13. Hassan Bey Abdel Minain, president of the Court of Appeal at Khartoum.
It was possibly a week after entering the prison that Umm es Shole came in to say that she had seen and spoken to Onoor Issa, who had not left |243| Omdurman—the same Onoor whose return I had looked for so anxiously during the time of the transfer of the arsenal from Khartoum, when each day bristled with opportunities for successful flight! Fearing that he might play me false, and hand the notes I had given him to the Khaleefa as an earnest of his loyalty to him, I sent off Umm es Shole, and told her to say that I had a few notes to add to the letters which I had given him. Onoor at once suspected my reasons for sending for them, and replied that he was not pleased with my want of confidence in him, that he had a permit to proceed to Suakin for trade, but, having fallen under suspicion, he had so far been prevented from leaving, though he hoped to be able to leave any day. Upon this I again trusted him, and added the following to my notes, sending them out to him as soon as it was written:—
“News from here (the Saier); Slatin knows Omdurman prison. From the Beit-el-Mal to Morrada along the river are six semicircular forts with flanks; each fort has three guns, but the flanks are loopholed for musketry only. The parapets are of Nile mud, and appear to be three metres thick. Most of the forts are situated close under the high wall. There is a similar fort at the north end of Tuti Island, two more at Halfeyeh, and the same number at Hugra, north of Omdurman. Two batteries near Mukran sweep the White Nile and the arm which skirts Tuti Island, and I have just heard that some one has offered to lay torpedoes in the Nile to blow up the steamers. Slatin knows more about the army than I do; Wad Bessir has come in from Ghizera with about two thousand men. Osman Digna, with a force I have not learned the strength of, is at Halfeyeh. Onoor will tell you all about these troops. Ahmed Fedeel is at Sabalooka (Shabluka), and his strength is better known to you than me. The whole population left here is in the greatest dread of this savage rabble and their rulers, and pray God to deliver them out of their |244| hands, and that you may save them from the fate of the Jaalin. I pray you to keep this letter an absolute secret. There are traitors among your spies” (this remark was confirmed a few weeks later); “if the least inkling of my communications with you reach the Khaleefa’s ears, it will be all over with me. Answer me in German, as no one else here understands the language. It is a mistake to trust any Arab—civilized or uncivilized. Onoor is the only one who has brought me any news. He is the best man to go between us. In expectation of an early reply from you, I subscribe myself yours devotedly, and pray God he may enable me to join you soon. I have been moved from Khartoum to the Omdurman prison only until my house is ready in the Beit-el-Mal.
The Khaleefa has received news that steamers are coming to reconnoitre Khartoum.”
It was not until the end of December that Onoor succeeded in obtaining permission to leave Omdurman; and then hurrying to Suakin, he handed in my notes to the commandant there, returning six months later with his thanks for the information given and money to keep me going. It is passing strange that my trouble in collecting information about the forts, writing to the advancing army, and giving what details I could, should have given those on the way to Omdurman the impression that it was “Neufeld’s forts” which were being knocked to pieces. Even my good friend—that King of War Correspondents—Mr. Bennet Burleigh, was good enough to tell me that he believed I had designed and constructed them. They were all the work, from beginning to end, of Youssef Mansour.
At the time I am speaking of, the prison was filled with suspected sympathizers with the Government; the presence of Ibrahim Pasha Fauzi and |245| Awwad-el-Mardi has already been alluded to. Hogal, who should have accompanied me on the expedition to Kordofan, was also a prisoner; but it was three months before I was able to steal an interview with him—about the time of the anniversary of my capture—and then I learned, at almost the hour of my release, the real history of my capture. Our circle of “Government people” was added to daily; one of the most interesting additions being a party of sixteen or seventeen spies, amongst whom was Worrak from Dongola, Abdalla Mahassi from Derawi, Ajjail from Kassala, and others from Suakin. They had been betrayed by other spies; I have forgotten the names of the traitors, but it is of little moment now, as doubtless the betrayed settled up their accounts on the taking of Omdurman. The betrayer or betrayers were Dongolawi—perhaps the only coterie of thieves on earth who have no honour among themselves.
Whatever may have been the excitement and anxiety in other parts of the world concerning the Sirdar’s advance, we had our share of both in Omdurman. Strange tales had reached us of offers of assistance sent to the Khaleefa to resist the advance of the troops. Shortly before I left Khartoum, a field-gun had arrived from the south as a present for the Khaleefa; it was accompanied by a limited supply of ammunition—brass cartridges carrying a shell in the same way as the rifle carries its bullet. One of the cartridges was sent to the Khartoum arsenal, to see if others could be made like it. Various tales were told concerning its origin; but as the gun must have been taken at the |246| capture of Omdurman, its real history has no doubt been traced.
It was only when I met in prison Ibrahim Wad Hamza of Berber, and Hamed Wad-el-Malek, that I learned from them what had transpired when the King of Abyssinia sent an envoy to the Khaleefa asking his assistance against the Italians. The envoy had been brought to the Khartoum arsenal to inspect it, but I was not allowed to speak to him. An arrangement had been come to by which the Abyssinians were to open up trade routes from Gallabat, and send in so much coffee and other articles of food monthly, in return for the promised assistance of the Khaleefa in attacking the Italians; but the contributions or tribute was paid for a few months only, as another envoy came with offers of assistance against the advancing armies. He was the bearer of a flag which he asked the Khaleefa to fly, as the troops might not fire at it; the conferences, like all conferences between the Khaleefa and strangers, were held privately, but at the end of the last conference, the Khaleefa gave his reply in the presence of the Emirs and others. Handing back the flag, he said, “My mission is a holy and religious one; I trust to God for help and success; I do not want the help of Christians. If ever I required the help of man, the Mohammedan boy Abbas is nearer and better to me,” and with this he waved the envoy and his companions off. The only construction we could place on the concluding sentence, was that the Khaleefa wished every one to understand that, sooner than accept the help of a Christian power, he would |247| surrender to the Khedive, and this meant never, for he was looking forward to the day when he would erect his scaffolds in the Cairo citadel, and haul up the Khedive and “Burrin” (Lord Cromer) as his first victims. To the Soudanese, Lord Cromer, or “Burrin,” as they mispronounced Baring, held the same relation to the Khedive as Yacoub did to the Khaleefa.
From the day Mahmoud started until the arrival of the victorious army in Omdurman, I was pestered with questions day and night; the Mahdists wished to know whether the advancing troops belonged to the sheikh who sent the troops for Gordon in 1884; those against Mahdieh wished to know if they belonged to the other sheikh. From the Arabic papers which found their way to Omdurman, the Soudanese had learned that there were two tribes in England, each led by powerful sheikhs; one, the sheikh of 1884, and the other the sheikh who had said that when he started there would be no coming back until he had “broken up” (smashed) Mahdieh. To the Mahdists, it was the troops who “ran away” who were coming again; to the “Government” people it was immaterial which sheikh was in power; British troops were advancing, and that was enough. At night our circle would sift and discuss all the tales we had heard during the day, and although we were filled with hope, anxiety and fear got the better of us on most occasions.
When Mahmoud was sent off, his instructions were to wait at Metemmeh, and do all in his power to harass the troops as they crossed the river; if strong enough |248| to attack them, he was to do so, but if they were stronger, he was to retire gradually to Kerreri, where an old prophecy had foretold that the great battle was to take place. Mahmoud disobeyed these instructions, and crossed to the east bank, upon which the Khaleefa sent him orders not to remain in a zareeba or trenches, but to attack the infidels in the open. Hardly had the excitement caused by Mahmoud’s defiance of the Khaleefa’s orders died down, when the news came that he had attacked and annihilated the English army. But other news than this followed on its heels; we learned the truth from a band of about thirty-eight blacks wearing the Egyptian uniform. They were dervishes taken at Dongola and Abou Hamad, and drafted into the army. At the Atbara they deserted to the dervishes, but suspected of being spies, they were sent to the Saier. The whole truth came out when Osman Digna came back to Omdurman to report to the Khaleefa.