The Memoirs of Admiral Lord Beresford
slept on deck. Very early in the morning of the 1st February, I was
awakened by a voice hailing the _Safieh_. I ran to the rail, and
there, in the first light of the dawn, was a boat, and Stuart-Wortley's
face was lifted to mine. He climbed aboard.
"Gordon is killed and Khartoum has fallen," he said. Then
Stuart-Wortley told me how Sir Charles Wilson's two steamers were
wrecked, how his force was isolated up the river, and how the Mahdi
might be marching down with his whole triumphant horde armed with all
the guns and rifles of the fallen city.
"Then the soldiers had better run up more wire entanglements and
earthworks as quick as they can. And I wish to God I had those two
steamers!" I said.
I told Stuart-Wortley I would at once proceed to the rescue of Sir
Charles Wilson's party, and sent him on shore to tell the news to
Colonel Boscawen.
How the tidings came to the camp, is related by Lieutenant Douglas
Dawson, who recorded in his diary how one "drew his curtains in the
dead of night and told him" ... (The diary was published in _The
Nineteenth Century_ for November, 1885. I quote from the copy kindly
lent to me by the author):
"_February 1st_. No member of our small force as long as he lives will
ever forget this morning. Just at dawn I was woke by someone outside
our hut calling for Boscawen. I jumped up and went out to see who it
was, and then made {292} out to my surprise Stuart-Wortley, whom we all
thought at Khartoum.
"I looked towards the river, expecting in the faint light to see the
steamers, then seeing nothing, and observing by his face that there was
something wrong, I said, 'Why, good heavens! where are the steamers,
what is the news?' He said, 'The very worst.'"
The full story of a very gallant exploit, Sir Charles Wilson's daring
voyage to Khartoum, has been modestly and clearly told in his book,
_From Korti to Khartoum_. The _Bordein_ and the _Talahawiyeh_ towing
the _nuggar_, came to the Shabloka Cataract upon the day (25th January)
after they had started. Here the _Bordein_ stuck; and having been got
off after many hours' work, she ran aground again off Hassan Island
next day, during which the expedition advanced only three miles. On
the afternoon of the 27th, a man appearing on the left bank cried that
Khartoum had fallen and Gordon was slain. No one believed him, because
the air was full of false rumours. The next day, 28th, in the morning,
a man on the right bank cried that Khartoum had fallen and that Gordon
had been killed, two days before. No one believed him. But it was
true. It was on that night that we in Gubat heard the guns firing in
Metemmeh.
By this time, those in the steamers could catch a far glimpse of the
roofs and minarets of Khartoum pencilled upon the blue above the trees
of Tuti Island; and at the same time, a heavy fire was opened from the
battery of Fighiaiha on their right hand. Then they came to Halfiyeh,
where a battery of four guns fired upon them, on their left hand. The
naked black men in the steamers served their guns with a furious zeal,
while the British infantry fired steadily, and so through the smoke the
red flags went on, safely past the point of the long island that ends
opposite to Halfiyeh, the Soudanese ecstatically shrieking defiance and
brandishing their rifles. At Halfiyeh were boats lying, and
Khashm-el-Mus said to Sir Charles Wilson, "Gordon's troops must be
there, as the Mahdi has no boats."
{293}
Then, from the _Bordein_, which was leading, they could see Government
House in Khartoum plain above the trees, but there was no flag flying
from its roof. As they passed between the island on their left hand
and the mainland on the right, two more guns opened, and there began a
heavy rifle-fire from both sides which continued for the rest of the
way. Tuti Island, the upper end of which faces Khartoum, and about
which on either side the Blue Nile stretches an arm to join the White
Nile, was lined with riflemen firing over a dyke. At first Sir Charles
thought them to be Gordon's men, and took the steamer nearer in, when
the fire increased. So, writes Sir Charles, "we went on, old Khashm
protesting it was all up, and predicting terrible disaster to
ourselves. No sooner did we start upwards than we got into such a fire
as I hope never to pass through again in a 'penny steamer.' Two or
more guns opened upon us from Omdurman fort, and three or four from
Khartoum or the upper end of Tuti; the roll of musketry from each side
was continuous; and high above that could be heard the grunting of a
Nordenfelt or a mitrailleuse, and the loud rushing noise of the Krupp
shells..."
They rounded the curve of the island, and there beyond the space of
rushing water torn with shot, and the flash and smoke of bursting
shells, Khartoum rose into full sight; and there, ranged on the sandy
shore beneath the walls, the Mahdi's banners fluttered above the massed
ranks of the dervishes.
All was done. Sir Charles Wilson had fought his way to the end,
determined to go on till he was certain of the fate of the city. Then
he knew; then, and not until then, did he give the order to go about.
At the word, as he relates, the Soudanese, who had lost all they had in
the world, were stricken mute and impotent. Poor old Khashm-el-Mus
wrapped his mantle about his head, crouching in a corner. They ran
down stream through the fire, the Soudanese bravely returning it, the
British infantry steady as ever, and won clear. During four hours they
had {294} been under fire. They ran down some 30 miles, and moored for
the night.
The next day, 29th January, the _Talahawiyeh_ struck on a rock in the
Shabloka Cataract, and must be abandoned. The British were transhipped
to the _Bordein_, the natives bivouacked on an island. Next day the
natives were sent on ahead in the _nuggar_, hitherto towed by the
_Talahawiyeh_, and the _Bordein_ followed. The day after, 31st
January, during the afternoon, the _Bordein_ struck a rock, began to
fill, and was run on shore upon a small island close to the large
Mernat Island. When the accident occurred, Sir Charles Wilson was just
preparing to run at full speed past the fort and battery of Wad
Habeshi, which lay on the left hand some three and a half miles lower
down. Mernat Island lies about 35 miles above Gubat by land, and
nearly 40 by river.
Sir Charles Wilson landed guns, ammunition and stores. At first he
intended to make a night march down on the right bank; but he changed
his plan and decided to remain where he was for the night.
Lieutenant Stuart-Wortley was dispatched to carry the news to Gubat in
one of the two small boats, a felucca. He left at 6.45 p.m., taking a
crew of four English soldiers and eight natives. They were fired at
and missed by the Wad Habeshi fort; and working splendidly, traversed
the 40 miles in a little over eight hours, arriving at Gubat, as
already related, at 3 a.m. on the morning of 1st February.
Stuart-Wortley and his men faced death every mile of the way; and their
voyage deserves to be remembered as a bold, determined and gallant
achievement.
{295}
CHAPTER XXXI
THE SOUDAN WAR (_Continued_)
IX. THE RESCUE
"And while lying near Metemmeh
He went--many a time you know--
Up the river in his steamer,
Dealing havoc on the foe;
And each gallant tar and Jollie
That was with him, fighting there,
Now would follow without question,
Let him lead them, anywhere."
_Songs of the Camel Corps_ (Sergeant H. EAGLE, R.M.C.C.)
[The men used to sing 'Our Navy on the Nile,' of which the above is an
excerpt; but the rest is so complimentary to the author, that he is
obliged to omit it.]
At two o'clock in the afternoon of the 1st February the _Safieh_ left
Gubat to proceed to the rescue of Sir Charles Wilson's force. From the
time the news arrived until we started, we were occupied in getting
wood and stores. With me were Lieutenant E. B. van Koughnet,
Sub-Lieutenant Colin R. Keppel, Surgeon Arthur William May, Chief
Engineer Henry Benbow, Acting-Lieutenant Walter Ingram, Mr. Webber,
boatswain, all of the Royal Navy, Lieutenant R. L. Bower, King's Royal
Rifle Corps, and Lieutenant Stuart-Wortley, who had brought the news of
the disaster. The vessel was manned by picked men from both divisions
of the Naval Brigade, and carried twenty non-commissioned officers and
men, picked shots, of the Mounted Infantry, under the command of
Lieutenant {296} R. L. Bower. The engine-room staff consisted of Chief
Engineer Benbow; two engine-room artificers, Royal Navy, J. T. Garland
and G. Woodman; and one chief stoker, Royal Navy; an Arab or Egyptian
engineer, and six Soudanese stokers. We mounted the two Gardner guns
in echelon on the platform made of railway sleepers and boiler-plate
amidships, and one of the two brass 4-pr. mountain guns was placed in
the turret forward, the other in the turret aft, both turrets being
built of railway sleepers and boiler-plate, with which defences the
ship had been cased above water. The Reis (native pilot) was stationed
inside the barricade protecting the wheel, to guide the helmsman, who
was a bluejacket. The native boats always carry two Reises, one to
look out, the other to steer. Our Reis was mounted upon a box so that
he could see over the barricade. In order to guard against the kind of
accident which had befallen Sir Charles Wilson's steamers, I informed
him that if he took us safely up and down he would be rewarded, but
that upon any indication of treachery he would be shot at once. He was
then handcuffed to a stanchion, and Quartermaster Olden, with a loaded
revolver, was placed at his side. Surgeon-General A. W. May, who very
kindly sent me his recollections of the trip, writes: "A quartermaster
with the nickname of 'Punch' was told off to look after him, and he
stood as grim as death at his side, revolver in hand, quite ready at
the slightest sign of treachery to carry out his orders ... I always
attribute our getting up and down when the river was low and dangerous
to your wise warning of the pilot."
The _Safieh_ was simply a penny steamer in a packing-case. Where the
packing-case was deficient, bullets went through her as through paper,
and a shell would pierce her wooden jacket. The pinch would come when
we sighted the fort at Wad Habeshi, which lay on our right hand,
between us and Mernat Island, where was Sir Charles Wilson's party, and
which was some 36 miles up stream from Gubat.
On 1st February we shoved along at the rate of 2.5 {297} miles an hour,
the most the _Safieh_ could do against the current, stopped to get
wood, and anchored in the stream during the night. It was impossible
to navigate in the dark. The next day was almost entirely occupied in
collecting wood, which was laboriously obtained by dismantling and
cutting up the _sakiehs_, native water-wheels. That evening we arrived
within three or four miles of Wad Habeshi, and again anchored for the
night. After weighing next morning, I assembled the ship's company and
briefly addressed them. I told them that we were in a tight place, but
that we would get out of it; that if we failed to rescue Sir Charles
Wilson, the Mahdi's men would get them and would then come down upon
Gubat; but that we would save Wilson's party. The men were as cheery
and steady as possible.
At 7 a.m. we sighted Wad Habeshi on the starboard hand; and we saw, far
up the river, the trees of Mernat Island, and the tilted hull and
funnel of the stranded _Bordein_.
By 7.30 a.m. we were within 1200 yards of the fort, and I opened fire
with the bow gun. Wad Habeshi was a strong earthwork, with four
embrasures, mounting four guns, and manned, according to
Stuart-Wortley's report, by 5000 riflemen. The only practicable