SOUTH AFRICA AND THE
TRANSVAAL WAR

GENERAL AND STAFF
Photo by Gregory & Co., London

South Africa
and the
Transvaal War

BY

LOUIS CRESWICKE

AUTHOR OF “ROXANE,” ETC.

WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS

IN SIX VOLUMES

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

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

MANCHESTER: KENNETH MACLENNAN, 75 PICCADILLY

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

CONTENTS—Vol. V.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS—Vol. V.

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE—Vol. V.

MARCH 1900.

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

APRIL 1900.

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

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

General Clements received the submission of 4000 rebels.

British occupation of Reddersburg.

7.—Skirmish near Warrenton.

9.—Colonial Division attacked at Wepener.

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

20.—Boer positions attacked at Dewetsdorp.

23.—General Carrington arrived at Beira.

25.—Wepener siege raised.

General Chermside occupied Dewetsdorp.

Bloemfontein Waterworks recaptured.

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

27.—Thabanchu occupied.

28.—Fighting near Thabanchu Mountain.

MAY 1900.

1.—General Hamilton captured Houtnek.

5.—British occupation of Brandfort.

Lord Roberts’s further advance to the Vet River.

6.—The Vet River passed and Smaldeel occupied.

7.—General Hunter occupied Fourteen Streams.

8.—Ladybrand deserted by the Boers.

9.—Capture of Welgelegen.

Mafeking Relief Force reached Vryburg.

10.—Battle of Zand River.

Occupation of Ventersburg.

12.—Lord Roberts occupied Kroonstad without resistance.

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

13.—General Buller advanced towards the Biggarsberg.

14.—Occupation of Dundee.

15.—Occupation of Glencoe.

Mafeking Relief Force defeated the Boers at Kraaipan.

16.—Christiana occupied.

17.—General Ian Hamilton occupied Lindley.

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

Lord Methuen entered Hoopstad.

18.—Occupation of Newcastle.

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

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

23.—Rhenoster position turned.

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

27.—The passage of the Vaal was completed by the British Army.

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

The Battle of Biddulph’s Berg.

29.—Battle of Doornkop: Boers defeated.

Lord Roberts arrived at Germiston.

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

30.—Occupation of Utrecht by General Hildyard.

Sir Charles Warren defeated the enemy near Douglas.

31.—Battalion of Irish Yeomanry captured at Lindley.

The British flag hoisted at Johannesburg.

JUNE 1900.

5.—The British flag hoisted in Pretoria.

MAP SHOWING THE LINES OF ADVANCE FROM BLOEMFONTEIN TO PRETORIA.
(The Rand District and the Movements around Pretoria are shown on Map at p. [186].)
EDINBURGH AND LONDON: T. C. AND E. C. JACK.

SOUTH AFRICA AND THE TRANSVAAL WAR

CHAPTER I
THE IMMORTAL HANDFUL[1]

MAFEKING, 18TH MAY 1900

Shout for the desperate host,
Handful of Britain’s race,
Holding the lonely post
Under God’s grace;
Guarding our England’s fame
Over the open grave,
Shielding the Flag from shame—
Shout for the brave!

Ringed by a ruthless foe
Dared they the night attack,
Answered him blow for blow,
Hurling him back;
Cheering, the charge was pressed,
More than they held they hold,
Won bayonet at the breast—
Shout for the bold!

Long, long the days and nights;
Bitter the tales that came,
What of the distant fights?
Rumours of shame?
Scorning the doubts that swell,
Nursing the hope anew,
They did their duty well—
Shout for the true!

Shout for the glory won,
Empire of East and West!
Shout for each valiant son
Nursed at thy breast!
Fear could not find them out,
Death stalked there iron-shod,
Help found them Victors—shout
Praises to God!

DISASTER AT KOORN SPRUIT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Plan—Disaster at Koorn Spruit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE DISASTER AT KOORNSPRUIT: DRIVERLESS TEAMS STAMPEDING
Drawing by John Charlton

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The list of loss was terrible:—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE REDDERSBURG MISHAP

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

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

THE REDDERSBURG MISHAP: MEN OF THE IRISH RIFLES AND MOUNTED INFANTRY DELIVERING UP THEIR ARMS
Facsimile of a Sketch by Melton Prior, War Artist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The casualties were as follows:—

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

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

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

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

THE ESCAPE OF PRISONERS FROM PRETORIA

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

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

The Model School, Pretoria.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BRITISH PRISONERS ON THEIR WAY TO PRETORIA: THE FIRST HALT
Drawing by S. Begg

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

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

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

“Model School, Pretoria.

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

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

“Floreat Etona.

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

“Feb. 14, 1900.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

New Camp for British Prisoners at Pretoria.
(Drawing by J. Schönberg.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

PREPARATIONS FOR ACTION

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

LIEUT.-GENERAL SIR ARCHIBALD HUNTER, K.C.B.
Photo by Bassano, London

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WITH LORD METHUEN—THE BATTLE OF BOSHOF

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

COLONEL LORD CHESHAM, Imperial Yeomanry
Photo by Russell & Sons, London

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

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

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

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

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

He also wrote to the Parisians:—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FOOTNOTES:

[1] From “The Handy Man, and other Verses” (Grant Richards).

[2] The Rev. J. Godfrey.

[3] Colonel the Hon. George Hugh Gough commenced his military career in 1871, when he took a commission as cornet in the 14th Hussars, of which he held the adjutancy for nearly four years until 1879, when he was promoted captain. In 1882 he obtained the brevet rank of major, and in 1885 he was promoted major and brevet lieutenant-colonel, and four years later he obtained his colonelcy. Colonel Gough passed through the Staff College in 1883, after serving as A.D.C. to the Lieutenant-General commanding the expeditionary force in Egypt in 1882. Among his staff appointments was that of private secretary to the Commander-in-chief (Lord Wolseley), which he attained in 1897, and again in 1898, after holding the post of assistant military secretary at the head-quarters of the army. Colonel Gough’s war services included the Boer War of 1881, when he was aide-de-camp to the officer commanding the base and the lines of communication; the Egyptian campaign of 1882; and the Soudan Expedition of 1884-85. In the former his horse was killed under him at Tel-el-Kebir, and he was mentioned in despatches. He received the order of the Mejidieh (4th class), the bronze star, and the medal with clasp. In the Soudan Expedition, where he was in command of the Mounted Infantry, Colonel Gough was again mentioned in despatches, greatly distinguishing himself at the battle of Abu Klea, where he was wounded.

CHAPTER II
MAFEKING, APRIL

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

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

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

The Native Village of Mafeking.

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

“Marico Laager, Molopo, April 7.

“To his Honour Colonel Baden-Powell, Mafeking.

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

“J. P. Snyman.”

“Mafeking, April 7.

“To his Honour General Snyman.

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

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

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

SERGEANT—18th HUSSARS
Photo by Gregory & Co., London

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Postage Stamps issued at Mafeking during the Siege.

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