Ten Years' Captivity in the Mahdi's Camp 1882-1892

by Josef Ohrwalder; Sir F. R. Wingate

All this was implicitly believed. What wonder then that they should throw themselves into the very thickest of the fight in the sure and certain hope that to die in the Mahdi's cause ensured eternal delights and pleasures! Now all these glorious visions had collapsed like a house of cards, and in the future Mahdiism to live would have to be enforced. From this time forth there was no voluntary seeking to obey, and it was clear that the new Religion was on the wane.

The family and adherents of the Mahdi were at variance with the followers of Khalifa Abdullah, the latter by his immense energy had made himself master of the situation. But the glow and fervour of religious enthusiasm was gone.

The blow of the Mahdi's death almost killed Sherif Mahmud; many of his chiefs and emirs muttered: "See how the Mahdi has deceived us. Had he been the real Mahdi he would not have died in Omdurman. Alas! what thousands of human lives have been sacrificed to this false Mahdi's caprice." Mahmud was at a loss to know what to say and contented himself with murmuring: "Even if the Mahdi be dead, his religion did not die with him; let us therefore fight in the cause of religion."

Nevertheless all obedience and discipline did not disappear, for these men had still their own interests to look after: but it was unfortunate there was no one to place himself at the head of the malcontents and openly declare that the Mahdi was no Mahdi.

Mahmud now returned without delay to El Obeid, and immediately on his arrival he ordered the criers to announce that he required some account of Father Bonomi's escape. He was furious at his flight; he sent for me and asked where he had gone; I simply replied, that he had disappeared one night and that the next morning I could find no trace of him in the hut. If Mahmud had not been so upset by the Mahdi's death, I believe I should have had to pay dearly for his flight. As it was he believed that Bonomi would be seized by the Dervishes in Dongola, and at the same time he sent out spies to try and discover who had assisted him to escape. Suspicion fell on Mohammed Suleiman, who had been our old captain at Delen and who was now the kadi's clerk; he was threatened with a flogging, which he would certainly have received had not his master begged him off.

Mahmud brought with him from Delen the unfortunate Khojur Kakum; this poor man was thrown into chains soon after his arrival, and his hut and the chair which he used for his religious ceremonies were burnt. The Nubas were solemnly abjured to desist from their superstitious beliefs, and Mahmud made a small straw mosque for them in which they were obliged to say prayers; but the Nubas set fire to it, and after Mahmud's departure they named their pigs after the Mahdi's important emirs.

When Kakum was on his way to El Obeid, he had had a bad fall from a bullock, which had injured him internally and made it almost impossible for him to move: he was put into our zariba, and soon after he came I went to see him and found him in a state of profound dejection. He was very pleased to see me, and the tears rolled down his black cheeks; he was so affected he could barely speak, and lost all control over himself. His two wives were sitting near him—one of them, Mea, was a thoroughly good woman, and many a happy hour did I spend playing with her little child of six years old. Kakum gave me coffee, and we talked over the old days at the Mission, then I left him to rest. That same night I was suddenly summoned by Mea, who said that Kakum was seriously ill; I hastened to the hut and found him almost unconscious, and in a few hours he was dead. He was a thoroughly good, sensible man, and had been a faithful friend to the Mission and to the Government. He died in July 1885, and I think he must then have been about fifty-five years of age. His second wife married the Khojur of Sobei, who had also been dragged to El Obeid by Mahmud; but Mea did not marry again. She devoted herself to her little child.

The boy delighted in being with me, and said he always wanted to stay with the Christians; but a month later Mea and her child were allowed to return to Delen. I gave the boy a little shirt, and in return Mea promised to send me some tobacco; and, true to her word, a messenger arrived soon afterwards with that luxury, in return for which I sent her some glass beads.

During his stay at Delen, Mahmud had captured Shirra, one of the renegade Baggara chiefs, and his two sons. This man had formerly been our sworn enemy, and had declared that he would kill every one of us Christians; but when this great chief and his sons came into the zariba they greeted me like lambs, and when, in fun, I recalled to them their former oaths, they admitted that they had been completely deceived, and now that they had not words sufficient to praise the Christians or to curse the Mahdi. It was no little satisfaction to me to find such an entire change of mind and purpose in one who had been our bitterest foe. Thus was justice tardily meted out to us.

Meanwhile Khalifa Abdullah had sent an order from Omdurman to Mahmud, telling him to set out forthwith for Omdurman to swear the Bea'a (or oath of allegiance) to the Mahdi's successor. Mahmud therefore, in August 1885, left El Obeid with a large number of followers.