[Pg i]

SOUTH AFRICA AND THE
TRANSVAAL WAR

[Pg ii]

THE QUEEN LISTENING TO A DISPATCH FROM THE FRONT.
From the Picture by S. Begg

[Pg iii]

South Africa
and the
Transvaal War

BY

LOUIS CRESWICKE

AUTHOR OF “ROXANE,” ETC.

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS

IN SIX VOLUMES

VOL. IV.—FROM LORD ROBERTS’ ENTRY INTO THE FREE
STATE TO THE BATTLE OF KARREE

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

MANCHESTER: KENNETH MACLENNAN, 75 PICCADILLY

1900

[Pg iv]

Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co.

At the Ballantyne Press

[Pg v]

CONTENTS——Vol. IV.

[Pg vi]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS——Vol. IV.

[Pg vii]

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE——Vol. IV.

FEBRUARY 1900.

12-13.—General French, following up
Hannay’s movement, crossed Riet
River, and next day with a strong
force marched twenty-five miles
into the Free State, seized Klip
Drift on the Modder River, occupied
the hills to the north, and
captured three of the enemy’s
laagers, with supplies.

13-14.—6th (Kelly-Kenny’s) Division on
north bank of the Riet River at
Waterfall Drift.

14.—Lord Roberts advanced to Dekiel’s
Drift.

15.—General French reached and relieved
Kimberley, captured Boer
laager and supplies, and forced the
enemy to withdraw.

The Boers evacuated Majersfontein
and Spyfontein, retreating to
Koodoosrand Drift.

16.—General Kelly-Kenny, in pursuit of
Cronje retiring east with 10,000
men on Bloemfontein, captured
78 waggons with stores, 2 waggons
with Mauser rifles, and 8 waggons
with shell belonging to Cronje’s
column.

Capture of Cingolo Hill by Sir
Redvers Buller’s force.

Lord Roberts occupied Jacobsdal.

Flight of Cronje’s force and occupation
of Majersfontein by the Guards.

17.—Cronje’s force overtaken and surrounded
at Paardeberg. General
Brabant engaged the enemy near
Dordrecht.

Successful reconnaissance by Colonel
Henderson from Arundel.

18.—Severe fighting at Paardeberg, where
Cronje was being gradually surrounded.

Capture of Monte Cristo. General
Lyttelton’s Division, by a brilliant
converging movement, drove the
Boers across the river.

19.—Capture of Hlangwane by the Fusilier
Brigade. The Boers evacuated
the hill, and left a large camp
behind them.

Bombardment of Cronje’s position
began. Boer reinforcements driven
back.

Cronje asked for armistice, but
Lord Kitchener demanded his surrender;
Cronje refused, and was
then bombarded heavily.

Reoccupation of Dordrecht. General
Brabant entered the town in the
morning, the Boers taking to flight.

20.—General Hart occupied Colenso.

Lord Roberts defeated Boer reinforcements
at Paardeberg.

21.—5th Division crossed the Tugela at
Colenso.

23.—Advance on Ladysmith continued.
The Boers’ position at Grobler’s
Kloof attacked.

The cordon round Cronje began to
close in.

Captain Hon. R. H. L. J. de
Montmorency, V.C. (21st Hussars),
killed while doing magnificent work
with his Scouts near Stormberg.

26.—Finding the passage of the river near
Colenso commanded by strong entrenchments,
Sir Redvers Buller
sent his guns and baggage back to
the south side of the Tugela, and
found a new crossing.

26-27.—Colesberg and Rensberg, having
been evacuated by the Boers, were
occupied by General Clements,
while Jamestown was occupied by
General Brabant.

27 (on anniversary of Majuba, 1881).—Cronje,
with 44 commandants and
other officers of all grades, and
over 3500 men, surrendered unconditionally
to Lord Roberts.[Pg viii]

Sir Redvers Buller’s force captured
the Boer position at Pieters. This
action opened the road to Ladysmith.
Boers retired north to
Ladysmith.

28.—Relief of Ladysmith after 120 day’s
investment.

MARCH 1900.

1.—Lord Roberts and Lord Kitchener
visited Kimberley and attended a
meeting in the Town Hall.

2.—Cronje and his staff, having been
moved to Simonstown under a
guard of City Imperial Volunteers,
were put on board H.M.S.
Doris, and sent to St. Helena.

3.—General Buller formally entered
Ladysmith.

Skirmish near Osfontein. General
French came in contact with a
Boer force, who tried to get away,
but were held to their position by
the British force.

4-5.—General Brabant advanced from
Dordrecht against Labuschagne,
and was completely successful.

5.—General Gatacre occupied Stormberg
without opposition.

7.—Lord Roberts dispersed Boers near
Poplar Grove.

General Gatacre reached Burghersdorp.

8.—General Clements occupied Norval’s
Pont.

10.—The Boers dispersed near Driefontein,
fifteen miles east of Poplar
Grove.

11.—Presidents Kruger and Steyn received
reply from the Prime
Minister refusing to entertain their
absurd overtures for peace.

12.—General French (with cavalry,
R.H.A., and Mounted Infantry)
arrived before Bloemfontein, and
captured two hills which command
the railway and town.

General French captured the railway
near Bloemfontein.

General Gatacre approached Bethulie.

13.—Lord Roberts occupied Bloemfontein.
His despatch ran:—“The
British flag now flies over the
Presidency vacated last evening
by Mr. Steyn, late President of
the Orange Free State. The inhabitants
gave the troops a cordial
welcome.”

14.—General Pretyman, C.B., appointed
Military Governor of Bloemfontein.

15.—General Gatacre occupied Bethulie.

Boers attacked Colonel Plumer’s
camp and were repulsed.

16.—Fighting at Fourteen Streams.

19.—Lord Kitchener occupied Prieska,
and received the submission of
rebels.

20.—Rouxville occupied by Major Cumming.

21.—Smithfield occupied by British
troops.

23.—Party of English officers shot near
Bloemfontein.

27.—General Clements occupied Fauresmith,
and arrested the landrost.

Death of General Joubert.

29.—Action at Karree Siding. Boer
position taken.

Wepener occupied by Brabant’s
Horse under Colonel Dalgety.

30.—Colonel Broadwood with Cavalry
Brigade and two batteries Royal
Horse Artillery at Thabanchu retired
on waterworks pressed by
the enemy.

31.—Loss of convoy and six guns at
Koorn Spruit.

Action at Ramathlabama for the
relief of Mafeking, and Colonel
Plumer’s small force repulsed by
the Boers.

MAP ILLUSTRATING THE MOVEMENTS FOR THE RELIEF OF
KIMBERLEY AND THE CAPTURE OF BLOEMFONTEIN

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

[Pg 1]

SOUTH AFRICA AND THE TRANSVAAL WAR

CHAPTER I

THE TURNING OF THE TIDE

February 27, 1900.

—Algernon Charles Swinburne.

THE VOTE OF CENSURE

The terrible events of the month of December had produced
a disquieting effect upon the public mind. Agitated questions
were asked on all subjects connected with the series
of catastrophes, and the replies were so unsatisfactory that
one and all became sensible that the actions of those in
power were not sufficiently in unison with public sentiment, and
even the keenest supporters of the Government numbly experienced
a loss of confidence in those at the helm. It was felt that some one
must be to blame for the miserable condition of affairs, the hideous
series of defeats that had made Great Britain an object of ridicule
on the Continent. For the forwarding of our troops “in driblets,”
for the ineffectiveness of our guns in comparison with Boer weapons,
for the uselessness of the carbine in competition with the Mauser,
for the scarcity of horses, for the preparedness of the Boers, for the
unpreparedness of the British, for the under-estimation of the strength[Pg 2]
of the enemy, and for many other things which tended to bring about
the national disaster, various members of the Government were
blamed. Charges of incapacity were levelled at the Secretary of
State for War, the War Office, and the Committee of National
Defence. Even the stoutest Tories were found declaiming against
the attitude of lethargy—flippancy, some said—adopted by those in
whose hands the fate of the nation rested. Mr. Balfour, in certain
speeches somewhat ill-advisedly delivered at a critical moment, had
contrived almost to wound people who were already deeply wounded
by humiliation and anxiety. His mood had not been in sympathy
with the public mood. He had endeavoured to brush away the
stern problems facing him by minimising their seriousness, by affecting
to believe that the Government was, like Cæsar’s wife, beyond
reproach. His attitude implied that the Cabinet could do no wrong,
and that the misfortunes and errors (if errors there were) were due to
a concatenation of circumstances for which neither the Government
at home nor the generals abroad could be held responsible. In
consequence of this attitude, on one side Mr. Balfour was blamed,
on another, Mr. Chamberlain. The Colonial Secretary was accused
of the policy of “bluffing with a weak hand,” while the Chancellor
of the Exchequer, as was inevitable, came in for his share of obloquy.
It was the cheeseparing principle that was at the bottom of it all;
cheeseparing and red-tape were responsible for debility and delay
of all kinds, and political inertia had undoubtedly spelt defeat.
The clamour was reasonable and just. It was felt that prudence
and energy should have served as fuel to stoke the engine of public
affairs, not as a brake to be put on in the face of disaster. On all
hands the public of one consent cried for a new broom and “a great
co-ordinating guiding mind,” and the universal clamour awoke the
Government to a consciousness that there are times and seasons
in the history of nations when party recriminations and crystallised
party etiquette must give way before the stress of a great national
need—the need to preserve at all costs the honour and the reputation
of the Empire in face of the whole world.

Accordingly, the opening debate of the Session was one which
cannot be passed over. The Queen’s Speech struck a note of decision
that was at once comforting and in sympathy with her people.
Thus it ran: “I have witnessed with pride and the heartiest gratification
the patriotism, eagerness, and spontaneous loyalty with which
my subjects in all parts of my dominions have come forward to
share in the common defence of their Imperial interests. I am
confident that I shall not look to them in vain when I exhort them
to sustain and renew their exertions until they have brought this
struggle for the maintenance of the Empire and the assertion of its
supremacy in South Africa to a victorious conclusion.[Pg 3]”

The Earl of Kimberley commented on the ignorance of the
Government regarding the military preparations that for years had
been going on in the Transvaal, and indulged in criticisms which
might have been weighty had his hearers not been tickled by the
strange irony of fate which converted into critic one of the authors
of the humiliating drama which had been left to shape itself from
the disastrous scena of 1881.

To these criticisms the Prime Minister—somewhat broken by
domestic bereavement—offered but a weak and depressing reply.
“How,” he asked, in regard to the Boer preparations, “could the
Government know what was going on?”

“I believe, as a matter of fact, though this must not be taken as official, that
the guns were generally introduced in the boilers of locomotives, and that the
munitions of war were introduced in piano-cases and tubs. But we had no
power of search, we had no power of knowing what munitions of war were sent
out. We certainly had no power of supervising their importation into the
Transvaal. It is a very remarkable peculiarity of the public opinion of this
country that people always desire to eat their cake and have it. They rejoice
very much with a spirit of complacency that we have a very small Secret Service
Fund. Information is a matter of money and nothing else. If you want much
information you must give much money; if you give little money you will get
little information; and considering the enormous sums which are spent by
other Powers, not least by the Transvaal Republic, in secret service—which I
was told on high diplomatic authority has been £800,000 in one year—and
comparing this with the ludicrously small sums which have for a great number
of years been habitually spent by English Governments, it is impossible for us
to have the omniscience which the noble Earl seems to regard as a necessary
attribute of Her Majesty’s Government.”

Further on he said:

“We must all join together to exercise all the power that we can give in
order to extricate ourselves from a situation that is full of humiliation and not
free from danger, though I do not say the danger may not be easily exaggerated.
Many a country has commenced a great war with difficulties of this
kind. We have only to look back at what the Northern States of America
went through at the opening of the Civil War to see how easy it would be to
draw a mistaken inference from the reverses which we have met at the opening
of this war. We have every ground to think that if we set ourselves heartily
to work and exert all the instruments of power we possess we shall bring this
war to a satisfactory conclusion. I think we must defer the pleasing task of
quarrelling among ourselves until that result has been obtained. We have a
work that now appeals to us as subjects of the Queen, as Englishmen, and it
must throw into shadow the ancient claims which party expediency has on the
action of all our statesmen.”

This speech concluded, Lord Rosebery suddenly sprang up, and
delivered himself with thrilling emphasis of sentiments which went
at once to the heart of the nation. Deeply he deplored the Prime[Pg 4]
Minister’s speech, which made it hard for “the man in the street”
to support the policy of the Government.

The country, he insisted, had a right to know if there was adequate
information given to the Government before the crisis of the
Transvaal affair, or even sufficient to guide them in their diplomacy
or their negotiation. “That is a point which the nation will insist on
knowing, whether in this House or the other. If you had not sufficient
information, dismiss your Intelligence Department, dismiss Mr.
Conyngham Greene and your consular agents wherever they had
touch with this matter—at Lourenço Marques or elsewhere. If you
did know of it, you have a heavy responsibility to bear. The noble
Marquis asks, ‘How could we see through a deal board?’ I
suppose he meant by that to allude to the pianoforte cases in which,
with more knowledge than he gave himself credit for, he unofficially
states that the ammunition was brought into Pretoria.”

Passing on to the question of Secret Service money, he declared
that the Government was in possession of a very commanding majority
in the House, and that if they had the responsibility of Government
they were bound to ask for what funds, whether Secret Service
or other, which they might think necessary for the safety of the
Empire.

“They cannot,” he pursued, “devolve that responsibility on others by speaking
of the working of the British Constitution. I ask noble Lords to analyse the
speech of the noble Marquis, which is still ringing in their ears. It is the
speech of a Minister explaining a disastrous position. He practically has only
given two explanations of that situation. They are, first, that the Government
had not enough Secret Service money to obtain information, and, secondly, the
mysterious working of the British Constitution. I suppose that there are
foreign representatives in the gallery listening to this debate, and I suppose
that the speech of the Prime Minister will be flashed to-night all over Europe,
and Europe, which is watching with a keen and not a benevolent interest the
proceedings of our armies in South Africa, will learn that the causes of our
disasters are one avoidable and the other inevitable. The avoidable one is the
inadequate amount of the Secret Service Fund, and the inevitable one the
secular working of the British Constitution.”

Leaving the question of unpreparedness, he came to the great
point, and asked what the Government intended to do.

“There is a paragraph in the Queen’s Speech which I rejoice to see, of a
somewhat didactic character in its first sentence, but not without interest in its
second. ‘The experience of a great war must necessarily afford lessons of the
greatest importance to the military administration of the country. You will
not, I am convinced, shrink from any outlay that may be required to place our
defensive preparations on a level with the responsibilities which the possession
of so great an Empire has laid on us.’ The noble Marquis made no reference
to that paragraph, except to say that he does not think we shall see compulsory
service in the life of the youngest peer present. I do not affirm or question[Pg 5]
that proposition, but I can say I do not think it is so immeasurably remote as
the noble Marquis considers that some form of compulsory service may have to
be introduced to meet the growing exigencies of the Empire. I am sure that
neither from this nor from any other sacrifice will the nation recoil to preserve
the predominance of our Empire. We have sent away from our island a
vast mass of troops which usually garrison it. Situated as we are in the
centre of a universe by no means friendly to us, that we should not have a
hint from the First Minister of the Crown what military measures the Government
propose to take in face of the disasters we have met with, and what
sacrifices we must inevitably be called on to make to redress them, is one of
the most extraordinary features of the working of the British Constitution on
which the noble Marquis has laid such great stress. I agree with him
in saying that the country will carry this thing through. It will carry
it through in spite of all the impediments, both of men and of methods, that
have shackled it in the past; but I venture to say that it will have to be
inspired by a loftier tone and by a truer patriotism than we have heard from
the Prime Minister to-night.”

Mr. Balfour, in the House of Commons, was as damping to
popular hopes as the Prime Minister in the House of Lords.
Regarding the all-important subject of the under-estimation of
the Boer strength, he somewhat airily said:

“It will be asked, How comes it, then, that this great under-estimate of the
Boer strength was made if we knew approximately what the Boer armaments
were, and what Boers were likely to take the field? I do not know that I have
got any very satisfactory answer to give to that question. It is a purely and
strictly military problem, and, as history shows, it is a kind of problem very
difficult to answer satisfactorily. You can gauge the military strength of a
European nation with a fixed army, with all their modern military apparatus, and
with all their military statistics at your disposal; but when you come to problems
of States whose military organisation is not of that elaborate kind,
great mistakes have been made in the past, and I doubt not great mistakes
will be made in the future. They certainly have been made by almost
every military nation of whom we have any record. But if this is regarded as
an attack upon the military experts of the War Office, it is surely an unfair
attack, because soldiers, who are not especially given to agreeing with one
another, were absolutely unanimous upon this point. I do not believe you will
be able to quote the opinion of a single soldier of any position whatever, or of
no position, delivered before, say, July 31 or August 31 last, indicating any
opinion which will show that the force which we in the first instance sent out
would not be amply sufficient, or more than amply sufficient, for all purposes.
(Cries of “What about Butler?”) The right hon. gentlemen put a question to
me about Sir W. Butler. We had not the slightest trace at the War Office in
any communication, public, semi-public, or private—no communication of any
sort, kind, or description, which indicated that in Sir W. Butler’s opinion the
force we sent out was not sufficient—I was going to say doubly sufficient—for
any work that it might be called upon to perform.”

Indeed, the whole tenor of the speech was generally regarded
as unsatisfactory and dispiriting. It was felt that, as Lord Rosebery
expressed it, the Government must be left to “muddle through[Pg 6]”
somehow. People who hung anxiously on the lips of the Government
for definite statements regarding future resolute action were
disappointed, and waited wearily the conclusion of the debate.

On February 1, Sir Charles Dilke drew vigorous comparisons
between the present and former campaigns. In regard to our lack
of artillery he said:

“All our generals had told us that direct artillery fire had failed against the
Boer entrenchments. It had been known for years past that direct artillery
fire would be likely to fail against strong entrenchments; yet we sent twenty-one
batteries of field-artillery to South Africa before the first one of the three
howitzer batteries was despatched. It was one of the strongest charges which
he and others had brought against the War Office for some years, that our
army was more badly supplied with field-artillery than any other army in the
world. It was not even comparable with the field-artillery of Switzerland and
Roumania. In regard to our guns, the Leader of the House had stated in a
speech at Manchester that we had guns in South Africa sufficient for three
army corps of regular troops. He should like to know on whose authority the
right hon. gentleman made that statement. The first force sent to South
Africa from India was supplied with guns, not on that scale, but still in fairly
decent and respectable measure. The forces of Lord Methuen and Sir Redvers
Buller fell altogether short of even the scale adopted for the Indian Contingent.
Both these generals had themselves called attention to their deficiency in
this respect. We had not even now got artillery on anything like the scale
laid down by the right hon. gentleman, and we could not have it in South
Africa, because we had not got it in the world. In these circumstances
he could only characterise the statement of the Leader of the House as entirely
erroneous and misleading, and altogether a blunder. With regard to the
batteries which were even now being sent out, many of them were manned
by reservists and by garrison artillerymen, who had had no experience in the
handling of modern field-guns.”

Proceeding to the question of lack of cavalry, he argued:

“With regard to cavalry as with regard to artillery, the first force was well
supplied, but the forces of Lord Methuen and General Buller were very
deficient in that respect. In that connection the First Lord had made an
attack on the critics of the War Office. He said they had not seen, or if they
had seen had not insisted on, a novel fact in the present war, namely, that for
the first time in the history of the world they had seen an army composed
entirely of mounted infantry. The right hon. gentleman had only
to read Sir William Butler’s ‘Life of General Colley,’ where he would
find very marked attention drawn to that matter. As to the Defence Committee
of the Cabinet, of which the right hon. gentleman was a member, though he
himself had been spoken of as the author of that body, he must admit that it
had failed. It was instituted after a correspondence in which he himself, his
hon. friend (Mr. Arnold Foster), and Mr. Spenser Wilkinson took part, and it
was not new to the present Government. It was instituted in the time of Lord
Rosebery’s Government as a Committee of the Cabinet, but it had been proclaimed
to the world in the time of the present Government. It had
failed on account of the slackness of those who attended the deliberations
of the Committee. It had not been worked as the authors of the proposal[Pg 7]
thought it might have been worked in the interests of the Empire. The
Committee ought to have foreseen these difficulties with respect to mounted
men; they were foreseen by military men. Though political differences
occurred between Sir A. Milner and Sir W. Butler, Sir A. Milner consulted
General Butler on the military aspect of the situation, and General Butler’s
opinions were known to the Government, or should have been. They were
known to Sir A. Milner at any rate and were not concealed by him when
he was in this country a year ago. According to his (Sir C. Dilke’s) information,
which reached him immediately after the statement had been made to
Sir A. Milner, General Sir W. Butler declared that 60,000 men would be
required in Cape Colony and 25,000 men in Natal. Leaving that, however,
what was the attitude of the Cabinet with regard to the need for cavalry?
They telegraphed to the Colonies to refuse mounted men. They gave
their reasons in the telegram of October 3: ‘In view of the numbers
already available, infantry most and cavalry least serviceable.’ On December
16 they telegraphed to the Colonies, ‘Mounted men preferred.’ After all
the loss of life that had taken place, and the months of checks and reverses,
they had discovered what competent soldiers had discovered before the war,
and must have told them, that mounted men were essential for a campaign
of this kind.”

In reply, the Under-Secretary of State for War made the first
telling and apposite statement which had been furnished for the
Government during the course of the proceedings. His exposition
was straightforwardness itself. Though merely the mouthpiece
of the Government, Mr. Wyndham gave utterance to definite statements
which created a very favourable impression throughout the
country, and served at once to wipe away the taste of foregone
pronouncements. He said:

“Every one to his dying day would look back with regret on the great
many disasters which had followed, but no one could ever know what would
have happened if the other course had been adopted. It was very easy to
conceive that if Sir G. White had not stayed at Ladysmith and Sir R. Buller
had not gone to his relief disaster might have been developed in another line,
and that there might have been that universal rising of the Cape Dutch which,
thank Heaven, had not occurred. When it was stated that Lord Methuen had
not sufficient cavalry and artillery with him, it must be remembered that Lord
Methuen was hurried off to the Orange River, and, as a matter of fact, he
arrived on the frontier in fewer days than the German army reached the
French frontier, and he had not with him the cavalry, which had been
diverted for the relief of Ladysmith and other purposes. On the morrow after
Nicholson’s Nek three more battalions were sent from home, though none had
been asked for, and Lord Landsowne offered a sixth division. In reply, he
was told that preparation was desirable, but that there was no immediate
need for its despatch. The situation was again changed by the reverses at
Stormberg and Magersfontein and the check at Colenso. Thereupon the
sixth division was ordered to embark without any communication from South
Africa, and at the same time the seventh division was ordered to be mobilised.
On December 15, the day after his check at Colenso, Sir R. Buller asked for
the seventh division, the mobilisation of which had already been ordered, and for[Pg 8]
8000 mounted irregulars from this country. Lord Landsowne replied that the
seventh division would embark on January 4, which it did. Next day the
first step was taken in connection with the raising of the Imperial Yeomanry,
and volunteers were invited to come forward in order to fill the places left
vacant by the raising from each battalion of one company of mounted infantry.
The patriotism of the Militia was also appealed to, and fourteen battalions
were now serving in South Africa, while others were on the way. A great
military authority once said, ‘When a battalion is asked for, send a brigade.’
That had been the course pursued by Lord Landsowne.”

In regard to the number of our guns, Mr. Wyndham continued
his argument in the following terms:—

“As the right hon. baronet had pressed for information with regard to
the number of guns which had been despatched to South Africa, it would not
be out of place to tell the House that we had sent and were sending 36 siege
train heavy guns; there were already there 38 mobile naval guns, and in
addition to these there were 36 5-inch howitzers carrying a heavy shell charged
with 50 lbs. of lyddite, in all 110 guns, some of them with a range of 10,000
yards, and all capable of throwing heavy shells. Besides these there were 54
horse-artillery guns and 234 field-artillery guns, in all, counting the howitzers,
324 guns capable of accompanying troops in the field. Including the two
mountain batteries, there were altogether 410 guns in South Africa, without
reckoning the guns that were going out with the Volunteers and the Colonials,
which would bring the number up to 452.”

THE MARQUIS OF SALISBURY, K.G.

PRIME MINISTER AND FOREIGN SECRETARY.

Photo by Russell & Sons, London.

Then taking the subject of mounted troops, he went on:—

“On the question of mounted troops, it had been said that the Government
announced to the world their conviction that unmounted troops were the kind
of troops most suitable to South African warfare. The word ‘mounted’ was
never used. However, he would not insist on that, but he did think that those
who had quoted this opinion so often should consider when they were used,
because then they would see that they gave no indication that the Government
held the opinion attributed to them. As a matter of fact, since the outbreak
of the war the Government had sent out a larger proportion of mounted troops
than was usually contemplated, because they believed that mounted troops were
especially suited to go to Africa. The time at which the phrase was used that
infantry was most wanted and cavalry least wanted was on October 3, before
the ultimatum was sent, before the war began, and at a time when Sir R.
Buller was satisfied that an army corps, a cavalry division, and the necessary
troops for the line of communication, giving 50,000 men in addition to the
25,000 already in South Africa, was an adequate force. When the question
of the Colonial Contingents was first raised, Queensland offered 250 and New
Zealand 200 mounted infantry, and the 108 New South Wales Lancers then in
this country volunteered, making in all 558 mounted men. No specific offer
was received from the other Colonies, but they expressed a wish that they
might be allowed to take some part in the campaign. He thereon consulted
Sir R. Buller as to the number that should be asked for in order that each
Colony might be represented more or less in proportion to their respective
populations. Sir Redvers stated that it would be easier to give the Colonial
troops an immediate place at the front if they were invited to contribute
manageable units of 125 men each. If the original offers of the Colonies[Pg 9]
had been accepted, there would have been 1375 more mounted men at the
front at an earlier date, when no one contemplated that the force sent out
would be insufficient for its task. The Colonial Legislatures have not changed
their note in consequence of the disappointments and reverses which have
been experienced, but have made further offers—an example which might well
have been followed nearer home. Altogether there had been accepted from the
Colonies 2075 unmounted and 4678 mounted men. The proportion of mounted
to unmounted troops in South Africa at four different periods were: In the
original garrison, 7600 unmounted and 2000 mounted; on October 9, the day
of the ultimatum, 12,600 unmounted and 3400 mounted; on January 1, 83,600
unmounted and 19,800 mounted; while the total number of troops in South
Africa, not including the Fourth Cavalry Brigade, were 142,800 unmounted
and 37,800 mounted, and in the next fortnight or three weeks there would be
out there 180,600 of all arms.”

Sir Edward Grey said:—

“He was giving the right hon. gentleman some instances of the value of
the support from his side. The primary object of the policy which had ended
in the war was not to drive the Boers from British territory, as they were not
then on it. The primary object was not to plant the British flag at Pretoria
and Johannesburg. These two things might be the result of the war, but they
were not the primary objects of the Government policy. The objects which he
wished to see attained, and which he would pledge himself to give the utmost
support to the Government in attaining, were, first, equal rights between all
white men in South Africa, and by that he meant that never again should a
situation arise in any part of the British sphere in which a modern industrial
community should be placed under the heel of an antiquated minority which
was dominated by prejudice and governed by corruption. The second object
was that never again in South Africa should it be possible for arsenals to be
formed or an accumulation of military material under any control except British
control. That was the end to be attained, and to that end the Government
would have support.”

On the 3rd of February Mr. Bryce expressed his opinions. He
affected to disbelieve that there had been any Dutch conspiracy to
drive the British from South Africa, and considered that, owing to
the menace of the Government in the arrangement of negotiations,
the meek Boer had no resource but to prepare for war.

Mr. Goschen admitted the gravity of the situation and the responsibility
of the Government en masse. The Cabinet, he decided,
must stand or fall together. The Admiralty, in acceptation of its
responsibility, had assisted the army with heavy guns without weakening
its resources. Lastly, he touched enthusiastically on the
exhibition of Colonial loyalty:—

“Before concluding I must say a word with reference to the Colonists.
They have been supporting us with unstinted loyalty and unstinted generosity.
There has been a spirit shown by the Colonies of affection to the mother
country which has been the admiration of the world. May we not suggest
that that unstinted loyalty and that unstinted generosity is to some extent[Pg 10]
a reward for the consideration which has been shown the Colonies for some
time past; and is it not right to remember that for years there has not been a
Secretary for the Colonies who has so endeavoured to win the affection of the
Colonies as the right hon. gentleman who now holds that office? You tax us
with not having shown foresight and judgment. At all events our treatment
of the Colonies has ensured, not their loyalty—that will always be there—but
the enthusiastic impulse of the Colonies to come to the assistance of the mother
country. We have a great work to do; we want to do that work, and now
hon. gentlemen opposite move an amendment the only object of which could be
to damage and weaken the Government, who are the instruments of the national
will. If hon. gentlemen opposite do not wish to take our places and to bear
the burden which rests on our shoulders, is it wise to endeavour to shake the
confidence of the country in the men who must continue this war, and gather
together all the forces of the Empire to bring it to a successful conclusion?
Supposing there should be a division which could be called a bad division for
the Government, what would the cheers which would greet that division mean?
They would mean, ‘We have succeeded in damaging and weakening the
Government.’ The time may come when we will be damaged. If the war is
not successful, sweep us away as men who have no judgment, but do not lame
the arm of the Executive Government when they have such a work on hand as
we have got to do. There has been patriotic co-operation between us and some
of the Liberal Party. We thank them for it. I believe this is a Parliamentary
bad dream—an interlude between the patriotic attitude of these gentlemen a
few weeks ago and the patriotic attitude which I hope we may look forward to
when this debate closes. They have assured the country they will support us
in going forward. I thank them for that, for it is more important than the
petty criticisms to which we have been treated. We are the trustees of the
nation for the work that has to be done. The nation will support us, I believe;
and so long as we receive that support, God willing, we will fulfil our task.”

Sir E. Clarke, among other things, said:—

“He did not believe the annexation of the Transvaal and the Orange Free
State would be of the slightest benefit to the country. The annexation of the
two Republics would compel us to very greatly increase our already enormous
military expenditure, and it would not give us any advantage commensurate
with the difficulties of administration. He had no desire to press his own
views, which were singular, and certainly not popular, on that side of the
House. He only pleaded that this question might be left open, and that
Ministers might not pledge themselves to a course which would involve so
great a sacrifice. While he agreed generally with the doctrine of Cabinet
responsibility, he considered that the real responsibility for the war lay with
the Colonial Secretary. The Prime Minister, in whom all England put the
greatest confidence, having many other things to deal with, and being distressed
by domestic anxieties, might not have been able to attend so closely as he
otherwise would have done to South African affairs; but it could not be gainsaid
that there were two men, one in this country and the other in South Africa,
who must be associated with the beginning of the war. He wished that the
highest sentiments of patriotism would induce those two men to leave to others
the positions they now occupied. He believed that the difficulties involved in
a solution of the questions arising out of the war would be increased by the fact
that the lines of communication and action in South Africa were in the hands[Pg 11]
of the Colonial Secretary and Sir A. Milner. He had not a word to say about
the honesty of these two gentlemen; but if, for a few weeks or a few months,
in this grave national crisis and time of deep anxiety, others could take their
places—if the Prime Minister himself would take under his own control the
communications of the Colonial Office with South Africa, and if Lord Rosebery
would give his services to the country, and go out to South Africa to assist in
a solution of the difficulties, it would be a sacrifice not too great to ask even
from the greatest men among us, and one for which the country would be very
grateful. He had said that he was not going to make a controversial speech.
He did not think he had. If he had, it had been with no intention of personal
attack or party bitterness, but with the deep conviction that in deciding on the
great issues with which Parliament had to deal we had to consider not only the
things of to-day but the things of the future.”

Mr. Chamberlain’s speech on the 5th of February was an
advance on former proceedings. Sir William Harcourt dilated on
the indomitable energy of a free people fighting for their independence,
praised the gallantry of the troops, and blamed the Government
for being led by the opinions of the authors of the Jameson
Raid, to which the Colonial Secretary made dignified reply. Finally
he questioned—

“How do we meet the charge of mistakes? Not by denying the mistakes,
but by saying what we have done and what we are doing to repair them. You
say we sent too few troops. We are pouring troops into South Africa, and, as
you have been told, in a few weeks you will have an army of 200,000. You
said we were forgetful of the need for mounted men. We have been increasing
the number of horse infantry until in a very short time the number of
mounted men in the British forces will be almost as great, if not as great, as
the total number of mounted men in the Boer army. You say our artillery is
deficient and not heavy enough. We have sent battery after battery, until now
you have an unexampled force of that arm. We have at the same time added
a number of heavier guns. When the war began, no doubt the needs of the
war were under-estimated at that time; it is part of the same mistake. We
failed to respond as we ought to have done to the splendid offers that came from
our Colonies. We accepted enough to show how much we valued their assistance,
but we hesitated to put on them any greater strain than necessary. But
what is happening now? They are multiplying their forces, and every offer
is gratefully and promptly appreciated and accepted. And we shall have
in this war before it is over an army of Colonials called to the aid of Her
Majesty who will outnumber the British army at Waterloo and nearly equal to
the total British force in the Crimea.”

In conclusion he said:—

“In Africa these two races, so interesting, so admirable, each in its own
way, though different in some things, will now, at any rate, have learned to
respect one another. I hear a great deal about the animosity which will remain
after the war, but I hope I am not too sanguine when I say that I do not believe
in it. When matters have settled down, when equal rights are assured to both
the white races, I believe that both will enjoy the land together in settled peace
and prosperity. Meanwhile, we are finding out the weak spots in our armour,[Pg 12]
and trying to remedy them. We are finding out the infinite potential resources
of the Empire; we are advancing steadily, if slowly, to the realisation of that
great federation of our race which will inevitably make for peace, liberty, and
justice.”

On the following night Mr. Asquith, on Talleyrand’s principle—that
speech is given us to hide our thoughts—dilated interestingly
on the position, his sympathies oscillating between the Opposition,
the Government, and Mr. Kruger. Sir Henry Campbell Bannerman
declared it to be the duty of the Opposition to press Lord
Edmond Fitzmaurice’s amendment to a division. He inferred that
the conspiracy of the Cape Dutch was a chimera, and went so far
as to suggest that when our military supremacy was asserted in
South Africa the question of settlement might be left to decide itself
sine die! Said he: “Provided that our territories are free and our
military supremacy asserted, what matters it at what time or what
place a settlement is arrived at?”

In his reply Mr. Balfour distinguished himself. He said that it
was discovered that the War Office has more than fulfilled its promises,
and appealed to the members of the Opposition who sympathised
with the justice of the war to reflect before voting for the
amendment. It was necessary to help the soldiers at the front by
proving to them that they were supported by a united country, and
that every hostile vote might induce or encourage our opponents to
prolong the contest. He concluded by saying:—

“Can they contemplate with equanimity that their first action in a session
of Parliament meeting under such circumstances should be a weakening of the
Government, whose hands they profess to desire to strengthen—whose hands I
believe they genuinely desire to strengthen—in every succeeding operation connected
with this war? Can they contemplate with equanimity the reflection
that possibly their votes may lengthen the war, and, by lengthening it, may
increase that tragic list of losses with which we are already too familiar? If
in giving their vote they add one fraction to the chances of a European complication,
one fraction of a chance that an unnecessary life may be lost or a
family thrown into mourning, can they easily reconcile that with their duty
towards their own principles and to that country of which they are, I believe,
as devoted servants as we on this side of the House? I think it is a violation
of every Parliamentary tradition that men who desire to keep in office a
Government should vote for an amendment which, if carried, will turn out that
Government, and that it is contrary to every patriotic instinct to vote in a
minority against the Government. The size of that minority will affect the
whole course of European policy, the whole course of the war. I have stated
the problem as it presents itself to my mind. I know that you are men of
conscience and honour, and I must leave it to you to decide the problem, each
man in his own case as his conscience and honour dictate. To the House at
large I can only make one appeal. It is that we, who are the representatives of
the country, may rise to the height reached by those whom we represent. I ask
no more, and I can ask no more, of the House than that they should imitate, for
they cannot exceed, the courage, steadfastness, resolution, and firmness under[Pg 13]
adversity, and the calmness of temper with which our countrymen all over the
world have dealt with the situation in its entirety. If the House of Commons
do, as no doubt they will, imitate, for they cannot better, the conduct of those
who have sent them here, then who can doubt that the clouds by which we
are at present surrounded will in a short time be dissipated and the Empire will
issue from the struggle in which it is now engaged stronger, not only in its own
consciousness of strength, but in the eyes of the civilised world.”

SERGEANT OF THE IMPERIAL YEOMANRY.

Photo by Gregory & Co., London.

In the end, by 352 to 139—a majority of 213—the vote of
censure on the Government moved by Lord Edmond Fitzmaurice
was defeated. The decision adequately expressed the feelings of
the country. It must be remembered that many of the Government
supporters were in South Africa, consequently a total poll of 491
represented a heavy vote. The following list serves to show the
number of members of both Houses who had sacrificed party spirit
to patriotic convictions, and had proceeded to the front:—

House of Lords.—Earl of Airlie, commanding 12th Lancers; Earl of
Albemarle, lieutenant-colonel, City of London Imperial Volunteers; Lord
Basing, major, 1st Dragoons; Lord Castletown, special service, South Africa;
Lord Chesham, commanding a battalion of Imperial Yeomanry; Earl Cowley,
lieutenant, Imperial Yeomanry; Lord Denman, lieutenant, Imperial Yeomanry;
Earl of Dudley, D.A.A.G. for Imperial Yeomanry; Earl of Dundonald, C.B.,
major-general, commanding 3rd Brigade (Natal) Cavalry Division; Earl of
Dunraven, captain, Imperial Yeomanry; Earl of Erroll, special service, South
Africa; Earl of Essex, second in command of battalion of Imperial Yeomanry;
Earl of Fingal, lieutenant, Imperial Yeomanry; Lord Kitchener of Khartoum,
G.C.B., K.C.M.G., Chief of the Staff; Earl of Leitrim, lieutenant, Imperial
Yeomanry; Earl of Longford, captain, Imperial Yeomanry; Lord Lovat,
captain, Lord Lovat’s Corps; Duke of Marlborough, staff captain for Imperial
Yeomanry; Lord Methuen, K.C.V.O., C.B., commanding 1st Division in South
Africa; Duke of Norfolk, K.G., captain, Imperial Yeomanry; Lord Roberts of
Kandahar, K.P., G.C.B., G.C.I.E., G.C.S.I., V.C., Field Marshal Commanding-in-Chief;
Lord Romilly, special service, South Africa; Lord Rosmead, major,
6th Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers; Duke of Roxburghe, lieutenant, Royal
Horse Guards; Earl of Scarborough, second in command of battalion of
Imperial Yeomanry; Earl Sondes, lieutenant, Imperial Yeomanry; Duke of
Westminster, A.D.C. to Governor; Lord Wolverton, second lieutenant,
Somersetshire Yeomanry Cavalry; Lord Zouche, lieutenant, Imperial Yeomanry.

House of Commons.—Mr. W. Allen, trooper, Imperial Yeomanry;
Hon. A. B. Bathurst, captain, 4th Battalion Gloucester Regiment; Colonel
A. M. Brookfield, commanding battalion of Imperial Yeomanry; Lieutenant-Colonel
R. G. W. Chaloner, commanding battalion of Imperial Yeomanry;
Hon. T. H. Cochrane, captain, 4th Battalion Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders;
Lord A. F. Compton, captain, Imperial Yeomanry; Viscount Cranborne,
commanding 4th Battalion Bedford Regiment; Mr. W. Bromley-Davenport,
captain, Imperial Yeomanry; Sir J. Dickson-Poynder, lieutenant,
Imperial Yeomanry; Viscount Folkestone, major, 1st Wilts Volunteer Rifle
Corps; Mr. W. R. Greene, lieutenant, Imperial Yeomanry; Hon. J. Guest,
lieutenant, Imperial Yeomanry; Mr. G. Kemp, captain, Imperial Yeomanry;[Pg 14]
Mr. E. H. Llewellyn, major, 4th battalion Somerset Light Infantry; Mr.
H. L. B. McCalmont, commanding 6th battalion Royal Warwick Regiment;
Mr. F. B. Mildmay, lieutenant, Imperial Yeomanry; Viscount Milton, lieutenant,
Imperial Yeomanry; Mr. D. V. Pirie, with Remounts Department, South
Africa; Lord Stanley, special service, South Africa; Lord Edmund Talbot,
special service, South Africa; Viscount Valentia, A.A.G. for Imperial Yeomanry;
Major W. H. Wyndham-Quin, captain, Imperial Yeomanry; Major
the Hon. H. V. Duncombe, adjutant, Imperial Yeomanry; Sir Elliott Lees,
captain, Imperial Yeomanry; Sir S. Scott, lieutenant, Imperial Yeomanry.

KIMBERLEY

There was little bombardment after the 25th of November, and
though not living on the fat of the land, the garrison was not
short of provisions. Mr. Rhodes, with characteristic forethought,
now caused the formation of a committee to inquire into the resources
of those dependent on the men killed, with a view to compensating
them for their loss, and in other ways exerted himself for the
welfare of sufferers in the town.

Considerable friction occurred between the civil and military
authorities. The clashing of wills was inevitable in so small an
area, for Colonel Kekewich represented military power, while Mr.
Rhodes could be no other than he is, and ever has been—a power in
himself. It was unfortunate that two such forces should have been
placed in collision, but it remains to the credit of both that, in spite
of the tension of the situation, they should have co-operated to the
end to save the town from the common enemy, and protect the
interests and lives of all who, but for this co-operation, might have
suffered much more intensely than they did.

Early on the morning of the 9th of December a force with a
battery under Colonel Chamier—to whom the efficient and mobile
condition of the artillery was due—made a reconnaissance to the
north. The Lancashire’s Mounted Infantry and two guns were
posted on Otto’s Kopje while the Cape Police protected the Dam
Wall. The Kimberley Light Horse in the centre extemporised some
rifle-pits out of some prospectors’ huts in order to cover retreat when
necessary.

The enemy were screened by the debris of a wall at Kamfeens,
but when the boom of the British gun burst out and a shell roared
in their midst, they hurriedly sought cover in their foremost rifle-pits,
whence with great energy they “sniped” in the direction of the
officers who were superintending the operations. Meanwhile tremendous
barking of cannon and pinging of rifles continued, the
Boers having got the range of Otto Kopje to perfection. The
troops had an exceedingly hard time, but continued their operations
till dusk. They lost only one killed and four wounded.[Pg 15]

On the wise principle that it is safer to act early on the aggressive
if you do not want to have to act late on the defensive, the
smart little force indulged in more military movements.

Shell Picked up in Kimberley Streets.

Photo by Alf. S. Hosking, Cape Town.

Colonel Kekewich’s general plan for the defence of Kimberley was
based on the principle of always keeping the enemy on the move and
constantly in fear of attack from an unexpected quarter, but the immediate
object of the numerous sorties and demonstrations in force now
made by the garrison was to assist the operations of Lord Methuen.
The Colonel explained that, “when the advance of the Relief Column
from the Orange River commenced, and I was put in possession of information
concerning the probable date of its arrival at Kimberley,
I adopted such measures as I hoped would cause the retention of a
large force of the enemy in my immediate neighbourhood, and thus
enable the Relief Column to deal with the Boer force in detail.”
As the portions of mounted corps were continually employed, the
work which fell on the detachment, 1st Batt. Loyal North Lancashire
Regiment, Cape Police, Diamond Fields Horse, Kimberley Light
Horse, and the Diamond Fields Artillery, was very arduous; but
the bravery and dash of these troops was unending. Colonel
Murray, of the Loyal North Lancashire, was invaluable in many
capacities, and Captain O’Brien of the same regiment, in command
of a section of the defences, was unfailing in energy and zeal. Cool
as the proverbial cucumber were Major Rodger of the Diamond
Fields Horse and Major May of the Diamond Fields Artillery.
The motto of these officers was the reverse of that of the notable
gens d’armes, for they were “always there when wanted,” and gene[Pg 16]rally
in the fore-front. The officers of the Kimberley Regiment, too,
were conspicuous for courage, coolness, and sagacity. They knew
as by intuition what was wanted and did it. From Colonel Finlayson,
who commanded the regiment, to Surgeon-Major Smith, who tended
the wounded in the field, there was none who did not contribute to the
stock of efficiency which was placed at the disposal of the Colonel.

On the 20th of December, the mounted detachments under
Colonel Peakman, with maxims and 7-pounders under Colonel May,
started off in the pitch darkness of 2 A.M., and marched through
Kenilworth in the direction of the wreck of Webster’s Farm, and on
towards Tollpan in the Free State. British cannonading then took
place, the Kimberley guns shelling Tollpan Homestead at 2500
yards’ range, and the Boer gun on Klippiespan ridge returning the
compliment with interest. Fortunately the hostile shells burrowed
deep in the sandy soil, and consequently little damage was done.
The Boers were found to be very comfortably situated at the three
corners of a six-mile triangle—at Coetgie, Scholtz, and Alexandersfontein—commanding
three separate sources of water supply.
This reconnaissance was of importance, as the positions of the
enemy’s guns and outposts were determined, and the garrison was
enabled to be on guard against raiders and snipers, and to protect
itself, its patrols, and cattle from the fire of the enemy. In the
matter of protecting the cattle from the tricks of the Dutchmen, as
in many other ways, Mr. Fynn, manager of the De Beers farms,
did splendid service. This gentleman was Mr. Rhodes’s right-hand
man, and as a natural consequence of the honour he enjoyed rose
to every occasion that offered, now managing a corps of scouts, now
superintending the conveyance of food, now dealing with truculent
natives, and always conducting his varied avocations with immense
energy and tact.

Lieutenant.

Captain.

Adjutant.

THE ROYAL LANCASTERS.

Photo by Gregory & Co., London.

On the 22nd of December a good deal of martial activity took
place. At cockcrow a detachment of mounted forces, with artillery
and infantry, went west for the purpose of reconnoitring Voornitzright
and part of Weldermstkuil. On the right were the Diamond
Fields Horse under Major Rodger, supported by a company of the
North Lancashire Regiment under Lieutenant de Putron. Presently
an animated cannonade began between the enemy’s artillery from
Kamferdam and the Diamond Fields Artillery guns on Otto’s Kopje.
In the centre Colonel Peakman, with the Kimberley Light Horse
and Cape Police, proceeded along Lazaretto Ridge. There, before
retreating, he made the necessary discoveries—firstly, that the Boer
patrols were then the only occupants of the place, and secondly,
that the enemy’s reinforcements were advancing behind Wimbledon
Ridge. Meanwhile Colonel Chamier on the left, with R.A. guns
and an escort under Major Snow, was exchanging salutations with[Pg 17]
the Boer guns posted in the earthwork in the centre of Wimbledon
Ridge. This occupation was pursued for some time, during which
the enemy were found to be rapidly approaching. Directly the guns
were limbered up some 500 Boers came on the scene, and began to
pour a fierce fire from the earthworks at the foot of the Ridge upon
the Kimberley troops, who retired to cover. The object of the
reconnaissance was gained, however, for it proved in what an
inconceivably short space of time the enemy could summon his
reinforcements, and, moreover, that three of his guns were yet in
the neighbourhood of the town.

On Christmas Eve congratulations were received by flashlight
signals from the Military Secretary at Cape Town:—

“Convey to Colonel Kekewich and all the garrison and inhabitants of
Kimberley his Excellency’s best wishes for their good luck on Christmas Day
and in the coming New Year.”

Colonel Kekewich replied:—

“Kindly inform the Military Secretary that I and the garrison and inhabitants
of Kimberley thank his Excellency for his kind message. We also wish respectfully
to offer our very best wishes for Christmas and New Year.”

This little interchange of compliments caused infinite pleasure to
those whose days were one unvarying round of trial and suspense. The
weather was exceedingly hot; at times the thermometer registered
105° in the shade, and life without absolute necessities in torrid
weather is trying even to the patience of the active. To those whose
intercourse with the world was confined to flashlight signals, it was
barren in the extreme. But with much pluck they thus announced
their sentiments in a journal called the Diamond Fields Advertiser,
which still maintained a languishing existence: “Excepting two or
three of our inhabitants who shared the terrible privations of the siege
of Paris, few of us have ever spent such a Christmas before, and few
will ever care to spend such a Christmas again. The scarcity of
turkeys and plum-pudding at this time of traditional plenty need
only distress the gourmand. The majority of the people of Kimberley
are happily made of sterner stuff, and do not look for luxuries
in a time of siege.” They were nevertheless not utterly plum-puddingless.
Mr. Rhodes, with characteristic forethought, had caused
to be cooked in the Sanatorium some two score of these bombshells
to digestion, and had distributed them in each of the camps. Here
they were devoured with much merrymaking and a general interchange
of felicitations, which went on by telephone from one camp
to another. From the Mounted Camp to the Royal Artillery:
“Best wishes and longer range to your guns.” From the gunners,
in return, while they kept one ear open for movement in the[Pg 18]
direction of the Boers’ “Susannah:” “May our range be always
long enough for us to be guardian-angels to the Mounted Corps.”

On the following day the artillery was at work responding to the
salutes of the Boers, who commenced to fire with great activity
after their Christmas rest. They dropped some thirty-five shells
in the direction of the fort, and received nineteen well-directed
replies. Two of the mines were fired by the thunderstorm of the
previous night, but no one was injured. Food now was becoming
more and more scarce, and those connected with the distribution of
provisions had to exercise much forethought and economy.

The task of arranging for the victualling and supply of the
garrison and 40,000 people in the town was undertaken by Major
Gorle, Army Service Corps, and the zeal and resource which he
brought to bear on his onerous duties were applauded on all sides.
Of course there were found persons who, on the take-everything-from-everybody-else-and-give-it-all-to-me
principle, thought they were
badly treated, but these were the exception rather than the rule.
The arrangements for milk were made by a special civil committee,
consisting of Mr. Oliver, the Mayor, whose courage and energy in
keeping up the spirits of the people were wonderful, Mr. Judge,
and four visiting surgeons of Kimberley Hospital, Doctors Ashe,
Watkins, Mackenzie, and Stoney. These made themselves notable
for the untiring energy with which they devoted themselves to their
incessant duties. They kept a sharp eye on the milk, serving it out
cautiously at the depôt, and only to those who had a medical certificate
that they required it. The Colonel was very appreciative of the help
given by most of his civilian coadjutors, for, in reference to the difficulties
of his position, he stated in his despatch: “It will be realised
that, under the peculiar circumstances in which the defence of the
scattered town, containing over 40,000 inhabitants and much valuable
machinery, was entrusted in the first instance to a force consisting
of about 570 Imperial troops and 630 Colonial troops, my efforts
would have been of no avail had it not been for the valuable assistance
and advice which many citizens afforded me in a military as
well as a civil capacity.”

Mr. Henderson, Captain Tyson of the Kimberley Club, and
Dr. Smart collaborated with the ruling spirit of the place, organising
relief committees, distributing thousands of pints of soup per diem,
and apportioning such fruit and vegetables as were to be had for the
good of those who were most sorely in need. That green stuffs were
scarce may be gathered from the fact that the allowance for nine
people for half a week was a bunch of five carrots, four liliputian
parsnips, and several beets (duodecimo editions). The garrison,
later on, were glad of mangel-wurzels, when quantity rather than
quality came to be appreciated.[Pg 19]

The Boers were now beginning to build redoubts on Dronfield
Kopjes, about a mile east of the railway and in a northerly direction,
showing that whatever withdrawals might be going on from besieged
places elsewhere, the City of Mines would receive its due of attention
up to the last. The Boer prisoners inside the town presented
quite a rejuvenated appearance, owing to the delicate attentions of
Mr. Rhodes. Christmas saw them provided with new outfits, and a
general air of cleanliness and health pervaded them. The invalids
in hospital, both British and Boers, were visited frequently by the
Colossus, whose generosity in the matter of delicacies, which were
now very scarce, was highly appreciated.

Much of the Kimberley news was obtained through the energy
and acuteness, almost amounting to genius, of the despatch-runners.
Of these, Mr. Lumming of Douglas succeeded in getting in and out
of the town with missives for and from Mr. Rhodes, always at
tremendous risk. The Boers had offered a large reward for his
capture. On one occasion, so as to evade observation in a district
swarming with the enemy, he had to travel quadruped fashion on
hands and knees for some thirty miles. Tales of the despatch-runners’
ingenuity in all parts of the Colony were many. One Kaffir
boy, though caught by the Boers and stripped by them, carried his
despatch safely, it having been packed in a quill and hid in his
nostril, while another—a canny Scot—concealed his treasure in the
inmost recesses of a hard-boiled egg.

On the morning of the 27th of January the mounted troops under
the indefatigable Colonel Peakman at an early hour reconnoitred the
Boer position near the Premier mine. The Boers were indulging
in a last little doze, when some shells were neatly dropped into their
laager. The alarum was effective. They were up and doing in no
time, and set to work firing with the utmost vigour, but their shots
were not accurate and much waste of ammunition took place. It
may be remembered that Colonel Peakman, Kimberley Light
Horse, after the death of Colonel Turner was selected for the
command of the mounted troops in Kimberley. A tower of strength
of himself, he was surrounded by a gallant crew, among whom
were Major Scott, V.C., Captains Ap-Bowen and Mahoney (both
severely wounded on the 25th of November), Captains Robertson
and Rickman. There were also in the corps several lieutenants
conspicuous for dash and daring, notably Lieutenants Hawker
(wounded 22nd November), Harris, and Chatfield. Of the Colonel
an amusing tale was told, which, if not vero, was certainly bentrovato,
and served to cheer up those who needed to salt the monotonous
flavour of daily life. It fell to the duty of Colonel Peakman to introduce
horse-flesh at the officers’ mess, a ticklish task, and one that
required considerable tact. When the dish was served, the Colonel[Pg 20]
said, “Gentlemen, as I was unable to get the whole of our ration in
beef, a part of it had to be taken in horse-flesh. Here is the beef,”
said he, carving at the joint opposite him, “that at the other end of
the table is the horse. Any one who prefers it may help himself.”
No one accepted the invitation, and after there had been a great run
on the beef, the Colonel suddenly said, “By Jove, I’m mistaken; of
course this joint is the horse, the other is the beef!” Thus the
palates of the heroes of the Kimberley Light Horse were educated
to the fare that was shortly to become unvaried.

Later on, a chunk of donkey occasionally replaced the equine
morsel, and cats, it was noticed, began to be less in evidence. There
were whispers—hints—— But to proceed to facts.

On the 29th a tussle took place between the foe and a man named
Sheppy, who, with twelve mounted natives, was herding a thousand
De Beers horses and mules. The cattle-drivers were at work when
out from the bushes rushed a hundred Boers. These at once opened
fire, but the herdsmen managed to return it and effect their escape.

The transformation of diamond-diggers into warriors was an
entire novelty, of which Kimberley boasted not a little. The entire
community of the De Beers Company were now soldiers of the Queen,
receiving the same rate of pay as before, with food in addition. The
total white population in the town was 14,000, and of these 6000
were employés of the mine, men from Natal. The Company worked
wonders—of course under the auspices of the ruling genius of
Kimberley. They stuck at nothing, from assisting with food supplies—distributing
soup in gallons—to providing for the employment of
upwards of 4000 natives in making improvements in the town.
Sanitation too they undertook when contractors failed, and, when the
supply of water was cut off at the main reservoir by the enemy, they
came to the rescue by providing another source of water supply.

Owing to the excellent management and regulation of stores, the
community had hitherto been enabled to live at normal prices, and
food had been within the reach of all. But now the pinch of the
siege began to be felt. Luxuries such as eggs, vegetables, &c.,
were naturally scarce, but horse-flesh even grew to be limited, for
there was little forage left. The tramcars ceased to work, and Dr.
Ashe predicted that presently there would be “no carts save military
ones and the doctors’ and the hearse!”

People had to take their meat allowance half in beef and half in
horse-flesh, and the over-fastidious were but meagrely nourished.
These, however, soon came to “take their whack” of horse-flesh
gladly, and some even declared that horse, by any other name,
would be quite appetising! Conversation largely consisted of speculations
regarding food or its absence, and once or twice there was a
rub with the military. Dr. Ashe expressed himself frankly when[Pg 21]
confronted with red-tape difficulties, addressed the Colonel—of course,
minding p’s and q’s, for people had to look to the dotting of i’s and
crossing of t’s in those days—and suggested that, “in matters which
affected the health and feeding of the people,” the doctors thought
that, in virtue of their knowledge of town, climate, and people, they
might be consulted. The objection to the red-tape difficulty being
proved sound, the Colonel at once altered the routine, but, said Dr.
Ashe, “he flatly declined to ask any opinion from the general body
of doctors, as they might have ideas which would affect the military
situation.”

“Long Cecil,” made at the De Beers Mines.

Photo by D. Barnett, War Correspondent.

The new gun, “Long Cecil,” manufactured in De Beers, was
greatly prized. It distinguished itself on its début by plumping a
shell in the centre of the Kamfersdam head-laager exactly over the
position of the Dutchmen’s gun. Bombardment continued spasmodically,
sometimes at night, the shells entering several houses and
“making hay” of the furniture; but wantonly barbarous was the
attack on the laager containing the women and children, which took
place on the 23rd of January. One of the little innocents was killed
and another probably maimed for life. On the 24th more bombardment
began as early as four in the morning, and firing continued[Pg 22]
all day. The worst feature in the affair was the attack—deliberate
and premeditated it appeared—on the hospital, which caused general
grief and indignation. There was no excuse for such inhumanity,
as the place was distinguished by two Red Cross flags.

Very lamentable was this habit of the Boers to violate the
sacred rules of the Geneva Convention, for it alienated even those
who were in sympathy with their cause. They could not plead
ignorance of the rules of warfare, for at one time they ignored these
rules to play the barbarian, while at another they utilised them to act
the poltroon. The history of the Convention may not be generally
known. It was promoted in 1864 and subsequently signed by all the
Continental Powers. It was decided that—

1. Ambulances and military hospitals were to be recognised as
neutral, and as such to be protected and respected by all belligerents.

2. The personnel of these hospitals and ambulances, including the
intendance, the sanitary officers, officers of the administration, as well
as military and civil chaplains, were to be benefited by the neutrality.

3. The inhabitants of the country rendering help to the sick and
wounded were to be respected and free from capture.

4. The sick and wounded were to be attended to without distinction
of nation.

5. A flag and a uniform were to be adopted for the hospitals, ambulances,
and convoys of invalids; an armlet or badge for the personnel
of the ambulances and hospitals.

6. The badge was to consist of a red cross on a white ground.

Committees were formed throughout Europe and America to
carry out this convention, and the Society worked under the title of
the “International Society of Aid for the Sick and Wounded.” It
played its first important part in 1870 in the Franco-German War,
before which time battlefields had been scenes of almost inhuman
torture.

Now, in consequence of the brutal disregard of a world-appreciated
agreement, the Boers—in many ways men of fine character—were
placing themselves beneath contempt. Their conduct also to
the loyalists and non-belligerents was also causing exasperation.

The ministers of all denominations—Wesleyan, Presbyterian,
Baptist, Congregational, and Jewish—all united in condemning the
Boer Government and its methods. They were especially scandalised
at the inhumanity of the Dutch commandoes, who intermittently
poured shells not only into the heart of the town, but into the suburbs,
where women and children were known to congregate, while leaving
for the most part unmolested the forts occupied by the citizen-soldiers.
Homes were destroyed mothers and children stricken
down, and some killed. These might have been looked upon as[Pg 23]
the accidents of war had it not been confessed in Boer papers that
such acts were deliberately committed and vaunted.

Spasmodic bombardment took place during the evening of the
24th, and continued through the night, striking some buildings—the
hospital and other defenceless positions—and maiming a woman
and her child. Another child was killed. Profound admiration
was expressed by all in the achievements of “Long Cecil,” and the
utility of the new long-range weapon was highly appreciated. Indeed,
Mr. Rhodes viewed this Kimberley masterpiece with quite a paternal
eye, and his pleasure in firing it was considerable.

Enough could not be said of the splendid valour and pertinacity
of the townspeople, who co-operated in the warlike proceedings
as though they had been to the manner born. Though
the fortification belt was some twelve miles in circumference, at all
points it was protected by these amateurs of the sword, who, under
no military obligations whatever till sworn in on the immediate
emergency, rose to the occasion with a chivalric warmth that was as
perfectly amazing as it was admirable. Devotion to the Sovereign
Lady who rules the Empire was never more steadfastly shown and
more ardently maintained.

The zeal and the “go” of the Cape Police was notable. Among
the most prominent of the corps were Colonel Robinson, gallant
Major Elliot and Major Ayliff (wounded on December 3), who was
brave as he was tactful. Perpetually useful and conspicuously
gallant were Captains Colvin, Crozier, White, and Cummings.
Their duties, most difficult, were almost interminable.

Life was monotonous in the extreme. From the town it was
possible on clear days to view the Modder River balloon, and the
occasional sight of it afforded a stimulus to the drooping spirits
of the inhabitants. Its rotund form floating so peacefully high in
air seemed like a harbinger of hope promising and consoling, and
teaching the lesson of patience and perseverance that overcome
all things! Of course, it was only the sentimentalists of the community
who thus interpreted the language of the aërial monster,
but these, like the people who find sermons in stones, promptly
took heart, and bore their trials with renewed dignity and pluck.
Both these qualities were in great demand, for the Boers and
their tactics were exhausting to the patience of the most forbearing.
Their pertinacity was great. At one moment they would pour
shells into the town, making hearts palpitate or stand still in horror
at the gruesome fracas; at others they would persistently “snipe”
from hidden corners and bushes, and render movements in the
open, to say the least of it—inconvenient.

Sniping always continued, though, for a day or two, no serious
bombardment took place. Indeed, there was reason to believe that[Pg 24]
a Boer gun was hors de combat. The report came in that “Susannah”
had burst. There was general jubilation. Later on it filtered out
that “Susannah” was “all serene,” but this was doubted. The sanguine
hoped against hope. We are ready enough to believe what
we wish to be true, and finally, for want of something to discuss,
the question of “Has she burst, or has she not burst?” was
bandied about in the tone of a popular riddle. Unfortunately
“Susannah” was intact, as subsequent experience proved. Not only
was “Susannah” herself again, but it was reported that a considerable
Boer reinforcement had arrived in the neighbourhood, and that three
guns from Spyfontein were being ranged in attitude to defy “Long
Cecil,” whose prowess was more decided than pleasant. Still the
inhabitants bore up very creditably, and enlivened themselves continually
with concerts or entertainments of some kind. The programmes,
it must be noted, were always marked “weather and Boers
permitting”—a modern adaptation of the customary D.V.

The Boer spies took a lively interest in all that concerned Mr.
Rhodes, and hopes were entertained that before long some one
would receive the price of his capture. But this gentleman pursued
his avocations in the town and its suburbs with unabated interest,
arranging for the comfort of the refugees, and evincing paternal
solicitude in the laying out of new suburbs, and the construction of a
regular row of bomb-proof shelters, which were being excavated at
Kenilworth. People now became great connoisseurs on the virtue
of brick, old and new, and began to mistrust corrugated iron as
affording less protection from the artillery fire of the enemy. They
became judges also of shell—of the peculiarities of shrapnel and
ring shells—and sapiently discussed the merits of time fuses and
percussion fuses. Food, however, was the prime subject of conversation—a
subject of “devouring” interest, some one said. The
refugee fund now amounted to £3000, owing to the united subscriptions
of Mr. Rhodes and the De Beers Company. It was none
too much, as the demand on its resources was some £600 weekly.

LIEUT.-GENERAL THOMAS KELLY-KENNY, C.B.

Photo by C. Knight, Aldershot.

The Colossus, regardless of the fate that hung over the town,
continued to make plans and projects for the development of the
place. On a high plateau he purposed to create a new suburb, and
the name will doubtless bear a relationship to the great events of
1900. A column was in course of erection to commemorate the
siege, but the tale of bombardment, writ large on many of the buildings,
is one that will scarcely be forgotten, and forms memorial
enough. Some curious damage was done, a shrapnel shell electing
to penetrate the wall of a draper’s shop and wound a feminine
dummy and smash a wax effigy of a boy used as a clothes model.
Fortunately few human beings suffered. Great precautions were
taken for the safety of the inhabitants, and a look-out was kept, so[Pg 25]
as to give warning by whistle whenever the smoke of the enemy’s
guns breathed a hint of coming destruction. A calculation was made
as to the sum total expended by guns, British and Dutch, and it was
discovered that Kimberley had fired 1005 shells, while the besiegers
had spent three times that number. The total loss of life attributable
to shell fire amounted at this date to about twelve killed.

Affairs within the town were now growing almost as bellicose as
affairs without it. Continued friction generates heat, and of this
throughout the siege there had been more and more as time went
on. It was quite evident that Kimberley was not sufficiently large
to afford an arena for the combat of brains versus military discipline,
and that the patience of the besieged was nearing the snapping-point.
Indeed there was doubt as to whether operations for the relief of
Kimberley would be pursued, and it is averred that the Commander-in-Chief
sent a message to Mr. Rhodes, saying, “Hope I shall not
be compelled to leave you in the lurch.” Naturally the Kimberley
barometer fell to zero. Then came rumours of the coming of Lord
Roberts, but these scarcely served to allay the general impatience.

A curious incident occurred on the 29th. Some thirty-five Zulus
took their departure. They had been ordered by their chief to leave
the town, but when they obeyed they had promptly to return, as
they encountered the Boers, who threatened to shoot them.

At this time food was becoming more and more scarce; even
horse-flesh was distributed with caution. Milk was obtainable only
by the invalids, and some four hundred babes died for want of proper
nourishment. It was pathetic to see people standing at the Town
Hall waiting eagerly to take their turn for the scanty portion of
meat that could be provided for them. The ceremony of the
drawing of meat rations had an aspect almost comic in its desperate
seriousness. Matutinally at 5.30 A.M. might be seen a
vast concourse of persons scampering in hot haste to gain a front
place. So animated was the early bird to catch its morning worm,
that it was up and doing before the regulated hour, 5.30 (fixed by
proclamation), before which time people were forbidden to leave
their houses. The police put a stop to this superactivity, and hungry
persons were seen from five to the half-hour waiting patiently at
their gates till the exact moment should arrive when they could
make a dash for a place in the tremendous crush which, two by two,
gathered outside the market.

Marvellous was the rapidity with which this vast crowd, at hint
of a shell, would drop to earth. As by some mechanical process
there would come a bang, and then, like a card castle, the whole
procession would drop flat. The Boers, knowing, most probably,
that this was an eventful period of the morning, would invariably
start off about six with a boisterous “good-morrow.[Pg 26]”

Gradually the rations grew shorter and shorter and shorter. They
now consisted mainly of horse-meat, served out every second day,
mealie meal, stamped mealies, with a sparse allowance of tea, coffee,
and bread. For those who had children under three years of age one
tin of milk was allowed. With this strong children could get along
well, but there were many weakly ones, and these waned and waned
till the baby funerals became pathetically frequent.

The Dutchmen were exceedingly ingenious in the invention of
tricks and traps. One of these was to move a waggon with sixteen
fat oxen in charge of but two men into the open Vlei below Tarantaal
Ridge, and there to leave it, apparently unguarded, for two hours.
They thought that this bait would lure forth the cattle-guard, but
they were disappointed, for the authorities were too acute to allow
them to get “a bite.” They knew that in rear of the Vlei was a
deep sand-drift, behind which a large body of men might be comfortably
concealed, and consequently left waggon and cattle severely
alone.

After this began the bombardment by a new Boer gun—a diabolical
instrument, whose perfections were hymned by an artillery
expert, who declared it to be one of the most perfect pieces of ordnance
ever made! A correspondent in the Daily Telegraph described the
terrifying effect produced on the nerves of the sick and the weakly. He
went on: “The shock caused by the firing of this gun was distinctly
perceptible five feet under ground at a distance of five miles, and
the miniature earthquake thus created was clearly registered by the
new seismograph at Kenilworth, the pendulum of which remained
perfectly stationary during the firing of the smaller guns, or the
passage of the most heavily laden trains or vehicles at very close
quarters.”

The 9th of February was a terrible day. There was crashing and
booming from morning till night, and no one dared venture abroad.
One inhabitant had his child killed under his very eyes and his wife
mortally stricken down. Towards sundown a shell struck the Grand
Hotel, killing Mr. Labram, the De Beers chief engineer, whose
valuable brains had been the salvation of the place. He had constructed
armoured engines, armoured trains, and had completed his
ingenious labours by constructing the huge 4.1-inch gun, with carriage
and shells complete—a triumph of science considering the conditions
under which the achievement was attempted. Now he was gone,
and Kimberley was vastly the poorer.

The bombardment was growing daily more severe. Each time
the Boers fired their 100-pounder gun a bugle was blown from the
conning tower and all ran to cover. There would be an interval
of seven minutes between every shell, and the bombardment would
last for about two hours. Then the Boers would take a rest, and,[Pg 27]
after a breathing spell, begin again. By the kindness of Mr. Rhodes
the mines now became harbours of refuge for thousands of women
and children, who, huddled together in the 1200-feet level, were thus
protected from the shells which were launched in the midst of
the town. Those days in dark diamondiferous caverns were full
of strange experiences. There, over a thousand shrinking beings
found asylum, bedding, food, and such comfort as could be secured
for them. There, babes were born into the world—human diamonds
brought into the daylight from the grottoes of the millionaires—babes
which surely should take some strange part in the
drama of the century. It was an underground village swarming
with the weak and the distressed, a feminine populace, kept from
panic and despair by the man who, large enough to make empires,
yet proved himself capable of sympathy with the small sorrows and
quakings of the sick and the fearful.

Placard Erected by Mr. Rhodes.

Photo by F. H. Hancox, Kimberley.

The experiences of a lady who enjoyed the hospitality of the
mine were scarcely exhilarating. She said: “We went down the
mine, but only stayed one day. Of course, one felt safe, but it was
so miserable; still, it was another siege experience, the crowds of
people down there. On the 1000-feet level were 500 persons alone,[Pg 28]
and the buzz of tongues, and the children crying, and the noises
altogether, besides the damp, were horrible; although Mr. Rhodes
and those working under him did all in their power to make things
as comfortable as possible. Hot coffee, soup, bread, milk for the
children, everything obtainable was sent down; and some thousands
of people were fed free of charge from the Saturday night till the
following Friday morning…. Those people who run down Mr.
Rhodes should have been here during the four months of the
siege. The soup-kitchen was another of his institutions, threepence
a pint for good soup, and those who had no money got it free.”

Now that the nerve-destroying capabilities of the Boers’ 100-pounder
gun were proved, and Mr. Rhodes and other citizens were
conscious of the immense amount of danger to town and life that
must result from the bombardment, the Colossus, in conjunction with
the Mayor and others, forwarded to Colonel Kekewich a letter which
he begged might be heliographed to headquarters. The letter ran:—

“Kimberley, February 10.

“On behalf of the inhabitants of this town, we respectfully desire to be
informed whether there is an intention on your part to make an immediate
effort for our relief. Your troops have been for more than two months within
a distance of little over twenty miles from Kimberley, and if the Spytfontein
hills are too strong for them, there is an easy approach over a level flat. This
town, with a population of over 45,000 people, has been besieged for 120 days,
and a large portion of the inhabitants has been enduring great hardships.
Scurvy is rampant among the natives; children, owing to lack of proper food,
are dying in great numbers, and dysentery and typhoid are very prevalent.
The chief food of the whites have been bread and horse-flesh for a long time
past, and of the blacks meal and malt only. These hardships, we think you
will agree, have been borne patiently and without complaint by the people.
During the last few days the enemy have brought into action from a position
within three miles of us a 6-inch gun throwing a 100-lb. shell, which is setting
fire to our buildings and is daily causing death among the population. As you
are aware, the military guns here are totally inadequate to cope with this new
gun. The only weapon which gives any help is one of local manufacture.
Under these circumstances, as representing this community, we feel that we
are justified in asking whether you have any immediate intention of instructing
your troops to advance to our relief. We understand large reinforcements
have recently arrived in Cape Town, and we feel sure that your men at Modder
River have at the outside 10,000 Boers opposed to them. You must be the
judge as to what number of British troops would be required to deal with this
body of men, but it is absolutely necessary that relief should be afforded to
this place.”

To this Lord Roberts replied:—

“I beg you represent to the Mayor and Mr. Rhodes as strongly as you
possibly can the disastrous and humiliating effect of surrender after so prolonged
and glorious a defence. Many days cannot possibly pass before Kimberley
will be relieved, as we commence active operations to-morrow. Future[Pg 29]
military operations depend in a large measure on your maintaining your position
a very short time longer.”

A great deal of gossip hung round the suppression of the
Diamond Fields Advertiser, but the whole affair was merely a storm
in the ink-pot resulting from the clashing of opinions civil and military.
After the publication of a leading article on the 10th of
February, an article with which Mr. Rhodes was entirely in accord,
the military censor addressed the following letter to the editor:—

“Army Headquarters,

Kimberley, February 10, 1900.

“Sir,—Since the Diamond Fields Advertiser has now on two occasions
printed leading articles on the military situation which are extremely injurious
to the interests of the army and the defence of this town, without previously
submitting the same to the military censor, I am directed to inform you that
from this date the proof of the Diamond Fields Advertiser must be submitted
to me before the copies of any daily number, leaflet, or other form of publication
is issued to the public.

“I am further requested to inform you, in your own interests, that on the
two occasions referred to you have committed the most serious offences dealt
with by the Army Act, under which Act you are liable to be tried.—Yours
faithfully, W. A. O’Meara, Major, Military Censor.”

The military censor was within his rights. The editor, after the
manner of editors, did not care to be muzzled, so the Diamond
Fields Advertiser was temporarily suspended.

The editorial chair at the time was not an enviable berth, owing
to the invasion of shells from the 100-pounder gun, therefore the
holiday may have been beneficial in more ways than one.

The new gun, mounted on the kopje at Kamferdam, was determined
to make life hideous, and so incessantly swept the
neighbourhood that a state of panic began to prevail even among
those who had hitherto borne themselves with unconcerned front.
In addition to this perpetual tornado of horror the pinch of famine
was becoming sharper, and the question of relief seemed to be
growing into one of “now or never.” Despair seized on many.
They began to count the days, and wonder when it would all end,
and whether indeed it would ever end at all! Two days—three
days—five days—the 15th of February! Then, dramatically, as in
a fairy tale or a stage play, came the rumour of help, the whisper
that French, the gallant, the energetic, the invincible, was coming,
as on the wings of the wind—coming to restore freedom to those
who, in their tedious imprisonment, were fainting with hope deferred.
In an instant all was changed. The rumour became reality. Colonel
Kekewich and his staff rode forth, and it was as though the good
fairy had waved a wand. In an instant the dismal streets seemed[Pg 30]
to grow gaudy with flags, to flutter and flare as with the hues of the
butterfly. Panic ceased, and gave way to almost hysterical joy.
People laughed, chaffed, threw up their hats. The mines disgorged
their human wealth—some thousand of women and children, who
came forth alacrious, with swinging step and loudly babbling—babbling
like mountain torrents let loose from the ice of winter! It
was a scene for painter, not for penman; for who shall describe
wrinkles of anxiety swept suddenly away, pangs of hunger allayed
by thrills of glad excitation, nervous exhaustion magically forgotten,
and all this simply because there was dust in the distance—the dust
of coming feet—the dust of the British cavalry sweeping nearer and
nearer on a glorious errand of deliverance!

Five minutes later the looked-for moment had arrived. Anticipation
had given way to fact—the 124 days’ siege was at an end.
Yet there were some who could scarce believe their ears. A man,
hearing that General French had arrived, approached a trooper who
was holding a horse outside the Club, and asked if the good news
was true. “Yes,” was the reply; “I’m ’is horderly; this is ’is ’at,
and over there is ’is ’orse!” And the Kimberley man stared at the
three objects before him as though he could never take his fill of
satisfaction.

GENERAL FRENCH’S RIDE

And now, as the conjuror says, to explain how it was all done.
The object of the combined movements was to turn Cronje’s position,
which extended west and east from Majersfontein to Koodoesberg
Drift on the one side towards Klip Drift on the Modder on
the other, to relieve Kimberley, and, if possible, cut off the retreat
of the Boers to Bloemfontein and invest the whole force. This
stupendous programme was unfolded to General French and his
A.A.G. Colonel Douglas Haig at the time already mentioned,
when the great cavalry leader mysteriously ran down from Colesberg
to the Cape. Here the plans for the future campaign were
discussed, and here General French agreed to embark on an enterprise
which had it failed in a single particular might have brought
about “such a disaster as would have shaken England’s dominion
in South Africa to its very foundation.” This is the opinion of
Captain Cecil Boyle, a splendid young officer, who, when asked to
join General French’s staff as galloper, was almost overcome with
joy. But the plan did not fail: indeed it succeeded beyond expectation,
and the relief of Kimberley, accomplished solely by the mounted
troops—said to be the largest force ever commanded by a British
General—was a feat scarcely to be excelled in the annals of warfare.
This feat was performed between the 11th and the 15th of
February, during which the Division experienced hardships of[Pg 31]
every kind. Horses and men were worked incessantly, without
a day’s rest and in a broiling sun, which literally baked every
portion of the human frame exposed to it, and grilled the eyeballs,
causing the most acute suffering to man and beast. Supplies
and forage ran short, and the horses were reduced to 1½ lb. of corn
a day, while the men lived finally from hand to mouth, killing and
eating as they went along, now a sheep, now a goat, and presently
nothing but boiled mealie cobs. Water was so scarce, and the
sufferings of the animals so terrible, that when a stream was once
encountered, the brutes, wild with an anguish of delight, tore towards
it in their frantic career, becoming absolutely beyond control,
and carrying their riders straight into the river. Some in this way
were drowned. Many horses died of exhaustion. At the end, out
of 8000, only 5400 remained. But all discomforts were forgotten in
the success of the achievement, which from first to last was conducted
with admirable finesse and consummate dash. Indeed this
marvellous ride is looked upon by those who could technically
criticise the difficulty and daring of the enterprise as one of the
finest achievements of British arms.

On the 11th of February the great cavalry division under
General French started. With marvellous rapidity, and with a vast
amount of mystery, the troops had gathered together in the neighbourhood
of Enslin or Graspan, and commenced to move south-east
on the now celebrated march for the relief of Kimberley. So
swiftly was everything planned, and so dexterously was it accomplished,
that even the wary Cronje, whose spies were everywhere,
was incapable of believing that the detested rooineks were advancing
with the rapidity of a cyclone for the purpose of sweeping him and
his burghers from their comfortable positions. But a clean sweep
they made nevertheless. Before the British advance Dutchmen
fled precipitately from their farms, leaving their sweet mealie pap in
statu quo, and all their effects exactly as they had been using them.

They carried to Cronje wild rumours of British multitudes
approaching, and preparing to make a last frontal attack upon
Majersfontein, rumours which exactly suited Lord Roberts’ strategic
plan. Cronje instantly primed himself for the reception of the
British, strengthening his fortifications and keeping his eye on the
west, where he knew the Highland Brigade was operating. This
again was precisely what Lord Roberts had intended him to do.

Meanwhile, in the light of the stars, the great cavalry division
with its batteries of artillery was on the move, rumbling cautiously
through the mysterious, Boer-haunted regions under the guidance
of the Hon. Major Lawrence, Chief of the Intelligence Department,
and travelling many miles before sunrise on its important journey to
Ramdam. Here horses were watered, men rested, details and remounts[Pg 32]
from Orange River picked up. On the morning of Monday the
12th, the troops were again on the move, starting at 3 A.M., and
endeavouring to cover as many miles as possible before the sun should
rise and make the whole earth into a scorching, blistering wilderness.
But now, in return for the cool night air, they had to contend with
jetty obscurity. Very slow, therefore, was their progress. When
helped by the dawn they got along faster, and soon the whole division
reached Waterval. Here extra precautions were taken, for none
knew how many Dutchmen might be ensconced in the surrounding
kopjes or whether the drift might be swarming with Boers. But
they were not long left in doubt. A Boer shell greeted the troops
with such nicety of range that the General and his staff barely
escaped. Colonel Eustace, R.H.A., immediately turned his attention
to the hostile gun, and shortly silenced it, but the enemy still
held on.

Dekiel’s Drift is commanded by kopjes, having on the bank an
octopus-armed donga which cuts deeply into the soil. At this drift
the Boers endeavoured to make a stand, but the Mounted Infantry
and Roberts’ Horse were too much for them. Unfortunately, Captain
Majendie, second in command of the latter regiment, was shot
from Drift Kopje, in the shadow of which his remains were interred.
There was no time for expression of mourning and regret; the Boers
had to be routed, and presently, finding their rear threatened, they
went streaming away from their strong position, taking with them
their guns. After this the drift was taken possession of, and in the
rays of the setting sun the disciplined hosts—brigade after brigade—crossed
the Riet River, keeping possession of both banks.

Horses and men were wearied out, scorched, and famishing, and
there was a general sense of relief when at last they were joined by
Lord Kitchener and staff and the Sixth Division, with convoys of
provisions and fodder. At dawn on Tuesday a great deal had to
be done—breakfast finished, nose-bags filled, &c., before it was
possible to order the advance. Day was well developed by the time
the brigades had started, and now came the exceeding trials of their
march. The level veldt was like a mirror to a brazen sky, and all
through the sweltering hours when the sun blazed its strongest, men
and horses, shadeless, parched, and sparsely fed, moved on mile after
mile on their imperative errand without pause and without relief.
Even a beautiful well of water, which tempted them to distraction,
had to be passed by untouched. It was necessary to reserve it for the
infantry, who were following on the morrow. So dry, dejected, yet
determined, they went on and on, crossed the districts of Poortje,
Zwart Kopjes, Kromkuil, and made a brief halt at Wegdraai.
From thence they swung along past pans and kopjes and plains,
due north to Klip Drift.[Pg 33]

THE DASH FOR KIMBERLEY—THE 10th HUSSARS CROSSING KLIP DRIFT.

Drawing by John Charlton, from a Sketch by G. D. Giles, War Artist.

Captain Boyle, in the Nineteenth Century, gave a fresh and
spirited account of their movements on this important and critical
march.

“The distance covered in extended order was great, and to save
the artillery horses Major Lawrence directed the columns by a slight
détour north-easterly, leaving Jacobsdal some seven or eight miles
to our left. The heat was now intense, and was further increased
by the accidental burning of the veldt over a large area, thereby
destroying our field-cable, as we learnt afterwards. From flank to
flank the distance was so great that at times the General’s gallopers
could not move their horses out of a walk, though the message was
important, and everywhere men and horses alike suffered from sun
and thirst.

“General Gordon’s brigade, far away on the left, was ordered to
bring up its left shoulders to meet what looked like an attack on the
right, but the guns of the 1st Brigade put the enemy to flight, and
the march was resumed in slightly different order. The left brigade,
under General Gordon, was ordered to advance; the centre brigade,
under General Broadwood, was deployed to the right; and the right
brigade, under Colonel Alexander, was ordered to follow in the rear.
From a little stone-covered knoll the General and his staff scanned
the distant river and its banks eight miles off, and instantly determined
to push on for the drift. ‘Move up the whole division,’ and
the three gallopers started back with the order to the brigades,
which had been halted meanwhile. General Gordon on the left,
with the 9th and 16th Lancers and his guns, and General Broadwood
on the right, with the 12th Lancers, Household Composite, and 10th
Hussars, moved off at once; but Colonel Alexander’s brigade was
far in the rear—he had already lost sixty horses, and the rest could
move but slowly. The artillery horses could scarcely drag their
guns and waggons, but still the General determined to force the
drift; and I believe this decision was one of the most critical in the
relief of Kimberley, for, had we not gained the drift directly our
presence was known, the enemy would most certainly have fortified
a very strong natural position. But the General’s mind was made
up, and he was quick to act. Throwing Gordon on to the left to
effect a crossing, and Broadwood some five miles away on his right,
the advance to the river was made so swiftly that the enemy were
absolutely surprised. After shelling for some time, Gordon crossed
and went in pursuit. Only four guns out of twelve could come into
action in the centre, but with such effect that the enemy shortly
retreated over the hills. By this time General Broadwood had
crossed on the right, and his brigade trumpeter sounded the
‘pursue.’ The general rout was now complete—camp, waggons,
everything was in our hands. New bread was lying about on the[Pg 34]
veldt and dough-tins ready to be placed on the fire, with such haste
had the Boers left their position.

“My horse had died with my last message to the 1st Brigade,
and I trudged on over the level veldt partly on foot, partly on
ammunition waggons, over the last five miles, crossed the Modder
River with the four guns of P and G Batteries, and went to congratulate
the General, who was sitting on the north bank, on his
splendid achievement; for by this last forced march of nearly ten
miles he had won half his way to Kimberley. Little incidents after
the rout were full of the humour that hangs around everything
grave. One of the staff plunged into the river and caught some
geese, but some one else ate them; a pig ran the gauntlet through
the camp—amidst roars of laughter, even from the serious General—of
lances, bayonets, knives, sticks, boots, water-bottles, anything
to hand, and at length was caught by a lucky trooper, who shared
his feast that night with his friends. A waggon of fresh fruit was
taken, sufficient to make thirsty men’s mouths water, but some
thought the grapes were sour. Why the Boers retreated in such a
hurry is difficult to understand, for the position and drift were very
strong and easy to defend, especially against a spent foe; and, but
for the quickness of the advance over the open veldt, which took
the Boers completely by surprise, the division would have encountered
a very nasty opposition.”

The Dutchmen were pursued with splendid animation by
General Gordon’s jaded brigade, who succeeded, worn out as
they were, in capturing some ambulance waggons and some Boer
doctors; while General Broadwood’s brigade, also worn out, chased
the Boers into the far distance till absolute exhaustion forced the
abandonment of the pursuit. So at the drift the cavalry division
enjoyed its terribly needed repose. They had gone through an
appalling ordeal, but it had been wonderfully surmounted, and the
command of river both at Klip Drift and Klip Kraal, some miles to
the east, had been secured.

On the 14th the Boers still continued to buzz about after the
fashion of mosquitoes—now advancing, now retiring, worrying and
annoying, but never coming boldly to the attack.

They made strong efforts to fathom the movements and designs
of the British, but without success. Colonel Gorringe, Chief of
Lord Kitchener’s Staff, now arrived, and announced that Lord
Kitchener and General Kelly-Kenny were advancing by night from
Dekiel Drift, whereupon Captain Laycock, A.D.C., rode out and
succeeded by midnight in conducting these officers safely to camp.
In the small hours the Sixth Division, after a hard and really
glorious march, which must be described anon, arrived. Thus his
left flank being secured, General French was free to pursue his[Pg 35]
impetuous ride. This he did after handing over to the infantry the
positions he had gained. While the cavalry division moved out,
Kelly-Kenny’s division—as in the game of “general post”—quickly
shifted to the vacant place, thus making any return of the fleeing
Boers impossible.

The three cavalry brigades then drew up in columns of brigade
masses, with the seven batteries of horse-artillery on their left,
where the strongest attack from the laager near Kimberley was
expected. How far the Boers were aware and prepared for the
British move was uncertain, but it was decided that at all costs the
cavalry would cut through them.

Operations began with the shelling and capture of two laagers on
the north side of the river, and the way being thus cleared of the
enemy, the division made its way to a point where it was met by the
contingent from the Modder River. The force, now increased by
Scots Greys, Household Cavalry, and two Lancer Regiments, numbered
some 10,000 men, seven batteries of horse-artillery and three
field-batteries.

Scarcely had the brigades proceeded before the Boers opened
fire, and soon men and gunners fell, and horses riderless and pairs
devoid of drivers were seen rushing madly over the plain. From a
kopje on the right came the rattle and roar of musketry, which was
replied to by the guns of the horse-artillery. There was no
doubt now that a horde of Boers were hiding in front, and that the
way forward was only to be gained by a desperate plunge. There
was no hesitation. General Gordon and his gallant men were ordered
to charge and clear the right front, and the thing was done. Away
went the 9th and 12th Lancers, galloping for all they were worth,
on and on like a flash of avenging lightning. At sight of the human
avalanche the Boers, who had been “raining hell” from their
trenches, suddenly threw up Mausers and hands; but it was too
late, the whirlwind was upon them, and over a hundred Dutchmen
bit the dust. Others ran helter-skelter, a whimpering and shouting
rabble!

Now came the greatest sight that military men have witnessed
for years—the rush of the legions across the great plain of Alexandersfontein.
This vast area, about three to five miles square, is
surrounded by menacing kopjes, which harboured Boers rendered
desperate by surprise and consternation. Across the open the
Lancer regiments and Scots Greys as advance guard, with the
rest of the force deployed at ten yards’ intervals, rushed like a
hurricane, a sirocco in the desert. Boers still showered down their
lead, but the cavalry, heedless, thundered along, throwing up a
volume of dust, while kopje after kopje was swept by the mounted
infantry. The enemy was dispersed on every side.[Pg 36]

Five long miles the race of the centaurs continued—centaurs
galloping as if for dear life—Carabineers and Greys leading the
main body, the 12th Lancers on the left, the Household Composite
Regiment with the 9th Lancers on the right—a regal show,
and one worth a lifetime to have witnessed.

Typical Underground Dwelling at Kimberley.

At De Villiers the exhausted warriors watered their horses and
strove to gather together the poor brutes for a final effort. Many
were sun-stricken, others had simply used themselves up. The
speed that was to outwit Cronje had to be paid for in horse-flesh.
But, owing to that speed, much loss of human life was spared.
Lieutenant Sweet Escott (16th Lancers) had fallen early in the
day, but considering the fire of the enemy it was a marvel that only
one officer had been killed. One man was also slain, and there were
about thirty wounded.

At two o’clock the troops were halted at the base of a small
kopje, from the crown of which it was possible to descry the chimneys
of Kimberley in the distance. It was as though they had sighted
the Promised Land. Up went a mighty cheer from a thousand
throats, ringing almost against the vault of the burnished heaven,
and echoing far and wide among the threatening Boer-haunted[Pg 37]
kopjes! Kimberley was on the eve of relief. The trial, the trouble,
the turmoil were over! The triumph was won! On went the
Division, riding now with all their might, and at sight of them the
enemy, hot-foot, commenced to gallop into space. Soon the Division
was within sight of the suburbs, and their guns were addressing
themselves to a Boer laager on the east of the town. The extra
uproar struck fresh alarm in the people of Kimberley, who had
been driven distraught by the Boer’s 100-pounders, and a message
was flashed out, “The Boers are shelling the town.” Then came
the answer—the glorious answer—“It is General French coming to
the relief of Kimberley.” The news to the imprisoned multitude
seemed incredible. They dreaded lest it might be a new wile of
the Dutchman, and, to make assurance doubly sure, flashed out a
fresh query. But by sunset the British troops had appeared: the
whole force, battered, bronzed, but jubilant, was galloping into
Beaconsfield.

STRATEGY VERSUS TACTICS

Some one has said that strategy is a permanent science whose
principles are immutable, while tactics vary with the variations of
weapons and modes of warfare. The first example of this permanent
science was presented only when Lord Roberts came to
South Africa, but so complete and skilful, and withal so subtle, was
the initial demonstration, that its fruits within ten days of his arrival
at the front were ready to drop to his hand. Looking back, the
plan of Lord Roberts’ operations appears simple in the extreme, but
at the time only masterly conception and accuracy of execution could
have ensured success for so complicated a programme. To appreciate
its subtlety and its neat execution, it becomes necessary to
follow the other portions of the programme, beginning from the
entry into the Free State of the enormous army that was massed on
its borders by Monday the 12th. On that day three divisions of
infantry, the 6th, 7th, and 9th, General French’s division, two
brigades of mounted infantry under Colonels Hannay and Ridley
respectively, the artillery under General Marshall, consisting of
three brigade divisions of horse-artillery, two brigade divisions of
field-artillery, one howitzer battery, and a Naval Contingent of
four 4.7-inch and four 12-pounders, marched from Graspan and
Honeynest Kloof through Ramdam. The total field force
amounted to 23,000 infantry and 11,000 mounted men, with 98
guns, and a transport of over 700 waggons drawn by nearly 9000
mules and oxen. Later on the artillery was reinforced by the
arrival of a battery of 6-inch howitzers, throwing 100-lb. shells, and
three Vickers-Maxim quick-firers and the Brigade of Guards, which
had remained opposite the Boer trenches at Majersfontein.[Pg 38]

The following table serves to show roughly the disposition of
the troops:—

FIELD-MARSHAL LORD ROBERTS’ FORCE

First Division.—(Lieutenant-General Lord Methuen).—1st (Pole-Carew’s)
Brigade—3rd Grenadier Guards; 1st Coldstream Guards; 2nd Coldstream
Guards; 1st Scots Guards. 9th (Douglas’s) Brigade—1st Northumberland
Fusiliers; 1st Loyal North Lancashire (half); 2nd Northamptonshire; 2nd
Yorkshire Light Infantry; 18th, 62nd, 75th Field Batteries.

Sixth Division.—(Lieutenant-General Kelly-Kenny).—12th Brigade—2nd
Worcestershire, 1st Royal Irish, 2nd Bedfordshire, 2nd Wiltshire (half battalions).
13th Brigade (Knox’s)—2nd East Kent; 1st Oxfordshire Light
Infantry; 1st West Riding; 2nd Gloucester; 76th, 81st, and 82nd Field
Batteries; 38th Company Royal Engineers.

Seventh Division.—(Lieutenant-General Tucker).—14th Brigade—2nd
Norfolk; 2nd Lincoln; 1st King’s Own Scottish Borderers; 2nd Hants. 15th
Brigade—2nd Cheshire; 1st East Lancashire; 2nd South Wales Borderers;
2nd North Stafford; 83rd, 84th, and 85th Field Batteries; 9th Company Royal
Engineers.

Ninth Division.—(Major-General Sir H. Colvile).—3rd (Highland) Brigade
(MacDonald’s)—1st Argyll and Sutherland; 1st Highland Light Infantry; 2nd
Seaforth Highlanders; 2nd Royal Highlanders (Black Watch). 18th Brigade—1st
Essex; 1st Yorkshire; 1st Welsh; 2nd Royal Warwick.

Cavalry Division.—(Major-General (Local Lieutenant-General) French).—1st
Brigade (Broadwood)—10th Hussars; 12th Lancers; Household Cavalry.
2nd Brigade (Porter)—6th Dragoon Guards; 6th Dragoons (two squadrons);
2nd Dragoons; New Zealanders; Australians. 3rd Brigade (Gordon)—9th
Lancers; 16th Lancers; Horse Artillery; G, P, O, R, Q, T, U Batteries.

Troops with Lord Roberts.—Gordon Highlanders; 2nd Duke of Cornwall’s
Light Infantry; 2nd Shropshire Light Infantry; Canadian Regiment;
Roberts’ Horse; Kitchener’s Horse; City of London Imperial Volunteers
(Mounted Infantry Company); 2nd, 38th, 39th, 44th, and 88th Field Batteries;
A Battery R.H.A.; 37th and 65th Howitzer Batteries; three Naval 4.7-in. guns;
part of Siege Train.

It will be seen by the above that General Colvile had been
appointed to the command of the Ninth Division, while Colonel
Pole-Carew was transferred from the command of the Ninth Brigade
to that of the Guards Brigade, and was succeeded in the former post
by Colonel Douglas, late Chief of the Staff to Lord Methuen.

Having viewed this force, it becomes somewhat interesting to
note how smoothly wheel turned within wheel. The movement
began by the concentration of General French’s division at Ramdam.
On the morning of the 12th the infantry appeared, and General
French moved on, crossed Dekiel’s Drift on Tuesday the 13th, and
captured Klip Drift and Drieput Drift, on the Modder River. Following
him closely on the 12th came the divisions of General Tucker and
General Kelly-Kenny. The latter division was accompanied by Lord
Kitchener and his staff. The negotiation of the first drift, which was[Pg 39]
almost impassable for transport, next occupied the ingenuity and tested
the perseverance of the troops. The drifts, like the kopjes, are the
almost unconquerable bogies of South Africa. They are the natural
defences of the country, offering obstruction on every hand, and,
however boldly you may storm the kopje, you must with infinite
patience negotiate the drift. This is no small undertaking, for drifts,
in a way, partake of the paradoxical character of individuals—the
weaker the person, the more difficult is he to manage; the more insignificant
the river, the greater the perverseness of the drift. It
resolves itself in both cases into a question of narrowness. Small
streams and small minds are banked up too high to allow moving
room in their midst. The result of an attempt to advance is congestion
of a painful kind. At this particular drift it was found impossible
for the team of mules to lug the formidable waggon-loads up the
north bank, and at last the feat had to be accomplished by adding
relays of oxen to assist in the tremendous labour. Finally, by 4 A.M.
the next morning the troops got across, General Tucker’s division
marching to within some three miles of Jacobsdal, and hugging
the river all the way, so as to run no risk of being without water.
General Kelly-Kenny followed, marching from Waterval Drift to
Wegdraai on the morning of the 14th, and proceeding thence at
5 P.M. on the same day to Klip Drift, which was reached in the
middle of the night. The rapidity with which this rush on his heels
was accomplished enabled General French, who had been awaiting
the arrival of the infantry, to proceed on his flying swoop for the
relief of Kimberley. This, as we know, was accomplished on
Thursday the 15th of February. Meanwhile the wheels of the
strategic machinery were going round. A small cavalry patrol had
entered Jacobsdal, which town was found to be full of wounded, including
many of our own invalids from Rensburg. On the way back
the mounted infantry were attacked, and Colonel Henry was fired
on by a party of Dutchmen who were concealed in the vicinity of
the river, and so sudden was the attack that nine men were wounded.
Colonel Henry, Major Hatchell, and ten men were missing. A
battery of artillery shelled the environs of the place, and put to flight
such Boers as were hanging about, whereupon the British remained
masters of the situation. Thus it will be seen that while the Dutchmen
were fleeing from Jacobsdal, from Alexandersfontein, and from
the neighbourhood of Kimberley, for fear of being cut off, they had
surrounding them Lord Methuen at Majersfontein, General Tucker
at Jacobsdal, General Kelly-Kenny at the Klip and Rondeval Drifts,
General French on the north, and General Colvile wheeling around,
ready to suit his movements to any emergency. In this manner
Cronje found the teeth of a trap preparing to close on him, and
recognised that there was no alternative but to “make a bolt for it.[Pg 40]”

Thus the first part of the programme was accomplished. Kimberley
was automatically relieved; Cronje was on the run. But his
running was no easy matter. Since Lord Roberts’ strategy had
come into play, there was a prospect of a neck-and-neck race between
the mobile Boer and the mobile Briton, and success depended on
General French’s ability not only to rout but to head off the retreat
of the Dutchman. That the British cavalry commander should outmatch
him in celerity was a contingency which had not occurred to
Cronje; that he should advance independently of the rail, and start
off across the Riet to trek to the Modder, was described by one of
his countrymen as distinctly “un-British.” Whether this epithet
was used to denote admiration or contempt we cannot say. Certain
it was that the wily persecutor of Mafeking and Kimberley thought
that the secret of the art of trekking was confined to himself and
his rabble, until he discovered, too late, that the equally wily French
with his disciplined legions was ready to ride over him. On the
16th of February the astonished commandant, with a horde of 10,000
Boers, was scudding in full retreat towards Bloemfontein. On all
sides were Boer laagers in a state of abandonment—stores, tents,
food, Bibles, raiment—everything had been left by the amazed
and panic-stricken Dutchmen. Dronfield, Saltpan, Scholtz Nek,
and Spyfontein were now evacuated. Under cover of darkness
the investing hordes had taken to their heels, leaving behind them
even herds of cattle and ammunition, in their desire to gain a loophole
of escape. But they soon found that, wherever they might go,
there was the rumour of British opposition, an armed and avenging
race advancing!

The fact was that the trekking of the Boer hordes had been
adroitly discovered by Lord Kitchener, who, having detected an
unusual haze of dust in the distance, at once gave orders for the
mounted infantry not to follow French, but to pursue the enemy.
Accordingly, to quote the Times correspondent, who was present:—

“The mounted infantry rode in pursuit across the plain, endeavouring
to get to the north of the convoy, while General Knox’s
Brigade was pushed along the north bank of the river, which makes
a large bend to the north between Klip Drift and Klipkraal Drift,
to strike the convoy on its southern flank. Cronje sent on his
waggons to Drieputs Farm, at the north-eastern end of the bend,
where they laagered at about eleven, and maintained a running
fight with our troops all day. The skill with which the Boers
conducted this rear-guard action extorted unqualified praise from all
our officers. As the detachments on the extreme right of the Boer
line were driven back by our mounted infantry, they rode round
behind their centre and took up fresh positions on their left against
the 81st Battery and Knox’s Brigade, which were advancing along[Pg 41]
the north bank of the river. At midday the Boers attempted to
hold three low kopjes two miles north-east of Klip Drift, but were
driven back to a stronger position at Drieputs.”

CAPTURE OF A BOER CONVOY BY GENERAL FRENCH’S TROOPS NEAR KIMBERLEY.

Drawing by Stanley L. Wood, from a Sketch by an Officer.

Fighting went on throughout the day. At seven o’clock on the
evening of the 16th it became almost possible to see the end; the
artillery had commenced the vigorous shelling of the laager, and all
the divisions moving on the great axis were now aware that Lord
Roberts’ strategic plan was likely—how soon they knew not—to be
crowned with success.

But we must here break off to eulogise the wonderful activity of
Kelly-Kenny’s division, which acquitted itself so honourably. The
march from Graspan to Brandvallei beyond Klip Drift, a distance
55¾ miles, was accomplished in five marching days. The Light
Brigade on the eve of the battle of Talavera did sixty-two English
miles in twenty-six hours, losing only seventeen stragglers by the way.
They accomplished this feat by adopting the peculiar step invented
by Sir John Moore, three paces walking alternating with three paces
running, which enabled them, when tracks were suitable, to cover
six miles an hour! No such evolutions as these were possible, owing
to the torrid weather and the necessity to take precautions against
exposure in the open veldt during midday. The temperature may
be imagined when it is stated that in one day about sixty-six soldiers
sun-stricken fell out of the ranks. On the morning of the 12th
of February the infantry marched some nine and a half miles from
Graspan to Ramdam, and from thence on the 13th moved to
Waterval Drift. On the 14th they proceeded to Wegdraai, and on
to Klip Drift, which was reached in the small hours of the 15th.
Here, notwithstanding their fatigues, the 13th Brigade at once
engaged with the enemy’s rearguard, and exhibited splendid fighting
qualities, which in the circumstances were remarkable even for
Englishmen. The West Riding, Gloucesters, Buffs, and Oxfords
had a warm time during the whole of the 16th, as the enemy from
kopjes beyond the river in the region of Klipkraal assailed them
for nearly eight hours, assisted by a pom-pom which caused considerable
loss. Though a furious sandstorm later on permitted the
Boers under cover of night to get away, abandoning seventy-eight
waggons, the next morning the invincible Sixth Division started in
pursuit. Captain Trevor (1st East Kent Regiment), Lieutenant Shipway
(2nd Gloucester Regiment), and Colonel M’Donnell, R.A., were
wounded in the course of the engagement. Major Evelegh, Oxford
Light Infantry, while proceeding to join his battalion in the Sixth
Division with a small convoy and escort, was surrounded by a large
party of Boers, and after a gallant defence was forced to surrender.

Fighting and marching without ceasing, the infantry went to
Brandvallei and thence to Paardeberg, where they arrived at[Pg 42]
9.30 P.M. on the 17th, in time to take a brief rest prior to the
operations which have yet to be described, and in which they took
such a prominent part. The marching, considering the tremendous
heat and the difficulty of obtaining water, was a feat of which
General Kelly-Kenny might justly have felt proud. Though plodding
along incessantly through the heavy burning sand under a
sun which baked and frizzled even through their uniforms, these
men maintained patience and cheerfulness in a rare degree. The
whole force was animated by complete faith in their commander,
and moved unanimously like some magnificent piece of machinery,
scarce taking time to eat or sleep in the zest of their persistent
pursuit of the enemy. And they were not alone in their zealous
performance of their share in the great scheme. The nicety and
precision of the transport arrangements may be imagined when
we remember that at one time four divisions were moving independently
of their base, making marches across the arid waterless
tracks, and carrying with them the necessaries of life for a healthy
working multitude. A new regime had begun, and the mobility of
our columns had grown equal to that of the Boers, while the railway
had been relegated to a subordinate place in the strategical plan.

Colonel Graham, in his “Art of War,” declares that “to organise
the means of transport for an army acting at a long distance from
its principal magazines, in a country where it is entirely dependent
on its own supplies, is a problem difficult of solution.” Now,
the solution of this problem was due to the wonderful talent of
Lord Kitchener, who was earning his right to be looked upon as
the greatest military organiser of his generation. But his gigantic
effort did not increase the popularity of the late Sirdar. He ran
counter to too many private interests. The army is too intersected
with grooves to be crossed without a few nasty jars, and it was
scarcely possible for so young and successful a general and a peer—one
possessed of almost criminal good luck and amazing moral as
well as physical courage—to be looked upon by his contemporaries-in-arms
with excessive approval. The secret of discord was given
in a nutshell by Mr. Ralph of the Daily Mail. He wrote:—“His
first conspicuous act when in South Africa was the withdrawal of
the transport service from separated commands in order that it
should be managed by the Army Service Corps. Thus it came
about that every brigadier and colonel saw a certain amount of his
power shifted to what he considered a subordinate branch of the
service. A goodish degree of latitude in the enjoyment of comforts
and extras, which had been made possible when these officers controlled
the waggons, was also curtailed. The army wailed and
gnashed its teeth, but I confess I always thought that reason and
right were on Lord Kitchener’s side in this matter. Lord Kitchener’s[Pg 43]
plan was the only one by which an insufficient number of waggons
and teams could be utilised for all that they were worth.”

The mobility of an army depends on the reduction of transport,
and to the task of organising transport sufficient to ensure the
mobility of 100,000 men the hero of Omdurman applied himself
with his customary thoroughness. He conceived the gigantic ambition
of doing away with all distinctions of transport, regimental,
departmental, ammunition, or ambulance, and merging them in an immense
whole, thus creating a single general corps, and it was doubtless
to this conception and the able way that the scheme—with the assistance
of Colonel Richardson—was carried out, that Lord Roberts
owed the expedition of his march to Bloemfontein and the further success
which resulted from his sure and swift rushes onward. Ordinarily
speaking, in the army each unit is allowed its own transport. For instance,
colonel, adjutant, and orderly-room are allotted by regulation
a tent apiece. Every three officers share a tent, every fourteen men
another. Staff-sergeants, batmen, and other details are proportionately
provided for. Mounted officers are allowed 80 lbs. baggage,
double the amount allowed for “smaller fry.” Without going
into minute particulars, we may reckon that a brigade would move
with 70 waggons and a division with about 180. To reduce the
huge encumbrance of say some 2000 waggons, with their complement
of oxen and drivers, was a stupendous labour, from which, with its
consequences, this military Hercules did not shrink. Each unit
was taken in hand, and its excrescences—regulation excrescences, we
may call them—were cut down, peeled of all superfluities, much to
the disgust of the staff officers and various other personages who
stickle for their rights, and resent any innovation that threatens to
dock off an iota of the creature comforts that belong to them by the
divine right of red-tape and red-book regulations.

Not only were the rules of transport revised, but special hints
tending to the development of the initiative of the private soldier
were issued to the troops. Herewith is appended the notable document
which may be said to have marked the beginning of the new
era:—

Cape Town, February 5, 1900.

The following notes by the Field-Marshal Commanding-in-Chief are communicated
for the guidance of all concerned.—By order,

Kitchener of Khartoum, Chief of Staff.

Notes for Guidance in South African Warfare

Cavalry

1. On reconnaissances or patrols not likely to be prolonged beyond one
day, the cavalry soldier’s equipment should be lightened as much as possible,
nothing being taken that can possibly be dispensed with.[Pg 44]

2. It has been brought to my notice that our cavalry move too slowly when
on reconnaissance duty, and that unnecessary long halts are made, the result
being that the enemy, although starting after the cavalry, are able to get ahead
of it. I could understand this if the country were close and difficult, but between
the Modder and the Orange Rivers its general features are such as to
admit of small parties of cavalry, accompanied by field-guns, being employed
with impunity.

Artillery

3. If the enemy’s guns have, in some instances, the advantage of ours
in range, we have the advantage of theirs in mobility, and we should make
use of them by not remaining in position the precise distance of which from
the enemy’s batteries has evidently been fixed beforehand. Moreover, it has
been proved that the Boers’ fire is far less accurate at unknown distances. In
taking up positions, compact battery formations should be avoided, the guns
should be opened out, or it may be desirable to advance by sections or batteries.
Similarly retirements should be carried out, at considerably increased intervals,
by alternate batteries or sections, if necessary, and care should be taken to
travel quickly through the dangerous zone of hostile artillery fire.

The following plan, frequently adopted by the Boers, has succeeded in
deceiving our artillery on several occasions.

Suppose A to be a gun emplacement, the gun firing smokeless powder.
Simultaneously with the discharge of the gun at A a powder flash of black
powder will be exploded at B, a hill in rear, leading us to direct our projectile
on B. Careful calculation with a watch, however, will defeat this plan.

Infantry

4. The present open formation renders it difficult for officers to exercise
command over their men, except such as may be in their immediate vicinity.
A remedy for this would appear to be a system of whistle calls, by which a
company lying in extended order could obey orders as readily as if in quarter
column. I invite suggestions for such a system of whistle calls as would be
useful.

5. It is difficult to recognise officers as equipped at present, and it seems
desirable they should wear a distinguishing mark of some kind, either on the
collar at the back of the neck or on the back of the coat.

6. Soldiers, when under fire, do not take sufficient advantage of the sandy
nature of the soil to construct cover for themselves. If such soil is scraped,
even with a canteen tin, a certain amount of cover from rifle fire can be obtained
in a short time.

7. The distribution of ammunition to the firing line is one of the most
difficult problems of modern warfare. One solution, which has been suggested
to me, is for a portion of the supports gradually to creep forward until a regular
chain of men is established from the supports (where the ammunition carts
should be) right up to the firing line. The ammunition could then be gradually
worked up by hand till it reached the firing line, where it could be passed along
as required. This would, no doubt, be a slow method of distributing ammunition,
but it appears to be an improvement on the present method, which is
almost impossible to carry out under fire.

8. Reports received suggest that the Boers are less likely to hold entrenchments
on the plain with the same tenacity and courage as they display when
defending kopjes, and it is stated that this applies especially to night-time, if[Pg 45]
they know that British infantry are within easy striking distance from them.
How far this is true time only can show.

Roberts, Field-Marshal Commanding-in-Chief, South Africa.

To return, however, to the great advance. Much of the travelling
was done by night, in order to save the oxen from the trying
temperature of the day, though even during the night the heat was
equal to that of an ordinary British midsummer. In addition to the
painful toil of motion over the heavy, sandy, rugged leagues, there
was the hourly danger of attack. Cronje had made known his need
for reinforcements, and at the time, from the south, Andries Cronje
was moving, and from the north, Commandants Snyman and Fournie,
while from other quarters and in the direction of Ladysmith there was
the belief that Boer hordes might be advancing. There was only
one encounter with the Dutchmen, but it ended in a mishap that was
a serious one, for the results were felt for days afterwards, and
helped to try the heroism of the troops who engaged in the movement
to the uttermost. A convoy of 180 waggons, one-quarter of
the total transport, containing forage and provisions, was lost at
Waterval Drift. An interesting picture of the terrible passage of
the drift was given by a sapper who accompanied the convoy:—

“It was a pitiful sight to see the poor infantry fellows played
out, some dropping with a slight sunstroke, and the cattle dropping
dead in all directions. We moved sometimes by day and sometimes
by night. Night-time was the best on account of the oxen working
much better in the cool of night. Nothing occurred of note with us—but
our fellows were fighting every day in front on their way to
Kimberley—till we got to Riet River or Drift, which was a terrible
pass in the river. Miles and miles of transport had to pass through
a narrow passage across the drift, and it took a terrible time for one
waggon to pass over, let alone the hundreds that had to pass. We
were lucky to get across and encamp below a hill for the night.
Next day they still continued to pass the drift, in fact they had been
at it all night, and still hundreds of waggons to come on. The Boers
evidently knew of this obstacle, and a party came up from the south
and had vengeance on the column, as they couldn’t on the fighting
line. It was a lucky thing for us we were clear, or else we might
have found our baggage gone and ourselves put over the border (i.e.
sent to Pretoria or shot). The Boers took up position in the hills
and shelled the waggon convoy. The nigger drivers are terrible
cowards, and all fled to the hills or kopjes near at hand, leaving the
waggons and oxen to the mercy of the Boers. Some of the oxen
we succeeded in driving back into our camp on the other side of the
river. The good old New Zealanders (who have proved of great
use and very daring in this campaign) rode over to where the nigger[Pg 46]
drivers were, and threatened to blow their brains out if they didn’t
return to the waggons, which they did after the Boers had left off
shelling for a bit, after doing a terrible lot of damage. Lord Bobs
came up just as they were going to try and get some of the
waggons away, and said ‘Let them go.’ Our loss proved to be
over £100,000, which I am glad to say we recovered later. The
Boers thought this convoy was lost purposely, and when we arrived
here we found the whole of it except what had been sent to our
prisoners at Pretoria.”

Troop of the 10th Hussars with Nordenfeldt Gun.

Photo by H. Johnston, London.

The unpleasant adventures of E Squadron of Kitchener’s Light
Horse, who were taken as prisoners to Pretoria, make a separate
narrative of themselves, as they took place while the main body
was moving on to the relief of Kimberley.

The squadron was attached to General French’s column, and
took part in the engagement at Riet River. On its way to the
relief of Kimberley, a halt was made at a farm a short distance from
Modder River, and part of E squadron was detached to hold a well
of water until the arrival of another column, expected in four
hours, and then to advance along with them. The relieving column
never arrived. Squadron E held the position for four days without[Pg 47]
food against a large force of Boers. They (E Squadron) occupied
an old farmhouse. They loopholed the walls, and although continuously
harassed by the Boer fire, they managed to maintain their
position and the post they were placed in charge of. During that
time they had to subsist on water only, and that brackish. Their
horses were dying daily, as there was not a blade of grass on the
veldt, and the stench was abominable. On the third day of the
siege a poor goat that had wandered near the besieged was immediately
captured and devoured. On the fourth day they commandeered
one of the enemy’s horses, which they intended to
slaughter, their own being too emaciated for that purpose. But
the Boers, having been reinforced, gave them no time to do the
butchering. On the evening of the fourth day a messenger bearing
a letter from General de Wet arrived, demanding surrender within
ten minutes. The Boer force consisted of 500 men and two
12-pounders. The officers consulted together, and decided, in
view of the hopeless condition of their little garrison of fifty all
told, worn out and starving and their horses dead, to accept the
inevitable.

While all this was going on, and Cronje was making the discovery
that he might be completely outflanked, and that the
position of the Boer army at Spyfontein must become untenable,
Lord Roberts was entering into Jacobsdal. The place was orderly
and quiet. The three churches were full of patients, the town having
been used mainly as an hospital. The invalids, for the most part,
were sufferers from enteric, the result of too much Modder River.
After a long and painful intimacy with the grilling veldt, the sight
of houses and civilised dwellings struck gratefully on the eyes of
the incoming troops. A store was hailed as a veritable godsend.
Some one bought a tin of oatmeal, and walked off with it as one
who had secured a prize; some one else gave a goodly price for
a pot of pickles, and came away licking his lips like a modern
Eliogabalus. The rejoicing was no mean emotion, for the unfortunate
men, with the appetites of athletes, had been existing on
lovers’ fare. One of the famished but cheery fellows wrote: “We
marched into Jacobsdal, and as soon as we arrived we thronged
the stores for provisions. I made the following purchases for three
of us:—

[Pg 48]

Then we gorged ourselves to make up for three weeks’ semi-starvation.
The most prominent building of Jacobsdal is the church,
which stands in the centre of the town. The town itself lies in a
hollow—Sleepy Hollow would be an apt title for the place just now.
Most of the houses, including the church, are at present converted
into hospitals, and the female population are acting as nurses. Most
of them are in mourning for relatives lost during the campaign.”
Later, the troops moved on and encamped at a farm which had
also been used as an hospital. Sights pathetic were only too common—our
own sick and wounded in various stages of suffering,
and outside, to use a “Tommy’s” description, “some poor devils
wrapped in sheets ready to be put to bed for the last time!”

GENERAL CRONJE.

From a Photo by M. Plumbe.

Lord Roberts visited the large German hospital, and expressed
himself well pleased with the splendid cleanliness of the place and
the general evidences of good management. Among the sufferers
was found Colonel Henry, who had been taken prisoner on the 14th.
Strangely enough, all the inhabitants of the place evinced satisfaction
at the arrival of the British, particularly on making the discovery
that it was not the habit of the British troops to loot and
destroy, as they had been led by the Burghers to believe was the
case. They were now made acquainted with the proclamation which
Lord Roberts issued to the Burghers of the Orange Free State
when his force invaded their territory. It was printed both in
English and Dutch:—

“The British troops under my command having entered the Orange Free
State, I feel it my duty to make known to all Burghers the cause of our coming,
as well as to do all in my power to put an end to the devastation caused by
this war, so that, should they continue the war, the inhabitants of the Orange
Free State may not do so ignorantly, but with full knowledge of their responsibility
before God for the lives lost in the campaign.

“Before the war began the British Government, which had always desired
and cultivated peace and friendship with the people of the Orange Free State,
gave a solemn assurance to President Steyn that, if the Orange Free State
remained neutral, its territory would not be invaded, and its independence
would be at all times fully respected by Her Majesty’s Government.

“In spite of that declaration, the Government of the Orange Free State
was guilty of a wanton and unjustifiable invasion of British territory.

“The British Government believes that this act of aggression was not committed
with the general approval and free will of a people with whom it has
lived in complete amity for so many years. It believes that the responsibility
rests wholly with the Government of the Orange Free State, acting, not in the
interests of the country, but under mischievous influences from without. The
British Government, therefore, wishes the people of the Orange Free State to
understand that it bears them no ill-will, and, so far as is compatible with the
successful conduct of the war and the re-establishment of peace in South
Africa, it is anxious to preserve them from the evils brought upon them by the
wrongful action of their Government.

“I therefore warn all Burghers to desist from any further hostility towards[Pg 49]
Her Majesty’s Government and the troops under my command, and I undertake
that any of them who may so desist, and who are found staying in their homes
and quietly pursuing their ordinary occupations, will not be made to suffer in
their persons or property on account of their having taken up arms in obedience
to the order of their Government. Those, however, who oppose the forces
under my command, or furnish the enemy with supplies or information, will be
dealt with according to the customs of war.

“Requisitions for food, forage, fuel, or shelter made on the authority of the
officers in command of Her Majesty’s troops, must be at once complied with;
but everything will be paid for on the spot, prices being regulated by the local
market rates. If the inhabitants of any district refuse to comply with the
demands made on them, the supplies will be taken by force, a full receipt being
given.

“Should any inhabitant of the country consider that he or any member of
his household has been unjustly treated by any officer, soldier, or civilian
attached to the British army, he should submit his complaint, either personally
or in writing, to my headquarters or to the headquarters of the nearest general
officer. Should the complaint on inquiry be substantiated, redress will
be given.

“Orders have been issued by me prohibiting soldiers from entering private
houses or molesting the civil population on any pretext whatever, and every
precaution has been taken against injury to property on the part of any person
belonging to or connected with the army.

“Roberts, Field-Marshal, Commanding-in-Chief, South Africa.”

THE HERDING OF CRONJE

To return to General French. The cavalry division bivouacked
outside the town of Kimberley, but their repose was limited. At
3 A.M. on the morning of the 16th they were up and doing. The
enemy in the north was giving trouble. Some sharp fighting took
place, during which Lieutenants Brassey (9th Lancers) and P. Bunbury
were killed. This early activity was tough work for the already
weary troops, who had been fifteen hours without a meal. Indeed,
it was generally remarked that the relievers looked sorrier specimens
of humanity than the relieved. The Colonial troops, the Queensland
and New Zealand Contingents, and the New South Wales
Lancers, considering all things, were wonderfully fit after having
played a conspicuous part in the operations. These troops had
joined General French’s column from the regions of the Orange and
Modder Rivers. The New South Wales Lancers rode on the
extreme right flank of the first brigade, and their ambulance corps,
under Lieutenant Edwards, kept up with the column, and was
complimented on being the first ambulance to cross the Modder
River. Like the rest of the troops, they had taken their share of
small rations, merely nominal rest, sun-scorching, and maddening
thirst, and yet were full of zeal—“keen as mustard,” as some one
said—to engage in the herding of Cronje and effect his capture.[Pg 50]
Worn out as they were, they had sprung to attention on a rumour
brought in by a despatch-rider to the effect that Cronje had evacuated
Majersfontein and was in full retreat.

At midnight on the 16th, no confirmation of this news had been
received. The jaded troops, and still more jaded horses—mere
skeletons in horse’s skins—were preparing for real repose, when all
was changed! A telegram arrived from Lord Kitchener saying
that Cronje, with 10,000 men, was in full retreat from Majersfontein,
with all his waggons and equipment and four guns, along the
north bank of the Modder River towards Bloemfontein; that he had
already fought a rearguard action with him; and that if French, with
all available horses and guns, could head him and prevent his
crossing the river, the infantry from Klip Drift would press on
and annihilate or take the whole force prisoners.

Here was a surprise! Pleasant yet unpleasant, for shattered
men in the last stage of fatigue. But General French—whom
some one has described as possessing the shape of a brick, with all
the solid and excellent qualities of one—rose to the occasion. He
was on the point of going to sleep, but there was no thought of
rest now. Arrangements had to be made, horses weeded—out of a
division of 5000 only one brigade was fit to move!—more borrowed
from the Kimberley Light Horse, whose holiday-time had come, and
other preparations hurriedly set on foot to ensure an immediate rush—a
swoop that should be as swift and successful as it was startling!

One may imagine the midnight picture. The dark immensity of
veldt—the dust-driven, sweltering veldt—and Cronje, miles ahead
with his horde, the remnant of his convoy, his women and children,
fleeing along the north bank of the Modder, harassed by the
Sixth Division, threatened by the Seventh and Ninth, and yet
longing to cross the river, to get safely to Koodoosrand Drift,
where he hourly expected reinforcements would come to his succour.
French, dead beat after glorious work accomplished, rising from
the first hospitable pillow he had seen for days—springing suddenly
to action, ordering, organising, deciding how to effect the great
swoop on Koodoosrand Drift and head off the fugitive. There was
no time for the buckling on of mental and moral armour; only the
warrior at soul could have been ready for such a situation. But
such an one was here. He gave swift orders. In three hours’ time
General Broadwood and his brigade and three batteries of artillery—the
only ones available out of seven—sallied forth towards the
east, in the dusk of the morning. Their destination—Koodoosrand
Drift—was some forty miles off, and once here Cronje’s last loophole
of escape would be gone! The General and his staff followed
at 4.15 A.M., riding at full speed, and catching up the brigade about
fifteen miles off.[Pg 51]

The whole nature of their errand and the proposed movement
was a surprise, for this manœuvre had not entered into General
French’s original calculations.

When the General had seen the Sixth Division safely at Klip
Drift and secured his left flank, he proceeded on his rush to
Kimberley. Of other movements save his own he was ignorant.
Even as he and the troops were riding into the town, Cronje,
who had discovered the futility of his position at Majersfontein
and the danger of it, was trekking madly across the front of
the Sixth Division. On the morning of the 16th Lord Kitchener,
hearing that the Majersfontein laager and the Modder River camp
were deserted, and seeing a cloud of dust in the distance, had
guessed what was happening, and immediately altered his plans
to meet the emergency. As we are aware, he instantly gave
orders for the mounted infantry not to follow French, but to
pursue and attack the Boer convoy, while he telegraphed later
to French, with the results just described. General French grasped
the position at a glance. He knew no time was to be lost,
and soon Broadwood’s brigade, with horses that could barely
move, was pushing on as fast as spurs could insist. The early
morning dusk broke into the green and grey and gold of dawn;
birds flew frightened hither and thither; foxes rushed to their holes;
springbok and hares tempted the sportsmen, but never a glance to
right or left was wasted. All eyes were strained to the east, to the
momentous east, and the wooded banks of the distant river. Nearer
and ever nearer they came—specks were seen on the horizon—men?—horses?—the
enemy moving?—scudding away before he could be
cornered? No—Yes? A moment of excitement, anguish—joy! The
General had mounted a kopje, reconnoitred, and discovered the
truth. It was Cronje’s force—the remnants of his convoy some
4000 yards off—the convoy streaming down into the drifts that lead
to Petrusberg and thence to Bloemfontein! They must never
reach that destination! Kitchener’s words—“Head him and prevent
his crossing the river”—so simple in sound, so complex in
execution, thrilled every heart. Quickly the guns were got into
action—grandly—almost magically—the first shot plumped—bang!
in front of the leading waggon just as the convoy was preparing
to descend the drift! What a reveillé! Cronje, as we know, was
rushing from the clutches of the Sixth Division at Drieputs. Breathless,
he gathered himself together. Suddenly he found himself
assailed by a new force—a new terror! He divined in a moment
what had happened. It was French, the ubiquitous French—French
redivivus, as it were—who was putting the finishing touch to the
chapter of disaster. Poor Captain Boyle, in his letter to the Nineteenth
Century, thus described the great Dutchman’s plight:[Pg 52]—

“His only chance now was to sacrifice his guns and convoy, and
cut his way across the river under the heavy fire of our guns.
Immediately on the first shell bursting in the laager, about thirty
Boers galloped out to seize a kopje on our right, afterwards called
Roberts’ Hill; but the 10th Hussars in a neck-and-neck race had
the legs of them, and seizing the hill in advance, beat them off with
their carbine and Maxim fire. The Boers from their laager answered
our shell fire for a short time with great accuracy from two or three
guns. But these were quickly silenced, and shell after shell from
Artillery Hill fell plump into the laager. Finally, our second battery
was moved to a little distance from Roberts’ Hill and opened fire
from the southern slope on to a kopje to which the Boers had retired.
All that afternoon at intervals our guns poured shells into the laager,
but no response came, and we spent our time watching the Boers,
now 3000 yards away, entrenching themselves in the open and
along the river-bank. Their waggons caught fire and the ammunition
exploded, and as they realised their position more and more, so
must their hearts have sunk. Anxiously must they have waited for
the first sign of the infantry gathering round, as anxiously as we did
in our turn watching from the high kopjes.

“The cavalry, worn out as they were and without food, had to
hold the kopjes and water their horses in turn some five miles off.
They got what grazing they could in the kopjes as they lay there,
for no corn had come on from Kimberley, and neither men nor
horses had had any food except the three days’ rations with which
they originally started from Klip Drift the Thursday before, a good
deal of which had been shaken off the saddles or lost in the long
gallop up the plain to Kimberley. The General, the men, the
horses, all alike had to live on what was found at Kamilfontein—a
few mealies, a few onions, and the crumbs of biscuits in our pockets
were all we had until some Free Staters’ sheep and cattle were
rounded and killed. Had it not been for this plentiful supply of
meat, the men must have fared very badly for the next three days.
No transport came in until Monday night, and the horses had but
1½ lb. of corn in three days. The men were put on half rations of
biscuits even after the transport arrived.

“Meanwhile, on Saturday afternoon about 5 P.M. Broadwood sent
word to French that in the far distance he observed the dust rising,
which he took for Kelly-Kenny’s division. French returned to
Roberts’ Hill, and, until the sun set, anxiously awaited the arrival
of the infantry—but they marched but slowly. From 6 P.M. till
7 P.M. we opened fire again from our batteries to show Lord Kitchener
our exact positions.” The splendid work done by the Royal Horse
Artillery was described by another eye-witness. He said: “I will
give you an idea of what good gunners we have in the Artillery.[Pg 53]
General French said to one of the gunners, ‘See those three waggons
over there? (a distance of about 3½ miles); see what you can do with
them.’ The gunner fired three shell, and the waggons were no
more.”

We must now watch the progress of the other portions of the
force who were actively engaged in taking their share in the huge
undertaking. Colonel Stephenson’s brigade, on the night of the
16th (while General French was learning the great news), had
re-crossed the river at Klip Drift, and on the morning of the 17th
(at the same hour as Broadwood’s brigade was moving from Kimberley)
had marched to the south of the river with the same intention—that
of heading off Cronje at Paardeberg and Koodoosrand
Drift. Thus, with Broadwood’s brigade on one side, and Stephenson’s
on the other, Cronje’s prospects of escape were scarcely worth
a dime. The Times’ correspondent, talking of Colonel Stephenson’s
troops on the morning of the fateful 17th, said:—

“They were joined about ten at Klipkraal Drift by Knox’s
brigade, which marched along the northern bank. The mounted
infantry, pushing on, reached Paardeberg Drift that evening, and
encamped on rising ground close to the south bank. The infantry,
leaving Klipkraal at six in the evening, made a night march for
Paardeberg Drift, but, missing their way, slightly passed the Drift
and bivouacked on some rising ground nearly two miles beyond,
separated from the river by a smooth plain shelving gently down
to it. The mistake was a fortunate one, as it brought the infantry
almost opposite to the place where Cronje had determined to cross.
Cronje had left Drieputs during the night after the battle, abandoning
seventy-eight waggons, and pushed on along the north bank of
the river during Saturday for Koodoosrand Drift. Soon after passing
north of Paardeberg Drift he heard that French had already
returned from Kimberley, and was holding a line of high kopjes
running north-west from Koodoosrand Drift, and completely
commanding the drift. Wheeling his waggons to the right
across the plain, he laagered on the north bank of the river at
Wolveskraal Farm. This was opposite to a drift of the same name,
about half-way between Paardeberg and Koodoosrand Drifts, being
about four miles in a straight line from each. Here he intended to
cross on Sunday morning. But already, during the night, he became
aware of the presence of the mounted infantry south of Paardeberg
Drift, and decided that he could not get his convoy away without
fighting. Probably Cronje did not realise that Kelly-Kenny’s
infantry could have already marched up and occupied the rising
ground not three thousand yards south of Wolveskraal Drift; still
less could he know that General Colvile’s division (whose endurance
had been extraordinary) was but a few miles behind, and was[Pg 54]
to reach Paardeberg Drift before daybreak. If Cronje had known
this, there is little doubt that he would have promptly sacrificed all
his transport and all his guns in order to get his men away and
escape from the trap into which he was now caught. As it was,
he sent a great part of his force to line the river-bed all the way
down to Paardeberg Drift, in order to act as a rear-guard and check
any attempt to interfere with his crossing Wolveskraal Drift at his
leisure.”

Later on, the Ninth Division, with the Highland Brigade, who had
made a forced march from Jacobsdal, arrived on the scene just in time
to see the Boers sending up rockets to show their position to expected
reinforcements. And there is little doubt that Cronje, unable to
realise the expeditious advance of “lumbering Britons,” mistook
General Colvile’s troops for the longed-for relief.

Among the missing from near Paardeberg were Lieutenants
Romilly (Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry) and Metge (Welsh
Regiment), and Captains Arnold and Vaughan of Kitchener’s Horse.

Here we have the position of affairs as they stood on the night
of the 17th and on the morning of the 18th, when the trap so
ingeniously set for Cronje commenced to close little by little—north,
south, east, and west. Everywhere he turned the detestable rooineks
menaced him, and he who so lately had eaten his breakfast to the
tune of his 100-pounder gun, that belched ruin and mutilation over
the whole region of Kimberley, was now constrained to breakfast
to a new and disagreeable inversion of an identical melody!

THE BATTLE OF PAARDEBERG

On Sunday, the 18th of February, the most exciting action of the
war took place. It was costly as it was momentous, for it served to
decide the fate of the fleeing Dutchman. The scene of the drama was
not unpicturesque. From the Paardeberg to the Koodoosrand Drift
the Modder flowed along a deep hollow from thirty to a hundred
yards in depth. To either side the forks of small dongas radiated,
while the high banks were fringed with the feathery foliage of the
mimosa and willow. Donga and tree stump afforded excellent cover
for the slim adversary, sniper or scout. The river travelled from
Koodoosrand Drift west-south-west, deviating southwards on either
side of the Wolveskraal Drift. A vast expanse of veldt, some two
thousand yards wide, shelved down towards the south bank of the
river, fringed by higher ground; and this grassy plain extending
eastwards joined a circle of kopjes now known as Kitchener’s Hill.
On the opposite, the north bank of the river, was another similar
plain, dotted with minor kopjes to within a thousand yards of the
river, and beyond them was the higher hump of Paardeberg Hill.[Pg 55]

The action began at dawn. Firing grew hotter and hotter with
the growth of the morning, and soon pandemonium was let loose.
While part of the mounted infantry was forcing the rearguard up the
river another part was manœuvring on the right front and flank of
the enemy. The Dutchmen meanwhile from King’s Kop turned on
a quick-firing Hotchkiss gun, which swept the flat country from the
kop to the southern bank of the river. The antagonists had both
posted themselves on the north bank of the river—both banks of
which were level, and this expanse afforded no cover for movements.
Over this expanse the Ninth Brigade had to move, struggling
through a zone of fire towards the concealed enemy.

Cronje by this time had realised that his position was critical—almost
hopeless. Bringing his fine military qualities to bear on the
situation, he decided to make the best of a bad job, and entrench
himself with all the skill possible. He held about one square mile
of the river-bed on either side of Wolveskraal Drift, and beyond
that he knew were encircling kopjes, each one concealing its multitude
of rooineks. On the east, slowly creeping up, were the
menacing numbers of Tucker’s Division; on the west the vast crowds
of the mounted infantry and the Sixth Division; on the south were
field-guns little more than a mile off, threatening to shower destruction
from Gun Hill, while on the north were Naval guns and howitzers.
Indeed, everywhere was fate frowning, obdurate, vengeful. But the
Dutchman retained his pluck and his wits. He even believed that
with everything against him he might yet employ the same tactics
which had nonplussed Lord Methuen at Modder River. He still
retained a poor opinion of his adversary, and his delusion lent him
confidence. He hurriedly built trenches, that in themselves were
masterpieces of defensive art, and took up his headquarters in the
centre, in a red brick house—a species of travellers’ hostelry, which
may be found near all drifts in South Africa. Here at night Mrs.
Cronje joined him. During the day she was placed in the women’s
shelter at the east side of the area, which shelter was protected by
waggons and trenches all along the bed of the river. Talking of
these trenches, the correspondent of the Times declared that “the
skill with which they were constructed as defences against both rifle
and shell fire was worthy of the highest praise. All except those of
the outer lines of pickets were made so narrow and deep that it
seems as though they were in many cases entered from one end
rather than the top, as any such ingress must even in a week’s time
have considerably widened the neck of the excavation. At the top
they were perhaps eighteen inches wide, at the bottom about three
feet, and by crouching down the most complete protection was
afforded from bursting shell.

“Every natural protection, such as the ramifications of the dongas[Pg 56]
which eat into the banks on both sides of the river, had been utilised,
though the bombardment from both sides compelled them to abandon
their first hasty breastworks cut into the actual top of the bank,
which was here from about fifty to a hundred yards from the river
itself, and thirty feet in height.

“For the first time here the ‘T’ trenches, of which much has
been said during the present campaign, were used. They did not
seem to present the least advantage over the ordinary shapes, except
that in an exposed angle they may have provided additional protection
against an enfilading fire.”

Cronje’s first object in entrenching himself in the bed of the
river was to arrest the further advance of the mounted infantry, who
had taken possession of the bed of the river west of his position.
In this he was successful. Worn, harassed, and almost helpless, he
determined to make a desperate stand, hoping against hope to gain
time till some help from without should arrive. But this help never
reached him. A grand enveloping movement commenced, and
Cronje, brought to bay, found himself face to face with what proved
to be his Sedan.

By this time he and his followers were snugly ensconced in bush
and donga and scrub round the laager, and from the trees around
they vigorously sniped and poured volleys at the advancing troops.
In the advance to the attack the Highland Brigade was on the left,
General Knox’s brigade in the centre and on the right, while General
Smith Dorrien’s brigade, after crossing the river by Paardeberg Drift,
moved along the north bank. The Highland Brigade had a terrific
duty. The Boers, from their position in the bed of the river and
on both sides of it, commanded the left of the Brigade, and as
the kilted mass moved forward in the open poured upon them a
deadly fire, which forced them to lie prone for the rest of the day.
Here at noon, when bullets were humming their loudest, General
Hector Macdonald was wounded. He had dismounted, and was
directing the movements of the brigade, when overtaken by a shot
which penetrated thigh and foot. Despite this unlucky accident and
a tremendous spell of hard fighting, the brigade exhibited splendid
pluck and tenacity. They were destitute of cover, but maintained
their position with astonishing fortitude, and this after the long
forced march they had made from Jacobsdal, and while enduring
the tortures of maddening thirst, which could not be assuaged. A
heavy thunderstorm mercifully overtook them in the course of the
afternoon and raindrops large as gooseberries clattered down their
relieving moisture on the parched and exhausted troops.

On the north bank of the river was Cronje’s laager, an environment
of waggons, carts, ammunition, and stores. While General
Smith Dorrien’s force, among which were the Canadians, Gordons,[Pg 57]
and Shropshires, attempted to charge into the laager, they too
were vigorously shelled by the enemy, who, undefeatable, held on
valiantly to a kopje on the south bank of the river. Here they
posted a Vickers-Maxim and other deadly weapons, and in a
measure divided our force in two. The Seaforths and the Cornwall
Regiment made a splendid charge with the bayonet, and drove
the Boers from their cover round the drift, but in the glorious
rush both the Colonel and Adjutant of the Cornwalls were stricken
down. Ninety-six of the men were wounded, but they now held the
north-west side of the enemy’s position.

Plan of the Boer Laagers and Trenches and the British Positions at Paardeberg.

(By an Officer of the Royal Field Artillery.)

On the east the Sixth Division was hard at work tackling a
horde of Boers, who made a last despairing lunge in order to burst
through the entangling forces and push for the south bank of the
river. The effort was stubborn as it was desperate, but they were
defeated by the dash of the West Riding Regiment, who pressed
forward with the bayonet and succeeded in seizing the drift. Many
splendid fellows were wounded and slain in the collision. Meanwhile
the artillery continued to direct their incessant thunder against
the laager, pouring in a deluge of destruction from all quarters, and
forcing the Dutchmen to shrink within the space, little more than
a mile square, into which they had so hurriedly scrambled.[Pg 58]

General Kelly-Kenny having possessed himself of both Klip
Drift and Koodoosrand Drift, the Boers were now enclosed east
and west. But here, crunched in a veritable death-trap, they
fought tenaciously. Worn, harassed, and weakened by their hurried
march, they yet held a stubborn front to our assaulting troops, and
from the cramped region of their laager did as much damage as it
was possible to do. The Canadians, who had behaved with conspicuous
gallantry in the attack on the laager, lost nineteen killed
and sixty-three wounded. A description of the fight as seen from
their point of view was given by a private in the 1st Contingent:—

“We left Klip Drift on the Modder River at 6 P.M. Saturday, and marched
all night until seven on Sunday morning, covering 23 miles. During the march
we could hear the guns ahead. I was orderly man for Sunday, so, removing
my pack, I went to the river for water. Just a little way up the river a brisk
fire opened up. When I got back to our lines I found them issuing a ration
of rum. I had mine, and it just braced me up.

“By this time the engagement was pretty brisk. Our brigade was ordered
on the left of the river, which we crossed at a ford just in rear of the camp.
The Shropshires crossed first, then followed the Canadians and Gordons.
The water was up to our necks. Some went deeper and had to swim. We
crossed in fours, holding on to each other, formed up in column and advanced
a short distance, when we extended to seven paces in skirmishing order.
C Company formed to support A Company.

“By this time the bullets were coming pretty thickly, and we had some
very narrow squeaks. We reinforced A Company at 500 yards and opened
fire. The Boer fire was heavy, and some of our boys had been hit, but we
soon subdued the fire. Their position was in the river, and we were lying out
in the open, no cover of any kind except a few anthills. We could see very
little to fire at except the fire from their guns. Our line was in a crescent
shape, the right on the river, and the left extended along about 500 yards. In
the afternoon our troops were ordered to cease fire. As soon as we stopped
they started sniping, which made us hug the ground.

“Shortly after joining the firing line Captain Arnold of A Company was
struck. The Boers started a murderous fire on the stretcher-bearers who
carried him away, a trick they did all day long. Towards evening the left
was ordered to reinforce the right. It was a daring move, but we did it by
running down in threes and fours. At dark all the forces retired, and quite
a few men volunteered to search for the wounded. I was out all night until
four the next morning, when I laid down played out. I never want to witness
such terrible sights as I saw that night again. Whenever we showed ourselves
in the moonlight the sharpshooters would fire at us. We were all
up early next morning, but the Boers had retired farther up the river. So we
collected our wounded and buried the dead. I was helping a hospital sergeant,
and he sent two of us up the river to search for wounded. We found a
few, and also came across a wounded Boer, whom we bandaged and took
back to camp. We also came across a few dead. We questioned the Boer,
and he said that they had retired during the night, carrying their wounded and
throwing the dead into the river. After dinner, which we had about four, we
went out on outpost duty. During the night there was quite a little firing
going on. This morning we advanced towards the position again, and about[Pg 59]
ten o’clock retired for some breakfast and advanced again. Although under
fire all day we did not fire, but the artillery certainly played Cain with them.”

Captain Arnold’s wound was mortal, but Lieutenant Mason, who
was also shot, was not dangerously hurt.

A Colonial, writing from the front at Paardeberg, said that
fighting “went on during the day until about five o’clock, when the
Cornwalls arrived in support. The officer commanding this battalion
seemed to think that too much time had already been spent in
fighting the Boers, so ordered the charge. The result was fatal to the
Cornwalls, as they had to retire. The Canadians, acting under the
orders of the commanding officer of the Cornwalls as senior officer,
also charged, and with a like result; but the Canadians, in place of
retiring, simply lay down and remained. It was during this charge
that most of the fatalities occurred. The unfortunate commanding
officer of the Cornwalls was killed, and Captain Arnold and Lieutenant
Mason of the Canadians wounded. The Brigadier subsequently expressed
his regret that the charge took place, but at the same time
warmly congratulated the Canadians on their behaviour, as did Lord
Roberts also.”

Of gallantry and daring there was no end. From dawn till
sunset raged a battle of appalling fierceness, of magnificent persistency.
From drift to drift the hollows reverberated with the
perpetual roll of musketry, the brawling of multifarious guns, the
hoarse cheers of charging troops, the shouts of the unflinching enemy.
Curling smoke burst in wreaths and garlands from the sides of the
hills and rose against the purple of thunder-clouds; flaring tongues
of vengeful flame danced and forked their reflections of heaven’s
lightnings; spouts and torrents of water poured from the sky,
mingling with the heroical blood of Britain’s best, that trickled in
rivulets, north, south, east, and west of the scene, and traced far
and wide the history of sacrifice on the now sacred ground. For
all this, the position of the contending parties remained unchanged—Cronje
defiant and enclosed, the British lion crouching, watching.

At dusk the scene was weirdly, terrifically picturesque. From
the south and north sides of the river shells hurtled through the air,
falling and exploding along the river-bed, now setting fire to a
waggon, now a cart, and filling the gloom with lurid panoramas of
flame and an awe-striking, ceaseless din. Once an ammunition
waggon was struck. Then the blaze and crackling which followed,
intermingling as they did with the roar of artillery and the rattle
of rifles, made a fitting concert for Hades. And to the tune
of this demoniacal intermezzo the cordon round the enemy was
gradually closing, his last chances of escape were one by one
being sealed, the last links in Lord Roberts’ strategical chain
were being forged.[Pg 60]

At night there was peace. The Modder might have been the
placid purling Thames winding along between fringed and sloping
banks to the bosom of the sea. But there was none to admire the
pretty scene. All were worn out, and glad to drop to sleep where
they had fought, while the bearer-parties—“body-snatchers,” as they
were jocosely styled—picked their way in the darkness, doing their
deeds of mercy with zealous, unflagging perseverance. During
this time many deserters from the enemy came in. They had seen
the hopelessness of their case, and had been urging, uselessly, the
implacable Cronje to surrender.

The following is the list of those who were killed and wounded
during the fight:—

Killed:—Mounted Infantry—Colonel Hannay.[1] 2nd Warwick—Lieutenant
Hankay. Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry—Lieutenant-Colonel Aldworth,[2]
Captain E. P. Wardlaw, Captain Newbury. Seaforth Highlanders—Second
Lieutenant M’Clure. Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders—Lieutenant Courtenay.
West Riding Regiment—Lieutenant Siordet. 1st Yorkshire—Second
Lieutenant Neave. Oxford Light Infantry—Lieutenant Bright, Second Lieutenant
Ball-Acton. Wounded:—Staff—Major-General Knox (13th Brigade),
Major-General Hector MacDonald (3rd Brigade). Duke of Cornwall’s Light
Infantry—Captain J. H. Maunder, Lieutenant H. W. Fife, Second Lieutenant[Pg 61]
J. W. C. Fife, Second Lieutenant R. M. Grigg. Seaforth Highlanders—Captain
G. C. Fielden, Captain E. A. Cowans, Captain G. M. Lumsden, Lieutenant J.
P. Grant, Second Lieutenant D. P. Monypenny (died of wounds), Second Lieutenant
A. R. Moncrieff. 1st Gordon Highlanders—Second Lieutenant W. B. J.
Nutford. Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders—Lieutenant C. N. Macdonald,
Lieutenant G. Thorpe, Second Lieutenant G. A. Akers-Douglas, Second
Lieutenant F. G. S. Cunningham. Black Watch—Lieutenant-Colonel A. M.
Carthew-Yorkstoun, Major Hon. H. E. Maxwell, Major T. M. N. Berkeley,
Captain J. G. H. Hamilton, Lieutenant J. G. Grieve (N.S.W. forces attached).
West Riding Regiment—Captain F. J. de Gex, Captain H. D. E. Greenwood.
1st Yorkshire—Lieutenant-Colonel H. Bowles, Major Kirkpatrick, Lieutenant
C. V. Edwards, Captain A. C. Buckle (South Stafford attached). Oxford Light
Infantry—Major Day, Captain Watt, Lieutenant Hammich. East Kent Regiment—Captain
Geddes. Shropshire Light Infantry—Captain Gubbins, Captain
Smith, Lieutenant English, Second Lieutenant Kettlewell. Canadians—Captain
H. M. Arnold (since died of wounds), Lieutenant J. C. Mason, Lieutenant
Armstrong. R.A.M.C.—Captain J. E. C. Canter. Lieutenant G. H. Goddard.
East Surrey—Captain A. H. S. Hart. 2nd Lincoln—Second Lieutenant Dockray
Waterhouse. 1st Yorkshire—Second Lieutenant W. G. Turbet. 2nd Oxford
Light Infantry—Captain Fanshawe, Lieutenant Stapleton. 2nd Bedford—Captain
R. W. Waldy, Lieutenant Selous. 2nd Norfolk—Lieutenant Cramer-Roberts.
1st Welsh—Lieutenant-Colonel Banfield, Major Ball. 2nd East Kent—Captain
Godfrey-Faussett, accidentally shot (died February 21). 1st West
Riding—Captain Taylor, Captain Harris. Roberts’ Horse—Lieutenant A.
Grant. Argyll and Sutherland—Captain N. Malcolm, D.S.O. 1st Gordon
Highlanders—Lieutenant Ingilby. 1st Welsh Regiment—Major Harkness,
Lieutenant F. A. Jones, Lieutenant Veal. Mounted Infantry—Lieutenant-Colonel
Tudway (1st Essex). 1st Essex—Captain Milward, Second Lieutenant
Thomson. Missing:—Captain Lennox, 81st Field Battery R.A.

The following table gives the distribution of the losses among
officers:—

The heaviness of this list and the evenness with which the casualties
were shared bear witness to the dash and daring displayed by all the
battalions engaged.[Pg 62]

A good deal of comment subsequently took place regarding the
methods adopted during this day’s warfare, and many were of opinion
that the attempt to take the position by assault was unnecessarily wasteful
of life. Considering the positions of the various regiments on the
morning of the battle, it seemed as though the encircling of the
enemy and forcing him to submission by a slow process of pressure
would have served equally well to bring about the inevitable end.
But again it has been urged that there was at the time no knowing
how soon reinforcements might come to the assistance of Cronje,
or what results might accrue from permitting the Boers—at the
time breathless and weary—to gather themselves together for fresh
resistance. Delay was evidently the one thing that Cronje was
playing for, and Lord Kitchener, on his side, was averse from risks
which might bring about the failure of the vital undertaking.

TRAPPED

The enemy had little rest. The small hours were spent in constructing
entrenchments round the laager. All owned that their
stubborn energy was admirable, but further active resistance on the
part of Cronje was now beginning to be regarded by all—even his
own people—as an act of suicide and murder. “It was magnificent,
but it was not war,” as the Frenchman said. The Mounted Infantry
and a battery of artillery next morning turned their attention to an
offending kopje, whence the Boers could yet pour their equivalent for
“cold water” on the British plans, and while circling round the
position were accosted with a morning salutation from the rifles of
the Federals on the summit of the hill. Fortunately the fusillade was
launched with more vigour than accuracy, and there were no casualties.
Pursuing their investigations, the troops discovered a good
defensive position and seized it.

Early in the morning Cronje sent a white flag, demanding twenty-four
hours’ armistice for the purpose of burying his dead. This most
probably being part of a wary plot to gain time for reinforcements
to come to the rescue, a reply was sent back from Lord Kitchener
to the effect that it was impossible to grant the request, which must
await the arrival of the Commander-in-Chief. Lord Roberts was
then on his way from Jacobsdal, and when the matter was referred to
him, he at once sent a message refusing to accede to the proposition.
General Cronje’s reply, being roughly translated, implied that he
wished to surrender, but when Lord Kitchener requested him to
surrender in person, it was discovered that he had no notion of
capitulation—unconditional surrender being the terms offered. Lord
Roberts then ordered the resumption of the bombardment.

About midday came the rumour that French was at hand, and[Pg 63]
that he was taking his share of the great hemming-in movement,
but the cavalry division was then nowhere in view. Lord Roberts
arrived later, and addressed the troops, who welcomed him with
cheers. Meanwhile the 18th, 62nd, and 75th field-batteries and the
65th (howitzer) battery surrounded the laager, and commenced an
avalanche of destruction, the howitzers battering the river-bed with
an enfilading fire, the fumes of lyddite rendering the surrounding air
green with noxious vapour. Waggon after waggon of ammunition
exploded with infernal uproar, shrapnel and lyddite danced diabolically
over the river-bed and laager, yet there were no signs of surrender—not
the flutter of a white flag in the direction where remained
the obdurate man who, his last chance gone, refused to bow to the
inevitable. Prisoners now and then, worn out and disgusted, came
in, their rifles slung, and gave themselves up. In the laager were
sixty women and girls, they said, and Cronje, “disconsolate and
defiant, sat holding Mrs. Cronje’s hand and comforting her in the
river-bed.” Meanwhile Broadwood’s brigade had appeared, exhausted
and starving. The cavalry had come along the river-bank
to Paardeberg in order to reach the forage and the convoy which
was accompanying the infantry divisions from Klip Drift. Their
state was lamentable, for it must be remembered that General
Broadwood had galloped off during the night of the 16th almost
provisionless. His brigade had borne the brunt of the fray, for
General Gordon had only been able to follow later with some 120
horses out of his whole brigade. Colonel Porter’s brigade marched
later still, owing to some accident with the telegraph. The work of
relieving Kimberley and heading Cronje had cost the cavalry some
990 horses out of a total of 4800.

The loss of life, however, had not been excessive considering the
strain and the engagements that had taken place between the 14th
and 16th, but some goodly young officers were missing. Lieutenant
Carbutt (R.H.A.), Lieutenant Brassey (9th Lancers), Lieutenant
Hesketh (16th Lancers), and Lieutenant the Hon. M’Clintock Banbury
(Scots Greys), were among the killed. Among the wounded
were Captain Humfreys (Q Battery), Lieutenant Houston (P Battery),
Lieut. Barnes (Q Battery), Captain Gordon and Lieut. Durand
(9th Lancers), Captain Tuson (16th Lancers), Lieut. Fordyce and
Second Lieut. Long (Scots Greys), Lieut. Johnson (Inniskilling
Dragoons), Lieut. Gray (Roberts’ Horse). The fatigued remnant
of the cavalry division now engaged in tackling the reinforcements
that Cronje had so ardently expected.

In consequence of the huge circumference of the British circle, it
was almost impossible to chronicle the innumerable small but brilliant
actions which were continually taking place, and which in the
excitement of the investment were almost overlooked. On the[Pg 64]
night of the 19th the Gloucesters performed a dashing though futile
feat. In the afternoon they neared a kopje in which the Dutchmen
were ensconced. They bided their time, and just as the shades
of night began to fall rushed on the enemy with bayonets and drove
them off with considerable loss. The positions taken were evacuated,
however, during the night.

On the 20th the Boers before dawn were again hard at work
increasing their entrenchments all round their laager, but their
plucky labours were impeded by continual shells which were
launched now and again to prevent the work from being carried to
completion. Meanwhile from the east came the echo of artillery,
a rumour of battle which proved that the untiring French was
actively engaged in standing between the Boer reinforcements
and Cronje, who still held out gallantly in the fond yet forlorn
hope of their ultimate arrival. He was humanely offered many
chances to give in, but since he stoutly refused them all, measures
were taken by Lord Roberts to bring the fighting to a speedy
conclusion.

But the doggedly valiant attitude of the enemy was not lost on
his assailants. It had been impossible to withhold from Cronje a
certain admiration for the masterful manœuvres which extricated him
from his impossible position at Majersfontein, or for the stubborn
resistance with which his force, outwitted, harassed by the mounted
infantry, and fighting a skilful rearguard action, had succeeded in
getting at least thirty-five miles to Koodoosrand Drift. It was now
equally impossible to overlook the magnificent energy of the man,
who, with his means of flight at an end, his 50,000 lbs. of ammunition
sacrificed, his stores captured, his oxen exhausted to the death,
with almost certain defeat staring him in the face, could turn and
fight an action both ferocious and sanguinary. Moreover, by the
sheer magnetism of his personality he forced his followers to show
a bold front and maintain a desperate, almost fatuous, courage in
the face of the most terrific shelling that the century has known.

CRONJE’S STRONGHOLD ON THE MODDER RIVER.

Drawing by H. C. Seppings Wright, from a Sketch by Frederic Villiers, War Artist.

Little by little the enclosing circle began to grow narrower.
The infantry—the Cornwalls assisted by the Engineers—again
set to work to push the enemy still farther back into the river,
but otherwise little advance was made. The position was now
sufficiently terrible for the enemy. Cronje’s trap was about a mile
square, while commanding it in every direction were guns multifarious;
bushes and banks and ravines were swept by cataracts
of shrapnel, while volumes of greenish-yellow smoke from bursting
lyddite curved and twisted around the river-bed, then carried
their noxious vapour to the serene sapphire of the heavens. In
the clear atmosphere the reiterations of Maxims filled up the pauses
between the steady booming of artillery, while now and again the[Pg 65]
impotent despairing splutter of rifles from the enemy’s laager mingled
with the stertorous rampage.

On the fourth day of Cronje’s resistance what might have been
an unfortunate incident occurred. The Gloucester and Essex regiments
by an accident had bivouacked on the north side of the river
too close to the enemy’s laager. The result was that on the first
gleam of daylight they were discovered by the Dutchmen, who
treated them to a volley by way of reveillé. Luckily the firing
was not at all up to the Boer mark and the regiments came off
scot-free.

During the day General Smith Dorrien’s force on the north
worked towards the doomed laager while General Knox’s brigade
held the containing lines on the south side of the river. In the
east General French was keeping an eye on a swarm of Boers
who were hoping to come to the rescue of Cronje. These held
a strong position on a kopje which seemed to be specially constructed
by nature for defensive purposes. Still, when General
Broadwood’s brigade and a battery of horse-artillery turned their
attention to the summit and scoured it thoroughly, the Dutchmen
helter-skelter fled. Unluckily for them, their precipitate action took
them straight into the arms of General French, who having headed
them towards the drift, now gave them so warm a reception that
numbers bit the dust. Some escaped, but fifty were taken prisoners.
Forage, provisions, and equipment were also seized, though the
corpses of the slain were carried off, so that the tale of loss could
not be told.

The capture of the kopje was an excellent move, as it was a
useful position whence to watch for and intercept reinforcements
that might be coming from Ladysmith or elsewhere to the succour
of the doomed. A message was sent to the obdurate Commandant
offering a safe conduct and a free pass anywhere for the women and
children. Lord Roberts also proffered medical attendance and
drugs. The offers were curtly rejected. Finding courteous overtures
of no avail, the bombardment of the position was resumed, and
the artillery continued to fire till dusk put an end to the operations.
While the firing was taking place the mules of the 82nd
Battery, while still hitched to the waggons, took it into their heads
to stampede, causing a scene of the wildest confusion. The next
day, however, all save one waggon were recovered.

During the night the Shropshire Regiment accomplished a fine
feat. They pressed forward some two hundred yards, captured
new ground, and there entrenched themselves. It was an excellent
finale to four days’ incessant work under a withering fire, and by
the 22nd they were fairly exhausted. They were then relieved by
the Gordons. Here be it noticed that the Gordons were now[Pg 66]
incorporated with the Highland Brigade, which was thus composed
of four kilted regiments. The Highland Light Infantry, who wear
“trews,” had joined General Smith Dorrien’s force.

The exchange of positions between the Shropshires and Gordons
was effected in a manner worthy of the slim Boer himself, and
showed that the Britons had speedily taken practical lessons from
their adversaries. The Shropshires having, as said, seized 200
yards of new ground, they were relieved the following morning by
the Gordons. The Highlanders, snake-like, wormed themselves
forward to the trenches on their stomachs, while the Shropshire
men in like manner crawled over the bodies of the relieving force.
An officer who witnessed the evolution said, “I have often heard
of walking on an empty stomach, but I’m hanged if I’ve ever seen
the feat accomplished so well and so literally.”

Another tremendous thunderstorm broke over the position,
causing considerable discomfort to the troops, but still more to the
unhappy creatures who, through the stout resistance of Cronje,
were held to all the horrors of the trap into which he had fallen.
We were now closing in on every side.

A grand attempt was made on the morning of the 23rd to bring
help to the Dutchman. Commandant de Wet with a horde of some
1000 Boers, collected from the region of Ladysmith, appeared, and
made a desperate effort to thrust himself through the British lines.
Part of the force on its way towards its hoped-for destination was
luckily accosted from a kopje occupied by the Scottish Borderers.
The greeting, smart and accurate, was scarcely to the Dutchmen’s
liking, and they made off in another direction, but still with the
same result. From position to position they were hunted, and
in sheer despair they made for an unoccupied kopje, where they
hoped at last to make a stand. But they were disappointed.
The lively Scottish Borderers were “one too many for them.”
Seeing the Boers in act of seizing this point of vantage, the
Borderers promptly hurled themselves in the coveted direction.
There was an animated neck-and-neck race, and the Borderers,
who won by a nose, promptly took possession of the hill and
completely routed the Federals.

Finally the Boers found shelter in a kopje which was vis-à-vis
to a like eminence held by the Yorkshires. A passage at arms
followed, with the result that the fusillade of the enemy died a
natural death. Then the Yorkshires, who had so strenuously
brought about this result, were reinforced by the Buffs, lest some
more of the Boer hosts from Ladysmith should put in an appearance.
At this time the 75th and 62nd Batteries gave tongue from
an adjacent farm, but their vociferous notes produced little effect
upon the crown of the Boers’ stronghold.[Pg 67]

So great was the silence that the Yorkshires moved on with
a view to prodding the enemy in his lair, but, in the attempt, they
were so furiously assailed by the shot of the enemy that they,
in default of cover, were unable to proceed. Meanwhile the Buffs
persevered, moving warily round the position till within 150 yards
of the Dutchmen, who were eventually driven off. More than
eighty—their horses having been shot—surrendered. On many of
these were discovered explosive bullets, and it became evident that
desperation was driving the Boers to disregard the rules of civilised
warfare. Many of our wounded were found injured by these unholy
missiles; and other tricks—barbarous tricks—were reported. On
one occasion a Vickers-Maxim gun was directed at an ambulance,
which at the time was fortunately unoccupied.

During the week our losses were fewer than on the opening
day. Captain Dewar and Lieutenant Percival, 4th King’s Royal
Rifles, and Lieutenant Angell, Welsh Regiment, were killed.
Among the wounded were:—

2nd Gloucester—Lieutenant-Colonel R. F. Lindsell; 2nd Derbyshire—Lieutenant
C. D. M. Harrington; 9th Lancers—Captain Campbell; P.R.H.A.—Lieutenant
Houston; Royal Engineers—Captain Crookshank; 1st Lincoln—Second
Lieutenant Wellesley; Argyll and Sutherland—Lieutenant and Adjutant
Glasford; 1st East Kent Regiment (attached 2nd Battalion)—Lieutenant
Hickman; 2nd Lincoln—Captain Gardner; King’s Own Scottish
Borderers—Captain Pratt; East Kent—Captain Marriott; Yorkshire—Captain
Pearson, Lieutenant Gunthorpe, 2nd Lieutenant Wardle.

Lieutenant Metge (1st Welsh Regiment) was missing.

Daily the enemy was squeezed into a smaller space. General
Smith Dorrien had now pushed up the river-bed to within two
hundred yards of Cronje’s entrenchments. The object lesson in
perseverance, both on the part of Boers and British, was becoming
almost awe-inspiring—the tension was veritably appalling. Soaked
with rain to the very skin—the fevered skin that had been scorched,
and toasted, and begrimed with dust—our men, grim and fierce, with
the storm-winds piping the pipe of death about their ears, held their
ground. Rations had been intermittent till the convoys began to
come in, and, almost fasting, they had been acutely conscious of the
foul, the nauseating atmosphere that now enveloped them like a
loathely vaporous entanglement. The river had swollen and bore
upon its turbid breast horrific revelations—thousands of rotting carcases
and festering loads of poisonous wreckage, that rendered the
act even of drawing breath almost a heroism. All along the great
march endurance had been put to supreme test, for the track had
been margined with the dead bodies of exhausted oxen and horses.
These lay littered about, unburied, disembowelled, and in various
stages of putrefaction. Everywhere vultures and flies and other[Pg 68]
loathsome parasites of the veldt hovered and sidled and crawled,
glutting themselves at veritable orgies of destruction, and contesting
their prizes with the winds. These, taking their fill, hastened
to diffuse the remains of the grisly banquet far and wide. Thus
the foul dust, wantonly distributed, blew in the throats and eyes
and ears of gallant men, and contributed death more liberally, more
pitifully, than even the bullets of the Boers!

Guns Captured at Paardeberg.

Photo by Alf. S. Hosking, Cape Town.

Plentiful rain had fallen, saturating humanity, and causing the
heated ground to retract the fumes of a charnel-house. But in one
way better times had come. There was fuller fare. Large convoys
made a daily appearance, and the men were refreshed after their
labours with the promise of plenty. Food of a substantial kind was
indeed necessary, for it served to attune the stomach to the noxious
vapours that hourly grew almost tangible. Cronje, though he
knew it not, was sowing the seeds of a harvest of revenge! He
was killing his thousands! For many days our troops had been
enduring lenten fare; they had rung the changes on hardships,
fatigues, and self-abnegations of all kinds. They had been battered
on by storms. They had outstripped transport and supplies. They
had kept the inner man appeased and working on quarter rations.
They had marched like giants in ten-league boots, and meanwhile
fed like fairies; yet withal had borne countenances cheery and[Pg 69]
noble, full of confidence and unquenchable pluck. But these splendid
creatures were but mortal. The foul fiends of enteric and malaria
were already sapping their buoyant constitutions, and marking them,
one after another, with the deadly seal of possession.

Every day of the Dutchman’s resistance was therefore full of
horror, full of anxiety. There were continual rumours that the
Boer reinforcements were in view, that the Federals were massing
for a desperate effort. Wearied and battered, the cavalry at
Koodoosrand were perpetually speeding on wild-goose chases, in
one of which both General French and Colonel Haig nearly lost
their lives. A reconnaissance in force had been ordered. The drift,
swollen by rains, was now a torrent, and in crossing the General
and his A.D.C. were thrown by their restive horses into the river,
whence they only emerged safe and sound in consequence of their
being fine swimmers and pneumonia-proof Britons.

Cronje, finding that the reinforcements failed to reach him,
decided on the night of the 26th to cut his way out and seize a kopje
before dawn. But his intention was frustrated by the Mounted
Infantry, who, in spite of the darkness, kept a watchful eye on the
slippery enemy.

Quite early on the morning of the 27th of February, the anniversary
of Majuba day, the splutter of musketry greeted the ears of
the dozing camp. Some one was up and doing early. It was the
Canadians. They were acting on the principle of the early bird that
catches the morning worm. Supported by the Gordons, Cornwalls,
and Shropshires, they were advancing, building a trench in
the very teeth of the enemy, and at fifty yards’ range were
saluting him with such deadly warmth as to render his position
untenable. How this energetic and gallant movement, the wonder
and admiration of all, was brought about was described by the
correspondent of the Times. “It appeared that Brigadier-General
MacDonald sent from his bed a note to Lord Roberts, reminding
him that Tuesday was the anniversary of that disaster which, we all
remembered, he had by example, order, and threat himself done his
best to avert, even while the panic had been at its height; Sir Henry
Colvile submitted a suggested attack backed by the same unanswerable
plea. For a moment Lord Roberts demurred to the plan; it
seemed likely to cost too heavily, but the insistance of Canada broke
down his reluctance, and the men of the oldest colony were sent out
in the small hours of Tuesday morning to redeem the blot on the
name of the mother-country.

“From the existing trench, some 700 yards long, on the northern
bank, held jointly by the Gordons and the Canadians, the latter were
ordered to advance in two lines—each, of course, in extended order—thirty
yards apart, the first with bayonets fixed, the second rein[Pg 70]forced
by fifty Royal Engineers under Colonel Kincaid and Captain
Boileau.

“In dead silence, and covered by a darkness only faintly illuminated
by the merest rim of the dying moon, ‘with the old moon
in her lap,’ the three companies of Canadians moved on over the
bush-strewn ground. For over 400 yards the noiseless advance
continued, and when within eighty yards of the Boer trench the
trampling of the scrub betrayed the movement. Instantly the outer
trench of the Boers burst into fire, which was kept up almost without
intermission from five minutes to three o’clock to ten minutes past
the hour. Under this fire the courage and discipline of the Canadians
proved themselves. Flinging themselves on the ground, they
kept up an incessant fire on the trenches, guided only by the flashes
of their enemy’s rifles; and the Boers admit that they quickly reduced
them to the necessity of lifting their rifles over their heads to the
edge of the earthwork and pulling their triggers at random. Behind
this line the Engineers did magnificent work; careless of danger,
the trench was dug from the inner edge of the bank to the crest,
and then for fifty or sixty yards out through the scrub. The Canadians
retired three yards to this protection and waited for dawn,
confident in their new position, which had entered the protected
angle of the Boer position, and commanded alike the rifle-pits of the
banks and the trefoil-shaped embrasures on the north.”

For some time it seemed as though hostilities were suspended,
and then—a sign, a flutter of white, a signal of surrender caught
the straining eyes of the regiment nearest the crest of the hill. In
an instant the plains and the hollows, the kopjes, and even the dome
of heaven, seemed animated—lending themselves to repeat the ringing
cheer, to reiterate the cry of an immense joyous heart splitting a little
universe in twain. Ears languid, ears hard-working, ears occupied,
ears expectant, all caught the sound, echoed it and knew that at last
the looked-for hour had come, Cronje had surrendered! Many
Boers threw up their hands and dashed unarmed across the intervening
space; others waved white flags and exposed themselves
carelessly on their entrenchments, but not a shot was fired. Colonel
Otter and Colonel Kincaid held a hasty consultation, which was
disturbed by the sight of Sir Henry Colvile (commanding the Ninth
Division) quietly riding down within 500 yards of the northern Boer
trenches to bring the news that at that very moment a horseman
was hurrying in with a white flag and Cronje’s unconditional surrender,
to take effect at sunrise.[Pg 71]

THE SURRENDER OF CRONJE

Then all was activity. A note was borne to Lord Roberts
stating that Cronje had given in, and General Pretyman thereupon
rode out to take his surrender. The scene was highly impressive.
Lord Roberts, in front of the cart in which he slept, walked up and
down awaiting his prisoner, while a guard of the Seaforth Highlanders
with drawn bayonets formed a line to either side. In the
distance a small group of horsemen was seen approaching, a silhouette
which gradually grew clearer in the golden light of the morning. It
was General Pretyman with the redoubtable Cronje riding a white
pony on his right and the escort of the 12th Lancers following. The
subsequent scene was a study in reserve. After all the tumultuous
passions, the ferocity of bloodshed, the diamond-cut-diamond activities
of death-dealing lyddite and Vickers-Maxims, the two leaders met
without the smallest sign of emotion. To Lord Roberts, who stood
with his staff awaiting him, Colonel Pretyman said, “Commandant
Cronje, sir!” The two great men looked at each other, the Dutchman
touched his hat, the Englishman returned the salute. The
group dismounted, and then, regretfully be it noted, Lord Roberts,
the blameless upright British soldier gave his hand to the tyrant of
Potchefstroom. “You have made a gallant defence, sir,” said the
British Commander-in-Chief; “I am glad to see you. I am glad to
get so brave a man!”

The picture of the redoubtable Cronje as he approached our
great little Field-Marshal was remarkable in its contrast. On
the one side you saw a burly square-jawed agriculturist, grizzly
of beard, tanned and battered of complexion, portly and cumbrous
of form. On the other, you had the lithe figured aristocratical
British soldier, trim in his kharki uniform, and wearing his sword
with the air of nameless distinction which belongs to the born ruler
of men. Cronje’s aspect was that of a substantial farmer, his heavy
cane, his slouch hat encircled by its orange leather band, his bottle-green
overcoat and tan boots were distinctly bucolic, but his rigid
implacable countenance, an utterly impenetrable façade, betrayed the
masterly and indomitable character of the man.

There is no doubt that by his fierce, his masterly resistance to
the British he won for himself the respect of all who trapped him.
His undoubted pluck, a quality which has such unending fascination
for the English, served in a great measure to wipe off the terrible
remembrance of his atrocious deeds in other years. Cronje spoke
scarcely a word. He said there were 3000 Boers in the laager—as
a matter of fact, there were over 3700—and also requested that his
wife, son, grandson, and secretary might be allowed to remain with
him. This request was acceded to; arrangements were made that[Pg 72]
his relatives should accompany him into captivity. He then partook
of refreshment in Lord Roberts’ quarters with the staff. Though
he smoked, he said little and remained gloomy and preoccupied.

The prisoners trooped across the river like some patriarchal or
gipsy horde, with trousers turned up so as not to damp them in
the swollen drift. They splashed along, each armed with his household
effects, pots and pans, blankets and rifles, some jesting and
skipping in sheer exuberance of animal spirits that long had been
subdued, some stolid and serious in the full comprehension of the
grievous end of all their pluck and endurance. And they had
endured! From the hundreds of wounded that were brought in
the same tale of suspense, and misery, and horror was told in varying
keys. Always they had awaited reinforcement; they had even
invented a scheme for cutting a way out to meet the relieving force
which never came. But volunteers for this deed of daring were
few. About a hundred in all. This meagre array was not sufficient.
Others had pressed on the relentless Cronje the philosophy of
surrender. They urged that directly, if not annihilated by shell fire,
they would be laid low by fever; already eighty-seven men were
slain and a hundred and sixty wounded. These had no doctors
even to attend them. The surgeons had been left behind on the
Modder, and the offer of Lord Roberts of medicine and succour
had been refused. The suffering had indeed been terrible and now
was of no avail.

It was not pleasing to the vanity of the British army to find
themselves confronted with such a rabble of tatterdemalions, and to
remember how this nondescript mob had so long held them in check.
But there was no denying that the ruffians had qualities, and that
they, unkempt and undisciplined as they were, had proved themselves
foemen worthy of our steel and tacticians meriting study.

“MAJUBA DAY”—CRONJE SURRENDERS TO LORD ROBERTS AT PAARDEBERG.

Drawing by R. Caton Woodville, from a Sketch by Frederic Villiers, War Artist.

It was curious how much our troops had learnt both from the
undisciplined Boers and the inexperienced Colonials. From the
latter they picked up the art of taking cover, and from the
former the art of obtaining it. The Boer was not content merely
to crouch behind a stone and show a head only when about to
shoot. He cunningly arranged his sangar so that he should expose
no head at all. He built up his small stones to the necessary
height, taking care to leave a central loophole through which
he could take aim and yet remain invisible. An officer, in giving
his opinion of the Boer as a fighter, showed the lessons that had
been taught by him. “As a defender of defensive positions in
a mountainous country he is unequalled. He digs good trenches
and chooses good defensive positions, and he lies there quietly
and waits for his enemy to advance across the open. But he
never, hardly ever, dares to attack in the open, and if his flank[Pg 73]
is turned or his rear threatened, he gets nervous, and retires to a
better position if he can. If our positions could be reversed—that
is, if Tommy Atkins had to defend the kopjes, and if the Boers had
to attack them in the open, there can be no doubt as to the result.
Tommy, perhaps, would not be quite so good as the Boer in defence,
but, on the other hand, the Boer would fail in the attack;
indeed, he could not be brought to attempt it. As a shooter the
Boer is no better than our own men. The only difference is that he
attempts to shoot at far longer ranges. The Boer has taught us to
dig big trenches and to use big guns as mobile artillery.”

The mobility of the big guns was at the moment more of a
puzzle than ever. The Boers were in possession of some Vickers-Maxims
in laager, two 15-pounders, and some big guns. We captured
the minor weapons, but the big ones were sedulously hidden,
and how they had vanished became a problem that was never solved.
It was supposed they were buried in the bed of the river, but search
failed to unearth them.

Trophies innumerable were picked up. Sir Howard Vincent
succeeded in securing a quaint seventeenth-century Bible, and
Roberts’ Horse possessed themselves of Cronje’s green bell-tent
and ox-waggon. One cavalry officer thought himself lucky to secure
a new pair of stays marked “11¾, waist 28 inches,” evidently the
property of a capacious vrow. Letters multifarious were found,
among them Cronje’s commission, signed by President Steyn.

Most of the prisoners, when interrogated, declared they were
sick of the war, and confessed that but for their fear of Cronje they
would long ago have surrendered. His was the powerful, the guiding
hand. Some of them expressed queer notions of the causes
of the trouble, giving forth at second and even third hand—and
in a very garbled condition—the sentiments poured into them by
“sympathisers.”

Said one, “The war is got up by the capitalists. The generals
arrange a victory or a reverse to suit their own interests on the
Stock Exchange!”

A private remonstrated, “You don’t include Lord Roberts?
You’ll admit that he is disinterested!”

“Not a bit of it! He is a shareholder along with Chamberlain
and Rhodes and the other millionaires. They all look after number
one.”

Against such prejudice and ignorance it was useless to argue.

Some of the Free Staters expressed their joy at being relieved
of the company of the Boers. They had been on bad terms with
them, and had scarcely dared to speak a word in English for fear of
their lives. One declared that he was not permitted even to address
his horse in the odious language![Pg 74]

There were great and astonishing contrasts in the groups of
prisoners that were gathered together. Many of them were youths
of sixteen to eighteen years of age. Some seemed in a hopeless
stage of sickness and despair, others attenuated by the amount of
vinegar consumed to cure the stupefying effects of our lyddite. Endurance,
it was plainly to be seen, had been carried to the last pitch.
Some, on the other hand, appeared as though already reviving with
the relaxation of the strain to which they had been subjected; some
even delighted to find themselves in British hands, no longer tormented
by “hell-scrapers,” as they called the shrapnel, and already clamouring
to partake of spirits and refreshment, for which they had longed in
vain. The rapture at their deliverance overcame all other sentiments;
they had no thought for the ups and downs of the war, and
many, indeed, were still unaware of the causes that had led them to
share in it. Cronje had evidently kept a tight hand on them, and but
for his unique influence many would long before have surrendered.
This peculiar despotism was marvellous when it is considered that
none of the younger commanders could induce more than a portion
of his commando to follow him from the Natal side to the scene of
operations. Cronje had the privilege of being the most admired and
well-detested person on the stage of the moment, and one Boer was
seen clenching his fist in the direction of the vanquished tyrant and
exclaiming, “You hard man! you deserve to be shot.” There were
many who heard him who endorsed the opinion.

A great deal of undue attention seemed to be bestowed on the
Dutch Commandant, and evidently it was his undisputed military
genius that earned for him the admiration of his conquerors. Only
to this final display of skill and pluck can be attributed the deference
paid to a man whose Anglophobia had made itself prominent for
many years, one who cut such a despicable figure in his relations
with us at Potchefstroom, and who was responsible in particular for
much of the brutality which has been accredited to the Boers in
general. It was certainly a case of turning the other cheek to the
smiter, for the captive was allowed to take with him his wife, and
retain in his possession his favourite horse, Wolmarens!

Accompanied by Mrs. Cronje, he was sent to Cape Town in a
covered waggon, guarded by a special convoy under the command
of Colonel Pretyman. There was considerable pathos in the scene
of departure, for many of the other prisoners had gone through the
ordeal of the bombardment with their wives by their sides, and these,
less fortunate than Mrs. Cronje, had to be left behind!

The majority of people, it must be owned, were horrorstruck at
the consideration shown to one to whom the word consideration was
an empty name. A Scottish Colonial, writing home, expressed his
irritation at the mode in which warfare was conducted. He said:[Pg 75]
“Cronje is now a hero, housed in the Admiral’s cabin on board
the Doris. He is probably saying, ‘What fools the British are.’
For, give him a chance, and he would commit again the treacherous
murders for which he has been responsible in the past with as little
compunction as he would feel at putting his heel on a scorpion. I
wonder if we may take this bit of foolishness as an indication of the
way in which England is going to settle up finally with the Republics.
Her policy has so often before ended in weakness that one cannot
help feeling nervous.”

He was merely one of a thousand who argued that it was impossible
to go to war with kid-gloves on, and who regretted the
terms of the proclamation which had been made on the entry of
Lord Roberts to the Free State. This proclamation, which will be
discussed anon, was another of the nineteenth-century humanitarian
movements which were mistakenly applied to seventeenth-century
comprehension. To return to the events of Majuba day.

Lord Roberts subsequently visited the Boer laager, and testified
his admiration of the ingenuity and energy with which the position
was made almost impregnable to assault. In spite of ten days’
bombardment by over fifty guns and howitzers, the number of Boer
wounded was said to amount to only 160—a fact which went to
prove that the power of artillery can be broken by the ingenious use
of the spade. The entrenchments, when examined, proved to be
most skilfully contrived, with narrow mouths some eighteen inches
wide, and wide bases, some quite three feet broad, which rendered
them almost impregnable to shell fire.

The effect of the bombardment was terrific. The laager presented
an appearance of black chaos, varied only by streaks of
yellow, which told of the gambols of lyddite. Waggons were
wrecked with shrapnel; some had ceased to exist; rings and twists
and girandoles of distorted metal were all that was left of them.
Within the laager was a decaying, disordered mass of Boer belongings,
saddles innumerable, karosses and panniers, coats and feminine
apparel, fragments of old tin trunks, and 2,000,000 rounds of ammunition;
wreckage of all sorts, united by the super-evident, unavoidable,
and persistent bonds of stench, which permeated everything,
weaving visible and invisible in one noxious nightmare of the
senses.

Round this arena of pestilence sentries were posted. It was
necessary to prevent loot, though little of value remained save
munitions of war. Most of the Boer property had been left behind
in the hurried rush from Majersfontein and Spyfontein. Still the
locality had to be guarded, and the guards, as well as all who
approached, had to pocket their sensibilities. Indeed, it was a
marvel how the Boers had managed to exist in the pestilential[Pg 76]
atmosphere that pervaded the river-bed. Dotted everywhere, or
collected in heaps, already rotting in the tropical heat, were the
remains of horses, mules, and cattle, some of which had been driven
to death, while others had been hurried there by the voice of our
howitzers or the rain of our rifle fire. In the fringe of this atmosphere
our troops had lived for some three days past, for nightly
they had advanced some fifty to an hundred yards nearer the laager,
and there dug trenches and located themselves, till, at the end, the
last three nights were passed almost within pistol-shot of the
enemy and in the thick of a stench whose opacity was well-nigh
suffocating.

An interesting account of his enforced stay in the laager was
given by a trooper in Kitchener’s Horse, who was taken prisoner
on the day previous to the great battle which settled Cronje’s fate.
He had become separated from the rest of his troop while scouting
along the Modder River. When he looked round for his friends,
he found himself surrounded by a party of Boers, who, jumping
from the bushes, fired upon him. His horse was shot and rolled
over upon the young trooper, carrying him with him into the river.
The Boers rescued him, relieved him of his bandolier, and made him
prisoner. Together they went to the laager. “There,” the trooper
said, “I was taken before Commandant Cronje, who asked me
our strength and movements. On my replying that I was only a
trooper, and did not know, he said, ‘Oh, never mind; if you don’t
want to tell me, I shall not try to make you.’ A guard was placed
over me, and we stayed the night in the laager. I should say
there were about 6000 Dutchmen all told, and forty women and
children. A great many among them were Irishmen, a few Scotchmen;
in short, almost every nation was more or less numerously
represented. All that night they were busy entrenching themselves,
employing a great deal of native labour to help them.”
Through the whole of the 18th of February the young man
endured the bombardment, which he described as so heavy that
it was impossible to remain in the laager, and consequently all,
even the women and children, took refuge in the trenches. The
Boers’ mode of firing he specially made a note of: “The Boers did
not in the least mind our attack, and laughed amongst themselves
as they saw the men advancing. They allowed them to come up
to about 600 yards from the trenches, and then opened a tremendous
fire from their rifles. It did not seem to be aimed at any
particular man, but more at a certain fixed distance. At that they
fired as fast as they could. The range was obtained by a few
fixed shots, who fired, watched the dust caused by the strike of the
bullets, and then gave out the range. Our men came up to within
150 yards and then retired. They fired volleys at the longer[Pg 77]
distances, but all their fire seemed to me to be short.” Each day
there were losses, but comparatively few, as the bottle-shaped
trenches afforded excellent cover; those that fell, however, were
buried where they lay. He went on to say that “The shelling
of Monday night destroyed several waggons, two of which were on
either side of Cronje’s own. No one could have been braver than
he was. He stood upon the waggon-step, field-glasses in hand,
and did not seem to care in the least how thickly the shells and
bullets fell. Many of the Free Staters, however, were quite the
reverse, and were in a great state of terror when the bombardment
began. The ammunition waggons blew up, and several of the
provision waggons were burned. The shrapnel killed the majority
of the horses and cattle, which had no shelter but the banks of
the river. Beyond that the fire did little real damage.” The
prisoner declared his belief that “could they have kept their laager
out of fire they would never have surrendered. The loss of the
provision waggons was what caused them to give in. They had
only four days’ food left. Their ammunition was still plentiful.
After the explosion of the ammunition waggons by shell-fire on
February 19, all the remaining cartridges were distributed throughout
the trenches, and on the south side every trench was still full
of unused ammunition. Everything was done in the trenches,
even the cooking, each individual having with him a box of provisions
sunk into the ground. These boxes were replenished at
night as there was no possibility of reaching the laager during the
day.”

Lord Roberts addressed the Canadians, and expressed his satisfaction
and appreciation of the splendid work they had done and the
courage they had shown. To them he attributed the greater share
in the Boer surrender. All were delighted at the attention shown
the heroic Colonials, who had done splendid work, and at the
exhibition of Lord Roberts’ tact and kindliness in thus singling
out the Canadians for the position of honour. In the Jubilee of 1897
the Field-Marshal had told the Colonial Bodyguard that he would
like to have them with him if he were ever in another campaign,
and now the Canadians felt that the Chief’s cherished words had
been no mere formula, and that they had been given the chance to
distinguish themselves that they had so eagerly desired.

To General Colvile was given the credit of inventing the order of
attack which at last brought the Boers to their senses. He arranged
that the first rank should advance, bayonets fixed, till the enemy
opened fire. Then they were to lie down and continue to fire on
the Boers, while Engineers and the second line dug a trench. The
trench thus made was within eighty yards of those of the Boers, and
owing to its trefoil shape, the troops were able to enfilade both the[Pg 78]
river and northern trenches of the enemy and make them untenable.
From their point in the original trench the Gordon Highlanders
kept up a brisk fire, while the Shropshire Light Infantry, who were
posted over a thousand yards to the north-west of the position, co-operated.

In the very successful attack on the enemy’s trenches the Royal
Canadian Contingent lost seven killed and twenty-nine wounded.
Major Pelletier, who commanded the French company, foremost
of the three companies, was wounded, and also Lieutenant Armstrong.
It is interesting to note that few of this gallant company of
Great Britain’s defenders could speak English!

Boer Trenches at Paardeberg.

Photo by Alf. S. Hosking, Cape Town.

Colonel Otter, in command of the Canadians, had distinguished
himself on many occasions by rare coolness and display of great
talent in the field, and he now took pleasure in reporting excellently[Pg 79]
of the various members of the battalion under his command who had
especially distinguished themselves. Among these were:—

Captain H. B. Stairs, 66th P. L. Fusiliers, and Lieutenant and Captain A.
H. Macdonell, Royal Canadian Regiment. E Company, No. 5130, Corporal
T. E. Baugh, R.C.R. F Company, No. 7782, Private O. Matheson, 12th Newcastle
Field Battery; No. 7803, Private A. Sutherland, D. of Y. R. C. Hrs.;
No. 7868, Sergeant W. Peppeatt, Royal Canadian Artillery; No. 7871, Corporal
R. D. M’Donald, Royal Canadian Artillery; No. 7822, Private C. Harrison,
2nd Montreal Regiment C.A.; No. 7841, Private A. Bagot, 65th Montreal
Rifles; No. 7778, Private Sievert, 93rd Cumberland Infantry; No. 7615, Private
A. T. Seriault, 9th Voltigeurs de Quebec.

But these were only a select few among the number who were
engaged in incomparable things done incomparably well.

[Pg 80]

CHAPTER II

MAFEKING IN DECEMBER AND JANUARY

Christmas Day, in deference to warlike etiquette, was
observed as a holiday; but, in spite of the pacific nature
of the occasion, the man who was the brain of Mafeking
was organising a plan by which the cordon around the
town might be broken. He was deciding that there must
be a big fight on the morrow, and that a desperate effort must be
made to change the cramped vista of affairs. Waiting was a weary
game, and it was felt that some one must make a move. The Boers
certainly, had they chosen, might have carried the town by assault,
but for such activity they had no appetite. This was no boy’s job,
and, as they themselves confessed, they went out to shoot, not to be
shot. Not so the gentle civilians, who, while incarcerated in this
little hamlet of the veldt, had developed into valiant campaigners.
They were always ready to be up and doing, and gladly fell in with
the Colonel’s plans. Frequent reconnaissances had disclosed the
fact that the enemy’s position, though strong on the western face,
was fairly vulnerable at a point on the east, and at this point it was
decided an attack on the morning of the 26th should be directed.

The plan of attack was as follows:—Captain R. Vernon, King’s
Royal Rifles, with C Squadron, and Captain FitzClarence and D
Squadron, to lead; Captain Lord Charles Bentinck, with A Squadron,
to hold the reserve upon the left, which was under the command of
Colonel Hore. Major Panzera and the artillery were to take up a
position upon the extreme left of the line. The railway running to
within a few hundred yards of Game Tree had been repaired, in
order that the armoured train, under Captain Williams and twenty
men of the British South Africa Police, with one-pounder Hotchkiss
and Maxim, from a point parallel with Game Tree, might protect
the right flank. This flank was to be further supported by Captain
Cowan and seventy men of the Bechuanaland Rifles. The entire
operations from this side were to be under the command of Major
Godley, while Colonel Baden-Powell and his staff, Major Lord
Edward Cecil (Chief Staff Officer), Captain Wilson, A.D.C., and
Lieutenant Hanbury Tracy watched the direction of events from
Dummie Fort.

CRONJE’S FORCE ON THEIR MARCH SOUTH.

Drawing by Sidney Paget, from a Sketch made 8 Miles South of Paardeberg by W. B. Wollen, R.I.

It must be remembered that at that time the character of the
fort they intended to assail was barely known. In reality, it rose[Pg 81]
some seven feet above a ditch deep and wide, which almost defied
assault. However, it was decided that Game Tree, from which
had poured voluble rifle and artillery fire for many weeks, must at
all hazards be silenced. It was most important that communication
with the north should be, if possible, re-established, and there was
every hope that a successful fight might make it easier for Colonel
Plumer to eventually join hands with the besieged.

The night passed. As the grey dawn broke over the veldt, a
flash weirdly orange and a golden puff of smoke showed that the
preconcerted plan had begun to be put in operation. Major Panzera
with his seven-pounders had started the programme. Presently the
Maxim rapped out in chorus, while on the right the great dusty
crocodile, the armoured train, slunk along to its destination. Its
whistle shrieked. It was Captain Vernon’s signal for action. On
the instant a thin line of moving kharki broke from cover, bayonets
glittered among the scrub, cheers and the rattle of musketry filled
the air. Officers and men were dashing, as only Britons can dash,
each striving to outrush the other towards the lair of the enemy.
Quick as thought they had plunged into the scrub that girdled the
sandbags, and excitedly, jubilantly, some one on Dummie Fort sang
out, “They are swarming over the bags—the position is ours!”

All waited anxiously, almost breathlessly. The moments grew
and grew, seconds became years. The sputtering of rifles continued,
and swelled into a vast hum, and then some one—the same some
one, only in a very different voice from that which spoke last, said
hoarsely, “Our men are coming back!”… Yes. They were indeed
coming back—the remnant—firing sullenly their parting shots
ere they receded. The enemy’s position had been proved impregnable!
Their parapet was loopholed in triple tiers and roofed with
a bomb-proof protection. It had but a single opening, large enough
to admit one man at a time. It was in firing his revolver into one of
the loopholes and endeavouring to pull out a sandbag with his left
hand that Lieutenant Paton was killed. Captain FitzClarence, far
ahead of his men, was shot in the thigh within 150 yards of the
fort, and both Captains Sandford and Vernon were laid low almost
within a stone’s throw of the rifles of the enemy. Lieutenant Swinburne,
who, directly Captain FitzClarence was wounded, led his men
forward with dauntless energy, escaped unhurt. But few were equally
lucky. Out of a storming party of eighty, twenty-one were killed
and thirty-three wounded. It was when he saw this useless sacrifice
of life that Major Godley sent a message to headquarters
by the aide-de-camp. “Captain Vernon, sir, has been repulsed,” he
said, “and Major Godley does not think it worth while trying again.”
Nor was it. All that could be done was to send the ambulance to
perform its grim duty.[Pg 82]

In describing the tragic affair, Mr. Angus Hamilton, in Black
and White, said: “Indeed, from the armoured train it could be
seen that the progress of the men towards the fort was like the
Charge of the Six Hundred into the Valley of Death—a conviction
which became more and more apparent as our men gallantly held to
their course. Within 300 yards of the fort it was almost impossible
for any living thing to exist, and the rush of the bullets across the
zone of fire was like the hum of myriads of locusts before the wind.
The gallantry of the effort, the admirable steadiness and precision
with which the attack was delivered, has been compared by our
commanding officers to deeds which rank among the foremost of our
martial chronicles.”

It was veritably a charge of heroes. Scarcely one man could
be singled out as the bravest of the brave where all showed such
magnificent courage. Captain Sandford, Indian Staff Corps, though
wounded mortally by a bullet in the spine, with his last breath
ordered his men to continue their advance and leave him to his
fate. Captain FitzClarence, wounded in the leg, bleeding, exhausted,
was seen sitting up and directing the charge. Elsewhere
was Captain Vernon, with a bullet through him, rushing on and on
in company with the heroic youth, Paton, whose effort to scale the
inaccessible rampart brought about his death. This splendid fellow
was shot through the heart; while Captain Vernon, who had again
been hit, and still pursued his onward course into the teeth of the
foe, was struck on the head and killed. The only other officer that
escaped uninjured was Lieutenant Bridges, and he hurt his ankle
while assisting a wounded comrade. The details of the killed and
wounded were as follows:—Officers killed, three; wounded, one.
Men killed, eighteen; wounded, thirty-two; missing, thirteen. Thus
ended a superb effort, which, failure though it was, was vastly superior
to many a meaner martial success.

So the garrison had to go on in the old, old way, though
many popular and beloved members were now missing, and the
hospital was full of cases that threatened to end seriously. Owing
to the commendable forethought of Lord Edward Cecil and
the enterprise of Messrs. Julius Weil, the garrison was provided
with the wherewithal to make what resistance they did. Lord
Edward Cecil’s work was ceaseless; as Chief Staff Officer he came
in for both the external fights and the internal discords. He
smoothed down quarrels, dispensed justice, allayed “siege fever” in
all its intermittent phases, and in fact performed the tasks of ten
men, with unfailing courtesy and inexhaustible patience. The pinch
of the siege had gradually become more painful, and luxuries for
some time had been commandeered for the use of the sick. Luckily,
some Chinamen among the besieged contrived to grow vegetables[Pg 83]
in small quantities for the use of the inhabitants, and by force of
good management in the disposal of the food supplies, which had
been stocked by Messrs. Weil before the outbreak of the war, a
fixed scale of rations for every man, woman, and child was secured.
Conversation grew monotonous. It circled round the positions of
the guns, the chance of relief, and question of stores, till it produced a
mental giddiness that verged on the idiotic. Few grumbled, few
swore. In this matter the Boers acted as a safety-valve. When
people felt in the “something’s too bad of somebody” mood, they
could go out and snipe, and vent their spleen usefully and to the
honour of their country! Sundays were more than ever flat. There
was not the excitement attendant on dodging shells in the open.
Speculation on the subject of food languished round the limitations
of Hobson’s choice. Mr. Neilly in the Pall Mall Gazette gave a
sorry outline of the scanty fare. “I will attempt to give you an idea
of what this scarcity of diet means. You are in a trench. In the
early morning you have handed to you a piece of bread as big as a
breakfast roll and a little tin of ‘bully’ sufficient for one average
meal. You have some of it for breakfast, and if you have not an
iron will you will eat the lot there and then, and go hungry for the
rest of the twenty-four hours. What you leave is kept in the broiling
sun until luncheon-time, when you find the beef reduced to an
oily mess that does not look very appetising. You eat more and
tighten your belt a hole or two to delude yourself into the belief
that you have had a satisfying meal. You roast away again until
dinner-time, when you gather up the last crumb and sigh for a few
hours in the Adelaide Gallery or even in an East-End cookshop.
But this is not all; you are for guard duty from midnight until
3 A.M. You have no sleep before you go on, and the slumber you
fall into when relieved is destroyed an hour after you have entered
upon it by the morning order to stand to arms. You thus get a
schoolboy’s luncheon to keep you alive for twenty-four hours. It
is made unpalatable by the sun, and if a Mafeking shower falls, the
odds are that it will be flooded over and buried in the mud at the
bottom of the trench.”

At this time Cronje, by way of recreation, returned to Mafeking,
a fleeting visit, possibly to test some novel plans for the purpose of
subduing the town. He came armed with incendiary shells, which
were supposed to hit and blaze up and cause an inspiriting conflagration.
But they did not succeed. They caused a conflagration
certainly, but its duration was limited. At the end of it, Mafeking
smiled still, but smiled with the curled lip of scorn. The convent,
notwithstanding its symbol of the Red Cross, had been hit, and
crushed, and wrecked; the hospital had been assailed; the sacred
claim of humanity had been outraged; women and children had[Pg 84]
been subjected to terrors of fact and terrors of dread. These
atrocities continued, and Her Majesty’s long-suffering subjects looked
on and waited; they believed that deliverance must soon come.
If they had not had that belief to help them, they would have
died or surrendered. They believed that a day of reckoning would
arrive, and that then Cronje and his diabolical hirelings would
come by their deserts. If only they could have skipped six weeks
and looked into the mirror of Fate, the drama at Paardeberg Drift
would have reassured them. As it was, they had to live in faith.
The series of atrocities that marked the Boer assaults had scarcely
a counterpart in modern history, and it grew doubtful, if ever their
turn should come, whether the besieged would be prevailed upon
to emit one spark of that “magnanimity” with which their countrymen
had been so lavish, and which the Boer had grown to account
as a natural weakness of these “verdomde rooineks.”

Siege life was now becoming painfully irksome. A blazing sun,
a drenching rain, a gust of wind through the pepper trees, this
was all the variety at hand. The inhabitants of the town began
to feel like ghosts of themselves, ghouls walking the earth, yet out
of touch with those who spoke of them as a memory, and nothing
more. To them it was the quiet of the grave. They waited like some
enchanted princess of a fairy tale for the time when the magic wand
should wave and their pulses throb with joy and excitation, with
laughter and zest for the good things of the hour. Now they
walked as in a dream to the accompaniment of shot and shell, surrounded
by devilish ogres and looters of the dead, while somewhere
within a few miles of them, kith and kin, living and breathing kith
and kin, seemed as phantoms in a nightmare to pass by and to
ignore! A speechless, soundless asphyxia of the soul seemed to
be creeping over these tired patient heroes! They still waited and
hoped, but hoping and waiting had now grown monotonous, almost
mechanical, as the tickings of an eight-day clock.

Rumours many and fantastic were brought in by the natives.
It was believed that a new year’s gift of three waggon loads of
ammunition had been received by the Boers from Pretoria, and also
a new gun. This weapon it was afterwards discovered was provided
with more combustible bombs, horrible missiles that disgorge a
chemical liquid which ignites in contact with the air. Here was
a continual horror, and one that was only combated by extreme
precautions. Though Colonel Baden-Powell in his nook on the
stoep of his house continued to whistle his insouciant notes, his
busy brains needed to be Machiavellian in their ingenuity. Some
declared he slept with one eye open; others, that he never slept
at all. Certain it was that when all were hushed in slumber he
was “on the prowl,” either on the roof or in the open, reading from[Pg 85]
the heavens above or the earth beneath the enemy’s approaching
machinations. Some find sermons in stones; B.-P. found inspiration
in sand and sky.

The Market Square, Mafeking.

[Pg 86]The Boers continued their bombardment, the sun continued to
blaze, to smite the tin roofs and glaring sandy roads. After persistently
directing shells on the women’s laager the ruffians succeeded in
murdering three little children. These were of Dutch nationality,
and it was hoped that their loss might possibly awaken a feeling
of humanity and remorse in the breast of those who had prompted
the assault on the defenceless position. But their conduct was
rendering those within the town exasperated almost to madness.
They panted for a chance to mete out annihilation to the blood-lusting
rascals and untamed savages who were harassing them.
They did their best, and sat down to the business of clearing off
as many as possible of the polyglot horde who worked the guns.

The work done by the Bechuanaland Rifles and the British
South Africa Police was prodigious. They shrunk from no toil
and no exposure so that they might reduce the number of the
besiegers. Early in the New Year the Rifles entrenched themselves
within 900 yards of the enemy’s big guns, and spent days
and nights in the trenches, relieved at intervals by the Police.
From nine on one night till nine the next they would occupy their
unenviable position, carrying with them their day’s food and water,
and employing themselves during the hours of light by keeping
up a persistent fire on the Boer siege gun. On occasions their fire
was so accurate that the Dutchmen had entirely to abandon the
work of loading and training the gun. So smart, at last, grew the
British sharpshooters, that during each Sabbath the gun was shifted
farther and farther away.

Colonel Baden-Powell’s resourcefulness was again put to the
test, and was again triumphant. The Boers were somewhat nonplussed
by the discovery that he had a new weapon of defence.
They put their heads together and concluded that the weapon must
have sprung from the bowels of the earth. It so happened that in
some long-forgotten stores in the town an old ship’s gun was suddenly
discovered. Quickly it was brought into action. But the
ways of this old muzzle-loading 16-pounder were not as the ways
of the modern “Long Toms,” whose tricks were “understanded”
of the Boer people. It had curious and distinctive virtues of its
own. This gun threw solid shot, which, unlike a shell that bursts
and is done with for better or for worse, gallivanted along the
ground according to its own sweet will, and produced little surprises
that caused the Colonel much amusement and not a little satisfaction.

Gun made in Mafeking.

Photo by D. Taylor, Mafeking.

The biography of the treasure-trove was written by Mr. Angus[Pg 87]
Hamilton of Black and White, who declared that there was quite a
flutter of excitement at the appearance of the antiquated weapon.
“It would seem,” he said, “to have been made about 1770, and
is identical with those which up till very recently adorned the
quay at Portsmouth. Its weight is 8 cwt. 2 qr. 10 lbs., and it was
made by B. P. & Co. It is a naval gun, and is stamped ‘No. 6
port.’ How it came here is uncertain, and its origin unknown;
but one gathers that it must have been intended more for privateering
than for use in any Government ship of war, since it is wanting
in all official superscription. This weapon, which we have now
christened ‘B. P.’ out of a compliment to the Colonel, has been
lying upon the farm of an Englishman whose interests are very
closely united with the native tribe whose headquarters are in
Mafeking Stadt. Mr. Rowlands can recall the gun passing this
way in charge of two Germans nearly forty years ago. He remembers
to have seen it in the possession of Linchwe’s tribe, and
upon his return to the Baralongs, after one of his trading journeys,
he urged the old chief to secure it for use in defence of the Stadt
against the attacks of Dutch freebooters. The chief then visited
Linchwe and bought the gun for twenty-two oxen, bringing it down
to Mafeking upon his waggon. In those days it had three hundred
rounds of ammunition, which were utilised in tribal fights. With
the exception of visits which the gun made to local tribes, it has
remained here, and is now in the possession of Mr. Rowlands. It[Pg 88]
has recently been mounted, and is in active operation against our
enemies. We have made balls for it, and are intending to manufacture
shells, in the hope we shall at least be able to reach the
emplacement of Big Ben. The first trial of ‘B. P.’ in its new
career gave very satisfactory results. With two pounds of powder
it threw a ball of ten pounds more than two thousand yards. The
power of the charge was increased by half pounds until a charge of
three pounds threw a ball of the same weight as the first rather
more than two miles. We, therefore, have pinned our hopes upon
it, and commend to the responsible authorities the reflections which
may be derived from the fact that our chief and most efficient means
of defence lie in such a weapon.”

The mosquito tactics of the wily Colonel proceeded as usual,
but the Boer was hard to checkmate. On the 15th of January an
attack was made by the sharpshooters against the enemy’s big gun
battery, with the pleasing result that on the following day the
94-pounder and high-velocity Krupp evacuated their positions, and
retired to a more distant one on the east side of the town, whence
their command of the place was comparatively limited. In this
quarter, now that the foe was pushed out of rifle range, it was
possible to open grazing for cattle, a very desirable movement, for
the poor lean beasts were waning rapidly. At this time Captain
FitzClarence was reported among the convalescents, the wound
received on the 26th of December having almost healed.

Preparations were set on foot for the purpose of routing the
enemy with dynamite, failing all other means of ridding the town
of his too intimate proximity. Colonel Baden-Powell’s motto, unlike
that of British Governments, was to take time by the forelock.
He left nothing to chance. In order to avert any risk of
running short of supplies, rations were reduced, and oats which had
previously belonged to the beasts were promoted to the use of their
owners. Very stringent laws existed for the economising of everything.
Matches and tinned milk were commandeered, and the theft
of a matchbox was now viewed as a heinous crime. Tobacco in
small quantities remained, but wines and spirits were fast running
out. There were pathetic leave-takings as each quart of whisky
disappeared from the stores; there was no knowing when would
arrive the hour for a fond and a last farewell. Conversation grew
still more monotonous. It mostly consisted of how the inner man
should be sustained, and of anecdotes of agility in avoiding shot
and shell.

WEST YORKSHIRE REGIMENT (Colour-Sergeant).

YORKSHIRE REGIMENT (Sergeant).

Photo by Gregory & Co., London.

Still, considerable interest was taken in the performances of the
old 16-pounder, which had been rigged up and christened by some
“Skipping Polly,” on account of its skittish habits and its propensity
to ricochet. This, though erratic in its proceedings, did good work,[Pg 89]
and struck the parapet of the enemy’s fort. On the 10th of January
violent rains came down, and rendered most of the trenches in front
of the town uninhabitable, and life in general almost unendurable.
Never was there greater need for the inestimable virtues of pluck and
patience, and if medals had been awarded for these united qualities,
the inhabitants of Mafeking would all have possessed them.

The pinch of siege life now became terribly evident, for the
Kaffirs were reduced to eating mules. The British feared their turn
at this diet would come directly. But the garrison was still cheery,
and their entrenchments were considerably improved. In these
Colonel Baden-Powell took a just pride, and his activity in promoting
the safety and comfort of the inhabitants was boundless.
They declared that they could feed themselves for another three
months, but the nature of the form of provision was not divulged.
Hardships and privations were endured by the little force with
really amazing pluck. Beds they had scarcely enjoyed since the
commencement of the siege; baths were almost as foreign, few had
had a chance to remove their clothes; and news—the stimulus of
the outside world—was entirely lacking. Letters now and then
were passed out, but the real truth could never be trusted to black
and white.

The office of censor was undertaken by the Hon. A. H. Hanbury
Tracy (Royal Horse Guards). His occupation was a hard
and a thankless one, for constant vigilance had to be exercised
lest reports concerning the inner state of Mafeking—reports most
ardently craved by those interested at home—might fall into the
hands of the enemy, and thus cramp the operations of Colonel
Baden-Powell and those who helped him to present a bold and
fearless front to the hovering hordes who were waiting smugly for
what they believed to be the inevitable.

On the 17th General Snyman bethought himself of a new way
of starving the garrison into surrender. He sent a party of natives
to enjoy the hospitality of the already sparsely fed town. It had
not a mule to spare for extra Kaffirs, and Colonel Baden-Powell
sternly though regretfully refused admittance to the new-comers.
According to Boer usage, the officer and orderly who conveyed the
message, notwithstanding the fact that they carried a white flag,
were fired upon by the enemy while they were returning. A dastardly
trick this, and the garrison resented it.

At this time the news of the grand Ladysmith sortie was received
with rejoicings, and the bellicose youngsters of the community began
to rack fertile brains in hope to emulate the courage and dash of the
sister garrison. On this day a shell hit the shelter occupied by Major
Baillie and Mr. Stent, Reuter’s correspondent, and portions crashed
through Dixon’s Hotel, but fortunately without injuring any one.[Pg 90]

News now reached the benighted villagers that Colonel Plumer,
with three armoured trains, had actually reached Gaberones, some
three hundred miles north of Mafeking. The troops had some
sharp tussles with the Boers, and drove them out of rifle range while
the railway operatives mended the line. Where Colonel Plumer’s
three trains came from was a mystery. He was known to have one,
but there was no saying of what Rhodesia might not be capable in
time of stress. Colonel Plumer had his work cut out for him, but
he was not a man to sheer off difficult tasks, and there was intense
hope that he might succeed. But there was always the Boer artillery—a
terrible barrier between the relieving force and Mafeking—and
in the face of this even the finest warriors, almost gunless, could
scarcely be expected to advance alive.

On the 19th of January the small community celebrated the
100th day of the siege. All the corners of the square had been
knocked off by the ever-active Boers, but the village maintained a
suitable air of liveliness. Exhibitions were arranged, and some
smart fighting showed that the right arm of the British had lost none
of its cunning.

There were fat days and lean days in Mafeking. Though for
the most part leanness prevailed, there was now and then to be
found an oasis in the desert of the commissariat. Occasionally
some successful raid made by the natives was productive of real
meals—succulent beef versus old mule and husks. In the course of
one daring foray the natives secured two dozen head of cattle; in
another they carried off prizes of fat kine to the tune of a score.
The excursions took place under cover of darkness, and, like all
raids, were pursued without the consent of the Government. The
natives had a process peculiarly their own in seducing the fat kine
to follow them home. Devoid of clothing, and crawling snake-like
over the veldt, they would approach the grazing cattle and gradually
draw off such beasts as appeared goodly in their eyes, and which had
been previously marked down with the acuteness of hungry instinct.
Noiselessly the animals were enticed on and on till they reached the
precincts of the staadt, where the raiders were anxiously looked for
by their Baralong friends. These famishing individuals greeted the
successful capture of the wherewithal to maintain life with shouts
and dances of joy.

The garrison was soon put on a scale of still more reduced
rations. These consisted of half a pound of meat and the same
of bread daily. The luxuries of life—the people in England looked
on them as necessaries!—tea, sugar, biscuits, jams, &c., were commandeered.
In January the following housekeeper’s notes were
made by the correspondent of the Times:—“Meal and flour have
jumped from 27s. per bag to 50s.; potatoes, where they exist at[Pg 91]
all, are £2 per cwt.; fowls are 7s. 6d. each; and eggs 12s. per
dozen. Milk and vegetables can no longer be obtained, and rice
has taken the place of the latter upon the menus. These figures
mark the rise in the more important food-stuffs as sold across the
counter, but the hotels have, in sympathy, followed the example,
they upon their part attributing it to the increase which the wholesale
merchants have decreed. A peg of whisky is 1s. 6d., dop
brandy 1s., gin 1s., large stout is 4s., small beer 2s. In ordinary
times whisky retails at 5s. per bottle. This rate has now advanced
to 18s. per bottle and 80s. per case. Dop, which is usually 1s. 4d.,
is now 12s. per bottle; the difference upon beer is almost 200 per
cent., and inferior cigarettes are now 18s. per 100.”

On the good management of the contractors, Messrs. Weil &
Co., every one depended for flesh and blood. On them rested
the responsibility of issuing daily rations—bread and meat for the
garrison, forage for horses, and food for natives—and very excellently
they fulfilled their difficult task.

On the 21st an unusual sort of show was held. The exhibits
ranged from foals to babies, Mr. Minchin (Bechuanaland Rifles)
securing first prize for the former, while Sergeant Brady, B.S.A.P.,
was the proud winner of the prize for the latter.

Colonel Baden-Powell sent a despatch reporting his own doings
at the end of January to Colonel Nicholson. It ran as follows:—

“Inform the Commanding Staff Officer that we are well here. On January
23 the enemy moved their north-east supporting laager to within 4500 yards
of the town. We pushed our advance works in that direction, and mounted
Lord Nelson, an old naval smooth-bore gun, in an emplacement 3100 yards
from the enemy. On the evening of January 29 we unmasked our guns and
shelled the enemy’s camp with complete success. Next morning the Boer
laager was moved back two miles.

“On the 31st we were busy on all sides of the town. On the south the men
in our advance works had a skirmish with three of the enemy’s Krupp and
Maxim guns, the firing being very heavy. A bombardment of our front on
Cannon Kopje by the Boer 94-pounder followed. On the east front our four
guns replied to this by a concentrated fire on the brickfield entrenchments,
where the enemy poured in a musketry and artillery fire.

“On the north the enemy’s 5-pounders kept up a steady fire. They
dropped one shell through the roof of the hospital, but luckily it did not
explode. On the west the enemy, from their advanced works, opened a heavy
rifle and Maxim fire on Fort Ayr, which our fort eventually silenced by the
well-aimed fire of its guns. The enemy sent three big shells into the town
after dark, but they gained nothing during the day.

“Our casualties during the past two days from the enemy’s shell fire have
been three killed and three wounded. Mr. Kiddy, of the Railway Department,
has died of fever.

“On February 2 General Snyman, in reply to my letter with regard to his
deliberately shelling the women and children’s laagers on the 27th ult., offered
no excuse or apology, and by a transparent falsehood practically admits that[Pg 92]
he ordered it. I have told him that I have now established temporary premises
for the Boer prisoners in the women’s laager and in the hospital, in order to
protect these places from deliberate shelling.”

General Snyman and Colonel Baden-Powell had also a correspondence
regarding Snyman’s arming and raising of natives. In
reply the old commandant said that he had merely armed the
natives as cattle-guards. In his turn he complained that the British
had been seen making fortifications on Sunday. The Colonel, who
only relaid some mine wires, informed him that he had himself
been entertained by watching the building of new fortifications by
the Boers on that day.

On the 25th of January a shell burst through the convent,
which was used as a convalescent hospital, and slightly wounded
Lady Sarah Wilson, who had taken upon herself the care of the
invalids. On the following day the women’s laager was continuously
shelled, but fortunately with small result. There was general
jubilation at reports received regarding the success of Lord Roberts’
operations. The news was an immense stimulus, and speculation
as to the date of relief was freely indulged in. The besieged had
learnt to gather hope from the smallest incidents. The disappearance
from time to time of the 5-pounder Krupp, the 1-pounder
Maxim, the 9-pounder quick-firing Creusot, which had a trick of
making weekly excursions somewhere—caused them to conjecture
whether Colonel Plumer had reached a point where these pieces
could be made to come in handy. The 100-pounder Creusot, however,
was untiring. It engaged only in shorter peregrinations,
moving from one emplacement to another by way of variety, and
keeping up a system of torture which acted badly on the nerves of
the unhappy persons who were honoured with its attentions.

The following telegram, forwarded by runner from the Mayor
of Mafeking (Mr. Whiteley), was addressed to Queen Victoria:
“Mafeking upon the hundredth day of siege sends loyal devotion
to your Majesty, and assurance of continued resolve to
maintain your Majesty’s supremacy in this town.” The splendid
little garrison had indeed a right to be proud of itself for
having for so long a period held at bay a puissant and spiteful
foe. It had fought, it had schemed, it had set its wits against the
wits of Cronje and his successors, and defied them magnificently.
“No surrender” was its motto, and the reply from the enemy was
stamped on every house of this minute town—so minute that it could
have been “stowed within the railings of St. James’ Park”—and
scribbled in large black defacing lines wherever shot and shell
could penetrate. Some idea of life’s daily accompaniment of
artillery may be arrived at by reading a description of his experiences
recounted by Mr. Neilly of the Pall Mall Gazette. He[Pg 93]
said:—“When the enemy’s artillery began to send us the heavy
ration, those who knew most about the power of modern long-range
high-velocity arms dreaded most the consequences. At the
advice of our commander-in-chief, we went to earth, some into dug-outs,
I, with others, into the wine-cellar of the hotel, which I
consider was the most comfortable and luxurious place in the town.
After breakfast a twelve-pounder on the heights went ‘Boom!’
Where had the shell gone? Had it struck a house? Had the
building collapsed? Would the town be flattened and set on fire
when the whole battery came into action? We speculated so until
the second boom sounded, and the third quickly followed. Himmel!
We had got it, and what a crash it was! Something had given
way, and débris and shrapnel scattered like a hailstorm across the
dining-room floor overhead. While some calmed the ladies, others
of us doubled up through the trapdoor, slid the panel that divides
the bar from the dining-room, and looked in. The dense smoke of
the bursting charge filled the place, but there was nothing to indicate
that anything was aflame. When the air cleared slightly we
entered, to find the floor and tables littered with brick-dust and
scrap iron; but the area of destruction was confined to the brickwork
at the side of the window. Nothing was stirred upon the
tables, which were laid for luncheon. That was enough. Had the
house been built of good tough English brick, its flank would have
probably collapsed; the rottenness of the walls had saved them; the
rottenness of all the houses would bring about comparative safety to
the town. Solids struck by shell add to the destruction wrought by
the projectile through flying splinters; but there is no use in trying
to batter sand stuck together with water. The concussion sends off
the detonator, the burst makes a hole in the wall, and the further
results are an untidied room and a bad fright to anybody who may
be in it.”

The writer, like the rest of the plucky crew, talked airily of the
ordeal that all passed through, without a single boast of the splendid
effect of the garrison’s doughty resistance to the enemy in the early
phases of the war.

It is scarcely possible to exaggerate the full importance of this
magnificent defence at that time. As an object-lesson in British
pluck, and the marvellous celerity with which peace-loving citizens
may become glorious fighters, the defence as a whole stands without
parallel. But from a political point of view the initial stoutness of
the resistance was a coup which had far-reaching results.

There is no doubt that at the outset of the war a conspiracy
was on foot between the Cape Dutch and the Federals,
and that the capture of certain towns was to be taken as a
signal for the joining of the allies to drive the British from South[Pg 94]
Africa. It was thought that the apparently insignificant village
of Mafeking would be among the first to fall, and the conspirators
congratulated themselves that once the place went under, the
door to Rhodesia would fly open. The gallant Cronje, with nothing
better to occupy him, could have worked his way north, attacked
Colonel Plumer and his small force, and without doubt defeated
them. He would then have proceeded on a triumphal march.
Having intimidated the natives, who invariably back the man with
the visible biceps, and having armed the Matabele and Mashonas,
he would have completely swept and devastated the fair country of
the Colossus before our troops could have had time to save it from
ruin. How far the ruin would have spread it is difficult to say.
Like dynamite, it would have struck upwards and downwards,
north and south. The capture of Mafeking would have unhinged
the native population there, and forced them to side with the
Boers; and once the natives got under arms the situation would
have become so complicated that it might have taken years to
unravel, if indeed the Government had the patience to unravel
it at all.

Then disaffection would have spread rapidly, even to Table Bay.
Had Cronje at the outset not been kept tied to the place, occupied
in trying to crack the nut which he eventually found too hard for
his own teeth and for the sledge-hammer weapons of his mercenaries,
he would have gone on from town to town gathering up adherents
as he went, and causing intimidation of such a kind that even the
loyally disposed would in sheer self-defence have thrown in their lot
with him.

[Pg 95]

CHAPTER III

AT POPLAR GROVE

Before going on, it must be noted that on the 19th Lord
Roberts had issued a proclamation to the Burghers of the
Free State in English and Dutch. He said that the
British having entered the Free State, he felt it his duty
to make known the cause, and to do his utmost to end the
war. Should the Free Staters continue fighting, they would do so
in full knowledge of their responsibility for the lives lost in the
campaign. Before the war, the Imperial Government desired the
friendship of the Free State, and solemnly assured President Steyn
that if he remained neutral the Free State territory would not be
invaded and its independence would be respected. Nevertheless,
the Free Staters had wantonly and unjustifiably invaded British
territory, though the Imperial Government believed that the Free
State Government was wholly responsible, under mischievous outside
influence, for this invasion.

The Imperial Government bore the people no ill-will, and was
anxious to preserve them from the evils which the action of their
Government had caused. Lord Roberts warned the Burghers to
desist from further hostilities, and he undertook that Burghers so
desisting should not suffer in their persons or property. Requisitions
of food, forage, fuel, and shelter must be complied with. Everything
would be paid for on the spot, and if supplies were refused they
would be taken, a receipt being given. Should the inhabitants consider
that they had been unjustly treated, and should their complaint
on inquiry be substantiated, redress would be given. In conclusion,
Lord Roberts stated that British soldiers were prohibited from
entering houses or molesting the civil population.

By the terms of this proclamation it was necessary to abide,
though, by degrees, as will be seen, it began to be discovered that
generous concessions made to our enemies were misinterpreted and
taken advantage of in ways which tended to prolong the war.

Lords Roberts and Kitchener paid a flying visit to Kimberley
on the 1st of March, and attended a crowded meeting in the Town
Hall. Lord Roberts, with his usual grace, dwelt on the courage,
endurance, and heroism exhibited by the troops and residents, not
only in Kimberley, but in the other besieged towns.

Cronje’s fate being sealed, the Field-Marshal shifted his head[Pg 96]quarters
to Osfontein, seven miles up the Modder from Paardeberg.
Near here it was rumoured that such Boers as had failed to come to
the succour of Cronje had flocked. These, numbering some 10,000,
had gathered at the summons of their chief from the regions round
Stormberg, Colesberg, and Ladysmith, and were now busily entrenching
a position some fifteen miles long. Of this the flanks
rested on kopjes to the south of the river on a group called Seven
Sisters, and to the north across the river on a flat-topped kopje,
behind which were further fortified kopjes, forming a formidable
position at Poplar Grove, a place so called because of a sparse display
of poplar and Australian gum-trees in the vicinity.

At this time the two Presidents of the Republics, finding things
getting too hot to be comfortable, made magnanimous proposals
for peace. The following is the text of their despatch.

“Bloemfontein, March 5, 1900.

“The blood and the tears of the thousands who have suffered by this war,
and the prospect of all the moral and economic ruin with which South Africa
is now threatened, make it necessary for both belligerents to ask themselves
dispassionately, and as in the sight of the Triune God, for what they are
fighting, and whether the aim of each justifies all this appalling misery and
devastation.

“With this object, and in view of the assertions of various British statesmen,
to the effect that this war was begun and is being carried on with the
set purpose of undermining Her Majesty’s authority in South Africa, and of
setting up an Administration over all South Africa independent of Her Majesty’s
Government, we consider it our duty solemnly to declare that this war was
undertaken solely as a defensive measure to safeguard the threatened independence
of the South African Republic, and is only continued in order to secure
and safeguard the incontestable independence of both Republics as sovereign
international States, and to obtain the assurance that those of Her Majesty’s
subjects who have taken part with us in this war shall suffer no harm whatsoever
in person or property.

“On these conditions, but on these conditions alone, are we now, as in the
past, desirous of seeing peace re-established in South Africa, and of putting an
end to the evils now reigning over South Africa; while, if Her Majesty’s Government
is determined to destroy the independence of the Republics, there is
nothing left to us and to our people but to persevere to the end in the course
already begun, in spite of the overwhelming pre-eminence of the British Empire,
confident that that God who lighted the unextinguishable fire of the love of
freedom in the hearts of ourselves and of our fathers will not forsake us, but
will accomplish His work in us and in our descendants.

“We hesitated to make this declaration earlier to your Excellency, as we
feared that as long as the advantage was always on our side, and as long as our
forces held defensive positions far in Her Majesty’s Colonies, such a declaration
might hurt the feelings of honour of the British people; but now that the
prestige of the British Empire may be considered to be assured by the capture
of one of our forces by Her Majesty’s troops, and that we are thereby forced to
evacuate other positions which our forces had occupied, that difficulty is over,
and we can no longer hesitate clearly to inform your Government and people, in[Pg 97]
the sight of the whole civilised world, why we are fighting, and on what conditions
we are ready to restore peace.”

SHELL FROM THE NAVAL BRIGADE DISPERSING BOERS FROM BEHIND THE SEVEN SISTERS KOPJES, DURING THE
ACTION OF 7th MARCH AT LE GALLAIS KOPJE, NEAR OSFONTEIN.

Drawing by Sidney Paget, from a Sketch by W. B. Wollen, R.I.

The answer to this effusion, addressed by Lord Salisbury on
behalf of Her Majesty’s Government to the Presidents, ran:—

“Foreign Office, March 11, 1900.

“I have the honour to acknowledge your Honours’ telegram, dated March 5,
from Bloemfontein, of which the purport is principally to demand that Her
Majesty’s Government shall recognise the ‘incontestable independence’ of the
South African Republic and Orange Free State as ‘sovereign international
States,’ and to offer, on those terms, to bring the war to a conclusion.

“In the beginning of October last, peace existed between Her Majesty and
the two Republics under the Conventions which then were in existence. A
discussion had been proceeding for some months between Her Majesty’s Government
and the South African Republic, of which the object was to obtain redress
for certain very serious grievances under which British residents in the South
African Republic were suffering. In the course of these negotiations, the South
African Republic had, to the knowledge of Her Majesty’s Government, made
considerable armaments, and the latter had, consequently, taken steps to provide
corresponding reinforcements to the British garrisons of Cape Town and Natal.
No infringement of the rights guaranteed by the Conventions had, up to that
point, taken place on the British side. Suddenly, at two days’ notice, the South
African Republic, after issuing an insulting ultimatum, declared war upon Her
Majesty; and the Orange Free State, with whom there had not even been any
discussion, took a similar step. Her Majesty’s dominions were immediately
invaded by the two Republics, siege was laid to three towns within the British
frontier, a large portion of the two Colonies was overrun, with great destruction
to property and life, and the Republics claimed to treat the inhabitants of extensive
portions of Her Majesty’s dominions as if those dominions had been
annexed to one or other of them. In anticipation of these operations the South
African Republic had been accumulating for many years past military stores on
an enormous scale, which, by their character, could only have been intended for
use against Great Britain.

“Your Honours make some observations of a negative character upon the
object with which these preparations were made. I do not think it necessary
to discuss the questions you have raised. But the result of these preparations,
carried on with great secrecy, has been that the British Empire has been compelled
to confront an invasion which has entailed upon the Empire a costly war
and the loss of thousands of precious lives. This great calamity has been the
penalty which Great Britain has suffered for having in recent years acquiesced
in the existence of the two Republics.

“In view of the use to which the two Republics have put the position which
was given to them, and the calamities which their unprovoked attack has inflicted
upon Her Majesty’s dominions, Her Majesty’s Government can only answer
your Honours’ telegram by saying that they are not prepared to assent to the
independence either of the South African Republic or of the Orange Free State.”

To return to Osfontein. There was now a short and much-needed
interval of repose, in which men and horses tried to recuperate.
It was, however, necessary for the cavalry to be continually
scouring the country to ascertain the whereabouts of the enemy.[Pg 98]

On the 6th of March Lord Roberts welcomed the Ceylon
Mounted Infantry, and sent the following telegram to Sir West
Ridgeway, Governor of Ceylon:—“I have just ridden out to meet
Ceylon Mounted Infantry, and welcome them to this force. They
look most workmanlike, and are a valuable addition to Her Majesty
the Queen’s army in South Africa.” These troops were in excellent
condition, so also were their handy Burma ponies, smart, knowing,
and game little beasts, warranted to turn on a sixpence and stand
any amount of wear and tear.

On the same day the Colonials had a smart set-to with the
Dutchmen, who were endeavouring to locate themselves in the
vicinity, and the New Zealanders and Australians made themselves
more than a match for the Boers, losing themselves only six wounded,
while they put ten of the enemy out of action. The rest of the gang
disappeared, on the principle of those who fight and run away live
to fight another day. In fact, they moved to some strong eminences
that commanded either side of the river, the centre of the position
being at Poplar Grove Farm. Here the Federals thought to
embarrass the British advance, but Lord Roberts decided to undeceive
them. The Field-Marshal’s plan was now to turn their
left flank with the cavalry division, and then to meet their line of
defence with the infantry divisions, and thus enclose them as Cronje
had been enclosed.

Accordingly the troops got themselves into battle array. The
Naval Brigade brought their 4.7 guns four miles north-east of
Osfontein, while the cavalry prepared to turn the Boer left, and
started before daybreak of the 7th to accomplish this feat. On the
north bank was left the Ninth Division with some handy Colonials
and guns. Moving to the east were the Sixth and Seventh Divisions,
with the Guards Brigade in the centre.

The dawn grew. The Boers in the golden rays of morning
were disclosed massed in the far front, and later was seen the
glorious mass of French’s cavalry sweeping south—a martial broom
which the Boers began to know meant business.

At eight o’clock the music of battle started, the Naval guns on
one side and the batteries of General French on the other. Lyddite
and shrapnel bounced and spluttered over all the small kopjes wherein
the Dutchmen had made a lodgment. It was sufficient. The Boer
guns spat impotently—the puling cry of dismay—then, knowingly,
the Federals made preparations for a stampede. They saw in the
distance the Sixth Division advancing, the Colonials cleaving the
columns of dust, the Highland Brigade coming on and on, their dark
kilts cutting a thin line across the atmosphere—they saw enough!
To east they flew, speeding towards Bloemfontein—guns, waggons,
horsemen—as arrows from the bow, and leaving behind them their[Pg 99]
well-constructed trenches, their ammunition, tents, and supplies.
After them went the Colonials and City Imperial Volunteers, all keen
sportsmen, exhilarated with the heat of the chase, but the Boers were
uncatchable. No one has yet beaten them in the art of running away.
Nevertheless, Lord Roberts was left in undisturbed possession of
Poplar Grove. In the early afternoon the Boers certainly endeavoured
to make one futile, feeble stand, but their effort was unavailing,
and by sunset they were careering into space, while the cavalry
vainly endeavoured to hem them in. Horse-flesh had come to the
end of its tether; poor food and much galloping had reduced the
noble steeds to helpless wrecks, and unfortunately the manœuvres
of Paardeberg could not be repeated. Curiously enough, though no
Boers were caught, the military net was full of strange fish, a
Russian, a Hollander, a German all being left in the lurch. It was
a humorous episode. While the Boers were making off as fast as legs—the
mounts of some had been shot—and horses could carry them,
a dilapidated country cart, surmounted by a red flag, was seen to be
approaching. From this cart presently emerged several forlorn personages,
looking very sorry for themselves indeed. They accounted
for their plight by saying that while the final fight was taking place
their mule-waggon had broken down. The mules having been
unloosed, promptly stampeded, and left them between two fires, that
of the Boers (to whom they were attached) and the British. The
name of one foreigner, in dark blue uniform, was Colonel Prince
Gourko, of the Russian army; the other, attired in plain clothes,
was Lieutenant Thomson, of the Netherlands (Military Attaché of
the Boers). With them was a German servant in attendance on the
Russian prince. Finding themselves in an uncomfortable quandary,
one from which there was no escape, they decided to join the British.
They were introduced to Lord Kitchener, and thereupon presented
to the Commander-in-Chief, who received them with his usual
courtesy.

Lord Roberts, telegraphing home in the afternoon, thus described
the day’s work:—

“Osfontein, March 7 (4.30 P.M.).

“March 7.—Our operations to-day promise to be a great success.

“The enemy occupied a position four miles north and eleven miles south
of Modder River.

“I placed Colvile’s division on north bank; Kelly-Kenny’s and Tucker’s,
with cavalry division, on south bank.

“The cavalry division succeeded in turning the left flank, opening the road
for 6th Division, which is advancing without having been obliged to fire a shot
up to present time (twelve noon).

“Enemy are in full retreat toward north and east, being closely followed
by cavalry, horse-artillery, and mounted infantry, while the 7th (Tucker’s) and
9th (Colvile’s) divisions, and Guards Brigade, under Pole-Carew, are making[Pg 100]
their way across the river at Poplar’s Drift, where I propose to place my headquarters
this evening.”

Later on the Commander-in-Chief wired from the said headquarters:—

“Poplar Grove, March 7 (7.35 P.M.).

“We have had a very successful day and completely routed the enemy,
who are in full retreat.

“The position they occupied was extremely strong, and cunningly arranged
with a second line of entrenchments, which would have caused us heavy loss
had a direct attack been made.

“The turning movement was necessarily wide owing to the nature of the
ground, and the cavalry and horse-artillery horses are much done up.

“The fighting was practically confined to the cavalry division, which, as
usual, did exceedingly well, and French reports that the horse-artillery batteries
did a great deal of execution amongst the enemy.

“Our casualties number about fifty.

“I regret to say that Lieutenant Keswick, 12th Lancers, was killed, and
Lieutenant Bailey, of the same regiment, severely wounded. Lieutenant De
Crespigny, 2nd Life Guards, also severely wounded.”

Though the state of the cavalry was deplorable, it was thanks to
the splendid execution of General French that the Boers showed so
little fight, and there were so few casualties. The enemy saw the
cavalry menacing their line of retreat, and pelted off from kopje to
kopje, now and then sniping at the leading squadrons, and occasionally
plumping a shell or two into the British midst. With
the Dutchmen, Presidents Steyn and Kruger were said to be, and
these worthies made a desperate attempt to rally the forces, but without
success. Some say they even shed tears to encourage their
countrymen, which tears had evidently a damping effect, for the
Boers—some 14,000 of them—retreated all the faster. They were
absolutely demoralised by Lord Roberts’ tactics, and felt seriously
injured that the trenches which had been prepared against a frontal
attack should have been ignored. They had been so accustomed to
be attacked in front that they began to look upon the Commander-in-Chief’s
“roundabout way of doing things” as distinctly unfair.
They took themselves off, and when General French, who advanced
ten miles ahead of the main body, scoured the front, he reported
that not a Boer was to be seen. A vast amount of ammunition
was left behind, and this, including several boxes of explosive bullets,
labelled “Manufactured for the British Government,” was promptly
destroyed.

Good news now arrived. The A and B squadrons of Kitchener’s
Horse, reported missing, suddenly returned to camp at Paardeberg.
They, with E squadron, were cut off on the 13th of February, and
given up for lost. Though E squadron was captured by the enemy,
A and B squadrons succeeded in escaping, and, after losing their[Pg 101]
bearings on the veldt, and enduring three weeks’ somewhat unpleasant
experiences, found their way into safety.

Quantities of the Transvaalers disbanded and returned to their
farms. In other quarters, too, progress was announced. General
Gatacre occupied Burghersdorp and General Clements had reached
Norval’s Pont, and thus the sporadic rebellion in Cape Colony was
slowly beginning to die out.

The army advanced and formed a fresh camp beyond Poplar
Grove, where on the 8th and 9th more of the troops concentrated.
The force was now moving through a fine grassy country, made
additionally green and refreshing by plentiful rains, and the horses
were improving in condition and spirits, while the men were in
first-rate fettle.

On the 10th of March the army proceeded onwards. By this
time the Boers had posted themselves on the kopjes eight miles
south of Abraham’s Drift. It was imagined that they would be able
to offer little resistance to the advancing force, but they, however,
made a very determined stand.

THE FIGHT AT DRIEFONTEIN

On leaving Poplar Grove, Lord Roberts’ force, rearranged and
divided into three, advanced on Bloemfontein via Driefontein, a place
about six miles south-west of Abraham’s Kraal and some forty miles
from the capital of the Free State. Along the Petrusberg Road,
to the right, moved General Tucker’s division, with the Gordons
and a cavalry brigade. The central column, composed of General
Colvile’s division, the Guards Brigade (General Pole-Carew), and
Colonel Broadwood’s brigade of cavalry, accompanied Lord Roberts,
while on the left, advancing along the Modder River, was General
French with Colonel Porter’s cavalry brigade and General Kelly-Kenny’s
division. The ranks had been filled up by detachments
from the Modder and Kimberley, which latter place had been converted
into the advanced depôt. Among the additional troops were
the Ceylon Mounted Rifles, a soldierly lot and much admired by
those who saw them. At 10 A.M. the brigade of cavalry under
Colonel Broadwood, which was marching in advance of the central
column, came in touch with the enemy. Their position was a strong
one, an open, crescent-shaped group of kopjes, with the centre a
plateau, dropping on all sides to flat ground. At the extreme end
of the semicircle (on the crescent at the north-east) was posted a
formidable gun, and this weapon, perched on a commanding kopje
at Abraham’s Kraal, protected the position from advance from the
north-west. It also provided the Republicans with a loophole for
escape. Colonel Broadwood had no sooner discovered the enemy[Pg 102]
in his snake-shaped array of kopjes than he commenced to shell
him and drive him forth from the lower projections of the position.
That done, he there planted his mounted infantry till reinforcements
should come to his aid.

Directing an Army from a Military Balloon.

On the right Colonel Porter had now come in contact with
the foe. General French’s orders were to avoid imbroglio with the
enemy and to keep in touch with the centre. On a message being
sent by Colonel Porter to inform General French of the presence of
the Dutchmen, the infantry division changed its course. They now
marched twenty miles to the south, reaching the position about one
o’clock. The march was an achievement. Twenty miles across
the blistering, blinding veldt, as a commencement to a fighting day
six hours in length, was a feat of endurance of which the infantry
division might well have been proud. The change of course had[Pg 103]
the effect of avoiding the necessity to attack Abraham’s Kraal,
though at the same time it unfortunately left open the enemy’s line
of retreat to the north, which, later on, he was not slow to make use
of. With the arrival of General French’s force, Colonel Broadwood
was free to continue his movement to the left of the enemy’s position,
and working round it, found himself assailed by the 9-pounder
of the enemy. He nevertheless pursued his course, gaining
ground very slowly but surely, and by nightfall the brigade of cavalry
had worked eight miles to the rear of the Dutchmen’s position.
This flanking movement, though not concluded at dusk, resulted in
the eventual retirement of the enemy.

Meanwhile in the centre of the plateau hot fighting was taking
place, General Kelly-Kenny’s division having made a bold attack
on the north of the stronghold, whence the troops were greeted
from behind a screen of boulders with a storm of shot and shell.
The Dutchmen, safe and invisible, could not, however, succeed in
arresting the dogged advance of the Welsh Regiment, who formed
the first line of the attacking force. They went on and on
despite the fierce fusillade of the Federals, their numbers growing
momentarily thinner, but their nerve and perseverance showing no
diminution. The Boers, ingenious as ever, offered a skilful and
stubborn resistance, pouring a heavy enfilading fire from kopjes
both east and south-west, while they plied two 12-pounders with
intense vigour.

From the south now came the artillery, T Battery R.H.A.
sweeping the way for the infantry advance. But they had no easy
task. Before they could get into action the Vickers-Maxim of the
Federals commenced its deadly activities, and while the gunners
were unlimbering killed first one man then another, and laid
low several horses. But the brave artillerymen undauntedly pursued
their work, and presently, with the loss of very few minutes,
exchanged hearty greetings with the weapon which had wrought
such havoc among their numbers. At this time U Battery, at the
north of the Boer centre, was active, but later on, when the 76th
Field Battery moved towards the enemy with a view to clearing
a way for the rush of the infantry, U Battery joined T, and
together they blazed away at the ridges held by the Dutchmen.
But throughout the whole period they pursued their work under
showers which unceasingly rained down from the rifles of the foe.
Meanwhile the Welsh Regiment, supported by the Essex and
Gloucesters, moved on and on till they reached the shelter of the
crest of the ridge. Here, at 500 yards range, a crackling concert
of musketry was heard, the Boers firing with great ferocity and
stubbornness, the British with coolness and accuracy. From the
centre of the position the Yorks, supported by the Buffs, did mag[Pg 104]nificent
work, and they, together with the Essex Regiment, later
on in the afternoon began doggedly to ascend towards the stone
sangars of the enemy, which yet vomited forks of flame.

Now they crawled and now they wormed themselves along
through the grass, dripping with gore and covered with sweat, many
of their officers gone, comrades dropping to right and to left of
them, while the fire of the enemy continued to rattle down in their
midst. Then, as the fusillade slackened, they leapt up and made
for the ridge, taking it, going over the crest with glittering steel
and ringing cheer, and finding not one single Boer had awaited
their coming. The Dutchmen had vanished into thin air! It was
a magnificent deed—the finest that had been witnessed for a long
time—but it was dearly paid for. The way was paved to Bloemfontein,
but with the corpses of the honoured dead. The brunt of the
fighting fell on the Sixth Division, more particularly on the Welsh
and Essex Regiments, the Ninth Division, with the Guards, arriving
too late in the day to take part in the fight. A great number
of officers were put out of action—so many, indeed, that some of the
leading companies were led, and admirably led, by their colour-sergeants.
A characteristic feature of the engagement was the
Dutchmen’s slim and ingenious mode of firing a big gun from amid
a group of red houses, each floating a white flag, an arrangement
which served to cover the retirement of the enemy, and on the success
of which he doubtless complimented himself not a little.

SERGEANT OF THE INNISKILLING DRAGOONS.

Photo by Gregory & Co., London.

At dusk a splendid sight was visible. In the last glimmer of
day Lord Roberts and his staff entered the central plateau, followed
by degrees by all the troops—an imposing force, which evidently
determined the Boers in their resolution to make themselves scarce.
This they did, guns included, with really creditable and surprising
rapidity. They were much disheartened by defeat, however, and
though they had offered most stubborn resistance, the character of
their defence was lacking in evidence of the determination which
had hitherto been noticeable. Among the mortally wounded was
the gallant officer commanding the Royal Australian Artillery,
Colonel Umphelby.[3] The Boers lost over 100, but the list of our own
killed and wounded was a long one. Amongst the killed were:—Captain
Eustace, the Buffs; Lieutenant Parsons and Second Lieutenant
Coddington, Essex Regiment; Captain Lomax, Welsh Regi[Pg 105]ment;
Mr. McKartie, a retired Indian civilian attached to Kitchener’s
Horse. Wounded—Colonel Hickson, the Buffs, Lieutenant Ronald,
the Buffs; Captain Jordan, Gloucesters; Second Lieutenant Torkington,
Welsh Regiment; Second Lieutenant Pope, Welsh Regiment;
Second Lieutenant Wimberley, Welsh Regiment; Captain
Broadmead, Essex Regiment; Lieutenant Devenish, Royal Field
Artillery; Major Waite, Royal Army Medical Corps; Lieutenant
Berne, Royal Army Medical Corps; Colonel Umphelby, Royal
Australian Artillery (since dead); Lieutenant C. Berkeley and Second
Lieutenant Lloyd, Welsh Regiment; Second Lieutenant G. H.
Raleigh, Essex Regiment.

The Australians came in for a heavy share of the fighting. The
1st Australian Horse, brigaded with the Scots Greys, were fiercely
fired on by the enemy as they advanced to within 800 yards of the
wide bend of kopjes. The New South Wales Mounted Infantry,
under Colonel Knight, and the Mounted Rifles, under Captain Antill,
engaged in animated pursuit of the enemy as they fled towards the
north, their fleet horses showing a marked contrast in condition to
the jaded steeds of the English cavalry.

Lord Roberts expressed his satisfaction at the brilliant work
performed by the Welsh Regiment in the storming of Alexander
Kopje, a feat in which they displayed consummate skill as well as
amazing pluck. Some heroic actions took place during the day,
particularly in connection with the supply of ammunition, which ran
short owing to the necessity of relieving the infantry for their heavy
march, of fifty rounds apiece. Some dastardly ones were also practised
by the Boers, who, finding themselves in a perilous situation,
the artillery in front and a squadron of mounted infantry hovering
on their flank, hoisted a white flag and threw up their hands in token
of surrender. Naturally the British accepted the sign, and, while they
were approaching the Dutchmen, some others of their number
hastened to pour a volley into the British ranks. Lord Roberts
himself having been a witness of this treacherous act, remonstrated
with the Boer leaders, and ordered that in future if such action
were repeated the white flag should be utterly disregarded. The
following protest was made by the Commander-in-Chief:—

“To their Honours the State Presidents of the Orange Free State and
South African Republic.

“Another instance having occurred of a gross abuse of the white flag, and
of the signal of holding up the hands in token of surrender, it is my duty to
inform your Honours that if such abuse occurs again, I shall most reluctantly be
compelled to order my troops to disregard the white flag entirely.

“The instance occurred on the kopje east of Driefontein Farm yesterday
evening, and was witnessed by several of my own staff-officers as well as by
myself, and resulted in the wounding of several of my officers and men.

“A large quantity of explosive bullets of three different kinds was[Pg 106]
found in Cronje’s laager, and after every engagement with your Honours’
troops.

“Such breaches of the recognised usages of war and of the Geneva Convention
are a disgrace to any civilised Power.

“A copy of this telegram has been sent to my Government, with a request
that it may be communicated to all neutral Powers.”

The Boers had now entirely disappeared. It was nevertheless
hinted that they might be collecting in some new and unexpected
region. The column, however, resumed its victorious march, proceeding
twelve miles without coming upon the enemy. The beating
of yesterday had produced a good effect, for the Dutchmen kept
their distance, though in the kopjes all along the direct road to
Bloemfontein, which lay due east, they were said to be swarming.
It was also reported that Transvaalers and Free Staters had fallen
out, and that the former, under Joubert, were determined to make a
stand behind a magnificent entrenchment that they had built. The
advance was supposed to come from the west, and consequently the
Boer line of entrenchments extended some six or eight miles from
the town facing towards Bam’s Vlei. There were shelter trenches,
made not on the kopjes, but about a hundred yards out on the
plain beneath. They used sandbags, and had gun epaulements
besides. In addition to all this, they had made sangars and piles
of stones on the kopjes. Unfortunately for them, our troops made
a cunning detour, which again dislocated the Dutchmen’s programme,
and forced them in their mountain fastnesses to sit inactive, while
the cavalry was wheeling south to the outskirts of Bloemfontein!
Here there were no fortifications and very few Boers.

Mr. Steyn now secretly left Bloemfontein for Kroonstad, as, in
spite of Mr. Kruger’s representations, it had been decided to surrender
the capital of the Free State. Lord Roberts, who had sent
in a formal demand for surrender, received no reply. General
Joubert made preparations, with some 3000 men, to avert the
surrender, but his approach, veritably at the eleventh hour, was
barred by the clever manœuvres of the British. This splendid piece
of work was executed by Major Hunter-Weston, R.E. He was
sent by General French to cut the railway north of Bloemfontein,
and thus preclude any chance of Boer interruption to the triumphal
progress into the town. In the dead of night the Major, with seven
men of the field-troop, all mounted on picked horses (a precaution
that was very necessary considering the hard work done by the
troops both before and after the relief of Kimberley), started on
their hazardous expedition. Darkness cramped, though it cloaked
their movements, and the ground over which they sped was seamed
with dongas and many impediments; and, moreover, a wide sweep
had to be made to avoid Boer pickets. Before the peep o’ day they[Pg 107]
reached their destination. Then they began to search for a place
suitable for demolition. They came on a culvert supported with iron
girders, one of which was hastily but cautiously prepared by placing
two 10-lb. charges of gun-cotton against the web, which was fired
within twenty minutes. Then, with a detonation that seemed to
shake the day into dawning, the line was completely wrecked and
rendered impassable, and Joubert, whose “special” was timed to
arrive at Bloemfontein at 8.10 A.M., lost his last chance of interfering
with the proceedings! This in itself was an excellent coup, and
particularly serviceable, since it secured to the British the use of
twenty-six locomotives at a time when they were much needed.

General French had also seized and destroyed some portions of
the railway south of Bloemfontein. His headquarters were made at
the house of Mr. Steyn’s brother—who had tried unsuccessfully to
get away, and was forced to remain at his farm—while the troops
were now posted at different points outside the town, and were, in
comparison with their former state, in clover.

Early on the 13th the 1st Cavalry Brigade moved slowly towards
some kopjes to the east of Bloemfontein and occupied them. All
knew the great day was come when Lord Roberts with Kelly-Kenny’s
and Colvile’s divisions, the Guards Brigade, and the Mounted
Infantry would be presently marching into the Free State capital.
Whereupon the adventurous journalist, determined there should be no
pie without the impress of his finger, put his best leg foremost and
decided to lead the way. The correspondents of the Sydney Herald,
the Daily News, and the Daily Telegraph were seen like madmen
spurring over the plain. There was ten to one on the favourite, the
Burleigh veteran, and the Colonial was only backed for a place, yet
he it was who won! They were received in the Market Square with
beams. There was a shade of relief even on the most surly countenances.
Mr. Fraser, a member of the Executive, the Mayor of
Bloemfontein, and others, “bigwigs of B.,” as somebody called
them, came out and did the honours. These gentlemen were invited
to take carriages out to welcome the British force, which—diplomacy
being the better part of hostility—they accordingly did. In
starting they encountered the first of the British victors, Lieutenant
Chester-Master, with three of Remington’s scouts. At last they
came to the Chief’s halting-place, and the surrender of the town was
made known. The mediæval ceremony of delivering up the keys of
Parliament and Presidency was gone through. Formalities over,
Lord Roberts made the gracious assurance that, provided no
opposition was offered, the lives and properties of the Bloemfontein
public were safe in his hands. Having notified his intention to enter
the capital in state, the Mayor, Landrost, and others departed to
acquaint the townspeople.[Pg 108]

AT BLOEMFONTEIN

Bloemfontein! A name of milk and honey, of flowers and
dew! Every vowel breathed of pastoral simplicity, of luscious
grasses and lowing kine, of gambolling game and purling stream.
A name for a poet to conjure with! a talisman to awaken the mellow
music of a Herrick and recall the soul of Walton to benevolent
rejoicings in the “sights and sounds of the open landscape.” Unfortunately,
the mellifluous name was not derived from the German
for flowers or from the melody of fountains. It owed its origin to
a Boer peasant who stood godfather to the hamlet and also to an
adjacent stream. Here in other days the innocent Voertrekker
unpacked his waggons and set out his little farmstead, choosing
green rising ground, an oasis in the sandy veldt, and the neighbourhood
of a refreshing rivulet for comfort’s sake, and not because he
foresaw that in fifty years this spot would be the central scene in
one of the largest dramas of the world! In the year 1845 the
Union Jack first waved its protective folds over the homestead. At
that period it was converted into the official abode of a British
Resident, and from that time, with an expansion which was truly
British, the tiny village developed till it became a town, and finally
passed over, through British apathy and dislike for responsibility,
to the hands of the Free Staters. And there it might and would
have remained had not President Steyn, who owed us no grudge,
and with whom we were on the best of terms, decided to put his
finger in the diplomatic pie, in the hope that some of the plums
would fall to his share. Thus, in his greed for power and his contempt
for the British, he embroiled his country, and being unable to
defend his capital, was forced to scurry off to his birthplace, Winburg,
some miles to the east, where, with the assistance of his foreign
mercenaries, he yet hoped to save himself from the consequences of
his ill-advised interference. So it came to pass that on the 13th
of March 1900, thirty-nine days after the commencement of his
great march, Lord Roberts, with the magnificent British army
in his wake, moved unopposed towards the capital of the Free
State.

The entry into the town was an imposing spectacle. The Mayor,
Dr. Kellner, the Landrost, Mr. Papenfus, and Mr. Fraser, as we
know, had driven out in a cart to meet Lord Roberts, and four
miles outside the town the keys of the town were given up. Then
the Field-Marshal, the most simply dressed man in his whole army,
appeared at the head of a cavalcade a mile long. He was followed
by his military secretary, his aides-de-camp, the general officers
on his staff with their respective staffs. Then came the foreign
attachés, some war-correspondents, and Lord Roberts’ Indian ser[Pg 109]vants,
who contributed a warm note of colour to the sombre files of
kharki. After this came a serpentine train of cavalry and guns, which
entered the city at one o’clock. It was the most wonderful military
display that has been seen for years. A gigantic army—not a
peace but a war army, not the crude army of Salisbury Plain but
the perfected article, the army minus its raw recruits and plus its
trained reserves, which owed its magnificent development to the
man whom Lord Wolseley has called “the greatest War Minister
we ever had.” Looking at the splendid physique of the warrior
multitude, it was impossible for military men, even those who had
criticised most severely the short service system, to deny that to-day
the triumph of Lord Cardwell’s principle was complete!

The crowds collected from far and wide, all business was suspended,
and knots and cliques gathered together to witness the procession
moving up the slopes towards the town itself. Cheer after cheer
rang through the air, kerchiefs waved and blessings were prayed
for, as the procession marched through the collected crowd and on
into the market square. Lord Roberts then went to the Government
Buildings, and took formal possession in the name of the
sovereign. There was renewed cheering and singing of “God save
the Queen,” when, half-an-hour later, at twenty minutes to two, a
small silken Union Jack, specially worked by Lady Roberts, was seen
floating over the town.

The day passed without notable incident. A public holiday was
observed, and the kharki-clad crowds rejoiced themselves by singing
“Tommy Atkins” and feasting right royally. They were quite
undisturbed by the scarcely complimentary remarks of the Burghers,
who compared them in number and colour and appetite to a swarm
of locusts!

Mr. Steyn’s brother, who, it may be remembered, had failed to
get away with his belongings in time, remained discreetly at his
farm, where he entertained General French, and subsequently Lord
Roberts. One of the curious features of the entry into the capital
of the Free State was the extraordinary welcome given by the
inhabitants to the conquerors. Regiment after regiment filed past
to the tune of hearty cheers, and surprised pleasure at the orderly
and humane entry of the enemy was visible on every face. While the
public offices were taken over by Lord Roberts’ staff, the banks were
visited by Colonel Richardson. This officer was accounted one of
the heroes of the hour, for sufficient praise could not be given to
the achievements of the Army Corps or to Colonel Richardson,
whose task of provisioning, foraging, and transporting 40,000 men
and 18,000 horses savoured of the labours of Hercules. There
were quibblers, of course; but, practically considered, all had gone
off without a hitch, and the whole arrangements moved, as the[Pg 110]
phrase is, “on greased wheels,” the influence over all of the beloved
“Bobs” having been simply magical.

The next day Lord Roberts inspected the Guards Brigade,
complimented them on their splendid march, and expressed his
regret that through a mistake he had been unable to enter Bloemfontein
at the head of the Brigade. He consoled them by saying,
“I will lead you into Pretoria!” In these gracious words the
troops were rewarded for their disappointment, for the Chief, though
he had promised them to lead them into the town, had finally
decided that it was expedient to enter the capital without waiting
for the infantry.

The Guards Brigade had made a magnificent march of thirty-eight
miles in twenty-eight hours, taking from 3 P.M. on the 12th to
1 P.M. on the 13th, with an interval of only two and a half hours for
sleep. Yet, in spite of this, and of having been in some of the
toughest fights of the campaign, they were cheery and elated. One
of their number (the Scots Guards) described their arrival:—“We
waited three hours outside Bloemfontein for Lord Roberts, as we
were told that the Commander-in-Chief wished to ride at the head
of the Guards Brigade into the town. But he did not come, and
our Colonel got orders to go in on his own. Our reception in
Bloemfontein would have surprised you. It was quite funny in its
way—not in the least like entering an enemy’s town. The people
simply came forth and cheered us as friends. A small group of nuns
who came out to meet us wished us ‘Good evening,’ and said we
were very welcome. To myself, as an Aberdonian, it was very
home-like to pass by a shop with the inscription, ‘Bon-Accord
Restaurant.’ The proprietor was standing at the door shouting
himself hoarse. I was not surprised afterwards to learn that he was
a pure Aberdonian. We camped outside the town, and next day
Lord Roberts reviewed the Guards Brigade. His Lordship made
a short speech, in which he complimented us on our rapid march,
and said he was sorry he had not been able to lead us into Bloemfontein.
‘But,’ said his Lordship, ‘I hope to be at your head when
we go into Pretoria.’ We all gave three very hearty cheers for the
Commander-in-Chief, who has always been the soldier’s friend. We
would follow him anywhere.”

To return to the closing events of the momentous 13th. At
8 P.M. a telegram was sent home describing with simple brevity the
entry into the capital:—“From Lord Roberts to the Secretary for
War.—Bloemfontein, March 13, 8 P.M.—By the help of God and by
the bravery of Her Majesty’s soldiers, the troops under my command
have taken possession of Bloemfontein. The British flag
now flies over the Presidency, vacated last evening by Mr. Steyn,
late President of the Orange Free State.[Pg 111]”

An army order was issued on the 14th, in which the Chief
said:—

“On February 12 this force crossed the boundary of the Free State; three
days later Kimberley was relieved; on the fifteenth day the bulk of the Boer
army under one of its most trusted generals was made prisoner; on the seventeenth
day news came of the relief of Ladysmith; and on March 13, twenty-nine
days from the commencement of operations, the capital of the Free State
was occupied.

“This is a record of which any army would be proud—a record which could
not have been achieved except by earnest, well-disciplined men, determined to
do their duty, whatever the difficulties and dangers.

“Exposed to the extreme heat of the day, bivouacking under heavy rain,
marching long distances often on reduced rations, all ranks have displayed an
endurance, cheerfulness, and gallantry which is beyond all praise.”

Lord Roberts added that he desired especially to refer to the
heroic spirit with which the wounded had borne their suffering.
No word nor murmur of complaint had been uttered. The anxiety of
all when succour came was that their comrades should be attended
to first.

So the great march was over—the hurry, the fatigue, the loss of
life, the perpetual anxieties had brought about the desirable end—and
the tremendous first act in the historic drama of the century was
nearing its conclusion. Looking back on the difficulties that had
been surmounted—the movement of some 40,000 men and 20,000
quadrupeds across over 100 miles of mostly dry veldt, where water
was scarce and heat tropical, and where the enemy lurked in masses
in kopje or donga, and had to be fought at intervals—the march
appeared little short of miraculous. Now the curtain was shortly
to go up on the first scene of the second act, an act which would
have for its background the Orange River Colony, formerly known
as the Orange Free State!

[Pg 112]

CHAPTER IV

MAFEKING IN FEBRUARY

The investment was much less close than formerly. Owing
to the increasing activity in other parts of the theatre of war,
Colonel Baden-Powell was relieved of the pressing attentions
that were previously bestowed on him. Now for the
first time he found himself in touch with the outer world, for
telegraphic communication was restored in the direction of Gaberones,
about ninety miles north of Mafeking, and from thence a
bi-weekly service of runners was instituted for the conveyance of
letters and telegrams, of course at the owners’ risk. There was
delight all round, and “Old Bathing Towel,” as contemporary Carthusians
used irreverently to call him, made haste to rejoice the
hearts of those at home with a report of his doings.

SLEEPLESS MAFEKING—HOT WORK IN THE TRENCHES.

Drawing by R. Caton Woodville.

On the 4th of February the etiquette of the Sabbath was broken
by an accident. The machine-gun at Fort Ayr was fired, and the
enemy was not slow to reply. Lieutenant Grenfell, unarmed and
without a flag of truce, pluckily went out to tender apologies for the
accident. He was met by the Boers, who exchanged for a flask of
whisky two copies of the Standard and Diggers’ News, containing
glowing accounts of Boer victories on the Tugela! It needed more
than the contents of the flask to correct the dismay occasioned by
the lamentable, if exaggerated, news of the abandonment of Spion
Kop, and the inhabitants could only console themselves by remembering
what a stupendous and gratuitous liar the Boer could be.
Luckily for them, they only accepted half of the Dutchmen’s tales,
and had learnt by experience that the art of editing Boer journals
was dependent on imaginative rather than realistic talent. For
instance, “one who knew” described the methods of Volkstem
thus:—“When you knew it, something could be extracted. The
key to the mystery was this: The paper always published the
exact opposite of what had taken place. For instance, a few days
before Cronje’s capture it had a grand headline—‘Cronje the Captor.’
And underneath came the astounding statement that Cronje had
cornered 900 British Lancers on the Koodoosrand. Alas! for
Cronje and his Lancers! They existed only in the editor’s fertile
imagination.” So, notwithstanding the report of reverses elsewhere,
the large heart of Mafeking was still bent on bursting its cramped
shell. If antiquated methods of warfare were carried on in other[Pg 113]
parts of South Africa, they were certainly not pursued here, for
Colonel Baden-Powell was a modern of the moderns. The secrets
of the enemy’s tactics were at his fingers’ ends, and where science
failed to match them resource came in. He knew how to make
dynamite spit and scream and threaten; he studied the problem of
tension and the art of playing on the nerves of his adversary, and
Cronje’s remark, “Not men, but devils,” made as that redoubtable
one shook the dust of Mafeking off his shoes, must have been
the dearest compliment the Colonel’s heart could crave. The
Colonel, in a despatch forwarded to Colonel Nicholson—an officer
who, with a small column and armoured train, held Mangwe,
Palapye, and other places on the rail—dated February 12, described
his activities:—

“Mafeking, February 12.

“On the 3rd inst. our Nordenfeldt was chiefly occupied in preventing the
enemy from completing their new work on the northern slope of the south-eastern
heights. Assistance was rendered by our seven-pounder, emplaced
in the bush to the east of Cannon Kopje. The enemy’s siege-gun replied
vigorously. During that night the enemy were nervous and restless, and kept
firing volleys at our working parties, being apparently apprehensive of attack.
Their firing continued until dawn, when the work in our trenches ceased.

“There was a curious incident at Fort Ayr that Sunday. Our machine-gun
there was fired accidentally, and the enemy replied. Lieutenant Grenfell went
out and apologised for the accident. Though the gun had been fired and the
enemy had replied, he did not take a flag of truce with him. The Boers met
him, and exchanged two copies of the Standard and Diggers’ News for a flask
of whisky.

“On Monday, the 5th, irregular shelling continued all day. In the evening
heavy rains fell, but the enemy kept up the bombardment till midnight, firing a
new incendiary shell, which, however, failed to take effect.

“On the 7th there was a desultory bombardment, and the sharpshooters were
busy. On the 8th the enemy’s siege-gun fired one shell only.

“On the 11th the enemy were quiet, being engaged in fortifying their big
gun emplacement, and generally preparing to resist attack from outside. A
good deal of night-firing was exchanged between our outlying positions and
those of the enemy, volleys being fired at short ranges.

“Next day the enemy were fairly quiet. Mr. Dall, a well-known citizen,
was killed, and two Cape boys were wounded, while two natives in the town
were killed and some four wounded.”

The circumstances of Mr. Dall’s death were deeply tragic, for
his wife, who was in the women’s laager at the time, on hearing of
the news was half-distracted by the shock. Owing to the grievous
affair the dance that was to have taken place was postponed to the
following day.[Pg 114]

Facsimile of Issue of 25th January 1900 of the Mafeking Mail.

Colonel Baden-Powell issued an order which broke to the besieged
the information that the Commander-in-Chief had requested
them to hold on till May. Hearts dropped to zero! If properly
conserved, it was believed that provisions might be eked out till the[Pg 115]
Queen’s birthday, but the quality of the fare was bad enough
without consideration of the quantity. The men were tough, they
were game for anything; but the women—helpless, worn, unnerved,
surrounded by children, and limited to the confines of an insanitary
laager—they made an additional tangle to the already knotty situation.
The townsfolk going to the posts in the trenches, with their
own lives in their hands, had upon them the burden of thought for
those, their weaklier belongings, who were waning with anxiety and
disease—waning many of them into their graves. Still the garrison
grumbled little. It set out as Sabbath decoration for the forts and
trenches some smart Union Jacks which had been worked by the
ladies in the town, and the dauntless ones engaged in a concert, the
programme of which was vastly appreciated. Here “B.-P.’s” well-known
talents came in handy, for he played the Chevalier of the entertainment
and displayed all the versatility of that renowned performer.
From the æsthetic Paderewski (with his hair on) to a Whitechapel
Coster is a good jump, but the gallant Colonel, who had so long
impersonated Job to order of the British Government, was not to
be defeated by minor representations, however various. After this
joviality a ball was attempted, but alas! with sorry success. Before
the gaily attired guests were well under way the uproar of Maxims
and Mausers had begun. They tried to dance. It would have
been a case of Nero fiddling while Rome was burning. A staff
officer arrived ordering all to fall in. Soon there was a general
stampede, officers fled to their posts, orderlies rushed off to sound
the alarm, the galloping Maxim tore through the blue obscurity
from the western outposts to the town; the Bechuanaland Rifles
and the Protectorate Regiment hurried to the brickfields, the Cape
Police made for the eastern advance posts, while the ladies, charming,
disconsolate, hied them precipitately to places of refuge. There,
in the lambent beams of the moon, were seen excited shadows, all
either rushing to their bomb-proof shelters or scudding to the sniping
posts of the river. Showers of bullets flecked the sapphire air,
and the exquisite serene night was changed into a long, wakeful,
quaking anguish. The Boers kept up their firing operations
throughout the small hours, but at dawn, when they received a
quid pro quo from the British quarter, they deemed it best to
subdue their ardour for a brief space. Rest was short-lived. On
the 13th the gunners again made themselves offensive by endeavouring
to hit the flour-mill, and they succeeded in their efforts,
though fortunately without destroying it. They pursued their
murderous industries throughout the day, pouring bullets on any
one who dared to show a nose in the open, and about noon succeeded
in seriously wounding Captain Girdwood, who was returning
to luncheon on his bicycle.[Pg 116]

The unfortunate officer—one of the most popular fellows and
as gallant as he was jolly—never rallied after receiving the fatal
wound and died on the following day. In the evening he was
buried. The solemn rite was conducted with simplicity under the
mild moonbeams which silvered the gloomy scene and softened
the rigid faces of the bronzed warriors who hung in melancholy
regret round the open grave.

The Boers sometimes endeavoured to affect jocosity. From the
advanced trench, which was some hundred and ten yards from the
besiegers’ main trench, their voices could be heard travelling on the
breeze. The prelude to their attacks began not seldom with “Here’s
a good morning to you, Mafeking,” or other remarks of cheery or
personal nature. Then rattle, rattle, and one of the British band would
drop. On one of these occasions an amusing if tragic ruse was perpetrated.
The Boers were known to be fond of music, and some one
of the tormented hit on the happy idea of performing for the benefit
of the hostile audience. The savage breast was soothed. The Boers
were “drawn.” They stopped to listen. Enraptured, they advanced
nearer, nearer. Finally, two enthusiastic, inquisitive heads protruded
from cover—protruded never to protrude again!

The Boers soon began to try the expedient of attacking Mafeking
by proxy. Assaults were made, or rather attempted, by a mongrel
force, composed largely of mercenaries—Germans, Scandinavians,
Frenchmen, and renegade Irish (probably “returned empties” from
the gallant Emerald Isle), ne’er-do-weel’s, who felt it necessary at times
to do something for their living. These were assisted by natives,
who were pressed into their service to make a convenient padding
for their front in advance, for their rear in retreat, as they took good
care to save their own hides when retirement was obligatory.

Fortunately their artillery practice, which was patiently kept up,
was very inferior, otherwise Mafeking would soon have been in
ruins. On one afternoon the enemy plied his siege-gun and another
gun with great vigour. Out of eight rounds one shot besprinkled
two of the besieged with dust; a 5-pounder gun from one quarter
and a 1-pounder Maxim from another filled the air with deplorable
detonations for two whole hours, yet happily no life was lost. To
this hot fire the inhabitants replied only with their rifles. It was
wonderful in what good stead their rifles had stood them, and it
was thanks to them, and not to the Government, that the town had
been saved at all.

The difficulties both at Kimberley and Mafeking were the result
of the obstructive policy adopted by the Colonial Government before
the outbreak of hostilities. While the storm-cloud hung on the
horizon, Kimberley had appealed to Mr. Schreiner for permission to
send up from Port Elizabeth Maxims which had been ordered by[Pg 117]
the De Beers Company, and the licence was refused on the ground
that there was no necessity to strengthen the defences of the town.
The appeals from Mafeking were treated in much the same way,
the authorities at the Cape suggesting that there was no reason to
believe that the situation demanded extra precautions!

Ingenuity and pluck had been the backbone of British defence,
not British guns. An ordnance factory was established, and excellent
shells were cast, and even powder manufactured. Thus the alarm
lest ammunition should run out before the arrival of relief was allayed.
The great ambition of the garrison was to complete a 5½-inch
howitzer, and throw “home-made shells from a home-made gun
with home-made powder.”

Major Baillie described with some pride the self-contained nature
of the community: “We have our bank, our ordnance factory, and
our police; and we flourish under a beneficent and remote autocracy.
And now, as regards the ordnance factory, it was started for the
manufacture of shells for our 7-pounder, for shot, brass and iron, for
our antique cannon, and for the adaptation of 5-pounder shells (left
here by Dr. Jameson) to our 7-pounders by the addition of enlarged
driving-bands. These have all proved a complete success, and too
much praise cannot be given to Connely and Cloughlan of the Locomotive
Department, who have organised and run the factory. As
great a triumph has been the manufacture of powder and the invention
of fuses by Lieutenant Daniels, British South Africa Police and
the Glamorgan Artillery Militia, which render us secure against
running short of ammunition. A gun also is being manufactured,
and will shortly be used. This factory is of long standing, but the
authorities had not allowed us to allude to its existence.”

Other manufactures, too, were commenced, for manufacture it
must be called—the art of making the poor skeletons, at one time
known as horses, into succulent meat. Some declared that the
number of cats and dogs was visibly thinning, but none dared pry
too closely into the workings of the wonderful machinery that
fed them. A number of the Protectorate Regiment’s horses were
slaughtered, and any others that were shot by the enemy were
passed on to the commissariat.

A soup-kitchen, under the supervision of Captain Wilson, was
opened for the purpose of supplying some 600 natives with nourishing
food, and rendering them contented with the vicissitudes of fate.
The compound was scarcely inviting, and resembled a third-rate
haggis. In two great boilers scraps of such meat as could be
gathered together were simmered down, and to this immense stockpot
was added various meals, which gave the mess the necessary
consistency. The natives bought it eagerly at 6d. a quart, and
really rejoiced in it.[Pg 118]

The blacks, indeed, suffered less than the whites. The latter
were paying a guinea a day for very scant fare, while the Baralongs,
who were earning from 1s. to 2s. 6d. a day, were able to sustain life
on half their wages, and save the rest to buy luxuries, a wife possibly,
when the stress of the siege was over. The young children suffered
most of all, for malaria and unsuitable food played havoc in the
women’s laager, and the graveyard was filled with small victims to
the Imperial cause.

About the middle of the month the Boers became abnormally
active, and for several days sounds of digging and picking
suggested that they were throwing out new trenches beyond those
they already manned in the region of the brickfields. The full
significance of the activity was discovered by Sergeant-Major
Taylor, who—in charge of three pits which formed the most advanced
post—suddenly espied, some fifty yards in advance of the
limit of the Boer trenches, a hostile figure! The apparition wore a
German uniform, and Sergeant-Major Taylor was soon aware that
the enemy were intending to sap the British position. Colonel
Baden-Powell was informed of the impending danger, and at night
a counter-sap extending 100 yards was thrown out, from which point
it would be possible for the besieged to fire on the new work. The
tension of the situation was extreme. Eighty yards only separated
the combatants, and the enemy continued to burrow, approaching
little by little, while the British continued to harass them in their
labours by an active fusillade whenever a chance presented itself.
But the operations continued, and every hour brought the Boers
nearer. At last a night came when the enemy had almost reached
his goal, and, moreover, had moved the Creusot gun to a position
on the south-eastern heights so as to command the entire area.
With due precaution the defenders tried to occupy the advanced
posts, but the Boer firing was so correct and persistent that the
position was rendered untenable. Sergeant-Major Taylor, a splendid
fellow—who more than once had ventured eavesdropping to the edge
of the Boer trenches—and four others were mown down in their
gallant efforts to save the situation. The enemy, satisfied with his
exertions in this direction, now began to turn his attention to the
forts in the rear—a bad move, for while the Dutchmen hammered
in that region the British rapidly seized the occasion to construct a
traverse across the mouth of the sap. This, of course, was not carried
forward without attracting the attention of the enemy, who fired fast
and furiously. But the task was accomplished, after which the Boers
and the British, worn out, rested from their hostilities. For a day
and a night the Boers were in occupation of the advanced hole and
the sap that had been carried from it, but it was soon recaptured, and
the connection made with the Boer trenches blown up with dynamite.[Pg 119]

On the 20th the Protectorate Regiment gave a dinner, which
turned out to be quite a luxurious repast. Invitations were supplemented
by the request to bring their own bread! Some of the
officers shot a few locust-birds, small as quail, which, when carved
judiciously, went round among the guests. Added to this there was
a sucking pig, obtained none knew whence, but nevertheless most
welcome.

On the 22nd, Sergeant-Major Looney of the Commissariat was
sentenced to five years penal servitude for the misappropriation of
comestibles and stores, which had been going on for some time.
The Commissariat was reorganised by Captain Ryan (Army Service
Corps) with untiring energy and economy. To the soup-kitchen
went everything, scraps of meat, or hoof, meal, unsifted oats, bran,
all were turned to account, and food of a sustaining, if not luxurious
kind, was provided for every one. At this time the Boers were
growing despondent, and began to doubt their chance of forcing the
town to surrender. From a conversation overheard by some wary
ones who had crept close to the enemy’s trenches, it appeared that
President Steyn had urged Commandant Snyman to carry the town
by storm, and afterwards to come to the rescue of the Free Staters
with his force, but the Burghers had expressed their opinion that it
was now too late to take Mafeking—they should have done so the
first week.

The inhabitants were very pleased with their own ingenuity, and
in their ordnance workshops the manufacture of shot and shell went
on apace. The mechanics of the railway works, by a system which
seemed to act on the lines of a conjuring trick, turned out from
the shell-factory about fifty rounds a day. No waste was allowed.
Even the fragments of the enemy’s shells were utilised. These and
scraps of cast iron were purchased at twopence a pound for smelting,
and twopence, it must be remembered, was now a magnificent disbursement,
as money was growing more and more scarce. Curiously
enough, the present foreman, Conolly, was at one time manager of the
shell department of the ordnance factory at Pretoria, where he personally
supervised the manufacture of the larger shells. He now
necessarily took a parental interest in the shells flung into Mafeking
by the Boers’ Creusot gun, and also in those new ones that were
flung out of Mafeking as a result of his own and others’ inventive
genius! A good deal of shelling took place, and that on the 23rd
was said to be a salute in honour of Independence Day in the
Orange Free State. The inhabitants of Mafeking would not have
grudged their enemies the, to them, distressing attempt at festivity
had they then known that four days later the death-blow of that
independence would be struck, and the salute was destined to be the
last in the history of the Republics![Pg 120]

Fare was growing more and more meagre. Horse-flesh was
diversified by bread made from horse forage; water, to say the
least of it, was becoming interesting only to bacteriologists. The
native population for the most part starved; they now and then
indulged in a raid and brought back fat fare, which for a day or
two had a visible effect upon their ebon skeletons, but they brought
it at the risk of their lives.

Uninterrupted deluges of rain made existence a perpetual misery,
the trenches and also the bomb-proof shelters were flooded, and
the hapless inhabitants, saturated, fled into the open, uncertain
whether death by fire was not preferable to death by water. The
first, at all events, promised to be expeditious, while the second
offered prospects of prolonged sousing and exquisite tortures of
enduring rheumatism. Daily the state of affairs became less tolerable.
Typhoid and malaria stalked abroad, and in the children’s
and women’s laager diphtheria had set in.

On the 25th a message was received from the Queen. Its effect
was electrical. It was vastly heartening to feel and to know that
the great Sovereign herself knew and sympathised with the history
of the struggles and privations, the loyalty and pluck of this little
hamlet in a remote corner of Her Majesty’s possessions. It seemed
more possible now to starve patriotically, and, with every mouthful
of nauseating mule or horse, to put aside personal discomfort and to
remember the gracious fact that each individual was a symbol, a
sorry and dilapidated one perhaps, but nevertheless a symbol of
the majesty and might of Greater Britain. In addition to the
royal message there came two days later the stimulating intelligence
that Kimberley had been relieved, and that Lord Roberts
was advancing on Bloemfontein!

On Majuba Day, all made sure that some sort of attack might
be expected, and they prepared to welcome it with a salute from
the new howitzer gun which had engaged the genius of the siege
arsenal. The Boers, however, were quiet. A good deal of psalm-singing
took place in the Boer camp, while the besieged put the big
gun through his paces.

Ash Wednesday was observed without sackcloth and ashes.
Mafeking had been enjoying Lenten abstinence for months past,
and therefore when, at the service on the following Sabbath, the
parson reminded them that it was the fast season, every one in
the church enjoyed the joke so hugely that smiles were with difficulty
suppressed. As one of the congregation afterwards suggested,
they had had so much “Extra Special” fasting that they ought to
be let off Lenten obligations for five years.

SOUTH AFRICAN LIGHT HORSE (Trooper).

BRABANT’S HORSE (Trooper).

DUKE OF EDINBURGH’S VOLUNTEER RIFLES (Dispatch Rider).

Photos by J. E. Bruton, Cape Town.

[Pg 121]

CHAPTER V

AT CHIEVELEY AGAIN

On the 8th of February General Buller again retired
across the Tugela. He realised that his whole flanking
movement had been a failure, and though the ill-success
has been attributed to many causes, we may
safely say that the main cause of the fiasco was the
insufficient rapidity with which the scheme was conducted. Napoleon
declared that flank marches should be as short, and executed in as
brief a time, as possible. Celerity and concealment in these cases
must go hand in hand, and when celerity is overlooked concealment
becomes impossible. Delay had given the Boers the opportunity to
shift their positions and produce a new front even more powerful
than that at Colenso. The General’s idea had been, after taking
Vaal Krantz, to entrench it as the pivot of further operations, but
the experience of two days’ hard fighting taught him that, owing to
the nature of the ground, and the despatch of the Dutchmen, the
plan was far from practicable. The position was found to be
dominated in every direction by the enemy, and unless Vaal
Krantz could be held securely during the advance to Ladysmith,
it was thought advisable not to hold it at all. For this reason
the Natal Field Force returned to Chieveley, the original scene
of operations, where the “Red Bull,” as the Boers called him,
with indomitable energy, planned out a fourth scheme of attack.
It was now to be directed against the Boer left. The battle
of the 15th of December was mainly directed against the Boer
right, as there were reasons to believe the right to be the weaker
of the two flanks. That attack had failed for reasons we know.
Circumstances having changed, and more guns and men being
now at his disposal, the General determined to direct his energies
to the Boer left. The task was a complicated one. Both river
and hills twist themselves mysteriously, and seemingly in conspiracy
with Boer notions of defence. For instance, the river after
leaving Colenso (which may be looked upon as the Boer centre)
twists invisibly into the shelter of the impregnable kopjes, and
takes a direct turn towards the north, thereby passing in front of
the Boer right and in rear of the Boer left. By taking to themselves
possession of Hlangwane the enemy had made their position
almost unassailable. This formidable left ran in a series of trenches,[Pg 122]
sangars, and rifle-pits from Colenso past the thorn-bushes by the
river, and on to the powerfully fortified hill of Hlangwane. From
thence it was extended over the ridge called Green Hill, and farther
to the companion eminences of Cingolo and Monte Cristo, and the
nek that united them. The first thing, therefore, to be done in a
plan for turning this formidable position was to take possession of
Hussar Hill, which was accomplished on the 14th of February, from
which day and on till the 27th fighting without cessation took place.
Some one called it the fighting march, for it was a series of ferociously
contested moves from Chieveley to Hussar Hill, and thence
via Cingolo Nek and Monte Cristo Ridge till the Boer line had
been turned and the British forces had placed themselves diagonally
across the left of the Boer position. Having worked round in a
species of hoop, which crumpled the Boer left before it, and having
deposited men and guns to mark as milestones the victorious
advance, a frontal advance was soon made on Green Hill, the
adjacent slope some three miles from Hlangwane, which mountain
became, as a natural consequence of the foregoing proceedings, a
somewhat easy prize. The victory at Monte Cristo, which enabled
us to acquire Green Hill, may be looked upon as the turning of the
tide. From the hour that commanding point was occupied the
future of the relieving army was practically secure, for the river was
gained, and the Boers once on the run, there needed only the fine
fighting quality of our troops—the A1 quality of the world—to
bring things to a satisfactory conclusion. But now to try to follow
this complicated and well-considered march.

On the 12th of February a force of mounted infantry, with a
battalion of infantry, a field-battery, and a Colt battery, reconnoitred
Hussar Hill (so called because it was the scene of the
surprise to a picket of the 13th Hussars), a long ridge situated
at the south of Hlangwane, where General Buller subsequently
established his headquarters. The South African Light Horse
and another Colt battery were treated to some fierce volleys by
the enemy, with the result that Lieutenant J. Churchill and another
officer were wounded. Four men were injured and one was missing.
The fight was a brisk one, though of but half-an-hour’s duration, for
the hill was not strongly held. The troops then moved forwards,
winding through a series of wooded ridges to the right, till they
reached an entrenched ridge connecting Hlangwane with higher
hills on the east. As there were continual increases and changes
in regard to the troops, it will be found advisable, before going
further, to refer to a table of the distribution of the forces as far
as they were then known:[Pg 123]—

SIR REDVERS BULLER’S FORCE

Second Division.—(Major-General Lyttelton).—2nd (Hildyard’s) Brigade—2nd
East Surrey; 2nd West Yorks; 2nd Devons; 2nd West Surrey. 4th
(Norcott’s Brigade)—1st Rifle Brigade; 1st Durham Light Infantry; 3rd
King’s Royal Rifles; 2nd Scottish Rifles (Cameronians); Squadron 13th
Hussars; 7th, 14th, and 66th Field Batteries.

Third Division.—5th (Hart’s) Brigade—1st Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers;
1st Connaught Rangers; 2nd 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 13th Hussars; 63rd,
64th, and 73rd Field Batteries.

Fifth Division.—(Lieutenant-General Sir Charles Warren).—10th
(Coke’s) Brigade—2nd Dorset; 2nd Middlesex; 2nd Somerset Light Infantry.
11th (Wynne’s) Brigade—2nd Royal Lancaster; 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers;
1st South Lancashire; 1st York and Lancaster; Squadron 13th Hussars;
19th, 20th, and 28th Field Batteries. Corps Troops—1st Royal Dublin Fusiliers;
Imperial Light Infantry; Thorneycroft’s Mounted Infantry; 61st Field
Battery (Howitzers); 78th Field Battery; Natal Battery, 9-pounders; twelve
Naval 12-pounder quick-firers; 4th Mountain Battery; two 4.7 Naval guns,
1st Cavalry Brigade (Burn-Murdoch)—1st Royal Dragoons; 14th Hussars;
Gough’s Composite Regiment. 2nd Cavalry Brigade (Dundonald)—Natal Carabineers
(squadron); South African Light Horse (four squadrons); Imperial
Light Horse (squadron); Natal Police (squadron).

General Lyttelton succeeded General Clery (disabled by blood-poisoning)
in command of the Second Division, while Colonel
Norcott (Rifle Brigade) temporarily took command of the Fourth
Brigade.

On the 14th the army moved to occupy the new position on
Hussar Hill. As we know, the irregular cavalry, the South African
Horse, had secured the position, and some disappointed Boers who
had thought to be beforehand with them had disappeared with much
haste and not a little chagrin. After a short time Generals Wynne
Coke, and Barton with their respective brigades joined Sir Charles
Warren’s division, and bivouacked on the new ground. There was
some trouble about water, as Hussar Hill was arid and the nearest
river was some miles away. However, necessity is the mother of
invention, and necessity brought to light a system of water-waggons
by which a small but appreciable amount of water was carried to the
troops. While this was going on above, General Lyttelton was
moving to the east of Chieveley round the eastern spur of Hussar
Hill.

Here during the afternoon a number of Boers hiding among the
boulders and dense scrub made themselves obstreperous; but their
fire was overcome by our artillery, and before long they were
dislodged.

Little happened for two days save some artillery duelling, then[Pg 124]
an appreciable advance was made. A wooded hill called Cingolo,
part of the range east of Hlangwane, was the next to be seized
by an adroit flanking movement of the infantry. They gained and
kept the top of the hill with but few casualties owing to the dense
cover.

At dawn on the 17th a general advance was ordered. Consequently
soon after midnight the business of movement began. At
daybreak the cavalry under Lord Dundonald marched to discover
the enemy’s left flank through the tangled and rugged country to
the east—country so broken and wooded that on occasions it was
impossible to ride, and all that could be done was to lead the horses
through thicket, and thorns, and over boulders by the light of intelligence
rather than military regime. And while this was going on
the artillery was performing a boisterous symphony on seventy instruments,
an aubade to awaken such Boers as might still be dozing
in rock, ravine, or ridge in the regions of Hlangwane.

At last the troopers had wormed and torn and scrambled their
way up the ridge, where, on arriving, the Boers accosted them
with the music of musketry in tolerably fast time. Bullets whizzed
and commenced to send the now well-known cataracts over the
advancing troops, and for the moment it seemed to be a toss up as
to whether the toil of gaining the position would be in vain. However,
the Boers were in small number, and very soon they fell back,
leaving the top of the hill before the advance of the Imperial Light
Horse and the Natal Carabineers, who slew or captured some
Burghers and horses. In their attack they were supported by the
Queen’s, the right battalion of Hildyard’s attack, who had taken
a short cut and came up in the nick of time, so that the Boers
promptly scurried off and left the troops in undisturbed possession
of Cingolo Hill.[Pg 125]

The Scene of the Fighting at Monte Cristo Hill on February 19.

(From sketches taken during the action by Captain P. U. Vigors, 2nd Devon Regiment.)

Further important movements took place on the 18th. Through
the operations of the day before, the Boers had been hunted along
towards Monte Cristo, and from thence at daylight they commenced
to pour Creusot shells on the British troops. The Queen’s, who had
bivouacked on the northern slope of Cingolo, and came in for a good
deal of fire, valiantly crossed the nek, and, supported by the rest of
the 2nd Brigade under General Hildyard, assaulted and finally took
the southern end of Monte Cristo. The 4th Brigade occupied the
left or western slope. Operations were begun very early, and the
long precipitous climb in a baking sun occupied till midday. The
advance over country that is trellised with spruits, dongas, thorn-bush,
and scrub at times was painfully slow, and the scrambling
and stumbling, sometimes on all fours, to the roll and rattle of
musketry and the banging of unseen and unlocatable guns occupied
some hours. The words of the Scripture, “Eyes have[Pg 126]
they and see not,” might have been applied to this nerve-trying
assault against hidden men with smokeless weapons. No sooner
had the troops reached the top of Monte Cristo than they were
assailed by a well-directed artillery fire from the direction of the
invisible foe, shrapnel, Maxim, and Nordenfeldt guns pouring over
the men as they advanced. But they steadily pushed on and up
till at last they entirely routed the Boers. These, finding themselves
in a desperate situation, took to their heels, leaving tents,
food, biltong, lard, potatoes, onions, clothing, bridles, blankets, and
Bibles behind them in disarray. In their retreat they were fired on
by the cavalry, but they made small reply. Quantities of ammunition
were captured, and, unfortunately for those who still maintained
their respect for the enemy, several forms of expanding
bullets. The Royal Welsh Fusiliers, supported by the rest of the
6th Brigade, assailed the eastern flank of the enemy’s position. The
2nd Brigade of Cavalry on the extreme right watched the eastern
slopes of Monte Cristo, and drove back those of the enemy who
scurried there to escape the artillery fire. They had been completely
taken by surprise; they had expected the British to begin
a frontal attack on Green Hill, a smooth grassy eminence sliced
with the gashes of Boer entrenchments, some of these six feet in
depth, others blasted in the solid rock. Assaulted now by big
guns in front and flank, attacked in flank and rear, the enemy,
without offering much resistance, evacuated their strong positions
and fled across the Tugela. That their flight was precipitate was
testified by the fact that they even left letters behind. One of these
was from General Joubert in answer to a request for supports, in
which he said these could not be sent; the position was sufficiently
garrisoned with the men they had.

The crest of Monte Cristo gained, all at once took heart. This
hill was the hinge on which all the subsequent movements turned.
By means of it Green Hill and the frowning eminence of Hlangwane
could become ours. From Hlangwane the whole western section
of the great Colenso position could be rendered untenable by the
enemy. This the Boers well knew, and this was the reason for their
tough resistance on the dreadful 15th of December. Now, seeing us
masters of Monte Cristo, they wisely decided to make themselves
scarce. The British guns once mounted on Monte Cristo made a
complete difference in the situation. It was now possible to enfilade
many of the choice positions which for two months had been the
snug hiding-places of the enemy. Now, in the distance, was visible—the
subject of many dreams, many nightmares—Ladysmith.
Around it, here and there, were dotted the enemy’s camps and
hospitals—only eight miles away—a comfortable walking distance—eight
miles ahead of our advanced lines! Ladysmith—an austere[Pg 127]
queen to be wooed, a fainting beauty to be won—so she had
seemed, with lives risked and sacrificed like mere handfuls of
sand for the sake of her, for a few yards of approach near to that
cestus which engirdled all the grand British blood that had
palpitated for our coming, so long, so very long. It was glorious
merely to know that Ladysmith was now in sight of the British
picquets: there was a sense of exhilaration in the thought of
real progress after the ghastly six days at Spion Kop, the fluctuating
four at Vaal Krantz, the fourteen in and out and round about
the precincts of fatal Colenso. Success was now almost within a
stone’s throw, and all hearts throbbed with expectation and confidence.
All were in some way longing for the handclasp of
those beleaguered men. There, in that cup of the hills were
kindred; if not kindred, friends; if not friends, comrades in arms—comrades
who had belonged to the same old regiments or “ground”
with the same “crammers” at the same schools. And even for
complete strangers there was a thrill of excitement, almost of exultation,
at the prospect of coming in touch with these men, of grasping
hands with renowned warriors, every one of whom had helped
to illuminate one of the most sumptuous pages of the history of the
nineteenth century.

The intense heat, the terrific toil, the unparalleled hardships were
forgotten. The energy and dash of the troops, hitherto unfailing,
were now redoubled. They had now taken possession of the most
important ridge which pointed towards the frowning guardian
eminence of the beleaguered concave—Bulwana Hill—and hopes
were high and spirits exuberant. There remained but Pieter’s Hill
between them and the imprisoned multitude. They now saw that
the turn of the tide had arrived, and already they looked towards
the distressed town, veiled in the haze of distance, and pictured
the hour when their long spell of strain and turmoil should meet
its reward. In this day’s fight, the Queens, the Scots Fusiliers, the
Rifle Brigade, and the irregular cavalry had especially distinguished
themselves. It was the distinction of endurance rather than of display.
The dogged perseverance with which they launched themselves
at the positions to be taken, toiling through scrub and thorn,
“potting away” at an invisible foe, was more to be applauded
than more demonstrative feats of heroism. Colenso and Spion
Kop had been showy in their tragedy, but the “fighting march,”
as it was called, was a feat of superb endurance, of obdurate pluck.
A perpetual stumbling and tearing, an eternal pushing up and on
against opposition the more terrifying because unseen; the sound
of booming, smokeless murderous guns; the sight of maimed or
mutilated human beings dropping suddenly under the serene and
smiling sky were experiences to test the grit of the toughest and[Pg 128]
most stoical. A bolt from the blue! That was all. Yet presently
there were dead men littered about, and far away, unconscious of
their woe, were widows and orphans.

On the 19th, Hlangwane Hill—the impregnable Gibraltar, as it
has been called—was taken by the Fusilier Brigade. As this hill,
which commanded Colenso, had been evacuated by the enemy—who
had left three camps and all their paraphernalia, thousands of rounds
of ammunition, and 2000 Maxim automatic shells behind them—we
were now free to cross the Tugela. Whether the enemy would
continue to fight inch by inch was uncertain, but still there was one
subject of rejoicing—the river was ours. The following officers
were killed and wounded during this day’s operations:—2nd Royal
Fusiliers—Killed, Captain W. L. Thurburn; wounded, 2nd Lieutenant
E. C. Packe. 2nd Scottish Rifles—Wounded, 2nd Lieutenant
J. M. Colchester-Wemyss.

On the 20th General Hart, after a slight resistance by a weak
rearguard, occupied the village, and now the line of the Tugela on
the south side from Colenso to Eagle’s Nest was in British hands.

Colenso was found to be a desolate ruin. The enemy had evidently
tried to make matchwood of the place. Windows and doors
told the tale of wanton destruction. They were wrecked past remedy.
Houses everywhere were redolent of the Boer, the walls bore
traces of his illiterate caligraphy, and his offensive remarks in many
tongues amused without disturbing those who read them. They
could afford to smile now. And while they went on their tour of
investigation the hidden Boers could not resist some sniping shots
from their trenches in Port Wylie, which were only silenced by the
forcible arguments of the Naval gunners on Hussar Hill. On this
day another trooper of the South African Light Horse (Walters)
distinguished himself by swimming across the Tugela and bringing
over the pontoon, thus repeating the gallant deed of his comrades at
Potgieter’s Drift. Thorneycroft’s Mounted Infantry, though peppered
by Boers who were ensconced on the kopjes on the opposite side,
succeeded in fording the river, and proceeded to reconnoitre the
kopjes on the other side. All the guns were gone, and the kopjes
themselves seemed to be weakly held. In the distance small clusters
of Boers were seen in the act of digging trenches, but it was
generally believed that the enemy’s tactics were now those of a
rearguard action.

THE RELIEF OF LADYSMITH—THE LAST RUSH AT HLANGWANE HILL.

From a Sketch by René Bull, War Artist.

Terrible reminiscences of the battle of Colenso greeted them
wherever they turned. Fort Wylie was seamed with bombardment.
The railway bridge remained a lamentable picture of upheaval. Outside
the village, lying as they had dropped, were the rotted carcases
of horses which had fallen victims to the enemy’s volleys—fallen in
tangled masses, all harnessed together, while making a futile effort[Pg 129]
to save the guns of the 14th and 66th Batteries. The trenches,
beginning on the very brink of the river, with their protective layers
of sandbags and their ingeniously arranged earthworks, told how
comfortably and with what immunity from danger the Boers had set
about their fell work on the fatal 15th of December. The labour in
making Colenso and its surroundings impregnable must have been
as immense as it was skilful.

General Hart’s advanced guard now proceeded to cross the
Tugela, the Boers having vacated all their positions south of the
river, and on the 21st he was followed by the 5th Division, who
drove back the enemy’s rearguard. The enemy had moved north
and turned into a strongly fortified line of kopjes midway between
the river and Grobler’s Kloof, and from thence there was some
doubt whether he could ever be displaced. At the approach of the
British, he, however, retired precipitately towards Grobler’s Kloof.

The crossing, on both days, of the magnificent infantry was apiece
with all that had gone before. First came one shell, then another,
but the troops steadily pursued their warlike course while the missiles
hurtling over their heads exploded in the plain behind them. The
great question had been as to where the river should be crossed.
Now that the British were in possession of the whole area of
Hlangwane and its connecting hills, it was possible to cross either
where the river ran north and south, or where it ran east and west.
The idea was to cross and get along the line of railroad, and follow
a straight course up to Ladysmith. The enemy were believed to be
in retreat, and therefore it seemed perfectly feasible to advance in
the way attempted.

On the 21st the gunners continued persistently at work, determining
that the Dutchmen should have no spare time for the
building of further entrenchments. The foe managed, however, to
render themselves aggressive by firing on an ambulance train that
was steaming out of Colenso station. Meanwhile the army was
moving westward from Hlangwane plateau, with a view to marching
up beyond the stream, and getting out of the valley of the river and
beyond the kopjes that frowned over it.

LADYSMITH

The story of famine is an insidious story, a creeping horror that,
scarcely visible, yet slowly and very gradually saps first the spirits,
then the energies, then the blood, and finally all the little sparks of
being that serve to divide us from the dead. The seal of hunger
was set on every action, though there was no complaint. The
cramped-up Tommy in his sangar was scarcely as conscious of his
risk of danger from shot and shell as of the aching void that assured[Pg 130]
him how much nature abhorred a vacuum. When he marched, he
marched now with the step of one who husbands his resources;
when he whistled as of old, he ceased abrupt, the lung power being
scant and short-lived. His eyes, plucky and Britishly dogged, grew
large and wistful, as though looking for something that never came.
Dysentery and fever caught him and left him, but left him still in
charge of famine, which held him in leading-strings, allowing him his
freedom to crawl so far and no farther. Yet daily routine went on
as of yore. The shadow of the man went on picket or fatigue duty
and met his fellow-shadows as often as not with a jest. In ordinary
life you don’t look upon cheek-bones as the features of a face. You
take stock of eyes, nose, mouth, possibly ears. In Ladysmith a
man’s character betrayed itself in his cheek-bones and in the anæmic
tone of the tanned parchment that was stretched across them. You
could read of patience and heroism in the hard, distinct outlines, and
comprehend the magnificent endurance of one who, expecting to
fight like a devil, was condemned to feed like an anchorite.

The men were very near the barbaric brink of starvation. On
one occasion a shell plumped into the mule lines and killed a mule.
There was a general rush. Shells followed on the first, crashing all
around, but the famished racing throng heeded them not; their one
desire was to get at the slain beast, to capture the wherewithal to
stay their grievous cravings. Quickly with their clasp-knives they
possessed themselves of great chunks of the flesh, and then, with
death hurtling around them and over their heads, they proceeded to
carry their prize to safer quarters. Here they determined to have a
good “tuck-in.” Fires were kindled, and the flesh was toasted and
swallowed with lightning rapidity.

For some weeks the inhabitants had been reduced to an essence
of horse politely termed Chevril, which was declared to be both
palatable and nourishing. The horses, with their ribs shining in
painful high lights along their skins, dropped day after day from
sheer famine, and were boiled down to meet the pressing demand.
Their bones were gelatinous, however wizened their poor flesh.

The horses that were used for food, like those that yet crawled,
were mere skeletons. When the General, in view of making another
sortie, inquired how many there were in camp that could still carry
their rider for six miles, he was informed that there were only twelve
equal to the task.

The lack of fat and milk and vegetables was irremediable, but
dainties, so called, were provided in curious ways. Blancmange was
manufactured from ladies’ violet-powder which had been “commandeered”
for service in the kitchen, and biscuits were fried by
the men in the axle-grease provided for the carts, in hope to make
the task of biting them less like crunching ashes.[Pg 131]

The place itself appeared to be becoming the Abomination of
Desolation. Many of the dwellings were unoccupied; the low bungalow-shaped
villas were closed and barricaded; here and there
were buildings cracked and seamed by shot and shell, with great
gaps in their faces, reminding one of human beings without eyes and
teeth. Melancholy and depression reigned everywhere—on the
tangled, desolated gardens, as on the silent, listless men, who had
almost ceased to converse, for there was nothing left to converse
about. Buller’s coming had been discussed threadbare; the prospect
of the food holding out had been examined in all its hideous
emptiness. Lassitude and weariness was the universal expression on
the visages of the hollow-eyed spectres that were the remains of the
dashing heroes of Glencoe and Elandslaagte. The land and riverbeds
presented the appearance of a series of grottoes, shelters of
wood, stone, and wire, the dens of wild animals, the caves of primitive
man. Between the burrows and caves were sentry-paths and
paths to the water-tanks, worn with the incessant traffic of weary
feet.

Though affairs were arriving at a sorry pass, there were still
some wonderful recoveries. For instance, Captain Paley (Rifle
Brigade), who was wounded in both hips, was getting on amazingly.
Though the leg was badly shattered near the joint of the hip, there
was every reason to hope that it might be saved. Captain Mills,
too, was mending. To have a bullet pass through the lung and
pierce the spinal column is not a common experience, and one that
few recover from; yet the doctors gave hopeful reports. They
had scarcely thought that Major Hoare would outlive a fractured
skull—completely riddled they said it was—yet the Major was expected
to be himself again shortly. These were marvellous cases,
and probably the wounded owed their curious recovery to the nature
of the weapon of offence. Missiles have peculiar characteristics,
and differ in their capacity for deadliness. For instance, bullets of
the most harmless kind are those having a high velocity, those that
hit apex-first and do not “keyhole,” and those possessing a hard,
smooth sheath with a smooth, rounded surface. After these come
missiles of more death-dealing or mutilating nature—the Dum-Dum
bullets, with the nickel sheaths around the apex removed in order to
expose the lead nucleus, Remington lead or brass bullets, shrapnel
bullets, and fragments of shell. Each and all of these things had
been endured by one or other of our gallant men during the course
of the campaign, and the surgeons were able to make a profound
study of causes and effects. One of the heroes of Ladysmith who
went near to testing the efficacy of that most deadly thing, the shell,
was Archdeacon Barker. With the utmost presence of mind, he
picked up a shell in the act of exploding and plumped it into a tub[Pg 132]
of water, thus saving many lives. Numbers of officers who had
been hit by Mausers or Lee-Metfords were now pronounced out of
danger, among them Colonel C. E. Beckett (Staff), Major F. Hammersley
(Staff), Captain W. B. Silver, Captain M. J. W. Pike, Major
H. Mullaly, Lieutenants Crichton, S. C. Maitland, W. W. MacGregor
(of the Gordons), and A. A. G. Bond. Captain Lowndes,
who was wounded dangerously on Surprise Hill, was picking up
wonderfully. Lieutenant Campbell, of the Imperial Light Horse,
whose case at first seemed serious, was rapidly gaining ground.

Very capricious sometimes was the action of bullets. Some of
the injured would have as many as four or five wounds, all “outers,”
to use their musketry phrase, while others would suffer strange and
wonderful things in consequence of the vagaries of a single shot.
A strange chapter of accidents befell one officer. He was hit under
the left eye, the bullet passing out of his cheek into his left shoulder,
and then into his upper arm, which it broke. Not content with
doing this damage, the shock of the blow knocked him down, and in
falling the unfortunate man broke the other arm! On the other
hand, there were some, reported doing well, and expecting to be fit
for duty shortly, who were veritably perforated with bullets—“a
perfect sieve” one man called himself, with a touch of excusable
pride.

The bravery of these men! The bravery of these women!
Outside we knew only of the husk of their suffering; but the kernel
of it, the bitter sickening taste of it, the taste that lived with them,
that was there when they woke, and remained after they had closed
their eyes in sleep—that, none but themselves could ever know.
Boredom and flies, they jestingly said it was! Rather was it a
slow petrifaction of the soul. Death to them had lost its sting,
as life had lost its fire. Ladysmith was the grave of corpses
that were not dead, forms in the cerements of burial now too
weak to knock themselves against the coffin-lid and cry, “Save
us! our last breath is not yet spent; we are living, loving men!”
Yes, they were too weak. They made no sound, no cry. They
who had so long resisted could resist no longer; they, who with
their last effort on that fatal 6th of January had been a terror to
their enemies, were now only a terror to themselves. Could they
bear it longer? Was it possible? Might they not in some fit of
madness, some palpitating moment of lust for dear life, begin to
spell the letters of the unframable word, begin just to think how it
might be spelt?—S—u—r—r— No! They could not get to the
end of it! It choked them. They could stand the fetid water, the
foul air with its loathsome whispers, its hideous suggestions, which
at eventide grew strong as phantoms from the nether world; they
could face the sight of virulent disease and gaunt famine stalking[Pg 133]
up and down as the hyena slinks round and about his prey; they
could gasp under the fierce heat; they could tune their ears to the
racking, rending tortuous explosions of death dealing shells—they
could do all this, but they could not get beyond. The first syllable
of the crushing word could never pass their lips!

Food now was only interesting because of its mystery; it was
beginning to have merely an ornamental value in the programme.
Various “confections” made of violet-powder that had been impounded,
strange brawns of mule-heel and suspicious “savouries”
were the subject of speculation and awe. People pretended to
be pleased and to put a good face on matters, and indeed they had
every reason to be thankful; for, owing to the ingenuity of Lieutenant
M’Nalty, A.S.C., under whose auspices potted meats, jellies,
soups, were manufactured, the imagination if not the appetite was
appeased with what, when not too closely investigated, appeared to
be quite delectable fare.

The following prices were realised at an auction on February 21:—Fourteen
lbs. of oatmeal, £2, 19s. 6d.; a tin of condensed milk,
10s.; 1 lb. of fat beef, 11s.; a 1-lb. tin of coffee, 17s.; a 2-lb. tin of
tongue, £1, 6s.; a sucking-pig, £1, 17s.; eggs, £2, 8s. per dozen;
a fowl, 18s.; four small cucumbers, 15s.; green mealies, 3s. 8d.
each; a small quantity of grapes, £1, 5s.; a plate of tomatoes, 18s.;
one marrow, £1, 8s.; a plate of potatoes, 19s.; two small bunches
of carrots, 9s.; a glass of jelly, 18s.; a 1-lb. bottle of jam, £1, 11s.;
a 1-lb. tin of marmalade, £1, 1s.; a dozen matches, 13s. 6d.; a
packet of cigarettes, £1, 5s.; 50 cigars, £9, 5s.; a ¼-lb. cake of
tobacco, £2, 5s.; ½ lb. of tobacco, £3, 5s.

A doctor, writing home about this time, said:—

“Things are getting very trying here now. For two or three
weeks we have had only half a pound of horseflesh and a quarter a
pound of very bad mealie-meal bread, with one ounce of sugar.
Sometimes a little mealie porridge is added or a little more bread.
This is precious low fare, I can tell you, especially as the bread is so
bad we can hardly eat it, and it makes us ill. Of course, drinks
gave out after the first month, and tobacco followed suit some time
ago, but, fortunately, they discovered a little Kaffir tobacco recently,
which, vile as it is, we smoke eagerly. Alas! mine won’t last long
now. It is impossible to get proper food for patients, and not much
of improper. Consequently men are beginning to die fast of scurvy,
enteric, and dysentery. We have reduced the number of sick from
two thousand to seventeen hundred here, of which I have about a
hundred severe cases, and am allowed about two to three wineglasses
of stimulants a day for the lot; so you can imagine what a
farce that is. Drugs, too, are almost finished, and firewood for[Pg 134]
cooking is an endless difficulty; so you can imagine I am pretty
tired of the daily duty in these terrible fever-tents. About half of
our doctors and half the nurses are sick, and there were always few
enough. One doctor has already died and a nurse.”

Among the severe cases alluded to was one especially to be
deplored. Colonel Royston, whose name is intimately connected
with Volunteering in Natal, was hopelessly ill. In spite of his iron
constitution, he succumbed to the ravages of enteric fever, and was in
reality marked by the finger of death at the very time when the relief
force was pressing to deliver the town from the awful doom that
hung like a miasma over the whole place. The gallant Colonel had
done splendid service, and for two decades had worked energetically
to promote the welfare of the Colony and stimulate interest in the
Volunteer movement. As trumpeter in the Carabineers in 1872, the
youth was found engaging in operations against Langalibalele, including
the flying column in the Double Mountains and the capture
of the chief; and in 1879, in command of a troop of Carabineers, he
distinguished himself in the Zulu campaign. Later he accompanied
Sir Bartle Frere to the Transvaal in command of the High Commissioner’s
escort. From 1881 to 1889 he commanded the regiment,
and was appointed Commandant of Volunteers in 1898. When
the call to arms came, the brave Volunteers of Natal were ready to
a man, fully equipped to go to the front—a practical proof of the
splendid ability and foresight of their chief. All agreed in deploring
his illness, and declared that an officer more fitted to lead the gallant
regiment, more trusted and more beloved, it would be hard to find.

THE BATTLE OF PIETERS

On Wednesday the 21st, as we know, our troops were back at
Colenso. The day was mainly devoted to “sniping,” to bringing
up heavy guns, and to getting the troops across the Tugela.
But the 12-pounder Naval guns on Hlangwane, and the 61st
Howitzer Battery in the open, indulged in a stupendous concert
addressed to the enemy’s position, in which they were assisted
from below Monte Cristo on the right by more Naval guns.
The enemy was not inactive. No sooner had a pontoon been
thrown across the river below Hlangwane than they began to
drop shells in the neighbourhood of the troops who were attempting
to cross. These, however, accomplished their intention without
sustaining much loss. Meanwhile, Corporal Adams, of the
Telegraph Brigade, distinguished himself by swimming across the
Tugela, wire in mouth. The troops now advanced—General
Coke’s Brigade, followed by two battalions of General Wynne’s
and a field-battery. The Somersets, Dorsets, Middlesex, covered[Pg 135]
by shell-fire from two field-batteries and the heavy guns, moved
across the plain to the foot of the hill, with the object of reconnoitring
Grobler’s Kloof. At first no signs of the enemy were
visible, the Dutchmen, though not entrenched, being cunningly[Pg 136]
hidden in the dongas and thorn-bushes, which crowded the vicinity.
But no sooner had the Somersets, who had been the first across
the pontoon, approached the base of the hill, than a cataract from
the rifles of the enemy suddenly burst over them. The Boers had
withheld their fire till the troops were within point-blank range,
and then rent the weird mystery of the dusk with jets of flame.
Nearly a hundred of the gallant fellows dropped and three officers
were killed. Some said that they were fighting the enemy’s rearguard,
but in reality a large portion of the whole Boer army was
engaged. Though it was the first time the regiment had been under
fire, the admirable behaviour of the men in the face of overwhelming
hostile numbers was remarkable. Nevertheless, the unpleasant discovery
of the enemy’s strength at last involved the retreat of the
troops, and decided the General that an advance in force must be
made on the following day.

Balloon Map illustrating the Battle of Pieters
and Relief of Ladysmith.

The following officers were killed and wounded in the operations
of 20th and 21st February:—

1st Rifle Brigade—Wounded, Lieutenant W. R. Wingfield-Digby. 2nd
Somersetshire Light Infantry—Killed, Captain S. L. V. Crealock, Lieutenant
V. F. A. Keith-Falconer, Second Lieutenant J. C. Parr; wounded, Captain
E. G. Elger. 2nd Dorsetshire Regiment—Wounded, Second Lieutenant
F. Middleton. 2nd Royal Irish Fusiliers—Wounded, Colonel J. Reeves.
Staff—Wounded, Captain H. G. C. Phillips. Royal Army Medical Corps—Died
of wounds, Captain R. E. Holt.

On Thursday the 22nd, part of General Wynne’s Brigade began
to advance. They were supported by Hildyard’s Brigade from the
region of Fort Wylie. (General Barton’s Brigade and part of
General Hart’s were left on the south side of the river.) Progress
was slow and painful. The country—a strip some two miles broad
and stretching out between high hills and the river—was richly
veined with irritating dongas and covered with bushes and scrub.
The position was commanded by the wooded slopes of Grobler’s
Kloof, and enabled the Boers to worry the men in their advance
with an enfilading fire. All around were steep kopjes such as the
Boer soul delights in, and thorny tangles which afforded comfortable
shelter for the enemy’s guns. The movement, therefore,
was costly, as it was difficult to locate the guns, and the sharpshooters
of the enemy, well hidden in their rocky fastnesses, maintained
a continuous fire on front and flanks of the advancing force.
With their usual wiliness, the Dutchmen had evidently suspended
their contemplated retreat, and had gathered together, crept up,
and taken up a strong position on the left flank, whence they were
enabled to hamper the troops considerably. Nevertheless the Royal
Lancasters leading, the South Lancashire following, valiantly advanced
towards their objective so resolutely that the Boers, who[Pg 137]
almost to the last stood their ground, pelted off to the sheltering
nooks and dongas in the shadow of Grobler’s Kloof. Only one
remained to face the bayonet. But the losses consequent on this
smart day’s work were many. Brigadier-General Wynne while
conducting operations was slightly wounded, and about a hundred
and fifty more were put out of action.

MAJOR-GENERAL A. FITZROY HART, C.B.

Photo by Elliott & Fry, London.

The troops were now moving on a route along the line of river
and rail to Ladysmith, half-way between Colenso and Pieters Hill,
and with kopjes to be stormed at intervals during the onward course.
They had performed a species of zigzag movement, pointing from
Chieveley north-east to Cingolo and Monte Cristo, and coming back
in an acute line north-west to the river. Now the forward march
involved the capture of all the strong positions, beginning with
the twin kopjes, Terrace and Railway Hill, and ending with the
whole Pieters position, and possibly Bulwana.

On the three hills—Terrace Hill, Railway Hill, and Pieters
Hill—rested the Boers’ second line of defence. The first hill, called
Terrace Hill, lay about a mile and a half to north-east of the right
flank. Farther east, divided by a valley, was Railway Hill, so called
because on its east came the railway line, on the other side of which
was Pieters Hill. Sir Redvers Buller’s plan was to advance the
infantry beyond the angle of the river, and then stretch round the
enemy’s left from Railway Hill, and so go straight to Ladysmith.
The idea seemed a good one, as the Dutchmen were believed to be
moving off; but it was afterwards discovered that they, seeing the
assault was not to be made at once upon the weak, the left edge
of their position, had gathered courage and returned, reinforced by
commandos from Ladysmith, to their well-known hunting-ground
on Grobler’s Kloof and elsewhere, preparing to give battle so long as
there was safety for their extreme left. Most of the night of the
22nd was spent in fighting of desperate character, the Howitzer
Battery keeping up an incessant roar, explosion following explosion
in the sombre blackness of midnight. The Boers, meanwhile, were
attacking with rifle fire all along the line, and so persistent were the
Dutchmen in their effort to get rid of the troops, that some even
were only repulsed by the bayonet.

Details of that dreadful night’s work are scarce, but a faint, yet
tragic, outline was given by an officer of the 60th Rifles, who was one
of the survivors of the fatal fray. This regiment had moved on the
left of Hildyard’s Brigade, and were swinging along a boulder-strewn
hillside, which, surmounted by a series of uneven and indefinite
crest-lines, gave on to a plateau where they intended to take up a
line of outposts for the night. It so happened that the Boers had
ensconced themselves at the rear edge of the position which the
troops, in the belief that it was evacuated, were so incautiously[Pg 138]
approaching. Accordingly, in the gathering gloom a collision of
amazing violence occurred—amazing to both Britons and Burghers,
for the former surprisedly plumped upon the Dutchmen, who as
surprisedly gave way before them. In an instant the gallant 60th
were after the fugitives, charging and cheering, but assailed now
by fierce volleys from undreamed-of trenches. This sudden and
furious attack forced them, unsupported as they were, to seek
cover till reinforcements could arrive. But no help appeared.
The plight of the unfortunate band, whose peril had been hidden
in the grim density of the night, was entirely unsuspected by the
companion forces that fringed the crests in the vicinity, and therefore
the unhappy fellows lay all night clinging to the cover of the
boulders, and rained on by showers of bullets that traced a tale of
agony along the ground. At dawn on the 23rd, no supports having
arrived, and under the same fervid fusillade, they began to retire.
In twos and threes they commenced to go back, finally covered in
their retreat by the East Surreys, who had grandly gone forward
to the rescue. But the cost of splendid succour was dearly and
almost instantaneously paid. Men fell thick and fast over the
hilltop—the Colonel, second in command, and four officers of the
East Surrey Regiment dropping one after another, some wounded
in many places. Captain the Hon. R. Cathcart, “the rearmost of
his command, as he had been foremost of the night before,” dropped
dead, and round him within a few moments fifty other noble fellows
had passed to the Unknown!

General Buller’s orders on the 23rd were brief. Push for
Ladysmith to-day, horse, foot, and artillery; both cavalry brigades
to cross the river at once. The advance, which had hitherto
been slow, was now hurried on. At midday it was in full swing,
the cavalry having crossed the Tugela and massed at Fort Wylie.
Meanwhile the Boers had taken up a formidable position on the
right—on the well-entrenched height called by the gunners Three
Knoll Hill, to describe the three hills, Terrace, Railway, and
Pieters, that formed the entire position—while on the left they
plied their activities from Grobler’s Kloof. The artillery in front
of Railway Hill concentrated a brisk fire upon the Boers therein
entrenched, who returned some animated replies, assisted by other
Dutchmen from a hidden vantage-point on the north-east of that
eminence. General Hart’s Brigade, to whose valiant Irishmen the
difficult task of capturing the position was entrusted, was ordered
to advance. This advance from Onderbrook Spruit to the base of
Terrace Hill, the companion of Railway Hill, was a feat of cool
courage that has seldom been equalled. The hill, triangular and
standing some three hundred feet above the Tugela, was approached
by a wide open space, which was commanded by the Boers, whose[Pg 139]
complicated position on Railway Hill and its component ridges gave
them every advantage. The correspondent of the Standard furnished
a description of these precipitous steeps. “Railway Hill rises
from the Tugela a mile from Platelayers’ House. It is, perhaps,
best described as triangular in shape, with one angle pointing
towards the river. It rises from the latter in a series of jagged,
boulder-strewn kopjes, until three hundred feet or so above the
Tugela. A kloof, through which the railway passes upwards on
its way to Pieters Station, separates the last jagged ledge from
the hill proper. From the last kopje or ledge, and immediately on
the other side of the line, the main part of the hill rises abruptly,
almost precipitously, with a sharp edge running back in a north-westerly
direction for several hundred yards. The base of this
north-westerly line of hill makes up a kloof thick with thorn trees,
and this kloof recedes round the left end of the hill to the rear,
where the enemy’s force, under Commandant Dupreez, had its
quarters, while a little farther to the rear is still another kloof, in
which the enemy’s Creusots were mounted. Along the beginning of
the sharp edge referred to a long trench was cut out, and right ahead,
as the hill ran still upwards on an incline for three hundred yards or
so, were other trenches, until the hill terminated in a crest crowded
with commanding fortifications.” To assail this formidable stronghold
the troops moved off in the following order—the Inniskilling Fusiliers
leading, followed by the Connaught Rangers, the Dublin Fusiliers,
and the Imperial Light Infantry. Steadily marched the kharki-clad
throng, advancing along the railroad in single file with rifles at the
slope. At that time there was comparative silence save for the
muffled drumming of artillery in the surrounding kopjes. These
apparently frowned free of human influence, the dark, dull frown
that portends many evil things to the eye of the advancing soldier.
But nevertheless the troops moved nearer and nearer to the hill
over the open ground by the railway bridge with a steady step and
that air of consolidated distinction that marks acutely the difference
between Briton and Boer armies. They had no sooner showed
themselves in the open than the air grew alive, the trenches on
the frowning hill vomited furiously. A casual observer remarked
that it reminded him of the pantomimes of his youth, of Ali
Baba’s cave, when, at a given signal, its jars opened and the forty
thieves suddenly—simultaneously—popped up their heads. Only now
there were not forty but thousands of brigandish forms—forms that
hastened to deal death from their Mausers on the advancing men.
These were now coming on at a rush, a rush through the hailstorm
whose every shower meant disaster. But Hart the valiant had
said, “That hill must be taken at all costs”—and that was enough!
The hill was about to be seized and the payments had already begun.[Pg 140]
One, two, three, four, six—more and yet more down, one after
another. So the men began to fall. The ironwork of the bridge
had now its fringe of fainting forms. Still the splendid fellows
pushed on. Still the air reverberated with the puissant pom-poming
of the Boers’ automatic gun. This they had turned on to
the position they knew must be passed by the advancing warriors.
Meanwhile the British artillery was saluting the hill, throwing
up to heaven dust and splinter spouts that filled the whole atmosphere
with blinding, choking debris, and causing the purple
boulders far and wide to give forth rumbling echoes of the infernal
rampage.

Gradually, in face of the deluge of shot and shell, the Inniskilling
Fusiliers, the Connaught Rangers, and one company each of the
Dublin Fusiliers, had wound their way towards the eastern spurs of
Railway Hill, and in the late afternoon were ready for the attack.
General Hart gave the word. Then, up the rugged stone-strewn
heights the troops laboriously began to climb. Soon they reached a
point, some hundred yards above, whence the Boers could pepper
them with ease. At the same time from the adjacent hill more bullets
whizzed upon them. Yet, with this horrible fire on their flanks and
the deadly fusillade from the front, they persevered, dropping one
after another like ripe fruit in a gust of wind. Volley after volley
poured down on them, but up they went, cutting through wire, leaping
boulders, and hurling themselves forward, and in such grand
style, that the Boers, seeing the determined glitter of the bayonet,
thought it wiser to retreat. They receded some two hundred yards
up the hill, while the troops occupied the first position. Then, in
the growing dusk, the Dutchmen were seen taking a commanding
place on a somewhat higher or parent peak of the hill. From this
point the Inniskillings, flushed with their first triumph, deemed it
necessary to rout them. Fire streamed and spouted, the dim gloom
of twilight came on; still the Irishmen, through the mist of
evening and flashings furious from every side, advanced along the
hill—a glorious, a tragic advance. One after another bit the dust.
Men in mute or groaning agony lay prone in the gathering dusk.
First went a major, afterwards another, and then two captains of
this gallant band. The Boers had known their business. Some
of their kopjes are of the nature of spider-webs; the outer fringe
involves entanglement; and this especial eminence was of that
particular nature that the second Boer position commanded the
first. The Dutchmen, even as they receded, were able to mow
down the men as they advanced, by a converging fire, against which
it was impossible to stand. It was now an almost hand-to-hand
struggle between doughty Dutchman and dashing Briton. The
Inniskillings were close, but every inch was gained with appalling[Pg 141]
loss to their numbers—indeed, the charging companies might almost
have been described as individual men!

Finally, some one gave the order to retire. But how? Most
of the valorous band were stricken down, or had perished. The
wounded could not be removed. Yet those that remained were too
few to hold the ground in the darkness. All that could be done was
to retire below the crest and wait till morning. A retirement was
attempted, under the personal direction of the Colonel (Colonel
Sitwell),[4] but in the course of the movement he was hit, never to
rise again. The troops at last got to the cover of the hill, where
they built schanzes and bivouacked. But from this point throughout
the night firing continued, while the Boers above, between the
intervals of dozing, peppered the bivouacs with bullets.

At 7 A.M., while cannonading had elsewhere assumed dangerous
proportions, the Irish regiments were again assailed in their schanzes
by the persistent Dutchmen. These had crept round the base of the
hill and attacked the trenches from the western side. Volleys poured
from all directions on a scene that was already deplorable. Only four
officers of the Inniskillings remained. Of the Connaught Rangers
five officers were wounded. The Dublin Fusiliers had lost their
gallant Colonel (Colonel Sitwell), and also Captain Maitland of the
Gordon Highlanders (attached). The picture at dawn and on
throughout the day was truly appalling. The trenches of the Boers
and those of the attacking force were now only some three or four
hundred yards apart, and between them was spread an arena of
carnage heart-breaking as irremediable. It was impossible for any
one to show a nose and live. Wounded lay here, there, and everywhere,
heaped as they had fallen, drenched in their own gore and
helpless, yet struggling pathetically to edge themselves with hands
or knees or heels nearer some place of safety. Dead, too, were
entangled with the sinking, huddled together in grievous ghastly
comradeship….

For thirty-six hours some of these heroes lay in wretchedness,[Pg 142]
hanging between life and death. Mercifully the Boers brought them
water, but all their acts were not equally generous. Unfortunately,
some misinterpretation regarding the Red Cross flag accentuated the
misfortunes of the day.

The Boers, it appeared, had begun by producing one. This
signal should have been responded to by our troops, who, however,
were not prepared to show another Red Cross flag, which
display would have been the signal for truce. This being the case,
the Boers, after carrying off their wounded and giving certain
of the British wounded some water, removed their rifles. Further,
they rifled their pockets and despoiled dead and wounded of boots
and other property. Naturally, those who saw them were so infuriated
at this wanton behaviour that they began to fire. From
this time hostilities recommenced, and the innate cruelty of the Boers
was evidenced in several cases. It was stated on the authority of
an officer that many of the wounded in act of crawling away were
deliberately shot. Let us hope that the aggravation at the non-appearance
of the British Red Cross flag was the cause of the ugly
display of character on the part of the enemy.

During the late afternoon the worn-out troops in their trenches
at the base of the hill were fiercely attacked by the enemy’s guns
from all quarters. No such effective shell fire had been experienced
since Spion Kop. Indeed, with the assistance of Krupps, and
Creusots, and Maxims, and other diabolical instruments, the Boers
managed to make a fitting concert for Beelzebub. Many of our
positions on the lower slopes of the kopjes were enfiladed, and thus
many gallant fellows in Hildyard’s and Kitchener’s brigades were
killed. Several officers among those who were fighting on the
left also fell, among them Colonel Thorold, Royal Welsh Fusiliers.

At this juncture, finding that the original passage of the river
was commanded by entrenchments on every side, and that further
advance would be costly in the extreme, the General decided that
he must reconnoitre for another passage across the Tugela. This
was forthwith discovered. Meanwhile, the day being Sunday, there
was an armistice for the interment of the dead on both sides.
Grievous were the sensations of those whose duty brought them to
the awesome scene of death, who spent the long hours surrounded
by sights hideous and forms uncouth, the remains of heroes, discoloured
from days of exposure to the sun’s scorching rays, to the
damps and dews of night—lying limply rigid and rigidly limp in the
unmistakable and undescribable abandonment of untenanted clay;
or succouring still more pitiable wrecks, wrecks joined perhaps by
an invisible handclasp with comrades in the other world, but still
here, making a last struggle for the dignity of manhood, or fainting[Pg 143]
slowly, peaceably, beyond all knowledge of pain as of the splendid
heroism that had placed them where they were!

One who was present contributed to Blackwood’s Magazine a
curious account of that armistice—that was not entirely an armistice—of
Colonel Hamilton’s approach with the flag of fraternity (so
often misused and abused by the Dutchmen), and of the strange
apparitions that came forth suspiciously one by one from the depths
of the hostile trenches. He said: “Seldom have I set eyes on a
more magnificent specimen of male humanity than the Commandant
of the trenchful of Boers, Pristorius by name, a son of Anak by descent,
and a gallant, golden-bearded fighting-man by present occupation;
for in far-away Middleburg those mighty limbs—he told it us without
any of that stupid deprecation which would probably have characterised
a similar confession on the part of an Englishman—were
wont to stretch themselves beneath a lawyer’s desk. Close on his
heels came what a person who had never seen Boers before would
have thought the strangest band of warriors in the world—old men
with flowing, tobacco-stained, white beards; middle-aged men with
beards burnt black with the sun and sweat of their forty years;
young men, mostly clean shaven, exhibiting strongly the heavy
Dutch moulding of the broad nose and chin; big boys in small
suits, suits of all kinds and colours, tweed, velveteen, homespun,
and ‘shoddy,’ all untidy in the extreme, but mostly as serviceable
as their wearers.” These strange beings formed a strong contrast
to the men who joined them, particularly in their attitude when confronted
with the ghastly foreground of death which made the prominent
feature of the amicable picture. The eye-witness before
quoted declared that “it was much more difficult for them to conceal
the natural discomposure which all men feel in the presence of
the silent dead than for their more artificial opponents. From the
airy and easy demeanour of the uniformed British officers, that
dreadful plateau might have been the lobby of a London club. A
Briton is at all times prone to conceal his emotions, and certainly in
this instance the idiosyncrasy gave him a great social advantage
over the superstitious Burghers, with their sidelong glances and
uneasy shiftings.” By-and-by, however, both parties grew even
friendly, and the writer went on to describe an animated dialogue
between himself and “a deep-chested old oak-tree of a man, whose
swarthy countenance was rendered more gipsy-like by the addition
of ear-rings. The opening of the conversation had its humours.
‘Good-morning!’ quoth I. ‘Gumorghen,’ rumbled the oak-tree
sourly. ‘Surely we can be friends for five minutes,’ I ventured,
after a pause. The rugged countenance was suddenly, not to say
startlingly, illumined with a beaming smile. ‘Why not, indeed!
why not, officer! Have you any tobacco?’ Out came my pouch,[Pg 144]
luckily filled to bursting that very morning, and the oak-tree proceeded
to stuff a huge pipe to the very brim, gloating over the
fragrance of the ‘best gold flake’ as he did so. The rumour of
tobacco had the effect of dispelling the chill that still lingered on
the outskirts of that little crowd, and many a grimy set of fingers
claimed their share as the price of the friendship of the owners, the
Commandant himself not disdaining to accept a fill with a graceful
word of thanks. They were out of tobacco in that trench, it appeared,
and suffering acutely from the deprivation of what to a
Boer is more necessary than food.”

Near to the place where they were stricken the Irish heroes
were buried. Their last bed was made in a picturesque spot
within the whisper of the spray of the river, and sheltered by the
low-spreading thorn-bushes. The rest of the day was unusually
peaceful, but in the evening the crackle of musketry from left to
right of the position taken up by the Durhams again showed that
the enemy was on the alert, and it was believed he was preparing
for offensive operations during the night. It was discovered, however,
that a gallant deed had put any effort to rush the British lines
out of his power. Captain Phillips with eight Bluejackets had effectually
rendered their searchlight useless, and had, moreover, got
safely away after the venturesome act had been perpetrated and
discovered.

The new passage was found by Colonel Sandbach (Royal Engineers)
at a point below the waterfall on the east, and again guns,
baggage, &c., were ordered to be removed to the south side of the
Tugela. It may be advisable to note that the armistice mentioned
was an informal one, which did not interfere with military movements.
Owing to the desperate straits of the wounded on Inniskilling Hill
(as the position, baptized in the blood of our heroes, had now been
christened), the General had sent in a flag asking for an armistice.
The Boers had refused. On condition that we should not fire on
their positions during the day, they only consented to allow the
bearer companies to remove the wounded and bury the dead. The
Boers meanwhile improved their entrenchments, and the British
troops, as stated, prepared for the operation of removal across the
river. This they at first did with some misgivings, for they had
tacked about so many times, but, on the whole, they bore the strain
admirably. What with the hammering of Maxims, Nordenfeldts,
and the fluting of Mausers, the men had for twelve days past run
through the gamut of discomfort. They had been fed up with war.
They were in the daytime fried, grilled, and toasted. At night the
cold with its contrast had bitten and numbed them. They had
bivouacked now in keen chilly blasts, now in intermittent downpours
of rain, which had drenched them and made existence a prolonged[Pg 145]
wretchedness. And nothing had been achieved. Lives only had
been lost. But they still munched their bully beef and biscuit with
an heroic cheerfulness and resignation that served to astonish and
inspirit all who beheld it. There was no doubt about it that the
pluck and perseverance of the British Tommy had become subjects
for wonder and veneration!

MAJOR-GENERAL H. J. T. HILDYARD, C.B.

Photo by C. Knight, Aldershot.

During the night the pontoon bridge was removed from its
original position and relaid at the point indicated by Colonel Sandbach.
The Boers, watching the commencement of the move, were
under the impression that a repetition of the retirements from Spion
Kop and Vaal Krantz was to be enacted. They therefore deemed that
the movement might be carried out with more expedition did they
start a magazine fire at long range at such troops as happened to be
between Colenso and the angle of the river. When they discovered,
however, that only a portion of the troops had departed, they subsided
and reserved their ammunition till morning, when a brisk
artillery duel commenced operations—a duel in which the British
in quantity and the Dutch in quality of practice distinguished themselves.

General Buller’s revised plan was now to avoid the enemy’s front,
and work back again to the Hlangwane plateau, whence he would
start again, having, as it were, made a redistribution of his troops,
so that Hart’s brigade in its expensively acquired position would
now, instead of being his extreme right, become his extreme left.
To this end guns and cavalry were removed, Naval batteries being
posted on the Hlangwane and Monte Cristo positions, while Hart’s
brigade was left holding to the skirts, so to speak, of the enemy at
Inniskilling Hill, and preventing him from congratulating himself
on freedom.

The anniversary of Majuba began in clouds. Guns very early
broke into an aubade, but awakened few. For there had been little
sleep that night. All had dozed in their boots, ready for the worst.
The cavalry proceeded to range itself at the northern point of the
Hlangwane position, in order that by their guns and long-range rifle
fire they might assist the advance of Barton’s Brigade. This brigade
was the first to start in the attack on the three hills on which
the Boer left still rested. The disposition of the forces was as
follows:—General Barton’s Fusilier Brigade on the extreme right,
with Colonel Kitchener’s Lancashire Brigade—Colonel Kitchener
having taken over General Wynne’s Brigade while that officer
was wounded—on his left, this latter being on the right of
Colonel Northcott’s Brigade. Colonel Stuart, working with a
composite regiment on the south bank of the Tugela, protected the
crossing.

General Barton, with two battalions of the 6th Brigade and the[Pg 146]
Royal Dublin Fusiliers, crept one and a half miles down the banks
of the river, the Scots Fusiliers leading. Here the Tugela flowed
between high shelving banks, while above them frowned the
three spurs of the great Pieters position. As usual, these
eminences were well ribbed with shelter trenches, and embedded
everywhere were Boer sharpshooters, ready to pit cunning
against courage, and sniggle at the victory of one over the other.
A hot fire commenced on the river-banks while Barton’s Brigade
advanced gallantly towards its destination. The top of the hill was
being raked noisily by the gunners. “Hell was dancing hornpipes
aloft,” some one said. However, in the afternoon British bayonets
glittered against the skyline, and the thing was done. This, the
most wonderful infantry in the world, had ascended precipitous cliffs
500 feet high, assaulted Pieter’s Hill, gained the crest, and turned
the enemy’s left.

Signal Apparatus of H.M.S. Forte, Mounted on Truck and used Nightly
to communicate with Ladysmith.

This storming of the main position, which was accomplished by
the Royal Scots Fusiliers and the Royal Irish Fusiliers, was a
remarkable achievement, though the enemy, conscious of their
weakness at this point, and knowing how completely they were[Pg 147]
dominated by the Monte Cristo ridge, made no very prolonged
opposition. No sooner had the brigade occupied the hill than
the disheartened Boers removed in considerable strength to some
dongas on the east, whence they continued to be aggressive, and
poured a heavy rifle fire on the Fusiliers, whose losses were considerable.
They failed, however, to dislodge them. At this time
a simultaneous attack was taking place in the region of the two
other hills which composed the Pieter’s position. These the 4th
Brigade under Colonel Northcott and the 11th Brigade under
Colonel Kitchener were now assailing with magnificent courage.
For two hours every spot on the kopjes had been searched, painted
with the noxious hues of lyddite, and seamed with shrapnel, and few
Dutchmen there were who cared to remain to welcome the bayonets
of Kitchener’s braves. Their preliminary advance was scarcely
recognisable, kharki and kopje so smoothly blending themselves
in one. Then on a sudden, as in the transformation scene when
jars become forty thieves or shell-fish become fairies, the boulders
took to themselves human shape and human tongue, and up flew a
surging, yelling mass of fierce warriors, rushing the hill in the red
light of the setting sun. The crest was carried magnificently by
the Royal Lancasters, men who had been in the thick of everything
for a month past, and who yet maintained their unconquerable
British qualities without a flaw; and the Boers, recognising that
the game was up, were seen skimming the distance like swallows in
flight. Some magnificent service was done by the gunners of the
Royal Navy and the Natal Naval Volunteers, service that was
especially eulogised by the General, who declared that the losses
consequent on the taking of the position might have been far greater
but for the efficient manner in which the artillery was served. Be
this as it may, an officer said what many echoed, namely, that however
deadly our shell fire was, and however instrumental in winning
the battle, “No infantry in the world but ours would have crowned
such a victory with so much glory.” For the Boers at first fought
doggedly, relinquishing their hold of trench after trench only when
artillery followed by the bayonets of the infantry made their positions
untenable. In turn three hills were stormed; in turn cheer on cheer
rent the air and travelled along the funnel-like banks of the river,
and floated up to the rejoiced ears of those on Hlangwane and Monte
Cristo, who had assisted to bring about the devoutly wished for
consummation. The song of victory seemed to be taken up by the
elements, earth and air and water, and the last flare of the guns of
the enemy repeated it. All now knew that the way to Ladysmith
was won; that the toil and tribulation, the perplexity and suspense,
that had harassed them since the fatal day of Colenso had come to
an end! There, right and left, were little black figures scudding[Pg 148]
away like ants disturbed; here streams of prisoners who had thrown
up hands at glint of bayonet; on all sides kopjes, kopjes, kopjes—ours,
unchallengeably ours!

Some idea of the situation may be gathered from the description
of a sergeant in the 2nd Royal Irish Fusiliers:—

“On the 27th we put the damper on them…. You have read,
no doubt, of Barton’s Brigade deploying to the right early in the
day. That deployment was made by crossing the pontoon bridge
put up during the night by the Engineers. Instead of climbing up
the banks on the opposite side, we crept down the water’s edge over
huge rocks for about a couple of miles. In the meantime our Naval
guns, artillery, Maxims, were all blazing away overhead, and a
terrible rifle fire was raging on the left. As we struggled up the
steep banks the beggars spotted us, and things began to get lively.
We got under a little cover, and blazed away for all we were
worth.

“The whole brigade gradually pushed forward from one bit of
cover to another, but still the Boers held their ground. About five
o’clock in the afternoon the staff passed the word round to charge
them out of it. We left our cover, and advanced by half-companies
at the double. The company officers were given a point to make
for, and as soon as we got in the open it was a case of every man
for himself. It was a good 800 yards of open ground where my
company had to cross, and, of course, they fired at us for all they
were worth. A good many dropped, including A—— and the two
subalterns. What with shells bursting and a front and cross fire, it
was like a full-dress rehearsal for the lower regions. We got on the
hill, and made short work of our Brothers. Needless to say, they
didn’t all stand for the steel. They kept up a heavy fire on us until
long after dark. Orders were passed to hold our own until daylight.
As many of the wounded were without water, a terrible night was
put in. The shouts for water, mingled with the groans of the
dying, the sparks from the Mauser bullets as they struck the
rocks, the blackness of the night, &c., fairly made me say my
prayers…. The stretcher-bearers searching for the wounded
carry lamps, and these lamps made a nice target for Brother
Boer to snipe at. Daylight came at last, the night mist began
to clear away, dead Tommies grinning at dead Boers, wounded
men of all sorts, everybody stiff, sore, dirty, and tired. The Boers
scooted.”

And the next day came the serene happiness of viewing the
Boers in full retreat behind Bulwana and in the direction of Acton
Homes, the winding string of waggons trekking away from the
scene of past triumphs. The misery, the lives, the pains, the
doubts, the disappointments were well repaid by that vision of the[Pg 149]
departing foe, the foe moving off for ever from the strongholds of
Natal. All had been accomplished by a blend of pluck, obduracy,
and perseverance that can scarcely find its match in the records of
British prowess. They had suffered at Colenso, they had tested the
deadly summit of Spion Kop. They had backed out from that cruel
region with their lives in their hands, and repeated the same process
in the equally terrific area of Vaal Krantz. They had come forth
smiling, stalwart, staunch as ever, believing and trusting and determining
to hew their way through the rocky wilderness sown with
destruction and save the 8000 odd of their fellows whose lives verily
hung by a thread. And now for fourteen days, each hour fraught
with blood and broiling, they had moved on from one dangerous
position to a second more dangerous position, till at last, after protracted
torment and suspense, they had driven before them the
whole horde of adventurous Dutchmen—foes allowed to be the
bravest of the brave, if the shiftiest of the shifty. Now they had
their reward. The Boers were scrambling to be off—that much
they could see of them. It was only in those fleeing moments they
saw them at all. At other times, when battle raged warmest, all
that was known of the Brother Boer was the shape and number of
his bullet!

The following officers were killed and wounded on the 22nd,
23rd, and 24th of February:—

Staff—Wounded, Major-General A. S. Wynne, C.B. 3rd King’s Royal
Rifle Corps—Killed, Lieutenant Hon. R. Cathcart; wounded, Lieutenant D.
H. Blundell-Hollinshead-Blundell and Lieutenant A. F. MacLachlan. 2nd
Royal Lancaster Regiment—Killed, Lieutenant R. H. Coë and Second Lieutenant
N. J. Parker; wounded, Major E. W. Yeatherd, Lieutenant A. R. S.
Martin, Lieutenant F. C. Davidson (since dead), and Lieutenant R. G. D.
Parker. 2nd East Surrey Regiment—Wounded, Lieutenant-Colonel R. H. W.
H. Harris, Major H. L. Smith, Major H. P. Treeby, Captain F. L. A. Packman,
Lieutenant C. H. Hinton, Second Lieutenant J. P. Benson. 1st South Lancashire
Regiment—Wounded, Captain B. R. Goren, Lieutenant H. R. Kane,
Captain S. Upperton, Second Lieutenant C. H. Marsh. 2nd Devonshire Regiment—Wounded,
Lieutenant E. J. F. Vaughan. 2nd Royal West Surrey
Regiment—Wounded, Lieutenants B. H. Hastie, H. C. Winfield, and A. E.
M’Namara. 1st Rifle Brigade—Wounded, Captain and Quarter-Master F.
Stone and Second Lieutenant C. D’A. Baker-Carr. 2nd King’s Royal Rifle
Corps—Wounded, Lieutenant W. Wyndham and Second Lieutenant G. C.
Kelly. 2nd Rifle Brigade—Wounded, Second Lieutenant H. C. Dumaresq.
1st Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers—Killed, Lieutenant-Colonel T. M. G. Thackeray,[5]
Major F. A. Sanders, Lieutenant W. O. Stuart; wounded, Major C. J. L.[Pg 150]
Davidson, Captain R. M. Foot, Lieutenant J. Evans, Lieutenant J. N. Crawford,
Second Lieutenant C. Ridings, Second Lieutenant H. P. Pott, Second
Lieutenant J. G. Devenish; missing, Second Lieutenant T. A. D. Best. 2nd
Royal Dublin Fusiliers—Killed, Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel C. G. H. Sitwell,
D.S.O.; wounded, Lieutenant A. V. Hill, Second Lieutenant A. Broadhurst-Hill,
Second Lieutenant F. B. Lane, Second Lieutenant J. T. Dennis. 2nd
Gordon Highlanders—Killed, Captain S. C. Maitland. Imperial Light Infantry—Wounded,
Major Hay. 1st Connaught Rangers—Wounded, Lieutenant J.
L. T. Conroy, Lieutenant R. W. Harling, Lieutenant H. Moore Hutchinson,
Lieutenant A. Wise, Second Lieutenant A. T. Lambert, Second Lieutenant J.
M. B. Wratislaw, Captain E. M. Woulfe Flanagan (5th Battalion, attached).
Royal Welsh Fusiliers—Killed, Lieutenant-Colonel C. C. H. Thorold,[6] Lieutenant
F. A. Stebbing; wounded, Second Lieutenant C. C. Norman and Second
Lieutenant H. V. V. Kyrke. 2nd Royal Fusiliers—Wounded, Lieutenant R. H.
Torkington.

The following casualties occurred on the 27th of February:—

Killed.—1st South Lancashire Regiment—Lieutenant-Colonel W. M’Carthy
O’Leary.[7] 2nd Royal Scots Fusiliers—Brevet-Major V. Lewis, Captain H. S.
Sykes, Second Lieutenant F. J. T. U. Simpson. 1st Royal Warwickshire
Regiment—Lieutenant H. L. Mourilyan. Second Royal Irish Fusiliers—Second
Lieutenant C. J. Daly.

Wounded.—Major-General Barton. 2nd Scots Fusiliers—Lieutenant-Colonel
E. E. Carr, Captain C. P. A. Hull, Captain E. E. Blaine, Lieutenant C. H. I.
Jackson, Second Lieutenant H. C. Fraser. 2nd Royal Irish Fusiliers—Major
F. F. Hill, Lieutenant A. G. Knocker, Second Lieutenant A. Hamilton, Second
Lieutenant V. H. Kavanagh. 1st South Lancashire Regiment—Major T. Lamb.
2nd West Yorkshire Regiment—Captain C. Mansel Jones, Captain C. C. B.
Tew, Lieutenant L. H. Spry, Lieutenant A. M. Boyall. 2nd Derbyshire Regiment—Lieutenant
H. S. Pennell, V.C. 2nd Royal Lancaster Regiment—Captain
G. L. Palmes, Second Lieutenant C. W. Grover, Lieutenant E. A. P.
Vaughan. 1st Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers—Second Lieutenant G. R. V.
Steward. 1st Rifle Brigade—Captain and Adjutant S. C. Long, Second Lieutenant
J. L. Buxton. 2nd Royal Fusiliers—Lieutenant H. B. G. Macartney.
2nd Royal Dublin Fusiliers—Lieutenant J. M’D. Hastard, Second Lieutenant
De B. Bradford.

[Pg 151]

EXPECTATION

King’s Post, the Entrenched Position of 2nd Batt. Rifle Brigade at Ladysmith.

(Reduced facsimile of sketch by Melton Prior.)

“Gloom, gloom, gloom, unending gloom!” So said one on
the 26th of February, one who was fast sinking in the slough of
despondency into which so many had slipped lower and lower, till
they were sucked down and ended their troubles with fever and the
grave. Some few days before all hearts had leapt with joy at reading
of hopeful signals, listening to booming guns, which all thought
to be bursting the gates of their imprisonment. So certain were
they that the joyful hour of freedom was at hand that the force was
placed on full rations. “We can afford to have a blow-out now,”
some one had said, and began to arrange what menu he should chose
when he at last came face to face with civilisation. Then had come
gloom—gloom blacker than Erebus—for it was gloom without and
within. The guns—the welcome guns—not the obstreperous ones
of Bulwana and the companion hills—had ceased their clamour.
Hope was gone, and even the “helio” refused its communications.
The sky was overcast, and rumours, that had always been prolific as
flies, now began to breed apace. The air of Ladysmith was thick
with them. No word from Buller’s column. Kaffirs hinted that
for the fourth time the relief column had retired at the back of the[Pg 152]
Tugela. Doubt, anxiety, suspense set in with renewed terrors.
Quarter rations—the more trying because temporarily dropped—again
became the order of the course. This in spite of the fact that
Buller had now signalled “Everything progressing favourably.” It
seemed that they had heard that message before, those poor, half-hopeful,
half-sceptical sufferers.

Some said that on Tuesday, Majuba Day, the spirits of the community
arrived at their nadir. When the barometer of fate registers
its lowest, it is bound to rise. It rose in skips and jumps. There
came the grand news that Cronje had surrendered to Lord Roberts.
It was evident that the Boers too had heard, understood, and decided
that they must scuttle the next morning. Signs of disturbance were
evident. Long serpentine lines of trekking waggons were throwing
up dust columns in the roads leading to Modder Spruit and Pepworth;
droves of oxen were hurried along as fast as hoofs would
carry them. Guns—the terrible guns which for 118 days had bayed
and barked and rumbled and thundered—were in course of being
dismantled. What did it all mean? Time was when the “braves”
in Ladysmith would have sallied forth with their inherent dash and
turned the retreat into a rout. But things were changed. Men
and horses were now almost too weak to enter into sustained conflict
with a mosquito, had a mosquito deigned to look at them. But
most of them were past even the attentions of mosquitos. All they
could do was to send a salvo at the heels of their tormentors, and
hope that one or two shells at least might serve to “speed the
parting guest.” This was all they could attempt. They also flashed
to Monte Cristo a message—a deplorable message—full of their despair
and despondency. It said, “Garrison bitterly disappointed at
delay of relieving force.” This was at twelve o’clock. Then, as
though Fate, with a full appreciation of the picturesque, had placed
her highest light against her deepest dark—then, within the hour,
came back glorious news!