[Pg i]

SOUTH AFRICA AND THE
TRANSVAAL WAR

[Pg ii]

[Pg iii]

South Africa
and the
Transvaal War

BY

LOUIS CRESWICKE

AUTHOR OF “ROXANE,” ETC.

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS

IN SIX VOLUMES

VOL. V.—FROM THE DISASTER AT KOORN SPRUIT TO
LORD ROBERTS’S ENTRY INTO PRETORIA

EDINBURGH: T. C. & E. C. JACK

MANCHESTER: KENNETH MACLENNAN, 75 PICCADILLY

[Pg iv]

Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.
At the Ballantyne Press

[Pg v]

CONTENTS—Vol. V.

[Pg vi]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS—Vol. V.

[Pg vii]

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE—Vol. V.

MARCH 1900.

31.—Loss of British convoy and seven
guns at Koorn Spruit.

APRIL 1900.

4.—Capture of British troops by the
Boers near Reddersburg.

5.—General Villebois killed near Boshop,
and party of Boer mercenaries
captured by Lord Methuen.

General Clements received the submission
of 4000 rebels.

British occupation of Reddersburg.

7.—Skirmish near Warrenton.

9.—Colonial Division attacked at Wepener.

11.—General Chermside promoted to
command Third Division, vice
General Gatacre, ordered home.

20.—Boer positions attacked at Dewetsdorp.

23.—General Carrington arrived at
Beira.

25.—Wepener siege raised.

General Chermside occupied Dewetsdorp.

Bloemfontein Waterworks recaptured.

26.—Sir C. Warren appointed Governor
of Griqualand West.

27.—Thabanchu occupied.

28.—Fighting near Thabanchu Mountain.

MAY 1900.

1.—General Hamilton captured Houtnek.

5.—British occupation of Brandfort.

Lord Roberts’s further advance to
the Vet River.

6.—The Vet River passed and Smaldeel
occupied.

7.—General Hunter occupied Fourteen
Streams.

8.—Ladybrand deserted by the Boers.

9.—Capture of Welgelegen.

Mafeking Relief Force reached Vryburg.

10.—Battle of Zand River.

Occupation of Ventersburg.

12.—Lord Roberts occupied Kroonstad
without resistance.

Commandant Eloff attacked Mafeking,
and was captured by Col.
Baden-Powell.

13.—General Buller advanced towards the
Biggarsberg.

14.—Occupation of Dundee.

15.—Occupation of Glencoe.

Mafeking Relief Force defeated the
Boers at Kraaipan.

16.—Christiana occupied.

17.—General Ian Hamilton occupied
Lindley.

Colonel Mahon, at the head of the
relief force, entered Mafeking.

Lord Methuen entered Hoopstad.

18.—Occupation of Newcastle.

20.—Colonel Bethune’s Mounted Infantry
ambushed near Vryheid.

22.—General Ian Hamilton occupied
Heilbron after a series of engagements.
The main army, under
Lord Roberts, pitched its tents
at Honing Spruit, and General
French crossed the Rhenoster to
the north-west of the latter
place.

23.—Rhenoster position turned.

24.—British Army entered the Transvaal,
crossing the Vaal near Parys, unopposed.

27.—The passage of the Vaal was completed
by the British Army.[Pg viii]

28.—Orange Free State formally annexed
under the title of Orange River
Colony.

The Battle of Biddulph’s Berg.

29.—Battle of Doornkop: Boers defeated.

Lord Roberts arrived at Germiston.

Kruger fled his capital at midnight
amid the lamentations of the populace.

30.—Occupation of Utrecht by General
Hildyard.

Sir Charles Warren defeated the
enemy near Douglas.

31.—Battalion of Irish Yeomanry captured
at Lindley.

The British flag hoisted at Johannesburg.

JUNE 1900.

5.—The British flag hoisted in Pretoria.

MAP SHOWING THE LINES OF ADVANCE FROM BLOEMFONTEIN
TO PRETORIA.

(The Rand District and the Movements around Pretoria are shown on Map at p. 186.)

EDINBURGH AND LONDON: T. C. AND E. C. JACK.

[Pg 1]

SOUTH AFRICA AND THE TRANSVAAL WAR

CHAPTER I

THE IMMORTAL HANDFUL[1]

MAFEKING, 18TH MAY 1900

DISASTER AT KOORN SPRUIT

The last volume closed with an account of Colonel
Plumer’s desperate effort to relieve Mafeking on the
31st of March. On that unlucky day events of a tragic,
if heroical, nature were taking place elsewhere. These
have now to be chronicled. On the 18th of March
a force was moved out under the command of Colonel Broadwood
to the east of Bloemfontein. The troops were sent to
garrison Thabanchu, to issue proclamations, and to contribute to
the pacification of the outlying districts. They were also to
secure a valuable consignment of flour from the Leeuw Mills.
The enemy was prowling about, and two commandos hovered[Pg 2]
north of the small detached post at the mills. Reinforcements were
prayed for, and a strong patrol was sent off for the protection of the
post, or to cover its withdrawal in the event of attack. Meanwhile
the enemy was “lying low,” as the phrase is. Whereupon Colonel
Pilcher pushed on to Ladybrand, made a prisoner of the Landdrost,
but, hearing of the advance of an overwhelming number of the foe,
retired with all promptness to Thabanchu. The Boers, with the
mobility characteristic of them, were gathering together their
numbers, determining if possible to prevent any onward move of
the forces, and bent at all costs on securing for their own comfort
and convenience the southern corner of the Free State, whence the
provender and forage of the future might be expected to come.
Without this portion of the grain country to fall back on, they knew
their activities would be crippled indeed.

In consequence, therefore, of the close proximity of these Federal
hordes, Colonel Broadwood made an application to head-quarters
for reinforcements, and decided to remove from Thabanchu. On
Friday the 30th he marched to Bloemfontein Waterworks, south of
the Modder. His force consisted of the 2nd Cavalry Brigade (10th
Hussars and the composite regiment of Household Cavalry), “Q,”
“T,” and “U” Batteries R.H.A. (formed into two six-gun batteries,
“Q” and “U”), Rimington’s Scouts, Roberts’s Horse, Queensland
and Burma Mounted Infantry. The baggage crossed the river, and
outspanned the same evening. On the following morning at 2 A.M.
the force, having fought a rearguard action throughout the night,
arrived in safety at Sanna’s Post. Here for a short time they
bivouacked, and here for a moment let us leave them.

At this time a mounted infantry patrol was scouring the country.
They were seen by some Boers who were scuttling across country
from the Ladybrand region, and these promptly hid in a convenient
spruit, whence, in the time that remained to them, they planned the
ambush that was so disastrous to our forces and so exhilarating to
themselves. There are differences of opinion regarding this story.
Some believe that the ambush was planned earlier by a skilful
arrangement in concert with the Boer hordes—the hornets of Ladybrand,
whose nest had been disturbed by the invasion of Colonel
Pilcher—who owed Colonel Broadwood a debt. They declare that the
hiding-place was carefully sought out, so that those sheltered therein
should, on a given signal from De Wet, act in accord with others
of their tribe, and blockade the passage of the British, who were
known—everything was known—to be returning to Bloemfontein.

According to Boer reports, the plans for the cutting off and surrounding
of Colonel Broadwood were carefully made out, but only at
the last moment, and if, for once, Boer reports can be believed, the
successful scheme may be looked upon as one of the finest pieces of[Pg 3]
strategy with which De Wet may be accredited. The Boer tale runs
thus: The Dutchman on the 28th, with a commando of 1400 and
four guns and a Maxim-Nordenfeldt, was moving towards Thabanchu
for the purpose of attacking Sanna’s Post, where he believed a force
of 200 of the British to be. He did all his travelling by night, and
found himself on the evening of the 30th at Jan Staal’s farm, on the
Modder River, to the north of Sanna’s Post. Then, in the very
nick of time, he was informed by a Boer runner that Colonel Broadwood’s
convoy was moving from Thabanchu. Quickly a council of
war was gathered together. It was a matter of life or death. De
Wet, with Piet de Wet, Piet Cronje, Wessel, Nell, and Fourie, put
their heads together and schemed. They were doubtless assisted
by the foreign attachés who were present. The result of the
hurried meeting was the division of the Boer force into three commandos.
The General himself, with 400 men, decided to strain
every nerve to reach Koorn Spruit and ensconce himself before the
arrival of the convoy. Being well acquainted with the topography
of the country, the race was possible—400 picked horsemen against
slow-moving, drowsy cattle! The thing was inviting. Success
rides but on the wings of opportunity, and De Wet saw the opportunity
and grabbed it! The rest of the Boers were to dispose
themselves in two batches—500 of them, with the artillery, to plant
themselves N.N.E. of Sanna’s Post, while the remainder took up a
position on the left of their comrades, and extended in the direction
of the Thabanchu road.

It was wisely argued that Broadwood’s transport must cross
Koorn Spruit, and that if the Boers were posted so as to shell the
British camp at daybreak, the convoy would be hurried on, while
the bulk of the force remained to guard the rear.

Accordingly, the conspirators, with amazing promptitude, got
under way, the four guns with the commando being double-horsed
and despatched to the point arranged on the N.N.E. of Sanna’s
Post, while the other galloped as designed. Fortune favoured them,
for they reached their destinations undiscovered; and the scheme,
admirable in conception, was executed with signal success.

Day had scarcely dawned before the Boers near the region of
the waterworks apprised the convoy of their existence. The British
kettles were boiling, preparations for breakfast were briskly going
forward, when, plump!—a shell dropped in their midst. Consternation
prevailed. Something must be done. The artillery? No;
the British guns were useless at so long a range. As well have
directed a penny squirt at a garden hose! All that was to be
thought of was removal—and that with all possible despatch.
Scurry and turmoil followed. Mules fought and squealed and
kicked, horses careered and plunged, but at last the convoy and two[Pg 4]
horse batteries were got under way, while the mounted infantry
sprayed out to screen the retreat. All this time shells continued to
burst and bang with alarming persistency. They came from across
the river, and consequently it was imagined that every mile gained
brought the convoy nearer to Bloemfontein and farther from the
enemy. They had some twenty miles to go. Still, the officers who
had charge of the party believed the coast to be clear. After moving
on about a mile they approached a deep spruit—a branch of the
Modder, more morass than stream. It was there that De Wet and
his smart 400 had artfully concealed themselves.

The spruit offered every facility for the formation of an ingenious
trap. The ground rose on one side toward a grassy knoll, on the
slopes of which was a stony cave from which a hidden foe could
command the drifts. So admirably concealed was this enclosure and
all that it enclosed, that the leading scouts passed over the drift
without suspecting the presence of the enemy. These latter, true to
their talent of slimness, made no sign till waggons and guns had safely
entered the drift, and were, so to speak, inextricably in their clutches.

Their manœuvre was entirely successful. Some one said the
waggons were driven into the drift exactly as partridges are driven
to the gun. Another gave a version of very much the same kind.
He said, “It was just like walking into a cloak-room—the Boers
politely took your rifle and asked you kindly to step on one side,
and there was nothing else you could do!”

The nicety of the situation from the Boer point of view was
described by a correspondent of The Times:—

“The camp was about three miles from the drift, which lay
in the point of a rough angle made by an embankment under construction
and the bush-grown sluit which converged towards it.
Thus when the Boers were in position, lining the sluit and the
embankment, the position became like the base of a horse’s foot.
The Boers were the metal shoe, our own troops the frog. At the
point where the drift cuts the sluit the nullah is broad and extensive.
The Boers stationed at this spot realised that the baggage was
moving without an advanced guard. They were equal to the situation.
As each waggon dropped below the sky-line into the drift the
teamsters were directed to take their teams to right or left as the
case might be, and the guards were disarmed under threat of
violence. No shot was fired. Each waggon in turn was captured
and placed along the sluit, so that those in rear had no knowledge
of what was taking place to their front until it became their turn to
surrender. To all intents and purposes the convoy was proceeding
forward. The scrub and high ground beyond the drift was sufficient
to mask the clever contrivance of the enemy. Thus all the waggons
except nine passed into the hands of the enemy.[Pg 5]”

The waggons, numbering some hundred, had no sooner
descended to the spruit and got bogged there than, from all sides
sprung up as from the earth, Boers with rifles at the present,
shouting—“Hands up. Give up your bandoliers.” A scene of
appalling confusion followed. Some cocked their revolvers. Others
were weaponless. So unsuspecting of danger had they been that
their rifles, for comfort’s sake, had been stowed on the waggons, the
better to allow of freedom to assist in other operations of transport.
Some men of the baggage guard shouldered their rifles; others,
from under the medley of waggons, still strove ineffectually to show
fight. The Boers were unavoidably in the ascendant. The hour
and the opportunity were theirs.

Plan—Disaster at Koorn Spruit.

At this time up came U Battery, with Roberts’s Horse on their
left. The battery was surrounded, armed Boers roared—“You
must surrender!” and then, sharp and clear, the first shot rang
through the air. This was said to have been fired by Sergeant
Green, Army Service Corps, who, refusing to surrender, had shot his
antagonist, and had instantly fallen victim to his grand temerity. The
drivers of the batteries were ordered to dismount, but as gunners
don’t dismount graciously to order of the foe, the tragedy pursued
its course. Major Taylor, commanding the battery, however, succeeded
in galloping off to warn the officer commanding Q Battery of
the catastrophe. Meanwhile, in that serene and pastoral spruit
reigned fire and fury and the clash of frenzied men. Down went
a horse—another, another. Then man after man—groaning and
reeling in their agony. Many in the spruit lay dead. At this[Pg 6]
time the troop of Roberts’s Horse had appeared on the scene, and
were called on to surrender. Realising the disaster, they wheeled
about, and galloped to report and bring assistance. This was the
signal for more volleys from the enemy in the spruit, and the horsemen
thus sped between two fires—that of the Mausers below them
and of the shells which had continued to harry the troops. Nevertheless
the gallant fellows rode furiously for dear life on their
journey. Men dropped from their saddles like ripe fruit from a shaken
tree. Still they sped on. They must bring help at any price.
Meanwhile the scene in the spruit was one of horror, for the Boers
were sweeping every nook and corner with their Mausers. Cascades
of fire played on the unfortunate mass therein entangled, on waggons
overturned and squealing mules, on guns and horses hopelessly heaped
together, on men and oxen sweating and plunging in death-agony.
The heaving, struggling, horrific picture was too grievous for description.
Only a part of their terrible experience was known by even
the actors themselves. Luckily, a merciful Providence allows each
human intelligence to gauge only a certain amount of the awful in
tragic experience. There are some who told of wounded men lying
blood-bathed and helpless beneath baggage that weighed like the
stone of Sisyphus; of horses that uttered weird screams of agonised
despair, which petrified the veins of hearers and sent the current of
blood to their hearts; of oxen and mules that stamped and kicked,
dealing ugly wounds, so that those who might have crawled out
from under them could crawl no more. Some guns were overturned—a
hopeless bulk of iron, that resisted all efforts at removal;
others, bereft of their drivers, were dragged wildly into space by
maddened teams, whose happy instinct had caused them to
stampede. Seeing the disaster, they had pulled out to left and
struggled to get back to camp, yet even as they struggled they
were disabled and thus left at the mercy of the foe.

Major Burnham, the famous scout, who having been taken a
prisoner earlier and at this juncture remained powerless in the
hands of the Boers, thus described the terrible sight which he was
forced to witness:—

“One of the batteries (Q), which was upon the outside of the
three-banked rows of waggons, halted at the spruit, dashed off,
following Roberts’s Horse to the rear and south. Yet most of them
got clear, although horses and men fell at every step, and the guns
were being dragged off with only part of their teams, animals
falling wounded by the way. Then I saw the battery, when but
1200 yards from the spruit, wheel round into firing position, unlimber,
and go into action at that range, so as to save comrades and
waggons from capture. Who gave the order for that deed of self-sacrifice
I don’t know. It may have been a sergeant or lieutenant,[Pg 7]
for their commanding officer had been left behind at the time. One
of the guns upset in wheeling, caused by the downfall of wounded
horses. There it lay afterwards, whilst three steeds for a long time
fought madly to free themselves from the traces and the presence
of their dead stable companions.”

Those of the unfortunate men who were uninjured struggled
grandly to save the guns, to drag them free from the scene of
destruction, but several of the guns whose teams were shot fell
into the hands of the enemy. Some gallant fellows of Rimington’s
Scouts made a superb effort to rush through the fire of the Federals
and save them, but five guns only were rescued. These were all guns
of Q Battery, which, when the first alarm was given, were within 300
yards of the spruit. When the officer who commanded the battery
strove to wheel about, though the Boers took up a second position
and poured a heavy fire on the galloping teams, a wheel horse was
shot, over went a gun, more beasts dropped, a waggon was rendered
useless, but still the teams that remained were galloped through the
confusion to the shelter of some tin buildings, part of an unfinished
railway station, some 1150 yards from the disastrous scene. Here
a new era began. Much to the amazement of the Boers, the guns
came into action, and continued, in the face of horrible carnage, to
make heroic efforts at retaliation, the officers themselves assisting in
serving the guns till ordered to retire. At this time Q Battery was
assailed by a terrific cross fire, and gradually the numbers of the
gunners and horses became thinned, till the ground, covered with
riderless steeds and dismounted and disabled men, presented a
picture of writhing agony and stern heroism that has seldom been
equalled. But the splendid effort had grand results.

No sooner were the British guns in action than the whole force
rallied: the situation was saved. The Household Cavalry and the
10th Hussars were off in one direction, Rimington’s Scouts and the
mounted infantry in another, making for some rising ground on
the left where their position would be defensible and a line of
retreat found. Meanwhile Q Battery from six till noon pounded
away at the Dutchmen, while Lieutenant Chester-Master, K.R.R.,
found a passage farther down the spruit unoccupied by the enemy,
by which it was possible to effect a crossing. Major Burnham’s
account of the artillery duelling at this time is inspiriting:—

“As soon as the gunners manning the five guns opened with shrapnel,
the Boers hiding in Koorn Spruit slackened their fire, preferring to keep under
cover as much as possible. In that way many others escaped. The mounted
infantry deployed and engaged the Boer gunners and skirmishers to the east,
and the cavalry with Roberts’s Horse dismounted and rallied to cover the guns
from the fire. A small body was also despatched to strike south and fight
north. My captors directed their attention to Q Battery. They got the range,[Pg 8]
1700 yards, by one of the Boers firing at contiguous bare ground, until he saw
by the dust puffs he had got the distance, whereupon he gave the others the
exact range, which they at once adopted. The gunners gave us nearly forty-eight
shrapnel, for they were firing very rapidly, but although they had the
range of our kraal, they only managed to kill one horse. I noticed that the
Boers, though they dodged and took every advantage of cover, fired most
carefully, and yet rapidly. It was the same with those in the spruit as inside
the kraal where I sat. That day the Boers said to me they had but three men
killed in the spruit, and only a half-dozen or so wounded. Those artillerymen,
how I admired and felt proud of them! and the Boers, too, were astonished at
their courage and endurance. Fired at from three sides, they never betrayed
the least alarm or haste, but coolly laid their guns and went through their drill
as if it had been a sham-fight, and men and horses were not dropping on all
sides. There was a little bit of cover a hundred yards or so behind the
battery, around the siding and station buildings of the projected railway and
embankment. Thither the living horses from the limbers and guns were
taken, and the wounded were conveyed. When, three hours later, their
ammunition for the 12-pounders was scarce, and the Boer rifle fire from the
gulch, the waggons, and ridge opened heavy and deadly, the gunners would
crawl back and forward for powder and shell. Had it not been for those
terrible cannon, the Boers told me that they would have charged, closing in on
all sides upon Broadwood’s men.”

THE DISASTER AT KOORNSPRUIT: DRIVERLESS TEAMS STAMPEDING


Drawing by John Charlton

When the order to retire was received, Major Phipps Hornby
ordered the guns and their limbers to be run back by hand to where
the teams of uninjured horses stood behind the station buildings.
Then such gunners as remained, assisted by the officers and men of
the Burma Mounted Infantry, and directed by Major Phipps
Hornby and Captain Humphreys (the sole remaining officers of the
battery), succeeded in running back four of the guns under shelter.
It is said the guns would never have been saved but for the gallant
action of the officers and men of the Burma Mounted Infantry, who,
when nearly every gunner was killed, volunteered, and succeeded,
under the heaviest fire, in dragging the guns back by hand to a
place of safety. It was while doing this that Lieutenant P. C. Grover,
of the Burma Mounted Infantry, was killed. Though one or two of
the limbers were thus valiantly withdrawn under a perfect cyclone
of shot and shell, the exhausted men found it impossible to drag
in the remaining limbers or the fifth gun. Human beings failing,
the horses had also to be risked, and presently several gallant
drivers volunteered to plunge straight into the hellish vortex.
They got to work grandly, though horses dropped in death
agony and man after man, hero after hero, was picked off by the
unerring and copious fire of the Dutchmen. It is difficult to get
the names of all the glorious fellows who carried their lives in
their hands on that great but dreadful day, but Gunner Lodge
and Driver Glasock were chosen as the representatives of those
who immortalised themselves and earned the Victoria Cross. Of[Pg 9]
Bombardier Gudgeon’s magnificent energy enough cannot be said.
One after another teams were shot, but he persisted in his work of
getting fresh teams. Three times he strove to roll a gun to a place
of safety, and on the third occasion was wounded. The splendid
discipline of the gunners was extolled by every eye-witness, and the
way the noble fellows, surrounded with Boer sharpshooters, stood
to the guns was so marvellous, so inspiriting, that even the men who
were covering the retirement, at risk of their lives were impelled
to rise and cheer the splendid action of the glorious remnant. The
correspondent of The Times declared that “When the order came
for the guns to retire, ten men and one officer alone remained upon
their feet, and they were not all unwounded. The teams were as
shattered as the gun groups. Solitary drivers brought up teams of
four—in one case a solitary pair of wheelers was all that could be
found to take a piece away. The last gun was dragged away by
hand until a team could be patched up from the horses that
remained. As the mutilated remnant of two batteries of Horse
Artillery tottered through the line of prone mounted infantry covering
its withdrawal, the men could not restrain their admiration.
Though it was to court death to show a hand, men leaped to their
feet and cheered the gunners as they passed. Seven guns and a
baggage train were lost, but the prestige and honour of the country
were saved. Five guns had been extricated. The mounted infantry
had found a line of retreat, and total disaster was avoided. But the
fighting was not over. The extrication of a rearguard in the front
of a victorious and exultant enemy has been a difficult and a delicate
task in the history of all war. In the face of modern weapons it is
fraught with increased difficulties. For two hours Rimington’s
Scouts, the New Zealand Mounted Infantry, Roberts’s Horse, and
the 3rd Regiment of Mounted Infantry covered each other in
retreat, while the enemy galloped forward and, dismounting, engaged
them, often at ranges up to 300 yards.”

The force was surrounded by the enemy on all sides, and there
was no resource but to fight through—the cavalry and mounted
infantry taking a line towards a drift on the south. Roberts’s Horse
made a gallant and desperate effort to outflank the Dutchmen, and
lost heavily; and Aldersen’s Brigade, with magnificent dash and
considerable skill, succeeded in holding back the hostile horde.
This retirement was no easy matter, for the position taken up by the
Federals was exceptionally favourable to them. To the north the
spruit twisted in a convenient hoop, which sheltered them; to the
south was the embankment of the railway in course of construction;
from these points and from front and rear the enemy was able,
in comparative security, to batter and harass the discomfited troops.

Fortunately, in the end, Colvile’s Division, which had been[Pg 10]
making its way from Bloemfontein, arrived in time to check the
Boers in their jubilant advance, though some hours too late to prevent
the enemy from capturing and removing the waggons and
guns.

While the retreat was being effected more valorous work was
going on elsewhere. The members of the Army Medical Corps,
with the coolness peculiar to them, were exposing themselves and
rushing to the assistance of the wounded, many being stricken
down in the midst of their splendid labours. Roberts’s Horse made
themselves worthy of the noble soldier who godfathered them, and
one—a trooper of the name of Tod—a prodigy of valour, rode
deliberately into the mêlée in search of the wounded, and returned
with the dead weight of a helpless man in his arms, under the fierce
fire of the foe. If disaster does nothing more, it breeds heroes.
The melancholy affair of Koorn Spruit brought to light the superb
qualities that lie dormant in many who live their lives in the matter
of fact way and give no sign.

Splendid actions followed one another with amazing persistence,
man after man and officer after officer attempting deeds of daring,
each of which in themselves would form the foundation of an heroic
tale. Lieutenant Maxwell of Roberts’s Horse, from the very teeth of
the enemy dragged off a wounded man—a lad who, by the time
he was rescued, had fainted. But the young subaltern promptly
got him in the saddle, and the pair sped forth from the fiery zone
alive. The Duke of Teck also rushed to the succour of Lieutenant
Meade, who was wounded (a bullet cutting off his finger and piercing
his thigh), gave up to him his horse and removed him from the scene
of danger. At the same time Colonel Pilcher was gallantly rescuing
Corporal Packer of the 1st Life Guards. Major Booth (Northumberland
Fusiliers) lost his life through doggedly holding a position
with four others, in order to cover the retreat.

When the Queenslanders arrived they too showed the stuff they
were made of, the best British thews combined with the doughtiest
British hearts. They plunged into action—so dashingly indeed that
the Boers very nearly mopped them up. But Colonel Henry was
equal even to the skittish foe, and contrived to entertain the Dutchmen
by leading them so active a dance that eventually the Colonials
were able to fight out their own salvation.

At last the guns got away and followed the line of retreat taken
by the cavalry. The troops then conducted their retirement by
alternate companies, each company taking up its duties without
fluster, and covering the other company’s retirement with great
steadiness until they reached Bushman’s Kop. The marvellous coolness
of the force was particularly amazing, as every man, with the
Boers still at his heels, believed himself to be cut off, yet in spite of[Pg 11]
this belief showed no signs of concern. In one regiment, consisting
of 11 officers and 200 men, two officers were killed, four wounded,
and sixty-six men killed and wounded.

Strange scenes took place during those awful hours in the donga,
and wonderful escapes were made. One trooper was seized on by
a Boer. “Surrender,” cried the Dutchman, but before another word
could be uttered, the trooper’s sabre whistled from its sheath and
the Boer was dead. Another who was wounded got off, as he said,
“by the skin of his teeth.” He had become jammed under a
waggon in company with a Boer—who had crept there for cover—and
the hindquarters of a dying mule. Over the cart poured a
rattling rain of bullets, to which he longed to respond. The Boer,
believing the wounded man to be his prisoner, made himself known.
“Hot work this,” he said. The next instant the Boer was caught
by the throat and knocked insensible, while the Briton promptly
extricated himself and vanished from the seething, fighting mass.
Another of the Household Cavalry, when summoned to surrender
his rifle, threw it with such force at the head of his would-be captor
that he was able to make good his escape.

The following interesting account was given from the point of
view of an officer of the Life Guards who was present:—

“We heard firing at 6.30, and while we were saddling bang
came two shells a little short, followed by three others. The firing
went on for half-an-hour incessantly. The convoys got under way
very quickly, followed by Mounted Infantry and Life Guards.
Luckily only two shells burst, and only one mule was killed. We
moved on to the spruit and were shot at by Mausers from our
right flank. The convoys were on the brink of the drift. Some
of the waggons were actually crossing, and our artillery close on to
them, when a terrific fire came from the spruit. The U Battery
was captured—the men and officers being killed, wounded, or
prisoners. We went about and retired in good order in a hail of
shot, being within 120 yards of the enemy. It is wonderful how
we escaped. Two of our men were shot—one in the thigh and
the other in the shoulder—and we had altogether 32 missing.
Our leading horses and baggage were within nine feet of the fire;
yet many of them got off, including my servant and horse. I lost,
however, my saddlebags, with change of clothes, trousers, shoes,
iron kettle, and letters which I grudge the Boers reading. We
got out of fire and lined the river banks, firing shots at the Boers,
who were, however, too distant. We were well hid in a position
like what the Boers had held themselves, and we hoped to enfilade
them, but the river twisted too much, and it is impossible to locate
fire with smokeless powder. We then followed the 10th Hussars
for four miles towards Bushman’s Kopje. The Ninth Division[Pg 12]
Infantry, under Colvile, came over the ridge with eighteen guns,
and we heard a lot of heavy firing.”

He went on to say: “Why we are alive I can’t say. Many of
the bullets were explosive, as I heard them burst when they hit the
ground. The shelling was most trying, as we had to stand quite
still for twenty minutes a living target.”

A laughing philosopher, a Democritus of the nineteenth century,
gave to the world, viâ the Pall Mall Gazette, his curious experiences.
Among other things he said:—

“Roberts’s Horse was ordered to trot off to the right of the convoy.
‘Oh! those are our men, you fool,’ said everybody. Two men
came up to the Colonel. ‘We’ve got you surrounded, you’d better
surrender,’ say they; and heads popped up in the grass forty yards
from us. Boers appeared all along the ridge a hundred yards
ahead. ‘Files about, gallop!’ yells the adjutant. (They dropped
him immediately.)

“I was carrying a fence-post to cook the breakfast of my section
(of four men). I turned my horse; there came a crackling in the
air, on the ground, everywhere; the whole world was crackling, a
noise as of thorns crackling or the cracks of a heavy whip. My
gee-gee (usually slow) went well, stimulated by the horses round it,
and actually took a water-jump; I had to hold my helmet on with
my right hand, which still held the fence-post, and I thought my
knuckles would surely get grazed by a bullet. They were pouring
in a cross-fire now as well, and once or twice I heard the s-s-s-s-s
of the Mauser bullet (the crackle is explosives, you know). It was
very exhilarating; the gallop and the fire made me shout and sing
and whistle. I jumped a dead man, and almost immediately caught
up B., who is one of my section.

“The fire was slackening, and we were half a mile away by then,
and we looked round to see whether anybody was forming up. The
plain was dotted with men and many riderless horses. Everybody
was yelling, ‘When do we form up?’ You feel rather foolish when
running away. At about one mile we formed up again. From the
rear, and from the place we had come from, and from the river bed,
there came a noise as of thousands of shipwrights hammering.
Nine (?) of our guns were captured; the remaining three fired at
intervals. My squadron was sent into a depression on the left of
the New Zealanders. Here we dismounted (No. 3 of each section
holding the horses), and went up as a firing line, range 1200, 1400,
and 1600 yards. The General passed. ‘Ever been in such a
warm corner?’ says he to the bugler. ‘Oh yes,’ says the little
chap, quite cheerfully and untruthfully. The General remarked,
laughing, that he hadn’t. I felt sorry for him, and heard the newsboys
shouting, ‘Another British disaster!’ and the Continental[Pg 13]
papers, ‘Nouvelle défaite des Anglais! Yah!’ It was the greatest
fun out, barring the loss of the guns and men. For we were not
losing a situation of strategic importance or anything of that kind.
The Boers had collared our blankets and things, but we chuckled
at the thought of what they would suffer if they ever slept in ’em.”

Sergeant-Major Martin, who, with Major Taylor (commanding
U Battery), was incidental in warning Colonel Rochfort and Major
Phipps Hornby of their danger, and thus assisting to save Q
Battery, described his experiences:—

“A Boer commander stepped out and confronted the Major with
fixed bayonet; all his (the Boer’s) men stood up in the spruit ready
to shoot us down if we had attempted to fight, ordered the Major to
surrender, and also the battery. The battery had no chance whatever
to do anything. As the trap was laid, so we fell into it. Now,
as the Major was talking to the Boer commander, I turned my horse
round (I was then three yards from him) and walked quietly to the
rear of our battery. When I got there, putting spurs to my horse,
I galloped for all I was worth to tell the Colonel to stop the other
battery, as U Battery were all prisoners. I then looked towards the
battery; the Boers were busy disarming them. I went a little distance
in that direction to have a last look. By this time the Household
Cavalry had come up, and the 14th Hussars; they halted, soon
found out what had happened, and turned round to retire. As they
did so the Boers opened fire on us. The bullets came like hailstones.
It was a terrible sight. One gun and its team of horses
galloped away; by some means or other it was pulled up. I took
possession of it, still under this heavy fire, and, finding one of our
drivers, I put him in the wheel, and drove the leaders myself. We
had between us 14 horses. I drove in the lead for about six miles,
following the cavalry, who had gone on to see if we could get
through. Eventually, after several hours, I got into safe quarters.”

The list of loss was terrible:—

Brevet-Major A. W. C. Booth, Northumberland Fusiliers; Lieutenant P.
Crowle, Roberts’s Horse; Lieutenant Irvine, Army Medical Service (attached to
Royal Horse Artillery), were killed. Among the wounded were: Brevet-Colonel
A. N. Rochfort, Royal Horse Artillery, Staff. Q Battery Royal Horse Artillery.—Captain
G. Humphreys, Lieutenant E. B. Ashmore, Lieutenant H. R.
Peck, Lieutenant D. J. Murch, Lieutenant J. K. Walch, Tasmanian Artillery
(attached). Royal Horse Guards.—Lieutenant the Hon. A. V. Meade.
Roberts’s Horse.—Major A. W. Pack Beresford, Captain Carrington Smith,
Lieutenant H. A. A. Darley, Lieutenant W. H. M. Kirkwood. Mounted
Infantry.—Major D. T. Cruickshank, 2nd Essex Regiment; Lieutenant F.
Russell-Brown, Royal Munster Fusiliers; Lieutenant P. C. Grover, Shropshire
Light Infantry (since dead); Lieutenant H. C. Hall, Northumberland Fusiliers.
Wounded and Missing.—Captain P. D. Dray, Lieutenant and Quartermaster
Hawkins. Missing.—Lieutenant H. R. Horne. Royal Horse Artillery.[Pg 14]—Captain
H. Rouse, Lieutenant G. H. A. White, Lieutenant F. H. G. Stanton,
Lieutenant F. L. C. Livingstone-Learmonth. 1st Northumberland Fusiliers.—Lieutenant
H. S. Toppin. 2nd Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry.—Lieutenant
H. T. Cantan. 1st Yorkshire Light Infantry.—Captain G. G.
Ottley. Royal West Kent Regiment.—Lieutenant R. J. T. Hildyard. Captain
Wray, Royal Horse Artillery, Staff; Captain Dray, Roberts’s Horse; Lieutenant
the Hon. D. R. H. Anderson-Pelham, 10th Hussars; Lieutenant
C. W. H. Crichton, 10th Hussars.

The casualties all told numbered some 350, including 200
missing. Reports differ regarding the strength of the enemy.
Lord Roberts estimated it at 8000 to 10,000, while De Wet
declared he had only about 1400 men.

All that remained of U Battery was one gun, Major Taylor, a
sergeant-major, a shoeing-smith, and a driver!

In Q Battery, Captain Humphreys, Lieutenants Peck, Ashmore,
Murch were wounded, and the latter two reported missing.

The whole of the grievous Saturday afternoon was spent by the
gallant doctors in tending the ninety or more of our brave wounded
who lay helpless in the spruit. They were carried to the shelter of
the tin houses, and the work of bandaging and extracting bullets
was pursued without a moment’s relaxation. The removal of the
sufferers from the neighbourhood of the spruit on the day following
was a sorry task, and the sight that presented itself to the ambulance
party was one which was too shocking to be ever forgotten. In the
spruit itself the wreckage of waggons which had been looted by the
Boers covered most of the scene, and, interspersed with them were
horses and cattle, maimed, mutilated, and dead. With these, in
ghastly companionship, were the bodies of slain soldiers and black
waggon-drivers. The living wounded were conveyed from the
disastrous vicinity in ambulances and waggons brought for them
under the covering fire of the guns, which swept the length of the
river and deterred the enemy from attempting to block the passage
of the melancholy party. The Republicans, however, fired
viciously from adjacent kopjes, but without disturbing the progress
of the operations.

At noon General French’s cavalry, with Wavell’s Brigade, had
left Bloemfontein to occupy a position on the Modder between Glen
and Sanna’s Post, and keep an eye on further encroachments of the
Boers. The enemy, on the fatal Saturday night, had destroyed the
waterworks, thus forcing the inhabitants of Bloemfontein to fall
back on some insanitary wells, as a substitute for which the waterworks
had been erected. Here, on their departure for Ladybrand,
they left 12 officers and 70 men, who had been wounded in the
fray, and whom they doubtless considered might be an encumbrance
to their future movements. These were conveyed by ambulance to
Bloemfontein.[Pg 15]

Map Illustrating the Military Operations to the S. and E. of Bloemfontein.

As an instance of Boer treachery, it was stated that the Free
State commandant Pretorius, whose farm overlooked the spruit
wherein the ambuscade was arranged, had given up arms and taken
the oath to retire to his farm. Yet on the day of the disaster
he led the Boers to the attack, while the members of his family
were prominent among the looters of the wrecked waggons. Other
tales of cruelty and ill-treatment and treachery on the part of the
Boers were well authenticated. It is useless to repeat them, but the
circumstances are merely noted to give an explanation for a change
of policy which was necessitated by the actions of the enemy—a
change which was, unfortunately, adopted only when many martyrs
had been made in the cause of forbearance.

[Pg 16]

THE REDDERSBURG MISHAP

The Boers, triumphant with their success at Koorn Spruit, scurried
to Dewetsdorp, drove out the British detachment which had
been posted there by General Gatacre, and on the 4th of April
came in for another piece of luck, for which we had to pay by the
loss of three companies of Royal Irish Rifles and two companies of
the Northumberland Fusiliers.

The unfortunate occurrence took place near Reddersburg,
somewhat to the east of Bethanie Railway Station. A party of
infantry, consisting of three companies of Royal Irish Rifles and
two companies of the Northumberland Fusiliers, who had been in
occupation of Dewetsdorp, and engaged on a pacification mission on
the east of the Free State, were ordered on the 3rd to retire to
Reddersburg, a place situated some thirty-seven miles from Bloemfontein
and fifty miles from Springfontein, where General Gatacre
had taken up his head-quarters. In their retirement the troops, it is
said, took a somewhat unusual detour, and thus, if they did not
court, ran risk of disaster. Anyway, they had travelled about
four miles to the east of their destination when, at Mosterts Hok,
they were surprised to discover a strong force of some 2500
Boers. They were still more surprised to find that, while they
themselves were unaccompanied by artillery, and were possessed
of little reserve ammunition, the Dutchmen were provided with
three or four formidable guns. Thus, the situation from the first
was alarming. Our men, comparatively defenceless, saw themselves
hedged in by an overmastering horde. They quickly occupied a
position on a peaked hill rising in the centre of ground sliced and
seamed with dry nullahs. These popular havens of refuge were at
once seized by the Boers and deftly made use of. The Dutchmen,
under cover of the dongas, crept cautiously up on all sides of the
kopje, surrounding it and pouring cascades of rifle-fire on the small
exposed force. In no time the chance of retreat was barred on all
sides, and there was no resource but to fight through. But unfortunately,
as British ammunition was limited and the Boers warily
kept well out of range, all that could be done was to prolong hostilities
in the hope that delay would enable reinforcements from
Bethanie to come to the rescue. But these did not arrive. The
Boers, grasping the situation, gathered courage and approached
nearer and nearer. With the dusk coming on and some 2500 of
the foe enfilading them from three sides, the British position, as
may be imagined, was not a hopeful one. Nevertheless, the Royal
Irish Rifles displayed the national spirit of dare-devilry—“fought
like bricks,” some one said—never losing heart under the persistent
attacks of shot and shell that continued till nightfall.

THE REDDERSBURG MISHAP: MEN OF THE IRISH RIFLES AND MOUNTED INFANTRY
DELIVERING UP THEIR ARMS


Facsimile of a Sketch by Melton Prior, War Artist

[Pg 17]

Hoping and waiting and fighting; so passed the dreadful hours
of dark. Then, with the dawn, the enemy, flushed with triumph,
commenced to pound their prey with redoubled vigour, while our
parched and almost ammunitionless troops, in a ghastly quandary,
alternately fought and prayed for relief!

Meanwhile the news of the affair having reached Lord Roberts,
General Gatacre, on the afternoon of the 3rd, was ordered to proceed
from Springfontein to the spot, while the Cameron Highlanders
were despatched from Bloemfontein to Bethanie.

General Gatacre, with his main body and an advance guard of
mounted infantry under Colonel Sitwell, then marched viâ Edenburg
to the succour of the detachment. On the morning of the
4th, Colonel Sitwell having arrived at Bethanie, some fifteen miles
from Mosterts Hok, heard sounds of artillery in the distance, and
believing that the engagement was going on, prepared to rush to
the rescue. But with the small force at his disposal, he deemed it
impossible to try a frontal attack, and decided to make an attempt
to get round the enemy’s right flank. The manœuvre was unsuccessful,
for a party of hidden Boers, from a kopje north-west of
Reddersburg, assailed him and forced him to retire and wait till the
main column should come to his assistance. But by the time General
Gatacre had reached the scene (10.30 A.M. on the 4th) the drama
had been enacted, the curtain had descended on the tragedy. The
small and valorous party on Mosterts Hok, which for thirty hours
had been fighting and were at last sans water, sans ammunition, sans
everything in fact, had been forced to surrender. No sign of them
was to be seen. The unfortunate band—many of them the survivors
of the fatal exploit at Stormberg—were now on their way to that
aristocratical prison-house—the Model School at Pretoria.

General Gatacre, finding further effort useless, then occupied the
town of Reddersburg. There, the Boers had hoisted the Free State
flag, and were making themselves generally objectionable. Quickly
the Boer banner was torn down and the Union Jack run up, though
during the operations the General narrowly escaped assassination.
He was fired at from a house, but fortunately escaped with only a
scratch on the shoulder.

By evening, acting on instructions from Bloemfontein, and owing
to the fact that the enemy was massed in all directions and
surrounding the town, the force and its prisoners returned to
Bethanie, and there encamped to mount guard over the rail.
Details regarding the movements of the troops on this grievous day
were given by a correspondent, in the Daily Telegraph, whose
version throws a somewhat depressing light on the sufficiently depressing
affair. The writer declared that:—

“A large British force, with a brigade division of artillery[Pg 18]
(eighteen guns), on the march to Bloemfontein, was at Bethanie,
about eleven miles from Reddersburg, on the night of April 3, and
got the news of the above-mentioned infantry being surrounded
about 11 P.M. The men immediately saddled up, got under arms,
and remained all night ready to move off in relief, but did not
receive orders to do so until 8 A.M. on April 4, and then were only
permitted to proceed at a walk, constantly halting to water the
horses. The result of the delay was that the column arrived just
too late, and was then not even allowed to pursue the enemy and
release the prisoners, who were dead beat and could not possibly
have been hurried along. The relief column was manœuvred outside
the town of Reddersburg during most of the day, and then was
ordered to return to Bethanie, but, when within a few miles of camp,
with the horses and men tired out, a complete change of instructions
were issued, and the column was wheeled about and told to march
back and take the town of Reddersburg. The Cameron Highlanders,
who had just come off a troopship from Egypt, and were,
consequently, quite unfit, could hardly move, but all had to turn, for
no apparent reason, and march to the ground they had left. The
mounted infantry and artillery trotted back and occupied Reddersburg
about dusk, with only one casualty, viz. an officer of mounted
infantry, and the force bivouacked, with very little food, just outside
the town.

“About midnight, the order was given to return to Bethanie
again, and the men, who could hardly crawl, were awakened, the
march resumed, and Bethanie was reached about 7 A.M. on April 5,
after great and unnecessary distress both to men and animals, while
no object was gained, the whole expedition being a miserable fiasco,
disheartening and humiliating to every one present.

“To whom blame is attributable it is difficult to say, as the
officer in command seemed not to have a free hand, but to be
directed by wires received at intervals, which must have taken five
or six hours to reach him. Either the relief ought never to have
been attempted, or it ought to have been carried out expeditiously
and with determination.”

Mr. Purves, who, as a lance-corporal with one of the Ambulance
Corps, was in the thick of the fray, gave a graphic description of the
unhappy affair:—

“Reaching Dewetsdorp on the morning of Sunday, April 1st, we first
became aware that our progress was being watched by the Boers. Just as we
were about to camp outside the dorp, our scouts exchanged a few shots with
those of the enemy. Beyond a temporary disarrangement of our plans, nothing
happened, as the main body of the enemy did not show at all, and things quieted
down till nightfall, when another alarm was caused by the arrival of the Mounted
Infantry (Royal Irish Rifles and Northumberland Fusiliers), who were mistaken
by our people for Boers, as their arrival was unexpected, and our presence in[Pg 19]
the position occupied by us was a surprise to them. The Mounted Infantry
actually dismounted to prepare for business, when fortunately a mutual recognition
took place, and a hearty greeting to the brave fellows who were to bear the
brunt of the coming action was extended by our force. Captain Casson
(one of the first to fall at Mosterts Hock) commanded the new-comers. After
a night’s rest, we started again on the march, which continued without event till
Tuesday, 3rd, when our scouts at 11.30 came back with the news that the
enemy were upon us, making for two kopjes in front of us. Both of these were
immediately crowned by our little force of 440—the above-mentioned Mounted
Infantry, with some of the Royal Irish Rifles taking the northern kopje, and
the remainder of the Royal Irish Rifles that to the south. Rifle firing opened
at once, and gradually grew hotter till about 2 P.M., when the Boers opened
with artillery, four guns being brought into play in positions that enabled them
to sweep our two lines. Fortunately, the firing was most erratic, and little or
no damage was done by the shells. Volley fire from the Royal Irish Rifles
soon put one of the guns out of action. We had no artillery, and the wonder
is that we held the position, extended as it was far beyond what seemed tenable
to so small a force, for the long time we did. The bearers of C Company,
Cape Medical Staff Corps, had a particularly warm time of it. Sent as they
were at the commencement of the action right on to the fighting line, they stuck
to their posts till the very last without any cover, and only retired with the last
line of straggling defenders, who worked their way back through a deadly hail
of bullets, explosive and otherwise, to their own camp, after the Boers had won
the day. The first day’s fight lasted till darkness, when we tried to snatch
some rest—a luxury that came to few. Next morning at 5.30 found us sniping
at one another prior to the forenoon fire that soon kept every one busy at all
points. At 8 the artillery commenced firing, and the fight became fiercer till
about 9, when our men on the north kopje, unable to contend against the fearful
odds, hoisted the white flag, and the Boers on that side rushed the position,
and were thus able to pour a murderous fire into the unfortunate Royal Irish
Rifles on the southern height, who, while their attention was riveted on the
enemy on their front, were in ignorance of what was going on in their rear for
a while. When they turned to reply to the rear attack, their position was
taken, and the poor fellows, accompanied by nine of the stretcher-bearers, had
to run for the hospital, distant 600 yards, under a fearful cross-fire. Several of
the Rifles were killed, but the bearers escaped marvellously. The hospital,
which was pitched between the two kopjes, suffered from the shelling, and was
in itself dangerous; while, to add to the risk, a trench thrown up to protect the
sick was mistaken by the Boers for a rifle-trench, and became a mark for their
special attention. One shell burst near the operating-tent while the surgeons
were at work on a wounded man, and riddled the tent, fortunately hitting no
one. Another banged into a buck waggon. A third cut a mule in halves. A
slight bruise on the knee was the only hurt suffered by any of the Hospital
Corps. Our dead numbered ten, whom we buried on the battle-field, placing
over the grave a neatly dressed and lettered stone, executed by Private Buckland,
C Medical Staff Corps. Two of the wounded died afterwards in the temporary
hospital at Reddersburg, and are buried in the cemetery there. The
wounded, thirty-two in number, were sent down from Bethanie to one of the
base hospitals, for treatment in the convalescent stage. Enough praise cannot
be given to the warm-hearted people of the Dutch village of Reddersburg. It
mattered not that we were British. Their all was placed at our disposal, and
to their generosity much of our success with the wounded is to be attributed.”

[Pg 20]

The casualties were as follows:—

Killed—Captain F. G. Casson, Northumberland Fusiliers; 2nd Lieut. C.
R. Barclay, Northumberland Fusiliers. Dangerously Wounded—Captain W.
P. Dimsdale, Royal Irish Rifles. Slightly Wounded—Lieut. E. C. Bradford,
Royal Irish Rifles. Captured—Captain Tennant, Royal Artillery; 2nd Lieut.
Butler, Durham Light Infantry, attached to Northumberland Fusiliers; Captain
W. J. McWhinnie, Royal Irish Rifles; Captain A. C. D. Spencer, Royal Irish
Rifles; Captain Kelly, Royal Irish Rifles; 2nd Lieut. E. H. Saunders, Royal
Irish Rifles; 2nd Lieut. Bowen-Colthurst, Royal Irish Rifles; 2nd Lieut.
Soutry, Royal Irish Rifles, and all remaining rank and file.

Lieut. Stacpole (Northumberland Fusiliers) was also wounded
on the 4th. He was riding for reinforcements, and as he approached
Reddersburg, unknowing the place was in the hands of the Boers, he
was greeted with shots which killed his horse, wounded him, and
placed him at the mercy of the enemy, by whom he was captured.
The Boers in their retreat, however, left their prisoners behind.
The total of killed and wounded numbered between 50 and
150. The strength of the British was 167 mounted infantry, 424
infantry. The enemy were said to be 3200 strong.

The unlucky termination of the affair completed the eastern
flanking movement of the Boers, who were now trickling over the
country from Sanna’s Post on the south to a point east of Jagersfontein
road. They soon held the Free State east of the railway
beyond Bethulie, and considerable numbers went south towards
Smithfield and Rouxville, their determination, after their recent
successes, being to harass the British force as much as possible. It
was now becoming evident that all the present trouble was due to
over-leniency, and it began to be urged that some measures must
be adopted which would ensure for the conquerors of the enemy’s
country the respect that was due to them. The humanitarian
attitude of Lord Roberts had produced an unlooked-for result. The
Commander-in-Chief had attempted to administer justice for a seventeenth-century
people on the ethics of those of the nineteenth, and
the experiment had proved disastrous. The enemy, far from being
impressed by the show of magnanimity, was laughing in his sleeve at
his immunity from pains and penalties. Our troops were forced now
to move in a country where nearly every man was a foe or a spy,
and one who, moreover, thought meanly of us for the concessions
which had been made. As an instance of contrast between our own
and the Dutchman’s mode of dealing with those considered as rebels,
an instructive story was told. A Free State burgher at the outset of
hostilities entered the Imperial service as a conductor of transport.
It was a non-combatant’s occupation, and one for which he was fitted,
owing to his knowledge of the Kaffir and Dutch languages. This
man was captured by the Boers, who, declaring him to be a rebel,[Pg 21]
instantly shot him dead. We, on the other hand, accepted an
obsolete rifle, a flint-lock elephant gun belonging to the days of the
Great Trek perhaps, as a peace-offering and then told the rebel to
go away and turn over a new leaf. His new leaf resolved itself into
unearthing Mausers and Martinis, and popping at us from the first
convenient kopje—if not from the windows of his farm!

To this cause may be attributed the sudden return of so-called
ill-luck, which seemed epidemic. April had brought with it an
alarming list of losses at Sanna’s Post, which was followed by a
grievous total of killed, wounded, and missing—five companies lost
to us—at Reddersburg. We had, moreover, disquieting days
around Thabanchu, Ladybrand, and Rouxville, and were being
forced gradually, and not always gracefully, to retreat. For instance,
in the retirement from Rouxville, four companies of the Royal Irish,
some Queenstown and Kaffrarian Rifles, had merely escaped by
what in vulgar phrase we term “the skin of their teeth.” It was
merely owing to the smartness of General Brabant, who sent two
squadrons of Border Horse from Aliwal North to the rescue, that
the small force escaped being cut off. This officer’s little band
garrisoning Wepener was meanwhile beginning to test the Boer force
in earnest.

THE ESCAPE OF PRISONERS FROM PRETORIA

At this time great excitement prevailed owing to the escape
from Pretoria of Captain Haldane, D.S.O. (Gordon Highlanders),
who was captured after the disaster to the armoured train at Chieveley;
of Lieutenant Le Mesurier (Dublin Fusiliers), who was taken prisoner
with Colonel Moeller’s force after the battle of Glencoe; and of
Sergeant Brockie, a Colonial volunteer. These officers had a more
adventurous task than even that of Mr. Churchill, for since the war
correspondent’s escape the Boers had naturally taken additional
precautions, and had mounted extra guard over their prisoners.
The officers most ingeniously contrived to dig a trench underneath
the floor of the prison, and here they hid themselves. For eighteen
long days they remained cramped in this small underground hole, in
the daily expectation that the other officers and their guards were
about to be transferred to new quarters, when a chance of escape
would be offered.

Captain Haldane gave exciting details of his adventures in
Blackwood’s Magazine; but, before dealing with them, it is interesting
to consider the position of the vast congregation of British
officers that had gradually been collected within the confines of the
Model School. Curiously enough, after all the fighting, the sum
total of prisoners of war on both sides was now nearly equal. By[Pg 22]
the 23rd of March the Boer prisoners in our hands were 5000,
while the British prisoners in Pretoria numbered some 3466. Since
that date, through various unlucky accidents, the Boers had captured
some 1000 more of our troops, and thus early in April the enemy
almost equalled us in the matter of capture!

The Model School, Pretoria.

The Model School stands in the centre of the town. It is
commodious, though devoid of privacy (on the principle of a
boys’ dormitory) well ventilated, lighted with electricity, and roofed
with corrugated iron. At the time of the escape there was a
gymnasium, and also a scaling-ladder against the wall, which
suggested infinite possibilities to such men as Captain Haldane,
who had all the exciting histories of “Latude,” “Jack Sheppard,”
and “Monte Christo” at his fingers’ ends. There were rough
screens to enclose some of the cubicles, and the walls in some
cases were decorated with cuttings from the illustrated papers,
or with humorous sketches made by talented amateurs. Two of
these were especially admired, a chase after President Steyn personally
conducted by Lord Roberts, and a caricature of President[Pg 23]
Kruger, which latter was highly appreciated even by the Boers
when it came under their notice.

The special nook of the Rev. Adrian Hofmeyer, who had made
himself into a general favourite, and was laconically declared to be
a “regular brick,” was the most decorative of all, being made gay
with various scraps of colour and design to cheer the weary eye.
By this time the reverend gentleman, having had a more trying
experience of incarceration than most, had got to look upon the
Model School in the light of residential chambers, and consoled
others with the account of his own experiences. His story was not
an enlivening one:—

“I was lodged in the common jail, Cronje’s law adviser having informed
him it would not be legal to shoot me. Cronje consequently thought the best
thing to do would be another illegality, namely, imprison a non-combatant and
correspondent. Mr. Cronje has ample time to-day in St. Helena to meditate
upon this and other illegal acts of his. I was locked up in a cell eighteen feet
by nine feet, and for the first few days was allowed to have my meals at
the hotel. Soon, however, this liberty was taken away, for it proved too
much for the Christian charity of the Zeerust burghers to see a despised
prisoner of war marched up and down from the hotel to the jail under police
escort. Other restrictions were soon imposed also, and after a little while
I was locked up day and night, the door of the unventilated cell being open
only three times a day for fifteen minutes at a time. No books nor papers
were allowed me, no visitors, and the few loyal friends who tried to supply me
with luxuries were cruelly forbidden to do so by the authorities. I cannot
help thinking to-day of the strange irony of fate. The commanders who practised
this cruelty upon me were Cronje and Snyman. The one is to-day a
prisoner of war, and can, perhaps, put himself in my place. He is an old
personal acquaintance, too.”

The worthy padre was afterwards removed, and gave a further
description of his experiences.

“After eight weeks of such life I was taken to Pretoria, and there quartered
in the Staats Model School with the British officers. Here everything was
better, and I quickly recovered my health and strength. The building was a
magnificent one, and the surroundings very pleasant, but our jailer, a Landdrost,
and our guards, the Zarps, never forgot to remind us of the fact that we
were prisoners. The food we got from Government sufficed for one meal; the
rest we had to buy, being charged most exorbitant prices. When I left, the
officers’ mess amounted to £1600 per month for 144 officers. On my arrival,
I was asked by the officers to conduct service for them every Sunday, in
addition to that held by an Anglican clergyman. For two Sundays, therefore,
we had two services a day, and then Winston Churchill escaped, and the
following extraordinary letter was sent the officers by the Anglican clergyman:—

“‘Gentlemen,—By the kind courtesy of the Government, I have been permitted
to hold services for you in connection with the Church of England,
which services I have felt it a privilege on my part to conduct. After what has
recently occurred—viz. the escape of Mr. Churchill from confinement—I ex[Pg 24]ceedingly
regret that, in consideration of my duty to the Government, I must
discontinue such regular ministrations, as I desire to maintain the honour due
to my position. Of course I shall always be glad to minister to you in any
emergency, with the special permission of the authorities, who will, with their
usual kindness, duly inform me.—With my best wishes, I am, gentlemen, yours
sincerely, ——.’

“Out of charity, I do not publish the reverend gentleman’s name,[2] but I
can add that ‘the emergency’ referred to never presented itself. Since that
time, I had the pleasure and honour of conducting the services every Sunday,
and they were the pleasantest hours I spent in prison. Our singing was so
hearty and good, that many of the townsfolk strolled up of a Sunday morning
to hear us.”

BRITISH PRISONERS ON THEIR WAY TO PRETORIA: THE FIRST HALT


Drawing by S. Begg

As may be imagined, all manner of devices were invented for the
purpose of securing news, the only intelligence of outside events
coming to the unhappy prisoners through the Standard and Diggers’
News, which journal, of course, dwelt gloatingly on British disasters.
But the authorities were suspicious. One day a harmonium was
removed, owing to the treasonable practice of performing “God
save the Queen”; on another, a cherished terrier was banished, as
he was declared to be a smuggler, and charged with the crime of
carrying notes in his tail! But at last, an ingenious ruse was successfully
perpetrated. A man, accompanied by a dog, came to the
railings and there engaged in a private dialogue, which savoured of
the maniacal, till the eagerly listening officers discovered that there
might be method in the strange man’s madness. A sample of the
scene was given by the correspondent of the Standard:—

“‘Would you like a swim?’ asked the master, and the dog,
with a wag of his tail, answered ‘Yes.’ ‘Ladysmith is all right,’
continued the man, and the tail wagged assent. ‘We will come
again,’ said the master, and the dog agreed. For a time the
prisoners thought him mad, this man with the dog who talked in his
beard, and mixed his dog talk with such names as ‘Ladysmith,’
‘Mafeking,’ ‘Cronje,’ ‘Roberts.’ Then the truth dawned on them,
and the ‘Dog Man’ became a hero, whose coming was watched
with longing, and whose mutterings in his beard were ‘as cool
waters to the thirsty soul,’ or as ‘good news from a far country.’
One day the ‘Dog Man’ was missing, and there was lamentation,
until, looking towards the house opposite, the prisoners saw him
standing well back in the passage, at the entrance to which two girls
kept watch. The ‘Dog Man’ was waving his hat in eccentric
fashion, and the waving was found to be legible to those who understand
signalling. Next morning a tiny flag was substituted for the
hat, and communication between the officers and the Director of
Telegraphs was established by flag signal.”

The prisoners endeavoured to keep up an air of jocosity, though,[Pg 25]
as one confessed, their tempers were “very short and inclined to be
captious.” Naturally their occupations were limited, and it was not
unusual to see gallant commanders engaged in darning their socks,
or washing their clothes under the pump. Their attire, too, was not
of the choicest, some of them having been accommodated when sick
with suits technically known as “slops,” purchased for a low price
in Johannesburg. Hence one officer disported himself in choice
pea-green, while another figured in rich yellow. These prison suits
were scarcely becoming, particularly as many of the smartest of the
smart were growing beards, or, if not beards, the ungainly chin tuft
or “Charley,” which destroyed their martial aspect. Sometimes
they engaged in games, bumble puppy and the like, and occasionally
expanded to other sports. A letter from a sprightly member of the
band to the Eton College Chronicle described the humorous side of
their daily life:—

“Model School, Pretoria.

“Dear Mr. Editor,—Whilst following the fortunes of old Etonians in
South Africa, perhaps it may have escaped your notice that a small and unhappy
band has already reached Pretoria. Mr. Rawlins’s House is represented
by Captain Ricardo (Royal Horse Guards), and H. A. Chandos-Pole-Gell
(Coldstream Guards); Mr. Carter’s by Major Foster (Royal Artillery); the late
Mr. Dalton’s, Mr. Ainger’s, and Mr. Luxmore’s respectively by M. Tristram
(12th Lancers), G. Smyth-Osbourne (Devonshire Regiment), and G. L. Butler
(Royal Artillery); and Mr. Cornish’s by G. R. Wake (Northumberland Fusiliers).
The histories of their separate captures would take up too much of
your valuable space. Some have been here but a short time, some many
weeks; and during their captivity their thoughts turned to old Eton days, and
the game of fives recommended itself to them as a means of passing some of
the many weary hours. There was no “pepper-box,” or “dead man’s hole”;
but a room, two of whose walls mainly consisted of windows, with the aid of
three cupboards and a piece of chalk, was quickly converted into a fives court.
Entries for a Public Schools’ tournament were numerous, Eton sending three
pairs. Tristram and Gell unanimously elected themselves to represent Eton’s
first pair, closely followed by Eton II., Ricardo and Osbourne, Eton III. being
Wake and Butler. The facts that Tristram had recently been perforated with
Mauser bullets, and Gell had spent Christmas and the three preceding weeks
in the various jails between Modder River and Bloemfontein, were no doubt
responsible for their not carrying off the coveted trophy. Alas! they were
badly beaten in the first round by Marlborough. Not so Eton II. and III.,
who carried the Light Blue successfully into the second round, both having
drawn byes. This good fortune could not last, and they fell heavily at the
second venture, being beaten by Wellington and Rugby respectively. The
ultimate winners proved to be Wellington, after a desperate encounter with
Charterhouse.

“So much for our pleasures; our troubles are legion, but we will not
burden you with them. We daily expect to hear of the E.C.R.V. sharing the
hardships of the campaign, and covering themselves with glory to the tune of

“Floreat Etona.

“P.S.—We all hope to be at Eton on the 4th of June.

“Feb. 14, 1900.”

[Pg 26]

(Curiously enough, the 4th of June brought to a close the deadly
period of durance vile. On that date the gallant crew spent their
last night as prisoners!)

To return to Captain Haldane and his partners in adventure.
Ever since Mr. Churchill’s escape he had racked his brains to
discover a means of escape, and had made multifarious plans, many
of which were rejected as absolutely hopeless, while many others
failed after efforts which testified to the perseverance and ingenuity
of their inventors. It was no easy matter after Mr. Churchill’s
exploit to hit on a means of evading the wily and now alert Boer.

The guard were armed with rifles, revolvers, and whistles, and as
these consisted of some thirty men, who furnished nine sentries in
reliefs of four hours, there was little hope of escaping their vigilance.
Fortunately the prisoners, such as had plain clothes in their possession,
were permitted to wear them, otherwise the dream of freedom
could scarcely have been indulged in. Bribery was not to be
thought of, and a repetition of Mr. Churchill’s desperate dash for freedom
was impossible. It remained, therefore, for Captain Haldane
and his colleagues to invent a new and ingenious method of bursting
their bonds. An effort to cut the electric wires to throw the place
in darkness while they scaled the walls, proved a sorry failure, and
at last, having tried the roof and other points of egress and found
them wanting, the companions hit on the happy idea of burrowing
a subterranean place of concealment. Here they thought to scrape
on and on till they bored a tunnel into the open! The discovery of
a trap-door in the planks under one of the beds lent impetus to their
designs, and they arranged to excavate a route diagonally under the
street, and so pass into the gardens of the neighbouring houses.
Marvellous was the patience and perseverance with which they,
almost toolless—with only scraps of biscuit tins and screwdrivers—toiled
daily in the accomplishment of their plan, and pathetic their
dismay when their tunnel finished up by landing them in several
feet of water with a promise of more to come. But they were indefatigable.
Captain Haldane, like the great Napoleon, argued that
the word impossible was only to be found in the dictionary of fools.
Rumours that the prisoners were to be removed to a new building
in two or three days only contrived to render the conspirators more
desperate in their craving to be at large, and again the trap-door
system was discussed. The young men determined on
revised operations, and hit on the plan of living underground in
the cave they should dig, thus disappearing from Boer ken and
conveying the idea that they had already bolted, leaving as evidence
of flight their three empty beds! Here they proposed to wait
till, the hue-and-cry after them having ceased, and the prison doors
having been opened for the removal of the other officers, they could[Pg 27]
slink forth at their leisure. But the change of prison did not come
to pass as soon as expected. The empty beds told their tale; the
place was searched, the crouching creatures in their burrow heard
the tramp of armed men above them, voices in close conference, and
afterwards the departing footsteps of the discomfited Boer detectives.
It was decided that the prisoners were gone, and further report,
amplified by Kaffir imagination, declared that they were already
on their way to Mafeking! Still, though safe from discovery, the
plotters were far from comfortable. Food in very meagre quantities
was smuggled through the trap-door, till at last, famine being the
mother of resource, by a process of what they called “signalgrams,”
their wants and intentions were conveyed to those above. Then
when the appointed raps gave notice of the opening of the mysterious
portal, potted meats and other luxuries were liberally passed
down. And here, in this ventilationless, miry hole, in darkness and
dank-smelling atmosphere, they groped a weary existence, daring
neither to cough, nor sneeze, nor whisper, lest discovery should rob
them of success. They were unwashed—so grimy as to be unrecognisable
even to themselves—they were cramped and covered with
bruises, brought about by bumping their heads against the dome of
their low dwelling; they were often hungry and sleepless, but they
were buoyed up with a vast amount of hope and pluck.

Day after day sped on with unvarying monotony, and gradually
hope began to exude at the pores. Six days passed, and they
thought patience had come to the end of her tether. They longed
to hold themselves upright, to see daylight, to eat their quantum of
food, and, above all, to hear the sound of their own voices. But
still they held on—longer, longer. Every day they knew made
their chance of escape more secure, for the authorities in Pretoria,
assured of their departure, had now ceased even from the habitual
nine days of wonderment regarding their fate. Then they began
to dig and burrow still further, this time with the assistance of a
bayonet and a skewer, and for days and days pursued their silent,
secret work, in hope to dig a channel some thirty feet long to
reach the hospital yard beyond the Model School. Meanwhile
they stored food in preparation for the great journey, and listened
acutely for news of the proposed transfer of the prisoners to other
quarters. At last they had their reward. A note was passed
down to say that the officers were to be removed on the morrow.
Then all was excitement. The curtain was drawing up on the play
of which the prologue had promised so much. The trap-door was
carefully fastened down, false screws being put into the screwholes
so as to render the hiding-place as inconspicuous as possible.

At last came the looked-for hour. Sounds of packing-up and
the shuffling passage of footsteps betokened activities. The com[Pg 28]mandant
went his rounds, and then a cheery voice was heard to
say, “All’s well. Good-bye.” They knew that was a signal—the
end had come! So in time the whole party of prisoners disappeared,
and with them their custodians! The coast was clear. Peeping
forth from their ventilator the joyous hidden trio could view the
street, the moving of baggage, and all the bustling preparations
for a general exodus. Their rapture knew no bounds. But escape
was even then deferred. Sightseers and police tramped through
the vacated rooms all day, moving perilously near the trap-door,
and laughing and jesting, unsuspicious of the precious haul that
might have been theirs. It was late in the afternoon before the last
visitors departed. Then, after collecting maps of their proposed route,
taking a final meal, packing their meat lozenges, chocolate, &c., and
money, they dressed and waited anxiously for the kindly cloak of
night….

Meanwhile the other prisoners were removed to a camp from
which escape was almost impossible. The place was enclosed with
barbed wire fencing standing as high as a man. It measured about
one hundred and fifty yards in length, and in width at the ends
might have measured fifty yards. From this pen it was possible to
gaze out over the hills to see life with the eye of Tantalus, so near
and yet so far—men and women passing, trees and houses and
cattle, all giving pictures of the free life without, that it was impossible
for them to share. No efforts now to evade the guard could
be made, for the enclosure was dotted thickly with electric lights,
and was so thoroughly illuminated in every corner that there was
no spot where a man could not have read. The dwelling-house
was walled, and roofed with zinc, bare within and comfortless, and
in the dormitory one hundred and forty cots were ranged side by
side. A few screens, as in the Model School, were arranged at
some of the bedheads, but of privacy there was none. The exchange
was a sorry one, and Captain Haldane and his companions,
Mr. Le Mesurier and Mr. Brockie, were wise in making a vigorous
bid to get clear of the fate that overtook their comrades.

Already a whiff of coming liberty seemed to reward these conspirators
for their dark days of anticipation. Their meal and their
preparations completed, they reconnoitred and discovered that all
was clear. Then, joyously, the intending fugitives emerged from their
terrible lair. With some difficulty they stood upright, their limbs
refused their office, they felt old, rheumatic stricken, incapable of
movement. But at last, boots in hand, creeping, as the French say,
on pattes de velours, they dragged themselves to a broken window,
and, passing through the gap made by the shattered pane, gained the
yard. Climbing over the railings—luckily unnoticed in spite of the[Pg 29]
brilliant rays of the full moon—they made for the nearest road
leading to the Delagoa Bay Railway. Fortunately for them young
Brockie, who was a Colonial and up to the “tricks of the trade,”
donned the Transvaal colours round his hat. Added to this he
wore his arm in a sling, to give the impression that he was a
wounded Boer. Thus they got through the somewhat deserted
street to the outskirts of the town unchallenged. Once a policeman
almost spoke to them, his suspicion was on the eve of being aroused,
but the solitary myrmidon of the law, inquisitive yet discreet, found
himself face to face with three desperate men whose expression was
not reassuring! He wisely slunk off. Towards the railway line
they now went, experiencing a series of hairbreadth ’scapes, for
there were orders to shoot any one seen wandering on the railway
track. But they dodged in holes and round corners, in rank
grass and in ditches and dongas, traversing river and spruit,
and plodding along the highway, now losing their bearings, now
retracing their steps, ever striving to reach Elands River station,
twenty miles east of Pretoria.

New Camp for British Prisoners at Pretoria.


(Drawing by J. Schönberg.)

On the left of the railway line ran the river, and as they toiled on—the
silver of the stream and the glint of the railway lines shimmering
in the ray of the moon—they descried tents, heard voices, and,
worse still, a dog’s bark, inquisitive, suspicious. Quickly to earth[Pg 30]
they went, hiding and dodging in the long grass between river and
line. This, the critical moment of their journey, forms one of the
most exciting phases of Captain Haldane’s altogether interesting
narrative.

“After lying in the grass about twenty minutes, for we did not
care to move so long as the dogs remained on the alert, we heard
voices coming in our direction, and the barking of the dogs became
more distinct. A whispered conference was held, and then we
dragged ourselves like snakes diagonally back towards the river.
Reaching a ditch, Le Mesurier, who was following me, came alongside
and asked me if I had seen Brockie, who had been following
him. I had not, so we waited a few moments; but seeing nothing
of him, and the enemy drawing near, we crossed the obstacle, and
found ourselves at the edge of the stream. Again we paused, this
time for several minutes, and the searchers came in view, following
our track.

“The crisis had come: to stay where we were meant probably
recapture. I whispered to Le Mesurier to follow me quietly, and
not to splash. The next minute I was in the river, which was out
of my depth, and Le Mesurier dropped in beside me. Holding on
to the roots of the reeds which lined the bank, we carefully pulled
ourselves some distance down-stream, and then paused. The
searchers and their dogs were evidently now at fault, and showed
no signs of coming our way, so we continued our downward course,
and ultimately swam across and into a ditch on the other side.

“We had been a good half-hour in the stream, which seemed to
us intensely cold, and our teeth were chattering so that we could
scarcely speak. My wrist-watch had stopped; but Le Mesurier’s,
a Waterbury, was still going, for it had been provided by his care
with a waterproof case. We now crept along the ditch up-stream
again, and then turned off towards the hillside, which was dotted
with large boulders. Coming round the corner of one of these, we
found a tent in front of us, and not caring to pass it, we tried to
climb up the steep face of the hill. Failing at one point, we found a
kind of “chimney,” up which we climbed, pulling and pushing each
other till the top was gained. A few minutes’ rest was necessary,
for our clothes were heavy with water and the climb had made us
breathless. Le Mesurier had done wonders with his ankle—the
cold water had been most efficacious. Next we walked along the
rocky face of the hill, parallel to the direction we had followed below,
and gradually descended to the level and struck a path. Brockie
was irretrievably lost, and it was useless to attempt to find him. He
had with him a water-bottle and sufficient food, and knew both the
Dutch and the Kaffir languages. Following the path, we passed
several clumps of bracken, one of which we selected as a suitable[Pg 31]
hiding-place. To have walked farther in our wet and clinging garments
might have been wiser, but we decided that we had had sufficient
excitement for one night without trying to add to it.”

So there they remained—wet, frigid, excited, aching—all through
the long sleepless hours, with nothing to vary the monotony save the
nip of the musquitoes. When morning came, their jaded limbs, like
the joints of wooden dolls, almost threatened to creak; and only
with the warmth of sunrise did they regain some of their pristine
elasticity. For food they now became anxious; their supplies were
waterlogged, their chocolate was a thirst-creating mash, and their
precious whisky bottle in the course of recent adventures had lost
cork and contents. A miserable day passed hiding in a swamp, and
crouching out of the light of day till again at night, and in a
thunder-storm, they thought it advisable to resume their journey.
Then, by the mercy of Providence, footsore, throatsore, heartsore,
and hungry they came on a field of water melons. Though ravenously
they took their fill, their joy was not of long duration. The
inevitable bark of the Boer dog warned them to be off. After this
they again lost their bearings, making needless detours, and only reaching
Elands River station—worn, weary, and down-hearted—before
daybreak. Then making their way to some gum trees that offered
welcome shelter, they again sought to sleep, but it was not to be.
Imagination had made molehills into mountains and footsteps into
cracks of doom. A Dutch youth passed by, his dog growled and
sniffed; discovery seemed imminent, but the hand of fate intervened,
they remained safe. Two nights, three nights were passed
on the veldt in anticipation of a train that might be on its way to
Balmoral. Their sufferings, their anxieties, and risks make many a
tale with a tale. Hiding continued during the day, now in an antbear
hole, now among grasses sodden with dew, the fugitives, from
caution, fatigue, and other causes, covering to that time only thirty-six
miles in four days. Finally, to make a long story short, the unhappy
wayfarers, their spirits and constitutions at the lowest ebb,
were led by the kindness of a Kaffir into the safe keeping of a
British subject, the manager of the Douglas Colliery Store, who
then nourished them and helped them to repair the terrible havoc
wrought by the past days of anxiety and starvation, and assisted
them to make plans for getting over the border. Here, newly
arrayed in decent clothing, washed and trimmed—for they had
originally presented the effect of veritable scarecrows—they began
to regain energy and hope. They were then initiated in the first
moves of a scheme to carry them to safety. With the assistance of
Dr. Gillespie, the doctor of the miners—a “rare guid” fellow from
all accounts—they got, on the 24th of March, to the Transvaal
Delagoa Bay Colliery; and here for some days following a con[Pg 32]spiracy
was set on foot to buy some bales of wool, sufficient to make
a truck load, and forward the bales, plus the escaped prisoners, to a
firm at Lorenço Marques. The scheme succeeded, though only after
some smart and sympathetic manœuvring on the part of the newly
found British friends, and many hours of terrible risk and suspense.
Finally, to the intense joy of the two adventurous ones, they found
themselves on Portuguese territory. On Sunday the 1st of April
they were free men! From that time their ways were fairly smooth.
They were the heroes of the hour, for every one had heard of their
story and was expecting them, Sergeant Brockie having preceded
them after some equally exciting experiences.

On the 6th of April the gallant pair left Lorenço Marques for
Durban, Captain Aylmer Haldane hastening to rejoin his regiment,
the 2nd Battalion Gordon Highlanders, at Ladysmith, and Mr. Le
Mesurier (Dublin Fusiliers) going round to join General Hunter’s
Division in the Free State. Thus the two enterprising officers, after
enduring almost unequalled tortures of body and mind, found themselves
free to return to duty and fight again for the honour and glory
of the Empire.

PREPARATIONS FOR ACTION

Bloemfontein meanwhile was a strange mixture of pastoral simplicity
and martial magnificence, and curious, almost wonderful, was
the view from a distance of the landscape in the vicinity. The
whole earth, as though blossoming, seemed to have thrown up mushrooms
far and wide—mushrooms grey, and white, and green. Dotted
among them were strange forms, like the shapes of antediluvian
reptiles—grasshoppers, locusts of mammoth size. Coming nearer
the town it was possible to recognise both mushrooms and reptiles
for what they really were, namely, the tents and the guns of the
largest army that England has put into one camp since the Crimea!
In and out and round about wandered horses and mules innumerable,
so numberless, indeed, that the casual onlooker wondered at the outcry
for equine reinforcements. Yet these were urgently needed, and
none but those “in the know” could comprehend how much the
strategical problem relied for solution on their arrival, and how
paralysed were the movements of the generals for want of them.
Some people opined that the Commander-in-chief would start off for
Pretoria at express speed, others hinted that his plan of campaign
would be altered to meet the complications that had arisen owing
to the renewed activity of the Boers in the south-eastern corner
of the Free State. But Lord Roberts was unmoved by either impatience
or disaster. He evidently determined to fritter his
resources on no operations that could not be concerted and rapidly
effective.

LIEUT.-GENERAL SIR ARCHIBALD HUNTER, K.C.B.


Photo by Bassano, London

[Pg 33]

Meanwhile stores, ammunition, warm clothing (for the wintry
weather was setting in), and boots were being brought in enormous
quantities from the Cape. The wardrobes of the hard-fighting
multitude were in sad need of repair, and some wag declared that
certain tatterdemalions could only venture abroad after dark, for fear
of shocking the Mother Grundys of Bloemfontein. Horses, too,
were being gradually collected, for it was felt that until there was
a sufficiency of remounts, General French’s dashing evolutions would
be too costly to be appreciable. The great gallop to Kimberley
had cost an immense amount in horse-flesh—about 1500 out of
5000, some said—and, in consequence, the splendid cavalry was
again reduced to impotence, just when the Boers, though demoralised
by the surrender of Cronje, might have been pursued
and punished as they deserved. According to later computation,
it was decided that the army must wear out at the rate of 5000
horses a month, and therefore no move could be set on foot till the
incoming supply was organised to meet the demand.

But for the state of horses and men the Field-Marshal could
have stuck to his well-known principle, one acquired from the great
Napoleon himself, namely, that a commander-in-chief should never
give rest either to the victor or to the vanquished. As it was, he
was stuck fast, and the Boers were not slow to take advantage of
the opportunity thus given them to recuperate.

Up to the time of the Koorn Spruit and Reddersburg disasters
things seemed to be ranging themselves satisfactorily, but little by
little the authorities began to discover that the entire attitude of the
apparently pacified burghers was decidedly false. By degrees they
learnt that, instead of disturbing a hornet’s nest and clearing it, they
had, as it were, got into the midst of it themselves. It became
evident that within the town there existed a conspiracy for the
purpose not only of supplying the enemy with information, but
keeping him ready equipped for hostility. Under the mask of neutrality,
certain Germans and others incited the burghers who had
laid down their arms to take them up again. This, in the true
sense of the word, for it was found that upwards of some 3000
weapons had been buried for use in emergency. But once General
Pretyman obtained a true grasp of the situation, and could prove
the duplicit nature of the persons with whom he had to deal, the
work of weeding and deportation of the obnoxious element of
Bloemfontein society was taken in hand.

Early in the month a prominent figure was removed from
the fighting scene. The death was announced of Colonel the
Hon. G. H. Gough[3] at Norval’s Pont. This distinguished officer[Pg 34]
till the time of his death had been acting as Assistant Adjutant-General
to General French’s Cavalry Division. His services had
been many and brilliant, and his loss was deeply deplored.

The occupation of pacifying the disturbed western districts continued.
General Settle and his forces had been operating between
De Aar, Prieska, Kenhardt, and Upington, and General Parsons
had occupied Kenhardt, and in a few days all traces of rebellion
in the district between Van Wyks Vlei and Kenhardt had disappeared.
As a matter of fact, it was discovered that many of the
rebels were ignorant of why they were fighting at all. Some one
addressed them and said, “What are you fighting for?” and they
answered, “Equal rights for all white men in South Africa.” “Then,”
said the speaker, “go and fight Paul Kruger. He alone refuses
white men equal rights!” Still more ignorant were many of the
subsidised sympathisers, while other foreigners who were forced to
fight were evidently apathetic regarding the issue of the struggle.
The following story was told of a Pole, who was not sorry when
taken prisoner. When asked why he fought, he said, “Vat could I
do? Dey give me musket and bandolier, and say, ‘You must
fight.’ The captain say to me, ‘You take that mountain,’ and I ask,
‘Vare shall I take it?’” If the tale was not absolutely accurate, it
was still typical of the nonchalance of many who were engaged
in the Transvaal cause.

Of changes there were many. On the 10th, it was announced in
general orders that Major-General Sir H. Chermside had been
appointed to the command of the Third Division vice Lieutenant-General
Sir W. F. Gatacre “ordered to England.” There was a
good deal of sympathy expressed by all who knew the difficulties
with which General Gatacre had had to contend. But, as an old
campaigner remarked, luck counts for as much as merit in actual
warfare. “Give me a man who is lucky, and I ask nothing
more.” Luck was at the bottom of it all, and luck is all-important
where multitudes of men have to follow, heart in hand, blindly rushing
to glory in the footsteps of faith. General Gatacre’s name now[Pg 35]
spelt disaster, and as men had to be marched to ticklish work that
wanted nerve and confidence of the best, a luckier commander was
chosen. Accordingly, a much-tried officer—a soldier to the marrow—was
sacrificed on the altar of necessity.

An Infantry Division from the Natal side was formed under the
command of Sir Archibald Hunter, and called the Tenth Division,
while the Eleventh Division was commanded by General Pole-Carew.
General Ian Hamilton commanded a division of mounted infantry,
ten thousand strong, formed of South African and other mounted
Colonial contingents, and divided into two brigades under Generals
Hutton and Ridley. As this division came in for a considerable
amount of exercise in course of Lord Roberts’s great advance, it is
particularly interesting to examine and remember its component
parts.

General Hutton’s brigade comprised the Canadians, the New
Zealanders, and all the Australians except the cavalry. The staff
was as follows:—

Colonel Martyr, Chief Staff Officer; Lord Rosmead, Aide-de-Camp;
Colonel Hoad (Victoria), Assistant Adjutant-General; Major Bridges (New
South Wales), Deputy Assistant Adjutant-General; Major Cartwright (Canada),
Deputy Assistant Adjutant-General; Colonel Gordon (Adelaide), officer on the
line of communication; Major Rankin (Queensland), Staff Officer; Major
Vandeleur (Scots Guards), advanced base transport officer; Captain Lex, Army
Service Corps, supply officer.

The brigade consisted of four corps of mounted infantry, under
Colonels Alderson, De Lisle, Pilcher, and Henry.

The first corps consisted of a 1st Battalion of Canadians, under
Colonel Lessard; a 2nd Battalion, under Colonel Herchmer; and
Strathcona’s Horse, under Colonel Steel.

The second corps consisted of the New South Wales Mounted
Infantry, under Colonel Knight, and the West Australians, under
Captain Moor.

The third corps was formed of the Queenslanders, under Colonel
Ricardo, and the New Zealanders, under Major Robin.

The fourth corps consisted of the Victorians, under Colonel
Price; the South Australians, under Captain Reade; and the
Tasmanians, under Captain Cameron.

Each corps had a battalion of Imperial Mounted Infantry
attached to it, except the New South Wales Corps. A battery
joined the division, as well as the Canadian Battery and a number
of Vickers-Maxims. The New South Wales Army Medical Corps,
under Colonel Williams, were the medical troops of the division.

General Ridley’s brigade consisted entirely of South African
troops.

Lord Roberts, always appreciative of the Colonials, ordered the[Pg 36]
body of Colonel Umphelby of the Victorian Contingent, who was
killed at Driefontein, to be removed to Bloemfontein, there to be
buried with honours appropriate to the distinction of that gallant
officer’s services.

Rearrangements of all kinds were taking place, the better to
meet the peculiarities of the situation. Sir Redvers Buller was asked
to co-operate by forcing Van Reenen’s Pass, and threatening the
enemy’s line of retreat; but the task was one bristling with difficulties,
as until Northern Natal should be cleared of the enemy he
considered it unsafe to move westward. Accordingly, to meet the
necessity for strong action in the east of the Free State, it was
decided the Natal Field Army should continue its work in its own
ground, minus the Tenth Division (Hunter’s), which should be
moved by sea to East London, one brigade (Barton’s) to replace
the Eighth Division (Rundle’s), diverted from Kimberley to
Springfontein, and one brigade (Hart’s) to operate in the neighbourhood
of Bethulie. It must here be noted that the country
south of a line drawn from Kimberley to Bloemfontein seemed to
be almost under control, but the pacification of the angle south-east
of Bloemfontein had, as yet, to be accomplished.

Meanwhile, President Kruger made a tour of the positions of
his army, in order to stimulate the Free Staters to further efforts;
but very many of these began to show symptoms of unbelief, and
refused any longer to swallow the assertions that Russia had taken
London and that America was coming to the aid of the Boers, which
the President and other kinsmen of Ananias in the Transvaal took
the trouble to repeat. Daily, various Free Staters surrendered—some
of them genuinely, while others merely gave up an old rifle for convenience’
sake, burying some four others for use in emergency—took
to their farms, and there developed from fine fighting-men into mean
and despicable spies. With these slippery fish it was difficult to
cope, and the problem of how to manage them took some little time
to solve. Still, the task of remodelling and improving the army continued,
all working to bring the long halt to a conclusion as speedily
as possible.

Efforts wonderful and successful were made to increase the
mobility, particularly of the mounted portions of the troops. One
section of the Vickers-Maxim guns (1-inch guns) was attached to
each cavalry brigade, and two sections to each brigade of mounted
infantry. To add to the mobility of the horse artillery the waggons
of each battery were reduced to three, spare teams being allowed for
each gun.

The Eighth Division (Rundle) which, as we know, had been
diverted from Kimberley to Springfontein, and the Third Division
(Gatacre’s, now Chermside’s) which was concentrated at Bethanie,[Pg 37]
were fulfilling a part of Lord Roberts’s scheme for sweeping the
right-hand bottom corner of the Free State clear of the enemy.
Assisting them was General Hart, with a brigade of Hunter’s Division,
and engaged also in the operation were the mounted infantry,
under General Brabazon, and part of the Colonial Brigade under
General Brabant. Another part of this Brigade, which had moved
towards Wepener at the beginning of the month, had there been
blockaded by the enemy, and though their position was not regarded
as serious, Lord Roberts was forming plans for a general converging
movement which would have the effect of routing the Boers
from the end of the Free State altogether.

Energetic measures of every kind were adopted for the control
of the Free State. General Pretyman, who had been appointed
Military Governor of Bloemfontein, developed a scheme for the protection
of those who had taken the oaths of submission, and who
were hourly in dread of the reprisals of the Boers. Though
some of the Free Staters for long had been entirely sick of
the war, and were only forced into fighting in fear of ill-treatment
by the Boers, others, as we are aware, had merely hidden
their arms in the determination to take up fighting whenever
a good chance offered. In order to secure the interests of
the pacific, and keep an eye on the treacherous, General Pretyman
began to organise a corps of Mounted Police for service
in the Free State, at the same time dividing the conquered radius
into sections. Each section was to be administered by a Commissioner
chosen for his experience in Colonial matters. Colonel Girouard,
R.E., also formed a railway corps, employing some ten volunteers
from each regiment to help in the enormous operations now being
set on foot. A change was also made in the postage stamp of the
country. The existing issues of stamps of President Steyn’s Republic
were marked V.R.I. in black ink, and also with figures denoting
their value as recognised by the Imperial Government. The threepenny
stamps were marked with the nominal value of 2½d., to agree
with the twenty-five centimes of the Postal Union. Naturally the
philatelists were all on the alert, and stamps as well as trophies were
fetching absurd prices in the town.

Of recreation there was also a little. On the 18th of April a
somewhat original concert was organised by the war correspondents,
on behalf of the Widows’ and Orphans’ Funds of London and
Bloemfontein. The originality of the scheme and the interest
thereof lay in the fact that conquerors and conquered met together
on the common ground of charity, and mutually contributed to make
the undertaking a success. £300 were realised. Mr. Rudyard
Kipling put forth his quota. He did honour to the Colonials in
verse, and this ditty, to the tune of “Auld Lang Syne,” was sung[Pg 38]
by Miss Fraser, the daughter of Mr. Steyn’s former opponent for
the Presidency. Among the marketables were portraits of Lord
Roberts and Mr. Kruger. These were the work of some of the
artist journalists. “Bobs” was “knocked down” for a big figure,
and became the property of Lord Stanley, a valuable trophy that
may well become an historical heirloom. This concert was only
one of the many efforts at harmony made by Lord Roberts, who,
as diplomatist and statesman as much as soldier and conqueror,
foresaw a future wherein the people of the Free State, originally
actuated by no animosity towards the British, would become reconciled
to the beneficent rule of the British Empire, as contrasting
with the despotic rule of the Boer Republics, and live side by side
with us in the true spirit of liberty, fraternity, and equality enjoyed
by British subjects.

WITH LORD METHUEN—THE BATTLE OF BOSHOF

Against the misfortunes of Koorn Spruit and Reddersburg we
would place one brilliant victory—a victory gained by Lord Methuen
at Boshof, mainly through the smartness, bravery, and unspeakable
steadiness of the Imperial Yeomanry, who were under fire for the
first time, and the splendid dash of the Kimberley Corps, whose
experiences during the siege had lifted them almost to the rank of
veterans.

It may be remembered that Lord Methuen at the end of
February took up the post of Administrator of the Kimberley
district, which extends as far south as the Orange River, subsequently
leaving Colonel Kekewich in command of the local forces.
The General commenced active operations on the western frontier,
for the purpose of clearing the country of rebellious obstructions,
and protecting the lines of communication with the north.

At Boshof there was concentrated a comparatively large army,
composed of two batteries of artillery, about 6000 infantry, and
1000 mounted infantry, which were massing together to march to
Kroonstadt, where they expected eventually to take their place
as the left wing of the main army. The town itself presented
a desolate aspect, all the Dutchmen being absent on commando
under Commandant Duplessis, and being in force on the Vaal
River, some miles distant.

Lord Methuen hearing that a detachment of the enemy was
moving along the Jacobsdal road, and threatening his communications,
ordered Colonel Peakman to effect its capture. As a result
of this order a most successful fight took place, some five miles east
of Boshof, on the 5th of April.

Taking part in the action were two companies of the Bucks[Pg 39]
Yeomanry, one of the Berks Yeomanry, one of the Oxford Yeomanry,
one company of the
Sherwood Rangers, one of the
Yorkshire Yeomanry, and also
the Kimberley Mounted Volunteers.
With these was the
Fourth Battery R.F.A.

Types of Arms.—12-lb. Field Gun of the Elswick (Northumberland Service) Battery. By permission of Messrs. Armstrong,
Whitworth & Co., the makers.

The Imperial Yeomanry
under Lord Chesham on this
occasion had their first chance
of distinguishing themselves
and seized it, behaving, as
some one who looked on said,
“like veteran troops.” The
affair began in haste. A
Yeomanry patrol suddenly discovered
the enemy and announced
his near approach.
There was a rush. “To horse!
to horse!” sang out the troopers
keen for action. Their steeds
were grazing, but in less than
thirty minutes every man was
careering off to duty. The
Boers, some sixty-eight in number,
were tenanting a kopje,
and round their lair the troops
disposed themselves, Lord Scarborough’s
Squadron of Yeomanry
to left, and the Kimberley
Mounted Corps to right. The
rest of the Yeomanry attacked
from the front, occupying two
small kopjes some fourteen hundred
yards distant from the
enemy. These promptly greeted
them with a persistent fusillade.
Then the right flank slowly
began to creep up, taking advantage
of cover as nature had
provided, while the front
marched across the open. This
advance of the troops was
masterly, though no cover was
available till the base of the kopje occupied by the enemy was[Pg 40]
reached. Method and coolness were displayed to a great extent,
and to these qualities was due the day’s success. For three and a
half hours the operations lasted, the men closing gradually in, and
finally surrounding the kopje and storming it. The surrounding
process, both by the Yeomanry and the Kimberley force, was carried
on with amazing skill and coolness till the moment came for which all
were panting. The Yeomanry then fixed bayonets and charged.
A rush, a flash of steel, and then—surrender. The Boers hoisted
a white flag! but even as they did so their comrades poured
deadly bullets on our advancing men. Captain Williams of the
“Imperials,” who was gallantly in advance of his comrades, dropped,
shot dead in the very hour of victory. There was small consolation
in the fact that the murderer was instantly slain by an avenging
hand.

At this time the men had gained the hill and were within seventy
yards of the Boer trenches. But the Boers, notwithstanding their
display of the white flag, continued to blaze with their rifles till a
Yeomanry officer shouted that he would continue to fire unless the
enemy threw down their rifles and put up their hands. This threat
brought the cowards to their senses. They obeyed, and the position
was gained with a rousing, ringing cheer. Then came the sad
part of triumph, the collection of the gallant dead and the succour of
the wounded. Among the first were three, Captains Williams and
Boyle, and Sergeant Patrick Campbell. The enemy’s dead and
wounded numbered fourteen, while our wounded numbered seven.

Captain Cecil Boyle was shot through the temple within eighty
yards of the Boer position while gallantly leading his men. He was
a soldier to the core, one who, merely from a sense of patriotic
responsibility, was among the first to leap to his country’s call, and
who threw into his work so much energy, zeal, and grave purpose
that the atmosphere of the camp made him feel at the end of a week
as if, to use his own words, “I had done nothing but soldiering all
my life.” He, at the invitation of his old chum, Colonel Douglas
Haig, began work at Colesberg “to watch the cavalry operations.”
There he had what he thought the supreme good luck to be appointed
galloper to General French. After the relief of Kimberley
and the capture of Cronje he went to the Cape to meet the Oxfordshire
Yeomanry, and with them gallantly advanced to meet his fate—the
first Yeomanry officer in this history of ours to fall in action.

COLONEL LORD CHESHAM, Imperial Yeomanry


Photo by Russell & Sons, London

At the close of the fight the clouds which had been lowering
over the position like a pall of purple suddenly burst. Torrents
descended, saturating the heated troops and sopping the ground
whereon lay the maimed and slain. With thunder bellowing and
lightning splitting the skies, with an accompaniment of deluge and
darkness, the troops and their prisoners found their way to camp.[Pg 41]
Under cover of the obscurity some of the latter made a wild endeavour
to escape, but the Yeomanry were too proud of their “bag”
to allow a single one to get free, and finally had the satisfaction of
seeing their bedraggled prize lodged in jail.

Lord Methuen commanded, and expressed himself much
gratified with the success of the operations, with the courage and
coolness and method with which all his orders were carried out.
Colonel Peakman, of Kimberley fame, who had already accomplished
a quite unusual record of fighting, displayed an immense
amount of talent in the field, and his corps, in every way worthy of
him, cut off the enemy’s retreat with remarkable skill. So much indeed,
that the Boers complained of the slimness of the troops who, by apparently
retiring hurriedly, drew them within range of the British volleys!
Our troops were pitting themselves now against no unruly or uninitiated
barbarians, for the hostile force was under the command of
the notable Frenchman, Colonel de Villebois-Mareuil. This gallant
officer was killed by shrapnel from the 4th Field Battery Royal
Field Artillery before the display of the white flag by the Boers.
He was accompanied by many of his compatriots, who were taken
prisoners. The force indeed was mainly cosmopolitan, it being
composed of Hollanders, Frenchmen, Germans, and Russians, three
Boers only belonging to the commando. Not a man of the enemy
escaped. Eight were killed, six wounded, and fifty-four polyglot
prisoners, with sixty horses and their baggage, were brought into
camp. Two guns were also captured.

The courage and dash of the Imperial Yeomanry was eulogised
on all sides, even by the Colonials, who hitherto had been somewhat
disposed to look down on their brother Volunteers from civilised and
inexperienced England. The magnificent spirit which inspired one
and all, the grit displayed by the wounded, and their self-abnegation
were the subject of much comment. A Colonial trooper, writing
home his applause, said: “Where all behaved so well it is almost
invidious to mention any one in particular, but as an instance of the
fine spirit which animated them, I would mention two whose names
I have ascertained, Sergeant-Major Coles, of the Bucks Yeomanry,
and Throgmorton, a trooper in the Oxfords. These two continued
in action after being wounded, the former with a bullet through the
shoulder, and the latter with a gunshot wound in the head, and
sooner than crowd the ambulance they rode in afterwards, twelve
miles in the darkness, through one of the worst thunder-storms it has
been my lot to witness. What they must have suffered in the state
they were in they alone know.”

From all accounts the French colonel who fell was entirely confident
of success. Before the engagements he sent an invitation to
his compatriots to join his force. He thought he had discovered the[Pg 42]
flaws in the Boer armour, and was bent on giving the Federals an
object lesson in how to defeat and scatter the British. He also
issued a manifesto addressed to the French legions, the translation
of which ran thus:—

“To the Legionaries, who have known me as their comrade.—Officers, Non-commissioned
Officers, and Men,—I know that you have not forgotten me, and
we understand each other, and therefore I appeal to you. There is here in
front of the Vaal a people whom it is desired to rob of its rights, its properties,
and its liberty in order to satisfy some capitalists by its downfall. The blood
that runs in the veins of this people is in part French blood. France, therefore,
owes to it some striking manifestation of help. Ah, well! You are the
men whom a soldier’s temperament, apart from all the great obligations of
nationality, has gathered under this people’s flag, and may that flag bring
with it the best of fortune! To me you are the finished type of a troop that
attacks and knows not retreat.”

He also wrote to the Parisians:—

“The Dutch are splendid at defence, but they cannot follow up a defeat and
crush the enemy, which the French legionaries would be able to do…. Come
and I will receive you here; and I promise you that very few days shall elapse
before we will show the world the mettle of which the French legionaries are
made.”

The display to unprejudiced onlookers was distinctly poor, however,
and the example of strategy set by the gallant Gaul scarcely
served to demonstrate astounding military genius.

The Colonel’s plan of campaign was nevertheless most carefully
made out, as a document which subsequently fell into Lord
Methuen’s hands served to show. Very dramatic sounds the
orders for the movements on April 4, as translated by the correspondent
of the Daily Telegraph:—

“To-night the detachment of the raid will attack Boshof and follow its
route, under the favour of a surprise and the prevailing darkness. For this
purpose, the following dispositions will be observed: The column will set off at
four o’clock in the afternoon, with the detachment of Boers under Field-Cornet
Daniell, in such a manner as just to reach Boshof by night. At a certain point
the detachment will divide, and will reach their respective places of assembly to
the east and west of the town. Boshof is situated in a plain, and is flanked by
certain kopjes, of which the importance and distance from the town are reported
as follows: to the north, two naked kopjes, weakly guarded, and a good distance
from the town. Between them passes the Hoopstadt-Boshof road. To
the east, on the road to Kimberley, which it commands, one kopje, which is not
guarded by the enemy. Upon this the Boers will take up their position.
Finally, to the south-east of the town, and exactly opposite to it, there is a
kopje, where the English have an outpost of fifty men. On the summit of this
is formed a small parapet of stones, about half the height of a man. This will
form part of the attack reserved for the detachment of the raid.

“The Hoopstadt and Kimberley roads cross in the interior of the town.

“The plan of attack will be carried out under the following conditions: At
eleven o’clock in the evening, the Boers under Field-Cornet Daniell will be in[Pg 43]
position on the Kopje C, and the telegraph wire on the Kimberley road will be cut
by them. At the same time, the raiding party will assemble behind the Kopje
E, situated two kilometres from the town. The horses and the Scotch cart will
there await the final operations, as well as the native servants, if there are any.
One man will be left behind with each team of six horses. Commandant
Saeremburg and Lieutenant de Breda will, before the departure, choose these
men, the importance of whose mission will be readily understood, since upon
their vigilance will depend the safety of the expedition in the event of retreat.
The group left behind will be under the orders of Nicollet. The men will remain
standing at the head of the horses, which will be saddled and bridled, the cart
boys at the head of the mules, all ready harnessed.

“At half-past eleven, the attacking party will march in three échelons,
twenty mètres apart, the centre in the van. The centre échelon, under the
special direction of the General, will be formed by the French platoon. The
centre échelon, commanded by Commandant Saeremburg, will consist of one-half
of the Dutch, and the left, under Lieutenant Bock, of the other half.
Furthermore, the men who have been in the habit of messing together in
groups will appoint a leader, from whom they will on no account separate nor get
out of touch. When these groups do not exist, or exceed ten in number, the
leaders of the party will break them up and form parties of six or eight, and
appoint a head of the group. The General will see these heads of groups at
three o’clock in his camp, to give them instructions further than can be detailed
here.

“In the approaching march the commandants will give their orders in a low
voice, and the men will be ranged in line, so that they can see the heads of
groups and lie down instantly. It is of importance, also, to watch the investigations
of the search-light, if the English have one at Boshof, which has not yet
been ascertained. The moment the ray is turned towards the échelon, the leader
will make his group lie down, and the march will not be resumed until the light
is turned away. At the rise of Kopje D, a halt will be made behind the
cemetery, and the Saeremburg échelon will carry the kopje by assault and will
occupy it. From there it will hold … the two kraals Z Z, where the English
encamped in the market-place in Boshof itself could make the first attempt at
resistance. In no case, for an easily understood reason, will it fire upon the
town. Firing, moreover, can only be carried out by volleys discharged by word
of command given by the head of each group.

“Continuing their march, the two other échelons will pass a well behind the
kraals, and will attack the English camp outside the town. In this effect, the
French échelon, after firing two volleys, will advance at the charge, with the cry,
‘Transvaal and Free State!’ and will thus complete the panic. As there are
no bayonets, the rifles will be kept loaded and carried under the arms at the
position of the charge. After having crossed the camp from the east to the
south, the rout will be accomplished by firing. Lieutenant Bock’s échelon will
remain under the orders of the General, as a reserve, should the Boers placed
on the Kimberley road on the Kopje C have to deal with the fugitives. He
could also render assistance, if the enemy issuing from Boshof should endeavour
to turn the attack. He would then be informed of this eventuality by
Field-Cornet Coleman, who will cover the left of the attack in such a manner as
to observe all that may be menaced. For this purpose, the Afrikanders will
conform to the general movement of the march of approach, and retire as soon
as the attack begins on the west of the English camp to a distance suitable for
observation.[Pg 44]

“To facilitate recognition the brim of the hats will be covered with a white
handkerchief.

“The meagreness of our information does not permit of even an approximate
estimate of the English force. The forces in Boshof seem, however, to be
between 300 and 400 men. Whatever happens, the assailants should remember
that their moral superiority is overwhelming, and even in the event of
retreat, they can easily, covered by the darkness, regain their horses and retire
from Boshof without risk.”

In view of these magnificent preliminaries, one may look without
vanity at the celerity and completeness of the British operations
which were rewarded with victory. The Frenchman’s programme
makes a quaint contrast to the terse description of a
quartermaster-sergeant of the Imperial Yeomanry, who thus sketched
the events of the 5th of April:—

“We received orders to turn out as soon as possible; we were soon all
bustle, caught and saddled our horses, and off we went post-haste. One of
our patrols had been shot in the night by a foraging party of Boers. We
trotted off for about two hours, and then caught them out-spanned at the
bottom of a kopje. We dismounted and got on some more kopjes close by
and began exchanging shots. Then we mounted again, and half of us went
round to their right and half to the left to cut off their retreat; and our
artillery, of which three guns had followed us, began to shell them in front.
When we had got well round them we dismounted again and advanced
to the attack, taking cover. Then, after a few volleys, ran up about
twenty yards; then a few more volleys, and up again until we were within
about a hundred and fifty yards, when we made a rush for it with fixed
bayonets. About seventy yards from the top there was a large wire fence.
We had to clamber through, and then, when we were about fifty yards away,
they came out and surrendered. There were thirteen of them killed, and we
had fifty-four prisoners, amongst them General de Villebois-Mareuil and four
or five more Frenchmen. They had a cart with them full of ammunition and
dynamite, so they were evidently on some foray to blow some bridge or other
up. They were stationed on two kopjes. The one our own lot went against
was on the right. Most of their bullets fell short whilst we were advancing,
and when we made our final rush they went over us. About twenty of them
escaped before we reached them. It was about five o’clock when the fight
was over, and we commenced a twelve-mile march to camp about 5.45.
After going about two miles it came on dark, and we had a very heavy
thunder-storm all the way to camp, which we reached about ten o’clock last
night, wet to the skin.”

The blow so deftly and quickly struck at the marauding parties
of the Boers was valuable from many points of view. It served to
restore confidence in Lord Methuen’s leadership—confidence which
had been considerably shattered by the disaster of Majersfontein—and
it helped to suppress a tendency to raiding in the west of Cape
Colony. So complete a success could not but have a sobering
effect on the rebels, and give them pause in their mad career of
hostility.[Pg 45]

On the 7th of April, at dawn, Lord Methuen marched ten miles
on the Hoopstadt Road to Zwartkopjesfontein Farm without opposition.
On the 8th he proceeded further, but finally, by Lord
Roberts’s orders, retraced his steps to Zwartkopjes. On the 10th,
at daybreak, two flying columns started forth—General Douglas
to south-east and east of the camp, Colonel Mahon (commanding
Kimberley Mounted Corps) from Boshof towards Kimberley.
Colonel Mahon’s movements, on which the relief of Mafeking was
depending, must be taken in detail later on. Lord Methuen
operated in this district till the 17th of May, when he moved to
Hoopstadt and brought his force within the zone of the main
operations. On the 21st he proceeded to Kroonstadt.

In the Kimberley district the First Division had been rearranged
as follows:—

Lieutenant-General Lord Methuen. 9th Brigade (Major-General C. W. H.
Douglas).—1st Northumberland Fusiliers, 1st Loyal North Lancashire, 2nd
Northamptonshire, 2nd Yorkshire Light Infantry. 20th Brigade (Major-General
A. H. Paget).—Composed of Militia Battalions, 4th, 20th, and 44th
Field Batteries; 37th Howitzer Battery. Brigade Imperial Yeomanry (Colonel
Lord Chesham).—1st Battalion, 3rd Battalion, 5th Battalion, 10th Battalion.
Cape Police, Diamond Fields Horse, Part Kimberley Light Horse, Diamond
Fields Artillery.

[Pg 46]

CHAPTER II

MAFEKING, APRIL

On the first Sunday in April Lieutenant Hanbury Tracy,
with two waggons, was sent to bring in the dead, after
the unsuccessful but gallant effort made by Colonel
Plumer to enter the town on the 31st of March. As
has been said, Commandant Snyman’s report of the
number of slain was greatly exaggerated, and the wounded he
would not give up. Captain Crewe, who had died of his injuries,
was buried in the melancholy little cemetery at Mafeking, already
a sad memorial of deeds of daring. Of Lieutenant Milligan nothing
definite was known, and it was believed that he was among those
who had been buried by the Boers. Captain Maclaren (13th
Hussars) was still in the hands of the enemy—a prisoner, and seriously,
if not mortally, wounded. The total casualties on Colonel
Plumer’s side were said to be seventy-eight. Two officers and six
men were killed, three officers and thirty-six men were wounded,
and one officer and eleven men were taken prisoners.

On the 4th of April there was intense joy over the arrival of
Lieutenant Smitheman, who appeared at Mafeking carrying a
despatch for Colonel Baden-Powell from Colonel Plumer. His
appearance was naturally a signal for surprise and excitement, as
every crumb of news from the outside world was precious as
pearls. Previous to this visit only one white man—Reuter’s
cyclist—had succeeded in getting through the Boer lines. Mr.
Smitheman was well acquainted with the country, and had distinguished
himself as a scout in the Matabele campaign. His
latest exploit was full of moment, and there was no doubt that in
thus establishing a link with the garrison his visit would be fraught
with important results when the opportunity to attempt the relief
of the garrison should present itself. This smart officer had made
his way into the beleagured town piloted by a native diviner—a
personage who claimed by means of a rod to ascertain the whereabouts
of Boers, as other diviners have decided the presence of
water. Whether Lieutenant Smitheman owed his safe conduct to
the acumen of the native or to the dexterity of his own actions was
much disputed, but the result was eminently satisfactory.

Commandant Snyman having been absent for a day or two, the[Pg 47]
community enjoyed temporary peace, but on the 6th the tyrant was
back again, and by way of good-morrow his gun “Creaky” blew up
the office of Major Goold Adams. On the 7th, Mr. Smitheman
returned to Colonel Plumer, bearing upon him much serviceable
information. A party of native women endeavoured to escape to
Kanya, but were intercepted by the enemy—stripped, sjamboked,
and forced to return. There was also a smart fight between the
Boers and some Fingoes, who had gone on a cattle-raiding
expedition. These defended themselves valiantly for twenty-five
hours, but only one man was left to tell the tale. This man succeeded
in crawling to the shelter of some reeds, and thus escaped
unobserved.

The Native Village of Mafeking.

The following correspondence now passed between Commandant
Snyman and Colonel Baden-Powell in reference to the former’s
alleged employment of “barbarians” by the British in cattle-raiding
expeditions:—

“Marico Laager, Molopo, April 7.

“To his Honour Colonel Baden-Powell, Mafeking.

“Enclosed I beg to send to you a copy of a pass signed ‘A. T. Mackenzie,
Black Watch,’ and dated April 4, which is a clear proof that Kaffirs are sent
out, with your Honour’s knowledge, naturally, as head officer, to plunder, rob,
and murder. I am very sorry to see that tyranny carries away the good[Pg 48]
nature of so polite a nation as the English. They know that the barbarians
have nothing else in view. Twenty Kaffirs were sent last week in a northerly
direction by an English officer, according to the statement of a wounded native
who was taught a lesson by one of my burghers. Thirty-two were sent on
the 4th, according to a pass found in the pockets of one of the killed. They
were all shot yesterday. I request you to be kind enough to fetch the bodies.
Please send an ambulance under a Red Cross flag in the direction of Canton
Kopje, and notify me immediately the waggons have left. I will send some of
my burghers to point out the battle-field.—Your Honour’s obedient servant,

“J. P. Snyman.”

“Mafeking, April 7.

“To his Honour General Snyman.

“Sir,—I have the honour to acknowledge your letter of to-day. In regard
to the pass signed ‘Mackenzie,’ this man had no authority to issue a pass of
any kind, much less for the purpose stated. I am obliged to you for bringing
the case to my notice. As regards your Honour’s statement that your burghers
killed thirty-two natives, I beg to inform you that I know nothing whatever
about these men. They were certainly not acting under orders received from
myself, nor, so far as I am aware, from any of my officers. I would point out
that there are a number of natives about the country in a destitute condition
owing to their homes having been burnt and their cattle stolen by your burghers,
and it is only too probable that they have taken the law into their own hands
to endeavour to obtain food. Of this I have warned your honour before. For
their acts I must decline to be held in any way responsible.—I have the honour
to be your obedient servant,

R. S. S. Baden-Powell,
Colonel commanding H.M. troops in Mafeking.”

On the 10th of April, in the dead of night, the enemy’s field-guns
were moved to positions completely surrounding the town, and shells
were poured in with unparalleled persistency. Thirty dropped
into the women’s laager—four into the hospital. Under cover of
the bombardment the Boers, who had been reinforced by a German
corps, made an attack on Fort Abrams, which they imagined had
been disabled by their shell-fire. They were somewhat amazed to
find that the garrison of the fort was not only alive, but kicking.
The corporal in charge, who had calmly waited till his assailants had
got within range, suddenly poured a fierce volley on the approaching
numbers. Result: five of the enemy were left on the field, to
be recovered later under a Red Cross flag. The effects of bombardment
were many and various. At one time the Dutch Church
was struck, at another some shells bounded on the roadway, flew
through the air straight across the town, landing with awful detonations
a mile on the other side. Some failed to burst, and then the
duty of extracting the charge was a ticklish one. One man in so
doing was blown to ribbons, pieces of him being cast to the winds
and picked up quite a hundred yards from the scene of the disaster.
Another man was so forcibly struck that a portion of leg and boot
were forced through the iron-roofed verandah some seventy yards off![Pg 49]
Every house was pocked with its melancholy tale. There were
holes you could jump through in the ceiling of some of the rooms,
while others were shattered past recognition. Dixon’s Hotel had its
end smashed, and the market-place bore signs of merciless battering.

SERGEANT—18th HUSSARS


Photo by Gregory & Co., London

On the 12th a welcome guest came in the form of a pigeon,
bearing a message from Colonel Plumer. No small creature of
the winged tribe had ever before conveyed so much satisfaction,
save perhaps the first prominent performer in the days of the ark.
News also arrived by runner, of Mr. Smitheman’s safe arrival, and
a message from her Majesty was delivered to Colonel Baden-Powell.
This kindly expression of the Sovereign’s sympathy was
highly appreciated, and served to inspirit the whole community.

Later, a splendid effort was made by Colonel Plumer’s force to
run a herd of cattle into the town. A party of Baralongs, under a
native captain, got to within seven miles of the town when they
were attacked on both flanks by the enemy. They nevertheless
pursued their way, screening themselves as far as possible behind
the bodies of the cattle, which were driven in front of them. But
the Boer fire was unerring, and soon only fifteen of the poor beasts
remained. These, at last, had to be abandoned, for owing to the lack
of ammunition the cattle-runners were forced to make themselves
scarce. Such as were wounded were left behind, and were murdered
by the Boers. Several native women who, from fear of
starvation, attempted to pierce the Boer lines, were also put to
death. This behaviour much incensed the British, for the Baralongs
had from the first earned the esteem of the community by
their unswerving loyalty. Major Baillie, writing home, eulogised
their conduct, and expressed a hope that their devotion would be
recognised at the end of the war. He said:—

“After the first day’s shelling the mouthpiece of the Baralong
tribe, Silas Molemo, came up to Mr. Bell, the resident magistrate,
and said to him, ‘Never mind this; we will stick to you and see it
through,’ which they certainly have done. They are not a tribe
who would make a dashing attack, or, to use the expression, ‘be
bossed up’ to do things which they don’t particularly want to; but,
given a defensive position, they will hang on to it for all they are
worth, as they have proved many times during the war in the
defence of their stadt. They have had their cattle raided, their
outlying homesteads destroyed, their crops for this year are nil, and
all through a time when the outlook to a native mind must have
seemed most black they have unswervingly and uncomplainingly
stuck to us, and never hesitated to do anything they were called
on to do.” (It is pleasant to note that after the relief the Baralongs
received formal recognition of their splendid loyalty.)

“The better the day, the better the deed,” was evidently the motto[Pg 50]
of the Boers, for on Good Friday they applied their energies to the
construction of new trenches and fortifications about fifteen hundred
yards beyond their former position. In order not to be behind the
times, the bread ration of the day was marked with a cross, to do duty
as a “hot cross bun.” On the following day misfortune hung over
the place, for two troopers, Molloy and Hassell, belonging to the
Fort Ayr garrison, were caught by a shell and mortally wounded.
On Easter Day there were sports to revive the spirits of the
garrison.

On the 19th of April the Creusot gun was withdrawn, and the
inhabitants took heart. To vary their menu they now engaged in
a locust haul, the result of which was to supply a third variant to
the bill of fare. Lady Sarah Wilson, telegraphing to her friends,
described her diet of horse sausages, minced mule, and curried
locusts! The latter insects were reported to be tender as chicken
and as tasty as prawn “almondised.” The natives had a good meal,
and visibly grew fat. On the following day a telegram was received
from Lord Roberts requesting the garrison to hold out till
the 18th of May. It was disappointing, none could deny, but they
consoled themselves that a message showing they were marked
down in the programme of “coming events” was better than
nothing at all. Fortunately the food still held out. Water—pure
water—was rare as Edelweiss, and liquor of other kind was unobtainable.
Only money was what our friends on the Stock
Exchange call “tight.” The bank was closed to the general public,
and her Majesty’s presentment upon a coin was a prize to be
cherished and clung to till—well, till the crack of doom should make
the ever-promised and never-realised relief unnecessary.

But the great food problem well-nigh exhausted all the energies
of those concerned with it. Captain Ryan, D.A.A.G., sat daily in
the interior of his bomb-proof office receiving a procession of persons
who filed in to make their impossible demands, and deliberating
on the curious fact that the stomach rules the world. The honour
of the British Empire at that moment hung by a mere thread—it
was a question of how slender a thread of nourishment could
keep body and soul tacked together to represent the figure of an
Englishman! Nevertheless Mafeking, like Kimberley, was bound
to have its marriage bells. A Dutch bride, ignorant of English,
was led to the altar by a private of the Bechuanaland Rifles,
ignorant of Dutch. Philosophers predicted considerable felicity,
as between them the couple had sufficient language for love-making
and scarce sufficient for controversy.

At this time Captain Ryan made a statement regarding the
supplies of the town, which serves to show the pitch to which
caution was carried:[Pg 51]—

“The total number of white men is approximately 1150, of white women
400, and of white children 300. The coloured population consists of some 2000
men, 2000 women, and 3000 children.

“Both the white and coloured men originally received eight ounces of
bread. The allowance has now been reduced to six, but a quart of soup is
given to make up the deficiency. Half a gallon of sowan porridge a day will
sustain life. The recipients are of three classes; those who receive it in lieu of
two ounces of bread; those who wish to purchase food over and above the
quantity to which they are entitled; those who are absolutely destitute, both
black and white, and who receive the porridge free. It has been suggested
that the natives should not be charged for sowan porridge, but it is thought unwise
to pauperise either blacks or whites. If any profit has been made from the
sale by the end of the siege it will be employed in buying grain for the many
native women and children in Mafeking who have been involved in a quarrel
which is not theirs.

“The horse soup is made from the carcasses of animals which had ceased to
be serviceable and those killed by the enemy’s fire, as well as horses and
donkeys purchased from individuals who can no longer afford to keep them.
This soup is unpopular among the natives, but this is due rather to prejudice
than to its quality.

“The distribution of supplies is entirely under Imperial control. The Army
Service Corps possesses a slaughter-house, a bakery, and a grocery, at which
the authorities receive and distribute all vegetables, and it receives and distributes
milk to the hospital, to women and children, and to men who have been
medically certified to need it.

“At present the hospital is supplied with white bread, and it is hoped that
the supply will be continued. Hospital comforts are issued to such as are in
need of them, both in and out patients, on receipt of an order from a medical
officer. For the nurses and doctors, who work day and night, the authorities
endeavoured to provide slightly better rations than those available for the
general community. Our sources of supply have been chiefly through Mr.
Weil, who had a large stock on hand for the provisioning of the garrison,
until the contract terminated at the beginning of February. Since then supplies
have been collected from various merchants, storekeepers, and private
persons and stored in the Army Service Corps depôt, and from the original
Army Service Corps stocks, of which forage and oats formed a great proportion.
Fresh beef is obtained by purchase from a private individual named
White, and in a lesser degree from the natives.

“Breadstuffs are obtained, like groceries, by commandeering the stocks of
various merchants and private persons.”

Lord Roberts now commuted the sentence of the court-martial
which tried Lieutenant Murchison for the murder of Mr. Parslow
to one of penal servitude for life. Many of those who had
been associated with this officer did not consider him responsible
for his actions, and were relieved at the lightening of the punishment
of a comrade-in-arms.

On the 27th Colonel Baden-Powell sent the following message
to Lord Roberts:—

“After two hundred days’ siege I desire to bring to your lordship’s
notice the exceptionally good spirit of loyalty that pervades all[Pg 52]
classes of this garrison. The patience of everybody in Mafeking in
making the best of things under the long strain of anxiety, hardship,
and privation is beyond all praise, and is a revelation to me. The
men, half of whom are unaccustomed to the use of arms, have
adapted themselves to their duties with the greatest zeal, readiness,
and pluck, and the devotion of the women is remarkable. With
such a spirit our organisation runs like clockwork, and I have every
hope it will pull us successfully through.”

Postage Stamps issued at Mafeking during the Siege.

At this time, the Boers being more peaceful, the citizens prepared
to celebrate the two hundredth day of the siege by horse
dinners. Various other mysterious meats, whose origin none dared
investigate, appeared on the bill of fare. One lady developed a
genius for treating the meat rations, and went so far as to give a
dinner-party. Her process was elaborate. The meat ration was
cut up and the objectionable pieces removed. It was then soaked
in salt and water for three hours, and made into soup thickened with
starch. The next course was the beef out of the soup, served with
potato tops, which were found most delectable. Then came a
sowans pudding. Sowans proved a failure when served as porridge
or curry, but when the preparation was mixed with starch, bicarbonate
of soda, and baking powder, people were swift to partake.

In addition to the usual delicacies, minced mule and the aforesaid
sowan porridge, invented by an ingenious Scottish crofter of
the name of Sims, there was now manufactured a curious brawn of
horsehide, which was generally sneered at but devoured with alacrity.
Curio hunters longed to preserve a slab of it for presentation to
the British Museum, but the feat of self-abnegation was too hard
to be endured. Besides, as some philosopher said while putting
it into a place of safety, it would be the highest horse that was ever
exhibited by the time it got there, and the building wouldn’t hold it.
The community was almost entirely a teetotal one. “Wee drappies”
grew so wee as to be almost invisible, and when a case of whisky
was raffled for it fetched £107, 10s.![Pg 53]

On the 29th a military tournament was held, whereat a great
display of cheerfulness was affected, to cover the fact that fever,
malarial and typhoid, was gaining ground in the hospitals.

AFFAIRS IN RHODESIA

The Rhodesian troops were now at Moshwana, British Bechuanaland,
in camp some thirty miles from Mafeking. The small
force with a single serviceable gun could really accomplish little,
and it was marvellous, considering its extreme weakness, how it
managed to maintain the aggressive at all.

Early in April Colonel Plumer started a pigeon post, and the
first pigeon despatched arrived at Mafeking within four hours. The
second was not so fortunate, but later on the successful bird was
sent off again, on an educational trip, with younger birds in its
wake.

On the 22nd Trooper Brindal of the Rhodesian Regiment died
of the wounds sustained in the action on the 31st of March. Archdeacon
Upcher and Father Hartman returned from the sad mission
of discovering and burying the remains of Lieutenant Milligan, who
fell at Ramathlabama. The enemy now were being reinforced from
time to time by parties from east and south, and as far as could be
ascertained by Colonel Plumer, who sent out native runners to
apprise him of the doings of the southern relief column, the Boers
around Mafeking numbered about 3000.

On the 24th General Carrington’s force, consisting of 1100
men, with mounts and transports, arrived at Beira, and proceeded from
thence to Marandellas, twenty-five miles from Salisbury, the capital
of Rhodesia. The route, the first 200 miles of which is through
Portuguese territory, is covered by railway. The distance from
Beira to Salisbury is some 375 miles. The Beira railway was
carried in 1898 as far as New Umtali, where it was connected with
the system of the Mashonaland Railway Company. At Salisbury
the railway ceases, and between this point and Bulawayo, the terminus
of the Cape Railway, a space of 280 miles needed to be
covered by an extension. From Bulawayo all promised to be plain
sailing, as, owing to the untiring energies of Colonel Plumer and
his small force—whose valuable services have never been sufficiently
esteemed—the road and rail to Mafeking had been protected and
preserved.

On the 28th, Lieutenant Moorson left Mafeking and reached
Colonel Plumer’s camp at noon of the 29th, conveying to him the
latest intelligence, and helping him to formulate plans for the big
project of relief which will be described anon.

[Pg 54]

CHAPTER III

THE SIEGE OF WEPENER

Early in April a portion of the Colonial Division, composed
of Cape Mounted Rifles, the Royal Scots Mounted
Infantry, Driscoll’s Scouts, Kaffrarian Mounted Rifles
under Captain Price, Brabant’s Horse, two 15-pounders,
two naval 12-pounders, two 7-pounders, one Hotchkiss,
and three Maxims, the whole force under Colonel Dalgety,
crossed the Caledon Bridge at Jammersberg Drift, took possession
of it as the most important strategetical point, and occupied
the town of Wepener without opposition. The Colonel had no
sooner done so than he was surrounded by Dutchmen, and made
aware that he must prepare to stand a siege. A party of Boers
accompanying a German officer, who were blindfolded before being
brought in, now entered Wepener bearing a message from the
commandant. He very kindly demanded the instant surrender of
the British to save further bloodshed. The messengers retired
without taking with them a reply to the considerate request, but
asking whether some mistake had not been made, and inviting their
surrender instead. As the Boers were now threatening an attack
on the force, Sir G. Lagden demanded a demonstration by the
Basutos on the Basuto border. This was readily responded to, for
the nation naturally resented any invasion of their territory by their
hereditary foes; and, moreover, the chiefs had been vastly impressed
by the “big heart” of the Englishmen with whom they had come
in contact, and their stubborn resistance of the Boer attacks.
Wepener itself was evacuated, but a camp at Jammersberg, three
miles off, was formed, entrenchments made, and defences ingeniously
constructed. The position, somewhat resembling Ladysmith, was
situated in the saucer-shaped hollow of many hills. It was practically
isolated, but the lines were strong, and meat was plentiful.

Colonel Dalgety, who commanded the gallant little force, is an old
officer of the Cape Mounted Rifles, and has as a record of services the
Gaika and Galeka expeditions, and the operations in Basutoland in
1880-81. He had no doubt in his ability to hold out against the
besiegers, although the force was only 1700 to 1800 strong, and the
position was really too extensive. To protect it properly required
about 4000 men. The Cape Mounted Rifles, with a company of[Pg 55]
Royal Scots, were ordered to hold the left of the position, the weakest
point; 1st Brabants and some Kaffrarian Rifles the front; 2nd
Brabants the right; and Kaffrarian Rifles the rear.

A stirring day’s work was recorded on the 8th by an officer,
whose experiences were published in the Globe:—

“April 8, 7 A.M.—As I write, with my back against the trench, we have
reached the fifth day of the noisy concert without any appreciable result, except
that we have expended most of our ammunition. Not a gun has been dismounted,
not an inch of our long line of defence (ten miles, about) been yielded
to the enemy; but about 150 gallant fellows, mostly gentlemen by birth, of the
Colonial Division, are hors de combat, and we are still looking and longing
to see the relief columns of Kitchener or Gatacre appear on the horizon….
While sitting chatting with Captain Cholmondley, I saw across the ravine my
own squadron, ‘M,’ descending rapidly into the valley to reoccupy the rifle-pits
which Ruttledge had vacated at daylight, and exposed to a heavy shrapnel
fire. I scrambled down the ridge and joined them at the pits, but had scarcely
got my men posted, when Cookson was seen coming towards us at a mad
gallop. My orders were to leave one troop (Ruttledge’s) in the rifle-pits, and
take the other three to support Colonel Dalgety, who was hard pressed on our
left rear. I should have to cross a plain swept by the Boer fire.

“When I had climbed up the steep ravine on the top of the main ridge we
found all our horses hidden away in a fold of the ground. To mount was the
work of a minute, and then we were launched on our mad gallop across a plain
swept by Boer Maxim and rifle fire. I led, and the men followed most gallantly
into the ‘jaws of death.’ Nothing but annihilation seemed to await us; but
on we swept over that mile and a half like wild men, an excited American, constantly
by my side and sometimes ahead of me, shouting, ‘In the joy of battle.’
It was, I think, the most exciting quarter of an hour I have spent in my adventurous
life. My horse was going at racing pace, when suddenly I came upon
a kranze, down which I leaped in fox-hunting style. I thought this would
finish all my bad riders; but although they tailed off somewhat into a longer
line than the open order I had ordered, they were still in the ruck, and we all
came together somewhat too closely at a wire fence, which brought us to a
standstill. Having negotiated this, we came upon another similar one, which
we all got through somehow. All this time the little columns of dust were
rising all round and constantly under my horse’s belly. Again we were brought
up by a deep donga, along which we had to turn to our right and skirt it till
it was negotiable, where the banks had been cut down on each side for the
horses of the C.M.R. to cross. I made then for a group of dismounted
horses held in shelter behind a strong causeway. Here was Dalgety, to whom
I reported myself. In a few minutes the Boers brought another gun into position,
which sent a shell into us, killing four gun mules linked together in their
harness, six troop horses, one of mine, and one nigger, who was holding the
mules. They fell in a heap, and presented a most gruesome appearance. One
or two men were also wounded by the same shell, which was the signal for a
skurry for shelter behind huge boulders. The horses were sent down to the
donga before mentioned, where, though sheltered from shot and shell, they
spent four miserable days, until at last a heavy rain filled the donga, and some
of the horses were swimming. All had had their saddles on from the first day.
Some of these had been torn off by the horses’ frantic efforts to get out, and[Pg 56]
were lost in the mud. Finally they all got out, and covered the plains under the
Boer fire. Many of them were shot.

“After the deadly shell I began to count up my men and find out how many
were missing after the charge across the plain, and the last dose of shrapnel.
To my surprise, they all answered to their names excepting two. Macarthy
had been struck full in the forehead by a Mauser bullet, and fell from his horse
as one dead. He is now recovering. Reid, an American, was shot through
the side and arm, and is also recovering. Turner, my senior lieutenant, had
been struck in the hip with a bit of segment shell, but stuck most pluckily to
his post.”

The officer went on to narrate an episode which deserves to be
remembered among the deeds of heroism which distinguished this
notable period: “Coming across from the C.M.R. lines towards
the Kaffrarian lines was a stretcher carried by four men with a
wounded man on it. As soon as it came from under the shelter of
the kopje on which we and the C.M.R. live, about 1200 yards from
the ridge held by the enemy, opposite the open end of the horse-shoe,
it was received by a hail of bullets. On went the gallant
bearers for about a hundred yards, when they came to a sudden
stand, put the stretcher on the ground, and seemed to consult.
First one ran about twenty yards, to fall, apparently shot dead;
then another did the same, and the third; and the three corpses
were lying on the ground. The fourth man fell on his knees between
the stretcher and the enemy. The Boers, then satisfied that
they had disposed of this lot, ceased firing at them for the space of
some minutes, when suddenly the four dead men came to life, rushed
to the stretcher, and went on with it at the double, though little
columns of dust rose thicker than ever round the devoted bearers.
When they had crossed the fire zone and came under the shelter of
a small kopje, something very like a cheer rose from the three hundred
spectators of this exciting scene. Putting the breach of the
Geneva Convention out of the question, there could not be a better
exemplification of the savagery of the Boers. Even a savage foe
would have respected such courage as these men showed in their
efforts to save their wounded comrade. The wounded man turned
out to be Captain Goldsworthy of the C.M.R., wounded in two
places, whom I afterwards saw in hospital here, and the one who
shielded him with his own body was a young trumpeter in the
C.M.R., who, I believe, will get the V.C.”

(Corporal)

(Sergeant)

MOUNTED INFANTRY


Photo by Gregory & Co., London

On the 8th a commando some 2000 strong, with four guns, laagered
five miles out in the direction of Dewetsdorp, and on the 9th the
town of Wepener was occupied by the Boers, who, in number
from 5000 to 6000, spread themselves crescentwise around the
British position. Not long were they inactive. Their guns began
to open on the camp, and received a prompt answer from the[Pg 57]
15-pounders. A vigorous artillery duel, involving great loss to the
besieged, was then kept up throughout the day.

A member of the stalwart band gave his impressions of the first
days of the fighting: “The brave lot of fellows of the C.M.R.
were stormed at until we almost gave up hope that any human
being could stand against it; but very fortunately for us they did
so, and although the Boers came almost behind them and enfiladed
their trenches, killing and wounding between sixty and seventy of
the regiment. Goodness knows how many of the Boers were killed.
Their losses must have been great, no matter what they may say
afterwards. Towards daylight the enemy retired to their former
position, and at daybreak the fight went merrily on its way, but,
luckily, shifted from the poor played-out C.M.R. for a few hours.
Major Sprenger, poor fellow, was simply riddled with bullets. Captain
Goldsworthy and Major Waring, together with several other
officers, were wounded, and now the C.M.R. are commanded by
only a few officers, including their most gallant Colonel Dalgety.
Captain Cookson, another of their officers, is an especial favourite
with our men, as he looks after them as well as his own men in
action. He fears no dangers, and so instils confidence into others.

“All went well with us until the good-night shell, which bursts
over our camp about six o’clock each night, arrived. Cookson and
I were superintending the sending of the food to the trenches, where
our brave men were so bravely holding their own, when I heard
the whistle of the shell and heard it burst, and simultaneously was
knocked down by a shrapnel bullet, which, fortunately for yours
truly, did not penetrate far into my thigh. As no bones were
broken, I hope—in fact, I am sure—I shall be able to walk in a day
or two from now. Lieutenant Duncan, also wounded in the leg,
and myself were placed in a small schanze, erected for the purpose,
but as there was no roof to it, and the rain poured for hours during
the night, we were soaked to the bone. It could not be helped,
there being no other place in which to put us; so we did not complain.
It was just as well we did not go to the hospital, which is
already overcrowded—no fewer than 110 wounded men there—as
I learn that one of our wounded men was yesterday killed in it with
a Boer bullet; in fact, the Boers several times fired at it. We now
have a waggon sail over our schanze, and feel nice and comfortable.
We expect to be able to move about by Easter Sunday. Captain
Hamilton has been very kind; comes to visit us two or three times
a day, and runs a strong chance of being shot, as the snipers shoot
at every one who shows himself. He is only one of the lot; they
are all the same.”

The Defence of Wepener. (From a Sketch by Major A. Festing.)

On Tuesday, the 10th, came more duelling. In the morning
with artillery, in the afternoon with rifles. The Cape Mounted[Pg 58]
Rifles did good execution,
for the Boers who had approached
to 250 yards of
their position were forced to
remove. An officer of Brabant’s
Horse spoke most enthusiastically
of the C.M.R.
He said:—

“We fought all day and
all night. The big gun and
rifle fire were almost deafening,
and as we are entirely
surrounded, it was
pouring in on all sides, a
continuous hail of shot and
shell. Towards afternoon
they directed all their gun
fire to one spot, and blew
to bits the schanzes of the
C.M.R., thus leaving them
almost unprotected, and in
the night they attempted to
take the position by assault.
Although the C.M.R. were
very considerably outnumbered,
the Boers were unable
to attain their object. They
had not reckoned on the
opposition of, undoubtedly,
one of the finest regiments
in the whole world, as the
C.M.R. are. We (1st Brabants)
were unable to send
reinforcements to the gallant
fellows, as we expected an
attack ourselves at any moment,
and our position is
such an extended one, that
it required every man to
hold it. If only we had a
few hundreds more to hold
the trenches with us, and an
ample supply of ammunition,
we would be quite
happy.[Pg 59]”

The scarcity of ammunition began to cause anxiety, and also the
condition of the atmosphere. The air was almost unbreathable.
Fumes from dead horses, cows, pigs, which were strewed on the
surrounding plains, rose in sunshine or rain as from a caldron of
pestilence. There was no avoiding them, and death by worse than
shot and shell—by slow ravaging malaria, or greedy epidemic—seemed
to be traced by the finger of expectation across the foul
atmosphere. No longer was there pleasure in gazing out at the
beautiful green hills, that but a little while ago had been speckled
with white tents and draped with the ethereal gossamer of blue
smoke from the fitful flame of the camp fires. War had sounded its
most discordant note—hard—emphatic. The tents were all struck.
On the ground they lay prone, battered by the pouring rain. Camp
fires were now few and far between, and the only smoke to be seen
came from the snorting nozzles of implements of death. The rattle
of musketry made the melody of day and night. The men, huddled
up in their trenches, rained on by heaven-sent storm, rained on by
hell-sent shrapnel, unable to raise a head lest the movement would
be their last, still remained glorious fellows, cheery, jocose, hailing
the humours of their tragic position with shouts of laughter, and
skipping, with true heroism, the ghastly and the terrible that thrust
itself between them and their courage.

One of their number described the trenches as “simply ordinary
trenches dug in the ground, with the earth and stones thrown out on
the front side, strengthened by sand-bags. During the first day’s
fighting they were not very good, and the heavy losses sustained
were attributable to that fact. The men improved them during the
night, however, and they grew and grew until they were really like
rabbits burrowing into the ground. During the shelling men would
sit or lie down under the bank, and it was wonderful how the
trenches protected them. Some of the trenches had hundreds of
shells fired into them during the day, and as long as the men kept
well down, they got off comparatively lightly. It was a fearful
strain, however, as you might be crouching behind a traverse of sand-bags,
when thump would come a shell and knock the sand-bags all
over the place, upon which you would have to skip into the traverse
and expose yourself while doing so to a hail of bullets from the Boer
snipers. As the Boers were all round us, they brought guns to bear
from different points, so as to enfilade the trenches, so we had
to build transverse walls, sand-bags, or traverses to protect ourselves.
The front Cape Mounted Rifles’ trenches were fearfully battered
during the day, and the tired men had to patch them up as best they
could during the night. During the day we could not show our
heads over the parapets, as there would immediately come a volley
from the Boer riflemen.[Pg 60]”

All the troops had unceasing work, but most of the casualties fell
to the share of those in the southern position—the Cape Mounted
Rifles, Captain Garner’s Squadron of Brabant’s Horse, Captain
Seel’s Company of Royal Scots Mounted Infantry, and Driscoll’s
energetic scouts. The Kaffrarians, commanded by Captain Price
elsewhere in four different positions to east and west—took their
share of the defence, while on the heights north-east and north-west,
the 1st and 2nd Regiments of Brabant’s Horse, under Major Henderson
and Colonel Grenfell respectively, also worked incessantly
to protect the garrison.

The object of the concentration of the Boers around this region
was supposed to be connected with offering opposition to General
Brabant’s advance, but the Dutchmen in their policy were somewhat
uneasy, owing to their close proximity to the Basuto border.

Their alarm was not without reason, for if there was a force
eager to attack them it was the Basutos, and these were only held
back from rushing into the fray by the personal influence of Sir
Godfrey Lagden and his British colleagues, who can never sufficiently
be applauded for the skill and diplomacy with which they
managed to keep, by invisible moral coercion, a fiery horde from
rushing over the borders and possibly massacring such Free Staters
as came in their way. The Boers, however, were not conscious of
this coercion, and consequently their action around Wepener was
somewhat cramped, and thus it was that the little community
managed to defy them. Meanwhile discomforts were many, and
the clouds often emptied themselves like a vast shower-bath involving
doused trenches, drenched clothing, and the suspension of
operations. On the 11th a cheery message was received from
Lord Kitchener, who paid a visit to Aliwal North, and from
thence sent word that he hoped “for an early change” in the circumstances
of the besieged. Spirits rose. What Kitchener, the
adamantine, said was sure to be done. On Thursday, 12th, the
fourth day of fierce fighting, the Boers continued their aggression all
day. During the contest an entertaining interlude in the drama of
warfare took place. The enemy was busy shelling one of the
garrison’s 15-pounders, when a shot knocked off the left sight of
Captain Lukin’s gun. The Captain, generous in his admiration,
jumped on top of the gun and made a complimentary salaam to the
Boer gunner. Later on, by using the reserve sight on the right
side, he himself planked a shell right into the adversary’s gunpit,
whereupon the officer in charge, imitating Captain Lukin’s example,
promptly leapt up and bowed his congratulations!

During the night of the 12th the Dutchmen attempted another
attack, but volley after volley was poured into them with such
animation that by 4 A.M. they were glad enough to retire. Fortu[Pg 61]nately
not a man was killed or wounded, and those who had so well
defended themselves felt a somewhat natural satisfaction in seeing
the Boer ambulances at work the next morning. Soon it was
rumoured that the Boers were bringing up another gun, and the
garrison, who were beginning to get tired of being peppered at by
guns big and small, began to long for the arrival of reinforcements.

Friday the 13th, the following Saturday and Sunday, were used
by the Boers for their Easter devotions—not that they were too
devout to enjoy a little sniping in the intervals. Nasal hymns took
the place of the snorts of Long Tom, but after the reiterations of
the Vickers Maxim the Federals resumed their bombardment with
renewed zest, and Oom Sam, the British howitzer, took up the
tune. Unfortunately, the Dutchmen resorted to expansive bullets.
One of the commandants tried to assert that these were captured
from the British, but truth not being the Boer forte, no effort was
made to refute the vile impeachment.

The garrison next made a dashing sortie and captured a Boer
gun. Aggressive action was necessary. Reinforcements were daily
reaching the besiegers, and hostile gangs were collecting in the
vicinity of Dewetsdorp. These soon gathered round the plucky
British force, which, to protect itself, launched out with such vigour
that the Boers, especially the Zastrom Commando, who had assaulted
to a jubilate, retreated to a dirge. The women wept, and the men
themselves grew anxious, for the Basutos, warlike and excited, were
massing on the border, and a sword of Damocles, in the form of
an exasperated legion of natives, threatened to drop on the Dutchmen’s
heads. They were getting into difficulties on all sides. One
of Olivier’s guns was smashed, and another had been captured in the
sortie by the Cape Mounted Rifles. But the energies of this
sprightly corps had also cost them dear. During the four days’
fighting, from the 9th to the 13th, eighteen were slain and 132
wounded! The men on the south-western fringe fared worse even
than the others. They feared to cook in their trenches lest they
should attract the Boer fire, and meals brought from adjacent
shelters were cold before they could reach them. Such reviving and
inspiriting refreshment as hot tea or coffee was almost unknown,
and as a natural consequence, particularly in such damp weather,
warmth external and internal was most craved for and very generally
missed. Washing was a luxury not to be thought of, indeed, a
rain bath in a trench had to serve all purposes. The strain of such
conditions on the men was most trying, and the account given by
one of the officers was far from exaggerated. “They had to go into
their trenches on the night of the 8th, and from then till the 25th
they had to stay in them, crouching in them all day while being
heavily shelled and ‘sniped’ at by the enemy’s riflemen. During[Pg 62]
the night a couple of men from each trench would be sent to the
place near the centre of the position where the food was prepared
and take it up to their comrades. Cooking could only be done at
night in dongas, and behind cover, such as walls, &c., and by the
time the food got to the men it was ice cold, so the poor fellows,
or the majority, in the forward trenches did not get anything hot in
the shape of food or drink for eighteen days. Night was a blessed
relief, as they could get out of the trenches and stretch themselves,
but to cap our misery we had several days’ heavy rain, and the
trenches got full of water. The fellows had to bale it out with
buckets, patrol tins, and even hats, I believe. Those rainy nights
were awful, and the men were getting quite ‘jumpy.’ I really
thought some of them would lose their reason, and was quite
prepared to find some dead from exposure in the morning. However,
the rain stopped in time, otherwise we would have been in
great danger as the men could not have stood it. There is a
limit to human endurance.”

The investment had no showy nor picturesque characteristics: it
was just a case of stern resistance, of obdurate endurance, that was
infinitely more exigent in its demands on the human character than
the brilliant soul-stirring deeds of open battle. Fortunately the
Boers were getting correspondingly uncomfortable. They had
surrounded Wepener, it is true, but, with a native guard of some
3000 strong assembled to prevent any encroachments on the Basutoland
border, they remained where they were at their peril, and
every hour brought with it the chance of being hemmed in on
all sides. Yet they stuck on, inspired with the belief that by
some, for them, lucky chance Colonel Dalgety might drop into
their hands. Meanwhile the natives were assisting the besieged
to the best of their power, and the resident Commissioner at
Mafeteng was exerting himself to provide ambulances and medical
stores, in hope of being able to forward them should opportunity
offer. The charitable arrangement was much appreciated, for the
state of affairs was far from salubrious. Apart from sick and
wounded, many of the Boers, after the night attack of the 12th,
had left their comrades unburied, and the bodies were still lying in
the mill furrow, to the distress of those shut up within the narrow
confines of the camp. The Caledon River now rose and added
to the alarm of the Federals, who were aware that if it should
become in flood they would undoubtedly be cut off. At the
same time those within the besieged area were also beginning
to get additionally concerned. Ammunition for the howitzer was
running low, and the rifle ammunition promised to hold out but
for a very limited period. Messages were continually being received
from Lord Roberts, who heliographed via Mafeteng congratulating[Pg 63]
the troops on their brave defence, and assuring them that he was
keeping a watchful eye on them. This should have been consoling,
but every hour, every instant, was now of importance. Still there
was no lack of pluck. These men who had beaten the Boers three
times were confident that they would make a good fight of it to
the last. “We’ll not surrender till half of us are killed,” they said,
and the gallant fellows, in their trenches, under a storm of shot
and shell, pursued their games of cards as though they meant to
“sit tight till Doomsday.” Of them an officer writing at this time
said: “The defence, so far, has been heroic. In the Crimea
twenty-four hours on and twenty-four hours off was considered hard
work. My men have been ten days in their trenches without
leaving them, wet to the skin oftener than not, and day and night
exposed to shrapnel, not able to raise their hand above without
getting a bullet through them, and yet not a grumble is heard. As
I sit scrawling this in pencil, with my back against the damp earth,
the jest goes round, and peals of laughter follow the sallies of your
light-hearted countrymen from the Emerald Isle. I positively love
these men, and shall never forget, in spite of the ague attacks and
the racked head, the enjoyment of these hours spent packed, all
arms and legs, in the mass of humanity which fills these trenches—the
work of our own hands.”

They had tasted neither bread nor biscuits for a week. Fortunately
they had meat in plenty, and occasionally certain meal-cakes
which, though filling, brought about a sensation graphically described
as “hippopotamus on the chest.” Some one declared they were
quite as hard and nearly as damaging as Boer bullets!

In spite, however, of their assumed jocosity they could not
but be cognisant of the fact that, what with damp and dysentery,
irregular meals, tainted water, poor medical appliances, and
indifferent stores, the future was threatening. Questions as to the
coming of the promised relief began to be anxiously bandied about,
and now and again a terrible doubt crept in that it might never
come at all.

Easter Monday they thought of as Bank Holiday in England.
They pictured the gay Cockney multitude scampering free in parks
and sunshine while they, huddled together in a deluge of perpetual
rain, were wondering if life in trenches was worth living. Then
some one, a philosopher, declared you couldn’t get a daily rain-water
bath at home for love or money, and they laughingly made the best
of it. They wallowed in damp and mud, and counted on their
fingers that there had been eight days of hard fighting, and
wondered how many more they were good for. Books were scarce
and conversation monotonous. “Any signs of Brabant or Gatacre?”
some one would question. “None. I guess they’ve got lost some[Pg 64]where.”
“Any chance of the rain stopping?” “None. We shall
have deluges to-morrow.” So passed the time between Job and his
comforters.

Fighting proceeded wearily, spasmodically. The Boers too
were damp, in spirit and in body, and the carols of Long Tom lost
some of their demoniac mirth. Now and then the besiegers would
smarten themselves up with a volley, occasionally they would snipe
intermittently—a little venomous spitting at the obdurate, sturdy,
magnificent fellows they had learned as much to respect as to detest.
Still no relief column. Hoping, the men in their trenches puzzled
and offered solutions for themselves.

“Perhaps the relievers had fallen into a trap,” said a pessimist.

“Oh no; the rain must have delayed them,” said some one
more cheery.

“Perhaps the drifts are unpassable,” volunteered a third.

“I wonder if any of us will be left to receive them?” questioned
the pessimist.

“Poof! only ten per cent. of us are disabled as yet!” chaffed
the optimist lightly.

Though they did not know it, General Chermside, with the
Third Division, had now marched about eight miles east of Reddersburg,
and encamped in the locality where the Royal Irish Rifles
surrendered. On the 19th a large body of the enemy was moving
on with the apparent object of encountering General Brabant near
Rouxville, and later on from the distance the muffled roar of
musketry gave promise of the relieving action. Naturally, the
spirits of the garrison began to rise, but their joy was short
lived, for soon the Boers appeared on the west, and there
brought five guns to bear on the British force. All day the
round lips of the new visitors opened and hooted and spat! The
Kaffrarian Rifles were treated to no less than 130 shrapnel shells.
Brabant’s regiment and the Maxim kept up an active fire on the
Boer gunners; but the guns were so cautiously protected that their
efforts were crowned with small success. Even the redoubtable
Captain Lukin failed to make his usual impression, for this officer
had now decided that economy—economy of ammunition—must make
the better part of Wepener valour. Major Maxwell, at dusk, with
his cheery sappers, set to work to remedy the ravages of the day, but
the prospect of affairs was not rendered more heartening by information
which came in to the effect that Olivier, De Wet, Froneman,
and others were closing in with their commandoes and mercenaries,
numbering some 8000, from Rouxville, Smithfield, Ficksburg, and
even from Ladybrand. This discovery caused no little anxiety.
All were aware that Lord Roberts could and would come to their
relief; but, nevertheless, it was impossible to ignore the fact that[Pg 65]
provisions began to dwindle and the poor trek oxen began to go,
and no signs of a relieving column were evident. The officers and
men were now on duty all night in the trenches—melancholy work,
for deluges of rain made them sopping, and served to damp even
the bellicose ardour of the most valorous.

LIEUT.-GENERAL SIR H. M. LESLIE-RUNDLE, K.C.B.


Photo by Russell & Sons, London

Their position by day, too, was pathetic in the extreme. It
was impossible even for the most rollicking and dauntless to
look unmoved to right or to left of him. Perhaps on one side he
would be bounded by a “pal” doubled up and sweating with the
agony of his wounds, while on the other would lie, clay-cold and
immobile—with that unmistakable stiffness that they had learnt to
know too well—a form that some moments before had been vibrant
with humanity. In this entourage it was necessary throughout the
long hours to keep up persistent fire at the enemy, and dodge and
manœuvre so that the fate that loomed large and unforgetable on
either hand might be kept at bay! Few indeed were in possession
of a whole skin in these times—they fought, got wounded, went
into hospital, came out partially healed and fought again, only to go
back with fresh holes for repair. Sometimes they were carried to
the churchyard by comrades of their corps—gaunt, weary, aching,
grimy fellows with large hearts, who grimly professed to envy those—many
there were by now—who had “every night in bed!”

On the evening of the 23rd there was some jubilation in
Jammersberg camp. General Brabant heliographed from a place
some fourteen miles distant, reporting an engagement with the
enemy, and that they were retiring, though there was a strong force
on his left flank. Heavy firing continued to be heard all day, most
probably from the artillery of Generals Rundle and Chermside, who,
at this time, were approaching Dewetsdorp from the south, or of
Generals French and Pole-Carew, who were nearing that destination
from the north. The plot was thickening. The sun was
shining, the guns were going, and there was a chance the Boers
might yet be hoist with their own petard, and in expectation thereof
a veritable thrill passed through the camp.

Then the Boer fire began to slacken perceptibly, the barking of
big guns mysteriously subsided. What was happening? Anxiety
and suspense made the young faces—faces that had been young at
the commencement of the war—still more drawn and haggard; it
was felt that should the Boers capture the position they would give
little quarter to the Colonial Division, and these had determined
never to hoist the white flag. The fact was, the Boers were silently
preparing to sneak away. They had heard of the converging of the
British armies, they were in receipt of information regarding a grand
scheme for mopping them up, and after taking a last sullen, despairing
lunge they took themselves off.[Pg 66]

On the morning of the 25th a serpentine cortège of waggons and
carts and riders was seen winding its way in the direction of Ladybrand.
Colonel Dalgety half suspected that Brabant’s force would
presently appear and chase this retreating company, and got himself
and some 300 of his men in readiness to assist in harassing those
who so recently had harassed him. But Brabant’s force was apparently
worn out, and was about some fourteen miles off when the
retirement commenced, and though to his splendid exertions the
retreat was due, it was evident that the enemy would manage to slide
off without chastisement.

Wepener.

Thus ended the story of a grand achievement, an almost unique
example in the way of defence of fortified positions, 1700 men having
for seventeen days and nights in the trenches defended seven miles
of entrenchment without giving up a single position! By the end
there had been about 200 casualties, and only 1500 men were left to
defend the tremendous length of entrenchments. One of the valiant
defenders gave a graphic summary of the continuous fighting:—

“We lost between twenty and thirty killed and wounded the first day—not
very many, considering what we had against us. At night the big guns ceased
fire, and there was only a shot now and again during the night. On Tuesday
morning at breakfast time the big guns started again; but there were only[Pg 67]
five guns that day, and we found out after the fight that we had knocked out
three of the Boer guns on the previous day. The firing on the Tuesday was
not so brisk, but at 8 P.M. the Boers attacked in force at the C.M.R. trenches,
but our men were ready for them, and played one of the Boers’ own games
with them. They saw them coming, and the Royal Scots lined up on one side
and the C.M.R. on the other side of the spruit. Our men allowed them to get
right in and then opened fire at fifty yards. Every man had his bayonet fixed
and ready, and at the word they went for them. In less than an hour it was
all over, and the Boers were beaten back, leaving 300 dead. It was pitiful to
hear them crying. They have not the heart of a school-girl, and they cannot
stand a beating. After the Tuesday night the enemy kept very quiet for a few
days, only independent firing going on both with rifles and big guns. This
went on for several days, at times a little brisk, and then the Boers seemed to
get tired and tried to rush us again with 2000 men. This was on the fifteenth
day at ten in the morning. By twelve o’clock we had them beaten, and the
next day they left us and we came on up here.”

A great deal of the success of the resistance was due to the
ingenuity of the entrenchments. The work had been carried out
under the direction of Colonel Maxwell, R.E., and the splendid stand
made by the besieged was made possible almost entirely by his
genius. Captain Lukin was also a tower of strength, and but for
his services with the guns the garrison would have suffered much
more than it did. Captain Grant, C.M.R., too, was invaluable,
working late and early, and carrying out with immense zeal the
plans of the chief, while Colonel Grenfell was an untiring right-hand
man to Colonel Dalgety.

Another of the heroes of the siege was Major Sprenger, of the
C.M.R., who fell in his country’s service almost at the beginning
of the siege. He was a born soldier, and a distinguished member
of a distinguished corps. He won his commission by his smartness
and soldierly qualities, having risen to the rank of sub-inspector in
the old F.A.M.P. On the merging of that corps into the C.M.R.,
he continued as lieutenant, and was awarded the next step for gallantry
in the field, he being the first to mount the scaling ladders
in the storming of Moirosi’s Mountain.

General Brabant afterwards described the Cape Mounted Rifles
as being the very finest corps in her Majesty’s service, and recommended
them to the notice of Lord Roberts. As for the artillery
under Captain Lukin, the General said he did not think there was
a battery in her Majesty’s service that could excel it.

The casualties at Wepener from April 9th to 18th were:—

Killed:—Cape Mounted Rifles—Major Sprenger, Lieutenant E. A. Taplin.
Brabant’s Horse—Lieutenant Tharston. Severely wounded:—Cape Mounted
Rifles—Major J. C. Warring, Lieutenant J. Heilford, Lieutenant L. Martin,
Lieutenant R. Ayre, Lieutenant W. H. Nixon, Lieutenant H. G. F. Campbell.
Brabant’s Horse—Lieutenant W. J. Holford. Driscoll’s Scouts—Lieutenant
W. Weiner. Kaffrarian Rifles—Lieutenant C. Lister. Slightly wounded:[Pg 68]—Cape
Mounted Rifles—Captain C. L. M. Goldsworthy. Brabant’s Horse—Surgeon-Captain
L. C. Perkins (returned to duty), Lieutenant Turner Duncan,
Lieutenant and Quartermaster P. Williams. 1st Royal Scots Mounted Infantry—Lieutenant
C. G. Hill (1st Berks Regiment, attached).

The total losses were 33 killed and 132 wounded—a somewhat
heavy bill for so small a force, when it is remembered that many
of the wounded did not report their injuries but remained on duty
during the siege.

In his diary the officer before quoted wrote: “We were
relieved to-day at last, and march to-morrow. We have gone
through an awful time, and some of the men look quite ghastly.
They dragged their wasted forms from the trenches to-day at a
crawl to the camp, which had been repitched. I had to give up the
night before last, and after visiting my sentries, got back into the
trenches in agony. At midnight I reached the hospital, where they
injected morphine, and, after twenty-four hours lying on a stretcher,
I am on my legs again…. Seventeen days and nights under fire,
and the disgusting part of the whole is that it has been in vain.
The Boers have slipped through our fingers after all.”

The relief of Wepener may be said to have taken place on the
25th. To discover how this was automatically accomplished, it is
necessary to follow Lord Roberts’s strategic plan, and to return to
the events of the 22nd of April.

SCOUT—6th DRAGOON GUARDS


(Carabineers)

Photo by Gregory & Co., London

OPERATIONS FOR RELIEF

As a continual reorganisation of the forces was taking place, it
will assist us, before going further, to examine a rough table of the
date, as compiled from various authorities by the Morning Post:—

DISTRIBUTION OF FORCES

Commanding-in-chief—FIELD-MARSHAL LORD ROBERTS.

Towards the end of April the authorities found that the situation
was growing in interest as in difficulty. In the south-east of the
Free State Colonel Dalgety and his small but truculent band had
become the pivot round which British and Free Staters were
manœuvring, and the red drama of war on the north and west of
Wepener was becoming tragic as that of the region around Mafeking.
Developments on a large and complicated scale were taking place,
developments not as might be imagined in the direction of Pretoria,
but for the purpose of catching the enemy in the northern and
eastern portion of the Free State, and dealing with as much of
him as possible before proceeding to larger things. There were
now several separate columns on the march, each and all so arranged
that, at a given moment and at a given place within a very short
time they could concentrate for purposes of battle when battle
should be imminent, and with a view to mopping up such Boer
commandos as might chance to step in between the fangs of the
British lion. (We are already aware that the Boer commandos in
this region were far too knowing, and the anxious fangs eventually
snapped on nothing at all! Still a vast mass of the foe was held
in the south-east of the Free State while plans for the great
advance northwards were being elaborated.)

Lord Roberts began the second act of his campaign by deploying
the army from Karee Siding as far as Wepener, a distance of
some seventy miles. Indeed, on Sunday the 22nd of April, we find
that one portion of the army was at Bushman’s Kop, south of[Pg 71]
Wepener, another was near Dewetsdorp, half-way between the latter
place and Bloemfontein, another was moving to Tweede Geluk,
some twenty miles from Bloemfontein and twenty-two from Dewetsdorp,
and already in communication with General Rundle, who was
making for Dewetsdorp, while troops were also at or near Sanna’s
Post and fifteen miles west—at Kranz Kraal, a valuable passage
of the Modder between Sanna’s Post and the railways which for
some weeks had been much used by the Boers. All these troops
were sprayed out at distances varying from twenty to thirty miles
from each other, and were capable of getting into heliographic communication.
As this somewhat complicated machinery requires to
be examined and not dismissed with a word, it is better, if possible,
to follow the commanding officers as they each moved on his
special duty.

Generals Rundle and Chermside had concentrated their divisions
at Reddersburg with a view to assisting in what was called
“the big partridge drive.” The force of the united commanders
moving from Reddersburg towards Dewetsdorp was now about
15,000 strong. It was composed of the 4th and 7th Imperial
Yeomanry, the Mounted Infantry companies of the 1st Berkshire
and 2nd Northumberland Fusiliers, sixty of Montmorency’s Scouts
(Captain McNeil), General Campbell’s Brigade, General Boyes’s
Brigade, and General Allen’s Brigade. The united artillery was
commanded by Colonel Jeffreys, R.A. It comprised the 38th, 69th,
74th, 77th, and 79th Field Batteries. The Boers, disposed by De
Wet, occupied a position astride the country from Leeuw Kop to
Wepener, those in the former place covering those in the latter,
and vice versâ.

About the 20th the troops, under Sir Leslie Rundle, were
approaching Dewetsdorp, keeping the Boers in a perpetual state of
anxiety and disturbance by worrying tactics which the Dutchmen
were at a loss to understand. “The idea is to keep ’em on the
dance where they are,” said a Tommy who affected an interest in
strategy, “keep ’em lively, so that when they want to run they’ve no
legs to do it with.” At the same time the Boers took their share
in contributing to the life of the proceedings, and were also the
means of bringing to light more deeds of British heroism. Early in
the morning of the 20th a strong force of Yeomanry, with Mounted
Infantry and two guns, had started out over the green pastures of
the Free State to reconnoitre the enemy’s left and discover his
strength. (The left was the most vulnerable point of the foe, as,
that turned, he would be cut off from Wepener and forced north
into the arms of the advancing troops.) They soon came upon the
main Boer position, and were assailed with a sharp fire from the
Dutchmen. A smart encounter, or rather a series of encounters[Pg 72]
took place, during which the Yeomanry displayed remarkable
steadiness under fire, and executed their share of the movements
with the promptness and dexterity of seasoned—Mr. Kipling calls
it “salted”—troops.

McNeil’s Scouts (late poor De Montmorency’s), always the first to
be “in it,” observed a party of Boers racing for a desirable kopje, and
obtained permission to try and cut them off. With the party was
Mr. Winston Churchill, who, thinking that fun was in the air, put
spurs to his horse and was off with the intrepid band of scouts. For
some time there was an animated race, the Boers being nearer to
the strong eminence than the British, though less well mounted.
When it came to climbing, it seemed as though they might get the
worst of it. Rush—rush—rush went the fifty scouts; scamper—scamper—scamper
went the foe. It was almost a neck-and-neck
affair, when suddenly there came wire, and before this could be cut
there were Boers in possession of the great kopje, Boers blazing
downwards as fast as muskets would allow. Thereupon Captain
McNeil shouted his orders: “Too late! back to the other kopje.
Gallop!” and all obeying, the good steeds were off as hard as legs
could carry them. And now happened the episode which singles
out the reconnaissance from numerous military undertakings of the
same kind, for it brought into notice another of the heroes of the
war, whose courageous act will not easily be forgotten. As before
said, Mr. Winston Churchill, the correspondent of the Morning
Post, who, it may be remembered, escaped from the Pretoria prison,
was accompanying McNeil’s Scouts in their exciting expedition.
No sooner was the order given to “gallop,” than Mr. Churchill
made a bound for his saddle. It twisted, the horse, alarmed by
the fire, bolted, and the young man found himself on foot and
alone, with the Boers a second time within an ace of him. A horrible
vision, grown lifelike in a moment, as the vision of his past before
a drowning man, now flashed before him; the walls of the dreaded
Model School seemed to close in—nearer—nearer. But the Boers,
he decided, should not get him again without a struggle. This time
he had his pistol, he could not again be hunted down unarmed in
the open. He shouted—a despairing roar—to the scouts, who were
fleeing all unconscious of the accident that had befallen him. Then
one, turning aside, heard, stopped in his rush for life, wheeled about,
grasped the dismounted man, and an instant later, with Churchill at
the back of his saddle, was off again. Then the rifles above, at
a range of only forty yards, rippled out a deadly tune, as the flying
hoofs of the horse, wounded, and leaving behind him a track of
blood, flung up the turf and sod. Yet, from the showers of lead and
dust they came out alive, and Mr. Churchill lived to tell the tale of
his miraculous rescue. Curiously enough, the gallant scout whose[Pg 73]
action saved the journalist’s life, owned the talismanic name which
moved the army as the magnet moves a needle. Trooper Roberts
was recommended to the notice of Lord Roberts by General Rundle,
for, as Mr. Churchill said, all the officers were agreed that the
man who pulled up in such a situation to help another, was worthy
of some honourable distinction.

MAJOR-GENERAL POLE-CAREW


Photo by Gregory & Co., London

The fighting elsewhere continued with considerable heat, and the
long day was vibrant with the brawl of big guns and the cacophonous
whirr of shells. Without artillery to help in pounding the
enemy, General Brabazon decided it was useless to continue the
reconnaissance; he therefore withdrew with what some one described
as “an instructive little rear-guard action.” He had done an immense
amount of work, reconnoitred, located laagers, forced the
enemy to move his guns, and generally discomfited him at the cost
of less than a score of men. Now he rested on his oars, for instructions
from head-quarters arrived advising General Rundle to wait
till reinforcements should arrive before further pressing his attack.

Accordingly, on Sunday the 22nd of April, General French
was despatched from Bloemfontein to assist. The force consisted
of the 3rd and 4th Cavalry Brigades, the Eleventh Division
(General Pole-Carew’s), and some naval guns. The plan
was to move to Dewetsdorp, and en route to turn out the enemy
from his position at Leeuw Kop. General Dickson, with the 4th
Brigade of Cavalry and a battery of Horse Artillery, was to move
towards the south-east from Springfield, so as to head off the enemy
in the event of his retreating to the east. General Stephenson,
with the 18th Brigade, 83rd, 84th, and 85th Batteries, R.F.A., and
two 4.7 naval guns, was to march south and effect a junction with
General Pole-Carew and the Guards’ Brigade, and Colonel Alderson’s
Mounted Infantry Brigade. At Leeuw Kop, the Guards were
to get round the enemy’s left flank, while a central attack was to be
delivered by the 18th Brigade under General Stephenson. The
Guards (who had hitherto been protecting the line), were met some
five miles out, they having marched from Ferriera Siding. They
proceeded to the position mentioned, some fifteen miles south-east
of Bloemfontein, where the Boers were encountered. They were
found to be ensconced in the high eminence of Leeuw Kop itself,
and other kopjes thickly covered with bush in the north. Thereupon
operations began, the artillery opening the programme some
five miles off, followed by an attack late in the day on the part of
the 18th Brigade and the Guards, to front and left of the enemy’s
position. On the north side of the position was a picturesque
farm, towards which the 18th Brigade advanced. Five scouts were
allowed to approach within a hundred yards before the enemy fired.
Then our guns (84th Battery Field Artillery) having discovered the[Pg 74]
position, began to play upon it—hidden though it was by high trees
and shrubberies—with such accuracy and vigour that the enemy
retreated to some distant kopjes, whence they plied their Vickers-Maxims
and Mausers with a will. Shells buzzed and bounded
among them, but our men never flinched. They pursued their way
more and more to the left, in order to surround the offending kopjes.
The Warwicks in the centre, the Essex on the right, the Welsh on
the left, moving in echelon, advanced. By-and-by General Dickson’s
cavalry, from its distant position, attempted to engage in the
flanking movement, and to surround the hills if possible with mounted
men during the development of the infantry attack. The operations
were suddenly overtaken by an appalling darkness, which turned
out to be a flight of locusts that came and went, leaving the land
more bare than it was before. The infantry now were pouring
volleys on the kopje, whence they were again attacked with such
warmth that they had to “lie low.” Their position at this time
was an unenviable one, it being too exposed for advance, and too
advanced for retirement. At last the Essex made a glorious dash
on the western slopes, while the Warwick and Welsh regiments,
wildly cheering, clambered ahead of them on the northern heights.
The Boers fired half-heartedly for a time, but were subsequently
seen careering down the eastern slopes, their sole care being to save
themselves. Unfortunately in this gallant assault, Captain Prothero,
Welsh Regiment, was mortally wounded.

The Guards, meanwhile, had extended on the right, while the
Mounted Infantry, consisting of one battalion Imperial Mounted
Infantry, 1st and 2nd Canadian Mounted Rifles, and Strathcona’s
Horse (on their right) came in for so devastating a welcome from
the Creusot gun which the enemy had posted on a neighbouring
hill, that they were forced to retire. But the artillery came to the
rescue, and the Boers removed their gun. The Dutchmen now
found their numbers too meagre to hold their line of defence,
which covered a semicircular chain of kopjes on the east, and in
the morning of the 23rd all the enemy who held Leeuw Kop were
discovered to have trekked eastward. The position was ours.
Quantities of ammunition and rifles were seized, and General French
had commenced an animated chase to the south, though his cavalry
were unable to find the Boers in any strong position in the vicinity.
A noticeable feature of the day’s experiences was the exhibition of
the white flag on the farmhouse, whence the Boers fired on the
Canadians. These gallant fellows came safely out of the treacherous
downpour, but lost two horses.

On the same day (the 22nd), while the other tentacles of the
great octopus, the British army, were twisting as shown, General
Ian Hamilton with his Mounted Infantry Division was moving on[Pg 75]
towards Sanna’s Post to take possession of the waterworks there.
As the enemy in some strength was holding the neighbouring hills,
it was found necessary to despatch the Ninth Division, consisting of
Smith-Dorien’s and MacDonald’s Brigades, to the support of General
Ian Hamilton. With these movements we must deal anon. As
Sanna’s Post is situated some twenty miles from Tweede Geluk
(where the Eleventh Division was operating), and twenty-five from
the road to Dewetsdorp, near where we have left General Rundle,
the nicety of the disposition of the troops in their relation to each
other may be appreciated.

Moving almost at the same time, was Maxwell’s (late Chermside’s)
Brigade (Seventh Division), which marched eastward and
seized the hills covering the waggon-bridge over the Modder River
at Kranz Kraal—the bridge whose utility to the Boers has been
described.

Meanwhile General Brabant with his Mounted Division and
General Hart’s Brigade from Rouxville, had reached the vicinity of
Bushman’s Kop, some fourteen miles from Wepener. The bulk of
the Boer force had opposed themselves to this advance, and during
this time the strain on Colonel Dalgety at Wepener had naturally
been relaxed. By Monday, the 23rd, the Colonial Division, supported
by Hart’s Brigade, had turned the Boer position, after
having kept up a running fight all day. The casualties of the
fight were twenty-five wounded. Some of these were removed to
Basutoland, under arrangement with the resident Commissioner at
Mafeteng. General Brabant was moving in a north-easterly direction,
keeping Basutoland on his right flank, his operations being
watched with amazing interest by the natives in this region. He
was now some eight miles from Wepener and sixty from Bloemfontein,
and in heliographic communication with Dalgety, a circumstance
which caused the Boers round Wepener to grow uneasy
as to their positions.

To return to General Pole-Carew. On the morning of Monday,
the 23rd, the Boers, as we know, were found to have evacuated
their main position at Leeuw Kop, and the Mounted Infantry took
possession of the hill from which the enemy had been routed by
the infantry. General French by then had moved on independently
of his transport. Boers were known to be in the southern fringes
of the Leeuw Kop position, but, without engaging them, General
French pushed on, posting the 16th Lancers to keep an eye on his
flank, till they should be relieved by the mounted troops which were
following. Meanwhile, slowly in the rear, screened by the 4th
Mounted Infantry, General Pole-Carew advanced his division and
baggage train, and sent Roberts’s Horse to relieve the 16th Lancers
on the hill they were holding. The relievers came in for nasty[Pg 76]
attentions from a Maxim,
but in spite of this they
behaved with great gallantry,
made for the kopje on
which the Boers were ensconced,
and finally cleared
the summit. But this was
not accomplished without lamentable
loss. Major Brazier
Creagh, 9th Bengal Lancers,
who but recently had succeeded
to the command of
the regiment, was mortally
wounded. Presently, to the
assistance of Roberts’s Horse
came the 14th Hussars,
squadrons of which regiment
distributed themselves
in hope of cutting off the
enemy in retreat, but the
Dutchmen, with all smartness,
plied their guns till it was
deemed best to retire, leaving
the 2nd Coldstreams in
the original position gained.

The Operations at Dewetsdorp.
(A Sketch from the Right of the Boer Position, by Major A. Festing.)

The cavalry soon became
engaged. The Boers
were espied in a long, low
kopje to the east and west
of the Dewetsdorp Road, the
wide, flat ridge of which
General French meant to
seize. The 9th Lancers
advanced to secure it, but
the Boers instantly raced
for the most advantageous
position, with the result that
while the troopers planted
themselves on one edge of
the plateau the Boers did
likewise on the other. An
animated combat ensued,
the Lancers fighting most
pluckily. The Boers offered
determined resistance, whereon[Pg 77]
a “pom-pom” was ordered to the rescue of the Lancers, who were
losing heavily. This weapon disturbed the efforts of the Dutchmen
to sweep onwards, and soon they were put to flight, the “pom-poms”
of the British harrying them in their retreat. The cavalry
engagement was a pretty affair but costly, the dashing Lancers,
enfiladed with a cruel fire, losing one officer, Captain Denny,
K.D.G.’s, three wounded, and thirty-two men killed and wounded.
The wounded officers were Captain H. F. W. Stanley, 9th Lancers,
Lieutenant V. R. Brooke, 9th Lancers, and Lieutenant the Hon. A.
W. J. C. Skeffington, 17th Lancers.

(Corporal)

(Officer)

THE ROYAL MARINES


Photo by Gregory & Co., London

General Pole-Carew, whose object was to establish communications
with General Rundle, and for that purpose was advancing
his division, with baggage train, as quickly as possible, now appeared
in the direction of the main kopje, where the Boers for some days
had been hiding. Here Roberts’s Horse came into action; they
located the position, which was shelled with great vigour, while at
the base was a containing line of the Warwickshire Regiment, which
enabled the General to pass with division and baggage, almost under
the nose of the enemy, in perfect safety. The Boers made a
struggle to arrest the passage of the column, but it was a feeble
one. They opened fire from the ridge where they had first ensconced
themselves, and past which General Pole-Carew had to
march, but the guns of the 85th Battery made their acquaintance
with such scant ceremony and so much warmth that there was a
stampede. After a few shots had burst into some groups of Boers
they all speedily got out of range, taking with them their baggage
and guns.

General Rundle, who as we know was waiting to march on
Dewetsdorp, now communicated by heliograph that there were some
7000 of the enemy in his vicinity, and also that the country in front
was crowded with low hills in which they might be hidden; but
General Pole-Carew proceeded boldly to advance, and in his
advance made some very necessary reprisals on such farmers, who,
preferring covert-guile to open war, had been found aiding the
enemy after receiving lenient treatment at our hands. He had
previously set fire to a farmhouse whence, with a white flag flying
over it, the Boers on Sunday had fired on our men. The farmers
were told they could no longer play their double games, acting as they
did at one moment the slim warrior, and the next the pastoral innocent.

Meanwhile General Rundle with some 2500 Boers in front of
him was waiting till he should get into touch with General Pole-Carew.
He was warned by heliograph of the approach of the 4th
Cavalry Brigade and of General French, and throughout the 23rd
there was little done save running the gantlet of shells which the
Boers persistently fired but without doing serious damage. The[Pg 78]
Yeomanry, who already had shown remarkable “grit,” received considerable
attention from the “Creusots” of the enemy, who were
apparently holding on to all their eastern positions regardless of the
fact that the gigantic prongs of the steel trap which was being
prepared for them were shortly about to close. All the forces were
now gradually getting in touch with each other, and the Dutchmen’s
days were numbered. So it was thought on the night of the 23rd.
The 24th broke quietly. No shot was fired. Rundle’s force swung
to the left, pivoted on Chermside, who remained in defence of the
position, while the mounted brigade protected the outer flank. In this
General French, now arrived from the north, also assisted, and proceeded
to turn the enemy’s left. The British movements were
conducted with due silence and secrecy, they being determined to
produce a surprise for the Boers. The surprise “came off,” as the
saying is, but it was on the wrong side. When the men creeping
up the stony kopje came to peer for the enemy in the trenches they
found—merely trenches. “Not a bloomin’ Boer anywhere,” cried a
disgusted Tommy, kicking the quiet boulders with a dilapidated
boot! The Dutchmen were galloping to Ladybrand. The magnificent
web that had been prepared for them was empty.

An officer in the Royal Scots gave some interesting details
regarding the part taken by the Third Division in this somewhat
complex movement:—

“At this time we heard rumours that one of our mounted companies, the
one commanded by Captain Molyneux-Seel, was, together with the Colonial
Division, besieged at Wepener. This proved to be correct. At 1.30 A.M.
on 12th April we got orders to march at 9 A.M., under General Chermside,
who had taken over the command of the Third Division from
General Gatacre, towards Dewetsdorp and Wepener, to the relief of the
column at Wepener. We reached Reddersburg that afternoon. The rain
came on late that evening, and literally flooded us out. Every officer and
man was up from midnight, running about trying to keep warm. We had
been without tents since 31st March, and are still without them (17th May).
On 14th April we moved forward again and reached Rosendal, the scene of
the recent disaster to the three companies of the Royal Irish Rifles and
Mounted Company of the Northumberland Fusiliers. Graves, shells, cartridges,
&c., here showed the tough work they had had. We remained at
Rosendal waiting for the Eighth Division to come up until 19th, and had a
very wet time of it. We marched again on 19th towards Dewetsdorp, about
ten miles, when we went into bivouac. On 20th we moved off at 6 A.M., and
after marching some six or seven miles we found the enemy in a position of
very great strength covering Dewetsdorp. Our mounted infantry and artillery
drove in the advanced posts, and we established ourselves on the Wakkerstroom
Hills, in front of the enemy’s position. It was then quite dark. We
cooked our dinners as best we could, and lay down and slept the sleep of the
just. I forgot to say that we found it very difficult to put out our outpost
pickets in the dark, and one unfortunate party, belonging to the Worcestershire
Regiment, actually walked into the enemy’s lines and were captured.”

[Pg 79]

The circumstances of the capture were these. A party of some
twenty-five cooks and mates were carrying food to their comrades
on the top of a hill. In climbing, dinner in hand, they sought an
easy place of ascent, and while doing so, moved too far and found
themselves practically in the Boers’ arms. Another portion of this
unlucky regiment, a few days later, was drawn up for “foot and
arms” inspection, and while thus exposed made a target for the
enemy, who promptly seized the opportunity and killed two and
wounded four of the men. Continuing his story, the officer before
quoted said:—

“At 6.15 A.M. on the 21st we were standing under arms, with extra ammunition
issued, awaiting orders, when, “boom,” the first gun had been fired, and
the shell burst some 300 yards to our left. To cut a long story short, the
battalion remained in reserve that day with the rest of the brigade, and also
the next day, but early on the 23rd we were moved up to the first line. The
battalion was on the right of a battery of artillery, behind the crest of the hill
on a gentle slope. Except for the men in the trenches our position was unknown
to the enemy, but the mere fact of manning the trenches was sufficient
to draw fire, and in less than half-an-hour we had four of the men who were
with the main body of the battalion behind the brow hit. The bullets flew all
round us, and went “phut, phut” into the ground at our feet, and it is strange
that more did not find resting-places in our bodies. In half-an-hour we had
thrown up parapets in front of each company, behind which the men were safe,
and we suffered no more casualties. All that day and the next we remained
in this position. It was most interesting watching the shells as they burst
amongst our trenches, around the gunners, and over ourselves. The Boers
had nine guns, and, I believe, 5000 men. Amongst the guns was a quick-firer,
a 9-pounder Krupp gun, a high-velocity gun, and two pom-poms.
The last-named are unpleasant to the senses, but do little harm. The noise of
the discharge resembles in the distance the knocking at a door, and the men
constantly replied, ‘Come in,’ cheery and fearless fellows that they are! On
the early morning of the 25th (?) we missed our usual awakener of guns and
pom-poms, and eventually we found the Boers had evacuated their positions,
and, alas! had escaped us and Generals French and Hart. We at once pushed
forward on to Dewetsdorp.”

After all the marching and turning and fighting and manœuvring
the knowing hordes had been able to steal off from every part
of their horse-shoe position round Wepener entirely without
chastisement! Here were five infantry and three cavalry brigades
with more than seventy guns engaged in surrounding them,
and yet they had succeeded in slipping through our fingers!
Quite quietly, on the night of the 22nd, they had sent off
their waggons; on the 23rd they had taken a parting kick at
Wepener; and on the 24th they had retreated—“silently stolen
away” to Ladybrand—while part of their force before Dewetsdorp,
acting as a covering party, had retired on Thabanchu. That we
were foiled and fooled may in a measure have been due to some[Pg 80]
tactical bungling, but certain it was that the Boers had superior
advantages, for they were moving in a country entirely friendly to
them, were well informed of all our intentions and movements, and
were assisted in all their schemes by so-called farmers who, subtle
and shifty, had comfortably surrendered the better to engage in
covert operations which, while replenishing their pockets, did not
imperil their skins! Moreover they escaped scot free, because Lord
Roberts was not inclined to fritter more of his troops on side issues
while the great object of the campaign, the seizure of Pretoria and
the crippling of the Boers for prolonged military operations, was
occupying his entire attention. The capture of De Wet’s forces,
or a part of them, was of secondary importance in comparison to the
protection of railway communication with the sea base, and De
Wet’s minor successes, even when the disasters of Koorn Spruit
and Reddersburg were counted among them, were not sufficient
to frighten the Chief into a change of his larger strategical design.

Pursuit being useless, General French sent General Brabazon to
the relief of Wepener (which was already free), and he himself
occupied Dewetsdorp. On the 25th, however, he received orders
from Bloemfontein to chase the Boers to Thabanchu, which, at
dawn, he proceeded to do, followed later by General Rundle and the
Eighth Division. Meanwhile part of the Third Division under
Chermside kept the Union Jack floating in Dewetsdorp and watched
over the outlying districts. General Pole-Carew, his work in the south
done, started for Bloemfontein to prepare for the main advance.

Then followed a glorious march into Wepener. Generals Hart
and Brabant riding to Jammersberg Drift were cheered with enthusiasm,
and the former General congratulated the defenders on
their dogged pluck, and declared that the credit of the relief was
due to General Brabant, “with whom it was an honour to serve.”
General Brabant, on his side, was loud in praise of the gallant
Colonials, and of the assistance given him by the Cape Field
Artillery, declaring that the very first time they came into action
they saved him at a critical moment. His story merits repetition.
He was advancing to the relief of Wepener, and had to take Bester’s
Kop, a very difficult position indeed, and he had to turn the position
and leave his infantry supports a long way behind him and make a
wide sweep round. In doing so his force came suddenly upon a
body of the enemy within 190 yards of them. For a few minutes
the enemy made it very warm. The General called up two guns
under Lieutenant Janisch. He knew, he said, that Lieutenant
Janisch’s gunners had never been in action before, and in the circumstances
he was a little doubtful as to how they would behave.
But what did Lieutenant Janisch do? He at once set to work, and[Pg 81]
under a terrible fire, with shrapnel at 650 yards, and any man who
knew what that meant, or who had seen it done as he had, would
say that it was marvellously well done, with perfect coolness—with
the coolness of veterans. In ten minutes Lieutenant Janisch had
cleared the hillside. That, said the General, was a grand thing
for men to do, men who, many of them, had never seen a shot fired
in anger, and he had drawn the attention of the Commander-in-chief
to the fact. There were no braver men in the service than the
Royal Artillery, but the R.A. could not possibly have behaved
better than the Cape Field Artillery did, and his only regret was
that he could not get the other guns under Major Inglesby.

NORTHUMBERLAND FUSILIERS	DURHAM LIGHT INFANTRY
(Corporal)	(Lance-Corporal)

Photo by Gregory & Co., London

The Colonials afterwards proceeded to join General Rundle’s
force, as the enemy, to avoid being caught, was now “on the run.”
Flying north-eastward along the Ladybrand Road some three or
four thousand of them went as fast as legs, equine and human,
would carry them. They evacuated the kopjes near the waterworks,
they bolted from the neighbourhood of Dewetsdorp, they
rushed from Jammersberg Drift—in fact, as the jovial Colonials
said, “the enemy conjugated the verb to skedaddle” from all
positions in a masterly manner. They were getting good practice,
but they began to fear that there were others who might learn
to cut across country besides themselves.

On the 28th General Brabazon, having completed his work at
Wepener, moved via Dewetsdorp on the way towards Thabanchu.
As he was nearing this place he suddenly became aware that a
British convoy had been caught in between the hills and was being
briskly shelled by the Boers. Promptly he bribed a Kaffir to worm
through the Boer lines and convey to the sturdy Yeomanry who
were defending the convoy, the advice to hold on till he should
advance to their aid. The message was delivered, and the Yeomanry
stuck out manfully until, at dawn, the General and his Yeomanry came
upon the scene. Thereupon the Boers, with their usual astuteness,
made off, while rescuers and rescued alike pursued their way in
triumph to Thabanchu.

Soon Wepener was deserted. The British in that locality took
refuge in Mafeteng, while the troops which had evacuated the place
were sweeping up the Free State after the Federals. These
“slimly” enough were getting away with herds, and stores, and guns
without being caught in any very huge numbers. A large party of
Free Staters had taken up a truculent position to the north of
Thabanchu Mountain, for the purpose of protecting their fellows and
covering the withdrawal of their waggon convoys from the south, and
they succeeded in taking with them the twenty-five prisoners of the
Worcesters, who had unwarily dropped into their clutches at Dewets[Pg 82]dorp.
The Transvaalers, on the other hand, at the instance of President
Kruger, were trekking towards the north in order to save their
energies for coming operations across the Vaal, but they took good
care before leaving to make themselves as obnoxious as possible to
such farmers as had surrendered to the British Government.

THE TENTACLES AT WORK

We left General Ian Hamilton on April 22nd, starting from
Bloemfontein to take possession of the waterworks at Sanna’s Post.
His force was composed of about 2000 Light Horse, Australians and[Pg 83]
Mounted Infantry, and one battery of Horse Artillery; but following
him closely, as has been said, came the Ninth Division, consisting of
Smith-Dorrien’s and MacDonald’s Brigades. On reaching the waterworks
the General decided, after reconnoitring, that they were but
weakly held, and proceeded to attack the enemy, drive him into the
distant hills, and recapture the waterworks and the drift over the
river. The enemy had removed the eccentrics from the waterworks,
thinking to paralyse British operations for a month or two, but it
soon became evident that the mechanists in Bloemfontein were prepared
to manufacture new ones at short notice. The drift was occupied
on the 24th, and the enemy, for reasons above mentioned, made
his way to a formidable position behind Thabanchu, whither it was
decided he must be chased, and speedily.

On the same day 800 Boers were found at Israel’s Poort,
some seven miles from Thabanchu. Their demeanour was aggressive.
They were posted on a semicircle of small kopjes, carefully
entrenched and protected by two guns and barbed-wire entanglements.
General Ian Hamilton decided that the Dutchmen must be
removed, and removed they were, mainly by the gallantry of the
Canadians and the Shropshires, supported by the Grahamstown
Horse. With remarkable celerity the hills were cleared and the
Boers driven off. The Canadians, commanded by Colonel Otter,
approached by clever successive rushes to the foot of the kopjes
before the Boers opened fire. Then, in the midst of a sharp volley
from the enemy they came on the barbed-wire entanglements, but,
undaunted, cut or cleared them, and with a gallant rush ascended the
hill. With great ingenuity they took whatever cover they could,
while from above, the storm from the hostile Mausers—which during
the engagement had doubled in number—grew hotter and hotter.
Colonel Otter was struck in the neck, but pursued his way, cheering
on his gallant men. Presently another bullet found him out; tore
from his shoulder its badge, but did no further damage. Still up they
all went, with a glorious, an inspiriting yell, which apparently sent the
Federals scudding into space. The crest of the hill was now the
property of the Canadians and the Grahamstown Volunteers, who unfortunately
lost a valuable officer—Captain Gethin. The Canadian
losses were not so heavy as might have been expected, owing to
the skill with which their advance was arranged and carried out;
but the splendid turning movement was not without cost to others.
During the fight Major Marshall (Grahamstown Mounted Rifles)
was severely wounded, and also Lieutenants Murray, Winnery,
Barry, Hill, and Rawal. Colonel Otter (Canadian Regiment), as
has been said, was only slightly injured. The same night General
Hamilton occupied Thabanchu.

On the 25th General French, as we know, had received[Pg 84]
orders from head-quarters to pursue the enemy in his retreat
northwards to Thabanchu. Here the cavalry, covering Rundle’s
advance, arrived at midday on Friday the 27th to find General
Ian Hamilton engaged with a horde of Boers temporarily routed,
but holding a threatening position to the east of the place.
An effort was made to dislodge the Dutchmen entirely. Cavalry
and Mounted Infantry were sent to either flank, while the infantry
advanced in front. But the mounted force was small, and moreover
dreadfully fatigued (they having endured considerable hardships—half-rations
among them—in the hurried march to Thabanchu), while
the Boer position, as usual, was extensive, and therefore the cavalry
was recalled. The Boers followed up the retirement with great
skill, pressing so closely on the troops as to cause considerable
anxiety, particularly for the safety of Kitchener’s Horse, which did
not get clear away till midnight. It was evident that the foe was
bent on making valiant and despairing efforts to arrest the progress
of the troops towards the east. From this part of the Orange Free
State, in the neighbourhood of Ladybrand and Ficksburg, they drew
their corn and other supplies, and these they were determined not
to relinquish without a struggle.

During the day’s engagement Lieutenant Geary, Hampshire
Regiment, was killed, and Captain Warren, of Kitchener’s Horse,
was severely wounded.

Meanwhile General Rundle with the Eighth Division had arrived
from Dewetsdorp. The advance of Generals Rundle and Chermside
towards the north had had the effect of a vast sweeping machine.
The country south and east had gradually been scoured of the enemy,
with the result that he was gathered—and very cleverly gathered!—in
a heap in the hills around Thabanchu. Some of the Transvaalers,
however, were returning to their farms, while others were
scuttling across country, retiring “the better to jump,” as the
French would say.

General Pole-Carew’s march and prompt measures were also
producing excellent effects, and helping to correct the misunderstandings
created in the ignorant mind by British leniency. Till
now the Boers had not been taught that there was necessity for
honour even among foes, but now the General took drastic measures
to show burghers on whose farms he found rifles that British
“magnanimity” was not without its limits. Wherever these turncoats
were found their horses and cattle were captured, their meal
and provisions destroyed or carried off. In this way the delinquents
were punished, and the Federal Army was crippled in the matter
of supplies. Generals Pole-Carew and Stephenson, in conjunction
with General Rundle’s advance, and acting on information from
the Intelligence Department, had made a round of certain farms[Pg 85]
in the district of Leeuw Kop, and everywhere propagated their
wholesome lesson. The women and children, however, were treated
with great consideration. There were, of course, tragic moments
with these weaklings, whose notions of morality in the art of
war were nil. All that interested them was to preserve their
homesteads, and sell at as profitable rates as possible their goods
to the first British buyer who had money in his pocket. They saw
no sin in declaring they had no concealed ammunition when the
place was stocked with it, or in handing out a few disabled rifles
and burying the better ones for use “on a rainy day.” Only
when General Pole-Carew insisted that the Boers should give up
with their Mausers a reasonable amount of ammunition, on pain of
being seized as prisoners of war, were Mausers and ammunition
in plenty forthcoming. There was now no doubt that these prompt
measures helped to clear the military situation with astonishing
rapidity. A typical conversation which conveyed a world of instruction
took place during one of General Pole-Carew’s invasions.
A young Transvaal prisoner, who was standing among the confiscated
goods from many farms, was questioned how long he thought
the war would last. He cast a rueful glance at the commandeered
effects, and said, “Not long, if this continues!” General Pole-Carew
could have had no greater compliment to his acumen in dealing
with what for more than a month past had been a perplexing
problem!

So far, things were progressing favourably. At Bloemfontein
there had been some fear of a water famine, but the recent
rains had beneficently filled the dams, and good drinking-water
was obtained by boring. The repairs of the damage done by
the Boers to the waterworks went on apace, and at the same time
arrangements for the general advance northwards were approaching
completion. It was decided that the task of continuing the sweeping
operations in the south-eastern corner of the Free State should
be assigned to General Sir Leslie Rundle, and to this end he was
to be left at Thabanchu in command of the Eighth Division, plus
some 800 Imperial Yeomanry under General Brabazon, while Generals
French and Hamilton proceeded north.

Thabanchu, on account of its strategical importance, both in view
of its proximity to Bloemfontein and of checking further raids,
the British determined to hold, and hold firmly, for the future.
Accordingly at dawn on the 28th General French directed a great
movement for the purpose of entirely routing the Boers from
its neighbourhood. This was easier in conception than accomplishment.
General Gordon’s Cavalry Brigade moved round the
left, the Mounted Infantry with General Smith-Dorrien’s Infantry
Brigade assailed the right, while General Rundle’s somewhat worn-[Pg 86]out
division held the front of the enemy’s position. The Boer left
was so strong that General Gordon had to content himself with
merely hammering at it, but the Boer right crumbled away before
General Hamilton’s advance, and opened a road for General Dickson’s
Cavalry Brigade, which, once having dashed through, sent
the Boers scampering like goats from ridge to ridge. In a few
moments it seemed that, with the British in the rear of their hill,
the Dutchmen would be enclosed. Quickly came General Hamilton
with such troops as he could muster to effect this desired consummation;
but more quickly still, and with surprising regularity and
precision, the Boer hordes, moving with such discipline as to be
mistaken for a British mounted brigade, marched off to the north-east,
while others of their huge numbers returned in force, harassed
General Dickson’s left and rear, and forced him in his turn quickly
to retire. Thus ended a laudable effort.

Kent Cottage, Cronje’s Quarters in St. Helena.

The operations around Thabanchu and Ladybrand had therefore
to be briskly continued, for at this time General Rundle stood in
hourly danger of being invested, and General French with his flying
warriors in a region of hill and dale was somewhat handicapped in
his ability to help him. Still he kept a magnetic eye on the enemy
which served to hold him, while General Ian Hamilton, moving on
the left, prepared if possible to proceed forwards and join the main
advance.

[Pg 87]

CHAPTER IV

THE GREAT ADVANCE[4]

The evil effects of British leniency became still more evident.
A hostile society had been organised in Bloemfontein
for the purpose of communicating with the enemy and
arming surreptitiously at the neighbouring farms. Spies
carried news of the British movements, and messengers
came in and out under pretext of bringing their goods to market.
In short, it was discovered that the outlying farmers were developing
into secret-service agents, and were, moreover, lending themselves to
the atrocious practice of flying white flags for the purpose of firing
at short ranges at unwary patrols. It was found necessary to meet
such duplicity with stern reprisals, and following the example set by
Moltke in ’71, when it was incumbent on him to protect his communications
from franc-tireurs, it was decided that strongest measures
must be resorted to to prevent abuse of confidence in the future.
Lord Roberts had tried magnanimity and it had failed. He now determined
that a severe course must be adopted by which offenders
in future might be made to suffer for acts of duplicity in property and
in person. Accordingly, no one was permitted to pass in and out of
Bloemfontein, the enemy was deprived of their horses in order
that their activity in despatch riding might be limited, and the discovery
of hidden cartridges or suspicious documents were in future
to be looked upon as sufficient to convict. Various residents in the
town were tried on charges of concealing arms and ammunition, and
sentenced to a year’s imprisonment respectively, while their property
was confiscated. These examples were productive of almost instantaneous
good result, for unprecedented supplies were pouring into
Bloemfontein. General Pole-Carew, who returned to the capital on
the 29th of April, had done wonderful work in correcting the abuses
that early leniency had brought about. Wherever farmers who had
made their submission were discovered to be again fighting, their
property had been confiscated. Forage had been taken and receipts
given as a rule, thus preventing the surrounding farms from becoming
depôts for the enemy. Such precautions adopted earlier would
have averted many bloody tussles and much inconvenience and loss
of time, for sans forage the raiding capabilities of the various commandos
would have been sorely handicapped.

[Pg 88]

However, even chieftains may live and learn, and Lord Roberts
applied himself quickly to the lesson that was forced on him by the ingratitude
of the conquered. At the same time the last strokes were
being put to the preparations for the great onward march. The
regiments were exchanging their tattered and battered cotton khaki
for woollen suits, wherewith to meet the change of season, and their
soleless boots were being replaced by new ones. All this transmogrification
was not to be accomplished in haste, for the same
reason that made it impossible to bring up necessaries for the
hospital. The line of rail was groaning with the enormous bulk
of provisions needful to sustain the bare life of the force, and
consequently such matters as raiment and equipment had to take a
secondary place among the urgent needs of the moment. General
Pole-Carew’s Division, after a hard bout of fighting, no sooner
returned than it made ready to engage in the pending operations.

The day being Sunday (the 29th), the Field-Marshal, accompanied
by Lady Roberts and their daughter, attended divine service
at the Cathedral, a last family reunion previous to setting off on
the unknown—the great march to Pretoria. At that time none
could guess what form of resistance the burghers of Johannesburg
and Pretoria might take it into their heads to offer, and fearful
threats to stagger humanity by blowing up the mines and committing
various other acts of barbarism were bruited abroad.

Fever still raged in the town, and as many as 3000 patients
were said to be in hospital. The outburst of sickness, due in
the first instance to the polluted conditions surrounding Cronje’s
camp at Paardeberg, was accelerated by the lack of water after
the affair at Koorn Spruit, when the triumphant Boers captured and
disabled the waterworks and deprived the town of pure water,
leaving the population dependent for drinking-water on wells which,
in many cases, were merely sinks of abomination.

Nevertheless, the red business of war had to be pursued at
all costs, and May Day was kept in martial manner. With dawn
came the music of bands innumerable and inspiriting, and the
mighty clangour of armed men, of clamping steeds, of rolling
waggons. Pole-Carew and his division were starting for Karee
Siding, en route for the great, it was hoped, the final move! In the
market-square, to watch the march past of the brigade of goodly
Guardsman, of stalwart Welsh, Warwick, Essex, and York regiments,
stood Lord Roberts, Lady Roberts, and their daughter. It
was a grand though workmanly spectacle, the bearded veterans in
their woollen khaki being laden with blankets, macintoshes, haversacks,
and in some cases, countrymen’s bandanna bundles stocked
with good things. Though this may be looked on as the beginning
of the general exodus, the Chief himself did not move till later.

MAJOR-GENERAL IAN HAMILTON


Photo by Johnston & Hoffmann, Simla

[Pg 89]

Before starting off Lord Roberts made elaborate arrangements
for simultaneous movement in other parts of the theatre of war.
Wepener relieved, Hart’s Brigade was sent to join Barton’s at
Kimberley. At that place there was therefore the complete
Tenth Division under General Hunter, and Lord Methuen’s redistributed
division comprising the brigades under Generals
Douglas and Paget. Elsewhere, wheel was arranged to move
within wheel.

Lord Roberts’s programme seemed simple enough—on paper.
He, with a portion of his army, the Seventh and Eleventh Divisions,
intended to advance with speed and on the broadest front possible,
hugging the railway line (astride which the Boer positions were
sure to be found), till he should have reached the capital of the
Transvaal and struck a blow which should destroy the arrogant
hopes of President Kruger and demonstrate to the Boers the
futility of further resistance. At the same time, on the east of the
line, a strong detachment was to keep an eye on the hovering hordes
of Dutchmen which still lingered there, while further still, Sir
Redvers Buller was to advance along the railway from Ladysmith,
and if possible to join hands with the main army later on during the
operations. Simultaneously, on the west, the relief of Mafeking
was to be attempted by a flying column, while both Hunter’s and
Methuen’s divisions in support acted in concert, and further held
themselves in readiness to advance and join in the general operations
should occasion demand.

The main army, consisting of the Seventh and Eleventh Divisions,
was to march, as said, on the broadest possible front; the left
wing—the cavalry under General French—to proceed in advance
over the open country; while the right wing, also in advance, commanded
by General Ian Hamilton, was to perform a sweeping movement
throughout the Boer-haunted regions along the Winburg,
Ventersburg, and Kroonstadt roads, and threaten in turn the defensive
positions of the foe, forcing them everywhere to choose
between investment or retreat.

The troops acting in concert with Lord Roberts in his second
great advance were distributed as follows:—

Commanding-in-chief—FIELD-MARSHAL LORD ROBERTS.

The advance may be said really to have commenced on the
30th of April, with the departure on the one hand of General
Ian Hamilton from Thabanchu, followed rapidly on the other
by General French. The Field-Marshal, as stated, did not move
for a day or two later. When he did so, events succeeded each
other with the precision of clockwork. The hundred and twenty
miles from Bloemfontein to Kroonstadt was accomplished in a
fortnight, and may be described as an almost bloodless progress.
Many glorious deeds were done, and some lives were lost; but this
march must be looked on as a whole, and not viewed in detail.
There were at least no decisive battles. Every step, marvellously
organised and magnificently carried out, became a development of
the pushing-on system by a species of skilfully devised military
pressure from all parts. The enemy was driven from point to point,
now fighting, now retreating, destroying water-tanks and pumping
adjuncts, blowing up bridges and twisting rails, as a natural
consequence of his spite; while the British, sprayed out over the
country, made an almost triumphal progress, routing the enemy from
every stronghold, and capturing waggons and prisoners by the way.

Brandfort, whither the Boers had departed after the battle of
Karree, was occupied by Lord Roberts on the 3rd of May, the
Boers, under General Delarey, vacating their strongholds south of
the town and retreating towards the north-east. Brandfort is merely
a village situated some thirty-six miles north of Bloemfontein, and[Pg 92]
owes its importance to the fact that it is situated on the direct road
to Kroonstadt.

A reconnaissance was made there some four days previous to the
advance, when a grievous though heroical incident took place, which
cannot be overlooked, as it serves to show the stuff of which the men
of Lumsden’s Horse were made. Some twenty-five of the Behar Section,
who were holding a detached kopje during the reconnaissance,
were surrounded and fired on in their isolated position by some 200
Boers. The officer commanding (Lieutenant Crane) was almost
instantly wounded, so also was Sergeant-Major Marsham. Two
gallant troopers, Case and Firth, though well aware that they were
outnumbered and that surrender in the circumstances would be
justifiable, refused to desert their officer, though ordered by him to
do so, and continued valiantly to fire till they themselves dropped
dead, a sacrifice to their own gallantry. Nor were the rest of the
band less remarkable for “grit,” for out of the small number holding
the kopje nine were wounded and five killed! It was hoped on the
arrival of the army at Brandfort that the wounded prisoners might
be recovered, but it was afterwards found that the Boers had
removed them.

To return to the main advance. The town was occupied without
serious opposition, as the Dutch hosts, some 4000 of them, who had
declared their intention of fighting to the bitter end, simply melted
away under pressure of the cleverly combined movement. The
force had been preceded overnight by two battalions of Guards, who
were deputed to hold a menacing kopje, which mounted guard over
a spruit, known to be a favourable harbourage for the enemy. As a
natural consequence of this skilful preparation, the Boers were forced
to resign their comfortable hiding-place, and the army was enabled
to advance in safety. The 1st Brigade of Mounted Infantry (Hutton)
covered the left flank, and 14th Brigade of the Seventh Division
(Maxwell) supported by the 15th Brigade (Wavell) covered the right
flank. General Pole-Carew’s Division marched in the centre, General
Inigo Jones on the right, and General Stephenson on the left.

General Maxwell encountered the enemy, who, posted in a good
position, attacked him with two guns, which eventually were silenced
by the British artillery. He then succeeded in sending the whole of
the eastern force scudding towards the north, while General Hutton
on his side, making an unusual detour, and assisted by No. 9 Field
Battery and Colonel Alderson with his smart Colonials, prepared a
little surprise, and contrived so to pound and harass the enemy on
the hill commanding the town, that their valour, chastened by discretion
and shrapnel, subsided, and they scurried away across the
plains, thus leaving the coast clear. Several prisoners were captured,
among them the commandant of the town, who had returned[Pg 93]
there for the purpose of destroying the instruments at the telegraph
office. Among the defending force was the Irish-American Contingent,
a riotous crew, who, according to the townsfolk, must have
been to the Boers more bother than they were worth. During the
engagement Captain Williams (2nd Hampshire Regiment) was
wounded.

On the 4th, the Mounted Infantry, under General Hutton, covering
a front of ten miles, proceeded on their way, reconnoitred up to
the Vet River, and meanwhile cleared the rail of such Boer stragglers
as happened to be hanging about, as far as Eensgevonden, where
they bivouacked. They were followed the next day by the rest of
the force, all branches of which had been in communication by
heliograph.

At dawn on the 5th, the river was found by the West Australians
to be held by the enemy. The guns advanced, and a fierce artillery
duel followed, in which the 84th and 85th Batteries had some
exciting experiences, and escaped as by a miracle without injury.
Later on, two naval 12-pounders assisted them, and there was warm
work till sunset, the Boers on the opposite bank fighting with rare
obstinacy, and only desisting occasionally the better to leap to the
attack. Meanwhile on the left, the sound of General Hutton’s
further operations could be heard. Having endeavoured to find a
drift to the west, this officer encountered the enemy in possession,
and was greeted by a duet from a hostile Maxim and a pom-pom.
This presently developed into a quartet, the British galloping Maxim
and a pom-pom taking so prominent a part that presently the Boers,
concealed in the bed of the river, began to feel uncomfortable.
News had come in to the Chief at mid-day that the enemy meant to
hold the Vet River, and was there located with the necessary equipment
of field-guns and Mausers, and that he was already in touch
with Hutton’s Brigade on the left. The army, taking advantage of
such daylight as remained, moved on, and presently, across the river,
and on the distant hills, blue-grey smoke in panting puffs bespoke
the activities of the Colonials. To their assistance went naval guns,
great and small, carrying messages of fuming green horror to the
other side of the water. While this was taking place the Canadians
and Tasmanians were grandly fighting their way across the river,
and the gallant New Zealanders, taking their share, plunged into
the midst of the Boers and scattered them from a kopje they were
holding, themselves paying dearly the penalty of triumph. They
were afterwards supported by two companies of the Guards. The
Dutchmen eventually were routed from their positions south of the
river, and General Hutton succeeded in turning the enemy’s right,
and establishing himself the next day on the north bank. The only
officer wounded in General Pole-Carew’s Division was Lieutenant[Pg 94]
the Hon. M. Parker, Grenadier Guards. General Hutton’s operations
had been entirely successful, some forty Boers had been put
out of action, twelve prisoners and a Maxim were captured with
comparatively small loss to the entire force. The Boer horde, which
had left its position by the river, now congregated some ten miles
off, with a view to the protection of the main body of the foe, who
were falling back on Kroonstadt.

The turning movement was declared to be an admirable feat,
executed admirably by the Canadians, New South Wales, New Zealand
Rifles, and the Queensland Mounted Infantry, whose dash and
daring were much eulogised. The first phase of the general advance
was promising well. Lord Roberts, according to his plan, had cleared
and engaged the south-eastern districts with such celerity that the
enemy had not been given breathing time to concentrate in front of
the advancing force. On the 6th the British Army crossed the Vet
River and encamped at Smaldeel Junction, where many of the
Dutchmen, confessing themselves sick of the war, surrendered. The
rest of the enemy was in swift retreat in the direction of Zand River
and Kroonstadt, where it was thought they would make a final stand.
They took care, however, to damage the rail. Rackarock, placed at
intervals on the line, was discovered by a Westralian Mounted
Infantryman. The force captured a Maxim gun and twenty-five
prisoners. Meanwhile, General Ian Hamilton had occupied Winburg.
But of his march anon. The following days, the 7th and
8th, there was a halt for two days. The object of the halt was to
enable the cavalry to return from Bloemfontein, and take its place
in the original combined scheme of operations as described, and also
to allow of the completion of certain necessary work on the railway.
On the 8th, General French with his cavalry, forming the left
wing of the advancing army, reached Smaldeel. It was doubtful
whether the Federals intended to dispute the passage of the Zand
River, but Hutton to right and Broadwood to left reconnoitred, and
it was found that both Delarey and Botha, with some sixteen guns
between them, were posted on the north bank in the direct line of
the main advance, and therefore the British troops might prepare
for stiff work.

Reports now came in that the enemy was hurrying back from
the Zand to the Vaal though some of the burghers, the Free State
ones, remained and delivered up rifles and horses to the British
authorities. They had decided to break with the Transvaalers on
the border of their territory. While the halt was taking place,
there was activity elsewhere. A strong force from Chermside’s
Division, on the 3rd, had garrisoned Wepener under Lord Castletown,
who was appointed Commissioner for the Wepener district,
and General Brabant’s Colonial Division had moved to Thabanchu,[Pg 95]
where it arrived on the 7th. On the 9th, Lord Roberts drew in his
right column, and concentrated his whole force in the neighbourhood
of Welgelegen, some seven miles south of the Zand River. The
march of General Ian Hamilton to this point now claims attention.

FROM THABANCHU TO WINBURG AND WELGELEGEN

(General Ian Hamilton)

On the 30th of April General Ian Hamilton was marching
north with a view to making his way to Winburg via the Jacobsrust
Road. His force consisted of cavalry, including Broadwood’s
mounted infantry, Smith-Dorrien’s, Bruce Hamilton’s, and Ridley’s
commands. His progress was blocked by Botha, who, having been
driven northward from Thabanchu, now turned at bay and planted
himself firmly on Thaba Mountain, and across the road towards
Houtnek. The centre and left of his position seemed almost impregnable,
therefore the right, as the weakest point, was chosen for
attack. The mounted infantry made for the stronghold, and Smith-Dorrien,
with part of his brigade, followed in support—all the troops
pushing their way towards the objective under the ferocious fire of
the foe. The Boers, seeing the designs of the British, made valiant
efforts to retain the hill, and continual reinforcements came to their
aid, rendering the task of our advancing troops more and more
dangerous. At this time, the fight growing momentarily warmer,
and the struggle for possession of the vantage point more and
more intense, Captain Towse (Gordon Highlanders) with twelve
of his men and a few of Kitchener’s Horse managed to gain the top,
but in so doing suddenly found himself and his diminutive band
removed from support. At this critical juncture a party of some 150
Boers approached, intending also to seize the plateau occupied by the
small band of Scotsmen, and came within 100 yards of the Highlanders
without either observing them or being observed by them. But,
no sooner were the Dutchmen aware of the existence of the British,
and of their small number and their apparent helplessness, than they
promptly called on them to surrender. “Surrender?” cried Captain
Towse in a voice of thunder, and instantly ordered his men to open
fire! The blood of Scotland was up. The command was quickly
obeyed, and the lion-hearted little band not only fired, but led by
their splendid officer charged fiercely with the bayonet straight into
the thick mass of Dutchmen. A moment of uproar, of amazement,
and then—flying heels. The valorous Highlanders had succeeded,
despite their inferior numbers, in driving off the hostile horde
and taking possession of the plateau! But, unfortunately, the
magnificent daring of the commanding officer had cost him almost
more than life. A shot across the eyes shattered them, blinding[Pg 96]
him, and thus depriving her Majesty’s Service of one of its noblest
ornaments.

But the great work was accomplished—and the summit of the
hill was gained and kept. The Dutchmen elsewhere, in vast
masses, were fighting hard with guns and pom-poms, and at close
of day had assumed so threatening an attitude that General French
was telegraphed for, and the troops were ordered to sleep on the
ground they had gained, and prepare to renew the attack at dawn.
General French arrived from Thabanchu the same night, and next
morning (the 1st of May) hostilities were resumed.

Again the enemy, led by Botha, fought doggedly, even brilliantly,
but the troops, after some warm fighting, succeeded in
routing him and forcing a passage to the north. In the operations
General Hamilton was assisted by Broadwood’s brigade of cavalry
and the 8th Hussars under Colonel Clowes, whose gallantry helped
to harass the enemy’s rear and forced them eventually to evacuate
their position. Bruce Hamilton’s brigade of infantry also did excellent
work. The final stroke to the enemy’s rout was effected by the
Gordons and Canadians, and two companies of the Shropshire Light
Infantry. These came within 200 yards of the foe, and with a
ringing cheer launched themselves boldly at the Dutchmen’s front—so
boldly, so dashingly indeed, that at the sheer hint of the coming
collision the Boers had scampered. Promptly the 8th Hussars
charged into the flying fugitives, and forty prisoners were “bagged.”
Guns were then galloped on the evacuated position and shells were
sent after the dispersing hordes.

The enemy lost twelve killed and forty wounded. Among the
former was a German officer and two Frenchmen, and among the
latter a Russian who commanded the Foreign Legion. The British
wounded were Captain Lord Kensington, Household Cavalry;
Major H. Alexander, 10th Hussars; Captain A. Hart, 1st East
Surrey Regiment; Captain Buckle, 2nd Royal West Kent. Captain
Cheyne, Kitchener’s Horse, was missing.

WEST SURREY	EAST SURREY
(Adjutant)	(Sergeant-Major)

Photo by Gregory & Co., London

On the 2nd, after the dashing assault of the Thaba plateau and
defeat of the Boers, a day’s halt was ordered at Jacobsrust, as
General Hamilton’s force had been incessantly fighting for over ten
days. Lord Roberts’s plan in the Free State was now nearly complete.
His proposition was to hold with an adequate force the whole
of the front from left to right—from Karee Siding, Krantz Kraal,
Springfield, the Waterworks, Thabanchu, Leeuw River Mills, and
Ladybrand—thus pressing the Boers steadily up and up, till resistance
should be pushed to the narrowest limits. Fighting here and
there continued, but the sweeping process preparatory to the great
forward move was being very thoroughly accomplished. Reinforcements
now arrived, and General Hamilton’s force, which in reference[Pg 97]
to Lord Roberts’s advance took its place as the army of the
right flank, was composed as follows:—

On the 4th the enemy, ubiquitous, were found again in great
numbers at Roelofsfontein. They formed a barrier to the onward
passage of the troops, and approaching them with a view to strengthening
that barrier came more Boers fleeing from Brandfort. There
was no time to be lost, so, with prodigious haste General Broadwood
with two squadrons of Guards Cavalry and two of the 10th Hussars
galloped to the scene, and threw a formidable wedge between the
allies. Thereupon such Boers as were hastening to fill the gap came
into collision with the cavalry. These, supported by Kitchener’s
Horse, who had dashed nimbly into the fray, succeeded in defeating
the Dutchmen and forcing them back discomfited. Their neatly
arranged plan of campaign had failed, and realising the impossibility
of joining forces, the Boers set spurs to their horses and made for
the drift, speeded in their mad career by shells from the batteries of
the Horse Artillery. But the brilliant cavalry feat was costly. Lord
Airlie, whose dash and daring had continually almost approached
recklessness, was injured, so also was Lieutenant the Hon. C. H.
Wyndham, while Lieutenant Rose (Royal Horse Guards), the gallant
A.D.C. to the late General Symons, was mortally wounded. The
unfortunate officer was felled with many bullets from some sharpshooters
who were marking the crest of the ridge held by the British.
Most of the losses were sustained by the cavalry, whose splendid
action saved much time and possibly many fierce engagements on
the line of march.

A Scots colonist who owned an estate near Winburg, which
had the misfortune to be situated in the very midst of the belligerents,
gave an interesting account of the days directly preceding
the occupation of Winburg, when a series of conflicts had been taking
place along the road from Thabanchu. From the 2nd of May and
onwards small parties of fleeing Boers and German free-lances had
been seen escaping from the British and seeking cover in the kopjes
near Welkom:—

“The Boers, nearly 4000 strong, with thirteen guns, occupied the hills
round Welkom; the British, under Generals Ian Hamilton and Broadwood, at
Verkeerdi Vlei, two hours distant, also General Colvile with the Ninth Division,
and General Hector MacDonald with the Highland Brigade, at Os Spruit, two
and a half hours farther east on the Brandfort side. Cannon firing started[Pg 98]
at 7 A.M., and continued for two or three hours, Naval guns, Armstrongs,
Howitzers, Maxim-Nordenfeldts, &c. &c., all booming together. We heard
the rifle-firing quite distinctly. About ten o’clock the Boers began to give
way, and arrived here, about 1000 of them, with six cannon. We supplied
them with water and milk, &c., and thanked God to hear them say they did
not intend making a stand. Across the river they moved through the drift
very swiftly—guns, waggons, transport, men, horses—all in fairly good order.
Just as they got through, the Boers up on the Brandfort direction began
to give way, and shells from the British cannon burst repeatedly among them.
This went on for about one hour, when a grand stampede set in, and the flight
and confusion and bursting shells was a sight never to be forgotten. In the
flight the drift got jammed up. One cannon upset in the drift and blocked the
traffic. Then they tore up here past the house, and got through at the top
drift. How they all got through is still a mystery to me. Suddenly a shell
from the large naval gun burst down at the mill. It made a terrific explosion,
and shook both house and store. The British had meantime worked round,
and got some cannon up to my camp (the Kaffirs’ huts), and began shelling the
flying Boers, as my camp commands the road for miles. The cannon-firing
was simply awful, and nearly deafened the lot of us; even things inside the
house shook.”

By-and-by when the fire slackened, to the delight of the British
party, some 500 of the 17th Lancers were seen approaching, their
scouts in advance. Quickly they were assured that they were riding
into the arms of friends. The Scotsman mounted to the roof of
his house, and there, with the white pinafore of one of his bairns in
hand, he waved a frantic welcome. The signal was returned, and
joy and relief almost overcame him. Then followed some pleasant
experiences, for the Colonist played the host to a distinguished
multitude. He said:—

“On the arrival of the Lancers we supplied them with water and tea, but
they pushed on, and the officer in charge asked me to go with him to General
Broadwood. This I did, and after satisfying him as to the roads, &c., he
thanked me and asked me for the use of the house for General Hamilton and
staff, which I said I would give. As I returned to the house on foot a wounded
officer rode up to me. This was Colonel the Earl of Airlie, in command of the
17th (12th?) Lancers, wounded in elbow. He stayed with us until next day, and
a finer and more homely man I have never met. Notwithstanding his wound, he
insisted on helping to put Tommy to bed, and, although the house was soon full
of lords, generals, &c., and the staffs of two divisions, he helped Florrie (the
host’s wife) in every way he could. Lady Airlie is in Bloemfontein, and he
returned thither. He gave us his Kirriemuir Castle address, and insists on us
coming to see him. About sundown the General and staff arrived, among
them Major Count Gleichen, Smith-Dorrien, Duke of Marlborough, and a lot
of others. Winston Churchill also was with them. The scene that night at
Welkom will never be forgotten by us. Fourteen thousand men bivouacked
on the farm, camp fires for miles around. About seven o’clock the Highland
Brigade arrived in the distance, pipes playing. It is quite dark here at 6 P.M.,
so you can picture to yourself the scene. With the arrival of MacDonald’s Highlanders
the total army on Welkom was between 19,000 and 20,000 men. The[Pg 99]
house here was in great brilliancy. The Union Jack was planted in front, and
officers were arriving every few minutes with despatches. A telegraph line is
laid by the troops as they move on, so we had a direct wire from the house
here to Bloemfontein.”

Delightful was it to the Scotsman to find himself specially introduced
to General Hector MacDonald, and see the braw company of
Highlanders march past his house. But their appearance was far
from spruce, indeed the whole army was begrimed with dust and
wear and tear, honourable filth on their bronzed and sweating faces,
for which a Walt Whitman—had such been there—would have felt
impelled to hug them. The sad part was the death of Captain
Ernest Rose (Royal Horse Guards) who had been wounded in the
previous fighting. The Colonist, writing of the affair narrated:
“When the news was brought to the General and staff at nine
o’clock at night that Rose had died of his wounds they were all
fearfully cut up. He was buried at midnight, just at the back of
the house here on the other side of road, about 100 yards from
where I now sit. The General asked me to promise him to have
the grave built in and to look after it, as it would be a fearful blow
to the officer’s father, Lord Rose. He had only two sons, and the
other one died of fever last month in Bloemfontein.” He went on
to say: “The great bulk of the troops had gone forward, only
MacDonald and the Highland Brigade remained behind, and they
were encamped over at the station, so there are still about 5000
men in town. I found Major Count Gleichen, who had stayed the
night at Welkom, was provost marshal, and Lieutenant Rymand,
intelligence officer.”

At dawn on the 6th the march to Winburg was continued, and
the troops prepared themselves again to meet with stout resistance
from the hordes which had been pressed across the drift. But
when the main army neared the outskirts of the place they were
nowhere to be seen. The fact was that the 7th Mounted Infantry
and the Hampshires had done a smart piece of work, “off
their own bat” as it were, and forced the congregating Federals to
think better of any plan of resistance to the entry into Winburg
which they had made. The little affair was concisely described by
an officer who took part in it:—

“The officer commanding the Mounted Infantry Corps ordered the 7th
Battalion Mounted Infantry (which was leading the advance on the right) to
race with the enemy for the occupation of the big hill, about 3000
feet high, overlooking Winburg, which lies between the approaches to the
town from the south and from the east, both of which it entirely commands.
The Boers were approaching this hill from the north and the east, and had they
succeeded in occupying it, we should have had great difficulty in driving them
off it and capturing Winburg. But the Mounted Infantry got there before them.
As soon as they received the order to try and occupy it, the 7th Battalion[Pg 100]
Mounted Infantry (having extricated themselves from the deep ravines near the
river) raced for the hill, the Hampshire squadron making for the point overlooking
Winburg, the Borderers and Lincolns supporting them on the right.
When half-way up the hill they jumped off their horses and scrambled to the
top, and, meeting with no opposition, made their way across the open summit
to the rocky edge overlooking Winburg. There a wonderful sight met
their view. The whole Boer force, about 5000 or 6000 strong, and several
miles in length, was seen trekking slowly past Winburg in a northerly
direction. The road they were moving by passed within about 2000 yards
of this point of the hill, so the Hampshires (who were at first only twelve
strong, the remainder having been delayed crossing the ravines) opened fire for
all they were worth to make the enemy think that the hill was strongly occupied.
This considerably hastened the enemy’s movements, and the rear-guard
commandos which had yet to pass near the hill thought better of it, and went
round another way behind some high hills out of shot.”

At noon a staff officer under a flag of truce summoned the Mayor
of the town to surrender, promising to protect private property and
pay for such foodstuffs as might be required. Thereupon was
enacted a curious drama. While the magnates were putting their
heads together and discussing the position, Botha and some five
hundred of his mercenaries came on the scene. The commandant
bounced that he would not surrender without fighting, and accused
Captain Balfour (who had offered to let such Free Staters as should
surrender their arms return to their farms) of attempting to suborn
his burghers. Botha frantically insisted on the arrest of the
staff officer, the staff officer as furiously flourished his flag of truce.
The Boers pointed their rifles, the women screamed, the townsfolk
gabbled, and general turmoil prevailed. In the end the
citizens whose property, so to speak, lay in the palm of the British
hand, preferred the Mayor’s discretion to Botha’s valour, and that
warrior, swelling with indignation, and followed by his equally bombastic
“braves,” shook the dust of the town off their shoes and
galloped to the north.

At night General Hamilton reached the town, where he was
joined by General Colville’s Division, which was marching from
Waterval towards Heilbron, and was thereupon directed to follow
the leading column at a distance of ten miles.

THE GREAT ADVANCE: LORD ROBERTS’S COLUMN CROSSING THE SAND RIVER DRIFT


Facsimile of a Sketch by Melton Prior, War Artist

The advance of the army is arranged, as some one described,
not as a continuous movement but as a caterpillar-like form of progress,
the first part of the move being a species of advance, the
second a drawing up of the tail end of the creature. Thus the vast
machine is carried from point to point, the halting-places being
usually at positions of strategic consequence. The Boers had run
away from their first positions at Brandfort and on the Vet; the
second ones on the Zand, the Valsch, and the Rhenoster were now
to be purged of the Republicans. It was necessary before going[Pg 101]
forward to make a three days’ halt, during which the tail end of the
monster—the railway—was put in working order, and supplies
collected and brought up. The enemy’s position on the Zand was
reconnoitred, and on the 9th the advance was resumed, General
Ian Hamilton hurrying to assist in the operations at the Zand River,
the Highland Brigade being left in possession of Winburg.

TOWARDS THE ZAND RIVER TO KROONSTADT

By the 9th of May, as we know, General Pole-Carew’s and
General Tucker’s Divisions and General Ian Hamilton’s Column
(moving from Winburg), with Naval and Royal Garrison
Artillery guns, and four brigades of cavalry, had concentrated at
Welgelegen. The enemy, pushed back on all sides, now held
the opposite bank of the Zand River in force; but nevertheless
it was decided that the army would cross, and cross it did. The
crossing was accomplished on the 10th, the enemy being routed
from all his strong positions. According to the correspondent of
the Times, the scheme for the general advance had been planned
as follows: “A concentration of the line of advance was to take
place at Kroonstadt. General Ian Hamilton, after leaving a
brigade at Winburg, was to advance on the right flank with his
Mounted Infantry, Broadwood’s Cavalry Brigade, and the 19th
Brigade, via Ventersburg. The main advance with Lord Roberts
was to be made by the Eleventh Division, supported by Gordon’s
Cavalry Brigade, the connection between the railway and right
flank being kept by General Tucker’s Division. The left was
entrusted to General French with the 1st and 4th Cavalry Brigades
and General Hutton’s Brigade of Mounted Infantry. As the left
in all probability would find it necessary to act independently, the
Mounted Infantry belonging to General Tucker became attached
to the main column for screening purposes.”

The enemy, some 6000 strong with 15 guns, was found to be
posted on a series of hills running diagonally against the east side
of the Zand, but after some vigorous shelling by General Tucker
they evacuated their main position by the river, blew up various
culverts that lay in front of the British force, and prepared to make
a vigorous stand against the Mounted Infantry advancing in the
centre. These, having debouched on the plain on the north of the
river were promptly assailed by guns from the hills to the right, but
they still pushed on towards the west of the railway, while a battery
of Horse Artillery tackled the region whence came the hostile shells.
The scene of the fight was dotted with farmhouses and native kraals,
and here numerous parties of skirmishers were knowingly concealed.
The 8th Mounted Infantry Corps, dismounting, advanced in ex[Pg 102]tended
order across the nullah-riven plain under a heavy shell
fire, while the British guns barked merrily and wrought devastation
among the Boer guns, which were hastily scurried away, pursued
now by the 4th Mounted Infantry, who, full of excitement,
galloped off to capture the retiring treasures, and in so doing
ran almost into the arms of some 500 Boers. These, rushing
from ambush, forced them back on their supports. But the
fire from a well-directed Maxim, and from Lumsden’s Horse, who
had captured a hill and stuck to it amid a hurricane of Boer missiles,
served to rout the Dutchmen and send them after their guns and
convoy, which unfortunately, by this time, had been got safely away.

Of General Ian Hamilton’s part in the proceedings on the right
an eye-witness contributed to the Morning Post an interesting
account:—

“At daybreak on May 9 Ian Hamilton’s column left their bivouac at Klipfontein
and marched north to Boemplatz Farm without resistance. About
mid-day the Mounted Infantry, who were a mile or two ahead of the column,
on topping the ridges overlooking Zand River, came under fire of the
enemy concealed in the dongas near the river, and on the hills beyond, and in
the kopjes on our right. They remained there all the afternoon, peppering and
being peppered in return. The veldt here was alive with buck and hartebeest,
and they were so tame that herds of them grazed between the Mounted Infantry
screen and the main body. This was too much for some officers of the C.I.V.,
and they left their bivouac near the main body, about a mile in the rear, and
let drive at the buck.

“Meanwhile the Hampshire Squadron of Mounted Infantry, which were
playing hide and seek with their brother Boers, began to wonder how it was
that bullets were coming from their rear as well as from their front. When
they discovered that these bullets from the rear were intended for buck, they
sent down a message, the language of which was hardly parliamentary, to the
would-be buck slayers, and threatened to send a volley at the buck themselves.
More Boer commandos were seen to be arriving from the east towards dusk,
so there seemed to be every prospect of a warm time the next day, especially
on the right flank. Up till now Ian Hamilton’s column had been working quite
independently, and had marched north from Thabanchu as a flying column, but
this afternoon we were acquainted with the presence of another force on our
left by seeing Lord Roberts’s balloon in the air about eight miles away. That
Lord Roberts met with but slight resistance may be accounted for by the fact
that Ian Hamilton’s column away on his right was always a few miles ahead of
him, and threatened the enemy’s flank. Lord Roberts’s force had been marching
north along the line of railway, and now the two columns were converging
with a view to reaching Kroonstadt together.

“Those on outpost duty that night heard the rumbling of waggons for
many hours in the vicinity of the enemy. Evidently their transport was being
moved out of harm’s way. The night was bitterly cold, and many of those on
outpost duty had nothing but greatcoats to keep them warm, some of the
waggons not having yet arrived. At daybreak our ‘Long Toms’ made excellent
practice at what looked like a Boer laager on the slope of the hill across
the river to the north. At about 7 P.M. the battle commenced in earnest, and[Pg 103]
the crack of our rifles, the double crack of the enemy’s, the barking of Maxims,
the ‘pom-pom’ of the Vickers-Maxims, and the boom of the ‘Long Toms’
were heard all along the line. Our front must have been ten or fifteen miles
along the Zand River, because Roberts’s column was now a few miles to our
left, and French’s Cavalry Division was on Roberts’s left; but for reasons
mentioned above the Boers showed a bold front to Ian Hamilton’s column
only. The enemy kept up a steady fire from the positions they had occupied
during the night, some Boers in the dongas having advanced to within a short
distance of our firing line.

“As the day wore on, reinforcements appeared to arrive for the enemy, and
they made a determined effort to turn our right. Here they were opposed by
Kitchener’s Horse, who were hard pressed, and had to be hurriedly reinforced
by the New Zealanders. On the extreme right the enemy now became very
bold, and report says that the sergeant-major of Kitchener’s Horse made a
bull’s-eye on a Boer’s head at only fifteen yards’ distance. All this time we
had kept the enemy at bay without the aid of a single gun, though they had
been firing at us with common shell and shrapnel, but to our great joy in the
afternoon four field-guns came to our assistance, and proceeded to deluge the
kopjes and dongas with shrapnel. Brother Boer now finding matters getting
rather unpleasant slunk out of the dongas and off the kopjes in groups of ten
and twenty in an easterly direction, and now the enemy having been pressed
back all along the line, the 7th Mounted Infantry, Kitchener’s Horse, and the
New Zealanders were left as a rear-guard, and the main body moved on five or
six miles. At dark we followed them, and crossed the Zand River unmolested,
and bivouacked on the other side of the drift on the position which had been
all day occupied by the Boers. It was reported that the following day the
bodies of fifty or sixty of the enemy were found in the Zand River dongas,
and many more on the kopjes on the right, so the losses were not all on our
side.”

[Pg 104]The following casualties occurred in General Ian Hamilton’s
column during the day’s fight: Second Lieutenant R. E. Paget,
1st Royal Sussex Regiment, wounded; Captain Leonard Head,
East Lancashire Regiment, dangerously wounded (since dead).

Meanwhile General French, whose object was to turn the
enemy’s right flank and capture Ventersburg station by nightfall,
had also a brisk encounter with the Boers, which involved some loss
of life, particularly among the Inniskillings. The 1st Brigade, under
General Porter, advanced towards a kopje, which was captured by
the Inniskillings. Here they were confronted by an advancing
khaki-clad regiment, said to be the newly raised Afrikander Horse,
which was mistaken for British troops. Before they could be recognised
they had opened fire on the hills, and so violently assailed
those holding it, that the Dragoons were forced to make for their
horses, leaving behind them fourteen slain and many wounded.
Guns and the dashing Canadians were sent in support of General
Porter, while General French continued to develop his flanking
movement. The 4th Brigade (8th Hussars and 7th Dragoons) were
deployed on the right of the enemy, and grandly charged a body[Pg 105]
some 300 strong. They, however, suffered considerably in consequence,
for while rallying, the squadrons were fiercely fired on
by such of the Dutchmen who had succeeded in bolting to cover,
dismounting and firing, before the assailants could get out of range.
The object of the charge was nevertheless effected, and by nightfall,
by a series of tactical evolutions—a species of military impromptu
resulting from the exigencies of the situation—the enemy’s flank
had been turned, and the Cavalry Division was safely disposed at
Graspan. Unfortunately, the casualties during this movement were
heavy, some 200 slain, wounded, and missing.

THE SURRENDER OF KROONSTADT: TROOPS MARCHING PAST LORD ROBERTS AND STAFF


Drawing by S. Begg, from a Sketch by Melton Prior, War Artist

It was reported that a party of the British, going up to a kraal on
which a white flag was hoisted, were suddenly attacked by a large
number of the enemy. Two officers, Captain Haig, of the 6th
Dragoons, and Lieutenant Wilkinson, 1st Australian Horse, were
taken prisoners, and several men were unaccounted for. During
the day’s fight, Captain C. K. Elworthy, 6th Dragoon Guards
(Carabiniers) was killed. Among the wounded were: 6th Dragoon
Guards (Carabiniers)—Lieutenant R. H. Collis; Lieutenant M. M.
Moncrieff. Tasmanian Mounted Infantry—Major C. Cameron.

On the evening of the 10th, the British Army, converging in the
direction of Kroonstadt, occupied a front of some twenty miles, of
which the left centre (Pole-Carew’s Division) was at Ventersburg
Road. Ventersburg Siding had been demolished by the departing
Boers, or rather by their mercenaries, the Irish-Americans, but the
Boers here made no show of opposition. They were very near at
hand, however, for report said the valorous Steyn had but a few
hours previously been wasting tears and threats on recalcitrant
burghers in the district, burghers who, now refusing to fight any more,
hung about for the purpose of laying down their arms.

On the 11th, the army moved on some twelve miles to Geneva Siding.
In front, the left wing (French’s Cavalry) flew ever well ahead,
while the right centre (Tucker’s Division) marched slightly in the rear,
and the right wing (Hamilton’s Column) worked its way onwards in
the direction of Lindley. By dusk, General French had seized a drift
over the Valshe River, below Kroonstadt, just in time to prevent
the passage being opposed by the enemy. The manœuvre was
cleverly managed, and in most inconvenient circumstances, for the
transport having gone back to the Zand River, men and horses had
been already a day without food. But rapidity was the word, and
the deed kept pace with it. Both brigades were advanced as
swiftly as possible, and divided each towards a convenient drift,
scurrying to get there before the enemy could be informed of the
direction taken. The result was, that when the foe, strong in
men and guns, debouched from the scrub-country in the region of
Kroonstadt, they were saluted with heartiness by the 4th Brigade,[Pg 106]
who had taken possession of the coveted vantage ground. The
Boers retreated, and gathered themselves together to guard the
road to the town; but General French made a rapid detour,
which they saw might outflank them, whereupon they discreetly
withdrew.

At night a gallant effort was made by that indefatigable officer,
Major Hunter Weston, R.E., to cut the railway communications in rear
of the enemy. Escorted by a squadron of cavalry, and accompanied
by Burnham the American scout and eight smart sappers, he proceeded
as usual, under cover of darkness, towards the line. Here,
however, he came in touch with the Boers, and his troopers charged
the Dutch patrol and captured them. Then leaving his escort, he, the
scout and sappers, after much hiding in the moonlight and groping
in nullahs, reached the line through the enemy’s convoy and launched
the explosive into the midst of the Dutchmen, causing considerable
panic among them. He, however, was defeated in his main object,
though the hairbreadth escapes and deeds of cool-headed pluck
accomplished during the small hours of the night make a long tale,
both exciting and soul-stirring.

On Saturday the advance was resumed. The town of Boschrand,
some eight miles below Kroonstadt, was found deserted,
the Boers before the ubiquitous French having sped as an arrow
from the bow. The Dutchmen had taken care to put a good deal
of country between them and the British, for, after reconnaissance
towards Kroonstadt had been made, it was found that though they
had been seen the night before encamped from Kroonstadt to
Honing Spruit they had melted away, and had evidently decided
that they would make no further stand till the British arrived
within the confines of the Transvaal. President Steyn had already
taken himself off to Lindley, and Commandant Botha had departed
with his Transvaal burghers to prepare for a big fight on the Vaal.

The entry of Lord Roberts into Kroonstadt was a fine spectacle,
all the men, despite their hard, 128-mile march being in splendid condition,
and wearing on their faces the air of honest satisfaction at work
accomplished—pride in themselves and in their admired Chief.
The procession was headed by Lord Roberts’s bodyguards, who
were all of them Colonials. Following them came the staff and
foreign attachés, then trooped in the North Somerset Company
of the Imperial Yeomanry, a stalwart and bronzed host; after which
marched General Pole-Carew’s Division, consisting of the Guards,
the 18th Brigade, the Naval Brigade, the 83rd, 84th, and 85th
Batteries, two 5-inch guns manned by Royal Artillerymen, and the
12th Company of Royal Engineers. The sight was a most imposing
one, and the vision of troops apparently innumerable streaming
through the streets highly impressed the Boers, who many of them[Pg 107]
had entered on the war with the highest confidence in their military
prowess and the inferiority of the British as a fighting race.

Kroonstadt on the Valsch River.

Mr. Steyn, it was said, before his departure the previous night
had used in vain, persuasions, threats, and even violence to the
burghers in the effort to rally them. An enterprising photographer
went so far as to take a portrait of the late President in act of
kicking and cuffing his followers—“to put valour into them,” so it
was explained. They, however, turned their backs on the smiter,
and many of them surrendered to Lord Roberts. Mr. Steyn had
announced that in future Lindley, situated between Kroonstadt and
Bethlehem, would become the seat of the Free State Government,
and thither fled, knowing in his heart that the days of the Free
State were numbered. The Transvaalers, disgusted with the
“Orange” men, had refused any longer to fight in the Free State,
and took themselves off to the Vaal River; while, on the other
hand, the Free Staters, furious with the Transvaalers, charged
them with having made them into a “cat’s-paw” and then left them
in the lurch. The valiant Federals were, in fact, at loggerheads, and
many surrendered, being only too thankful to part company with
their quondam allies.

The troops halted at Kroonstadt for ten days to recuperate, and
while they enjoyed their well-earned rest, stirring events took place
elsewhere.

[Pg 108]

CHAPTER V

MAFEKING

There was an immense amount of undiscovered genius
in Mafeking till Colonel Baden-Powell brought it to the
front. The art of making ball-cartridges out of blank,
and the manufacture of gunpowder, cannon, shells, fuses,
postage stamps, bank notes, and a strategetic railway, served
to occupy and amuse those whose days were an unending round of
monotony. The Colonel’s vigilance, that in other times had earned
for him the Matabele title of “’Mpeesi, the wolf that never sleeps,”
communicated itself to all, and it was to this general spirit of alertness
that the success of the garrison’s sturdy defence was due.
But on their hearts despond was setting its seal; young faces were
becoming lined with anxiety, and even those whose dramatic
powers enabled them to feign merriment were conscious that the
effort was becoming even more pathetic than resignation to
their fate.

MAFEKING: “THE WOLF THAT NEVER SLEEPS”


Drawing by W. Hatherell, R.I., from materials supplied by Major F. D. Baillie,
Correspondent of the Morning Post

Young Eloff, who had gallantly volunteered to subdue Mafeking
or die in the attempt, beguiled the interval in preparing for
his feat of chivalry by indulging in a mild form of jocosity. He
informed Colonel Baden-Powell that he had heard of his Sabbath
concerts, tournaments, and cricket matches, and would be glad, as
it was dull outside, to come in and participate in them. The
Colonel replied in the same vein—begged to postpone a return
match till the present one was finished, and suggested as they were
now 200 not out, and Snyman and Cronje had been unsuccessful,
a further change of bowling might be advantageous! In reality the
young Boer was racking his brains with plans for the future, getting
information regarding the forts and defences, and deciding when the
time came for assault to do the thing with a flash and a flourish!

And his ambition was not entirely groundless, for things were
coming to a sorry pass, and the tension grew daily more severe. It
was necessary to be eternally pushing out trenches and capturing
forts in order to secure grazing and breathing space, but this action
had the result of so extending the lines, that the problem of how
to protect ten miles of perimeter against some 2000 Boers, with
only 700 men, became harder than ever to grapple with. Fortunately
there was still an inner line, but even this was difficult to[Pg 109]
guard, now that the gallant seven hundred were reduced in stamina
by long privation and immediate famine.

A great deal of irritation was caused by pilfering and house-breaking
that went on. As the men were in the trenches and the
women in the women’s laagers, all the ill-conditioned vagabonds,
the human sauria that had trailed from the Rand and Bulawayo,
at the hint of loot “made hay” while there was no police at liberty
to cope with them. Every hand in Mafeking had been required,
and the police had been forced to become soldiers, defenders of the
state and not of private property. And well they had done their
work! For over six months some 2000 to 3000 Boers had found
fodder here for their eight guns, including a 9-pounder. They had
been kept stationary, and thus prevented from combining with the
Tuli column, or invading Rhodesia, or joining forces with any of
the aggressive commandos in the south. And this wonderful
arrest had been accomplished by men who at the beginning of
hostilities were practically unarmed and unfortified. It was no
marvel, therefore, that President Kruger and his advisers, who
had started their fell work with such confidence, now began to wag
their heads in acridity and dismay. The overweening bumptiousness
of the several commandants who, full of buoyant and bellicose
aspirations, had attempted the subjugation of Mafeking, had been
their undoing. These had become the laughing-stock even of their
own people.

Commandant Cronje early in the war had been so convinced of
his ability to capture Mafeking that he had caused a proclamation to
be printed annexing the district to the South African Republic.
But he had found it a disastrous place, and had left it with some
loss of prestige, as had many others who had attempted “to do the
trick” and failed. Until this date the Boers had expended considerably
over 100 tons of ammunition, lost over 1000 men killed
and wounded, and had four guns disabled, yet nothing was accomplished.

Commandant Eloff was then specially deputed by Kruger to
pulverise “B.P.”, and came to his work in high spirits accompanied
by a man—a deserter—who, having served as a trooper in the Protectorate
Regiment, was well acquainted with the plans of the fortifications
and the military customs of the place. Of course, it was the
object of the youthful commandant to make an attack as speedily as
possible, for rumours of approaching relief threatened to put an end
to his machinations and spoil his ambitious scheme. He knew that
a relief column had reached and was advancing from Setlagoli, and
that what had to be done must be done now or never. Still he had
a notion that after passing Kraaipan any journey for troops would be
arid, waterless, and discomforting, and believed that the column[Pg 110]
might be cut off before it could offer serious opposition to his
plans.

Commandant Snyman, on his side, was as depressed as his
colleague was jaunty. He was scarcely flattered to find a youngster
determining to solve a problem which for a considerable time had
defeated him, and therefore at the onset, in regard to the momentous
plans for attack, the two commandants were scarcely at one. The
rift widened as affairs developed. Indeed, in letters which subsequently
passed between the pair, it was discovered that Eloff, to
use his own words, “had been preparing to trip him up for years.”
This Snyman must evidently have known, and determined to show—as
he did when the opportunity offered—that “two could play at
that game.” At this time, however, though the trail of the green
and yellow monster might have been seen winding about the Boer
laagers, there was no suspicion that when combined action against
the common enemy—the British—would be needed the older commandant
would fail the younger one.

Curiously enough, though at the instance of the Boers the Sunday
truce had been agreed upon, they were the first to break through
the compact. On the 6th of May, while the usual auction sales were
taking place, and the ladies were cautiously doing their weekly
shopping, an affair of some moment since prices ruled high, the
rattle of musketry betrayed that something was wrong. It was then
discovered that the Boers had fired on the horse guard, killing
Trooper Franch, and wounding three horses, and causing a stampede
of the herd towards their own lines. Fortunately the ever-wary
B. P. kept a machine gun in the valley, and a sharp engagement
took place, but nevertheless the Boers succeeded in capturing some
of the all too precious cattle. The affair was soon over and the
terrified ladies continued their shopping, but the incident was
sufficient to demonstrate that soon, if the Boers should fail to
succeed by fair means, they would have recourse to foul.

At last, on the 12th of May, came the great, the long-looked-for
assault. It was not yet dawn, the stars were still blinking pallidly,
when an ominous crackling awoke the town. It came from the east,
where rosy tints of the sunrise were beginning to show themselves.
At once every one was astir. The alarm bugle blared out, bells
sounded, forms all sketchily attired, some still in pyjamas, rushed to
their posts.

Though the bullets came from the east, whizzing and phutting
into the market-square, Colonel Baden-Powell, with his natural
astuteness, declared that the real attack would come not from there
but from the west, the corner where stood the stadt of the Baralongs.
All got their horses ready, armed themselves with whatever
came to hand, and fled precipitately out into the nipping air of the[Pg 111]
morning. For an hour this brisk fusillade continued, then at about
5.30 there was a lull. The sun now was slowly beginning to
rise, reddening the east with vivid blushes. But the colonel’s eyes
were fixed on the west, and there sure enough was what at first
seemed a reflection of the sunrise—a tremendous flaming mirage
surmounted by dense volumes of smoke, and accompanied by a weird
stentorian crackling commingled with yells discordant, and despairing
lamentations from the direction of the native village. There was
no doubt about it, the stadt was ablaze! whether by accident or
design none at that moment could decide. Away went the guns,
after them the Bechuanaland Rifles, rushing to the fray; and then on
the morning breeze came a strange sound—cheers—but not British
cheers—cheers that sent a thrill of horror through all who anxiously
awaited the upshot of the encounter. It was scarcely to be credited,
but it was the truth! The enemy had arrived! They were already in
the fort that was held by Colonel Hore and his staff! They were
not 500 yards off! At this time, though the bullets from the east
fell less thickly, those from the west began to pour in, and through
this cross fire the besieged rushed to their several destinations.
Women, distracted, fled hither and thither; men shot and shouted
and gave orders. Columns of smoke and cascades of sparks told
the tale of conflagration, and natives scared, babbling, panic-stricken,
tore through the streets.

There was just cause for alarm. The evil hour had come.
The Boers had reached the orderly-room which stood outside the
Kaffirs’ stadt. The clerk, finding himself surrounded, hurriedly
telephoned to the Colonel, “The Boers are all in among us.” Such
news it was almost impossible to credit, and the Colonel put his ear
to the telephone. Then the sound of Dutch voices convinced him
of the horrible truth. The next thing was a message saying that
the Boers had taken Colonel Hore and his force prisoners, and that
the British were powerless to help them. Telephonic communication
was immediately destroyed with wire-pliers, but a state of
consternation prevailed. It was perfectly true that Colonel Hore
was powerless, as with his small force of twenty-three all told it was
impossible to guard the many outbuildings that surrounded him
against such overwhelming numbers, particularly as at first in the
dusk it had been impossible to distinguish whether the advancing
men were foes or friends.

All—young and old, men and even women—were madly rushing
to the front, all eager to check the Boers in their wild rush forward.
The prisoners in the jail were let loose and armed to join in the
common duty, small boys seized weapons, shovels or pokers for want
of anything better, and invited themselves to help to turn the invaders
out. A singular cheeriness prevailed; the sniff of battle[Pg 112]
exhilarated, intoxicated them; they swore to protect Mafeking or
die in the attempt!

Meanwhile the dashing Eloff, who so long had boasted that he
would bring Mafeking to her knees, had at last achieved something
of a success. The fort was seized. He and his band of 700 men
had advanced up the Molopo, burnt the stadt as a signal to his allies,
and thus made an entry. The storming party was composed mostly
of foreigners, and numbered some 300 all told. Many of them were
Frenchmen, who, when they emerged from Hidden Hollow and
rushed on Colonel Hore’s fort, were heard to be shouting “Fashoda!
Fashoda!” while such Boers as could speak English were sent in
front to roar “Hip, hip, hurrah! Relieved at last!” so as to deceive
the besieged with the idea that the relief column was arriving. Behind
were 500 burghers, with Snyman, in support; but when they
heard the firing they discreetly waited to see the result, and through
their discretion Eloff eventually lost what he had gained. The
Baralongs, whose stadt was burning, and who themselves were
burning for revenge, had permitted some 300 of the party to seize
the outlying forts, and then, with an astuteness peculiar to them,
decided they would get between the Dutchmen and their supports,
and “kraal them up like cattle.” But this was not done in a
moment.

To return. When the storming party had reached the fort, they
broke up into three. One hundred and fifty of them attacked the
fort and seized it, together with the Colonel and twenty-three men
of the Protectorate Regiment, who, mistaking them in the dusk of
the early dawn for friends, had not fired. When they found out
their mistake, it was too late.

Regarding Colonel Hore’s lamentable position and his surrender,
the correspondent of the Times, who had the ill luck as a man and
the good luck as a journalist to get taken prisoner, said: “Commandant
Eloff demanded the unconditional surrender of the twenty-three
men who were established at the fort, an order which, had Colonel
Hore refused, implied that every man with him would be shot.
The exigencies of the situation had thus suddenly thrown upon the
shoulders of this very gallant officer an almost overwhelming responsibility.
It was impossible to withdraw to the town. Such a movement
would have meant retirement over 700 yards of open, level
ground without a particle of cover, and with a force of 300 of the
enemy immediately in the rear. For a moment Colonel Hore had
considered, but realising that escape was impossible, that indeed the
Boers were all round him, he ordered the surrender, accepting the
responsibility of such an act in the hope of saving the lives of the
men who were with him. But the situation imperatively demanded
this action in consequence of events over which he had no control.[Pg 113]
It was, perhaps, a moment as pathetic and great as any in his career,
which, honourable and distinguished as it has been, has brought to
him some six medals. The surrender was effected at 5.25 A.M., and
the news of such a catastrophe did not tend to relieve the gravity of
the situation. With the Boers in the fort and in occupation of the
stadt, it was necessary so to arrange our operations that any junction
between the stadt and the fort would be impossible. At the same
time we were compelled to prevent those Boers who were in the
stadt from cutting their way through to the main body of the enemy.
The situation was indeed complex, and throughout the remainder
of the day the skirmishing in the stadt and the repulse of the feints
of the enemy’s main body, delivered in different directions against
the outposts, were altogether apart from the siege which we were
conducting within our own investment. From the town very heavy
rifle fire was directed upon the fort, which the Boers in that quarter
returned with spirit and determination. But the position in the
stadt had become acute, since behind our outposts and our inner
chain of forts, which are situated upon its exterior border, were a
rollicking, roving band of 400 Boers, who for the time being were
indulging in pillage and destruction wherever it was possible.”

LIEUT.-GENERAL SIR FREDERICK CARRINGTON, K.C.M.G.


Photo by Elliot & Fry, London

For those inside the fort the tension was extreme. Colonel Hore,
with Captain Singleton, Veterinary Lieutenant Dunlop Smith, fifteen
non-commissioned officers and men of the Protectorate Regiment,
Captain Williams and three men of the South Africa Police, and
some native servants, were packed in by a crowd of the enemy,
while a babel of tongues—German, French, Italian, Dutch—made
a clamour that obfuscated the senses. Many of the Boers were
busy looting, breaking open anything that came to hand in the
officers’ quarters, notwithstanding the remonstrances of their allies,
the foreigners. Trooper Hayes, a deserter from the Protectorate
Regiment, who was well acquainted with the fortifications, and had
led Eloff into the town, swaggered about in the presence of the
prisoners adorned with Colonel Hore’s sword, and his watch and
chain. His desire to get rid of as many of the British as
possible was shown by his suggestion that they should stand on
the verandah as a mark for their own men. Through the long
hours the prisoners were cabined and confined in a very limited
space, listening to the progress of the battle which still raged outside,
and hearing the hail of bullets, hostile and friendly, that spluttered
and splintered around the fort. It was a dreadful day of
suspense and agony. Food was handed in, but water, owing to the
tanks having been perforated by bullets, was scarce, and the sufferings
of the wounded, both Britons and Boers, were horrible. Bravely
Mr. Dunlop Smith and his assistants responded to the call of Eloff
to assist the wounded Boers, and nobly they risked their lives over[Pg 114]
and over again, running the gantlet of the British fire in the service
of their fellow-creatures.

Meanwhile Baden-Powell’s braves had surrounded the fort, and
managed to make a vigorous stand against further encroachment of
the enemy, while skirmishing of a more or less desperate kind was
taking place in the direction of the stadt, round the kraal, and a
kopje in its vicinity.

General Baden-Powell, Lord Edward Cecil, and other Officers, at the
Entrance to their “Dug-out.” (Photo by D. Taylor, Mafeking.)

The capture of the kraal and surroundings by Major Godley, Captain
Marsh, and Captain Fitzclarence was ingeniously accomplished.
They had not taken lessons in Boer warfare for six months for nothing,
consequently, instead of making themselves targets for the foe, they
crept towards the walls, bored loopholes with their bayonets, and
poured their fire on the invaders. These fought pluckily, but presently
came the artillery, and directly the order was given to commence
fire the enemy thought it high time to surrender. Then came
the question of the fort, where Colonel Hore was still the prisoner
of Eloff. Brisk and accurate firing took place, and so hot was the
attack that many of the British were wounded by their own people.[Pg 115]
The victorious Eloff and his party, cut off from his supports and
devoid of the assistance reckoned on from Snyman, now found
his position as conqueror highly unenviable. Night was coming
on, and many of his party struggled to slink out and desert him,
but he fired on them and left their dead bodies to add to the
confusion. Finally, as there was no help from without, Eloff—surrounded
by Colonel Baden-Powell’s troops—did the only thing
that could be done in the circumstances—he surrendered to his
own prisoner, Colonel Hore. Thereupon, he, and others of his
gang, numbering 110, including Baron de Bremont, Captain von
Weissmann, and several field-cornets, were deprived of their arms
and marched into the town, to be accommodated in the Masonic
Hall and in the jail. Their appearance was greeted with courteous
silence and a certain admiration for the daring of the attack, but the
exuberance of the Kaffirs was uncheckable, and they hooted lustily.
They had suffered much at the hands of their tormentors, and in
this, their hour of triumph, they would not be denied. Of the
Boers, 110 were prisoners, 10 were killed, and 19 wounded. It was
supposed that other corpses may have been dragged away and disposed
of by the natives, who thus got possession of rifles, which
weapons had been refused them by the British.

The British casualties were:—

Killed.—Lieutenant Phillips, Trooper Maltuschek, Trooper Duberley.
Wounded.—Captain Singleton, Lieutenant G. Bridges, Sergeant Hoskings,
Regimental Sergeant-Major S. Malley—all of the Protectorate Regiment;
Hazelrigg, Cape Police; Smidt, Town Guard.

Sergeant-Major Heale, in charge of the Dutch prisoners, an
esteemed member of the garrison, was killed by a shell. Of Trooper
Maltuschek, a few words written by Major Baillie deserve to be
quoted, as showing the manner of man and Briton he was. It
appears that the gallant fellow absolutely declined to surrender,
and fought till he was killed. “It wasn’t a case of dashing in
and dashing out and having your fun and a fight; it was a case
of resolution to die sooner than throw down your arms; the
wisdom may be questionable, the heroism undoubted. He
wasn’t taking any surrender. As far as I am concerned, I have
seen the British assert their superiority over foreigners before
now, but this man, in my opinion, though I did not see him die,
was the bravest man who fought on either side that day. It is
a good thing to be an Englishman. These foreigners start too
quick and finish quicker. They are good men, but we are better,
and have proved so for several hundred years. I had always
wanted to see the Englishman fight in a tight hole, and I know
what he is worth now. He can outstay the other chap.” In these[Pg 116]
last words is the whole summing up of the story of battle. In
Mafeking, particularly on this terrific day, the British men—and
women—had “outstayed the other chap.”

The reason that the loss after so many hours’ fighting was comparatively
insignificant, was owing to the fact that the garrison was
so splendidly handled, and that every soul, ladies included, took a
plucky share in the work. Lady Sarah Wilson, Mrs. Buchan, Miss
Crawford, and Miss Hill, the matron of the hospital, all distinguished
themselves by their plucky actions; and Mrs. Winter and
Mrs. Bradley were indefatigable in ministering to the wants of the
men. Even the most peaceful beings became bellicose in the
common cause, and Reuter’s correspondent gave an amusing
account of how Mr. Whales, the editor of the Mafeking Mail,
who was exceedingly plucky but quite unacquainted with military
matters, comported himself in the dire emergency. When the
railway workshops were manned Mr. Whales got a gun to help;
but every time he discharged it, it hit him on the nose, with the
result that when all was over, he returned to the bosom of his family
covered with his own blood!

Of course this was merely a passing jocosity, for the same
chronicler declared that “the most interesting phase of the fight was
the manner in which every one in the town showed himself ready to
take his share in its defence. The seven months’ siege had left
very few cowards. All sorts of men who have staff billets and do
not generally man the forts seized rifles and hurried to the railway
line, the jail, and the workshops, resolved to die in the last ditch,
which was the railway line, within three hundred yards of the
market-square, the enemy being only five hundred yards below the
line.” He further said, “It is customary in London rather to look
down on town guards, Volunteers, and citizen soldiers, but it was by
these that the town was held and Commandant Eloff was beaten.”

Strange tales were told in that eventful day of the kind treatment
meted out to the Boers. They were given clean towels and
soap (the latter was at first mistaken for an eatable), and tended like
brothers, while all the past aggravations endured at their hands
were forgotten or at least ignored. The prisoners, wounded or
sound, were greeted almost affectionately by the town. Such drink
as there was was shared, and for the time being, amid the general
jubilation, at the close of the melodramatic episodes of the day it
was difficult to decide which were the happier, friend or foe. Thus
generously wrote Mr. Angus Hamilton of the enemy: “We who
had been prisoners and were now free rejoiced in the liberty which
was restored to us, yet it was difficult to restrain oneself from feeling
compassionately upon the great misfortunes which had attended the
extraordinary dash and gallantry of the men who were now our[Pg 117]
prisoners. They had done their best. They had proved to us
that they were indeed capable, and that we should have kept a
sharper look-out, while it was indeed deplorable to think that it was
the treachery of their own general in abandoning them to their
fate, that had been mainly instrumental in procuring them their
present predicament.”

Sergeant Stuart’s account of his experiences was curious. On
the morning that Eloff entered, he heard shooting at the east end
of the town, and sprang out of bed, “shoved” on a coat, and seized
his rifle. When he got out he saw flames at the west end, and ran
across the open towards the fort. When he came nearer he saw
400 Boers looking over a wall. They cried out, ‘Up hands!
surrender.’ He was within forty yards, so he turned and bolted.
They fired but did not touch him, and he reached the fort. He
surrendered soon after, with Colonel Hore and twenty-four others.
They were put into a little hut, and kept there all day, firing going
on all round. At 6 P.M. Eloff came into the room—about six feet
square—and leant against the door, and said, ‘Where is Colonel
Hore?’ ‘There he is.’ ‘I surrender,’ said Eloff, ‘if you will spare
our lives and stop the firing.’ The prisoners then sprang up and
took their rifles from them, making them their prisoners.’ Another
authority declared that when Eloff was taken before Colonel
Baden-Powell, that officer with his customary ease received him
affably, and merely said, “Come and have dinner; I am just about
to have mine!” Certain it is that Commandant Eloff, Captain von
Weissmann, and Captain Bremont were entertained at headquarters.

WITH COLONEL MAHON’S FORCE

There were whispers in Bloemfontein, there were whispers in
Kimberley, there were whispers in Natal. Secretly a scheme,
originated by Sir Archibald Hunter (commanding Tenth Division),
for the relief of Mafeking was being organised, and the action was
to be started so that the movements of the flying column formed
for the purpose should synchronise with Lord Roberts’s great
advance on Pretoria. The Imperial Light Horse (Colonel
Edwards) whose laurels had grown green in the harsh nursery of
Ladysmith, were brought over from Natal; the Diamond Fields
Horse, and the Kimberley Light Horse (Colonel King), who had
developed into veterans to the tune of the Kamferdam big gun,
were marked down for the dashing enterprise. Some picked men—twenty-five
from each of the four battalions of Barton’s Fusilier
Brigade, under Captain Carr (7th Royals)—were also included
among the “braves” who were to form part of Mahon’s flying
column, and M Battery R.H.A., under Major Jackson.[Pg 118]

The object of the flying
column was to fly, but
at the same time it behoved
the expedition to be
discreet in its rush, for any
advance that could not provide
convoy, stores, and
medical comfort for the relief
would have ended in a
showy demonstration which
would have been more embarrassing
to the besieged
than satisfactory. It was
necessary to go well laden,
and thus keep together the
body and soul of Mafeking,
and the party of
rescuers were immovable
till General Hunter, slower
and surer in his progress,
should have advanced along
the railway and repaired
the line. It was also imperative
to avoid, if possible,
any collision with the
enemy till Mafeking should
be neared, and there was a
chance of co-operation by
Colonel Plumer’s and Colonel
Baden-Powell’s men.

Map and Itinerary of Colonel Mahon’s Dash to
Mafeking.

The organisation of the
transport was therefore a
very serious undertaking,
one which engaged all the
attention of Major Money,
R.A., for over a week, and
which involved indescribable
labour. Major Money’s
qualifications as an organiser
have been described as
second only to those of
Colonel Ward, the “Universal
Provider” of Ladysmith.
Assisting also was
Captain Cobbe (Bengal[Pg 119]
Lancers), who had been laboriously engaged in transport work
both in Naauwpoort and Kimberley.

Efforts to maintain secrecy regarding the movement of the force
were many, and all connected with the programme were vowed to
silence regarding the objective of the march; yet, for all that, the
Boers knew when it had started, indeed they declared that a week
before the event, the Mafeking besiegers had heard of the project,
and were firmly convinced of their ability to cut off the party at
Roodoo’s Rand, or failing that, to smash it up at a point nearer its
destination.

The Imperial Horse quietly encamped at Dronfield in order to
excite as little suspicion as possible, then followed M Battery
R.H.A., under Major Jackson, and two “pom-poms” under Captain
Robinson. Meanwhile some of the Imperial Yeomanry and Kimberley
Volunteers sprayed out over the region of Barkly West
and Spitzkop, in order to clear the way for the advancing column.
At Dronfield also the transport work was carried on, fifty-five
waggons being loaded by Major Weil and Sir John Willoughby,
both zealous officers, who were full of keenness in the undertaking;
while the De Beers community, whose ardour in Imperial
matters was proved, continued to throw themselves heart and soul
into the great scheme. Twenty waggons contained stores; five,
medical comforts; and the rest were loaded with the wherewithal to
feed 1100 men and 1200 horses.

At Barkley West was Colonel Mahon, with Colonel Rhodes as
intelligence officer. Major Baden-Powell, Scots Guards, the brother
of the hero of Mafeking; Captain Bell-Smythe, the brigade major;
Prince Alexander of Teck, Sir John Willoughby, Major Maurice
Gifford—the one-armed soldier of Matabele fame—were also among
the select number, whose good fortune it was to engage in the exciting
enterprise.

The column slowly moved out on a nine miles’ march to Greefputs,
which was, so to speak, the official starting-point—a grand
force composed of some of the smartest men of the colony and in the
pink of condition!

From the latter place to Spitzkop, a distance of nineteen miles,
the column moved on the morning of the 5th of May. About
mid-day the troops had intended to advance, but a rumour of Boers
in the distance arrested their progress. On the east, ten miles off,
could be heard the knocking of General Hunter’s guns and some
Boerish retorts, and somewhere, in kopjes in the vicinity, were rebels
or Dutchmen—at least so it was said, but after a brisk search the
road was reported clear, and the march proceeded, through the
blistering sunshine, over the scorching western plains to a place
called Warwick’s Store, and from thence, after a halt for refresh[Pg 120]ment,
on to Gunning Store, a total distance of thirty-five miles.
As may be imagined the cool of the moon-blue night was refreshing
to the toasted wanderers, and still more refreshing was the capture
of two waggon-loads of rebels and their Mausers. Time was not
wasted for much slumber or much breakfasting, and by 6 A.M. on the
6th the column was proceeding on its way towards Espach Drift on
the left bank of the Harts River. The nine miles’ journey was accomplished
by 9.30, where the column outspanned till 2.30. At that
hour they started to complete their twenty miles in the sunshine,
which landed them at Banks Drift—a deep drift where watering
the horses was no easy matter. In this locality, called Greefdale
Store, wood was scarce, but still the troops were within stone’s throw
of food, and were able to supplement the scanty rations which had
been cut down to the smallest possible figure. The daily allowance
was not sumptuous. A great deal of valour and cheeriness had to
be sustained on ½ lb. of meat, ¾ lb. of biscuit, 2 oz. of sugar, ⅓ oz. of
coffee, and ⅙ oz. of tea. When fresh meat could be captured a
change of diet was seized as a relief, and loot from rebels helped to
fill the growing vacuum. In certain localities fowls and bread were
purchasable. In others beer made a welcome variety to the daily
quantum of grog—a tot of rum or lime juice—but really substantial
meals were few and far between.

An unfortunate occurrence blighted the day’s proceedings. Major
Baden-Powell, who, full of rejoicing, was going to the rescue of
his brother, met with a nasty accident. His horse in crossing the
deep sand of the veldt bungled, and the Major sustained injuries
which made him unconscious for some hours. Happily he recovered
with the elasticity of his race, and there was no fear that Colonel
Baden-Powell’s hope, expressed in December,[5] would fail to be
gratified.

From Greefdale, on the 7th, the column marched to Muchadin,
moving on the right bank of Harts River. Nothing eventful
occurred, and the rest of the twenty miles was traversed by 5 P.M.
They were now some miles to west of Taungs. This region was
found to be evacuated by the Dutchmen, though remains of their
recent occupation were evident. The railway station was taken
possession of by Major Mullins and a squadron of the Imperial
Light Horse. Telegrams were found giving valuable insight into
the Dutch moves, and showing that the Boers were lying in wait
near Pudimoe, the place—encrusted with menacing rows of kopjes—that
the column was about to approach on the morrow.

Next day the column was on the move earlier than usual.
Before dawn all were astir, and the distance from Taungs to Pudimoe,
twelve miles, was covered by 8.30 A.M. The Boers were invisible.[Pg 121]
They were ensconced somewhere, with intent to pounce,
it was certain, but Colonel Mahon determined, if possible, to avoid
imbroglio till the finish. At 10 the troops were moving on to a place
called Dry Harts Siding, which was reached at noon. But there
was little rest, for on this day twenty-eight miles were covered, ten
miles being marched in the cool of the evening. At 9 P.M. under
the blinking stars, they outspanned at a place called Brussels Farm,
where food—hot food, ardently desired and eagerly stowed away—was
plentiful.

LIEUT.-COLONEL BRYAN T. MAHON, D.S.O.


Commander of the Mafeking Relief Force

The next morning the force was on its way to Vryburg, doing
eight miles before 9 A.M. They took up the thread of their travels
at noon, marched another thirteen miles, and found themselves by
tea-time at the desired and welcome haven of rest. The stores were
at once invaded, and creature comforts were purchased at heavy
rates. The British were received with some show of enthusiasm.
In the little white town margined with aromatic, emerald-leafed
pepper trees banners waved and Union Jacks fluttered, and passers-by
came in for a handshake with men of their own kind, who invited
them to “pot-luck.” Some of a commando that had been lurking
in the vicinity of Pudimoe now trickled in and surrendered; other
members of the Dutch conspiracy turned informer, while the loyal
British subjects, who had declined to rebel to order of the Boers,
poured out their experiences. One of them declared that during
the Boer reign in the town British ladies who had remained there
were not permitted to walk on the causeway, a regulation that in
the Transvaal had previously been confined to Kaffirs! In other
respects, beyond despoiling the police camp and the former Bechuanaland
Residency, the Boers had done little harm.

A leaf from the diary of a member of the Scots Fusiliers describes
this halt in a town which was somewhat Janus-faced in its loyalty:—

“9th May.—I awoke much refreshed by my good night’s rest. 5.30 A.M.—On
the march. The ground being densely shrubby, many halts have to be made
to allow the scouts to reconnoitre the front. 10 A.M.—Roodepoort. We are
now nine miles from Vryburg. Water and rations are, as usual, scarce.
11 A.M.—‘Halloa! what the deuce is this?’ A gaily decorated carriage with
three pretty maidens! ‘Well, I never! what can they want!’ Oh, thank
you, as they gracefully throw us some loaves of lovely white bread, and with
the most charming of smiles welcome us to Vryburg. ‘Bravo,’ my bonny
lassies! had it not been for my uncouth apparel and bristly whiskers, ‘a kiss,’
I should have vaunted you. 12 noon.—So the Boers have fled from Vryburg!
What an infernal pack of cowards, and no mistake! All the better for us;
the less opposition the sooner at our journey’s end. 2 P.M.—We continue the
march. 5 P.M.—Vryburg. An enthusiastic crowd of supposed loyalists greet
our arrival with cheers. Somehow their welcome is not at all appreciated.
Most of them are Dutch, and, considering the Boers have been amongst them
until two days ago, we fail to see what loyalty they could have established for
us in so short a time. 7 P.M.—On outpost; an exceedingly cold night.”

[Pg 122]

But whatever the sentiments of the people, there was decent food
and a brief chance of comfortably partaking of it, and there was a
sigh when the enjoyable time came to an end, and Vryburg, with its
apology for civilisation, its costly meals and inferior cigars, so highly
appreciated in those days of sparse comfort, had to be left behind.
Farewell drinks—beer, gin and lime-juice, green chartreuse, tea—were
disposed of, and then from five till midnight the steady march
onwards was pursued. The conditions of the march, if nothing worse,
were uncomfortable. No man dared betray his presence with the
whiff of a cigar; and after the sun-scorchings of the baking African
day, the searching, chill air of the moonlit veldt nipped the bones
and filled the frame with aguish apprehensions. So cold were the
nights that some declared they had to sleep walking up and down
to save themselves from being frozen. Still, through it all, every
member of the gallant band remembered the glorious object of his
mission, and, when inclined to growl, packed away personal irritations
and meditated on the number of hours which would elapse
before London would be ringing with the news of the great relief.
Every soul of this goodly company was swelling with pride and
satisfaction at having the good luck to be among those chosen for
the spirited exploit, and it was this pride, this almost heroic afflatus,
which served to cast into insignificance the thousand and one inconveniences,
trying to constitution and to temper, which were involved
in this momentous if fatiguing march. It is true, bullet and
shell were as yet only in the near future, but the aggravations of
these, as all men agreed, were not to be compared with the sustained
fret of marching under unrelenting sunshine, sleeping in violent
chills, eating irresponsive biscuit, tackling “bully” without the
assistance of a hatchet as a mincer; and enduring through all a
parching thirst, a perpetual craving for water, which, when found,
bred a loathly suspicion of the imps of enteric and dysentery that
might lurk therein. As Mr. Stuart of the Morning Post declared:
“To go through ten or a dozen of our days uncomplainingly
was a higher test of manhood than to fight, howsoever gallantly.
To stand to arms an hour before sunrise, possibly to march
for hours without a cup of coffee in the empty stomach, possibly
to do patrol or picket as soon as the outspan place was selected,
to return barely in time for a wad of stringy beef and some chunks
of biscuit, to march again across the sand or over lumpy grass,
so tired that at every halt they lay at their horses’ feet dozing
till the unwelcome ‘Stand to your horses’ was called, to go to
bed without fire, without the last sleepy pipe: that was often what
Mahon’s men called a day.”

It is well to emphasise what may be called the greys and drabs
and neutral tints that go to the making up of a complete picture[Pg 123]
of heroism; it is imperative to appreciate the superb nuances
which in their very retirement and unostentatious inconspicuousness
made the background to now immemorial scenes in our nation’s
history. There are so many who have contributed their tiny inch
of fine neutral tint, their little all of patience and self-abnegation
to make up this background—infinitesimal atoms in the great
machinery, whose names and histories are enveloped in the vast
dust bosom of the veldt, yet who, unknown and unsung, have contributed
the “mickle” which has made the “muckle” belonging
to the Empire. The ruminations of a soldier, who, rolled up in
his overcoat, was struggling to sleep, shows the pathetic side of the
brilliant undertaking: “Horses and mules are dropping down from
sheer exhaustion, unfit for further service. They are left on the
veldt a prey to the hungry vultures…. I shudder as I inwardly
apply the case to myself, how perhaps in years to come, when of
no more use to my country, I am left, like those poor creatures, to
the mercy of an ungrateful world, or, worse still, thrown as a pauper
into some home of destitution.”

On the 11th they were early astir in the dewy air of the morning,
moving across open country to Majana Mabili, which was reached
at 7.30 A.M., and on from this place after tea, on and on for eleven
miles, till the stars began to shimmer, and moon to light the open
veldt. The night was spent at a spot known as the “Hill without
Water,” a name sufficiently inhospitable and repellent.

Nearly the whole of the 12th was spent in marching, with
short periods for rest, from Jacobspan to Setlagoli, the latter part
of the way over infamous roads, drifts, and stretches of sand, ledged
with limestone and other impediments disastrous to cattle and to
the tempers of their owners. However, the reception in Setlagoli
compensated for many discomforts, for at the hotel, the proprietor
of which was a Scotsman, there was fat fare and “a true Scots
welcome,” which in other words means that the company regaled
themselves at the expense of mine host, who refused to accept any
equivalent for his hospitality! During the day some sad scenes had
occurred, scenes so pathetic that they touched the hearts of the rank
and file in the pursuance of their duty. One of them said, “Some
Dutch farmers who had been brought in by our scouts as suspects,
were followed by their wives and children. Undoubtedly the poor
women thought that after examination by the chief officer they
would be allowed to return with them. As it was, however, we had
some very clever detectives with us, who unfortunately caused them
to be handed over to the guard as prisoners. The women in their
extreme anguish at seeing their husbands about to be separated from
them, rushed in amongst us, flung their arms around their necks, and
refused to leave them. The scene that followed was a pitiful one,[Pg 124]
and not until the convoy had gone some distance on its way did
their heart-rending cries cease to be heard.”

On Sunday the 13th of May the plot began to thicken. Colonel
Mahon, as we are aware, had been reserving himself, knowing
that the nearer he came to his destination, the more certain was
he of repeated tussles with the enemy. Native scouts now informed
him the Dutchmen were assembling at Maribogo, hanging
round Kraaipan Siding, and lurking in their hundreds in the frowning
kopjes that fringed the nek near Koodoo’s Rand. Precautions
were taken, and all remembered the Mafeking besiegers had
bragged of their intention to cut off the party at Koodoo’s Rand.
The Light Horse, in very extended columns of squadrons, provided
the advance and the scouts, and the transport moved in
five parallel columns. Nothing as yet was seen of the Boers, and
the troops reached a point nine miles off, called Brodie’s Farm, in
safety. Here they watered their horses, and rested till the early
afternoon. Here they were joined by an officer who had ridden
from Colonel Plumer’s force, which, acting on information received,
had by then reached Canea. Three questions were forwarded from
Colonel Plumer. First, he wished to know the number of Colonel
Mahon’s men; second, his guns; third, the amount of his supplies.
It became necessary to concoct a reply which should defeat the
curiosity of the Boers, and to that end Colonel Mahon and Colonel
Rhodes put their astute heads together, with the result that for the
number of men they answered, The Naval and Military Club multiplied
by ten (94 Piccadilly). The number of guns was described as
The number of brothers in the Ward family (six); and the amount of
supplies was represented by The C.O., 9th Lancers (Small, Little).
It was now decided that both Colonels—the relieving officers—should
join hands at Jan Massibi’s, Colonel Mahon’s plan being to make a
detour to the north-west of his route and thus surprise the enemy,
who imagined he would come straight by way of Wright’s Farm.

Now came a critical moment. The column moved out from
Brodie’s Farm in the afternoon, and had scarcely started before
they became aware that Boers were slinking everywhere, behind
trees, in the scrub, in the dried grass of the veldt. They had
been so admirably concealed that the Imperial Light Horse scouts
had ridden beyond them. Now, however, when they began to blaze
away with rifles from the scrub, the scouts turned upon them,
caught them in the rear, while in front they were greeted with such
warm volleys that they made for their horses, which had been deftly
hidden in the bush. Others of their number strove to get a chance
of enfilading the convoy, which was promptly diverted from its
course to the left, while the guns galloped to the rescue, and took
up a position that commanded the open ground to the right,[Pg 125]
and here blazed away, pouring cascades of shrapnel whenever the
smoke from the Dutchmen’s Mausers gave them a clue to the
whereabouts of the hostile weapons, and a chance to put in some
execution. Meanwhile, the Boers were firing fast and furious
at the gunners, and awaiting reinforcements which were spurring
across the far distance. The Imperial Light Horse, dashing
as ever, were pouring volleys into the enemy, and sweeping
them towards the British 12-pounders, and there was a good
half-hour’s brisk interchange of aggressions, much of the fighting
being done on foot and at fairly close quarters. The pom-poms
also rapped out a warning tune, and the smart Light Horse, now
riding, now dismounted, hunted the foe across the ochreous grass of
the veldt, keeping him perpetually on the run, or “winging” him
so that he could run no more. Meanwhile Colonel King, on the
right rear with his Kimberley men, assisted in the fight, and finally
after much volleying and sniping the Dutchmen took themselves off.
But the brilliant skirmish was not without its penalties, for twenty-one
men were wounded, while six—including a native driver who
had been knocked from his waggon in the course of the fray—were
killed. Major Mullins of the Light Horse was seriously injured in
the spine, an unlucky incident, following, as it did, on the loss to the
gallant regiment of Major Wools Sampson and Major Doveton.
Corporal Davis of A Squadron was hit, but managed even afterwards
to do considerable damage among the Boers. Mr. Hands,
the correspondent of the Daily Mail, sustained a compound fracture
of the thigh, and Major Baden-Powell narrowly escaped, so narrowly,
indeed, that his watch was stopped and a whistle twisted in his
pocket by the force of the bullet. Captain Mullins, Kimberley
Mounted Corps, was also injured.

After their exhilarating and successful conflict it was decided
that the force should bivouac where they were, the country to the
north having been scouted and reported free of the enemy. It was
said also to be devoid of water. No water could be found, and food
was scanty, but the troops after their satisfactory rout of the Boers
went to sleep in the moonlight full, if of nothing else, of contentment!

With the passage of every hour precautions became more necessary,
for the Boers might now be expected to crop up from any
quarter. At 6 A.M. the troops started, the men riding six yards
apart from each other, for Buck Reef Farm, a distance of five
miles. A drift had to be negotiated, and water from the bed of the
River Maretsani was dug up, and, richly yellow though it was,
enjoyed. It was necessary to make the most of this refreshing if
suspicious draught, for now the march onwards promised to be
almost entirely waterless, with the enemy possibly mounting guard
over any pools which might present themselves.[Pg 126]

Through the long dull afternoon they trailed upwards over a
hill for eight long miles, and then on, for another eight, ploughing
the sand and wearily craving for water. Man and beast were united
in the common want, the absorbing yearning. Day passed into
twilight and dusk broke into moonbeams; then, jaded and travel-sore,
they outspanned for a brief rest.

At 1 A.M. on the 15th they were again on the move, and by
3 A.M. were making their way over the plains of sand and tussocky
grass towards the one haven of their desire, Jan Massibi’s—every
nerve and muscle strained to meet Colonel Plumer and his small
force to time, to get to the trysting-place with celerity and secrecy
which should outwit the Boers, and prevent them driving a wedge
between the two relief columns that had endured so much to arrive
at a now almost achieved end! So, on and on, half asleep, half
awake, famished, dry, aching, dull but not desponding, they went,
halting often, napping sometimes, mounting again and pursuing
their way towards that ever-to-be-desired point in the west where
Plumer was thought to be. And sure enough there they found
him! The day dawned, the morning brightened, and in the
distance, light—a glow of fires—was seen. Between the relievers
and the glare was a native stadt, and nearer still a river. Here
the scouts in advance came on other scouts, eyed them suspiciously,
eagerly, delightedly. They were Plumer’s scouts, and the joy of
the encounter amply compensated for the pains of all who had
covered during the past two days twenty-eight miserable miles in
miserable condition. All the weariness of the night was forgotten,
all the discomforts set aside. The horses galloped to the Molopo
brink like wild creatures, drinking furiously; and the men, too,
milder in their transport, greeted the streak of glittering stream
with unfeigned rejoicing.

It must here be noted that while the column was moving from
Buck Reef Farm to Jan Massibi’s, Colonel Plumer’s force was
approaching the same point from the north, and beautifully, like the
grooves of a Chinese puzzle, the two relief parties met together
about 5 A.M. Colonel Plumer was accompanied by his regiment of
Rhodesians, some 350 of them, who for five months, under exceptional
difficulties of climate and conditions, had been untiring in
their efforts to hold back the enemy in their attempt to invade
Rhodesia via Tuli, and in their determination to retain the
Bulawayo Railway for over 200 miles south of the Rhodesian
border in British hands. This diminutive force, though it had
achieved so much, had been powerless for want of guns to achieve
still more. Colonel Plumer, in addition to Colonel Spreckley
and others who had been fighting with him, was accompanied now,
by a battery of Canadian Artillery, under Major Hudon (an officer[Pg 127]
whose delicate French accent gave a refining touch to the British
tongue), and some 200 Queenslanders. How Colonel Plumer came
into possession of the valuable addition to his troops must be described.
It may be remembered that a force called the Rhodesian
Field Force, numbering some 5000 men and 7000 horses, under the
command of Lieutenant-General Sir Frederick Carrington, was
originated to provide against the contingency of an attack on Rhodesia
from the south, and to avert any plan on the part of the Boers to
migrate or escape to the north. It was composed mainly of Colonial
troops, and placed in charge of a general whose unequalled experience
of the country through which he was travelling and fighting
made him unusually valuable. Besides Colonials were some 1100
Yeomanry, a company of the Lancashire, Belfast and Dublin’s,
and Lord Dunraven’s Sharpshooters.

Map Showing the Route for the Relief of Mafeking from the North.

While Sir Frederick Carrington was at Capetown he, knowing
that Colonel Plumer’s force was weak in artillery, devised a scheme[Pg 128]
for helping him. He made an arrangement with Mr. Zeederberg—the
well-known Rhodesian coach-owner and a first-rate type of the
Colonial Dutchman—by which the guns before named and escort
were to be conveyed by mail coaches to the Rhodesian column.
Mr. Zeederberg accompanied the General to Beira, and there telegraphed
to Rhodesia suspending the ordinary mail service (conveying
passengers and mails from Salisbury and Bulawayo), and diverting
the mules to the Marandellas-Bulawayo Road. That done, no sooner
had the troops steamed from Beira to Marandellas than the men
were transferred to the stage-coaches and the mules were hitched to
the guns, and thus the force was got to Bulawayo twenty days
earlier than they would have done if moved in the ordinary manner.

The active way in which the Colonials threw themselves into the
movement deserves consideration. On the 13th of April C Battery
of the Royal Canadian Artillery, under Major Hudon, were ordered
to proceed via the Cape to Beira, there to join General Sir Frederick
Carrington’s force. They reached their destination on the 22nd,
and entrained for Marandellas, where the General had established
his base camp. After a long and trying journey in open trucks,
scorched by sun, burnt by sparks from the engine, agued by night
chills, and jolted on one of what is called the worst railways in the
world, they reached their destination on the 26th. Colonel Plumer
was known to be helpless without artillery, and therefore no time was
to be lost, as every haste was necessary to equip that officer for the
approaching operations.

Accordingly the “Salisbury to Bulawayo” resources were utilised
as has been described, and two guns left Marandellas on the
30th of April, followed on May the 1st and 2nd by others, which
were carried a distance of over 300 miles to Bulawayo by the 6th.
From Bulawayo they were forwarded to Ootsi, where the rail was
found to be destroyed, and consequently the remaining sixty miles
to Safeteli were accomplished by a forced march. Colonel Plumer
was joined by the Colonials on the 14th, and at once proceeded to
meet Colonel Mahon at Jan Massibi’s. A more ingenious synchronal
achievement can scarcely be imagined.

LIEUT.-COLONEL PLUMER


Photo by Bassano, London

The meeting of Colonel Mahon and Colonel Plumer was most
cordial, and many old chums and acquaintances forgathered and
cheerily exchanged reminiscences over their morning coffee. Here,
in this remote corner of South Africa, near the brown thatched
cottages of Jan Massibi’s staadt, was gathered around in the sunlight
a stalwart company of picked men whose equal could scarcely
be discovered in any part of the world. Men of breeding and distinction;
men in the prime of life, brawny and tough and smart; men
intellectual, courageous to daredevilry, and withal full of resource.
Here, on the Kimberley side, were warriors old and tried—Colonel[Pg 129]
King, who had been General Hunter’s aide-de-camp in Ladysmith;
Colonel Peakman, the hero of many Kimberley fights; Major Karri
Davies and dashing Colonel Edwards; popular Colonel Rhodes the
pioneer; and the ever-jovial Dr. Davies of the Light Horse. There
were Prince Alexander of Teck, a youthful veteran by now; Major
the Hon. Maurice Gifford, a soldier to the finger-nails; Captain
Bell-Smythe, the energetic brigade-major; and many more, all
chivalrous and hardy men of mark.

On the Rhodesian side were other grand specimens of British
manhood. There was first the colonel—bronzed, dark-eyed,
meditative—a man who without display had skirmished his way
along the border-side from Tuli downwards, keeping the Boers in
eternal suspense and so perpetually employed that they were unable
to gain breathing time to concentrate their energies on Mafeking.
Next came Colonel White, one of the bulwarks of Rhodesia; an
adventurous spirit of the first order, an unerring shot, and, like
most of his comrades, a chip of the old British block that furnished
the material of the Light Brigade. There were Colonel Spreckley,
a seasoned and notable fighter, alas! engaging in almost his last
exploit, and Colonel Bodle of the British South Africa Police, a
tower of strength, with vast experience of the western frontier of
the Transvaal, and the necessary “slimness”—cultivated in a
practical school—without which the handling of live eels like the
Boers was impossible. There were Major Bird, another gallant and
indefatigable officer; Lieutenant Harland, bright, blue-eyed, and
buoyant, a typical British soldier; and Lieutenant Smitheman, valiant
as Mettus Curtius and acute as a weazel—the first officer who had
been successful in worming himself into Mafeking and out again!

Colonel Mahon’s force had been travelling at the rate of twenty-two
miles a day over sandy tracks and waterless deserts, and
skirmishing by the way. They were, by now, very sun-baked and
weary, but jovial beyond measure. In the evening camp-fires were
lighted and goodly fare roasted, the flesh of captured oxen coming in
handy to appease the appetite of the voracious travellers. It was a
grand night of rest and plenty and cheeriness at the thought of work
accomplished, and of plans which promised to end in triumph over
the enemy. A spirit of camaraderie prevailed. All alike were
tingling with the glow of ambition which hatches heroes. It was
an unique company—an inter-British-national throng, and vastly
interesting in its heterogeneous characteristics. The Bushmen were
perhaps the most curious and refreshing type of the Imperial
Brotherhood. Every one with an appreciation for the genuine
was swift to pronounce them delightful fellows, sound in wind
and limb, full of go, spirited and keen for work of any kind that
came to hand. In addition to this they were friendly and hospitable,[Pg 130]
would share their last chunk of “bully” with any one who was
suffering from a vacuum, and had the “nous” to forage for themselves
and find their way about in the veldt in a manner that excited
as much admiration as surprise. They could ride too. They sat a
buckjumper as a child sits a swing, and seemed to be horsemasters
as it were by instinct. Full to overflowing with loyalty, they
talked of home and Queen as though they had been born on the
steps of Buckingham Palace. They were democratic withal. Their
loyalty was to the superb, the estimable, and the Queen to them
was the sample of the ideal womanhood, holding them enslaved by
the power that is the firmest of all powers—the hair-line of respect.

To return to our “moutons” and to the sheep-pen in the heart
of the veldt. At last dawned the memorable 16th—the ever-to-be-remembered
morning when Mafeking, like a little white clothes-drying
yard, came to be seen in the distance. All along the north
bank of the Molopo for nine miles had marched the two columns,
Colonel Plumer’s Brigade leading, followed by Colonel Edwards
and the Second Brigade, till at last, in the far grey plain, the
little hamlet that had been the subject of so much persecution
and so much British anxiety, came in sight.

Then all were prepared for the worst or for the best. They
lunched frugally, cooled themselves with draughts from the clear
river, and then … then the enemy made his last, his expiring
effort. He began to blaze with his rifles on the extreme left, and
continued so to blaze till volley followed volley. Off went the Light
Horse buoyant and brisk towards the north, followed by Colonel
King and his redoubtable “Kimburlians,” who started to frustrate
any attempt at a rear attack. But this attempt not being made he
joined forces with the Light Horse, with whom were M Battery
and the pom-poms.

Meanwhile the Boers in front began to ply their guns “for all
they were worth,” shifting their pieces so as to enfilade the right
of the British, thinking on that flank to make a more favourable
impression. But on both fronts some Dutchmen were collected, and
those on the left were engaged by the Light Horse and a section
of M Battery, while on the right Colonel Plumer’s Maxim-Nordenfeldt
with the Battery of the Canadians did excellent execution.
Two squadrons of Rhodesians advanced from the south across
the river, to watch Boer reinforcements which hovered in the
distance.

The Boers now made an effort to attack the convoy, which had
been diverted to the left; but here the Dutchmen had the astute
Colonel Peakman to deal with. This officer promptly set his guns
to work, and pounded them with such precision and warmth that
they were glad enough to fall back on their main body. Then the[Pg 131]
Canadians assailed them, and later Captain Montmorency with his
Maxim-Nordenfeldt silenced the big Boer gun. So effective was
the action of the artillery that about 3 P.M. the Boers were beginning
to show signs of removal. Meanwhile the Light Horse
and the Kimberley troops were pushing boldly on, and by four
o’clock the besiegers were on the run, their scurrying silhouettes dotting
for a moment or two the skyline and then vanishing into space!

On the right fighting still lingered on, the enemy trying hard
to hold their ground, the Canadians trying equally hard to dislodge
them from a position before Mafeking known as the White House.
There was some tough work here, and presently M Battery from
3600 yards north of the house came to the assistance of the
Canadians. Finally the Fusiliers and the Queenslanders with
fixed bayonets, and a rush and roar, assailed the enemy’s last
position, and the door to Mafeking was opened! Off scrambled
the remnant of the Boer hordes, leaving behind them ammunition
and many other things grateful to the hearts of the conquerors.

For the first time the enemy found themselves outmatched in
the way of guns as in the way of wits. Gloating, they had been
circling round Mafeking, waiting with confidence for an exhausted
force. They found instead a force that had marched warily, and
reserved itself, and came with full rush upon them; a force that had
been concentrating its energies to give them as much fighting as they
cared for. The whole route was now purged of Boers, and when
at dusk the column outspanned it was but for a brief hour or two.
Without warning, Colonel Mahon inspanned again, determining to
take advantage of the moonlight and the clear road; in a very short
time he was wending his way towards the great destination. At four
o’clock on the morning of the 17th his mission was accomplished!

The losses were many, for the fighting, during the short time it
lasted, was fierce and sustained; and the Boer force numbered some
2000, while the British columns amounted to about 1500. There
were over sixty killed and wounded:—

Lieutenant Edwin Harland, Hampshire Regiment—commanding C Squadron
Rhodesian Regiment, was killed. The following were wounded: 2nd Royal
West Surrey Regiment—Major W. D. Bird, severe. British South Africa
Police—Lieutenant Richard Sherman Godley, slight. Rhodesian Regiment—Lieutenant
John Alexander Forbes, slight. Royal Horse Artillery—Lieutenant
N. M. Gray, severe. Kimberley Mounted Corps—Captain C. P. Fisher, slight.
Imperial Light Horse—Lieutenant Hew Campbell Ross, slight.

Gallant young Harland was generally regretted. He had taken
the place of Captain Maclaren when that officer was wounded in the
attempt to rescue Mafeking on the 31st, and had displayed such
first-rate talents, both as soldier and scout, that he had earned for
himself the title of “Baden-Powell the Second.[Pg 132]”

The following table describes the forces engaged in the Relief:—

Mafeking.—Protectorate Regiment (800), Cape Mounted Police, British
South Africa Company’s Mounted Police, Bechuanaland Rifles—1500 men.
Colonel Plumer’s Force.—Rhodesia Regiment, Southern Rhodesia Volunteers,
Bechuanaland Border Police, A Detachment of Canadian Artillery.
Colonel Mahon’s Flying Column.—100 men from Barton’s Frontier
Brigade, 200 Queenslanders (Bushmen). Kimberley Mounted Corps.—Diamond
Fields Horse, Kimberley Light Horse, Cape Police, Imperial Light
Horse, Diamond Fields Artillery, M Battery Royal Horse Artillery—1200 men.

ON THE WESTERN FRONTIER—THE INVASION OF THE
TRANSVAAL VIA CHRISTIANA.

At the same time, on the Western Frontier, affairs were progressing
in accord with Lord Roberts’s strategical programme. Sir
Charles Warren had arrived to take up his new post as military
governor of Griqualand West, and General Hunter was engaged
in a species of overture to cover the advance of the Flying Column
which had started on the 5th. Without opposition he effected the
passage of the Vaal River at Windsorton. There was great
satisfaction to feel that British shells were at last exploding in
Transvaal territory, and that the voice of the new gun, “Bobs,”
was spreading devastation far and wide. Three Boer laagers
were dispersed, and on the 4th of May the new weapon caused
considerable commotion within the Republican border. Ambulances
were seen performing their melancholy duty for some time
after the morning shelling had ceased. On the 5th Barton’s
Brigade encountered 2000 and more of the enemy some two miles
north of Rooidam. The Dutchmen held a hilly and jungly position
extending over four miles, but from their beloved kopjes they were
routed time after time, and with considerable loss, by the magnificent
dash of the troops, who carried one ridge after another with
splendid energy and daring. The Yeomanry under Colonel
Meyrick especially distinguished themselves, their courage and
coolness under fire being remarkable. They not only engaged
the enemy at very close quarters, but chased them for miles.
General Hunter, having settled the Dutchmen, after a contest of
some eight hours’ duration, joined hands with the British force
under General Paget at Warrenton.

Fourteen Streams was now occupied without opposition, the
enemy having found the attentions of the artillery in the direction
of the left bank of the Vaal far too pressing for his liking. At sight
of the approach of the 6th and half the 5th Brigades of infantry the
Boers scampered, leaving behind them in the trenches saddles,
ammunition, and wardrobes. A British camp was formed at
Fourteen Streams—C Company of the Munster Fusiliers, under[Pg 133]
Lieutenant Caning, having been the first to cross the river during
the night. These were followed at dawn by the rest of the troops.
The river was low, and the Engineers set to work to construct a
pontoon bridge for heavy traffic, and to mend the old railway bridge
and make it fit for immediate use.

The following casualties took place during the advance: Captain
Lovett, 1st Royal Welsh Fusiliers, died from wounds, and Captain
MacMahon, 2nd Royal Fusiliers, was wounded.

The ten days’ march to Vryburg, which was reached on the
24th of May, was comparatively uneventful, but the Yeomanry did
excellent work, as the following report of a Glasgow yeoman serves
to show:—“We were most of the time on half-rations, and every
morning were up before 2 A.M.… The first day we left the
camp at Warrenton we crossed the Vaal River, where the railway
bridge was blown up. They have now got a temporary one
made, which they completed two days after we left…. On the
other side we joined the Union Brigade; Colonel Hart (Barton),
I think, is commander of it. We had two batteries of artillery
with us, and some other brigade joined us next day, and we were
supposed to be about 12,000 strong under General Sir A. Hunter.
They do not tell you whether you are going to fight or on a day’s
march, the regulars say; but we all expected one the day after we
left, as we were advised to make any personal arrangements we had
to make. Next day we moved off about 6.30. Nineteenth and
20th Companies were the scouts, and 17th and 18th the support. It
is rather exciting the first day you are out scouting, with ninety cartridges
in your bandolier and ten in your magazine, expecting to come
in contact with the Boers every minute. Some of their patrols were
seen two days before we left. On Wednesday morning we came in
sight of Christiana, which we took in great style. We galloped half
round it at half a mile distance in extended order, the Major and
Captain C—— galloping up to houses, putting the butts of their
rifles through the windows, and looking to see if the houses were
occupied. There were very few people there; 2000 Boers had left
the day before. However, we came across two or three, who were
disarmed, and all the arms that were got in the town were broken up.
We commandeered a lot of cattle, sheep, and horses, left a company
of infantry in charge of the town, left again that night, and did about
other six miles’ march towards Toungs. We saw about a hundred
Boers two days later, but they did not let us get near them. We
are the only cavalry attached to the column, so that we have to do
all the scouting, front and rear guards. It is quite a sight to see a
column on the march. First scouts are out in front advancing in
line, about a hundred yards apart, then the supports, next a skirmishing
line of infantry, then two or three companies of them. After[Pg 134]
this long lines of transports, the artillery, droves of cattle and sheep,
then more infantry, and behind the rearguard. I have only washed
once since I left Warrenton, now twelve days ago, and then I had
no soap, and had to dry my face with my handkerchief. We had to
leave all our stuff behind us so as to march as light as possible. These
last two days we have been getting bread, as they have now got the
railway put right up this length. We were only getting two hard
biscuits per day, coffee in the morning and tea at night, pretty often
without any sugar, and sometimes we couldn’t manage to get sticks
to make a fire. The beer is 4s. per bottle. The Boers have commandeered
everything nearly, and the folks here were glad to see
us. The enemy cleared out of here fourteen days ago.”

Space does not admit of a detailed account of this excellent movement,
which was originated in support of the Mafeking Relief
Column, and had for a double object the protection of Mahon’s
force and the invasion of the Transvaal from the west.

To appreciate the turn of wheel within wheel of Lord Roberts’s
strategic machinery it is necessary to give a glance at the map of
the Transvaal. It will then be seen that synchronously with the
occupation of Christiana by General Sir Archibald Hunter on the
16th and the Relief of Mafeking by Colonels Mahon and Plumer,
we find Lord Methuen moving towards Hoopstad, Lord Roberts
holding Kroonstad, General Ian Hamilton pushing up towards
Lindley and Heilbron, and farther east Generals Clery and Dundonald
advancing towards Ingogo and Laing’s Nek respectively!

THE RELIEF.

To return to Mafeking. On the day that Colonel Mahon and
Colonel Plumer joined hands near Jan Massibi’s thatched village,
news leaked in that the long-talked-of relief was verily at hand.
They had heard this kind of thing before, and their despair lest
the Boers should attack the town to obtain the release of Eloff was
scarcely allayed. However, on the 16th, dust was espied in the
distance, and there was a rush to the roofs of the houses to ascertain
whether that dust was hostile or friendly. It was afterwards discovered
that it was the sign of the retiring enemy, and eventually
towards dusk it was announced that the Relief Column was really in
sight. The longing eyes of Mafeking looked out, and for the first
time saw their persecutors in full retreat, saw them begin to run, and
then, later, scudding for their lives, while their gratified ears, so tuned
to the sound of the vicious artillery of the foe, now heard the cheery
notes of the Canadian artillery, the pom-poms, and other pieces,
clearing the barricades that for so long had shut out the free air of[Pg 135]
day. In the late afternoon Major Karri Davies, who after the routing
of the Federals had never drawn rein till he reached Mafeking,
accompanied by some eight of the Imperial Light Horse, the Light
Horse that had been first in Ladysmith, marched into the town.
Surprise was intense! Then surprise thawed into warmth, and then
warmth grew to fever-heat. Rapture eventually reached boiling-point,
and the nine men, gaunt, worn, haggard with fatigue, were deafened
with cheers, and had not strength enough to do the handshaking.

Meanwhile, as we know, Colonel Mahon had outspanned. He
did this only to inspan again, and proceed by moonlight to the
town. He had followed the rule of South African strategy,—said
he was going to do one thing and did the other,—thus
outwitting the Boers, who having retired wearily, were gathering
themselves up to lunge at him, and intercept his entry so
soon as the dawn should break. But by four in the morning
of the 17th, while the chill dramatic moonbeams were yet bathing
the scene with strange mystery, Colonel Mahon and his merry
men—they were merrier than merry at the prospect of their
welcome—led by Major Baden-Powell, the brother of the hero
of the defence, approached the town. The news of the arrival
spread like wildfire. Immediately all was bustle, and bliss, and
gratulation. Men, women, and children beamed. Some wept;
some danced. The natives indulged in wild sounds, and showed
rows of dazzling teeth. Exuberance took amazing forms; stranger
wrung the hand of stranger, friends grasped and re-grasped: if
they had been foreigners they would have embraced! The large
hearts of the heroes within and the large hearts of the heroes from
without were throbbing in unison, bursting with satisfaction in
the accomplishment of great work in the cause of their country
and of their fellow-men. The ragged, battered, grimy, magnificent
throng was almost at a loss to express itself. Words lagged,
and even those forthcoming were blurred by a foggy haze in the
throat, while a strange mistiness crept over eyes that for seven
months had been bright with the fire of determination. But withal,
there was no emasculating abandonment to rapture of the hour.
There was no unbuckling of armour. At nine the serious work of
war began again. The united forces went out on a reconnaissance
in the direction of MacMullin’s farm, where the chief Dutch laager
was fixed, and then all the artillery, even to the grandfatherly “Lord
Nelson,” performed in concert in honour of the great occasion. Cascades
of shrapnel and little white balls of smoke danced and played
over the laager, and bombs burst with violent detonations, and then,
like magic, wreaths of dust began to rise and increase, and cloud the
distance. It was the Dutchmen scampering for dear life across the
veldt, their waggons and guns—all save one—rumbling into space.[Pg 136]
This one was abandoned in the hurried flight, the Boers having taken
the precaution to destroy the breech, but it was nevertheless captured
as a precious souvenir of times more pleasant in reminiscence than in
being. The forts were visited in turn, and at Game-Tree—that
dreadful thorn in the side of the garrison—the Union Jack went up
to a chorus of cheers. Finally, the place was devoured by fire, to
the satisfaction of those who had so long regarded it with apprehension
and hate. At MacMullin’s farm were found the Boer wounded,
deserted of their kind, who had scuttled with such alacrity that even
their still smoking breakfasts had been foregone. Lieutenant Currie
and his smart Cape Boys, and Major Baillie (4th Hussars), came on
one or two stragglers in the Boer laager, who wisely surrendered.
Snyman’s official correspondence was discovered, and from this much
valuable information was gleaned. From one bundle of papers the
garrison learned the pleasing intelligence that Kroonstadt had fallen;
from another, that Kruger was not best pleased with the old Commandant—indeed,
the President without palaver had inquired by
telegram whether his failure of the previous Saturday had been due
to drink! The rescue of Captain Maclaren (13th Hussars) from
the clutches of the enemy caused great satisfaction, and he was
borne off in triumph to the hospital, where he was comfortably
located. He was suffering still from the wounds sustained during
the fight on the 31st, one of which had been inflicted after he
was helpless by a Dutchman, who deliberately fired on him at a
distance of twenty yards, and subsequently robbed him of watch
and money!

By noon the reconnaissance was at an end,—the place was found
to be clear of the horrible girdle that for seven months had encompassed
it,—and then the Market Square became a scene of unrestrained
enthusiasm. The Town Guard got itself into position
ready to do honour to the warriors who had come through fire
and blood to release their fellow-countrymen, while every nook
and corner of the broken hamlet was filled with excited, cheering
folks—folks whose vocal cords seemed scarcely to have suffered
from scant fare and unceasing vigils, and who yelled as though
by sheer force of lung power they meant to swell their song of
jubilation to the four corners of the earth!

THE LAST ATTACK ON MAFEKING: B.S.A. POLICE ESCORTING BOER PRISONERS
TO THE GAOL


Drawing by H. M. Paget, from materials supplied by Major F. D. Baillie,
Special Correspondent of the Morning Post.

Perhaps the march past of the united relief columns was the
most unique and imposing ceremony ever performed within the
confines of such a “chicken-run.” Here, in this tiny compass, the
whole empire veritably met together—South Africans, Australians,
Canadians, English, Scots, and Irishmen, Indians, Cape Boys—all
following one another, unit after unit, like some quaint scenic
procession of the nations. There were the bronzed colonels—Baden-Powell,
and Mahon, and Plumer, now household names[Pg 137]
throughout the world—accompanied by their staffs, the élite of the
embattled array. There were the glorious 12-pounders—M Battery
of the Royal Horse Artillery, whose every limber looked dear to
the eyes that long had been strained in eagerness for their coming—and
their guardians, the helmeted band of staunch and sturdy gunners,
who carried the voice of Empire far and wide—there were the
plumed and mettlesome Colonials, very fighting-cocks at the sniff of
war—there was the lion rampant in the form of the Union Brigade
(the picked portions of it from the Royal Fusiliers, Royal Scots,
Royal Welsh Fusiliers, and Royal Irish Fusiliers), a right regal
company, the very sight of which in common times would have
caused the heart of Britons to throb, and which now sent the cup
of patriotic rapture brimming over. Cheers or tears? Shouts or
sobs? It was a “toss”-up which would supersede the other, and
amid the stupendous fracas even the dauntless hero of this unparalleled,
soul-stirring outburst turned aside that none should view
the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.

The painter, when he depicted Agamemnon in the hour of
sublime sacrifice, drew a veil over the features of the chief. He
judged the supreme moment of human exultation too sanctified for
common gaze. Even so must we draw the veil of silence over this
supreme moment in the life of the saviour of Mafeking … the
soundless epic is the more sonorous.

The parade over, addresses were presented and the usual formalities
gone through. The gratitude of the town for the relief—the
appreciation of the magnificent work done by Colonel Baden-Powell,
and the stupendous energy of the succouring forces, were
all dilated on and thanks returned. A hailstorm of cheers then
broke out—cheers for Queen and country, for Baden-Powell,
Mahon, Plumer, Colonel Rhodes, Major Karri Davies; in fact,
every one cheered every one else, for all were too deserving, too
heroic, to overlook the deserts and heroism of those who had
imperilled their lives over and over again to maintain the prestige
of their native land. So passed the day, and at night chums and
comrades gathered together and jested and laughed, and told yarns
of skirmish and sortie and surprise, till they sank to sleep in their
greatcoats and blankets, fairly worn out with their eleven days and
nights of boot and saddle.

On the 19th, the garrison assembled for a last, a solemn
function. A great thanksgiving and memorial service was held
at the cemetery, and all bade a last farewell to those who had
shared with them the tribulations of the siege without reaping the
harvest of honour their hands had sown.

At the close of the impressive ceremony three volleys were fired
over the noble dead who had given their lives to attain the great[Pg 138]
end, and then an effort was made to sing the National Anthem, but
the notes were quavering with the emotion which these hitherto
fearless men now feared might unman them.

Finally Colonel Baden-Powell—a little abruptly to cover the
touching nature of his farewell—addressed the garrison:—

“We have been a happy family during the siege. The time has now come
for breaking up. When we were first invested I said to you, ‘Sit tight and
shoot straight.’ The garrison has sat tight and shot straight, with the present
glorious result. Many nice things have been said about me at home, but it is
an easy thing to be the figurehead of a ship. The garrison has been the
rigging and sails of the good ship Mafeking, and has brought her safely through
her stormy cruise.”

He then thanked the ladies, beginning with the matron of the
hospital, whose pluck and devotion could not be sufficiently extolled.
Turning to the Protectorate Regiment, he said:—

“To you I need say nothing. Your roll of dead and wounded tells its own
tale.”

Shaking hands with Colonel Hore he thanked him for the
assistance he had given him, and to the artillery, under Major
Panzera and Lieutenant Daniel, he said:—

“You were armed with obsolete weapons, but you made up for these by
your cool shooting and the way you stuck to your guns.”

The colonel afterwards turned to the British South Africa
Police:—

“I need not repeat to you men the story of the little red fort on the hill,
which Cronje could not take.”

And to the Cape Police, under Captain Marsh, he addressed
himself as follows:—

“You have not been given an opportunity of doing anything dramatic, but
throughout the siege you have held one of the nastiest places in the town,
where the enemy were expected at any moment, and where you were always
under fire.”

The colonel next made some graceful remarks to the Town
Guard. He compared them to a walnut in a shell; saying that
people thought that they had but to break the shell to get at the
kernel. But the enemy had learnt better. They had got through
the husk and found they could get no hold on the kernel. In
conclusion, he announced that any civilians who wished to return to
their ordinary occupations immediately might do so. Those who
had none to return to, whose billets had been lost or businesses
ruined, would be permitted in the meantime to draw trench allowances
and to remain on duty in the inner defences.[Pg 139]

Major Goold Adams was then cordially thanked for all the
excellent work he had done as Town Commandant, after which the
Railway Division (under Captain Moore) and Lieutenant Layton
(who had received a commission for his splendid services) were
addressed:—

“I cannot thank you enough for what you have done. You have transformed
yourselves from railway-men to soldiers. Your work is not yet done,
because it will be your business to reopen communication and get in supplies.”

Mafeking Railway Station—The First Train arriving from the North
after the Relief. (Photo by D. Taylor, Mafeking.)

To the Bechuanaland Rifles Colonel Baden-Powell exclaimed:—

“Men, you have turned out trumps. With volunteers one knows that
they have been ably drilled, but there is no telling how they will fight. I have
been able to use you exactly as Regular troops, and I have been specially
pleased with your straight shooting. The other day, when the enemy occupied
the Protectorate Fort, they admitted that they were forced to surrender
by your straight shooting, under which they did not dare to show a hand
above the parapet.”

The chief delighted the juvenile Cadet Corps by giving them
their meed of praise for their conduct as soldiers, concluding with,
“I hope you will continue in the profession, and will do as well in
after life.”

He then turned to the outsiders, the Northern Relief Force
under Colonel Plumer, which had borne the brunt of the seven
months’ fighting, and expressed his regret that they had been[Pg 140]
too weak to relieve the town “off their own bat.” But he
eulogised the splendid work done in bad country and climate.
The Southern Force under Colonel Mahon were congratulated
on having made a march which would live in history. Their
chief was complimented on the magnificent body of men he commanded,
while the Imperial Light Horse, associated as it was with
memories of Ladysmith, Colonel Baden-Powell declared he was
especially pleased to see, as these would be able, in consequence
of their own experience, to sympathise with the people in Mafeking.

So the amazing defence of Mafeking was over! For seven
months the gallant little town had withstood every ingenious
device of the Boers, and in the end it had come off victorious.
The first shot was fired on the 16th of October, and from that
day the rumble of bombardment had been the accompaniment of
almost every hour between the rising and setting of the sun.
And now all was serene and still, and only the battered walls of
the once neat little hamlet told the terrible, the glorious tale of
British doggedness and British pluck.

Lord Roberts

Lord Kitchener

LORD ROBERTS AND HIS ARMY CROSSING THE VAAL RIVER


Drawing by R. M. Paxton, from a Sketch by W. B. Wollen, R.I.

HOW THE NEWS WAS RECEIVED BY THE BRITISH
EMPIRE.

For some time the ears of London had been pricked up in
anxious expectation. Lord Roberts had promised to relieve
Mafeking by the 18th of May, and the Field-Marshal
was known to be punctuality personified. All the town remained
in a state of suppressed excitement, little flags were
selling like wildfire, and big flags were being got into readiness
for the great, the longed-for word. Early in the morning of
the 17th the papers were anxiously perused, and man asked man if
any news had leaked out. The 18th arrived. Nothing was known.
The War Office maintained its adamantine calm. The day grew
middle-aged, almost old—then, as the shutters were about to go up
(twenty minutes past nine was the exact hour), one telegram of
Reuter’s fired the fuse, and London, followed presently by the whole
British Empire, was ablaze with excitement. The flame, like most
flames, broke out almost unnoticed. Some one on a cycle—some
one in a cab, heard the glorious three words, and sped breathless to
carry the contagion of his rapture far and wide. Street after street
began to smoulder—to glow; and, presto! the town was one vast
conflagration! Such a furnace of patriotism had never been seen
within the confines of the staid metropolis. By ten o’clock the
populace of one consent had run wild into the streets—the houses[Pg 141]
were too cramped to hold them—they ran wild, roaring and yelling and
shouting and singing, passing into the heart of the Capital in dense
armies—passing? nay!—for soon none could pass, but had merely
to be propelled good-humouredly by the compact mass that surged
apparently to no destination whatever. Whence came the clamouring
hosts it was impossible to say—they seemed to rise from the earth,
so rapidly, so mysteriously, did their numbers increase. Liberty,
equality, fraternity, was the motto of this memorable night. All
ages, and ranks, and sexes were linked together in the bonds of
sympathetic patriotism—countess or coster, duke or drayman, it
was all one—an identical beam of triumph imparted a relationship
to every British face. Minutes had scarcely grown into hours before
the Union Jack fluttered from every window, from every cart and
’bus, from every hand, and the roar of human joy was as the roar of
the ocean in a tempest. At the theatres, as at the railway stations,
the crowds heard and wondered only for a moment, for the electrical
news got into their midst, and they on the instant took up the
cry and the cheer, and repeated them with all their might. Indeed,
theatrical performances were suspended while the joyous audiences
sang and re-sang “Rule, Britannia” and “God Save the Queen,”
and then, unsatisfied, tore into the open to let off steam as it were,
and view a sight which never before has been witnessed, and probably
never again will be visible in the precincts of London Town.
The Mansion House, where the display of the message had caused
a huge concourse to assemble, was next besieged, and the old walls
literally shook with the mighty roar of the multitude. The “National
Anthem” swelled out thunderously with volume that was almost
awe-striking as the combined voice of a Handel Festival, and shouts
for the Lord Mayor grew and grew, and became deafening as that
honoured citizen and splendid patriot showed himself.

He then delivered the following speech: “I wish the music of
your cheers could reach Mafeking. For seven long weary months
a handful of men has been besieged by a horde. We never doubted
what the end would be. British pluck and valour when used in a
right cause must triumph. The heart of every one of you vibrates
with intense loyalty and enthusiasm, I know, and the conscience of
every one of you assures you that we have fought in a righteous
and just cause.” The crowd, incapable of silence for very long,
broke into “Rule, Britannia,” and when this outburst of emotion was
expended, the Lord Mayor continued: “We have fought for our
most glorious traditions of equality and freedom, not for ourselves
alone, but for the men of all those nations who have settled in South
Africa and who were under the protection of the British flag.”
Three cheers for Colonel Baden-Powell were then called for, and
three for Lord Roberts, and these having been heartily given, he[Pg 142]
said: “The people of Bloemfontein and Mafeking are now singing
‘God Save the Queen’; you can do it for yourselves.” This they
proceeded to do not once but twenty times through the livelong
hours of the night. Meanwhile the following practical telegram
was despatched by the Lord Mayor:—

“To Baden-Powell, Mafeking, via Cape Town.

“Citizens London relieved and rejoiced by good news just received. Your
gallant defence will long live in British annals. Cable me what money wanted
for needs of garrison and inhabitants after long privations.

“Alfred Newton, Lord Mayor.”

At the same time a huge portrait of Colonel Baden-Powell was
displayed in front of the Mansion House, and the strains of “God
Save the Queen” and “Rule, Britannia” were now intermingled with
the lively tune of “For he’s a jolly good fellow.” These combined
choruses were echoed and re-echoed, and carried along like a
gigantic stream of sound into the suburbs of London, into sleeping
Kensington and remote Clapham, so that men and women turned in
their beds—sat up, terrified at first, then realising the situation,
gave up thought of rest, and listened with swelling hearts to the
triumphant din. And so, on and on—through the night till morning
broke!

Then, the whole face of London seemed transmogrified. National
emblems—red, white, blue, yellow, green, stars and stripes—draping
the houses and festooning the roads, gave the town the aspect of
one huge bazaar. Balconies were decorated, awnings thrown out,
and in some cases, to give a touch of realism, bathing towels[6] were
hung from the verandahs. People passing by, and ignorant of the
double meaning of the curious drapery, shrugged their shoulders,
scoffed—then, awakened by a flash of illumination, looked again and
broke into renewed cheers. Before the dwelling of the mother
of the defender of Mafeking a vast crowd collected, wielding flags
and laurels, and displaying in their midst the bust of the hero with
a British lion crouching at his feet. Cheers rent the air, and increased
in volume when the proud parent of this splendid Briton
appeared on the balcony and acknowledged the demonstration.
The glad tumult in front of this point of attraction continued
throughout the day, people coming from far and wide here to vent
their ecstasy of enthusiasm—some in shouts, many in tears.

By nightfall, the whole Empire was pouring forth its excitement
in congratulatory telegrams, for, four minutes after the receipt of
the intelligence in London the news had passed over the Atlantic
cables and was in the New York office of the Associated Press,[Pg 143]
whence it was forwarded to the farthest limit of the North American
Continent. Canada, New South Wales, Sydney, and all the other
colonies whose bravest and best had contributed to the great doings
in the Transvaal, were now aglow with bunting and illuminations.
Church bells pealed, processions passed shouting and rejoicing, ships
were dressed from truck to taffrail, and prayers and anthems of
praise were got ready to be offered up on the following day at all
churches.

Thus, for a brief space, was seen a vast concourse of millions of
souls of differing opinions, customs, and creeds, diffused even to the
remotest corners of the British-speaking world, yet closely united
by a bond of fraternal sympathy in consequence of the triumph
of British manhood in the most unique ordeal that the loyalty of
any nation has been called upon to endure.