The battlefield presented a sickening sight. The effect of the expanding bullet had been most deadly. The bodies of the slain lay closely strewn over acres and acres of ground, which were white with their calico uniforms. Some of the dead lay composedly with their slippers placed under their head for a last pillow; some knelt as if cut short in the middle of prayer; others were found literally torn to pieces by fragments of shells and by Gatling bullets. Mingled with the bodies were some seemingly as dead as the rest, but who sprang up when approached, and with sword or spear rushed at the nearest foe. These had in every case to be bayoneted or shot.
Incidents like those last referred to occurred not only during the search of the battlefield, but also at the period when, the Dervish attacks having been successively repulsed, the advance on Omdurman was resumed. They were taken advantage of to bring charges of cruelty against the Sirdar and his men, which on inquiry proved to be grossly exaggerated in those cases where they were not entirely unfounded.
It was alleged that the Sirdar ordered, or gave it to be understood, that the Dervish wounded were to be massacred; that the troops wantonly killed or wounded unarmed Dervishes when no longer in a position to do injury; that Omdurman was looted for three days after its occupation; that when the Sirdar's force was advancing on the town fire was opened by the gunboats on mixed masses of fugitives, including women and children, in the streets.
To these charges the Sirdar subsequently gave a categorical denial, which, so far as the allegations related to himself personally, was wholly needless.
Captain Adolf von Tiedemann, of the Royal Prussian General Staff, writing on the subject, says:—
"As regards the conduct of Lord Kitchener, I rode on the day of the battle from beginning to end—i.e., from 5.30 a.m. till 9 p.m.—with very short interruptions, in his immediate vicinity, and heard and saw everything ordered or done by him. It would be an insult to Lord Kitchener if I attempted to contradict the insinuations made against him personally; such evident calumnies would never be given credence to for a moment in the mind of any intelligent man possessed of common sense. If the Sirdar had been so bloodthirsty as the writer of the article in question[176] wishes us to believe, he would have found opportunities enough at every step during his entry into Omdurman to gratify his desires, for, after the Khalifa had fled from the town, crowds of unarmed Dervishes rushed towards him, and it would have been easy enough for his escort to have cut them down. Lord Kitchener received them with kindness, and, as every one on his staff can testify, he did all in his power to put a stop to the street fighting which broke out here and there in the town. Putting aside all regard for his personal safety, he, as I saw several times, rode into narrow streets and courtyards, with uplifted hand, calling out to the inhabitants gathered there, 'Amân!' ('Peace!').
"As regards the killing of the wounded on the battlefield, that was a necessary measure which was as regrettable as it was indispensable. After the first attack of the Dervishes had been repulsed, and when the Anglo-Egyptian army was moving off by brigades to its left towards Omdurman, I myself left the staff and rode over a great part of the battlefield, but I registered a mental vow never to do so again. A wounded and apparently defenceless Dervish lying on the ground is much more dangerous than his fellow with a whole skin and arms in his hand rushing against one. One knows perfectly what to expect from the latter, while the apparent helplessness of the former makes one forget the necessary caution and also the fact that a bullet fired by a wounded man makes quite as big a hole as one fired by an unhurt person. During my ride over the battlefield I several times saw Dervishes who had been lying on the ground suddenly rise and fire off their rifles into the ranks of the troops marching near them or who had already passed by them, and for these latter it was simply demanded, as a measure of self-preservation, that they should secure themselves against such attacks by a chain of scouts pushed to the front. It is not only the moral right, but the duty, of the soldier to make use of his arms against an enemy from whom it is to be expected that he will use his weapons to inflict loss on the troops to which he (the soldier) belongs, and the behaviour of the wounded Dervishes was such as to justify this belief. It is quite possible that here and there some wounded enemies may have been shot who had no hostile intentions, and who were only intent on saving their lives, but it is difficult to realize the peaceable intentions of such. To make out a few such isolated instances and accusations of useless cruelty against a whole army appears to me absurd.
"Besides, one heard of a large number of cases in which not only British, but also black, soldiers received and treated their wounded enemies with great kindness, although at times they had but a poor reward for it. I myself saw a man of the 32nd Field Battery giving a wounded Dervish a drink out of his water-bottle, holding up his head the while with his hand, and then leaving a piece of bread, which he took out of his own haversack, on the ground beside him."
It may be admitted that in the heat of the battle some of the enemy were killed whose lives might have been spared, but this is no unusual occurrence in the best-disciplined armies, also that a number of wounded were killed after the fighting was over. But in all or nearly all such cases it appears that these acts were dictated by necessity, on account of the Dervish habit of pretending to be dead, only to make a last and unexpected onslaught on his enemy. Such tactics were common at the battle of Omdurman, and many of the Sirdar's men fell victims in consequence. Mr. Bennett himself related how he saw with his own eyes a "slightly wounded man suddenly rise up and stab no less than seven Egyptian cavalrymen before he was finally despatched." That the troops had to adopt somewhat drastic measures in consequence is likely enough, though what took place was far from being the wanton cruelty and indiscriminate slaughter which was alleged.
That Omdurman was looted for three days was a charge with even less foundation, inasmuch as the morning after the battle the troops were marched out of the town before daylight to a position some miles distant, and from that time until they went down the river they were not permitted to enter the place, except on one occasion, to which reference is made later on. Between the place of bivouac and the town, a line of sentries was established, and through this none but officers were allowed to pass.
The charge that the gunboats fired on the fugitives is, if true, only partially so. The fugitives who fled from the battlefield into Omdurman were naturally shelled as long as they were within range, otherwise time would have been afforded them to organize a fresh resistance, in which case the town could only have been occupied with heavy loss. As regards the women and children, the Sirdar, the day before he directed the gunboats to bombard, sent a warning to the Khalifa to withdraw the women and children. More than one person who visited Omdurman has reported that, although several bodies of men were seen lying about, in no case was the body of a woman or child found.
Another accusation was that no attempt was made either on the day of the fight, or on the following day, to do anything for the wounded Dervishes, who were left without food, surgical assistance, or water. With reference to this, the Sirdar states that, considering the condition of the troops and the means at his disposal, he did everything in his power to relieve suffering amongst the enemy. It must be remembered that the total number of Dervishes wounded was estimated at 16,000. To attempt the medical treatment of anything like that number was manifestly far beyond the capabilities of the field hospitals. Of these, the large hospital established at Khor Shambat administered first aid to the wounded, and passed them on to Omdurman; some were also treated in the smaller field hospitals in the camps; but in Omdurman itself great difficulty was experienced in attempting to administer aid to the large number of wounded, scattered as they were amongst the native houses and huts. To provide for this, an Egyptian doctor, Hassan Effendi Zeki, who had been a prisoner with the Dervishes, formed a hospital in a central position in the town where upwards of 400 of the worst cases were tended, many outpatients coming daily to have their wounds dressed. According to the "Daily News" correspondent, from 6,000 to 7,000 wounded Dervishes were treated in this hospital, to which, according to the same authority, the Sirdar, on entering Omdurman, directed the inhabitants to bring the wounded. It is difficult to see what more could have been done under the circumstances.