[Illustration: HIS LAST LETTER. ]

FROM ALDERSHOT TO PRETORIA

A Story of Christian Work among our Troops in South Africa

BY W. E. SELLERS

WITH AN INTRODUCTION

BY R. W. ALLEN

WITH FIFTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS

Second Impression

LONDON THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY56 PATERNOSTER ROW AND 65 ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD

Contents

 PAGECHAPTER IINTRODUCTION: THE EMPIRE AND ITS DEFENDERS 7

CHAPTER IIALDERSHOT 19

CHAPTER IIIOLD ENGLAND ON THE SEA 37

CHAPTER IVTO THE FRONT 53

CHAPTER VWITH LORD METHUEN 61

CHAPTER VIMAGERSFONTEIN 77

CHAPTER VIITHOMAS ATKINS ON THE VELDT 96

CHAPTER VIIIWITH LORD ROBERTS 105

CHAPTER IXKIMBERLEY 132

CHAPTER XWITH GATACRE'S COLUMN 129

CHAPTER XIBLOEMFONTEIN 145

CHAPTER XIION TO PRETORIA 161

CHAPTER XIIIHERE AND THERE IN CAPE COLONY 170

CHAPTER XIVWITH SIR REDVERS BULLER 177

CHAPTER XVLADYSMITH 193

CHAPTER XVI'IN JESU'S KEEPING' 222

List of Illustrations

HIS LAST LETTER _Frontispiece_

SOLDIERS' HOMES AT ALDERSHOT _to face p. 17_

OFF TO SOUTH AFRICA _to face p. 34_

PARADE SERVICE ON THE TUGELA _to face p. 53_

REV. E. P. LOWRY _to face p. 84_

REV. JAMES ROBERTSON _to face p. 90_

BRINGING BACK THE WOUNDED _to face p. 118_

MORNING SERVICE ON THE VELDT _to face p. 133_

SOLDIERS' HOME ON THE FIELD _to face p. 138_

ARUNDEL _to face p. 173_

AMBULANCE WORK ON THE FIELD _to face p. 193_

REV. A. V. C. HORDERN _to face p. 195_

ONE OF THE LADYSMITH HOSPITALS _to face p. 199_

REV. THOMAS MURRAY _to face p. 203_

AMBULANCE WAGGONS ON THEIR WAY TO THE FIELD _to face p. 210_

Preface

It would have been a grave omission had no attempt been made at theearliest possible time to place on record some account of the Christiansteadfastness and heroism of the many godly men belonging to every armof the service engaged in the war in South Africa, and of the strenuouswork which they did for their comrades, resulting in many being won forGod, comforted when stricken on the battle-field or in hospital, andeven in death enabled to find the life that is eternal. 

It would have been equally an omission had not some account been givenof the heroic devotion of the chaplains and the lay agents who haveaccompanied the troops in the campaign, sharing their hardships andministering to them under all the trying conditions of their service. 

When, therefore, I was approached by the secretaries of the ReligiousTract Society, through Rev. R. W. Allen, with a view to preparing somesuch record, we both, Mr. Allen and myself, felt that the request must, if possible, be complied with. And we felt this the more, seeing thatthe whole British Force in South Africa has been placed under deepobligation to them, and to the great Society they represent, for thelarge and varied gifts of literature they have sent to our troops duringthe progress of the campaign. 

It was originally intended that the book should have been writtenconjointly by Mr. Allen and myself; but pressure of other work has madethis impossible. I am, however, indebted to Mr. Allen for theintroductory chapter, and for the large stores of information in the wayof correspondence from the Front which he has placed at my disposal. 

I am also indebted to the Rev. Dr. Theodore Marshall for information asto the work of the Presbyterian chaplains. The Rev. E. Weaver, theWesleyan chaplain at Aldershot, has also rendered important help. 

The book has necessarily been written somewhat hurriedly, and by nomeans exhausts the history with which it deals. If, however, it has theresult of deepening the sympathy of all true lovers of their country forour soldiers and sailors, and in increasing the interest they take inthe good work done on their behalf, and if at the same time it bringscheer and encouragement to the men in the Army and Royal Navy who aretrying to live manly, Christian lives, the author of the book and thegreat Society on whose behalf it has been written will be amplyrewarded. 

W. E. SELLERS. _August_, 1900. 

FROM ALDERSHOT TO PRETORIA

Chapter I

INTRODUCTION: THE EMPIRE AND ITS DEFENDERS

The war in South Africa has been fruitful of A many results which willleave their mark upon the national life and character, and in which wemay wholly rejoice. Amongst them none are more admirable than theawakening to the duty we owe to our soldiers and sailors, and thelarge-hearted generosity with which the whole empire is endeavouring todischarge it. 

It is necessary to go back to the days of the Crimean War and the IndianMutiny to find any similar awakening. It was then that the Britishpeople began to learn the lesson of gratitude to the men they had solong neglected, whom they had herded in dark and miserable barracks, andregarded as more or less the outcasts of society. 

The glorious courage, the patient, unmurmuring heroism, the tenacitynot allowing defeat, which were displayed during the long and drearymonths of the siege of Sebastopol, and the ultimate triumph of our arms, aroused the nation from its indifference, and kindled for its defendersa warm and tender sympathy. 

Following swiftly on the Crimean War came the splendid deeds of theIndian Mutiny, when handfuls of brave men saved the empire by standingat bay like 'the last eleven at Maiwand, ' or, hurrying hither andthither, scattered the forces which were arrayed against them. Thesympathy which the Crimean War had produced was intensified by theseevents, and the duty of caring for those who thus dared to endure and todie was still more borne in upon the heart of the nation. 

=Changed Estimate of our Soldiers and Sailors. =

It came to be discovered that though the British soldier andman-of-war's man were rough, and in some instances godless to the extentof being obscene, vicious, and debauched, they were, to use the phrasewhich Sir Alfred Milner has made historic, possessed of a 'great reserveof goodness'; that they were capable not only of good, but of God. As itwere by fire the latent nobility of our nature was discovered, and thefine gold, and the image and superscription of God were revealed, inmany instances to the men themselves, and in great measure to the nationat large. 

There were many circumstances which aided in this awakening, both in theWar and in the Mutiny. Among them may be reckoned the terrible hurricanewhich wrecked the transports in the harbour at Balaclava, when so manyof the stores intended for the troops were destroyed; and the awfulwinter which followed, with its numberless deaths in action, and byhunger, cold, and disease. The horrors of Cawnpore, and the glorioustragedy of Lucknow, also compelled attention to the men who wereinvolved in them, and to their comrades who survived. 

=Their Deplorable Condition in the Past. =

Previous to these times nothing could well have been more deplorablethan the condition of the soldier or the sailor. It was on all handstaken for granted that he was bad, and, wonderful to say, he wasprovided for accordingly. His treatment was a disgrace. Thebarrack-room, with its corners curtained off as married quarters, thelash, the hideous and degrading medical inspection--samples of thegeneral treatment--all tended to destroy what remained of manlyself-respect and virtue. Whilst the neighbourhood of the barracks andthe naval ports, teeming with public-houses and brothels, still furtheraided the degradation. The creed of the nation, or rather, the opinionthat was tacitly accepted, would be best expressed in the familiarsaying that 'the bigger the blackguard, the better the soldier. '

=Their Devotion to Duty. =

Nevertheless, amidst all these evil conditions, not only did courage andloyalty to duty survive, but even, in many instances, a chivalroustenderness and devotion. There were to be found many earnest Christianmen, and the work of God went on, comrade winning comrade to Christ, sothat it was rare indeed to find a regiment or a man-of-war which had notin it a living Church. 

What, for instance, can well be more interesting or significant than therecord which tells of the men on the Victory, Lord Nelson's flag-ship atTrafalgar, who had no need to be sworn at to be made to do their duty, who amidst much persecution sang their hymns and prayed, and lived theircleanly, holy lives; who attracted Lord Nelson's attention, and so wonhis respect that he gave them a mess to themselves, and ordered thatthey should not be interfered with in their devotions? Or than therecord of the godly sergeants of the 3rd Grenadiers at Waterloo, whowent into action praying that it might be given to them to aid in thefinal overthrow of the tyrant who threatened the liberties of the world?

But returning to the Crimean War and the Mutiny, there were not wantingeven then men and women in foremost places to voice the awakening whichthese created, and to give it right and wise direction. 

=The Queen's Care of her Men. =

The care of the Queen for her soldiers and sailors in those early days, which she has continued with wonderful tact and tenderness throughouther long and glorious reign, was of untold advantage. Her sympathyshowed the nation where its heart should go and where its hand shouldhelp. 

The send-off from the courtyard of Buckingham Palace; the review of thebattle-worn heroes in the Palace itself, when she decorated them withtheir well-earned honours; her constant visits to the hospitals, wereincidents which the nation could not forget. In them, as in so manyother ways, she awakened her people from their apathy, and by herexample led them to a higher and more Christian patriotism. 

=The Netley and Herbert Hospitals. =

There was also the noble man whose monument adorns the Quadrangle of theWar Office, who was War Minister at the time. But perhaps foremost ofall, save the Queen herself, was the 'Lady of the Lamp, ' who, surrendering the comfort of a refined and beautiful home, went out tothe hospitals at Scutari to minister to the wounded and thefever-stricken, and found in doing so a higher comfort, a comfort whichis of the soul itself. These two--Florence Nightingale and SydneyHerbert--the one in guiding the Administration, the other inspiring thenation, did imperishable good. 

The Herbert and the Netley Hospitals were the first embodiment of thenation's sympathy expressed in terms of official administration--palacesof healing, which have been rest-houses for multitudes of sick andwounded men pending their return to duty, their discharge on pension, ortheir passing to an early grave. 

The Royal Patriotic Fund was the expression of the nation's desire tosuccour the widows and orphans of the breadwinners who had fallen in thewar. 

=The Awakened National Conscience. =

But these efforts, noble though they were, by no means met the fullnecessity. For solicitude on behalf of our soldiers and our sailorsbeing once aroused, their daily life on board ship and in barracks sooncompelled attention. Its homelessness and monotony, its utter lack ofquiet and rest, its necessary isolation from all the comforts andamenities of social life, the consequent eagerness with which themen--wearied well-nigh to death, yet full of lusty vigorous life--wentanywhere for change, society, and excitement--all these things brokelike a revelation on the awakened conscience of the nation. The terriblefact, to which reference has already been made, that hitherto almost theonly sections of the civil community which had catered for them was thepublican, the harlot, and the crimp, that they had indeed been left tothe tender mercies of the wicked, still further deepened the impression. 

At the same time it came to be gradually realized that the splendidmanhood of the army and the navy was a vast mission force, which, if itcould only be enlisted on the side of purity, temperance, and religion, might be of untold value to the empire and the home population. 

It was plainly seen that if left, as it had hitherto been, to thehomelessness of the barracks and the main-deck, and to the canteen andthe public-house, it would certainly take the side of sin; and whilstdefending the empire by its valour, would imperil it by its ill-living. 

All these convictions were confirmed by the record of the noble lives ofheroes, who were Christians as well as heroes, with which the history ofthe Crimean War and the Mutiny is enriched. If a few could thus besaved, it was asked, why not many? if some, why not all? For men of allranks, of varied temperaments and gifts, were among the saved, somewhose natural goodness made them easily susceptible of good, others'lost' in very deed, sunk in the depths of a crude and brutalselfishness. 

=Woman's Work in this Field. =

As might be expected, the first to take to heart these special aspectsof the case, and to embody the great awakening in the deeds of apractical beneficence, were women. Miss Robinson and Miss Weston, Mrs. And Miss Daniel, Miss Wesley, and Miss Sandes will ever live among thosewho set themselves to fight the public-house and the brothel by openingat least one door, which, entering as to his own home, the soldier andthe sailor would meet with purity instead of sin, and where the handstretched out to welcome him would be not the harlot's but the Christ's. 

=The Influence of Methodism. =

It was given to the Wesleyan Methodist Church to take the foremost placein this new departure. Nor could it well be otherwise when the historyof that Church is borne in mind. 

The soldiers and man-of-war's men of John Wesley's time came in largenumbers under the spell of his wonderful ministry. Converted or not, they recognised in him a man; and his dauntless courage, his invinciblegood humour, and his practical sympathy, won for him from many of them asingular devotion, and from not a few a brave and noble comradeship. Some came to be among his most successful preachers, and in the army, and out of it, nobly aided him in his victorious but arduous conflictwith the evils of the time. From Flanders to the Peninsula and Waterloo, and from Waterloo to the Crimea and the Mutiny, the bright successioncontinued. Hence, when the nation awoke to its duty to its defenders, Methodism abundantly partook of the impulse, and threw itself heartilyinto every enterprise which it inspired. 

It was the first Church, as a Church, to commit itself to the policy ofSoldiers' and Sailors' Homes. It passed a resolution at its annualConference to the effect that these institutions were essential to anysuccessful work for the good of the Army and Royal Navy; and it hascontinued, as the years have gone on, to increase the number of itsHomes, until at the present time it has thirty under its direction, established in various parts of the empire, which it has provided at thecost of many thousands of pounds, and which are its gift for the commongood. They are all held on such trusts as secure them for the free andunreserved use of all the soldiers and sailors of the Queen, withoutrespect of religious denomination. 

=The Work of the Anglican and other Churches. =

But Methodism is not alone, as a Church, in this patriotic and Christianenterprise. The Established Church has entered upon it with anever-increasing earnestness, having come, mainly through the advocacy ofthe Chaplain-General, Rev. Dr. Edgehill, to grasp the situation, and torealize that for the men themselves and for the empire it is ofparamount importance that this provision should be made. 

The reflex result of the efforts to establish Soldiers' and Sailors'Homes has also been most beneficent. Speaking at the anniversary of oneof these Homes, not many years ago, Lord Methuen said that they had ledthe way to the improvement which is now being effected in barracks, where the old squalor has given place to comfort, and the temperancerefreshment room, the recreation room, and the library more than holdtheir own against the canteen, and the cheerful and sufficient marriedquarters have replaced the scandal of the curtained corner or themiserable one-roomed hut. 

Nor must the prayer-room now attached to every barracks in India beforgotten, nor the Army Temperance Association, of which the Rev. GelsonGregson was the pioneer, and the illustrious Field-Marshal, LordRoberts, the founder. This association has now, thanks to the sympathyof H. R. H. The Duke of Cambridge when Commander-in-Chief, and to thehearty and constant support of Lord Wolseley, his illustrious successor, been established throughout the whole British army. 

It will thus be seen that the great awakening of now nearly fifty yearsago has borne good fruit, and that in proportion as the nation has risento a higher moral level, and consequently to a juster appreciation ofits duties, the soldier and the sailor have continued to share in itsresults. 

=Christian Work at Aldershot. =

The camp at Aldershot embodies in itself all these changes; and is, indeed, an epitome of the results of this awakening. Anything moredesolate than its aspect when it was first established it would beimpossible to imagine. Long 'lines' of huts, planted in a wilderness ofgorse, heather, and sand, dimly lit, and miserably appointed; 'womenthat were sinners' prowling about the outskirts, and gradually takingpossession of much of the hastily-constructed town, with the usualaccompaniment of low public-houses and music-halls--such, to a greatextent, was Aldershot at the beginning. 

[Illustration: 1. CHURCH OF ENGLAND SOLDIERS' HOME, ALDERSHOT. ]

[Illustration: 2. GROSVENOR ROAD SOLDIERS' HOME, ALDERSHOT. ]

Here then was a sphere for the work of the new awakening. And one by oneall the agencies mentioned above took up their duty, and entered uponthe enterprise. Mrs. And Miss Daniel founded the Soldiers' Institute. The Wesleyans, guided by the Revs. Dr. Rule, Charles Prest, I. Webster, and C. H. Kelly, built their first Home at the West End, where, likeanother 'West End, ' so much of vice had congregated. Subsequently it wastransferred to the site in Grosvenor Road, and another Home put up atthe North Camp, on a site secured by Sir Hope Grant. Then came theChurch of England, with its splendid premises in Aldershot and itschurch rooms in the North and South Camps. 

Meanwhile the camp itself has been reconstructed, so that at last theempire can look without shame upon it; and the brave spirits who firstcaught the awakening, or saw that it should not die, --many of whom havejoined the majority, but some of whom are still enriching their countryby their lives, --can rejoice in the work they have been permitted toaccomplish. 

And the result? 'Ah, sir, ' exclaimed a sergeant, as he entered one ofthe Aldershot Homes, 'you are at last giving us a chance. Hitherto youhave provided for us as though we were all bad, and all wanted and meantto be; and bad we became. But now, sir, you are giving us a chance, andyou will see what will be the result. '

And truly we do; for the life of the nation is enriched, not enfeebled, by the men who return to it from the Army and the Royal Navy. And allranks of society are becoming convinced that religion is the primefactor in the service efficiency and in the national well-being. ThusGod is, after all, seen to be the greatest need, and the one trueenrichment of human life and character--the vital force by which alonethe commonwealth can live. 

The wonderful records which will be found in the succeeding chapters ofthis book, telling as they do of Christian life and service in the SouthAfrican War, will still further show the fruits of this greatawakening. 

Chapter II

ALDERSHOT

A raw, cold morning in the late autumn! A weird-looking train, slowlydrawing into the station out of the mist, with carriages altogetherdifferent in appearance from those we were accustomed to see! Abattalion of brawny Scotchmen, travel-stained and sleepy. And then asomewhat lazy descent to the platform. 

'Twenty-four hours in this train, sir, and never a bite or a sup. Whatdo you think of that?'

But as the speaker could not quite keep the perpendicular, and found itabsolutely impossible to stand to attention, it was evident that he hadhad more than one 'sup, ' whether he had had a 'bite' or not. All alongthe line, sad to say, 'treating' had been plentiful, and this was theresult. 

=Mobilising at Aldershot. =

Multiply this scene a hundred times. Imagine the apparent confusion onevery hand. Listen to the tramp, tramp of the men as they march fromstation to camp and from camp to station, and you will have some idea ofthe hurry and bustle in this camp on veldt during the period when theword 'mobilisation' was on everybody's lips. 

Barrack rooms everywhere overcrowded, men sleeping by the side of thebed-cots as well as upon them; every available space utilised; even theH Block Soldiers' Home turned outside into a tent, that the rooms itoccupied might be used as temporary barrack rooms again. 

Discipline was necessarily somewhat relaxed! Drunkenness all too rife!The air was full of fare-wells, and the parting word in too many casescould only be spoken over the intoxicating cup. It was arough-and-tumble time. Aldershot was full of men who in recent years hadbeen unaccustomed to the discipline and exactitude of Her Majesty'sArmy, and the wonder is that things were not worse than they were. 

Let us look into one of the barrack rooms. The men are just gettingdinner, and are hardly prepared to receive company, and especially thecompany of ladies. They are sitting about anyhow, their tunics for themost part thrown aside, or at any rate flying open; but when they seeladies at the door, most of them rise at once. 

'Yes, it is hard work, miss, parting with them, ' says one K. O. S. B. Reservist. 'I've left the missus at home and three babies, one of themonly a week old. I thought she'd have cried her eyes out when I cameaway. I can't bear to think of it now. ' And the big fellow brushed thetears away. 'It's not that I mind being called up, or going to the war. I don't mind that; but, you know, miss, it's different with us thanwith them young lads, and I can't help thinking of her. '

'Rough? yes, it is a bit rough, ' says another as we pass along. 'I wishyou could see the little cottage where I live when I'm at home, all keptas bright as a new pin. It's well _she_ can't see me now, I'm thinking. She'd hardly know her husband. But there, it's rougher where we'regoing, I reckon, so it's no use worrying about this. ' And, forgettingthe presence of ladies, he started whistling a merry tune. 

It _was_ just 'a bit rough' in those days. But how could it be helped?Aldershot Camp had nearly doubled its normal population, and some thirtythousand troops were crowded in. And this population was continuallychanging. As soon as one batch of troops was despatched, another tookits place, with consequences that, perhaps, were not always all thatcould be desired, but which were nevertheless unavoidable. 

And so day by day we watched the camp gradually becoming khaki colour. At first it was khaki to-day and scarlet to-morrow, as one batch ofkhaki warriors left for the front and others, still clad in theirordinary uniform, took its place. But before very long Pimlico provedequal to the occasion, and khaki prevailed, and in South and North Campone saw nothing but the sand-coloured soldiers. Then a strange, unwontedsilence fell upon us; for they had gone, and we woke up to an empty campand desolate streets, and realized that the greatest feat of the kind inthe history of the world had been accomplished, and 150, 000 troops hadbeen despatched seven thousand miles across the sea. 

=Christian Work at Aldershot. =

But we are anticipating. Let us first introduce you to a bit ofChristian Aldershot during these mobilisation times. The mobilisationdid not find us dozing; and the Churches and Soldiers' Homes, with theirmultiplicity of organizations, did their best to give to Mr. ThomasAtkins a home from home, and never with greater success. 

There is no doubt that the _morale_ of the British soldier is steadilyadvancing. 'They forget, ' said a lad from Ladysmith the other day, 'thatwe are not what we used to be. It used to be that the army was composedof the scum of the nation; some folks forget that it isn't so now. ' Theydo, or, rather, perhaps they _did_ until the war commenced and made thesoldier popular. But the fact is that, especially during the last twentyyears, there has been a steady improvement, and we venture to assertthat to-day, so far as his moral conduct is concerned, the averagesoldier is quite equal, if not superior, to the average civilian. Thisis due in large measure to the officers, who take a greater interest inthe everyday life of their men than ever before; but it is due in evenlarger measure to the great interest the Churches have taken in the men, and especially in the multiplication of Soldiers' Homes. 

At Aldershot there are, in addition to the military and civilianchurches, which are all of them centres of vigorous Christian work, sixSoldiers' Homes, viz. , three Wesleyan, two Church of England, and oneSalvation Army, in addition to the Primitive Methodist Soldiers' Home, now used chiefly as a temperance hotel. At these Soldiers' Homes thereare refreshment bars, reading rooms, games rooms, smoking rooms, bathrooms, and all other conveniences. They are for the soldier--a home fromhome. Here he is safe, and he knows it. They will take care of hismoney, and he can have it when he likes. They will supply him withstationery free of charge. They will write his letters for him, if he sodesires, and receive them also. In fact, while he considers himselfmonarch of all he surveys as soon as he enters, he is conscious all thetime that he must be on his good behaviour, and it is rarely, if ever, that he forgets himself. 

A counter-attraction to the public-house, an entertainment provider of adelightful order, a club, a home, and a Bethel all rolled into one isthe Soldiers' Home, --the greatest boon that the Christian Church hasever given to the soldier, and one which he estimates at its full value. 

During the mobilisation days these Homes were crowded to the utmost oftheir capacity, and chaplains and Scripture readers vied with each otherin their earnest efforts to benefit the men. In those solemn times ofwaiting, with war before them, and possibly wounds or death, hundreds ofsoldiers decided for Christ, or, as they loved to put it, 'enlisted intothe army of the King. '

=Barrack Room Life. =

Somehow or other the average Englishman never thinks of the soldier as aChristian, and soldier poets bring out almost every other phase of thesoldier character except this. As a matter of fact the recruit when hecomes to us is little more than a lad. He has been brought up in thevillage Sunday school, and been accustomed to attend the village churchor chapel. He has all his early religious impressions full upon him. Heis excitable, emotional, easily led. If he gets into a barrack roomwhere the men are coarse, sensual, ungodly, he often runs into riot in ashort time, though even then his early impressions do not altogetherfade. But if we lay hold of him, bring him to our Homes, surround himwith Christian influences, by God's help we make a man of him, and theraw recruit, the 'rook' as they call him, not only develops into aveteran ready to go anywhere and do anything for Queen and country, butinto a Soldier of the Cross, ready to do and dare for his King. 

=An Aldershot Sunday. =

Let me introduce you to an Aldershot Sunday. The camp is all astir at anearly hour. Musters of men here and there on the regimental paradegrounds, the stately march to church, the regimental band at the head. The short, bright, cheery service. The rattle and clatter of side-armsas the men stand or sit. The rapid exit after the Benediction has beenpronounced and the National Anthem sung. The 'fall in' outside. Theringing word of command, and the march back to barracks, amid theadmiring gaze of the civilians. 

All this can be sketched in a few sentences; but we want to give ourreaders more than a mere introduction--a speaking acquaintance. We wantthem to get to know our friend Thomas Atkins before they see him out onthe veldt, or amid the heat of battle. And to know him as _we_ know himthey must get a little closer than a mere church parade; they must watchus at our work for him, they must realize some of our difficulties, andbe sharers in some of our joys. 

Let us then get nearer to him, and in order to this, attempt to get intothe heart of an Aldershot Sunday. And as the most conspicuous andhandsome pile of buildings in Aldershot is the Grosvenor Road WesleyanChurch and Soldiers' Home, and it happens to be the one with which weare best acquainted, we will follow the workers in their Sunday's work. 

=The Prison Service. =

And first of all let us visit the Military Prison. There are not so manyprisoners as usual just now, and those who are there are terriblyanxious to have their terms of imprisonment shortened, in order thatthey may get to the front--not that prisoners are ever wishful to dragout the full term of their imprisonment, but now that all is excitementand their regiments are on the eve of departure, they are feverishlyanxious to go with them. 

And yet it is easy to preach, for in prison most hearts are softened, and just now there are memories of bygone days that make one love theold hymns and listen with more than old interest to old truths. Ofcourse there are not a few exceptions. For instance, you see that tallGuardsman! Guardsman, do you call him? Anything but that in his uncouthprison dress! But he _is_ a Guardsman, and by-and-by will give a goodaccount of himself in South Africa. See how his eyes are fixed on thepreacher. How eagerly he listens to every word the preacher says! Surelythere is a work of grace going on in his heart! And so next morning whenthe preacher and junior chaplain meet, one says to the other, 'I amquite sure Robinson was greatly affected yesterday. He could not takehis eyes off me all the time. He seemed in great trouble. Speak to himabout it, and try to lead him to Christ. '

Hence, when next the Rev. E. Weaver, our indefatigable junior chaplain, visited the prison, he said, 'Robinson, what sort of a service did youhave on Sunday morning?'

'Pretty much as usual, thank you, sir. '

'How did you like the sermon?'

'Oh! all right. You know I've heard him before. '

'Yes, but wasn't there something that specially touched you. Thepreacher said you could not take your eyes off him all the time. He feltsure you were in trouble. '

'Well, sir, I was, that is the fact. I couldn't help looking at him, and I have been thinking about it ever since. '

'Well, now, you know me, Robinson. Cannot I help you? You have no needto be afraid to speak to me. What is your trouble?'

And Robinson looked gravely at the chaplain, and the chaplain at him. And then with an effort Robinson said, 'I've been wondering about it allthe week. I cannot get it out of my head. Don't be offended, sir, however did that 'ere gent get inside that waistcoat?'

How are the mighty fallen! And the poor preacher who, with cassock vest, had stood before that congregation of prisoners, had after all onlyexcited curiosity about his dress. 

But it is not always so, and many a lad has been won to better waysthrough the ministry of the prison. 

=Parade and other Services. =

Then follows the Parade Service, already described, and no more need besaid except that the preacher must be dull and heartless indeed who isnot inspired by those hundreds of upturned faces, and the knowledge thatthe word he speaks may, through them, ere long reach the ends of theearth. 

We will not linger either at the Hospital Service or the Sacred SongService in the afternoon, or at the Soldiers' Tea, or even at theVoluntary Service at night, which, with its hundreds of soldierattendants, is a testimony to the spiritual value of the work. 

=The 'Glory-Room' of the Soldiers' Home. =

Let us rather pass into the 'glory-room' of the Soldiers' Home at theclose of the evening Service. There is never a Sunday night withoutconversions. And they call it the glory-room because

 'Heaven comes down their souls to greet, And glory crowns the mercy-seat. '

Ex-Sergeant-Major Moss is in charge, and as frequent references will bemade to him in the following narratives, we may as well sketch him now. A man of medium height, thick set, strength in every line of his faceand figure, eyes that look kindly upon you and yet pierce you throughand through. A strong man in every respect, and a kindly man withal. Aman among men, and yet a man of almost womanly tenderness where sympathyis required. Again and again in the course of our story we shall comeacross traces of his strenuous work and far-reaching influence. And inevery part of the British Empire there are soldier lads who look uponthis ex-sergeant-major of the Army Service Corps as their spiritualfather, and there is no name oftener on their lips in South Africa thanhis. 

He is in charge to-night, and is telling his experience. He knows allabout it, has done plenty of rough campaigning in his time, but he knowsalso that the religion of Jesus Christ is best for war or peace. Christhas been with him in all parts of the world, and Christ will be with_them_. They are going out. No one knows what is before them, but withChrist at their side all will be well. 

And now a Reservist speaks. He cannot pass the doctors, and has toreturn home; but he tells the lads how he went through the Chitralcampaign, and how hard he found it to be a Christian all alone. 'It isall right here in the glory-room, ' says he; 'it is all right when theglory-room is not far away, and we can get to it. But when you arethousands of miles away, and there are no Christian brothers anywherenear, and you hear nothing but cursing, and are all the time amid theexcitement of war, it is hard work then. Stick to it, my brothers. Beout and out for Christ. '

And then another--an Engineer. 'I was going through the camp the otherday, and I noticed that where they were building the new bridge they hadput a lantern to warn people not to approach. It had only a candleinside, and gave but a poor light. On either side of me were the lampsof the Queen's Avenue, and only this tiny flicker in front. And I saidto myself, "My lad, you are not one of those big lamps there in theAvenue; it's but a little light you can give, but little lights areuseful as well as big ones, and may be you can warn, if you cannotilluminate. "' And then with enthusiasm they sang together, --

 'Jesus bids me shine with a clear, pure light, Like a little candle burning in the night; In this world of darkness we must shine-- You in your small corner, I in mine. '

Then follow other testimonies and prayer, and by-and-by first one andthen another cries to God for mercy, and as the word of pardon is spokenfrom above, and one after another enters into the Light, heaven indeedcomes down their

 'souls to meet And glory crowns the mercy-seat. '

This is no fanciful picture. It is an every night occurrence. The oldtimes of the evangelical revival are lived over again in that'glory-room, ' and hundreds are started upon a new and higher life. 

But it is time to separate, and with a verse of the soldiers' partinghymn the comrades go their various ways, and the blessed Sabbath'sservices are over--over, all except one service more, the service in thebarrack room, where each Christian man kneels down by his bed-cot andcommends his comrades and himself to God. In the case of new convertsthis is the testing-time. They _must_ kneel and pray. It is the outwardand visible sign of their consecration to God. A hard task it is formost; not so hard to-day as it was a few years ago, but difficult still, and the grit of the man is shown by the way he faces this great ordeal. Persecution generally follows, but he who bears it bravely wins respect, while he who fails is treated henceforth as a coward. This testimony forChrist in the barrack room rarely fails to impress the most ungodly, though at the time the jeering comrades would be the last to acknowledgeit. 

At the risk of appearing to anticipate, let me tell a story. 

=Jemmie's Prayer. =

In a nullah in far-away South Africa lay about a dozen wounded men. Theyhad been lying there for hours, their lives slowly ebbing away. One ofthem was a Roman Catholic, who had been a ringleader of persecution inthe barrack room at home. Not far from him lay 'little Jemmie, ' woundedseverely, whom many a time the Roman Catholic had persecuted in the daysgone by. Hour after hour the Roman Catholic soldier lay bleeding there, until at last a strange dizzy sensation came over him which he fanciedwas death. He looked across to where, in the darkness, he thought hecould distinguish 'little Jemmie. ' With difficulty he crawled across tohim, and bending over the wounded lad, he roused him. 

'Jemmie, lad, ' he said, 'I have watched you in the barrack room and seenyou pray. Jemmie, lad, do you think you could say a prayer for me?'

And Jemmie roused himself with an effort, and, trying hard to get uponhis knees, he began to pray. By-and-by the other wounded soldiers heardhim, and all who could crawl gathered round, and there, in that far-awaynullah, little Jemmie 'said a prayer' for them all. Surely a strange andalmost ghastly prayer-meeting that! As they prayed, some one noticed theflicker of a light in the distance. They knew not who it was--Briton orBoer--who moved in the distant darkness. Jemmie, however, heeded it not, but prayed earnestly for deliverance. The light came nearer, and thewounded lads began to call with all their remaining strength for help. And at last it came to them--the light of a British stretcher party--andthey were carried to help and deliverance. 

'And now, ' said the Roman Catholic soldier, who, on his return from thewar, told this story to the Rev. T. J. McClelland, 'I know that God willhear the prayer of a good man as well as the prayer of a priest, for heheard little Jemmie's prayer that night. '

And so the Aldershot barrack room prepares the way for the South Africanveldt, and the example apparently unnoticed bears fruit where leastexpected. 

=The Hymns the Soldier Likes. =

Of all hymn-books Mr. Thomas Atkins likes his 'Sankey' best. He is but abig boy after all, and the hymns of boyhood are his favourites still. You should hear him sing, --

 'I'm the child of a King, '

while the dear lad has hardly a copper to call his own! And how he nevertires of singing!

But the Scotchmen are exceptions, of course, and when, followingmobilisation times, the Cameronian Militia came to Aldershot, they couldnot put up with Mr. Sankey's collection. Rough, bearded crofters as manyof them were, --men who had never been South before, --all these hymnssounded very foreign. 'We canna do wi' them ava, ' they cried; 'gie usthe Psalms o' Dauvit. ' But they set an example to many of their fellows, and the remarkable spectacle was witnessed in more than one barrackroom of these stalwart crofters engaged in family prayer. 

But it is time we saw our soldiers depart. And first there is theinspection in the barrack square, and it is difficult to recognise inthese khaki-clad warriors the men we had known in the barrack room or'Home. ' And then there is the farewell in the evening, and the'glory-room' or other devotional room is full of those ordered South, and there is the hearty hand-shake and the whispered 'God bless you, 'and then all join in the soldiers' good-night song--his watchword allthe world over, hymn 494 in Sankey's collection, --

 'God be with you till we meet again. '

His life is such a coming and going that he would be unhappy unless youclosed every evening meeting with at least one verse, and on theseoccasions, when no one knows whether it will be in earth or heaven thathe will meet his comrade next, it is, of course, impossible to closewithout it. And so night by night before each regiment takes itsdeparture some one starts 494. By-and-by, as the train steams out of thestation, it will be 'Auld Lang Syne, ' but these are Christian men, andthey are parting from Christian men, and so often with hands clasped andnot without tears they sing, --

 'God be with you till we meet again, Keep love's banner floating o'er you, Smite death's threatening wave before you, God be with you till we meet again. '

They will not forget it, these soldier lads, and as they pass oneanother on their long marches across the veldt, unable to do more thanshout a greeting to some old friend, it will be 494; and as with rapidtread they advance to charge some almost impregnable defence, they willshout to one another--these Christian soldiers--494, 'God be with youtill we meet again!'

=Off to the Front. =

What stirring times those were! What singing in the barrack rooms atnight! What excitement in the streets of the town, yes, and whatdrunkenness too, making it necessary now and then to confine a regimentto barracks the night before departure. And then the march to thestation, often in the small hours of the morning, the rush at the lastwith some would-be deserter just caught in time, the enthusiasm of themen, the cheering of the crowd, the singing of 'Auld Lang Syne' and 'GodSave the Queen. ' And then away goes the train, heads out of everycarriage, handkerchiefs waving, lusty voices cheering, shouting, singing. God bless you, our soldier lads!

But what mean these little knots of women and children gazing wistfullyafter the train? What mean these sobs, these tears, this heart-break?Ah! this is another side to the picture. They have said good-bye, andthey know that _all_ of these lads will not return, and that some ofthose left behind are left desolate for life. God help them, ourBritish soldiers--aye, and God help those they have left behind them!

[Illustration: OFF TO SOUTH AFRICA. ]

=Mr. Lowry Ordered South. =

Let us glance at just one scene more before we say good-bye to oldAldershot and follow our soldier lads on their journey South. It is thefarewell of one of the best-loved of Aldershot chaplains--the Rev. E. P. Lowry, senior Wesleyan chaplain. For seven years he has ministered withrare success to our troops; his name is a household word among them, they love him as they love few, and he loves them one and all. And nowhe too is ordered South. He is fifty-six years old, and has done nocampaigning heretofore. It is, therefore, no light task he has beforehim, and though he has many advantages and is known to so many, yet heis quite aware he must rough it with the rest, and is prepared toundergo all hardships with his men. 

It is a raw, biting morning, and the piercing wind makes the khakiuniforms that flit here and there look altogether unseasonable. On theother side of the station is Rev. Father Ryan, the Roman Catholicchaplain, in khaki uniform and helmet, looking a soldier every inch ofhim, --a good man, too, and a gentleman, as we Aldershot folks know well. But on this platform what a crowd there is! Men and women, old andyoung, soldiers and civilians, have all come to say good-bye to one man, and he moves in and out among the people saying a kindly word here andgiving a handshake there. There are not many for South Africa by thistrain. The men left hours ago, and only a few officers who had no needto travel with their men are going down. A young lad here, the son of aChristian man, is going out hoping to get an appointment in some SouthAfrican volunteer regiment, and his comrades of the Fire Brigade arehere to say 'good-bye. ' But the rest of us are all crowding round ourbest-loved padre to say God-speed. 

It is a scene that will live with us for many years. See, they arerunning along the platform as the train steams out. 494 they shout, andbravely and with smiling face he calls out in return 494, and off theygo, he to the work of his life, and we to the more humdrum but perhapsnot less necessary work of the hour. 

Chapter III

OLD ENGLAND ON THE SEA

A cheer from the distant crowds, an increased involuntary bustle onboard ship, and then train load after train load of troops detrainedalongside the ship that was to be their home for the next three weeks. Up and up the gangways they went in long continuous lines, hour afterhour, a procession that seemed as though it would never stop. At lastall are on board, and the bell rings for visitors to go ashore. Thetroops crowd the bulwarks of the ship, they climb the rigging, many ofthem like sailors. They seize every vantage point from which they canwave a long farewell to those they are leaving behind them, and thensome one with a cornet strikes up 'Soldiers of the Queen' and 'RuleBritannia, ' and fifteen hundred voices echoed by those on shore join inthe patriotic songs. At last all is ready and the moorings are cast off. 'One song more, my lads'; it is 'Shall auld acquaintance be forgot?' andthere with the good ship already moving from the dock they sing it, while handkerchiefs are vigorously waved and hearty cheers rend the air, and not a few tears are shed. And so amidst excitement and sorrow, laughter and tears, the good ship drops down the Southampton Water, pastNetley Hospital--soon to receive many of them back--and Calshott Castle, past the Needles and out into the open Channel, and fifteen hundredfighting men are on their way to South Africa. 

=A New Feat in Britain's History. =

Week after week this was the programme. It only varied in that the shipwas different, and the men were of different regiments and differentnames. Until at last the title of this chapter had become an actualfact, and Old England, in a sense truer than ever before, was upon thesea. For it was not _young_ England simply that was there. The fathersof our land--our greatest and our wisest generals, the most seasoned ofour veterans, were there also. And there was hardly a family at home buthad some representative, or at any rate some near or dear friend uponthe sea. 

Never had such a thing as this been _attempted_ before in the history ofthe world. Other great expeditions had been fitted out and despatched, for instance, the great Armada which was beaten and dispersed by ourHearts of Oak and broken to pieces upon our Scottish rocks. But fornearly 150, 000 men to be dispatched 7, 000 miles by sea, and not a man belost by shipwreck, is something over which old England may well beproud, and for which it should bow in hearty thanksgiving to God. 

The men these ships were carrying were _new_ men. Some of them certainlywere of the old type--drinking, swearing, impure--though for threeweeks, at any rate, every man of them was perforce a teetotaler, and didnot suffer in consequence! But our army has been recruited in days pastfrom our Sunday Schools with blessed consequences, and on board everyship there were men whose first concern was to find a spot where, withcongenial souls, they could meet and pray. 

All sorts of places were found. The Rev. E. P. Lowry, for instance, managed to get the use of the Lunatic Ward, and there the men met andprayed, caring nothing for the nickname of 'lunatic' freely bestowedthroughout the voyage. 

=Religious Work on a Troopship. =

The following letter from Colour-Sergeant J. H. Pearce, culled from the_Methodist Times_, gives us a specimen of the work done by the soldiersthemselves upon these troopships, work that commenced as soon as theship left dock, and continued to the end of the voyage. It is dated--

 '_At sea, but in the hollow of His hand. _

 'The first evening we got together all we could find, and decided to start at once, although still in harbour; so we looked out a little place under the poop, and decided after a chapter and prayer to come along again the next evening. But when I went along to see who would turn up, to my sorrow I found the devil had taken up position outside our trenches, and we were debarred from entering by a crowd playing "House. " The next day I was rather sick but went up and found the devil still in possession. Brother Evans was too sick to go that evening; but Thursday, being better, he and I went from stem to stern, downstairs and up, searching for a place to meet for prayer and reading the Word. We were just giving up our search to go to our quarters and pray about it, when we alighted upon about eight of our dear brothers on one of the hatchways waiting. They had sent two of the number to look for Evans and me, so we got around a port-hole light, and read Romans v. , had a few words, and a word of prayer. Evans read 604, "Soldiers' home above, " and we went home to pray that the Lord would open a way. 

 'We were to meet to-night at the same place to report progress. I was in the meantime to ask for the use of the orderly-room. The Lord had answered by opening the windows of heaven and the heart of the officer commanding the troops, and gave us exceedingly abundantly above what we asked or thought, for this morning the colonel met Mr. Cochrane, asked him if he were the Scripture reader, and told him he would give any place on board the vessel we liked to ask for. The orderly-room was granted us, and when we got there a number of R. A. Clerks were at work. I spoke to the sergeant-major and told him we did not want to be objectionable, so would come when they had finished. He said, "Take no notice of us, go on. " But there was too much commotion, so I went to see our orderly-room sergeant, who let us into the clerks' room, and there we had a real glory time. We know the Lord is with you at Aldershot, for we have realized His presence there. But He is here in wonderful power. We had a conversion last night on the hatchway. A man came along and listened, and in the dark we did not detect him till he spoke; so we have to report progress. We are to meet every night for prayer, reading and praise. It would melt a heart of cast steel to have been in our little meeting to-night, as one after another of the dear fellows simply poured out his heart to the Lord in prayer and praise. You thought I liked a good innings, but why should not every blood-bought and blood-washed one be the same? Do I realize what Jesus has done for me? Then

 "I must tell to sinners round What a dear Saviour I have found, "

 and point to the redeeming Blood, and say, "Behold the way to God. " Glorious times yesterday, about seventy or eighty at parade service. I took John i. 29, "Behold the Lamb. " Afternoon Bible reading. Evening out-door meeting, about 400 or 500 men listening; then indoor meeting. A dear fellow of our regiment gloriously converted Saturday night. Took his place with us in the open-air ring last night. '

Such stories as these tell of intense devotion, of a consecration thatis indeed 'out and out. ' They show that every Christian soldier is aChristian missionary, and that a Christian army would be the mostpowerful missionary society in the world. 

In many cases Christian officers were instrumental in bringing numbersof the men to Christ: among these may be mentioned Captain Thompson, ofthe 4th Field Battery R. A. , who held services three times a weekthroughout the voyage, and whose loving and earnest addresses had apowerful influence upon his hearers. 

Tons of literature of all descriptions were put upon the troopships atthe port of embarkation. Mr. Punter, the Wesleyan Scripture reader, himself distributed six tons at Southampton. One society seemed to viewith another in thus ministering to the wants of the men. The Soldier'sTestament proved a boon to many, and as our lads return from the front, many of them show with pride their Testaments, safely brought backthrough many a fierce fight. 

In the evenings, on many of the ships, large numbers met and sang hymns. A soldier never tires of singing, and his 'Sankey' is an unfailingfriend. Many a lad had thus brought back to memory days of long ago, andgave himself to his mother's God. 

But, after all, the great Christian events of the voyage were the paradeservices. If there were chaplains on board, they naturally conducted theservices. If not, the officers in some cases performed that duty, and weread in one soldier's letter that on the Braemar Castle PrinceChristian Victor conducted a service, perhaps a somewhat unusualoccupation for a prince!

=Parade Services on a Troopship. =

But men in the ranks conducted parade services also. The commandingofficer would send for some godly non-commissioned officer or private, and make him for the time being the 'padre' for the ship. Nor were thesedevoted Christians unduly exalted by the position in which they foundthemselves. It was no slight acknowledgment of worth that, alluntrained, they found themselves for the time being Acting-Chaplains toHer Majesty's forces. Godly Methodists like Sergt. -Major Foote orSergeant Oates, for instance, were not the men to be spoilt by such aposition. Sergeant Oates tells how the men pointed him out as the'Wesleyan Parson, ' but he tells also that being provost-sergeant he hadan empty cell under his charge and that there he used to go to be alonewith God. From such communings he came out a strong man--strong toresist temptation and to win men for Christ. And as for Sergt. -MajorFoote, he was simply bubbling over with Christian enthusiasm--enthusiasmthat did not lead him astray because it was united with a well-balancedjudgment. 

The best pictures we get of such parade services at sea are however fromthe pens of our chaplains. The Rev. E. P. Lowry gives us a vivid pictureof a Sunday at sea, which we venture to transcribe from the _MethodistTimes_:--

 'This day has really in large measure been given up to the feelings and exercises of devotion. There has been no physical drill and regimental "doubling" round the deck to the accompaniment, first of the bagpipes, and then of the fifes and drums; no medical inspection of the men's feet; no lectures to officers on first-aid to the wounded; no rifle practice at the Boers in the shape of bottles and boxes thrown overboard to be fired at by scores of eager marksmen, and speedily sent to the bottom. 

 'Early came an inspection of the ship's crew, stewards, and stokers, numbering about 180 in all, and including Africans and Lascars, of almost every imaginable hue, all dressed in their Sunday best. Then came the muster, at ten o'clock, of all our soldier lads, in red tunic and forage cap, for church parade. Nearly the whole 1, 600 answered to their names, were divided into groups according to their various denominations, and marched to their various rendezvous for worship. The Presbyterians and Wesleyans numbered nearly 500, which would make a very full parade at Grosvenor Road Church. The place assigned to us was down below on what is called the first and second decks, where the men usually have their meals, and sleep in hammocks, or on the tables, forms and floor, as the case may be. All the tinware and other impedimenta had been carefully cleared away, and so the men at once filed in between the tables. A special form was provided for the two officers who attended, and another for Mr. Pearce, who acted as my precentor, and myself. The 200 ha'penny hymn-books sent in by the thoughtful kindness of the Rev. R. W. Allen rendered invaluable aid in the brightening of the service, for they made it possible for every man to join in the singing, which was touchingly hearty and tender. Only favourite hymns would be in place in an assembly so strangely mixed, so we began with "Jesu, Lover of my soul, " followed by "What can wash away my sin?" "Just as I am, " and "Oh, what a Saviour! that He died for me. " Nearly half the men on board are Reservists, fresh from home and home-ties, though now 4, 000 miles at sea, and to them the singing of such hymns would inevitably be wakeful of all hallowed memories, and more helpful than any sermon. 

 'Nevertheless, I ventured to speak to them solemnly, yet cheerily, of the mobilisation order that Joshua issued to the Hebrew host on the eve of battle, when he commanded them as the one supremely essential thing to sanctify themselves. The men were reminded that character tells, above all, on the field of battle, as Cromwell's troopers proved, and that since, of all work, war is the most appallingly responsible and perilous, every soldier is doubly called to be a saint. Such was "Stonewall" Jackson, America's most victorious general, and as in his case, so in theirs, grace would not rob them of grit, but increase their store. That grace they all might find in Christ. 

 'We also all seemed to feel it a consoling thing to bow in prayer on that rolling lower deck for Queen and country, for comrades already at the seat of war, and for "the old folk at home, " so, in our humble measure making ourselves one with that innumerable host who thus seek "to bind the whole round earth by golden chains about the feet of God. " Not a man seemed unmoved, and the memory of that first full and official parade will be helpful to me for many days to come. 

 'The Roman Catholics were also mustered; but as there was no priest on board, associated worship was for them quite impossible, and they were accordingly at once dismissed. 

 'In the absence of an Anglican chaplain, Surgeon-Colonel McGill, the principal medical officer, read prayers with the men of the Royal Army Medical Corps. The captains of the various regimental companies did the same for their Church of England men; while in the main saloon the ship's captain conducted worship with as many of the naval and military officers as found it convenient to attend. At the harmonium presided Bandsman Harrison, of the Northamptons, who for the last two years has helped ever so well at the Sunday afternoon services of sacred song in Aldershot. 

 'After church there was an excellent gathering in the guardroom for prayer and Bible reading, when we refreshed our hearts with the thought of the glories of the ascended Saviour who is indeed "The Almighty"; and although in this singular meeting-place we have never before ventured to indulge in song, to-day we could not refrain from an exultant voicing of the Doxology. 

 'At 6. 30, just when loved ones at Aldershot were assembling for worship, our praying men met once more; this time on the upper deck, where there soon assembled a large and interested congregation, sitting on the bulwarks or lying about in every imaginable attitude on the deck. Close by there were half a dozen strong horses that had not felt their feet for over a fortnight; every now and then piercing bugle calls broke in upon us, and the restless feet of many a man hurrying to and fro; but none of these things moved us, and the service was vigorously maintained for nearly an hour and a half. Mr. Pearce, the Army Scripture Reader, gave out the hymns; I read a chapter and gave an address as brightly tender and practical as I could make it; sundry soldiers also spoke and prayed; and a manifestly gracious impression was produced on all present. The men are eager to listen when sanctified common-sense is talked, and are just as ready good-naturedly to note anything that in the slightest degree is odd. One of our godliest helpers has a powerful voice, but sometimes inserts a sort of sentimental tremolo into his singing, which makes it distinctly suggestive of the bleating of a sheep. I was sitting in my cabin close by when this preliminary singing was started, and was not left many moments in doubt as to its unmistakable sheepishness, or lamb-likeness, for almost immediately I heard some of the young rascals sitting round put in a subdued accompaniment of "Baa-a-a. " Yet none the less the song moved on to its triumphant close. And thus, amid tears and harmless mirth, we are sowing on board this ship the seeds of eternal life, humbly trusting that the Lord of the harvest will not suffer our labour to be wholly in vain. '

Or take this as a later picture from a private letter sent home by theRev. Frank Edwards, Acting-Chaplain to the Welsh Wesleyan troops. Mr. Edwards went out at his own charge to render spiritual help to hiscountrymen. 

 'This morning we had a splendid parade service. It was held on the upper deck. The captain had a large awning put up specially for the service. A stand was then erected by the chief officer, and a few of the men draped it with flags, and I had a large box covered with the Union Jack to serve me as a pulpit. Then the men were marched up and formed into three sides of a square, of which the preacher and my choir formed the fourth side. The centre of the square was occupied by the officers. 

 'It was the most memorable service of my life. We opened with the hymn, --

 "Stand up, stand up for Jesus, "

 and the strains of that hymn from hundreds of manly voices was carried far out upon the waters. Then we had the Liturgy, and the responses came clear and strong in true military style. The singing of the grand old Te Deum was most impressive. We sang an Easter hymn with great feeling and earnestness, and before the sermon, "Jesu, Lover of my soul. "

 Oh! how those men joined in the singing. It seemed to become a prayer on every lip, and the fitting expression of the thought of every heart. Its meaning was clearer than it had ever been before. 

 "While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high. "

 Then came the sermon, which was no sermon at all. True, I took a text, Isa. Lxiii. 1, and I had a sermon in my mind. But when I looked round at those men, and thought how we were all standing on the very brink of eternity, and how few, perhaps, would ever see the dawn of another Easter morn, I knew it was not the place for an elaborate sermon. The time was precious and my words must be few and straight. I had a good time. It was impossible to miss it. Looking round upon those men as they came pressing closer and closer, with their hungry souls shining forth through their eyes, as they listened to the old, old story of the Saviour's everlasting love, and of His mighty conquest over sin and death, why, it seemed to me that if I did not preach to them the very _masts_ would cry out and proclaim the glad tidings. I forgot self, and time, and place, and remembered nothing but my hearers and my message. And although I had been warned not to keep them long, as they would never listen, such was the sympathy between us, and so great the fascination of the old story of Christ's love and power to save, that they listened spellbound to the end. 

 'Then came the last hymn "Rock of Ages, " and, oh! how it rolled out, clear and strong and triumphant, vibrating through the ship and echoing over the waters, a fitting close to a helpful and impressive service. '

In such manner ended a typical Sunday upon a troopship. And _only_ a_typical_ Sunday, for on scores of troopships Sundays of a similarcharacter were spent. Such sacred hours must have proved splendidpreparation for the approaching campaign. And many a lad who had neverthought upon the great things of eternity before came face to face withthem then. 

And so with marvellous celerity the English army was transferred toSouth Africa, and all eyes and hearts followed it. The pride of thecastle and of the cottage was there; the heir to vast estates, and thesupport of his widowed mother's old age; the scape-grace of the family, and the one on whom all its hopes centred. 

=The Chaplains of the British Army. =

And with them went the best that the Church could send. A noble band ofchaplains has our British army. Men like the venerable Dr. Edgehill, theChaplain-General--the soldier's preacher, _par excellence_. Men like theRev. A. W. B. Watson, who nearly killed himself by his acts ofself-sacrifice on behalf of the men in the Soudan campaign. 

Distinguished clergymen, Presbyterian and Wesleyan ministers, ArmyScripture readers, agents of the Soldiers' Christian Association--allwanted to go; and the difficulty was not to find the men, but to chooseamong so many. 

And so men of war and men of peace, soldiers of the Queen and soldiersof the King of kings, found themselves together on the shores of SouthAfrica, sharing each other's dangers, privations and fatigues, all ofthem loyal to their Queen, and each of them doing his work to the bestof his ability. 

And the prayers of Christian England were with them night and day. Whatwonder that through the army went a wave of Christian influence such ashad never been felt before. 

And then from the Colonies they came. Australia and Canada sent theirchoicest and their best. From the dusky sons of the British Empire inIndia came representatives also. South Africa itself had its own goodlytribute to offer. And with them all came Christian workers--chaplainsfrom Australia and Canada; missionaries by the score in South Africa, ready to do everything in their power for the soldiers of the Queen. 

And so it came to pass that the whole British Empire was represented onthe South African veldt. And the prayers, not only of Christian Britain, but of the whole Empire, ascended to Heaven as the prayer of one man forour soldier lads across the sea. Never has the sentiment of Tennyson'sbeautiful poem been so translated into fact before, for in very deedthe whole round world was every way

 'Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. '

The months that witnessed the welding of the British Empire into onegreat family witnessed also one great effort for her soldiers, and oneglorious chain of prayer for their conversion. What wonder thathundreds, if not thousands, turned to God!

[Illustration: PARADE SERVICE ON THE TUGELA. ]

Chapter IV

TO THE FRONT

The two most important ports of disembarkation A were Capetown andDurban. East London and Port Elizabeth necessarily came in for theirshare of the troops, but that share was only small. 

It was therefore at Capetown and Durban that Christian workers speciallyprepared to receive our soldiers and do all that was possible for theircomfort ere they departed for the front. These towns had alreadythousands of refugees from the Transvaal upon their hands. Many of themwere absolutely destitute. They had left the Transvaal at almost amoment's notice, and large numbers had only the clothes they werewearing. But the generosity of the colonists knew no bounds, and gladlythey gave of their abundance and often of their poverty to help theirpoor distressed brethren. Daily relief was granted where needed, and allthings possible were done for their comfort. 

=South African Generosity. =

And now the coming of the army gave fresh opportunity for the display ofgenerosity. Not only were the soldiers received with hearty cheers, butlavish gifts were showered upon them. Flowers, fruits, tobacco, daintiesof all kinds were handed to them as they departed to the front, and inmany cases sent up after them. 

A gentleman from 'up country' wrote to Capetown to ask when any troopswould be going through a certain railway station, and he would undertaketo supply with fruit all troops passing for the next two months. 

At Christmas a number of ladies at one of the stations up the line hadall sorts of good things for the men who had to travel on Christmas Day. Another gentleman accidentally heard that a certain train was going tostop at the railway station nearest his house, and hastily collectedtwenty-four dozen new-laid eggs for the men to have for breakfast! SuchChristian kindness as this appeals powerfully to Mr. Thomas Atkins, asit does to most men, and he deserved all that South Africa could givehim. 

=The Soldiers' Christian Association in South Africa. =

At Capetown the Soldiers' Christian Association was specially active. This enterprising and successful Association was inaugurated seven yearsago as the direct result of a series of recommendations submitted to theNational Council of Young Men's Christian Associations. It has itsbranches in most military centres and is exceedingly popular with themen. In connection with this war the S. C. A. , as it is familiarly called, has taken an entirely new departure. It has taken a leaf, and a veryvaluable leaf, out of the book of the American Young Men's ChristianAssociation. That enterprising Association did a great deal of tent workduring the late war with Spain, and such work proving of the greatestvalue, the S. C. A. Has followed the same course during the war in SouthAfrica. At first there was considerable difficulty in getting permissionfrom headquarters; but at last it came, and on Saturday, Nov. 11, 1899, Messrs. Hinde and Fleming sailed. A further band of seven workersaccompanied Mr. A. H. Wheeler, the General Secretary of the Association afortnight later, and on their arrival they found that a general orderhad been issued to the following effect--'Permission has been given tothe Soldiers' Christian Association to send out tents andwriting-material for the troops. Facilities are to be accorded to theAssociation to put up tents at fixed stations, as far as militaryrequirements will permit. '

How well the work of the Association has been done has been told in theorgan of the S. C. A. --_News from the Front_. 

 'Eight tents, fully equipped and capable of seating two hundred and fifty men, made of green rot-proof canvas, and ten smaller ones made of the same material for sleeping purposes, besides four iron buildings to take the place of tents in the colder districts, have been sent out from the mother country The tents have been stationed at Wynberg (No. 1 General Hospital), Orange River, Enslin Camp, Sterkstroom, Dordrecht, Kimberley (after the siege), Bloemfontein, Ladysmith (after the siege), Dewdrop Camp, Arcadia, Frere Camp, and other places. It was Lord Roberts' special wish that two of the iron buildings should be erected at Bloemfontein and one each at Kimberley and Ladysmith. '[1]

Lord Roberts himself opened the first S. C. A. Tent pitched inBloemfontein, and the late Earl of Airlie, whose death none more thanhis gallant lads of the 12th Lancers mourn, opened the tent at Enslin. These tents became the Soldiers' Homes, and are free to men of alldenominations. In them stationery, ink, and pens are all free; and thereare books to read and games to play. 

Occasionally they have been put to other uses, such as hospital depôts, shelters for refugees, and temporary hospitals. Generals and theirstaffs have been quartered in them for the night, and, in fact, theyhave accompanied the British soldier to the front as his 'home fromhome' wherever he has gone. 

But to return to the work of the S. C. A. At Capetown. When this workbegan it was found that there was no post-office at the south arm orjetty where the troops disembarked, and thousands of the troops wereproceeding to the front without the opportunity of posting the lettersthey had written, or sending home the money they had received duringthe voyage. With his usual carelessness, 'Tommy' was leaving his letterswith any one he saw on the jetty, and even confiding his money to besent home by any chance passer-by. 

The S. C. A. Got permission to undertake this work and soon had an amateurpost-office in full working order. In this way thousands of lettersreached anxious friends at home which might otherwise have been delayedfor weeks. And more than this, thousands of pounds in money werereceived by the workers and safely transmitted home, one regiment alone, the King's Own Scottish Borderers, committing to the care of the S. C. A. Workers no less than £800. Large quantities of writing-material andreligious literature were also distributed amongst the troops beforethey proceeded on their long and tedious journey up country. 

[Footnote 1: _Our Soldiers_. ]

=Work Among the Refugees. =

It will be remembered that when the war broke out the missionaries were, with very few exceptions, compelled to leave the Transvaal. The GeneralSuperintendent of Wesleyan Missions in the Transvaal District, the Rev. Geo. Weavind, had been so long resident in the country as to be able totake up his rights as a burgher. He therefore stayed to look after hisfew remaining people, and four other Wesleyan missionaries remained byspecial permission with him. For the rest, the missionaries werescattered: some to Capetown, some to Durban, some to obtainappointments as acting-chaplains, or officiating clergymen; but all ofthem to work in some way or other for the Master, to whose service theyhad given their lives. 

At Durban, similar work was done. The Transvaal Relief Committee (asub-committee of the Durban Town Council Relief Committee), with theRev. Geo. Lowe as chairman, did splendid work among the refugees, ofwhom at one time there were 21, 000 in Durban alone. This relief work wassplendidly organized and most effective. 

The Sisters Evelyn and Miriam, who organized much of this work, wereWesley deaconesses employed in South Africa. Sister Evelyn Oats wasresting in England after five years' most exhausting and successfulwork, but hurried back to South Africa on the first news of the outbreakof war, and was soon hard at work among the refugees. Sister Miriam hadbeen employed at Johannesburg, and remained there until nearly every onehad gone, and she was left alone in the house. And then she also leftand found her way to Durban, where her nursing skill was of the utmostvalue among the poor women, homeless and destitute, in the hour of theirdeepest need. 

The rate of relief was one shilling per day for adults, and sixpence foreach child under fourteen; and the utmost care was taken in thedistribution of the money. Funds were most generously provided, but itwas a great relief when an application for 1, 500 stretcher-bearers camefrom the front, and thus the congestion among the men was rendered lesssevere How eagerly the poor fellows accepted the offered employment, and the drill hall was in a few minutes crowded with those eager to go!

=Welcoming the Troops at Durban. =

At Durban also the heartiest of hearty welcomes was given to theincoming troops. In connection with the Transvaal Relief Committee therewas a commissariat department for the purchase of bread and fruit, etc. , and a Welcome Committee to receive the soldiers as they came. 

At first the idea was only to provide bread and fruit for the men onlanding, but it was soon found, as at Capetown, that the men had lettersto post and money to send home. It was also found that the men wantedsome one to write letters for them, and this work also was undertaken, young ladies gladly giving of their time to this work; and thousands offriends by their assistance heard of the arrival of their dear ones atDurban. 

Christmas cards were also freely given to the men, who wanted in thisway to send Christmas greetings home; and, in fact, Tommy Atkins hadhardly been so spoilt before--not even by some good ladies inEngland--as he was during these eventful weeks at Durban. The lettersand messages sent home were in many cases of a most touching and tendercharacter, and once more Tommy Atkins proved himself to be anything butan 'Absent-minded Beggar. '

As at Capetown, money in large sums was entrusted to the workers tosend home, and quite a large number of watches were handed over for thesame purpose. In this work ministers and members of all Churches tookpart. The military authorities cleared as many difficulties as possibleout of their way, and all who took part in it found it a labour of love. 

There was no time to do much direct spiritual work at either Capetown orDurban. The troops were hurried to the front as fast as possible. Butwhenever it was possible to speak a word for Christ that word wasspoken, and the kindly act was a sermon in itself. 

Thus were our soldier lads welcomed by our children across the sea. Andby their kindness to our men they have forged another link in the chainof love which binds the colonies to the homeland. 

'Britannia's piccanini, ' as Natal loves to call herself, has provedworthy of the old mother; and the old mother who is making suchsacrifices for her children in South Africa will not forget that theyare striving hard to show themselves worthy of her care. 

Chapter V

WITH LORD METHUEN

To Lord Methuen was given command of the Kimberley Relief Column. He hadwith him the Guards, the Highland Brigade, and several of the finestinfantry regiments in Her Majesty's army. A great task was allotted tohim, but he was considered equal to any responsibility. He has beenfreely criticised for his conduct of this part of the campaign. It hasbeen stated that he was prodigal of the lives of his men by directassaults when he might have accomplished his purpose by sweeping flankmovements, as Lord Roberts did afterwards. But then Lord Roberts hadcavalry, and Methuen was sadly deficient in that arm of the service; andhow to make such turning movements without sufficient cavalry, no oneyet has been able to tell. However, it is not for us to enter into anycriticism or defence of a British General. 

What concerns us most for the purpose of this book, and what we rejoiceto know, is that Lord Methuen was a humble and sincere Christian, whodid all that lay in his power to further the spiritual work among hismen. What this means to a chaplain or Scripture reader at the front canhardly be told. This we do know, that the direct assistance of thecommanding officer often makes all the difference between rich successand comparative failure. 

=Christian Work at De Aar and Orange River. =

The rallying-point for the Kimberley Relief Column was, in the firstplace, De Aar, the junction where the line to Kimberley connects withthe line to Bloemfontein. In course of time, De Aar became the greatdistributing centre of stores for the forces on the way to Kimberley andColesberg. Here the Army Service Corps held sway, and enormous were thestores committed to their care. 

But at first, as we have said, De Aar was the rallying place for ourtroops, as they moved up from Capetown, and here it was that they gottheir first sight of the Boers. As they placed their pickets andsentries round the camp for the night, a Boer woman was heard to say, 'The rooineks are so afraid that their men will run away, that they havehad to put armed men round the camp to keep the others in. ' That was herway of interpreting the duties of British sentries!

Here it was that Christian work among the troops began in real earnest, and Sergeant Oates obtained permission from the leaders of the RailwayMission to use the Carnarvon Hall for Soldiers' Services. The colonelheard of it and put the service in orders, so that without anypre-arrangement on the part of the promoters, Sergeant Oates obtainedthe attendance of all the Wesleyan soldiers in De Aar at the time. 

By-and-by they moved up to the Orange River, 570 miles beyond Capetown. Here they found that the station-master was a nominal Wesleyan, and hemost kindly gave them the use of his house for religious services. Still, they were without chaplains, and what, perhaps, was, in theiropinion, quite as bad, without hymn-books! Sergeant Oates found the nameof the Rev. E. Nuttall, of Capetown, on a piece of dirty old paper inthe camp. He did not know anything about him, or even whether he wasstill in Capetown, but he felt moved to write to him for those precioushymn-books. So he read his letter to the lads, and they 'put a prayerunder the seal' and sent it off. The station-master at Belmont, who wasgoing '_down_, ' promised to do what he could for these singing soldiers, who were without their books, and so even in worse state than preacherswithout their sermons; and, strange to say, letter, station-master, andRev. E. P. Lowry appeared at the Rev. E. Nuttall's house almost at thesame time! With Mr. Lowry came Mr. A. Pearce, Army Scripture Reader, from North Camp, Aldershot. He remained at Orange River while Mr. Lowrymoved on with the Guards, to which Brigade he was attached. 

By this time the troops were ready for the advance, and the chaplainswere with their men. Rev. Mr. Faulkner was the senior Church of Englandchaplain. The Rev. James Robertson and the Rev. W. S. Jaffrey representedthe Presbyterians, and the Rev. E. P. Lowry was the senior Wesleyanchaplain. 

=The Battle of Belmont. =

And then came the battle of Belmont! From Orange River the troops hadbeen compelled to march, and had their first taste of the African sun inthe greatness of his strength. The legs of the kilted men were blisteredas though boiling water had been poured over them, and all but the oldcampaigners in every regiment suffered acutely. Belmont was reachedafter dark; the troops were without over-coats or blankets, and thenight was bitingly cold. But they lay down anywhere, glad enough tostretch themselves upon the ground or seek the friendly shelter of aditch. Here they lay unmurmuringly--members of the proudest aristocracyin the world, noblemen of ancient lineage, quite ready to sleep in aditch or die, for that matter, for their country. 

Before two o'clock in the morning, they were aroused, and marched out toattack the stronghold of the Boers. And nobly they performed their task. But let a Christian soldier--our old friend Sergeant Oates--describe thebattle. 

=A Sergeant's Account of the Battle. =

'On the 23rd November (Martinmas Day), we marched out early in themorning, and at daybreak found ourselves facing the Boers in aformidable position. All was so still during our march to this place. While marching along, a young goat had got parted from its mother andcommenced bleating mournfully in front of us, and although I am notsuperstitious, it made me feel quite uncomfortable, as it did many more. What became of it eventually I cannot say, but I think the poor littlething got roughly handled, if not killed. 

'We were not long before we came within rifle range, and then thebullets began to fly about our ears as we advanced towards the Boerposition. We pressed on; first one and then another kept dropping out, and shouts of "stretcher bearer" were heard very frequently. Nothingexcept death would have stopped our men that morning, so determined theyseemed. On we went, and faster and thicker the bullets came, spendingthemselves in the sand at our feet. At last we reached the kopje, andrested at the foot a short while, and then up we went. Lieutenant Brineand myself reached the top in advance of the others. As soon as wepopped our heads over the top, five of the Northamptons popped theirheads over the other side, facing us with their rifles, at the present, and it was hard to convince them we were friends, so excited were they. We were not allowed to remain at peace long, for evidently some one hadspied us. Ping, ping, came the Mauser bullets; swish, swish, theMartinis. We soon got to rather close quarters and were able to do somegood shooting. I was still close to Mr. Brine, and we had been talkingsome few minutes, when some one spied him and he had two or threenarrow escapes. He moved to what he thought was a safer place, and hadabout four shots, which all told. He gave me the range, and was justtaking aim a fifth time when a Martini bullet pierced his throat, and hefell to rise no more. That was the first death I saw, and I feltsomewhat sick. Soon, however, we charged, and up went the _white flag_;but it was the most difficult piece of work I ever saw, trying to stopour men in the middle of a charge. However, they were stopped in time, and instead of being killed, the remaining Boers were taken prisoners. The battle over, we returned to camp, and then came the sad duty ofburying our fourteen dead comrades. There were not many dry eyes, but Iventure to say there were many thankful hearts. '

=Mr. Lowry's Adventure on the Veldt. =

The Rev. E. P. Lowry had a very trying experience in connection with thisbattle. He had marched out with the colonel of the Grenadiers, intendingto return to camp as soon as the railway line was reached; but it wasimpossible to find his way back in the darkness, and he therefore wenton with the men. Presently the bullets were whistling all around him, and as soon as the heaviest fighting on the left was over, he busiedhimself among the wounded. Feeling however, that he could do nothingmore, and that he had better be in camp to receive the wounded, hedetermined to make the best of his way back. But he was wronglydirected, and got lost on the veldt. Hour after hour he wandered about, but could find no trace of the camp, into which he had marched in thedark the previous night, and out of which he had marched in the darkthat same morning. His thirst consumed him, he could walk no further, hewas utterly exhausted. How many miles he had wandered he could not tell. The din of battle had died away, and all was one unbroken stillness. Hesat down under the scanty shade of a thorn bush, and with a feeling ofintense desolation upon him made the following entry in hispocket-book:--

 'Am now without water, without bread, and almost without hope, save in Jesus Christ, my Saviour, in whom now, as ever, I trust for everlasting life. '

He knelt down and offered up what might well have been his last prayer, and then had a vivid impression made upon his mind that he should go inan entirely different direction from that in which he had beentravelling. After wandering in utter weariness for some time in thisdirection, he saw in the dim distance a cart moving across the veldt. With all the strength he had left, he shouted. Presently the cartstopped, and he saw a man dismount. Slowly he came near, covering thepoor, weary wanderer with his rifle. Who it was--Briton or Boer--Mr. Lowry did not know and hardly did he care. It was his one chance oflife, and 'all that a man hath will he give for his life. ' In hisexhausted state, the heat and fury of the battle seemed as nothing tothe intense loneliness and desolation of the veldt. 

But a 'friend' drew near, for the man who so slowly came towards himwas a Rimington Scout, and he and his comrade in the cart soon carriedtheir chaplain to help and deliverance. They were in charge of somebattle-field loot which they were taking temporarily to a Dutchman'shouse of which they had possession. Here there was a feather bed, and, what was better still, food and drink. That same night the scouts wereordered to Belmont, and back with them went the wandering chaplain, still weary and faint, to carry with him as long as he lived the memoryof his awful experience upon the veldt. 

They were burying the dead when Mr. Lowry returned to Belmont. The firstto fall on that fearful day had been Corporal Honey. He had given hisheart to God on the passage out, and great was the rejoicing of thecomrades who had led him to Christ that he had been able to bear a goodtestimony until that fateful morning. 

=At the Battle of Modder River. =

Then followed Graspan or Enslin, where the Naval Brigade suffered soseriously; and then the fight that Lord Methuen considered the mostterrible in British history--the battle of the Modder River. For twelvehours the battle continued. They had had a long and wearying march andwere looking forward to a good breakfast, but instead they had to gostraight into the fight, and it was twelve hours before that breakfastcame. Men who fought at Dargai and Omdurman tell us that these were merechild's play compared with the fight of the Modder River. Hour afterhour the firing was maintained, until in many cases the ammunition wasall expended. And yet there was no relief. The pitiless rain of bulletsfrom the Boer fortifications continued, and it was impossible to carryammunition to our lads through such a fire. Our men could in many casesneither advance nor retire, and men who had expended all theirammunition had just to lie still--some of them for six hours--while thebullets flew like hail just above them. To raise the head the meresttrifle from the dust meant death. Many a godless lad prayed then, whohad never prayed before, and many a forgotten vow was registered afreshin the hour of danger. 

Let Sergeant Oates again give us his experience:--

'It was a terrible battle. I had two very narrow escapes there. A tinysplinter took a small piece of skin off the end of my chin, and anotherlarger one just caught my boot and glided off. It almost went through. Again I got away unharmed. That day was a long prayer-meeting to me. Wherever I went and whatever I did, these words were on my lips:--

 '"What a wonderful Saviour is Jesus, my Jesus. What a wonderful Saviour is Jesus, my Lord. "

'Once and only once I grew weak, and almost wished myself wounded andout of it all, when this text came in my mind: "The eternal God is thyrefuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms. " Oh! how ashamed I feltthat I should be so weak and faithless!

'The third day was the fiercest, and to me it was a day of prayer. Tenlong hours did the conflict last; the din was awful! The spiteful bizzof the Remington bullet, the swish of the Martini, and the shriek of theMauser, coupled with the unearthly booming of the Hotchkiss quick-firer, and the boom, roar, and bursting of the shrapnel on both sides, all thisintermingled with voices calling out orders, and shouting forstretchers, went on until the shades of evening fell over a day which, Lord Methuen says, has never had an equal. Yet above all this din, I wasable to hear that voice which calms our fears saying: "When thou passestthrough the waters, I will be with thee, and through the rivers theyshall not overflow thee; when thou walkest through the fire, thou shaltnot be burned, neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. " With suchpromises as these, what would one not go through. 

'That night, after the enemy had retired, I had to lead my companyacross a ford in the Modder River. It was very dark, and I was not sureof the way; I had crossed the river by the same ford early in theafternoon, but it was in the thick of the battle, so I was too busy withsomething else to take any notice of the road. I was cut off from mycompany, and got rather anxious about it. Looking with the aid of amatch, at my text-book I found these words: "Commit thy way unto theLord, trust also in Him, and He will bring it to pass. " I was not slowto follow this blessed advice, and within half an hour I was with mycompany again, wet through and tired out. Yet, with these uncomfortablethings about me, I was able to thank God for His loving care, and now Ican write "tried and proved" against that text. '

And yet, though the fight was so terrible, the number of casualties wassingularly few, considering the character of the encounter. LordMethuen, however, was slightly wounded, and Colonel Stopford, of theColdstream Guards, was shot dead. 

One of the Boer batteries was planted close to the native WesleyanChurch, which was riddled with shot and shell from British guns intentupon dominating the Boer position. 

That night, so far as possible, the chaplains gathered their men roundthem on the field, and many a homely evensong was held. 

Then followed a period of quiet. There, frowning in front of them, wasthe Boers' natural fortress of Magersfontein, rendered impregnable by awonderful series of trenches, at the extent and perfection of which theycould only guess. They knew that there must be at least one desperateattempt to take them, if not more. But three great battles in one weekhad exhausted officers and men, and it was absolutely necessary to rest. 

=Fellowship and Work at the Modder. =

This was the opportunity for the Christian workers. On the march or inthe battle all that they could do was to speak a word of cheer as oftenas possible. Christian soldiers could not meet for fellowship; all thatthey could do was occasionally to have a hearty hand-grip or shout'494, ' as a comrade passed by. With the shout of '494' they went intothe battle, and when they came out their little Christian company wassorely depleted. But now they had time to look round, to count up theirlosses, to greet their comrades of other regiments again, to receivefresh accessions to their ranks. 

=The Soldiers' Home. =

Mr. Percy Huskisson, of the South African General Mission, quicklysecured the use of the native day school, which was also the worshiproom for the Wesleyan natives, and fitted it up as a Soldiers' Home. Heand his colleague, Mr. Darroll, were indefatigable in their efforts onbehalf of the men, and night by night the newly transformed Home wascrowded. Lord Methuen himself opened it, and personally thanked theworkers for their splendid services on the field of battle. In thecourse of his address, he said: 'I have heard of newspapercorrespondents risking their lives when they are well paid for it, butyou fellows seem to have no idea of danger; the shadow of the Almightyseems over you, or you would have been, ere this, in your graves, withmany more of our brave men. ' But under the shadow of the Almighty, theworkers were secure, and are secure to-day!

=Local Helpers in Good Work. =

One of the best helpers the chaplains had was Mr. Westerman, who held animportant position on the railway line, and who was steward of theWesleyan Church at Modder River. He had been a prisoner among the Boersfor six weeks, and on many occasions they had threatened to shoot him asa spy. They had not, however, injured him or his property in any way. Itwas, therefore, a most unfortunate occurrence that this good man's houseand furniture should have been wantonly damaged by British soldiers ontheir arrival at the place. Evidently they thought the house belonged toa Boer. An order was, of course, promptly issued stopping such wantondestruction for the future. 

Another good Christian man at Modder River was Mr. Fraser, a ScotchPresbyterian, whose house had been most unfortunately wrecked by thebombardment. He and Mr. Westerman met week by week, during the period ofthe Boer invasion, for Christian worship. These two gentlemen renderedsplendid service to our Christian soldiers, and to them both we aregreatly indebted. Every chaplain, every scripture reader, every agent ofevery society, every Christian soldier was now busily at work. Thebattles had made a great impression on the men. The war had only justbegun, and they knew there were other terrible fights in store. Thesight of the dead and dying was something to which they had not yetbecome accustomed. The stern reality of war was upon them, and, as Mr. Lowry wrote, 'There are no scoffers left in Lord Methuen's camp. ' Takeone instance out of many. 

='After Many Days. '=

Years ago, in Gibraltar, a sergeant came to a Christian soldier, andwith words of scorn and blasphemy asserted his own independence of anypower above him. Said he: 'My heart is my own. I am independent ofeverything and everybody, your God included. ' The reply was a soldier'sreply, straight and to the point: 'Jack, some day you will face death, and, who knows, I may see you, and if the stiffness does not leave yourknees before then, my name is not what it is. '

Three years passed since then--three years of prayer on his account--andon the night of November 28, 1899, after the river had been passed, ahand was laid on that Christian's shoulder, and a voice said: 'Joe, Ihave done to-day what I have not done for thirteen years: I have offeredup a prayer, and it has been answered. I have these last few hours seenall my life--seen it, as, I fancy, God sees it--and I have vowed, if Hewill forgive me, to change my ways. '

With Christian thoughtfulness his friend did not remind him of theincident at Gibraltar, but it was doubtless present to both minds justthen. So does war melt the hardest hearts!

=Open-air Work. =

The letters from Christian soldiers at the front are full of stories ofconversion. Again, we hear of private soldiers and non-commissionedofficers at outposts conducting parades. After Magersfontein, theChristian influence deepened and the number of conversions increased. By-and-by, enteric began to claim its victims, and the Home had to beused as a fever hospital. Open-air work then became the order of theday. Some of the Christian soldiers met between six and seven in theevening, and marched to the camp of a regiment or battery, where theyheld what they call an 'out and out' open-air meeting. Sometimes theywould get as many as a thousand listeners, and often the Word was sopowerful that there and then men decided for Christ. The SaturdayTestimony Meetings were gatherings of great power, as our soldier-ladstold to the others, who crowded round, what a great Saviour they hadfound. 

=Prayer under Fire. =

Now and then the monotony of ordinary duty was broken by an engagement. Such an interlude is pictured for us in vivid language in the followingextract from the pen of one of our Christian soldiers:--

'On January 22, my battery advanced to a position directly in front ofthe hill occupied by the Boers, and almost within rifle range of theirtrenches. We had no cover whatever, and they dropped shell after shellinto us for nearly two hours; and after dark we retired without a man orhorse wounded. One of our gunners was hit with a splinter on the belt, which bruised him slightly, but did not wound him or stop theperformance of his duty. One of their shells hit one of our ammunitionwagons, and smashed part of it to matchwood. If God's mercy was notplainly shown in this, I say men are as blind as bats, and lesscivilized. During the whole of the two hours after I had taken therange, I had to sit, kneel, or stand with my face to the foe, and watchthe Boer guns fire, then await the terrible hissing noise, next see thedust fly mountains high just in front of me, finally press my helmetdown to prevent the segments hitting me too hard should any fall on me, but not one touched me, though they pattered like large hailstones on acorrugated iron roof. We amused ourselves by picking them up betweenbursts. I prayed earnestly all through that battle. . . . 

'I sit and muse over the chatter of my little children many a time, andalmost reach out for them, as though they were here. They are near to myheart, and in the precious keeping of my Saviour. '

With those last pathetic sentences we may well close this chapter. Thepicture they call before us is one we are not likely to forget. Thesoldier grimed with the heat and dirt of battle; shells flying round himon every hand; Death stalking unchecked but a few yards away; and thenthe vision of little children, their chatter striking upon the father'sear in that far-off land, hands even stretched out to receive them. Absent-minded! nay, thou soldier-poet, thou hast not got the measure ofThomas Atkins yet. 'They are near to my heart, and in the preciouskeeping of my Saviour. ' Thank God for that!

 'Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away; In Jesus' keeping we are safe and they. '

Chapter VI

MAGERSFONTEIN

At a dinner party in 1715, in the Duke of Ormond's residence atRichmond, the conversation happened to turn upon 'short prayers. ' Amongthe distinguished guests was Dr. Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester, wholistened with special interest. 'I, too, ' said the Bishop, 'can tell youa short prayer I heard recently, which had been offered up by a commonsoldier just before the battle of Blenheim, a better one than any of youhave yet quoted: "O God, if in this day of battle I forget Thee, do_Thou_ not forget me. "'[2]

Years have gone by. On December 10, 1899, when so many of our brave menhad to face death in South Africa, immediately before going into actionat Modder River, the gallant officer commanding the 65th HowitzerBattery gathered his gunners around him, and offered up the very prayerof the poor Blenheim soldier: 'Almighty God, if this day we forget Thee, do Thou not forget us. '

[Footnote 2: This, as the reader will probably note, is but a variant ofa still older story. ]

=Prayer before Battle. =

So begins a tiny booklet issued by the South African General Mission. The picture it presents to us is one beautiful in the extreme. Itreminds us of the Covenanters of long ago. We have heard a great deal ofBoer prayer-meetings. Who is there to record for us the prayer-meetingsheld in the British camp? But this artillery officer and his shortprayer will not be forgotten, and will remain as the most touchingexpression of a soldier's need and a soldier's hope. 

And, surely, if such a prayer as this were needed at any time, it wasbefore the battle of Magersfontein. All was so sudden, so unexpected! Ina moment death was upon them! All unlooked-for that deadly hail ofbullets! No time for confession of sin! No time even for a whisperedprayer! A few brief moments, and the flower of the British army layprone to rise no more!

It was the Highland Brigade that suffered most severely--the brigade ofwhich every true Britisher is so justly proud. Who that has not seenthese Highlanders march can have any idea of their perfect bearing andsplendid condition? The faultless line, the measured rising and fallingof the white gaiters, until you almost forget they are men who aremarching there, and fancy it must be the rising and falling of the crankin some gigantic piece of machinery. 

And the individual men. What splendid fellows they are! of what finephysique, of what firm character! It is an honour, surely, to commandsuch men as these. And as General Wauchope marches at their head to hisdeath, with stern, sad face and purpose fixed, what wonder that hisheart is racked with pain, as he fears, not for himself, but for hismen. A fine Christian was Andrew Wauchope. Quiet and reserved withregard to his religion, as most Scotchmen are, but, if we are to believethe reports that come to us on all hands, a man who lived near to God. 

=A Scotch Chaplain. =

There was another notable man with the Highland Brigade that day; and, as there are few to tell the story of our chaplains, while there aremany to tell the story of our soldiers, we make no apology forintroducing to our readers in more than a few words one of the finest ofour chaplains--the Rev. James Robertson, of the Church of Scotland. 

By the courtesy of Dr. Theodore Marshall, we cull from _St. Andrew_ thefollowing particulars: 'Mr. Robertson is a native of Grantown, and, after finishing his university course at Edinburgh, was licensed by thePresbytery of Abernethy. He is a soldier's son, and very early in hisministry determined to devote his life to soldiers. His first militaryappointment was the acting-chaplaincy at Dover. In 1885 he wastransferred to Cairo, and accompanied the Cameron Highlanders on themarch to Abri, thence on the return journey to Wady Halfa. All the waythrough, the men were loud in his praises. He spared himself no toil, cheerfully shared the men's privations and dangers, and became to themalmost more than a friend. The May _Record_ tells how Robertson wasspecially reported by his Church for bringing in Lieutenant Cameron, whohad been mortally wounded in the previous December; how, in the absenceof a second doctor, he had volunteered to go out with a stretcher partyunder heavy fire, and look after the wounded; and, as Lieutenant Cameronhad got hit while apart from the others, he had to be brought in at allrisks. For his services he was mentioned in despatches, and received themedal and Khedival star. '[3]

Shortly after the close of the Egyptian War, Mr. Robertson received hiscommission. He served for some time as junior chaplain in London, andthen was removed to Dublin. From Dublin he went to Edinburgh, andremained there until he was ordered to South Africa, as a member ofGeneral Wauchope's staff and chaplain to the Highland Brigade. In SouthAfrica he has greatly distinguished himself, and it goes for saying that'Padre' Robertson, as he is affectionately called, is one of the mosthonoured and best-loved men in Her Majesty's army. 

We will, however, allow the head of the military work in thePresbyterian Church (the Rev. Dr. Marshall) to tell himself of Mr. Robertson's work in South Africa. We quote from an article published byhim in the _Home and Foreign Mission Record_:--

 'Of the work of the Rev. J. Robertson in the field, it is unnecessary to write, as the newspaper correspondents have referred so often to his bravery and splendid services. One correspondent writes to me: "It is no exaggeration to say that the whole of Methuen's army, and especially the Highland Brigade, deem his bravery worthy of the V. C. Everywhere, in train or camp, officers' mess or soldiers' tent, Padre Robertson is proclaimed a hero. " I was pleased to notice in the _Record_ (the Church of England weekly), the other day, a letter from the Church of England chaplain who is with Lord Methuen. After describing the battle of Magersfontein, he refers to the Highland Brigade: "Being chiefly Highlanders, they were in Robertson's charge. He, good-hearted fellow, was risking his life in the trenches and under fire to find General Wauchope's body. Why he was not killed in his fearless efforts I cannot say. " In one of the latest telegrams I see reference to him at the battle of Koodoosberg, whither he had accompanied General Macdonald and the Highland Brigade. "One interesting feature of the fighting was the activity of Chaplain Robertson. He acted in turns as a galloper, as a water-carrier, and as a stretcher-bearer. Wherever a ready hand was wanted, the chaplain was always to the fore, and won golden opinions from officers and men alike. "

 'You must not, however, suppose Mr. Robertson's exertions are altogether in the field or connected with matters which lie outside his duty as a minister of Christ. While employed by his general as a despatch rider and intermediary with the Boers, and in many other ways in which as "non-combatant" he could be useful to the army, and especially to his own Highlanders, he has given his chief thought and work to their spiritual concerns. We have all noticed his name in connection with the pathetic funeral of his much-loved chief, General Wauchope; but for days after each of the battles of Modder River and Magersfontein he was busy identifying and burying the dead. Being, as a Presbyterian minister, a _persona grata_ to the Boers, he was allowed nearer to their lines than any one else, in the discharge of those sad duties, and conducted many funerals both of Boer and Briton. Speaking of his feelings in the field hospital and alongside the burying trench he says: "War seems devil's work. But all the same, war has its better side, and out of evil has come good. Hearts have been softened. We have frequent meetings of an evening. Hundreds attend. I've never been at heart so touched myself, nor so evangelical. I seem to hear repeated, 'Woe is me if I preach not the Gospel. ' I thank God the Gospel at Modder is proving in not a few cases the power of God unto salvation. "'

In another letter to a mutual friend, Mr. Robertson speaks of hisservices on the last Sunday of the year, and as showing how deep is thespiritual impression produced, he wished me to be informed that at theclose of the short service he asked all who desired to partake of theHoly Communion to remain. To his joy some 250 officers and men came andtook their places at the Lord's Table. To any one who knows howdifficult it is to get soldiers to come to the Communion, that factspeaks volumes for the extent and depth of the religious movement amongour men. They have had much to make them serious. The death of theirbeloved General Wauchope and of so many of their comrades must havegreatly affected them. Mr. Robertson says, 'There is only one heart inthe Highland Brigade, and it is _sad and sore_. But good is beingbrought out of evil. '

At the meeting of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, heldthis year, the Moderator said he wished to read the following letterfrom Scottish soldiers at the front, which had just been put into hishands:--

 'WINBURG, _May 7th_, 1900. 

 'From the warrant officers, non-commissioned officers, and men of the Highland Brigade, to the Moderator of the General Assembly, Church of Scotland. 

 'Sir, --We, the undersigned, as representatives of the regiments now forming the Highland Brigade at present serving in South Africa under General Hector Macdonald, do hereby desire to express our appreciation of the untiring energy and praise-worthy zeal of Major J. Robertson, our chaplain, not only in camp, but also on the field. He is invariably among the first to succour our wounded, and many a Scottish mother's heart will be gladdened by the knowledge that her lad's last moments were brightened by our chaplain's kind administrations. At Magersfontein, Paardeberg, and other engagements, he was always to be found in the firing line, with a cheerful word or a kindly nod of encouragement, and on many occasions has acted as A. D. C. To our generals. Sir, soldiers are proverbially bad speakers, but we venture to request that this short note may be read aloud on the occasion of the meeting of the General Assembly at Edinburgh during May, 1900. '

The letter bore twenty-five signatures, including that of thesergeant-major and sergeants and corporals in the Black Watch, theHighland Light Infantry, the Seaforths, and the Argyll and SutherlandHighlanders. 

[Footnote 3: _St. Andrew_. ]

=Mr. Lowry at Magersfontein. =

Such was the man whom General Wauchope chose for his companion on thatfateful day. Rumour says that the General had a presentiment that hewould be killed, and certainly he asked Mr. Robertson to keep near him, perhaps longing for Christian society at the last. What really happened, perhaps we shall never know with any degree of certainty. All seems tohave been confusion. Perhaps the best and most connected account thathas come to us is from the pen of the Rev. E. P. Lowry, who was presentduring the battle. We quote from the _Methodist Times_:--

[Illustration: REV. E. P. LOWRY. 

(From a photograph by Neale, of Bloemfontein. )]

'Our second Sunday on the Modder River commenced so peacefully that wewere actually able to carry out in detail the various arrangementsfor voluntary parade services in different parts of this wide camp. Just a little this side of the great railway bridge, that lies shatteredby dynamite, is an excellent day-school building, which Messrs. Huskisson and Darroll, of the South African General Mission, succeededin requisitioning for the purposes of a Soldiers' Home, and excellentwork is being done in it, though necessarily on a small scale. Here, atseven o'clock in the morning, my first service was held and was graciousin its influence as well as cheering, by reason of the numbers present, including not a few whose faces had grown familiar to me in the homelandlong, long ago. Amid the stir and strain of actual war we sang of a "dayof rest and gladness"; and turned our thoughts to the Saviour who knowseach man "by name. " I then hurried back to the camp of the Guards'Brigade for a similar service in the open air at eight o'clock; but herea common type of confusion occurred. I had arranged to hold it in frontof the Scots Guards' camp, but in one battalion it was announced that itwould take place precisely where the Church of England service had justbeen held, and in another precisely where the Roman Catholic service hadjust been held. So before my service could begin, the shepherd had toseek his sheep and the sheep their shepherd. Finally, by severalinstalments, we got together, forming a circle, seated on the sand; andthen we gave ourselves to prayer and praise, followed by a briefsacramental service of glad remembrance and renewed consecration. A campmug and a camp plate placed on the bare sand for table betokened aritual of more than primitive simplicity; but thus on the eve of battledid a band of godly soldiers give themselves afresh to God in Christ. 

'A similar open-air service was fixed for the evening, but never cameoff. It may have been one of the sad necessities of war time, but was afact, nevertheless, deeply to be deplored, that at four o'clock onSunday afternoon our guns, which had been silent for a fortnight, againopened fire and shelled the Boers with lyddite. As I listened to thethunder and the thud of them I could not quite repress a wonder whetherthat was quite the best possible way of propitiating the God of battle. At eight o'clock, under cover of the darkness, we marched silently outof camp, confident and strong, and bivouacked till midnight just beyondthe river. Nearly every other night since we came upon this ground hadbeen brightened by starlight, but on this occasion rain had fallenduring the day, and dense darkness covered us at night. So, with mymackintosh wrapped around me, I lay for hours among the troops on thedamp ground awaiting the order to resume our midnight march. Soon afterone o'clock we were again on the move; but our only light was thetell-tale searchlight from Kimberley, and many a vivid flash oflightning, which only served to make the darkness visible. It was notlong, therefore, before the whole brigade hopelessly lost its way, andhad to halt by the hour, while the persistent rain drenched almost everyman, standing grimly silent, to the skin. 

'Precisely at earliest dawn the splendid Highland Brigade appears tohave stumbled into a horrible snare, and in such close formation as torender them absolutely helpless against their foes. Instantly theirgeneral fell, mortally wounded; for a moment the whole Brigade seemed ina double sense to have lost its head, and, in spite of the fierce andterribly effective fire of our artillery, there followed, not indeed anactual defeat, but none the less a grave disaster, involving furtherdelay in the relief of Kimberley and the loss of over 700 brave menkilled and wounded. 

=War's Terrible Harvest. =

'The incoming of the wounded to the hospital camp was the most pitifulsight my life has thus far brought me; but I scarce know which to admiremost--the patient endurance of the sufferers or the skilled devotion ofthe army doctors, whose outspoken hatred of war was still moreintensified by the gruesome tasks assigned them. 

'That night I slept on the floor of a captured Boer ambulance van, fitted up as a physic shop with shelves fitted with bottles mostlylabelled poison. It was for me, even thus sheltered, a bitterly coldnight, much more for the scores of wounded who lay all night upon thefield of battle. Early next morning I buried two, the first-fruits of alarge harvest, and later on learned that among the killed was theMarquis of Winchester, who a fortnight ago invited me to conduct thefuneral of his friend, Colonel Stopford. To-day I visited the twograves side by side in the same war-wasted garden, and thought of thetearful Christmas awaiting thousands in the mountains. '

=Mr. Robertson at Magersfontein. =

Add to this pathetic statement the following letter from the Rev. JamesRobertson, read by Principal Story to the General Assembly of the Churchof Scotland on May 25, 1900. The letter was dated Bloemfontein, April12:--

 'I have already buried over 400 men, killed in action or who died of wounds or disease; and our hospitals are full of enteric cases, day by day swelling the total. It goes without saying that--at Magersfontein especially, all alone, no one being allowed with me--it was terribly trying work collecting, identifying, and burying our dead, so many of whom were my own personal friends; but I experienced more than I ever did before how the hour of one's conscious weakness may become the hour of one's greatest strength. Of General Wauchope I won't write further than to say that I was beside him when he fell. I think he wished me to keep near him, but I got knocked down, and in the dark and wild confusion I was borne away, and did not see him again in life, though I spared no effort to find him, in the hope that he might be only wounded. As one of the correspondents wrote of him, he was a man of God, and a man among men--a fitting epithet. Not to mention other warm friends, in my own mess (General Wauchope's) there were seven of us on December 18; when next we sat down there were only two. We were a sad, a very sad, brigade, for though we tried to hide it, we took our losses to heart sorely; for "men of steel are men who feel. " But out of evil came good. The depth of latent religious feeling that was evoked in officers and men was a revelation to me; and were it not that confessions, and acknowledgments, and vows were too sacred for repetition, I could tell a tale that would gladden your hearts--not that I put too much stress on what's said or done at such an impressionable solemnising time, but after-proof of sincerity has not been wanting. '[4]

[Footnote 4: _Scotsman_, May 26, 1900. ]

='Prepare to meet your God!'=

A few more words may serve to complete the picture. 

When all at once the Highland Brigade stumbled upon the Boer trenches, and speedily all the officers of his company was struck down, Colour-Sergeant McMillan (we believe a member of the Salvation Army)found himself in charge, and, waving his arm, shouted to his men, 'Menof A Company, prepare to meet your God! Forward! Charge!' The nextmoment a bullet went through his brain, and he fell dead. But surelythat was not the time to prepare for such a dread meeting. Thank Godthat _he_ was ready. We have heard him singing for Jesus in the old campat home, and now he is singing in heaven. 

=A Christian Hero. =

Many hours passed ere the wounded could be relieved. They lay under thefierce rays of the African sun, suffering agonies from thirst, and nosuccour could reach them. At last there were those who ventured to theirhelp. But the wounded were many, and the helpers were few. Thewater-bottles were soon exhausted, but there was one soldier who had afew drops left. He saw two lads lying side by side in the agonies ofdeath. He went to the first and offered him the water still remaining inhis bottle. The dying man was parched with thirst, and he looked at thewater with a strange, sad longing, and then feebly shook his head. 'Nay, ' he said, 'give it to the other lad. _I_ have the water of life, 'and he turned round to die. _That_ was Christian heroism!

But we will not linger longer over this tragic and pathetic tale. Suffice it, all was done for the wounded that could possibly be done;and that Christian ministers committed reverently to the earth 'untilthe morning' those who fell so bravely and so suddenly at Magersfontein. 

Mr. Robertson shall close the chapter for us, in words as eloquent andas pathetic as any we have read for many years, and with his sad_requiem_ we will let the curtain drop on the tragedy of Magersfontein. 

[Illustration: REV. JAMES ROBERTSON. 

(By permission of the publishers of _St. Andrew_. )]

=The Scottish Dead at Magersfontein. =[5]

 'Our dead, our dear Scottish dead! How the corpse-strewn fields of the Modder, Magersfontein, Koodoosberg, and Paardeberg sorrowfully pass before me! Let me picture the scene, sad, yet not without its solace to those whose near and dear ones lie buried there, otherwise I would not paint it or reproduce my comments thereon, even by request. 'Tis only a miniature, with a few details, that I attempt to draw. One field--nay, one corner of the field--is descriptive of the rest, so I lift but a little of the dark-fringed curtain. 

 'Reverently, tenderly, lovingly handle them, and carefully identify them, for their own brave sakes, and that of the bereaved ones far away. There, you will find the identity card in the side-pocket. No, it's missing. Well, then, what's this? A letter; but the envelope's gone. Let me see the signature at the end. Ah, just as I thought, "Your loving mother!" God help her, poor body! Ah, boys, don't forget the dear mother in the old home. She never forgets you, but morning, noon, and night thinks and prays for her soldier-son. Mindfulness of her brings God's blessing; forgetfulness bitter remorse, when too late--after she's gone. There's something more in the breast-pocket. His parchment probably. No; something better still--a small copy of St. John's Gospel, with his name thereon. Let us hope that its presence there, when every extra ounce carried was a weighty consideration, is more than suggestive of thoughts of higher things. Pass on. No identity card on this body either, but another letter--a sweetheart's one. Oh, the poetry and pathos, the comedy and tragedy of love's young dream! Please see this burnt, sergeant; I don't wish others to read what was meant for his eye alone. Poor lassie! She'll feel it for a while; but Time is the great healer, and the young heart has wonderfully recuperative powers. There are only two kinds of love, men, that last till death and after--your mother's love and your God's--and both are yours, yearning for a return. 

 'Oh, here's a sad group--seven, eight, nine, close together. Who's that in front? An officer. I thought as much. _Noblesse oblige_. Yes, I know him. Are we to bring him with the others? did you ask. Certainly. What more appropriate resting-place than with the men he so nobly led, and who so gallantly followed him--all alike faithful to the death, giving their life for Queen and country! Pass on. Here are three, one close after the other, as they moved from the cover of this small donga. I saw them fall, vieing with one another for a foremost place, for here "honour travelled in a strait so narrow that only one could go abreast. " All three mere boys, but with the hearts of heroes. A book, did you say, in every one of their pockets? _Prayers for Soldiers_--well marked, too. My friend was right, dear mothers. There _is_ some comfort in the sadness--a gleam of sunshine showing through the gloom. 

 'Ah, how thick they lie! What a deadly hail of Mausers must have come from that rock-ribbed clump on the kopje. Three--and--twenty officers and men, promiscuously blent; and fully more on that little rise over there, as they showed in sight. God help their wives and mothers, and strengthen me for this sacred duty! Nay, men, don't turn away to hide the rising sob and tear. I'm past that. I've got a new ordination in blood and tears. It's nothing to be ashamed of--so far the opposite, it does you honour, for "men of finest steel are men who keenest feel. " Look at this man with the field-dressing in his hand, shot while necessarily exposing himself, trying to do what he could for a wounded comrade. Noble, self-sacrificing fellow! Such deeds illumine the dark page of war. Of a truth, some noble qualities grow under war's red rain. Methinks I hear the Master's voice, "Well done, good and faithful servant, inasmuch as ye did it to the least of these, ye did it unto Me. " Yes! Get these two groups together; we'll make a trench midway. More Gospels and prayer-books, and friendly words for soldiers, and Christian mottoes! I thank God for that. The sight of them cheers me. Perhaps it should not, but it does. They knew, at least, of the Father's forgiving love, and in their better moments must have thought thereof, otherwise these books would not be there at such a time; and though it does not do to presume too much thereon, who can set a limit to God's mercy? Who can say what passed in those closing moments, while the life-blood was ebbing away? Often in the field I think of Scott's dying soldier--

 "Between the saddle and the ground, He mercy sought and mercy found. "

 Oh, here's an officer I've been expecting to find. I knew he was missing, for I especially asked. He had a presentiment amounting to a preintimation of his coming end. In vain I argued with him. He calmly gave me his last messages. I've known several such. "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy. " Thank God, when he said "the hour of my departure's come, " he was able to add, "I hear the voice that calls me _home_" and "is the traveller sad, " he asked, "when his face is turned _homeward_?"

 'Who's that you've got next? Oh, I know him well. We rejoiced together. Come here, all of you, and look on his face. I'm not to preach, boys--we have other work to do--but I wish you to lay his case to heart. Some of you know him. You know the stand he took at one of our meetings at the Modder River station, and what proof he afterwards gave of the sincerity of his profession. Look at his face. What a sweet, peaceful expression--what a contrast to his surroundings! Death swift and sudden, in the horrid din of battle stript of all its terrors. As earth's light faded he must have got a glimpse of the glory beyond, for it's reflected in his face. That's what Christ can do, and came to do, for a man. 

 'Sergeant, get some of the handiest of the men to break up these empty ammunition-boxes and construct a rude cross for the trench. It's the most appropriate "memorial. " It signifies self-sacrifice, and did they not, "obedient unto death, " give their lives for others; it indicates the cheering hope in which we lay them to rest. By-and-by, we will erect something more permanent, and place a fence around, for 'tis holy ground, consecrated by tearful prayer and by the very fact that the remains of brave men mingle there. Scotland to-day is poorer in men, but richer in heroes?

 "Saviour, in Thy gracious keeping, Leave we now our loved ones sleeping. "'

[Footnote 5: _St. Andrew_, June 7, 1900. ]

Chapter VII

THOMAS ATKINS ON THE VELDT

It will be a relief to turn from this sad record and give a sketch ofThomas Atkins upon the veldt as he appears to Christian workers. Nowhereelse have we been able to see him apart from the fierce temptationswhich particularly assail him. Untrained, except in so far as militarydiscipline is concerned, he is a child of nature, and nature not alwaysof the best. 

But the South African veldt has witnessed the remarkable spectacle of asober army. No intoxicating drink was to be got, and the cup that cheersbut not inebriates has been Tommy's only stimulant. 

A further fact must be borne in mind. War has a sobering effect evenamong the most reckless. A man is face to face with eternal things, andthough after a little while the influence of this to some extent passesoff, and either an unhealthy excitement or an equally unhealthycallousness takes its place, it never wholly goes, and any seriousbattle suffices to bring the man to his senses again. 

=The Soldier's Temptations. =

The consequence of these things has been that we have seen the soldierat his best in South Africa--and that best has often been of a very highorder. It is no kindness to him to make light of his vices, and theyhave been sufficiently pronounced even there. 

We are afraid, to begin with, that we must confess to an army ofswearers. It seems natural to the soldier to swear. He intersperses hisconversation with words and phrases altogether unmeaning and anythingbut elegant. It is his habit so to do, and even the Christian soldierwho has belonged to this swearing set often finds it a great difficultyto break away from his old habits. 

='Old Praise the Lord. '=

An amusing and pathetic instance of this comes to our mind. A soldierwho worked at the forge was soundly converted to God, and as usual hadto go through the ordinary course of persecution. It was astonishing howmany pieces of iron fell upon his feet, and how often a rod was thrustinto his back! At such occurrences prior to his conversion he would havesworn dreadfully, and he had to guard himself with the greatest carelest some ungodly word should escape his lips. And so when any extracruelty in the shape of a red-hot piece of iron came too near, or aheavy weight was dropped upon his toes, he used to cry, 'Praise theLord. ' 'Old Praise the Lord' they called him, and truly he often hadsufficient reason for some such exclamation. He came to the Soldiers'Fellowship Meeting one night, and told how he had been tested to thelimit. He had taken his money out of the Savings Bank, and locked it inhis box; but the box had been broken open, and the money taken away. Hestood and looked at it, hands clenched, teeth set. For a moment the fireof anger flashed in his eyes, and words that belonged only to the longago sprang to his lips. A year's savings had gone. The promised trip tothe old home could not be taken. And a vision of the old mother waitingfor her boy, and waiting in vain, brought a big lump in his throat whichit was difficult to choke down. The lads stood and looked at him. Whatwould he do? And then that strange fire died out of his eyes, and hishands relaxed their grasp, and with the light of love shining out fromhis face he said, 'Praise the Lord, ' and came into the meeting to tellhow God was flooding his soul with His love. 

But the number of such as he in comparison with those who still pollutethe air with their oaths is small indeed, and we have sorrowfully toadmit that ours has been a swearing army upon the veldt. 

Gambling, too, has been very rife, and if there was a penny to spinTommy would spin it. This, of course, is not by any means true of allregiments, and as one of French's cavalry naïvely put it, 'You see, sir, we had not even time to gamble!'

There are some brutes even among our British soldiers, and sad storiesreach us of men who have robbed the sick in hospital, and stripped thedead upon the battlefield. But swearing and gambling apart, and thesehorrible exceptions left out of the reckoning, what noble fellows oursoldiers have proved themselves!

=The Patience of our Soldiers. =

Their patience has been wonderful. We have all heard of the _patient_ox, and away there on the veldt he has patiently toiled at his yokeuntil he has laid down and died. But the patience of the private soldierhas exceeded the patience of the ox. He has undergone some of theseverest marches in history. He has endured privations such as we canhardly imagine. He has lain wounded upon the veldt sometimes for threeor, at any rate in one case, for four days. He has in his wounded stateborne the terrible jolting of the ox-waggon day after day. If you talkto him about it, he will not complain of any one, but will make light ofall his dreadful sufferings and merely remark that you cannot expect tobe comfortable in time of war!

And how much he has endured! The difficulties of transport have made itimpossible for him to receive more than half rations, and sometimes notmore than a quarter rations for days together. On the march toKimberley, for instance, General French's troops for four days hadnothing to eat but what they could pick upon the hungry veldt. Stealinghas been abolished in South Africa--it is all commandeering now!

'Where did you get that chicken, my lad?' asks the officer in angrytones. 

'Commandeered it, sir, ' says Tommy, and the officer is appeased. 

And there was plenty of commandeering done during that dreadful march, or the men would have died of starvation. A strange spectacle he musthave presented as he rode along. His kettle slung across his saddle, abundle of sticks somewhere else, a packet of Quaker oats fastened to hisbelt, and a tin of golden syrup dangling from it. These he had providedfor himself from the last dry canteen he had visited, and often eventhese could not be obtained. 

What stories are told us of sticks and Quaker oats! They say that whenthe troops started with Sir Redvers Buller from Colenso each man had hisbundle of sticks and a packet of Quaker oats fastened somewhere uponhim. His canteen was as black as coal, but that did not matter. And ifhe had his sticks and his Quaker oats, and could manage to get a little'water' that was not more than usually khaki-coloured, he was a happyman. So as he marched along he was always on the look-out for sticks andwater. The two together furnished him with all things necessary: thesticks soon made the water boil, and the Quaker oats made--tea!

=The Men in Khaki. =

As regards dress he was a picture! He started khaki-clad, and no onecould tell one regiment from another, but he was only allowed to takethe suit he wore to the front, and before long, what with marching andsandstorms and fighting, that suit became unrecognisable as a suit. Bitby bit it went. Tailors of the most amateur description plied theirneedles and thread upon it in vain. It went! and Tommy's distressoccasionally knew no bounds. We hear of one man who at last marched intoLadysmith with two coat sleeves but no coat; of another with not a bitof khaki about him, but garments of one sort and another 'commandeered'as he went along. One of the facts that impressed them most as theymarched into Ladysmith was that the garrison were clean and neatlydressed in khaki, but that _they_--bearded, dirty, ragged--looked ratherthe rescued than the rescuers!

Mr. Lowry tells how when at last he determined to have his khaki suitwashed, and retired to his tent to wait the arrival of his clothes fromthe amateur laundry on the banks of the Modder, it seemed as though theywould never come, and he was fearful lest the order to advance shouldarrive before his one suit returned from the wash!

But through it all our men kept cheerful. One Christian man who hadearned among his comrades the nickname of 'Smiler, ' and who was wounded, signs himself, 'Still smiling, with a hole in my back. ' And this wastypical of all. During that dreadful march to overtake Cronje, theofficers of the Guards had as their mess-table on one occasion arectangular ditch about eighteen inches wide and as many deep. It wasdug so as to enclose an oblong piece of ground about sixteen feet byeight, which, flattened as much as possible, served as table. At thisearth table, with their feet in the muddy ditch, sat severalrepresentatives of England's nobility, but as our soldier lad said, 'Still smiling. ' When the rain came down and deluged both officers andmen, and sleep was impossible, tentless on the veldt and seated in themud, the men hour after hour sang defiance to the storm. 

How kind they were to one another! How brave to save a fallen comrade orofficer! One of our chaplains relates that in the advance to Ladysmithan officer was struck down and could not be moved. When the regimentretired, and his men knew their officer would have to stay there duringthe night, four of them elected to remain, and one of them lay at hishead, another at his feet, and one on each side to shield him from theBoer bullets which were flying around. 

But we must not be tempted into stories such as these. They abound, andif the Victoria Cross could be given wherever it was deserved, the sightof it upon the breast would be common indeed!

=Their Dread of the 'Pom-pom. '=

Of one thing, however, our men were afraid--the dreaded 'pom-pom' of theBoers. Some two hundred one-pound shells a minute these Vickers-Maximguns are supposed to fire. But as a matter of fact we are told thenumber rarely reached a score. Still the dull pom-pom-pom of the gun, with the knowledge that shell after shell was coming, always made Tommyshake; and when he got to the camp fire at night, one man would say toanother, 'I cannot get used to it. It frightens me nearly out of mylife. '

=The Christian under Fire. =

We have asked many of our Christian soldiers how they felt when theywent into fire. All sorts of answers have been given. Most haveconfessed to a nervous tremor at first. Said a lance-corporal of the12th Lancers: 'The worst time I ever had was when we were relievingKimberley. There were Boers in front of us and Boers on our flank. Werode through a perfect hail of bullets. At first I wondered if I shouldget through it, and then I became utterly oblivious of shells andbullets. I rode steadily on, and the only thing that concerned me as werode right for the Boer position was to keep my horse out of the ruts. '

Perhaps this is the general experience. No thought of turning back, noparticular fear, no great exultation, simply a keeping straight on. Nowonder from before such a wall of determination the Boers fled for theirlives. 

The soldier's great complaint is that he has been kept ill-informed ofthe progress of events. He has simply been a pawn on the chess-board, ora cog in the great wheel. And he laments that often at the end of a longday's march or fighting he lies down to rest in his wet ragged clothes, not knowing where he is or whether he has accomplished little or much. 

This is inevitable, of course, and the officers themselves were, inmany cases, but little better informed. But one and all have implicitfaith in their generals, and those who added to that faith implicittrust in God could after the most trying days lie down and rest inperfect peace. Even at his worst the British soldier is capable ofbetter things, and out there upon the veldt he has many a time thoughtof God, and wondered what possibilities for good there were within him. Going to the front has made a _new_ man of Tommy. It remains to be seenwhether in the easier times of peace the _old_ man will come back. 

Chapter VIII

WITH LORD ROBERTS TO BLOEMFONTEIN

The advent of that splendid Christian soldier, Field-Marshal LordRoberts of Kandahar, put an entirely different face upon the war. Hecame with a heavy sorrow resting upon him. His son had been struck downat the front, earning, however, the Victoria Cross by a conspicuous actof bravery before he died. He himself had by long service earned theright to rest upon his laurels. He was an old man, but at the call ofduty he cheerfully left home and friends, and, with heart sore at hisgreat loss, went out to win for England the victory in South Africa. Hisfirst thought was to send for Lord Kitchener, and when these two menlanded in South Africa England knew that all things possible would beaccomplished. 

And surely their task was great. England's prestige had sufferedseverely. Lord Methuen had fought at Belmont, Graspan, Modder River andMagersfontein, but the enemy's entrenchments were apparently as strongas ever and Kimberley as far off. 

On the other side of the field of operations Sir Redvers Buller wasconfronted with insurmountable obstacles, and his forces seemedaltogether inadequate for the task before him. Gallant little Mafekingwas holding out, but with no hope of speedy relief. How Lord Roberts'advent changed all this in a few brief weeks the country knows rightwell. 

=Lord Roberts Issues a Prayer for Use in the Army. =

Perhaps the most remarkable fact in the history of this or any war isthat a few days after landing in South Africa Lord Roberts issued aprayer for the use of the troops. Many army orders have been issuedwhich have stirred the blood and fired the heroism of the Britishsoldier as he has gone forth to fight for his country or has returnedtriumphant from the field. 

'When on the eve of Trafalgar the signal floated out from the mast-headof the _Victory_, "England expects every man to do his duty, " it told ofthe exalted courage of the hero who was about to fight his last fightand win his last victory. It kindled a like courage in every man whoread it, and it ever after became a living word, a voice that is heardeverywhere, an inspiration to our race. 

'But an army encouraged to pray, an army order in which thecommander-in-chief hopes that "a prayer may be helpful to all herMajesty's soldiers now serving in South Africa"! And doubtless many ofour comrades have so used the prayer that now they know all theblessings of pardon, purity, power and comfort which it teaches them toask of God. '[6]

THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF'S LETTER. 

 'ARMY HEADQUARTERS, CAPE TOWN, _January 23rd_. 

 'DEAR SIR, --I am desired by Lord Roberts to ask you to be so kind as to distribute to all ranks under your command the "Short Prayer for the use of Soldiers in the Field, " by the Primate of Ireland, copies of which I now forward. 

 'His Lordship earnestly hopes that it may be helpful to all of her Majesty's soldiers who are now serving in South Africa. 

 'Yours faithfully, 'NEVILLE CHAMBERLAIN, Colonel, Private Secretary. 

 'To the Commanding Officer. '

THE PRAYER. 

 'Almighty Father, I have often sinned against Thee. O wash me in the precious blood of the Lamb of God. Fill me with Thy Holy Spirit, that I may lead a new life. Spare me to see again those whom I love at home, or fit me for Thy presence in peace. 

 'Strengthen us to quit ourselves like men in our right and just cause. Keep us faithful unto death, calm in danger, patient in suffering, merciful as well as brave, true to our Queen, our country, and our colours. 

 'If it be Thy will, enable us to win victory for England, and above all grant us the better victory over temptation and sin, over life and death, that we may be more than conquerors through Him who loved us, and laid down His life for us, Jesus our Saviour, the Captain of the Army of God. Amen. '

We venture to speak of the issue of this beautiful prayer as the mostnotable fact in the history of the war. We do not remember that anythingof the kind has ever been done before. It testifies to the personaltrust of the British general in God, it takes for granted that ours wasa righteous cause, and it recognises the fact that above the thronewhich we all reverence and respect there is another throne--the throneof God. 

[Footnote 6: _Army and Navy Messenger_, April, 1900. ]

=The Christian Influence of Lord Roberts. =

Lord Roberts had been for years the idol of the troops. It was touchingto hear our Christian soldiers at Aldershot pray for 'dear LordRoberts, ' or familiarly speak of him as 'our Bobs. ' All their fears wentwhen they knew he was going to the front, and they were ready to followhim anywhere. Moreover, the Christian soldiers always remember that hewas the founder of the 'Army Temperance Association, ' which has becomesuch a power for good all over the world. 

He is a gentle, lovable man. The story is told that soon after the entryof the troops into Pretoria Lord Roberts was missing, and when at lasthe was discovered he was sitting in a humble room with two littlechildren upon his knees. The officer who found him apologised forintruding, but said that important business required attention. LordRoberts merely looked up smiling and said, 'Don't you see I am engaged?'

But Lord Roberts is not only a Christian man, he is a great soldier. This is what concerns the country most; only in his kindliness andChristianity we have the assurance that he will never unnecessarilysacrifice life, and that he will enter upon no enterprise upon which hecannot ask the blessing of God. To our chaplains and other Christianworkers his sympathy and help have been invaluable. 

It is outside the purpose of this book to follow the general in hismovements, or to discuss the scheme which turned the victorious Cronjeinto a vanquished and captured foe. Suffice it to say that that greatflanking movement--perhaps the greatest on record--has won theadmiration of all military critics, and, brilliantly conceived, was asbrilliantly carried out. 

There was a stir at the Modder River for some little time before theactual advance took place. Lord Roberts had come and gone. Variouslittle attacks on some part of the enemy's position--some real, someonly feints--had taken place. Every one wondered, none knew what wouldbe the next order of the day. For two months they had been waiting atthe Modder River, and they were heartily tired of their inaction. Eventhe shells from Magersfontein, which had fallen every day but ChristmasDay, had become a part of the daily monotony. It had been a glorioustime for Christian workers, and that was all that could be said. 

But even the Christians were longing for an advance. By-and-by came thesummons to the cavalry, and off they went, not knowing whether it wasfor an ordinary reconnaissance or for something more serious, and littledreaming what they would be called upon to do. For them untilBloemfontein was reached all definite Christian work was at an end. Allthat the Christians could do was to get together for a short time amongthe rocks, when the long day's work was done, to talk and pray. And yetthese cavalry men look back upon those few moments snatched from sleepas among the most precious in the whole war. They had been in the saddlefor many hours at a stretch; on one occasion at any rate the saddles hadnot been taken off the horses for thirty-six hours. 

=Religious Meetings while on the March. =

It seemed as though General French would never tire. He rode on farahead of his men--stern, taciturn, resolved--as they rushed across theveldt to Kimberley, or hastened to the doom of Cronje. Our soldiers didtheir best to follow, and did so till their horses dropped dying or deadupon the veldt. It says much for their Christian enthusiasm that aftersuch days as these, and knowing that only two or three hours' sleep wasbefore them, they should step out of the lines and meet behind some rockto pray. They talked of the old home, of Aldershot, of Sergeant-MajorMoss and his class. They pictured to themselves what we should all bedoing at home, and then they knelt in prayer. Very touching were thoseprayers, very sweet that Christian intercourse. Its precious memory ischerished still. And then they would sing a verse--one of the soldiers'favourites--perhaps:--

 'Some one will enter the pearly gate, By-and-by, by-and-by; Taste of the glories that there await-- Shall you, shall I?'

Or may be that soldiers' favourite _par excellence_ would be rungout--the 'Six further on, ' of which they all speak:--

 'Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine; Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine! Heir of salvation, purchase of God, Born of His Spirit, washed in His blood. '

And then a verse of 494:--

 'God be with you till we meet again. '

And then back to the lines for rest and sleep. 'Good-night, Jim. ''Good-night, my boy. ' '494. ' 'Aye! and "Six further on. "' And so theypart. A delightful picture! a sad one too! Who knows whether they willever meet on earth again?

=The March to Paardeberg. =

Meanwhile, on Sunday, Feb. 17, 1900, the Guards had been suddenlyordered to follow the cavalry from Modder River. At the mess thatevening the chaplains had been positively assured by the officerspresent that there would be no move until Wednesday at the earliest. Little they knew what was in the mind of the great general! But late atnight the summons came, and within two hours the whole brigade ofGuards, suddenly roused out of sleep and called in from outpost duty, were marching out into the darkness. Whither they did not know. Theytook with them neither blanket nor overcoat, but, as their chaplainsays, 'only an ample store of pluck and smokeless powder. ' They did notstop till they had covered about twenty miles, and before theirdestination was reached hardly a man of them fell out. They too werepart of the great movement--a movement that would continue until theymarched into Bloemfontein with Lord Roberts. 

=The Chaplains on the March. =

The chaplains were not allowed to accompany them. They followed with thedoctors and the baggage. Whether they were considered impedimenta or notthey hardly knew. Certainly their work was over for a short time, to berenewed all too soon when the first batch of wounded came down from theever-advancing front. 

So the senior Church of England chaplain and the senior Wesleyanchaplain trudged off side by side, and marched steadily through thenight until, about sunrise, they set foot for the first time since theyhad landed in South Africa on hostile soil. A few miles further on theypassed a deserted Boer camp, and among the _débris_ strewing the floorof a farm-house found two English Bibles. 

About nine o'clock in the morning Jacobsdal was reached. In England itwould be called a village, for it had only seven hundred inhabitants;but it was quite an important town in those parts. 

Here a halt was called and a few hours' rest permitted. Mr. Lowryclimbed into a captured Boer ambulance, and found lying on the floor ofit a Dutch Reformed minister, the Rev. T. N. Fick, who had been GeneralCronje's chaplain, and who only the night before had joined in thegeneral flight from Magersfontein. These two, both ministers of theGospel, had been for two months on different sides of the famous kopje. One had been praying for the success of the Boer arms and the other forthe success of the English! And yet here they lay side by side inamicable Christian converse. Strange are the ways of war!

But though the chaplains were denied the privilege of proceeding to thefront with the soldiers, two Christian workers at any rate--we have notheard of more--managed to secure that privilege. By the kindness of LordMethuen, and as a token of his appreciation of their efforts for themen, Mr. Percy Huskisson and Mr. Darroll, of the South African GeneralMission, were attached to the Bearer Company of the Highland Brigade. 'On Monday, February 12th, they went out, not knowing whither they weregoing. Their luggage was limited to changes of socks and shirts andrugs, but at the last moment they managed to get permission to take alittle box of food also. At about five o'clock on Monday afternoon theyentrained in open trucks, which were shared alike by officers and men;at about eleven o'clock at night they got out at Enslin, and slept onthe veldt surrounded by horses, oxen, and mules. At four in the morningthe whole camp was astir, and by half-past seven the entire force was onthe march. '[7]

Then followed the capture of the British convoy, consisting of some twohundred waggons, and meaning to our army the loss of about a millionpounds of food. Every one was put on quarter rations, consisting of abiscuit and a half a day and half a tin of 'bully' beef. On such a foodsupply as this were our troops expected to perform their terrible march. Until they passed Jacobsdal they thought they were going to the reliefof Kimberley, but all unknown to them General French's cavalry hadalready performed that feat, and the direction of their march waschanged. It was theirs to follow in pursuit of Cronje instead. In oneterrible twenty-four hours they marched thirty-eight miles, and onSunday morning, February 18th, they reached Paardeberg. Thoroughlyexhausted, the men flung themselves upon the ground to sleep, but aftertwo or three hours the artillery fire roused them from their slumbersand the order came to advance. There was no time for breakfast, and fromfive o'clock in the morning until late at night they had to go withoutfood. 

The battle of Paardeberg is not likely to be forgotten by any of thosewho were engaged in it. The Boers commanded the left of the HighlandBrigade, and as it advanced on level ground, and destitute of cover, itwas exposed to a terrible fire. 

Messrs. Huskisson and Darroll went into the firing line with theHighlanders. Men fell on all sides of them, and they had numberlesschances of helping the wounded. Of course they had many hairbreadthescapes during this awful day, but they were abundantly rewarded by theprivilege of straight talk and prayer with the wounded men, who werethankful indeed for such ministrations as they could offer. 

[Footnote 7: _The Surrounding of Cronje_. ]

=Relief of the Wounded at Paardeberg. =

We venture to quote a few paragraphs from a little booklet published bythe South African General Mission, entitled _The Surrounding of Cronje_. It sets forth in vivid language the heroic work done by these two in themidst of the heat and fury of the battle, and Christian men in allchurches will honour the brave men who fought so nobly for God in theinterests of those who were fighting so nobly for their country. 

 'During the day, as Mr. Huskisson was helping a wounded man back to the hospital, he had a very narrow shave of being shot. The wounded man had his arm round Mr. Huskisson's neck for support, and as they were walking back to the rear a Mauser bullet shot off the tip of the man's finger, as it was resting on Mr. Huskisson's shoulder. Had there not been the weight of the man's arm to depress the body this would have resulted in a nasty wound in the shoulder. At another time the case of field glasses hanging by his side was hit by a bullet. 

 'Our workers could often see that they were specially aimed at by the Boers, as the moment they raised their heads a small volley of bullets would fly all around them. Sometimes they had to lie down for long periods, on account of this. At one stage of the battle, one of our men was lying down behind a tree, and a sharpshooter was perched in another tree. If even the foot was moved an inch or two beyond the tree a bullet would come with a "ping, " and a little puff of dust would show how keenly every movement was watched. 

=Singing though Wounded. =

 'While helping one wounded man, Mr. Huskisson heard his name called out, and looking round, saw the face of one of the men who had been converted in our Soldiers' Home at Wynberg, some years ago. Going up to the lad he said:--

 '"Are you wounded?"

 '"Yes, " said the man, "but praise God it is not in my head. "

 'A bullet had gone right through the back of his neck, and though he was bleeding profusely he was humming a chorus to himself. 

 'Later on a Major came up and said to Mr. Huskisson--"Do you know that lad?"

 'On hearing that he did, the Major said, "He is the most chirpy man that has been in the dressing-room to-day; he was brought in singing a hymn. "

 'When Mr. Huskisson turned away from him, he left him still humming one of our favourite choruses; and an unconverted man was heard to say later on, "A chap coming in like that to the dressing-room does more good than anything else, as he keeps the fellows' spirits up so. "

 'There were, of course, many terribly sad sights--enough to make our men feel as if war could hardly ever be justifiable. One poor Highlander was lying dying, and on our men asking him if he knew God, received no answer; but on repeating the question the dying man said that he did once, but he had evidently grown cold in his love to Christ. It was _such_ a cheer to be able to point out, that though his feelings towards God had changed, _yet God's feelings and love toward him had not changed!_'

Events like these differentiate this war from many other wars. They arean eloquent testimony to the force of Christianity. They disclose thepower of a supreme affection towards Christ. They declare that the mosttoilsome duty can be transformed by love into the most blessedprivilege. They show that there is no compulsion but the compulsion oflove in the Christian workers' orders, so often sung, --

 'Where duty calls, or danger, Be never wanting there. '

=The Chaplains at Work. =

And now came the chaplains' work! It is not in the firing line that warseems the most dreadful. It is when the wounded are gathered from thefield, and the results of the battle are seen in all their ghastliness. And in this case the wounded could not be tended where they were. It wasonward, ever onward, with our men. Only two hospitals, instead of atleast ten--the number the doctors thought necessary--had been sent tothe front, and the wounded must be got back to base hospitals as quicklyas possible. 

Back they came, a ghastly procession, in heavy, lumbersome ox-waggons, with no cover from the sun or rain. Oh! the terrible jolting; oh! thescreams of agony. 'Better kill us right out, ' cried the men, 'than makeus endure any more!'

It is not for us to say that all this was unnecessary. It is for othersto judge. You cannot conduct war in picnic fashion. The country ought toknow its horrors and get its fill of them. But we will not attempt thedescription. Already others have done that. Suffice it to say that thebaggage camp, in which were the chaplains and some of the doctors, seemed an oasis in the desert to these agonized travellers. 

The day for parade services had gone by, and all days were now the same;but there was other work the chaplains could do, and this they attemptedto the best of their ability. 

[Illustration: BRINGING BACK THE WOUNDED. ]

The Rev. E. P. Lowry wrote:--

 'Yesterday a long convoy arrived bearing over 700 sick and wounded men. They were brought, for the most part, over the rough roads in open waggons (captured from the Boers) from the fatal front, where days before they had been stricken more or less severely. They still had a long journey before them, and it so happened that they set out from here in the midst of a thunderstorm; but as I passed from one waggon to another I found them bearing their miseries as only brave men could. About 300 of them belonged to the unfortunate Highland Brigade. One of these had been shot through the wrist of his left hand at Magersfontein, and he was now returning shot through the wrist of his right hand. The next, said he, with gruesome playfulness, will be through the head. Corporal Evans, of the Gloucesters--one of two brothers whose name is much honoured at Aldershot--I found in the midst of this huge convoy stricken with dysentery. The Cornwalls seemed to have suffered almost as heavily in proportion as the Highlanders, and it was to me no small privilege to be permitted to speak a word of Christian solace and good cheer to men from my own county. 

=The Wounded Canadians. =

 'But I was struck most of all by the number of noble-looking Canadians among this big batch of wounded soldiers, all of them proudly glorying in being permitted to serve and suffer in the name of so great a Queen and in defence of so glorious an Empire. Among them I found Colour-Sergeant Thompson, the son of one of our American Methodist ministers, Rev. James Thompson. Resting against the inner side of a waggon-wheel was a most gentlemanly Canadian, shot through the throat, and quite unable to swallow any solids. To him, as to several others, I was privileged to carry a large cup of life-renewing milk. Lying on another waggon was a middle-aged Canadian, shot through the mouth, and apparently unable at present to swallow anything without pain; but he begged me, if possible, to buy for him some cigarettes, that he might have the solace of a smoke. But there is nothing of any kind on sale within miles of this camp. Yet the cigarette, however, was not long sought in vain; and a word of Christian greeting was made none the less welcome by the gift. Lying by this man's side was a wounded French-Canadian, who could scarcely speak in English, but had come from far to defend the Empire which claimed him also as its loyal son; and yet another sufferer told me that he had come from Vancouver, a distance of 11, 000 miles, to risk, or, if needs be, to lay down his life for her who is his Queen as well as ours. As in the name of the Motherland I thanked these men for thus rallying around our common flag in the hour of peril, and tenderly urged them to be as loyal to the Christ as to their Queen, the meaning look and hearty hand-grip spoke more eloquently to me than any words. In almost every case the responsive heart was there. Of these Canadians--the first contingent--our generals speak in terms of highest praise; but already some twenty have been killed and nearly seventy severely wounded. The Dominion mourns to-day her heroic dead as we mourn ours. They sleep side by side beneath these burning sands; but thus are forged the more than golden chains which bind the hearts of a widely-sundered race to the common throne around which we all are rallying. '[8]

The scene here depicted is one which must be imagined not once but manytimes during that terrible march from the Modder to Bloemfontein. Ittells in simple but eloquent language how Christian kindliness tried toassuage human woe. 

[Footnote 8: _Methodist Times_. ]

Chapter IX

KIMBERLEY DURING THE SIEGE AND AFTER

The siege of Kimberley began on Sunday, October 15, 1899, and continueduntil Thursday, February 15, 1900. It was somewhat unexpected, foralthough so near the border it was hardly expected that the Boers wouldinvade British territory. In fact, so little did the militaryauthorities at Cape Town anticipate a siege that it was with greatdifficulty the Kimberley inhabitants secured any military assistance. OnSeptember 21, however, a detachment of 500 men of the Loyal Lancashires, Royal Artillery, and Royal Engineers, under the command ofLieutenant-Colonel Kekewich, put in an appearance. These were the onlyregular troops in the town, and but a handful in face of the Boersgathering on the frontier. 

There were, of course, local volunteer regiments--the Kimberley Rifles, the Diamond Fields Artillery, and the Diamond Fields Horse--and therewere also about 400 men of the Cape Mounted Police. But what were theseto guard the treasures of the Diamond City and its population of 50, 000souls?

=The Defence of Kimberley. =

It was evident that Kimberley must set to work to defend itself, andthat it did right nobly. A town guard was formed consisting of about2, 500 men, but they were men of all sorts and conditions. Never wasthere a happier or a more ill-assorted family! A director of De Beersside by side with a needy adventurer; a millionaire shoulder to shoulderwith a beggar! There they were! all sorts and conditions of men, but allanimated by one great purpose--to keep the flag flying. 

By-and-by the lack of cavalry was severely felt, and Mr. Cecil Rhodes, resourceful as ever, brought up some 800 horses, and the Kimberley LightHorse--now a famous regiment--came into being. The command of it wasgiven to Colonel Scott-Turner, and it was composed of the best ridersand keenest shots that could be found. Plenty of these were fortunatelyavailable and they greatly distinguished themselves. 

No one thought of surrender, and when the length of the siege drew intoweeks and from weeks into months, and food ran short and water was cutoff, they still kept cheerful. They knew they were practically safe fromassault. Surrounding the town is a belt of level country some six mileswide, and they felt certain the Boers dare not cross this belt and facethe fire that would be poured into them from the huge cinder heaps whichhad been transformed into forts. 

By-and-by the number of shells dropped into the town increased rapidly. New and more powerful guns were brought to bear upon it, and no man'slife was safe. They did their best to reply, and actually, under thedirection of Mr. George Abrams (chief engineer of De Beers), theymanufactured a 30-pounder gun called 'Long Cecil, ' which provedeffective at a range of 10, 000 yards. Unfortunately, Mr. Abrams washimself killed by a shell not long after he had completed this greatwork. 

From time to time sorties were carried out, and in the boldest of themall, when the Kimberley men got so near that they could look down theirenemy's guns, Colonel Scott-Turner was killed. 

=Perils of the Siege. =

But notwithstanding all they could do the enemy's attack grew fiercer. It is estimated that between three and four thousand shells fell inKimberley during the siege, and the destruction wrought by these wasvery great. Most of the churches suffered seriously. Many women andchildren lost their lives. If there was any special function of any kindin progress the Boers were almost sure to know about it and give ittheir marked attention. 

Bugle calls, taken up and repeated through the town, warned the peopleof coming shells, and then they knew they had only fifteen seconds toreach some place of shelter. Bomb-proof shelters were improvised, caveswere dug by the side of houses, and into these the inhabitants ran, with more speed than ceremony, when those bugle notes were heard. 

It was, however, felt unsafe to allow the women and children to remainlonger in the town, and by the kindness of the De Beers Company theywere lowered into the mines, and there for a full week they lived. Amongthe rest the families of the Baptist and Wesleyan ministers were loweredthere. It happened that these two reverend gentlemen met in the streetshortly after the descent of their families, and on parting the Baptistsaid to the Methodist--all unconscious of the suggestiveness of hisstatement--'Good-bye, my friend; we shall soon meet again either aboveor below!'

It was no laughing matter, however, to the thousands of women andchildren living day and night in the mine tunnels some eight or twelvethousand feet below the surface. Theirs was a pitiable condition, andhow much longer they could have held out had not help come it isdifficult to say. 

All this time the Kimberley searchlight was night by night searching theneighbourhood lest any Boers under cover of the darkness should approachthe town; and for most of the time, by heliograph or searchlight, theauthorities were in communication with Lord Methuen on the other side ofthose forbidding kopjes. And yet help came not, and the situation wasbecoming desperate. 

=Various Forms of Christian Work during the Siege. =

In the first place refugee relief work was attempted and successfullycarried out. Large numbers had fled for refuge to Kimberley when war wasdeclared, and many of these were penniless. A fund of some £3, 000 wasraised, and a committee composed of all the ministers of the towncarried out the work of relief. Throughout the siege all the ordinaryservices with one or two exceptions were maintained, and though the menfor the most part were on duty, yet the congregations were remarkablygood and the men were present whenever they could get away. 

The Wesleyan Church has eight churches in Kimberley. As soon as themilitary camps were formed, the Rev. James Scott organized services forthe troops. The Rev. W. H. Richards, the Presbyterian minister, gladlyjoined in the work, and united Presbyterian and Wesleyan services wereheld. 

The hospital work was effectively done, and Miss Gordon (the matron)with her staff of nurses cheered and soothed the last moments of many apoor dying lad. 

=The Relief of Kimberley. =

But the time of relief was drawing near. Lord Roberts had appeared uponthe scene, and his great flank movement was being carried out. GeneralFrench, at the head of his cavalry division, was making one of the mostfamous marches in history. The days of inaction were over. Cronje andhis forces were saying a hasty good-bye to the hills at Magersfontein, which had so long defied Lord Methuen and his troops, and were flyingfor their lives. 

On Thursday, February 15, huge clouds of dust appeared upon thehorizon, and the tidings spread throughout the town that the reliefcolumn was in sight. Every available eminence was speedily crowded withpeople eager to catch a glimpse of the coming troops. Bugle warnings andshells were things of the past. Here they come! They have travelled farand fast! Look at them! Worn and weary, they can hardly sit theirhorses. But they are here, and at their head is the most famous cavalryofficer of the war--our Aldershot cavalry leader, General French. Aheadof his troops, fresh and vigorous, as though he had only just started, he proudly rides into the town. The people gather round and cheer; theyalmost worship the soldiers who have brought them relief, and then, secure for the first time for four long months, they turn to greetfriends and relatives, and the glad intelligence spreads far andwide--Kimberley is relieved!

=Christian Work after the Relief. =

Very speedily a branch of the South African General Mission wasestablished in Kimberley, and was soon in good working order. 

The tent of the S. C. A. Was opened in Newton Camp, Kimberley, on March12. The Mayor of Kimberley was present, and Mr. A. H. Wheeler, theorganizing secretary of the association, took charge of the proceedings. The soldiers' roll-call hymn was sung. In this tent large numbersafterwards gave themselves to Christ. 

The Rev. Mr. McClelland, Presbyterian chaplain, also moved intoKimberley from Modder River, and for some time assisted in the work. Hetells of the sad death of the Rev. Cathel Kerr, of the Free ChurchHighland Committee. He had been acting chaplain to the Scots Guards, anddied in Kimberley hospital. 

During the siege an eminent South African missionary passed away--theRev. Jas. Thompson, M. A. , ex-President of the South African WesleyanConference. He died with the sound of bursting shells in his ears, wondering what was in store for his church and people. He died asChristians die, and passed

 'Where beyond these voices there is peace. '

The work of God spread from Kimberley on every hand. The S. C. A. Workersspread out as far afield as Boshof, worshipping in the Dopper Church, and making it ring with Sankey's hymns, where all had been the quiet ofthe Psalms. We read of conversions here and there and everywhere. Thusin Kimberley also the word of God 'had free course and was glorified, 'and the workers 'thanked God and took courage. '

Chapter X

WITH GATACRE'S COLUMN

We turn now to another part of the field of operations, and the placethat demands our attention is Sterkstroom. Here, following the disasterto the Northumberland Fusiliers, there was a long halt. General Gatacrecould not advance without reinforcements. Those reinforcements were notfor a long time forthcoming, and all that he could do was to keep thatpart of Cape Colony clear of the enemy, and ultimately join hands withGeneral French. 

=Christian Workers at Sterkstroom. =

But these long pauses between actual engagements gave the opportunityfor Christian work, and General Gatacre's camp at Sterkstroom wasbesieged by a large number of Christian workers. In addition to therecognised chaplains the Soldiers' Christian Association, represented byMessrs. Stewart and Denman, had their large green tent, and pursuedtheir usual work with much success. The Salvation Army was also inevidence, and their captain and lieutenant rendered capital service, especially in the open air. Mr. And Mrs. Osborne Howe, well known inSouth Africa for their devoted work, had another tent, splendidly fittedup, and known as the 'Soldiers' Home. ' Mr. Anderson, an Army ScriptureReader from Glasgow, was also very useful. The Anglican and Wesleyanchaplains both had tents, in which they carried on their workincessantly. Captain England started a branch of the A. T. A. , and workedit till he died. And so, what with the workers living in camp and otherspaying flying visits to it, the call to repentance was loud and long, and no soldier at Sterkstroom was left without spiritual ministration. 

=Comforts for the Troops. =

And not only did the spiritual interests of the soldier receiveattention--the workers bore in mind that he had a body as well as asoul. All Christian South Africa bore that in mind. From far and nearcame presents for the soldiers. Churches gave collections for thatpurpose; ladies' sewing circles sewed to buy them comforts; businessfirms sent donations of goods; comforts, aye, and even luxuries, pouredinto the camp, and while in other parts of the field our men were onhalf or quarter rations, in the camp at Sterkstroom there were fruitdistributions night by night. Fresh butter and eggs came from the ladiesof Lady Frere and other places. Stationery, almost _ad libitum_, wassupplied. So that, notwithstanding rain and wind and many other_dis_comforts, on the whole the troops at Sterkstroom managed to pass acheerful time. Hardships were before them, death was both behind andbefore. Enteric fever was already dogging their steps, but still, compared with many of their comrades, they might indeed 'rest and bethankful. '

=The Soldiers' Home at Sterkstroom. =

Let us first of all glance at Mr. And Mrs. Osborne Howe in the midst oftheir work. It is the opening of their Soldiers' Home. The date isThursday, February 15. About two thousand men are present at the openingceremony, and the general and his staff are also there. The assemblageis thoroughly representative. There are the war correspondents of thedifferent papers; the chaplains of the Division; the Rev. Thomas Perry, Baptist minister from King Williamstown; 'Captain' Anderson and'Lieutenant' Warwicker of the Salvation Army; the workers of theSoldiers' Christian Association, as well as of the Soldiers' Home; andlast, but not least, the ladies of the nursing staff from the Hospitaland Soldiers' Home. The band of the Northumberland Fusiliers is alsopresent to delight the company with its music. All sorts of good thingsare provided by the generous host and hostess to delight the mostfastidious appetite--if there is such an appetite upon the veldt. 

The general is in his happiest mood. He thanks the friends of KingWilliamstown and Mr. And Mrs. Osborne Howe for their noble gift to hismen. 

=The S. C. A. Tent Services. =

The Soldiers' Christian Association had their tent splendidly fitted up, as all their tents are. But it was most unfortunate. Twice was it blowndown by fierce sandstorms, and on the second occasion the tent-pole wasbroken beyond repair. A tree was, however--not commandeered, but--bought. Handy men of the Royal Engineers speedily reduced its sizeand placed it in position, and there it stood braving its native winds. 

In this tent splendid work was done. Night by night men were seekingChrist. The demand for Bibles was great. On one occasion the workerswere employed for two hours giving out Bibles and Testaments to soldierswho came crowding round and begging for them. From the first night ofits erection the tent was crowded. The workers had never in their longexperience seen such a blessed work of grace. Men by the score weredelighted to be spoken to about the salvation of their souls. 

The pens, ink, and paper, provided free, were a great boon to thesoldiers. From three to four hundred sheets of paper per day were givento the men, who, of course, had to make special application for it. 

[Illustration: MORNING SERVICE ON THE VELDT. ]

Mr. Denman reports: 'Many whole days we have done nothing but receive inour private tents men who were anxious and troubled about their souls'salvation; others came to us who had got cold and indifferent, becauseof the absence of the means of grace. These in very many instances, under God's blessing, were helped and restored to the enjoyment ofthe means of grace and the Christian privileges. One dear Christian mancame in, threw his arms around my shoulders, and burst into tears, andsaid, "God bless you dear men for coming out here to care for us, and tohelp us on in the Christian life. He will reward you both for leavinghome and dear ones. I am sure you have been such help to so many ofus. "'[9]

Thus was the work of the S. C. A. Appreciated, and eternity alone willreveal the good accomplished by its means. 

[Footnote 9: _News from the Front_, April, 1900. ]

=Christian Work under Mr. Burgess. =

The work of the Wesleyan Church at Sterkstroom was also actively carriedforward. The chaplain at Sterkstroom was the Rev. W. C. Burgess. At onetime he was assisted by no fewer than five Wesleyan soldier localpreachers. These were Sergeant-Major C. B. Foote, of the TelegraphBattalion Royal Engineers, a much respected local preacher from theAldershot and Farnham Circuit; Sergeant-Major T. Jones, of the 16thField Hospital R. A. M. C. ; Corporal Knight, of the 8th Company DerbyshireRegiment; Trooper W. W. Booth, of Brabant's Horse; and Mr. Blevin, ofKing Williamstown, and late of Johannesburg, one of Mr. Howe's workers. 

Parade services, of course, received careful attention, and were largelyattended. But such services, however picturesque and interesting, arebut a small part of the chaplain's duty. He makes them the centre of hiswork, for at no other time can he get so many of his men around him; andstanding there at the drumhead, he gives God's message with all thepower he can command. 

But, after all, it is in quieter, homelier work that he succeeds thebest. Mr. Burgess, for instance, tells us how he began his open-airwork. He went over to the Royal Scots camp, and, as soon as the band hadfinished playing, stepped into the ring. It might have been a shell thathad dropped into that ring by the speed with which all the soldierscleared away from it! and the preacher, who had hoped he could hold thecrowd which the band had gathered, was woefully disappointed. However, he commenced to sing, --

 'Hold the fort, '

and he had not long to hold it by himself. Before he had finished thehymn other soldiers had gathered courage, and he had a crowd of two orthree hundred round him, and at the close of the service there were manyearnest requests to come again. 

Thus night by night, in the tent and in the open air, Christ waspreached. Perhaps, however, the most blessed of all the services werethe meetings of Christian soldiers upon the veldt. Here and there amongMr. Burgess's letters one chances on such passages as this:--

 'At 7. 30 p. M. Eight of us went a little distance from the tents into the veldt, and read the fifteenth chapter of St. John's Gospel together, and knelt down on the grass, and had a happy time in prayer. The lads got back to their tents in time for the first post, when the roll is called. '

Such records as these give us a glimpse of the Christian soldier's lifeat once beautiful and pathetic. Such intercourse must have been of thesweetest character; and, far away from home and friends, they drew verynear to God. 

For weeks from this time Mr. Burgess's letters are full of stories ofconversion. Now a corporal that he chats with at the close of a hardday's work, now the trumpeter of the regiment, now several together atthe close of an open-air service. Thus all workers rejoiced together inever continued success, and the greatest joy of all--the joy ofharvest--was theirs. 

But the time of inactivity was over. For weeks reinforcements had beengathering, and the chaplains' work had covered a larger area. It was nowtime to strike their tents and march. But this unfortunate column wasunfortunate still. With the memory of the disaster to the NorthumberlandFusiliers at Stormberg still in their minds they marched forward, onlyto meet with fresh disaster at Reddersburg. 

=The Disaster at Reddersburg. =

Perhaps the best account of that disaster is given by the Rev. W. C. Burgess in a letter to the Rev. E. P. Lowry; and as it gives a vividpicture of a chaplain's work under exceedingly difficult circumstances, we venture to quote at some length from the _Methodist Times_:--

 'On Thursday, March 29, four companies of the Royal Irish Rifles were under orders to go by march route to De Wet's Dorp, and to leave one company behind at Helvetia, which is midway between the two townships. We reached this place on the Friday, leaving Captain Murphy in charge, and the remaining three companies, under command of Captain McWhinnie, reached De Wet's Dorp on the Sunday morning at nine o'clock. We marched through the town and took up a position on the surrounding hills, when all at once we heard firing in the distance, and our mounted infantry were soon engaging the enemy's scouts. About sunset we were reinforced by about 150 of the Northumberland Fusiliers and Royal Irish Rifles Mounted Infantry. Our men bivouacked for the night along the ridges, and I slept with them. About three o'clock on Monday morning our officer commanding received the order to retire upon Reddersburg. At dawn we marched out in the pouring rain. We bivouacked that night on or near a Mr. Kelly's farm, about fifteen miles from De Wet's Dorp. At two o'clock the next morning--Tuesday, April 3, 1900--a man, of the name of Murray, of the Cape Mounted Rifles, brought despatches, informing us that the enemy were in considerable numbers in the direction of Thaba 'Nchu, on the Modder River, and were likely to threaten our advance. 

 'Murray rode with despatches from Smithfield to De Wet's Dorp, and finding that our column had left, he decided to overtake us, after having rested his horse; but in the meantime some of the enemy's scouts had entered the town, had taken his horse, saddle and bridle, and were making a vigorous search for him, but in vain; and under cover of the darkness he walked out and reached us in the early morning. He came and woke me up, and I took him to the commanding officer. We marched out again in the grey of the morning, and at about ten o'clock a. M. We saw dense clouds of dust rising away in the distance to our extreme right, and shortly afterwards saw horsemen galloping towards us, whom we vainly hoped might be our own cavalry, sent to our relief by Lord Roberts at Bloemfontein; but in a few minutes all our hopes were shattered, when we heard firing and saw our men engaging the enemy and retiring upon the adjacent kopjes, which we at once took possession of, and arranged our hospital, planting the Red Cross flag immediately in front of our ambulance wagons and hospital tents. 

 'The battle, now known as the battle of Muishond-fontein, commenced at 10. 45 a. M. On Tuesday, April 3, 1900, and continued all day. At 3. 40 p. M. The enemy's guns arrived on the scene of action, and began shelling us from three different positions. We were completely surrounded by a force of 3, 200, under Commandant De Wet, who, according to his own testimony to us afterwards, had five guns, four of which were in action, as well as a Vickers-Maxim. Shortly after the fighting began bullets and shells were dropping, and exploding in close proximity to our hospital. The Red Cross flag had four bullet-holes. Two of the mules, standing in harness and attached to one of our ambulance wagons, were killed. The operating tent, in which Dr. Smyth was attending to a wounded man, had two bullet-holes through it. One tent had four bullet-holes. Part of the seat of one of our ambulance baggage wagons had the red cross on its right side cut clean away by a shell. Pieces of shell struck the wheels of our ambulance wagon, and one of our Cape Medical Staff Corps was slightly wounded in the foot by a segment of a shell while close to the ambulance wagon. We had one mule whilst in harness cut in two by a shell and three mules wounded, so that they had to be shot. One mule was shot while tied to an ambulance wagon bearing the red cross; shrapnel and common shell were fired. It was considered absolutely necessary to cast up a parapet as a protection from the shot and shell fire, and we all threw off our coats, and with pick and shovel worked away until about midnight casting up earthworks. 

[Illustration: SOLDIERS' HOME ON THE FIELD. ]

 'The firing ceased at dusk. The men slept in their positions in the ridges, and without either food or water. At eight p. M. , hearing that Captain Kelly was slightly wounded in the head, we scaled the heights, and took him and some of his men a little water; but it was very little. Still he seemed grateful. He would not leave his men, but slept with them on the ridges. In stumbling over boulders amongst the bushes on the ridges, whom should I meet but the Earl of Rosslyn, who had escaped from the Boer lines, and had come into our camp in the afternoon. He had rather a rough time of it, for our men, not knowing who he was, and mistaking him for an enemy, fired upon him, but fortunately without effect. He very kindly told me that I might sleep in his buggy, which was near the ambulance party. However, I did not avail myself of his kind offer, but slept near the trenches. Captain Tennant, R. A. , our Intelligence officer, came down from the fighting lines at night, and said to the five Dutch prisoners whom our mounted infantry had captured the day before, "You now see how your own men are firing upon our hospital, and if you are killed or hurt it will be by the shells of your own people, and not by ours. " They saw at once the perilous position they were in, and asked for permission to dig a trench for themselves, which was granted. The natives also followed suit, and digged one for themselves. 

 'We were not molested during the night, but the battle was resumed the next morning (Wednesday, the 4th), and was fiercer than ever, until at last it was evident that the position was taken, and we surrendered at nine o'clock a. M. The enemy immediately galloped in, tore down the Union Jack, which they burnt, disarmed our men, and marched them off as quickly as they could in a column five or six deep. They sang a verse of a hymn and the Volkslied (their national anthem), and after listening to a short address from their commandant, they dispersed. 

 'Commandant De Wet was annoyed at our having dug trenches within the lines of our hospital, and said it was a breach of the Geneva Convention, and that we were taking an undue advantage of our privileges; but when we pointed out to him that it had been done to protect the wounded, some native women, and an old native man and child who came in for protection, and not as a protection to our troops who were in the firing lines, he was satisfied. 

 'The trenches were dug under a tolerably heavy fire. The enemy captured all our horses and saddlery, some of our kits and water-bottles, and one of our buck wagons marked with the Red Cross. Both the medical officers and I had our horses and kits taken from us, but the commandant assured each of us that they would be returned, but we have not seen them yet. In the evening these two officers with an orderly walked a distance of three or four miles to the Boer laager in the hope of recovering their kits, only to find that the laager had been removed and the enemy were nowhere to be seen. They took my servant, and would not hear of his remaining behind. We were released by Commandant De Wet, who told us to bury our dead and take the wounded where we liked. 

=Consolation to the Dying. =

 'Our casualties were ten killed and thirty-five wounded. I went over the battle-field with the ambulance party seeking for the dead and wounded, and came across a man who was dying, and said to him, "Do you know Jesus?" He replied, "Yes, I'm trusting Jesus as my Saviour. " I said, "That's right, brother. 'This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners. ' 'Christ died the just for the unjust that He might bring us to God. ' 'The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth from all sin. ' Do you know me?" I asked. "Yes, " he replied, "you are our chaplain, " and turning his dying face to me, he said, "Pray for me. " I knelt down by his side, surrounded by our stretcher-bearers, as well as by the Boers on horseback, who were witnesses of this pathetic scene, and commended him to God. He then said he was thirsty, and asked for a drink of water, which it was my privilege to give him from the water-bottle slung by my right side. We then laid him on the stretcher and carried him as gently as we possibly could to the field hospital, but in a few minutes his disembodied spirit had left its tenement of clay and gone to answer the roll call up yonder. 

 'One cannot speak too highly of the unremitting care and attention bestowed upon our dear wounded fellows by the army surgeons. Our officers in the field behaved most gallantly, and were as cool as possible under the most galling fire. The "O. C. , " Captain McWhinnie, could be seen against the sky line again and again, walking about amongst his men, directing the defence, and giving orders as coolly as if he had been on parade. While telling his men to avail themselves of every bit of cover he seemed utterly regardless of his own personal safety. The other officers were directing their men in more distant parts of the field, and could not be so easily seen by us. Our ammunition was getting low, and we had no artillery, not even a machine gun, and had a long series of ridges to occupy, extending over an area of three miles, so that it was no wonder our position was untenable. On Thursday, at two p. M. , we left the battlefield with our wounded for Reddersburg, where the people received us most kindly and placed the Government school-room at our disposal. '[10]

After burying the dead, and assisting the wounded to Bethany railwaystation, Mr. Burgess returned to headquarters at Springfontein and gaveGeneral Gatacre an account of the disaster. He was then attached to theRoyal Berks, as his own regiment was in captivity, and advanced withthem through the Orange River Colony. 

[Footnote 10: _Methodist Times_, May 17, 1900. ]

='I Must Go to the Muster Roll. '=

'He notes as he passes along a pathetic little incident. BuglerLonghurst, who was mortally wounded in the fight on April 4, died soonafter, and shortly before he passed away he sat up in bed and said tohis orderly, "Hush! hush!! give me my uniform. I hear them mustering. There are the drums! I must go to the muster roll. Hush!"--and sinkingback he died. 

'The advance for a long time was a continuous battle. Even the transporthad a warm time of it. On one occasion a forty-pounder shell struck atransport wagon and exploded, cutting off the native driver's leg as hesat upon the box. The poor fellow showed conspicuous courage. "Don'tmind me, lads, " he shouted, "drive on. " They carried him to theoperating tent, and he was singing all the way. Shortly after hisoperation he died. '

='I'm not Afraid, only my Hand Shakes. '=

The Sterkstroom column were fighting at last, and bravely they borethemselves. It was not their fault if disaster dogged their steps. Nobraver men could be found than those under Gatacre's command. And yetthey, like the rest, had a great objection to the pom-poms. 'I'm notafraid, ' said one lad, when that strange sound began and the shells camerattling around. 'I'm not afraid, only my hand shakes. '

It reminds us of a story told of a certain officer who was going intoaction for the first time. His legs were shaking so that he could hardlysit his horse. He looked down at them, and with melancholy but decidedvoice said, 'Ah! you are shaking, are you? You would shake a great dealmore if you knew where I was going to take you to-day; so pullyourselves together. Advance!'

We are not told whether the legs so addressed at once stopped shaking, or whether they were taken still shaking into the battle. But this we doknow, that the highest type of courage is not incompatible withnervousness, and that the courage that can conquer shaking nerves, andtake them all unwilling where they do not want to go, is the couragethat can conquer anything. The '_I_' that is not afraid even when the'_hand_' shakes, is the real man after all, and the man of exquisitenervous temperament may be an even greater hero than the man who doesnot know fear. 

Sir Herbert Chermside had succeeded General Gatacre, who was returninghome, and the column was now joining hands with General French, andcoming under the superior command of Sir Leslie Rundle. It was sternwork every day, and the chaplains, like the rest, were continually underfire. Services could not be held, but night by night the chaplains wentthe round of the picquets and spoke cheering words to them in theirloneliness, and, day by day, in the fight and out of it, they preachedChrist from man to man, ministering to the wounded, closing the eyes ofthe dying and burying the dead, until at last they too reachedBloemfontein and cheered the grand old British flag. 

Chapter XI

BLOEMFONTEIN

'Look, father, the sky is English, ' said a little girl as they drovehome to Bloemfontein in the glowing sunset. 

'English, my dear, ' said her father, 'what do you mean?'

'Why, ' replied the little one, 'it is all red, white, and blue. '

And in truth, red, white, and blue was everywhere. The inhabitants ofBloemfontein must have exhausted the stock of every shop. They must haveransacked old stores, and patched together material never intended forbunting. Wherever you looked, there were the English colours. No wonderto the imagination of the little one even the sun was greeting thevictorious English, and painting the western sky red, white, and blue. 

We cannot, of course, suppose that all these people who greeted thevictorious British army enthusiastically were really so enthusiastic asthey appeared. But 'nothing succeeds like success, ' and those who hadcursed us yesterday, blessed us to-day. 

=The Advantages of Bloemfontein. =

It is a matter for thankfulness that the town was spared the horrors ofa bombardment. It was far too beautiful to destroy. Of late years, asmoney had poured into the treasury, much had been expended upon publicbuildings. The Parliament Hall, for instance, had been erected at a costof £80, 000. The Grey College was a building of which any city might beproud. The Post Office was quite up to the average of some largeprovincial town in this country, and several other imposing buildingsproved that the capital of the Orange Free State, though small, was 'nomean city. '

It was literally a town on the veldt. The veldt was around iteverywhere. It showed up now and then in the town where it was leastexpected, as though to assert its independence and remind the dwellersin the city that their fathers were its children. 

Wonderfully healthy is this little city. Situated high above sea level, with a climate so bracing and life-giving that the phthisis bacillus canhardly live in it, it seemed to our soldiers, after their long marchacross the veldt, a veritable City of Refuge. Alas! how soon it was tobe turned into a charnel house!

=The March to Bloemfontein. =

It was to this oasis in the South African desert that Lord Robertsmarched his troops after the surrender of Cronje. It had been a terriblemarch from the Modder River, and its severity was maintained to theend. The difficulty of transport was great, and sickness was beginningto tell upon the troops. The river water, rendered poisonous by thebodies of men and cattle from Cronje's camp, and the horrible filth ofhis laager, were responsible for what followed. The men for the mostpart kept up until the march was over. They had determined to reachBloemfontein at all costs, and many of them in all probability losttheir lives through that determination. They ought to have given up longbefore they did, but struggled on until, rendered weak by theirprolonged exertions, they had no strength to fight the disease which hadfastened upon them. 

The last march of the Guards was one which the Brigade may well rememberwith pride, as one of the most famous in its annals. They actuallymarched over forty miles in twenty-two consecutive hours, over groundfull of holes of all sorts and sizes, and with barbed wire cut and lyingon the ground in all directions. They marched hour after hour in steadysilence, broken only by the 'Glory! Hallelujah!' chorus of theCanadians, marched with soleless boots, or with no boots at all, butwith putties wrapped round the bare feet. An hour and a half's rest, andthen on again! On, ever on! They are so tired, they feel they can marchno further, and yet on they go, steadily marching straight forward, asilent, dogged, determined army out there upon the veldt. Lord Robertshad promised the Guards that they should follow him into Bloemfontein, and they intended to be there to do it. 

=The Work at Bloemfontein. =

Bloemfontein reached, Christian work began in real earnest. Every onebecame 'hard at it' at once. The Rev. E. P. Lowry opened a Soldiers' Homein the schoolroom of the Wesleyan Church, and day by day provided thecheapest tea in the town at three-pence per head, of which many hundredsof the men availed themselves. Here, too, he had meetings night bynight. The Rev. James Robertson was also incessantly at work. The largetent of the Soldiers' Christian Association was erected in the camp ofthe Highland Brigade, and became as usual a centre of splendid Christianeffort. Mr. Black tells us that Lord Roberts gave permission for him toaccompany him to Bloemfontein, and gave every possible encouragement tothe work. 

=Lord Roberts Visits the Tent. =

Mr. Glover writes:--

 'The tent of which I now have charge--surrounded by thousands of men of the Highland Brigade, and pitched yesterday on a high plateau about one and a half miles from town--is, I believe, in answer to prayer, on the spot where God would have it be, especially if the numbers attending the first Gospel meeting may be any criterion. 

 'In the early morning I had plenty of willing helpers. By about nine the tent was completed, by ten I had literature, games, etc. , unpacked and arranged, and before eleven--after inspection of Naval Brigade--Lord Roberts honoured me with a visit. This was more than we might have expected, and having shown a keen interest in inspection--Sankey's hymn-books included--he gave me a hearty handshake, saying he was pleased to see it, and it would be a great boon to the men. This visit was a very prompt one. Mr. Black just handed up a request after Naval inspection. Lord Roberts replied, "Certainly, " and galloped over with his other officers before our workers could get across. '

 'There has been a very heavy demand on writing material by the many men, who have had scarcely any opportunity to write for two or three weeks. I hardly know what I shall do for paper, as I have only one packet left, and could not get a line through by wire yesterday; I hope, however, you received my wire to-day. There is room here for a dozen--or even twenty--tents now. We had over 40, 000 men before yesterday, when the whole of the Seventh Division arrived. 

 'Our first three meetings have been marked by a very hallowed influence. To-night the tent was packed to overflowing, and our joy at the close was beyond expression, when twenty dear fellows took a stand for Christ. The weather is very wet to-night, the men have no tents, and I gave them the opportunity to remain under the shelter of our tent. As I write (10. 30 p. M. ), I suppose there are 120 to 150 here. '[11]

Later on our old friend, Mr. Stewart, took charge of the tent, and Mr. Hinde assisted him. Mr. Percy Huskisson also spoke at some of themeetings, and they had glorious times. The Rev. R. Deane Oliver, adevoted Church of England chaplain from Aldershot, took the meeting onone occasion, and no fewer than eighteen stood up for prayer. 

[Footnote 11: _News from the Front_, May, 1900. ]

=Sunday Services in Bloemfontein. =

The Sabbath services held in the camps and town were full of blessing. In the Wesleyan Church khaki was everywhere, crowding not only everyavailable seat, but the Communion and the pulpit stairs, and even thepulpit itself. 

Mr. Lowry writes:--

 'There must have been not less than 700 soldiers actually with us that morning. In the afternoon a delightful Bible-class and testimony meeting was held, at which about forty were present, and at its close, thanks to the kindness of Mr. And Mrs. Franklin, a capital tea, though not a fruit tea of the Aldershot type, was provided for all. The evening service, conducted by Mr. Franklin, was well attended by the military, and as the clock struck nine, those that remained to the after-meeting bethought us of Sergt. -Major Moss and his men, and made ourselves one with them by singing at the self-same moment their unfailing song, "God be with you till we meet again. "'[12]

The Rev. Stuart and Mrs. Franklin, to whom Mr. Lowry refers, were theresident Wesleyan minister and his wife. They rendered conspicuousservice to our soldiers, and in fact thought no sacrifice too great tomake on their behalf. 

But not long was there a pause in the battle. The troops had to be movedfurther and further out. The chaplains went with them. The onward marchto Pretoria commenced, and only an army of occupation was left behind inBloemfontein. 

[Footnote 12: _Methodist Times_, May 3, 1900. ]

=Glimpses of Good Work from Soldiers' Letters. =

We, however, stay with them in Bloemfontein for a short time, that wemay read a few of the Christian soldiers' letters received from thattown, and get some further glimpses of the good work carried on there. 

Corporal Lundy writes:--

 'Through all the trying marches and battles in which I have been engaged I have found time to read a portion of God's Word. I have found my Heavenly Father a personal Friend in this campaign. We have been on short rations for about a month: just enough to keep one together. 

 'The prisoners we have in the fort are always singing psalms and hymns, but they do not seem to be quite right; there is something lacking. '

Corporal Simpson says:--

 'I am still enjoying the best of health bodily, and so happy in soul that I could not express myself. Storm clouds gather and trials come, but still it's Jesus. When bullets are flying around my head and hunger is pricking me sorely, I can lift up my head with praise. 'When I saw the little English children at Bloemfontein running about so gay, many of them so like my own lambs, my heart seemed as if it would break. '

Another soldier writes:--

 'I want to tell you of the great Christian work that is going on in this great camp. There are four or five very large tents, which are full every night, and hundreds are turned away. There are men there who would laugh at the Soldiers' Home in England and scorn to be seen in the company of Christians. Many such men have been brought to know Christ through this great and awful war. Mr. Lowry often speaks to us. He is a grand worker, and we love him. We have been under the Saviour's care and keeping all the time. We are very anxious to get back home, and shall welcome peace with one great shout of joy. '

Another gives us a further glimpse of Christian work:--

 'Going along I saw three marquees, on one of which there was written "Soldiers' Home. " I peeped in and saw Pearce, of the Gloucesters. I marched up to him and told him who I was. Four of them knew me, and we had a good old talk of the home land. They had just finished a good old Bible reading, and tea came in. I sat down for tea with them. At about 6 p. M. We were in the large marquee putting things ready, and about 6. 30 it was full of soldiers, perhaps about 600. Then we had the dear old Sankey hymns. '

Another grows quite eloquent as he writes:--

 'At home I hear there has been much rejoicing, and the reverses have given place to victories. But the victories have been bought by the sacrifice of human souls. The altar has been saturated with the blood of fathers and sons. The bitterness of sorrow has wrung human hearts in the dear old homeland. In the mansion, in the cottage, in city and in village, tidings of death have found a place. But Christ, the Prince of Peace, has given peace to many lads on the battlefield. Words which were apparently sown in the darkness have bloomed in the light. Life eternal has been accepted, and the life of sin has become the life of joy. Behind the veil the Master stands and sees the awful strife. The Divine plan is hidden from view, but our faith can see in the distant years the continent of Africa revealed as a continent of God's people. 

 'Men have been, and still are, seeking for fame and glory. The things of heaven, the Christ who died, have been forgotten in the struggle for things of the world. Thank God for the many souls who have found Jesus out here. We feel a mighty power within, and we know it is in answer to the prayers of loved ones in the dear old land. A wall of prayer surrounds us and we are safe. I feel that I have let many golden opportunities slip. The harvest is passing and labourers are few. 

 'The hearts of our Christian lads have been kept true, and God has been glorified. '

So testify these Christian men to the power of our holy religion to saveand keep. We thank God that they in their own way have 'kept the flagflying. '

=The Enteric Epidemic. =

But now began another battle--a battle fiercer and more disastrous toour men than any other in this Boer campaign. Enteric fever had beendogging the steps of our army all the way from Cronje's camp, and itovertook it in full force in Bloemfontein. Very soon the hospitals werefull--crowded--overcrowded. A state of things obtained which, whether itbe a scandal or not, will be a lasting source of regret to everyEnglishman, and a dark stain upon the war. 

So rapidly did the men fall that accommodation could not possibly befound for them. They lay about anywhere. The space between the bed-cotswas full of groaning, struggling, dying humanity. In inches of mud andslush they lay, breathing their lives out all unattended. The supply ofdoctors, nurses, and orderlies was altogether inadequate. Tents andmedicines could not be got to the front, for the railway was requiredfor food supplies, and the army must be fed. It is too early to passjudgment on the arrangements. We record a few facts, vouched for notonly by the papers from which we quote, but by scores of men who havecome from Bloemfontein, and with whom we have talked. 

It is in the remembrance of all that Mr. Burdett-Coutts wrote an articlein the _Times_, and afterwards delivered a speech in the House ofCommons, in both of which he told of the terrible sufferings of our men, and severely criticised the hospital arrangements. The men returningfrom the front, while they one and all declare that everything was doneby the hospital authorities which it was possible for those on the spotto do, yet mournfully admit that the terrible accounts are notexaggerated. 

=Dr. Conan Doyle's Testimony. =

The _Daily Telegraph_ published the number of deaths from disease atBloemfontein during the months of April, May, and the first part ofJune. They reach the awful total of 949. Dr. Conan Doyle, in a recentletter published in the _British Medical Journal_, says:--

 'I know of no instance of such an epidemic in modern warfare. I have not had access to any official figures, but I believe that in one month there were from 10, 000 to 12, 000 men down with this, the most debilitating of all diseases. I know that in one month 600 men were laid in the Bloemfontein cemetery. A single day in this one town saw 40 deaths. '

He speaks in the highest terms of the conduct of the sick soldiers. 

 'They are uniformly patient, docile, and cheerful, with an inextinguishable hope of "getting to Pretoria. " There is a gallantry even about their delirium, for their delusion continually is that they have won the Victoria Cross. One patient whom I found the other day rummaging under his pillow informed me that he was looking for "his two Victoria Crosses. " Very touching also is their care of each other. The bond which unites two soldier pals is one of the most sacred kind. One man shot in three places was being carried into Mr. Gibbs' ward. I lent an arm to his friend, shot through the leg, who limped behind him. "I want to be next Jim, 'cos I'm looking after him, " said he. That he needed looking after himself never seemed to have occurred to him. '

=The Hospital Orderlies. =

Dr. Conan Doyle, however, reserves his highest praise for the hospitalorderly. We venture to quote at length, because of all workers duringthis campaign none deserve higher praise, and none will receive lessreward than the men who have so nobly, so uncomplainingly done thehorrible work of nursing--'the sordid and obscene work, ' as Dr. Doylecalls it--through this frightful epidemic. 

 'In some of the general hospitals, orderlies were on duty for thirty-six hours in forty-eight, and what their duties were--how sordid and obscene--let those who have been through such an epidemic tell. 

 'He is not a picturesque figure, the orderly, as we know him. We have not the trim, well-nourished army man, but we have recruited from the St. John Ambulance men, who are drawn, in this particular instance, from the mill hands of a northern town. They were not very strong to start with, and the poor fellows are ghastly now. There is none of the dash and glory of war about the sallow, tired men in the dingy khaki suits--which, for the sake of the public health, we will hope may never see England again. And yet they are patriots, these men; for many of them have accepted a smaller wage in order to take on these arduous duties, and they are facing danger for twelve hours of the twenty-four, just as real and much more repulsive than the scout who rides up to the strange kopje, or the gunner, who stands to his gun with a pom-pom quacking at him from the hill. 

 'Let our statistics speak for themselves; and we make no claim to be more long-suffering than our neighbours. We have three on the staff (Mr. Gibbs, Mr. Scharlieb, and myself). Four started, but one left us early in the proceedings. We have had six nurses, five dressers, one wardmaster, one washerman, and eighteen orderlies, or thirty-two in all, who actually came in contact with the sick. Out of the six nurses, one has died and three others have had enteric. Of the five dressers, two have had severe enteric. The wardmaster has spent a fortnight in bed with veldt sores. The washerman has enteric. Of the eighteen orderlies, one is dead, and eight others are down with enteric. So that out of a total of thirty-four we have had seventeen severe casualties--fifty per cent. --in nine weeks. Two are dead, and the rest incapacitated for the campaign, since a man whose heart has been cooked by a temperature over 103 degrees is not likely to do hard work for another three months. If the war lasts nine more weeks, it will be interesting to see how many are left of the original personnel. When the scouts and the Lancers and the other picturesque people ride in procession through London, have a thought for the sallow orderly, who has also given of his best for his country. He is not a fancy man--you do not find them in enteric wards--but for solid work and quiet courage you will not beat him in all that gallant army. '

Dr. Conan Doyle has told the story of the hospital orderly, but whoshall tell the story of the doctor and the hospital nurse. In many casesthey have laid down their lives for the men, and all have worked with adevotion that has seemed well-nigh super-human. But a medical staffsufficient for two army corps was altogether insufficient to supply theneeds of an army of 200, 000 and fight an epidemic of terrible severity. They did their best. Some person the country will blame, but to thesewho so nobly worked and endured the country will say, 'Well done!'

=Terrible Incidents during the Epidemic. =

Tales of horror crowd upon one; stories of men in delirium, wanderingabout the camp at night; stories of living men in the agonies ofdisease, with dead men lying on either side; stories of men themselveshardly able to crawl about, turning out of bed to nurse their comradesbecause there was no one else to do it. 

'Why do you let 'em die?' asked a young soldier by way of a grim joke, pointing to two dead soldiers close to him, while he himself wassuffering from enteric. 'Why don't you look after 'em better?'

'What can I do? I know nothing about nursing!' was the sad reply. 

Just so! That was the difficulty--there was no one to prevent themdying. How many might have been saved if such had been the case!

It is too early to tell yet in detail the story of Christian work inconnection with this epidemic. Many of the chaplains had left for thefront before it broke out in its intensity, and we have as yet onlyfragmentary evidence as to the work done by those left upon the spot. Wehave not the slightest doubt that one and all did their work with thedevotion we should expect from such men. We hear of Christian soldierswho bore splendid witness for Christ in the hospitals, and who were themeans of leading their comrades to the Saviour in the midst of theirsickness, and for such stories we thank God. 

=Christian Work in the Fever Hospitals. =

We close this chapter with an extract from a letter from the Rev. RobertMcClelland, Presbyterian Chaplain 1st battalion Cameron Highlanders, published in _St. Andrew_, and sent us by the courtesy of the Rev. Dr. Theodore Marshall. It is an eloquent testimony to the value of hospitalwork, and gives us a glimpse of what was done at Bloemfontein:--

'When we reached Bloemfontein we found a dozen large hospitals all asfull as they could hold, and at the cemetery gate it was solemn andpainful to see many funerals outside the gate waiting entrance to thehouse of the dead. I was told that an Episcopal clergyman was told offat the cemetery for the sad but necessary work of Christian interment. You will ask, why this great sickness and mortality? The water, on thewhole, is bad (sometimes absolutely vile), and our masses of soldiersare not so careful about what they eat and drink as they should be in atrying climate, scorching sun by day and white frost by night. Dysenteryand enteric fever are the worst. Here is the minister's noblestvocation, and we could take a dozen Father Damiens for this grand work. When the fever runs high, or the strength gets wasted and the heart goesdown, a pleasant smile, a kind word, a verse of Scripture, a briefprayer, goes a long way to revive the drooping spirits. I record mysolemn conviction that hospital work, rightly done, is by far and awaythe most needful and the most acceptable of the chaplain's work. But, ofcourse, like the doctors at the base, we are all wanting to the front tosee the "pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war, " while the bravefellows battling with fever, sickness, and wounds in the hospital arefighting the stiffest fight of all. And yet there is work for us on themarch and at the front, too. To make yourself a friend and brother, toseek out and comfort the exhausted and ailing, to speak a word in seasonto the weary, to preach "the glorious Gospel of the blessed God" asopportunity offers--this is a task worthy of the highest powers andgreatest gifts. After being nearly four months on the field, I do notregret the great sacrifices made in going there. '

Chapter XII

ON TO PRETORIA

The march from Bloemfontein to Pretoria was one never to be forgotten. It taxed the strength of the strongest. There was fighting most of theway, and many a soldier who started full of hope never reached the end. The first stage was from Bloemfontein to Kroonstadt. 

Mr. W. K. Glover, of the S. C. A. , arrived at Kroonstadt in company withMr. D. A. Black, but there was taken ill and compelled to rest. The Rev. T. F. Falkner and the Rev. E. P. Lowry marched nearly the whole way toKroonstadt with the troops, and the latter speaks of it as the mosttrying march of the whole campaign. Opportunities for Christian work, with the exception of the hearty handshake or the whispered prayer, werebut few, though during the pauses at Brandfort and at Kroonstadt severalsuccessful services were held. 

A new name now appears on the line of march--that of the Rev. W. G. Lane, chaplain to the second Canadian contingent. He accompanied the CanadianForces as Chaplain-Captain, and had the spiritual charge of allProtestants except those of the Episcopal Church. 

=The March to Pretoria. =

We have, however, our fullest account of Christian work on the line ofmarch from the pen of the Rev. Frank Edwards, the acting Wesleyanchaplain attached to the South Wales Borderers. He came out late in thewar at his own charges to preach to the Welsh soldiers in their ownlanguage, and only overtook Lord Roberts at Brandfort. He shows us invivid outline the sort of work our chaplains did between Bloemfonteinand Pretoria. 

'And now for the regular routine of "life on the march. " We rise at 4a. M. In the dark and cold, breakfast hastily on biscuit and tea made ofvery doubtful water, stand shivering in the piercing cold of dawn whiletroops are paraded, then start on our way long before the sun rises towarm our frozen frames. We march an hour and rest ten minutes--the houris very long, the ten minutes very short. 

=South African Dust. =

'The marching would be tolerable were it not for the heat and dust, thelatter lying in some places quite nine inches deep, rising in clouds. Itfills your eyes, nostrils, mouth and throat, causing one's lips to crackand bringing on an intolerable thirst, which makes it impossible for themen to be very fastidious, or even prudent with regard to the quality orsource of the water which they greedily drink. At night when we reachour camping-ground our first thought is of our great-coats, for we arebathed in perspiration, and as the sun goes down about 5. 30, nightimmediately following without any twilight, the intense heat of thealmost tropical day is changed in a few minutes into the bitter cold ofwhat might almost be called, from its length and severity, an Arcticnight. 

'At the Zand River I saw my first fight. That morning, as the troopswere drawn up in marching order, the ominous command was given, "Chargemagazines, " and every man knew that something was about to happen, and amurmur ran along the ranks. After an hour's march we came in sight ofthe Zand River, with its kopjes on the farther side. As our battalioncame in view of the river we saw the enemy's guns flashing on thedistant kopjes, and showers of shells fell on this side the river intothe trees in our front. On our right some mounted infantry were lyingbehind a kopje, and nothing could be more magnificent than to see thevolleying shells burst in a successive line along the ridge of theirsheltering kopje. At the edge of the wood we were halted and ordered tolie down; as the artillery dashed by us to the front, where they weresoon busily pounding the Boer position, "Advance!" our Colonel cried. Upwe arose, marched through the trees down into the river-bed, and therewe lay while the shells screamed over us. 

'The first shell that came screaming--I can use no better term--towardsus seemed to cause a cold feeling inside, and I felt as though my lasthour had come; but that soon passed, and I became so accustomed to themthat I found myself speculating as to where they would burst. While welay in the river-bed, one monster burst with a roar like thunder uponthe bank behind, shaking the ground like an earthquake. 

'Our rest here was the calm before the storm, and as we awaited the wordto advance into the fight that was raging overhead, I had an opportunityof studying the faces of the soldiers who were going, perhaps, to death. Some were pale with excitement, and their eyes flashed as they clutchedtheir rifles and compressed their lips. Others laughed wildly, anotherwas hungrily gnawing a hard biscuit, while many were smoking furiously. A few appeared quite indifferent, and might have been awaiting the orderfor a march. The officers were splendidly cool, and gave their orders asclearly and calmly as on parade. 

=On the Firing Line. =

'"Advance!" was again the cry, and up the banks we went and into thetrees on the further side. Here we saw the effect of the shell fire andwar upon the battle plain. Our batteries were busily engaged about twohundred yards away, and the death-dealing missiles of friend and foeflew mercilessly about. As we were likely to remain in the tree shelterfor a while, I strolled out as far as the batteries, for I wished tohave a better view of the Boer position; but here the shells werefalling fast between the guns, and one poor gunner was cruelly mutilatedby a bursting shell, his dead body presenting a ghastly sight. 

'I went back, and met the General and some of his staff inspecting theBoer position with a huge telescope. I had a good look, and clearly sawour shells burst in the embrasure of a gun, which was hurriedly takenaway. 

'Just then the General wanted to send a message, but had no availablemessenger. Saluting, I asked that I might be sent. He gave me themessage, and springing on a horse which a servant held near, I gallopedaway. It was a strange experience that entry into the fire-zone, but Iforgot all fear in the fight, and delivered my message. I returned tothe General, who thanked me for my promptness. 

'Our line had meanwhile advanced, and it was grand to see the steadinessof our men. Though bullets spat viciously in the sand before, between, and behind them, not a man flinched, but went steadily on to the heightsbeyond. I asked the General to send me with another order, which hewished taken to a half battalion some distance ahead, but as he wasabout to do so, he saw the cross upon my collar, and asked me if I wasnot a chaplain. I replied in the affirmative, and he inquired where myred cross armlet was. I told him I did not possess one, and was toldthat I must get one at once. The General then told me he was very sorry, but he could not use me again, as I was a non-combatant, and if heavailed himself of my services, he would be infringing the GenevaConvention; while, on the other hand, if the Boers captured me, I shouldbe shot. 

='I was Thinking of the Last Verses of the Twenty-third Psalm. '=

'One incident which occurred during the day made a deep impression uponme. While in the river drift, on the point of moving into the thick ofthe fight and fire, I observed a soldier thoughtfully leaning upon hiselbow, and was moved to ask him what his thoughts were at that moment. Lifting his eyes steadfastly to mine, he replied, "I was thinking, sir, of the last verses of the twenty-third Psalm"; and as he spoke I knew Iwas face to face with a man for whom death had no terrors, one who waslooking for the crown of life. It was a word in season, and was veryhelpful. 

'We encamped that night upon the heights lately occupied by the enemy. Friday was taken up with another tedious march upon Kroonstadt, and onSaturday we advanced in fighting formation upon that place, momentarilyexpecting to meet the Boers, whom our scouts reported entrenched inposition some miles this side the town. However, we found they had gone, and Kroonstadt was entered about mid-day, and we encamped outside. 

'The next day being Sunday, my first thought was to make arrangement forservices. I interviewed the General, and he allowed me to fix my owntime--an hour later than the Church of England parade--in order that themen of the 14th Brigade might be able to come down. On Sunday morning Iheld my first parade service with my regiment. There was a splendidattendance--men of the Borderers, Cheshires, Lancs, Engineers, and manyfrom the other Brigade. 

=A Service on the Veldt. =

'At the close of the morning service, after a conversation amongthemselves, several stepped out and asked for an evening service. I hadnot intended holding one, as I thought they had been marching for weeksand were tired and weary, and had clothes to wash and mend, and thismight be their only opportunity for weeks, perhaps; so I asked that allwho wished for an evening service would put up their hands. Every mandid so, and the Colonel was only too glad to arrange it for me. Thatevening, half an hour after the time for tea, we met again on the openveldt, in front of our lines, and we had a splendid muster--more thanthe morning. The hymns went splendidly. Two soldiers led inprayer--short and very earnest--then we sang and prayed. Two addressesby two more soldiers--straight and good and to the point--addresseswhich had a deep effect upon all. Another hymn, then I spoke to themabout the "Standard of Jesus, " and we felt the power of the presence ofGod. Kneeling on the veldt, man after man broke down. Many openlyconfessed their sin, others rejoiced in true Methodist style. Even thenthey were not satisfied; a prayer-meeting was asked for and all stayed. It was truly a grand prayer-meeting. Prayers and hymns followed free andfast, and many at the close, as they pressed forward to shake hands withme and thank me for coming, said it was one of the happiest Sundays oftheir life. "More like a Sunday at home sir, than any we have had outhere; we did not know what Sunday was before. " Many found peace with Godthat night and determined to lead a new life. 

'That night I got permission to have hymns sung in the lines, and youshould have heard the Welsh hymns as they rose and fell in the nightair. Men crowded from all parts. Officers and men jostled in thecrowding ring while the sweet melodies and beautiful harmonies thrilledevery soul. It was a happy ending to a happy day. The Colonel has askedme to arrange for this hymn-singing every Sunday night, for he says itis very beautiful, and not only is it highly appreciated by the men, butit has a beneficial influence on them. 

'On Tuesday I had permission to arrange a camp concert. We had a hugewood fire. A wagon drawn up served for a platform. The Colonel took thechair. The officers were in the ring and the men grouped around. It wasa weird and romantic sight--all those laughing and appreciative faces inthe flickering fire-light--and we had a very pleasant evening. 

'On Monday, as we were still encamped here, I organized a football matchand acted as referee, which in a tropical sun is no sinecure, I can tellyou. On Wednesday I rode into Kroonstadt and had the pleasure of meetingMr. Lowry, Mr. Lane, the Canadian chaplain, and Mr. Carey, the residentWesleyan minister, and we had a pleasant time. '

Thus progressed the work; thus one Christian worker after anotherdistinguished himself, while all the time Lord Roberts was rapidlydrawing nearer his goal. Now Brandfort was reached, now Kroonstadt, andat last the Diamond City, Johannesburg--no, not last, Pretoria liesbeyond, and by-and-by the victorious forces entered the capital of theTransvaal, and the British flag--symbol of world-wide empire--floatedover the Government Buildings. 

And here we pause. The day is now not distant when the British flag willbe respected throughout both those one-time Republics, and peace shallonce more hold sway. When that time comes we predict a magnificentextension of the kingdom of Christ in South Africa; for we trust that, with old feuds forgotten and the Spirit of Christ taking possession ofboth British and Boer, all forms of Christianity will join hands to makeChrist King throughout the Dark Continent. 

Chapter XIII

HERE AND THERE IN CAPE COLONY

'Bother war!' writes a guardsman to the Rev. J. H. Hocken. 'Let me getout of this lot, and never no more. ' It is not a very heroic sentimentcertainly, but he wrote from the hospital at Orange River, and doubtlessexpressed not only his own sentiments, but the sentiments of a good manyof his comrades. And certainly there seems to have been reason as wellas sentiment in his statement. Listen to this, for instance:--

'At the engagement of Graspans we had some food about 4 p. M. All thatnight my battalion was on outpost duty. Next morning we marched about 3a. M. , caught up the division, and took part in the engagement atGraspans, followed up the enemy, captured a building with forty Boers init and a large tent filled with medical comforts, and when we thought ofhaving some rest and some grub, we were ordered on top of some hills foroutpost duty that night, and we did not have our dinner until the nextday, Sunday morning, at 9 a. M. That is quite true. Forty-one hourswithout anything but dirty water, and yet Miss Morphew says Guards areonly for show. But I don't think she meant it. No wonder I am bad. '

=Work at the Orange River Hospital. =

Aye, no wonder, indeed! And week by week, month by month, the OrangeRiver Hospital has been full ever since the beginning of the war. HereArmy Scripture Reader Pearce, from North Camp, Aldershot, has been incharge. For a long time he was single-handed in this great hospitalcamp. He performed the duty of acting chaplain to all denominations. General Wauchope before he died spoke of Mr. Pearce's eagerness forwork, and verily there was enough for him to do. At one time he wasassisted by the Canadian chaplain, and latterly by the chaplain of theAustralian contingent. But month by month he went his weary round ofhospital visitation alone. He buried the dead, wrote letters home to thefriends of the dying and the dead, and performed faithfully and well allthe many tasks in a chaplain's routine. At one time there were at leasta hundred Canadians down with enteric at Orange River. The Australianhospital was also crowded. 

The monotony of work must have been terribly trying. It was not for himto know anything of the excitement of the battle. It was only his towitness the horrors of the carnage. His pulses did not thrill at sightsof deeds of daring on the field. He only saw the train-loads of woundedall smeared with dust and blood, and heard the groans that told ofagony. But when the day of reward shall come, the quiet, earnest work ofsuch as he will not be forgotten, and the great Head of the Church willsay, 'Well done. ' No wonder after eight months of such work as this hisnerves gave way, and he was obliged to return home. 

At Orange River, too, the Soldiers' Christian Association did good work. Messrs. Glover, Fotheringham, and Ingram were the means of leadingscores of men to Christ. Dr. Barrie, of the Canadian contingent, who wastemporarily attached to the hospital, gave several addresses, which weremuch appreciated, and conducted a weekly Bible Class. Later Messrs. Charteris and Bird were in charge of the tent, and tell the same blessedstory of nightly effort and nightly success. 

=Experiences at Arundel and Colesberg. =

From De Aar, Naauwport, and Arundel we have before us several graphicletters from the Rev. M. F. Crewdson, late of Johannesburg. Mr. Crewdsonis a Wesleyan minister, and for conspicuous service on the field wasappointed acting chaplain. His hospital stories are full of point andpathos. He tells of one man with twenty-two shell wounds, and yet livingand cheerful; of another with a hole as big as a hand in his leg, andanother big hole in his arm, and yet refusing to grumble, and professinghimself quite comfortable. Of this man an Australian said, 'Heexasperates me; he never has any pain. ' He pictures to us a corporalseeing to the comfort of his men and horses, and then, by way of achange, teaching his men the ditty--

 'Life is too short to quarrel. '

[Illustration: ARUNDEL. ]

From Colesberg we have a graphic letter from the Rev. E. Bottrill. Herefers to the imprisonment by the Boers of the resident Wesleyanminister, the Rev. A. W. Cragg, whose health suffered severely from histhree months' confinement. He tells of earnest work in that town sodifficult to capture, of splendid parade services, and of anextemporised Soldiers' Home in the Wesleyan Church. At Arundel there wasa tent of the S. C. A. And another at Enslin, and at each of these goodwork was done. 

Everywhere God was with His workers, and gave great success. The spiritof inquiry was present in all the meetings. Everywhere in this region, as indeed throughout the whole theatre of war, in camp and hospital, onthe march and on the battlefield, our soldier lads were inquiring, 'Whatmust I do to be saved?' and not far off was some one ready to reply, 'Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. '

=An Ostrich Story. =

As a variation from our long record of work in camp and hospital, weclose this chapter with an ostrich story, and venture to take it intactfrom _News from the Front_ for April, 1900. 

 'In conjunction with the Rev. M. F. Crewdson, Mr. Ingram, of the S. C. A. , went to Arundel to take charge of a tent which was to be erected there. The tent not having arrived he says:--

 '"We went across the country some seven or eight miles, a terrible tramp, to visit some graves. It was a lonely, hot, and trying walk, and as we were half way back, about 1 p. M. , having been walking since 6. 15 a. M. , and having had no meal, we saw an ostrich making for us about a mile away. It was up to us in three minutes (a male bird), and had evidently seen us from its nest, where it was sitting, and thought we were going to interfere with it. It was an enormous bird, and was in a rage. It stopped some dozen paces from us, and whirled round, flapping its wings and looking truly awful. I gave Crewdson my pocket-knife, the only weapon we had, and as the wretched thing went circling round us, getting nearer and nearer, I suggested to Crewdson that if we came to close quarters, its neck would be our only chance (its body was higher than my head). He did not think it would come to close quarters, but seemed in a great state about our safety, and said, 'Keep together, old man. ' 'All right, ' I said; but the next moment Crewdson had turned to try and walk on. I felt to separate, or take our eyes off it, meant an attack, so walked backwards; but it no sooner saw that I was a pace or two nearer it than Crewdson than it came on me like a very whirlwind. I had been reading Psalm xci. In the rain that morning, and how grandly it was fulfilled! By a God-given instinct I dropped my haversack and your fieldglasses, and did not wait for it to reach me, in which case it would have pecked out my eyes and struck me with its claws, probably tearing my chest open, but sprang to meet it. Death seemed absolutely certain, and though my nerve was set, and, as it were, I mentally gave up my life, I met the bird with a thud. With both hands I caught its neck before it could lift a foot to strike; we both rolled over, and, with strength given me at the moment, I clung to its neck until I came up, 'top dog. ' But then with full fury it began to kick, and had I received a full blow I should have probably died, but I hugged too closely to it, and then wriggled on to its back, so that it kicked into the air away from me, and I only got a 'short arm' blow, and received bruises instead of wounds. 

 '"Crewdson did not know whether I was alive or dead at first, but at my shouts brought my knife; and while I was gripping its throat with both hands so that it could not breathe at all, and rolling about to avoid kicks, Crewdson tried to cut its gullet. This he could not do at first, so I took the knife with my left hand, holding the neck with my right, and dug the blade under the uplifted wing. It took effect, and the wing seemed to lose force, but the blade of my knife was broken, leaving half in the bird. I threw Crewdson the knife, and he opened another blade, and managed to cut the gullet. The thing was nearly stifled, and, feeling the knife, it gave a last and awful struggle, and I really feared I should be beaten; however, I also put forth a last effort, and gradually the kicks and the struggles subsided. I loosened my grip and let the blood flow; and when I thought it was pretty far gone, I jumped off and joined Crewdson. Even then it made a wild attempt to rise, but could not. Covered with dirt and blood, we plucked a few feathers, thanked the Lord for life, and tramped to Arundel, and arrived truly tired out. 

 '"The stationmaster told us that in 99 cases out of 100 the ostrich would have killed me. He says there is not a man in the country who would attempt to do what I did. "'

So there are in South Africa not only perils of Boors, of bullets, ofshells, of snakes, and of scorpions, but perils of ostriches too! Andfrom them one and all His workers may well pray, 'Good Lord, deliverus!'

Chapter XIV

WITH SIR REDVERS BULLER

Christian work among the troops in Natal went on apace for months priorto the advance upon Ladysmith. The Pietermaritzburg Y. M. C. A. , forinstance, provided two correspondence tents, which were of great serviceto the troops. 

We have the report of No. 1 tent before us. From December to April thistent was pitched successively at Chievely, Frere, Springfield, Spearman's, Zwart Kopjes, beyond Colenso, outside Ladysmith, ModderSpruit, and finally at Orange River Junction. Its work can be dividedunder four heads--Correspondence, Evangelistic, Literary, and Social. 

Every day saw the tent full of letter writers, and they were lying onthe ground in front of it also. As a rule not more than two sheets ofpaper and two envelopes were given to each applicant. But in this way noless than twelve thousand sheets and an equal number of envelopes weredistributed during the period named. These workers also performedamateur post office duties. They sold £25 worth of stamps, and receivedover nine thousand letters and three hundred papers and packages. Efforts were made to supply newspapers for the men, but the difficultiesof transport proved in the end too great to be satisfactorily overcome, though whenever possible they were obtained. 

Nearly every night evangelistic services were held, conducted by somemember of the tent staff of workers, or by an Army Scripture Reader, oran S. C. A. Man. 

Various social functions were successfully carried out, and our soldiersrejoiced over the good things provided for them. They do not, as a rule, care for free teas at home. You may coax them to go to them, as somebenevolent ladies do; but they can afford to pay for what they get, andthey prefer that plan. The other only spoils them. But abroad things aredifferent, and Tommy of the capacious appetite took all he could get. And so would you, my reader, had you been in his place. 

The South African General Mission was also in evidence. Mr. SpencerWalton kept sending good things into the camp of all kinds, and kept uphis ministry of 'comforts' even after Ladysmith was reached. 

Our old friends of the Soldiers' Christian Association were, of course, to the fore. They knew just how to do the rough-and-tumble workrequired. Tommy could understand them, because they understood him. Throughout the campaign there was evidence of Mr. Wheeler's carefulorganizing. His agents seem to have been most capable and successfulmen, ready for every good word and work, and the work itself such aswill stand the test of time. 

=Bivouac in a S. C. A. Tent. =

Take this as a specimen of the readiness to take advantage of any andevery opportunity. Mr. Fleming writes from Frere Camp:--

 'We were preparing for a meeting last night, when we discovered something like Boers in the distance coming towards our camp, but they turned out to be S. A. L. H. They pitched before our tent to bivouac for the night. When they had dismounted the rain began to fall in torrents. A major came over to me, and asked me where the canteen was; of course, it was shut. I asked him what he wanted to buy, as perhaps I could help him. He wanted socks. I took him into my tent, and gave him a bath and a pair of socks--made him a drop of "sergt. -majors'. " His gratitude was unbounded. He said, "Ah, this is true Christianity; you're a brick, old boy. Here's a sovereign subscription for your kindness. " I refused it. "Well, I'll never forget you!" "All right, " I said, "my name is on the socks"; then off I went to see about the others. Met the colonel. Offered him the freedom of our large marquee for his men to sleep in or shelter as they pleased. He was most grateful, so in the midst of a dreadful rainfall about two hundred of these fellows found shelter. All were hungry. We had five boxes of biscuits for our own use, and fifteen gallons of gingerbeer. Mr. Young, of the S. A. G. M. , who was a great help to me, took a bucket of the gingerbeer and some biscuits to the men on duty on the lines. 

 'It was impossible to have our meeting, but we had individual dealing with several. I never shall forget the sight of those men sleeping in the marquee. Two of them were huddled up in a box like monkeys. One man was wringing out his socks; he had fallen into a gun pit up to the waist in water. I wanted to lend him a pair, but he evidently thought that the feeling of dry socks would be too great a contrast to his wet body, for he positively refused my nice warm ones. About 10 p. M. I found three men sleeping outside in the rain. I asked one of them to come and share my tent. "No, thank you, sir, we have only one blanket between us. " "Come on, then, the three of you. " Then the invitation was accepted, and didn't they smile as I served them with hot coffee! Mr. Hide's tent (he is at Durban) I lent to a major and a captain. 

 'The water ran like a river through our camp, so heavy was the rainfall. I kept lights in our marquee all night, and toddled out and in to see all was right. I was not out of my clothes all night, but my lot was a happy one compared with those dear lads--they have not been out of their clothes for months, and have never had a tent to cover them. This morning, as they left, the gratitude of both officers and men was so intense that I had to clear off the scene--could not stand it. It has rained in torrents to-day. Got wet through. Had splendid meeting to-night. Sure there was definite working of the Holy Spirit. The Rev. James Gray, who gave the address, has been a great help to us. '[13]

Among the men of the Lancashire Fusiliers, who subsequently lost soheavily at Spion Kop, there were many conversions. And among the navalmen there were many grand Christians, who were delighted to availthemselves of the privileges and opportunities which the tent supplied. 

The chaplains were, of course, at the front with the men, or as near thefront as they could get, sharing their fatigues and many of theirdangers. 

[Footnote 13: _News from the Front_, May, 1900. ]

=A Bit of Christian Comradeship. =

Differences of denomination were for the most part forgotten, and theRev. Mr. Gedge, the Church of England chaplain, and the Rev. T. H. Wainman, the Wesleyan, were the best of friends and comrades. Mr. Gedgesoon became a power for good. His tent meetings were crowded, and hispreaching told with great effect, many being brought to Christ. Hisopen-air work was splendidly done. Here is a delightful bit of Christiancomradeship, which we wish we could see oftener repeated in thiscountry. The Rev. T. H. Wainman writes:--

 'After watching the men who were formed for guard duties, etc. , for some time, I noticed Major Gedge, the Church of England army chaplain, and several Army and Navy League workers come along, evidently intent on holding a voluntary service. I joined them, and helped in the singing of half a dozen hymns, which by this time had brought together a large number of the soldiers. Mr. Gedge asked me to give the address. I did so, and had a most happy time, the men listening for twenty minutes or more with evident interest. I interspersed my address with illustrations from my travels and experience in this country, which seemed to hold them in attention to the finish. The General Confession was then recited and a few other prayers from the Liturgy, and one of the most hearty and successful voluntary services was concluded by the singing of the hymn "Glory to Thee, my God, this night. " I went to my tent thankful for the good work being done by the various Christian organizations, and convinced that many went home with new aspirations after a better and nobler life. '[14]

[Footnote 14: _Methodist Times_, Feb. 8, 1900. ]

=The Chaplains of the Church of England. =

Here, perhaps, we may refer for a moment to the services of the Churchof England chaplains in general. The Church is singularly fortunate inthe men it has sent to the front. The senior chaplain with the Guards, Colonel Faulkner, has set an example to all the others by his intensedevotion. He has advanced all the way with Lord Roberts to Pretoria andbeyond. He has returned invalided, but not until he has nobly done thework he was commissioned to do. 

The chaplains sent out from Aldershot were men whom every one esteemsand loves. The praise of the Rev. R. Deane Oliver is on every one'slips. Of the Rev. A. F. C. Hordern we shall have occasion to speak when wecome to the siege of Ladysmith. The Rev. T. P. Moreton is an eloquentpreacher and a Christian gentleman, interested in all good work. Andwhat shall we say of the Rev. A. W. B. Watson? He is a hero, though, likeall other heroes, he would be the last to believe it. 

=Mr. Watson in the Soudan and in South Africa. =

Sitting at the tea table of a corporal of the Medical Staff Corps ashort time ago, we began to talk of Mr. Watson. 'Ah!' said he, 'Mr. Watson is my hero. You know he went through the Soudan campaign. I hadcharge of the cholera tent. At one time I was left alone to manage it. Not another chaplain but Mr. Watson came near. Twice a day he camewithout fail. One day he came in, and found me lying on the floor in astate of complete prostration. He lifted me up and carried me to histent. He then came back to the tent of which I had charge, and all dayhe attended to my poor cholera patients, washed them, and performed allmy most loathsome duties. Love him! of course I love him. I would laydown my life for him. '

Mr. Watson has gone to South Africa at the risk of his life, but hewould go. He had been through a severe operation, and was in a mostcritical condition. He begged permission to go, but of course thedoctors could not pass him. He could not, however, bear to think of hismen being there without him. And after trying one expedient afteranother, he, who had been refused permission on the ground ofill-health, at last got out under the plea that the climate of SouthAfrica might be beneficial! May God spare him for many years!

=The Rev. T. H. Wainman. =

But this is a long digression! The Wesleyan chaplain was the Rev. T. H. Wainman, a sturdy Yorkshireman, who had spent many years in South Africaas a Wesleyan missionary. He was not new to the duties of a chaplain, for years ago he was with Sir Charles Warren in Bechuanaland. He took tohis new work as though he had only just laid it down, and bullets andshells seemed to have no terror for him. 

At the parade service at Chievely on the day of the advance toSpearman's Hill, Mr. Wainman took for his text, 'Speak unto the childrenof Israel that they go forward. ' He might have known what was coming, for the last line of 'Onward, Christian Soldiers' had hardly been sung, and the Benediction pronounced, before rumours of the advance spreadthrough the camp, and by two p. M. The advance had really commenced. Atdaylight next morning the battle began, and Mr. Wainman describes whathe calls a 'cool piece of daring. '

='A Cool Piece of Daring. '=

 'At the same time the firing of cannon to our right was fast and furious, the shells dropping and bursting right among our field artillery. I watched with breathless anxiety, expecting all our guns to be abandoned, and half the men killed, when to my astonishment the men rode their horses right among the bursting shells, and hooking them to their guns rode quietly away, taking gun after gun into safety. In some instances a horse fell, and this necessitated the men waiting in their terrible position until another horse could be brought, harnessed, and attached to the gun. Eventually all were brought out of range, but a more plucky piece of daring and heroism I have never witnessed, and never expect to witness in my life. The officers rode up and down directing their men as though heedless of danger, and the only casualty I heard of, excepting the horses, was a captain having his foot shattered. '[15]

He himself showed many a cool piece of daring before he got toLadysmith, and when, after the fight at Spion Kop, some one had to goand bury the dead, he bravely volunteered, and performed this lastministry for his dead comrades under heavy fire. For his bravery on thatoccasion he was promoted to the rank of major. Those associated with himin this awful task were Major Gedge, the Church of England chaplain, andFathers Collins and Matthews (Roman Catholics). This was the FatherMatthews who was captured with his men at Nicholson's Nek, andafterwards released. 

There was now but little opportunity for ordinary Christian work. Thelast struggle for the relief of Ladysmith had commenced, and was to becarried on in grim earnest to the end. The men were ready to followtheir leaders anywhere, but could not understand the frequent retreats. This much every man knew, however, that when he marched out with hisregiment in the morning it was very doubtful whether he would be aliveat night. This thought sobered every one, and many a man prayed who hadnever prayed before. 

[Footnote 15: _Methodist Times_. ]

=General Lyttleton's Brigade Formed up for Prayer Before Going intoAction. =

One of the most remarkable facts of the campaign is this. Before GeneralLyttleton's brigade marched out from its camping ground for itsdesperate task it was formed up in close column--formed up not for aninspection, but for prayer. We have never heard of anything else like itin the history of war. The Bishop of Natal was with the troops, and hesuggested to General Lyttleton that the best preparation for the battlewas prayer. He himself led in prayer for the other regiments, while atthe request of the colonel the Army Scripture Reader attached to theScottish Rifles offered prayer. With prayer rising for them andfollowing them, they marched to the conflict. It was to many aSacrament. It was their _Sacramentum_--their oath of allegiance to theKing of kings. 

Strange things happen in war. Perhaps this is one of the strangest. Andyet if there were more prayer there would be less war. May be the voiceof prayer rising from our British army to the throne of God--rising alsofrom friends in the homeland far away, is another Sacrament--a sign anda seal of the blessings foretold when the Prince of Peace shall reign. 

=The Struggle for Spion Kop. =

Potgieter's Drift, Spion Kop, Pieter's Hill--these are names that willlive in the memory of every British soldier with Sir Redvers Buller. Ofall fights Spion Kop was perhaps the most terrible, as it was the mostdisastrous. It was called Spion Kop, or Spying Mountain, because it wasfrom this eminence the old Boer trekkers spied out the land in the daysgone by. It was more than a hill--it was a mountain, and a mountain witha most precipitous ascent. To climb it meant hauling oneself up from onerock to another. It was a task that required all a strong man'sstrength. Yet up it went our men without a moment's hesitation. It wasalmost like climbing a house side. But one man helped another, thestronger pulling up the weaker, until they halted for a momentbreathless at the top. 'Charge!' and away they went. The bayonets werecovered with blood after that awful charge, and then, their work for themoment accomplished, they lay down, for the bullets were whistlingaround them. In the dense darkness they began to build sangars as bestthey could. All night long they worked, and never for a moment werethey allowed to work in peace. When morning broke they saw that theirentrenchments were far too small, and though they held out all day, their position was commanded by the Boers on higher ground, and sobecame untenable. Shells burst behind every rock. Bullets like hailrained upon them, and although they fought as all true Britishers can, they were at last withdrawn--withdrawn, perhaps, when victory was almostwithin their grasp. 

It is not our purpose to describe the fight; that we leave to others. What we have said serves but as a reminder. The question that concernsus is, How did our men hold themselves through that awful day?

=Touching Incidents at Spion Kop. =

We read of one, a Wesleyan local preacher, --Mr. W. F. Low, --wounded by abullet through his collar bone and shoulder blade; wounded again by afragment of shell striking his leg, worn out by excitement andfatigue--so worn out that he actually slept, notwithstanding the pain ofhis wound, until awoke by sharp pain of his second wound. We read ofthis man crawling over to the wounded lying near him, passing water fromhis water-bottle to one and another, gathering the water-bottles of thedead men round about, and giving them to those yet living. And yet thecry of 'Water, ' 'Water!' was heard on every side, and there were many towhich he could not respond. He tells how many of the men were praying, how their cries of repentance seemed to him too often cries ofcowardice; though who would not fear to enter the presence of God allunprepared and unforgiven? Well might many of them cry for mercy. 

One man spent his last moments in writing a letter to his chum, who hadled him to Christ but the day before. 'Dear brother in Christ Jesus, ' hewrote, 'I owe my very soul to you. If it had not been for you, I shouldnot have been ready to die now. It seems hard only to give the last fewhours of my life to His service, but I must say "Good-bye. " The angelsare calling me home. I can see them and the glorious city. Good-bye, andmay God bless you!'

Says the one who in rough-and-ready fashion had so recently led his chumto Christ, 'It cheered me to know he was all right with the Master. NowI must look out for more work for Him. '

=The Tortures of the Wounded. =

Then started that sad procession to the rear--the procession ofox-waggons containing the poor mangled bodies of our wounded. Oh! thehorrors of it! 'How much longer will it be?' 'Will the road soon besmoother?' cried the longsuffering lads. Who shall tell the tale ofagony? Aye! who shall tell the heroism then displayed? Who shalldescribe how rough men became as gentle women, and how those racked withpain themselves yet tried to minister to the wants of others? Oh! war isdevil's work; but surely at no time do human love and human sympathyshow themselves so often, or prove themselves so helpful, as amidst itshorrors. 

Of all hospitals that at Mooi River was the best. This is the testimonyof one and all. 'You went in there, ' said one lad, 'a skeleton. You cameout a giant. ' And at Mooi at last, many of these poor wounded soldierlads found themselves, and amidst comfort that seemed to them luxury andrest that was heaven itself they were many of them wooed back to life. 

But what of the men still at the front? Effort after effort! Retreatfollowed by advance! Misunderstanding and mistake here and there. Andthen Pieter's Hill! Ask the soldier who has come back wounded fromPieter's Hill--and how many of them are there?--what he thought of it. He can give you but a confused picture of the fight. He has no idea ofthe plan in the general's mind. But ask him of his experiences. Hiswound was nothing; he will not dwell upon that. But the time spent uponthe ground after the wound was received--twenty-four hours, forty-eight, three days, and in one case, at any rate, so the poor fellow told us, four days--before the stretcher party carried them to the rear. It couldnot be helped. There was no reaching the wounded. They were scatteredfar and near. They lay where they fell, starving for want of food, dyingof thirst under a South African sun. Oh! the horror of it! But yoursoldier cannot describe it. It will be a nightmare to him for life. Youspeak to him on the subject 'How long did you lie there?' You want toinquire a little further; but he shakes his head, ' Don't ask me, 'twastoo awful, ' and he turns his head away. 

='Men, Christ can Save Me even Now. '=

Seated in the Buckingham Palace Soldiers' Home the other day, some menfrom Pieter's Hill were chatting together. 'And what was yourexperience?' said the chaplain. 'Oh! I just realized how God could save, and God could keep. It was terribly hard, but all through those fearfulbattles I had always peace--always joy. '

And then he continued, 'I never think of Pieter's Hill but I think ofArmstrong. You did not know Armstrong. He used to be in the orderly roomevery week--a bad lad was poor old Armstrong. But when we were in Indiahe gave himself to Christ. He was never in the orderly room after that. One day his major met him. "Armstrong, " said he, "what's the matter? wenever see you in the orderly room now. "

"No, sir, " he said, "old Armstrong's gone. A new Armstrong's come. ""What do you mean?" queried his officer. "Just this, sir; I've given myheart to God, and chucked the sin. "

'So he lived until he went to the war, and so he died. He passed throughSpion Kop unscathed, but on Pieter's Hill a bullet went through hishead. As he fell he cried, "Men, Christ can save me even now! It's allright, I'm going home, " and he died. '

The Guardsmen came thronging round while this man of the Royal IrishRifles told about his chum They listened with tears in their eyes; theylistened to tell the story again to others. And so the good news thatChrist can save upon the battle-field is sent flying through the Britisharmy. 

'Were you in that night attack at Ladysmith?' asked one turning toanother. 'Yes, I was there. ' 'Did you see Lieutenant Fergusson when hefell?' 'Yes, I was close to him. I went up to him and said, "Are youmuch hurt, sir? Can I take you in?" "No thank you, my lad; I'm donefor, " replied the dying officer. "Take some fellow you can save. '" Andso he, too, died like a hero. 

The officer inside the besieged town and the private soldier outsideattempting to save him--are one in this, that they know how to die; andEngland calls each 'hero'!

And so through blood and fire, over heaps of slain, General Sir RedversDuller passed into Ladysmith--passed in just in time; passed in to seemen with wan cheeks and sunken eyes--an army of skeletons; but passed into find the old flag still flying. 

[Illustration: AMBULANCE WORK ON THE FIELD. ]

Chapter XV

LADYSMITH

The defence of Ladysmith by Sir George White and his heroic band ofsoldiers will rank as one of the finest feats in British history. It isnot for us to tell the story of the siege. Historians of the war will dothat. We need only remind our readers that from October 30, 1899, whenthe bombardment began, to February 28, 1900, when General Buller'sadvance guard marched into the town, our troops were closelybesieged--besieged so closely that the Boers thought there was nopossible chance of relief. 'Ladysmith will never be relieved, ' said aBoer to one of our chaplains. 'No troops in the world will ever be ableto get through Colenso to Ladysmith. It is absolutely impregnable. ' Butthey did, and one hardly knows which to admire most the doggedpersistence of General Buller and his men or the heroic defence, thepatient, confident waiting of the beleaguered troops. 

='Thank God, We have Kept the Flag Flying. '=

It is, however, with the Ladysmith garrison we are concerned at thepresent time. These men had but little of the excitement of battle tostir their nerves and inspire them for fresh efforts. They had to fightthe sterner fight, --the fight with disease and famine. They watchedtheir comrades sicken and die--not one at a time, but by scores andhundreds--but they held on and held out for Queen and country. 

 'While ever upon the topmost roof Our banner of England blew. '

'Thank God, we have kept the flag flying!' said Sir George White, whenat last deliverance came. The words will become historic, and fatherswill tell their sons for long centuries to come how in Ladysmith, as atLucknow, English soldiers preferred rather to die than to surrender; andhow, surrounded as they were, they, for old England's sake, kept theflag flying. 

It remains for us to tell the story of Christian work in connection withthe siege, and through all the darkness of those terrible four monthssuch work runs as a golden thread of light. 

=Christian Workers in Ladysmith. =

There were in Ladysmith when the siege began three Church of Englandchaplains and one acting chaplain, viz. : Rev. E. G. F. Macpherson (seniorchaplain), at first attached to the Divisional troops; Rev. A. V. C. Hordern, attached to the Cavalry Brigade; Rev. J. G. W. Tuckey, attachedto the 7th Brigade; and the Rev. D. McVarish (acting chaplain), attachedto the 8th Brigade. In addition to these there were ArchdeaconBarker, of the local civilian church, and the Rev. G. Pennington, alocal clergyman attached as acting chaplain to the Colonial Volunteers. 

[Illustration: REV. A. V. C. HORDERN. 

(From a photograph by Knight, Newport, I. W. )]

The Presbyterians had one chaplain, viz. , the Rev. Thomas Murray, of theFree Church of Scotland, and one acting chaplain, the Rev. Mr. Thompson. 

The Wesleyan Methodists had one acting chaplain, the Rev. Owen SpencerWatkins, who had but a short time before returned from the Soudan, wherehe had accompanied the troops to Omdurman. There were also in the townthe Rev. S. Barrett Cawood, the local Wesleyan missionary, and the Rev. S. H. Hardy, of Johannesburg, who happened to be on a visit to the town, and who, though without official position, rendered yeoman servicethroughout the siege. 

In addition to these chaplains there were two or three Army ScriptureReaders. 

=Every Man Hit except the Chaplain. =

Most of these chaplains had already received their baptism of fire. AtReitfontein Messrs. Macpherson and Hordern had found themselves in aparticularly warm corner. Some fifteen men of the Gloucesters, with anofficer, were in a donga which provided hardly any cover, and the twochaplains going out to the Field Hospital had perforce to share withtheir comrades the dangers of the terrible position. The Boers werefiring at them with awful precision, and when the Liverpools--allunconscious that a handful of English were seeking cover in thedonga--commenced to fire at the Boers, it made retreat for thedauntless fifteen impossible. They had unwillingly to remain where theywere until the Boers were put out of action by the Liverpools. When atlast the firing ceased, it was found that nearly every man of thatunlucky fifteen was hit, with the exception of the chaplains, who cameout unscathed. 

This was an experience that perhaps would have been enough for most men, but chaplains, like private soldiers, have to get used to bullets flyingaround them. It is no use preaching religion to the men, if the chaplainis not able to show by his own coolness in the hour of danger that he isfit for something else than preaching, that he is ready to share themen's dangers and privations, and that he too can set an example ofcourage. 

Mr. Watkins had received his baptism of fire in the Soudan, and, likethe rest, did not fear the sharp ping, followed by the dull thud, of theMauser, or the deeper swish of the Martini. No one got used to shells. They ever continued a terror, and when the whistle sounded, givingwarning that the wisp of smoke had been seen coming from one of the BoerLong Toms, and intimating that in some twenty-eight seconds the dreadedshell would burst above them, it was astonishing how fast and how fareven the oldest and the stoutest could travel in search of cover. 

=Personal Dangers Met by Chaplains on Duty in the Field. =

One or two short stories may put into clearer perspective the personaldanger of our chaplains on the field. Messrs. Hordern and Tuckey wereboth with their men in the Lombard's Kop fight. Mr. Hordern was attachedto the Field Hospital, which was sheltering from the shot and shellunder the shadow of a huge hill. By-and-by came the order for thehospital to retire. It was about a mile and a quarter from Ladysmith, and there were no sheltering hills. The Red Cross was distinctly markedon the ambulance wagons, and the Indian dhooli-bearers must have beenclearly seen; but as soon as the hospital emerged from the cover of thehill a Boer gun opened fire upon it, and very soon shell was fallingupon all sides. With Mr. Hordern was the Rev. S. H. Hardy, and both ofthem were exposed to the full fire of the enemy. Mr. Hordern, thinkingthere might possibly be a safer place than the very centre of thecavalcade, spurred his horse forward, and the moment after a shell burston the very spot where he had been. 

On another occasion Mr. Owen Watkins was out with the Field Hospital, and he and the doctor dismounted in order, if possible, to bring in somewounded from under fire. They had just accomplished this self-imposedmission when a shot, coming a little too near, disturbed Mr. Watkins'horse, which bolted. In trying to find it he lost sight of the hospital, which had moved away, and found himself in desperate plight. Neitherhorse nor hospital to be seen, and a mile and a half of open countrybetween him and safety. The Boers' bullets were falling around him, andthere was nothing for it but to run, and amid a perfect hail of bulletshe fled in the direction of Ladysmith. That run seemed the longest inhis life, but unscathed he came through it, and found another hospitalwagon full of wounded, returning to the town. Into it he got, and otherhorrors of war were at once before him. He had no time to think of hisown near escape from death, for there was a dying lad upon his knee. Another was leaning his head on his shoulder, and his hands were busypassing water or brandy to the wounded or dying. 

Through such experiences our chaplains go, and go gladly, for Him who isat once their Saviour and their King. Not much is heard of their work, not often are they mentioned in despatches; only one of them has everreceived the Victoria Cross, but most of them are heroes, and deservewell of the country that gave them birth. It is sufficient for them thatthey receive the praise of God, and there can be no higher reward forthem than the Master's 'Well done. '

=Services in Ladysmith. =

Parade services in Ladysmith were difficult to hold. They were, however, held as regularly as possible. The chaplain would mount his horse about4. 45 a. M. , and ride off to some distant post. For a quarter of anhour he would pray with and talk to the men, and then ride to anotherservice at some further post. And so in the early morning he wouldconduct three or four different parades. 'Often, ' says Mr. Hordern, 'they used to hold them in the trenches, so as to be out of reach of theBoer guns. All the men had their rifles, ready to rush to their posts ata moment's notice. Every Sunday there was a celebration of the HolySacrament in the open air, and I shall never forget the sight--theofficers and men kneeling together, just leaving their rifles as theycame up to communicate, and going back to their posts immediatelyafterwards. The Boers pretended never to fight on Sundays, but theycould never trust them. One day they dropped eight shells into one ofhis cavalry parade services which was assembling. Although the Boerspretended to keep Sunday and not fire, yet some Monday mornings a newgun would open on them that was not in its position on the Saturday. That was one way of keeping Sunday. [16]

[Illustration: ONE OF THE LADYSMITH HOSPITALS. ]

The English church was open for worship all through the siege. It wasthe only church not used as a hospital; but its windows being small andits roof low, it would not have made an ideal hospital, and it didsplendid duty as a church. The other churches--the Wesleyan, Presbyterian, and Dutch Reformed--were gladly surrendered for hospitalpurposes, for there was all too little hospital accommodation, and alltoo great a need. 

For the most part the chaplains spent their Sunday mornings in visitingtheir men, going from regiment to regiment, and speaking a word forChrist wherever possible. 

As the months passed, and the Boer attentions became more personal andincessant, the troops at the front had to leave their huts or tents andsleep in the open, and everywhere tents, if used at night, were foldedup by day, and the troops were left absolutely without cover through theterrible heat, except such as they could find behind rock, or bush, ortree. 

[Footnote 16: Burnley _Express_, May 5, 1900. ]

=Disease in Ladysmith. =

And then came disease! Ladysmith had been singularly free from entericbefore the war. The scourge of South Africa had passed it by. But itfollows an army like an angel of destruction. For weeks its broad wingshovered above our troops, and then with fell swoop it descended. 

Intombi Hospital Camp was formed right under the shadow of MountBulwane, and by an arrangement with the Boers one train per day toLadysmith and back was allowed to run. It began with 250 patients, andat one time had as many as 1, 900. The formation of the camp meant tosome extent a division of Christian work. Messrs. Macpherson, Thompson, Owen S. Watkins, Cawood, and Hardy, together with Father Ford, remainedin the town and camp. Messrs. Hordern, Tuckey, Pennington, and Murray, together with Father O'Donnell, the Roman Catholic chaplain, went toIntombi. Later on, when the hospital became so crowded that it wasimpossible for the enfeebled staff of chaplains to cope with the work, Mr. Macpherson joined them. 

It is impossible to speak too highly of the heroism of these Intombichaplains. At first it is hard for most men to face shot and shell, butthere is always a thrill of excitement with it, and there is a strangefascination in danger of this kind, which has a weird charm all its own. But to face death in a great hospital camp such as this! To be all dayand half the night visiting the sick and dying where there are nocomforts, very little food, and the medicine has run short; to see thathospital steadily grow, --men on the bed-cots, men lying between them; towatch men struggling in the agonies of the disease, with dying men closebeside them; to have to step over one prostrate figure to get to theside of some dying man and whisper words of comfort and prayer, whileshrieks of agony come from either side; to feel weary, becominggradually weaker through want of food, to know that ere long one's ownturn would come, and the inexorable disease would claim its victim; togo through the same daily round of loathsome duty, and find in it one'shighest privilege; to endure, to suffer, to dare, to sympathise, tosoothe, to help; evening by evening to listen to the last requests ofdying men, and morning by morning to lay them in their hastily duggraves--all this requires heroism compared with which the heroism ofbattle pales into insignificance. We do not wonder that the Intombichaplains were mentioned in despatches, and that the love of thesoldier goes out to these devoted men. 

As Mr. Watkins felt it his duty to remain in Ladysmith Town with hismen, Mr. Murray had charge of the Wesleyans in Intombi, as well as ofthe Presbyterians. But, as a matter of fact, in face of such sternrealities as disease and death, all names and sects were forgotten. Thechaplains were all brethren, the men were all human beings for whomChrist died, and each did his best for all. Open-air parade serviceswere tried for the convalescents, but it soon became impossible to holdthem. The chaplains went round the marquees and prayed with and talkedto the men. The Church of England chaplains had Holy Communion everySunday morning, and for one month, until sickness prevented, there wasdaily Communion. 

By-and-by the list of dangerous cases became so large that it wasimpossible to go round in one visit. Enfeebled by work and want, thechaplains struggled from bed to bed, until often they were too weak tofinish their task. Their only relief was to get an occasional run intoLadysmith, and to that they looked forward as a haven of rest. Whatmattered if shells did fly about!--they had an occasional stray bulletat Intombi too--and shells, much as they were dreaded, were better thanenteric. 

It was during one of these occasional breaks that the four Church ofEngland chaplains were having lunch at the Ladysmith Hotel, when a shellburst right in the hotel itself. They were covered with dust, butthat was all. Not so easily, however, did they escape disease. One afterthe other at Intombi failed. Mr. Hordern was down with dysentery forbetween five and six weeks, Mr. Macpherson eight weeks, Mr. Tuckey hadNatal fever for three weeks, and all of them were left very enfeebled. 

[Illustration: REV. THOMAS MURRAY. 

(By permission of Mr. M. Jacolette, of Dover. )]

=Mr. Murray's Description of the Fight with Enteric Fever. =

Mr. Murray, of the Scotch Free Church, bravely struggled on. At one timehe was left single-handed. The admiration of the other chaplains forthis man was great indeed. He seemed to lead a charmed life, and thoughhe rapidly aged during the siege, he never gave up. He was overworkedand half-starved, but he always had a cheery word for every one. Hetells the story himself with characteristic modesty in _The Church ofScotland Home and Foreign Mission Record_. Let us listen to him:--

 'Very soon enteric fever and dysentery appeared among the troops, and the daily morning train from Ladysmith brought ever fresh batches of patients. The hospital camp grew rapidly. The maximum number was nearly 1, 900, but for many weeks the daily average was 1, 700. Unhappily, of the four Church of England chaplains, two were at an early stage laid aside by sickness, and for more than _five weeks_ the whole of the work fell to one Church of England chaplain and myself. We worked hand in hand. It was not a question of "religion, " but wherever spiritual help was needed, there one of us was found. Our first work each day was the burial of the dead. Daily, for three long months, _all of us_ might be seen heading the dismal procession of six, or ten, or fifteen, and on one occasion of nineteen dead, whom we were conducting to their last resting-place. That duty over, the remainder of the day was busily employed in ministering to the sick and dying in the numerous hospital marquees. On Sunday we did what we could to hold services in these marquees, but it was impossible on any one day to overtake all. There was, however, each Sunday afternoon an open-air service at which convalescent patients could be present. 

=Work Among the Refugees. =

 'Besides the work I have just described, I had another piece of work unexpectedly cut out for me, which was full of interest and rich in good fruits. 

 'Close by our hospital camps was a civilian camp, where dwelt in tents or in rude shanties several hundreds of refugees. There were well-to-do farmers and their families, driven from their homes in Upper Natal; railway people, station-masters, guards, clerks, etc. ; miners from Glencoe and Dundee; and not a few people from Ladysmith itself. The greater number of these were Scotch, and it was natural that I should take spiritual charge of them, for they were out in the wilderness, sheep without a shepherd. Every Sunday morning at ten o'clock, and Sunday evening at seven o'clock, I held an open-air service for them, the convalescent from the military camps attending likewise. It was a sight I shall never forget, to see these homeless ones sitting round me on the veldt, listening to the preaching of the Gospel, making welcome, as perhaps some of them had never done before, the precious promises of divine consolation of which their souls stood so much in need. Many were devout and earnest Christian men and women, and the weekly fellowship, in song and supplication, with God and with one another, did much, I do not doubt, to enable them to endure the tribulations which were their appointed lot. 

 'So, amid these many labours, the months flee past. You know the story of the several attempts to relieve us. Away over the hills, on December 15, we heard the fierce roll of the artillery, and our hopes beat high. But the ominous silence of the next few days prepared us for the mournful tidings that that attempt had failed. Then came January 6, and the determined assault by the Boers on Ladysmith. It began before dawn close by our camp, and all day long we watched the struggle, as it swayed this way and that, like the waves of the sea, till at last British valour gained the day. But much precious life was lost. 

 'After that, on January 20, the hills once more re-echoed the roar of distant artillery. This was the attempt at Spion Kop and Potgieter's Drift. After days of uncertainty, we learned that our relief was not yet. 

 'At last in the early weeks of February began the final and heroic effort of General Sir Redvers Buller's forces. Day and night the firing ceased not, and we rejoiced to mark that it came nearer and nearer. Suddenly the enemy's forces melted away, all in a night, as once before, long since, around Samaria. 

 'On Wednesday evening, February 28, we descried a small body of horsemen coming through a gap in the hills, as it were a little stream trickling down the mountain side. We looked in amazement. The British guns were silent. It could be no foe. Suddenly a loud British cheer burst from the advancing troop, and we knew our relief was accomplished. It was Lord Dundonald's advanced patrol. Next day, March 1, General Buller and his staff rode in. 

 'I have only to add that, by the good hand of God upon me, I have been preserved all through from sickness and disease. '

Of all things the men dreaded enteric. 'My lad, ' said Mr. Hordern to oneof the men who had just come into hospital, 'have you got entericfever?'

'No, sir, ' was the reply; 'I am _only_ wounded. '

They have come back now, hundreds of them, and as we interview them, oneand all declare in their own terse language, 'We would rather have threeor four hits than one enteric. '

=Testimonies to the Reality of Christian Work. =

But all this time Christian work in the town and camp had been goingsteadily forward. On Sunday as many services as possible were held, andnight by night Christian soldiers gathered together for prayer. Therewas a spirit of inquiry about spiritual things. Death was very near, andin its immediate presence the men felt the importance of decision forChrist. Letter after letter tells of conversions at the soldiers' simpleservices. 

Staff-Quarter-Master-Sergeant Luchford, for instance, writes a letterwhich is a sample of scores of others:--'On Tuesday last I managed toget the brethren together for a fellowship meeting, and a very blessedand helpful time we had, as each told out of the fulness of his hearthow great things the Lord had done for his soul. Last Sunday we also gottogether for an hour and pleaded with God for an outpouring of HisSpirit upon the congregation assembled for the service. One young fellowof the R. A. Was very deeply impressed, and I trust that the next news Ihear is that he has surrendered to the conquering power of the HolySpirit. '

=Stirring Events Related by Mr. Watkins. =

In the camp with his men Mr. Watkins was having stirring times. His wasthe excitement and dash, and when there was any fighting, he was sure tobe near. He narrates some strange experiences in the Methodist papers. We venture to quote one or two paragraphs from the _Methodist Recorder_. 

 'On December 7, there was a brilliant attack by the British on Gun Hill, where three of the Boer guns were captured. This brilliant attack was made by Colonial volunteers, led by Sir Archibald Hunter, and was entirely successful. The next morning there was a further attempt by the cavalry to cut the telegraph wires and tear up the railway which brought the Boers' supplies. This, however, was not so successful. The Boers were ready for our men, and they suffered severely. Then came the chaplain's opportunity. 

 'Hearing that there were wounded still lying on the field, I hastened off to see if I could be of any use, and had not gone far before I met a young medical officer, who had galloped in under a heavy fire. He told me that out in the open Captain Hardy (Medical Officer of the 18th Hussars) was lying in a hole with a severely wounded man, whom he could not get in because the firing was so hot. So, having with me a Red Cross flag, we turned our horses' heads and rode out to their assistance. For the first few seconds the bullets flew fast around us, but as soon as our flag was seen the firing ceased, we released our friends from their uncomfortable predicament, and sent back the wounded man in a dhooli. 

 'We were then met by two armed burghers carrying a white flag, who told us of yet other wounded lying in their lines, and offered to guide us to them. Under their care we penetrated right behind the firing line of the enemy, who were holding the ridge now between us and the town, and firing heavily. Here we found two of our gallant fellows dead--shot through the head--and several wounded men, and it was not long before the dhoolis we had brought with us were full. The burghers had shown every kindness to the wounded; each man had been provided with food and drink, and nothing could exceed the courtesy shown towards ourselves by these men, who were in the very act of firing on our comrades. A queer thing, war!

 'Having started the dhooli-bearers with their heavy loads on their way to town, Captain Hardy and myself continued our search along the ridge for wounded and dead, but were thankful to find there were no more. Once again we turned our faces to beleaguered Ladysmith, having collected, in all, two killed and fifteen wounded men, many of them badly hurt, poor fellows. 

 'The two following days were unusually quiet, and on the Sunday I was enabled to hold four services, which were very well attended, and to us all seasons of rich blessing. But on Sunday night the Rifle Brigade made an attack upon Surprise Hill, capturing a gun that for weeks past had been worrying us considerably, and blowing it into fragments in the air. The attack was well planned, and would have resulted in very small loss to us, only in blowing up the gun the first fuse used proved defective, and another train had to be laid, thus causing a delay of over ten valuable minutes. The result was that the Boers had time to turn out in force from a neighbouring laager, and were waiting to receive our men as they came down the hill. Then ensued a scene of indescribable confusion; in the darkness it was impossible to distinguish friend from foe, and the shouts of our men were answered in English by the enemy, thus making the confusion a hundred times worse. One who was present told me that it was the most terrible experience of his life. They came down the hill between a lane of blazing rifles, sometimes the flash not being more than five yards from them. Few ever expected to get out alive, but the men behaved splendidly, charging with the bayonet again and again, and when at last the foot of the hill was reached asking their Colonel (Lieut. -Colonel Metcalfe) for permission to charge again. 

=Within the Boer Lines. =

 'Of course, as soon as it was light the doctors of the Bearer Company, with dhoolies, were out to seek amongst the rocks for the wounded and the slain, and it was not long before I was on my way to join them. But on reaching our outpost on Observation Hill I was told that the Boers were so infuriated at the loss of another gun that they had taken the doctors prisoners and were going to send them to Pretoria. But just at that moment a native came in with a note from the senior medical officer, asking that surgical necessaries be sent at once, for many of the wounded were seriously hurt. After much parley through the telephone with head-quarters, it was at last decided that the things be sent at once, and if I were willing that I should be the bearer, for the Boers were more likely to respect "the cloth" than anything else; also by previous visits I had become known to many of the burghers. So forthwith I started upon what many said was my way to Pretoria, and on reaching the enemy, truth to say, it looked very much like it. They were furiously angry, and I was made to join the little group of doctors, bearers and wounded, who, under a strong guard, were sitting and lying under the shade of a tree. 

[Illustration: AMBULANCE WAGONS ON THEIR WAY TO THE FIELD. ]

 'But before very long we were at liberty again. A flag of truce had been sent out by General White, expostulating with the Boer general, and resulted in the general in question--General Erasmus--galloping up to tell us we were at liberty to continue our work, only we must be as quick about it as possible. Fifty-one wounded men we found, three of them officers, and nine killed, of whom one was an officer. At the foot of the hill that they had won we buried them, marking the place where they lay with stones heaped over the grave in the form of a cross. Then we wearily returned to camp, for by then the day was far spent, and we had had nothing to eat since dawn. That night I was again called to perform the sad ceremony of burial. Four men had died of their wounds during the day, and in darkness it had to be done, for the cemetery is within reach of the enemy's guns, and we feared to show a light, lest it should "draw fire. " So I recited as much of the Burial Service as I could remember, and offered an extemporary prayer. It was a strange experience thus to bury our comrades by stealth; but, alas! during these latter days it has ceased to seem strange, because of its frequency. '

=Work in Ladysmith Town. =

Meanwhile in the town, and sometimes with the soldiers in the fight, Mr. Cawood and Mr. Hardy were rendering splendid service. Mr. Cawood kept ingood health throughout, but when, on the relief of Ladysmith, thePresident of the South African Conference (Rev. W. Wynne) visited thetown, he reported that Mr. Cawood looked ten years older. No wonder thatsuch was the case, for he was in labours more abundant, and nothing wastoo mean or trivial for him to perform. Such was also the case with Mr. Hardy. He did not seem to know fear. Brave when the bullets fell thick, he was just as brave in the midst of the strain of hospital work. He wasbut a visitor in the town, and had no official connection with eithertroops or civilian church. But he turned his hand to anything, and whenthe hospitals were crowded and workers were few, he actually had himselfappointed a hospital orderly, and performed the meanest and mostloathsome duties of the hospital nurse. He kept in good health to thelast, and then almost every disease seemed to come upon him at once. Forlong he lay in the agonies of enteric fever, and almost lost his life. But he counted that not too great a gift for his Master and his country. We honour them both--the old veteran and the young missionary. In fact, where all were brave and devoted, it is invidious to pick out one ortwo of these devoted men for special mention. Each in his own specialsphere tried bravely to do his duty. Meanwhile the town was becomingfull of enteric cases, for Intombi camp had no further accommodation, and only the most serious cases could be sent there. The churches werethen, as already intimated, utilised as hospitals, and it was in themthat the chaplains left in Ladysmith and with the soldiers performedtheir ministry of love. Most of these buildings at some time or otherfelt the force of the Boer shells, and the native minister's house bythe side of the Wesleyan church was shattered. He, poor fellow, lostboth wife and child during the siege, and himself was laid low byenteric fever. 

=Terrible Scenes at Intombi Hospital. =

But let us return to Intombi. Slowly the average number of cases wasincreasing. Daily at 9. 30 the mournful procession passed to thecemetery. That cemetery contained at last about seven hundred bodies. Every grave was marked and numbered. Mr. Hordern began this work, butwhen his health failed, Mr. Murray continued and completed it. So thatthere is a strict record left of every one lying there, and any onewishing to erect a tombstone can do so. Such service as this wasthoughtful indeed, and friends at home will greatly appreciate it. 

For three weeks at Intombi they were on quarter rations. Then, asBuller's guns were heard in the distance, they were allowed halfrations; but on Ash Wednesday morning, the morning of relief, they werereduced to quarter rations again. What this meant who can tell? Howcould they resist disease? There are horrors over which we throw a veil. Sufficient that they were necessary horrors--that they could not beprevented. But only the doctors and the chaplains know what our menpassed through in Intombi camp. But no one complained--that was thewonder of it. 'Oh! sir, when do you think Buller will get through?' wasthe nearest to complaint ever heard. They suffered and they died, butthey murmured not. 

='The Way He was Absent-minded was that He Forgot Himself!'=

Listen to what Mr. Hordern has to say about it:--

 'Every morning they had the awful procession of dead carried down to the cemetery, each man sewn up in his own blanket, and reverently buried, each man having done his duty and laid down his life for his Queen and country. And the brave old Tommy Atkins was called "an absent-minded beggar, " a fine title itself, though it referred to him in the wrong way. He was not absent-minded, for he had a warm corner in his heart for those at home. The way he was absent-minded, was that _he forgot himself_. I knew one man who had two or three letters from home, which he carried about in his pocket, and although he longed to read them again, he dare not do so because, he said, he should break down if he did. The boys never forgot their homes. There was one dead soldier, a poor lad of the Irish Fusiliers, who was shot through the body, and afterwards in searching his clothes they found a letter ready written and addressed to his mother. He hadn't a chance of posting it. _He_ was not an absent-minded beggar. _He_ didn't forget to write to his mother. When they pulled his letter from his pocket, it was impossible to post it, as it was covered with his blood. I re-addressed it and sent it off to the dead soldier's mother. '

There was another story which showed the forgetfulness of the soldierfor himself. That happened in the relieving column. An officer was badlywounded. It was dusk, and our troops had to retire down the kopje undercover, though next day they took it. When they retired that night, thewounded officer could not be moved, and so four men refused to leavehim. They remained with him all night without food or water, in order toprotect him from the bullets which were flying about--one lying at hishead, one at his feet, and one on either side. Those were absent-mindedbeggars--_absent-minded for themselves_!

Mr. Hordern was talking to a starved wreck of a man one day, and heasked him what was the first thing he wanted when the relief camethrough. He expected to hear him say food of some sort. But no; thisabsent-minded beggar said, 'The first thing, sir, medical comforts forthe sick. ' He then asked him what was the next thing he should like. Hethought he would say food _this_ time; but no, his reply was, 'TheEnglish mail. ' He then asked what would he like after that, and thesoldier replied that he would then have his food. [17]

Of such stuff were British soldiers made in Ladysmith, and of such stuffare they, with all their faults, the wide world over!

[Footnote 17: Burnley _Express_, May 5, 1900. ]

=Lads, We are Going to be Relieved To-day. '=

But the time of deliverance was drawing near. Hope deferred had made theheart sick. Time after time had Buller's guns seemed to be drawingnearer, and time after time had the sound grown faint in the distance. They were on quarter rations again, and that meant that Colonel Ward, careful man as he was, had feared a longer delay. One of thechaplains--he has told the writer the story himself, but prefers thathis name be not mentioned--was lying on his back in his tent at Intombi, reading the morning service to those gathered round. He was weak fromdisease and starvation, and it was no easy task to stand or walk. As heread the Psalm for the day (Ash Wednesday, Psalm vi. ), it seemed to hima very message from God. His eye caught the tenth verse, 'All mineenemies shall be confounded and sore vexed: they shall be turned back, and put to shame suddenly. ' He read it again and again. Surely God wasspeaking to him through His Word. 'Turned back, ' he said to himself;'ashamed _suddenly_. ' It seemed as though it was a personalillumination from God. He rose to his feet, and going into the tentwhich contained the worst cases, he said, 'Lads, I've come to tell youwe are going to be relieved to-day or if not to-day, at any rate verysoon--_suddenly_. Listen, lads; this is my message from God. ' And heread them the passage. Every face brightened as he read, and his own wasdoubtless lit up with a light from another world. 

That night, as he was lying down worn out with fatigue and excitement, he heard a British cheer, and everybody rushed out to inquire what itmeant. There in the far distance a column of mounted troops, were slowlymarching along. Who were they--British? 'No, ' said one of the soldiers;'they are marching too regularly for that. ' 'Boers?' 'No, ' said another;'they are marching too regularly for Boers. ' 'Who can they be?' 'Iknow, ' said a third; they are Colonials. ' He was right. 'But wait aminute, ' said another; 'let us see if Cæsar's Camp fires upon them. ' Butno, Cæsar's Camp kept on pounding away at Mount Bulwane as it had donefor months, only with more energy than usual. And then cheer upon cheerbroke from these poor emaciated wrecks in Intombi. Hand clasped hand, and tears rained down all faces. 

Back into the marquee into which he had been the morning rushed thechaplain. 'Lads, I told you this morning! "_Suddenly_, " lads, "_suddenly_, " they were to be turned back "_suddenly_. " It is true; mymessage was from God. Buller is here!' And then the dying rousedthemselves and lived, and voices were uplifted in loud thanksgiving. 

And so Lord Dundonald's Colonial troops marched into the town, to begreeted as surely men were never greeted before; to be hailed assaviours, as life-givers, as heroes. Watch them. They have onlytwenty-four hours' rations with them, and they have had a hard, roughtime themselves, but they give it all away. How can they deny anythingto these living skeletons standing around!

And what did it mean in Ladysmith? It meant this--at Intombi, at anyrate. When Buller's guns sounded nearer, the poor fever-strickenpatients brightened up, and roused themselves with a fresh effort forlife. When the sound of his firing receded into the distance, they justlay back and died. His entry into Ladysmith was life from the dead. 

'=It was Time He Came=. '

It was time that he came. Food was at famine prices. Eggs sold at 48s. Per dozen, and one egg for 5s. ; a 1/4-lb. Tin of tobacco sold for 65s. ;chicken went for 17s. 6d. Each; dripping, 1/4-lb. At 9s. 6d. , and so on. Chevril soup (horseflesh) became the greatest luxury, and was not at allbad; while trek-oxen steak might be looked at and smelled, but to eat itwas almost impossible. One of the most pathetic, and at the same timemost comical, sights to be witnessed during the siege, was surely thatof one enthusiastic lover of the weed, who, unable to procure any of thegenuine article for himself, followed closely in the wake of an officerin more fortunate circumstances, in order that at any rate he might getthe smell and have the precious smoke circle round his head. 

It was time, we say, for Buller to come. Relief came not a day too soon. But a short time longer could the beleaguered men hold out. But he cameat last, and when next day he entered the town, bending low over hissaddle, worn out with his great exertions, the sight that met his gazewas one never to be forgotten. These men whom he had known in thegreatness of their strength at Aldershot were little more thanskeletons, hardly able to show their appreciation of his splendidefforts, so weak were they. 

'You should have seen the general _cry_, ' said a group of men fromLadysmith at the Cambridge Hospital the other day. It was their way ofputting the case. The apparently stolid, dogged, undemonstrativeEnglishman broke down completely, as he gazed upon the sights aroundhim. And no wonder! He had come not a moment too soon. But he had comein time. 'Thank God, ' said Sir George White, 'we have kept the flagflying!'

=A Story of Devotion. =

One story of devotion more, and our tale of Ladysmith is at an end. There was a certain much-loved chaplain shut up in Ladysmith, whogreatly enjoyed a smoke. In Buller's relief column there were men wholoved him well, and who knew his love for a pipe. When they leftColenso, eleven of them each carried under his khaki tunic aquarter-pound tin of tobacco for the chaplain. And then came all thehorrors of that terrible struggle to reach the beleaguered town, culminating in the awful fight at Pieter's Hill. One after another, vainly trying to keep their cherished possession, parted with it bit bybit during those dreadful weeks; but one of them carried it all thetime, and never so much as touched it. When at last he reachedLadysmith, he had to march right through to encamp several miles beyondthe town. But next day he got a permit and tramped back to Ladysmith, found out his friend the chaplain, and handed over his treasure to him. All black and grimy was that sacred tin of tobacco, black with the smokeof battle, and dented by many a hard fight; but it was there--intact--anoffering of devotion, a holy thing, a pledge of love. That chaplain hasit still; he could not smoke it, it was far too precious for that. Ithas become one of his household gods, to be kept for ever as a token ofa soldier's love. 

And now we say good-bye to our gallant Ladysmith garrison. We shall meetmany of them again on other fields. The siege proved that there was nota man of them without a religious corner somewhere. Hundreds of themturned to God with full purpose of heart; and to every one of them OldEngland owes a debt of gratitude. As we say good-bye, we are reminded ofTennyson's lines about the soldiers of Lucknow--lines just as true ofthe men of Ladysmith as of them:--

 'Handful of men as we were, we were English in heart and in limb, Strong with the strength of the race, to command, to obey, to endure; Each of us fought as if hope for the garrison hung but on him;

 * * * * *

 And ever upon the topmost roof our banner of England blew. '

Chapter XVI

'IN JESU'S KEEPING'

At the annual 'Roll Call Meeting, ' held in Wesley Hall, Aldershot, inJanuary, 1900, we took as our 'Motto' for the next twelve months thewords of Bishop Bickersteth's beautiful hymn--

 'In Jesu's keeping we are safe, and they. '

All of us had friends in South Africa. Most of us had relatives there;and as we bowed in prayer together we thought of the famous prayer oflong ago: 'The Lord watch between me and thee when we are absent onefrom another. '

All the way through we have realized that there was a God of lovewatching between us. All the way through we have been quite certain that'in Jesu's keeping' they were safe. 

Some of them we shall never see again on earth, but they are still 'inJesu's keeping. ' Some of them are still far away from us fighting fortheir country. But they, too, are 'in Jesu's keeping, ' and for them weare not afraid. We said 'Good-bye' many months ago, but it meant 'God bewith you, ' and our farewell prayer has been answered. _Here_ or _there_we expect to clasp hands with them again. 

And the comfort that has been ours in Old England has been theirs inSouth Africa. They, too, have thought of loved ones far away. They, too, have realized--

 'In Jesu's keeping we are safe, and they. '

'The Soldier's Psalm' has been read and rejoiced in all through SouthAfrica. 

 'He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust. Thou shall not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee. . . . He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him. I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him. With long life will I satisfy him, and show him My salvation. '

Chanted in many a service, repeated in the darkness on outpost duty, remembered even amid the fury of the battle, this Soldiers' Psalm hasbeen to thousands a source of comfort and strength. 

 * * * * *

With its blessed words ringing in our ears we close this book. The waris not yet over. Disease has not yet claimed all its victims. Thefateful bullet has not delivered its final message of death. But ourloved ones are 'in Jesu's keeping, ' and we are content to leave themthere. With them and with us it may be 'Peace, perfect peace. '

Butler & Tanner. The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London.