'It Is
Quite Painful,' He Writes In His Journals In September, 'to See Men
Tremble So, When They Come And See Me, That They Cannot Hold The Match To
Their Cigarette.' Yet He Employed All Other Methods Of Inspiring
Their Efforts.
As the winter drew on, the sufferings of the besieged
increased and their faith in their commander and his promises of relief
diminished.
To preserve their hopes - and, by their hopes, their courage
and loyalty - was beyond the power of man. But what a great man in the
utmost exercise of his faculties and authority might do, Gordon did.
His extraordinary spirit never burned more brightly than in these last,
gloomy days. The money to pay the troops was exhausted. He issued notes,
signing them with his own name. The citizens groaned under the triple
scourge of scarcity, disease, and war. He ordered the bands to play
merrily and discharged rockets. It was said that they were abandoned,
that help would never come, that the expedition was a myth - the lie of
a General who was disavowed by his Government. Forthwith he placarded the
walls with the news of victories and of the advance of a triumphant
British army; or hired all the best houses by the river's bank for the
accommodation of the officers of the relieving force. A Dervish shell
crashed through his palace. He ordered the date of its arrival to be
inscribed above the hole. For those who served him faithfully he struck
medals and presented them with pomp and circumstance.
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