Khartoum Campaign, 1898; or the Re-Conquest of the Soudan

by Bennet Burleigh

"Death and his brother sleep" can only be staved off; they overcome in the end. The tired soldiers dropped into profound slumber, although the night of the 29th August at Um Terif was boisterous and the cruel enemy near. It was one of the real surprises of the campaign, that the Mahdists never really harassed us, or ventured to rush our lines under cover of night, or in the fog of a dust storm. It has often been too hastily assumed that the dervishes never attacked by night. By the Nile and in the Eastern Soudan they repeatedly pushed attacks under cover of darkness, or worried their opponents by persistent sniping,—as for instance at Tamai, before Suakin and Abu Klea. Then again, their final and successful assault upon Khartoum was delivered at dawn. Hicks Pasha's force was hammered early and late. It is all the more strange, therefore, that they left the Sirdar's army severely alone, never practising their familiar harassing tactics and seeking to secure an advantage. Numerous, swift of foot, with spears and swords, the odds would have been much more in their favour had they come down like wolves in the night. It is difficult to say exactly what would have happened, and it is not pleasant to contemplate what might have befallen. In such a conflict the Sirdar's losses would have been great. Could it have been that the Khalifa believed some of the stories set about that our army intended paying him a surprise visit by night, as we did Mahmoud, and so he kept his men in camp quietly waiting for us. The utmost precautions were taken by the Sirdar and his generals to protect the lines. A strong zereba surrounded the camp; sentries were doubled, and active patrols were on the alert all night. The gale continued until after sunset, when heavy rain clouds gathered, obscuring the moonlight. By and by there came on a violent and protracted thunderstorm, accompanied by an almost continuous deluge. There was nothing to be done but to lie fast wrapped in great coat or blanket and await the passing of the hours, wet, chilled, ruminating on all sorts of queer subjects. I managed to undo a corner of my packed tent and under it obtained relative warmth, and dryness in spots.

The persistence of that storm bred despair. It was nearly 8 a.m. on Tuesday the 30th August, when, having drenched us all to the marrow, the rain ceased. The sun, although two hours high, was battling with a fine mist. It was in a perfect downpour of rain at four o'clock in the morning, that réveille had been sounded. And it was in sludge and slush camels and mules were fed and loaded, and horses baited and saddled. By 5.20 a.m. the army was at length on the march out of camp, our faces set towards a village called Merreh, best indicated upon the maps as Seg or Sheikh el Taib, the latter being the name of a low hill. The distance the force was expected to trudge was about eight miles, but the overflowed land put two miles more on. When daylight came we could see Abdul Azim's friendlies upon the opposite side of the Nile. Led by Major Stuart-Wortley, with whom were Lieutenant R. Wood and Captain Buckle, the camels of their column kept pace with ours. Closely skirting the east bank that day, Abdul Azim's warriors had their right supported by one of the gunboats.

With the Sirdar and staff riding at the head of the infantry columns, the army advanced in the formation in which it had been determined to attack the enemy at Kerreri. Once more our mounted troops pushed far ahead, covering a wide stretch of country, the 21st Lancers under Colonel Martin on the left, the Egyptian cavalry under Colonel Broadwood and eight companies of the Camel Corps under Major Tudway on the extreme right. The infantry presented a front of three brigades marching in échelon. A battery of artillery was attached to each infantry brigade except Collinson's brigade. Three battalions were detached from the whole force to guard the baggage and transport which followed in the rear. In front on the left, or nearest the Nile, was Wauchope's brigade. The four British battalions thereof marched side by side in column, the Lincolns upon the right, the Warwicks on the left, with the Seaforths and Camerons between them. To the right of Wauchope's brigade was Maxwell's, and next it Lewis's Khedivial brigades. Behind each of the three leading brigades above named (reading from left to right) were Lyttelton's, Collinson's, and Macdonald's commands. Seen upon the desert the army had the appearance of a huge square with front a mile broad. The day being cloudy, and cooler than usual for the season, General Gatacre and his brigadiers voted at a council to extend the march. That course was adopted, the army keeping on, but with very many brief halts for the brigades to regain their formation. By the extra tramp the troops were enabled to pass beyond the broad margin of thick bush out upon the comparatively open, pebbly, and rocky ground, which sloped to a narrow strip of soft, wet loam fringing the river. About 1 p.m., when still fully one mile north of the hill of Sheikh el Taib, the army halted and a camp was made. Access to the Nile was very difficult, for overflowed, boggy land interposed. Roads, however, were made with cut bush, and the animals were led over them to be watered. During the army's march the Lancers scoured the country far in front. They managed to get into touch with some dervish patrols whilst scouting. The opposing troopers looked at each other from relatively open ground, and standing separated by only a few hundred yards. One Baggara horseman came within 150 yards of our men. The Lancers, keen to engage with steel, did not attempt to fire upon their intrusive foemen, but innocently tried instead to bag them. Several times our troopers advanced to the charge, but the enemy, when the Lancers sought to put hands upon them, were gone. That day the Baggara horsemen were met with in far greater numbers than previously. By instructions, the Lancers rushed one of the many small villages, or groups of native mud-dwellings and beehive straw huts that dotted the sparse bush-land a mile or more inland from the river beyond Sheikh el Taib. Several of the enemy hastened away, and in one of the huts a man in dervish dress was found awaiting the troops. He turned out to be a secret agent of Colonel Wingate's Intelligence Department. The spy in question was a Shaggieh, named Eshanni, and but thirty hours out from Omdurman. I was led to understand that he gave much valuable information as to the position and strength of the Khalifa's force and the state of affairs in Omdurman. We were told that the Khalifa meant to attack us at or near Kerreri. There was an old-time prophecy of the Persian Sheikh Morghani, whose tomb is near Kassala, that the English soldiers would one day fight at Kerreri. Mahomed Achmed and Abdullah had further added to the prediction that there they were to be attacked and defeated by the dervishes under the Khalifa. Kerreri plain, therefore, had become a sort of holy place of pilgrimage to the Mahdists. It was called the "death place of all the infidels," and thither at least once a year repaired the Khalifa and his following to look over the coming battle-ground and render thanks in anticipation for the wholesale slaughter of the unbelievers and the triumph of the true Moslems.

All except those on duty were abed by last post on 30th August at Sheikh el Taib camp. Lights were ordered out, and the camp for a time relapsed into darkness and silence. Headquarters and all other tents had been struck and packed. During the night there was shooting, the crack of the musketry sounding relatively near, but occasioning little annoyance. The bullets were badly aimed if directed against the British quarters. Whether the firing was really meant for "sniping" by the dervishes, or was only a note of warning to their friends of our presence, was not easy to decide with any degree of certainty. There was no big roll of wounded to test the enemy's intent by, and a later incipient alarm caused in another part of the camp in the small hours was possibly all a mistake. One thing the dervishes did do. After the manner of hill-men, they lit beacon fires on the rocky ridges around us to warn the Khalifa of our whereabouts.

Artillery going towards Omdurman.

That night the camp lines had been drawn still closer than ever, only 260 yards' front being given to each battalion. On the morning of 31st the troops were early astir. By 5.30 a.m. the main body, following the mounted troops, had faced to the right, and were marching to the westward so as to clear the bush and get out upon the open desert tracks leading to Omdurman. The ground the army passed over was broken, and there was scrub with several small khors to cross, so the force proceeded slowly and cautiously. Four of the gunboats steamed up the river, keeping abreast of our widely spread out cavalry. About six o'clock the Lancers had again ascended to the top of El Taib, a hill from which at that hour I was enabled to get a view of the dervish camp. It appeared to be about ten miles due south. The Mahdists were disposed in three long dense lines, at almost right angle to the river. They were partly hidden among the low scrub west of Kerreri town or village, their right being quite 2000 yards from the Nile, which showed they had a wholesome respect for the gunboats. Flags and helios were speedily busy in the hands of our signalmen sending back information to the Sirdar. Seeing groups of dervishes within range, as well as bands of Baggara horsemen, the gunboats opened fire from their 15-pounders and Maxims shortly after 7 a.m., driving the enemy's nearest patrols into hiding or out of range.

In one of the numberless villages passed, there were several mutilated and charred human bodies, victims of dervish suspicion, greed and cruelty. Pushing well ahead on our right the Khedivial mounted force got a chance to send a few volleys into groups of Abd el Baki's scouts. That Emir commanded the dervish outlying forces. It was still quite early when after an easy journey of eight miles the infantry turned aside towards the river. The army was halted at a place called Sururab, a few miles north of Kerreri. Why it was called Sururab I know not, nor have I found the name on any map; but that was the official designation given to the place where the force subsequently bivouacked. The only reasonable fault to be found with Sururab was that the river banks were exceedingly difficult of access. Our camps were getting from bad to worse. That day flocks of huge vultures were to be seen circling overhead as the army advanced. It may have been our approach that disturbed them from their carrion feasts in the devastated villages and the abandoned dervish camps. Omdurman itself must also have long been a choice feeding place for them.

Once more the Sirdar's army had to spend an uncomfortable night. The few tents that had been carried so far afield belonged to headquarters, generals, commanding officers, and correspondents. They were more of a burden than a comfort, for all canvas had to be struck by last post, and thereafter neither lights nor loud talking were permitted. The native troops' low shelter tents made out of their spare rough blankets were allowed to pass unchallenged. It was another night to be remembered which the army passed at Sururab. Early in the evening the clouds gathered, and a series of violent thunderstorms, accompanied by heavy rain, continued almost without cessation through the weary, lagging hours. Rolled in their blankets, the soldiers, wetted through, lay upon the sodden ground. Such of us as could crawled under sheets of canvas or waterproofs, but these afforded little protection from the driving sheets of falling water. From Sirdar to private none escaped a thorough wetting. The enemy, had he chosen, might have advanced from Kerreri or Omdurman, and been upon us ere an alarm could have been given. Shortly after sunset everybody had to be within the zereba. All openings in the hedge were thereafter stopped up, and no one was allowed outside before réveille. Officers and men of Gatacre's division had as usual to sleep in their places lying down in the ranks fully dressed, with their arms beside them, ready to spring to attention. Sentinels and patrols, watchful and observant, moved noiselessly about throughout the whole night. True, there were outside a few of Slatin's most trusted native friends, chiefly Jaalin, set to listen and raise an outcry if the Khalifa's dervishes came down upon us under cover of the inky night. But I had grave doubts whether these native allies would have been of any service, as the likelihood was that they were huddled under some rock or tree, shivering in their wraps and sheepskins. Had the Khalifa been astute or a tactician he would have attacked our camp at Sururab that night or early next morning. He must have succeeded, at any rate, in getting close enough to us without our hearing a note of warning to have placed his army upon a practical equality with ours in point of value of rifle fire. The Remington at 300 yards is as good as the Lee-Metford for killing or wounding. His superiority in numbers and mobility would have been all in his favour. Luckily, it was not to be. We were again allowed to sleep in such peace as the elements would permit. The fact remains that the dervishes lost another of the several excellent chances they had to do us signal hurt.