Again he writes:—
Dec. 14th, 1884.
“This may be the last letter you will receive from me, for we are on our last legs, owing to the delay of the expedition. However, God rules all, and I know He will rule to His glory and our welfare. I fear that, owing to circumstances, my affairs pecuniarily are not over bright.
Your affectionate brother,
C. G. Gordon.”P.S.—“I am very happy, thank God, and, like Lawrence, ‘I have tried to do my duty.’”
Meanwhile, Gordon is thus hemmed in. General Wolseley and his noble band are on their way to his relief. Many and peculiar are the difficulties of both climate, country, and foes; yet they face them like brave, true Englishmen. The journey from Cairo to Ambukol, a distance of more than one thousand miles, had been traversed without serious opposition. From here, however, as they near Khartoum, now about two hundred and fifty miles, taking the nearest desert route. Lord Wolseley seems here to halt and hesitate, whether it is best to go by the Nile, which, as shown on a map, takes a bend, forming the shape of a letter ‘S’ nearly; or whether to take the shortest cut and risk the opposition that may be expected. He eventually decides that the Camel Corps and a portion of the Infantry shall take the short cut; the desert route to Metemmeh: the rest to go by the Nile. It is evidently Wolseley’s wish to punish the tribes who murdered Stewart, and his companions; so he orders the South Staffordshire, 38th, and the Royal Sussex, 35th, and the Black Watch, 42nd, to advance to Abu Hamed, which lies at the northern bend of the ‘S,’
which the Nile makes between Dongola and Metemmeh.
The Camel Corps are ordered to make a dash across the desert to the same place. Little did our force dream of the difficulties, dangers and deaths that lay before them as they entered upon that desert march. We only indicate some of them. On their march we are told that having nearly reached Abu Klea “we were turning into our zareba, when it was noticed that a group of some two hundred Arabs were on the hills, not far from us. Two shells were sent amongst them, which caused them to retire, but we soon found their sharpshooters had crept to within 1,200 yards of our right flank. Also they began to drop bullets into our midst, which were annoying and destructive. Half a company of Mounted Infantry were told off to drive them away. All officers were to see that the men were at their posts, with bayonets fixed, ready to jump to their feet at the very first alarm. With their overcoats on and their blankets wrapped around them, men lay down on that memorable night. All lights put out, all talking and smoking strictly prohibited. A deadly stillness,
disturbed only by the whizzing or thud of the shot from the enemy’s guns. Colonel Burnaby, who had managed somehow to find a place in the Expedition, expressed his great delight in having arrived in time to engage in what he now saw to be the prospect of a terrible struggle.
He stated, “that he had arrived at that time of life when the two things that interested him most were war and politics; and was just as happy in the desert fighting the Arabs, as he was at home slating an unworthy politician. Here, however, he was, and must face the conflict.” January, 16th, 1885. About 10 p.m. The sentries came rushing into the lines. The officers called out, “stand to your arms men.” The alarm, however, was false—only a feint on the part of the enemy. Still (says the writer), they kept harassing us by a continual dropping of shot from their long rangers. About 7.30 a.m., General Stewart prepared to send out an attacking column, with the object of driving them from the wells, which were now only four or five miles distant. The troops marched out—Mounted Infantry, Royal Artillery with three guns, Guards (this was the Front Face); Right Face—Guards, Royal
Sussex; Left Face—Mounted Infantry, Heavy Cavalry Regiment. The 19th Hussars, under Colonel Barrow, numbering 90 sabres, were sent to left flank to advance along the spur of land on the north of the wady. Their duty was to move forward on a line paralleled with the Square, and prevent the enemy on our left from gaining the high ground across the little wady. A squadron of the 19th, thirty sabres strong, followed the Square, marching by the front right to assist the skirmishers. The Heavies were in charge of Colonel Talbot; the Guards by Colonel Boscowen; the Mounted Infantry by Major Barrow; the Naval Brigade by Lord Charles Beresford; the Royal Sussex by Major Sunderland; the Royal Artillery by Captain Norton; and the Royal Engineers by Major Dorwood. So they marched slowly forward. The progress was like that of some ponderous machine, slow, regular, compact, despite the hail of bullets that came from front, left and right, and ultimately from the rear. Some ten or twelve thousand Arabs it was seen had surrounded the Zareba. There was no retreat; it was “do or die!” About 9.50 a.m., about 5000 of the enemy were seen on the
opposite side of the square, 400 or 500 yards distant, and seemed as if they would make a dash for our square. Dervishes on horseback, and some on foot, marshalled them, standing a few paces in front of the frantic host. With banners fluttering, tom-toms clamouring, and shouts of Allah, they began to move towards our square. The skirmisher’s fire seemed to have no effect; though a few of them fell, they ultimately made a run towards us like the roll of a black surf. Lord Charles Beresford’s superintendence was moved to the left face, rear corner, to be brought into action; for here they seemed to press the attack. Unhappily, before many rounds had been fired, the cartridges stuck and the weapon was useless. Still down came the Arab wave. One terrible rush of swordsmen and spearmen—scarcely any carrying guns—their rifle fire had practically ceased. In wild excitement, their white teeth glistening and the sheen of their brandished weapons flashing like thousands of mirrors; onward they came against us.”
The writer says:—“A volley of shot was sent into them at 150 yards; at least one hundred