It may not be possible as yet to fix the exact place which Charles Gordon will occupy in English history.  It is certainly a high one.  Whether he will rank as a commander with Peterborough, Wolfe, and Clive, those who come after us must decide.  We may, however, assert that he was a man of stainless honour and enduring courage, who in varied capacities displayed a fertile and abundant genius.  He was careless alike of the honours and comforts of the world, and looked forward with firm faith to the rewards of a future state.  The severity of his religion did not impair the amiability of his character.  The uncertainty of his moods may have frequently affected the soundness of his opinions, but not often the justice of his actions.  Gordon’s statue, set up in the indignant grief of the nation in the space which is appropriated to the monuments of Great Captains by sea and land, claims the attention of the passer-by, not only because it is comparatively new.  The figure, its pose, and its story are familiar even to the poorest citizens of London and to people from all parts of the United Kingdom.  Serene amid the noise of the traffic, as formerly in that of the battle, the famous General seems still, with bowed head and thoughtful countenance, to revolve the problems of the dark Soudan and, inattentive to the clamour of men, inquires what is acceptable to God.

With the capture of the city and the death of the envoy the reason for the expedition disappeared.  It remained only to withdraw the troops.  The stores which had been brought across the desert at a terrible cost were thrown hastily into the Nile.  The battered steamers which had waited so long at Metemma were hurriedly dismantled.  The Camel Corps, their extraordinary efforts futile and their camels killed, marched back on foot to Korti.  Their retreat was pressed by the exultant enemy.  The River Column, whose boats after months of labour had just cleared the Cataracts, and who had gained a success at Kirbekan, were carried back swiftly by the strong current against which they had hopefully struggled.  The whole Expeditionary Force—­Guards, Highlanders, sailors, Hussars, Indian soldiers, Canadian voyageurs, mules, camels, and artillery—­trooped back forlornly over the desert sands, and behind them the rising tide of barbarism followed swiftly, until the whole vast region was submerged.  For several months the garrison of Kassala under a gallant Egyptian maintained a desperate resistance, but at last famine forced them to surrender, and they shared the fate of the garrisons of El Obeid, Darfur, Sobat, Tokar, Sinkat, Sennar, and Khartoum.  The evacuation of the Soudan was thus completed.

CHAPTER III:  THE DERVISH EMPIRE