[Footnote 384: Parl. Papers, Egypt, No. 6 (1884), p. 3.]

In themselves these instructions were not wholly clear. An officer who is allowed to use troops for the settlement or pacification of a vast tract of country can hardly be the agent of a policy of mere "abandonment." Neither Gordon nor Baring seems at that time to have felt the incongruity of the two sets of duties, but before long it flashed across Gordon's mind. At Abu Hammed, when nearing Khartum, he telegraphed to Baring: "I would most earnestly beg that evacuation but not abandonment be the programme to be followed." Or, as he phrased it, he wanted Egypt to recognise her "moral control and suzerainty" over the Sudan[385]. This, of course, was an extension of the programme to which he gave his assent at Cairo; it differed toto caelo from the policy of abandonment laid down at London.

[Footnote 385: Egypt, No. 12 (1884), p. 133.]

Even now it is impossible to see why Ministers did not at once simplify the situation by a clear statement of their orders to Gordon, not of course as Governor-General of the Sudan, but as a British officer charged by them with a definite duty. At a later date they sought to limit him to the restricted sphere sketched out at London; but then it was too late to bend to their will a nature which, firm at all times, was hard as adamant when the voice of conscience spoke within. Already it had spoken, and against "abandonment."

There were other confusing elements in the situation. Gordon believed that the "full discretionary power" granted to him by Sir E. Baring was a promise binding on the British Government; and, seeing that he was authorised to perform such other duties as Sir Evelyn Baring would communicate to him, he was right. But Ministers do not seem to have understood that this implied an immense widening of the original programme. Further, Sir Evelyn Baring used the terms "evacuation" and "abandonment" as if they were synonymous; while in Gordon's view they were very different. As we shall see, his nature, at once conscientious, vehement, and pertinacious, came to reject the idea of abandonment as cowardly and therefore impossible.

Lastly, we may note that Gordon was left free to announce the forthcoming evacuation of the Sudan, or not, as he judged best[386]. He decided to keep it secret. Had he kept it entirely so for the present, he would have done well; but he is said to have divulged it to one or two officials at Berber; if so, it was a very regrettable imprudence, which compromised the defence of that town. But surely no man was ever charged with duties so complex and contradictory. The qualities of Nestor, Ulysses, and Achilles combined in one mortal could scarcely have availed to untie or sever that knot.

[Footnote 386: Ibid. p. 27.]

The first sharp collision between Gordon and the Home Government resulted from his urgent request for the employment of Zebehr Pasha as the future ruler of the Sudan. A native of the Sudan, this man had risen to great wealth and power by his energy and ambition, and figured as a kind of king among the slave-raiders of the Upper Nile, until, for some offence against the Egyptian Government, he was interned at Cairo. At that city Gordon had a conference with Zebehr in the presence of Sir E. Baring, Nubar Pasha, and others. It was long and stormy, and gave the impression of undying hatred felt by the slaver for the slave-liberator. This alone seemed to justify the Gladstone Ministry in refusing Gordon's request[387]. Had Zebehr gone with Gordon, he would certainly have betrayed him—so thought Sir Evelyn Baring.

[Footnote 387: Ibid. pp. 38-41.]

Setting out from Cairo and travelling quickly up the Nile, Gordon reached Khartum on February 18, and received an enthusiastic welcome from the discouraged populace. At once he publicly burned all instruments of torture and records of old debts; so that his popularity overshadowed that of the Mahdi. Again he urged the despatch of Zebehr as his "successor," after the withdrawal of troops and civilians from the Sudan. But, as Sir Evelyn Baring said in forwarding Gordon's request to Downing Street, it would be most dangerous to place them together at Khartum. It should further be noted that Gordon's telegrams showed his belief that the Mahdi's power was overrated, and that his advance in person on Khartum was most unlikely[388]. It is not surprising, then, that Lord Granville telegraphed to Sir E. Baring on February 22 that the public opinion of England "would not tolerate the appointment of Zebehr Pasha[389]." Already it had been offended by Gordon's proclamation at Khartum that the Government would not interfere with the buying and selling of slaves, though, as Sir Evelyn Baring pointed out, the re-establishment of slavery resulted quite naturally from the policy of evacuation; and he now strongly urged that Gordon should have "full liberty of action to complete the execution of his general plans[390]."

[Footnote 388: Egypt, No. 12 (1884), pp. 74, 82, 88.]

[Footnote 389: Ibid. p. 95.]

[Footnote 390: Ibid. p. 94.]

Here it is desirable to remember that the Mahdist movement was then confined almost entirely to three chief districts—Kordofan, parts of the lands adjoining the Blue Nile, and the tribes dwelling west and south-west of Suakim. For the present these last were the most dangerous. Already they had overpowered and slaughtered two Egyptian forces; and on February 22 news reached Cairo of the fall of Tokar before the valiant swordsmen of Osman Digna. But this was far away from the Nile and did not endanger Gordon. British troops were landed at Suakim for the protection of that port, but this step implied no change of policy respecting the Sudan. The slight impression which two brilliant but costly victories, those of El Teb and Tamai, made on the warlike tribes at the back of Suakim certainly showed the need of caution in pushing a force into the Sudan when the fierce heats of summer were coming on[391].

[Footnote 391: For details of these battles, see Sir F. Wingate's Mahdism, chap, iii., and Life of Sir Gerald Graham (1901).]

The first hint of any change of policy was made by Gordon in his despatch of Feb. 26, to Sir E. Baring. After stating his regret at the refusal of the British Government to allow the despatch of Zebehr as his successor, he used these remarkable words:—

You must remember that when evacuation is carried out, Mahdi will come down here, and, by agents, will not let Egypt be quiet. Of course my duty is evacuation, and the best I can for establishing a quiet government. The first I hope to accomplish. The second is a more difficult task, and concerns Egypt more than me. If Egypt is to be quiet, Mahdi must be smashed up. Mahdi is most unpopular, and with care and time could be smashed. Remember that once Khartum belongs to Mahdi, the task will be far more difficult; yet you will, for safety of Egypt, execute it. If you decide on smashing Mahdi, then send up another L100,000 and send up 200 Indian troops to Wady Haifa, and send officer up to Dongola under pretence to look out quarters for troops. Leave Suakim and Massowah alone. I repeat that evacuation is possible, but you will feel effect in Egypt, and will be forced to enter into a far more serious affair in order to guard Egypt. At present, it would be comparatively easy to destroy Mahdi[392].

[Footnote 392: Egypt, No. 12 (1884), p. 115.]

This statement arouses different opinions according to the point of view from which we regard it. As a declaration of general policy it is no less sound than prophetic; as a despatch from the Governor-General of the Sudan to the Egyptian Government, it claimed serious attention; as a recommendation sent by a British officer to the Home Government, it was altogether beyond his powers. Gordon was sent out for a distinct aim; he now proposed to subordinate that aim to another far vaster aim which lay beyond his province. Nevertheless, Sir E. Baring on February 28, and on March 4, urged the Gladstone Ministry even now to accede to Gordon's request for Zebehr Pasha as his successor, on the ground that some Government must be left in the Sudan, and Zebehr was deemed at Cairo to be the only possible governor. Again the Home Government refused, and thereby laid themselves under the moral obligation of suggesting an alternate course. The only course suggested was to allow the despatch of a British force up the Nile, if occasion seemed to demand it[393].

[Footnote 393: Egypt, No. 12 (1884) p. 119.]

In this connection it is well to remember that the question of Egypt and the Sudan was only one of many that distracted the attention of Ministers. The events outside Suakim alone might give them pause before they plunged into the Sudan; for that was the time when Russia was moving on towards Afghanistan; and the agreement between the three Emperors imposed the need of caution on a State as isolated and unpopular as England then was. In view of the designs of the German colonial party (see Chapter XVII.) and the pressure of the Irish problem, the Gladstone Cabinet was surely justified in refusing to undertake any new responsibilities, except on the most urgent need. Vital interests were at stake in too many places to warrant a policy of Quixotic adventure up the Nile.

Nevertheless, it is regrettable that Ministers took up on the Sudan problem a position that was logically sound but futile in the sphere of action. Gordon's mission, according to Earl Granville, was a peaceful one, and he inquired anxiously what progress had been made in the withdrawal of the Egyptian garrisons and civilians. This question he put, even in the teeth of Gordon's positive statement in a telegram of March 8:—

If you do not send Zebehr, you have no chance of getting the garrisons away; . . . Zebehr here would be far more powerful than the Mahdi, and he would make short work of the Mahdi[394].

[Footnote 394: Ibid. p. 145.]

A week earlier Gordon had closed a telegram with the despairing words:—

I will do my best to carry out my instructions, but I feel conviction I shall be caught in Khartum[395].

[Footnote 395: Ibid. p. 152.]

It is not surprising that Ministers were perplexed by Gordon's despatches, or that Baring telegraphed to Khartum that he found it very difficult to understand what the General wanted. All who now peruse his despatches must have the same feeling, mixed with one of regret that he ever weakened his case by the proposal to "smash the Mahdi." Thenceforth the British Government obviously felt some distrust of their envoy; and in this disturbing factor, and the duality of Gordon's duties, we may discern one cause at least of the final disaster.

On March 11, the British Government refused either to allow the appointment of Zebehr, or to send British or Indian troops from Suakim to Berber. Without wishing to force Gordon's hand prematurely, Earl Granville urged the need of evacuation at as early a date as might be practicable. On March 16, after hearing ominous news as to the spread of the Mahdi's power near to Khartum and Berber, he advised the evacuation of the former city at the earliest possible date[396]. We may here note that the rebels began to close round it on March 18.

[Footnote 396: Ibid. pp. 158, 162, 166.]

Earl Granville's advice directly conflicted with Gordon's sense of honour. As he stated, on or about March 20, the fidelity of the people of Khartum, while treachery was rife all around, bound him not to leave them until he could do so "under a Government which would give them some hope of peace." Here again his duty as Governor of the Sudan, or his extreme conscientiousness as a man, held him to his post despite the express recommendations of the British Government. His decision is ever to be regretted; but it redounds to his honour as a Christian and a soldier. At bottom, the misunderstanding between him and the Cabinet rested on a divergent view of duty. Gordon summed up his scruples in his telegram to Baring:—

You must see that you could not recall me, nor could I possibly obey, until the Cairo employes get out from all the places. I have named men to different places, thus involving them with the Mahdi. How could I look the world in the face if I abandoned them and fled? As a gentleman, could you advise this course?

Earl Granville summed up his statement of the case in the words:—

The Mission of General Gordon, as originally designed and decided upon, was of a pacific nature and in no way involved any movement of British forces. . . . He was, in addition, authorised and instructed to perform such other duties as the Egyptian Government might desire to entrust to him and as might be communicated by you to him. . . . Her Majesty's Government, bearing in mind the exigencies of the occasion, concurred in these instructions [those of the Egyptian Government], which virtually altered General Gordon's Mission from one of advice to that of executing, or at least directing, the evacuation not only of Khartum but of the whole Sudan, and they were willing that General Gordon should receive the very extended powers conferred upon him by the Khedive to enable him to effect his difficult task. But they have throughout joined in your anxiety that he should not expose himself to unnecessary personal risk, or place himself in a position from which retreat would be difficult[397].

[Footnote 397: Egypt, No. 13 (1884), pp. 5, 6. Earl Granville made the same statement in his despatch of April 23. See, too, The Life of Lord Granville.]

He then states that it is clear that Khartum can hold out for at least six months, if it is attacked, and, seeing that the British occupation of Egypt was only "for a special and temporary purpose," any expedition into the Sudan would be highly undesirable on general as well as diplomatic grounds.

Both of these views of duty are intelligible as well as creditable to those who held them. But the former view is that of a high-souled officer; the latter, that of a responsible and much-tried Minister and diplomatist. They were wholly divergent, and divergence there spelt disaster.

On hearing of the siege of Khartum, General Stephenson, then commanding the British forces in Egypt, advised the immediate despatch of a brigade to Dongola—a step which would probably have produced the best results; but that advice was overruled at London for the reasons stated above. Ministers seem to have feared that Gordon might use the force for offensive purposes. An Egyptian battalion was sent up the Nile to Korosko in the middle of May; but the "moral effect" hoped for from that daring step vanished in face of a serious reverse. On May 19, the important city of Berber was taken by the Mahdists[398].

[Footnote 398: Parl. Papers, Egypt, No. 25 (1884), pp. 129-131.]

Difficult as the removal of about 10,000 to 15,000[399] Egyptians from Khartum had always been—and there were fifteen other garrisons to be rescued—it was now next to impossible, unless some blow were dealt at the rebels in that neighbourhood. The only effective blow would be that dealt by British or Indian troops, and this the Government refused, though Gordon again and again pointed out that a small well-equipped force would do far more than a large force. "A heavy, lumbering column, however strong, is nowhere in this land (so he wrote in his Journals on September 24). . . . It is the country of the irregular, not of the regular." A month after the capture of Berber a small British force left Siut, on the Nile, for Assuan; but this move, which would have sent a thrill through the Sudan in March, had little effect at midsummer. Even so, a prompt advance on Dongola and thence on Berber would probably have saved the situation at the eleventh hour.

[Footnote 399: This is the number as estimated by Gordon in his Journals (Sept. 10, 1884), p. 6.]

But first the battle of the routes had to be fought out by the military authorities. As early as April 25, the Government ordered General Stephenson to report on the best means of relieving Gordon; after due consideration of this difficult problem he advised the despatch of 10,000 men to Berber from Suakim in the month of September. Preparations were actually begun at Suakim; but in July experts began to favour the Nile route. In that month Lord Wolseley urged the immediate despatch of a force up that river, and he promised that it should be at Dongola by the middle of October. Even so, official hesitations hampered the enterprise, and it was not until July 29 that the decision seems to have been definitely formed in favour of the Nile route. Even on August 8, Lord Hartington, then War Minister, stated that help would be sent to Gordon, if it proved to be necessary[400]. On August 26, Lord Wolseley was appointed to the command of the relief expedition gathering on the Nile, but not until October 5 did he reach Wady Haifa, below the Second Cataract.

[Footnote 400: Morley, Life of Gladstone, vol. iii. p. 164.]

Meanwhile the web of fate was closing in on Khartum. In vain did Gordon seek to keep communications open. All that he could do was to hold stoutly to that last bulwark of civilisation. There were still some grounds for hope. The Mahdi remained in Kordofan, want of food preventing his march northwards in force. Against his half-armed fanatics the city opposed a strong barrier. "Crows' feet" scattered on the ground ended their mad rushes, and mines blew them into the air by hundreds. Khartum seemed to defy those sons of the desert. The fire of the steamers drove them from the banks and pulverised their forts[401]. The arsenal could turn out 50,000 Remington cartridges a week. There was every reason, then, for holding the city; for, as Gordon jotted down in his Journal on September 17, if the Mahdi took Khartum, it would need a great force to stay his propaganda. Here and there in those pathetic records of a life and death struggle we catch a glimpse of Gordon's hope of saving Khartum for civilisation. More than once he noted the ease of holding the Sudan from the Nile as base. With forts at the cataracts and armed steamers patrolling the clear reaches of the river, the defence of the Sudan, he believed, was by no means impossible[402].

[Footnote 401: For details, see Letters from Khartum, by Frank Power.]

[Footnote 402: Journal, p. 35, etc.]

On September 10 he succeeded in sending away down stream by steamer Colonel Stewart and Messrs. Power and Herbin; but unfortunately they were wrecked and murdered by Arabs near Korti. The advice and help of that gallant officer would have been of priceless service to the relieving force. On September 10, when the Journals begin, Gordon was still hopeful of success, though food was scarce.



At this time the rescue expedition was mustering at Wady Haifa, a point which the narrowing gorge of the Nile marks out as one of the natural defences of its lower valley. There the British and Egyptian Governments were collecting a force that soon amounted to 2570 British troops and some Egyptians, who were to be used solely for transport and portage duties. A striking tribute to the solidarity of the Empire was the presence of 350 Canadians, mostly French, whose skill in working boats up rapids won admiration on all sides. The difficulties of the Nile route were soon found to be far greater than had been imagined. Indeed many persons still believe that the Suakim-Berber route would have been far preferable. The Nile was unfortunately lower than usual, and many rapids, up which small steamers had been hauled when the waters ran deep and full, were impassable even for the whale-boats on which the expedition depended for its progress as far as Korti. Many a time all the boats had to be hauled up the banks and carried by Canadians or Egyptians to the next clear reaches. The letters written by Gordon in 1877 in a more favourable season were now found to be misleading, and in part led to the miscalculation of time which was to prove so disastrous.

Another untoward fact was the refusal of the authorities to push on the construction of the railway above Sarras. It had been completed from Wady Haifa up to that point, and much work had been done on it for about fifteen miles further. But, either from lack of the necessary funds, or because the line could not be completed in time, the construction was stopped by Lord Wolseley's orders early in October. Consequently much time was lost in dragging the boats and their stores up or around the difficult rapids above Semneh[403].

[Footnote 403: See Gordon's letters of the year 1877, quoted in the Appendix of A. Macdonald's Too Late for Gordon and Khartum (1887); also chap. vi. of that book.]

Meanwhile a large quantity of stores had been collected at Dongola and Debbeh; numbers of boats were also there, so that a swift advance of a vanguard thence by the calmer reaches farther up the Nile seemed to offer many chances of success. It was in accord with Gordon's advice to act swiftly with small columns; but, for some reason, the plan was not acted on, though Colonel Kitchener, who had collected those stores, recommended it. Another argument for speedy action was the arrival on November 14, of a letter from Gordon, dated ten days before, in which he stated that he could hold out for forty days, but would find it hard to do so any longer.

The advance of the main body to Dongola was very slow, despite the heroic toil of all concerned. We now know that up to the middle of September the Gladstone Ministry cherished the belief that the force need not advance beyond Dongola. Their optimism was once again at fault. The Mahdists were pressing on the siege of Khartum, and had overpowered and slaughtered faithful tribes farther down the river. Such was the news sent by Gordon and received by Lord Wolseley on December 31 at Korti. The "secret and confidential" part of Gordon's message was to the effect that food was running short, and the rescuers must come quickly; they should come by Metammeh or Berber, and inform Gordon by the messenger when they had taken Berber.

The last entries in Gordon's Journals or in that part which has survived, contain the following statements:—

December 13. ". . . All that is absolutely necessary is for fifty of the expeditionary force to get on board a steamer and come up to Halfeyeh, and thus let their presence be felt; this is not asking much, but it must happen at once; or it will (as usual) be too late."

December 14. [After stating that he would send down a steamer with the "Journal" towards the expeditionary force]. . . . "Now mark this, if the expeditionary force, and I ask for no more than two hundred men, does not come in ten days the town may fall; and I have done my best for the honour of our country. Good bye."

Owing to lack of transport and other difficulties, the vanguard of the relieving force could not begin its march from the new Nile base, near Korti, until December 30. Thence the gallant Sir Herbert Stewart led a picked column of men with 1800 camels across the desert towards Metammeh. Lord Wolseley remained behind to guard the new base of operations. At Abu Klea wells, when nearing the Nile, the column was assailed by a great mass of Arabs. They advanced in five columns, each having a wedge-shaped head designed to pierce the British square. With a low murmuring cry or chant they rushed on in admirable order, disregarding the heavy losses caused by the steady fire of three faces of the square. Their leaders soon saw the weak place in the defence, namely, at one of the rear corners, where belated skirmishers were still running in for shelter, where also one of the guns jammed at the critical moment. One of their Emirs, calmly reciting his prayers, rode in through the gap thus formed, and for ten minutes bayonet and spear plied their deadly thrusts at close quarters. Thanks to the firmness of the British infantry, every Arab that forced his way in perished; but in this melee there perished a stalwart soldier whom England could ill spare, Colonel Burnaby, hero of the ride to Khiva. Lord Charles Beresford, of the Naval Brigade, had a narrow escape while striving to set right the defective cannon. In all we lost 65 killed and 60 wounded, a proportion which tells its own tale as to the fighting[404].

[Footnote 404: Sir C.W. Wilson, From Korti to Khartum, pp. 28-35; also see Hon. R. Talbot's article on "Abu Klea," in the Nineteenth Century for January 1886.]

Two days later, while the force was beating off an attack of the Arabs near Metammeh, General Stewart received a wound which proved to be mortal. The command now devolved on Sir Charles Wilson of the Royal Engineers. After repelling the attacks of other Mahdists and making good his position on the Nile, the new commander came into touch with Gordon's steamers, which arrived there on the 21st, with 190 Sudanese. Again, however, the advance of other Arabs from Omdurman caused a delay until a fortified camp or zariba could be formed. Wilson now had but 1322 unwounded men; and he saw that the Mahdists were in far greater force than Lord Wolseley or General Gordon had expected. Not until January 24 could the commander steam away southwards with 20 men of the Sussex regiment and the 190 Sudanese soldiers on the two largest of Gordon's boats—his "penny steamers" as he whimsically termed them.

The sequel is well known. After overcoming many difficulties caused by rocks and sandbanks, after running the gauntlet of the Mahdist fire, this forlorn hope neared Khartum on the 28th, only to find that the place had fallen. There was nothing for it but to put about and escape while it was possible. Sir Charles Wilson has described the scene: "The masses of the enemy with their fluttering banners near Khartum, the long rows of riflemen in the shelter-trenches at Omdurman, the numerous groups of men on Tuti [Island], the bursting of shells, and the water torn up by hundreds of bullets, and occasionally heavier shot, made an impression never to be forgotten. Looking out over the stormy scene, it seemed almost impossible that we should escape[405]."

[Footnote 405: Sir C.W. Wilson, op. cit. pp. 176-177.]

Weighed down by grief at the sad failure of all their strivings, the little band yet succeeded in escaping to Metammeh. They afterwards found out that they were two days too late. The final cause of the fall of Khartum is not fully known. The notion first current, that it was due to treachery, has been discredited. Certainly the defenders were weakened by privation and cowed by the Mahdist successes. The final attack was also given at a weak place in the long line of defence; but whether the defenders all did their best, or were anxious to make terms with the Mahdi, will probably never be known. The conduct of the assailants in at once firing on the relieving force forbids the notion that they all along intended to get into Khartum by treachery just before the approach of the steamers. Had that been their aim, they would surely have added one crowning touch of guile, that of remaining quiet until Wilson and his men landed at Khartum. The capture of the town would therefore seem to be due to force, not to treachery.

All these speculations are dwarfed by the overwhelming fact that Gordon perished. Various versions have been given of the manner of his death. One that rests on good authority is that he died fighting. Another account, which seems more consistent with his character, is that, on hearing of the enemy's rush into the town, he calmly remarked: "It is all finished; to-day Gordon will be killed." In a short time a chief of the Baggara Arabs with a few others burst in and ordered him to come to the Mahdi. Gordon refused. Thrice the Sheikh repeated the command. Thrice Gordon calmly repeated his refusal. The sheikh then drew his sword and slashed at his shoulder. Gordon still looked him steadily in the face. Thereupon the miscreant struck at his neck, cut off his head, and carried it to the Mahdi[406].

[Footnote 406: A third account given by Bordeini Bey, a merchant of Khartum, differs in many details. It is printed by Sir F.R. Wingate in his Mahdism, p. 171.]

Whatever may be the truth as to details, it is certain that no man ever looked death in the face so long and so serenely as Gordon. For him life was but duty—duty to God and duty to man. We may fitly apply to him the noble lines which Tennyson offered to the memory of another steadfast soul—

He, that ever following her commands, On with toil of heart and knees and hands, Thro' the long gorge to the far light has won His path upward, and prevail'd, Shall find the toppling crags of Duty scaled Are close upon the shining table-lands To which our God Himself is moon and sun.

NOTE TO THE SECOND EDITION

Shortly before the publication of this work, Lord Edmund Fitzmaurice published his Life of Earl Granville, some of the details of which tend somewhat to modify the account of the relations subsisting between the Earl and General Gordon. See too the issue of the Times of December 10, 1905 (Weekly Edition), for a correction of some of the statements, made in the Life of Earl Granville, by Lord Cromer (Sir Evelyn Baring).]



CHAPTER XVII

THE CONQUEST OF THE SUDAN

"The Sudan, if once proper communication was established, would not be difficult to govern. The only mode of improving the access to the Sudan, seeing the impoverished state of Egyptian finances, and the mode to do so without an outlay of more than L10,000, is by the Nile."—Gordon's Journals (Sept. 19, 1884).

It may seem that an account of the fall of Khartum is out of place in a volume which deals only with formative events. But this is not so. The example of Gordon's heroism was of itself a great incentive to action for the cause of settled government in that land. For that cause he had given his life, and few Britons were altogether deaf to the mute appeal of that lonely struggle. Then again, the immense increase to the Mahdi's power resulting from the capture of the arsenal of Khartum constituted (as Gordon had prophesied) a serious danger to Egypt. The continued presence of British troops at Wady Haifa, and that alone, saved the valley of the Lower Nile from a desolating flood of savagery. This was a fact recognised by every one at Cairo, even by the ultra-Gallic party. Egypt alone has rarely been able to hold at bay any great downward movement of the tribes of Ethiopia and Nubia; and the danger was never so great as in and after 1885. The Mahdi's proclamations to the faithful now swelled with inconceivable pride. To a wavering sheikh he sent the warning: "If you live long enough you will see the troops of the Mahdi spreading over Europe, Rome, and Constantinople, after which there will be nothing left for you but hell and damnation." The mistiness of the geography was hidden by the vigour of the theology, and all the sceptics of Nubia hastened to accept the new prophet.

But his time of tyranny soon drew to a close. A woman of Khartum, who had been outraged by him or his followers, determined to wreak her vengeance. On June 14, 1885, she succeeded in giving him slow poison, which led him to his death amidst long-drawn agonies eight days later. This ought to have been the death of Mahdism as well, but superstitions die hard in that land of fanatics. The Mahdi's factotum, an able intriguer named Abdullah Taashi, had previously gained from his master a written declaration that he was to be Khalifa after him; he now produced this document, and fortified its influence by describing in great detail a vision in which the ghost of the Mahdi handed him a sacred hair of inestimable worth, and an oblong-shaped light which had come direct from the hands of the true Prophet, who had received it from the hands of the angel Gabriel, to whom it had been entrusted by the Almighty.

This silly story was eagerly believed by the many, the questioning few also finding it well to still their doubts in presence of death or torture. Piety and politics quickly worked hand in hand to found the impostor's authority. A mosque began to rise over the tomb of the Mahdi in his chosen capital, Omdurman; and his successor gained the support and the offerings of the thousands of pilgrims who came to visit that wonder-working shrine. Such was the basis of the new rule, which spread over the valley of the Upper and Middle Nile, and carried terror nearly to the borders of Egypt[407].

[Footnote 407: Wingate, Mahdism, pp. 228-233.]

There law and order slowly took root under the shadow of the British administration, but Egypt ceased to control the lands south of Wady Halfa. Mr. Gladstone announced that decision in the House of Commons on May 11, 1885; and those who discover traces of the perfidy of Albion even in the vacillations of her policy, maintain that that declaration was made with a view to an eventual annexation of the Sudan by England. Their contention would be still more forcible if they would prove that the Gladstone Ministry deliberately sacrificed Gordon at Khartum in order to increase the Mahdi's power and leave Egypt open to his blows, thereby gaining one more excuse for delaying the long-promised evacuation of the Nile delta by the redcoats. This was the outcome of events; and those who argue backwards should have the courage of their convictions and throw all the facts of the case into their syllogisms.

All who have any knowledge of the trend of British statesmanship in the eighties know perfectly well that the occupation of Egypt was looked on as a serious incubus. The Salisbury Cabinet sought to give effect to the promises of evacuation, and with that aim in view sent Sir Henry Drummond Wolff to Constantinople in the year 1887 for the settlement of details. The year 1890 was ultimately fixed, provided that no danger should accrue to Egypt from such action, and that Great Britain should "retain a treaty-right of intervention if at any time either the internal peace or external security [of Egypt] should be seriously threatened." To this last stipulation the Sultan seemed prepared to agree. Austria, Germany, and Italy notified their complete agreement with it; but France and Russia refused to accept the British offer with this proviso added, and even influenced the Sultan so that he too finally opposed it. Their unfriendly action can only be attributed to a desire of humiliating Great Britain, and of depriving her of any effective influence in the land which, at such loss of blood and treasure to herself, she had saved from anarchy. Their opposition wrecked the proposal, and the whole position therefore remained unchanged. British officials continued to administer Egypt in spite of opposition from the French in all possible details connected with the vital question of finance[408].

[Footnote 408: England in Egypt, by Sir Alfred Milner, pp. 145-153.]

Other incidents that occurred during the years intervening between the fall of Gordon and the despatch of Sir Herbert Kitchener's expedition need not detain us here[409]. The causes which led to this new departure will be more fitly considered when we come to notice the Fashoda incident; but we may here remark that they probably arose out of the French and Belgian schemes for the partition of Central Africa. A desire to rescue the Sudan from a cruel and degrading tyranny and to offer a tardy reparation to the memory of Gordon doubtless had some weight with Ministers, as it undoubtedly had with the public. Indeed, it is doubtful whether the vox populi would have allowed the expedition but for these more sentimental considerations. But, in the view of the present writer, the Sudan expedition presents the best instance of foresight, resolve, and able execution that is to be found in the recent annals of Britain.

[Footnote 409: For the Sudan in this period see Wingate's Mahdism; Slatin's Fire and Sword in the Sudan; C. Neufeld's A Prisoner of the Khalifa.]

With the hour had come the man. During the dreary years of the "mark time" policy Colonel Kitchener had gained renown as a determined fighter and able organiser. For some time he acted as governor of Suakim, and showed his powers of command by gaining over some of the neighbouring tribes and planning an attack on Osman Digna which came very near to success. Under him and many other British officers the Egyptians and Sudanese gradually learnt confidence, and broke the spell of invincibility that so long had rested with the Dervish hordes. On all sides the power of the Khalifa was manifestly waning. The powerful Hadendowa tribe, near Suakim, which had given so much trouble in 1883-84, became neutral. On the Nile also the Dervishes lost ground. The Anglo-Egyptian troops wrested from them the post of Sarras, some thirty miles south of Wady Halfa; and the efforts of the fanatics to capture the wells along desert routes far to the east of the river were bloodily repulsed. As long as Sarras, Wady Halfa, and those wells were firmly held, Egypt was safe.

At Gedaref, not very far from Omdurman, the Khalifa sustained a severe check from the Italians (December 1893), who thereupon occupied the town of Kassala. It was not to be for any length of time. In all their enterprises against the warlike Abyssinians they completely failed; and, after sustaining the disastrous defeat of Adowa (March 1, 1896), the whole nation despaired of reaping any benefit from the Hinterland of their colony around Massowah. The new Cabinet at Rome resolved to withdraw from the districts around Kassala. On this news being communicated to the British Ministers, they sent a request to Rome that the evacuation of Kassala might be delayed until Anglo-Egyptian troops could be despatched to occupy that important station. In this way the intended withdrawal of the Italians served to strengthen the resolve of the British Government to help the Khedive in effecting the recovery of the Sudan[410].

[Footnote 410: See articles by Dr. E.J. Dillon and by Jules Simon in the Contemporary Review for April and May 1896. Kassala was handed over to an Egyptian force under Colonel Parsons in December 1897. The Egyptian Sudan, by H.S.L. Alford and W.D. Sword (1898).]

Preparations for the advance southwards went forward slowly and methodically through the summer and autumn of 1896. For the present the operations were limited to the recapture of Dongola. Sir Herbert Kitchener, then the Sirdar of the Egyptian army, was placed in command. Under him were men who had proved their worth in years of desultory fighting against the Khalifa—Broadwood, Hunter, Lewis, Macdonald, Maxwell, and many others. The training had been so long and severe as to weed out all weaklings; and the Sirdar himself was the very incarnation of that stern but salutary law of Nature which ordains the survival of the fittest. Scores of officers who failed to come up to his requirements were quietly removed; and the result was seen in a finely seasoned body of men, apt at all tasks, from staff duties to railway control. A comparison of the Egyptian army that fought at Omdurman with that which thirteen years before ran away screaming from a tenth of its number of Dervishes affords the most impressive lesson of modern times of the triumph of mind over matter, of western fortitude over the weaker side of eastern fatalism.

Such a building up of character as this implies could not take place in a month or two, for the mind of Egyptians and Sudanese was at first an utter blank as to the need of prompt obedience and still prompter action. An amusing case of their incredible slackness has been recorded. On the first parade of a new camel transport corps before Lord Kitchener, the leading driver stopped his animal, and therefore all that followed, immediately in front of the Sirdar, in order to light a cigarette. It is needless to say, the cigarette was not lighted, but the would-be smoker had his first lesson as to the superiority of the claims of collectivism over the whims of the individual[411].

[Footnote 411: Sudan Campaign, 1896-97, by "An Officer," p. 20.]

As will be seen by reference to the map on page 477, the decision to limit the campaign to Dongola involved the choice of the Nile route. If the blow had been aimed straight at Khartum, the Suakim-Berber route, or even that by way of Kassala, would have had many advantages. Above all, the river route held out the prospect of effective help from gunboats in the final attacks on Berber, Omdurman, and Khartum. Seeing, however, that the greater part of the river's course between Sarras and Dongola was broken up by rapids, the railway and the camel had at first to perform nearly the whole of the transport duties for which the Nile was there unsuited. The work of repairing the railway from Wady Haifa to Sarras, and thenceforth of constructing it through rocky wastes, amidst constant risk of Dervish raids, called into play every faculty of ingenuity, patience, and hardihood. But little by little the line crept on; the locomotives carried the piles of food, stores, and ammunition further and further south, until on June 6, 1897, the first blow was dealt by the surprise and destruction of the Dervish force at Ferket.

There a halt was called; for news came in that an unprecedented rain-storm further north had washed away the railway embankments from some of the gulleys. To make good the damage would take thirty days, it was said. The Sirdar declared that the line must be ready in twelve days; he went back to push on the work; in twelve days the line was ready. As an example of the varied difficulties that were met and overcome, we may mention one. The work of putting together a steamer, which had been brought up in sections, was stopped because an all-important nut had been lost in transit. At once the Sirdar ordered horsemen to patrol the railway line—and the nut was found. At last the vessel was ready; but on her trial trip she burst a cylinder and had to be left behind[412]. Three small steamers and four gunboats were, however, available for service in the middle of September, when the expedition moved on.

[Footnote 412: Ibid, p. 54.]

By this time the effective force numbered about 12,000 men. The Dervishes had little heart for fighting to the north of Dongola; and even at that town the Dervishes made but a poor stand, cowed as they were by the shells of the steamers and perplexed by the enveloping moves which the Sirdar ordered; 700 were taken in Dongola, and the best 300 of these were incorporated in the Sirdar's Sudanese regiments (Sept. 23, 1896).

Thus ended the first part of the expedition. Events had justified Gordon's statement that a small well-equipped expedition could speedily overthrow the Mahdi—that is, in the days of his comparative weakness before the capture of Khartum. The ease with which Dongola had been taken and the comparative cheapness of the expedition predisposed the Egyptian Government and the English public to view its extension southwards with less of disfavour.

Again the new stride forward had to be prepared for by careful preparations at the base. The question of route also caused delay. It proved to be desirable to begin a new railway from Wady Haifa across the desert to Abu Hamed at the northern tip of the deep bend which the Nile makes below Berber. To drive a line into a desert in order to attack an enemy holding a good position beyond seemed a piece of fool-hardiness. Nevertheless it was done, and at the average rate of about 1 1/4 miles a day. In due course General Hunter pushed on and captured Abu Hamed, the inhabitants of which showed little fight, being thoroughly weary of Dervish tyranny (August 6, 1897).

The arrival of gunboats after a long struggle with the rapids below Abu Hamed gave Hunter's little force a much-needed support; and before he could advance further, news reached him that the Dervishes had abandoned Berber. This step caused general surprise, and it has never been fully explained. Some have averred that a panic seized the wives of the Dervish garrison at Berber, and that when they rushed out of the town southwards their husbands followed them[413]. Certain it is that family feelings, which the Dervishes so readily outraged in others, played a leading part in many of their movements. Whatever the cause may have been, the abandonment of Berber greatly facilitated the work of Sir Herbert Kitchener. A strong force soon mustered at that town, and the route to the Red Sea was reopened by a friendly arrangement with the local sheikhs.

[Footnote 413: The Downfall of the Dervishes, by E.N. Bennett, M.A., p. 23.]

The next important barrier to the advance was the river Atbara. Here the Dervishes had a force some 18,000 strong; but before long the Sirdar received timely reinforcement of a British brigade, consisting of the Cameron and Seaforth Highlanders and the Lincolnshire and Warwickshire regiments, under General Gatacre. Various considerations led the Sirdar to wait until he could strike a telling blow. What was most to be dreaded was the adoption of Parthian tactics by the enemy. Fortunately they had constructed a zariba (a camp surrounded by thorn-bushes) on the north bank of the Atbara at a point twenty miles above its confluence with the Nile. At last, on April 7, 1898, after trying to tempt the enemy to a battle in the open, the Sirdar moved forward his 14,000 men in the hope of rushing the position soon after dawn of the following day, Good Friday.

Before the first streaks of sunrise tinged the east, the assailants moved forward to a ridge overlooking the Dervish position; but very few heads were seen above the thorny rampart in the hollow opposite. It was judged to be too risky at once to charge a superior force that clung to so strong a shelter; and for an hour and a half the British and Egyptian guns plied the zariba in the hope of bringing the fanatics out to fight. Still they kept quiet; and their fortitude during this time of carnage bore witness to their bravery and discipline[414].

[Footnote 414: The Egyptian Sudan: its Loss and Recovery, by H.S.L. Alford and W.D. Sword, ch. iv.]

At 7.45 the Sirdar ordered the advance. The British brigade held the left wing, the Camerons leading in line formation, while behind them in columns were ranged the Warwicks, Seaforths, and Lincolns, to add weight to the onset. Macdonald's and Maxwell's Egyptian and Sudanese Brigades, drawn up in lines, formed the centre and right. Squadrons of Egyptian horse and a battery of Maxims confronted the Dervish horsemen ranged along; the front of a dense scrub to the left of the zariba. As the converging lines advanced, they were met by a terrific discharge; fortunately it was aimed too high, or the loss would have been fearful. Then the Highlanders and Sudanese rushed in, tore apart the thorn bushes and began a fierce fight at close quarters. From their shelter trenches, pits, and huts the Dervishes poured in spasmodic volleys, or rushed at their assailants with spear or bayonet. Even at this the fanatics of the desert were no match for the seasoned troops of the Sirdar; and soon the beaten remnant streamed out through the scrub or over the dry bed of the Atbara. About 2500 were killed, and 2000, including Mahmud, the commander, were taken prisoners. Those who attempted to reach the fertile country round Kassala were there hunted down or captured by the Egyptian garrison that lately had arrived there.

As on previous occasions, the Sirdar now waited some time until the railway could be brought up to the points lately conquered. More gunboats were also constructed for the final stage of the expedition. The dash at Omdurman and Khartum promised to tax to the uttermost the strength of the army; but another brigade of British troops, commanded by Colonel Lyttelton, soon joined the expedition, bringing its effective strength up to 23,000 men. General Gatacre received the command of the British division. Ten gunboats, five transport steamers, and eight barges promised to secure complete command of the river banks and to provide means for transporting the army and all needful stores to the western bank of the Nile whenever the Sirdar judged it to be advisable. The midsummer rains in the equatorial districts now made their influence felt, and in the middle of August the Nile covered the sandbanks and rocks that made navigation dangerous at the time of "low Nile." In the last week of that month all was ready for the long and carefully prepared advance. The infantry travelled in steamers or barges as far as the foot of the Shabluka, or Sixth Cataract, and this method of advance left the Dervishes in some doubt by which bank the final advance would be made.

By an unexpected piece of good fortune the Dervishes had evacuated the rocky heights of the Shabluka gorge. This was matter for rejoicing. There the Nile, which above and below is a mile wide, narrows to a channel of little more than a hundred yards in width. It is the natural defence of Khartum on the north. The strategy of the Khalifa was here again inexplicable, as also was his abandonment of the ridge at Kerreri, some seven miles north of Omdurman. Mr. Bennett Burleigh in his account of the campaign states that the Khalifa had repaired thither once a year to give thanks for the triumph about to be gained there.

At last on September 1, on topping the Kerreri ridge, the invaders caught their first glimpse of Omdurman. Already the gunboats were steaming up to the Mahdist capital to throw in their first shells. They speedily dismounted several guns, and one of the shells tore away a large portion of the gaudy cupola that covered the Mahdi's tomb. Apart from this portent, nothing of moment was done on that day; but it seems probable that the bombardment led the Khalifa to hazard an attack on the invaders in the desert on the side away from the Nile. Nearer to the Sirdar's main force the skirmishing of the 21st Lancers, new to war but eager to "win their spurs," was answered by angry but impotent charges of the Khalifa's horse and foot, until at sunset both sides retired for the night's rest.

The Anglo-Egyptian force made a zariba around the village of el-Gennuaia on the river bank; and there, in full expectation of a night attack, they sought what slumber was to be had. What with a panic rush of Sudanese servants and the stampede of an angry camel, the night wore away uneasily; but there was no charge of Dervishes such as might have carried death to the heart of that small zariba. It is said that the Sirdar had passed the hint to some trusty spies to pretend to be deserters and warn the enemy that he was going to attack them by night. If this be so, spies have never done better service.

When the first glimmer of dawn came on September 2, every man felt instinctively that the Khalifa had thrown away his last chance. Yet few were prepared for the crowning act of madness. Every one feared that he would hold fast to Omdurman and fight the new crusaders from house to house. Possibly the seeming weakness of the zariba tempted him to a concentric attack from the Kerreri Hills and the ridge which stretches on both sides of the steep slopes of the hill, Gebel Surgham. A glance at the accompanying plan will show that the position was such as to tempt a confident enemy. The Sirdar also manoeuvred so as to bring on an attack. He sent out the Egyptian cavalry and camel corps soon after dawn to the plain lying between Gebel Surgham and Omdurman to lure on the Khalifa's men.

The device was completely successful. Believing that they could catch the horsemen in the rocky ridge alongside of Gebel Surgham, the Dervishes came forth from their capital in swarms, pressed them hard, and inflicted some losses. Retiring in good order, the cavalry drew on the eager hordes, until about 6.30 A.M. the white glint of their gibbehs, or tunics, showed thickly above the tawny slopes on either side of Gebel Surgham. On they came in unnumbered throngs, until, pressing northwards along the sky-line, their lines also topped the Kerreri Hills to the north of the zariba. Their aim was obvious: they intended to surround the invaders, pen them up in their zariba, and slaughter them there. To all who did not know the value of the central position in war and the power of modern weapons, the attack seemed to promise complete success. The invaders were 1300 miles away from Cairo and defeat would mean destruction.

Religious zeal lent strength to the onset. From the converging crescent of the Mahdists a sound as of a dim murmur was wafted to the zariba. Little by little it deepened to a hoarse roar, as the host surged on, chanting the pious invocations that so often had struck terror into the Egyptians. Now they heard the threatening din with hearts unmoved; nay, with spirits longing for revenge for untold wrongs and insults. Thus for some minutes in that vast amphitheatre the discipline and calm confidence of the West stood quietly facing the fanatic fury of the East. Two worlds were there embattled: the world of Mohammedanism and the world of Christian civilisation; the empire of untutored force and the empire of mind.

At last, after some minutes of tense expectancy, the cannon opened fire, and speedily gaps were seen in the white masses. Yet the crescent never slackened its advance, except when groups halted to fire their muskets at impossible ranges. Waving their flags and intoning their prayers, the Dervishes charged on in utter scorn of death; but when their ranks came within range of the musketry fire, they went down like swathes of grass under the scythe. Then was seen a marvellous sight. When the dead were falling their fastest, a band of about 150 Dervish horsemen formed near the Khalifa's dark-green standard in the centre and rushed across the fire zone, determined to snatch at triumph or gain the sensuous joys of the Moslem paradise. None of them rode far.



Only on the north, where the camel-corps fell into an awkward plight among the rocks of the Kerreri slope, had the attack any chance of success; and there the shells of one of the six protecting gunboats helped to check the assailants. On this side, too, Colonel Broadwood and his Egyptian cavalry did excellent service by leading no small part of the Dervish left away from the attack on the zariba. At the middle of the fiery crescent the assailants did some execution by firing from a dip in the ground some 400 yards away; but their attempts to rush the intervening space all ended in mere slaughter. Not long after eight o'clock the Khalifa, seeing the hopelessness of attempting to cross the zone of fire around el-Gennuaia, now thickly strewn with his dead, drew off the survivors beyond the ridge of Gebel Surgham; and those who had followed Broadwood's horse also gave up their futile pursuit, and began to muster on the Kerreri ridge.

The Sirdar now sought to force on a fight in the open; and with this aim in view commanded a general advance on Omdurman. In order, as it would seem, to keep a fighting formation that would impose respect on the bands of Dervishes on the Kerreri Hills, he adopted the formation known as echelon of brigades from the left. Macdonald's Sudanese brigade, which held the northern face of the zariba, was therefore compelled to swing round and march diagonally towards Gebel Surgham; and, having a longer space to cover than the other brigades, it soon fell behind them.

For the present, however, the brunt of the danger fell, not on Macdonald, but on the vanguard. The 21st Lancers had been sent forward over the ridge between Gebel Surgham and the Nile with orders to reconnoitre, and, if possible, to head the Dervishes away from their city. Throwing out scouts, they rode over the ridge, but soon afterwards came upon a steep and therefore concealed khor or gulley whence a large body of concealed Dervishes poured a sharp fire[415]. At once Colonel Martin ordered his men to dash at the enemy. Eagerly the troopers obeyed the order and jumped their horses down the slope into the mass of furious fanatics below; these slashed to pieces every one that fell, and viciously sought to hamstring the horses from behind. Pushing through the mass, the lancers scrambled up the further bank, re-formed, and rushed at the groups beyond; after thrusting these aside, they betook themselves to less dramatic but more effective methods. Dismounting, they opened a rapid and very effective fire from their carbines on the throngs that still clustered in or near the gulley. The charge, though a fine display of British pluck, cost the horsemen dear: out of a total of 320 men 60 were killed and wounded; 119 horses were killed or made useless[416].

[Footnote 415: Some accounts state that the Lancers had no scouts, but "an officer" denies this (Sudan Campaign, 1896-99, p. 198).]

[Footnote 416: The general opinion of the army was that the charge of the Lancers "was magnificent, but was not war." See G.W. Steevens' With Kitchener to Khartum, ch. xxxii.]

Meanwhile, Macdonald's brigade, consisting of one Egyptian and three Sudanese battalions, stood on the brink of disaster. The bands from the Kerreri Hills were secretly preparing to charge its rear, while masses of the Khalifa's main following turned back, rounded the western spurs of Gebel Surgham, and threatened to envelop its right flank. The Sirdar, on seeing the danger, ordered Wauchope's brigade to turn back to the help of Macdonald, while Maxwell's Sudanese, swarming up the eastern slopes of Gebel Surgham, poured deadly volleys on the Khalifa's following. Collinson's division and the camel corps were ordered to advance from the neighbourhood of the zariba and support Macdonald on that side. Before these dispositions were complete, that sturdy Scotsman and his Sudanese felt the full weight of the Khalifa's onset. Excited beyond measure, Macdonald's men broke into spasmodic firing as the enemy came on; the deployment into line was thereby disordered, and it needed all Macdonald's power of command to make good the line. His steadiness stiffened the defence, and before the potent charm of western discipline the Khalifa's onset died away.

But now the storm cloud gathering in the rear burst with unexpected fury. Masses of men led by the Khalifa's son, the Sheikh ed Din, rushed down the Kerreri slopes and threatened to overwhelm the brigade. Again there was seen a proof of the ascendancy of mind over brute force. At once Macdonald ordered the left part of his line to wheel round, keeping the right as pivot, so that the whole speedily formed two fronts resembling a capital letter V, pointing outwards to the two hostile forces. Those who saw the movement wondered alike at the masterly resolve, the steadiness of execution, and the fanatical bravery which threatened to make it all of no avail. On came the white swarms of Arabs from the north, until the Sudanese firing once more became wild and ineffective; but, as the ammunition of the blacks ran low and they prepared to trust to the bayonet, the nearest unit of the British division, the Lincolns, doubled up, prolonged Macdonald's line to the right, and poured volley upon volley obliquely into the surging flood. It slackened, stood still, and then slowly ebbed. Macdonald's coolness and the timely arrival of the Lincolns undoubtedly averted a serious disaster[417].

[Footnote 417: See Mr. Winston Churchill's The River War, vol. ii. pp. 160-163, for the help given by the Lincolns.]

Meanwhile, the Khalifa's main force had been held in check and decimated by the artillery now planted on Gebel Surgham and by the fire of the brigades on or near its slopes; so that about eleven o'clock the Sirdar's lines could everywhere advance. After beating off a desperate charge of Baggara horsemen from the west, Macdonald unbent his brigade and drove back the sullen hordes of ed Din to the western spurs of the Kerreri Hills, where they were harassed by Broadwood's horse. All was now ended, except at the centre of the Khalifa's force, where a faithful band clustered about the dark-green standard of their leader and chanted defiance to the infidels till one by one they fell. The chief himself, unworthy object of this devotion, fled away on a swift dromedary some time before the last group of stalwarts bit the sand.



Despite the terrible heat and the thirst of his men, the Sirdar allowed only a brief rest before he resumed the march on Omdurman. Leaving no time for the bulk of the Dervish survivors to reach their capital, he pushed on at the head of Maxwell's brigade, while once more the shells of the gunboats spread terror in the city. The news brought by a few runaways and the sight of the Khalifa's standard carried behind the Egyptian ensign dispelled all hopes of resisting the disciplined Sudanese battalions; and, in order to clinch matters, the Sirdar with splendid courage rode at the head of the brigade to summon the city to surrender. Through the clusters of hovels on the outskirts he rode on despite the protests of his staff against any needless exposure of his life. He rightly counted on the effect which such boldness on the part of the chief must have on an undecided populace. Fanatics here and there fired on the conquerors, but the news of the Khalifa's cowardly flight from the city soon decided the wavering mass to bow before the inscrutable decrees of fate, and ask for backsheesh from the victors.

Thus was Omdurman taken. Neufeld, an Austrian trader, and some Greeks and nuns who had been in captivity for several years, were at once set free. It was afterwards estimated that about 10,000 Dervishes perished in the battle; very many died of their wounds upon the field or were bayoneted owing to their persistence in firing on the victors. This episode formed the darkest side of the triumph; but it was malignantly magnified by some Continental journals into a wholesale slaughter. This is false. Omdurman will bear comparison with Skobeleff's victory at Denghil Tepe at all points.

Two days after his triumph the Sirdar ordered a parade opposite the ruins of the palace in Khartum where Gordon had met his doom. The funeral service held there in memory of the dead hero was, perhaps, the most affecting scene that this generation has witnessed. Detachments of most of the regiments of the rescue force formed a semicircle round the Sirdar; and by his side stood a group of war-worn officers, who with him had toiled for years in order to see this day. The funeral service was intoned; the solemn assembly sang Gordon's favourite hymn, "Abide with me," and the Scottish pipes wailed their lament for the lost chieftain. Few eyes were undimmed by tears at the close of this service, a slight but affecting reparation for the delays and blunders of fourteen years before. Then the Union Jack and the Egyptian Crescent flag were hoisted and received a salute of 21 guns.

The recovery of the Sudan by Egypt and Great Britain was not to pass unchallenged. All along France had viewed the reconquest of the valley of the upper Nile with ill-concealed jealousy, and some persons have maintained that the French Government was not a stranger to designs hatched in France for helping the Khalifa[418]. Now that these questions have been happily buried by the Anglo-French agreement of the year 1904, it would be foolish to recount all that was said amidst the excitements of the year 1898. Some reference must, however, be made to the Fashoda incident, which for a short space threatened to bring Great Britain and France to an open rupture.

[Footnote 418: See an unsigned article in the Contemporary Review for Dec. 1897.]

On September 5, a steamer, flying the white flag, reached Omdurman. The ex-Dervish captain brought the news that at Fashoda he had been fired upon by white men bearing a strange flag. The Sirdar divined the truth, namely, that a French expedition under Major (now Colonel) Marchand must have made its way from the Congo to the White Nile at Fashoda with the aim of annexing that district for France.

Now that the dust of controversy has cleared away, we can see facts in their true proportions, especially as the work recently published by M. de Freycinet and the revelations of Colonel Marchand have thrown more light on the affair. Briefly stated, the French case is as follows. Mr. Gladstone on May 11, 1885, declared officially that Egypt limited her sway to a line drawn through Wady Haifa. The authority of the Khedive over the Sudan therefore ceased, though this did not imply the cessation of the Sultan's suzerainty in those regions. Further, England had acted as if the Sudan were no man's land by appropriating the southernmost part in accordance with the Anglo-German agreement of July I, 1890; and Uganda became a British Protectorate in August 1894. The French protested against this extension of British influence over the Upper Nile; and we must admit that, in regard to international law, they were right. The power to will away that district lay with the Sultan, the Khedive's claims having practically lapsed. Germany, it is true, agreed not to contest the annexation of Uganda, but France did contest it.

The Republic also entered a protest against the Anglo-Congolese Convention of May 12, 1894, whereby, in return for the acquisition of the right bank of the Upper Nile, England ceded to the Congo Free State the left bank[419]. That compact was accordingly withdrawn, and on August 14, 1894, France secured from the Free State the recognition of her claims to the left bank of the Nile with the exception of the Lado district below the Albert Nyanza. This action on the part of France implied a desire on her part to appropriate these lands, and to contest the British claim to the right bank. In regard to law, she was justified in so doing; and had she, acting as the mandatory of the Sultan, sent an expedition from the Congo to the Upper Nile, her conduct in proclaiming a Turco-Frankish condominium would have been unexceptionable. That of Britain was open to question, seeing that we practically ignored the Sultan[420] and acted (so far as is known) on our own initiative in reversing the policy of abandonment officially announced in May 1885. From the standpoint of equity, however, the Khedive had the first claim to the territories then given up under stress of circumstances; and the Power that helped him to regain the heritage of his sires obviously had a strong claim to consideration so long as it acted with the full consent of that potentate.

[Footnote 419: Parl. Papers, Egypt, No. 2 (1898), pp. 13-14.]

[Footnote 420: The Earl of Kimberley's reply of Aug. 14, 1894, to M. Hanotaux, is very weak on this topic. Parl. Papers, Egypt, No. 2 (1898), pp. 14-15.]

The British Cabinet, that of Lord Rosebery, frankly proclaimed its determination to champion the claims of the Khedive against all comers, Sir Edward Grey declaring officially in the debate of March 28, 1895, that the despatch of a French expedition to the Upper Nile would be "an unfriendly act[421]." We know now, through the revelations made by Colonel Marchand in the Matin of June 20, 1905, that in June 1895 he had pressed the French Government to intervene in that quarter; but it did little, relying (so M. de Freycinet states) on the compact of August 14, 1894, and not, apparently, on any mandate from the Sultan. If so, it had less right to intervene than the British Government had in virtue of its close connection with the Khedive. As a matter of fact, both Powers lacked an authoritative mandate and acted in accordance with their own interests. It is therefore futile to appeal to law, as M. de Freycinet has done.

[Footnote 421: Ibid. p. 18.]

It remained to see which of the two would act the more efficiently. M. Marchand states that his plan of action was approved by the French Minister for the Colonies, M. Berthelot, on November 16, 1895; but little came of it until the news of the preparations for the Anglo-Egyptian Expedition reached Paris. It would be interesting to hear what Lord Rosebery and Sir Edward Grey would say to this. For the present we may affirm with some confidence that the tidings of the Franco-Congolese compact of August 1894 and of expeditions sent under Monteil and Liotard towards the Nile basin must have furnished the real motive for the despatch of the Sirdar's army on the expedition to Dongola. That event in its turn aroused angry feelings at Paris, and M. Berthelot went so far as to inform Lord Salisbury that he would not hold himself responsible for events that might occur if the expedition up the Nile were persisted in. After giving this brusque but useful warning of the importance which France attached to the Upper Nile, M. Berthelot quitted office, and M. Bourgeois, the Prime Minister, took the portfolio for foreign affairs. He pushed on the Marchand expedition; so also did his successor, M. Hanotaux, in the Meline Cabinet which speedily supervened.

Marchand left Marseilles on June 25, 1896, to join his expeditionary force, then being prepared in the French Congo. It is needless to detail the struggles of the gallant band. After battling for two years with the rapids, swamps, forests, and mountains of Eastern Congoland and the Bahr-el-Ghazal, he brought his flotilla down to the White Nile, thence up its course to Fashoda, where he hoisted the tricolour (July 12, 1898). His men strengthened the old Egyptian fort, and beat off an attack of the Dervishes.

Nevertheless they had only half succeeded, for they relied on the approach of a French Mission from the east by way of Abyssinia. A Prince of the House of Orleans had been working hard to this end, but owing to the hostility of the natives of Southern Abyssinia that expedition had to fall back on Kukong. A Russian officer, Colonel Artomoroff, had struggled on down the River Sobat, but he and his band also had to retire[422]. The purport of these Franco-Russian designs is not yet known; but even so, we can see that the situation was one of great peril. Had the French and Russian officers from Abyssinia joined hands with Marchand at Fashoda, their Governments might have made it a point of honour to remain, and to claim for France a belt of territory extending from the confines of the French Congo eastwards to Obock on the Red Sea.

[Footnote 422: Marchand l'Africain, by C. Castellani, pp. 279-280. The author reveals his malice by the statement (p. 293) that the Sirdar, after the battle of Omdurman, ordered 14,000 Dervish wounded to be eventres.]

As it was, Marchand and his heroic little band were in much danger from the Dervishes when the Sirdar and his force steamed up to Fashoda. The interview between the two chiefs at that place was of historic interest. Sir Herbert Kitchener congratulated the Major on his triumph of exploration, but claimed that he must plant the flag of the Khedive at Fashoda. M. Marchand declared that he would hoist it himself over the village. "Over the fort, Major," replied the Sirdar. "I cannot permit it," exclaimed the Major, "as the French flag is there." A reference by the Sirdar to his superiority of force produced no effect, the French commander stating that if it were used he and his men would die at their posts. He, however, requested the Sirdar to let the matter be referred to the Government at Paris, to which Sir Herbert assented. After exchanging courteous gifts they parted, the Sirdar leaving an Egyptian force in the village, and lodging a written protest against the presence of the French force[423]. He then proceeded up stream to the Sobat tributary, on the banks of which at Nassar he left half of a Sudanese battalion to bar the road on that side to geographical explorers provided with flags. He then returned to Khartum.

[Footnote 423: Parl. Papers, Egypt, No. 2 (1898), p. 9; No. 3 (1898), pp. 3-4.]

The sequel is well known. Lord Salisbury's Government behaved with unexpected firmness, asserting that the overthrow of the Mahdi brought again under the Egyptian flag all the lands which that leader had for a time occupied. The claim was not wholly convincing in the sphere of logic; but the victory of Omdurman gave it force. Clearly, then, whether Major Marchand was an emissary of civilisation or a pioneer of French rule, he had no locus standi on the Nile. The French Government before long gave way and recalled Major Marchand, who returned to France by way of Cairo. This tame end to what was a heroic struggle to extend French influence greatly incensed the major; and at Cairo he made a speech, declaring that for the present France was worsted in the valley of the Nile, but the day might come when she would be supreme.

It is generally believed that France gave way at this juncture partly because her navy was known to be unequal to a conflict with that of Great Britain, but also because Franco-German relations were none of the best. Or, in the language of the Parisian boulevards: "How do we know that while we are fighting the British for the Nile valley, Germany will not invade Lorraine?" As to the influences emanating from St. Petersburg contradictory statements have been made. Rumour asserted that the Czar sought to moderate the irritation in France and to bring about a peaceful settlement of the dispute; and this story won general acceptance. The astonishment was therefore great when, in the early part of the Russo-Japanese war, the Paris Figaro published documents which seemed to prove that he had assured the French Government of his determination to fulfil the terms of the alliance if matters came to the sword.

There we must leave the affair, merely noting that the Anglo-French agreement of March 1899 peaceably ended the dispute and placed the whole of the Egyptian Sudan, together with the Bahr-el-Ghazal district and the greater part of the Libyan Desert, west of Egypt, under the Anglo-Egyptian sphere of influence. (See map at the end of this volume.)

The battle of Omdurman therefore ranks with the most decisive in modern history, not only in a military sense, but also because it extended British influence up the Nile valley as far as Uganda. Had French statesmen and M. Marchand achieved their aims, there is little doubt that a solid wedge would have been driven through north-central Africa from west to east, from the Ubangi Province of French Congoland to the mouth of the Red Sea. The Sirdar's triumph came just in time to thwart this design and to place in the hands that administered Egypt the control of the waters whence that land draws its life. Without crediting the stories that were put forth in the French Press as to the possibility of France damming up the Nile at Fashoda and diverting its floods into the Bahr-el-Ghazal district, we may recognise that the control of that river by Egypt is a vital necessity, and that the nation which helped the Khedive to regain that control thereby established one more claim to a close partnership in the administration at Cairo. The reasonableness of that claim was finally admitted by France in the Anglo-French agreement of the year 1904.

That treaty set the seal, apparently, on a series of efforts of a strangely mixed character. The control of bondholders, the ill-advised strivings of Arabi, the armed intervention undertaken by Sir Beauchamp Seymour and Sir Garnet Wolseley, the forlorn hope of Gordon's Mission to Khartum, the fanaticism of the Mahdists, the diplomatic skill of Lord Cromer, the covert opposition of France and the Sultan, and the organising genius of Lord Kitchener—such is the medley of influences, ranging from the basest up to the noblest of which human nature is capable, that served to draw the Government of Great Britain deeper and deeper into the meshes of the Egyptian Question, until the heroism, skill, and stubbornness of a few of her sons brought about results which would now astonish those who early in the eighties tardily put forth the first timid efforts at intervention.



CHAPTER XVIII

THE PARTITION OF AFRICA

In the opening up of new lands by European peoples the order of events is generally somewhat as follows:—First come explorers, pioneers, or missionaries. These having thrown some light on the character of a land or of its people, traders follow in their wake; and in due course factories are formed and settlements arise. The ideas of the new-comers as to the rights of property and landholding differ so widely from those of the natives, that quarrels and strifes frequently ensue. Warships and soldiers then appear on the scene; and the end of the old order of things is marked by the hoisting of the Union Jack, or the French or German tricolour. In the case of the expansion of Russia as we have seen, the procedure is far otherwise. But Africa has been for the most part explored, exploited, and annexed by agencies working from the sea and proceeding in the way just outlined.

The period since the year 1870 has for the most part witnessed the operation of the last and the least romantic of these so-called civilising efforts. The great age of African exploration was then drawing to a close. In the year 1870 that devoted missionary explorer, David Livingstone, was lost to sight for many months owing to his earnest longing peacefully to solve the great problem of the waterways of Central Africa, and thus open up an easy path for the suppression of the slave-trade. But when, in 1871, Mr. H.M. Stanley, the enterprising correspondent of the New York Herald, at the head of a rescue expedition, met the grizzled, fever-stricken veteran near Ujiji and greeted him with the words—"Mr. Livingstone, I presume," the age of mystery and picturesqueness vanished away.

A change in the spirit and methods of exploration naturally comes about when the efforts of single individuals give place to collective enterprise[424], and that change was now rapidly to come over the whole field of African exploration. The day of the Mungo Parks and Livingstones was passing away, and the day of associations and companies was at hand. In 1876, Leopold II., King of the Belgians, summoned to Brussels several of the leading explorers and geographers in order to confer on the best methods of opening up Africa. The specific results of this important Conference will be considered in the next chapter; but we may here note that, under the auspices of the "International Association for the Exploration and Civilisation of Africa" then founded, much pioneer work was carried out in districts remote from the River Congo. The vast continent also yielded up its secrets to travellers working their way in from the south and the north, so that in the late seventies the white races opened up to view vast and populous districts which imaginative chartographers in other ages had diversified with the Mountains of the Moon or with signs of the Zodiac and monstrosities of the animal creation.

[Footnote 424: In saying this I do not underrate the achievements of explorers like Stanley, Thomson, Cameron, Schweinfurth, Pogge, Nachtigall, Pinto, de Brazza, Johnston, Wissmann, Holub, Lugard, and others; but apart from the first two, none of them made discoveries that can be called epoch-marking.]

The last epoch-marking work carried through by an individual was accomplished by a Scottish explorer, whose achievements almost rivalled those of Livingstone. Joseph Thomson, a native of Dumfriesshire, succeeded in 1879 to the command of an exploring party which sought to open up the country around the lakes of Nyassa and Tanganyika. Four years later, on behalf of the Royal Geographical Society, he undertook to examine the country behind Mombasa which was little better known than when Vasco da Gama first touched there. In this journey Thomson discovered two snow-capped mountains, Kilimanjaro and Kenia, and made known the resources of the country as far inland as the Victoria Nyanza. Considering the small resources he had at hand, and the cruel and warlike character of the Masai people through whom he journeyed, this journey was by far the most remarkable and important in the annals of exploration during the eighties. Thomson afterwards undertook to open a way from the Benue, the great eastern affluent of the Niger, to Lake Chad and the White Nile. Here again he succeeded beyond all expectation, while his tactful management of the natives led to political results of the highest importance, as will shortly appear.

These explorations and those of French, German, and Portuguese travellers served to bring nearly the whole of Africa within the ken of the civilised world, and revealed the fact that nearly all parts of tropical Africa had a distinct commercial value.

This discovery, we may point out, is the necessary preliminary to any great and sustained work of colonisation and annexation. Three conditions may be looked on as essential to such an effort. First, that new lands should be known to be worth the labour of exploitation or settlement; second, that the older nations should possess enough vitality to pour settlers and treasure into them; and thirdly, that mechanical appliances should be available for the overcoming of natural obstacles.

Now, a brief glance at the great eras of exploring and colonising activity will show that in all these three directions the last thirty years have presented advantages which are unique in the history of the world. A few words will suffice to make good this assertion. The wars which constantly devastated the ancient world, and the feeble resources in regard to navigation wielded by adventurous captains, such as Hanno the Carthaginian, grievously hampered all the efforts of explorers by sea, while mechanical appliances were so weak as to cripple man's efforts at penetrating the interior. The same is true of the mediaeval voyagers and travellers. Only the very princes among men, Columbus, Magellan, Vasco da Gama, Cabot, Cabral, Gilbert, and Raleigh, could have done what they did with ships that were mere playthings. Science had to do her work of long and patient research before man could hopefully face the mighty forces and malignant influences of the tropics. Nor was the advance of knowledge and invention sufficient by itself to equip man for successful war against the ocean, the desert, the forest, and the swamp. The political and social development of the older countries was equally necessary. In order that thousands of settlers should be able and ready to press in where the one great leader had shown the way, Europe had to gain something like peace and stability. Only thus, when the natural surplus of the white races could devote itself to the task of peacefully subduing the earth rather than to the hideous work of mutual slaughter, could the life-blood of Europe be poured forth in fertilising streams into the waste places of the other continents.

The latter half of the eighteenth century promised for a brief space to inaugurate such a period of expansive life. The close of the Seven Years' War seemed to be the starting point for a peaceful campaign against the unknown; but the efforts of Cook, d'Entrecasteaux, and others then had little practical result, owing to the American War of Independence, and the great cycle of the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars. These in their turn left Europe too exhausted to accomplish much in the way of colonial expansion until the middle of the nineteenth century. Even then, when the steamship and the locomotive were at hand to multiply man's powers, there was, as yet, no general wish, except on the part of the more fortunate English-speaking peoples, to enter into man's new heritage. The problems of Europe had to be settled before the age of expansive activity could dawn in its full radiance. As has been previously shown, Europe was in an introspective mood up to the years 1870-1878.

Our foregoing studies have shown that the years following the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-8, brought about a state of political equilibrium which made for peace and stagnation in Europe; and the natural forces of the Continent, cramped by the opposition of equal and powerful forces, took the line of least resistance—away from Europe. For Russia, the line of least resistance was in Central Asia. For all other European States it was the sea, and the new lands beyond.

Furthermore, in that momentous decade the steamship and locomotive were constantly gaining in efficiency; electricity was entering the arena as a new and mighty force; by this time medical science had so far advanced as to screen man from many of the ills of which the tropics are profuse; and the repeating rifle multiplied the power of the white man in his conflicts with savage peoples. When all the advantages of the present generation are weighed in the balance against the meagre equipment of the earlier discoverers, the nineteenth century has scant claim for boasting over the fifteenth. In truth, its great achievements in this sphere have been practical and political. It has only fulfilled the rich promise of the age of the great navigators. Where they could but wonderingly skirt the fringes of a new world, the moderns have won their way to the heart of things and found many an Eldorado potentially richer than that which tempted the cupidity of Cortes and Pizarro.

In one respect the European statesmen of the recent past tower above their predecessors of the centuries before. In the eighteenth century the "mercantilist" craze for seizing new markets and shutting out all possible rivals brought about most of the wars that desolated Europe. In the years 1880-1890 the great Powers put forth sustained and successful efforts to avert the like calamity, and to cloak with the mantle of diplomacy the eager scrambles for the unclaimed lands of the world.

For various reasons the attention of statesmen turned almost solely on Africa. Central and South America were divided among States that were nominally civilised and enjoyed the protection of the Monroe Doctrine put forward by the United States. Australia was wholly British. In Asia the weakness of China was but dimly surmised; and Siam and Cochin China alone offered any field for settlement or conquest by European peoples from the sea. In Polynesia several groups of islands were still unclaimed; but these could not appease the land-hunger of Europe. Africa alone provided void spaces proportionate to the needs and ambitions of the white man. The opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 served to bring the east coast of that continent within easy reach of Europe; and the discoveries on the Upper Nile, Congo, and Niger opened a way into other large parts. Thus, by the year 1880, everything favoured the "partition of Africa."