[Pg i]

[Pg ii]

[Pg iii]

South Africa
and the
Transvaal War

BY

LOUIS CRESWICKE

AUTHOR OF “ROXANE,” ETC.

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS

IN SIX VOLUMES

VOL. III.—FROM THE BATTLE OF COLENSO,
15^TH DEC. 1899, TO LORD ROBERTS’S ADVANCE INTO
THE FREE STATE, 12^TH FEB. 1900

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

MANCHESTER: KENNETH MACLENNAN, 75 PICCADILLY

1900

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CONTENTS—Vol. III.

[Pg vi]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS—Vol. III.

[Pg vii]

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE—Vol. III.

DECEMBER 1899.

17.—Field-Marshal Lord Roberts, K.P.,
G.C.B., V.C., &c., appointed Commander-in-Chief
in South Africa,
with Lord Kitchener of Khartoum
as his Chief of the Staff.

War Office issued orders under which
the remaining portion of the Army
A Reserve were called up; and
large reinforcements were to proceed
to South Africa without
delay.

General Gatacre advanced from
Sterkstroom to Putters Kraal.

General French established his headquarters
at Arundel.

Offers of Second Contingents by the
Colonies accepted.

18.—Additional Battalions of Militia embodied.
There were now fifty-four
Battalions of Militia embodied.

Sir Charles Warren and the Staff
of the Fifth Division left Cape
Town.

Reconnaissance by General French.
Sortie from Ladysmith.

19.—Important order issued from the
War Office, announcing that the
Government had decided to raise
for service in South Africa a
Mounted Infantry force, to be
called “The Imperial Yeomanry.”
The force to be recruited from the
Yeomanry.

21.—Mr. Winston Churchill arrived at
Lourenço Marques after an adventurous
journey.

23.—Departure of Lord Roberts from
London and Southampton for the
Cape.

24.—Dordrecht occupied by General
Gatacre.

Sortie from Mafeking.

Two British officers captured by
Boers near Chieveley.

25.—Bluejackets blew up Tugela Road
bridge, and cut off Boers with
their guns.

Colonel Dalgety with Mounted
Police and Colonial troops held
Dordrecht. (Gatacre’s Division.)

26.—Sir Charles Warren arrived at the
Natal front.

Boers appeared at Victoria West.

Mafeking force attacked a Boer fort.

27.—Boers unsuccessfully bombarded
Ladysmith.

28.—H.M.S. Magicienne captured German
liner Bundesrath, near Delagoa
Bay, with contraband of war on
board.

30.—Skirmish near Dordrecht. Boers
defeated with loss. Two British
officers captured through mistaking
Boers for New Zealanders.

JANUARY 1900.

1.—Enrolment of the first draft of the
City Imperial Volunteers.

Surrender of Kuruman, after a stout
resistance, to the Boers. Twelve
officers and 120 police captured.

General French occupied a kopje
overlooking Colesberg. Flight of
Boers, leaving their wrecked guns
and quantities of stores.

Brilliant manœuvre by Lieutenant-Colonel
Pilcher at Sunnyside.
Captured the entire Boer camp,
made forty prisoners, advanced
and occupied Douglas on Vaal
River.

Colonel Plumer and Colonel Holdsworth
from Rhodesia continued
their march to the relief of Mafeking.

2.—Loyal inhabitants of Douglas escorted
to Belmont.

General French still engaged with
enemy at Colesberg.

[Pg viii]

3.—General French reinforced from De
Aar. Boers being surrounded;
fighting in the hills.

General Gatacre repulsed Boer attack
on position commanding Molteno.

Colonel Pilcher, for “military
reasons,” evacuated Douglas.

4.—General Gatacre occupied Molteno;
Boers retreated to Stormberg with
loss.

General French manœuvring to enclose
Colesberg; further fighting.

5.—General Gatacre hotly engaged at
Molteno by Boers from Stormberg;
drove them off, inflicting
heavy losses.

6.—Great battle at Ladysmith. Boers
repulsed on every side with heavy
loss.

General Buller made a demonstration
in force to aid General White.

General French inflicted severe defeat
on Boers at Colesberg. A
Company of the 1st Suffolk Regiment
captured.

9.—British troops invaded Free State
territory near Jacobsdal. The
Queensland and Canadian Volunteers
cleared a large belt across
the Free State border.

10.—Lord Roberts and Lord Kitchener
arrived at Cape Town.

Forward movement for the relief
of Ladysmith from Chieveley and
Frere.

11.—Sir Redvers Buller crossed the
Little Tugela, and occupied the
south bank of the Tugela at Potgieter’s
Drift.

Lord Dundonald and Mounted
Brigade crossed the Tugela at
Potgieter’s Drift.

General Gatacre made a reconnaissance
in force towards Stormberg.

13.—The City Imperial Volunteers left
London for South Africa.

15.—Boers attacked General French and
were repulsed at Colesberg.

16.—General Lyttleton and Mounted
Brigade crossed the Tugela at
Potgieter’s Drift.

17.—Sir Charles Warren crossed, with
his Division, at Trichardt’s Drift.

Lord Dundonald had an action
with the Boers near Acton Homes.

18.—Tugela bridged and crossed by a
Brigade and battery.

20.—Sir Charles Warren moved towards
Spion Kop.

Reconnaissance by Lord Dundonald.

21.—Heavy fighting by Clery’s force;
they attacked the Boers and captured
ridge after ridge for three
miles.

22—Sir Charles Warren’s entire army
engaged.

23.—Spion Kop captured by Sir Charles
Warren; General Woodgate
wounded.

25-27.—Abandonment of Spion Kop.
Sir Charles Warren’s force withdrew
to south of Tugela.

27.—Brigadier-General Brabant, commanding
a Brigade of Colonial
forces, joined General Gatacre.

28.—General Kelly-Kenny occupied Thebus.

30.—British force reoccupied Prieska.

FEBRUARY 1900.

3.—Telegraphic communication restored
between Mafeking and Gaberones.

4.—General Macdonald occupied Koodoe’s
Drift.

5.—General Buller crossed the Tugela
at Manger’s Drift.

6.—General Buller captured Vaal Krantz
Hill.

7.—Vaal Krantz Hill abandoned, and
British force withdrew south of
the Tugela.

9.—General Macdonald retired to
Modder River.

Lord Roberts arrived at Modder
River.

10.—Colonel Hannay’s force moved to
Ramdam.

12.—General French with Cavalry Division,
proceeding to the Relief of
Kimberley, seized Dekiel’s Drift.

BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF THE COUNTRY COVERED BY GENERAL BULLER’S OPERATIONS FOR THE RELIEF OF LADYSMITH.

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

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SOUTH AFRICA AND THE
TRANSVAAL WAR

CHAPTER I

THE SITUATION

—Algernon Charles Swinburne.

A week of disaster had terminated woefully. Three British
Generals in succession—Sir William Gatacre, Lord
Methuen, and Sir Redvers Buller—had advanced against
strongly fortified Boer positions and suffered repulse. The
hearts of the miserable loyalists, who hung in dire suspense
on the result of British action, sank in despair—their dismay
and their grief were pitiful. Great Britain echoed their sentiment.
Disappointment was universal. General Gatacre had failed through
lack of caution and mischance; the other Generals had come to grief
owing to the circumstances which forced them willy nilly to hurry
to the assistance of beleaguered towns in the face of overwhelming
disadvantages, notably the lack of cavalry and the inefficiency of
the guns. Lord Methuen had been unable to bring home his early
victories owing to the absence of mounted men. Sir Redvers Buller
had failed to dislodge the enemy from his strong, naturally fortified
positions owing to the weakness of his artillery in comparison to
that of the enemy, who had Nordenfeldt and Hotchkiss quick-firing
guns in every available position. He had made a glorious attempt—owned
to be magnificent; but it was not war, and in his failure[Pg 2]
he recognised that it was not the game of derring-do, but the game
of “slim” warfare as played by his brother Boer which must
claim his attention. Now was verified the prophecy of the Polish
apocalypse: “The war of the future will be a war of sieges and
entrenched positions. In the war of the future the advantage will
always rest with the defensive. In the war of the future, frontal
attacks, without immense superiority in numbers, will be impossible.”

Every campaign, they say, has its lessons. This one we now
find to be full of them, so full indeed that it has necessarily taken
our Generals some time to become acquainted even with their
grammar. When the war was forced upon us by the Pretoria
oligarchy for the long-cherished purpose of ousting Great Britain
from South Africa, many of the authorities were of opinion that
a rabble of undisciplined farmers would be incapable of offering
any formidable resistance to the superior military system of Great
Britain. Not a hint of doubt as to the success of our arms and the
effectiveness of our war apparatus was entertained. When Colonials
in the summer of ’99 volunteered their services, the Government
received the offers with a sniff. Later they accepted them with
grateful thanks. It was never imagined that colonists could know
anything of the art of war, or that they might teach a lesson or two
even to that august institution the Staff College. Those who knew
ventured to suggest that in South Africa the same cast-iron principles
that existed in European warfare would be valueless, and that
the lessons of Ingogo and Majuba in ’81 might be repeated in ’99
in all their dire and dismal reality. But these pessimists were scoffed
at. They therefore waited, and hoped against hope. Now and then
they feebly wondered by what process infantry, arriving two months
late, when the enemy had had time to entrench the whole country at
various naturally strong strategic points, would be able to overcome
the disadvantages attendant on immobility. But they were silenced
by a look. British pluck and endurance might be calculated upon
to surmount everything and anything—some said! No one seemed
to care to tackle the problem of how men on foot would be enabled
to compete creditably, in anything like equal numbers, with a
mounted enemy possessing more than ordinary mobility.

A mounted enemy has many advantages in his favour. He can
select his own position, he can place all his force en masse into the
fighting line, he can so pick his positions that one man on the defensive
can make himself the equal of three men of the attacking force;
and, besides, he can occupy a length of position which must extend
his flanks far beyond those of the attackers on foot. These in
consequence are either forced to extend to equal length, at almost
certain risk of being unable to reinforce any weak point developed
during the attack, and thereby cause the attack to be broken at[Pg 3]
points; or they have to “contain” only a portion of the enemy in
position, and perhaps leave his wings—or one wing—free to execute
an outflanking movement. It is impossible when a line extends for
miles, and the enemy’s strength is not discoverable before the heat
of the engagement, for infantry to come from a great distance to
the assistance of weak points; and by reason of this immobility
it is equally impossible for infantry in the heat of action, and when
the front is extended for miles, to suddenly change a plan of attack
in time to save a situation.

The task set before our Generals was, therefore, almost superhuman:
they were expected to make up for want of mobility with
superior strategical qualifications; but, as has been said, no committee
of Generals could at this juncture have decided on a strategy
applicable to the complicated situation. That the Boer was a born
strategist, and had able advisers, was amply proved. The amalgam
of Boer methods, with Zulu theories and modern German tactics,
was sufficient to try the most ingenious intelligence. For instance,
the Boers in early days selected positions on the sides and tops of
kopjes, and at the commencement of the campaign, at Talana Hill
and at Elandslaagte, they were so perched, in accordance with the
primitive principles of their race. They ignored the fact that such
positions were the worst they could select against artillery fire with
percussion fuses. Even for their own rifle practice such positions
were also the worst, as, firing down at an angle, their bullets as a
rule ran the chance of ploughing the earth without ricocheting,
and served only to hit the one man aimed at. They worked, and
still work, on the old Zulu principle of putting their whole strength
into the fighting line, acting on the Zulu axiom, “Let it thunder—and
pass.” A sound principle this, no doubt, but one which our ponderous
military machinery would not allow us to adopt. To these early
methods, and to his native “slimness” and cunning, the Boer now
added some German erudition. The influence of German officers
and German tactics began to work changes curious and inexplicable.
The Boers built scientific entrenchments, no longer on the kopjes
alone but also below them, thus reducing the effect of hostile artillery,
save that of howitzers, and permitting their sharpshooters to sweep
the plain with a hurricane from their Mausers. In addition to this
they built long castellated trenches, perfect underground avenues,
to allow of the invisible massing of troops at any given point. They
were also provided with ingenious gun-trenches, quite hidden, along
which their Nordenfeldt gun, that pumped five shells in rapid succession,
could be removed swiftly from one spot to another, and
thereby defeat the efforts of the British gunners to locate it.

Thus it will be seen a new complexion was put upon Boer affairs.
Novel and trying conditions were imposed on those who already had[Pg 4]
to cope with the problem of how to match in mobility a rival who
brought to his support six legs, while the British only brought two.
Whole armies consisting merely of mounted infantry and artillery
had never before come into action, and it began to be understood
that a war against bushwhackers, guerillas, and sharpshooters, plus
the most expensive guns modernity could provide, was a matter more
serious than any with which the nineteenth century had hitherto had
to deal. We had to learn that sheer pluck, endurance, and brute
force were unavailing, and that strategy of the hard and fast kind—the
red-tape strategy of the Staff College—was about as unpractical
as a knowledge of the classics to one who goes a-marketing. There
is no finality in the art of war, and nations, be they ever so old and
wise and important, must go on learning.

One of the newer questions was, how far personal intelligence
might be distributed among a body of men? The General as a
head, the Staff Officers as nerves that convey volition to the different
members, we had accepted, but how far individual acumen was
needed to insure success now began to be argued. Certain it was
that in this campaign we had opportunities for studying the comparative
value of individual discretion versus “fighting to order.”
The Boers, every one of them, were working for themselves, absolutely
for hearth and home, though perhaps under a general plan which
certainly served to harass and annoy and keep the British army in
a dilemma; while we laboured on a consolidated system which, if not
obsolete, was certainly inappropriate. However, as there was no
use in bemoaning our reverses, we began to congratulate ourselves
on having discovered the cause of them. It was decided that first
there must be more troops sent out to meet the extended nature of
our operations, and that these troops must be accompanied by a
sufficient number of horses to insure the necessary mobility, without
which even the brute force of our numbers would be useless.

Of the successful issue of future proceedings none had a
doubt. All knew that the finest strategy in the world must be useless
when tools were wanting, and all felt certain that the admirable
abilities of our Generals, when once the means of playing their war
game came to hand, were bound to rise to the prodigious task still
in store.

But for the dire necessity of the three gallant towns—Mafeking,
Kimberley, and Ladysmith—a waiting game would have been
possible and wise. The Boer stores of food and ammunition would
eventually have run out, and the guns gone the way of much-used
guns. Trek-oxen, instead of dragging the waggons of their masters,
would have had to go to feed the hungry commandoes, and the
history of slow exhaustion would have had to be told. But—again
there was the great But!—those three valiant towns were holding[Pg 5]
out their hands, they were crying for help, they were standing in
their hourly peril hopeful and brave because they believed—they
were certain—that we should never desert them!

At home the grievous news of the reverse was digested by
the public with dumb, almost paralysed resignation. At first it was
scarcely possible to believe that the great, the long-anticipated move
for the relief of Ladysmith had proved a failure, and that the Boers
were still masters of the situation, and moreover the richer by
eleven of our much-needed guns. By degrees the terrible truth
began to be accepted by us. By degrees the Government awakened
to the fact that the fighting of the Dutchmen within the region of
Natal meant more than the pitting of one Briton against two Boers,
that it meant the dashing of a whole Army Corps against Nature’s
strongholds, our own by right of purchase and blood, and captured
from us merely by reason of neglect and delay!

To awake, however, was to act. In our misfortune it was
pleasant to recall the words of Jomini, when speaking of Frederick
the Great and his defeats in Silesia. “A series of fortunate events,”
he said, “may dull the greatest minds, deprive them of their natural
vigour, and level them with common beings. But adversity is a
tonic capable of bringing back energy and elasticity to those who
have lost it.” The tonic was sipped. Jomini’s theories were proved!
Though Great Britain through a series of fortunate events—a long
reign of comparative peace—had become lethargic and money-grubbing,
she, at the first shock of adversity, regained all her
elasticity, vigour, and natural spirit of chivalry. Promptly the entire
nation nerved itself to prove that, as of old, it was equal to any
struggle, any sacrifice. The whole country seemed with one consent
to leap to arms.

The Militia, nine battalions of Infantry, was now permitted to
volunteer for service in any part of the Queen’s dominions where
such services might be wanted, while it was arranged that specially
selected contingents of Yeomanry and Volunteers would start for
the Front as soon as there were found ships sufficient to carry them.

Noble as amazing was the hurried response of the Volunteers
to the intimation that their services would be accepted for the
war. Hastily they pressed forward in crowds to enrol themselves.
Their promptitude was goodly to look upon and to read
of, for it showed that, in spite of the theories of Tolstoi and the
influence of the spirit of modernity, patriotism is inherent and not
a mere exotic or cultivated sentiment in the British race. We now
found that though many traditions may be worn to rags, those of the
British army had grown, like old tapestry, the more precious for
the passage of time.[Pg 6]

Still the military position was pregnant with anxieties. A
horse that is left at the post may perhaps win in the end, but
his chances of success are remote. An army that lands in driblets
three months after time is scarcely calculated to succeed against
a rival army which has spent that interval in equipping itself
for the fray. We were forced to remember that at the onset
our officers were placed in the most dangerous positions, with
inadequate support and no prospect of reinforcement, until their
energies, mental and physical, had been sapped by undue and
prolonged strain. On the north Tuli had but a handful of
troops to resist an enormous and powerful enemy; Mafeking
was surrounded, isolated, and able only to resist to the death
the persistent attacks of shot and shell; Vryburg was allowed
to be treacherously given away to the enemy; and Kimberley
was left in the lurch as it were, to fight or fall according to
the pluck of those who were ready to exhaust their vitality in
loyalty to the Queen. On the Natal side things were still worse.
The country, every inch of which is familiar to the Boer, had almost
invited invasion. The whole strength of Boers and Free Staters
was permitted to launch itself against an army which was entirely
without reserves, and which could not be reinforced under a month.
That brave and unfortunate soldier, Sir George Colley, had a theory
that small, well-organised troops were worth as much again as
large and desultory ones; but he took no account of peculiar facilities
which are almost inherent to armies fighting on their own soil, as
it were, and habits of warfare which have, so to speak, become ancestral
with the Boer. From old time the Dutchman has employed his
mountain fastnesses, his boulders, and his tambookie grass as screens
and shelters, till in war the “tricks of the trade” have become a
second nature to him, and serve in place of more complicated
European methods. The small Natal army was, on Sir George
Colley’s principle, allowed to pit itself against a fighting mass,
dense and desultory it may be, but a fighting mass of enormous
dimensions, which, whatever their failings, had weight, equipment,
courage, obstinacy, and intimacy with their surroundings entirely
in their favour. That the enemy was first in the field they had
to thank the original promoters of war, the Peace party—the
humanitarian persons who so long hampered reason by loud outcries
against the shedding of blood that their own countrymen
in the Transvaal were condemned to all the tortures of suspense,
to be aggravated later by all the agonies of famine and disease.
Their own countrywomen and their babes were saved from shot
and shell to be sent defenceless and homeless to wander the world
till the charity of strangers or the relief of death should overtake
them, while the loyal natives were left in a state of trepidation and[Pg 7]
suspense, without protection, yet forbidden to raise a hand in their
own defence.

Reason now had its way. But remedies cannot be applied in a
moment, and the public, which is always wise after the event,
vented its anguish and its feelings of suspense by indulging in
criticism, or in asking questions which, of course, could not be
answered till the principal persons concerned were able to take part
in the catechism. For instance, some of the riddles buzzed about in
club and railway carriage were: Why did Sir Redvers Buller make a
frontal attack across an open plain against an enemy admirably entrenched,
and posted in a position not only made strong by art but by
nature? Why was it that the Government, in spite of the warnings
given by Sir Alfred Milner while he was in England in May ’99, neglected
to take such precautions as would have prevented the enemy
from being entirely in advance of us in the matter of time? Why,
also, were the Boers permitted to arm themselves with the most
expensive modern weapons, to be used against us, under the very
eye of our representative in Pretoria, without our being warned
of the inferior quality of our own guns, and of the impossibility of
making ourselves a match for the enemy so long as the cheese-paring
policy of the authorities at home was countenanced? Why,
with an Intelligence Department in working order, was it never
discovered that united Free State and Transvaal Dutchmen would
vastly outnumber all the troops we were prepared—or, rather,
unprepared—to put in the field, the troops we strove to make
sufficient till the strain of reverse forced from us the acceptance
of help from the Colonies, the Militia, and the Volunteers?

The great question of reinforcements filled all minds. Nothing
indeed could be looked for till they should reach the Cape. Fifteen
huge transports were due to arrive between the end of December
and the beginning of January, bringing on the scene some 15,000
troops of all arms. The Fifth Division, under Sir Charles Warren,
consisting of eight battalions of Infantry and its complement of Artillery
and Engineers was expected, also the Household Cavalry Composite
Regiment, the 14th Hussars, a siege train, a draft of Marines,
and various odd branches of the service. Later on more troops
would follow, but pending the arrival of the warrior cargoes it was
impossible for our Generals to do more than act on the defensive,
and consider themselves fortunate if they could prevent the further
advance of the enemy to the south.

But the most momentous move of the closing year was
the departure of Lord Roberts for the seat of war. Here was
this gallant officer, whose life had been devoted to the service
of his country, and who was at an age when many other men
would have elected to stay by hearth and home, suddenly called on[Pg 8]
to act in the most difficult and trying crisis. And, in the very
hour that he was asked to rouse himself to meet the call of
Queen and country, he was dealt a crushing blow. His gallant
son, the only one, and one well worthy to have worn the laurels
of his noble father, besides adding to them by his own splendid
acts, was carried off, a victim to the severe wound he received at
Colenso. Here was a supreme trial, so supreme indeed that none
dared touch it. All, even Lord Roberts’s sincerest friends, shrunk
from dwelling on the agony of mind that must have been endured
by this great hero when at the same moment the voice of duty and
the cry of domestic love jarred in conflict. On the one side he was
called upon to brace himself to meet a political situation fraught with
all manner of indescribable complications, while on the other, human
nature with a thousand clinging tendrils drew him towards the
numbness of mute woe or the consolation of private tears. But,
like the great warrior he is, he got into harness and started off,
leaving his misery in the hands of the great British people, who
held it as their own. The “send off” they gave him at Waterloo
Station was one of the most remarkable outbursts of public feeling
on record, and this was not only due to admiration for the conqueror
of Kandahar, but to profound sympathy for the man and the father
who was thus laying aside his private self and placing all his magnificent
ability at the service of the Empire.

DOINGS AT CHIEVELEY

It was now found desirable to remove part of the camp about ten
and a half miles to the south, to get out of range of the Boer big
guns which commanded the position. The wounded were daily
being sent off in train-loads to Maritzburg, many of them, in spite
of being shot in two or three places, cheerful and anxious to return
quickly “to be in at the death,” as they sportingly described it. The
funeral of Lord Roberts’s gallant son caused a sense of deep depression
to prevail in all ranks, for he was not only regretted by those
who held his brilliant qualities in esteem, but in sympathy with the
sore affliction which had befallen the veteran “Bobs,” whose name,
wherever Tommy goes, is one to conjure with. The ceremony
was a most impressive one, and the pall-bearers were all men of
young Roberts’s corps. These were Major Prince Christian Victor,
Colonels Buchanan-Riddell and Bewicke-Copley, and Major Stuart-Wortley.

The graves of all the unfortunate slain were marked round,
covered with flowers, and temporary tablets arranged till suitable
memorials should be prepared.

A PICKET OF 13th HUSSARS SURPRISED NEAR THE TUGELA RIVER (HUSSAR HILL).
Drawing by John Charlton.

Meanwhile the Naval guns were unceasing in their activity,
and made an appalling accompaniment to the afternoon siestas[Pg 9]
in which many, owing to the excessive heat, were inclined to indulge.
For strategical reasons it was now found necessary to blow
up the road-bridge over the Tugela, and thus prevent the Boers from
advancing further to the south or spying upon our positions.

Map of the Seat of War. Scale 1 inch=86 miles.
[Transcribers’ note: Image is a link to a larger scale image. For ease of reference, the black line beneath the
image would be approximately one inch in length in the original.]

[Pg 10]Extra precautions were taken in regard to the white flag. It
began to be believed at last that the Boer would take an unfair
advantage of the Briton whenever he should get a chance.
Strangely enough, our officers seemed to have forgotten or disregarded
the object-lesson of the tragic affair of Bronker’s Spruit.
Yet Boer “slimness” was then well enough established. The unfortunate
Colonel Anstruther caused to be printed in the Transvaal
Government Gazette a bi-lingual proclamation, informing the Boers
that, in consequence of the many treacherous uses to which the
white flag had been put, he would in future recognise the emblem
only under the following conditions: two Boers accompanied by an
officer, and all unarmed, must approach the lines bearing the white
flag aloft. The British soldiers were also advised to keep well under
cover whenever the flag was displayed. This showed that reliance
on Boer honour would in no case be attempted. At the present date
Boer morality had not improved, and it was even declared that the
Free Staters had made their women boil down their national flag,
so that in its pallid state it might at a little distance be mistaken for
the white flag, and come in handy in case of need.

On the 20th of December a picket, consisting of seven men belonging
to the 13th Hussars, was surprised some five miles from
camp, in the direction of Weenen, by a party of sixty Boers.
These cautiously crept round some kopjes to where the outpost
was stationed. A smart tussle ensued. Two men were killed and
seven horses were lost. No sooner had information of the fight
reached camp than some of Bethune’s and Thorneycroft’s Mounted
Infantry were despatched to the rescue, but the Boers, on perceiving
these reinforcements, quickly fled and thus escaped punishment.

At this time the second advance for the relief of Ladysmith
was very secretly being organised, but no one knew exactly
when Sir Redvers Buller meant to move, or whether he intended
to give up the idea of a frontal attack altogether. Our
Generals were criticised for making frontal attacks, but Clausewitz
declares that the attempt to turn the flank of the enemy
can only be justified by a great superiority; this superiority may
be either actual superiority of numbers, or it may follow from the
way in which the lines of communication are placed. Unfortunately
we had no favouring strength; the Boers outnumbered
us everywhere, and not only did they exceed us numerically, but
their mobility enabled them so quickly to move from front to flank
positions that they were, on desire, facing us at any moment. In[Pg 11]
fact the Boer army had no flank, and therefore the vast amount of
after-the-event wisdom which was gratuitously handed about by “the
man in the street” was absolutely wasted.

An unfortunate incident now occurred. Capt. James Rutherford
and Mr. Grenfell, S.A.L.H., while visiting the pickets, disappeared.
They apparently rode into the midst of the enemy’s
scouts, who were everywhere prowling about, and were forced to
surrender. The report of the capture was brought to the camp
by native runners, who stated that the officers had been removed
to Pretoria. However, for two gallant Britons lost there was one
gained, for at the very time Mr. Winston Churchill had almost
miraculously made himself free of his captors.

The story of his escape reads like a novel; but truth is stranger
than fiction. When removed to Pretoria after the disaster to the
armoured train at Chieveley, he almost gave up hope of escape; indeed
he had every reason so to do, for on the 12th of December he
was informed by the Transvaal Government’s Secretary for War
that there was little chance of his release. Whereupon, with many
doubts and misgivings, he discussed with himself the best means
of struggling for freedom. The State Schools Prison was well
guarded; it was surrounded by a high wall, and the sentries were
vigilant in the extreme. He formed for himself a plan, however, and
once when the back of the sentry was momentarily turned he took
his courage in both hands as the French say, rushed at the six-foot
wall, scaled it, and let himself down into a neighbouring garden before
his movement could be detected. The garden was the garden of an
inhabited house. There were lights in the windows; more, there
were visitors on the verandah, and presently, ramblers among the
paths! Moments of horror as the escaped hid in the trees seemed to
become years, discovery appeared to be merely a matter of moments.
But evidently the Fates decided that so useful a member of creation—warrior,
writer, and politician—could not be spared by society or
his country, and in a little while Mr. Churchill found himself wandering,
undisguised and unrecognised, through the streets of the town.
Burghers passed him, passengers brushed his shoulders. Nobody
asked his business. It was evident that Fate wanted him. The stars
said so, and following their direction he struck out towards the
Delagoa Railroad. He knew that he dared ask his way of none;
he was aware that he must make the most of the cloak of night; he
was intimate enough with Boer customs to be certain that in a few
hours his description would be posted throughout the two Republics.
The present, and only the present, was his. He walked along the
line, evading the watchers on bridges and culverts, and determining
to stick to the rails, without which he might find himself lost or
wandering back in the teeth of the enemy. Once free of the town,[Pg 12]
he bided his time cautiously in the neighbourhood of an adjacent
station. There he watched the coming of a train, and just as it
steamed past him, with an alacrity and agility born of sheer despair,
he made a leap towards a truck, grabbed at a hook on the edge,
boarded it, and was soon burrowing deep in a cargo of coal-sacks.
There he lay, grimy, exhausted, and almost distraught, but happy.
He was free. Every minute the anxiety for freedom had grown
within him, till now, fighting his way towards it, it had become an
almost savage passion. He had decided he would never go back.
No one should capture him. But this was easier to swear than to
accomplish. To escape detection it was necessary again to risk his
life—to leap off the train as he had leapt on it, while the machinery
was in full swing and the driver ignorant of the existence of his
distinguished passenger. Before dawn, therefore, he emerged from
the coal-heap, and with a flying leap landed flat on the railroad. He
gathered himself together, and by sunrise was concealed in a
wood, his only companion for some time being a vulture. The
sojourn in the cool boskage of the Transvaal was fraught with good
luck, and at dusk when the fugitive emerged he was another man.
At last he was able to gather his forces together for another trip on
a passing train. There was always danger though—danger because
it was necessary to hug the line, and where the line was, there also
were railway guards, or at least humanity—inimical humanity, who
most probably were plotting his ruin. Plod, plod, plod; so passed
the hours, scrambling along in the dead of night through sluits and
dongas in the effort to avoid the direct neighbourhood of huts,
bridges, stations, and yet keep in touch with the winding iron track
that led to the longed-for sea. For five days and nights he persevered,
tramping after dark and sneaking under cover all day, and
dimly conscious that the hue and cry had gone forth, and that every
man’s hand in the enemy’s country was now turned against him.
On the sixth day he managed again with amazing good fortune to
safely board a train, and this time it was one going from Middleburg
to Delagoa Bay. Again he burrowed among sacks and carefully
hid himself, so carefully, indeed, that owing to his extreme precaution
discovery was evaded. The train was searched, the sacks
were prodded. Deep down, scarcely daring to breathe, lay the man
they were seeking—an inch or two off—just an inch or two off. He
drew a long breath and praised God for his escape. After that he
passed some sixty hours in all the agonies of suspense. Famine and
thirst preyed on him, and active horror lest all his exertions should
be in vain, lest, at the very last moment, the whole struggle of hope
and wretchedness would end in dire and fatal disaster. But he was
preserved. He arrived at Lourenço Marques on the 21st of
December, and from there proceeded to Natal. “I am very weak,[Pg 13]
but I am free.” Such were the words of his telegram; no wired
words ever meant more. “I have lost many pounds in weight, but
I am lighter in heart; and I avail myself of this moment, which is a
witness to my earnestness, to urge an unflinching and uncompromising
prosecution of the war.” In regard to Mr. Winston Churchill’s
arrival among his friends in Natal, an eye-witness wrote:—

“The 23rd of December last was a memorable day at Durban, perhaps the
most memorable since that on which the Boers’ ultimatum was published.
From Lourenço Marques had come the exciting intelligence that young Winston
Churchill, a distinguished member of a world-renowned race, had succeeded in
evading his jailers at Pretoria, and, after a series of thrilling adventures, had
arrived safely at Delagoa Bay. The telegrams had further announced that the
hero had immediately shipped on board the Rennie liner Induna and would
land at Durban that very afternoon. The fame of Mr. Churchill as a soldier
and an author was already established. The history of his gallantry both in
India and at Omdurman was already well known to every good Natalian before
he first stepped ashore there as one of the war correspondents of the Morning
Post. His subsequent courageous conduct at Chieveley at the unfortunate
incident of the armoured train and his capture by the Boers, now capped by
his marvellous escape from Pretoria, had set Durban agog with excitement, and
filled all and sundry with hearty desires to afford him a right royal welcome on
his landing again on British soil.

“The brilliant summer sunshine, tempered by a fresh sea-breeze which
sent a soft ripple across the deep blue surface of the magnificent harbour; the
bold headland of the bluff contrasting vividly against the streets of iron-roofed
dwellings in the township; the large numbers of ocean-going steamers and
sailing craft, gay with bunting; the eager, expectant crowd of every class of
society, from gaily-dressed ladies to wharf labourers, refugees, and Kaffirs in
but shirts and trousers, all contributed to the completion of a picturesque
panorama never to be forgotten. Long before midday did we assemble in our
thousands. When it was whispered about that the Induna would berth alongside
the steamer Inchanga, and that Mr. Churchill must cross the decks of the
Inchanga before stepping ashore, a rush was made for her, and, in spite of
all the efforts of the officers and crew, the crowd swarmed like bees on her.
They took possession of every available point of vantage; they invaded the
sacred precincts of the captain’s bridge; they braved the perils of the rigging;
they huddled together on the ‘fo’cas’le’; they filled every boat; and, heedless
of fresh paint, they clung affectionately to the ventilators and the funnel.

“After having been several times reported the Induna rounded the point
at half-past two. Amid breathless expectation she steamed slowly across the
harbour. Standing beside the captain on the bridge a smallish, clean-shaven
man was descried, and the crowd at once recognised him as the hero whom
they had assembled to honour. A thousand good British cheers broke the
silence, a thousand lusty throats shouted a heartfelt welcome. But this was
not all. The sturdy Natalians did not stop at shouting. The moment the
Induna was moored Mr. Churchill, smiling, was seized bodily by twenty pairs
of brawny arms, was patted and thumped on the back by hundreds of applauding
hands, and finally, after being nearly strangled by over-zealous admirers
who were waving hats and handkerchiefs and crying ‘Bravo!’ and ‘Well done!’
he was carried shoulder-high across the decks of the Inchanga and deposited in
a ricksha, whence a speech was demanded. In a few modest sentences Mr.[Pg 14]
Churchill good-humouredly narrated some of the more prominent episodes of
his exploit, and a start was made for his hotel, the ricksha-boy being assisted
more or less by some fifty amateur ricksha-men and escorted by a majority of
the crowd. After picking up the editor of the Natal Mercury on the way, and
installing him in state by the side of Mr. Churchill, the hotel was at last
reached, and the demand for another speech having been acceded to, Mr.
Churchill was permitted at four o’clock to retire from the public gaze. The
same night he left Durban for the front.”

The following is a copy of the letter written by Mr. Winston
Churchill to Mr. de Souza prior to escaping from prison:—

“State Schools Prison, Pretoria.

“Dear Mr. de Souza,—I do not consider that your Government was
justified in holding me, a press correspondent and a non-combatant, as a
prisoner, and I have consequently resolved to escape. The arrangements I
have succeeded in making with my friends outside are such as to give me every
confidence. But I wish, in leaving you thus hastily and unceremoniously, to
once more place on record my appreciation of the kindness which has been
shown me and the other prisoners by you, by the commandant, and by Dr.
Gunning, and my admiration of the chivalrous and humane character of the
Republican forces. My views on the general question of the war remain
unchanged, but I shall always retain a feeling of high respect for the several
classes of the Burghers I have met, and on reaching the British lines I will set
forth a truthful and impartial account of my experiences in Pretoria. In conclusion,
I desire to express my obligations to you, and to hope that when this
most grievous and unhappy war shall have come to an end, a state of affairs
may be created which shall preserve the national pride of the Boers and the
security of the British, and put a final stop to the rivalry and enmity of both
races. Regretting that circumstances have not permitted me to bid you a
personal farewell, believe me, yours very sincerely,

“Winston Churchill.

“December 11, 1899.”

CHRISTMAS AT THE CAPE AND NATAL

We had arrived at what might be termed a breathing spell.
There was no serious movement in the direction of the Modder
River, and Lord Methuen was evidently biding his time. General
Gatacre felt himself too weak to take up any very active or offensive
step, while General French contented himself with such harassing
and cleverly annoying operations as kept the enemy, like a
man with a mosquito round his nose, from napping. There was
great hope of better things, however, for it was known that the
Dunottar Castle had left England and was conveying to the Cape—in
addition to Lord Roberts—Lord Kitchener and Major-General
T. Kelly-Kenny, the Commander of the Sixth Division.
Besides these were the following officers of Lord Roberts’s Staff:—Major-General
G. T. Pretyman; Colonel Viscount Downe, C.I.E.;
Major H. V. Cowan; Captain A. C. M. Waterfield; Major J.
F. R. Henderson; Major C. V. Hume; Brevet-Major G. F.[Pg 15]
Gorringe, D.S.O.; Colonel Lord Erroll; Commander the Hon.
S. J. Fortescue (Naval Adviser to Lord Roberts); Captain
Lord Herbert Scott; Captain Lord Settrington.

This showed that when at last we set to work we did so with
a will. The forces in South Africa before the war had amounted
to 25,000, which number was augmented by 55,000 on the arrival
of the First Army Corps. Late in December came the Fifth Division
of about 11,000, under Sir Charles Warren, followed by the
Sixth Division of 10,000 men. The Seventh and Eighth Divisions
of 10,000 men respectively were shortly to increase the forces at
the disposal of Lord Roberts, together with some 2000 additional
Cavalry, 10,000 Yeomanry, 9000 Volunteers, seven battalions of
Militia, drafts for regiments at the front amounting to 10,000,
and about 20,000 local forces. The first Colonial contingents
consisted of about 2500 men, and these were to be followed by
second contingents of like strength. The Naval Brigade was
composed of about 1000; so that in all, roughly estimated, we
were on the eve of putting 184,000 men into the field.

Christmas day at the Cape was solemnised with much speechifying,
both from Dutch pulpits and Dutch partisans, and not a few
peacefully disposed persons in this time of general goodwill lugged
in Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman by the ears and quoted him
to suit their purpose. That amiable worthy had said the war
could have been avoided, and that cheap and incontrovertible
statement the Bond got hold of and chewed and rolled on the
tongue as an accompaniment to its plum-pudding and mince-pies.
Of course, the war could have been avoided. Of course, it would
have been quite possible to voluntarily retire from the Cape and
allow South Africa to become entirely Dutch. In the same way
we could give up governing India and hand it over to Russia
and confine our expenses and our energies to Great Britain,
the water supply, the development of national cookery, and the
propagation of cabbages. But peace with dishonour was fortunately
not to the taste of the British public, and those who spent their
Yuletide in active service were far too devoted to the sacred duty
of maintaining the prestige of the Empire to sigh for the domestic
hearth and regal sirloin that might have been theirs had the
Government extended its accommodating apathy a few months
longer.

There were no holly decorations and displays of bunting, no
rubbings of hands and vigorous snow-balling, because the South
African sun blazed with the glare of beaten brass, and the thermometer
stood to the height of some 100 degrees at midday. But
there was a vast amount of joke-making and hearty goodwill
nevertheless, and many prayers for friends and family and Queen.[Pg 16]

In Natal there were lively doings in honour of the festal season.
At a time when even cracker manufacturers wax poetic, the
journalistic poets thought it their duty to burst into rhyme. The
Natal papers indulged in some jocose doggerel, which would have
been comic had it not been deeply tragic. The lines ran thus:
“To Ladysmith”—the only lines, by-the-bye, that did run there—

But Tommy was pleased and thought the stanza a capital joke.
He meant to get there directly, and merely quoted the proverb
about “slow and shure”—there were so many Irishmen about,
fine fellows, who believed in themselves and they were shure
about everything. They had nothing to do with doubt, for doubt,
after all, is the mother of diffidence!

And some of these rollicking youngsters managed to retain their
native good-humour in most distressing circumstances. A good
story was told of one gallant private in hospital who had lost his leg
but persisted in apostrophising the missing limb whenever it ached.
“Be aisy wid ye. Can’t ye be quiet? Ye’ll niver take me into the
foight again. Ohovo!”

Other examples of amazing good-temper and pluck on the part
of the wounded filled all eye-witnesses with pathetic admiration.
One man, a quondam music-hall singer, carried his jocose art into his
sick-bed. A Boer prisoner had lost his arms, and the poor fellow
helplessly shook his head when offered tobacco. But the music-hall
singer saw the shake of the head and tearful eye that accompanied
it. In a moment, with gymnastic dexterity, he had placed
his arms round the Boer and performed the office of the missing
ones, giving the fellow the advantage of a good smoke. Another
of our men who had lost his right arm co-operated with a Boer who
had lost his left, and between them they rolled cigarettes to the
great satisfaction of both. While they were in hospital another
sufferer pretended to be in no way depressed by the loss of his arm,
and ventured on mild whimsicalities regarding the economy of being
able to share a single pair of gloves with any right-handed man
who might also have lost a limb!

LIEUT.-GENERAL FORRESTIER WALKER, K.C.B.
Commanding the Lines of Communication.
Photo by Elliott & Fry, London.

On the whole, well or ill, Tommy was temporarily in clover.
The fat of the land was being sent out by fervent admirers at home.
Indeed he was getting somewhat inundated with worsted goods
which the fair hands of his countrywomen had been devotedly
manufacturing. Jack Tar, despite his magnificent work, was not
so highly distinguished, at least so he thought, and occasionally[Pg 17]
vented his disgust into private ears. But, as one of them said,
they’d had a treat for Christmas—the treat of a wash! It was
bathing under difficulties, however, for one half of the men had to
keep guard with loaded rifles while the other half wallowed in
water that, in harmony with the general scheme of things in camp,
was also of kharki hue!

Tommy at the front was externally scarcely the Tommy of our
acquaintance. His bright spick and span exterior was gone.
Kharki had sobered him and planed down his individuality. His
uniform no longer sat without a crease. It was washed and worn
and shrunken from hard and honourable usage, and his carriage
was no longer the carriage of Tommy on parade. He seemed to
have taken a leaf out of Jack’s book, and the slight slouch became
him well. It gave him the air of a workman and an individual, and
seemed to point to the fact that there was no longer occasion for him
to be judged by appearances. We knew the inner man now. He
did his duty grandly, and his splendid courage and perseverance
had made him independent of the pomp and panoply of war. In
the matter of “grit” they were all alike. But in externals they
had curious differences, their characteristics varying considerably
according to the regiment to which they belonged. Some were
dapper still—the newly arrived ones—with hair clipped to an eighth
of an inch for head and half an inch for moustache; others had
succumbed to circumstances, and had grown beards of odd sizes and
shapes and colours (scumbled in all cases with dust), while the
youngsters displayed an unhappy medium, styled by an officer
“pieces of unexpected wool,” on promiscuous parts of their faces!
Still, when all was said, joviality and “grit” put an identical veneer
on them all!

The officers too were transmogrified. They were dressed
exactly like the men. Tan brown belts, swords, and revolvers were
no longer in evidence. When going off to war, or any other duty
at all under arms, each officer arrayed himself in his servant’s belt
and equipment—stained with clay paste to the prevalent dust or
kharki colour—and took with him his servant’s rifle and one hundred
rounds of ammunition. There was a difference without a distinction.
The officer carried a field-glass, and this when not in use was concealed
in a coat-pocket. Every precaution was now adopted to
prevent them from inviting an undue share of attention. The
mounted officers had carbines—neat, handy weapons, which slipped
into a leather carbine bucket in the saddle, on the other side of
which went the very necessary wire-cutters. Barbed wire entanglements
were so much a part of the Boer programme—“to cheer you
up in crossing the drifts,” some one said—that the cutters became an
essential part of warlike gear. A strange innovation this; very[Pg 18]
small but very full of meaning. The Boers were teaching us a
great deal. We were beginning to understand, almost to admire,
their curious modes of warfare—their strange ability to “sit tight,”
wire themselves in, and yet to fly away! Years ago, when some
tactician ventured to say that the war of the future embraced only
the question of long-range rifles and wire-entangled trenches, we
were inclined to pooh-pooh! Now we were beginning to see
wisdom in this stubborn and persistent, and yet skittishly mobile
foe! When we looked at our wire nippers and their strong
entrenchments we began to formulate the war motto of the future,
which resolves itself into five words: “Six legs and a spade!” The
sword, the bayonet, the cavalry charge were passing away for ever.
Here the dignified charger was ill-matched with the nimble steed of
the country, and many officers were only too glad to supplement their
English horses with Basuto ponies—to secure four serviceable and
sure legs, as the climate and other circumstances contrived to wear
out those of their British beasts. Fortunately there was still a
plentiful choice in horse-flesh, what with British and Australian
and Argentine specimens, but the Basuto ponies were the most
knowing and handy for the purposes required. The imported
horse, it was discovered, needed a long and probationary period to
make him at home on the South African veldt. Like other aristocratical
creatures, he was unequal to the hand-to-mouth existence of
the African-born animal, who, by habit and instinct, could shift for
himself. He was neither knowing nor cautious, having been unaccustomed
to ground honeycombed with mole-holes, sluits, and
other obstacles, or to the trick of rolling on the veldt and picking up
his meals haphazard from the first bush he came across. Hence it
became evident that horses in plenty must be forthcoming if we
were ever to remedy our deficiencies and make our progress something
other than the steam-roller style of progress to which we had
been accustomed.

[Pg 19]

CHAPTER II

MAFEKING

Plucky little Mafeking continued to hold its own, and
not merely to hold its own, but to make itself dauntlessly
aggressive. Continual sorties took place, and indeed
formed part of the routine of daily life. Commandant Cronje
now sent in a communication disputing the right of the British
to use dynamite in any way in the operations for the defence of
the town; but Colonel Baden-Powell was inclined for deeds, not
arguments, so Cronje was silenced. The town was enlivened by
a great concert, in which the National Anthem was sung with
fervour and intense significance. This showed without doubt that
Mafeking meant to fight so long as breath should last. In regard
to provisions and water, the garrison was getting on well. The art
of dodging shells, said one officer, was being carried to a state of
great perfection, and the fighting was being conducted in strict
accordance with military etiquette, Commandant Cronje always
giving due notice of bombardment!

For some time after Colonel Walford’s gallant defence of Cannon
Kopje on the 31st October, nothing much occurred. The losses from
this attack were more than at first supposed. Captain the Hon. H.
Marsham, as we know, was killed, and Captain Pechell, who was
hit in the abdomen by a piece of shell, succumbed to his injuries.
Sergeant Lloyd, who did splendid service with the Red Cross
company, was struck while attending to the wounded, and died.
Trooper Nicholas, whose arm was shattered, succumbed owing
to shock to the system. A trooper who was hit by a bullet in
the collar-bone escaped death miraculously. Fortunately, Lieutenants
Brady and Dawson, who were also injured, were getting
on well.

Among the marvellous escapes recorded, and these were not a
few, was one of a negro who was shot through the brain by a bullet.
The projectile passed through one temple and lodged in the other,
yet the man still survived, and showed a decided intention to recover.
There is an old story of a Jamaica negro who fell from a
tree without injury, and when asked how he escaped, he explained
his good fortune by saying, “Tank God, me fall on me head!”
The invulnerability of the nigger cranium in that case, as in this,
had its advantages, and it would be interesting if some of our[Pg 20]
specialists—say Dr. Horsley—would account for the rough-and-tumble
superiority of blacks over whites.

On the 1st of November a lamentable incident occurred.
Parslow, the correspondent of the Daily Chronicle, was shot by a
member of the garrison. The following is an extract from a
letter relating to the sad affair, which was in the possession of
the Editor of the Daily Chronicle:—

“Mafeking, November 19.—One item, the most unpleasant of the
whole beleaguerment, occupied attention during last week—that is, the
court-martial of Lieutenant Murchison for the murder of Mr. Parslow,
special war correspondent of the London Daily Chronicle. He was
a genial, good-humoured young fellow, and asked Murchison,
an artilleryman of ability and undoubted courage, to dine with
him. After dinner Mr. Parslow strolled with Murchison across the
Market Square towards Dixon’s Hotel, the headquarters of the
Staff, the ostensible purpose being for both of them to obtain a
copy of the orders for the day, usually issued about that time—half-past
nine or ten o’clock P.M. Some words ensued apparently
during the few minutes occupied in reaching Dixon’s. Parslow
left his companion in the passage of the hotel, and was passing out,
when it is alleged that Murchison drew his revolver and shot him
dead, the bullet entering his head on the occipital protuberance
an inch or an inch and a half behind the left ear, and lodging
against the base of the skull. The case is completed, and the
court closed to consider the verdict.”

The young journalist was exceedingly popular and deeply regretted.
He was buried with military honours on the evening of[Pg 21]
the 2nd. His coffin was covered with the Union Jack, and carried
to the grave by Major Baillie of the Morning Post, Mr. Angus
Hamilton of the Times, Mr. Hellawell of the Daily Mail, Mr.
Reilly of the Pall Mall Gazette, and the correspondent of the
Press Association. The funeral was attended by many members
of the Staff, who were desirous of showing their esteem for the
promising and gallant writer.

The Siege of Mafeking
Topographical Sketch showing the British and Boer Positions
From a sketch by a British officer brought by runner to Buluwayo

The enemy now engaged in hostilities under the command of
the son of Cronje, who was said to have had, in the interval, a
passage d’armes with his father, the General, the younger man
having taunted the elder for not having succeeded in reducing
Mafeking to submission. Whereupon Cronje fils undertook to
do the great deed himself, and in setting about it managed to get
killed. The Boers again stormed the place, and were driven back
in confusion by the magnificent energy of the British South African
Police, leaving strewn on the field of action an enormous number of
dead and wounded. Their removal occupied two hours. Captain
Goodyear, commanding a squad of Cape “boys,” made a dashing
sortie, and received a wound in the leg, but he nevertheless
captured the brickfields, and held them against the enemy, thus
preventing him from utilising them for sniping operations.

Sunday the 5th of November was, as usual, observed as a day of
truce. The enemy made an effort to defy the rules of Sabbath
etiquette, and were informed, under a flag of truce, that if they should
continue to erect works commanding the brickfields, the guns would
open fire on them. This warning had the desired effect. The
memory of Guy Fawkes, together with the news of our victories in
Natal, was honoured by an exhibition of fireworks—a display which
some thought rather de trop considering the nature of the daily
operations in the town. On the following day the Boers made
themselves unpleasantly obstreperous by saluting the place with
quick-firing guns, weapons whose shells burst almost simultaneously
with the report, thus depriving those aimed at of the chance of
running to cover.

The air of Mafeking is said to be equal to champagne, and perhaps
to its stimulating influence the garrison owed its sprightliness
and activity. The little township “ran” a journal of its own, and
though not so effervescent as The Lyre of Ladysmith, it had its
humorous side. The Mafeking Mail, as it was called, was issued
daily—shells permitting. Quoting from the Mail of the 1st of
November, a facsimile of which was reproduced by the Daily
Telegraph, we read that—

“We have borne the much-feared bombardment for a fortnight, and still
Mafeking stands. From what we have experienced we do not consider ourselves
too optimistic in anticipating a successful ending to the contest. For[Pg 22]
the first time in the history of Boer warfare have the Boers been defeated at
every turn by a force far inferior in point of numbers. Since the first attack
on Saturday, October 14th, they fly directly our guns are heard. Safely out of
range they fire into the town, but they do not appear to be pining for another
attempt at storming Mafeking. In the ‘general orders’ issued last Sunday
the following occurs:—‘The Colonel Commanding having made a careful
inspection of the defences of the town and the native stadt, is now of opinion
that no force that the Boers are likely to bring against us could possibly effect
an entrance at any point.’ Now, this is like the advertisements say a certain
cocoa is—grateful and comforting, and we feel that having got so far through
the ordeal, we have only to remain steadfast, as the matter of a little time will
see decided the first great step towards the settlement of the future of South
Africa. There is no doubt that the attention of Great Britain, the Colonies, in
fact, the whole world, is now riveted upon this little spot, which is now playing
a prominent part in the most important epoch in the history of this wonderful
continent. We know there is no need to urge the claims of our country and
kindred upon our gallant garrison. Being in such close touch with each other
that nothing but the exceptional circumstances thrust upon us could have made
possible, we are in a position to judge and recognise the steady determination
that British blood and British pluck exhibit when such a crisis as the present
arises, and we know that the memory of Bronkhurst Spruit, Majuba, and
Potchefstrom will make that determination, supported by the knowledge of our
grand successes of the past fortnight, more firm, more strong, and more united
than has been before, and this, with the grand soldier who is in command here,
will render certain the first stages towards the complete crushing of the enemy.

“There is no doubt that there was landed in South Africa by Sunday
last a body of 57,000 men, including probably twelve or fourteen regiments of
cavalry, twenty or twenty-two batteries of artillery, and forty regiments of
infantry, besides, most likely, a body of mounted infantry. Of this force there
will be not less than 15,000 disembarked at Cape Town and despatched on
the road here. They may now be settling accounts with the Boers outside
Kimberley, in which case Vryburg might be reached by Sunday, allowing for
some delay at Fourteen Streams. When our troops reach Vryburg the air of
Mafeking will not suit Cronje sprinters, so by this day week we may begin to
wish them a pleasant journey back to the Transvaal. It will then be merely
an interchange of courtesy if we return the visit.

“When the big gun with which the enemy hoped to pulverise us, and which
has sent more shells in the neighbourhood of the hospital and women’s laager
than in any other parts of the town, is taken by our troops, we think it only
fair to Mafeking that it should be brought here. It will make a good memorial
and be an object lesson to succeeding generations, who, reading the history of
our bombardment, and seeing the weapon employed against our women and
children, will be able to judge of the nineteenth-century Boer’s fitness to dominate
such a territory as the Transvaal. Let it be placed, say, in the space
opposite the entrance to the railway station, raised on end, with the unexploded
shells piled at its base, with a description of Colonel Baden-Powell’s clever
defence of the place. We hope the Colonel will bear the town in mind when
the disposal of the gun is under discussion.

“Major Lord E. Cecil, C.S.O., last evening issued the following under the
heading of ‘General Orders’:”—

[Here was recorded Colonel Baden-Powell’s appreciation of the action of
Colonel Walford and his gallant men, which has been previously quoted.]

[Pg 23]

The perusal of the opening paragraphs of the Mafeking Mail
serves to enlighten us as to the degrees of hope deferred through
which the plucky inhabitants had to pass. The pathos of the
expression, “So by this day week we may begin to wish them a
pleasant journey back to the Transvaal,” can only be understood by
comparing the date to which it referred with that of the relief of the
noble garrison—the 17th of May 1900!

On the 7th of November, the force under Major Godley and
Captain Vernon made a successful sortie, the excellent management
of which was recognised in an order issued by Colonel
Baden-Powell:—

“The surprise against the enemy to the westward of the town
was smartly and successfully executed at dawn this morning by a
force under the direction of Major Godley. Captain Vernon’s
squadron of the Protectorate Regiment carried this operation out
with conspicuous coolness and steadiness. The gunners, under
Major Panzera, fought and worked their guns well under a very
trying fire from the enemy. The Bechuanaland Rifles are to be
congratulated on the efficient services rendered by them under
Captain Cowan in this their first engagement in the field. The
enemy appeared to have suffered severely, while our casualties
were luckily very light. This is largely due to the fact that
Major Godley delivered his blow suddenly and quickly, and withdrew
his force again in good time and order. The Colonel
Commanding has much pleasure in placing on record a plucky
piece of work by Gunners R. Cowan and F. H. Godson. The
Hotchkiss gun, of which they had charge, was overturned and
its trail-hook broken in course of action. In spite of a very heavy
fire from the enemy’s one-pound Maxim and seven-pound Krupp,
these men attached the trail to the limber by ropes, and brought
the gun safely away.”

At this time the town was surrounded by some 2000 Boers,
and a heavy shell-fire was daily exchanged. The damage done, however,
was slight, except in the case of the Convent, which seemed
to be a favourite mark for the Boer gunners. The trenches of the
besiegers had been moved to about 2000 yards of the town, and
from here the enemy fired with rifles, but with indifferent success.
The Boers, in fact, were getting disheartened. Colonel Baden-Powell
was proving himself prepared to enter into a competitive
examination on the subject of “slimness” with them, and they
were somewhat disturbed at the intellectual strain demanded
for rivalry against so smart a pupil. All manner of efforts were
made, and there was even a Dutch council of war as to the propriety
of making a midnight attack upon the place. But the wily Colonel
was ready for them. He took care that lanterns should be placed[Pg 24]
in suitable positions to illumine the paths of the would-be assailants,
and when they turned on these lanterns the attention of their
guns and broke them, more were immediately found to take their
place. There was also the British bayonet in reserve, and a hint
which they did not care to prove as a certainty—that dynamite was
somewhere or other arranged in a ring round the place, so that
at a given sign the too pressing attentions of intruders might
be disposed of. These some one called “the B. P. Surprise
Packets,” which were arranged on the lucky-tub principle, ready
for those who might venture on an experimental dive. The
exact locality was not disclosed, in order that their whereabouts
might prove a never-ending source of wonder and interest to the
besiegers.

Outpost and Entrenchment, Southern Fort, Mafeking

As before said, continual sorties took place, and Colonel Baden-Powell
succeeded in capturing mules and horses from the enemy
and generally harassing him. Great expectations sustained the
gallant little party that Colonel Plumer’s force would shortly make
its way from the north and join hands with Colonel Baden-Powell.
Early in November the opposing forces stood thus:[Pg 25]—

But later, some of the Boers were drawn off for service in the south.

SERGEANT-MAJOR—IMPERIAL LIGHT HORSE.
Photo by Gregory & Co., London.

KURUMAN AND ELSEWHERE

Of the diminutive town of Kuruman and its gallant struggle
little can be said. The garrison—consisting of seventy-five British
subjects, including the men that came from Bastards—under the
command of Captain Baker stood out valiantly, fighting with rare
obstinacy, and hoping that British success elsewhere would speedily
draw off the intermittent attentions of the Boers. From the 13th
to the 20th of November a strong party of Dutchmen kept up
incessant pressure, but they were forced to retreat, though both
sides suffered loss. On the part of the British one special constable
was killed.

The official details of the defence showed that the Mission
Station which was formerly the centre of Dr. Moffat’s long work
among the natives of that part of Africa was the point of resistance
to the Boer attack. When the Dutch commandant notified the
magistrate of his intention to occupy the place, the latter replied
that he had orders to defend it. Thereupon he collected twenty
natives and thirty half-castes, with whose aid he barricaded the
Mission Chapel, and there resisted the assault of 500 Boers for six
days and nights, after which the Boers abandoned the attack.

To look back on the amazing valour of the tiny garrison, unsuccessful
though it was, makes every British heart swell with pride.
On the outbreak of hostilities, Mr. Hilliard, the Resident Magistrate,
called a meeting of the inhabitants, and eloquently urged them to
remain loyal. This, as we know, they did, with the result that the
place resisted the Boers and routed them, and, moreover, set a
most salutary example of loyalty to the surrounding districts of
Cape Colony. The following extracts from five short letters (all
dated November 24), written by Mr. and Mrs. Hilliard to relatives,
will be of interest, as showing the gallant spirit that sustained these
brave people, and the love for Queen and country that was so practically
displayed by them. Mr. Hilliard said:—“Just a short letter
to say we have been fighting the Boers here from the 13th to the
18th, and have driven them back with heavy loss. I received a
letter from their ‘Fighting General,’ Visser, on Sunday the 12th,
saying that if I did not surrender the town voluntarily, he would
take it by main force. I replied that if he did he would have to[Pg 26]
take the consequences of his illegal act, as my Government had
not instructed me to evacuate the town. The enemy has drawn
off towards Vryburg.” In another letter he said:—“We are going
strong; the brave little garrison is so good and cheerful. The
army has gone, but may return, so we are prepared.” In yet another
he wrote:—“We are all right up to now, and shall stick to our
dear old flag till the last, whatever happens. May God defend the
right and our dear Queen. Three cheers for all.” Mrs. Hilliard
wrote:—“On Monday, November 13, the Boers attacked Kuruman.
Our men fought bravely for six days, after which the Boers
departed, and we don’t know if they intend returning or not.
Charlie is at the Police Camp, and looks well and happy. He is
very proud of our men. Our men are still on the alert, and are
strengthening their forts, as the Boers will not return without a
cannon. They quite expected this place to be handed over to them
at once, as Vryburg was.”

This state of affairs continued till the end of the year. On the
1st of January the plucky little garrison was at last forced to surrender.
This, they said, they would never have done had they
possessed a single cannon. The Boer artillery knocked to pieces
the improvised fort before the white flag was hoisted over the ruins.
Four men were killed and eighteen wounded in the splendid but
hopeless effort to hold the open village against a foe provided with
artillery and superior in numbers. The Boers numbered twelve
hundred against some seventy-five practically helpless men! So the
unequal tug-of-war came to an end—we may say, an honourable end.

In Northern Rhodesia, British subjects were practically isolated.
The telegraph to the south was cut, and the railway—some four
hundred miles of it—was damaged in various places. To show
the state of remoteness in which the unfortunate inhabitants found
themselves, it is sufficient to say that a telegram from London to
Buluwayo took sixteen days in transit. Letters from Port Elizabeth
were received about three weeks after being posted. It may easily
be imagined what dearth of news prevailed, and how even such
news as it was, was falsified by rumour. But the excellent fellows
kept heart, although they were, as one of them said, “absolutely
ignored by the British Government, and had not a red coat in the
country.” He went on to say, “We have any quantity of men of grit,
and about a thousand fellows have volunteered to fight out of a
total population of men, women, and children of six thousand at most.”

So little could reach us as to the doings of Colonel Plumer’s
splendid little force, that the following letter from Trooper Young,
a barrister, who joined at the outbreak of the war, may be[Pg 27]
quoted. It supplies some early links in the chain of the brave
history:—

“Fort Tuli, South Africa, November 9, 1899.

“I’ve had a bit of an exciting time since I last wrote—almost
too exciting at one time. Last time I wrote was when we were
leaving Tuli for Rhodes Drift. We arrived there all right after
much marching and counter-marching, mostly by night. The
second night of it, for the small portion we had for sleep I struck
a guard; so by the third night I was in a wretched state from want
of sleep. I was always dropping off to sleep on my horse and
suddenly waking up. Moreover, I began to see all sorts of strange
things. Brooks and trees were transformed into houses and gardens,
and then I would come-to with a start and pinch myself
and try to keep awake—a very unpleasant experience. When we
reached Rhodes Drift, our squadron was quartered there alone, and
we had a couple of brushes with the enemy to start with.

“I missed the first, in which we had much the best of it. We
only had one man hit, and that only slightly, and in return we bowled
over a couple of Dutchmen (others may have been wounded), stampeded
their horses, over a hundred in number (we surprised their grazing
guard), killed or wounded twenty of the horses, and jumped seven.
The next fight was warm for a bit. We had only half the squadron—about
forty-five men—who were reconnoitring round the enemy’s
fort dismounted. This was only three miles from our camp and in
British territory. We had four men wounded, and did an equal
amount of damage to them, if not more. We got off very cheap,
for their fire was very hot, and very close too. The third fight
came off on November 2, and that was a scorcher. On the night
before it I was on guard. It was a beastly night, raining and
blowing hard, so I got very little sleep when it was my turn off. In
the day I was in charge of the grazing guard with three other men.

“About one o’clock I got orders to bring in the horses, which
I did, and had just got all the horses tied up when the Dutch started
firing on us. I’d just got into a nice position behind a good big
rock when I was ordered to ride out to warn our outlying pickets.
There were three of them, four men in each, about a mile or a
mile and a half away. A risky job it was too. Two of us were
sent. I asked the other man which he would go to. He chose
the one I had wanted, so I had the worst job—two pickets to warn,
and had to ride right through the line of fire. As I started, one of
our officers shouted, ‘Don’t spare your horse; ride like h—ll;’ and
I did too. Directly I got out, ping-ping came two bullets, a bit
high, but others soon followed much closer. I got out, though, all
right, warned the two pickets, and came in with them. We got
a bit of a fusillade on us when we got near the fort, but had no[Pg 28]
casualties. The man who rode to the other picket had his horse
shot under him; so I scored—not for long, though, for my own
horse was shot soon after.

“When I got back, I found we were having a very hot time. Our
position was a couple of small kopjes close together. On two sides
there was an open space for about 600 or 700 yards. On the other
two sides there was a lot of bush and a ridge running round us,
which we were not strong enough to occupy. The Boers had in
the field between 300 and 400 men, so we thought; we afterwards
found that that was not overstating their number. Moreover, they
had 250 men and one gun at Brice’s Store, about six miles away on
the Tuli road, and strong reinforcements at their camp. They gave
us the devil of a time. At first they fired mostly at the horses.
They, poor beasts, had no cover, and nearly every one was hit. A
few broke loose and bolted. Later, they turned their attention to
us. Luckily, their shell-fire was very wild, or we should have
suffered heavily. As it was, we had not a man even wounded; but it
was a miracle we did not, for at times their rifle-fire was very heavy,
and now and then they got a good shell in. I had a narrow shave.
A shell burst just near me, and one of the splinters struck a stone
and sent a piece of it bang against my leg. It cut right through my
putties, three folds of them. I made certain I was wounded, and
was much relieved to find there was no damage done.

“When the evening came, we had two alternatives—to stay where
we were and wait to be cut up, or try to go through to Tuli. It was
finally decided to do the latter, and it was undoubtedly the right
thing to do. If we had remained, we should have been surrounded
the next day, and every one slaughtered. With ninety men against a
thousand we should have had no show; still, it was a very bitter pill
having to sneak off at night, leaving everything behind (including
the few horses left alive), our kit and waggons, even the ambulance
waggon. It was horrible saying good-bye to our horses. My poor
little Whiskey was wounded and very unhappy; we were not
allowed to shoot the wounded ones, as we had to sneak off as
quietly as possible. It was very sad work. Luckily we had no man
hit. I don’t know what we should have done if we had. I suppose
we should have remained there and taken the inevitable consequences,
as we would not have left them. We left at 8 P.M., and
arrived at Tuli at 1 P.M. next day, only two halts, one and a half in
the night for sleep, and another of half-an-hour for breakfast, which
for me and most of us consisted of water. I had nothing to eat
except one small cookie from 8 A.M. the morning of the fight to
2 P.M. the next day.

“Altogether, we marched forty miles through awful country, for
a long way through brushwood called the ‘wait-a-bit’ thorn, and in[Pg 29]
the night, too; it tore our clothes, hands, arms, and faces to bits;
then through sand, over kopjes covered with thick brush. Altogether
it was equal to sixty miles of English roads, and we went pretty fast
when the way allowed. We had one pleasant surprise; one of our
officers left us and rode on to Tuli when we were about ten miles
off, and reported that we were only a few miles out, pretty dead-beat,
as we were. Until Captain Glynne arrived, they believed we were
all cut up, and one of the squadrons rode out to us and lent us their
horses, for which we were very grateful. They met us about three
miles out, and I’m blowed if I know how we could have crawled in
without them; we were absolutely dead-beat. I was never so glad
of a ride in my life. When we got into camp, we found that three
or four of the men of E squadron, who had been left behind at
Tuli sick, or had come in riding with dispatches, had prepared food
for us, which was also very grateful, for we wanted it. We had left
most of our kit behind at Tuli, so we were able to have a change of
clothes and a wash, both very much needed, and then I must say I
did enjoy myself. It was simply delightful to lie down and loaf
about and do nothing but smoke cigarettes. All the bitterness of
the defeat and the loss of our horses seemed to disappear, and I
thoroughly enjoyed myself that afternoon.

“At Tuli every one believed we were cut up. A party from
there, twenty-five in number, when escorting some waggons to us,
were attacked by a much superior force at Brice’s Store and badly
defeated. They had to take to the bush and abandon the waggons.
They brought four men wounded back, while seven were missing,
including the parson, who was coming to see us—he was wounded
in the leg. According to the men who were there, he was taking a
distinctly active part in the fight. A squadron of some of the police,
about 120 in all, were sent out to try and relieve us, but near the
store were met by some of the boys who had bolted from us, and
who reported that we were already wiped out, every man killed; so
they returned without trying to force their way through to us. In
Tuli they were much relieved to hear of our safe arrival. It was
certainly a very narrow squeak for us; it is still a wonder to me
how we managed to escape without losing a man. Certainly we
had very good cover, and took advantage of it; it was the only
thing we could do. We managed to silence their rifle-fire once or
twice, but could do nothing against their long-range shell-fire.
Since then we have had very little to do, but expect to have some
more fighting before long, when we hope to get a bit of our own
back. One thing I think I may say without boasting—we all
behaved very well. There was not a sign of funk, and every one
took it coolly. As a matter of fact, more than half of E squadron
had been under fire before, either in Rhodesia or elsewhere.[Pg 30]”

To understand the effect of war upon Rhodesia at this time, we
must read the following extracts from a letter written by a “Son of the
Manse” in business near Buluwayo, dated 11th November 1899:—“We
have been cut off from the south for more than five weeks, and
are very badly off for news. Such news as we get comes by Beira,
and as there is no cable between Delagoa Bay and Beira, this makes
things worse. We have heard nothing from Mafeking since its
investment by the Boers except a couple of messages sent out by
a native runner to the nearest telegraph office still in touch with
Buluwayo. A number of men from here are on the southern frontier
keeping the Boers in check, so as to prevent them making a
raid in this direction. They have had several skirmishes, but the
Boers are not in any great force, as they appear to have concentrated
their men on the Natal border, where most of the fighting
will probably take place. Business is so slow here that numbers
can get leave from their offices for the asking, and there were lots of
fellows in town doing nothing who were only too glad of the chance
of earning 10s. a day, which the Government are paying the Volunteers.
The local newspaper here is of little use at present, as it has
not funds to get direct news from Natal, and the only reliable
information we get is published by the authorities. The Chronicle
here came out with a special edition yesterday, describing a serious
reverse to the British (two thousand men and forty-six officers captured),
but it turned out to be taken from a German paper published
in Zanzibar and sent to Beira, and I trust it may prove false. We
won’t get any newspapers, I fear, as long as the mails come viâ
Beira, owing to the cost of bringing them from Salisbury by coach,
but we hope there will be a change for the better soon. When
the newspapers come they will be interesting reading…. The
stoppage of the railway has had a serious effect in Buluwayo, as it
has caused a tremendous rise in the prices of everything, and if
most of the merchants had not laid in immense stocks in anticipation
of what was coming, things would be very much worse. Some
articles are very scarce. Potatoes are about £5 a sack, and
of very inferior quality. Sugar is 9d. to 1s. per lb.; and a 200-lb.
sack of flour costs 50s. to 60s., cheaper than most things, as there
was an enormous stock stored. Everything is likely to go up still
higher before supplies can reach the town, and fresh meal will soon
be practically unattainable, and every one will have to depend on
tinned meat. There are no colonial eggs coming up, so we are
getting about 5s. a dozen for ours, and the price will probably rise,
as with everything else. Some of the restaurants and hotels have
had to close their dining-room, as so many men have gone to the
front. The demand for eggs and fuel (wood) is, therefore, somewhat
decreased. Several storekeepers talk of getting things from[Pg 31]
Salisbury, and if prices rise very much perhaps it would pay. The
average rate per waggon to Salisbury lately was nearly 25s. per
100 lbs. weight. The mines are still working fairly, and may be
kept on. The Kaffirs round here seem to take little interest in the
war, and the most of them have not the remotest idea where Natal
is, although the Matabele came from there less than seventy years
ago. Of course they all know the Boers, and thoroughly detest
them, as they have very good reason to do. We have only had a
few showers of rain here so far, and the grass is very poor. We
can work our donkeys much at present on that account, as I want
to have them in good order, as transport will be very high when
communications are again established.”

In Southern Rhodesia the Boers were kept in check by the
activities of Colonel Holdsworth. In order to reconnoitre, and, if
possible, attack the Boer laager at Sekwani, he started on the
23rd of November with seventy-five mounted men and ten cyclists
on a night march over sandy roads in a region where water was
extremely scarce. At daybreak they reached the Dutch laager and
caught the Boers napping. Lieutenant Llewellyn wished them an
energetic “Good morning” by means of a Maxim gun at 1000 to
1200 yards range, with the result that the enemy, about eighty
strong, were routed from their position among the kopjes. The Boers
retired to other kopjes, and from thence offered resistance, but as
storming them would have entailed considerable loss, the British
force returned to camp. They, however, burned a large store of
ammunition and captured some rifles. Therefore their hundred-mile
march, accomplished in twenty-three hours, was not profitless.

MAFEKING, November

Poor Mafeking! The inevitable hung like a ghost over everything—bodiless,
formless, but always there at the elbows of the
gallant band that so long had held out against the foe. He was
now coming closer—closer, continuing to sap and approach by
parallels, till before long not only shells but rifle-fire would render
streets impassable, shelters useless, and fortified positions dangerous.
Colonel Baden-Powell’s brilliant wits were hard pressed to keep the
enemy from carrying the town by storm, and all who valued their
lives lived underground, burrowing like rabbits, or in bomb-proof
shelters, from which occasionally they were routed, not by fire but
by water.

Still the word surrender was unspelt. None dared breathe it
aloud. A battery of seven field-guns blazing their hot fire and
doing their fell work made no effect—the besieged remained firm.
Mauser bullets whizzed past their ears; shells long as coal-scuttles and
nearly as thick crashed into buildings, now into the hospital, now the[Pg 32]
convent, or sometimes into the women’s laager, leaving not seldom a
track of mourning and blood; but the Boer could not plume himself
on victory. Not so far off his white tents reflected the sunlight,
and closer still the grim music of his rifles was eternally to be
heard; but inside the little town were men who were developing
from mere men of commerce into toughened warriors, and assisting
Colonel Baden-Powell and his diminutive force to maintain the
majesty of Great Britain, with a chivalry that might have done
honour to the knights of old.

Towards the middle of the month the garrison was much cheered
by the arrival on the scene of a plucky American journalist, who
had ridden from the Cape straight through the Boer lines, and who
came with all the buoyancy of the outer world to delight the ears
of the British with tales of Lord Methuen’s advance. Other news
now and then filtered in, and this the Colonel, either viva voce or
by means of his typewriter, promptly shared with the whole interested
community.

Facsimile of Writing in Album by Col. Baden-Powell

To make it evident that Mafeking was determined to keep lively
and aggressive in spite of intermittent bombardment, several more
gallant sorties were made, and on each occasion the little place came
off with flying colours. Commander Cronje, disgusted, finally took
himself off with some twenty waggons to Riceters (Transvaal),
leaving his guns with the remaining commandoes and relegating to
them the task of reducing the truculent town to submission.

Ruses, which are as the breath of his nostrils to the Boer in
warfare, continued to be tried on Colonel Baden-Powell, who may be
said to have almost enjoyed new chances to whet his wits and showed
himself the last person to be caught napping. Indeed, some one at
the time remarked that if they wanted to take him in they would
have to get up very early in the morning and stay awake all night
into the bargain! The latest Boer device was to make a show of
going away and leaving a big gun apparently in a state of being[Pg 33]
dismantled. This of course was what in vulgar phrase might be
called a “draw” for the besieged. But the Colonel was not to be
drawn; his smart scouts continually found the enemy hidden in force,
and thereupon put every one on their guard. Mafeking, in fact,
“sat tight” and—winked!

MAJOR-GENERAL LORD KITCHENER OF KHARTOUM.
Photo by Bassano, London.

Meanwhile the inhabitants were pushing out advanced works
with good effect, and began to feel more and more confident that
their pluck and patience would ultimately receive their reward.
Their bomb-proof shelters were becoming works of art. They
were no longer rabbit-warrens, but well-ventilated apartments,
roofed with the best steel rails and sand-bags, and lighted by
windows resembling portholes. Great ingenuity was displayed in
the wedding of safety with comfort, and the owners soon began to
grow interested in the artistic quality of their improvised retreats!

On the 25th of November another gallant sortie was made,
and the Chartered Company’s Police, with magnificent pluck and
determination, attacked Eloffsfort and kept the Boers from further
encroachment.

For some days nothing unusual took place. The Boers continued
to annoy with their 10-ton gun and the Boer flag began to
float over the fortified places surrounding the town. In fact, there
was a somewhat wearisome monotony in the programme of daily life.
The laconic report at that time of one of the sufferers was that the
sole resource was to “snipe and wait!” Fortunately pressure elsewhere
was beginning to draw off some of the hostile legions, and
consequently the activity of the assault on the town was diminished.
It was quite evident that Colonel Baden-Powell had been found
a nasty nut to crack, and that his earthworks, his trenches, his
underground shelters, his night attacks, and his hundred-and-one
minor dodges, which had been craftily invented to test the amiability
of the ingenuous Boer, were scarcely appreciated. Indeed,
the worthy Cronje, when wisely taking himself off, was reported to
have owned that the Mafeking blend of Baden-Powell-dynamite-mine-and-best-Sheffield
was decidedly infernal!

On this subject the correspondent of the Times, who was cooped
in Mafeking, said: “The significance of the dynamite mines which
surround our position cannot be under-estimated. Had the Boers
any trustworthy information as to the whereabouts of the mines, the
town would probably have been stormed weeks ago. The general
ignorance on their part of the locality of the mines creates corresponding
dread. The mines may be taken as a material effort on
the part of Rhodesia to assist Imperial prestige and interests. The
Postmaster-General of Rhodesia lent Mr. Kiddy, manager of telegraphs,
to superintend the laying of mines, telephones, and field-telegraphs.
The services so rendered have been invaluable.[Pg 34]”

Of the Commandant another of the beleaguered band wrote:
“Commanding us we have a man than whom we could have none
better. The Colonel is always smiling, and is a host in himself.
To see ‘B. P.,’ as he is affectionately termed, whistling down the
street, deep in thought, pleasing of countenance, cheerful and confident,
is cheering and heartening—far more cheering and heartening
than a pint of dry champagne. Had any man in whom the town
placed less confidence been in command, disaster might have befallen
Mafeking; and if we are able to place the name of Mafeking upon
the roll of the Empire’s outposts which have fought for the honour
and glory of Britain, it will be chiefly because Baden-Powell has
commanded us.”

That our good old friend Punch should, in his old age, cause
almost intoxicating delight is a fact worthy of note. A copy
brought by Reuter’s cyclist-runner was safely carried into the town,
to the intense joy of its inhabitants. It contained the cartoon by
Sir John Tenniel in which John Bull is represented as telling the
Boer that if he wishes to fight it must be a fight to the finish. The
journal was read and re-read even to the advertisements, and
gloated over for many days. What has now become of it is a
question of interest. There are doubtless many collectors of war
trophies who would pay more than his weight in gold for Mr. Punch
after he had lived through and shared in the vicissitudes of siege
life in Mafeking.

The pluck of Colonel Baden-Powell seemed to be epidemic.
Young boys, and even women, clamoured to do their share of the
work, and strove to display a perfectly unruffled front in face of shot
and shell. In one house some ladies stuck to their abode while the
breastworks were being built, and employed the interval in playing
and singing the National Anthem, thus stimulating and cheering
the workers outside, who joined heartily in the chorus. On the
28th of November grand preparations were made for an evening
attack, and these were quietly inspected by Colonel Baden-Powell
in the small hours of the morning. But the Boers, whose spies
were for ever busy, were forewarned and had evacuated their
position. From the advanced trench in the river-bed some successful
sniping at the foe on the brickfields was carried on, however,
and from here the enemy was eventually routed by the smart action
of the besieged.

During the night the Colonel ordered Captain Fitzclarence,
with D squadron and a Hotchkiss gun, to relieve Lord C. Bentinck
and to support the “snipers” in the river-bed. D squadron took
up a position in the river-bed under Captain Fitzclarence and Lieutenant
Bridges 1400 yards from “Big Ben.” The Cape Police and
a Maxim at the extreme south-east corner, and Captain Marsh with[Pg 35]
a detachment of the Cape Police in the native stadt at 2000 yards
range, co-operated. It now became impossible for the Boer
artillerists to hold the emplacement of their 100-lb. gun. Heavy
three-cornered volleying from the British positions swept the parapet
of “Big Ben” every time its detachment attempted to turn the gun
upon the town. The remarkable accuracy of our fire kept the Boer
gunners at bay, and after discharging two shells they withdrew
the weapon below its platform. The enemy made some futile
efforts to renew the shelling, but at last desisted. But on the
morrow the customary salute of big guns was resumed. Meanwhile
the Colonel employed himself with various jokes of a very
practical nature, which served to keep the wits and energies of
the Boers in a perpetual state of polish.

News from Colonel Plumer and his force was scarce, but all
were aware that their days and nights were spent in hard work,
great discomfort, and in perpetual and gallant efforts to come to
the aid of the besieged town. It must be remembered that the
Rhodesian Regiment originally had for its object the protection of
the northern border of the Transvaal and a portion of the western
side. Mafeking made, as it were, the outer gate, and this gate it
was necessary to defend in order to preserve the communications
with the north and with Buluwayo. No sooner, therefore, was it
locked by a state of siege, than the entire responsibility of keeping
the Boers at bay in the northern fringe of the Transvaal devolved
on Colonel Plumer, who, on arrival at Tuli, set to work to guard
the Drifts, and keep an eye on all quarters along the Crocodile
where the Boers might try to effect a crossing. At Rhodes Drift,
twenty-six miles south of South Tuli, he posted Major Pilsen with
250 mounted infantry, while Captain Maclaren, with fifty men of
the Rhodesia Regiment and twenty of the Bechuanaland Border
Police, was sent to garrison Macloutsie, some thirty miles north
of the Limpopo, where it was said the Boers hoped to put in an
appearance. Major Pilsen, as we know, was forced to retire on
Tuli, after which the position vacated by him was occupied by
Colonel Spreckley (Southern Rhodesia Volunteers), who in his
turn was obliged to make a night march back to Tuli, with the loss
of all his horses. Soon after this, strong Boer patrols approached
daily towards Tuli, and the garrison had an anxious and energetic
time. Minor skirmishes took place with certain success, but leaving
behind them their melancholy roll of killed and wounded. Soon,
however, a British victory south, and Colonel Plumer’s exertions round
about, combined to alter the Boer plans, and at length their retirement
in the direction of Mafeking was reported. Whereupon this
enterprising officer prepared to enter the Transvaal, whither he was
driven, not by the enemy, but by drought. On the 1st of December[Pg 36]
he started from Tuli with a force of mounted men, and, after hairbreadth
escapes, in four or five days reached a place some fifty miles
north of Petersburg, the chief town in the north of the South
African Republic. He also proceeded down the railway line
towards Mafeking, but was continually harassed by the enemy, and
continually obliged to retrace his steps owing to lack of water and
other insuperable difficulties. Here we must leave him for a time.

The Boers, learning that necessity is the mother of invention, and
finding they could not get into Mafeking, were obliged to communicate
with the Baden-Powell “braves” in an original manner. They
fired into the town a five-pounder shell, which failed to explode. It
was examined, opened, and discovered to contain the following
jocose epistle:—“Dear Powell,—Excuse an iron messenger. There
is no other means of communicating. Please tell Mrs. — Mother and
family all well. Don’t drink all the whisky. Leave some for us
when we get in.” This was a little piece of innocent diversion compared
to other experiences. On the following day a shell from
a Boer 100-pounder struck a store, sending its splinters far and
wide, and carrying devastation in its wake. Daily some tragic
episode was the result of a well-directed shot, some white or black
inhabitant was left a mangled, hopeless wreck—a pathetic fortuitous
atom blown to the winds by the blast of war. In addition to
the intermittent uproar of the heavy guns, heaven’s thunders at times
broke out, with copious showers of rain, and one of these, on the 5th,
was so violent that it flooded out the trenches, and made all bomb-proof
shelters untenable. Trouble and discomfort were as far as
possible relieved with great energy by Lord Edward Cecil and others,
but the effects of the inundation were not easily removed. Brisk
engagements between the sharpshooters on either side now formed
part of a morning and evening programme, and the Protectorate
Regiment, under Lord Charles Bentinck, did such good service that
the enemy grew shy of approach, and concluded that the process of
starving out the garrison would be more comfortable than shelling
so vigorous and retaliative a community.

On the 10th of December the Dutchman Viljoen, who was a
prisoner, was exchanged for Lady Sarah Wilson. The story of this
enterprising lady is one of remarkable interest. In the beginning of
the siege she left Mafeking and rode to Setlagoli Hotel, where she
arrived on the same night. No sooner was she asleep than the rattle
and roar of musketry commenced. This was afterwards discovered
to be the gallant fight of Lieutenant Nesbitt on the armoured train,
which has been described in the opening story of the siege. Poor
Nesbitt, it may be remembered, was taken prisoner. Lady Sarah, a
day or two after the fight, rode to the scene of the engagement and
photographed the wreck. Later on, this intrepid lady moved from[Pg 37]
Mosuti to the care of a colonial farmer, and with great difficulty
and much expenditure of energy and coin, she managed to induce
the natives to provide her with information. All this time she and
her friends were subject to the insults of the Boers. At one period
she was declared to be the sole survivor of Mafeking, in hiding in
the disguise of a woman. At another, she was believed to be the
wife of one of the British generals. Others declared that the extraordinary
lady was a member of the Royal Family, who was acting
as spy on the doings of the Boers in the Colony. After moving to
Vryburg, life for her became more exciting still. A young Boer
passed her off as his sister, and some loyalists in the town gave her
shelter, and helped her to obtain official despatches and news. But
her state was far from comfortable, for most of her excursions had
to be made under the shadow of night, and her days were spent
enclosed in a room at the hotel. When Lady Sarah desired to
leave the town, her exit was not so easy. The magistrates had
issued orders that no one was to leave, and but for the kindness of
her “brother Boer,” she might not have been able to depart. Their
journey was commenced at four in the morning, while it was still
dark, and before leaving the town they had to submit to a search of
their car, lest it should contain any contraband of war.

At last, however, it was discovered that Lady Sarah Wilson’s
energy was connected with despatch-running, and her liberty was
threatened. One day while riding to Mafeking with her maid she
was captured by the Boers. On reaching Snyman’s camp, the
general refused to allow her to proceed to her destination or to
return to Setlagoli. She was then detained as a prisoner of war,
pending negotiations with Colonel Baden-Powell regarding the terms
of her release. The Colonel offered to exchange for Lady Sarah a
Boer lady prisoner, but the enemy refused to part with their prize
till Viljoen, who was incarcerated in Mafeking, was first given up.
Colonel Baden-Powell then represented that he, as a natural consequence,
and without terms of exchange, had at once transferred
women and children prisoners to the care of their people; but the
Boer general was not to be prevailed upon by argument. Eventually
Viljoen was given up and Lady Sarah returned safe and well to
Mafeking. The transaction, though somewhat unpleasant, was on
the whole decidedly complimentary to Lady Sarah in particular,
and to the British feminine sex in general. It fully proved that
an Englishwoman might in future view herself as the equivalent of
a Boer officer.

The artillery-fire of the enemy was now beginning to prove
more efficient than formerly. In spite of this, however, Colonel
Baden-Powell, in the kindness of his heart, issued a warning to
the Burghers advising them to make terms and go home. This[Pg 38]
very characteristic epistle is here reproduced, as it shows the
amazing blend of serpent and dove in the spirit of the man who
was at that moment facing the choice of death or surrender:—

“To the Burghers under arms round Mafeking:—

“Burghers,—I address you in this manner because I have only recently
learned how you have been intentionally kept in the dark by your officers,
the Government, and the newspapers as to what is happening in other parts
of South Africa. As the officer commanding Her Majesty’s troops on this
border, I think it right to point out clearly the inevitable result of your
remaining longer under arms against Great Britain. You are aware that the
present war was caused by the invasion of British territory by your forces
without justifiable reasons. Your leaders do not tell you that so far your
forces have only met the advanced guard of the British forces. The circumstances
have changed within the last week. The main body of the British are
now daily arriving by thousands from England, Canada, India, and Australia,
and are about to advance through the country. In a short time the Republic
will be in the hands of the English, and no sacrifice of life on your part can
stop it. The question now that you have to put to yourselves before it is too
late is:—Is it worth while losing your lives in a vain attempt to stop the
invasion or take a town beyond your borders, which, if taken, will be of no
use to you?

“I may tell you that Mafeking cannot be taken by sitting down and looking
at it, for we have ample supplies for several months. The Staats artillery
has done very little damage, and we are now protected both by troops and
mines. Your presence here and elsewhere under arms cannot stop the British
advancing through your country. Your leaders and newspapers are also
trying to make you believe that some foreign combination or Power is likely
to intervene in your behalf against England. It is not in keeping with their
pretence that your side is going to be victorious, nor in accordance with facts.
The Republics having declared war and taken the offensive, cannot claim intervention
on their behalf. The German Emperor is at present in England, and
fully sympathises with us. The American Government has warned others of
its intention to side with England should any Power intervene. France has
large interests in the goldfields, identical with those of England. Italy is
entirely in accord with us. Russia has no cause to interfere. The war is of
one Government against another, and not of a people against another people.
The duty assigned to my troops is to sit still here until the proper time
arrives, and then to fight and kill until you give in. You, on the other hand,
have other interests to think of, your families, farms, and their safety. Your
leaders have caused the destruction of farms, and have fired on women and
children. Our men are becoming hard to restrain in consequence. They
have also caused the invasion of Kaffir territory, looting their cattle, and have
thus induced them to rise and invade your country and kill your Burghers.
As one white man to another, I warned General Cronje on November 14 that
this would occur. Yesterday I heard that more Kaffirs were rising. I have
warned General Snyman accordingly. Great bloodshed and destruction of
farms threaten you on all sides.

“I wish to offer you a chance of avoiding it. My advice to you is to
return to your homes without delay and remain peaceful till the war is over.
Those who do this before the 13th will, as far as possible, be protected, as
regards yourselves, your families, and property, from confiscation, looting,[Pg 39]
and other penalties, to which those remaining under arms will be subjected
when the invasion takes place. Secret agents will communicate to me the
names of those who do. Those who do not avail themselves of the terms
now offered may be sure that their property will be confiscated when the
troops arrive. Each man must be prepared to hand over a rifle and 150
rounds of ammunition. The above terms do not apply to officers and members
of the Staats artillery, who may surrender as prisoners of war at any time,
nor to rebels on British territory.

“It is probable that my force will shortly take the offensive. To those
who after this warning defer their submission till too late, I can offer no
promise. They will have only themselves to blame for injury to and loss of
property they and their families may afterwards suffer.”—(Signed) R. S. S.
Baden-Powell, Colonel, Mafeking, December 10.”

If this warning did nothing else, it certainly had the effect of
touching General Snyman in a soft spot, for he at once wrote to his
Burghers in fiery language, expressing his disapproval that such a
communication should have been addressed direct to them. The
idea that “sitting and looking at a place is not the way to take it”
seems to have gone home to him, for he promptly challenged the
besieged to come out and drive him away!

On the same day as his address to the Burghers the Colonel
wrote home to a relative in England, and sent the missive folded in
a quill, which was in its turn rammed into the pipe of a Kaffir:—

“Mafeking, Dec. 12, 1899.

“All going well with me. To-day I have been trying to find
any old Carthusians in the place to have a Carthusian dinner together,
as it is Founder’s Day; but so far, for a wonder, I believe I
am the only one among the odd thousand people here.

“This is our sixtieth day of the siege, and I do believe we’re
beginning to get a little tired of it; but I suppose, like other things,
it will come to an end some day. I have got such an interesting
collection of mementoes of it to bring home. I wonder if Baden[1] is
in the country? What fun if he should come up to relieve me!

“I don’t know if this letter will get through the Boer outposts,
but if it does, I hope it will find you very well and flourishing.”

KIMBERLEY

At Kimberley on November 4 things were still cheerful, though
short commons had begun to be enforced. The Transvaalers
advanced on Kenilworth, and Major Peakman with a squadron of
the Kimberley Light Horse, emerging suddenly from the bush,
gave them a warm reception. Colonel Scott-Turner reinforced
Major Peakman, and two guns were sent to support him against
the enemy’s guns, which at that juncture ceased firing. The[Pg 40]
enemy’s fire with one piece of artillery was on the whole poor, and
fortunately little serious damage was done. Later in the afternoon
came another encounter with the enemy, an encounter which was
kept up till dusk, and in which the enemy sustained considerable
loss. Unfortunately Major Ayliff of the Cape Police, a brave and
efficient officer, was wounded in the neck. The Boers occupied the
Kampersdam mine, some five miles distant, and shelled the Otto
Kopje mine, while the manager, Mr. Chapman, like a Spartan,
watched the destruction of his property and kept Colonel Kekewich
informed as to the damage done. This was luckily small. On
November 6 General Cronje sent a message to Colonel Kekewich
calling on him to surrender, otherwise the town would be bombarded,
and on the following day a force of Free State artillery, supported
by a large commando, began further offensive operations. Captain
Brown, who rode out a short distance to Alexandersfontein, was
captured, and stripped by the Boers because he would reveal nothing
regarding the state of the town.

Plan of Kimberley and Environs

ARMY SERVICE CORPS.
Photo by Gregory & Co., London.

[Pg 41]

According to rough calculation, the opposing forces at Kimberley
early in November stood thus:—

The disparity was not enlivening, but, though provisions were beginning
to run low, pluck was inexhaustible. And with pluck, as
with faith, one may move mountains.

On the 11th of November the bombardment of the town was
commenced with great vigour, the Boers firing from three positions.
Little serious damage was done, owing to the fact that many of the
shells did not burst. In spite of the incessant brawling of artillery,
the perpetual appearance of fog, and a stinging pall of smoke in
which they lived, the inhabitants of the place kept up an air of cheery
unconcern, which naturally they were far from feeling. They also
determined to disquiet the enemy by continual threats of attack
from unexpected quarters. With the spirit of philosophers they
at times made small divertisements for themselves. Once when a
cooking-pot was struck the debris were put up to auction, and some
fun was got out of the brisk competition for the historic relics.
Some of the choicest of these were knocked down—this time not by
guns—for the sum of £2 a piece. The price of a complete shell
was about £5, and portions of one could be purchased at proportionate
rates. Bits and fragments fetched sums varying from
half a crown to half a sovereign!

Nothing further happened, save that a cabdriver was captured,
interrogated, threatened, and finally set free. Commandant Wessels,
who sounded him regarding the dynamite mines round Kimberley,
concluded with the message—a typical specimen of Boer braggadocio—“Tell
Rhodes I shall take Wesselton mine next Tuesday,
and then he must stand whiskies!”

On the 12th Lord Methuen, on whom all had pinned their faith,
arrived with his staff at the Orange River. This was a red-letter day.
The news of British relief so close at hand was most inspiriting, and[Pg 42]
those whose patience was inclined to languish began to take heart.
In Kimberley itself the weather was fine and warm, and as yet little
ill consequence from the shelling was suffered. A peacock was
killed, some buildings damaged, some nervous persons terrified.
The military authorities issued a proclamation ordering that all
people not engaged with the defensive forces should give up arms
and ammunition, a decision that was found necessary to prevent
irresponsible persons from infringing the laws of civilised warfare.

On the 17th of November a force composed of detachments of the
Diamond Fields Horse, Kimberley Light Horse, and Cape Police,
under Colonel Scott Turner, went out with a field-gun and two Maxims
to ascertain the strength of the enemy’s position at Lazaretto Ridge.
The enemy, who were posted on a rocky mound between Carter’s
Farm and the reservoir, opened fire on the advancing men, who,
though some vigorous volleys were returned, were obliged to retire.
Meanwhile the Beaconsfield Town Guard had a tussle with the
foe, and, after much firing on either side, he eventually retired.
As usual, he hid behind rocks and stones, and made himself generally
inaccessible. On the following day some smart engagements ensued,
and so brisk was the volleying from rifles and the booming of field-guns,
that the townspeople believed that some decisive battle must
be taking place. There were, however, few casualties.

All eyes were now fixed on the doings of the Kimberley relief
force that was concentrating at Orange River. A few more weeks,
nay, a few more days, and those patient, cheery prisoners would
march out free to have their reckoning with the Boers. Lord
Methuen, once joined by the Coldstream Guards, Grenadiers, and
Naval Brigade, would be able to push on, and then the first big move
in the war would be made. So they hoped, and with reason, for an
electric searchlight, worked by the Naval Brigade under Colonel
Ernest Rhodes, was signalling to Kimberley, whose searchlights
were plainly visible to the advancing army.

To the dreary imprisoned inhabitants this mode of communication
was vastly exciting. Every day the relief column was
approaching nearer and nearer, and the patient though longing
besieged began to feel as if they were already almost liberated.
They commenced preparing an enthusiastic welcome for the incoming
troops, and ironical farewell salutations were now levied
at the Boers in acknowledgment of shells and of their general
artillery prowess. At that time, coming events—the disasters of
Majesfontein and Colenso—had not cast their shadows before!
Mr. Rhodes was particularly cheery, and took most whimsically to
the information conveyed through Kaffir sources that the enemy
was keenly desirous of exhibiting him in a cage at Bloemfontein
prior to despatching him to Pretoria! The brutal manners and[Pg 43]
customs of the Boers, however, were no subject for joke, as shown
by their treatment of four “boys” who were found and captured
while searching for stray cattle. After killing a couple of them,
the enemy ordered the remaining two, having first flogged them, to
bury the bodies of their comrades, and then go back to Kimberley
and tell their friends how they had been treated.

The Siege of Kimberley: Typical Splinter-proof Shelter of Sand-bags
and Iron Plates
Photo, Hancox, Kimberley

Boer tricks continued to be practised with little success. They
served instead to sharpen the wits of the beleaguered Kimburlians—if
one may be allowed to coin a word which seems to suit them. A
few rifle-shots were fired in the direction of Wright’s Farm for the
purpose of pretending that the long-looked-for relieving force was
approaching, and thus draw out the Diamond Fields Horse; but
the manœuvre was a failure. The Boers consoled themselves by
blowing up two large culverts near the rifle-butts on the line towards
Spyfontein, where the bulk of the Boer forces were then supposed to
be. An official estimate at that date (Nov. 25) placed the number
of shells fired by the Boers during the bombardment at 1000, while
the number of shells fired by the British was 600. Owing to the[Pg 44]
fact that the hostile shells had so often fallen in sandy ground, their
effect had been neutralised. Experiments were made with “home-made”
shells, or rather De Beers-made shells, which exploded to the
general satisfaction of their manufacturers. Some of these were said
to be labelled “With J. C. Rhodes’s compliments,” but this was
doubtless a cheery quip for the entertainment of the lugubrious,
as Colonel Kekewich and the “Colossus” were too good men of
business to waste their ammunition on pleasantries. These two
marvellous people were now working hand in hand, the great business
brain of the one lending support to the military skill of the
other. Mr. Rhodes placed at the disposal of the Colonel—one should
say of his country—the whole resources of De Beers, and worked
without cessation for the welfare of the people, spending without
stint, intellect, energy, and funds on their behalf. When the mines
ceased to work, he still paid full wages to the 2000 white men employed
on them, and laid out large vegetable gardens in the midst
of Kenilworth for the purpose of supplying the inhabitants with green
foods. He organised a mounted force of 600 men, supplying them
himself with horses; and later on he instituted a service of native
runners and scouts, which served to keep the garrison alert as to
the whereabouts of the enemy. Indeed, space does not allow of a
faithful recital of the doings of this public benefactor, who, without
display, made his influence felt in every quarter of the town.

Kimberley, as said, was now in communication by searchlight
with Colonel Rhodes, and was racking its brains how an attempt
might be made from the east side to march out and assist the troops
coming from Belmont. “So near and yet so far” was the general
feeling in regard to these troops, and a burning desire for the handclasp
of the gallant rescuers filled all the brave yet anxious hearts
that for so long had been cut off from the outer world.

On the 25th of November there was unusual activity. The
mounted troops at dawn made a strong reconnaissance in force under
Lieut.-Colonel Scott Turner. The guns were under the charge of
Colonel Chamier of the Royal Artillery. Hostilities commenced
with a hot fire from the Diamond Fields Artillery’s guns under Captain
May, in the direction of Carter’s Farm, Colonel Scott Turner with
his troops marching towards Lazaretto Ridge, where the enemy was
strongly entrenched. This took place at about 4.30 A.M. in the dusk
of the early dawn. By good chance the pickets were found to be
asleep, and Colonel Scott Turner and his forces crept along the ridge
and with marvellous energy rushed the Boer redoubts. On the
instant rifles bristled—shots blazed out. But all was to no purpose;
the Boers had to surrender. They did this in their usual treacherous
fashion, hoisting the white flag while they took stray pot-shots
at their conquerors. This charge was one worthy of record, for few[Pg 45]
of the men who engaged in it had ever used a bayonet in their lives.
So little did they know of the weapon, that they were unable to fix
it in the socket, and consequently rushed upon the enemy, rifle in
one hand and naked blade in the other!

As ill-luck would have it, there was a lack of ammunition, and the
British attack could not be pressed home. Meanwhile the Royal
Engineers on Otto Kopje were protecting the flanks, and a strong
body of infantry with a mounted force, field-guns and Maxims, were
checking the advance of the enemy from Spyfontein. An armoured
train, also, under Lieutenant Webster (North Lancashire Regiment),
was reconnoitring north and south. The train (which was supported
by three half companies of the Beaconsfield Town Guard under
Major Fraser) proceeded south of Kimberley, and held the enemy’s
reinforcements in check as they advanced from Wimbledon. Subsequently,
owing to the brisk firing of the Boer guns, it was decided
to return to Kimberley, where Colonel Scott Turner, in consequence
of his inability to hold the position he had stormed, was forced also to
retire. But during the hot cannonade in which our artillery was
engaged with that of the enemy in all directions save Kenilworth,
this gallant officer was wounded. First his horse was shot under
him, then a bullet pierced the muscle of his shoulder. But he
continued to perform his duties regardless of the inconvenience
caused by his wound. The Boers, as usual, paid no respect to
the ambulance waggon, despite the obvious Red Cross flag which
fluttered over it. They fired at it when they chose, and, as some
reported, used explosive bullets. Eight prisoners were captured,
in addition to two wounded Boers.

The day’s work on the whole was satisfactory, as it ably demonstrated
that there was life in the garrison yet. And this glorious
activity was subsequently recognised in the following order:—

“The officer commanding desires to thank all ranks who took part in
to-day’s engagement for their excellent behaviour. The garrison of Kimberley
have this day shown that they can not only defend their positions, but can sally
out and drive the enemy from their entrenched positions. He deplores the
loss of the brave comrades who have so honourably fallen in the performance
of their duty.”

A second sortie of the same kind was attempted on the 28th of
November, but with more disastrous results. The troops took the
same direction as before—attacked the Boers, beat them back, and
captured their laager and three works. But, on attempting to take
the fourth work, the enemy fought desperately, and Lieut.-Colonel
Scott Turner was killed. When Colonel Scott Turner fell,
Lieutenant Clifford, North Lancashire Regiment, who had more
than once distinguished himself, assumed command of the Imperial[Pg 46]
Mounted Infantry, and, though wounded in the scalp, pluckily
remained on duty till all was over.[2]

There was terrible grief in the garrison at the loss of this
splendid officer, the principal organiser of the Town Guards and
the successful leader of so many skirmishes and sorties throughout
the siege. The following special order was issued:—

“The officer commanding has again to congratulate the troops of the
garrison who engaged the enemy yesterday on their excellent behaviour and
on the capture of the enemy’s laager, with his supplies, ammunition, &c. It
was in every respect a most creditable performance. He has also again to
deplore the loss of many brave men who have fallen at the call of duty. It
was with profound sorrow he learnt that Lieut.-Colonel Scott Turner was
killed while gallantly leading his men against the last stronghold of the enemy’s
defences. In Lieut.-Colonel Scott Turner the garrison of Kimberley loses
a brave and most distinguished comrade, and the officer commanding feels sure
the whole population of Kimberley will join with them in mourning the loss of
this true British officer, to whose skill and activity in the field is so largely due
the complete success of our efforts to keep the enemy at a safe distance from
this town.”

Major M. C. Peakman, an excellent and most dauntless officer,
succeeded to the command of the Kimberley Light Horse in consequence
of Colonel Scott Turner’s death.

Lieutenant Wright of the Kimberley Light Horse was killed,
and among the wounded were Lieutenant W. K. Clifford (1st
Battalion Loyal North Lancashire Regiment), Captain Walleck
(Diamond Fields Horse), and Lieutenant Watson (Kimberley
Light Horse).

On the afternoon of the 29th of November, amid feelings of
universal regret, the remains of Colonel Scott Turner and others
who fell in Tuesday’s sortie were interred. The ceremony, so
common in those days, was yet full of deep pathos. Round the
graves stood Mr. Cecil Rhodes, Dr. Smart, the Mayor of Kimberley,
Mr. and the Hon. Mrs. Rochfort Maguire, and indeed the whole
mournful community of the place. Six volleys were fired over the
graves, six blasts blown on the bugle, and then a last prayer being
said, they left them “alone in their glory.”

[Pg 47]

CHAPTER III

LIFE WITH GENERAL GATACRE

On the 18th of December, General Gatacre withdrew
from Putter’s Kraal, his original advance post, to
Sterkstroom. At this time, in the central sphere,
Generals French and Gatacre, while guarding the
lines of communication, were merely waiting the turn
of events. Owing to a series of successful skirmishes, in which
a patrol under Captain de Montmorency, V.C., was engaged, the
Boers thought discretion the better part of valour, and cleared
out of Dordrecht, with the result that on the 24th of December
Colonel Dalgety, of the Cape Mounted Rifles, with his force
occupied the town. At Bushman’s Hoek were four companies of
the Royal Scots, two 12-pounders, three Maxim guns, about 800
Kaffrarian Rifles, and about thirty Engineers. Owing to scarcity
of water General Gatacre’s force had to be divided, the rest
remaining at Sterkstroom. There water had to be conveyed by
rail, whence, with some difficulty, it was hauled to Bushman’s Hoek
in water-tanks by mules. The railway in these parts, a species of
South African switchback on two narrow rails, rambled up hill and
down dale with engaging ingenuity. Though water was dependent
on the trains, fresh foods were sometimes obtainable. At neighbouring
farms it was possible to purchase butter-milk, grain, and
bread, but to “go a marketing” it was necessary to start in full
marching order, for there was no knowing when the Boers might
block the road, or what nefarious tricks might be taking place. It was
quite impossible to be even with the Dutchmen’s ruses. For instance,
one who knew their ways said that if a Boer horse went lame or
knocked up, twenty chances to one a “loyal” would place a mount
at his disposal, give him bed, “tucker,” forage, &c., while he
would also watch the horizon for the approach of the military, and
should they come the Boer would be a man of peace, without
uniform, arms, or anything else to incriminate him. Therefore, as
may be imagined, life was never too easy-going. The day began
at 3.15 A.M., but night itself, short as it was, was scarcely restful.
The troops slept with their straps on, 150 rounds of ammunition
apiece by their side, in hourly expectation of attack. Niceties of the
toilet were unknown, and gallant fellows with black faces and whiskers
whose acquaintance with water was only weekly, were the rule.[Pg 48]
Some even presented the appearance of opera-house brigands,
having locks so redundant and long, that jocose Tommies suggested
writing home to their sweethearts for the loan of hairpins.

In other respects the daily routine was not unpleasant. Bullocks
and sheep were killed regularly and found their way into the camp-kettle;
bread was still served out, and supplemented with biscuits.
For recreation there was football; and to enliven the spirits there
were four cheery pipers, who at night-time made the welkin ring,
and caused their compatriots to start up and indulge in reels
and Highland flings, and almost to forget that they were in the
land of the enemy.

On the 29th, a pouring day, Captain de Montmorency started
with his scouts and thirty Cape Mounted Rifles in hope of catching
the enemy. But the Boers, under cover of the mist, took
themselves off in the direction of the Barkly East district.

On the 30th of December a hundred of Flannigan’s Squadron of
Brabant’s Horse had a smart brush with an equal number of Dutchmen,
who, however, were promptly reinforced. Thereupon the squadron
retired, but unfortunately Lieutenant Milford Turner and twenty-seven
men were left behind in a donga which none would leave, determining
to remain there and protect Lieutenant Warren of Brabant’s
Horse, who was wounded. To their assistance went Captain Goldsworthy
the next day, accompanied by Captain de Montmorency’s
scouts, 110 men, and four guns. These arrived on the scene so early
as to surprise the Boers, who, after having been kept at bay by the
small force of Colonials, had continued to snipe at them from a distance
throughout the night. A sharp fight now ensued, and, after some
clever manœuvring on both sides, the enemy retired with the loss of
eight killed, while the party in the donga was relieved, and returned
in safety to Dordrecht. The rescue was highly exciting, as the
Boers were finally sent helter-skelter just as our men, worn out
with a night’s anxiety in the nullah, had almost given up hope of
release. As it was, they were restored to their friends in camp amid
a storm of cheers.

Early on the 3rd of January a force was sent out from the
advanced camp at Bushman’s Hoek to meet a hostile horde that
occupied Molteno. The Boers had mounted a big gun on a kopje
in front of Bushman’s Hoek, and from thence commenced to fire at
about eight o’clock. Around the neighbourhood the Boers were
seen to be swarming; therefore the force, composed of Kaffrarian
Rifles, Mounted Infantry of the Berkshire Regiment, and the Cape
Mounted Police, at once engaged them.

MAJOR-GENERAL SIR W. F. GATACRE, K.C.B.
Photo by Elliott & Fry, London.

Two hours later General Gatacre and Staff started from headquarters
with half a battalion of the Royal Scots and the 78th
Battery of Artillery. The Boers from their point of vantage were[Pg 49]
firing from the hill on which was placed their big gun, and they continued
to fire on the Infantry as they advanced over an undulating
plain to right of Cypherghat, whence the population had fled panic-stricken
at the outset of the fight. Fortunately the hostile shells
burst without doing damage, and the troops continued to advance.

The Artillery made a detour to the right, secured a commanding
position on a kopje, and from thence began a ten minutes’ cannonade
which had the effect of silencing the Boers. They withdrew their
gun and retreated, the bulk of their force now advancing, now
retiring, to cover the movement.

At this juncture the Mounted Infantry, which had worked its
way round with a view to outflanking the enemy’s position, came
on the scene only to learn of the withdrawal. This was carried on
without check owing to our lack of cavalry. While General Gatacre’s
force were thus engaged, the enemy was making a determined
attack on 140 men of the Cape Police and 60 men of the Kaffrarian
Rifles at Molteno. They were splendidly repulsed, though the
Police had an unpleasant experience. Five shells dropped into
their camp, but all miraculously escaped injury. The Boers now
retired as mysteriously as they had come, and none knew the exact
reason for their arrival. It was suspected that it was a “slim” trick
to draw General Gatacre into another trap.

A strong force left Sterkstroom before dawn on the morning of
the 8th of January for the dual purpose of reconnoitring in the
direction of Stormberg and taking possession of the meal and flour
from Molteno Mills. The force comprised the Derbyshire Regiment,
the 77th and 79th Field Batteries, 400 mounted men of the
Cape Police and Berkshire Regiment, the Kaffrarian Rifles, and the
Frontier Rifles. The expedition was eminently successful. The
operation of removing the food-stuffs and detaching the vital parts
of the machinery of the mills was carried on under the protection of
the Derbyshire Regiment and the 77th Battery. That of reconnoitring
was undertaken by the force under Colonel Jefferies, R.A.,
and it was discovered that the Boers, who were supposed to have
evacuated Stormberg, were within a two-mile range. A survey of
the Boer position was made by the Engineers, and the troops
returned to camp well satisfied with the result of their labours.

No larger martial moves could be attempted, for General Gatacre
lived in a chronic state of suspended activity for lack of reinforcements.
The Dutchmen had now fallen back from Stormberg,
leaving only a small garrison there, and established themselves
near Burghersdorp. The Boer strength in this district was estimated
at about 4500, a force made up for the most part of Free
Staters and Cape rebels. On the 18th of January General Gatacre
moved some three hundred of all ranks from Bushman’s Hoek[Pg 50]
to Loperberg, and the 74th Field Battery, with one company of
Mounted Infantry, from Sterkstroom to Bushman’s Hoek. The
Boers continued a system of annoyance and petty progress by
destroying railway bridges in the neighbourhood of Steynsburg and
Kromhoogte, about eleven miles from Sterkstroom, and damaging
portions of the line near Stormberg.

Though General Gatacre’s Division was merely the shadow of
the division it should have been, and his strength, such as it was,
materially thinned by reverse, he had at his elbow one man who
was a host in himself. This man was Captain de Montmorency.
He kept the Boers who were holding Stormberg in a simmering
state of excitement and suspense. He and his active party of
scouts were perpetually reconnoitring and skirmishing and emerging
from very tight corners, getting back to camp by what in vulgar
phrase is called “the skin of their teeth.” One of these narrow
escapes was experienced on the 16th January, when Captain de
Montmorency and his men went out from Molteno to gain information
regarding the whereabouts of the enemy. A smart combat
was the result of their efforts, and when they were almost surrounded
Major Heylen with sixty Police came to the rescue, and
the whole force, after some animated firing, returned safely to
Molteno, plus horses, mares, foals, and oxen, which had been captured
from the enemy.

At this time a curious correspondence took place between the
Boer Commandant, General Olivier, and General Gatacre. It was
a species of Dutch tu quoque—the Boer leader thinking to charge
the British one with the same tricks as those in which his countrymen
had been detected.

General Olivier solemnly declared that a store of ammunition
had been found in an abandoned British waggon—a waggon marked
with red crosses and purporting to be an ambulance waggon.
General Gatacre emphatically denied the “slim” impeachment.
He forwarded affidavits sworn by Major Lilly, R.A.M.C., who was
the last man with the waggon before it had to be abandoned, who
stated that if such ammunition had been found it had been subsequently
deposited there. General Gatacre further informed the
Commandant that the practice of taking wives and children in or
near camp and allowing them to run the risks common to belligerents
was contrary to the rules of civilised warfare, and desired
to point out the responsibility he incurred in so doing. He further
remonstrated that a servant who had been on the field of battle
to assist Father Ryan in the succour of the wounded had been
detained in the Boer camp after assurances of his release had been
made. To these remarks and complaints the General received no
reply.[Pg 51]

Fortunately, our wounded who were not captured were doing
well. The ladies at Sterkstroom were particularly devoted, and
visited and cheered the sick daily, and carried them little luxuries
which were mightily appreciated. Though there were not many
losses, sick and disabled were constantly being carried into the
hospital as the result of reconnoitring and scouting expeditions,
which were ceaseless, and had to continue ceaseless, owing to the
inability of the force to take powerful action.

Movements of Gatacre and French.

On the 20th of January Lieutenant Nickerson, R.A.M.C., who
had accompanied the wounded after the misfortune at Stormberg,
arrived in camp. Father Ryan’s servant, on whose account
General Gatacre, as already mentioned, addressed Commandant
Olivier, also returned. They brought interesting news. More
guns had been brought on the scene, and these were served by
German gunners. Septuagenarians and striplings were drafted
into the commandoes, while at Burghersdorp the Town Guard was
composed of lads of about thirteen years of age. This showed that[Pg 52]
the stream of reinforcements was beginning to run dry. Many
youngsters were said to have been sent from their college at Bloemfontein
straight to the front.

Commandant Olivier now took the opportunity to announce that
he meant to retain as prisoners all correspondents who might be
captured. The correspondents were flattered, and began to calculate
whether “Experiences in Pretoria” would make good “copy,” but
finally decided for the liberty of the press.

A little innocent diversion was provided by the Boers during the
night of the 20th. The British were awakened by furious fire,
which was continued for some time. Great consternation prevailed,
till it was afterwards discovered that a scare in the Boer lines had
taken place, and the sound of some stampeding cattle had been
mistaken for the advance of the British! The Boers had at once
flown to arms, fired right and left in the midnight darkness, and as
a natural consequence shot some of their own cattle!

After this, there was silence, like the ominous lull which comes
before a storm. Little puffs and pants of hostility took place around
Sterkstroom and Penhoek, while at Colesberg the Boers were on
guard, with the fear of some impending ill. Important developments
were dreaded. It was known that swarms of troops were moving
from the Cape, and that the positions which had hitherto been held
by the Federals in consequence of the weakness of British forces
in all quarters, would soon be tenable no longer. And the waverers
began to shake in their shoes. They began suddenly to adopt a
helpful attitude towards the forces. The fact was, Lord Roberts
had issued a proclamation encouraging Free Staters and Transvaalers
to desert by the promise that they should be well treated. To the
Colonial rebels he had diplomatically tendered the advice to surrender
before being caught in flagrante delicto.

WITH GENERAL FRENCH

While all eyes were turned in the direction of the Natal force for
the relief of Ladysmith, General French was making things lively
for the Boers. It may be remembered that he left Ladysmith immediately
before Sir George White’s garrison was hemmed in, and
betook himself to the central sphere of war. On the 23rd of
November, with a reconnoitring force consisting of a company
of the Black Watch, some mounted infantry, police, and the New
South Wales Lancers, he went by train towards Arundel, and was
fired on by Boers who were sneaking in the hills. Three of the
party were wounded, but the rest drove the enemy off. The rails
had been lifted just in front of the scene of the fight. From
this time activities of the same kind took place daily, the General
devoting his energies to reconnoitring east and west of his position,[Pg 53]
keeping the enemy from massing at any given point, and forcing
them to remain on the qui vive in perpetual expectation of attack.

Scouting at this time was carried on to the extent of a fine art.
Never a day was devoid of excitement. “We start out before
dawn, and get back—well, when we can!” This was the pithy
description of a youngster who enjoyed some thrilling moments.
The following sketch of the experiences of a New Zealander show
how one and all willingly risked their lives in the service of their
country:—

“I was under fire for the first time on my birthday (Dec. 7),
when a section of us (four men) were sent out as a mark for any
Boers to shoot at. We rode to the foot of a kopje and left one of
us in charge of the four horses. Another chap and I climbed to the
top. Puff! bang went three shells from their Long Tom and a perfect
fusillade of bullets. It is marvellous how we escaped. We were
to report as soon as we were fired at, so I volunteered as galloper to
go back to our lines to report. I did a quick time over that two
miles of veldt, bullets missing me all the time. I reported, and was
told to go back and withdraw the men, which I did. Afterwards we
took eight men, and under cover kept up a steady fire for five hours.
I was horribly tired, as I had been in the saddle eighteen hours the
previous day. My mate was fresh—we were planted behind stones
in pairs—and while he kept up the firing I slumbered, strange as it
may seem. There are thousands of troops in the camp. General
French, in command of this particular division, has complimented
us on many occasions on our coolness under fire and our horsemanship.
He said we could gallop across country where English cavalry
could only walk. He told us after a skirmish we had with the enemy
that he couldn’t express in words his admiration of us, that we were
the best scouts he had ever employed, and that we always brought
in something, either prisoners, horses, sheep, cattle, or valuable information—which
latter is entirely true. During the slack time our
chaps are busy breaking in remounts for the English cavalry.
Horses die like flies here, and Cape ponies are substituted.”

Numerous and ingenious tricks were practised on the Boers,
many of them doubtless owing their origin to the active and fertile
brains of General French and Colonel Baden-Powell, the author
of the “Manual on Scouting.” One of these was to take in
the enemy’s scouts by tethering ostriches to bushes on the hills.
The presence of the birds naturally gave to the place an air of
desolation, and satisfied the enemy that the ground was unoccupied.
In Colonel Baden-Powell’s opinion fine scouting is a true
bit of hero-work, and his description of the “sport” in his own
words serves to show of what stuff our Colonial scouts were made.
He says: “It is comparatively easy for a man in the heat and ex[Pg 54]citement
of battle, where every one is striving to be first, to dash out
before the rest and do some gallant deed; but it is another thing for
a man to take his life in his hand to carry out some extra dangerous
bit of scouting on his own account, where there is no one by to
applaud, and it might be just as easy for him to go back; that is a
true bit of hero’s work, and yet it is what a scout does continually as
‘all in the day’s work.’ The British scout has, too, to be good
beyond all nationalities in every branch of his art, because he is
called upon not only to act against civilised enemies in civilised
countries like France and Germany, but he has also to take on the
crafty Afghan in his mountains, or the fierce Zulu in the open South
African towns, the Burmese in his forests, the Soudanese on the
Egyptian desert, all requiring different methods of working, but their
efficiency depending in every case on the same factor—the pluck and
ability of the scout himself. To be successful as a scout you must
have plenty of what Americans call ‘jump’ and ‘push,’ ‘jump’ being
alertness, wideawakeness, and readiness to seize your opportunity,
‘push’ being a never-say-die feeling. When in doubt as to whether
to go on or to go back, think of that and of the Zulu saying, ‘If we go
forward we die, if we go backward we die; better go forward and
die.’ Scouting is like a game of football. You are selected as a
forward player. Play the game; play that your side may win.
Don’t think of your own glorification or your own risks—your side
are backing you up. Football is a good game, but better than it,
better than any other game, is that of man-hunting.” Of this game,
our troops, particularly in the disaffected regions of Cape Colony,
were beginning to have their fill.

On the 8th of December Colonel Porter, with the 5th Dragoon
Guards and Mounted Infantry, arrived at Arundel from Naauwpoort,
for the purpose of making a reconnaissance and locating the enemy
and discovering his strength. The force detrained some four miles
outside the town and advanced across the plain, the Dragoons to left
and right, the Mounted Infantry, consisting of New Zealanders and
Australians, in the centre slightly in the rear. The Boers in the
surrounding kopjes, seeing their danger, took themselves off with
great rapidity to another ridge three miles to the north. This
position was located before nightfall. At daybreak four companies
of Mounted Infantry were posted on a hill two miles north of
Arundel, while a troop of Dragoons reconnoitred the town and
found it evacuated by the enemy. The advance was then resumed.
At 8 A.M. the troops reached Maaiboschlaagte, and spied the enemy
on the hills near Rensburg’s Farm. The Boers were busy dragging
a huge gun up the hill. Having no artillery, the flanking movement
on the left was discontinued, but the Dragoons on the right, who
were three miles in advance of the remainder of the force, crossed[Pg 55]
the plain and outflanked the enemy. The crackling of muskets
followed, and soon after the booming of two guns. The New South
Wales Lancers now reinforced the first line, and though for many
hours their “baptism of fire” was prolonged, they suffered the only
loss of the day—the loss of a horse. The operations were successful,
and the strength of the enemy was found to number about 2000.
The occupation of this region by our troops was considered of great
strategical importance, as it formed a convenient advance base for
further operations. The town is situated some twelve miles from Colesberg,
and is in a fashion a natural fortress. It consists of rugged
hills surrounding flats, and is provided with refreshing water springs.

On the 12th of December a patrol under Lieutenant Collins was
fiercely fired upon; a sergeant of the Carabineers was killed and a
private was reported missing. This happened as they were turning
away from a farm at Jasfontein belonging to Field-Cornet Geldenhuis,
with whom they had had an interview. The proprietor received
his just deserts, for later on two squadrons of Carabineers
with two guns and a company of Mounted Infantry were sent out to
shell the farm, which duty was accomplished with zest and thoroughness.
General French’s report of the affair is too interesting to be
omitted. He said:—

“I wish particularly to bring to notice the excellent conduct and bearing of
the New Zealand Mounted Rifles, commanded by Major A. W. Robin, on one
of these occasions.

“On 18th December I took them out with a battery of Horse Artillery to
reconnoitre round the enemy’s left flank, and determined to dislodge him from
a farm called Jasfontein lying on his left rear. The guns shelled the farm, and
the New Zealand Mounted Rifles then gained possession of it. But the enemy
very suddenly brought up strong reinforcements and pressed on us with his
Artillery. Our Artillery had been left some way behind to avoid this latter
fire, and I had to send back some distance for its support, during which time
we were exposed to a heavy musketry fire from the surrounding hills. The
conduct of the New Zealanders was admirable in thus maintaining a difficult
position till the Artillery caused the enemy to retire.”

Early on the morning of the 13th patrols were again fired upon,
this time from Platberg, a kopje on the fringe of Colesberg Commonage.
About 4 A.M., in the dusk of early dawn, the Dutchmen,
some 1800 strong, were found to be leaving their position and
advancing in the direction of Naauwpoort. Thereupon Colonel
Porter, with Carabineers, Inniskillings, 10th Hussars, and four
guns of the R.H.A., moved eastwards. What Mr. Gilbert describes
as “a short sharp shock” followed, and the enemy’s guns,
after firing three shots, were silenced. Our cavalry headed the
enemy off, and soon after 2 P.M. the bulk of his forces retired to
their former position. Vaalkop was held by one squadron of cavalry
and two guns for the rest of the day. Some Boers remained at[Pg 56]
Talboschlaagte, and some later on occupied Kuilfontein Farm, but
were driven out by British shells with loss of forty killed and
wounded. Our own losses during two days’ sharp work amounted
to one man killed. Captain Moseley (Inniskillings) was slightly
wounded, and four men also received injuries.

On the same date Colonel Miles reported from Orange River
an unlucky incident. Part of the Mounted Infantry under Captain
Bradshaw and the Guides under Lieutenant Macfarlane patrolled
in the direction of Kamak and Zoutpansdrift, ten miles east of
Orange River, for the purpose of reconnoitring and reporting the
strength of the enemy. The Boers were said to be holding the
drift, and near there, somewhat suddenly, a strong party of them
appeared. The Mounted Infantry attacked, and a brisk engagement
followed, with the result that the enemy decamped to Geemansberg.
Unfortunately, for this smart piece of work Captain Bradshaw paid
with his life; Lieutenant Greyson (Buffs) was wounded, three men
were killed, and seven wounded. Captain Bradshaw was an
energetic and valuable officer, and his loss was deeply deplored.

To return to General French. Hard days of work in a broiling
sun with little to show for it were the lot of those around Naauwpoort
at this time. On the morning of the 15th two guns of the Horse
Artillery, going eastward across the veldt from Vaalkop, shelled a
Boer waggon which had been espied winding along the road. It
was presumably from Colesberg, and laden with supplies for the
artillery of the enemy. Several shells were at once launched, but
they failed to strike it. The artillery then tried a new position,
and were “sniped” at by odd sharpshooters from the hills. Finally
a “Long Tom” was brought by the Boers to bear on the situation,
and then the artillery, pursued by shells, returned to Vaalkop.

Boer aggression continued. On the 16th the enemy took up a
position on a hill near Kannaksolam and sniped at the British
patrols when they went to water their horses. The Dutchmen
were splendidly concealed, so splendidly that it was impossible
for the patrols to return the fire. The New Zealanders were also
fired upon, and though five scouts lay for hours on the hill watching
the Boers’ hiding-place, not one of the foe showed his nose
out of cover. At last, in the afternoon, Captain Jackson, with
eight Carabineers on patrol, caught sight of the enemy peeping
from his lair, and suddenly found himself in the midst of a volley.
Captain Jackson was shot in the spine and instantly killed, the
other members of the party and the riderless horse fleeing amid
a storm of bullets. On the morning of the 18th the remains of
the gallant officer were buried at Naauwpoort with military
honours. The enemy’s position was shelled at daybreak by ten guns.

A RECONNAISSANCE IN FORCE WITH GENERAL FRENCH’S CAVALRY NEAR COLESBERG.
Drawing by R. Caton Woodville.

On the same day General French made a successful reconnais[Pg 57]sance
with a battery of Horse Artillery and the New Zealand Rifles.
The New Zealanders had some exciting experiences. Major Lee and
his men went forth to draw the fire of the Boers, and unfortunately,
instead of drawing the shell of the enemy they drew the shot, and
found themselves all at once in a very warm corner indeed. They
were rapidly hemmed in on three sides, and stood a very good
chance of being cut off. But pluck carried the day, and though all
their accoutrements, saddles, and water-bottles showed visible signs
of the hurricane of destruction through which they had ridden, they
arrived in camp safe and sound, much to the satisfaction of the
General, who issued an order complimenting them on the success of
their reconnaissance.

Major Lee, who was in command of the New Zealanders at
Arundel, was reported to be a splendid fellow—not the typical
dashing officer by any means, but what was described as a regular
paterfamilias of somewhat aldermanic proportions. He was hale,
hearty, and beaming, and withal a man of coolness and courage.
The qualities possessed by this officer were said to be shared by
most of his men, who, though of the rough and ready stamp, were
true chips of the old British block.

Mr. Gifford Hall was most enthusiastic about Colonials all and
sundry, and, knowing their excellence and Great Britain’s needs, delivered
himself of words of wisdom which are worthy of repetition:—

“Ex-frontier cavalryman myself, with further experience as cowboy in both
the United States and North-west Canada, and also as stockrider in Australia,
I have never for a moment doubted that in the raising of an irregular Anglo-Boer
force lay the solution of England’s problem, ‘How to successfully cope
with the enemy.’ Sans standard of physique, sans much orthodox training,
sans everything but virility, inherent horsemanship, inherent wild-land craft,
mounted on his own pony—bronco of Canada or brumbie of Australia—the
Canadian ranche hand, the Australian stockrider, shearer, station rouseabout,
or the ‘cull’ of all lands Anglicised might easily become the quintessence of a
useful and operative force against a semi-guerilla enemy. A pair of cord
breeches, a couple of shirts, his big hat, and a cartridge-filled belt, Winchester
carbine, a pony of the sort that can be run to a white sweat, and staggering,
tremble, and then be kicked out to nuzzle for grass or die—that’s what your
man wants. The pants and shirts will be better than he has worn for years;
the gun he has ‘shot straight’ with ever since he first handled his ‘daddy’s’
muzzle-loader; and the ‘hoss,’ why each is of the other, horse and man, each
apart, a thing inept. Orthodoxy against the Boers in military operations
doesn’t wash. Aldershot-cum-Sandhurst-cum-Soudan-cum-Further-India and
War-Office tactics fall flat. The Boer is here, there, and everywhere, not to
be followed by ‘crushing forces’—only to be checked and turned and tracked
and harried and hustled by a brother Boer. There is scarce a Canadian ranche
hand but owns a pony of bronco breed, scarce an Australian station hand of
any decent calibre but owns or can procure a tough and serviceable semi-‘brumbie’
mount. And will these men volunteer? Yes, plenty of them, and
those that won’t can’t. Surely Empire saved or gained is worth their worth to[Pg 58]
the Motherland they fight for. Let her hire them. Transportation and time?
The Boer war is not over yet, and England’s pocket is deep. To-day she
fights for her life, for her honour, and win she must. Arm them and saddle
them, men of the wild-lands and prairies. Work them van, flank, and rear.
This folly of ‘standard’ physique and ‘training’—to the winds with it. The
theory of weight and height for effective fighting is exploded. Heart, eye, and
seat, and wild-land inherent tact make up for it. Five-feet-six can ride and
shoot and fight or die as well as six-feet-two. We wild-landers have proven it
over and over again. Even when the war is over, and our regulars and reserves
must return, make these men into protective police for a while, officered not by
orthodoxy but by knowledge and experience. They will ‘learn the country.’
They will evolve scouts from amongst them who shall make no mistakes.
They will give to England what she needs in times like these—to come again
or not. Your yeomanry won’t do the trick; nor your oat-fed kharki-clad higher
Colonials either. ’Tis your Anglo-Boer, cowboy, stockrider, shearer, rouseabout,
cull, given his way and a cause—yes, he and his scrub-fed mongrel
mount and ‘gun.’”

These expressions of opinion almost amounted to a prophecy, for
very shortly the Canadian ranche hands, the Australian stockriders,
the hardy New Zealanders, and the “higher” Colonials—as Mr. Hall
styled them—taught us lessons which we were swift enough to follow.

At Christmas the troops fared well, and contributions of a
homely and delectable kind were supplied to make the season
pleasurable. The inhabitants of Naauwpoort showed their appreciation
of Mr. Thomas Atkins in many tangible ways, notably by
providing him with appetising refreshments as he arrived by rail. Of
course, there was a run on the telegraph office. Christmas greetings
went pouring out and came pouring in, while the mail-bags
swelled with a plethora of seasonable blandishments. At Arundel
Colonel Fisher and the officers of the 10th Hussars endeavoured to
forward Christmas greetings to the Colonel of the Regiment, His
Royal Highness the Prince of Wales, but for some unexplained
reason the felicitation was not allowed to go beyond the vigilant eye
of the censor.

The great attraction of Christmas, and its accompaniment the
New Year, was the expectation of a gift from Queen Victoria,
which was specially prepared according to the order of the Sovereign
herself. It was to take the form of a tin of chocolate, and was to be
presented to every soldier on service in South Africa. The box
was specially designed, and adorned with the regal monogram.
This unique gift, in order to make it the more valuable as a trophy
or a family relic, was manufactured only of the exact number required
for presentation to each individual serving at the front.

Naauwpoort enlivened itself with sports, and though the weather
was almost tropical, the activity served to compensate for the
absence of the mirth of Merrie England. At this time the Boers
were approaching nearer the British camp. There was a three[Pg 59]
days’ truce, it is true, but their positions were only six miles from our
troops, and they were warned that a nearer approach would mean
prompt action by the guns.

The daily routine went on somewhat monotonously—the grooming,
watering, and exercising of horses; drilling, exercising the mules
of ambulance and transport waggons; unloading the food supplies,
cooking them—occupations which afforded work in plenty, but the
real business of warfare was suspended. Some of the officers made
an effort to get up hunting parties, and succeeded in bagging a few
springbuck, but their expeditions were fraught with even more risk to
themselves than to their quarry. For instance, in one case, while two
gallant Nimrods were in the act of stalking a splendid springbuck,
their chargers made off. They suddenly found themselves almost
surrounded by Boers, and an animated chase followed. Luckily
the carcass of the springbuck, which was left behind, was too great
a prize to be parted with, and the enemy captured it in preference
to the huntsmen!

At this time there was great consternation in camp, as two
cavalry officers were taken prisoners. It subsequently transpired
that the officers, Lieutenant Till (Carabineers) and Lieutenant
Hedger (attached to the 10th Hussars), were captured through an
unfortunate accident. They mistook the Boers for New Zealanders,
and therefore were unprepared to offer resistance. On discovering
their error they made a desperate attempt to escape, but were
overpowered.

The Colonials afterwards discarded their picturesque hats and
took to helmets. Owing to the resemblance of their headgear to
that of the Boers, some British pickets had mistaken them for the
enemy and fired on them.

On the 29th the enemy fell back on Colesberg, and there with
his small force General French proceeded to tackle him. “So near
and yet so far” must have been repeated many times by both
Generals French and Gatacre when each failed to accomplish
some clever moves for want of the necessary reinforcements. In
the ordinary course of things, from Naauwpoort to Sterkstroom was
an easy three-hours journey by rail, but now, with the barrier of
the Boers at Stormberg—the junction between the East London and
Port Elizabeth systems—it was necessary to travel, if by rail, via
Port Elizabeth, thus making a three-days instead of a three-hours
trip. And railway travelling was by no means a safe and enjoyable
exercise. True, the lines of communication were protected by some
eleven hundred Volunteers, but as martial law had not been proclaimed
south of Naauwpoort, and disloyalty was here the rule and
not the exception, it was quite on the cards that at any moment
culverts would be found blown up and rails twisted.

[Pg 60]

CHAPTER IV

THE COLONIALS AT BELMONT

On Christmas Day Lieut.-Colonel Pilcher, formerly of the
Northumberland Fusiliers, late of the Bedfordshire
Regiment, arrived at Belmont and took command of
the troops. The Station Staff now consisted of Colonel
Pilcher; Major Bayly, Major MacDougall, and Major
Dennison. The garrison was soon strengthened by two companies
of the 2nd Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry under Major
Ashby. A general state of high polish was begun, and the Canadians,
ever active and on the alert, came in for some excellent training,
which they were not slow to profit by. Owing to the insecure state
of the neighbourhood, it was put in a fair state of defence. Stone
sconces were built on the kopjes; earthwork trenches were built at
the station and elsewhere; and a series of alarm drills was carried
on, in order to enable all concerned to take up their especial posts
at a moment’s notice. For instance, at an appointed hour an alarm
on the bugles would wake the echoes. The men would rush to
arms; every company, previously instructed, would fall in on its own
private parade ground, and then set out at the double for its post.
Celerity without fluster was the motto of the movement. When all
were posted, some in trenches a mile off, others three or four hundred
yards away, the Colonel would proceed to make such disposition
of his troops as the imagined enemy might impose. For instance,
he would picture the attack coming from the north-east and march
some of his force in the direction of the assumed attack, covering
it with a strong line of skirmishers, while other troops in springless
four-wheeled buck waggons were sent to their support. The
movement would be only sufficiently developed to give the men an
intelligent appreciation of what might be required of them, and
certainly nothing could exceed the promptness and alacrity with
which the troops threw themselves into their military rehearsals.
The Canadians especially distinguished themselves by their zest and
acuteness, and in all the bogus engagements—the attack drill—earned
the praise of the commander. The following is a copy of a regimental
order: “The officer commanding the Royal Canadian Regiment
is desired by the officer commanding the troops at this station to
express his satisfaction with the intelligent and quiet way in which
this morning’s work was carried out by the officers, non-com[Pg 61]missioned
officers, and men of the Royal Canadian Regiment.”
The Colonel particularly appreciated the manner in which the men
avoided “bunching,” the most fatal error that can be made by troops
in modern warfare of the kind in hand.

At the end of the year more Australians arrived. These
troops had been stationed for a short time at the Orange River,
getting their horses into condition after a six weeks’ voyage. From
thence they moved on to Belmont. The two companies of Queensland’s
Mounted Infantry found their green tents awaiting them, and
a hearty welcome. The men, a hardy and stalwart set, tall and
comely to look on, were well fitted in their kharki uniform, which
showed no signs of relationship to the slouching apparel peculiar to
hastily rigged-out troops. Their jackets, cord breeches, felt hats
looped up at the side with a tuft of feathers of the emu, gave them
a picturesque as well as workmanlike air. But their leggings were
dangerously dark, and scarcely as suited to sand or morass—the
ground was either one thing or the other—as the familiar puttees.
These useful articles had now been assumed by the Canadians instead
of their shrunken or loosely flapping duck trousers. The effect
was infinitely more dapper, becoming to the figure, and serviceable
for hard wear. The Queenslanders and Canadians at once fraternised,
the older arrivals making the new comers welcome by inviting
them to drinks and breakfast, and generally “showing them around.”
The bond of union was cemented by the fact that the officer in
command of the Queenslanders, Colonel Ricardo, was an old Royal
Canadian Artillery officer.

COLONEL PILCHER’S RAID

New Year’s Day was a great occasion for the Colonial troops.
They had been burning with impatience to come in touch with the
enemy, and till now no opportunity had been afforded for testing
their prowess in the field. At midday on the 31st of December a
force under Colonel Pilcher started off from Belmont. The force
consisted of 200 Queenslanders, commanded by Colonel Ricardo;
100 Canadians, Toronto Company, with two guns; and a horse
battery under Major de Rougemont; 30 Mounted Infantry under
Lieutenant Ryan (Munster Fusiliers); the New South Wales Ambulance,
under Surgeon-Major Dodds; and 200 Cornwall Light
Infantry. These left Belmont and proceeded westward. Twenty
miles were covered before sunset, and the force encamped at
Cook’s Farm. In this region, on a string of kopjes, a Boer
laager was reported to be, and this—it was decided—must be
removed.

Map Illustrating Colonel Pilcher’s Raid.
Scale 9 miles = 1 inch.
[Transcribers’ note: For ease of reference, the black line beneath the
image would be approximately one inch in length in the original.]

Colonel Pilcher’s programme, however, was not divulged. Great[Pg 62]
caution was preserved, as the country was swarming with native
spies, and all movements of the troops were watched and reported
to the enemy. The Colonel therefore very adroitly arranged that no
person should have a chance of reporting his movements, and caused
a watch to be kept on all the natives, and these during the night
were shut in their huts to prevent any from escaping and communicating
the intention of the troops. The vigilance was certainly well
rewarded. At daybreak the force steadily marched out, creating as
little dust as possible, and took up a position at a place some fifteen
miles off, called Sunnyside. Here the enemy’s laager was reported
to be situated. It was posted on two connected kopjes to north and
south, and towards these kopjes the troops advanced. When within
a distance of some four miles the troops halted. Major de Rougemont
with two guns under Lieutenant Atkinson, Captain Barker with
the Toronto Company of Canadians, and Lieutenants Ryan and
Smith with the Mounted Infantry were ordered in the direction of
the enemy’s laager to the north; while Colonel Pilcher with Colonel
Ricardo and the Queenslanders, A Company under Captain Chaucer,
and B Company under Captain Pinnock, advanced from the south.
Patrols were sent to the east. All was done with great quietness
and precision, and the Boer tactics so closely imitated that the enemy[Pg 63]
were unconscious of the arrival of the British till the troops were upon
them. Major Rougemont’s force made use of all the existing cover,
which luckily was sufficient to screen both man and horse, and in a
very short time had discovered some excellent ground which gave on
to the Boer position. The enemy’s laager was ensconced in a nest of
trees, at the base of a range of kopjes commanded by a convenient
ridge. This ridge—reported by the Mounted Infantry to be clear of
the enemy—with great promptness was practically seized and occupied
before the Boers had sufficiently gathered themselves together to contest
the position. The guns were advanced at a trot, and unlimbered
within 1500 yards of the laager, into which two shells were neatly
plumped, with a stupendous detonation that startled the whole surrounding
neighbourhood. Up scrambled the Boers, streaming and
bounding along the sides of the kopje like stampeded goats, and
commencing to fire with all their might. Upon our guns and gunners
came a torrent of lead fierce and sustained. Two Maxims under
Captain Bell now prepared to give tongue from the right, and then
the Toronto Company was ordered to double into action. They
leapt to the word. With a gasp of relief they cried, “At last!” and
were off. When within 1000 yards of the position their rifles came
into play. A hurricane of bullets met the enemy’s fire: met it, continued
fiercely—and finally subdued it.

While the guns under Lieutenant Atkinson were booming and
banging, the Mounted Infantry, ably led by Lieutenant Ryan, were
working their way along the right, and hunting the enemy from a
concealed position among the scrub. At midday Colonel Pilcher
and the Queenslanders were steadily nearing the position from three
separate directions. They approached under cover, cautious as tigers
and nimble as cats, finally firing, and returning the fire, but only
when they caught glimpses of the enemy. Then they blazed away
to good purpose, and continued to approach nearer and ever nearer,
till the enemy, in view of the persistent and deadly advance, shrank
from his ground, and sulkily retired. The dexterity of the Queenslanders
was remarkable; they stalked the enemy as a sportsman
would stalk a deer, criticising their own fire and the fire of the foe
with workmanlike coolness and interest. The success of these
tactics was complete. The laager was captured, and with it forty
ill-kempt, surly prisoners. Lieutenant Adie, who was with a patrol of
four men, came suddenly on a number of the enemy, and was
wounded in two places, but he was saved and carried off by two
plucky fellows, Butler and Rose, who came to his rescue. The latter
was wounded, and his horse was killed. Another dashing Queenslander,
Victor Jones, was shot through the heart, and Macleod,
an equally brave comrade, after many lucky escapes, while
advancing with Colonel Pilcher’s force, was shot through the spine.[Pg 64]
While these heroic and tragic doings were taking place, General
Babington with a mounted force had been working hard, his operations
having been arranged for the purpose of co-operating with
Colonel Pilcher, and distracting the enemy’s attention from the
north. These manœuvres had the desired effect, and the day’s work,
apart from its pathetic side, was accounted a glorious success. So
cleverly had the proceedings been contrived, and so ingeniously
were the orders interpreted by one and all, that the Boers were completely
nonplussed. There was a hurried stampede, and the Federals
bolted, leaving their laager with all its luxuries, its boiling soup, its
gin and water bottles, &c., at the mercy of the invaders.

COLONEL PILCHER’S ATTACK ON SUNNYSIDE KOPJE—CANADIAN AND AUSTRALIAN CONTINGENTS RECEIVE THEIR “BAPTISM OF FIRE.”

Drawing by H. C. Seppings Wright from Sketch by Fred. Villiers.

A vivid description of the Boer camp was given by Mr. Frederick
Hamilton of the Toronto Globe, who accompanied the Canadians.

“Fourteen ancient tents, their blankets, kettles, and camp utensils, tossed
about in wild confusion. Three long waggons of the type in which the voortrekkers
voyaged the veldt, a team of a dozen magnificent oxen, a big water-cart
which we eyed greedily, a Kaffir wattled hut, its floor piled high with odds
and ends of clothing and valuables, its doorway marked by a shell-smash; the
rocky kopje-side behind, a flat plain dotted with shaggy, bushlike trees in front—such
was the Boer laager. Prisoners came from here and there, over a
score from the kopje-top, more from this corner and that of the field, and were
taken to the hut. Within it and around its door they squatted, a silent
downcast crew; what a mess they had made of their affairs! Perhaps they
were not so despondent as we thought, for one man as he sat in the guarded
group pointed out a rifle which one of the victors was carrying, and claimed
it as his own—a piece of cheek which staggered our men. The prisoners
claimed only part of our attention; with eager curiosity the camp was ransacked.
At last we had our hands upon these Boers: what manner of men
were they, and how did they live? Poorly enough, I should say; the camp
must have been densely crowded with the motley gathering, and we could see
the odd admixture of practical barbarism with occasional contact with civilisation,
as when good suits of clothes lay side by side with repulsive-looking
strips of biltong. We felt that all this was ours, ours by right of battle, ours
by virtue of victory. Perhaps we were wrong, perhaps the confiscated property
of rebels should fall to the Crown, but as long as men go to war so
long will victors walk through the camp of the vanquished with just that feeling
swelling through their veins. Something else lay heavy upon us—thirst.
It raged through us. The yellow pool where the veldt cut into the kopje face
filled our water-bottles, and we drank and drank. The foul dregs of the Boers’
water-cart were drained with joy. As the sun was setting our own water-cart
with more wholesome water drove up, and we drank and drank again. As
our fires were lighted, what receptacles could be found were filled and the muddy
fluid boiled. Our transport waggons were miles away, and for tea or coffee we
were dependent on what we found in the Boer waggons. I remember drinking
a cup of hot water and finding it most refreshing. Food was foraged. One
section of our men found a sheep’s carcass hanging up under a tree, slaughtered
by the rebels before our shell changed the tenor of their day. Some had
hardtack or army rations in their haversacks. Here and there they picked up
enough to make up a meal, not especially plentiful, and very scrappy, but satisfying.
Indeed a most peculiar thing about the whole affair was the great[Pg 65]
amount of work we managed to do on a very small amount of food. The
shadows of the evening were falling as we finished our meal, sent out the
necessary pickets, and prepared for rest.”

Later came the death of poor Macleod the Queenslander, whose
wound had been mortal. As the Queenslanders had early moved
on to Rooi Pan (a farmhouse across the veldt where rebels were
suspected to be in hiding), the Canadians took upon themselves
the duty of conducting the sad ceremonies of burial. A grave
was dug and a New Testament found. Then the Canadians slowly
bore to its last resting-place the remains of the heroic young Colonial
who had lost his life in the service of the mother country. Major
Bayly, the Staff Officer of the expedition, read a few selections
from Corinthians over the body, after which it was consigned to
the heart of the veldt. A rude cross bearing his name and corps
was placed to mark the spot, and written thereon was also the
intimation that it was “Erected by his Queensland and Canadian
comrades.” The noble young fellow Victor Jones secured less
formal burial, though his loss was as deeply regretted. On the
following day two of his comrades from Rooi Pan started off in
search of his body, and having found it, buried it without ceremony
or rite, but with the keenest feelings of sorrow.

On this day, the 2nd of January, the work of destruction of Boer
effects was begun. Soon after dawn a huge bonfire was made under
such waggons and ammunition of the foe as could not be utilised,
and as the troops marched out they were saluted by the appalling
uproar of the exploding cartridges. The procession, as it moved on
its way to Rooi Pan, a distance of some four or six miles, presented a
somewhat mediæval aspect in spite of symbols of modernity—magazine
rifles and machine guns. In front was the wide expanse of
grassy veldt; behind, the curling blue smoke from the burning
wreckage of the camp. Along the road came the heavy springless
waggons piled high with booty, their negro drivers flourishing
their long whips and repeating their vociferous bark of “Eigh” to
encourage the small, contumacious mules. With them marched the
bronzed, picturesque-looking army with its train of captives in the
rear, an unkempt, dilapidated crew—a strange contrast to the lively
and robust Canadians, who, rejoiced at their yesterday’s feat, were
singing as they tramped along. Very curious was it to hear, instead
of the familiar British airs our soldiers love, the Niagara camp-song
with its Hallelujah chorus, and the popular “The Maple Leaf”
proceeding from the brawny throats of these brother soldiers of
the Queen. Their joy and their triumph was complete, and with
a good night’s rest and the beautiful morning air to refresh them,
their spirits were effervescent in the extreme.

At Rooi Pan there was a halt for half-an-hour, during which[Pg 66]
Colonel Pilcher took the opportunity to address his force, and convey
to them congratulations on the recent fight which had been
forwarded by General Wood, commanding at the Orange River.
Water-bottles were then filled from the clear pond in the farm of one
of the prisoners, and soon, the sun growing momentarily hotter, the
party advanced. This time their route lay over dust ankle-deep in
places, dust which rose up in clouds and came down into eyes and ears
and throats, and settled itself in hot cakes and rings on hair and
beards and necks. But presently, after a few miles, the state of
things was improved. Government roads stretched a smooth highway
in front, and kopjes—the dangerous kopjes that afforded such
comfortable hiding-places for the wily foe—grew fewer and farther
between. There was now comparative comfort, for there was little
fear of encounter with the enemy in the open.

The journey was continued without event. There was no sign
of opposition, and about three o’clock in the afternoon, as they neared
their destination, a message came in, “Nothing to be seen in Douglas
but Union Jacks and red ensigns.” This was a fact, and Colonel
Pilcher and his troops very soon occupied the town. Never was there
a more enthusiastic demonstration: the loyal inhabitants cheered to
the echo; some almost wept at the arrival of their deliverers.

This town is situated below the junction of the Modder and Vaal
Rivers, and is of some importance. Here the long-suffering loyalists
had remained, ever since the commencement of hostilities, in anxious
expectation, awaiting the arrival of the British troops. Naturally
the frenzy of their delight knew no bounds, particularly when it was
found how completely the rebels had dispersed. Fourteen tents,
three waggons, an immense store of rifles and ammunition, saddles,
forage, equipment, and many incriminating letters were seized. On
some of the envelopes were stamped “On Her Majesty’s Service,”
showing that these had been used by the newly appointed Landrost
of Douglas in the absence of an official Free State superscription.

The joy of the loyalists was of short duration. In the afternoon
Colonel Pilcher broke to them the terrible news. He stated that, for
military reasons, his force would be obliged to leave on the morrow.
Consternation prevailed. The leading members of the community
explained that, if deserted, their lives would not be worth a moment’s
purchase. It was impossible to remain where they were and await
the return of the enemy, consequently Colonel Pilcher ordered all
who wished to leave to be ready by six the next morning, and promised
them safe conduct to Belmont. Thereupon a scene of great
animation ensued. An immense exodus was actively arranged.
Vehicles of all kinds, sizes, and shapes were got ready, while the
women and babies—such as overflowed the transport accommodation—were
taken charge of by the gallant Canadians. These marched[Pg 67]
forth singing, to keep up the spirits of the community, and finally,
when the wearisome end of the journey seemed never to be reached,
some of the noble fellows, although worn out with a long spell of
active work, and suffering from sore feet, carried the babies, and
thus relieved the women of the fatigue of the march. The cortège
left Douglas at eight o’clock on the morning of the 3rd, and reached
Dover Farm at two o’clock. With the refugees were sent
forward the captured rebels. These before their departure were
paraded, and Colonel Pilcher enjoined those who were Free
Staters or Transvaalers to step from the ranks, as they would be
treated as prisoners of war. The rebels who had taken up arms
against their Queen would suffer different treatment. No one
stepped forward, and it was evident that either there were no Boers
among the number, or they mistrusted the assurances of Colonel
Pilcher, and preferred to meet their fate en bloc. (They were subsequently
sent to the Cape for trial.) Colonel Pilcher’s “slim”
arrangement for the confusing of the natives prior to making his
advance was eminently successful, for the Boers, so a prisoner said,
considered themselves deeply aggrieved that they had not received
information regarding the proposed movements. On the 5th Colonel
Pilcher’s column arrived at Belmont. The night’s march from
Cook’s Farm was splendidly managed. News had reached him to
the effect that some 600 or 800 Boers intended to effect a junction,
and attack the column. At eight o’clock, therefore, the whole force
started quietly forth, stealing off in the jetty obscurity like a band
of conspirators. A halt was made during the night to allow the
troops a short spell of repose: after this they continued their journey
without mishap. Two companies of Canadians were employed to
hold a pass some six miles off Belmont, in order to prevent the
incoming force being cut off by the enemy.

So ended, happily, a most successful raid. The Colonial troops
had more than acted up to the expectation of every one; and, though
it was somewhat disappointing that Douglas had to be instantly
evacuated, the expedition had helped to demonstrate to the loyalists
that the British could and would come to their aid, and that faith in
the end has its reward.

The following table of their march is interesting as showing the
wear and tear to which the troops were subjected:—

[Pg 68]

This smart little military exploit was appreciated throughout the
globe. Telegrams poured in from all parts of the Queen’s dominions
congratulating Colonel Pilcher and the Colonials on the excellent
work they had accomplished. The following from G.O.C., Cape
Town, read:—

“Congratulate Colonel Pilcher on brilliant exploit, which will have far-reaching
effect.”

From Military Secretary, Government House:—

“Please send following message to Colonial troops employed in action at
Sunnyside: ‘His Excellency Sir Alfred Milner sends you his heartiest congratulations
on your success, and hopes it is only the forerunner of many more.
While regretting the loss of some of your brave comrades, he feels sure that
your friends in the colonies over the sea will feel proud of the success of their
representatives, as he himself does.’”

From Sir Redvers Buller the following was received:—

“General Buller desires that his congratulations be conveyed to the
Colonial troops on their action at Sunnyside.”

From the Governor, Queensland, came:—

“Request you will be good enough to convey to Queensland Mounted
Infantry hearty congratulations on gallant conduct at Sunnyside and sympathy
in loss of life. Second contingent embarks for South Africa next week.”

ACTIVITIES AND SURPRISES

More useful work, which had a direct bearing on the events of
the future, took place during Colonel Pilcher’s three weeks’ stay
at Belmont. Soon after the Douglas expedition another excursion
was devised. More Canadians were to be employed. The Queenslanders
were to send such men as they could mount, their animals
being, many of them, still hors de combat from the sea trip, and the
guns and infantry were to go as a matter of course. A dive into
the enemy’s country was projected—one of the first deliberate
incursions upon the Southern Dutch Republic. These incursions
were of immense value, and served in reality as pilotage for the
gigantic military engine that was shortly to sweep the way from the
Cape to Bloemfontein.

At six o’clock in the morning of Tuesday, January 9, the column
started. It was composed as follows:—

Royal Horse Artillery—Two guns, 45 men, 51 horses. Queensland
Mounted Infantry—Two Maxims, 116 men, 106 horses. Royal Munster
Fusiliers Mounted Infantry—15 men, 15 horses. Royal Canadian Regiment—Two
Maxims, 293 men, 2 horses. New South Wales Army Medical Corps—Two
ambulances, 18 men, 14 horses. Total—487 men, 188 horses.

The officers who were engaged in the flying column were:—

Staff—Lieut.-Col. T. D. Pilcher, P.S.C., in command; Major M. Dobell,
R.C.R.I., Staff Officer; Major S. J. A. Denison, R.C.R.I., Quartermaster; Major[Pg 69]
Brown, Q.M.I., Transport Officer; Lieut. Lafferty, R.C.R.I., Transport Officer;
Lieut. J. H. C. Ogilvy, in charge of R.C.R.I. machine gun section; Capt. Pelham,
Q.M.I., in charge of Queensland machine gun section; Lieut. A. C. Caldwell,
R.C.R.I., attached; Lieut. C. W. M’Lean, R.C.R.I., attached; Rev. J. M.
Almond, chaplain. Royal Horse Artillery—Major de Rougemont and Lieut.
Atkinson. Queensland Mounted Infantry—Lieut.-Col. Ricardo, Capt. Chauvel,
Capt. Pinnock, Lieut. Bailey, Lieut. Glascow. R.M.F. Mounted Infantry—Capt.
Bowen, Lieut. Tyrrell. Royal Canadian Regiment—Lieut.-Col. Pelletier.
A Company—Capt. Arnold, Lieut. Hodgins, Lieut. Blanchard. B Company—Lieut.
Ross, Lieut. J. C. Mason, Lieut. S. P. Layborn. H Company (half-company)—Lieut.
Burstall, Lieut. Willis. New South Wales Army Medical
Corps—Capt. Roth, Lieut. Martin; Capt. Dods, Queensland, attached. (Lieut.-Col.
Patterson of Queensland also went with the force as a spectator.)

The troops marched out by the road skirting the kopje so
gallantly stormed by the Guards, and moved over the veldt some
few miles to the south-east, towards the Free State. After passing
Riet Pan a wide left wheel was made, and the force struck north-east
to eastwards, towards the Free State. Here the dull purple kopjes
wound along in chains, dotted here and there with small plains some
three or four miles in depth and width. At Blaauwbosch Pan the
border was reached—the border between Griqualand West and
the Southern Republic. A halt was called. The troops gathered on
a circular plain fringed with high kopjes. The road, fenced across
with wire, ran through the plain, and close by was a small pan or
pool, which glittered like diamonds when shaken by the thunder
showers; for the sky, always overcast and threatening, now and
then burst into tears. Though these tears had the effect of April
showers they were mightily drenching, and the troops, in saturated
overcoats like tepid sponges, pursued their march somewhat uncomfortably.
In the place above described Col. Pelletier, with two
companies of the Canadians, was left with orders to remain till
three in the afternoon, in readiness, if occasion demanded, to reinforce
Colonel Pilcher. Failing a message, he was to return to
camp. The flying column proceeded, travelling north till parallel
with Enslin, where Gordons and Australians were encamped, and
from whence the Victorian Mounted Infantry were skirmishing.
Great caution had to be observed, as it was difficult, particularly
with so many Colonials about in their soft felt hats, to discern friend
from foe. Scares, as may be imagined, were many. One of these
took place when advancing horsemen were seen skimming the
distance. These dismounted and knelt. They meant business.
The excitement was intense. Signallers instantly fluttered flags,
and presently, after some moments of suspense, the troops were
reassured. It was a squadron of the 9th Lancers, who had
come from Modder River reconnoitring, keeping the Riet between
them and the Jacobsdal position. But we are anticipating.[Pg 70]

Types of Arms—Lord Dundonald’s Galloping Gun-Carriage with Maxim.
(Photo by Gregory & Co., London.)

On the first day of their march, the force enjoyed unlooked-for
hospitality. About five miles east of the border
was the house of one Commandant Lubbe, the commandant
of Jacobsdal, a luminary of some magnitude in the Free State.
He may be described as a “man of substance,” to which his
comfortable dwelling and flourishing surroundings testified. Upon
this pastoral domain the troops, somewhat famished and fatigued,
advanced. Their arrival, for the Boers, was most ill-timed and
unexpected. At that very moment dinner for some fifteen persons
was being spread, piping hot, on the festive board. Odours
of succulent fare pervaded the atmosphere, odours inviting—tantalising!
The portly Burghers were in the very act of setting to
when they were warned of the approach of British scouts. A
stampede followed. Departing coat-tails, and, five minutes later,
mounted dots racing away to the shelter of distant kopjes—that
was all that our troops on arrival beheld. But they saw something
better than Boers. Their eyes lighted on the goodly array of edibles,
and, presto! the officers were seated. Joyously they surrounded[Pg 71]
the well-equipped table, and demolished with zest and considerable
humour the repast which had been prepared for their foes.

A couple of negro domestics were the sole persons left on the
homestead. The place was searched; ammunition was found, and
dies for casting bullets. These were promptly destroyed. Some
live stock and various other useful articles were seized, including
three rifles left behind in the flight of the Burghers. Presently
there came a report that the enemy were in hiding in the neighbourhood
of some kopjes. A rush to action was made. The
Maxim gun section went to some kopjes flanking the house, the
Canadian guns went to a height on the east, the Queensland ones
to a height on the west. Lieutenant Willis took his section of
H Company to support the Queensland guns, while Lieutenant
Burstall took his section, with intrenching tools, to a ridge midway
between farm and kopje, to prepare a position. Clatter and clank
went the horse artillery guns to a coign of vantage on the right,
whence they could spit at the enemy if they should attempt to mount
or surround the big kopje in that direction, while the Queenslanders
on the west commenced explorations for the reported foe. Horror!
Slouch-hatted horsemen were distinctly visible—they were coming
nearer and nearer—though evidences of their own caution were
visible. They were not going to be trapped. Our gallant troops
were as determined not to be surprised. Thus must the Kilkenny
cats have commenced overtures. Both parties were wide awake!
Both parties were sidling up! It was but a matter of moments,
and they would promptly spring at each other’s throats!

Excitement was at a supreme pitch, when the good glasses of
an officer offered a revelation. The hostile hordes—the advancing
horsemen—were now plainly discernible. They proved to be not
blood-thirsty Boers—not an innocent crowd of ostriches that so often
in the distance had been mistaken for cavalry, but only a company
of Victorian Mounted Rifles from Enslin, from which place the
advanced line was this time but some dozen miles distant. It was
a pleasant surprise. The scouts came in contact, exchanged
greetings, and the troops each went on their respective way.
Colonel Pilcher’s force bivouacked at the farmhouse, and the
next morning, the 10th of January, saw them on their return
journey to Belmont. It was during this journey, as they wound
homewards with their captured prizes of oxen, that more horsemen
were seen in the distance—those who, as before said, were discovered
to be the 9th Lancers, on business already mentioned. The
force reached camp about noon. On the following day the sojourn
of Colonel Pilcher in those regions came to an end. He moved
on to Modder River to command the Mounted Infantry force at
the front. His stay was fraught with much benefit to the troops, as[Pg 72]
his energetic measures, smart manœuvres, and surprise drills brought
the spirited Colonials to a high state of alertness and proficiency.

AT MODDER RIVER

General Methuen, as has been noted, was forced at last to fall
back on his base at the Modder River, since the Boers held their
position in great strength, and it became necessary to rest the men,
free them from tension, and save them from unnecessary sufferings
due to the scarcity of water. In addition to this, the Engineers
were enabled to carry on much necessary work. Railway communication
was perfected, and the permanent bridge was repaired,
to provide against accident, which in case of a flood might overtake
the temporary one.

On the Boer left flank, from the extreme end of Majesfontein
south-eastwards to the Riet River, was comparatively open ground.
Beyond the broad expanse of bush which stretched for over a
thousand yards was a road leading to Jacobsdal, and farther on
was flat country which offered no cover, and appeared singularly
free from traps or trenches. Looking over this open ground, it
seemed possible to turn the Boer flank and cut off the enemy’s
communications with Jacobsdal, and possibly threaten his line of
retreat to the Free State.

Some one has called the Modder River the Hampton Court
of Kimberley, and perhaps it was fortunate that the troops found
themselves forced to halt in a locality which is one of the most
picturesque in South Africa. The surroundings were comforting
after the desolation of Gras Pan—with never a house to hint at
humanity, and only the frowning darkness of threatening kopjes to
break the monotony of the view—and the primitive prettiness of
Honeynest Kloof, which boasts but a farm or two and a few trees to
give it life. From this point the country became greener, the eye
was relieved from the autumnal drabs and purples of the rocky hills,
and began to lean affectionately on the suggestion of moistness
implied by the expanse of verdure.

Across the river was the crowded railway station, choked with
stores and goods waggons, and the usual medley of camp kit.
On one side accoutrements, lances, swords, the steel of their
scabbards glinting through the crackled coats of kharki—odds
and ends of uniform—telling their tale of action—action—action—in
all its phases. And close beside them were other portions of
baggage seemingly the same, but—oh! how tragically different!
Here were rifles and bayonets, broken, battered, and blood-stained—all
that was left of the heroic dead who had acted their last drama
at Majesfontein, and whose belongings, in an inert mass, seemed
to confess dumbly that they were “off duty” for ever.

MAJOR-GENERAL HECTOR A. MACDONALD, C.B.
Photo by Heath, Plymouth.

[Pg 73]

Christmas Day was an unpleasant memory—a tropical sun
overhead, a whirlwind of dust around. It is said that every man
must eat a peck of dirt in his life-time, and on this day the troops
certainly ate their quantum. Food and drink were ruined, and
tempers into the bargain, for the day was made into one long twilight
misery by a hurricane of driving dust.

The position of the Boers soon after this period grew somewhat
uncomfortable. Night attacks were threatened; indeed, Lord
Methuen had the Naval guns laid on to the Boer positions by day,
with the order that they were to be fired by night. And the order
was obeyed with zest. The Boers were on tenter-hooks. The
shells burst, throwing gorgeous haloes into the Majesfontein night.
Of course, the compliment was returned. Tier after tier of the
Boer positions spitted and spouted and vomited flame, and the night
breezes, carrying the fracas on their wings, brought it close, so close
indeed, that an attack sounded as though imminent. Still our
outposts were silent. Discipline kept them “mum.” Still the
Boers continued, and the rattle of their rifles directed at nothing
in particular, and everybody in general, wakened the echoes of
the hills.

There was nothing further to be done. Reinforcements had
to be awaited with annoying, almost humiliating patience. The
Boers were stretched from Jacobsdal on the east to a point miles
away on the west of the railway; they were intrenched horse-shoe
fashion, with Majesfontein for their most imposing stronghold.
There was no means of outflanking them, for in order to wheel
to the west the force would need to march through an arid and
waterless desert. Had the march been ventured upon, the position
might not have bettered, as Lord Methuen, even supposing he had
succeeded in reaching Kimberley, would still have had before him
the bulk of the Boer commandoes, who would have been at liberty
to cut off his supplies. The “relief” of Kimberley without supplies
would have been the reverse of relief.

All the British could do was to struggle to hold their ground,
and make their proximity as uncomfortable as possible for the
enemy. Routine went on like clockwork, save that the Modder
River clock had no works. It was a child of Necessity! A
broken steel rail suspended from a crossbeam was struck by the
sentry with the blunt head of an axe. The stupendous clang proclaimed
the hours all over the camp. The troops were not
allowed too much leisure, and ennui was not permitted to reach
them; they dug trenches, constructed breastworks, and generally
improved the lines of defence; indeed they worked with a will at
anything that came to hand. Some one, seeing them alight at a
railway station, remarked: “They’ve left all their frills behind[Pg 74]
them.” This was truly the case. Mr. Atkins was now above the
desire for display. He was workmanly in the extreme, and made
himself a jack of all trades, alternately groom, labourer, cook,
porter, mule-driver, laundryman, and hero! To-day he was scouring,
rubbing, kharki-painting, and hoisting; to-morrow he was
good-humouredly playing the rôle of his own washerwoman by
the river-side. One moment he was pulling or coaxing or cudgelling
obdurate mules, and apostrophising them in language peculiarly
his own; the next he was rushing gallantly to the forefront to spend
his heart’s blood in the service of his Queen!

To General Wood must be given the credit of the first entry
into the enemy’s country. On the 6th of January, with a force
of all arms, he occupied Zoutpansdrift, the place—situated north
of the Orange River, in Free State territory—where gallant
Captain Bradshaw met his fate. Communications between the
banks of the river were maintained by means of a pontoon
bridge. This was an excellent piece of work, for by holding
the drift it was possible to control the progress of the Free
Staters, and avert sudden raids against the railway between Orange
Station and De Aar. A great deal of active though scarcely
“showy” work was carried on at this time, often under the most
unfavourable conditions. For instance, on the 14th of January,
one of the most obnoxious and ever to be remembered dust-storms
burst over the place. It made life temporarily into a
bilious sea, a blinding, suffocating bath of yellow sand. Food was
ruined, to say nothing of temper. Clothes were covered, eyes and
throats were clogged, and the pores of the skin were caked with
showers of ochreous pepper, which made every one in camp miserable
for a period of quite seven hours!

Cavalry reconnaissances at this period were frequent. The
troops, always in peril of their lives, explored some twenty-five
miles into the Orange Free State, and found the country clear of
the enemy with the exception of patrols. The Victorian Mounted
Rifles under Captain M’Leish did some admirable scouting, and
visited several farms, which they found had been vacated in hot
haste at their approach. The country was thoroughly searched,
the 9th and 12th Lancers under General Babington doing valuable
work. It was this party that came in touch with Colonel Pilcher
and the Queenslanders near Lubbe’s Farm.

Our warriors became well versed in peculiarities of Boer homesteads.
All the Dutch farms had a brotherly likeness, and were
usually found at a sufficient distance from each other to carry out the
Boer ideal that one man should not breathe or see the smoke from
his neighbour’s chimney. They commonly nestled under cover
of some small kopje, and seemed as though so planted for purposes[Pg 75]
of self-protection. Self-protection is the first law of nature, and the
Boer character has a great reverence for first laws. In every farm
was found a harmonium—on the Natal side there were pianos—and
many Bibles. Some of these were valuable, and were old
enough to arouse the covetous interest of the bibliophile. Most
probably they were heirlooms, and had belonged to the early
trekkers, who could thumb them out, text by text, when their capacity
for other reading was nil. These one-storeyed abodes were
composed of sun-baked bricks plastered over, and the flat roofs
were lined within by ceilings of deal. Simplicity, ignorance, bad
taste, and uncleanliness reigned everywhere. Indeed, it was a
matter for wonder how close to civilisation, yet how remote from
it, the Dutchmen had contrived to dwell. The cattle kraals and
homestead were surrounded with rudely-constructed walls of stone
that in their ruggedness were not unpicturesque.

Types of Arms—Maxim Automatic Machine-Gun (the “Pom-Pom”).
(By permission of Messrs. Vickers Sons & Maxim, Limited.)

To return to camp. The Boers, determining not to be accused
of lack of invention, adopted a new and ingenious dodge. In the
distance from the British outposts a Highlander was observed in
the act of driving cattle. As the proceeding was contrary to orders,
the manœuvres of the man were carefully observed, and he was discovered
to be a Boer masquerading in Highland uniform. He was
at once fired upon and he fell, but succeeded in rising and making
off before he could be captured.[Pg 76]

On the 16th of January Lord Methuen made a demonstration
against the left of the Boer entrenchments at Majesfontein, for
the purpose of drawing off some of the force investing Colonel
Kekewich’s garrison. On the following day, the 17th, a similar
demonstration was made, but the enemy was nothing if not
“canny,” and refused to be drawn. Then new tactics were tried.
On the 23rd there was quite a theatrical bombardment. Night fell.
The moon rose, empurpling the frowning kopjes and filling the
whole foreground with magnesian radiance. Then the balmy breath
of evening was ruffled with the uproar of British shells, whizzing
like rockets and bursting in the Boers’ lair. For full half-an-hour a
brisk cannonade was maintained, neither party being in view of each
other, both being wrapped in the mysterious gloom of the midnight
shadows; but the echoes took up the weird tale of warring souls
and repeated it into the ear of the winds. Ordinarily, shelling
morning and evening was a matter of daily ritual. So many shells
into the Boer trenches, so much breakfast. An hour of brisk
bombardment, four hours of night’s repose. Such might have been
the printed programme.

On the 24th of January a tremendous reception was given to
General Hector Macdonald, who arrived in the best of health and
spirits, and at once took command of the Highland Brigade. With
each of the officers he conversed, and apprised them of a special
message entrusted to him by Lord Roberts, an attention which
afforded immense satisfaction to all concerned.

The appointment of “Fighting Mac”—as he is popularly called—to
the command of the Highland Brigade was full of romantic interest.
As a sergeant in the Gordon Highlanders he was one of
those who took part in the disastrous fight at Majuba. He was
unluckily taken prisoner, but so great was his valour and dash that
he even excited the admiration and appreciation of the enemy.
This was testified to this remarkable man in a remarkable way.
General Joubert, to show his esteem for his fine qualities as a soldier,
decided on restoring to him the sword which he had necessarily
surrendered. As the sword was not immediately forthcoming, the
Boer commander offered a reward for it, so that it should be returned
to the gallant fellow who had so nobly striven to defend it.
The picture of Colonel Macdonald and his Khedivial Brigade at
Omdurman was made ever present to us all through the vivid word-painting
of Mr. Steevens in his book “With Kitchener to Khartoum”;
and now it is easy to realise that the kilted warrior was at
the moment the right man in the right place. The men wanted
him. Some were sick and sore and fretted to get a chance to
distinguish themselves in the field. Tradition demanded it, and
tradition was dear to them; strangely and absurdly dear, some[Pg 77]
thought. Here were men exposed to the fierce sun in what the
layman calls “petticoats,” suffering agonies in the muscles of their
scorched legs, yet enduring anything rather than part with the
external attributes of their warrior land. Though the kilt and the
sporran had to be extinguished under a hideous apron of kharki, and
though the heat and weight of wool pleats surmounted by cotton
was overwhelming, they preferred these sufferings to any change
in their gear. Suggestions were offered on every side, but it was
certain that nothing would overcome the conservative devotion of
the Highlander for the warlike insignia of his race. Yet their
plight was sometimes pitiable, particularly on occasions when, as a
Scot described it, he had to take a barbed wire entanglement at
“the double” and emerged “a bleeding mass, with his kilt hard a
starboard, his kharki flap half left turn, and his sporran dangling on
the wire.” Anyhow the men of the kilt meant to hold on to all
their traditions, and to take the taste of Majesfontein out of their
mouths. And they were truly glad of “Fighting Mac” to help
them.

Camp routine was occasionally varied and upset by locust swarms.
These descended persistently for a space of about three hours, making
the atmosphere dense, as though thick with snowflakes. It was a
snowstorm in mourning. Down came the creatures in myriads, gobbling
every blade of grass, every crumb, every edible fragment, and
then, swiftly as they had come, disappearing on the wings of the
wind. They were useful at times, however, for on one occasion, just
as a party of troopers had almost fallen into a trap laid by the enemy,
the air became suddenly dark, and presently a veil of locusts descended,
entirely cutting off the British from the Boers, and enabling
the former to scuttle campwards in the sudden obscurity. Not so
convenient or comforting was the dust-storm, with which the troops
were becoming well acquainted. The dust-storm or dust-spout is
analogous to a waterspout. Columns of dust rise vertically to a
height of about 150 feet in the air and promptly descend with alarming
velocity, sweeping over the earth at the rate of five or six miles an
hour, and making life for the time being into a state of chaos. But
everything may be turned to account, and the British, being tired of
Boer tricks, utilised even the sand-storm with pleasing results. One
of the great difficulties of our gunners in shelling the enemy consisted
in the fact that the Boers, at the first sign of fire, rushed to
bomb-proof trenches. They employed lookout men to give a signal
of warning. On the 29th of January, however, when the Naval
gunners saw a storm brewing, they bided their time. No sooner
had the whirl descended than they set to work and plumped lyddite
with great success into the enemy’s lines.

Coming events now began to cast their shadows before. Acti[Pg 78]vities
around the railroad showed that the influence of Lord
Kitchener was already at work. The Royal Engineers commenced
to build a strong and permanent bridge across the Modder
at its confluence with the Riet. This bridge was constructed
about fifteen feet above water, to insure it against the flooding
of the river during the rainy season in the Free State, and enable
the heaviest traffic to be carried to the scene of action. This promised
shortly to be situated in the direction of Jacobsdal. Here
the Boers kept a species of headquarters; and here, in the open
plain dividing them from Kopjesdam, they set fire to the veldt for
two miles. The conflagration began in the afternoon of Wednesday,
the 31st of January, and continued throughout the night, illuminating
earth and sky with weird reflections. The smoke of these fires
served to act as a screen for Boer movements, for at this time the
hostile armies were reinforced by troops from Barkly and Koodoesberg
districts. The burning of the grass might also have been
arranged with the object of procuring a black background against
which the approach of winding, snake-like columns of kharki could
be more distinctly visible.

There was some excitement in camp as to the reported capture
of Mr. Jourdaan, the private secretary of Mr. Rhodes, who had
endeavoured to pass from the beleaguered town with messages from
the “Colossus” relating to the critical affairs of the moment.

On the 31st of January the British occupied Prieska unopposed.
The Boers had been in possession of the place in all about five
days, and had left, taking with them two prisoners, one of whom
they subsequently released. Commandants Olivier and Snyman
were busy recruiting, and finding themselves at a loss for combatants,
were now forcing Dutchmen all and sundry to serve with
the Transvaal colours. “There is no such thing as a loyal Dutchman,”
declared Olivier, and promptly commandeered young and old
on pain of fine or imprisonment.

[Pg 79]

CHAPTER V

CHRISTMAS AT LADYSMITH

Prices at Ladysmith had now gone up, but still those
whose purses were plethoric could treat themselves to a
few luxuries. Jam, for instance, was 3s. 6d. per lb., a
possible price but a tantalising; while eggs were sold at
about half a guinea a dozen. Whisky fetched from £5
to £7 a bottle, so there was little fear of dipsomania; and small
packets of cigarettes were worth 3s. 6d. a piece. On the 23rd of
December there was a grand auction. The Mayor at one time had
instituted periodical auctions for the sale of the town produce, but
finding competition too brisk, and fearing prices would never return
to their normal level, the plan had been dropped. However, in
face of Christmas there was a great sale, and the soldiers eagerly
competed for bargains in the way of chickens and ducks and
etceteras of the meal. In default of Covent Garden or Leadenhall,
a long table at an angle of the main street was set out with inviting
fare tantalizing to all but the most stoical. One Gordon was seen
dragging off another in act of making an extravagant bid—“Come
awa, mon! we dinna want nae sour grapes.” Poultry was fetching
from 8s. to 10s. a bird; while vegetables, in proportion, were more
costly still. Vegetable marrows were sold for 2s. 9d. each; and
carrots, homely and almost despised carrots, fetched over 3s. a
bunch! As a great luxury a turkey, a goose, a sucking-pig now
and then appeared on the Ladysmith board; but the ordinary
domestic meal was composed of trek beef and “goat” mutton.
But even these were becoming beautifully less.

Christmas passed off well. Hope revived. News of Lord
Methuen’s earlier victories refreshed the ears of the community,
and a series of sports of various kinds helped to impart to the day
a suitable air of festivity. Quantities of popular people set to work
to make the day merry. Colonel Dartnell, Major Karri Davies,
Colonel Rhodes—the delight of all from the Tommies to the babes—arranged
a Christmas Tree. It was decorated with gifts and
mottoes, “Imperial to the core,” and attended by children of all
sizes and degrees, even to a siege baby aged three days! But
behind the scene enteric fever and dysentery flourished, and languishing
in Intombi camp, two miles out, were pathetic remnants
of the hale and hearty regiments who had marched to the front[Pg 80]
in October. The other gallant warriors were now nothing more
than a mob of badly-dressed scarecrows, lean and wizened, but,
as one of them said, “good enough food for powder.” The horses,
too, had grown thin and spiritless, their anatomy was grievously
obvious, and in their eyes—those erstwhile fiery eyes—there seemed
to dwell the melancholy foreboding of a strange hereafter—the
hereafter when sausages should be served out to the hungry, and
the poor equine devotees would have spent the last of themselves to
keep the British flag flying.

The message of the Queen warmed the hearts of the weary
garrison. It was pleasant to know that the Sovereign, in thought,
lived in the shadows as in the sunlight of Empire. Still, none
but those experiencing it could plumb the depths of monotony and
wretchedness. It was enough to kill the martial spirit of the most
valorous, though none would own that bellicosity was exuding little
by little from their wasted finger-ends. Far from it.

Sir George White maintained a series of night attacks or
threats of night attacks, which served to keep the Boers uncomfortably
on the qui vive, and these, as a necessary return, indulged
in exasperating bombardment during the day. On the 26th as
many as 176 shells were flung into the town before nine in the
morning, independently of the action carried on by the Maxim
automatic guns. It was plain the Boers considered that the inactivity
of Christmas Day must be atoned for, and therefore the
guns were plied with additional ardour. On the 27th, unfortunately,
their murderous efforts were more than rewarded. A shell
was fired from the Creusot gun on Bulwana, which dropped into
the Devons’ mess at Junction Hill. There, were congregated
many of the officers, and of these Lieutenant Dalziel and Lieutenant
Price-Dent were killed. Many others were wounded.
Lieutenant Twist was injured in five places, and Lieutenants Scafe,
Kane, Field, Byrne (Inniskilling Fusiliers), Tringham (Royal West
Surrey), and Captain Lafone—who had been previously wounded at
Elandslaagte—were all more or less mutilated.

HOUSEHOLD CAVALRY—CAPTAIN, 2nd LIFE GUARDS.
Photo by Gregory & Co., London.

On the 28th the Naval Battery took on itself to avenge the
loss of the noble fellows who had fallen victims to the Bulwana
gun, and directed at it, or rather at its gunners, six well-intentioned
shots from the 4.7 inch and 12-pounder, with the result that the
voice of the aggressor was temporarily silenced. There was
some satisfaction in the feeling that the gunners who had created
such awful havoc and regret had met their deserts. Both Lieutenant
Dalziel and Lieutenant Price-Dent were particularly promising
young officers, having both seen service with Sir William
Lockhart on the Indian frontier, the latter having also served in
the Chitral Relief Force. A sentiment of gloom mingled with fury[Pg 81]
disturbed the fortitude of the gallant party, and the only satisfaction
they enjoyed was calculation and speculation as to what form
Sir Redvers Buller’s next move would take. “When will Buller
come, and how?” such were the questions which were repeated
scores of times during the day.

The cessation of the fire from Bulwana was certainly cheering,
and from various sources it was discovered that the Boers were
becoming nervous in fear of night attacks and the destruction of
more of their big guns. Their state of mind was not evidenced
entirely by their conduct, for two plugged shells fired into the camp
were found to contain a hunk of plum-pudding and the compliments
of the season.

Sickness, as we know, was rife, but fortunately there were
many doctors of repute in the town, members of the Army Medical
Department, and also independent practitioners. There was Dr.
Jameson, whose ability was for years testified at Kimberley, and also
Dr. Davies of Johannesburg; these assisted materially in giving
advice, but unfortunately medicines were now growing scarce,
and milk, though some invalids could digest nothing else, was not
to be had. It is too pathetic to deal with the losses that must have
occurred through the lack of suitable nourishment for those whose
cases, not in themselves serious, only required care and sustenance.

The bombardment on the first day of the New Year had tragic
results. A shell crashed into the house of Major Vallentine and
killed a soldier servant named Clydesdale. Later, another shell
burst near the railway station, where a cricket match between the
railway officials and bridge guards was taking place, and killed
Captain Vallentine Todd. The unlucky player was in the act of
bowling, and dropped with the ball still in his hand.

THE ATTACK ON WAGON HILL

Our midnight surprises had not been without their lesson, and
now the Boers conceived the brilliant, the desperate idea of
emulating British example, and bringing Ladysmith to her knees
by assault in the small hours. Some three days before the event, a
Kaffir deserter had warned the besieged that an attack was contemplated;
that it had been decided among the Boers that a large
force must be moved up from the neighbourhood of Colenso, and
that a final assault at arms must be attempted. The warning was
pooh-poohed. Kaffir tales were almost as prevalent as flies! It
was proverbial that night attacks to the Dutchman were taboo—they
were dangerous, they tried the nerves, and cold steel glittered
horribly in the moonlight. So Ladysmith slept. But as a matter
of fact the Kaffir was right. These arrangements had taken place,[Pg 82]
and two storming parties from the Heidelberg and Harrismith
commandoes were promised immediate return to their homes if they
should succeed in the hazardous enterprise. Accordingly, on the
evening of the 5th of January they arranged a plan which on Saturday
the 6th they almost carried out. The main object of their
attack, they decided, should be on the western side of the perimeter,
where a crescent-shaped, flat-topped eminence divided them from
the town. At the south point of this crescent was placed Cæsar’s
Camp, bounded on the east by the Klip River, and at the west
point, a distance of some four miles, was a post known as Wagon
Hill. Close to this was a twin plateau called Wagon Hill West.
Cæsar’s Camp was guarded by the Manchester Regiment, the 42nd
Field Battery, and a Naval 12½-pounder gun. Only half a battalion
of 60th Rifles were on Wagon Hill, while two squadrons of Imperial
Light Horse were on Wagon Hill West. Against these positions
the enemy decided to make their concentrated attack. The darksome
steeps were almost perpendicular, and afforded excellent cover
for approach. In some respects they resembled Majuba, where a
man climbing up was almost invisible till he came face to face with
his quarry. Some three hundred warrior-farmers of the Harrismith
commando arranged secretly to gather in Fournier’s Spruit, a dry
nullah which intersected the base of the position, and there wait till
the gloom of the small hours should give them the chance they were
expecting. Their plan was to divide in two columns. The one,
under the Harrismith Commandant, De Villiers, was to attack the
steeps of Wagon Hill West, while the other, in concert, was to
crawl to the nek or slope which united that hill with Wagon Hill
proper, and thus cut off the former hill from the rest of the camps.
In this way, should the plan succeed, they hoped to make the
southern peak of the hill, Cæsar’s Camp, untenable. Accordingly,
divesting themselves of shoes, they started off, and under cover of
darkness, like stealthily slinking panthers, approached, from different
points, the British lines. It so happened that a Hotchkiss gun
and some Naval guns were being placed in position on the top of
Wagon Hill West. Possibly these guns may have tempted the
enemy. They would be useful, they thought, to capture and turn
on camp or town. All day and all night the Royal Engineers and
Bluejackets had been labouring to get the weapons into position,
and at this hour the party were taking a “breather” after their long
and arduous efforts. With them, to cover their operations, were
the King’s Royal Rifles and the Gordon Highlanders, who occupied
a post on the front and flank. The fatigue party were resting, as
before stated. Suddenly, in the stillness of the night, a curious and
unusual sound was heard. The velvety sound of a muffled footfall.
A crumbling as of broken earth. Ears pricked up. The sentry at[Pg 83]
once cried out, “Who goes there?” “Friend,” was answered, and
the next moment the sentry dropped dead!

Curiously enough, while the beforesaid plan of attack was in
course of being enacted, Lieutenant Mathias was visiting his posts.
In the obscurity he all at once found himself confronted by Boers on
every side. With amazing presence of mind he faced about, and
seeing that the Dutchmen mistook him for one of themselves, acted
as if he also were assaulting the hill. When near enough, however,
he made a rush—a desperate rush—to warn the pickets of their danger.
But he was too late. Two men were shot dead, whilst Lieutenant
Mathias and a third trooper were wounded. There was no help at
hand, and before assistance could be summoned, the enemy were
already sweeping the hill. But the sound of the first shots had
given the alarm.

Instantly all was flurry and confusion. Men that a moment
before had been sleepily yawning after their heavy labours were
racing hither and thither, groping in the darkness in search of arms.
Others however, who were armed, forebore to fire, the felt hats of
the foe being mistaken for those of the Imperial Light Horsemen.
With a desperate effort Lieutenant Digby Jones gathered together
his sappers. Hurried shots were fired, hurried orders given, but
nothing could efface the effects of the sudden surprise. The Boers
had gained the hill and driven the defenders over the crest! This
all in a darkness that might have been felt. Such lanterns as there
were had been overturned and extinguished in the hustle of the
stampeding Kaffirs, who had been assisting at the arrangement
of the gun, and who, at the first approach of the enemy, had fled.
Forks and flashes of flame shining from the nek between the twin
hills showed that the second column of the Dutch commando also
was attaining its object. The gun, which fortunately had not yet
been erected on the top of the hill, was instantly got to work
under the direction of Lieutenant Parker; rifles were seized,
and an effort was made in the obscurity to sweep the hill in the
direction where the enemy was supposed to be. But the Boers
were completely enveloped in the darkness of the night, and it was
impossible to locate them; and the Hotchkiss gun was drawn back
within the sandguard which had hurriedly been thrown up, only just
in time. The Boers were now almost upon it. All the available
men about Wagon Hill had instantly rushed to the rescue, and the
Imperial Light Horse, some King’s Royal Rifles, and a few Gordon
Highlanders were soon in the thick of the fray. The Highlanders,
taking their place round the crest, fired, as hard as rifles would let
them, down the slope. Some fierce fighting followed. Before the
Boers could get farther up, the Imperial Light Horse with their
wonted gallantry engaged them, and sent the invaders helter-skelter[Pg 84]
down hill into the mysterious mists of the dawn. But this was but
for a moment—it was merely the commencement of affairs.

The whole garrison got under arms, not only the military, but
every available man taking up some weapon to assist in withstanding
the onslaught. It was felt to be a desperate situation, desperate for
both sides, for the enemy knew that something must be done, and
that quickly, to prevent the pending arrival of relief by Sir Redvers
Buller, while the garrison, in face of reduced rations, disease,
dysentery, and decreasing ammunition, was aware that it was a case
of now or never. The alarm once given, Colonel Hamilton from
the west had sent for reinforcements with amazing rapidity, and up
came two and a half companies of Gordon Highlanders from the
base of Cæsar’s Camp, while one company under Captain the Hon.
R. T. Carnegie started to support the Manchester pickets on Cæsar’s
Camp, and a company and a half went to Wagon Hill. It was
while the Gordons were marching up and crossing the bridge of the
Klip River that they met with their first mishap. Colonel Dick
Cunyngham, only just recovered from his wound at Elandslaagte,
was struck by a chance bullet and fell mortally wounded. Major
Scott then took the command. Presently came the Rifle Brigade
and half a battalion of the first 60th to the rescue, while the 21st
Field Battery hurried to cover the western approaches to Wagon
Hill, and the 53rd Battery took up a position to guard the most
southern point of Cæsar’s Camp. But all this movement was not
accomplished till much carnage had been wrought. As already
mentioned, the Boers had nearly achieved their object and cut off
Wagon Hill West from Wagon Hill proper. By dawn they were
straggling on the plateau connecting the two hills, merely checked
in their further advance on Wagon Hill by the remnant of the Light
Horse. Firing at this time was so terrific and at such close range
that it was impossible to move from cover and live. Bullets literally
buzzed like bees in the serene morning air. On one side were the
Boers making for the second hill, on the other were the British
struggling to ward them off. Meanwhile, trickling along through
the Fournier’s Spruit were arriving more desperate farmers, more
picked men of skilled marksmanship and deadly purpose. At this
time reinforcements also arrived for the brave little band who were so
gallantly resisting the Dutchmen. But even the additional numbers
were insufficient, it was impossible to cope with the marvellous marksmanship
of the advancing horde. They came ever nearer and nearer,
firing thick and fast—and with explosive bullets. The Colonel, two
Majors, and four other officers of the Light Horse dropped—the
enemy seized the position—and from thence it was impossible to
dislodge them! To do this it would have been necessary to rush
through some sixty yards of what seemed hell-fire—a perfect ava[Pg 85]lanche
of death. Major Mackworth made the dashing effort, but in
the very act he was stricken down, and most of the gallant fellows of
the 60th Rifles who accompanied him. Another officer, Lieutenant
Tod, pluckily attempted the same hazardous exploit. Twelve noble
fellows followed him. Six were hit, and the valiant young leader
dropped dead before he had moved three yards from cover. Colonel
Codrington (11th Hussars), who was commanding a squadron of the
Imperial Light Horse, made a rush forward to ascertain if it were
possible to get cover for his men, but before he had gone thirty
yards, he too shared the fate of the other officers. These experiences
were sufficient. It was decided that the best plan would be to wait
under cover till dusk, when the bayonet might be made to supersede
the rifle.

H.M.S. “POWERFUL.”
Photo by Symonds, Portsmouth.

While all this was taking place on Wagon Hill, a terrific drama
was being enacted at Cæsar’s Camp; and exciting assaults, defeats,
and re-assaults were following each other on Wagon Hill West.
Soon after dawn, the 52nd Field Battery, under Major Abdy,
commenced to shell the slopes below Cæsar’s Camp, and keep the
enemy from ascending in that direction. The operation was one
fraught with extreme difficulty, as the shells were forced to travel
over the heads of our own men in order to effect a lodgment at the
desired spot. But the work of the gunners was admirable, and the
shells burst with a precision that wrought awful destruction on the
enemy. The whole of the eastern slopes of the hill were covered
with dead Dutchmen lying amidst fragments of steel and iron in the
blood-clotted grass. The scene around Ladysmith at this time was
appalling. Away in the direction of Wagon Hill, fiercely every
inch of ground was being contested, and here the Naval guns and
artillery were bellowing and roaring and sending their deadly
messages all along the ridge of Cæsar’s Camp, driving off the
enemy, who came back again and again. There was a hard
tussle, particularly for the Gordons and the Rifle Brigade. Their
lives hung by a thread. The Boers were inflamed with either hope
or desperation, and, contrary to custom, advanced to death and
destruction with dogged and, one may say, admirable pluck. Day
broke and grew to its zenith, and still the fighting raged; still the
guns roared and snorted; still the dust and dirt flew to the skies,
coming down again to stop the mouths of gasping, dying men, and
blind the eyes of those who, blood-stained and sweltering, were yet
selling their lives at the dearest price that could be asked.

Just as the fire was slackening, possibly from sheer fatigue on
both sides, the heavily charged thunder-clouds burst over the position,
and a terrific downpour of hail and rain scourged the contesting
forces and flooded the trenches. The Boers at this time had been
driven to a corner like wolves at bay, and could not emerge without[Pg 86]
running the gantlet of a tremendous fire from the Ladysmith guns.
Wet to the skin, the ground one vast meadow of slush, the combatants
still held on with grim tenacity, each side watching lynx-eyed,
each being now almost mad with an insatiable and ferocious
desire for victory.

The storm continued and grew. Instead, as imagined, of relinquishing
the fight, the Boers took courage from the tempest. The
tornado from heaven only served to increase the tornado below! It
seemed to suit the stormy state of human passions, to stimulate
rather than subdue. Under cover of the thunder and the swirl of
the elements the Federals made one desperate onward rush, but the
furious fire which met them from Volunteers and British Infantry
hurled them back and sent them spinning in heaps or rushing with
howls down the hill. The 53rd Battery swept the bush country
with a storm of shrapnel, and away to cover they went, and with
them their reinforcements, who had been hiding in the neighbouring
nullahs, waiting for the great, the final hour of triumph.

So much for Cæsar’s Camp. On Wagon Hill before noon the
Devons, with their gallant commander, had come to the forefront,
Colonel Park again leading them to renewed success. As we know,
the Boers were already on the hill, and the Gordons, who had lost
their officers, were falling back when Major Milner Wallnutt rallied
them. The enemy were soon removed from the emplacement which
they held; but they rushed towards the west, and were there as
dangerously fixed as ever. About two o’clock the most horrible
moment of the fight arrived. The hill that had been the subject
of such eager contest was again attacked, this time by a small but
desperate body of Dutchmen. De Villiers, their Commandant, made
a wild forward rush to secure the position. In an instant Major
Wallnutt and a sapper were shot dead, but the rest of the sappers
magnificently fronted the invaders with fixed bayonets. Presently
the brilliant youth, the hero of the Surprise Hill affair, Lieutenant
Digby Jones, R.E., led them forward, shot De Villiers, and dropped!
A bullet had sent him home to his last account. The hoary-headed
Burghers were stayed in their onward march by the splendid action
of the noble boy, who so many times had risked his young life in
the service of his country. At this juncture up came a dismounted
squadron of the 18th Hussars, and the situation was saved. The
plateau was reoccupied.

Plan of Ladysmith and Chronicle of Events. (From Drawing by W. T. Maud.)
[Transcribers’ note: Image is a link to a larger scale image.]

But even then all was not over. The great, the supreme effort
to recapture Wagon Hill came at four o’clock in the afternoon.
The lightning flashed, the thunder rolled, the hail clattered and
splashed, the guns blazed, vomited, and growled, and the silky
whistle of bullets made a flute-like treble to the awful orchestra of
sound. In the midst of the uproar the Boers again obstinately[Pg 87]
advanced up the heights, firing deliberately as they came. On
their heads poured the wrath of the British guns, and among their
numbers rained the ceaseless bullets of the Infantry; but they steadily
moved up, doggedly determined once more to reach the crest of the
hill. They came nearer and ever nearer till, on a sudden, they[Pg 88]
flung themselves upon the Devons, who, cheering wildly, rushed
into their midst and dispersed them. One short moment—one wild,
valiant rush, and then—then the trusty British bayonets dripped
with gore, and the Boers—all that were left of them, a racing,
disorganised rabble—surged madly down the hill!

The worst was over; the British conquerors rushed after the retreating
foe. The Devons, led by their intrepid commander, charged
down the slope, and this time, with a wild exultant yell—which echoed
like a tocsin among the caves and the boulders and the honeycombed
banks of the river—effectually drove the fleeing herd from
the scene of carnage.

The lost ground was recovered, but the lost lives…. Yes;
they, too, live in the glorious annals of British history.

Captain Lafone, Lieutenants Field and Walker were among the
slain; and Lieutenant Masterton was wounded. The splendid
charge cost the Devons all the company officers—fifteen killed and
forty wounded!

THE GREAT ASSAULT ON LADYSMITH—THE DEVONS CLEARING WAGON HILL.
Drawing by W. T. Maud.

It was a dreadful seventeen hours’ work. Not a soul but had
his duty, and more than his duty, cut out for him. The jolly Jack
Tars stood to their guns from morn till night, blazing away with
marvellous accuracy and precision, while the gallant Natal Police,
Natal Carabineers, and Mounted Rifles were wedged between the
Boers from Mount Bulwana and the rest of their attacking party,
and signally defeated all their efforts to effect a junction. The
Manchester Regiment, the Border Regiment, a detachment of
Mounted Rifles, the Gordon Highlanders, and the Rifle Brigade
defended the east of Cæsar’s Camp like heroes, while on the west,
as we know, the Imperial Light Horse, more Gordon Highlanders,
the Devon Regiment, the King’s Royal Rifles, and a Naval detachment
did glorious deeds. The Naval Brigade and the Natal Naval
Volunteers occupied a central position, while three batteries of the
Field Artillery were perched on a hill, and one remained on the
ground below. All these were called upon to act with might and
main to avert the pending calamity, to meet the stubborn, mulish
persistency of the Boers with its match in British bulldog obstinacy,
and show the enemy that with all the odds against them the besieged
would never surrender. Valiantly—almost miraculously—they held
their own. They who for months had been exposed to privation of
all kinds, who had fought engagement after engagement, who had
eaten, drunk, and slept with the shadow of death hanging over them,
knowing that at any moment the caprice of fate might make them
victims to the incoming shells or threatened disease, came out with
enfeebled frames, but wills of iron, determined to conquer or to die.

Elsewhere there had also been bloody doings. The enemy had
even tried to force their way into the town, and from here they were[Pg 89]
chased by the gallantry and daring of the Gloucester, Leicester, and
Liverpool Regiments. The Boers were forced to retire, but even
in their retirement they showed characteristic “slimness,” as they
made their way in line with the neutral camp at Intombi Spruit, and
thus defied the British to fire upon them. Nor was this the only
example of their ingenious mode of self-defence on that day. Their
“slimness” was carried on on every available opportunity. For
instance, a party of the enemy, under cover of darkness of the early
morning, had got almost within touch of Lieutenant Royston, who
at once called on the Border Mounted Rifles to fire. They were in
the act of doing so when a voice rang out, “Don’t shoot. We are the
Town Guard.” No sooner, however, had the order to “Cease fire”
been heard than crack, crack, ping, ping, a volley was at once
poured on the Colonials. Several of their number dropped, but the
rest, exasperated beyond endurance at the hateful duplicity, charged
into the midst of the enemy, leaving scarce one of them to tell the tale.

These tricks and dodges set aside, the Boers fought more
pluckily than was their wont, and they, cheered on by their
dauntless Commandant, De Villiers, came to such close quarters that
Colonel Hamilton had recourse to his revolver. Among the first
of the gallant defenders to drop was the glorious, heroic figure of
Colonel Dick-Cunyngham.[3] He was seen standing on the road-bridge
in the act of leading his men, and was struck by some sharp-shooting
Boer. By seven o’clock in the morning numbers of other
splendid fellows had fallen, and the air of Ladysmith was rent with
the cries and groans of the dying, who thickly strewed the ground.
[Pg 90]Lord Ava, orderly officer to Colonel Hamilton, fell mortally injured,[4]
and Colonel Edwards’s wound was also severe.

Lieutenant Digby Jones (Royal Engineers) took a most heroic
part, alas! with tragic results. With his own hands he shot three
of the enemy, and clubbed a fourth, but for his gallant conduct, which
doubtless would have been rewarded with a V.C., he paid later on in
the day with his life. One gallant young trooper of the Imperial
Light Horse had strange experiences. He, with only a sergeant,
was among the first to meet the Boers. In the dusk of dawn the
sergeant fell, and the trooper was wounded. He recovered his senses
sufficiently to try and creep to cover. A shower of rain drenched him,
then the sun blazed out mercilessly and scorched him. Worn out, he
decided he would stagger to the Devons and get support, but, battered
as he was, they failed to recognise him, and arrested him as a spy!

Numerous deeds of amazing valour were performed, so many
indeed that they deserve a separate record without the limits of the
narrative. But the story of the heroic Bozeley cannot be omitted.
During the action there was a sergeant in command of one of the
guns sitting rather doubled up on the trail of his gun. A 4.7 shell
took off his leg high up on one side, and took the arm out of the
socket, and he fell across the trail of the gun, as they thought, an
inanimate, speechless mass. But to the astonishment of every man
amongst them, a voice came from the mass inciting them on to their
duty, and saying: “Here, you men, roll me out of the way, and go
on working the gun.”

The list of casualties was a grievously long one:—

Killed:—5th Lancers—Second Lieutenant W. H. T. Hill. 23rd Corps
Royal Engineers—Lieutenant R. J. T. Digby Jones, Second Lieutenant
G. B. B. Dennis. 1st Devonshire Regiment—Captain W. B. Lafone, Lieutenant
H. N. Field, Lieutenant C. E. M. Walker, 1st Somerset Light Infantry
(attached). Imperial Light Horse—Lieutenant William F. Adams, Lieutenant
John Edward Pakeman. 1st King’s Royal Rifle Corps—Brevet-Major F.
Mackworth, 2nd Royal West Surrey Regiment (attached). 2nd King’s Royal
Rifle Corps—Major R. S. Dowen, Lieutenant M. M. Tod, 1st Cameronians
(attached), Second Lieutenant F. H. Raikes. 2nd Gordon Highlanders—Major
C. C. Miller Wallnutt. 2nd Rifle Brigade—Second Lieutenant L. D. Hall.
Wounded:—Staff—Captain Earl of Ava dangerously (died January 11).
Intelligence Department—Local Captain H. Lees-Smith, slightly. 5th Lancers—Captain
E. O. Wathen, slightly. Imperial Light Horse—Lieutenant-Colonel
A. H. M. Edwards, 5th Dragoon Guards (attached), slightly, Major W. Karri
Davis, slightly, Major D. E. Doveton, dangerously (died February 14), Lieutenant
W. R. Codrington, 11th Hussars (attached), dangerously, Lieutenant
J. Richardson, 11th Hussars (attached), severely, Lieutenant Douglas[Pg 91]
Campbell, dangerously, Lieutenant P. H. Normand, slightly. 1st Devonshire
Regiment—Lieutenant J. Masterson, severely. 1st Manchester Regiment—Major
A. E. Simpson, slightly, Captain A. W. Marden, slightly, Captain T.
Menzies, slightly, Second Lieutenant E. N. Fisher, severely. 1st King’s
Royal Rifle Corps—Lieutenant R. McLachlan, severely. 2nd Gordon Highlanders—Lieutenant-Colonel
W. Dick-Cunyngham, severely (died January 7),
Captain Hon. R. Carnegie, severely, Lieutenant W. Macgregor, severely.
2nd Rifle Brigade—Brevet Major G. Thesiger, severely, Captain S. Mills,
dangerously (died February 2), Captain R. Stephens, severely, Captain H.
Biddulph, slightly, Second Lieutenant C. E. Harrison, slightly. 5th Lancashire
Fusiliers—Lieutenant F. Barker, attached Army Service Corps. Natal
Mounted Rifles—Captain A. Wales, slightly, Lieutenant H. W. Richardson,
slightly. Volunteer Medical Staff, Lieutenant R. W. Hornebrook, slightly.
Royal Army Medical Corps—Major C. G. Woods, slightly.

On the following day—Sunday—in the Anglican Church, a
thanksgiving service for victory was held, and all who were able
attended the solemn function. At the close of the simple yet
impressive service General White and his staff stood at the altar
rails while the Te Deum was performed, and this was afterwards
followed by the singing in thrilling unison of the National Anthem.
Round the Chief were the men who have fought by his side through
many days of sore trouble—each hour an eternity in its experiences.
The well-known forms of General Sir Archibald Hunter and General
Ian Hamilton were in evidence, but some, alas! of that goodly company
would never be seen again. In the Town Hall close by, and in
the adjacent hotels and dwellings, honest manly souls were breathing
their last, and others had already taken their flight to where the great
thanksgiving service of creation goes on for ever and ever.

Among these last was a man who was the pride of his sex and
an ornament to his profession, Colonel Dick-Cunyngham, V.C.
Wounded previously, from his second blow he never rallied, and
on this sad Sunday passed away.

In a few words the Daily Telegraph summed up the surprising
qualities of the heroic figure that had so lamentably passed from
society as from the scene of war: “Lieutenant-Colonel Dick-Cunyngham
was the beau-ideal of a Highland officer, and there
was not a man or woman in the world who had a bad word to say
about him. His heart was as true as steel, and his manner was
courtesy itself. In his kilt and bonnet, a moustache that was so light
that it was nearly white telling against the bronze of his face, and
with a mountaineer’s figure, he was a man who caught every artist’s
eye at once, and he has figured, without his knowledge, again and
again in pictures and illustrations. At Shirpur he first gave proof
of his great gallantry by rallying the men when for a moment they
wavered; at Majuba he was the officer who asked permission to
charge. Elandslaagte and Ladysmith are the last two names in his
long record of heroism.”

[Pg 92]

CHAPTER VI

BULLER’S SECOND ADVANCE

At last, after a long period of suspense, it was possible for
General Buller’s force to make an appreciable advance.
The arrangements were set on foot with the utmost
secrecy, and on the 9th of January the second forward
movement of the troops from Frere and Chieveley may be
said to have commenced. General Barton and the Fusilier Brigade
were deputed to watch over Colenso, and with them were left some
dummy cannon, cunningly contrived by Jack Tar so as not to forewarn
the Boers, and allow them to congratulate themselves on the
absence of lyddite from their vicinity. This was not the first time
that guns in effigy had been arranged to do duty in our dealings with
the Boers. During one of the sieges in the year 1881, a “Quaker”
cannon was erected in an inviting position on purpose to draw the
Boers’ fire, with the result that they expended the best part of a day and
a vast amount of valuable ammunition on the imperturbable object!

PIETERMARITZBURG FROM THE EAST.
Photo by Wilson, Aberdeen.

To appreciate the gigantic nature of the advance now made, we
may refer to a rough table showing the composition and strength of
the forces in Natal at this date under the command of Sir Redvers
Buller.

SIR REDVERS BULLER’S FORCE

Second Division.—(Lieutenant-General Sir C. F. Clery).—2nd (Hildyard’s)
Brigade—2nd East Surrey; 2nd West Yorks; 2nd Devons; 2nd West Surrey.
4th (Lyttelton’s) Brigade—1st Rifle Brigade (included in Sir C. Warren’s Division);
1st Durham Light Infantry; 3rd King’s Royal Rifles; 2nd Scottish
Rifles (Cameronians); Squadron 14th Hussars; 7th, 14th, and 66th Field
Batteries, less 11 guns of 14th and 66th Batteries lost at Colenso.

Third Division.—5th (Hart’s) Brigade—1st Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers;
1st Connaught Rangers; 1st Royal Dublin Fusiliers; 1st Border. 6th (Barton’s)
Brigade—2nd Royal Fusiliers; 2nd Royal Scots Fusiliers; 1st Royal
Welsh Fusiliers; 2nd Royal Irish Fusiliers; Squadron 14th Hussars; 63rd,
64th, and 73rd Field Batteries.

Fifth Division.—(Lieutenant-General Sir Charles Warren).—10th
(Coke’s) Brigade—2nd Dorset; 2nd Middlesex. 11th (Woodgate’s) Brigade—2nd
Royal Lancaster; 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers; 1st South Lancashire; 1st
York and Lancaster; Squadron 6th Dragoons; 19th, 20th, and 28th Field
Batteries. Brigades uncertain—2nd Royal Dublin Fusiliers; 2nd Somerset
Light Infantry. Corps Troops—61st Field Battery (Howitzers); Natal Battery
9-pounders; Six Naval 12-pounder quick-firers; 4th Mountain Battery; 4.7
Naval guns. Cavalry Brigade—1st Royal Dragoons; 13th Hussars. South[Pg 93]
African Colonial Troops—500 Bethune’s Mounted Infantry; Thorneycroft’s
Mounted Infantry; Natal Carabineers; South African Light Horse (seven
squadrons); Imperial Light Horse (squadron); Imperial Light Infantry; Natal
Police.

This table suggests a very imposing army, but it is necessary to
remember that only a part of any force assembled at the base is available
for actual attack. The lines of communication to Chieveley
alone were some 160 miles in length, and the necessary work of
guarding them, securing easy transport and supply, Royal Engineer
work, and other business connected with the munition of war, independent
of sickness, absorbed a large proportion of the troops.
Military experts estimated that the absolute fighting men were far
fewer than supposed. The table here shown represents some
30,000 men, but of these about 5000 were engaged in miscellaneous
work. Out of twenty-three battalions of infantry it was necessary
to use three or even more for the guarding of the lines of communication.
Of three regiments of cavalry, only a part was available,
while of the other arms, allowance had to be made for the loss that
had been sustained, and also for sickness. In this march, now that
the army had at last moved from the railway, the baggage column
was enormous. It made a procession of some miles in length as it
lumbered along primitive roads, through mud sometimes ankle-deep.
It had been decided to bring up all tents, sheep, coops, &c., and
consequently the various fatigue duties involved in the move were
enormous.

When one considers the ordinary transport of a mere regiment,
it is possible to form some idea of the amazing cortège that had to
follow the movements of the commander. The transport of a regiment
in South Africa, roughly speaking, was composed of six ox-waggons,
each drawn by sixteen oxen in pairs tandem fashion
(managed by Kaffir boys, one driving the wheelers, another spurring
the whole caravan by means of an enormous whip and a profuse
vocabulary); four ammunition carts, each drawn by six mules; a
water-cart, with pair of mules; a “Scotch” cart, and a strong luggage-cart,
drawn by four mules, for conveyance of tents, blankets, and
food, &c. A little mental multiplication will help us to picture the
long serpentine coil that was twisting its way from Colenso to the
new westerly point of attack.

The procession was forced to move slowly and cautiously
through a rugged, mountainous district, from which no supplies of
any sort could be drawn. The ox-waggon of the country had to be
relied upon entirely for heavy transport. This mode of conveyance
is somewhat characteristic of the progress of the tortoise; two miles
an hour was the average rate of advance, and at most the shambling
cattle succeeded in covering about twelve to fifteen miles a day. Of[Pg 94]
proper roads there were none. The country was a vast swamp
after heavy rain, or, in fine weather, a mass of dry ruts and tracks,
steep hills, difficult fords, and irritating boulders. Over all this had
to be coaxed or goaded the patient oxen, or, still worse, the stubborn,
obstinate mules which dragged the lighter carts, and which, like
ignorant persons, sometimes jibbed for sheer jibbing’s sake, true to
the obstructionist instinct that belongs to the intellectually stolid.
When a team of these strong yet strange beasts chooses to jib at
a ford or in a pass, it takes some companies of infantry to haul the
waggon on to level ground, and then, and only then, will they
condescend to resume their labour. It may therefore be imagined
that the progress of troops—dependent as they were for food and
forage on the tempers of quadrupeds—was at this time slow and
not always sure! However, troops and baggage were gradually
concentrated at Springfield, while the Boers, who had spies everywhere,
among boulders, in dongas, and upon the formidable height
of Spion Kop, hurried about their preparations for the renewed
and mighty tussle which was now pending.

On the 10th of January Lord Dundonald, at the head of the
Cavalry Brigade, started at dawn from Frere Camp. A few miles
outside they came on targets erected by the Boers to represent a
force advancing in skirmishing order, which showed that the enemy
had evidently been indulging in rifle practice. The troops marched
some twenty-four miles in a north-westerly direction to Springfield,
through the country, which was one vast quagmire beset with the
enemy, without mishap of any kind. There were thrilling moments
when the enemy were known to be ensconced in neighbouring kopjes
or hiding in the bush, but every precaution was taken, the country
having been previously searched by scouts, and the whole movement
so successfully carried out that the brigade at last was able to
occupy a strong position dominating Potgieter’s Drift on the Upper
Tugela. Here at once extra defences were made, to ensure against
surprise from the enemy, who, finding the rivers in flood, had
retired to the north, and to enable Lord Dundonald’s force to
hold its ground, and thus render safe the passage of the river.

Lord Dundonald’s Brigade was accompanied by the Fifth
Brigade under General Hart, comprising the Dublin Fusiliers, the
Connaught Rangers, the Border Regiment, and the Inniskilling
Fusiliers. These, on hearing that Springfield was unoccupied by
the enemy, now took possession of the place.

The column then advanced to Mount Alice, one of the spurs of
Swartz Kop or Black Hill, a rocky eminence which faced the
mountain fastnesses of the foe. From this point the panorama was
magnificent. In front the Tugela looped and twisted in four big
silvery bends, and great kopjes, the scenes of future fights, rose on[Pg 95]
the other side. It was possible to see the flat crowned summit of
Spion Hill, which was held by the Boers and covered with trenches,
and another frowning eminence also held by the enemy. A glimpse,
too, might be had of the distant laager of the Boers perched on
the Tugela heights; but the Dutchmen being evidently warned
of the coming of the British troops, struck camp and silently
melted away. Still it was known that there were some of them
within almost a stone’s throw, for on the arrival of Lord Dundonald’s
force at Potgieter’s Drift it was discovered they had been there the
previous day.

The next morning, the 11th, the pontoon from the enemy’s side
of the river was very cleverly captured, it may be said in the very
teeth of the foe, by Lieutenant Carlyle and six of his men of the
South African Horse. They leapt into the stream, which at that
place was running strong, swam to the Boer side, untied the pont,
and succeeded in getting it across for the use of the troops. The
achievement was a brilliant one, because during the whole proceedings
the exact position of the Boers was unknown. At any
moment a volley might have been poured on the adventurous party
from which it would have been almost impossible to escape. No
sooner had they removed the fastenings of the pont and were
getting it across than shots were fired, one of them grazing Lieutenant
Carlyle, who, however, pursued his work to the end.

From the heights we had gained, operations were soon commenced
both with heliograph and telescope. Mount Bulwana and
part of the outskirts of Ladysmith were clearly visible. Fringed
around them were Boer camps, waggons, and cattle; while studded
over the ground the enemy was seen, some building forts, others
digging trenches, and all working like bees to protect the road from
our advance. The Ladysmith chief signaller, Captain Walker,
rapidly came into communication with the signallers on Swartz
Kop, and Sir George White was informed of the satisfactory progress
of the advance so far.

The Naval guns were now comfortably ensconced on the western
ridge of the hill, ready to do duty in sweeping away the strong
positions which were being rapidly built up by the hostile hordes,
who were fast beginning to congregate from the neighbourhood of
Colenso.

Meanwhile General Lyttelton’s brigade had streamed in with
howitzers, and soon these, under cover of the guns of the Naval
Brigade, were across the river, and safely located on the other side.
At the same time was commenced the fortifying of Mount Alice.
The men were all in great fettle, working like Trojans, and perfectly
regardless of fatigue. They crossed the scudding river, steadying
themselves by holding each other’s rifles, in a burning sun with the[Pg 96]
water up to their waists, and advanced in skirmishing order over
the boulder-strewn country, settling themselves at last on some low
kopjes to the north of the river and facing the enemy’s defences
five miles north of the drift.

While these important events were taking place at Potgieter’s
Drift, General Sir Charles Warren with the 5th Division was also
moving forward by a circuitous route. By another drift, called
Trichardt’s Drift, some five miles farther west, the entire force
eventually got across and took up a position beyond the river, with
the object of turning the position of the enemy, who were posted on
Spion Kop. This journey was not achieved without coming in
touch with the Boers. Some of them were hidden in a wooded
nook by a farmhouse, and from thence poured rifle-shots on the
advance guards. They even brought their cannon to bear on the
troops; but the passage d’armes was of short duration, and the
enemy, warmed with fervent salutations from the Naval guns on the
hills, was soon in full flight across country. Then the engineers,
with celerity which looked to the uninitiated like a conjuring trick, in
two hours threw a pontoon bridge over the river, and the crossing
was successfully accomplished. The great object of Sir Charles
Warren was now, as stated, to turn the enemy’s position. This,
situated about five miles off to his right front, was undoubtedly
a strong one. It ran laterally with the river, with Spion Kop for its
centre, and all around the enemy were actively engaged in intrenching
themselves. The plan of the combined movement was to
make as hasty an attack as possible and prevent the Dutchmen
from strengthening their position and reinforcing their right from their
centre and left, and perhaps enable the Ladysmith garrison to do its
share in threatening the enemy’s rear. For this reason General
Barton, with sufficient troops, had been left at Colenso to hold the
Boers’ forces and prevent them from massing on the line of Sir
Redvers Buller’s march. This latter officer with a small force directed
the combined operations from Spearman’s Farm, a little to the south
of Mount Alice. The headquarters of himself and his staff were at
the picturesque homestead of one Martinius Pretorius, a personage
who thought it advisable not to remain to play the host.

THE CROSSING OF POTGIETER’S DRIFT, JANUARY 16.
Drawn by Enoch Ward from a Full Sketch by René Bull, War Artist with General Buller.

The troops, in spite of their trying march—the mud collected by
tremendous rains, the arduous business of getting across the river,
the grilling sun overhead, and the enemy possibly threatening from
unknown quarters—were bright, healthy, and hopeful. Immense
enthusiasm was occasioned in every camp when all were made
acquainted with the brief yet stirring words of Sir Redvers Buller:
“We are going to the relief of our comrades in Ladysmith; there
will be no turning back.” A short emphatic statement this—blunt
as the conversation of the man who made it, but instinct with noble[Pg 97]
meaning—of superb resolve! It touched every heart, and made
each bronzed-face warrior repeat once more to himself the oath to
do or die for the honour of his country and for the service of those
to be relieved!

THE FLANK MOVEMENT

Before going further, it is interesting to examine with the map
a rough hint made by Mr. Winston Churchill, correspondent of the
Morning Post, of the general plan of the advance.

Types of Arms—A Mountain Battery.
(Drawn by Ernest Prater.)

“Having placed his army within striking distance of the various
passages across the Tugela, Sir Redvers Buller’s next object was to
cross and debouch. To this end his plan appears to have been—for
information is scarcely yet properly codified—something as follows:
Lyttleton’s Brigade, the corps troops forming Coke’s Brigade, the
ten Naval guns, the battery of howitzers, one field-battery, and
Bethune’s Mounted Infantry to demonstrate in front of the Potgieter
position, keeping the Boers holding the horseshoe in expectation
of a frontal attack and masking their main position; Sir
Charles Warren to march by night from Springfield with the
brigades of Hart, Woodgate, and Hildyard, the Royal Dragoons,
six batteries of artillery, and the pontoon train to a point about five[Pg 98]
miles west of Spearman’s Hill, and opposite Trichardt’s Drift on the
Tugela. Here he was to meet the mounted forces from Spearman’s
Hill, and with these troops he was next day, the 17th, to throw
bridges, force the passage of the river, and operate at leisure and
discretion against the right flank of the enemy’s horseshoe before
Potgieter’s, resting on Spion Kop, a commanding mountain, ultimately
joining hands with the frontal force from Spearman’s Hill at
a point on the Acton Homes Ladysmith road. To sum up briefly,
seven battalions, twenty-two guns, and three hundred horse under
Lyttleton to mask the Potgieter position; twelve battalions, thirty-six
guns, and sixteen hundred horse to cross five miles to the westward,
and make a turning movement against the enemy’s right.
The Boer covering army was to be swept back on Ladysmith by a
powerful left arm, the pivoting shoulder of which was at Potgieter’s,
the elbow at Trichardt’s Drift, and the enveloping hand—the
cavalry under Lord Dundonald—stretching out towards Acton
Homes.”

This plan on the surface appeared fairly practicable if the
action could be carried on with sufficient rapidity to prevent the
enemy from gathering in his crowds, as he had gathered at Colenso.
Here was the great—If. The art of war is at best a choice of
difficulties, and at this time our Generals had an embarrassment of
that choice. It says a great deal for their courage that they handled
these difficulties one after another, and let go only when they thought
they had been squeezed dry.

The British troops having done with the fatigue of the march,
did not allow the grass to grow under their feet. No sooner
had they crossed the river than they began to threaten some
of the Boer lines of retreat to the Free State. The Naval
Brigade also set to work with vigour, and they, together with
the howitzers from Mount Alice, pounded the whole vicinity
to the right impartially. The range having been ascertained to a
nicety, with the assistance of the balloon, whose occupants directed
the gunners, some effective shots were launched at the Boer entrenchments,
and others which were rapidly in course of construction.
From the balloon these were plainly visible, but their tenants,
if tenants there were, vouchsafed no reply. Many mounted Boers
were seen galloping from Colenso to their laagers in the shelter of
the more northerly kopjes, while others were also discovered
coming in the direction from Ladysmith, evidently with a view to
reinforce the commandoes on Spion Kop. While the Naval
Brigade was hammering in the direction of the Boer position, which
was somewhat below the level of Mount Alice, General Lyttleton
was moving north of the position for the purpose of making a
demonstration towards Brakfontein, and Sir Charles Warren’s force[Pg 99]
was approaching two high kopjes overlooking a ravine behind
Spion Hill. It was now the 18th of January. The cavalry
started in advance of the rest of the force. The order of march
being, first, the Composite Regiment (one squadron of Imperial
Light Horse, sixty Rifles Mounted Infantry, one squadron Natal
Carabineers), four squadrons South African Light Horse, Thorneycroft’s
Mounted Infantry, and behind these the Royals and 13th
Hussars. But the Composite Regiment at midday was found to
have moved still farther west, and soon from that region came an
ominous crackling. Something deadly was afoot. It appeared
that a party of Boers was caught trekking by the Acton Homes
Road towards the Free State, and was in act of being cut off.
Firing was fast and furious, and presently dead and dying Boers
besprinkled the field that a few moments before had been green
and gracious to the eye. A message was sent to the main body
demanding reinforcements. Promptly Lord Dundonald with the
rest of his troops came on the scene. Hostilities grew in animation—the
situation was desperate. The Boers made a hard fight of it,
clung tenaciously to their position, refusing, though surrounded, to
surrender. Their fire rained furiously down on the Rifles as they
advanced, so furiously that they were forced to seek the shelter of a
desirable donga. The obstinate combat was on the point of renewal
when up went a white flag. The old dodge, one to which now our
troops had become so accustomed that they scarcely heeded it.
Both sides continued to blaze away in uncertainty and mistrust till
presently hands flew up, and this sincerest and distinct sign of surrender
was accepted. Twenty-four burly Boers were then captured, while,
round about, the wounded of the foe were assiduously succoured and
tended by the very men who in the race for dear life had stricken
them down. Twenty-four captured, ten killed, eight wounded—such
was the result of a few hours’ work on the enemy. Of our number,
Captain Shore of the Imperial Light Horse was severely wounded,
two soldiers of the Mounted Infantry were killed, and one trooper of
the Imperial Light Horse was slightly injured.

A word must be said of the South African Light Horse or
“Cockyoli Birds,” as they were jocosely styled in deference to the
plumes in their headgear. These had become the heroes of the
hour owing to the splendid action formerly mentioned of Lieutenant
Carlyle and his plucky companions, Sergeant Turner, Corporals
Cox and Barkley, and Troopers Howell, Godden, and Collingwood.
In addition to this plucky feat they were ceaseless in their activity,
as we shall afterwards see.

Before this date the men of the squadron had been much commented
on and universally praised. Their dash, their aptness, their
marvellous intelligence had earned the admiration of all the regulars[Pg 100]
who had been associated with them. They, in their neat kharki,
looked as efficient a body of mounted infantry as any one could wish
to come across. Among their numbers were Afrikanders of good
birth, Canadians, Australians, gentlemen of means, sporting men,
old soldiers, and the like. They were hard as nails and bronzed as
their saddles, acute as weasels, and big-hearted and adventurous
as any of Robin Hood’s world-famed merry men. If they were
rough they were ready, sniffing adventure in the air and rushing hot-foot
to greet it, or stalking warily like old Shikari, saving no pains
so that they eventually brought down their quarry.

The engagement was a grand feather in the cap of the cavalry,
and an additional one in that of the “Cockyoli Birds.”

On the morning of Saturday the 20th of January Sir Charles
Warren advanced his whole force to the attack. The scheme had
been thought out with immense care. There was an excellent
general with a superb division of troops, and there was every chance
of success. General Woodgate’s and General Hart’s brigades
marched forward at 3 A.M. from their bivouac on the low ridges
below Spion Kop, with a view to capturing a position called Three
Tree Hill, so called because of three mimosa trees whose fragrance
filled the air. The proceedings opened with an animated bombardment
from all quarters, our guns in the neighbourhood of Potgieter’s
and Tritchardt’s Drifts engaging the attention of the Boers. By this
time the Dutchmen were powerfully intrenched, and were still
hurrying and scurrying to protect the big mountain that stood between
the British and the object of their desire—Ladysmith. Woodgate’s
Brigade had pushed forward in this direction. Later Hart’s
Brigade took up a position on the spur parallel to the left of the
Lancashire Brigade, and, under cover of the field-guns, the troops,
in the thick of a storm from rifles and artillery, fought their way
almost inch by inch up the steeps held by the Boers. They finally
succeeded in gaining some portions of the enemy’s line of intrenchments.
But this was not achieved without an exhibition of pluck
and valiant obstinacy that was heroic.

ROYAL FIELD ARTILLERY (ACTION FRONT).
Photo by Gregory & Co., London.

The Irish Brigade, as usual, were in the thick of the fight, jovial
yet determined, and holding their grip of every inch they gained
notwithstanding shadows of threatened dissolution, the sights of
death and sounds of horror that filled the air. Captain Hensley, a
brave and gallant soul, was shot through the head, and several
officers were smitten, but still their valorous commander, waving his
sword, pressed on, and still his sturdy Irishmen, animated, encouraged,
confident, pursued their upward way. They had debts to
settle—some old scores to wipe out. They remembered their
hideous disappointment of Colenso, their grievous experiences of
Dundee, and also they remembered—a far grander remembrance[Pg 101]!—that
the honour of the Emerald Isle rested on their shoulders,
and that the quality of its loyalty stood proved by the quality of
their famous deeds!

All around played the fierce fire of the enemy’s guns, Creusot,
Maxim, Nordenfeldt, and others. These were posted in commanding
positions on a chain of hills to the west of Spion Hill, and from various
points of vantage the Dutchmen were able to keep up a ceaseless
clamour, and pour a rapid torrent of death and mutilation upon the
advancing troops. These, by reason of the bad ground and the caution
required in the manner of approach, could travel but slowly. The
enemy, owing to the delay in our advance, had increased their forces
most unexpectedly, and seemed, though scarcely to have existed a
week ago, to be now ubiquitous! During the afternoon General
Lyttleton’s Brigade made a frontal attack on the Dutchmen’s
position between Schwartz Kop and Spion Kop, to divert their
attention pending the movements of Sir Charles Warren. This
movement, it was imagined, had been kept very “dark,” but, in
spite of the secrecy and caution, the agile foe had contrived again to
concentrate a huge force to oppose his every turn. More artillery
seemed continuously to be brought to the scene, and also some of
the trophies captured in the ill-fated attack on Colenso. Our Naval
guns bombarded the ridge all day, and the howitzers boomed and
roared, but the whole place appeared to be bustling with Boers.
On the extreme left Lord Dundonald engaged in more energetic
demonstration, and the indefatigable South African Light Horse,
under Colonel Byng, more than ever distinguished themselves. In
the most gallant manner they captured Bastion Hill, a hill between
the Dutch right and centre.

This hill in the hands of the Boers was a standing menace, as
from thence they could direct a cross-fire at the infantry on the
opposite spur of the big mountain. Major Childe, commanding
F Squadron, South African Light Horse, decided that he, and not
the Federals, must secure so important a vantage-point. Dismounting
with his men, and leaving his horses in rear of the heights, he
cautiously crept round through a mealie field and various dongas
which gave him cover from the storm of shot directed from the
curve of the hills. In spite of the pelting lead, he got to the base
of the position in safety. Then, with half the squadron, he started
laboriously to climb. It was tough work, the sugar-loaf eminence
being steep and stony and the sun above blisteringly hot. Thus
they sweated and toiled for a whole hour. Finally, the Boers were
seen scampering from the top. They had detected the approach of
men—bayonets were suspected—they discreetly bolted. Just then
Trooper Tobin, who had grandly led the way up the precipitous
height, had reached his goal. Here he stood in his delight and[Pg 102]
triumph waving his helmet and shouting, and quite regardless of the
fact that he made an excellent mark for Boer sharpshooters or their
mercenaries. Up, too, rushed Major Childe with a dozen or so of his
nimble men, into the midst of a tornado of shot and shell which had
suddenly started from the Boer left and centre. Promptly every
one went to earth. It was useless at the moment to attempt to return
so withering a fire. Then came a shell—bursting and banging—and
the gallant Major was caught on the head and killed. Several
others were slain, among them Godden, who had been one of the
gallant seven who distinguished themselves in the pont exploit.
Shattered by the terrible fire of artillery, breathless from past
exertions, the troops still hung on. Then our own artillery came
to the rescue and kept the Boer gunners occupied. Meanwhile,
reinforcements from Hildyard’s Brigade were sent up to the help of
the brave fellows who for twelve hours had been without rest or
water, and on the following day, to the West Surreys, the cavalry,
after a tremendous and fatiguing experience, handed over the charge
of the hill which they had so magnificently gained. The losses
during this complex series of engagements were many, but the
sufferings due to hunger, heat, thirst, and fatigue were even greater
than those due to actual wounds.

The Lancashire Fusiliers, Lancashire Regiment, and the Dublin
Fusiliers lost most during the day. Their wounded numbered about
350 officers and men. These troops had a peculiarly trying time, as for
three whole days previously they had remained on some captured hills,
sun-baked and fired on promiscuously, while at night, when the temperature
had run down with its customary rapidity, they had found
themselves chilled to the bone, with no blankets or overcoats to
cover them. They had about two hours’ sleep on an average per
night and very little to eat during the day. From 3 A.M. on the 20th
the Lancashires had taken up a position screened behind a string of
low kopjes, while the artillery on the right battered and pounded at
the Boer earthworks in front and half-left and half-right. The troops
had remained quiet and painfully inactive in the sweltering sun for
many hours, stray bullets whistling round their ears, and, as one of
the officers said, “causing great levity among the men.” At 1.30
they had begun to advance. Immediately they showed their heads
they were caught by a hailstorm of bullets, and seven men dropped.
Rushing dauntlessly on, they made for the shelter of a ring of rocks
some 150 yards in advance, remained for some ten minutes or so,
then pushed forward another 400 yards, losing less men and taking
a lesson in caution from the Boers. Thus, in short energetic
rushes, they had managed to get within 900 yards of the enemy.
On the top of the hillock a perfect deluge of bullets descended,
and though the General had moved some 400 forward, so[Pg 103]
quickly were the men hit that only thirty or so could use their
rifles.

Afterwards the order was given to make breastworks, and there
was a rush into the open to gather stones and rocks and boulders,
when more men were stricken down. All the wounded could do
was to creep to a rock in the rear, and there await the turn of events.
Some lay as they crawled from 3 to 8.30 at night. It was impossible
for them to be removed from the hill, as the Boers promptly fired
on the stretcher-bearers. The sights and sounds were heart-rending.
On one side was seen a man sent to his last account in a
breath; on another was one still hobbling along and plying his rifle,
with both ankles smashed. Here lay a poor fellow who had a
splinter of rock driven clean through his lungs and out at his back;
there languished another shot through the eye and brain—hopeless.
All of them suffered patiently, but were madly athirst, craving for the
hour when the sun should go down and they might get a chance of
removal from the awful scene. And yet there were some, wounded
too, who bore the long hours with amazing cheeriness. One,
shot in the leg, lay on his back, drew forth his home letters, and
perused them in the midst of a deadly fusillade. Another, more
seriously wounded still, had the audacity to beguile the weary
moments by taking a “snap-shot” at General Hart in the act of
waving his sword and gesticulating. So much for pluck!

After sundown came the moment so longed for by the
wretched beings, some of whom were now literally glued to earth
in their own gore. But their miseries were not yet at an end. It
took some two hours to go three-quarters of a mile in the darkness
over the bad ground; there were creeks, and dongas, and
boulders everywhere. No lights were allowed. In the jetty obscurity
the Samaritans tripped and stumbled. “I was only dropped
twice,” smiled a wounded youth when he was at last safely borne
towards the stretcher-bearers. Others at intervals were brought in
soaked with blood and rain, the hot stream and the cold mingling
uncannily and to their supreme discomfort. Many who were
wounded soon after midday only succeeded in reaching the field-hospital
about half-past twelve at night. Some, more pathetic still,
did not reach it at all! They had patiently waited till past the need
of assistance!

Very pathetic were the circumstances attending the fall of Major
Childe. It was said that on the previous day he had had forebodings
of disaster, so much so that he even begged of his companions, in
the event of his death, to put on his grave his chosen quotation, “Is
it well with the child? It is well.” This dying wish was faithfully
carried out. His burial took place on the day after the engagement,
Lord Dundonald reading the solemn words of the funeral[Pg 104]
service. Over his roughly-made grave was placed the gallant
officer’s name, the date of his death, and the text he had desired to
have written on his tomb.

On the following day the fight was waged as fiercely as ever so
far as artillery was concerned. Six field-batteries and four howitzers
bombarded the enemy’s position with tremendous vigour, and inflicted
considerable loss. The Boer rifles were indefatigable, however,
and continued their fiendish activity, and the Dutch or German
gunners maintained their excellent practice with scarcely a moment’s
cessation.

While General Woodgate made a demonstration on the right,
General Hart and his brigade continued to advance, and General
Hildyard’s troops joined in the attack from the valley past the right
of Bastion Hill. Here a cleft appeared to open between the right and
centre of the Boer position, and here the infantry, pushing on, practically
divided the position in two; but it was found that the second
line of defence was a formidable one; that the Boers had secured to
themselves a magnificent point of vantage, whence they could sweep
the country and command all the approaches with cross-fire, and
even with converging fire; but, in spite of this, the troops tenaciously
retained the positions they had gained, remaining there
throughout the 22nd and 23rd, partially covered, so that in all their
loss was inconsiderable.

The following officers were wounded in action near Venter’s
Spruit on the 20th of January:—

Staff—Colonel B. Hamilton, Major C. M’Grigor. 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers—Captain
R. B. Blunt, Second Lieut. M. G. Crofton, Second Lieut. E. I. M.
Barret. 1st Border Regiment—Captain E. D. Vaughan, Second Lieut. Muriel.
1st York and Lancaster Regiment—Second Lieut. A. H. Kearsey. 2nd Dublin
Fusiliers—Captain C. A. Hensley (since dead), Major F. English. 2nd Gordon
Highlanders—Second Lieut. P. D. Stewart. Non-commissioned officers and
men, 279. Royal West Surrey Regiment—Second Lieut. Du Buisson. 16th
Lancers (Staff)—Captain Dallas.

SPION KOP

On Tuesday the 23rd, the continuous and steady assault of the
Boer position seemed to be reaching a promising climax. For four
days on the heights above the Venter Spruit the English and
Irish Brigades had been doggedly moving up and on, and had
carried one position after another in the teeth of many guns, and in
the face of discomforts and discouragements multifarious. They
had achieved a great deal with comparatively small loss, viewing the
masterly manner in which the Boer guns were served. Fortunately
the rifle-fire of the foe was not equal in accuracy to their shell-fire,
most probably for the reason that the bucolic Dutchman had lost
his ancient cunning in wielding the rifle, while in the management[Pg 105]
of guns of position he was assisted—nay, relieved, by his German
mercenaries. The astonishing dexterity of the Teutonic specialists in
planting shells accurately at a range of over 3000 yards was a matter
for marvel and admiration. Their success was attributed partly to
the fact that the range had previously been marked, and also that
spots had been selected over which it was known bodies of troops
must eventually pass, and where it was certain every shot must be
made to tell. For all that, and considering the cross-fire to which
the troops were subjected on the opening days of Sir Charles
Warren’s attack, the losses were small. A council of war had
been held, and three courses had been sifted: first, a frontal attack
by night on the second Boer position, possibly attended by terrible
loss; second, retirement beyond the river to seek for a new passage;
third, attack by night on the mountain of Spion Kop, thence to
enfilade and dominate all the Boer positions.

TAKING THE 4·7 NAVAL GUN ACROSS THE TUGELA.
Drawing by J. Finnemore.

The last course was decided on. Spion Kop was to be
attacked by night, the Boer trenches to be scooped out with the
point of the bayonet, and the position held till again—by night—guns
could be dragged up to assist in commanding the position of
the foe. Spion Kop, the extreme left of the Boer position, once
fortified, would become a key to the door of Ladysmith. So it was
thought.

General Woodgate was informed of what was required of him,
and Colonel Thorneycroft discussed the programme of the night
attack. By his desire, satisfactory reconnaissances had been made,
and there was every reason to believe that the attempt would be
crowned with success. Accordingly, soon after midnight, General
Woodgate, accompanied by Colonel àCourt, started forth with the
2nd Lancashire Fusiliers, the Royal Lancaster Regiment, a portion
of Thorneycroft’s Horse, and half a company Royal Engineers,
supported by two companies of the Connaught Rangers and by the
Imperial Light Infantry.

In pitch darkness the troops began their march up the southern
slope of the giant mountain called Thaba Emunyama. The steeps
were precipitous and rocky, and had to be negotiated with extreme
care. Dongas were on this side, boulders on that; these had to be
crept through and leapt over with stealthy, cat-like tread lest the
enemy on the summit should be forewarned. Now and then the
whirr of a bullet showed that the Dutchmen were awake, and were
indulging in the pastime of sniping; otherwise the still, purple night
spoke of peace. Led by General Woodgate and Colonel Blomfield,
the Fusiliers (who, being seasoned fighters, were specially selected
for the honour of engaging in “ticklish” work) ascended softly,
advancing higher and higher in single file and in cautious silence.
When more than half-way up, the approaching multitude was[Pg 106]
discovered, and the Boer picket, firing, fled. But the warrior
crowd pressed on, Colonel Thorneycroft now leading the way,
firing never a shot, and waiting till the trusty bayonet should
teach its lesson. At three o’clock the summit was reached. The
rain drizzled down, the clouds wrapt the hill, but the ardour of the
troops was unabated. With a wild, ringing cheer, which echoed far
over the hills, the position was carried. The force then proceeded
to fortify itself so far as was possible in the hard and rocky ground
that covered the heights.

It must here be noted that, owing to the darkness and the
impossibility of judging exact distances, the trenches that were dug
were badly situated. Instead of the whole or most part of the
triangular tableland of the top, the force occupied merely a cramped
position on the extreme point. This point was already marked and
commanded by six Boer guns, while on the very hill itself was
another hostile weapon. Sneaking around the crust of the kop—on
the brim, as it were, while we occupied the crown—were sharpshooters
and snipers, who from thence could pelt the northern hump of the
slope; but in the dense atmosphere of the early morning these facts
were unknown, and the effort, under cover of the darkness, to widen
our position and capture the entire triangle was not then made.

Sketch and Plan of the Battle of Spion Kop.
Made on the spot by Lieutenant E. B. Knox of the Royal Army Medical Corps.

While the hazy blue pall of the morning yet hung over the hills
the trenches near the crest were occupied. The clouds hung low, and
not a Dutchman was to be seen. For some time the troops were
protected by the enshrouding mist, but so soon as it cleared, the
Boers from their posts opened fire. They realised that the position
to them was virtually one of life or death. Ping! ping! rang the
rifles in chorus; bong! bong! went the guns, with a deep basso
that reverberated in the hollows of the hills. It was an awe-striking
reveillé. The hostile artillery had the range to a nicety; each shell
followed the other with precision, and burst with terrific uproar on
the patch of earthworks held by our infantry. Under this fearful
fusillade our men, pelted yet undismayed, faithfully held their ground
for two mortal hours. But the shell-fire made horrible gaps in the
stalwart company; and by-and-by General Woodgate, who, having
captured the position, still continued to direct and encourage his
men, was wounded, Colonel Blomfield, of the 2nd Lancashire
Fusiliers, took over command, and sent for reinforcements. He
also fell. Then, by reason of merit rather than of seniority,
Major Thorneycroft, local lieutenant-colonel, was appointed to take
the place of the disabled chief. With the rising of the sun, with the
development of day, developed the battle. Shrapnel from 15-pounders
sprayed hither and thither; lyddite opened out earth-umbrellas
far and wide. The roar and the roll of fiends in fury
rent the clear, mimosa-scented atmosphere, and made even the[Pg 107]
bosom of the placid, silvery river shudder and quake as it wound
and twisted and looped round Potgieter’s Drift. For three and a
half hours the tornado pursued its deadly course. Death—mutilation—agony—thirst—these
were more prominent than the word
glory in that long, immemorial period. Officers and men alike[Pg 108]
could scarce lift a head lest they should meet the doom that hung
over every creature that dared to stand upright in the murderous
arena. They crouched, and took cover, and waited. The Boers,
seeing their advantage, noting the terrible strain on the men that
held the captured trenches, and the dance of death among Thorneycroft’s
Mounted Infantry, also bided their time. With great caution
and “slimness” they finally commenced to creep up nearer and
nearer, firing the while, and hoping, when things became a shade
worse, to rush the position. Unfortunately there were no guns to
rout the adventurous crew—not one handy Naval 12-pounder to
sweep the enemy from the plateau. There they were, and there
they meant to remain. Major-General Coke’s brigade had started
to get to the scene of action, and before long the Middlesex,
Dorset, and Somerset Regiments were moving up the heights to
the assistance of the battered regiments above. Major Walters, in
charge of the ambulance, was also carrying out his grim, unusually
heavy duties, but he, in the midst of his deeds of mercy, was
caught by a shot and brought to earth.

By this time the glorious Lancashire Fusiliers, who held the
captured trenches, had suffered most severely, not only from wounds,
but from the agonies of thirst, for which there was no remedy.
Their losses were horrible, and so also were those of Thorneycroft’s
Mounted Infantry, and they lay in many cases too far removed for the
ambulance-bearers to reach them, and in too exposed a position for
help from any around. Indeed, the state of affairs was so lamentable,
the Boers forcing their way with such persistency, that the
question of holding the hill hung by a thread. Three times before
midday had the Dutchmen returned, driven the Britons back, and
again been driven back themselves, till the ups and downs of the fight
became like a perilous game of see-saw, none daring to prognosticate
the conclusion. From noon till the late afternoon the Boers persisted
in their desperate efforts to retake the crest of the hill. They
evidently regarded the position of so much importance that reinforcements
from their right were drawn away to help in the work. But the
gallant fellows who were in possession hung doggedly to their prize.
“Only a day,” they said; “a day’s more endurance, and to-morrow we
shall mount guns. We shall be rulers of the roost.” So they fought
on with a will. Fortunately, at this time they had no premonition
of impediments to success. The place turned out to be very difficult
to hold. Its perimeter was large, and water was exceedingly scarce,
and their ammunition, moreover, gave out at a critical period.

All these discoveries were gradually and painfully made as the
day wore on, but nevertheless they resisted the assaults of the
enemy with herculean vigour—with courage that was Spartan.

For two hours in the afternoon the scene on the summit of the[Pg 109]
kop was terrific. A hurricane of shot and shell swept the crest—it
became a seething Inferno. Six quick-firing guns, two Hotchkiss
guns, and numerous other weapons of more or less deadliness played
upon the troops. Maimed and dying were being carried off as fast
as possible. General Woodgate, brave as a lion, who had worked
like a Trojan till struck down by a piece of shell, refused to leave.
Usually a placid man, he was now irrepressible, protesting that he
would remain on the field, though his sufferings—since he was
shot over the left eye—must have been severe. Reinforcements
had now arrived—the Middlesex, Dorsets, and Somersets—the
plateau was crowded—overcrowded, some say—and death was
taking a full meal. The Boer Maxim-Nordenfeldt, which had done
its fell work at Colenso, perambulated from position to position with
insatiable greed, preying on the life-blood of our bravest and best,
and defying the efforts of our gunners below to locate it. Its work,
and the work of the Mausers, lay everywhere—the hill was a
shambles. Major Walters, chief of the Natal Volunteer Ambulance,
had dropped; his brother, of the 2nd Scottish Rifles, was
killed; Captain Murray, of the same regiment, was simply riddled
with bullets—he received as many as four, yet persisted in leading
on his men till struck down mortally. Colonel Buchanan Riddell,
King’s Royal Rifles, another hero, was slain later, while directing
a flanking movement. The turmoil of those exciting hours was
described by an officer:—

“I crawled along a little way with half my company, and then
brought up others in the same manner. The men of the different
regiments already on the hill were mixed up, and ours met the same
fate. It was impossible, under the circumstances, to keep regimental
control. One unit merged into another; one officer gave
directions to this or that unit, or to another battalion. I saw some
tents on the far side of the hill to our front, and knowing the enemy
must be there, opened with volleys at 1800 yards, when we saw a
puff of smoke, indicating that one of the Boer guns had just fired.
We lay prone, and could only venture a volley now and again, firing
independently at times when the shower of bullets seemed to fall
away, and the shells did not appear likely to land specially amongst
us. Everywhere, however, it was practically the same deadly smash
of shells, mangling and killing all about us. The only troops actually
close to me then were a party of the Lancashire Fusiliers inside
a schanze, F Company of the Middlesex, and a mixed company of
other troops on the left front. A good many shells from the big
guns burst near us, and a lance-corporal of the Fusiliers was killed.
The only point I could see rifle-fire proceeding from was a trench,
the third, I believe, occupied by our troops on the right, and looking
towards Spearman’s.[Pg 110]

“Presently I heard a great deal of shouting from this trench,
in which were about fifty men. They were calling for reinforcements,
and shouting, ‘The Boers are coming up.’ Two or three
minutes afterwards I saw a party of about forty Boers walking
towards the trench. They came up quite coolly; most of them
had their rifles slung, and all, so far as I could observe, had their
hands up. Our men in the trench—they were Fusiliers—were then
standing up also, with their hands up, and shouting, ‘The Boers
are giving in, the Boers are giving in.’ I did not know what to
think, but ordered a company of my regiment to fix bayonets. We
waited to see what would happen. Just then, when the Boers were
close to the trench, some one—whether an enemy or one of our
men—fired a shot. In an instant there was a general stampede,
or rather a mêlée, my men rushing from their position and charging,
while the Boers fired at the men in the trench, knocking several
back into it, dead. Previous to this a Boer came towards me
saying, ‘I won’t hurt you.’ He looked frightened, and threw down
his rifle. Immediately afterwards the Boer fired, and there was
a frightful muddle. I fired at one Boer, and then another passed.
We were fighting hand to hand. I shot the Boer in order to help
the man, and he dropped, clinging, however, to his rifle as he fell,
and covering me most carefully. He fired, and I fell like a rabbit,
the bullet going in just over and grazing the left lung. I lay where
I fell until midnight. Subsequent to my being hit, parties of Boers
passed twice over me, trying on the same trick, holding up their
hands, as if they were asking for quarter. But our men refused
to be taken in again, and fired, killing or driving them back.”

In this fight the Dutchmen were unusually obstinate. Over and
over again they advanced to within seventy yards of the captured
trenches, and from thence were only routed at the point of the
bayonet. Their rushes were most valiant and persistent, and
nothing but the heroism of officers and men could have withstood
the overwhelming nature of the attack made upon them.

But dodges with the white flag and other frauds continued to be
practised by the Boers. Colonel Thorneycroft escaped merely by an
accident from an endeavour to play a trick upon him. The leader of
a commando facing Thorneycroft’s Horse advanced with a white flag.
The Colonel approached to the parley, but being suspicious, he told
the leader to go back, as he refused to confer with him. Both
retired, but before the Colonel could return to his regiment a volley
was poured on him by the enemy. Another and more curious trick
was practised on some of the privates. They were approached by an
officer in kharki and directed to follow him to a better position.
This they began to do till, at last, seeing themselves being led into
the jaws of the enemy, they halted, and some one demanded to know[Pg 111]
who this bogus officer might be. At that moment the party was
met by a storm of Boer bullets, and scarcely a man came whole
from the adventure. Fortunately, the miscreant—an Austrian—who
had played the trick on them was bayoneted ere all our gallant
fellows dropped down. Strange, too, was the fate of gallant Colonel
Blomfield, whose regiment, one of the smartest of the smart
regiments present, had done such splendid work, and had held on
to its post to the bitter end. This officer was wounded early in
the day, as already recorded, and lay in a trench helpless and fainting
for hours and beyond the reach of help. Finally, he was able to
crawl out and make his way down the side of the hill—down the
wrong side, unluckily for himself—and when next he was heard of
he was a prisoner in Pretoria. That his life was saved at all was a
marvel. Captain Tidswell, on seeing his Colonel wounded, rushed
out with Sergeant Lightfoot and dragged him under a heavy fire
into a trench, where he remained till the action was over.

Plan of Engagement at Spion Kop.

During the early part of the day the Scottish Rifles and the
3rd Battalion of the King’s Royal Rifles had been sent off to
storm the kopjes forming an extension of Spion Kop, and thus
occupy the enemy and relieve the pressure of his attack. The
river was forded at Kaffir Drift by Colonel Buchanan Riddell’s[Pg 112]
troops, and soon after the battalion divided, half being led by the
Colonel to the right, and half under Major Bewicke-Copley
advancing to the left, of the objective. The enemy was everywhere—at
the base of the kopjes and in the trenches up the sides.
Still the troops advanced. The Dutchmen were shifted upwards
inch by inch from their defences. The best cold Sheffield glittered
near the trenches, and—the trenches were vacated! Up and up
moved the Boers, on and on went the Rifles—on and up, rushing
wildly, gallantly, charging and cheering, and finally gaining the
crest!

Meanwhile the Scottish Rifles had advanced on Spion Kop.
Nothing could exceed the smartness with which they scaled the
steeps. They marched straight to the front firing line, and, in
a word, saved the situation. No sooner did the enemy show
his nose than the Scottish Rifles held him in check, and over
and over again showed him that British tenacity was equal to
both Boer stubbornness and slimness combined. The enemy could
make no headway against them.

But the gallant action of the King’s Royal Rifles was one of the
grand deeds that end in the ineffectual. The battalion in its triumph
had pressed the Boers upwards, but on doing so became practically
isolated. The Boers were above and between them and our own
troops, and as a result of its too forward movement the regiment
stood in peril. Seeing their position of jeopardy, orders were sent
up to retire. It was disgusting, heart-breaking, but it had to be
done. The glorious company, after capturing two positions, slowly,
reluctantly, moved down the hill they had ascended in the flush of
triumph—moved again to their bivouac, sadder and wiser men.
But they were only the first of many sad and sorry men that day.
Meanwhile the battle on the great hill raged continuously, and
shells, not alone those of the enemy, but those of our own guns
which had attempted to assist, made the crowded kop a “veritable
hell.”

GOING OUT TO THE ATTACK ON SPION KOP ON JANUARY 24.
Drawing by R. Caton Woodville.

Presently, in the late afternoon a still more serious situation
presented itself. Water, always scarce, threatened to run short
altogether. Ammunition failed. A more appalling quandary in
the drama of war can scarcely be imagined. Fortunately, to the
relief of the plucky band on the heights, at last came a mule-train
with much-desired water and cartridges, and the fight was pursued
in more auspicious circumstances. But the Boer guns lost none
of their persistency. Shells hurtled over the plateau, and as dusk
set in, regiments and battalions and such officers as were left were
mixed up in a surging, stumbling mêlée, wounded men firing last shots
at the darkness, and hale ones dropping helpless as the blaze from
the bursting projectiles showed, for one moment, the scene of agony.[Pg 113]

When night made further activity impossible the position of
affairs came under discussion. Was this sorry game worth the vast,
the costly candle that was being expended—that yet might have to
be expended? One commanding officer said “Yes!” another said
“No!” It is stated that the decision rested with Colonel Crofton.
He argued in favour of withdrawal. The troops were terribly mauled;
the dead lay in crowds, a ghastly testimony of their impetuous
courage. It had been found impossible to secure good cover against
the enemy’s shrapnel and venomous, unceasing quick-firers. There
had scarcely been time for the raking of rifle-pits, the construction of
stone defences—the guns of the foe had been too active and unceasing—and
besides this, the troops were unaccustomed to the
sly art of crouching to cover. While the Colonial crawled like
a stalker along dongas and through gulleys to get at his quarry,
the hardy Briton always exposed himself as though pluck demanded
that he should make a mark of himself. As some one at the time
expressed it, “Their courage is incontestable, their methods absurd.”
For this reason many of the trenches that our soldiers had so
grandly defended became in the end their graves. The number of
slain was appalling to see. The flower of the country lay struck
down as the grass beneath the scythe of the reaper. It was a
harvest of blood. The dead lay literally in stacks, the sole protection
of their living comrades. Crowds upon crowds had pressed
to the top of the great hill, offering a thick, compact front to the
guns of the enemy, an imposing target to the horrible shells that
merely breathed death as they passed. Liberally as the brigades
exposed themselves, liberally they paid the penalty.

Late in the evening, guns—Naval guns and a battery—toiled
towards the scene, rattling along through the night air to get
into position for the morrow, and take revenge, though late, on the
devastating “pom-poms” of the foe. But the die was cast. The
withdrawal had begun. At 7.30 P.M. Colonel Thorneycroft gave
the word. Slowly and in confused fashion the shattered braves
began to wind downwards, and by nine the summit of the hill was
almost deserted.

Pitiable were the circumstances of the retirement. The wounded,
with staggering footsteps, crawled or crept down the mountain-side,
reeling from loss of blood and exhaustion. Streams of officers and
knots of men scrambled along calling for their units and finding
them not. Drowsy, stupefied beings stumbled through dongas and
broke their ankles against boulders, trying before they dropped to
come in touch with their fellow-men. Many wandered aimlessly,
twining the hill and passing over it into the hands of the enemy.
Battalion was mixed with battalion, company with company. Dazed
men searched in vain for the rendezvous. Some cursed, some swore,[Pg 114]
some slept or seemed to sleep. One commanding officer sat helplessly
on the spur of the hill, staring like a somnambulist, deaf to all
consciousness of the outer world; another, lying among the trenches,
was given up for dead.

The losses were terrific. The Royal Engineers, in some cases,
were riddled with bullets. Major Massey died covered with wounds.
Lieutenant Falcon, 17th Company, had arms, legs, knees, and
helmet perforated with lead. In fact, no one has been able very
clearly to describe in its hideous reality the awful picture of the
battle of Spion Kop. A great holocaust some called it, and with
truth, for the mountain from morn till night was literally scourged
with lead, raked in all directions by Maxim-Nordenfeldts, artillery,
and musketry. The tale is only writ in the wounds and on the
graves of those who by a miracle took the summit, and by sheer grit
held it in the face of overwhelming odds. Over a thousand men
gave their lives to gain that which, in twenty hours—hours each
one crowded with moments of heroism—had to be abandoned. The
evacuation was carried out by order of Colonel Thorneycroft, one
of the most valiant of the many valiant men who went up only to
come down again. The excellence of his reasons was acknowledged,
and his personal valour was beyond dispute. His authority for
action was the sole source of debate. A military correspondent
of the Daily Telegraph related an incident of the fight which
served to show what manner of commander had taken the place
made vacant by the wounding of General Woodgate. Some men,
about a score, who had lost their officers, threw down their
arms to surrender, but Thorneycroft, seeing the act, rushed out
to the front and called to the Boers to go on firing, for he commanded
on the hill, and he alone would give the word to surrender.
The Boers promptly responded. The officer went on to say,
“Luckily a fresh regiment arrived at our side and restored the
battle, but Thorneycroft undoubtedly saved a dreadful disaster
by conduct so gallant that it recalls the old story of Messieurs de
la Garde Française, tirez.”

Acts of gallantry were so numerous that V.C.’s were surely
earned by the dozen. Lieutenant Mallock’s devotion to duty was
remarkable, and all regretted his loss. Captain Stewart, who also
lost his life, assisted in maintaining the high traditions of the
20th Regiment.

The King’s Royal Rifles lost three officers killed and five
wounded. Their Colonel, the bravest of the brave, was hit
while in the act of leading the regiment up the steeps. He rose
for one instant to read a message and was shot through the
brain. The commanders of three leading companies were all
wounded. Colonel Thorneycroft was injured, Captain the Hon.[Pg 115]
J. H. Petre, though twice struck, held on to his duty till another
bullet laid him low. Captain O’Gowan was hit in two places, and
Lieutenant Lockwood in four, as also was Captain Murray of the
Scottish Rifles while attempting to lead his men towards the Boer
trenches. Death claimed this splendid officer before the end of
the day. Captain Walter was killed by a shell.

Curious stories were told of the behaviour of the Boers to the
Colonial soldiers, stories which were hardly creditable to the
Dutchmen. What their deadly missiles had failed to do the Boers
themselves accomplished. They clubbed some unfortunates to
death. These were Uitlanders, or suspected of being such. The
correspondent of the Daily Telegraph gave the names of two
men slaughtered in this way—Corporal Weldon and Private
Daddon, ex-Pretoria men! In addition to this brutality, explosive
bullets in quantities were used. A drummer and a private of the
Fusiliers were both killed by them. It was said that the quantity
of losses sustained by Thorneycroft’s, the Imperial Light Horse,
and other South African “Irregulars” was due to special spite
owing to a suspicion on the part of the Boers that these regiments
might have been recruited from Uitlanders. This charge was so
generally believed that many of the “Regulars” came to the assistance
of the Colonials, transferring to them their badges in order to
save them from the consequences of discovery; for it was distinctly
stated that cases had occurred where the Boers deliberately shot
the wounded whom they knew to be Colonials. So as to be
thoroughly impartial, however, we must remember that there are
blood-thirsty villains of all nationalities in times of peace as well as
in times of war.

Next morning, General Buller, riding to the scene of action,
then, and then only, became acquainted with the decisive move,
the abandonment of Spion Kop. His astonishment was great—so
was that of the Boers. Some said that the foe had already
begun trekking, believing, in spite of their stout resistance, that
the position was lost. Others argued that any trekking that they
might have attempted meant merely a manœuvre consistent with
their mobility to entice the British farther on into a trap from
whence they could not have escaped. Be this as it may, a man of
immense courage gave the order to withdraw, and he had his
reasons, which reasons proved satisfactory to the Chief.

THE SCENE ON SPION KOP—MAJOR THORNEYCROFT’S DESPERATE SITUATION.
Drawing by Frank Craig from a Sketch by a British Officer.

On the 25th the battle dragged on, the artillery barking and
rifles snapping at each other, while the transport slowly prepared to
retrace its winding way whither it had come, across the Tugela.
The most gallant and perhaps the most melancholy feature of the
war was at an end. General Warren’s right flanking movement
had failed, and the Commander-in-Chief decided that there was no[Pg 116]
alternative but to again concentrate in the neighbourhood of
Potgieter’s Drift. The movement was conducted, under the personal
direction of General Buller, with admirable precision and skill, and
though there were weary and disgusted hearts among the bitterly
disappointed troops, they bore their trial with dignity. The return
was orderly, and no further misfortune happened. The enemy
made no attempt to interfere. They, too, though successful in their
defence, were hard hit.

The following casualty list represents the cost of the great
flanking movement:—

Killed:—Staff—Captain Virtue, Brigade-Major. 3rd King’s Royal Rifles—Lieut.-Colonel
Buchanan Riddell, Lieutenant R. Grand, Second Lieutenant
French-Brewster. 2nd Cameronians—Captain F. Murray, Captain Walter,
Lieutenant Osborne. 17th Company Royal Engineers—Major Massey. 2nd
King’s Royal Rifles—Lieutenant Pope Wolferstan. 1st South Lancashire—Captain
Birch. 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers—Captain Stewart, Lieutenant J. Mallock,
Lieutenant Fraser. Imperial Light Horse—Lieutenant Rudall, Lieutenant
Kynock. 2nd Middlesex Regiment—Captain Muriel, Second Lieutenant Lawley,
Second Lieutenant Wilson. 2nd Lancaster Regiment—Major Ross, Captain
Kirk, Lieutenant Wade. Thorneycroft’s Mounted Infantry—Captain Hon.
W. Petre, Captain Knox-Gore, Lieutenant Grenfell, Lieutenant Newnham,
Lieutenant M’Corqudale, Lieutenant Hon. Hill-Trevor. South African Light
Horse—Major Childe. 2nd West York—Captain Ryall. Wounded:—Staff—Major-General
Sir E. Woodgate[5] (since dead), Captain Castleton, A.D.C.
3rd King’s Royal Rifles—Major Thistlethwayte, Major Kays, Captain Beaumont,
Captain Briscoe. 2nd Cameronians—Major S. P. Strong, Major Ellis,
Captain Wanless-O’Gowan, Lieutenant H. V. Lockwood, Second Lieutenant
O. M. Torkington, Second Lieutenant F. G. W. Draffen. Indian Staff Corps—Major
Bayly. Bethune’s Horse—Captain Ford. 17th Company Royal Engineers—Lieutenant
Falcon. 1st South Lancashire—Lieutenant Raphael. 1st Border
Regiment—Captain Sinclair-M’Lagan, Second Lieutenant Andrews. 2nd
Lancashire Fusiliers—Lieut.-Colonel Blomfield (taken prisoner), Major Walter,
Lieutenant Griffin, Lieutenant Wilson, Lieutenant Charlton. Royal Engineers—Captain
Phillips. Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers—Captain Maclachlan. 2nd
West York—Lieutenant Barlow. 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers—Captain Wolley-Dod,
Captain White, Captain Ormond, Lieutenant Campbell. 1st York and
Lancaster—Lieutenant Halford, Lieutenant Duckworth. 2nd West Surrey—Captain
Raitt (since dead), Captain Warden, Lieutenant Smith, Lieutenant[Pg 117]
Wedd. 2nd Middlesex Regiment—Major Scott-Moncrieff, Captain Savile,
Captain Burton, Second Lieutenant Bentley. 2nd Lancaster Regiment—Captain
Sandbach, Lieutenant Dykes, Lieutenant Stephens, Second Lieutenant
Nixon. Thorneycroft’s Mounted Infantry—Captain Bettington, Lieutenant
Foster, Lieutenant Baldwin, Lieutenant Howard. Missing:—2nd Lancashire
Fusiliers—Captain Elmslie (taken prisoner), Captain Hicks, Captain Freeth.
2nd Middlesex Regiment—Lieutenant Galbraith. 2nd Lancaster Regiment—Major
Carleton. Thorneycroft’s Mounted Infantry—Lieutenant Power-Ellis.

THE THIRD GREAT EFFORT—VAAL KRANTZ

At this time it seemed as though the word “As you were” had
been spoken by the military authorities. But it was, alas! no
longer possible to believe that the position was as it had been; for
it was now a case of melancholy experience plus previous melancholy
experience. Nearly six weeks before, the great frontal attack
at Colenso had failed—failed partly by reason of the tremendous
strategical position taken up by the Boers, with the river Tugela
as a natural moat for its protection, and partly on account of the
disaster to the guns, which completely upturned the plan of Sir
Redvers Buller’s calculations.

Now a great flank movement had been attempted, and had
failed as signally as the first frontal effort. It was really discovered
that a flanking movement, truly interpreted, was impossible, for
there is no flank to a circle, and the Boer lines were found to
be equally strong all round from Colenso to Ladysmith.

This horrible discovery naturally made the situation very grave
indeed. The effect on the garrison of Ladysmith—the terrible
rebound from delighted anticipation to amazed despair—may be
partly imagined. None, indeed, save those who had so valiantly
endured the terrible changes in the barometer of expectation could
entirely gauge the sensitivity of those ill-fed, debilitated thousands,
ravaged by disease, privation, and warfare, who hung oscillating day
after day between salvation and destruction. They now knew that
their saviours, Sir Charles Warren and his force, were withdrawn to
the south of the Tugela. This was done because the river forms a
species of natural rampart, beyond which the country—a species
of South African Switzerland—offered no facilities to an attacking
force. It was found that the Boers had carefully fortified
every position already well formed by nature for purposes of
defence. It was the same as Colenso. The theatre of war was
margined by fortifications, regular galleries, rising tier upon tier on
originally favourable positions. The opportunity to occupy these
favourable positions the Boers owed entirely to us—to the procrastination
and pacific tendencies of the British Government. It
was now owned that Sir Alfred Milner should have gone to the
Conference with a forest of rifles at his back, an army of mounted[Pg 118]
Colonials at his elbows, and some big guns “up his sleeve.” As it
was, while he talked and the Government spent its money on telegraphic
palaver, the Boers, assisted by their German mercenaries,
were marking out the choicest positions, not for their own defence,
but for the defence of Natal (which they were allowed time
to seize) against the “magnanimous” Briton. Yes, the Boers from
the beginning had decided to talk the British into delay, and had
profited gloriously by their strategy. In our first volume, a letter
on “Boer ignorance” candidly showed the Dutchman’s hand—too
late, of course, for then the trick was bound to be taken. The
Dutchmen conferred with Sir Alfred Milner to suit their own ends
and to further their main objects; firstly, to keep the war outside
their own territories, and secondly, to confine it to soil that, geographically
and by a species of hereditary instinct, they knew to perfection.
They, boy and man, loved those kopjes. In those semi-circular
windings, those almost inaccessible peaks and cones, those
boulders which afforded eternal cover to the sniper, those vast
arenas of open veldt where an approaching enemy might be stormed
upon by a deluge of leaden hail—they had mentally played hide-and-seek
for eighteen years. Now the reality of the game was
come. From the early days when Sir Harry Smith found them
prospecting the fair land of Natal, they had learnt its intimate
geography. We, to whom the fair land belonged, had barely heard
of the Tugela or the region around it. To us it was superficially
known only at the cost of dire experience. The Boers had been
aware that the British advance northwards through the Free State
would lie across flat fair country, and knowing this, had decided that
during the month taken to land the British army they must take up
their positions beyond and around it; and so excellent was their
cunning, so amicably pacific the temper of the British nation, that
they were enabled to follow their strategic programme in its entirety,
and plant themselves in firmly rooted masses to await our arrival!

The problem of how to dislodge them and how to relieve Ladysmith
was once more staring Sir Redvers Buller in the face with
hard and unbending austerity. According to military experts, who
viewed the plan of campaign with dispassionate eyes, the fate of
Ladysmith should have been left out of the calculations. The troops
should have been massed to a common centre and at the south, and
from thence boldly advanced into the Free State. But against that
opinion was the picture of the noble ten thousand inside a beleaguered
town, a grand British multitude, who had been kept for
months hoping against hope, fighting bravely, and praying of the
Almighty to hasten the hour of their deliverance. They could not
be left. While he had men and guns the General felt he must
go on. But how? Certainly not by the newer route. The re[Pg 119]capture
of Spion Kop was decided to be impracticable, and the
force remained stationary south of the Tugela while the complicated
situation was reviewed.

The General, whatever his misfortunes, had lost none of the confidence
of his troops. As he himself said of them, “The men were
splendid.” They were disgusted at being a second time defeated
without being beaten, and disappointed at again being forced back
from the road to Ladysmith; but their steadfast faith in their chief
was unalterable. Sir Redvers Buller again addressed his warriors,
promising them they should be in Ladysmith soon, and the men,
Britons to the core, again said in their hearts, “We shall.”

To replace 1600 killed and wounded in the late actions, drafts of
2400 men had now arrived. A mountain battery, A Battery R.H.A.,
and two fortress guns had strengthened the artillery, while two
squadrons of the 14th Hussars had been added to the cavalry, thus
bringing the strength of the force to 1000 more than the number
which had started for Spion Kop. This was an imposing increase,
but its value at the present time was much less than it would have
been had Sir Redvers Buller originally taken the field with a proper
complement of men and guns. “To do the thing handsomely we
want 150,000 men,” a tactician declared at the onset; but nobody
heeded him, and in consequence of this heedlessness the complications
in Natal had arisen.

“However,” as a military officer expressed it, “there was not a
sore head nor a timid heart in Buller’s army. As we lie in our
bivouacs at night, the Southern Cross and a thousand constellations
watching over our slumbers, we dream of the Angel of Victory, and
in our dreams we hear the flapping of her wings.”

The optimism of the army was undiminished. There was no
doubt whatever that they would relieve Ladysmith, but the when
and the how remained as yet unsolved. The troops had not yet
sustained actual defeat at the hands of the Boers, and, while our
losses could be replaced, and were being replaced, the recuperative
power of the Boers was nil. Indeed it was stated that they had
come to the end of their resources, and that they were already forcing
Kaffirs to fight for them in the trenches. Later on it was discovered
that females even—true to the ancient sporting instinct of the
Boer woman—were lending a hand in the management of the rifle.

At last, after some days of deliberation, a third great attempt to
reach the imprisoned multitude in Ladysmith was planned out.

A week of waiting and then a new advance was decided on.
Seventy guns drew up in line on the hills to prepare the way for
another gigantic move. This time Sir Redvers Buller’s plan was to
occupy a hill called Vaal Krantz and get forward between Spion
Kop and the Doorn Kloof ranges. But after a very short yet[Pg 120]
valorous essay, it was discovered that there were veritably cannon
to right of them, cannon to left of them. The Boers commanded
the hills on either side the road through which the troops must
pass. Not only were there guns on both sides, but these Krupps
and Creusot cannon far outranged anything that our artillery could
bring to bear on them. The Naval guns alone were capable of not
only barking but biting, and these three were not enough to meet
the formidable array of the Republicans.

Plan of the Battle of Vaal Krantz

On the 5th of February, however, the gallant attempt was made.
The cavalry moved forward about 6 A.M.—one brigade under Colonel
Burn-Murdoch advanced to the right below Swartz Kop, the
Colonials under Lord Dundonald kept nearer to Potgieter’s Drift,
Sir Charles Warren with one brigade remained west of Mount Alice
in a position commanding the road leading to Potgieter’s Drift.
The Naval guns meanwhile came into action, shelling the Boer
positions, dongas, and trenches, and every imaginable hiding-place
with immense energy, but with little result. The Boers in their
trenches were quiet, as usual reserving themselves for an effective
outburst later on. Meanwhile the Lancashire Brigade (now under
Colonel Wynne) were advancing in skirmishing order to the tune of
the mighty orchestra, while above an officer of sappers in the balloon
spied out the Boer haunts, and directed accordingly. By nine
o’clock pandemonium was unloosed—lyddite bellowed, shrapnel[Pg 121]
clattered over the whole fortified face of Brakfontein, while the
infantry steadily moved on. Presently from dongas and trenches,
at ranges of 1000 yards and less, came the crackling of rifles, to
which our troops responded by volleys now and again. Between
these volleys they proceeded steadily, regardless of the uproar and
the fell work of the eternally active sniper.

CYCLISTS—LANCASHIRE FUSILIERS.
Photo by Gregory & Co., London.

While this feint attack was taking place on the left before the
now flaming ridges of Brakfontein, a real and vigorous move was
being made on the extreme right for the purpose of carrying the
crest of Vaal Krantz, which was then thought to be the key to the
direct road to Ladysmith, and was not very strongly fortified by
the Dutchmen. The Royal Engineers with immense energy
set to work laying a pontoon bridge across the treacherous depths
in the direction of Skiet’s Drift, an operation which had to be
performed with infinite patience and pluck, as the Boers were no
sooner aware of their activities than they plied their Mausers with
a will. This crossing-place, styled Munger’s Ford, now attracted
the attention of the whole Boer artillery, and the “pom-poms”
and 40-pounders of the enemy contrived to render the locality
anything but an enviable place of rendezvous. Our pieces, from
their hiding-place among the trees in the neighbourhood of Swartz
Kop, soon bombarded the Boer position with equal activity. By
ten o’clock the bridge had been thrown across the river, and
General Lyttelton and his troops were preparing for the assault of
Vaal Krantz. The artillery now made its finishing demonstration
before Brakfontein, there being no necessity—now that the troops
had come successfully across the pontoon bridge—for a continuation
of the feint attack. For this reason the Lancashire Brigade was
now ordered to retire. The gallant fellows, having done what was
required of them, marched back in excellent order to their original
position.

All this while shells were shrieking, lyddite was bursting, and
musketry crackling, till the whole earth seemed riven with an
enormous convulsion. The gunners had some terrific experiences,
and nobly, in a truly alarming position, they comported themselves.
They were on low ground, exposed without shelter to the Boer
works, which dominated the plain; yet they pursued their labours
with unerring care and intelligence that was truly remarkable.
Shell plumped in their midst, under the limbers, over the guns,
above their heads, round their feet. They stuck to their duty.
Horses dropped and shrieked in their agony, gunners fell shot
through the heart and were carried away. Loudly the vociferous
chorus of death went on, steadily the gunners took their share of the
fearful drama of destruction. To show the vast amount of “grit”
that these gunners could boast, an incident of the day must be[Pg 122]
recorded. About noon the batteries were ordered to approach
nearer to Vaal Krantz and prepare the way for the infantry assault.
The guns, ever under a scathing fire, moved off in due order to take
up the fresh position on the right facing Vaal Krantz. Finally
they came to the last waggon, an ammunition waggon belonging to
the 78th Battery R.A., which was horseless. The team had been
wiped off by the enemy. Nevertheless the gunners put their
shoulders to the wheel, and, with a mighty effort, rolled the machine
straight through the fiery hurricane to a place of safety! The
conduct of the Jack Tars also stuck another feather in their already
well-decorated caps. While the new balloon made its descent it
became an object of attention, and was saluted vigorously by the
enemy. Nevertheless the sailors stuck to their work, held the
basket, took possession of the truculent aërial vessel, and marched
off with it under a galling fire.

By-and-by, when Vaal Krantz had been thoroughly searched and
swept by the British batteries, and the snipers from the base of
Doorn Kloof had been partially reduced to silence by the joint
efforts of the artillery and Hildyard’s Brigade, Lyttelton’s gallant
band began to move off from the direction of Munger’s Farm on
the road to Vaal Krantz. It was now the early afternoon, but
from all sides the deadly missiles of the enemy still bellowed and
hooted. Still the Durham Light Infantry, with the 3rd King’s
Royal Rifles on their right, pushed steadily on—forward from the
river and up the precipitous broken face of the hill. Cheering, they
went, clambering and leaping, and whether it was the menacing roar,
or the suggestion it gave of coming steel that stirred them, certain
it was that few of the foe remained to meet the charge.

The Boers saw them—heard them—gauged the meaning of
the lusty British cheer—and bolted. Scarcely any elected to fall
victim to the bayonet. Those who were there threw up their
hands and appealed for mercy. These were promptly made
prisoners, and the British, for the time being, reigned supreme on
the hill. But their reign had its discomforts. Dutchmen crowded
the ground, west, east, and north of them, dosing them liberally
with lead from their rifles, while their position was perpetually
pounded by the big guns of the enemy. These, vomiting on the
eastern slopes of the hill, set fire to the grass and added to the
discomforts of the position by surrounding it with appalling fumes,
which choked and blinded, and destroyed the view of the Dutchmen’s
haunts. Nevertheless, the kopje once gained, the men
rushed along the crest and entrenched themselves in a spot that
looked as though it had been overtaken by a prairie fire. Our shells
had effectually cleared the grass and scrub. The gunners from
the surrounding kopjes kept a sharp lookout, firing at the Boers[Pg 123]
as they brought up their guns from all directions, while General
Lyttelton maintained his ground. Meanwhile efforts were made to
get the batteries forward to the hill, but the task was a difficult one, and
the position was strengthened and enlarged in order to assist in the
accomplishment of the desired object. Until guns could be mounted
and made to defy the active aggression of the “pom-poms,” Creusots,
and other deadly weapons of the enemy, there could be no hope of
getting the troops and their baggage through to Ladysmith. At
this time an obstinate effort to gain lost ground was made by the
Republicans, but owing to the doughty resistance of the Scottish
Rifles and the King’s Royal Rifles, the attempt to dislodge them
entirely failed. Towards seven o’clock a drizzling rain and darkness
descended. The troops which had gathered together between
Swartz Kop, Munger’s Drift, and the newly acquired hill were forced
to bivouac where they were for the night, Sir Redvers Buller and
his staff remaining on the field with the men.

At dawn on the 6th of February the Boers resumed their
activity. Long Tom—the first to awake—with his big black snout
snorted sonorously. Bang went a hundred-pound shell across the
plain—helter-skelter flew the British Tommies, who were enjoying
their morning tea, and crash and splash went their delicious brew.
Fortunately no serious harm was done. A few horses were killed.
But after this began an artillery duel of vigorous nature. This
was chiefly directed against General Lyttelton’s troops on Vaal
Krantz. The Boers seemed everywhere, more ubiquitous than usual.
From the lower crests of Spion Kop, from the peak of Doorn
Kloof, from the mountains commanding the road to Ladysmith,
flame vomited, and lead and steel and powder spouted and spluttered.

The fact was that during the night the Boers, in order to proceed
with the work of defence, had set fire to more grass in the neighbourhood
of the British position, and utilised the illumination for the
transfer of their guns from one place to another. Early, therefore,
they were enabled to greet the camp with the roar of a Creusot gun
and other weapons from all quarters playing upon the position. Shells
burst everywhere, some even reaching headquarters. It was said
that Buller, the imperturbable, welcomed them. Certainly his
Spartan-like disregard of danger was remarkable, and was responsible
for the superb nonchalance of those who served under him. Still,
with his courage he displayed caution, the caution that only a
courageous man would dare to display. He decided later on that
his move was impracticable, that more lives should not be spent in
futile effort. Of this anon. While the Creusots and Krupps pounded
the hill, the Boers strove their uttermost to regain their hold on the
lost position. Meanwhile the Naval guns rumbled and rampaged,
ammunition waggons blew up, earthquakes filled the clear blue[Pg 124]
atmosphere with avalanches of dust, and one of the enemy’s
cherished weapons on Spion Kop was knocked clean out of action.

Late in the afternoon, the worn-out troops of Lyttelton’s
Brigade were relieved by Hildyard’s men, who came in from a
violent night-attack by the enemy. This in their usual gallant style
was repelled by the East Surrey and the West Yorks—the veteran
West Yorks, who had learned not a little from Beacon Hill onwards.

On Wednesday the firing grew terrific. More guns were
brought up, seemingly from the bowels of the earth; they were
posted everywhere—another 6-inch Creusot gun, Maxim cannons,
two 30-pounders, three “pom-poms,” in addition to the death-dealing
weapons of the previous day. Shells hurtled and burst on hill and
dale, mountain and valley, smoke, flame, and dust spouted forth,
making the atmosphere dense, torrid, and fearsome. Still
Hildyard’s dauntless brigade held their ground unflinchingly, while
the Naval guns strove bravely, but strove in vain, to tackle the
great snorting crew of the opposition. It seemed as though the
advance must be accomplished not merely through a zone, but a
sheath of fire, for the road to Ladysmith was barred from end to
end, a sheer cul-de-sac, with flame and death for its lining.

Our troops during the whole day hung tenaciously to Vaal Krantz,
while the Dutchmen obstinately challenged their right to be there.
But nothing appreciable was achieved, and evacuation seemed the
wiser and more profitable course to pursue. By this time it began to
be recognised that the strategic value of Vaal Krantz for turning
the Brakfontein position had been over-estimated, and that an
advance would necessitate the routing of the Boers from Brakfontein
and the taking and holding of Doorn Kloof, if our communications
through the valley were to be maintained.

There was no glory in trying to proceed in the teeth—nay,
into the jaws—of so overpowering a foe, a foe who was on the eve
of outflanking us. It would have been walking into a fiery furnace—into
the pocket of hell. Another council of war took place.
Retirement was suggested. General Hart, as distinguished for
valour as General Lyttelton for brave discretion, proposed the
storming of Doorn Kop. He and his were ready for everything:
he had Ireland at his back. But Pat was not to be thrown away
on an impossible undertaking, and consequently the majority had
their way, and the retirement was effected. On Friday the whole
glorious persevering band were again across the Tugela, preparing
to strike out in a fresh direction.

FALLS ON THE TUGELA RIVER.
Photo by Wilson, Aberdeen.

The following is the list of casualties between the 5th and 7th
of February:—

Killed:—1st Durham Light Infantry—Major Johnson Smith; Second Lieutenant
Shafto.[Pg 125]

Wounded:—1st Durham Light Infantry—Lieut.-Colonel Fitzgerald; Captain
Lascelles; Second Lieutenant Lambton; Second Lieutenant Appleby. 1st Rifle
Brigade—Captain Thorp; Captain Talbot; Lieutenant Blewitt; Lieutenant
Ellis; Lieutenant Sir T. Cunninghame, Bart. 3rd King’s Royal Rifles—Lieutenant
Sims. Royal Artillery—Lieut.-Colonel Montgomery, Captain Dawson,
78th Battery R.F.A. 2nd Scottish Rifles—Second Lieutenant Ferrars. 2nd
West Yorkshire—Second Lieutenant Bicknell. 2nd East Surrey—Captain White.
R.A.M.C., Major Rose.

DISAPPOINTMENT AT LADYSMITH

The fearful and ghastly activity of the 6th of January ceased with
dusk. Night descended: she came softly as the footsteps of angels
moving lightly among the tranquil dead. The moon, with pale white
serenity, looked down on the scene of carnage, so still, so appallingly
still; and the dots of twinkling stars seemed like a thousand eyes of
heaven, seeing and inquiring how the face of the fair earth could grow
so changed within a day. And everywhere there moved leaden
hearts and feet weary with the long strain of foregone hours.
Hunger, exposure, and long vigils had become a daily routine, but
this close and sustained attack, and the terrible havoc it had wrought
on the weakening numbers, brought with it new alarms. True, the
bayonet, the trusty bayonet, had served its turn, and might serve
again, so long as strength would hold out. But there were doubts.
The Russian general Suvaroff once said, “The ball is a fool, but
the bayonet is a brick.” He took it for granted that the bayonet
even must needs have a man, and not the ghost of a man, at the
back of it; and the poor heroes in Ladysmith were fast becoming
shadows of the hale and muscular fellows who had scaled the steeps
of Talana Hill and broken the echoes of Elandslaagte with the yell
of victory. Sadly and solemnly they now set themselves to the
pathetic work of removing the slain.

On the 7th of January one of the Boer medical officers rode in
under a Red Cross flag, requesting the burial of the British dead.
A party started to fulfil this sad office, and while they wandered
about picking up the melancholy mutilated forms, the Boers assisted
in the task, and in some cases helped to dig the graves and carry
the slain; conversing the while with such perfect amity, that it
was almost impossible to believe they were deadly foes. Deeply
pathetic was the reading of the solemn burial service by the commanding
officer, for Britons and Boers stood side by side, and one of
the latter, moving apart, uttered a short prayer that the war would
soon be at an end. This was followed by the singing of a hymn in
Dutch, a quaint, simple, earnest solemnity, which was vastly touching
to all.

The curious blend of courage and pleasantness, of trickery and
barbarity, in the Boer character has been remarked upon before.[Pg 126]
It was never more displayed than in the dealings of the Boers
around Ladysmith. On one day they would shell an hospital, or
rather the Town Hall, knowing it to serve as an hospital; on
another they would treat the wounded with almost brotherly consideration.
For instance, one man in the 19th Hussars, who was
wounded on January 6, and subsequently taken prisoner, gave
a refreshing account of Boer manners. Though shot in the arm,
he remained at his post till dark, and then in the gloom mistook
his way to camp and wandered down the wrong side of the hill.
He was captured and detained till morning, while his wound was
dressed and cared for. Then he was sent back to camp armed with
a tin of jam and a box of chocolate! A somewhat similar experience
was related by another man, one of the Gordons, who was wounded
and taken prisoner on Waggon Hill early in the morning, and was
removed in charge of an old Boer to a place of safety half-way down
the slope. From here he subsequently escaped. In the mêlée that
followed the Devons’ charge across the plateau in the thick of the
hailstorm, the Boers, shouting in Dutch that the rooineks were upon
them, stampeded, and consequently the prisoner was left to his own
devices. He thereupon rejoined the troops.

British 7-Pounder Field-Gun.

The Boers in the fight had been animated by unusual confidence.
They had seemed assured of victory. Their demeanour was cool
and deliberate, some of them doing an hour’s firing while others put
in a half-hour’s nap under cover of the rocks. All their preparations
were made with a view to spending Sunday in Ladysmith, and their
tents were ready to be pitched immediately they had obtained
possession of the ridge. They, in fact, firmly believed that they
would make a repetition of Majuba, and it was noticed that their
tactics were identical with those observed on that tragic occasion.
Curiously enough, an exceedingly interesting relic of Majuba came
to hand. A rifle bearing the mark “Majuba” and the name of
the 58th Regiment was found on an old Boer. It had evidently
been captured on the fatal day when Colley fell.[Pg 127]

Much regret was felt for the loss of Lord Ava, one of the
cheeriest of soldiers and most handsome and brilliant of men. He
had served with the 17th Lancers, and had also cast in his lot with
the irregulars in South Africa under Methuen. He was essentially
a sporting and a romantic figure in all circles of London society,
having resuscitated the fortunes of Ranelagh and engaged himself
actively in plans and projects for the brightening of social life. He
was moreover a general favourite, and sympathy with Lord Dufferin
on the loss of his promising heir was great.

Now that the rivers were flooded the service of native runners
was precarious, and less than ever was known of the outside
world. But the Boers were seen to be in active movement on the
distant hills, and there was a very general belief that the quiet that
was enjoyed was due to some advance movement on the part of
General Buller that was demanding the attention of the Dutchmen.
This belief was confirmed by the sight of two machine-guns which
were being galloped off post-haste to a destination unknown.

Since Christmas the prices had gone up. Eggs by the middle
of January were worth 19s. a dozen, and jam cost 6s. 6d. a tin.
Condensed milk was sold for 10s. a tin, other things, particularly
medicines, were becoming priceless. An appalling apathy almost
approaching despair had settled on the community. It was going
on for three months since they had been shut off from the outside
world, during which their losses had exceeded 1500 in slain,
wounded, and missing, yet they were no nearer release. Indeed,
each began to wonder whether death or Sir Redvers Buller’s force
would reach them first. One month after another passed, and with
them, precious lives, yet little fuss was made, for death was a common
visitor. Much regret was felt at the loss on the 15th of the brilliant
author and correspondent of the Daily Mail, Mr. G. W. Steevens.
His was a young career, rich in promise. But death is a connoisseur—he
chooses the best. Only a few days before, Mr. Mitchell,
sub-editor of the Johannesburg Star, and Lieutenant Stabb (Naval
Reserve) of the Times of India, had been carried off by enteric fever;
while young Ferrand, sometime a correspondent of the Morning
Post and a trooper of the Light Horse, fell in action on the 6th.

The Siege of Ladysmith, Jan. 1900. View from Bulwana Hill.
From a sketch by George Lynch, War Correspondent.
The hospital train is here shown on its way to Intombi Camp with its daily load of sick and wounded.

But soon a change came. Sounds of unusual guns reached their
ears—ears now well attuned to all the surrounding noises. Though
news by heliogram came slowly and at long intervals, all were
conscious that something was afloat.

They were soon wild with excitement and anticipation. Not
only could Sir George White’s garrison hear the distant thunder of
the guns of the relieving column, a sound which made heavenly
music to their ears, but from the lookout posts on the heights held
by them they could occasionally see the bursting of the shells fired[Pg 128]
by the Naval guns from the region of Potgieter’s Drift. The attention
of the investing force was now distracted; the Dutchmen were
concentrating their energies to repel the movement of the British
troops on the Upper Tugela, and continued to send reinforcements
westward to meet the demand on their resources there. But they
strengthened their works on the north of the town, added some
more howitzers and fired a few shells by way of introduction.

LIEUT.-GENERAL SIR CHARLES WARREN, G.C.M.G.
Photo by Elliott & Fry, London.

[Pg 129]At this time impatience and anxiety arrived at an almost painful
pitch. Every soul was panting for the signal that might call
upon them to co-operate in the final tug-of-war which should set
Ladysmith free. Acutely were the movements of General Buller’s
relieving force watched from the highest points in the town.
Intense was the interest displayed as every bursting shell threw
forth its dense volumes of brown smoke, and showed how the
friendly lyddite worked to the rescue. The garrison looked forth
breathlessly for the coming of relief, hoping, praying, doubting,
fearing, with nothing to vary the ever-recurrent anguish of
anticipation.

At this date a journalist made a daring sortie on his own
account, and reached Durban in safety. He left with permission
at nightfall on the 18th of January, and, guided by a wily Kaffir,
made tracks for Chieveley. Having gone about two miles to the
east of Cæsar’s Camp and approached unwarily a Boer picket, he
was promptly challenged. Then ping! ping! ping! a swift
whistling sound of Boer bullets, and silence! The journalist, to
use a sporting phrase, was lying “doggo.” Not a shot touched
him. Flat on his stomach he remained for fully half an hour with
bated breath, then, when murmurs of the disquieted Boers ceased
to ruffle the night air, he resumed his way, groping on hands
and knees, and wishing fervently that he had taken lessons in
deportment earlier—from the quadrupeds. Perilous was the onward
journey, clambering and crawling up hill and down dale, and
falling over rocks and stones in the pitch darkness. Daylight saw
him at the hut of a friendly native not far from Chieveley, and here
concealed, he spent twenty-four hours of terrible suspense till it
was time again to proceed on his journey. The Boers almost discovered
him. They called at the hut for milk, absorbed it, and
looked about suspiciously, while the man of the pen was penned in
amongst a heap of blankets, a perspiring mass, quaking but safe.

Meanwhile with the rumour of battle in the air, hope revived.
It continued to increase as the British positions from the heights
around the town became visible—the newly gained positions on
Swartz Kop and the eminences near the Tugela at Potgieter’s and
Trichardt’s Drifts. Every red flash was like a smile of welcome—every
roar of bursting shrapnel seemed a very chorus of jubilation.[Pg 130]
To the ears of the besieged the tremendous awe-striking cannonade
appeared as the loved assurance of Great Britain, their deliverer,
saying, with grand majestic tone, “I am coming.” In the distance
the Boers could be seen in frenzied activity inspanning their
waggons, and towards the evening they were observed trekking
northwards towards Van Reenan’s Pass. Many conjectures were
rife, and subsequently on the 25th curiosity grew to fever heat.
Surely the British were in possession of Spion Kop! Decidedly
they were masters of the situation! Yet in the nek below, by the
light of the telescope, Boer camps could be seen on the plains; under
cover of the great hill Boer cattle were grazing. What could this
mean? Had the Boers gone and left everything to the mercy of
their victors? or were they merely in hiding, intending to return at
nightfall, and remove their valuables? Certainly the Burghers
were to be viewed mounted and decamping in the direction of the
pass, and also winding strings of waggons pursuing their slow way
in the same direction. Still the riddle remained unsolved. Night
fell. The suspense grew more and more fevered; it became almost
a delirium. There was little sleep; then, when morning dawned,
there was more anxiety and more puzzling, more mental torture.
The Boers were as much in evidence as ever!

Disappointment may be borne with a show of spirit when the
inner machinery is well oiled, but the inhabitants of Ladysmith
had no such source of fortitude. True, they had fared, if not
sumptuously, at least practically, on horse-sausages, which were
turned out wholesale from a factory for the benefit of the troops,
and on fairly nourishing soup which was supplied in the same way;
but of civilised food there was none. Eggs had now gone up to
36s. a dozen, and a diminutive and emaciated fowl could be
purchased for 18s. These luxuries were for the elect. For the mass
a varying dietary of horse and mule was obligatory. Vegetables
were sold at a prohibitive price, and a case of whisky was raffled
for and fetched £145, so that “Dutch courage” wherewith to meet
their misfortune was unpurchasable.

Not till Sunday the 28th the fearful truth was learned, that
Warren, after holding Spion Kop, had retired, and left the Boers
in undisturbed occupation of their commanding position!

As all the latest events to the south were communicated to the
garrison as fast as they were made known to the chief, the news
of the capture of Spion Kop and the disappointing retirement
therefrom was published in general orders. Blank faces turned from
each other, that none should see the reflection of his own
despondency. Intense had been the rapture of the anxious inhabitants
when they had heard the far-away booming of the British
guns, seen the splashing of British lyddite, watched the great spouts[Pg 131]
of smoke that spoke of tremendous activity and their possible
salvation. Now their dismay was more than proportionate. After
all their agony—silence. Silence, so far as they were concerned.
Mystery, doubt, and agonising suspense—and now the news, the
woeful news, that the second splendid effort to break through the
imprisoning Boer girdle had failed!

Still the garrison was resolved to hold on to the last, preferring
death by starvation or disease rather than surrender. The malodorous
surroundings were borne with patience, the diminution of
the supply of medicines, watched with pathetic resignation. Nevertheless
an untold weariness crept over the unhappy sufferers, who
spent their days huddled underground and dreading to expose
themselves in the open lest they should be caught by a shell or
“sniped” at by some Boer more enterprising than the rest. How
they longed, how they prayed for the great hour! They believed
in Buller; they knew he would come, they said to themselves.
But when, O when? And echo answered—When?

LORD ROBERTS AT THE CAPE

On the 10th of January Lord Roberts arrived. He was
received by General Sir F. Forestier Walker on behalf of Sir Alfred
Milner. All the ships in port were dressed, and there was immense
excitement at the prospect of better things. Many recalled to mind
the occasion of the last coming of the great little man, when, on the
eve of a campaign to retrieve Majuba, he found that the British
Government, unknown to him, had arranged peace on contemptible
terms. At that time it was said he broke his sword in indignation
at the betrayal to which he had been subjected, and vowed never
again to serve under a British Government. Be this as it may—he
had now come at the earnest call of his country, and all felt that
his coming meant a turn in the wheel of fortune. After his arrival
things began gradually to unfold themselves, and the promise of
decisive movement was in the air.

Lord Roberts’s decision to bring the Colonial volunteers to the
support of the Imperial forces was acknowledged to be a great move.
The Colonist’s services were eminently to be desired, for he had
taken the Boer measure. He knew him in all the complex windings
of his sinuous, twisting nature. In some respects the Boer had
been his lesson-book. From him he had learned the necessity to
be a good shot, a smart horseman, and a long stayer. He followed
the ins and outs of the Dutchman’s war game, and could practise
the art of dodging round kopjes and into dongas, hiding in scrub
and disappearing from mortal ken at a moment’s notice, with the
zest and agility of a schoolboy playing at hide and seek, and with
a certain enjoyment in the diamond-cut-diamond sort of exercise.[Pg 132]

On the 26th of January General Brabant arrived at Queenstown
to take over the command of the Colonial Division, and on the
same day General Kelly Kenny, commanding the Sixth Division,
occupied Thebus, a position on the railway between Middleburg
and Stormberg Junction. This station is situated about ninety
miles from Colesberg, around which General French so untiringly
operated, and forty-five miles from Stormberg, the scene of General
Gatacre’s disaster.

On the 1st of February the City of London Volunteers landed.
Immediately after their arrival at the Cape they were honoured by
a visit from the great man who was about to control the destinies of
South Africa. Gracefully he welcomed them, and said how little it
had been imagined in days gone by, the days when the Volunteer
force had been established, that any of its members would come to
take part in a war in South Africa. He expressed his belief that
nothing was more calculated to benefit the army than employment
together on service of all its component parts, and that these would
learn to appreciate each other, and acquire a spirit of comradeship
which would have far-reaching results. He reminded them that
strangely enough the first Volunteers left home three hundred years
ago to fight for the Dutch, and arrived just in time to save Flushing
from the Spaniards. On this occasion they would take an
equally brilliant part in establishing peace, order, and freedom in
South Africa.

Type of Arms—New Naval 12-Pounder Field-Gun.
(Photo, Cribb, Southsea.)

The members of the corps were delighted. Colonel Cholmondeley[Pg 133]
expressed their thanks, and they all cheered right royally. They
were burning to get to the front, and, in spite of the sudden change
of temperature from British midwinter to tropical sunshine, their zeal
to be up and doing was unabated. They waited at the Cape to be
joined by the second detachment and receive their horses, after
which they entrained for the western border, where they were so
soon to distinguish themselves.

ARRIVAL AT CAPE TOWN OF WOUNDED FROM NATAL.
Photo by Hosking, Cape Town.

There was great satisfaction at the announcement that General
Brabant would command the Colonial corps. The class of men
enlisting in Brabant’s Horse, the Imperial Horse, Bailey’s Horse,
and other of the South African mounted corps was a superior one.
The volunteers were mostly well-to-do men, sons of farmers and
Colonials who were residents in the country, and were intimately
acquainted with its geography. Moreover, they were men and not
striplings, and were averse from being commanded by young officers
who were absolutely without South African experience.

It has been rumoured that the British officers and those of the
irregular troops have not always been in accord. The fact is, that
one is a master of discipline and the other a master of independence.
The Colonial is accustomed to habits of complete self-reliance; he
expects to be treated like an individual and not as a machine. Our
military system is a machine-made system, and one which, unluckily
for us, has been incapable of any of the smart plasticities which
warfare with the Boers has demanded. Colonial troops will be led,
but they won’t be driven. They are composed of men of first-rate
quality, but not men accustomed blindly to obey orders. The Colonist
obeys because of the personal influence of a man or men whom he holds
intellectually or morally in esteem, but the word discipline for sheer
discipline’s sake he is disinclined to understand. Among the ranks
of the Colonials are many men of wealth and influence, men of high
character and good education. These could not suddenly be treated
in the same way as the British regulars, who, being gifted with more
dare-devil courage than knowledge of the three R’s, require to be
welded together on a system. A tactician once asked the question—What
is the difference between an army and a mob? and the
general answered—“Discipline.” It is discipline that converts a rowdy
British youngster into the glorious British Tommy that he is. With
the Colonial we have already the trained and independent man, and
the system of give and take is the only system that can avert friction
between men who, though brothers in blood, have, and always
must have, the special idiosyncrasies attendant on their dissimilar
forms of life.

Lord Roberts, recognising all this, with his usual diplomacy and
sympathy for those who serve the Queen, decided to form a bodyguard,
to accompany him to the front, of Colonials, the troops to be[Pg 134]
representative of all the corps—volunteers, irregulars, &c. The
guard was to consist of Major Laing, an officer well versed and
distinguished in Colonial matters, a lieutenant, two sergeants and
corporals, and about forty picked troopers taken from the various
irregular corps already at the front. The men of the corps were to
continue to wear their own uniform, and merely to be distinguished
by a badge. Preference in choosing the members of the guard was
given to men of Colonial birth, good shots, riders, and scouts, who
were well acquainted with all the peculiarities of Colonial life.

To further show his appreciation of the services of the Colonials,
Lord Roberts appointed as extra aide-de-camp on his personal staff
Colonel Bryon of the Australian Artillery. He also sent telegrams
to the Governors of Victoria and New South Wales congratulating
them on the spirit of patriotism in Australia, and expressing his
appreciation of the useful and workmanlike troops that had been
sent to assist in restoring peace, order, and freedom in South
Africa.

PRIVATE, DRUMMERS, PIPER, AND BUGLER—THE BLACK WATCH.
Photo by Knight, Aldershot.

At this time the following correspondence between the Presidents
of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State and Lord Roberts
was published at the Cape. It began with a joint despatch from
Presidents Steyn and Kruger dated Bloemfontein, February 3,
stating:—

“We learn from many sides that the British troops, contrary to the recognised
usages of war, have been guilty of destruction by burning and blowing
up with dynamite farmhouses and devastating farms and goods therein, whereby
unprotected women and children have often been deprived of food and
shelter. This happens not only in places where barbarians are encouraged by
British officers, but even in Cape Colony and in this State (Orange Free State),
where white brigands come out from the theatre of war with the evident
intention of carrying on general devastation without any reason recognised by
the custom of war and without in any way furthering the operations. We wish
earnestly to protest against such practices.”

Mr. Kruger’s Autograph

In reply Lord Roberts wrote:—

“I beg to acknowledge your Honours’ telegram charging British troops
with the destruction of property contrary to the recognised usages of war, and
with brigandage and devastation. These charges are made in vague and
general terms. No specific case is mentioned. No evidence is given. I have
seen such charges made before now in the Press, but in no case which has
come under my notice have they been substantiated. Most stringent instructions
have been issued to British troops to respect private property so far as it
is compatible with the conduct of military operations. All wanton destruction[Pg 135]
and injury to peaceful inhabitants are contrary to British practice and traditions,
and will, if necessary, be vigorously repressed by me.

“I regret that your Honours should have seen fit to repeat the untrue
statement that barbarians have been encouraged by British officers to commit
depredations. In the only case in which a raid has been perpetrated by native
subjects of the Queen, the act was contrary to the instructions of the British
officer nearest the spot, and entirely disconcerted his operations. The women
and children taken prisoners by the natives were restored to their home by the
agency of the British officer in question.

“I regret to say it is the Republican forces which in some cases have been
guilty of carrying on war in a manner not in accordance with civilised usage.
I refer especially to the expulsion of loyal subjects of Her Majesty from their
homes in the invaded districts because they refused to be commandeered by
the invaders. It is barbarous to attempt to force men to take sides against
their sovereign country by threats of spoliation and expulsion. Men, women,
and children had to leave their homes owing to such compulsion. Many of
those who were formerly in comfortable circumstances are now maintained by
charity.

“That war should inflict hardships and injury on peaceful inhabitants is
inevitable, but it is the desire of Her Majesty’s Government and my intention
to conduct this war with as little injury as possible to peaceful inhabitants and
private property. I hope your Honours will exercise your authority to ensure
that it is conducted in a similar spirit on your side.”

Meanwhile the British Commander was rapidly maturing his plans.
Troops were pouring into the Cape and mysteriously departing none
knew whither. Great doings were in the air, and secret communications
between Lord Roberts and the wily General French—communications
which Boer spies endeavoured to intercept—promised
that the splendid fastnesses hitherto enjoyed by the enemy would
not much longer serve to keep him from the punishment that was
his due.

[Pg 136]

CHAPTER VII

THE WONDER OF THE WORLD

—Walt Whitman.

The eyes of Europe, and indeed of the universe, turned
upon the forces at war in Natal with amazement almost
akin to awe. There, in the eve of the twentieth
century, was presented a tenth wonder of the world!
Where, among the states, principalities, and powers,
could be found another example of an army being raised veritably
from all points of the compass to serve the Mother Country?
Whence in the history of heroic ages could be quoted the counterpart
of spontaneous, simultaneous, exultant patriotism such as was
brought forth by a few reverses to British arms? Here were men,
brothers, whom we had never seen, whose names we had never
heard, rushing to our side—influential citizens, judges, merchants,
landowners in the distant dominions of the Queen—throwing over
domestic comfort, ease, commercial advantage, political distinction,
for the sheer desire to barter breath for fame, and to win laurels
in the cause of the Empire. Our friends—the Powers—gazed and
rubbed their eyes and marvelled! Our enemies—the Powers—gazed,
rubbed their eyes, and—well! if they did not curse, they certainly
trod warily and pondered! We were providing an object-lesson
for eternity. The infinitesimal little island, the bird’s-nest of
the Little Englanders, was introducing to the nations her stalwart
progeny—introducing with the easy pride of motherhood gigantic
sons, all young and strong and well-grown, full of the vigour of
youth and the finest traits of the parent stock—a martial multitude,
clamouring to defend her in her hour of need! Yes, if our enemies—the
Powers—did not curse, they walked warily and pondered!

COLONEL W. D. OTTER.
Commanding the First Canadian Contingent.

They did wisely, for by the beginning of March the number of
Colonial troops at the front was approximately as follows: Cape
Colony, 15,000; Natal, 7000; Canada, 2820; Ceylon, 130; New[Pg 137]
South Wales, 1800; Queensland, 810; South Australia, 340; West
Australia, 230; Victoria, 500; Tasmania, 180; New Zealand, 730;
India, 250; total, 29,790. This tremendous increase in the size of
the Transvaal force was a magnificent spectacle for the world at
large. While it constituted the greatest military concentration in
the history of the Empire, it left the British possessions in India,
Malta, Crete, Barbadoes, Bermuda, Ceylon, Hong-Kong, Gibraltar,
and elsewhere, if not adequately, at least powerfully defended. For
instance, in India alone we had still a superb British army. It
was composed of forty-seven battalions of infantry, six regiments of
cavalry, sixty-two batteries of artillery, not to mention the enormous
Indian Army, of which the cavalry was styled by Lord Curzon
“the finest cavalry in the world.” Even then we were not at the
end of our tether. Conscription was undreamt of. Our military
resources had barely been tested. The display of loyalty to the
British flag, love for the Mother Country, and an ardent desire to
uphold her rights, had not been confined to Great Britain’s larger
colonies. Small contingents for South Africa had been offered by
Jamaica and Trinidad and elsewhere, and these, though gratefully
acknowledged, had been refused, mostly in cases where the contingents
were not large enough to constitute a military unit, and there
might have been trouble in the movement of the force.

The growth of Colonial offers of assistance from the time—the
10th of July—when Queensland sent an anticipatory telegram proposing
military aid, it is interesting to follow. Two days later, the
12th of July, came a telegram from Lord Brassey at Victoria, saying
that “offers have been received from Volunteers for service in South
Africa.” Five days passed. Then an offer of 300 men from the
Malay States Guides arrived, the High Commissioner intimating,
however, that he could not spare them. Three hundred Hausas
from Lagos volunteered on the 18th of July. On the 21st of that
month New South Wales offered 1860 officers, non-commissioned
officers, and men. The offer of Hong-Kong on the 21st of September
was followed by New Zealand’s Parliamentary resolution to
send a Transvaal Contingent. On the 5th of October Western
Australia came forward, and on the 9th Tasmania offered her unit.
On the 13th the offers of troops from South Australia and Canada
were “gratefully accepted.” Last, but not least, came the offer of
assistance from India, and additional help from those whose aid had
previously been given and acknowledged as invaluable.

Thus, by degrees, the whole concourse of Great Britain’s best was
gathered together, the flowers of her numerous flocks were drawn to
a common centre by the tie of blood and the pride of it—drawn to
a far quarter of the earth, there to demonstrate the crowning triumph
of British colonisation. The long-talked-of consolidation of the[Pg 138]
Anglo-Saxon race for the welfare and freedom of humanity was no
longer an idealist’s dream; it had become a living and a lasting
reality!

FIRST CANADIAN CONTINGENT

Early in the century the spirit of loyalty was developed in Canada. From
her first years, when Wolfe made Canada a colony of Great Britain, the
colonists began to recognise their debt to the British Crown. The feeling of
reverence and love for the Mother Country strengthened and grew with the
strength and growth of Canada itself, till the sentiment of Imperialism, always
silently existing, suddenly found almost passionate utterance in the month of
October 1899.

What came to pass a great man had foreseen. Sir John Macdonald, who
gauged aright the sentiment of the Canadians, described almost prophetically the
expansion of that sentiment, and pointed out the developments that might be
looked for in the future. In one of his pro-Confederation speeches he said:—

“Some are apprehensive that the fact of our forming this Confederation
will hasten the time when we shall be severed from the Mother Country. I
have no apprehension of that kind. I believe it will have the contrary effect.
I believe that as we grow stronger, as we become a people able, from our
union, our population, and the development of our resources, to take our
position among the nations of the world, she will be less willing to part with
us than now. I am strongly of opinion that year by year, as we grow in
population and strength, England will more see the advantage of maintaining
the alliance between British North America and herself. Does any one
imagine that when our population, instead of 3,500,000 will be 7,000,000, as it
will be ere many years pass, we would be one whit more willing than now to
sever the connection with England? The Colonies are now in a transition
state. Gradually a different colonial system is being developed, and it will become
year by year less a case of dependence on our part, and of overruling
protection on the part of the Mother Country, and more a case of healthy and
cordial alliance. Instead of looking upon us as a merely dependent colony,
England will have in us a friendly nation, a subordinate but still a powerful
people, to stand by her in North America in peace or in war.”

Many other prominent persons, Sir John Thompson, Sir Charles Tupper,
Sir Wilfred Laurier, shared the same opinion, and confidently asserted that
Great Britain had but to hold out her hand and the hand of Canada would go
out to meet it with firm and cordial grasp.

Then came the hour and the opportunity. Canada acted exactly as
Canada’s greatest men had expected her to act. She did not jump to action,
for the idea of participating in the active affairs of the Empire had scarcely
dawned upon her, but, the opening once made, Canada lost no time in availing
herself of it. Great things have small beginnings, and the grand movement
which has astonished the universe commenced in a simple manner.

While the possibility of war drifted like a small cloud on the horizon, a
certain Colonel Hughes, of Lindsay, Ontario, set to work to raise a volunteer
regiment for possible service in South Africa. In September 1899 he openly
expressed himself. In answer to energetic remonstrance he wrote, that
“unless the Government of the Dominion showed itself patriotic enough to do
its duty by the Imperial Government, he was justified in his action, the object
of which was to assist in upbuilding the British Empire and rendering justice[Pg 139]
to one’s fellow-countrymen, even at great sacrifice, and that as little delay as
possible should result on the outbreak of hostilities in enrolling a corps.” The
idea, to use the popular phrase, “caught on.” All the notabilities of the
Dominion put their heads together, with the result that, early as October 3, the
Canadian Military Institute in Toronto proposed to offer a Canadian Contingent
to the British Imperial Government, in the event of a war breaking out with
the Boers. It was also suggested and carried unanimously, that whereas all
the expenses of the Canadian Contingent sent to the aid of the British troops
in the Crimean War had been borne by the British Government, the expenses
of the Contingent it was now proposed to send to South Africa, should be provided
by the Dominion of Canada, that the Canadian Government should train,
arm, equip, transport, and pay the force raised, and, if necessary, pension those
deserving it. The offer of a Canadian Contingent was accordingly made
through the Government to the British Government, who accepted it with two
reservations—First, that the force raised should consist of 1000 men only;
Second, that half the expenses of the Contingent should be met by the Imperial
Government. To this the Canadians consented under protest, declaring,
however, that should any further assistance be required during the course of
the war, they would be ready and glad to send it.

Thousands of volunteers offered their services, but only a limited number
could be accepted. It was decided to allow each locality to have the honour
of taking part in the patriotic movement, and the formation of companies was
authorised as follows:—A Company, Manitoba and the North-West; B, London,
Ontario; C, Toronto; D, Ottawa and Kingston; E, Montreal; F, Quebec;
G, Fredericton and Prince Edward Island; H, Halifax.

The men were thus gathered from all parts of Canada, the smaller towns
sending from three to seven representatives each, and the larger ones supplying
some regulars from the city regiments, in addition to volunteers. The enrolling
and equipping of these 1000 volunteers, scattered as they had been over 3500
miles of territory, was accomplished in little more than a fortnight—a wonderful
feat in view of the pacific times enjoyed by the Colonials.

It was quite inspiriting to note the general activity. All the Dominion displayed
its loyalty in deeds as well as words. Men living in idleness and comfort,
professional men of standing, family men with innumerable ties, came to
the fore and volunteered their services; while employers assisted the splendid
movement by offering facilities to those serving them who might care to enlist.
Every soul insisted on taking his share in the Imperial doings. Those who
could not volunteer united their efforts and showed their loyalty by showering
gifts on the battalion. The officers and men of every company were presented
at their own headquarters with a sum of money varying according to rank, but
in each case of substantial value, as a contribution to their warlike needs.
Every officer received from public subscriptions a field-glass, revolver, and
$125 in money. Privates were presented with a silver match-box and $25.
The Bank of Ottawa contributed $1000 for the purchase of delicacies for the
men on their sea-voyage. In addition to this generosity, firms of all kinds sent
in their own manufacture, life insurances were effected on special terms for
officers and men of the battalion covering compensation for partial disablement,
and the telegraph and telephonic companies liberally agreed to transmit private
messages for all connected with the Contingent free of charge.

The mobilisation and concentration at Quebec of the composite battalion was
no mean undertaking, but it was accomplished by the 27th of October. On the
following night a dinner to the officers was given, and later, a smoking concert.[Pg 140]

On the 29th the special service battalion attended divine service, the
Catholics at the Cathedral, the Roman Catholics at the Basilica. The sermon
given at the Cathedral was a notable one, and served to mark the historical
nature of the occasion. Among other things, the Rev. J. G. Scott expressed
himself of sentiments that all might do well to read, mark, learn, and inwardly
digest. He said: “What is the Empire of which we are a part? It is not a
mere collection of subservient peoples adding to the revenue and importance of
a small island to the north-west of Europe. No; it is much more than that. It
is a vast federation of peoples of all nations, tongues, languages, and creeds
joined together in ‘liberty, equality, and fraternity,’ by common laws and a
common love to their real or their adopted mother. England and England’s flag
must remain the symbol of our common patriotism. But the British Empire,
the Empire of the future, the Empire rising with the sun of a new century, is
founded in deeper principles than mere sentimental devotion to the land of our
fathers. The principle underlying it is the liberty and brotherhood and welfare
of man. We conquer and advance. Wild lands come under our sway.
Savage races are subjugated or turn to us for protection. But all with what
result? With the result that the waste lands are cultivated, the hidden mines
of the earth yield up their treasures, continents are spanned by vast railways
and the bed of ocean by electric cables, with the result that the savage is
brought under the yoke of civilisation, and religion, education, and commerce
raise him almost to the level of a European. But this progress has not been,
nor can it be, unaccompanied by difficulties. At the present time our race in
its general advance is brought face to face with forces that retard, not merely
the growth of the British Empire, but the principles of freedom and humanity
which underlie it. The nineteenth century is confronted in South Africa with
a remnant of the seventeenth. Our brethren, oppressed by an intolerable
tyranny, cry to us for help, and we, a republic under a monarchical form, go to
crush a despotism under the form of a republic.”

This last phrase was a masterpiece, one that all who have enjoyed the
liberty, fraternity, and equality of our republican empire can fully appreciate.
Continuing, the preacher went on to say: “Surely, if we go forth firmly, fearlessly,
and mercifully to fight in such a cause, we can feel, like Israel of old, that
‘the Eternal God is our refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms, and
that He will thrust out the enemy from before us.’ And you, my brethren, who
are privileged to go forth under the flag of our Queen and the Empire, are the
representatives of a great people, formed of various creeds, and nationalities,
and languages, but blended in a common law and a common love for the liberty
which makes men—men. The call to arms from the Motherland has sent a
thrill to the four corners of the earth. The Empire, which has been knit together
by community of race, by commerce, by railways and by cables, is to be drawn
now into an absolutely indissoluble bond by the voluntary sacrifice of blood and
life on a common battlefield. No ordinary departure of troops to the front is
yours. You are the pioneers of a new era in our history. The importance of
this day is not to be measured, any more than was the importance of the great
battle in the Plains hard by, according to numerical computation. We have
taken a step, a step on the threshold of another century, which is destined in
time to put an end to the distinction of Colony and Motherland, and will finally
give us a voice in the conduct of the Empire. Surely, to those going forth as
champions in a noble cause, I cannot do better than to commend to you individually
the watchword of Israel’s—nay, of England’s strength, ‘The Eternal God
is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.’ There may come[Pg 141]
moments to some of you, in the irksomeness of discipline, in the pause before
the battle-charge, in the silence of lonely picket duty, or during sleepless nights
on the hospital pallet, when the memory of the parting service in these hallowed
walls—walls which, during this century, have seen many heroes arm at the call
of duty—will come back to you with the comfort which even the bravest need,
and you will feel that in life and death ‘the Eternal God is your refuge, and
underneath are the everlasting arms.’ Then, like the knights of old, consecrate
to-day your hearts and swords to God’s service, and you who are communicants
draw near to the altar of God and receive the strength which comes from the
Body and Blood of Christ. You are not a wild horde let loose in savage warfare,
but Christian men armed for a great cause. Keep then your lives pure—pure
as the memories of your Canadian home. Be sober, as men who can face danger
without artificial courage. Let the talk at mess and in camp be clean, and above
all remember to pay regularly the daily homage of prayer to your Heavenly
Father. Do not be ashamed to confess Christ before men.”

These heart-stirring words found their echo in every breast—the great body
of patriotic volunteers was thrilled through with the ambition to do great deeds
in a great way, to go forth and write their names in blood, if need be, alongside
of those of their brothers of the Anglo-Saxon race whose records loomed large
and indelible upon the scrip of Time.

In the evening the Governor-General entertained the superior officers and
staff at dinner, and on the following morning the last parade was held. Major-General
Hutton, commanding the Canadian Militia, commenced his inspection
at 11.30. At noon the Governor-General, the Premier, Sir Wilfred Laurier, and
other members of the Cabinet arrived on the ground. His Excellency addressed
the men as follows: “Colonel Otter, officers, non-commissioned officers,
and men of the Canadian Contingent, I congratulate you on the splendid
appearance of your regiment on parade, and Canada may justly be proud
of her representative troops. But, Colonel Otter, the force you command
represents a great deal more than a serviceable regiment on parade. We
are standing here upon historic ground, under the ramparts of the old
city of Quebec, surrounded by celebrated battlefields, and in an atmosphere
full of the glorious traditions of two great nations—nations who, respecting
each other’s warlike qualities on many a hard-fought field, have now joined
in common loyalty to their Queen and Empress. Your companies have been
gathered from British Columbia to the Atlantic coast, from the settlers in the
Rocky Mountains and the Far West, from Ontario and the Maritime Provinces,
and from the old French families of Quebec. They represent the manhood of
the Dominion from the west to the east, but, above all, they represent the
spontaneous offer of the people of Canada, British born and French Canadian,
to the Mother Country. The people of Canada have shown no inclination to
discuss the quibbles of Colonial responsibility; they have only unmistakably
asked that their loyal offers should be made known, and they rejoice in their
gracious acceptance. In so doing surely they have opened a new chapter
in the history of our Empire; they have freely made their military gift to an
Imperial cause, to share the privations, and the dangers, and the glories of an
Imperial army. They have insisted on giving vent to the expression of that
sentimental Imperial unity which may, perhaps, hereafter prove more binding
than any written Imperial constitution. The embarkation of your force, Colonel
Otter, to-day will mark a memorable epoch in the history of Canada and the
Empire. Of the success of your future we have no doubt; we shall watch
your departure with very full hearts, and shall follow your movements with[Pg 142]
eager enthusiasm. All Canada will long to see the Maple Leaf well to the
front, and to give her Contingent a glorious welcome home again. And now, as
the representative of Her Majesty, I wish you God speed and every success.”

Lord Minto then called on the men to give three cheers for the Queen,
which they did with all the zest of lusty Anglo-Saxon lungs.

Sir Wilfrid Laurier then addressed the regiment. He reminded them they
were going to obey the call of duty, that their cause was the cause of justice,
the cause of humanity and of civilisation. Men of our own race were
being unjustly oppressed, and the troops were going forth in the interests
of the Empire and of liberty. He rejoiced to see the alacrity with which
Canadians had responded to the call and rushed to the aid of the great Empire
of which all were so proud. He wished them God speed, and expressed his
confidence that they would be an honour to themselves and to their native land.

Major-General Hutton impressively assured the troops that their honour
was Canada’s honour, that their renown was Canada’s renown; and though
strain and hardships might be great, they would remember that in the far-off
Dominion thousands of men and women looked to the Royal Canadian Regiment
to uphold the honour of their native land. French Canadians and English
Canadians must recollect the responsibility that would rest upon their shoulders,
and he knew they would acquit themselves well of their duties.

Then followed an address by the Hon. S. Parent, Mayor of Quebec. He
read: “The citizens of Quebec offer you the most cordial welcome in this old
fortress, so often stormed by war and tempest, whose inhabitants, from their
earliest years, have been accustomed to the music of military bands, to the
smell of powder and the smoke of battles. We are proud of the honour that
has been done our city in its selection as the scene of the mobilisation of this
select regiment which the Canadian people send to the assistance of our Mother
Country. The presence in our midst of the representative of our Most Gracious
Sovereign, His Excellency the Governor-General, and other dignitaries of the
State, adds not only lustre and éclat to this day’s ceremony, but gives to our
proceedings a deeper and wider meaning. It was no vain appeal that was
made to our valour and our loyalty, for along the way from Victoria to Halifax,
a thousand picked men, representing the youth, physical strength, the discipline
and the courageous daring of our people, freely volunteered to serve under the
British flag. The people of various origin and different religious creeds that go
to make up the population of this country are represented in your regiment,
and now that we are, for the time being, assembled within the walls of the
most French city of the New World, let us claim for the French-Canadian
element a large share of the warm and spontaneous outburst of sentiments
of loyalty to England which marked your triumphal passage from your homes
to Quebec. No matter how diverse may be our origin and the languages that
we speak, who is there that will dare to affirm that we have not all the qualities
necessary for the making of a real nation? Who dare say, upon such an
occasion as the present, that we are not all sincerely united and loyal towards
the Canadian Dominion, and loyal to England which has given us so complete
a measure of liberty? We French-Canadians have loyally accepted the new
destinies that Providence provided for us upon the battlefield of 1759. Is it
possible that anybody can have forgotten 1775 and 1812? On the summit of
this proud rock of Quebec, rendered illustrious by Jacques Cartier and Champlain,
behold, but a few steps from this place, the superb monument erected
by an English Governor to the memory of Wolfe and of Montcalm! Why
may we not make it the emblem and the symbol of our national unity? Let[Pg 143]
us leave to each individual amongst us the privilege to retain, as a sweet
souvenir worthy of a noble heart, the rose, the thistle, the fleur-de-lys, or
the shamrock, and even the pot of earth that the Irish immigrant brings
with him from under distant skies, and let us be united for the great and holy
cause that we have in hand: the foundation of a great nation and the development
of the boundless resources of a rich and immense country. Our best
wishes accompany you in the long journey, at the end of which you will,
no doubt, find glory as well as suffering, privations, and perhaps even heroic
sacrifices. When you will be under the burning sun of Africa, you may be
sure that our hearts will follow you everywhere, and that in our long winter
evenings you will be the principal object of our fireside talk and solicitude.
Be quite sure, too, that this Canada of ours will watch with a maternal care
over the loved ones that you leave behind you, and who, in parting with you,
are making so great and generous a sacrifice. May the God of battles crown
your efforts! May He preserve you in the midst of danger! And may He
bring you back safe and sound to the beloved shores of your fatherland!”

Never was more impressive scene, and even the stoutest warriors among the
audience were thrilled with the consciousness of the solemnity of the moment,
the sacredness of their future duty. Colonel Otter, who was much moved,
replied as a soldier—briefly, but to the point. He thanked all around for their
goodwill, and expressed his confidence that the Canadian Contingent would do
its duty and do honour to the land of its birth.

The list of the principal officers was as follows:—

To command—Lieut.-Colonel W. D. Otter, Canadian Staff, A.D.C. to His
Excellency the Governor-General. To be Major and second in command—Lieut.-Colonel
L. Buchan, Royal Canadian Regiment. To be Major—Lieut.-Colonel
O. C. C. Pelletier, Canadian Staff. To be Adjutant—Major J. C. M’Dougall,
Royal Canadian Regiment. To be Quartermaster—Capt. and Brevet-Major
S. J. A. Denison, Royal Canadian Regiment. To be Medical Officers—Surgeon-Major
C. A. Wilson, 3rd Field Battery, C.A.; Surgeon-Major E. Fiset, 89th
Batt. To be attached for Staff duty—Major L. G. Drummond, Scots Guards,
Military Secretary to His Excellency the Governor-General. A Company
(British Columbia and Manitoba).—To be Captain—Capt. M. G. Blanchard,
5th Regt. C.A. Major H. M. Arnold, 90th Batt.; Capt. A. E. Hodkins,
Nelson R. Co.; Lieut. S. P. Layborn, R.C.R.I. B Company (London)—Major
Duncan Stuart, 26th Batt.; Capt. J. C. Mason, 10th Batt.; Capt. J. M.
Ross, 22nd Batt.; Second Lieut. R. H. M. Temple, 48th Highlanders.
C Company (Toronto)—Capt. R. K. Barker, Q.O.R.; Lieut. J. C. Ogilvie,
R.C.A.; Lieut. W. R. Marshall, 13th Batt.; Lieut. G. S. Wilkie, 10th Batt.
D Company (Ottawa and Kingston)—Major S. M. Rogers, 43rd Batt.; Capt.
W. T. Lawless, G.G.F.G.; Lieut. R. G. Stewart, 43rd Batt.; Lieut. A. C.
Caldwell, 42nd Batt. E Company (Montreal)—Capt. A. H. Macdonell, R.C.R.I.;
Capt. C. K. Fraser, 53rd Batt.; Lieut. A. E. Swift, 8th Batt.; Lieut. A.
Laurie, P. of W. R. F Company (Quebec)—Capt. J. E. Pelletier, 65th Batt.;
Capt. H. A. Panet, R.C.A.; Lieut. L. Leduc, R.C.R.I.; Lieut. E. A. Pelletier,
55th Batt. G Company (New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island)—Major
W. A. Weeks, Charlottetown Engineers; Capt. F. C. Jones, 3rd Regt. C.A.;
Lieut. J. H. Kaye, R.C.R.I.; Second Lieut. C. W. W. M’Lean, 8th Hussars.
H Company (Halifax)—Capt H. B. Stairs, 66th Batt.; Capt. H. E. Burstall,
R.C.A.; Lieut. R. B. Willis, 66th Batt.; Second Lieut. J. C. Oland, 63rd Batt.
Machine-Gun Section—Lieut. and Capt. A. C. Bell, Scots Guards, A.D.C. to
the Major-General commanding the Canadian Militia.[Pg 144]

The following officers were attached to the Royal Canadian Regiment for
whatever duty might be allotted to them in connection with the campaign:
Lieut.-Colonel F. L. Lessard, Royal Canadian Dragoons; Lieut.-Colonel C. W.
Drury, A.D.C., Royal Canadian Artillery; Major R. Cartwright, Royal Canadian
Regiment; Capt. W. Forester, Royal Canadian Dragoons. Medical officer—Capt.
A. B. Osborne, C.A.M.S. (provisional).

By five o’clock in the afternoon all was over. The great ship Sardinian,
with slow dignity, as though conscious of the gallant burden she was bearing
to battle, sailed out into the great immensity of sea and sky. Cheers rent the
air, tears—the tears not of personal grief, but of sympathetic patriotism—dimmed
every eye. Many sorrowed, but many more were overwhelmed with
sheer joy and pride to see this goodly throng going forth to do martial deeds,
and bring back laurels to crown the land that Wolfe had made glorious.
Slowly and with precision the minute guns boomed from the Citadel, loudly,
the bands played the well-loved tunes, the “Maple Leaf” and “God Save the
Queen.” Swiftly now sped the Sardinian, flaunting her gay decorations, and
bearing on the bosom of the water a thousand of Canada’s best, a thousand
brave hearts and true.

THE SECOND CANADIAN CONTINGENT

After the departure of the first Contingent the loyalty of Canada continued
to increase. Every incident of the war was carefully watched and discussed,
the great deeds that were on foot found lavish appreciation. At numerous
meetings which took place in various parts of Canada the spirit of the country
was described by such declarations as: “We, too, are loyal Britons, and our
patriotism is at its best when our country needs us most.”

On November 7th Canada made the offer to the British Government of a
second Contingent for South Africa, and on December 18th Sir Wilfred Laurier
received a cablegram from Mr. Joseph Chamberlain accepting the offer. As
one of the Canadian Ministry afterwards said, “It did not take much more
than five minutes for the Cabinet to decide that the Hon. F. W. Borden,
Minister of Militia, should immediately instruct his officers at the Militia
Department to go on with the preparations for sending the second Contingent.”
The fact was that most of the details had been ready for a month and more.
The Minister of Militia had early come to the conclusion that a second Contingent
of Canadians should be gathered together in the form of cavalry or
mounted infantry and artillery.

The first to be given a chance of enlisting for South Africa were the
Mounted Police. Forty-eight hours later steps were taken towards recruiting
200 Prairie Cowboys, men who could ride and shoot as well as any cavalrymen
in the world, and who are accustomed to subsisting on the scantiest of rations.
Next came the Royal Canadian Dragoons, regulars, who were mounted on
well-trained horses, and so well drilled as to make it possible for every man
of them to instruct the less trained recruits during the voyage. The Boers
having a healthy horror of the lance as a cavalry weapon, it was decided that
half at least of Canada’s cavalry should be given this arm.

LADY MINTO PRESENTING COLOURS TO HERCHMER’S HORSE, ON LEAVING OTTAWA, 19th JAN. 1900.
Drawing by J. H. Bacon, from Photo by J. C. Hemment.

It was considered that the Cowboys, and such “Plainsmen of the West” as
Herchmer’s Horse, broncho busters who had never been conquered by man or
horse, would be specially valuable in the style of warfare affected by the Boers.
With nerves of steel and thews of wire, they could speak without boasting of
their capacity for putting in thirty-six hours consecutively in the saddle, and
for living “on the smell of an oiled rag.[Pg 145]”

Ardent volunteers who had failed to get a place in the first Contingent now
rushed forward from every side. The sole disappointment was, that only a
limited number could be accepted, and those must all be mounted men or
artillery.

The wild enthusiasm aroused by the brave and splendid work of that portion
of the first Canadian Contingent which was with Colonel Pilcher in South
Africa, and the inspiring accounts given by the correspondent of the Toronto
Globe, resulted in more volunteering, and a third Contingent could easily have
been raised, even after the rigorous medical examination had rejected numbers.

The people of Canada responded nobly to the call for funds to provide for
the families of their volunteers on service in South Africa, the large amounts
subscribed by the Banks of Montreal and British North America, followed by
donations of 15,000 dollars by the Canadian Pacific Railway and 2000 dollars
by Holsen’s Bank, having served to stimulate action in this direction. The
City Council of Toronto insured for 1000 dollars the lives of all the 123 men
they had sent to form part of the second Contingent.

On January 19, the Dominion Government, in a house which cheered
itself hoarse in response to patriotic speeches, decided to offer, if required,
12,000 men to the Imperial Parliament for service in South Africa. Lord
Strathcona meantime, at his own expense, raised a mounted battalion for
service, which was to be ready to sail on February 10 for South Africa,
the War Office having given their consent to the formation of the corps. The
matter was placed in the hands of the Hon. Dr. Borden, Canadian Minister of
Militia and Defence, who was given a free hand to recommend officers, organise
and equip the corps, Lord Strathcona reserving only the right to reject or
confirm his decisions.

The following officers left for the front at the end of January: Officers of D
Battery—Major W. G. Hurdman, Capt. D. J. V. Eaton; Lieutenants, first section,
T. W. Vantuyl; second section, J. M’Crea; third section, E. W. B. Morrison.
Officers of E Battery—Major G. H. Ogilvie; Capt. R. Costigan; Lieutenants,
first section, W. F. Murray; second section, A. T. Ogilvie; third section, W. G.
Good. Officers attached for duty—Captain H. J. Uniacke; Adjutant, Captain
H. C. Thatcher; Medical Officer, Surgeon-Major A. Worthington; Veterinary
Officer, Veterinary-Major Massie. These were followed by Regimental Staff
Commander Lieut.-Colonel Herchmer; Adjutant Lieut. Montague Baker;
Transport Officer, Lieut. Eustace; Quartermaster, Captain Allan; Medical
Officer, Surg.-Capt. Devine; Veterinary Officer, Lieut. R. Riddell. In
command of squadrons, Majors Howe and Sanders; Captains Cuthbert and
Macdonnell; Lieutenants Begin, Davidson, Wroughton, Cosby, Chalmers,
Taylor, and Inglis.

When the mounted section of the second Canadian Contingent, numbering
eighty men, started, some twelve extra men were invited to volunteer. To
meet the demand no less than 400 applicants, many of them men of independent
means, instantly came forward. Here was a remarkable proof of
martial spirit, of devotion to the cause of the Mother Country. Vanity some
said it was. Any way, it was a vanity fringing on the sublime.

It is interesting to note, that before the gallant members of the second Contingent
left for Halifax they were presented with guidons by Lady Minto, the
gifts being inscribed with the motto of the Elliot clan—“Wha daur meddle wi’
me.” This delicate mark of attention was highly appreciated by the men.

Early in February the Mounted Bushmen’s Corps of 300 men and horses
started for the Cape. All the Canadians, volunteers it must be remembered,[Pg 146]
were picked men from all parts of the Dominion, and with them were scouts
from British Columbia, who, for the most part, were recruited from the
Mounted Police of the North-West and from Cowboys. Being about the
smartest riders and best shots in the world, it was felt that they would
distinguish themselves in the war game as played by the Boers.

Among those at the front prominently connected with Canada was Captain
Kirkpatrick, Royal Engineers, who was attached to the staff of Sir Redvers
Buller. This officer is a graduate of the Royal Military College, Kingston,
and on leaving that institution received a commission in the Royal Engineers.
When the war broke out, Captain Kirkpatrick was ordered from Malta to South
Africa, where he commanded the Fortress Company of the Royal Engineers.
Major Denison, a prominent officer in the Royal Canadian Infantry, who had
personal charge of the recruiting for the first Canadian Contingent, and was
appointed quartermaster to the battalion at Quebec, had the honour in January
of being appointed aide-de-camp on the staff of Lord Roberts.

Another of the patriotic band was Colonel Girouard (the French Canadian
of Egyptian fame), who assisted Lord Kitchener and the Engineers in marvellous
operations along the line of rail. This officer has achieved a glorious
reputation, one which has been declared to be a closer bond between French
Canada and Great Britain than any words. Another honoured Canadian, who
was mortally wounded in the attack near Spearman’s Camp on the 20th
of January, was Captain Hensley (Dublin Fusiliers). This gallant officer was
born at Charlottetown and educated at King’s College, Windsor, whence he
passed into the Royal Military College.

Major-General Hutton, commanding the Canadian Militia, early in the year
was selected for special service in South Africa. No better officer could have
been chosen. He had ample experience of the subject in hand, as he himself
stated in speaking to the Canadian Contingent before their departure:
“It was my lot to have seen two campaigns in South Africa, including the
campaign against the Boers in 1882. It was also—I was going to say my
privilege—it was certainly not my pleasure—to have been at Pretoria at the
time the present Convention was made; and I therefore know their leaders,
and a little something—I may say almost too much—of South Africa and the
Transvaal, and therefore I recognise perhaps more clearly than many of you
do the very great difficulties and the dangers which our Contingent and the
Imperial troops in South Africa are exposed to.”

STRATHCONA’S HORSE

Strathcona’s Horse, consisting of 530 men and 560 horses, was commanded
by Colonel Steele of the North-West Mounted Police. He is regarded as an
ideal officer for a scouting force, and his men were all picked men, the cream
of the expert riders and riflemen of the Dominion. Morally and physically
they were declared to be the best soldiers that have ever been enrolled in Canada.
Their mounts were small shaggy bronchos, but sturdy long stayers. In regard
to Lord Strathcona’s timely generosity it is impossible to say enough—the
general appreciation of his splendid and patriotic act is expressed in the following
resolution, which was adopted by the Executive Committee of the
British Empire League in Canada: “That the Executive Committee of the
British Empire League in Canada has heard with unqualified satisfaction of the
magnificent undertaking of Lord Strathcona and Mount Royal, a Vice-President
of this League, to raise, equip, and support, at his entire expense, a corps[Pg 147]
of mounted troops composed of Canadians for service for the Empire in the
South African war, and desires to place on record its enthusiastic appreciation
of his patriotic munificence, and is certain that his work will yet further convince
the rest of the Empire of Canada’s devotion to the cause.” Speaking of
this noble promoter of his country’s weal, Lieutenant Cooper, Q.V.R., said:
“Generously has the British Empire done by Lord Strathcona, and generously
and freely has Lord Strathcona done by the Empire. Under the ægis of the
Union Jack in Scotland, Donald Alexander Smith spent the first eighteen years
of his life. In 1838 he entered the service of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and
learned the intricacies of North American trade in Labrador and the North-West.
In later years he took a prominent part in the organisation of the
Canadian Government in the newly-acquired Rupert’s Land, and was intimately
connected with the early official days of Manitoba and the North-West Territories.
After representing Montreal for two terms in the Dominion Parliament,
he was appointed Canadian High Commissioner in London, England, a position
which he still fills to the satisfaction of the Canadian people. In 1897 he was
raised to the peerage as Baron Strathcona and Mount Royal of Glencoe and
Montreal.”

The force, equipped after the manner of other mounted troops, and not
armed with lances, was paid by Lord Strathcona until it landed in South
Africa, when it was taken over by the Imperial Government. As in the case
of the Contingents from the various Colonies, the officers of the corps were
appointed as follows: S. B. Steele, gent., Canadian North-West Mounted
Police, to be Lieut.-Colonel, with the temporary rank of Lieut.-Colonel in the
army. To be Majors, with the temporary rank of Major in the army: Lieut.
R. C. Laurie, Canadian Militia Reserve of Officers; R. Belcher, Inspector
Canadian North-West Mounted Police; A. M. Jarvis, Inspector Canadian
North-West Mounted Police; A. E. Synder, Inspector Canadian North-West
Mounted Police. D. M. Howards, Canadian North-West Mounted Police, to be
Captain, with the temporary rank of Captain in the army. To be Lieutenants,
with the temporary rank of Lieutenant in the army: Major G. W. Camden,
Canadian Militia; Captains R. M. Courtney, Canadian Militia; J. J. Macdonald,
Canadian Militia; E. F. Mackie, Canadian Militia; Lieutenants T. E. Pooley,
Canadian Militia; R. H. B. Magee, Canadian Militia Reserve of Officers; Second
Lieutenant P. Fall, Canadian Militia; F. L. Cartwright, Inspector Canadian
North-West Mounted Police; A. E. Christie, Inspector Canadian North-West
Mounted Police; J. E. Leckie, Graduate Royal Military College, Kingston,
Canada; A. W. Strange, gent., late Canadian Militia. Lieutenant M. P.
Cotton, Canadian Militia, to be Lieutenant for Machine-Gun Detachment,
with the temporary rank of Lieutenant in the Army. W. Parker,
Canadian North-West Mounted Police, to be Quartermaster, with the temporary
rank of Lieutenant in the army. C. B. Keenan, gent., M.D., to
be Medical Officer, with the temporary rank of Captain. Dr. M’Millan
of Brandon was appointed Veterinary Surgeon for the Strathcona Horse. His
assistant was Mr. Millican, of Rapid City, Manitoba.

The regiment was recruited from a territory covering a million square miles,
some men having travelled from Yukon and the Peace River district in order
to enlist. Many distinguished men were among them. In one troop were to
be found Mr. Beresford (formerly a Naval officer), cousin of the Marquis of
Waterford; Mr. Warren, son of Colonel Warren, R.H.A.; Mr. Shaw, son of a
Baronet; Mr. O’Brien, a kinsman of Lord Inchiquin; Hon. Mr. Cochrane, son
of the now notable Lord Dundonald; and Lord Seymour. Colonel Steele[Pg 148]
(N.W.M.P.), in command of the corps, is a son of a Captain in the Royal
Navy. He was born in Canada, and is noted for his bravery and devotion to
duty. Major Belcher, a notable swordsman and lancer, was for some years in
the 9th Lancers. The troops received an enthusiastic send off, and multitudes
gathered together to do honour to the latest addition of Great Britain’s army.
Several beautiful guidons were presented to the corps by the ladies of Ottawa.
Each was made of crimson silk, with a broad white stripe through the centre,
on which was embroidered in crimson letters, “Strathcona’s Horse.” On the
upper crimson bar was Lord Strathcona’s motto, “Perseverance,” done in
crimson on a white garter. Above the garter was a Baron’s coronet and tiny
brown beaver on a green maple leaf. On the lower crimson bar was the
squadron’s designation.

NEW SOUTH WALES

New South Wales fell into line with the other Australasian Colonies, and
decided to send a military force for service with the Imperial army in South
Africa.

The New South Wales Lancers, who had been in training at Aldershot,
were the first to start. They were then about to return home, but were
stopped en route, and proceeded to the Cape. Of their number some few
refused to serve and went home, but on arrival many offered to return to the
front. The rest gave satisfactory reasons for being unable to do so. Subsequently
another Contingent was sent, and also the Bushmen Corps, at least
1000 strong. It was composed of men who could ride well, shoot splendidly,
and were accustomed to camping out and roughing it in pursuit of their usual
vocations. It must be noted that this was not the first time that New South
Wales had come to the assistance of the Mother Country. A force went to
Egypt in the earlier Soudan wars, when one man was wounded. Some discontent
at that time was shown owing to the troops not being allowed to go to
the front. On this occasion they were to serve and fare as the Imperial troops,
and to be considered as such while in the field.

Each Contingent was composed of—1st, N.S.W. Lancers; First Australian
Horse; N.S.W. Artillery; Mounted Rifles; Infantry, who, being good horsemen,
were subsequently mounted by the Imperial Government. 2nd Contingent
consisted of three Mounted Rifle units of 125 men each, one unit of
Australian Horse of 100 men (475), one Battery of Artillery—18 officers,
175 men, 140 horses (629). The total of the New South Wales troops at
the front in February amounted to 1331 men.

Though not at first very enthusiastic in expressions of patriotism, New
South Wales soon became strong in deeds. Enthusiasm became epidemical.
Mr. Lyne, the Premier, threw himself into the movement, and rapidly
pushed forward the arrangements, and did all in his power to move in sympathy
with the patriotic feelings of the Colony, which were daily growing more
ardent. As a practical expression of the intensity of their patriotism, the
citizens arranged and subscribed for the despatch of 500 expert roughriders
and Bush marksmen, while the New South Wales Government assisted by
supplying arms and ammunition.

The volunteers were all part, or had formed part, of the land forces. The
only actual regular regiment, as understood by us, was the artillery, a small
company of Submarine Mining Engineers, 27; Army Service Corps, 10; and
Army Medical Staff, 11. All the rest were partially paid or volunteers. The men[Pg 149]
came from the whole country, and were men who were serving in the various
corps either as volunteers or partially paid troops. All the infantry corps were
volunteers—all cavalry regiments and some of the field and garrison artillery
were partially paid troops, and were called regulars, though not on the permanent
staff. The officers of the Contingents were—1. Captain C. F. Cox,
N.S.W. Lancers, Major Bridges, N.S.W. Artillery, Captain Legge, General
Staff N.S.W. Inf.; 2. Major and Brevet Lieut.-Colonel Thomas Samuel Parrott,
V. D. Corps of Engineers, an officer who served in 1885 with the Australian
Contingent in the Soudan. Colonel Sydenham Smith com. Artillery; Major
J. H. Plunkett Murray, com. 8th Inf. (Union Regiment); Captain and temporary
Major P. T. Owen, General Staff; Staff officer for Engineer services, Captain
L. H. Kyngdon, N.S.W. Regt. R.A.; Captain A. P. Popham Luscombe;
N.S.W. Regt. R.A.A., Captain Henry P. Ramsay Copeland. Reserve of
officers—Captain R. St. Julien Pearce; N.S.W. Art. (Field), Lieutenant R. S.
Hay Blake Jenkins; N.S.W. Regt. R.A.A., Lieutenant C. F. Bracen, N.S.W.
Art. (garrison). 1st Aus. (Vol.) Horse unit—1st Lieut. R. R. Thompson, Permanent
Staff, with rank Captain; 2nd Lieutenant J. F. Moore Wilkinson, 1st
Aus. Horse (Vol.), with rank 1st Lieutenant; 1st Lieutenant Keith Kinnaird
Mackellar, 5th Inf. (Vol.) Regt.; Lieutenant B. J. Newmarch, N.S.W.A.M.C.;
Lieutenant J. A. Dick, N.S.W.A.M.C.; Lieutenant A. H. Horsfall, N.S.W.A.M.C.
Additional officers—Dr. A. MacCormick, to be Consulting Surgeon,
hon. rank Major; Dr. R. Scot-Skirving, to be Consulting Surgeon, hon. rank
Major; Dr. W. R. Cortis, rank Captain; N. R. Howse, rank Lieutenant.
Chaplains—Church of England—Rev. H. J. Rose, hon. rank Major; Rev.
Patrick Fagan, hon. rank Captain.

The first Contingent reached Cape Town (from London) on November 2,
1899. The second Contingent started on January 17th and 18th in three transports;
these, while in dock, had to be watched, as some Boer sympathisers
were suspected of wishing to set fire to them. Nevertheless there were most
remarkable demonstrations of loyalty on all sides, and the troops went off in
high feather, having been previously addressed by Mr. Lyne in the following
stirring speech: “I wish to tell you that every man and woman in this country
is not so proud of anything as of you. You are not enlisting in the ordinary
sense of the term, in that you are volunteering to serve with the British troops
in the interests of the Empire. You are certain to meet a foe such as Great
Britain has not met for some considerable time, and I feel we shall all be
proud of your deeds. It is admitted that you are particularly useful, knowing
bush life and being able readily to seize commanding points. Great Britain is
finding that her Colonies form a valuable nursery ground, and we, on our part,
are prepared to supply Great Britain with a force which is rapidly becoming a
powerful adjunct of the British arms. You will be placed where you must
show energy and determination, and must manifest pluck and courage, and
we believe that you will bring back as a reward a wide recognition that
our arms have been of service to the Empire. You will make a name for us
such as rarely falls to the lot of a youthful country. You will show the
world that the Empire is united, and that we are prepared to defend her
and our homes if the necessity arises. We in Australia wish you God-speed,
and every heart here beats in accord with every loyal heart in South
Africa. I can only add, for those who may fall, that their memories will be
revered, and you depart knowing that the loved ones of those yielding their
lives will be tended by a generous Government and a generous public. Again
I wish you God-speed, and may you return covered with all honour.[Pg 150]”

On the 19th of January the Premier received the following cable: “Her
Majesty’s Government learn with great satisfaction of the despatch of the Contingent
and the patriotic feeling in New South Wales. The Queen commands
me to express her thanks for these renewed expressions of loyalty.

“Chamberlain.”

VICTORIA

The Victorian Contingent started off with the same flourish of trumpets and
the same outbursts of popular feeling which had accompanied all the Transvaal
Contingents. There was a mixture of song and shout, of sorrow and tears.
The weather was unchangeably splendid; the city of Melbourne was thronged
with visitors to witness the unusual sight, the crowd being augmented by
numerous Tasmanians who journeyed across the straits to get a last glimpse
at the brave band of warriors as they started on their voyage. Lord Brassey
gave a short address, and in the name of the Queen wished them God-speed.

First Victorian Contingent for South Africa.—Nominal Roll
of Officers of the Victorian Contingent for service in South Africa, sent in
accordance with the cablegram of the Right Honourable the Secretary of
State for the Colonies of 4th October 1899: Major G. A. Eddy, Captain
(Medical Staff) W. F. Hopkins, Lieutenant T. M. M’Inerney, Lieutenant H.
W. Pendlebury, Lieutenant A. J. N. Tremearne. Mounted Infantry Unit—Captain
M’Leish, Lieutenant and Adjutant Salmon, Lieutenant Thorn, Lieutenant
Chomley, Lieutenant Staughton, Lieutenant Roberts, Veterinary-Captain
Kendall.

The following officers were attached for instruction in accordance with the
cablegram of the Right Honourable the Secretary of State for the Colonies,
dated 27th October 1899: Colonel J. C. Hoad, Lieutenant-Colonel C. E. E.
Umphelby, Captain G. J. Johnston, Captain J. H. Bruche. Transport Officer
for service with troops for South Africa on board s.s. Medic—Lieutenant-Commander
W. J. Colquhoun.

Second Victorian Contingent for South Africa (two companies
of mounted infantry).—Nominal Roll of Officers who embarked on
s.s. Euryalus on 13th January 1900 for service in South Africa: Colonel T.
Price, Captain D. H. Jenkins, Lieutenant T. H. Sergeant, Lieutenant T. F.
Umphelby, Lieutenant G. O. Bruce, Lieutenant A. A. Holdsworth, Lieutenant
M. T. Kirby, Lieutenant E. O. Anderson, Lieutenant T. A. Umphelby, Lieutenant
E. S. Norton, Lieutenant R. S. R. S. Bree, Lieutenant and Adjutant J.
L. Lilley, Major (Medical Staff) A. Honman, Chaplain Rev. F. W. Wray,
Veterinary-Captain H. S. Rudduck. Officer attached for special service with
Army Service Corps: Lieutenant A. J. Christie.

In addition to these Contingents the Colony contributed 250 Bushmen,
making in all up to the month of April, 751; officers, 46.

Among the officers of the Victorian Contingent were some whose careers
were particularly interesting:—

Lieut.-Colonel Charles Edward Ernest Umphelby was forty-six years of
age, and a native of Victoria. He commanded the V.R.A.A. He joined the
Militia Garrison Artillery at Warrnambool on the 20th June 1884; in March
1885 was appointed lieutenant in the Permanent Artillery, being promoted to
be captain on the 1st January 1888. In August 1891 he was promoted to
be major, and in June 1897 to the rank of lieutenant-colonel. In addition to
commanding the artillery he also commanded the Western District Garrison
Artillery. He was sent to England by the Victorian Government in 1889[Pg 151]
to undergo courses of instruction, and while there was attached to the staff
of Major-General Clarke. He passed through various artillery courses, including
the long course at Woolwich and Shoeburyness.

Captain George Jamieson Johnston is a Victorian native, and is thirty-one
years of age. He is an officer of the Field Artillery Brigade, which is commanded
by Lieutenant-Colonel Kelly. Captain Johnston was appointed lieutenant
on the 11th January 1889, and was promoted to be captain on the 1st
July 1895. He is well known as a straight and regular follower of the Melbourne
Hounds.

Captain Julius Henry Bruche was born on the 6th March 1873, and educated
at the Scotch College, Melbourne. His first experience of military work was
in the ranks, and as an officer in the cadet corps, under Major W. Whitehead.
After leaving the Scotch College cadets he was appointed to the senior cadets,
and from them was transferred to the 1st Battalion Infantry Brigade as a
lieutenant on 15th May 1891. Whilst in the 1st Battalion he passed the
examination for captain, “distinguished in all subjects.” He was appointed
permanent adjutant of the 1st and 2nd Battalions of the Infantry Brigade on
the 18th July 1898, and was promoted to the position of captain on the 17th
February 1899, after passing the examination for regular officers, and going
through a course of musketry and Maxim machine-gun, obtaining an officer’s
extra certificate, and a certificate as qualified as instructor of the Maxim machine-gun.
Captain Bruche is a barrister and solicitor, but gave up his profession to
join the permanent staff of the Victorian forces.

It may here be mentioned that Victoria has the distinction of being the
birthplace of Dr. Robert Andrew Buntine, who was mentioned for bravery at
the battle of Glencoe in Sir George White’s despatches. Dr. Buntine was born
on the 13th of November 1869. He matriculated in the Melbourne University
with honours, and at once entered upon his medical course, where he acquitted
himself with some distinction, for although close upon a hundred students
entered their curriculum with him, only five (and he was one of them) passed
consecutively all their examinations with honours. In 1890 he graduated with
honours, and took his M.B., Ch.M. degrees. He then became one of the resident
surgeons of the Melbourne Hospital for a year. After that, and the hard
work of the University, he decided upon a year’s travel. Accordingly, he travelled
first in South Africa, and then in Great Britain for some months, visiting many
interesting historical spots, and finally returning to South Africa, where he
bought a practice in partnership with Dr. Currie, of Pietermaritzburg, Natal.
Both are surgeons in the army, Dr. Buntine being surgeon to the Volunteers,
and Dr. Currie to the Carabineers.

NEW ZEALAND

On the 21st of October, the anniversary of Trafalgar, Wellington was
very early astir. Great were her preparations to commemorate the departure
of her Contingent—the first Contingent to embark from the Colonies. Bunting
began to break out before breakfast, and town and shipping were soon fluttering
with flags. In the streets groups were congregating at a time when people
are usually given up to business, and uniforms everywhere dotted the thoroughfare.
Large numbers of volunteers came in from the country, some travelling
all night, and there was a turn out of local forces amounting to 1500.

The march through the town began at 1.20 P.M. It was an inspiriting
sight, and one that all wished to bear in memory. The road at intervals was so
dotted with cameras, that one humourist in the ranks was heard to remark that[Pg 152]
this was the “real original March of the Camera Men.” The crowds thickened
and enthusiasm increased. Jervois Quay, the broadest avenue in the city, as
well the open land abutting on it, was thronged from end to end. All the roofs
commanding a view were lined, the steamers at the wharves were packed even
to the rigging, and the long breastwork along the quay was crammed to
suffocation.

Here the passage for the Contingent was kept by a double row of
volunteers. The weather had been frowning and gusty, but no sooner had the
Contingent formed up in front of a temporary stand projecting from the breastwork,
on which Lord Ranfurly, the Governor, Lady Ranfurly and suite were
accommodated, than the sun burst forth resplendent while the wind gently
lulled. Speeches were made, followed by pathetic leave-takings of friends and
relatives. At the last moment so great was the crush that some of the men
were cut off from the rest, and had afterwards to struggle to the steamer as
best they could.

As the big vessel slowly steamed off, cries of farewell, shouts, cheers rent
the air, and continued unceasingly, till the Waiwera bearing New Zealand
“Soldiers of the Queen” to the scene of war, had passed from sight.

The first New Zealand Contingent was commanded by Major Robin, who is
a splendid example of the born warrior. Originally a gunner in the B Battery
New Zealand Artillery, he rose in the Otago Hussars through all the
grades of non-commissioned officers to command of the troop. This regiment
from that time was unsurpassed in efficiency by any in the Colony. As an
instance of the pluck and energy of the gallant major, a characteristic story
is told: When Sir John Richardson died he was accorded a military funeral,
and was interred in the Northern Cemetery. On the day of the funeral the
Leith was in high flood, and there was a general opinion that the Dundas
Street Bridge would not bear the weight of the gun-carriage bearing the
honoured remains. Major Robin at once volunteered to drive the gun-carriage
across, and accomplished the dangerous task without mishap.

Major Robin took charge of the New Zealand Contingent which attended
the Diamond Jubilee, and had the honour of commanding the mixed Colonial
escort which accompanied the Queen on her visit to London during the
celebrations.

Captain Madocks, who distinguished himself in the fight of the 15th of
January at Slingersfontein, is a Wellington man, full of pluck and resource,
and as we now know, admirably calculated to become a leader of men.

The second Contingent, under the command of Major Cradock and numbering
242 officers and men and 300 horses, left Wellington on the 20th of
January—upwards of 70,000 spectators congregating to witness the departure
of the fine fellows, whose appearance was alike martial and workmanly.
These two Contingents, equipped and sent over at the cost of the New Zealand
Government—the funds being raised among the settlers themselves—were not
by any means New Zealand’s entire contribution. Two more Contingents
followed, and afterwards a fifth, consisting of 500 rough riders; some of the
smartest men that could be gathered together! Indeed the whole force was
remarkable for its smartness, and before it had been long in the Transvaal was
highly praised by General French for its fine horsemanship and coolness under
fire.

An interesting feature belonging to the New Zealanders, and one which
must have struck consternation in the heart of the Boers, was the Maori war-cry
of the troops. This was composed by Trooper Galloway, one of the[Pg 153]
Volunteer Contingent, and taught by him to his comrades. The war cry
in the Maori tongue is “Kia, Kaha, Niu Tireni. Whawhai maiea mo te
Kuini, to kaianga. Ake! ake! ake!” which interpreted means, “Be strong,
New Zealand. Fight bravely for your Queen, for your country. Ever! ever!
ever!” The interest of the Maoris in Great Britain was evinced in practical
form. They held carnival, danced native dances, and sang native songs,
devoting the proceeds to the Patriotic Fund. Their only regret was their
inability to be enrolled among the defenders of the country.

HON. W. P. SCHREINER, C.M.G.
Premier of the Cape Parliament, 1898-1900.
Photo by Elliott & Fry, London.

QUEENSLAND

The Queenslanders, under the command of Colonel Ricardo, have, as before
said, the honour of being the first of Great Britain’s children to come forward
to her assistance. Their deeds are now familiar to us, for they are associated
with Colonel Pilcher’s famous raid to Sunnyside and Douglas, and also with
the magnificent ride of General French for the relief of Kimberley. But before
July 1899 we were scarcely acquainted with our warlike brothers across the
ocean.

The prime mover in the patriotic scheme of assisting the Mother Country in
her need was the Hon. J. R. Dickson, the Premier. As we know, he lost not a
moment. He did not wait for the need of assistance to be recognised. In this
respect he followed the splendid example set in 1884 by the late Mr. Dalley,
who, while acting Premier for Sir A. Stuart, telegraphed independently the
wish of New South Wales to assist in the military undertakings of the Mother
Country. The Premier knew the spirit of loyalty and patriotism that pervaded
Queensland, and made haste to give it utterance. He was well supported by
all sections of the Government and of the people, and speedily his action was
imitated all over the world.

Queensland by degrees sent out two Contingents composed of mounted
infantry and one machine-gun section of Royal Australian Artillery; and
finally, a third Contingent, of which 75 per cent. were bushmen, all first-class
riders and splendid shots. They were men of grand physique, many of them
wealthy, and many sons of prominent citizens. The infantry were not
mounted when despatched, but all being good horsemen, and their services
being chiefly required as scouts or to assist cavalry, they had mounts provided
for them on arrival by the Imperial authorities. The Queensland Mounted
Infantry was organised in 1884 by Colonel Ricardo, who is styled the “father”
of mounted infantry in Queensland, and belongs to the Militia Division of the
Colonial Defence force. The force is organised on the basis of three years’
service, and ordinarily is recruited from the bushman and farmer class—a
sterling and hardy set of fellows, whose plain motto is “For God and the
right.” The uniform, a highly becoming one, is of kharki, with claret-coloured
facings. The hat is of the usual “brigand” shape, decorated at the side with
a smart tuft of emu plumes.

The whole of the expenses of transport, equipment, arms, and food for men
and horses during the voyage was defrayed by the Colony; pay on the field
was met by the Imperial Exchequer, the Colony only meeting the difference
between the Imperial and Colonial rates, the latter being higher.

The first Contingent consisted of 262 men and officers, who sailed in the
Cornwall on November 11, 1899, amid a wild display of patriotic enthusiasm.

Officers of the first Contingent—Staff—Major P. R. Ricardo, to rank as
Lieut.-Colonel; Sup. Captain R. S. Browne; Lieutenant C. H. A. Pelham;[Pg 154]
Machine-Gun Section—Lieutenant C. H. Black, Royal Australian Artillery.
A Company Queensland Mounted Infantry—Captain H. G. Chauvel; Lieutenant
A. G. Adie (wounded at Sunnyside under Colonel Pilcher); Lieutenant C. A.
Cumming; Lieutenant T. W. Glasgow; Lieutenant D. E. Reid. B Company
Queensland Mounted Infantry—Captain P. W. G. Pinnock; Lieutenant H.
Bailey; Lieutenant R. Dowse; Lieutenant R. Gordon. The second Contingent
was composed of 148 men and 8 officers, with 5 additional officers for special
service in South Africa. Officers of second Contingent—Lieut.-Colonel Kenneth
Hutchison, Headquarters Staff, commanding; Captain W. G. Thompson,
Queensland Mounted Infantry; Lieutenant H. J. Imrie Harris, Queensland
Mounted Infantry; Lieutenant A. F. Crichton, Queensland Mounted Infantry;
Lieutenant James Walker, 3rd Queensland (Kennedy) Regiment; Lieutenant
R. M. Stodart, Queensland Mounted Infantry. Supernumeraries—Captain
Sir Edward Stewart-Richardson, Bart., 3rd Battalion Black Watch; Lieutenant
John H. Fox. Additional officers attached—Surgeon-Captain H. R. Nolan,
A.M.C. Queensland Defence; Major D. W. Rankin; Captain F. W. Toll,
special service; Captain A. E. Crichton, Camp Quartermaster; Captain W. T.
Deacon, Camp Adjutant.

The second Contingent sailed in the Maori King on January 20. The
night before they were to start it was discovered that the ship had been set on
fire, but the flames were extinguished before much damage was done. There
seemed to be no doubt it was the work of an incendiary, and the police kept a
close watch over the vessel till she was fairly away. It was regarded as significant
that the crew consisted mainly of Dutchmen and Germans.

The third Contingent, which sailed in the Duke of Portland on March 1,
was 300 strong, with 350 horses. In addition to the above, about 20 men and
50 horses had been sent to Sydney, and sailed with the New South Wales Contingent
on February 26. After accommodating men and horses, it was found
that the Duke of Portland had still 500 tons of space available for cargo; this
the Queensland Government offered to fill with forage for horses and men, and
present to the Imperial Government.

SOUTH AND WEST AUSTRALIA

South Australia speedily sent two Contingents to the front, and offered more
should further help be required. The first Contingent was commanded by
Captain F. H. Howland. This officer was born in Kensington, London, 1863,
and served for three years in the Middlesex E.V. Royal Engineers. At the
expiration of that time he went to Australia, and in 1885 joined the volunteer
company which was being formed at Mount Gambier, in which he was appointed
lance-corporal. Since then he has passed through every rank, was
appointed captain in 1893, and made adjutant in June 1898. Captain Howland
then became senior captain in the second battalion, and—having passed his
examination for his majority—on the illness of his commanding officer, commanded
the battalion on several occasions.

The officers of the Contingent were as follows: Captain F. H. Howland,
D Company, Mount Gambier Infantry, C.O.; Captain G. R. Lascelles, Royal
Fusiliers, A.D.C. to Lord Tennyson (attached); Lieutenant J. H. Stapleton,
A Company, first battalion infantry; Lieutenant F. M. Blair, B Company, first
battalion infantry; Lieutenant J. W. Powell, D Company, Mount Gambier
Infantry; Major J. T. Toll, Medical Staff.

In regard to the payment of the troops the arrangement was simple. The
men received 5s. a day. That meant that the pay received through the South[Pg 155]
Australian Government and the pay from the Imperial Government would
together amount to 5s. a day. Whatever amount the Imperial Government
gave their soldiers, members of the South Australian Contingent received the
same while on active service, and the balance paid to them by the South
Australian Government would bring the amount up to 5s. a day. They did
not propose to send any money from the Colony while the men were away, in
order that, while fighting side by side with the Imperial soldiers, they should
not receive more pay than their comrades. Their South Australian pay would
be left at home until their return. If the British rate of pay were 1s. 4d., that
arrangement would mean that 3s. 8d. per day would be due to them from the
Colonial Government. Before starting the men received one month’s pay,
amounting to £7, which was considered sufficient to supply their immediate
wants, and see them over the voyage. On arrival at Port Elizabeth they began
to receive the same pay as the British soldiers.

The officers of the second Contingent were: Captain J. Reade, commanding;
J. F. Humphries, senior subaltern; G. H. Lynch, second subaltern;
F. M. Rowell, third subaltern; G. J. Restall Walter, junior subaltern; W. J.
Press, warrant officer, in charge of the “Colt” automatic machine-gun; William
De Passy, warrant officer.

The first Contingent of infantry was afterwards turned into mounted
infantry. The second Contingent was composed of cavalry, and one machine-gun
section. The Australian Horse was drilled on exactly the same lines as
British cavalry, and was, in fact, under the instruction of British cavalrymen.
The men were either members of volunteer corps, or volunteered on the outbreak
of the war from all parts of the Colony.

When the news of British reverses reached the Colony, the patriotic fervour
of which the despatch of the first Contingent was a practical proof, was once
more fanned into flame. The desire for Australian representation on the
field of battle again translated itself into action, and the intimation that not
only would further assistance be welcomed but that it was really wanted met
with ready response. No lack of volunteers troubled the authorities, for
numerous offers to serve were received from all parts of the colony, from
persons of all classes and all ages. Among the youngest of those volunteering
was Allan O’Halloran Wright, who was but fourteen years of age, who accompanied
the Contingent as trumpeter. He is exceptionally well developed, and
considerably taller than many of the rank and file. Among others was Sergeant
Hanley, who was in the thick of the fight at Majuba Hill. He served with the
92nd Gordon Highlanders in the Afghan War, and received two decorations,
including medal with the Kabul, Kandahar, and Charasia bars, and a star for
the historical march from Kabul to Kandahar. He, with others, was mentioned
in despatches for his conduct in defending Lord Roberts from an attack of the
Ghilzais. He fought in twenty-seven engagements in Afghanistan, and was
the youngest man in the regiment. He stood side by side with “Fighting
Mac,” who was then a lance-corporal, and promoted to a commission for his
distinguished services. After the Afghan War he went to India, and though
he had completed seven years service, and need have done no more, he
volunteered for service with the 92nd Highlanders in South Africa. After the
miserable experiences of Majuba he went to South Australia, where he served
for nine years with the permanent force. He acted as warder in the Yatala
prison till, hearing of the war, he instantly volunteered.

On the 28th of October the Contingent dined at Government House, and
after the meal the men were received in the great hall and thus eloquently[Pg 156]
addressed by Lord Tennyson: “Men of the South Australian Contingent
of the British army in South Africa—I am proud of being your Commander-in-Chief
because of your splendid patriotism, your alacrity in obeying
the summons of the old country, your self-sacrifice in leaving your
comfortable homes to fight for the United Empire, to maintain the Queen’s
position in South Africa, and to rescue the down-trodden Uitlanders from
the political and social serfdom imposed on them by the Boers. When I
was at home in 1897 I saw some of you in the Jubilee procession, and
you were vociferously cheered by the millions of people in the streets.
Why did they cheer you? Because they felt that you were our kith and
kin, and that you were not only taking part in a triumphal procession in
honour of the Queen, but that you were pledging yourselves that, if the needful
occasion should arise, you would fight for our Queen and for our Empire.
Your action now, and the action of all Australasia and of Canada, will make
the nations of the earth hesitate before they strike at our Empire in the future,
seeing our Imperial loyalty, our Imperial solidarity, our Imperial unity, our
Imperial strength. I believe from my experience as your Governor that there
is no man throughout South Australia who would not stand up in time of stress
in defence of the Queen, the Empire, and the Union Jack. You are a gallant
and stalwart body of men, and we rejoice in your soldierly appearance and
your loyal enthusiasm. We feel sure that you will do your duty nobly, and
return covered with honour and renown. Remember, my men, that obedience
to discipline, and patience in enduring hardship, and promptitude in the performance
of your military duties are the first steps towards the making of a
victorious army. You are to be joined in South Africa to highly organised
battalions of troops, some of the best in the world, commanded by highly
trained and scientific officers. Obey these officers and your own implicitly,
from the corporal to the Commander-in-Chief, whether on the field or in
garrison, or wherever you are; and I need not tell you that, if you keep your
eyes and ears open, you will learn a great deal that will be useful to you in the
future. May Australia never be visited by war! If this ever happens, the
British fleet will protect Australia in the first line of defence, but you must
have an efficiently trained army as a second line of defence. Knowing this,
the Federal Government of the future will, I am confident, put Australia in a
proper state of military preparedness; and that is one of the reasons why
I glory in our Federal Commonwealth to be. Remember always, my friends,
that you are the guardians of a magnificent heritage, of a country of which you
are justly proud, and that the experience which you Australians will gain in
South Africa will not only enable you to fight, if necessary, for this country,
but will also enable you to teach your comrades-in-arms, who are obliged to
stay at home, something of the needful requirements of modern warfare. I
know the General who is to lead you, Sir Redvers Buller. He is married to a
cousin of my wife’s, and I can tell you that a finer soldier could not be met with.
The motto he would wish to be given you would be: ‘Obedience and cheerful
courage on service are an army’s strength.’ I am glad to have allowed—though
it is personally a loss to myself—my A.D.C., Captain Lascelles, to accompany
you, with special leave from the War Office at home. As you are aware, in
him you have a thoroughly experienced and capable officer, and, like Captain
Howland and your other officers, he is fond of you and devoted to your welfare. If
I had to command a British army, I should know that, when you have had a little
more military experience, with your pluck, your good marksmanship, and your
loyalty, the standard of the Queen could well be intrusted to the keeping of the[Pg 157]
Australian Contingent. It is my duty as well as my pleasure to tell you that,
on behalf of the British people, Her Majesty’s Government have sent me two
telegrams appreciative of the enthusiastic patriotism of yourselves, of the
Ministry, and of South Australia. It is also my duty as well as my pleasure
to read you the kindly and gracious message from the Queen, which has moved
us all very deeply: ‘Her Majesty the Queen desires to thank the people of
her Colonies in Australia for the striking manifestation of loyalty and patriotism
in their voluntary offer to send troops to co-operate with Her Majesty’s Imperial
forces in maintaining her position and the rights of British subjects in South
Africa. She wishes the troops God-speed and a safe return.’ The Boers have
forced war upon us and have invaded our territory. You are going to fight
for the cause of British freedom, for the honour of Great Britain, for the
honour of Australia. In the name, then, of our beloved Queen, of Great
Britain, and of South Australia, I bid you farewell, and I wish you, after your
work is accomplished, a safe and happy home-coming.”

On the 26th of January the second South Australian Contingent started for
the Transvaal amid scenes of great enthusiasm. The Governor, Lord Tennyson,
again made an inspiriting speech and wished them God-speed.

WEST AUSTRALIA

West Australia sent with the same energy of patriotism two Contingents
amounting to 230 officers and men, with offers of more if required. The
officers were: Capt. R. Moor, R.A.; Capt. H. S. Pilkington, late 21st Hussars;
Major M’Williams, Medical Officer; Lieut. J. Campbell; Lieut. H. F. Darling;
Lieut. F. W. M. Parker.

TASMANIA

The Tasmanian Government were not behind the other Colonies of Australia
in their desire to show their loyalty and patriotism by offering troops for Imperial
service. There was, of course, some difference of opinion regarding the
policy of going to fight at all, as the following cutting from a local journal will
show: “In Tasmania, as elsewhere, there is a certain number, not many, of
the crawling tribe, who always find that their country is in the wrong, and are
never so happy as when they can hold up some foe as a model of virtue in
contrast with the brutal Briton. It is curious to find those who call themselves
friends of the working-classes indulging in this vein of oratory, but it is common
to all the Colonies, and may be said to account for the little influence that the
party has on general affairs. We have had here, of course, the inevitable
Catholic priest who has denounced the British, for he always appears when
Great Britain has any serious work to do, just as there is the usual meeting of
Irish in New York. In Hobart the Catholic priests spoke feeling and appropriate
words about the departure of the Contingent, but on the West Coast one
Father Murphy went on the rampage in the good old style, and proceeded to
denounce the country under the Government of which he lives, and which is
liberal enough to allow him to say such things with impunity. I wonder
whether these folk ever think about what would happen to them if they talked
in the same strain in France, Germany, or even in the United States. It does
not matter to Great Britain what these discontented ones say, but they might
learn from the liberty they use the value of the freedom which they enjoy.
On the whole, the people of Tasmania, while they deeply regret that war
should be necessary, are fully alive to the value of a united empire, and are
keenly anxious that she may vindicate her position in South Africa, and finally[Pg 158]
get rid of the Boer incubus which has weighed upon the country ever since the
Gladstone Ministry adopted the policy of scuttle and palaver.”

This quotation shows the drift of popular sentiment, and in the end loyalty
everywhere prevailed, and some splendid fellows volunteered to go to the front.
These were not “raw material,” but intelligent, handy soldiers, accustomed to
the rough and tumble of bush life, and ready to provide for emergencies. Their
commander, Captain Cameron, had seen some service, and took part in the
famous march to Kandahar.

The first Contingent, sent in the Medic, consisted of eighty men, of which
the officers were: Capt. C. St. Clair Cameron, Erandale, commanding (who was
afterwards a prisoner in Pretoria); Lieut. W. Brown; Lieut. F. B. Heritage;
Lieut. G. E. Reid, 1st Regt., Hobart. Of the privates the following were
subsequently taken prisoners to Pretoria: M. H. Swan, V. J. Peers, A. Button.
J. H. Whitelaw, also a private, who has distinguished himself by gallantry in
the field and by saving a comrade’s life at the imminent risk of his own, will
probably receive the V.C.

The second Contingent, which consisted of forty-five men, was under the
command of Sergt. J. Stagg, of Deloraine.

Both Contingents were composed almost entirely of gentlemen.

Tasmania also contributed 100 men to the Imperial Australian Corps
which was raised at Mr. J. Chamberlain’s suggestion from all the Australasian
Colonies. The volunteering of the Tasmanian contingent to join hands with
Canada, Australia, and New Zealand, and shoulder to shoulder to support the
“flag of old renown” in South Africa, gave origin to the following lines written
by a Tasmanian poet:—

“War? We would rather peace; but, Mother, if fight we must,

There be none of your sons on whom you can lean with a surer trust;

Bone of your bone are we, and in death would be dust of your dust!”

THE BUSHMEN’S CORPS

There was immense excitement over the formation of the Imperial Bushmen
or Roughriders’ Corps. It consisted of over 2000 mounted men, selected from
those experienced in riding and looking after stock in country in its natural
rough state, unbroken by cultivation, fences or roads. In the first instance,
New Zealand made an offer to provide 500 such men, after which—as more
were required—Australia was asked to raise a further 2000, the Imperial Government
bearing the cost of forwarding them to the seat of war, and maintaining
and paying them there. Four thousand applications from Victoria and 2000
from Adelaide were received. The citizens of Rockhampton immediately
offered to provide and equip twenty-five Bushmen. New South Wales was
represented by a Contingent of 500 men, and Queensland decided to join with
the other Colonies in organising this smart and serviceable corps, whose value
was estimated as equal to twice the number of infantry.

The movement was a most popular one, and gifts of horses were sent in
from every direction. The public subscribed liberally, Captain Bridges alone
giving £1000 towards the expenses of the Victorian Bushmen.

The officers selected for the New South Wales Bushmen were Lieut.-Colonel
Airey in command, Major Onslow, three captains and fourteen subalterns.
The movement was so popular and subscriptions so liberal, that it was decided
that 100 men should be sent from South Australia instead of the fifty originally
proposed. Colonel Williams, of the New South Wales Contingent, was[Pg 159]
appointed principal medical officer for all the Australian Contingents serving
in South Africa. The departure of the Bushmen on the 17th of January was a
magnificent climax to the many magnificent demonstrations of patriotism which
had been evidenced throughout the Colonies.

INDIA’S CONTINGENTS

Between the Australasian and Canadian Colonies and the Volunteer
Contingent from India there is a certain difference which it is necessary to
recognise. In the Colonies, the movement to help the Mother Country in her
need, though prompted and encouraged by popular enthusiasm, patriotism,
and donations from private and public resources, was suggested, voiced, and
supported by the respective Governments, the Premiers of which acted very
prominently in the enterprise, whereas in India, the offer of military assistance
was a spontaneous impulse springing from individual patriotism and carried
out by private enterprise. India, being a Crown Colony, could display her
loyalty in no other way. Her position was somewhat similar to the Home
Establishment, and her regular British troops were under orders for South
Africa in exactly the same way as were the Home forces. Nevertheless, India
was not backward in independent demonstrations of loyalty. English officers
from various native corps, who, in ordinary circumstances, could serve only
in their respective Indian Contingents, now came forward and volunteered
for active service in aid of the Imperial cause in South Africa. The “men”
volunteered from all directions. Dapper young Calcutta merchants, sporting
tea-planters from Assam, gallant indigo-planters, and dashing roughriders from
Bombay, Assam, Bengal, Cawnpore, Mysore, and all manner of districts unknown
even by name to the Little Englander sent in their appeal, and pressed to be
allowed to play their part in the defence of the Empire; and thus the smart
regiments known as Lumsden’s Horse, the Railway Contingent, and the
Ceylon Mounted Contingent came to be recruited.

Colonel Lumsden, lately Commandant of the Assam Valley Light Horse,
generously assisted both financially and personally in raising and equipping the
force, and quantities of Calcutta men offered their services, their expenses
being guaranteed by the firms employing them. Gifts and subscriptions
poured in. Lord Curzon, the Viceroy, headed the subscription-list by a handsome
contribution, and so generous was the response of all India, that about
£30,000 was collected in connection with the Transvaal war, including the
equipment of volunteers.

The native princes offered troops and horses, and loyally expressed themselves
towards the Queen Empress. The troops were declined, it being
understood that the war was between white men alone. Their offers of
horses were, however, accepted. Nevertheless, the generosity of the princes
was not to be denied, and several among them, the Maharajah of Bikanir, the
Maharajah of Durbhanga, and the Nawab of Moorshedabad, subscribed liberally
to the expenses of Lumsden’s Horse, offering at the same time their best
wishes for the success of the Contingent and the complete triumph of the
British arms in South Africa.

The Nizam of Hyderabad, whose State is as large as France, and whose
relations with the sovereign have always been most cordial, assisted handsomely,
saying at the same time, with true Oriental grace, that his troops, his purse,
and his own sword were at the service of the Queen. The Maharajah of
Tanjore contributed 5000 rupees, while his son furnished a complete set of[Pg 160]
X-ray apparatus. The Nawab of Bhavnagar State presented fifty fully
equipped Arab horses to the force, and quantities of other prominent Nawabs
displayed corresponding liberality. The Maharanee of Bettiah generously
presented to each volunteer from her district a horse, and Khwajah Mahomed
Khan forwarded from Mardan (on the Punjab frontier) the sum of 2000
rupees as an expression of loyalty, with his best wishes for the success of
Lumsden’s Horse. As an instance of the excitement and martial feeling in
regard to the Indian Transvaal Contingent, it may be noted that the
instant the scheme was proposed, two-thirds of the Light Horse of Behar
volunteered for service, promising to provide everything except means of
transport. They formed part of Lumsden’s Horse, who were all men under
forty years of age, many of them of independent means, with horses of
their own.

The following is the list of officers who were appointed to Colonel
Lumsden’s Corps:—

Lieut.-Colonel Dugald McT. Lumsden, Assam Valley Light Horse Volunteers,
to be Commandant, with the temporary rank of Lieut.-Colonel in the
army; Lieut.-Colonel Eden Showers, late Commandant Surma Valley Light
Horse Volunteers, to be second in command, with the temporary rank of
Major in the army; Captain J. H. B. Beresford, Indian Staff Corps, to be
Company Commander. To be Captains, with the temporary rank of Captain
in the army: Major Henry Chamney, Surma Valley Light Horse Volunteers;
Captain Francis Clifford, Coorg and Mysore Volunteer Rifles; Second Lieutenant
Bernard W. Holmes, East India Railway Volunteer Rifles; Second
Lieutenant John B. Rutherford, Behar Light Horse Volunteers. To be
Lieutenants, with the temporary rank of Lieutenant in the army: Lieutenant
Charles L. Sidey, Surma Valley Light Horse Volunteers; Herbert O. Pugh,
gent.; George A. Nevill, gent.; Charles E. Crane, gent. Captain Louis
H. Noblett, the Royal Irish Rifles, to be a Company Commander; Captain
Neville C. Taylor, Indian Staff Corps, to be Adjutant; Surgeon-Captain
Samuel A Powell, M.D., Surma Valley Light Horse Volunteers, to be Medical
Officer, with the temporary rank of Captain; William Stevenson, gent., to
be Veterinary Officer, with the temporary rank of Veterinary Lieutenant.

The Government provided free passages, and the railway authorities gave
free passes. With the force went Mrs. C. W. Park and Mrs. M. C. Curry,
wives of Lieut.-Colonel C. W. Park and Major M. C. Curry, of the 1st Devonshire
Regiment, to assist in the hospitals in Natal. This regiment, it may be
remembered, was with Sir George White, and had four officers severely
wounded in its first battle, Elandslaagte, and was shut up in Ladysmith for
over four months. Lumsden’s Horse sailed from India on February 6, much
envied by all who had not the good fortune to be of their number.

GENERAL BRABANT, C.M.G.
After Photo by S. B. Barnard, Cape Town.

Ceylon was not behind India in patriotic enthusiasm, though its powers
were more limited. Great demonstrations of loyalty prevailed everywhere in
the island, and volunteers were eager to be enrolled. Out of the numbers
applying 125 men were picked out and 5 officers. The force was armed with
Lee-Metford magazine rifles, 500 rounds of ammunition, and were nearly all
mounted on trained horses. Captain Rutherford, Royal Dublin Fusiliers, was
in command, and Captain Anderson, Royal Artillery, was second in command.
Captain Toogood (Warwickshire Regiment) also accompanied the force.

The planters and merchants of Ceylon presented upwards of 30,000 lbs. of
tea to be delivered free to the troops in South Africa, to be shipped with the
Contingent, and many private individuals were equally generous. The[Pg 161]
Legislative Council unanimously agreed that all expenses connected with the
equipment, arming, transport, and, when necessary, mounting of the Ceylon
Contingent, should be borne by the Colony. This liberal decision was acknowledged
by Mr. Chamberlain in the following terms:—

Mr. Chamberlain to Governor the Right Hon. Sir J. West Ridgeway.

“Your telegrams of January 9 and January 10. Her Majesty’s Government
congratulate Ceylon on completion of Contingent, which they accept with
much pleasure, and highly appreciate patriotic and generous action of Legislative
Council.”

The Ceylon Mounted Contingent sailed on February 2 for active service in
South Africa, amid the prayers and good wishes of a huge concourse of people.

In addition to the above contingents from India and Ceylon, the Indian
Government sent the guns and equipment for three field-batteries of 15-pounders,
and also three corps of native transport drivers and muleteers—about
400 in all—under British officers.

THE SOUTH AFRICAN VOLUNTEERS[6]

CAPE COLONY

It has been said that the whole course of the campaign might have been
changed had the Cape Colony forces been utilised sufficiently early. If the
Cape Ministry had begun at once by employing the splendid Colonial forces at
its disposal, not for purposes of defiance, but of defence, the tale of raid and
rebellion, which has been as harassing as the tale of war, would never have
been told. But as it is useless to talk of the might have been, or of things done
or left undone by the Cape Ministry, we must proceed to consider the services
of the Cape Colonial Force, of the ten thousand volunteers, when they were
eventually allowed to come into action. Of the splendid troops in Mafeking
and Kimberley the Colony must ever be proud, for on them fell the weight of
showing what worthy offshoots of the bold and the brave the sun of South
Africa has reared. These men, recruited for the most part from Cape Town,
Port Elizabeth, East London, Queenstown, Grahamstown, and Kimberley, consisted
largely of past and present Cape Colony Volunteers. They were bone
of our bone, and when the hour of stress arrived they proved themselves as
such. They were immensely proud to be included in the term British, and
right royally they acted up to the higher interpretation of that term. Though
they have borne years of insult and suffered in innumerable ways for their
fealty and devotion to the Mother Country, they rushed to arms joyfully in the
hope that Great Britain would reassert herself, annex the whole of South
Africa, and administer it under one Government. They longed to be quit of
Dutch intrigue. They pined for a strong rule, one that would be free of the
vacillations that had kept them on tenter-hooks for years, and prevented their
living in a sense of security enjoyed by other freeborn British subjects. By
these loyal fellows the towns of Mafeking and Kimberley were practically defended.
In those places there were very few Imperial troops, and little could
have been accomplished without the aptness and grit of the Colonials. The
reason why they appeared to be neglected is not far to seek. No man is a[Pg 162]
prophet in his own country, and to this trite fact may be attributed the want
of instant appreciation accorded to the Cape Colonial Volunteers who so
spontaneously and with genuine zeal responded to the call of duty. While we
made much of the Colonials from over the seas—the “Visiting Colonials” as
they are called—we failed to see that at our elbows were the very men who
would leap forward at a word and check the onward career of the enemy and
put a stop to his annexations while our troops in England were getting into
shape. But later we jumped at them. Then the Cape Colonists began to be
vastly appreciated, and to receive the highest encomiums from all who had the
good fortune to serve with them.

The following is a table of some of the prominent Colonial forces of Cape
Colony, 1900:—

CORPS		Establishment		Effective to Date			Remarks			OFFICERS
		All Ranks	Horses	Officers	N.C.O.’s and Men	Horses
Irregulars raised before War
Rhodesian Regiment		…		…	…	…			These numbers have been increased within the last few months by recruiting, Kitchener’s Horse showing an increase of about 50. The figures, therefore, are only approximately correct	…
Protectorate Regiment	}	650	…	…		…				{	Col. Baden-Powell, 5th Dragoon Guards
Kimberley Regiment
Diamond Fields Horse		100	…	…	…					…
Bechuanaland Rifles		100	…	…	…	…				…
Irregulars raised since War
Rimington’s Guides		212	220	…	…	…				{	Lieut.-Col. Hon. J. Byng, 10th Hussars Capt. Villiers, Royal Horse Guards
1st S.A.L. Horse		599	580	…	…	…
Roberts’s Horse		599	580	…	…	…
Kitchener’s Horse		599	580	41	617	586				…
1st Brabant’s Light Horse		599	580	…	…	…				…
2nd Brabant’s Light Horse		599	580	…	…	…				…
Gatacre’s Scouts		50	50	…	…	…				…
Montmorency’s Cavalry Division Scouts		100	100	…	…	…				…
6th Cavalry Division Scouts		25	25	…	…	…				…
Chief in Command’s Body Guard		50	50	…	…	…				…
Local Defence Corps
Nesbitt’s Mounted Local Defence Corps		400	400	…	…	…				…
Bayley’s Mounted Local Defence Corps		500	500	…	…	…				…
Orpen’s Horse		300	300	…	…	…				…
Railway Pioneer Regiment		1008	8	34	959	15	…			…
Volunteers
P.A.O. Cape Artillery		…	…	…	…	…	…			…
Diamond Fields Artillery		…	…	…	…	…	…			…
Cape Garrison Artillery		…	…	…	…	…	…			…

Strength of Volunteer Corps on Active Service

Prince Alfred’s Own Cape Artillery—officers, 5; other ranks, 117; total,
122. Diamond Fields Artillery—officers, 4; other ranks, 119; total, 123.
Cape Garrison Artillery—officers, 18; other ranks, 431; total, 449. Duke of
Edinburgh’s Own Volunteer Rifles—officers, 31; other ranks, 1027; total,
1058. Cape Town Highlanders—officers, 12; other ranks, 392; total, 404.
Prince Alfred’s Volunteer Guard—officers, 21; other ranks, 494; total, 515.[Pg 163]
First City Volunteers—officers, 22; other ranks, 556; total, 578. Kaffrarian
Rifles (Colonel Cuming)—officers, 31; other ranks, 672; total, 703. Queenstown
Rifle Volunteers—officers, 18; other ranks, 299; total, 317. Frontier
Mounted Rifles—officers, 10; other ranks, 131; total, 141. Uitenhage Volunteer
Rifles—officers, 16; other ranks, 396; total, 412. Komgha Mounted
Rifles—officers, 5; other ranks, 41; total, 46. Stellenbosch Mounted Infantry—officers,
1; other ranks, 31; total, 32. Kimberley Regiment—officers,
25; other ranks, 541; total, 566. Bechuanaland Rifles—officers, 5; other
ranks, 61; total, 66. A Company Cape Medical Staff Corps—officers, 2; other
ranks, 55; total, 57. B Company Cape Medical Staff Corps—officers, 3; other
ranks, 71; total, 74. C Company Cape Medical Staff Corps—officers, 0; other
ranks, 13; total, 13. Transkei Mounted Rifles—officers, 5; other ranks, 66;
total, 71. No. 1 Xalanga Border Mounted Rifle Club—officers, 4; other ranks,
40; total, 44. No. 19 Tembuland Mounted Rifle Club—officers, 2; other
ranks, 21; total, 23. No. 23 Nqamakwe Mounted Rifle Club—officers, 1;
other ranks, 21; total, 22. No. 25 Engcobo Mounted Rifle Club—officers, 1;
other ranks, 28; total, 29. No. 29 Tsomo Mounted Rifle Club—officers, 1;
other ranks, 29; total, 30.

South African Scout. Full Equipment.

To prove his appreciation of the devotion and military prowess of the Cape
colonists Lord Roberts, on his arrival in South Africa, decided on raising a
Colonial Division. The official intimation of the formation of this division was
contained in the following announcement:—

“The Commander-in-Chief, recognising the value of the services rendered
by the Colonial troops, has authorised the formation of a division. Colonel
Brabant, M.L.A., C.M.G., has been given the local and temporary rank of a
Brigadier-General, and will be in command. Brabant’s Horse, with several
other irregular corps and mounted contingents, limited in number, from the
infantry volunteer regiments, will form the first portion of this force, and its[Pg 164]
first object will be to drive the enemy out of the Colony, and to co-operate
with the Imperial troops. It has been decided to raise a further 1500 mounted
irregulars, so as to give all Colonials and men with Colonial experience a
chance of joining this division. Men who enrol in this Mounted Irregular
Corps, and who cannot afford to go on a long campaign, will be allowed to
register their names for service in the Colony only, but any portion of such
registered men can volunteer to take part in any further advance that may be
ordered beyond the Orange River. To raise this latter force recruiting stations
will be open in all parts of the Colony, and it is proposed to elect officers from
Colonial gentlemen or those with Colonial experience.”

As may be imagined, there was great jubilation among the thousands of
martial spirits at the Cape, who for long had been fretting at enforced inactivity.

Some very interesting particulars regarding raising of some of the Colonial
Corps were elicited from Mr. W. Hosken, who was chairman of the Uitlander
Council and the Chamber of Commerce at Johannesburg. He said: “I
was chairman of the committee which obtained permission from the Government
to raise Thorneycroft’s and Bethune’s Corps of mounted infantry and the
Imperial Light Horse, and all raised in Natal and mainly from refugee
Uitlanders from Johannesburg. From the Imperial officers with whom I was
brought into contact I received every consideration and the greatest cordiality.
But again it should be remembered that we got the permission only after pressure
had been brought to bear by public meetings at Durban and Maritzburg, and in
other ways. The response was most gratifying. Only when the Boers
were threatening to advance on Maritzburg were we allowed to form the
Imperial Light Horse. Intimation of the permission was given on the Friday.
By the following Wednesday we were able to report that 1300 men had
offered for service, and that the medical examination would be at once begun.
Thorneycroft’s Corps was the first to take the field, and was actually fighting
within six weeks from the date of its enrolment. The testimony from Boer
sources as to the value of these regiments has been most gratifying. In one
verbal statement by a Boer commandant they were described as ‘evidently
skilled sharpshooters.’ Then there are the Natal Volunteers, recruited in very
much the same way as your Volunteers at home, clerks and artisans from the
towns, with the mounted companies from the country districts. They took the
field possibly with some misgivings as to their capacity, just as the Volunteers
here might do; but they have proved themselves equal to any military duty
that is imposed on them. The soldiers of the regular army recognise them as
worthy comrades, and the greatest cordiality exists between the regular and
volunteer forces. Later on there was formed also in Natal a body of Colonial
scouts—750 strong—recruited from local men who knew the country. Those
who wished to serve together were placed in the same squad. Every section
of twenty-five men elects its own leader, and every four sections its commander.
They have already proved their efficiency in service with Sir Redvers Buller’s
army. Then there is the corps of ambulance bearers. When General Buller
was making arrangements for the attack on Colenso last month he asked for
1200 white bearers. On the first day the notice was posted in Durban 900
men volunteered. Far more than the required number offered, and a selection
was made of those who were considered the most fitted for the duty. These
men did excellent work, bringing out the wounded under fire during that
disastrous day at Colenso. Three were killed and several wounded, and every
one of the corps behaved splendidly.”

In regard to the apparent neglect of the Volunteers at the Cape, he went on[Pg 165]
to say: “The delay in recruiting irregulars at the Cape was not in the least
due to the unwillingness of the Uitlanders there or of the British residents. It
was the result of political considerations which were then thought to be of
sufficient weight by well-advised men on the spot. The delay caused a great
deal of heart-burning among hundreds who were only too keen to take up
arms; and it is only quite recently that permission has been given to form
irregular corps and to accept the services of the Cape Volunteers already in
existence, who were eager to serve. Directly the permission was given men
flocked to the standard, and you have now Rimington’s Guides, the South
African Light Horse, and the Cape Volunteers, who have all promptly proceeded
to the front. Another most useful body is now being recruited both in
Natal and in Cape Colony—I mean the Railway Pioneer Corps. It is being
officered by the most eminent of the mining engineers of Johannesburg, and
the rank and file are made up of skilled mechanics, who are specially qualified
for the particular duties they will have to perform. They will be armed in the
ordinary way, drilled as an engineer corps, and will be expected to do the
ordinary work of the military engineer.”

The Imperial Light Horse, formed by Majors Sampson and Karri Davies, was
largely composed of Australians. Many Johannesburg people joined it, most
of them “all-round sportsmen, capital shots, and keen riders.” They joined
on the principle of not allowing the Mother Country to fight their battles for
them while they had a right arm with which to assert themselves.

The Cape Mounted Police, 1000 strong, who were also sent on active
service at the commencement of the war, were invaluable. They were remarkable,
not alone for gallantry, but efficiency. When Captain de Montmorency’s
Scouts were cut off near Labuschagnes Nek by some 800 Boers, Captain
Golsworthy on the last day of the year came to the rescue with a party of the
Cape Mounted Police, and put the enemy to flight.

Early in 1900, the Rhodesian Field Force, under the command of Lieut.-General
Sir Frederick Carrington, was organised to operate in Northern
Rhodesia, and stop any trekking of members of the Free State or Transvaal
or rebels of Cape Colony into Rhodesian territory.

The officers were:—Major C. D. Learoyd, Royal Engineers; Major A. V.
Jenner, D.S.O., Rifle Brigade; Major C. L. Josling, Royal Army Medical
Corps; Major G. A. R. Carew, 7th Hussars; Captain E. Peach, Indian Staff
Corps; Captain R. G. Partridge, Army Ordnance Department; Captain W. E.
Lawrence, South Wales Borderers; Second Lieutenant C. S. Rome, 11th
Hussars; Second Lieutenant C. H. Dillon, Rifle Brigade; Paymaster G. J. C.
Whittington, Hon. Colonel; Lieutenant Pemberton; Major P. Dalton, late
3rd V.B. Royal Fusiliers; Major C. D. Guise, 3rd Gloucester Regiment;
Brevet-Major P. Moir Byres, 1st Dragoon Guards; Captain C. W. Kennard,
3rd Gordon Highlanders; Second Lieutenant W. H. Longden, 4th East
Surrey Regiment; Chaplain Rev. F. P. Moreton, M.A.; Lieutenant R. Laing,
surgeon; Lieutenant E. A. Parsons, surgeon; Lieutenant H. Cardin, surgeon;
Lieutenant F. F. Bond, surgeon; Lieutenant G. H. Collard, surgeon; Lieutenant
F. R. Pullin, surgeon; Lieutenant H. D. Buss, surgeon; Colonel H. C.
Wood, late 10th Hussars; Lieut.-Colonel J. Leslie, 5th Royal Irish Fusiliers;
Lieutenant-Colonel B. G. Booth, late Scots Guards; Major J. W. Traill, late
4th Cheshire; Captain R. Gray, C.M.G., late 6th Dragoons; Captain E. C. P.
Curzon, late 18th Hussars; Captain F. C. P. Curzon, Royal Irish Rifles;
Captain H. F. F. Fisher, Army Service Corps; Veterinary-Captain H. T. W.[Pg 166]
Mann; Lieutenant J. K. Rashleigh, late Artillery Militia; Lieutenant F. J.
Lawrence, late English Militia; Lieutenant C. A. Burgoyne, 3rd Dragoon
Guards; Lieutenant A. Wormald, surgeon; Major E. J. Tickell, D.S.O.,
14th Hussars; Captain J. Ponsonby, Coldstream Guards; Captain Pereira,
Coldstream Guards; Captain H. J. Haddock, Royal Welsh Fusiliers; Captain
R. K. Arbuthnot, Royal Irish Regiment; Lieutenant W. D. P. Watson, late
Scots Greys; Major G. Wright, R.G.A.; Major A. Paris, R.M.A.; Captain and
Hon. Major G. E. Giles, late R.A. In all, forty-four officers.

NATAL

The following is a list of the names and numbers of the local forces which
the colony of Natal has put into the field: Natal Naval Volunteers, 150;
Natal Carabineers (Colonel Royston, since dead), 465; Natal Mounted Rifles,
200; Border Mounted Rifles, 270; Umvoti Mounted Rifles (Major Leuchars),
130; Natal Field Artillery, 120; Natal Royal Rifles, 145; Durban Light
Infantry, 400; Medical Staff, 7; Veterinary, 3; Staff, 19; Natal Mounted
Police (Europeans) at Ladysmith and other portions of the Colony (Colonel
Dartnell), 649; Thorneycroft’s Mounted Infantry (Colonel Thorneycroft, Royal
Scots Fusiliers, D.A.A.G.), 500; Bethune’s Mounted Infantry (Lieut.-Colonel
Bethune, 16th Lancers, Colonel Addison second in command), 500; Imperial
Light Infantry (Colonel Nash), 1000; Imperial Light Horse (Colonel Scott
Chisholm, killed 21st November 1899), 500; Colonial Scouts (Colonel Edwards,
Captain Sydney Osborne), 500; Ambulance Bearers (1st section), 1000;
Ambulance Bearers (2nd section), 600. Total, 7158.

The South African Light Horse is mentioned among the Cape Colonial
troops, though it has done notable work in Natal. The second and third regiments
of the corps became respectively Roberts’s and Kitchener’s Horse. In
the district of Kaffraria half the available men were embodied, men belonging
to the Duke of Edinburgh’s Own Volunteer Rifles—one of the corps of
“regulars” belonging to Cape Colony.

The South African Light Horse was started on the 12th of November. By
order of Sir Redvers Buller a recruiting office was opened in Cape Town,
whereupon the place was instantly invaded. Patriotic fervour ran high, and
every one desired to take a share in showing forth the might of Great Britain.
The officers, Major Byng (10th Hussars, with temporary rank of colonel)
and Captain Villiers (R.H.G., with temporary rank of major), set themselves
manfully to hurry the work of organisation. In no time men were picked—fine
riders and fine shots—mounted and equipped. Saddlery, tents, harness,
ammunition—all were gathered together with startling celerity. Among the
troopers were British-born subjects, Uitlanders, Colonials, Americans, farmers,
seamen, &c. The officers hailed from many regiments—the 10th Hussars,
Royal Horse Guards, Life Guards, 11th Hussars, 20th Hussars, Gordon
Highlanders, Yeomanry, Militia—all manner of men of distinction and wealth
and breeding uniting together in a common brotherhood for a common cause.

The following is a list of the officers: Colonel Byng, 10th Hussars,
commanding; Major Villiers, Royal Horse Guards, second in command; Captain
Fraser, 1st Life Guards, adjutant; Captain French, late L.G., Maxims;
Captain Harden, Transport; Captain Murray; Captain Anderson; Captain
Hull, paymaster; Vet.-Captain Walker; Vet.-Lieutenant Steele; Chaplain
Rev. G. Eales. Squadron Leaders—Captain Balfour, late 11th Hussars;
Major (Bimbash) Stewart, Gordon Highlanders; Captain Kirkwood; Captain
Gatacre; Captain Renton; Captain Whittaker; Captain Child; Captain Allgood.[Pg 167]
Lieutenants Milne, Tucker, Brown, Jobling, De Rougemont, Tarbutt, Davis,
Bathurst, Shepherd; Second Lieutenants Warren, Carlton Smith, Hamilton,
Cock, Leith, Welstead, Robinson, Oates, Johnson, Vignelles, Vaughan, Carlisle,
Marsden, Overbeck, Newman, Penrose, Kuhlman, Horne, Cloete, Walker-Leigh,
Hon. de Saumarez, Thorold, Kitson, Vaghan.

Three squadrons under Captain Byng proceeded to the front to Natal, where
they immediately distinguished themselves, while the remainder of the regiment
went to the western border, and there took a full share of incessant
work.

The Natal Mounted Police under Colonel Dartnell, “a genius, planner, and
guide,” did wonderful deeds in relation to the defence of Ladysmith and during
the trying actions which preceded it. The gallant colonel, who has been
described in action as being “as good as a brigade,” placed his own horse at
the disposal of General Symons, who was wounded, and saw him safely off the
field at Glencoe.

The Natal Carabineers served splendidly both within and without Ladysmith,
some of the force, under Lord Dundonald, being the first to relieve the
town. Their fighting qualities are well known, and it is unnecessary to do
more than quote the words of General Hunter, who said, “I never wish to
serve with better men.”

First-rate work has been done by the Frontier Mounted Rifles, a well-trained
and excellently-equipped body of men, all in the prime of life, and
drawn from the eastern border towns of the Cape Colony. They held a
position of continual danger, being encamped nearest the enemy. Being born
and bred among the kopjes which afforded the Boers such cosy hiding-places,
they were acquainted with every nook and corner, and could find their way
about them both in daylight and dark. This force, with the Cape Police,
helped to keep General Gatacre informed regarding the seething mass of disloyalty
that surrounded him. It was difficult to choose between the honest
hostility of the Free Staters and the crafty antagonism of the rebel Dutchmen,
who had joined the enemy almost to a man. These were known to be in
active collusion with the foe, assisting them by spying, blowing up culverts,
wrecking railway lines, and generally assisting in the development of the plots
to sweep British rule from the soil of Africa. Loyal British subjects had much
to suffer at the hands of these people, who spent their time carrying off and
destroying furniture and valuables, smashing windows and doors, and damaging
all property other than their own that they could lay hands on, and with
these duplicit ruffians the British troops unaided by Colonials could never
have been even. Besides the valuable services of the Frontier Mounted Rifles
and the Cape Police, General Gatacre had under him four other regiments of
Cape Colonials, who were all trying to outrival each other in nobility, pluck,
and usefulness. Of many other regiments pages might be written, but space
does not permit. In regard to the Imperial Light Horse, one sentence expressed
by Sir George White speaks volumes. He said it was composed of
the finest fighting material that he had ever had under his command.

THE IMPERIAL YEOMANRY

Early in the days of war Lord Lonsdale offered to take out to South Africa
200 men of the Westmoreland and Cumberland Yeomanry, of which he is
colonel, and to fully equip and clothe them. Lord Harris and his regiment,
the East Kent Mounted Rifles, also were among the first to volunteer for the
front, and before that the Middlesex Yeomanry (the Duke of Cambridge’s[Pg 168]
Hussars) made a hurried application to go to the Transvaal, which impetuosity
of loyalty was met by the War Office with courteous refusal. At that time the
need for light cavalry in South Africa seemed scarcely to have dawned on the
authorities. It was true that October mists and November fogs had enveloped
London, and that no one between Downing Street and the Mansion House
could see an inch before his nose, and it was equally true that by the time
these mists had cleared away there was only one question, namely, “How
many men could be sent abroad out of the 10,000 who constituted the
Yeomanry Cavalry?”

Then, in December, the following announcement, with regulations to be
observed in the organisation of a Contingent of Yeomanry and Volunteers, was
published:—

Yeomanry.—1. Her Majesty’s Government have decided to raise for
service in South Africa a mounted infantry force, to be named “The Imperial
Yeomanry.” 2. The force will be recruited from the Yeomanry, but Volunteers
and civilians who may possess the requisite qualifications (as given
below) will be specially enrolled in the Yeomanry for this purpose. 3. The
force will be organised in companies of 115 rank and file, five officers being
allotted to each company, viz., one captain and four subalterns, preference
being given to Yeomanry officers. 4. The term of enlistment for officers
and men will be for one year, or for not less than the period of the war.
5. The officers and men will bring their own horses, clothing, saddlery,
and accoutrements. Arms and ammunition, camp equipment, and regimental
transport will be provided by Government. 6. The men will be dressed in
Norfolk jackets, of woollen material of neutral colour, breeches and gaiters,
lace boots, and felt hats. Strict uniformity of pattern will not be insisted upon.
7. The pay will be at cavalry rates, with a capitation grant for horses,
clothing, saddles, and accoutrements. All ranks will receive rations from date
of joining. Gratuities and allowances will be those laid down in special army
order of May 10, 1899. 8. Applications for enrolment should be addressed
to colonels commanding Yeomanry regiments, or to General Officers commanding
districts, to whom instructions will be immediately issued.

Qualifications.—(a) Candidates must be from twenty to thirty-five years of
age and of good character. (b) Volunteers or civilian candidates must satisfy
the colonel of the regiment through which they enlist that they are good riders
and marksmen, according to Yeomanry standard. (c) The standard of physique
to be that for cavalry of the line.

Volunteers.—Her Majesty’s Government have decided to accept offers
of service in South Africa from the Volunteers. A carefully selected company
of 110 rank and file, officered by one captain and three subalterns, will
be raised (one for each British line battalion serving in, or about to proceed
to, South Africa) from the Volunteer battalions of the territorial regiment.
These Volunteer companies will, as a general rule, take the place in the line
battalion of its company, serving as mounted infantry. The Volunteer
battalions from which a company is accepted will form and maintain a waiting
company in reserve at home. The selection of men from the Volunteer
battalions for service with the line battalion in the field, will devolve on the
commanding officers of Volunteer battalions. The terms of enlistment for
officers and men will be for one year, or for not less than the period of the
war. Full instructions for the information of all concerned will be issued
with the least possible delay through General Officers commanding districts.

LONDON’S RESPONSE—THE CITY IMPERIAL VOLUNTEERS CROSSING WESTMINSTER BRIDGE.
Drawing by Allan Stewart.

A committee was formed to assist in organising the Yeomanry force, among[Pg 169]
which were the following notable persons: Colonel Lord Chesham, Colonel A.
G. Lucas, Colonel Viscount Valentia, Colonel the Right Hon. W. H. Long,
M. P. Colonel the Earl of Lonsdale consented to assist the committee in the
obtaining of horses. The following Acting Staff Officers were nominated to
assist Colonel Lord Chesham: Captain the Hon. W. Bagot (late Scots
Guards), Captain L. Sandwith (8th Hussars), Adjutant of the 2nd Yeomanry
Brigade.

In a short, an almost incredibly short, space of time numerous battalions
were in readiness, and a strong contingent from Ireland was raised, composed
mainly of hunting men. The Under-Secretary for War wrote to correct the
impression which prevailed in some quarters that the raising of funds by
private subscriptions for the Volunteers and Imperial Yeomanry going to South
Africa was promoted by Government in order to do work which ought to be
done with Government money. He pointed out that the Government was
bearing the whole cost of those forces, providing them directly with their pay,
food, and arms, and, through their regiments, with clothing and equipments.
But the Government allowance for these things was calculated on the regular
army scale, and the public subscription would be serviceable in the way of
making better provision in those directions for the local Volunteers and Yeomanry,
of locally overcoming certain difficulties of organisation, and of decentralising
a great deal of contracting for horses, saddles, clothing, &c. Why,
they argued, should the man who volunteers his service in the field bear also
all the cost of making himself efficient, and all the cost entailed by his absence
from his trade or profession? Surely those who could not volunteer for the
front will be glad to assist him, or his corps in this case, as they have assisted
him or his corps in time of peace for forty years? Quantities of men of independent
means throughout the country, a great many of whom were acquainted
with each other, were ready and anxious to form a corps of the Imperial
Yeomanry, messing and fighting together, and enduring the hardships and
dangers of the trooper in emulation of the regular service man; and to this
body of men the corps specially appealed. Though at first some 5000 men
were called for, it was evident that 10,000 could have been recruited if needed.
The magnificent example set by thousands of young men in humble stations of
life, who left home and good employment courageously to serve their country,
acted as a powerful incentive to their more fortunate brethren of means and
leisure, and it was astonishing to find how readily all the members of the
“upper ten” sacrificed themselves rather than be “out of it.” Eventually the
Duke of Cambridge’s Own, the Special Corps, went to Africa, paying their own
expenses. In this corps every trooper, equally with every other member of
the Imperial Yeomanry, was entitled to a grant of £65 on joining, but all other
expenses were defrayed by themselves, and even the pay received during the
campaign was devoted to swell the Imperial War Fund for the widows and
orphans of soldiers who had fallen in action. The cost of equipment of each
recruit amounted to £170. The special purpose of the scheme was to attract
men of social standing and education, and enable groups of friends to serve
together in the same unit at the front. Among those who were enrolled was
Lord Elphinstone; Mr. Geoffrey Malcolm Gathorne-Hardy, grandson of the
Earl of Cranbrook; Captain Shaw; the Hon. Aubrey N. Molyneux Herbert
(brother of the Earl of Carnarvon); the Hon. A. Hill-Trevor. Lord Lovat
engaged himself actively in raising a corps of Highland gillies. In addition to
the Government grant, magnificent contributions poured in for the full equipment
of the corps. Lord Loch worked energetically in organising the South[Pg 170]
African Contingent of the Imperial Yeomanry. These troops were formed only
of men who had South African experience, and had seen service there.

The following is a list of the various battalions:—

1st Battalion (Colonel Challoner)—1st and 2nd Co. Royal Wiltshire
Yeomanry; 4th Co. Glamorganshire Detachment; 3rd Co. Gloucestershire
Yeomanry. 2nd Battalion (Colonel Burke)—32nd Co. Lancashire Hussars;
21st and 22nd Co. Cheshire Yeomanry; 5th Co. Warwickshire Yeomanry.
3rd Battalion (Colonel Younghusband)—9th Co. Yorkshire Hussars; 11th Co.
Yorkshire Dragoons; 12th Co. South Notts; 10th Co. Notts (Sherwood
Rangers). 4th Battalion (Colonel Blair)—7th Co. Leicestershire Yeomanry;
8th Co. Derbyshire Yeomanry; 6th Co. Staffordshire Yeomanry; 28th Co.
Bedfordshire Detachment. 5th Battalion (Colonel Meyrick)—14th and 15th
Co. Northumberland; 13th Co. Shropshire; 16th Co. Worcestershire. 6th
Battalion (Colonel Burn)—17th Co. Ayrshire Yeomanry; 18th Co. Lanarkshire
Yeomanry; 19th Co. Lothian and Berwickshire; 20th Co. Fife Light
Horse. 7th Battalion (Colonel Helyar)—27th Co. Royal 1st Devon,
Royal North Devon; 48th Co. North Somerset; 25th Co. West Somerset;
26th Co. Dorsetshire. 8th Battalion (Colonel Crawley)—23rd Co. Duke of
Lancaster’s Own; 51st and 52nd Co. Mr. Paget’s Corps; 24th Co. Westmoreland
and Cumberland. 9th Battalion (Colonel Howard)—29th Co.
Denbighshire; 30th Co. Pembrokeshire; 31st and 49th Co. Montgomeryshire.
10th Battalion (Colonel Lord Chesham)—37th and 38th Co. Buckinghamshire;
39th Co. Berkshire; 40th Co. Oxfordshire, 11th Battalion (Colonel
Wilson)—42nd Co. Hertfordshire; 43rd and 44th Co. Suffolk; 41st Co.
Hampshire Carabineers. 12th Battalion (Colonel Mitford)—34th and 35th
Co. Middlesex; 33rd Co. Royal East Kent; 36th Co. West Kent. 13th
Battalion—54th and 56th Co. Irish (Belfast) Companies; 45th Co. Irish
(Dublin) Company; 47th Co. Lord Donoughmore’s Corps (Duke of Cambridge’s
Own). 14th Battalion (Lieut.-Colonel Brookfield)—55th Co. Northumberland;
53rd Co. Royal East Kent; 50th Co. Hampshire; 62nd Co. Middlesex.
15th Battalion (Lieut.-Colonel Sandwith)—56th and 57th Co. Bucks; 58th
Co. Berks; 59th Co. Oxford. 16th Battalion (Lieut.-Colonel Ridley)—63rd
Co. Wilts; 64th Co. Cheshire; 65th Co. Suffolk; 66th Co. York. 17th
Battalion (Lieut.-Colonel Moore ?)—60th Co. North Irish, Belfast; 61st Co.
South Irish, Dublin. 18th Battalion—67th, 70th, and 71st Co. Sharpshooters.
19th Battalion (Lieut.-Colonel Rodney ?)—69th Co. Sussex; 68th Co. Paget’s
Corps; 72nd Co. Rough Riders; 73rd Co. Paget’s Corps.

Each battalion consisted of four companies of 116 each.

Colonel Viscount Downe, who was serving on Lord Roberts’s staff in South
Africa, was elected to command a brigade of the Imperial Yeomanry, and
Lieutenant the Hon. R. F. Molyneux, Royal Horse Guards, was selected as his
aide-de-camp.

Lord Dunraven’s Battalion of Sharpshooters embarked for Africa to join
the Rhodesian Force on the 6th of April. It was composed of four companies.
The 67th, under the command of Captain Crum (late 52nd Regiment), was
accompanied by Lieutenants Langford, Jones, Curley, and Dyke. The 75th,
commanded by Major Warden (late Middlesex Regiment), was accompanied
by Lieutenants Gabbett, Power, Warde, and Bosanquet. The 70th Company,
comprising the Scottish Unit under Colonel Hill (late 12th Lancers), was
accompanied by Lieutenants Clark, Torrance, Hotchkiss, and Andrews. The
remaining company was commanded by Sir Savile Crossley.

The Earl of Dunraven, the founder of the corps, went to South Africa as
Supernumerary Captain on the Battalion Staff.[Pg 171]

THE CITY IMPERIAL VOLUNTEERS

The announcement that the Government had decided to send to South
Africa a force of Volunteers, was received with general delight by our civilian
soldiers throughout the country. Here was a chance—a chance never before
offered to earn distinction in the field; and here was an opportunity—most
seasonable and appropriate, for the expression of public opinion, and for the
display, the universal and effervescent patriotism that had found little chance
of outlet in the prosaic walks of everyday life. The official intimation came
as a surprise, and surprise in a few moments developed into unrestrained joy.
The proposal to employ “a strong contingent of carefully selected Volunteers”
was no sooner published than the War Office was besieged with applicants
all eager to know what chance of being included in the great military movement
might be available. A few weeks before the opening of Parliament
Colonel Sir Howard Vincent volunteered “marksmen” for service in South
Africa, and other colonels of Volunteer regiments followed suit. General
Trotter (commanding the Home District) expressed a belief that the employment
of Volunteers in the present crisis would demonstrate for all who should
care to profit by the lesson the magnificent reserve force of civilian soldiers
possessed by our nation, a force utterly ignored by Continental nations. This
force was practically a force of picked men, selected marksmen who, unlike the
“Regulars,” were all first-rate shots, and fit to cope with the skilled sharpshooters
of the Boers. The marksmanship of many of the London corps of
Volunteers has for many years been phenomenal, and it was said that in one
company of the 13th Middlesex there were no less than sixty-three first-class
shots out of eighty. Finally, it was decided that the “C.I.V.’s,” as they were
called, should consist of 1400, and both corps sailed towards the end of
January. Prior to their departure the Freedom of the City was conferred upon
the officers of the regiment at the Guildhall, and later an impressive farewell
service was held at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Their departure through London
was somewhat difficult, owing to the dense and enthusiastic multitude that
thronged the streets to see the last of them.

12½-Pounder Quick-Firing Field-Gun—City of London Field Battery.
(By permission of Messrs. Vickers, Sons & Maxim, and the publishers of the Engineer.)

The Lord Mayor, Mr. Newton (now Sir A. J. Newton, Bart.), who was
the moving spirit in the organisation of the corps, gave an excellent account
of the splendid work that had been accomplished and of the prompt equipment
and despatch of the regiment. This report concisely and modestly describes
the enormous undertaking, though it does not sufficiently enlarge on the keen
personal interest and magnificent services rendered by the prime mover in the
great scheme. The Lord Mayor said: “From the moment when the Commander-in-Chief
did me the honour of placing in my hands, as Chief Magistrate
of the City of London, the organisation of a regiment of thoroughly
qualified Volunteers for service in South Africa, I have been profoundly impressed
with the responsibility of the trust, and the importance of every promise
made on behalf of the Corporation and City of London being fulfilled in its
integrity. The original promise was 1000 Metropolitan Volunteers, all recommended
by their commanding officers, all between twenty and thirty-five years,
all bachelors, and that at least 250 should be mounted. That was on the
20th of December (1899), and now, on the 3rd of February (1900), the City
of London, with the approval of the military authorities, has completely equipped
and despatched to the seat of war upwards of 1550 selected Volunteers, of
whom 500 men and 17 officers are already in Cape Town—all approved by the
General Officer commanding the Home District. Of these, 400 are mounted[Pg 172]
infantry, having their saddlery with them, and their horses ready at the
Cape. Four small Maxim guns, with 200,000 rounds of ammunition, have
also been shipped. A highly trained battery of field artillery, mainly provided
by the Honourable Artillery Company, through the zealous co-operation
of the Earl of Denbigh, composed of 140 men and officers, left the
Royal Albert Docks by the steamship Montfort. This section took with it
four 12½-pounder quick-firing guns and ample ammunition, together with
their full complement of 110 horses, purchased here, as they must be of a
stouter type than the Cape horses. The City has also—which was not
originally intended—provided the entire camp and tent equipment for the
whole force when it leaves Cape Town, and, at the request of the authorities,
done a good deal in the direction of land transport, without interfering with
the responsibility of the Headquarters Staff in South Africa in respect of
maintenance of the corps. The regiment constitutes a part of her Majesty’s
regular army. The officers and men are soldiers, and remain so during the
campaign. The time has been very brief, but there has been neither hurry
nor confusion, and the explanation of the successful results may be fairly
summed up as follows: As soon as Lord Wolseley accepted my offer, made
on behalf of the Corporation and City, I was in the position of an autocrat in
this business, and the power of the purse was promptly placed at my disposal—in
the first instance by the Corporation with its grant of £25,000, by the City
Livery Companies, the large shipowners, bankers, merchants, the Honourable
Artillery Companies, its members, and the citizens generally. The Metropolitan
Volunteer commanding officers vied with each other as to who could
send the most men, do the most work, and be the most useful. The result
is that, with the exception of a few staff officers from the regular army, the
officers of the City Imperial Volunteers are gentlemen engaged in civil pursuits,
but who have spent years in efficiently performing their duties. The non-commissioned
officers are most carefully picked from the vast band of qualified
men holding the same or higher rank in their own Volunteer regiments,
and every man of the rank and file has been expressly recommended by his
commanding officer for the particular duty allotted to him. Several committees
have dealt with sea and land transport, equipment, saddlery, and finance, and
Volunteer commanding officers have served on all these. A committee of the[Pg 173]
Honourable Artillery Company and the battery officers arranged the details
of their own equipment without coming to the Mansion House for anything
but the inevitable cheque. The selection of Colonel Mackinnon, A.A.G., Home
District, as commandant was a very fortunate one for all concerned. Major-General
Turner, C.B., R.A., has been constant in his attendance at the Mansion
House, and always at hand when technical assistance was required. Major
Freemantle and Lieutenant Grantham have been indefatigable, while my son
as hon. secretary to, and Mr. A. D. Watson, a member of, the Equipment Committee,
have gone to Cape Town as the connecting link for a short time between
the regiment and its headquarters—the Mansion House. Colonel C. G. Boxall,
C.B., on whose initiative I took up this work, has thoroughly and loyally
fulfilled in every sense his promise to me to see this business completed, for
which his admittedly great technical knowledge and his indomitable zeal in the
Volunteer cause so eminently fit him. Mr. Abe Bailey, D.L. of the City, who
from the first placed his services at my disposal, is acting as honorary agent
of the regiment at Cape Town. He purchased over four hundred horses, and
arranged for their being put in training and ready for the arrival of the first
contingent, besides rendering other and invaluable aid. Several City firms
have furnished contingents of their expert employees, whose services at the
Guildhall in the preparation and distribution of “kits” have been of great
assistance. The payment of accounts is now progressing, and at the first
opportunity an audited statement of receipts and expenditure will be presented.
In conclusion, I would state that the whole force has gone to the
front with no burning desire for glory, but with a determination to do its duty,
and with an intense loyalty and devotion to their beloved Sovereign.”

Roll of the City of London Imperial Volunteers.

Officers.—Infantry—Colonel, Earl of Albemarle; second in command,
Lieutenant-Colonel A. G. Pawle; Adjutant, Captain the Hon. J. R. Bailey.
A Company—Captain A. Reid; Lieutenant F. R. Jeffrey; Lieutenant E. D.
Townroe. B Company—Captain C. W. Berkeley; Lieutenant B. W. Garnett;
Lieutenant J. W. Cohen. C Company—Captain C. Matthey; Lieutenant the
Hon. S. McDonnell, C.B.; Lieutenant E. Treffry. D Company—Captain F. J.
Cousens; Lieutenant J. H. Smith; Lieutenant F. R. Burnside. E Company—Captain
R. B. Shipley; Lieutenant W. J. P. Benson; Lieutenant F. B. Marsh.
F Company—Captain W. Edis; Lieutenant P. F. Brown; Lieutenant S. H.
Hole. G Company—Captain A. A. Howell; Lieutenant C. P. Grindle; Lieutenant
P. Croft. H Company—Captain C. A. Mortimer; Lieutenant W. B. I.
Alt; Lieutenant B. C. Green. Quartermaster, Captain S. Firth. Medical
Officer, Surgeon-Captain E. St. V. Ryan. Staff—Colonel W. H. Mackinnon;
Lieutenant E. H. Trotter; Transport Captain J. E. H. Orr; Paymaster Captain
Triggs (late A. P. D.); Medical Officer, Surgeon-Captain R. R. Sleman;
Veterinary Officer, W. S. Mulvey. Battery—Major G. McMicking; Captain
E. C. Budworth; Lieutenant A. C. Lowe; Lieutenant H. Bayley; Lieutenant
J. F. Duncan; Surgeon, Captain A. Thorne. Mounted Infantry—Colonel H.
C. Cholmondeley; Adjutant Captain E. Bell; Quartermaster J. Ridler. Machine-Gun
Section—Lieutenant E. V. Wellby. No. 1 Company—Captain J. W.
Reid; Lieutenant G. Berry; Lieutenant W. H. Brailey; Lieutenant B. Moeller;
Lieutenant C. H. W. Wilson. No. 2 Company—Captain J. F. Waterlow;
Lieutenant A. Bailey; Lieutenant E. G. Concanon; Lieutenant A. H. Henderson;
Lieutenant E. A. Manisty.