[Pg i]

“ALL THAT WAS LEFT OF THEM.”

THE BLACK WATCH AFTER THE BATTLE OF MAGERSFONTEIN.

From the Drawing by R. Caton Woodville.

[Pg iii]

South Africa

and the

Transvaal War

BY

LOUIS CRESWICKE

AUTHOR OF “ROXANE,” ETC.

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS

IN SIX VOLUMES

VOL. II.—FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE WAR TO
THE BATTLE OF COLENSO, 15TH DEC. 1899

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

1900

[Pg v]

CONTENTS—Vol. II.

[Pg vi]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS—Vol. II.

[Pg vii]

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE—Vol. II.

OCTOBER.

11.—Boer Ultimatum time-limit expired. Great Britain commenced to
be at war with Transvaal and Orange Free State.

12.—Text of Great Britain’s reply to Boer Ultimatum issued. It
stated that the conditions demanded were such as her
Majesty’s Government deemed it impossible to discuss.

Mr. Conyngham Greene recalled.

Armoured train captured by Boers near Mafeking.

Colonel Baden-Powell moved a large force outside Mafeking, and
took up a strong defensive position.

13.—Newcastle abandoned.

14.—Sir R. Buller and Staff left England.

15.—Boers occupied Newcastle.

16.—Dundee evacuated.

17.—Parliament opened.

Successful sortie by Colonel Baden-Powell from Mafeking.

Armoured train in action near Kimberley during reconnaissance.

18.—Mr. Balfour announced that the Militia and Militia Reserves
were to be called out.

19.—Transvaal flag hoisted at Vryburg.

20.—Boers repulsed by British at Talana Hill (Glencoe).

21.—General French, with about 2000 men, attacked a Boer force
under General Kock at Elandslaagte.

22.—General Symons promoted to be Major-General.

General Yule retired from Dundee on Ladysmith.

23.—Death of General Symons.

Mafeking bombarded.

Transvaal National Bank seized at Durban.

24.—Sir George White engaged Boers at Reitfontein.

Services accepted of Sir William M’Cormac, President of the
Royal College of Surgeons, to attend the wounded.

26.—Generals Yule and White joined forces at Ladysmith.

Bombardment of Mafeking commenced.

28.—Boers were closing round Ladysmith.

Proclamation issued declaring the Boer “commandeering” of
certain portions of Cape Colony null.

30.—Engagement at Lombard’s Kop.

Sir George White sent out from Ladysmith to Nicholson’s Nek a
Mountain Battery, with the Irish Fusiliers and the
Gloucesters, to turn the enemy’s right flank. Mules, with
guns and reserve ammunition, stampeded into enemy’s lines.
After gallantly defending their position for six hours, men’s
ammunition was exhausted, and about 800 were captured. Naval
Brigade did excellent work.

31.—Sir Redvers Buller landed at Cape Town.

NOVEMBER.

1.—Boers invaded Cape Colony.

2.—Free Staters’ position at Besters brilliantly taken by
cavalry. Boers lost heavily; our casualties slight. Boers
treacherously used white flag.

Colenso evacuated by the British.

Arrangements for a supplementary Naval Brigade completed.

Orders issued for mobilising the Militia.

[Pg viii]

3.—Naauwpoort and Stormberg evacuated by the British garrisons.

5.—Death of Commander Egerton, of Powerful.

6.—Ladysmith isolated.

9.—Boers attacked Ladysmith, and repulsed with heavy loss.

Orders issued for mobilisation of a Fifth Division.

10.—Engagement of Belmont. Colonel Keith Falconer killed.

11.—Captain Percy Scott, of H.M.S. Terrible, appointed
commandant of the forces defending Durban.

12.—Lord Methuen arrived at Orange River.

14.—Lieutenant-General Sir Charles Warren appointed to command the
Fifth Division for service in South Africa.

15.—Armoured train wrecked by Boers near Frere. Mr. Winston
Churchill and a number of Dublin Fusiliers and Volunteers
captured.

Boers defeated at Estcourt.

16.—Fighting near Orange River.

17-22.—Transports arrived at Cape Town with 22,000 troops.

20.—Lord Methuen’s force reached Witteputts.

23.—Lord Methuen attacked Boers at Belmont.

Boers routed at Willow Grange.

25.—Lord Methuen engaged the Boers at Graspan (Enslin), and after
four hours’ hard fighting carried position.

26.—Mooi River Column joined at Frere by General Hildyard.

28.—Lord Methuen engaged enemy, 8000 strong, at Modder River, and
after ten hours’ desperate fighting, drove them back.

30.—Sixth Division for South Africa notified.

DECEMBER.

2.—General Clery reached Frere.

3.—Transport Ismore wrecked 180 miles north of Cape Town—all
troops landed.

6.—Sortie from Kimberley. Major Scott Turner killed.

7.—Arundel occupied by British.

8.—British sortie from Ladysmith, Lombard’s Kop being carried.

9.—General Gatacre sustained serious reverse at Stormberg, having
been misled by guides.

Lieutenant-Colonel Metcalfe, 2nd Rifle Brigade, with 500 men
from Ladysmith, captured Surprise Hill, destroying a
howitzer.

10.—General French drove the enemy from Vaal Kop.

11.—Lord Methuen attacked 12,000 Boers entrenched at Majesfontein,
but attack failed, although British troops held their
position. Major-General Wauchope, Major Lord Winchester, and
Colonel Downman killed.

13.—General French defeated 1800 Boers between Arundel and
Naauwpoort. British loss, 1 killed, 8 wounded.

14.—Orders given for the mobilisation of a Sixth Division, and a
Seventh in reserve.

Sir Charles Warren and Staff arrived at the Cape.

15.—General Buller suffered a serious reverse at Colenso, troops
having to retire to Chieveley, leaving behind 11 guns.

General Hector Macdonald appointed to succeed General
Wauchope.

CHART OF STAFF APPOINTMENTS MADE AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE WAR,

as issued by the War Office, 7th October, 1899.

[Pg 1]

SOUTH AFRICA AND THE TRANSVAAL WAR

CHAPTER I

THE CRISIS AT HOME

—Algernon Charles Swinburne.

In the face of the insolent Ultimatum which had been addressed to
Great Britain by the South African Republic, the nation closed its
ranks and relegated party controversy to a more appropriate season.
The British people were temporarily in accord. A wave of indignation
surged over the country, and united men of different shades of
politics and of varying religious creeds, making them forget their
private feuds, and remember only the paramount fact that they were
sons of the Empire. There were some, it is true, who remained afar
off—a few exceptions to prove the rule of unanimity, beings with
souls so dead that never to themselves had said, “This is my own, my
native land,” and who yet looked upon the Boer as an object of
commiseration. But these were, first, men linked either by birth or
family ties with the Afrikander cause; second, fractious Irishmen
and political obstructionists who posed for notoriety at any price;
and, third, eccentrics and originals, whose sense of opposition
forbade them from floating at any time with the tide of public
opinion. Every one else cried aloud for a chance to uphold Great
Britain’s prestige, and the War[Pg 2] Office was so beset with
applications from volunteers for the front that it was found almost
impossible even to consider them. Nor was the excitement confined to
officers alone. Recruiting went on apace, and not only did recruits
pour in, but deserters, who had slunk away from regimental duty, now
returned and gave themselves up, praying to be allowed to suffer any
penalty and then march out to battle as soldiers of the Queen! Two
Royal Proclamations having been issued—the one directing the
continuance in army service, until discharged or transferred to the
reserve, of soldiers whose term of service had expired or was about
to expire; the other, ordering the army reserve to be called out on
permanent service—some 25,000 men received notice to rejoin the
colours. These in large numbers promptly appeared. The New South
Wales Lancers, who had been going through a course of cavalry
training at Aldershot, at once volunteered their services and
started for the Cape amidst scenes of great enthusiasm. Other
colonial troops were as eager to join, and the spirit of military
rivalry throughout Her Majesty’s dominions was both amazing and
inspiriting.

Queensland had the honour of opening the ball. Her sympathy with the
policy of Great Britain and her loyalty to the mother country was
shown in practical form. She intimated, in the event of hostilities,
her willingness to send 250 mounted infantry and a machine-gun to
the front. New Zealand followed suit; she also offered two companies
of mounted rifles fully equipped at the cost of the Colony. These
offers were gratefully accepted. Not to be behind-hand, Western
Australia and Tasmania made similar offers, and Her Majesty’s
Government gladly agreed to accept one unit of 125 men from each.
The Parliament of Victoria voted the despatch of a contingent of 250
men to South Africa, and the Governments of New South Wales and
South Australia actively discussed similar measures. This expression
of Colonial public opinion, embodying as it did the independent
judgments of so many free juries, uninfluenced by personal or direct
interests, had a significance which, besides being politically
important, was eminently satisfactory. All Her Majesty’s dominions,
on which the sun never sets, were at this critical moment holding
hands in a wide circle that encompassed the earth, and the picture
of the small mother country with all her big children gathered
around her in her hour of need was not one that the romance of
history can afford to disregard.

IN SOUTH AFRICA

Before hostilities had actually begun, refugees from Johannesburg
began to pour down to Natal and the Cape, and there were daily
reports of insults received by the Uitlanders at the hands[Pg 3] of the
Boers. Ladies were spat upon, and passengers suffered indignities
sufficient to make an Englishman’s blood boil. Fresh troops began to
arrive from India, and Sir George White, in a chorus of farewell
shouts, “Remember Majuba,” went off from Durban to Pietermaritzburg.
This was on the 7th of October 1899. At that time the troops were
thus distributed:—

Meanwhile, at Pretoria, the Boers, protesting at the notice taken of
the “chimerical grievances of the so-called Uitlanders,” made
energetic efforts to appoint General Viljeon, a rabid anti-Briton,in
place of General Joubert as Commander-in-Chief of the Transvaal
forces.

The troops under Commandant Cronje, the hero of Potchefstroom,
advanced nearer to the border, in the direction of Mafeking, and in
the expectation of attack, this town was securely fortified, while
all the women and children were advised to leave. The fortification
of Kimberley was also commenced. The European exodus from all
quarters continued, defenceless men and women alike being subjected
to insult and ill-treatment by the Boers. Mr. Kruger’s birthday was
kept at Pretoria with general rejoicing, and on the following day a
telegram was sent by President Kruger to the New York World
saying:—

From this letter it was patent that Mr. Kruger was either pursuing
his policy of bluff, or had made long and elaborate preparations for
war with the British. On the same date an announcement was published
in the town of Pretoria:—

Of course, this news caused intense excitement, and all who had
remained sanguine of peace now gave up hope. At Bloemfontein
President Steyn simultaneously issued a Proclamation to the Burghers
of the Free State. He said that “the sister Republic is about to be
attacked by an unscrupulous enemy, who has long looked for a pretext
to annihilate the Afrikanders.”

He went on to say that the people of the Orange Free State were
bound to the Transvaal by many ties, as well as by formal treaty,
and solemnly declared, in the presence of the Almighty, that they
are compelled to resist a powerful enemy owing to the injustice done
to their kith and kin.

Solemn obligations, continued the Proclamation, have not protected
the Transvaal against an annexation conspiracy. When its
independence ceases, the existence of the Orange Free State as an
independent State will be meaningless. Experience in the past has
shown that no reliance can be placed on the solemn promises and
obligations of Great Britain when the Administration at the helm is
prepared to tread treaties under foot.

After giving a historical sketch of the wrongs which he alleged had
been done to the Transvaal, President Steyn said: “The original
Conventions have been twisted and turned by Great Britain into a
means of exercising tyranny against the Transvaal, which has not
returned the injustice done to it in the past. No gratitude has been
shown for the indulgence which was granted to British subjects, who,
according to law, had forfeited their lives and property. Compliance
with the British demands would be equivalent to the loss of our
independence, which has been gained by our blood and tears. For many
years British troops have been concentrating on the borders of the
Transvaal in order to compel it by terrorism to comply with[Pg 5] British
claims. The crafty plans of those with whom love of gold is the
motive are now being realised. While acknowledging the honour of
thousands of Englishmen who abhor deeds of robbery and violence, the
Orange Free State execrates the wrongful deeds of a British
statesman.”

After expressing confidence that the Almighty would help and aid
them, and counselling the Burghers to do nothing unworthy of
Christians and Burghers of the Free State, the President concluded
with the following words: ” Burghers of the Free State, stand up as
one man against the oppressor and violator of right.”

Meanwhile Sir George White, accompanied by Colonel Ian Hamilton
(Assistant Adjutant-General), Colonel Duff (Assistant Military
Secretary), Lieutenant-Colonel Sir Henry Rawlinson, and Captains
Brooke and Lyon, aides-de-camp, was proceeding on his journey to
Ladysmith. The principal British camps were situated near Glencoe
Junction and Ladysmith, and around these some twelve or fifteen
thousand Boers were reported to be stationed between Sandspruit,
Volksrust, and Wakkerstroom, while on the western side the Natal
border was threatened by the Orange Free State’s forces, which were
posted in the neighbourhood of Van Reenen’s Pass.

A Proclamation, signed by Sir Alfred Milner and Mr. Schreiner, was
issued in Cape Town, warning British subjects of their duty to the
Queen, while at the same time the German Consul-General officially
ordered his countrymen to remain neutral. A similar warning was
given by the German Consul to Germans in Johannesburg. Preparations
were made for the immediate landing of a Naval Brigade from the
British battleships in Simon’s Bay, and volunteers of all kinds
hurried to tender their services for special corps. In Pretoria a
further manifesto was issued, calling on Afrikanders to resist the
British demands, and accusing Lord Salisbury, Mr. Chamberlain, and
Sir Alfred Milner of pursuing a “criminal policy.” It also declared
that it was perfectly clear that the desire and object of Great
Britain was to deprive the Transvaal Republic of its independence on
account of the gold-mining industry on the Rand.

The manifesto went on to say that Great Britain had offered two
alternatives—a five years’ franchise or war. It pointed out that
the difference between the two Governments of two years in the
matter of the franchise had been considered as a sufficient
justification for Her Majesty’s Government to endeavour to swallow
up the Republics, and it reminded the Afrikanders that God would
assuredly defend the right.

The manifesto was signed “Francois Willem Reitz, Secretary of
State.” It created a profound sensation, and a million copies were
printed in Dutch and English.

By this time General Viljoen, in command of the Free State[Pg 6]
artillery, was marching towards Albertina, and a party of Boers was
encroaching on the Natal border near Berg. Newcastle was warned that
a state of war had begun. It was abandoned by the British, and taken
possession of by the Boers, while Mafeking held itself in readiness
to withstand the enemy. At Sandspruit the Boers were scattered in
various camps over a wide area, and on the Portuguese border the
Barberton and Lydenburg commandoes were concentrating. Terrified
refugees were still fleeing to the Cape in such large numbers that
it was almost impossible to find accommodation for them, and large
sums of money were being subscribed both there and in Great Britain
for the relief of the unhappy exiles. Mr. Rhodes, as usual, gave
munificently in aid of the sufferers, and Sir Alfred Milner exerted
himself to save the unhappy victims of British and Boer disagreement
from destitution. The treatment that these poor persons received
from the Boers in the course of their journey caused intense
indignation, and profound sympathy was felt for the homeless ones
who thus suddenly had been cast adrift from domestic comfort to
complete poverty.

It was now believed that, following the precedent of 1881, an
attempt would be made to isolate Mafeking and Kimberley, and carry
on irregular sieges at these places. The enemy’s forces on the
northern frontier of Natal were estimated at some 13,000 men, while
at Mafeking and Kimberley they were supposed to number some three
thousand each. On the east, the seaport of Lorenzo Marques now
sprung into great importance, and the supposed neutralisation of the
harbour was effected.

On the 11th of October Mr. Coningham Greene, the British Agent in
Pretoria, left that place for Cape Town; and on the 14th General Sir
Redvers Buller, as Commander-in-chief of the British forces engaged
against the Boer Republics, started from England. The state of war
had commenced in earnest. The Boers in hot haste began to issue
further Proclamations, and President Steyn continued to call on his
Burghers to “stand up as one man against the oppressor and violator
of rights.” Twenty-four hours later they were over the border,
tearing up railway lines and severing telegraph wires, and thus
cutting off communication between Mafeking, Vryburg, Rhodesia, and
Cape Colony. The investment of Kimberley was imminent, but it was
generally believed that the Diamond City was strong enough to hold
its own till our troops should come to the rescue. The First Brigade
of the Army Service Corps started on the 20th of October from
Southampton, the second left on the following day, and the third
sailed on Sunday the 22nd. About the same time the Canadian
Government decided to contribute 1000 men for service in South
Africa, and the New Zealand Contingent sailed for the Cape.

In spite of the energetic movements that were suddenly set on[Pg 7]
foot, a few pessimists ventured to declare that we would be bound to
reap the results of our previous unpreparedness, and that in
consequence of our procrastination and the weakness of the
Government in not having taken the initiative and allowed us to
mobilise earlier, the Boers would get a good six weeks’ start—a
loss it would be hard for the best tacticians or the finest fighting
men in the world to retrieve. But the mouths of the grumblers were
silenced. Every one was convinced that the fate of the nation was
perfectly safe in the hands of Sir Redvers Buller and Mr. Thomas
Atkins, and, so convinced, thousands upon thousands flocked to see
them off, and roared their God-speed with cheery British lungs,
albeit with sad and anxious hearts.

THE OCCUPATION OF DUNDEE

Late in September a force consisting of two battalions of infantry,
a regiment of cavalry, and two field-batteries was hurriedly pushed
forward to occupy Dundee. Affairs between the British and the Boers
were nearing a crisis. It was beginning to be believed that the
Dutchmen meant to take the initiative and strike a blow against our
supremacy in South Africa, though some at home were still
shilly-shallying with sentimental arguments as to the propriety of
fighting our “brother Boer” at all. As we now know, it wanted but
the smallest move on the part of the British to bring things to a
head. Large commandoes were gathered together with a rapidity which
would have been marvellous had the Boers not designedly brought
about the issue of war, and the frontier of the northern angle of
Natal was threatened. Dundee is an important coal-mining centre
situated some forty-eight miles north-east of Ladysmith. Why it was
chosen as our advance post is hard to decide. Its communications
with Ladysmith were open to attack from either flank, and, in the
light of after events, we see that the position there of a detached
force was highly precarious. General Sir George White in an official
despatch thus describes his action in the matter:—

“Since my arrival in the Colony I had been much impressed by the
exposed situation of the garrison of Glencoe, and on the evening of
October 10 I had an interview on the subject with his Excellency the
Governor, at which I laid before him my reasons for considering it
expedient, from a military point of view, to withdraw that garrison,
and to concentrate all my available troops at Ladysmith. After full
discussion his Excellency recorded his opinion that such a step
would involve grave political results and possibilities of so
serious a nature that I determined to accept the military risk of
holding Dundee as the lesser of two evils. I proceeded in person to
Ladysmith on October 11, sending on Lieutenant-General Sir William
Penn Symons to take command at Glencoe.[Pg 8]

“The Boers crossed the frontier both on the north and west on
October 12, and next day the Transvaal flag was hoisted at
Charlestown. My great inferiority in numbers necessarily confined me
strategically to the defensive, but tactically my intention was, and
is, to strike vigorously whenever opportunity offers.”

Everything at this juncture depended on the rapidity with which our
army at home could be mobilised and sent to the Cape, and though we
took to ourselves some credit for the energy displayed by all
concerned, we were really scarcely up to date in the matter of
activity. For instance, in 1859 it took only thirty-seven days for
France to collect on the river Po a force of 104,000 men, with
12,000 more in Italy, while in 1866 the Prussian army, numbering
220,000 men, were placed on the frontiers of Saxony and Silesia in a
fortnight. But more expeditious still was Germany in 1870. In nine
days she was able to mobilise her forces, and in eight more to send
to the French frontier an army of 400,000 soldiers and 1200 guns! We
had, it is true, to ship off our troops a distance of some 8000
miles, but, without counting this—a natural disadvantage—there
were others—many others, the upshot of red-tapism—to be contended
with. This Sir George White was beginning to feel, but his
sufferings in regard to the initial delay were threefold later on.

To return to Dundee. It was maintained both by the Government and
the people of Natal that the valuable coal supply should be
protected, and an attempt was therefore made to guard it. The
misfortune was that from the first Lieutenant-General Sir W. Penn
Symons—who, before the arrival of Sir George White, commanded in
Natal—seemed to be ill acquainted with the enormous forces that the
Boers could bring to bear against him. It was true that he could not
at that time be certain, any more than appeared to be the Government
at home, that the Free Staters would join the Republicans; but to
any one acquainted with the subject, the fact that President Steyn
had pulled the strings of the Bloemfontein affair was sufficient
evidence of a contemplated alliance. With the Free State neutral,
the aspect of affairs might have been entirely changed, and Dundee,
with Ladysmith to support it, might have held its own. As it was,
these small places were from the first placed in the most unenviable
quandary.

General Symons, on the arrival of Sir George White in Natal, took
command of the forces in Dundee, and began active preparations for
the reception of the Dutchmen.

The latter, immediately after the declaration of war, took
possession of Newcastle, and our patrols soon came in touch with the
enemy. In spite of their animated and aggressive movements, however,
Sir W. Penn Symons was disinclined to believe that the enemy meant a
serious attack upon Dundee, and though fully[Pg 10]
prepared for
hostilities, he was somewhat amazed when really informed of the
rapid advance of the united Republicans. But he lost no time. He
made inquiries, and satisfied himself that he was in a position of
some danger and that he must promptly leap to action. The chief
difficulty of the situation lay in the number of passes through
which the Boers with their easily mobilised forces could manage to
pour in bodies of men, and the limited number of British troops at
General Symons’s disposal. From the movements of the Boers it was
obvious that the plan of attack had long been cleverly and carefully
arranged. The Free State Boers on the 12th of October seized
Albertina Station, near the Natal frontier, and took possession of
the key, the stationmaster having to make his way on a trolley to
Ladysmith. There, as yet, all was externally peaceful, as though no
enemy were near, but a suppressed anxiety to be “up and at ’em”
prevailed among the troops. Their ardour was in nowise damped by the
incessant rain that fell, and converted the surrounding country into
a wide morass, nor by the snow that followed, which gave the
Drakensberg Mountains an additionally impregnable aspect and
rendered them at once picturesque and forbidding.

A steady increase of the commandoes in the neighbourhood of
Doornberg continued, and an attack within a few days seemed
imminent.

Thereupon a large number of troops left Ladysmith for Acton Homes,
where a Boer commando of four miles long was reported to be
laagered. But the Boers retreated, and the troops remained some ten
miles from Ladysmith, the Dublin Fusiliers alone moving back to
Glencoe, whence they had come by train by order of General Symons.

At Glencoe we had, as before stated, some 4000 men, but report said
that General Viljeon had an enormous force, nearly double ours in
number, which was lying at the foot of Botha’s Pass, one and a half
miles on the Natal side of the Border. Besides this, General Kock
had a commando at Newcastle. The invasion of Natal by the Boers in
three columns was formally announced by an official statement from
the Governor:—

“Pietermaritzburg, October 16.

“Natal was invaded from the Transvaal early on the morning of the
12th inst., an advance being made by the enemy in three columns. On
the right a mixed column of Transvaal and Free State Burghers with
Hollander Volunteers marched through Botha’s Pass. In the centre the
main column, under General Joubert’s personal command, crossed
Lang’s Nek and moved forward viâ Ingogo. On the left a large
commando advanced from Wakker[Pg 11]stroom viâ Moll’s Nek and Wool’s
Drift. The object of all three columns was Newcastle, which was
occupied on the night of the 14th, the central column having slept
the previous night at Mount Prospect, General Colley’s old
camping-place. On Sunday an advance party of 1500 Boers, with
artillery, pushed south of Ingagane, but the greater portion of this
commando retired later in the day on Newcastle. A Boer force which
had been concentrating at De Jager’s Drift captured six Natal
policemen. A picket of the King’s Royal Rifles Mounted Infantry has
exchanged a few shots with the enemy. This has hitherto been the
only fighting.

“A large force of Free State Boers, estimated at from 11,000 to
13,000, is watching the passes of the Drakensberg from Olivier’s
Hoek to Collins’s Pass. They have pushed a few patrols down the
berg, but hitherto the main force has not debouched from the actual
passes, which are being intrenched.”

As will be seen, the advance of the foe seemed to be converging on
Sir George White’s position from all directions, and threatening
Glencoe from the north, east, and possibly west. Still the troops
remained cheerful and looked forward to a brush with the enemy. On
the 18th hostilities were begun by the Free State commando moving
about ten miles down the Tintwa Pass. They opened fire with their
artillery on some small cavalry patrols, but their shooting was
distinctly inferior, and no one was injured. They retreated on the
advance of the 5th Lancers. Several more commandoes were known to
have advanced to join a force stationed at Doornberg, some twelve
miles from Dundee, and the enemy’s scouts having also been seen some
seven miles off Glencoe, an engagement was expected at any moment.
An interesting account of this interval of suspense was given by an
officer writing on the 16th October from Dundee, interesting and
pathetic, too, when, in reading it, we remember that the gallant
fellow to whom the writer alluded is alive no longer. He said:—

“Hitherto there has been no fighting at all, but our patrols are in
touch with the enemy. I was out on my first patrol the day before
yesterday since the declaration of war. My orders were to start at 6
a.m., push on about twelve miles along the Newcastle road, and stay
out till about 6 p.m. I went out to a small hill about four miles
from the camp and reconnoitered, and then went on to a place called
Hadding Spruit, where I found a few people at the station and the
stationmaster. This is at present the terminus of the line, all the
rolling stock north of this having been sent south, and all the
wires cut and instruments removed by the railway people. There is a
large coal-mine here, and the people are in a deadly funk about
being blown up. I pushed on to a large kopje, a few miles this side
and west of Dannhauser, and climbed to the top, where I[Pg 12] spent an
hour or so, as from there one can see as far as Ingagane Nek, four
miles this side of Newcastle, the place I sketched. Just as I looked
over the top of the hill I saw two men on ponies with guns. They
were talking to a Kaffir. I at once put them down as Boers, and
thought of firing at them, but decided not to disclose my position
and watch them. This was lucky for them, as I caught them later, and
found them to be refugees flying from the Boers, who I discovered
were in occupation of Ingagane and Newcastle, and had their patrols
out nearly to Dannhauser.

“I then went on to Dannhauser, which consists of a railway station,
two farms, a store, a couple of coolie stores, a mine, and a few
huts. We approached with magazines charged and expected to see a
Boer every minute, but found that they were not expected to come
down as far as that till next day. I then made my way slowly back by
the main road, and reached camp about 5 p.m., when I found that the
other patrol (six men and an officer is the strength of each) had
proceeded to De Jager’s Drift and had not returned. A telephonic
communication from the police-station at De Jager’s Drift said, ‘A
large force of forty Boers have crossed Buffalo to cut off your
patrol. Am trying …’—and then ended abruptly. It eventually
transpired that the Boers rushed the police-station before the
message could be completed. Thackwell, who was in command of the
patrol, pursued twelve Boers up to the river. Then thirty-four
crossed to our side, and twelve lower down, the twelve trying to cut
him off behind. However, he retired on to a nek behind, and as they
did not come on, he moved off in about half an hour by another road.
This was lucky for him, as he saw the twelve men who had crossed by
Landsman’s Drift disconsolately coming down from a lot of rocks
where they had been lying in wait for him on the road he had come
by.

“There seems to have been something going on at Kimberley. I wish
they would buck up here and do something. I am on picket to-night,
which means no sleep and a lot of bother, as the picket is about
seven miles from camp at the junction of the Vant’s Drift and De
Jager’s Drift roads, where there is a chance of being plugged at.
The picket on the Helmakaar road was shot at the other night.

“One of the armoured trains came up here yesterday—an ugly-looking
beast with the engine in the middle, all covered with iron, so that
only just the top of the funnel is visible. I do not believe in
them. If any one puts a dynamite cartridge under a rail—pop! up
goes the armoured train.

“I think this will be a very interesting war, as the railway will
play such an important part in the tactics. Thus the other day we
sent the Dublin Fusiliers down to Ladysmith to repel an[Pg 13] expected
attack at half-an-hour’s notice, and brought them back the same
night….

“We are under an awfully nice General—one Penn Symons—a real good
chap.”

On the 18th of October the Carabineers were in touch with the enemy
in the neighbourhood of Bester’s Farm a great part of the day, and
Lieutenant Galway, son of the Chief-Justice of Natal, who remained
to watch his troops off the kopje, was reported missing. The
Carabineers were compelled to retire owing to being completely
outnumbered by the Boer force, and had they not done so they would
have run the risk of being cut off from their supports. There were
some hair-breadth escapes, and Major Taunton, who was riding at the
head of his squadron, came through a vigorous hail of bullets quite
uninjured.

Major Rethman, in command of 300 Natal Mounted Rifles, also actively
engaged the enemy near Acton Homes, but was also compelled to retire
for fear of being cut off. Being quite conversant with Boer tactics,
he refused to be drawn by the pretence of retreat made by the
Dutchmen, knowing that concealed forces of the enemy in great
numbers were waiting to entrap him. Major Rethman, believing in the
old saw that brevity is the soul of wit, reported his loss as “one
hat.”

The Dutchmen now advanced. An armoured train, sent by Sir George
White to bring in wounded from Bester’s Farm, returned discomfited,
as the rails over the bridge four miles off Ladysmith had been
tampered with. It was found that a farm, which had been deserted
earlier in the day, was now in the occupation of the Boers, but
these, though established on the south side of the line, made no
effort to attack the train and allowed it to return unmolested.
Rumours of fighting were in the air, and skirmishes between advance
parties of British troops and Boers were the order of the day. A
report reached the Glencoe camp that the Boers had been seen some
seven miles off, whereupon Major Laming with a squadron of the 18th
Hussars rode out to reconnoitre. Lieutenant Cape, the advanced
officer’s patrol, discovered a strong advance party of the enemy,
who delivered a heavy fire, but fortunately without result. This
most probably was due to the swift and clever manœuvring of the
Hussars.

The Carabineers and Border Mounted Rifles, who were in action nearly
the whole of the 18th of October, returned to camp at three in the
morning of the 19th. They were quite worn out and famished, having
been for twenty-four hours without food, and three days and two
nights in the saddle. Considering the excitement and fatigue, they
were in excellent spirits. Their experience was a novel one, for on
this occasion the Boers, who usually prefer to skulk[Pg 14] under cover,
made incipient rushes at certain points. They gave way, however,
before the pressing attentions of the Maxims, and fled
helter-skelter to cover again; but their departure was on the
principle of “those who fight and run away live to fight another
day.” They reserved themselves for a more decisive effort.

At midday on the 19th a mixed train running from Ladysmith to Dundee
was captured by the enemy about a mile off Elandslaagte Station,
which stands about fifteen miles from Ladysmith, and is the first
station from thence on the line. A war correspondent was taken
prisoner, four Carabineers were wounded, and some horses and cattle
seized. Telegraphic communication in the north was cut off, and four
trucks of stores in the Elandslaagte Station were captured.

THE BATTLE OF GLENCOE

On the night of the 19th, Sir W. Penn Symons discovered that he was
surrounded by the enemy. Three of their columns were converging on
his position—one from the north-west under General Erasmus by the
Dannhauser-Hattingspruit road; one from Utrecht and Vryheid by
Landsman’s Drift from the east, under Commandant Lucas Meyer; and a
third under General Viljoen from Waschbank on the south, this latter
being the force which cut through the Ladysmith-Dundee railway.

The Boer plan was to deliver simultaneously different attacks from
all sides of the Glencoe camp. The column under Erasmus was to open
the attack from the north-west, and falling back, was to draw Symons
in pursuit away from his camp. Then Viljoen and Meyer were to close
on the pursuers from either flank and annihilate them.

Fortunately this skilfully-devised programme was not fulfilled. For
this reason: The force under Lucas Meyer was the first to arrive,
and its leader, impatient to secure the glories of war, decided on
an independent course of action. Before the other columns could put
in an appearance he opened the attack. On the hills round Glencoe
the Boers had posted cannon, and from thence at daybreak on the 20th
of October Meyer’s gunners began to fire plugged shells into the
camp. A flash—a puff of smoke—a whizz and a crash! Hostilities had
begun! By 5 p.m. all General Symons’s troops were under arms. It was
evident that the enemy were in force, and that their guns were some
half-a-dozen in number. Their range was 5000 yards, but,
fortunately, their shots, though well directed, flew screaming
overhead and buried themselves in the soft earth, doing no damage
whatever. A few tents fell, a few marquees were torn up. That was
all. Our artillery soon came into[Pg 15] action, at first at too long a
range, but afterwards—from a position south of Dundee—with greater
success. They then replied to the enemy’s challenge with
considerable warmth and excellent effect; and, since our batteries
numbered some three to one, by 11.30 o’clock the enemy’s Krupps were
silenced. In the meantime the infantry, the 1st King’s Royal Rifles
and the 2nd Dublin Fusiliers, formed for attack opposite the enemy’s
position, which was situated some two miles off at the top of an
almost impregnable hill. Huge boulders margined the sides of it, and
half-way up an encircling wall added to the impassability of the
position. But the word impossible is not to be found in the
dictionary of a soldier, and General Symons gave an order. The hill
was to be taken. The bugles rang out; the infantry fixed bayonets.
Then was enacted another, only a grander, Majuba, but now with the
position of the contending forces inverted. Doubtless the memory of
that historic defeat inspired our men, for they evidently decided
that what the Boer had done, the Briton also could do, and, spurred
by their officers, who showed an absolute disregard of the
possibilities of danger, went ahead and carried the crest in
magnificent style. No such brilliant achievement of British infantry
has been recorded since Albuera. But this, as we shall see, was not
accomplished in a moment. It involved tremendous exposure in
crossing an open plain intersected with nullahs under a terrific
fire, followed by a long spell of dogged climbing, finally on hand
and knees, over more than a mile of broken, sometimes almost
perpendicular, ground, and in the midst of an incessant and furious
fusilade.

Position of Forces before the Battle of Glencoe.

At 7.30 a.m. the head of the Hattingspruit column appeared; appeared
but to vanish—for it was at once saluted by the 67th Field Battery,
and being unprepared for this somewhat boisterous attention, made
haste to beat a retreat. At 8.50 the infantry brigade was ordered to
advance. Soon the Dublin Fusiliers and the Rifles, who had been
reinforced by the Royal Irish Fusiliers, were steadily moving on,
firing by sections, and using what cover the ground afforded.
Overhead, from the hill described,[Pg 16] and from another south of the
road, the ever-active shells continued their grim music, while all
around was the dense curtain of fine rain that drizzled down like
wet needles from an opaque sky, making a screen between the opposing
forces. But on and on, led by their gallant officers, our infantry
continued to toil, their advance ever covered by the 13th and 67th
Field Batteries—under the command respectively of Major Dawkins and
Major Wing—while the enemy from above poured upon them volley after
volley as hard as rifles would let them. When half-way up, where the
kopje was girded by a flat terrace and a stone wall, the troops,
scattered by the terrific fire, hot, drenched, and panting with
their climb, made a halt. There, under the lea of the hill, it was
necessary to get “a breather,” and to gather themselves together for
the supreme effort. The scene was not exhilarating. The grey mist
falling—the scattered earth and mud rising and spluttering, the
shrieking shells rending the air, already vibrant with the whirr of
bullets—the closer sounds and sights of death and destruction—all
these things were sufficient to stem the courage of stoutest hearts.
Still the British band remained undaunted, still they prepared
boldly for the final rush. Presently, with renewed energy the three
gallant regiments, steadily and determinedly as ever, started off,
scaled the wall, clambered up the steep acclivity, and finally, with
a rush and a roar as of released pandemonium, charged the crest.

The rout of the enemy was complete. At the glint of the steel they
turned and ran—ran like panic-stricken sheep, helter-skelter over
the hill, in the direction of Landmann’s and Vant’s Drifts. Their
retreat was harried by cavalry and mounted infantry, and, so far as
it was possible, in view of the inaccessible position, by the field
artillery. At this juncture the enemy displayed a white
flag—without any intention of surrender, it appears—but our firing
was stopped by order of the artillery commander. Two guns and
several prisoners were captured, together with horses and various
boxes of shells for Maxim, Nordenfeldt, and Krupp quick-firing guns.
Our wounded were many, and some companies looked woefully attenuated
as the remnant, when all was over, whistled themselves back to camp.
Their gallant leader, General Penn Symons, who had taken no
precautions to keep under cover, but, on the contrary, had made
himself conspicuous in being accompanied by a lancer with a red
flag, fell early in the fight, mortally wounded. His place was taken
by Brigadier-General Yule, whose position at that time was far from
enviable. A message had been brought in by scouts, stating that some
9000 Boers were marching with the intention of attacking the British
in the rear, and that at the very moment the advancing multitude
might be cloaked in a dark mist that was gathering round the hills.
Fortunately the hovering hordes[Pg 17] failed to appear, and the first
big engagement of the war terminated in a glorious victory for
British arms.

From all accounts the two hostile columns numbered respectively 4000
and 9000 men, and against these forces Sir Penn Symons had at his
command in all about 4000. Among these were the 13th, 67th, and 69th
Field Batteries, the 18th Hussars, the Natal Mounted Volunteers, the
8th Battalion Leicester Regiment, the 1st King’s Royal Rifles, the
2nd Dublin Fusiliers, and several companies of mounted infantry. But
on the Dublin Fusiliers, the King’s Royal Rifles, and the Royal
Irish Fusiliers fell the brunt of the work, the task of capturing
the Boer position, and the magnificent dash and courage with which
the almost impossible feat was accomplished brought a thrill to the
heart of all who had the good fortune to witness it.

Though the fight was a successful one, a grievous incident occurred.
The 18th Hussars had received orders at 5.40 a.m. to get round the
enemy’s right flank and be ready to cut off his retreat. They were
accompanied by a portion of the mounted infantry and a machine-gun.
Making a wide turning movement, they gained the eastern side of
Talana Hill and there halted, while two squadrons were sent in
pursuit of the enemy. From that time, though firing was heard at
intervals throughout the day, Colonel Moeller, with a squadron of
the 18th Hussars and four sections of mounted infantry, was lost to
sight. The rain had increased and the mist covered the hills, and it
was believed that in course of time this missing party would return.
But the belief was vain. In a few days it was[Pg 18] discovered that they
were made prisoners and had been removed to Pretoria. The following
is a list of the gallant officers who were so unluckily captured:—

An official account of the circumstances which led to the capture
was supplied by Captain Hardy, R.A.M.C., who said: “After the
battle, three squadrons of the 18th Hussars, with one Maxim, a
company of the Dublin Fusiliers, a section of the 60th Rifles and
Mounted Infantry, Colonel Moeller commanding, kept under cover of
the ridge to the north of the camp, and at 6.30 moved down the Sand
Spruit. On reaching the open the force was shelled by the enemy, but
there were no casualties.

“Colonel Moeller took his men round Talana Hill in a south-easterly
direction, crossed the Vant’s Drift road, captured several Boers,
and saw the Boer ambulances retiring. Colonel Moeller, with the B
Squadron of the Hussars, a Maxim, and mounted infantry, crossed the
Dundee-Vryheid railway, and got near a big force of the enemy, who
opened a hot fire, and Lieutenant M’Lachlan was hit.

“The cavalry retired across Vant’s Drift, 1500 Boers following.
Colonel Moeller held the ridge for some time, but the enemy
enveloping his right, he ordered the force to fall back across the
Spruit. The Maxim got fixed in a donga (water-hole). Lieutenant Cape
was wounded, three of his detachment were killed, and the horses of
Major Greville and Captain Pollok were shot.

“The force re-formed on a ridge north of the Sand Spruit, and held
it for a short time. While Captain Hardy was attending to Lieutenant
Crum, who was wounded, Colonel Moeller retired his force into a
defile, apparently with the intention of returning to camp round the
Impati Mountain, and was not seen afterwards.”

The following list of casualties shows how hardly the glory of
victories may be earned:—

The Boer force engaged in this action was computed at 4000 men, of
whom about 500 were killed, wounded, or taken prisoners. Three of
their guns were left dismounted on Talana Hill, but there was no
opportunity of bringing them away.

Our own losses were severe, amounting to 10 officers and 31
non-commissioned officers and men killed, 20 officers and 165 non-commissioned
[Pg 20]officers and men wounded, and 9 officers and 211
non-commissioned officers and men missing.

Though General Symons was known to be at the point of death, his
promotion was speedily gazetted, and it was some consolation to feel
that the gallant and popular officer lasted long enough to read of
the recognition of his worth by an appreciative country. The
following is an extract from the Gazette:—

“The Queen has been pleased to approve of the promotion of Colonel
(local Lieutenant-General) Sir W. P. Symons, K.C.B., commanding 4th
Division Natal Field Force, to be Major-General, supernumerary to
the establishment, for distinguished service in the field.”

An officer who was taken prisoner by the enemy, writing home soon
after this engagement, made touching reference to some of the killed
and wounded: “Poor Jack Sherston! Several of the officers here saw
him lying dead on the hill at Dundee. When he left with the message
entrusted to him he said to me, ‘I shall never return.’ Poor Captain
Pechell! He had a bullet through the neck. General Symons was
wounded and thrown from his horse, but he remounted and was
conducted to the hospital, where he learnt that the height had been
taken by our troops. His health improved a little, but he died on
the following Tuesday. What a list of losses already! It is terrible
to think that our own cannon were fired by mistake on our men,
killing a large number. I saw M’Lachlan when he was wounded with a
bullet in his leg. He went about on horseback saying that it did not
hurt him, but at last he had to go to the hospital. My bugler, such
a pleasant fellow, was hit in the head, the body, and the throat,
and killed on the spot…. From a wounded officer, who is a
prisoner, I hear that poor Cape had a bullet in the throat and
another in the leg. He emptied his revolver twice ere falling. He is
progressing towards recovery…. He had the command of our Maxim gun
which fell into the hands of the enemy. The entire detachment which
worked the gun was killed or wounded. At that moment bullets were
whistling all round us. Cape, I think, has been exchanged for one of
the enemy’s wounded. I suppose that he will be sent home invalided.
I wonder what the future has in store for us? It is really
heart-breaking to think that we are penned in here without being
able to do anything but wait.”

ELANDSLAAGTE

Amongst other things, it was known in Ladysmith on the 18th of
October that General Koch’s commando was moving to the Biggarsberg
Pass on the way to Elandslaagte. The advanced guard of the Boers
finding a train at the Elandslaagte station,[Pg 21] attempted to seize it,
but the driver with remarkable pluck turned on steam, and, though
pelted with bullets, got safely to Dundee. The second train was
captured, however, and with it its valuable cargo of live stock, and
two newspaper correspondents, who were made prisoners. Finding that
the enemy was gathered in force round Dundee, and that an attack
there was hourly to be expected, and, moreover, that several Free
State commandoes were shifting about round Ladysmith, the
inhabitants of that town had an uneasy time. Major-General French,
who had but recently arrived from England, was directed by Sir
George White to make a reconnaissance in force in the neighbourhood
of Elandslaagte. He moved his cavalry in the pouring rain some
twelve miles along the Dundee road, but besides locating the enemy,
and beyond the capture of two of their number, who seemed not
ill-disposed to be made prisoners, little was done. On the following
day, Saturday, another reconnaissance was made. General French with
Lieutenant-Colonel Scott Chisholme and the Imperial Light Horse, the
Natal Volunteer Artillery with six guns, supported by half a
battalion of the Manchesters, with railway and telegraph
construction companies, started in the direction occupied by the
enemy on the preceding day. General French’s orders were simple and
explicit, namely, to clear the neighbourhood of Elandslaagte of the
enemy and to cover the construction of the railway and telegraph
lines. The troops slowly proceeded along a low tableland which
terminated in a cliff. On a plain below this cliff lay the station
and village of Elandslaagte, and round and about this settlement
mounted Boers were swarming. These no sooner espied the British than
they made off as fast as their nimble steeds could carry them,
ascending in the direction of a high kopje some 5000 yards away.
Those who remained in the station were fired on by our Volunteer
Battery, while a squadron under Major Sampson moved round to the
north of them.

Position of Forces Before the Battle of Elandslaagte,
Noon

The first two shells caused considerable consternation among the
Dutchmen, but they were soon returned with interest. Though the
enemy used smokeless explosives, their battery was revealed by the
yellow flash of the guns in the purple shadow of the hill. These[Pg 22]
guns were worked with marvellous accuracy, but, fortunately, many of
the shells—fired with percussion fuses—dug deep into the sand
before bursting. The Volunteer Battery found their own guns so
inferior to those of the enemy that there was little chance of
silencing them, and General French, seeing there was no question of
occupying Elandslaagte with the small force at his disposal, moved
his guns back towards his armoured train, telephoned to Sir George
White, and withdrew in the direction of Modder’s Spruit. There he
awaited reinforcements from Ladysmith. These at 11 o’clock began to
appear: One squadron of the 5th Dragoon Guards, one squadron of the
5th Lancers under Colonel King, and two batteries of artillery, the
latter having come out at a gallop with double teams. Then the
infantry arrived under Colonel Ian Hamilton, the second
half-battalion of the Manchester Regiment, a battalion of the
Devonshire Regiment under Major Park, and five companies of the
Gordon Highlanders under Lieutenant-Colonel Dick-Cunyngham, V.C.

At 3.30 p.m. General White arrived on the scene, but the executive
command of the troops engaged remained in the hands of General
French. The Boers were discovered to be magnificently posted on a
horseshoe-shaped ridge about 800 feet above the level of the railway
to north of the Ladysmith-Dundee road, standing almost at a right
angle from the permanent way, though some 2000 yards removed from
it. On the side nearing the railroad the ridge was crowned with a
peaked kopje, which hill was connected by a nek with another
eminence of the same kind. These hills were held by the enemy, while
their laager was situated on the connecting ridge. The position was
strewn on both flanks by very rough boulders which afforded
excellent cover. On the main hill were three big guns strongly
posted at three different points so as to command a wide expanse of
country and leave a retreat open over the hills in the direction of
Wessel’s Nek. Facing the ridge was a wide expanse of veldt rising
upwards in the direction of Ladysmith.

At four—an unusually late hour for the commencement of
hostilities—the first gun boomed out; the range was 4400 yards. A
few moments of furious cannonading, then the enemy’s guns ceased to
reply. The silence enabled the artillerymen to turn their attention
on a party of the foe who were annoying them with a persistent
rifle-fire on the right flank at a range of 2000 yards. It was an
admirable corrective, and the Boer sharpshooters retired
discomfited. Meanwhile the infantry had been brought up in
preparatory battle formation of small columns covered by scouts. The
position of the infantry was then as follows:—

The first battalion Devonshire Regiment, with a frontage of 500
yards and a depth of 1300 yards, was halted on the western[Pg 23]
extremity of a horseshoe-shaped ridge. The opposite end of this
ridge, which was extremely rugged and broken, was held by the enemy
in force. The first battalion Manchester Regiment had struck the
ridge fully 1000 yards to the south-east, just at the point where it
begins to bend round northwards. The second battalion Gordon
Highlanders were one mile in rear.

Now, no sooner had the Devonshire Regiment commenced to move forward
than they attracted the shell of the enemy, but owing to the loose
formation adopted, the loss at this time was slight. In spite of the
furious fire, the regiment still pushed on to within 900 yards of
the position, and then opening fire, held the enemy in front of them
till 6 p.m. The batteries also advanced and took up a position on a
ridge between the Devonshire and Manchester Regiments, about 3200
yards from the enemy. Then began an animated artillery duel, the
roar of guns mingling with the thunder of heaven, which at this
juncture seemed to have attuned itself to suit the stormy state of
the human tempest that was raging below. At this period considerable
damage was done. Captain Campbell, R.A., was wounded, an ammunition
waggon overturned, and many men and horses were killed or injured.
For some time the interchange of deadly projectiles was pursued with
vigour, then the 42nd Field Battery came into action. The Imperial
Light Horse now moved left of the enemy’s position; some mounted
Boers at once pushed out and engaged them. Soon after this the guns
from above ceasing firing, our gunners turned their attention to the
mounted Boers, who rapidly fell back. Then, as the sun was setting
and dark clouds were rolling over the heavens and screening the
little light that remained, the infantry pressed forward. The plan
was that while the Devonshire Regiment made a frontal attack, the
Manchester Regiment, supported by the Gordons with the Imperial
Light Horse on the right, were to advance along the sloping ridge,
turn the enemy’s flank and force him back on his main position. This
movement was to be supported by the artillery, which was to close in
as the attack developed.

The Devons, under Major Park, marched out, as said, leading the way
across the plateau and into the valley coolly and deliberately,
though under a terrific fire from above. The Boer guns, which were
served with great courage, invariably gave tongue on the smallest
provocation, and the ground was ploughed up in every direction with
bursting shell. But fortunately few of the gallant Devons were hit.
Later on they drew nearer the position, and the regiment, halted
under cover of convenient ant-hills, and opened fire. The rifles of
the enemy were not slow to reply. Their Mauser bullets whirred like
swarms of bees around the heads of the plucky fellows, who, heedless
of them, dauntlessly advanced to within some[Pg 24] 350 yards of the
summit of the hill. There they awaited the development of the flank
attack.

Meanwhile the Manchesters, with the Imperial Light Horse and the
Gordons, were winding round the lower steeps, the Gordons bearing to
the right through a cutting in the hills. Here, ascending, they came
under the artillery fire of the enemy, the Boers having moved their
guns. Shells, and not only shells but huge boulders, dropped among
the advancing troops, crushing and mutilating, and leaving behind a
streak of mangled bodies. But though the ordeal was terrible, and
the sound and sight of wounded and bleeding were enough to paralyse
the stoutest heart, the ever “gay” Gordons plodded on, passing
higher and higher, while their officers leading, cheered and roared
them up the precipitous ascent. Thus they clambered and plodded,
with men dropping dead at their elbows, with torn and fainting
comrades by their sides. A storm of rain from the gathering
thunderclouds drenched them through to the skin, but they heeded it
not. A storm of bullets from the Boers sensibly diminished their
numbers, but they never swerved. Then their gallant commander fell.
Colonel Dick-Cunyngham, the honoured and beloved, was shot in two
places. Several other dashing Scottish officers were wounded, but
many still heroically stumbled and reeled over the boulders, some
even waving their helmets to pretend they were unhurt, and to
encourage their companions to the great, the final move….

At last the signal for the charge was sounded. The bugle blared out
and was echoed and re-echoed. Then came flash of bayonet and sound
of cheering throats, the rush of Devons, Manchesters, Gordons, and
dismounted Imperials—a wild, shouting mass making straight for the
enemy’s position.

To account for the presence of the Devons in the grand melée it is
necessary to go back somewhat, as the great assault was not
accomplished in a moment.

Our men were advancing in short rushes of about fifty yards, the
Boers all the while lying under cover and shooting till the troops
were within some twenty or thirty yards of them. Then the Dutchmen,
as suited their convenience, either bolted or surrendered.

When the end ridge was gained and the guns captured, the enemy’s
laager was close in sight. A white flag was shown from the centre of
the camps. At this Colonel Hamilton gave an order. The “Cease fire”
was sounded. There was a lull in the action, some of our men
commencing to walk slowly down-hill towards the camp. Suddenly,
without warning, the crackle of musketry was heard, and a deadly
fire poured from a small sugar-loaf shaped kopje to east of the
camp. For one short moment our men, staggered by the dastardly
action[Pg 25] and the fierce suddenness of the attack, fell back, and
during this moment a party of some forty Boers had stoutly charged
uphill and effected a lodgment near the crest.

Plan of Battle of Elandslaagte

But this ruse was a failure and their triumph short-lived. The 1st
Battalion Devonshire Regiment, who, as we know, had been holding the
enemy in front during the commencement of the infantry attack, and
had since then pushed steadily forward, had now reached to 350 yards
from the enemy. Here they lay down to recover breath before charging
with fixed bayonets. Five companies assaulted the hill to the left
and five to the right; and a detachment of these, arriving at the
critical moment when the Boers were making their last stand, helped
to bring about the triumphant finale.

Like the lightning that shot through the sky above, the Boers, at
the sound of the united cheers, had fled! Some scampered away to
their laager on the Nek, and from thence to other kopjes. Others
filed in troops anywhere, regardless of consequences. While they
were in full retreat, and the mists of darkness, like a gathering
pall, hung over the scene, the 5th Lancers and the 5th Dragoon
Guards charged the flying enemy—charged not once nor twice only,
but thrice, dashing through the scattered ranks with deadly purpose,
though at terrible risk of life and limb. Never were Boers so
amazed.[Pg 26] The despised worms—the miserable Rooineks—had at last
turned, and, as one of them afterwards described it, they had “come
on horses galloping, and with long sticks with spikes at the end of
them, picked us up like bundles of hay!”

The cost of victory, however, was heavy. Roughly estimated, we lost
4 officers and 37 men killed; 31 officers and 175 men wounded. Ten
men were missing. The Boers lost over 300 Burghers killed and
wounded, besides several hundred horses. Their hospital with wounded
prisoners was placed under the care of the British hospital, they
having only one doctor, who, with his primitive staff, was quite
unable to cope with the arduous work of attending the multitude of
sufferers.

Numbers of the enemy of all nationalities—Germans, Hollanders,
Irish, and others—were made prisoners, and among them were General
de Koch and Piet Joubert, nephew of General Joubert. General Viljoen
was killed. The mongrel force, estimated at about 1200 strong, was
commanded by Colonel Schiel, to whom it doubtless owed its excellent
tactical disposition. This officer was wounded and taken prisoner.
The Times gave somewhat interesting character sketches of
prominent Boers who were killed or wounded on this occasion:—

The courage of the Boers during this battle was immense. About two
thousand were engaged, and these, though certainly aided by the
strength of their position, fought valiantly, facing doggedly the
heavy consummately well-directed fire of the British artillery, and
returning it with undiminished coolness.

An interesting incident is mentioned in connection with the battle.
When the fire of the British guns became overwhelming, eight plucky
Boers dashed forward from cover, and, standing together, steadily
opened fire on the men of the Imperial Light Horse, with the evident
purpose of drawing their fire, while their comrades should change
position. Out of this gallant little band, only one man was left to
tell the tale![Pg 27]

The following is the casualty roll of officers killed at the battle
of Elandslaagte:—

The following tribute to the memory of Colonel Scott Chisholme is
taken from Mr. John Stuart’s correspondence to the Morning Post:—

“No death has been more severely felt than the Colonel’s. He was a
good man and a good soldier, brave to the point of recklessness, a
wonderfully-inspiriting leader, and, as I judged from about [Pg 28]a
month’s knowledge of him, single-minded, fervent in all his work,
passionately in earnest. His regiment almost worshipped him. On the
day of the fight their keenness was increased because he was keen,
and they ignored the hardships they had gone through because he
shared them and took them lightly, and did his best to improve
matters.

“During the fight he only took cover once or twice, going from troop
to troop, praising and encouraging the men in words that were always
well chosen, for no man could phrase his blame or praise more aptly.
At the last ridge he stopped to tie up the leg of a wounded trooper,
and was shot himself in the leg. Two of his men went to his
assistance, but he waved them off, telling them to go on with their
fighting and to leave him alone. Then he was shot in one of the
lungs, and the men went to his help, but while they were trying to
get him to cover, a bullet lodged in his head and killed him. The
last words he was heard to say were, ‘My fellows are doing well.’
His fellows will always remember that.

“I may be allowed to recall one or two interesting recollections of
the Colonel. One is the speech he delivered when the Maritzburg Club
dined him and his officers. Both he and General Symons spoke.
Neither man was an orator, and yet each was more convincing than
many orators, speaking simple, soldierly, purposeful words, words
whose simplicity drove them home. Almost a week before the battle I
saw the Colonel arranging his camp. He had taken off his tunic and
helmet, and did twice as much direction as any other officer, and he
worked as hard as any of the men. It was then, when I saw his vigour
in full activity, that I realised his wonderful capacity for work—a
capacity of which I had often heard, but which I had not been able
to comprehend before.

“The last time I saw him was at the outspan before the battle began.
He came to a group of us and gave one or two orders in such pleasant
words that one knew that to obey him must in itself be a real
delight. Then he sat down and gossiped with us, first about his luck
in the morning, when a shell that hit the ground between his horse’s
feet had failed to burst, and afterwards about luck in general. He
advised the officers to tell their men to sleep while they could,
and then he said, ‘Now I’ll go and get half-an-hour’s sleep myself.’
But at that moment an aide-de-camp came saying that General French
wanted to see him. When the Colonel returned, it was to order his
regiment to saddle up and prepare to mount. In half-an-hour he was
leading the attack on the first kopje.

“I like to think that before death smote him he knew that the battle
was won, and that his fellows had done well, as he expected that
they would, as he had helped them to do by example and generous
encouragement.”[Pg 29]

A private of the Gordon Highlanders, in a letter dated Ladysmith,
November 2, gave a vivid account of the charge of the Gordons at
Elandslaagte, and described how Lieutenant-Colonel Dick-Cunyngham
was wounded when leading his men, and that officer’s chagrin at his
being rendered impotent. He said: “We charged three times with the
bayonet, and my gun was covered with whiskers and blood, though I
don’t remember striking anybody, but I was nearly mad with
excitement, shells bursting and bullets whizzing round like hail. I
was close behind the commanding officer when he was wounded. He was
shot and had to sit down, but he cheered on his men. ‘Forward,
Gordons,’ he cried, ‘the world is looking at you. Brave lads, give
it to the beggars, exterminate the vermin—charge.’ He then started
crying because he could no longer lead his battalion, and he would
not retire from the field until the day was won. He is a fine man to
lead a battalion—as brave as a lion. The Gordons were the last
line, and we raced through the Manchesters and the Devons and the
Light Horse Volunteers, all charging together.”

Here we have a proof how much the morale of soldiers may be
influenced by their immediate chief.

The Natal Advertiser in its account of the final scene said:—

“By a quarter past six the Devonshire Regiment, the Gordon
Highlanders, and the Manchester Regiment, with the Imperial Light
Horse, were in a position to storm the Boer camp from the enemy’s
front and left flank, and the signal for the bayonet charge was
sounded. Then was witnessed one of the most splendid pieces of
storming imaginable, the Devons taking the lead, closely followed by
the Gordons, the Manchesters, and the Light Horse, in the face of a
tremendous, killing fire, the rattle and roar of which betokened
frightful carnage…. A bugler boy of the 5th Lancers shot three
Boers with his revolver. He was afterwards carried round the camp
amid cheers.”

So many acts of gallantry were performed that they cannot all be
related. It is impossible, however, to allow the wondrous pluck of
Sergeant Kenneth M’Leod to go unrecorded. During the charge this
gallant Scot was twice struck, once in the arm and once in the side.
He however continued to pipe and advance with the Gordons to their
final rush. Presently came more bullets, smashing his drones, his
chanter, and his windbag, whereupon the splendid fellow had to give
in.

Perhaps the most heart-rending period was that following the last
gleam of daylight, when the Medical Staff went forth to do their
melancholy duty. All were armed with lanterns, which, shining like
pale glow-worms, made the dense gloom around more impenetrable
still. Yet, groping and shivering through the black horror of[Pg 30] the
night, they patiently pursued their ghastly task with zeal that was
truly magnificent. Dead, dying, wounded, were dotted all over the
veldt. There, bearded old Boers, boys, Britons in their prime, were
indiscriminately counted, collected, tended, the Field Hospital men
and Indian stretcher-bearers working incessantly and ungrudgingly
till dawn. Gruesome and heart-rending were the sights and scenes
around the camp-fires when such wounded as could crawl dragged
themselves towards their comrades. Pitiable the faces of the
survivors as news came in of gallant hearts that had ceased to beat.
A pathetic incident was witnessed in the grey gloom of the small
hours. One of the bearers chanced on an ancient hoary-headed Boer,
who was lying behind a rock supporting himself on his elbows. The
bearer approached warily, as many of the enemy were known to have
turned on those who went to their succour. This man, however, was
too weak from loss of blood to attempt to raise his rifle. Between
his dying gasps he begged a favour—would some one find his son, a
boy of thirteen, who had been fighting by his side when he fell. The
request was obeyed. The little lad, stone-dead, was discovered. He
was placed in the failing arms of his father. The unhappy old fellow
clasped the clay-cold form, and hugged it despairingly to himself,
and then, merciful Providence pitied him in his misery—his stricken
spirit went out to join his son.

An officer who was wounded, and who spent the night in the terrible
scene, thus described his own awful experiences: “I lay where I fell
for about three-quarters of an hour, when a doctor came and put a
field-dressing on my wound, gave me some brandy, put my helmet under
my head as a pillow, covered me with a Boer blanket which he had
taken from a dead man, and then went to look after some other poor
beggar. I shall never forget the horrors of that night as long as I
live. In addition to the agony which my wound gave me, I had two
sharp stones running into my back; I was soaked to the skin and
bitterly cold, but had an awful thirst; the torrents of rain never
stopped. On one side of me was a Gordon Highlander in raving
delirium, and on the other a Boer who had his leg shattered by a
shell, and who gave vent to the most heart-rending cries and groans.
War is a funny game, and no one can realise what its grim horrors
are till they see it in all its barbarous reality. I lay out in the
rain the whole of the night, and at daybreak was put into a doolie
by a doctor, and some natives carried me down to the station. The
ground was awfully rough, and they dropped me twice; I fainted both
times. I was sent down to Ladysmith in the hospital train; from the
station I was conveyed to the chapel (officers’ hospital) in a
bullock-cart, the jolting of which made me faint again. I was the
last officer taken in. I was then put to bed, and my wound was
dressed just seventeen hours after I was hit.[Pg 31] They then gave me
some beef-tea, which was the first food I had had for twenty-seven
hours.”

The amazing spirit of chivalry that animated all classes, general
officers, medical officers, chaplains, and even stretcher-bearers,
in this campaign has been the subject of much comment. It was
thought that modernity had rendered effete some of the sons of Great
Britain, and the war, if it should have done no other good, has
served to prove that times may have changed, but not the tough and
dauntless character of the men who have made the Empire what it is.

The following, from a Congregational minister of Durban, who had
volunteered to go to the front as honorary chaplain to the Natal
Mounted Rifles, in which corps many of his congregation enrolled, is
of immense interest. It gives us an insight into the inner core of
valour—the valour of those who, unarmed, share the dangers without
the intoxications of the fight. It runs:—

Among other heroes of Elandslaagte was Lieutenant Meiklejohn of the
Gordon Highlanders. This young officer, one of the “Dargai boys,”
helped the charge in an endeavour to embarrass the Boer flank.
Supported by a party of Gordons, so runs the narrative, Meiklejohn
waved his sword and cried out to his party hastily gathered round
him. But the Boer ranks were alert, and poured in a deadly fire on
the gallant band. Lieutenant Meiklejohn received three bullets
through his upper right arm, one through the right forearm, a finger
blown away, a bullet through the left thigh, two bullets through the
helmet, a “snick” in the neck, while his sword and scabbard were
literally shot to pieces. He has by now lost his right arm, but,
happily, being left-handed, it is hoped he may remain in the
profession he is so well calculated to adorn.[Pg 32]

A private soldier in the 2nd Battalion Gordon Highlanders recounted
an extraordinary personal experience. He said:—

THE RETREAT FROM DUNDEE

Owing to the Boers having posted their 15-centimetre gun on the
Impati for the purpose of shelling the camp and town, the troops and
inhabitants removed to a position some three miles south of Dundee
village. The movement was fraught with many discomforts. Rain fell
in torrents, making the roads a mass of slush and enveloping
everything in a thick mist, while provisions, which had been hastily
gathered together, were scarce. On the following day, Sunday, an
attempt was made to return to camp, but the Boer firing continued so
active that the project had to be abandoned. Thereupon, on Sunday
night the whole column, having first loaded four days’ supplies from
their old camp and set there lighted candles sufficient to cause
such an illumination as would suggest to the Boers an idea of
occupation, quietly stole away. No one exactly knew their
destination. At nine of the clock the Army Service Corps waggons
moved to the camp, were loaded, and by midnight commenced rumbling
along in the damp obscurity. The advance column, after passing
through Dundee, where it was joined by transport and rearguard,
proceeded along the Helpmakaar road on the way to Ladysmith.[Pg 33]

On Monday afternoon the first halt was called, but the rest was of
short duration, for at ten the column was again plodding along
through the miry roads in hourly dread lest the whole scheme should
be spoilt, and the Boers suddenly arrest the course of the
two-mile-long column.

And they had indeed good reason for alarm. They were forced to plod
through a narrow pass in the Biggarsberg range of mountains, so
narrow indeed that a hundred Boers might have effectually barred
their way. Here, through this perilous black cylinder of the hills,
they marched at dead of night. It took them between the hours of
half-past eleven till three, stumbling and squelching in the mire,
and knowing that should the enemy appear, should they but shoot one
of the oxen of the leading waggon of the convoy, and thus block the
cramped defile, all chance of getting safely through to Ladysmith
would be at an end. This was by no means a happy reflection to fill
men’s minds in the dripping, almost palpable, darkness of the night,
and the resolute spirit of the gallant fellows who unmurmuringly
stowed away all personal wretchedness and stuck manfully to their
grim duty is for ever to be marvelled at and admired. Fortunately
the Dutchmen, “slim” as they were, had not counted on the
possibility of this march being executed at all, still less of its
being executed in pitch darkness. They were caught napping, and the
party, who had left kit, provisions (except for the four days), and
everything behind them, who were now drenched to the skin in the
only clothes they possessed, at last reached Sunday River in safety.

Here they eagerly awaited an escort of the 5th Lancers, which had
been detached by Sir George White from Ladysmith to meet them.
These, to the great joy of the worn-out travellers, appeared on
Wednesday afternoon. On that evening the column again started off
for a last long wearisome tramp, the men, who had not been out of
their clothes for a week, being now ready to drop from sleeplessness
and exhaustion. But valiantly they held on. Not a word, not a
grumble. All had confidence in General Yule and his officers, who
shared with the men every hardship and every fatigue; each realised
his individual duty to make the very best of a very bad job, and
pluckily kept heart till the last moment. Torrents of rain fell,
making the night into one vast immensity of slough and pool, but the
stumbling, straining left, right, left, right, of the retreating men
continued ceaselessly through the weary hours. On Thursday morning,
the 26th, to their intense relief, they found themselves at last in
the long-looked-for camp at Ladysmith.

The excitement of arrival was almost too much for the exhausted,
fainting troops, but the cheers that went up from a thousand throats
brought light to their sleep-starved eyes and[Pg 34] warmth to their
chilled frames. There was rest at last—rest and safety, food and
warm covering, though of a more practical than artistic kind. The
Devons—who had just come grandly through the fight at Elandslaagte
and looted the Boer camp of innumerable saleable odds and ends—out
of their newly-gained wealth “stood treat.” In the joy of their
hearts each of the men subscribed sixpence, and the gallant Dublin
Fusiliers, the heroes of Glencoe, who, all unwashed and unshorn, now
looked like chimney-sweeps rather than the warriors they were, were
invited to a fine “square meal.” It is difficult to imagine the
condition of those battered braves after their week of hardship,
fighting, and privation, and sticklers for etiquette would have been
shocked at the manners and customs enforced by warlike conditions.
One who dined with the Dundee column gave the following graphic
description of the luxurious repast:—

“To begin with, there was no sort of furniture either in the
messroom or the anteroom. If you wanted to sit down, you did so on
the floor. We each got hold of a large tin mug, and dipped it into a
large tin saucepan of soup and drank it, spoons not existing. A
large lump of salt was passed round, and every one broke off a piece
with his fingers. Next you clawed hold of a piece of bread and a
chunk of tongue, and gnawed first one and then the other—knives and
forks there were none. This finished the dinner. Add to this two or
three tallow-candles stuck on a cocoa tin, and the fact that none of
the officers had shaved, or had had their clothes off for a week,
and had walked some forty-five miles through rivers and mud, and you
will have some idea of how the officers’ mess of one of the smartest
of Her Majesty’s foot regiments do for themselves in time of war.
Not a murmur or complaint was to be heard.”

Their state must certainly have been pitiable, for it will be
remembered that on the retirement from Dundee rations for four days
only were loaded, and provisions for two months, besides all
officers’ and men’s kit and hospital equipment, were left behind.

And, sad to say, so also were the wounded. It was necessary for
their future well-being to desert them. The men who had so
gloriously led to victory now found themselves stranded and in a
strange position—the vanquishers at the mercy of the vanquished!
Most melancholy of all must have been the plight of those unhappy
sufferers when they first learnt that their comrades were marching
farther and farther away, and that they, in all their helplessness,
must be left lonely—unloved, and perhaps untended—in charge of the
enemy. One dares not think of the agonies of those sad souls—the
nation’s invalids—bereft of kindly words and kindred smiles; one
cannot linger without a sense of emasculating weakness on the[Pg 35] sad
side-picture of battle that, in its dumb wretchedness, seems so much
more paralysing than the active horror of facing shot and shell in
company with glorious comrades in arms. Let us hope there was some
one to whisper to them, to persuade them that all was for the best;
that the safety of their sick selves and their sound mates depended
on this retreat, this wondrous retreat which, when the tale of the
war in its entirety shall be told, will shine like a dazzling light
among records whose brilliancy in the history of British
achievements cannot be excelled. Perhaps, too, they had faith to
inspire them with the certainty that all that they had suffered in
that dark hour for their country and for the weal of their fellows,
would be remembered to their glory in the good times to come.

While the retreat was going forward Glencoe’s gallant hero was
breathing his last. After hopelessly lingering for three days,
General Sir W. Penn Symons passed away. He expired in the hands of
the enemy at Dundee hospital on Monday the 23rd of October. The next
day he was quietly buried with profound signs of mourning.

SIR W. PENN SYMONS—GLENCOE

By the death of Major-General Sir William Penn Symons, the British
army lost a brilliant and distinguished soldier, and a man of great
valour and courage. He came of a Cornish family, the founder of
which was a Norman knight who came over with William the Conqueror.
The eldest son of the late William Symons, Recorder of Saltash, he
was born in 1843, and in 1863 joined the South Wales Borderers—the
old 24th Regiment. He became lieutenant in 1866, captain in 1878,
major in 1881, lieutenant-colonel in 1886, and colonel in 1887.

His first experience of active service was in 1877, when the
Borderers took the field against the Galekas. In the Zulu War of
1879 he served with distinction, but was not present at the battle
of Isandlwana, being away from his regiment on special duty. In 1885
he served as Deputy-Assistant-Adjutant and Quarter-Master-General,
organising and commanding the Mounted Infantry in the Burmese
Expedition. Being honourably mentioned in dispatches for his
services with the Chin Field Force, he received a brevet-colonelcy.
In 1889-90 he was given a brigade in the Chin-Lusha Expedition, was
again mentioned in despatches, made a C.B., and received the thanks
of the Government of India. He commanded a brigade of the Waziristan
Field Force in 1894-95 with like distinction, but he will best be
remembered in connection with the campaign on the North-West
Frontier of India in 1897-98, after which he was made a K.C.B. In
1898 he gave up his[Pg 36] appointment in India and took command of the
British troops in Natal.

He was one of the best shots in the army, his military hobby in fact
being musketry, though he was also a great authority on the subject
of mounted infantry. He was a keen sportsman, an excellent linguist.
He was highly respected by all who knew him. As an evidence of how
he was regarded by his brother officers, one may quote from the
telegram which was sent from Sir G. White to the War Office on the
morrow of the battle of Glencoe. The communication said: “The
important success is due to his great courage, fine generalship, and
gallant example, and the confidence he gave to the troops under
him.”

Mr. Winston Spencer Churchill’s remarks about him, in a letter to
the Morning Post, show how fully he was appreciated for his social
as well as for his military qualities.

“So Sir Penn Symons is killed! Well, no one would have laid down his
life more gladly in such a cause. Twenty years ago the merest chance
saved him from the massacre at Isandhlwana, and Death promoted him
in an afternoon from subaltern to senior captain. Thenceforward his
rise was rapid. He commanded the First Division of the Tirah
Expeditionary Force among the mountains with prudent skill. His
brigades had no misfortunes; his rearguards came safely into camp.
In the spring of 1898, when the army lay around Fort Jumrood,
looking forward to a fresh campaign, I used often to meet him. Every
one talked of Symons, of his energy, of his jokes, of his
enthusiasm. It was Symons who had built a racecourse on the stony
plain; who had organised the Jumrood Spring Meeting; who won the
principal event himself, to the delight of the private soldiers,
with whom he was intensely popular; who, moreover, was to be first
and foremost if the war with the tribes broke out again; and who was
entrusted with much of the negotiations with their jirgas. Dinner
with Symons in the mud tower of Jumrood Fort was an experience. The
memory of many tales of sport and war remains. At the end the
General would drink the old Peninsular toasts: ‘Our Men,’ ‘Our
Women,’ ‘Our Religions,’ ‘Our Swords,’ ‘Ourselves,’ ‘Sweethearts and
Wives,’ and ‘Absent Friends’—one for every night in the week. The
night I dined it was ‘Our Men.’ May the State in her necessities
find others like him!”

THE BATTLE OF REITFONTEIN

On the morning of the 23rd, thirty men of the 18th Hussars rode into
camp at Ladysmith, after having had some exciting adventures. The
facts were these. On the arrival at Glencoe[Pg 37] camp of the news of the
Boer defeat at Elandslaagte, General Yule had detached a force to
cut off the flying Boers. Unfortunately, the Hussars who were sent
out for this purpose were themselves cut off, but at last, with the
enemy at their heels, succeeded in fighting their way down a
dangerous pass, and eventually effecting their escape. This, too,
without the loss of a man!

To return to the great retreat. While General Yule was falling back
to effect a junction with General White, the latter officer
conceived a brilliant plan to ensure the safety of the returning
force. He was aware that Yule’s column was marching via the
Helpmakaar road, Beith, and the Waschbank and Sunday River Valleys,
and therefore, to cover the movement, he sent out a strong force to
the west of the road. The force consisted of the 21st, 42nd, and
53rd Field Batteries, 1st Devons, 1st Liverpools, 1st Gloucesters,
2nd King’s Royal Rifles (just arrived from Maritzburg), 19th
Hussars, 5th Lancers, Natal Carabiniers, Border Mounted Rifles, and
Imperial Light Horse.

The enemy was already strongly posted on the kopjes a mile and a
half west of the railway and two miles south-east of Modder Spruit
station, in all, some seven miles from Ladysmith. It was necessary,
therefore, to keep him well occupied, and divert his attention from
the Dundee column. On both sides firing soon commenced, but our guns
were promptly silenced. Then the British took up a position
three-quarters of a mile west of the railway, and for some twenty
minutes kept up a heavy artillery fire supplemented by sharp volleys
from the infantry. Before long the kopjes were cleared and the
object of the British attack accomplished. The main body of the
Boers retired in the direction of Besters, a point to the south of
Ladysmith, where, in the circumstances, it was more advisable for
them to be. In this battle a great deal of sharpshooting, especially
at officers, took place on the part of the foe, who also resorted to
their old tactics of discharging their guns and running away, again
discharging them and again running—a trick they had been mightily
fond of in their dealings with the Zulus, and which was calculated
to tire out the fleetest antagonists. Colonel Wilford of the 1st
Gloucester Regiment was mortally wounded. Sir George White had a
narrow escape, as the Boers turned their artillery on the Staff, and
their first shell came screaming within fifteen yards of the
General. Captain Douglas, 42nd Battery, had also a marvellous
escape, his horse having been wounded and his haversack ripped open
by a splinter. In this smart engagement, as Sir George White in his
official statement declared, “Our side confined its efforts to
occupying the enemy and hitting him hard enough to prevent his
taking action against General Yule’s column.” The manœuvre, as[Pg 38]
we know, was eminently successful, but was not executed without cost
to those who assisted in it. The following was the official list of
the officers killed and wounded:—

The Boers, triumphant, entered Dundee about the same time as General
Yule and his worn-out troops were being enthusiastically greeted in
Ladysmith. They attacked the Dundee Town Guard, putting it to
flight, and turned many civilians out of their houses. Later, they
mounted two big guns at Intintanyone, some 4500 yards from the
Ladysmith camp, and their energies pointed to further activities.

LADYSMITH

Here it may be as well to review the geographical position of this
now famous place. Ladysmith, as a position for purposes of defence,
is very badly situated. It lies in the cup of the hills, and stony
eminences command it almost in a circle. Towards the north is
Pepworth’s Ridge, a flat-headed hill fringed at the base with mimosa
bushes. North-east is Lombard’s Kop, which is flanked by a family of
smaller kopjes. South of this hill and east of Ladysmith is a
table-headed hill called Umbulwana. South of this eminence runs the
railway through the smaller stations of Nelthorpe and Pieters
towards Colenso. To the west of Pepworth’s Ridge is Surprise Hill,
and other irregular hills which rise from four to five hundred feet
on all sides. The place is watered by the Klip River, which enters
the valley between the hills on the west, twists gracefully in front
of the town, and turns away among the eastern hills before making
its way to the south. The position, commanded as it was on every
hand, was not an enviable one, but the glorious fellows who had
fought in two brilliant engagements were in no wise disconcerted.

Yet all were on the alert, for the Boers had now closed in round the
town, and an engagement was hourly expected. A little desultory
fighting took place, but when the British troops advanced, those of
the Orange Free State at once retired towards the border. The town,
however, was somewhat harassed for want of water, owing to the Boers
having cut off the main pipes. The inconvenience was merely
temporary, as the Klip River, which runs[Pg 39] through the main
position, was fairly pure, and there were wells which could be made
serviceable. A captive balloon was inflated by the Royal Engineers,
and was used for the purpose of making observations, much to the
annoyance of the Dutchmen, who had securely perched themselves at
points of vantage on the surrounding hills. They were at this time
on the north and east, having laagered south-east of Modder Spruit
and Vlaak Plaats, some seven miles from Ladysmith, and were
preparing to arrange a closely-linked chain of earthworks that
should effectually surround the garrison. An exchange of shots now
and then, however, was all that took place for a while between the
contending parties, though both sides were evidently gathering
themselves together for some definite move. The situation was thus
described by a captive in Ladysmith:—

“Saturday and Sunday have passed without any demonstration being
made by the enemy. The camp has again assumed its condition of
readiness and watchfulness. On Saturday afternoon it was rumoured
that General Joubert, with the commando encamped at Sunday River,
was experiencing difficulty in transporting the 40-pounders across
the spruit, which was swollen after the heavy rains. Small parties
of Boers are constantly on the alert, and are harassing the British
outposts.

“Scarcely a day passes without the outlying pickets being fired
upon. The latest reports say that the enemy are gathered in
considerable force on Dewdrop Farm.

“Great excitement has been caused in the Artillery camp by the
capture of a supposed spy, who was caught in the act of tampering
with the guns. The man had eluded the vigilance of the sentry, and
had opened the breech of one of the 15-pounders when he was noticed.
He was promptly arrested. When asked what he was doing, he said he
was a lieutenant in the 18th Battery. Questioned further, he
contradicted himself, and said that it was quite by accident that he
opened the breech. He admitted that he belonged to Johannesburg. He
was marched off in custody of the guard. The sequel of the story has
not been made public.

“No camp followers are allowed, and all here have been ordered to
leave. The enemy are now undoubtedly closing round Ladysmith. A
large commando is reported to be on the Helpmakaar road, and a large
camp has been formed between the Harrismith Railway Bridge and
Potgieter’s Farm. The camp on Dewdrop Farm extends for four miles.
The enemy have an exceptional number of waggons. The Boer patrols
are very venturesome; they have approached within three and a half
miles of the town, and one party actually removed carcasses ready
dressed for consumption from within the slaughtering lines.”[Pg 40]

The prospect was far from cheering, particularly as Sir George White
was well aware that his field-guns were ineffective against the
powerful guns of position which the enemy were handling with
unpleasant dexterity. At this critical period the united forces of
Ladysmith and Glencoe only amounted to some 10,000 men, more than
half of whom were infantry. The General, however, put the best face
he could on the matter, telegraphed home for big guns—and waited!

General Joubert now expressed his opinions on the causes of the war.
His ideas, published in the German journals, were of interest as
showing the sentiments of the opposite camp:—

General Joubert then protested that the Boers were fighting merely
for the freedom of their own “narrower” Fatherland, and not with a
view to the destruction of British preponderancy in South Africa. He
acknowledged the bravery of the British soldiers, but imagined that
hardships and deprivations would so demoralise them that they would
be unable to hold out against an enemy superior in numbers.

THE BATTLE OF LOMBARD’S KOP

Towards the end of October Sir George White decided that something
must be done to protect his line of communication with the south.
The Boers were spreading out in crescent form and drawing gradually
nearer to the town. On the north were troops commanded by General
Joubert. On the west was a Free State commando, and on the east was
General Lucas Meyer, who owed us a grudge after the events of Talana
Hill. Reinforced by troops from General Erasmus, he now desired to
press towards the railway with a view to seizing it at some point
south of the town. It was necessary at all costs to put a stop to
this scheme. Colonel Ian Hamilton with an Infantry Brigade was
therefore despatched on the 27th to Lombard’s Kop, a hill some five
miles east of Ladysmith. There he bivouacked for the night, with a
view to clearing the enemy out at the point of the bayonet on the
morrow. He never brought his plan into execution, however, for Sir
George White, having been informed of the size of Meyer’s force,
ordered him to fall back on the town. On Sunday the 29th it was
discovered that the Boers were intrenched in lines that extended
over twenty miles, while “Long Tom,” their six-inch gun, was perched
on Pepworth Hill, its big ominous muzzle being situated some 7500
yards to the north of Ladysmith. In addition to this formidable
weapon, field-guns with a range of some 8000 yards were posted about
in well-concealed positions. For the protection of our line of
communication it was necessary that the enemy, though three times as
strong as the British force, should be dispersed, and that night, at
half-past ten o’clock, Colonel Hamilton again set out with three
battalions, the Devons,[Pg 42] the Gordons, the Manchesters, and a Brigade
Division of Artillery. The night was dark but clear, and the troops
marched along the Newcastle Road to Limit Hill, a strong kopje some
three miles north of Ladysmith, and half-way between that town and
Pepworth Hill. There they bivouacked for the night. While this party
was moving as described, a small force under Colonel Carleton,
composed of four and a half companies of the Gloucestershire
Regiment and six companies of the Royal Irish Fusiliers and No. 10
Mountain Battery, was moving towards Nicholson’s Nek with a view of
seizing it. But of Colonel Carleton’s column anon.

Map of Ladysmith and Surrounding Heights

On Colonel Ian Hamilton’s right flank, towards Lombard’s Kop, was
Colonel Grimwood, with the 1st and 2nd King’s Royal Rifles,[Pg 43] the
Liverpools, Leicesters, and Dublin Fusiliers, three Field-Batteries,
and the Natal Volunteer Artillery. On the extreme right, when day
broke, was General French with a Cavalry Brigade and some
volunteers. The idea was, that while Colonel Grimwood was shelling
the Boer position to the north of Lombard’s Kop, General French
should prevent any attempt to turn his right; the enemy’s artillery
silenced, Colonel Grimwood was to drive him along the ridge running
to Pepworth, and, under cover of the British guns, press the Boers
towards their centre. Meanwhile our centre, under Colonel Hamilton,
was to attack a hill where the enemy was in force, rout him and join
in the general scheme, while Colonel Carleton protected the centre
from a flank movement. Unfortunately “the best laid schemes o’ mice
and men gang aft agley,” and General White’s admirable scheme
failed, as we shall learn. An artillery duel began operations, and
this continued for two long hours, while the warm spring morning
developed, and the Boers, who had been warned of our plans and had
changed their position during the night, were laughing in their
sleeves at the capital surprise they had prepared. They had drawn
off their men from the point that was to have been the objective of
our centre, and extending and reinforcing their left, were calmly
waiting our attack. The artillery duel continued till seven o’clock,
our batteries with great difficulty searching out the enemy’s
position. Colonel Grimwood, with two battalions of the King’s Royal
Rifles, held the kopjes and ridges in front of Farquhar’s Farm,
while mounted infantry and troopers of the 18th Hussars, supported
by the Liverpools and Leicesters, were posted on the hills on the
right. Behind them came the artillery, who directed their fire at
the hill above the farm, where the enemy was supposed to be
intrenched.

The Boers, who in great hordes had streamed from the hills like a
mountain torrent and concealed themselves in the surrounding ridges,
now made all Colonel Grimwood’s plans impossible. He seemed, indeed,
in danger of being annihilated by sheer force of superior numbers,
when troops from the centre were pushed forward to his support. A
smart engagement ensued, the Boers making energetic efforts to
penetrate the line between the Infantry and Artillery, while the
53rd Battery changed front to meet the attack and the 5th Lancers
struggled to form up on the left of the rifle regiments. But the
enemy’s automatic quick-firing gun vomited forth its death-dealing
steel with such persistence that the cavalry was forced to retire at
a gallop. The gunners again came to the rescue, and six
field-batteries, spread over in a semicircular front of
three-quarters of a mile, sent their shrapnel over the heads of the
infantry to crash on the ridges occupied by the Boers.

At this critical moment, when the turmoil of warfare was at its[Pg 44]
hottest, and when our gallant troops were struggling unsuccessfully
to hold their own against an overwhelming number of the enemy, a
message came from Sir George White to retire. Some sort of a panic
had taken place in the town, owing partly to the fact that the Boers
were threatening it from another quarter, partly to the persistent
shelling of “Long Tom,” which, as some one described, was like a
voluble virago, determined to have the last word! All efforts to
silence the horrible weapon had failed, and for some three or four
hours it had sent its eighty-four-pound shells shrieking into the
town. There was no resource but to fall back, which was done to the
appalling detonations of the Boer guns all going at once, while
“Long Tom,” like some prominent solo-singer, dominated the whole
clamouring orchestra. To silence him and to cover the retreat, a
Lieutenant of the Powerful, in charge of a gun drawn by a team of
oxen, went out on the road between Limit Hill and Ladysmith. Before
the gun could be got in position, however, “Long Tom” had spotted
it—barked at it—overturned it, and killed several of the oxen. But
his triumph was short-lived. Another rival performer had come on the
scene, namely, the twelve-and-a-half-pounder of the Naval Brigade.
It came, saw, and conquered, knocking out “Long Tom” at the fourth
shot!

Types of Arms—The Creusot Quick-Firing Field Gun, or
“Long Tom”

The whole action of the Naval Brigade reads like a fairy story.
Ladysmith on the point of exhaustion, with all its troops engaged
and no big guns wherewith to meet the terrific assaults of the
six-inch cannon on Pepworth Hill, was almost in despair. At the
eleventh hour up came the Naval Brigade under Captain the Hon.
Hedworth Lambton of H.M.S. Powerful with 280 Bluejackets, two 4.7
guns, and four twelve-and-a-half-pounders. Then the affair was done.
It was just one, two, three, and away—for the fourth
splendidly-directed shot saved the situation.[Pg 45]

In this engagement great feats of daring were accomplished, feats
which have now become so general that we have almost ceased to gasp
in wonder at the heroism of the “mere man” of the nineteenth
century. When the regiments were forced to retire from the
death-laden region of Lombard’s Kop, Major Abdy of the 53rd Battery
R.A., dashing across the plain under a storm of shells from a
quick-firing gun, brought his battery between the enemy and the
straggling mass of retreating soldiers. Horse and man rolled over,
but the fire of the 53rd never slackened till the imminence of
danger was past. The correspondent of the Standard, who was
present, said: “When the moment came for the battery to fall back,
the limber of one of the guns had been smashed and five horses in
one team had been killed. Captain Thwaites sent back for another
team and waggon limber, and brought back the disabled gun under a
concentrated fire from the enemy, who were not more than four
hundred yards distant. Lieutenant Higgins, of the same battery, also
distinguished himself for gallantry. One of the guns was overturned
in a donga. In the face of a close and heavy fire the Lieutenant
succeeded in righting the gun and bringing it into a place of
safety.”

The following is a list of killed and wounded among the officers who
were engaged on Lombard’s Kop:—

THE DISASTER OF NICHOLSON’S NEK

The circumstances which attended the movements of Colonel Carleton’s
column are even now somewhat fraught with mystery. He carried out
the night march unmolested until within two miles of Nicholson’s
Nek. Then some boulders, loosened evidently for the purpose, rolled
down the hill, and a sudden crackling roll of musketry stampeded the
infantry ammunition mules. The alarm became infectious, with the
result that the battery mules also broke loose from their leaders,
practically carrying with them the whole of the gun equipment. The
greater part of the regimental small-arm ammunition reserve was
similarly lost. In consequence of this[Pg 46] misfortune, Colonel
Carleton’s small force, after a plucky fight and heavy loss, had to
capitulate. The real truth about the affair may never be known, but
for the lamentable result Sir George White in an official dispatch,
with heroic courage—greater perhaps than any required by warriors
in the field—took upon himself the entire blame. The General knew
well that the failure of his programme in the engagement of
Lombard’s Kop had inevitably brought about the disaster to the
isolated force.

The list of officers taken prisoners by Boers was as follows:—

Some details of their misfortune were given by the prisoners in
Pretoria, and they serve to throw more light on the subject.

Colonel Carleton, as we know, was sent towards Nicholson’s Nek to
hold it and prevent the Free Staters from coming to the assistance
of the other Boers. Having lost his reserve ammunition and the water
of all the battery through the stampede of the mules, he set to work
to construct a defensive position. But stones were scarce and the
defences were slender, and by the light of dawn his position was
revealed. At this time a long-range fire was opened from three hills
to south and west, dropping from 1500 yards into the position, and
taking it both in flank and in rear. From his observations Colonel
Carleton discovered that General White’s scheme had failed—that it
was being abandoned. In consequence of this failure the whole Boer
force was enabled to swarm from all directions towards the isolated
column. Firing fierce and incessant, exhausted the already worn-out
Irish Fusiliers, while the advanced companies of the Gloucesters
were severely mauled by the Martini bullets of the enemy. The hill
was now completely surrounded, the ammunition expended; still
Colonel Carleton had no idea of giving in. The bayonet was left, and
by the bayonet he meant to stand or fall. Suddenly a wounded officer
ordered the white flag to be raised. It was then hoisted, but
uncertainty prevailed as to the authority for[Pg 47] the exhibition of the
flag, and some of our men still continued to fire. However, the
mischief was done, and the surrender was merely a matter of moments.

The most vivid account of the disaster, from an outsider’s point of
view, was given by the Times special correspondent at Ladysmith.
He wrote:—

An officer of the Gloucestershire Regiment described the affair
thus:—

An officer of the Royal Irish Fusiliers, writing from Staatsmodel
Schule, Pretoria, said:—

As this letter had evidently to pass through the hands of the prison
censor, we may take the eulogies of the Boers for what they were
worth! However, it is but just to own that there are Boers and
Boers. For instance, it is a fact that Captain Gerard Rice, who was
wounded in the ankle and unable to move, offered a Boer
half-a-sovereign to carry him off the field. The man refused the
money, but performed the action with great kindness.

Father L. Matthews, chaplain of the Royal Irish Fusiliers, who was
captured at Nicholson’s Nek on October 31 and subsequently released,
gave the following version of the disaster:—

Father Matthews puts the case mildly. Some of the officers of the
Irish Fusiliers were so exasperated at the exhibition of the white
flag, that they set to work and smashed their swords rather than
give them up.[Pg 51]

The final figures of the losses sustained at Nicholson’s Nek were as
follows: The total of missing of the Gloucesters and Royal Irish
Fusiliers was 843. Thirty-two of the Gloucesters, 10 of the
Fusiliers, and 10 of the Mountain Battery were found dead on the
field, while 150 wounded were brought into camp at Ladysmith.
Between 70 and 100 of the men escaped and got back to camp.

THE SIEGE OF LADYSMITH

It was now found necessary to issue a proclamation giving all
strangers the option of leaving the town at twenty-four hours’
notice. In spite of this notice, however, many civilians remained.
Meanwhile, shells continued to drop uproariously, if harmlessly,
into the town, while the balloon corps worked steadily in their task
of locating the hostile guns. The enemy objected to that original
form of spy, and aimed at him many a shot, but, fortunately, without
effect. The Naval Brigade, always animated, active, and efficient,
completed the mounting of the long-range guns which were to add to
the safety of the place and the discomfiture of its besiegers. On
the whole, the position was becoming somewhat serious, particularly
for those whose nerves were unaccustomed to the uproar of diurnal
thunderstorms. Lord Wolseley has somewhere said that “the effect of
artillery fire is more moral than actual; it kills but very few, but
its appalling noise, the way it tears down trees, knocks houses into
small pieces, and mutilates the human frame when it does hit,
strikes terror into all but the stoutest hearts.” It may be imagined
that the early days of this experience must have been somewhat
embarrassing, though later on, so attuned became the nerves, even of
women, that they engaged in shopping in the midst of bombardment,
quite unmoved.

On 2nd November at 2.30 p.m. the telegraphic communication with
Ladysmith was interrupted, but it was undecided whether the Boers
had got sufficiently far south to promote the interruption or
whether the wires had been cut by Dutch sympathisers or small
scouting parties of the enemy. The Boers applied for an armistice
with a view to burying their dead, their real object most probably
being, as in many previous cases of a similar nature, to obtain time
for refitting their heavy guns. This request was refused, but they
were permitted to bury their slain under a flag of truce. Meanwhile,
General Joubert’s force received large reinforcements of Free State
burghers under the command of Lucas Meyer, and additional commandoes
from the Middleburgh and Leydenburg districts under Schalkburger
were expected.

After this the siege of Ladysmith began in real earnest. “Long Tom,”
though temporarily incapacitated, soon resumed his volubility,[Pg 52] and
was assisted by another of his calibre nicknamed “Slim Piet.”
Curiously enough, the first house hit during the siege was a
commodious bungalow-shaped residence with large verandah belonging
to Mr. Carter, the author of the now well-known “Narrative of the
Boer War.” The owner fortunately had left before the bombardment,
and the premises were then occupied by nurses.

Types of Arms—12-Pounder Naval Gun on Improvised
Carriage

Types of Arms—4.7-Inch Naval Gun on Improvised
Mounting

Lieut. Frederick Egerton, of the Powerful, who was wounded by a
shell in the left knee and right foot, was promoted to the rank of
Commander in Her Majesty’s fleet for special services with the
forces in South Africa. But his promotion came too late. He expired
after some hours of suffering.[4]

The Boers by now had established batteries on Grobler’s Kloof, [Pg 53]a
commanding eminence from whence they could attack both Ladysmith on
the north and Colenso on the south. Women and children vacated the
place, and the trains coming in and out had to run the gantlet of
the Boer fire, both Nordenfeldt quick-firing guns and Mauser rifles
being brought to bear on the refugees. The Boers, however, continued
to salute the town without much effect, while the naval gunners
replied with telling emphasis. They succeeded in dismounting the
Boers’ 40-pounder which had been so comfortably posted on Pepworth’s
Hill.

The carriages and platforms on which the naval guns were mounted at
Ladysmith, and which proved so important a feature in promoting the
defence of the place, were specially designed by Captain Percy Scott
of the cruiser Terrible. In regard to this officer’s
resourcefulness the Times expressed an opinion that is worthy of
remembrance:—

“Captain Percy Scott, of the Terrible, came to the rescue, adding
one more to the numerous instances in which this country has owed to
individual resource and initiative its escape from the disasters
invited by the incompetence of the War Office. There is no need to
inquire just now into the balance of political and military
considerations which determined the policy of making a stand at
Ladysmith. It is enough that that policy was definitely adopted in
ample time to allow of providing Ladysmith with the long-range guns
which its position renders peculiarly necessary, dominated as it is
by hills on three sides. Why were such guns not provided? Why was it
left to fortunate accident to furnish the garrison at the very last
moment with the means of defence? The conclusions of German military
science, as will have been noted by all who read the interesting
account of German manœuvres which we published yesterday, are all
in favour of saving the lives of the infantry by a very free use of
artillery at long ranges. The country around Ladysmith seems to be
one that calls loudly for even a more lavish artillery equipment
than might normally suffice. Yet, in spite of science and of
common-sense, the Ladysmith garrison, occupying a predetermined
position open to artillery fire from all sides, was left absolutely
destitute of long-range guns, and none too well provided with
field-artillery. But that Captain Scott proved himself able, just in
time, to improvise out of the rough materials at hand an effective
gun-carriage, there would have been nothing to prevent the Boers
from using their big guns at half the distance they have actually
had to keep.”

At this time British troops were withdrawn from Colenso and[Pg 54] moved
farther south, and Boer armies continued to close round Ladysmith.
Isimbulwana Hill, lying east of Ladysmith, was taken possession of,
and a force advancing from Dewdrop, on the west of the town, moved
south towards Colenso, and there on high ground posted its guns.
Yet, in spite of this, the town showed itself to be “all alive and
kicking.” Though cut off from the telegraph, it sent out
pigeon-posts; though engirdled by Boers, it made sorties of the most
animated description, and literally laughed at the hint of
surrender. On the 2nd, Colonel Brocklehurst made an attack on the
enemy’s laagers with a force of cavalry, mounted infantry, and
mounted volunteers, surprising the Dutchmen and driving them back
with comparatively small loss, and on the following day fighting
lasted for some hours between the British cavalry, supported by
field-artillery, Imperial Light Horse, and Natal Mounted Volunteers,
and the Republicans. Many shells were pitched into the town, and an
artillery duel rampaged with such relentless vigour that the general
sensation to those who remained enclosed in the town was as though a
thunderstorm with earthquake was passing over the place. Nothing
worse happened, and the enemy for a while were driven back to their
camp and some thirty or more prisoners were taken. Major Charles
Kincaid, 1st Royal Irish Fusiliers, with nine wounded prisoners, was
exchanged by the Boers for eight of their countrymen in similar
plight. Others of them were not fit to travel. The enemy continued
active, replacing disabled guns with new ones and dragging fresh
powerful weapons to bear on the situation. On the 4th of November
they announced their annexation of Upper Tugela, and a
counter-proclamation of the nature already quoted was issued by the
Governor.

A large commando of the enemy commenced the bombardment of Colenso,
and the troops forming the garrison of that place fell back on
Estcourt, where was stationed a force of considerable strength. By
“considerable strength” it must be understood that the force was
sufficiently strong for purposes of defence, though not for purposes
of offence. As a matter of fact, the force in Natal was not, and has
not since been, sufficiently strong for attack of a foe in such
powerfully intrenched positions. From beginning to end our military
commanders on that side of the theatre of war were sorely
handicapped by the tardy recognition by the Home Government of the
gravity of the situation. But here it is now desirable that
something should be said of the early history of the towns of
Mafeking and Kimberley, which, like Ladysmith, were by this time
almost completely isolated, rails and telegraph wires having been
cut around both places respectively.

[Pg 55]

CHAPTER II

THE SIEGE OF MAFEKING

President Kruger’s Ultimatum having been accepted in its full
significance, General Cronje crossed the border and the telegraph
wires to Mafeking were cut. Mafeking is a smart little town on the
Bechuanaland Railway. It stands about eight miles from the Transvaal
border, about 200 miles north of Kimberley, and some 875 miles from
Cape Town. It is the headquarters of the Bechuanaland Border Police,
a crack corps, whose every member is thoroughly wide-awake and well
versed in the niceties of the guerilla style of warfare favoured of
the Boers. In the town is the “Surrey Hotel” and others; English,
Dutch, and Wesleyan churches; a cricket-ground and a racecourse. Its
supplies, in time of peace, are drawn from Dutch farms situated in
the Marico Valley, while its pure water is drawn from the springs at
Rooi Grond in the Transvaal territory.

Mafeking itself is less than a mile square. The railroad, running
north and south, takes a westerly bend as it crosses the Molopo
River some 300 yards south of the town. In this westerly direction
is a native Stadt, a constellation of mushroom huts wherein the
blacks congregate. To east, north, and west the surrounding country
is flat; elsewhere it rises and affords a certain amount of cover.
Towards the south-east is Sir Charles Warren’s old fort, named
Cannon Kopje, which was viewed as the key of the position and
promptly rendered impregnable. In the north-west corner of the town
was the railway station, now useless; on the north-east, the
convent; on the south-east, Ellis House; and south-west, the Pound,
near which were the quarters of the British South African Police.
The population of the town consisted of some 2000 whites, while in
the Stadt, owing to the presence of native refugees, there were
about 7000 blacks.

On the outbreak of hostilities, Colonel Baden-Powell, who had been
sent out on special service to South Africa to report on the
defences of Rhodesia, applied himself at once to face a situation
which made demands on all his extensive capabilities. In the very
early days of the investment he got guns into position and made
dashing sorties, determining to show the besiegers that they would
not have what in popular phrase is known as “a walk over.” So[Pg 56] great
was the versatility of this officer, that, while these energetic
measures for the protection of those around him were going forward,
he yet managed to correct and send home proofs of a “Manual on
Scouting,” a work at the moment most interesting and precious to the
military man, while to the layman it makes as good reading as the
“Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.” In Mafeking was also Major Lord
Edward Cecil (Grenadier Guards), D.S.O., the fourth son of the Prime
Minister—whose activity and energy were remarkable, even in a
community where those qualities were ubiquitous—and Captain Gordon
Wilson (Royal Horse Guards), with his wife, Lady Sarah Wilson, a
lady of much enterprise, to whose energies the garrison owed not a
little. Among others there were Colonel Hore (South Staffordshire
Regiment), Major Godley (Royal Dublin Fusiliers), Captain Marsh
(Royal West Kent Regiment), Captain Vernon (King’s Royal Rifles),
Captain FitzClarence (Royal Fusiliers), Lord Charles
Cavendish-Bentinck (9th Lancers), the Hon. H. Hanbury-Tracy (Royal
Horse Guards), Lieut. Singleton (Highland Light Infantry), Captain
the Hon. D. Marsham (4th Bedfordshire Regiment), Captain Pechell
(3rd King’s Royal Rifles), and Major Anderson (R.A.M.C.). There were
in addition several Colonial officers who proved themselves the soul
of activity—notably Captain Goodyear, Captain Nesbitt, V.C.,
Lieuts. Paton and Murchison, and several others. Colonel Vyvyen and
Major Panzera also worked like Trojans to secure the safety of the
town. Major Baillie of the Morning Post made himself useful in
every capacity. Later on he forwarded a description of the garrison
which gave a good idea of the splendid plan of organisation adopted.
He said:—

Operations began on the 12th with an episode that cannot afford to
be forgotten. It was discovered that two trucks of dynamite were in
the station yard, and it was at once decided, for the safety of the
population, that they must be removed. An engine was, therefore,
despatched in charge of a plucky driver (Perry) for the purpose of
conveying the trucks into the open, where they might explode without
danger to the town. While he was engaged in the work of deporting
the destructive material, the enemy suddenly appeared and commenced
to fire. Perry, with the utmost coolness, a coolness which in the
circumstances was nothing less than heroism, uncoupled his engine,
and leaving the trucks to their fate, steamed back to the town.
Before he could reach his destination, however, the shock of an
awful detonation greeted his ears. The Boers had again fired on the
trucks, believing them to be full of passengers, and, as a natural
consequence, the dynamite had exploded!

The garrison, numbering from 800 to 1000, now began to furbish
itself up, to arm and practise with the rifle. The old forts round
the place were put into repair, and the armoured train, with a Maxim
gun and a Nordenfeldt, was made ready for coming excursions. Nothing
was neglected. It was well known that the Boers looked upon the town
as their personal property, and when it came to fighting, meant to
make it so—if they could! The two available regiments, the
Protectorate Regiment and the Mounted Police, spent most of their
time manœuvring, with a view to awakening the intelligent
interests of the ranks and instructing the men on the nature of the
ground in the vicinity. Colonel Baden-Powell lost no opportunity of
preparing for the gallant Cronje, and, in order to show that he did
not mean to be caught napping, some nights were passed by the
garrison in their day kit.

On the 12th October an armoured train that was escorting two light
guns of old pattern from the Cape to Mafeking was seized by the
Boers, who had torn up the rails at Kraalpan. They pounded the
machine with artillery, and captured it with guns and men in
charge[Pg 58]—all, save the engine-driver, being made prisoners.
Lieutenant Nesbitt was wounded and the driver lost five fingers. The
latter escaped through hiding himself in the sand and thus avoiding
observation. In Mafeking itself the Sisters of the Roman Catholic
Convent busied themselves. These noble women refused to leave the
place, electing to remain face to face with danger in order to nurse
the sick. Many of the houses were converted into hospitals, all the
streets were barred with waggons, and even the inhabitants of the
town were supplied with rifles and taught the use of them. The
telegraph wires were now cut at Maribogo, some forty miles south of
Mafeking. The bridge that crossed the Molopo River above Mafeking
was next blown up by the Boers with tremendous uproar. Still the
inhabitants were not dismayed. They had implicit confidence in their
commander and worked incessantly. As a defensive position,
Kimberley, whose history will be told later, had the advantage of
Mafeking. The refuse heaps from the mines at the former place served
as natural fortifications. But Mafeking was in one way fairly
secure: its troops, though few, were efficient, and owing to its not
being the abode of Mr. Rhodes, it was no longer looked upon by the
Boers as the most attractive prize of the war. Besides this, Colonel
Baden-Powell’s plans of defence were very complete.

The town was divided into sections, each one of which had its
separate arrangements for defence. The perimeter was about six miles
in circumference. Huge earthworks were thrown up. Shelters were
built, with panellings and roofings of corrugated iron. Colonel
Baden-Powell had decided to hold the town, and declared that if he
should hold it at all, his grip should be a firm one. For himself,
he constructed a bomb-proof bureau, where his literary work could
safely be pursued, if need be, to the accompaniment of a score of
guns, and round him were telephonic communications with each of his
outposts. He had also a private signaller placed with telescope on
the watch to inform him of outside doings and forewarn the garrison
in case of assault. Wire communications were arranged so that each
discharge of a shell might be reported by an alarum, in order that
inhabitants of the threatened quarter might have time to burrow in
places of safety. During the daytime the bell of the signaller was
actively employed, but at night the Boers seldom bombarded the
place, and its inhabitants were free to emerge from their
hiding-places and breathe the fresh air.

Fortunately in the matter of food much foresight had been exercised.
With everything against him, Colonel Baden-Powell had succeeded in
making provision for, if necessary, a prolonged state of siege.

At daylight on the 14th, the whole garrison was on the alert.
Reports declared the Boers to be advancing on the south. Firing[Pg 59]
was at the same time heard from the north, and Lord Charles
Cavendish-Bentinck was reported to be in action. While the firing
continued the armoured train was hurriedly got in readiness, and
started with the object of engaging the enemy.

The crew of the leading truck, “Firefly,” consisted of a detachment
of the British South African Police and Railway Volunteers, Captain
Ashley Williams himself being in command, Mr. Gwayne being the
driver of the engine, and Mr. A. Moffat acting as stoker. The second
truck was in charge of Lieutenant More, an engineer on the
Bechuanaland Railway. No. 1 truck was armed with a Maxim, and its
crew mostly with Lee-Metfords. Truck No. 2, which carried another
Maxim, rejoiced in the name of “Wasp.” A third truck, the “Gun,”
carried a Hotchkiss. The crew of the trucks numbered barely fifteen
in each. The train, after passing Lord Charles Bentinck’s squadron,
who hailed it with a cheer and various humorous sallies, came on the
enemy, about 500 strong, to right front of the trucks.

A fierce interchange of bullets followed, the Mafeking party firing
with such success that the enemy cautiously withdrew into the
distance; still they kept up a rattling fire against the armour of
the train, which careered up and down the line for some time with
imperturbable yet cheerful activity. Presently, however, Colonel
Baden-Powell despatched Captain FitzClarence with a squadron of men
to cover its retreat, but before this could be effected the Boers
again appeared, and a determined engagement ensued. Some sharp
fighting took place, and Captain FitzClarence, though ordered to
return to Mafeking, was unable to do so without reinforcements on
account of the number of his wounded. The phonophore having been
connected with the railway line, a telegraph message to this effect
was sent to headquarters. Thereupon Lord Charles Bentinck was
ordered to take his squadron to the relief of Captain FitzClarence.
Meanwhile Captain Ashley Williams and a party of the South African
Police alighted from the train, and went unarmed to the assistance
of the wounded. Among these was Lieutenant Brady of Queenstown.
Soon, the helpless were removed into the trucks, and the train was
steaming on its return to Mafeking after having done great execution
among the enemy.

Travelling in an armoured train, even when you are not wounded, is
scarcely an enjoyable experience; indeed, it may be described as one
of the most superb tests of warrior qualities. The machine itself
resembles a species of tank-truck, boxed round with seven-feet high
walls of iron or steel, without doors or windows, and with no
covering for the occupants save the dome of heaven. You climb in and
you climb out as you would into a bath, by hanging on to the
loopholes made for the rifles, and planting your feet on the
exterior ridges that act as[Pg 60] steps for the nimble toe. Once in,
there is comparative safety. From all sides there is shelter from
rifle-fire save when going down-hill below the enemy, who can then
with ease pour cascades of bullets upon the heads of the travellers.
The machine is painted kharki colour to make it less observable to
the enemy, and has the distinction of being quite the ugliest of the
many ugly inventions of modern science. Occasionally the exterior is
of varied hue—particularly in green country, when it is made to
look verdant and covered with boughs to give it an arboreal aspect,
and render its shape less observable. But the ugliness and
inconvenience of the train are nothing to the dangers it may have to
encounter. The occupant may find himself surrounded by a party of
the enemy before he has been a mile out from his base; he may find
the rail cut behind him; he may steam straight into an ambush at any
moment, or be blown up before he can wink. It has rightly been
called a “death trap,” for it provides chances of dissolution many
and varied.

But notwithstanding these risks, the machine was at this time
continually in use, and the pluck of the defenders of Mafeking rose
superior to all tests. The engagement of the 14th, with all its
thrilling and painful experience, bore good fruit; for all felt that
the encounter had been beneficial in many ways, more especially in
strengthening the sense of security that everywhere began to
prevail. To show how much courage and determination was the order of
the course, it must be noted, in somewhat Irish phrase, that the
manning of the town was assisted by women, some of whom refused to
go into laager, but elected to handle their Lee-Metfords for the
protection of themselves and their companions.

In the engagement of this day, Lord Charles Cavendish-Bentinck and
Lieutenant Brady were both slightly wounded. Major Baillie had a
narrow escape, his horse having been shot under him, while his
water-bottle was also struck by a bullet. In the evening Colonel
Baden-Powell issued a general order congratulating the A and L
squadrons, commanded by Captain FitzClarence and Lord Charles
Bentinck, and the crew of the armoured train, under Captain Williams
and Lieutenant More, for their highly creditable performances.

About this time some discomfort and anxiety was occasioned by the
fact that water became scarce in the town, owing to the Boers having
taken possession of a fountain from which the inhabitants were
supplied. Still, as Colonel Baden-Powell is an officer of genius,
full of resource and infinite capacity for taking pains, all had
confidence that he would not allow himself to be overcome by a
temporary difficulty, and that he and his would emerge from all
tests much as Colonel Pearson and his gallant party emerged from the
ordeal of Eshowe. So the water difficulty was soon settled. Under
Major Hepworth’s supervision all the wells were cleaned[Pg 61] out, and
Sir Charles Warren’s old well re-opened. On the 16th of October
Commandant Cronje’s commandoes took up a position among the thorns
above the racecourse and opened fire on the town. Then a Boer party
bearing a flag of truce was sent by Cronje to demand surrender to
avoid further bloodshed. “Certainly, but when will bloodshed begin?”
asked Colonel Baden-Powell, who, alive to all the little dodges of
his enemies, knowingly kept the Burgher messenger blindfolded while
he formulated his reply. Of course he meant to hold out, and he said
so in round terms, and the Burgher departed discomfited and without
having secured a plan of the fortifications! Subsequently some Boer
Krupp batteries were brought up to cover the town, to impress those
concerned and to show that the enemy meant business. But the
bombardment so far was not fraught with much damage, for Colonel
Baden-Powell, telegraphing on the 21st, thus comically described the
situation: “All well. Four hours’ bombardment. One dog killed.”

The Boers had now begun to penetrate to Tuli in Rhodesia. Tuli is
the nearest post on the north to Transvaal territory. It stands on a
river that comes down from the Matopo Hills, and joins the Limpopo
about twenty miles beyond the town, which commands the cross-roads
from the Transvaal to Buluwayo and from Mafeking to Victoria. The
troops here were under the command of Colonel Plumer, who, from the
time that Mafeking was besieged, was un[Pg 62]tiring in his efforts to
come to the rescue. With Colonel Plumer were the following officers:
Majors Pilsen and Bird, Captain Maclaren (13th Hussars), the notable
polo-player, Captain Blackburn (Cameronians), Captain Rolt (York and
Lancashire Regiment), Lieutenant Rankin (7th Hussars), Lieutenant
French (Royal Irish Regiment), and several others.

On the 19th of October a party of the enemy was suddenly met on the
Rhodesian side of the river by a reconnoitring patrol. The Dutchmen
fired on the patrol, wounding a trooper. Captain Glynn went off for
the purpose of locating the enemy, and discovered the presence of a
Boer column in his neighbourhood. Two days later a smart skirmish
took place between a strong patrol and the enemy, who was
encountered at Rhodes’s Drift, with the result that two troopers
were killed and two wounded. The Boers afterwards took up a strong
position on a kopje at Pont’s Drift, fired in a dastardly manner on
Major Pilsen, Sergeant Shepstone, and his party while they were
removing dead and wounded to an ambulance and a cart brought for the
purpose, and their work of mercy had to be carried on under the most
trying and aggravating conditions. There were also some skirmishes
at Crocodile River. An armoured train got within about 1500 yards of
a Boer laager three miles south of Crocodile Poort. Captain
Blackburn (Cameronians) was seriously wounded and died on the road
to Tuli, whither the British retired by Colonel Plumer’s orders. It
is satisfactory to note that Sergeant Shepstone, who gallantly came
to Captain Blackburn’s assistance, received his commission.

Skirmishing took place at odd intervals, and Colonel Plumer
continued to send reconnoitring parties up and down the river. On
many occasions these were fired upon, but without serious result. On
the 28th, however, Captains White and Glynn reconnoitred a kopje at
Pont’s Drift—each approaching the hill on a different
side—whereupon a brisk skirmish ensued, when five of their men were
shot by the enemy and four wounded. Later on, after his
reconnaissance westward along the Crocodile River, Colonel Plumer
returned to Tuli. Boer commandoes were at that time supposed to have
retired to the neighbourhood of either Pietersburg or Mafeking.
Colonel Spreckley’s camp was shelled by the enemy on the 3rd of
November, and the mules and horses belonging to the squadron
promptly stampeded.

To return to Mafeking. The Boers had now begun their activities, and
miniature artillery duels were continually taking place between the
British and the enemy. More guns were brought to bear upon the
position by Cronje and his gang, and they set to work to do as much
damage as possible. The Convent was hit, but no one was injured.
Finally, after several days of bombard[Pg 63]ment and reciprocated
shelling, Colonel Baden-Powell decided to give the enemy a taste of
cold steel. A council of war was held, and on the 27th of October a
most courageous night attack was made on the Boer trenches by
Captain FitzClarence. As darkness descended, the little force stole
noiselessly out of their stronghold with fixed bayonets, creeping
like cats along the veldt, breath even being almost suspended lest a
sound should put the enemy on guard. Then, on a given signal—a
whistle from Captain FitzClarence—the men dashed forward on the
foe, cheering lustily, while from the town the echoes and the voices
of anxious watchers gave back cheer for cheer. The tussle was short
and sharp. It was a case of fifty desperate men with fifty bayonets
dealing destruction to a roaring rabble under the tarpaulins! Then
came a storm of hostile bullets from the rear of the trenches, a
swift reply from the attacking party, followed by Captain
FitzClarence’s whistle, “Cease fire. Scatter homeward.” Under a
withering fire the forces obeyed, returning as they went, in silence
and in darkness. Then came the roll-call. Six were killed and eleven
wounded, but of the latter all returned, none being left on the
field. Here we may read Colonel Baden-Powell’s general order:—

After this the Boers brought a big gun to bear on the position, and
blazed away at a distance of seven miles from the town. Out of
sixteen shells only one struck. This set fire to a store. The huge
weapon evidently proved a white elephant, for before long the
besiegers, much to the joy of the besieged, ceased their attempts to
work it.

But heavy bombardment still took place. The Boer hosts attacked the
town from three sides at once and were steadily repulsed by the
British Maxims. All through the week Cronje’s commandoes indulged in
desultory rifle-fire, now and again throwing a shell by way of
variety, to which attentions Colonel Baden-Powell and his smart
garrison responded with such zest and anima[Pg 64]tion, that the Boers,
discomfited, declared that the place contained “not men, but
devils!”

On Tuesday, the 31st of October, in the early hours of the morning,
some hard fighting again took place. Colonel Walford and his
detachment of the British South African Police held the fort called
Cannon Kopje against an advance of the enemy, made under cover of
four heavy guns and one 100-pounder. The affair ended in an entire
defeat of the Dutchmen, but not before some gallant lives were
sacrificed. The following order, issued the same day by Colonel
Baden-Powell, describes the action:—

A pathetic funeral followed, the honoured dead being wrapped in the
Union Jack, and buried by the grim light of a lantern, while the
Rector and Roman Catholic Chaplain each said over the graves the
last solemn words according to the rites of his Church. There was no
Dead March, nor were any volleys fired, but the dumb grief of the
community told its own tale of mourning.

KIMBERLEY

Kimberley, as has been said, is by no means a picturesque place. On
first acquaintance it appears to be surrounded by redoubts or forts,
being dotted with mounds of greyish slag, technically called
“tailings,” which represent the refuse soil from which the
diamondiferous ore has been extracted. The buildings are somewhat
formal and unpleasing, being for the most part of corrugated iron,
and conveying the impression that they are constructed with a view
to being carried off at any moment. There are a few private
residences,[Pg 65] which the orthodox house-agent might style “handsome”
or “commodious.” The hotel is merely useful as a place for
passengers to alight at and depart from, and that it is no more may
be accounted for by the fact that Kimberley hospitality is so
double-handed that visitors are seldom left to the tender mercies of
public caterers. The Kimberley Club dispenses hospitality royally,
and for this reason travellers are made independent of outside
luxury. Round Kimberley are the suburbs of Beaconsfield, Kenilworth,
and Gladstone. Beaconsfield, which was once a growing town, has
become stunted, while Kenilworth has blossomed forth under the
auspices of Mr. Rhodes.

When the Boer Ultimatum was pronounced, all eyes turned naturally in
the direction of the Diamond City, and as naturally the Diamond
City, under the direction of Colonel Kekewich, prepared to defend
itself. The population to be protected numbered some 33,000, of whom
19,000 were blacks. Among these latter were 4000 women. At that time
it was doubtful if the Zulus, Matabeles, and Basutos were to be
trusted, and consequently the position of the Colonel in supreme
command was one of great responsibility. Fortunately the place was
stocked with arms and ammunition, though the number of the regulars
was absolutely inadequate to the requirements of so large an area.

The Imperial garrison sent to Kimberley for the defence only
consisted of the 23rd Company Royal Garrison Artillery, with six
7-pounder mountain guns, Major Chamier commanding; one section of
the 7th Field Company Royal Engineers, under Lieutenant M’Clintock;
Captain Gorle and three non-commissioned officers and men of the
Army Service Corps, and the headquarters and four companies of the
Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, under Major Murray; in all, 564
officers and men. The staff included Lieutenant-Colonel Kekewich,
North Lancashire Regiment, commanding; Major Scott-Turner, Royal
Highlanders (staff officer); Captain O’Meara, Royal Engineers
(Intelligence Officer); and Lieutenant MacInnes, Royal Engineers.
The volunteer forces, when first called out for active service,
consisted of one battery Diamond Fields Artillery, six 7-pounder
field-guns, Major May, 3 officers, and 90 rank and file; Diamond
Fields Horse, Major Rodger, 6 officers, 142 rank and file; Kimberley
Regiment, Colonel Finlayson, 14 officers, 285 rank and file:—total
all ranks, 1060.

The whole garrison was reviewed, and a town-guard was formed at
Beaconsfield, under the command of Major Fraser. Colonel Harris
commanded the Volunteers, most of these being employees of the De
Beers mines. Preparations were made for the arrival of Mr. Cecil
Rhodes, who was hastening to the scene of his early life-work, and
for whose body, alive or dead, it was reported the Boers[Pg 66] had sent
out an offer of £5000. The artillery was exercised and defences were
erected on all sides. Ladies and children made haste to leave by
every train, but one lady of note, the Hon. Mrs. Rochfort Maguire,
remained. The Commandant of Kimberley gave orders that trees should
be felled and the bush cleared, in order to open a fine field for
firing, the garrison to a man exerting themselves so as to give a
warm reception to the enemy directly he should show a head above the
kopje. On the 12th of October Mr. Cecil Rhodes arrived. His entry
was somewhat melodramatic, as his train was delayed and spies were
actually on the platform lying in wait for him. Fortunately he was
not recognised. The magnetism of his presence added fresh zest to
the proceedings in the town, while the calm confidence of his
bearing became absolutely infectious. In fact, he soon delighted
every one by stating that he considered Kimberley to be every bit
“as safe as Piccadilly.” At this time the town was well provisioned
and the mines were kept working. Most of the garrison occupied the
brigade grounds, while the detachment of regulars and the Kimberley
regiments were stationed at the Sanatorium. The Town-Guard soon
numbered 2000.

Skirmishing took place on Friday, the 14th of October, and on the
following day there were more encounters. One squadron in an
armoured train was held up by the Boers, and their attack was
supported by a second force. The second squadron of the Protectorate
regiment grandly repelled the attack. The train, in which were
several Imperial officers, was uninjured. The Boer artillery gave
way at last, and the forces withdrew, but not before having
sustained heavy loss.

On the 15th a proclamation was made establishing martial law in
Griqualand West and Bechuanaland. Persons not members of the
defending forces were ordered to register their firearms, and no one
was allowed to leave their houses between nine at night and six in
the morning. The canteens without permits were opened only for a few
hours during the day. Death was to be the punishment for acts
contrary to civilised warfare. Fourteen Streams and Vryburg were now
evacuated, the police detachments retiring from them on Kimberley.

In order to maintain internal order, Colonel Kekewich divided the
town into four sub-districts, and the people were cautioned against
holding communication with the Queen’s enemies. The consumption of
meat was regulated, each man being allowed 1 lb. daily, while the
exports of foodstuffs and forage were prohibited. Roads were closed,
and no one without authority or a permit was allowed to pass in or
out. The defences everywhere were strengthened.

On the 21st of October, an armoured train that went out to
reconnoitre discovered the enemy in the neighbourhood of
Spy[Pg 67]fontein. A proclamation having been issued by the Boers at
Vryburg annexing Bechuanaland, most probably for the purpose of
impressing the disloyal Dutch, Colonel Kekewich forthwith issued
another, threatening that British subjects found assisting the
Queen’s enemies would be summarily dealt with as base rebels. He
also declared that, in spite of the hoisting of the Vierkleur in
Vryburg, the status of British subjects in Griqualand and
Bechuanaland would remain unaltered. An armoured train was again
engaged on this date, but only one man was killed. Two trucks of
dynamite, however, which had been safely removed, were blown up by
the Boers. The town was now completely isolated, the railway line
being cut north and south.

On the 24th inst. the garrison, supported by two armoured trains,
had a fresh and an exceedingly animated encounter with the enemy.
Colonel Scott Turner and 270 mounted volunteers marched north to
Macfarlane’s Farm. There they off-saddled and kept a look-out for
the Boers. Soon afterwards they appeared, and Colonel Turner opened
fire. The Boers promptly intrenched themselves behind a sandheap,
and from thence kept up a hot fusilade. To Colonel Turner’s
assistance there came the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, followed
at noon by their Colonel—Colonel Murray—with two guns, two Maxims,
and 70 mounted men.

The Boers advanced on Colonel Murray and tried to cut off the party,
and in endeavouring to frustrate their efforts Colonel Turner found
himself in the thick of a furious fire which burst from a dam wall
500 yards on his left.

The British guns promptly began to blaze on the enemy, who very
briskly responded. In the end, however, they were compelled to fall
back. At this juncture the Lancashires, whose pluck and dexterity
were magnificent throughout, hastily occupied the position, fixed
bayonets, and gallantly drove off the enemy whenever he turned to
make a stand. The fight, which was in every way a brilliant success,
lasted four long hours. The British loss was three killed and
twenty-one wounded, while that of the Boers was considerable.
Commandant Botha was said to be among the killed. During this
engagement Kimberley, as may be imagined, was in a state of frantic
excitement, and the return of the troops was looked for by swarms of
people, including women, who crowded the trenches and received the
gallant defenders with great enthusiasm. Mr. Rhodes afterwards made
an amusing speech to the Volunteers, complimented them on their
splendid work, and explained that there was one man whom the Boers
wished to capture, and that man was himself. Owing to the efficiency
of the troops, however, he declared that he rejoiced in a sense of
complete security. Cheers followed, for the Queen, the Governor, Mr.
Rhodes, and the officers of the[Pg 68] corps. After this things were
fairly quiet, though the garrison remained on the alert. Lord
Methuen, it became known, had started from the Orange River on the
22nd, and was daily decreasing the distance between his relieving
force and the town; and, in order to meet his energetic advance, the
Boers were unable to afford a sufficient number of troops to force
the town into surrender. So Kimberley kept up its spirits—it viewed
life with “one auspicious and one drooping eye”—mingling the
discharge of guns with the chime of marriage-bells. This is no
figure of speech, for there was actually a wedding—two people, at
least, having found time to be romantic in their love amid the storm
and stress of war. A dance and a concert also took place. Indeed,
things were conducted with such high spirit and in so convivial a
manner that it might have been imagined that the Boers were
commissioned to supply the fireworks, and that a species of “Brock’s
benefit” was got up whenever events were inclined to wax monotonous.
Reports computed the investing force at 4000, and it was further
stated that General Cronje’s commando would be reinforced by the
arrival of some 1500 more. Yet the gallant little town smiled within
itself and said “The more the merrier.” Colonel Scott Turner made a
reconnaissance on the 1st of November, found the enemy posted on a
kopje, was thundered at with thirteen shells, but returned with his
force in safety. On the 4th of November Commandant Wessels invited
Colonel Kekewich to hand over the troops and town on pain[Pg 69] of
bombardment. The exact terms of the invitation are not known, but
some portions of the communication were as follows:—

The Boers soon began to receive the reinforcements which have been
mentioned. These came from the direction of Mafeking, that place
having proved too much a “spitfire” for their liking. As a last
resource, they directed their attention to Kimberley, and by way of
exercise blew up some £3000 worth of dynamite which was stored in
some huts belonging to the De Beers Company. While these exciting
events were taking place, and with the roar of intermittent
explosions in his ears, Mr. Rhodes pursued a placid way. His labours
were eminently horticultural—at least so they appeared on the
surface. He engaged himself at Kenilworth, the suburb which he may
be said to have created, in planting an avenue a mile long with
orange-trees, espalier vines, and pepper-trees. It was called his
Siege Avenue. There was suggestion in the arrangement, and the mind
instinctively conjured up visions of mystery—mystery somewhat
prolonged and clinging, with spice of a stimulating kind thrown in.

News from the Orange River, which came in by fits and starts, hinted
that after the evacuation of Colesberg would come the abandonment of
Stormberg. Stormberg was intended to be the depôt where stores,
tents, ammunition, and all the commissariat details of the Third
Division under General Gatacre would be accumulated. These stores,
owing to the Boer advance from Bethulie and Aliwal North, were now
being removed to Queenstown, some sixty miles down the line.[Pg 70]

CHAPTER III

NATAL

In consequence of the incursion of about 3000 refugees—some of them
most undesirable in character—it was deemed expedient to issue a
proclamation of martial law in Natal. This was followed by the
seizure of the Transvaal National Bank at Durban, a most exciting
episode, which caused quite a ferment in the town. All around the
offices a curious and somewhat rowdy rabble congregated, and it was
found necessary to guard the premises with Bluejackets and marines.
However, after the place had been searched, the men, looking
strangely transmogrified in their kharki, returned to Her Majesty’s
ship Tartar, and affairs went on as usual. At the Cape, owing to
widespread rumours of disloyalty, Sir Alfred Milner issued the
following proclamation, dated October 28:—

To Mr. Chamberlain he wrote on the subject on the same date:—

Apropos of Sir Alfred Milner’s letter, it must be mentioned that
several of the Bechuanaland Dutch had openly joined the Boers; and
on the occasion of the hoisting of the Transvaal flag in Vryburg,
Commandant Delarey took occasion to deliver himself of an effective
speech, in which he said that the flag of the country was now
floating over the whole Orange River, and that the flag of Britain
would never again do so unless it were hoisted over the dead bodies
of the Burghers. At Klipdam also the Boers put in an appearance, and
celebrated their incursion by holding “at homes” in the Magistrates’
Court; but hearing of the British successes at Kimberley, and
judging discretion to be the better part of valour, they decamped
northwards, leaving food and stores behind.

The disaffection of the Dutch was as yet almost confined to the
western border. On the eastern side the inhabitants for the most
part were staunch. Indeed, in the history of the war the splendid
loyalty of Natal as a whole will ever be remembered. Her trials were
many and her faith almost sublime. Weekly the Times of Natal had
poured forth its plaint on the dilatoriness or insouciance of the
Imperial Government, yet nothing was done till those who put their
trust in the good faith of the mother country were deprived of home
and fortune, and in their bitterness were tempted to declare that
British protection was as Dead-Sea fruit—a profitless show, that
was apt to turn to ashes in the mouth. The following letters serve
to show the attitude of a staunch loyalist under the severe strain
put upon him, and they are quoted because they are descriptive, not
of individual anxiety and distress, but of the general feeling of
the Colony in those months of supreme trial.

One letter, dated October 27, began:—

[Pg 72]

The next letter, dated October 31, said:—

The Governor of the British prison at Misina, Pomeroy, Natal, wrote
in a similar heart-breaking strain:—

In regard to the readiness of Natal to support British supremacy, a
visitor who participated in the raising of the volunteer regiments
there stated that there were 4500 volunteers in the field,
three-fourths of whom were drilled men. They were enrolled at the
rate of 200 a day. Durban a month later raised a splendid corps of
colonial scouts for the purpose of checking Boer raiding. It was
composed of some sixty or seventy men of the best families in the
place.

The conduct of the Natal women was especially noteworthy. Their
patience, their fortitude, their eager desire to be of service,
their readiness to face sacrifice, won general esteem. One
eye-witness stated that while shells were hurtling through the air
and bursting on the ground, they—the women-folk of the
place—calmly traversed the streets in ordinary costume and with
ordinary demeanour, as though no hostile Boer or bellowing gun was
within a hundred miles of them. Not a trace of fear or panic was
manifest. It was not surprising to learn that a community boasting
such noble specimens of womanhood decided to remain where they were
rather than accept the dubious shelter offered them by the Boer
general.[Pg 73]

Mr. Winston Spencer Churchill, writing of the Natalians in the
Morning Post, feelingly said: “There are several points to be
remembered in this connection. Firstly, the colonists have had many
dealings with the Boers. They knew their strength; they feared their
animosity. But they have never for one moment lost sight of their
obligations as a British colony. Their loyalty has been splendid.
From the very first they warned the Imperial Government that their
territories would be invaded. Throughout the course of the long
negotiations they knew that if war should come, on them would fall
the first fury of the storm. Nevertheless, they courageously
supported and acclaimed the action of the Ministry. Now at last
there is war—bitter war. It means a good deal to all of us, but
more than to any it comes home to the Natalian. He is invaded; his
cattle have been seized by the Boer; his towns are shelled or
captured; the most powerful force on which he relies for protection
is isolated in Ladysmith; his capital is being loopholed and
intrenched; Newcastle has been abandoned, Colenso has fallen,
Estcourt is threatened; the possibility that the whole province will
be overrun stares him in the face. From the beginning he asked for
protection. From the beginning he was promised complete protection;
but scarcely a word of complaint is heard. The townsfolk are calm
and orderly, the Press dignified and sober. The men capable of
bearing arms have responded nobly. Boys of sixteen march with men of
fifty to war—to no light, easy war. The Imperial Light Infantry is
eagerly filled. The Imperial Light Horse can find no more vacancies,
not even for those who will serve without pay. The Volunteers and
Town-Guards bear their parts like men.” Of the excellence of the
service of the Natalians a great deal remains to be said. At present
the story must proceed.

The arrival of Sir Redvers Buller at Cape Town on the 31st of
October was a signal for general rejoicing. The streets were filled
to overflowing, and cheer after cheer rung from thousands of
throats. As the General drove to Government House, he was greeted by
cries of “Avenge Majuba!” and “Bravo, General!” and by the amount of
emotion expended and the universal expression of relief evidenced,
it was plain that the Cape colonists, like the cockney Londoner,
were prepared “to bet their bottom dollar” on the combination of Sir
Redvers Buller and Mr. Thomas Atkins!

On the 2nd November the Boers proclaimed the Upper Tugela division
of Natal to be Free State Territory, and they seized Colesberg
Bridge, some eighteen miles north of the town of Colesberg, where
the road between that place and Philippolis crosses the Orange
River. However, as Orange River, De Aar, Colesberg, and Stromberg
were still held by our forces, the inhabitants remained confident.
Yet reports of the Boer advance on Colesberg[Pg 74] were scarcely
reassuring, and rumours of increased disaffection among the Dutch
farmers in this region were rife.

It was a curious fact that some of the Boers started from
Johannesburg for the frontier wearing in their hats the national
colours, red, white, and blue—and green, with above them a yellow
band, thus completing the insignia of the United South Africa for
which they were to fight. It would be interesting to know how the
red, white, and blue became associated with the green, and whether
Aylward, the agitator, and his Fenian friends introduced it for the
purpose of giving prominence to the sympathy of the Anti-English
brotherhood in the Emerald Isle. The disloyal Natal Dutch, such of
them as there then were, were distinguished by a red rose badge.
These signs were of no consequence in themselves, but they served to
demonstrate the preconcerted nature of Boer actions, which were
supposed by certain persons to have been a sudden and spontaneous
outcome of British oppression.

Racial feeling grew stronger and fiercer day by day, and Mr.
Kruger’s threat to “stagger humanity” was by some declared to be
within an ace of being fulfilled. The Boer is inherently as tough as
the Briton, and as obstinate: he was now well equipped for warfare,
well led, and the chances of a terrific and bloody struggle seemed
hourly to become more and more certain. Fortunately, each day
brought our troops nearer to the Cape, and after the 9th of November
they began to disembark—a total, so far, of 11,000 in all. At first
sight this military multitude seemed an imposing addition to our
force, but, in view of the losses we had sustained and the general
complications of the position, some 100,000 was nearer the figure
required. However, the Home authorities chose to send out their help
in driblets, and the same Home authorities were supposed to know how
the driblets might be adequately disposed. It was only to the
ignorant “man in the street” that the problem of how to meet the
massed armies of the Boers with diffused handfuls of troops became
incomprehensible.

Among the misfortunes with which the British had to contend was the
unfit state of the horses after prolonged travel. Horses are
intensely liable to sea-sickness; they also suffer much from being
cribbed, cabined, and confined for any length of time; and the
difference between the state of the Australian and the British
animals on landing was very marked. The former were in good working
fettle, while the latter had swollen and stiff joints, and were
generally below par. The New Zealand chargers were all that could be
desired, and they made an excellent show when compared with those of
some of the other mounted regiments. Horse-sickness had also to be
contended with, and it was with great difficulty averted. Some of
the officers, however, discovered that by keeping the horses[Pg 75]
protected by their nosebags during the dewy hours of early morning
the liability to the complaint was lessened. The question of horses
was a serious one, almost as important as the question of guns. The
exceeding mobility of the Boer army for long had been a matter of
surprise, if not to the initiated, at least to the general public,
and, as it later appeared, to the Government itself. They had sent
out important generals and learned tacticians, and a fairly large
and unwieldy mass of men, who were bound by their healthy appetites
to stick to their base and hug the railway lines, while the enemy
shifted about with the most annoying and confounding velocity,
delighting to deceive as to their position, and in their deception
being for the most part eminently successful. There is a passage in
the Scriptures that mentions that “the king of Israel is come out to
seek a flea as when one doth hunt a partridge in the mountain,” and
this quotation on the approach of our weighty military machine, the
Boers, ever Biblical, must have been inclined to remember and to
appreciate.

The opinion seemed prevalent, particularly in Colonial circles, that
English generals, in consequence of their European or Indian
experiences, were unequal to a struggle with the “slim” and shifty
Boers. Laing’s Nek, Ingogo, and Majuba had all proved that some
extraordinary weakness, either tactically or mentally, seemed to
possess the bravest warriors in the face of this incomprehensible
foe. Since the date of Majuba the ways of the Boers had become still
more of a conundrum. They had kept up their habit of sharpshooting,
and had acquired an insight into German tactics. For all that, on
occasion certain of their old commanders resorted to the primitive
tricks of the Zulus, and advanced in horn fashion, keeping one horn
in ambush as long as possible, so as to create a surprise for an
unprepared enemy. Even to eminent tacticians like General Clery and
others, the blend of modern German and antique Zulu in the ordering
of war must have been confounding, and it is scarcely surprising
that they took some little time to master the subject.

The landing, on the 8th November, of the Naval Brigade with twenty
guns for the defence of Durban was a move in the right direction,
and the arrival and marching in of the brigade was an inspiriting
sight. The streets swarmed with an enthusiastic multitude that
welcomed the jolly Jack Tar with delight, and cheered itself hoarse,
almost drowning the vigorous strains of the band of the Terrible,
which played outside the Town-Hall. Captain Percy Scott of the
Terrible, inventor of the now celebrated gun-carriages, replaced
Major Bethune as commandant of the forces defending the port, while
the latter officer returned to the active command of the Uitlander
corps.

The tide of reinforcement now began to flow evenly into Cape[Pg 76] Colony
and Natal, and there was great excitement owing to the arrival of
the Moor, which left Southampton on October the 21st. Among those
on board were Lieutenant-General Lord Methuen, commanding the First
Division of the Field Force; Major-General Sir C. F. Clery,
commanding the Second Division; and Major-General Sir W. F. Gatacre,
commanding the Third Division; and a large number of officers for
service on the Staff.

THE INVASION OF CAPE COLONY

The position of affairs in the direction of the Orange River was at
first somewhat stationary. The British were awaiting the arrival of
troops and keeping on the alert; the Boers were making proclamations
and annexing adjacent villages.

A column from Cape Colony had started, and more troops were pushing
up as fast as train could carry them in the direction of De Aar. A
letter from a British officer from that place describes the state of
affairs on the 20th of October. He said:—

“This place is to be a big base when the British troops arrive;
10,000 are to come here, but are not expected for at least a month.
At present we are the only regiment here, and have to keep the line
open and guard all the stores coming up for the 10,000 troops. We
have not got half enough men, as the front of our position is nearly
five miles, and we cannot watch it properly. Our position is strong
as long as we can hold the hills; but if the Boers can get artillery
near us, they will wipe us out in a few hours without getting within
rifle range at all, as we have no guns ourselves. We keep on
telegraphing for them, but the officials at home and at Cape Town do
not seem to understand the position. The worst of this place is that
there is not a loyal native within twenty miles of us, and they are
only waiting for a good opportunity to rise. We can only be ready
for them—that is, we cannot attack them, as they have not yet
declared openly for the Transvaal, though they are all spies, and
give the Boers information on all our dispositions.”

In this short letter we find the keynote of all our subsequent
troubles. The complete and almost absurd confidence of the British,
supported as it was by valour without wisdom or activity, was a
“voice” and nothing more. Deeply have we suffered since those words
were written, for an arrogant under-estimation of the enemy, a
reprehensible delay in preparing for him, and a parsimonious system
of carrying out those preparations when attempted. However, it is
useless to cry over spilt milk.

To thoroughly appreciate the situation at this period it is
necessary to understand the direction in which our troops were
moving.[Pg 77] Modder River, Hope Town, and Orange River are situated on
the railway between Kimberley and the junction of the lines which
run south to Cape Town and Port Elizabeth respectively. De Aar, of
which we began to hear so much, is an important station at the apex
of the triangle, just over 500 miles from Cape Town, and here
towards the end of the month of October many troops were
congregating. Here, though no hostilities were actually taking
place, there was a good deal of simmering activity; for it must be
remembered that De Aar Junction was our advanced supply base in the
Colony, and owed its strategical importance at this critical period
to the fact that it was the junction of Cape Town and Port Elizabeth
railways. It is situated about sixty miles from the Orange River and
Free State border.

The contrast at this time between camps British and camps Dutch in
the neighbourhood of the border was curious. The Boers were
prepared, taking their ease. The British were in suspense.
Disaffection was visible on all sides, and yet inaction, irritating
inaction, was obligatory. Morning, noon, and night a perennial
sand-storm blew; overhead, the sun grilled and scorched. Meals,
edibles, and liquids were diluted with 10 per cent. of grit, and
when perchance Tommy strove to strain his hardly-earned beer—to
make a filter of a butter-cloth—phut! would come a gust of wind and
bring the experiment to a melancholy conclusion. Poor Thomas’s
temper was much tried! He was, of necessity, an exceedingly
temperate fellow in those days, but when he got a pot of beer he
preferred it to be beer, and not porridge. He did not relish in his
mouth the same thing that the wind was distributing impartially into
ears and eyes. He said he could take in—at the pores—enough of
that to suit his liking. But he was no grumbler, as a rule. He
worked hard and incessantly, Colonel Barter determining to keep his
men of the Yorkshire Light Infantry quite up to the mark. It was
necessary to take every precaution against surprise, and for
commanding officers to remain eternally on the qui vive. It needed
considerable tact to order sufficient work, and only sufficient. It
was dangerous to over-fatigue troops who might be required to leap
to arms at any moment; it was also risky to allow active men in a
hot sun to give way to inertia. There was the never-ceasing routine
of guards and picquets, the practice of route marching and field
manœuvres, and the daily round of minor camp duties to keep the
warriors hale and hearty, and prepare their thews for a tough
tussle. A regular system of scouting was matutinally carried on, and
it was thought that the enemy would not be able to encroach beyond
his border without enjoying a startling reception. At this time he
was not visible, and all that scouts could detect, beside some
innocent hares and springbok among the hills, was now and then a
flying horseman who disappeared on their approach.[Pg 78]

But the Boers were not far off. They were encamped close to the
border. One adventurous individual, for his personal satisfaction,
performed the feat of travelling north and swimming across the
Orange River to reconnoitre. In the darkness of the night he stole
out, plunged cautiously into the river, clothes and all, and swam
safely to the other side. Then striking out in a north-easterly
direction, he made for a small kopje overlooking the Boer camp.
Meanwhile the moon had sailed out, and began to throw a sheet of
silver over the panorama. Below, the three lines of tents were
outlined, and these were flanked and interspersed with multitudinous
waggons, which formed a chain almost along the entire length of the
valley. In the early dawn more objects became discernible, the
flickering red tongues of the camp-fires, the winking eye of a
lantern that hung from a pole. By this illumination it was possible
to note the general scene of disorder. Scattered garments and goods
in promiscuous array—ammunition and provisions, harness, saddles,
biltong, and gin-bottles—a multifarious, slovenly litter, shed
here, there, and everywhere. Only two sentries were visible, and
these our friend stealthily evaded. One Cerberus sat on the ground
with his back planted against a waggon wheel yawning dolefully, and
farther on slouched another, hands in pockets, head on chest,
walking back and forwards with the air of an automaton. The
individual creeping past them, close under their noses, smiled
softly to himself. How simple to sweep off a dozen or two of the
inmates of the camp before these so-called sentries recovered from
their dozing. Fifty men and fifty bayonets could have got in without
difficulty, and the rout of the rebels would have been an affair of
moments. Now, perhaps before nightfall the whole commando would have
melted away!

Presently at the bottom of the kopje came horsemen—some five of
them—galloping along, and the adventurous one made haste to hide.
The Boer patrol passed within some two hundred yards of him, and he
was safe. It was now time to hurry off. The day was breaking. Again
a plunge into the icy river, again a fight with the racing current,
again a safe landing, this time on the British bank. So the escapade
ended, but it enabled those interested to form a fair idea of the
lack of organisation among the Dutch, and to argue that if once they
should leave their naturally strong fortifications and
intrenchments, the first united and sustained attack on the part of
the British would mean their certain discomfiture.

At the end of October the Border Regiment arrived upon the scene.
The Yorks almost immediately struck camp and prepared to entrain for
Orange River; but presently a counter-order arrived, and, much to
their regret, the regiment again resumed its former routine.

The place at this time was under military law, and precautions were
rigorously taken against spies. The railway stations were[Pg 79]
cautiously guarded night and day, and none was allowed to approach
without proper authority. Troops soon began to pour through on the
way to Orange River, whence the advance was shortly to take place.
Tremendous labour came on the hands of Lieut.-General Sir F.
Forestier Walker, who took trips along the lines of communication to
ascertain that all arrangements were satisfactory.

In readiness for the influx of troops new sidings were constructed
to north and south of the railway station, and the little karoo
junction began to assume an air of wonderful importance. Among the
innovations was a branch of the Standard Bank adjoining Friedlater’s
Store, showing that, though not a Klondyke, this place, which has
been described as “the windiest, dustiest, most unfinished, most
inhospitable corner of the South African wilderness, the veritable
jumping-off place of the globe,” was fast becoming the base of
gigantic military operations. The outlying farms were still in
occupation, though inhabitants were few. These apparently were
indifferent to the progress of coming events, but possibly at that
time they were engaged in careful investigation as to the side of
the bread which held the most butter before committing themselves to
an atti[Pg 80]tude. Their sole obvious desire was that patrols should not
omit to close the gates after them whenever they chanced to pass
through their domains. The Border Regiment soon after its arrival
moved to Naauwpoort, and a battery and a half of artillery swelled
the little garrison. The development of the place now went on more
rapidly.

Mr. E. F. Knight, the brilliant correspondent of the Morning Post,
wrote an interesting description of this now important locality only
a few days before he had the misfortune to lose his arm through the
treachery of the Boers. He said:—

In the above words we have, repeated, the story of suspense and
anxiety that was told by one and all who had the misfortune to spend
October and November on the Transvaal border, a story of brave
Britons, practically unarmed—heroically valorous but
im[Pg 81]potent—standing almost in the teeth of the enemy and sickening
with hope deferred.

The Dutchmen came to work much fresher. The warrior-farmer was
untrammelled by red tape—unwearied by routine. He was not hampered
by minute regulations, though he was bound to look after himself and
rely on his own resources. He provided his own provisions, his own
waggon and horses, but the Government in the event of his requiring
it supplied him with the necessaries of the campaign. He could have
luxuries ad libitum sent from home, and while battle was not
absolutely going on he had little to do but to eat, drink, and
sleep. Drills and field exercises were unknown, though, of course,
each had to take his turn at guard duty. In action the operations of
the Boer commandoes were presided over by field-cornets, and in camp
the work was carried out by corporals, who superintended the supply
department—the munitions of “war” and “mouth,” as we call them, on
which the fighting line depended for ammunition and food.

General Wood arrived at De Aar on the 4th of November and took over
the command of the troops. His first action was to employ the
Engineers and some Cape boys to throw up defensive works and erect
sangars on a ridge—some 2000 yards from the camp—which by a sheer
accident had not been seized by the Boers. From this point of
vantage it was possible for the British guns to command the plain
for many miles round. He then put the place under martial law, as
Dutchmen and spies were slinking about in the neighbourhood of the
railway and the camps. The General’s regulations ran thus:—

We must now move in the direction of the Orange River, where more
activities were taking place. Information having been received that
the Boers in great numbers were gathered at Kaffir’s Kop, a hill
some 500 feet high east of Belmont, a reconnaissance[Pg 82] was made in
that direction on the 10th of November. The reconnoitring force was
composed of a couple of squadrons of the 9th Lancers and detachments
of the Munster Fusiliers, the Northumberland Fusiliers, and the
Loyal North Lancashires. With these were a handy lot of mounted
infantry and a half battery of field-artillery. They bivouacked two
nights before on the north side of the bridge, in order to be ready
to move on at daybreak. Early on Thursday morning they marched out,
the cavalry forming a wide screen, behind which were the mounted
infantry and guns. Belmont, which was some twenty-eight miles off,
was reached at 2.30, but not a sign of the Dutchmen was to be seen.
The troops consequently returned to Fincham’s Farm, some ten miles
back, where they spent the night. In the morning they went east,
where the enemy was reported to have retired. The object of the
reconnaissance was to ascertain the strength of the enemy, and this
was soon achieved, for he was found to be in immense force in a
position of natural strength flanked by huge hills. Some smart
skirmishing ensued. Colonel Gough with a battery of field artillery
engaged the Boers and sent one and a half companies of mounted
infantry to turn the enemy’s left flank and discover his laager.
Fighting continued for more than three hours, during which Colonel
Keith-Falconer,[5] Northumberland Fusiliers, was killed. Lieutenant
Wood, North Lancashire Regiment, was shot through the head, and
Lieutenants Bevan and Hall of the Northumberland Fusiliers were also
wounded. An armoured train came to the rescue and attracted the Boer
fire, pouring from two Maxims a withering storm of bullets on the
enemy and inflicting heavy loss. The Dutchmen were discovered to be
in great force all around, and as they blocked the road to
Kimberley, the promise of more spirited engagements was in the air.
Already it was ascertained that a number of culverts on the railway
line had been destroyed by the hostile troops, and rumours of Boer
invasion were continually being brought in.

The next day, amid universal regret, the two gallant officers who
had lost their lives in leading their men against the powerful
enemy, were buried.

Lieutenant Brook (9th Lancers) on the day of the reconnaissance [Pg 83]had
a narrow escape, and experiences more exciting than pleasurable.
Early in the morning he had gone on ahead of the column for the
purpose of making a route sketch. This done, he sent it back by his
orderly, and while continuing his investigations found himself
confronted with the enemy. A shower of bullets greeted him. His
horse was shot and he was brought to the ground. It was neck or
nothing now, and he ran for dear life pursued by a horde of mounted
Boers. Fortunately he came to a wire fence, vaulted it, and was for
a moment safe. The enemy’s ponies could not follow. But the Boers
sent shots after his retreating form, shots which luckily missed
him, and he was enabled to reach two troops of the 9th Lancers which
galloped up to the rescue.

On the 12th Lord Methuen arrived, and there was general satisfaction
among the troops. They were now in fine fighting condition, and,
having had one taste of battle, were longing to advance and get in
touch with the enemy.

But the advance of Lord Methuen’s column was no simple affair. It
must be remembered that from Cape Town to the base, De Aar, is 500
miles, to Belmont 591, to Kimberley 647, and to Mafeking 870 miles,
and the railway from place to place needed continual guarding, and
especially the bridges in localities where the disaffected portion
of the Dutch community resided. Lord Methuen’s route, too, lay
across a species of dusty Sahara, over boulder-strewn plains with
scarcely a tree to offer shade, though dotted about now and then
with some ancient kopjes to vary the monotony of the South African
scene. On these kopjes it was as likely as not that Boer
sharpshooters might already be hidden, for the affluent Dutchmen
forced their poorer countrymen to maintain eyrie-like
positions—padded with blankets and hedged in with boulders—in
readiness for the approach of an army, while they themselves arrived
fresh, spick and span, only on the rumour of battle.

With all its alarms, however, life in camp was not without its
joviality. The Naval Brigade prepared for action laughing and
singing, and Jack Tar indulged in promiscuous hornpipes between the
conversations of his big guns. A correspondent of the Central News
Agency gave an entertaining account of his sojourn among the
military. He said:—

“There are, of course, pleasantries and pleasantries. The other
night a correspondent was returning to camp when he was met with the
usual challenge. ‘Who goes there?’ shrieked the sentry. ‘A friend,’
replied the correspondent. ‘Stand, friend, and give the
countersign,’ promptly demanded the watchful guardian of the camp.
The correspondent had forgotten the countersign. He knew it related
to Yarmouth. As a matter of fact, it was Yarmouth. So he made a
desperate bid for bed, and replied ‘Bloaters.’ The[Pg 84] sentry replied,
‘Advance, friend,’ and the scene closed. You doubt this as ben
trovato. Well, do not doubt any longer when I plead conviction in
personal guilt. I was ‘Bloaters.’ Nevertheless, to an active
sentrydom, as well as to vigilant curfew, we were becoming
cheerfully accustomed. It is martial law, and the camp is the centre
of Boerdom. Anything, indeed, is welcome, even martial law, if it
relieves boredom at the same time.”

On the 14th of November General Wauchope, commanding the Highland
Brigade, arrived on the Orange River, followed a day or two later by
Major-General Sir H. Colvile, who assumed command of the Guards
Brigade and camp north of the river. The First Division was composed
of two brigades. The Ninth was an Infantry Brigade, consisting of
portions of the Northumberland Fusiliers, a wing of the North
Lancashires, portions of the Manchesters, the Yorkshires, and the
Northamptonshire Regiment. The Guards Brigade was composed of the
Scots Guards, two battalions of the Coldstreams, and one of the
Grenadiers. To this brigade was attached the Naval Brigade (Captain
Prothero, H.M.S. Doris). There were also two squadrons of the 9th
Lancers, “bits” of the Engineers, of the A.S.C. and the Army Medical
Corps—the whole force numbering some 9000 men. The transport
arrangements having been completed, the advance was to be made in
the course of the week. Officers and men were to wear uniform as
similar as possible, in order not to give the sharpshooters a chance
of distinguishing them. The men covered their buttons with mud and
sand in order to make them more of a piece with their kharki, and
their haversacks in the same way were darkened to match.

At this time Naauwpoort and Stormberg were evacuated by order of Sir
Redvers Buller, on the ground that our frontier line was weak and
too much extended. The troops from the former place reinforced De
Aar, those from the latter strengthened Queenstown. The enemy,
though he left De Aar in peace, was active elsewhere. A Boer
commando of 1300 to 2000 strong entered Colesberg on the 15th
November before dawn, and planted itself on the kopjes surrounding
the town, much to the surprise of the inhabitants. The invaders
possessed themselves of the keys of the town, and endeavoured with
great parade to hoist the Free State flag. The ceremony was a
fiasco, however, as before the flag reached the top of the staff,
the halyard, which had been secretly cut partly through by some
loyalists, broke, so that the flag, flying a little above half-mast,
could neither be hoisted properly nor hauled down again. Ultimately
the Boers tied another flag on to the end of a long bamboo, and sent
that up instead. The Mayor endeavoured, in impassioned periods, to
address the loyal inhabitants, but his elo[Pg 85]quence was useless. He
could not make himself heard, and had at last to desist.

The Mounted Police, who were forced to retreat from Colesberg,
joined the New South Wales Lancers at Naauwpoort, and from thence
went on to De Aar. Aliwal North was occupied by a Free State
commando, and the inhabitants of Lady Grey were ordered to vacate
the place. They were allowed until the 25th November to obey orders.
The public offices there were closed, and preparations were made to
occupy the town.

Here must be noted the story of a woman in a thousand—the
post-mistress of Ladygrey. When the Boers came to seize the
post-office, she “stuck to her post” with a vengeance. She refused
to budge or to give it up, and when the Free State flag was hoisted,
she promptly hauled it down and substituted the Union Jack. Not
content with this, she tore down the proclamation of the Boers
annexing the district, and put in its place the Governor’s
proclamation against treason. Pluck carried the day; the Boers were
worsted, and the post-mistress remained mistress of the situation.
What became of this heroine of the war is not yet known.

Proclamations emanating from Bloemfontein, and signed by Mr.
Wessels, President of the Volkraad, were also issued, declaring the
whole of Griqualand West, except Kimberley and Mafeking and the
districts four miles around each of these places, to be Free State
territory. In the face of these energetic movements action on the
part of the British was necessary to restore the confidence of the
wavering people, and consequently the following telegram was
despatched by the General Commanding in Chief to the officer
commanding at Queenstown:—

On the other side the enemy exerted himself freely. A curious appeal
was made to the farmers about Colesberg by the Boer commander. He
addressed the crowd with great fervour, and called on all to join
the Republican cause and to throw off the yoke of England, whose
tyranny could no longer be endured. War, he declared, had been
forced upon them. They were now fighting for liberty, and it was the
will of God. He said it depended on the[Pg 86] Afrikanders themselves
whether they would for ever continue to be ruled from Downing Street
or become an independent nation. So far, he added, their arms had
been victorious, and God had been with them.

Meanwhile Lord Methuen and his troops were preparing to march to the
relief of Kimberley via Witteputs, and in expectation of his
arrival (of which they were duly informed by their many spies and
the disloyal Dutch in the neighbourhood), the Boers, reinforced,
posted a cannon at Belmont Station, and again took up a powerful
position on the Kaffir’s Kop range of hills.

THE BATTLE OF BELMONT

On the morning of Tuesday, the 21st of November, at three o’clock,
Lord Methuen’s march to the relief of Kimberley definitely began.
The force consisted of the Naval Brigade, the 9th Brigade under
Colonel Featherstonhaugh, the Guards Brigade under General Sir H.
Colvile, two batteries of Field Artillery, Rimington’s Guides, and
the 9th Lancers. The first halt was made at Fincham’s Farm, some
twelve miles off, where the troops breakfasted, and whence the 9th
Lancers and Rimington’s Guides started on a reconnoitring
expedition, which was not without its excitement. The Boers were
reported to be somewhere in the vicinity, and soon they were espied,
some three hundred of them, climbing a kopje with the evident
intention of firing down on the party. This they did, and with such
rapidity that only by sheer luck the men escaped. They went on to
the farm of one Thomas, a supposed loyalist, for the purpose of
watering their horses. This person had declared that there were no
Boers in the neighbourhood; but no sooner had the tired beasts begun
to dip their dusty noses in the cool and longed-for draught than a
brisk fire was opened on them from all sides, and the troops had
hurriedly to return to the main body at Fincham’s. But they lost
three horses.

On the following day the division moved on to the said Thomas’s
Farm. The advance party again came under fire—”Just by way of
salute,” as Tommy said—but the enemy was promptly silenced. Here
the troops bivouacked.

On the night of the 22nd coffee was served out about twelve o’clock,
and after this the whole force prepared to move.

The general orders were as follows: “At three a.m. Guards Brigade to
advance from small white house near railway on Gun Kopje, supported
by battery on right plus Naval Brigade; 9th Brigade on west side of
Table Mountain; at same hour, bearing already taken, supported by
battery on left, 9th Lancers, two[Pg 87] squadrons, one company Mounted
Infantry, marching north of Belmont Station, keeping one to two
miles on left flank and advanced; Rimington’s Guides, one squadron
Lancers, one company Mounted Infantry from Witte Putt to east of
Sugar Loaf; one company Mounted Infantry on right of Naval Brigade,
protecting right; the force having got over open ground should
arrive at daybreak on enemy; 9th Brigade having secured Table
Mountain to swing round left and keep on high ground, and then
advance east to west on A (on plan; not printed); Guards Brigade
conform, being pivot; then Guards advance on east edge of Mount
Blanc, guns clearing entire advance with shrapnel; cavalry to get
round rear of enemy, securing horses and laager.”

Lord Methuen’s Line of Advance

This carefully-arranged programme, however, was not followed in its
entirety. In the grim blackness of the small hours the Grenadiers
lost direction, and Lord Methuen was committed to a frontal attack.
But still the attack was a brilliant success. The Boers were caught
napping, for they were in the happy belief that the troops were
still at Witte Putt at the very hour when they were marching
steadily upon them.

The infantry tramped four miles in pitch darkness and took up their
position on a long low hill facing the enemy. The Boers occupied a
magnificent horseshoe-shaped position on a series of kopjes and
ridges eastward of Belmont railway station. As usual, they had
utilised the boulders as screens, behind which they could[Pg 88] safely
blaze away at the advancing ranks. Near daybreak—the hot summer
morning dawned about four o’clock—firing began. The Guards had
opened out for the attack, and the Boers, suddenly espying them from
the heights, thereupon commenced to pelt and batter them. The Scots
and Grenadiers nevertheless proceeded. Their position was far from
comfortable, as it was necessary to cross some hundred yards of arid
open veldt with no cover at all, while the enemy, ensconced behind
tremendous rocks some 500 feet above their level, had nothing to do
but to point their rifles and send their bullets whizzing at the
advancing mass. But the Guards stoutly held their own, lying down
and returning volley after volley for a full half-hour. Meanwhile
the 9th Brigade advanced across the plain in extended order, and at
half-past four two batteries posted near the railway commenced
shelling the enemy’s position.

Now the Guards began to proceed. Steadily forward they went—the
thin, extended line moved as on parade, no supports being behind
them.

Scarcely had they reached the base of the hill than a fierce storm
of lead poured like a cascade from guns and rifles. It was useless
now to attempt to return the fire—the Boers were invisible. There
was no help for it; the men had only to move on and trust to their
best “cold Sheffield” and their warm, gallant hearts. They fixed
bayonets. Major Kinloch gave the word to his men to advance. “Now,
boys, as hard as you can go!” he sang out. The other officers
shouted their orders; all were dashing along like lions loosened
from a cage. Cheers rent the air, bullets buzzed, cannons roared,
blood streamed and spouted, plucky men and brave boys dropped dead
on every side. Yet on went the infantry brigades! The first kopje
was stormed! The Boers had vanished!

It was a sight to thrill the blood, to make the heart leap to the
throat—so grand, so awful, so reminiscent of all the great
traditions of British history. The enemy went helter-skelter to
their second kopje on the right, where another force was strongly
intrenched. Here they were sheltered by a number of “schantz,” or
trenches built of boulders and arranged in gallery form, and here
our men mounted after them—Coldstreams, Grenadiers, Scots Guards,
Northumberlands, Northamptons, and 2nd King’s Own Yorkshires, now
steadily advancing without excitement and with stern determination,
and through a horrible cross-fire from the death-dealing rifles of
the enemy.

Their advance was grand—a feat of heroism—with the Boer missiles
flying about their heads and the track of blood seeming to tinge the
very atmosphere with red. On and on they pushed, cheering loudly up
the steep incline and over the boulders, nimble as goats, determined
as giants, on and on, and, with a mighty roar,[Pg 89] took the position.
Dead men lay at their feet, but honour, with its laurel crown,
wreathed their heads!

Again the Boers made a hasty, a desperate retreat; again they sought
a strongly-fortified position; again, our cavalry being too far off
to reach them, the infantry combat was renewed.

A hurricane of bullets poured down. Death for the third time stared
and gibbered; for the third time our gallant fellows, all in mass,
again advanced to the attack. The Naval Brigade brought up four
guns, and Captain Prothero got his cannon in position of 1800 yards
and blazed out a chorus of distraction.

The enemy fled. The rout was now complete. Away went the 9th
Lancers, away went the Mounted Infantry, both pursuing the fugitives
for a good five miles. Thus the battle of Belmont was won. The whole
of the camp waggons, filled with boxes of clothing, hundreds of
horses and bullocks, were captured, and tons of ammunition were
destroyed.

But this fight, that has taken so short a time to describe, and
which was over in less than four hours, was hardly won. Forms all
bloodily dashed lay here and there and everywhere, and the Scots
Guards, who had stormed the kopje to inspiriting strains of drums
and pipes, were doomed later on to hear the wail of the pibroch for
many comrades mourned and buried. In all, our losses—about
200—were comparatively small considering that the engagement was a
series of three battles, during which the Boers were constantly
carrying off dead and wounded. Very many of our officers were
wounded and three were killed. One—Lieutenant Fryer of the
Grenadier Guards—was slain while gallantly leading his men and
creeping along the bed of a stream in the enemy’s rear. After the
battle Lord Methuen made the following address to the troops:
“Comrades, I congratulate you on the complete success achieved by
you this morning. The ground over which we had to fight presented
exceptional difficulties, and we had as an enemy a past-master in
the tactics of mounted infantry. With troops such as you are, a
commander can have no fear of the result. There is a sad side, and
you and I are thinking as much of those who have died for the honour
of their country and of those who are suffering as we are thinking
of our victory.”

Three instances were reported of the despicable treachery of the
Boers. Lieutenant Willoughby was shot at from an ambush under cover
of the white flag; a Boer holding a white flag in his left hand
murdered Lieutenant Brine with his right, and Lieutenant
Blundell-Hollinshead-Blundell (3rd Batt. Grenadier Guards) was shot
in the merciful act of tending a wounded Boer. Lord Methuen after
the fight sent a remonstrance to the Boer commander, saying, “Acting
quite fairly with you, I decline to take Kimberley men[Pg 90] who know the
country, because their parole cannot be accepted. I must ask you to
warn your wounded not to shoot our officers. I must warn you not to
use Dum-Dum bullets, or use the flag of truce treacherously. Such
action is cowardly in the extreme, and I cannot countenance it.”

Plan of the Battle of Belmont.

The Boer losses were reported as very small, but no credence can be
placed on their statements, for the very good reason that it has
been President Kruger’s policy to conceal from outsiders, and even
from his own country, the extent of his losses. Whenever the Boer
dies in battle, his body is weighted and cast into a river, or into
a trench as quickly as possible. His family are left in ignorance as
to his fate, and their only conclusion is to assume that he is dead.
But Mr. Kruger’s methods and his ruthless military oligarchy were
disapproved even by his own countrymen, and more especially by his
own countrywomen, who now began to mistrust the continual story of
Boer victory, and asked pitifully for permission themselves to seek
for fathers, sons, and brothers from whom they never heard. In some
cases many of these were lying not an inch below their feet, for a
British search party came upon a portion of the veldt that was
literally mosaicked with dead Dutchmen whose bodies were scarcely
more than peppered with earth!

Mr. Knight, the correspondent of the Morning Post, who was a[Pg 91]
general favourite, was wounded in a singularly treacherous manner.
He was in the firing line of the Northamptons, who were then
attacking the Boers. Some of the enemy suddenly emerged from behind
rocks and displayed a handkerchief attached to a rifle. On this sign
Mr. Knight with two others rose, and all three were instantly shot
with Dum-Dum bullets. Mr. Knight’s sufferings were great, and the
arm was amputated. The use of Dum-Dum bullets had been proscribed,
as, after hitting the mark, they expand and cause wounds as large as
a five-shilling piece. The Boers, besides using them on occasion, so
manœuvred the Mauser bullets that they could act in identical
fashion. Another treacherous Boer device was the wearing of the red
cross upon their sleeves—an action on a par with the display of the
white flag—for convenience’ sake. However, it must always be
remembered that the Boer armies were commandeered and cosmopolitan
armies, and not disciplined troops.

During the heat of the fray Colonel Crabbe, commanding the Grenadier
Guards, became detached from his regiment. He was instantly
surrounded by Boers, and being wounded, might probably have been
killed had not a private suddenly rushed to the rescue. The plucky
fellow shot two of the enemy, silenced a third with his bayonet, and
finally, amid a shower of bullets, carried off the Colonel to the
shelter of an ambulance waggon. Colonel Crabbe sustained injuries to
wrist and thigh, but was not dangerously wounded.

A curious experience befell the Hon. George Peel, who was trying to
reach Kimberley, where his sister, the Hon. Mrs. Rochfort Maguire,
was imprisoned. Roaming about after the battle of Belmont, he came
by accident on a Boer camp. A Dutchman promptly emerged, and when he
was preparing to meet a grim fate, deciding that all hope was lost,
he found himself accosted and handed a Bible. He was in the very act
of congratulating himself on his lucky escape when on the scene came
two grenadiers, who seeing his battered condition and his Bible,
mistook him for a Boer spy and carried him off as a prize.
Fortunately he was recognised by a member of Lord Methuen’s camp and
liberated.

Very interesting are the following official particulars given by the
General Officer Commanding the 9th Brigade to the Chief Staff
Officer of the 1st Division:—

The following is the list of officers killed and wounded at the
battle of Belmont:—

THE BATTLE OF GRASPAN

The commandos defeated at Belmont fell back upon Graspan, the next
station northwards on the way to Kimberley. There Lord Methuen
decided they should not long remain. He thought, to use his own
words, “that it would be best to march the division at once to
Swinks Pan, which would place me on the left front of the enemy’s
position, and that if I worked one battery round each flank, sent my
cavalry and mounted infantry well forward, the greater part of the
cavalry being on the eastern side, I ought to capture the eastern
force. The Naval Brigade and 9th Brigade I left for protecting the
guns or assaulting a position if necessary. The Guards Brigade I
left with the baggage to march to Enslin, where I had my next camp.
The brigade could always give a hand if[Pg 93] wanted. I had left 1st
Battalion Scots Guards at Belmont Station, also two companies
Munster Fusiliers, because there were 500 Boers and a gun, so it was
said, threatening Belmont. I made this my divisional battle,
marching straight from Belmont to Enslin. The armoured train with
infantry was to give me a help from the line.” Thus the General
briefly described his programme.

On the day following the battle of Belmont, a hot, blistering day,
with the sun glaring pitilessly till the heavens looked like a sheet
of burnished brass, the Division, with the Yorkshire Light Infantry
as advance guard, moved on towards Graspan. This place is probably
called Graspan because it is the centre of a circular phalanx of
huge kopjes, which, rising out of the smooth white sand, have an air
of quaint picturesqueness resembling that of some ancient ruined
arena. There the troops encamped. Here, in the light of the stars
and rolled in their blankets, they laid them down to their
hard-earned rest.

Before cock-crow, however, the men were up and doing, and as the
lavender hues of dawn began to lighten the horizon, the gallant
warriors were on the move. It was known that the enemy was near at
hand, sneaking on the surrounding heights, therefore the last two
miles were covered in fighting formation, the Naval detachment and
the 5th Fusiliers being supported by the Yorkshire Light Infantry
and the Northampton Regiment.

The enemy, not 400 strong as was supposed, but 2500, with six guns,
one Hotchkiss, and one Maxim, was posted on a series of five kopjes
over 200 feet in height, joined by neks, all of which save one were
strongly occupied. In a laager in the remote distance 500 more Boers
were reported to be hidden in reserve. The ground on all sides had
been previously measured to find the ranges, the Boers having
evidently been quite well informed regarding the British plan of
action.

In advance of the troops came the armoured train, a pachydermatous
monster which moved cumbrously in front of the column, and was
saluted by the smoking wrath of big guns as soon as it appeared. It
retired cautiously, and disgorged its gallant crew of marines to
help in handling the naval guns. Lord Methuen deployed the cavalry
on the flanks, while the artillery took up positions in front of the
Boer trenches. Meanwhile the 9th Brigade went forward in skirmishing
order. This consisted of the Northumberland Fusiliers, 2nd Battalion
Northamptons, half-Battalion Loyal North Lancashires, 2nd Battalion
King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry. With the 9th was the Naval
Brigade, commanded by Captain Prothero. At six o’clock an active
artillery duel began, the guns of the foe being splendidly posted,
and their range, as before-said, carefully calculated. Their shells
burst with appalling fracas over our batteries, but the brave
British gunners never swerved.[Pg 94] They gave the Boers some smart and
telling replies, and presently, on withdrawing their guns to a new
position, quite defeated the calculations of the enemy, whose shells
now began to fall wide of the mark. The rifle-fire of the Dutchmen
was not so accurate as usual, and was evidently under no control,
though there were sharpshooters who crept under cover for the
purpose of sniping at any prominent person who might be taken for an
officer. As has been stated, there was now no outward or visible
sign of rank, so for the time being the enemy’s efforts were
unsuccessful. They were more deadly—grievously deadly—however,
when the gallant Naval Brigade, the officers of which were
distinguishable by their swords, came to the foot of the hill. The
fire from the kopjes was terrific, and every moment men threw up
their arms and fell. They had advanced in extended order, but in
converging upon the position to be taken, found themselves closed
in, and in that formation attempted the ascent.

Meanwhile the rest of the infantry was moving forward in preparation
for attack. The Northamptons worked from the left round to the
right, where they were joined by the Yorkshires and Northumberlands.
All this time a scene of terrific slaughter was taking place, a
tremendous and unceasing fire being poured from the Boer positions
upon our steadily advancing men. But these were undefeatable, the
2nd Yorkshire Light Infantry, the Marines, and the 1st North
Lancashire acquitting themselves nobly in a most perilous situation.
One after another of their numbers dropped. Stones and sand were
heaped with the mutilated and fainting, and dyed with the life-blood
of trusty comrades that a moment ago had been hearty and hale; but
on they went, these gallant lads, while a storm of shrapnel bellowed
overhead, and bullets whistled past their ears, and dust and dirt
blinded their eyes. With a ringing cheer the Yorkshire men directed
a fusilade towards the crest of the enemy’s sangar, and then the
whole mass crawled up with splendid effort, neared the summit, and
prepared to charge. The Boers, however, began discreetly to remove
themselves to a second position still better intrenched, from whence
they could fire on the British as they gained the top. At this time
the British guns were forced to be almost inactive, as the storming
line was now so near the crest that the shrapnel could only be
directed on the enemy by enfilading the position from the ridge of
the kopje on the left, and it was during the lull that Lieutenant
Taylor, Yorkshire Light Infantry, and Lieutenant Jones, of the
Marines, scaled the sangar.

The next instant there was a roar and a rush, and all were leaping
forward to clear the second position. This was only accomplished
after some desperately hard work and a quarter of an hour’s
hand-to-hand fighting—an eternity it seemed to those engaged—for[Pg 95]
the kopje was stubbornly held. But even Boer pluck, of which in this
case there was no lack, could not resist the impetuous advance of
the British infantry, and at last, when the hill-top was one crimson
crown of blood and half the gallant number were struck down, the
Boers bolted one after another down the back of the hill, pursued by
our artillery fire, and made for their horses. Finally, as they were
retreating in hot haste across the plain, the 9th Lancers charged
them, and succeeded in catching up their rear close to a kopje where
they were sheltering. But here the place literally swarmed with
Dutchmen, and the Lancers, whose numbers were small, and whose
horses were exhausted, were forced to retire.

Still the object of the fight was magnificently accomplished. The
rout of the enemy was complete. The gallant Naval Brigade, Yorkshire
Light Infantry, and Loyal North Lancashires remained masters of the
situation. A party of Boers who had rushed from their sheltering
kopje were intercepted by the detachment of the New South Wales
Lancers, who, charging, forced them back to their hiding-place.

The amazing gallantry of the Marines, who bore the brunt of the
desperate fight, was the subject of general eulogy. Many of these
splendid fellows had three wounds, while some had four. Sixty per
cent. of the officers and sergeants were hit. Nothing could have
been more heroic than the conduct of poor Huddart, who so gloriously
fell in doing his duty.

Captain Le Marchant, Royal Marine Light Infantry, who was left in
command of the Naval Brigade with Lord Methuen’s force after the
action at Graspan, reported as follows: “It is with deep regret that
I have to report the death of Midshipman Huddart, who behaved
magnificently, and still advanced after he had been twice wounded,
until he was finally struck down mortally wounded.” A brother naval
officer also wrote: “At the bottom of the hill Huddart was hit in
the arm, and half-way up he was shot in the leg, but still he
pressed on. On reaching the top of the kopje he was shot through the
stomach and fell.” Captain Le Marchant, when his senior officers
were killed or wounded, led the remnant of the Naval Brigade up the
kopje with splendid pluck and ability.

But magnificent deeds were numerous. Lieutenant W. J. C. Jones,
Royal Marine Light Infantry, though he had a bullet in his thigh,
led his men up the kopje, and only after the day was won consented
to have his wound dressed. Colour-Sergeant Waterhouse was also
mentioned by Lord Methuen, who said in his despatch, “I beg to bring
to your notice No. 1843, Colour-Sergeant Waterhouse, King’s Own
Yorkshire Light Infantry, who at a critical moment acted with great
coolness in shooting down an enemy who had been doing great
execution on our men at 1150 yards.”[Pg 96]

The General deplored the lack of a cavalry brigade and horse
artillery, owing to which he was unable to reap the fruits of his
hard-fought action, and all must unite to condole with this
much-tried commander on the manner in which he had been handicapped
from the first. Lord Methuen in his despatch drew attention to the
excellent work done by the Naval Brigade near the line. He said:—

To show how completely all the British projects were known, a
curious incident of this battle may be quoted. Four men were
captured by Rimington’s Guides, but three of them being unarmed were
released. It was subsequently discovered that these same persons had
taken to the Jacobsdal commando minute details regarding the British
camp, with the result that a Boer force was detached to attack the
station. The total British casualties were estimated at 197,
including twenty killed and seven missing. At the close of the
action, Lord Methuen complimented the members of the Naval Brigade
on their splendid behaviour, and expressed regret at the losses they
had sustained.

The following is the list of officers killed, wounded, and missing
at the battle of Graspan or Enslin of 25th November:—

The following were severely wounded:—

[Pg 97]

Lord Methuen addressed his division in stirring words,
congratulating his men on the work they had done and the hardships
they had surmounted. The work, he said, was the severest
accomplished by the British army for many a long day. Not a single
point, he added, could they afford to give to the enemy. The Boers’
tactics had been proved excellent and their courage admirable. The
gallant General added that when called on to fight for his country,
he preferred to fight against a foe worthy of his steel rather than
against savages, whose sole recommendation was bravery. He hoped
that he and his men had gained each other’s confidence, and that
they would all do their duty to their country as Englishmen should.
Lord Methuen described as dastardly the firing by the enemy on
ambulance waggons, the shooting of a British officer by a wounded
Boer, and the use of Dum-Dum bullets; but he refused to believe that
these acts were characteristic of the enemy; he would give them
credit until he was convinced to the contrary that they wished to
fight fair and square. Addressing the Scots Guards, the General said
that they had acted as he expected his old battalion would.

The troops rested well on the night of the 27th, and on the
following day proceeded towards Modder River, where the General was
aware that the passage of the river would involve a bloody fight. By
this time General Pole-Carew had taken command of the 9th Brigade,
in place of General Featherstonhaugh, who was wounded.

THE BATTLE OF MODDER RIVER

This battle, to use Lord Methuen’s words, was one of the hardest and
most trying fights in the annals of the British army. He might also
have truly said that it was one of the most gloriously-fought
engagements that has been known in modern warfare. On reconnoitring
the enemy’s position, the Boers were found to be strongly entrenched
and concealed behind a fringe of furze and foliage and in front of
trees in the neighbourhood of Modder River. From native sources it
was learnt that the river and the Riet River were fordable
anywhere—a statement which was afterwards found to be entirely
false. The enemy was discovered on the east of the village to be in
strong force and aggressive. His trenches commanded the plain for a
distance of 1600 yards, and there was no means of outflanking him,
as the Modder River was in flood.

The word Modder means muddy, and this term was appreciated in its
full significance when our parched troops came to make acquaintance
with it. But there are times and seasons when even ochreous water
becomes clear as crystal to the fevered imagination, and before this
day of days was over—in the sweltering, merciless[Pg 98] sun, with the
thermometer at 110 degrees in the shade—men felt as though they
would stake their whole chance of existence for one half-bottle of
the reviving fluid. But this is a digression. The horror of that
day’s thirst had barely set in at the time treated of—4 to 8 a.m.
At that hour there was no suspicion that the enemy, strong in
numbers, would continue to fight, and be strengthened by some 8000
more Dutchmen. He appeared to be retiring, and there were no signs
that the village would be held. But at 8.10 a fierce roar of guns
multifarious declared that the river was fringed by the enemy, and
that he was well and skilfully concealed.

Parallel to the river on the north side the Boers had constructed,
with their wonted cunning, long sandbag trenches and various
complicated breastworks, which afforded them splendid cover. The
line extended over some five miles, and they were discovered to be
posted on both sides of the water. Where the stream of the Riet
joins the Modder there is a small and picturesque island some two
acres in extent. It has shelving banks all fringed with willows, and
thus forms an excellent natural cover for troops. Till now this spot
had been the resort of picnickers and pleasure-seekers from the
Diamond City. On the north bank were farmhouses and hotels, which
had been evacuated by their owners and had been taken possession of
by the Boers. Here they had posted guns of every available kind, in
every available spot. They had Hotchkiss guns and Maxim guns, and
the deadly, much-abhorred Vickers-Maxim quick-firer, a machine
which, by the way, was offered some time ago to the British
Government—and refused! This objectionable weapon was christened by
some “Putt-Putt,” by others “Bong-Bong,” and one officer styled it
“the Great Mogul,” because its presence was invariably greeted with
profound salaams and Chinese prostrations. With these guns the enemy
began to show that he meant business, as will be seen.

The division, that had been strengthened by the Argyll and
Sutherland Highlanders, had moved out from Wittekopslaager about 5
a.m., breakfastless, because it was thought that on reaching the
river, which was but a short march of five miles off, there would be
ample time for a meal. But by seven o’clock the fighting had begun.
The General had arranged with the officer commanding the Royal
Artillery to prepare the infantry attack with both batteries from
the right flank, and the Infantry Division being still some miles
distant, he gave them two distinct points to march on, which allowed
of the brigades keeping in extended order and covering a very wide
front.

The Guards Brigade had orders to develop their attack first, which
they did with the 1st Battalion Scots Guards on the right, with
directions to swing their right well round in order to take the[Pg 99]
enemy in flank, the 2nd Battalion Coldstreams and the 3rd Battalion
Grenadiers making the frontal attack, the former on the left to keep
touch with the 9th Brigade; the 1st Battalion Coldstreams in reserve
in the right rear. Well, before they could look about them and
settle down into their positions, the whole force found itself
facing the Boer commando 8000 strong, two large guns, Krupp guns,
&c. The Scots Guards on the extreme right marched through the old
reservoir, and directly they emerged from cover a shower of bullets
greeted them. Soon after their Maxim gun was disabled by the
Hotchkiss gun of the enemy, and presently their whole detachment was
completely wiped out. First the sergeant in charge was killed, then
an officer was wounded, then Colonel Stopford of the Coldstream
Guards was hit in the neck and killed, and the horse ridden by
Colonel Paget was shot in five places and dropped dead. Meanwhile
the 75th Battery in return launched some magnificent shots in the
direction of the Dutchmen. The third of these struck a farmhouse in
which the Boers and a gun were posted, and set the whole place in a
blaze. Not till the roof was burnt about their ears, however, did
the Boers budge. They clung with ferocious tenacity to every
position, and the fight at all times of the day was one of great
stubbornness. The 1st Battalion of the Coldstream Guards had
extended, and, swinging their right round, had prolonged the line of
the Scots Guards to the right. Farther advance was checked by the
Riet River. The troops then lay down, being fairly under cover in
that position. The heat was scorching, and in the plain occupied by
our troops Mauser bullets swept the field in thousands. There was
absolutely no cover save the shelving bank of the river, which
served no purpose directly they rose on elbow from the ground. For
hours our men lay on their faces unable to show a head without
inviting a shower of lead—lay on the blistering sand with the hot
African sun grilling them, some of the Highlanders having their legs
veritably toasted, their mouths parched and full of sand, while
bullets were fluting a death-song in the air, and the thunderous
detonations of the big guns seemed to be raking the very bowels of
the earth. Still the Boers stuck to their posts. For hours they
plied their guns without sign of exhaustion. A terrific fire was
kept up on both sides for a long—a seemingly interminable—time,
but without any appreciable advance in the state of affairs. It was
felt that nothing could be done on the right flank till the guns had
cleared the position. The 18th Battery, however, came vigorously
into play, and so brilliantly acquitted itself that finally the
enemy was forced to evacuate their ferociously-contested positions
among the houses. But so ably had they constructed their
intrenchments that from these it was impossible to dislodge them.
Meanwhile the 9th Brigade had advanced the Northumberland Fusiliers
along[Pg 100] the east side of the railway line, supported by half a
battalion of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. The Yorkshire
Light Infantry moved along the west side of the railway, supported
by the remaining half battalion of the Argyll and Sutherland
Highlanders. The half battalion Loyal North Lancashire prolonged the
line to the left, and endeavoured to cross the river and threaten
the enemy’s right flank. The six companies of Northamptons acted as
a baggage-guard.

Early in the day a plucky attempt was made on the extreme right of
the line to cross the Modder. Colonel Codrington and Captain
Feilding of the 1st Coldstreams, with Captain Selheim of the
Queensland Permanent Force with some two dozen men, forded the
river. The water was almost chin deep, and while they crossed, the
Hotchkiss gun directed an appalling fire on them. Though laden with
all their gear and 150 rounds of ammunition, they yet succeeded in
reaching the other side, where they found themselves almost swamped
in mud. As they were not supported they had to retire. But this was
easier said than done. On the return passage two men were almost
drowned, and had it not been for the ingenious device of their
comrades, who, by joining hands and slinging their putties together,
managed to drag them ashore, they would certainly have perished.

Soon after this the General, who had been moving about surveying and
commanding, was shot through the thigh. Then followed some
confusion, as the two brigades, in the absence of orders, had to act
independently of each other, and there was some fear that the 9th
Brigade would fire on the 1st. Command of the field was now assumed
by Major-General Sir H. E. Colvile, whose headquarters were on the
right close to the river. It had been Lord Methuen’s idea to take
the position at nightfall at the point of the bayonet, but owing to
the tremendous day’s work, the heat, the absence of food, and the
general fatigue that all had undergone, this project was abandoned.
There was another reason for the change of plan.

Just as it was beginning to grow late some of the most brilliant
work of the day commenced. As the trenches were found to be utterly
impregnable to rifle-fire, it was felt that only desperate measures
would rout the Dutchmen from their stronghold. Colonel Barter
(King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry) and Lieutenant Thorpe, with
some men of the Argyll and Sutherland and North Lancashire
Regiments, started off, and, much to the surprise of the Boers, who
had evidently not calculated upon such dauntless agility, got safely
across the river. The wonderful way in which this feat was
accomplished was described by an eye-witness, a correspondent of the
Times.

“That it could even be attempted to cross the river sliding
side[Pg 101]ways through the rush of water over the paddles along a rickety
iron bar one by one, clinging to the short supports in full view of
the opposite shore, was an act of reckless heroism against which
even the wary Cronje had not provided. This, however, is what was
actually done, and it would be difficult to find a parallel for the
stubborn pluck of the men who accompanied Colonel Barter across the
300 yards of dam and weir. One by one some 400 of them crossed. Then
a detachment of the Royal Engineers, showing how well they could
take their part in the forefront of the fighting line, followed
them, after that some more of the Yorkshire Light Infantry. Little
by little a force was collected which cleared several of the nearest
houses on the right and effected an occupation of an irrigation
patch from which they were never dislodged.” It was quite wonderful
to note the effect of the gallant British cheer which rang out from
General Pole-Carew’s men as they burst from the river, bayonet in
hand. The Boers were startled and fled, with our men closely in
pursuit. At the rousing, ringing, menacing sound, their hopes had
failed—they thought that the rumour of victory was already in the
air. “The thunder growl edged with melodious ire in alt,” as Carlyle
called it, never did better work. It demoralised and brought about
the end.

Plan of the Battle of Modder River

Shortly after, a battery of Royal Artillery came upon the scene,[Pg 102]
but before it had time to unlimber, more Boers took to their heels,
falling over each other in their haste to be off and catch their
horses. The sound of British lungs in their rear and the sight of
the guns was too much for them. Thus after twelve hours’ fighting
the day was practically won, for, when morning came, it was found
that the enemy had entirely cleared out, and removed to fresh
intrenchments half-way between the river and Spyfontein.

It was a brilliant but a hardly-earned victory. It is stated that
the Naval guns fired over 500 rounds, and the 18th Battery more than
1100. The 75th fired 900 rounds, the 62nd (who came to the rescue
from the Orange River late in the day), 500 rounds. The glorious
gunners vied with one another in the display of gallantry and
proficiency.

A vivid story of the energetic march of the 62nd Battery was told by
an officer, who must have had an even more trying time than most.

“We had orders to reinforce the main body at once; marched twenty
miles the first day, had a few hours’ rest, and started at the first
streak of dawn again. We did about twenty-five miles, and were just
going to have a well-earned rest when an orderly came galloping up
with the order to go at once (I am talking of the 62nd now), as the
battle was going against our troops. We started off again at a trot,
and kept it up for about five miles, when our horses were just done
up. We had to take four out of our gun-teams, as they dropped dead
of exhaustion. The sergeants hooked their own horses in, and off we
went again. We lost more horses, and had to walk after we had done
about eight miles. We were only able to just make the horses drag
the guns into action. I shall never forget it. I was feeling very
queer. I don’t think any of us were afraid, but we were all of us
expecting to be shot every minute, as the bullets came in
showers…. We were in action in this place about two hours. Our
troops were being shot down in heaps, and things were looking very
black, when Lord Methuen came up to our Colonel and asked him to
send his batteries up closer (we were then 1500 yards from the Boer
trenches, and you must understand that a rifle carries 2500 yards).
Our Colonel did. We then advanced up past our own infantry and came
into action about 900 yards closer than artillery had ever taken up
position before. After severe loss on our side we managed to silence
the Boer guns. The order was then given to retire. We got out of
range, and were on the point of congratulating ourselves on being so
lucky, when up rode an orderly giving us instructions to go and
relieve the Guards. Our Major advanced…. We took up our position
800 yards from the Boer trenches, and, by Jove! the Boers let us
have a fearful reception. Before I got my horses out they shot one
of my drivers[Pg 103] and two horses … and brought down my own horse. We
then got my gun round on the enemy, when one of my gunners was shot
through the brain and fell at my feet. Another of my gunners was
shot whilst bringing up shell, and I began to feel queer…. At last
we had a look in; our shells began to tell. We were firing six
rounds a minute, and were at it until it was too dark to fire any
more. The Boer firing had ceased, and the Guards were able to get up
and retire. They blessed the artillery that day. We had to keep our
position all night, with not a soul near us and nothing to eat and
drink. Our orders were to open fire as soon as it was light enough,
and the infantry were to take the place at the point of the
bayonet…. But in the morning the Boers had fled. The field
presented a terrible sight at daybreak; there were dead and dying in
every direction. I couldn’t describe it; it was awful. We lost
heavily on our side, but the Boer losses must have been heavier. The
Boers bury their dead in the trenches as soon as they drop, so that
one cannot gauge their loss, but we counted hundreds.”

It is pleasant to remember that this hurried march and its trials
were fully appreciated by Lord Methuen, who reported that the 62nd
Battery was of great service. It must be noted that it came into
action between three and four o’clock in the afternoon. The gunners
had made a splendid forced march from Orange River in some
twenty-three hours, yet there and then, with worn-out horses and
jaded frames, joined in the fight.

Heroic actions were so abundant that they made quite a formidable
list in the General’s despatch, but they afford such inspiriting
reading to all who honour Great Britain’s heroes, that the list is
reproduced in its entirety.

There were some miraculous escapes, one sergeant in the Cold[Pg 105]stream
Guards having had many nasty experiences. In an account of them he
said:—

The terrible nature of the fighting was described by an officer in
the Guards, who must have had a charmed life. He wrote:—

In this battle the hardships of warfare were accumulated. Not only
had the troops to display active but passive heroism. Though the
longing for water exceeded the craving for food and repose, the
unfortunate fellows were very near the verge of famine. Their
position at times must have savoured of the tortures of Tantalus,
for many of the men were groping after the enemy in a doubled-up
fashion and under a shower of lead, along farms and gardens, while
hens clacked, pigs grunted, goats offered milk, and potatoes and
other edibles smiled a mute invitation. When the Boers were routed,
however, these delicacies at last became the reward of their
labours, but of the niceties of the culinary operations it is best
not to speak. Our gallant Highlanders needed the services of no
Vatel—an old can and a wood fire right royally served their
purpose. The crossing of the river, which was so splendidly
effected, particularly by the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, was
fraught with[Pg 106] unlooked-for dangers, as the following quotation from
a letter of a private in the regiment will show. Talking of the
enemy he said:—

Indeed they did not, and it was a pathetically common experience to
wish a man good luck one morning and on the next to find that his
helmet and belongings were being gathered together—all that was
left of him—to be sent home to his friends. For instance, there was
the case of poor Colour-Sergeant Christian of the Argyll and
Sutherland Highlanders, a hero who did magnificent work, but who
never lived to receive the decorations he deserved. An extract from
one of his last letters is full of pathetic interest:—

Boer treachery, of which we had many examples, had hitherto been
practised with monotonous regularity. They had fired on the white
flag and disregarded the sacred sign of the red cross. They had shot
the hand that tended them, they had used Dum-Dum and explosive
bullets, but on this occasion the triumph of originality in
treacherous trickery was achieved. On the principle of “all is fair
in love and war,” the enemy utilised their ambulance for the purpose
of removing their Hotchkiss gun from the field, and that too when
the precious weapon was not even invalided!

Tales of many plucky actions which were recorded would fill a volume
in itself. Private Anderson, Scots Guards, over and over again
traversed the fire zone and carried off the wounded to a place of
safety. Lieutenant Fox, Yorkshire Light Infantry, was seriously
wounded whilst valiantly leading an assault against the enemy’s
strong position. When the horses approached to take the guns out of
action, the Boers at once commenced to aim at them, and for the
moment it seemed as though the work of removing the guns could not
be persisted in. Twenty-five horses were killed, but the chargers of
several officers were next utilised, and the officers themselves,
some of them wounded, walked or crawled off the field in order that
the valuable weapons should be borne off in safety. A driver was
also heroically self-abnegating. Though shot through the lungs, he
refused to leave his post, and valiantly drove his gun out of
action.

The list of killed and wounded was a grievously long one:—

AFTER THE FIGHT

All night long energetic members of the Ambulance Corps picked their
way over the battlefield collecting the wounded and succouring them.
Not only had our unhappy sufferers to be attended to, but many of
the enemy, of whom there was an unusual number. So anxious had been
the Dutchmen to clear out before our troops could reach them in the
morning, that, contrary to custom, they had left wounded, doctors,
and ambulance train behind them.

After the uproar of the conflict and the night of merciful repose
were over, the troops were able to inspect their new quarters. The
pretty little village presented a strange sight—a study in
contrasts for the meditative mind. A pastoral calm reigned
everywhere, though scarcely a house, farm, or hotel but could bear
witness to the terrible energy of the British fire.

The scene was one of picturesque green fertility and black blistered
ruin. Peacefully flowed the cool rippling river—the river in which
the delighted Tommy rushed to bathe—while in its bosom lay the
bodies of the slain, Boer men and Boers’ horses, which had hurriedly
been cast away and hidden, so that the full tale of loss might never
be revealed. Serenely waved the willows and acacias on the banks and
neighbouring islets, smiling with polished green leaves over the
forms of the ragged, grimy, unkempt slain—the riffraff of the Boer
commandoes, who were left lying as they fell. The dark trail of
blood dyed the earth round mimosa and cactus hedges, while a
thousand perforations on the roofs of the corrugated iron dwellings
confessed to the all too fervent kisses of British lead. Shell
holes, shattered doors and broken windows, telegraph poles lying
about, with their hairy whiskers twisting raggedly over the veldt,
farmhouses burnt to cinders, hotels that had once been smart in
their way now weevilled by shrapnel—all these things surrounded the
encamped division which so brilliantly had crossed the river. And in
the hearts of the conquerors there was also (in some measure) a
reflection of these contrasts—there was rejoicing over animal
comforts restored, the freedom to quench thirst, to remove boots, to
eat and to smoke after an over-long spell of battle; yet at the same
time, deep down, there lurked a numb and dumb feeling of regret for
the good fellows who were going—were known[Pg 109] to be sinking into
eternity, and for those—so many of them!—who had already gone.

Very simple but very sad and impressive was the funeral of Colonel
Stopford, who was shot early in the fight the day before. His grave
was made in a peaceful spot beside one of the gardens of the
village, and garlands gathered by his men of the 2nd Coldstream
Guards were placed all over it. Major the Marquis of Winchester—so
soon to join his lost comrade—acted as chief mourner. He took over
the duties of Commandant of the regiment, which duties he was doomed
to perform for twelve days only. But we are anticipating.

During the whole of the days following, a melancholy procession of
invalids passed to the railway, and on, home for good, or to
hospital, whence they hoped to return again to pay their debt to the
enemy. On some death had set his mark, with others he had but shaken
hands and passed on.

The river was soon found to be crowded with dead men and horses,
which had been hurriedly consigned to the mercy of the waters, and
arrangements had to be made for encampment farther up the stream.
Quantities of Boer spies still lingered about the camp, some of them
pretending to be ambulance drivers, in order to get nearer and
closer inspection of British movements. Fortunately these wily folk
somewhat overreached themselves, and their further activities were
interrupted by arrest.

Meanwhile the sappers wrought wonderful things. They had shown the
stuff they were made of by crossing over the river-dam in the teeth
of the enemy. They now demonstrated their ability in their own
special line. The Modder bridge was entirely wrecked, but very
speedily a temporary one was constructed, and the railway, which had
also suffered at the hands of the enemy, was repaired with great
celerity, and brought into working order. Lieutenant Crispin of the
Northumberland Fusiliers was wounded while out on patrol duty.
Fortunately the injury sustained by Lord Methuen was slight, and
there was every hope that he would be equal to active duty in the
course of a very few days.

We must now leave this division in the enjoyment of its well-earned
repose and return to Ladysmith, which was fast becoming the cage of
9000 of our gallant troops.

[Pg 110]

CHAPTER IV

THE INVESTMENT OF LADYSMITH

Before going farther it may be interesting to inspect a rough table
showing approximately the composition and total strength of the
British and Boer forces at the various points mentioned:—

At Tuli, or moving towards Mafeking, was Colonel Plumer’s column,
which consisted of about 1000 men, and was opposed by an equal force
of Boers.[Pg 111]

At Palapye there was a British force of 700, which was watched by a
Burgher force of about 1000.

The Boers had also a force estimated at 3000 in laager near Komati
Poort.

At Estcourt there was a considerable force under Brigadier-General
Wolfe-Murray, and at Pietermaritzburg other troops.

Distributed along the northern border of Cape Colony were some 5000
Free State Boers and about 1000 or 1500 British troops and police.

The Natal Field Force was now confronted with the bulk of the Boer
commandoes, whose strength was vastly superior to its own, and whose
courage was generally acknowledged to be splendid. The Dutch have
ever a stoical stolidity which serves them in the hour of need as
does the bulldog tenacity of the Briton, and therefore “those who
knew” were not without apprehension in regard to the upshot of
hostilities. It was plain to all who were in any way familiar with
previous history and with local conditions that the struggle was
likely to be both prolonged and bloody, and they urged on the
attention of those at home the need of reinforcements. Yet the
soldiers, particularly those who had recently arrived, were
light-hearted and confident, full of satisfaction to be let loose
from their hencoops in the ships, and keen to try conclusions with
the Boers. At Ladysmith the state of affairs was becoming more and
more complicated, and the invasion of the Free Staters into Cape
Colony was now an accomplished fact. The enemy’s tactics everywhere
were acknowledged to be excellent, and where tactics failed tricks
succeeded. The Boer dodges, though scarcely honourable, might be
described by the Americans as “cute.” For instance, an enterprising
officer of the Transvaal artillery conceived the idea of utilising
the flag of truce in a new and original fashion. Disguised as an
ambulance driver, he arrived at Ladysmith, and improved the occasion
by observing the effects of Boer artillery fire on the town.

The use of the white flag by the enemy was now beginning to be
distrusted, for daily evidences of treachery were forthcoming. As
one correspondent said in writing home of the subject, “Its
advantages they seem to construe in too liberal a spirit, but of its
obligations on the men who hoist it they do not appear to be aware.”
As in old times, they tried to use the white flag to assist them in
going from cover to cover, or to create delay while guns were being
adjusted in more convenient positions. Nor was this all. A wounded
Boer accepted water with one hand from a British soldier, while he
shot him with the other, and numberless accounts of dastardly deeds
of a similar nature were reported and authenticated.

On November 2 the Boers began to occupy the points of vantage around
Ladysmith, and telegraphic communication with the[Pg 112] south was cut.
They energetically commenced the building of emplacements for their
guns of position, which were fast being forwarded from the
Transvaal. Reinforcements from the Free State were also pouring in,
and a Boer commando was creeping towards Colenso. In spite of
threatened serious inconveniences, hopes were high and spirits
cheery, especially among the newspaper correspondents, who,
regardless of danger, drove four-in-hand round the camp and
fortifications, and helped to maintain a devil-may-care attitude
that was certainly reassuring. Ammunition was plentiful, but
water—Klip water—was somewhat inclined to cause colic, and, in
consequence, to be generally suspected. It was no uncommon sight to
see at the Royal Hotel ladies heating their kettles prior to
drinking their doubtful contents. Flies were so numerous as to make
another persistent inconvenience. They destroyed such repose as the
inhabitants might otherwise have enjoyed. Added to these petty
discomforts were night-alarms of various kinds, and curious and
disconcerting discoveries. For example, one young man—an immaculate
young man—well turned out and apparently plentifully endowed with
ready money, was discovered to be a Boer spy, and was promptly
arrested. An account of the last days of a British sojourner in
Ladysmith serves to give an example of the trials and anxieties
through which hundreds had to pass:—

“Since my last note to you we have had some lively times of it at
Ladysmith. I always had a liking to see a real battle, but never
thought that it would be my luck. However, I have now seen four
battles, and I think that I am satisfied. I can assure you that it
is anything but pleasant to go on the field after battle. The sights
of the wounded and dead are horrible, and yet the soldiers are
always laughing and joking when they are going out to fight, and the
poor fellows are getting very little rest. They never have a chance
to get their boots off. They have to be always ready to move at a
moment’s notice, and they do it with light heart. Your heart would
have ached to see the lot that came down to Ladysmith from Dundee.
They were not strong enough for the Boers, so they made a forced
march of it, and they had terribly bad weather. It was raining all
the time, and when they came into Ladysmith they were mud all over
and in rags. Some of them were carrying their boots in their hands
and could hardly crawl. Mrs. V. and myself made some buckets of
coffee and let them have a pull at it; and were not they thankful
for it? A word about how we are going on here. I don’t know whether
you are getting any news at home about the war, but we can’t get to
know anything here, as the whole country is under martial law, and
they won’t let the papers publish any news concerning the war….
Now the Boers are all round Ladysmith, and our troops can only
defend the town. I don’t think for a[Pg 113] moment that the Boers will
take Ladysmith unless they get strongly reinforced, and I don’t
think that will happen. However, the sooner that troops arrive for
the relief of the garrisons that are here and hemmed in by the Boers
the better it will be for Britain. There is no doubt about it that
the Boers have got our troops in a tight corner, and Britain is a
bit slow, not having her troops here before now. I hear that troops
are likely to land next week, and I hope that it is true. I had to
leave Ladysmith on November 2; the military authorities would not
grant me a permit to stay, so they gave me my free pass to Durban,
where I intend to stop until the trouble is over. You would have
laughed to see some of the men running out into the street with no
clothes on when the Boers sent their first shell into Ladysmith. It
came into the town at 5.15 a.m. I was up and partly dressed, as I
had heard the firing, and was going to have a look at the battle,
when in came the shell right over the house I was staying in and
dropped on the road. I was sure that it was going to hit the house.
The shell makes a terrific whistling as it travels through the
air…. The Bluejackets did some very good work. They arrived by
train about eleven o’clock, and by twelve o’clock they had
off-loaded their guns and got them into action, and their third shot
silenced the Boers’ 40-pounder.”

Our cavalry while reconnoitring discovered a large force of the
Boers which was manœuvring to the south of the town. The troopers
charged, and succeeded in cutting their way through the enemy.
Meanwhile at Grobler’s Kloof the Volunteer Light Infantry, a corps
that had been doing splendid work throughout, met the enemy, and a
sharp encounter was maintained, but they were outnumbered by their
assailants. An armoured train brought troops to their assistance,
and these enabled them to return safely to headquarters. The naval
gunners were active, and scored as usual, for they finally succeeded
in putting the big gun on Hepworth Hill out of action. “Long Tom,”
an objectionable weapon and a great favourite with the enemy, was
now posted on Mount Umbulwana, whence at intervals it spat viciously
upon the town, but without causing serious damage. The enemy, as we
know, made a move towards Colenso, and the officer commanding at
that place decided to fall back with men and horses on Estcourt. The
move over some twenty miles of hilly country was admirably executed,
and all stores, huts, kit, &c., were preserved.

Meanwhile Sir George White sent out a strong force under the command
of Colonel Brocklehurst, reinforced by the 5th Dragoon Guards,
Royston’s Horse, and two batteries, for the purpose of making a
flank attack on the Boer commando that was advancing on Colenso.
Splendid work was done, the Boers being routed from all their
positions and three guns silenced. The Imperial Light[Pg 114] Horse pressed
too far into a gully, and for a time their position was critical,
but they were extricated by the 5th Dragoon Guards. The Boers took
up a strong position on the hills, and were shelled with terrific
effect by the British artillery. Finally they retreated, and were
cut to pieces by the cavalry. Quantities of prisoners were made, and
over a thousand burghers were said to be slain—in fact, the veldt
was a complete parquet of dead Dutchmen. Lieutenant the Hon. R.
Pomeroy, 5th Dragoon Guards, greatly distinguished himself by
pluckily riding to the rescue of a dismounted trooper and carrying
him out of the fire zone. Captain Knapp and Lieutenant Brabant were
killed.

At Ladysmith there was temporary peace after the enemy’s fire had
succeeded in hitting the hospital and a hotel. Fortunately no one
was injured. All were mourning the loss of Major Taunton, Captain
Knapp, and Lieutenant Brabant, who fell in the engagement on the
previous day. General French, by what is termed “a close shave,”
succeeded in getting out of Ladysmith, and went down to Cape Town to
take over the command of the Cavalry Brigade, and General
Wolfe-Murray at Estcourt, with a mounted battery, reconnoitred in
the direction of Colenso. Efforts were made to restore communication
with Ladysmith, but in vain; yet the troops within kept up a
cheerful attitude, and a continuous artillery duel was carried on
between besiegers and besieged.

The art of dodging shells had by this time begun to be studied by
the least nervous, for no place was safe from these screeching
messengers of death. Hard roadways were rent in twain and deep gulfs
dug in their midst. Gardens, from being trim and neat, became a
scene of upheaval and dilapidation; the open veldt was strewed with
dust and debris, and rocks were shot from their positions and sent
hurtling here and there to assist in the work of wreckage. It was
curious to notice upon different temperaments the effect of the
shells’ arrival. Some persons might be seen holding their hands to
their heads as though to protect them from damage; others shrank
under the nearest available cover or screwed themselves up as though
endeavouring to make smaller parcels of themselves, or hoping to
lessen their own obstructiveness to the passage of the devilish
invader; some would flatten their backs against a wall—make
pancakes of themselves—while others would fall prone to earth, and
there grovel till the moment of peril was past. Many would rush
helter-skelter towards the river-caves, vast places of refuge that
had been dug into the deep-shelving clay and sandbanks of the Klip,
and there, in their rocky hiding-places, breathe freely and await
the inevitable fracas that told them, temporarily, that the coast
was clear. These caves and their powers of accommodation began to be
deeply interesting to the community, and daily the[Pg 115] soldiers were
set to work constructing new ones for the safety of the
apprehensive. The places varied in size and quality according to the
demands of their tenants. Some would accommodate a dozen people
standing upright in them, and even admitted of furniture of a rough
kind—bedding, seats, eatables, and cooking-pots—just enough to
enable nervous folks to go “out of town” for a day or two during a
period of bombardment. Others were mere fox-holes, as it were,
alcoves scooped out of the bank to serve as a screen for the more
hardy souls who were content to breathe the air of the river-brink,
and only popped their heads under cover in ostrich fashion when
danger threatened. The banks thus became honeycombed, and it was not
unusual to find a whole family perched all day long with their backs
against the protecting wall and their eyes fixed meditatively on the
purling stream, awaiting with resignation the whims of “Long Tom.”

In the early days of the siege a great deal of scooping and
excavating went on, and you might see on one side some gallant
tiller of the soil providing cover for a lady, while another rigged
up sheltered garden-seats for children. An amusing picture was
beheld of three massive Gordons in their kilts plying pick and
shovel for a small couple in distress, a natty little woman in a
state of panic which agreed badly with her smart ribbons, and her
small lord who shared her anxiety for a place of safety. The
Scotsmen delved and scooped and built the temporary shelter,
indulging in the gayest jokes, and laughing and talking the while
delicious “Aberdeen awa,'” till the hearers became so absorbed and
interested that they almost forgot the fact that such a thing as a
“Long Tom” existed. The daily operations were also of a
highly-spirited character, for the British forces not only defended
themselves with the greatest animation against artillery somewhat
superior to their own, but at times took the offensive and harassed
the enemy considerably. On three different occasions they made
attacks on the Boer batteries on Umbulwana Hill, and though the
British losses were somewhat heavy, those of the Boers were still
greater. A message was sent by Sir George White to General Joubert
requesting him to allow women, children, and non-combatants to leave
the town in order to escape the effects of the bombardment, and the
Boer General invited those who wished to go, to do so under
protection of the Umbulwana guns, but intimated that all who had
borne arms would be treated as prisoners of war. Finally, however,
after a meeting had been held and the matter discussed threadbare,
it was decided that the citizens of Ladysmith could accept no terms
from the enemy, and the meeting dispersed to the tune of “God save
the Queen,” in which all fervently joined in chorus. The only means
of communication with the outer world was now by pigeon-post, and
there was therefore much[Pg 116] excitement when Lieutenant Hooper (5th
Lancers) arrived on the scene. Guided by a Natal policeman, he had
managed to sneak unnoticed through the Boer lines and to reach the
British camp in safety.

All sorts of efforts were made to save Ladysmith from her doom, and
an armoured train was sent from Estcourt for the purpose of
reestablishing communication with the town, but the train had to
return without accomplishing its mission. In spite of this, the
proprietor of a hotel in Ladysmith very cleverly managed to travel
from the beleaguered town to Estcourt without being captured by the
Boers. He made a detour along Kaffir paths in order to elude the
Boer outposts, riding all night and arriving at his destination
unharmed. At that time, as may be imagined, the investment of
Ladysmith was almost complete. The enemy’s big guns dominated the
town east, north, and west, “Long Tom” pursuing its annoying and
disquieting vocation with intermittent vigour. Most of the people
had now quitted their homes and were taking refuge in the caves
before described, while the shops, in default of customers, were
closed. The convent, which was occupied by nuns together with the
wounded, was struck by a shell, but happily without injury to its
inmates. The neutrals betook themselves to a camp under Mount
Umbulwana, which some inventive person appropriately christened
“Funkumdorf,” but there some plucky women and children refused to
go, preferring to cast in their lot with the valiant defenders of
the little town. At this time people and horses were still in good
condition and spirits; the military inhabitants amused themselves
with polo and cricket, as though there was no chance of being bowled
out by “Long Tom,” while the ladies gave little concerts for the
amusement of the select circle. So great was the pluck of this
little community, that they even edited a paper called the
Ladysmith Lyre, a species of Transvaal edition of Truth, which,
if not vero, was certainly ben trovato.

A new instance of the Boers’ treachery soon took place. They sent in
under a flag of truce a number of refugees from the Transvaal. They
were met outside the pickets by a flag of truce from Ladysmith, but
no sooner had the parties separated, and before the British could
reach the pickets, than the Boers fired upon them. These continued
breaches of the laws of civilised warfare continued to exasperate
the troops, who, whenever they got a chance, naturally tried to wipe
off old scores.

On the 9th November, the King’s Royal Rifles and the Rifle Brigade
in the north, and the Manchester Regiment in the south, succeeded in
repelling two simultaneous attacks, inflicting on the Boers a loss
roughly estimated at about 700 to 1000. A deep trench which had been
made by the enemy on their temporary retirement, to bring forward
horses, was promptly captured by the Rifle Brigade. From thence,
when the Boers returned, they were[Pg 117] briskly fired on, with the
result that they retreated in hot haste across open ground. Taking
advantage of this opportunity, the artillery commenced an effective
fire, inflicting on the Dutch considerable loss. The Manchester
Regiment, which occupied a position at Cæsar’s Camp, for the purpose
of protecting the south-western side of the town, caught several
hundred Boers hiding from shells in a ditch. They poured on them
several volleys, and the enemy suffered severely. Unfortunately,
Lieutenant Lethbridge (Rifle Brigade) was mortally wounded, and
Lieutenant Fisher, of the Manchesters, received a slight wound in
the shoulder. About noon, after seven hours’ continuous fighting,
the combined attack upon the town failed and the Boers retired.
Then, in honour of the Prince of Wales’s birthday, the big guns in
the Naval redoubts commenced a salute of twenty-one guns, each shot
in stately procession following the other and bursting over the Boer
positions. Outside the battery, on King Kop, stood Sir George White
surrounded by his Staff. The General led the way by raising three
cheers for the Prince, and then Captain Lambton and the gunners on
the top of the breastwork took up the roar and passed it on to the
Rifle Brigade, lying in their sangars along the top of the ridge,
till the whole atmosphere was vibrant with loud and prolonged
cheering. In the evening the troops drank to the health of his Royal
Highness, and succeeded in sending home telegraphic congratulations.
On that day the townspeople, for greater safety, went into laager on
the racecourse, and the military lines were removed some three miles
out, so as to avoid the persistent shelling of the enemy. Major
Gale, R.E., was wounded while sending a message.

Efforts were made to establish heliographic communication between
Estcourt and Ladysmith, but the atmospheric conditions were entirely
against the success of the operation. Bombardment continued, and
life was pursued to the continuous thunder of the Naval guns firing
lyddite and the “Long Toms” of the Boers, now within a three-mile
range, replying with persistent and deadly reverberation. But the
community in Ladysmith were not so depressed by their incarceration
as to lose the spirit of fun altogether. In default of other
entertainment, they beguiled the time by indulging in various
practical jokes at the expense of the Boers. The greatest
achievement was the preparation of a smart dummy, on which the irate
Dutchmen wasted a considerable amount of ammunition. The effigy was
manufactured of straw and attired in the uniform of the Lancers, by
whom it was modelled. Its imposing form, placed near the Boer
position, had an air of lifelike reality, and naturally the enemy
jumped at a chance of riddling so venturesome a foe. Away whistled
Mauser bullets round the head[Pg 118] of the supposed courageous Lancer,
who budged never a bit. Shot failing—the big gun was turned on.
Bang, bang! Boom, boom! Still was the warrior unperturbed. After
considerable expenditure of both shot and shell, the truth, much to
the disgust of the assailants, dawned upon them!

So pleasing was the success of this manœuvre, that the
Liverpools, for further recreation, got up a miniature Tussaud’s.
They arrayed a row of martial effigies, and waited with the glee of
school-boys while the artillery from the neighbouring hills pounded
away at what they imagined to be some dauntless Britons who dared to
defy them.

Efforts to signal to Ladysmith by heliograph still continued to
fail, at least to reach those for whom the display was intended,
though the Boer heliograph graciously acknowledged the
communication. It answered jocosely, “Will be with you to-morrow.”
The British reply was monosyllabic! The pigeon-post medium was
resorted to, and by this means those outsiders struggling for its
relief were informed that with Ladysmith all was well.

The process of pigeon postal communication was exceedingly
interesting. Mr. Arthur Hirst, who at the onset of the war had
started a loft of the best Yorkshire racing pigeons at Durban,
settled himself at the Intelligence Department Headquarters,
Ladysmith, and from thence sent out his intelligent birds. Of these
he had[Pg 119] some 200, all of which were trained by himself and his
assistants. His early experiments were most successful. He
despatched thirteen pigeons to Durban, a distance of 200 miles, yet
they arrived safely with messages within five hours. The birds were
returned from thence for more work. After that time Mr. Hirst
continued training a hundred young birds to travel from the seat of
war to Ladysmith, and great interest was taken by all who began to
understand that news of the outer world would shortly be very
limited indeed.

On the 14th the Free State troops took up a position on a small
kopje whence a British battery strove to rout them. There was some
smart cannonading, till the British were forced to fall back on the
town. Their day assault over, the Boers tried a new experiment, that
of a midnight attack. All the Afrikander cannon simultaneously
opened fire on the town, turning the sleeping scene into a lurid
inferno. Several buildings caught fire, and the whistling and
shrieking shells at intervals made terrifying music in the weird
silence of the night.

ESTCOURT

Opinions regarding Estcourt differ. Some consider it a picturesque
and verdant little village, placed in the bosom of the hills and
very similar to a Sussex hamlet on the Downs. Others have described
it as well deserving the name of being the hottest and most
unpleasant region in the high veldt of Natal. It is in the thorn
country, and is surrounded with rough irregular kopjes. The railway
bridge over the Bushman’s River is an imposing structure, and the
line leads from Durban to Maritzburg, Colenso, and Ladysmith, and
thence to the Orange Free State and the Transvaal. A little lower
down the river is a substantial bridge that runs across from
Estcourt to Fort Napier, a quaint-looking structure, neither
ornamental nor useful, for hills behind and round it command the
situation. Thus commanded, it is utterly indefensible, and would
need an army corps to hold it. The garrison, under Brigadier-General
Wolfe-Murray, at this time consisted of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers,
the Border Regiment, one squadron of Imperial Light Horse, Natal
Field Artillery, and some scouts. This small force would have been
absolutely inadequate to the defence of the place had it been
seriously attacked. The Boers in hordes were supported at Colenso by
heavy guns, while the British troops that had to evacuate that
village had but one obsolete nine-pounder manned by volunteers. The
absence of good guns was everywhere deplored. At Ladysmith the
position was merely saved by the hasty arrival at the very last
moment of the Naval Brigade with their formidable weapons, and at
Colenso the regrettable evacuation was obligatory solely on account
of the[Pg 120] lack of guns. The depressing effect of retreat on the
unhappy colonists who had their homes in the neighbourhood may be
imagined.

From Estcourt on a clear day, with a northerly wind blowing, the
exciting sound of hostilities in the neighbourhood of Ladysmith was
distinctly to be heard, the deep bass of “Long Tom” booming upon the
air, while the heavy baritone of the 4.7 Naval guns kept up the
diabolical duet. Intense curiosity as to the doings of the besieged
prevailed, but it was impossible to do more than mount up some of
the highest hills and look down into the cup of shadow where
Ladysmith was known to be. In that direction the hollow presented
the air of an active volcano, volumes of smoke floating upwards, and
spreading their message of bombardment and resistance far and wide.
But nothing active could be done. The tiny garrison, it was true,
was receiving reinforcements, but these came in by driblets. General
Wolfe-Murray engaged himself in planning defences which should at
all events make Estcourt into a hard nut to crack, and caused
redoubts and intrenchments to be constructed so that the place might
be safe against such attack as the Boers would make. The troops were
kept in excellent training, to ensure their fitness to take the
field at a moment’s notice.

On the 9th of November there was general satisfaction owing to the
safe arrival, under a flag of truce, of ninety-eight wounded from
Dundee. The officers among them were Colonel Beckett of the Natal
Field Force, Major Hammersley, Lancashire Fusiliers; Captain Adam,
A.D.C.; Captain M’Lachlan, Major Boultbee, King’s Royal Rifles;
Lieutenant C. N. Perreau, Captain Dibly, Dublin Fusiliers; and
Lieutenant B. de W. Weldon of the Leicesters. There was also some
grim rejoicing in hearing reports that were brought in that the
Boers in their attack on Ladysmith had suffered severely, and that
Bester’s Farm, to meet the strain, had been turned by them into a
hospital. The first detachment of the long-looked-for division was
now expected, and every one in camp began already to think the siege
of Ladysmith might be considered a thing of the past.

Nothing warlike took place for some days. On the 14th, however, at
noon, the sound of three guns gave evidence that parties of the
enemy had somewhere made their appearance. The garrison—now
counting the West Yorks—numbering some 3000 men, stood to arms.
Colonel Martyn, in command of the mounted troops, at once started
off in the direction whence a crackling of musketry proceeded. The
Boers, in some force, were located on the summit of a hill firing at
our scouts, who quickly retired. Two guns of the Natal Field
Artillery were at once sent for, but their arrival was a signal for
the enemy to beat a hasty retreat.[Pg 121] Their retirement was merely
momentary, however, for they went along a chain of hills, and
appeared again on another eminence in full force. A squadron of the
Natal Carabineers attempted to turn their flank for the purpose of
ascertaining their strength, and in so doing estimated their numbers
at about 500; any effort to dislodge so large a party would
therefore have been useless, and Colonel Martyn with his small force
was just about to retire to the hills above Estcourt, when the Boers
were observed to be on the move. They were evidently preparing to
clear off, which they rapidly did, particularly when assisted by a
volley from the Natal Carabineers, whose nimble horses clambered up
to the crest with marvellous celerity. After this, in default of
sufficient cavalry, there was no choice but to retire. Men and
horses were absolutely “dead beat.” The expedition, with the
mounting of the almost impregnable hill, had occupied six hours.
This, however, was only an example of the many, almost daily,
encounters that were necessary to arrest the enemy in his advance to
the south.

ARMOURED TRAIN DISASTER AT CHIEVELEY

So little is known by civilians of the nature and appearance of
armoured trains, which played so prominent a part in the war, that a
rough sketch of the “altogether” of one of these ungainly and
diabolical machines may here be given. Armoured trains are
hastily-constructed affairs, consisting of a locomotive and a few
waggons, the engine generally being located about the middle of the
train. The waggons and locomotive are covered by boiler-plating
three-quarters of an inch thick, as firmly riveted as time will
allow. One of these trains was constructed at Mafeking, where there
are several railway shops, the town being on the new main line from
the Cape to Buluwayo. The locomotive is the only part of the train
that does not carry guns, the steel casing being solely to protect
the mechanism of the engine from the shot of the enemy. The
remainder of the armour is thickly perforated with portholes,
through which guns of varying calibre peep, the Maxim, Nordenfeldt,
and Gatling being the most serviceable weapons for this kind of
work. The smaller holes are for the rifles of the marksmen, and
usually the deadliest shots in a regiment are, when possible,
selected for the position. It takes an expert marksman to shoot with
satisfactory results from a quickly-moving train. Usually an
armoured train is also supplied with a powerful searchlight, in view
of a possible night attack. Of course, the boiler tubing can offer
no resistance to artillery. In fact, rifle shots fired at short
range will sometimes penetrate the plates, and to meet such a
possibility sand-bags are often provided, as was the case in the
Egyptian cam[Pg 122]paign, when the Sirdar found the armoured train of
great service. The man in command of an armoured train thinks first,
when an emergency arises, of his engine. So long as that remains in
workable condition the odds are on his side; but once the vital
parts of the locomotive are damaged, the outlook becomes serious,
for an armoured train can only carry a small body of men, who would
be quickly surrounded by the enemy, who might number hundreds or
thousands. The chances are that an armoured train could not be
damaged to such an extent unless artillery, dynamite, or some
equally destructive force were used.

A machine of this kind, but of third-rate pretensions, was now
continually used by the troops at Frere for the purpose of
discovering the whereabouts of the enemy, and on the 15th of
November an exciting and disastrous voyage was made in the
“death-trap,” as it was called. The troops had orders to proceed
from Estcourt to Frere, and beyond if possible, to ascertain how far
the line was practicable for the passage of an army.

The crew of this train consisted of Captain Haldane (Gordon
Highlanders), in command of some seventy non-commissioned officers
and men of the Dublin Fusiliers, Lieutenant Frankland, Captain
Wylie, and Lieutenant Alexander, with forty-five non-commissioned
officers and men of the Durham Light Infantry, and five Bluejackets
under a petty officer. Mr. Winston Spencer Churchill, who was acting
as war correspondent to the Morning Post, also accompanied the
party, and in addition to him were certain railway employees to
repair damages. No sooner had the train got to Frere and telegraphed
“all well” than trouble began. It started to go still farther
forward, in spite of the fact that natives were seen gesticulating
warnings. On reaching Chieveley Station, it was found that there
were Boers, who had hitherto been lying in ambush, eagerly looking
out for them. These were posted in large numbers on either side of
the line. Of course, the train began at once to steam back, but even
as it did so a volley was poured on it from the enemy. With hideous
clatter the bullets thudded on the iron, and several cannon began at
once to play on the unlucky machine. Then, to add to its
misfortunes, without pause or warning of any kind, the trucks
suddenly, with a jerk and a crash, leapt into the air. They, at
least, appeared to do so, overturning in the act, and shooting their
contents helter-skelter, “like potatoes out of a sack.” The words
are quoted from the description of a sufferer who himself
experienced the unpleasant sensation. Several of the men were
mortally injured. A platelayer was killed on the spot. The cause of
the disaster was simple and easily to be explained. The Boers had
laid a trap for the train, and placed an impediment on the rails
behind it, so that on its retreating journey it should[Pg 123] become a
complete wreck, and thus place the troops entirely at their mercy.
And their ingenious machinations succeeded.

The enemy, triumphant, then opened fire with a Maxim and two
9-pounders from a kopje covered with brushwood, while Boer
sharpshooters hidden in dongas and behind boulders also assisted.
The Dublins and Volunteers fought gallantly; thrice they drove the
enemy back, but the brave fellows, already suffering from the shock
of having been shot with great force on the line, were from the
first at a disadvantage, and unable at once to gather themselves
together to meet the instantaneous fire of the Dutchmen. All they
could do was to scramble to their feet—some were too securely
jammed under the trucks to be freed—take up a position as firm as
barked knees and bruised spines would allow, and defend themselves
against the sudden attack. Mr. Churchill and Lieutenant Frankland
immediately called for volunteers to help in clearing the line. Many
hearty voices responded. Wildly they worked amid a hailstorm of
bullets to free the engine and remove the wreckage, Mr. Churchill,
between the screams of the injured and the rattling of the rifles,
rallying the men and helping them, though every moment volley after
volley picked off some of their numbers and sensibly thinned them.
Some of these men were not only men but marvels; they worked with
the zeal of giants and the pluck of heroes. Vigorously the Dublins
and Durhams continued to fire at the unseen enemy, while the rest of
the party by sheer main force got the engine into working order,
smashing everything in its way, and packing it, as tenderly as
possible, with the helpless creatures whose groans and cries were in
themselves enough to make the blood of the stoutest hearts run cold.
Every man seemed bent on eclipsing the courage of his comrade and
following the example set by the gallant war correspondent. Sergeant
Bassett of the Dublins roared his orders with firm and steady voice,
giving his men the range with an air of cool unconcern that was
truly reassuring, while Wright of the Durham Light Infantry was also
conspicuous. During the turmoil he fired from the knee in the
regular position, and was as calm and collected as if he had been at
a rifle-range. With each shot he cracked a joke and kept his
comrades from getting excited. All this time the poor fellow was
wounded, half his right ear having been shot away. Private Kavanagh,
the wag of the Dublins, chaffed his comrades, telling them the Boer
shells were harmless, they could hit nothing “at all, at all!” and
Corporal Dickie, though wounded and lying on his back, continued to
bellow to his mates, “Give ’em beans, boys! give ’em beans!” And
meanwhile Mr. Churchill, though rained on with lead and almost
stunned by the noise, was coolly giving directions for the lifting
of the wounded and for the moving of the engine. Finally, he had the
satisfaction of[Pg 124] getting the engine and tender safely charged with
their mutilated human freight and started on the melancholy return
journey. Swiftly the train steamed off, protected by the fire of
Dublins and Durhams, and as it did so, Mr. Churchill, who went with
it a little way, but who had stoutly refused all requests to
continue farther, returned to the help of such of the wounded as had
been left behind. His noble self-sacrifice, however, was of no
avail. Directly afterwards he was set on by the enemy and made a
prisoner, in company with two brave officers, Captain Haldane and
Lieutenant Frankland, and fifty-eight of the wounded. The
unfortunate party was then marched in the pouring rain to Colenso.
On the following morning they were taken to the Boer camp before
Ladysmith, and thence via Modder Spruit to Pretoria. In the course
of the journey a great concourse of persons crowded to see the
captured, and in justice to the Boers it must be said that there was
only one exception to prove the rule that courtesy on all sides was
observed.