[THE Marchand expedition - in which the author of this article, and General Mangin, then junior officers, were both serving set out from the French Congo, crossed Africa, and confronted General Kitchener - then Sirdar of Egypt - at Fashoda when he arrived on the White Nile after his victory over the Sudanese dervishes at Omdurman in 1898. The expedition was dispatched by the French Government to extend French influence on the Upper Nile. The presence of this small force of French troops was designed to support the contention of French diplomats that the region, having been evacuated by Egypt in 1883-4, was now une terre vacante, open to the first colonizing Power that occupied it. The British, on the contrary, claimed it by virtue of Kitchener's victory and also by virtue of the former Egyptian occupation. The military situation was complicated by the fact that the fanatical Sudanese dervishes of the Mahdi Abdullah - who had proclaimed a new Caliphate asserted Sudanese independence, and until their defeat by Kitchener were equally ready to fight either English or French or both. The same territory is to-day in dispute between Egypt and Great Britain.

General Baratier begins his present account at the time when the first attack of the dervishes on the little French force had been beaten off, and before the arrival of Kitchener's AngloEgyptian army. After that event the

peace of the world hung in the balance until at length France yielded all her claims.]

NEws began to go about from mouth to mouth that the dervishes were coming, but as that was all we heard we were not very much worried, in spite of the disturbance among the population. We knew that when the Mahdists really did decide to come they would not send us word in advance. We knew too that they could not surprise us. For calm and confident though we were, our guard was never relaxed day or night. The very slightest suggestion of an enemy was reported with a care that was almost exaggerated.

In any event it was hardly reasonable to suppose that anyone could attack us at that season, for the roads were so impassable that they could hardly be said to exist at all, and the dervishes had not enough steamers to send troops up the Nile to deal with us. The greater part of their expedition would have to follow the roads overland, and that would be impossible for the next two months.

I was giving voice to this very opinion one day after lunch, while shuffling the cards for our usual game of whist, when a breathless Chilluk rushed in. The dervishes were advancing with two steamers and six barges, while a strong column was approaching on foot along the river! Presently messenger after messenger came hurrying in. At first

We should have a force of at least seven thousand men to deal with, although we ourselves were only a hundred and sixty strong, including all our men. We might hold out for a week, but after that

The Chilluks looked at us with an air of pity, just as they had when the dervishes attacked the first time. 'You are brave men, no doubt,' their eyes said clearly, 'but they are too many for you. There will be none of you left tomorrow night.' They really liked us, but it was no use counting on help from them in spite of the protestations of the Grand Mek, who swore to perish at our side. Scarcely had the sun set when the night was filled with furtive sounds. It was the people of the near-by villages making for the woods with their cattle and possessions. Fleeing, poor friends? No matter. You would be only a handi

cap in battle. A single squad of riflemen would be worth a thousand of you. Two of our our usual intelligenceagents, in the full costume of native spies, in other words, without a stitch, their clubs and lances in hand, brought in some extraordinary news. Two soldiers, former Chilluks who had not been seen for fifteen years, had landed with a letter for Major Marchand. They were spending the night in the near-by village and would come to the fort at dawn.

'Look out,' added the prudent AbuGomun, 'they say they are not dervishes, but it is not true. Keep your eyes open the dervishes have more than one trick up their sleeves.' Had the Caliphate then returned to the old practice of the Mahdists, who always sent out a demand for surrender before fighting? At four o'clock in the morning our defenses were manned. At six o'clock a band of Chilluks, among whom we could make out two Negroes in European uniforms, fully armed and wearing magnificent cylindrical military caps with red plumes, emerged from the neighboring village and made for our north bastion. When they reached us, the red-plumed pair came to a regulation port-arms, and one of them held out to Marchand an envelope addressed to the 'Chief of the European Expedition at Fashoda.'

It was a letter from Kitchener, the Sirdar, Commander-in-chief of the Egyptian army and the British forces in the Sudan. Marchand read it aloud:

SIR:

BANUI, September 18, 1898

I have the honor to inform you that on the second of September I attacked the Caliphate at Omdurman and, having destroyed its army, have reoccupied the country. Shortly afterward I left Omdurman with a flotilla of five gunboats and a considerable force

two expeditions to take the treaty to Europe, one by way of the Sobat and Abyssinia, the other by way of the Bahr el Ghazal and Mechra er Rek, where my steamer, the 'Faidherbe,' has been sent with orders to bring me the reënforcements which I regarded as necessary to defend Fashoda against a second attack of the dervishes, stronger than the first, which I expected about the twenty-fifth of this month.

Your arrival has prevented this.

I present my best wishes and welcome you to the Upper Nile. I have noted your intention to come to Fashoda, where I shall be happy to receive you in the name of France.

Accept, General, the expression of my most profound respect.

MARCHAND

The Sirdar had sent his letter to us by native noncommissioned officers. Marchand sent his back by two sergeants, Moriba Keita and Sega Moriba, who took their places with the two Egyptian soldiers in a whaleboat manned by sixteen Yakomas dressed for the occasion in superb red tights. The little boat sped swiftly away with the tricolor fluttering at its stern. The Sirdar would be able to make out at a good distance the nationality of those 'certain Europeans' whom he expected to find at Fashoda.

was

All this was at half-past seven in the morning. An hour later the whole garrison—in the dress uniforms that had been carefully saved for two years with these great days in view under arms to await the arrival of the steamers. At ten o'clock the English flotilla entered the channel of the fort. The 'Sultan' was leading with her guns in battery, the crews at their combat posts. Behind the 'Sultan' came four gunboats towing a dozen enormous double-decked barges carrying the English staff and fifty officers together

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with a battalion of Highlanders and the Tenth and Eleventh Sudanese battalions in all about two thousand men. All the gunboats and dahabeahs flew the Turkish flag except the barge carrying the Highlanders, from which floated the Union Jack. One after another the steamers came to anchor beside the 'Sultan,' facing the fort. On the parapet was drawn up our company of Sudanese riflemen.

We had sent an invitation to the Sirdar to come to Fashoda, and he had accepted it by arriving with his entire squadron just under the walls of our fort, his gun ports open, flags flying, artillery ready. All this display made no great impression on our riflemen. Sergeant Moriba had let the Sirdar know as much. As a matter of fact, after looking over Marchand's report brought in the whaleboat, Kitchener had questioned Moriba who, he thought, must be thunderstruck by the display of his forces:

'Are there many of you at Fashoda?' Our brave soldier replied: 'A good many.'

'But,' Kitchener went on, 'how many?'

'At least a hundred and fifty,' said Moriba as proudly as if there had been a hundred thousand men.

'But,' said Kitchener, 'you 'll die of hunger up here. You have n't any supplies.'

With his big eyes staring straight at him, our Moriba fired back without hesitation: 'We have supplies for ten years.'

The English manœuvre was completed, the boats were moored gunwale to gunwale, artillery bristled in every direction, Highlanders and Egyptians jostled one another at the bulwarks to stare at those 'certain Europeans' who had so far forgotten themselves as to arrive before the British. A small boat put off from the 'Sultan.' Two English

officers, khaki clad, helmeted, with their revolvers at their hips and swords at their sides, had taken their place in it and were rowing to the bank. Marchand received them in a little cabin that served us as a mess hall. One of the two officers acted as spokesman and introduced the other.

'Sir, I have the honor to present Commander Keppel, commanding the flotilla. I am Major Cecil [he was the son of Lord Cecil]. The Sirdar desires you to visit him on board his vessel in order that he may get in touch with the French representative.'

'Monsieur le Major,' replied Marchand, 'be so good as to say to the Sirdar that, as I owe him the first visit, I shall be with him instantly.'

The two officers withdrew and Marchand, accompanied by Germain, followed hard upon them to the Sirdar's steamer. On the long rear deck Kitchener was standing — a big dry-looking man with a red face, pale-blue eyes, vague and rather dull. He seemed nervous and agitated. Beside him Beside him stood Colonel Wingate, Chief of the Intelligence Department, a little man with developing embonpoint, polite but of a glacial stiffness. Marchand introduced himself and presented Germain. The Sirdar shook hands and complimented them on the trip we had made across Africa. He presented Wingate and the conversation began. The great man was very much embarrassed and found it hard to express himself, for though he talked very good French the subject of the conversation was not exactly easy. He finally wound up with a sufficiently unfortunate sentence in the interrogative:

'You understand, Commandant, the significance of your presence at Fashoda?'

'I understand it, mon Général.'

'Well, then it is my duty to protest in the name of the Sublime Porte and His Highness the Khedive, whom I represent, against your presence in Fashoda.' A new inclination of the head.

'As you see, Commandant, I have numerous forces behind me. It is, no doubt, your intention to maintain the occupation of Fashoda.'

'It is certain, mon Général, that I cannot pretend to compare our forces with yours, but you will admit that, having taken possession of Fashoda by order of my Government, I can withdraw only when the order is reversed. I shall therefore remain here until I receive such an order, and I may add that, if necessary, we shall die on the spot rather than -'

The Sirdar stopped Marchand.

'Oh, Commandant, there is no occasion for pushing things so far. I understand that you must execute the orders of your Government and I have no intention of opposing you. But you must understand that I too must execute the orders of His Highness the Khedive, and his orders are to display the Egyptian flag at Fashoda. I hope that the two of us can reach an understanding which will enable us to fulfill this formality. After this we may leave things as they are until our two Governments reach their decision.'

The word 'English' was not once pronounced. It was in the name of the Khedive that the Sirdar wished to place the Turkish flag at Fashoda. If

it was brutally supported. Marchand