Ismailia

My troops in full uniform went out to meet the reinforcements, which quickly marched up and formed on the level turf outside the fort upon the north side.

I rode out and inspected the troops.

NOT ONE HEAD OF CATTLE HAD ARRIVED!

The lieutenant-colonel, Tayib Agha, had made a sad mess of his command during the march. He had quarrelled with Wat-el-Mek; and simply because some of the native carriers had absconded in a portion of the Bari country named Moogi, he had set fire to the villages in revenge! This was in a country, where I had established peace.

The Baris had attacked the troops, and had not only killed twenty-eight of our men, but had stripped the bodies, and possessed themselves of clothes, arms, and ammunition. They had also captured the cattle.

Although Tayib Agha had about 280 men, he actually retreated and dared not attack the natives to recover either the bodies of his men or their muskets! (The lieutenant who commanded the unfortunate detachment was killed while defending himself bravely to the last. In addition to the twenty-eight soldiers, two Bari interpreters were also killed, making a total loss of thirty.)

I at once determined to leave Major Abdullah as commandant at Fatiko, and to take Tayib Agha back to Gondokoro, as he was not fit for an independent command.

The immense delay in sending up the reinforcements had been occasioned by the long voyage from Khartoum.

When Wat-el-Mek had reached Gondokoro, the troops HAD NOT ARRIVED from Khartoum; therefore he was obliged to wait.

When at length they did arrive, they had been THIRTEEN MONTHS on the voyage to Gondokoro, and had passed the rainy season with the slave-traders in the camp of Kutchuk Ali on the Bahr Giraffe; this river they reported as navigable, owing to my canals, which had continued open.

It was the old story of delay and indolence, unless I was personally present to force them forward.

I had now 620 men, therefore I reinforced Rionga and the various stations. I thus garrisoned strongly Fatiko, Fabbo, and Paniadoli—the stockade opposite Rionga's island, in N. lat. 2 degrees 6'.

The country of Unyoro was now completely in the grasp of Ali Genninar and Rionga. Unyoro extends to the south of the equator on the shores of the Albert N'yanza, where Kabba Rega was supposed to be hiding.

On 14th March I drew out the following orders for Major Abdullah, who would remain as commandant of Fatiko:—

"1. Observe the rules at present existing respecting sentries.

"2. Observe the rules at present existing for cleanliness of camp.

"3. Plant negheel grass on ramparts during the rainy season.

"4. Clean out the fort ditch once every month.

"5. Each company of troops is to cultivate corn and vegetables at the commencement of the rains.

"6. Each company to be exercised at musketry drill for one hour daily.

"7. All troops to be exercised at light-infantry drill for three hours on Mondays and Fridays, upon which days there will be no other work.

"8. The corn-tax is to be regularly collected, so that three months' supply shall be the minimum in the camp granaries.

"9. The bugle to sound the night alarm once every month, to accustom the men to night quarters.

"10. The troops to occupy their stations at general quarters, according to present practice.

"11. Banana plants to be introduced upon every opportunity from Magungo.

"12. Coffee-berries17 to be sown in nursery-beds, when received from M'tese.

"13. The old huts to be cleared away and replaced by new, constructed in lines similar to those in the south camp.

"14. No ivory to be purchased in exchange for cattle, but only in barter for goods.

"15. NO SLAVES TO BE EITHER PURCHASED OR TAKEN.

"16. The bugle to sound 'Extinguish fires' at 8 p.m."

Having left everything in perfect order in the new central territory, I was ready to start for Gondokoro on 20th March.

I had been two years and five months without any news or communication with either Egypt or Europe when the post arrived with Wat-el-Mek. About 600 copies of the Times had arrived at once. We had been introduced to the Tichborne case; and of course had, at the earliest stage of the trial, concluded that the claimant was Arthur Orton. The news that is almost stereotyped in English newspapers gave us the striking incidents of civilization. Two or three wives had been brutally knocked about by their husbands, who had received only a slight punishment. A prominent divorce case; a few Irish agrarian outrages; a trial in the ecclesiastical court of a refractory clergyman; the smash-up of a few public companies, with the profitable immunity of the directors; a lady burnt to death; a colliery explosion; several hundred railway accidents, which induced me to prefer walking; the Communists had half destroyed Paris; republican principles were fast spreading through England; the Gladstone ministry would last for ever; some babies had been poisoned, and the baby-farmer had been hanged; deceased wife's sisters were to marry their disconsolate brothers; England was to pay a tribute to America (for the freaks of the Alabama); drunkenness was on the increase; ladies were to become our physicians; &c. I was almost afraid to return home; but as I had some friends and relations that I wished to see again, I left my little paradise, Fatiko, and marched for Gondokoro, accompanied by my good natives, Shooli and Gimoro.

After the absurd conduct and the defeat of Tayib Agha at Moogi, I fully expected to have to fight my way through; but upon arrival in that district the natives knew me, and we were not molested. They even sent me six cows which had been lost by Tayib Agha on the road during his unlucky march.

I had taken under my especial protection a number of Bari women and young girls whom Wat-el-Mek and Tayib Agha had pressed into their service to carry loads during their journey from Gondokoro to Fatiko. There can be no doubt that these poor creatures never would have been returned to their country, had I not delivered them; but seeing their condition upon their arrival at Fatiko, I had ordered them to accompany me, and to show me the position of their homes during the march.

On arrival at the broad dry bed of a stream about two days' march from Gondokoro, we halted beneath the shade of a large tree for breakfast. The women and children now approached, and hesitatingly declared that this was their country, and their villages were near. They evidently doubted my sincerity in restoring them, which hurt me exceedingly.

"Go, my good women," I exclaimed, "and when you arrive at your homes, explain to your people that you were captured entirely against my will, and that I am only happy to have released you."

For a few moments they looked around them, as hardly believing the good news. In another instant, as the truth flashed across their delighted minds, they rushed upon me in a body, and before I had time for self-defence, I found myself in the arms of a naked beauty who kissed me almost to suffocation, and with a most unpleasant embrace licked both my eyes with her tongue. The sentries came to my assistance, together with the servants, who withstood the grateful crowd; otherwise both my wife and myself would have been subjected to this painful thanksgiving from the liberated Bari women.

Their freedom having been explained, we gave each a present of beads as a reward for the trouble they had undergone, and they went away rejoicing, upon the road to their own homes.

We arrived at Gondokoro on 1st April, 1873, without the slightest disturbance during the march. This was the exact day upon which my term of service would have expired, according to my original agreement with the Khedive.

I halted the troops about half a mile from Gondokoro, to allow them to change their clothes, when I observed with the telescope some of the Englishmen approaching. Several of my welcome countrymen at length arrived.

"Where is Mr. Higginbotham?" I asked, as I was eager to see my chief engineer and friend.

There was a slight pause before the reply—"HE DIED ON THE LAST DAY OF FEBRUARY!"

I was quite overpowered with the dreadful news! Poor Higginbotham! who had been my right hand throughout the early portion of the expedition! He was a man who so thoroughly represented the character that we love to think is truly English, combining all energy, courage, and perseverance. He was gone!

We marched into Gondokoro. Fourteen months had made a change for the worse. I had left the station with a neat ditch and earthwork; the environs had been clean. It was now a mass of filth. Bones and remnants of old clothes, that would have been a fortune to a rag-and-bone shop, lay scattered in all directions. The ditch was filled up with sand, and the fallen bank washed in by the heavy rains, as it had never been cleansed during my absence.

The guns fired a salute; Raouf Bey and the troops appeared in good health; and I was shown into poor Higginbotham's house on the cliff above the river.

A beautiful new steamer of 108 tons, built of steel, with twin screws, was floating on the stream. This was the work of my Englishmen, who had taken a pride in turning out the best results that Messrs. Samuda Brothers and Messrs. Penn & Co. could produce.

I went on board to inspect the new vessel directly after breakfast. She had been admirably constructed, and being devoid of paddles, she would be able to glide through the narrow channels of the Bahr Giraffe like a fish.

Although the station was dirty and neglected, I must do Raouf Bey justice in acknowledging that he had paid much attention to the gardens on the islands, which were producing so abundantly that the troops received rations of vegetables daily.

Raouf Bey had also shown determination, and had accepted great responsibility in shooting a soldier for desertion during my absence.

It appeared that the reinforcements lately received from Khartoum were merely slaves that had been sold to the government, and had rapidly been trained for soldiers. Many of these people had originally come from the White Nile, therefore they were disposed to desert upon the first opportunity.

A considerable number had deserted, with their arms and ammunition. They had also stolen Raouf Bey's guns and rifles from his house, and had absconded to Belinian. Raouf Bey had called upon the Belinian to give up the deserters; but the Belinian natives had only replied to the summonses by making nightly demonstrations of attack against the station of Gondokoro, which had rendered sound sleep impossible for the last month. Raouf Bey had accordingly invaded Belinian, and had fought a pitched battle, in which the deserters who had joined the Baris fired upon the troops. Two of them were killed. (On this occasion, the Baris being well supplied with muskets and ammunition, the troops of Raouf Bey suffered considerable loss.)

I immediately sent for Allorron, who had now become a faithful sheik of the government. He confessed all his sins, and of course laid the whole blame upon Abou Saood, who he declared had deceived him, and instigated him against the government. I did not wish for any explanations upon the truth of which I could not rely. I therefore ordered him to go at once to Belinian, and inform the natives that, unless they gave up the deserters, I should pay them a visit with the "red shirts," who had now returned with me from Fatiko. At the same time I promised him three cows if he succeeded.

In a few days he returned with two deserters. These men were tried by court-martial, and having been found guilty, they were shot in the presence of the regiment.

Order and discipline were at once restored among the troops.

Now that I had returned with the "Forty Thieves," the natives of Belinian no longer visited the camp at night, but the country shortly became quiet and peaceful.

Wat-el-Mek, who had accompanied me from Fatiko, returned with reinforcements and a herd of cattle to his district. I parted with regret with my good men Shooli and Gimoro, to whom I gave some useful presents.

On 10th April I commenced a new fort with ditch and earthwork around the magazines, but the sandy nature of the soil will cause much trouble during the heavy rains.

I ordered Mr. Marcopolo to take stock, together with an Egyptian officer (Foad Effendi), of everything that remained within the magazine, and to take a receipt for his stores. This task occupied nearly a month.

The Englishmen had carefully packed everything that belonged to the No. 3 steamer and machinery, and had stowed her in a magazine that was given in charge of an officer, who gave a receipt for the contents.

Everything was ready by the 25th May for our return homewards. I erected a monument of red brick coated with pitch over my poor friend Higginbotham's grave, within my garden, near the spot where the missionaries were formerly buried.

We started on the 26th, having taken a farewell of my gallant "Forty Thieves," many of whom showed much emotion at parting. As I walked down the line of troops when I took official leave, my old soldiers broke the bounds of discipline by shouting: "May God give you a long life! and may you meet your family in good health at home!"

I felt a choking sensation in saying good-bye; but we were soon on board, and the steam was up.

The new steamer, the Khedive, took us in tow, and we travelled rapidly down the stream towards home in old England.

Although I had written the most important letters to the Khedive and to his minister in October 1871, I had, to my amazement, NOT RECEIVED ONE WORD IN REPLY by the post that had arrived from Egypt. I had apparently been looked upon as a dead man that did not require a letter. It appeared that my existence was utterly ignored by the Egyptian government, although I had received my letters in due course from England.

On arrival at the Bahr Giraffe, we found that the canals which I had formerly cut were much improved by the force of the stream. Although these passages were narrow, they had become deep, and we progressed with comparatively little trouble.

On 7th June, three sails were reported ahead on the horizon. We pushed forward with some curiosity, but unfortunately a sudd of vegetable rafts had closed the passage for a short distance, which required about an hour to clean; this delayed the chase.

That evening, as we had stopped for the night at a spot known as the "Three Dubbas," we heard a woman's voice from the high grass addressing us in an imploring tone. I immediately sent a boat to make inquiries, as one of our native girls understood the language.

It appeared that the woman had the small-pox, and she had been therefore thrown into the high grass, and abandoned by the vakeel of the three vessels that we had observed in the distance. She described these vessels as being crowded with slaves.

I gave the unfortunate creature a supply of six days' food, together with a cooking-pot and some firewood, but I dared not introduce so horrible a disease as the small-pox among our party. She was thus left alone upon the dubba. (At this season native fishermen visited the dubba, therefore she was most probably discovered on the following morning.)

On 8th June we steamed along, towards the tall masts and yards of the three vessels which we perceived upon the horizon.

The intricacies of the narrow channel were such that we did not overtake the slavers until sunset.

We then anchored for the night in a lake, while I sent a boat forward into the canal occupied by the three vessels to order the vakeel of the company to visit me immediately.

In a short time the boat returned with my old acquaintance Wat Hojoly, the vakeel of the Bohr station belonging to Abou Saood.

I had always liked this man, as he was generally straightforward in his manner. He now told me, without the slightest reserve, that during my absence in the south, several cargoes of slaves had passed the government station at Fashoda by bribing the governor; and that he would certainly have no difficulty, provided that I did not seize him. He confessed that he had 700 slaves on board the three vessels, and according to orders that he had received from his master, Abou Saood, he was conveying them to their destination, a few days south of Khartoum, on the White Nile; at which point they could either march overland to the west via Kordofan, or to the east via Sennaar; whence they could pass unmolested to the Red Sea or to other markets.

The small-pox had broken out among the slaves, several of whom had died.

I was most thoroughly disgusted and sick at heart. After all the trouble and difficulties that we had gone through for the suppression of the slave trade, there could be no question of the fact that Abou Saood, the great slave-hunter of the White Nile, was supported by some high authority behind the scenes, upon whom he could depend for protection.

This was apparently the last act of the drama, in which the villain of the piece could mock and scoff at justice, and ridicule every effort that I had made to suppress the slave trade. His vessels were actually sailing in triumph and defiance before the wind, with flags flying the crescent and the star, above a horrible cargo of pest-smitten humanity, in open contempt for my authority; which Wat Hojoly had been carefully informed did not extend north of Gondokoro.

I asked this plain-spoken agent whether he was quite sure that he could pass the government station? "Oh yes," he replied, "a little backsheesh will open the road; there is nothing to fear."

I was then informed by the same authority that Abou Saood had gone to Cairo to appeal to the Khedive's government against my proceedings, and to represent his TRADE as ruined by my acts.

This was a remarkable disclosure at the end of the last act; the moral of the piece was thus explained before the curtain fell. The slave-hunter par excellence of the White Nile, who had rented or farmed from the government, for some thousands sterling per annum, the right of TRADING in countries which did NOT belong to Egypt, was now on the road to protest against my interference with his TRADE, this innocent business being represented BY THREE VESSELS WITH SEVEN HUNDRED SLAVES THAT WERE TO PASS UNCHECKED BEFORE THE GOVERNMENT STATION OF FASHODA.

I told Wat Hojoly that I did not think he would succeed upon this occasion, but that I should certainly not lay hands upon him.

I had not received replies to my letters addressed to the Khedive, therefore I was determined not to exert physical force again; at the same time I made up my mind that the slave vessels should not pass Fashoda.

After some delay, owing to a shallow portion of the river, we passed ahead, and the fearful stench from the crowded slave vessels reeking with small-pox followed us for quite a mile down the wind. (Fortunately there was a powerful force with Wat Hojoly, whom I called upon for assistance in heaving the steamer over the bank; otherwise we must have dug a channel.)

On 19th June, at 3.30 P.M., we reached Fashoda. The governor at once came on board to receive us.

This officer hall been only recently appointed, and he appeared to be very energetic and desirous to assist me in the total extinction of the slave trade. I assured the governor (Jusef Effendi) that I had entirely suppressed it in my territory, and I had also suppressed the river trade in 1870; but if the authorities were determined to connive at this abomination, I had been placed in a disgracefully false position, and had been simply employed on a fool's errand.

Jusef Effendi assured me that it would be impossible for vessels to pass Fashoda with slave cargoes now that he represented the government, as the Khedive had issued the most positive orders within the last six months against the traffic in slaves; therefore such instructions must be obeyed.

I did not quite see that obedience to such orders was absolutely necessary, as the slave trade had been similarly prohibited by proclamation in the reign of the late Said Pacha, but with no permanent effect.

There were two fine steamers lying at Fashoda, which had formed a portion of the fleet of six steamers that I had sent up from Cairo some years ago to tow my flotilla up the White Nile. This was the first time that I had ever seen them.

I now told Jusef Effendi that he would be held responsible for the capture of Abou Saood's three vessels, together with the 700 slaves; at the same time, it would be advisable to allow them to arrive at Fashoda before their capture should be attempted; as the fact of such an audacious contempt of law would at once implicate the former governor as having been in the habit of connivance.

Jusef Effendi appeared to be in earnest. He was an active and highly intelligent Circassian who held the rank of lieutenant-colonel.

My servants had discovered by chance, when in communication with Wat Hojoly, that Salim-Wat-Howah, who had been one of the principal ringleaders in the attack upon the troops at Fatiko, and had subsequently knocked down Suleiman and possessed himself forcibly of the ammunition from the magazine, with which he and his party had absconded, was now actually concealed on one of the three slave vessels. I had taken care not to mention his name to Wat Hojoly, lest he should be left at some station upon the route, and thus escape me.

I now gave a written order to Jusef Effendi to arrest him upon the arrival of the slave vessels, and to send him to Khartoum in irons.

The news of Abou Saood's personal appeal to the government at Cairo was confirmed by the best authorities at Fashoda.

On 21st June I took leave of Jusef Effendi, and upon the 28th, at 11 A.M., we arrived at the large tree which is within five miles of Khartoum, by the short cut across the neck of land to the Blue Nile.

I stopped at this tree, and immediately wrote to Ismail Ayoub Pacha, the new governor of Khartoum, to telegraph INSTANTLY to Cairo to arrest Abou Saood.

I sent this note by a faithful officer, Ferritch Agha, with positive orders that he was to deliver it into the hands of Ismail Pacha.

This order was immediately carried out before any people in Khartoum had an idea of my return. Had I at once steamed round the point, some friend would have telegraphed my arrival to Abou Saood in Cairo, and he might have gone into concealment.

In the afternoon we observed a steamer rounding the distant headland at the point of junction of the two Niles. She rapidly approached, and in about half an hour my old friend, Ismail Ayoub Pacha, stepped on board my diahbeeah, and gave us a hearty welcome.

There was no letter either from the Khedive or Cherif Pacha, in reply to the important communications that I had written more than two years ago.

Ismail Ayoub Pacha was a friend of eight years' date. I had known him during my first expedition to the Nile sources as Ismail Bey, president of the council at Khartoum. He had lately been appointed governor, and I could only regret that my excellent friend had not been in that capacity from the commencement of the expedition, as I should have derived much assistance from his great energy and intelligence.

Ismail Ayoub Pacha is a Circassian. I have observed that all those officers who are superior to the average in intellect and general capacity belong to this race. The Circassians are admirably represented in Cherif Pacha, who is well known and respected by all Europeans in Egypt for his probity and high intelligence; and Riaz Pacha, who was lately the Minister for Public Instruction, is a Circassian much beloved and respected.

Ismail Ayoub had commenced a great reform in the Soudan, in his endeavour to put down the wholesale system of bribery and corruption which was the ruin of the country. He had also commenced a great work, according to the orders he had received from the Khedive, to remove the sudd or obstruction to the navigation of the great White Nile. He succeeded in re-opening the White Nile to navigation in the following season.

The Khedive had given this important order in consequence of letters that I had written on 31st August, 1870, to the Minister of the Interior, Cherif Pacha, and to his Highness direct on 8th October, 1871, in which communications I had strenuously advocated the absolute necessity of taking the work in hand, with a determination to re-establish the river in its original navigable condition.