CHAPTER V

AT CHIEVELEY AGAIN

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

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

SIR REDVERS BULLER'S FORCE

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

THIRD DIVISION.--5th (Hart's) Brigade--1st Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers; 1st Connaught Rangers; 2nd Royal Dublin Fusiliers; 1st Border. 6th (Barton's) Brigade--2nd Royal Fusiliers; 2nd Royal Scots Fusiliers; 1st Royal Welsh Fusiliers; 2nd Royal Irish Fusiliers; Squadron 13th Hussars; 63rd, 64th, and 73rd Field Batteries.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

LADYSMITH

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

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

THE BATTLE OF PIETERS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EXPECTATION

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

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

"Have thoroughly beaten the enemy. Believe them to be in full retreat. Have sent my cavalry to ascertain which way they have gone." Surprise, rapture, prolonged jubilation! Cheer on cheer rose on the clear midday air and rang for miles, till the sick in Intombi camp lifted pallid heads and strained their ears and wondered. Then came the rolling National Anthem and "Rule Britannia," and Sir George White and those around him who had grown old within the spell of those awful 118 days, began to grow young again. And soon the Jack Tars set to work and the Naval guns pounded away with a reckless disregard for ammunition and a zest that did them credit. "One more go at him!--only one more!--only one more!" and "Long Tom," which was in act of being dismantled, was the subject of boisterous farewells.

THE RELIEF OF LADYSMITH

At six o'clock on the evening of the 28th of February all the suffering, suspense, and tension came to an end. The obstinate resistance, the heroic combats, the semi-starvation, the appalling melancholy of enforced exile, all were over.

In the late afternoon those viewing the departure of the Boers from a vantage-point at Cæsar's Camp espied along the hazy blue of the valley horsemen recklessly approaching, riding at full gallop across the open. Conjectures wild were attempted. Hearts began to flutter, to stand still, to beat again with sharp quick thuds. Boers? Or Buller's cavalry? Yes--no--yes! Hurrah! Hurrah! They were coming--the squadron was distinctly visible--they were making direct for Ladysmith. A roar went up from a multitude of throats. The Manchesters on Cæsar's Camp, the Gordons at Fly Kraal, and presently the troops in the town, broke into shouts of exultation. Soon it was known everywhere they were coming--coming--coming--at last--at last! It was quite true. There was Lord Dundonald with Major Mackenzie (Light Horse) and Major Gough (16th Lancers), accompanied by the little column of Colonials, grand gallant fellows of the Light Horse, Natal Carabineers, and Border Mounted Police, some three hundred of them, pounding across the open country as fast as horses would carry them.

In the twilight the troops sped along over boulder and rock, down donga and ravine, reckless of every obstacle, and at last the melancholy perimeter was reached. Then from out the gloom came a challenge. A British voice called "Halt! Who goes there?" A British voice gave answer--the almost unbelievable answer--"The Ladysmith Relieving Army." Four words, just four words! Paradise seemed to be opened. From all quarters came crowding and cheering--cheering faintly with wizened voices of the famished--men battered and almost bootless--happy, yet for all that deplorably sad in their happiness. Tears even glistened on some cheeks and in some eyes--the "unconquerable British blue eyes" of the Ladysmith "invincibles." With a due sense of decorum, and in the determination to give none the precedence, the procession had arranged itself in special order. The Natal Carabineers and Imperial Light Horse riding two and two abreast, with Major Gough at the head of the column, now marched in triumph into the town.

At the English church they were met by General White, the defender of Ladysmith, fevered and thin and grey-haired, yet erect with the carriage of one who, without the strength, has the inextinguishable pride of his race, and the will to bear his country's burden to the last. With him were General Hunter and Colonel Ian Hamilton, heroes of the defence. Each instant the scene gained in colour, in vehemence, in pathos. Cheers and tears were commingled. Women wept unreservedly. Men, to dispose of a lump in their throats, shouted with all the scanty vigour that a limited diet of horse-sausage and mule would allow. But new life coursed through their veins. There was no glow of health on their cheeks, but the gleam of joy in their eyes rendered them young, almost hale. The Kaffirs and coolies gave expression to their rapture by dances and shouts that relieved the almost solemn ecstasy of the moment. Then General White, surrounded on one side by his pallid, worn, and wounded heroes, on the other by the bronzed warriors of the relieving force, made a brief address to the crowd: "People of Ladysmith," he said, in a voice that wavered with the emotion it was needless to conceal--"People of Ladysmith, I thank you one and all for the patient manner you have assisted me during the siege. From the bottom of my heart I thank you. It hurt me terribly when I was compelled to cut down rations, but, thank God, we have kept our flag flying!" Cheers broke out afresh, and then the battered multitude with one voice rent the grey gloom of the evening, and the strains of "God save the Queen" rang forth, till the banks, hollows, and rocks of the surrounding country gave back the glorious refrain. That night Sir George White, with his valorous colleagues around him, gave a dinner to the newly arrived, and these sat down with a feeling of exaltation, almost of awe, to find themselves thus in the familiar company of heroes. And all were conscious of a strange sense of unreality which pervaded the scene. It was almost impossible to realise that the drama was played, that they were about to ring down the curtain on the last act. It was scarce possible to believe that for three months the Natal Field Force had kept at bay a force double its number, had fortified and held a perimeter of fourteen miles against the most fiendish inventions of modern artillery, had made brilliant sorties and repulsed assaults innumerable--two of them being ferocious, almost hand-to-hand combats--had fought and watched and sickened and starved.... And now, all was changed. Those dire experiences were over for ever!

Yet the effect of them remained. As a consequence of the close confinement of some 20,000 persons, disease was stalking abroad, even attacking those who but an hour ago had neared the place. Away at Intombi camp, too, where drugs were scarce, many of the patients--convalescent patients--were sinking for want of the sustaining food which was necessary to recovery. There was regret, poignant and newly awakened, in this moment of relief, regret standing dry-eyed, yet with a grievous ache at the heart--regret that before had learnt to bear and be still. It was impossible to see the glad side without also remembering the deeply pathetic one. The pestiferous atmosphere breathed of fever and disease, and those coming into it realised only too well what havoc such an atmosphere must have played on the sickly and the starved. Besides this there were gaps--woeful gaps. Names that dared not be mentioned, spots that could scarce be looked upon with dry eyes. The bronzed warriors, who day after day had shown tough fronts to the enemy, and whose ceaseless struggles should have hardened them to emotion, now turned aside to conceal the agony of bleeding hearts.

Outside the town, in a sheltered hollow below Waggon Hill, was a pathetic garden of sleep. Here, under the shadow of cypress trees, lay the honoured remains of brave fellows who had given themselves to save the town, and with the town the prestige of their motherland. The earth barely covered them, but for all that their peace was perfect. They had struggled to save Natal, and Natal through them and the survivors was saved. If there is a loophole whence those who have passed on to the Invisible can peer down and observe the issues of mortal deeds, surely in that great hour, those splendid, those self-abnegating ones, who had given their heart's blood for the glory of the Empire, must then have gazed their fill, and in the general rejoicing have reaped their beatific reward.

* * * * *

The effect in England of the news of the relief was truly surprising. The spectacle was unique in the annals of Victoria's reign. On Thursday the 1st of March the whole City of London by one consent burst into jubilation. Every human being, however hard-worked, wore a smile; every heart, however sore, throbbed with a sense of reflected triumph; for all, if they had not been at the front in the flesh, had been there in the spirit these many, many days. Never was such a spontaneous outburst of rejoicing! A nation of shopkeepers indeed! Why, shopkeeping and work of all kinds were forgotten, and in front of the Mansion House crowded the delighted multitudes, oblivious of everything save the glorious fact that British bull-dog tenacity had withstood the most fiendish warfare, and wiles, and wickedness that vengeful Dutchmen could invent.

From north, south, east, and west the people flocked, springing as it were from the very earth. The news came in at 10 A.M. By eleven the City was alive with drama. Hats were being waved or flung into the air, regardless of the effect upon the nap; flags from here, there, and everywhere fluttered--in default of these, other brandishable things were seized. Sometimes handkerchiefs did duty, newspapers, and even parcels and commercial bags; and from tongues innumerable came cheers and shouts and snatches of patriotic song, till an ignorant spectator, if one such there could have been, might have imagined Bedlam to have broken loose. "Rule Britannia," "God save the Queen," "Tommy Atkins," "The Absent-Minded Beggar"--all tunes poured forth to an accompaniment of cheers. The Lord Mayor was called out, and appeared on his balcony. He was forthwith invited to speak. The great man opened and shut his mouth--he was much moved with the general emotion--but no sound penetrated the uproar. Cheers loud and vehement tore the air, and the walls of the civic domain literally shook with the inspiriting fracas. Then for a moment or two there was a lull, and taking advantage of the opportunity, in a short sincere speech the Lord Mayor expressed himself.

"Fellow-citizens, this news of the relief of Ladysmith makes our hearts leap with joy. We are now satisfied that at last our sacrifices of blood and treasure are not in vain!"

Upon that the crowd roared itself hoarse, sung "For he's a jolly good fellow," and never with better cause, for Sir A. J. Newton had put the best of himself into the launching of the glorious C.I.V.'s. By-and-by came, with banners and much ceremony, a deputation from the Stock Exchange, and after them waves on waves of shouting enthusiasts--a spectacle so un-English, so genuine, so unrestrained, that the gloomy decorous regions of the City seemed suddenly to have become things apart, card-houses to fill in the background to a soul-stirring scene. Everywhere, in the alleys of "'Arriet," in the haunts of the "wild, wild West," at the Bank, in Leadenhall Market, and along the Thames, went up the jubilant echo--"Ladysmith is relieved!" Whereupon windows and balconies were dressed, flags, red, white, and blue, and the green of Erin with its romantic harp in the corner, fluttered wings of ecstasy from every British nest, and from every British household there rose unanimously a rapturous cry that was almost a sob, a cry of thanksgiving that the end had come, and that Ladysmith and the honour of the old country were saved!

THE FORMAL ENTRY

It seemed but artistic that Lord Dundonald and his brave irregulars should have met the keen edge of joyous welcome, that the burst of enthusiasm which greeted them should have been the heartiest of which Ladysmith, after a siege of 118 days, was capable. It was right, almost beautiful, that the staunch Colonials, who so well had fought for the Empire, should be the ones to throw open the doors of the dolorous prison, and deliver those who had been not only victims to the devilish machinations of the Boer, but had suffered from the active ache of suspense and the passive one of starvation, from their hellish bondage. Their informal coming was part and parcel of the unrehearsed and the splendid that appeared at every corner in this absolutely incomprehensible war.

The next day things were more decorously done--more English in their reserve. Etiquette and custom resumed their sway, and General Sir Archibald Hunter straightened out the limp backbone of the army, and made soldierly preparations to welcome the relief column. There were cleansings and polishings, washings and brushings up, of a ramshackle kind, it is true, but they savoured of the old parade days returned. Poor skeletons of horses were groomed down, Sunday best was smoothed out, everything was done that the slender resources of the melancholy perimeter would allow. Shortly after noon on the 3rd of March Sir Redvers Buller made his formal entry. His arrival was somewhat unexpected, and there was little effervescent demonstration. Sir George White and Sir Redvers Buller meeting with a handclasp, said at first little more than the familiar "D'ye do?" of saunterers in Piccadilly. What else could be done? There was much to say, so much that must remain ever unsaid, and throats to-day were too tightly compressed in strangling the large and unspeakable emotion to give vent to the infinitesimal resource of speech. Meanwhile the forlorn streets had begun to fill. They were margined by the garrison, and with them were collected such of the sorry civilians as were able to stand exposed to the tropical glare of the sun in its zenith. They came out wondering, almost diffident. Was it possible that the morning message of melenite was no longer to be heard? that the hoarse cadence of hostile artillery was silent for good? Was the open distance really innocuous--clear and peaceful as a Swiss landscape? They scarcely recognised themselves or their surroundings, and looked dazedly to right and left as on a changed world. Sir George White, with his staff, now took up a position in front of the Town Hall, where, backgrounded by the ruined tower--it had been battered, as it were, by the whole armoury of Satan--the broken blue tin houses and the parched trees, the group made an appropriate picture of noble wreck--of aristocratical exhaustion. The relievers, though physically hale, were externally scarcely more presentable than the relieved. The outsiders, it is true, were begrimed and tattered, though robust and swarthy; while the Invincibles, rigged up in honour of their deliverers in Sunday best, and washed and scrubbed to a nicety, seemed--soap-like--to have dissolved in the very process of ablution. No joy of the moment could alter the tale of shrinkage that was printed on man and beast. But jubilation expressed itself in the best way it could. From windows and balconies soon hung strips of colour, national emblems, gathered from hither and thither to mark a rapture that it was impossible for human tongue to describe. From hotels and habitations the citizens began to pour forth and to congregate. And then, when all were collected, the curtain drew up on the most wondrous scene that the nineteenth century has witnessed--the march past of the Ladysmith Relieving Column! Sir Redvers Buller, imperturbable of visage as usual, accompanied by his staff, rode at the head of his magnificent warriors, and leading, in the place of honour, were the valorous Dublin Fusiliers, the poor but glorious remnant, consisting now of 400 of the original battalion who had so grandly acquitted themselves in many battlefields. Next came Sir Charles Warren and the Fifth Division, and afterwards General Barton and General Lyttelton's Brigades--goodly fellows all, who had proved themselves deliberately brave and doughtily undefeatable. Meanwhile the pipes and drums of the Gordon Highlanders, with such vigour as was left them, made exhilarating music, to which was united the clanking and clamping of the Artillery Howitzer Battery and Naval Brigade as they filed past with uproarious martial rampage. Each section was greeted with admiring cheers. The regiments moved along in review order, a superb throng, bronzed, and battered, and brawny, a curious contrast to the pallid and emaciated comrades-in-arms--morally superb too, but physically degenerate--who welcomed them. The spectacle was unique in soul-stirring grandeur as in unspoken pathos.

"A march of lions," said Mr. Churchill, who had played his part with Lord Dundonald's force, and was now looked on as a critic. "A procession of giants," said some one else, who watched the lines and lines of heroes greeting each other with wild huzzas! Friends, kindred, comrades-in-arms--from either side the yawning gulf of destruction, from even the voracious maw of death--they came together again, all jubilant, all generously appreciative, all self-respecting, and glowing with honest and honourable emotion. The Gordon Highlanders cheered the Dublins, the Dublins, with little sprigs of green in their caps, responded right royally to the greeting of the Scotsmen. One battalion of the Devons met its twin battalion: the men of doughty deeds, large-hearted and large-lunged, accosted with zest the men of equally doughty deeds but dwindled frames, whose deep bass notes cracked with the strain of rollicking intention and futile realisation.

While all this was going forward, from the balcony of the gaol a wondering crowd of Boer prisoners looked on agape. They could barely believe the evidence of their eyes: the town was free. Had their compatriots at last turned tail and bolted? They stared down on the vast interminable avenue of men and guns winding through what only the day before yesterday was a fiery concave--watched a continuous moving multitude, tattered and begrimed, saddle-brown and burly--and little by little began to fathom the meaning to themselves of this mighty display. The despised rooineks had, after all, not even been thrust into the sea: in fact, it appeared that the sea had cultivated a trick of casting up rooineks by the thousand, to be killed in scores only to come up in swarms!

By-and-by, when the military parade was over, the Mayor of the town, Mr. Farquhar, presented Sir George White with an address, in which the corporation and inhabitants expressed their appreciation of all that he had done for them in those dark days of durance. Flattering reference was also made to the services of General Hunter and Colonel Ward (A.A.G.). To these officers the General, in reply, alluded gratefully, eulogising the work done by the former, and describing the latter as the "best supply officer since Moses." He then called attention to the stubborn patience of the civilians of Ladysmith, "who had borne themselves like good and true soldiers throughout a very trying time." These remarks were followed by three hearty cheers for the civilians of Ladysmith. The Mayor expressed his pride in the manner the civilian population had comported itself, and the excellent feeling that had existed between both civil and military authorities. He then presented an illuminated address to Sir Redvers Buller, of which the following is the text:--

"We, the Mayor and members of the Town Council of the borough of Ladysmith, Natal, and as such representing the inhabitants of the said borough, beg most respectfully to welcome with great joy the arrival of yourself and your gallant soldiers at our township, and to express to you our most sincere and heartfelt appreciation of your noble and courageous efforts in the relief of this long-beleaguered borough. As members of the great British Empire, as loyal subjects of Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen, and as colonists of Natal, we beg respectfully to tender you our most hearty thanks, realising as we do the magnitude and difficulty of the work you have accomplished. At the same time our sympathies are great for the heavy losses among your gallant troops that have occurred in your successful efforts to relieve us."

The following telegrams were sent to Sir Redvers Buller and Sir George White by the Queen.

To Sir Redvers Buller:--

"Thank God for news you have telegraphed to me. Congratulate you and all under you with all my heart.

"V.R.I."

To Sir George White:--

"Thank God that you and all those with you are safe after your long and trying siege, borne with such heroism. I congratulate you and all under you from the bottom of my heart. Trust you are all not very much exhausted.

"V.R.I."

Reply from Sir George White to the Queen:--

"Your Majesty's most gracious message has been received by me with deepest gratitude and with enthusiasm by the troops.

"Any hardships and privations are a hundred times compensated for by the sympathy and appreciation of our Queen, and your Majesty's message will do more to restore both officers and men than anything else.

"GENERAL SIR GEORGE WHITE, Ladysmith."

The following telegram was received by the Queen from Sir Redvers Buller:--

"Troops much appreciate your Majesty's kind telegram.

"Your Majesty cannot know how much your sympathy has helped to inspire them.

"GENERAL BULLER."

An additional telegram was sent by the Queen to Sir Redvers Buller on the 2nd inst.:--

"Pray express to the Naval Brigade my deep appreciation of the valuable services they have rendered with their guns.

"V.R.I."

Later on a special Army Order was issued as follows:--

GALLANTRY OF IRISH REGIMENTS IN SOUTH AFRICA--DISTINCTION TO BE WORN ON ST. PATRICK'S DAY.

Her Majesty the Queen is pleased to order that in future, upon St. Patrick's Day, all ranks in her Majesty's Irish regiments shall wear, as a distinction, a sprig of shamrock in their headdress, to commemorate the gallantry of her Irish soldiers during the recent battles in South Africa.

* * * * *

Soon after this came the transformation scene. Seventy-three waggon-loads of supplies, eleven of which contained hospital comforts, began to wind into the town. Major Morgan and Colonel Stanley, like fairy godmothers in the story-book, waved the wand of office, and promptly the machinery began to revolve, and manna in the form of nourishing food-stuffs poured into the famished regions. The Boers, too, in the precipitate retreat had left welcome loads of grass, herds, and ammunition--the ammunition of the besieged was well-nigh exhausted--besides individual necessaries which came in handy. But of course, the machinery of relief, well as it worked, could scarcely work fast enough to make an appreciable result, and save invalids who were sinking from the protracted trial. It was amazing how the sick-list swelled. Many who had come into the town jocund and jaunty, found themselves in a few hours clutched by the fell fever. It was enough but to breathe the tainted atmosphere to fall sick, and those who were seized at once discovered all the horror of helplessness in an area where provision for the comfort of the suffering was well-nigh exhausted. Looking back on the past from the new standpoint, the gaps became more than ever remarkable; for, despite incessant fighting, shot and shell were responsible for less lives than famine and fever.

Ladysmith at the commencement of the siege held some 13,496 fighting men and over 2000 civilians. Owing to sickness and hard fighting, the number had diminished to 10,164 men. There were about 2000 in hospital, but the death-rate practically increased only when, after January, food, nourishment of all kinds, and medical appliances grew scarce. At that time sickness of whatever kind assumed an ominous aspect; there was no chance of relief. It was impossible for languishing men to apply themselves to the soup made of old horse and mule, which was gladly devoured by those who had still the appetite without the means of appeasing it. From the 15th of January death stalked abroad uncombated; later he held carnival. Many died from wounds, very slight wounds, received on the 6th of January, from which they had not stamina to recover; the fevered and weakly dropped off from sheer starvation and famine; the gaunt talons needed scarcely to touch them, for they were exhausted, and some of them were glad to go. The deaths as a result of fighting were 24 officers and 235 men, while those attributed to sickness numbered six officers and 520 men, exclusive of white civilians.

The following special Army Order was issued:--

"The relief of Ladysmith unites two forces which have striven with conspicuous gallantry and splendid determination to maintain the honour of their Queen and country. The garrison of Ladysmith for four months held the position against every attack with complete success, and endured its privations with admirable fortitude. The relieving force had to make its way through unknown country, across unfordable rivers, and over almost inaccessible heights, in the face of a fully-prepared, well-armed, tenacious enemy. By the exhibition of the truest courage, which burns steadily besides flashing brilliantly, it accomplished its object and added a glorious page to our history. Sailors, soldiers, Colonials, and the home-bred have done this, united by one desire and inspired by one patriotism.

"The General Commanding congratulates both forces on their martial qualities, and thanks them for their determined efforts. He desires to offer his sincere sympathy to the relatives and friends of the good soldiers and gallant comrades who have fallen in the fight. BULLER."

Less formally and with more warmth the Chief addressed himself to his friends in England. He said:--

"We began fighting on the 14th February, and literally fought every day and nearly every night till the 27th. I am filled with admiration for the British soldiers; really, the manner in which they have worked, fought, and endured during the last fortnight has been something more than human. Broiled in a burning sun by day, drenched in rain by night, lying but 300 yards off an enemy who shoots you if you show as much as a finger; they could hardly eat or drink by day, and as they were usually attacked at night they got but little sleep; and through it all they were as cheery and willing as could be."

Telegraphic wires and cables wore themselves out in repeating congratulation on the relief of Ladysmith. Veritably all the winds of heaven seemed to repeat them. From north, south, east, and west came the chorus of acclamation, a chorus most reviving to the magnificent multitude both inside and outside the place, who had been ready to offer up their heart's blood on the altar of patriotism. Though the haunted and worn look could not die out of the faces of the sufferers in a moment, they had already begun to mend; though the shrunken and emaciated forms could not at once be relieved from the starvation and disease which had wasted them, there was over all a soothing glow of hope that acted magically, beatifically, as the mists of sunrise over a squalid landscape.

On the 9th of March Sir George White, looking much worn, he having suffered from Indian fever brought on by the malarious surroundings, left with his staff. The General addressed the Gordon Highlanders who formed the guard of honour, and in few and affecting words bade them farewell.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] Brevet Lieutenant-Colonel Claude George Henry Sitwell, D.S.O., 2nd Battalion Royal Dublin Fusiliers, was born in 1858, and entered the army through the militia in 1878. His first ten years of service were with the Shropshire Light Infantry, from which he exchanged, in 1889, into the Manchester Regiment. He was subsequently promoted to a majority in the 2nd Royal Dublin Fusiliers in October 1898. Colonel Sitwell had seen a considerable amount of active service, his first campaign being the Afghan war of 1879-80, in which he served with the Koorum Division, and took part in the Zaimust expedition. He accompanied the 1st Battalion Shropshire Light Infantry in the Egyptian war of 1882, and was present at the occupation of Kafr Dowar and the surrender of Damietta. From 1892 to 1895 he was employed with the Egyptian army, and from 1895 to 1898 in the Uganda Protectorate. In 1895, as a captain, he commanded the expeditions against the Kitosh, Kabras, and Kikelwa tribes in East Africa, and was present with the Nandi expedition in 1895-96. Finally, he commanded the operations against Mwanga in 1897-98, including the engagement near Katonga River, and several minor affairs. For his important services in Uganda Major Sitwell was given a brevet lieutenant-colonelcy, and decorated with the Distinguished Service Order.

[5] Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas Martin Gerard Thackeray, commanding the 1st Battalion Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, was born in 1849, and was appointed to the 16th Foot in 1868. In 1876 he exchanged into the 1st West India Regiment, subsequently obtaining his captaincy in the Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers in 1881. During 1880 and part of 1881 he served as Fort Adjutant at Sierra Leone. He was promoted to the command of the 1st Battalion Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers in February 1897.

[6] Lieutenant-Colonel Thorold, of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, who was killed on February 24, became lieutenant on June 13, 1874, a captain on October 25, 1882, a major on July 10, 1890, and was promoted to be lieutenant-colonel on March 4, 1896.

[7] Lieutenant-Colonel William M'Carthy O'Leary, commanding the 1st Battalion of the South Lancashire Regiment, was born on January 6, 1849, and entered the 82nd Foot (now the 2nd Battalion of the South Lancashire Regiment) as an ensign in the old purchase days on April 17, 1869. He obtained his lieutenancy, also by purchase, on February 15, 1871. He was instructor of musketry to the regiment from July 19, 1874, to March 19, 1878, when he became captain, received his major's commission on August 13, 1883, and from the January preceding until January 1888, was an adjutant of Auxiliary forces. He had been lieutenant-colonel of the battalion since November 1896. He was a Justice of the Peace for the County of Cork and one of the Under Sheriffs of the city.