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The River War

W >> Winston S. Churchill >> The River War




The Dervish line, broken by the charge, began to re-form at once.
They closed up, shook themselves together, and prepared with constancy and
courage for another shock. But on military considerations it was desirable
to turn them out of the khor first and thus deprive them of their vantage
ground. The regiment again drawn up, three squadrons in line and the fourth
in column, now wheeled to the right, and, galloping round the Dervish flank,
dismounted and opened a heavy fire with their magazine carbines. Under the
pressure of this fire the enemy changed front to meet the new attack,
so that both sides were formed at right angles to their original lines.
When the Dervish change of front was completed, they began to advance
against the dismounted men. But the fire was accurate, and there can be
little doubt that the moral effect of the charge had been very great,
and that these brave enemies were no longer unshaken. Be this as it may,
the fact remains that they retreated swiftly, though in good order,
towards the ridge of Surgham Hill, where the Khalifa's Black Flag still
waved, and the 21st Lancers remained in possession of the ground--
and of their dead.

Such is the true and literal account of the charge; but the reader
may care to consider a few incidents. Colonel Martin, busy with the
direction of his regiment, drew neither sword nor revolver, and rode
through the press unarmed and uninjured. Major Crole Wyndham had his horse
shot under him by a Dervish who pressed the muzzle of his rifle into its
hide before firing. From out of the middle of that savage crowd the
officer fought his way on foot and escaped in safety. Lieutenant Molyneux
fell in the khor into the midst of the enemy. In the confusion he
disentangled himself from his horse, drew his revolver, and jumped out
of the hollow before the Dervishes recoved from the impact of the charge.
Then they attacked him. He fired at the nearest, and at the moment of
firing was slashed across the right wrist by another. The pistol fell
from his nerveless hand, and, being wounded, dismounted, and disarmed,
he turned in the hopes of regaining, by following the line of the charge,
his squadron, which was just getting clear. Hard upon his track came
the enemy, eager to make an end. Beset on all sides, and thus hotly
pursued, the wounded officer perceived a single Lancer riding across his
path. He called on him for help. Whereupon the trooper, Private Byrne,
although already severely wounded by a bullet which had penetrated his
right arm, replied without a moment's hesitation and in a cheery voice,
'All right, sir!' and turning, rode at four Dervishes who were about to
kill his officer. His wound, which had partly paralysed his arm,
prevented him from grasping his sword, and at the first ineffectual
blow it fell from his hand, and he received another wound from a spear
in the chest. But his solitary charge had checked the pursuing Dervishes.
Lieutenant Molyneux regained his squadron alive, and the trooper, seeing
that his object was attained, galloped away, reeling in his saddle.
Arrived at his troop, his desperate condition was noticed and he was told
to fall out. But this he refused to do, urging that he was entitled to
remain on duty and have 'another go at them.' At length he was compelled
to leave the field, fainting from loss of blood.

Lieutenant Nesham had an even more extraordinary escape than Molyneux.
He had scrambled out of the khor when, as his horse was nearly stopping,
an Arab seized his bridle. He struck at the man with his sword, but did not
prevent him cutting his off-rein. The officer's bridle-hand, unexpectedly
released, flew out, and, as it did so, a swordsman at a single stroke
nearly severed it from his body. Then they cut at him from all sides.
One blow sheared through his helmet and grazed his head. Another inflicted
a deep wound in his right leg. A third, intercepted by his shoulder-chains,
paralysed his right arm. Two more, missing him narrowly, cut right through
the cantel of the saddle and into the horse's back. The wounded subaltern
--he was the youngest of all--reeled. A man on either side seized his legs
to pull him to the ground; but the long spurs stuck into the horse's flanks,
and the maddened animal, throwing up its head and springing forward,
broke away from the crowd of foes, and carried the rider--bleeding,
fainting, but still alive--to safety among the rallying squadrons.
Lieutenant Nesham's experience was that of the men who were killed,
only that he escaped to describe it.

The wounded were sent with a small escort towards the river and hospitals.
An officer was despatched with the news to the Sirdar, and on the instant
both cannonade and fusillade broke out again behind the ridge, and grew in
a crashing crescendo until the whole landscape seemed to vibrate with
the sound of explosions. The second phase of the battle had begun.

Even before the 21st Lancers had reconnoitred Surgham ridge, the Sirdar
had set his brigades in motion towards Omdurman. He was determined, even at
a very great risk, to occupy the city while it was empty and before the
army in the plain could return to defend it. The advantage might be
tremendous. Nevertheless the movement was premature. The Khalifa still
remained undefeated west of Surgham Hill; Ali-Wad-Helu lurked behind
Kerreri; Osman was rapidly re-forming. There were still at least 35,000 men
on the field. Nor, as the event proved, was it possible to enter Omdurman
until they had been beaten.

As soon as the infantry had replenished their ammunition, they wheeled to
the left in echelon of brigades, and began to march towards Surgham ridge.
The movements of a great force are slow. It was not desirable that the
British division, which led the echelon, should remain in the low ground
north of Surgham--where they were commanded, had no field of fire,
and could see nothing--and accordingly both these brigades moved forward
almost together to occupy the crest of the ridge. Thus two steps of the
ladder were run into one, and Maxwell's brigade, which followed Wauchope's,
was 600 yards further south than it would have been had the regular echelon
been observed. In the zeriba MacDonald had been next to Maxwell. But a very
significant change in the order was now made. General Hunter evidently
conceived the rear of the echelon threatened from the direction of Kerreri.
Had the earth swallowed all the thousands who had moved across the plain
towards the hills? At any rate, he would have his best brigade and his most
experienced general in the post of possible danger. He therefore ordered
Lewis's brigade to follow Maxwell, and left MacDonald last of all,
strengthening him with three batteries of artillery and eight Maxim guns.
Collinson marched with the transport. MacDonald moved out westward into the
desert to take his place in the echelon, and also to allow Lewis to pass
him as ordered. Lewis hurried on after Maxwell, and, taking his distance
from him, was thus also 600 yards further south than the regular echelon
admitted. The step which had been absorbed when both British brigades moved
off--advisedly--together, caused a double gap between MacDonald and the
rest of the army. And this distance was further increased by the fact that
while he was moving west, to assume his place in correct echelon, the other
five brigades were drawing off to the southward. Hence MacDonald's
isolation.

At 9.15 the whole army was marching south in echelon, with the rear brigade
at rather more than double distance. Collinson had already started with the
transport, but the field hospitals still remained in the deserted zeriba,
busily packing up. The medical staff had about 150 wounded on their hands.
The Sirdar's orders had been that these were to be placed on the hospital
barges, and that the field hospitals were to follow the transport. But the
moving of wounded men is a painful and delicate affair, and by a stupid and
grievous mistake the three regular hospital barges, duly prepared for the
reception of the wounded, had been towed across to the right bank. It was
necessary to use three ammunition barges, which, although in no way
arranged for the reception of wounded, were luckily at hand. Meanwhile time
was passing, and the doctors, who worked with devoted energy, became
suddenly aware that, with the exception of a few detachments from the
British division and three Egyptian companies, there were no troops within
half a mile, and none between them and the dark Kerreri Hills. The two
gunboats which could have guarded them from the river were down stream,
helping the cavalry; MacDonald with the rear brigade was out in the plain;
Collinson was hurrying along the bank with his transport. They were alone
and unprotected. The army and the river together formed a huge "V" pointing
south. The northern extremity--the gorge of the redan, as it were--
gaped open towards Kerreri; and from Kerreri there now began to come, like
the first warning drops before a storm of rain, small straggling parties
of Dervish cavalry. The interior of the "V" was soon actually invaded
by these predatory patrols, and one troop of perhaps a score of Baggara
horse watered their ponies within 300 yards of the unprotected hospitals.
Behind, in the distance, the banners of an army began to re-appear.
The situation was alarming. The wounded were bundled on to the barges,
although, since there was no steamer to tow them, they were scarcely any
safer when embarked. While some of the medical officers were thus busied,
Colonel Sloggett galloped off, and, running the gauntlet of the Baggara
horsemen, hurried to claim protection for the hospitals and their helpless
occupants. In the midst of this excitement and confusion the wounded from
the cavalry charge began to trickle in.

When the British division had moved out of the zeriba, a few skirmishers
among the crags of Surgham Hill alone suggested the presence of an enemy.
Each brigade, formed in four parallel columns of route, which closed in
until they were scarcely forty paces apart, and both at deploying interval
--the second brigade nearer the river, the first almost in line with it
and on its right--hurried on, eager to see what lay beyond the ridge.
All was quiet, except for a few 'sniping' shots from the top of Surgham.
But gradually as Maxwell's brigade--the third in the echelon--approached
the hill, these shots became more numerous, until the summit of the peak
was spotted with smoke-puffs. The British division moved on steadily, and,
leaving these bold skirmishers to the Soudanese, soon reached the crest of
the ridge. At once and for the first time the whole panorama of Omdurman--
the brown and battered dome of the Mahdi's Tomb, the multitude of mud
houses, the glittering fork of water which marked the confluence of the
rivers--burst on their vision. For a moment they stared entranced.
Then their attention was distracted; for trotting, galloping, or halting
and gazing stupidly about them, terrified and bewildered, a dozen riderless
troop-horses appeared over the further crest--for the ridge was flat-topped
--coming from the plain, as yet invisible, below. It was the first news of
the Lancers' charge. Details soon followed in the shape of the wounded,
who in twos and threes began to make their way between the battalions,
all covered with blood and many displaying most terrible injuries--
faces cut to rags, bowels protruding, fishhook spears still stuck in their
bodies--realistic pictures from the darker side of war. Thus absorbed,
the soldiers hardly noticed the growing musketry fire from the peak.
But suddenly the bang of a field-gun set all eyes looking backward.
A battery had unlimbered in the plain between the zeriba and the ridge,
and was beginning to shell the summit of the hill. The report of the guns
seemed to be the signal for the whole battle to reopen. From far away to
the right rear there came the sound of loud and continuous infantry firing,
and immediately Gatacre halted his division.

Almost before the British had topped the crest of the ridge, before the
battery had opened from the plain, while Colonel Sloggett was still
spurring across the dangerous ground between the river and the army,
the Sirdar knew that his enemy was again upon him. Looking back from the
slopes of Surgham, he saw that MacDonald, instead of continuing his march
in echelon, had halted and deployed. The veteran brigadier had seen the
Dervish formations on the ridge to the west of Surgham, realised that he
was about to be attacked, and, resolving to anticipate the enemy,
immediately brought his three batteries into action at 1,200 yards,
Five minutes later the whole of the Khalifa's reserve, 15,000 strong,
led by Yakub with the Black Flag, the bodyguard and 'all the glories' of
the Dervish Empire, surged into view from behind the hill and advanced on
the solitary brigade with the vigour of the first attack and thrice its
chances of success. Thereupon Sir Herbert Kitchener ordered Maxwell to
change front to the right and storm Surgham Hill. He sent Major Sandbach
to tell Lewis to conform and come into line on Maxwell's right.
He galloped himself to the British division--conveniently halted by General
Gatacre on the northern crest of the ridge--and ordered Lyttelton with the
2nd Brigade to form facing west on Maxwell's left south of Surgham,
and Wauchope with the 1st Brigade to hurry back to fill the wide gap
between Lewis and MacDonald. Last of all he sent an officer to Collinson
and the Camel Corps with orders that they should swing round to their right
rear and close the open part of the "V". By these movements the army,
instead of facing south in echelon, with its left on the river and its
right in the desert, was made to face west in line, with its left in the
desert and its right reaching back to the river. It had turned nearly
a complete somersault.

In obedience to these orders Lyttelton's brigade brought up their left
shoulders, deployed into line, and advanced west; Maxwell's Soudanese
scrambled up the Surgham rocks, and, in spite of a sharp fire, cleared the
peak with the bayonet and pressed on down the further side; Lewis began to
come into action on Maxwell's right; MacDonald, against whom the Khalifa's
attack was at first entirely directed, remained facing south-west, and was
soon shrouded in the smoke of his own musketry and artillery fire.
The three brigades which were now moving west and away from the Nile
attacked the right flank of the Dervishes assailing MacDonald, and,
compelling them to form front towards the river, undoubtedly took much of
the weight of the attack off the isolated brigade. There remained the gap
between Lewis and MacDonald. But Wauchope's brigade--still in four parallel
columns of route--had shouldered completely round to the north, and was now
doubling swiftly across the plain to fill the unguarded space. With the
exception of Wauchope's brigade and of Collinson's Egyptians, the whole
infantry and artillery force were at once furiously engaged.

The firing became again tremendous, and the sound was even louder than
during the attack on the zeriba. As each fresh battalion was brought into
line the tumult steadily increased. The three leading brigades continued to
advance westward in one long line looped up over Surgham Hill, and with the
right battalion held back in column. As the forces gradually drew nearer,
the possibility of the Dervishes penetrating the gap between Lewis and
MacDonald presented itself, and the flank battalion was wheeled into line
so as to protect the right flank. The aspect of the Dervish attack was at
this moment most formidable. Enormous masses of men were hurrying towards
the smoke-clouds that almost hid MacDonald. Other masses turned to meet the
attack which was developing on their right. Within the angle formed by the
three brigades facing west and MacDonald facing nearly south a great army
of not fewer than 15,000 men was enclosed, like a flock of sheep in a fold,
by the thin brown lines of the British and Egyptian brigades. As the 7th
Egyptians, the right battalion of Lewis's brigade and nearest the gap
between that unit and MacDonald, deployed to protect the flank, they became
unsteady, began to bunch and waver, and actually made several retrograde
movements. There was a moment of danger; but General Hunter, who was on the
spot, himself ordered the two reserve companies of the 15th Egyptians under
Major Hickman to march up behind them with fixed bayonets. Their morale was
thus restored and the peril averted. The advance of the three brigades
continued.

Yakub found himself utterly unable to withstand the attack from the river.
His own attack on MacDonald languished. The musketry was producing terrible
losses in his crowded ranks. The valiant Wad Bishara and many other less
famous Emirs fell dead. Gradually he began to give ground. It was evident
that the civilised troops were the stronger. But even before the attack was
repulsed, the Khalifa, who watched from a close position, must have known
that the day was lost; for when he launched Yakub at MacDonald, it was
clear that the only chance of success depended on Ali-Wad-Helu and Osman
Sheikh-ed-Din attacking at the same time from Kerreri. And with bitter rage
and mortification he perceived that, although the banners were now
gathering under the Kerreri Hills, Ali and Osman were too late, and the
attacks which should have been simultaneous would only be consecutive.
The effect of Broadwood's cavalry action upon the extreme right was now
becoming apparent.

Regrets and fury were alike futile. The three brigades advancing drove the
Khalifa's Dervishes back into the desert. Along a mile of front an intense
and destructive fire flared and crackled. The 32nd British Field Battery on
the extreme left was drawn by its hardy mules at full gallop into action.
The Maxim guns pulsated feverishly. Two were even dragged by the enterprise
of a subaltern to the very summit of Surgham, and from this elevated
position intervened with bloody effect. Thus the long line moved forward in
irresistible strength. In the centre, under the red Egyptian flag, careless
of the bullets which that conspicuous emblem drew, and which inflicted some
loss among those around him, rode the Sirdar, stern and sullen, equally
unmoved by fear or enthusiasm. A mile away to the rear the gunboats,
irritated that the fight was passing beyond their reach, steamed restlessly
up and down, like caged Polar bears seeking what they might devour. Before
that terrible line the Khalifa's division began to break up. The whole
ground was strewn with dead and wounded, among whose bodies the soldiers
picked their steps with the customary Soudan precautions. Surviving
thousands struggled away towards Omdurman and swelled the broad stream of
fugitives upon whose flank the 2lst Lancers already hung vengefully.
Yakub and the defenders of the Black Flag disdained to fly, and perished
where they stood, beneath the holy ensign, so that when their conquerors
reached the spot the dark folds of the banner waved only over the dead.

While all this was taking place--for events were moving at speed--
the 1st British Brigade were still doubling across the rear of Maxwell and
Lewis to fill the gap between the latter and MacDonald. As they had wheeled
round, the regiments gained on each other according to their proximity to
the pivot flank. The brigade assumed a formation which may be described as
an echelon of columns of route, with the Lincolns, who were actually the
pivot regiment, leading. By the time that the right of Lewis's brigade was
reached and the British had begun to deploy, it was evident that the
Khalifa's attack was broken and that his force was in full retreat. In the
near foreground the Arab dead lay thick. Crowds of fugitives were trooping
off in the distance. The Black Flag alone waved defiantly over the corpses
of its defenders. In the front of the brigade the fight was over. But those
who looked away to the right saw a different spectacle. What appeared to be
an entirely new army was coming down from the Kerreri Hills. While the
soldiers looked and wondered, fresh orders arrived. A mounted officer
galloped up. There was a report that terrible events were happening in the
dust and smoke to the northward. The spearmen had closed with MacDonald's
brigade; were crumpling his line from the flank; had already broken it.
Such were the rumours. The orders were more precise. The nearest regiment--
the Lincolnshire--was to hurry to MacDonald's threatened flank to meet the
attack. The rest of the brigade was to change front half right, and remain
in support. The Lincolnshires, breathless but elated, forthwith started off
again at the double. They began to traverse the rear of MacDonald's brigade,
dimly conscious of rapid movements by its battalions, and to the sound of
tremendous independent firing, which did not, however, prevent them from
hearing the venomous hiss of bullets.

Had the Khalifa's attack been simultaneous with that which was now
developed, the position of MacDonald's brigade must have been almost
hopeless. In the actual event it was one of extreme peril. The attack in
his front was weakening every minute, but the far more formidable attack
on his right rear grew stronger and nearer in inverse ratio. Both attacks
must be met. The moment was critical; the danger near. All depended on
MacDonald, and that officer, who by valour and conduct in war had won his
way from the rank of a private soldier to the command of a brigade,
and will doubtless obtain still higher employment, was equal
to the emergency.

To meet the Khalifa's attack he had arranged his force facing south-west,
with three battalions in line and the fourth held back in column of
companies in rear of the right flank--an inverted L-shaped formation.
As the attack from the south-west gradually weakened and the attack from
the north-west continually increased, he broke off his battalions and
batteries from the longer side of the L and transferred them to the shorter.
He timed these movements so accurately that each face of his brigade was
able to exactly sustain the attacks of the enemy. As soon as the Khalifa's
force began to waver he ordered the XIth Soudanese and a battery on his left
to move across the angle in which the brigade was formed, and deploy along
the shorter face to meet the impending onslaught of Ali-Wad-Helu. Perceiving
this, the IXth Soudanese, who were the regiment in column on the right of
the original front, wheeled to the right from column into line without
waiting for orders, so that two battalions faced towards the Khalifa and
two towards the fresh attack. By this time it was clear that the Khalifa
was practically repulsed, and MacDonald ordered the Xth Soudanese and
another battery to change front and prolong the line of the IXth and XIth.
He then moved the 2nd Egyptians diagonally to their right front, so as to
close the gap at the angle between their line and that of the three other
battalions. These difficult manoeuvres were carried out under a heavy fire,
which in twenty minutes caused over 120 casualties in the four battalions--
exclusive of the losses in the artillery batteries--and in the face of the
determined attacks of an enemy who outnumbered the troops by seven to one
and had only to close with them to be victorious. Amid the roar of the
firing and the dust, smoke, and confusion of the change of front,
the general found time to summon the officers of the IXth Soudanese
around him, rebuked them for having wheeled into line in anticipation
of his order, and requested them to drill more steadily in brigade.

The three Soudanese battalions were now confronted with the whole fury
of the Dervish attack from Kerreri. The bravery of the blacks was no less
conspicuous than the wildness of their musketry. They evinced an
extraordinary excitement--firing their rifles without any attempt to sight
or aim, and only anxious to pull the trigger, re-load, and pull it again.
In vain the British officers strove to calm their impulsive soldiers.
In vain they called upon them by name, or, taking their rifles from them,
adjusted the sights themselves. The independent firing was utterly beyond
control. Soon the ammunition began to be exhausted, and the soldiers
turned round clamouring for more cartridges, which their officers doled out
to them by twos and threes in the hopes of steadying them. It was useless.
They fired them all off and clamoured for more. Meanwhile, although
suffering fearfully from the close and accurate fire of the three artillery
batteries and eight Maxim guns, and to a less extent from the random firing
of the Soudanese, the Dervishes drew nearer in thousands, and it seemed
certain that there would be an actual collision. The valiant blacks
prepared themselves with delight to meet the shock, notwithstanding the
overwhelming numbers of the enemy. Scarcely three rounds per man remained
throughout the brigade. The batteries opened a rapid fire of case-shot.
Still the Dervishes advanced, and the survivors of their first wave of
assault were scarcely 100 yards away. Behind them both green flags
pressed forward over enormous masses of armed humanity, rolling on
as they now believed to victory.

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