‘The amount of water which could be stored even by a very small rise in the levels would be far beyond any possible requirements. This lake may consequently be omitted altogether from any projects for water-storage. Much of the country adjoining Lake Victoria Nyanza is densely populated, and the villages are situated close to the shores. Any considerable rise in the water-levels would flood a large and populous area of country. Itmust not, moreover, be forgotten that about half the area covered by this lake falls within German territory. As the inhabitants of the southern half of this lake would derive no benefit from such a reservoir, it is quite conceivable that they might view any such proposal with disfavour.’
‘The amount of water which could be stored even by a very small rise in the levels would be far beyond any possible requirements. This lake may consequently be omitted altogether from any projects for water-storage. Much of the country adjoining Lake Victoria Nyanza is densely populated, and the villages are situated close to the shores. Any considerable rise in the water-levels would flood a large and populous area of country. Itmust not, moreover, be forgotten that about half the area covered by this lake falls within German territory. As the inhabitants of the southern half of this lake would derive no benefit from such a reservoir, it is quite conceivable that they might view any such proposal with disfavour.’
He proceeds to argue that Lake Albert, on the other hand, is specially adapted by its conformation for the purpose.
‘With a regulating dam at a point on the river below its exit, the Albert Lake could well be used to store up water during the rainy season, which would be discharged into the river during the months of low supply. In this way a double purpose would be served: the volume of the river in flood would be diminished, and in summer would be largely increased. The lake has an enormous catchment area, and it seems probable that its levels could be, without serious difficulty, raised to the required height.’
‘With a regulating dam at a point on the river below its exit, the Albert Lake could well be used to store up water during the rainy season, which would be discharged into the river during the months of low supply. In this way a double purpose would be served: the volume of the river in flood would be diminished, and in summer would be largely increased. The lake has an enormous catchment area, and it seems probable that its levels could be, without serious difficulty, raised to the required height.’
In all probability the arguments will be found to be conclusive in favour of a dam at the exit to Lake Albert, but the reasoning against a regulator for Lake Victoria does not appear at first sight very cogent. Sir W. Garstin tells us that three years ago the mean water level of the lake averaged some 8 feet lower than it did twenty years earlier. But between January 1 and June 1, 1901, the level rose 3 feet 3 inches. When such fluctuations already occur in the ordinary course of Nature, it would seem that some very useful regulation might be carried out without causing the least inconvenience to any dwellers on the shore, German or otherwise. All these remarks, however, were written quite tentatively by Sir W. Garstin beforehe had personally examined these regions, and his next report will be certain to give fuller information on the matter. Perhaps in the end both lakes will be subjected to the yoke of the engineers.
Such in brief outline are the gigantic schemes which are now engaging the attention of the irrigation authorities of Egypt. Great as are the achievements of the past, they look almost petty before these visions of the future.
Ifthe White Nile carried its waters in a channel in any way resembling that of the Blue Nile, there would be small cause for anxiety over the summer supply of Egypt. As far as Lado, indeed, the Bahr el Gebel, or Mountain River, as it is called, does flow with as good a slope and as sound a rocky bed as any Egyptian could desire. Then it enters upon the great plain which extends practically as far as Khartoum, but until Bor is reached it has not to encounter more than the ordinary troubles of a flat country. The swamps are still well above the summer level of the river, and the loss of volume is not great. At Bor, however, the real difficulties begin, and the ‘shorn and parcelled river strains’ miserably along for some 350 miles through the real sudd country. The river that leaves Lado in April or March with a volume of 600 cubic metres per second is reduced to less than half this amount by the time it emerges from the maze on the further side, and that, too, although it has nominally received at Lake No through the Bahr el Ghazal the drainage of a vast province.
Lake No is the remains of an inland sea whichonce covered all this desolate region. Gradually this lake became silted up with peaty deposits, and formed a series of swamps and lagoons through which the Bahr el Gebel from the south and the Bahr el Ghazal from the west wander in a series of loops and curves without any certain banks. The smallest rise in the level of the river floods an immense tract of country, and at all times of the year the sudd region is one gigantic evaporating pan. The Bahr el Ghazal, so far as any active contribution to the volume of the Nile is concerned, is practically lost altogether, though by spreading out over the marshes it fills a space which the Bahr el Gebel would otherwise occupy, and so helps to form a sort of reservoir, which prevents any rapid fall in the level of the White Nile.
All these swamps are covered with a dense growth of reeds and water-weeds. Of these, the most important is the papyrus, which grows in great abundance, and often reaches a height of 10 to 16 feet. Once the papyrus was common in Egypt, but now it is not found north of Abu Zeid, 190 miles south of Khartoum. In Europe it is not found, except on the river Anapo in Sicily, where, however, it does not attain anything like the same luxuriant growth. There are also great stretches of the reed called in Arabic ‘um soof,’ or the mother of wool. It is no wonder that the party sent by Nero to explore the river was intimidated by these interminable forests of papyrus and reeds, and turned back. No travellers have a good word to say for this country, unless they only pass through it extremely quickly. It is monotonous and desolate in the extreme, the airis always hot and steamy, and after dark mosquitoes rage in countless myriads.
As far as Shambe the banks of the river are fairly well defined, but there are numbers of breaches in them, through which the water spills into the marshes. In a distance of seventy-five miles Sir W. Garstin counted 129 of these breaches, usually about 4 yards wide; nearly all of these were on the eastern side. These channels are deeply cut with vertical sides, as if dug by hand, and the loss of water through them is very great. The marshes on the eastern side drain off into the Bahr el Zeraf, which takes off near Shambe, and, cutting off the corner, rejoins the Nile below Lake No. Greatly diminished by this loss, the Bahr el Gebel continues on its way, its bank being often nothing more than a line of papyrus separating it from large lagoons or dense thickets of reeds. As long as the channel is clear, tortuous and winding though it is, a great deal of water is able to pass; but under certain circumstances the channel becomes blocked by bars of solid vegetable matter, called sudd. Upstream of the obstruction the level rises, and, spreading out over the marshes, more and more water is lost in evaporation.
Sudd occurs both in the Bahr el Ghazal and the Bahr el Gebel, but it is of different kinds. The Ghazal sudd is very much less substantial than that of the Gebel. It is chiefly composed of masses of the smaller swimming plants, which grow in Lake Ambadi and other shallow lagoons on that river and its affluents. But on the Gebel the principal constituents of the sudd are the papyrus and the ‘um soof’ reed. Both these plantsgrow with their roots bedded in the soil below the shallow water of the lagoons. Strong gales are prevalent in these latitudes, and these loosen the roots, so that, if the storms are accompanied by flood, large masses of the plants are set free, and begin drifting over the lagoons. Quantities of earth remain clinging to their drifting roots, and thus they are driven backwards and forwards by the wind. The storms come generally just before the flood, and thus there is plenty of water for the reeds to float in. Eventually they are driven, whole acres at a time, into the channel of the river, and are carried down the stream. But the channel being very narrow and winding, they soon get caught up, and a block occurs. New masses come down, and these are sucked by the stream under the original block, till a dense mass is formed, sometimes as much as over 20 feet thick, and so solid that a man can walk over it. If left to themselves, these blocks may last a very long time, and cause the river to change its course; or else by increased pressure the block is burst, and a great wave passes down the river, which sweeps all other blocks away. Years of high flood are generally followed by a great deal of sudd.
It appears that the conditions on the river between Lake No and Shambe are much more favourable to blocking by sudd than they used to be. In 1840 Mehemet Ali sent a scientific expedition under D’Arnaud to explore the White Nile. At that time the main stream through the sudd country was much bigger and stronger. No mention is made of the Bahr el Zeraf at all, which looks as though it was of much less importance,at any rate. They noticed, however, a number of openings in the banks between the river and the swamps, some natural, but some artificial, made by the natives for fishing purposes. It is plausibly argued by Sir W. Willcocks that these openings were later widened by the natives to enable them to escape in their canoes from the slave-dealers, and then by the slave-dealers themselves, escaping in their turn from Government patrol boats. All these spills would drain into the Bahr el Zeraf, which gradually became a navigable stream in its lower part. In 1863 Sir Samuel Baker ascended the Bahr el Gebel without any difficulty; but in that year there was a very high flood and a great deal of sudd. Returning in 1865, Baker found the river north of Lake No considerably blocked. In 1870 Baker was unable to ascend the Bahr el Gebel with his expedition to Equatoria, and went by the Bahr el Zeraf. He cut through the sudd in that stream with prodigious labour, and had finally to cut a ditch through 2,000 feet of solid clay. Even then the Bahr Zeraf level was so much below that of the Bahr el Gebel that he could not get his boats through until he had dammed the Zeraf behind them so as to lift them up. In 1873 he says he found the canals much improved by the force of the stream. All this naturally contributed to weaken the power of the main stream and render it very liable to sudding.
In 1874, when the river was low, the sudd was cleared away by Ismail Pasha Ayoub, then Governor-General of the Soudan, and all through Gordon’s time in Equatoria there was free passage, but the channel had dwindled very much.The heavy flood of 1878 brought the sudd down again worse than ever, where it remained until cleared by Marno in 1880. It was in that year that Gessi, on his way back from his province, was caught and suffered such hardships in the sudd on the Bahr el Ghazal. He was only rescued by the appearance of Marno. Unfortunately, no record has been left of the methods which Marno employed in the work, but he spoke of it as quite an easy matter.
Little is known of the state of the sudd during the years of the Mahdi and the Khalifa; but in 1898 Lord Kitchener found the Bahr el Gebel blocked by sudd immediately above Lake No; and about the same time Colonel Martyr, coming from Uganda, was unable to penetrate more than 20 miles north of Shambe for the same reason. As soon as the Khalifa had been finally crushed, operations to clear the channel were immediately undertaken. In the first three months a length of 80 miles of river had been cleared, including 5 miles of actual sudd in eleven blocks, besides three more blocks which broke away of themselves. The blocks that came away of themselves represented a very large amount of sudd. After one of them had burst, the floating weed took thirty-six hours to pass a given point. The effect produced by the sudd in damming up the river is illustrated by the fact that when the third block, which was nearly 20 feet thick, was removed, the upstream level fell 5 feet in four days, and all the swamps and lagoons began to drain into the river.
The amount of labour was prodigious. At one place, owing to the enormous masses of um soofand papyrus that kept pressing into the river, no less than eleven clearances had to be made in one year. Five gunboats and 800 dervish prisoners, besides officers and guards, were employed. Sir W. Garstin gives an interesting description of the methods by which the sudd was removed:
‘In the first place, the papyrus and reeds on its surface were burnt (curious to relate, these green reeds burn readily when the marsh is dry), and in a few hours’ time the surface of the sudd was an expanse of blackened stalks and ashes. As soon as the fire had died down, gangs of men were landed from the steamer and employed in cutting trenches on the surface of the sudd. These trenches averaged from 0·60 to 0·80 metre in width, and from 1 to 1·25 metres in depth—i.e., as deep as the men could work. The surface was thus divided into a number of rectangular blocks some 3 metres by 4 metres. To these blocks were attached, one by one, steel hawsers and chains. This done, the steamer downstream went full speed astern. It invariably took several pulls to detach a block, and in some instances as many as nine were necessary. Both hawsers and chains kept constantly breaking, although the former were calculated to stand a strain of 35 tons per square inch, and the latter as much as 60 tons. As soon as a block was detached from the mass, it was allowed to float downstream. It was curious to see the green reeds and papyrus which had been confined beneath it reappear on the surface of the water. A horrible stench prevailed from the rotting vegetation.’
‘In the first place, the papyrus and reeds on its surface were burnt (curious to relate, these green reeds burn readily when the marsh is dry), and in a few hours’ time the surface of the sudd was an expanse of blackened stalks and ashes. As soon as the fire had died down, gangs of men were landed from the steamer and employed in cutting trenches on the surface of the sudd. These trenches averaged from 0·60 to 0·80 metre in width, and from 1 to 1·25 metres in depth—i.e., as deep as the men could work. The surface was thus divided into a number of rectangular blocks some 3 metres by 4 metres. To these blocks were attached, one by one, steel hawsers and chains. This done, the steamer downstream went full speed astern. It invariably took several pulls to detach a block, and in some instances as many as nine were necessary. Both hawsers and chains kept constantly breaking, although the former were calculated to stand a strain of 35 tons per square inch, and the latter as much as 60 tons. As soon as a block was detached from the mass, it was allowed to float downstream. It was curious to see the green reeds and papyrus which had been confined beneath it reappear on the surface of the water. A horrible stench prevailed from the rotting vegetation.’
In 1900-1901 four more blocks were removed. An experiment was made to break up one of the blocks by means of explosives, but it was found that the sudd, though very solid, was too elastic, and the only effect was to make large holes in it and no more. The old method had to be oncemore resorted to. By the end of 1901 only 23 miles of the channel remained uncleared, but this proved to be the most difficult of all. One block was actually 7 miles in length. Portions of the sudd had rotted, and, sinking to the bottom, completely filled up the channel, so that there was no stream at all, and it was impossible to tow pieces away and float them downstream by the usual process. To get up the river it is still necessary to go round by a series of lagoons, in which navigation is difficult, and operations have been suspended for the present.
The sudd in the Bahr el Ghazal was much easier to remove, and great progress has been made, so that now the whole of that river is free, and boats can even ascend the Jur River to Wau.
It is very difficult to ascertain the precise effect of the removal of the sudd on the water-level in Egypt. But it is certain that as each block was removed a quantity of water drained off the marshes and helped to diminish the fall of the river in summers of very small supply. Most of this water, spread out over a large surface, must otherwise have been evaporated and lost altogether. There can be no doubt that the improvement of the channel has been a permanent gain to Egypt of a very substantial kind, to say nothing of the advantage to the Soudan from the opening up of such an important line of communication. Those who laboured at the task deserve the highest praise. The river was so low that all communication with Khartoum was cut off for several months, and transport of supplies was always difficult. Besides this, the climate is always unhealthy, andthe mosquitoes at night are almost beyond endurance.
Under present conditions it will require constant care and watchfulness, especially in years of high flood, to prevent the sudd from frequently obstructing the river. But if the danger is to be permanently removed, the main channel must be so much improved by widening and deepening it that it will carry a greater volume. This will at the same time prevent the water from being dissipated in the marshes, and diminish the chances of any obstruction. The necessity for some work of this kind, if there is to be a reservoir at Lake Albert or Lake Victoria, has already been referred to. The clearing of the sudd is only the essential preliminary to the greater scheme.
One point remains to be noticed. Under the old basin system in Egypt there could hardly be too high a flood, nor did a low summer Nile create any extraordinary difficulties when there was so little summer cultivation. But with perennial irrigation a high flood becomes a matter of supreme anxiety, and the preservation of its dykes is the anxious care of every village. On the other hand, all the schemes for reservoirs aim at increasing the summer supply. If the Bahr el Gebel was trained so as to bring down more water in summer, it would also bring down more in flood, though the swamps would still act as an escape for the waters beyond a certain rise. It might therefore become a matter of great importance to Egypt to actually diminish the supply during the flood, especially as year by year more of the basin land is converted to perennial irrigation. Regulators at Lakes Victoriaand Albert would serve in some degree for flood protection as well as for storage against summer use. It is calculated that the complete closing of the outlet of Lake Victoria at the Ripon Falls would only raise the surface of the lake 20 inches in a year. But it would be far more effective if some of the flood-waters of the rivers—e.g., the Blue Nile and the Atbara—which are fed by the rains of Abyssinia could be intercepted before they reached Egypt. A large irrigation during the flood and early winter along the Blue Nile might indeed actually lengthen out the flood in Egypt, whilst depriving it of danger through excess at any one period.
Itis no longer possible to think of our occupation of Egypt as merely a stepping-stone on the road to India—‘the Englishman reaching far over to his loved India.’ Still less can it be looked upon solely as a means for the regeneration of Egypt and the education of her people till they are able to pass from a state of tutelage and stand securely by themselves. Certainly, great strides have been made in this direction. If Egypt were the whole matter we might hope that in time, but not in one or two generations, a race of native administrators might rise up, to whom the affairs of that country might safely be left. But Egypt is only a portion of the great country of the Nile. Looking southward from Alexandria or Suez, the horizon is only bounded by the sources of the Nile, and these do not well up at Assouan, as Herodotus was told. We might hope that the Egyptians would be capable of managing Egypt; but not the most sanguine enthusiast could imagine a period of time sufficient to make them capable of managing the Soudan. A cry of ‘The Soudan for the Soudanese’ would hardly be more ridiculous. The story of the binding of the Nile, incomplete as that story is at present, makes one thing, at least, perfectly clear,and that is, that all Nileland is one country. No divided sovereignty is possible; there must be one firm hand over all.
It would have needed a preternaturally keen eye to perceive that from the moment we began to patch the old Barrage the occupation of the whole Valley of the Nile was inevitable. Looking back, it is easy to see how it all followed in logical sequence. Everything depended on the Nile. The more Egypt was developed, the greater grew the need for the regulation of the water. The rulers of Egypt need have troubled little about the fate of countries divided from them by so many leagues of rainless desert, but for the link of the all-important river.
It sounds a far cry from the snows of Ruwenzori, the lakes and swamps of Equatorial Africa, or the rain-swept hills of Abyssinia, to the cotton-mills of Lancashire. The Egyptian peasant, lifting water on to the fields of the Delta, knows that the connection is close enough. We have our own direct commercial interest in holding the Valley of the Nile, and Egypt is still on the road to India. Apart, therefore, from the duties which rest upon us as a civilized Power, we are doubly responsible for the welfare of the people of the Nileland.
Fifty years ago a distinguished English sailor travelled to Khartoum and El Obeid, and published an account of his journey in a little volume entitled ‘A Ride across the Nubian Desert.’ In eloquent words he describes the wonders of the Nile’s course, and continues:
‘Surely the hand of the Almighty has traced it across the desert that it might be the union of distant nations. . . .Its mission is not yet accomplished; it is waiting to be the road to civilize Africa. But it is not an Eastern nation, and not the Mohammedan religion that can do it; and I am one of those who hope and believe that Providence will destine it for England. An English Government and a handful of Englishmen could do it. Cities would rise up at Assouan and Khartoum, whose influence would be felt over the whole interior. . . . I know, alas! the spirit of the age is against such thoughts, and there are even men who would wish to abandon our Empire; but I speak the voice of thousands of Englishmen who, like myself, have served their country abroad, and who do not love her least, who will never consent to relinquish an Empire that has been won by the sword, and who think the best way to preserve it is often by judicious extension.’
‘Surely the hand of the Almighty has traced it across the desert that it might be the union of distant nations. . . .Its mission is not yet accomplished; it is waiting to be the road to civilize Africa. But it is not an Eastern nation, and not the Mohammedan religion that can do it; and I am one of those who hope and believe that Providence will destine it for England. An English Government and a handful of Englishmen could do it. Cities would rise up at Assouan and Khartoum, whose influence would be felt over the whole interior. . . . I know, alas! the spirit of the age is against such thoughts, and there are even men who would wish to abandon our Empire; but I speak the voice of thousands of Englishmen who, like myself, have served their country abroad, and who do not love her least, who will never consent to relinquish an Empire that has been won by the sword, and who think the best way to preserve it is often by judicious extension.’
On many a stricken field the author of these prophetic words, Captain Sir William Peel, V.C., the hero of the Naval Brigade in the Crimea and the Mutiny, proved the sincerity of that love for his country of which he spoke so warmly. And now, after so many years and so many vicissitudes of fortune, an English Government and a handful of Englishmen are grappling with the work on which his heart was set.
PART IITHE NEW SOUDAN
Aswith modern Egypt, so with the modern Soudan: the name of the Albanian tobacco-seller is writ large upon the pages of her history. In spite of the ancient connection between Egypt and Ethiopia, in spite of the dependence of Egypt upon the Soudan for her water, the warlike tribes of the south remained for more than 1,000 years free from any attempt at domination by their neighbours. It was Mehemet Ali who, in the year 1819, laid the foundations of the empire which reached its furthest limits under the Khedive Ismail, an empire of which the brief but disastrous history brought nothing but misery and ruin to the Soudanese, and made the Soudan a name of fear and trembling to every Egyptian peasant.
AboutA.D.700 Arabs of the tribe of Beni Omr, driven out of Arabia, crossed the Red Sea, and began to settle about Sennar, on the Blue Nile. By degrees these fugitives, reinforced by other tribes, some from Arabia direct, some, it is said, by way of Egypt and the countries further west, swelled to an invading host and permeated the whole of the Northern Soudan, and the original inhabitants were largely converted to Islam. Inthe Sennar region the two principal negro tribes were the Fung and the Hameg. The conquerors, while they imposed their language and religion on the conquered, seemed to have been absorbed into their ranks; for the distinction between Arab and negro diminished, and the old tribal names reappeared. In 1493 Amara Dunkas, a sheikh of one of the Fung tribes, was recognised as king of all the Fungs, and conquered all the country on both sides of the Blue Nile from Khartoum to Fazokhl. The negroes who remained in the country were merged in the Fungs. The remainder emigrated to the mountains of Southern Kordofan, where, under the name of Nubas, they have ever since maintained themselves in a somewhat precarious independence against the raids of the Arabs of the plains. About the same time was founded the Sultanate of Darfur, which in time extended its dominion to the banks of the Nile. South of these two powers the Shilluks and other negro tribes continued, as before, generally engaged in some petty warfare, and regarded as a convenient reservoir of slaves by their Arab neighbours.
The Fung dynasty lasted 300 years, and attained a very considerable position. AboutA.D.1600 in the reign of Adlan, Sennar even became famous for learning, and was the resort of many scientists and philosophers from Cairo and Bagdad. In the reign of King Baadi, 1719-1758, the fame of the kingdom of Sennar reached its height. A quarrel arose with Abyssinia on account of some presents from the King of France which had been intercepted by Baadi. The Abyssinian King invaded Sennar with a great host, but met with the mostsignal defeat. So great an event was heralded throughout the Mohammedan East. The bazaars of Constantinople and Delhi were alike filled with the renown of Sennar. Once more crowds of learned and celebrated men flocked into the country from every quarter. But it was the last flicker of sunlight before the night fell. Baadi himself was deposed and exiled on account of his bad administration. The Hameg tribe, long subject to the Fungs, began to lift their heads. By 1790 the kingdom of the Fungs had disappeared, and for thirty years the Hameg continued supreme. Fire and sword was their sole notion of supremacy; it was no mere theory with them. The country was utterly given over to anarchy when Mehemet Ali determined to interfere.
The motives that prompted him were many; possibly, ardent irrigationist that he was, the desire to secure the upper waters of the Nile may have been among them; but beyond a doubt, like Cambyses of old, his principal object was gold. Extraordinary rumours were current as to an El Dorado in the south. Every officer and man who took part in the expedition entertained the most extravagant notions of gold-strewn districts. By means of this, and also by securing the profitable traffic in slaves, Mehemet hoped to be able to win sufficient resources to carry out his ambitious schemes in Asia and Europe. It was also very convenient at the moment to find employment for his irregular troops. It would be a mistake, however, to explain his action wholly by such reasons as these. All through his life ran the dream of posing as a second Napoleon. It is curious to findthat along with the army he sent a number of learned men and skilled artisans, while it was announced that the object of the invasion was to introduce the benefits of a regular government of civilization. Mehemet Ali had closely studied the methods of his great model.
But of all these designs only one, and that the worst, was destined to be fulfilled. The slave-trade had always flourished in the Soudan. The Arab States were founded upon slavery. Along the great Arbain road, the desert ‘track of the forty days’ from Darfur to Assiout, yearly caravans containing slaves as well as other merchandise passed into Egypt; the Nile route served the same purpose, and from the Red Sea ports there was a constant export trade to Arabia and Turkey. All this was nothing compared to the dimensions which the trade assumed under Egyptian rule. It became practically the sole trade of the country; it reached like a pestilential blight even as far as the Equator. Bitterly did the Soudan suffer for the Napoleonic ideas of Mehemet, and bitter, but deserved, was the penalty which Egypt had to pay for her misgovernment in the end. Even to-day among the remotest tribes the name of ‘Turk’ stands for loathing and terror.
The army, commanded by Ismail, son of the Viceroy, reached Sennar without opposition. Thence, accompanied by his brother Ibrahim, he advanced to Fazokhl in search of the famous gold-mines in the Beni Shangul. But the gold proved disappointing. Ibrahim returned to Egypt, destined to win fame as the butcher of the Peloponnese in the Greek War of Independence. TheArabs rose against Ismail, and he had to return to defeat them. Unsuccessful in his quest for gold, he had devoted all his energy to the slave-trade, but his cruelties and barbarities were too much even for a people familiar with the Hameg. The local chief at Shendi, appropriately named El Nemr (the Tiger), invited him to a banquet. While he and his followers, contrary to the precepts of their own Koran, drank freely of the forbidden wine, straw was silently piled high about the house and fired. To a man they perished in the flames.
Meantime, Achmet Bey, the Defterdar, had conquered the province of Kordofan from the Sultan of Darfur. Hearing of Ismail’s fate, he marched towards Shendi to avenge him. The story of what happened, as told by the Egyptians, wears an ugly look. The details are wanting, but, at any rate, few were left to tell the other side of the story. At Metemmeh, on the bank of the Nile opposite Shendi, the people sent messengers to sue for pardon. It was granted. But when the Defterdar marched into the town a lance was thrown at him. The pardon was at once rescinded, and a general massacre ensued. El Nemr himself, however, had fled to Abyssinia. He, at any rate, had no faith in Egyptian promises. The Defterdar then marched towards Khartoum, and at Tuti Island another great slaughter took place. It was a bad beginning. To the native Soudanese the distinction between the benefits of a regular government of civilization and the fire and sword of the Hameg must have seemed slight indeed.
To build aright on such foundations would havebeen difficult for a nation of born administrators. For the Egyptians it was impossible. There were among the Egyptian Governors of the Soudan honest and righteous men, but, amid a crowd of officials bred and trained in an atmosphere of corruption and slavery, their spasmodic efforts after good only gave fresh opportunities for evil. Military stations were established in various parts of the country for the sake of security, and they became fountains of slave recruits to swell the ranks of the army. The navigation of the White Nile was declared free, and it became the favourite route of the slave-traders. Khartoum, from a village of skins and reeds, rose to be a city of bricks and the capital of the Soudan, but also a convenient and central market for a huge slave-trade. The Abyssinians, who espoused the cause of the Sennar rebels, were beaten back into their mountains, but the savage methods of warfare only brutalized and demoralized the victors. It speaks volumes for the barbarous character of the times that when Adlan, the leader of the Abyssinians, was captured by Kurshid, reputed the best of the Governors of the Soudan, he was immediately impaled. The annals of these years are filled with stories of famine and rebellion, and, to add to the general desolation, cholera and other diseases constantly ravaged the country.
But worse was to come. Down to 1853 the southernmost Egyptian station was only 120 miles south of Khartoum. The annexed provinces of Kordofan, Sennar, and Kassala (or Taka) groaned under oppression and tyranny, but the negro inhabitants of the Upper White Nile and the Bahrel Ghazal were still comparatively unmolested. In that year the English Consul in the Soudan started a trading expedition up the river. Other traders followed, who established stations far up the country. Peaceful trading soon succumbed to the temptations of the slave-trade. For the sake of protection, it began to be found necessary to employ bands of armed Arabs or Nubians. Gradually the European traders disappeared; by 1860 the last of them had sold their stations to their Arab agents. No greater curse was ever let loose upon a country than these human locusts, and the Egyptian Government was directly responsible. Under the shallow pretence of legitimate commerce, trading monopolies were leased to these traders in various districts. The fact that the Government had not a shadow of claim even by right of conquest to the territories leased was no obstacle. All the country south of Kordofan and Darfur along the White Nile or the Bahr el Ghazal was regarded as peculiarly suitable for these nefarious bargains. The Khartoumers, as they were called, because they had their headquarters in the capital, established themselves everywhere, and became practically independent potentates. With their armed bands of brigands they raided the native tribes, and even used them to fight against each other. Only the Dinkas, protected by the impenetrable marshes of the sudd region, and the powerful and warlike Azande, or Niam-Niam, in the south, were able to maintain themselves. But the Bongo, a numerous and peaceful agricultural people, were easily reduced. The fact that they had attained a higher civilizationthan their neighbours (for they smelted the iron found in their swamps with furnaces of clay and rude bellows, and worked it with stone hammers on anvils of granite, made pottery, and even had some acquaintance with surgery) only made them the more valuable in the slave-market. The Jur, Dembo, and Golo tribes were likewise among the principal sufferers. Anarchy is but a mild term for the condition of affairs.
Some of these unhappy victims may have heard the news on their way to the northern slave-market that slavery was abolished in the Soudan. If so, it cannot have done much to sweeten their bondage or to heal the strokes of the lash, yet a viceregal decree to that effect had been solemnly promulgated at Berber in 1857. It was characteristic of many of the descendants of Mehemet Ali that they inherited great part of his intellectual vigour and wide sweep of imagination without any of his executive capacity. Said Pasha, who became Viceroy in 1854, visited the Soudan and clearly recognised the failure of his foreign empire. A large force had to be maintained to screw exorbitant demands out of a discontented population. Agriculture was depressed, and every other industry was perishing under a system of taxation vicious in itself, and collected by methods which might have made a Verres blush. He determined to evacuate the country. But the burden of the Soudan, so lightly taken up in greed of gain, was not to be so lightly laid aside. Egypt was now holding a wolf by the ears. The officials who battened on the ruin of the country opposed a strenuous resistance. Things had come to such a pass that thesheikhs and notables of the provinces themselves feared that the withdrawal of one devil would be followed by the entry of many. Said contented himself with reorganizing the government and announcing a number of reforms of a drastic and far-reaching nature, and then returned to Egypt. It was the first of many reorganizations and many reforms, all of which were as effective as the decree for the abolition of slavery. The plan of much talking and little doing became a fixed principle of Soudan policy.
The story of the tax on sakiehs (water-wheels) affords a good illustration of Egyptian methods. One of Said’s reforms was to fix this tax at 200 piastres per annum. In less than nine years it had risen to 500 piastres. Jaaffar Pasha, who finally raised it to this extent, declared openly that he fixed it at that rate in order to see how much the peasants would really pay, and he hoped after a three years’ trial to be able to arrive at a just assessment. It was not a very scientific plan of taxation in any case, but, unfortunately, Jaaffar was removed before the scheme had time to work out, and his successors, absolutely indifferent to his motives, retained the tax, and even further increased it. It was calculated that on average land the tax often far exceeded the net returns for one sakieh. Even a ruined wheel was liable to the full amount, and if an owner returned to it after an interval he was saddled with the whole of the arrears. On the same principle taxes continued to be charged on land and trees that had long since been carried away by the floods. The natural results followed. Many cultivators were ruined and reduced tobeggary, others fled the country, and much land went out of cultivation. In 1881 more than 2,000 sakiehs were lying derelict in Berber and Dongola.
By the time Ismail Pasha came to the throne in 1863 it had become abundantly clear that the Egyptians were unfit to govern the Soudan. It looked as though in a few years the whole country would have become a wilderness, totally uninhabited save for a few wanderers, whose sole occupation would be selling each other into slavery. And yet the next few years witnessed an enormous extension of the Egyptian Empire, and Ismail himself enjoyed, until the bubble burst, a great reputation as a genuine and whole-hearted reformer. Nor was that reputation wholly undeserved. Strange compound that he was of vast ambitions but changeable resolution, of far-reaching sagacity but reckless carelessness, a Westerner in the conception of his ideals but an Oriental in every sense in his pursuit of them, he proved himself in his treatment of the Soudan, as in other spheres, to possess many of the elements of greatness. If he failed, it was partly because the evil was beyond cure: the impending catastrophe was too great to be averted. His employment of Baker and Gordon and other Europeans showed that he realized the incapacity of Egypt to perform the task by herself. That was in itself a great step forward; undoubtedly it staved off for a little the day of retribution. His eager support of the project of a railway to Khartoum, first mooted by his predecessor, Said, showed a sound appreciation of the position, though his ineffective attempts to carry it out showed his weakness as clearly. But the wholehierarchy of Egyptian officialdom was rotten to the core. The best of rulers without good ministers is predestined to failure.
To add to a falling house must always be a desperate remedy. No other course seemed open to Ismail, if he was really to cope with the slave-trade. So long as the basin of the Upper Nile remained in the hands of the ‘Khartoumers,’ the sources of the traffic flowed as briskly as ever, and at the same time the Red Sea ports afforded every facility for export. Accordingly, in 1866 Ismail purchased the districts of Suakin and Massowah from the Turks by an increase of tribute. In 1869 he took a still more important step, and determined to annex the whole basin of the Nile. He invested Sir S. Baker with absolute and despotic powers over the whole country south of Gondokoro. No better choice could have been made. An administrator of the best type, energetic and high-minded, Baker was also no stranger to the scene of his mission. He had already in 1861 conducted an expedition up the White Nile to join hands with Speke and Grant in their investigations of the sources of the Nile, and in 1864 he had discovered the Albert Nyanza.
A strong man was needed. The Khedive seemed in earnest, but he was occupied with the Suez Canal and other matters nearer home. His representatives in Khartoum took quite another view; it was the custom of the Soudan Government to take away with one hand what it gave with the other. Baker’s appointment bore the ominous date of April 1, and the fact may well have recurred to him when, on arriving atKhartoum towards the close of the year, he discovered that the territory he was sent to annex had already been leased by the Governor-General to a couple of notorious slave-dealers. Every conceivable obstacle was put in his way by the officials. But, in spite of all opposition, he organized his expedition, and after a journey of incredible difficulty and labour, for the real channel of the river was blocked by sudd, he reached Gondokoro in May, 1871, and formally annexed it as ‘Ismailia.’ Next year he passed south, and proclaimed Unyoro an Egyptian province, organized a number of military posts, and entered into friendly relations with M’tesa, King of Uganda. For the time the slave-traffic in these new provinces was crushed. In 1873 Baker returned to Cairo with a record of successful work behind him, which must have astonished no one more than the Khedive himself.
But once the strong hand was removed, the stone which had been heaved uphill with so much labour rolled swiftly down again. Less than a year elapsed between the departure of Baker and the arrival of Colonel Gordon, on his appointment as Governor-General of Equatoria. Even in that short time the Egyptian occupation had become merely nominal. Two posts only were held, Gondokoro and Fatiko. Three large slave-trading stations were in full swing on the Bahr el Zeraf alone, whilst on the Bahr el Ghazal the notorious Zubehr had established himself as a practically independent potentate, and was even preparing on his own account an invasion of Darfur. The situation called forth Gordon’s fullest energies.Never did he perform better work than during his three years in Equatoria. As far as it could be done under Egyptian supremacy, he checked the slave-trade and laid the foundations of good government. The country was organized and divided into districts with proper garrisons both along the Sobat and the White Nile. The tribes were peaceful and contented. Communication was established with the great lakes; Lake Albert Nyanza was for the first time circumnavigated. A treaty was made with M’tesa, King of Uganda, recognising his independence, and Emin Bey was sent to represent Egypt at his Court. In 1876 Gordon returned to England.
In Egypt, meantime, the Khedive’s reckless extravagance was fast hurrying him to disaster. But the more involved he became, the more he extended his ambitions, like a ruined spendthrift who must keep up his credit at any cost. Extension of his Empire became a mania. After Equatoria came the turn of Darfur in 1874. Darfur had maintained its independence for over 400 years under an unbroken line of Sultans. One of them, Abd-el-Rahman the Just, had entered into correspondence with Napoleon during his occupation of Egypt, and congratulated him upon his defeat of the Mamelukes. Napoleon replied in a remarkable letter:
‘To the Sultan of Darfur, 12 Messidor, Year VII. In the Name of God, compassionate and merciful; there is no other God but God! To the Sultan of Darfur, Abd-el-Rahman.‘I have received your letter, and understand its purport. When your caravan arrived I was absent in Syria punishingand destroying my enemies. I pray you send me by the first caravan 2,000 black slaves, over sixteen years of age, healthy and strong. I will buy them from you. Order your caravan to come immediately, without delay. I have given orders for its protection all along the route.‘Bonaparte, ‘Commander-in-Chief.’
‘To the Sultan of Darfur, 12 Messidor, Year VII. In the Name of God, compassionate and merciful; there is no other God but God! To the Sultan of Darfur, Abd-el-Rahman.
‘I have received your letter, and understand its purport. When your caravan arrived I was absent in Syria punishingand destroying my enemies. I pray you send me by the first caravan 2,000 black slaves, over sixteen years of age, healthy and strong. I will buy them from you. Order your caravan to come immediately, without delay. I have given orders for its protection all along the route.
‘Bonaparte, ‘Commander-in-Chief.’
‘Bonaparte, ‘Commander-in-Chief.’
Many motives combined to make Ismail desire the annexation of the country. There were longstanding frontier grievances. Its commerce and slave-trade were still considerable, and Ismail hoped to profit by the one as well as to suppress the other. The copper-mines of Hofrat-en-Nahas in Southern Darfur were also a powerful attraction in view of his failing treasury. They were reported to be extraordinarily rich, with veins standing 2 feet out of the ground. And, since Zubehr could not be prevented from his proposed expedition, the only course seemed to be to join him in the conquest. Accordingly, an expedition was despatched from the north, while Zubehr co-operated from the south. The Sultan and two of his sons were killed in battle, and another troublesome province was added to the Khedive’s dominions. Zubehr was made a Pasha, but was refused the governorship, which he claimed as his right. For a moment he seemed inclined to assert his independence, but in the end he rashly determined to press his case in person at Cairo, leaving his son Suleiman to fill his place in his absence.
The same year saw the annexation of Harrar at the request of the Mohammedans in that country. Raouf Pasha, who had been left in charge at Gondokoro after Baker’s departure, was sent forthat purpose. He showed that he had learnt but little wisdom or mercy from his association with Baker and Gordon, for he commenced his administration by strangling the late Sultan, a wholly unnecessary act. Egyptian territory had been extending down the Red Sea coast for some years previously, at the expense of Abyssinia. Little was gained, except some friction with the King of Abyssinia, for the occupation was generally quite nominal, and the tributes imposed by Egypt were seldom or never paid. Still, Egypt now possessed the coast-line as far as the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb, and the purchase of the port of Zeila from Turkey in 1875 extended her possessions to Cape Guardafui and beyond, and consolidated her position, such as it was, in Harrar, and what is now Somaliland. But even this did not satisfy the Khedive.
Gordon had clearly perceived that it was impossible to properly control the Equatorial provinces without an outlet to the Indian Ocean, to replace the long and precarious line of communication by the Nile. He therefore advised the Khedive to occupy Mombasa from the sea, while he himself co-operated from inland by way of the Victoria Nyanza. Although the difficult nature of the country and the inferior quality of his troops soon convinced Gordon that it was impossible for him to carry out his part in the project, a naval expedition, known as the Juba River Expedition, set out in 1875 under the command of McKillop Pasha. Missing the mouth of the Juba River, which had been selected by the Khedive as their objective, without any great knowledge of thegeography of these regions, they ran further south, but encroached on the territory of the Sultan of Zanzibar. At the instance of Great Britain the expedition was given up, but no objection was raised to the recognition of the Khedive’s authority as far south as the tenth degree of latitude.
It was not long before the folly of all this extravagant expansion began to appear. Abyssinia had had many causes of quarrel with Egypt, and, in fact, the relations between the two countries had consisted of a state of intermittent war or at best armed neutrality since the time of Mehemet Ali. But the purchase of Zeila thoroughly alarmed King John, and he took steps to protect his rights. War followed, disastrous to Egypt. A first army under Arendrup, a Dane, was, after a few preliminary successes, totally annihilated. A second was hastily fitted out and despatched. It was a model of all an army should not be, and had not King John been diverted by the fear of his rebellious vassal, Menelik, it would no doubt have suffered the fate of the first. As it was, it managed to return to Massowah after two or three months’ tedious and inglorious campaigning and one severe defeat.
The falling house had been extended in every direction, but it was falling still. The Abyssinian trouble was not the only sign of weakness. The internal condition of the provinces was as bad as ever; the whole country was restless and disturbed; the feebleness of the Government was increased by the huge distances over which its garrisons were scattered; the slave-trade, openly favoured by the officials whose duty it was tosuppress it, was recovering from the blows which had been dealt it. One more heroic effort was made to set things right. Gordon was recalled to Egypt and made Governor-General of the whole Soudan, including Equatoria and the Red Sea provinces. He was specially charged with the duty of settling matters with Abyssinia, of suppressing the slave-trade, and of improving communications.
It was with the utmost reluctance that Gordon returned to the Soudan. Under existing conditions his task was a hopeless one, and he knew it. His letters show how clearly he foresaw the coming catastrophe. He was aware that, while the Egyptian Government was concluding an anti-slavery convention with England, it was at the same time intriguing almost openly with Zubehr, the prince of slave-dealers. Less than half-hearted support was to be expected from Cairo. At the very moment that he needed them most, great part of his troops were withdrawn to serve in the Russo-Turkish War. Immediately on assuming the reins of government he found himself confronted by a serious rebellion in Darfur; at the same time the slave-dealers in the south were gathering in force under the leadership of Suleiman, Zubehr’s son. But Gordon faced the peril undismayed. His activity was almost superhuman. Hastily patching up a temporary arrangement on the Abyssinian frontier, he travelled to Khartoum by way of Kassala, Gedaref, and Sennar. Here he spent some time in carrying out a number of reforms, and in May set out to deal with the rebellion in Darfur. Darfur had had its firstexperience of Egyptian rule, and Harûn, a member of the deposed royal house, had taken advantage of the general discontent. There flocked also to his standard the nomad Arab tribes, who had stood aloof when Darfur was first conquered, but now saw their hereditary trade threatened. But Gordon in a few months had drawn together his scattered garrisons and scattered the rebels by a display of force. By the almost unsupported exercise of his personal influence he next dispersed the combination of slave-dealers under Suleiman, and by the end of the year he was back again at Khartoum, after another visit to the Abyssinian frontier and a round by Suakin and Berber.
Early in the next year he made the tour of all the Red Sea provinces, including Harrar. But in spite of all this ceaseless activity, the close of the year 1878 found things worse than ever. Trouble was once more stirring on the Abyssinian frontier. The northern provinces were quiet, but their quiet was the torpor of exhaustion. In Darfur Harûn had once more reappeared, and in Kordofan, too, a rising had taken place. In the Bahr el Ghazal Suleiman had this time revolted in good earnest. Only Equatoria was comparatively happy under the rule of Emin. Unyoro had been given up, and the Somerset Nile was now the southern boundary. Gessi had been despatched by Gordon to the Bahr el Ghazal, and in March he himself undertook an expedition to Kordofan and Darfur, with the object of pacifying the country and preventing help being sent to Suleiman. At the same time he made great efforts to put down the slave-trade, and captured many caravans. In June hewas able to return to Khartoum, and left for Cairo to confer with the new Khedive Tewfik. The short remainder of his time as Governor-General was occupied with his mission to Abyssinia, and in December he left for England.
Meantime Gessi had been performing marvels in the Bahr el Ghazal. Gessi is one of the heroic figures of Soudan history. An Italian by birth, he served in the Crimea as interpreter to the British troops. In 1874 he joined Gordon in Central Africa. Thanks to his energy, a dangerous rising of the Shilluks at Fashoda was put down, and it was he who circumnavigated Lake Albert. The rising he had now to face was most serious. Zubehr, before he left for Cairo after the conquest of Darfur, had assembled his officers and made them swear to revolt when he should send them word that the time was ripe. That time was now come. Their organization was complete; their following was numerous and well-equipped; they had already proved the incapacity of the Government troops. It seemed that there was nothing to stop them from dividing the Soudan provinces among themselves, and finally throwing off the yoke of the hated and despised Egyptian. They even announced that they intended to seize Egypt itself. But they had reckoned without Gessi. With a handful of troops, inferior in quality as well as in number, short of supplies and ammunition, impeded by floods and generally cut off from his base by the sudd, in two notable campaigns he utterly broke their power, seized and shot Suleiman and his principal confederates, and completely liberated the Bahr el Ghazal.
His end was characteristic of the fate of those who, in those dark days, dared to serve the best interests of Egypt. In spite of his successful administration of his province, he found his position made impossible for him after Gordon’s departure. In September, 1880, he resigned. After nearly perishing in the sudd, which blocked his steamers, he reached Khartoum. But there, under the new regime, he was no welcome guest. He struggled on to Suez, where he soon after died, unrecognised and unrewarded, utterly worn out by his exertions and privations. When such a man met with such treatment, it was clear that there was no chance of the regeneration of the Soudan under Egyptian rule. The last ray of hope had been extinguished with Gordon’s departure.
Gordon’ssuccessor at Khartoum was Raouf Pasha, the very man whom he had dismissed from his post as Governor of Harrar two years before for oppression and other malpractices. The appointment was not of good augury, and the improvements which had been made in the administration fell rapidly to pieces. The slave-traders began to lift their heads; once more the caravans, with their miserable human freight, began to journey towards Egypt or the Red Sea; once more the horde of tax-collectors felt themselves set free to levy their exactions at their will. The critical position of affairs in Egypt itself was reflected in the Soudan. Economy and retrenchment were the order of the day; under such a Government they were not likely to mean anything else than an increase in the burden on the provinces. Colonel Stewart, in his report on the Soudan, published in 1883, graphically describes the character of the irregular Bashi-Bazouks who were employed to collect the taxes.