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.. meta::
   :PG.Id: 41487
   :PG.Title: Ian Hamilton's March
   :PG.Released: 2012-11-17
   :PG.Rights: Public Domain
   :PG.Producer: Al Haines
   :DC.Creator: Winston Spencer Churchill
   :DC.Title: Ian Hamilton's March
   :DC.Language: en
   :DC.Created: 1900
   :coverpage: images/img-cover.jpg

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IAN HAMILTON'S MARCH
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      Cover

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   .. _`IAN HAMILTON. *From the Picture by* John \S. Sargent, \R.\A.`:

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      :alt: IAN HAMILTON. *From the Picture by* John \S. Sargent, \R.\A.

      IAN HAMILTON. *From the Picture by* John \S. Sargent, \R.\A.

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      IAN HAMILTON'S MARCH

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      BY
      WINSTON SPENCER CHURCHILL

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      AUTHOR OF "LONDON TO LADYSMITH VIA PRETORIA,"
      "THE RIVER WAR," ETC.

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      TOGETHER WITH EXTRACTS FROM
      THE DIARY OF LIEUTENANT \H. FRANKLAND
      A PRISONER OF WAR AT PRETORIA

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      *WITH PORTRAIT, MAPS AND PLANS*

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      TORONTO
      THE COPP, CLARK COMPANY, LIMITED

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      COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY
      WINSTON SPENCER CHURCHILL

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      *All rights reserved*

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      THIS COLLECTION OF LETTERS
      IS INSCRIBED TO
      LIEUT-GENERAL IAN HAMILTON, \C.\B., \D.\S.\O.
      WITH WHOSE MILITARY ACHIEVEMENTS
      IT IS LARGELY CONCERNED

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   PREFACE.

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This book is a continuation of those
letters to the *Morning Post* newspaper on the
South African war, which have been lately
published under the title 'London to
Ladysmith *via* Pretoria.'  Although the letters
had been read to some extent in their serial
form, their reproduction in a book has been
indulgently regarded by the public; and I
am encouraged to repeat the experiment.

The principal event with which the
second series deals is the march of
Lieutenant-General Ian Hamilton's column on
the flank of Lord Roberts's main army
from Bloemfontein to Pretoria.  This force,
which encountered and overcame the brunt
of the Boer resistance, which, far from the
railway, marched more than 400 miles
through the most fertile parts of the
enemy's country, which fought ten general
actions and fourteen smaller affairs, and
captured five towns, was, owing to the
difficulties of telegraphing, scarcely attended
by a single newspaper correspondent, and
accompanied continuously by none.  Little
has therefore been heard of its fortunes, nor
do I know of anyone who is likely to write
an account.

The letters now submitted to the public
find in these facts their chief claim to be
reprinted.  While written in the style of
personal narrative I have hitherto found
it convenient to follow, they form a
complete record of the operations of the flank
column from the day when Ian Hamilton
left Bloemfontein to attack the Waterworks
position, until he returned to Pretoria after
the successful engagement of Diamond Hill.

Although in an account written mainly
in the field, and immediately after the actual
events, there must be mistakes, no care has
been spared in the work.  The whole book
has been diligently revised.  Four letters,
which our long marches did not allow me to
finish while with the troops, have been added
and are now published for the first time.
The rest have been lengthened or corrected
by the light of after-knowledge and
reflection, and although the epistolary form
remains, I hope the narrative will be found
to be fairly consecutive.

I do not want the reader to think that
the personal incidents and adventures
described in this book are extraordinary, and
beyond the common lot of those who move
unrestricted about the field of war.  They
are included in the narrative, not on account
of any peculiar or historic interest, but
because this method is the easiest, and, so far
as my wit serves me, the best way of telling
the story with due regard at once to detail
and proportion.

In conclusion I must express my
obligations to the proprietors of the *Morning Post*
newspaper for the assistance they have given
my publishers in allowing them to set up
the copy as each letter arrived from the war;
to the DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH, to whom I
am indebted for the details of the strength
and composition of the force which will be
found in the Appendix, and for much
assistance in the attempt to attain accuracy;
and thirdly, to MR. FRANKLAND, whose
manly record of the heavy days he passed as
a prisoner in Pretoria may help to make this
book acceptable to the public.

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WINSTON SPENCER CHURCHILL.

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   LONDON:
   *September* 10, 1900.

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   CONTENTS.

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   CHAPTER

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   I.  `A Roving Commission`_
   II.  `Exit General Gatacre`_
   III.  `At Half-Way House`_
   IV.  `Two Days with Brabazon`_
   V.  `Two Days with Brabazon--*Continued*`_
   VI.  `The Dewetsdorp Episode`_
   VII.  `Ian Hamilton's March`_
   VIII.  `Ian Hamilton`_
   IX.  `The Action of Houtnek`_
   X.  `The Army of the Right Flank`_
   XI.  `Lindley`_
   XII.  `Concerning a Boer Convoy`_
   XIII.  `Action of Johannesburg`_
   XIV.  `The Fall of Johannesburg`_
   XV.  `The Capture Of Pretoria`_
   XVI.  `"Held By The Enemy"`_
   XVII.  `Action Of Diamond Hill`_

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   `APPENDIX`_

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   Composition of Lieut.-General Ian Hamilton's Force

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   PORTRAIT.

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   `IAN HAMILTON`_ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . *Frontispiece*

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   *From the Picture by* JOHN \S. SARGENT, \R.\A.

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   MAPS AND PLANS.

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   `Operations in the Orange Free State, April, 1900`_

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   `Diagram Explaining Hamilton's Action at Israel's Poorte, the 25th of April`_

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   `Diagram Explaining French's Operations Round Thabanchu, the 25th and 27th of April`_

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   `Diagram Explaining the Action of Houtnek`_

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   `Diagram to Explain the Passage of the Sand River, 10th of May, 1900`_

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   `Ian Hamilton's Action at the Sand River, 10th of May, 1900`_

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   `Ian Hamilton's Action before Johannesburg`_

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   `Plan of the Operations of 11th and 12th of June, 1900`_

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   `Diagram Explaining the Action of Diamond Hill`_

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   `Map of March from Bloemfontein to Pretoria`_    *At end of book*

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.. _`A ROVING COMMISSION`:

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   IAN HAMILTON'S MARCH

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   CHAPTER I

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   A ROVING COMMISSION

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   In the train near Pieters, Natal: March 31.

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Ladysmith, her garrison and her rescuers,
were still recovering, the one from the effects
of long confinement, the other from
over-exertion.  All was quiet along the Tugela
except for the plashing of the waters, and
from Hunger's Poorte to Weenen no sound
of rifle or cannon shot disturbed the echoes.

The war had rolled northward: the floods
of invasion that had isolated--almost
overwhelmed--Ladysmith and threatened to
submerge the whole country had abated and
receded, so that the Army of Natal might
spread itself out to feed and strengthen at its
leisure and convenience on the reconquered
territory.

Knox's (Ladysmith) Brigade went into
camp at Arcadia, five miles west of the town.
Howard's (Ladysmith) Brigade retired to
the breezy plains south of Colenso.  Clery's
Division--for the gallant Clery, recovered
from his sickness, had displaced the gallant
and successful Lyttelton--moved north and
encamped beyond Elandslaagte along the
banks of Sunday's River.  Hunter's Division
was disposed with one brigade at
Elandslaagte and one at Tinta Inyoni.  Warren,
whom it was no longer necessary to send to
the Cape Colony, established himself and
his two brigades north of Ladysmith, along
the railway line to the Orange Free State.
Brocklehurst, with the remnants of what had
once been almost a Cavalry Division, and
now could scarcely mount three squadrons,
occupied a neighbouring plain, sending his
regiments one by one to Colenso, or even
Mooi River, to be re-horsed; and around all
this great Army, resting after its labours and
preparing for fresh efforts, the Cavalry
brigades of Dundonald and Burn-Murdoch
drew an immense curtain of pickets and
patrols which extended from Acton Homes
in the east, through Bester's Station right
round to Wessels Nek and further still, and
which enabled the protected soldiers within
to close their eyes by night and stretch their
legs by day.

Meanwhile, the burghers had all retreated
to the Drakensburg and the Biggarsburg
and other refuges, from which elevated
positions they defied intrusion or attack, and
their scattered line stretched in a vast
crescent even around our widely extended front
from the Tintwa Pass, through Waschbank
to Pomeroy.

But with the exception of outpost
skirmishes, wholly unimportant to those not
engaged in them, a strange peace brooded over
Natal, and tranquillity was intensified by the
recollection of the struggle that was over
and the anticipation of the struggle that
impended.  It was a lull in the storm.

All this might be war, but it was not
journalism.  The tempest for the moment had
passed, and above the army in Natal the sky
was monotonously blue.  It was true that
dark clouds hung near the northern horizon,
but who should say when they would break?
Not, at any rate, for three weeks, I thought,
and so resolved to fill the interval by
trying to catch a little of the tempest elsewhere.

After the relief of Ladysmith four courses
offered themselves to Sir Redvers Buller.
To stand strictly on the defensive in Natal
and to send Lord Roberts every gun and man
who could be spared; to break into the Free
State by forcing Van Reenen's Pass or the
Tintwa; to attack the twelve thousand Boers
in the Biggarsburg, clear Natal, and invade
the Transvaal through the Vryheid district;
and, lastly, to unite and reorganise and
co-operate with Lord Roberts's main advance
either by striking west or north.

Which course would be adopted?  I made
inquiries.  Staff officers, bland and
inscrutable--it is wonderful how well men can keep
secrets they have not been told--continued
to smile and smile.  Brigadiers frankly
confessed their ignorance.  The general-in-chief
observed pleasantly that he would 'go for'
the enemy as soon as he was ready, but was
scarcely precise about when and where.

It was necessary to go to more humble
sources for truth, and after diligent search I
learned from a railway porter, or somebody
like that, that all attempts to repair the
bridge across the Sunday's River had been
postponed indefinitely.  This, on further
inquiry, proved to be true.

Now, what does this mean?  It means,
I take it, that no direct advance against the
Biggarsburg is intended for some time; and
as the idea of reducing the Natal Army to
reinforce the Cape Colony forces has been
definitely abandoned the western line of
advance suggests itself.

It would be absurd to force Van Reenen's
Pass with heavy loss of life, when by waiting
until the main Army has reached, let us say,
Kroonstad, we could walk through without
opposition; so that it looks very likely that
the Natal troops will do nothing until Lord
Roberts's advance is more developed, and
that then they will enter the Free State
and operate in conjunction with him, all
of which is strategy and common-sense
besides.  At any rate there will be a long
delay.

Therefore, I said to myself, I will go to
Bloemfontein, see all that may be seen there
and on the way, and rejoin the Natal Army
when it comes through the passes.  Such
was the plan, and the reader shall be a
witness of its abandonment.

I left the camp of Dundonald's Brigade
early in the morning of the 29th of March,
and riding through Ladysmith, round the
hill on which stands the battered convent,
now serving as headquarters, and down
the main street, along which the relieving
Army had entered the city, reached the
railway station and caught the 10 A.M. down
train.

We were delayed for a few minutes by the
departure for Elandslaagte of a train load of
Volunteers, the first to reach the Natal Army,
and the officers hastened to look at these
citizen soldiers.  There were five companies
in all, making nearly a thousand men, fine
looking fellows, with bright intelligent eyes,
which they turned inquiringly on every
object in turn, pointing and laughing at the
numerous shell holes in the corrugated iron
engine sheds and other buildings of the station.

A few regulars--sunburnt men, who had
fought their way in with Buller--sauntered
up to the trucks, and began a conversation
with the reinforcement.  I caught a
fragment: 'Cattle trucks, are they?  Well,
they didn't give us no blooming cattle
trucks.  No, no!  We came into Ladysmith
in a first-class doubly extry Pullman
car.  'Oo sent 'em?  Why, President ----
Kruger, of course,' whereat there was much
laughter.

I must explain that the epithet which the
average soldier uses so often as to make it
perfectly meaningless, and which we
conveniently express by a ----, is always placed
immediately before the noun it is intended to
qualify.  For instance, no soldier would under
any circumstances say '---- Mr. Kruger has
pursued a ---- reactionary policy,' but
'Mr. ---- Kruger has pursued a reactionary ----
policy.'  Having once voyaged for five days
down the Nile in a sailing boat with a
company of Grenadiers, I have had the best
opportunities for being acquainted with these
idiomatic constructions, and I insert this
little note in case it may be useful to some of
our national poets and minstrels.

The train started across the well-known
ground, and how fast and easily it ran.
Already we were bounding through the scrub
in which a month before Dundonald's leading
squadrons, galloping in with beating hearts,
had met the hungry picket line.

Intombi Spruit hospital camp was reached
in a quarter of an hour.  Hospital camp no
longer, thank goodness!  Since the bridge
had been repaired the trains had been busy,
and two days before I left the town the last
of the 2,500 sick had been moved down
to the great hospital and convalescent camps
at Mooi River and Highlands, or on to the
ships in the Durban Harbour.  Nothing
remained behind but 100 tents and
marquees, a stack of iron cots, the cook
houses, the drinking-water tanks, and 600
graves.  Ghastly Intombi had faded into
the past, as a nightmare flies at the dawn of day.

We sped swiftly across the plain of
Pieters, and I remembered how I had toiled
across it, some five months before, a
miserable captive, casting longing eyes at the
Ladysmith balloon, and vigilantly guarded
by the Boer mounted escort.  Then the
train ran into the deep ravine between
Barton's Hill and Railway Hill, the ravine the
Cavalry had 'fanned' on the day of the
battle, and, increasing its pace as we
descended towards the Tugela, carried us
along the whole front of the Boer position.
Signs of the fighting appeared on every
side.  Biscuit tins flashed brightly on the
hill-side like heliographs.  In places the
slopes were honey-combed with little stone
walls and traverses, masking the sheltering
refuges of the Infantry battalions during
the week they had lain in the sun-blaze
exposed to the cross-fire of gun and rifle.
White wooden crosses gleamed here and
there among the thorn bushes.  The dark
lines of the Boer trenches crowned the hills.
The train swept by--and that was all.

I knew every slope, every hillock and
accident of ground, as one knows men and
women in the world.  Here was good cover.
There was a dangerous space.  Here it was
wise to stoop, and there to run.  Behind
that steep kopje a man might scorn the
shrapnel.  Those rocks gave sure protection
from the flanking rifle fire.  Only a month
ago how much these things had meant.  If
we could carry that ridge it would command
those trenches, and that might mean the hill
itself, and perhaps the hill would lead to
Ladysmith.  Only a month ago these things
meant honour or shame, victory or defeat, life
or death.  An anxious Empire and a waiting
world wanted to know about every one of
them--and now they were precisely what I
have said, dark jumbled mounds of stone and
scrub, with a few holes and crevices scratched
in them, and a litter of tin-pots, paper, and
cartridge cases strewn about.

The train steamed cautiously over the
temporary wooden bridge at Colenso and
ran into the open country beyond.  On we
hurried past the green slope where poor
Long's artillery had been shot to bits, past
Gun Hill, whence the great naval guns had
fired so often, through Chieveley Camp, or
rather through the site of Chieveley Camp,
past the wreck of the armoured train--still
lying where we had dragged it with such
labour and peril, just clear of the
line--through Frere and Estcourt, and so, after
seven hours' journey, we came to Pietermaritzburg.

An officer who was travelling down with
me pointed out the trenches on the signal
hill above the town.

'Seems queer,' he said, 'to think that the
Boers might so easily have taken this town.
When we dug those trenches they were
expected every day, and the Governor, who
refused to leave the capital and was going to
stick it out with us, had his kit packed ready
to come up into the entrenchments at an
hour's notice.'

It was very pleasant to know that those
dark and critical days were gone, and that
the armies in the field were strong enough to
maintain the Queen's dominions against any
further invasion; yet one could not but
recall with annoyance that the northern part
of Natal was still in the hands of the
enemy.  Not for long, however, shall this endure.

After waiting in Pietermaritzburg long
enough only to dine, I proceeded by the
night train to Durban, and was here so
fortunate as to find a Union boat, the *Guelph*,
leaving almost immediately for East London.
The weather was fine, the sea comparatively
smooth, and the passengers few and
unobtrusive, so that the voyage, being short,
might almost be considered pleasant.

The captain took the greatest interest in
the war, which he had followed with
attention, and with the details and incidents of
which he was extraordinarily familiar.  He
had brought out a ship full of Volunteers,
new drafts, and had much to say concerning
the British soldier and his comrades in arms.

The good news which had delighted and
relieved everyone had reached him in the
most dramatic and striking manner.  When
they left England Roberts had just begun
his welcome advance, and the public anxiety
was at its height.  At Madeira there was an
English cable to say that he was engaging
Cronje, and that no news had arrived for
three days.  This was supplied, however, by
the Spanish wire, which asserted with
circumstantial details that the British had been
heavily defeated and had fled south beyond
the Orange River.  With this to reflect on
they had to sail.  Imagine the doubts and
fears that flourished in ten days of
ignorance, idleness, and speculation.  Imagine
with what feelings they approached
St. Helena.  He told me that when the
tug-boat came off no man dared hail them for
news.  Nor was it until the launch was
alongside that a soldier cried out nervously,
'The war, the war: what's happened there!'
and when they heard the answer, 'Cronje
surrendered; Ladysmith relieved,' he said
that such a shout went up as he had never
heard before, and I believed him.

After twenty-four hours of breeze and
tossing the good ship found herself in the
roads at East London, and having by this
time had quite enough of the sea I resolved
to disembark forthwith.





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   CHAPTER II

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   EXIT GENERAL GATACRE

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   Bethany: April 13.

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If you go to sleep when the train leaves
East London, you should wake, all being
well, to find yourself at Queenstown.

Queenstown lies just beyond the high
water-mark of war.  The tide had flowed
strong after Stormburg, and it looked as if
Queenstown would be engulfed, at any rate
for a time.  But Fortune and General
Gatacre protected it.  Sterkstroom entrenched
itself, and prepared for daily attacks.
Molteno was actually shelled.  Queenstown
suffered none of the horrors of war except
martial law, which it bore patiently rather
than cheerfully.

Nothing in the town impresses the
traveller, but at the dining-room of the railway
station there is a very little boy, about twelve
years old, who, unaided, manages to serve,
with extraordinary dispatch and a grand air,
a whole score of passengers during the brief
interval allowed for refreshments.

Five months earlier I had passed along
this line, hoping to get into Ladysmith
before the door was shut, and had been struck
by this busy child, who seemed a product of
America rather than of Africa.  Much had
happened in the meantime, not so far from
where he lived.  But here he was still--the
war had not interfered with him,
Queenstown was beyond the limit.

At Sterkstroom a line of empty trenches,
the Red Cross flag over a hospital, and an
extension to the cemetery enclosure filled
with brown mounds which the grass had
not yet had time to cover, showed that we
had crossed the line between peace and war.
Passing through Molteno, the last
resting-place of the heroic de Montmorency, the
train reached Stormburg.  Scarcely any
traces of the Boer occupation were to be
seen; the marks of their encampments
behind the ridge where they had laagered--a
litter of meat tins, straw, paper, and the like,
the grave of Commandant Swanepoole and
several nameless heaps, a large stone (in the
station-master's possession) with the words
engraved on it: 'In memory of the
Transvaal commando, Stormburg, December
1899,' and that was all.  The floods had
abated and receded.  This was the only
jetsam that remained.

At Stormburg I changed my mind, or,
rather--for it comes to the same thing and
sounds better--I made it up.

I heard that no immediate advance from
Bloemfontein was likely or even possible for
a fortnight.  Therefore, I said, I will go to
Capetown, and shelter for a week at 'The
Helot's Rest.'  After all, what is the use of
a roving commission if one cannot rove at
random or caprice?

So to Capetown I went accordingly--seven
hundred miles in forty-eight hours of
bad trains over sections of the line only
newly reopened.  But to Capetown I will
not take the reader.  Indeed, I strongly
recommend him to stick to the war and keep
his attention at the front, for Capetown at
this present time is not an edifying place.
Yet, since he may be curious to know some
reason for such advice, let me explain.

Capetown, which stands, as some writers
have observed, beneath the shadow of Table
Mountain, has been--and may be again in
times of peace--a pleasant place in which
to pursue business or health; but now it is
simply a centre of intrigue, scandal,
falsehood, and rumour.

The visitor stays at the Mount Nelson
Hotel, if he can be so fortunate as to secure
a room.  At this establishment he finds all
the luxuries of a first-class European hotel
without the resulting comfort.  There is a
good dinner, but it is cold before it reaches
him; there is a spacious dining-room, but it
is overcrowded; there are clean European
waiters, but they are few and far between.

At the hotel, in its garden, or elsewhere
in the town, all the world and his wife are
residing--particularly the wife.

We used to think, in the Army of Natal,
that Lord Roberts's operations in the Free
State had been a model of military skill
and knowledge, and, in a simple way, we
regarded French as one of the first cavalry
soldiers of the age.

All this was corrected at Capetown, and
I learned with painful disenchantment that
'it' (the said operations) had all been a
shameful muddle from beginning to end;
that the field-marshal had done this and that
and the other 'which no man in his senses,'
&c., that French was utterly ... and as
for Lord Kitchener, Capetown--let us be
just, imported social Capetown--was
particularly severe on Lord Kitchener.

It was very perplexing; and besides it
seemed that these people ought to know, for
they succeeded in making more news in the
twenty-four hours than all the correspondents
at the front put together.  The whole
town was overrun with amateur strategists
and gossiping women.  There were more
colonels to the acre than in any place
outside the United States, and if the social
aspect was unattractive, the political was
scarcely more pleasing.

Party feeling ran high.  Some of the
British section, those tremendous patriots who
demonstrate but do not fight--not to be on
any account compared with the noble
fellows who fill the Volunteer corps--pot-house
heroes, and others of that kidney, had just
distinguished themselves by mobbing
Mr. Schreiner in the streets.

The Dutch section, some of them the
men who, risking nothing themselves, had
urged the Republics to their ruin, all of whom
had smiled and rubbed their hands at the
British reverses, sat silent in public, but kept
a strict watch on incoming steamers for
members of Parliament and others of more
influence and guile, and whispered honeyed
assurances of their devotion to the Empire,
coupled with all sorts of suggestions about
the settlement--on the broad general
principle of 'Heads I win, tails you lose.'

British newspapers advocated short shrift
to rebels--'Hit 'em hard now they're down';
'Give them a lesson this time, the dirty
Dutchmen!'  Dutch papers recorded the
events of the war in the tone, 'At the end
of the battle the British, as usual, fled
precipitately, leaving 2,000 killed, *our*
loss'--no, not quite that, but very nearly;
everything, in fact, but the word 'our'--'one
killed, two slightly wounded.'

Let no one stay long in Capetown now
who would carry away a true impression of
the South Africans.  There is too much
shoddy worn there at present.

Only at Government House did I find
the Man of No Illusions, the anxious but
unwearied Proconsul, understanding the
faults and the virtues of both sides,
measuring the balance of rights and wrongs, and
determined--more determined than ever;
for is it not the only hope for the future
of South Africa?--to use his knowledge
and his power to strengthen the Imperial ties.

All this time the reader has been left on
a siding at Naauwpoort; but does he
complain of not being taken to Capetown?  We
will hasten back together to the healthier
atmosphere of war.

Indeed, the spell of the great movements
impending in the Free State began to catch
hold of me before I had travelled far on the
line towards Bloemfontein.  Train loads of
troops filled every station or siding.  A
ceaseless stream of men, horses, and guns
had been passing northwards for a fortnight,
and on the very day that I made the journey
Lord Kitchener had ordered that in future
all troops must march beyond Springfontein,
because the line must be cleared for the
passage of supplies, so that, besides the trains
in the sidings, there were columns by the
side of the railway steadily making their
way to the front.

The one passenger train in the day
stopped at Bethany.  I got out.  To go on
was to reach Bloemfontein at midnight.
Better, then, to sleep here and proceed at
dawn.

'Are there many troops here?' I asked.
They replied 'The whole of the Third
Division.'  'Who commands?'  'Gatacre.'  That
decided me.

I knew the general slightly, having made
his acquaintance up the Nile in pleasant
circumstances, for no one was allowed to
pass his mess hungry or thirsty.  I was
very anxious to see him and hear all about
Stormberg and the rest of the heavy
struggle along the eastern line of rail.  I found
him in a tin house close to the station.
He received me kindly, and we had a long
talk.  The General explained to me many
things which I had not understood before,
and after we had done with past events he
turned with a hopeful eye to the future.  At
last, and for the first time, he was going to
have the division of which he had originally
been given the command.

'You know I only had two and a half
battalions at Sterkstroom and a few colonial
horse; but now I have got both my brigades
complete.'

I thought him greatly altered from the
dashing, energetic man I had known up the
river, or had heard about on the frontier or
in plague-stricken Bombay.  Four months
of anxiety and abuse had left their mark on
him.  The weary task of keeping things
going with utterly insufficient resources, and
in the face of an adroit and powerful
enemy in a country of innumerable kopjes,
where every advantage lay with the Boer,
had bowed that iron frame and tired the
strange energy which had made him so
remarkable among soldiers.  But when he
thought of the future his face brightened.
The dark days were over.  The broken
rocky wilderness lay behind, and around
rolled the grassy plains of the Free State.
He had his whole division at last.
Moreover, there was prospect of immediate
action.  So I left him, for it was growing
late, and went my way.  Early next
morning he was dismissed from his command
and ordered to England, broken, ruined,
and disgraced.

I will not for one moment dispute the
wisdom or the justice of his removal.  In
stormy weather one must trust to the man
at the helm, and when he is such a man as
Lord Roberts it is not a very hard thing
to do.  But because General Gatacre has
been cruelly persecuted in England by
people quite ignorant of the difficulties of
war or of the conditions under which it is
carried on in this country, it is perhaps not
out of place to write a few words of
different tenor.

Gatacre was a man who made his way
in the army, not through any influence or
favour which he enjoyed, but by sheer hard
work and good service.  Wherever he had
served he had left a high record behind him.
On the Indian frontier he gained the
confidence of so fine a soldier as Sir Bindon
Blood, and it was largely to his reputation
won in the Chitral Expedition that his
subsequent advancement was due.  At Bombay
in 1897 he was entrusted with the duty of
fighting the plague, then first gripping its
deadly fingers into the city.  No one who
is at all acquainted with the course of this
pest will need to be told how excellent was
his work.  After the late Soudan campaign
I travelled from Bombay to Poona with a
Parsee gentleman, a wealthy merchant of the
plague-stricken town, and I well remember
how he dilated on the good which Gatacre
had done.

'He was our only chance,' said the black
man.  'Now he is gone, and the sickness
will stay for ever.'

Gatacre's part in the Soudan campaign
has been described at length elsewhere.  His
courage has never been questioned, because
the savage critics did not wish to damage
their cause by obvious absurdities.  If I were
to discuss his tactics in the Boer war here I
should soon get on to ground which I have
forbidden myself.  It is sufficient to
observe that Gatacre retained the confidence
and affection of his soldiers in the most
adverse circumstances.  When the weary
privates struggled back to camp after the
disastrous day at Stormburg they were quite
clear on one point: 'No one could have
got us out but him.'  Two days before he
was dismissed the Cameron Highlanders
passed through Bethany, and the men
recognised the impetuous leader of the Atbara
charge; and, knowing he had fallen among
evil days, cheered him in the chivalry of the
common man.  The poor general was much
moved at this spontaneous greeting, which
is a very rare occurrence in our phlegmatic,
well-ordered British Army.  Let us hope
the sound will long ring in his ears, and, as
it were, light a bright lamp of memory in
the chill and dreary evening of life.

Exit General Gatacre.  'Now,' as my
Parsee merchant remarked, 'he is gone';
and I suppose there are, here and there,
notes of triumph.  But among them I will
strike a note of warning.  If the War Office
breaks generals not so much for incapacity
as for want of success with any frequency,
it will not find men to fight for it in brigade
and divisional commands.  Every man who
knows the chances of war feels himself
insecure.  The initiative which an unsympathetic
discipline has already killed, or nearly
killed, in younger officers, will wither and die
in their superiors.  You will have generals
as before, but they will not willingly risk the
fruits of long years of service in damnable
countries and of perils of all kinds.  They
will look at the enemy's position.  They will
endeavour to divide responsibility.  They
will ask for orders or instructions.  But they
will not fight--if they can possibly help it,
and then only on the limited liability
principle, which means the shedding of much
blood without any result.  Besides, as an
irreverent subaltern remarked to me: 'If
you begin with Gatacre, where are you
going to end?  What about poor old ----?'

But I dare not pursue the subject further.





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.. _`AT HALF-WAY HOUSE`:

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   CHAPTER III

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   AT HALF-WAY HOUSE

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   Bloemfontein: April 16.

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After a decent interval let the curtain
rise on a new act.  The scene and most of
the characters are different, but it is the
same play.  The town--a town of brick and
tin--stands at the apparent edge of a vast
plain of withered grass, from whose
inhospitable aspect it turns and nestles, as if for
protection, round the scrub-covered hills to
northward.  From among the crowd of
one-storied dwelling-houses, more imposing
structures, the seats of Government and commerce,
rise prominently to catch the eye and
impress the mind with the pleasing prospect of
wealthier civilisation.  Here and there are
towers and pinnacles, and, especially
remarkable, a handsome building surrounded in the
classic style by tall white pillars, and,
surmounted by a lofty dome, looks like a
Parliament House, but for the Red Cross
flag which flies from the summit and
proclaims that, whatever may have been its
former purposes, the spacious hall within is
at last devoted to the benefit of mankind.
The dark hills--their uncertain outline
marked at one point by the symmetrical
silhouette of a fort--form the background
of the picture: Bloemfontein, April, 1900.

It is five o'clock in the afternoon.  The
Market-square is crowded with officers and
soldiers listening to the band of the Buffs.
Every regiment in the service, every Colony
in the Empire is represented; all clad in
uniform khaki, but distinguished by an
extraordinary variety of badges.

Each group is a miniature system of
Imperial Federation.  The City Volunteer talks
to a Queensland Mounted Infantryman, who
hands his matchbox to a private of the Line.
A Bushman from New Zealand, a Cambridge
undergraduate, and a tea-planter from
Ceylon stroll up and make the conversation
general.  On every side all kinds of men
are intermingled, united by the sympathy of
a common purpose and soldered together in
the fire of war.  And this will be of great
consequence later on.

The inhabitants--bearded Burghers who
have made their peace, townsfolk who never
desired to make a quarrel--stand round and
watch complacently.  After all, there are
worse things than to be defeated.  Demand
is keen, the army is wealthy, and prices
are high.  Trade has followed hard on the
flag which waves from every building; and,
whether it be for merchandise or farm
produce, the market is buoyant.

The officers congregate about the pretentious
building of the club, and here I find
acquaintances gathered together from all the
sentry beats of the Empire, for the regular
army usually works like a kaleidoscope, and,
new combinations continually forming, scatter
old friends in every direction.  But here
all are collected once more, and the man we
met on the frontier, the man we met 'up
the river,' the man we met at manoeuvres
with the comrade of Sandhurst, the friend
or enemy of Harrow days, and the rival of
a Meerut tournament, stand in a row
together.  Merry military music, laughing faces,
bright, dainty little caps, a moving throng,
and the consciousness that this means a
victorious British Army in the capital of the
Free State, drive away all shadows from the mind.

One cannot see any gaps in the crowd;
it is so full of animation that the spaces
where Death has put his hand are not to
be seen.  The strong surges of life have
swept across them as a sunny sea closes over
the foundered ship.  Yet they are not quite
forgotten.

'Hullo, my dear old boy, I am glad to see
you.  When did you get up here?  Have
you brought ---- with you?  Oh, I am sorry.
It must have been a fever-stricken hole that
Ladysmith.  Poor chap!  Do you remember
how he .... Charlie has gone home.  He
can never play polo again--expanding bullet
smashed his arm all to bits.  Bad luck, wasn't
it?  Now we've got to find a new back .... and
---- was killed at Paardeberg .... spoiled
the whole team.'  The band struck
into a lively tune.  'How long is it going to
last?'

'With luck it ought to be over by October,
just a year from start to finish.'

'I thought you said something about
Pretoria the third week in March.'

'Ah, I must have meant May, or, perhaps, June.'

'Or August.'

'Who can tell?  But I think this is the
half-way house.'

The conversation stops abruptly.  Everyone
looks round.  Strolling across the middle
of the square, quite alone, was a very small
grey-haired gentleman, with extremely broad
shoulders and a most unbending back.  He
wore a staff cap with a broad red band and
a heavy gold-laced peak, brown riding boots,
a tightly-fastened belt, and no medals, orders,
or insignia of any kind.  But no one doubted
his identity for an instant, and I knew that I
was looking at the Queen's greatest subject,
the commander who had in the brief space of
a month revolutionised the fortunes of the
war, had turned disaster into victory, and
something like despair into almost inordinate
triumph.

Other soldiers of career and quality mingle
with the diversified throng.  Macdonald sits
on a bay pony near the club verandah talking
to Martyr of the Mounted Infantry and of
Central African repute.  Pole-Carew, who
came to the Cape as Sir Redvers Buller's
camp commandant, and passed at a bound to
brigadier-general, and by another still greater
leap to the command of the Eleventh
Division, canters across the square.  General
French and his staff have just ridden up.
But the central figure holds all eyes, and
everyone knows that it is on him, and him
alone, that the public fortunes depend.

Such was the scene on the afternoon of
my arrival in Bloemfontein.  What of the
situation?  The first thing to be done after
the occupation of the town was to re-open
the railway.  The presence of a large army
in their rear and the swift advance of Gatacre
and Clements compelled the invaders to
withdraw from Cape Colony, so that Norval's
Pont and Bethulie bridges were once more
in British hands.  Both were, however,
destroyed or partially destroyed.  Besides these,
various other smaller bridges and culverts
had been blown up.  All these were forthwith
repaired by the engineers, and through
communication by rail was established
between the advanced Field Army in the Free
State and the sea bases at East London,
Port Elizabeth, and Capetown.

In the meantime the Army at Bloemfontein
lived on the reserve of rations it had
carried from Modder River.  When the railway
was opened the line from Modder River was
dropped.  A broad-gauge railway, even
though it be only a single line, is usually
capable of supplying an army of at least
50,000 men with considerable ease, and the
reader may remember how the Natal
Government Railway was able to support 30,000
men through January and February, to
transport reinforcements and sick, and to run all
its ordinary traffic in addition.  But the
repaired or provisional bridges on the
Bloemfontein line caused so much delay that the
carrying power of the railway was seriously
diminished.  When a permanent bridge has
been blown up two alternatives present
themselves to the engineers: a high level
or a low level substitute.  The high level
bridge, such as was thrown across the Tugela
after the relief of Ladysmith, takes much
longer to build, but, when built, trains are
run straight over it with very little
diminution of speed.  It is, moreover, secure
against floods.

The low level bridge must be approached
by zigzag ramps, which impose frequent
shuntings, and cause great delay; and it is,
of course, only to be trusted when there are
no floods.  But it has this inestimable
advantage in military operations: speed in
construction.  The Army must be fed
immediately.  So the low level bridges were chosen;
hence an early but reduced supply.  When
this was further minimised by the passage of
reinforcements the commissariat depôts could
scarcely make headway, but must be content
to feed the Army from day to day and
accumulate at the rate, perhaps, of only one day
in three, or even one in four.  It was,
therefore, evident that no offensive movement
to the northward could be made for several weeks.

See how the stomach governs the world.
By the rapid invasion of their territories, by
the staggering blows which they had been
dealt at Kimberley, Paardeburg, Poplar
Grove, and Dreifontein, and by the bad
news from Natal, the Boers in the Free
State were demoralised.  If we could have
pressed them unceasingly the whole
country would have been conquered to the
Vaal River.  Encouraged by Lord
Roberts's Proclamation, and believing that all
resistance in the Southern Republic was
at an end, great numbers of Free Staters
returned to their homes, took the oath of
neutrality, and prepared to accept the inevitable.

But while the Army waited, as it was
absolutely forced to wait, to get supplies, to
get horses--to get thousands of horses--to
give the Infantry new boots, and all arms a
little breathing space, the Boers recovered
from their panic, pulled themselves together,
and, for the moment, boldly seized the offensive.

Great, though perhaps temporary, were
the advantages which they gained.  The
belief that the war in the Free State was at an
end, which had led so many of the Burghers
to return to their farms, was shared to some
extent by the British commander, and loudly
proclaimed by his colonial advisers.  To
protect the farmers who had made their
peace the Imperial forces were widely
extended.  A line was drawn across the Free
State from Fourteen Streams, through
Boshof, Bloemfontein, and Thabanchu, south of
which it was assumed that the country was
pacified and conquered.

Meanwhile Olivier and the southern
commando, recalled from their operations in the
Cape Colony, were making a hurried, and,
as it seemed, a desperate march to rejoin the
main Boer forces.  They expected the attack
of the same terrible Army which had already
devoured Cronje; nor was it until they reached
Ladybrand and found only Pilcher with a
few hundred men snapping at their heels
that they realised that the bulk of the
British troops were for the moment practically
immobile at Bloemfontein.  Then they turned.

Pilcher fled warily before them, and fell
back on Broadwood's Brigade, near
Thabanchu.  With renewed courage and strong
reinforcements from their friends north of
the line of occupation they pressed on.
Broadwood was compelled to fall back on
the Ninth Division, which was camped west
of the waterworks.  He made a twenty-mile
march at night and laagered in the
small hours of the morning, thinking, as
most people would think, that pursuit was
for the time being shaken off.  Morning
broke, and with it a Boer cannonade.

I do not intend to be drawn into a
detailed description of the action that followed.
For many reasons it deserves separate and
detailed consideration, chiefly because it
shows the Boer at his very best: crafty in
war and, above all things, deadly cool.  In
a word, what happened was this: The shells
crashed into the laager.  Everyone said,
'Take the blasted waggons out of the shell
fire.  We will cover their retreat'; which
they did most beautifully: Broadwood
displaying all the skill which had enabled him
to disentangle the reconnaissance of the 5th
of April near the Atbara from the clutches
of the Dervishes.  The said waggons
hurried out of the shell fire only to fall into the
frying-pan of an ambuscade.  Guns, prisoners,
and much material fell into the hands of the
Boers.  The Ninth Division retreated
suddenly--too suddenly, say the Army, with
other remarks which it is not my business to
transcribe--on Bloemfontein, and the force
of the storm fell on Gatacre.

Gatacre had a post at Dewetsdorp: three
companies of the Royal Irish Rifles, two of
Mounted Infantry.  So soon as he heard of
the retirement of the Ninth Division he sent
orders by many routes for his post to fall
back too.  They fell back accordingly; but at
Reddersburg the net closed round them.
Let us judge no man harshly or in ignorance.
Fighting followed.  With a loss of eight
killed and thirty-one wounded, the retreating
troops surrendered when relief was scarcely
five miles away.  Everything curled back
on to Bloemfontein and the railway line,
which it was *vital* to hold.  Reinforcements
were thrust to the front to meet the
emergency: Rundle, with the Eighth Division,
was diverted from Kimberley to
Springfontein; Hunter, with the Tenth Division
(our old friends the Irish and Fusilier
Brigades), started from Natal, thus condemning
Buller to the strict defensive, and the Boers
swept southward.

Now, in accordance with the terms of
Lord Roberts's Proclamation, many farmers
of the Free State, fighting men of the Boer
Army--that is to say, who had thought that
all was up: deserters, in other words--had
come into the British posts, made their
submission, taken the oath, and returned to their
farms.  The Boers were very angry with
these people.  What protection could we
give them?  Some, it is said--it may be a
lie--were shot by the enemy.  Most of them,
from fear or inclination, rejoined their commandos.

The whole of the right-hand bottom
corner of the Free State was overrun.
Southward still hastened the Boer forces.
Brabant was the next to feel the tempest.
His garrison in Wepener was assailed,
surrounded, fought well--perhaps is now fighting
desperately.  Other Boers approached the
rebel districts of Cape Colony.  The lately
penitent rebels stirred, are stirring.

Mark, by the way, this sedition is not the
result of misplaced generosity but of military
misfortunes.  No one expects beaten men to
be grateful; but, under certain conditions,
they will be loyal.  An enemy at their
throats is not one of those conditions.
Southward still sweep the commandos
*with empty carts*, for this is the most fertile
of all the Republican territories; and, in the
meanwhile, what are we doing?  Divisions
and brigades are being moved by a strong
yet deliberate hand.  The hope--general
and special idea in one--is to catch these
bold fellows who have thrust their heads
thus far into the lion's mouth and
enjoyed until now such immunity.  Wepeper
making a brave defence; Brabant marching
through Rouxville to bar their advance;
Rundle, Chermside, and Brabazon striking
east from Edenburg to shut the door behind
them with two Infantry divisions, twenty-four
guns, and 2,000 Yeomanry; and, further
north, the great Bloemfontein Army--four
Infantry divisions, Hamilton's 10,000
mounted men, French's four Cavalry
brigades, and many guns--is almost ready to
move.  Assuredly these Boers are in a
dangerous place.  Will they escape?  Will they,
perhaps, carry some part of the intercepting
lines with them as a trophy of victory?
'Qui vivra verra,' and, if these letters
continue, 'who runs may read,' for I purpose to
journey *viâ* Edenburg to Reddersburg
to-morrow, and thence on to the point of
collision, which must mark the climax of this
extremely interesting event henceforward to
be called 'The Operations in the Right-hand
Bottom Corner of the Free State.'





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.. _`TWO DAYS WITH BRABAZON`:

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   CHAPTER IV

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   TWO DAYS WITH BRABAZON

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   Before Dewetsdorp: April 21.

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When the incursion of the Boers into the
recently pacified districts became known, the
Eighth Division (Rundle) was diverted from
Kimberley, whither it was proceeding, and
concentrated at Springfontein.  The Third
Division (Chermside, in supersession of
Gatacre) massed at Bethany.  Still more
troops were needed to guard the line and
clear the country.

Sir Redvers Buller was asked whether he
could co-operate by forcing Van Reenen's
Pass and bringing pressure on the enemy's
line of retreat.  His position in the centre
of the triangle of Natal was, however, an
inconvenient one.  The strategic advantages
possessed by the Boers in this scene of the
war have before been noticed.  But it may
be worth while to explain them again.

The enemy possess the superiority of an
enveloping frontier.  If Sir Redvers Buller
moves west through Van Reenen's Pass to
make the diversion required in the Free
State, down will come the Boers from the
Biggarsburg on his communications and into
South Natal.  If he moves north to attack
the Biggarsburg positions in order to clear
Natal he will cut the Boers on his left flank
and line.

According to the best information there
are three thousand Boers on the Drakensburg
Passes, and ten thousand on the Biggarsburg.
Buller, therefore, would have preferred
to mask Van Reenen's with the
Ladysmith Division (Fourth, Lyttelton),
which was getting well and strong again,
and move northwards with the Second,
Fifth, and Tenth Divisions.  He did not
consider until northern Natal should be
cleared that he could safely move westward.
On the other hand, the need in the Free
State was urgent, and it was therefore
arranged that the Tenth Division (Hunter)
should come by sea to East London--one
brigade to replace the division diverted from
Kimberley, one brigade to Bethulie, and that
the rest of the Natal Field Army should
remain strictly on the defensive until the
situation was materially altered.

Practically, therefore, five brigades of
troops were available for the operations in
the right-hand bottom corner: Hart, with a
brigade of Hunter's Division at Bethulie,
the Third and Eighth Divisions under
Chermside and Rundle at Springfontein and
Bethany.  Besides these powerful bodies,
which were quite independent of the
communication troops or the Bloemfontein
Army, there were fourteen hundred
Yeomanry and Mounted Infantry under General
Brabazon, and Brabant's Colonial Brigade,
about two thousand five hundred strong.

It is scarcely necessary to follow all the
movements in exact detail.  Rundle formed
a column at Edenburg, and, marching to
Reddersburg, joined his force to part of
Chermside's Division from Bethany, thus
having under his immediate command eight
battalions, four batteries, and Brabazon's
Mounted Brigade.  Another brigade was
collecting at Edenburg under Campbell.
Hart was moved north-east towards
Rouxville, where was also Brabant with a
thousand horse.  The rest of Brabant's force,
some fifteen hundred strong, were blockaded
in Wepener by the enemy.  Such was the
situation when I left Bloemfontein on the
morning of the 17th.

I travelled prosperously; came by rail to
Edenburg, trekked from there in drenching
rains, most unusual for this time of year,
and greatly increasing the difficulties of
supply; and, resting for the night at
Reddersburg, caught up the marching column in its
camp, about eleven miles from Dewetsdorp,
on the night of the 19th.

The position of the various troops was
then as follows: Rundle, with eight
battalions, four batteries, and fifteen hundred
horse at Oorlogs Poorte, about twelve miles
from Dewetsdorp; Campbell, with two
battalions and a battery near Rosendal,
marching to join him; the Grenadier Guards
double marching through Reddersburg to
catch up the main force; Hart, with four
battalions in Rouxville; Brabant, with one
thousand horsemen eight miles north of
Rouxville; Dalgety, with a garrison of
fifteen hundred men, holding Wepener.

.. _`Operations in the Orange Free State, April, 1900`:

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   :align: center
   :alt: Operations in the \O.\F.\S. April, 1900.

   Operations in the \O.\F.\S. April, 1900.

So far as could be learned the enemy had
about seven thousand men with twelve guns
south of the Bloemfontein-Thabanchu line
under Commandants Olivier and De Wet,
and with this force, which made up in
enterprise and activity what it lacked in numbers
or material, they were attempting to
blockade and attack Wepener, to bar the road of
Rundle's column to Dewetsdorp, and to
check Brabant and Hart at Smithfield.
Besides proposing this ambitious programme,
the Boers sent their patrols riding about the
country commandeering all pacified farmers
under threats of death.

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   \*      \*      \*      \*      \*

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We had a very pleasant ride from
Reddersburg, and it was evening when we
rounded the shoulder of a grassy hill and
saw the camp of the main British column
before us.  It lay about the foot of a
prominent knoll rising from a broad plain, which
was in striking contrast to the mountains of
Natal, and seemed to promise ample
opportunity to the regular soldier.  'Camp' is,
perhaps, an inaccurate description, for there
were scarcely any tents to be seen, and the
rolling ground was littered with swarms of
grazing horses and oxen, and overspread
with an immense canopy of white smoke
from the hundreds of gleaming grass fires
lighted to cook the soldiers' suppers.  I
presented myself to Sir Leslie Rundle, who
received me courteously, and briefly
explained the outlines of the situation.  We
had arrived in the nick of time.  The whole
force would march at dawn.  The scouts
had exchanged shots during the day.  The
Kaffir spies reported that the enemy would
fight on the morrow.  What could be better?
So with much satisfaction we went to bed.

There was a biting chill in the air when
the first light of dawn began to grow in the
sky, nor was I the only one who searched a
modest kit for some of those warm clothes
which our friends at home have thoughtfully
been sending out.  The South African
winter was drawing near.  But the sun soon
rose, and we shivered no longer.  The
Cavalry were early astir.  Indeed their mounted
squadrons in silhouette against the
morning sky was my first waking impression, and
by half-past five all were in motion.  I
started a little later, but it was not long
before I overtook them.  Though the
command was not a large one it presented
several interesting features.

For the first time I saw the Imperial
Yeomanry in the field.  Trotting across the
beautiful green pasture land in a most
extended formation, to which they seemed
readily to adapt themselves, were seven
hundred Yeomen, all good men and true,
who had volunteered to fight because they
understood the main causes of the quarrel,
and from personal conviction earnestly
desired to be of some assistance to the State,
and who were, moreover, excellently
mounted on smart, short-docked cobs, which they
sat and rode like the sportsmen they mostly were.

We were moving along in a wide formation,
which secured us against all possibilities
of surprise, when suddenly I noticed that the
scouts far in front were halted.

'Tit-tat, tit-tat': two shots from a high
plateau to the right.  Shots fired towards
you, I must explain, make a double, and
those fired away from you a single, report.

We had flushed one of the enemy's
outposts.  Riding nearer, I could see their
figures--seven in all--exposed on the
skyline.  This showed they were only an
outpost, and wished to make us believe they
were more.  When the Boer is in force he
is usually invisible.  Still, the position was a
strong one, and it is always a possibility
worth considering with the Boer that he
may foresee your line of thought, and just
go one step further, out of contrariness.
General Brabazon therefore halted his centre
squadrons and detached a turning force of
three companies of Yeomanry to the right.

We waited, watching the scouts exchange
shots with the Boer picket, and watching--for
it was a very pretty sight--the Yeomanry
spread out and gallop away to the flank like
a pack of hounds in full cry, each
independent, yet the whole simultaneous.  In a
quarter of an hour they were scrambling
up the steep sides of the plateau almost
in rear of the obstructive picket, which
hurriedly departed while time remained.  Then
the centre swung forward, and the whole
Cavalry force advanced again, the greater
part of it moving on to the plateau, where a
running fight with the Dutch outposts now
commenced at long range.

Several times we thought that we had
unmasked their main position, and that the
Cavalry work for the day was over; but each
time Brabazon's turning movement on the
right, the execution of which was entrusted
to Colonel Sitwell, a very dashing officer of
Egyptian note, compelled them to fall back.
After an hour of this sort of thing we were
in possession of practically the whole of the
plateau, which turned out to be of large
extent.

Beyond it, commanding it, essential to it,
yet not of it, was a steep rocky kopje.  The
swift advance and the necessity of pressing
the enemy had left the Infantry a long way
behind.  The General felt, however, that this
point must be secured.  McNeill made a
dash for it with the scouts.  The Yeomanry
galloped off to the right again, as if about
to surround it, and the Boers allowed
themselves to be bounced out of this strong and
important position, and scampered away to
a smooth green hill a mile in rear.
Brabazon made haste to occupy the captured
kopje in force, and did so just in time,
for as soon as the turning force--two
companies (I am going to call them squadrons in
future) of yeomanry and a company of
Mounted Infantry--approached the green
hill, the musketry suddenly grew from an
occasional drip into a regular patter, and
there was the loud boom of a field gun.
We had found the main Boer position,
and the Cavalry came to a standstill.  The
enemy now directed a very sharp fire on
the captured kopje, which, it seems, they
originally intended to hold had they not been
hustled out of it as has been described.
They also shelled the Yeomanry--who
were continuing the flank movement--rather
heavily as they retired, inflicting some loss.

We had now to wait for the Infantry, and
they lagged on the road.  The Boer fire
began to take effect.  Several soldiers were
carried wounded off the top of the
hill--one poor fellow shot through both
cheekbones.  Others had to lie where they were
struck because it was not possible to move
them while the fire was so accurate.

On the reverse slope, however, there was
good cover for man and horse.  Some of the
men were engaged for the first time, and
though their behaviour was excellent, the
General thought it necessary to walk along
the firing line and speak a few words here
and there.

The Infantry still lagged on the road, but
at about two o'clock Sir Leslie Rundle
himself arrived.  The firing about the kopje
had been loud, and a rumour--who starts
these tales?--ran back along the marching
columns that the Cavalry were hard pressed,
were running short of ammunition, and that
the Boers were turning both flanks.  At any
rate, I found anxious faces in the divisional
staff.

Rundle considered that the retention of
the kopje was of first importance, and Sir
Herbert Chermside, his second in command,
fully agreed with him.  But the Infantry of
the advanced guard were alone near enough.
It was decided to push them on.  At this
moment a reassuring message arrived from
Brabazon engaging that he could hold his
own, and hoping the Infantry would not be
hurried so as to lose their breath.

Everyone was very cheerful after this,
and when at last the leading battalion--the
Worcester Regiment--marched to the kopje
all were able to admire the fine cool way in
which they crossed the dangerous ground
behind it; and I myself saw three pom-pom
shells strike all around a young officer, who
waved his rifle thereat in high delight, and
shouted out loudly, 'By the left!' an order
the purport of which I am as uncertain as
the reader, but which, doubtless, was
encouraging in spirit.  When the Infantry had
relieved the mounted men the latter
withdrew to safer positions, and as the evening
was drawing on the action came to an end--by
mutual consent and by the effective
intervention of the British Artillery.

The events of the next day, though
according to the scale of the war unimportant,
were nevertheless instructive from the
military point of view, and, so far as they
concerned me, sufficiently exciting to require, if
not to deserve, a letter to themselves.





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.. _`Two Days with Brabazon--*Continued*`:

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   CHAPTER V

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   TWO DAYS WITH BRABAZON (*continued*)

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   Camp before Dewetsdorp: April 22.

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Whether I am to see the white cliffs of
Dover again I know not, nor will I attempt
to predict.  But it seems that my fortunes
in this land are to be a succession of
adventures and escapes, any one of which would
suffice for a personal experience of the
campaign.  I acquit myself of all desire to seek
for these.  Indeed, I have zealously tried to
avoid all danger except what must attend a
War Correspondent's precarious existence.
This I recognise as a necessary evil, for the
lot of the writer in the field is a hard and
heavy one.  'All the danger of war and
one-half per cent. the glory': such is our
motto, and that is the reason why we expect
large salaries.  But these hazards swoop on
me out of a cloudless sky, and that I have
hitherto come unscathed through them,
while it fills my heart with thankfulness to
God for His mercies, makes me wonder why
I must be so often thrust to the brink and
then withdrawn.

However, I will tell the tale of the doings
of the Army, and what happened to me
shall fill its proper place, so that the reader
may himself be the judge of the matter.

The night of the 20th passed quietly, but
the Boers were awake with the sunrise and
saluted us with discharges of the 'pom-pom,'
which, as far as I could see, did no harm to
anyone.  We could not press the attack on
the previous day because the Infantry were
tired out and the enemy's position of
sufficient natural strength to make an assault a
serious business.  In the night the
Dutchmen had been busy, and the black lines of
entrenchments marked the hill-sides.  When
I inquired whether there would be a battle
or not that day, staff officers pointed over
the veldt to a column of dust which was
coming slowly nearer.

General Campbell, with three battalions
(including two of her Majesty's Guards)
and a battery, was marching to join the main
column.  It was necessary, in view of the
entrenchments and the approaching
reinforcements, to wait until the force was
complete.  The event would be decided on the
morrow, and meanwhile Brabazon and the
mounted troops--Cavalry, I shall call
them--were to make a reconnaissance of the Boer
left.

The brigade, which included the Mounted
Infantry, and was about a thousand strong,
moved southward behind the outpost line
and, making a rapid and wide circuit, soon
came on the enemy's left flank.  Here we
waited while patrols were pushed out and
while Brabazon was clearing his own right
by a still wider turning movement.  The
patrols soon drew the fire of the Boer
pickets, and the rifle shots began to ring out
in the clear cool air of the morning.
Presently a party of a dozen Boers appeared in
the distance, galloping down towards a farm
whence they might fire on the gradually
advancing Cavalry.  The General asked the
subaltern in charge of our two guns whether
they were within range.  The young officer
was anxious to try.  We watched the
experiment with attention.

The practice was extremely good.  The
first shell burst in the middle of the Boer
horsemen, who at once spread into a looser
formation.  The next exploded in front of
them, and all the seven shells that were
fired fell within measurable distance of someone.

For the first time in this war I saw the
Boers show what I consider cowardice; for
without anyone being killed or wounded the
whole party turned back and, abandoning
their intention or duty, scurried away to
cover behind the long swell of ground over
which they had come.  The Boer Army in
Natal was not thus easily dissuaded from its
objects.

Meanwhile the flanking movement was in
progress, and as the ground to our right was
gradually made good and secured by Colonel
Sitwell, Brabazon pushed his centre forward
until McNeill's scouts were cantering all
over the slopes where the Boers had just
been shelled, and hunting such of the enemy
as tarried to safer and more remote
positions.  At last we arrived at the edge of the
swell of ground.  It fell steeply towards a
flat basin, from the middle of which rose a
most prominent and peculiar kopje.  Invisible
behind this was Dewetsdorp.  Round it
stood Boers, some mounted, some on foot,
to the number of about two hundred.

Our rapid advance, almost into the heart
of their position, had disturbed and alarmed
them.  They were doubtful whether this was
reconnaissance or actual attack.  They
determined to make certain by making an
attempt to outflank the outflanking cavalry;
and no sooner had our long-range rifle fire
compelled them to take cover behind the hill
than a new force, as it seemed, of two
hundred rode into the open and passing across
our front at a distance of, perhaps, 2,000
yards, made for a white stone kopje on our right.

Angus McNeill ran up to the General.
'Sir, may we cut them off?  I think we can
just do it.'  The scouts pricked up their ears.
The General reflected.  'All right,' he said,
'you may try.'

'Mount, mount, mount, the scouts!' cried
their impetuous officer, scrambling into his
saddle.  Then, to me, 'Come with us, we'll
give you a show now--first-class.'

A few days before, in an unguarded
moment, I had promised to follow the fortunes
of the scouts for a day.  I looked at the
Boers, they were nearer to the white stone
kopje than we, but, on the other hand, they
had the hill to climb, and were probably
worse mounted.  It might be done, and if it
were done--I thought of the affair of Acton
Homes--how dearly they would have to pay
in that open plain.  So, in the interests of
the 'Morning Post,' I got on my horse and
we all started--forty or fifty scouts, McNeill
and I, as fast as we could, by hard spurring,
make the horses go.

It was from the very beginning a race, and
recognised as such by both sides.  As we
converged I saw the five leading Boers,
better mounted than their comrades, outpacing
the others in a desperate resolve to secure
the coign of vantage.  I said, 'We cannot
do it'; but no one would admit defeat or
leave the matter undecided.  The rest is
exceedingly simple.

We arrived at a wire fence 100 yards--to
be accurate 120 yards--from the crest of the
kopje, dismounted, and, cutting the wire,
were about to seize the precious rocks
when--as I had seen them in the railway cutting
at Frere, grim, hairy and terrible--the heads
and shoulders of a dozen Boers appeared;
and how many more must be close behind them?

There was a queer, almost inexplicable,
pause, or perhaps there was no pause at all;
but I seem to remember much happening.
First the Boers--one fellow with a long,
drooping, black beard, and a chocolate-coloured
coat, another with a red scarf round
his neck.  Two scouts cutting the wire fence
stupidly.  One man taking aim across his
horse, and McNeill's voice, quite steady:
'Too late; back to the other kopje.  Gallop!'

Then the musketry crashed out, and the
'swish' and 'whirr' of the bullets filled the
air.  I put my foot in the stirrup.  The horse,
terrified at the firing, plunged wildly.  I tried
to spring into the saddle; it turned under
the animal's belly.  He broke away, and
galloped madly off.  Most of the scouts
were already 200 yards off.  I was alone,
dismounted, within the closest range, and a
mile at least from cover of any kind.

One consolation I had--my pistol.  I
could not be hunted down unarmed in the
open as I had been before.  But a disabling
wound was the brightest prospect.  I turned,
and, for the second time in this war, ran for
my life on foot from the Boer marksmen,
and I thought to myself, 'Here at last I
take it.'  Suddenly, as I ran, I saw a scout.
He came from the left, across my front; a
tall man, with skull and crossbones badge,
and on a pale horse.  Death in Revelation,
but life to me.

I shouted to him as he passed: 'Give me
a stirrup.'  To my surprise he stopped at
once.  'Yes,' he said, shortly.  I ran up to
him, did not bungle in the business of
mounting, and in a moment found myself behind
him on the saddle.

Then we rode.  I put my arms around
him to catch a grip of the mane.  My hand
became soaked with blood.  The horse was
hard hit; but, gallant beast, he extended
himself nobly.  The pursuing bullets piped
and whistled--for the range was growing
longer--overhead.

'Don't be frightened,' said my rescuer;
'they won't hit you.'  Then, as I did not
reply, 'My poor horse, oh, my poor ----
horse; shot with an explosive bullet.  The
devils!  But their hour will come.  Oh, my
poor horse!'

I said, 'Never mind, you've saved my
life.'  'Ah,' he rejoined, 'but it's the horse
I'm thinking about.'  That was the whole of
our conversation.

Judging from the number of bullets I
heard I did not expect to be hit after the first
500 yards were covered, for a galloping horse
is a difficult target, and the Boers were
breathless and excited.  But it was with a
feeling of relief that I turned the corner of
the further kopje and found I had thrown
double sixes again.

The result of the race had been watched
with strained attention by the rest of the
troops, and from their position they knew
that we were beaten before we ever reached
the wire fence.  They had heard the sudden
fierce crackle of musketry and had seen what
had passed.  All the officers were agreed
that the man who pulled up in such a
situation to help another was worthy of some
honourable distinction.  Indeed, I have
heard that Trooper Roberts--note the name,
which seems familiar in this connection--is
to have his claims considered for the
Victoria Cross.  As to this I will not pronounce,
for I feel some diffidence in writing
impartially of a man who certainly saved me from
a great danger.

Well satisfied with my brief experience
with the scouts, I returned to General
Brabazon.  While we had been advancing
deeply into the Boer flank, they had not been
idle, and now suddenly, from the side of the
solitary kopje behind which they had
collected, three guns came into action against us.
For ten minutes the shell fire was really
hot.  As these guns were firing with black
powder, the smoke springing out in a thick
white cloud from the muzzle warned us
whenever a projectile was on its way, and, I
think, added to the strain on the nerves.
You could watch the distant artillery.
There was the gun again; four or five
seconds to wonder whether the shell would
hit you in the face; the approaching hiss
rushing into a rending shriek; safe over;
bang! right among the horses a hundred
yards behind.  Here comes the next--two
guns fired together this time.  Altogether,
the Boers fired nearly thirty shells--several
of which were shrapnel--on this small space
of ground.  But fate was in a merciful
mood that day, for we had but one man
killed and five or six--including the
General's orderly--wounded by them.

It was, however, evident that this could
not endure.  Brabazon had not cared to
bring his own two guns into such an advanced
position, because they were not horse
guns, and might not be able to get away
safely if the Boers should make a strong
counter attack.  Indeed, so long as the loss
of guns is considered a national disaster
instead of only an ordinary incident of war,
Cavalry officers will regard them rather as
sources of anxiety than as powerful weapons.

Without guns it was useless to stay, and
as, moreover, Sir Leslie Rundle's orders
were that the Cavalry were not to be severely
engaged, Brabazon decided to withdraw the
reconnaissance, and did so most successfully,
after an instructive little rearguard action.
He had penetrated far into the enemy's
position; had compelled him to move his
guns and disturb his frontal dispositions; had
reconnoitred the ground, located the laagers,
and come safely away with the loss of little
more than a dozen men.  Had there been
on this day an Infantry support behind the
Cavalry we should have hustled the enemy
out of his whole position and slept
triumphantly in Dewetsdorp.

Sir Leslie Rundle was much impressed
by the vigour and success of the Cavalry,
whose fortunes were watched from the
plateau, and as evening came the report spread
through the camp that a general engagement
would be fought on the next day.  He also
decided to entrust the direction of the actual
turning attack to General Brabazon, who,
besides his Cavalry force, was to have twelve
guns and an Infantry brigade under his
command.

With every feeling of confidence in the
issue the Army went to bed, impatient for
the dawn.  But in the dead of night a
telegram arrived from Lord Roberts, instructing
Rundle not to press his attack until he was
in touch with Pole-Carew and other reinforcements;
and it thus became evident that the
operations had grown to an altogether larger
scale.





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.. _`THE DEWETSDORP EPISODE`:

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   CHAPTER VI

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   THE DEWETSDORP EPISODE

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   Bloemfontein: May 1

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Sometimes it happens that these letters
are devoted to describing small incidents,
and often personal experiences in a degree of
detail which, if the rest of the campaign
were equally narrated, would expand the
account to limits far beyond the industry of
the writer or the patience of the reader.  At
others many important events must be
crowded into a few pages.  But though the
proportions of the tale may vary, I shall not
deserve criticism so long as the original
object of conveying a lively impression of the
war is strictly pursued; nor should the
reader complain if, for his instruction or
amusement, he is made one day to sit with
the map of the Orange Free State spread
before him, and move little flags to show the
course of the operations, and on another day
is invited to share the perils of a scout's
patrol or try the chances of a cavalry
skirmish.  To-day there is much to tell, and we
must remain almost beyond the sound of the
cannon watching a distant panorama.

The object of the operations was in any
case to relieve Wepener, and to clear the
right hand bottom corner of the Orange Free
State of the Boers, and, if the enterprise
prospered and the fates were kind, to cut off
and capture some part of their forces.  In all
five columns were in motion.  There were to
be demonstrations along the east of the
railway line, increasing in earnestness according
as they were nearer the south, and the
lowest columns were to actually push the matter
through.  Ian Hamilton, with 2,000 Mounted
Infantry, was ordered to demonstrate
against the waterworks position.  French,
supported by Pole-Carew, was instructed to
move on Leeukop.  Rundle, in conjunction
with Hart and Brabant from the southward,
was to force his way to Dewetsdorp and to
relieve Wepener.  What befell his column
on April 20 and 21 has already been
described.  The attack on the Boer position
in front of Dewetsdorp had not been made
on the 20th because Sir Herbert Chermside
pointed out that the Infantry were fatigued
with marching.  The next morning the
smooth hills were crowned with entrenchments,
and it was thought better to wait for
Campbell's Brigade, which would arrive at
sundown.

The 22nd was to be the day of battle.
Meanwhile Sir Leslie Rundle had
telegraphed to Lord Roberts describing the
horseshoe position of the enemy, and its
strength, explaining that with the small
mounted force at his disposal any attack
which he might make would develop into
something very like a frontal attack, and
would be costly.  A strong memorandum had
previously been circulated among divisional
and brigade commanders condemning,
almost prohibiting, frontal attacks, and the
General, not unnaturally, wished to assure
himself that the price of victory would not
be grudged.  When this telegram reached
Bloemfontein it was apparently misunderstood.
'Rundle is hung up,' they said.  'He
can't get on'; and hence the reply which
arrived in the dead of night, and prevented
the attack of the 22nd.  'Wait till you get
into touch with Pole-Carew,' or words to that
effect.  So the powerful force--almost equal
in strength to that with which Sir George
White had resisted the first fury of the
Boers when, with 25,000 men under the
Commandant-General himself, they burst
into Natal--was relegated to some days of
pusillanimous waiting in front of a position
held by scarcely 2,500 men.

After breakfast on the morning of the
unfought battle I climbed to the top of the
hill the cavalry had seized two days
before, and which the soldiers had christened
"Brab's kopje.'  A fifteen hundred yards
musketry duel was proceeding, and it was
dangerous to put one's head over the stone
shelters even for a minute to look at the
Boer entrenchments on the green slope
opposite.  But such was not my purpose.  I
scanned the northern horizon.  Far away
on a peak of the misty blue hills there
flashed a diamond.  It was Pole-Carew.
Half an hour later another star began to
twinkle further to the eastward.  French
and his cavalry were riding steadily
forward, 'fighting, too,' said the heliograph,
'but pushing them back.'  The scale of the
operations had grown indeed.  No less
than five infantry and three cavalry brigades,
with more than seventy guns, were involved
in the business of dislodging 2,500 Boers
from their position in front of Dewetsdorp.

The 23rd passed quietly, except for an
intermittent bombardment of our camp by
the Dutch guns and a Vickers-Maxim and
the usual patter of musketry along the
outposts.  The diamond points on the distant
hills seemed nearer and more to the east
than before, and in the afternoon Brabazon
was sent to reconnoitre towards them.  As
the Yeomanry emerged from the shelter of
the plateau the Boer Creusot gun espied
them.  Brabazon, with half a dozen officers
or orderlies, was riding fifty yards in front
of his brigade.

'See there,' said the Dutch gunners,
'there is the Hoofd Commandant himself;
take good aim.'  So they did, and from a
range of 5,000 yards burst their shell within
two yards of the General's horse.  'Wonderful,'
said Brabazon; 'why can't our forsaken
artillery shoot like that?' and he ordered
the brigade to canter by troops across the
dangerous ground.  I watched the scene
that followed from comparative safety, 600
yards nearer the Boer gun.  Troop by troop
the Yeomanry emerged from shelter.  As
each did so the men opened out to dispersed
order and began to gallop; and for every
troop there was one shell.  From where I
stood the spectacle was most interesting.
Between the shrieking of the shell
overhead and its explosion among the galloping
horsemen there was an appreciable interval,
in which one might easily have wagered
whether it would hit or miss.

The Yeomanry were very steady, and for
the most part ran the gauntlet at a nice,
dignified canter, pulling into a walk as soon
as the dangerous space was crossed.  After
all no one was hurt, except three men who
broke their crowns through their horses
falling on the rocky ground.  Indeed, I think,
speaking from some experience, that we can
always treat these Creusot 9-pounders with
contempt.  They fling a small shell an
immense distance with surprising accuracy, but
unless they actually hit someone they hardly
ever do any harm.  An ordinary bullet is
just as dangerous, though it does not make
so much noise.

At Vaal Krantz, in Natal, Dundonald's
Brigade and other troops lived quite
comfortably for three days under the fire of a
98-pounder gun, which in all that time only
killed one soldier of the Dublin Fusiliers,
two natives, and a few beasts.  The wholesale
aspect of artillery fire is not obtained
unless at least a dozen guns are firing
percussion shell or unless shrapnel can be used.
At present the Boers often cause us a great
deal of trouble with single guns, which,
though they do scarcely any material harm,
disturb every one, so that camps are shifted
and marching columns ordered to make
long *détours*; whereas we ought to shrug
our shoulders, as Ladysmith did, pay the
small necessary toll, and go our ways
uninterruptedly.  But I am being drawn into
detail and discussion, which, if I am ever to
catch up the swift march of events, must be
rigorously excluded.

The 23rd passed quietly for times of war,
and the Boer riflemen and artillerists fired
busily till dusk without doing much harm.
We wondered how much they knew of the
'increased scale' of the operations.  Did
they realise the enormous strength of the
forces closing round them?  Were they
going to be caught as Cronje was caught?  It
was hardly likely.  Yet they were certainly
holding all their positions in force at
nightfall, and meanwhile the spring of the trap
was compressed and the moment for releasing
it arrived.

The morning of the 24th was unbroken by
a single shot.  Rundle, now in touch with
Pole-Carew, swung his division to the left,
pivoting on Chermside, to whom he entrusted
the defence of the plateau.  Brabazon with
his Mounted Brigade formed the extreme
outer flank of this sweeping movement.  His
orders were to join French, who drove inward
from the north, somewhere behind Dewetsdorp
on the Modder River.  So we started,
and, with much caution and the pomp of
war, turned the enemy's left, and in solemn
silence bore down on the flank and rear of
his position.

Meanwhile, Chermside on the plateau was
struck by the entire cessation of fire from the
Boer lines opposite to him.  He sent scouts
to reconnoitre.  Single men crept up the hill,
looked into the trenches, and found--nothing.
The Boers had retreated swiftly in the night.
They enjoyed good information of all our
movements and designs, had foreseen the
impossibility of withstanding the great forces
operating against them.  They delayed us
with the appearance of strength until the last
minute.  On the night of the 22nd they sent
off their waggons towards Thabanchu.  On
the 23rd they made their effort against
Wepener, and attacked the garrison heavily,
and on the night of the 24th, having failed
at Wepener, they performed a masterly
retreat, the assailants of Wepener marching
northwards *via* Ladybrand, the covering
force at Dewetsdorp moving on Thabanchu.

And so it was that when, as directed,
Brabazon circled round the enemy's left flank
and struck the Modder River--here only a
rocky ditch with occasional pools of
mud--and when French, moving from Leeukop
round and behind their right flank, met him,
they found the Dutch already departed, and
Dewetsdorp again under the Union Jack.
The strong jaws of the rat-trap shut together
with a snap.  I saw them--black across the
open plain--two great horns of cavalry and
guns; but the rat had walked comfortably
away some hours before.  Chermside moving
over the empty trenches occupied the town.
Rundle, reaching it an hour later, owing to
his turning movement, hurried on through it
to the Modder, and laid Brabazon's dusty
squadrons on the retreating enemy.  Indeed,
the latter officer was already at the trot
towards Thabanchu when French himself
arrived--a large and magnificent staff,
'pom-poms,' horse artillery, and two
cavalry brigades--and assumed supreme command.

He immediately stopped the pursuit, sent
Brabazon back to relieve Wepener--which
place had by its plucky defence, like
Jellalabad, relieved itself--and entered
Dewetsdorp, where he remained until the next
day.

Such is the story of Dewetsdorp, which
cannot be contemplated with feelings of wild
enthusiasm.  The Wepener situation was
cleared up, and the Boers were persuaded
to retire from the right hand bottom corner
of the Free State towards Ladybrand and
Thabanchu at an exceedingly small price
in blood.  On the other hand, the enemy
might boast that 2,500 Burghers with six
guns had contained 13,000 troops with
thirty guns for a week, while their
brethren worked their wicked will on Wepener,
and had only been dislodged by the setting
in motion of more than 25,000 men and
seventy guns.

The movements which followed the
occupation of Dewetsdorp need not take long
in the telling.  French's occupation of the
town instead of pursuing the enemy was not
in accordance with the Commander-in-Chief's
ideas, and the cavalry leader was forthwith
ordered to follow the Boers at his best pace
to Thabanchu.  He started accordingly at
daylight on the 25th, and Rundle with the
Eighth Division followed at noon.  Chermside
remained at Dewetsdorp with part of
the Third Division, and was entrusted with
the re-establishment of order through the
disturbed districts.

Brabazon marched on Wepener and
collected the garrison.  Their defence of
seventeen days, under continual rifle and
shell fire, in hastily dug trenches, which
they were unable to leave even at night;
exposed to several fierce attacks; in spite
of heavy losses and with uncertain
prospects of relief, will deserve careful
attention when full accounts are published,
and is a very honourable episode in the
history of Brabant's Colonial Brigade, and
particularly in the records of the Cape
Mounted Rifles, who lost nearly a quarter
of their strength.

Bringing the defenders with him, and
having communicated with Hart and Brabant,
Brabazon returned to Dewetsdorp, and was
ordered to move thence to Thabanchu, which
he did in an exceedingly convenient hour,
as it turned out, for a certain convoy with
an escort of Scots Guards and Yeomanry.
Pole-Carew and the Eleventh Division
returned to Bloemfontein to take part in the
main advance.

The Boers made good their retreat.  They
took with them twenty-five prisoners of the
Worcester Regiment, who had blundered
into their camp before Dewetsdorp, armed
only with cooking pots, which they meant to
carry to their regiment on 'Brab's kopje,'
and great quantities of sheep and oxen.
They halted in Ladybrand, and to the north
and east of Thabanchu in a most pugnacious
mood.  Indeed, they had no reason to be
discontented with the result of their southern
incursion.

They had captured seven guns and nearly
1,000 prisoners.  They had arrested and
carried off a good many farmers who had laid
down their arms and made their peace with
the British Government.  They had
harried all who received the troops kindly,
had collected large quantities of supplies
which they had sent north, and, lastly, had
delayed the main advance by more than
five weeks.

Owing to the great disproportion of the
forces the fighting had not been of a severe
nature, and the losses were small.  In the
skirmishes before Dewetsdorp about forty
men were killed and wounded, mostly in
Brabazon's Brigade.  In the action at
Leeukop and the subsequent fighting which
attended French's march several officers and
fifty men were stricken, and a squadron of
the 9th Lancers, which was required to
attack a kopje, suffered severely, having nearly
twenty casualties, including Captain Stanley,
a very brave officer, who died of his wounds,
and Victor Brooke (of whom more will be
heard in the future) who had his left hand
smashed.  Captain Brasier-Creagh, 9th
Bengal Lancers, commanding Roberts's Horse,
was killed at Leeukop, and his many friends
along the Indian frontier will not need to be
told that by his death Lord Roberts's Army
suffered a loss appreciable even among the
great forces now in the field.





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.. _`IAN HAMILTON'S MARCH`:

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   CHAPTER VII

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   IAN HAMILTON'S MARCH

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   Winburg: May 8.

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The unsatisfactory course of the operations
in the south-eastern corner of the Free
State, and the indecisive results to which
they led, were soon to be arrested and
reversed by a series of movements of surprising
vigour and remarkable success.  Of all
the demonstrations which had been intended
against the enemy to the east of the railway,
Hamilton's advance towards the waterworks
position, being the most northerly, was to
have been the least earnestly pressed.  The
orders were: 'If you find the waterworks
weakly held, which is not likely, you may
try to occupy them, and, in the event of
success, may call up Smith-Dorrien's Brigade to
strengthen you.'

On this General Ian Hamilton, who now
commanded the imposing, but somewhat
scattered, Mounted Infantry Division, started
from Bloemfontein on the 22nd of April with
about 2,000 Light Horse, Australians, and
Mounted Infantry, and one battery of Horse
Artillery.  On the 23rd he arrived before the
waterworks, reconnoitred them, found them
weakly held, or, at any rate, thought he could
take them, attacked, and before dark made
himself master of the waterworks themselves,
and of the drift over the river which led to
the hills beyond, into which the enemy had
retired.  Smith-Dorrien's Brigade was called
up at once, arrived after dark, and the next
morning the force crossed at the drift, and
the whole position was occupied.  The
enemy offered a slight resistance, which was
attributed by some to a deep design on their
part to lure the column into a trap further to
the east, and by others to the manner in
which the attack was delivered.  The news
o the capture of this strong and important
place, which secures the Bloemfontein water
supply, was received with great satisfaction
at headquarters.

Meanwhile the operations round Dewetsdorp
came to their abortive conclusion, and
it became evident that the Boers had evaded
the intercepting columns and were making
their way northwards by Thabanchu.  What
was to be done?  Had the officer
commanding at the waterworks any suggestion
to make?  Most certainly, and the suggestion
was that he should be permitted to advance
himself and occupy Thabanchu.  This was
the answer that was expected and desired.
Permission, and with it a field battery, was
accordingly given, and, on the 25th of April,
the column moved out of the waterworks
position towards Thabanchu.  It consisted
of Ridley's Brigade of Mounted Infantry,
which included a large proportion of
colonials--Australians and New
Zealanders--Smith-Dorrien's Infantry Brigade (Gordons,
Canadians, Shropshires, and Cornwalls), with
twelve guns.

The country to the east of Bloemfontein
is at first smooth and open.  Great plains of
brownish grass stretch almost to the horizon,
broken to the eye only by occasional
scrub-covered hills.  To any one unaccustomed to
the South African veldt they appear to offer
no obstacle to the free movement of cavalry
or artillery; nor is it until one tries to ride in
a straight line across them that the treacherous
and unimagined donga and the awkward
wire fence interpose themselves.  But
beyond the Modder River, on which the
waterworks are situated, the surface of the ground
becomes rocky and hilly, and the features
increase in prominence until Thabanchu
Mountain is reached, and thereafter the
country uprears itself in a succession of
ridges to the rugged and lofty peaks of
Basutoland.

Thabanchu, a small village, as we should
regard it in England, a town of comparative
commercial importance in the Orange Free
State, and of undoubted strategic value
during this phase of the operations, stands at
the foot of the precipitous feature that bears
its name.  It is approached from the
direction of Bloemfontein by a long, broad,
flat-bottomed valley, whose walls on either side
rise higher and higher by degrees as the road
runs eastward.  The eastern end of this wide
passage is closed by a chain of rocky kopjes,
whose situation is so curious and striking that
they seem to be devised by nature to resist
the advance of an invader.  The kopjes,
rising abruptly from the flat glacis-like ground,
are a strong rampart, and the whole
position, resting on apparently secure flanks,
creates a most formidable barrier, which is
called locally Israel's Poorte.

Along the valley, on the 25th of April,
Hamilton proceeded to march with his entire
force, Ridley and the Mounted Infantry
being a considerable distance in front of the
main body.  At ten o'clock a heavy fire of
musketry and artillery was opened at an
extreme range from the hills on the left hand
side of the column.  Ignoring this, which
proved afterwards to be only a Boer
demonstration, Ridley continued his march,
and Hamilton followed, until, at a little
after eleven o'clock, both were brought to a
stand-still before the Israel's Poorte position,
which was found to be occupied by the
enemy, estimated at 800 strong, with several
guns.

After a personal reconnaissance, and in
spite of a most disquieting report that the
Boers had just been reinforced by 'two
thousand men in four lines,' the General
resolved to attack.  His plan was simple
but effective.  It resembled very closely Sir
Bindon Blood's forcing of the 'Gate of Swat'
at Landakai in 1897.  The front was to be
masked and contained by a sufficient force
of infantry and all the guns.  The rest of the
troops were to stretch out to the left and
swing to the right, the infantry along the
left hand wall of the valley, the mounted
men actually the other side of the wall.

Accordingly, the Canadian Regiment and
the Grahamstown Volunteers (Marshall's
Horse) moved forward in extended order--25
yards interval between men--to within
about 800 yards of the enemy's position, and
here, just out of the range of serious harm,
they lay down and opened a continuous
musketry fire.  Both batteries came into
action forthwith and shelled the crest line
with satisfactory energy.  Smith-Dorrien,
with the remaining three battalions of his
brigade, moved to the left, and began working
along the ridges.  Ridley, breaking out of
the valley into the more open ground beyond,
began to move against the enemy's line of
retreat.

.. _`Diagram Explaining Hamilton's Action at Israel's Poorte, the 25th of April`:

.. figure:: images/img-091.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: DIAGRAM EXPLAINING HAMILTON'S ACTION AT ISRAEL'S POORTE, THE 25TH OF APRIL.

   DIAGRAM EXPLAINING HAMILTON'S ACTION AT ISRAEL'S POORTE, THE 25TH OF APRIL.

Four hours passed, during which the
Boers indulged the hope that the frontal
attack would be pushed home, and at the end
of which they found their right flank turned
and their rear threatened.  Immediately,
with all the hurry of undisciplined troops who
feel a hand on their communications, they
evacuated the position, and, running to their
horses, galloped away.  The Canadians and
Grahamstown Volunteers thereupon arose
and occupied the line of kopjes, and thus the
door was opened and the road to Thabanchu
cleared.  Our losses in this smart action
were about twenty killed and wounded,
among whom were no less than five
officers of the Grahamstown Volunteers.  The
Dutch left five corpses on the field, and
doubtless carried away a score of wounded.

General Hamilton, pushing on, entered
Thabanchu the same night, and the British
flag was again hoisted over the town.  The
Imperialist section of the community, who
had in the interval between the evacuation
and reoccupation of the town been subjected
to much annoyance at the hands of the Boers,
were naturally shy, and afraid to make any
sign of welcome.  The southern commandos
from Dewetsdorp and Wepener had by hard
marching already passed behind Thabanchu
with their convoys.  On the 26th French
and his Cavalry, covering the march of
Rundle's (Eighth) Division, arrived, and,
since he was a lieutenant-general, took the
command out of Hamilton's hands for a time.

I had come northwards from Dewetsdorp
with the Cavalry Brigades, and was an
eyewitness of the operations round Thabanchu
which occupied the 26th and 27th.  Thabanchu
Mountain is a lofty and precipitous
feature of considerable extent, and, towards
the south, of indefinite shape.  To the north,
however, it presents a wide bay, on whose
grassy shores rising from the more arid plain
the Boer laagers were reported to stand.
The enemy held the crest of the crescent-shaped
mountain with guns and riflemen, and
in order that no one should pry behind it
they extended on their right a few
hundred trustworthy fellows, who, working in
the most scattered formation, gave to their
position an enormous front of doubtful
strength.

On the afternoon of the 26th, with a view
to further operations on the following day, a
force of Mounted Infantry, supported by
galloping Maxims and a Horse Battery, was
sent to reconnoitre, and if possible to hold the
hill, henceforward called 'Kitchener's Horse
Hill.'  The troops gained possession of the
feature without fighting, though a few Boers
were seen galloping along the ridges to the
right and left, and an intermittent musketry
fire began.  A garrison to hold the hill was
detailed, consisting of Kitchener's Horse, a
company of the Lincoln Mounted Infantry,
and two Maxim guns; but just as the sun
sank this plan was changed by the officer
commanding the force, and the whole were
ordered to retire into Thabanchu.  On the
Indian frontier it is a cardinal rule to retire
by daylight and sit still when overtaken by
night in the best position at hand.  In this
war experience has shown that it is usually
better to remain on the ground, even at a
heavy cost, until it is quite dark, and then to
retreat, if necessary.  The reason of the
difference is, that while close contact with an
Afridi armed with a four-foot knife, active as
a cat and fierce as a tiger, is to be avoided
as much as possible, no soldier asks better
than the closest contact with a
Dutchman.  But though the teaching of both
wars may seem contradictory on many
points, on one point it is in complete
agreement: twilight is the worst time of all
to retire.

The consequences of this ill-timed change
of plan were swift.  The Boers saw the
retrograde movement, and pressed boldly
forward, and Kitchener's Horse, finding
themselves closely engaged, were unable to
move.  A sharp and savage little fight
followed in the gloom.  The Boers crept
quite close to the soldiers, and one fierce
greybeard was shot through the head eight
paces from the British firing line, but not
until after he had killed his man.  The
reports which reached the town, that
Kitchener's Horse were 'cut off' on a kopje
four miles from the camp, induced General
French to send the Gordon Highlanders to
their relief.  This battalion started at about
ten o'clock, and were put on their road to
the northward.  But in the darkness and the
broken ground they lost their way, marched
five miles to the south, occupied another
hill, and did not rejoin the command until
the afternoon of the next day, an absence
which, since no inquiries could discover them,
caused much anxiety.  Kitchener's Horse
meanwhile, under Major Fowle, of the 21st
Lancers, made a plucky defence, beat off
the Boers, and managed at about eleven
o'clock to effect their retreat undisturbed.
The losses in the affair were twelve or
fourteen men killed and wounded, including
one officer, who was shot through the head.

Very early the next morning the whole
force marched out of the town, and French's
operations were this day designed to compel
the enemy to retreat from his positions
in rear of Thabanchu Mountain, and if
possible to surround some part of his force.
The information at General French's disposal
could not, however, have been very accurate,
for in my telegram of the 26th I wrote that
'more than 2,000 Boers' were collected to
the north of Thabanchu, and the Press
Censor erased this and substituted the words
'small parties.'  If this latter view had been
correct it is probable that the operations of
the following day would have been attended
by a greater measure of success.

The plan was clear and vigorous.  Gordon's
Cavalry Brigade was to move to the
right, round the east of Thabanchu
Mountain, and force their way into the plains
behind it.  It was hoped that the Lancers,
of which this brigade is entirely composed,
would find some opportunity for using their
dreaded weapon.  Hamilton was to push back
the weak Boer right, and open the way for
Dickson's Cavalry Brigade to pass through
and join hands with Gordon.  Rundle,
whose infantry were tired from their long
march from Dewetsdorp, was to demonstrate
against the Boers' centre and hold the town.

The action opened with the re-occupation
of Kitchener's Horse Hill by Smith-Dorrien's
Infantry Brigade, who advanced in determined
style, and by a sweeping movement
of Ridley's Mounted Infantry.  Both these
undertakings, which were directed by
Hamilton, prospered.  The Boer right, which was
very thin, was brushed aside, and the road
for the cavalry was opened.  At, and not
until, nine o'clock, French's leading squadrons
began to appear on the plain, and by ten
the whole of Dickson's Brigade had passed
through the gap and were safely extended in
the undulating plains beyond.

.. _`Diagram Explaining French's Operations Round Thabanchu, the 25th and 27th of April`:

.. figure:: images/img-099.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: DIAGRAM EXPLAINING FRENCH'S OPERATIONS ROUND THABANCHU, THE 26TH AND 27TH APRIL.

   DIAGRAM EXPLAINING FRENCH'S OPERATIONS ROUND THABANCHU, THE 26TH AND 27TH APRIL.

Wishing to see, for the first time, Cavalry
and Horse Artillery working in suitable
country, I rode down from my post of observation
on Kitchener's Horse Hill and trotted
and cantered until I caught up the squadrons.
It was evident that the left enveloping arm
was making good progress.  Already we
could almost look into the bay behind
Thabanchu Mountain.  If Gordon were only
getting on as well we might join hands
with him, and enclasp a goodly catch of
prisoners.  So the brigade continued to
advance from ridge to ridge, and presently
Boers began to gallop across the front to
escape, as was thought, from the net we
were drawing round them.  At all of these--the
Horse Artillery and the pom-poms--British
pom-poms at last--fired industriously.
But as the enemy kept a respectful distance
and an open formation, only a few were seen
to fall.  The others did not fly very far, but
gathered together in what soon became
considerable numbers outside the net, near
a peaked hill, which does not appear in my
sketch, but which the reader may bear in
mind as lying to the left rear of the turning
Cavalry.

At last Dickson's advance reached a point
between Thabanchu Mountain and the
peaked hill, so that no more Boers could
escape by that road; and we saw the others,
three or four hundred in number, riding
about, up and down, or round and round in
the bay, like newly-caught rats in a cage.

At this everyone became very excited.
'Gordon must have headed them back,' it
was said.  'Only a few more men and we
might make a bag.'  Where could men
be found?  Somebody suggested asking
Hamilton.  The helio twinkled: 'Come and
help us make a bag,' it said, in somewhat
more formal language.  And Hamilton
came forthwith, leaving positions which were
of much value; collecting every man he
could lay his hands on--weary mounted
Infantry, a tired-out battery, and all of
Smith-Dorrien's Brigade that could march fast
at the end of a long day--he hurried to seize
and line the northern spurs of Thabanchu
Mountain, prepared to risk much to strike
a heavy blow.

The movement of Infantry and guns to
support him encouraged Dickson to press
still further forward, and the whole brigade
advanced nearly another mile.  At length
we overtopped a smooth ridge, and found
ourselves looking right into the bay or
horseshoe of mountains.  Now at last we
must see Gordon.  'There he is,' cried
several voices, and looking in the direction
shown I saw a majestic body of horse streaming
out of the centre of the bay towards the
north-west.  But was it Gordon?  At least
4,000 mounted men were riding across our
front, hardly two miles away.  Surely no
brigade was so numerous.  Yet such was
the precision of the array that I could not
believe them Boers.

Boers their numbers, however, proved
them to be; and not their numbers alone,
for before we had watched this striking
spectacle long, two large puffs of smoke
leapt from the tail of the hostile column, and
two well-aimed shells burst near our Horse
Battery.  At the same time patrols from
the left rear hurried in with the news that
the Boers who had already escaped from our
imagined 'trap' were advancing in force,
with two more guns, to cut us from the rest
of the army.

As for Gordon, there was no longer any
doubt about his fortunes.  Far away to the
eastward the horseshoe wall of mountains
dipped to a pass, and on the sides of this
gateway little puffs of smoke, dirty brown
against the darkening sky, showed that
Gordon was still knocking with his Artillery
at the door, and had never been able to
debouch in the plains behind it.  Moreover,
the dangerous hour of twilight was not long
distant.  Dickson determined to retreat while
time remained, and did so without any
unnecessary delay.  Whereat the Boers came
down on our rear and flank, opening furious
fire at long range, and galloping eagerly
forward, so that the brigade and its guns, so
far from entrapping the enemy, were all
but entrapped themselves; indeed, the
brigadier's mess cart, the regimental water
carts, and several other little things, which,
being able only to trot, could not 'conform
to the general movement,' were snapped up
by the hungry enemy, who now pressed on
exulting.

Meanwhile Hamilton had taken some risks
in order to promote the expected entrapping.
He had now to think of himself.  First, the
Boer advance must be stopped, and, secondly,
the force which had, in the hopes of grasping
the Boers, let go its hold on Kitchener's
Horse Hill, must be withdrawn within the
Thabanchu picket line.  The General,
however, was equal to both requirements.
Judiciously arranging some force of Infantry and
guns, he peppered the advancing Boers
heavily, so that at 800 yards they wheeled about
and scurried to the shelter of adjacent kopjes.
This advantage restored the situation.
Hamilton remained on the ground till dark, and
then, with the whole of Ridley's and
Smith-Dorrien's commands, returned safely into
Thabanchu.

During the day rifle and artillery fire had
been constant; but as the fighting had been
conducted at extreme ranges, which neither
side showed much anxiety to diminish, the
slaughter was small.  Indeed, I do not think
that a dozen men were stricken in either
army.  So far as the British were concerned,
the result of the day's operations was a
qualified success.

The Boers were evidently prepared to
retreat from Thabanchu, but they proposed to
do so in their own time and at their most
excellent discretion, and it was quite evident
that we had not succeeded in any way in
hindering or preventing them.  It was also
clear that, far from being 'in small parties,'
their strength was nearly 6,000, so that on
the whole we might congratulate ourselves
on having moved in ignorance and taken no
great hurt,  The only point about the action
difficult to understand was the behaviour of
the Boers who had ridden about like caged
rats.  Why should they do so when they
knew that their line of retreat to the
north-east was perfectly secure?  I can only
conclude that this particular commando had
arranged to retire northwards towards the
peaked hill, and were annoyed at being
prevented from joining their comrades at the
point where their waggons, and, consequently,
their dinners, were awaiting them.

On the evening of this instructive, but
unsatisfactory, day, Hamilton received orders
from Lord Roberts to march north on
Winburg in conformity with the general advance
of the army.  For this purpose his force was
to be largely increased, and the operations
which followed require the space of another
letter.  French remained for some days at
Thabanchu, but attempted no further serious
operations against the enemy.

Only one other incident of interest
occurred in the neighbourhood of Thabanchu.
After his relief of Wepener, Brabazon was
ordered thither *via* Dewetsdorp.  On the
28th, dusty and tired at the end of a long
march, he arrived with his Yeomanry at the
foot of a pass among the hills.  A Kaffir
lounged into the bivouac and asked the
General whether he would like to see some
pretty shelling, for that there was a fine
show at the top of the valley.  Brabazon,
much interested, mounted his horse forthwith,
and, guided by the Kaffir through devious
paths, reached a point which afforded an
extensive view.

There, in the twilight, lay a British
convoy, stoutly defended by a company of the
kiddies and a few Yeomanry, and shelled--as
the Kaffir had said--with great precision
by two Boer guns.  The General thereupon
gave the Kaffir a 'fiver' to carry a letter
through the Boer lines to the commander of
the convoy, telling that officer to hold out
manfully, and promising that with the dawn
Brabazon and the Imperial Yeomanry would
come to his aid.

The Kaffir succeeded in his mission.  The
convoy was encouraged, and, good as his
word, with the daylight came the General, at
whose approach the Boers fled incontinently,
so that Brabazon, the Yeomanry, and the
convoy came in safety and triumph into
Thabanchu together.





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.. _`IAN HAMILTON`:

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   CHAPTER VIII

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   IAN HAMILTON

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   London: August 10, 1900.

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Ian Standish Monteith Hamilton was
born at Corfu in 1853.  His father, the late
Colonel Christian Monteith Hamilton--then
a captain, but who eventually commanded
the 92nd Highlanders--was the eldest son
of John George Hamilton and of Christina
Cameron Monteith, daughter of Henry
Monteith of Carstairs, sometime Member
of Parliament for Lanarkshire.  His mother,
the late Maria Corunia Vereker, was
daughter of John, third Viscount Gort, by Maria
O'Grady, daughter of Viscount Guillamore.[#]
The Hamilton family is one of the elder
branches of the Scottish Hamiltons, and
represents the male line of the Hamiltons
of Westport.  One of his ancestors on his
father's side, a Colonel Hamilton, was for
several years an aide-de-camp of the first
Duke of Marlborough, and it was therefore
something in the nature of a coincidence
when Ian Hamilton found the present Duke
of Marlborough serving in a similar capacity
on his staff.  It would not be quite correct
to call him a pure Celt, but some notice
should be taken by those interested in these
questions that his blood is mostly Celtic:
both of his grandmothers, Monteith and
O'Grady, being of Celtic stock, Scottish and
Irish respectively.

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   [#] *Vide* Peerage, Gort and Guillamore.

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When Ian Hamilton was born his father
was serving with a detachment of the 92nd
Highlanders at Corfu.  His mother died in
1856, and for the next ten years, the father
being constantly on duty with the regiment,
he and his younger brother, Vereker
Hamilton, who was born in 1856, lived with their
grandparents at Hapton, in the Holy Loch
in Argyllshire.  Such a childhood on moor
and loch in a fine wild country was likely to
develop and brace nerve and muscle, and
stir the keen blood inherited from many
generations of warlike ancestors.  He was
educated first at Cheam, and as he grew
sufficiently old at Wellington College.  Here
he was very happy, and although he was not
especially noted for industry, his success in
the examinations at the end of each term
excused any neglect in its course.  In 1872
he passed the tests for the army, and,
according to the system at that time in force, was
offered the choice of going to Sandhurst or
living for a year abroad to learn a foreign
language thoroughly.  The cadet chose the
latter, and was sent to Germany.  Here he
had the good luck to make the close
friendship of a most distinguished old man.
General Dammers was a Hanoverian who had
fought against the Prussians at Langesalze,
and who, refusing a very high command
under the Prussians, lived at Dresden.
Although he himself remained aide-de-camp
to the ex-King of Hanover, he became
the centre of a group of Hanoverian
officers who had entered the Saxon service.
He was thus in touch with the latest school
of military thought, stimulated to its utmost
activity by the lessons of the great war
which had lately been concluded.  From
General Dammers, Ian Hamilton learned
the German language, military surveying,
something of military history, and something
doubtless of strategy and the art of war.
The year thus passed very profitably.  On
his return to England, however, the War
Office announced that they had changed
their minds and that for the future
everybody must go through Sandhurst.  Such
protests as his father, himself an officer, was
entitled to make were overruled by the
authorities, and Ian Hamilton embarked
upon his military career having lost, through
no fault of his own, one year of seniority--a
year which Fortune had perhaps even then
determined to restore to him manifold.

In 1873 he entered the 12th Foot, and
after some months joined his father's old
regiment, the 92nd.  At first with the 92nd,
and after 1881 with the 2nd battalion of the
regiment, the Gordon Highlanders, Ian
Hamilton followed the drum from garrison
to garrison, going through the military
routine, and plodding slowly up the first few
steps of the long ladder of promotion.
From the very first he interested himself in
musketry.  He became himself a keen and
good rifle shot, and not with the military
rifle alone.  He spent a long leave in
Kashmir on the fringe of the snows, and made a
remarkable bag.  Indeed, some of his heads
attained nearly to the record dimensions,
and one big single-horned markhor enjoyed
the actual supremacy for several months.

Then came the Afghan war.  Ian Hamilton,
although only an infantry soldier,
became aide-de-camp, with Brabazon as
Brigade Major, to the unfortunate commander
of the British Cavalry Brigade.  Early in
the campaign he was stricken down with
fever, and so avoided being drawn into the
controversy which raged for several years in
military circles around the actions in the
Chardeh valley.  It would indeed have been
unfortunate if at this early stage in his
career he had been led into any antagonism
to the great General with whom his fortunes
were afterwards so closely associated.

The Boer war of 1881 found Hamilton
still a subaltern.  He was ordered to South
Africa with his regiment, and went full of
eager anticipation.  The regiment, composed
almost entirely of soldiers inured to the
hardships and disdainful of the dangers of
war, was in the most perfect condition to
encounter the enemy, and, as is usual in
British expeditions on the outward voyage,
they despised him most thoroughly.  It was
not to be dreamed of that a parcel of ragged
Boers should stand against the famous
soldiers of Kabul and Kandahar.  They
discussed beforehand the clasps which would
be given upon the medal for the campaign.
They were to be Laing's Nek, Relief of
Potchefstroom, and Pretoria 1881.  No one
had then ever heard the name of Majuba
Mountain.  Yet there was to be the first
encounter between Highlanders and Dutchmen.

The dismal story of Majuba is better
known than its importance deserves.  Had
that action been fought in this war it would
perhaps have gone down to history as the
affair of the 27th of February.  Instead, it
was accepted as a stricken field, and might,
such was the significance that was attached
to it, have changed the history of nations.
It needs no repetition here save in so far as
it is concerned with Ian Hamilton.  Majuba
Mountain may in general terms be described
as a saucer-topped hill.  Sir George Colley
and his six hundred soldiers, picked from
various units (that all might share the glory),
sat themselves down to rest and sleep, and
dig a well in the bottom of the saucer.  One
weak picket of Gordon Highlanders was
thrust forward over the rim on to the outer
slope of the hill to keep an eye on those
silent grey patches which marked the Boer
laagers far below.  Hamilton was the
subaltern in command.  As the day gradually
broke and the light grew stronger, he saw
from the very lifting of the curtain the
course of the tragedy.  Boers awoke,
bustled about their encampments; looked up
just as Symons' Brigade looked up on the
morning of Talana Hill, and saw the sky-line
fringes with men.  More bustle, long delay,
much argument and hesitation below, a little
boasting rifle fire from some of the British
soldiers: 'Ha, ha! got you this time I
think!'--and then, straggle of horsemen
riding in tens and twenties towards the foot
of the mountain.  Hamilton reported
accordingly.  The action of Majuba Hill had
begun.  Pause.

There was--so it has been described to
me--a long donga that led up the steep
slope.  Into the lower end of this the Boer
horsemen disappeared.  Hamilton moved his
score of men a little to their right, where
they might command this zig-zag approach as
much as the broken ground would allow, and
reported again to the General or whoever
was directing affairs--for Colley, wearied with
the tremendous exertion of the night climb,
was sleeping--'Enemy advancing to attack.'  He
also made a few stone shelters.  Pause
again.  Suddenly, quite close, darting
forward here and there among the rocks and
bushes of the donga--Boers!  Fire on them,
then.  The Gordons' rifles spluttered
accordingly, and back came the answer hot and
sharp--a close and accurate musketry fire
pinning the little party of Regulars to the
earth behind their flimsy shelters.  No one
could show his head to fire.  Soldiers would
hold a helmet up above the sheltering stone
and bring it down with two and three bullets
through it.  Could half a company fight a
battle by itself?  What were others doing?
Hamilton felt bound to send another report.
He left the half company in charge of the
sergeant, got up, ran up the slope, and
dropped into safety the other side of the
saucer-shaped rim.  The distance was scarcely
forty yards, yet two bullets passed through
his kilt in crossing it.  Where was the
General?  A staff officer, ignorant and
therefore undisturbed, said that the General was
sleeping.  'He knew,' said the staff officer,
'what was going on.  No need for a
subaltern of Highlanders to concern
himself.'  Hamilton returned, running the gauntlet
again, to his men.  The fire grew hotter.
The Boers began to creep gradually nearer.
Their front attack widened and drew around
the contours of the hill.  Were all the
force asleep?  One more warning at any
rate they should have.  Again he darted
across the open space with the swish of
bullets around him.  Again he found the
staff.  But this time they were annoyed.  It
is such a bore when young officers are jumpy
and alarmist.  'It's all right,' they said: and
so it was within the saucer.  The bullets
piped overhead as the wind howls outside
the well-warmed house.  But a sudden
change impended.

Hamilton rejoined his men just as the
Boers attacked at all points.  The little
picket of Highlanders, utterly unable to
withstand the weight of the enemy's
advance, ran back to the rim of the saucer
intermingled with the Boers, who fired their
rifles furiously at them, even putting the
muzzles to the men's heads and so
destroying them.  In Sir William Butler's book,
written almost entirely with the view of
exonerating Sir George Colley, it is
suggested that his advanced picket fell back in
a panic.  The truth is that they were swept
backward by overwhelming force after they
had three times reported to the General the
development of a heavy attack.  Of the
seventeen men under Ian Hamilton in this
advanced position twelve were shot dead.

The survivors of the picket with the
pursuing Boers reached the rim together, and
became visible to the main force.
Astounded by this apparition, the troops who
were lying down in the saucer rose up
together, and, some accoutred, some with their
coats off, Highlanders, sailors, and linesmen,
ran forward and fired a ragged volley.  The
Boers immediately lay down and replied,
causing heavy loss.  A furious musketry
fight followed between the Dutch in cover
along the rim and the British among the
rocks across the centre of the saucer.  This
was ended by the appearance of other Boers
on the high ground at the northern end of
the plateau.  Without orders or order,
exposed to a terrible fire, ignorant of what was
required of them, the soldiers wavered.
One last chance presented itself.  Hamilton
rushed up to the General in the impetuosity
of youth: 'I hope you'll forgive my
presumption, sir, but will you let the Gordon
Highlanders charge with the bayonet?'

'No presumption, young gentleman,'
replied Colley, with freezing calmness.  'We'll
let them charge us, and then we'll give them
a volley and a charge.'

On the word the whole scene broke into
splinters.  The British troops abandoned
their positions and fled from the ground.  The
Boers, standing up along the rim, shot them
down mercilessly--sporting rifles, crack shots,
eighty yards' range.  Hamilton saw a figure
scarcely ten yards away aiming at him, raised
the rifle he found himself somehow possessed
of to reply.  Both fired simultaneously.  The
British officer went down with his wrist
smashed to pieces.  He rose again: the rear
crest was near.  The last of the fugitives
were streaming over it.  One dash for liberty!
The fire was murderous.  Before the distance
was covered his tunic was cut by one bullet,
his knee by another, and finally a splinter of
rock striking him behind the head brought
him down half stunned to the ground--luckily
behind the shelter of a small rock.

The firing stopped.  The Boers began
to occupy the position.  Two discovered the
wounded man.  The younger, being much
excited, would have shot him.  The elder
restrained him.  'Are you officer, you
damned Englishman?' said they.

'Yes.'

'Give your sword.'

Now Hamilton's sword had belonged to
his father before him.  He replied by offering
them money instead.

'Money!' they cried; 'give it up at once,'
and were about to snatch it away when a
person of authority--it is said Joubert
himself--arrived.  'Voorwarts,' he said to the
burghers, and in spite of their desire to
plunder he drove them on.  Hamilton
thanked him.  'This is a bad day for us.'

'What can you expect,' was the answer
characteristic of the Boer--the privileged of
God--'from fighting on a Sunday?'

.. vspace:: 2

Then they collected the prisoners and
helped Hamilton to walk back to the British
position.  Colley lay dead on the ground.  The
Boers would not believe it was the General.
'Englishmen are such liars.'  Hector
Macdonald--grim and sad--hero of the Afghan
war, now a prisoner in the enemy's hand,
watched the proceedings sullenly.  The Boers
picked out the surrendered prisoners.  They
looked at Hamilton.  He was covered with
blood from head to foot They said: 'You
will probably die.  You may go.'  So he
went; staggered, and crawled back to camp,
arrived there delirious the next morning.
The wrist joint is composed of eight separate
bones.  The bullet, breaking through, had
disarranged them sadly, had even carried
one or two away.  If he had consented to
amputation he would soon have been
convalescent.  But a soldier must preserve all
he can.  What with fever and shock he
nearly died.  For six months he was an
invalid.  But the hand was saved, so that
now the General can hold an envelope
between his paralysed and withered fingers,
and sometimes hold a cigarette.  For all
other purposes it is useless, and when he
rides it flaps about helplessly--a glorious deformity.

After some months of doubt as to
whether he should leave the army and throw
himself entirely into the literary pursuits
which had always possessed for him a keen
attraction, Hamilton decided to remain a
soldier.

He next saw service in the Soudan: he
was not intended to make this campaign,
for the battalion to which he belonged was
serving in India, and there has always been
much jealousy between the Indian and the
Egyptian British officer.  But he happened
to be coming home on leave, and when the
steamer reached Suez it occurred to him to
ask himself why he should not go up the
Nile with the columns which were being
formed.  He got out of the ship accordingly
and ran across the sands to the train
which was standing in the station.  Had he
not caught it he would have returned to the
ship.  But he was in time.  Next day he
arrived in Cairo, and while waiting there for
his luggage he applied for employment.  It
was refused, officers were not allowed to
volunteer.  The Gordon Highlanders, his only
hope, had their full complement of officers.
They had no vacancy for him.  Hamilton
did not, however, give up his idea easily.
He resolved to travel as far as Wady Halfa
and renew his application there.  He
journeyed south with Colonel Burnaby, and
after a week of train and river-boat arrived
at the whitewashed mud huts in the midst
of a vast circle of sand which marked the
base of the British Expeditionary forces,
both desert and river columns.

What followed has happened so often that
it is well worth the attention of young
officers.  Be it always remembered that the
regulations of the army are formed to make
all people quite alike one uniform pattern
and on one level of intelligence--not yet
the highest.  You do not rise by the
regulations, but in spite of them.  Therefore in
all matters of active service the subaltern
must never take 'No' for an answer.  He
should get to the front at all costs.  For
every fifty men who will express a desire to
go on service in the mess or the club, and
will grumble if they are not selected, there
is only about one who really means business
and will take the trouble and run the risk of
going to the front on the chance.  The
competition is much less keen when you get
there.  I know something of this myself,
and am convinced of its truth.

The subaltern really stands on velvet in
the matter.  If he succeeds all is well.  If
he gets rebuked and ordered down, he must
try again.  What can the authorities do?
They cannot very well shoot him.  At the
worst they can send him back to his
regiment, stop his leave for six months, and some
choleric old martinet who was a young man
once, though he had half forgotten it, will
write in some ponderous book in Pall Mall
against the offender's name: 'Keen as
mustard--takes his own line--to be noted for
active service if otherwise qualified.'

Of course everyone was delighted to see
Hamilton at Wady Halfa.  They appointed
him to a vacancy which had meanwhile
occurred in the Gordon Highlanders, and gave
him a company and a boat in the River
Column.  Through all the hard campaign that
followed he served with credit.  The
fortunes of the troops who worked their way
up the Nile have not been so closely studied
as those of the columns which plunged into
the desert and fought at Abu Klea and Abu
Kru.  But it was nevertheless one of the
most picturesque enterprises of our military
history.  The broad boats toiling forward
against the current of the river, making
perhaps three miles a day, obstructed by
frequent cataracts and menaced continually by
the enemy, the scouts on the banks, the lines
of men on the tow ropes, the red sand of
the desert, the hot steel sky, and the fierce
sunlight slanting in between rocks of the
Nile gorge, are materials from which a
fascinating sketch might be painted.  Hamilton's
boat became somehow the head of the rear
column.  At length there came a day when
they told of expected opposition, dervish
encampments, and a certain rocky ridge said
to be lined with riflemen.  The leading
column of boats was hurried forward.  By some
mischance Hamilton's boat became the rear
boat of the leading column.  At any rate,
his company alone of the Gordon
Highlanders fought in the action of Kirbeckan next
day.  Nothing succeeds like success.
Hamilton received the Distinguished Service
Order for his services.

After the Nile Expedition of 1885 had
reached its sad conclusion, Hamilton
returned to India and became an aide-de-camp
on the staff of Lord Roberts, who was then
commanding the Madras army.  The
question of musketry training for Infantry was
at that time much discussed, and Lord
Roberts was determined to do something to
improve the shooting of the British army.  In
his book 'Forty-one Years in India' he tells
us how he and his staff formed themselves
into a team and had many exciting rifle
matches with the regiments in the Madras
command.  In all this Hamilton's skill with
the rifle and the keen interest he had always
shown for musketry--his first regimental
appointment had been to be Musketry
Instructor--stood him in good stead, and
when Lord Roberts became Commander-in-Chief
in India his aide-de-camp, who had
meanwhile served in the Burmah campaign,
was made Assistant Adjutant-General for
Musketry.

In 1886 he married Jean, daughter of
Sir John Muir, Baronet, of Deanston,
Perthshire.  He had now determined to
persevere in the military profession, and
devoted himself to it with great assiduity.
His literary talents were turned to military
subjects.  He published a book on
musketry in the army entitled 'The Fighting of
the Future.'  It was strong and well
written.  The introduction of the magazine rifle
has modified many of his conclusions, but at
the time the book attracted a great deal of
attention.  He found time, however, to
write on other things, and there are still
extant from his pen: 'A Jaunt in a Junk,' an
account of a cruise which he made with his
brother down the west coast of India; a
volume of verses, 'The Ballad of Hadji and
the Boar'; and one or two other writings.
He preserved and extended his acquaintance
with literary men, particularly with
Andrew Lang, whom he powerfully
impressed, and who inscribed a volume of
poems to him in the following compulsive lines:

   |   *TO COLONEL IAN HAMILTON*
   |
   |   To you, who know the face of war,
   |   You, that for England wander far,
   |   You that have seen the Ghazis fly
   |   From English lads not sworn to die,
   |   You that have lain where, deadly chill,
   |   The mist crept o'er the Shameful Hill,
   |   You that have conquered, mile by mile,
   |   The currents of unfriendly Nile,
   |   And cheered the march, and eased the strain
   |   When Politics made valour vain,
   |   Ian, to you, from banks of Ken,
   |   We send our lays of Englishmen!
   |

After doing much useful work in the
Musketry Department he became one of
the Assistant Quartermaster-Generals in
India.  From this office he managed to
sally forth to the Chitral Expedition, for his
services in which on the lines of communication
he was made Commander of the
Bath.  He next became Deputy
Quartermaster-General, and it was evident that if he
chose to continue to serve in India he
would ultimately become the head of the
Department.  In 1897 the Great Frontier
War broke out.  Hamilton was appointed
to command one of the brigades of the
Tirah Expeditionary Force.  He was at the
time on leave in England.  He returned at
speed, assumed command, and led his
brigade through the Kohat Pass in the first
movement of the general advance.  It
looked as if his chance in life had come.
He had a magnificent force under him.
He enjoyed the confidence of the
General-in-chief, Sir William Lockhart, and only a
few miles away the enemy awaited the
advancing army on the heights of Dargai.
The next morning his horse shied suddenly.
He was thrown to the ground and broke his
leg.  They carried the brigadier away in a
doolie, his brigade passed to another, and
the campaign in Tirah was fought without him.

Ian Hamilton took this bitter disappointment
with philosophical composure.  'Perhaps,'
he said to me one day in Calcutta, 'I
should have lost my reputation had I held
my command.'  But it was easy to see how
much he felt the lost opportunity and the
enforced inaction.  At length his leg was
mended--after a fashion.  He persuaded a
medical board to pass him as sound.  The
campaign continued.  There was, however,
no vacancy at the front.  For several weeks
he waited.  Presently Sir Bindon Blood--who
was preparing for his invasion of Buner,
and who knew Hamilton well--applied for
him to command his lines of communication.
Obstacles were, however, raised by
the Indian War Office, and the proposal fell
through.  At last, in February, when it
seemed certain that a spring campaign must
be undertaken against the Afridis, Sir
William Lockhart decided to replace General
Kempster by some other brigadier, and Ian
Hamilton was again sent to the front.  The
hopes or fears of a further campaign proved
unfounded.  The Afridis gradually paid
their toll of rifles, and their jirgahs made
submission.  The fighting was practically
over.  Yet in much skirmishing as occurred
while Hamilton's brigade were holding the
advanced posts in the Bara valley his care
and eagerness attracted attention, and, small
as was his share in the campaign, Sir
William Lockhart gave him an honourable
mention in the despatches.

On the restoration of order along the
North-West Frontier Hamilton was offered
the temporary position of Quartermaster-General
in India.  Anxious, however, for
home employment, and fully alive to the
importance of not becoming too closely
identified with any particular military set, he
declined this important office and proceeded
to England on a year's leave.  After some
delay he was appointed commandant of the
School of Musketry at Hythe, and from this
post he was twice withdrawn to command
brigades at the Manoeuvres.  When Sir
George White was sent to Natal in
September 1899 Hamilton accompanied him as
Assistant Adjutant-General.  The War
Office are therefore entitled to plume
themselves upon his successes, for he is one of
the few men originally appointed who have
increased their reputation.

Ian Hamilton's part in the Boer war is
so well known that it will be unnecessary to
do more than refer to it here.  He displayed
a curious facility for handling troops in close
contact with the enemy, and practically from
the beginning of the fighting he held the
command of a brigade.  It was Hamilton whose
influence went so far to counteract the
astounding optimism of the gallant Penn
Symons.  It was Hamilton who was to have led
the bayonet attack by night on the Boer
laagers two days before Talana Hill was fought.
It was Hamilton to whom French entrusted
the entire disposition of the Infantry and
Artillery at Elandslaagte, who arranged the
attack, rallied the struggling line, and who
led the final charge upon the Boer entrenchment.
Again after Lombard's Kop, when the
army reeled back in disorder into Ladysmith,
it was Hamilton's brigade which, judiciously
posted, checked the onset of the victorious
enemy.  During the defence of Ladysmith
Hamilton's section of the defence included
Cæsar's Camp and Wagon Hill.  He has
been censured in the Press for not having
fortified these positions on their outer crests,
and it was said in the army after the 6th of
January that this neglect caused unnecessary
loss of life.  How far this criticism may be
just I do not now propose to examine.  The
arguments against entrenching the outer
crest were that heavy works there would
draw the enemy's artillery fire, and that the
Imperial Light Horse, who were to have
defended this section, said they preferred to
avail themselves of the natural cover of rocks
and stones.  The reader would be well
advised to defer judgment until some serious
and historical work on the campaign in Natal
is published.  At present all accounts are
based on partial and imperfect evidence, nor
do I think that the whole true account of a
single action has yet been written.

Whatever the rights of this question may
be, it is certain that on the 6th of January Ian
Hamilton, by his personal gallantry and
military conduct, restored the situation on Wagon
Hill.  Indeed, the Homeric contest, when
the British General and Commandant Prinsloo
of the Free State fired at each other at five
yards' range, the fierce and bloody struggle
around the embrasure of the naval gun, and
the victorious charge of the Devons, may
afterwards be found to be the most striking
scene in the whole war.

After the relief of Ladysmith, Roberts,
who knew where to find the men he wanted,
sent for Hamilton, much to the disgust of
Sir Redvers Buller, who proposed to keep
this good officer for the command of one of
his own brigades.  On reaching Bloemfontein
he was entrusted with the organisation
of the Mounted Infantry division, a post from
which he could conveniently be drawn for
any service that might be required.  Of the
rest some account will be found in these
letters.

Ian Hamilton is, as the fine portrait by
Sargent, reproduced as the frontispiece of
this book, shows him, a man of rather
more than middle height, spare, keen eyed,
and of commanding aspect.  His highly
nervous temperament animating what
appears a frail body imparts to all his
movements a kind of feverish energy.  Two
qualities of his mind stand forward
prominently from the rest.  He is a singularly
good and rapid judge of character.  He
takes a very independent view on all
subjects, sometimes with a slight bias
towards or affection for their radical and
democratic aspects, but never or hardly
ever influenced by the set of people with
whom he lives.  To his strong personal
charm as a companion, to his temper never
ruffled or vexed either by internal irritation
or the stir and contrariness of events, his
friends and those who have served under
him will bear witness.  He has a most
happy gift of expression, a fine taste in words,
and an acute perception of the curious
which he has preserved from his literary
days.  But it is as a whole that we should
judge.  His mind is built upon a big scale,
being broad and strong, capable of thinking
in army corps and if necessary in continents,
and working always with serene smoothness
undisturbed alike by responsibility or
danger.  Add to all this a long experience in
war, high military renown both for courage
and conduct, the entire confidence and
affection of the future Commander-in-Chief, the
luck that has carried him through so many
dangers, and the crowning advantage of
being comparatively young, and it is evident
that here is a man who in the years that are
to come will have much to do with the
administration of the British Army in times
of peace and its direction in the field.





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.. _`THE ACTION OF HOUTNEK`:

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   CHAPTER IX

.. class:: center medium

   THE ACTION OF HOUTNEK

.. vspace:: 2

.. class:: center small

   Winburg: May 8

.. vspace:: 2

Ian Hamilton's orders were to march
north from Thabanchu on Winburg by the
Jacobsrust road, and he was expected, if no
opposition was encountered, to reach his
destination by the 7th of May.  The column
with which he started from Thabanchu was
composed of Smith-Dorrien's 19th Infantry
Brigade, Ridley's Mounted Infantry Brigade,
and two batteries of artillery; but at
Jacobsrust he would receive a strong reinforcement,
consisting of Bruce-Hamilton's 21st Brigade
of Infantry, Broadwood's Cavalry Brigade,
two batteries of field and one of horse
artillery, and two 5-in. guns.  This accession
would raise his force to a total of 7,500
Infantry, 4,000 mounted men, and thirty-two
guns--an imposing command for an officer
who had not yet had time to take the
badges of a colonel off his shoulders.  The
first thing, however, was to reach
Jacobsrust, and effect the junction with
Bruce-Hamilton's force.

The Thabanchu column started at
daybreak on the 30th of April, and when it was
within three or four miles of Houtnek Poorte
the enemy suddenly unmasked field guns and
'pom-poms,' and opened a long range fire
with them from the east on the right flank
of the marching troops.  Colonel Bainbridge,
with the 7th Corps of Mounted Infantry,
wheeled up to contain this force of the
enemy, and at the same time De Lisle--of
polo fame--pushed forward boldly at a
gallop with the 6th Corps and the New
Zealanders, and seized a commanding position
about 2,000 yards south of the actual nek.
Colonel Legge, meanwhile advancing on the
left front, noticed that Thoba Mountain was
weakly held by the enemy, and thereupon
ordered Kitchener's Horse to attack it, thus
anticipating the order which the General was
himself about to send.  These dispositions,
which were made on their own initiative by
the various Mounted Infantry officers,
enabled a deliberate view of the situation to be
taken.

The pass of Houtnek consists of two
parallel grassy ridges separated by a smooth
shallow valley a little more than a mile
across, and devoid of cover.  On the east
the pass runs up into sharp rocky kopjes,
strengthened by successive lines of stone
walls trailing away towards the main laagers
of the enemy.  Both the centre and the left
flank of the Boer position refused all
opportunity of attack.  The Dutch right was
scarcely more encouraging.  On the west of
the pass rose the great mountain of Thoba,
an uneven battlefield, better suited to Boers
than to British troops.  Yet as it was on
Hamilton's safer flank, dominated the rest of
the enemy's position, could be turned by
mounted troops making a very wide detour,
and being, moreover, the only way, the
General resolved to attack it.

.. _`Diagram Explaining the Action of Houtnek`:

.. figure:: images/img-140.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: Diagram Explaining the Action of Houtnek]

   Diagram Explaining the Action of Houtnek

At 9.30 the Infantry began to come up,
and at ten o'clock the approaches to the
Boer position were strongly occupied.  As
soon as Kitchener's Horse were seen to have
made good their footing on Thoba Mountain,
Hamilton ordered General Smith-Dorrien
to support them with part of his brigade,
which was accordingly done, two companies
of the Shropshires, the Gordon Highlanders,
and four companies of the Canadians being
successively worked up on to the hill under
a heavy shell fire from the enemy.  This
practically disposed of the whole force,
which was soon engaged all along the line,
the Mounted Infantry holding the enemy
off the right and right rear, the Cornwalls
guarding the baggage, one-half Smith-Dorrien's
Brigade containing the front, and the
other half with Kitchener's Horse pushing
the flank attack on Thoba Mountain.  As
soon as the Boers understood the designs of
the British on Thoba they made a strong
effort to regain and hold that important
feature.  At first the troops made good
progress; but as the enemy received continual
reinforcements the resistance became more
severe, until, presently, far from gaining
ground, they began to lose it.  At last, about
two o'clock, some one hundred and fifty of
the German corps of the Boer force advanced
from the northern point of Thoba in four
lines across the table top to drive the British
off the hill.  So regular was their order that
it was not until their levelled rifles were seen
pointing south that they were recognised as
foes, and artillery opened on them.  In spite
of an accurate shell fire they continued to
advance boldly against the highest part of the
hill, and, meanwhile, cloaked by a swell of
the ground, Captain Towse, of the Gordon
Highlanders, with twelve men of his own
regiment and ten of Kitchener's Horse, was
steadily moving towards them.  The scene
on the broad stage of the Thoba plateau was
intensely dramatic.  The whole army were
the witnesses.

The two forces, strangely disproportioned,
drew near to each other.  Neither was
visible to the other.  The unexpected collision
impended.  From every point field glasses
were turned on the spectacle, and even
hardened soldiers held their breath.  At last,
with suddenness, both parties came face to
face at fifty yards' distance.  The Germans,
who had already made six prisoners, called
loudly on Captain Towse and his little band
to surrender.  What verbal answer was
returned is not recorded; but a furious
splutter of musketry broke out at once, and in
less than a minute the long lines of the
enemy recoiled in confusion, and the top of the
hill was secured to the British.  Among the
foreigners wounded in this encounter, was
Colonel Maximoff.

Captain Towse, for his conspicuous
gallantry, and for the extraordinary results
which attended it, has been awarded the
Victoria Cross; but, in gaining what is above
all things precious to a soldier, he lost what
is necessary to a happy life, for in the
moment when his military career was assured
by a brilliant feat of arms, it was terminated
by a bullet which, striking him sideways,
blinded him in both eyes.  Thus do Misery
and Joy walk hand in hand on the field of war.

All this time the rifle and gun fire along
the whole front had been continuous, and as
the day wore on without the British making
good their hold on Thoba Mountain the
enemy gathered in a more and more
threatening attitude on the right of the
column, and by four o'clock at least 1,500
men were collected, with guns and
'pom-poms,' which threw shell into the rear
guard and transport.  Hamilton, however,
was determined to fight the matter out.  He
therefore directed that all troops should post
guards on their front, lie down wherever
darkness found them, and prepare to renew
the action at daybreak.  He then
telegraphed to General French for some
assistance, the need of more mounted troops
being painfully felt.

At dawn on May-day fighting recommenced,
and soon after six o'clock parties of
the Gordons and Canadians succeeded in
gaining possession of the two peaks of
Thoba Mountain.  Besides this, half a
company of the Shropshires, under
Colour-sergeant Sconse, managed to seize the nek
between them, and though subjected to a
severe cross fire, which caused in this small
party ten casualties out of forty, maintained
themselves stubbornly for four hours.  The
points which dominate the flat top of the
mountain were thus gained.

Meanwhile reinforcements, consisting of
the 8th Hussars, a composite Lancer
regiment, the East Yorkshire, and a field
battery, had arrived from Thabanchu, and
the approach of Bruce-Hamilton's force from
the direction of Kranz Kraal was also felt.
General Ian Hamilton now ordered Colonel
Clowes, commanding the Cavalry, to move
right round Thoba Mountain and threaten
the Boer line of retreat as a preliminary and
accompaniment of the main Infantry assault,
which had now become inevitable.  Clowes's
force was strengthened by the addition of a
horse battery.  The newly-arrived Infantry
and the field battery had to be diverted to
support the right and right rear, where the
pressure was now very strong.

At about eight A.M. General Smith-Dorrien
had himself gone up to the top of
Thoba Mountain to direct personally the
decisive movement when the time should
come.  A little before one o'clock, the
progress of the Cavalry being satisfactory, he
determined to settle the matter, so that if
successful the force might get its baggage
over the pass before dark.  He therefore
formed a line of Infantry right across the
plateau, two companies of the Shropshires in
the centre, and one and a half company of
the Gordons on either flank.  The advance
was sounded.

The troops moved forward with alacrity.
For a few moments the fire was heavy, but
the Boers knew themselves bested, and on
the soldiers raising the cheer that precedes
the actual assault they rushed to their
horses, and the whole of Thoba Mountain
was won.  The rest of the position now
became untenable, and the enemy, to the
number of 4,000, promptly evacuated it,
galloping swiftly back in the direction of
Jacobsrust.

A few troops of the 8th Hussars alone got
near enough to charge; half-a-dozen
Dutchmen were sabred, and one was shot dead by
an officer, Lieutenant Wylam.  The Boers
who were making the attack on the right
retreated at the same time as their comrades,
and the transport, no longer molested, passed
safely over the pass and parked for the night
on the northern side.  No trustworthy
estimate can be formed of the enemy's loss;
but a score of prisoners were taken, and an
equal number of bodies were found on the
position.

The British casualties were fortunately
slight considering the fire and its duration,
and did not exceed a hundred officers and men.

The next day the junction between the
columns was effected, and Ian Hamilton's
force formed, with reference to the main
advance, the Army of the Right Flank, and
was composed as follows:[#]

::

      Infantry.   { 19th Brigade     } Smith-Dorrien
                  { 21st Brigade     } Bruce-Hamilton
   
      Mounted     { 1st M. I.        } Ridley
       Infantry.  {    Brigade       }
   
      Cavalry.    { 2nd Cavalry      } Broadwood
                  {    Brigade       }
   
                  { 3 Batteries F.A. }
      Artillery.  { 2 Batteries H.A. } Waldron
                  { 2 5-in. Guns.    }

.. vspace:: 2

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   [#] For full composition see Appendix.

.. vspace:: 2

This force was supported by the Highland
Brigade and two 4.7 naval guns, under
General Colvile, who was directed to follow
the leading column at a distance of ten miles.
Hamilton proposed to march forward on the
2nd of May, but an order from headquarters
enjoined a halt; nor was it until the
afternoon of the 3rd that the force reached
Jacobsrust, as it is called by the inhabitants;
Isabellasfontein, as our maps record.  A
little cavalry skirmishing in the neighbourhood
of the camp resulted in the death of
one Lancer.

On the 4th of May the whole army moved
forward again, Lord Roberts passing through
Brandfort towards Smaldeel, Hamilton
continuing his march on Winburg.  This day
did not pass without fighting, for scarcely
had the troops left camp when a patter of
musketry warned the General that his
Cavalry had become engaged.  Riding forward,
he was the witness of a very dashing
cavalry exploit.  Across the line of advance
was drawn up a strong force of the enemy,
estimated at 4,000 men and thirteen guns.
These, in a good position along a range of
wooded bluffs, promised a sufficient task for
the troops during the day.  But now,
suddenly, from the direction of Brandfort, a
new army of Boers began to appear, riding
swiftly down to join hands with their
comrades athwart the road, and fall on the left
flank of the column.

The thing was urgent, and perhaps vital.
But between the fast converging Boer forces,
at the angle where they would meet, ran a
long ridge of indefinite extent.  General
Broadwood at once, without a moment's
delay, galloped forward, and with two
squadrons of the Guards' Cavalry and two of the
10th Hussars seized it.  The Boers were
already scrambling up its lower slopes.  A
sharp fight immediately opened.  Kitchener's
Horse, hurrying up in support, occupied a
further point of the ridge, and the Dutch,
after a determined but futile attempt to clear
the hill, fell back.  The junction of the two
Boer columns was prevented.  It seems that
the whole of their plan for the day was based
on this first condition, and in an army where
every individual soldier must have the
details of any plan explained to him it is not
easy to make fresh dispositions on the field.

Indeed, a sort of panic seems to have
taken hold of the enemy, for without waiting
for the Infantry attack to develop they fled
forthwith at great speed, galloping madly
across the drift--as the British proprietor
of Welcome Farm told me--horsemen and
guns, pell-mell, in downright rout, pursued,
so swift was their departure, only by the shells
of the Horse Artillery.

The losses in this brief affair were not
large, and almost entirely among the Cavalry.
In those few minutes of firing on the ridge
about a dozen troopers had been hit.  Lord
Airlie was slightly wounded in the arm, and
Lieutenant Rose, Royal Horse Guards, was
killed.  He had bee sent forward to see
what lay beyond the further crest of the hill,
and found that deadly riflemen lay there
waiting for a certain victim.  He fell pierced by
several bullets, and lived only for half an hour.

This officer was a most zealous soldier.
Though possessed of private means which
would have enabled him to lead a life of ease
and pleasure, he had for several years
devoted himself assiduously to the military
profession.  He went to India as a volunteer
during the Tirah Campaign, and served with
distinction on Sir Penn Symons' staff--general
and aide-de-camp both vanished now, as
the foam fades in the wake of a fast ship!
From India he hastened to West Africa, and
in that vile and pestilential region won a
considerable reputation; indeed, he was to
have received the Distinguished Service
Order for his part in recent operations there
had not another war intervened.  He
arrived at the Cape, scarcely a month ago, full
of hope and energy.  This is the end; and
while it is one which a soldier must be ready
to meet, deep sympathy will be felt for the
father, from whom the public necessities
have now required two gallant sons.

Though the disorderly and demoralised
nature of the Boer flight through Welcome
Farm was known throughout the British
Army, it was not expected that so strong a
position as the bluffs behind the Vet River
would be yielded without a shot fired.  This,
nevertheless, proved to be the case, for when,
on the morning of the 6th, Hamilton
resumed his advance, he found that no force
of the enemy stood between him and Winburg.

He therefore sent, shortly after noon, a
staff officer, Captain Balfour to wit, under flag
of truce, with a letter to the mayor of the
town summoning him forthwith to surrender
the town and all stores therein, and
promising that if this were done he would
use every effort to protect private property,
and that whatever foodstuffs were required
by the troops should be paid for.  This
message, which was duly heralded by the sound
of a trumpet, concluded by saying that unless
an acceptance was received within two hours
the General would understand that his offer
had been declined.

Thus accredited, Captain Balfour made his
way into the town and was soon the centre
of an anxious and excited crowd of burghers
and others who filled the market square.
The mayor, the landdrost, and other
prominent persons--indeed, all the inhabitants--were
eager to avail themselves of the good
terms, and a satisfactory settlement was
almost arranged when, arriving swiftly from
the northeast, Philip Botha and a commando
of 500 men, mostly Germans and Hollanders,
all very truculent since they were as yet
unbeaten, entered the town.

A violent and passionate scene ensued.
Botha declared he would never surrender
Winburg without a fight.  Dissatisfied with
the attentions paid him by Captain Balfour,
he turned furiously on him and rated him
soundly.  Several of the Free Staters had
asked what would be done to them if they
laid down their arms.  Balfour had replied
that they would be permitted to return to
their farms, unless actually captured on the
field.  This Botha held to be a breach of the
laws of war, and he thereupon charged the
officer with attempting to suborn his
burghers.  What had he to say that he should not
be made a prisoner?  'I ask favours of no
Dutchman,' replied Balfour, sternly.

'Arrest that man!' shouted Botha, in a
fury; 'I shall begin shooting soon.'  At
these shameful words a great commotion
arose.  The women screamed, the mayor
and landdrost rushed forward in the hopes
of averting bloodshed.  The Boers raised
their rifles in menace, and the unarmed
British envoy flourished his white flag indignantly.

For several minutes it seemed that an
actual scuffle, possibly a tragedy, would
occur.  But the influence of the townsfolk,
who knew that their liberty and property lay
in the hands of the Imperial General, and
that the great siege guns were even then
being dragged into effective range, prevailed,
and Philip Botha, followed by his men,
galloped furiously from the square towards the
north.

That afternoon General Ian Hamilton
entered Winburg at the head of his troops.
Under a shady tree outside the town the
mayor and landdrost tendered their
submission and two large silver keys.  The Union
Jack was hoisted in the market-place amid
the cheers of the British section of the
inhabitants, and, as each battalion marching
through the streets saw the famous emblem
of pride and power, bright in the rays of the
setting sun, these feeble or interested
plaudits were drowned in the loud acclamations
of the victorious invaders.

Hamilton was expected to arrive on the
7th, if no opposition was encountered, He
had fought nearly every day, and reached the
town on the evening of the 5th.





.. vspace:: 4

.. _`THE ARMY OF THE RIGHT FLANK`:

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   CHAPTER X

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   THE ARMY OF THE RIGHT FLANK

.. vspace:: 2

.. class:: center small

   Kroonstadt: May 16, 1900.

.. vspace:: 2

On the same day that Ian Hamilton's
force won their fight at Houtnek, to wit, the
1st of May, the advance of the main army
towards Pretoria, long expected, long
prepared, long delayed, began, and the Eleventh
Division marched north from Bloemfontein
to join the Seventh, which was entrenched
at Karree Siding.  On the 3rd both
Infantry divisions moved forward along the
railway, their left protected by Gordon's
Cavalry Brigade and Hutton's Mounted Infantry,
and after a sharp cannonade drove the Boers
from their positions covering Brandfort and
entered the town.  The advance was
resumed on the 5th, and the enemy were again
met with, this time holding the line of the
Vet River.  Another artillery action ensued,
in which the British 5-inch and naval 4.7
guns were very effective, and at the end of
which the West Australians and other parts
of Hutton's Mounted Infantry force, pushed
across the river in gallant style and captured
an important kopje.  The Dutchmen then
retreated, and the Field-Marshal's headquarters
on the 6th were fixed in Smaldeel.  His
losses since leaving Bloemfontein had not
amounted to twenty-five men.

Ian Hamilton, in spite of the long marches
his troops had made, was impatient to push
on from Winburg without delay, and,
following the track to Ventersburg, to seize the
drifts across the Sand River, twenty miles to
the north.  The great speed of his last
movement had outpaced the Boers, and their
convoys were struggling along abreast of, and
even behind, the British column, trying
vainly to slip across our front, and join the
burgher forces accumulating for the defence of
Kroonstadt.  By marching forthwith--great
though the strain might be--the General
hoped to secure the bloodless passage of the
river, and perhaps cut up some of these same
toiling convoys.  Accordingly, having
collected from the town about three days'
stores--Sir Henry Colvile helping him unselfishly
with mule waggons--he set his brigades in
motion on the afternoon of the 6th, and
marched nine miles towards the Sand.

But Lord Roberts had decided to remain
at Smaldeel until his temporary bridge over
the Vet River was made and the trains
running, and he did not choose to run the risk
of the Boers concentrating all their forces
upon any single division of his army, such as
would be incurred if Hamilton pushed
forward alone.  The principle was indisputable;
but, of course, in practice it resolved itself
into another instance of balancing drawbacks,
for delay gave the enemy time to get
his breath, and meant that the Sand River
passage would be opposed.  Besides, if the
Boers had flung all their strength upon
Hamilton, we were 7,000 bayonets, 3,000 horse,
and nearly forty guns, and would have beat
them off with a shocking slaughter.  To us
it seemed a great pity to wait; but to the
Chief, in whose eyes the Army of the Right
Flank was but one column of that far-flung
line which stretched from Rundle near
Senekal, along the front of the main army to
Methuen near Boshof, Hunter at Warrenton,
and Mahon far away on the fringe of
the Kalahari desert, it must have been a very
small matter, and certainly not one
justifying any loss of cohesion in the general
scheme.  So I have no doubt that it was
right to make us halt on the 7th and 8th.

On the former of these two days of rest
Lord Roberts sent for General Hamilton to
meet him at a point on the branch railway
line mid-way between Winburg and Smaldeel,
and they had a long private conference
together.  On the 9th, the whole army
marched forward again towards the Sand
River.  I rode with the General, who
managed somehow to find himself among the
cavalry patrols of the right flank guard,
and we watched with telescopes three long
lines of dust in the eastward, which, under
examination, developed into horsemen and
waggons marching swiftly north and turning
more and more across our front.  It was
clear that if we had pushed on without
halting, all these commandos would have been
prevented from reaching Kroonstadt.  The
General contemplated them hungrily for
some time, but they were too far off to
attack, bearing in mind the great
combination of which we were a part.  The
flanking patrols, however, exchanged a few
shots.

The march was not a long one, and by
mid-day we reached the halting-place, a mile
south of the river.  The headquarters were
fixed in a large farm which stood close to the
waggon-track we followed.

This farmhouse was certainly the best
purely Dutch homestead I have ever seen in
the 500 miles I have ridden about the Free
State.  It was a large square building, with
a deep verandah, and a pretty flower-garden
in front, and half a dozen barns and stables
around it.  The construction of a dam across
the neighbouring spruit had formed a wide
and pleasant pool, in which many good fat
ducks and geese were taking refuge from the
wandering soldier.  At the back, indeed, on
all sides but the front of the farm, rose a
thick belt of fir-trees.  Within the house the
ground-floor was divided into three excellent
bedrooms, with old-fashioned feather-beds
and quaint wooden bedsteads, a prim but
spacious parlour, a kitchen, pantry, and
storeroom.  The parlour deserved the greatest
attention.  The furniture was dark and
massive.  The boards of the floor were deeply
stained.  In the middle was a good carpet
upon which an ample oval table stood.  The
walls were hung with curious prints or
coloured plates, and several texts in Dutch.
One pair of plates I remember represented
the ten stages of man's life and woman's life,
and showed both in every period from the
cradle to the grave, which latter was not
reached until the comfortable age of one
hundred.  The woman's fortunes were
especially prosperous.  At birth she sprawled
contentedly in a cradle, whilst loving
parents bent over her in rapture, and dutiful
angels hung attendant in the sky.  At ten
she scampered after a hoop.  At twenty she
reclined on the stalwart shoulder of an
exemplary lover.  At thirty she was engaged
in teaching seven children their letters.  At
forty, she celebrated a silver wedding.  At
fifty, still young and blooming, she attended
the christening of a grandchild.  At sixty, it
was a great-grandchild.  At seventy she
enjoyed a golden wedding.  At eighty she was
smilingly engaged in knitting.  Even at
ninety she was well preserved, nor could she
with reason complain of her lot in life when,
at a hundred, the inevitable hour arrived.
'Be fruitful and multiply,' was the meaning
of a Dutch text on the opposite wall, and a
dozen children black and white (little Kaffirs,
the offspring of the servants, playing with
the sons and daughters of the house) showed
that the spirit of the injunction was
observed; and these are things with which the
statesman will have to reckon.

The inmates of the farm consisted of the
old man, a venerable gentleman of about
sixty years, his dame, a few years younger, three
grown-up daughters, a rather ill-favoured
spinster sister, and seven or eight children
or grandchildren of varying ages.  There
were in all seven sons or grandsons--two
were married and had farms of their own;
but all, including even one of fourteen, were
'on commando' at the wars, some, perhaps,
looking at us and their home from the
heights across the river.

The General politely requested shelter
for the night, and a bedroom and the
parlour were placed at his disposal; not very
enthusiastically, indeed, but that was only
natural.  The staff settled down in the
verandah so as not to disturb the family.
Ian Hamilton, keenly interested in
everything, began at once to ask the old lady
questions through an interpreter.  She gave
her answers with no good grace, and when
the General inquired about her youngest
fighting son--he of fourteen--her sour face
showed signs of emotion, and the conversation
ended for the day.  On the morrow,
however, just before he crossed the river, he
had to come back to the telegraph-tent
pitched near the farm, and found time to
see her again.

'Tell her,' he said to the interpreter, 'that
we have won the battle to-day.'

They told her, and she bowed her head
with some dignity.

'Tell her that the Dutch will now
certainly be beaten in the war.'

No response.

'Perhaps her sons will be taken prisoners.'

No answer.

'Now tell her to write down on a piece
of paper the name of the youngest, and
give it to my aide-de-camp; and then when
he is captured she must write to me or
to the Hoofd-General, and we will send
him back to her, and not keep him a prisoner.'

She thawed a little at this, and expressed
a hope that he had been comfortable while
beneath her roof, and then--for the guns
were still firing--he had to hurry away.
But the aide-de-camp remained behind for
the paper.

During the time we spent in this homely
place I made a thorough inspection of the
farm, especially the parlour, where I found
one very curious book.  It was a collection
of national songs and ballads, compiled, and
in part written, by Mr. Reitz.  I afterwards
succeeded in buying another copy in
Ventersburg; indeed, it has been widely
disseminated.  The first part consists of patriotic
Boer poems--the Volkslied, the Battle of
Majuba, the Battle of Laings Nek, and
other similar themes.  The second half of
the book is filled with Reitz's translations of
English songs and well-known ditties into
the *taal*.  John Gilpin, besides being a
burgher of credit and renown, was eke a
Field-Cornet of famous Bloemfontein.  Young
Lochinvar had come from out of the Boshof
district.  The Landdrost's daughter of
Winburg found a lover no less faithful than a
famous swain of Islington.  The pictures
were mightily diverting.  The old
Field-Cornet Gilpin--'Jan Jurgens,' as he called
himself now--was shown galloping wildly
along, on a pulling Basuto pony, through
the straggling streets of, let us say,
Ventersburg, his slouch hat crammed over his eyes,
his white beard flapping in the wind, while a
stately vrouw, four children, and a Kaffir,
flung up their hands in mingled wonder and
derision.

One piece began:

   |   Engels!  Engels! alles Engels!  Engels wat jij siet en hoor.
   |   Ins ons skole, in ons kerke, word ons modertaal vermoor.
   |

I cannot read Dutch, but the meaning and
object of the book were sufficiently clear
without that knowledge.

F. W. Reitz, sometime President of the
Free State, now State Secretary of the
Transvaal, looked far ahead, and worked
hard.  This, the foundation-stone of a
vernacular literature, was but one act in the
long scheme of policy, pursued, year in year
out, with tireless energy, and indomitable
perseverance, to manufacture a new Dutch
nation in South Africa--the policy which,
in the end, had brought a conquering army
to this quiet farm, and scattered the
schemers far and wide.  But what a game it must
have been to play!  Only a little more
patience, a little less pride and over-confidence,
concessions here, concessions there, anything
to gain time, and then, some day--a mighty
Dutch Republic, 'the exchange of a wealthier
Amsterdam, the schools of a more learned
Leyden,' and, above all--no cursed Engels.

I was considering these matters, only
suggested here, when messengers and the sound
of firing came in from the eastward.  The
news that small parties of Boers were
engaging our right flank guard did not prevent
Hamilton riding over to meet the Chief, nor
tempt us to quit the cool verandah of the
farm; but when, suddenly, at about three
o'clock, fifty shots rang out in quick
succession, scarcely 500 yards away, every one
got up in a hurry, and, snatching pistols and
belts, ran out to see what mischance had
occurred.  The scene that met our eyes was
unusual.  Down the side of the hill there
poured a regular cascade of antelope--certainly
not less than 700 or 800 in number--maddened
with fear at finding themselves in
the midst of the camp, and seeking frantically
for a refuge.  This spectacle, combined
with the hope of venison, was too much for
the soldiers, and forthwith a wild and very
dangerous fire broke out, which was not
stopped until fifteen or twenty antelopes
were killed, and one Australian Mounted
Infantryman wounded in the stomach.  The
injury of the latter was at first thought to be
serious, and the rumour ran that he was dead;
but, luckily, the bullet only cut the skin.

Thus disturbed, I thought it might be
worth while to walk up to the outpost line
and see what was passing there.  When I
reached the two guns which were posted on
the near ridge, the officers were in
consultation.  Away across the Sand River, near
two little kopjes, was a goodly Boer
commando.  They had just arrived from the
east of our line of march, and having skirted
round our pickets had set themselves down
to rest and refresh.  Spread as they were on
the smooth grass, the telescope showed every
detail.  There were about 150 horsemen,
with five ox-waggons and two guns.  The
horses were grazing, but not off-saddled.
The men were lying or sitting on the ground.
Evidently they thought themselves out of
range.  The subaltern commanding the guns
was not quite sure that he agreed with them.
Some Colonial Mounted Infantry officers
standing near were almost indignant that the
guns should let such a chance slip.  The
subaltern was very anxious to fire--'really think
I could reach the brutes'; but he was afraid
he would get into trouble if he fired his guns
at any range greater than artillery custom
approves.  His range finders said '6,000.'  Making
allowances for the clear atmosphere,
I should have thought it was more.  At last
he decided to have a shot.  'Sight for 5,600,
and let's see how much we fall short.'  The
gun cocked its nose high in the air and flung
its shell accordingly.  To our astonishment
the projectile passed far over the Boer
commando, and burst nearly 500 yards beyond
them: to our astonishment and to theirs.
The burghers lost no time in changing their
position.  The men ran to their horses, and,
mounting, galloped away in a dispersing
cloud.  Their guns whipped up and made for
the further hills.  The ox-waggons sought the
shelter of a neighbouring donga.  Meanwhile,
the artillery subaltern, delighted at the
success of his venture, pursued all these objects
with his fire, and using both his guns threw
at least a dozen shells among them.  Material
result: one horse killed.  This sort of
artillery fire is what we call waste of ammunition
when we do it to others, and a confounded
nuisance when they do it to us.  After all,
who is there who enjoys being disturbed by
shells just as he is settling himself
comfortably to rest, after a long march?  And who
fights the better next day for having to
scurry a mile and a half to cover with iron
pursuers at his heels?  Even as it was an
opportunity was lost.  We ought to have
sneaked up six guns, a dozen if there were a
dozen handy, all along the ridge, and let fly
with the whole lot, at ranges varying from
5,000 to 6,000 yards with time shrapnel.
Then there would have been a material as
well as a moral effect.  'Pooh,' says the
scientific artillerist, 'you would have used
fifty shells, tired your men, and disturbed
your horses, to hit a dozen scallawags and
stampede 150.  That is not the function of
artillery.'  Nevertheless, function or no
function, it is war, and the way to win war.
Harass, bait, and worry your enemy until
you establish a funk.  Once he is more
frightened of you than you are of him, all
your enterprises will prosper; and if fifty
shells can in any way accelerate that happy
condition, be sure they are not wasted.

The afternoon passed uneventfully away,
though the outposts were gradually drawn
into a rifle duel with the Dutch sharpshooters
in the scrub across the river.  In the
evening the General returned from his
conference with Lord Roberts, and told us the
passage was to be forced on the morrow all
along the line.  The Army of the Right Flank
would cross by the nearest drift in our
present front.  The Seventh Division inclining to
its right would come into line on our left.  The
Field-Marshal, with the Guards and the rest
of Pole-Carew's Division, would strike north
along the line of the railway.  French, with
two Cavalry brigades and Hutton's Mounted
Infantry brigade, was to swing around the
enemy's right and push hard for Ventersburg
siding.  Broadwood from our flank, with the
Second Cavalry Brigade, and such of the
Second Mounted Infantry Brigade as could
be spared, was to be thrust through as soon
as the Boer front was broken, and try to join
hands with French, thus, perhaps, cutting off
and encircling the Boer right.  The diagram--it
is not a map--on page 172 will help to
explain the scheme.

.. _`Diagram to Explain the Passage of the Sand River, 10th of May, 1900`:

.. figure:: images/img-172.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: DIAGRAM TO EXPLAIN THE PASSAGE OF THE SAND RIVER, MAY 10, 1900. The dotted lines show what was proposed; the continuous lines show what was done.  The crosses indicate the Boers.

   DIAGRAM TO EXPLAIN THE PASSAGE OF THE SAND RIVER, MAY 10, 1900. The dotted lines show what was proposed; the continuous lines show what was done.  The crosses indicate the Boers.

The operation of the next day was one
of the largest and most extended movements
of the war, although, probably from this
cause, it was attended by very little loss of
life.  Upon the British side six Infantry and
six Mounted brigades, with rather more than
100 guns, were brought into action along a
front of over twenty-five miles.  The Boers,
however, still preserved their flanks.  Upon
the west they succeeded in holding up
French, and on the east they curled round
Hamilton's right and rear so that his action
here, which in its early stages resembled that
afterwards fought at Diamond Hill, was of a
piercing rather than a turning nature.  But
in thus amazingly extending their scanty
forces, which, altogether, did not number
more than 9,000 men, with twenty-five guns,
the enemy became so weak all along their
front that the attacking divisions broke
through everywhere, as an iron bar might
smash thin ice, with scarcely any shock.

On the evening of the 10th, the British
forces, in their extended line, lay spread
along the south bank of the river, just out of
cannon-shot of the Boer positions on the
further side.  French, indeed, did not rest
content with securing his ford twelve miles
to the west of the railway, but pushed his
two brigades across before dark.  The wisdom
of this movement is disputed.  On the one
hand, it is contended that by crossing he
revealed the intention of the Commander-in-Chief,
and drew more opposition against
himself the next day.  On the other, it is
urged that he was right to get across
unopposed while he could, and that his purpose
was equally revealed, no matter which side
of the river he stayed.  During the night
Ian Hamilton, at the other end of the line,
seized the drift in his front with a battalion,
which promptly entrenched itself.  Tucker,
who proposed to cross near the same point,
despatched the Cheshire regiment for a
similar purpose.  The single battalion was
sufficient; but the importance and wisdom of
the movement was proved by the fact that
the enemy during the night sent 400 men to
occupy the river bank and hold the passage,
and found themselves forestalled.

At daybreak the engagement was begun
along the whole front.  I am only concerned
with Ian Hamilton's operations; but, in order
that these may be understood, some mention
must be made of the other forces.  French
advanced as soon as it was light, and almost
immediately became engaged with a strong
force of Boers, who barred his path, and
prevented his closing on the railway as intended.
A sharp Cavalry action followed, in which
the Boers fought with much stubbornness;
and the Afrikander Horse, a corps of
formidable mercenaries, even came to close
quarters with Dickson's brigade, and were
charged.  French persevered throughout the
day, making very little progress towards the
railway, but gaining ground gradually to the
north.  Although his casualties numbered
more than a hundred, he was still some
distance from Ventersburg siding at nightfall.
The centre attack properly awaited the
progress of the flanking movements, and was,
during the early part of the day, contented
with an artillery bombardment, chiefly
conducted by its heavy guns.  Tucker and
Hamilton, however, fell on with much
determination, and were soon briskly engaged.

Ian Hamilton began his action at half-past
five, with his heavy guns, which shelled
the opposite heights leisurely, while the
Infantry and Cavalry were moving off.  The
Boer position before us ran along a line of
grassy ridges, with occasional kopjes, which
sloped up gradually and reached their
summits about a mile from the river.  But besides
this position, which was the objective of the
force, the Boers, who held all the country to
the east, began a disquieting attack along
our right and right rear, and although the
Mounted Infantry, and principally Kitchener's
Horse, under Major Fowle, held them
at arm's length throughout the day, the firing
in this quarter caused the General some concern,
and occupied the greater part of his attention.

At six o'clock the Twenty-first Brigade
began to cross the river, and Bruce-Hamilton,
stretching out to his left, soon developed a
wide front.  The Boers now opened fire with
two or three field-guns and a 'pom-pom,'
which latter was quickly silenced by our
heavy pieces.  At the same time, the
Nineteenth Brigade, who were containing the
enemy's left, became engaged with their
skirmishers in the scrub by the river.  The
four batteries of Field Artillery also came
into action, and were pushed forward across
the drift as soon as sufficient space was gained
by the Infantry.  At a little after seven the
head of General Tucker's Division appeared
on the plain to our left, and that determined
officer thrust his men over the river in most
vigorous style.  Moreover, seeing
Bruce-Hamilton committed to an assault, he swung
two of his own batteries round to the
eastward, and so rendered us material assistance.

.. _`Ian Hamilton's Action at the Sand River, 10th of May, 1900`:

.. figure:: images/img-176.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: IAN HAMILTON'S ACTION AT THE SAND RIVER, MAY 10, 1900.  The crosses indicate the Boers.

   IAN HAMILTON'S ACTION AT THE SAND RIVER, MAY 10, 1900.  The crosses indicate the Boers.

Both Smith-Dorrien, who directed the two
Infantry brigades, and Ian Hamilton were
fully alive to the grave dangers of crowding
too many troops on to a narrow front, and
the Infantry attack was very sparingly fed
with supports, until it became completely
extended.  This condition was attained about
eleven o'clock, when the Camerons were sent
across the river to clear the scrub and
prolong the line to the right.  Bruce-Hamilton
now had his deployment completed, and
with an admirable simultaneity the whole of
the assaulting Infantry rose up and advanced
together upon the enemy's position, covered
by the heavy fire of twenty-six guns.  The
panorama was now very extensive.  Far
away to the left the smoke of lyddite shells,
and the curious speck of the war-balloon high
in the clear air, showed that the centre was
engaged.  The whole of the Seventh
Division had crossed the Sand, and were now
curving to the north-west amid a crackle of
fire.  Before us the slopes were sprinkled
with brown dots moving swiftly upwards.
The crest of the ridge was fringed with
exploding shells.  For a few minutes the Boers
fired steadily, and the dust jumped amid the
Sussex Regiment and the City Imperial
Volunteers.  But both Infantry and Artillery
attacks were far beyond the capacity of the
defence to resist, and by noon the whole of the
heights beyond the Sand were in the British
possession.

Ian Hamilton had meanwhile ordered
baggage and Cavalry to cross.  Broadwood
was over the enemy's position almost as soon
as the Infantry.  He proceeded to move in
the direction of Ventersburg siding.  The
enemy, however, had covered themselves
with a strong rearguard, and the Cavalry
were soon opposed by three guns and a
force of riflemen of considerable numbers.
Whether Broadwood would have thought it
worth while to make here the effort which
he afterwards made in the action of
Diamond Hill, and order a charge, is uncertain;
for at this moment a misunderstanding arose
which induced him to change his plans
altogether.

The Boer pressure on our right rear had
been growing stronger and stronger all the
morning, and at length Hamilton, wishing to
check the enemy sharply, so as to draw his
rearguard over the river after his baggage,
told his chief of artillery to find him a
battery.  Now it happened that only one of the
two horse batteries, 'P,' had been able to go
with the Cavalry, the other, 'Q,' being too
tired to keep up.  The chief of artillery
therefore proposed to send for the tired
battery.  Unfortunately, by some mistake, either
in giving or taking the order, the orderly
was sent for 'P' instead of 'Q.'  The man,
a sergeant-major, galloped across the river,
and, understanding that the matter was
urgent, hurried after Broadwood, overtook him
just as he was becoming engaged, and
demanded the battery.  Broadwood, who knew
that Hamilton would never deprive him of
his guns except for some very urgent reason,
sent them at once, abandoned his movement
to the north-west, which indeed was now
impracticable without artillery, and concluding
that the rearguard was seriously involved,
turned sharply to the east to assist them.
Explanations arrived too late to make it
worth while to revert to the original plan,
and, perhaps, seeing that French was unable
to make Ventersburg siding, it was just as
well that Broadwood did not try alone.

Broadwood's latest movement, or the
action of the artillery, or the knowledge that
the British had successfully forced the
passage of the river at all points, induced the
Boers who were assailing the rearguard to
desist, and the musketry in that quarter
gradually died away.  Meanwhile, by the
exertions of Lieutenant-Colonel Maxse, the
baggage had mostly been dragged across
the river, and Ian Hamilton made haste to
overtake his victorious Infantry, who had
already disappeared into the valley beyond
the enemy's position.  By the time that we
reached the top of the high ground,
Bruce-Hamilton's leading battalions were nearly a
mile further on, and the tail of Broadwood's
brigade was vanishing in a high cloud of
dust to the eastward.  The City Imperial
Volunteers, who had lost a few men in the
attack, were resting on the hill after their
advance, and eating their biscuits.  Several
dead Boers had been found lying among the
rocks, and a burial party was at work
digging a grave for these and for four of our
own men who had fallen close by.  There
were also a few prisoners--Transvaalers for
the most part--who had surrendered when
the troops fixed bayonets.  Four miles away
to the north-east the trees and houses of
Ventersburg rose from a grassy hollow.

The General decided to bivouac in the
valley beyond the enemy's position, and to
set his pickets upon the hills to the
northward.  He also sent an officer with a flag of
truce into Ventersburg to demand the
surrender of the town, and directed Broadwood
to detach a regiment and some Mounted
Infantry to occupy it, should the enemy
comply.  In case they should desire to hold the
town the 5-inch guns were brought into
position on the captured heights.

Hoping to secure some supplies, particularly
bottled beer, before everything should
be requisitioned by the army, I rode forward
after the flag of truce had gone in and
waited where I could see what followed.
When, about an hour later, a cavalry force
began to advance from the direction of
Broadwood upon the town, I knew that all
was well, and trotted on to join them.  My
road led me within a few hundred yards of
the town, but, luckily for me, I did not
enter it alone, and hurried to join the troops.
All of a sudden the ominous patter of rifle
shots broke the stillness of the evening, and,
turning to whence the sound came, I saw a
score of Boers standing on the sky-line
about a mile away and firing at the advancing
Cavalry, or, perhaps, for I was much nearer,
at me.  The next minute there galloped
out of the town about a score of Dutchmen,
who fled in the direction of their friends on
the western sky-line.  Had I ridden straight
into the town I should have run into these
people's jaws.  I lost no time in joining
the Cavalry, and entered the streets with the
squadron of Blues.  It was a miserable little
place, not to be compared with Winburg.
There were a few good stores and a small
hotel, where I found what I sought; but the
whole town was very dirty and squalid.
Thirty or forty troopers of Roberts's Horse were
firing at the fugitive burghers from the edge
of the buildings and gardens, while a score
of reckless fellows were galloping after them
in excited pursuit.  The Boers on the hill
kept up a brisk fire to help their comrades
in, and not a few of the bullets kicked up
the dust in the village streets, without in the
least disturbing the women and children who
crowded together to look at the war, in
blissful ignorance of their danger.  When some
of these people were told that they would
perhaps be killed if they came out of their
houses while the fighting was going on, they
clutched their children and sought shelter
with an energy at which, since, after all,
nobody was hurt, it was pardonable to laugh.

Night put an end to all skirmishing, and
under its cover the Boers retreated--the
greater part to Kroonstadt, which, be it
remembered, they meant to hold to the death;
but a considerable proportion to the east,
where they collected with the commandos
under Christian de Wet.  Broadwood's
brigade had captured about a dozen waggons
and thirty prisoners.  In all there were
fifty-two unwounded and seven wounded
Boers in our hands at the end of the day.
The casualties in Hamilton's force were
under fifty.  Tucker and Pole-Carew may
have lost the same number between them.
French, who encountered the most stubborn
resistance, had a little over 120.  But, in
any case, the passage of the Sand River in
this long straggling action was cheaply won
at a cost of under 250 officers and men.

All our beasts were so exhausted by the
labour of dragging the waggons through the
steep and rocky drift of the Sand, and by the
long pull up the hills on the opposite side,
that few of the regiments got their baggage
that night, and hence it was impossible to
make an early start next morning.  But it
was known that the Field-Marshal meant
to reach Kroonstadt on the next day, and as
all the information at our disposal indicated
that the Boers were entrenching a strong
position along a line of wooded bluffs called
the Boschrand, just south of the town, every
minute of halt was grudged.

We moved at eleven o'clock, heading
direct for Kroonstadt, and persevered for two
hours after the sun had set, making in all
nearly seventeen miles.  The country to our
left was flat and open, and as we converged
upon the main army we could see, like red
clouds with the sunset behind them, the long
parallel lines of dust, which marked the
marches of the Seventh and Eleventh
Divisions; and we knew besides, that, beyond
both columns and west of the railroad, French
was driving his weary squadrons forward
upon another wide swoop.  The army drew
together in the expectation of a great action.
But for all our marching we could never
make up the extra distance we had to cover
in coming diagonally from the flank, and as
darkness fell we realised that the Seventh
Division was drawing across our front, and
that Pole-Carew with the guard was striding
along ahead of us all.  That night Lord
Roberts slept at America Siding, scarcely
six miles from the Boschrand position.

Ian Hamilton marched on again at dawn,
transport and convoys struggling along miles
behind, and the fine-drawn yet eager Infantry
close upon the heels of the Cavalry screen.
At times we listened for the sound of guns,
for if the enemy stood, the Field-Marshal
must come into contact with them by eight
o'clock.  And when, after nine o'clock, no
cannonade was heard, the rumour ran through
the army that the Boers had fled without
giving battle, the pace slacked off, and the
Infantry began to feel the effects of their
exertions.

At eleven a message from Lord Roberts
reached General Broadwood to say that it
did not matter by which road Hamilton's
column marched in, as the enemy was not
holding his positions.  Thereupon I
determined, since there was to be no battle, to
see the capture of Kroonstadt, and being
mounted on a fresh pony I had bought at
Winburg, a beautiful and tireless little beast,
by an English blood sire out of a Basuto
mare, I soon left the Cavalry behind, caught
up the rear of Tucker's transport, pushed on
four or five miles along the line of march of
his division, struck the tail of the Eleventh
Division, and finally overtook the head of
the Infantry columns about three miles from
the town.

Lord Roberts entered Kroonstadt at about
mid-day with all his staff.  The Eleventh
Division, including the Guards' Brigade,
marched past him in the market square, and
then, passing through the town, went into
bivouac on the northern side.  The rest of
the army halted south of Kroonstadt.  Gordon's
Cavalry Brigade a mile from the town;
the Seventh Division and Ian Hamilton's
force three miles away, in a wide valley
among the scrub-covered, trench-rimmed hills
the Boers had not dared defend.  French,
whose turning movement had again been
obstinately opposed, reached the railway
line north of the town too late to intercept
any rolling stock.  Indeed, Major Hunter
Weston, a daring and enterprising engineer,
arrived at the bridge he had hoped to blow
up only to find that it had been blown up by
the enemy.

Thus, by one long spring from Bloemfontein,
Kroonstadt, the new capital of the Free
State, was captured.  It has the reputation
of being one of the prettiest places in the
Republic, but even when allowances are
made for the circumstances under which we
saw it, it does not seem that its fame is just.
The town looked a little larger than
Winburg, though not nearly so clean and
well-kept, and the whole place was smothered
in reddish dust, and dried up by the sun.
The Boers retreated northward along the
railway, in spite of all President Steyn's
exhortations, which included the public
sjambokking of several unwilling burghers, and
did not stop except to wreck the permanent
way until they reached Rhenoster kopjes.
The President, with the members of the
Executive Council and the seat of
Government--which needs to have a good pair of
legs beneath it in times like these--withdrew
to Lindley, whither, for various reasons, it
soon became desirable to follow them.





.. vspace:: 4

.. _`LINDLEY`:

.. class:: center large

   CHAPTER XI

.. class:: center medium

   LINDLEY

.. vspace:: 2

.. class:: center small

   Heilbron: May 22, 1900.

.. vspace:: 2

Having arrived thus prosperously at
Kroonstadt, Lord Roberts determined to
halt until his supplies were replenished and
the railway line from Bloemfontein in
working order.  Moreover, in the expectation of
a general action outside the town, he had
concentrated all his troops and had drawn
the Army of the Right Flank close in to the
main force.  Before he advanced again
towards the enemy's position on the
Rhenoster River, he wished to extend his front
widely, as he had done in the previous
operation.  The scheme of advance by
converging columns required a pause after each
concentration before the movement could be
repeated; so that while the Field-Marshal
himself remained stationary his energetic
Lieutenant was again on the move.

General Ian Hamilton, with the same
troops as before and an addition of four
'pom-poms,' started from his camp outside
Kroonstadt on the 15th, and after a short
march encamped on the eastern side of the
town preparatory to moving on Lindley,
whither President Steyn had withdrawn.
The question of supplies was a very
troublesome one, and it was no light matter to
thrust out fifty miles into a hostile country
with only three and a half days' food and
forage in hand.  Suppose anything should
happen to the convoys which were to follow.
Meat in plenty could be found everywhere,
but the stores of flour and other farinaceous
goods which the farm-houses might contain
were insufficient and precarious.  Even the
benefits of the abundant meat supply were
to some extent discounted by the scarcity of
wood, for it is not much satisfaction to a
soldier to be provided with a leg of mutton if
he has no means of cooking.  The deficiencies
were hardly made good by the arrival of
a small convoy, the greater part of which
consisted of disinfectants for standing camps,
and the rest--so valuable in a grass
country--of compressed hay.

Nevertheless, being determined, and trusting,
not without reason, in his supply officer,
Captain Atcherley, Hamilton started on the
16th, and the Infantry bivouacked eighteen
miles from Kroonstadt on the Lindley road--it
would perhaps be less misleading to
write track.  The Cavalry brigade with one
corps of Mounted Infantry under Broadwood
were pushed ten miles further on, and seized
a fine iron bridge, not marked on any map,
which spans an important spruit at
Kaalfontein.  Here trustworthy information was
received that a large force of Boers with
guns was retreating before Rundle's column
(Eighth Division) northwards upon Lindley,
and deeming it important to occupy the town
before they arrived, Hamilton ordered the
Cavalry to hurry on and take possession of
the heights to the north of it.  It was a
double march when ordinary marches were
long.  The result, however, justified the
effort.  Broadwood 'surprised'--the word is
taken from the Boer accounts--Lindley on
the 17th.  Scarcely fifty Boers were at hand
to defend it.  A waggon with 60,000*l.* in
specie barely escaped from the clutches of
the Cavalry.  After a brief skirmish the town
surrendered.  The British loss was three
men wounded.  Broadwood then retired as
directed by his chief to the commanding hill
to the north to bivouac.  This hill may for
convenience be called 'Lindley Hill' in the
subsequent narrative.

The Infantry and baggage also made a
long march on the 17th, but as the road was
obstructed by several bad spruits or *dongas*,
they were still fourteen miles from Lindley
when night closed in.  Even then the
transport was toiling on the road, and a large
part of it did not come in, and then in an
exhausted condition, until after midnight.  I
wonder how many people in England realise
what a *spruit* is, and how it affects military
operations.  Those who live in highly
developed countries, where the surface of the
earth has been shaped to our convenience by
the patient labour of many years, are
accustomed to find the road running serenely
forward across the valleys, and they scarcely
notice the bridges and culverts over which
it passes.  All is different in South Africa.
The long column of transport trails across
the plain.  The veldt in front looks smooth
and easy going.  Presently, however, there
is a block.  What is the matter?  Let us
ride forward to see: and so onward to where
the single string of waggons merges in a
vast crowd of transport, twenty rows abreast,
mule carts, Cape carts, ox waggons,
ambulances, and artillery, all waiting impatiently,
jostling each other, while drivers and
conductors swear and squabble.  Here is the
spruit--a great chasm in the ground, fifty
feet deep, a hundred yards from side to side.
The banks are precipitous and impassable at
all points except where the narrow single
track winds steeply and unevenly down.
The bottom is a quagmire, and though the
engineers are doing their best to level and
improve the roadway, it is still a combination
of the Earl's Court water chute and the
Slough of Despond.  One by one, after a
hot dispute for precedence, the waggons
advance.  The brakes must be screwed up
to their tightest grip lest the ponderous
vehicles rush forward down the slope and
overwhelm their oxen.  Even with this
precaution the descent of each is a crash, a
scramble, and a bump.  At the bottom like
a feather-bed lies the quagmire.  Here one
waggon in every three sticks.  The mules
give in after one effort--unworthy hybrids.
The oxen strain with greater perseverance.
But in the end it is the man who has to do
the hauling.  Forthwith come fatigue parties
of weary men--it has been a long march
already to soldiers fully equipped.  Drag
ropes are affixed, and so with sweat, blood,
and stretching sinew, long whips cracking
and whistling, white men heaving and natives
yelping encouragement, another waggon
comes safely through.  And there are seven
miles of transport!

On the morning of the 18th the Infantry
were about to move off, when a patter of
rifle shots to the north of the road reminded
us of the presence of the enemy.  A foraging
party of Major Rimington's Guides had
ridden up to a farm, which stood in full view
of the camp and flew (or was it hoisted
afterwards?) a white flag.  Arrived there, they
were received by a volley from five Boers in
hiding near.  Conceive the impudence of
these people: five Boers, within a mile of
eight thousand British and a powerful
Cavalry force, fire on a foraging party!
Luckily no harm done; Cavalry gallop out
angrily; Boers vanish among remoter kopjes.
'But,' said the General, 'what about my convoys?'

So it was arranged that Smith-Dorrien
should be left where he was (twelve miles
west of Lindley) with his own brigade, one
battery, and a corps of Mounted Infantry to
help in the expected convoy, and should cut
off the corner and rejoin the column at the
end of its first march towards Heilbron.
Ian Hamilton with the rest of the troops
then moved on to Lindley.  The march lay
through the same class of country hitherto
traversed--a pleasant grassy upland which,
if not abundantly supplied with water by
nature, promised a rich reward to man,
should he take the trouble to construct even
the simplest irrigation works.  Spruits ran
in all directions, and only required an
ordinary dam, like the bunds the peasants
build in India, to jewel each valley with a
gleaming vivifying lake.  The husbanding
of water would repair the scarcity of wood,
and the tenth year might see the naked
grass clothed and adorned with foliage.
But at present the country-side is so sparsely
populated that the energies of its inhabitants
could not produce much effect upon the
landscape.  The unamiable characteristic of the
Boer, to shun the sight of his neighbour's
barn, has scattered the farms so widely that
little patches of tillage are only here and there
to be seen, and the intervening miles lie
neglected, often not more than twenty acres of
a six thousand acre property being brought
into cultivation, which seems rather a pity.

The fair face of the land under its smiling
sky was not unmarked by the footprints of
war.  In the dry weather the careless habits
of the soldiers were the constant cause of
grass fires.  The half-burnt match, tossed idly
aside after a pipe was lighted, or an unguarded
spark from a cooking fire, kindled at once an
extensive conflagration.  The strong winds
drove the devouring blaze swiftly forward
across the veldt, clouding the landscape by
day with dense fumes of smoke and scarring
the scene by night with vivid streaks of flame.
So frequent were these grass fires that they
became a serious nuisance, wasting in an hour
many acres of grazing, proclaiming the
movement and marking the track of the
army, stifling the marching columns with
pungent odours, destroying the field
telegraph, and only extinguished by the heavy
dews of the early morning.  But in spite of
repeated injunctions in the daily orders, the
accidents--for which, indeed, there was every
excuse--continued, and the plains of
brownish grass were everywhere disfigured with
ugly patches of black ashes which, as the fires
burnt outwards, would spread and spread,
like stains of blood soaking through khaki.

At length the track, which had been
winding among the smooth undulations, rounded
an unusually steep hillock of kopje
character, and we saw before us at the distance
of a mile the pretty little town of Lindley.
The Cavalry bivouacs covered the nearer
slopes of the high hill to the northward.
The houses--white walls and blue-grey roofs
of iron--were tucked away at the bottom of
a regular cup, and partly hidden by the dark
green Australian trees.  We rode first of all
to Broadwood's headquarters, following the
ground wire which led thither.  Arrived
there we learned the news.  Boer laagers and
Boer patrols had been found scattered about
the country to the south-east and north-east.
There was occasional firing along the picket
line.  The town had upon most searching
requisition yielded nearly two days' supply,
and, most important of all, Piet De Wet,
brother of the famous Christian, had sent in
a message offering to surrender with such of
his men as would follow his example, if he
were permitted to return to his farm.
Broadwood had at once given the required
assurance, and Hamilton on his arrival had wired
to Lord Roberts fully endorsing the views
of his subordinate, and requesting that the
agreement might be confirmed.  The answer
came back with the utmost despatch, and was
to the effect that surrender must be
unconditional.  De Wet, it was remarked, was
excluded from the favourable terms of the
Proclamation to the Burghers of the Orange
Free State, by the fact that he had
commanded part of the Republican forces.  He
could not therefore be permitted to return to
his farm.  I need not say with what
astonishment this decision was received.  The
messenger carrying the favourable answer
was luckily overtaken before he had passed
through our picket line and the official
letter was substituted.  Piet De Wet, who
awaited the reply at a farm-house some ten
miles from Lindley, found himself presented
with the alternative of continuing the war
or going to St. Helena, or perhaps Ceylon;
and as events have shown he preferred the
former course to our loss in life, honour, and
money.

In the afternoon I rode into Lindley to
buy various stores in which my waggon was
deficient.  It is a typical South African town,
with a large central market square and four
or five broad unpaved streets radiating
therefrom.  There is a small clean-looking hotel,
a substantial gaol, a church and a schoolhouse.
But the two largest buildings are the
general stores.  These places are the depôts
whence the farmers for many miles around
draw all their necessaries and comforts.
Owned and kept by Englishmen or
Scotchmen, they are built on the most approved
style.  Each is divided into five or six large
well-stocked departments.  The variety of
their goods is remarkable.  You may buy a
piano, a kitchen range, a slouch hat, a bottle
of hair wash, or a box of sardines over the
same counter.  The two stores are the rival
Whiteley's of the country-side; and the
diverse tastes to which they cater prove at
once the number of their customers, and the
wealth which even the indolent Boer may
win easily from his fertile soil.

Personally I sought potatoes, and after
patient inquiry I was directed to a man who
had by general repute twelve sacks.  He
was an Englishman, and delighted to see the
British bayonets at last.  'You can't think,'
he said, 'how we have looked forward to this
day.'

I asked him whether the Dutch had
ill-used him during the war.

'No, not really ill-used us; but when we
refused to go out and fight they began
commandeering our property, horses and carts at
first and latterly food and clothing.  Besides,
it has been dreadful to have to listen to all
their lies and, of course, we had to keep our
tongues between our teeth.'

It was evident that he hated the Boers
among whom his lot had been cast with great
earnestness.  This instinctive dislike which
the British settler so often displays for his
Dutch neighbour is a perplexing and not a
very hopeful feature of the South African
problem.  Presently we reached his house
(where the potatoes were stored).  Above
the doorway hung a Union Jack.  I said--

'I advise you to take that down.'

'Why?' he asked, full of astonishment.

'The British are going to keep the country,
aren't they?'

'This column is not going to stay here for ever.'

'But,' with an anxious look, 'surely they
will leave some soldiers behind to protect us,
to hold the town.'

I told him I thought it unlikely.  Ours
was a fighting column.  Other troops would
come up presently for garrison duty.  But
there would probably be an interval of at
least a week.  Little did I foresee the rough
fighting which would rage round Lindley for
the next three months.  He looked very
much disconcerted; not altogether without
reason.

'It's very hard on us,' he said after a pause.
'What will happen when the Boers come
back?  They're just over the hill now.'

'That's why I should take the flag down
if I were you.  If you don't fight, keep your
politics till the war is over!'  He looked
very disappointed, and I think was asking
himself how much his enthusiasm had
compromised him.  After we had settled the
potato question to his satisfaction and I had
sent the sack away upon my pack pony, he
perked up.  'Come and see my garden,' he
said, and nothing loth I went.  It was not
above a hundred yards square, but its
contents proclaimed his energy and the
possibilities of the soil.  He explained how he
had dammed a marshy sluit in the side of
the hills to the eastward.  'Plenty of water
at all seasons: this pipe you see, only a
question of piping: as much water as ever I want:
twenty gardens: grow anything you like,
potatoes mostly, cabbages (they were
beauties), tomatoes and onions, a vine of sweet
white grapes, a bed of strawberries over
there--anything: it only wants water, and there's
plenty of that if you take the trouble to get it.'

The signs of industry impressed me.
'How long,' I asked, 'have you been here?'

'Eight years last February,' he replied;
'see those trees?'

He pointed to a long row of leafy trees
about twenty feet high, which gave a cool
shade and whose green colour pleased the
eye after looking at so much brown grass.  I
nodded.

'I planted those myself when I came:
they grow quickly, don't they?  Only a question
of water, and that is only a question of work.'

Then I left him and returned to the camp
with my potatoes and some information thrown in.

The next morning before breakfast-time
there was firing in the picket line south of
Lindley.  The patter of shots sounded across
the valley, and upon the opposite slopes the
British patrols could be seen galloping about
like agitated ants.  I was at the moment
with General Hamilton.  He watched the
distant skirmish from his tent door for a
little while in silence.  Then he said:

'The scouts and the Kaffirs report laagers
of the enemy over there, and over there, and
over there' (he pointed to the different
quarters).  'Now either I must attack them
to-day or they will attack me to-morrow.  If I
attack them to-day, I weary my troops; and
if I don't we shall have to fight an awkward
rear-guard action to get out of this place to-morrow.'

He did not say at the time which course
he meant to follow, but I felt quite sure he
would not take his troops back very far to
the south or south-east to chastise impalpable
laagers.  We were running on schedule time
and had to make our connections with the
main army, to securing whose smooth and
undisturbed march all our efforts must be
directed.  So I was not surprised when the
day passed without any movement on our part.

Very early on the 20th the brigades were
astir, and as soon as the light was strong
Broadwood's Cavalry began to stream away
over the northern ridges.  The guns and the
greater part of the Infantry followed them
without delay, so that by seven o'clock the
great column of transport was winding round
the corner of Lindley Hill on the road to
Heilbron.  The fact that parties of the enemy
had been observed on all sides except the
west, made the operation of disentangling the
force from Lindley difficult and dangerous.
Broadwood's duty was to clear the way in
front.  Legge's corps of Mounted Infantry
guarded the right flank: and Ian Hamilton
himself watched the movement of the rear
guard, which consisted of the Derbyshire
Regiment, Bainbridge's corps of Mounted
Infantry and, as a special precaution, the
82nd Field Battery.

The full light of day had no sooner
revealed the march of the troops than the
watching Boers began to feel and press the
picket line: and an intermittent musketry
spread gradually along the whole three
quarter circle round Lindley.  At eight o'clock
our troops evacuated the town itself, at nine,
the convoy being nearly round Lindley Hill,
the pickets commenced to draw in.  This
was a signal for decided increase in the
firing.  No sooner were the outposts clear of
the town than the Boers in twos and threes
galloped into it and began to fire from the
houses.  All kinds of worthy old gentlemen,
moreover, who had received us civilly enough
the day before, produced rifles from various
hiding-places and shot at us from off their
verandahs.  Indeed, so quickly did the town
revert to the enemy's hands that Somers
Somerset, the despatch rider of the 'Times,'
was within an ace of being caught.  He had
arrived late the night before, and having
found a comfortable bed at the hotel went to
sleep without asking questions.  The next
thing he remembers is the landlord rushing
into his room and crying in great excitement
that the Boers were in the town.  He
scrambled into his clothes and, jumping on his
horse galloped through the streets and was
not fired at till he was more than a quarter
of a mile away.  History does not record
whether among such disturbing events he
retained his presence of mind sufficiently to
settle his hotel bill.

The General and his staff had watched the
beginnings of the action from the now
deserted camping ground, a dirty waste,
littered with rubbish and dotted with the
melancholy figures of derelict horses and mules.
So soon as the retiring pickets drew north
of the town, he mounted and made his way
to the top of Lindley Hill.  From this
commanding table-top the whole scene of
action, indeed the whole surrounding country,
was visible.  At our feet beyond the
abandoned bivouac lay the houses of Lindley
giving forth a regular rattle of musketry.
On either side, east and west, rose two
prominent kopjes held by companies of Mounted
Infantry briskly engaged.  The tail of the
transport serpent was twisting away into
safety round the base of our hill.  Far away
on the broad expanse of down parties of
Dutch horsemen cantered swiftly forward;
and along a road beyond the eastern kopje
rose a steady trickle of mounted men.
They moved in true Boer fashion--little
independent groups of four and five, now
and then a troop of ten or a dozen, here
and there a solitary horseman riding back
against the general flow.  At no particular
moment were more than thirty to be seen
on the mile of dusty road.  Yet to an
experienced eye the movement seemed full of
dangerous significance.  One became
conscious of a growing accumulation of force
somewhere among the hills to the eastward.
The General, who had served on the Indian
frontier, understood rear-guard actions, and
his face was grave, as I had not seen it when
larger operations were toward; and at this
moment the boom of a heavy gun told us
that the advanced troops were also engaged.
The Boers knew what they wanted.  There
was an air of decision about their
movements which boded no good to rear or right
flank guard.  Gallopers were sent off, one to
warn the right corps of Mounted Infantry,
another to bid the main body of the force
go dead slow, another to the threatened
eastern kopje to learn the state of affairs
there.  The rear-guard battery was brought
up on to the table-top, and came into
action.  This was, I think, the key of the
situation.  The battery planted on Lindley
Hill, and casting its shells now in one
direction, now in another, compelled the
assailants to keep their distance, and helped the
pickets into safety and new positions further
back.  It called to mind some famous
knight of history or romance holding an
angry rabble back beyond the sweep of his
long sword, while his comrades made good
their retreat.  Under this good protection
the pickets, having dutifully held their
positions until the convoy was well on its road,
scampered in, and the battery itself began
to think about retiring.  But the trickle of
Boers along the eastern roadway had not
stopped.  Seven or eight hundred men
must have passed already; and those that
now came galloped as if they had some very
tangible objective.  'Look out, the right flank!'

But now, the rear guard having
disengaged itself from Lindley town, the
General's place was with his main body, and we
set off to trot and gallop the seven miles
that intervened between the head and tail
of our force.  The firing in front had ceased
before we came up.  Indeed, the affair had
not been of any importance.  About seven
hundred Boers with three or four guns had
obstructed the advance near the Rhenoster
River; had even checked the Cavalry screen;
Tenth Hussars had two officers wounded; a
dozen other casualties in the Brigade;
Infantry and guns wanted to clear the way.
A Cavalry brigade is not a kopje-smashing
machine.  'Never mind, here come the
cow-guns.  Now we shall see.'  Indeed, as soon
as the head of the 21st Brigade began to
deploy, the five-inch guns and a field
battery opened on the enemy, who thereupon
fled incontinently across the river, pursued
by the fire of the guns and of the Cavalry
'pom-poms.'

We were just congratulating ourselves
upon the success of these curious
operations--curious because the drill books do not
contemplate both sides fighting rear-guard
actions at the same time--when half a dozen
riderless horses galloped in from somewhere
miles away on the right flank.  Evidently
sharp fighting was proceeding there; the
flow of Boers had meant mischief.  The
peaceful landscape told no tale.  No sound
of musketry, nor sign of action could be
distinguished.  Indeed, in this scattered
warfare one part of a force may easily be
destroyed without the rest even knowing that
a shot has been fired.  'Why scatter them?'
asks the armchair strategist.  'Because if
you don't scatter, and haven't got soldiers
who are good enough to act when scattered,
you will all get destroyed in a lump together.'

The General sent directions to the rear
guard to communicate with the flank guard;
kept another corps of Mounted Infantry
handy to support either if necessary, and
turned his attention to getting his brigades
across the Rhenoster River.  While this was
proceeding the head of Smith-Dorrien's
column, which had marched prosperously
from their bivouac near Kaalfontein, came
into view, and the Army of the Right Flank
stood again united, a fact which suggests
some consideration of its functions in the
general scheme of Lord Roberts's advance.

After Kroonstadt had been captured the
republican forces on the railway retreated to
the line of the Rhenoster.  Half a mile to
the north of this river there rises abruptly
from the smooth plain a long line of rocky
hills, and in this strong position the Boers
had determined to make a stubborn stand.
Any force advancing along the railway would
indeed have found it a difficult and costly
business to cross the river and dislodge an
enemy so posted.  Other low hills trending
away to either flank would have made any
turning movement an exceedingly extended
and probably a useless operation, for the
enemy being on the inside of the circle would
have been able to confront the attack
wherever it might fall.  But the Rhenoster River,
as the reader will see by a glance at the map,
rises considerably south of the point where it
intersects the railway; and so soon as Ian
Hamilton's force was across it, the Boers
holding the kopjes position were in considerable
danger of being cut off.  The effect of
our crossing the Rhenoster between Lindley
and Heilbron should therefore be to clear
the march of the main army.  All fell out as
Lord Roberts had expected; although the
Boers had made great preparations to defend
Rhenoster, had constructed strong
entrenchments and made sidings to detrain their
heavy guns, they evacuated the whole
position without a shot being fired, compelled
by the movement of a column forty miles
away to their left flank.

All who understood the scope and cohesion
of the operations were delighted at the
prospect of getting across the Rhenoster
River.  The General was determined, rear
and flank guard actions notwithstanding, to
have his army and transport over that night:
and two practicable crossings having been
found, Infantry, Cavalry, guns and baggage
began to push across.  The last was now
increased by the arrival of Smith-Dorrien, who
brought with him a much needed convoy
with sufficient supplies to carry us on to
Heilbron and a march beyond.  It was
midnight before all the waggons were across; but
though this cruel day of march and sun tore
the hearts out of the transport animals, and
the flocks of sheep were so weary they could
scarcely be driven along, we knew that the
exertions had not been made in vain.

Late in the evening came the news from
the right flank guard.  They had waited,
fearing to expose the rear guard to a flank
attack.  The rear guard had made good its
retreat.  A gap had sprung up between the
two bodies.  The vigilant Boers had pounced
in and stampeded the horses of one Mounted
Infantry company.  A sharp, fierce fight
followed; rear guard hearing the fusillade
swung in to help.  Ultimately the Boers
were checked sufficiently to enable rear and
flank guards to cut inwards together and
draw off: but it was by general agreement
of participants a very unpleasant affair.  The
officer commanding the company whose
horses were stampeded had particularly
interesting experiences.  The Boers galloped right
in among his men, and a confused scrimmage
followed: officer was running towards
stampeded horses; on the way he passed a
burgher; 'Surrender,' cried the Dutchman.
'No,' retorted the officer--an Irishman--(with
suitable emphasis) and ran on,
whereupon burgher dismounted and began
shooting; had four shots and missed every one.
Meanwhile officer reached shelter of a
convenient rock, turned in just indignation, fitted
his Mauser pistol together and fired back.
The burgher, finding his enemy behind cover,
and himself in the open--by no means the
situation for a patriot--jumped on his horse,
and would have galloped away but that the
officer managed to hit him in the leg with
his pistol, and so he dropped, according to
the account of an eye-witness, 'like a shot rook.'

The local advantage, however, rested with
the Boers, who hit or captured the greater
part of the squadron, including twenty
wounded.  Concerning these latter, Piet De
Wet sent in a flag of truce during the night
offering to hand them over if ambulances
were sent, and several wounded Boers whom
we had taken were given up.  This was
accordingly done.  Our total losses during
the 20th were about sixty, some of whom
were officers.  The Boers admitted a loss of
twenty killed and wounded, and it may easily
have been more.  The army bivouacked on
the north bank of the Rhenoster within two
marches of the town of Heilbron, upon which
it was now designed to move.





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.. _`CONCERNING A BOER CONVOY`:

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   CHAPTER XII

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   CONCERNING A BOER CONVOY

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   Heilbron: May 22.

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Heilbron lies in a deep valley.  About it
on every side rolls the grassy upland country
of the Free State, one smooth grey-green
surge beyond another, like the after-swell of
a great gale at sea; and here in the trough
of the waves, hidden almost entirely from
view, is the town itself, white stone houses
amid dark trees, all clustering at the foot of
a tall church spire.  It is a quiet, sleepy little
place, with a few good buildings and pretty
rose gardens, half-a-dozen large stores, a
hotel, and a branch line of its own.

For a few days it had been capital of the
Free State.  The President, his secretaries,
and his councillors arrived one morning from
Lindley, bringing the 'seat of government'
with them in a Cape cart.  For nearly a week
Heilbron remained the chief town.  Then, as
suddenly as it had come, the will-o'-the-wisp
dignity departed, and Steyn, secretaries,
councillors, and Cape cart, hurried away to
the eastward, leaving behind them rumours
of advancing hosts--and (to this I can
testify) three bottles of excellent champagne.
That was on Sunday night.  The inhabitants
watched and wondered all the next day.

On the Tuesday morning, shortly after the
sun had risen, Christian De Wet appeared
with sixty waggons, five guns, and a
thousand burghers, very weary, having trekked
all night from the direction of Kroonstadt,
and glad to find a place of rest and
refreshment.  'What of the English?' inquired
the new-comers, and the Heilbron folk
replied that the English were coming, and so
was Christmas, and that the country to the
southward was all clear for ten miles.
Thereat the war-worn commando outspanned their
oxen and settled themselves to coffee.  Forty
minutes later the leading patrols of Broadwood's
Brigade began to appear on the hills
to the south of the town.

Looked at from any point of view, the
British force was a formidable array:
Household Cavalry, 12th Lancers and 10th
Hussars, with P and Q Batteries Royal Horse
Artillery (you must mind your P's and Q's
with them), two 'pom-poms,' and two
galloping Maxims; and, hurrying up behind
them, Light Horse, Mounted Infantry,
Nineteenth and Twenty-first Brigades, thirty
field-guns, more 'pom-poms,' two great
5-in. ox-drawn siege pieces ('cow guns' as the
army calls them), and Ian Hamilton.  It was
an army formidable to any foe; but to those
who now stared upwards from the little town
and saw the dark, swift-moving masses on
the hills--an avalanche of armed men and
destructive engines about to fall on
them--terrible beyond words.

'And then,' as the poet observes, 'there
was mounting in hot haste,' saddling up of
weary ponies, frantic inspanning of hungry
oxen cheated of their well-earned rest and
feed, cracking of long whips, kicking of
frightened Kaffirs; and so pell-mell out of
the town and away to the northward hurried
the commando of Christian De Wet.

The Cavalry halted on the hills for a while,
the General being desirous of obtaining the
formal surrender of Heilbron, and so
preventing street-fighting or bombardment.  An
officer--Lieutenant M. Spender-Clay, of the
2nd Life Guards--was despatched with a flag
of truce and a trumpeter; message most
urgent, answer to be given within twenty
minutes, or Heaven knows what would happen;
but all these things take time.  Flags of
truce (prescribe the customs of war) must
approach the enemy's picket line at a walk;
a mile and a half at a walk--twenty minutes;
add twenty for the answer, ten for the return
journey, and nearly an hour is gone.  So we
wait impatiently watching the two solitary
figures with a white speck above them draw
nearer and nearer to the Boer lines; 'and,'
says the brigadier, 'bring two guns up and
have the ranges taken.'

There was just a chance that while all
were thus intent on the town, the convoy and
commando might have escaped unharmed,
for it happened that the northern road runs
for some distance eastward along the bottom
of the valley, concealed from view.  But the
clouds of dust betrayed them.

'Hullo! what the deuce is that?' cried an
officer.

'What?' said everyone else.

'Why, that!  Look at the dust.  There
they go.  It's a Boer convoy.  Gone away.'

And with this holloa the chase began.
Never have I seen anything in war so like a
fox hunt.  At first the scent was uncertain,
and the pace was slow with many checks.

Before us rose a long smooth slope of
grass, and along the crest the figures of
horsemen could be plainly seen.  The tail of the
waggon train was just disappearing.  But
who should say how many rifles lined that
ridge?  Besides, there were several
barbed-wire fences, which, as anyone knows, will
spoil the best country.

Broadwood began giving all kinds of
orders--Household Cavalry to advance slowly in
the centre; 12th Lancers to slip forward on
the right, skirting the town, and try to look
behind the ridge, and with them a battery of
horse guns; 10th Hussars, to make a cast
to the left, and the rest of the guns to walk
forward steadily.

Slowly at first, and silently besides; but
soon the hounds gave tongue.  Pop, pop,
pop--the advanced squadron--Blues--had
found something to fire at, and something
that fired back, too; pip-pop, pip-pop came
the double reports of the Boer rifles.
Bang--the artillery opened on the crest-line with
shrapnel, and at the first few shells it was
evident that the enemy would not abide the
attack.  The horsemen vanished over the sky-line.

The leading squadron pushed cautiously
forward--every movement at a walk, so far.
Infantry brigadiers and others, inclined to
impatience, ground their teeth, and thinking
there would be no sport that day, went
home criticising the master.  The leading
squadron reached the crest, and we could see
them dismount and begin to fire.

We were over the first big fence, and now
the scent improved.  Beyond the first ridge
was another, and behind this, much nearer
now, dust clouds high and thick.  The
General galloped forward himself to the
newly-captured position and took a comprehensive
view.  'Tell the brigade to come here at
once--sharp.'

A galloper shot away to the rear.  Behind
arose the rattle of trotting batteries.
The excitement grew.  Already the patrols
were skirting the second ridge.  The Boer
musketry, fitful for a few minutes, died
away.  They were abandoning their second
position.  'Forward, then.'  And forward
we went accordingly at a healthy trot.

In front of the jingling squadrons two
little galloping Maxims darted out, and
almost before the ridge was ours they were
spluttering angrily at the retreating enemy,
so that four burghers, as I saw myself,
departed amid a perfect hail of bullets, which
peppered the ground on all sides.

But now the whole hunt swung northward
towards a line of rather ugly-looking
heights.  Broadwood looked at them sourly.
'Four guns to watch those hills, in case
they bring artillery against us from
them.'  Scarcely were the words spoken, when there
was a flash and a brown blurr on the side of
one of the hills, and with a rasping snarl a
shell passed overhead and burst among the
advancing Cavalry.  The four guns were on
the target without a moment's delay.

The Boer artillerists managed to fire five
shots, and then the place grew too hot for
them--indeed, after Natal, I may write,
even for them.  They had to expose themselves
a great deal to remove their gun, and
the limber and its six horses showed very
plainly on the hillside, so that we all hoped
to smash a wheel or kill a horse, and thus
capture a real prize.  But at the critical
moment our 'pom-poms' disgraced
themselves.  They knew the range, they saw the
target.  They fired four shots; the aim was
not bad.  But four shots--four miserable
shots!  Just pom-pom, pom-pom.  That was
all.  Whereas, if the Boers had had such a
chance, they would have rattled through the
whole belt, and sent eighteen or twenty
shells in a regular shower.  So we all saw
with pain how a weapon, which is so terrible
in the hands of the enemy, may become
feeble and ineffective when used on our side by
our own gunners.

After the menace of the Boer artillery
was removed from our right flank, the
advance became still more rapid.  Batteries
and squadrons were urged into a gallop.
Broadwood himself hurried forward.  We
topped a final rise.

Then at last we viewed the vermin.
There, crawling up the opposite slope, clear
cut on a white roadway, was a long line of
waggons--ox waggons and mule waggons--and
behind everything a small cart drawn by
two horses.  All were struggling with
frantic energy to escape from their pursuers.
But in vain.

The batteries spun round and unlimbered.
Eager gunners ran forward with
ammunition, and some with belts for the
'pom-poms.'  There was a momentary pause
while ranges were taken and sights aligned,
and then----!  Shell after shell crashed
among the convoys.  Some exploded on
the ground, others, bursting in the air,
whipped up the dust all round mules and
men.  The 'pom-poms,' roused at last from
their apathy by this delicious target and
some pointed observations of the General,
thudded out strings of little bombs.  For a
few minutes the waggons persevered
manfully.  Then one by one they came to a
standstill.  The drivers fled to the nearest
shelter, and the animals strayed off the road
or stood quiet in stolid ignorance of their
danger.

And now at this culminating moment I
must, with all apologies to 'Brooksby,' change
the metaphor, because the end of the chase
was scarcely like a fox hunt.  The guns had
killed the quarry, and the Cavalry dashed
forward to secure it.  It was a fine bag--to
wit, fifteen laden waggons and seventeen
prisoners.  Such was the affair of Heilbron,
and it was none the less joyous and exciting
because, so far as we could learn, no man on
either side was killed, and only one trooper
and five horses wounded.  Then we turned
homewards.

On the way back to the town I found,
near a fine farmhouse with deep verandahs
and a pretty garden, Boer ambulance
waggons, two German doctors, and a dozen
bearded men.  They inquired the issue of
the pursuit; how many prisoners had we
taken?  We replied by other questions.
'How much longer will the war last?'

'It is not a war any more,' said one of the
Red Cross men.  'The poor devils haven't
got a chance against your numbers.'

'Nevertheless,' interposed another, 'they
will fight to the end.'

I looked towards the last speaker.  He
was evidently of a different class to the rest.

'Are you,' I asked, 'connected with the
ambulance?'

'No, I am the military chaplain to the
Dutch forces.'

'And you think the Free State will
continue to resist?'

'We will go down fighting.  What else
is there to do?  History and Europe will do
us justice.'

'It is easy for you to say that, who do
not fight; but what of the poor farmers and
peasants you have dragged into this war?
They do not tell us that they wish to fight.
They think they have been made a catspaw
for the Transvaal.'

'Ah,' he rejoined, warmly, 'they have no
business to say that now.  They did not say
so before the war.  They wanted to fight.
It was a solemn pledge.  We were bound
to help the Transvaalers; what would
have happened to us after they were conquered?'

'But, surely you, and men like you, knew
the strength of the antagonist you challenged.
Why did you urge these simple people to
their ruin?'

'We had had enough of English methods
here.  We knew our independence was
threatened.  It had to come.  We did not
deceive them.  We told them.  I told my
flock often that it would not be child's play.'

'Didn't you tell them it was hopeless?'

'It was not hopeless,' he said.  'There
were many chances.'

'All gone now.'

'Not quite all.  Besides, chances or no
chances, we must go down fighting.'

'You preach a strange gospel of peace!'

'And you English,' he rejoined, 'have
strange ideas of liberty.'

So we parted, without more words; and I
rode on my way into the town.  Heilbron
had one memory for me, and it was one
which was now to be revived.  In the
hotel--a regular country inn--I found various
British subjects who had been assisting the
Boer ambulances--possibly with rifles.  It is
not my purpose to discuss here the propriety
of their conduct.  They had been placed in
situations which do not come to men in
quiet times, and for the rest they were
mean-spirited creatures.

While the Republican cause seemed
triumphant they had worked for the Dutch,
had doubtless spoken of 'damned rooineks,'
and used other similar phrases; so soon as
the Imperial arms predominated they had
changed their note; had refused to go on
commando in any capacity, proclaimed that
Britons never should be slaves, and dared
the crumbling organism of Federal
government to do its worst.

We talked about the fighting in Natal
which they had seen from the other side.
The Acton Homes affair cropped up.  You
will remember that we of the irregular
brigade plumed ourselves immensely on this
ambuscading of the Boers--the one undoubted
score we ever made against them on the Tugela.

'Yes,' purred my renegades, 'you caught
the damned Dutchmen fairly then.  We were
delighted, but of course we dared not show
it.'  (Pause.)  'That was where De Mentz
was killed.'

De Mentz!  The name recalled a vivid
scene--the old field-cornet lying forward,
grey and grim, in a pool of blood and a litter
of empty cartridge cases, with his wife's
letter clasped firmly in his stiffening fingers.
He had 'gone down fighting;' had had no
doubts what course to steer.  I knew when
I saw his face that he had thought the whole
thing out.  Now they told me that there had
been no man in all Heilbron more bitterly
intent on the war, and that his letter in the
'Volksstem,' calling on the Afrikanders to
drive the English scum from the land, had
produced a deep impression.

'Let them,' thus it ran, 'bring 50,000
men, or 80,000 men, or even'--it was a wild
possibility--'100,000, yet we will overcome
them.'  But they brought more than
200,000, so all his calculations were disproved,
and he himself was killed with the responsibility
on his shoulders of leading his men
into an ambush which, with ordinary
precautions, might have been avoided.  Such are
war's revenges.  His widow, a very poor
woman, lived next door to the hotel,
nursing her son who had been shot through the
lungs during the same action.  Let us hope
he will recover, for he had a gallant sire.





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.. _`ACTION OF JOHANNESBURG`:

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   CHAPTER XIII

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   ACTION OF JOHANNESBURG

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   Johannesburg: June 1.

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On the 24th of May, Ian Hamilton's
force, marching west from Heilbron, struck
the railway and joined Lord Roberts's main
column.  The long marches, unbroken by a
day's rest, the short rations to which the
troops had been restricted, and the
increasing exhaustion of horses and transport
animals seemed to demand a halt.  But a more
imperious voice cried 'Forward!' and at
daylight the travel-stained brigades set forth,
boots worn to tatters, gun horses dying at
the wheel, and convoys struggling after in
vain pursuit--'Forward to the Vaal.'

And now the Army of the Right Flank
became the Army of the Left; for Hamilton
was directed to move across the railway line
and march on the drift of the river near
Boschbank.  Thus, for the first time it was
possible to see the greater part of the
invading force at once.

French, indeed, was already at Parys, but
the Seventh and Eleventh Divisions, the
Lancer brigade, the corps troops, the heavy
artillery, and Hamilton's four brigades were
all spread about the spacious plain, and made
a strange picture; long brown columns of
Infantry, black squares of batteries, sprays
of Cavalry flung out far to the front and
flanks, 30,000 fighting men together, behind
them interminable streams of waggons, and,
in their midst, like the pillar of cloud that
led the hosts of Israel, the war balloon, full
blown, on its travelling car.

We crossed the Vaal on the 26th
prosperously and peacefully.  Broadwood, with
his Cavalry, had secured the passage during
the previous night, and the Infantry
arriving found the opposite slopes in British
hands.  Moreover, the Engineers, under the
indefatigable Boileau, assisted by the strong
arms of the Blues and Life Guards, had cut
a fine broad road up and down the steep
river banks.

Once across we looked again for the halt.
Twenty-four hours' rest meant convoys with
full rations and forage for the horses.  But
in the morning there came a swift messenger
from the Field-Marshal: main army crossing
at Vereeniging, demoralisation of the enemy
increasing, only one span of the railway
bridge blown up, perhaps Johannesburg
within three days--at any rate, 'try,' never
mind the strain of nerve and muscle or the
scarcity of food.

Forward again.  That day Hamilton
marched his men eighteen miles--('ten
miles,' say the text-books on war, 'is a good
march for a division with baggage,' and our
force, carrying its own supplies, had ten
times the baggage of a European division!)--and
succeeded besides in dragging his
weary transport with him.  By good fortune
the Cavalry discovered a little forage--small
stacks of curious fluffy grass called manna,
and certainly heaven-sent--on which the
horses subsisted and did not actually starve.
All day the soldiers pressed on, and the sun
was low before the bivouac was reached.
Nothing untoward disturbed the march, and
only a splutter of musketry along the
western flank guard relieved its dulness.

At first, after we had crossed the Vaal, the
surface of the country was smooth and
grassy, like the Orange River Colony, but as
the column advanced northwards the ground
became broken--at once more dangerous and
more picturesque.  Dim blue hills rose up
on the horizon, the rolling swells of pasture
grew sharper and less even, patches of wood
or scrub interrupted the level lines of the
plain, and polished rocks of conglomerate or
auriferous quartz showed through the grass,
like the bones beneath the skin of the
cavalry horses.  We were approaching the Rand.

On the evening of the 27th, Hamilton's
advance guard came in touch with French,
who, with one Mounted Infantry and two
Cavalry brigades, was moving echeloned
forward on our left in the same relation to
us as were we to the main army.

The information about the enemy was
that, encouraged by the defensive promise of
the ground, he was holding a strong position
either on the Klip Riviersburg, or along the
line of the gold mines crowning the main
Rand reef.  On the 28th, in expectation of
an action next day, Hamilton made but a
short march.  French, on the other hand,
pushed on to reconnoitre, and if possible--for
the Cavalry were very ambitious--to
pierce the lines that lay ahead.

I rode with General Broadwood, whose
brigade covered the advance of Hamilton's
column.  The troops had now entered a
region of hills which on every side threatened
the march and limited the view.

At nine o'clock we reached a regular pass
between two steep rocky ridges.  From the
summit of one of these ridges a wide
landscape was revealed.  Northwards across our
path lay the black line of the Klip Riviersburg,
stretching to the east as far as I could
sec, and presenting everywhere formidable
positions to the advancing force.  To the
west these frowning features fell away in
more grassy slopes, from among which, its
approach obstructed by several rugged
underfeatures, rose the long smooth ridge of the
Witwatersrand reef.  The numerous grass
fires which attend the march of an army in
dry weather--the results of our carelessness,
or, perhaps, of the enemy's design--veiled
the whole prospect with smoke, and made
the air glitter and deceive like the mirages in
the Soudan.  But one thing showed with
sufficient distinctness to attract and astonish
all eyes.  The whole crest of the Rand ridge
was fringed with factory chimneys.  We had
marched nearly 500 miles through a country
which, though full of promise, seemed to
European eyes desolate and wild, and now
we turned a corner suddenly, and there
before us sprang the evidences of wealth,
manufacture, and bustling civilisation.  I might
have been looking from a distance at Oldham.

The impression was destroyed by the
booming of shotted guns, unheard, by God's
grace, these many years in peaceful
Lancashire.  French was at work.  The haze and
the distance prevented us from watching
closely the operations of the Cavalry.  The
dark patches of British horsemen and the
white smoke of the Dutch artillery were
the beginning and the end of our observations.
But, even so, it was easy to see that
French was not making much progress.

As the afternoon wore on the loud
reverberations of heavy cannon told that the
Boers had disclosed their real position, and we
knew that something more substantial than
Cavalry would be required to drive them
from it.  In the evening French's brigades
were seen to be retiring across the Klip
River, and the night closed in amid the rapid
drumming of the Vickers-Maxims covering
his movement, bringing with it the certainty
of an Infantry action on the morrow.

At twelve o'clock a despatch from the
Cavalry division reached Hamilton.  French's
messenger said that the cavalry were having
a hot fight and were confronted by several
40-pounder guns, but the stout-hearted
commander himself merely acquainted Hamilton
with his orders from headquarters, to march
via Florida to Driefontein, and made no
allusion to his fortunes nor asked for
assistance.  Indeed, as we found out later, his
operations on the 28th had been practically
confined to an artillery duel, in which, though
the expenditure of ammunition was very
great and the noise alarming, the
casualties--one officer and eight men--were
fortunately small.

But the Boers, seeing the Cavalry retire at
dusk, claimed that they had repulsed the first
attack; their confidence in the strength of
the Rand position was increased; their
resistance on the next day was consequently
more stubborn; and the 'Standard and
Diggers' News' was enabled to terminate a long
career of exaggeration and falsehood by
describing one more 'bloody British defeat
with appalling slaughter.'

The event of the next day admitted of no
such misinterpretation.

The orders from headquarters for the 29th
were such as to involve certain fighting
should the enemy stand.  French, with the
Cavalry Division, was to march around
Johannesburg to Driefontein; Ian Hamilton
was directed on Florida; the main army,
under the Field-Marshal, would occupy
Germiston and seize the junctions of the
Natal, Cape Colony, and Potchefstroom lines.
These movements, which the chief had
indicated by flags on the map, were now to be
executed--so far as possible--by soldiers on
the actual field.

The operations of the main army are not
my concern in this letter; but it is necessary
to state the result, lest the reader fail to
grasp the general idea, and, while studying
the detail, forget their scale and meaning.

Advancing with great speed and
suddenness through Elandsfontein, Lord Roberts
surprised the Boers in Germiston, and after
a brief skirmish drove them in disorder from
the town, which he then occupied.  So
precipitate was the flight of the enemy, or so
rapid the British advance, that nine
locomotives and much other rolling stock were
captured, and the line from Germiston
southward to Vereeniging was found to be
undamaged.  The importance of these
advantages on the success of the operations can
scarcely be over-estimated.  The problem of
supply was at once modified, and though the
troops still suffered privations from scarcity
of food, the anxieties of their commanders
as to the immediate future were removed.

French had camped for the night south
of the Klip River, just out of cannon shot
of the enemy's position, and at eight o'clock
on the morning of the 29th he moved off
westward, intending to try to penetrate, or,
better still, circumvent, the barrier that lay
before him.

Such ground as he had won on the
previous day he held with Mounted Infantry,
and thus masking the enemy's front he
attempted to pierce if he could not turn his
right.  For these purposes the force at his
disposal--three horse batteries, four
'pom-poms,' and about 3,000 mounted men--was
inadequate and unsuited.  But he knew that
Ian Hamilton, with siege guns, field guns,
and two Infantry brigades, was close behind
him, and on this he reckoned.

Firing began about seven o'clock, when
the Boers attacked the Mounted Infantry
Corps holding the positions captured on the
28th, and who were practically covering the
flank movement of the rest of the Cavalry
Division and the march of Hamilton's
column.  The Mounted Infantry, who were
very weak, were gradually compelled to fall
back, being at one time enfiladed by two
Vickers-Maxims and heavily pressed in front.

But their resistance was sufficiently
prolonged to secure the transference of force
from right to left.  By ten o'clock French
had gone far enough west to please him, and
passing round the edge of a deep swamp
turned the heads of his regiments sharply
to their right (north), and moved towards
the Rand ridge and its under features.

By the vigorous use of his Horse Artillery
he cleared several of the advanced kopjes,
and had made nearly two miles progress
north of the drainage line of the Klip River,
when he was abruptly checked.  A squadron
sent forward against a low fringe of rocks,
clumping up at the end of a long grass glacis,
encountered a sudden burst of musketry fire,
and returned, pursued by shell, with the
information that mounted men could work no
further northwards.

Meanwhile Hamilton, who had determined
to lay his line of march across the Doornkop
ridges (of inglorious memory), and
whose Infantry, baggage, and guns were
spread all along the flat plain south of the
Klip, was drawing near.  French halted his
brigades and awaited him.  The instructions
from headquarters defined very carefully the
relations which were to be observed between
the two Generals.  They were to co-operate,
yet their commands were entirely separate.
Should they attack the same hill at once,
French, as a lieutenant-general and long
senior to Hamilton, would automatically
assume command.  But this contingency was
not likely to arise from the military situation,
and the good feeling and mutual confidence
which existed between these two able
soldiers, and which had already produced golden
results at Elandslaagte, made the possibility
of any misunderstanding still more remote.

French was joined by Hamilton at one
o'clock, and they discussed the situation
together.  French explained the difficulty of
further direct advance.  He must move still
more to the west.  On the other hand,
Hamilton, whose force was eating its last day's
rations, could make no longer *détour*, and
must break through there and then--frontal
attack, if necessary.  So all fitted in
happily.  The Cavalry division moved to the left
to co-operate with the Infantry attack by
threatening the Boer right, and, in order that
this pressure might be effective, Hamilton
lent Broadwood's Brigade and two corps of
Mounted Infantry to French for the day.
He himself prepared to attack what stood
before him with his whole remaining force.

By two o'clock the Cavalry in brown
swarms had disappeared to the westward,
both Infantry brigades were massed under
cover on the approaches of the Rand ridge,
and the transport of the army lay accumulated
in a vast pool near the passage of the
Klip--here only a swamp, but further east a
river.  The artillery duel of the morning had
died away.  The firing on the right, where
the Mounted Infantry still maintained
themselves, was intermittent.  The reconnaissance
was over.  The action was about to begin,
and in the interval there was a short, quiet
lull--the calm before the storm.  The
soldiers munched their biscuits silently under
the sun blaze.  The officers and staff ate a
frugal luncheon.  Ian Hamilton with his
aide-de-camp, the Duke of Marlborough,
shared the contents of my wallets.  I
watched the General closely.  He knew
better than the sanguine people who declared
the Boers had run away already.  No one
understood better than he what a terrible foe is
the rock-sheltered Mauser-armed Dutchman.
In spite of its cavalry turning movement,
and other embellishments, the impending
attack must be practically frontal.  Supply
did not allow a wider circle: to stop was to
starve; and the position before us--half-a-dozen
clusters of rock, breaking from the
smooth grass upward slopes, except in colour
like foam on the crest of waves, natural
parapet and glacis combined, and, beyond all, the
long bare ridge of the Rand lined with who
should say what entrenchments or how many
defenders--a prospect which filled all men
who knew with the most solemn thoughts.

For my part, having seen the Infantry
come reeling back in bloody ruin two or three
times from such a place and such a foe,
though I risked no repute on the
event--scarcely my life--I confess to a beating
heart.  But the man who bore all the
responsibility, and to whom the result meant
everything, appeared utterly unmoved.
Indeed, I could almost imagine myself the
General and the General the Press
Correspondent, though perhaps this arrangement
would scarcely have worked so well.

At three o'clock precisely the Infantry
advanced to the attack.  Major-General
Bruce-Hamilton directed the left attack with the
Twenty-first Brigade, and Colonel Spens the
right with the Nineteenth Brigade.  The
whole division was commanded by General
Smith-Dorrien.  The lateness of the hour
gave scarcely any time for the artillery
preparation, and the artillery came into action
only a few minutes before the infantry were
exposed to fire.

It must be noticed that the combination
of the batteries and the support which they
afforded to the attack was scarcely so
effective as might have been expected from the
number of guns available.  But the General
commanding a mixed force is bound to trust
the various specialists under him, at least
until experience has shown them to be
deficient in energy or ability.

The Infantry advance was developed on
the most modern principles.  Each brigade
occupied a front of more than a mile and
three quarters, and the files of the first line
of skirmishers were extended no less than
thirty paces.  Bruce-Hamilton, with the left
attack, started a little earlier than the right
brigade, and, with the City Imperial
Volunteers in the first line, soon had his whole
command extended on the open grass.

A few minutes after three, French's guns
were heard on the extreme left, and about
the same time the firing on the right swelled
up again, so that by the half-hour the action
was general along the whole front of
battle--an extent of a little over six miles.

.. _`Ian Hamilton's Action before Johannesburg`:

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   :alt: Ian Hamilton's Action before Johannesburg

   IAN HAMILTON'S ACTION BEFORE JOHANNESBURG

The left attack, pressed with vigour, and
directed with skill by General Bruce-Hamilton,
led along a low spur, and was designed to
be a kind of inside turning movement to
assist the right in conformity with the Cavalry
action now in full swing.  The City Imperial
Volunteers moved forward with great dash
and spirit, and in spite of a worrying fire
from their left rear, which increased in
proportion as they moved inwards towards the
right, drove the Boers from position after
position.  While there is no doubt that
French's pressure beyond them materially
assisted their advance, the rapid progress of
this Twenty-first Brigade entitled them and
their leader to the highest credit.  The
Cameron Highlanders and the Sherwood
Foresters supported the attack.  The Boers
resisted well with artillery, and their shells
caused several casualties among the advancing
lines; but it was on the right that the
fighting was most severe.

The leading battalion of the Nineteenth
Brigade chanced--for there was no selection--to
be the Gordon Highlanders; nor was it
without a thrill that I watched this famous
regiment move against the enemy.  Their
extension and advance were conducted with
machine-like regularity.  The officers
explained what was required to the men.
They were to advance rapidly until under
rifle fire, and then to push on or not as they
might be instructed.

With impassive unconcern the veterans
of Chitral, Dargai, the Bara Valley,
Magersfontein, Paardeburg, and Houtnek walked
leisurely forward, and the only comment
recorded was the observation of a private:
'Bill, this looks like being a kopje
day.'  Gradually the whole battalion drew out
clear of the covering ridge, and long dotted
lines of brown figures filled the plain.  At
this moment two batteries and the two
5-in. guns opened from the right of the line,
and what with the artillery of French and
Bruce-Hamilton there was soon a loud cannonade.

The Dutch replied at once with three or
four guns, one of which seemed a very heavy
piece of ordnance on the main Rand ridge,
and another fired from the kopje against
which the Gordons were marching.  But the
Boer riflemen, crouching among the rocks,
reserved their fire for a near target.  While
the troops were thus approaching the
enemy's position, the two brigades began
unconsciously to draw apart.  Colonel Spens'
battalions had extended further to the right
than either Ian Hamilton or Smith-Dorrien
had intended.  Bruce-Hamilton, pressing
forward on the left, found himself more and
more tempted to face the harassing attack
on his left rear.  Both these tendencies had
to be corrected.  The Gordons were deflected
to their left by an officer, Captain
Higginson, who galloped most pluckily into the
firing line in spite of a hail of bullets.
Bruce-Hamilton was ordered to bear in to his right
and disregard the growing pressure behind
his left shoulder.  Nevertheless a wide gap
remained.  But by this mischance Ian
Hamilton contrived to profit.  Smith-Dorrien
had already directed the only remaining
battalion--the Sussex--to fill up the interval,
and the General-in-Chief now thrust a
battery forward through the gap, almost flush
with the skirmish line of the Infantry on its
left and right.

The fire of these guns, combined with the
increasing pressure from the turning
movements both of Bruce-Hamilton and French,
who was now working very far forward in
the west, weakened the enemy's position on
the kopje which the Gordons were
attacking.  Yet, when every allowance has been
made for skilful direction and bold leading,
the honours, equally with the cost of the
victory, belong more to the Gordon Highlanders
than to all the other troops put together.

The rocks against which they advanced
proved in the event to be the very heart of
the enemy's position.  The grass in front of
them was burnt and burning, and against
this dark background the khaki figures
showed distinctly.  The Dutch held their
fire until the attack was within 800 yards,
and then, louder than the cannonade, the
ominous rattle of concentrated rifle fire burst
forth.  The black slope was spotted as
thickly with grey puffs of dust where the
bullets struck as with advancing soldiers,
and tiny figures falling by the way told of
heavy loss.  But the advance neither checked
nor quickened.

With remorseless stride, undisturbed by
peril or enthusiasm, the Gordons swept
steadily onward, changed direction half left
to avoid, as far as possible, an enfilade fire,
changed again to the right to effect a
lodgment on the end of the ridge most suitable
to attack, and at last rose up together to
charge.  The black slope twinkled like jet
with the unexpected glitter of bayonets.
The rugged sky-line bristled with kilted
figures, as, in perfect discipline and
disdainful silence, those splendid soldiers closed on
their foe.

The Boers shrank from the contact.  Discharging
their magazines furiously, and firing
their guns at point-blank range, they
fled in confusion to the main ridge, and the
issue of the action was no longer undecided.

Still the fight continued.  Along the whole
Infantry front a tremendous rifle fire blazed.
Far away to the left French's artillery
pursued the retreating Boers with shells.  The
advanced batteries of Hamilton's force fired
incessantly.  The action did not cease with
the daylight.  The long lines of burning
grass cast a strange, baleful glare on the field,
and by this light the stubborn adversaries
maintained their debate for nearly an hour.

At length, however, the cannonade slackened
and ceased, and the rifles soon imitated
the merciful example of the guns.  The chill
and silence of the night succeeded the hot
tumult of the day.  Regiments assembled
and reformed their ranks, ambulances and
baggage waggons crowded forward from the
rear, the burning veldt was beaten out, and
hundreds of cooking fires gleamed with more
kindly meaning through the darkness.

The General rode forward, to find the
Gordons massed among the rocks they had
won.  The gallant Burney, who commanded
the firing line, was severely wounded.
St. John Meyrick was killed.  Nine officers and
eighty-eight soldiers had fallen in the attack;
but those that remained were proud and
happy in the knowledge that they had added
to the many feats of arms which adorn the
annals of the regiment--one that was at least
the equal of Elandslaagte or Dargai; and,
besides all this, they may have reflected that
by their devotion they had carried forward
the British cause a long stride to victory,
and, better than victory, to honorable peace.
Ian Hamilton spoke a few brief words of
thanks and praise to them--'the regiment my
father commanded and I was born in'--and
told them that in a few hours all Scotland
would ring with the tale of their deeds.  And
well Scotland may, for no men of any race
could have shown more soldier-like behaviour.

Then we rode back to our bivouac, while
the lanterns of searching parties moved hither
and thither among the rocks, and voices
cried 'Bearer party this way!'  'Are there
any more wounded here?' with occasional
feeble responses.

Owing to the skilful conduct of the attack,
the losses, except among the Gordons, were
not severe--in all about 150 killed and
wounded.  The result of the fight--the
action of Johannesburg, as we called it--was
the general retreat of all the enemy west of
the town under Delarey and Viljoen northwards
towards Pretoria, and, in conjunction
with the Field-Marshal's movements, the
surrender of the whole of the Witwatersrand.

French, continuing his march at dawn to
Driefontein, captured one gun and several
prisoners.  Ian Hamilton entered Florida,
and found there and at Maraisburg sufficient
stores to enable him to subsist until his
convoys arrived.





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.. _`THE FALL OF JOHANNESBURG`:

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   CHAPTER XIV

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   THE FALL OF JOHANNESBURG

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   Johannesburg: June 2.

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Morning broke and the army arose ready,
if necessary, to renew the fight.  But the
enemy had fled.  The main Rand ridge still
stretched across our path.  Its defenders
had abandoned all their positions under the
cover of darkness.  Already French's
squadrons were climbing the slopes to the
eastward and pricking their horses forward to
Elandsfontein (North).  So Hamilton's force,
having but six miles to march to Florida,
did not hurry its departure, and we had
leisure to examine the scene of yesterday's
engagement.  Riding by daylight over the
ground of the Gordon's attack, we were still
more impressed by the difficulties they had
overcome.  From where I had watched the
action the Boers had seemed to be holding a
long black kopje, some forty feet high, which
rose abruptly from the grass plain.  It now
turned out that the aspect of steepness was
produced by the foreshortening effects of the
burnt grass area; that in reality the ground
scarcely rose at all, and that what we had
thought was the enemy's position was only a
stony outcrop separated from the real line of
defence by a bare space of about 200 yards.

Looking around I found a Highlander, a
broad-shouldered, kind-faced man, with the
Frontier ribbon, which means on a Gordon
tunic much hard fighting; and judging with
reason that he would know something of
war, I asked him to explain the ground and
its effect.

'Well, you see, sir,' he said, in quick
spoken phrases, 'we was regularly tricked.
We began to lose men so soon as we got
on the burnt grass.  Then we made our
charge up to this first line of little rocks,
thinking the Boers were there.  Of course
they weren't here at all, but back over there,
where you see those big rocks.  We were
all out of breath, and in no order whatever,
so we had to sit tight here and wait.'

'Heavy fire?' I asked.  He cocked his
head like an expert.

'I've seen heavier; but there was enough.
We dropped more than forty men here.  'Tis
here poor Mr. ---- was wounded; just behind
this stone.  You can see the blood here
yet, sir--this mud's it.'

I looked as required, and he proceeded:

'We knew we was for it then; it didn't
look like getting on, and we couldn't get
back--never a man would ha' lived to cross
the black ground again with the fire what it
was, and no attack to fright them off their
aim.  There was such a noise of the bullets
striking the rocks that the officers couldn't
make themselves heard, and such confusion
too!  But two or three of them managed to
get together after a while, and they told us
what they wanted done ... and then,
of course, it was done all right.'

'What was done?  What did you do?'

'Why, go on, sir, and take that other line--the
big rocks--soon as we'd got our breath.
It had to be done.'

He did not seem the least impressed with
his feat of arms.  He regarded it as a piece
of hard work he had been set to do, and
which--this as a matter of course--he had
done accordingly.  What an intrepid
conquering machine to depend on in the hour
of need!--machine and much more, for this
was a proud and intelligent man, who had
thought deeply upon the craft of war, and
had learnt many things in a severe school.

I had not ridden a hundred yards further,
my mind full of admiration for him and his
type, when a melancholy spectacle broke
upon the view.  Near a clump of rocks
eighteen Gordon Highlanders--men as good
as the one I had just talked with--lay dead
in a row.  Their faces were covered with
blankets, but their grey stockinged feet--for
the boots had been removed--looked very
pitiful.  There they lay stiff and cold on the
surface of the great Banket Reef.  I knew
how much more precious their lives had been
to their countrymen than all the gold mines
the lying foreigners say this war was fought
to win.  And yet, in view of the dead and
the ground they lay on, neither I nor the
officer who rode with me could control an
emotion of illogical anger, and we scowled
at the tall chimneys of the Rand.

General Ian Hamilton, General Smith-Dorrien,
all their staffs, and everyone who
wished to pay a last tribute of respect to
brave men, attended the funerals.  The
veteran regiment stood around the grave,
forming three sides of a hollow square--Generals
and staff filled the other.  The mourning
party rested on their arms, reversed; the
Chaplain read the Burial Service, the bodies
were lowered into the trench, and the pipes
began the lament.  The wild, barbaric music
filled the air, stirring the soldiers, hitherto
quite unmoved, with a strange and very
apparent force.  Sad and mournful was the
dirge wailing of battles ended, of friendships
broken, and ambitions lost; and yet there
were mingled with its sadness many notes
of triumph, and through all its mourning
rang the cry of hope.

The whole of Hamilton's force had
marched by ten o'clock, but even before
that hour the advanced guard had passed
through Florida and picketed the hills
beyond.  Florida is the Kew Gardens of
Johannesburg.  A well-built dam across a broad
valley has formed a deep and beautiful lake.
Carefully planted woods of Australian pines
offer a welcome shade on every side.  The
black and white pointed chimneys of the
mine buildings rise conspicuous above the
dark foliage.  There is a small but comfortable
hotel, called 'The Retreat,' to which on
Sundays, in times of peace, the weary
speculators whose minds were shattered by the
fluctuations of the Exchange were wont to
resort for rest or diversion.  Everywhere
along the reef the signs of industry and
commerce were to be seen.  Good macadamised
roads crossed each other in all directions;
flashy advertisements caught the eye.  A
network of telegraphs and telephones ran
overhead.  The ground was accurately marked
out with little obelisks of stone into 'Deeps'
and 'Concessions,' and labelled with all the
queer names which fill the market columns
of the newspapers.  In a word, it seemed--to
us dirty, tattered wanderers--that we had
dropped out of Africa and War, and come
safely back to Peace and Civilisation.

Since the soldiers had eaten their last day's
rations, and the only food they had had that
morning came from any odds and ends the
regiments might have saved, it was imperative
to find some supplies.  The Field-Marshal
had ordered that no troops should enter
Johannesburg until he should specially
direct; but, finding little to eat in Florida,
Hamilton sent his supply officer and a
squadron as far as Maraisburg; whence they
presently returned with a quantity of tinned
rabbit and sardines, and with the news that the
Boers were said to be occupying a position
near Langlaagte mine.

During the morning we caught a train
and some prisoners.  The train was returning
from Potchefstroom, guarded by six
armed burghers, and on rifles being pointed,
it stopped obediently and surrendered.  The
other prisoners were brought in by the
Cavalry and Mounted Infantry, who had caught
them wandering about without their horses.
Among them was Commandant Botha--not
Louis or Philip--but Botha of the
Zoutspansburg commando, a brave and honest
fellow, who had fought all through the war
from Talana Hill until the last action; but
who was quite content that Fate had decided
he should fight no more.  Hearing of him
under guard, and near headquarters, I went
to see him.  He displayed no bitterness
whatever, and seemed quite prepared to
accept the decision of war.  He inquired
anxiously whether he would be sent to
St. Helena, and evinced a childish horror of the
sea.  While we were chatting, one of the
other Boer prisoners, who had been looking
hard at us, said, suddenly, in very good
English:

'The last time I saw you, you were in my
position and I in yours.'

He then went on to tell me that he had
been in the commando that destroyed the
armoured train.  'I felt very sorry for you
that day,' he said.

I remarked that it was much worse to be
taken prisoner at the beginning of a war
than near the end, as he was.

'Do you think this is the end?' asked the
Commandant quickly.

'I should ask you that.'

'No, no--not yet the end.  They will
fight a little more.  Perhaps they will defend
Pretoria--perhaps you will have to go to
Lydenburg; but it will not be very long now.'

And then, since both he and his companion
had been through the Natal campaign,
we fell to discussing the various actions.  Ian
Hamilton came up while we were talking.  I
had just told the Commandant that we
considered the Boers had made a fatal strategic
mistake in throwing their main strength into
Natal, instead of merely holding the passes,
masking Mafeking and Kimberley, and
marching south into the colony with every
man and gun they could scrape together.
He admitted that perhaps that might be so;
'but,' said he, 'our great mistake in Natal
was not assaulting Ladysmith--the Platrand
position, you know--the day after our victory
at Lombard's Kop.  We blame Joubert for
that.  Many of us wanted to go on then.
There were no fortifications; the soldiers
were demoralised.  If once we had taken the
Platrand (Cæsar's Camp) you could not have
held the town.  How many men had you on
top of it?'

'Only a picket for the first week,' said the
General.

'Ah!  I knew we could have done it.
What would have happened then?'

'We should have had to turn you out.'

The Commandant smiled a superior smile.
The General continued: 'Yes--with the
bayonet--at night; or else, as you say, the
town could not have been held.'

'Presently,' said Botha, 'you pulled
yourselves together, but for three days after
Nicholson's Nek there was no fear of
bayonets.  If we had stormed you then--(then
we had all our men and no Buller to think
about)--you would not have been able to
turn us out.'

Hamilton reflected.  'Perhaps not,' he
said, after a pause.  'Why didn't Joubert
try it?'

'Too old,' said Botha, with complete
disdain; 'you must have young men for fighting.'

That was, so far as I remember, the end
of the conversation; but, a fortnight later, I
met Botha a free man in the streets of
Pretoria.  He told me he had been released on
parole, so that evidently his frank manliness
had not been lost upon the General.

After lunch I became very anxious to go
into, and, if possible, through, Johannesburg.
An important action had been fought,
witnessed by only two or three correspondents;
and since the enemy lay between the force
and the telegraph wire no news could have
been sent home.  Hamilton, indeed, had sent
off two of Rimington's Guides early in the
morning with despatches; but they were to
make a wide sweep to the south, and it was
not likely, if they got through at all, that
they would reach Lord Roberts until late.
The shortest, perhaps the safest, road lay
through Johannesburg itself.  But was the
venture worth the risk?  While I was
revolving the matter in my mind on the
verandah of the temporary headquarters, there
arrived two cyclists from the direction of the
town.  I got into conversation with one of
them, a Frenchman, Monsieur Lautré by
name.  He had come from the Langlaagte
mine, with which undertaking he was
connected.  There were no Boers there,
according to him.  There might or might not be
Boers in the town.  Could a stranger get
through?  Certainly, he thought, unless he
were stopped and questioned.  He
undertook there and then to be my guide if I
wished to go; and it being of considerable
importance to get the telegrams through to
London, I decided, after a good many
misgivings, to accept his offer.  The General,
who wanted to send a more detailed account
of his action, and to report his arrival at
Florida, was glad to avail himself even of
this precarious channel.  So the matter was
immediately settled.  Lautré's friend, a most
accommodating person, got off his bicycle
without demur and placed it at my disposal.
I doffed my khaki, and put on a suit of plain
clothes which I had in my valise, and
exchanged my slouch hat for a soft cap.  Lautré
put the despatches in his pocket, and we
started without more ado.

The tracks were bad, winding up and down
hill, and frequently deep in sand; but the
machine was a good one, and we made fair
progress.  Lautré, who knew every inch of
the ground, avoided all highways, and led me
by devious paths from one mine to another,
around huge heaps of tailings, across little
private tram lines, through thick copses of fir
trees, or between vast sheds of machinery,
now silent and idle.  In three-quarters of an
hour we reached Langlaagte, and here we
found one of Rimington's scouts pushing
cautiously forward towards the town.  We
held a brief parley with him, behind a house,
for he was armed and in uniform.  He was
very doubtful of the situation ahead; only
knew for certain that the troops had not yet
entered Johannesburg.  'But,' said he, 'the
Correspondent of the *Times* passed me more
than two hours ago.'

'Riding?' I asked.

'Yes,' he said, 'a horse.'

'Ah,' said my Frenchman, 'that is no
good.  He will not get through on a horse.
They will arrest him.'  And then, being
quite fired with the adventure: 'Besides, we
will beat him, even if, unhappily, he escape
the Boers.'

So we hurried on.  The road now ran
for the most part down hill, and the houses
became more numerous.  The day was nearly
done, and the sun drew close to the
horizon, throwing our long shadows on the white
track before us.  At length we turned into a
regular street.

'If they stop us,' said my guide, 'speak
French.  Les François sont en bonne odeur
ici.  You speak French, eh?'

I thought my accent might be good enough
to deceive a Dutchman, so I said yes; and
thereafter our conversation was conducted in
French.

We avoided the main thoroughfares,
bicycling steadily on through the poorer
quarters.  Johannesburg stretched about me on
every side, silent, almost deserted.  Groups
of moody-looking people chatted at the street
corners, and eyed us suspiciously.  All the
shops were shut.  Most of the houses had
their windows boarded up.  The night was
falling swiftly, and its shades intensified the
gloom which seemed to hang over the town,
on this the last day of its Republican existence.

Suddenly, as we crossed a side lane, I saw
in the street parallel to that we followed, three
mounted men with slouch hats, bandoliers,
and that peculiar irregular appearance which
I have learned to associate with Boers.  But
to stop or turn back was now fatal.  After
all, with the enemy at their gates, they had
probably concerns of their own to occupy
them.  We skimmed along unhindered into
the central square, and my companion, whose
coolness was admirable, pointed me out the
post-office and other public buildings,
speaking all the time in French.  The slope now
rose against us so steeply that we dismounted
to push our machines.  While thus circumstanced
I was alarmed to hear the noise of
an approaching horse behind me.  With an
effort I controlled my impulse to look back.

'*Encore un Boer*,' said Lautré lightly.

I was speechless.  The man drew nearer,
overtook and pulled his horse into a walk
beside us.  I could not help--perhaps it was
the natural, and, if so, the wise, thing to
do--having a look at him.  He was a Boer sure
enough, and I think he must have been a
foreigner.  He was armed *cap-à-pie*.'  The
horse he rode carried a full campaigning kit
on an English military saddle.  Wallets,
saddle-bags, drinking-cup, holsters--all were
there.  His rifle was slung across his back,
he wore two full bandoliers over his
shoulders and a third round his waist--evidently
a dangerous customer.  I looked at his face
and our eyes met.  The light was dim, or
he might have seen me change colour.  He
had a pale, almost ghastly visage, peering
ill-favoured and cruel from beneath a slouch
hat with a large white feather.  Then he
turned away carelessly.  After all, I suppose
he thought it natural a poor devil of a
townsman should wish to look at so fine a cavalier
of fortune.  Presently he set spurs to his
horse and cantered on.  I breathed again
freely.  Lautré laughed.

'There are plenty of cyclists in Johannesburg,'
he said.  'We do not look extraordinary.
No one will stop us.'

We now began to approach the south-eastern
outskirts of the town.  If the original
scheme of advance had been carried
out, Lord Roberts's leading brigade should
be close at hand.  Lautré said, 'Shall we
inquire?'  But I thought it better to wait.
As we progressed the streets became still
more deserted, and at last we found
ourselves quite alone.  For more than half a
mile I did not see a single person.  Then
we met a shabby-looking man, and now,
no one else being in sight, the night dark,
and the man old and feeble, we decided to
ask him.

'The English,' he said with a grin, 'why,
their sentinels are just at the top of the hill.'

'How far?'

'Five minutes--even less.'

Two hundred yards further on three
British soldiers came in sight.  They were
quite unarmed, and walking casually forward
into the town.  I stopped them and asked
what brigade they belonged to.  They
replied Maxwell's.

'Where is the picket line?'

'We haven't seen no pickets,' said one of them.

'What are you doing?'

'Looking for something to eat.  We've
had enough of 'arf rations.'

I said, 'You'll get taken prisoners or shot
if you go on into the town.'

'Wot's that, guvnor?' said one of them,
deeply interested in this extraordinary
possibility.

I repeated, and added that the Boers were
still riding about the streets.

'Well, then, I ain't for it,' he said with
decision.  'Let's go back and try some of
them 'ouses near the camp.'

So we all proceeded together.

I discovered no picket line at the edge of
the town.  Maxwell must have had one
somewhere, but it certainly did not prevent
anyone from passing freely; for we were
never challenged, and, walking on, soon
found ourselves in the middle of a large
bivouac.  I now became of some use to my
companion, for if he knew the roads I knew
the army.  I soon found some officers of my
acquaintance, and from them we learned
that Lord Roberts's headquarters were not
at Elandsfontein (South), but back at
Germiston, nearly seven miles away.  It was
now pitch dark, and all signs of a road had
vanished; but Lautré declared he knew his
way, and, in any case, the messages--press
and official--had to go through.

We left the camp of Maxwell's Brigade
and struck across country in order to cut
into the main southern road.  A bicycle
now became a great incumbrance, as the
paths wound through dense fir woods,
obstructed by frequent wire fences, ditches,
holes, and high grass.  Lautré, however,
persisted that all was well, and, as it turned
out, he was right.  After about an hour of
this slow progress we reached the railway,
and, seeing more camp fires away to the left,
turned along it.  Half a mile in this
direction brought us to another bivouac, which
we likewise entered unchallenged.  I asked a
soldier whose brigade he belonged to, but he
did not know, which was painfully stupid of
him.  A group of officers were gathered
round an enormous fire a few yards away,
and we went up to them to ask.  Chance
had led me to General Tucker's mess.  I
had known the commander of the Seventh
Division in India, when he was stationed at
Secunderabad, and he welcomed me with
his usual breezy courtesy.  He had been
sent off with his leading brigade late in the
afternoon to try to join hands with French,
and so complete the circle round Johannesburg;
but darkness had curtailed his march.
Besides this, no communications having yet
come through from the Cavalry, he was
uncertain where French was.  Naturally he
was interested to hear what had passed on
the west of the town, and about the stirring
action of the previous day.  From him I
got some whisky and water, and clear
directions to the Field-Marshal's headquarters.
They were, it appeared, two miles beyond
Germiston, a mile and a half west of the
road, in a solitary house on a small hill
which stood beyond a large tank.  And in
case these indications might have been of
little avail in the dark, he led us a few feet
up the slope, and there we saw that, on the
blackness of the night, flamed a regular
oblong of glittering lights.  It was the camp
of the Eleventh Division.  Somewhere near
that were the Chief's headquarters.  Thus
instructed, we resumed our journey.

Another half-hour of walking brought us,
as Lautré had promised, to a good firm
road, and the bicycles quickly made amends
for their previous uselessness.  The air was
cold, and we were glad to spin along at a
fair ten miles an hour.  At this rate twenty
minutes brought us into Germiston.  Not
knowing where I should be likely to find
dinner, or a bed, I dismounted opposite the
hotel, and, seeing lights and signs of
occupation, went inside.  Here I found Mr. Lionel
James, the principal Correspondent of
the *Times*.  I asked him if his subordinate
had arrived from Hamilton's force.  He
said 'No'; and when I told him he had
started two hours in front of me, looked
much concerned; whereat the Frenchman
could not conceal a heartless grimace.  I
offered to give him some account of the
action for his own use (for what is more
detestable than a jealous journalist?), but he
said that I had had the good luck to come
through, and that he would not think of
depriving me of my advantage.  Alas! the
days of newspaper enterprise in war are
over.  What can one do with a censor, a
forty-eight hours' delay, and a fifty-word
limit on the wire?  Besides, who can
compete with Lord Roberts as a special
correspondent?  None against the interest of his
daily messages; very few against their style
and simple grace.  Never mind.  It is all
for the best.

We dined hastily and not too well, secured
the reversion of half the billiard table,
should all other couches fail, and set out
again, this time tired and footsore.  After
two miles of dusty track the camp was
reached.  I found more officers who knew
where Army Headquarters were, and at last,
at about half-past ten, we reached the
solitary house.  We sent the despatches in by
an orderly, and after a few minutes Lord
Kerry came out and said that the Chief
wanted to see the messengers.

Now, for the first time in this war, I found
myself face to face with our illustrious leader.
The room was small and meanly furnished,
and he and his staff, who had just finished
dinner, sat round a large table which occupied
the greater part of the floor.  With him were
Sir William Nicholson (who arranges all the
transport of the army, a work the credit of
which is usually given to Lord Kitchener)
and Colonel Neville Chamberlayne, his
private secretary, both of them soldiers of the
practical Indian school, where you have real
fighting, both of them serving once more
under their commander of Afghan days.
There, too, was Sir Henry Rawlinson, whom
I had last seen round Sir George White's
table, the night Dundonald broke into
Ladysmith; and Sir James Hills-Johnes, who won
the Victoria Cross in the Indian Mutiny,
and aides-de-camp and others whom I
cannot remember.

The Field-Marshal rose from his place,
shook hands, and bade us, in most ceremonious
fashion, to be seated.  He had read half
of Hamilton's despatch.

'The first part of this,' he said, 'we knew
already.  Two guides--Rimington's, I think--got
in here about an hour ago.  They had
a dangerous ride, and were chased a long
way, but escaped safely.  I am glad to hear
Hamilton is at Florida.  How did you get
through?'

I told him briefly.  His eye twinkled.  I
have never seen a man before with such
extraordinary eyes.  I remember to have been
struck with them on several occasions.  The
face remains perfectly motionless, but the
eyes convey the strongest emotions.
Sometimes they blaze with anger, and you see hot
yellow fire behind them.  Then it is best to
speak up straight and clear, and make an
end quickly.  At others there is a steel grey
glitter--quite cold and uncompromising--which
has a most sobering effect on anyone
who sees it.  But now the eyes twinkled
brightly with pleasure or amusement or
approbation, or, at any rate, something
friendly.

'Tell me about the action,' he said.

So I told him all I knew, much as it is
set down in these pages, though not nearly
at such length; but I don't think the tale
lost in the telling.  From time to time he
asked questions about the Artillery concentration,
or the length of front of the Infantry
attack, and other technical matters, on which
I was luckily well-informed.  The fact that
the troops had no rations seemed to disturb
him very much.  He was particularly
interested to hear of Hamilton's novel attack 'at
thirty paces extension'; of the manner in
which the batteries had been rammed almost
into the firing line; but most of all he wanted
to hear about the Gordons' charge.  When
I had done he said: 'The Gordons' always
do well.'  Then he asked what we proposed
to do.  Lautré said he would go back
forthwith; but the Chief said, 'Much better stay
here for the night; we will find you beds';
so of course we stayed.  He asked me
whether I meant to go back next morning.
I said that as I had got my messages to the
telegraph office I thought, upon the whole,
that I would not run any more risks, but
wait and see the British occupation of the
town.  He laughed at this, and said that I
was quite right, and would be very ill-advised
to be caught again.  Then he said that he
would send a letter to Hamilton in the
morning, bade us all 'good-night,' and retired to
his waggon.  I, too, found a comfortable
bed--the first for a month--and being
thoroughly worn out soon fell asleep.

Part of Lord Roberts's letter that he wrote
to Ian Hamilton next day was published in
the orders of the flanking column.  In some
way it explains why the private soldier will
march further for 'Bobs Bahadur' than for
any one else in the world.

'I am delighted at your repeated successes,
and grieve beyond measure at your poor
fellows being without their proper rations.  A
trainful shall go to you to-day.  I expect to
get the notice that Johannesburg surrenders
this morning, and we shall then march into
the town.  I wish your column, which has
done so much to gain possession of it, could
be with us.

'Tell the Gordons that I am proud to
think I have a Highlander as one of the
supporters on my coat-of-arms.'





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.. _`THE CAPTURE OF PRETORIA`:

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   CHAPTER XV

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   THE CAPTURE OF PRETORIA

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   Pretoria: June 8.

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The Commander-in-Chief had good
reasons--how good we little knew--for wishing
to push on at once to the enemy's capital,
without waiting at Johannesburg.  But the
fatigue of the troops and the necessities of
supply imposed a two days' halt.  On the
3rd of June the advance was resumed.  The
army marched in three columns.  The left,
thrown forward in echelon, consisted of the
Cavalry Division under French; the centre
was formed by Ian Hamilton's force; and
the right or main column nearest the railway
comprised the Seventh and Eleventh Divisions
(less one brigade left to hold Johannesburg),
Gordon's Cavalry Brigade, and the
Corps Troops all under the personal
command of the Field-Marshal.

The long forward stride of the 3rd was,
except for a small action against French,
unchecked or unopposed by the Boers, and
all the information which the Intelligence
Department could collect seemed to promise
a bloodless entry into the capital.  So strong
was the evidence that at dawn on the 4th of
June Hamilton's column was diverted from
its prescribed line of march on Elandsfontein[#]
and drawn in towards the main army,
with orders to bivouac on Pretoria Green,
west of the town.  French, whom the change
of orders did not reach, pursued his wide
turning movement, and encountered further
opposition in a bad country for cavalry.

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   [#] Yet another Elandsfontein, situated to the west of Pretoria.

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At ten o'clock it was reported that
Colonel Henry, with the corps of Mounted
Infantry in advance of the main column, was
actually in the suburbs of Pretoria
without opposition.  The force continued to
converge, and Ian Hamilton had almost
joined Lord Roberts's force when the
booming of guns warned us that our anticipations
were too sanguine.  The army had
just crossed a difficult spruit, and Colonel
Henry with the Mounted Infantry had
obtained a lodgment on the heights beyond.
But here they were sharply checked.  The
Boers, apparently in some force, were
holding a wooded ridge and several high hills
along the general line of the southern Pretoria forts.

Determined to hold what he had obtained,
Lord Roberts thrust his artillery well
forward, and ordered Ian Hamilton to support
Colonel Henry immediately with all mounted
troops.  This was speedily done.  The
horsemen galloped forward, and, scrambling up
the steep hillsides, reinforced the thin firing
line along the ridge.  The artillery of the
Seventh Division came into action in front
of the British centre.  The Boers replied
with a brisk rifle fire, which reached all three
batteries, and drew from them a very
vigorous cannonade.

Meanwhile the Infantry deployment was
proceeding.  The 14th Brigade extended for
attack.  Half an hour later Pole-Carew's
batteries prolonged the line of guns to the
right, and about half-past two the corps and
heavy artillery opened in further prolongation.
By three o'clock fifty guns were in
action in front of the main army, and both
the Seventh and Eleventh Divisions had
assumed preparatory formations.  The
balloon ascended and remained hanging in the
air for an hour--a storm signal.

During this time Hamilton was pushing
swiftly forward, and Smith-Dorrien's 19th
Infantry Brigade occupied the line of heights,
and thus set free the mounted troops for a
turning movement.  The 21st Brigade
supported.  The heights were so steep in front
of Hamilton that his artillery could not come
into action, and only one gun and one
'pom-pom' could, by great exertion, be dragged
and man-handled into position.  The fire of
these pieces, however, caught the Boers
holding the weeded ridge in enfilade, and was by
no means ineffective.

So soon as Hamilton had collected the
mounted troops he sent them to reinforce
Broadwood, whom he directed to move
round the enemy's right flank.  The ground
favoured the movement, and by half-past
four the Cavalry were seen debouching into
the plain beyond the Boer position,
enveloping their flank and compromising their
retreat.

Colonel de Lisle's corps of Mounted
Infantry, composed mainly of Australians,
made a much shorter circuit, and reaching
the level ground before the Cavalry espied
a Boer Maxim retreating towards the town.
To this they immediately gave chase, and the
strong Waler horses were urged to their
utmost speed.  The appearance of this
clattering swarm of horsemen, must have been
formidable to those below.  But we who watched
from the heights saw what Ian Hamilton,
who was in high spirits, described as 'a
charge of infuriated mice' streaming across
the brown veldt; so great are the distances
in modern war.

Towards four o'clock the cannonade all
along the front had died away, and only the
heavy artillery on the right of Pole-Carew's
Division continued to fire, shelling the forts,
whose profile showed plainly on the sky-line,
and even hurling their projectiles right over
the hills into Pretoria itself.  So heavy had
the artillery been that the Boers did not
endure, and alarmed as well by the flank
movement they retreated in haste through
the town; so that before dusk their whole
position was occupied by the Infantry
without much loss.  Night, which falls at this
season and in this part of the world as early
as half-past five, then shut down on the
scene, and the action--in which practically
the whole Army Corps had been engaged--ended.

The fact that the forts had not replied to
the British batteries showed that their guns
had been removed, and that the Boers had
no serious intention of defending their capital.
The Field-Marshal's orders for the morrow
were, therefore, that the army should
advance at daybreak on Pretoria, which it was
believed would then be formally surrendered.
Meanwhile, however, Colonel de Lisle, with
the infuriated mice--in other words, the
Australians--was pressing hotly on, and at
about six o'clock, having captured the flying
Maxim, he seized a position within rifle shot
of the town.  From here he could see the
Boers galloping in disorder through the
streets, and, encouraged by the confusion that
apparently prevailed, he sent an officer
under flag of truce to demand the surrender.
This the panic-stricken civil authorities, with
the consent of Commandant Botha, obeyed,
and though no British troops entered the
town until the next day, Pretoria actually
fell before midnight on the 4th of June.

As soon as the light allowed the army
moved forward.  The Guards were directed
on the railway station.  Ian Hamilton's
force swept round the western side.  Wishing
to enter among the first of the victorious
troops the town I had crept away from as a
fugitive six months before, I hurried
forward, and, with the Duke of Marlborough,
soon overtook General Pole-Carew, who,
with his staff, was advancing towards the
railway station.  We passed through a
narrow cleft in the southern wall of mountains,
and Pretoria lay before us--a picturesque
little town with red or blue roofs peeping
out among masses of trees, and here and
there an occasional spire or factory chimney.
Behind us, on the hills we had taken, the
brown forts were crowded with British
soldiers.  Scarcely two hundred yards away
stood the railway station.

Arrived at this point, General Pole-Carew
was compelled to wait to let his Infantry
catch him up; and while we were delayed a
locomotive whistle sounded loudly, and, to
our astonishment--for had not the town
surrendered?--a train drawn by two engines
steamed out of the station on the Delagoa
Bay line.  For a moment we stared at this
insolent breach of the customs of war, and
a dozen staff officers, aides-de-camp, and
orderlies (no mounted troops being at hand)
started off at a furious gallop in the hopes of
compelling the train to stop, or at least of
scooting the engine-driver, and so sending it
to its destruction.  But wire fences and the
gardens of the houses impeded the pursuers,
and, in spite of all their efforts, the train
escaped, carrying with it ten trucks of horses,
which might have been very useful, and one
truck-load of Hollanders.  Three engines
with steam up and several trains, however,
remained in the station, and the leading
company of Grenadiers, doubling forward,
captured them and their occupants.  These
Boers attempted to resist the troops with
pistols, but surrendered after two volleys had
been fired, no one, fortunately, being hurt in
the scrimmage.

After a further delay, the Guards, fixing
bayonets, began to enter the town, marching
through the main street, which was crowded
with people, towards the central square, and
posting sentries and pickets as they went.
We were naturally very anxious to know
what had befallen our comrades held
prisoners all these long months.  Rumour said
they had been removed during the night to
Waterfall Boven, 200 miles down the
Delagoa Bay line.  But nothing definite was
known.

The Duke of Marlborough, however,
found a mounted Dutchman who said he
knew where all the officers were confined,
and who undertook to guide us, and without
waiting for the troops, who were advancing
with all due precautions, we set off at a gallop.

The distance was scarcely three-quarters
of a mile, and in a few minutes, turning a
corner and crossing a little brook, we saw
before us a long tin building surrounded by
a dense wire entanglement.  Seeing this, and
knowing its meaning too well, I raised my
hat and cheered.  The cry was instantly
answered from within.  What followed
resembled the end of an Adelphi melodrama.

The Duke of Marlborough called on the
commandant to surrender forthwith.  The
prisoners rushed out of the house into the
yard, some in uniform, some in flannels,
hatless or coatless, but all violently excited.
The sentries threw down their rifles.  The
gates were flung open, and while the rest
of the guards--they numbered fifty-two in
all--stood uncertain what to do, the
long-penned-up officers surrounded them and
seized their weapons.  Some one--Grimshaw
of the Dublin Fusiliers--produced a
Union Jack (made during imprisonment out
of a Vierkleur).  The Transvaal emblem
was torn down, and, amid wild cheers, the
first British flag was hoisted over Pretoria.
Time 8.47, June 5.

The commandant then made formal
surrender to the Duke of Marlborough of 129
officers and 39 soldiers whom he had in
his custody as prisoners of war, and
surrendered, besides himself, 4 corporals and 48
Dutchmen.  These latter were at once
confined within the wire cage, and guarded by
their late prisoners; but, since they had
treated the captives well, they have now
been permitted to take the oath of neutrality
and return to their homes.  The anxieties
which the prisoners had suffered during the
last few hours of their confinement were
terrible, nor did I wonder, when I heard the
account, why their faces were so white and
their manner so excited.  But the reader
shall learn the tale from one of their number,
nor will I anticipate.

At two o'clock Lord Roberts, the staff,
and the foreign attachés entered the town,
and proceeded to the central square, wherein
the Town Hall, the Parliament House, and
other public buildings are situated.  The
British flag was hoisted over the Parliament
House amid some cheers.  The victorious
army then began to parade past it,
Pole-Carew's Division, with the Guards leading,
coming from the south, and Ian Hamilton's
force from the west.  For three hours the
broad river of steel and khaki flowed
unceasingly, and the townsfolk gazed in awe
and wonder at those majestic soldiers whose
discipline neither perils nor hardships had
disturbed, whose relentless march no
obstacles could prevent.

With such pomp and the rolling of drums
the new order of things was ushered in.
The former Government had ended without
dignity.  One thought to find the President--stolid
old Dutchman--seated on his stoep
reading his Bible and smoking a sullen pipe.
But he chose a different course.  On the
Friday preceding the British occupation he
left the capital and withdrew along the
Delagoa Bay Railway, taking with him a
million pounds in gold, and leaving behind
him a crowd of officials clamouring for pay,
and far from satisfied with the worthless
cheques they had received, and Mrs. Kruger,
concerning whose health the British people
need not further concern themselves.

I cannot end this letter without recalling
for one moment the grave risks Lord
Roberts bravely faced in order to strike the
decisive blow and seize Pretoria.  When he
decided to advance from Vereeniging without
waiting for more supplies, and so profit by
the enemy's disorder, he played for a great
stake.  He won, and it is very easy now to
forget the adverse chances.  But the facts
stand out in glaring outline: that if the
Boers had defended Pretoria with their forts
and guns they could have checked us for
several weeks; and if, while we were trying
to push our investment, the line had been
cut behind us, as it has since been cut,
nothing would have remained but starvation
or an immediate retreat on Johannesburg,
perhaps on the Vaal.  Even now our
position is not thoroughly secure, and the
difficulties of subjugating a vast country, though
sparsely populated, are such that the troops
in South Africa are scarcely sufficient.  But
the question of supplies is for the present
solved.  The stores of Johannesburg, and still
more of Pretoria, will feed the army for
something over a fortnight, and in the meanwhile
we can re-open our communications, and
perhaps do much more.  But what a lucky
nation we are to have found, at a time of sore
need and trouble, a General great enough to
take all risks and overcome all dangers.





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.. _`"HELD BY THE ENEMY"`:

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   CHAPTER XVI

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   'HELD BY THE ENEMY'

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   *Extracts from the Journal of Lieutenant H. Frankland,
   Royal Dublin Fusiliers, lately prisoner of
   war at Pretoria*.

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Lieutenant Frankland was captured
by the Boers when the armoured train was
destroyed at Chieveley, in Natal, on the 15th
of November, 1899.  He was carried as a
prisoner to Pretoria, where he arrived on the
19th of November, and where he remained
until the 5th of June, 1900, when Pretoria
fell and the greater part of the prisoners
were set free by their victorious comrades.

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   \*      \*      \*      \*      \*

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'*November* 19*th.*--To wake up and find
oneself enclosed in the space of a few acres
for an indefinite period is scarcely pleasant;
however, one cannot always be miserable.
The monotony will, I have no doubt, become
very trying, but for the first few days I
have a good deal to do.  The State Model
School, which has been turned into a prison
for the officers, is a building of rectangular
shape.  A long corridor runs through the
centre, and on both sides of this are the
rooms, where the officers sleep.  They are
supplied with a spring bed and two blankets
apiece, while the whole place is lighted by
electricity.  At one end is the dining-room
and gymnasium.

'In front is the road, from which the
building is separated by iron railings.
Behind there is a sort of back garden where the
police and soldier servants live in tents, and
where the kitchen and the bath-room are
situated.  This piece of ground is surrounded
on three sides by a six-foot fence of
corrugated iron, and the whole place is watched by
a cordon of armed police, about fifteen being
on duty always.  The Government here
generously supplies the officers with bread and
water, half a pound of bully beef a day, and
groceries.  We have a small piece of ground
and a gymnasium for exercise.  As there are,
alas! about fifty officers here, we have formed
a sort of mess, and for the sum of three
shillings a day we improve our scanty allowance
of food.  They have supplied us with a suit
of clothes each, but mine was much too big
for me.  I began to write my diary this
evening, and had a long talk with Garvice in
my regiment, who told me how he had been
captured.  Dinner 7.30; bed, and sleep.

'*November* 20*th.*--It looks as if the rest
of my diary for several months would
contain each day the words, "the same as usual."  I
have only been here forty-eight hours, but
the monotony has already begun to show
itself.  Not the monotony only, but the want
of freedom, the want of news, the knowledge
that the rest of the war will be carried
out without my share in its victories, when,
had it not been for some unhappy fate, I
might yet have seen many an action--all
these combine to oppress and irritate my
mind.  I tried to make a sketch of the
armoured train, but it was not a success, and I
must begin again to-morrow.  The very
length of empty time in front of me makes
me quite patient.

'*November* 21*st.*--It is getting extremely
hot.  The lack of open space to walk in
makes me feel lazy, and one gets quite tired
after going a few times around the building.
What one most looks forward to are the
meals, and these are not very satisfying.  But
of course I am still suffering from the
appetite of freedom, and I have no doubt that a
month or so of this sort of life will make me
feel less ravenous.  I wrote some of my
diary, and commenced another sketch of the
armoured train, which I hope to be able to
send to the "Graphic."  Churchill has written
asking to be released, but he does not expect
any result.  The mosquitoes here are very
troublesome, and I have been constantly
bitten.

'*November* 23*rd.*--The mail was supposed
to go to-day, so I found occupation in a few
letters.  It is still very sultry.  I succeeded
in getting through a good deal of my diary,
and, after writing nearly all day, played a
game of rounders in the evening.  This last
occupation appears to cause much annoyance
to the police, who frequently get hit
by the ball.  Another game here is fives,
which we play with a tennis ball in the
gymnasium.  There seems to be some news about,
but we can get nothing out of these people.
By these people I mean Malan--a spiteful,
objectionable animal--who ought to be at
the front, were he not a coward; Opperman,
a slightly more agreeable person, of large
dimensions, and Dr. Gunning, a much more
amiable fellow.  It seems absurd that they
do not allow us to buy papers.  What harm
could we do with them?

'Some of the restrictions are so childish,
and tend to make life here so sickening, that
I am sure if curses could harm the Transvaal
Government it would not be long-lived.

'This morning Churchill was visited by
De Souza, the Secretary of War, by the
Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs, and
others, and there followed a very animated
discussion about the causes and the justice of
the war.  It was a drawn game, and they all
talked at once at the end, especially Churchill.
I am afraid for his sake he is not likely to be
exchanged or released.  The Boers have got
to hear of the part he played in the armoured
train episode.

'*November* 24*th.*--There is some news
abroad to-day.  The Free Staters have been
attacked at Belmont by the British, probably
under Buller, but the result is uncertain.
Of course the Boers report a victory on their
side, but one gets quite accustomed to their
"victories."  Dundee was a victory, likewise
Elandslaagte.  I am getting on slowly with
my diary, and manage to make it occupy a
great deal of time.

'*November* 25*th.*--Evidently we have
won a victory at Belmont; its results are
immediately apparent here.  They have
suddenly become much more lenient and
complacent.  We are actually allowed
newspapers, and the President is considering the
question of beer.  The papers admit that the
British drove the Free Staters from their
position at Belmont, but with great loss,
while that of the Boers is practically nil.
Rumours say that General Joubert is cut off
between Estcourt and Mooi River; how I
hope it is true!

'*November* 26*th.*--The Rev. Mr. Hofmeyr
is a prisoner here, and held service
this morning, when he delivered a most
eloquent address.  There is a harmonium in
one of the rooms, and Mr. Hofmeyr, who
sings very well, gives us some very good
music.  He knows a lot of old English songs,
which are pleasant to hear, although they
rather suggest the Psalm beginning "By the
waters of Babylon."  Hofmeyr, though a
Dutchman, is an ardent supporter of the
Imperial cause, and he has in consequence been
very cruelly treated by the Boers before he
came here.

'It is quite touching to see how the Boers
try to hide their defeat.  All the accounts
are cooked, but even De Souza acknowledges
that if things go on as at present the
war will soon be over.  There have been
several days' fighting south of Kimberley, and
Buller is advancing steadily.  On the Natal
side Joubert passed Estcourt, and reached
Mooi River, where he was attacked by the
new division and defeated.  In retiring he
was attacked by part of the Estcourt
garrison, result unknown.  He will probably
retire on Colenso.

'*November* 27*th.*--Not much news to-day.
According to the "Volksstem" British lost
fifteen hundred at Belmont, and the Boers
nine killed and forty wounded.  However,
they can't deny that the Free Staters were
licked, and De Souza admits that Kimberley
will probably be relieved shortly.  Moreover,
Khama is said to have risen.  This has
disturbed them all exceedingly, and Opperman
is highly indignant.

'*November* 30*th.*--I find nothing to
record here except the scraps of news one gets
in the newspapers, all else is
monotonous--appalling monotony.  In the evening one
feels it most, and sometimes I don't think I
can endure it for another month.  All sorts
of absurd rumours are spread about here by
that intelligent paper the "Volksstem."  The
latest is that four British regiments have
refused to fight, being in sympathy with the
Republican cause.  I wonder whether Buller
will desert to the Boer side?  The fact
remains that the papers give no news whilst
there must be plenty, and this looks as if the
untold news must be bad for them.  We
hear that General Forestier-Walker has been
killed, and that Lord Methuen is seriously
wounded.  This morning the rumour runs
that our troops have occupied Colenso.  The
regiment is sure to be there.  How I wish I
were with it!

'*December* 4*th.*--No real news, but various
and contradictory rumours.  The Boers have
begun to acknowledge their losses, and the
paper have long lists of killed and wounded.
Major ----, of the West Yorks, arrived
to-day, having been captured near Estcourt.
From him I learned that all was well there.
A few days ago three battalions--West
Yorks, Borderers and Second Queen's--went
out and attacked the Boers.  Apparently the
engagement was indecisive, and the losses
on either side not very great.  The rumour
goes that Buller is in Natal, and not in the
Free State after all.  Of course he is
advancing to the relief of Ladysmith.  We all
think that his plan will be to hold the Boers
in front of Colenso while he takes a large
force around by the flank.  The Boers have
retired beyond the river, and have blown up
the Tugela railway bridge.  On the other
side, Lord Methuen's Division is having
severe fighting; he has defeated the Boers
at Modder River, and the relief of Kimberley
is imminent.  The papers do not publish
much news themselves, but occasionally
publish some of the English cuttings with
sarcastic editorial comments.  In the Dutch
version of the "Volksstem" they slate the
Free Staters unmercifully for having run
away at Modder River.

'Oh, that we might be exchanged.
Joubert has wired *via* Buller to England
advocating such a step.

'*December* 15*th.*--"*Tempus fugit*," and it
has not been quite so dull as usual.  First,
and most important of all, Churchill has
escaped.  Whether he has made it good or
not is still uncertain; but he has now been
gone two days, and I have great hopes.
Besides the excitement there has been a
very amusing side to the affair.  Of course
Churchill was the very last person who ought
to have gone.  He was always talking and
arguing with the officials, and was therefore
well known, and, indeed, scarcely a day
passed without Dr. Gunning or Mr. de Souza
inquiring for him.  His plans for escape
were primitive; but, being still in prison, I
must not write anything about this part of
the affair.  Let it suffice that Churchill got
away without any trace left behind.  Next
morning, as it chanced, it was the day for
the barber to come and shave him, and
having only just woke up I put the barber
off rather feebly by saying that Churchill had
gone to the bath-room, and would not need
shaving.  What should the detective who
accompanied the barber do but wait outside
the bath-room, and, finding no Churchill,
began to suspect.  Gunning then came upon
the scene, closely followed by Opperman, both
asking and seeking anxiously for their
captive.  Their distress at finding him gone
was really pathetic.  They immediately put
on all kinds of restrictions.  No papers,
calling rolls, not allowing anyone into the
yard outside the building after 8 P.M,, and
stopping all beer.  I am reminded of the
fable "Le Corbeau et le Renard," which ends,
"Le Corbeau ... jura, mais un peu tard, qu'on
ne l'y prendroit plus."  Curiously enough,
the day after Churchill had escaped an order
is said to have come from General Joubert
for his release.  However, I have no doubt
but that this was all made up to excuse
themselves for not being able to catch him.
I do hope he gets away.

'Our spirits are constantly on the rise and
fall.  At one time we are about to be
exchanged, at another nothing has been heard
of it; at one time there is a brilliant British
success, greatly modified, of course, by the
enlightened "Volksstem" editor, at another
a crushing British defeat, with all the
Generals and thousands of soldiers killed
and wounded.  Yesterday we heard of the
splendid achievement of the British troops
in Ladysmith in smashing up the 84-pounder
at Lombard's Kop, several Howitzers and a
Maxim.  Then came the defeat of General
Gatacre at Stormburg, and the capture of
600 prisoners, and on the top of this the
victory which the Boers claim at Magersfontein.
All this is very terrible.  I think I
feel almost as miserable as I did the night I
was captured.  Are the British troops ever
going to drive the Boers back?  Will they
ever come and take Pretoria? or will they,
on the other hand, be driven back, and the
people at home get sick of the war, like in
'81, and--no, impossible--and yet who will
dare predict?  It is too awful to hear all
these shocking reports, and to be able to do
nothing oneself.  One always imagines on
these occasions one's presence at the scene
of fighting absolutely indispensable if there
is to be a victory.  However, these miserable
days cannot last for ever.  Perhaps they are
even now at an end.  De Souza, with a
faltering voice, has confessed that Buller is
advancing at last in great force.  He must win.

'*December* 19*th.*--Worse than ever.
Buller has attacked in full strength at
Colenso and has been defeated with a loss of
ten guns and many hundred men.  This is
too awful--I could have cried.  The hand
of fate seems to be raised against us.  The
only thing to do is to wait patiently till
the next disaster.  The Stormburg prisoners
have arrived, the Colenso prisoners are
expected to-morrow.  Everybody is cursing
the Generals; but they always think they
could do better themselves.  I hear that
Hart's Brigade, with our regiment in it,
were caught in quarter column at close
range.  They must have suffered terribly.
Never mind; Methuen has relieved Kimberley.
The officials all deny it, but it must
be true.

'*December* 23*rd.*--No more news.  The
authorities are getting more and more silly
and disagreeable; all kinds of babyish
restrictions are invented to annoy us.
Churchill has got to Delagoa Bay, and has wired
his safe arrival to De Souza.  Hurrah!

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'I have not dared until now, when all is a
failure, to set down in this book any
account of the one occupation that has
prevented us from going mad with disappointment
in these sad times.  About the middle
of the month Haldane devised a plan of
making a tunnel from under our room
across the road.  The five fellows in our
dormitory and Le Mesurier, who shifted his
abode for the purpose, began about ten days
ago.  First, we thought of cutting a hole in
the floor, but, on looking round, we
suddenly found a trap-door already made.
Beneath the floor there is a curious place.
The rafters are supported by stone walls, so
that underneath there is a series of
compartments about twenty-four feet by four, with
access from one to another by means of
man-holes in each wall.  We commenced
digging in the compartment next to the one
under the trap-door.  The ground at first
was very hard, but with chisels and
implements taken from the gymnasium, we
managed to get down four feet of the shaft in
about four days.  It was a queer sight to
see two half-naked figures digging away by
candle light, for we used to work in reliefs
of two--one to dig and the other to cast
away the earth in boxes or jugs.  Suddenly,
one day, we broke through the hard crust
and came to some soft clay soil.  We were
delighted at this, and expected to get
through it in no time; but, alas! with the
soft earth came water, and without pumps,
bale as we would, we could not get rid of it.
Every morning the shaft was completely
bilged; so, having dug down six feet, our
plan was brought to an end, and we had to
screw up our trap-door again in bitter
disappointment.  The officers of the Gloucester
Regiment are digging too, but they are sure
to find the same difficulties.

'*Christmas Day*, 1899.--I can scarcely
realise that it is Christmas, the day I have
hitherto spent at home with family and
friends.  I can see the rooms decorated with
holly and "Merry Christmas" cut in white
paper and pasted on red Turkish twill
hanging over the doorway.  A Merry
Christmas!  What irony!  The time, of course,
was bound to come when the circle at home
would be broken; but little did I dream
where or under what unhappy circumstances.
A Merry Christmas! to a prisoner--not
when his countrymen, victorious and
full of enthusiasm, are marching rapidly to
his release, but when the armies of his
country, beaten back, lie far away; when,
helpless himself, despair seizes his heart; when
reverses grow into disasters and the might
of the dear old land in which he trusted
seems to have weakened and died.  A
Happy Christmas! with the New Year
black, uncertain, and unknown.  Of course
we drank the health of the Queen at
dinner--in lime-juice.  'Twas all we had; but we
meant it none the less.

'*December* 30*th.*--They say there were
only 1,200 casualties at Colenso; but we
have just heard that ---- and ---- of our
regiment have been killed.  O, God! it
seems too awful.  To hear of all one's friends
crippled or dead; all the best are picked off,
and here are we tied up quite safely with
our beastly skins unhurt, and not likely to
run into the slightest danger while our
comrades are losing their lives.  We must win
this war.

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'*January* 1*st.*--I have had many arguments
as to whether this is the commencement
of a new century or not, and after
much reasoning I have decided that as it is
the year 1900, or the nineteen hundredth year,
it is the last of the nineteenth century and
not the beginning of the twentieth.  Whatever
it may be, this is a hateful place to spend
the beginning of anything in.  The "Volksstem"
printed a list of casualties to-day, and
I see that our regiment lost forty-two killed
at Colenso.  What must the numbers of the
wounded have been?  [Here follows a list
of wounded officers.]  Sergeant Gage was
killed, and they say he was one of the first
to cross the waggon bridge.  This looks as if
the regiment had stormed the bridge, which
is much better than being mown down in
quarter column.  All these losses are
terrible, but I believe that Colenso is only a
reconnaissance in force.  What must a battle be like?

'The last week has been, if possible, more
dreary than usual.  One of the fellows in
our room has made himself very obnoxious
lately, and has had to be sat upon severely.
I have never met such an ungentlemanlike
creature.  It is all the more unpleasant in a
place like this, where we are so closely packed.
There are rumours of fighting near
Colesburg, probably by General French.  The
Boers say the action is indecisive, which
means a victory for us.

'*January* 7*th.*--Nothing of importance
has occurred lately.  There has been a bit
of a fight with Opperman, who tried to take
away from Boscher, the local grocer, his
contract for the supply of our mess, on the
ground that Boscher had helped Churchill to
escape: Result a complete victory for us and
the reinstatement of Boscher.  More Zarps,
as the policemen who guard us are called,
and poor little Gunning have been
commandeered.  He prepares himself to go.  His
reason is peculiar.  Should his children, in
after years, ask him if he fought for the
freedom of the State, he would like to be able to
say "Yes."  However, if he goes I hope he
will find a large rock to get behind and so
come back safely.

'This afternoon a most alarming rumour
was started by somebody, namely: that
Ladysmith had fallen.  Though I did not
actually believe it, we are always having such
frightful disasters that I felt very uncomfortable.
Later, however, we learned that all
was well.

'*January* 10*th.*--Ladysmith has not fallen.
The news of the defeat of the Boers on the
Platrand has been confirmed, and, in spite of
their lies, we know their losses were heavy.
At Colesburg there was a night attack, and
a half battalion of the Suffolks got much
knocked about.  Two of their officers came
in as prisoners yesterday; they say the Boers
have received large reinforcements at
Colesburg.  There is a rumour that Dr. Leyds has
been arrested in Germany for trying to enlist
German Reservists.  A British force is said
to be at Douglas, west of Kimberley.  They
made a night attack and captured some stores
and ammunition.  The Transvaalers in their
excitement succeeded in firing into the Free
Staters, shooting, among others, Opperman's
nephew.  We offered our sympathies, but
after all it is one the less.  This evening we
received a most excellent rumour that the
Boers had lost 900 men near Colenso.  I
hope it is true, and that the Tugela has,
therefore, been crossed.  This will be a step
towards the relief of Ladysmith.  At
Colesburg the Boers are in a critical position.
Things seem to be looking up a bit.  I wish
that we could get just a little truth.  These
rumours torture and deceive.

'*January* 14*th.*--All kinds of startling
rumours have been about to-day: The British
fighting in overwhelming numbers around
Ladysmith; Buller surprised and taken
prisoner at Pieters Station.  Boers in a tight
corner at Colesburg.  What can one
believe?  All men are liars--in Africa!  Life
is getting very unbearable.  I am sure we
shall be a lot of lunatics when we are set free.

'*January* 29*th.*--How we clamour for
news, and how our spirits rise and fall as
the rumours are favourable or bad.  The
other day the prisoners arrived from the
Spion Kop fight.  The result of the attack
on Spion Kop is not known.  We took the
hill, but, for some reason, the rumour goes
that we have left it again and re-crossed the
river.  Can this be another lie?  We hear
that the regiment did not cross the waggon
bridge, but tried to swim the river at Colenso
last month.  Very few got over.  Hensley
was killed the other day at Spion Kop.  One
can scarcely realise these losses, and I don't
think we shall until we join the mess and see
the sad gaps among familiar faces.

'*February* 5*th.*--We have been getting a
fair share of good news lately, or, at least,
good rumours.  The relief of Kimberley is
an established fact.  Colesburg is on its last
legs, though news of its surrender to French
needs confirmation.  There is fighting at the
Tugela, concerning which the latest bulletin
is "British have taken a position--Vaal
Krantz."  Nor is this all, other factors are
at work besides the British Army.  There is
considerable dissension between the Transvaalers
and the Free Staters.  The former
complain that they are always put in the fore
front of the battle, while the latter rejoin that
not only are they invariably sent to the more
exposed kopjes, but that while they are
aiding the Transvaalers to fight in Natal they
are receiving no help in the defence of the
Free State.

'*February* 12*th.*--It would take too long,
even when time is nothing but a curse, to
record all the items of news we have lately
received.  So many startling rumours have
been confirmed and denied that I long to
know what is the real truth, but in the
Capital of this doomed country--in the very
metropolis of lies and liars--we shall never
learn the truth until our friends come to
bring it with them.

'I have just finished reading "Esmonde,"
which I enjoyed very much.  One advantage
of my forced sojourn in this country is that
I may improve my education.  Indeed,
reading occupies the greater part of our time,
though I myself cannot fix my attention on
a book for very long under these miserable
circumstances.  The State Library has a
fair selection of books, and by paying a
small subscription the prisoners are allowed
to take out books therefrom.  The only
forbidden fruits are the books of South
Africa; for these volumes, recording the
evil wrought by the British race on this
chosen people, are carefully stowed away for
fear of the English trying to destroy the
histories of their crimes.

'This morning an officer of the South
African Light Horse was buried.  To all
intents and purposes he was murdered by the
Transvaal Government.  Although he had
typhoid fever he was thrown into prison, and
not until the authorities were pretty certain
he would die was he sent to the hospital.
Ten officers on parole went as pall-bearers
and we all subscribed for a very pretty wreath.

'Patience is played as a game here largely
by ancient Colonels and Majors, and
practised by us all with indifferent success as a
cruel necessity.

'*February* 17*th.*--Good news at last!
Kimberley has been relieved!  Boers are
retiring in all directions.  Lord Roberts,
with the British Army, has entered the Free
State.  Warrenton has been occupied, there
is great consternation in Pretoria.  Opperman
is furious.  Perhaps the tide has begun to turn.

To explain how we get news: Brockie,
a Sergeant-Major in the Imperial Light
Horse, knows a Zarp here and gets a certain
amount of news from him, which is not,
however, very trustworthy.  When we first
came here an Englishman named Patterson,
employed in the Government telegraph
office, used to pass by the railings and
whisper the news.  He only used to come when
there was good news to tell, and generally
ended with the words, Hurrah, hurrah!  Since
he was always accompanied on these
occasions by a large St. Bernard, we called him
the Dogman.  Lately he has elaborated and
improved his system of giving us news and
has begun to signal with a flag from the
passage of Mr. Cullingworth's house opposite.
Either he or one of the Misses Cullingworth
stands some way back in the passage so as
not to be visible to the Zarps and sends
messages, which are read by Captain Burrows
from the gymnasium window.  As he is in
the telegraph office and sees all that passes,
the Dogman sends very truthful information.

'*February* 18*th.*--More good news this
morning.  Cronje is lost, strayed or stolen.
The Boers have been driven back at
Dordrecht.  The British Army is within forty
miles of Bloemfontein.  Buller has taken
the Tugela position.  All this needs no
comment.  "*Quo plus--eo plus----*."  I meant
to quote a Latin phrase--the only one I ever
knew--but I cannot risk the tenses and
moods of he verbs.  It means, however, the
more we have the more we want.  We live,
as it were, from news to news.  Two officers
arrived from Colesburg this morning.  They
say Colesburg has never been quite
surrounded, only hemmed on three sides.
General French began to withdraw his Cavalry
about three weeks ago, sending away
detachments every night until only an Infantry
Brigade was left to sit in front of Colesburg,
occupying exactly the same extent of front
as before.  The Boers never spotted this, so
that French and his Cavalry succeeded in
joining the Free State column, and the
Infantry Brigade, by making a great show of
their forces, was able to keep up the ruse
until the other day, when it was decided to
retire.  Everything went well with the
retirement except for two companies of the
Wiltshire who were cut off and captured after a
gallant fight.  I suppose all Governments lie
to a certain extent about their defeats, but
this Boer one takes the cake.

'*February* 19*th.*--I have caught the
patience disease.  I spent most of the day at
this interesting game, but found by 7 P.M. I
was rather sick of it.  Le Mesurier told me
to-day that Haldane, Brockie, Grimshaw and
he had thought of a plan of escape.  The
idea was to put out the electric light in the
house and in the yard by cutting the wire as
it entered the building in the roof above the
entrance.  The sudden extinguishing of the
lights on a dark night would enable them to
creep to the back wall and climb over
unobserved by the Zarps, whose eyes would not
have become accustomed to the sudden
darkness, They had made small ladders, by
means of which they could climb over the
corrugated iron more easily and with less
noise.  Once outside, they were going to
trek for Mafeking, which is only about one
hundred and eighty miles off.  They had
meant to go to-night, but, though it was wet,
there was too much lightning.

'*February* 21*st.*--More good news both
from Stormburg and the Tugela.  Our friend
Opperman is getting excessively polite.  I
think one can best describe him as a greasy,
unwashed bully, oily physically and morally,
cruel to anyone in his power, cringing to
those he fears.

'*February* 22*nd.*--We hear that Cronje is
completely surrounded.  De Wet tried to
break the encircling cordon, but was defeated
with great loss.  Buller has taken the
Boschkop and all the British troops have crossed
the Tugela.

'A very amusing article appeared in one
of the papers the other day, in which
Napoleon was termed "the Botha of the early
'10's."  Botha the Napoleon of these days is
presumption, but Napoleon, the Botha of the
early '10's!  I cannot help pitying the
editor of the "Volksstem," as he is only
allowed to publish good news, and must
really be at his wit's-end to know what to
put in now.

'Haldane and the others had arranged to
go to-night, but unfortunately the sentry was
walking about the place which had been
chosen for getting over, so that the escape
was prevented.'

'*February* 24*th.*--Haldane and Co. have
tried again.  This time they were determined
to go.  Clough, the servant, was sent up *via*
the gymnasium on to the roof to cut the wire.
I gave the signal by going into the room
under the main switch and asking for a map.
The light went down temporarily but came
up again almost immediately.  We were
much alarmed lest Clough should have got a
shock, but he came down all right, surprised
that the lights had not gone out.  Of course
the escape was off.

'*February* 25*th.*--We were all sure that
Clough had not cut the wires at all last night.
He had received a slight shock and then left
it, so it was arranged that Cullen should try.
However, the position of the sentry again
prevented any attempt.

'*February* 26*th.*--Best, of the Inniskilling
Fusiliers, arrived to-day from the Tugela.
He said that all were well down there, though
the fighting had been very severe, and that the
troops were beyond Pieters.  Cronje had no
food and must surrender shortly.

'This evening the lights went out without
any mistake.  Opperman was greatly alarmed,
and the electrician could not find out what
was up.  They all believed a football must
have hit the wire outside and put the light
out.  Probably Clough had partially severed
the wires, and the football had completed
the damage.  Now, however, the wire being
broken before it was quite dark, the
advantage of surprise would be lost.  It was,
moreover, a bright night, and we noticed that
the light in the streets shone on the wall
where we had meant to climb over it.  The
sentries were doubled, so we finally gave up
the plan and tried to think of another.  We
are told that they will remove us to a new
place on the 1st of March, and, perhaps, this
will give us a better chance.

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'When I went into my room at about 9.30
I found that Le Mesurier, Haldane, and
Brockie were having a discussion.  As we
were to move in two days to the new prison
they argued "why not go to earth now."  The
authorities would think they had
escaped under cover of the light going out
and would, if anything, hasten the removal
of the prisoners, leaving these three under
the floor to depart in peace when
opportunity offered.

'*February* 27*th.*--This morning
Opperman came into our room as usual to count
the number of prisoners in bed, and on
seeing three beds empty he fairly staggered with
astonishment.  I was looking at him with
one eye and chuckled to myself at his
dismay.  He went and asked Brett if he knew
anything about it.  Brett asked innocently,
"About what?"  Then I pretended to
wake up and ask Opperman what the hell he
meant by disturbing us at this hour.  He left
the room in a fury, but presently returned
with Gunning and later with Du Toit, the
Chief of the Police, who examined everything
*à la* Sherlock Holmes, and expressed,
with a smile, his confidence in the recapture
of the flown birds.  After breakfast the whole
house was cleared and searched.  The rooms,
the cupboards, the roof--everywhere except
under the floor.  Then they brought in a
dark lantern, and I really thought they had
discovered the fugitives at last, but Sherlock
Holmes never thought of the floor; his
reasoning did not carry him there.  He
found Haldane's saw made out of a table
knife, and connecting this with the hole in
the roof of the gymnasium, and the wires
cut, he was sure they had gone away in the
darkness.  The rest, such is their mutual
trust of one another in this country, were
quite sure somebody had been bribed.  The
theories of the other officers in the prison are
diverting.  The discussions as to how the
escaped had got out and where they had
gone were full of imagination, but quite off
the mark.  In the afternoon Opperman and
Sherlock Holmes came in with a hat and
said the prisoners had been seen going over
the hills towards Mafeking and had dropped
the hat in question.  By nightfall they had
been tracked to Koodoosburg, about thirty
miles out; and, indeed, the remains of their
midday meal had been found.  O wise
detectives!  This evening the Dogman went
into Cullingworth's house in a great state of
excitement and lit a candle at the verandah--a
sign of good news, and on Majuba day too!

'*February* 28*th.*--We received the good
news which the Dogman's excitement last
night portended.  Cronje has surrendered.
This was received through the British
Consul at Delagoa Bay.  Buller has also driven
back the Boers, and Botha wired: "No use;
Burghers here won't face British."  In the
afternoon we received the following wire:
"Cronje's surrender unconditional.  Boers
retreating on the Biggarsburg," and in the
evening we heard that the British were
entering Ladysmith.

'Three more officers replaced the three
escaped in my room.  We did not let them
know about those underground, but I
managed to send food, news, and water down as
usual, also some hot cocoa at night.

'*March* 1*st.*--Ladysmith is relieved.
Joubert wires: "On Lancers coming out of
Ladysmith my mounted men retired leaving
waggons and stores behind them."  This
afternoon the Cullingworths signalled over:
"No more news, furthest telegraph station
Elandslaagte."  Kruger has gone to the front
to exhort his burghers with texts.  He was
preceded by a telegram which was sent to all
laagers.  It is too long and too profane for
me to copy out.  Nothing but texts and
psalms, showing that they are bound to win
"though the enemy compass them about,"
as the Almighty is their own exclusive and
peculiar property.  The "Volksstem" says:
"There seems to be some foundation for the
rumour that Cronje has surrendered, but the
report that Ladysmith has been relieved is
quite untrue, our burghers are still fighting
bravely south of that town.  Should,
however, Ladysmith be relieved, the war will
only enter upon a new phase.  We will then
have to defend our borders against the
greedy grasp of an unholy race.  Now will
the British see what fighting with the Boers
really is.  Now will the war begin in earnest."

'(Sherlock Holmes & Co. are completely
off the track and all is well below.)

'*March* 2*nd.*--There are no signs of our
moving into our new prison.  This is very
disconcerting as our friends cannot stay
below much longer without getting ill.  The
Zarps' tents have been moved into the road.
Opperman says because the yard was damp,
but I fancy they are afraid of an attack on
the Zarps.  With the dumbbells in the
gymnasium it might be possible to overpower
them.  The day was wet and dreary; I wrote
letters, Mr. Hofmeyr prayed for the
escaped.  I have had to divulge the secret to
No. 12 room, owing to one of them
unfortunately seeing the trap-door open.  They
were very nice about it, and will do nothing
to compromise the chances of success.'

'*March 6*th.*--Our signals this morning
informed us that the President had wired to
Lord Salisbury, "Is it not time bloodshed
ceased?  Will send peace proposals."  These
people have got some nerve.  First they
declare war against an Empire, and then they
expect that when they have had enough
they can demand a cessation of hostilities.
There are no signs of moving.

'*March* 7*th.*--The Ides of March, but I
don't expect Kruger will be murdered in the
forum of Pretoria.  Those below are still all
right, though their condition is not enviable.

'*March* 8*th.*--The following telegrams
were received to-day by our signaller-in-chief
Burrows: (1) Fighting with De Wet;
(2) Occupation of Bloemfontein on the 6th.
I busied myself in drawing a picture of
Kruger going to the front to exhort his
burghers, on the wall my room.  There
seems no chance of moving.  Opperman
says they have not even put down the floor
in our new abode.  Haldane wants to try to
make them move.  He thought that if
Grimshaw vanished too it might alarm the
authorities, and make them anxious to move
us to a more secure place, but I feel
sure--and Grimshaw agrees with me--this would
only lead to the discovery of everything.

'*March* 11*th.*--I drew another large
picture on my wall, a sequel to the first.  It
represents Kruger just escaping from Lord
Roberts, who with drawn sword appears to
be running after him at a good pace.  My
picture No. 1 is entitled "President Kruger
goes to front to exhort his burghers;" No. 2
"But returns on urgent business."

'As chances of a move seem so uncertain
and they are all determined below not to
give in, it has been decided to try to get out
by making a shallow tunnel, roofed in with
cupboard shelves, into the hospital.
Haldane is making arrangements with No. 12
room, who, it appears, are following the same plan.

'*March* 12*th.*--The man who came for
grocery orders reported this morning that
Bloemfontein had fallen, but our signal was
that the British were within seven miles of
the Free State capital.  Opperman saw my
portraits of Kruger this morning; I am
afraid he did not appreciate them as he
should have done.  However, I told him
that with a pail of whitewash and a brush he
might obliterate them if he chose.  (N.B.--Such
is the procrastinating nature of these
Boer-Hollander people that Opperman never
had the pictures removed, and this with
other things had, I believe, a good deal to
do with his own eventual removal.)

'No. 12 decided to have nothing more to
do with the digging plan.  We have
therefore arranged that Grimshaw, Garvice, and
I shall take part in the operation.  Garvice
has not been informed of Le Mesurier's
whereabouts, but has decided to dig.  The
Colonials in No. 20 room are also digging,
but theirs is to be a deep tunnel and I
doubt if they can master the water question.

'*March* 13*th.*--Tragedy.  The Dogman
and Cullingworth have been commandeered
as undesirables, but intend, I fancy, to
escape to the British lines.  We signalled to
him, "Good-bye, eternal gratitude, God
bless you!"  The Dogman replied, "British
twenty miles north of Bloemfontein;
Good-bye; speedy release; will return with Bobs."

'We started our shaft under the big room
No. 16.  Apparently we made a good deal
of noise, for the old Colonels were very
much alarmed and threatened to stop all
digging, though they did not know who the
culprits were.  Opperman came into the
room when mining was in full swing below,
and it was all the occupants could do to
hustle him outside, drowning the noise of
the pick by stamping.  We were rather
distressed and decided to wait a few days.
Garvice was very much startled when he
saw Le Mesurier.  He describes his feelings
vividly.  On going down by the trap-door
he remarked what an awful hole it was.
Suddenly, in the flickering candle-light he
saw a gaunt, bearded, unwashed face, and a
half-naked body.  At first he could not
make out what it was, but when he at last
realised it was a brother officer he said you
could have knocked him down with a
feather had it not been that he was already
crawling on his stomach.  The new shaft is
a long way off; when I went down I had to
crawl on hands and knees along passages
and through man-holes, backwards and
forwards in a regular maze of compartments,
and, indeed, had the candle gone out one
could easily have been lost.  Haldane
looked very ill, but the others, except for
being covered with dirt, seemed well enough.

'*March* 14*th.*--Grimshaw went down this
evening to hold a confab.  They have
managed to dig without making a noise by
wetting the earth.  Grimshaw and I made the
trap-door into one piece by securing the
planks together and also made it so as to
batten down from underneath.  I sent them
down jugs of water during the day to wash in.

'*March* 15*th.*--All went as usual this
morning.  Grimshaw descended and did a
little digging.  In the afternoon Opperman
brought the news that we were to be moved
to-morrow!  Most of the officers were very
annoyed, but Grimshaw and I sent the
information below with gladness.  Well, there
was no time to be lost.  Food enough to
last them a week, all the bottles filled with
water, and everything that could possibly be
of any use to the cave-men was sent down.
We heard, however, and not to our surprise,
that others were thinking of going into their
respective holes so as to escape after we had
moved.  As this could have had no other
effect than to cause the discovery all, we
were determined if possible to stop it.  We
told Colonel Hunt, and he managed to
persuade all concerned to abandon their
schemes.

'This settled, we set to work, after final
good-byes and handshakings, to putty up
the cracks between the boards of the
trap-door, which had already been fastened down
from underneath.  This we succeeded in
doing to perfection, and after covering the
place well with dust, the trap-door could
scarcely have been located by anyone;
certainly not by those who did not know of its
existence.

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   \*      \*      \*      \*      \*

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'*March* 16*th.*--The Staats Model School
at an early hour was more than usually busy.
We were all packing up such belongings as
we had.  I rolled everything in my mattress
and rugs, and secured with rope.  Then the
gates were opened and all baggage was
moved out on the road ready to be packed
on the trolleys provided for the occasion.  To
be outside those gates was to breathe fresh
air; to pass those barriers which had so long
defied our efforts and our wits was like going
out into another world.  I went back into my
room, and by prearranged taps on the floor
Grimshaw signalled that all was well.  I then
sang "For Auld Lang Syne" as a parting
farewell.

'The Government had generously provided
cabs for the convenience of the officers
(who afterwards found they had to pay), and
at about 10 A.M. the first cabs rolled off amid
the friendly farewells of many neighbours.
The long column of vehicles was escorted
by a motley guard, consisting of very old men
and tiny boys armed with Sniders and
sporting guns of ancient pattern.

'We soon passed out of the town and,
crossing a small river, began to crawl up a
steep hill.  The roads outside of Pretoria
appear very much neglected, but, of course,
the money that should have been devoted to
general improvements was all spent in secret
service or in preparations for the war.  We
soon arrived at our destination.  The building
stands halfway up the side of a hill, and
is probably a much healthier place than the
Model School.  Besides, the view is really
pretty.  To the north, indeed, it is limited
by the tops of two hills.  Southward lies
Pretoria, a collection of large Government
buildings and of small villas amid masses of
trees, nestling beneath a high range of hills,
along the crest of which rise the famous forts.
The view on the west is merely a vast plain
which reaches to the horizon, and a large hill
obliterates any view to the east.

'The place itself consists merely of a long
white shanty with a fairly large compound
enclosed by formidable barbed-wire entanglements.
Outside are Opperman's house and
the Zarps' tents.  There are electric lights all
round the enclosure, making escape a matter
of considerable difficulty.  Inside, the place
looked more like a cattle-shed than
anything else.  A long galvanised-iron building,
divided into a servants' compartment and
kitchen, eating  rooms, sleeping  room, and
four small bath-rooms.  The sleeping-hall is
eighty-five by thirty yards long and
accommodates 120 officers, our beds being, roughly,
a yard apart.  There is no flooring.  The
drains consist of open ditches, while the
sanitary arrangements are enough to disgust any
civilised being.  A strong protest was at
once sent in to the authorities, but I doubt
that it will have any effect.

'*March* 18*th.*--The greatest disadvantage
of this place over the Staats Model School is
that we can get no news.

'*March* 22*nd.*--Gunning gave us a small
baboon the other day, which was very fierce
at first, but has tamed wonderfully.  There
are many different kinds of curious insects
here, not curious for this country, of course,
but which I have never seen before.  The
"Praying Mantis" or "Kaffir God" is one of
the queerest.  The whole place seems to be a
large ants' nest, and we have often witnessed
great fights between the different kinds.
Snakes also abound.  A night-adder was
killed the other day.  It was about thirteen
or fourteen inches long and very poisonous,
so Gunning says.

'We hear Gunning and Opperman are
going to the front to-morrow.  I am very
sorry for the former, though the departure of
the latter is a great advantage.

'*March* 23*rd.*--The Zarps and Opperman
departed for the front this morning.  Their
place was taken by a new guard selected from
the Hollander Corps.  The Commandant is
a pleasant fellow and a great improvement
on Opperman.

'*March* 25*th.*--We had service as usual
this morning.  This evening an attempt to
escape was going to be made by Ansell and
Co., but it never came off.  There has been
no news of Haldane and the others, so I
suppose they are well away by now.  This
evening the new Commandant had roll-call.
We call him "Pyjamas," because he wears
a suit of clothes for all the world like a pair
of pyjamas.  His real name is Westernant.

'*March* 30*th.*--There has not been
anything very important to record for some days.
On Tuesday an attempt to escape was made
by Best.  While one sentry was gossiping
with another he crept under the barbed wire.
As luck would have it, when Best had got
half way through, the sentry finished his
*tête-à-tête* and returned to his post.  At first he
thought Best was a dog and called out
*footsack*,[#] but seeing he was a human being,
merely told him to go back.  He might have
shot him with some excuse, so Best was
lucky in striking a kind-hearted man.

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   [#] Be off.

.. vspace:: 2

'On Wednesday Joubert died.  In respect
to him we sent a wreath.  I don't think this
will have any effect on the war, as (and the
papers say as much) his moderate attitude in
the recent crisis had taken away much of his
popularity.

'*April* 3*rd.*--Hurrah! the papers this
evening report the safe arrival of Haldane,
Le Mesurier and Brockie at Lourenço
Marques, having travelled through
Swaziland.  We were so glad to hear this news.
Alas!  We also hear that sixteen officers
arrive to-morrow, and that seven guns were
captured with them.

'The Cullingworth girls came up this
evening and signalled with a handkerchief
that Mafeking had been relieved.  I hope it
is true.  We all admire the pluck of those
girls.  We have already collected a large
subscription to get them and the Dogman
handsome presents.

'There was a large swarm of locusts yesterday.
So thick was the cloud that it quite
obliterated the view of the distant hills.  They
continued passing over nearly all day.

'*April* 5*th.*--The prisoners arrived this
morning.  They mostly belong to U
Battalion, R.H.A.; some to the M.I. and
Cavalry.  I have not quite gathered the
circumstances of their capture, but they seem to
have been caught in a trap, owing to the
want of the ordinary precautions.  The
convoy and one battery were practically held up
without firing a shot, but the other battery
got away.  When marched off they heard
that another British force was pursuing so
that the guns may be recaptured.

'They bring very little news; apparently
they have heard nothing about the relief of
Mafeking, though Warren was on his way
thereto.  Roberts has been delayed in his
advance for the want of horses, but as this
has been remedied the forward movement
should begin shortly.  Had the horses not
been so done after Abram's Kraal, they say
De Wet would have been caught and the
war over.  Such is the fashion of war.  If
so-and-so had happened--always "if"!

'There was great excitement this
evening caused by an attempted escape.  The
electric wires had been tampered with, and
at about 10.30, by some device, Home, a
colonial, who is also an electrician, made the
current travel on a shorter circuit, thus
blowing out the main fuse and extinguishing all
the lights round the building.  Hardly had
this happened than two shots were fired in
quick succession, and then another.  The
escape failed, but all got back into the
building unwounded.  Apparently the lights had
gone down, then up for a second, then finally out.

'During the momentary flash Hockley,
of the escapees, had been seen and fired at.
However, "All's well that ends well," though
some say that two bullets went through the
dining-room.  Sentries were doubled for the
night and patrols sent out.

'*April* 6*th.*--How the fortunes of war
vary!  We seem to be going through a
series of small disasters.  To-day the papers
have the report of a "Brilliant Boer Victory,
thirty-six miles south-east of Bloemfontein;
450 prisoners!!!"  The only hope is that the
account is not "official."  But we must be
ready for the worst.  The leading article
says: "Within a few days Roberts will be
forced to evacuate the Free State.  *His
retreat from Bloemfontein will be like
Napoleon's retreat from Moscow*."

'*April* 11*th.*--The prisoners reported
captured some time ago have not arrived yet.
They always seem to be "expected to arrive
somewhere," but apparently have not yet
been actually seen by anybody.  On Saturday
their capture was reported officially.  On
Thursday English wires said that 300 Royal
Irish were surrounded.  To-day they say the
prisoners are expected at Pretoria to-morrow!
Well, we shall see.

'The last few days we have had many
good rumours about the capture of Boers and
British victories.  To-day the papers say
that Lord Methuen is advancing on Boshof
(he must be there by now), and that Colonel
de Villebois has been killed.  He apparently
and his men (100, so they say--probably 500)
were all killed, wounded, or taken prisoners.
A distinguished ex-French officer and his
foreign legion is a good bag.

'The next piece of information is, quoting
from Boer paragraphs or head lines, "Fifteen
hundred English in a corner;" "Brabant's
Horse in a trap."  Then, again, "There is
every hope of their surrender."  So much for
this.  But on the Dutch side we read that all
telegraphic communication with Ladybrand
and the south has been cut, so I rather fancy
the Boers have over-reached themselves for once.

'The Boers have attacked our camps at
Elandslaagte, and because, when they shelled,
our camp tents were struck, they report that
the British fled.  I wonder if Le Mesurier
was in this show.

'In all these fights, as usual, the Boers
"By the grace of God had (about) one man
killed and four wounded."  This is heavy;
generally it is one horse and three mules.
"The enemy," of course, "must have lost
heavily."  So the paragraphs run on.
Many are the funny expressions.  "One
brave burgher succumbed to the explosion
of a bomb."  "One of our guns *in firing*
damaged its sight and one of its wheels!"  They
always end up with "Our burghers are
full of courage, and determined to withstand
the enemy to the last."

'Various officials came up the day before
yesterday to inquire into the causes of the
protest we had sent in, signed by all the
officers here.  They promised that
everything would be seen to; but they are
all--well they are Boer officials, and I doubt if
our lot is to be in any way improved.

'The weather is getting much colder now,
though the sun is still hot by day.  A few
stray shots whistled over the building to-day,
probably "accidentally on purpose."  I hope
they do not begin sniping regularly.

'*April* 12*th.*--Alas! my hopes were
doomed to disappointment.  Eight prisoners
arrived.  They are mostly of the Irish
Rifles; unlucky regiment, twice the victims of
misfortune!  There is among them a
gunner who was on the staff.  As usual, they
bring little news, except a vivid account of
their own "show," which happened when
they were on a bill-posting expedition.[#]  A
cart-load of packing cases came in to-day for
the prisoners of war.  Seven tons have
already been sent to Waterval.  These cases
contained papers, books, cigars, cigarettes,
tobacco and groceries, for which we were
very thankful, the more so to feel that the
people at home had not forgotten the
unhappy prisoners of war.

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  [#] Distributing the proclamation.

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'Since the new year one of the chief
topics of discussion and bets has been: "When
the war will be over."  We have, alas! always
underestimated the length of our stay
here; had the prophecies of the more
sanguine come true, we would have been free
long ago.  Some put the date of our release
at the Queen's birthday; others later, and a
few earlier.  Personally, I have learnt since
I have been here the impossibility of
predicting what the future has in store.  The
day will surely come, though would that
we knew the date, be it months hence, for we
might then cross off the days as they passed.

'*April* 17*th.*--The papers have given no
news for a considerable time.  But rumours
of the wildest description have been spread.
Ever since Friday last rumour has persisted
in De Wet's capture, and, indeed, it seems
possible, even probable; having succeeded
in two captures, General De Wet was
not likely to be allowed to take another
bag without some counter move on Lord
Roberts's part.  The papers to-day say
nothing on the English side about De Wet,
except that no news has been received
from him for a considerable time; but the
Dutch columns express anxiety as to his
whereabouts.  He had surrounded Brabant,
they say, but strong columns came out of
Bloemfontein, and to-day no news has been
got, or, indeed, can be got, from the lost
General.  Rumour also has it that Lucas
Meyer has been captured on the Natal side.

'I have been continuing my sketches and
caricatures pretty regularly.  I have also
been reading more lately.  Being Easter
week, Mr. Hofmeyr held a service on Good
Friday, and administered the Holy
Communion on Easter Sunday.  Easter Sunday!
If somebody had told me when first captured
that I should still be in prison on Easter
Sunday, I should have thought him mad, or
expected to go mad myself.  'Tis well we
know not the future, but always live on
hopes of early release.

'I have written and received a good many
letters.  I think I am quite reforming in the
way of letter writing--that is, I am getting
into the way of writing four pages of tolerably
sensible stuff on nothing at all, which is
a sure sign of a good correspondent.

'Talking of being a prisoner, we have
heard more of those fortunate escaped
Fortunate!  One cannot but think them
lucky, and envy them, now they are free, with
the just credit for their escape.  But how
many hardships had they to suffer?  Well,
to come to the point.  Davy has just
returned from hospital, where he saw
Haldane's account of his escape in the "Standard
and Diggers' News."  The trains did not
seem to fit in, and our friends had a lot of
walking to do.  Le Mesurier sprained his
ankle; food ran out, and they had to live on
Kaffir food.  Finally, getting into a coal
truck, where they were nearly discovered,
they crossed the border at Komati Poorte.  I
envy them; but such success cannot be got
without daring.  Luck has certainly followed
them, but I think their patience underground
won Fortune's favour.

'We hear from Davy that the Dogman
and Cullingworth are prisoners, having been
arrested when trying to escape to the British
lines.  Poor fellows!  Though, as our friends
at home say of us, "They are safer in prison
than at the front."  This saying always irritates
me.  Every letter hints at it, as if safety
were the chief reward one hoped to get
during a war; one cannot help feeling bitter,
though our imprisonment is only the
payment for our very lives.

'*April* 19*th.*--Roulette is in full swing
here.  The arrangements are most ingenious,
and the dining-room after dinner is a regular
Monte Carlo.

'We had a large mess meeting to-day to
appoint a new mess committee, and to
discuss various questions as regards the
expenses, etc.  It was a very amusing assembly,
rather too frivolous to carry any real motions.
Most of the speeches wandered off the point,
and we finally dispersed without deciding
anything of importance.  One thing was,
however, serious.  Colonel Hunt appealed
for further subscriptions for the sick soldiers
in hospital.  They are apparently entirely
supported by charity, and by our subscriptions.
The Transvaal Government (although
boasting to be civilised) does not even
supply beds!  This fact might, perhaps,
disillusion some who are so taken in by Boer cant.

'*May* 8*th.*--We have had an immense
amount of news lately.  Roberts has begun
his big advance.  Brandfort is in our hands,
also Winburg.  The force advancing *via*
Boshof has reached Hoopstad, while the
British have crossed the Vaal at Fourteen
Streams.  De Wet has not been heard of
for a considerable time.  So much is
acknowledged in the papers.  Rumours say
that we are behind Kroonstadt!!  That De
Wet, Steyn, and 8,000 Boers have been
taken!!  The English in the town think we
shall be released by the 24th of May.  A
panic seems to have seized the Boers, and
excited meetings have been held.  Kruger
summoned the Volksraad on Sunday, and
addressed them in stirring words, which,
while acknowledging the serious nature of
the situation, exhorted the burghers to
continue the struggle trusting in the Lord.
General Schalk Burger, while addressing
the townspeople, said that a stand might yet
be made, if not, the independence of the
Republic was at an end.  The Church of
Pretoria has addressed petitions for peace to the
Churches of Great Britain and of Europe
and America.  They pray that this unholy
bloodshed may cease.  Kruger says
"Continue the struggle to the end."  Is it for
England or for Kruger to give in?

'We have started a newspaper; it is
progressing.  We call it the "Gram," because
at the Staats Model School all our news came
in under the popular names of signal-gram
(when news was signalled), Kaffir-gram
(when brought through the Kaffir).  Brockiegram
(when Brockie succeeded in getting
information from the Zarps), and so forth.
Rosslyn is editor; Major Sturges sub-editor.
White, R.A., Wake, 5th Fusiliers, and
I, are the artists.  The paper has been all
written out by Rosslyn, and is now being
hectographed.  We hope to bring out
seventy good copies of the first number.

'*May* 13*th.*--Though two or three
prisoners have arrived lately, we can get no
particular details of the news.  There is no
doubt that a general advance has been
begun, but what point our troops have reached
is uncertain.  Also, it is still a question
whether De Wet is captured or not.  This
morning the most serious rumour came in,
to the effect that Mafeking had fallen, but I
can scarcely believe it.

'Yesterday Mr. Hofmeyr received the
welcome order to pack up his things and go.
He seemed very affected at saying good-bye
and nearly broke down.  We all liked him
very much, and bade him a hearty farewell,
cheering him as he left the enclosure, and
singing "He's a jolly good fellow."  We
shall miss him as well as his services.

'Our paper came out yesterday and was a
great success.  We hope to bring out a new
one on the Queen's Birthday, though it is an
awful labour.

'Life has not been so bad lately.  Buoyed
up with hope of a speedy release, and
occupied with the "Gram," time has passed, in
my case, more quickly.  We had a selling
lottery the other day for the day of our release.
The dates ranged from the 15th of May to
the 15th of August.  The Queen's Birthday
was much in request, while "the field" (any
day after August 15th) went for six pounds.

'The "Volksstem," of course, progresses
as usual.  Having exhausted all other insults
on England, they commenced lately on the
Queen!  During the present British advance
the mendacious powers of the editor are
once more brought to trial, and once more
he has not been found wanting.  The burghers
are full of courage (running everywhere);
even the women wish to fight!  There was,
indeed, a rumour that our present guard was
to be commandeered and the women put
here to look after us.  Poor time for us!  I
fancy we should be all shot!  The Volksraad
sat the other day, and after Kruger and
others quoting a few scriptures the session
of 1900 was closed after sitting two days!

'*May* 14*th.*--So much news has arrived
to-day, that I think I had better inscribe it,
while I remember.  This morning came the
rumour that a good many Boers actually did
get into Mafeking, but, being unsupported,
still remain there.  This evening's
"Volksstem" is truly a wonder.  It gives more news
than it ever has given before.  An attack was
made on Mafeking.  The Boers took a
"fort," but were attacked by night, and lost
seven killed and "some" wounded and
prisoners.  At present Carrington and Plumer
are proceeding to Mafeking by train, so that
it must have been relieved.  Everywhere the
Boers fly, and the British troops entered
Kroonstadt on the 11th inst.  Hunter, with
his 25,000 men, drove the enemy back at
Warrenton, and "the Boers are unable to
resist the advance of the forces at Vryburg."

'"But," says the "Volksstem," "the fact
that Kroonstadt is in the hands of the
enemy need create no alarm.  As we retire our
line of defence becomes less and our
commandos can be concentrated to resist more
effectually the advance of the British forces.
Besides, many things may happen which will
put an entirely new face on the war.  Our
delegation has reached America, &c., &c.
Lord Roberts' hastened advance is said to be
caused by his desire to reach Pretoria on the
Queen's Birthday, but might not the real
reason be the fear of foreign intervention?
Lord Roberts wishes to strike a decisive
blow before his forces are needed elsewhere.
Every day's delay is, therefore, an advantage
to our cause.  Courage is all that is needed,
&c., &c."

'The above is a *précis* of the "Volksstem"
leading article.  Still they harp on foreign
intervention, but from what I gather from
recent Continental criticisms on the war, I
fancy their chances in this line are less than
at the beginning of the war.  As to the
burghers' courage, I doubt if the majority of
them have much left.  For many months the
Transvaal Government have whipped their
subjects to the fight; but even the worm
will turn, and to the simplest, or the most
ignorant, the Government promises and
hopes must seem vain.

'The day of our release is, perhaps,
approaching; but it does not do to be too
sanguine; one never knows where a check may
occur.  Still I "plump" on the end of the
present month.

'*May* 20*th.*--The month is drawing to a
close, and the day of our release is still a
matter of speculation.  News is pretty
plentiful; even the "Volksstem" tries to hide
nothing.  Roberts has made a great advance,
but whether he has halted at Kroonstadt or
not is uncertain.  We all hoped he would
not stop until he had reached Pretoria.

'We have been very much alarmed lately
at the rumoured intention of the Government
to move us to Lydenburg, but at present it
is only a rumour.  If we are moved we shall
have every prospect of being shunted about
the country with guerilla bands of Boers who
would keep us merely as hostages, if,
however, we are kept here we shall have every
chance of being released during the siege of
Johannesburg.  The Boers, it is said, have
decided to hold that place and are not going
to blow up the mines.  The defence of
Pretoria would be impossible with the troops at
their disposal.

'Life goes on as usual.  The only diversion
that has lately occurred was the athletic
sports, which were got up by some energetic
people.  The event took place yesterday,
and, on the whole, was a decided success.
The chief feature, however, of the day was
the betting.  Several enterprising officers
kept books, but Haig, of the Inniskilling
Dragoons, cut the best figure in that line, and
it was chiefly owing to his amusing performance
that the day was a success.  White has
made an excellent sketch of "Our Bookie"
for the next "Gram" number.

'The sermon this morning is worth recording.
The Rev. Mr. Bateman delivered a
most extraordinary speech as part of his
service.  Whether it was meant for our spiritual
edification, or merely intended to convey
news to us under the disguise of a text, was
not quite certain; but, by preaching on the
text that begins "as cold water is to the
thirsty soul, so is good news, &c.," he led us
to believe that we were to be released in a
very short time.

'Roulette has been going very strong.
Large sums have been lost and won.

'*May* 25*th.*--Yesterday we, prisoners of
war, joined with the British Empire all over
the world in the celebration of the Queen's
Birthday.  In our little enclosure we have
quite a representative British Empire--English,
Scotch, and Irish soldiers, Colonials,
South Africans, Australians, and civilians,
and, indeed, we only require a Canadian to
complete the list.

'Yesterday evening we drank the Queen's
health in light port (rather nasty).  The first
drops of wine or spirit I had tasted since the
18th of November.  This was followed by
"God Save the Queen," sung by all with a
heartiness and feeling that I never heard
before.  It must have sounded very well outside.
To us it was as it were "giving vent" to our
imprisoned feelings, while we also found in
it a link with our country, from which we
have for so many months been severed.

'It is now pretty certain that Roberts
is resting his troops, and rumours have it
that the Boers have asked for an armistice.
Whether Lord Roberts celebrated the
Queen's Birthday by a victory or a peaceful
armistice remains to be seen.

'The "Volksstem" considers that it would
be a graceful act on the part of the State
President if he were to wire the Queen and offer
her as a birthday present the unconditional
release of all the British prisoners of war.
As the "Volksstem" is the official organ,
this may quite possibly be merely a feeler to
the public (if public there be in this
country).  At any rate it would be an act worthy
of the wily Boer.  He finds it a source of
trouble and expense feeding and guarding
5,000 prisoners, so he gives them away with
a pound of tea--I mean as a graceful act.
Whether the offer would be accepted is
uncertain.  But we at any rate will be very
happy if the Transvaal Government puts us
over the border.

'The weather (by day) is simply perfect.
Every morning the lovely air makes one
long for a walk or ride, and causes one to
chafe at the inability to roam beyond the one
hundred yards' enclosure.  We are
henceforth to be allowed to have wine, but
personally I shall wait for freedom before I
indulge in that luxury again.  The second
number of the "Gram" came out yesterday,
and, I believe, was much appreciated.'

'*May* 26*th.*--Two prisoners of war
arrived this morning.  They were caught at
Lindley, which the Boers have apparently
reoccupied.  They were taken across country
to the Natal railway, and then conveyed
straight to Pretoria.  They say they have
heard firing at the Vaal, so I suppose Lord
Roberts is there.  The Boers hold a strong
position south of Johannesburg, and they also
intend defending that town.  One of the De
Wets is still on the right rear of our army,
but will be dealt with by Rundle's division
which is coming up that way.  It is said that
De Wet at one time offered to surrender on
condition that he himself should not be made
a prisoner.  But Roberts would receive none
but an unconditional surrender.  Buller has
been ordered to force Laing's Nek at all
costs.  The "Volksstem" says that Lord
Roberts's headquarters are at Honningspruit,
some way north of Kroonstadt, but this is
probably news of some days' standing.
There is also a rumour that our troops have
occupied Potchefstroom.

'*May* 19*th.*--At last our release seems
near at hand.  Yesterday and to-day big
guns were heard plainly in the direction of
Johannesburg, which is now in our hands.
Boscher, the grocer, has just arrived, having
come up by the last train.  He says that the
Dragoons were actually in the streets when
he left.  I fancy to-morrow or next day will
see us out.  Everybody is in the best of
spirits and full of excitement.

'Greatest excitement during dinner.
Mr. Hay and Mr. Wood came in and asked
Colonel Hunt to send twenty-four officers to
Waterval to look after the men.  Kruger has
gone to Holland.  The British are expected
here to-morrow, and we shall be free!  We
sang "God Save the Queen" and cheered
Hay and the Commandant, who made a very
nice speech, saying he hoped to shake hands
with us outside.  Oh! how I longed to see
the old regiment once more!  The
Commandant says that there is still fighting at
Klipdrift, but a force of 4,000 men has
broken through and come here.  I believe
there is a lot of looting going on in the town
now.  Roulette is at an end.  I can scarcely
write coherently, so excited am I.  Fancy
being free; I can scarcely believe it!  Six
and a half months' imprisonment, and about
to be freed!  Thank God!

'*May* 31*st.*--Too premature were our
hopes.  Yesterday and to-day have been
spent in awful suspense.  Distant guns have
been heard, Boers have been seen riding
about, and rumours of all kinds and
descriptions are rife.  It is too awful this final
suspense.  We do nothing in hope of a
speedy release, and we pass the day anxiously
scanning the horizon for the approach of
troops.

'All day commandos have gone through
the town, and one was seen on the plain
coming in from Mafeking.  One commando
came up our way, and we were rather
surprised that they made no attempt to shoot
us.  Indeed there was nothing to prevent
them.  Three prisoners came in.  They were
caught in or near Johannesburg.  That town
was officially surrendered at 10 A.M. this
morning.  The Boers intend making a sort
of stand (one of their usual ten-minute affairs
I suppose) at Irene, a place six miles south
of Pretoria, and a fight is expected there
to-morrow.  Their line of flight is past our
abode and Waterval, and I should not be
surprised if, unable to face and shoot armed
men, some of these foreign ruffians shoot a
few prisoners.

'The town is evidently to be handed over
quietly.  The "Volksstem" is still covering
a sheet of paper with print, but seems to
take not the slightest interest in the war.
They speak of giving up Pretoria as one
of our papers might of a concert.  Well, I
suppose it will come at last, but I shall
heave a sigh of relief when it does!

'*June* 1*st.*--No sign of the British!  But
we expect to hear guns to-morrow.  There
are plenty of rumours about--Roberts
captured, French killed, &c.  There was a good
deal of looting in the town yesterday, and
five men were shot.  Our hopes of a few
days ago have been somewhat damped, and
most of us put our release down at a week
hence.

'The "Volksstem" is remarkable.  The
editor is evidently wishful to avoid his
tarring and feathering, and scarcely speaks of
the war at all.

'*June* 3*rd.*--I have almost given up
looking forward to our release, and have fallen
back into the ordinary monotonous life.
No guns have been heard, and therefore no
serious fighting can have taken place
anywhere near Pretoria.  Rundle has been
reported as having received a check in the
Free State, and Lord Roberts is said to be
still in Johannesburg; otherwise there is no
news at all.  Botha has taken matters into
his own hands, has kicked out the officials
appointed by Kruger, chosen a committee of
his own, and has arranged the defence of the
positions outside the town.  He has therefore
made himself practically President of
what remains of the Transvaal.  Kruger
went off with a million of hard gold, paying
the Government officials with dishonoured
cheques on the National Bank, from which
he has removed all the money.  Every one
of his ministers thirsts for the old man's
blood, and perhaps it were best for him to
go further than Middelburg.

'*June* 4*th.*--At about 8.30 this morning
firing was heard at no great distance, in the
south-west direction--field-guns,
"pom-poms," Maxims, and even musketry.  At
about nine o'clock a shell was seen to burst
on an earthwork on a ridge of hills south of
the town.  Field-glasses and telescopes were
immediately brought out, and we were well
entertained for the rest of the day.  Shrapnel
burst all along the ridges, and presently
lyddite shells were planted on the hills.
The firing seemed very unmethodical, and
the Boers made little or no reply.  On the
western kopjes shrapnel was seen bursting all
over the place, and we expected the Infantry
to attack them.  But the lyddite shells were
certainly the most interesting.  They burst
with a tremendous noise, throwing up clouds
of brownish earth.  For some time the forts
seemed the mark our gunners were aiming
at, and these costly erections certainly
received their share--four shells pitching well
inside the west fort; but, later, the shells
were directed on the eastern outskirts of the
town.  Whether these were intended for
the railway station, we could not make out;
but, otherwise, they seemed to have no
object.  At about 4.30 the Boers were seen
leaving the western ridges and trekking at a
remarkable pace across the plain, disappearing
along the northern road.  The day's
action was ended by a kind of *feu de joie* of
lyddite shells, which struck the two forts
and the surrounding hills.  Then peace
ensued.  The last few shots seemed to have
been fired by guns which were much closer
than at the commencement of the bombardment,
and the flight of the projectiles, which
we could distinctly hear, passed from west
to east, so that we hope our troops have
occupied the hills on the west.

'The hills are burning to-night, and the
scene is strangely illuminated in honour of
our approaching rescue.

'*June* 5*th.*--A day of strangely mingled
hopes and fears.  This morning at about 1.30
the Commandant awoke us and ordered us
to pack up at once and prepare to march to
the railway, whence we were to be
transported by train down the Delagoa Bay line
to some station beyond Middelburg.  All
were filled with consternation.  To be
hurried away when release was so near at hand
seemed too awful.  Words cannot express
my feelings.  At last we decided to refuse
to go.  Let them massacre us if they dared.
We reminded the Commandant of the
promise made to the officers the week
before that if they restrained the men in
Waterval neither they nor the men should
be transported.  The Commandant replied
that he had his orders and must execute
them, and he rose to leave the building, but
we refused to let him or his lieutenant go,
and held them both prisoners.  The
Commandant said that the guards would soon
come in to rescue him, but he eventually
promised to do his best to save us from
being deported, if we set him free.  Then,
by Colonel Hunt's advice, for we did not
know when a commando might appear, we
returned to bed--you cannot shoot men
in their beds.  And so passed the anxious
hours away till dawn.  With the first streaks
of daylight we scanned the hills anxiously
for the British troops.  We could see lines
of men moving on the race-course, but it
was impossible to make out what they were.
Presently, at about half-past eight, two
figures in khaki came round the corner, crossed
the little brook and galloped towards us.
Were they Boers come to order our
removal?--The advance scouts, perhaps, of a
commando to enforce the order! or were
they our friends at last?  Yes, thank God!
One of the horsemen raised his hat and
cheered.  There was a wild rush across the
enclosure, hoarse discordant yells, and the
prisoners tore like madmen to welcome the
first of their deliverers.

'Who should I see on reaching the gate
but Churchill, who, with his cousin, the
Duke of Marlborough, had galloped on in
front of the army to bring us the good
tidings.  It is impossible to describe our
feelings on being freed.  I can scarcely
believe it, after seven months' imprisonment;
the joy nearly made up for all our former
troubles, and, besides, the war is not yet over.

'To close the scene we hoisted the Union
Jack which Burrows (one of the prisoners)
had made by cutting up a Vierkleur, on the
staff whence the Transvaal colours had so
long reminded us of our condition.  I will
not write about the triumphal entry of Lord
Roberts and the army into Pretoria,
because that has been already told by so many
others.

'The Dogman and Cullingworth shared
our good fortune, both being speedily
released from the gaol where they had
languished since their attempt to get through
to the British lines, and with this happy fact
let me end my record of so many weary
days passed in uncertainty, disappointment,
and monotony, but borne, I hope, with
patience, and ending at last in joy.'





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.. _`ACTION OF DIAMOND HILL`:

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   CHAPTER XVII

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   ACTION OF DIAMOND HILL

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   Pretoria: June 14.

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The feeble resistance which the Boers
offered to our advance from Bloemfontein
favoured the hope that with the fall of
Pretoria they would sue for peace, and after the
almost bloodless capture of the town there
was a very general tendency to regard the
war as practically over.  The troops who had
been marching for so many days with
Pretoria as their goal, not unnaturally hoped
that when that goal was achieved a period of
rest and refreshment would be given them.
But the imperious necessities of war
demanded fresh efforts.

The successes gained in the Free State
by the redoubtable Christian De Wet, and
the cutting of the communications near
Rhenoster, awoke everyone to the fact that
further exertions were required.  Though
the Boers under Botha had made but a poor
resistance in front of their capital, they were
encouraged by the news from the Free State
to adopt a more defiant attitude, and to make
what we hope has been almost a final effort.
As to that I will not be sanguine; but it is
certain that, whereas on the 7th and 8th of
June the Boer leaders in the Transvaal were
contemplating surrender, on the 9th and 10th
they were making all kinds of bold schemes
to harass and even entrap the British army.

On the 7th the news ran through the
camp that Mrs. Botha had come through the
lines with some mission on her husband's
behalf, and General Schoeman had himself
made very decided overtures.  On the 8th,
therefore, an armistice was observed by both
sides, and a conference on Zwartskop, where
Lord Roberts was to meet the Republican
generals, was arranged for the 9th; but when
the 9th came circumstances had changed.
The Field-Marshal had actually his foot in the
stirrup ready to ride to the meeting-place,
when a messenger arrived from Botha
declining, unless Lord Roberts had some new
proposal to make, to enter into any
negotiations.  The consequence of this was an
immediate resumption of active operations.

The military situation was, briefly, that
Lord Roberts's army was spread around and
in Pretoria in various convenient camping
grounds, with the greater part of its force
displayed on the east and north-east sides of
the town; and that the Boers, under Botha
and Delarey, to the number of about 7,000,
with twenty-five guns, held a strong position
some fifteen miles to the east astride the
Delagoa Bay Railway.  It was evident that
on any grounds, whether moral or material,
it was not possible for the conquering army
to allow the capital to be perpetually
threatened by the enemy in organised force, and,
indeed, to be in a state of semi-siege.

With the intention, therefore, of driving
the enemy from the neighbourhood, and in
the hope of capturing guns and prisoners,
a large series of combined operations was
begun.  Practically all the available troops
were to be employed.  But the army which
had marched from Bloemfontein had
dwindled seriously from sickness, from casualties,
and, above all, from the necessity of dropping
brigades and battalions behind it to maintain
the communications.  We have already seen
how it was necessary to leave the Fourteenth
Brigade to hold Johannesburg, and now the
Eighteenth Brigade became perforce the
garrison of Pretoria, thus leaving only the
Eleventh Division, the corps troops, and Ian
Hamilton's force free for field operations.

The Eleventh Division numbered, perhaps,
6,000 bayonets with twenty guns.  Ian
Hamilton's force had lost Smith-Dorrien's
Brigade, which was disposed along the line
between Kroonstadt and Pretoria, and though
strengthened by the addition of Gordon's
Cavalry Brigade did not number more than
3,000 bayonets, 1,000 sabres, and 2,000
rifle-armed Cavalry, with thirty guns.  But
the shrinkage had been greatest among the
mounted troops.  French's command of a
Cavalry Division, which should have been
some 6,000 mounted men, was scarcely,
even with part of Hutton's Brigade of
Mounted Infantry, 2,000.  The two Cavalry
Brigades with Ian Hamilton mustered
together only 1,100 men, and Ridley's
Mounted Infantry, whose nominal strength was
at least 4,000, was scarcely half that
number in actuality.  Brigades, therefore, were
scarcely as strong as regiments, regiments
only a little stronger than squadrons, and the
pitiful--absurd if it had not been so
serious--spectacle of troops of eight and ten men
was everywhere to be seen.  It must,
therefore, be remembered that though the
imposing names of divisions and brigades might
seem to indicate a great and powerful force,
the army at Lord Roberts's disposal was
really a very small one.

The enemy's position ran along a high
line of steep and often precipitous hills, which
extend north and south athwart the Delagoa
Bay line about fifteen miles east from
Pretoria, and stretch away indefinitely on either
side.  The plan of the Field-Marshal was to
turn both flanks with Cavalry forces, and to
endeavour to cut the line behind the Boers,
so that, threatened by the attack of the
Infantry in front, and their retreat
compromised, they would have to fall back,
probably without being able to save some, at
least, of their heavy guns.

French was directed to make a wide
sweep round the enemy's right flank north
of the railway.  Pole-Carew, with the
Eighteenth Brigade and the Guards, was to
advance frontally along the railway; Ian
Hamilton to move parallel to him about six
miles further south; and Broadwood, who,
with the rest of the mounted troops, formed
part of Hamilton's force, was to endeavour
to turn the enemy's left.  It was felt that,
important as were the objects to be gained,
they scarcely justified a very large sacrifice of
life.  But though the Field-Marshal would
be content with the retreat of the enemy,
both Cavalry forces were intended to press
hard inward.

On the 11th, the whole army was in
motion.  French on the extreme left of the
British front, which was extended from flank
to flank about sixteen miles, soon came in
contact with the Boers, occupying strong
defensive positions, and he became sharply
engaged.  During the day he continued to
persevere, but it was not until nightfall that
he was able to make any progress.  Pole-Carew,
with the Eleventh Division, moved
eastward along the railway, extended in
battle formation, and engaged the enemy
with his long-range guns, to which the Boers
replied with corresponding pieces, including
a 6-in. gun mounted on a railway truck.
Though an intermittent bombardment
continued throughout the day, the operations in
the centre were confined to a demonstration.

Meanwhile Broadwood and Ian Hamilton,
advancing on the right, found that the
Boers, besides occupying the whole line of
the Diamond Hill plateau, had also extended
their left flank, which was composed of the
Heidelburg commando and other South
Transvaal burghers, far beyond the reach of
any turning movement, and for this reason
the operations to the British right and right
centre became of a piercing rather than
of an enveloping nature.  Hamilton
endeavoured to hold off the enemy's unduly
extended left by detaching a battalion, two
field guns, and Gordon's Cavalry Brigade
with its horse battery, in the direction of the
Tigerspoorte ridges.  Ridley's Brigade of
Mounted Infantry curved inwards towards
the railway, and while these two forces
struck out, like the arms of a swimmer,
Broadwood's Brigade was intended to push
through the gap thus made.

A dropping musketry and artillery fire
began shortly after eight o'clock along the
front of the force engaged in containing the
Boers near Tigerspoorte, and half an hour
later Ridley's Brigade was engaged along the
southern slopes of Diamond Hill.  Meanwhile,
Broadwood was advancing steadily to
the eastward, and crossing a difficult spruit
debouched into a wide, smooth, grass plain,
surrounded by hills of varying height, at the
eastern end of which was a narrow gap.
Through this the line of march to the railway
lay.  He became immediately engaged with
the Boers round the whole three-quarters of
the circle, and a scattered action, presenting
to a distant observer no picturesque features,
and yet abounding in striking incidents,
began.  The Boers brought seven guns, so
far as we could observe, against him, and
since the fire of these pieces was of a
converging nature, the Cavalry was soon
exposed to a heavy bombardment.

In spite of this, Broadwood continued to
push on.  The country was well suited for
Cavalry action, and the gap, or 'poorte,' as
it is called in this country, plainly visible
among the hills to the eastward, encouraged
him to try to break through.  Accordingly,
at about eleven o'clock, he brought two
horse-guns, under Lieutenant Conolly,[#] into
a very forward position, with the design of
clearing his road by their fire.  The Boers,
however, fought with a stubbornness and
dash which had long been absent from their
tactics.  They were in this part of the field
largely composed of Germans and other
foreigners, of colonial rebels, and of various
types of irreconcilables.

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   [#] A younger brother of that brilliant officer of the Scots Greys,
   whose death at Nitral Nek a few weeks later was so great a loss
   to his friends, his regiment, and his country.

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No sooner had these two guns come into
action than a very ugly attack was made on
them.  The ridge from which they were
firing was one of those gentle swells of ground
which, curving everywhere, nowhere allows
a very extended view; and the Boers, about
200 strong, dashed forward with the greatest
boldness in the hope of bringing a close
musketry fire to bear on the gunners and of
capturing their pieces.  So sudden was the
attack that their heads were seen appearing
over the grass scarcely 300 yards away.  In
these circumstances the guns fired case shot,
but though they prevented the Boers from
coming nearer, it was evident that the
position was still critical.  Broadwood was
compelled, therefore, to ask the 12th Lancers to
charge.

.. _`Plan of the Operations of 11th and 12th of June, 1900`:

.. figure:: images/img-384.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: PLAN OF THE OPERATIONS OF 11TH AND 12TH JUNE, 1900

   PLAN OF THE OPERATIONS OF 11TH AND 12TH JUNE, 1900

The continual shrapnel fire of the last few
hours had, in spite of their dispersed
formation, caused a good deal of loss among the
horses of the brigade.  The Earl of Airlie,
who was riding with the brigadier, had had
his horse shot under him, and had gone away
to find another.  He returned to place
himself at the head of his regiment just as it was
moving forward to the attack, and, perhaps
unacquainted with the latest development of
the action, he gave a direction to the charge
which was slightly more northerly than that
which Broadwood intended; so that, in
advancing, the regiment gradually came under
the fire of the enemy holding the lower
slopes of Diamond Hill, instead of falling
on those who were directly threatening the
guns.  But it was a fine, gallant manoeuvre,
executed with a spring and an elasticity
wonderful and admirable in any troops, still more
in troops who have been engaged for eight
months in continual fighting with an elusive
enemy, and who must have regarded any
action, subsequent to the capture of Pretoria,
rather in the nature of an anti-climax.

Its effect was instantaneous.  Though the
regiment scarcely numbered 150 men, the
Boers fled before them--those who were
threatening the guns towards the south, and
those immediately in the line of the charge
eastward and northward, towards Diamond
Hill.  Had the horses been fresh and strong
a very severe punishment would have been
administered to the enemy; but with weary
and jaded animals--many of them miserable
Argentines, and all worn out with hard work
and scanty food--they were unable to
overtake the mass of fugitives who continued to
fly before them.  A few, however, stood
boldly, and one man remained firing his
rifle until the charge was close on him,
when he shot Lieutenant Wright dead at
only a few yards distance, and then, holding
up his hands, claimed quarter.  This was,
however, most properly refused.  Altogether
ten Boers perished by the lance, and the
moral effect on those who escaped must
certainly have been considerable.  But now in
pursuit the regiment gradually came nearer
to the enemy's main position, and drew a
heavy fire on their left flank.

Seeing this, and having obtained the
object with which he had charged--the
immediate relief of the guns--Lord Airlie gave
the order 'files about,' and withdrew his
regiment before it became too seriously
involved.  As he issued this command he was
struck by a heavy bullet through the body,
and died almost immediately.  So fell, while
directing his regiment in successful action,
an officer of high and noble qualities, trusted
by his superiors, beloved by his friends, and
honoured by the men he led.  The scanty
squadrons returned in excellent order to the
positions they had won, having lost in the
charge, and mostly in the retirement, two
officers, seventeen men, including a private
of the 10th Hussars, who managed to join
in, and about thirty horses.

Meanwhile the pressure on Broadwood's
right had become very severe.  A large force
of Boers who were already engaging the
17th Lancers and the rest of Gordon's
Brigade, but who were apparently doubtful of
attacking, seeing the advance checked, now
swooped down and occupied a kraal and
some grassy ridges whence they could bring
a heavy enfilading fire to bear.  Broadwood,
who throughout these emergencies preserved
his usual impassive composure, and whose
second horse had been shot under him,
ordered the Household Cavalry to 'Clear them out.'

The troopers began immediately to
dismount with their carbines, and the General
had to send a second message to them,
saying that it was no good firing now, and that
they must charge with the sword.  Whereon,
delighted at this unlooked-for, unhoped-for
opportunity, the Life Guardsmen scrambled
back into their saddles, thrust their hated
carbines into the buckets, and drawing their
long swords, galloped straight at the enemy.
The Boers, who in this part of the field
considerably outnumbered the Cavalry, might
very easily have inflicted severe loss on
them.  But so formidable was the aspect of
these tall horsemen, cheering and flogging
their gaunt horses with the flat of their
swords, that they did not abide, and running
to their mounts fled in cowardly haste, so
that, though eighteen horses were shot, the
Household Cavalry sustained no loss in men.

These two charges, and the earnest fashion
in which they were delivered, completely
restored the situation; but though Broadwood
maintained all the ground he had won,
he did not feel himself strong enough, in
face of the severe opposition evidently to be
encountered, to force his way through the
poorte.

At about noon the Field-Marshal, who
was with the Eleventh Division, observing
an apparent movement of the enemy in his
front, concluded that they were about to
retreat, and not wishing to sacrifice precious
lives if the strategic object were attained
without, sent Ian Hamilton a message not,
unless the resistance of the enemy was
severe, to weary his men and horses by
going too far.  Hamilton, however, had seen
how closely Broadwood was engaged, and
fearing that if he stood idle the enemy would
concentrate their whole strength on his
Cavalry commander, he felt bound to make an
attack on the enemy on the lower slopes of
Diamond Hill, and so hold out a hand to
Broadwood.

He therefore directed Bruce-Hamilton to
advance with the Twenty-first Brigade.  This
officer, bold both as a man and as a general,
immediately set his battalions in motion.  The
enemy occupied a long scrub-covered rocky
ridge below the main line of hills, and were
in considerable force.  Both batteries of
artillery and the two 5-in. guns came into
action about two o'clock.  The Sussex
Regiment, moving forward, established
themselves on the northern end of the ridge,
which was well prepared by shelling, and
while the City Imperial Volunteers and
some parts of the Mounted Infantry, including
the Corps of Gillies, held them in front,
gradually pressed them out of it by rolling
up their right.

.. _`Diagram explaining the action of Diamond Hill`:

.. figure:: images/img-391.jpg
   :align: center
   :alt: Diagram explaining the action of Diamond Hill

   DIAGRAM EXPLAINING THE ACTION OF DIAMOND HILL

There is no doubt that our Infantry have
profited by the lessons of this war.  The
widely-extended lines of skirmishers moving
forward, almost invisible against the brown
grass of the plain, and taking advantage of
every scrap of cover, presented no target to
the Boer fire.  And once they had gained
the right of the ridge it was very difficult for
the enemy to remain.

Accordingly at 3.30 the Boers in twenties
and thirties began to abandon their position.
Before they could reach the main hill,
however, they had to cross a patch of open
ground, and in so doing they were exposed
to a heavy rifle fire at 1,200 yards from the
troops who were holding the front.

From where I lay, on the left of the
Gillies' firing line, I could see the bullets
knocking up the dust all round the retreating
horsemen, while figures clinging to saddles or
supported by their comrades, and riderless
horses, showed that some at least of the
bullets had struck better things than earth.
So soon as they reached fresh cover, the
Dutchmen immediately reopened fire, and
two of the Gillies were wounded about this time.

The City Imperial Volunteers then
occupied the whole of the wooded ridge.  One
poor little boy, scarcely fourteen years old,
was found shot through the head, but still
living, and his father, a very respectable-looking
man, who, in spite of his orders from
the field-cornet, had refused to leave his son,
was captured; but with these exceptions the
Boers had removed their wounded and made
good their retreat to the main position.  It
being now nearly dark the action was broken
off, and having strongly picketed the ground
they had won, the Infantry returned to their
waggons for the night.

It was now imperative to carry the matter
through, and in view of the unexpected
obstinacy of the enemy, the Field-Marshal
directed Pole-Carew to support Hamilton
with the brigade of Guards in his attack the
next day.

Early the next morning Hamilton's Infantry
moved forward and re-occupied the whole
of the ground picketed the previous night.
On the right De Lisle's corps of Mounted
Infantry prepared to attack; the Cavalry
maintained their wedge-like position, and
exchanged shots all along their front with
the Boers; but no serious operations were
begun during the morning, it being thought
better to await the arrival, or, at least, the
approach, of the brigade which had been
promised.

During this interval the Boers shelled our
batteries heavily with their long range
30-pounder guns, and General Ian Hamilton,
who was sitting on the ground with his Staff
near the 82nd Field Battery, was struck by
a shrapnel bullet on the left shoulder.
Fortunately, the missile did not penetrate, but
only caused a severe bruise with numbness
and pain, which did not, however, make it
necessary for him to leave the field.  The
case of this shell, which struck close by, ran
twirling along the ground like a rabbit--a
very peculiar sight, the like of which I have
never seen before.

At one o'clock the leading battalion of the
Guards was observed to be about four miles
off, and Bruce-Hamilton's brigade was
therefore directed to attack.  The Derbyshire
Regiment, which had been briskly engaged
during the morning, advanced up a flat tongue
of land on the right.  The City Imperial
Volunteers moved forward in the centre, and
the Sussex on the British left.  Though
this advance was exposed to a disagreeable
enfilade fire from the Boer 'pom-pom,' the
dispersed formations minimised the losses,
and lodgments were effected all along the
rim of the plateau.  But once the troops had
arrived here the fight assumed a very
different complexion.

The top of the Diamond Hill plateau was
swept by fire from a long rocky kopje about
1,800 yards distant from the edge, and was,
moreover, partially enfiladed from the
enemy's position on the right.  The musketry
immediately became loud and the fighting
severe.  The City Imperial Volunteers in
the centre began to suffer loss, and had not
the surface of the ground been strewn with
stones, which afforded good cover, many
would have been killed and wounded.
Though it was not humanly possible to know
from below what the ground on top of the
hill was like--we were now being drawn into
a regular rat-trap.  It was quite evident that
to press the attack to an assault at this point
would involve very heavy loss of life, and,
as the reader will see by looking at the rough
plan I have made, the troops would become
more and more exposed to enfilade and
cross fire in proportion as they advanced.

After what I had seen in Natal the idea of
bringing guns up on to the plateau to
support the Infantry attack when at so close a
range from the enemy's position seemed a
very unpleasant one.  But General
Bruce-Hamilton did not hesitate, and at half-past
three the 82nd Field Battery, having been
dragged to the summit, came into action
against the Boers on the rocky ridge at a
distance of only 1,700 yards.

This thrusting forward of the guns
undoubtedly settled the action.  The result of
their fire was immediately apparent.  The
bullets, which had hitherto been whistling
through the air at the rate of perhaps fifteen
or twenty to the minute, and which had
compelled us all to lie close behind protecting
stones, now greatly diminished, and it was
possible to walk about with comparative
immunity.  But the battery which had reduced
the fire, by keeping the enemy's heads down,
drew most of what was left on themselves.
Ten horses were shot in the moment of
unlimbering, and during the two hours they
remained in action, in spite of the protection
afforded by the guns and waggons, a quarter
of the gunners were hit.  Nevertheless, the
remainder continued to serve their pieces
with machine-like precision, and displayed a
composure and devotion which won them
the unstinted admiration of all who saw the action.

About four o'clock General Ian Hamilton
came himself to the top of the plateau, and
orders were then given for the Coldstream
Guards to prolong the line to the left, and
for the Scots Guards to come into action in
support of the right.  Two more batteries
were also brought forward, and the British
musketry and artillery being now in great
volume, the Boer fire was brought under
control.  Ian Hamilton did not choose to
make the great sacrifices which would
accompany an assault, however, nor did his
brigadier suggest that one should be delivered,
and the combatants therefore remained
facing each other at the distance of about a
mile, both sides firing heavily with musketry
and artillery, until the sun sank and darkness
set in.

General Pole-Carew, who with the Eighteenth
Brigade was still responsible for
containing the Boer centre across the railway,
now rode over to Hamilton's force, and plans
were made for the next day.  It must have
been a strange experience for these two
young commanders, who, fifteen years ago,
had served together as aides-de-camp on
Lord Roberts's staff, to find themselves
now under the same chief designing a great
action as lieutenant-generals.  It was decided
that Hamilton's force should move further
to the right and attack on the front, which,
on the 12th, had been occupied by De Lisle's
corps of Mounted Infantry, that the brigade
of Guards should take over the ground which
the Twenty-first Brigade had won and were
picketing, and that the Eighteenth Brigade,
which was now to be brought up, should
prolong the line to the left.  But these
expectations of a general action on the morrow
were fortunately disappointed.  Worsted in
the fire fight, with three parts of their
position already captured, and with the
lodgment effected by Colonel De Lisle's corps
on the left threatening their line of retreat,
the Boers shrank from renewing the conflict.

During the night they retreated in good
order from the whole length of the position
which they occupied, and marched eastward
along the railway in four long columns.
When morning broke and the silence proclaimed
the British the victors, Hamilton, in
order to carry out his original orders, marched
northward and struck the railway at
Elandsfontein station, where he halted.  The
Mounted Infantry and Cavalry were
hurried on in pursuit, but so exhausted were
their horses that they did not overtake the
enemy.

Such were the operations of the 11th, 12th,
and 13th of June, by which, at a cost of
about 200 officers and men, the country
round Pretoria for forty miles was cleared of
the Boers, and a heavy blow dealt to the
most powerful force that still keeps the field
in the Transvaal.

After the action of Diamond Hill the
whole army returned to Pretoria, leaving
only a Mounted Infantry corps to hold the
positions they had won to the eastward.
French and Pole-Carew, whose troops had
marched far and fought often, were given a
much-needed rest.  Ian Hamilton, whose
force had marched further and fought more
than either, was soon sent off on his travels
again.  The military exigencies forbade all
relaxation, and only three days' breathing
space was given to the lean infantry and the
exhausted horses.  By the unbroken success
of his strategy Lord Roberts had laid the
Boer Republics low.  We had taken
possession of the Rand, the bowels whence the
hostile Government drew nourishment in
gold and munitions of war.  We had seized
the heart at Bloemfontein, the brain at
Pretoria.  The greater part of the railways, the
veins and nerves, that is to say, was in our
hands.  Yet, though mortally injured, the
trunk still quivered convulsively, particularly
the left leg, which, being heavily booted,
had already struck us several painful and
unexpected blows.

To make an end two operations were
necessary: first, to secure the dangerous
limb, and, secondly, to place a strangling
grip on the windpipe somewhere near
Komati Poorte.  The second will, perhaps, be
the business of Sir Redvers Buller and the
glorious Army of Natal.  The first set
Hamilton's Brigades in motion as part of an
intricate and comprehensive scheme, which
arranged for the permanent garrisoning of
Frankfort, Heilbron, Lindley, and Senekal,
and directed a simultaneous movement
against Christian De Wet by four strong
flying columns.

I had determined to return to England;
but it was with mixed feelings that I
watched the departure of the gallant column
in whose good company I had marched so
many miles and seen such successful fights.
Their road led them past Lord Roberts's
headquarters, and the old Field-Marshal
came out himself to see them off.  First the
two Cavalry Brigades marched past.  They
were brigades no longer; the Household
Cavalry Regiment was scarcely fifty strong;
in all there were not a thousand sabres.
Then Ridley's 1,400 Mounted Infantry, the
remnants of what on paper was a brigade of
nearly 5,000; thirty guns dragged by skinny
horses; the two trusty 5-inch 'cow-guns'
behind their teams of toiling oxen;
Bruce-Hamilton's Infantry Brigade, with the City
Imperial Volunteers, striding along--weary
of war, but cheered by the hopes of peace,
and quite determined to see the matter out;
lastly, miles of transport: all streamed by,
grew faint in the choking red dust, and
vanished through the gap in the southern line
of hills.  May they all come safely home.





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.. _`APPENDIX`:

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   APPENDIX

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   *COMPOSITION OF LIEUT.-GENERAL IAN HAMILTON'S FORCE*

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   DIVISIONAL STAFF

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   LIEUTENANT-GENERAL IAN HAMILTON.
   C.B., D.S.O.

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   *A.D.C.s*--Captain de Heriez Smith.
      Captain Balfour, late 11th Hussars.
      Captain Maddocks, R.A.
      Captain Duke of Marlborough, I.Y.

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   *A.A.G.*--Lieut.-Colonel Le Gallais, 8th Hussars.

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   *D.A.A.G.s*--Captain Vallentin, Somerset L.I.
      Captain Gamble, Lincoln Regiment.
      Captain Atcherley, A.S.C.
      Captain Kirkpatrick, R.E.

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   *Provost Marshal*--Captain Sloman, East Surrey Regiment.

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   *Div. Signalling Officer*--Captain Ross, Norfolk Regiment.

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   *P.M.O.*--Colonel Williams, N. S. Wales A.M.C.

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   *Divisional Troops*--Rimington's Guides under Major Rimington, Inniskilling Dragoons.

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   2ND MOUNTED INFANTRY BRIGADE

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   BRIGADIER-GENERAL R. RIDLEY

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   *A.D.C.*--Captain Hood, Coldstream Guards.

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   *Brigade Major*--Lieut-Colonel Mitford, East Surrey Regiment.

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   *Staff Officers*--Captain Sir T. MacMahon, Royal Welsh Fusiliers.
      Captain Eustace Crawley, 12th Lancers.



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   2ND MOUNTED INFANTRY CORPS

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   Lieut.-Colonel de Lisle, Commanding Durham Light Infantry.

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   *Staff Officer*--Captain Fanshawe, Oxford L.I.

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   *6th M.I. Battalion*--Captain Pennefather, Welsh Regiment.

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   *New South Wales Mounted Rifles*.

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   *West Australians*.

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   1 Pom-pom.



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   5TH MOUNTED INFANTRY CORPS

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   Lieut.-Colonel Dawson, I.S.C.

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   *Staff Officer*--Captain Ballard, Norfolk Regiment.

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   *5th M.I. Battalion*--Major Lean, Warwick Regiment.

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   *Roberts' Horse*--Captain Baumgartner, East Lancashire Regiment.

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   *Marshall's Horse*--Captain Corbett.

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   *Ceylon M.I.*--Major Rutherford,

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   1 Pom-pom.



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   6TH MOUNTED INFANTRY CORPS

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   Lieut.-Colonel Legge, 20th Hussars.

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   *Staff Officer*--Captain Hart, East Surrey Regiment.

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   *2nd M.I. Battalion*--Major Dobell.

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   *Kitchener's Horse*--Major Cookson, I.S.C.

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   *Lovat's Scouts*--Major A. Murray.

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   1 Pom-pom.



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   7TH MOUNTED INFANTRY CORPS

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   Lieut.-Colonel Bainbridge, Buffs.

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   *Staff Officer*--Captain Hamilton, Oxford L.I.

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   *7th M.I. Battalion*--Major Welch.

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   *Burmah M.I.*--Captain Copeman.

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   1 Pom-pom.



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   P BATTERY

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   *Ammunition Column*--Major Mercer, R.H.A.

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   *Bearer Company and Field Hospital*--New South Wales Army Medical Corps.



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   2ND CAVALRY BRIGADE

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   BRIGADIER-GENERAL BROADWOOD

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   *A.D.C.*--Captain Aldridge, R.H.A.

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   *Brigade-Major*--Captain Hon. T. Brand, 10th Hussars.

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   *Signalling Officer*--Captain Sloane Stanley, 12th Lancers.

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   *Household Cavalry*--Lieut.-Colonel Galley.

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   *10th Lancers*--Lieut-Colonel Fisher.

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   *12th Lancers*--Lieut.-Colonel Earl of Airlie.

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   *Q Battery, R.A.*

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   *Ammunition Column*--Captain Kincaid, R.A.

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   *Bearer Company.*

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   *Field Hospital.*



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   19TH BRIGADE

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   MAJOR-GENERAL SMITH-DORRIEN

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   *A.D.C.s*--Captain Hood, R.M.L.I.
      Lieut. Dorrien Smith, Shropshire L.I.

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   *Brigade Major*--Major Inglefield, East Yorkshire Regiment.

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   *74th Battery*--Major MacLeod.

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   *2nd Duke of Cornwall L.I.*--Lieut.-Colonel Ashby.

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   *Shropshire L.I.*--Lieut.-Colonel Spens.

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   *Gordon Highlanders*--Lieut.-Colonel MacBean.

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   *Royal Canadians*--Lieut.-Colonel Otter.

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   *Bearer Company and Field Hospital.*



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   21ST BRIGADE

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   MAJOR-GENERAL BRUCE-HAMILTON

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   *A.D.C.*--Lieut. Frazer, Cameron Highlanders.

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   *Brigade Major*--Major Shaw, Derbyshire Regiment.

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   *76th Battery*--Major Campbell.

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   *1st Royal Sussex*--Lieut.-Colonel Donne.

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   *1st Derby*--Major Gossett.

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   *1st Cameron*--Lieut.-Colonel Kennedy.

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   *City Imperial Volunteers*--Brigadier-Colonel MacKinnon; Colonel The Earl of Albemarle.

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   *Bearer Company.*

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   *Field Hospital.*



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   DIVISIONAL ARTILLERY

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   LIEUT.-COLONEL WALDRON, R.F.A.

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   *8lst Battery.*

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   *82nd Battery*--Major Conolly.

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   *1 Section of Five-inch guns*--Captain Massey.

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   *Ammunition Column*--Captain Hardman.



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   EFFECTIVE FIGHTING STRENGTH


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   11,000 Men.
   4,600 Horses.
   8,000 Mules.
   36 Field guns.
   2 Five-inch guns
   23 Machine guns.
   6 Pom-poms.

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   The force left Bloemfontein, April 22.
   Arrived at Pretoria on June 5.
   Distance traversed, 401 miles in a straight line.
   Time on the march, 45 days.
   Halts, 10 days.

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   General actions on nine days:
      Israel's Poorte, April 25.
      Houtnek, April 30 and May 1.
      Welkom, May 4.
      Sand River, May 10.
      Affair of Lindley, May 20.
      Doornkop (Florida), May 29.
      Six Mile Spruit (Pretoria), June 4.
      Diamond Hill, June 11 and 12.

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   Eighteen days' skirmishes.

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   Towns captured:
      Thabanchu.
      Winburg.
      Ventersburg.
      Kroonstadt.
      Lindley.
      Heilbron.
      Johannesburg.
      Pretoria.

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.. _`Map of March from Bloemfontein to Pretoria`:

.. figure:: images/img-map-t.jpg
   :align: center
   :width: 100%
   :alt: Map of March from Bloemfontein to Pretoria (small version)

   MAP OF MARCH FROM BLOEMFONTEIN TO PRETORIA (small version)

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.. figure:: images/img-map.jpg
   :align: center
   :width: 200%
   :alt: Map of March from Bloemfontein to Pretoria (large version)

   MAP OF MARCH FROM BLOEMFONTEIN TO PRETORIA (large version)

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.. pgfooter::
