Hoisting Flags, Khartoum.
Ere the echo of cannon had died away another ceremony had begun. The British band played softly the "Dead March in Saul," and every head was bared in memory of Gordon. His funeral obsequies were at last taking place upon the spot where he fell. Then the Egyptian band played their quaint funeral march, and the native men and women, understanding that, and whom it was played for, raised their prolonged, shrill, wailing cry. Count Calderai, the Italian Military Attaché, who stood near the Sirdar, was deeply affected, whilst Count von Tiedmann, the German Attaché, who appeared in his magnificent white Cuirassier uniform on the occasion, was even more keenly impressed, a soldier's tears coursing down his cheeks. But there! Other eyes were wet, and cheeks too, as well as his, and bronzed veterans were not ashamed of it either. Sadness and bitter memories! So the Gordon legend, if you will, shall live as long as the English name endures. A brief pause, and in gentle voice and manner the Rev. John M. Sims, Presbyterian Chaplain—Gordon's faith—broke the silence. In his brief prayer he said: "Our help is in the name of the Lord who made heaven and earth." Then he observed, "Let us hear God's word as written for our instruction," reading from Psalm XV. the following verses: "Lord, who shall abide in Thy tabernacle? Who shall dwell in Thy holy hill? He that walketh uprightly, and worketh righteousness, and speaketh the truth in his heart. He that backbiteth not with his tongue, nor doeth evil to his neighbour, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbour. In whose eyes a vile person is contemned; but he honoureth them that fear the Lord. He that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not. He that putteth not out his money to usury, nor taketh reward against the innocent. He that doeth these things shall never be moved." "And to God's great name shall be all the praise and glory, world without end. Amen." When Mr Sims had concluded, the Rev. A. W. B. Watson, Church of England Chaplain, recited the Lord's Prayer. Following him the Rev. R. Brindle, Roman Catholic Chaplain, prayed, saying: "O Almighty God, by whose providence are all things which come into the lives of men, whether of suffering which Thou permittest, or of joy and gladness which Thou givest, look down, we beseech Thee, with eyes of pity and compassion on this land so loved by that heroic soul whose memory we honour before Thee this day. Give back to it days of peace. Send to it rulers animated by his spirit of justice and righteousness. Strengthen them in the might of Thy power, that they may labour in making perfect the work to which he devoted and for which he gave his life. And grant to us, Thy servants, that we may copy his virtues of self-sacrifice and fortitude, so that when Thou callest we may each be able to answer, 'I have fought the good fight,'—a blessing which we humbly ask in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen."
When Father Brindle had concluded, the pipers, accompanied by muffled drums, played the Coronach as a lament. The weird Highland minstrelsy seemed quite in keeping with the place and solemn scene. Then the Khedivial band played a hymn tune, "Thy Will be Done," and the sad ceremony was closed to the boom of minute guns. Generals Rundle, Gatacre, and Hunter then stepped forward and congratulated the Sirdar upon the successful completion of his task, and the commanding officers and others, following their example, did the same. Sir Herbert acknowledged their greeting, and announced that the men would be allowed to break off for half an hour or so to go over the ruins and gardens if they wished. Everybody availed himself of the opportunity. In a few minutes a throng of officers and men who had scrambled over the débris filled the roofless rooms and packed the stairway where Gordon was struck down. I was surprised to find that even the youngest, most callow soldiers knew their Khartoum and the story of Gordon's fight and death. So deep and far had the tale travelled. There were speculations and suggestions as to how the end exactly came about that were a revelation to me, so full of information and pregnant of observation were many of the men's remarks. Throng succeeded throng in the rooms and stairways, whilst others went to explore the outhouses and the gardens. The passion flowers and the pomegranates were in bloom, but the oranges and limes were in fruit. Leaves and buds were plucked by all of us as souvenirs. Brigade-Major Snow, who was with the Camel Corps in 1884–85 across the Bayuda desert, produced a tiny bottle of champagne that was to have been drunk in Khartoum when we got there. He opened it, and shared the driblet with a few of the old campaigners. By one p.m. we were all back again in Omdurman, leaving behind two companies of the 11th Battalion to hold Khartoum for the two flags, the hoisting of which, side by side, the Egyptians regarded as natural and most proper.
CHAPTER XIV.
Khartoum Memorial College.—The Official Despatches.
It was decided by the Sirdar, from whom no successful appeal was possible, that, after the occupation of Khartoum, the war correspondents had no longer any pretext for remaining in the country. There were no questions raised by the military to excuse their ruling. No more was heard about the difficulties of transport, the scarcity of provisions, and everything being required for the soldiers. Had not the keen Greek sutlers, as usual, followed the army in shoals, managing somehow to convey themselves and their goods to the front? We had not been two days encamped at Omdurman before some of these traders arrived, and, dumping their sacks and boxes by the wayside, started selling forthwith. The natives, too, speedily reassured, brought out and squatted before baskets of dates, onions, and other comestibles they were anxious to dispose of for English or Egyptian money. Rightly contemning the Khalifa's coinage as practically valueless, they refused to accept it in payment, and proffered to sell all they possessed at the price of old copper. The British troops made their triumphal entry into Omdurman on the 5th of September, and several of the correspondents left for England the same day. We who remained had a sort of Hobson's choice, either to return to Cairo on the 8th September or to remain in Omdurman out of which we should not be allowed to stir until all the British troops had gone, when we should have to leave with the last batch. Which course we should adopt was with fine humour left to be decided by a majority of ourselves. For once the Press was practically unanimous and elected to shake the dust of the Soudan from their feet, and so it came about that the war correspondents had to fold their tents and go, disposing of their quadrupeds as best they could. There was no alternative in the case of the horses between accepting any price for them or shooting them, for, in the Soudan, there being no grazing, a horse must have a master or starve. I disposed of a £40 animal for £1 and got but little more for three others. The camels and stores fetched somewhat better prices. Our servants we took back to their homes.
Yet for sundry reasons I was anxious to be allowed to remain longer in the Soudan. There was news of fighting and movement up the Blue Nile. Emir Ahmed Fadl bringing a force of 3000 dervishes from Gedarif to assist the Khalifa had been driven back by the gunboat "Sultan." More important still, rumours had reached us that the French, under Marchand, were at Fashoda. I knew that the Sirdar intended sending a force upon the gunboats up the White Nile to Fashoda and Sobat, so I made both verbal and written requests to the General for permission to accompany the expedition. That, I was told, could not be granted. We had full confirmation of the fact that Major Marchand was at Fashoda brought down to Omdurman on the 7th September by the dervish steamer "Tewfikieh." I boarded her and had a long chat with the captain (reis) and members of the crew, all of whom wore jibbehs. The little craft was an ex-Thames, above-the-bridges, penny steamer with Penn's oscillating engines. She was one of the boats Gordon sent from Khartoum in 1884 to meet the Desert Column at Metemmeh. She was, if possible, more dilapidated-looking than ever. By guarded questioning I ascertained that the "Tewfikieh" was three days out from Fashoda. She and the "Safieh," another dervish steamer, had been hotly fired upon by the French who were occupying the old Egyptian fort with 100 Senegalese or natives of Timbuctoo. A number of local natives, Shilluks, who had long been hostile to the dervishes, were co-operating with the strangers. The reis accurately described the French flag which was flying over the works and the appearance of the Europeans. I was also able to procure several of the Lebel rifle bullets that had entered the upper structure of the steamer. The censor struck out from my telegrams all allusion to the presence of the French at Fashoda, and I had to wait until I returned to Lower Egypt to transmit the news to London. I openly held that the Fashoda affair should be promptly and fully disclosed to the British public, and I acted upon that conviction.
The "Safieh" remained up the Nile, making fast to the bank about 100 miles north of Fashoda, to await the return of the "Tewfikieh" with orders from the Khalifa and reinforcements to destroy the French. No doubt there was an attempt made to carry out an Anglophobe idea of effecting a friendly alliance with the Mahdists so as to secure to France the right of access to the Nile and the Bahr el Ghazal. It was an effort to achieve the impossible, to negotiate a treaty with wild beasts. Had the dervishes, or even the "Safieh's" people who were drumming up recruits, been granted a fortnight to do it in the Marchand expedition would have been totally destroyed. The "Tewfikieh" arrived in a dust-storm and passed the Sirdar's gunboats unseen, and it was not until she got to Omdurman that the dervish reis and crew realised what had happened. With quick wit the skipper acted, for those who go upon waters are of a catholicity of creed and good-fellowship very different from ordinary landsmen. He ran his craft to the bank, landed with one of his crew and paid a visit to headquarters, where he surrendered himself and his craft. Both were at once accepted, and during the course of the same day the "Tewfikieh" again hoisted the Khedivial flag and was employed in towing and ferry work. The captain and crew stood by their ship working her, and though dressed as dervishes were on the flotilla muster-roll for wages and rations. The like befell the other dervish steamers that came into the Sirdar's hands. For two days there was a sale of the loot captured by the army. Arms, drums, flags, and nearly all the smaller articles found in the arsenal were auctioned. Some £4000 or more of ivory and other merchandise were put aside. On the first day big prices were paid by officers and men for trophies, but the following day spears and swords were sold for trifling sums. The money derived from the sale was set aside for distribution as prize money. All the battalions, batteries, and corps had, however, free gifts of guns, flags, or other trophies for souvenirs. On the afternoon of the 8th September the correspondents and their belongings proceeded on the horribly frowsy, rat-overrun, dervish steamer "Bordein" to Dakhala, the railhead. The steamer was packed upon and below deck with British soldiers, about 50 of whom were sick, whilst several were wounded. Stowed almost like cattle, sitting, squatting, lying anywhere, anyhow, without shade or shelter, we underwent two days of it on board. It was found necessary to tie up occasionally for wood (fuel), and at night the steamer was always moored to the bank. These occasions provided the needed opportunity to prepare and partake of meals, and find space to sleep upon the shore. But it was war-time, and extra roughing-it is always an accompaniment of the game in uncivilised countries. Within a week, thanks to the desert railway and the post-boats, we were back enjoying the delicious flesh-pots of Egypt, first on board Messrs Cook's magnificent Nile steamers, and thereafter in Shepheard's hotel, Cairo.