In September, 1883, a large army was organized in command of General Hicks. This new army, of one thousand men, five hundred horses, and fifty-five hundred camels, should have been a match for the irregular troops of the Mahdi. The beginning of operations was auspicious. At Alloba one detachment of Mahdists was dispersed and on the second of November, while marching through a thickly wooded region, General Hicks attacked the rebels and forced them to retreat. But on the fourth of November they suddenly found themselves surrounded by a force over one hundred thousand strong and the heights resounded with the war cry, “Ti sebil Ellah,” the fatalistic invocation presaging destruction.
All efforts were idle. Their heroic courage could not enable them to break through that wall of iron which blocked every possible avenue of escape. On the afternoon of November 7 (1883) the attack was universal, murderous, and desperate. It was no longer a battle, but a massacre. Hicks was killed and all his soldiers with him. Mohammed Achmet collected the heads of the slain and sent them home as trophies. The cause of the prophet apparently was under divine protection. The revolt grew in importance and even the gentlest of the races made common cause with the victor. The fortune of war also favored the rebels in the eastern Soudan.
In Egypt the affairs of the Soudan provinces were regarded as desperate, and its inability to put down such a formidable rebellion was clearly apparent. The English government advised the removal of the government officials and soldiers from the Soudan, which included Emin and his people. It was a heroic undertaking, but one without hope of success. The removal of sixty thousand people through a country in open revolt, swarming with fanatical rebels, without sufficient means of transportation or arrangements for subsistence, was inevitably destined to end in a catastrophe. For this difficult undertaking General Gordon, who had before this rendered important service in the Soudan, was again called upon. He offered himself freely and willingly. His was a nature whose courage increased with each new danger and was never troubled with thoughts of the morrow. At Berber he declared the independence of the Soudan, gave up the administration of Kordofan to the Mahdi, and re-enacted the laws for the suppression of slavery.
On the eighteenth of February, 1884, he arrived at Khartoum and began at once to strengthen its defences. The magic of his name held the rebellion in check. Mohammed Achmet did not dare to resist him by force of arms until he had completely woven the threads of his mysterious plans. Gordon began to hope and devoted his entire attention to the evacuation of the Soudan. But in the east, at Suakim, things were going badly. The government’s troops were routed at El Teb and Sinkat, and Tokar fell. The rebels had the advantage of superior numbers. Thousands fell, but other thousands of the fanatics took their places. Gordon did not find a favorable opportunity to evacuate the Soudan. The English government would have nothing more to do with the matter, but public sentiment forced the premier, Gladstone, to authorize an expedition for the rescue of Gordon. It took a much longer time than was anticipated to organize this force.
The year 1885 was an anxious one for Gordon. Daily and hourly he waited for news of his deliverers. In the meantime the Mahdi invested Khartoum. He knew that the magic of his name and the triumph of his cause would be established by this last decisive test and that he must concentrate all his efforts upon the Nile. The English were everywhere delayed. Time was pressing and delay was dangerous. Two steamers at last were sent to Khartoum under command of Lieutenant Wilson. They came in sight of Khartoum on the twenty-eighth of January, 1885, and were received with a fierce fire of artillery. The city was in possession of the Mahdi. Wilson again sailed down the Nile. Both steamers were wrecked upon rocks in the river and he himself reached the English camp with the sad news.[6]
There were only a few survivors left to tell what happened at Khartoum. At seven o’clock on the morning of the twenty-sixth of January, 1885, there was unexpected alarm and uproar in the city. The air was filled with shouts and the people were rushing about in wild disorder. The plaza, where the governor’s palace stood, resounded with fanatical and insulting outcries. They were calling for Gordon, “the enemy of God.” Violence followed threats. Guns were fired, efforts were made to break down the palace gates, fugitives were murdered. The city was turned into a hell of cruelty and bloodshed. Gordon, the man “without fear and without reproach,” had been betrayed and sold to the enemy by the very men he had befriended and whom he was seeking to help.
At last the great door of the palace opened and a man in simple military uniform, his sword by his side and the distinctions he had earned upon his breast, stepped out. It was Gordon with his arms crossed upon his breast. He stepped back from the crowd and quietly surveyed it. His heroic majesty affected his bloodthirsty enemies and they were silent. It was the last sign of respect paid to the martyr by them. Suddenly a shot was fired and Gordon fell, pierced in the forehead. His head was carried upon a stake to the tent of Mohammed Achmet and his body was thrown into the Nile. A horrible massacre prevailed three days in the city.
Chapter IV
Calm Before the Storm
It is a proof of Emin’s personal honor and importance, as well as of the confidence reposed in him by the negroes and Arabs, that this revolt could spread for a whole year without affecting Hat-el-Estiva more than by disquieting reports. It was natural for the natives to make common cause with the Mahdi, for the Egyptian government had burdened them with heavy taxation. But such was Emin’s high sense of justice, his compassion for the oppressed, and his strict dealing with unfaithful officials or plundering Dongolans that there was no thought of revolt. Here and there, however, he discovered traces of disquiet, but could not find who or what caused it. Meantime he learned that the Mahdi had captured Kordofan. Governor Lupton Pasha was forced by his own people to give up Bahr-el-Ghazal. The enemy was near by. The non-arrival of the steamer increased his embarrassment. The government at Khartoum was in the greatest danger and could be of no help to him and he was greatly incensed at his seeming neglect.
At last treason and revolt began to appear in Emin’s province. The worst thing was the great uncertainty and the daily conflicting rumors. Now it was reported that seven thousand Arabs were approaching and several stations had been lost. On the next day messengers appeared from Bor and Schamlee, very important points, some of whom said that these places had been captured, others that they were all right. The bad news, however, proved to be true. Here and there rebellious Arabs with their servants and slaves were making their way through the country to join the Mahdists at Kordofan. The garrisons of stations again found it necessary to levy upon provisions, whereupon the negroes attacked and killed them. Finally, a fugitive from Kordofan told a strange story. The Mahdi informed his followers that a great commander had come to Khartoum from the north with sixty thousand soldiers. He meant Gordon. Then he showed them three baskets and said in the most ecstatic manner: “In these baskets are the souls of all these strangers. The earth will swallow up twenty thousand of them. Twenty thousand will disappear in the air. The rest will be slain by the Mahdi, the true Prophet.” Emin was encouraged by the first part of the story. That so great an army should be near gave him courage and hope for release.