Hitherto only the precautions usual in ordinary warfare had been taken on the march and in the bivouac, but now that the Royal Irish were well in the enemy’s country and liable to attack at any moment, the formation was adopted which recent experience had proved to be best suited for fighting in the Soudan. Under the immediate escort of one company, successive lines of camels, about forty abreast, lumbered along in a loose column which, if necessary, could be closed up into a solid mass. At one of the front angles of the column of camels were four companies; at the opposite rear angle was the remainder of the battalion, both marching in column or half-column of companies, ready to form square at a moment’s notice. The animals laden with the reserve of ammunition moved behind the leading companies into whose square they were to be received in case of danger; those bearing the rations and the water-skins followed the companies in rear, who were charged with their defence. If the enemy attacked, each square could support the other with flanking fire, and both could rake the ground over which spearmen would have to pass in order to close on the camels with the cold steel. At every halt square was formed, and at night the bivouacs were surrounded with zaribas—walls of stone, boxes of stores, saddles or mimosa bushes, anything, in short, which would serve to break a sudden rush of the Mahdi’s followers.
The column, however, was not attacked, and notwithstanding the cumbrous formation in which the Royal Irish moved they got over the ground fast, and on one occasion marched twenty-four miles in twenty-five hours and a quarter, coming in fairly fresh, alert, and fit for outpost duty. They reached Abu Klea on the morning of the 12th, passing close to the battlefield of January 17, still covered with dead bodies, for though the Mahdists had buried their chiefs, the rank and file remained where they had fallen. Two companies, C and E, were dropped at the wells to strengthen the garrison of the post; the remainder of the battalion, after a few hours’ rest, started for Gubat, where they arrived next day after a march of twenty-one miles, “swinging into bivouac,” as Sir Redvers Buller reported, “as cheerily as if they had been going to a field-day at Aldershot.” The troops of the desert column received the XVIIIth with great enthusiasm, turning out to a man to cheer it into camp. Among them were the soldiers who had accompanied Wilson in his abortive attempt to rescue Gordon from Khartoum, and who had just struggled back to Gubat after a series of adventures, remarkable even in the annals of the British army. In two tiny steamers, manned by natives of very doubtful loyalty, they had laboriously passed through the long and dangerous series of rapids known as the Sixth Cataract, and after running the gauntlet of the enemy’s guns and rifles, had arrived off Khartoum—to find that barely thirty-six hours earlier the town had been captured by the Mahdi, into whose hands Gordon, if he was still alive, had undoubtedly fallen. Wilson realised that his mission had failed, and with a heavy heart ordered his steamers to retire down the river. The retreat was conducted in circumstances as unpropitious as can be imagined; the native crews, excited at the defeat of the Christian General, were almost mutinous; the Soudanese, by far the majority of the fighting men on board, were stupefied by the knowledge that their wives and children were in the Mahdi’s clutches; every hour the dangers of navigation increased, for the Nile was sinking fast, and in one night dropped no less than three feet. But in spite of all difficulties Wilson made good progress down stream until his steamers, one after the other, were wrecked by the treachery of the Arab pilots. Landing his troops on an island he entrenched himself, and succeeded in informing the British at Gubat of his desperate plight. The sailors at once manned one of the river boats and fought their way up the Nile in time to save Wilson and his comrades from the destruction which threatened to overwhelm them.
On his way to Gubat, Buller had received a despatch from Lord Wolseley written after the news of the fall of Khartoum had reached headquarters, but before the rescue of Wilson’s detachment had been reported at Korti. His orders were to ensure the safety of Wilson and his men; to send all sick and wounded back to Korti; to make every preparation for the evacuation of Gubat, and if he considered it necessary, to fall back to Abu Klea or even to Gakdul. When Buller reached Gubat the situation was full of difficulty. Wilson indeed was safe, but within two miles of the bivouac was the strongly built village of Metemmeh, which we had threatened but not seriously attacked. It was held by two thousand of the enemy, almost delirious with joy at their victory at Khartoum; the Intelligence officers had ascertained that three or four thousand Mahdists, well provided with rifles, guns, and ammunition would shortly reinforce Metemmeh, and as there was nothing now to detain the Mahdi before Khartoum, his main army might also have to be reckoned with. The supplies of the desert column were running short: at Gubat there were only rations for twelve days, and the depôt at Abu Klea contained but a similar quantity. Worse than all, the transport was breaking down rapidly; “the camels,” Buller reported, “are emaciated, and their carrying power small. Indeed I do not think we have camels enough to get this force out at one go.” After a few hours’ deliberation he reluctantly decided to retire, and began his preparations, fortunately unhindered by the enemy who circled round the bivouac without attempting to close in upon it. Early on the morning of the 13th of February the sick and wounded were sent off, the convalescents on camels, the worst cases on stretchers carried by Gordon’s Soudanese. The convoy was escorted by part of the camel corps and three companies of the Royal Irish, and when all danger of an attack seemed over, the detachment was ordered to rejoin the main body of the battalion. Just as the three companies reached the bivouac a Hussar orderly dashed into the lines to report that eight or nine miles off the convoy was surrounded by a large number of the enemy, and was in great peril. Colonel Shaw and half a battalion of the XVIIIth hurried off to the rescue, but to their deep disgust did not come into action. The Mahdists had surrounded the convoy on three sides and were pouring in a fairly well directed fire when a detachment of camelry, on the way from Abu Klea to Gubat, suddenly struck the enemy on the flank just as the Royal Irish began to come in sight. The Arabs did not await Shaw’s attack and retired, leaving the convoy free to go on to Abu Klea, which it reached without further incident. Shaw’s half battalion did not accompany the sick, but was ordered back to Gubat, where the troops spent the night in destroying stores which could not be carried away and throwing into the Nile boxes of ammunition for which there was no transport. As day broke on the 14th, the column, 1700 strong, was set in motion. With the exception of a few of the XIXth Hussars whose horses were still serviceable, all arms and all ranks trudged over the desert on foot. The post of honour, the command of the rear-guard, was entrusted to Colonel Shaw, who covered the retreat with the Royal Irish, two guns, a detachment of the XIXth Hussars, and three hundred of Gordon’s Soudanese. A few of the enemy followed, but when Buller halted and offered battle the Mahdists drew off, and by midday on the 15th the column was in bivouac at Abu Klea. The men had not suffered much on the march, though the boots were beginning to fall off their feet, but so many animals had dropped from exhaustion that General Buller was forced to admit that any active operations were entirely out of the question, until the mounted corps were supplied with fresh camels, the transport camels replaced, and the XIXth Hussars completely remounted. There was not forage enough for the surviving animals, and it was evident that the wells could not be relied upon to supply the whole of the troops now concentrated around them. Buller accordingly decided to send back to Gakdul most of the camelry, all spare camels, and nearly all the XIXth Hussars, while with the remainder of his command he awaited instructions at Abu Klea.
The two companies of the XVIIIth detached to garrison the post of Abu Klea now rejoined headquarters, bringing with them a record of excellent service performed in clearing the bush which surrounded the wells, building zaribas, and similar useful though unshowy work. Early on the 16th, the battalion was directed to entrench one of the low hills which encircle the wells; just as the shelter trenches were finished and occupied, and the men were eating a well-earned meal, large numbers of the enemy appeared on ground commanding the defences of the Royal Irish, and opened fire at about 1100 yards’ range. To meet this attack, which enfiladed some of the trenches, fresh works had to be thrown up under continuous and sometimes very heavy musketry. “The Gardner and the screw-guns gave the enemy a little physic,” wrote an officer in his diary, “but the rebels kept it up all night, and we expected an attack at any time. Next morning they began in a desultory sort of way, but a few shells and a strong infantry fire made them lie close. Finally a field-piece of theirs came into action, but its shells fell short and dead. Two of our 7-pounders went out and fired a round or two, and the Mahdists then disappeared. We had an easy night on the 17th, and only regretted two things: one that we had not had a slap at them, the other that we had not received the half pound of bread that was due to us as a ration!” During this prolonged skirmish, in which there were many “close shaves” from the flat-trajectoried Remington rifles used by the enemy, Quartermaster and Honorary Lieutenant Jamieson and thirteen other ranks were wounded.[263] In the column the total casualties were three men killed, four officers and twenty-three other ranks wounded. For the next few days the regiment was very busy cutting down scrub and building redoubts—work with which the enemy’s fire did not materially interfere, as it was delivered from a very respectful distance.
When the untoward news of the fall of Khartoum reached England, the country was profoundly moved. A great cry for vengeance arose, and amidst a whirlwind of telegrams from the Cabinet, Lord Wolseley recast his plans, and proposed that the towns of Abu Hamed and Berber should be captured, and held during the summer as posts to cover an advance in strength up the river in the cool season. Government accepted the idea, and sent an expedition to Suakim to draw off to the shores of the Red Sea part of the enemy who might otherwise attack the troops echeloned along the Nile. But by the middle of February it become evident that Wolseley’s scheme was too ambitious. The river column, though successful in an engagement at Kirbekan, was making slow progress up stream owing to the abnormally “low Nile.” To enable this column to arrive at Berber with its cargo of stores intact, the original plan had provided that it should be fed by convoys across the desert of Korosko, but recent events at Khartoum had roused the fanaticism of the tribesmen to such an extent that it was very improbable this route would long remain open. A large quantity of Earle’s biscuit had proved uneatable; the remainder would only carry the column to Berber and back to Korti, and therefore none could be left to ration the garrison of Berber when that place had been taken. Wolseley thereupon proposed that the Royal Irish and part of the camel corps should strike across the Bayuda desert and fall upon Berber from the westward, but he was forced to abandon this idea when he realised that the transport, without which it was impossible to undertake the expedition to Berber, had completely given out, and that the marching power of the troops was seriously crippled by the condition of their boots.
“In view of all these conditions the Commander-in-Chief felt that he was no longer justified in persevering with the combined movement of the Desert and River columns on Berber, and he was forced, reluctantly, to abandon all hope of taking that place before the autumn. The intention to take Berber being given up, the capture of Abu Hamed became unnecessary; it would only have led to a useless waste of life, and have unnecessarily prolonged the line of river to be defended during the summer months. The retention of the Desert column in its exposed position in the desert was equally without object. A concentration on the Nile became the only course open to Lord Wolseley. Orders were accordingly sent on the 20th February, directing the river column to return ... and at the same time Sir Redvers Buller was directed to return to Korti.”[264]
In obedience to this order the one thousand seven hundred and forty effectives,[265] left to General Buller, made ready to march on the evening of the 23rd of February after an exciting day. About 11 A.M. Captain Morgan, Royal Irish Regiment, from his outpost to the south-east of the bivouac had signalled that masses of the enemy were advancing towards Abu Klea. Later it was reported that the Mahdists, between five and eight thousand strong, had halted two or three miles from the wells. The situation was a serious one, but neither the General nor his men were disturbed at the news: the packing was carefully finished, the convoy of wounded sent off under a strong escort, the wells filled up with thorny scrub and the many saddles for which there were no camels left, and soon after sunset the troops filed away in good order, leaving the Royal Irish to bring up the rear. The camp fires were made up, the usual bugle calls were sounded, and then in groups of twos and threes the men of the XVIIIth silently collected at the appointed place and were formed into a rear-guard. Whether the evacuation of the wells was unnoticed by the enemy, or whether the Mahdists thought it wiser not to attack the retiring column, is not known, but the fact remains that Buller was not seriously molested in his retreat, of which Major-General Burton Forster’s diary gives interesting details. “During the night of the 23rd-24th many camels fell down and were left behind. Halts were numerous, and we had a very hard and awkward march in the dim moonlight through the grass and scrub till 11.30 P.M. The rouse sounded at 4 A.M. (24th) and we started at 5, having come about 9 miles from Abu Klea. We marched till about 9.30, seeing only a few of the enemy’s scouts in the afternoon, and halted about 18 miles from Abu Klea. The vedettes fired at them and they disappeared. We started again at 5 P.M., and marched on till midnight, rested on the 25th till 5 P.M., when we started again, halting at 9.30 P.M. after doing 13 miles. Next morning we started at 6 A.M. and reached Gakdul about noon.... The work has been stiff and hot, especially on a daily ration of three-quarters of a gallon of water!... I think the march of 56 miles in 64 hours is very creditable to Buller’s column.... The men have been in their clothes without changing or washing from the 16th to the 26th, and it has told on them: they are not as fit about the feet as we could wish. Some of the officers succeeded in changing their socks once during the ten days, and were more comfortable in consequence.”
An interesting account of the retreat is given in a letter written from Gakdul on February 27, 1885, by Colonel B. J. C. Doran, C.B., then a subaltern in the first battalion, Royal Irish regiment.
“You will see by the address that we have commenced retracing our steps towards Korti, we arrived here yesterday morning and very thankful we all were to get in. The march back has been so far anything but comfortable, and our march going up was child’s play compared with this retreat, for of course then the regiment was by itself in two detachments and could consequently move pretty quickly having only a small amount of transport to hamper it, but marching with the ‘Desert Column’ as it is called, is quite another thing, besides having a large Hospital of sick and wounded to take care of. We left Abu Klea on the 23rd in two parties; the first consisting of the Hospitals and the whole of the baggage, rations, &c., for the column escorted by some mounted infantry started at 2 P.M. I went with this lot, as I am acting Quartermaster now to the regiment. The second party consisted of all the troops and did not start till 7 P.M.: they had no baggage or transport to hinder them, so of course when they started were able to catch us up, as they did about 8 or 9 miles out of Abu Klea where we halted and where a depôt of water had been left; they got in about 1 A.M. We started off again at daylight and marched till about 10 A.M., when the whole column halted, pretty well done up; the water question all along has been a very difficult affair. We were to rest here until 4 P.M., when we were again to start off, however just as everyone had made themselves as comfortable as is possible on these occasions under a blanket to keep off the sun and were just getting a few winks of sleep, we were startled at hearing heavy firing going on in our rear; it was at some distance but the sound of cannon being fired was quite distinct, everyone was up like a shot, and orders were given to get all baggage loaded ready to move off at once. However, after half an hour’s excitement we desisted, as it was discovered to be only about two men and a boy (natives) amusing themselves—we presume to frighten us—with some gunpowder in cases. To understand the cause of all this alarm, you must know that ever since the night we were potted at the natives still hovered around Abu Klea, and we only moved out just in time. Had we stayed there another day, we should have had a good fight, for just as the column I was with was about to start, from one of the outlying posts on the neighbouring hills it was signalled down that the enemy were seen advancing from Metemmeh direction in thousands; this caused a good deal of excitement; however, after coming within about 2 miles of our advanced posts, they all halted and settled down for the night. Meanwhile the column with sick and wounded got away and were well clear of all the hills and in a fine open desert by the time it was dark, and where we halted, as I said before, we were joined by all the remainder of the garrison that night, they having sneaked out under cover of the dusk. All the wells we filled up and left fires burning so as to deceive the enemy. I don’t suppose they found out we had gone until next morning, and then pretty late, as they would not have approached the place except very cautiously. It was a very nasty place to get out of, as for about six miles the road or track runs in a valley with commanding hills on both sides, and had the enemy made any attempt to hold the ground at the head, where it emerges into the desert, very few of us would have got out without scratches. Once in the desert we did not mind how many came on us, so now you can understand the commotion caused by the firing of cannon, as we thought they must have found out and were following us. This of course was almost impossible, as where they were encamped they had only one or two wells which they must have dug, and they must have wanted water, as they could not have got any since they left the river at Metemmeh, and it would have taken them quite a day to clear out the wells we had filled in at Abu Klea. In the first 24 hours after leaving Abu Klea we had done about 30 miles, not bad going for a column on an allowance of water, in the desert in fact. Everyone had to walk, except the sick and wounded, because all the camels belonging to the camel corps and mounted infantry had to be used for transport and baggage animals. There were only just sufficient to bring us away, and nearly all of them were completely played out before they commenced the march. However, we struggled on somehow, and arrived here more dead than alive. Thank goodness we are getting a day’s rest here, which will enable the men to pull themselves together, get some decent food and plenty of water to drink, and that good. If I had been told a month ago that I should drink as filthy water as I have done, day after day, and been very thankful to get it, I should have laughed! The thickness of pea-soup was considered good: sometimes, if it was thicker, then it might be a little bad, but not to be thrown away. Considering all things, the desert march has been the most trying thing known in a campaign for years. By the time we arrive at Korti, we shall have been away five weeks or more. We shall not have so many difficulties to contend with henceforward, as the next half will be much easier and I doubt the enemy following us beyond this. Everything about movements is kept a State secret here, and we don’t know what is going to happen, except we move out of this to-morrow or next day—they say to Merawi, to help the column gone up the River, but I have my own idea that we are going straight to Korti, though the Colonel told the officers on parade yesterday that after a day’s rest here, we were to move towards Merawi. It will be getting very hot here soon, and if we are to summer out here, it would be advisable to try and build ourselves some sort of shelter. However, I suppose when we get to Korti we shall probably then know what government has settled to do about the Soudan. I am sure if they only saw it, they would have no desire ever to keep such a country!”