Chapter 5
The City of Danger
Gordon arrived with a mere handful of men, making no pretence to be anything more than an escort; nevertheless his entry into Khartoum had all the outward appearance of a triumph. The garrison band and its war-like strains were enough to kindle the enthusiasm of the negroes, and cheers and acclamations were the order of the day. With characteristic coolness and careful orderliness, he instantly set to the work in hand, as was his invariable custom. Every man had his allotted task, and was bound to do it, and do it methodically. The previous friction and small jealousies between Officers ceased as if by magic, discipline and a fine spirit of emulation taking their place.
At the same time, though he acted diplomatically towards the enemy, Gordon indulged no false hopes. He understood perfectly he would have to fight before long, and that no time was to be lost in putting Khartoum in a proper state of defense. Still he suffered no sign of his anxieties to appear, but showed a smiling face to all men, and lost no opportunity of re-affirming his mission to be that of a pacificator.
He dispatched a message to the Malidi, whom he invested with the title of Sultan of Kordofan. Moreover he declared the traffic in human flesh, the capture of slaves and slave-dealing, to be free and lawful, proposing to the Malidi to enter into negotiations, and demanding the release of the European captives he had with him in his camp. He sent him a number of presents,-superb stuffs of Eastern manufacture, as well as magnificent brocades and satins woven expressly by Liberty. But the messenger returned from El-Obayd with a discouraging reply. The Malidi was no fool, and pointed out that he was only being offered what he had already won for himself. He warned Gordon in so many words, that if he wished to save his life, he must immediately surrender at discretion.
Simultaneously with the departure of Gordon's estafet, emissaries left El-Obayd, who dispersed themselves throughout Khartoum, busily fomenting treason amongst its inhabitants. The merchants and chief citizens reproached Gordon with acting for their ruin. Resistance, they urged, could do nothing but exasperate the Dervishes. Better surrender at once, since in any case surrender was inevitable. If only Gordon had brought reinforcements with him! The great man listened to their complaints and prognostications with a kindly and rather enigmatical smile, and told them to hope for the best, admitting at the same time that the town would have to stand a siege.
As for the Malidi, he had pressing reasons for beginning war-like operations at the earliest practicable moment. The huge agglomeration of warriors, with their wives, children, and slaves, the whole immense population he had gathered together round El-Obayd, were suffering from want of water. Loudly they demanded to be led to the waters of the Nile, to set out to the immediate attack of Khartoum! To soothe and distract their attention, he detached an expedition under command of Abu-Anga, the most valiant of his Emirs. Affecting to make light of Gordon, he sent off these considerable forces against the Nubian Highlanders, who had refused to pay the "usher," or tax of one fifth, and had welcomed with sticks and stones the revenue officers the Malidi had sent to collect it.
Meantime Gordon proceeded with the training of his garrison of Egyptians and the strengthening of the city walls. James had no definite duties assigned him, and had plenty of time on his hands. In the main the town, while showing somewhat more animation than usual owing to the continual movement of troops to and from the parade grounds, looked much as usual, and Grace felt no hesitation about consenting to walk out with James.
For some time past, without her vigorous health being seriously affected, she had felt unlike herself. The blazing African sun heated her blood. She experienced sudden and unaccountable paroxysms of exaltation, during which all her sensations were exaggerated abnormally. She had fits of laughing, an uncontrollable laughter that hurt her, during which her throat seemed to be closed, as if she were going to choke. Or else she would start crying, without any apparent reason or any special grief to account for her tears. Yet for hours together the drops would course unceasingly down her cheeks, while her heart swelled miserably in irresistible melancholy. The fit always left her prostrate in a state, of supreme languor, without a thought in her head, or power to stir a limb, legs and arms feeling as if they were broken at the joints.
But on James appearing on the scene, her only sentiment was one of sarcastic irony. Beneath all her politeness, her cordiality and camaraderie, lurked contempt and scorn. She accompanied him all the same in long, wandering expeditions up and down the city, without any idea of danger from him. But one day, while exploring the Negro quarter, suddenly she seized his arm, her nails piercing the light stuff of his coat sleeve and entering the flesh. He looked down at her in amazement, terrified at her ghastly paleness, and followed the direction of her eyes, which were fixed and staring; for some moments she was too much agitated to speak. When finally she recovered her calmness and was able to explain, she laughed and made light of her alarm. The fact is she believed herself to have recognized standing with a group of other natives, the tall Dinka, Aisha the Negress who had escaped and run away.
She was a head taller than the men about her, but Grace allowed she might very possibly have been mistaken, for the head she had seen wore a man's turban. And even supposing it were Aisha, there was nothing to be afraid of. There was no sort of sense in being so nervous.
In the meantime water getting scarcer and scarcer, the Malidi had moved his camp from El-Obayd to Rahad, while Mohammed Abu Girgh, with an imposing force of men, was sent to attack the ramparts of Khartoum. He was not without cannon, guns captured from Hicks Pacha's army. Above all others, the Djaalin were filled with enthusiasm and exultation at the advance. They were Gordon's bitterest enemies, and had never forgotten his former efforts to stop the slave-trade. A war-like tribe they had once been rich and prosperous as the result of traffic in their fellow men; now, ruined for the most part, they dragged out a wretched existence of dire poverty. The Madhi was their only hope.
Grace dressed in black and wearing the regulation white apron, had taken her place at the hospital. When the first wounded man was brought in, she turned pale, and stood an instant hesitating, her eyes lowered and her heart sick with disgust. A dread of blood and pain and suffering held her paralyzed. She was afraid to look, but mastering her nerves, she overcame her aversion and was soon in command of herself once more. The wounded man, an Egyptian fellah, spare and muscular, had had both legs crushed under a mass of masonry thrown down by a shot. Rapidly the surgeon, anxious to attend the others, and without any very elaborate precautions, worked away at the mangled wreck of flesh and bones, that seemed only to hang together by the threads of clotted blood. Two turns of the saw, and the amputation was complete. But he took his time to give Grace her directions, and show her how she should set about dressing the wound. The patient showed keen attention, listening eagerly, for all the world as if he understood English. He was livid, while his glassy eyes told only too well the agonies he suffered, and his clenched teeth gnawed the pipe he had obstinately persisted in pulling at, but which had gone out in spite of him.
Others followed, and before long Grace grew accustomed to her duties and proved herself a capable nurse, working well with a quick, light touch. Soon every bed was occupied, and it became necessary to put down "angarebs," the little string beds in use among the Sudanese. Indeed the native soldiers found themselves more comfortable on these, preferring them to beds of the European pattern. Among the wounded were some who broke down altogether, thinking of mothers and sweethearts, and wept and sobbed unrestrainedly. Others, in a crisis of black despair, would wring their hands and even tear off the dressings from their wounds, and gaze at the flowing blood with wild, savage eyes. Then Grace would seat herself at their bedside, and find soothing words that never failed to bring comfort. Often they grew gentle and affectionate, and would tell her of their homes and lives, details in which she showed the greatest interest. So she made herself obeyed, and a look was enough to ensure their complete docility. Grace would scold them like children, till they gave in, which they invariably did at last.
The life gave her a sensation of gentle pleasure and satisfaction. Especially when looking after a convalescent, every time she observed an improvement, her heart would beat with real delight. Alternately peremptory and persuasive, she made the wounded men do everything she pleased, whereas they remained deaf and contemptuously silent, when their own officers spoke to them. The great difficulty was to keep off the flies. In spite of lumps of camphor and basins of carbolic acid, they flew buzzing everywhere about the wards. The noise they made and the bites they inflicted fevered the patients' sleep, the insects penetrating even under the mosquito curtains. Long rods coated with glue were set up in jars full of earth, and proved good fly-catchers. For hours at a time Grace used to watch their efforts to extricate themselves, watch them dragging at their tiny legs, imprisoned in the stickiness, waving their wings in vain, and falling back again exhausted. Somehow their agony pleased Grace, as if the pain of these tiny creatures was a set-off against that of suffering humanity. Her heart was filled with joy, and she felt happier than for many a day in the hospital ward, the huge, bare room with its white-washed walls and muslin curtains and the long lines of mosquito nets. She was a mother to her poor wounded boys, always ready to help, and quick to be at their side at the first murmur of complaint, the first sigh of pain.
Yet in spite of all her charity the negro soldiers still inspired her with a disgust and repulsion she reproached herself for feeling. She strove to overcome her repugnance and redoubled her affectionate care, but the feeling was too strong for her. Spite of camphor and phenic acid, the smell of Negro filled the whole place, a combination of dead body, wet dog and close air, and whatever is most fetid and foul and provocative of nausea. Grace was obliged to draw out her smelling salts and take a long breath of them, before returning to the beds, speaking kindly to the patients and washing their sores. But every time she saw blood flowing, she was seized with the same repulsion and terror she had experienced the first day, and which she could only get the better of by dint of an energetic exertion of the will.
The siege dragged on indecisively, and Gordon resolved to try a bold stroke. He made a vigorous sortie, which took the enemy completely by surprise. Abu-Girgeh, who commanded the besiegers, was wounded, and the Egyptian troops made a great massacre of the Dervishes. The siege was raised in all haste, the Malidists retreating in the utmost disorder.
James specially distinguished himself on the occasion, sabring the black fellows with a will and bringing back an
Emir's standard as spoil of war. Yet in Grace's presence all his confidence failed him. All he could do was to gaze at he with humble looks of entreaty, while his voice, when he spoke, was broken, hoarse, and trembling. She smiled complacently, though at the mere thought she might once have been his, her whole flesh shuddered in revolt. Meantime he continued undiscouraged to pay his court tenderly and humbly. He lived at the palace with Gordon; but whenever duty allowed him, he would run over to his Uncle's, where now that fighting was not going on, Grace was more frequently to be found.
At such times Uncle James redoubled his good-natured fun and frolic, and was lavish of chaff and champagne. A great lover of practical jokes, he understood the art of being extremely amusing without offence. He would suddenly turn off the switch of the electric light, leaving the dining-room in utter darkness,-then as suddenly flood it with light. His surprise was extreme, when he found James had never stirred from his place and had made no sort of attempt to kiss Grace. Still he never directly interfered, holding that in love the best advocate is the one who speaks for himself. All the same he considered such procrastination utterly ridiculous; James seemed to be only at the first steps of lovemaking, and to be so shy and circumspect that any further progress appeared out of the question, while Grace wore an air of coquettish light-heartedness, as if quite ready to lend herself to a little flirtation, provided always nothing serious was to come of it. Uncle Dick however still stuck firmly to his notion that Grace was more deeply in love with his nephew than ever; only the devil take him! nothing would induce him to speak out. He sighed to think James was such a timid, shilly-shally lover!
Meantime the Malidi was busy at Rahad preparing his revenge. His enormous camp looked like a sea of haystacks, with its crowds of "tokuls," or staw huts roofed with thatch. Every Friday was Review day. From earliest dawn the war drums were heard beating hoarsely, followed by the harsh tones of the ear-splitting "ombeya," an instrument made of a hollow elephant's tusk, and audible from one end of the camp to the other. Instantly the troops took order under the different banners. The Khalif Abdul-lahi was "Reis-el-Gesh," or Generalissimo. His Division, the "Raya ez Zargha," carried a blue standard. The "Raya el Khadra," or green flags, were commanded by the Khalif Ali Wad Helu, while the red flags, or "Raya el Ashraf," (banner of the nobles) belonged to the Division of the Khalif Mohammed Sherif. Besides this, each individual Emir or Prince had his own special flag. No sooner had the great war drums sounded, accompanied by the melancholy notes of the ombeya, then the Emirs hurried to their posts, and aided by the "Mukkudums," or subordinate officers, marshalled their men in due order. The division of the Raya ez Zargha, its banners flapping in the wind, deployed into line, facing to the east; next the division of the Raya el Khadra took on a position opposite the former, looking therefore West; finally came the Ashraf, front to the North.
Thus the Dervish hordes found themselves drawn up in a vast square, open on one side, ready to acclaim their Prophet, who mounted on a white camel, passed slowly along their front, greeting them with the sacramental phrase, "Allah yebarek Kum!"-May Allah bless you!
Many strange stories passed from mouth to mouth. After each of these reviews held on Friday, the holy day, each of these military displays, which they called "Arda or Tarr," the soldier invariably had some new wonder to repeat. One would declare he had seen the Holy Prophet Mahomet in the flesh, riding alongside the Malidi and conversing familiarly with him. Another would announce he had heard celestial voices, angels chanting, songs of victory, and blessing the "Ansar,"-the Army. Yet others would have it they had noticed clouds, plainly formed out of angels' wings and evidently intended to guard the Malidi's host against the heat of the sun.
The Malidi meantime was doing something else than hold reviews. Berber had been taken by storm, and that place once in the hands of the Dervishes, meant the whole Northern Sudan being in their power, and Gordon's retreat absoluely cut off. At Khartoum the surrender of Berber caused wide-spread terror, though Gordon himself never flinched, confident of eventual success and expecting the speedy arrival of an English army of rescue. But those red coats, how long they were in coming! Steamers were dispatched up stream and down, furrowing the waters of the White Nile and peppering the Malidi's partisans with shot and shell. Confidence was restored, and Gordon succeeded in convincing his Egyptian auxiliaries of the prime necessity of winning the day.
Yet treason was all about him. From the high terrace roof of his Palace, he had been able with his sea glass to see the chiefs he had dispatched against the rebel actually fraternising with the foe. On their return to the city, they were immediately shot. In this way Gordon had made himself fresh enemies out of the friends and partisans of the men he had doomed to death. The whole army of the Malidi was moving on Khartoum by forced marches, and again investing the doomed city. Abu-Anga won the first advantage: pushing forward his trenches between the river bank and the Fort of Ondurman, he forced the best of Gordon's Captains to capitulate. This Abu-Anga was a negro of the Tribe of the Dongolas, the same to which the Malidi himself belonged. He was the son of a liberated slave, and the one of the three Khalifs whom the false Messiah had named as his own successor.
The siege grew closer and closer, and the hardships of garrison more and more atrocious. People were living on preserves, and the starving inhabitants frequently rushed out into the streets to beseech the soldiers to open the gates to the Malidi. Still Gordon kept up a feverish hope; for all its interminable delay, he was convinced the army of rescue was on its way, that the English troops were coming up the Nile. Any moment they might fall, like a thunderclap, on the Dervishes; then he would make a sortie himself, and overwhelm the Malidi in irretrievable disaster. To keep up the spirits of his men, he kept the military bands continually playing, and gave concerts in the gardens of the Residency, to which he invited the population, regardless of the ceaseless thunder of the cannonade.
All the fashionables of Khartoum were crowded under the old lemon-trees and tall sycamores of the Palace gardens, turning in an everlasting round about the kiosque in the centre. Conversation was only interrupted for an instant when the heavy guns boomed. At the moment the orchestra was playing a sentimental air coming originally from the Rhine, but which was so universally popular just then in England that few Englishmen could hear it without the refrain rising to their lips. Uncle Dick, stirred perhaps by some old memory, hummed over tenderly to himself the rather silly and commonplace English version:
"Thou pretty eye, thou lovely star, Thou art so near, and yet so far!"
"Ah! yes!" sighed James, "Thou pretty eye, thou lovery star, thou art so near, and yet my lips can never, never reach thee!"
He had taken Grace by the hand, and went on in a voice that was restrained, yet trembling with emotion:
"Grace! my darling Grace! ... Are you never going to take pity on me?"
She looked astonished; it was the first time he had yet ventured on such a speech. Then she shook her head in a playful, teasing way, feeling an irresistible impulse to coquet, to play with the grief she recognized in the man's voice.
"Now, don't you think Gordon is a real gentleman, down to the smallest details? Evidently it is to raise our courage, he invites us all to this garden party..."
"Grace, I do beseech you, be serious ... Please, answer my question."
"I'm perfectly serious ... Only your question is an indiscreet one."
"Is there any hope?"
"Hope of what?"
"Cruel girl! ... Will you drive a man to despair?"
"But a man who despairs, is not worth calling a man!"
"Speak more plainly. I know we are in the land of the Sphinx, but I am not good at guessing riddles..."
"The Sphinx is dumb!"
"Yes! but you are not. Speak! Tell me what I am to think."
"How should I know?"
"If you don't know now, perhaps you will know soon; so that I can still hope."
"Hope away! Everybody can find in their own heart food enough for their fond dreams."
"It is all a fond dream then, is it?"
"How should I know?"
"Oh! Grace, for pity's sake ... You are so cold, and at the same time so alluring ... You don't realize how cruel your sport is to others."
"Hush!-James. You can't think how this awful country frightens me ... I am afraid of pain, desperately afraid, and I don't want to give anybody pain."
"Well, then! tell me..."
"I have nothing to tell you,-no answer to give you!' "It was all mere flirtation, then?"
"Perhaps so!"