That One Man, A European Among Africans, A Christian
Among Mohammedans, Should By His Genius Have Inspired The Efforts Of
7,000
soldiers of inferior race, and by his courage have sustained the hearts
of 30,000 inhabitants of notorious
Timidity, and with such materials and
encumbrances have offered a vigorous resistance to the increasing attacks
of an enemy who, though cruel, would yet accept surrender, during a period
of 317 days, is an event perhaps without parallel in history. But it may
safely be predicted that no one will ever write an account which will
compare in interest or in detail with that set forth by the man himself
in the famous. 'Journals at Khartoum.'
The brief account has delighted thousands of readers in Europe and
America. Perhaps it is because he is careless of the sympathy of men
that Charles Gordon so readily wins it. Before the first of the six parts
into which the Journals were divided is finished, the reader has been won.
Henceforth he sees the world through Gordon's eyes. With him he scoffs
at the diplomatists; despises the Government; becomes impatient -
unreasonably, perhaps - with a certain Major Kitchener in the Intelligence
Branch, whose information miscarried or was not despatched; is wearied by
the impracticable Shaiggia Irregulars; takes interest in the turkey-cock
and his harem of four wives; laughs at the 'black sluts' seeing their
faces for the first time in the mirror. With him he trembles for the fate
of the 'poor little beast,' the Husseinyeh, when she drifts stern foremost
on the shoal, 'a penny steamer under cannon fire'; day after day he gazes
through the General's powerful telescope from the palace roof down the
long brown reaches of the river towards the rocks of the Shabluka Gorge,
and longs for some sign of the relieving steamers; and when the end of
the account is reached, no man of British birth can read the last words,
'Now mark this, if the Expeditionary Force - and I ask for no more than
two hundred men - does not come within ten days, the town may fall;
and I have done my best for the honour of our country. Good-bye,' without
being thrilled with vain regrets and futile resolutions. And then the
account stops short. Nor will the silence ever be broken. The sixth
instalment of the Journals was despatched on the 14th of December;
and when it is finished the reader, separated suddenly from the pleasant
companionship, experiences a feeling of loss and annoyance. Imagination,
long supported, is brushed aside by stern reality. Henceforward Gordon's
perils were unrecorded.
I would select one episode only from the Journals as an example of the
peculiarity and the sternness of Charles Gordon's character - his
behaviour towards Slatin. This Austrian officer had been Governor of
Darfur with the rank in the Egyptian service of Bey. For four years he
had struggled vainly against the rebellion. He had fought numerous
engagements with varied success. He had been several times wounded.
Throughout his province and even beyond its limits he bore the reputation
of a brave and capable soldier.
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