The
anxious but indomitable commander knew that the crisis impended, and knew
also that he was powerless to avert it. Perhaps he slept, satisfied that
he had done his duty; and in the silence of the night the savage enemy
crawled stealthily towards the town. The weary and disheartened sentinels,
weakened by famine and tired of war, maintained a doubtful vigilance along
the ramparts. The subsiding waters of the river had left a bare gap
between the White Nile and the wall. Perhaps there was treachery besides.
On a sudden the loud explosion of musketry broke the stillness of the
night and the slumbers of the people; and with a continual shouting
thousands of Dervishes swarmed through the unprotected space
and entered Khartoum.
One mob of assailants made their way to the palace. Gordon came out
to meet them. The whole courtyard was filled with wild, harlequin figures
and sharp, glittering blades. He attempted a parley. 'Where is your
master, the Mahdi?' He knew his influence over native races. Perhaps he
hoped to save the lives of some of the inhabitants. Perhaps in that
supreme moment imagination flashed another picture before his eyes;
and he saw himself confronted with the false prophet of a false religion,
confronted with the European prisoners who had 'denied their Lord,'
offered the choice of death or the Koran; saw himself facing that savage
circle with a fanaticism equal to, and a courage greater than, their own;
marching in all the pride of faith 'and with retorted scorn'
to a martyr's death.
It was not to be. Mad with the joy of victory and religious frenzy,
they rushed upon him and, while he disdained even to fire his revolver,
stabbed him in many places. The body fell down the steps and lay -
a twisted heap - at the foot. There it was decapitated. The head was
carried to the Mahdi. The trunk was stabbed again and again by the
infuriated creatures, till nothing but a shapeless bundle of torn flesh
and bloody rags remained of what had been a great and famous man and the
envoy of her Britannic Majesty. The blood soaked into the ground,
and left a dark stain which was not immediately effaced. Slatin mentions
that the Arabs used often to visit the place. Ohrwalder went himself,
and more than six weeks after the capture of the town, saw 'black spots'
upon the steps. But they have all since been obliterated.
Such, briefly, is the story of the fall of Khartoum and of the death
of Gordon. The fact that the two steamers arrived only two days after the
capture of the town has given colour to the belief that, but for the three
days' delay at Metemma, the catastrophe might have been averted. This view
appears incorrect. The Arabs had long held Khartoum at their mercy. They
hoped, indeed, to compel its surrender by famine and to avoid an assault,
which after their experience at El Obeid they knew must cost them dear.
Gordon has stated in his Journals that the town became defenceless by the
middle of December.
