[Illustration: H. W. NEVINSON]

LADYSMITH

THE DIARY OF A SIEGE

BY

H. W. NEVINSON

AUTHOR OF "THE THIRTY DAYS' WAR"

METHUEN & CO. 36 ESSEX STREET W. C. LONDON1900

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER PAGE

 I. ON THE EDGE 1

 II. AT THE BRITISH FRONT 9

 III. THE FIRST WEEK'S WAR 20

 IV. BATTLE OF ELANDS LAAGTE 30

 V. BATTLE OF TINTA INYONI 41

 VI. THE REVERSE AT NICHOLSON'S NEK 51

 VII. HEMMED IN 61

 VIII. TRAGEDY AND COMEDY 72

 IX. INCIDENTS, ACCIDENTS, AND REALITIES 83

 X. ENNUI ENLIVENED BY SUDDEN DEATH 100

 XI. FLASHES FROM BULLER 129

 XII. THE NIGHT SURPRISE ON GUN HILL 138

 XIII. THE CAPTURE OF SURPRISE HILL 156

 XIV. THE SEASON OF PEACE AND GOODWILL 176

 XV. SICKNESS, DEATH, AND A NEW YEAR 194

 XVI. THE GREAT ATTACK 211

 XVII. A PAUSE AND A RENEWAL 231

XVIII. "WITHIN MEASURABLE DISTANCE" 250

 XIX. HOPE DEFERRED 265

 XX. SUN AND FEVER 279

 XXI. RELIEVED AT LAST 291

 APPENDIX 299

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE

PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR _Frontispiece_

MAP OF LADYSMITH AND NEIGHBOURHOOD 12

GENERAL SIR GEORGE STEWART WHITE, V. C. , G. C. I. E. , G. C. B. , G. C. S. I. 18

PLAN OF THE BATTLE OF ELANDS LAAGTE 32

LOMBARD'S KOP 56

IMPERIAL LIGHT HORSE SHELTERS 77

THE DRIFT AND WATERING-PLACE 80

BULWAN 105

HOSPITAL IN TOWN HALL AFTER A SHELL 127

BREECH BLOCK FROM GUN HILL 148

A PICTURESQUE RUIN 183

HEADQUARTERS AFTER A 96LB. SHELL 186

EFFECT OF 96LB. SHELL ON A PRIVATE HOUSE 201

SPECIMEN OF BOER SHELLS 252

INDIAN BAKERY 268

GENERAL RT. HON. SIR R. H. BULLER, V. C. , G. C. B. , K. C. M. G. , K. C. B. (_photograph by KNIGHT, Aldershot_) 291

SKETCH PLAN OF COUNTRY SOUTH AND WEST OF LADYSMITH 306

NOTE

This book has been reprinted, by kind permission of the Proprietors ofthe _Daily Chronicle_, from the full text of the Letters sent to thepaper. 

LADYSMITH

THE DIARY OF A SIEGE

CHAPTER I

ON THE EDGE

 NEWCASTLE, NATAL, _Thursday, October 5, 1899_. 

Late last Sunday night I found myself slowly crawling towards the frontfrom Pretoria in a commandeered train crammed full of armed Boers andtheir horses. I had rushed from the Cape to quiet little Bloemfontein, the centre of one of the best administered States in the world, wherethe heads of the nation in the intervals of discussing war proudlyshowed me their pianos, their little gardens, little libraries ofEnglish books, little museums of African beasts and Greek coins, and alltheir other evidences of advancing culture. Then on to Pretoria, thesame kind of a town on a larger and richer scale--trim bungalow houses, for the most part, spread out among gardens full of roses, honeysuckle, and syringa. But at the station all day and night the scene was notidyllic. Every hour train after train moved away--stores and firewood infront, horses next, and luggage vans for the men behind. The partingsfrom lovers and wives and children must be imagined. They are bad enoughto witness when our own soldiers go to the front. But these men are notsoldiers at all. Each of them came direct from his home in the town oron some isolated farm. They rode up, dressed just in their ordinaryclothes, but for the slung Mauser and the full cartridge belt over theshoulder or round the waist. Except for a few gunners, there is nouniform in the Boer Army. Even the officers can hardly be distinguishedfrom ordinary farmers. The only thing that could be called uniform isthe broad-brimmed soft hat of grey or brown. But all Boers wear it. Itis generally very stained and dirty, and invariably a rusty crape bandis wound about the crown. For the Boer, like the English poorer classes, has large quantities of relations, and one of them is always dying. 

By the courtesy of the Pretorian Government I had secured room in theguard's van for myself and a companion, who was equally anxious tocross the Natal frontier before the firing began, and that was expectedat any moment. In the van with us were a score of farmers fromMiddleburg way, their contingent occupying four trains with about 800men and horses. For the most part they were fine tall men with shaggylight beards, reminding one of Yorkshire farmers, but rougher and not sowell dressed. Most of them could speak some English, and many had Scotchor English relatives. They lay on the floor or sat on the edge of thevan, talking quietly and smoking enormous pipes. All deeply regrettedthe war, regretted the farm left behind just when spring and rain arecoming, and they were full of foreboding for the women and children leftat the mercy of Kaffirs. There was no excitement or shouting or bravadoof any kind. So we travelled into the night, the monotony only broken byone violent collision which shook us all flat on the floor, while armsand stores fell crashing upon us. In the silent pause which followed, whilst we wondered if we were dead, I could hear the Kaffirs chatteringin their mud huts close by, and in the distance a cornet was playing"Home, Sweet Home, " with variations. 

It must have been the next evening, as we were waiting three or fourhours, as usual, for the line to clear, that General Joubert came up ina special train. A few young men and boys in ordinary clothes formed his"staff. " The General himself wore the usual brown slouch hat with crapeband, and a blue frock coat, not luxuriously new. His beard was quitewhite, but his long straight hair was still more black than grey. Thebrown sallow face was deeply wrinkled and marked, but the dark browneyes were still bright, and looked out upon the world with a kind ofsimplicity mingled with shrewdness, or perhaps some subtler quality. Hespoke English with a piquant lack of grammar and misuse of words. When Itravelled with him next day, almost the first thing he said to me was, "The heart of my soul is bloody with sorrow. " His moderating influenceon the Kruger Government is well known, and he described to me how hehad done his utmost for peace. But he also described how bit by bitEngland had pushed the Boers out of their inheritance, and takenadvantage of them in every conference and native war. He wasparticularly hurt that the Queen had taken no notice of the long letteror pamphlet he wrote to her on the situation. And, by the way, I oftenobserved what regard most Boers appear to feel for the Queen personally. They constantly couple her name with Gladstone's when they wish to sayanything nice about English politics. As to the General's views on thecrisis, there would be little new to say. Till the present war his hopehad been for a South African Confederacy under English protection--theCape, Natal, Free State, and Transvaal all having equal rights and localself-government. He knows well enough the inner causes of the presentevils. "But now, " he said, "we can only leave it to God. If it is Hiswill that the Transvaal perish, we can only do our best. "

At Zandspruit, the scene of the old Sand River Convention, the wholeBoer camp crowded to the station to greet the national hero, and he wasat once surrounded by a herd of farmers, shaking his hands and pattinghim warmly on the back. It was a respectful but democratic greeting. TheBoer Army--if for a moment we may give that name to an unorganisedcollection of volunteers--is entirely democratic. The men are nominallyunder field cornets, commanders, and the General. But they openly boastthat on the field the authority and direction of officers do not countfor much, and they go pretty much as they please. The camp, though notin the least disorderly, was confused and irregular--stores, firewood, horses, cattle, and tents strewn about the enormous veldt, almosthaphazard, though the districts were kept fairly well separate. Provisions were plenty, but the cooking was bad. It took three days toget bread made, and some detachments had to eat their meat raw. I thinkthere were not more than 10, 000 or less than 7, 000 men in the camp atthat time, but the commandeered trains crawled up every two or threehours with their new loads. 

By a piece of good fortune we succeeded in crossing the frontier in anopen coal-truck. The border-line runs about six miles north of Majubaand Laing's Nek, the last Boer village being Volksrust, and Charlestownthe first English. The scenery changes rapidly; the high, bare veldt ofthe Southern Transvaal is at once left behind, and we enter the broadvalley of Natal, sloping steadily down to the sea and becoming richerand more tropical as it descends. All regular traffic had stopped threedays before, but now and then a refugee train came up to the frontierand transhipped its miserable crowd. Fugitives of every nation have beenhurrying to the railway in hopes of escape. The stations far down intoNatal are constantly surrounded with patient groups, waiting, waitingfor an empty truck. Hindoos from Bombay and Madras with their goldennose-rings and brilliant silks sit day and night waiting side by sidewith coal-black Kaffirs in their blankets, or "blue-blooded" Zulus whorefuse to hide much of their deep chocolate skin, showing a kind ofpurple bloom like a plum. The patient indifference with which thesesavages will sit unmoved through any fortune and let time run over them, is almost like the solemn calm of nature's own laws. The whites arerestless and probably suffer more. Many were in extreme misery. Three orfour young children died on the journey. One poor woman became a motherin the train just after the frontier, and died, leaving the baby alive. At the border I found many English and Scotch families, who had drivenacross the veldt from Ermelo, surrendering all their possessions. Allspoke of the good treatment the Boers had shown them on the journey, even when the waggon had outspanned for the night close to the Boercamp. I came down to Newcastle with a Caithness stonemason and hisfamily. They had lost house, home, and livelihood. They had evenabandoned their horses and waggon on the veldt. The woman regretted herpiano, but what really touched her most was that she had to wash herbaby in cold water at the lavatory basin, and he had always beenaccustomed to warm. So we stand on the perilous edge and suffervariously. 

CHAPTER II

AT THE BRITISH FRONT

 LADYSMITH, NATAL, _Wednesday, October 11, 1899_. 

Ladysmith breathes freely to-day, but a week ago she seemed likely tobecome another Lucknow. Of line battalions only the Liverpools werehere, besides two batteries of field artillery, some of the 18thHussars, and the 5th Lancers. If Kruger or Joubert had then allowed theBoers encamped on the Free State border to have their own way, no onecan say what might have happened. Our force would have been outnumberedat least four to one, and probably more. In event of disaster the Boerswould have seized an immense quantity of military stores accumulated inthe camp, and at the railway station. What is worse, they would haveisolated the still smaller force lately thrown forward to Dundee, so asto break the strong defensive position of the Biggarsberg, which cutsoff the north of Natal, and can only be traversed by three difficultpasses. Dundee was just as much threatened from the east frontier beyondthe Buffalo River, where the Transvaal Boers of the Utrecht and Vryheiddistrict have been mustered in strong force for nearly a fortnight now. With our two advanced posts "lapped up" (the phrase is a little mustyhere), our stores lost, and our reputation among the Dutch and nativepopulations entirely ruined, the campaign would have begun badly. 

For the Boers it was a fine strategic opportunity, and they wereperfectly aware of that. But "the Old Man, " as they affectionately callthe President, had his own prudent reasons for refusing it. "Let theenemy fire first, " he says, like the famous Frenchman, and so far he hasbeen able to hold the most ardent of the encamped burghers in check. "Ifhe should not be able!" we kept saying. We still say it morning andevening, but the pinch of the danger is passed. Last Thursday night the1st Devons and the 19th Hussars began to arrive and the crisis ended. Yesterday before daybreak half the Gordons came. We have now a mountainbattery and three batteries of field artillery, the 19th Hussars (the18th having gone forward to Dundee), besides the 5th Lancers (the "IrishLancers"), who are in faultless condition, and a considerable mixedforce of the Natal Volunteers. Of these last, the Carbineers are perhapsthe best, and generally serve as scouts towards the Free State frontier. But all have good repute as horsemen, marksmen, and guides, and atpresent they are the force which the Boers fear most. They are split upinto several detachments--the Border Mounted Rifles, the Natal MountedRifles (from Durban), the Imperial Light Horse, the Natal Police, andthe Umvoti Mounted Rifles, who are chiefly Dutch. Then of infantry thereare the Natal Royal Rifles (only about 150 strong), the Durban LightInfantry, and the Natal Field Artillery. As far as I can estimate, thetotal Natal Volunteer force will not exceed 2, 000, but they are wellarmed, are accustomed to the Boer method of warfare, and will be watchedwith interest. Unhappily, many of them here are already suffering fromthe change of life and food in camp. That is inevitable when volunteersfirst take the field. 

But Ladysmith has an evil reputation besides. Last year the troops herewere prostrated with enteric. There is a little fever and a good dealof dysentery even now among the regulars. The stream by the camp iscondemned, and all water is supplied in tiny rations from pumps. Themain permanent camp is built of corrugated iron, practically the solebuilding material in South Africa, and quite universal for roofs, sothat the country has few "architectural features" to boast of. Thecavalry are quartered in the tin huts, but the Liverpools, Devons, Gordons, and Volunteers have pitched their own tents, and a terribletime they are having of it. Dust is the curse of the place. We rememberthe Long Valley as an Arcadian dell. Veterans of the Soudan recall theblack sand-storms with regretful sighs. The thin, red dust comeseverywhere, and never stops. It blinds your eyes, it stops your nose, itscorches your throat till the invariable shilling for a little glass ofany liquid seems cheap as dirt. It turns the whitest shirt brown in halfan hour, it creeps into the works of your watch and your bowels. It liesin a layer mixed with flies on the top of your rations. The white antseat away the flaps of the tents, and the men wake up covered with dust, like children in a hayfield. Even mules die of it in convulsions. It wasin this land that the ostrich developed its world-renowned digestivepowers; and no wonder. 

[Illustration: MAP OF LADYSMITH AND NEIGHBOURHOOD]

The camp stands on a barren plain, nearly two miles north-west of thetown--if we may so call the one straight road of stores and tin-roofedbungalows. Low, flat-topped hills surround it, bare and rocky. But tounderstand the country it is best to climb into the mountains of thelong Drakensberg, which forms the Free State frontier in a series ofstrangely jagged and precipitous peaks, and at one place, by thejunction with Basutoland, runs up to 11, 000 feet. Last Sunday I wentinto the Free State through Van Reenen's Pass, over which a littlerailway has been carried by zigzag "reverses. " The summit is 5, 500 feetabove the sea, or nearly 2, 000 feet above Ladysmith. From the steepslopes, in places almost as green as the Lowlands or Yorkshire fells, Ilooked south-east far over Natal--a parched, brown land like the desertbeyond the Dead Sea, dusty bits of plain broken up by line upon line ofbare red mountain. It seemed a poor country to make a fuss about, yet asSouth Africa goes, it is rich and even fertile in its way. Indeed, onthe reddest granite mountain one never fails to find multitudes offlowering plants and pasturage for thinnish sheep. Across the mainrange, Van Reenen's is the largest and best known pass. The old farmerwho gave it the name is living there still and bitterly laments thechance of war. But there are other passes too, any of which may suddenlybecome famous now--Olivier's Hoek, near the gigantic Mont aux Sources, Bezuidenhaut, Netherby, Tintwa, and (north of Van Reenen's) De Beer'sPass, Cundycleugh, Muller's, and Botha's, beyond which the range endswith the frontier at Majuba. Three or four of these passes are crossedby waggon roads, but Van Reenen's has the only railway. The frontier, marked by a barbed wire fence across the summit of the pass, must benearly forty miles from Ladysmith, but from the cliffs above it, thelittle British camp can be seen like a toy through this clear Africanair, and Boer sentries watch it all day, ready to signal the leastmovement of its troops, betrayed by the dust. Their own main force isdistributed in camps along the hills well beyond the nine-miles' limitordained by the Convention. The largest camp is said to be further northat Nelson's Kop, but all the camps are very well hidden, though in oneplace I saw about 500 of the horses trying to graze. The rains are late, and the grass on the high plateau of the Free State is not so good ason the Natal slopes of the pass. The Boer commandoes suffer much fromwant of it. When all your army consists of mounted infantry, foragecounts next to food. 

At present the Van Reenen Railway ends at Harrismith, an arid butcheerful little town at the foot of the great cliffs of the Plaatburg. It boasts its racecourse, golf-links, musical society, and someacquaintance with the German poets. The Scotch made it their own, thougha few Dutch, English, and other foreigners were allowed to remain onsufferance. Now unhappily the place is almost deserted, and Burnshimself would hardly find a welcome there. In the Free State everyresident may be commandeered, and I believe forty-eight hours counts as"residence. " You see the advantage of an extended franchise. The penaltyfor escape is confiscation of property, and five years' imprisonment or£500 fine, if caught. The few British who remained have had all theirhorses, carts, and supplies taken. Some are set to serve the ambulance;a few will be sent to watch Basutoland; but most of them have abandonedtheir property and risked the escape to Natal, slipping down the railwayunder bales or built up in the luggage vans like nuns in a brick wall. In one case the Boers commandeered three wool trucks on the frontier. Those trucks were shunted on to a siding for the night, and in themorning the wool looked strangely shrunk somehow. Yet it was not woolthat had been taken out and smuggled through by the next train. For Scothelps Scot, and it is Scots who work the railway. It pays to be a Scotout here. I have only met one Irishman, and he was unhappy. 

But for the grotesque side of refugee unhappiness one should see thenative train which comes down every night from Newcastle way, anddisappears towards Maritzburg and safety. Native workers of everykind--servants, labourers, miners--are throwing up their places andrushing towards the sea. The few who can speak English say, "Too plentybom-bom!" as sufficient explanation of their panic. The Government hasnow fitted the open trucks with cross-seats and side-bars for theirconvenience, and so, hardly visible in the darkness, the black crowdrolls up to the platform. Instantly black hands with pinkish palms arethrust through all the bars, as in a monkey-house. Black heads jabberand click with excitement. White teeth suddenly appear from nowhere. Itis for bread and tin-meats they clamour, and they are willing to pay. But a loaf costs a shilling. Everything costs a shilling here, unless itcosts half-a-crown; and Natal grows fat on war. A shilling for a bit ofbread! What is the good of Christianity? So the dusky hands arewithdrawn, and the poor Zulu with untutored maw goes starving on. But ifany still doubt our primitive ancestry, let them hear that Zulu'soutcries of pain, or watch the fortunate man who has really got a loaf, and gripping it with both hands, gnaws it in his corner, turning hissuspicious eyes to right and left with fear. 

The air is full of wild rumours. A boy riding over Laing's Nek saw 1, 000armed Boers feeding their horses on Manning's farm. The Boers have beenseen at a Dutch settlement this side Van Reenen's. Yesterday a sectionof the Gordons on their arrival were sent up to look at them in anarmoured train. It is thought that war will be proclaimed to-day. Thathas been thought every day for a fortnight past, and the land buzzeswith lies which may at any moment be true. 

Half the Manchesters have just marched in to trumpet and drum. When Ithink of those ragged camps of peasants just over the border the pompand circumstance seem all on one side. 

 _Friday, October 13, 1899. _

So it has begun at last, for good or evil. Here we think it beganyesterday, just at the very moment when Sir George White arrived. Lateat night scouts brought news of masses of Boers crossing the TintwaPass, and going into laager with their waggons only fifteen miles awayto the west. The men stood to their arms, and long before light we weremarching steadily forward along the Van Reenen road. First came theLiverpools, then the three batteries of Field Artillery with a mountainbattery, then the Devons and the Gordons. The Manchesters acted asrear-guard, and the Dublin Fusiliers, who were hurried down from Dundeeby train, came late, and then were hurried back again. The column tookall its stores and forage for five days in a train of waggons (horses, mules, and oxen) about two miles long. When day broke we saw the greatmountains on the Basuto border, gleaming with snow like the Alps. Far infront the cavalry--the 5th Lancers and 19th Hussars with the NatalVolunteers--were sweeping over the patches of plain and struggling upthe hills in search of that reported laager. But not a Boer of it was tobe seen. At nine o'clock, having advanced eight or nine miles, thewhole column took up a strong position, with all its baggage and trainin faultless order, and went to sleep. About one we began to return, andnow just as the mail goes, we are all back again in camp for tea. And soends the first day of active hostilities. 

[Illustration: GENERAL SIR GEORGE STEWART WHITE, V. C. , G. C. I. E. , G. C. B. , G. C. S. I. ]

CHAPTER III

THE FIRST WEEK'S WAR

 LADYSMITH, _Thursday, October 19, 1899_. 

It is a week to-day since the Boers of the Transvaal and Free Statebegan their combined invasion of Natal. So far all action has been ontheir side. They have crept down the passes with their waggons andhalf-organised bands of mounted infantry, and have now advanced within ashort day's march of the two main British positions which protect thewhole colony. It will be seen on a map that North Natal forms a fairlyregular isoceles triangle, having Charlestown, Majuba, and Laing's Nekat the apex, the Drakensberg range separating it from the Free State onthe one side, and the Buffalo River with its lower hills separating itfrom the Transvaal on the other. A base may be drawn a few miles belowLadysmith--say, from Oliver's Hoek Pass in the Drakensberg to the unionof the Tugela River with the Buffalo. Newcastle will then lie aboutthirty miles from the apex of the triangle, nearly equi-distant fromboth sides. Dundee is about twelve miles from the middle point of theright side, and Ladysmith about the same distance from the middle pointof the base. Evidently a "tight place" for a comparatively small forcewhen the frontiers to right and left are openly hostile and can pourlarge bodies of men through all the passes in the sides and apex atwill. That is exactly what the Boers have spent the week in doing, andthey have shown considerable skill in the process. They have occupiedCharlestown, Newcastle, and all the north of Natal almost to withinreach of the guns at Dundee on the west and Ladysmith on the east andcentre. Yet as far as I can judge they have hardly lost a man, whereasthey have gained an immense amount of stores, food and forage, whichwere exactly the things they wanted. "Slim Piet" is the universalnickname for old Joubert among friends and enemies alike, and so far hehas well deserved it. For the Dutch "slim" stands half way between theGerman "schlimm" and our description of young girls, and it meansexactly what the Cockney means by "artful. " Artful Piet has managedwell. He has given the Boers an appearance of triumph. Their flag waveswhere the English flag waved before. The effect on the native mind, andon the spirits of his men is greater than people in England probablythink. Before the war the young Boers said they would be in Durban in amonth, and the Kaffirs half believed it. Well, they have got nearly athird of the way in a week. 

But to-day they are brought within touch of British arms, and thequestion is whether they will get any further. So far they have beenunopposed. Their triumphs have been the bloodless capture of a passengertrain, the capture of a few police, and the driving in of patrols whohad strict orders to retire. So far we have sought only to draw them on. But here and at Dundee we must make a stand, and all yesterday and thismorning we have thought only of one question: Will they venture to comeon? They have numbers on their side--an advantage certainly of three toone, possibly more. The rough country with its rocky flat-topped linesof hill is just suited for their method of warfare--to lie behind stonesand take careful shots at any one in range. Besides, if they are to doanything, they know they must be quick. The Basutos are chanting theirwar-song on the Free State frontier. The British reinforcements arecoming, and all irregulars have a tendency to melt away if you keep themwaiting. But on the other hand it is against Boer tradition to attack, especially entrenched positions. Their artillery is probably farinferior to ours in training and skill, and they don't like artillery inany case. Nor do they like the thought of Lancers and Hussars sweepingdown upon their flanks wherever a little bit of plain has to be crossed. So the chances of attack seem about equally balanced, and only the dayscan answer that one question of ours: Will they come on?

Yesterday it seemed as though they were coming. The advance of two maincolumns from the passes in the north-west had been fairly steady; andlast night our outposts of the Natal Carbineers were engaged, as the 5thLancers had been the night before. Heavy firing was reported at anydistance short of fifteen miles. There was no panic. The few ladies whoremain went riding or cycling along the dusty, blazing road which makesthe town. The Zulu women in blankets and beads walked in single filewith the little black heads of babies peering out between theirshoulder-blades, and roasting in the sun. Huge waggon-loads ofstores--compressed forage, compressed beef, jam, water-proof sheets, ammunition, oil, blankets, sardines, and all the other necessaries of asoldier's existence--came lumbering up from the station behind the longfiles of oxen urged slowly forward by savage outcries and lashes ofhide. Orderlies were galloping in the joy of their hearts. The band ofthe Gloucesters were practising scales in unison to slow time. Suddenlya kind of feeling came into the air that something was happening. Inoticed the waggon stopped; the oxen at once lay down in the dust; themusic ceased and was packed away. I met the Gordons coming into town andasking for their ground. Riding up the mile or two to camp, I found thewhole dusty plateau astir. Tents were melting away like snow. Kits layall naked and revealed upon the earth. The men were falling in. Thewaggons were going the wrong way round. The very headquarters and staffwere being cleared out. The whole camp was, in fact, in motion. It wascoming down into the town. In a few hours the familiar place was bareand deserted. I went up this morning and stood on Signal Hill where theheliograph was working yesterday, just above the camp. The whole plainwas a wilderness. Straw and paper possessed it merely, except that hereand there a destitute Kaffir groped among the _débris_ in hopes offinding a shiny tin pot for his furniture or some rag of old uniform toharmonise with his savage dress. In one corner of the empty iron huts afew of the cavalry were still trying to carry off some remnants offorage. It was a pitiful sight, and yet the rapidity of the change wasimpressive. If the Boers came in, they would find those tin huts veryluxurious after their accustomed bivouacs. Is it possible that tin hutsmight be their Capua?

The camp was thought incapable of defence. Artillery could command itfrom half a dozen hills. Whoever placed it there was neither strategistnor humanitarian. It is like the bottom of a frying-pan with a low rim. The fire is hot, and sand is frying. But, indeed, the whole of Ladysmithis like that. The flat-topped hills stand round it reflecting the heat, and in the middle we are now all frying together, with sand forseasoning. The main ambulance is on the cricket ground. The battaliontents are pitched among the rocks or by the river side, where Kaffirsbathe more often and completely than you would otherwise suppose. Theriver water, by the way, is a muddy yellow now and leaves a deep depositof Afric's golden sand in your glass or basin. The headquarters staffhas seized upon two empty houses, and can dine in peace. The street isone yelling chaos of oxen in waggons and oxen loose, galloping horses, sheep, ammunition mules, savages, cycles, and the British soldier. He, be sure, preserves his wonted calm, adapts himself to oxen as naturallyas to camels, puts in a little football when he can, practisesalliteration's artful aid upon the name of the Boers, and trusts to hisorders to pull him through. His orders are likely to be all right now, for Colonel Ward has just been put in command of the whole town, andalready I notice a method in the oxen, to say nothing of the mules. Whatis it all but a huge military tournament to be pulled together, and gotup to time?

This morning most people expected the attack would begin. I rode fivemiles out before breakfast to see what might be seen, but there wereonly a few Lancers pricking about by threes, and never a Boer or anysuch thing. So we have waited all day, and nothing has happened tillthis afternoon the rumour comes with authority that a train has beencaptured at Elands Laagte, about sixteen miles on the way to Dundee. Therailway stopped running trains beyond there yesterday, and had betterhave stopped altogether. Anyhow, the line of communication between usand the splendid little brigade at Dundee is broken now. Dundee ispretty nearly fifty miles N. N. E. Of this. The camp is happily on astronger position than ours, and not mixed up with the town. But atpresent it is practically besieged, and no one can say how long thesiege of Ladysmith also will be delayed. For the moment, it seems justpossible that the great force, which we vaguely hear is coming out fromEngland (all English news is hopelessly vague), will have to send thebulk of its troops to fight up Natal for our relief. But the south ofNatal having few rocks is not suited for Boer warfare. When the Boersboasted they were coming to Durban, a wit replied: "Then you will haveto bring the stones with you. " For a Boer much prefers to have acomforting stone in front of him in the day of battle. In thesedistricts every hill is for him a natural fortress. His hope is that weshall venture into the mountains; ours that he will venture down to theplains. So far hope's flattery has kept us fairly well apart. The dayafter to-morrow is now fixed by popular judgment for battle and attack. But only one thing is certain: we can stand still if we choose, and theBoers cannot. 

To be under martial law, as we now are, does not make much difference tothe ordinary man, but to the ordinary criminal it appears slightlyadvantageous. For his case is very likely to be overlooked in the pressof military offences, and it is doubtful if any civil suits can bebrought. At all events, a legal quarrel I had with a farmer about somehorses has vanished into thin air; and so, indeed, have the horses. Theworst offenders now are possible spies. A few Dutch have been arrested, but the commonest cases are out-of-work Kaffirs, who are wandering inswarms over the country, coming down from Johannesburg and thecollieries, and naturally finding it rather hard to give account ofthemselves. The peculiarity of the trials which I have attended has beenthat if a Kaffir could give the name of his father it was taken as asufficient guarantee of respectability With one miserable Bushman, forinstance--a child's caricature of man--it was really going hard till atlast he managed to explain that his father's name was Nicodemus Africa, and then every one looked satisfied, and he left the court without astain upon his character. 

So we live from day to day. The air is full of rumours. One can see themgrow along the street. One traces them down. Perhaps one finds an atomof truth somewhere at the root of them. One puts that atom into atelegram. The military censor cuts it out with unfailing politeness, anda good day's work is done. Heat, dust, and a weekly deluge withstupendous thunder complete the scene. 

CHAPTER IV

BATTLE OF ELANDS LAAGTE

 LADYSMITH, _October 22, 1899_. 

It was a fair morning yesterday, cool after rain, the thin cloudssometimes letting the sun look through. At half-past ten I was some sixor seven miles out along the Newcastle road--a road in these parts beingmerely a worn track over the open veldt, distinguishable only by theruts and mud. Close on the left were high and shapely hills, like Welshmountains, but on the right the country was more open. A Mr. Malcolm'sfarm stood in the middle of a waving plain, with a few fields, aloehedges, and poplars. The kraal of his Kaffir labourers was near it, andabout a mile away the plain ended in a low ridge of rocky "kopjes, "which ran to join the mountainous ground on the left at a kind of "nek"or low pass over which the railway runs. Beyond that low ridge layElands Laagte, an important railway station with a few collieries closeby, a store, a hotel, and some houses. 

The Boers had occupied it two days before, had captured a train there, and torn up the rail in two places, making a number of prisoners andseizing 100 head of cattle and quantities of other private stores andthe luggage going to Dundee. Early in the morning we had gone out withfour companies of the Manchesters in an armoured train with an ordinarytrain behind it, a battery of Natal Field Artillery, and the ImperialLight Horse under Colonel Scott Chisholme, to reconnoitre with a view torepairing the line. They seized the station and released a number ofprisoners, but were compelled to withdraw by three heavy Nordenfeldtguns, which the Boers had posted on a hill about 2, 500 yards beyond thestation. At half-past ten they had reached the point I describe, andwere very slowly coming back towards Ladysmith, the trains movingbackwards, and the cavalry walking on each side the line. The point iscalled Modder's Spruit, from some early Dutchman, and there is a littlestation there, the first out from Ladysmith town. At that momentanother train was seen coming up with the 1st Devons, and within an houra fourth arrived with five companies of the Gordons. The 42nd FieldBattery then came, and the 21st later; the 5th Lancers with a few 5thDragoon Guards, and a large contingent of Natal mounted volunteers. Thatwas our force. It took up a strong and fairly concealed position behinda rise in the road to the left of the railway and waited. Meantime theBoer scouts crept along that rocky ridge on our right front and downinto the plain, firing into us at long range, quite without effect. 

At half-past one General French, who had taken command, sent out a fewLancers to watch our left, and a large force of mixed cavalry to theright. By a long circuit these swept up the whole length of the ridgeand cleared out the Boer sharpshooters, who could be seen galloping awayover the top. The infantry then detrained and advanced across the plainand up the ridge in extended order, half a battery meantime driving outa small Boer party, which was firing upon our Lancers on our left. 

[Illustration: PLAN OF THE BATTLE OF ELANDS LAAGTE]

When we reached the top of that long ridge, we found it broad as well aslong, and we were moving rapidly across it when, with the usual whirrand crash and scream, one of the enemy's big shells fell in the midst ofour right centre, killing two horses at a gun. It was at once followedby another, and a dozen or two more. They had our range exactly, and theart of knowing what was going on behind the hill, but though the shellsburst all right and hot fragments or bullets went shrieking through themidst of us, I did not see anything but horses actually struck. I thinksix or seven horses were killed at that place, and later on I heard of abugler having his head cut off, and two or three others killed by shell, but otherwise I believe the artillery did us no damage, though to mostmen it is more terrifying than rifle fire. When we reached the edge ofthe ridge we looked across a broad low valley, with one small wave init, to the enemy's main position on some rocky hills nearly 4, 000 yardsaway. The place was very strong and well chosen. 

Opposite our right ran a long high ridge covered with rocks and leadingup to a rocky plateau. In their centre was a pointed hill, at the footof which stood their camp, with tents and waggons. Opposite our left wasa small detached kopje, and beyond that a fairly flat plain, with ariver running through it, and the railway beyond Elands Laagte Station. Their three guns stood on the rocky ridge to our right of theircamp--two together half-way down, one a little higher up. Flash--flash--they went, and then came the whirr, the crash, and thescreaming fragments. 

Suddenly our guns opened in answer from our right centre, and we couldwatch the shrapnel bursting right over their gunners' heads. They saythe gunners were German. At all events, they were brave fellows, andworked the guns with extraordinary skill and courage. The officialaccount admits that they returned several times to their posts afterbeing driven out by our shell. The afternoon was passing, and if we wereto take the place before dark we could not spare time to shake it withour artillery much longer. At about half-past four the infantry wereordered to advance, the Gordons and Manchesters on the right, the Devonson the left. They went down the long slope and across the valley withperfect intervals and line, much better than they go in the hollows ofthe old Fox Hills. 

In the advance the Gordons and Manchesters gradually changed directionhalf right and crept up towards that plateau on the right of the ridge, so as to take the enemy in flank. The Devons went straight forward, coming into infantry fire as they crossed that low wave of ground in themiddle of the valley. On the further slope they were ordered to lie downand wait till the flanking movement was developed. Happily the slope, asis usual in South Africa, was thickly spotted over with great ant-hills, beneath which the ant-eater digs his den. Ant-heaps, hardened almost tobrick, make excellent cover, and we lay down behind them on any bit ofrock we could find, the fire being very hot, and the Mauser bulletsmaking their unpleasant whiffle as they passed. I think the first manhit was a private, who got a ball through his head by the ear. He wascarried away, but died before he got off the field. A young officer wasstruck soon afterwards, and then the bearers began to be busy. Therewere far too few of them, and no one could find the ambulance carts. Asa matter of fact they had not left Ladysmith--twelve miles at leastaway. Most of the wounded tried to creep back out of fire. Some layquite still. I heard only two or three call out for help. Meantime therest were keeping up a steady fire, not by volleys, but as each couldsight a Boer among the rocks, and my own belief is that very few Boerswere hit that way. 

Climbing up a heap of loose stones a little to the right of the Devons, I could now see the Boers at the top of their position in the centre, moving about rapidly, taking cover, resting their rifles on the stones, and firing both at us and at the men who were pushing up the slopethreatening their flank. Meantime the artillery pumped iron and leadupon them without mercy. Their own guns were quite silenced about thistime, being unable to stand the combined shell and rifle fire. But theordinary Boers--the armed and mounted peasants--still clung to theirrocks as though nothing could drive them out. 

One big man in black I watched for what seemed a very long time. He wasstanding right against the sky line, sometimes waving his arm, apparently to give directions. Shells burst over his head, and bulletsmust have been thick round him. Once or twice he fell, as thoughslipping on the rocks, for the rain had begun again. But he alwaysreappeared, till at last shrapnel exploded right in his face, and hesank together like a dropped rag. Just after that the Manchesters andGordons began to force their way along the top of the ridge on theBoers' left. They had the dismounted Imperial Light Horse with them, andit was there that the loss was most terrible. Sometimes the advancehardly seemed to move, sometimes it rushed forward, and then appeared toswing back again. It was six o'clock, rain was falling in torrents, andit was getting dark. Perhaps the Gordons suffered most. Fourteenofficers were killed and wounded there, and next day the killed men laythick among the rocks. The Boer prisoners say the Gordon kilts made themeasy marks. But the Light Horse lost, too--lost their Colonel, ScottChisholme, who had been so eager for their success. Still the Boers keptup their terrible fire, and the attack crept forward, rock by rock. Atthe same time the Devons were called on to advance, and, getting up fromthe ant-hills without a moment's pause, they strode forward to the footof the hill, keeping up an incessant fire as they went. Then we heardthe bugler sounding the charge high up on our right, and we could justsee the flank attack rushing forward and cheering. The Boers weregalloping away or running from the top. The Devons also sounded thecharge and rushed up the front of the position, but from that isolatedhill on our left they met so obstinate a fire that the order formagazine firing was given, and for a few minutes the rifles rattledwithout a second's pause, in a long roar of fire. Then, with a wildcheer, the Devons cleared the position. It is due to them to say thatthey were first at the guns. Meantime, the "Cease Fire!" had soundedseveral times on the summit, but the firing did not cease. I don't knowwhy it was. Perhaps the Boers were still resisting in parts. Certainlymany of our men were drunk with excitement. "Wipe out Majuba!" was aconstant cry. But the Boers had gone. 

The remnants of them were struggling to get away in the twilight over abit of rocky plain on our left. There the Dragoon Guards got them, andthree times went through. A Dragoon Guards corporal who was there tellsme the Boers fell off their horses and rolled among the rocks, hidingtheir heads in their arms and calling for mercy--calling to be shot, anything to escape the stab of those terrible lances. But not manyescaped. "We just gave them a good dig as they lay, " were the corporal'swords. Next day most of the lances were bloody. 

The victory was ours. We had gained a stony and muddy little hillstrewn with the bodies of dead and wounded peasants, clerks, lawyers, and other kinds of men. Most were from Johannesburg. Nearly all spokeEnglish like their native language. In one corner on the slope of thehill towards their little camp and waggons I counted fourteen deadtogether. In one of the tents were three dead men, all killed by thesame shell, apparently whilst asleep. Yet I do not think there were morethan thirty actually killed among the rocks in all. It is true thatdarkness fell rapidly, and the rain was blinding; but I was nearly twohours on the ground moving about. The wounded lay very thick, groaningand appealing for help. In coming down I nearly trod on the upturnedwhite face of an old white-bearded man. He was lying quite silent, witha kind of dignity. We asked who he was. He said: "I am Kock, the fatherof Judge Kock. No, I am not the commandant. _He_ is the commandant. " Butthe old man was wrong. He himself had been in command, though instead offighting he had read the Bible and prayed. One bullet had passed throughhis shoulder, another through his groin. So he lay still and read nomore. Near him was a boy with a hand just a mixture of shreds and bonesand blood. But he too was very quiet, and only asked for a handkerchiefto bind it together. Others were gradually dying. Many were not foundtill daylight. The dead of both sides lay unburied till Monday. 

In the mud and stones just above the captured guns, General French stoodgiving directions for the bivouac, and dictating a message to Sir GeorgeWhite praising the troops, especially the infantry who had beencommanded by Colonel Ian Hamilton. The assemble kept sounding over thehill, and Gordons tried to sift themselves from Manchesters, and LightHorse from Devons. All were shouting and questioning and calling to eachother in the dark. Soon they settled down; the Boers had left scores ofsaddles, coats, and Kaffir blankets, provisions, too, water-bottles, chickens, and in one case a flask of carbolic disinfectant, which aBritish soldier analysed as "furrin wine. " So, on the whole, the fellowsmade themselves fairly comfortable in spite of the cold and wet. Then Ifelt my way down over the rocks, taking care, if possible, not to treadon anything human, and then sought out the difficult twelve-mile trackto Ladysmith over the veldt and hills, lighted towards midnight by awaning and clouded moon. 

CHAPTER V

BATTLE OF TINTA INYONI

 LADYSMITH, _October 27, 1899_. 

If you want to "experience a shock, " as the doctors say, be with thehead of a column advancing leisurely along a familiar road only sixmiles from camp, and have a shell flung almost at your feet from aneighbouring mountain top. That was my fortune about the breakfast timeof peaceable citizens last Tuesday morning. A squadron of Lancers andsome of the Natal Carbineers were in front. Just behind me a battery wasrumbling along. A little knot of the staff was close by, and we were alljust preparing to halt. We stood on the Newcastle road, north of thetown, not far from our first position at the Elands Laagte battle of theSaturday before. The road is close to the railway there, and I waswatching an engine and truck going down with a white-flag flying, bringing back poor Colonel Chisholme's body for burial. Suddenly on theleft from the top of a mountain side beyond a long rocky ridge I saw theorange flash of a big gun. The next moment came the familiar buzz andscream of a great shell, the crash, the squealing fragments, the dustsplashing up all round us as they fell. I have never seen men and horsesgallop faster than in our rapid right-wheel over the open ground towardsa Kaffir kraal. I think only one horse was badly hurt, but at nomilitary tournament have I seen artillery move in such excellent style. It was all over in a minute. The Boers must have measured the range to ayard, and just have kept that gun loaded and waiting. 

But in tactics jokes may be mistakes. That shot revealed the enemy'sposition. Within ten minutes our gunners had snipt the barbed wirefences along the railway, had dashed their guns across, and weredragging them up that low rocky ridge--say, 300ft. To 400ft. High--whichhad now so suddenly become our front and fighting position. Three fieldbatteries went up, and close behind them came the Gloucesters on theright, a few companies of the second 60th (K. R. R. ) the Liverpools andthe Devons in order on the centre and left. On our right we had some ofthe 19th Hussars and 5th Lancers; on our left a large mixed force of themounted Natal Volunteers, who were soon strongly engaged in a smallvalley at the end of the ridge, and suffered a good deal all day. Butthe chief work and credit lay with our guns. Till they got intoposition, found the range and began to fire, the enemy's shells keptdropping over the ridge and plumping into the ground. None were sosuccessful as the first, and only few of them burst, but shells are veryunpleasant, and it was a relief when at the second or third shot fromour batteries we found the enemy's shells had ceased to arrive. We haddestroyed the limber, if not the gun, and after that the shells were allon one side. Some say the Boers had two guns, but I only saw one myself, and I watched it as a mouse watches a cat. One does. 

The Boers, however, had many cats to watch. Climbing up the ridgetowards its left end, I sat among the rocks with the Liverpools andDevons beside one of the batteries, and got a good view of the Boerposition. They were in irregular lines and patches among the rocks ofsome low hills across a little valley in our front, and were stationedin groups upon the two higher mountains (as one may call them) upon ourright and left. Both of these points looked down upon our position, andit was only by keeping close among the stones under the edge of ourridge that we got any cover, and that indifferent. But, happily, therange was long, and for hour after hour those two hills were simplyswept by our shrapnel. On our right the long mountain edge, where theenemy's gun had been, is called Mattowan's Hoek. The great dome-likehill (really the end of a flat-topped mountain in perspective), on ourleft, was Tinta Inyoni. 

Our infantry lay along the ridge, keeping up a pretty constant fire, andsometimes volleying by sections, whenever they could get sight of theiralmost invisible enemy. Sometimes they advanced a little way downtowards the valley. On the right the Gloucesters about eleven o'clockcame over the ridge on to a flat little piece of grass land in front. Isuppose they expected to get a better range or clearer view, but withina few minutes that patch of grass was spotted with lumps of khaki. Twoofficers--one their colonel--and six men were killed outright, and theofficial list of wounded runs to over fifty. When they had withdrawnagain to the ridge the doctors and privates went out to bring thewounded back. Behind the cover of the rocks the dhoolies were waitingwith their green-covered stretchers. In the sheltered corner on the flatground below stood the ambulance waggons ready. All the ambulanceservice was admirably worked that day, but I think perhaps the highestcredit remains with the mild Hindoos. 

By twelve o'clock the low hills in our front were burning from ourshells, and the smoke of the grass helped still more to conceal thisbaffling enemy of ours. It was all very well for the gunners, with theirexcellent glasses, but the ordinary private could hardly see anything toaim at, and yet he was more or less under fire all the time. As tosmoke, of course the smokeless powder gives the Boers an immenseadvantage in their method of fighting. It is hardly ever possible totell exactly where the shots come from. But I noticed one man near thetop of Tinta, who evidently had an old Martini which he valued much morethan new-fangled things. Whenever he fired a little puff of grey smokefollowed, and I always thought I heard the growl of his bulletparticularly close, as though he steadily aimed at some officer nearby. He sat under a bush, and had built himself a little wall of rocks infront. Shell after shell was showered upon that rocky hillside, for itconcealed many other sharpshooters besides. But at each flash he musthave thrown himself behind the stones, and when the shower of lead wasover up he got, and again I saw the little puff of grey smoke and heardthe growl of a bullet close by. 

The firing ceased about three. There was no apparent reason why itshould. The Boers had killed a few of us. Probably we had killed more ofthem. But mere loss of life does not make victory or defeat, and to allappearance we were both on much the same ground as at first, except thatthe Boers had lost a gun, and were not at all comfortable on thepositions they had held. Our withdrawal, however, was due to deeperreasons. A messenger had brought news of the column which had unhappilybeen driven from Dundee--whether by the Boers' 40-pounder, "Long Tom, "or by failing ammunition I will not try to decide. Anyhow, the messengerbrought the news that the column was safe and returning unmolested onLadysmith by the roundabout road eastward, near Helpmakaar. We had heldback the enemy from intercepting them on their march. Our long andharassing fight, then, had been worth the sacrifice. It was a victory instrategy. Sir George White gave the order for the infantry to withdrawfrom the ridge by battalions and return to Ladysmith. By evening we wereall in the town again. 

Next day I determined to meet the Dundee force on its way. They werereported to have halted about twenty-five miles off the night before, near Sunday's river, which, like all the rivers and spruits just here, runs southward through mountains into the Tugela and Buffalo. About sixmiles out we had a small force ready to give them assistance if theywere pursued. Passing through that column halted by a stream, I went oninto more open country, where there was an occasional farm with theinvariable tin roof and weeping willows of South Africa. For many milesI saw small parties of our Lancers and Carbineers scouring the countryon both sides of the track. 

Then soon after I had crossed a wide watershed I came down into brokenand rocky country again, well suited for Boers, and there the outpostsended. I had a wide view of distant mountains, far away to the Zuluborder on the east, and northwards to the Biggarsberg and Dundee, aterrible country to cross with a retiring column, harassed by threedays' fighting. The few white farmers had gone, of course, but, happily, I came upon a Kaffir kraal, and a Kaffir chief himself came out to lookat me. The Cape boy who was with me asked if he had seen any Englishtroops that way. "Yes, there were many, many, many, hardly an hour'sride further on. But he was hungry, hungry--he, the chief--and so werehis wives--four of them--all of them. " He spoke the pretty Zululanguage--it is something like Italian. 

We went on. The track went steep down hill to a spruit where the waterlay in pools. And there on the opposite hill was that gallant littleBritish Army, halted in a position of extreme danger, absolutelycommanded on all sides but one, and preparing for tea as unconcernedlyas if they were in a Lockhart's shop in Goswell Road. Almost asunconcernedly--for, indeed, some of the officers showed signs of theirlong anxiety and sleeplessness. When I came among them, some mounted mensuddenly showed themselves in the distance. They took them for Boers. Icould hardly persuade them they were only our own Carbineers--theoutposts through whom I had just ridden. Three of our own scoutsappeared across a valley, and never were Boers in greater peril ofbeing shot. I think I may put their lives down to my credit. 

The British private was even here imperturbable as usual. He sat on therocks singing the latest he knew from the music-halls. He lighted hisfires and made his tea, and took an intelligent interest in theslaughter of the oxen, for all the world as if he were at manoeuvres onSalisbury Plain. He is really a wonderful person. Filthy from head tofoot, drenched with rain, baked with sun, unshorn and unwashed for fivedays, his eyes bloodshot for want of sleep, hungry and footsore, freshfrom terrible fighting, and the loss of many friends, he was still thesame unmistakable British soldier, that queer mixture of humour andblasphemy, cheerfulness and grumbling, never losing thatimperturbability which has no mixture of any other quality at all. Thecamping ground was arranged almost as though they were going to staythere for ever. Here were the guns in order, there the relics of the18th Hussars; there the Leicesters, the 60th, the Dublins, the RoyalIrish Fusiliers, and the rest. The guards were set and sentries posted. But only two hours later the whole moved off again for three miles'further advance to get them well out of the mountains. Why, on thatperilous march through unknown and difficult country, the Dutch did notspring upon them in some pass and blot them out is one of the manymysteries of this strange campaign. 

Among them I greeted many friends whom I had come to know at Dundee tendays before. But General Symons and Colonel Gunning, whom I had chosenout as the models of what officers should be, were not there. Nor wasthe young officer who had been my host--young Hannah of theLeicesters--who at his own cost came out in the ship with us rather than"miss the fun. " A shell struck his head. I think he was the first killedin Friday's battle. 

I got back to Ladysmith late that night. Early next morning the columnbegan to dribble in. They were received with relief. I cannot say therewas much enthusiasm. The road by which I went to meet them is nowswarming with Boers. 

CHAPTER VI

THE REVERSE AT NICHOLSON'S NEK

 LADYSMITH, _October 31, 1899_. 

On Sunday we were all astir for a big battle. But no village Sabbath inthe Highlands could have been quieter, though it might have been moredevotional. We rode about as usual, though our rides are very limitednow, and the horse that took me forty miles last Wednesday is piningbecause the Boers have cut off his exercise. We sweated and swore, andsuffered unfathomable thirst, but still there was no more battle thanthe evening hymn. Next day we knew it would be different. At night Iheard the guns go out eastward along the Helpmakaar road to take up aposition on our right. At three I was up in the morning darkness, andriding slowly northward with the brigade that was to form our centre, up the familiar Newcastle road. We had not far to go. The Boers save usa lot of exertion. A mile and a half--certainly less than twomiles--from the outside of the town was our limit. But as we went theline of yellow behind our two nearest mountains, Lombard's Kop andBulwan (Mbulwani, Isamabulwan--you may spell it almost as you like), wassuddenly shot with red, and the grey night clouds showed crimson on alltheir hanging edges. The crimson caught the vultures soaring widethrough the air, and then the sun himself came up with that blaze ofheat which was to torture us all day long. 

The central rendezvous beside the Newcastle road was well protected by ahigh rocky hill, which one can only call a kopje now. There were the 5thDragoon Guards, the Manchesters, the Devons, the Gordons, with theirambulance and baggage, some of the Natal Volunteers, and when the trainfrom Maritzburg arrived about six the Rifle Brigade marched straight outof it to join us. I climbed the kopje in front of them, and from therecould get a fine view of the whole position except the extreme flanks. 

At 5. 10 the first gun sounded from a battery on the right of ourcentre--a battery that was to do magnificent work through the day. Theenemy's reply was an enormous puff of smoke from a flat-topped hillstraight in front of me. A huge shell shrieked through the air, and, passing high above my head, burst slap in the middle of the town behindme. Again and again it came. The second shot fell close to the centralhospital; the third in a private garden, where the native servants havebeen busy digging for fragments ever since, as in a gold mine, notconsidering how cheap such treasure is now likely to become. The rangewas something over four miles. One of the shells passed so near theballoon that the officer in the car felt it like a gust of wind. (Iought to have told you about that balloon, by the way. We sent it upfirst on Sunday morning, our Zulu savages opening their mouths at it, beating their lips, and patting their stomachs with peculiar cries. )

"Long Tom" had come. "Long Tom, " the hero of Dundee, able to hurl hisvast iron cylinder a clean six miles as often as you will. I saw him andhis brother gun on trucks at Sand River Camp on the Transvaal borderjust before the war began. They say he is French--a Creusotgun--throwing, some say 40lbs. , some 95lbs. , each shot. Anyhow, theshell is quite big enough, whatever its weight, and it bangs intoshops, chapels, ladies' bedrooms without any nice distinctions. I couldsee "Tom's" ugly muzzle tilted up above a great earthwork which theBoers had heaped near a tree on the edge of that flat-topped hill, whichwe may call Pepworth, from a little farm hard by. 

Our battery was at once turned on to him, and though short at first, itgot the range, and poured the deadly shrapnel over that hill for hourafter hour. But other guns were there--perhaps as many as six--and theyreplied to our battery, whilst "Tom" reserved his attention for thetown. Often we thought him silenced, but always he began again, justwhen we were forgetting him, sometimes after over an hour's pause. TheBoer gunners, whoever they may be, are not wanting in courage. So theartillery battle went on, hour after hour. I sat on the rocks andwatched. At my side the Gordons on picket duty were playing with twolittle white kids. On the plain in front no one was to be seen but onelone and dirty soldier, who was steadily marching in across it, no oneknew from where. He must have lost his way in the night, and now wasmaking for the nearest British lines, hanging his rifle unconcernedlyover his shoulder, butt behind. 

So we watched and waited. At one moment Dr. Jameson came up to get alook at his old enemy. Then we heard heavy rifle fire far away on ourleft, where the Gloucesters and Royal Irish Fusiliers had been sent outthe night before, and were now on the verge of that terrible disasterwhich has kept us all anxious and uncertain to-day. The rumour goes thatboth battalions have disappeared, and what survives of them will next befound in Pretoria. At eight o'clock I saw a new force of Boers comingdown a gully in a great mountain behind Pepworth Hill. But for my glass, I should have taken them for a black stream marked with white rocks. Butthey were horses and men, and the white rocks were horses too. Heavyfiring began far away on our right. At nine the Manchesters were calledoff to reinforce. At half-past nine the Gordons followed, and I wentwith them. About a mile and a half from the centre we were halted againon the top of another rocky kopje covered with low bush and trees, outof which we frightened several little brown deer and some strange birds. 

From the top I could see the whole position of the right flank fairlywell, but it puzzled me at first. The guns shelling PepworthHill--there were two batteries of them now--were still at their work, just in front of our left now and about half a mile away. Away to ourright and further advanced, but quite exposed in the open, were twoother batteries, shelling some distant kopjes on our right at the footof the great mountain lump of Lombard's Kop. I heard afterwards theywere shelling an empty and deserted kopje for hours, but I know thatonly from hearsay. Between the batteries and far away to the right theinfantry was lying down or advancing in line, chiefly across the open, against the enemy's position. But what was that position? Take Ladysmithas centre and a radius of five miles, the Boers' position extended rounda semicircle or more, from Lombard's Kop on the east to Walker's Hoek onthe west, with Pepworth Hill as the centre of the arc on the north. Ibelieve myself that the position was not a mile less than fifteen mileslong, and for the most part it was just what Boers like--rocky kopjesand ridges, high and low, always giving cover and opportunity forsurprise and ambuscade. 

[Illustration: LOMBARD'S KOP]

It was against the left flank of that position that our right was nowhurling itself. The idea, I suppose, was to roll their left back upontheir centre and take Pepworth Hill and "Long Tom" in the confusionof retreat. That may or may not have been the General's plan, but frommy post with the Gordons I soon saw something was happening to preventit. On a flat piece of green in front of the rocky kopjes, where theenemy evidently was, I could see men, not running, but walking about indifferent directions. They were not crowded, but they seemed to bemoving about like black ants, only in a purposeless kind of way. "Theyare Boers, and we've got them between our men and our battery, " said aGordon officer. But I knew his hope was a vain one. Very slowly theywere coming towards us--turning and firing and advancing a little, oneby one--but still coming towards us, till at last they began to dribblethrough the intervals in our batteries. Then we knew it was Britishinfantry retiring--a terrible sight, no matter how small the loss or howwise the order given. Chiefly they were the 60th (K. R. R. ) and theLeicesters. I believe the Dublins were there too. Behind them the enemykept up the incessant crackle of their rifles. 

They came back slowly, tired and disheartened and sick with uselesslosses, but entirely refusing to hurry or crowd. With bullet and shellthe enemy followed them hard. Our batteries did what they could toprotect them, and Colonel Coxhead, in command of the guns, received theGeneral's praise afterwards. The Natal Volunteers and Gordons, and atleast part of the Manchesters were there to cover the retreat, butnothing could restore the position again. Battalions and ranks had gothopelessly mingled, and as soon as they were out of range the menwandered away in groups to the town, sick and angry, but longing aboveall things for water and sleep. The enemy's shells followed hard ontheir trail nearly into the town, plumping down in the midst wheneverany body of men or horses showed themselves among the ridges of thekopjes. Seeing what was happening on the right the centre began towithdraw as well, and as their baggage train climbed back into the townup the Newcastle road a shell from "Long Tom" fell among them at acorner of the hill, blowing a poor ambulance and stretcher to pieces, and killing one of the Naval Brigade just arrived from the _Powerful_. 

It was the Naval Brigade that saved the day, though, to be sure, aretirement like that is in itself a check, though no disaster. CaptainLambton had placed two of his Elswick wire guns on the road to the town, and sent shot after shot straight upon "Long Tom's" position four milesaway. Only twelve-pounders, I believe, they were, but of fine range andprecision, and at each successful shot the populace and Zulus standingon the rocks clapped their hands and laughed as at a music-hall. For atime, but only for a time, "Long Tom" held his tongue, and gradually thenoise of battle ceased--the bang and squeal of the shells, the crackleof the rifle, the terrifying hammer-hammer of the enemy's two Kruppautomatic guns. It was about half-past two and blazing hot. The rest ofthe day was quiet, but for rumours of the lamentable disaster of whichone can hardly speak at present. The Gloucesters and Royal Irishprisoners--1, 100 at least after all losses! They say two Boers werebrought in blindfold last night to tell the General. This morning anambulance party has gone out to bring in the wounded, and whilst theyare gone with their flag of truce we have peace. 

I take the opportunity to write, hurriedly and without correction, forthe opportunity is short. "Long Tom" sent two shells into us thismorning as we were dressing (I should have said washing, only the watersupply is cut), and at any moment he may begin again. 

 _November 1, 1899. _

I may add that the retirement of the battalions of the 60th, with theLeicesters, is the theme of every one's praise to-day. Its success waschiefly due to General Hunter, and the dogged courage of the menthemselves. 

But the second part of the despatch is after all the main point ofinterest. Such a disaster has, I suppose, seldom befallen two famous anddistinguished battalions. After heavy loss they are prisoners. They arewiped out from the war. The Gloucesters and the Royal IrishFusiliers--they join the squadron of the 18th Hussars in Pretoria gaols. Two Boers came in blindfolded to tell the news last night. All day longwe have been fetching in the wounded. Their wounds are chiefly fromMartini rifles, and very serious. I know the place of the disaster well, having often ridden there when the Boers were at a more respectfuldistance. It is an entangled and puzzling country, full of rocks andhills and hidden valleys. It was only some falling boulders that causedthe ruin--a few casual shots--and the stampeding mules. That ammunitionmule has always a good deal to bear, but now the burden put on himofficially is almost too heavy for any four-legged thing. 

CHAPTER VII

HEMMED IN

 LADYSMITH, _November 2, 1899_. 

"Long Tom" opened fire at a quarter-past six from Pepworth Hill, and wasreplied to by the Naval Brigade. Just as I walked up to their big 4. 7in. Gun on the kopje close to the Newcastle road, a shell came rightthrough our battery's earthwork, without bursting. Lieutenant Egerton, R. N. , was lying close under the barrel of our gun, and both his legswere shattered. The doctors amputated one at the thigh, the other at theshin. In the afternoon he was sitting up, drinking champagne and smokingcigarettes as cheery as possible, but he died in the night. "Tom" wenton more or less all day. In the afternoon Natal correspondents dasheddown to the Censor with telegrams that he had been put out of action. They had seen him lying on his side. I started to look for myself, andat the first 100 yards he threw a shell right into the off-side of thestreet, as though to save me the trouble of going further. Anotherrumour, quite as confidently believed by the soldiers, was that theDevons had captured him with the bayonet and rolled him down the hill. Iheard one of them "chipping" a Gordon for not being present at theexploit. Now "Tom" is a 15-centimetre Creusot gun of superior quality. 

All morning I spent in the Manchesters' camp on the top of the long hillto the south-west, called Cęsar's Camp. There had been firing from ahigher flat-topped mountain--Middle Hill--about 3, 000 yards beyond, where the Boers have taken up one of their usual fine positions, overlooking Ladysmith on one side and Colenso on the other. At earlymorning a small column under General Hunter had attacked a Boer commandoon the Colenso road unawares and gave them a bad time, till an ordersuddenly came to withdraw. Sir George White had heard Boer guns to thewest of their right rear, and was afraid of another disaster such asbefell the Gloucesters and Royal Irish Fusiliers. The men came back sickwith disappointment, and more shaken than by defeat. 

I found the Manchesters building small and almost circular sangars ofstones and sandbags at intervals all along the ridge. The work was goinglistlessly, the men carrying up the smallest and easiest stones theycould find, and spending most of the time in contemplating the sceneryor discussing the situation, which they did not think hopeful. "We'resurrounded--that's what we are, " they kept saying. "Thought we was goin'to have Christmas puddin' in Pretoria. Not much Christmas puddin' we'llever smell again!" A small mounted party rode past them, and the enemyinstantly threw a shell over our heads from the front. Then the gunsjust set up on the long mountain of Bulwan, threw another plump into therocks by the largest picket. "It's like that Bally Klarver, " sighed aprivate, getting up and looking round with apprehension. "Cannon toright of 'em, cannon to left of 'em!" Then we went on building at thesangar, but without much spirit. They laughed when I told them how ashell from "Long Tom" fell into the Crown Hotel garden this morning, andall the black servants rushed out to pocket the fragments. But the onlything which really cheered them was the thought that they had only to"stick it out" till Buller's force went up to the Free State and drewthe enemy off--that and a supply of cigarettes. 

Early in the afternoon I took my telegram to the Censor as usual, andafter the customary wanderings and waste of time I found him--only tohear that the wires were bunched and the line destroyed. So telegramsare ended; mails neither come nor go. The guns fired lazily tillevening, doing little harm on either side. A queer Boer ambulance, withlittle glass windows--something between a gipsy van and a pennypeep-show--came in under a huge white flag, bringing some of our woundedto exchange for wounded Boers. The amenities of civilised slaughter arecarefully observed. But one of the ambulance drivers was Mattey, "LongTom's" skilled gunner, in disguise. 

 _November 3, 1900. _

The bombardment continued, guns on Bulwan throwing shells into variouscamps, especially the Natal Volunteers. Many people chose the river bedas the most comfortable place to spend a happy day. They hoped the highbanks or perhaps the water would protect them. So there they sat on thestones and waited for night. I don't know how many shells pitched intothe town to-day--say 150, not more. Little harm was done, but people ofimportance had one grand shock. Just as lunch was in full swing at theRoyal, where officers, correspondents, and a nurse or two congregate formeals in hope of staying their intolerable thirst--bang came a shellfrom "Long Tom" straight for the dining-room window. Happily a littlehouse which served as bedroom to Mr. Pearse, of the _Daily News_, justcaught it on its way. Crash it came through the iron roof, the woodenceiling, into the brick wall. There it burst, and the house was in thepast. Happily Mr. Pearse was only on his way to his room, and had notreached it. Some of the lunchers got bricks in their backs, and one mantook to his bed of a shocked stomach. 

At the time I was away on the Maritzburg road, which starts west fromthe town and gradually curves southward. The picket on the ridge calledRange Post is a relic of the Royal Irish Fusiliers, now in theshow-ground at Pretoria. Major Kincaid was there, only returned thenight before from the Boer camp behind "Long Tom. " He had been ill withfever and was exchanged. He spoke with praise of the Boer treatment ofour wounded and prisoners. When our fellows were worn out, the Boersdismounted and let them ride. They brought them water and any food theyhad. Joubert came round the ambulance, commanding there should be nodistinction between the wounded of either race. Major Kincaid had seen agood deal of the so-called Colonel Blake and his so-called IrishBrigade. He found that the very few who were not Americans were English. He had not a single real Irishman among them. Blake, an American, hadcome out for the adventure, just as he went to the Chili War. 

As we were talking, up galloped General Brocklehurst, Ian Hamilton, andthe Staff, and I was called upon to give information about certainpoints in the country to our front--names and directions, the bits ofplain where cavalry could act, and so on. The Intelligence Departmenthad heard a large body of Free State Boers was moving westward from thesouth, as though retiring towards the passes. The information was false. The only true point about it was the presence of a large Boer forcealong a characteristic Boer position of low rocky hills about threemiles to our front. There the General thought he would shell them outwith a battery, and catch them as they retired by swinging cavalryround into the open length of plain behind the hills. So at 11 a. M. Outtrotted the 19th Hussars with the remains of the 18th. Then came abattery, with the 5th Dragoon Guards as escort In half an hour the gunswere in full action against those low hills. The enemy's one gun therewas silenced, but not before it had blown away half the head of a poorfellow among the Dragoon Guards. For an hour and a half we pouredshrapnel over the rocks, till, except for casual rifle fire, there wasno reply. Then another battery came up to protect the line to our rear, across which the Boers were throwing shells from positions on bothsides, though without much effect. Soon after one, up cantered theVolunteers--Imperial Light Horse and Border Mounted Infantry--and theywere sent forward, dismounted, to take the main position in front andoccupy a steep hill on our left. To front and left they went gaily on, but they failed. 

At their approach the rocks we had so persistently shelled, crackled andhammered from end to end with rifle fire. The Boers had hidden behindthe ridge, and now crept back again. Perhaps no infantry could havetaken that position only from the front. I watched the Volunteersadvance upon it in extended lines across a long green slope studded withant-hills. I could see the puffs of dust where bullets fell thick roundtheir feet. It was an impossible task. Some got behind a cactus hedge, some lay down and fired, some hid behind ant-hills or little banks. Suddenly that moment came when all is over but the running. The menbegan shifting uneasily about. A few turned round, then more. At firstthey walked and kept some sort of line. Then some began to run. Soonthey were all running, isolated or in groups of two or three. And allthe time those puffs of dust pursued their feet. Sometimes there was nopuff of dust, and then a man would spring in the air, or spin round, orjust lurch forward with arms outspread, a mere yellowish heap, hardly tobe distinguished from an ant-hill. I could see many a poor fellowwandering hither and thither as though lost, as is common in allretreats. A man would walk sideways, then run back a little, look round, fall. Another came by. The first evidently called out and the other gavehim a hand. Both stumbled on together, the puffs of dust splashing roundthem. Then down they fell and were quiet. A complacent correspondenttold me afterwards, with the condescending smile of higher light, thatonly seven men were hit. I only know that before evening twenty-five ofthe Light Horse alone were brought in wounded, not counting the dead, and not counting the other mounted troops, all of whom suffered. 

It was all over by a quarter-past three. The Dragoon Guards, who hadbeen trying to cover the retreat, galloped back, one or two horsesgalloping riderless. Under the Red Cross flag the dhoolies then began togo out to pick up the results of the battle. For an hour or so that worklasted, the dead and dying being found among the ant-hills where theyfell. Then we all trailed back, the enemy shelling our line of retreatfrom three sides, and we in such a mood that we cared very little forshells or anything else. 

 _November 4, 1899. _

This morning Sir George White sent Joubert a letter by Major Bateson, asking leave for the non-combatants, women and children to go down toMaritzburg. The morning was quiet, most people packing up in hopes ofgoing. But Joubert's answer put an end to that. The wounded, women, children, and other non-combatants might be collected in some placeabout four miles from the town, but could go no further. All whoremained would be treated as combatants. I don't know what other answerJoubert could have given. It was a mistake to ask the favour at all. Butthe General advised the town to accept the proposal. At a strange andunorganised public meeting on the steps of the Ionic Public Hall, now ahospital, the people indignantly rejected the terms. Leave our women andchildren at Intombi's Spruit--the bushy spot fixed upon, five milesaway--with Boers creeping round them, perhaps using them as a screen forattack! Britons never, never will! The Mayor hesitated, the Archdeaconwas eloquent, the Scotch proved the metaphysical impossibility of thescheme. Amid shouts and cheers and waving parasols the people raised theNational Anthem, and for once there was some dignity in that inferiortune. Everybody's life was in danger for "The Queen. " The proposal toleave the town was flung back with defiance. Rather let our homes beflattened out!

To-night my grey-haired Cape-boy and my Zulu came to me in silence andtears. They had hoped for escape. They longed for the peace ofMaritzburg, and now, like myself, they were bottled up amid "pom-poms. "Had I not promised never to bring them into danger--always to leavethem snug in the rear? They were devoted to my service. Others ran. Themno thought of safety could induce to leave me. But one had a wife anddescendants, the other had ancestors. It was pitiful. Better savagesnever loomed out of blackness. In sorrow I promised a pension for thewidow if the old man was killed. "But how if you get pom-pom too, boss?"he plaintively asked. I pledged the _Chronicle_ to take over theobligation. The word "obligation" consoled him. The lady's name is Mrs. Louis Nicodemus, now of Maritzburg. For the Zulu's ancestry I promisedno provision. 

CHAPTER VIII

TRAGEDY AND COMEDY

 _Sunday, November 5, 1899. _

The armistice lasted all day, except that the enemy threw two shells ata waggon going up the Helpmakaar road and knocked it to pieces, and, Ihear, killed a man or two--I don't know why. The townspeople were verybusy building shelters for the bombardment. The ends of bridges andculverts were closed up with sandbags and stones. Circular forts werepiled in the safest places among the rocks. The Army Service Corpsconstructed a magnificent work with mealy-bags and corn-beef cases--aperfect palace of security. But, as usual, the Kaffirs were wisest. Theyhave crept up the river banks to a place where it flows between twosteep hills of rock, and there is no access but by a narrow footpath. There they lie with their blankets and bits of things, indifferent totime and space. Some sort of Zulu missionary is up there, too, and I sawhim nobly washing a cooking-pot for his family, dressed in little buthis white clerical choker and a sort of undivided skirt. A few whitefamilies have gone to the same place, and I helped some of them toconstruct their new homes in the rocks amidst great merriment. The boyswere as delighted as children with a spade and bucket by the sea, andmany an impregnable redoubt was thrown up with a dozen stones. Whatthose homes will be like at the end of a week I don't know. A picnicwhere love is may be endurable for one afternoon, when there are plentyof other people to cook and wash up. But a hungry and unclean picnic byday and night, beside a muddy river, with little to eat and no one tocook, nowhere to sleep but the rock, and nothing to do but dodge theshells, is another story. "I tell you what, " said a serious Tory soldierto me, "if English people saw this sort of thing, they'd hang thatChamberlain. " "They won't hang him, but perhaps they'll make him aLord, " I answered, and watched the women trying to keep the childrendecent while their husbands worked the pick. 

In the afternoon the trains went out, bearing the wounded to their newcamp across the plain at Intombi's Spruit. The move was not wellorganised. From dawn the ambulance people had been at work shifting thehospital tents and all the surgical necessities, but at five in theafternoon a note came back from the officer in camp urging us not tosend any more patients. "There is no water, no rations, " it said; "notnearly enough tents are pitched. If more wounded come, they will have tospend the night on the open veldt. " But the long train was already madeup. The wounded were packed in it. It was equally impossible to leavethem there or to take them back. So on they went. In all that crowd ofsuffering men I did not hear a single complaint. Administration is notthe strong point of the British officer. "We are only sportsmen, " saidone of them with a sigh, as he crawled up the platform, torn withdysentery and fever. 

In front of the wounded were a lot of open trucks for such townspeopleas chose to go. They had hustled a few rugs and lumps of beddingtogether, and, sitting on these, they made the best of war. But not manywent, and most of those had relations among the Boers or were Boersthemselves. 

When the trains had gone, Captain Lambton, of the _Powerful_, showed methe new protection which his men and the sappers had built round thegreat 4. 7 in. Gun, which is always kept trained on "Long Tom. " Thesailors call the gun "Lady Anne, " in compliment to Captain Lambton'ssister, but the soldiers have named it "Weary Willie"--I don't know why. The fellow gun on Cove Hill is called "Bloody Mary"--which is nocompliment to anybody. The earthwork running round the "Lady Anne" iseighteen feet deep at the base. Had it been as deep the first day shecame, Lieutenant Egerton would still be at her side. 

 _November 6, 1899. _

When the melodrama doesn't come off, an indignant Briton demands hismoney back. Our melodrama has not come off. We were quite ready to giveit a favourable reception. The shops were shut, business abandoned. Manyhad taken secure places the night before, so as to be in plenty of time. Nearly all were seated expectant long before dawn. The rising sun was toring the curtain up. It rose. The curtain never stirred. From whom shallwe indignant Britons demand our money back?

With the first glimmer of light between the stars over Bulwan, those fewwho had stayed the night under roofs began creeping away to the holes inthe river bank or the rough, scrubby ground at the foot of the hillssouth-west of the town, where the Manchesters guard the ridge. Then weall waited, silent with expectation. The clouds turned crimson. At fivethe sun marched up in silence. Not a gun was heard. "They will begin atsix, " we said. Not a sound. "They are having a good breakfast, " wethought. Eight came, and we began to move about uneasily. Two miserableshells whizzed over my head, obviously aimed only at the balloon whichwas just coming down. "Call that a performance?" we grumbled. We leftour seats. We went on to the stage of the town. What was the matter? Was"Long Tom" ill? Had the Basutos overrun the Free State? Had Bullerreally advanced? Lieutenant Hooper, of the 5th Lancers, had walkedthrough from Maritzburg, passing the Royal Irish sentries at 2 a. M. Hebrought news of a division coming to our rescue. Was that the reason ofthe day's failure? So speculation chattered. The one thing certain wasthat the performance did not come off, and there was no one to give usour money back. 

[Illustration: IMPERIAL LIGHT HORSE SHELTERS]

So we spent the day wandering round the outposts, washing ourselves andour rags in the yellow river, trying to get the horses to drink thewater afterwards, contemplating the picturesque, and pretending to cook. Perhaps the greatest interest was the work upon a series of caves in theriver-bank, behind the Intelligence Office. They are square-topped, withstraight sides, cut clean into the hard, sandy cliff. The Light Horsehave made them for themselves and their ammunition. On the opposite sidethe Archdeacon has hollowed out a noble, ecclesiastical burrow. On thehills the soldiers are still at work completing their shelter-trenchesand walls. I think the Rifle Brigade on King's Post (the signal hill ofa month ago) have built the finest series of defences, for they havemade covered pits against shrapnel. But perhaps they are more exposedthan all the others except the Devons, who lie along a low ridge besidethe Helpmakaar road, open to shell from two points, and perhaps torifle-fire also. The Irish Fusiliers, under Major Churchill, have a veryingenious series of walls and covers. The main Manchesters' defences arecircular like forts; so are the Gordons' and the K. R. R. 's. All areprovisioned for fourteen days. 

I spent the afternoon searching for a runner, a Kaffir the colour ofnight, who would steal through the Boer lines in the dark with atelegram. In my search I lost two hours through the conscientiousness ofthe 5th Lancers, who arrested me and sent me from pillar to post, justas if I was seeking information at the War Office. At last they tookme--the Colonel himself, three privates with rifles and a mountedorderly with a lance--took me to the General Staff, and there theabsurdity ended. But seriously, what is the good of having the veryhighest and most authoritative passes possible--one from the War Officeand one from the head of the Intelligence Department here--if anyconscientious colonel can refuse to acknowledge them, and drag acorrespondent about amid the derision of Kaffirs and coolies, and ofDutchmen who are known perfectly well to send every scrap ofintelligence to their friends outside? I lost two hours; probably I lostmy chance of getting a runner through. I had complied with theregulations in every possible respect. My pass was in my hand; and whatwas the good of it?

But after all we are in the midst of a tragedy. Let us not be tooserious. Dishevelled women are peering out of their dens in the rocksand holes in the sand. They crawl into the evening light, shaking thedirt from their petticoats and the sand from their back hair. They rubthe children's faces round with the tails of their gowns. They temptscraps of flame to take the chill off the yellow water for thechildren's tea. After sundown a steady Scotch drizzle settles down uponus. 

 _November 7, 1899. _

To-day the melodrama has begun in earnest. "Long Tom" and four or fivesmaller guns from Bulwan, and a nearer battery to the north-west, beganhurling percussion shell and shrapnel upon the Naval batteries athalf-past seven. Our "Lady Anne" answered, but after flinging shellsinto the immense earthworks for an hour or two without much effect, bothsides got tired of that game. But the Boer fire was not quite withouteffect, for one of the smaller shells burst right inside the "LadyAnne's" private chamber and carried away part of the protecting gear, not killing any men. Then "Long Tom" was deliberately turned upon thetown, especially upon the Convent, which stands high on the ridge, andis used as a hospital. His shells went crashing among the houses, buthappily land is cheap in South Africa still, and the houses, as a rule, are built on separate plots, so that as often as not the shells fall ina garden bush or among the clothes-lines. Only two Indian bearers werewounded and a few horses and cattle killed. Things went pretty quietlythrough the morning, except that there was a good deal of firing--shelland rifle--on the high ridge south-west, where the Manchesters are. About two o'clock I started for that position, and being fond of shortcuts, thought I would ford the river at a break in its steep banksinstead of going round by the iron bridge. Mr. Melton Prior was with me, for I had promised to show him a quiet place for sketching the wholeview of the town in peace. As we came to the river a shell pitched nearus, but we did not take much notice of it. In the middle of the ford wetook the opportunity of letting the horses drink, and they stooddrinking like the orphan lamb. Suddenly there was something more thanthe usual bang, crash, scream of a big shell, and the water was splashedwith lumps and shreds of iron, my hat was knocked off and lay wrecked inthe stream, and the horses were dashing this way and that with terror. "Are you killed?" shouted Mr. Prior. "I don't think so, " I said. "Areyou?" And then I had to lash my horse back to the place lest my hatshould sail down-stream and adorn a Queen's enemy. There is nothing likeshell-fire for giving lessons in horsemanship. 

[Illustration: THE DRIFT AND WATERING PLACE]

The Manchesters had been having an uncomfortable time of it, and I foundSir George White and his staff up on their hill. As we walked about, thelittle puffs of dust kept rising at our feet. We were within rifle-fire, though at long range. Now and then a very peculiar little shell wasthrown at us. One went straight through a tent, but we could not find itafterwards. It was a shell like a viper. I left the Manchesters puttingup barbed-wire entanglements to increase their defence, and came back totry to find another runner. The shells were falling very thick in thetown, and for the first time people were rather scared. As I write onebursts just over this little tin house. It is shrapnel, and the ironrain falls hammering on the roof, but it does not come through. Twowindows only are broken. Probably it burst too high. 

 _November 8, 1899. _

Fairly quiet day. The great event was the appearance of a new "Long Tom"on the Bulwan. He is to be called "Puffing Billy, " from the vastquantity of smoke he pours out. Nothing else of great importancehappened. Major Grant, of the Intelligence, was slightly wounded whilesketching on the Manchesters' ridge. Coolies wandered about the streetsall day with tin boxes or Asiatic bundles on their heads. Joubert hadsent them in as a present from Dundee. They were refugees from thatunhappy town, and after a visit to Pretoria, they are now dumped downhere to help devour our rations. Some Europeans have come, too--guards, signalmen and shopkeepers--who report immense reinforcements coming upfor the Boers. Is there not something a little medięval in sending acrowd of hungry non-combatants into an invested town?

CHAPTER IX

INCIDENTS, ACCIDENTS, AND REALITIES

 LADYSMITH, _November 9, 1899_. [1]

A day of furious and general attack. Just before five I was wakened by ashell blustering through the eucalyptus outside my window, and burstingin a gully beyond. "Lady Anne" answered at once, and soon all the NavalBrigade guns were in full cry. What should we have done without theNaval guns? We have nothing else but ordinary field artillery, quiteunable to reply to the heavy guns which the Boers have now placed inposition round the town. Yet they only came up at the last moment, andit was a mere piece of luck they got through at all. Standing behindthem on the ridge above my tin house, I watched the firing till nineo'clock, dodging behind a loose wall to avoid the splinters which buzzthrough the air after each shot, and are sometimes strangely slow tofall. Once after "Long Tom" had fired I stood up, thinking all was over, when a big fragment hummed gently above my head, went through the roofand ceiling of a house a hundred yards behind, and settled on ashell-proof spring mattress in the best bedroom. One of the little boysrunning out from the family burrow in the rocks was delighted to find itthere, and carried it off to add to his collection of moths and birds'eggs. The estimate of "Long Tom's" shell has risen from 40lbs. To 96lbs. And I believe that to be the true weight. One of them to-day dug astupendous hole in the pavement just before one of the principal shops, and broke yards of shutter and plate glass to pieces. It was quitepleasant to see a shop open again. 

So the bombardment went on with violence all the morning. Thetroglodytes in their burrows alone thought themselves safe, but, infact, only five men were killed, and not all of those by shell. One wasa fine sergeant of the Liverpools, who held the base of the Helpmakaarroad where it leaves the town eastward. Sergeant Macdonald was his name, a man full of zeal, and always tempted into danger by curiosity, asmost people are. Instead of keeping under shelter of the sangar when theguns on Bulwan were shelling the position, he must needs go outside "tohave a look. " The contents of a shell took him full in front. Any of hisnine wounds would have been fatal. His head and face seemed shattered tobits; yet he did not lose consciousness, but said to his captain, "I'dbetter have stopped inside, sir. " He died on the way to hospital. 

A private of the Liverpools was killed too. About twenty-four in allwere wounded, chiefly by rifle fire, Captain Lethbridge of the RifleBrigade being severely injured in the spine. Lieutenant Fisher, of theManchesters, had been shot through the shoulder earlier in the day, butdid not even report himself as wounded until evening. 

After all, the rifle, as Napoleon said, is the only thing that counts, and to-day we had a great deal of it at various points in our long lineof defence. That line is like a horseshoe, ten to twelve miles round. 

The chief attacks were directed against the Manchesters in Cęsar's Camp(we are very historic in South Africa) and against a mixed force onObservation Hill, two companies of the Rifle Brigade, two of the King'sRoyal Rifles, and the 5th Lancers dismounted. The Manchesters sufferedmost. Since the investment began the enemy has never left them in peace. They are exposed to shells from three positions, and to continualsniping from the opposite hill. It is more than a week since even theofficers washed or took their clothes off, and now the men have beenobliged to strike their tents because the shells and rifles werespoiling the stuff. 

The various companies get into their sangars at 3 a. M. , and stay theretill it is dark again. Two companies were to-day thrown out along thefurther edge of their hill in extended order as firing line, and soonafter dawn the Boers began to creep down the opposite steep by two orthree at a time into one of the many farms owned by Bester, a notorioustraitor, now kept safe in Ladysmith. All morning the firing was veryheavy, many of the bullets coming right over the hill and dropping nearthe town. Our men kept very still, only firing when they saw their mark. Three of them were killed, thirteen wounded. Before noon a field batterycame up to support the battalion, and against that terrifying shrapnelof ours the Boers attempted no further advance. In the same way theycame creeping up against Observation Hill (a barren rocky ridge on thenorth-west of the town), hiding by any tree or stone, but werecompletely checked by four companies of Rifles, with two guns and thedismounted Lancers. They say the Boer loss was very heavy at bothplaces. It is hard to know. 

In the afternoon things were fairly quiet, but in walking along the lowridge held by the Liverpools and Devons, I was sniped at every time myhead showed against the sky. At 4 p. M. There was a peculiar forwardmovement of our cavalry and guns along the Helpmakaar road, which cameto nothing being founded on false information, such as comes in hourly. 

The great triumph of the day was certainly the Royal salute at noon inhonour of the Prince of Wales. Twenty-one guns with shotted charge, andall fired slap upon "Long Tom"! It was the happiest moment in the Navy'slife for many a year. One after another the shot flew. "Long Tom" was sobewildered he has not spoken since. The cheering in the camps was heardfor miles. People thought the relief division was in sight. But we wereonly signifying that the Prince was a year older. 

[Footnote 1: Despatched by runner on November 20, but returned to thewriter on December 23, and despatched again on January 1. ]

 _November 10, 1899. _

Another morning of unusual quiet. People sicken of the monotony whenshells are not flying. We don't know any reason for the calm, exceptthat the Dutch are burying their dead of yesterday. But the peace iswelcome, and in riding round our positions I found nearly all the menlying asleep in the sun. The wildest stories flew: General French hadbeen seen in the street; his brigade was almost in sight; Methuen was atColenso with overwhelming force. The townspeople took heart. One man whohad spent his days in a stinking culvert since the siege began now creptinto the sun. "They are arrant cowards, these Boers, " he cried, stampingthe echoing ground; "why don't they come on and fight us like men?" Sothe day wears. At four o'clock comes an African thunderstorm with adeluge of rain, filling the water tanks and slaking the dust, gratefulto all but the men of both armies uncovered on the rocks. 

 _November 11, 1899. _

A soaking early morning with minute rain, hiding all the circle of thehills, for which reason there is no bombardment yet, and I have spent aquiet hour with Colonel Stoneman, arranging rations for my men andbeasts, and taking a lesson how to organise supplies and yet keep anunruffled mind. The rest of the morning I sat with a company of the 60th(K. R. R. ) on the top of Cove Hill (another of the many Aldershot names). The men had been lining the exposed edge of Observation Hill all night, without any shelter, whilst the thick cold rain fell upon them. It wasraining still, and they lay about among the rocks and thorny mimosabushes in rather miserable condition. 

It would be a good thing if the Army could be marched through RegentStreet as the men look this morning. It would teach people more aboutwar than a hundred pictures of plumed horsemen and the dashing charge. The smudgy khaki uniforms soaked through and through, stained black andgreen and dingy red with wet and earth and grass; the draggledgreat-coats, heavy with rain and thick with mud; the heavy soppingboots, the blackened, battered helmets; the blackened, battered facesbelow them, unwashed and unshaved since the siege began; the eyes heavyand bloodshot with sun and rain and want of sleep; the peculiarsmell--there is not much brass band and glory about us now. 

At noon the mist lifted, and just before one the Boer guns opened firenearly all round the horseshoe, except that the Manchesters were left inpeace. I think only one new gun had been placed in position, but anotherhad been cleverly checked. As a rule, it has been our polite way to letthe Boers settle their guns comfortably in their places, and then to tryin vain to blow them out. Yesterday the enemy were fortifying a gun onStar Hill, when one of our artillery captains splashed a shell rightinto the new wall. We could see the Boer gunners running out on bothsides, and the fort has not been continued. 

To-day "Long Tom's" shells were thrown pretty much at random about thetown. One blew a mule's head off close to the bank, and disembowelled asecond. One went into the "Scotch House" and cleared the shop. A thirdpitched close to the Anglican Church, and brought the Archdeacon out ofburrow. But there was no real loss, except that one of the Naval Brigadegot a splinter in the forehead. My little house had another dose ofshrapnel, and on coming in I found a soldier digging up the bits in thegarden; but the Scotch owner drove him away for "interfering with themineral rights. " At 3. 30 the mist fell again, and there was very littlefiring after 4. Out on the flat beyond the racecourse our men wereengaged in blowing up and burning some little farms and kraals whichsheltered the Boer scouts. As I look towards the Bulwan I see the yellowblaze of their fires. 

 _Sunday, November 12, 1899. _

Amid all the estimable qualities of the Boer race there is none morelaudable than their respect for the Sabbath day. It has been a calm andsunny day. Not a shot was fired--no sniping even. We feel like grouse ona pious Highland moor when Sunday comes, and even the laird dares notshoot. The cave dwellers left their holes and flaunted in the light ofday. In the main street I saw a perambulator, stuffed with human young. Pickets and outposts stretched their limbs in the sun. Soldiers off dutyscraped the clods off their boots and polished up their bayonets. Officers shaved and gloried over a leisurely breakfast. For myself, Iwashed my shirt and hung it on the line of fire to dry. 

In the morning one of the Irish Brigade rode in through the Liverpools'picket. He was "fed up" with the business, as the soldiers say. Hereported that only about seventy of the Brigade were left. He also saidthe Boer commandants were holding a great meeting to-day--whether forpsalms or strategy I don't know; probably both. We heard the usualrumours that the Boers were going or had gone. Climbing to theManchesters' post for the view, I could see three Boer trains waiting atModder's Spruit station, about six miles up the Newcastle line. Did theybring reinforcements, or were they waiting to take "Long Tom" home byreturn ticket? We shall know to-morrow. Over the valley where werepulsed Thursday's attack, the vultures flew as thick as swifts uponthe Severn at twilight. Those were the only signs of war--those and thelittle forts which hid the guns. Otherwise the enormous landscape lay atpeace. I have never seen it so clear--the precipitous barrier of theBasuto mountains, lined with cloud, and still touched with snow: thegreat sculptured mountains that mark the Free State border: and then thescenes which have become so familiar to us all--Elands Laagte, TintaInyoni, Pepworth Hill, Lombard's Kop, and the great Bulwan. Turning tothe south we looked across to the nearer hills, beyond which lieColenso, Estcourt, and the road to Maritzburg and the sea. It is frombeyond those hills that our help is coming. 

The Boers have many estimable qualities. They are one of the fewadmirable races still surviving, and they conduct this siege with realconsideration and gentlemanly feeling. They observe the Sabbath. Theygive us quiet nights. After a violent bombardment they generally give usat least one day to calm down. Their hours for slaughter are six to six, and they seldom overstep them. They knock off for meals--unfashionablyearly, it is true, but it would be petty to complain. Like goodemployers, they seldom expose our lives to danger for more than eighthours a day. They are a little capricious, perhaps, in the use of thewhite flag. At the beginning of the siege our "Lady Anne" killed orwounded some of "Long Tom's" gunners and damaged the gun. Whereupon theBoers hoisted the white flag over him till the place was cleared and hewas put to rights again. Then they drew it down and went on firing. Itwas the sort of thing schoolboys might do. Captain Lambton complainedthat by the laws of war the gun was permanently out of action. But "LongTom" goes on as before. 

I think the best story of the siege comes from a Kaffir who walked in afew days ago. In the Boer camp behind Pepworth Hill he had seen the menbeing taught bayonet exercise with our Lee-Metfords, captured at Dundee. The Boer has no bayonet or steel of his own, and for an assault on thetown he will need it. Instruction was being given by a prisoner--asergeant of the Royal Irish Fusiliers--with a rope round his neck!

 _November 13, 1899. _

The Boer method of siege is quite inexplicable. Perhaps it comes ofinexperience. Perhaps they have been studying the sieges of ancienthistory and think they are doing quite the proper thing in sitting downround a garrison, putting in a few shells and waiting. But they forgetthat, though the sieges of ancient history lasted ten years, nowadays wereally can't afford the time. The Boers, we hope, have scarcely tendays, yet they loiter along as though eternity was theirs. 

To-day they began soon after five with the usual cannonade from "LongTom, " "Puffing Billy, " and three or four smaller guns, commanding theNaval batteries. The answers of our "Lady Anne" and "Bloody Mary" shookme awake, and, seated on the hill, I watched the big guns pounding ateach other for about three hours, when there came an interval forbreakfast. As far as I could make out, neither side did the other theleast harm. It was simply an unlucrative exchange of so much broken ironbetween two sensible and prudent nations. The moment "Tom" or "Billy"flashed, "Anne" or "Mary" flashed too. Our shells do the distance abouttwo and a-half seconds quicker than theirs, so that we can see theresult of our shot just before one has to duck behind the stones for thecrash and whiz of the enormous shells which started first. To-day mostof "Tom's" shells passed over the batteries, and plunged down the hillinto the town beyond. It is supposed that he must be wearing out. He hasbeen firing here pretty steadily for over a fortnight, to say nothing ofhis work at Dundee. But I think his fire upon the town is quitedeliberate. He might pound away at "Lady Anne" for ever, but there isalways a chance that 96lbs. Of iron exploding in a town may, at allevents, kill a mule. 

So the bombardment went on cheerily through the early morning, tillabout 10. 30 it slackened down in the inexplicable Boer fashion, andhardly one shot an hour was fired afterwards. The surmise goes thatJoubert cannot get his men up to the attacking point. Their loss lastSaturday was certainly heavy. 

Yesterday the Boers, with fine simplicity, sent to our ambulance campfor some chlorodyne because they had run short of it, and were troubledwith dysentery like ourselves. Being at heart a kindly people, we gavethem what they wanted and a little brandy besides. The British soldierthereupon invents the satire that Joubert asked for some forage becausehis horses were hungry, and Sir George White replied: "I would verygladly accede to your request, but have only enough forage myself tolast three years. "

The day passed, and we did not lose a single man. Yet the enemy musthave enjoyed one incident. I was riding up to spend an hour in theafternoon with Major Churcher and the 200 Royal Irish Fusiliers left atRange Post, when on an open space between me and their little camp I sawa squadron of the 18th Hussars circling and doubling about as thoughthey were practising for the military tournament. Almost before I hadtime to think, bang came a huge shell from "Puffing Billy" just over myhead, and pitched between me and them. Happily, it fell short, but itgave the Dutch gunners a wonderful display of our cavalry's excellence. Even before I could come up men and horses had vanished into air. 

All day strange rumours have been afloat about the Division supposed tobe coming to our relief. It was expected to-morrow. Now it is put offtill Thursday. It is even whispered it will sit quiet at Estcourt, andnot come to our relief at all. To-night is bitterly cold, and the menare chilled to the stomach on the bare hillsides. 

 _November 14, 1899. _

The siege is becoming very tedious, and we are losing heart. Depressionwas to-day increased by one of those futile sorties which only end inretirement. In the early morning a large Boer convoy of waggons was seenmoving along the road beyond Bluebank towards the north, about eightmiles away. Ninety waggons were reported. One man counted twenty-five, another thirteen. I myself saw two. At all events, waggons were there, and we thought of capturing them. But it was past ten before even thenucleus of a force reached Range Post, and the waggons were already faraway. Out trotted the 18th and 19th Hussars, three batteries, and theImperial Light Horse on to the undulating plain leading up to the ridgeof Bluebank, where the Boers have one gun and plenty of rocks to hidebehind. That gun opened fire at once, and was supported by "Faith, ""Hope, " and "Charity, " three black-powder guns along Telegraph Hill, besides the two guns on Surprise Hill. In fact, all the Boer guns chimedin round the circle, and for two hours it was difficult to trace whereeach whizzing shell came from, familiar though we are with theirpeculiar notes. 

Meantime our batteries kept sprinkling shrapnel over Bluebank with theirusual steadiness and perfection of aim. The enemy's gun was soon eithersilenced or withdrawn. The rifle fire died down. Not a Boer was to beseen upon the ridge, but three galloped away over the plains behind asthough they had enough of it. The Light Horse dismounted and advanced toStar Point. All looked well. We expected to see infantry called up toadvance upon the ridge, while our cavalry swept round upon the fugitivesin the rear. But nothing of the kind happened. 

Suddenly the Light Horse walked back to their horses and retired. One byone the batteries retired at a walk. The cavalry followed. Before twoo'clock the whole force was back again over Range Post. The enemy pouredin all the shells and bullets they could, but our men just came back ata walk, and only four were wounded. I am told General Brocklehurst wasunder strict orders not to lose men. 

The shells did more damage than usual in the town. Three houses werewrecked, one "Long Tom" shell falling into Captain Valentine'sdining-room, and disturbing the breakfast things. Another came throughtwo bedrooms in the hotel, and spoilt the look of the smoking-room. ButI think the only man killed was a Carbineer, who had his throat cut by asplinter as he lay asleep in his tent. 

Just after midnight a very unusual thing happened. Each of the Boer gunsfired one shot. Apparently they were trained before sunset and fired ata given signal. The shells woke me up, whistling over the roof. Most ofthe townspeople rushed, lightly clad, to their holes and coverts. Thetroops stood to arms. But the rest of the night was quiet. ' Apparentlythe Boers, contrary to their character, had only done it to annoy, because they knew it teased us. 

CHAPTER X

ENNUI ENLIVENED BY SUDDEN DEATH

 LADYSMITH, _November 15, 1899_. 

This drama is getting too long for the modern stage, and so far theDutch have obeyed none of the dramatic rules. To-day was one monotony ofrain, and may be blotted out from the memory of all but the men who layhour after hour miserably soaking upon the edges of the hills. After theearly morning not a shell was fired. The mist was too thick to alloweven of wild shots at the town. 

I had another try at getting a Kaffir runner to carry a telegram throughto Estcourt. 

 _November 16, 1899. _

The sun came back to cheer us up and warm our bones. At the Liverpools'picket, on the Newcastle road, the men at six o'clock were rejoicing ina glorious and soapy wash where the rain had left a pool in a quarry. The day passed very quietly, shells only falling on an average of oneevery half-hour. Unhappily a shrapnel scattered over the station, wounded three or four natives, and killed an excellent railway guard--asharp fragment tearing through his liver and intestines. There was highdebate whether the shell was thrown by "Silent Susan, " or what othergun. Some even stuck out for "Long Tom" himself. But to the guard itmakes no difference, and he was most concerned. 

Relief was to have come to us to-day for certain, but we hear nothing ofit beyond vague rumours of troops at Estcourt and Maritzburg. We areslowly becoming convinced that we are to be left to our fate while themain issue is settled elsewhere. Colonel Ward has organised theprovisions of the town and troops to last for eighty days. He is alsobuying up all the beer and spirits, partly to cheer the soldiers' heartson these dreary wet nights; partly to prevent the soldier cheeringhimself too much. 

In the evening I sent off another runner with a telegram and quite amail of letters from officers and men for their mothers', wives, andlovers over seas. He was a bony young Kaffir, with a melancholy face, black as sorrow. At six o'clock I saw him start, his apish feet paddingthrough the crusted slush. One pocket bulged with biscuits, one with atin of beef. Between his black chest and his rag of shirt he had tuckedthat neat packet which was to console so many a woman, white-skinned anddelicately dressed. Fetching a wide compass, he stole away into theeastern twilight, where the great white moon was rising, shrouded inelectric cloud. 

 _November 17, 1899. _

A few shells came in early, and by nine o'clock there was so much firingon the north-west that I rode out to the main position of the 60th(King's Royal Rifles) on Cove Hill. I found that our field battery therewas being shelled from Surprise Hill and its neighbour, but nothingunusual was happening. The men were in a rather disconsolate condition. Even where they have built a large covered shelter underground the wetcomes through the roof and trickles down upon them in liquid filth. Butthey bear it all with ironic indifference, consoling themselvesespecially with the thought that they killed one Boer for certainyesterday. "The captain saw him fall. "

Crossing the open valley in front I came to the long ridge calledObservation Hill. There the rifle fire hardly ever ceases. It is held bythree companies of the K. R. R. And the 5th Lancers dismounted. It looksout over the long valley of Bell's Spruit; that scene of the greatdisaster where we lost our battalions, being less than three miles awayat the foot of the rugged mountain beyond--Surprise Hill. Close in frontis one of the two farms called Hyde's, and there the Boers find shelterat nights and in rain. The farm's orchard, its stone walls, the rocks, and all points of cover swarm with Boer sharpshooters, and whenever ourmen show themselves upon the ridge the bullets fly. An immense quantityof them are lost. In all the morning's firing only one Lancer had beenwounded. As I came over the edge the bullets all passed over my head, but our men have to keep behind cover if they can, and only return thefire when they are sure of a mark. I found a detachment of Lancers, witha corporal, lying behind a low stone wall. It happened to be exactly theplace I had wished to find, for at one end of the wall stood the Lancerdummy, whose fame has gone through the camp. There he stood, regardingthe Dutch with a calm but defiant aspect, his head and shouldersprojecting about three feet over the wall. His legs were only a sackstuffed with straw, but round his straw body a beautiful khaki tunic hadbeen buttoned, and his straw head was protected by a regulation helmet, for which a slouch hat was sometimes substituted, to give variety andversimilitude. In his right hand he grasped a huge branch of a tree, either as rifle or lance. He was withdrawn occasionally, and stuck upagain in a fresh attitude. To please me the corporal crept behind himand jogged him up and down in a life-like and scornful manner. The hopewas that the Boers would send a bullet through that heart of straw. Inthe afternoon they did in fact pierce his hat, but at the time they werekeeping their ammunition for something more definitely human, likemyself. As I retired, after saluting the dummy for his courage, thebullets flew again, but the sights were still too high. 

[Illustration: BULWAN]

On my return to the old Scot's house, I found an excited little crowd inthe back garden. They were digging out an enormous shell which hadplumped into the grass, taking off the Scot's hat and knocking him downwith the shock as it fell. The thing had burst in the ground, and itwas as good as a Chinese puzzle to fit the great chunks of irontogether. At first we could not find the solid base, but we dug it outwith a pick from the stiff, black clay. It had sunk 3 ft. 8 in. Downfrom the surface, and had run 7 ft. 6 in. From the point of contact. Itwas a 45-pounder, thrown by a 4. 7 in. Gun--probably one of the fourhowitzers which the Boers possess, standing half-way down Lombard's Kop, about four miles away, and is identical with "Silent Susan. " But withsmokeless powder it is almost impossible to say where a shot comes from. "Long Tom" and "Puffing Billy, " with their huge volumes of smoke, aremuch more satisfactory. 

Rain fell heavily for the rest of the day, and the bombardment ended, but it was bitter cold. 

 _November 18, 1899. _

The bombardment was continued without much energy. The balloon reportedthat the Boers were occupied in putting up more guns on Bulwan. Rumoursays there will be thirteen in all, a goodly number for a position whichcompletely commands the town from end to end. All day the shells had anote of extra spite in them as they came plunging among the defencelesshouses. But they did no great harm till evening. As a rule the Boerscease fire about half-past six, and some twenty of us then settled downto dinner at the hotel--one or two officers, some doctors, and most ofthe correspondents. We had hardly begun to-night when a shell from"Silent Susan" whistled just over the roof and burst in the yard. Withinfive minutes came the louder scream of another. It crashed over us, breaking its way through the hotel from roof to floor. We all got up andcrowded to the main entrance on the street. The shell had struck asidewall in the bar, and glanced off through the doorway withoutexploding. Dr. Stark, of Torquay, was standing at the door, waiting fora place at dinner, and talking to Mr. Machugh, of the _Daily Telegraph_. The shell struck him full in the thigh, leaving his left leg hangingonly by a piece of flesh, and shattering the right just at the knee. "Hold me up, " he said, and did not lose consciousness. We moved him tothe hospital, but he died within an hour. I have little doubt that theshells were aimed at the hotel, because the Boers know that Dr. Jamesonand Colonel Rhodes are in the town. But the man killed was Dr. Stark, astrong opponent of the Chamberlain policy, and a vigorous denouncer ofthe war's injustice. 

The havoc of the siege is gradually increasing, and the prospect ofrelief grows more and more distant. Just after midnight the Boers againaroused us by discharging all their guns into the forts or the town, andagain the people hurried away to their caves and culverts forprotection. The long Naval guns replied, and then all was quiet. 

 _Sunday, November 19, 1899. _

Another day of rest, for which we thank the Fourth Commandment. Afterthe Sabbath wash, I went up to Cęsar's Camp for the view. On the way Icalled in upon the balloon, which now dwells in a sheltered leafy gladeat the foot of the Gordons' hill, when it is not in the sky, surroundedby astonished vultures. The weak points of ballooning appear to be thatit is hard to be sure of detail as distinguished from mass, and even ona clear day the light is often insufficient or puzzling. It is seldom, for instance, that the balloonist gets a definite view towards Colenso, which to us is the point of greatest interest. I found that the secondballoon was only used as a blind to the enemy, like a paper kite flownover birds to keep them quiet. Going up to the Manchesters' position onthe top of Cęsar's Camp, I had a view of the whole country almost asgood as any balloon's. The Boer laagers have increased in size, and arenot so carefully hidden. 

Beside the railway at the foot of "Long Tom's" hill near Modder Spruit, there was quite a large camp of Boer tents and three trains as usual. They say the Boers have put their prisoners from the Royal IrishFusiliers here, but it is unlikely they should bring them back fromPretoria. The tents of another large camp showed among the bushes onLombard's Nek, where the Helpmakaar road passes between Lombard's Kopand Bulwan, and many waggon laagers were in sight beyond. At the foot ofthe flat-topped Middle Hill on the south-west, the Boers have placed twomore guns to trouble the Manchesters further. But our defences along thewhole ridge are now very strong. 

In the afternoon they buried Dr. Stark in the cemetery between the riverand the Helpmakaar road. I don't know what has become of a kitten whichhe used to carry about with him in a basket when he went to spend theday under the shelter of the river bank. 

 _November 20, 1899. _

"Gentlemen, " said Sir George White to his Staff, "we have two things todo--to kill time and to kill Boers--both equally difficult. " The siegeis becoming intolerably tedious. It is three weeks to-day since "BlackMonday, " when the great disaster befell us, and we seem no nearer theend than we were at first. We console ourselves with the thought that weare but a pawn on a great chessboard. We hope we are doing service bykeeping the main Boer army here. We hope we are not handed over fornothing to _ennui_ enlivened by sudden death. But the suspicion willrecur that perhaps the army hedging us in is not large after all. It isa bad look-out if, as Captain Lambton put it, we are being "stuck up bya man and a boy. "

Nothing is so difficult to estimate as Boer numbers, and we never takeenough account of the enemy's mobility. They can concentrate rapidly atany given point and gain the appearance of numbers which they don'tpossess. However, the balloon reports the presence of laagers of tencommandoes in sight. We may therefore assume about as many out of sight, and consider that we are probably doing our duty as a pawn. 

This morning the Boers hardly gave a sign of life, except that justbefore noon "Puffing Billy" shelled a platelayer's house on the flatbeyond the racecourse, in the attempt to drive out our scouts who weremaking a defended position of it. 

In the afternoon I rode up to the Rifle Brigade at King's Post, abovethe old camp, and met Captain Paley, whom I last saw administering aprovince in Crete. Suddenly the Boer guns began firing from SurpriseHill and Thornhill's Kop, just north of us, and the shells passing overour heads, crashed right into the 18th Hussar camp beside a littlebridge over the river below. Surprise Hill alone dropped five shells insuccession among the crowded tents, horses, and men. The men beganhurrying about like ants. Tents were struck at once, horses saddled, everything possible taken up, and the whole regiment sought cover in alittle defile close by. Within half an hour of the first shell the placewas deserted. The same guns compelled the Naval Brigade to shift theirposition last night. We have not much to teach the Boer gunners, exceptthe superiority of our shells. 

The bombardment then became general; only three Gordons were wounded, but the town suffered a good deal. Three of "Long Tom's" shells pitchedin the main street, one close in front of a little girl, who escapedunhurt. Another carried away the heavy stone porch of the AnglicanChurch, and, at dinner-time, "Silent Susan" made a mark on the hotel, but it was empty. Just before midnight the guns began again. I watchedthem flashing from Bulwan and the other hills, but could not mark whatharm they did. It was a still, hot night, with a large waning moon. Inthe north-west the Boers were flashing an electric searchlight, apparently from a railway truck on the Harrismith line. The nation offarmers is not much behind the age. They will be sending up a balloonnext. 

 _November 21, 1899. _

The desultory bombardment went on as usual, except that "Long Tom" didnot fire. The Staff is said to have lost heliographic communication withthe south. To-day they sent off two passenger pigeons for Maritzburg. The rumour also went that the wounded Dublins, taken to Intombi Spruit, from the unfortunate armoured train, had heard an official report ofBuller's arrival at Bloemfontein after heavy losses. Another rumour toldthat many Boer wives and daughters were arriving in the laagers. Theywere seen, especially on Sunday, parading quite prettily in whitefrocks. This report has roused the liveliest indignation, which I canonly attribute to envy. In our own vulgar land, companies would berunning cheap excursions to witness the siege of Ladysmith--one shillingextra to see "Long Tom" in action. 

In the morning they buried a Hindoo bearer who had died of pneumonia. The grave was dug among the unmarked heaps of the native graveyard onthe river bank. It took five hours to make it deep enough, and meantimethe dead man lay on a stretcher, wrapped in a clean white sheet. Hisfriends, about twenty of them, squatted round, almost motionless, andquite indifferent to time and space. In their midst a thin grey smokerose from a brazen jar, in which smouldered scented wood, spices, lavender, and the fresh blossom of one yellow flower like an aster. Atintervals of about a minute, one of the Hindoos raised a short, wailingchant, in parts of which the others joined. On the ground in front ofhim lay a sweetly-scented manuscript whose pages he never turned. It waswritten in the Oriental characters, which seem to tell either of Nirvanaor of the nightingale's cry to the rose. At times the other friendstapped gently on three painted drums, hardly bigger than tea cups. Theenemy, seeing from Bulwan the little crowd of us engaged upon a heathenrite, threw shrapnel over our heads. It burst and sprinkled the dustyground behind us with lead. Not one of the Hindoos looked up or turnedhis face. That low chant did not pause or vary by a note. Close by, aKaffir was digging a grave for a Zulu woman who had died in childbed. Inthe river beyond soldiers were bathing, Zulus were soaping themselveswhite, and one of the Liverpool Mounted Infantry was trying to preventhis horse rolling in four feet of water. 

 _November 22, 1899. _

A day only relieved by the wildest rumours and a few shells moredangerous than usual. Buller was reported as being at Hellbrouw; GeneralFrench was at Dundee; and France had declared war upon England. Shellswhiffled into the town quite indiscriminately. One pitched into the TownHall, now the main hospital. In the evening "Long Tom" threw five insuccession down the main street. But only one man was killed. A Natalpoliceman was cooking his dinner in a cellar when "Silent Susan's" shotfell upon him and he died. For myself, I spent most of the day onWaggon Hill west of the town, where the 1st K. R. Rifles have threecompanies and a strong sangar, very close to the enemy. I found that, asbecame Britons, their chief interest lay in sport. They had shot twolittle antelopes or rehbuck, and hung them up to be ready for a feast. Their one thought was to shoot more. From the hill I looked down uponone of Bester's farms. The owner-a Boer traitor-was now in safe keeping. A few days ago his family drove off in a waggon for the Free State. White were their parasols and in front they waved a Red Cross flag. On agooseberry bush in the midst of the farm they also left a white flag, where it still flew to protect a few fat pigs, turkeys, and other fowl. The white flag is becoming a kind of fetish. To-day all our white tentswere smeared with reddish mud to make them less visible. Beyond RangePost the enemy set up a new gun commanding the Maritzburg road as itcrossed that point of hill. The Irish Fusiliers who held that positionwere shelled heavily, but without loss. 

 _November 23, 1899. _

The schoolmaster's wife had a fine escape. She was asleep in her bedroomwhen a 45lb. Shell came through the fireplace and burst towards thebed. The room was smashed to pieces, but she was only cut about thehead, one splinter driving in the bone, but not making a very seriouswound. Two days before she had given a soldier 10s. For a fragment. Nowshe had a whole shell for nothing. At five o'clock "Long Tom" threwseven of his 96lb. Shells straight down the street in quick succession, smashing a few shops and killing some mules and cattle, but withoutfurther harm. We watched them from the top of the road. They cameshrieking over our heads, and then a flare of fire and a cloud of dustand stones showed where they fell. At every explosion the women andchildren laughed and cheered with delight, as at the Crystal Palacefireworks. 

Both yesterday and to-day the Boers on Bulwan spent much time and moneyshelling a new battery which Colonel Knox has had made beside the rivernear the racecourse. It is just in the middle of the flat, and the enemycan see its six embrasures and the six guns projecting from them. Thequeer thing is that these guns never reply, and under the hottest firetheir gunners neither die nor surrender. A better battery was neverbuilt of canvas and stick on the stage of Drury. It has cost thesimple-hearted Boers something like £300 in wasted shell. 

All day waggons were reported coming down from the Free State and movingsouth. They were said to carry the wives and daughters of the FreeStaters driven by Buller from their own country and content to settle inours, now that they had conquered it. A queer situation, unparalleled inwar, as far as I know. 

In the evening I heard the Liverpools and Devons were likely to beengaged in some feat of arms before midnight. So I stumbled out in thedark along the Helpmakaar road, where those two fine regiments hold themost exposed positions in camp, and I spent the greater part of thenight enjoying the hospitality of two Devon officers in theirshell-proof hut. Hour after hour we waited, recalling tales of Indianlife and Afridi warfare, or watching the lights in the Boer laagersreflected on a cloudy sky. But except for a hot wind the night waspeculiarly quiet, and not a single shell was thrown: only from time totime the sharp double knock of a rifle showed that the outposts on bothsides were alert. 

 _November 24, 1899. _

Though there was no night attack a peculiar manoeuvre was tried, butwithout success. On the sixty miles of line between here and Harrismiththe Boers have only one engine, and it struck some one how fine it wouldbe to send an empty engine into it at full speed from our side. Accordingly, when the Free State train was seen to arrive at the Boerrail-head some eight miles off, out snorted one of our sparelocomotives. Off jumped the driver and stoker, and the new kind ofprojectile sped away into the dark. It ran for about two miles withsuccess, and then dashed off the rails in going round a curve. And thereit remains, the Boers showing their curiosity by prodding it withrifles. Unless it is hopelessly smashed up, the Free State has secured asecond engine for the conveyance of its wives and daughters. 

It is a military order that all cattle going out to graze on the flatsclose to the town should be tended by armed and mounted drivers, but noone has taken the trouble to see the order carried out. The Empire inthis country means any dodge for making money without work. All work isleft to Kaffirs, coolies, or Boers. Two hundred cattle went out thismorning beyond the old camp, accompanied only by Kaffir boys, who, likeall herdsmen, love to sleep in the shade, or make the woods re-echoAmarylli's. Suddenly the Boers were among them, edging between them andthe town, and driving the beasts further and further from defence. TheKaffirs continued to sleep, or were driven with the cattle. Then theLeicester Mounted Infantry came galloping out, and, under heavy riflefire, gained the point of Star Hill, hoping to head the cattle back. Atonce all the guns commanding that bit of grassy plain opened onthem--"Faith, " "Hope, " and "Charity"--from Telegraph Hill, the guns onSurprise Hill, and Thornhill Kopje, and the two guns now on BluebankRidge. Two horses were killed, and the party, not being numerous enoughfor their task, came galloping back singly. Meantime the Boers, withtheir usual resource, had invented a new method of calling the cattlehome by planting shells just behind them. The whole enterprise wasadmirably planned and carried out. We only succeeded in saving thirty orforty out of the drove. The lowest estimate of loss is £3, 000, chieflyin transport cattle. 

But who knows whether by Christmas we shall not be glad even of a bit ofold trek-ox? Probably the Dutch hope to starve us out. At intervals allmorning they shelled the cattle near the racecourse, just for the sakeof slaughter. To-day also they tried their old game of sending gangs ofrefugee coolies into the town to devour the rations. Happily, Sir GeorgeWhite turned at that, and sent out a polite note reminding thecommandants that we live in a polite age. So in the afternoon the Boersadopted more modern methods. I had been sitting with Colonel Mellor andthe other officers of the Liverpools, who live among the rocks close tomy cottage, and they had been congratulating themselves on only losingtwo men by shell and one by enteric since Black Monday, when they helpedto cover the retirement with such gallantry and composure. I hadscarcely mounted to ride back, when "Puffing Billy" and other guns threwshells right into the midst of the men and rocks and horses. One privatefell dead on the spot. Three were mortally wounded. One rolled over andover down the rocks. Several others were badly hurt, and the bombardmentbecame general all over our end of the town. 

 _November 25, 1899. _

Almost a blank as far as fighting goes. It is said that General Hunterwent out under a flag of truce to protest against the firing upon thehospital. There were no shells to speak of till late afternoon. Amongthe usual rumours came one that Joubert had been wounded in the mouth atColenso. The Gordons held their sports near the Iron Bridge, sentriesbeing posted to give the alarm if the Bulwan guns fired. "Any moreentries for the United Service mule race? Are you ready? Sentry, are youkeeping your eye on that gun?" "Yes, sir. " "Very well then, go!" And offthe mules went, in any direction but the right, a soldier and a sailortrying vainly to stick on the bare back of each, whilst inextinguishablelaughter arose among the gods. 

 _Sunday, November 26, 1899. _

Another day of rest. I heard a comment made on the subject by one of theDevons washing down by the river. Its seriousness and the peculiarhumour of the British soldier will excuse it. "Why don't they go onbombardin' of us to-day?" said one. "'Cos it's Sunday, and they'resingin' 'ymns, " said another. "Well, " said the first, "if they do startbombardin' of us, there ain't only one 'ymn I'll sing, an' that's 'Rockof Ages, cleft for me, Let me 'ide myself in thee. '" It was spoken inthe broadest Devon without a smile. The British soldier is a classapart. One of the privates in the Liverpools showed me a diary he iskeeping of the war. It is a colourless record of getting up, going tobed, sleeping in the rain with one blanket (a grievance he alwaysmentions, though without complaint), of fighting, cutting brushwood, andbuilding what he calls "sangers and travises. " From first to last hemakes but one comment, and that is: "There is no peace for the wicked. "The Boers were engaged in putting up a new 6 in. Gun on the hills beyondRange Post, and the first number of the _Ladysmith Lyre_ was published. 

 _November 27, 1899. _

The great event of the day was the firing of the new "Long Tom. " TheBoers placed it yesterday on the hill beyond Waggon Hill, where the 60thhold our extreme post towards the west. The point is called Middle Hill. It commands all the west of the town and camp, the Maritzburg road fromRange Post on, and the greater part of Cęsar's Camp, where theManchesters are. The gun is the same kind as "Long Tom" and "PuffingBilly"--a 6 in. Creusot, throwing a shell of about 96lbs. The Boershave sixteen of them; some say twenty-three. The name is "GentlemanJoe. " He did about £5 damage at the cost of £200. From about 8 to 9 a. M. The general bombardment was rather severe. There are thirty-three guns"playing" on us to-day, and though they do not concentrate their fire, they keep one on the alert. This morning a Kaffir was working for theArmy Service Corps (being at that moment engaged in kneading a pancake), when a small shell hit him full in the mouth, passed clean through hishead, and burst on the ground beyond. I believe he was the only manactually killed to-day. 

A Frenchman who came in yesterday from the Boer lines was examined byGeneral Hunter. He is a roundabout little man, who says he came fromMadagascar into the Transvaal by Delagoa Bay, and was commandeered tojoin the Boer army. He came with a lot of German officers, who drankchampagne hard. On his arrival it was found he could not ride or shoot, or live on biltong. He could do nothing but talk French, a uselessaccomplishment in South Africa. And so they sent him into our camp tohelp eat our rations. The information he gave was small. Joubertbelieves he can starve us out in a fortnight. He little knows. We couldstill hold out for over a month without eating a single horse, to saynothing of rats. It is true we have to drop our luxuries. Butter hasgone long ago, and whisky has followed. Tinned meats, biscuits, jams--all are gone. "I wish to Heaven the relief column would hurry up, "sighed a young officer to me. "Poor fellow, " I thought, "he longs forthe letters from his own true love. " "You see, we can't get any moreQuaker oats, " he added in explanation. 

In the afternoon I took copies of the _Ladysmith Lyre_ to some of theoutlying troops. It is but a single page of four short columns, and witha cartoon by Mr. Maud. But the pathetic gratitude with which it wasreceived, proved that to appreciate literature of the highest order, youhave only to be shut up for a month under shell fire. 

 _November 28, 1899. _

Hopeful news came of British successes, both at Estcourt and Mooi River. The relief column is now thought to be at Frere, not far below Colenso. A large Boer convoy, with 800 mounted men, was seen trending awaytowards the Free State passes, perhaps retiring. Everybody was muchcheered up. The Boer guns fired now and then, but did little damage. Atnight we placed two howitzers on a nek in Waggon Hill, where the 60thhave a post south-west of the town. 

 _November 29, 1899. _

A few more Kaffirs came through from Estcourt, but brought no laternews. Their report of the fighting on the Mooi River was: "The Englishburnt the Dutch like paraffin. The Dutch have their ears down. " Did Inot say that Zulu was the future language of opera? Riding past theunfinished hospital I saw a private of the 18th Hussars cut down by ashell splinter--the only casualty to-day resulting from several hundredpounds' worth of ammunition. The two greatest events were, first, theattempt of our two old howitzers on Waggon Hill to silence the 6 in. Gunon Middle Hill beyond them. They fired pretty steadily from 4 to 5 p. M. , sending out clouds of white smoke. For their big shells (6. 3 in. ) arejust thirty years old, and the guns themselves have reached the years ofdiscretion. They fired by signal over the end of Waggon Hill in front ofthem, and it was difficult to judge their effect. The other great eventwas the kindling of a great veldt fire at the foot of Pepworth Hill, insuch a quarter that the smoke completely hid "Long Tom" for two or threehours of the morning. Captain Lambton at once detected the trick, andsent two shells from "Lady Anne" to check it. But it was none the lesssuccessful. There could be little doubt "Long Tom" was on the move, "doing a guy, " the soldiers said. We hoped he was packing up forPretoria. 

In the evening Colonel Stoneman held the first of his Shakespearereading parties, and again we found how keenly a month of shell-fireintensifies the literary sense. 

 _November 30, 1899. _

At night the Boer searchlight near Bester's, north-west of the town, swept the positions by Range Post, the enemy having been informed byspies (as usual) that we intended a forward movement before dawn. Threebattalions with cavalry and guns were to have advanced on to the openground beyond Range Post, and again attack the Boer position onBluebank, where there are now two guns. The movement was to prepare theway for the approach of any relieving force up the Maritzburg road, butabout midnight it was countermanded. Accurately informed as the Boersalways are, they apparently had not heard of this change from any of thetraitors in town, and before sunrise they began creeping up nearer toour positions by the Newcastle road on the north. They hoped either torush the place, or to keep us where we were. The 13th Battery, stationedat the railway cutting, opened upon them, and the pickets of theGloucesters and the Liverpools checked them with a very heavy fire. As Iwatched the fighting from the hill above my cottage, the sun appearedover Bulwan, and a great gun fired upon us with a cloud of purple smoke. A few minutes after there came the sharp report, the screaming rush andloud explosion, which hitherto have marked "Long Tom" alone. Oursuspicions of yesterday were true, and Pepworth Hill knows him no more. He now reigns on Little Bulwan, sometimes called Gun Hill, belowLombard's Kop. His range is nearer, he can even reach the Manchesters'sangars with effect, and he is far the most formidable of the guns thattorment us. 

[Illustration: HOSPITAL IN TOWN HALL AFTER A SHELL]

All day the bombardment was severe, as this siege goes. I did not countthe shells thrown at us, but certainly there cannot have been less than250. They were thrown into all parts of the town and forts. No onefelt secure, except the cave-dwellers. Even the cattle were shelled, andI saw three common shell and a shrapnel thrown into one little herd. Yetthe casualties were quite insignificant, till the terrible event of theday, about half-past five p. M. During the afternoon "Long Tom" hadchiefly been shelling the Imperial Light Horse camp, the balloon, andthe district round the Iron Bridge. Then he suddenly sent a shell intothe library by the Town Hall. The next fell just beyond the Town Hallitself. The third went right into the roof, burst on contact, flung itsbullets and segments far and wide over the sick and wounded below. Onepoor fellow--a sapper of the balloon section--hearing it coming, sprangup in bed with terror. A fragment hit him full in the chest, cut throughhis heart, and laid him dead. Nine others were hit, some seriouslywounded. About half of them belonged to the medical staff. The shock tothe other wounded was horrible. There cannot be the smallest doubt thatthe Boer gunners deliberately aimed at the Red Cross flag, which flieson the turret of the Town Hall, visible for miles. They have now hittwenty-one people in that hospital alone. This last shell has arousedmore hatred and rage against the whole people than all the rest of thewar put together. When next the Boers appeal for mercy, as they haveoften appealed already, it will go hard with them. Overcome with thehorror of the thing, many good Scots have refused to take part in thecelebration of St. Andrew's Day, although the Gordons held some sort offestival, and there was a drinking-concert at the Royal. But the deadwere in the minds of all. 

About midnight we again observed flash-signaling over the star-lit sky. It came from Colenso way, and was the attempt of our General to give usnews or instructions. It began by calling "Ladysmith" three times. Themessage was in cipher, and the night before a very little of it was madeout. Both messages ended with the words "Buller, Maritzburg. " It is saidone of the Mountain Battery is to be hanged in the night for signallingto the enemy. 

CHAPTER XI

FLASHES FROM BULLER

 _December 1, 1899. _

A kaffir came in to-day, bringing the strange story that the old "LongTom" of Pepworth Hill was hit full in the muzzle by "Lady Anne, " thatthe charge inside him burst, the gun was shattered, and five gunnerskilled. The Kaffir swore he himself had been employed to bury them, andthat the thing he said was true. If so, our "Lady Anne" has made thegreat shot of the war. The authorities are inclined to believe thestory. The new gun on Gun Hill is perhaps too vigorous for our oldfriend, and the rifling on his shells is too clean. Whatever the truthmay be, he gave us a lively time morning and afternoon. I think he wastrying to destroy the Star bakery, about one hundred yards below mycottage. The shells pitched on every side of it in succession. Theydestroyed three houses. A Natal Mounted Rifle riding down the street waskilled, and so was his horse. In the afternoon shrapnel came rainingthrough our eucalyptus trees and rattling on the roof, so I accepted aninvitation to tea in a beautiful hole in the ground, and learnt the joysspoken of by the poet of the new _Ladysmith Lyre_:--

 "A pipe of Boer tobacco 'neath the blue, A tin of meat, a bottle, and a few Choice magazines like _Harmsworth's_ or the _Strand_-- sometimes think war has its blessings too. "

But one wearies of the safest rabbit-hole in an afternoon tea-time, andI rode to the other end of the town trying to induce my tenth or twelfthrunner to start. So far, three have gone and not returned, one did notstart, but lay drunk for ten days, the rest have been driven back byBoers or terror. 

As I rode, the shells followed me, turning first upon Headquarters andthen on the Gordons' camp by the Iron Bridge, where they killed twoprivates in their tents. I think nothing else of importance happenedduring the day, but I was so illusioned with fever that I cannot besure. Except "Long Tom, " the guns were not so active as yesterday, butsome of them devoted much attention to the grazing cattle and theslaughter-houses. We are to be harried and starved out. 

 _December 2, 1899. _

To me the day has been a wild vision of prodigious guns spouting fireand smoke from uplifted muzzles on every hill, of mounted Boers, thickas ants, galloping round and round the town in opposite directions, offlashing stars upon a low horizon, and of troops massed at night, to nopurpose, along an endless road. But I am inspired by fever just now, andin duller moments I am still conscious that we have really had a fairlyquiet day, as these days go. 

"Long Tom" occupied the morning in shelling the camp of the ImperialLight Horse. He threw twelve great shells in rapid succession into theirmidst, but as I watched not a single horse or man was even scratched. The narrowest escape was when a great fragment flew through an open doorand cut the leg clean off a table where Mr. Maud, of the _Graphic_, satat work. Two shells pitched in the river, which half encircles the camp, and for a moment a grand Trafalgar Square fountain of yellow water shotinto the air. A house near the gaol was destroyed, but no damage to manor beast resulted. 

Soon afterwards, from the highest point of the Convent Hill, lookingsouth-west over the Maritzburg road by Bluebank, I saw several hundredBoers cantering in two streams that met and passed in oppositedirections. They were apparently on the move between Colenso and VanReenen's Pass; perhaps their movements implied visits to lovers, and apleasant Sunday. They looked just like ants hurrying to and fro upon agarden track. 

The reality of the day was a flash of brilliant light far away beyondthe low gorge, where the river turns southward. My old Scot was thefirst to see it. It was about half-past three. The message came throughfairly well, though I am told it is not very important. The importantthing is that communication with the relieving force is at lastestablished. 

About 8. 30 p. M. There was a great movement of troops, the artillerymassing in the main street, the cavalry moving up in advance, theinfantry forming up. Being ill, I fell asleep for a couple of hours, andwhen I turned out again all the troops had gone back to camp. 

 _Sunday, December 3, 1899. _

Long before sunrise I went up to the examining post on the Newcastleroad, now held by the Gloucesters instead of the Liverpools. Thepositions of many regiments have been changed, certain battalions beingnow kept always ready as a flying column to co-operate with therelieving force. Last night's movement appears to have been a kind ofrehearsal for that. It was also partly a feint to puzzle the Boers andconfuse the spies in the town. 

Signalling from lighted windows has become so common among the traitorsthat to-day a curfew was proclaimed--all lights out at half-past eight. Rumours about the hanging and shooting of spies still go the round, butmy own belief is the authorities would not hurt a fly, much less a spy, if they could possibly help it. 

Nearly all day the heliograph was flashing to us from that far-off hill. There is some suspicion that the Boers are working it as a decoy. Welost three copies of our code at Dundee, and it is significant that itwas a runner brought the good news of Methuen's successes on ModderRiver to-night. But at Headquarters the flash signals are now taken asgenuine, and the sight of that star from the outer world cheers us up. 

At noon I rode out to see the new home of the 24th Field Ambulance fromIndia. It is down by the river, near Range Post, and the silent Hindooshave constructed for it a marvel of shelter and defence. A great rampartconceals the tents, and through a winding passage fenced with massivewalls of turf you enter a chamber large enough for twenty patients, andprotected by an impenetrable roof of iron pipes, rocks, and mounds ofearth. As I admired, the Major came out from a tent, wiping his hands. He had just cut off the leg of an 18th Hussar, whose unconscious head, still on the operating table, projected from the flaps of the tent door. The man had been sitting on a rock by the river, washing his feet, while"Long Tom" was shelling the Imperial Light Horse, as I describedyesterday. Suddenly a splinter ricocheted far up the valley, and now, even if he recovers, he will have only one foot to wash. 

A civilian was killed yesterday, working in the old camp. The men oneach side of him were unhurt. So yesterday's shelling was not soharmless as I supposed. 

Early in the afternoon I met Mr. Lynch, known as one of the _DailyChronicle_ correspondents in Cuba last year. He was riding his famouswhite horse, "Kruger, " which we captured after the fight at ElandsLaagte. One side of this bony animal is dyed khaki colour with Condy'sfluid, as is the fashion with white horses. But the other side is leftwhite for want of material. Mr. Lynch showed me with pride a great whiteumbrella he had secured. Round it he had written, "Advt. Dept. _Ladysmith Lyre_" In his pocket was a bottle of whisky--a present forJoubert. And so he rode away, proposing to exchange our paper for anynews the Boers might have. Eluding the examining posts, he vanished intothe Boer lines under Bulwan, and has not re-appeared. Perhaps the Boershave not the humour to appreciate the finely Irish performance. Theyhave probably kept him prisoner or sent him to Pretoria. On hearing ofhis disappearance, Mr. Hutton, of Reuter's, and I asked leave to go outto the Boer camp to inquire after him. But the General was wroth, andwould not listen to the proposal. 

 _December 4, 1899. _

This morning the General offered the use of the heliograph to allcorrespondents in rotation by ballot. Messages were to be limited tothirty words. One could say little more than that we are doing as wellas can be expected under the circumstances. But the sun did not come outall day, and not a single word got through. 

In the afternoon I rode out to Waggon Hill, south-west of our position, to call upon the two howitzers. They are heavy squat guns about twentyyears old, their shells being marked 1880, though they are said inreality to date from 1869. They were brought up from Port Elizabethwhere the Volunteers used them, and certainly they have done fineservice here. Concealed in the hollow of a hill, they are invisible tothe enemy, and after many trials have now exactly got the range of thegreat 6 in. Gun on Middle Hill. At any moment they can plump theirshells right into his sangar, and the Boer gunners are frightened towork there. In fact, they have as effectually silenced that gun as ifthey had smashed it to pieces. They are worked by the Royal Artillery, two dismounted squadrons of the I. L. H. Acting as escort or support. ThemI found on picket at the extreme end of the hill. They told me they hadseen large numbers of Boers moving slowly with cattle and waggonstowards the Free State passes. The Boers whom I saw were going in justthe opposite direction, towards Colenso. I counted twenty-seven waggonswith a large escort creeping steadily to the south along some invisibleroad. They were carrying provisions or the ammunition to fight ourrelieving column. 

We hear to-day there will be no attempt to relieve us till the 15th, ifthen. A Natal newspaper, with extracts from the Transvaal _Standard andDiggers' News_, brought in yesterday, exaggerates our situation almostas much as the Boers themselves. If all Englishmen now besieged wereasked why most they desired relief, there is hardly one would not reply, "For the English mail!"

CHAPTER XII

THE NIGHT SURPRISE ON GUN HILL

 _December 5, 1899. _

We have now been shut up nearly five weeks. Some 15, 000 people or morehave been living on a patch of ground roughly measuring three miles eachway. On that patch of ground at the lowest estimate 3, 500 cases ofexplosive iron have been hurled at high velocity, not counting anincalculable number of the best rifle bullets. One can conceive theeffect on a Londoner's mind if a shell burst in the city. If anotherburst next day, the 'buses would begin to empty. If a hundred a dayburst for five weeks, people would begin to talk of the paralysis ofcommerce. Yet who knows? The loss of life would probably be small. Thecitizen might grow as indifferent to shells as he is to shooting stars. Here, for instance, the killed do not yet amount to thirty, the woundedmay roughly be put down at 170, of whom, perhaps, twenty have died, andall except the confirmed cave-dwellers are beginning to go about asusual, or run for cover only when it shells particularly hard. 

To-day has not been hard in any sense. It opened with a heavy Scotchmist, which continued off and on, though for the most part the outlinesof the mountains were visible. "Long Tom" of Gun Hill did not speak. Thebombardment was almost entirely left to "Puffing Billy" and "SilentSusan. " They worked away fairly steadily at intervals morning andafternoon, but did no harm to speak of. 

Again large numbers of Boers were seen moving along the south-westborders, and a Kaffir brought in the story of a great conference atBester's on the Harrismith line. Whether the conference is to decide onsome future course of action, or to compare the difference between theallied states, we do not know. Probably the Dutch will not abandon thesiege without a big fight. 

On our side we contented ourselves with sending a shot or two from"Bloody Mary" to Bulwan, but the light was bad and the shells fellshort. Sir George White now proposes to withdraw the curfew law, inhopes that any traitors may be caught red-handed. The Town Guard, consisting of young shop assistants with rifles and rosettes, aredisplaying an amiable activity. Returning from dinner last night, I wasarrested four times in the half mile. I may mention that it is nowimpossible to procure anything stronger than lime-juice or lemonade. 

 _December 6, 1899. _

"Long Tom" of Gun Hill surprised us all by beginning a fairly rapid fireabout 10 a. M. "Lady Anne" and "Bloody Mary" replied within a few momentsof each other, and the second of the two shots exploded right on the topof "Tom's" earthworks, but he fired again within a few minutes, aimingat the new balloon, the old one having been torn to pieces in awhirlwind nearly a week ago. When the balloon soared out of reach, heturned a few shots upon the town and camps, and then was silent. 

Since the siege began one farmer has steadily continued to plough hisacres on the plain near the racecourse. He reminded one of the Frenchpeasant ploughing at Sedan. His three ploughs went backwards andforwards quite indifferent to unproductive war. But to-day the Boersdeliberately shelled him at his work, the shells following him up anddown the field, and ploughing up the earth all wrong. Neither the farmernor his Kaffir labourers paid the least attention to them. The ploughdrove on, leaving the furrow behind, just as the world goes forward, nomatter how much iron two admirable nations pitch at each other's heads. 

Of course percussion-fused shells falling on ploughed land seldom burst, as a boy here found by experiment. Having found an eligible little shellin the furrows, he carried it home, and put it to soak in his washingbasin. When it had soaked long enough, he extracted the fuse andproceeded to knock out the powder with a hammer. Then the nasty thingexploded in his face, and he lost one eye and is otherwise a good dealcut about. 

In the afternoon I rode out again to the howitzers on Waggon Hill. The 6in. Gun which they command from their invisible station has not firedfor six days. The Boer gunners dare not set it to work for fear of the85lb. Shells which are fired the moment Boers are seen in the sangar. Two were fired just as I left. 

From the end of the hill there was a magnificent view of the greatprecipices in Basutoland, but hardly a Boer could be seen. Ninety-sevenwaggons had been counted the evening before, moving towards the FreeState passes, but now I saw hardly a dozen Boers. Yet if their big gunhad sent a shrapnel over us, what a bag they would have made! ColonelRhodes and Dr. Jameson were at my side, General Ian Hamilton, with LordAva and Captain Valentine were within six yards, to say nothing ofCaptain Clement Webb, of Johannesburg fame, and other Imperial LightHorse officers. 

In the evening the Natal Carbineers gave an open-air concert to a bigaudience. A good many women and girls came. As usual the sailors had thebest of it in the comic songs, but the event of the evening was "TheQueen. " Though the Boers must have seen our lights, and perhaps heardthe shout of "Send her victorious, " they did not fire, not even when theballoon, fresh charged at the gas-works, stalked past us like a ghost. 

 _December 7, 1899. _

A glorious day for the heliograph, which flashed encouragement on usfrom that far-off mountain. But little else was done. The bombardmentwas only half-hearted. Some of the shells pitched about the town, smashing walls and windows, and two of the Irish Fusiliers were woundedby shrapnel. Towards evening a lot of children in white dresses wereplaying among the rocks opposite my window, when "Puffing Billy, " ofBulwan, sent a huge shell over my roof right into the midst of them asit seemed. Fortunately it pitched a few yards too high. The poor littlecreatures scuttled away like rabbits. They are having a queereducation--a kindergarten training in physical shocks. 

During the day I rode nearly all over the camp and outposts, evengetting to Waggon Hill again to see the enemy at their old trick ofcalling the cattle home with shells. There I heard that the 6 in. Gun onMiddle Hill was removed last evening, and that was the cause of the twoshots I had heard as I left. Our gunners detected the movement too lateto prevent it, and the destination of the gun is unknown. 

 _December 8, 1899. _

The brightest day of the siege so far. The secret was admirably kept. Outside three or four of the General Staff, not a soul knew what was tohappen. At 10 p. M. On Thursday an officer left me for his bed; aquarter of an hour later he was marching with his squadron upon theunknown adventure. It was one of the finest and most successful thingsdone in the war, but what I most admire about it is its secrecy. Thehonours go to the Volunteers. One regrets the exclusion of the Regularsafter all their splendid service and cheery temper, but the Volunteersare more distinctly under Headquarter control, and it was thought bestnot to pass the orders through the brigades. Accordingly just after tencertain troops of the Imperial Light Horse, under Colonel Edwards, theNatal Carbineers, and Border Mounted Rifles, all under the command ofColonel Royston, suddenly received orders to march on foot along theHelpmakaar road. About 600 went, though only 200 of them actually tookpart in the final enterprise. 

The moon was quarter full, but clouded, giving just enough light to seethe road and no more. The small column advanced in perfect silence. Nota whisper was heard or a light seen. After long weeks of grumbling underthe steady control of Regular officers, the Volunteers are learning whatdiscipline means. The Cemetery was passed, the gorge of Bell's Spruit, the series of impregnable defences built by the Liverpools and Devonsalong the Helpmakaar road. At the end of those low hills the Devons werefound drawn up in support, or to cover retreat. General Hunter then tookcommand of the whole movement, and the march went on. Three-quarters ofa mile further the road enters rough and bushy ground, thinly coveredwith stunted thorns and mimosa. It rises gradually to the foot of thetwo great hills, Lombard's Kop and Bulwan, the road crossing the lowwooded nek between them. Lombard's Kop, which is the higher, lies in theleft. The kop itself rises to about 1, 200 or 1, 300 feet, in asquare-topped pyramid; but in front of it, forming part of the samehill, stands a broad and widely-expanded base, perhaps not higher than600 or 700 feet. It is called Little Bulwan by the natives and Gun Hillby our troops. Near its centre on the sky-line the Boers placed the new"Long Tom" 6 in. Creusot gun, throwing a 96lb. Shell, as I describedbefore, and about 150 yards to the left was a howitzer generallyidentified with "Silent Susan. " Those are the two guns which for thelast fortnight have caused most damage to the troops and town. Theircapture was the object of the night's adventure. 

Leaving two-thirds of-his force in the bush nearly half-way up theslope, General Hunter took about 100 Light Horse, nearly 100 Carbineersand Mounted Rifles, with ten sappers under Captain Fowke, and began themain ascent. Major Henderson, of the Intelligence Department, acted asguide, keeping the extreme left of the extended line pretty nearly underthe position of the big gun. So they advanced silently through the rocksand bushes under the uncertain light of the moon, which was justsetting. It was two o'clock. 

The Boer sentries must have been fast asleep. There was only onechallenge. An old man's voice from behind suddenly cried in Dutch:"Halt! who goes there?" One of the Volunteers--a Carbineer--answered, "Friend. " "Hermann, " cried the sentry. "Who's that? Wake up. It's theRed-necks" (the Boer name for English). "Hold your row!" cried theCarbineer, still in Dutch. "Don't you know your own friends?" The sentryeither ran away, or was satisfied, and the line crept on. The first partof the slope is gentle, but the face of the hill rises steep with rocks, and must be climbed on hands and knees, especially in the dark. Up wentthe 200, keeping the best line they could, and spreading out well tothe right so as to outflank the enemy when the top was reached. Withinabout 100 yards of the summit they came under rifle fire, the Boer guardhaving taken alarm. A picket in rear also began firing up at random. Itwas impossible to judge the number of the enemy. Anything between twentyand fifty was a guide's estimate at the time. The slope was so steepthat the Boers were obliged to lean over the edge and show themselvesagainst the sky as they fired. Some of our men returned their fire withrevolvers. At sixty yards from the top they were halted for the finalassault. The Volunteers, like the Boers, carry no bayonets. Their orderswere not to fire, but to club the enemy with the butt if they stood. Theorders were now repeated. Then some inspired genius (Major Carey-Davis[? Karri Davis], of the I. L. H. , it is said) raised the cry: "Fixbayonets. Give 'em cold steel, my lads. " All appreciated the joke, andthe shout rang down the line, as the men rose up and rushed to thesummit. Four bayonets were actually present, but I am not sure whetherthey were fixed or not. 

That shout was too much for the Boer gunners. They scattered and fled, heading across the broad top of the hill, even before our men hadreached the edge. Swinging round from the right, our line rushed for thebig gun. The Light Horse and the Sappers were first to reach it, ColonelEdwards himself winning the race. They found the splendid gun desertedin his enormous earthwork, the walls of which are 30 ft. To 35 ft. Thick. One Boer was found dead outside it, shot in the assault. 

Captain Fowke and his sappers at once got to work. The breech-block wasunscrewed and taken out, falling a prize to the Light Horse, who viedwith each other in carrying it home (it weighs 137lbs. ) Then gun-cottonwas thrust up the breech into the body of the gun. A vast explosion toldthe Boers that "Tom" had gone aloft, and his hulk lay in the pit, rentwith two great wounds, and shortened by a head. The sappers say itseemed a crying shame to wreck a thing so beautiful. The howitzer metthe same fate. A Maxim was discovered and dragged away, and then thereturn began. It was now three o'clock, and by four daylight comes. Thedifficulty was to get the men to move. The Carbineers especially keptcrowding round the old gun like children in their excitement. At lastthe party came scrambling down the hill, joined the supports, and allstraggled back into camp together, with exultation and joy. Theyjust, and only just, got in before the morning gave the enemy lightenough to fire on their line of march. 

[Illustration: BREECH BLOCK FROM GUN HILL]

The whole movement was planned and executed to perfection. One man waskilled, three or four were slightly wounded. Our worse loss was MajorHenderson, wounded in the shoulder and leg during the final advance. Hewent through the rest of the action, and returned with the party, butmust now retire for a week or so to Intombi Camp, for the Röntgen raysto discover the ball in his leg. It is thought to be a buckshot, or, rather, the steel ball of a bicycle bearing, fired from a sporting gun. 

General Hunter found a letter in the gun-pit. It is in Dutch, andhalf-finished, scribbled by a Boer gunner to his sister in Pretoria. Igive a literal translation:--

 "MY DEAR SISTER, --It is a month and seven days since we besieged Ladysmith, and I don't know what will happen further. We see the English every day walking about the town, and we are bombarding the place with our cannon. They have built breastworks outside the town. To attack would be very dangerous. Near the town they have set up two naval guns, from which we receive a very heavy fire we cannot stand. I think there will be much blood spilt before they surrender, as Mr. Englishman fights hard, and our burghers are a bit frightened. I should like to write more, but the sun is very hot, and, what's more, the flies are so troublesome that I don't get a chance of sitting still. --Your affectionate Brother. "

In the afternoon the General publicly congratulated the Volunteers ontheir achievement. The Boers added their generous praise--communicatedto some doctors left behind to look after our wounded, who returned tous in the course of the day, after being given a good breakfast. Unhappily the above account is necessarily second-hand. No correspondenthad a chance of going with the party. The only one who even started wassent back by General Hunter to await the column's return in aguard-room. I have been obliged to build up the story from my knowledgeof the ground and from what has been told me by Major Henderson andother officers or privates who were present. 

Before that party returned in triumph another important movement wasalready in progress, of which, I believe, I was the only outsidespectator. Just before four I was awakened by the trampling of cavalrygoing up the Newcastle road. They were the 5th Lancers, the 5th DragoonGuards, and the 18th Hussars. The 19th Hussars had been out all nightburning a kraal and distracting attention from Gun Hill. Just as thestars vanished, the 18th, followed by the others, galloped forwardtowards the Boer lines in the general direction of Pepworth Hill, thoughour main force was on the left of the direct line. General Brocklehurstwas in command. It is described at Headquarters as a reconnaissance ordemonstration. But there are rumours that more was originallyintended--perhaps an attack on the Boer rail head, with its three heavytrains this side of Modder Spruit; perhaps the destruction of the ModderSpruit Bridge. If the object was only to discover whether the Boers arestill in force, and to demonstrate the coolness of the British cavalry, the movement was entirely successful. 

Directly the cavalry advanced across the fairly open valley of Bell'sSpruit, passing Brook's Farm and making for the left of Limit Hill onthe main road, they were met by a tremendous rifle fire from everyridge and hillock and rock commanding the scene. At the same time, gunsopened upon them from Surprise Hill on our left rear, and from some spotwhich I could not locate on our left front. Still they advanced, squadron after squadron sweeping across Bell's Spruit, and up into thetortuous little valleys and ravines beyond, towards Macpherson's Farm. That was the limit. It is about two and three-quarter miles (not more)from our picket on the Newcastle road, and lies not far from the leftfoot of Pepworth Hill. The 18th Hussars, through some mistake in orders, attempted to push still further forward towards the hill, but justbefore five a general retirement began. 

Except perhaps at the close of Elands Laagte fight, or in one briefassault of Turks upon a Greek position in Epirus, I have never heardanything to compare to the rifle fire under which the withdrawal wasconducted. The range was long, but the roll of the rifle was incessant. The whole air screamed with bullets, and the dust rose in clouds overthe grass as they fell. Then the 6 in. Gun on Bulwan ("Puffing Billy")and an invisible gun on our right opened fire, throwing shells into thethick of our men wherever the ravines or rocks compelled them to crowdtogether. They came back fast, but well in hand, wheeling to right orleft at word of command, as on parade. The B Squadron of the 18th had aterrible gallop for it, right across the front of fire along a ridgesuch as Boers rejoice in. Their loss was two killed and seventeenwounded. The others only lost three or four slightly wounded. It proveshow lightly a highly-disciplined cavalry can come off where one wouldhave said hardly any could survive. 

As we retired the Boers kept following us up, though with great caution. Riding along the valleys, dismounting, and creeping from kopje to kopjeamong the stones, a large body of them came up to Brooks Farm, and beganfiring at our sangars and outposts at ranges of 800 to 1, 000 yards, thebullets coming very thick over our heads, even after we had reached theprotection of the Gloucesters' walls and earthworks. There our infantryopened fire, while two guns of the 13th Battery near the railwaycutting, and two of the 69th on Observation Hill, threw shrapnel overthe kopjes, and checked any further advance. 

But the Boers still held their positions, pouring a tremendous fire intoany of the cavalry who had still to pass within their range. As totheir number, their magazine rifles, firing five shots in rapidsuccession, makes any estimate difficult. I have heard it put as low as600. Perhaps 1, 000 is about right. I myself saw some 300 from first tolast. By seven the whole of our force was again within the lines. Splendid as the behaviour of all the cavalry was, one man seemed to meconspicuous. Towards the end of the retirement he quietly cantered outacross the most exposed bit of open ground, and went round among thekopjes as though looking for something. For a time he disappeared down agully. Then he came cantering back again, and reached the high roadalong a watercourse, which gave a little cover. At least 300 bulletsmust have been fired at him, but he changed neither his pace nordirection. Whether he was looking for wounded or only went out fordiversion I have not heard, but one could not imagine more completedisregard of death. 

The rest of the day passed quietly. The Boers gathered in crowds on GunHill and stood around the carcass of "Long Tom" as though inlamentation. His absence gave us an unfamiliar sense of security. Somecalled it dull. "Lay it on where you like, there's no pleasing you, "said the gaoler. 

 _December 9, 1899. _

The Dutch left us pretty much alone. Sickness is becoming serious. Thecases average thirty a day, chiefly enteric. A Natal newspaper only aweek old was brought in by a runner. It contained a few details ofMethuen's fight on Modder River, but hardly any English news. CaptainHeath, of the balloon, told me he could see the Boers concentrating inmuch larger camps than before, especially about Colenso and atSpringfield further up the Tugela. 

CHAPTER XIII

THE CAPTURE OF SURPRISE HILL

 _Sunday, December 10, 1899. _

Just as we were lazily washing our clothes and otherwise enjoying theSabbath rest and security at about eight in the morning, "PuffingBilly, " of Bulwan, began breaking the Fourth Commandment withextraordinary recklessness and rapidity. He sent nine of his shells intothe town, as fast as he could fire them. "Bloody Mary" flung two overhis head and one into his earthwork, but he paid no attention to herprotests. The fact was, the 5th Dragoon Guards, trusting to Boerprinciples, had left their horses fully exposed to view instead ofleading them away under cover as usual at sunrise. The gunners, probablyGermans, thought this was presuming too much on their devotion to theOld Testament, and set their scruples aside for twenty minutes underthe paramount duty of slaughtering men and horses. Happily no seriousharm was done, and the rest of the day was as quiet as Sunday usuallyis. 

On our side we were engaged all day in preparing a new home for "LadyAnne" on Waggon Hill, south-west of the town. The position, as I haveoften described, gives a splendid view of the country towards Basutolandand the Free State mountains. It also commands some four miles of theMaritzburg road towards Colenso and the guns which the Boers have set upthere to check the approach of a relieving force. By late afternoon theenormous sangar was almost finished. The gun will be carried over on awaggon at night. I watched the work in progress from Rifleman's Post, animportant outpost and fort, held by the 2nd K. R. R. (60th). It alsocommands the beginning of the Maritzburg road, where it passes acrossthe "Long Valley, " between Range Post and Bluebank. 

The doctors and ambulance men who went out after the brief cavalryaction on Friday morning report they were fired on while carrying thedead and wounded in the dhoolies. The Boers retaliate with a similarcharge against us in Modder River. Unhappily, there can be no doubt thatone of our doctors was heavily fired on whilst dressing a man's woundson the field. 

 _December 11, 1899. _

Soon after two in the night I heard rifle-firing, then two explosions, and heavier rifle-firing again, apparently two or three miles away. Itwas too dark to see anything, even from the top of the hill, but in themorning I found we had destroyed another gun--the 4. 7 in. Howitzer onSurprise Hill. For weeks past it had been one of the most troublesomeguns of the thirty-two that surround us. It had a long range andaccurate aim. Its position commanded Observation Hill, part of theNewcastle road, Cove Hill, and Leicester Post, the whole of the old campand all the line of country away to Range Post and beyond. It was thisgun that shelled the 18th Hussars out of their camp and continuallyharassed the Irish Fusiliers. It was constantly dropping shells into the69th Battery and on the K. R. R. At King's Post. Surprise Hill is asquare-topped kopje, from 500 feet to 600 feet high, between Thornhill'sKopje and Nicholson's Nek. It overlooks Bell's Spruit and the scene of"Mournful Monday's" worst disaster. From Leicester Post, where two gunswere always kept turned on it, the distance is 4, 100 yards--just thefull range of our field guns. From Observation Hill it is hardly 2, 500yards. The destruction of its gun was therefore of the highestimportance. 

At ten o'clock last night four companies of the 2nd Rifle Brigadestarted from their camp on Leicester Post, with six sappers, under Mr. Digby Jones, and five gunners under Major Wing, of the 69th Battery. Thewhole was commanded by Colonel Metcalfe of the battalion. They marchedacross the fairly open grassland toward Observation Hill, and therehalted because the half-moon was too bright. About midnight they againadvanced, as the moon was far down in the west. They marched in fourstowards the foot of the hill, but had to cross the Harrismith Railwaytwo deep through a gap where the wire fences were cut with nippers. Onedeep donga and a shallower had to be crossed as well. At the foot of thehill two companies were left, extended in a wedge shape, the apexpointing up the hill. The remaining two companies began the ascent. Thefront of the hill is steep and covered with boulders, but is greenerthan most South African hills. About half-way up half a company was leftin support. The small assaulting party then climbed up in extended line. Not a word was spoken, and the Boers gave no sign till our men werewithin twenty yards of the top. Then a sentry cried, "Who's there? Who'sthere?" in English, and fired. Our men fixed swords and charged to thetop with a splendid cheer. They made straight for the sangar and formedin a circle round it, firing outwards without visible target. To theirdismay they found the gun-pit empty. The gun had been removed perhapsfor security, perhaps for the Sabbath rest. But it was soon discovered afew yards off, and the sappers set to work with their gun-cotton. Meantime a party was sent to the corner of the hill on the left to clearout a little camp, where the Boer gunners slept and had their mealsunder a few little trees. They fired into it, and then carriedeverything away, some of the men bringing off some fine blankets, whichthey are very proud of this morning. The great-coats were in such adisgusting condition that the soldiers had to leave them. 

The fuse was long in going off. Some say the first fuse failed, somethat it was very slow. Anyhow, the party was kept waiting on thehill-top almost half an hour, when the whole thing ought to have beendone in a quarter. Those extra fifteen minutes cost many lives. At lastthe shock of the explosion came. Two great holes were made in the gun'srifling near the muzzle, and the breech was blown clean out, the screwbeing destroyed. Major Wing secured the sight, the sponge, and an oldwideawake, which the gunner used always to wave to him very politelyjust before he fired. Some say there was a second explosion, and I heardit myself, but it may have been a Boer gun which threw one round ofshrapnel high over the hill, the bullets pattering down harmlessly, andonly making a blue bruise when they hit. As soon as the sappers andgunners had made sure the gun was destroyed, the order to retire wasgiven, and the line began climbing down in the darkness. The halfcompany in support was taken up, the two companies at the foot werereached by some, when a heavy fire flashed out of the darkness on bothsides. The Boers, evidently by a preconcerted scheme, were crowding infrom Thornhill's farm on our left--Mr. Thornhill, by the way, was actingas our guide--and from Bell's farm on our right. They came creepingalong the dongas, right into the midst of our men, as well as cuttingoff retreat. Then it was that we wanted that quarter of an hour lost bythe fuse. The men hastily formed up into their four companies and beganthe retirement in succession. Each company had simply to fight its waythrough with the sword-bayonet. They did not fire much, chiefly for fearof hitting each other, which unfortunately happened in some cases. TheBoers took less precaution, and kept up a tremendous fire from bothflanks, many of the bullets probably hitting their own men. Undershelter of the dongas some got right among our companies and fired froma few yards' distance. 

Then came the horror of a war between two nations familiar with the samelanguage. "Second R. B. ! Second R. B. !" shouted our fellows as a watchwordand rallying-cry. "Second R. B. !" shouted every Boer who was challengedor came into danger. "B Company here!" cried an officer. "B Companyhere!" came the echo from the Dutch. "Where's Captain Paley?" asked aprivate. "Where's Captain Paley?" the question passed from Boer to Boer. In the darkness it was impossible to distinguish friend from foe. Theonly way was to stoop down till you saw the edge of a broad-brimmedhat. Then you drove your bayonet through the man, if he did not shootyou first. Many a poor fellow was shot down by some invisible figure whowas talking to him in English and was taken for a friend. One Boer firedupon a private at two or three yards--and missed him! The private sprangupon him. "I surrender! I surrender!" cried the Boer, throwing down hisrifle. "So do I, " cried the private, and plunged his bayonet through theman's stomach and out at his back. 

One by one the companies cut their way into the open ground by therailway, and to Observation Hill, where the enemy dare not pursue. Byhalf-past three a. M. The greater part were back at Leicester Post again. It was a triumph, even for the Rifle Brigade: as fine and gallant anachievement as could be done. But the cost was heavy. 

Eleven were dead, including one or perhaps two officers. Six areprisoners. Forty-three are wounded, some severely. The ambulance was outall the morning bringing them in. Again they complained that the Boersfired on them and wanted to keep them prisoners. Nothing has soembittered our troops against the enemy as this continual firing on thewounded and hospitals. It was sad in any case to see the stretcherscoming home this morning. Meeting a covered dhoolie, I asked the bearerswho was in it. "Captain Paley, " they said, and put him down for water. He had been reported missing. In fact, he had stayed behind to lookafter some of his men who were down or lost. He is known for hisexcellent government of a district in Crete. I gave him the water. Herecognised me at once and was conscious, but his singularly blue eyeslooked out of a deadly yellow and bloodless face, and his hands seemedto have the touch of death on them. When I said I was sorry, heanswered, "But we got the gun. " He was shot through the chest, though, as he pointed out, he was not spitting blood. Another bullet had enteredthe left hip and passed out, breaking the right hip-bone. That is thedangerous wound. He said he did not feel much pain. 

The wounded were taken down to the tents set up in the ravine of thePort Road between the Headquarters and the old camp. That is the mainhospital (11th and 18th) since the wounded were shifted out of the TownHall, because the Boers shelled it so persistently. Since the Genevaflag was removed from the hall's turret not a single shell has beenfired near the building. The ravine--"kloof" is the word here, like"cleft"--is fairly safe from shells, though the Bulwan gun has done itsbest to get among the tents ever since spies reported the removal. 

It is fully exposed to those terrible dust storms which I described inan earlier letter. In the afternoon we had one of the worst I have seen. The sand and dust and dry filth, gathered up by the hot west wind fromthe plain of the old camp, swept in a continuous yellow cloud along theroad and down into the ravine. It blotted out the sun, it blinded horsesand men, it covered the wounded with a thick layer. I have described itshorrible effects before. Imagine what it is like to have a hospitalunder such conditions, practically unsheltered--to extract bullets, tostaunch blood, to amputate. One admires the Boers as a race fighting fortheir freedom, soon to be overthrown on behalf of a mongrel pack ofspeculators and other scoundrels. But I did not like them any betterwhen I saw our wounded in the dust-storm to-day, and remembered why theywere there. 

In the afternoon a white woman was killed by a shell as she was washingclothes in the river. She is the first woman actually killed, thoughothers have died from premature child birth. I don't know which gunkilled her, but parts of the town and river hitherto safe were to-dayexposed to fire from the 6 in. Gun which was removed from Middle Hill afew days ago, and is now set up on Thornhill's farm, due west of thetown. It commands a very wide district--the old camp, the Long Valleywhich the Maritzburg road crosses, the Great Plain behind Bluebank, andmost of our western positions. It began firing early in the morning andcontinued at intervals all day. For an hour or two people were surprisedat seeing a free balloon sailing away towards Bulwan. It turned out tobe one of Captain Heath's dummies, which had got away. He tells me itwill be entirely useless to the enemy in any case. 

 _December 12, 1899. _

I was so overcome with fever that again my aspect of things was notquite straight. After dawn the Bulwan gun shelled the Star bakery, closeto my cottage, and the stones and earth splashing on my roof woke me uptoo early. Another cottage was wrecked. The heat was intense, but thesun so splendid that I have hopes my heliograph message got through atlast. None have gone yet, but I took up my sixth version in faith to thesignal station near the Convent. On inquiry about Captain Paley I foundhe had been sent down to Intombi Camp with other serious cases, but thedoctors think he has a chance. Lieut. Bond, who has a similar wound, went with him. Lieut. Fergusson, who died, had four bad wounds, threefrom bullets and one from a small shell of the automatic "pom-pom, "which shattered his thigh. The rest of the day was a delirium of fevertill the evening, when the wind suddenly changed to east, and it becamecool and then bitterly cold. At half-past eight the proposed FlyingColumn, which is to co-operate with the relieving force, had a kind ofdress rehearsal, all turning out with field equipment and transport forthree days' rations. The Irish Fusiliers under Major Churcher formed thehead of the column at Range Post, a body of Natal Volunteers comingnext, followed by the Gordons. I waited at Range Post in the eager andrefreshing wind till the column gradually dissolved into its camps, andall was still. By eleven the rehearsal was over and I rode back to myend of the town. To-night the civilians of the Town Guard went on picketby the river, and bore their trials boldly, though one of them got acrick in the neck. 

 _December 13, 1899. _

The early part of the day was distinguished by a violent fire from thebig gun of Bulwan upon the centre of the town and the riverside camps. "Lady Anne" answered, for she has not yet been removed to her destinedstation on Waggon Hill. In the intervals of their fire we coulddistinctly hear big guns far away near Colenso and the Tugela River. They were chiefly English guns, for the explosion followed directly onthe report, proving they were fired towards us. The firing stopped about10 a. M. 

All morning our two howitzers, which have been brought down from WaggonHill, pounded away at their old enemy, the 6 in. Gun now placed onTelegraph Hill as I described. They are close down by the Klip River, west of the old camp. Their object is to drive the gun away as theydrove him before, and certainly they gave him little rest. He had hardlya chance of returning the fire; but when he had his shot was terriblyeffective, coming right into the top of our earthworks. Equallyinteresting was the behaviour of two Boers who crept down fromThornhill's farm among the rocks and began firing into our right rear. Idetected them by the little puffs of white smoke, for both hadMartini's. But no one took the trouble to shoot them, though theyharassed our gunners. If there had been 50 instead of two they mighthave driven out our handful of men and tumbled the guns into the river. For we had no support nearer than the steep top of King's Post. HappilyBoers do not do such things. 

A Kaffir brought in a newspaper only two days old. It said Gatacre hadsuffered a reverse on the Free State frontier. There was nothing aboutthe German Emperor, and no football news. 

In the late afternoon I rode up to the Manchesters' lines on Cęsar'sCamp, our nearest point to Colenso. But they knew no more than the restof us, except that an officer had counted the full tale of guns fired inthe morning--137. The view on all sides was as varied and full ofgrowing association as usual, but had no special interest to-day, and Ihurried back to inquire again after Mr. George Steevens, who is downwith fever, to every one's regret. 

 _December 14, 1899. _

After the high hopes of the last few days we seem to be falling back, and to get no nearer to the end. Very little firing was heard fromColenso. The Bulwan gun gave us his morning salute of ten big shells invarious parts of the town. They made some troublesome pits in the roads, and one destroyed a house, but nobody was killed. 

The howitzers and the Telegraph Hill Gun pounded away at each otherwithout much effect. Sickness is now our worst enemy. Next to sicknesscomes want of forage for the horses. The sick still average thirty aday, and there were 320 cases of enteric at Intombi Camp last night. Mr. Steevens has it, and his friends were busy all morning, moving him tobetter quarters. Major Henderson is about again. The Röntgen Rays didnot discover the bicycle shot in his leg, and the doctors have decidedto leave it there. 

It was disappointing to hear that the Kaffir runner I sent with anaccount of the night attack on Surprise Hill had been captured by theBoers and robbed of his papers. I had hopes of that boy; he wore notrousers. But it is perhaps unsafe to judge character from dress alone. This runner business is heart-breaking. I tried to make up by gettinganother short heliogram through, but the sun was uncertain, and thereceivers on the distant mountain sulky and wayward. They showed onefaint glimmer of intelligence, and then all was dark again. 

In the heat of the day a four-wheeled hooded cart drove from the Boerlines under a white flag bringing a letter for the General. The envoywas a Dutchman from Holland. He was met outside our lines by LieutenantFanshawe, of the 19th Hussars, who conversed with him for about twohours, till the answer returned. Seated under the shade of the cart, heenjoyed the enemy's hospitality in brandy and soda, biltong, and Boerbiscuit. "But for that white rag, " said the Dutchman, "we two would betrying to kill each other. Very absurd!" He went on to repeat how muchthe Boers admired the exploits of the night attacks. "If you had gonefor the other guns that first night, you would have got them all. " Hesaid the gunners on Gun Hill were all condemned to death. He examinedthe horse and its accoutrements, thinking them all very pretty, butmaintaining the day for cavalry was gone. He was perfectly intimate withthe names and character of all the battalions here. Of the Boer army hesaid it contained all nationalities down to Turks and Jews. He had nodoubt of their ultimate success, and looked forward to Christmas dinnerin Ladysmith. What we regard as our victories, he spoke of as ourdefeats. Even Elands Laagte he thought unsuccessful. Finally, after allcompliments, he drove away, bearing a private letter from Mr. Fanshaweto be posted through Delagoa Bay and Amsterdam. 

 _December 15, 1899. _

In my own mind I had always fixed to-day as the beginning of ourdeliverance from this grotesque situation. It may be so still. Veryheavy firing was heard down Colenso way from dawn till noon. ColonelDowning, commanding the artillery, said some of it was our field-guns, and it seemed nearer than two days ago. 

The Bulwan gun gave us his customary serenade from heaven's gate. He didrather more damage than usual, wrecking two nice houses just below mycottage. One was a boarding house full of young railway assistants, whohad narrow escapes. The brother gun on Telegraph Hill was also veryactive, not being so well suppressed by our howitzers as before. When Iwas waiting at Colonel Rhodes' cottage by the river, it dropped a shellclear over Pavilion Hill close beside it. Otherwise the Boer gunsbehaved with some modesty and discretion. 

In the morning I rode up to Waggon Hill, and found that "Lady Anne" hadat last arrived there, and was already in position. She was hauled up inthe night in three pieces, each drawn by two span of oxen. Some thirtyyards in front of her, in an emplacement of its own, stands the 12lb. Naval gun which has been in that neighbourhood for some days. Both arecarefully concealed, even the muzzles being covered up with earth andstones. They both command the approach to the town across the LongValley by the Maritzburg road, as well as Bluebank or Rifleman's Ridgebeyond, and Telegraph Hill beyond that. 

While I was on the hill I saw one mounted and four dismounted Boerscapture five of our horses which had been allowed to stray in grazing. 

In the afternoon a South African thunderstorm swept over us. In a fewminutes the dry gully where the main hospital tents are placed, as Idescribed, became a deep torrent of filth. The tents were three feetdeep in water, washing over the sick. "Sure it's hopeless, hopeless!"cried unwearying Major Donegan, the medical officer in charge. "I'vejust seen me two orderlies swimmin' away down-stream. " The sick, wet andfilthy as they were, had to be hurried away in dhoolies to the chapelsand churches again. They will probably be safe there as long as theGeneva flag is not hoisted. 

 _December 16, 1899. _

This is Dingaan's Day, the great national festival of the Boers. Itcelebrates the terrible battle on the Blood River, sixty-one years ago, when Andreas Pretorius slaughtered the Zulus in revenge for theirmassacre of the Dutch at Weenen, or Lamentation. In honour of theoccasion, the Boers began their battle earlier than usual. Beforesunrise "Puffing Billy" of Bulwan exploded five 96lb. Shells withinfifty yards of my humble cottage, disturbing my morning sleep after anight of fever. I suppose he was aiming at the bakery again, but hekilled nobody and only destroyed an outbuilding. Farther down the townunhappily he killed three privates. He also sent another shell into theTown Hall, and blew Captain Valentine's horse's head away, as the poorcreature was enjoying his breakfast. After seven o'clock hardly a gunwas fired all day. Opinion was divided whether the Boers were keepingholiday for that battle long ago, or were burying their dead afterBuller's cannonade of yesterday. But raging fever made me quiteindifferent to this and all other interests. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE SEASON OF PEACE AND GOODWILL

 _Sunday, December 17, 1899. _

We are sick of the siege. Enteric and dysentery are steadily increasing. Food for men and horses is short and nasty. Ammunition must be used withcare. The longing for the English mail has almost become a disease. Onlytwo days more, we thought, or perhaps we could just stick it out foranother week. Now we are thrown back into vague uncertainty, and seem nonearer to the end. 

All the correspondents were summoned at noon to the Intelligence Office. That the Intelligence should tell us anything at all was sounprecedented that we felt the occasion was solemn. Major Altham thenread out the General Order, briefly stating that General Buller hadfailed in "his first attack at Colenso, " and we could not be relievedas soon as was expected. All details were refused. We naturally presumethe situation is worse than represented. Each of us was allowed to senda brief heliogram, balloting for turn. Then we came away. We were toldit was our duty to keep the town cheerful. 

The suffering among the poor who had no stores of their own to fall backupon is getting serious. Bread and meat are supplied in rations at afair and steady price. Colonel Ward and Colonel Stoneman have seen tothat, and as far as possible they check the rapacity of the Colonialcontractor. But hundreds have no money left at all. They receiveGovernment rations on a mere promise to pay. Outside rations, prices arerunning up to absurdity. Chickens and most nice things are not to beobtained. But in the market last week eggs were half a guinea a dozen, potatoes 1s. 6d. A pound, carrots 5s. , candles 1s. Each, a tin of milk6s. , cigarettes 5s. A dozen. Nothing can be bought to drink, exceptlemonade and soda-water, made with enteric germs. The Irishman drinksthe rinsings of his old whisky bottles. One man gave £5 yesterday for abottle of whisky, but then he was a contractor, and our necessity is hisopportunity. Of our necessity the Colonial storekeepers and dealers ofall kinds are making their utmost. Having spent their lives hitherto in"besting" every one on a small scale, they are now besting the Britishnation on the large. Happily their profit is not so easily made now asin the old days of the Zulu war, when a waggon-load of food would besold three times over on the way to the front and never reached thetroops at all in the end. A few days ago one contractor thought the Armywould have to raise its price for mealies (maize) to 30s. A sack. He atonce bought up all the mealies in the town at 28s. , only to discoverthat the army price was 25s. So, under the beneficent influence ofmartial law he was compelled to sell at that price, and made a fineloss. The troops received this morning's heavy news with cheerfulstoicism; not a single complaint, only tender regrets about the whiskyand Christmas pudding we shall have to do without. 

 _December 18, 1899. _

How is one to treat an indeterminate situation? The siege is already toolong for modern literature. It was all very well when we thought it mustend by Christmas at the furthest. But since last Sunday we are thrownback into the infinite, and can fix no limit on which hope can buildeven a rainbow. So now the only way to make this account of our queerposition readable will be to dwell entirely in the glaring events ofadventure or bloodshed, and let the flat days slide, though the sadnessand absurdity of any one of them would fill a paper. 

We have had such luck in escaping shells that we grow careless. TheBulwan gun began his random fire, as usual, before breakfast. He threwabout fifteen shells, but most of us are quite indifferent to the 96lb. Explosive thunder-bolts dropping around us. Indeed, fourteen of them didlittle harm. But just one happened to drop in the Natal Carbineer lineswhile the horses were being groomed. Two men were killed outright andthree mortally wounded. A sapper was killed 200 yards away. Three otherswere wounded. Eleven horses were either killed or hopelessly disabled. All from one chance shell, while fourteen hit nobody! One man had bothlegs cut clean off, and for a time continued conscious and happy. Fiveseparate human legs lay on the ground, not to speak of horses' legs. Theshell burst on striking a horse, they say (it was shrapnel), and threwforwards. While the Carbineers were carrying away one of their deadanother shell burst close by. They rightly dropped the body and layflat. The only fragment which struck at all almost cut the dead man inhalf. Another shell later in the day killed a Kaffir woman and herhusband in a back garden off the main street. Several women have diedfrom premature childbirth owing to shock. 

Most of my day was again spent in trying to get a Kaffir runner for atelegram, but none would go. My last two had failed. All are gettingfrightened. In the evening I rode out to Waggon Hill and found "LadyAnne" and the 12lb. Naval gun had gone back to their old homes. They arenot wanted to keep open the approach for Buller now, and perhaps CaptainLambton was afraid the position might be rushed. 

 _December 19, 1899. _

Another black day. Details of Buller's defeat at Colenso began to leakout and discouraged us all. It would be much better if the truth aboutany disaster, no matter how serious, were officially published. Nowevery one is uncertain and apprehensive. We waste hours in questions andspeculations. To-day there was something like despair throughout thecamp. The Boers are putting up new guns on Gun Hill in place of those wedestroyed. Through a telescope at the Heliograph Station I watched themen working hard at the sangar. Two on the face of the hill wereevidently making a wire entanglement. On Pepworth Hill the sappers thinkthey are putting up one of the 8. 7 in. Guns, four of which the Boers areknown to have ordered, though it is not certain whether they receivedthem. They throw a 287lb. Shell. We are all beginning to feel the pinchof hunger. Bit by bit every little luxury we had stored up hasdisappeared. Nothing to eat or drink is now left in any of the shops;only a little twist tobacco. 

What is even worse, the naval guns have too little ammunition to answerthe enemy's fire; so that the Boers can shell us at ease and draw innearer when they like. The sickness increases terribly. Major Donegansent out thirty-six cases of enteric to Intombi Camp from the divisionaltroops' hospital alone. Probably over fifty went in all. Everything nowdepends on Buller's winning a great victory. It seems incredible thattwo British armies should be within twenty miles of each other andpowerless to move. 

I cannot induce a Kaffir runner to start now. Even the IntelligenceOfficer cannot do it. The heliograph has failed me, too. Sunday'smessage has not gone, and this afternoon was clouded with storms andrain. The temperature fell 30°. Yesterday it was 102°; the day before106° in the shade. 

 _December 20, 1899. _

From dawn till about seven the mutter of distant guns was heard nearColenso. But no news came through, for the sky was clouded nearly allday long. The new 4. 7 in. Howitzer which the Boers have put up onSurprise Hill opened fire in the morning, and will be as dangerous asits predecessor which we blew up. From every point of the compass itshelled hard nearly all day. I connect this feverish activity with theapparition of a chaise and four seen driving round the Boer outposts, and to-day quite visible on the Bulwan. Four outriders accompany it, andqueer little flags are set up where it halts. Can the black-coated oldgentleman inside be Oom Paul himself? It is significant that the big gunof Bulwan did some extraordinary shooting during the day. It threw oneshell right into the old camp; another sheer over the Irish at RangePost; both were aimed at nothing but simply displayed the gun's fullrange; another pointed out the position of the Naval battery, and whilstI was at lunch in the town, another whizzed past and carried away oneside of the Town Hall turret. I envy the gunner's feelings, though forthe moment I thought he had killed my horse at the door. The Town Hallis now really picturesque, just the sort of ruin visitors will expect tosee after a bombardment. With a little tittifying it will be worththousands to the Colonials. 

[Illustration: A PICTURESQUE RUIN. ]

The day was cool and cloudy; fair shelling weather, but bad forheliographs. So my Christmas message is still delayed. A certainlieutenant (whom I know, but may not name) went out under flag of trucewith a letter to the Boer General, and was admitted even into SchalkBurger's tent. The Boer gave him some details of Buller's disaster lastFriday, and of the loss of the ten guns, which they said came up withinheavy rifle fire and were disabled. They especially praised one officerwho refused to surrender, fired all his revolver' cartridges, drew hissword, and would have fallen had not the Boers attacked him only withthe butt, determined to spare the life of so brave a man. I give thestory: its truth will be known by this time. 

Sickness continues. There are 900 cases of enteric in Intombi. A sisterfrom the camp came and besought Colonel Stoneman with tears to stop theshameful robbery of the sick which goes on in the camp. The blame, ofcourse, does not lie with him or the authorities here. The supplies aresent out regularly day by day. It is in the careless or corruptdistribution that the sick are robbed and murdered by a mob of cowardlyColonials of the rougher class, who had not enough courage to stay inthe town, and now turn their native talent for swindling to the plunderof brave men who are suffering on their behalf. 

A deputation of mayor and town councillors waited on Colonel Wardto-day. The petitioners humbly prayed that the bathing parties ofsoldiers below the town on Sundays might be stopped, because theyshocked the feelings of the women. For a mixture of hypocrisy andheartlessness I take that deputation to be unequalled. The soldiers areexposed all the week long, day and night, to sun and cold and dirt, onrocks and hill-tops where it is impossible even to dip their hands inwater. On Sunday the Boers seldom fire. The men are marched down incompanies under the officers to bathe, and to any decent man or womanthe sight of their pleasure is one of the few joys of the campaign. Butthose who think nothing of charging a soldier 6d. For a penny bottle ofsoda-water, or 2s. For twopenn'orth of cake, tremble for the feelings oftheir wives and daughters. Why do the women go to look? as Colonel Wardasked, in his indignant refusal even to listen to the petition. Sundayis the one day when they can stay at home with safety, and leave theirhusbands to skulk in the river holes if they please. 

 _December 21, 1899. _

"Puffing Billy, " of Bulwan, distinguished himself this morning bysending one shot into Colonel Ward's house and the next into thegeneral's just beyond. In Colonel Ward's was a live Christmas turkey, over which a sentry is posted day and night. At first the rumour spreadthat the bird was mortally wounded; its thigh fractured, its liverpenetrated. But about midday public alarm was allayed by the news thatthe invaluable creature could be seen strutting about and stiffening itsfeathers as usual. It had not even suffered from shock. The second shotwent through Sir Henry Rawlinson's office, which he had just left, andshattered the Headquarters' larder, depriving the Staff of butter forthe rest of the siege. It has made a model ruin for future sightseers. Unhappily the general was ill in bed with slight fever, and had to becarried to another house up the hill in a dhoolie. This may haveencouraged the Boers to think they had killed him. 

It was again a bad day for the heliograph, and the Boers have purposelykindled a veldt fire across the line of light. But I think I got throughmy thirty words of Christmas greeting to the _Chronicle_. I tried invain all day for a Kaffir runner, but in the late afternoon I rode awayover the plain, past the racecourse, and through the thorns at the footof Cęsar's Camp, till I almost came in touch with the enemy's piquets atIntombi. I saw a flock of long-billed waders, like small whimbrel, agreat variety of beautiful little doves, and many of that queer bird thenatives call Sakonboota, whose tail grows so long in the breeding seasonthat his little wings can hardly lift it above the ground, and heflutters about in the breeze like a badly made kite. Riding back atsunset over the flat I felt like Montaigne when he desired to wear awayhis life in the saddle. The difference is that in the end I may haveto eat my own horse. The shells from four guns kept singing theirevening hymn above my head as I cantered along. 

[Illustration: HEADQUARTERS AFTER A 96LB. SHELL]

 _December 22, 1899. _

The morning opened with one of those horrible disasters which more thanbalance our general good luck. The Bulwan gun began his morning shellrather later than usual. His almost invariable programme is to fire fiveor six shots at the bakery or soda-water shed beside my cottage; then togive a few to the centre of the town, and to finish off with half adozen at the Light Horse and Gordons down by the Iron Bridge. Havingearned his breakfast, he usually stops then, and cools down a bit. Theperformance is so regular that when he has finished with our end of thetown the men cease to take precautions even at the sound of the whistleor bugle which gives notice of danger whenever the special sentry seesthe gun flash. 

But this morning the routine was changed. Having waked me up as usualwith the crash of shells close by on my left, the gun was turned downtown, smashed into a camp or two without damage, and then suddenlywhipped round on his pivot and sent a shell straight into theGloucester lines, about 300 yards away to my right. It pitched just onthe top of a traverse at the foot of the low hill now held by theDevons. The men were quite off their guard, busy with breakfast andsharing out the kettles. In an instant five lay dead and twelve werewounded. The shell burst so close that three of the dead were horriblyscorched. One got covered by a tarpaulin, and was not found at first. His body was split open, one leg was off, his head was burnt and smashedto pulp. The cries of the wounded told me at once what had happened. Summoned by telephone, the dhoolies came quickly up and bore them away, together with the remains of the dead. Three of the wounded died beforethe night. Eight dead and nine wounded--it is worse than the disaster tothe King's (Liverpools) almost exactly on the same spot a few weeks ago. In the middle of the morning much the same thing nearly happened to the5th Lancers. The 6 in. Gun on Telegraph Hill, usually more noisy thanharmful, was banging away at the Old Camp and the Naval battery on CoveHill, when one of the shells ricocheted off the hill-top, and plungedinto the Lancers' camp at the foot. Four officers were hit, includingthe colonel, who had a bit of finger blown off, and a segment throughboth legs. A sergeant lost an eye. One officer ducked his head and got afragment straight through his helmet. The shell was a chance shot, butthat made it no better. The men are sick of being shot at like rabbits, and sicker still of running into rabbit holes for shelter. The worst ofall is that we can no longer reply for fear of wasting ammunition. 

There was no sound of Buller's guns all day. I induced another Kaffir tomake the attempt of running the Boer lines. Mr. McCormick, a Colonialcorrespondent, also started. I should go myself, but have no wish to beshut up in Pretoria for the rest of the campaign, cut off from allletters, and more useless even than I am here. So I spent the afternoonwith others, building a sand-bag fort round the tent where Mr. Steevensis to be nursed, beside the river bank. The five o'clock shells camepretty close, pitching into the Light Horse camp and the main wateringford. But the tent itself is fairly safe. The feeding of the horses isour greatest immediate difficulty. Every bit of edible green is beingseized and turned to account. I find vine-leaves a fair substitute forgrass, but my horses are terribly hungry all the same. 

 _December 23, 1899. _

The bombardment was violent at intervals, and some hundreds of shellsmust have been thrown at us. But there was no method or concentration inthe business. 

Buller's guns were heard for about two hours in the morning, and wildrumours filled the air. Roberts and Kitchener were coming out. Bullerwas across the Tugela. Within the week our relief was certain. At nightthe 18th Hussars gave another concert among the rocks by the riverside. In the midst of a comic song on the inner meaning of Love came a soundas of distant guns. The inner meaning of Love was instantly forgotten. All held their breaths to listen. But it was only some horses comingdown to water, and we turned to Love again, while the waning moon roselate beside Lombard's Kop, red and shapeless as a potsherd. 

 _December 24, 1899. _

Nothing disturbed the peace of Christmas Eve except three small shellsthrown into the town about five o'clock tea-time, for no apparentreason. The main subject of interest was the chance of getting anyChristmas dinner. Yesterday twenty-eight potatoes were sold in themarket for 30s. A goose fetched anything up to £3, a turkey anything upto £5. But the real problem is water. The river is now a thick stream ofbrown mud, so thick that it cannot be filtered unless the mud is firstprecipitated. We used to do it with alum, but no alum is left now. Evensoda-water is almost solid. 

 _December 25, 1899. _

The Boer guns gave us an early Christmas carol, and at intervals all daythey joined in the religious and social festivities. Our north end ofthe town suffered most, and we beguiled the peaceful hours in diggingout the shells that had nearly killed us. They have a marketable value. One perfect specimen of a 96lb. Shell from Bulwan fell into a softflower bed and did not burst or receive a scratch. I suppose it cost theBoers about £35, and it would still fetch £10 as a secondhand article. Abrother to it pitched into a boarding house close by us, and blew thewhole gable end sky high. Unhappily two of the inmates were wounded, anda horse killed. 

But such little contretemps as shells did not in the least interferewith the Christmas revels. About 250 children are still left in the townor river caves (where one or two have recently been born), and it wasdetermined they should not be deprived of their Christmas tree. Thescheme was started and organised by Colonel Rhodes and Major "Karri"Davis, of the Imperial Light Horse. Four enormous trees were erected inthe auction rooms and decked with traditional magnificence and toysransacked from every shop. At half-past eight p. M. Fairyland opened. Agigantic Father Christmas stalked about with branches of pine and snowycap (the temperature at noon was 103deg. In the shade). Each child had aticket for its present, and joy was distributed with military precision. When the children had gone to their dreams the room was cleared for adance, and round whirled the khaki youths with white-bloused maidens intheir arms. It was not exactly the Waterloo Ball with sound of revelryby night, but I think it will have more effect on the future of therace. 

Other festivities, remote from the unaccustomed feminine charm, were aseries of mule races, near the old camp, for soldiers and laughingKaffir boys. The men's dinner itself was enough to mark the day. It istrue everything was rather skimped, but after the ordinary short rationsit was a treat to get any kind of pudding, any pinch of tobacco, andsometimes just a drop of rum. 

Almost the saddest part of the siege now is the condition of theanimals. The oxen are skeletons of hunger, the few cows hardly give apint of milk apiece, the horses are failing. Nothing is more pitifulthan to feel a willing horse like mine try to gallop as he used, andhave to give it up simply for want of food. During the siege I havetaught him to talk better than most human beings, and his littleapologies are really pathetic when he breaks into something like his oldspeed and stops with a sigh. It is the same with all. 

CHAPTER XV

SICKNESS, DEATH, AND A NEW YEAR

 LADYSMITH, _December 26, 1899_. 

Good news came through the heliograph about General Gatacre's force atDordrecht. There were rumours about Lord Methuen, too, for which Dr. Jameson was quoted as authority. But the best evidence for hope was theunusual violence of the bombardment. It began early, and before themiddle of the afternoon the Boers had thrown 178 shells at us. They werecounted by a Gordon officer on Moriden's Castle, and the total must havereached nearly 200 before sunset. Such feverish activity is nearlyalways a sign of irritation on the part of the Dutch, and one can alwayshope the irritation is due to bad news for them. 

I have not heard of any loss in town or camp. Our guns, with theexception of the howitzers and Major Wing's field guns, which can justreach the new howitzer on Surprise Hill, have hardly replied at all. 

The milk question was the most serious of the day. I saw a herd ofthirty-five cows which had only yielded sixteen pints at milking time. It is now debated whether we shall not have to feed the cows and starvethe horses; or kill the thinnest horses and stew them down into brothfor the others. The reports about the condition of Intombi Camp wereparticularly horrible to-day. But General Hunter will not allow any oneto visit the camp, and it is no good repeating secondhand reports. 

 _December 27, 1899. _

The side of Tunnel Hill, at the angle of the Helpmakaar road, whereLiverpools and Gloucesters have suffered in turn, was to-day the sceneof an exactly similar disaster to the Devons. 

The great Bulwan gun began shelling us later than usual. It must havebeen past eight. The Devon officers had long finished breakfast, andafter inspecting the lines were gathered for orderly room in their mess. It is a fairly large shed on a platform of beaten earth, levelled in theside of the hill. The roof, of corrugated iron and earth, covered withtarpaulin, would hardly even keep out splinters, and is only supportedon rough wooden beams. It is impossible to construct sufficient headshelter. The ground is so rocky that all you can do with it is to buildwalls and traverses. Along one side of the mess tent a great traverseruns, some eight or ten feet thick, and about as high. When the sentryblows the warning whistle at the flash of a big gun, officers aresupposed to come under the shelter of this traverse, till the shell haspassed or declared its direction. At the first shot this morning I heardno whistle blow, but it was sounded at the second and third. It was thethird that did the damage. Striking the top of the traverse, it plungedforward in huge fragments into the messroom, tearing an enormous hole inthe tarpaulin screen. Unhappily Mr. Dalzell, a first lieutenant witheight years' service, had refused to come under the wall, and wassitting at the table reading. The main part of the shell struck him fullon the side of the face, and carried away nearly all his head. He passedpainlessly from his reading into death. The state of the messroom when Isaw it was too horrible to describe. The wounds of the other officersprove that the best traverse is insufficient unless accompanied by headshelter. Though their backs were against the wall, seven were wounded, and three others badly bruised. Two cases are serious: Lieutenant P. Dent had part of his skull taken off, and Lieutenant Caffin had acompound fracture of the shoulder-blade. Lieutenant Cane, an "orficerboy, " who only joined on Black Monday, was also wounded in the back. Thedhoolies quickly came and bore the wounded away to the Wesleyan Chapel. Mr. Dalzell was buried in the afternoon. "Well, well, " sighed the oldgravedigger, "I never thought I should live to bury a man without ahead. "

To-day, for the first time, we heard that Lord Roberts had lost his onlyson at Colenso. The whole camp was sad about it. The scandal over therobbery of the sick by the civilians at Intombi has grown so seriousthat at last General Hunter is sending out Colonel Stoneman toinvestigate. I have myself repeatedly endeavoured to telegraph homeknown facts about the corruption and mismanagement, but all I wrote hasbeen scratched out by the Censorship. One such little fact I may mentionnow. The 18th Hussar officers at Christmas gave up a lot of littleluxuries, such as cakes and things, which count high in a siege, andsent them down to their sick at Intombi. Not a crumb of it all did thesick ever receive. Everything disappeared _en route_--stolen byofficials, or sold to greedy Colonials for whom the sick had fought. Itis a small point, but characteristic of the whole affair. 

 _December 28, 1899. _

The night was wet and pitchy dark. Only by the help of the lightning Ihad stumbled and plunged home to bed, when at about eleven a perfectstorm of rifle-fire suddenly swept along the ridges at our end of thetown. Rushing out I saw the edges of the hills twinkle with lines offlashes right away to Gun Hill and Bulwan. Alarmed at the darkness, andhearing strange sounds in the rain the Boers had taken a scare and wereblazing away at vacancy, in terror of another night attack. The uproarlasted about five minutes. Then all was quiet until, as dawn wasbreaking, "Lady Anne" and "Bloody Mary" shook me off my camp bed withthe crash of seven reports in quick succession just over my roof. Forsome days it had been an idea of Captain Lambton's to catch the Boergunners on Bulwan just as they were going up to their big gun, or wereoccupied with early breakfast. Five of our shells burst on the face ofthe hill where many Boers spend the night, probably to protect the gun. The two last fell on the top, close to the gun itself. The latter didnot fire at all to-day, and I saw the Boers standing about it in groupsevidently excited and disturbed. 

The bombardment continued much as usual in other parts, and I spent theafternoon with the 69th Battery on Leicester Post, watching Major Wingreply to the new howitzer on Surprise Hill. Rain fell heavily at times, and the Boers never like firing in the wet. 

The day was chiefly marked by Colonel Stoneman's visit to Intombi Campto inquire into the reported scandals. He thinks that the worst of thecorruption and swindling is already over, being killed by the veryscandal. But he found a general want of organisation in the distributionof food and other stores. There are now 2, 557 inhabitants of the camp, of whom 1, 015 are sick and wounded soldiers. Of late the numbers havebeen increasing by forty or fifty a day, allowing for those who returnor die. The graves to-day number eighty-three, and a gang of fortyKaffirs is always digging. Outside the military, the majority of therefugees are Kaffirs and coolies, the white civilians only numbering600 or 700. Colonel Stoneman had all, except the sick, paraded ingroups, and assigned separate tasks to each--nursing for the whites, digging and sanitation for the Kaffirs, cooking and skilled labour forthe coolies. One important condition he made--every one required to workis also required to take his day's wage. The medical authority hasobjected to certain improvements on the ground of expense, but, asColonel Stoneman says, what will England care about a few thousands atsuch a crisis in her history? Or what would she say if we allowed hersick and wounded to die in discomfort for the want of a little money? Byto-morrow all the sick will have beds and even sheets, food will bedistributed on a better organised plan, and civilians will be raisedfrom a two-months' slough of feeding, sleeping, grumbling, and generalswinishness unredeemed even by shells. 

[Illustration: EFFECT OF A 96LB. SHELL ON A PRIVATE HOUSE]

At night the British flashlight from Colenso was throwing signals uponthe cloudy sky, and it was amusing to watch the Boers trying to confusethe signals by flashing their two searchlights upon the same cloud. Theyhave one light west of us near Bester's Station, and to-night theyshowed a very brilliant electric light on the top of Bulwan. When oursignalling stopped, they turned it on the town, and very courteouslylighted me home. It was like the clearest moonlight, the shadows longand black, but all else distinct in colourless brilliance. The top ofBulwan is four miles from our main street. To make up for yesterday theshells were particularly lively to-day. Before breakfast one fell on therailway behind our house, one into the verandah next door, and two intoour little garden. Unhappily, the last killed one of our few remainingfowls--shivered it into air so that nothing but a little cloud offeathers was seen again. In the middle of the afternoon old "PuffingBilly" again opened fire with energy. I was at the tailor's on the mainstreet, and the shells were falling just round his shop. "Thirty-eight, thirty-four, " said the little Scot measuring. "There's the Dutch churchgone. Forty-two, sixteen. There's the bank. Just hold the tape, mon, while I go and look. Oh, it's only the Town Hall!" Among other shellsone came in painted with the Free State colours, and engraved "With thecompliments of the season. " It is the second thus adorned, but whereasthe first had been empty, this was charged with plum-pudding. Can it bea Dutchman who has such a pleasant wit? The condition of the horsesbecomes daily more pitiful. Some fall in the street and cannot get upagain for weakness. Most have given up speed. The 5th Lancers haveorders never to move quicker than a walk. The horses are just kept aliveby grass which Hindoos grub up by the roots. A small ration of groundmealies and bran is also issued. Heavy rain came on and fell all night, during which we heard two far-off explosions. 

 _December 30, 1899. _

Going up to Leicester Post in the early morning, I found the K. R. Riflesdrying themselves in the African sun, which blazed in gleams between theclouds. Without the sun we should fare badly. As it is, the rain, exposure, and bad food are reducing our numbers fast. Passing the 11thField Hospital on my way up, I saw stretcher after stretcher movingslowly along with the sick in their blankets. "Dysentery, enteric;enteric, dysentery, " were the invariable answers. All the thousands ofshells thrown at us in the last two months count for nothing beside thesickness. 

On the top of the hill I found the two guns of Major Wing's batterytrained on Surprise Hill as usual. In accordance with my customary goodfortune all the enemy's guns opened fire at once. But only the howitzer, the automatic, and the Bluebank were actually aimed our way. TheBluebank was most effective. 

It was amusing to see the men of the 60th when a shell pitched amongthem to-day. How they regarded it as a busy man regards the intrusion ofthe housemaid--just a harmless necessary nuisance, and no more. Thecattle took the little automatic shells in much the same spirit, butwith an addition of wonder--staring at them and snuffing with bovineastonishment. The Kaffir herdsmen first ran yelling in every direction, and then rushed back to dig the shell up, amid inextinguishablelaughter. The Hindoo grass-cutter neither ran nor laughed, but awaiteddestiny with resignation. By the way, there is a Hindoo servant in the19th Hussar lines, who at the approach of a "Long Tom" shell alwaysfalls reverently on his face and prays to it. 

At sundown, in hopes of adding to our starvation rations, I went outamong the thorns at the foot of Cęsar's Camp to shoot birds and hares. But the thorns are fast disappearing as firewood, and the appalling rainalmost drowned me in the rush of the spruits. So we dined as usual onlumps of trek-ox thinly disguised. Talking of rain, I forgot to mentionthat the deluge on Friday night drowned six horses of the LeicesterMounted Infantry, carried away twenty-seven of their saddles, broke downthe grand shelter-caves of the Imperial Light Horse, carried theirbridge away to the blue, and flooded out half the poor homes of nativesand civilians dug in the sand of the river banks. 

 _Sunday, December 31, 1899. _

Most of my day was wasted in an attempt to get leave to visit Intombi. Colonel Exham (P. M. O. ) and Major Bateson had asked me to go down andgive a fair account of what I saw. General Hunter took my application tothe Chief, but Sir George thought it contrary to his original agreementwith Joubert, that none but medical and commissariat officers shouldenter the camp. So Intombi remains unvisited--a vision of my own. Inhigh quarters I gather that, considering the great difficulties of thecase, the camp is thought a successful piece of work, very creditable tothe officers in charge. Otherwise the day was chiefly remarkable for theunusual amount of firing at the outposts, and the arrival by runner ofa Natal newspaper with the news that Lord Roberts was coming out. As itwas New Year's eve, we expected a midnight greeting from the Boer guns, and sure enough, between twelve and one, all the smaller guns in turntook one shot into vacancy and then were still. 

 _January 1, 1900. _

The Bulwan gun began the New Year with energy. He sent thirty of hisenormous shells into the camps and town, eight or nine of which fell inquick succession among the Helpmakaar fortifications, now held by theLiverpools. 

Three or four houses in the town were wrecked by shells, the mostdecisive ruin being at Captain Valentine's. The shell went through theiron verandah, pierced the stone wall above the front door withoutbursting, and exploded against the partition wall of the passage anddrawing-room. Throwing forward, it cleared away the kitchen wall, andswept the kitchen clean. Down a passage to the right the expansion ofthe air blew off a heavy door, and threw it across the bed of a woundedRifle Brigade officer. He escaped unhurt, but a valued servant from theIrish Rifles got a piece of shell through back and stomach as he waspreparing breakfast in the kitchen. He died in a few hours. His lastwords were, "I hope you got your breakfast all right, sir. "

The house had long been a death-trap. Perhaps the Boers aim at thetelegraph-office across the road, or possibly spies have told themColonel Rhodes goes there for meals. The General has now declared theplace too dangerous for habitation. 

In the afternoon we were to have had a military tournament on theIslington model, but the General stopped it, because the enemy wouldcertainly have thrown shells into our midst, and women and childrenwould have been there. At night, however, the Natal Volunteers gaveanother open-air concert. In the midst we heard guns--real guns--fromColenso way. Between the reflected flash on the sky and the sound of thereport one could count seventy-eight seconds, which Captain Lambtontells me gives a distance of about fifteen and a half miles. All daydistant guns were heard from time to time. Some said the direction waschanged, but I could hear no difference. 

The mayor and councillors relieve the monotony of the siege withdomestic solicitude. To-day they are said to be preparing a deputationto the General imploring that the first train which comes up after therelief shall be exclusively devoted--not to medical stuff for thewounded, not to food for the hungry troops and fodder for the starvinghorses, not to the much-needed ammunition for the guns--but to their ownwomen. 

 _January 2, 1900. _

Soon after daylight dropping bullets began to whiz past my window andcrack upon the tin roof in quite a shower. The Boer snipers had crept upinto Brooks's Farm, beyond the Harrismith railway, and were firing atthe heads of our men on Junction Hill. Whenever they missed the edge ofthe hill the bullets fell on my cottage. At last some guns opened firefrom our Naval battery on Cove Redoubt. Captain Lambton had permittedthe Natal Naval Volunteers to blaze away some of their surplusammunition at the snipers. And blaze they did! Their 3-pounders kept upan almost continuous fire all the morning, and hardly a sniper has beenheard since. There was nothing remarkable about the bombardment. 

"Puffing Billy" gave us his four doses of big shell as usual. Whilst Iwas at the Intelligence Office a shell lit among some houses under thetrees in front, killed two and wounded others. The action of anothershell would seem incredible if I had not seen it. The thing burst amongthe 13th Battery, which stands under shelter of Tunnel Hill, in astraight line with my road, less than 300 yards away. I was justmounting my horse and stopped to see the burst, when a fragment camesauntering high through the air and fell with a thud in the garden justbehind me. It was a jagged bit of outer casing about three inches thick, and weighing over 6 lbs. The extraordinary thing about it was that ithad flung off exactly at right angles from the line of fire. Gunners saythat melinite sometimes does these things. 

I rode south-west, over Range Post and a bit of the Long Valley toWaggon Hill, our nearest point to the relief column and the Englishmail. At no great distance--ten miles or so--I could see the hillsoverlooking the Tugela, where the English are. Far beyond rose the cragsand precipices of the Drakensberg, illuminated by unearthly gleams ofthe setting sun, which found their way beneath the fringes of a purplethunder-shower and turned to amber-brown a cloud of smoke rising fromthe burning veldt. 

 _January 3, 1900. _

The quiet hour before sunrise was again broken by the crash of our Navalguns. "Bloody Mary" (now politely called the "Princess Victoria") threwfive shells along the top of Bulwan. A Naval 12-pounder sent threeagainst the face of the hill. Again it was intended to catch the Boergunners and guard as they were getting up and preparing breakfast. 

 _January 4, 1900. _

No news came in, and it was a day as dull as peace, but for someamenities of bombardment. 

The Surprise Hill howitzer tried a longer range. At lunch "Bulwan Billy"made some splendid shots close to our little mess and burst the tanks atTaylor's mineral water works. In the wet afternoon the big gun's workwas less dignified. He threw five shrapnel over the cattle licking upwhat little grass was left on the flat, and did not kill a single cow. 

The guides boast that to-day they killed one Boer by strategy used fortigers in India. Two or three of them went out to Star Kopje and loosedtwo miserable old ponies, driving them towards the Boer lines to graze. A Boer or two came for the prize and one was shot dead. 

At night the flash signals from Colenso were very brilliant on a blackand cloudy sky. They only said, "Dearest love from your own Nance, " or"Baby sends kisses, " but the Bulwan searchlight tried hard to thwarttheir affectionate purpose by waving his ray quickly up and down acrossthe flashing beam. 

 _January 5, 1900. _

There was little to mark the day beyond the steady shelling of snipersby the Natal Navals, and a great 96lb. Shell from Bulwan which plungedthrough a Kaffir house, where black labourers live stuffed together, took off a Kaffir's foot, ricocheted over our little mess-room, justglancing off the roof, and fell gasping, but still entire, beside ourverandah. I rode up to Cęsar's Camp in the morning sun. It was a sceneof sleepy peace, only broken by the faint interest of watching where theshells burst in the town far below. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE GREAT ATTACK

 _January 6, 1900. _

It has been a commonplace of the war that the Boers could cling to aposition of their own choosing from behind stones, but would neverventure to attack a position or fight in the open. Like all thecomforting commonplaces about the Boers, this is now overthrown. Theuntrained, ill-equipt farmers have to-day assaulted positions ofextraordinary strength, have renewed the attack again and again, haverushed up to breastworks, and died at the rifle's mouth, and have onlybeen repulsed after fifteen hours of hard and gallant fighting on thepart of the defence. 

Waggon Hill is a long, high spur of Cęsar's Camp, running out south-westbetween Long Valley and Bester's Farm. At the extremity, as I havedescribed, are the great gun-pits prepared for "Lady Anne" and a Naval12-pounder some weeks ago. "Lady Anne" was for the second time beingbrought up into position there last night, and ought to have been fixedthe night before, but was stopped half-way by the wet. 

The Boer attack was probably not merely an attempt on the gun, but onthe position, and the gun is being taken back to her usual positionto-night. Besides the gun-pits, the hill has no defences except a fewlow walls, only two or three stones high, piled up at intervals roundthe edge, as shelters from long-range fire. The place was held only bythree dismounted squadrons of Imperial Light Horse, but the 1st K. R. R. (60th) were in support in a large sangar about three-quarters of a milealong the same ridge, separated from Waggon Hill proper by the low "nek"where the two howitzers used to stand. From the 60th the ridge turns atan angle eastward, and becomes the long tableland of Cęsar's Camp, heldby the Manchesters and 42nd Battery (Major Goulburn). The top is broadand flat, covered with grass and loose stones. The whole positioncompletely overlooks the town to the north, and if it fell into theenemy's hands we should either have to retake it or quit the camps andtown. The edge measures 4, 000 yards, and the Manchesters had only 560men to hold it. 

At a quarter to three a. M. , while it was still dark, a small party ofBoer sharpshooters climbed up the further (south-east) face of WaggonHill, just left of the "nek. " They were picked men who had volunteeredfor the exploit. Nearly all came from Harrismith. We had posted a picketof eight at the point, but long security had made them careless, or elsethey were betrayed by a mistake which nearly lost the whole position. From the edge of the hill the whole face is "dead" ground. It is sosteep that an enemy climbing up it cannot be seen. It was almost a caseof Majuba again. 

The Dutch crept up quite unobserved. At last a sentry challenged, andwas answered with "Friend. " He was shot dead, and was found with rifleraised and still loaded. The alarm was given, but no one realised whathad happened. Captain Long (A. S. C. ), who was superintending thetransport of "Lady Anne, " told me he could not understand how it wasthat bullets kept whistling past his nose. He thought the firing wasfrom our own sentries. But the Dutch had reached the summit, and wereenfilading the "nek" and the whole extremity of the hill from our left. As light began to dawn it was impossible to show oneself for a moment onthe open top. The furthest range was not over 300 yards, and the top ofa helmet, the corner of an arm, was sufficient aim for those deadlymarksmen. Unable to stand against the fire, the Light Horse withdrewbehind the crest of the hill, whilst small parties continued a desperatedefence from the two big gun-pits. 

Nearly all the officers present have been killed or wounded, and it isdifficult to get a clear account of what happened from any eye-witness. Four companies from each battalion of the K. R. Rifles came up within thehour, but no one keeps count of time in such a struggle. The Boers werenow climbing up all along the face of the hill, and firing from theedge. All day about half the summit was in their possession. Three timesthey actually occupied the gun-pits and had to be driven out again. Leaning their rifles over the parapets they fired into the space inside. It was so that Major Miller-Wallnutt, of the Gordons, was killed. Old DeVilliers, the Harrismith commandant, shot him over the wall, and was inturn shot by Corporal Albrecht, of the Light Horse, who was himself shotby a Field-Cornet, who was in turn shot by Digby-Jones, the sapper. Soit went on. The Boers advanced to absolutely certain death, and they metit without hesitation--the Boers who would never have the courage toattack a position! One little incident illustrates their spirit. Arugged old Boer finding one of the I. L. H. Wounded on the ground, stoppedunder fire and bound him up. "I feel no hatred towards you, " he said, "but you have no reason to fight at all. We are fighting for ourcountry. " He turned away, and a bullet killed him as he turned. 

Before six o'clock the defence was further reinforced by a party ofGordons from Maiden Castle. They did excellent work throughout the day, though they, too, were once or twice driven from the top. But the creditof the stand remains with the I. L. H. And a few sappers like Digby-Jones, who held one of the little forts alone for a time, killed three Boerswith his revolver, and went for a fourth with the butt. He would havehad the V. C. If he had not fallen. So perhaps would Dennis, of theSappers, though I am told he was present without orders. Lord Ava, galloper to General Ian Hamilton, commanding the defences, was shotthrough the head early in the day, about six o'clock. Sent forward witha message to the Light Horse, he was looking through glasses over arock when the bullet took him. While I write he is still alive, butgiven up. A finer fellow never lived. "You'd never take him for a lord, "said an Irish sergeant, "he seems quite a nice gentleman. " Equally sadwas the loss of Colonel Dick-Cunyngham, of the Gordons. A spent bulletstruck him in the back as he was leaving camp. The wound is mortal, andhe had only just recovered from his wound at Elands Laagte. 

So the fight began. The official estimate of the Boers who gained thetop is 600. Eye-witnesses put the number at anything between 100 and1, 000. The struggle continued from 3 a. M. Till nearly seven at night. Itmust be remembered that our men had nothing to eat from five theafternoon before, and got nothing till nine at night. Twenty-eight hoursthey were without food, and for about sixteen they were fighting forlife and death. At 4 p. M. A tremendous thunderstorm with rain and hailcame on, but the fire never slackened. The 21st and 67th Batteries werebehind the position in front of Range Post, but were unable to giveassistance for fear of killing our men. The 18th Hussars and 5th DragoonGuards and some 5th Lancers came up dismounted to reinforce, but stillthe enemy clung to the rocks, and still it was death to creep out on thenarrow level of the summit. 

It was now evident that the position must be retaken at all costs, orthe enemy would hold it all night. The General sent for three companiesof the Devons. Up they came, tramping through the storm--that gloriousregiment of Western Englishmen. Colonel Park and four other officers ledthem on. It was about six o'clock when they reached the summit. Keepingwell to the left of the "nek, " between the extremity held by the LightHorse and the 60th's sangar, they took open order under cover of theridge. Then came the command to sweep the position with the bayonet. They fixed, and advanced at the quick till they reached the open. Then, under a steady hail of bullets, they came on at the double--180 men, with the steel ready. Colonel Park himself led them. The Boers kept upan incessant fire till the line was within fifteen yards. Then theyturned and ran, leaping down the steep face of the hill, anddisappearing in the dead ground. Their retreat was gallantly covered bytheir comrades, who swept the ridge with an oblique fire from bothsides. 

The Devons, edging a little to the right in their charge, got some coverfrom a low wall near the "nek" just quitted by the Boers. Even there thedanger was terrible. It was there that four officers fell, three stonedead. It will be long before such officers as Lafone (already twicewounded in this war) and Field can be replaced. Lieutenant Masterson, formerly a private, and later a colour-sergeant in the Irish Fusiliers, was ordered back over the exposed space cleared by the first charge tobring up a small reinforcement further on the left. On the way he wasshot at least three times, but staggered on and gave his order. He stillsurvives, and is recommended for the Victoria Cross. He comes of afighting Irish stock, and his great-grandfather captured the FrenchEagle at Barossa in the Peninsular War. He received his commission forgallantry in Egypt. 

But the day was won. The position was cleared. That charge finished thebusiness. The credit for the whole defence against one of the bravestattacks ever made rests with the Light Horse, the Gordons, and theDevons. Yet it is impossible to forget the unflinching self-devotion ofthe King's Royal Rifle officers. They suffered terribly, and the worstis they suffered almost in vain. At one moment, when the defenders hadbeen driven back over the summit's edge, Major Mackworth (of theQueen's, but attached to the King's Royal Rifles) went up again, callingon the men to follow him. Just with his walking-stick in his hand hewent up, and with the few brave men who followed him he died. 

The attack on the main position of Cęsar's Camp was much the same inplan and result. At 3 a. M. The Manchester pickets along the extremity'sleft edge (_i. E. _, north-east) were surprised by the appearance of Boersin their very midst. Lieutenant Hunt-Grubbe, who was visiting thepickets, mistook them for volunteers. "Hullo! Boers!" he cried out. Theylaughed and answered, "Yes, burghers!" He was a prisoner in their handsfor some hours. The whole of one section was shot dead at their post. The alarm was given, but the outlying sentries and piquets could notmove from the little shelters and walls which alone protected them fromthe oblique fire from an unknown direction. Many were shot down. Someremained hidden at the bottom of their defence pits till late in theafternoon without being able to stir. Creeping up the dead ground on thecliffs face, which is covered with rocks and thick bushes, the Boerslined the left edge of the summit in great numbers. Probably about 1, 000attacked that part alone, and about 200 advanced on to the top. Theywere all Transvaal Boers, chiefly volunteers from the commandoes ofHeidelburg and Wakkerstroom. This main body was attempting to take ourleft (north) side of the hill in flank, and kept edging through thethorns and dongas near the foot. The Natal Police, supported by theNatal Mounted Rifles, had been set to prevent such a movement, but hadleft a gap of 500 yards between their right and three companies ofGordons stationed in front of "Fly" kraal on that side of the hill. Atlast, observing the enemy in a donga, they challenged, and were met bythe answer, "For God's sake, don't fire; we're the Town Guard. " At oncethey were undeceived by a volley which killed one of them and wounded afew others. How far they avenged this act of treachery I have notdiscovered. The Boers flanking movement was only checked by the 53rdBattery (Major Abdy), which was posted on the flat across the river fromthe show ground, and did splendid service all day. It shelled the sideand top of the hill almost incessantly, though the big Bulwan gun keptpouring shrapnel and common shell right in front of it, making all theveldt look like a ploughed field. 

Meantime the Boers on the summit held their ground. Their movement wasbacked by three field guns and two automatics across the Bester's valleyat ranges of 2, 000 yards and 4, 000 yards. Their further advance alongthe edge was really checked by two Manchester privates, Scott and Pitts, who kept up an incessant fire from their little wall at the extremityafter all their comrades were shot. Three companies of the Rifle Brigadeat last came up to reinforce. Then the G Company of the Gordons, underCaptain Carnegie. But for a long time no one knew where the gap in ourline really was. About half-past nine one could see the enemy stillthick among the rocks and trees on the left of the extremity, though theshrapnel was dropping all among them from the 53rd Battery. It was justbefore this that Lieutenant Walker, watching with a telescope from thesignal station on the Convent, saw two Boers creeping along the edgealone for about 150 yards under tremendous fire. Suddenly a shrapneltook them, and both fell down. They were father and son. About half-pastten the first assault was repulsed, and for a time the Boersdisappeared, but one could see reinforcements massing behind a hillcalled the "Red Kopje, " across the deep stream of the Bester's valley. The second main attack was delivered about one, and the third during thestorm at five. I think, after the first assault, the Boer line neveradvanced beyond the cover of the edge. But their incessant fire wassupported by a storm of long-range bullets from the heights across thevalley. The position was not finally cleared till nearly seven. 

The attack and the defence were equally gallant, as at Waggon Hill. Ourguns were of far more service than theirs, but probably the loss byrifle fire was not so great, the range being longer. The total force ofthe attack on both positions was probably about 7, 000. Some 2, 000Volunteers led the way--old Boer farmers and picked men who came forwardafter a prayer meeting on Friday. For immovable courage I think it wouldbe impossible to beat our gunners--especially of the 42nd and 53rdBatteries. All through the action they continued the routine of gunneryjust as if they were out for exercise on the sands. 

By seven o'clock the main positions on the south side of our defenceswere safe. On the north, fighting had been going on all day also. Atabout 4 a. M. The artillery and rifle fire was so violent aroundObservation Hill that I thought the main attack was on that point. Originally the Boers no doubt intended a strong attack there. The hillhas always been one of the weakest points of our defence. 

The Boers began their attack on Observation Hill just before dawn with arapid fire of guns and rifles at long range. At first only our gunsreplied, the two of the 69th doing excellent work with shrapnel over theopposite ridges. By about six we could see the Boers creeping forwardover Bell Spruit and making their way up the dongas and ridges in ourfront. At about eight there was a pause, and it seemed as if the attackwas abandoned, but it began again at nine with greater violence. Theshell fire was terrific. Every kind of shell, from the 45-pounder of the4. 7 in. Howitzer down to the 1-1/2-pounder of the automatic, was hurledagainst those little walls, while shrapnel burst almost incessantlyoverhead. 

It is significant for our own use of artillery that not a single man'was killed by shells, though the air buzzed with them. The loose stonewalls were cover enough. But the demoralising effect of shell fire iswell known to all who have stood it. A good regiment is needed to holdon against such a storm. But the Devons are a good regiment--perhaps thebest here now--and, under the command of Major Curry, they held. Athalf-past nine the rifle fire at short range became terrible. 

Boers were crawling up over what little dead ground there was, and onegroup of them reached an edge from which they began firing into ourbreastwork at about fifteen yards. One or two of them sprang up asthough to charge. With bayonets they might have come on, but, standingto fire, they were at once shot down. Among them was Schutte, thecommandant of the force. He was killed on the edge, with about tenothers. Then the attacking group fell back into the dead ground. Our mengot the order not to fire on them if they ran away. It was the bestmeans of clearing them off the hill, and they made off one by one. Thelong-range fire continued all day, but there was no further rush uponour works. Our loss was only two men killed and a few wounded. The Boerloss is estimated at fifty, but it is impossible to know. 

The King's (Liverpools), who now hold the works built by the Devons onthe low Helpmakaar ridge, were also under rifle and shell fire all day. About 3 p. M. About eighty Boers came down the deep ravine or donga atthe further end of the ridge. A mounted infantry picket of three men wasaway across the donga, watching the road towards Lombard's Nek. Insteadof retiring, they calmly lay down and fired into the thick of the Boerswhenever they saw them. Apparently the Boers had intended some sort ofattack or feint, but, instead of advancing, they remained hidden in thedonga, firing over the banks. At last Major Grattan, fearing the bravelittle picket might be cut off, sent out two infantry patrols inextended order, and the Boers did not await their coming; they hurriedup the donga into the shelter of the thorns, which just now are allgolden with balls of sweet-smelling blossom. 

Soon after the sun set behind the storm of rain the fighting ceased. Thelong and terrible day was done. I found myself with the Irish Fusiliersat Range Post, where the road crosses to the foot of Waggon Hill. Thestream of ambulance was incessant--covered mule-waggons, littleox-carts, green dhoolies carried by indomitable Hindoos, knee-deep inwater, and indifferent to every kind of death. In the sixteen hours'fighting we have lost fourteen officers and 100 men killed, twenty-oneofficers and 220 men wounded. The victory is ours. Our men have donewhat they were set to do. But two or three more such victories, andwhere should we be?

 _Sunday, January 7, 1900. _

The men remained on the position all night under arms, soaked throughand hardly fed. Rum was issued, but half the carts lost their way in thedark, because the officers in charge had preferred to go fighting on theloose and got wounded. The men lay in pools of rain among the dead. Lieutenant Haag, 18th Hussars, kept apologising to the man next him forusing his legs as a pillow. At dawn he found the man was a Rifleman longdead, his head in a puddle of blood, his stiff arms raised to the sky. Many such things happened. Under the storm of fire it had beenimpossible to recover all the wounded before dark. Some lay out fullytwenty-four hours without help, or food, or drink. One of the LightHorse was used by a Boer as a rest for his rifle. When I reached WaggonHill about nine this morning the last of the wounded were being broughtdown. Nearly all the Light Horse dead (twenty of them) had been takenaway separately, but at the foot of the hill lay a row of the Gordons, bloody and stiff, their Major, Miller-Wallnutt, at their head, conspicuous by his size. The bodies of the Rifles were being collected. Some still lay curled up and twisted among the dripping rocks. Slowlythe waggons were packed and sent off to the place of burial. 

The broad path up the hill and the tracks along the top were stainedwith blood. It lay in sticky pools, which even the rain could not washout. It was easy to see where the dead had fallen. Most had lain behindsome rock to fire and there met their end. On the summit some Kaffirswere skinning eight oxen which had been spanned to the "Lady Anne's"platform, and stood immovable during the fight. Four had been shot inthe action, the others had just been killed as rations. Passing to thefurther edge where the Boers crept up I saw a Boer ambulance and anox-waggon waiting. Bearded Boers in their slouch hats stood round themwith an English doctor from Harrismith, commandeered to serve. Our menwere carrying the Boer wounded and dead down the steep slope. The deadwere laid out in line, and put in the ox-waggon. At that time there wereseventeen of them waiting, but eight others were still on the hill, andI found them where they fell. Most were grey-bearded men, rough oldfarmers, with wrinkled and kindly faces, hardened by a grand life in sunand weather. They were dressed in flannel shirts, rough old jackets ofbrown cloth, rough trousers with braces, weather-stained slouch hats, and every variety of boot. Only a few had socks. Some wore the yellow"veldt-shoes, " some were bare-footed; their boots had probably beentaken. They lay in their blood, their glazed blue eyes looking over therocks or up to the sky, their ashen hands half-clenched, their teethyellow between their pale blue lips. 

Beside the outer wall of "Lady Anne's" sangar, his head resting on itsstones, lay a white-bearded man, poorly dressed, but refined in face. Itwas De Villiers, the commandant of the Harrismith district--a relation, a brother perhaps, of the Chief Justice De Villiers, who entertained meat Bloemfontein less than four months ago. Across his body lay that of amuch younger man, with a short brown beard. He is thought to have beenone of the old man's field cornets, and had fought up to the sangar athis side till a bullet pierced his eye and brain. 

Turning back from the extremity of our position, I went along the wholeridge. The ground told one as much as men could tell. Among the rockslay blood-stained English helmets and Dutch hats; piles of English andDutch cartridge-cases, often mixed together in places which both sideshad occupied; scraps of biltong and leather belts; handkerchiefs, socks, pieces of letters, chiefly in Dutch; dropped ball cartridges of everymodel--Lee-Metford, Mauser, Martini, and Austrian. I found a fewhollow-nosed bullets, too, expanding like the Dum-Dum. The effect ofsuch a bullet was seen on the hat of some poor fellow in the LightHorse. There was a tiny hole on one side, but the further side was allrent to pieces. I hear some "express" sporting bullets have also beentaken to the Intelligence Office, but I have not seen them. Beside oneBoer was found one of the old Martini rifles taken from the 52nd atMajuba. 

On the top of Cęsar's Camp our dead were laid out forburial--Manchesters, Gordons, and Rifle Brigade together. The Boersturned an automatic Maxim on the burying party, thinking they weredigging earthworks. In the wooded valley at the foot of the hill theythemselves, under Geneva flags, were searching the bushes and dongasfor their own dead, and disturbing the little wild deer beside thestream. On the summit parties of our own men were still engagedunwillingly in finding the Boer dead and carrying them down the cliff. Just at the edge of the summit, to which he had climbed in triumph, laythe body of a man about twenty. A shell had almost cut him in half. .. . Only his face and his hands were untouched. Like most of the dead he hadthe blue eyes and light hair of the well-bred Boer. When first he wasfound, his father's body lay beside him, shattered also, but not sohorribly. They were identified by letters from home in their pockets. 

CHAPTER XVII

A PAUSE AND A RENEWAL

 _January 8, 1900. _

All was ready to receive another attack, but the Boers made no signbeyond the usual bombardment. One of the wounded--a Harrismith man--saysthere is a strong party in favour of peace, men who want to get back totheir farms and their families. We have heard that tale before, butstill, here the Boers are fighting for freedom and existence if ever mendid. 

To-day's bombardment nearly destroyed the tents and dhoolies of ourfield hospital, but did little else save beheading and mangling somecorpses. The troops were changed about a good deal, half the K. R. R. Being sent to the old Devon post on Helpmakaar road; half the Liverpoolsto King's Post, and the Rifle Brigade to Waggon Hill. 

At night there was a thanksgiving service in the Anglican Church. Iought to have mentioned earlier that on the night before the attack theDutch held a solemn supplication, calling on God to bless their efforts. 

 _January 9, 1900. _

One long blank of drenching rain unrelieved by shells, till at sunset astormy light broke in the west, and a few shots were fired. 

 _January 10, 1900. _

In the night the authorities expected an attack on Observation Hill. They hurried out two guns of the 69th Battery to a position outsideKing's Post. The guns were dragged through the heavy slush, but whenthey arrived it was found no guns could live in such a place, fullyexposed to all fire, and unsupported by infantry. So back came the wearymen and horses through the slush again, getting to their camp between 2and 3 a. M. 

At intervals in the night the two mountain guns on Observation Hill keptfiring star-shell to reveal any possible attack. But none came, and therest of the day was very quiet. My time was occupied in getting off abrief heliogram, and sending out another Kaffir with news of Saturday'sdefence. Two have been driven back. The Boers now stretch wires withbells across the paths, and it goes hard with any runner caught. 

 _January 11, 1900. _

The enemy was ominously quiet. Bulwan did not fire all day. From King'sPost, whilst visiting the new fortifications and the guns in their newpositions all about it, I watched the Boers dragging two field gunshastily southward along the western track, perhaps to Springfield Drift, over the Tugela. Then a large body--500 or 600--galloped hurriedly inthe same direction. 

A sadness was thrown over the day by Lord Ava's death early in theafternoon. If he could have recovered the doctors say he would have beenparalysed or have lost his memory. He was the best type ofEnglishman--Irish-English, if you will--excellently made, delighting inhis strength and all kinds of sport, his eye full of light, his voicesingularly beautiful and attractive. His courage was extraordinary, anddid not come of ignorance. At Elands Laagte I saw him with a riflefighting side by side with the Gordons. He went through the battle intheir firing line, but he told me afterwards that the horror of thefield had sickened him of war. In manner he was peculiarly frank andcourteous. I can imagine no one speaking ill of him. His best epitaphperhaps is the saying of the Irish sergeant's which I have alreadyquoted. 

The ration of sugar was increased by one ounce to-day, the mealies bytwo ounces, so as to give the men porridge in the morning. For afortnight past all the milk has been under military control, and canonly be obtained on a doctor's certificate. We began eating trek-oxenthree days ago. Some battalions prefer horse-flesh, and get it. Dysentery and enteric are as bad as ever, but do not increase inproportion to the length of siege. There are 1, 700 soldiers at Intombisick camp now. A great many horses die every day, but not of the"horse-sickness. " Their bodies are thrown on waste ground along theHelpmakaar road, and poison the air for the Liverpools and Rifles there. To-night the varied smell all over the town is hardly endurable. 

 _January 12, 1900. _

A quiet day again. Hardly a gun was fired. Wild rumours flew--the Boerswere trekking north in crowds--they were moving the gun on Bulwan--alllies!

I spent the whole day trying to induce a Kaffir to risk his life for£15. A Kaffir lives on mealie-pap, varied by an occasional cow's head. He drinks nothing but slightly fermented barley-water. Yet he will notrisk death for £15! After four false starts, my message remains where itwas. The last Kaffir who tried to get through the Boers with it was shotin the thigh by our pickets as he was returning. That does not encouragethe rest. 

 _January 13, 1900. _

Between seven and eight in the morning the Bulwan gun hurled threeshells into our midst, and repeated the exploit in the afternoon. Butsomehow he seemed to have lost form. He was not the Puffing Billy whomwe knew. We greeted him as one greets an enemy who has come down in theworld--with considerate indulgence. The sailors think that his carriageis strained. 

A British heliograph began flashing to us from Schwarz Kop, a hill onlyone and a half miles over Potgieter's or Springfield Drift on theTugela. It is that way we have always expected Buller's main advance. Can this be the herald of it? Most of us have agreed never to mentionthe word "Buller, " but it is hard to keep that pledge. 

In the afternoon I was able to accompany Colonel Stoneman (A. S. C. ) overthe scene of battle on Cęsar's Camp. His duties in organising the foodsupply keep him so tied to his office--one of the best shelled places inthe town--that he has never been up there before. All was quiet--themountains silent in the sunset. The Boers had been moving steadilywestward and south. They had taken some of their guns on carts coveredwith brushwood. We had not more than half a dozen shots fired at us allround that ridge which had blazed with death a week ago. In his tent onthe summit we found General Ian Hamilton. It was to his energy andpersonal knowledge of his men that last Saturday's success wasultimately due. Not a day passes but he visits every point in hisbrigade's defences. 

All in camp were saddened by the condition of Mr. Steevens, of the_Daily Mail_. Yesterday he was convalescent. To-day his life hangs by athread. That is the way of enteric. 

 _Sunday, January 14, 1900. _

Absolute silence still from the Tugela. On a low black hill beyond itsbanks I could see the British heliograph flashing. On a spur beside itI was told a British outpost was stationed. In the afternoon we thoughtwe heard guns again, but it was only thunder. With a telescope onObservation Hill I saw the Boers riding about their camps. On the GreatPlain they were digging long trenches and stretching barbed wireentanglements. To-day all was peaceful. The sun set amid crimsonthunder-clouds behind the Drakensberg; there was no sign of war save thewhistle of a persistent sniper's bullet over my head. Our weather-beatensoldiers were trying to make themselves comfortable for the night intheir little heaps of stones. 

 _January 15, 1900. _

This is the day I had fixed upon long ago for our relief. There wererumours of fighting by the Tugela, and some said they had seen squadronsof our cavalry and even Staff officers galloping on the further limitsof the Great Plain. But beyond the wish, there is no need to believewhat they said. 

In the morning Steevens, of the _Daily Mail_, was so much worse that wesent off a warning message to Mrs. Steevens by heliograph. At least Iclimbed to all the new signal stations in turn, trying to get it sent, but found the instruments full up with official despatches. MajorDonegan (R. A. M. C. ) was called in to consult with Major Davis, of theImperial Light Horse, who has treated the case with the utmost patienceand skill. Strychnine was injected, and about noon we recovered hope. Agalloper was sent to stop the message, and succeeded. Steevens becameconscious for a time, and Maud, of the _Graphic_, explained to him thatnow it was a fight for life. "All right, " he answered, "let's have adrink, then. " Some champagne was given him, and he seemed better. Whenwarned against talking, he said, "Well, you are in command. I'll do whatyou like. We are going to pull through. " Maud then went to sleep atlast, and between four and five Steevens passed quietly from sleep intodeath. 

Everything that could possibly be done for him had been done. For fiveweeks Maud had nursed him with a devotion that no woman could surpass. Two days ago we thought him almost well. He talked of what it would bebest to do when the siege was raised, so as to complete his recovery. And now he is dead. He was only thirty. What is to most distinguishedmen the best part of life was still before him. In eight working yearshe had already made a name known to all the Army and to thousandsbeyond its limits. Beyond question he had the touch of genius. Theindividuality of his power perhaps lay in a clear perception transfusedwith an imaginative wit that never failed him. The promise of thatgenius was not fulfilled, but it was felt in all he said and wrote. Andbeyond this power of mind he possessed the attractiveness of courtesyand straightforward dealing. No one ever knew him descend to the tricksand dodges of the trade. There was not a touch of "smartness" in hisdisposition. On the field he was too reckless of his life. I saw himoften during the fighting at Elands Laagte, Tinta Inyoni, and Lombard'sKop. He was usually walking about close to the firing line, leading hisgrey horse, a conspicuous mark for every bullet. Veteran officers usedto marvel that he was not hit. In the midst of it all he would standquite unconcerned, and speak in his usual voice--slow, trenchant, restrained by a cynicism that came partly from youth and an Englishhorror of fuss. How different from the voice of unconsciousness which Iheard raving in his room only this morning!

To-night we buried him. The coffin was not ready till half-past eleven. All the London correspondents came, and a few officers, ColonelStoneman (A. S. C. ) and Major Henderson, of the Intelligence Department, representing the Staff. Many more would have come, but nearly the wholegarrison was warned for duty. About twenty-five of us, all mounted, followed the little glass hearse with its black and whiteembellishments. The few soldiers and sentries whom we passed halted andgave the last salute. There was a full moon, covered with clouds, thatlet the light through at their misty edges. A soft rain fell as welowered the coffin by thin ropes into the grave. The Boer searchlight onBulwan was sweeping the half circle of the English defences from end toend, and now and then it opened its full white eye upon us, as thoughthe enemy wondered what we were doing there. We were laying to rest aman of assured, though unaccomplished genius, whose heart had still beenfull of hopes and generosity. One who had not lost the affections andcharm of youth, nor been dulled either by success or disappointment. 

 "From the contagion of the world's slow stain He is secure; and now can never mourn A heart grown old, a head grown grey, in vain-- Nor when the spirit's self has ceased to burn With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn. "

 _January 16, 1900_. 

A day of unfulfilled expectation, unrelieved even by lies and rumours. From the top of Observation Hill I again watched the Dutch in theirclustered camps, fourteen miles away across the great plain, whilst ourheliograph flashed to us from the dark hill beyond them. But there wasno sound of the expected guns, and every one lost heart a little. 

At the market, eggs were a guinea a dozen. Four pounds of oatmeal soldfor 11s. 6d. A four-ounce tin of English tobacco fetched 30s. Out of ouroriginal numbers of about 12, 000 nearly 3, 000 are now sick or wounded atIntombi, and there are over 200 graves there. More helpers are wanted, and to-day Colonel Stoneman summoned 150 loafers from their holes in theriver-bank, and called for twenty volunteers. No one came, so he hasstopped their rations till they can agree among themselves to producethe twenty ready to start. 

 _January 17, 1900. _

The far-off mutter of Buller's guns began at half-past five a. M. , andlasted nearly all day. From King's Post I watched the stretch ofplain--Six Mile Flats, the official map calls it--leading away toPotgieter's Drift, where his troops are probably crossing. I could seethree of the little Dutch camps, and here and there bodies of Boersmoving over the country. Suddenly in the midst of the plain, just ourside of the camp near "Wesse's Plantation, " a great cloud of smoke anddust arose, and slowly drifted away. Beyond doubt, it was the burstingof a British shell. Aimed at the camp it overshot the mark, and landedon the empty plain. As a messenger of hope to us all it was not lost. The distance was only fourteen miles from where I stood--a morning'swalk--less than an hour and a half's ride. Yet our relief may take manydays yet, and it will cost hundreds of lives to cross that little space. The Boers have placed a new gun on the Bluebank ridge. It is disputedwhether it faces us or Buller's line of approach over the Great Plain. The whole ridge is now covered from end to end with walls, traverses, and sangars. 

 _January 18, 1900. _

In the early morning the welcome sound of Buller's guns was not sofrequent as yesterday. But it continued steadily, and between four andfive increased to an almost unbroken thunder. From the extremity ofWaggon Hill, I watched the great cloud of dust and smoke which rose fromthe distant plain as each shell burst. The Dutch camps were still inposition, and we could only conjecture that the British were trying toclear the river-bank and the hills commanding it, so as to secure thepassage of the ford. 

While I was there the enemy threw several shrapnel over the RifleBrigade outpost. Major Brodiewald, Brigade Major to the Natal Volunteersunder Colonel Royston, was sitting on the rocks watching Buller's shellslike myself. A shrapnel bullet struck him in the mouth and passed out atthe back of his neck. He was carried down the hill, his blood drippingupon the stones along the track. In the afternoon one of the bluejacketswas also seriously wounded by shrapnel. The bombardment was heavy allday, the Bulwan gun firing right over Convent Hill and plunging shellsinto the Naval Camp, the Leicesters, and the open ground nearHeadquarters. It looks as if a spy had told where the General and Staffare to be found. 

The market quotations at this evening's auction were fluctuating. Eggssprang up from a guinea to 30s. A dozen. Jam started at 30s. The 6lb. Jar. Maizena was 5s. A pound. On the other hand, tobacco fell. Egyptiancigarettes were only 1s. Each, and Navy Cut went for 4s. An ounce. During a siege one realises how much more than bread, meat, and water isrequired for health. Flour and trek-ox still hold out, and we receivethe regulation short rations. Yet there is hardly one of us who is nottortured by some internal complaint, and many die simply for want ofcommon little luxuries. In nearly all cases where I have been able totry the experiment I have cured a man with any little variety I had instore or could procure--rice, chocolate, cake, tinned fruit, or soups. Iwonder how the enemy are getting on with the biltong and biscuit. 

 _January 19, 1900. _

Before noon, as I rode round the outposts, I found the good news flyingthat good news had come. It was thought best not to tell us what, lest, like children, we should cry if disappointed. But it is confidently saidthat Buller's force has crossed the Tugela in three places--Wright'sDrift eastward, Potgieter's Drift in the centre, and at a point furtherwest, perhaps Klein waterfall, where there is a nine-mile plain leadingto Acton Homes. The names of the brigades are even stated, and thenumber of losses. It is said the Boers have been driven from twopositions. But there may not be one word of truth in the whole story. 

I was early on Observation Hill, watching that strip of plain to thesouth-west. No shells were bursting on it to-day, and the sound of gunswas not so frequent. Our heliograph flashed from the far-off Zwartz Kop, and high above it, looking hardly bigger than a vulture against the paleblue of the Drakensberg precipices, rose Buller's balloon, showing justa point of lustre on its skin. 

The view from Observation Hill is far the finest, but the whiz ofbullets over the rocks scarcely ever stops, and now and again a shellcomes screaming into the rank grass at one's feet. 

To-day we enjoyed a further variety, well worth the risk. At the foot ofSurprise Hill, hardly 1, 500 yards from our position, the Boers haveplaced a mortar. Now and then it throws a huge column of smoke straightup into the air. The first I thought was a dynamite explosion, but aftera few seconds I heard a growing whisper high above my head, as though afalling star had lost its way, and plump came a great shell into thegrass, making a 3ft. Hole in the reddish earth, and bursting with no endof a bang. We collected nearly all the bits and fitted them together. It was an eight or nine-inch globe, reminding one of those "bomb-shells"which heroes of old used to catch up in their hands and plunge intowater-buckets. The most amusing part of it was the fuse--a thick plug ofwood running through the shell and pierced with the flash-channel downits centre. It was burnt to charcoal, but we could still make out theholes bored in its side at intervals to convert it into a time-fuse. This is the "one mortar" catalogued in our Intelligence book. It wassatisfactory to have located it. Two guns of the 69th Battery threwshrapnel over its head all morning; then the Naval guns had a turn andseem to have reduced it to silence. 

In the afternoon there was an auction of Steevens's horses and campequipment. Many officers came, and the usual knot of greedy civilians onthe look-out for a bargain. As auctioneer I had great satisfaction inrunning the prices up beyond their calculation. But in another way theygot the best of the old country to-day. Colonel Stoneman, havingdiscovered a hidden store of sugar, was selling it at the fair price of4d. A pound to any one who pledged his word he was sick and in need ofit. Round clustered the innocent local dealers with sick and sorrylooks, swearing by any god they could remember that sugar alone wouldsave their lives, paid their fourpences, and then sold the stuff for 2s. Outside the door. 

 _January 20, 1900. _

Again I was on Observation Hill two or three times in the day. It isimpossible to keep away from it long. The rumble of the British guns wasloud but intermittent, but the Boer camps remain where they were. Withus the bombardment continued pretty steadily. After a silence of twodays "Puffing Billy, " of Bulwan, threw one shell into the town and sixamong the Devons. His usual answer to the report that he has wornhimself out or been carried away. Whilst he was firing I tried to getsight of a small mocking bird, which has learnt to imitate the warningwhistle of the sentries. In the Gordons the Hindoo, Purriboo Singh, fromBenares, stands on a huge heap of sacks under an umbrella all day andscreams when he sees the big gun flash. But in the other camps, as Ihave mentioned, a sentry gives warning by blowing a whistle. The mockingbird now sounds that whistle at all times of the day, and what is evenmore perplexing, he is learning to imitate the scream and buzzle of theshell through the air. He may learn the explosion next. I mention thispeculiar fact for the benefit of future ornithologists, who mightotherwise be puzzled at his form of song. 

Another interesting event in natural history occurred a short time agoup the Port road. A Bulwan shell, missing the top of Convent Hill, lobbed over and burst at random with its usual din and circumstance. People rushed up to see what damage it had done, but they only found twolittle dead birds--one with a tiny hole in her breast, the other with aneye knocked out. Ninety-six pounds of iron, brass, and melinite, hurledfour miles through the air, at unknown cost, just to deal a true-lovers'death to two sparrows, five of which are sold for one farthing!

 _Sunday, January 21, 1900. _

After varying my trek-ox rations by catching a kind of barbel with aworm in the yellow Klip, I went again to Observation Hill, and with thegreater interest because every one was saying two of the Boer camps werein flames. Of course it was a lie. The camps stood in their usual placesquite undisturbed. But I saw one of our great shells burst high up themountain side of Taba Nyama (Black Mountain) instead of on the plain atits foot, and with that sign of forward movement I was obliged to becontent. 

CHAPTER XVIII

"WITHIN MEASURABLE DISTANCE"

 _January 22, 1900. _

Twelve weeks to-day since Black Monday, when our isolation really began!A heliogram came from Buller to say all was going well, and in thisevening's Orders we were officially informed that relief is "withinmeasurable distance. " I don't know about time, but in space thatmeasurable distance is hardly more than fifteen miles. From ObservationHill I again watched the British shells breaking over the ridge abovethe ford. The Boers had moved one of their waggon laagers a littlefurther back, but the main camps were unchanged. With a telescope Icould make out where their hospital was--in a cottage by a wood--and Ifollowed an ambulance waggon driving at a trot to three or four pointson ridge and plain, gathering up the sick or wounded, and returning tohospital. 

The mass of Boers appeared to be lying under the shelter of Taba Nyama(or Intaba Mnyama--Black Mountain). It is a nine-mile range of hillsrunning east and west, nearly parallel to the Tugela, and havingPotgieter's Drift on its left. The left extremity, looking over theDrift, rises into double peaks, and is called Mabedhlane, or the Paps, by Zulus. The main Boer position appears to be halfway up these peaksand along the range to their right. To-day it is said that the relievingforce intends to approach the mountain by parallels, sapping and miningas it goes, and treating the positions like a medięval fortress, or oneof those ramparted and turreted cities which "Uncle Toby" used tobesiege on the bowling green. 

One's only fear is about the delay. The population at Intombi is nowapproaching 4, 000, nearly 3, 000 being sick. I doubt if we could put4, 000 men in the field to-day. Men and horses crawl feebly about, shakenwith every form of internal pain and weakness. Women suffer even more. The terror of the shells has caused thirty-two premature births sincethe siege began. It is true a heliogram to-day tells us there areseventy-four big waggons waiting at Frere for our relief--milk, vegetables, forage, eleven waggons of rum, fifty cases of whisky, 5, 000cigarettes, and so on. But all depends upon those parallels, so slowlyadvancing against Taba Nyama, and our insides are being sapped and minedfar more quickly. 

Towards noon a disaster occurred, which has depressed the whole town. Two of the _Powerful's_ bluejackets have lately been making what theycalled a good thing by emptying unexploded Boer shells of their charges, so that the owners might display them with safety and pride when thesiege is over. For this service they generally received 10s. Each. It isonly two days since they were in my cottage--chiselling out the melinitefrom a complete "Long Tom" shell which alighted in my old Scot's garden. I watched them accomplish that task safely, and this morning they set towork upon a similar shell by order of the Wesleyan minister, who wishedto keep it in his window as a symbol of Christianity. One of the men washolding it between his knees, while the other was quietly chipping away, when suddenly it exploded. Fragments of one of the men strewed theminister's house--the other lay wondering upon the ground, butwithout his legs. Whilst I write he is still nominally alive, and keepsasking for his mate. One of his legs has been picked up near the TownHall--about 150 yards away. 

[Illustration: SPECIMENS OF BOER SHELLS]

A lesser disaster this morning befel Captain Jennings Bramley, of the19th Hussars. Whilst on picket he felt something slide over his legs, and looking up he saw it was a snake over 5ft. Long. The creature atonce raised its head also, and deliberately spat in his face, fillingboth eyes with poison. That is the invariable defence of the "SpittingSnake" (_Rinkholz_ in Dutch, and _Mbamba Twan_ or child catcher inZulu). The pain is agonising. The eye turns red and appears to run withblood, but after a day or two the poison passes off and sight returns. The snake is not otherwise poisonous, but apparently can count onsuccess in its shots at men, leopards, or dogs. 

 _January 23, 1900. _

Soon after dawn our own guns along the northern defences from TunnelHill to King's Post woke me with an extraordinary din. They could nothave made more noise about another general attack, but there was norifle fire. Getting up very unwillingly at 4. 30 a. M. , I climbed upJunction Hill and looked up the Broad valley, but not a single Boer wasin sight. The firing went on till about six, and then abruptly ceased. Iheard afterwards that Buller had asked us to keep as many Boers here aspossible. I suppose we expended about 200 rounds of our preciousammunition. A cool and cloudy sky made the heliograph useless, but inthe night the clouds had served to reflect the brilliance of Buller'ssearchlight. 

So far the Boers have passed us all round in strategy, but insearchlights they are nowhere, though Bulwan makes a grand attempt. Allday from King's Post or Waggon Hill I watched the Great Plain of TabaNyama as usual. Now and then we could see the shells bursting, but theBoer camps have not moved. 

The ration coffee has come to an end, except a reserve of 3 cwt, whichwould hardly last a day. The tea ration is again reduced. The flourmixed with mealy meal makes a very sour bread. The big 5th Lancershorses are so hungry that at night they eat not only their picket ropesbut each other's manes and tails. They are so weak that they fall threeor four times in an hour if the men ride them. Enteric is not quite sobad as it was, but dysentery increases. The numbers of military sickalone at Intombi, not counting all the sick in the camps and hospitalshere, are 2, 040 to-day. 

 _January 24, 1900. _

The entire interest of the day was centred on Taba Nyama--that blackmountain, commanding the famous drift in its front and the stretch ofplain behind. It is fifteen miles away. From Observation Hill one couldsee the British shells bursting along this ridge all morning, as well asin the midst of the Boer tents half-way down the double peaks, and atthe foot of the hill. The firing began at 3 a. M. , and lasted withextreme severity till noon, the average of audible shells being at leastfive a minute. We could also see the white bursts of shrapnel from ourfield artillery. In the afternoon I went to Waggon Hill, and with thehelp of a telescope made out a large body of men--about 1, 000 Isuppose--creeping up the distant crest and spreading along the summit. Icould only conjecture them to be English from their presence on theexposed ridge, and from their regular though widely extended formation. They were hardly visible except as a series of black points. Thunderclouds hung over the Drakensberg behind, and the sun wasobscured. Yet I had no doubt in my own mind that the position was won. It was five o'clock, or a little later. 

Others saw large parties of Boers fleeing for life up dongas and overplains, the phantom carriage-and-four driving hastily north-westwardafter an urgent warning, and other such melodramatic incidents, whichescaped my notice. The position of the falling shells, and the movementof those minute black specks were to me enough of drama for one day'slife. 

In the evening, I am told, the General received a signal from Buller:"Have taken hill. Fight went well. " No one thought or talked of anythingbut the prospect of near relief. Yet (besides old Bulwan's violentbombardment of the station) there was one other event in the daydeserving record. Hearing an unhappy case of an officer's widow leftdestitute, Colonel Knox, commanding the Divisional Troops, has offeredtwelve bottles of whisky for auction to-morrow, and hopes to make £100by the sale. I think he will succeed, unless Buller shakes the market. 

 _January 25, 1900. _

Before 6 a. M. I was on Observation Hill again, watching. One hopefulsign was at once obvious. The Boer waggon-laagers were breaking up. Thetwo great lines of waggons between the plantations near Pinkney's farmwere gone. By 6. 30 they were all creeping away with their oxen up a roadthat runs north-west among the hills in the direction of Tintwa Pass. Itwas the most hopeful movement we had yet seen, but one large laager wasstill left at the foot of Fos Kop, or Mount Moriah. 

The early morning was bright, but a mist soon covered the sun. Rainfell, and though the air afterwards was strangely clear, the heliographcould not be used till the afternoon. We were left in uncertainty. Shells were bursting along the ridge of Taba Nyama, on the double peaksand the Boer tents below. Only on the highest point in the centre wecould see no firing, and that in itself was hopeful. About 8 a. M. Thefire slackened and ceased. We conjectured an armistice. Through atelescope we could see little black specks on the centre of the hill;they appeared to be building sangars. The Naval Cone Redoubt, having thebest telescope, report that the walls are facing this way. In that casethe black specks were probably British, and yet not even in the morningsun did we get a word of certainty. We hardly know what to think. 

In the afternoon the situation was rather worse. We saw the shellingbegin again, but no progress seemed to be made. About 4 p. M. Wewitnessed a miserable sight. Along the main track which crosses theGreat Plain and passes round the end of Telegraph Hill, almost withinrange of our guns, came a large party of men tramping through the dust. They were in khaki uniforms, marched in fours, and kept step. Undoubtedly they were British prisoners on their way to Pretoria. Theirnumbers were estimated at fifty, ninety, and 150 by different look-outstations. In front and rear trudged an unorganised gang of Boers, evidently acting as escort. It was a miserable and depressing thing tosee. 

At last a cipher message began to come through on the heliograph. Therewas immense excitement at the Signal Station. The figures were takendown. Colonel Duff buttoned the precious paper in his pocket. Off hegalloped to Headquarters. Major De Courcy Hamilton was called todecipher the news. It ran as follows: "Kaffir deserter from Boer linesreports guns on Bulwan and Telegraph Hills removed!"

It was dated a day or two back. To-day both guns mentioned have beenunusually active. Their shells have been bursting thick among us, andthe sound of their firing must have been quite audible below. Yet thiswas the message. 

Eggs to-night fetched 30s. 6d. Per dozen; a sucking pig 35s. ; a chicken20s. In little over a week we shall have to begin killing our horsesbecause they will have nothing to eat. 

 _January 26, 1900. _

Full of hopes and fears, I rode early up to Observation Hill as usual, and saw at once that the Boer waggon-laagers, which I watched departingyesterday, had returned in the night. Perhaps there were not quite somany waggons, and the site had been shifted a few hundred yards. Butstill there they stood again. Their presence is not hopeful, but it doesnot imply disaster. They may have gone in haste, and been recalled atleisure. Buller may have demanded their return under the conditions of apossible armistice. They may even have found the passes blocked by ourmen. Anyhow, there they are, and their return is the only important newsof the day. 

No message or tidings came through. The day was cloudy, and ended inquiet rain. We saw a few shells fall on the plain at the foot of TabaNyama, and what looked like a few on the summit. But nothing else couldbe made out, except that the Boer ambulances were very busy drivinground. 

Among ourselves the chief event was the feverish activity of theTelegraph Hill big gun. Undeterred by our howitzers, he continued nearlyall morning throwing shells at every point within sight. By one supremeeffort, tilting his nose high up into the air, he threw one sheer up tothe Manchesters on Cęsar's Camp--a range of some 12, 000 yards, thegunners say. Perhaps he was trying to make up for the silence of hisBulwan brother. It is rumoured that Pepworth Hill is to have a successorto the "Long Tom" of earlier and happier days. Six empty waggons withdouble spans of oxen were seen yesterday wending towards Bulwan. 

Our hunger is increasing. Men and horses suffer horribly from weaknessand disease. About fifteen horses die a day, and the survivors gasp andcough at every step, or fall helpless. 

Biscuits are to be issued to-night instead of bread, because flour isrunning short. It is believed that not 500 men could be got togethercapable of marching five miles under arms, so prevalent are all diseasesof the bowels. As to luxuries, even the cavalry are smoking the usedtea-leaves out of the breakfast kettles. "They give you a kind of hottaste, " they say. 

 _January 27, 1900. _

I was again on Observation Hill, watching. Nothing had changed, andthere was no sign of movement. The Boers rode to and fro as usual, andtheir cattle grazed in scattered herds. Now and then a big gun fired, but I could see no bursting shells, and the sound seemed further away. Icrossed the broad valley to Leicester Post. Our cattle and horses weretrying to pick up a little grass there, while the howitzer and automatic"pom-pom" shelled them from Surprise Hill. "Pom-poms" are elegant littleshells, about five inches long, and some with pointed heads weredesigned for the British Navy, but rejected. The cattle sniff at theminquisitively, and Kaffirs rush for a perfect specimen, which fetchesfrom 10s. To 30s. For they are suitable presents for ladies, butunhappily all that fell near me to-day exploded into fragments. 

The telescope on Leicester Post showed me nothing new. Not a single manwas now to be seen on Spion Kop or the rest of Taba Nyama. At twoo'clock the evil news reached us. The heliograph briefly told thestory; the central hill captured by the British on Wednesday afternoon, recaptured at night by the Boers, and held by them ever since. Our lossabout five hundred and some prisoners. 

It was the worst news we have yet received, all the harder to bearbecause our hopes had been raised to confidence. It is harder to facedisappointment now than six weeks ago. Even on biscuit and trek-oxen wecan only live for thirty-two days longer, and nearly all the horses mustdie. The worst is that in their sickness and pain the men could hardlyresist another assault. The sickness of the garrison is not to bemeasured by hospital returns, for nearly every one on duty is ill, though he may refuse to "go sick. " The record of Intombi Camp is notcheering. The total of military sick to-day is 1, 861, including 828cases of enteric, 259 cases of dysentery, and 312 wounded. The numbershave slightly diminished lately because an average of fourteen a dayhave been dying, and all convalescents are hurried back to Ladysmith. The number of graves down there now is 282 for men and five forofficers, but deaths increase so fast that long trenches are dug, andthe bodies laid in two rows, one above the other. "You see, " said thegravedigger, "I'm goin' to put Patrick O'Connor here with DanielMurphy. "

 _Sunday, January 28, 1900. _

From my station on Observation Hill I could see a new Boer laager drawnup, about six miles away, at the far end of the Long Valley. Otherwiseall remains quiet and unmoved. Three or four distant guns were heard inthe afternoon, but that was all. 

On the whole the spirit of the garrison was much more cheerful. We beganto talk again of possible relief within a week. The heliograph brought amessage of thanks from Lord Roberts for our "heroic, splendid defence. "Every one felt proud and happy. The words were worth a fresh brigade. 

In the morning a consultation was held on the condition of the cavalryhorses. At first it was determined to kill three hundred, so as to savefood for the rest, but afterwards the orders were to turn them out onthe flat beyond the racecourse, and let them survive if they could. Theartillery horses must be fed as long as possible. The unfortunate walersof the 19th Hussars will probably be among the first to go. Comingstraight from India, they were put to terribly hard work on landing, and have never recovered. Walers cannot do on grass which keeps localhorses and even Arabs fat enough. What the average horse is chieflysuffering from now is a kind of influenza, accompanied by a frightfulcough. My own talking horse kept trying to lie down to-day, and said hefelt languid and queer. When he endeavoured to trot or canter a coughtook him fit to break his mother's heart. 

CHAPTER XIX

HOPE DEFERRED

 _January 29, 1900. _

The only change to-day was the steady passage of Boers westward, toconcentrate afresh round Taba Nyama. Their new laager up the Long Valleyhad disappeared. Large bodies of men had been seen coming up fromColenso. The crisis of the war in Natal is evidently near. MeantimeKaffir deserters brought in a lot of chatter about the recent fighting. On one point they generally agreed--that Kruger himself was with hismen. It is very likely. The staunch old prophet and patriot would hardlystay away when the issue involves the existence of his people. 

But when the Kaffirs go on to say that Kruger, Joubert, and Steyn stoodtogether on Mount Moriah (Loskop) to witness the battle, the additionmay be only picturesque. It would be well if that were the worst fictioncredulity swallowed. One of the head nurses from Intombi told me to-daythat the Boers had bribed an old herbalist--she thought at Dundee orsomewhere--to reveal a terrible poison, into which they dipped theircartridges, and even the bullets inside their shrapnel! To this sheattributed the suppuration of several recent wounds. Of the garrison'sunhealthy condition she took no account whatever. No, it was poison. Shehad heard the tale somewhere--from a railway official, she thought--andbelieved it with the assurance of the Christian verity. Nearly every oneis like that, and the wildest story finds disciples. 

Rations are again reduced to-day to the following quantities: tinnedmeat 1/2 lb. , or fresh meat 1 lb. ; biscuit 1/2 lb. , or bread 1 lb. ; tea, 1/6 oz. ; sugar, 1-1/2 ozs. ; salt, 1/2 oz. , and pepper 1/36 oz. 

It has also been decided to turn all the horses out to grass, except theartillery, three hundred from the cavalry, seventy officers' chargers, and twenty engineers' draught. These few are to be kept fed with rationsof 3 lbs. Of mealies, 4 lbs. Of chaff, 16 lbs. Of grass, 1-1/2 ozs. Ofsalt. The artillery horses will get 2 lbs. Of oats or bran besides. Inthe Imperial Light Horse they are killing one of their horses everyother day, and eating him. 

 _January 30, 1900. _

Mortals depend for their happiness not only on their circulation but onthe weather. To-day was certainly the gloomiest in all the siege. Itrained steadily night and morning, the steaming heat was overpowering, and we sludged about, sweating like the victims of a foul Turkish bath. Towards evening it suddenly turned cold. Black and dismal clouds hungover all the hills. The distance was fringed with funereal indigo. Thewearied garrison crept through their duties, hungry and gaunt as ghosts. There was no heliograph to cheer us up, and hardly a sound of distantguns. The rumour had got abroad that we were to be left to our fate, whilst Roberts, with the main column, diverted all England's thoughts toBloemfontein. Like one man we lost our spirits, our hopes, and ourtempers. 

The depression probably arose from the reduction of rations which Imentioned yesterday. The remaining food has been organised to lastanother forty-two days, and it is, of course, assumed we shall have touse it all, whereas the new arrangement is only a precaution. ColonelWard and Colonel Stoneman are not to be caught off their guard. One oftheir chief difficulties just now is the large body of Indians--bearers, sais, bakers, servants of all kinds--who came over with the troops, andwill not eat the sacred cow. Out of about 2, 000, only 487 will consentto do that. The remainder can only get very little rice and mealies. Their favourite ghi, or clarified butter, has entirely gone, and theirhunger is pitiful. The question now is whether or not their religiousscruples will allow them to eat horse. 

Most of us have been eating horse to-day with excellent result. But oneof the most pitiful things I have seen in all the war was theastonishment and terror of the cavalry horses at being turned loose onthe hills and not allowed to come back to their accustomed lines atnight. All afternoon one met parties of them strolling aimlessly aboutthe roads or up the rocky footpaths--poor anatomies of death, withskeleton ribs and drooping eyes. At about seven o'clock two or threehundred of them gathered on the road through the hollow between ConventHill and Cove Redoubt, and tried to rush past the Naval Brigade tothe cavalry camp, where they supposed their food and grooming andcheerful society were waiting for them as usual. They had to be drivenback by mounted Basutos with long whips, till at last they turnedwearily away to spend the night upon the bare hillside. 

[Illustration: INDIAN BAKERY]

 _January 31, 1900. _

Again the sky was clouded, and except during an hour's sunshine in theafternoon no heliograph could work. But below the clouds the distancewas singularly clear, and one could see all the Dutch camps, and theBoers moving over the plain. The camps are a little reduced. Only fourtents are left in the white string that hung down the side of TabaNyama. 

Two parties, of forty Boers apiece, passed north along the road behindTelegraph Ridge whilst I was on Observation Hill in the morning. Butthere was no special meaning in their movements, and absolutely no newscame in. Only rumours, the rumours of despair--Warren surrounded, Buller's ammunition train attacked and cut to pieces, the wholerelieving force in hopeless straits. 

In the town and camps things went on as usual, under a continued weightof depression. The cold and wet of the night brought on a terribleincrease of dysentery, and I never saw the men look so wretched andpinched. When officers in high quarters talk magnificently about theexcellent spirits of the troops, I think they do not always realise whatthose excellent spirits imply. I wish they had more time to visit theremnants of battalions defending the hills--out in cold and rain allnight, out in the blazing sun all day, with nothing to look forward tobut a trek-ox or a horse stewed in unseasoned water, two biscuits orsome sour bread, and a tasteless tea, generally half cold. No beer, notobacco, no variety at all. To me, one of the highest triumphs of thesiege is the achievement of MacNalty, a young lieutenant of the ArmyService Corps. For nights past he has been working in the station engineshed at an apparatus of his own invention for boiling down horses intosoup. After many experiments in process and flavouring, and manydisappointments, he has secured an admirable essence of horse. This willsound familiar and commonplace to people who can get a bottle of suchthings at grocer's, but it may save many a good soldier's life none theless. I hope to see the process at work, and describe it later on. 

Mr. Lines, the town clerk, who has quietly stuck to his duties in spiteof confusion and shells, gave me details to-day of the rations allowedto civilians. During the siege there has been a fairly steady whitepopulation of 560 residents and 540 refugees, or 1, 100 in all. This doesnot include the civilians at Intombi, whose numbers are stillunpublished. Practically all the civilians are drawing rations, forwhich they apply at the market between 5 and 7 p. M. They get groceries, bread or biscuit, and meat in the same quantities as the soldiers. Children under ten receive half rations. Each applicant has to berecommended by the mayor or magistrate, and brings a check with him. Isuppose the promise to pay at the end of the siege is only a nominalformula. 

The civilian Indians and Kaffirs number 150 and 300 respectively, anddraw their rations at the station, the organisation being under MajorThompson, A. C. G. , as is the whole of the milk supply, now set aside forthe sick. The Indian ration is atta, 4 oz. ; rice, 3 oz. ; mealie meal, 9oz. ; salt, 1/2 oz. ; goor, 1-1/4 oz. ; amchur, 1/4 oz. And those who willeat meat get 8 oz. Twice a week instead of mealies. The Kaffir rationis simpler: fresh meat, 1 lb. ; mealie meal, 3/4 lb. ; salt, 1/2 oz. 

 _February 1, 1900. _

How we should have laughed in November at the thought of being shut uphere till February? But here we are, and the outlook grows morehopeless. People are miserably depressed. It would be impossible to getup sports or concerts now. Too many are sick, too many dead. Thelaughter has gone out of the siege, or remains only as bitter laughterwhen the word relief is spoken. We are allowed to know nothing forcertain, but the conviction grows that we are to be left to our fate foranother three weeks at least, while the men slowly rot. A Natal paperhas come in with an account of Buller's defeat at Taba Nyama on the25th. We read with astonishment the loud praises of a masterly retreatover the Tugela without the loss of a single man. When shall we hear ofa masterly advance to our aid? Do we lose no men?

To-day the morning was cold and cloudy, as it has been since Monday, butthe sun broke out for an hour or two, in the afternoon, and officialmessages could be sent through by heliograph. For information andrelief we received the following words, and those only:--

 "German specialist landed Delagoa Bay pledges himself to dam up Klip River and flood Ladysmith out. "

That was all they deigned to tell us. 

 _February 2, 1900. _

After a misty dawn, soaked with minute rain, the sky slowly cleared atlast, letting the merry sunshine through. At once the heliograph beganto flash. I sent off a brief message, and soon afterwards the signal"Line clear" was sent from Zwartz Kop over the Tugela. The "officials"began to arrive, and we hoped for news at last. Three or four messagescame through, but who could have guessed the thrilling importance of thefirst? It ran:--

 "Sir Stafford Northcote, Governor of Bombay, has been made a peer. "

The other messages were vague and dull enough--something about thePrince of Wales reviewing Yeomanry, and the race for some hunt cup inIndia. But that peerage! To a sick and hungry garrison!

We were shot at rather briskly all day by the enemy's guns. The groupsof wandering horses were a tempting aim. The poor creatures still try toget back to their lines, and some of them stand there motionless allday, rather than seek grass upon the hills. The cavalry have madebarbed-wire pens, and collect most of them at night. But many are lost, some stolen, and more die of starvation and neglect. An increasingnumber are killed for rations, and to-day twenty-eight were speciallyshot for the chevril factory. I visited the place this afternoon. Thelong engine-shed at the station has been turned to use. Only one engineremains inside, and that is used as a "bomb-proof, " under which allhands run when the shelling is heavy. Into other engine-pits cauldronshave been sunk, constructed of iron trolleys without their wheels, andplastered round with clay. A wood fire is laid along under thecauldrons, on the same principle as in a camp kitchen. The horseflesh isbrought up to the station in huge red halves of beast, run into theshed on trucks, cut up by the Kaffirs, who also pound the bones, throwninto the boiling cauldron, and so--"Farewell, my Arab steed!"

There is not enough hydrochloric or pepsine left in the town to make atrue extract of horse, but by boiling and evaporation the strength israised till every pint issued will make three pints of soup. A punkah isto be fitted to make the evaporation more rapid, and perhaps my horsewill ultimately appear as a jelly or a lozenge. But at present the stuffis nothing but a strong kind of soup, and at the first issue to-day themen had to carry it in the ordinary camp-kettles. 

Every man in the garrison to-night receives a pint of horse essence hot. I tasted it in the cauldron, straight from the horse, and found it sosustaining that I haven't eaten anything since. The dainty Kaffirs andColonial Volunteers refuse to eat horse in any form. But the sensibleBritish soldier takes to it like a vulture, and begs for the lumps ofstewed flesh from which the soup has been made. With the joke, "Mindthat stuff; it kicks!" he carries it away, and gets a chance, as hesays, of filling--well, we know what he says. The extract has aregistered label:--

[Illustration: Superior Ladysmith

CHEVRIL

RESURGAM

Trade Mark

"The Iron Horse"]

Under the signature of Aduncus Bea and Co. Acute signallers willrecognise the official title of Colonel Ward. 

Since the beginning of the siege one of the saddest sights has been theBoer prisoners lounging away their days on the upper gallery of thegaol. They have been there since Elands Laagte, nearly four months now, with no news, nothing to do, and nothing to see except one little bit ofroad visible over the wall. 

The solitude has so unnerved them that when the shells fall near thegaol or whiz over the roof the prisoners are said to howl and scream. Onvisiting them to-day I found that only seven real prisoners of war areleft here, the others being suspects or possible traitors, arrested onsuspicion of signalling or sending messages to the enemy. Among them isthe French deserter I mentioned weeks ago. The little man is muchreduced in girth, and terribly lonely among the Dutch, but he appears togrow no wiser for solitude and low living. 

Among the twenty-three suspects it was pleasant to see one new arrivalwho has been the curse of the town since the beginning of the siege, when he went about telling the terrified women and children that if theywere not blown to bits by the shells the Boers would soon get them. Sohe has gone on ever since, till to-day Colonel Park, of the Devons, hadhim arrested for the military offence of "causing despondency. " He hadkept asking the Devons when they were going to run away, and how theywould like the walk to Pretoria when Ladysmith surrendered. There areabout thirty Kaffirs also in the prison, chiefly thieves, but somesuspects. They are kept in the women's quarters, for the kind of womanwho fills Kaffir gaols has lifted up her blankets and gone to Maritzburgor Intombi Camp. 

CHAPTER XX

SUN AND FEVER

 _February 3, 1900. _

The day was fairly quiet. Old "Bulwan Billy" did not fire at us at all, and there was no movement in the distant Boer camps, though theuniversal belief is that the enemy is concentrating round Ladysmith fora fresh attack. 

In the evening the rations were issued to the civilians under MajorThompson's new regulations in the Market House. Each child, or whoeverelse is sent, now brings his ticket; it is verified at a table, the costis added daily to each account, the child is sent on down the shed todraw his allowance of tea and sugar, his loaf, and bit of horse. Theorganisation is admirable, but one feels it comes a little late in theday. The same is true of the new biscuit tins which are to be put up asletter-boxes about the camp for a local post, and of the new plan ofmaking sandals for the men out of flaps of saddles and the buckets forcavalry carbines. For a fortnight past, 120 of the Manchesters have gonebarefoot among the rocks. 

 _Sunday, February 4, 1900. _

The sun shone. Women and children went up and down the street. I evensaw two white-petticoated girls climbing the rocks of Cove Redoubt toget a peep at "Princess Victoria"--otherwise "Bloody Mary. " It was a dayof peace, but every one believes it to be the last. To-night an attackis confidently expected. The Boers are concentrating on the north-west. A new gun was seen yesterday moving towards Thornhill's Kopje, andsounds of building with stones were heard there last night. It isthought the attack will be upon the line from Observation Hill to RangePost. Every available man is warned. Even the military prisoners arereleased and sent on duty again. The pickets are doubled and pushed farout. A code of signals by rocket has been arranged to inform Buller ofwhat is going on. It is felt that this is the enemy's last chance ofdoing so big a thing as capturing this garrison. 

But all that is still uncertain, and in the quiet afternoon I harnessedup my cart for a gentle drive with Sergeant-Gunner Boseley, of the 53rdBattery. He is a red Irishman, born at Maidstone, and has done elevenyears' service. During the attack on the 6th he was sitting beside hisgun waiting for Major Abdy's word to fire in his turn, when a 96lb. Shell from "Bulwan" struck him in its flight, and shattered his left armand leg. He says he was knocked silly, and felt a bit fluttered, but hadno pain till they lifted him into the dhoolie. He broke the record, Ibelieve, by surviving a double amputation on the same side, which lefthim only about 6 in. Of thigh and 4 in. Of arm. For every movement he ishelpless as a log. Four of us hoisted him into the cart, and then wedrove round to see his old battery, where the greetings of his mateswere brief, emphatic, and devoid of all romance. We then went up to thetin camp, and round the main positions, which he regarded with silentequanimity. I thought he was bored by the familiar scene, but at the endhe told me he had enjoyed it immensely, never having seen Ladysmith bydaylight before! The man is now in magnificent health, rosy as a rose, and no doubt has a great career before him as a wonder from the war. 

 _February 5, 1900. _

The noise of guns boomed all day from the Tugela. It sounded as though abattle was raging along miles of its banks, from Colenso right away westto Potgieter's Drift. I could see big shells bursting again on TabaNyama and the low nek above the ford. Further to the left they werebursting around Monger's Hill, nearly half-way along the bank toColenso. From early morning the fire increased in intensity, reachingits height between 3 and 4 p. M. At half-past four the firing suddenlyslackened and stopped. That seems like victory, but we can only hope. 

 _February 6, 1900. _

Firing was again continuous nearly all day along the Tugela, except thatthere appeared to be a pause of some hours before and after midday. Thedistance was hazy, and light was bad. The heliograph below refused totake or send messages, and we had no definite news. But at night it wasconfidently believed that relief was some miles nearer than in themorning. For myself, the sun and fever had hold of me, and I could onlystand on Observation Hill and watch the far-off bursting of shells andthe flash of a great gun which the Boers have placed in a mountainniche upon the horizon to our left of Monger's Hill, overlooking theTugela. Sickness brought despondency, and I seemed only to see ourcountrymen throwing away their lives in vain against the defences of agallant people fighting for their liberty. 

One cannot help noticing the notable change of feeling towards the enemywhich the war has brought. The Boers, instead of being spoken of as"ignorant brutes" and "cowards" have become "splendid fellows, "admirable alike for strategy and courage. The hangers-on of Johannesburgcapitalism have to keep their abusive contempt to themselves now, buthappily only one or two of them have cared to remain in the beleagueredtown. 

At a mess where I was to-night, all the officers but one agreed therewas not much glory in this war for the British soldier. It would only beremembered as the fine struggle of an untrained people for their libertyagainst an overwhelming power. The defence of the Tyrol against Ney wasquoted as a parallel. The Colonel, it is true, pathetically anxious tojustify everything to his mind and conscience, and trying to hate theenemy he was fighting, stuck to his patriotic protests; but he wasalone, and the conversation was significant of a very general change. Not that this prevents any one from longing for Buller's victory and ourrelief, though the field were covered with the dead defenders of theirfreedom. 

 _February 7, 1900. _

We have now but one thought--is it possible for Buller to force his wayacross that line of hills overlooking the Tugela? The nearest summitsare not more than ten miles away. We could ride out there in little morethan an hour and join hands with our countrymen and the big worldoutside. Yet the barrier remains unbroken. Firing continued nearly allday, except in the extreme heat of afternoon. We could watch the columnsof smoke thrown up by the Boers' great gun, still fixed above that nicheupon the horizon. The Dutch camps were unmoved, and at the extremity ofthe Long Valley a large new camp with tents and a few waggons appearedand increased during the day. Some thought it was a hospital camp, butit was more likely due to a general concentration in the centre. Hereand there we could see great shells bursting, and even shrapnel. Thesound of rifles and "pom-poms" was often reported. Yet I could not seeany real proof of advance. Perhaps fever and sun blind me to hope, forthe staff are very confident still. They even lay odds on a celebrationof victory next Sunday by the united forces, and I hear that Sir Georgeis practising the Hundredth Psalm. 

 _February 8 to February 24, 1900. _

I had hoped to keep well all through the siege, so as to see it all fromstart to finish. But now over a fortnight has been lost while I havebeen lying in hospital, suffering all the tortures of Montjuich, "Atouch of sun, " people called it, combined with some impalpable kind ofmalaria. On the 8th I struggled up Cęsar's Camp again, and saw partiesof Boers burning all the veldt beyond Limit Hill, apparently to preventus watching the movements of the trains at their railhead. On the 9th Icould not stand, and the bearers, with their peculiar little chant, tokeep them out of step, brought me down to the Congregational Chapel in adhoolie. There I still lie. The Hindoo sweepers creep about, raising acontinual dust; they fan me sleepily for hours together with a look ofimpenetrable vacancy, and at night they curl themselves on the groundoutside and cough their souls away. The English orderlies stamp andshout, displaying the greatest goodwill and a knowledge of the nervoussystem acquired in cavalry barracks. Far away we hear the sound ofBuller's guns. I did not know it was possible to suffer such atrociousand continuous pain without losing consciousness. 

Of course we have none of the proper remedies for sunstroke--no ice, nosoda-water, and so little milk that it has to be rationed out almost bythe teaspoonful. Now that the fever has begun to subside I can only hopefor a tiny ration of tea, a brown compound called rice pudding, flavoured with the immemorial dust of Indian temples, and a beef-teawhich neighs in the throat. That is the worst of the condition of thesick now; when they begin to mend it is almost impossible to get themwell. There is nothing to give them. At Intombi, I believe it is evenworse than here. The letters I have lately seen from officers recoveringfrom wounds or dysentery or enteric are simply heart-rending in theirappeals. 

 _February 25, 1900. _

Nearly all the patients who have passed through the field hospitalduring the fortnight have been poor fellows shot by snipers in arms orlegs. Except when their wounds are being dressed, they lie absolutelyquiet, sleeping, or staring into vacancy. They hardly ever speak a word, though the beds are only a foot apart. On my left is the fragment of thesergeant gunner whom I took for a drive. His misfortunes and hischeerful indifference to them make him a man of social importance. Heshows with regret how the shell cut in half a marvellous little Burmeselady, whose robes once swept down his arm in glorious blues and reds, but are now lapped over the bone as "flaps. "

Another patient was a shaggy, one-eyed old man, between whose feet aBulwan shell exploded one afternoon as he was walking down the mainstreet. Beyond the shock he was not very seriously hurt, but his calveswere torn by iron and stones. He said he was the one survivor of thefirst English ship that sailed from the Cape with settlers for Natal. Hewas certainly very old. 

On the night of the 22nd a man was brought into the hospital where Ilay--also attacked by sunstroke--his temperature 107 degrees, and allconsciousness happily gone. It was Captain Walker, the clever Irishsurgeon, who has served the Gordons through the siege as no otherregiment has been served, making their bill of health the best, andtheir lines a pleasure to visit. His skill, especially in dysentery, was looked to by many outside the Gordons themselves. Nothing could savehim. He was packed in cold sheets, fanned, and watched day and night. For a few moments he knew me, and reminded me of a story we had laughedover. But yesterday evening, after struggling long for each breath, hedied--one of the best and most useful men in camp. 

If it was fated that I should be laid up for a fortnight or more of thesiege it seems that this was about the best time fate could choose. Fromall the long string of officers, men, telegraph clerks, and civilians, who, with unceasing kindliness have passed beside my bed bringing newsand cheering me up, I have heard but one impression, that this has beenthe dullest and deadliest fortnight of the siege. There has been noattack, no very serious expectation of Buller's arrival. The usualbombardment has gone wearily on. Sometimes six or seven big shells havethundered so close to this little chapel, that the special kind oftorture to which I was being subjected had for a time to be interrupted. Really nothing worthy of note has happened, except the building by theBoers of an incomprehensible work beside the Klip at the foot of Bulwan. About 300 Kaffirs labour at it, with Boer superintendents. It isapparently a dam to stop the river and flood out the town. No doubt itis the result of that German specialist's arrival, of which we heard. 

On coming to my first bit of bread to-day I found it uneatable. In thefortnight it has degenerated simply to ground mealies of maize--just thesame mixture of grit and sticky dough as the peasants in Pindus starveupon. Even this--enough in itself to inflame any English stomach--isreduced to 1/2 lb. A day. As I stood at the gate this afternoon takingmy first breath of air, I watched the weak-kneed, lantern-jawed soldiersgoing round from house to house begging in vain for anything to eat. Yetthey say the health of the camp as a whole has improved. This theyattribute to chevril. 

During my illness, though I cannot fix the exact day, one of the saddestincidents of the siege has happened. My friend Major Doveton, of theImperial Light Horse, a middle-aged professional man from Johannesburg, who had joined simply from patriotism, was badly wounded in the arm inthe great attack of the 6th. Mrs. Doveton applied to Joubert for leaveto cross the Boer lines to see her husband, and bring medicalappliances and food. The leave was granted, and she came. But amputationwas decided upon, and the poor fellow died from the shock. He was a finesoldier, as modest as brave. Often have I seen him out on the hillsidewith his men, quietly sharing in all their hardships and privations. Idon't know why the incident of his wife's passage through the enemy'slines should make his death seem sadder. But it does. On Saturday nightI drove away from the hospital in my cart, though still in great painand hardly able to stand. I was unable to endure the depression of allthe hospital sights and sounds and smells any longer. Perhaps the worstof all is the want of silence and darkness at night. The fever and painboth began to abate directly I got home to my old Scot. 

[Illustration: GENERAL RT. HON. SIR REDVERS HENRY BULLER, V. C. , G. C. B. , K. C. M. G. , K. C. B. ]

CHAPTER XXI

RELIEVED AT LAST

 _Tuesday, February 27, 1900. _

This is Majuba Day, and in the afternoon the garrison was cheered by thenews that Roberts had surrounded Cronje and compelled him to surrender. For ourselves, relief seems as far off as ever, though it is said shellswere seen bursting not far beyond Intombi Camp. The bread rations arecut down again to half, after a few days' rise; though, indeed, they canhardly be called bread rations, for the maize bread was so uneatablethat none is made now. The ration is biscuits and three ounces of mealiemeal for porridge. 

Towards evening I went for my first drive through old familiar scenesthat have come to look quite different now. The long drought has turnedthe country brown, and it is all the barer for the immense amount offirewood that has been cut. It was decided about a week ago not to issueany more horse as rations till the very last of the oxen had beenkilled. 

 _February 28, 1900. _

From early morning it was evident that the Boers were much disturbed inmind. Line after line of waggons with loose strings of mounted men keptmoving from the direction of the Tugela heights above Colenso, steadilywestward, across the top of Long Valley, past the foot of Hussar Hill, out into the main road along the Great Plain, over the Sandspruit Driftat the foot of Telegraph Hill, and so to the branching of the roadswhich might lead either to the Free State passes or to Pepworth Hill andthe railway to the north. All day the procession went on. Howeverincredible it seemed, it was evident that the "Great Trek" had begun atlast. 

Soon after midday a heliogram came through from Buller, saying he hadseverely defeated the enemy yesterday, and believed them to be in fullretreat. Better still, about three the Naval guns on Cove Redoubt andCęsar's Camp (whither "Lady Anne" was removed three days ago) openedfire in rapid succession on the great Bulwan gun. The Boers wereevidently removing him. They had struck a "shearlegs" or derrick uponthe parapet. One of our first shots brought the whole machinery down, and all through the firing of the Naval guns was excellent. 

About six I had driven out (being still enfeebled with fever) to King'sPost, to see the tail-end of the Boer waggons disappear. On returning Ifound all the world running for all they were worth to the lower end ofthe High-street and shouting wildly. The cause was soon evident. Ridingup just past the Anglican Church came a squadron of mounted infantry. They were not our own. Their horses were much too good, and they lookedstrange. Behind them came another and another. They had crossed thedrift that leads to the road along the foot of Cęsar's Camp past Intombito Pieter's, and Colenso. There was no mistake about it. They were theadvance of the relief column, and more were coming behind. It was LordDundonald's Irregulars--Imperial Light Horse, Natal Carbineers, NatalPolice, and Border Mounted Rifles. 

The road was crammed on both sides with cheering and yellingcrowds--soldiers off duty, officers, townspeople, Kaffirs, and coolies, all one turmoil of excitement and joy. By the post office General Whitemet them, and by common consent there was a pause. Most of his Staffwere with him too. In a very few words he welcomed the first visibleevidence of relief. He thanked his own garrison for their splendidservice in the defence, and added that now he would never have to cutdown their rations again, a thing that always went to his heart. 

Then followed roar after roar of cheering--cheers for White, for Buller, for Ward, for many others. Then, all of a sudden, we found ourselvesshouting the National Anthem in every possible key and pitch. Then morecheering and more again. 

But it was getting dark. The General and Staff turned towardsHeadquarters. The new arrivals had to be settled in their quarters forthe night. Most were taken in by the Imperial Light Horse--alas! thereis plenty of room in their camp now! To right and left the squadronswheeled, amid greetings and laughter and endless delight. By eighto'clock the street was almost clear, and there was nothing to show howgreat a change had befallen us. 

About ten a tremendous explosion far away told that the Boers wereblowing up the bridges behind them as they fled. 

And so with to-night the long siege really ends. It is hardly credibleyet. For 118 days we have been cut off from the world. All that time wehave been more or less under fire, sometimes under terrible fire. Whatit will be to mix with the great world again and live each day incomparative security we can hardly imagine at present. But the peculiarepisode called the Siege of Ladysmith is over. 

APPENDIX

APPENDIX

HOW LADYSMITH WAS FED

 LADYSMITH, _March 23, 1900_. 

_Where all worked so well it would be a shame to say Ladysmith was savedby any particular branch of the service--the naval guns, the ArmyService Corps, or the infantry soldier. But it is quite certain thatwithout the strictest control on the food supply we could not have heldout so long, and by the kindness of one whose authority is abovequestion I am able to give the following account of how the town was fedfor the seventeen weeks of the siege. _

THE PROBLEM. 

A celebrated French writer on military matters has said: "There are twowords for war--_le pain et la poudre_. "

In a siege _le pain_ is of even greater importance than _la poudre_, for"hunger is more cruel than the sword, and famine has ruined more armiesthan battle. " Feeding must go on at least three times a day, and everyday, or the men become ineffective, and the hospitals filled. 

At the beginning of November, 1899, Ladysmith, containing over 20, 000souls, with 9, 800 horses and mules, and 2, 500 oxen and a few hundredsheep, was cut off from the outer world, and nothing in the way ofsupplies was brought in for 119 days, except a few cattle which ourguides looted at night from the besieging enemy. The problem was how toutilise the food supplies which were in the place, and those who had themisfortune (or, as some say, the good fortune) to go through that tryingperiod will say that the problem was very satisfactorily solved in spiteof the enormous difficulties the Army Service Corps had to contend with. 

The two senior officers of that corps--Colonel E. W. D. Ward, C. B. , andLieut. -Colonel Stoneman--recognising the possibility of a siege, andalso that a big margin is everything in army administration, had causedenormous quantities of supplies to be sent up from the base toLadysmith. The articles were not even tallied or counted as received, inspite of the remonstrances of the consignors; but by means of Kaffirlabourers, working night and day, the trucks were off-loaded as fast aspossible, and again sent down the line to bring up more food. 

STORES AT THE BEGINNING. 

The quantities of the various articles in hand at the beginning ofNovember were as follows:--

 lbs. Flour 979, 996 Preserved Meat 173, 792 Biscuits 142, 510 Tea 23, 167 Coffee 9, 483 Sugar 267, 699 Salt 38, 741 Maize 3, 965, 400 Bran 923, 948 Oats 1, 270, 570 Hay, &c. 1, 864, 223

and a large amount of medical comforts, such as spirits, wines, arrowroot, sago, beef tea, &c. 

In addition to the above we had rice, _ghi_, _goor_, _atta_, &c. , forthe natives of the Indian contingent. (_Ghi_ is clarified butter;_goor_, unrefined sugar; _atta_ is whole meal. )

At the beginning of the siege the scale of rations was as follows:--

 Bread, 1-1/4 lb, or biscuit, 1 lb. Meat (fresh), 1-1/4 lb. , or preserved meat, 1 lb. { Coffee, 1 oz. , { or { Tea, 1/2 oz. Sugar, 3 oz. Salt, 1/2 oz. Pepper, 1/36 oz. { Vegetables (compressed), 1 oz. , { or { Potatoes, 1/2 lb. 

Cheese, bacon, and jams were frequently issued as an extra, in additionto the above. 

REQUISITIONING. 

The above quantities of articles, large as they appear, would not havesufficed to supply our wants for the long siege. The militaryauthorities therefore very wisely determined at a very early date tomake use of the Requisition. This power of seizing at a certain pricefrom their owners all articles required by the troops has to be usedvery carefully and tactfully, as otherwise the people hide or bury theirgoods. A civilian, commanding the confidence of the people, wasappointed by the local authorities to fix the prices in co-operationwith a military officer, who represented the interests of her Majesty'sGovernment. In this way a large quantity of food, &c. , was obtained at afair price. These quantities were:--

 Cattle, 1, 511. Goats and sheep, 1, 092. Mealies or maize, 1, 517, 996 lbs. Kaffir corn, or a kind of millet, 68, 370 lbs. Boer meal, or coarse wheat-meal, 108, 739 lbs. 

All spirits and wines were taken and a fair price paid. 

In December, when the cases of enteric fever and dysentery began to bevery numerous, it was determined to take possession of the milch cows, and to see that the milk was used for the sick alone. So under thesupervision and control of Colonel Stoneman and Captain Thompson, adairy farm was started, and the milk was issued to civilians andsoldiers alike on medical certificate. Owing to the scarcity of milk, and to the great necessity for it in cases of enteric and dysentery, the dairy farm is still going (March 23, 1900), the owners of the cowsbeing paid 1s. Per quart; a careful account being kept of the milkproduced. 

In connection with the requisitioning of cows by Colonel Stoneman, aquaint incident is recorded. A gentleman of Ladysmith of a stubborntemperament on receiving the requisition wrote to Colonel Stoneman inthe following terms: "SIR, --Neither you nor any one else shall take mycow. If you want milk for your sick apply to Joubert for it. Get outwith you, and get your milk from the Dutch. " The cow was promptly taken. 

POULTRY AND EGGS. 

These soon became very scarce, and the price demanded for eggs wasenormous. The highest price reached was £2 10s. For twelve eggs, butthey were often sold at sums from 30s. To 44s. Per dozen. As eggs wereso important a food in the dietary of the sick, it was determined, underthe authority of the Lieutenant-General commanding, to requisition thepoultry and eggs of those persons who would not sell them at areasonable rate. A good price was paid to the owners for their eggs andchickens, which were issued only on medical certificate. 

A well-known official of the Natal Government Railway had thirty-sixtins of condensed milk. At the auction which took place three times aweek in the town, 6s. 6d. A tin was offered for this, but the unselfishand unsympathetic owner did not consider this price sufficient; hedeclined to sell under 7s. 6d. A tin. This fact being brought to thenotice of Colonel Stoneman, he requisitioned the whole lot at 10d. Atin. 

I have stated that 1, 511 cattle were requisitioned from their owners forslaughter purposes. This was a great trial both to the officer whocarried out this duty and to the owners. The Kaffir lady Ugumba did notwant to part with her pet cow, which was the prop of her house, had beenbred up amongst her children, and had lived in the back yard. The whiteowners discovered suddenly that their cattle were of the very highestbreed, and had been specially imported from England or Holland atenormous cost. However, most of these cattle, except milch cows, had tobe taken. The proprietors of high-bred stock were directed to claimcompensation, over the meat value, from the "Invasion Losses Commission"now sitting. 

FAIR SALE. 

Colonels Ward and Stoneman having requisitioned considerable quantitiesof food-stuffs at the beginning of the siege, they determined to sellsome of them, such as sugar, sardines, &c. , &c. , at the same price aswas paid. One or two fathers with sick children were supplied with 4 oz. Of brandy on medical certificate. There was no liquor to be had in thetown, and the fathers with sick children grew in numbers with suspiciousrapidity. 

In the month of February the pinch began to be felt. Most men werewithout smiles, and most women were scarcely able to suppress theirtears--tears of weakness and exhaustion. The scale of rations was thenreduced to a fine point. Many a man begged for suitable food for hissick wife and little baby, many mothers asked for a little milk andsugar for their young children, and many sick men, both at Intombi andin Ladysmith, wrote, or caused to be written, pathetic letters for"anything in the way of food" that could be granted. 

The "Chevril" factory was started to supply soup, jellies, extracts, andeven marrow bones made from horses; a sausage factory was instituted;and a biltong factory was run in order to utilise the flesh of horseswhich would have otherwise died from starvation. A grass-cutting labourgang was organised to go out and (under fire) cut grass and bring it infor our cattle and horses; a wood-cutting labour gang went out daily andcut wood for fuel--being "sniped at" by the Boers constantly; mills wereworked by the A. S. C. For the purpose of grinding maize, &c. , as food;arrangements were made by the A. S. C. For a pure water supply by means ofcondensation and filtration; coffee was made by roasting and grindingmealies; the gluten necessary to maize to make bread was supplied byColman's starch; and in short nothing was left undone that ingenuitycould devise. 

LOWEST RATIONS. 

And yet, in spite, of all that human power could do, as the days draggedout the supplies grew shorter. The scale of rations, much to the sorrowof the lieut. -general commanding, had been several times reduced, andonce more, on February 27, it was again found necessary to cut themdown, with a view to holding out until April if necessary. On that daythe ration scale was as follows per man, per day, this being the extremelimit:--

 For Whites--Biscuit, 1/4 lb. ; Maize meal, 3 oz. For Indians and Kaffirs--Maize meal, 8 oz. Europeans--Fresh meat, 1 lb. Kaffirs--Fresh meat, 1-1/4 lbs. (Chiefly horseflesh. ) For White men--Coffee or tea, 1/12 oz. ; pepper, 1/64 oz. ; salt, 1/3 oz. ; sugar, 1 oz. ; mustard, 1/20 oz. ; Vinegar, 1/12 gill. For Indians--a little rice. 

The Indian, it will be observed, would have fared the worst, muchagainst the will of the authorities, for he does not eat beef, much lesshorseflesh. 

We had not, however, to spend the month of March on this scale of diet, for to our great joy, about midday on the 28th, we received thefollowing message from General Buller:--"I beat the enemy thoroughlyyesterday, and my cavalry is now pursuing as fast as bad roads willpermit. I believe the enemy to be in full retreat. " The ration scale wasat once doubled, and that evening Lord Dundonald's cavalry arrived. 

UNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON. 

[Illustration: SKETCH PLAN OF COUNTRY SOUTH & WEST OF LADYSMITH]