ministered to his wants, fetched water and food, and made, under his tuition, really eatable bread. Neufeld, who said he met me in 1884-85, up the Nile, when he was attached to the army, gave me a piece of this bread, and I found it quite palatable. Yeast is easily made in the Soudan with sour dough and sugar.

As arsenals mayhap date back to the eras of Tubal Cain and Vulcan, it was to be expected the Khalifa would also have his modern smithy. He made his own gunpowder, shells, and bullets, and the metallic cases for his troops' Remington rifles. The country was laid under contribution to supply copper for that purpose, and he essayed the filling of percussion caps with fulminate, not over successfully I hope. He had his cartridge manufactory, and a very well equipped engineer shop as well. Yea, the potentate was setting up a Zoo, wherein I saw three young lions chained to posts by neck collars, as though those savage beasts were watch-dogs. As for the engineer shop, with foundry and smithy attached, the Beit el Mauna, it was part of a cleverly planned square of buildings with a river frontage and a spacious yard. The designer was one El Osta Abdullah, a former employee of General Gordon's in Khartoum Arsenal. There were several steam engines; the principal one driving the main shafting was of 28 horse-power. The fly-wheel was 4 feet in diameter. There were five lathes, one cat-head lathe—36 inch, three drills, and other tools including a slotting machine, all in perfect going order. The machinery had formed part of the dismantled Khartoum Arsenal, and had been removed into Omdurman to be nearer the watchful eyes of Yacoub, who superintended the workshops, though destitute of mechanical knowledge. El Osta was the foreman and had numbers of natives, free and prisoners, under him. There were plenty of crucibles for iron as well as brass smelting. The blasts of furnaces and smithy fires were served from fanners driven by machinery. There were paint shops and stores, the floors of which were laid in bricks. In truth, the arsenal was in process of extension. Two more engines for the shop were in course of completion. The steamers disabled or wrecked in the 1885 campaign had all been recovered and overhauled by the dervishes. They were sagacious enough to make use of all the skilled labour to be found amongst the Turkish and Egyptian prisoners who fell into their hands. Although the Khalifa's river steamers, recaptured by the Sirdar, could steam fully as well as ever, their hulls and decks were dreadfully rotten and dilapidated, not a pound of paint nor any fresh timber having been used upon them in all the intervening years.

"Is that mean, dirty compound, with those squalid mud-huts, facing the Khalifa's big wall, Osman Digna's house?" I asked. "Yes," said my native informant, "that is the house of the robber-chief, Osman Digna." I entered and found within only a few wretched slaves and poor Hadendowas. Osman, like the Khalifa, had given us the slip, leaving behind such of his people as he thought of no value, and hurrying away with all his women and treasure towards the south. They had horses and camels, and upon the best of them they decamped. Several of the notorious Osman Digna's tribal retainers were caught. These wretched Hadendowas were, I was told, glad to be permitted subsequently to return to their own country. Over 300 Abyssinians were amongst our prisoners. They had volunteered or been coerced into joining the dervish ranks. All of them were surprised to find themselves kindly treated. In due course, those who cared to go—men, women and children—were provided with free passages back to Abyssinia. The Sirdar held several receptions, whereat the principal native leaders and sheikhs attended. Amongst others delighted at the overthrow of the Khalifa were all the survivors of the old Khedivial army, who had been abandoned to their fate for years. Of these were the whilom Governor of Senaar, a native artillery officer who had been with Hicks Pasha, and Gordon Pasha's native medical attendant.

During the week after the battle the British and Khedivial troops, by brigades, made triumphal marches into and through Omdurman. Proceeding from our camp with flags flying and bands playing, they went along the main thoroughfares to the Tomb and Mosque, returning by a circuitous route to quarters. The ex-dervishes and other natives flocked in thousands to see the finely-equipped and well-disciplined battalions led by the Sirdar. It was an exhibition of power they quite understood, and one which won from them open praise at the gallant bearing of our soldiery. The immediate effect was to produce a feeling of deep respect for the authority of the new order of things.

When it was found that the Khalifa had escaped by the south end of Omdurman, Colonel Broadwood, with his two regiments of Egyptian cavalry and the Camel Corps, started in pursuit. Gunboats also proceeded up the White Nile to head off the fugitives. Unfortunately as there had been a very general rainfall, the desert routes towards Kordofan were not absolutely waterless. The cavalry soon found that they were upon a hot trail; and men, women, and children, who had been unable to keep pace with the flying Khalifa and Osman Digna, were picked up. Some of these, no doubt, had purposely given their master the slip. It was in that way that Abdullah's chief wife, the Sheikh Ed Din's mother, was caught and brought in by the "friendlies." One poor woman, just confined, had the babe, a male, taken away by her lord, whilst she was left to shift for herself. Happily, her life was saved.

As I have said relatively little about the Egyptian cavalry, I will let one of their officers tell what they did. Colonel Broadwood had under him a magnificent body of officers, British and Egyptian. Captain Legge of the 20th Hussars was the brigade-major. The narrative in question was given to me a few days after the victory.

"The Sirdar's orders on the morning of the battle to Colonel Broadwood were, to take up successive positions on his (the Sirdar's) right flank, and to prevent the enemy's left from overlapping too far. The fear was that the dervishes might attack upon the north or weakest side of the zereba. After rejoining the infantry towards the end of the assault made on Macdonald's brigade we were formed into two lines. Turning our backs to the Nile, that is, facing west, we galloped in pursuit of the retreating dervishes. For four miles we rode forward without check. Then we wheeled to the left, towards Omdurman, and swept the country on the right front of the Sirdar over a width of four miles. We were shot at repeatedly, and sometimes heavily, by bands of fugitives, but we never drew rein, using lance and sword upon all who showed fight. In that draw we made 1000 prisoners, breaking the Remingtons of those who had rifles and sending our captives under escort of a squadron to the Sirdar. When close to Omdurman we came across a large body of dervishes full of 'buck.' Four of our squadrons went for them. They charged clean through them, wheeled, and charged back again. That took the sting out of them, though there were still individual dervishes who would keep trying to charge us. Colonel Broadwood came up at that juncture with the supports, whereupon the enemy all bolted for the hills. At 2 p.m. we reported to headquarters, and, following the infantry, went to water our horses at the Nile. The same afternoon we passed through part of Omdurman and went out upon the open desert to the south-west. At 6.30 p.m. Slatin Pasha brought us orders to start immediately in pursuit of the Khalifa. We went on as best we could until 8.30 p.m., without food or water. Trying to run in towards the river to procure both, for a gunboat was to carry our supplies, we found it was impossible to get within two miles of the Nile owing to the overflow having turned the margin into boggy land. Besides, the bushy inaccessible ground was teeming with hostile dervishes. We had missed our way. Without off-saddling, we bivouacked where we were, forming square. At 4 a.m. we mounted and rode on, going until 8.30 a.m., when we got down to the river. There Slatin Pasha quitted us, returning to Omdurman. We halted for an hour, watered and fed our poor horses, and had a bite for ourselves. Then we remounted and rode fifteen miles farther south. We had reached a point just thirty-five miles south of Omdurman. Our horses had been going almost continuously for four days previously, the forage was finished, and the animals exhausted, so we again halted. Supplies had been ordered forward to that spot, but the overflow prevented us from being able to get near enough the native boats to draw upon them for stores. We decided to bivouac there and take our chance of being able somehow to get at the boats. Next morning we were ordered back into Omdurman. Slatin Pasha had learned from fugitives and natives that the Khalifa was still twenty-five miles ahead of us. Abdullah had with him 100 Taaisha Baggara, and had procured fresh camels and horses, so was 'going strong,' too good for us to catch up. The riverside country people could not credit that we had defeated the Khalifa and taken Omdurman. On our way back we picked up six of Osman Digna's Hadendowas. They said Osman was riding with the Khalifa, showing him the tracks and bypaths, with all of which he was familiar. We heard that neither Osman nor the Khalifa was wounded, and that Sheikh Ed Din was likewise untouched."

It has been too readily accepted that the Black, although an incomparably fine infantry-man, would not make a good trooper. There are Blacks and Blacks as there are "Browns and Browns." Many of the negroid races of the Central Soudan are excellent horsemen. The dash of the Khalifa's mounted men was superb. So it came about that after Omdurman the Sirdar decided to reinforce the Egyptian cavalry with a newly raised squadron or two composed entirely of Blacks. Ex-dervishes of suitable smartness and physique were permitted to join the new body, the ranks of which were filled in a very short time, for hundreds eagerly volunteered. The accounts I have since heard of the 1st Black Cavalry are eminently favourable. There can be no doubt about one thing,—whatever may be said of fellaheen troopers, the Blacks will charge home.

Another matter that merits a little more detail is the action fought by Major Stuart Wortley's "friendlies," and the work accomplished by the flotilla under Commander Keppel, R.N. It was the gunboats that transported the British infantry from their camps at Dakhala and Darmali so smartly to Wad Habeshi. Their assistance in that respect reduced the campaign from one of months to days, and lessened the risks to the troops. Eight steamers arrived at Dakhala on one occasion, and the transport department did its duty so well that they were loaded and despatched back up stream within twenty-four hours. Royan Island had not only been made a depot of stores, but a sanatorium where sick officers and men were sent as a "pick 'em up." An order from the Sirdar on the 30th of August was wired to Royan, to find 235 men and 8 officers who were well enough to man the gunboats, to be in short amateur marines. At that date there were 327 sick upon the island. Most of them were eager to get to the front, but the doctors would not certify that any of them were able to bear the fatigue of marching. There was therefore great rejoicing among the more convalescent, for they had begun to despair of seeing the fight. The hospital state showed that there were then at Royan 46 men of the Warwicks, 69 of the Lincolns, 62 of the Seaforths, 36 of the Camerons, 19 of the Grenadier Guards, 42 of the Northumberland Fusiliers, 42 of the Lancashire Fusiliers, and 21 of the Rifles. From 25 to 40 men were marched on board each of the gunboats the same day. Captain Ferguson of the Northumberland Fusiliers became marine officer on board the "Sultan," Lieutenant Allardice went to the "Sheik," Lieutenant Seymour of the Grenadier Guards to the "Melik," Captain Ritchie to the "Nazir," Lieutenant Arbuthnot to the "El Hafir," and Lieutenant Jackson and other officers respectively to the "Tamai," "Fatah," "Metemmeh," etc.

On the 31st of August the "Melik" kept abreast of the cavalry acting as a screen. At noon of the same day the "Sultan" and the "Melik" and "Nazir" were sent to shell the dervish tents and tukals seen to the east of Kerreri village. The enemy were found in some force, about 3500 strong. Eight or ten shrapnel were fired into their zerebaed camp. Right in the middle of the tents the first shell burst. The dervishes struck their camp instantly, and mounted men and footmen ran to the hills, their flight quickened by the gunboats' Maxims. Their zereba was burned. South Kerreri village was found unoccupied. The steamers proceeded a little further up stream, had a look at Tuti Island, and on the west bank caught sight of a body of dervishes, Emir Zaccharia's men, who also had a taste of shrapnel and Maxims.

On the 1st of September at 5.30 a.m. the steamers "Sultan," "Melik," "Sheik," "Nazir," "Fatah," "Tamai," and "Abu Klea" went again up the river to destroy the forts and land the 50-pounder Lyddite howitzer battery on Tuti Island, whence it was to shell Omdurman. Major Stuart Wortley and part of his force were also to be transferred to that island to support Major Elmslie's battery and clear off any dervishes. It was found, as I have already stated, that Tuti was unsuitable as a position, and the Lyddite guns were landed instead upon the east or right bank of the river. The "Sultan" opened the attack, firing at the forts and pitching shells into Omdurman. In a short time the other gunboats came to her assistance, and the mud forts, of which there were a dozen or more, were promptly silenced. Several of the dervish gunners' shells, however, only missed the steamers that were their target by a very few yards. Happily the embrasures of the forts were so badly made, that the enemy had but a small angle of fire. It was in more than one instance impossible for the dervish guns to train except straight to their front. The flotilla passed down behind Tuti Island, going by the east bank, and were brought-to below the island. There the 37th R.A. Battery was landed, and the Lyddite shell fire was directed against the great wall and the Mahdi's tomb, the range of the latter being 3200 yards. Many dervishes were seen in and around Omdurman, and a number were noticed upon the right bank. Two of the gunboats remained all night to protect the Lyddite battery, using their electric search-lights to detect any lurking dervishes. The steamers fired that day several hundred shells and 8000 rounds from their Maxims. Captain Prince Christian Victor was attached on board the "Sultan," and Prince Teck, who had a sharp attack of fever and had temporarily to abandon his squadron in the Egyptian cavalry, saw that and the next day's battle from one of the other gunboats.

On the 2nd of September the "Melik" ran a little way up stream before sunrise and then returned. In the first stage of the battle the "Nazir," "Fatah," "Sheik," "El Hafir" and another protected the south front of the Sirdar's camp, whilst the "Sultan," "Melik" and "Tamai" guarded the north end of it. There were over 100 shells were fired from the "Sultan" at 3000 to 2800 yards ranges. The "Melik" found the enemy's columns with their quick-firing 15 pounders at under 1500 yards range on one occasion. During the second phase of the battle, the "Melik" dropped again down stream, and struck Sheikh Ed Din's column as the enemy advanced to attack Macdonald's brigade, treating the dervishes to all her artillery. When Omdurman was occupied by the troops the flotilla again rendered valuable help. After the action the gunboats were sent, part up the White, part up the Blue Nile, to carry the good news and break up any dervish camps. The "Sultan," "Melik," "Sheik," "Nazir," and "Fatah" proceeded up the White Nile. Commander Keppel went 115 miles south of Omdurman. He saw but few of the enemy. The country was much overflowed, the river was nearly 6 miles wide in several places, the wooded banks and bush being under water.

On the 2nd of September Major Stuart Wortley and his friendlies had a brisk engagement with Emir Isa Zaccharia. Major Elmslie had begun the day's battle at 5.30 a.m. with a salvo of his six guns, throwing the 50 lb. Lyddite shells into Omdurman. Wortley's friendlies, later on, advanced in fine style, in open order, and drove about 800 Jehadieh out of a village. About 350 were killed, including their leader. The remainder bolted off towards the Blue Nile, pursued by the Jaalin and others. At the close of the action Major Wortley, Captain Buckle, Lieut. C. Wood, and two non-commissioned English officers walked down towards the point from which Major Elmslie's battery was firing. They were seen and charged by about twenty-five dervish horsemen. Luckily, heavy, boggy land intervened, and Lieut. Wood and Major Wortley dropped the leading horsemen, when some of the Jaalin rallied and came to their assistance. The rout of the Baggara was completed, the dervish horsemen leaving eleven dead upon the field.

On Sunday morning, 4th September, the Press were invited by Headquarters to go over by steamer to Khartoum. We were told that an official ceremony which we ought not to miss was about to take place. There were an unusual number of correspondents. The previous restrictions and military objections to their presence had been made ridiculous by the widest throwing open of the door to all. The Sirdar and Headquarters embarked upon the "Melik." We found that representative detachments from all the commands in the army were being ferried over in boats and giassas towed by the steamers. From every British battalion there were present eighty-one officers and men. The 21st Lancers were represented by ten officers and twenty-four non-commissioned officers and men. Two officers and seven men were sent by each battery of artillery, and two officers and five men from the Maxim batteries. There were also representative sections from the Khedivial forces. As the steamers drew up alongside the stone-wall quay before the ruined Government House where General Gordon made his last stand, the soldiers were seen to be already in position. There was but little space between the quay wall and the buildings, for the debris of bricks and stone from the overturned structure nearly blocked up the former open promenade facing the muddy Blue Nile. The ruined walls and forts looked picturesque in their deep setting of dark-green palms, mimosa, and tall orange-trees. Compared with treeless, brown, arid Omdurman, Khartoum wore an air of romance and loveliness that well became such historic ground. An odour of blossom and fruit was wafted from the wild and spacious Mission and Government House gardens, which even the dervishes had not been able to wreck totally.



Two flagstaffs had been erected upon the top of the one-storied wall fronting the Blue Nile. The Sirdar ranged facing the building and the flagstaffs. Behind him were the Headquarters Staff, the Generals of division, and others. To his left, formed up at right angles, were the representative detachments of the Egyptian army, the 11th Soudanese, with their red heckles in their fezzes, in the front line. Upon the Sirdar's right were the detachments of Gatacre's division, each in its regimental order of seniority. Standing a few paces in front of the Sirdar, but facing him, upon a mound of earth and bricks, were the four chaplains attached to the British infantry—Presbyterian, Church of England, Roman Catholic, and Wesleyan. En passant, though it is an army secret, in nothing was the Sirdar's power and strong will more manifest than in securing the presence that day in amity of the four representatives of religion. One of the reverend gentlemen, presumably on the strength of the superior claims of his orthodoxy, refused to join in any service in which clergymen of any other denomination bore a part. The Sirdar sent a peremptory order, without a word of explanation, for that cleric to embark forthwith and return to Cairo. Instead, he hastened to Headquarters and made his peace, and had the order withdrawn. Upon their right was a small body of Royal Engineer officers, Gordon's own corps. A hundred natives or more had gathered on the outside, wondering what was going to happen. The Sirdar himself had been the first to land upon the quay and walk towards the building, the windows of which Gordon had caused to be filled in to stop entrance of the dervish bullets from Tuti. There were plenty of marks of the enemy's musketry fire, as well as the dents of shell and round shot. The former official entrance was within a littered courtyard upon the opposite side of the building. It was whilst descending the interior stairway to meet the dervishes that Gordon was hacked and slain by the fierce fanatics and his body cast into the courtyard.

Ten o'clock was the official hour notified for the ceremonial, which commenced upon a signal from the Sirdar. A British band played a few bars of "God Save the Queen." Whilst all were saluting, Lieutenant Stavely, R.N., and Captain J. Watson, A.D.C., standing on the west side of the wall ran up a brilliant silk Union Jack to the top of their flagstaff, hauling the halyard taut as the flag flapped smartly in the breeze. It had barely begun to ascend when Lieutenant Milford and Effendi Bakr, at the adjacent pole, ran up the Egyptian flag. Thereupon an Egyptian band played at some length the Khedivial hymn. At its close the Sirdar called for three cheers for "The Queen," which were given voluminously, even the natives shouting, though, perhaps, they didn't quite know why. Three cheers for the Khedive were also heartily given. Meantime the "Melik's" quick-firing guns were rolling out a royal salute, and, as usual with them, making things jump aboard the lightly built craft and smashing glass and crockery in all directions.



Ere the echo of cannon had died away another ceremony had begun. The British band played softly the "Dead March in Saul," and every head was bared in memory of Gordon. His funeral obsequies were at last taking place upon the spot where he fell. Then the Egyptian band played their quaint funeral march, and the native men and women, understanding that, and whom it was played for, raised their prolonged, shrill, wailing cry. Count Calderai, the Italian Military Attache, who stood near the Sirdar, was deeply affected, whilst Count von Tiedmann, the German Attache, who appeared in his magnificent white Cuirassier uniform on the occasion, was even more keenly impressed, a soldier's tears coursing down his cheeks. But there! Other eyes were wet, and cheeks too, as well as his, and bronzed veterans were not ashamed of it either. Sadness and bitter memories! So the Gordon legend, if you will, shall live as long as the English name endures. A brief pause, and in gentle voice and manner the Rev. John M. Sims, Presbyterian Chaplain—Gordon's faith—broke the silence. In his brief prayer he said: "Our help is in the name of the Lord who made heaven and earth." Then he observed, "Let us hear God's word as written for our instruction," reading from Psalm XV. the following verses: "Lord, who shall abide in Thy tabernacle? Who shall dwell in Thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart. He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour. In whose eyes a vile person is contemned; but he honoureth them that fear the Lord. He that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not. He that putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved." "And to God's great name shall be all the praise and glory, world without end. Amen." When Mr Sims had concluded, the Rev. A. W. B. Watson, Church of England Chaplain, recited the Lord's Prayer. Following him the Rev. R. Brindle, Roman Catholic Chaplain, prayed, saying: "O Almighty God, by whose providence are all things which come into the lives of men, whether of suffering which Thou permittest, or of joy and gladness which Thou givest, look down, we beseech Thee, with eyes of pity and compassion on this land so loved by that heroic soul whose memory we honour before Thee this day. Give back to it days of peace. Send to it rulers animated by his spirit of justice and righteousness. Strengthen them in the might of Thy power, that they may labour in making perfect the work to which he devoted and for which he gave his life. And grant to us, Thy servants, that we may copy his virtues of self-sacrifice and fortitude, so that when Thou callest we may each be able to answer, 'I have fought the good fight,'—a blessing which we humbly ask in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen."

When Father Brindle had concluded, the pipers, accompanied by muffled drums, played the Coronach as a lament. The weird Highland minstrelsy seemed quite in keeping with the place and solemn scene. Then the Khedivial band played a hymn tune, "Thy Will be Done," and the sad ceremony was closed to the boom of minute guns. Generals Rundle, Gatacre, and Hunter then stepped forward and congratulated the Sirdar upon the successful completion of his task, and the commanding officers and others, following their example, did the same. Sir Herbert acknowledged their greeting, and announced that the men would be allowed to break off for half an hour or so to go over the ruins and gardens if they wished. Everybody availed himself of the opportunity. In a few minutes a throng of officers and men who had scrambled over the debris filled the roofless rooms and packed the stairway where Gordon was struck down. I was surprised to find that even the youngest, most callow soldiers knew their Khartoum and the story of Gordon's fight and death. So deep and far had the tale travelled. There were speculations and suggestions as to how the end exactly came about that were a revelation to me, so full of information and pregnant of observation were many of the men's remarks. Throng succeeded throng in the rooms and stairways, whilst others went to explore the outhouses and the gardens. The passion flowers and the pomegranates were in bloom, but the oranges and limes were in fruit. Leaves and buds were plucked by all of us as souvenirs. Brigade-Major Snow, who was with the Camel Corps in 1884-85 across the Bayuda desert, produced a tiny bottle of champagne that was to have been drunk in Khartoum when we got there. He opened it, and shared the driblet with a few of the old campaigners. By one p.m. we were all back again in Omdurman, leaving behind two companies of the 11th Battalion to hold Khartoum for the two flags, the hoisting of which, side by side, the Egyptians regarded as natural and most proper.



CHAPTER XIV.

KHARTOUM MEMORIAL COLLEGE.—THE OFFICIAL DESPATCHES.

It was decided by the Sirdar, from whom no successful appeal was possible, that, after the occupation of Khartoum, the war correspondents had no longer any pretext for remaining in the country. There were no questions raised by the military to excuse their ruling. No more was heard about the difficulties of transport, the scarcity of provisions, and everything being required for the soldiers. Had not the keen Greek sutlers, as usual, followed the army in shoals, managing somehow to convey themselves and their goods to the front? We had not been two days encamped at Omdurman before some of these traders arrived, and, dumping their sacks and boxes by the wayside, started selling forthwith. The natives, too, speedily reassured, brought out and squatted before baskets of dates, onions, and other comestibles they were anxious to dispose of for English or Egyptian money. Rightly contemning the Khalifa's coinage as practically valueless, they refused to accept it in payment, and proffered to sell all they possessed at the price of old copper. The British troops made their triumphal entry into Omdurman on the 5th of September, and several of the correspondents left for England the same day. We who remained had a sort of Hobson's choice, either to return to Cairo on the 8th September or to remain in Omdurman out of which we should not be allowed to stir until all the British troops had gone, when we should have to leave with the last batch. Which course we should adopt was with fine humour left to be decided by a majority of ourselves. For once the Press was practically unanimous and elected to shake the dust of the Soudan from their feet, and so it came about that the war correspondents had to fold their tents and go, disposing of their quadrupeds as best they could. There was no alternative in the case of the horses between accepting any price for them or shooting them, for, in the Soudan, there being no grazing, a horse must have a master or starve. I disposed of a L40 animal for L1 and got but little more for three others. The camels and stores fetched somewhat better prices. Our servants we took back to their homes.

Yet for sundry reasons I was anxious to be allowed to remain longer in the Soudan. There was news of fighting and movement up the Blue Nile. Emir Ahmed Fadl bringing a force of 3000 dervishes from Gedarif to assist the Khalifa had been driven back by the gunboat "Sultan." More important still, rumours had reached us that the French, under Marchand, were at Fashoda. I knew that the Sirdar intended sending a force upon the gunboats up the White Nile to Fashoda and Sobat, so I made both verbal and written requests to the General for permission to accompany the expedition. That, I was told, could not be granted. We had full confirmation of the fact that Major Marchand was at Fashoda brought down to Omdurman on the 7th September by the dervish steamer "Tewfikieh." I boarded her and had a long chat with the captain (reis) and members of the crew, all of whom wore jibbehs. The little craft was an ex-Thames, above-the-bridges, penny steamer with Penn's oscillating engines. She was one of the boats Gordon sent from Khartoum in 1884 to meet the Desert Column at Metemmeh. She was, if possible, more dilapidated-looking than ever. By guarded questioning I ascertained that the "Tewfikieh" was three days out from Fashoda. She and the "Safieh," another dervish steamer, had been hotly fired upon by the French who were occupying the old Egyptian fort with 100 Senegalese or natives of Timbuctoo. A number of local natives, Shilluks, who had long been hostile to the dervishes, were co-operating with the strangers. The reis accurately described the French flag which was flying over the works and the appearance of the Europeans. I was also able to procure several of the Lebel rifle bullets that had entered the upper structure of the steamer. The censor struck out from my telegrams all allusion to the presence of the French at Fashoda, and I had to wait until I returned to Lower Egypt to transmit the news to London. I openly held that the Fashoda affair should be promptly and fully disclosed to the British public, and I acted upon that conviction.

The "Safieh" remained up the Nile, making fast to the bank about 100 miles north of Fashoda, to await the return of the "Tewfikieh" with orders from the Khalifa and reinforcements to destroy the French. No doubt there was an attempt made to carry out an Anglophobe idea of effecting a friendly alliance with the Mahdists so as to secure to France the right of access to the Nile and the Bahr el Ghazal. It was an effort to achieve the impossible, to negotiate a treaty with wild beasts. Had the dervishes, or even the "Safieh's" people who were drumming up recruits, been granted a fortnight to do it in the Marchand expedition would have been totally destroyed. The "Tewfikieh" arrived in a dust-storm and passed the Sirdar's gunboats unseen, and it was not until she got to Omdurman that the dervish reis and crew realised what had happened. With quick wit the skipper acted, for those who go upon waters are of a catholicity of creed and good-fellowship very different from ordinary landsmen. He ran his craft to the bank, landed with one of his crew and paid a visit to headquarters, where he surrendered himself and his craft. Both were at once accepted, and during the course of the same day the "Tewfikieh" again hoisted the Khedivial flag and was employed in towing and ferry work. The captain and crew stood by their ship working her, and though dressed as dervishes were on the flotilla muster-roll for wages and rations. The like befell the other dervish steamers that came into the Sirdar's hands. For two days there was a sale of the loot captured by the army. Arms, drums, flags, and nearly all the smaller articles found in the arsenal were auctioned. Some L4000 or more of ivory and other merchandise were put aside. On the first day big prices were paid by officers and men for trophies, but the following day spears and swords were sold for trifling sums. The money derived from the sale was set aside for distribution as prize money. All the battalions, batteries, and corps had, however, free gifts of guns, flags, or other trophies for souvenirs. On the afternoon of the 8th September the correspondents and their belongings proceeded on the horribly frowsy, rat-overrun, dervish steamer "Bordein" to Dakhala, the railhead. The steamer was packed upon and below deck with British soldiers, about 50 of whom were sick, whilst several were wounded. Stowed almost like cattle, sitting, squatting, lying anywhere, anyhow, without shade or shelter, we underwent two days of it on board. It was found necessary to tie up occasionally for wood (fuel), and at night the steamer was always moored to the bank. These occasions provided the needed opportunity to prepare and partake of meals, and find space to sleep upon the shore. But it was war-time, and extra roughing-it is always an accompaniment of the game in uncivilised countries. Within a week, thanks to the desert railway and the post-boats, we were back enjoying the delicious flesh-pots of Egypt, first on board Messrs Cook's magnificent Nile steamers, and thereafter in Shepheard's hotel, Cairo.

On the way down I saw something and heard more of the excellent base-hospital established at Abadia, of which Lieut.-Col. Clery, R.A.M.C., was in charge. Landing stages had been erected for receiving the sick and wounded, and wells were dug from which, owing to infiltration, clear water was drawn for use in the hospital. All water, however, used for food or drink was in addition filtered and boiled. The percentage of recovery by patients was eminently satisfactory. Major Battersby, R.A.M.C, had a Roentgen Ray apparatus which was employed in twenty-two cases to locate bullets and fractures. In connection with the treatment of the sick and wounded, it is to be regretted that earlier and greater use was not made of the National Aid Society's offer to provide steamers properly fitted for carrying invalids. A railway journey in Egypt or the Soudan is, at the best, a painful experience for even those who are well. From Assouan to Cairo every invalided soldier could and should have been transported by water, on just such a craft as the hospital, "Mayflower," which the Society promptly and admirably equipped the moment the authorities gave their consent. As early as June 1898 Lieut.-Col. Young, on behalf of the Red Cross Society, wrote intimating a desire to assist, entirely at their own expense, in the expedition. This application met with a refusal, and it was not until the 1st of August 1898 that the Foreign Office replied to a subsequent appeal that the Sirdar would gladly accept their proffer. Had the matter been settled in June, instead of August, there could have been three hospital ships plying, enough to transport every sick soldier by water. By the 6th of September the "Mayflower" was ready with a crew and a complement of nurses. The army provided their own medical staff, the Society running the steamer and supplying the cuisine, which was under the direction of a French "chef." The "Mayflower" was able to convey, in most comfortable quarters, with every possible attention to their needs, seventy-two sick and wounded soldiers. Pjamas, socks, shirts and other necessaries were given free to every patient. The steamer did good service, making at least three round trips to bring down patients.

The wounds received in battle had scarce been dressed before the Sirdar was seeking to give effect to his schemes for the well-being of the Soudanese. Means were taken for the speedy connecting by telegraph of Suakin and Berber, Suakin, Kassala, Gedarif, Khartoum. The wire from Dakhala to Nasri was brought on to Omdurman a few days after the victory. Arrangements were further made to bridge the Atbara and carry forward the Wady Halfa-Abu Hamed-Dakhala line along the east bank to a point upon the Blue Nile opposite Khartoum. That railway will be completed in 1899, and there will be through train service from Wady Halfa to the junction of the two Niles. With the suitable steamers already in hand, there should be, all the year round, water communication up the Blue Nile for hundreds of miles, and upon the White Nile, with a few porterages, to the Great Equatorial Lakes, and west through the Bahr el Ghazal country. So much was for commerce, for material benefaction, but there was besides recognition of what was due to higher needs. I knew the Sirdar had long entertained the idea of fitly commemorating General Gordon's glorious self-abnegation in striving to help the natives, single-handed, fighting unto death ignorance and fanaticism. A scheme that would provide for the education of the youth of the Soudan, conveying to them the stores of knowledge taught in the colleges of civilised countries, was what he aimed at. The desired institution should be founded in Khartoum, which was to become a centre of light and guidance for the new nation being born to rule Central Africa. As the Mussulman is nothing if not fanatical whenever religious questions are introduced, it was to be a foundation solely devoted to teaching exact knowledge without any "ism."

I had the opportunity afforded me of several conversations with the Sirdar upon the subject so dear to him, "a Gordon Memorial College in Khartoum." The substance of these interviews I cabled fully to the Daily Telegraph, which, with most other journals, warmly advocated the carrying out of the scheme. It was certain that Gordon and Khartoum would remain objects of interest to our race, and that public sentiment demanded the erection of some proper memorial of the sad past. Nothing better than the founding of a People's College could be thought of. Lamentable ignorance of the world and all therein was and yet is the direct curse of the land. The natives have had no opportunity of learning anything beyond the parrot-smattering of the Koran, the one book of Moslem schools. The rudimentary knowledge common to British schoolboys transcends all the learning of the wise in the Soudan. The people, Arabs and blacks, are docile and capable of readily learning everything taught in the ordinary scholastic curriculum at home. With a minimum annual income of L1500 a year, teachers and apparatus could, it was said, be provided, although in addition five or six thousand pounds sterling would be required for preliminary outlay. The land and part of the necessary buildings, the Sirdar intimated, would probably be presented as a gift by the Egyptian Government. It would be futile, as all knew, trying to succeed with a staff of native teachers. Tribal relations and other causes stood in the way, and unless the college was to be doomed to failure it would have to be launched and conducted by virile European professors. Much if not all of the food required for the staff and scholars could be purchased cheaply or might be raised in the college grounds by the pupils themselves. Technical training would be taught hand in hand with the ordinary courses. These were the outlines of the Sirdar's communications, who, by the way, at that date was already being known as Lord Kitchener of Khartoum. It having been noticed that certain dignitaries and others were, through the press, ruining the scheme by attempts to foist upon it theological and medical schools, a complete answer was found for their statements by a near relative of Gordon Pasha. In the course of conversation he referred to what I knew to be the facts, that the British and Egyptian army doctors wherever stationed in the Soudan, or from Assouan south, were wont to give medicines and professional services to the civil population free of charge. General Gordon, I was authorised to state, was no narrow-spirited Christian, for he always put the need of giving education before attempts at proselytising. It is not generally known amongst strait-laced sectarians or churchmen that Gordon Pasha, at his own expense, built a mosque for the devout Mohammedans whom he ruled, and that his name, as worthy to be remembered in Moslem annals, is inscribed upon the walls of the Mosque at Mecca. That General Gordon was a staunch Christian goes without saying, but he was no churl who could not esteem and respect the faith of his fellow-men. But the case is well summed up in Lord Kitchener's subsequent letter to the press.

The Sirdar wrote:—

"SIR,—I trust that it will not be thought that I am trespassing too much upon the goodwill of the British public, or that I am exceeding the duties of a soldier, if I call your attention to an issue of very grave importance arising immediately out of the recent campaign in the Soudan. That region now lies in the pathway of our Empire, and a numerous population has become practically dependent upon men of our race.

"A responsible task is henceforth laid upon us, and those who have conquered are called upon to civilise. In fact, the work interrupted since the death of Gordon must now be resumed.

"It is with this conviction that I venture to lay before you a proposal which, if it met with the approval and support of the British public and of the English-speaking race, would prove of inestimable benefit to the Soudan and to Africa. The area of the Soudan comprises a population of upwards of three million persons, of whom it may be said that they are wholly uneducated. The dangers arising from that fact are too obvious and have been too painfully felt during many years past for me to dwell upon them. In the course of time, no doubt, an education of some sort, and administered by some hands, will be set on foot. But if Khartoum could be made forthwith the centre of an education supported by British funds and organised from Britain, there would be secured to this country indisputably the first place in Africa as a civilising power, and an effect would be created which would be felt for good throughout the central regions of that continent. I accordingly propose that at Khartoum there should be founded and maintained with British money a college bearing the name of the Gordon Memorial College, to be a pledge that the memory of Gordon is still alive among us, and that his aspirations are at length to be realised.