With the Army in the Field—Wad Hamid to El Hejir.
Wad Hamid was a camp of magnificent distances, restful to the eyes but distressful to the feet. The soil was rich loam, and at no remote date had been mostly under cultivation. There were several pretty clumps of dhoum palms, and a few scraggy mimosa by the river's margin. Of tree-shade for the troops there was practically none. Much of the thorny bush had been cut to form a zereba. In fact, there were two zerebas, the British division having a dividing line between their quarters and those of the Khedivial force. There was also a semblance of cleared roadways about the camp, but the ground was too spacious to be easily made snug and tidy. Wad Hamid camp was quite five miles nearer to Omdurman than Wad Habeshi. We were within the long stretch known as the Shabluka or Sixth Cataract. For 15 miles or thereabouts the Nile pours in deep, strong flood through a narrow valley, which in places contracts to a gorge or cañon. The channel is studded with islets and rocks, and at one point the river races through a wedge-shaped cleft, apparently little more than 100 yards in width.
After my long ride in from Metemmeh I had to let my horse rest for two days. So until my servants arrived with my spare led horses I had to go about afoot. My camels and baggage were with the column. It was more of a hardship tramping from place to place in the hot dusty camp than roughing it upon the bare ground and living upon scratch and scrappy meals of biscuit, "bully beef," and sardines, till my men came in, put up my tent, and cooked my food. The British division was at the south end of the long rectangular encampment. An interval of a mile or more separated the divisional headquarters, whilst some of the battalions had their lines 2 miles apart. Beyond all, another 2 miles off, was the camel corps bivouacking by the rocks and foothills of the Shabluka range. Their only shade from the noon-day glare was such as they could get behind detached black granitic boulders and blocks. Wad Hamid camp, viewed not too closely, was a pleasing picture set in a background of dark hills with a bordering of wide tawny river flowing in front. There were a good many tents in the British lines, but relatively few in the Khedivial, for there fellaheen and Soudani had sheltered themselves as usual under palm leaf and grass huts, or beneath their brown soldier blankets. It was one of the clever campaigning dodges recently taught the native soldiers by our officers, to attach loops of twine or tape along the edges of their spare blankets, so that these coverings could be quickly laced together and spread over light bamboos or sticks, forming very comfortable quarters. The Sirdar's headquarters tents were always distinguishable by the big waving Egyptian flag, a crescent and star on a red ground, and near it a bigger "drapeau rouge" flaunted the talismanic lettering—"Intelligence Headquarters." Before Major-General Gatacre's divisional headquarters flapped Britain's emblem, a full-sized Union Jack. Major-General A. Hunter's tent had an Egyptian flag dangling from a native spear, and the Brigade-Commanders all had their respective colours planted before their quarters. Colonel H. A. Macdonald, "Fighting Mac," had a characteristic brigade banner, readily distinguishable. It was an ensign made up of four squares or blocks of different colours, the colours of the respective battalions of the command. To descend to particulars, besides the Sirdar's and the Generals' flags, there were battalion and company colours, and hospital, artillery, engineer, and various other flags. In the Khedivial army the battalions were known by numerals from 1 to 18. The Arabic numeral of each native battalion was worn by the men on their tall fezes and the khaki covers for the head-gear. It was found necessary to devise a head-covering to shield the men from sunstroke. That worn over the fez could be so adjusted as to afford shade for the nape of the neck, and in front a scoop for the eyes, so that the article became transmogrified into something between a kepi and a helmet. The British "Tommies'" khaki helmet-covers were ornamented with coloured cotton patches and regimental badges. Of course the object of the patches was to enable officers and men to identify easily their respective commands. The Rifles wore a square dark green patch, which the Soudan sun bleached to a pea green. The Lancashire Fusiliers wore a yellow square patch, and the Northumberland Fusiliers a red diagonal band round the helmet. As for the Grenadier Guards their insignia was a jaunty red and blue rosette. In Wauchope's brigade the Lincolns sported a plain square white patch, the Warwicks a red square, the Seaforths a white plume, nicknamed the "duck's tuft," and the Camerons a "true blue" square patch.
The rapid thrusting forward of his whole army from Darmali and Dakhala within a period of ten days was not the least astonishing and brilliant strategical feat achieved by the Sirdar. In that space of time troops, stores, and all the impedimenta for an army of 25,000 men had been moved forward about 150 miles in an enemy's country. No doubt he knew his foe; he certainly always had them under the closest observation. For that reason the Sirdar was able to do things, and did do them, that other Generals would have blundered over. The great river before the camp, with its flotilla of gunboats, looking like American river-steamers, the forest of masts, the lofty poles of the lateen-rigged giassas, and the abundance of commodious barges gave a broad hint how the transport of so many men and so much material had been so smartly effected. Provisions, forage, ammunition, all on the most liberal scale, he had got together. With the troops there were to be carried supplies for fifteen days, and enough to last as long again were to be accumulated upon Royan Island at the south end of the Sixth Cataract. Placing the reserve supplies and base hospitals upon islands meant that both would be safe from any raiding dervishes. Beyond Wad Hamid everybody was to move in the lightest possible order. Officers had to limit their baggage, so that it should not weigh more than 60 lbs., and the men were to march in the lightest of kits. Camel transport was cut down, and all animals not absolutely necessary were to be left behind. For the conveyance of the baggage of each British battalion 32 camels were allowed. All the men's heavy baggage, overcoats, knapsacks, kit bags were sent on by river transport in native craft. A blanket a-piece was what the men had, and that was carried for them by the baggage camels. Quite enough for any European to carry in the Soudan in August were his clothes, rifle, accoutrements, and 100 rounds of ball cartridge. The native battalions had assigned to each command 39 to 42 camels, as well as two giassas or nuggars. These carried all the regimental belongings, and also most of the men's things, for the Khedivial troops never marched with kits, blankets, or any encumbrances upon them. Clad in comfortable knitted jerseys, with breeches, putties, and good serviceable high-lows, the men of the native regiments stride freely along, each bearing only rifle, bayonet, and ammunition.
The massing of the forces at Wad Hamid was all but complete. Part of the Rifle Brigade, detained on the river by storms and contrary head winds, were the only absentees. On the opposite bank of the Nile had been mustered the mixed body of friendly natives, who, accompanied and supported by a gunboat, were to clear that side of the dervishes when the Sirdar advanced. It was known that they would have to deal with, probably, 1000 Mahdists under Zeki Osman. Our allies included Ababdeh, Bisharin, Jaalin, Shaggieh, Shukrieh, Aburin, and other tribesmen led nominally by Abdul Azim, the brave Ababdeh Sheikh. They were armed with Remington rifles, but carried in addition their own swords and spears. That they might be better led and prove to be of real value, Major Stuart-Wortley, with Lieut. Charles Wood as his A.D.C., was sent across to take the command. Wortley was received with every demonstration of heartiness by the Sheikhs, who placed themselves and their followers entirely under that able officer's orders. The friendlies were most enthusiastic and eagerly asked to be led against their dervish enemies. As these allies and the Sirdar's forces were to march by the river's margin when possible, signalling would be nearly always practicable between them. Telegraphic communication was opened to Wad Hamid from Dakhala by Captain Manifold, R.E., and his sappers almost as soon as the troops got into camp. With much hard work the line had been put upon poles as far south as Nasri. When the army subsequently advanced, as poles were not readily procurable the bare iron telegraphic wire was laid upon the ground. In the crisp, hot atmosphere of the Soudan, as there is little leakage, long distances can be worked through an unprotected wire laid upon the desert. When there were rain-storms of course telegraphic communication over such lines became impossible.
On 23rd August, the day following my arrival at Wad Hamid, the Sirdar held a great review of his army. At 6 o'clock in the morning the force was paraded upon the open desert a mile and half inland from the Nile. Réveille had been at an hour before sunrise. It was a pleasant morning, for a fresh breeze was blowing, and the air was agreeably cool. Several of the younger soldiers, however, succumbed to the effects of the tropical sun during the few hours the troops were kept employed, and they had to be carried back to camp. Although the cavalry, with part of the artillery and Maxims, did not parade, there was a big enough force upon the ground to make an imposing display. The army was drawn up in line with a front over a mile in length. Major-General Gatacre's division was upon the left, with the Grenadier Guards forming his right. The Queen's soldiers were ranged in mass of companies, column of fours right, whilst the native soldiery were brigaded in line, Macdonald upon the extreme right, with Collinson's brigade in reserve. The troops wheeled into column, deployed, changed front, and engaged in firing exercise. As might have been expected, there was more celerity and accuracy in changing formation displayed by the British than in the native brigades. All the men were very keen at their work, the expectation of being about to engage the enemy doubtless lending special interest to their field-day. The camp, as all camps ever were, was full of strange yarns—"shaves" about what was going on at Omdurman, and the Khalifa's intentions. "Abdullah would fight? No, he would run away; he was laying down mines in the Nile to blow up our gunboats. A Tunisian had devised a torpedo, but as it was being lowered from a dervish boat, the machine exploded, and the engineer was hoisted with his own petard." Then there were stories of extraordinary discoveries of precious minerals—gold mines by the score. Two young officers, who wished some fun with a distinguished military gentleman not unconnected with South Africa, persisted in finding diamonds, pieces of rock-crystal, which, with an air of mystery and importance, they submitted to his contemptuous inspection. But a Major had the better of the expert on one occasion. He vowed he had found diamonds, genuine diamonds, upon the open desert, as good as any in South Africa or anywhere else; that he would be sworn to forfeit £50 if the expert did not endorse his judgment. He had picked up in one small spot no less than five. Burning with impatience to see these precious jewels, the expert begged for just one peep at them. The Major gratified him with some feigned reluctance; produced a "five of diamonds," a castaway from some "Tommy's" pack of cards.
On the night of the 23rd of August Wad Hamid camp was swept by a fierce storm of wind and rain. The temperature dropped 22°, and it became positively chilly. As we were within the rainy belt, which extends up to 17° North, visitations of that sort during the summer were to be expected. The troops bore the discomfort of cold and wet clothes uncomplainingly, waiting for daybreak, and the tardy sun, to get dry and warm. Bugle calls were a work of supererogation on the morning of Wednesday, 24th August, everybody having been astir long before réveille. It had been given out in general orders—one of those gracious niceties of military courtesy never exhibited to the correspondents in these later Soudan campaigns—that the Khedivial troops were to proceed that day to the south of Shabluka Cataract. The journey thither was to be made by the army in two stages, and the British division was to follow on Thursday. Wad Bishari, about half-way, was the first portion, and there the men were to bivouac one night. Next day they were to complete the distance, making a détour to avoid the rough hills of Shabluka, and going into a new camp laid out at El Hejir. At 5 a.m. Macdonald's and Lewis's brigades paraded, and under the command of Major-General Hunter, stepped off. So the end at last began to loom in sight. Major-General Gatacre wished to go part of the way the same day, in order to reduce the distance to be marched, but the Sirdar put his veto thereon, observing that if the "Tommies" could not do a little march of 13 miles, they could not walk any distance. In the afternoon, at 4 o'clock, the remainder of the Khedivial division—Maxwell's and Collinson's brigades—set out for Wad Bishari to join their comrades. The men were in fine spirits as they left, cheering and singing to the strains of their bands as they gaily marched away. Some of the Egyptian soldiers were told off to remain at the worst places of the Cataract to assist in towing the native craft through the rapids.
The bugles called the men of Lyttelton's brigade to duty at 3 a.m. on Thursday, the 25th of August. I cannot say that the call awoke them from slumber, for all night there had been most disturbing noises coming from the riverside, where native soldiers were reloading giassas with stores going forward to Royan Island, for that new depôt. Royan occupies a position at the south gateway of Shabluka. It is a finely conspicuous island, for upon the north end there is a lofty barn-roofed jebel or hill. From the summit of Jebel Royan, at an altitude of 600 feet, can be seen 40 miles away the outlines of Omdurman and Khartoum—that is in the morning or evening, when the distorting freaks of the mirage are not in evidence. The steamboat skippers who had ten-horse power steam sirens, used them, after the manner of their kind, and made night doubly hideous. At 3 a.m. began our orchestra in the 2nd British brigade lines. All the camels, horses and mules had to be watered and fed. The cheerful camels then had to be loaded, that operation being carried on as usual with a terrible grunting chorus, all the brutes taking part. The gunboats got off before daylight. At five o'clock sharp, ere it was full daylight, Lyttelton's men started, marching off in three parallel columns, each battalion having its own advance guard. Four Maxims were with the brigade. Behind the infantry was part of the Egyptian transport train. The Sirdar inspected the column, and saw them started fairly on the way to Wad Bishari. Major-General Gatacre, as usual, rode out with them to the bivouac, and then galloped back to camp. The troops were in great glee at setting off. The men marched briskly, their officers tramping beside them. On the whole, the track was tolerable, mostly compact sand and gravel. In some places, however, it was rough and full of loose stones, and the sand lay deep and soft in several khors and wadies that had to be crossed. The worst bit was in the second day's march into El Hejir, where a détour had to be made to avoid the Shabluka Hills.
At 5 in the afternoon of the 25th of August the 1st British brigade, Major-General Wauchope's men, also left for El Hejir viâ Bishari. The "Rifles" or, rather, half the battalion, marched with them. Owing to various causes, the "Rifles" were not all assembled with the British division until the army reached El Hejir. In the end, the second half of the battalion of that crack corps was transported by water direct to El Hejir. They had quite a grievous mishap at Wad Hamid. The upper part of a barge, on which many of the men's kits and coats were stored, collapsed, and most of the articles fell into the river and were lost. Wauchope's brigade marched forward in five parallel columns, with intervals for deploying between each. The men turned towards the west to get clear of the cultivable belt, for the track afforded easier going along the margin of the desert. Behind the brigade, protected by the usual rear-guard, were six Maxims, the medica corps, a transport column, and a numerous following of native servants riding on heavily laden donkeys. The battalion bands played favourite regimental tunes as the men marched away. The pipers of the Camerons gave the "Earl of Mansfield," whilst, with fifes and drums, the Seaforths' pipers skirled "Black Donald of Balloch." News was heliographed into Wad Hamid headquarters before we left that the gunboats had seized Royan Island and established a post there, the natives not disputing possession.
By the end of that week, 27th August, Wad Hamid camp was evacuated. Nasri Island, however, was retained as a depôt, and a small force was left there. On Friday, the 26th of August, after a great fantasia and war-dance, Stuart Wortley's column of armed friendlies moved south. That evening they encountered and drove back a small body of dervish horsemen. On our side of the Nile, part of the cavalry had been scouting up to 10 miles south of El Hejir. Captain Haig, with a squadron of Egyptian horse, fell in with a small body of Baggara under Sheikh Yunis, and had a brush with them, one or two being wounded on either side. The Sirdar and headquarters embarked at 9 a.m., 27th August, on the gunboat "Fatah," to steam through Shabluka. I left Wad Hamid the same day with one servant, rode through to El Hejir, 22 miles, and arrived in the afternoon, having ridden out of my way to see the narrower gorges of the Cataract. The spaciousness of the previous camp was conspicuously absent at El Hejir. In rather thick bush and on partly overflowed alluvial ground, the lines were drawn closely together. As the river kept rising, it soon became difficult, without making a considerable détour, to pass from one part to another of the ground by the water's margin.
El Hejir to Um Terif—Incidents and Accidents.
Your Arab is picturesque but poisonous: a fine specimen of a man, though his usefulness in the economy of things is not apparent, at least upon the surface. He dislikes steady, hard work, is a dreamer with a deeply religious tinge, but all the same cruel and remorseless in the pursuit of any object. We were well into the region that he had ruled and ruined: a country capable of easily producing wealth, charred and laid waste. The indigenous negro, on the other hand, is not averse to toil,—nay, generally delights in it under normal conditions,—is simple in his tastes, true in his conduct according to his lights, and readily turned to better things. Your Arab seems to be the reverse of all that, and yet he is a delightful person in his way, though a belated savage. Burned villages, blackened hearths, destruction on every hand, these were the telltale evidences before our eyes of what the Khalifa and his hordes had achieved. Behind all that there were the ruins of a great and long departed civilisation that the early flood of Arab invasion doubtless did something to destroy. Once again, as in the Atbara campaign, was the army closely followed by bands of the faithful wives of the black soldiers. These women as aforetime pitched their camp ordinarily half a mile or so in rear of the men's, choosing broken ground and thick bush through which they could escape if attacked by dervish raiders. In rude huts and shelters built with their own hands amid the thorny mimosa and dhoum palms, they washed, ground corn, made bread, cooked food, patched and mended, and waited upon their uxorious soldier lords. "If handsome were what handsome does," these negresses would have been beautiful, but they were very far from it, poor creatures, except as I hope in the eyes of their husbands. Talk of the cares of a young family, not even that vexed their stout hearts and merry natures nor made them lag in marching to war with their spouses. Alas! even the pains and toils of maternity were fought down by young negro mothers, and I had my attention called more than once to women with almost new-born babies in their arms trudging along to keep up with the army. In such cases the women and men generously did all in their power to lighten the burden of the new mothers. Their household goods were borne upon other already overloaded backs, and if a donkey was procurable the mother and child were set to ride upon its back.
El Hejir camp was fenced about with a stout hedge of cut mimosa. Besides that there were several smaller zerebas enclosing different commands and several of the headquarters. There was plenty of halfa grass for grazing and an abundance of mimosa for firewood for the men's cooking pots and the steamers' boilers. Roads had been laid out, and troughs of mud were built, at which the horses and camels were watered, for the river's bank was unsafe. The site of the camp was not unattractive. In front the great river was dotted with luxuriant islands. On the left hand rose Jebel Royan, a Bass-rock-like hill rising from Royan island around which the Nile flowed like a sea. Again the Khedivial division had sheltered itself in straw huts, tukals and under blanket shelters. The British soldier had a few tents and much uncovered ground at his disposal for bivouac. It may be added that the health and general spirits of the army were splendid.
At El Hejir the press correspondents, or at any rate those representing the big dailies, except the Times, discovered they had a grievance. The news agencies shared that feeling with their colleagues. Even into war the affairs of business life obtrude. It is not an unmixed evil to have a grievance; trouble and ridicule come of having too many at the same time. I drafted a letter to Colonel Wingate on the subject—a sort of "Round Robin" which the majority of the correspondents signed, after which it was given to that gentleman, who stood in a sort of god-fatherly position to us. A form of telegram was also written and handed him for his visé, that it might be forwarded, though in somewhat slightly altered phraseology, to each of our journals. These papers explain themselves, and as they have never seen the light and the incident is as yet one of the unrecorded events of the campaign, I append them:—
"(Cablegram) Daily Telegraph, London.
"Matter-Notoriety, Times has two correspondents here although one, Howard, ostensibly represents New York Herald, but all his messages are addressed Times, London, where read. I suggest your getting World or other American newspaper, which would give advantage additional correspondent. Recollect all telegrams are despatched in sections of 200 words. Times therefore gets 400 words messages. Correspondents have lodged formal complaint.
"Burleigh.
"El Hejir."
The following is a copy of the letter handed in:—
"28th August, 1898,
"El Hejir Camp.
"Sir,—It has been a matter of notoriety for some days that the London Times has two correspondents with the Sirdar's army, Colonel F. Rhodes and the Hon. Hubert Howard. No doubt it may be said that the latter represents the New York Herald to which he is nominally accredited. We are, however, well aware that his dispatches are forwarded directly to the Times Office where it is not over-straining the question to say that they are there read and used. Under the rules, all telegraphic messages must be delivered in sections of 200 words, each correspondent being only permitted to send in rotation that number of words and no more.
"The fact that the Times has practically two representatives to other newspapers' one gives them a manifestly unfair advantage.
"We need scarcely state, that in a campaign of this importance the British public are most keenly interested. Our Editors would have sent out, had not the military regulations precluded their doing so, more than one representative from each newspaper or agency to accompany the army. We respectfully submit that it is our duty to claim equal facilities with the Times, and we ask you to take such action as may be necessary, that our employers shall not be placed at any disadvantage.—Yours respectfully,
"To Colonel Wingate,
"Chief Intelligence Department."
It was a fine way of spending the Sunday, but really we were all too busy to bear the troops company at any of the services that day. Colonel Wingate laid the matter before the Sirdar, who struck with the justice of our plea summoned us all before him, when we stated our case anew. He gave his decision, that the Times correspondents twain should only have the right to send 100 words each by telegram. We disclaimed having any desire to curtail their letter-writing. That did not matter. The affair I am glad to say was conducted throughout with much good feeling, both Colonel Frank Rhodes and Mr Hubert Howard acknowledging the right of our contention, and the affair gave rise to no break in friendship. Colonel F. Rhodes acted very promptly and generously, for before the Sirdar gave his decision he came to us and offered his individual undertaking, that he would decline to send a line by telegraph, leaving to Mr Howard the sole right to wire.
On Saturday the 27th August, whilst the deeply laden stern gunboat "Zafir" with giassas in tow alongside was coming up the river, she suddenly commenced to sink. The water rushed over her fore-deck, and the officers, soldiers and crew were unable to beach her on the east bank before she went down. Indeed there was a scurry to get into the giassas and cut them loose lest they also should be lost. The vessel went down about ten miles north of Shendy, subsiding in water 30 feet deep, and only part of her funnel and upper structure remained visible. With her there was temporarily lost over 70 tons of stores, including much ammunition and many bales of clothing. She had been chosen by Commander Keppel, R.N., as the flag-ship of the flotilla and was rightly regarded by the "Admiral" as a fine vessel. It appeared that through over-loading and rough weather water got into the hold, and within two minutes, or before anything could be done to save her, she sank. Captain Prince Christian Victor was aboard, he having been assigned to duty with the "Admiral," for the craft carried a number of soldiers as well as an ordinary crew. Both the Prince and Commander Keppel had narrow escapes. Providentially, no lives were lost, everybody being picked up by the giassas or managing to scramble ashore. As soon as possible afterwards operations were commenced to recover part of the cargo. The ship was secured from drifting by a hawser being passed around her standing gear, and made fast to stout trees ashore. Then some of the natives dived and several of the Maxims and boxes of ammunition were salved. As for the craft there was nothing to be done under the circumstances but to place a guard and wait until the fall of the Nile enabled her to be unloaded and refloated. Whilst Commander Keppel and his officers and crew were making the best of it, the little ex-dervish steamer "El Tahara" hove in sight with Major-General Rundle and several officers on board. She lent all the assistance possible and then taking in tow the giassas with Prince Christian Victor, Commander Keppel and the rest of the shipwrecked crew, except the guard left behind, the "Tahara" with an extra head of steam, churned up to El Hejir.
I think there had been an intention at headquarters to make a few days' stay at El Hejir, and get the army well in hand before going closer to the enemy. The gunboats began embarking all their ammunition and commenced putting up their extra bullet proof protecting shields. But the Nile persisted in rising and again flooding part of our camp, interposing once more between the British and Egyptian lines a broad arm of water. So again the army was ordered to "move on." Drills and sundry other plans for exercises fell through and special precautions were taken to guard camps and convoys from surprise as the army drew nearer to Omdurman.
On Sunday, 28th August, at 3.40 a.m., the bugles were sounding in the Egyptian portion of El Hejir camp. It was nearly an hour later before réveille went in the British lines and the Lincolns made us think of our sins and forswear all sleep by playing their awakening air, "Old Man Barry." By 5 a.m., Major-General Hunter's division of four brigades, with bands playing, were streaming out of their zereba openings and taking the broad, well-worn tracks across the sand and gravel ridges towards Um Terif. Macdonald's brigade was in the van, and was followed in order by Lewis's, Maxwell's, and Collinson's, with the baggage of each brigade behind the command. The guns were upon the right of the division, the steamers covering the left. As for the cavalry and camelry, spread over a wide front, their duty was to search for the enemy and make sure the troops should have ample warning of the approach of any dervishes. The two military attachés, Major Calderari, Italian, and Captain Von Tiedmann, German, rode on with the native troops. It was a cool morning and the battalions headed by their bands playing all the while marched as if going to a review. The Soudan soldiers' wives turned out again and mustered along the line of route just beyond the camp confines. As the battalions passed them, they shouted and gesticulated to their husbands, calling on them to behave like men and not turn back in battle. Yet probably over half of these same doughty black soldiers had been dervishes before they came over to us. "Victory or death," was the cry of these fiery Amazons to their warrior lovers. He would have been recreant indeed or a marvellously brave man that would have returned to one of them a confessed runaway from battle. It was not surprising that the Sirdar did not object to their presence in the field, and occasionally saw that they were helped with rations when food was not otherwise procurable.
The desertion of El Hejir proceeded apace. In the afternoon of Sunday at four o'clock, when the fierce heat of day had declined, Major-General Gatacre's division in its turn marched off to Um Terif. The brigades moved onward in parallel columns, with the artillery in the interval and the 21st Lancers covering the front, flanks and rear of the infantry. Tommy was jubilant and carolled, as he tramped, topical songs and patriotic ditties. He heeded not the boisterous south wind that ladened the atmosphere with dust till there was darkness as of a city fog. Battle-day and settling of old scores was near, and withal the end of the campaign, so he pounded along. It was a rough tramp by the light of a growing moon. About 9 p.m. they reached their camping and were assigned their usual position, facing south, the side nearest the enemy. There was necessarily some delay as the battalions were being told off to their assigned limits where each had to pass the night ready to spring to arms. Detachments were detailed to cut bush and form a zereba, whilst others attended to the indispensable culinary department.
Each day our cavalry had seen slowly retiring before them a few of the mounted dervish patrols. Nearing Um Terif, the enemy's scouts became more numerous and inquisitive. Whilst a company of the Lancashire Fusiliers stood on guard during the making of the zereba the infantry had their first encounter with a dervish. From the desert there came a rush and rattling over the gravel and loose stones, as from a stampeded horse or mule. It was coming in their direction but neither sentry nor main body thought of challenging. In an instant a mounted Baggara dashed past the sentries and ran plump against a corner of the company bowling over two or three men. Whether it was a deliberate madcap charge, or the fellow was bolting from the other battalions and lost his way is never likely to be known. Possibly he did not anticipate finding British troops three-quarters of a mile from the river. At any rate he dropped or threw his spear wildly, then, wheeling about, galloped back into darkness almost before the fact that he was an enemy had been realised. The men's rifles were unloaded, so the dervish was not fired upon. And had they been loaded, under the circumstances even then the officer, as he informed me, would have hesitated to shoot, lest he should unnecessarily alarm the whole camp. The spear left behind by the dervish horseman was one of the lighter barbed-edge kind.
Um Terif camp was not a pleasant location. There was overflowed land between the troops and the river, and the ground we had to bivouac upon was rough. On Monday morning, the 29th August, before full dawn, four squadrons of Egyptian horse and four companies of Tudway's Camel Corps proceeded on a reconnaissance towards the Kerreri. The twin-screw gunboat "Melik" also steamed up the river a few miles, but neither quest resulted in adding much to the information already possessed as to the Khalifa's intentions and exact whereabouts. Whether or not we were to have our first battle at Kerreri none knew. The fact was that during the night there had been a violent thunderstorm accompanied by wind and rain. Daylight came with a cessation of rain but the gale blew steadily from the south, raising quite a sea on the Nile and a fog of sand and dust on land. It was impossible to see or move any distance with security, and that was no doubt the cause why the reconnaissances in both instances drew blank.
Formal councils of war were rare events during the campaign. A chat with his officers, the eliciting of their opinions off-hand and a watchful pair of eyes in every direction early and late, was enough for the Sirdar. The delays caused by the storms however were becoming embarrassing, and it was certain the men's health would suffer if they were compelled to linger much longer en route. Still it was well to be quite ready before pushing in to attack the Khalifa whose large army, it was reported, would fight desperately. At a council of war held on Monday, August 29th, at which all the Generals, including the Brigadiers, were present, it was decided to remain until the next day in Um Terif. The flotilla had been unable to concentrate in time, the strong current and head wind making most of the vessels unduly late in arriving from El Hejir. A piece of good news came to us from the friendlies over the river. They were wont to march abreast with us, moving up the east bank. We could usually see them across the half mile or more of water that intervened, streaming along in their conspicuous garments under the mimosa and palms, or treading through the bush and long grass. On their way to their encampment opposite they had fallen in with a small band of dervishes who were busily looting a village. The natives of the place had offended the Khalifa by absenting themselves from Omdurman, and so were being cruelly maltreated. Major Stuart-Wortley's Arabs ran forward and opened a sharp rifle fire upon the raiders, who replied with a few shots and then bolted. A hot pursuit was instituted and five of the dervish footmen were caught. The friendlies also had the luck to capture a dervish sailing boat laden with grain. That evening at sunset, a few Baggara horsemen and footmen were seen upon the nearest hills watching the Sirdar's camp.
It was at Um Terif that the army, with all its equipment, was for the first time got together within the confines of the same encampment. From there also it set out next day in battle array, ready to encounter the Khalifa's full strength. In the clear atmosphere of the early morning and in the late afternoon when the bewildering mirage and dancing haze had vanished, from any knoll could be seen the large village of Kerreri. There the Mahdists had built a strong mud-walled fort by the bank of the Nile. They had besides blocked the road with a military camp big enough to shelter in huts and tukals several thousand men. Information brought us by natives, spies and deserters, was to the effect, that only a small body of dervishes had been left at Kerreri under Emir Yunis for the purpose of observing the movements of our army. Kerreri, which the Arabs pronounce with a prolonged Doric or Northumbrian roll of the r's, as though there were at least a dozen of them in the word, is upon the margin of a belt of rough gravel, stone, and low detached hills that extend to the southward, to Omdurman and beyond. The alluvial strip by the Nile, along which we had marched so many days, gave place to ridges and hummocks of sand, gravel, and rock.
So we waited impatiently at Um Terif for the flotilla with the fifteen days' supplies on board. Meanwhile the axes of an army of soldier wood-choppers were clanging upon the hard timber, which was being felled for firewood. The ruin of agriculture had meant the growth of bush, and there was an abundance of useful mimosa and sunt growing on the alluvial lands by the river.
I ought to reproach myself, but I don't, for not having written of the aggravating southern gale with its accompaniment of drifts of horrid dust and sand as the "terrible khamseen" or sirocco. Travellers' tales about having to bury yourself in the sand, or at least swathe head and body in folds of cloth, in order to avoid being choked with grit, I know. The real thing is bad enough without resorting to poetic or journalistic licence, though some will do that anyhow. It is sufficiently trying to grow hot and perspire so freely that the driving dust, the scavenger drift of chaos and the ages, caught by the moisture, courses down the features and trickles from the hands in so many miniature turbid streamlets. During a dust-storm everybody has the appearance of a toiling hodman. Feminine relations would have wept had they seen and recognised their soldier lads in that sorry state. Even the dashing officers and men of the Grenadier Guards ceased to be objects of admiration, and the War Office would have howled with exquisite torture at sight of their hair and clothes. Speak of wrapping clothes around head or body to keep out the dust? It is sheer nonsense to prate so. Why it is hard enough to gape and gasp and catch a mouthful of sanded breath, without that added worry. There is nothing for it, but to grin and bear it and get through with the swallowing of that proverbial peck of dust in a life-time, as quickly and quietly as possible.
The fighting gunboats or armed flotilla consisted of the "Sultan," Lieutenant Cowan, R.N.; "Sheik," Lieutenant Sparks, R.N.; "Melik," Major Gordon, R.E.; "Fatah," Lieutenant Beatty, R.N.; "Nazir," Lieutenant Hon. Hood, R.N.; "El Hafir" ("El Teb"), Lieutenant Stavely, R.N.; "Tamai," Lieutenant Talbot, R.N.; "Metemmeh," Lieutenant Stevenson, R.E.; and "Abu Klea," Captain Newcombe, R.E. On the loss of the "Zafir," Commander Keppel, R.N., transferred his flag to the "Sultan," one of the new twin-screw gunboats.
Advance to Kerreri—Skirmishing with the Enemy.
"Death and his brother sleep" can only be staved off; they overcome in the end. The tired soldiers dropped into profound slumber, although the night of the 29th August at Um Terif was boisterous and the cruel enemy near. It was one of the real surprises of the campaign, that the Mahdists never really harassed us, or ventured to rush our lines under cover of night, or in the fog of a dust storm. It has often been too hastily assumed that the dervishes never attacked by night. By the Nile and in the Eastern Soudan they repeatedly pushed attacks under cover of darkness, or worried their opponents by persistent sniping,—as for instance at Tamai, before Suakin and Abu Klea. Then again, their final and successful assault upon Khartoum was delivered at dawn. Hicks Pasha's force was hammered early and late. It is all the more strange, therefore, that they left the Sirdar's army severely alone, never practising their familiar harassing tactics and seeking to secure an advantage. Numerous, swift of foot, with spears and swords, the odds would have been much more in their favour had they come down like wolves in the night. It is difficult to say exactly what would have happened, and it is not pleasant to contemplate what might have befallen. In such a conflict the Sirdar's losses would have been great. Could it have been that the Khalifa believed some of the stories set about that our army intended paying him a surprise visit by night, as we did Mahmoud, and so he kept his men in camp quietly waiting for us. The utmost precautions were taken by the Sirdar and his generals to protect the lines. A strong zereba surrounded the camp; sentries were doubled, and active patrols were on the alert all night. The gale continued until after sunset, when heavy rain clouds gathered, obscuring the moonlight. By and by there came on a violent and protracted thunderstorm, accompanied by an almost continuous deluge. There was nothing to be done but to lie fast wrapped in great coat or blanket and await the passing of the hours, wet, chilled, ruminating on all sorts of queer subjects. I managed to undo a corner of my packed tent and under it obtained relative warmth, and dryness in spots.
The persistence of that storm bred despair. It was nearly 8 a.m. on Tuesday the 30th August, when, having drenched us all to the marrow, the rain ceased. The sun, although two hours high, was battling with a fine mist. It was in a perfect downpour of rain at four o'clock in the morning, that réveille had been sounded. And it was in sludge and slush camels and mules were fed and loaded, and horses baited and saddled. By 5.20 a.m. the army was at length on the march out of camp, our faces set towards a village called Merreh, best indicated upon the maps as Seg or Sheikh el Taib, the latter being the name of a low hill. The distance the force was expected to trudge was about eight miles, but the overflowed land put two miles more on. When daylight came we could see Abdul Azim's friendlies upon the opposite side of the Nile. Led by Major Stuart-Wortley, with whom were Lieutenant R. Wood and Captain Buckle, the camels of their column kept pace with ours. Closely skirting the east bank that day, Abdul Azim's warriors had their right supported by one of the gunboats.
With the Sirdar and staff riding at the head of the infantry columns, the army advanced in the formation in which it had been determined to attack the enemy at Kerreri. Once more our mounted troops pushed far ahead, covering a wide stretch of country, the 21st Lancers under Colonel Martin on the left, the Egyptian cavalry under Colonel Broadwood and eight companies of the Camel Corps under Major Tudway on the extreme right. The infantry presented a front of three brigades marching in échelon. A battery of artillery was attached to each infantry brigade except Collinson's brigade. Three battalions were detached from the whole force to guard the baggage and transport which followed in the rear. In front on the left, or nearest the Nile, was Wauchope's brigade. The four British battalions thereof marched side by side in column, the Lincolns upon the right, the Warwicks on the left, with the Seaforths and Camerons between them. To the right of Wauchope's brigade was Maxwell's, and next it Lewis's Khedivial brigades. Behind each of the three leading brigades above named (reading from left to right) were Lyttelton's, Collinson's, and Macdonald's commands. Seen upon the desert the army had the appearance of a huge square with front a mile broad. The day being cloudy, and cooler than usual for the season, General Gatacre and his brigadiers voted at a council to extend the march. That course was adopted, the army keeping on, but with very many brief halts for the brigades to regain their formation. By the extra tramp the troops were enabled to pass beyond the broad margin of thick bush out upon the comparatively open, pebbly, and rocky ground, which sloped to a narrow strip of soft, wet loam fringing the river. About 1 p.m., when still fully one mile north of the hill of Sheikh el Taib, the army halted and a camp was made. Access to the Nile was very difficult, for overflowed, boggy land interposed. Roads, however, were made with cut bush, and the animals were led over them to be watered. During the army's march the Lancers scoured the country far in front. They managed to get into touch with some dervish patrols whilst scouting. The opposing troopers looked at each other from relatively open ground, and standing separated by only a few hundred yards. One Baggara horseman came within 150 yards of our men. The Lancers, keen to engage with steel, did not attempt to fire upon their intrusive foemen, but innocently tried instead to bag them. Several times our troopers advanced to the charge, but the enemy, when the Lancers sought to put hands upon them, were gone. That day the Baggara horsemen were met with in far greater numbers than previously. By instructions, the Lancers rushed one of the many small villages, or groups of native mud-dwellings and beehive straw huts that dotted the sparse bush-land a mile or more inland from the river beyond Sheikh el Taib. Several of the enemy hastened away, and in one of the huts a man in dervish dress was found awaiting the troops. He turned out to be a secret agent of Colonel Wingate's Intelligence Department. The spy in question was a Shaggieh, named Eshanni, and but thirty hours out from Omdurman. I was led to understand that he gave much valuable information as to the position and strength of the Khalifa's force and the state of affairs in Omdurman. We were told that the Khalifa meant to attack us at or near Kerreri. There was an old-time prophecy of the Persian Sheikh Morghani, whose tomb is near Kassala, that the English soldiers would one day fight at Kerreri. Mahomed Achmed and Abdullah had further added to the prediction that there they were to be attacked and defeated by the dervishes under the Khalifa. Kerreri plain, therefore, had become a sort of holy place of pilgrimage to the Mahdists. It was called the "death place of all the infidels," and thither at least once a year repaired the Khalifa and his following to look over the coming battle-ground and render thanks in anticipation for the wholesale slaughter of the unbelievers and the triumph of the true Moslems.
All except those on duty were abed by last post on 30th August at Sheikh el Taib camp. Lights were ordered out, and the camp for a time relapsed into darkness and silence. Headquarters and all other tents had been struck and packed. During the night there was shooting, the crack of the musketry sounding relatively near, but occasioning little annoyance. The bullets were badly aimed if directed against the British quarters. Whether the firing was really meant for "sniping" by the dervishes, or was only a note of warning to their friends of our presence, was not easy to decide with any degree of certainty. There was no big roll of wounded to test the enemy's intent by, and a later incipient alarm caused in another part of the camp in the small hours was possibly all a mistake. One thing the dervishes did do. After the manner of hill-men, they lit beacon fires on the rocky ridges around us to warn the Khalifa of our whereabouts.