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 £10,000, 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].
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].
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.
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].
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].
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.
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.
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].
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
The Battle of Omdurman
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].
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].
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,
Plan of Khartum
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 Tepé 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.
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.
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.
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 Méline 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.
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.
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.
FOOTNOTES:
[407] Wingate, Mahdism, pp. 228-233.
[408] England in Egypt, by Sir Alfred Milner, pp. 145-153.
[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.
[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).
[411] Sudan Campaign, 1896-97, by "An Officer," p. 20.
[412] Ibid, p. 54.
[413] The Downfall of the Dervishes, by E. N. Bennett, M.A., p. 23.
[414] The Egyptian Sudan: its Loss and Recovery, by H. S. L. Alford and W. D. Sword, ch. iv.
[415] Some accounts state that the Lancers had no scouts, but "an officer" denies this (Sudan Campaign, 1896-99, p. 198).
[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.
[417] See Mr. Winston Churchill's The River War, vol. ii. pp. 160-163, for the help given by the Lincolns.
[418] See an unsigned article in the Contemporary Review for Dec. 1897.
[419] Parl. Papers, Egypt, No. 2 (1898), pp. 13-14.
[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.
[421] Ibid. p. 18.
[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 éventrés.
[423] Parl. Papers, Egypt, No. 2 (1898), p. 9; No. 3 (1898), pp. 3-4.