It may seem that an account of the fall of Khartum is out of place in a volume which deals only with formative events. But this is not so. The example of Gordon's heroism was of itself a great incentive to action for the cause of settled government in that land. For that cause he had given his life, and few Britons were altogether deaf to the mute appeal of that lonely struggle. Then again, the immense increase to the Mahdi's power resulting from the capture of the arsenal of Khartum constituted (as Gordon had prophesied) a serious danger to Egypt. The continued presence of British troops at Wady Haifa, and that alone, saved the valley of the Lower Nile from a desolating flood of savagery. This was a fact recognised by every one at Cairo, even by the ultra-Gallic party. Egypt alone has rarely been able to hold at bay any great downward movement of the tribes of Ethiopia and Nubia; and the danger was never so great as in and after 1885. The Mahdi's proclamations to the faithful now swelled with inconceivable pride. To a wavering sheikh he sent the warning: "If you live long enough you will see the troops of the Mahdi spreading over Europe, Rome, and Constantinople, after which there will be nothing left for you but hell and damnation." The mistiness of the geography was hidden by the vigour of the theology, and all the sceptics of Nubia hastened to accept the new prophet.
But his time of tyranny soon drew to a close. A woman of Khartum, who had been outraged by him or his followers, determined to wreak her vengeance. On June 14, 1885, she succeeded in giving him slow poison, which led him to his death amidst long-drawn agonies eight days later. This ought to have been the death of Mahdism as well, but superstitions die hard in that land of fanatics. The Mahdi's factotum, an able intriguer named Abdullah Taashi, had previously gained from his master a written declaration that he was to be Khalifa after him; he now produced this document, and fortified its influence by describing in great detail a vision in which the ghost of the Mahdi handed him a sacred hair of inestimable worth, and an oblong-shaped light which had come direct from the hands of the true Prophet, who had received it from the hands of the angel Gabriel, to whom it had been entrusted by the Almighty.
This silly story was eagerly believed by the many, the questioning few also finding it well to still their doubts in presence of death or torture. Piety and politics quickly worked hand in hand to found the impostor's authority. A mosque began to rise over the tomb of the Mahdi in his chosen capital, Omdurman; and his successor gained the support and the offerings of the thousands of pilgrims who came to visit that wonder-working shrine. Such was the basis of the new rule, which spread over the valley of the Upper and Middle Nile, and carried terror nearly to the borders of Egypt[407].
There law and order slowly took root under the shadow of the British administration, but Egypt ceased to control the lands south of Wady Halfa. Mr. Gladstone announced that decision in the House of Commons on May 11, 1885; and those who discover traces of the perfidy of Albion even in the vacillations of her policy, maintain that that declaration was made with a view to an eventual annexation of the Sudan by England. Their contention would be still more forcible if they would prove that the Gladstone Ministry deliberately sacrificed Gordon at Khartum in order to increase the Mahdi's power and leave Egypt open to his blows, thereby gaining one more excuse for delaying the long-promised evacuation of the Nile delta by the redcoats. This was the outcome of events; and those who argue backwards should have the courage of their convictions and throw all the facts of the case into their syllogisms.
All who have any knowledge of the trend of British statesmanship in the eighties know perfectly well that the occupation of Egypt was looked on as a serious incubus. The Salisbury Cabinet sought to give effect to the promises of evacuation, and with that aim in view sent Sir Henry Drummond Wolff to Constantinople in the year 1887 for the settlement of details. The year 1890 was ultimately fixed, provided that no danger should accrue to Egypt from such action, and that Great Britain should "retain a treaty-right of intervention if at any time either the internal peace or external security [of Egypt] should be seriously threatened." To this last stipulation the Sultan seemed prepared to agree. Austria, Germany, and Italy notified their complete agreement with it; but France and Russia refused to accept the British offer with this proviso added, and even influenced the Sultan so that he too finally opposed it. Their unfriendly action can only be attributed to a desire of humiliating Great Britain, and of depriving her of any effective influence in the land which, at such loss of blood and treasure to herself, she had saved from anarchy. Their opposition wrecked the proposal, and the whole position therefore remained unchanged. British officials continued to administer Egypt in spite of opposition from the French in all possible details connected with the vital question of finance[408].
Other incidents that occurred during the years intervening between the fall of Gordon and the despatch of Sir Herbert Kitchener's expedition need not detain us here[409]. The causes which led to this new departure will be more fitly considered when we come to notice the Fashoda incident; but we may here remark that they probably arose out of the French and Belgian schemes for the partition of Central Africa. A desire to rescue the Sudan from a cruel and degrading tyranny and to offer a tardy reparation to the memory of Gordon doubtless had some weight with Ministers, as it undoubtedly had with the public. Indeed, it is doubtful whether the vox populi would have allowed the expedition but for these more sentimental considerations. But, in the view of the present writer, the Sudan expedition presents the best instance of foresight, resolve, and able execution that is to be found in the recent annals of Britain.
With the hour had come the man. During the dreary years of the "mark time" policy Colonel Kitchener had gained renown as a determined fighter and able organiser. For some time he acted as governor of Suakim, and showed his powers of command by gaining over some of the neighbouring tribes and planning an attack on Osman Digna which came very near to success. Under him and many other British officers the Egyptians and Sudanese gradually learnt confidence, and broke the spell of invincibility that so long had rested with the Dervish hordes. On all sides the power of the Khalifa was manifestly waning. The powerful Hadendowa tribe, near Suakim, which had given so much trouble in 1883-84, became neutral. On the Nile also the Dervishes lost ground. The Anglo-Egyptian troops wrested from them the post of Sarras, some thirty miles south of Wady Halfa; and the efforts of the fanatics to capture the wells along desert routes far to the east of the river were bloodily repulsed. As long as Sarras, Wady Halfa, and those wells were firmly held, Egypt was safe.
At Gedaref, not very far from Omdurman, the Khalifa sustained a severe check from the Italians (December 1893), who thereupon occupied the town of Kassala. It was not to be for any length of time. In all their enterprises against the warlike Abyssinians they completely failed; and, after sustaining the disastrous defeat of Adowa (March 1, 1896), the whole nation despaired of reaping any benefit from the Hinterland of their colony around Massowah. The new Cabinet at Rome resolved to withdraw from the districts around Kassala. On this news being communicated to the British Ministers, they sent a request to Rome that the evacuation of Kassala might be delayed until Anglo-Egyptian troops could be despatched to occupy that important station. In this way the intended withdrawal of the Italians served to strengthen the resolve of the British Government to help the Khedive in effecting the recovery of the Sudan[410].