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[Illustration: The Colonel at Work.]




  THE SIEGE OF MAFEKING


  BY

  J. ANGUS HAMILTON




  WITH FIFTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS AND TWO PLANS




  METHUEN & CO.
  36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
  LONDON
  1900




PREFATORY NOTE


I have to acknowledge gratefully permission to publish in this book
certain articles contributed before and during the siege of Mafeking
to _The Times_ and _Black and White_. To the editor of the latter
paper I am indebted also for leave to reproduce photographs taken by
myself and published, from time to time, in that journal.

I would acknowledge, too, in anticipation, any kindly toleration my
readers may extend to me for the many shortcomings, of which I am
dismally conscious, arising from the hasty preparation of this volume.
When I explain that between the date of my return to England and this
date--when I start for China--barely a fortnight has elapsed, I shall
make good, perhaps, some small claim upon the indulgence of the
critics and the public.

                                                    J. A. H.
  _July 21, 1900_




CONTENTS


  CHAPTER                                               Page

        I.  AT SEA                                         1

       II.  A GLANCE AHEAD                                11

      III.  ON THE ORANGE FREE STATE BORDER               22

       IV.  BRICKS OF STRAW                               34

        V.  DIAMONDS AND WHITE FEATHERS                   41

       VI.  TWO DAYS BEFORE WAR                           49

      VII.  THE SKIRMISH AT FIVE MILE BANK                57

     VIII.  THE FIRST DAY OF BOMBARDMENT                  67

       IX.  THE ADVENT OF "BIG BEN"                       78

        X.  A MIDNIGHT SORTIE                             88

       XI.  CANNON KOPJE                                  97

      XII.  A RECONNAISSANCE                             108

     XIII.  THE TOWN GUARD                               120

      XIV.  WASTED ENERGIES                              130

       XV.  SHELLS AND SLAUGHTER                         140

      XVI.  A SOFT-WATER BATH                            147

     XVII.  THE ECONOMY OF THE SITUATION                 152

    XVIII.  A VISIT TO THE HOSPITAL                      158

      XIX.  A LITTLE GUN PRACTICE                        165

       XX.  THE ATTACK UPON GAME TREE                    175

      XXI.  THE ADVENT OF THE NEW YEAR                   188

     XXII.  NATIVE LIFE                                  196

    XXIII.  BOMBAST AND BOMB-PROOFS                      202

     XXIV.  SOME SNIPING AND AN EXECUTION                212

      XXV.  LIFE IN THE BRICKFIELDS                      220

     XXVI.  FROM BAD TO WORSE                            225

    XXVII.  THE FIRST ATTACK UPON THE BRICKFIELDS        232

   XXVIII.  THE SECOND ATTACK UPON THE BRICKFIELDS       240

     XXIX.  THE NATIVE QUESTION                          247

      XXX.  POLITICAL ECONOMY                            253

     XXXI.  "A HISTORY OF THE BARALONGS"                 261

    XXXII.  'TIS WEARY WAITING                           271

   XXXIII.  TWO HUNDRED DAYS OF SIEGE                    278

    XXXIV.  THE EPICUREAN'S DELIGHT                      283

     XXXV.  THE LAST FIGHT                               290

    XXXVI.  RELIEVED AT LAST                             311

   XXXVII.  THE END                                      319




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS AND PLANS


                                                        Page

  THE COLONEL AT WORK.                         _Frontispiece_

  MAJOR LORD EDWARD CECIL, C.S.O.                         45

  OUTPOSTS AND ENTRENCHMENTS, SOUTHERN FRONT.             55

  HEADQUARTERS                                            68

  CANNON KOPJE                                            98

  MAJOR GODLEY ON THE LOOK-OUT                           112

  EFFECTS OF SHELL FIRE. I. BEFORE                       144

  EFFECTS OF SHELL FIRE. II. AFTER                       146

  BOERS INSPECTING BRITISH KILLED                        184

  THE COLONEL ON THE LOOK-OUT                            192

  WAR CORRESPONDENTS AND THEIR BOMB-PROOF SHELTERS       212

  PLAN OF THE BRICKFIELDS                                222

  CAPE BOYS HURLING STONES AT THE BOERS                  224

  KILLING HORSES FOR THE GARRISON                        292

  THE BRITISH SOUTH AFRICAN POLICE FORT                  298

  "MAFEKING," THE AUTHOR'S DOG                           324

  PLAN OF MAFEKING                                       338




CHAPTER I

AT SEA


                                   R.M.S. _DUNVEGAN CASTLE_,
                                     _September 16th, 1899_.

A breeze was freshening, tufting the heaving billows with white crests
and driving showers of spray and clots of foam upon the decks of the
_Dunvegan_. Passengers stood in strained attitudes about the ship,
fidgeting with the desire to be ill and the wish to appear
comfortable--even dignified. In the end, however, circumstances were
too strong for the passengers, transforming them, from a state of calm
despair, into a condition of sickness and temporary dejection. Every
one was perturbed, and those delicate attentions which the sea-sick
demand were being offered by a much-worried deck steward. Here and
there groups of more hardy voyagers were spending their feeble wit in
unseasonable jokes; here and there bedraggled people, wet with spray
and racked by the anguish of an aching void, were clutching at the
possibility of gaining the privacy of their cabins before their
feelings quite overpowered them. In this mad rush, not unlike the
scramble of a shuttlecock to escape the buffetings of the battledore,
I also joined, fetching my berth with much unfortunate sensation.
Alas! I am a wretched sailor, and travelling far and near these many
years, crossing strange seas to distant lands at oft-recurring
periods, has not even tutored me to stand the stress of the ocean
wave. I cannot endure the sea.

The _Dunvegan Castle_ was steaming to the Cape, carrying the mails,
together with a number of tedious and most tiresome people, whose
hours aboard were passed in periods of distracting energy--in deck
quoits, in impossible cricket matches, in angry squabbles upon the
value of the monies which, day by day, were collected by the crafty
from the foolish and pooled in prizes upon the daily run of the
steamer. It was said that these were pleasant gambles, but the
Gentiles paid and the Hebrews, returning to their diamonds, their
stocks and shares, scooped the stakes. It is a way that the people of
Israel and Threadneedle Street have made peculiarly their own; and,
indeed, the multitude and variety of Jews upon this evil-smelling
steamer suggested that she might have held within her walls the
nucleus of an over-sea Israelitish colony, such another as the
Rothschilds founded.

Time was idle, dreary, and so empty! There was nothing to do, since
nothing could be done. The monotony was appalling, and if this were
the condition in the saloon, how distressful must have been the lot of
the third class, who constituted in themselves, as good a class of
people as that contained in the saloon. Surely in these days of
systematic philanthropy something more might be done to brighten the
lot and welfare of third-class passengers. Is it, for example, quite
impossible to supply them with that not uninteresting development of
the musical-box--the megaphone? Of course it should be quite
possible; but antiquated, even antediluvian, in its arrangements, the
Castle Company cannot initiate anything which has not yet been adopted
by the other lines of ocean shipping. And yet I have been told by
numerous merchant captains that it is the steerage which provides the
profits, making lucrative the business of carrying cargoes of goods
and human freight from our shores to more distant lands. But that also
is the way of the world; yet when a rude prosperity enables the
emigrant Jew and Gentile to throng the saloons, making them altogether
impossible for the gentler classes, we shall find the economy of the
third class appealing to an ever-increasing and ever-superior body of
people until these "superior" people will not endure the dirt,
unwholesome surroundings, and fetid atmosphere of the steerage
accommodation of ocean-going steamers, but will cry to Heaven upon the
niggard's policy which controls the vessels.

As the days wore away, and Madeira came and went, even the flying
fishes ceased to attract, and the noises of the ship grew more
distant, the people less obtrusive. Moreover, I became at rest within
myself, and the gaping, aching void which has filled my vitals these
many days, became assuaged. It was then we began to inspect the
passengers; to consider almost kindly the African Jew millionaire who
ate peas with his fingers and mixed honey with his salad, thought not
disdainfully of the poor lady his wife, who, suffering the tortures of
the damned when at sea, shone at each meal valiantly and heroically
until the menu was pierced by her in its entirety, and she made still
further happy by the administration of an original preventative
against _mal de mer_ of sweet wine biscuits bathed in plentiful and
sticky treacle. It was her way of pouring oil on troubled waters. Oh,
those were dreadful people, never ill, always eating, ever complaining
of a curious dizziness which, nevertheless, occasioned them no loss of
appetite. Surely they, of all others, were indeed of the specially
select! Then there was Mr. Clarke, a friend of the two Presidents,
who, undaunted by the most violent motions of the steamer, kept to the
deck in a constant promenade, discoursing amicably the while, and
punctuating his utterances, of a somewhat patriarchal order, with
brief pauses, in which he stroked, with much dignity, a long white
beard. He was a dear old man, and, unlike other Boers, he did not
quote from the Scriptures, a concession which, to be properly
appreciated, demands the lassitude and extreme prostration of violent
nausea. There is something inordinately irritating about the man who
proposes to soothe the irruptions attendant upon sea voyages by the
assurance that such discomfiture is to be endured, since in Chapter
i., verse 1, of a pious writer, the Lord hath there written that the
ungodly shall be everlastingly punished. Personally I objected only to
the form of punishment.

The friend of the President, a fine specimen of sturdy masculinity,
touching eighty-two years of age, was quite the most impressive figure
aboard this particular Castle packet. He had been a sojourner in the
Orange Free State for forty years, coming to it from Australia shortly
after the riots at Ballarat goldfields. The old fellow had fought
against the Boers, championed their arms against the Basutos, raided
the blacks in Queensland, and tumbled through a variety of enterprises
ranging from mining in Australia to successful sheep farming near the
Fickersburg. I liked him, taking an intense anxiety in his future
movements, and wondering whether this fine old specimen of life would
also become our enemy. Who could tell! So much depended upon the
situation, so much upon the action of the President and the will of
Providence. He stood, as he himself was apt to remark, upon the border
of the next world--looking back upon a span of four score years,
possessing a knowledge of the affairs of these African Republics which
had obtained for him the friendship of President Steyn and President
Kruger; indeed, they had been comrades-in-arms, Oom Paul and himself,
while he had seen Steyn spring into manhood from a stripling, and when
his thoughts dwelt upon those days the voice of the old man became
flooded with emotion. These tears of memory were a sidelight to his
real character, and I was convinced that if he shouldered arms at all
these earlier friendships were held by such ties as were too sacred to
be violated. In his heart he hated fighting, yearning merely for the
attentions of his children, the cool delights of his mountain home. In
his domestic environment he was a happy man, since prosperity had
brought him certain cares of office, much as the dignity of his age
had brought him the respect of his fellow-burghers. And yet he figured
as an illustration of countless hundreds, each one of whom was in
close relationship with the crisis in the politics of the country.

Morning, noon and night he strolled, the one figure of interest in
the ill-assorted company of passengers which the good ship--to my
nostrils an evil-smelling tub--was carrying to the Cape. There were
few others of importance upon this journey. There was a colonel of
the Royal Engineers, who had a snug billet in the War Office, and
who was leaving Pall Mall to inspect the barracks at Cape Town, St.
Helena, Ascension, and all those other places to which certain
preposterous War Office officials devoted that attention which
should so much more properly have been paid to the defenceless
condition of the frontiers in South Africa. But then, after all,
what is the destiny of the War Office unless to meddle and make
muddle? If Colonel Watson might be said to have represented the
Imperial Government among the passengers, Mynheer Van der Merure,
Commissioner of Mines in Johannesburg, might be considered as
representing the Pretorian Government. It seemed to me that these
two worthies were quite harmless, representing, each in his own way,
the acme of good nature, the gallant--all colonels imagine that they
be gallant--colonel by reason of his advanced age; the worthy--all
commissioners imagine that they be worthy--commissioner because he
lived off the spoil of the mines. But even the spectacle of these
three--the grand old man, the War Office _attache_, the wealthy
Randsman--did not suffice to break the hideous monotony of a most
depressing voyage.

With the peace of nature enveloping us in a feeling of security, it
was difficult to realise that each day we drew a little nearer to a
possible seat of war. There was much rumour aboard; the stewards
hinted that the hold was filled with a cargo of munitions of war. The
captain flatly denied it, even the War Office pensioner thought it
improbable. "You must understand, sir," said he one morning, across the
breakfast table, "that it is contrary to the custom of her Majesty's
Government, and, if I may say so, sir, especially contrary to the
custom of her Majesty's War Office, to squander the finances of our
great Empire upon unnecessary munitions of war because the _Times_ and
other papers choose to send half a dozen irresponsible individuals to
South Africa. Now, sir--pooh!" When Colonel Watson broke out like this
the friend of the President would intervene, suggesting in his kindly,
paternal fashion that "the War Office--given half a dozen colonels,
gallant or otherwise--might well afford to follow the lead of the
_Times_ newspaper." "It has been my experience," the Colonel
retaliated on one occasion, "that when people begin to interfere they
cease to understand." It was always quite delightful to watch these
two cross swords; the elder invariably took refuge in his age when the
sallies of the War Office could not be directly countered.
"Experience! You are only old enough to be my son." The Colonel
spluttered--colonels do. By these means the elder man usually carried
off the honours, replying, as it were, by a flank movement to the
frontal attack of his superior adversary.

The farmer from the Orange Free State talked much to me, giving me,
towards the end of the voyage, an invitation to his home. It was a
visit in which I should have found much pleasure, since the splendour
of his years, his gentleness and nobility of character were
attractive. It seemed to me that among all sorts and conditions of men
this one was indeed, a man, and I do most sincerely hope that the end
of the war may find him still living and enjoying his farm in his
usual prosperity. He was so set against the war, and dreaded the
consequences of hostile invasion into the Orange Free State, insomuch
that he realised, if some immunity were not guaranteed, the ruin and
desolation which would spread over the land. In August as we left
England there was nothing known about the future action of the Orange
Free State. The question was one of debate, altogether confused,
almost intangible, and this man, knowing Steyn as he knew Kruger, was
convinced that the Orange Free State would alienate itself from the
Transvaal difficulty. But who can tell? We look to the sea for our
answer, and it throws back to us only the echoes of the sighing waves,
the pulsing throbs of the screws pounding the green masses of water in
an effort to reach the Cape. Nevertheless, I am inclined to believe
that there will be war. I hope that there may be, since it is to be my
field of labour.

The journey nears its end, and the weather breaks, for a few hours
into grey cold; while the sea, where it laps the bay at Cape Town,
darkening into thin ridges of foam, tumbling and tossing amid the
eddies of the bleak water, looks menacing. A fog lies off the land,
dense and weighty, impeding the navigation and impressing no little
conception of the perils of the deep upon the minds of timorous
passengers, and folding the surface of the ocean in its expanse. The
weather threatens to be wild. All day the sea fog broke and mingled,
merging, as the day wore on, into one conglomerate mass of cloud,
impenetrable to the mariner and screening the signs of the sea from
those who were upon land. Here and there, low down upon the horizon,
the storm fiend from the shore had broken into the garland of mist
which hung so drearily upon sea as upon moor, detaching parcels of
cloud from the main and toying with them with the coy and heartless
grace of Zephyr! But as yet the wind only came in minor lapses, and
was followed by intervals in which there was no movement in the fog.
From the waste of sea came a ceaseless, muffled roar which seemed
loudest and most full of mystery when carried upon the wings of the
wind. Then these echoes of mighty waters, tumbling upon the rocks off
the land, seemed ominous and charged with deadly peril, and, as the
fog belts lifted or dispersed before the gusts of the wind, the sea
would look as though swept with growing anger, heaving in tremulous
passion, until the great reach of quivering waves was flecked with
white. Closer and closer lapped the tiny waves, until, under the
pressure of the freshening wind they mingled their crests, rising and
falling in foam-capped billows of growing volume and increasing
majesty. Thus developed the storm; the wind beating on the face of the
waters and breaking against the clouds until rain fell, in the end
assuaging, by its raging downpour, the tempest of the ocean. Down came
the storm in one panting burst of tempestuous deluge. The heaving
waves threw sheets of foam from their rain-pierced summits, and the
wind whistled and screamed as it swept through the rigging. Flashes of
lightning and thunder claps parried one another in quick succession.
The rain fell in torrents, the decks, shining in the lightning
flashes, roared with rushing water. So that night we rode at anchor,
rocking idly at our cables within the shadow of the mountain, and upon
the morrow, beneath the light of coming dawn, we drew nearer through
the cool greyness of the bounding ocean. At first the figures, the
walls of the fort, the cranes, the shipping, and the scarred and
crinkled facing of the mountain were silhouetted in black against the
grey of early morning, but as the day broke more firmly across its
<DW72>s, the finer and more subtle light gave to everything its actual
proportion. All kept growing clearer and yet clearer, and more and
more thoroughly outlined, until the sun, shooting over the horizon,
bestowed upon the coming day its first wink of glory.

And so we landed, passing from a sluggish state of peace into a world
where everything was lighted with martial glamour.




CHAPTER II

A GLANCE AHEAD


                          CAPE TOWN, _September 20th, 1899_.

To be in Cape Town in September would seem to be visiting the capital
of Cape Colony in its least enjoyable month; since, more especially
than at any other time in the year, the place be thronged with
bustling people, who plough their way through streets which, by the
stress of recent bad weather, are choked with mud and broken by pools
of slush and rain-scourings. The rain is falling with a determination
and force of penetration which soaks the pedestrian in a few minutes
and makes life altogether miserable. Moreover, there are signs of
further foul weather. There is a white mist upon the mountain and a
sea fog enshrouds the shipping in the harbour: everywhere it is cold,
colourless and damp. Everywhere the people are depressed. It is as
though the wet has drenched the population of the town to the bone and
drowned their spirits in the cheerless prospect which the rainy
season in Cape Town provides. If the sun were to shine the aspect
might be brighter, a little warmth might be infused in the character
and disposition of the constantly shifting streams of mud-splashed,
bedraggled pedestrians who, despite the rain and mud and an air of
general despondency, impart some little animation to the dirty
thoroughfares.

Other than this air of depression there is but little external
evidence of the momentous crisis which impends. It may be that the
Cape Town colonist has forgotten the responsibilities of his colony in
the cares of his own office, and is become that mechanical development
of commerce, a money-making man. Who can tell? Is it even fair to
hazard an estimation of the man in his present environment? But it
would assuredly seem that the troubles of the Government, the menace
which is imposed upon the colony by the Bond Ministry, do not touch
him, do not even stir his loyalty to the ebullition of a little
doubtful enthusiasm. Just now, although there may be war upon his
borders, although the spirit of disturbed patriotism be in the air,
and although his neighbours may be thinking of joining some one of the
Irregular Corps who are advertising for recruits, the ordinary
inhabitant of Cape Town is unmoved. He is too lethargic, or is it that
his loyalty is not of that degree which regards with concern the
arming of the border republics, the near outbreak of bloody war? It
would seem that each, after his own caste, be happy if he be left
alone; the money grubber to gain more shekels, the idler and the
casual to bore each other with their stupendous, even studied
indifference to the propinquity of the latest national crisis. Within
a few days, it may even be within a few hours, our questions with the
Pretorian Government will have reached their final adjustment or their
perpetual confusion, and it may be that we shall be at war. It may be
also, although it be difficult to believe, that a peaceful solution
will be derived. At this moment the services of such pacific measures
as can be adopted should be utilised, since if war should come within
a brief measure the position of the people of this country will indeed
be grave--the utter absence of adequate defensive measures, the entire
lack of efficient military preparations being factors which are
calculated to incite to rebellion those who incline to the Dutch
cause, and indeed, most positively, their name is Legion. There is, I
think, the essence of revolt beneath this heavy and depressed
condition of the people: it were not possible otherwise, to exist
within such intimate proximity to a state of war and be unmoved; it is
not possible either to find other explanation. It may be that in their
hearts, as in their heads, they are weighing the consequences of
revolt, succouring one another in their distress of mind and body with
seditious sympathies, maintaining a spirit of antagonism to the
Imperial fusion under pretence of the mere expression of a lip
loyalty. And in their immediate prospect there is everything which may
be calculated to disturb their equanimity, and to force upon them the
consciousness of their impotency. It is perhaps this knowledge of
their actual weakness which subdues them since they cannot afford to
openly avow feelings which are inimical to us and which would betoken
their own hostility. Nevertheless, Great Britain can do nothing which
could encourage these people in their loyalty; nor can they
themselves, in reality, assist to remove their unfortunate
predicament, since they must needs sacrifice their possessions to
substantiate their views, and to do this implies complete
disintegration of their fortunes. This they will not do; since they
cannot suffer it. They will remain discontented partisans, however;
slaves of commerce, restrained by the possibilities of further
aggrandisement from declaring their mutual connection, and manacled by
the bonds of free trade and crooked dealings. They will be neutral, as
indeed the greater proportion of the inhabitants of the towns along
the coast and within the littoral zone will be, since with every
feeling of unctuous rectitude in relation to the values of their
trade, they will leave to the provincial areas, which lie between the
borders of the Orange Free State and the metropolitan circuits, the
onus of the situation, the work of supplying active and more potential
supporters of the Republican arms.

This is the middle of September, and I am assured that the crisis
should not be expected before the middle of October, inclining to the
first two weeks of the coming month. If this be possible, and the
information is difficult to discount, our sin of indifference is the
greater, our apathy the more criminal. Indeed, everywhere there is
nothing doing--God forbid that the steady warlike preparations of the
Transvaal Government should intimidate us, but let us at least be
heedful and not over sleepy. If we can gauge the situation by the
public press of the Empire it is most critical, and the time is rather
overripe in which we also should indulge in a few military exercises.
There is a situation to be faced which will tax all the resources of
the Castle, and strain even the vaunted excellence of the home
administration--that army for which Lord Wolseley has claimed such
splendid mobilisation, such insensate volition. If these fifty
thousand men were here now the turns of the political wheel would not
be regarded with such intense apprehension, while in their absence
there lies perhaps the answer to the rain-drenched dulness of the
population. The land is naked; from Basutoland to Buluwayo and back to
Beira, mile upon mile of smiling frontier rests without protection of
any sort. We are inviting invasion, and it is impossible that such a
movement will not be attempted. To invade our territory--it will sound
so well round the camp fires of the Boer laagers--a mere scamper
across the frontier, a pell-mell, hell-for-leather retreat to their
own lines, and the manoeuvres would be executed felicitously and with
every sign of success. But such a contingency is submerged under an
accumulation of theories and official explanations each of which deny
the possibility of the Boer taking upon himself the responsibility of
rushing the situation. Moreover, it does not seem that the Boers
require much instigation to attempt such an act. We have laid open our
borders to such an enterprise, even taking the trouble to leave
unguarded many towns whose adjacency to the border is singularly
perilous. In many cases a Boer force need only make a short march to
arrive in the very heart of some one of these border towns, when,
should they appear, the turn of affairs could be said to be complex;
and some emotions might be felt by those worthy and effete military
noodles who so persistently shout down the "pessimists" who, knowing
the country, the ambition and resourcefulness of the Boers, persist in
declaiming upon the hideous neglect which characterises our frontier
defences, and strenuously assert the probability of Boer invasion into
those districts which superimpose themselves upon the borders of the
Transvaal and Orange Free State Republics, and which, possessing
values of their own, can be held as hostages against the slings and
arrows of an outrageous fortune elsewhere.

It is the duty of the Crown at the present juncture to bear this
contingency in mind, to confront it with the determined resolution to
repair the negligence of the past at once and at all costs, and to
allow neither the opinion of the Bond Ministry, nor the ignorance of
the existing military advisers to the Governor, to persuade the
Executive from adopting the only course which remains to us, which is
to push men and materials of war to the border with the least possible
delay. If we do not take these steps now it will be too late in a
little time, and the course of the war must necessarily be the more
protracted. There are many who would have us delay lest our premature
acts should expedite the despatch of the ultimatum, and we should lose
the opportunity, which the next few days will give to us, of receiving
delivery of the troops who are already upon the water. But the
presence of these men means little and forebodes, in reality, a slight
accentuation of the gravity of the actual situation. It is with the
forces that we can control at this moment that we must count, and it
is with them that we must deal. It does not suffice to have
parade-ground drills in Cape Town as a preliminary flourish; we should
at least show ourselves as ready as the Boers be willing. This of
course we cannot do, since, with a handful of exceptions, we have not
a modern piece of artillery in the country. Moreover we do not quite
know what armaments the Transvaal Government possess; it is with a
pretty display of pretence that we conceal the nakedness of our
borders and bolster up the situation. There is Kimberley,
Ramathlabama, and Buluwayo--what _is_ to happen upon the western
frontier?--and although it be doubtful if the Boers would pierce the
Rhodesian border and seize Buluwayo, it is not too much to expect that
if they should inaugurate any movement into the Colony from the Orange
Free State, even if their activity only should assume the shape of a
demonstration against Kimberley, that this southern advance would
receive sympathetic co-operation from a parallel movement in a
northerly direction by which they might temporarily secure possession
of our line of communication and menace Buluwayo by encroaching upon
Rhodesia.

Then there is the position of Natal, which must be more or less
hampered by the war in the Transvaal if it does not become actually
and potentially concerned. That Natal will play an important _role_ is
elaborately evident from the Boer patrols who, even now, are reported
to be in possession of all strategical points in the mountains, and
who are also said to be busily engaged in fortifying the rocky
fastnesses of the Drakensburg Mountains, and to dominate Laing's Nek
tunnel as well as the line of railway which curvets through the chain,
by having emplaced some heavy ordnance upon prominent and immediate
commanding <DW72>s. It would seem as though Natal may play a part, so
distinctive and so vitally important in its own history as a colonial
dependency, that the prospect of the war there may become a campaign
in itself, and one which will be almost detached and isolated from the
movements in the Orange Free State and Transvaal, where I have reason
to believe there is some intention of formulating, what may be
regarded as a dual campaign, which will avoid all invasion of the
Transvaal territory until the Orange Free State has been completely
pacified and the lines of communication effectively and securely held.
In support of this scheme it is generally conceded that it will be
impossible to carry war into the Transvaal until every provision has
been made against the risk of local rising in the areas of the Orange
Free State, and thus endangering our lines of communication, as well
as our flanks.

These, then, are the signs of the day, and in such signs do we read
something of the terrible struggle upon which we are so soon to be
engaged, and in appreciation of which, local opinion is in such marked
contrast--I almost wrote conflict--with the opinion and views of the
special service officers from India and England. To whom, then,
belongs the honours of accurate estimation; to the man from home as it
were, or to the man who has passed his life in South Africa and
understands the Dutchman as the mere military interloper can never
hope to understand him? There is, I think, no doubt as to what point
of view be erroneous, and it is because we so persistently ignore the
worth and reliability of the men who are upon the spot, that we shall
have the falsity of our intelligence some day brought home to us by
the tidings of a terrible disaster. South Africa is already the grave
of too many fine reputations; but let us, at least, hope that we shall
not add to the disgrace of the private individual any loss of national
prestige. The wind soughs ominously just now, however, while there is
a note in it which I do not like, and which I cannot understand. At
the Castle they talk airily of being home by Christmas! If they be
sailing within twelve months they will be lucky, and at Government
House Sir Alfred Milner is beset with the difficulties of his very
onerous position. For the moment he takes--I am glad to be able to say
it, since I would have him upon the side of sound common sense--a
somewhat depressed view of the general outlook. Kimberley and
Ramathlabama were his especial concerns when I called there to-day,
insomuch that they extend an especial invitation to the mobility of a
Boer commando, while it is quite beyond his powers to save them from
their fate. It seemed to me that he despairs of these towns in
particular, but I will withhold his remarks upon them until I myself
have been there. Yet it may be taken as granted that, should Sir
Alfred Milner be concerned for their immediate and eventual safety,
the gravity of their situation is extreme, pointing even to the
closeness of the danger which would arise from a Boer invasion into
those areas.

But in this hurried letter I am dealing with the colony, and
singularly enough we have to consider how our colonists will behave,
what may be their attitude, and how near are we to rebellion? It is of
course an all-important question, and one which, in relation to a
British colony, is untoward. If I were asked to localise the possible
area of revolt I should decline, since the question be so serious and
infringes so much upon the life and existence--the central forces--of
the colony that it would be difficult, definitely and evenly, to
demarcate any zone of loyalty, as opposed to any area of disaffection,
without unduly trespassing upon the sentiments of less favoured
districts. But I do think that the possibilities of this question are
enormous, emanating as it does from the life teachings and doctrines
of the people of the country, and however much we try to draw a line
between what constitutes due loyalty and what infringes the spirit as
well as the letter of the individual's allegiance, we must
unconsciously perpetrate much injustice either upon the one or upon
the other side of the question, which, owing to the dualistic
temperament and inclinations of no small majority of the people, it is
impossible to avoid, and which will have to be endured by individuals,
loyal or disloyal, as their penalty. The spirit of the Dutch pioneers
still impregnates much of Cape Colony; its presence south of the
Orange Free State and in the actual territory of the colony receiving
direct support and sympathy by the increasing numbers of the Dutch
population in these African Republics; an increase which, being
unrestricted in its development, has spread far and wide until it has
created a partial exodus from the recognised centres of Dutch
influence and Dutch population into those areas from which the traces
of the earliest Dutch occupation were rapidly vanishing--if they have
not altogether disappeared--and which has been the medium of
resuscitating a feeling of sympathy and clanship which, augmented by
still closer ties of commerce, has promoted the functions of matrimony
and friendship and gradually released a current of feeling throughout
the district which was avowedly Dutch, and, equally avowedly, in
silent and semi-subdued opposition to the instincts and ideals of the
Anglo-Saxon colonist. And it is against the rapid spread of this
feeling which we have to contend, much as we must guard against the
conversion of these prejudices into tacit support and effective
co-operation with the armed burghers of the sister Republics should
their arms secure any initial successes. With this danger in our
midst, in itself an almost insurmountable obstacle, no precaution
which could render the safety of these districts the less precarious
should be omitted; and to effect this--and it is quite essential to
our temporal salvation--men and materials of war should be in
readiness to forestall, or, at least, to circumvent, the consummation
of the Boer operations. If we can accomplish even so little, it maybe
possible to prevent the no small proportion of the colonists
discharging their obligations to the Crown by combining with the Boer
forces. To this end our efforts will have to be seriously directed,
and the sooner this simple fact is realised by the authorities in
South Africa as in London, the more convincing will the scope and
measures of our policy become. At present it is chimerical, and we
hesitate.




CHAPTER III

ON THE ORANGE FREE STATE BORDER


                                           THE CAMP, DE AAR,
                                     _September 23rd, 1899_.

Africa was streaming past the dusty windows of the railway carriage,
presenting an endless spectacle of flat, depressed-looking country,
with here and there a hut, here and there a native. I am in the
earliest stages of a journey which should lead to Ramathlabama, and
the command of Colonel Baden-Powell. Slowly and with much effort the
train drags itself along; the road is steep, the carriages hot and
uncomfortable, and there is nothing to attract attention, nothing to
fill the emptiness of the mind. I slept at intervals, to awaken at
some roadside station where fussy people were struggling to eat too
much in too short a space of time. There, for a moment, was the
scamper of bustling, hurrying passengers, who pushed and menaced one
another in a thirsty rush to the refreshment room; with a cloud of
officers, orderlies, and troopers I stood apart, listless, bored, and
travel-stained, feebly interested, more feebly talking in disconnected
phrases, until, with shrill blasts of his whistle, the guard signalled
the departure of the train. Then off again, the jerking, swaying
flight of eighteen miles an hour--the rumbling monotony of express
speed which was conducive to drowsiness and nothing more. The
landscape faded in the distance, a raucous voice sang of 'Ome, while,
in a monotonous buzz of nothingness, I slept again.

The train was slowly thrusting itself forward as, with much panting
and purring and some screaming, it cut the borders of the Great Karoo.
Slowly the wheels clenched the metals as the waggons rocked in a
lullaby of motion, and the passengers were fanned with draughts of
scented air. The Great Karoo, lying in the shades of evening,
hearkening to the secret calling of mysterious voices, heeding not the
ravages of time, wearing majestically the massive dignity of its
grandeur, threw back its barriers of resistance to our intrusion and
delighting our senses with ever-changing and oft-recurring glimpses of
its beauty. But the picture faded with the passing of the train, the
golden and crimson delights of the overgrowing flowers gave place to a
soulless expanse destitute of beauty.

I stopped at De Aar, which is the junction where the Orange Free State
and Transvaal lines connect with the Cape Colony system. At De Aar I
was anxious to observe the press of traffic. From Cape Town for
Kimberley, Borderside, Fourteen Streams, and Mafeking, truck loads of
horses and mules, waggon loads of general military stores were passing
northwards to the front. In the interval, there were Imperial troops
and men of the Cape Mounted Police. Indeed, the scene upon the
platform was animated by martial spirit. If the train from the south
was loaded with war material, the trains from the two Republics were
packed with fugitives, among whom were many men who, in the hour of
necessity, will, it is to be hoped, consider flight as the least
satisfactory means of procedure. However, no goods are going through
to the two Republics from Cape Colony, unless Mr. Schreiner has passed
more ammunition over the Cape lines to the Transvaal. But things are
working more satisfactorily down in Cape Town since it became known
that the Cabinet would be discharged by the Governor, unless----and to
a discerning politician of the Bond, whose income depends upon his
salary from the House, a blank conveys many wholesome home truths.

Travelling, even with the variety of emotion which the Karoo excites,
is no great comfort in South Africa. One lives in an atmosphere of
dust and Keating's. If the trains go no faster to Cairo when the rails
be through, than they do to Buluwayo, the steamers will still retain
the monopoly of passenger traffic. It takes a "week of Sundays" to
reach railhead at Buluwayo, but there is some small consideration in
the fact that such a journey has been made. It will become a feature
in our Sabbatarian domesticity some day, and among railway journeys at
the present time it is unique. Where else do express trains arrive
several hours in advance of their scheduled time? Where else do goods
trains arrive several days late? These are but the manifold and
maddening perplexities of railway travelling in Africa. Yet if one
kicks against the uncertainties of the desert service, there is sure
to be an Eliphaz somewhere upon the train, whose philosophy being
greater than his hurry, recognises that the element of expedition,
when his train does arrive, is greater than the prospect of moving at
all where no train comes. Time passes somehow on these journeys, and
the chance prospect of obtaining a good meal, when one is dead certain
to get a bad one, is enlivening. If it were not for such trifles, the
journey would have no interest. To look forward to luncheon and an
afternoon nap, to anticipate dinner and then digest it, makes the day
run with pleasant monotony into the night. And night is worth the
inspection. The beds in the train are comfortable enough, but the
night is vested with misty beauty, and its fascination woos the
traveller from his rest. There is the roar of the engine, the rumble
of the carriages, the buzz of insects, and the faint rustle of the
night wind over the plains. Then, looking into the night, one falls
asleep, tired and stunned by the spectacle of the never-ending desert.
But, in the morning there comes a change. The stretches of the Karoo
are past, and breakfast at De Aar is in sight.

At De Aar--a sea of tents with here and there a man--there begins the
outward and visible signs of preparation against the necessities of
the coming struggle. There are men and arms at De Aar and munitions of
war, comprising the Yorkshire regiment, a wing of the King's Own Light
Infantry under Major Hunt, and a section of the Seventh Field Company
of Engineers under Lieutenant Wilson; but their numbers are
impossible, much as their supplies be limited and seriously
insufficient; and, as a consequence, I must not talk much about the
interior linings of the British camp which has sprung up at De Aar,
and which, within a few days of what must be the turning point of the
present crisis, is so little able to cope with the exigencies of the
situation. It is a protective measure, this little camp at the
junction of the divergence in the railway system of the colony, placed
in its present situation to guarantee the safety of the permanent way,
and to ensure a modicum of safety to the traffic which is crowding
north over the points at the meeting of the rails. It is a gorgeous
piece of impudence; this minute establishment of British soldiers, and
if it be impressed with the might and majesty of our Imperial Empire,
it is also beset with the innumerable difficulties and trials which
attend an isolated State.

We are guarding the lines of communication between De Aar Junction and
Norvals Pont, the bridge across the Orange River which unites the
territory of the Orange Free State with the land of the Colony,
between De Aar and the Camp at Orange River, between De Aar and many
miles to the south in the direction of Cape Town. I believe that the
practical influence of this particular unit extends so far south as
Beaufort West, where the custody and patrol of the line is handed over
to the care of the railway authorities, whose men are detailed to the
all-important duty of guarding the culverts and bridges of the system.
The greatest menace to our weakness in the present situation springs
from the vast lines of communication over which we must watch and
which, although lying well within our own borders, are endangered
through the contributary sympathy of the Dutch who, resident and
settled within our own Colony, and boasting some sort of idle
observance of the obligations entailed upon them by such residence,
have seldom by word, and not at all in spirit, forsworn their entire
and cheerful assistance to the cause of the Transvaal. In any other
campaign these fatigues would be unnecessary, and the services of the
innumerable small detachments delegated to the duty would be released
for more active work, but with this war the safe maintenance of our
lines of communication will become a problem of most vital concern,
and will be necessarily imbued with absorbing interest. Moreover,
whatever the nature of the scheme for efficiently guarding these lines
may be, due attention must be paid and every consideration given to
the superior mobility of the Boer forces to that of our own troops, an
advantage which will increase their facilities and chances of success
should they exert themselves to harass any particular section of our
inordinately long lines of communication.

With the formation of a camp at De Aar, the trend which our campaign
may assume becomes more definite. De Aar is but a little removed from
Norvals Pont, an important bridge into the Orange Free State, which it
is proposed to protect from the immediate base of the troops at De
Aar, or to hold altogether from an ultimate base in the same direction
at Colesberg. I propose to visit there before the next mail departs,
since it be rumoured here that the town of Colesberg has been left
entirely undefended by the military authorities, and that the end of
the bridge, remote from this border and within the limits of the
Orange Free State, is in the hands of an armed patrol from that
Republic. When these things happen, and De Aar becomes the centre of a
big base camp, the position will constitute another link in the chain
of towns which are to be occupied by the Imperial forces along the
western and southern borders of the Orange Free State, and whose
occupation, should the troops arrive in time thus to execute the
initiative, indicates our probable line of advance to be from a
number of points, so that General Joubert will be unable to
concentrate his troops before any one force. Upon our side, also,
those frontier detachments that may be in occupation of the towns,
will harass Transvaal and Free State borderside, suppress any rising
within our own border areas, and be entirely subsidiary to the main
columns, which will be simultaneously thrown forward from these three
or four special points on the same extreme line of progression.

Moreover, this plan of operations accentuates the detached and
especial character of the Natal Field Force, restraining them to
service in that colony, and restricting their activities to that
sphere. These troops will occupy Laing's Nek, the ten thousand men
already assembled in that Colony being reinforced before hostilities
are declared, until the Field Service footing of the Natal Field Force
will equal that of an army corps. The critical points in the present
situation are the western and eastern borders of the Transvaal, where
the young bloods from the backwoods are mostly gathered, and in their
present state eminently calculated to force the hand of Oom Paul into
an impromptu declaration of belligerency. The movements of the Natal
forces will be confined for the moment to holding Laing's Nek,
maintaining communication with the permanent base at Ladysmith and
Pietermaritzburg, and in occupying Dundee, Colenso, and all such towns
as fall within the limits of its exterior lines.

From De Aar a division will support the left flank of the advance of
the First Army Corps, divided, for purposes of more speedy
concentration upon its ultimate base, into two divisions, which will
reunite at Burghersdorp, _via_ the railways, to Middelburg and
Stormberg Junction from their immediate bases of disembarkation at
Port Elizabeth and East London. The total force will then advance in
exterior lines upon the Orange Free State, maintaining the railway
system upon their individual western flanks, so far as possible, as
their individual lines of communication.

While the Second Army Corps supports the situation in Natal, it is
hoped that our forces in the Orange Free State border will either
crush or drive the Boers back upon their ulterior lines towards
Bloemfontein, which, with the assistance of the De Aar flanking column
traversing the watershed of the Modder River in the direction of
Kimberley, and in possible co-operation with a force from that base,
they should be in a position to occupy. The capital will be held by
the De Aar and Kimberley divisions, upon whom will then fall the work
of protecting the lines of communication of the Southern Army Corps as
it advances.

After supporting De Aar, Kimberley, and the lines of communication
with defensive units, and maintaining a western column by employing
the service of the Mafeking force, the First Army Corps will begin the
move upon Pretoria, in collaboration with the Second (Natal) Army
Corps, the former once again advancing in twin columns from a mutual
base. The western border will probably be held from Kimberley to Fort
Tuli by the forces composing the western column, while a flying column
is to be in readiness lest a wider area be given to the theatre of
war, and it become necessary to cross the Limpopo River. It would
appear, too, that there is also some possibility of a column moving
from Delagoa Bay. By this advance Pretoria becomes the objective of
the campaign after the occupation of the Orange Free State, but this
depends to a great extent upon the policy pursued by General Joubert
and the nature of the Natal operations. If the Boers give way and,
acting upon interior lines, fall back upon Pretoria, as General
Jackson fell back upon Richmond in 1864-1865, the Transvaal capital
will at once become the objective of the British forces advancing upon
exterior lines, the object of the campaign, once the Transvaal has
been invaded, being to force a battle upon the combined forces of the
Boers or to beset Pretoria. It will thus be seen that the theory of
the British advance favours the concentration of troops upon the
Transvaal and Orange Free State frontiers so that the Boer forces may
be dislocated, retaining the railways and their lines of communication
and, leaving the actual protection and pacification of the frontier to
the local mounted police and to the special service corps assisted by
a few detachments of Imperial troops, while no progressive movement
will be made from any one point until the exterior line, upon which
the entire advance will be conducted, has been thoroughly established.
For the nonce extraordinary precautions are being taken to conceal the
movements of troops, and I have withheld from publication at this
moment much which could be given in support of the lines by which I
have suggested our advance will be governed. This plan of campaign
reads very prettily, but it seems to me, that we are making no
allowances for possible disasters, for possible defeats, for
unavoidable delays, which, should they occur, will hamper the mobility
of our advance and restrict the celerity of our movements to a great
and most serious extent. Despite the fact that the massing of troops
at the selected points between De Aar and Mafeking, between Cape Town,
Port Elizabeth, East London, and the ultimate and interested bases
will proceed almost immediately, the successful evolution of our
plans, the wisdom or foolishness of which are so soon to be put to the
test, demands much greater forces than are calculated to be available
during the next few weeks. At present, and until the latter days of
October, the combined strengths of the Regular and Irregular forces in
South Africa will not equal twenty thousand men, and yet we are
dabbling with and making preparations against a plan of campaign which
requisitions two Army Corps at least, and will probably require the
services of not less than one hundred thousand men. I dread to think
of what may happen if war should come within a few days, but we can do
nothing but face what is a most intolerable position, and one which
most easily might have been avoided. The outlook in the absence of
efficient men and stores is indeed disheartening.

Since I arrived upon the Orange Free State border I have omitted no
opportunity to discuss with the Boers the question of the war. A
friendly Boer, hailing from Utrecht, suggested the probable direction
which the Boer plans, so far as they concerned Natal, might assume,
and while they appear to be feasible, they reveal how curiously
predominant among them is the idea that their arms will again defeat
the British troops. The Transvaal Boers from Vryheid and Utrecht
propose to attempt raids upon Natal and Zululand as the preliminaries
to a rush upon Maritzburg and the southern district of Natal, by
Weenen and Umvoti; Orange Free State Boers from the border areas will
harass our soldiers as they move towards Laing's Nek, and, thus
drawing the attention of the British troops, the road will be clear
for those marching south on their attack upon the capital of Natal.
All approaches to Laing's Nek upon the Dutch side of the border,
already alien, have been fortified, fourteen guns being actually in
position at the more important points. The British troops soon after
leaving Ladysmith will have the Transvaal Boers on one side, the Free
State Boers upon the other, and long before the Imperial troops can
occupy the extreme border a commando of Boers from Wakkerstroom will
have concentrated upon it. In the opinion of the Boers the effective
occupation of Laing's Nek by either force will decide the war. The
Boers all seem convinced that they can sweep the British forces from
South Africa. The procedure of a campaign which finds much favour in
their eyes includes the rising of the Swazis, the Zulus and the
Basutos, who will be permitted to devastate Natal and as much of the
south as they can penetrate, and whom they claim will be easily
stirred against the Rooineks. The Boers will then feint with a small
force upon the centre of our military occupation, while their entire
army marches down upon Port Elizabeth, East London, or Cape Town, or
proceeds by railway if they can secure the lines. They will hold open
no lines of communication, because by that time Imperial arms will
have been defeated, and it will only remain for President Kruger to
dictate peace from Cape Town.

This is actually the opinion of a Boer who administers for the
Transvaal Government an important district, and who is under orders to
proceed to the Natal border without loss of time. Surely he must be
consumed with delusion and impotent fanaticism; nevertheless, educated
Boers from the border side and living in the Cape Colony, who have
come to the camp to invite the officers to a cricket match or some
buck shooting, have all expressed this view. At present I have not
met the Boer who can conceive the defeat of his own countrymen, while
both Imperial and Republican Governments count upon the assistance of
the natives. Upon the other hand, however, I am informed that there
are many Boers who do not wish to fight, since they recognise the
futility of any effort which they can direct against British troops;
but, at the same time, should they be called out upon commando, there
is no fear of their declining to obey, while, so far as my inquiries
go, they have failed to elicit anything which would show the Boers to
be moved by any view so eminently sound as this would be.




CHAPTER IV

BRICKS OF STRAW


                                     THE CAMP, ORANGE RIVER,
                                     _September 26th, 1899_.

Soldiers and sand--clouds of sand whirring and eddying through the
air, drifting through closed windows, piling in swift-mounting heaps
against barred doors. That is the camp here, stretching upon both
sides of the railway line in orderly rows, flanked upon either
extremity by a ragged outspan of waggons, empty to-day but soon
creating work for numerous fatigue parties when the orders come to
push forward the supplies. At present it is only a small cluster of
tents, many more tents than men--this to confuse the friendly Boers
who, visiting the railway station refreshment bar for the purposes of
espionage, stop to drink in an effort to gauge the strength of the
camp by counting the ranks of dirty white tents which flap and quiver
in the breezes. Such an impossible little camp, but so impressed with
the true spirit.

Colonel Kincaid, R.E., commands at Orange River, and his force
comprises a few companies of the Loyal Lancashire Regiment, a troop or
two of the Cape Police District II., sections of the Field Company of
Engineers, a composite field battery and a few stores--but a general
numerical insufficiency of men and munitions. Major Jackson, with
Major Coleridge, commands the companies of the Loyal Lancashires that
were detailed with him from Kimberley, where his regiment lies, for
duty at this camp. Surgeon-Major O'Shanahan takes care of the field
hospital which has been attached to the camp, and Captain Mills, R.A.,
controls the artillery. It is a happy family, this British camp in
which the necessity for hard work is understood and the members of
whose circle willingly endure the difficulties and privations of their
situation. From the ends of the earth they have come together to be
dumped down upon the Orange River flats, where for many days they will
remain an important unit in the scheme of preparation, but one which
stands alone and aside from the general hurry and scurry of our
belated movements. There is a bridge across the Orange River at this
point, and it is the duty of protecting it and guaranteeing it from
the attentions of the Boers, guarding its approaches by cunningly
contrived gun emplacements and enveloping its definite security in a
network of defensive measures, which is, for the time, the sole
objective of the various officers and detachments that compose Colonel
Kincaid's command.

The conformation of the country abutting upon Orange River presents
those composite peculiarities of construction which contribute more
generally to the setting of the high veldt. Orange River is broken by
hills and river-beds, dry courses with rock-strewn banks, patches of
sand, sparsely grassed and destitute of bushes. The land to the west
rolls smoothly to the watershed of the river, breaking into bush and
short rises about the banks of the stream. The water clatters among
stones and rocks to the north-west, leaving to the south-west and due
west the same barren open sand flats. Upon the east there is a slight
contrast to the evenness of the pastureless country which meets the
sunset; but the fall of the land due south, south-east, south-west, is
unchanging, the compass shifting due east and north-east before the
abrupt and rugged lines of the country are exposed. Then, and then
only, does the face of the country reveal its uncouth and
uncomfortable character. East, whence the waters stream beneath the
railway bridge, the watershed is herring-backed, concealing, beneath
rough folds of rising ground, stretches of bush veldt and stony
patches. High ridges debouch at right angles to the stream, with
uncertain contours and abrupt declivities; detached kopjes rise from
upon the face of the country, claiming classification with the ages
around them, but standing aloof with forbidding mien--a formidable
menace to the chance of successful storming. Parallel hills and ridges
distinguish the hinterland of this watershed so far inland as the
areas of the Orange Free State, while the broken and dangerous
character of the country east-north-east, continuing until the
watershed of the Modder River, still further prolongates these
disturbing features. The valley of the river, within a mile from the
stretch of flats which rolls away from the bases of the hills,
converges until the sides lie within a few hundred yards of each
other. There the stream rushes and roars with some force, until the
wider reaches of the plain give to the pent-up waters a greater space
of revolt. From the mouth of the valley the river wanders with easy
indifference across a broader course to the west; gathering its volume
from the seasons, and leaving in the hot weather a margin of shining
stones upon both sides of the river bed. The hills are in pleasant
contrast to the even tenour of the veldt, and the cool waters of the
river invite repose. Small game lurk within the cover of the scrub,
mountain duck haunt the mountain cataract; cattle roam across the
land, snatching mouthfuls of dry herbage, while just now the sides of
the hills throw back the echo of the military occupation, the noises
of the camp, the calls of the horses upon the picket lines, the heavy
thudding of the picks, the shrill rasping of the shovels in the places
where the men are throwing up the necessary field works.

Everywhere is the spectacle of orderly bustle. The summits of the
hills are crowned with earthworks, brown lines of trenches traverse
the valley, block houses command the entrances of the bridge. These
are the signs of the times, encompassed in an unremitting rapidity of
execution. Colonel Kincaid rides from point to point, throwing advice
here, praise there, and expressing general satisfaction over the
labours of his men, as the scheme of defences runs to its conclusion.
Out across the plain, upon Reservoir Hill, the sappers are
constructing an entrenched position under the direction of Captain
Mills, R.A., and especially designed to protect the water supply.
Roads have been cut across the rear face of the hill, a breastwork of
stones and earth encircles the Reservoir, and gun emplacements flank
either extremity. It is a pretty work, carefully conceived, skilfully
constructed, commanding the portion of the camp, and sweeping the
approaches to the bridge. From the top of Reservoir Hill, no great
eminence, the surrounding country is easily inspected, and the more
one scans and studies the peculiarities of its formation, the more
one becomes impressed with the fact that it presents the gravest
obstacles to the British principles of military operations. A
well-equipped and mobile force will hold the hills for eternity--but
God help the troops who are launched against these awful kopjes which
create the strength of such positions. The officers commanding these
detached units along this border have received instructions to prepare
extensive lines of fortifications round their bases, and at De Aar, as
at Orange River and elsewhere, these commands have been complied with,
until now the positions need only the service of some good artillery
to be made impregnable. When cables be at the disposal of a possible
enemy, it is as well to be reticent upon the cardinal weaknesses
within our lines, but already there are signs of the extreme haste
with which the troops have been despatched to the front. No unit would
appear to be complete, despite the months of warning in which there
has been ample opportunity to prepare. Everything is rushed through at
the last, and although urgent orders be issued to make ready against
attack, no artillery is available for the purpose. Everything is
obscured in idle talk or deferred by empty promise, and the
authorities appear to be continuing a policy which gives to the Boers
some justification of their hopes of success. The Imperial
authorities, in relying so much upon the moral effect of their
artillery, appear to forget that the better it is, the more important
the results it achieves; the more important the position to be
defended, the better it should be. The Boers lose nothing by
possessing modern weapons of defence. But with a wing only of the
King's Own Light Infantry to occupy De Aar, and four companies of the
Loyal Lancashires to hold Orange River, the need of strong artillery
support is manifest. It has been laid down that the proportion of guns
to men is as near as possible three guns to one thousand men, but this
proportion must depend upon the nature of the service upon which the
force is to be employed, the topography of the theatre of war and the
quality of the troops. A force intended more for the occupation of
strong positions, must have a larger proportion of guns than an army
intended for offensive operations in the field. De Aar, as one base of
operations toward the lines of least resistance to the western,
southern, and south-eastern approaches to the Orange Free State, is
even more important than our position at Orange River, which is
intended, in the event of any campaign, to protect the railway bridge
and the lines of communication with the north. But at De Aar the lines
of railway, which converge upon it, link Pretoria and Bloemfontein to
Cape Town, connect the north with the south, join Cape Town with the
south and south-east by a stretch of line almost parallel with the
southern border of the Orange Free State. Yet, so dilatory have been
the efforts of headquarters to obtain the necessary artillery, that,
having reduced South Africa to a condition of war, they split up
between De Aar, Orange River, and other defenceless, but important,
strategic positions along the western border, improvised field
batteries drawn from any garrison lumber room which came handy.

The artillery at present upon this border is, as a consequence, the
seven-pound muzzle-loader which was obsolete when the passing
generation of officers were at the "shop." The inadequacy of the
artillery is a matter of the gravest concern, since, even if the
troops at these places be sufficient to police the disaffected areas,
and to hold in check the local disposition to rebel, in face of the
weapons of precision with which the Boer forces be armed, it would be
impossible, should they move forward, for the British artillery to
maintain any position which was incumbent upon the possession of good
artillery. So well is this realised by our Intelligence Department,
that elaborate precautions are taken by that Bureau, as well as all
commanding officers, to prevent the enemy from discovering that, in
its main part, the strength of the batteries in opposition has been
drawn from derelicts in the garrison stores. These improvised field
batteries might be of service in maintaining the line of communication
if any advance of British troops be made, but as an actual factor in
any defensive or offensive movements which the forces may undertake,
their restricted utility escapes all serious consideration, and puts
our present artillery almost at once out of action. The physical
configuration of the country urgently calls for the immediate despatch
of modern weapons, similar to those which the Sirdar used in his
Soudan campaign. In addition to this an exchange, piece by piece,
between these seven-pounder muzzle-loading monstrosities and the
converted twelve-pounders, breech-loaders and high-velocity quick
firers, might be seasonably effected. Five-inch howitzers, too, should
also be sent forward. But the lack of reliable artillery is
scandalous, and the sooner that guns, of a calibre which is in a true
proportion to the importance of the positions which they will command,
arrive upon the scene, the less uncertain will be the results of any
actual contact between our forces in their present deplorable
condition and those of the African Republics with whom we are so soon
to be at war.




CHAPTER V

DIAMONDS AND WHITE FEATHERS


                                        THE CAMP, KIMBERLEY,
                                     _September 28th, 1899_.

This usually dull and dirty mining station has now been occupied by a
small detachment of British troops. The force arrived here from the
camp at Orange River within the week, and include the 1st Loyal North
Lancashire, with its usual complement of machine guns, No. 1 Section
of the 7th Field Company of Royal Engineers, 23rd Company of Garrison
Artillery with 2.5 seven-pound muzzle-loaders on mountain carriages
(which are almost useless and certainly obsolete weapons), an
organised Army Medical Staff, and a transport most indifferently
equipped if it be intended for immediate and prolonged field service.
Yet it is claimed that nothing has been omitted which could make this
force an imposing factor in the chance of attack to which, from its
exposed situation, the hapless Kimberley is threatened. The Loyal
Lancashire Regiment is in full strength, but the battalions have been
divided between the positions here and the camp just south of the
Orange River. It is, of course, doubtful whether much be gained by
splitting up our forces along the border into small units, but at the
present juncture, when so few troops be in the colony, this policy is
receiving its own justification. We are all urgently hoping for the
arrival of troops, since if there were a general advance of the Dutch
troops, a contingency not by any means altogether remote, upon any one
of these well-defined but indifferently manned places, the task of
maintaining the advanced lines would be a severe strain upon the
efforts of the very limited number of men that are available at each
point. It is surely only within the limits of the British Empire that
a frontier line over 1,500 miles in extent would be kept absolutely
without any defensive measures; while it is Boer activity during the
past few weeks that has induced the Colonial authorities to adopt
their present precautions. Our troops are now more or less efficiently
prepared at certain points along this Western boundary, and, if no
order has yet come for their mobilisation, the steps necessary to
effect it have all been completed. At Kimberley, in the few days which
have elapsed, wonders in the preparation of the town's defences have
been worked, and the alarm which caused so much panic there before the
arrival of the soldiers has now, in part, subsided.

For many hours before the arrival of the troops at Kimberley crowds of
interested spectators besieged the railway station and thronged the
dusty thoroughfares of the town. The Imperial men detrained very
smartly to the sound of the bugle, off-loading the guns and ammunition
to the plaudits and delights of an admiring crowd. The actual
detraining took place at the Beaconsfield siding, two miles from
Kimberley, the men not making their camp in the town until the next
morning. For the time the transport was stored in the goods sheds,
and the troops arranged to bivouac beside the railway. The traffic
manager had prepared fires and boiling water before the men came, so
that soon after their arrival they were all served with dinner. The
detailing of guards, posting of sentries, and other evolutions
incidental to open camp, permitted Kimberley to indulge its taste for
military pomp and vanities. Imperial troops have not been here since
two squadrons of the 11th Hussars passed through from Mashonaland in
November, 1890, and the presence of the troops has inspired the
townfolk with a magnificent appreciation of the gallant men who have
come up for their protection. It is hoped that special means will be
taken to interest the troops in the few hours which they have free
from work. At present all attention is being devoted to the
construction of the defences of the town, to the formation of adequate
volunteer assistance, to the arrangement of a complete system of alarm
and rallying spots. Lieut.-Colonel Kekewich, in command of the
Imperial camp here, is anxious to assist the people in rifle practice
and field-firing; while the Diamond Fields Artillery and the De Beers
Artillery are to be called out for temporary service in conjunction
with the Imperial Artillery.

The rumour that a Boer force is within the vicinity of Kimberley has
done much to assist in the speedy formation of local forces, and now
that the train mules and private bullock teams have been requisitioned
for the Imperial service, there is much solemn speculation upon the
date of hostilities. The fact is that no one here can, with any
certainty, predict an hour. A shot anywhere will set the borderside
aflame. Moreover, the Boers are daily growing more impudent. At
Borderside, where the frontiers are barely eighty yards apart, a field
cornet and his men, who are patrolling their side of the line, greet
the pickets of the Cape Police who are stationed there with exulting
menaces and much display of rifles. But if the Dutch be thirsting in
this fashion for our blood, people at home can rest confident in the
fact that there will be no holding back upon the part of our men once
the fun begins. Seldom has such a determined and ferocious spirit
animated any British force as that one which is now stimulating the
troops in South Africa. Every man is sick of the Cabinet's delay, but
they find consolation in the fact that the slow movement of the
Ministerial machine is undertaken to avoid any precipitation of the
crisis before the forces to be engaged have arrived upon the scene.
Then it is every man's ambition to take his own share in "whopping"
Kruger.

I did not hurry to leave Kimberley; but the place where the diamonds
come from, the least admirable of any town on earth, is no longer
essential to my existence. It has neither charm nor elegance, and it
is sufficiently irregular in its construction to be the most barbarous
example of architecture in South Africa. It greets the traveller
enveloped in the haze of heat, and it bids him farewell through a
cloud of sand. But if one has once imagined what the appearance of the
mining town may be, let him give it a wide berth. It is a conglomerate
jumble of tin houses with dusty streets dedicated to modern industry,
and palpitating with the mere mechanical energy of native labour.

[Illustration: Major Lord Edward Cecil, C.S.O.]

Kimberley, however, was a convenient immediate base between Orange
River and Mafeking. Around these two places rumour was spreading a
well-woven net of probabilities, intimate yet inherently
impossible. War, bloody and fierce, was alternately looming large in
the horizon just above their situations, so for the moment I tarried,
watching the approach of impending battle from afar off. It was a fine
feeling, the constant thrill caused by the mere vividness of martial
rumours. They came from Buluwayo in the North, they came from Cape
Town in the South, they were brought daily from Bloemfontein; and if
they gave infinite zest to the passing hours, it was but the
happenings of the hour that they were doomed to be misbelieved. To
listen to the gossip and rumours of Headquarters at once became the
most serious interest which our life contained just now. Spies are
seen everywhere. Within the shade of every shadow there is said to
lurk a Boer secret service agent, and, as a consequence, the attitude
of the public is one in which each figuratively lays a grimy finger to
his nose and breathes blasphemies in whispers to his confiding friend.
The spy mania which swept through France but a few weeks ago has
appeared here, endowed with magnificent vitality. At Mafeking it has
dominated both the military and the public, and, as an illustration, I
append the official notice, on page 46, in which many of these gentry
are warned from the town by Lord Edward Cecil, Chief Staff Officer to
Colonel Baden-Powell.

    NOTICE.

    =SPIES=

    There are in town to-day nine
    known spies. They are hereby
    warned to leave before 12 noon to-morrow
    or they will be apprehended.

    By order,
    E. H. CECIL, Major,
    C.S.O.

    Mafeking,

    7th Oct., 1899.

    THE NOTICE TO SPIES ISSUED BY COL. BADEN-POWELL.

Kimberley has not yet gone so far as this notice, but a similar step
is in serious consideration, and the notice will soon be promulgated.
What with spies, war scares, reports of Boer invasion, and of active
hostilities having commenced, the Western border is living in a seethe
of excitement, and appreciating the crisis with but doubtful
enjoyment, and many signs of such indisputable terror. Kimberley has
called forth its volunteers, who in name are glorious, but in
utility uncertain. The Town Guard, after fortifying itself with much
Dutch courage, has taken unto itself a weapon of precision of which it
knows nothing. Infantry and musketry drill have not existed for the
town of diamonds; they are for the Cape Police, for the Mounted
Rifles, for Imperial troops; but for those who are regular in their
mining, but irregular in their drill, there is none of it. These
heroes shake with terror in private, but they gnash their teeth with
impotent valour in public; at heart they are rank cowards, for the
most part leaving to the few decently spirited the duties of volunteer
defence, and to the soldiery and constabulary the rigours of the
coming battle.

Nothing perhaps has been so discreditable as the hurried flight of men
from these towns which are within the area of possible hostilities. It
is perhaps different where they belong to the Transvaal, but one would
expect Englishmen, who have seen their womenfolk to places of
security, to proffer such service as could be turned to account in
these hours of emergency. It is an unpleasant fact to reflect upon
that the leaders of the general panic and consequent exodus from these
towns are mostly Britishers. From sheer force of numbers the
white-feathered brigade merits solicitous contempt.

Such is Kimberley in the passing hour, and as I waited there to see
whether the rumours would crystallise into actualities, the word was
passed round that three commandos of the Boers were concentrating upon
Mafeking. Heavens! how the specials skittled! By horse and on foot, by
cab and cart, they dashed to the station. Lord! and the train had gone
some hours! But, with the instinct of true war-dogs, they fled in
special expresses to the scene where attack was threatened. They might
have crawled from Kimberley to Mafeking on hands and knees, for Boers
may camp and Boers may trek, but war is still afar off. Had we not
travelled in such haste, the journey might have proved of interest,
but impatience made the time speed quickly, and the frontier posts
upon the road went by unnoticed. Just now these frontier stations are
of public interest. At Fourteen Streams, at Borderside, at Vryburg,
Boer commandos have laagered within a few yards of the frontier fence,
and since human nature is ever prone to politeness, it has become the
daily fashion for Boer and Britisher to swear at one another across
the intervening wires. John Bosman, a Borderside notoriety, implicated
in a late rising of the natives against Imperial authority, is in
command of one hundred and fifty "cherubs," as the Boer captain dubs
his gallant band. Matutinal and nocturnal greetings have enabled the
two forces to become acquainted with one another, and it is held to be
a sporting thing for men, from either force, to invade each other's
territory, inviting blasphemies and creating some excitement, since at
Borderside the friendly relations between the two countries be
altogether gainsaid.




CHAPTER VI

TWO DAYS BEFORE WAR


                                         THE CAMP, MAFEKING,
                                        _October 9th, 1899_.

Mafeking lies a day's journey by the train from Vryburg, and was once
the terminus of the Cape railway system pending its extension
northwards. Just now it is the embodiment of a fine Imperialism. There
is the dignity of empire in the shape of her Majesty's Imperial
Commissioner, Major Gould Adams, C.B., C.M.G.; the majesty of might,
as suggested by Colonel Baden-Powell, of the Frontier Force; by
Colonel Hore, of the Protectorate Regiment; by Colonel Walford, of the
British South Africa Police; by Colonel Vyvyan, base commandant; and
there are, too, the various strengths attached to the respective
commands. For weeks this little place has been terrorised by Boer
threats, until the presence of the military has reassured them. Now,
however, the veldt beyond the town has been effectively occupied by
the different commands, while within the town, or beyond its outer
walls, noise and bustle everywhere embody the grim reality of war. It
has not been possible to visit the different camps, in time for this
mail, since the exigencies of war have interfered with the dispatch
of the English letters from the more remote districts, and until the
country is more settled the night train service is altogether
discontinued. This week's mail is two days in advance of its usual
fixture; but perhaps we are fortunate, since the mail coach to
Johannesburg has discontinued running, its last journey from Mafeking
being confined to taking back to the Transvaal the few things which
belonged to it in Mafeking. The supplementary coach was behind, its
harness was stored in sacks upon the top, and thus it made its
departure. It had better have remained at Mafeking, for no sooner had
the coach passed the border-line than its mules were commandeered for
transport by order of the Transvaal Government.

Mafeking has entered into warlike preparations with commendable zeal,
but in reality men are uncertain whether to face the music or to skip
with their women and children. Ostensibly they wish to bear the brunt
of an attack upon their town, but as time wears on and the numbers of
the Boer force concentrated upon the border increase, the number of
men available for actual volunteer service grows beautifully less.
Mines have been laid down, fortifications thrown up, the volunteers
and local ambulance services have been called out, and an armoured
train patrols the line. The staff officers are everywhere, a crowd of
journalists drifts about smothered beneath a variety of secret
reports. Every one wears a worried look, and still the expected does
not happen. To break the monotony of false alarms, of the sound of
armed feet marching anywhere, of bells by day and rockets by night, of
irresponsible gossips chattering upon subjects they do not understand,
of the plague of locusts thick as fleas on Margate Sands (a plague as
great as the military bore)--there is lacking but one thing--WAR. The
troops want it to prove their efficiency, the journalists demand it to
justify their existence, the countryside approves since it has sent
the price of foodstuffs and of native labour to a premium, the Boers
want it as the first step in that great scheme by which they hope to
reduce London to ashes and sweep the red-vests of Great Britain into
complete oblivion.

But if the path of glory lies in that direction for the Boer
sharpshooter, Mafeking will present him with a splendid spectacle just
so soon as the curtain rises upon the drama of mortal combat between
Boer and Britisher. It is a straggling town this Mafeking, and covers
an area wider than its dignity demands. But should Commandant Cronje,
who is hovering upon the border at Louw's Farm with 6,000 Boers, come
down, in that spirit of unctuous rectitude which epitomises the
Scripture and so distinguishes the Boers, a bill will be settled by
this little town against the man who, already the hero of many
historical iniquities, baulked Jameson of his raid.

Upon this point Colonel Baden-Powell's notice to the inhabitants is
instructive:--

     NOTICE.

     DEFENCE MINES.

     "The inhabitants are warned that mines are being laid at
     various points outside the town in connection with the
     defences. Their position will be marked, in order to avoid
     accidents, by small red flags.

     "Cattle herds and others should be warned accordingly.

     "Mafeking: Dated this 7th day of October, 1899."

If this throws a sidelight upon the situation here, the second notice
paints in the background with gloomy shadows:--

     "NOTICE.--It is considered desirable to state to the
     inhabitants of Mafeking what is the situation up to date.

     "Forces of armed Boers are now massed upon the Natal and
     Bechuanaland Borders. Their orders are not to cross the
     border until the British fire a shot, and as this is not
     likely to occur, at least for some time, no immediate danger
     is to be apprehended. At the same time a rumour of war in
     Natal or other false alarm might cause the Boers upon our
     border to take action, and it is well to be prepared for
     eventualities.

     "It is possible they might attempt to shell the town, and
     although every endeavour will be made to provide shelter for
     the women and children, yet arrangements could be made with
     the railway to move any of them to a place of safety if they
     desire to go away from Mafeking, and it is suggested that
     some place on the Transvaal border, such as Palapye Siding,
     or Francistown, might be more suitable and less expensive
     places than the already crowded towns of the colony. The men
     would, of course, remain to defend Mafeking, which, with its
     present garrison and defences, will be easy to hold. Those
     desirous of leaving should inform the Stationmaster,
     Mafeking, their number of adults and children, class of
     accommodation required, and destination.

                                      "COLONEL BADEN-POWELL,
                        "Colonel Commanding Frontier Forces.
                                    "October 7th, Mafeking."

One turns from this to learn that streets in the town are barricaded,
that the houses are sandbagged, that the railway is patrolled by an
armour-plated train, which is imposing if incapable of much
resistance. It is fitted with Nordenfeldt and Maxim quick-firing
machine guns, and provided with a phonophone and an acetylene
searchlight which stands like a fiery dragon at one end of the car.
The train is in three parts, the engine being placed between two
trucks. Each of the vehicles is about thirty feet long, mounted on
four pairs of wheels, and is capable of holding sixty men. The entire
train is covered over with 3/4-inch steel armour-plate over double
iron rails, but at some recent trial the bullets from Lee-Metfords and
Martinis penetrated at 200 yards' range through all thicknesses of
armour.

Mafeking is situated upon a rise about three hundred yards north of
the Molopo River, and from time to time its history has been
associated with military enterprises. It is not an unimportant town,
and in that day when it has been connected by railway with the
Transvaal and its present system has been improved, its commercial
importance will receive material increase. The present railway, which
cuts through Mafeking in its journey to Buluwayo, is to the west of
the town, running north and south and crossing the Molopo River by an
iron bridge, at which point the trend of the railroad inclines to the
west. To the west of the railway again is the native stadt, extending
to both sides of the river, and commencing about half a mile from the
railway. The stadt extends to the west from the base of a rise beyond
the bed of the river which, at present, covers the exterior line of
the western outposts. Near the railway the ground <DW72>s gradually for
a considerable distance, while the country around Mafeking is flat in
general, but across the Molopo, to the south and south-east, it
commands the town, while the ground to the west of the stadt commands
the stadt. The native village rests upon this western face, and, owing
to the rough character of the country upon which the stadt lies, this
native town has received the name of "The Place among the Rocks."
About a mile from the town, and slightly east, there is an old fort
called Cannon Kopje, a hideous collection of stones, which is held by
a detachment of the British South Africa Police. It has an interior
diameter of some thirty yards. The native location lies between Cannon
Kopje and the town, on the southern bank of the river. The native
stadt consists of Kaffir huts. Further east, and between the native
location and Cannon Kopje, on the northern bank of the river, extend
the brickfields, while a little further in the same direction is
MacMullan's Farm. Between the farm and the ground to the north-east is
the racecourse and the waterworks, which are connected by a pipe with
The Springs, a natural water-hole to the east of the town. Cannon
Kopje is due south of the town, the cemetery north, the native stadt
west, the racecourse east. Between these points there are a few
buildings which serve as local landmarks. There is the Convent to the
north-east corner, Ellis's Corner south-east, the Pound south-west,
and the British South Africa Police Barracks west.

[Illustration: Outpost and Entrenchments, Southern Front.]

The town of Mafeking has been built upon a rock, the centre of the
town being the market square. Buildings extend at all points from the
square, running into the veldt, showing an irregularity of design and
no architectural perfection. The town is principally composed of
bungalows, built of mud-bricks, with roofs of corrugated iron. The
population in time of peace includes some 2,000 whites and some 6,000
natives. Just now there are perhaps 1,500 whites, 8,000 natives, the
ordinary population of the native village being swelled by the influx
of some native refugees from the Transvaal. The perimeter of the
defences is between five and six miles. The armoured train protects
the north-west front. Between the railway on the north-west and the
Convent, there are some trenches, built with an eye to their future
use. Upon the western and eastern bases of the town there are further
trenches, manned by the Protectorate Regiment, the Town Guard, and
other local volunteer corps. The town was garrisoned by the Cape
Police under Inspector Marsh and Inspector Brown. Colonel Walford held
Cannon Kopje with the British South Africa Police. Colonel Hore
commanded the Protectorate Regiment, which was scattered about the
defences of the town under its squadron officers. The western outposts
were entrusted to Major Godley, while in this direction there were
also the Women's Laager and the Refugee Laager in Hidden Hollow. To
the south-west was Major Godley's headquarters. Below this, and
further to the west, was Captain Marsh's post, upon the other side of
which, along the eastern front of the town, there are many forts in
process of construction. There are De Koch's, Musson's, Ellitson's
Kraal, Early's Corner. These forts will be garrisoned by the Town
Guard, and it is hoped that they will be provided with adequate
protection from the enemy's artillery. The Railway Volunteers
garrisoned the cemetery and controlled an advanced trench about eight
hundred yards to the front. In the meantime, every effort is being
made to press forward the work of constructing the defences, and every
one appears to be willing to assist. The aspect of the town is
gradually changing, and in the little time that is left to us we hope
to ensconce ourselves behind something of an impregnable defence.




CHAPTER VII

THE SKIRMISH AT FIVE MILE BANK


                                         THE CAMP, MAFEKING,
                                       _October 14th, 1899_.

Early this morning a mounted patrol under Captain Lord Charles
Bentinck reported the Boers in strong position to the north of the
town, and engaging them at once a general fight ensued.

Colonel Baden-Powell, upon receiving this information, instructed
Captain Fitzclarence, D Squadron Protectorate Regiment, which is
commanded by Colonel Hore, to cover the right flank of the armoured
train, which had already moved out to support the patrol of A
squadron, and which, under the direction of Captain Williams, British
South Africa Police, drove the Boer artillery from two positions.

It may be said that this movement began the more serious and certainly
the more determined portion of the engagement. Captain Fitzclarence
was accompanied by seventy men. Upon the termination of the fight he
had twelve wounded, two dead, and two others wounded so seriously that
they since died. The firing-line at no time contained more than two
troops, who, in extended order, and having seized the little cover
which was available, hotly contested the position against four hundred
Boers. Upon the arrival of the squadron under Captain Fitzclarence the
Boers again began to fall back, and withdrawing their right flank from
its propinquity to the armoured train, they projected their entire
force well beyond the right flank of Captain Fitzclarence. The two
forces both in extended order, the one falling back upon the lines of
a position which had been carefully selected and which was admirably
adapted to their methods of fighting, the other pursuing, then
prepared to settle matters between themselves. Had Captain
Fitzclarence but realised it, and had this young officer not been so
intrepid, he would have recognised in this Boer movement the ruse by
which they hoped to entice the "Red necks" within range of a position
from which they could be more effectually surrounded. The motive in
their movement to the rear was to secure the ample protection which
was offered to them by the low ridge covered with timber, scrub, large
masses of rock, and cut up by many little sluits, which extended along
the line of their retreat. When once the Boers had gained this ridge
they faced about, though it must not be imagined their retirement was
in any way a mad gallop. They fell back in as good order as our
squadron advanced, but so soon as they had lined up upon the ridge it
could be seen how very greatly the Boer detachment out-numbered the
men opposed to them. Moreover, in a little their artillery again spoke
for itself, impressing the situation with still greater gravity. When
the Boer guns opened fire Captain Fitzclarence very wisely availed
himself of the shelter of three native huts, for the better protection
of the horses and any wounded that might come on. Leaving his horses
here, he advanced with his men in extended order, until he had secured
a line of front immediately adjacent to the Boers. Indeed, our
firing-line was at first only four hundred yards from the ridge; but,
after a short experience of such close quarters, it was found to be
wiser to take up a position some four hundred yards further off. The
action of Captain Fitzclarence in endeavouring to meet the Boer
commando was one of those inopportune acts of gallantry where loss,
should the fight be successful, is overlooked. Technically speaking,
of course, the strategy was all at fault, and it soon was seen how
very serious the situation of Squadron D had become. By good luck I had
joined this squadron in its move to the front, and it was very
interesting to observe how a force, whose composite qualities were
quite unknown, showed itself to be worthy of the utmost respect, and a
corps upon which every reliance could be placed. Our men did not seem
to mind the formidable odds against which they contended. The only
disconcerting thing at the outset of the action being the position of
the artillery on the Boer side, but for some reason the Boers ceased
their shell fire very shortly after the action had begun. This again
is another of those extraordinary blunders which creep into most
fighting. The Boers might have wiped Squadron D out of existence by
playing their nine-pounders upon our position. As it was, the Boer
commandant withdrew his artillery from the fight and relied solely
upon his rifles. From the little ridge, which, when our own
firing-line had fallen back, was barely five hundred yards distant,
there came a shower of Mauser and Martini bullets. The direction from
which the fire came at first suggested that the Boers were undecided
as to the area of the position which they would occupy, since shortly
after the action began the enemy's line of fire expanded until it
extended beyond our front. For the moment the firing-line developed,
continuing to expand until it became evident that the fire of their
either flank was here most effectually enveloping the rear of our
position, and endangering our line of retreat as well as those who had
been sent to the improvised hospital in the native huts. But it was
impossible to avoid such a contingency with the numbers against which
we had to contend. Indeed, there was no point from which this
enveloping movement could be escaped, since the men with Captain
Fitzclarence were already unduly extended. The rifle fire was very
heavy.

From the ridge of the Boer position our complete formation and the
situation of each unit could be seen. It merely required a little
sharpshooting, keen sight, and sufficient energy to cause a disaster.
Our men lay upon the ground seeking cover where they could find it,
but they had neither the trees, nor the low-lying shrubs, nor the
rocks, nor the sluits which had lent themselves to the Boers' shelter.
They simply lay, a determined body of men, individually keen for
distinction, and individually keen to put the Boers out of existence.
The firing became hot and so rapid that in a very short time the heavy
drain upon our ammunition was beginning to have effect. This again
establishes the position of D Squadron. There were no supplies, nor
was there any artillery support until too late. There was no
ambulance, and no effective preparation for retirement. The horses
behind the huts, the men in the front, were each in a position from
which it certainly seemed that escape was impossible. The Boers, upon
the contrary, had a train of supplies and an excellent line of cover
for retreat.

The first Boer shell killed two horses and reduced to ruins a hut from
the group which had given some protection to the wounded. The second
shell fell wide, exploding, with no effect, into a sand heap. Between
the intervals of shelling, the fire from the Boer Maxims whistled
across the open spaces between the two firing-lines with a discord
which was altogether out of harmony with the calmness and coolness of
our men who, so soon as they had settled down to the serious business
of the engagement, did not seem at all to mind the firing.

Two cousins, Corporal Walshe and Corporal Parland, Irishmen, were shot
dead very soon after the engagement opened, but the absence of
ambulance arrangements prevented those who were wounded in the
advanced position from falling back to the rear. With a quiet and
unsuspected courage they just stopped where they were shot until they
could muster sufficient strength to drag themselves to the rear. Each
wounded form became, as it crawled along, the objective of the Boer
rifle fire, and no few of those who had been hit in action were hit
again as they made their way to the field hospital. Here Major
Anderson, with whom I remained from the moment of my arrival until we
retired--who told me afterwards that it was a mere chance which caused
him to accompany the squadron to the field, since in the confusion and
din no one had thought to give him his orders--was busily dressing the
men as they came in. The total area of the improvised dressing station
was perhaps half a dozen yards; into that crowded six or seven horses,
seven or eight wounded men, the Surgeon-Major, his orderly, and all
those others who made their way through the firing-line from time to
time. There seemed to be indescribable confusion in this little spot.
The wounded men lay between horses' legs, rested upon one another,
crouched against the walls of the huts, each recognising that the
situation was one of gravity, and endeavouring to assist so far as he
was able; those who were not too severely wounded helped to undress
those who had been less fortunately hit, and to each as he fell back
from the firing-line to have his wounds dressed, there was thrown a
merry jest from his comrades. The nature of the wounds created no
little interest among the men, since it was the first time that any
one had seen the effect, upon human beings, of the Mauser bullets. One
man as he came back was advised not to sit down; another man, with
extraordinary coolness in seeing the nature of his wounds, which were
seven, exclaimed with a quaint blasphemy, that it still might be
possible for him to enjoy the functions of a married man. But if this
were the scene at the hospital base, the scene at our firing-line and
at that upon the Boer side was very different. We possibly occupied a
line of front some eighty yards in extent, and as the Boers saw that
the hospital hut was becoming the centre of our position, so they
extended their lines until a direct cross fire from the extremities of
the two flanks were added to the direct fire from the centre; each
man, therefore, was under a converging fire from three distinct
points, and had it not been that the Boers' aim was not so good as
their range our losses would have been much more serious than has
happily proved to be the case. We could see the Boers sitting in the
branches of the trees; we could see them crouching beneath bushes; we
could detect them, from the fire of their rifles, in the shelter of
the rocks and in the depths of the sluits. It soon became the first
serious consideration with our men to try to hit them as they sat in
the branches of the trees, and it was because Private Wormald caught
sight of a piece of a paper as it dropped from a tree that he was able
to shoot the Dutchman who was known to have shot the two cousins. It
was almost a unique method of warfare. Anon and again our fellows
enjoyed a little Boer potting among the foliage of the trees. Here and
there a body was seen to fall heavily from a branch, or to spring up
and fall heavily into a bush; that was as much as we could gauge of
the effect of our own handiwork. Those who were behind the stones were
possibly as safe as those who were in the sluits, but through the lack
of any effective support our shooting, good as it may have been, was
not sufficiently strong for us to maintain our position. If D Squadron
were to save itself from an unfortunate disaster it seemed that it
would have to fall back. The wounded men had come in so rapidly from
the front, and ammunition had been so heavily expended, that many of
those situated upon the extreme flanks of our position were completely
without ammunition. In one case five men had no ammunition left, and
one volunteered to go to the rear to obtain some from those who had
been wounded, and were consequently out of action. He successfully
accomplished this errand, sustaining, however, such wounds as must
prove fatal.

Captain Fitzclarence maintained his splendid isolation as long as
possible, and just as every one was wondering why, in the name of
Heaven, no artillery had been sent to support the squadron in a
position it was never intended to occupy, a gun detachment was seen
to gallop into action on the extreme right flank. Between our men and
the gun perhaps a mile stretched, and when we could see that they were
preparing to fire, each for a brief moment stopped to congratulate his
fellow upon the succour at hand. In this they didn't think of
themselves, but they hoped that with the aid of the gun they might
still be able to maintain their position and give the enemy a hiding.

Suddenly a cloud of smoke hung over the gun and a shell shrieked
through the air. We rapidly speculated upon the amount of damage it
would make, when, with noisy force, it burst among us. We thought at
first that the shell had fallen short, and we hoped the next would
reach the enemy, but when Lieutenant Murchison, who was in charge of
the gun, dismissed his second shell, and it was so well directed as to
fall upon one of the three huts behind which we were sheltering, the
luckless position of D Squadron received unmerited but instantaneous
aggravation and aggrievement, since it was turning the tables with a
vengeance upon the enemy when the guns coming to our support set,
forthwith, to shell us. The menace which our own artillery had thus
unconsciously become to one portion of our wounded men about these
huts had to be immediately removed, and I was one of two who were
permitted to carry intelligence of his mistake to the officer in
charge of the seven-pounder. In galloping across to the position of
the gun, the third shell thrown in this direction burst just past my
horse's head, the force of its wind almost lifting me from the saddle.
The moment was of interest, and I only realised my escape when, upon
returning, I found the base of the shell and my helmet lying quite
close to each other. When a new direction had been given to the guns,
and their fire brought to bear upon the position which the Boers
occupied, the rifle fire from the front of the ridge gradually
slackened, while, under cover of the very excellent work which this
gun was executing, our men fell back upon the hospital. Here an order
had just arrived instructing Fitzclarence to send back his wounded to
the armoured train, those uninjured covering the movement. While the
squadron was engaged in completing this order, no shots were fired
from the position of the Boers, and we concluded that they also were
engaged in withdrawing at discretion. Captain Fitzclarence, Lieutenant
Swinburne, and myself were the last to leave the line of action,
tailing off ourselves in the same open order that the remainder of the
squadron had been ordered to preserve. As we retired Captain
Fitzclarence put three wounded horses out of their misery, leaving
their bodies for the vultures that were already wheeling in circles in
the realms of space above us. These were the last shots fired in this
action, although through mistake, the Boers had fired upon the
ambulance train, mistaking it for a new instrument of destruction.
Subsequently we heard that the Boers buried their dead at
Ramathlabama, and we also have heard that all the houses in that place
have been seized as accommodation for the 107 Boers who were wounded
in the fight. These numbers may probably be exaggerated, but there is
no cause to doubt that their loss was much greater than ours, since
the proportion of their men to ours was greater than twelve to one.
Saturday thus initiated the Boer war along this frontier, and after
the morning's excitement the rest of the day passed without incident.
Colonel Baden-Powell, Colonel Hore, and Colonel Walford, the one as
the colonel in command, the others as the commanding officers of the
Protectorate Regiment and the British South Africa Police,
congratulated their men upon the stand which they had made in the
morning, and the courage which they had displayed. Brevet-Major Lord
Edward Cecil, C.S.O., described Captain Fitzclarence's movement as
brilliant. It is a question whether this movement was not, at least,
characterised by an equal amount of foolhardiness. However, the
officer himself showed such coolness in this his baptism of fire as to
deserve much congratulation upon his individual gallantry.




CHAPTER VIII

THE FIRST DAY OF BOMBARDMENT


                                         THE CAMP, MAFEKING,
                                       _October 22nd, 1899_.

There was some sign that the engagement of Saturday between the
Protectorate troops and the Boer forces investing Mafeking would have
been the precursor of a series of minor fights, which, if not of much
importance in themselves, yet would have been of interest and
encouraging to the command generally.

As it happens, however, the engagement of Saturday is the first, and,
up to the present, the only action of any importance, of any interest
whatsoever, that has been brought about between the two forces.
General Cronje is evidently a man of some humanity, though it is
perhaps possible that the motives which direct his present policy of
exceeding gentleness towards the "Rooineken" that he be besieging in
Mafeking, aims at procuring for himself, when the inevitable does
come, terms perhaps not quite so extreme as would have been the case
had the Boer commandant not conducted his operations in accordance
with the articles of war.

During the progress of the Sunday following the engagement at Five
Mile Bank, Commandant Cronje made a curiously sincere, but not
altogether unhumorous demand for our unconditional surrender. Colonel
Baden-Powell very properly felt he was unable to comply with any such
demand, and with the exchange of notes of a courteous character this
incident closed.

During Sunday the town put the finishing touches to the earthworks,
lunettes, and to the gun emplacements, which will form a more or less
complete chain of fortifications around the town. So much as possible,
and so far as it lay within the knowledge and experience of the Base
Commandant, Colonel Vyvyen, and Major Panzera, each distinct earthwork
was made shell-proof.

From the outside the town looks as if a series of gigantic mounds had
been suddenly created. At different points tiers of sandbags, several
feet high, protect the more exposed places, and to these again has
been added, as an exterior facing, banks of earth. Within such a
position as I am now describing there is a deep trench, which is of
that depth which enables a man standing upright to fire through
loopholes between sacks of sand. Behind the trench is a low shelter of
deals with an upper covering of sandbags, intending to serve the
garrison of the fort as protection against shell fire.

To those points which are exposed to the more direct attack of the
enemy, a Maxim has been detached or a seven-pounder emplaced. The Town
Guard man these positions: the work of patrolling, of forming Cossack
posts, of maintaining the outer lines of sentries, being undertaken by
the Protectorate troops and the Bechuanaland Rifles.

[Illustration: Headquarters, Bomb-proof Shelter.]

An elaborate system of signals has been arranged. A red flag will
fly from Headquarters should the Boers be coming on, and an alarm will
be rung in the centre of the town. The streets have been barricaded
with carts, and all open places protected by traverses of a useful
character. Mines have been placed within and without the town, and an
improvised field telegraph or the telephone has been connected with
every point which lies beyond the immediate precincts of the defences.
Every possible precaution that human ingenuity can devise and the
resources of the town supply for the protection of the place, is in
order.

Thus did Mafeking prepare for the Boer bombardment, and upon the
Monday following this took place; but it is perhaps no exaggeration to
say that nothing so ludicrous in the history of modern warfare has
been propagated as the gigantic joke which Commandant Snyman, who
directed the fire of the artillery, played off against us that day.
For many weeks we, along this frontier, had heard what the Boers
proposed to do once war should be declared. These forecasts had indeed
been sanguinary; the heads of the English people, had we believed in
these rumours, were to lie upon the veldt like the sand upon the sea
shore.

The bombardment as such was totally ineffective, and so curiously
amateur, so wholly experimental, as to move one to astonishment rather
than derision. It began at 9.15 a.m., and the first shell fell blind.
The second and the third also pitched short, but once the bombardment
had been initiated, the feelings of those who had dreaded such an
event, more on account of their women and children than on account of
themselves, were unperturbed. When the shells began to fall into the
town it was found that they were of such poor quality as to be
incapable of any explosive force whatever. Judging from their effect
the area of damage was not three square feet.

Shortly after the first few shells had been dropped the Boers found
the range, and from Signal Hill, their position to the east of the
town, threw several shells at the hospital and monastery. Strange as
it may seem our most grievous cause of complaint against the Boer plan
of war is that they do not respect sufficiently our Red Cross flag.
Commandant Snyman had given us no time in which to remove our women
and children, and, as a consequence, we established somewhat hurriedly
a laager, in which they were confined and which it was hoped would be
beyond the fire of the Boer, since we afforded it the protection of
the Red Cross flag. This, so far as the laager was concerned, luckily
proved to be the case, since on the occasion that Commandant Cronje
sent in to apologise for the firing upon the Red Cross by his younger
roughs during the Five Mile Bank fight, Colonel Baden-Powell took the
opportunity of pointing out to him the precise significance of this
flag, and the exact whereabouts of the buildings which enjoined its
protection. In the absence of direct evidence of the enemy's intention
upon this day, in the repugnance with which one would charge them with
wilful abuse of the Red Cross, it is good to believe that Colonel
Baden-Powell's letter was not communicated to Commandant Snyman
previous to this action, for from the moment that this officer opened
the bombardment until his artillery ceased fire for the day, each
individual missile was thrown directly across the hospital and
monastery. It was unfortunate that these buildings should have been in
the line of fire, and it was a fact greatly to be deplored that the
hospital should be filled, at such a moment, with women and wounded,
the former magnanimously devoting themselves to the work of looking
after those who had been disabled in Saturday's engagement. It was
perhaps unavoidable, with such a line of fire, that the shells should
not drop upon the hospital and monastery. Fearing this as we did, the
garrison was filled with consternation when, so abruptly that we had
scarcely realised what had been the actual object of the nameless
dread by which the camp was suddenly depressed, the inevitable
happened and we knew that a shell had burst within the hospital
itself. Had this shell been of the quality and explosive character
that we had been led to expect, one entire side of the hospital would
have been reduced to ruins; as it was, however, the area of
destruction most remote from the point of penetration was not three
feet in circumference. A little of the masonry was destroyed, a few
boards of the floor ripped up, and that was all. Dust and dirt,
however, covered everything.

Two more shells penetrated the same building in the course of the
attack--the one burst in the principal waiting-room, the other played
havoc with the children's dormitory. Fortunately no one was injured,
and it was a happy omen for future shelling that throughout the whole
of the first bombardment no human life was lost in Mafeking. There
were no casualties, and three buildings, the hospital, the monastery,
and Riesle's Hotel, alone were struck. The dead comprised one chicken.
There were many narrow escapes. My horse was fastened to the
hitching-post outside Riesle's Hotel at the very moment that a shell
burst against the steps of the verandah, but this animal would seem
to enjoy a happy immunity from shell fire, since at the Five Mile
Bank engagement there was a shell which burst within three or four
feet of him.

Our guns made no return whatever to the fire of the Boers, beyond a
chance shot which exploded by accident. After this very ineffective
and amusing bombardment had continued for some hours the enemy ceased
firing, and from their position only 2,000 yards from the town, and to
which they had moved from Signal Hill, where the attack had begun, the
usual messenger, half herald, half spy, was despatched to our lines.
It has become quite a feature of the Boer operations against Mafeking
for them to enjoy at every few hours a cessation of hostilities under
a flag of truce, and, I regret to say, that these constant messages in
the middle of an action, from the Boer Commandant to Colonel
Baden-Powell, are sent with an ulterior motive. The Boer Commandants
would appear to lack that experience of the conditions of warfare
which should enable them to perceive the folly and futility--if not
the guilt--of such procedure as they have been following since
operations against this town began. It was, perhaps, as much through
our own ignorance of the character of the enemy whom we were fighting
as anything, that they secured any profitable information by these
tactics, since we had expected that they would observe the unwritten
regulation which restricts the progress of a flag of truce to a point
half-way between the lines of the two forces. Upon no occasion at this
period in the investment did the Boers recognise this custom, but
securing cover where they could they crept down to our lines under
protection of the white flag. By these means they secured valuable
intelligence.

The Boer emissary was allowed safe conduct into our lines, and was
escorted by Captain Williams, of the British South Africa Police, who
was in command of the armoured train, and Lieutenant the Honourable
Hanbury-Tracy of Headquarters Staff, who had been sent out to meet
him. The messenger was conducted to Colonel Baden-Powell, who received
through this medium a second demand for unconditional surrender.
Commandant Snyman presented his compliments to Colonel Baden-Powell,
and desired to know if, to save further bloodshed, we would now
surrender. Colonel Baden-Powell received this message with polite
astonishment, and while not telling the deputy of Commandant Snyman
that his shell fire had only spilt the blood of a fowl, and knocked
small pieces out of three buildings, replied, that so far as we were
concerned, we had not yet begun. While the Headquarters Staff were
deliberating upon the reply to such a momentous message, the messenger
was regaled with beer and bread and cheese. He was escorted back at
4.45 p.m., and for the time being shell fire ceased.

On Monday the armoured train took up a position in advance of the
town, and in such a manner that it was completely sheltered from the
Boer position. It so happened that the Boer messenger came directly
upon this train, which was patiently waiting for the enemy's line of
fire to be advanced a few hundred yards further, before opening its
artillery. The little ruse which we had so carefully planned was thus
forestalled, and to prevent further disclosures being made the herald
was therewith blindfolded. It was a strange spectacle to see this Boer
being brought through our lines with a somewhat soiled handkerchief
across his eyes. His flag of truce comprised three handkerchiefs tied
to a bamboo, and as he came forward it waved with a motion in which
fright played as great a part as dignity.

The Boer Commandant had evidently determined to shell Mafeking from
three positions, but force of circumstances, and the undesirability of
throwing up earthworks under the telling fire which would have been
poured into him from our own trenches, prevented him bringing his
heavy artillery into position. He had stormed Mafeking from Signal
Hill with a twelve-pound Krupp, but when he advanced into a range of
2,000 yards he fell back upon a seven-pounder, and a nine-pound
high-velocity Krupp. These guns were quite unprotected by earthworks
and could be easily seen from the town. Indeed it was the possibility
of their being put out of action by our guns which instigated the
Commandant to secure a cessation of hostilities by despatching his
messenger upon some fatuous errand to Colonel Baden-Powell while he
and his entire force busied themselves in erecting breastworks about
his field pieces.

The Boer emissary arrived at 2.30 p.m., and no sooner had he been
received by us than the Boers began to work with pick and shovel,
continuing their labours throughout the conference. By the time that
their herald had returned two emplacements had been prepared and their
locality partially concealed by a quantity of small bushes and scrub
with which they had been covered.

It may be that Commandant Snyman was unaware of the breach of faith he
was committing in working upon his trenches under a flag of truce. It
is our hope that this should prove to be the case, since we would not
willingly believe that the Boers be so lost to the sense of fairness
which should underlie the provisions which prevail during any
cessation of hostilities as to promote a condition of truce for
interests of their own. But should this be, indeed, the extent of the
ignorance of the Boer Commandant upon the conditions governing war,
let us trust that he may soon furbish up his knowledge upon these
especial points.

When the messenger returned to his lines, the Boers proceeded to
advance in force upon the waterworks, and, driving in our outposts,
they have since maintained a control over our water supply. The town,
therefore, is wholly without water from this source, although we be
not in any way frightened at the loss of the springs, since many wells
have been opened out and many promising springs have been located
within the radius of the town, some of which watered the troops of the
Warren expedition. When we consider that to the majority this is their
first experience of war, and that the length of the siege is unknown
and more than likely to be protracted, it must be admitted that
Mafeking is bearing itself wonderfully well. The few women and
children who remained here show a dauntless front, while the men are
only too anxious, and indeed too willing, to indulge in some sniping
on their own account.

Nevertheless, the position of Mafeking at the present moment is one
which, if giving no cause for alarm, is at least unsatisfactory. Our
wires are still cut to north and south. Our line is up, and all around
us the Boers are supposed to be encamped, yet as the days go on it is
becoming harder and harder to realise that we are seriously engaged in
war, and we are more inclined to believe in the cheery optimism of
Colonel Baden-Powell. It is very like some gigantic picnic, although
it may doubtless be food for disquieting reflection. Occasionally we
sleep out at night, and are in the trenches all day, but upon the
whole it is quite impossible to believe that we are engaged in
repelling an enemy who already are investing us.

To get away from the hotels, to get more into contact with the spirit
of the siege, I have been camping out for some days at the most
outlying position upon the west facing of the town, but even by such
means it is infinitely difficult to find much that is instinctive with
active and actual campaigning. We perform the duties of a vedette,
watching by day and night, sleeping at oddly-snatched moments, ever
ready, and straining our vision in wild efforts to find trace of the
foe. But it amounts to but little in the end.

Since Monday we have seen small detachments of the Boers daily, we
have even exchanged outpost fire with them, while we have on three
different occasions turned our guns upon their position at the
waterworks; but these occurrences are purely incidental and not wholly
relative to the main features of the situation. It has become quite
necessary for us to justify our own existence, and since there be but
such vague signs of war around us, this desire has become infinitely
more difficult of fulfilment. As the time passes we receive messages
daily from different units in the Boer commando to friends in
Mafeking, which are sometimes amicable, sometimes impudent in
character; but to increase the irony of our situation, if we be
engaged in the press of battle at dawn, it is certain that at dusk we
shall be dining with no small degree of luxury at the hotel.

At present there has been no misery, for there has been no war, and
apart from the five lives that have been lost already, Mafeking to-day
is as it was a month ago. It would seem as though this gigantic war,
which so many people have been urging upon the Government, in relation
to the operations of the enemy along this frontier may develop into a
series of cattle raids by armed Boers. But if there be little in the
immediate situation to alarm us, there is behind the rose and silver
of the clouds a dark spot, a spot which growing bigger, ever bigger as
the days go by, implies that signs of the times are not wanting to
prove that our official optimism, forecasting the siege as but of
three weeks' duration, is based upon anything less secure than the
imaginings of a man who, knowing the hollowness of his words in his
own heart, seeks but to cheer the hearts of the garrison. There was
little sign of readiness in the Imperial troops, little to show that
they can relieve Mafeking before the year dies out in the birth of the
closing twelve months of the nineteenth century. But it were heresy to
say so now. The idle singer of an empty day dares not pronounce the
denunciation of his country in her hour of danger. Nevertheless, if
Mafeking be not relieved before the Christmas season, the hour of our
existence will be an hour of travail, impressed with the echoes of
much suffering and saddened by the memories of many who will be dead.
But for the time we will ignore the gravity in our situation, mock at
our splendid isolation, our scanty resources, since to dwell too long
upon the guilty splendour of the naked truth is to beget an
earnestness which will depress our spirits, allowing us to read out
the future of the siege in words of deadly omen.




CHAPTER IX

THE ADVENT OF "BIG BEN"


                             MAFEKING, _October 25th, 1899_.

To-day is the third day of the bombardment by which Commandant Cronje
is attempting to realise his threat of reducing Mafeking to ashes. Up
to the present it has been impossible to consider very seriously the
attempt of the Boers to besiege Mafeking. The earlier bombardment and
the series of events which have occurred during the interval have not
augmented the gravity of the situation. The Boer Commandant
endeavoured to carry out his word by opening the second bombardment of
Mafeking upon the day which he had notified Colonel Baden-Powell. We
had been incredulous at the threat of the Boers to send to Pretoria
for some siege guns. Monday, therefore, was a day of some anxiety for
us, and each was curious to know what result the enemy's fire would
produce. Upon this occasion, however, the townsfolk had reckoned
without taking into account the intentions of Colonel Baden-Powell,
and it was a very pleasant surprise to find that the bombardment of
Mafeking by the Boers had been converted into the bombardment of the
Boers by Mafeking. At a very early hour, two guns, which had been
placed near the reservoir, opened fire upon the enemy's artillery in
position at the water springs. The artillery duel which was thus
started continued for some hours, and if it did not do much damage to
either side it made manifest to the Boers that the defences of
Mafeking were not altogether at their mercy. About noon, however, the
Boers, who had been observed to place some guns in position upon the
south-west side of the town, threw shells at Cannon Kopje. Here again,
fortunately, no material damage was done.

Somewhat early in the afternoon, the look-outs reported tremendous
activity in the Boer camp. Across the veldt, those who cared, might
have seen the enemy engaged upon some enormous earthwork, which the
general consensus of opinion very quickly determined to be the
emplacements for the siege guns. They were about three miles away from
the town, and in a position different from that from which the guns
had shelled the kopje in the morning. The frequency with which shells
had exploded within the limits of Mafeking, had rendered the people
somewhat callous of the consequences, and despite an official warning
which was issued to the town, a large number of people stood
discussing, in excited groups, the value of this news, while no small
proportion of the population had gathered upon the west front to watch
with their glasses the completion of the enemy's earthworks. It was
three miles across the veldt, a mere black shadow upon the skyline,
distinguished by its proximity to a local landmark, the "Jackal Tree,"
where the Boers had intrenched their Creusot gun. It was not so much
that there were no other guns around us which had drawn the crowd, as
the morbid curiosity to see for themselves what perhaps in a few
hours they might never see again. At different points upon the eastern
and western heights the Boer guns had been stationed. To the
south-east there was a twelve-pounder at a very convenient range, and
so placed as to act as a flanking fire to the direct onslaught of "Big
Ben." Upon the extreme east there were two seven-pounders, one in
position at the water springs, the other covering the entire front of
the town. Upon the west and to the north the enemy had similarly
placed their guns. There was a seven-pounder emplacement, with a
Nordenfeldt support due west, 1,400 yards from the native stadt. Below
that, and between it and the north, the Boers had a Maxim. It is,
perhaps, somewhat extraordinary that an enemy who has procured the
best available artillery advice, should proceed to attack the town in
such a fashion, and much of the failure which has distinguished the
Boer bombardment is due to the fact that, instead of concentrating
their fire upon a series of given spots, they have maintained
simultaneous shelling from isolated points. As their shells fell, the
damage which they caused was scattered over a wide area, and confined
to a building here and there. Indeed, the greater portion of the
shells had merely ploughed up the streets. However, it was not to be
confirmed that afternoon. An hour after noon on the following day the
alarm rang out from the market place, the red flag was seen to fly
from headquarters, and the inhabitants were warned to take immediate
cover. Within a few minutes of the alarm, the proceedings for that day
began, and the first shell thrown from the Boer battery burst over our
camp. Presently on the distant skyline a tremendous cloud of smoke
hurled itself into the air. The very foundations upon which Mafeking
rests seemed to quiver, all curiosity was set at rest, and there was
no longer any doubt as to the nature of the new ordnance which the
Boers had with them. With a terrific impact the shell struck some
structures near the railway, and the flying fragments of steel spread
over the town, burying themselves in buildings, striking the veldt two
miles distant, creating a dust, a horrible confusion, and, an instant,
terror throughout the town. For the moment no one seemed to know what
had happened, when the sudden silence which had come upon the town was
broken by the loud explosion of the shell as it came in contact with
some building. It was a scene of unique interest, the rush of air, the
roar of its flight, the final impact, and the massive fragments of
steel and iron which scattered in all directions, gave no time for
those who had been exposed, to realise the cause of the disturbance.
Much as people throng to the spot where some appalling catastrophe has
occurred, so, a minute after the shell exploded, people appeared from
all directions to run to the scene, and although the shell had caused
no very great damage, the noise which it had made, its unusual size
and explosive force, did not tend to pacify people. Many were
convinced that Mafeking was doomed, and although no loss of life
occurred, there were few who did not think that their days were
numbered. In the course of the afternoon, after a rain of seven-and
nine-pound shells, the Boers opened with this gun again, and although
happily no loss of life occurred, the missile wrecked the rear of the
Mafeking Hotel, falling within a few feet of Mr. E. G. Parslow, the
war correspondent of the _Chronicle_. The force of the explosion
hurled this gentleman upon a pile of wood, blew the walls out of
three rooms, set fire to a gas engine, and effectually littered the
yard of the hotel. With the curious inconsequence which has marked the
Boer proceedings in their investment of Mafeking, the enemy threw no
more of these heavier shells during the afternoon, contenting
themselves with discharging at odd moments those of lesser calibre.

The two shells which had been fired during the afternoon gave the
inhabitants of Mafeking some little ground by which to judge the
nature of the bombardment on the morrow. After the cessation of
hostilities word was passed round that the two shells which had been
launched at Mafeking were a 64lb. howitzer and a 94lb. breech-loading
siege gun, and that it might be reckoned that these were but the
preliminary shots by which to measure the range. Officially it was
notified that every precaution must be taken to remain within the
bomb-proof shelters which the inhabitants of Mafeking had been advised
to construct. It is the presence of these pits which explains the
slight loss of life that has occurred during the Boer bombardment of
Mafeking. Up to to-day the effect of the terrible hail of shells which
has poured into the town has been but a few slight wounds. But there
could be no doubt that the more serious fighting was at last to take
place, and it seemed to us only natural to expect a general advance
upon Mafeking in the morning. The night passed with every man sleeping
by his arms and at his post. The women and children had been removed
to their laager, the horses were picketed in the river-bed, and once
again all preparations for defence, and all those measures which had
been taken to secure immunity from shell fire were, for the last time,
inspected. Firing began very early on Wednesday morning, a gun
detachment under Lieutenant Murchison opening with a few shells from
our position to the east of the town. When the light had become clear
the Boers brought their new siege guns once more into play. We
estimated at nightfall that the enemy must have thrown rather more
than two hundred shells into Mafeking, and if Mafeking be saved for
future bombardment its salvation lies in the fact that it is,
relatively speaking, little more than a collection of somewhat
scattered houses with tin roofs and mud walls. Any other form of
building would have been shaken to its foundations by the mere
concussion of these bursting shells. Where bricks would have fallen,
mud walls simply threw down a cloud of dust. But if Mafeking be still
more or less intact, it can congratulate itself upon having withstood
a most determined and concentrated shell fire.

It is difficult to defend the action of the Boers in laying upon
Mafeking the burden of these siege guns. We have heard no little from
Commandant Cronje upon the rules of warfare, as set out by the Geneva
Convention, by time-honoured practices, and by that sense of custom
and courtesy which at the present day still brings back some slight
echo of the chivalry which distinguished the wars in dead centuries.
Nevertheless, there is a grim and ill-savoured travesty in the Boer
bombardment of this town. We do not complain, and we must be forgiven
if we find some ironical and melancholy interest attaching itself to
our situation. Three times has Colonel Baden-Powell pointed out to
Commandant Cronje the buildings which enjoy the immunity of the Red
Cross flag, yet these buildings are still deliberately made the
objective of the Boer artillery; twice have we received flags of truce
from the Boers, ignoring altogether the fact that they were but the
clumsy subterfuge by which an unprincipled enemy secured to itself
some new and advantageous position for its guns; then, as a crowning
act of mercy, we have this Boer Commander, so blatant a gentleman that
he is by sheer force of his aggressive impudence worthy of our
attentions, training upon a defenceless town a 64lb. howitzer and a
94lb. breech-loading siege gun, pieces whose action is relegated by
these self-same observances of civilised warfare to towns who possess,
in the first place, strong fortifications; in the second, masonry and
concrete in their construction.

After the early morning hours had been whiled away Commandant Cronje
made preparations for a general advance upon the town under the
protection of his cannon fire. This was the moment which each of us
had longed for. As the Boer advance seemed to be concentrated upon the
eastern side, I proceeded to the redan at De Koch's Corner under Major
Goold-Adams, and, later on, to another a little lower down in the same
quarter of the town under Captain Musson. At this time, any one who
can, is supposed to bear arms to defend our position, and, so as to
more completely identify themselves with the movement for protection
of this place, the correspondents that are here are each carrying
their rifle and bandolier, and taking up their stand in some one of
the trenches. The correspondent of the _Chronicle_, Mr. E. G. Parslow,
the correspondent for Reuter's, Mr. Vere Stent, and myself, requested
Captain Musson, a local dairy farmer, who has been placed in charge of
one of the redans upon the east front, to allow us to assist him in
the protection of his earthwork, and it was from there, as a
consequence, that I watched the bombardment of Mafeking, taking an
active part in any rifle practice which Captain Musson permitted to
his men. At Major Goold-Adams's there had been stationed a Maxim
detachment, and it was not long before its sharp rat-a-tat-tat was
heard speaking to the enemy. The warm reception which was accorded to
the Boers from this redan soon began to draw their fire. With "Big
Ben" discharging its 94lb. shells in every quarter of the town, and a
12-pounder from the north-west dropping shrapnel with much
discrimination over that quarter, the enemy upon the east side soon
followed the example so shown them and discharged shells at the redans
along their front. The range was singularly good, and in a very few
minutes shells were dropping over and in very close proximity to our
two redans. Between the two, and but a little removed from the line of
fire, was the building of the Dutch Reformed Church, and several of
the shells intended for the Maxim in Major Goold-Adams's fort found
lodgment in its interior. The front of this church had been penetrated
in several places by the shells, when the gun was slewed suddenly
round upon the hospital and a shell fell in an outhouse attached to
the monastery with disastrous effect. When the smoke had cleared away
little was left of the building beyond a pile of smoking ruins. Above
Captain Musson's redan our untimely visitors constantly burst and
scattered, and we began to realise fully the value of the bomb-proof
shelters. In a little while, however, the Boers relaxed their shell
fire, and beyond maintaining sufficient fire to cover their advance,
the heavier guns were for the time silent. With this, the Boers began
to open out in extended order upon the east side of the town,
advancing on our west to within 900 yards of our defences. At each
point the Boer advance was protected by the guns, the heavy artillery
to the south-west seeming to be the centre of a circle of armed men,
who were advancing slowly upon this gallant little town. At no time
did the enemy, however, beyond the few upon the west side, come within
effective range of our rifles or our Maxims, contenting themselves
with taking up positions at 2,000 yards, and dealing out to us
prolonged rifle fire with some intermittent shelling. The firing was
very rapid, very general, and more or less impotent. Indeed their
expenditure of rifle ammunition and their extreme prodigality in
shells was as much playing into our hands as reaping them any
advantage.

By night we reckoned that over two hundred shells had been fired
alone, though it was very doubtful whether there be two hundred pounds
worth of damage to credit to them. We have had two men wounded, while
here and there it is believed that certain of the enemy received their
quietus. Whether we beat them off or whether they lacked the spirit to
attack us it be impossible to determine, and it is enough to say that,
whatever may have been their intention, Mafeking remains as it was
before the first shot was fired. At night, after the attack, Colonel
Baden-Powell issued a general order congratulating his forces and the
people in Mafeking upon their calmness during the heavy fire to which
they had been subjected.

As we are situated at present, it is impossible for us to leave our
trenches in order to give battle to the enemy, but we are still buoyed
up by the hope of being able before long to take in our turn the
offensive. In the meantime, most of us live with our rifles in our
hands, our bandoliers round our shoulders, existing upon food of the
roughest kind, peering over sandbags at the distant position of the
Boers, or crouching in the shell-proof trenches as their shells burst
overhead. There is much gravity in our isolated position; there is the
danger that, by good luck more than by skill, Mafeking may be reduced,
but there is no reason to fear that the determination and courage of
the town will give way. Above all else that may be calculated to
endure.




CHAPTER X

A MIDNIGHT SORTIE


                             MAFEKING, _October 28th, 1899_.

Last night there occurred one of those isolated instances of gallantry
by which the British sustain their high reputation. For some days, in
fact ever since the Boers secured their siege guns from Pretoria, the
enemy has been building a circlet of trenches around Mafeking. At the
least distance they are perhaps 2,500 yards, unhappily beyond the
reach of our rifle and Maxim fire. We have seen them lounging in their
breastworks, we have seen them gathered around their camp fires, and
the inability of Mafeking to shake off these unwelcome intruders has
been daily a source of irritation. We have not, of course, allowed
them to enjoy, undisturbed, the seclusion of their own earthworks,
and, as a continual goad in their side, little expeditions have been
despatched to make night fearsome to our besetting foe.

Another of these midnight sorties was undertaken last night, proving
in itself to be the most important move on our side since Captain
Fitzclarence and his men engaged the Boers two weeks ago. The same
officer, 55 men of D Squadron Protectorate Regiment, with Lieutenant
Murray and 25 men of the Cape Police, were the prime movers in an
attempt to rush the first line of earthworks of the Boer position.
Shortly after 11 o'clock Captain Fitzclarence, Lieutenant Swinburne
and their men started on the perilous undertaking. In the faint light
of the night we could see their figures from our own redans, silently
hurrying across the veldt. In the blue haze of the distance a black
blur betokened the position of the enemy, and it seemed that at any
moment the hoarse challenge of the Boer outpost would give the alarm.
The men crept on in slightly extended order, holding themselves in
readiness for the supreme moment. Nearer, and yet nearer, they drew to
the Boer entrenchments. The silence was intense. The heavy gloom, the
mysterious noises of the veldt at night, the shadowy patches in the
bush, all seemed to heighten the tension of one's nerves. In a little
while our men were within a few yards of the enemy; then furtively
each fixed his bayonet to his rifle, and as the blades rang home upon
their sockets the gallant band raised a ringing cheer. Instantly the
Boer position was galvanised into activity, figures showed everywhere,
shots rang out, men shouted, horses stampeded, and the confusion which
reigned supreme gave to our men one vital moment in which to hurl
themselves across the intervening space. Then there was a loud crash,
for, as it happened, many of our men were nearer the entrenchments
than had been anticipated, and their eager charge had precipitated
them upon some sheets of corrugated iron which the Boers had torn from
the grand stand of the racecourse for protection from the rain. With
our men upon the parapet of the trench, a few rapid volleys were fired
into the enemy, who, taken completely by surprise, were altogether
demoralised. Those in the first trenches seemed to have been petrified
by fright. Where they were, there they remained, stabbed with bayonet,
knocked senseless with the rifle's butt, or shot dead by the fire of
their own men. Captain Fitzclarence himself, with magnificent
gallantry and swordsmanship, killed four of the enemy with his sword,
his men plying their bayonets strenuously the while. This was the
first trench, and as the fight grew hotter, some little memory of
their earlier boasts, inspired the Boers to make a stand. They fought;
they fought well. Their vast superiority in numbers did not enter into
their minds, since Commandant Botha told Lieutenant Moncrieff, who had
charge of the flag party that arranged for an armistice upon the
following morning, that he thought that at least a thousand men had
been moved against his position. The long line of front held by the
enemy flashed fire from many hundred rifles. Houses in the town caught
the bullets, the low rises to the east of the position threw back the
echo of the rifle shots. Our men became the centre of a hail of
bullets. The Boers fired anywhere and everywhere, seeming content if
they could just load their rifles and release the trigger. Many
thousands of rounds of ammunition were expended in the confusion of
the moment, the enemy not even waiting to see at whom, or at what,
they were aiming.

After the first fury had been expended, our men charged at the bayonet
point right across the line of trenches. It was in this charge that
the Boers lost most heavily. So soon as the squadron reached the
extremity of the Boer position they retreated independently, their
movement covered by the flanking fire of the Cape Police, which added
still further to the perplexities of the enemy. The galling fire of
the Cape Police disturbed them for some time longer than was required
in the actual retirement of the force.

The Boers had been completely unnerved by the onslaught of the
Protectorate men, and a feature of the hours which elapsed between the
final withdrawal of our force from the scene of conflict, and the
advent of dawn, was the heavy firing of the enemy, who still continued
discharging useless volleys into space. The loss to us in this
encounter had been 6 killed, 11 wounded, and two of our men taken
prisoners, but the gravity of the loss which the enemy sustained can
be most surely measured by the fact that, until a late hour this
afternoon, they could not find the spirit to resume the bombardment.
It is said in camp here that one hundred Boers will have reason to
remember the charge of the Protectorate Regiment.

The way in which these respond to the duties asked of them is shown by
their conduct during this night attack. Nevertheless, when the
enrolment of the Protectorate Regiment began in August, 1899, any
practical opinion upon the future value of its individual units, as
upon its possible mobility, was the merest hazard. When Colonel Hore
accepted the command of the regiment, and endeavoured, by every means
in his power, to promote its development, there were many who
expressed, after witnessing the preliminary parade of the recruits at
Ramathlabama Camp, the verdict that the short space of time which was
allowed to the officers to knock the squadrons into shape would not
permit the men attaining any proficiency whatsoever. In those early
days of the war volunteers came from near and far, from Johannesburg
upon the one side, from Cape Town, Port Elizabeth, and East London
upon the other, to enlist in the service of her Majesty. Time-expired
men threw up their billets when the opportunity presented itself of
rejoining the colours, and while enlistment was proceeding, the
immediate vicinity of Ramathlabama and the roads from the Transvaal
into Mafeking presented the appearance of a district which has been
made the final destination of some mining rush. Pedestrians from the
Transvaal humping their swags, passengers by train from the south,
well-to-do youngsters from different parts of the Protectorate or from
the back-lying areas of the colony, all made their roads converge upon
Mafeking. At that time, however, when the work of enlisting was in its
infancy, and the services of able-bodied men were much required, the
Colonial Government, at the instigation of Mr. Schreiner, whose
dubious policy was cheerfully endorsed by his colleagues, refused to
allow her Majesty's soldiers, who were in process of enlistment for
that special purpose, to afford Mafeking the moral value of their
presence. No sooner had word reached the ears of the Colonial Cabinet
that the work of recruiting was proceeding around Mafeking, than the
recruiting officers were ordered to withdraw immediately from the
precincts of the colony so long as they continued to act in a way
which might give some possible offence to the dear friend, guardian,
and patron saint of Cape Colony, Paul Kruger. After a very decorous
and manly remonstrance, Colonel Hore withdrew his headquarters and his
men sixteen miles across the border to Ramathlabama Camp, from which
point the enlistment of the Protectorate Regiment was continued.

The Protectorate Regiment is strictly an irregular soldiery, composed
of men drawn from every rank of African life, many of whom are gentle
by birth and education and possessed of no little means. In the ranks
of the regiment there are those who have been at the university and
public schools; there are also mechanics, miners, farm hands, and men
who have known office life. The nationalities of the men are as varied
as their occupations in peace times are diffuse. There are a few
Americans, some Germans, and Norwegians, although for the most part
the regiment is British; as a whole, perhaps, it is an ill-assorted
assembly of adventurers, animated with the same love of fighting and
the glories of war, of lust and bloodshed which characterised the
lives of the buccaneers of old. In other days, and in other lands,
they would be sailing the sea for treasure, or combining in the quest
for gold in some hidden extremity of the world's surface. The prospect
of free rations, of uniform, and allowance of pocket money, was of
course sufficient to draw a few; but, as a body, the idler upon the
farm, the bar-loafer from the town, and the thoroughly incompetent are
as distinguished by their absence, as the general tone of the regiment
is suffused with martial ardour. It is quite impossible to treat these
men with the cast-iron regulations which enthral the Imperial soldier.
He does not understand the petty exactions, the never-ending restraint
which would be imposed upon him had he accepted the conditions which
govern and regulate life in our army. He experiences and gives voice
to a very genuine aversion to fatigues of every description, and it
has required the exercise of much tact and no little personal
persuasion to induce the men to become reconciled to the labours of
their calling. They have accepted with some diffidence the fact that
it is necessary for them to fulfil, at the present moment, many
irritating, but essentially important fatigues which may not have
entered into their original forecast of the duties which would be
allotted to them. They frequently indulge in outbursts of choice
expletives, at the expense of their non-commissioned officers, while
they do not hesitate to correct, or at least to argue about what they
imagine to be wrong in the execution of some order.

The conditions under which these men were enrolled were supposed to
admit those only who could ride as well as shoot, and before the
initial tests were applied the standard of the regiment upon paper was
exceptionally high. After the first parade, however, it was seen that
by far the great majority of the regiment was incapable of managing
their horses. Upon parade, when horses and men were put through
cavalry exercises, detached and riderless steeds would be seen
galloping and bucking in all directions. However, those who were
unproficient did not propose to allow their cattle to hold the mastery
for any longer than was absolutely necessary, and many was the tough
fight fought to a bitter end between the raw recruit and his unbroken,
unmanageable mount. After many days and an inordinate amount of hard
work, the troop officers managed to lick their men into a very
presentable appearance until, with the beginning of the war, the
squadrons of the Protectorate Regiment were as capable and efficient a
body of irregular mounted infantry as any that had been enrolled by
local movement in South Africa. During the siege there has been no
chance to continue those early exercises, and it is not at all
unlikely that when they become mounted once more the former
difficulties will again assert themselves and, bearing this in mind,
it is difficult to conclude that as a fighting force they will not be
more at home upon their feet than in the saddle, since they will find
their attentions occupied as much by the management of their steeds as
with the handling of their weapons.

If they be not quite so mobile in the field as more experienced
troops, there is no doubt that they present a determined front to the
fire of the enemy. They have a keen relish for any preparation which
appears to lead to some immediate collision, while they profess an
equally profound disgust at their enforced inactivity. How these men
might act if, through the smoke-filled air, they saw an array of
sparkling bayonets, or heard the serried ranks of hostile lines
advancing to the charge, it is impossible to say; but in the few
fights which we have had the personal element has been strong, and the
individual courage high. We have lacked the spectacle of the
many-, steel-edged columns impelled forward by the impulse of
some dominant power, with the dusty faces of the men, the stumbling,
sore-stricken feet, the gasping breath of the stragglers who tired,
dead beat, and thirsty, limp to the rear; but the play of human
passion in our little fighting force has not been absent. We have had
the wager of life against life, the angry, turbulent crash of
fierce-blooded men, fighting under the shadow of death, with their
emotions strained as they struggled in the very atmosphere of passion.
And it has done us good to see how reliable the force has been about
which so much doubt existed. Unlike the Imperial service, these
irregular corps act as much for the unit as they do for the mass, as
animated by terror or by valour, by a fatal despair, or by a blooded
triumph, they fight for an individual supremacy. That is the moment
of their triumph, and it is these splendid qualities of savage and
physical animalism which makes it more easy to treat them with a wider
latitude than is usual. Their magnificent hardihood, their splendid
fighting gifts, their lurid blasphemy, their admiration for officers
who are men, their appalling debauchery, gives to them the ideal
setting of the rough but very gallant soldier of fortune, who,
scorning his enemy and hating a retreat, has played so omnipotent a
part in the history of the universe.




CHAPTER XI

CANNON KOPJE


                             MAFEKING, _October 31st, 1899_.

Cannon Kopje is in itself a hideous cluster of stones, perched upon a
rocky ridge, which commands the town, a mile across the veldt. It is
impossible to conceive any more positive death-trap than that which
was contained in this kopje, and whatever may have been the
determining element in its original construction, it is infinitely to
be regretted that the possibilities of its being under shell fire were
never very seriously contemplated. It was thrown up during the Warren
expedition, and much as these things go, was neither removed nor
replaced until Monday's bombardment established its complete
uselessness under shell fire, and the folly of which Colonel
Baden-Powell was guilty in leaving it unprotected. It is too late to
say much now, but we have paid a heavy price for our neglect and
carelessness. We found it here when we came; we put men into it, we
are maintaining men there, and it is essential to the safety of our
town that we should still hold it. Since the action an effort has been
made to improve it; a splinter-proof shelter has been thrown across
the trench, and traverses have been thrown out, but the work of the
past few days has perhaps prepared the kopje for further shelling at
the enemy's convenience. As a _piece de resistance_ in the defence of
Mafeking, Cannon Kopje is the most strategically important position
near Mafeking, and we may reckon that, at the moment when these
wretched shepherds who are besieging us, secure this fort, to Mafeking
itself there remains but a few hours.

Colonel Walford had under his command at the fort forty-four men with
a Maxim detachment from the Protectorate Regiment. The fairest
estimate of the men against him would place the Boer forces at no less
than eight hundred with four guns. Sunday night, the look-out from
Cannon Kopje saw a body of Boers making their way to a point somewhat
nearer the town than had hitherto been their custom, and our
expectations having been aroused by this movement we were inclined to
believe that the enemy might attack upon the following morning. Our
anticipations were further grounded upon the fact that the Boers to
the south-west of the town, had by no means despised the claims of
Cannon Kopje upon their attentions, and to every three shells which
their guns had thrown into the town during the days which the siege
had lasted, one, in a proportion of one in three, had been fired at
Cannon Kopje. It has gradually come to be considered, therefore, that
Cannon Kopje was a point against which the Boers would, sooner or
later, direct an attack, since its capture was necessary to the
successful execution of any general movement against the town.

[Illustration: Cannon Kopje.]

The detachment of Police, who formed the garrison at Cannon Kopje,
upon this day performed a most brilliant service for the town by
their determined and gallant stand. Perhaps in war more than in
anything else, chance is a greater arbiter than we like to consider,
and if it had not been for the chance attack against Cannon Kopje,
which resulted in the defeat of the Boer forces, it is not improbable
that Mafeking itself would have been invaded by the enemy. The
subjugation of this point, in reality the turning point in the siege,
was, however, of vital concern to Commandant Cronje, since it had been
his intention to bombard the south-east portion of the town, and to
carry it with a large force which he had assembled during the night in
the adjacent valley of the Molopo River. When day had dawned, the
look-out from Cannon Kopje had already reported to Colonel Walford
that there was unusual activity in the Boer camp; at the moment this
was stirring news, and indeed the fatigues for the night had been
barely dismissed when an experimental shell from the Boer artillery to
test the range, opened the action. During the night, and about the
close of Sunday, the enemy's artillery had taken up their position,
and as the grey of dawn ushered in the fatal day, a large force of
Boers moved out from their laager and occupied any point by which they
might command the area of the fort. It seemed to me, as I witnessed
their disposition, that at least a third of the forces before Mafeking
had been concentrated upon Cannon Kopje, and if so great a tragedy had
not attended the action, we could have afforded to laugh at the
efforts of an enemy so hopelessly incompetent as the Boer force has
proved itself to be. Against a mere gun emplacement and forty-four
men, shell fire from four guns was directed, and the services of eight
hundred men utilised. In the extreme west there was "Big Ben" and a
seven-pounder; in the extreme east there was a twelve-pounder. Within
a circle from these two points, and within effective range, a
seven-pounder and quick-firing Maxim-Nordenfeldt had been stationed.
The big gun took no part at all in this attack upon the kopje, but at
every moment that the enemy's shell fire lapsed, the Boer marksmen
opened with their Mauser rifles. Their rifle fire stretched from the
extremities of either flank and enfiladed the interior trenches of the
kopje. Nothing perhaps in the history of their operations along this
frontier, was so calculated to prove successful as the Boer attack
upon Cannon Kopje. They had the guns, the men, and they held all
commanding points, while they themselves were snugly ensconced behind
cover almost impervious to shell fire. With these advantages it would
seem morally impossible that forty-four men could withstand the
unceasing stream of shells, the mist of bullets, which comprised the
zone of fire of which the kopje was the centre. Had these men wavered,
such a thing is easy to explain; had they fallen back upon the town,
their movement would have been in order. But by preference they
stopped at their posts, the mark for every Boer rifle, the objective
of the enemy's shell fire, until so great had been our execution upon
the enemy that the Boers themselves proclaimed an armistice under the
protection of the Red Cross flag. When this was decreed one-fourth of
the detachment in the kopje were out of action, and eight of these
were killed. But the lamentable list of fatalities had been piled up
only at great cost to the enemy, since around the circle of the fort,
and not four hundred yards away, we could see the Boer ambulances
picking up their dead and wounded. It has been stated that they lost
one hundred men, and that a further fifty were seriously wounded, but
this is preposterous; while if we err at all towards our foe it is in
the computation of the losses which we claim to have inflicted upon
them. It is almost impossible to kill a Dutchman on the field, since
they are as pertinacious and industrious as beetles in seeking cover.
We saw two waggon loads pass from their firing-line to their laager,
but I am inclined to doubt if we killed and wounded forty of the
enemy. To have scored that number in the face of the most remarkable
fusilade of bullet and shell which was directed against the fort is a
wonderful feat, since it should not be forgotten that to every shot
which we fired, there were at least four hundred barrels emptied at
our marksmen in return. Such was the unfortunate construction of
Cannon Kopje, however, and the gross neglect with which it has been
treated to prepare for the present war, that it was not possible for
our men to use their loopholes, and as it was most necessary to hold
the fort each man who fired stood to his feet, and exposed himself
above the breastwork to the full force of the Boer rifles. The enemy
had carried out their movement so well, that under cover of their
guns, and the great annoyance of their enfilading fire, they had made
it almost impossible for the defenders of the fort to pay much
attention to their advance. They compelled men to take cover, since if
anything were seen to move behind the parapet of the fort, the Boers
swept the area of the position with most cruel and deadly volleys. But
cover was sought only at intervals, and when the hail of shells became
too tempestuous, since the brave little garrison were impressed with a
courage which scorned the fire which was turned upon them. When they
manned the defences and maintained a sturdy front the Boers were
nonplussed. They had expected to carry the position whereas they were
losing men more rapidly than they were killing them. We fired by six,
we fired independently, and whenever it was possible, the Maxim swept
the front of the enemy, but, relatively speaking, nothing could
prevail against the Boer numbers. It was easy enough to hold them in
check, since the first well-directed volley made them fall back some
few yards, but the heavy shell fire would sooner or later have told
its tale. It had already claimed the majority of those who were hit,
since if the shells did not burst and strike some one of those who
were lying near, they splintered upon the stones which composed the
defences of the fort and these splintered in their turn, coming into
contact with any one who was crouching behind them for shelter. Cannon
Kopje in itself was a terrible lesson; but it was also a magnificent
example of gallant conduct in the field. Captain the Hon. D. Marsham
who was killed, and Captain Charles Alexander Kerr Pechell, who died
in the course of the morning from wounds received, were individually
setting as fine an object lesson to their men as could be conceived,
yet it must not be imagined that the standard of their bravery was
much finer or much greater than that of their comrades. Colonel
Walford and Colonel Baden-Powell have each expressed their high
appreciation of the conduct of the men who survived the attack, and
although, as befits their rank, the example of the officers was
admirable, it was no better in reality than the action of the men over
whom they were commanding. Captain Marsham was struck by a rifle
bullet in turning to render some assistance to a wounded comrade. As
he attempted to do this a second bullet passed through his chest, and
a moment later he was dead, just as a third bullet passed through his
shoulder. It was as fine a death as any soldier could perhaps have
chosen, and it had the crowning mercy of being instantaneous.

Captain Pechell was busying himself in directing the rifle fire from
the fort, and thereby directly drew the attention of the enemy. He,
with a detachment of six men, ranged up from time to time, and picked
off the enemy with well-aimed volleys. They had taken up their
position behind the eastern wing of the kopje, engaging a body of the
enemy whose flank fire enfiladed our position. The first shell which
came at these six men fell short, and the second and the third
bursting in the same place, scattered the outer covering of the
breastwork. Pechell ordered his men to retire from the direct line of
shell fire, when just as they were shifting their position a shell
struck the stone parapet, and burst among them. Private Burrows was
killed at once, just as he had been admiring the shooting of a
comrade. Sergeant-Major Upton and Captain Pechell received some
terrible injuries; poor Pechell died of injury extending from the
thigh to the shoulder. No one regrets, so much as his comrades,
Captain Pechell's gallant act, since had he not been endowed with most
magnificent courage he would have preserved discretion in the method
by which he exposed himself to the enemy, and by the death of these
two officers, Captain Marsham and Captain Pechell, her Majesty loses
two officers of exceptional promise and soldierly qualifications.

The casualties of this action alone were eight killed and three
wounded, four being killed upon the spot, four dying of their wounds
within twelve hours of the action. Captain Marsham, Sergeant-Major
Curnihan, Private Burrows, and Private Martin were killed in the fort;
Captain Pechell, Sergeant-Major Upton, Private Nicholas and Private
Lloyd died of wounds; Sergeant-Major Butler, Corporal Cooke and
Private Newton were wounded.

That night the garrison paid its farewell duties to those gallant men
who were killed at Cannon Kopje. Their interment took place at six
o'clock, and as we followed in the wake of the _cortege_ we felt the
shock which brought home to each of us the bitter fact that we should
henceforth know them no more. The attack of the Boers upon Cannon
Kopje had been so sudden, so utterly unexpected, and the manner in
which these men of the British South Africa Police had met their
death, had been so valorous that the sympathies of the entire town had
been most keenly aroused and overcome by the appalling swiftness of
the tragedy; there was no one who did not feel that in some way he was
himself a mourner even though the men who had been killed were quite
indifferent to him. Doubtless before the siege terminates we shall
become accustomed to our situation, and realise that after all it is
but the natural issue to a condition of belligerency that no one can
quite tell what sorrow the day will bring forth. But at present these
tragedies come upon us with a vivid freshness which is almost
unnerving and which stimulate disquietening fancies in the minds even
of the most callous.

The cemetery here is in close proximity to the Boer lines, and lies to
the north of the town. It is a small enclosure banked by white rough
stones, and set amid green trees, where gentle fragrance imparts a
balminess to the breeze. It is as quiet and peaceful, by force of
contrast to the dried-up veldt around, as some oasis in the desert.
There is a winding path from the hospital to the cemetery; a road
which at the present moment is flanked in two places by the forts of
the Railway Division, and kept well defined by the footsteps of those
who bear their burdens to the tomb. Since the siege began we have lost
twenty-five, and with one engagement following rapidly upon another,
nightfall usually ushers in a scene in which a small body of men may
be seen gathered round an open grave, waiting irresolutely to take
some share in the rites of the burial service. We paced slowly and
solemnly along this veldt track, depressed not so much by the fate
which had befallen them, as by the hideous realism with which the
appalling uncertainty of war had been brought home to us. In the
darkness of the evening we could see across the veldt the fires of the
enemy's position, and as the _cortege_ wound its way from the hospital
we marched to the boom of the Boer artillery, while passing bullets
sang the notes of our evening hymn above our heads, and dropped about
us in the sand. Along the eastern front of the town as it lay behind
us, an occasional blaze of light in the sky told us where the shells
of the enemy were bursting, and to many came the thought that perhaps
even of those who had remained to do their duty in the trenches, there
were some who, less fortunate than others, might have already kept
their last vigils. In time we reached the grave side, then as we
gathered round the open spaces which had been so quickly prepared,
those who felt their loss the keenest, those who had been comrades and
close friends of the killed, paid their last homage to their memory
by placing some little trinket, some slight token of personal
friendship and affection, upon the winding sheet. At this juncture,
when war is all around us, when every able-bodied man is standing to
his arms, it is not possible to provide the dead with anything better
than a simple sheet. The men who fall in these days are interred in
their blood-stained uniforms, since there be no time in which to dress
their bodies. Those upon whom the funeral service was about to be read
lay in two waggons, silent shrouded witnesses to the fleeting vanity
which attends all heroes. Around the entrance to the cemetery the
officers of the staff, the commanding officers of the outposts,
representatives of every corps and every troop had foregathered,
following closely upon the heels of those who, bearing the grim
burdens upon their shoulders epitomised in their action the horrors of
war. It seemed as we stood there waiting, listening to the solemn
words of the service, punctuated now and then as they were, by the
screams of shells, by the angry snap of the Mauser, and the droning of
the Martini bullets, that these men who were now dead had achieved the
full honour of their calling. Indeed, many were there who would have
given gladly their own lives in exchange for that of their friend,
while there was not one who did not feel that the manner in which
their end had come to them was impressed with all that was most noble.

For a moment after the service had concluded, we stood listening to
the strains of the Last Call. As its solemn notes died away, and we
retraced our steps to the various trenches and earthworks which, for
the moment, gave us shelter, we little imagined that within a few
hours, those of us who were correspondents would follow the body of
one from amongst ourselves once more upon this road. The following
night Lieutenant Murchison, who was in charge of the guns, wilfully
shot with his revolver Mr. E. G. Parslow, war correspondent of the
London _Daily Chronicle_. The horror of such a crime still hangs over
us, and is not in any way diminished by the fact that an officer who
had already distinguished himself by his career, should now be
awaiting the verdict of a Field Court Martial upon the gravest charge
in the criminal calendar. Poor Parslow had endeared himself to
everybody by the genial sympathy which he extended to those who were
themselves in trouble. He had won the admiration of many by the
calmness with which he conducted himself under the heaviest fire.




CHAPTER XII

A RECONNAISSANCE


                             MAFEKING, _November 7th, 1899_.

A short canter from Mafeking across the sloping expanse of the veldt
and the interior lines of its western defences lie before one. It can
be said that Cannon Kopje to the south-west and Fort Miller to the
north-west are the two most outlying extremities of the outposts on
this front. Between them there is an almost unbroken chain of
earthworks, manned by detachments from squadrons of the Protectorate
Regiment, from the British South Africa Police, from the Cape Police,
and even from the Native stadt. These men live the lives of soldiers
whose every moment is engaged in watching a foe that might at any
opportunity which is given them charge down upon our lines. Unlike the
Boers, we do not despise the native interests, and much of the
weakness of our position emanates from the fact that we have
incorporated within the mystic circle of our armed defence the most
outlying areas of the native reserve. These, indeed, can very properly
be considered the exterior lines of the western outposts. It would
have been a very simple thing for Colonel Baden-Powell to have
ordered the destruction of the Native stadt, compelling its
inhabitants to seek what protection they could from the inclemency of
the elements, from a benign Providence, and the rapacious Boer.
Mafeking, without the Native stadt, could have been much more easily
defended, since the base of the <DW72>s, across which our advanced
trenches now extend, would have been defended from the ridges of the
acclivities which rise from them. This would have given to the
advanced outposts some commanding heights from which the western
plains could have been more easily swept. As it is, however, the
policy which Colonel Baden-Powell is adopting towards the native
tribe, whose huts were here many generations before white men ever set
their feet in this part of the country, is one which extends to them
the same Imperial protection as he has extended to the colonists in
Mafeking. Where the Native stadt had been included in any portion of
the defences, the Baralongs have been assisted to defend, and have
been instructed in the means by which they might secure immunity for
themselves and for their stadt.

The entrenchments of the Boers rise like mole-hills from the surface
of the plain, although there is a curious regard for what has been
humorously termed "three mile limit." The valley of the Molopo River
sets a background to the Boer position, the placid waters of the
stream wind through their lines, while their chief laagers have been
constructed upon the ridges of its watershed. From Cannon Kopje a
commanding view of the whole country on all sides of Mafeking may be
obtained, the Boer laagers giving to the expanses of the valley the
aspect of a mining camp. From different points of observation the
daily life of the enemy can be noted. In the early morning the smoke
of many fires swings in thin spirals to the sky, and the silence of
the plain is broken by the echoes which echo back the noises of the
camp. It would seem that they are as regular in the ordering of their
camp life as we are. When the sun has warmed the air, and evaporated
the morning dew from the grass, we can see them out-pinning their
horses, driving their cattle to fresh pastures, and endeavouring by
the establishment of sentries and Cossack posts to take the siege of
Mafeking as a very serious element in their lives. Everywhere there is
the green of early summer covering the plain with the sheen of
Nature's youth. Between the lines of the two camps graze herds of
cattle, in themselves affording tempting bait to the predatory
instincts of the Boers, who, if they did not lack the courage of their
desires, would have already attempted to raid the browsing oxen. So
far as our own outposts are concerned, along this line there are many
days in which nothing whatever happens, just as there are others in
which the dawn of day is made hideous by the scream of shells, the
singing of the Mauser, the angry rustle of the Nordenfeldt and Maxim.
The Boers have many guns along this side, and from time to time they
treat us to bombardments, lacking both purpose and any definite
result, beyond the expenditure of much ammunition. When the shells are
falling every one who can seeks cover, watching with some impatience
their passing, and could we in these moments but give existence to our
wishes, it would be that opportunity might come at once to turn the
tables upon our enemy. It is neither very honourable nor very pleasing
to have to preserve discretion as the better part of valour, but,
while we remain the objective of their fire, our pent-up energies are
developing a fine hatred against the foe. Colonel Baden-Powell has
some hope of giving indulgence to the spirit which animates his men,
and, even if the moment be somewhat uncertain, no small contentment is
derived from such belief. Morning and night we gird our loins for the
attack, but night and morning we awaken to a sense of infinite
disappointment, yet when it comes they may expect an avalanche, and,
in result, an overthrow.

Day is dreary, sun-swept, dusty, teased with insects, and infinitely
wearisome, but with the coming of night, the fragrant coolness of the
air, the soft lisping of the evening breeze bringeth contentment. Each
evening, when the peace of the camp be settled and the men resting,
there is always an outpost standing within a few hundred yards of the
Boer camp. If the night be fine, he lies behind the stones of a
neighbouring kopje; but whether it be fine or wet, the guard is
posted; the safety of the camp depending upon his vigilance. Sometimes
he is relieved hourly, sometimes his watch is of four hours' duration.
It depends upon the proximity of his post to the enemy's lines, but,
lying there within earshot of the Boers, it is just possible to
realise the full gravity of our situation. The element of danger is
greater in these nocturnal hours, and men go to rest, their spirits
buoyed up with the infinite zest which comes from anticipating a night
attack. They sleep beside their arms, their posts are doubled, and the
officers of the watch make hourly rounds. In the distance, across the
plain and enveloped with the darkness of the veldt, the difficulty of
seeing intensified by shadows, the outline of the Boer laagers can be
demarcated. Their camp fires die down one by one, and presently,
beyond the restless moving of their cattle, no sign of life animates
their position. It is in such moments that those who lead us deplore
the paucity of the numbers under their command, since, were it
possible to spare the men, there have been several occasions, when a
midnight dash, after the fashion of Captain Fitzclarence, or the
repetition of the reconnaissance at daybreak such as Major Godley so
gallantly led, could have been organised with equally satisfactory
results.

[Illustration: Major A. J. Godley of the Western Outposts on the
Look-out.]

However, within the last few days, Colonel Baden-Powell has taken
advantage of the enemy's position upon this front to order the western
outposts to spend some few hours in worrying the enemy. It was a very
pleasant little outing for us, and eminently beneficial, since the
excitement attendant upon such a manoeuvre was as wholesome as a
bumper of champagne. Word had already reached me of this contemplated
move upon the enemy, and Lieutenant Paton, of C Squadron, was good
enough to offer the hospitality of his hut for the night in question.
We dined, not with the guilty splendour of the Trocadero or amid the
sombre magnificence of Prince's, but in the rough-and-ready fashion
which falls to those who, carrying their lives in their hands, have at
most but a moment to spare for such unimportant incidents as breakfast
and dinner. As a humble offering to the board I had drawn from the
Army Service Stores a tin of canned mutton, and procured
somewhere--which may or may not have been a private garden--a luscious
marrow, and with these I hied myself to Lieutenant Paton's quarters.
Along this western front there are many delightful and very genial
officers. There is Major Godley, who is in command of the whole line;
Colonel Walford, who commands Cannon Kopje; there are Captain
Vernon and Captain Marsh, who, with Major Godley, are Imperial special
service men; Lieutenant Holden and my host. The distances between
their quarters are but slight, and perhaps the most entertaining
moment in the siege is that which enables us to foregather at Major
Godley's, chatting with eagerness and charming frankness upon the
possibilities of the war as they are suggested by our immediate
environment. By the time that I had arrived Lieutenant Paton's boy had
prepared a savoury stew, and such was the scarcity of fresh meat that
we had no hesitation in dedicating the canned mutton to some other
meal. We ate, and pleasantly indulged in lime juice and water, smoking
with contented elegance some choice cigarettes. After we had dined a
short conference was held at Major Godley's, and then to rest,
perchance to spend the night in sleeping, or perchance, to scratch;
for fleas and flies, the parasitic mosquito and the insidious ant,
make both day and night a source of irritation.

The men of C Squadron under Captain Vernon, the Bechuanaland Rifles
under Captain Cowan, and three guns under Major Panzera and Lieutenant
Daniels, of the British South Africa Police, were engaged in the
movement, and distinguished themselves in what they did as well as can
be expected. At a quarter to two we turned out. Greatcoats had been
left behind, men slinging their waterbottles and bandoliers upon their
shoulders. We were to meet at the base of a hill rising a few hundred
yards across the veldt from Major Godley's. Night hung heavily upon
us, the sky was dark, and everything seemed to point to the wisdom of
choosing such a night. We stepped out briskly, although to our
strained nerves the soft tread of the men sounded as the rumble of a
juggernaut. However, we proceeded very quietly, and the sheen of sand,
the white lustre of the road, the rustle of the thorn bushes were
presently left behind as we took our stand in the rear of Major
Godley's troop. In the valley at the base of the hill we halted.
Before us, a scarcely perceptible rise silhouetted against the sky,
the bushes lining the summit throwing themselves into prominence
against the grey, black, background, while here and there trees tossed
their arms silently and warningly in the breeze. All around us there
was the hum of insect life, that monotonous dead level buzz of
countless insects and the baying of the bull frogs. And we waited,
when out of the darkness came Major Godley, a tall, thin figure
impressed with energy and determination, inspecting the lines.

The squadron was dismounted, and had fallen in by troops, the dull
khaki of the Protectorate Regiment scarcely showing up against the
grey-blackness of the night; and at either end of the line there was a
squad of Bechuanaland Rifles and a contingent of natives. As they
stood there, there were nearly one hundred men, and, though the order
had been given to be in this position at 2.30, and the hour had come,
we were waiting for the guns. Presently, as we waited, barely a mile
from the Boer laager, there was the rumble of artillery in the
distance. As we heard it officers and men believed that at any moment
the Boer camp would sound the alarm. We could hear the guns rising
over hillocks, falling heavily upon stones, or crushing back upon some
boulder. Indeed there was noise enough to wake the dead themselves.
The rattle of the limber was only a little more acute than the tension
on our nerves. Men swore silently at the guns and showed their
restlessness as the noise grew louder. In a little the Major bustled
up all eagerness and fluff and worry, and then as the guns trailed
behind us and the little column moved on, it seemed that every step we
advanced further would have brought the Boers tumbling about our ears.
Much as one creeps about a house at night treading on every board
which creaks in preference to those which do not creak, so was the
march of the column. As the guns came on they seemed to find stones
everywhere. Wheels fell into snug hollows, jammed in ragged holes, and
bumped with such heaviness that the night was made hideous by the echo
of their rumble. Occasionally we stopped, as though to allow the peace
of night to settle. Then we moved forward once again and in a little
we halted for the final stage. The guns took up their position to the
left of the column, the hundred men lying in extended order across the
veldt. Before us there was the ridge of rising veldt and scrub, and so
we rested, fretting with curious impatience at the signs of life which
began to animate the enemy's camp. When we stood up we could see the
dull white of their waggons bent in position for their laager; we
could see the fires within, we could hear in the still silence of
early dawn the chopping of wood as the axe fell upon the logs. The
sides of the valley threw back the noise until, echoes echoing back,
the sound caught our ears, and so we watched and waited until
gradually dawn came.

The dull-black beauty of the night passed, slipping into grey and
leaving the uncertain mystery of an early morning sky. A red streak
across the east threw glimpses of light into the canopy of heaven,
when, as a signal of its birth, there came the words to fire; then
the line of creeping figures which had gained the ridge pressed their
rifles through the scrub and bush which hedged the top, and, crouching
to the ground, opened the reconnaissance. The objective of the night
attack which Major Godley was commanding had been to effect a
reconnaissance in force against the western laagers of the Boers. In
respect to the constant increase of the force that surrounds Mafeking,
almost the one means of temporarily checking their advance which
remains to us is through the medium of these attacks. Information had
been brought into headquarters that the Boers were massing upon the
east side of the town, the small laager on the west being temporarily
evacuated. The night dash would both surprise and annoy the enemy, and
anything which combined such benign ends was very welcome. The guns
were to throw a few shells, the men were to fire a few volleys; when
the squadron would fall back by troops their reconnaissance completed.
We opened by volleys poured incontinently into their camp, but so soon
as the guns had discharged the first shells into the laager, the
little signs of order which had animated the natives disappeared, and
although they maintained their line they began an independent
practice. It was the first time that native arms had been incorporated
with our men, and it is to be hoped, before the next experiment is
repeated, they will have been got more under control. Excellent as
they may be on their own account, they are almost altogether useless
when removed from the immediate spheres of utility. Our fire at first
was high, and many rounds of bullet and shell fire were absolutely
wasted. Presently Daniels secured the range for the guns, and shells,
prettily planted, ruined many waggons. The sortie, so far as we were
concerned, proceeded merrily, doing no material damage, but making a
hell of a lot of noise. The glories of the early morning were soon
enveloped in the heavy smoke from the rifles of the natives, who still
continued blazing independently and indifferently at the enemy's
position and who also generally struck the earth a few yards short of
their own front of fire. The opportunity which was thus afforded of
both surprising and annoying the enemy was very welcome, and the night
dash was entered into with infinite zest. So soon as the guns had
discharged their first shell our men began to fire by volleys, but the
sortie had not progressed very far when the activity in the Boer lines
showed that they were preparing to repel a force much larger than the
mere reconnoitering party which was actually before them. In the
uncertain light of rising morn a body of 600 Boers could be seen
riding from the main laager upon the western front to the support of
the minor camp. We have hitherto thought the Boers timid at close
quarters, but in this case there was every sign of haste and eagerness
on the part of the reinforcements to arrive upon the scene of action.
We could see them dismounting as they came up and run to the laager,
some of them firing as they ran, others of them forming into detached
parties and firing from isolated positions. After volleying for some
minutes our men fulfilled the object of their morning excursion and
were preparing to retire by troops, when, owing to the presence of the
reinforcements, firing became general. Our rifles replied to their
rifles, our two seven-pounders replied to their guns, but beyond this
nothing was permitted to interfere with the successful completion of
our work. It mattered very little to us how fiercely the enemy's
Nordenfeldts spat out defiance or what their rifles said, for we fell
back steadily, the different troops doubling fifty, one hundred, and
one hundred and fifty yards each time. The fire as the various troops
took up the retirement became very hot, the enemy cheerfully Mausering
into space. For some hours after our men had gained the security of
their own trenches the enemy maintained a heavy fire upon the several
outposts along the western front. During the retirement of C Squadron
Major Godley had ordered Captain Cowan to occupy Fort Eyre, a rifle
trench, with a detachment of Bechuanaland Mounted Rifles, so that he
might check any signs of advance which the enemy might display. In
consequence of this, Major Godley, Captain Cowan, Lieutenant Feltham,
and their men experienced as severe a fire as any which has, at
present, been received from the Boers. The enemy made a determined
rifle attack upon the work, but lacking the courage to charge, after
some few hours' rifle firing, they withdrew.

These little encounters are all that the outposts have with which to
pass their time, and the success with which they have been conducted
has been sufficient to check the enemy, and to cause him to reflect
upon the relative value of the means at our command. The defence of
the western front lies wholly in the hands of men from the
Protectorate Regiment and a few native contingents. The Town Guard is
not _en evidence_ upon the west side, the area of their exertions
being confined to the more immediate precincts of the town. And by
this it does not seem that the Town Guard will have much opportunity
to distinguish itself, since, unless its members volunteer to take
part in any sniping expedition, those manning the interior line of our
trenches, which are those occupied by the Town Guard, have received
positive orders to withhold their fire until the enemy is upon the
point of rushing the town. Several times it has been thought that this
was going to happen, and the local defensive force had hopes of
justifying its existence, but hitherto the valour which underlies the
good intentions of the Boers is not sufficient to inspire them to
convert an excellent suggestion into a practical experiment. Thus
despite the Boer telegrams to Europe there has been no battle round
Mafeking; a few slight skirmishes upon our part, much proud boasting
upon the part of the Boers is the limit of mutual operations which
have centred around Mafeking. We are waiting, and in the interval,
preparing. That is all which can be said.




CHAPTER XIII

THE TOWN GUARD


                            MAFEKING, _November 15th, 1899_.

The straits of a beleaguered city are only just beginning to come to
Mafeking. A retrospect of the history of the Franco-Prussian war
reveals how very great were the sufferings of those unfortunate people
who were unlucky enough to be besieged by the Prussian armies. Their
difficulties, the dangers to which they were constantly subjected,
their constant struggle against the extortionate demands of the few
who had been able to "corner" the provisions can perhaps be taken as
conveying a general impression of the hardships of a siege. Yet,
however, when we come to consider the siege of Mafeking in its more
elemental details, the picture is not unlike those presented by the
farcical melodrama. It is now nearly six weeks since Mafeking was
proclaimed as being in a state of siege, and, although there has been
no single opportunity of any commercial reciprocity between ourselves
and the outside world, the ruling prices are at present but very
little above normal, distress is wholly absent, danger is purely
incidental, and, indeed, it would seem, as Colonel Baden-Powell said
in a recent order, that "everything in the garden was lovely." This
somewhat happy state of things is, of course, to be attributed to the
extraordinary foresight and sagacity which characterises the
arrangements that the well-known firm of contractors in South Africa,
Julius Weil, concluded for provisioning the town. Immense stocks of
foodstuffs had been stored in the town before the war, and it is the
knowledge of the valuable stores which are lying here which has
inspired the Boers to court us so assiduously. The tale might have
been different had the Colonial Government been permitted to arrange
for any such emergency as a siege. In this respect, so completely
opposed to any preparation were Mr. Schreiner and his Cabinet, that it
was not even possible to procure through such an agency any adequate
means of defence, much less to obtain the essential food supplies.
When Kimberley appealed to Mr. Schreiner for permission to send up
from Port Elizabeth some Maxims which had been ordered by the De Beers
Company, the licence was refused on the ground that there was no cause
to strengthen the defences of that town, nor any reason to believe
that the situation demanded such precautions. The Colonial Government
repeated their policy in relation to Mafeking, and when urgent appeals
were sent to Mr. Schreiner, to the Castle authorities, and to Sir
Alfred Milner, the influence of the Cabinet was such that no notice
was taken of their request.

Nothing perhaps can excuse such an obstructive policy as that which
was followed by the Colonial Government upon the very eve of
hostilities. It is only when we come to deal with the situation which
their neglect has created that we can adequately measure the full
extent of their culpability. The claim of so important a centre as
Mafeking upon their attention was wilfully ignored with a persistence
which is positively criminal, and when taken into consideration with
the repeated warnings which were sent to them by leading members of
the community of Mafeking it is difficult to believe that the Colonial
Cabinet, by so flatly contravening the spirit of their loyalty to the
Imperial Crown, were not directly conniving with a hostile oligarchy
for the downfall of this colonial town. Had Mafeking been anything but
Anglo-Saxon at heart, had it possessed that proportion of debased
Dutch and renegade British colonists which is to be found in Vryburg
and those other hostile areas in our own colony, the story of Mafeking
would have been a story of treachery and deceit, of broken allegiance,
and of palsied faith. As it was, when the petition for extra armaments
was ignored, the town, disdaining the danger which confronted them,
proceeded to stand their ground, and to show, at any rate, a firm
front to any enemy that might assail them. While Colonel Baden-Powell
organised the defences of the Western Border, the men of Mafeking,
under the supervision of Colonel Vyvyen, base commandant, strongly
entrenched the position of their town, which hitherto had been open to
every corner of the earth. In times of peace Mafeking is a collection
of buildings placed upon the veldt, lacking both natural and
artificial protection, the centre into which all roads come and from
which all classes of people go. It is a thriving mid-African township
which, more by good management than by good luck, has become at the
present time an important outpost of our Empire. In these days, when
the boom of cannon destroys the silences of our splendid isolation,
and the scream of shell disturbs the harmony of night, Mafeking rests
with patient steadfastness behind its hastily improvised earthworks,
seeking shelter when the shells of the enemy press too hotly upon one
another, yet always ready for work at the outposts, prepared for the
fitful turbulence of our invading foe. Possibly from the Boer trenches
Mafeking may look an armoured citadel. Possibly it is the sturdy
appearance of our ramparts which have caused the Boers to bring their
heavy artillery to bear upon our mud brick walls. Yet there is humour
in this situation, since the gravity of our position accentuates the
grim travesty of our defences. We have not so much as appears, and it
would be unfair to give such a moment as the present the correct
estimate of dummy camps which have been built, dummy earthworks which
have been thrown up, of dummy guns which are in position. The
situation between the Boers and ourselves may be likened to a game of
poker, Mafeking possessing no hand, yet retains the privilege of
bluffing. In the end it will be seen that the dignity of our impudence
has swept the board, although we may be excused from wishing to renew
the game. But there is perhaps a finer spirit in the tribute which
this place has paid to Queen and country than mere courage. We have
the faith of our affections, the steadfastness of a duty which, if
inspired, is equally impressed with reverence. Such strain as the
siege has put upon the loyalty of the colonists of Mafeking has been
welcomed by reason of the opportunity which it has given for the many
who have never seen the Queen to show, their honourable allegiance to
her Majesty.

From time to time Colonel Baden-Powell has issued orders
congratulating the townspeople upon their spirit, and commiserating
with them upon their unfortunate predicament. They are indeed
deserving of great sympathy, since the manly way in which they have
come forward in support of the situation has very materially aided the
successful resistance given by Mafeking. The forts upon the eastern
facing of the town are manned altogether by the Town Guard; these are
particularly warlike when beneath the protection of their bomb-proof
shelters, and it would be almost a pity should the siege close without
any opportunity arising of testing their efficiency. Throughout day
and night they are compelled to remain idle in their trenches, and
from 9 till 6, and again from 6 till 9, they are not permitted upon
any pretence whatever to leave their posts. The life they are leading
is of the roughest description, and it certainly appears that by far
the greatest proportion of the hardships of the siege has fallen to
the share of the Town Guard. At the beginning of the siege, when,
according to official reports, there was no ground to believe that it
would be of long duration, few people were animated by anything but
the plain determination to enjoy any actual hostilities which might
eventuate. Now, however, as the fifth week of the siege draws to an
end the rigours of the confinement to which the townspeople have been
subjected are beginning to tell. The work, the most laborious, the
least interesting, and totally without compensation, is that performed
by the Town Guard, and as a body this defence force presents strangely
contrasting features as the siege progresses. Their hours are early
and late, they stand to arms at 4.30 in the early morning, and at
intervals during the day the full strength of the fort is mustered.
There is nothing with which these men can occupy their minds, and if
their inactivity is beginning to irritate them, if the poorness of
their food is affecting them, it is to be hoped that the work which
they are doing now will receive full and satisfactory acknowledgment,
both at the hands of the staff, and of the Government. As a body, the
Town Guard is a medley of local salamanders, and if it be possible, by
the force of their surroundings, they should become inspired with
soldierly instincts, and although after their fashion they may be
expected to fight, their greatest wish at the present moment is to
obtain from the Government, imperial, colonial, and military, some
adequate explanation of the causes determining their present
situation. They feel that they have been neglected by Mr. Schreiner
and I am quite certain that if that political chameleon were here now,
he would suffer as much by reason of his own sins, as for the trouble
and worry he has caused the industrious, if benighted, citizens of
Mafeking. For the most part the Town Guard is a collection of
civilians, who are accustomed to the full enjoyment of comparative
affluence, and who, through the exigencies of the siege, are at
present living under conditions which would test the endurance of the
most experienced soldier. They are penned up within the limits of
Mafeking, unable to move with any degree of safety, and condemned to
an inactivity which is very irksome to those who have been pressed as
volunteers into the defences of the town. They did not expect, in the
early days of the crisis, to be actively engaged in defending their
town, since, with some hope of having their views adopted, they
repeatedly urged upon the general staff the fallacies which
distinguished the official forecast of the situation, but the staff
was incredulous and Colonel Baden-Powell was impressed with an
optimism which now seems strangely at fault. If one is to believe
important respected members of the community here, it would seem that
they made special and very urgent overtures to the colonel commanding
upon the defenceless condition of Mafeking, and now, as they stand to
their posts, throughout the heat of an African summer, beneath the
deluges of the rainy season, they cull but little satisfaction from
the Ministerial refusal adequately to protect their town by sending
troops and armaments to it. They say that they were derided, that no
notice was taken of their request, that their petition was overruled,
leaving to them the work of warding off from the town such a day of
bitterness, of exceeding danger, of very genuine disaster, as might
have been expected to result from the unprotected condition of the
place. The irregular soldiers of the Protectorate Regiment do not,
perhaps, deserve so much commiseration, since in all probability their
present circumstances are little worse than those which they
anticipated when they were enlisting. But there is some force in the
case which the inhabitants of Mafeking can bring against the Colonial
Government, and it is to be hoped that the work which they are now
doing will receive full and satisfactory compensation at the final
adjustment. But there exists little possibility that they will be
given any compensation which will be in any way commensurate, since to
those who have followed the history of such Ministerial compensation
as comes within the region of political economy it will be known that
the accidents of war put a somewhat close limit upon the accidence of
compensation. Their businesses have in many cases been absolutely
ruined, those who were farmers upon the outskirts of the town have had
the melancholy satisfaction of seeing their homesteads set fire to by
the enemy and their cattle raided. These facts are the simple home
truths that do not tend to make them appreciative of the honour and
glory which falls to them by playing so prominent a _role_ in the
defence of their town. They expect, however, to receive medals. Those
who were local merchants, men of peace for the most part, with no very
keen enthusiasm for martial glory, have seen the industry of a
lifetime completely wrecked by the diffidence of the general staff and
the unwillingness of the Government to take such precautions as would
have placed the town beyond the probability of attack; but, although
every one recognises the worthlessness of the material which was
placed at the disposal of Colonel Baden-Powell, there exists no reason
which can defend the absence of efficient military stores in the town.
Upon the termination of the war let us hope that Colonel Baden-Powell
will be asked to explain, but for the present the townspeople of
Mafeking are singularly unanimous in their desire to co-operate with
the military authorities.

Under their direction the Boers have been repulsed for seven weeks,
just as without the walls of Mafeking an almost impregnable defence
has been constructed. It is perhaps a detail if our defenders be armed
with Sniders, Enfields, a few Martinis, and a still less number of
Lee-Metfords. Moreover, we have none too much ammunition, our
seven-pounders are incapable of sustaining the brunt of an action
without being sent to the repairing shop upon its termination, and if
our Maxims be beyond reproach, our Hotchkiss and Nordenfeldt are both
obsolete and unreliable. These are the more material elements of our
defences, and to them may be added the strength of the Protectorate
Regiment, Cape Police, British South Africa Police, Railway Division,
the Bechuanaland Rifles, and the numerous native contingents
numbering, with the Town Guard, some fifteen hundred men. Against this
we must place an enemy whose tactics are surprising everybody, whose
artillery fire is admirable, whose guns are numerous and first class.
They stand off five miles and shell the town with perfect safety,
while under cover of their fire they project their advanced trenches
daily a few feet nearer the town. We have endeavoured with our
artillery and by night sorties to check their progress, but the
sapping of Mafeking continues, and is, at once, a very serious, if not
our sole, danger. Should their trenches advance much further it will
be impossible to move about during daytime at all, and, although we
have thrown up bales of compressed hay and sacks of oats to act as
shields against the enemy's bullets, and the flying splinters of
passing shells, there is no hour in the day in which the streets of
the town are not sprayed by Mauser bullets. It is not possible for us
to advance very far from our own lines, since, as eagles swoop down
upon their carrion, so would the Boers from other quarters attempt to
rush the town. Yet there is no doubt that such movement would be very
welcome, affording as much keen pleasure to the volunteers of the town
as to the newly-raised units of the garrison. We nurture a wild desire
to attempt to spike "Big Ben," and it may be that before long
Providence will turn from the side of the enemy by presenting us with
some such golden opportunity. The big gun is hedged around by barbed
wire, guarded in front by mines, flanked upon the one side by a
Nordenfeldt-Maxim and upon the other by a high-velocity Krupp. Truly,
they could deal out a very warm reception to those who chanced their
luck, but a little novelty these days atones for many hours of tiring
inactivity, and if the Colonel chose to put a price upon the task
there would be no trouble in enlisting for the venture some five
hundred volunteers. The siege, as it progresses, seems to give fewer
opportunities for coming into positive contact with the enemy; such
occasions as there have been are few and far between, and, although
Colonel Baden-Powell holds out the promise of such a venture, it has
been so constantly deferred that we are for the most part becoming
incredulous.




CHAPTER XIV

WASTED ENERGIES


                            MAFEKING, _November 22nd, 1899_.

Within a few weeks of Major Godley's daybreak attack upon the western
laager, it was decided to repeat the experiment against the main
position of the Boers upon the east side. Had this but come off, from
the estimate of the men and guns engaged, the movement would have been
as important as any which have taken place. It had been arranged to
open a general fire upon the emplacement of the hundred-pound gun and
the advanced trenches of the Boer position a short time before sunset,
since the closing of day would make it impossible for the enemy, in
the absence of aiming-posts and clinometers, to train their artillery
upon the town. Now that the enemy have begun to sap Mafeking by a
system of advanced galleries, the military authorities here have been
waiting for them to come within a certain radius of the town so that
we might counter-gallery their position and enfilade their trenches.
From their entrenchment at the brickfields, rather more than fifteen
hundred yards from the town, Boer sharpshooters have been sniping the
town with comparative impunity. When this plan was first projected,
natives, under Corporal Currie, Cape Police, were sent up the
river-bed, which runs at this particular point within three hundred
yards of the Boer flank, to build a trench as near as possible to the
position of the snipers in the brickfields. With the successful
execution of this piece of work the first steps towards the
contemplated reconnaissance had been taken, since this new post, which
was constructed under cover of night, completely outflanked the
advance trenches of the Boers. When they began to fire upon the town
in the morning they were somewhat surprised at receiving a volley from
what appeared to be little more than a mud heap. Corporal Currie and
his natives drove back the Boers from their advanced post in the
brickfields to the first line of trenches in their position, and so
long as we retained the river-bed post the brickfields ceased to give
shelter to the Boer sharpshooters; moreover, when the Boers had been
effectually quieted in the brickfields a little more of the original
conception was carried out. Captain Lord Charles Bentinck and A
squadron and Captain Fitzclarence with the Hotchkiss detachment were
sent to support the native outposts, while a seven-pound gun under
Lieutenant Daniels moved into an emplacement in the river-bed. Major
Panzera took command of the gun which was to support the Maxim under
Major Goold Adams in the north-east corner of the town. In conjunction
with this, the extreme eastern flank of the town was defended by a
detachment of the Cape Police with a Maxim, and a supplementary force
of the same police, under Inspector Marsh, were entrenched across the
eastern front of the native location. Thus upon Monday night were the
plans arranged. Shortly before midnight Major Panzera, who has charge
of the artillery, gave me a courteous permission to accompany
Lieutenant Daniels to his emplacement in the river-bed, from which
point it was possible to move to our advanced trenches further up the
stream. Mafeking had gone to rest when the gun started, and although
the wheels were padded and every precaution taken to muffle the noise,
it seemed that at any moment, the town would have been aroused. In a
little the immediate precincts of Mafeking had been left behind, and
the challenge of the last sentry answered. As we moved down to the
river-bed the gun detachment hung upon the rear of the gun straining
to prevent the shake and rumble of its descent. Silently we crept on;
no murmur of human voices, no steel rang a "care-creating" clatter, no
rumble of tumbril or gun broke through the darkness to the sentries of
the enemy; in about an hour the gentle lapping of the river told us
that the journey was at an end, and as we crossed the stream and
reached the party working upon the emplacement there was much feeling
of relief that the enemy had not sounded the alarm. While Lieutenant
Daniels arranged the emplacement of the gun, he permitted me to try my
hand at superintending native labour. There were thirty of them, who,
commencing about midnight, were to have completed by daybreak, the
task upon which they were engaged. It reminded me of the days at
college when the house whips stood over the team urging them and
coaching them in their game. There was every necessity for speed, and
as the night was cold one made the most of the opportunity. The
working party was divided into those with picks and those with
shovels--the one breaking up the ground, the others heaping up the
earthwork. In addition to the natives who were digging there was a
small party filling sacks with sand which, when they had been filled,
were piled up around the rapidly-rising parapet of the gun. As they
worked they sang, droning a war-song which seemed to give zest to
their labours. As an experience it was rather fine to feel that even
in this perfunctory fashion one was attempting work of some
importance. About the scene there was the usual feature of the veldt
by night: there was the subdued murmur of the waters tumbling gently
over stones or causing stray groups of bullrushes to shiver; then from
the bank there spread the veldt, rising in soft-clad hillocks, or
falling in snug hollows, the green expanse tinted with the silvery
light of the moon. Beyond ourselves and our cordon of sentries there
should have been no one, although occasionally we thought that, just
above the skyline, lights played about the shadowy outline of the Boer
gun. But if they heard us they took no notice, and as dawn broke
across the east the finishing touches to the gun were quickly given.
Brown earth was strewn upon the whitened patches of the bags which had
not been properly covered, the humidity of the fresh-turned soil
mingling with the fumes of working natives. For the night's work, as
we gathered our tools together, the best evidence of our labours was
the grim muzzle of the gun which leered through its embrasure. It
spoke defiance, and as the day which then was breaking, drew to its
close we should know whether its sense of might had been effectually
established. And so we returned to town talking upon the strength of
the emplacement and upon its strategic value. As we left the gun we
were alone, when suddenly, without a sound, the figure of the Colonel
was seen coming across the veldt. He passed us quickly, and as we
followed him we wondered what he knew, but before noon those who had
been informed of the contemplated attack had learned the news. As he
had crept up the lines he had passed detached parties of Boers
withdrawing from the extreme rear of their position. The explanation
was obvious, but he stayed until daybreak to make certain of his
ground, and by the light of early dawn the trenches which we were so
shortly to fire upon were found deserted. Thus do the spies work
within our camp, taking to the enemy news of everything which
happened, and thus does the Colonel circumvent them. However, if we
did not attack them with our guns, for the remainder of the day the
advanced squadrons in the river-bed justified their position by
keeping down the crew from the big gun. They poured in volleys at
1,400 yards, and, for the first time in the siege, no shells were
thrown. As they retired from their trenches, so they withdrew their
gun, and we had a day of peace.

But how wearily the time passes; moreover we are still enduring the
straits of a siege and the torments of a bombardment. For almost seven
weeks we have defied an enemy who encircle us upon every side, and who
has summoned to its aid, for the purposes of breaching our trivial
earthworks, the finest guns from their arsenal in Pretoria. The Boers
outnumber us in men and in artillery, and not a day has passed since
the siege began that they have not thrown shrapnel and common shell,
omitting minor projectiles, into the town. And still we live, with
just sufficient spirit to jeer across our ramparts at the enemy. They
Mauser us, and shell us; they cut our water off, and raid our cattle;
they make life hell, and they can do so, so long as it may please
them; but no one was ever so deluded if they think that by such means
Mafeking surrenders. From time to time we have given them a taste of
our quality, and if on occasion we have lost some few, it is a source
of melancholy satisfaction to know that their loss has been the
greater. It is not long since the Boers attempted to blow the town to
atoms through the agency of dynamite, though, _similia similibus
curantur_, they went to heaven prematurely by an undesirable
explosion. It was night, and the town was just about to rest, when it
was shaken to its foundations by a most deafening roar; sand and
stones, fragments of trees came down as hail from the skies, the whole
place being lighted with the lurid glow of blood-red flame. To the
north of Mafeking, and so close to the cemetery that it might have
been a pillar of fire coming to earth to claim its own, an immense arc
of fire and smoke was ejected out of the ground. After it there came
silence, broken here and there by the rattle of the _debris_ upon the
roofs of the houses, and by the shouts and shrieks of a town in the
confusion of a panic. That night those who slept had dreams of the day
of judgment, while those who lay awake were restless, quaking with an
insidious terror. In the morning the cause explained itself, since
barely half a mile up the line was an enormous rent in the ground, the
line itself being strewn and scattered with the rubbish of an
earthquake. The Boers, with much ingenuous enterprise, had despatched
upon a purely friendly mission a trolly load of dynamite;
unfortunately, where they had started their infernal machine the
declivity of the line had precipitated the truck backwards toward
their own camp, and having very foolishly lighted their time-fuse
before they had surmounted the crest of the rise, they had not the
courage to stop the progress of the somewhat novel engine of
destruction. Apparently it had rolled slowly downwards, tracking the
instigators of such a deed with very fatal persistence, until the
time-fuse met the charge, and powder and dynamite went off together.
Upon the morrow there was much sadness in the Boer camp, and much
silence.

Dynamite has played a not unimportant _role_ in the history of our
siege. Cronje has heard from native spies, and from his friends in our
camp, that Mafeking is set within a circle of dynamite mines, and he
has protested against its use in civilised warfare. Since then,
however, he has not only discharged dynamite by trolly loads into the
town, but he has threatened, in his vague and shadowy fashion, to send
to his capital for some dynamite guns. It would seem, then, that a
warm time is coming to Mafeking; the pity of it being that we are kept
so long and in such unnecessary suspense. If Cronje were the gallant
warrior whose dignity he assumes in addressing the garrison, he would
have either taken or abandoned Mafeking some weeks ago. As it is,
however, with occasional letters of regret for such untimely
procedure, he still elects to bombard an inoffensive and unoffending
township. The other morning, after the usual series of dull days, the
activity in the Boer camp suggested to us that the town was about to
be attacked. From the south-west the big Creusot opened fire at
intervals of twenty minutes, the intervening periods being pleasantly
filled in with Mauser and Martini fire and shells from two nine-pound
high-velocity Krupps. In a very short space of time the list of
fatalities included a native dog, a commissariat mule, and many
buildings. After such a bloodless bombardment the Boer legions
gallantly rode round to the east with the apparent intention of
attacking the town. Then we thought that, in that moment, our defence
would be justified, but he is wisest who determines what is to be the
nature of the Boer movement when that movement has taken place. Down
the serried lines of armed Dutchmen old Piet Cronje, as his friends
call him, or General Cronje, as a sycophantian Boer press describe
him, rode. He was a gallant sight--albeit we could only just see him
some two thousand yards distant. After a temporary and casual
inspection of his force, General Cronje turned his head towards
Mafeking, and waving violently one arm in the air, cantered with much
solemn apprehension towards our trenches. He had covered in this
desperate effort some thirty yards, when perhaps a natural
superstition caused him to turn his head. Was there a man dismayed in
the Boer lines? Not one; but nevertheless, they were not taking any
such manoeuvre just then. Cronje stopped and cantered back again,
seeming to hold an indaba with his petty officers. They gathered round
him, they talked to him, pointing towards their lines, and shouting at
one another; but there it ended. In a little while we saw a silent
figure, moody and taciturn, guarded by two orderlies, ride slowly
around from the east front to the headquarters of the executive on the
south-west. Thus Cronje failed, not through any fault of his, but
because the idle braggarts who form his army have not the spirit of
whipped curs. Since then Cronje has made no effort to storm Mafeking,
and it is very much to be doubted whether until the siege be raised
the attempt will be renewed.

One must sympathise a little with Cronje since he has not been able to
sustain in his attack upon Mafeking the high reputation which he
enjoys among his countrymen. Now that he has been recalled to Natal,
we here hope that he may be able to find some opportunity to
distinguish himself. His force without Mafeking is a raw, lawless body
of Western Boers, the majority of whom have followed him on his march.
We say Natal, but there is no very positive ground for believing that
it is in that direction that the new field of his activity lies. It
may be that he has gone South, and if such should happen to be the
case, it will not be long before he will come in contact with men who
will test his mettle to the utmost. There have been many rumours of
reinforcements: some people, addicted with a greater faculty of
imagination than power of veracity, have even seen the advanced
outposts of the relief, which, of course, is ridiculous. They mistake
some scattered party of Boers for advanced scouts. We do not think
that there is much real chance of the siege of Mafeking being raised
before the New Year, since such would be opposed to the stately and
insular procedure of the Imperial and Colonial War Offices. Hitherto
it has apparently ignored the claims of Mafeking. All conditions of
people here united in their efforts to secure some more or less
reliable armament from the Government, but the reason, above all
others, which made this impossible was that the Imperial authorities
at home, in their fatuity, could not bring themselves to believe that
the war, which South Africa knew to be imminent, would come to pass.
Nevertheless, in face of their neglect, we are snug in Mafeking,
although our artillery be hopeless; and since the war began we have
gradually added to our defences. After many days' bombardment a
breach was effected in one only of the town's earthworks. That was
very quickly repaired, so quickly indeed that before nightfall it had
already been restored.




CHAPTER XV

SHELLS AND SLAUGHTER


                                      _November 30th, 1899._

The Boers continue to shell Mafeking daily, and to concentrate upon
the streets of the town their customary rifle fire. At first we
experienced a terror of the dangers of shell fire, but the daily and
constant presence of exploding shells has brought about an unusual
degree of familiarity with its attendant feeling of contempt; people
now are too careless, seeming to rest under the delusion that, one and
all, enjoy an absolute immunity. The folly of it is that occasionally
the error of their way is illustrated by a longer list of fatalities
through one shell claiming half a dozen victims. Europeans perhaps,
are less careless of the consequences of shell fire than is the native
population, and it is a pity that it has not been found possible to
impress into the mind of the Kaffir a better appreciation of the
possible result of their intrepidity. We have had many more natives
killed than whites, and the element of tragedy in this becomes the
greater and more acute since, as a rule, the native, employed in
building bomb-proof shelters for the whites, lacks the energy to turn
to his own profit his knowledge of the manner in which shell cover
should be constructed. They lie about under tarpaulins, behind zinc
palings, wooden boxes, and flimsy sheds of that description, and
perhaps for days their shelter may escape the line of fire; but there
comes a moment made hideous by the scream of shell as it bursts in
some little gathering of dozing, half listless natives. At such a
moment their bravery is extraordinary--is indeed the most fearful
thing in the world. The native with his arm blown off, with his thigh
shot away, or with his body disembowelled, is endowed with extreme
fortitude and most stoical resolution. Unless he is seen, he lies
where he is struck, not caring to take the trouble to make his wounds
known to some one who could sympathise and assist him. When the gaze
of the curious is turned upon his mangled and wounded form he attempts
to laugh, makes every effort to assist himself, and even if he knows
that his injuries be fatal, he makes no sign. There is thus much to
admire in these natives, but for the most part, people are quite
indifferent to their sufferings.

A few moments ago, indeed as I was writing the concluding words of the
last sentence, a terrific explosion, a shower of gravel and leaden
bullets upon my roof, foretold the fact that somewhere near at hand
one of these untimely instruments of destruction had burst. As I went
to the door a crowd of people could be seen running towards the Market
Square, the air was filled with the strong perfume of the bursting
charge. I ran with the throng to where the shell had first struck in
Market Square before delivering its full effect upon the windows of
the local chemist. Amid the splintered glass and the consequent
disorder of the chemist's shop lay the writhing figure of an unhappy
native. As an illustration of the appalling wounds which these shells
inflict, I am purposely dilating upon this very pitiful scene. As the
shell rebounded from the ground leaving a hole many feet long, narrow,
and arrow-headed, it had come in contact with a native before it
wrecked the apothecary's store. Mingled with the fragments of glass
and the contents of the shop were shreds of cloth and infinitesimal
strips of flesh, while the entire environment of the scene was
splashed with blood. The poor native had lost an arm, a foot lay a few
yards from him, and his other leg was hanging by a few shreds of skin.
In an angle of the wall formed by the junction of the shop-front of
the chemist and the tin protrusion of his neighbour's building,
something was sticking. For the moment it had escaped the gaze of the
sordid few, who, drawn by idle curiosity, were standing about without
the inclination to help, or even a smattering of the first aid to the
injured. When the bleeding body was put upon a stretcher, and the
mangled extremities gathered together, the Hospital Orderly caught
sight of the bunch which was clinging to the recess in the wall. As he
went forward to seize it, the trickling streams of fluid which escaped
from it revealed only too plainly its true character. So great was the
force of the shell, and so near had its unfortunate victim been to the
galvanised iron wall, that as body and shell met, the terrible
violence of the impact had wrenched away the lump to hurl it, in the
same moment, through the exterior wall of the adjacent premises.
Despite his fearful injuries, which were beyond the scope of human
power to aid, he was not dead, feebly exclaiming as they put him in
the stretcher, "Boss, Boss, me hurt." The ruin of the building had
scarcely been realised, and the vapour of chemicals from the shell,
mingling with the scattered perfumes of the shop, with the scent of
the ploughed-up earth, and with that curious, insidious scent of a
wounded body dissipated--when a second shell screaming its passage
through the air hurled itself with a terrible velocity against the
other window of the same building. In effect it added a little more to
the ruin of the premises, escaping by a miracle five men who had been
standing in the interior of the premises, but killing an unfortunate
corporal, who had gone from the scene of the death of the native to
get a "pick-me-up" from the adjoining bar in Riesle's Hotel. In such a
manner does the death roll pile itself up--with the impending slowness
of a juggernaut and the haunting persistency of fate. If these were
the actual numbers of the killed upon this date, there were also two
who were wounded, one of whom has since died, thus giving to one day a
terrible trio. With such a sad lesson before one it would seem that,
beyond those who were compelled to be out and about, no one would
venture in the streets under shell fire, much less employ their
leisure in endeavouring to unload those of the enemy's shells that
might have fallen into the town, yet, but two days ago a local
wheelwright blew himself and two other men to an untimely end by the
explosion of a shell from which, with a _steel_ drill, he was
endeavouring to extract the charge. One of these men was killed almost
instantaneously, another had his leg blown off, while the third
sustained terrible wounds upon his body. There is not a day now
without fresh victims being claimed in different parts of the town.
Almost the first question asked as the shell bursts is for the name of
the unfortunate owner of the wrecked house, and the number of the
killed and wounded. In the early part of the siege when people were
thoroughly scared by the introduction of this new element of
destruction, bomb-proof shelters became quite popular, but lately with
the good luck which the people in town have enjoyed, the shelters have
been rather abandoned, but there is no doubt now, that the number who
have been killed in this past week has somewhat unnerved the town. If
it induces people to stay beneath their shelters, from out of the
fearful misfortunes which have fallen upon the few, may be derived
almost universal salvation.

[Illustration: Effects of Shell Fire. 1. Before.]

The hospital in these times, is the centre of melancholy interest to
the town. It is perhaps a quarter of a mile beyond the outskirts of
the town, but so situated that apart from the flag under whose
protection it should lie, it would be impossible for the enemy not to
be unaware that it was a natural shelter for the sick and wounded.
Much as the town in general, the Convent which adjoins the hospital,
and the hospital itself show the stress of the bombardment. The walls
of the hospital have been riddled with Martini and Mauser bullets,
while shells have perforated the galvanised iron roofing, torn holes
in the walls of the ward, wrecked outstanding buildings, and in brief,
played such direful havoc as would be considered impossible in a war
with any nation that has subscribed to the articles of the Geneva
Convention. Only the most strenuous opposition from Colonel
Baden-Powell, who threatened the severest pains, penalties, and
reprisals upon Commandant Cronje and Commandant Snyman, for their
neglect of the Red Cross flag, has saved the building in its entirety.
Nevertheless that degree of consideration, which we secured from the
Boers for our hospital was denied by these infamous barbarians to the
Convent and its gentle inmates. Their home has tumbled about its
foundations, the wall which faces the enemy's fire has been hit in
numerous places. Shells have ruined the children's dormitory, burst
with a magnificent effect in the interior of what would have been the
operating room, shattered a corner stone to pieces, and rendered
rotten and wholly impossible for any further habitation our subsidiary
hospital. The sisters, however, still stick to their posts and
minister the comforts of religion, though seeking their share in the
task of nursing, and setting, by their subdued heroism, an example to
the entire community. Never has any hospital been saddled with such a
work as the local one in Mafeking. War had taken every one so suddenly
that like everything else in Mafeking at the crucial moment, it was
wanting in much which was cardinal to its existence. The corps of
nurses was made up of those ladies from the town who were willing to
volunteer, and if there was an absence of the professional nursing
service, there were equally a dearth of dressers, of surgical
appliances, of medical comforts. The Victoria Hospital in times like
these possesses no Rontgen Rays, and many times indeed have the
medical staff regretted that so important an instrument should not
have been sent in good time. Indeed all that the Director-General of
Hospitals has done for Mafeking was to send Surgeon-Major Anderson out
from England, and had it not been that this gallant officer supplied,
at his own expense, a large quantity of medical stores which he
believed to be necessary, with the best intentions in the world, it
would have been impossible to cope with the requirements of the
wounded.

It has been interesting, however, to observe from the point of view of
the medical profession the nature of the wounds caused by the Mauser
and Martini rifles and shell-fire. The Mauser perforates, the Martini
splinters, the shell pulverises. The point of entry of the Mauser
bullet is somewhat smaller than the circumference of a threepenny
piece, and if it passes through the bone it does not appear to set up
any undue amount of splintering. The hole through which it emerges is
usually, except where the path of the bullet has been deflected, as
small as the point of penetration. The Mauser does not, as a rule, set
up in the body, and in the greater number of cases passes clean
through. It is a humane wound, and infinitely less injurious than the
Martini and Dum-dum. A Martini destroys a large internal surface
making beneath the point of contact a wound between two and three
inches in diameter, with an even greater area of exit. It sweeps
everything before it, shredding arteries, shattering the bones, while
its process of recovery is, in consequence, the more protracted. I
have already described the wounds from shell-fire, adding to that
account, however, the fact that the merest fragment of a shell is as
capable as the shell itself, of making most terrible injuries.

[Illustration: Effects of Shell Fire. 2. After.]




CHAPTER XVI

A SOFT-WATER BATH


                             MAFEKING, _December 6th, 1899_.

As compensation to the inhabitants of beleaguered Mafeking for the
many dull days we have had lately, yesterday was replete with
incidents and crowded with a constant succession of events of more
than ordinary interest. We have had our days of activity, when the
boom of artillery and the rattle of musketry have impressed into a few
brief hours the full measure of martial excitement, we have endured
our days of lonesome and tiring idleness when the hot winds of the
Kalahari Desert have swept eddies of whirring, biting sand across the
trenches, when the pitiless sun has spent its energies upon the
heat-stricken garrison. But yesterday we experienced the effect of a
combination between that Providence which the Boers claim as their
special and benign guardian and the elements themselves. It was a
reconnaissance in force by nature. A union of extreme subtlety and one
against which it was impossible to contend. It came, it swept
everything before it, and it left us drenched with rain, surrounded by
small lakes of mud, streams of water, and without dry garments to our
names. When the mischief was complete the deluge ceased. The general
physiognomy of the scene can be described at once. When dawn broke in
the morning across the sky there glowered the haze of heat, which in
Africa, as elsewhere, denotes a more than usually tropical day. To
those, however, who knew the signs of the sky, the fleeting masses of
black cloud, low down upon the horizon, foretold a day of evil
tempest. Slowly the rising wind drove them together until, shortly
before noon, clouds were bunched high up across the sky and over the
Boer laager. From where we were in the town it was quite apparent that
the temporary centre of the storm was almost above the emplacements of
the enemy's artillery. Before the breeze had increased the Boers had
thrown a few shells into the town, but presently, as the force of the
gale struck us, it was evident that the rain-filled clouds were
discharging their contents upon the extreme limits of the veldt. For
an hour or two the Boers received the full effect of the storm, and
but few drops of rain fell into the town, as the wind swept before its
path the _debris_ of the veldt, portions of broken trees, of scrub,
and bushes. The deluge quickly left the south-east, concentrating a
little beyond and over the town, and so soon as it began to trouble us
it seemed to have deserted the Boers. Possibly the wind carried with
it a rainspout, since the effect of the streaming water was as though
from somewhere in the sky buckets were being emptied on to the place
beneath. The veldt was quickly flooded, the dried-up spruits were soon
charged with foaming cataracts, Mafeking itself lay under water, the
earthworks around the town were swept away, trenches and bomb-proof
shelters were choked with eddying streams, everywhere was
ruin--destruction and complete chaos reigned until the storm had spent
itself. Down the acclivity upon which Cannon Kopje is placed there
rolled the surging tide, carrying in its might the stores of the fort,
the blankets of the men, the bodies of struggling animals, who, if
they succeeded in coping with the force of the stream, were dashed to
pieces upon the rocky facing of the hill. The women's laager, which
has hitherto rested in snug seclusion at the base of the hills forming
the western outposts, was, in a few minutes, flooded with the
off-pourings from the sluits of the veldt, while the trenches were
quickly submerged or silted with the refuse of the torrent. A cart
which went to the assistance of the inmates of the laager found itself
water-bound through the tremendous force of the tortuous cataracts. In
the town, bomb-proof cellars were vacated, and the people, discarding
their shoes and stockings, made their way from point to point by
paddling and fording the footpaths across the streets. To the north of
the town, below the exterior outposts, the men stripped to the skin,
allowing the full strength of the streaming downpour to beat upon
them. The Market Square was a sheet of running water, rising with such
rapidity that it seemed that the houses bordering the square would be
inundated.

From Market Square, upon two sides, the roads make something of a
descent, and down these slight inclines volumes of water, yards in
width and some feet in depth precipitated themselves to the river-bed.
As the storm increased it was seen that it would be impossible to
retain any longer our advanced positions in the river-bed. The first
to go was the trench occupied by Corporal Currie and his native
sharpshooters. As the water swept from bank to bank through this post,
which we, but a few days before, had won so gallantly from the enemy,
the men clambered up the banks to the veldt and made their way as best
they could to the base. With the flooding of this position, so rapidly
did the river rise, that those occupied by Captain Fitzclarence and
his squadron were equally untenable. As they were abandoned the stream
rushed by them with the roar of a river in flood, while the crash of
boulder upon boulder turned masses of rock into shattered fragments.
Within an hour the river had risen eight feet, and so unexpected was
the flood that for the time being it was not possible to rescue from
the rising stream the 7-pounder gun, which was in position some way
down the river. As the rain continued the wind died down, until in the
height of this storm it scarcely possessed the strength to dissipate
the white mists which were rising from the veldt. They hung low upon
the ground, prevented from rising by the strength of the downpour, and
making it difficult to see the progress of events in the enemy's
lines. From time to time above the hissing of the rain and the roar of
the rivers we heard the angry cough of the Nordenfeldt, the shrieks of
their quick-firing guns, and the heavy and more stately boom of "Big
Ben." Ofttimes there was the echo of the Mauser, the grating rustle of
the Martini, and it soon became evident that the enemy did not propose
to let us endure the misery of the storm altogether undisturbed. From
these omens, as some slight diminution in the downpour allowed the
mists to rise from the ground, we expected to hear the sound of
exploding volleys coming through the fog, and to find that the fight
had become suddenly desperate; but the Boers lacked the individual
courage, and the charge which they might have made under cover of the
tangle of the brushwood and the bewilderment of the fog never took
place. They were satisfied with cannonading our position; and across
the ground, heavy with rain, upon which the mist laid dense, the red
flashes of the gun and the sparkle of the rifles had a weird effect as
they flared and vanished through the eddying masses of vapour and
fantastic columns of smoke. The tumbling volumes of mist and the
grey-black masses of smoke mingled and curled in distorted pillars,
forming at a moment when the sun shone briefly, as the tears of heaven
dried off into space, an evanescent and iridescent canopy of colour.
The respite was momentary, and as the sun withdrew, the groups of men
that had been seen about the Boer lines were quickly obscured in
clouds of grosser vapour. Their fire, however, continued, while about
them tossed the thick white fog, as above us occasionally rolled the
thunder of their guns. The area of the storm included the most
advanced trenches of the Boers, and as the wind shifted the gloomy
masses of vapour we saw through the whirling mist and smoke-charged
air, the Boers, rain-soaked as ourselves, standing disconsolately upon
their muddy parapets. They did not seem to understand what they should
do. They could hear their own guns firing on our positions, happily
beyond the later centre of the storm, but these men themselves stood
still, shaking the water from their limbs, attempting to dry their
weapons. At night, with the darkness to cover our misfortunes, the
town was busily constructing fresh earthworks, draining those shelters
from which any further use could be obtained, and making such amends
as were possible for an occurrence, almost unprecedented in the annals
of war.




CHAPTER XVII

THE ECONOMY OF THE SITUATION


                                      _December 12th, 1899._

The importance of the resistance which Mafeking has made to the
attacks of the Boers should be viewed in the light of its relationship
to the two Protectorates, Bechuanaland and Matabeleland, since had
this place fallen, its position as a _depot_ for the Northern trade
would have made it a comparatively easy task for the victorious Boers
to have secured the control of the intermediate areas. They would have
at once seized the rolling stock of the railway whose headquarters are
temporarily invested in Mafeking, and could, by that means, have
mobilised their forces in a fashion and with a degree of acceleration
which would have brought them in a completely equipped and efficient
condition to the borders of Rhodesia. Indeed, from what one can learn
now, it is not at all improbable that the plan of the northern
operations of the Boer forces from their base at Mafeking provided for
the seizure of Mafeking with its stores and rolling stock, with their
subsequent enlistment of this material in the work of occupying
Bechuanaland and assisting our enemy in the concentration of their
forces upon Rhodesia. With the railway in their hands small forces
would have been stationed at the important points such as are afforded
by the natural drifts, and while they maintained by this system of
custodianship an open line of communication, they would, at the same
time, have been free to utilise, in a combined and united mass, all of
these scattered parties of Boers who were engaged upon marauding
expeditions between here and Middle Drift. The history of Mafeking
then would have been but the story of Vryburg, where, once its
sympathy to the Boer cause was proclaimed and the place effectually
occupied, the Boer commandant withdrew the greater portion of his men
to fresh spheres of activity. With Mafeking in the hands of the enemy,
our chief stand would have been around Buluwayo, where Colonel
Baden-Powell and Colonel Plumer would have united their commands,
thereby presenting to the enemy greater resistance than would have
been possible had the forces been engaged upon their own initiative.
In a way, therefore, Mafeking has forged an important link in the
chain of outposts, by which the safety of the Protectorates has been
guaranteed and the independence of the country still preserved to
Imperial rule. It must not be forgotten, however, that the success
which Plumer's column has enjoyed at Rhodes' Drift and at Middle Drift
gave to Southern Rhodesia a certain immunity from hostile invasion,
while in any estimate of the economy of the victories which Colonel
Plumer's men and our own here have scored against the Boers, it should
be borne in mind that had they vanquished our forces at Middle Drift
or Rhodes' Drift, further Imperial territory would have been invaded,
and the road upon which they might have marched to besiege Buluwayo
would have been open to them. Colonel Baden-Powell has, of course,
been chiefly instrumental in preventing the investment of Buluwayo,
since the determined stand which he made caused General Cronje to hold
an aggregate number of Boers, amounting to 8,000 men, and by far the
larger portion of the Western Division of the S.A.R. forces, under his
control for Mafeking; but without in any way disparaging this work, so
important in its achievements, so vital in its issues, nothing perhaps
has proved so integral a factor in the work of maintaining our
occupation and dominion over these important adjuncts of our Empire in
Africa, as the defence which Colonel Plumer so successfully and
gallantly accomplished. However we here may have assisted in the
preservation of those Protectorates as Imperial dominions, there can
be no doubt we should have lost, for the time being, all claim to
their moral and practical possession had Colonel Plumer's force
retired. With 8,000 men investing Mafeking, and various minor bodies
scattered up and down the border between here and Fort Tuli, the enemy
could have spared 6,000 men for co-operation with these subsidiary
bodies, and still have maintained the siege and bombardment of this
town. It did not need, then, its downfall to give the Boers important
belligerent rights throughout the Protectorate and Southern Rhodesia,
and although our surrender might have materially facilitated their
progress, our successful opposition did not necessarily, nor
altogether, impede it. The strategical value of the drifts made their
safe custody a matter of momentous importance, since through them, as
much as from Mafeking, might entry have been made and territorial
supremacy for the moment acquired. Indeed, it is very much to be
doubted whether the chief value of the stand by which Mafeking has
distinguished itself is not found in the lesson which it has read to
the Colony itself. Had we gone the way of Vryburg, or had we
surrendered after some slight stand, it is almost certain that our
fall would have been the signal for the general uprising of the Dutch
in the northern areas of the Colony as well as in British
Bechuanaland. How near we are to a mare's nest in Mafeking is
uncertain, but after much inquiry amongst the chief people (business)
in the town, there is no doubt that had the inhabitants of Mafeking
been able to conceive the difficulties and trials which were about to
beset them, the losses in business at the moment, and the temporary
stagnation which will follow the war, they would have preferred to
have worshipped the Golden Calf, and to see Colonel Baden-Powell and
Colonel Hore remove their headquarters to some spot in the
Protectorate, while the sleek and prosperous merchants of Mafeking
were thus enabled to follow their occupation and to turn over their
money while they lived amid the baneful protection of a temporary and
purely commercial allegiance to the Transvaal Republic. It is not, it
would seem, that individually Mafeking is disloyal, but that it is
essentially a commercial centre, governed, impressed, and inherited by
commercial instinct, and reflecting, in its inhabitants, a gathering
of the peoples of the world in more or less confused proportion. There
is a small German community, there is an American colony, there are
French, and Jews of every nation. They have made money in Mafeking;
they own much property; they are even friendly to the Transvaal since
they have large trade interests among Dutch towns which are near the
border. They came here in the days when this part of Africa was
unknown to white man; they trekked from Kimberley, from the Transvaal,
even across the African desert from the coast, and if they have lived
beneath the protection of our standard, they have amassed their wealth
by trading with the flags of all nations. They care very little indeed
for the Uitlander in the Transvaal, for his wrongs or for his rights,
but they would respect him much if he came with his cattle and his
sheep, with his waggons and his chattels, and some superfluity of
money, for then they could add still further to their hoard of shekels
and trade with him for his cattle. It is a weird and motley crowd that
constitutes Mafeking: disgusted with Imperial government, wishing to
have vengeance upon the Colonial Government, and boasting to Heaven at
one moment about their gallant resistance, crying out against the
ill-wind that has brought them the siege. They move with the current
of the Colony, and can be as easily disturbed to patriotism as they
can rouse themselves to a passionate criticism of the follies of the
Imperial protection under which they exist. When they are moved to
sympathy with the Dutch, it is difficult to believe that they are the
self-same loyal inhabitants of Mafeking who are now beleaguered, since
by daily contact, by union of marriage, by personal friendship, they
have consciously or unconsciously assimilated the cause of the Boer,
and reveal the profundity of their sympathies in these times of
distress.

An interesting side issue to the siege of Mafeking has been the chain
of events relating to the departure of Lady Sarah Wilson from Mafeking
upon the night of the day during which war was declared, her
temporary sojourn at Setlagoli, from where she supplied the garrison
with news, and acted as the chief medium by which Baden-Powell managed
to get his dispatches through to the Government in Cape Town; her
retirement from Setlagoli, when her work was discovered, to General
Snyman's laager before Mafeking to request from that gentleman a safe
permit into Mafeking; her eventual arrival in the town in exchange for
the prisoner Viljoen. Lady Sarah Wilson experienced no very
extraordinary adventures and was treated with that consideration which
is due to her sex by the Boers, despite the fact that they might have
made her position somewhat unpleasant, since she had quite voluntarily
taken up active participation in the siege by endeavouring to keep the
garrison supplied with news.




CHAPTER XVIII

A VISIT TO THE HOSPITAL


                                      _December 12th, 1899._

The week has been a dull one, which in relation to the siege implies
that the passing days have not borne what we have now come to regard
as their full quota of shells and bullets. We here are somewhat
sceptical of the lapses of the bombardment since tactics which the
Boers have already adopted have led us to believe that intervals of
some hours' duration be planned deliberately so that when shelling
should be renewed, it may please Providence, ever on the side of the
Boers, to have the streets thronged with people. Upon one or two
occasions we have been lulled into a fancied security by the cessation
of shell fire; but with the lamentable occurrences of last week, we
are disinclined to be again caught napping. Accordingly, although
there has been a week of extraordinary desistence upon the part of the
enemy, those who were about were careful enough to take their airing
within a short distance of their bomb-proof shelters. In a fashion,
this gave to the environments of the town and the town itself, the
appearance of a rabbit warren, where at sunset the little animals may
be seen bunched about the entrance to their retreats. A few ladies
enjoyed the novelty of tea _al fresco_, with possibly, a keener
appreciation for their propinquity to some bomb-proof, than for the
light refreshment in which they were indulging.

Thus it came that I was visiting the hospital, chatting with the
physicians upon the stoep of the building. Beneath the shelter of the
verandah lay the forms of many who had been wounded, and who now were
sufficiently recovered to sit outside; here and there a man limped
painfully with the aid of crutches, to talk to a comrade who, with his
arm in a sling, was not altogether inappreciative of the fact that he
had been wounded in a recent sniping affray against the enemy's
position in the brickfields. As we sat upon the stoep with our legs
dangling to the ground, behind us in the building there was the
complement of battle: the wounded, the nurses, and the doctors; but in
front of us there was the expansion of the veldt, green and peaceful.
The heat haze lay upon it, simmering in an endless stretch of floating
vapour. There was every appearance of the provincial and rural
simplicity which goes to make up the daily life of those who live upon
the veldt. There were homesteads which, but a few months ago, had been
the centre of some small and flourishing agrestic community, but were
now charred and blackened, epitomising the destruction which the Boers
deal out to unoffending people; in the place of the herds which
formerly had grazed upon the scene, there were the white covers of the
Boer laagers; there were the lines of the Boer horses, there were the
mobs of cattle, of sheep, of goats, which, raided from the
countryside, had been collected in the rear of the enemy's
encampments. Upon the skyline, from the steps of the hospital, the
emplacement of "Big Ben" could be seen outlined quite distinctly in
the bright sunlight. The position of the gun was known by the glint of
the sun as it played upon the burnished metal.

Presently, as we talked, there came the boom of cannon, and the enemy
had turned upon the stadt their quick-firing Krupps. Instinctively,
since the habits which rule the enemy are well known to us, a wounded
man called out to us that was the five o'clock gun, and for the moment
we were uncertain as to whether the peace of the afternoon would be
further disturbed. But in a little a column of smoke, white and heavy,
hung over the position of "Big Ben," and we at once settled down for
further shelling during the remainder of the time that daylight
lasted. In the distance, out on the furthest limits of the Stadt,
there came echoes, echoing back the noise of the explosion when the
hundred-pound shell burst amid a collection of native huts. It is so
seldom that these greater projectiles miss their victims, that
preparations were at once made for any casualties that might have been
sent to the hospital. With these measures taken, we waited while the
firing grew heavier. It was just one of those moments which we had
been anticipating from the fashion which our friend the Boer had
already set, and in a little it was proved that whatever had been our
expectations they would be fully realised. When the firing began, the
scene upon the stoep of the hospital gradually changed; the wounded
were carried back to their wards, Surgeon-Major Anderson, the Imperial
officer who has been sent out here; Dr. Hayes, who in the virtue of
the rank of P.M.O. conferred by Colonel Baden-Powell, has charge of
the hospital, and his brother, both local practitioners, waited the
course of events upon the steps of the building. For the time firing
seemed confined to the artillery and rifles from the Boer trenches in
the brickfields, the south-eastern front of the town and the eastern
facing of the native location receiving the brunt. By degrees the
entire position of the enemy upon that side dropped into line, giving
cause and effect to the wisps of smoke which broke into the air about
the advanced trenches of the foe. In about half an hour from the time
the first shell exploded over the stadt, a stretcher-party appeared
coming from the town and began to descend into the trench which led to
the hospital. As they crossed the recreation ground, a large white
flag which was carried in advance of the party, heralding to the Boers
the passing of wounded, attracted the attention of the enemy and was
promptly fired upon. It is these wilful acts which make it difficult
to consider the Boer in any way removed from a savage combatant, and
although the flag-bearer waved repeatedly to the enemy's trenches, the
fire from that direction did not diminish. With no little heroism the
stretcher-party, which was under Sergeant-Major Dowling, a resident
physician in Cape Town, who volunteered his services for the campaign,
and who has charge of the subsidiary hospital in the native location,
made their way across the zone of fire to the doors of the hospital.
Then in a moment all that had been peaceful and serene before, became
impressed with the horrible effects and the fearful injuries which are
derived from war.

The stretcher was taken to the operating-room, where nurses had
already begun to arrange the table, to prepare the carbolic lotion, to
lay out the lint and bandages, the dressing dishes, sponges, and a
fine array of instruments; then when the stretcher had been placed
beside the table, willing and gentle hands lifted the inanimate form
by the corners of the brown and blood-stained mackintosh sheet in
which the body had been enshrouded. Dr. Hayes snicked the strings
which had caught the ends of the sheet about the injured, and as he
threw back the flaps Surgeon-Major Anderson gently separated the
clothing where, matted with blood, it had congealed into a sticky mass
about the injuries. The doctors and the surgeon, bending with callous
diffidence about the inert and prostrate form, then proceeded rapidly
with their examination. Through the western windows of the room there
came the ruddy rays of the sun as it sank to its rest. The light
caught the bottles on the shelves, flickered for a moment upon the
silvery brightness of the instruments, and played about the hair of
the nurses, who, passing to and fro across the window, were as much
interested in their work as in the nature of the patient's injuries.
In a corner of the room Sergeant-Major Dr. Dowling explained to
Surgeon-Major Anderson that the patient, who was a native woman of
some repute, had been washing clothes upon the banks of the Molopo,
when a flight of one-pound steel-pointed Maxim shells burst about her.
The pelvis and the femur had been shattered completely, besides
internal wounds of a most fatal character in the abdominal regions.
The left foot was also pulverised, the extraordinary part being that
any one, after suffering such severe injuries and sustaining so great
a shock to the system, should yet be living. The examination
completed, Dr. Hayes, turning to the head nurse, said that it was
impossible to do anything which would save the woman's life,
inquiring, as Surgeon-Major Anderson dissolved a grain of morphia in a
wine-glass, if any one knew the name of the native. As the nurse was
about to reply, the patient, moaning feebly, expressed in excellent
English, that her name was Martha. Then it appeared that she was
recognised as being the wife of a Fingo in the location, one who
before marriage had been a member of the oldest profession which the
world has ever known, but since lawful wedlock had consummated her
union, she had passed, after the manner of her tribe, a life of great
austerity. The air of the operating-room was becoming oppressive, the
moaning of the patient merging with the heavy scent of the iodoform
and the lighter evaporation of the carbolic liniment began gradually
to dominate the nerves. To the casual observer such as myself, the
scene was striking. The insensitiveness of those assembled in the
operating-room, in reality the outcome of great experience in a
particular profession, enforced a calmness of feature and of feeling
with which I was far from being actually animated. The mechanical
industry of the surgeons, the automatic regularity with which the
hospital orderly waved his fly whisk above the head of the dying
woman, imparted a coldness to the scene which one could not help
observing. In a fashion, all that human skill could do had been
accomplished, since had the foot been amputated at the ankle, or the
thigh removed at the hip, the labour would have been unnecessary, the
extra shock to the system serving only to accelerate the end. Very
gently they sponged the mouth and nose of the woman and cooled her
brow, very gently they administered morphia and sips of brandy, but
one by one the doctors, rinsing their hands and lowering their
shirt-sleeves, put on their jackets. At the door of the operating-room
Dr. Hayes and Surgeon-Major Anderson paused to impart a few brief
instructions to the nurses. They were not to forget, said the P.M.O.,
to remove the tourniquet from the pelvis when the end had come;
Surgeon-Major Anderson adding to this an order to continue waving the
fly whisk so long as there existed the necessity.

And the incident had closed.




CHAPTER XIX

A LITTLE GUN PRACTICE


                                      _December 23rd, 1899._

We take a keen interest in our artillery, although we never cease to
deplore the fact that the War Office did not think it necessary to
send to Mafeking anything better than old muzzle-loading
seven-pounders of the Crimean period. Their range is restricted, and
their mobility is greatly inferior to more modern types; but if they
have not enabled us to do very much, we have at least been able to
return their fire. In this way quite a little flutter of enthusiasm
has been aroused through having unearthed an antiquated
sixteen-pounder gun. It would seem to have been made about 1770, and
is identical with those which up till very recently adorned the quay
at Portsmouth. Its weight is 8 cwt. 2 qr. 10 lb., and it was made by
B. P. and Co. It is a naval gun, and is stamped "No. 6 port." How it
came here is uncertain, and its origin unknown; but one gathers that
it must have been intended more for privateering than for use in any
Government ship of war, since it is wanting in all official
superscription. This weapon, which we have now christened "B.-P." out
of compliment to the Colonel, has been lying upon the farm of an
Englishman whose interests are very closely united with the native
tribe whose headquarters are in Mafeking Stadt. Mr. Rowlands can
recall the gun passing this way in charge of two Germans nearly forty
years ago. He remembers to have seen it in the possession of Linchwe's
tribe, and upon his return to the Baralongs, after one of his trading
journeys, he urged the old chief to secure it for use in defence of
the Stadt against the attacks of Dutch freebooters. The chief then
visited Linchwe and bought the gun for twenty-two oxen, bringing it
down to Mafeking upon his waggon. In those days it had three hundred
rounds of ammunition, which were utilised in tribal fights. With the
exception of visits which the gun made to local tribes, it has
remained here and is now in the possession of Mr. Rowlands. It has
recently been mounted, and is in active operation against our enemies.
We have made balls for it, and are intending to manufacture shells, in
the hope that we shall at least be able to reach the emplacement of
"Big Ben." The first trial of "B.-P." in its new career gave very
satisfactory results. With two pounds of powder it threw a ball of ten
pounds more than two thousand yards. The power of the charge was
increased by half pounds until a charge of three pounds threw a ball
of the same weight as the first rather more than two miles. We,
therefore, have pinned our hopes upon it, and commend to the
responsible authorities the reflections which may be derived from the
fact that our chief and most efficient means of defence, lie in such a
weapon.

After many weeks of inactivity upon our part, we have lately taken the
initiative against the foe, whose present mode of war, so far as this
place is concerned, would seem to give preference to the chastened
security of laagers already beyond the three-mile limit from the town.
Upon two occasions during the last week we have celebrated dawn with
many salvoes of artillery, securing sufficient noise and effect from
our shell fire display, to excite the town to no little enthusiasm.
Moreover, up to the present, reaction has not set in, and we are even
more cheerful to-day than we were at the beginning of the siege.
Dingdaan's Day, the earlier of the two events, was distinguished by
the Boers, as by ourselves, with a bombardment, which opened with a
hundred-pound shell from "Big Ben," landing in the Headquarters Office
at half-past two in the morning. Fortunately no one sustained any
injury from this untimely marauder of our rest, the corner of the
building alone being shattered, and the town itself sprinkled with
fragments of masonry and shell. A few hours later the enemy again
started firing, while our guns upon the east front proceeded to give a
good account of themselves. About seven o'clock firing for the day
ceased from the Boer lines, since they devoted themselves to psalm
singing and prayer gathering in their laagers in commemoration of
their day of independence; but we, upon our part, threw four rounds at
noon into their camp, and then we, too, enjoyed the comparative peace
of the siege. For the next few days our guns remained quiet, and "Big
Ben" kept its nose pointed upon the furthest limits of the Stadt or
Cannon Kopje, until the impression gained ground that the Boers had
shifted the gun round to a position upon which they were very busily
engaged on the western side of the Stadt. There were those even who
were willing to lay odds that, when the gun fired again, it would be
found to have taken up a new site. And so universal was this idea that
it was not altogether discarded by members of the Staff. With a view
to disproving this illusion Colonel Baden-Powell arranged that all our
available artillery, under Major Panzera, should effect a
reconnaissance of the Boer lines upon the east of the town, from which
it could easily be learnt whether the fire of the big gun still
dominated that front.

There had been some little talk of a movement against the five-pound
gun, which the enemy had located at Game Tree, and upon Sunday night I
camped with Captain Vernon, from whose fort upon the western outposts,
the sortie would have taken place. However, nothing happened, and
although a few shells fell about us at daybreak, there was nought to
interest one beyond the usual routine of daily life upon the western
outposts. Upon returning to town I learnt that the following morning
might reveal something more important than a mere artillery exchange.
Towards nightfall, to those who knew about the contemplated move,
Mafeking appeared to present much unusual animation. Artillery
officers, whose duty detained them at points distant from the town,
gathered at Headquarters to receive Major Panzera's final instructions
before setting out for their emplacements, as at the same time small
detachments of men moved to reinforce the entrenchments along the
eastern front. For the most part the town went to its rest in
ignorance of the surprise which was being laid for the enemy at
daybreak upon the following morning, and by nine o'clock the nocturnal
aspect of the town was eminently peaceful. The transformation from the
harsh and biting sunlight of the day to the soothing and eerie light
of night impressed the hour with grandeur and solemnity, which was in
striking contrast to the labour upon which we were engaged. From the
town, those guns which were not already in position moved to their
stations--one, the Hotchkiss, being despatched to an emplacement which
had only been completed the preceding night. It was a pleasant
scramble to this position across the veldt, and so near to the enemy's
lines that we could hear the murmur of their voices as they called to
one another in the trenches and discerned their gloomy figures
silhouetted against the skyline. The Hotchkiss, which was our extreme
piece upon the north-east of the town, was to direct its fire upon the
enemy at the waterworks and the opposing corner of their advanced
trenches. Its precise utility was uncertain, since it was not possible
to see the object at which its fire would be directed, but, as the gun
party moved to the emplacement, the officer in charge arranged with
the nearest entrenchment in the rear to signal the accuracy of his
range. Then we set out to visit the outposts and the different
emplacements. Time and distance passed rapidly in the starlight
expanse of the night, and few things could have been more impressive
than the calm which had come upon the town. From the veldt, as we cut
directly across from the Hotchkiss to the nearest post, it seemed as
though we were passing some walled-in city of the ancient days. At
short distances the outlines of the forts showed out against the
buildings, and it became almost difficult to suppress the cry to the
sentry, "Watchman, what of the night?" As we made our rounds it was
interesting to note how some points had received heavier fire than at
others. The ground round the Dutch Church was ploughed and furrowed
by shell, and at Ellis's Corner and across the front of the location
to Cannon Kopje there were numerous traces of the enemy's bombardment.
Presently the rounds were concluded, and Major Panzera went to snatch
a few hours' rest before he opened fire in the morning. As upon
Dingdaan's morning, so this time did I attach myself to the
emplacement under the direct control of Major Panzera, at the Dutch
Church, and around this, as he arrived there, the hour of midnight
chiming from the church towers, there were the sleeping figures of the
gunners. For the time we slept together, and when Major Panzera
aroused us in the morning the rawness of the morning air foretold the
earliness of the hour.

The mists of night were still rising from the veldt about the Boer
lines, and as we looked through our field-glasses, figures here and
there, were busily engaged in gathering brushwood for the matutinal
fire. Then, as it was yet early, and they were about to prepare their
coffee, we boiled up ours, and, passing round the billy, filled our
pannikins to the health of the enemy. It was but a grim jest, and one
perhaps which shows the indifference of the men to the accidents of
fate, but as we drank, he who was number one said, raising his tin to
the air, "We will drink with you in hell." But the hour of jesting was
soon over and the gun party prepared for their morning's work by
running up the gun into the embrasure. Number one laid the gun, and
number two stood with his lanyard in his hand ready to connect the
friction tube. Number three hung upon the trail piece, and he, with
the sponge and ramrod, was prepared for immediate service. Within a
few feet of them were two who were actively adjusting the time fuses.
At their side there was a pile of common shell and shrapnel, and with
this, the local colour of the picture is completed. Of a sudden
Panzera gave the order to the man who fed the gun--"Common shell,
percussion fuse, prepare to load," and as it passed from the hands of
the man to the muzzle of the gun, one found oneself muttering a prayer
for the souls of the Boers who were so speedily to be sent into
perdition. "Load," said Panzera rapidly, and the gun was loaded. Then,
as I focussed my glasses upon the scene, the Major took one last
squint down the sights of the gun. It was well and truly laid, and as
he straightened himself to the precision of the parade ground the end
came rapidly. "Prepare to fire," said he, and number two stepped
forward, dropping the friction tube into the vent. "Fire," said
Panzera, and one raised the glasses to fix them upon a party of Boers
whom we could see drinking their coffee, as they sat upon the parapet
of the trench. There was a roar, a cloud of smoke, and a red fierce
tongue of flame leapt from the muzzle of the gun. Dust and smoke and
sand enveloped the place where those Boers had been sitting, and I
found myself wondering and endeavouring to believe that the breach in
the parapet foreboded no great harm to anybody. The battle, if battle
it were to be, had been started by a well-directed shell. Quickly the
gun was trained and loaded again, and I felt the excitement entering
into my soul. The feelings of humanity left me, and I began to hope
that we should kill them every time. Again our gun fired, falling
short, but giving the signal to the others along the front to join in
the comparative splendour of the cannonade. Away down in the river-bed
our guns boomed; beyond it and between that emplacement and Cannon
Kopje there were the jets of smoke from the Nordenfeldt like the
spurts of steam from a geyser. Above us there was the Hotchkiss and
the merry rattle of the Maxim. So far as noise, and numbers of the
pieces engaged, went the press of battle was about us. All down our
front there broke the whistling rush of Lee-Metford rifles, as the
eastern line of the defence dropped into action. For the moment the
Boers were surprised at the manner and method of our onslaught, and
beyond a few desultory rifle shots our guns fired some few rounds
before any shells came back in answer. As Major Panzera had opened the
fight so they threw their first shells upon his emplacement, and a
well-directed flight of one-pound steel-topped base fuse Maxim broke
in a cloud of dust about us, flinging their sharp-edged fragments in
all directions. Then we fired again, raking the parapet of the Boers'
trench, and wondering whether the big gun would reply to us, or
whether those who had speculated upon its removal would win. The music
of the fight grew louder and louder, the quick-firing guns of the
enemy paying their tribute. From where we were we could see the gun in
the river-bed emplacement doing remarkable execution. The smoke of our
own hung heavy upon us, mingling with the dust from the Maxim shell,
as the enemy continued to pepper our emplacement. We were beginning to
find it difficult to see, while the roar of the guns made it almost
impossible to catch the officer's orders. Suddenly, as our gun again
broke forth, the bell clanged in the distance six times. It was the
signal that the big gun had fired, the six strokes indicating that it
was pointed upon us. We heard it and crouched in the dust, and as we
crouched we wondered. There was a screaming tumult in the air, a
deafening explosion at our feet shook the ground; earth and dust,
stones and bits of grass fell all about us, and the roofs of buildings
upon either side of us rattled with the fragments of the shell as it
burst within a circle of twenty-five yards from the gun. It was a
moment rather fine than frightful, with just sufficient danger in it
to make it interesting, but, if anything, somewhat quickly over. We
wiped the dust from our faces, shook the grass from our shirts, and
laid again: once more fired, and chuckled to see, through rifts in the
battle smoke, that it had landed in the very centre of the trench.
Again the bell clanged sonorously, and a building not fifteen yards
from us was blown to pieces. They were getting nearer, and making
magnificent shooting, when the Nordenfeldt turned its fire upon "Big
Ben" itself. From where we were we could see the thin columns of smoke
rising, as the bullets burst before and behind the emplacement. If
anything were calculated to check its fire it was the irritating and
penetrating possibility of the armour-piercing Nordenfeldt. With the
introduction of "Big Ben" into the morning's festivities, the Boers
opened from their trenches, with their Mauser and Martini rifles. In
the intervals between the shells from "Big Ben," the Maxim, and
quick-firing nine-pounders, the enemy swept our emplacements with
their rifle fire. They came through the embrasure with quite fatal
accuracy, dropping at our feet and raising dust all around us, but the
tale of the one is the tale of the many, and the same scene was
occurring throughout the entire eastern front. For a moment it became
impossible to serve the gun, and we desisted with apologies to the
enemy, but anon rifle fire was deflected, and we again trained the
gun upon those very advanced trenches of the enemy; but, as we fired,
the bell rang, and for the third time their shell, passing ours in its
flight, tore up the ground in front of us. And then the Nordenfeldt
spoke again, shooting into the very smoke of the gun as though they
were anxious to drop projectiles into the breach itself. And to the
north of us the Hotchkiss spitted, as though resenting the intrusion
of this big bully. But there unfortunately it ended, and no more big
shells came our way, and we contented ourselves with a parting sally.

Then the gun was sponged and laid to rest in the trench, and the spare
shell put back into the box as the engagement closed. Then Panzera
called his men together and thanked them, expressing his admiration
for their courage and their coolness. Then we cheered him, and
returning thanks for thanks, we went to breakfast, but in the distance
we could see the Red Cross upon the white background, floating in
tragic isolation, above a waggon, which was stopping ever and anon at
places where we knew our shells had broken. That was in the Boer
lines, but in our own the bugle sounded us to breakfast.




CHAPTER XX

THE ATTACK UPON GAME TREE


                            MAFEKING, _December 27th, 1899_.

Barely had the celebration of Christmas Day passed in Mafeking when
the order to prepare for immediate action was sent out from
Headquarters, and in the early hours of Boxing Day two dismounted
squadrons began to move to the front. We had spent a pleasant holiday
that day, which of all days brings glad tidings and goodwill
throughout the civilised and Christian world; but when, hereafter, we
come to speak of the Christmas season of 1899, our stories will be
impressed with the sinister memories of the tragic events which have
for us marked the time as one of lamentation. Nothing could have been
in more complete contrast to the happiness of Christmas Day, imbued
with much real meaning to beleaguered Mafeking, than those early
morning preparations which were made as the day closed. For some
little time we have been desirous to attack the enemy's position at
Game Tree, and in my last letter I mentioned the fact that, in
anticipation of such an event, I had camped one night recently with
Captain Vernon at his western outpost. That attack, however, did not
take place, and, although the town and garrison were disappointed,
there was a very strong feeling that it would not be long before they
were compensated for their disappointment.

Game Tree, against which our force moved, is a strongly fortified
position of the enemy, about two miles from the town, and it has been
from this spot that our front to the north-west has been subjected to
a persistent rifle and artillery fire during many weeks. The attack
was ordered for the purpose of breaking the cordon around Mafeking,
with a view to ultimately reopening our communications to the north. D
and C Squadrons of the Protectorate Regiment, under the Imperial
Service officers, Captain Vernon, of the King's Royal Rifles, and
Captain Fitzclarence, of the Royal Fusiliers, were detailed to carry
out the attack from the east, under the protection of the armoured
train, and Captain Williams and twenty men of the British South Africa
Police, with a one-pounder Hotchkiss and Maxim. This right flank was
further supported by Captain Cowan and seventy men of the Bechuanaland
Rifles, the whole of the wing being under the command of Major Godley.
The left wing comprised three seven-pounders, one cavalry Maxim, and a
troop of the Protectorate Regiment under Major Panzera; Captain Lord
Charles Bentinck with two troops of A Squadron holding the reserve.
The entire operations from this side were conducted by Colonel Hore.
Colonel Baden-Powell and his staff--Major Lord Edward Cecil, Chief
Staff Officer, Captain Wilson, A.D.C., and Lieutenant the Hon. A. H.
C. Hanbury-Tracy--watched the progress of the fight from Dummie Fort.

Our guns moved into position during the night, throwing up
emplacements for the attack, and as soon as they could see, Major
Panzera opened fire. It was yet dark, although there came a faint
glimmer of light from the east, but not sufficient to prevent the
flashes from the muzzles of the guns and the glow of the bursting
shells from being plainly visible. Until that moment there had been no
sign of any living thing about the veldt between us and the Boer
lines, and there was no sound. We had seen C and D Squadrons creeping
to their positions under the guidance of the scout Cooke. Captain Lord
Charles Bentinck had deployed across the front of the Boer position,
taking up his place upon the left of the line. Close to him and but
little in advance, the gunners had ensconced themselves behind a few
sods of earth and sacks of sand. These operations marked the
preliminary of the fight, from which, as the armoured train steamed to
its post, completing the units in our attack, nothing had been omitted
which might increase our chances of success.

At 4.15 a.m. our first shells were thrown upon the enemy's position,
the shells bursting short and beyond Game Tree with no very striking
effect. Upon the left of Game Tree and extending to the receding wall
of the fort, some sixty yards distant, there was a heavy overgrowth of
bushes, upon which, as the enemy seemed to be firing from concealed
pits in their midst, the cavalry Maxim concentrated its fire. Away to
the right there was the automatic rattle of the Maxim in the armoured
train, and the sharp crack of the Hotchkiss. For the first
three-quarters of an hour the attack was left to Major Panzera, who,
it was hoped, would effect a breach in the parapet through the agency
of his guns. But, unfortunately, the damage inflicted upon the fort
did not materially aid the charge which our men were so soon and so
very gallantly to make, and which, when completed, revealed the fact
that Colonel Baden-Powell had also organised a frontal attack upon an
entrenched and impregnable position, with most lamentable results. A
few of the enemy were put out of action by our shrapnel shells
bursting in such a manner as to search out the interior of the fort
with their sharp-edged segments, but the strength of the fort was so
great and had been so increased during the night, that the artillery
which was available was not sufficiently heavy for our purpose, while
the wisdom of using the guns at all is eminently questionable. The
character of our attack needed a movement which was quietly delivered,
and which was in the nature of a surprise. So far as the fact is of
value, in appreciating the appalling disaster which upon that morning
befell our arms, our gunfire simply warned the garrison in the fort to
stand to their arms. There is no doubt that the employment of the guns
was a blunder in keeping with the conception of the attack. Colonel
Baden-Powell, one has to say regretfully, upon this occasion was
instrumental in bringing about quite needless loss of life. Presently,
as we watched, we could see the signal being given to the armoured
train "to cease fire," and a moment afterwards the base notes of the
steam whistle boomed forth, when, as though waiting for this signal,
"Big Ben," whose emplacement was some 6,000 yards to the south-east in
the rear, began to shell the armoured train. As the echoes of the big
gun died away, a roll of musketry from our own line and from the fort
swept across the veldt, and for a few brief moments the hail of
bullets was like the opening shower of a tropical deluge. Upon the
east Captain Vernon with C and D Squadrons had begun the charge. Their
position at this moment was in echelon--Captain Sandford with a troop
of C Squadron was upon the right extremity, with Captain Vernon in the
centre, and Captain Fitzclarence upon his left. As Captain Vernon gave
the word to charge they opened out into skirmishing order, maintaining
the while successive volleys with perfect accuracy. The advance was
well carried out; indeed, its order and style were worthy of the best
traditions of our army, and received tributes of admiration from all
the commanding officers present. As they advanced the fire of the
enemy was principally delivered from the front of the fort and the
rifle intrenchments in the scrub. For a moment it seemed as though the
face opposed to the rush of Captain Vernon and Captain Sandford was a
mere wall requiring only to be scaled for the fort to be captured.
But, when the men approached within three hundred yards of the fort,
rifles rang out from every possible point, and the ground was swept by
Mauser and Martini bullets. The men who charged through this zone of
fire suffered terribly, and the conclusion must have forced itself
upon their minds that they were going to their death. As each face of
the fort became engaged the fire of the enemy began to have a telling
effect upon our charging line. Captain Sandford was the first to fall,
mortally wounded with a bullet in the spine. He fell down, calling to
his men to continue the charge; but where he had fallen, he died. Our
men now began to drop rather rapidly, and Captain Fitzclarence was
disabled with a bullet in the thigh. His place was taken by Lieutenant
Swinburne, who at once continued the charge, that officer and
Lieutenant Bridges, of the same squadron, being among the nine who,
upon the termination of the fight, were unwounded. The ground around
the fort was becoming dotted with the figures of our wounded men,
who, although they were but an irregular soldiery, followed their
officers with the pluck and dogged determination of veterans. The
brunt of the fight now fell upon the companies under the immediate
command of Captain Vernon, who, undaunted by the impossibility of his
task, steadily fought his way forward. As they approached still
nearer, his men, undisturbed by the shower of bullets which fell about
them, cheered repeatedly, the echo of those cheers, giving rise to the
impression that the capture of the position was imminent. The steady
rush of our men, undeflected by the worst that the enemy could do, was
rapidly demoralising those who were firing from behind the loopholes
in the fort, and it may have been that, had we not had our responsible
officers shot or killed before we reached the walls of the fort, a
different story might have to be told. As it happened, when Captain
Vernon, with whom was Lieutenant Paton, steadied his men for the wild
impetuosity of the last charge, a bullet struck him in the body. For a
brief interval he stopped, but, refusing the entreaty of Lieutenant
Paton that he should fall out, he joined that officer once more in
taking the lead. From the point which they had gained the character of
the fort was seen, and the heavy fire under which it was defended
showed it to be impregnable. It rose some seven feet from the ground,
from the edges of a ditch with sides that it was almost impossible to
climb. It was certain death which stared them in the face within
twenty-five yards, but not a man was dismayed. They continued. The
ditch was before them, the fort above them, and through double tiers
of loopholes came the enemy's fire. Our men from one side of the ditch
fired point-blank at an enemy who, from behind his loophole, fired
point-blank at him. Here those who had survived until now were either
killed or wounded, and it was here that Captain Vernon was hit again,
as he, with Lieutenant Paton and the scout Cooke, whose tunic at the
end of the engagement was found to be riddled with bullets,
endeavoured to clamber into the fort. Captain Vernon and Lieutenant
Paton managed by superhuman efforts to reach the loopholes, into which
they emptied their revolvers. Their example was eagerly followed by
the few who remained, and who were shot down as they plied their
bayonets through the apertures. Here Captain Vernon, Lieutenant Paton,
Corporal Pickard, Sergeant Ross, and many others were killed. Captain
Vernon was shot in the head, the third wound which he had received
within two hundred yards. Lieutenant Paton was shot in the region of
the heart. Bugler Morgan, who was the first to ply his bayonet, was
shot in three places, but it is believed that he will live. Then a
mighty roar rose up, and we who had not taken part in the charge,
again thought that the position had been carried. But it was the
triumphant shout of the Boers, who, from the quick manner in which
they followed us in hoisting up the Red Cross flag, would seem to have
been partially demoralised by the keenness of our attack. With the
dead and dying about them, and the area of the wounded encircling the
fort, those of our men who were left fell back savagely and sullenly,
with a contempt of the enemy's fire and the desire to renew the
attack. Further assault was impossible, and, though we continued to
fire upon the position until stretcher-parties were sent out, the
fight was practically over upon our retirement. When they fell in
again, out of the sixty men that had been engaged in the charge only
nine were unwounded. Our killed were twenty-one; our wounded thirty,
of whom four have since died. There were also three who were prisoners
in the hands of the enemy.

Soon after the commencement of operations the chief staff officer gave
me permission to move forward from Dummie Fort, and I therefore rode
over to the position occupied by Captain Lord Charles Bentinck, and
afterwards to Game Tree, joining Surgeon-Major Anderson, when the Red
Cross flag was hoisted on the scene of the engagement. The heavy
vapour from the shells still impregnated the air, and hanging loosely
over the veldt were masses of grey-black and brown-yellow smoke
clouds. Boers on horseback and on foot were moving quickly in all
directions, and mounted detachments were seen advancing at a gallop
from the big laager upon the eastern front, with their rifles swung
loosely across their knees. They had been proceeding to reinforce Game
Tree Fort, upon an order from Field Cornet Steinekamp, when the
cessation of hostilities had taken place under the provisions of the
Red Cross. Game Tree Fort presented an animated picture. The enemy
thronged its walls, held noisy conversation in scattered groups, that,
breaking up in one spot, congregated the next moment in some other.
The bushes about the fort were alive with men who, with their rifles
in their hands and a few loose cartridges at their side, were prepared
at any moment to resume hostilities. The fort itself showed no traces
of the shelling, although it were impossible, from the seventy-five
yards limit, up to which we were permitted to approach, to examine it
very thoroughly. It has been claimed that the fort was strengthened
during the night, but signs were absent by which one could detect
traces of the new work, and, in view of this fact, one is disinclined
to impugn the statement of Commandant Botha, who told me that he had
been expecting the attack for the past two weeks. From where we were
the strength of the fort was very apparent, seeming altogether
unnecessary for the requirements of such a post, unless definite
information had been carried to the enemy about our plans. It may be
that the night attack which Captain Fitzclarence had led against the
Boer trenches upon the east of the town earlier in the siege had
prompted the enemy to strengthen all their positions. The fort itself
had been given a head covering of wooden beams, earth, and corrugated
iron; the entrance in the rear was blocked, and in every other way it
appeared impregnable. When the order came for our men to retire, Dr.
Hamilton proceeded from the armoured train with the Red Cross flag,
making his way to the wounded in the face of a heavy fire. But as soon
as it was recognised by the enemy that he was desirous of helping the
sufferers the firing was at once stopped, and Commandant Botha himself
apologised. The field around the Boer position at once became dotted
with similar emblems, for the character of the charge and the severity
of the fire had confined our losses within a very small radius of the
position. The scene here was intensely pathetic, and everywhere there
were dead or dying men. The Boers moved out from their trenches and
swarmed around with idle curiosity to inspect the injuries which they
had inflicted upon their foe, while a constant procession came from
the immediate precincts of the fort, bearing those of our men who had
fallen within its actual circumference. In their way they assisted us,
although for some time they would not permit the waggons of the
ambulance to approach nearer than half a mile, nor at first would
they entertain our proposal that the services of the armoured train
should be employed to facilitate the conveyance of casualties to the
base.

[Illustration: Boers Inspecting the British Killed at Game Tree Hill.]

As Surgeon-Major Anderson proceeded with his work, assisted by Dr. T.
Hayes, Dr. Hamilton and a staff of dressers, the character of the
wounds which our men had suffered gave rise to the impression that the
enemy had used explosive bullets, although it is perhaps possible that
Martini rifles fired at close range would account for the wide area of
injury on those who had been wounded. In one case a bullet in the head
had blown off rather more than half the skull; in another a small
puncture in the thigh had completely pulverised the limb; while in a
third, in which the bullet had struck just above the knee-cap, it had
raised a mass of shattered flesh and bone into a pulpy mound. With
these fearful injuries before one it was scarcely possible to believe
that the wounds inflicted had originated through the impact of Mauser
or Martini bullets. The Field Cornet, with whom I conversed at some
length, upon being shown the dreadful condition of the wounds,
admitted that at one time explosive bullets had been served out, but
that it was not possible that they could have been used that morning,
since he was convinced that that particular ammunition had already
been expended. He then produced a bandolier filled with Dum-dum
bullets, and suggested that since so much of the Mark IV. ammunition
had been taken by them from us, our men had been hit by bullets which
we ourselves had manufactured. I pointed out that this particular
ammunition had been recalled, so far as Mafeking was concerned, since
it had been found to strip in the barrel of the rifle. The Field
Cornet then said that he and his men were already aware of the
uselessness of this particular pattern of bullet, since upon many
occasions they had been hit by some curious missile from which it was
evident that the casing had stripped, and from which no injury had
been sustained. It was a strange conversation to have with a man
against whom the moment before we had been fighting, but from time to
time, as we were waiting for the wounded to be brought up, the
conversation was reopened between us.

The attitude of the Boers around us was one of stolid composure, not
altogether unmixed with sympathy. At one time almost one hundred had
assembled around those who were dressing the wounded. With their
rifles upon their backs and two bandoliers crossing each other upon
their chests, they appeared a stalwart body of men; for the most part
they were big and burly, broad in their shoulders, ponderous in their
gait, and uncouth in their appearance, combining a somewhat soiled and
tattered appearance with an air of triumph. Their clothing was an
ill-assorted array of patterns and materials, altogether incongruous
and out of keeping with the campaign upon which they were then
engaged. Some of them, with quite unnecessary brutality, had doffed
their own rifles and bandoliers, in order that they might show and
swing somewhat aggressively before our notice, the spoils of the
battlefield. In this manner they sported Lee-Metford rifles and
bandoliers containing Mark II. and Mark IV. ammunition. But for the
most part they behaved with a certain decorum, and it may be that the
weapon which they bore was the silent confirmation of the Field
Cornet's words. Here and there they made some attempt to rob the
wounded and despoil the dead, but when I remonstrated with the Field
Cornet he expressed, with every appearance of sincerity, his very keen
regret, ordering the transgressors from the field, and explaining that
he was unable to accept the responsibility for such acts, since,
although they had instructions to respect the dead, the younger men
were so unruly as to be beyond his control. The Field Cornet proceeded
to assert that the acts of his men were neither so barbarous nor so
inhuman as those which our own soldiers had committed after the battle
of Elandslaagte, where, he said, Imperial troops had stripped the body
of General de Koch, leaving him to lie upon the field wounded and
naked, and adding that we were morally responsible, and held as such
by every right-minded person in the Transvaal and Orange Free State,
for the subsequent death of the Boer general. This opinion was loudly
endorsed by a number of the enemy, who had collected around us, one of
whom stated that he had received orders from Commandant Botha to take
possession of any effects which were found upon the bodies of the
wounded or dead. I referred this man's statement to the Field Cornet,
when quite a lively altercation in Dutch ensued. The Field Cornet
denied that any such order had been given by Commandant Botha, and
that, had any orders at all been given, they referred merely to papers
and to the removal of side arms and ammunition. I pointed out to him
the bodies of five of our men whose pockets had been turned inside
out, and who were at that moment being brought up under an escort of
the enemy. He was also confronted with three wounded who declared that
they had had their personal effects stolen as they lay about the Boer
trenches, their rings taken from their fingers, and their money taken
from their pockets. The Field Cornet then promised that if any man who
had done such a thing could be identified he would be immediately
punished, while the more reputable of those who gathered round us
guaranteed, if not the restitution of the property, summary conviction
for the offenders. And in this connection it must be said that during
the course of the afternoon a Boer orderly came in, under a flag of
truce, to our lines to restore to Bugler Morgan his silver watch and
_L_3, which had been taken from him as he lay, shot through each
thigh, in the trenches of the enemy.

Very striking was the tone of harmony which characterised this
temporary intercourse upon the field of battle between Boer and
Briton. People who had been pitted against each other in mortal combat
the moment before were now fraternising with every outward sign of
decency and amity. This is doubtless due in some measure to the
strange composition of the two contending forces, since so many upon
the one side have friends and even relatives fighting against them
that it seems the most natural thing in the world for any mutual
acquaintance of one particular individual to make inquiries about his
welfare. These greetings impressed the scene with a note of
pleasantness and good feeling which was in most happy contrast to the
surroundings.




CHAPTER XXI

THE ADVENT OF THE NEW YEAR


                              MAFEKING, _January 3rd, 1900_.

New Year's Eve drew to itself much of the sentiment which is usually
associated with that event. We perhaps did not ring the old year out
and the new year in, because the sonorous clang of bells presages in
these times the advent of shells. When the enemy lay their gun upon
the town the bell at the outlook rings once; when its precise
direction has been located it peals according to the number which has
been given to that direction. Then there comes the firing-bell, by
which time all good people should have taken cover. It will be seen,
therefore, that the ringing of bells has a particular significance,
and one from which it is inappropriate and inadvisable to depart. But
our celebration of New Year's Eve was a quiet gathering of men drawn
from the various points of the town, who assembled within the shadows
of the English Church to sing a hymn and give voice to our National
Anthem. It had been raining during the evening; the air was fresh and
fragrant, and the ground was very damp. They came in their cloaks;
they carried their rifles and wore their bandoliers, since it was not
a time to chance the possibilities of an attack. There were perhaps
one hundred of them, and had it been convenient to allow a general
muster, the whole garrison would have very willingly attended. When
everything was ready the great stillness of the night was broken
gently by a prelude from the harmonium, which, dropping to a low tone,
became a mere accompaniment to the human voices. Then the volume of
music grew somewhat fuller until it carried in its depths the voices
of the singers merged into one torrent of stirring melody; then there
was a fresh pause, and as the echoes of the hymn died away, lingering
in the rafters of the building until countless spirits seemed to be
taking up the refrain, the voice of the preacher broke out in words
which manfully endeavoured to cheer the congregation. We stood and
listened, rapt with an attention which gave more to the scene than to
the exhortations of the man, and waiting for the time to sing the
National Anthem. In these moments, when one is so far from the Queen
and the capital of her great Empire, the singing of the National
Anthem has a weight and meaning much finer and much greater than that
imparted to the hymn when the words are sung at home. Presently the
voices took up the hymn, throwing into the darkness of the church some
whiteness of the dawn which will usher in the days of peace upon the
termination of the war. The National Anthem, sang amid these
surroundings, was incomparably beautiful, seeming to strengthen the
irresolute, even cheering those who were already strong, and imparting
to every one a happier frame of mind and a greater spirit of
contentment. Scenes on a smaller scale, but identical in purpose, were
enacted at almost every one of our posts, and the hour of midnight
must have borne to the watchful sentries of the enemy some slight
knowledge of the pleasing duty upon which the garrison was engaged. It
was only for a moment--just so long, indeed, as it took to sing the
verses of the anthem. Then, when this was over, the harmony of night
fell once more upon the garrison.

The New Year has brought to Mafeking and the garrison that is
beleaguered within its walls, no signs of the fulfilment of the
prophecy that relief would come by the end of December. Indeed, the
closing year of the nineteenth century was ushered in with the boom of
cannon and the fire of small arms, and in a style generally which does
not differ from any one of the many days during which the siege and
bombardment have lasted. There was no cessation of hostilities similar
to that which characterised Christmas Day; firing began at an early
hour in the morning from the enemy's artillery, and did not terminate
until the evening gun gave a few hours' peace to the town. For quite a
fortnight there has been no such heavy fire, and it would seem that,
for our especial edification, the authorities in Pretoria had sent to
the commandant of the Boer forces that are investing us, a New Year's
gift of three waggon-loads of ammunition. A new gun was also
despatched to them, and, its position being constantly shifted, its
fire has since played upon every quarter of the town. For the moment
we had attached no great importance to this new weapon, but after the
first few rounds it was discovered to be employing what are called
combustible bombs. These new shells do not usually explode, seeming to
discharge a chemical liquid which ignites upon contact with the air.
They are also filled with lumps of sulphur, and so severe might be the
damage from this new agency of destruction which the Boers have
turned against Mafeking that the most stringent orders have been
issued for any one finding these shells to see that they are
immediately buried. At present, beyond a few unimportant blazes in the
gardens of the town, no damage has been caused, while, in the
meantime, our situation here has in no way altered.

It would appear that our resistance is beginning to exasperate the
enemy, driving him to a pitch in which he is determined to respect
neither the Convention of Geneva nor the promptings of humanity.
Again, despite the innumerable warnings which he has received, for two
days in succession has he made the hospital and the women's laager the
sole object of his attentions. Yesterday the shells fell sufficiently
wide of these two places to justify the broad-minded in giving to his
artillery officers the benefit of the doubt; but to-day it is
impossible to find any extenuating circumstances whatever in his
favour, and I very much regret to have to state that through the
shelling of the women's laager many children's lives have been
imperilled, many women wounded. From time to time every effort has
been made to give to the gentler sex the most perfect immunity, but it
would seem as though we can no longer consider as safe these poor
innocent and helpless non-combatants. The children of some of the most
respected and most loyal townspeople have been killed in this manner,
just as they were romping within the trenches which encircle their
retreat. For two hours this morning the Creusot and quick-firing guns
of the enemy fired into the laager, creating scenes of panic and
consternation which it is not fitting to describe. Nine
one-hundred-pound shells burst within the precincts of that place in
the space of an hour, and in palliation of this there is nothing
whatever which can be said, since the enemy had posted a heliograph
station upon a kopje a few thousand yards distant from the point of
attack. As the big shells sped across the town to drop within the
laager beyond, the enemy's signallers heliographed their direction to
the emplacement of Big Ben. Our own signalling corps intercepted the
messages from the enemy, reading out, from time to time, the purport
of the flashes. The first shell was short, and the enemy's signallers
worked vigorously. The second was too wide. The third fell within the
laager itself, the pieces piercing, when it burst, a number of tents.
To this shot the heliograph flashed a cordial expression of approval.
These actions upon the part of the Boers, as repeatedly pointed out to
them, make it almost impossible for us to regard our foe as other than
one which is inspired with the emotions of a degraded people and the
crude cruelty and vindictive animosity of savages. Just now, when the
press of our feelings is beyond confinement, there is nothing but a
universal wish that we may speedily be relieved and so enabled to
enjoy the initiative against the Boers. When that moment comes it must
not be forgotten that we have suffered bitterly, and in a way which
must be taken as excusing any excesses which may occur.

[Illustration: The Colonel on the Look-out at Headquarters.]

As I returned from a visit to the women's laager Colonel Baden-Powell
was lying in his easy-chair beneath the roof of the verandah of the
Headquarters Office. Colonel Baden-Powell is young, as men go in the
army, with a keen appreciation of the possibilities of his career,
swayed by ambition, indifferent to sentimental emotion. In stature he
is short, while his features are sharp and smooth. He is eminently a
man of determination, of great physical endurance and capacity, and
of extraordinary reticence. His reserve is unbending, and one would
say, quoting a phrase of Mr. Pinero's, that fever would be the only
heat which would permeate his body. He does not go about freely, since
he is tied to his office through the multitudinous cares of his
command, and he is chiefly happy when he can snatch the time to escape
upon one of those nocturnal, silent expeditions, which alone calm and
assuage the perpetual excitement of his present existence. Outwardly,
he maintains an impenetrable screen of self-control, observing with a
cynical smile the foibles and caprices of those around him. He seems
ever bracing himself to be on guard against a moment in which he
should be swept by some unnatural and spontaneous enthusiasm, in which
by a word, by an expression of face, by a movement, or in the turn of
a phrase, he should betray the rigours of the self-control under which
he lives. Every passing townsman regards him with curiosity not
unmixed with awe. Every servant in the hotel watches him, and he, as a
consequence, seldom speaks without a preternatural deliberation and an
air of decisive finality. He seems to close every argument with a
snap, as though the steel manacles of his ambition had checkmated the
emotions of the man in the instincts of the officer. He weighs each
remark before he utters it, and suggests by his manner, as by his
words, that he has considered the different effects it might
conceivably have on any mind as the expression of his own mind. As an
officer, he has given to Mafeking a complete and assured security, to
the construction of which he has brought a very practical knowledge of
the conditions of Boer warfare, of the Boers themselves, and of the
strategic worth of the adjacent areas. His espionagic excursions to
the Boer lines have gained him an intimate and accurate idea of the
value of the opposing forces and a mass of _data_ by which he can
immediately counteract the enemy's attack. He loves the night, and
after his return from the hollows in the veldt, where he has kept so
many anxious vigils, he lies awake hour after hour upon his camp
mattress in the verandah, tracing out, in his mind, the various means
and agencies by which he can forestall their move, which, unknown to
them, he had personally watched. He is a silent man, and it would seem
that silence has become in his heart a curious religion. In the noisy
day he yearns for the noiseless night, in which he can slip into the
vistas of the veldt, an unobtrusive spectator of the mystic communion
of tree with tree, of twilight with darkness, of land with water, of
early morn with fading night, with the music of the journeying winds
to speak to him and to lull his thoughts. As he makes his way across
our lines the watchful sentry strains his eyes a little more to keep
the figure of the colonel before him, until the undulations of the
veldt conceal his progress. He goes in the privacy of the night, when
it be no longer a season of moonlight, when, although the stars were
full, the night be dim. The breezes of the veldt are warm and gentle,
impregnated with the fresh fragrances of the Molopo, although, as he
walks with rapid, almost running, footsteps, leaving the black blur of
the town for the arid and stony areas to the west, a new wind meets
him--a wind that is clear and keen and dry, the wind of the wastes
that wanders for ever over the monotonous sands of the desert. It
accompanies him as he walks as though to show and to whisper with
gentle gusts that it knew of his intention. It sighs amid the sentinel
trees that stand straight and isolated about the Boer lines. He goes
on, never faltering, bending for a moment behind a clump of rocks,
screening himself next behind some bushes, crawling upon his hands and
knees, until his movements, stirring a few loose stones, create a
thin, grating noise in the vast silence about him. His head is low,
his eyes gaze straight upon the camp of the enemy; in a little he
moves again, his inspection is over, and he either changes to a fresh
point or startles some dozing sentry as he slips back into town.




CHAPTER XXII

NATIVE LIFE


                             MAFEKING, _January 10th, 1900_.

During the time which has elapsed since Christmas an interesting event
has been the deposition of Wessels, the chief of the Baralongs. At a
_kotla_ of the tribe, to which the councillors and petty chiefs were
bidden by the Civil Commissioner, Mr. Bell notified the tribe of his
decision. The deposed chief, a man of no parts whatever, but one who
unfortunately reveals all the vices of civilisation, has been put upon
sick-leave, the reins of government being placed in the hands of his
two chief councillors. Wessels had been instigating his tribe to
refuse to work for the military authorities here, and through his
instrumentality it has become difficult to obtain native labour and
native runners. He told them in his amiable fashion that the English
wished to make slaves of them, and that they would not be paid for any
services which they rendered; nor would they, added he, taking
advantage of an unfortunate turn in the situation, be given any food,
but left to starve when the critical moment came. With the change
which had been adopted and which has been given the sanction of the
_kotla_, it is hoped that matters may progress more smoothly and the
tribe itself increase in prosperity. It was an interesting meeting,
and one which recalled the early days of Africa, when the authority of
the great White Queen was not a power paramount in the council
chambers of the tribes. Wessels, unwilling and assuming an air of
injured dignity, filled his place in the _kotla_ for the last time;
around him there were the chiefs of the tribe, his blood relatives,
and his councillors. Their attire was a weird mixture of effete
savagery and of the civilisation of the sort which is picked up from
living in touch with white Africa and missionary societies. Many black
legs were clothed in trousers, many black shoulders wore coats. Here
and there, as relics of the past, there was the ostrich feather in the
hat, the fly whisk, composed of the hairs from the tail of an animal,
the iron or bone skin-scraper with which to remove the perspiration of
the body. A few wore shoes upon naked feet, a few others sported
watch-chains and spoke English. At the back of the enclosure there was
a native guard who shouldered Martini-Henri rifles, elephant guns,
Sniders, or sporting rifles. A few of these were garmented with skins
of animals upon the naked body. After a stately and not altogether
friendly greeting to the man who had ordered the assembly to meet, the
reasons which had brought about the contemplated change in the head of
the tribe were stated in English and then translated by the
interpreter. The old chief snorted with disgust and endeavoured to
coerce his people to reject the demands made upon them. But they had
been made before a body of men who were capable of realising the
worthlessness of their chief, and who, under the protection of the
Imperial delegate, did not mind endorsing the suggestions and
expressing their opinions. The younger and more turbulent, who
recognised, in the failings of the chief, follies dear to their own
hearts, were inclined to express sympathy for the man who was so soon
to be compelled to relinquish the sweets of office. They spoke at once
in an angry chatter and confused chortle of sounds, which, if
eloquent, were wholly insufficient. The chief then threw himself back
upon his chair, spat somewhat contemptuously, and finally acquiesced
in the decision, obtaining some small consolation from the fact that
his official allowance would not be discontinued. Then the _kotla_
ended, and the indunas rose up and left, standing together in animated
groups around the palisades, for the discussion of the scene in which
they had just taken part. Then, as the decision spread throughout the
tribe, children and women, young and old, banded together to watch
these final indabas.

The scene had been solemn enough beneath the _kotla_ tree, but outside
the natural instinct of these children of the veldt soon asserted
itself, and they began to dance. They formed into small groups of
about forty, to the sound of hand-clapping, a not unmusical intoning,
and much jumping and stamping of feet. It would seem that they were
dancing an old war-dance which had degenerated into one symbolical of
love and happiness. Around the joyous groups the old crones
circulated, clapping their withered hands, shrieking delight in
cracked voices, and generally encouraging the festivity. The dance was
curious, and appeared to catch echoes of many lands. There was the
diffident maiden, anxious to be loved, but bashful, modest in her
manner and in her gestures, until she saw the man that could thrill
her; then she glowed, and her steps were animated, buoyant, and
caressing. A smile irradiated her face, while a slight, almost
imperceptible, movement pulsed through her body. Behind her were her
companions, the same age as herself, who imitated her with feverish
sympathy, instinctively reproducing her moods of body and of mind. The
vibration that stole through the bodies of the dancers increased
gradually until, from statues with wicked eyes, full of sensuous
expression and amorous allurement, they wavered like thin flames of
love in a gust of passion. As the potency of their feelings grew
steadily stronger, they swayed in languorous movements, throwing out
sinuous arms, their feeble faces smiling, their graceful bodies
bending in eager attitudes of expectation. The air became heavy with
noise, thick with a veritable tumult, as the dancers jumped more
wildly; now they threw themselves into postures in the circle,
shifting rapidly with tiny screams of delight and a gliding, clinging
motion of their arms and legs as though, coy and eager, they would
escape the cherished caresses of their lovers. As they glided, their
actions seemed always to be marked with the same regularity, with the
same regard to rhythm, and with an innate conception of grace. When
they shook their bodies it was with an abandonment that was, at least,
graceful; if they stood, rocking in a sea of easy emotion, as though
victorious, they would hug their capture with an air of conquest which
was delightful to behold. As they rose to the pinnacle of their
happiness, when their countenances were suffused with love and
tenderness, they infused into their emotions an appearance of sadness.
It was as though a cloud had suddenly fallen upon them, revealing to
them that their endearments had been abortive, that their ambitions
were not to be realised and that they themselves had been flouted.
Then there stole upon them the incarnation of sorrow, in which,
finding themselves alone, uncared for, unconsidered, they resolved, in
a burst of artificial tears, to have done with giddiness, and to take
up with the delights of placid domesticity. Then the dance terminated,
she, who had by her graceful contortions and sympathetic bearing moved
her audience to laughter and tears first, being considered the
victorious. Thus did these simple natives celebrate the new era.

If dancing be one form of amusement here, the siege has also brought
the means and opportunity of indulging in a pastime of quite a
different character. If sniping be the rule by day, cattle raiding by
night gives to the natives some profitable employment. During last
night the Baralongs secured, by a successful raid, some twenty-four
head of cattle, and in the course of last week another raiding
detachment looted some eighteen oxen. The native enjoys himself when
he is able to participate in some cattle-raiding excursion to the
enemy's lines, and, although the local tribe may not have proved of
much value as a unit of defence, their success at lifting the Boer
cattle confers upon them a unique value in the garrison. We were
deploring the poorness of the cattle which remained at our disposal
only a few days ago, but the rich capture which these natives have
made has given us a welcome change from bone and skin to juicy beef.
These night excursions are eagerly anticipated by the tribe, and
almost daily is the consent of the Colonel sought in relation to such
an object. During the day the natives who have been authorised by
Colonel Baden-Powell to take part in the raid approach as near to the
grazing cattle as discretion permits, marking down when twilight
appears the position of those beasts that can be most readily detached
from the mob. Then, when darkness is complete, they creep up, divested
of their clothes, crawling upon hands and knees, until they have
completely surrounded their prey. Then quietly, and as rapidly as
circumstances will allow them, each man "gets a move on" his
particular beast, so that in a very short space of time some ten or
twenty cattle are unconsciously leaving the main herd. When the
raiders have drawn out of earshot of the Boer lines they urge on their
captures, running behind them and on either side of them, but without
making any noise whatsoever. As they reach their stadt, their approach
having been watched by detached bodies of natives, who, lying
concealed in the veldt, had taken up positions by which to secure the
safe return of their friends, the tribes go forth to welcome them, and
when the prizes have been inspected and report duly made to
Headquarters they celebrate the event with no little feasting and
dancing. Upon the following day merriment reigns supreme, and for the
time the siege is forgotten.




CHAPTER XXIII

BOMBAST AND BOMB-PROOFS


                             MAFEKING, _January 20th, 1900_.

Yesterday we completed the first hundred days of our siege, and when
we look back beyond the weeks of our investment into those earlier
days it is difficult to realise the trials and difficulties which we
have undergone, and to believe that the period which has elapsed has
witnessed the inauguration of a new era for South Africa. In those
early days when we first came here Mafeking was a flourishing
commercial centre, contented with its position, proud of its supremacy
over other towns, and now, perhaps, if outwardly it be much the same,
its future is impressed with only the faint echo of its former
greatness. The town itself has not suffered very much; here and there
its area has been more confined for purposes of defence, while the
streets and buildings bear witness to the effects of the bombardment.
Houses are shattered, gaping holes in the walls of buildings, furrows
in the roads, broken trees, wrecked telegraph poles, and that general
appearance of destruction which marks the path of a cyclone are the
outward and visible signs of the enemy's fire. We shall leave in
Mafeking a population somewhat subdued and harassed with anxiety for
their future, since the public and private losses will require the
work of many anxious years before any restoration of the fallen
fortunes can be effected. The pity of it is that all this distress
might have been so easily avoided, and would have been, had the
authorities in Cape Town and at home taken any heed of the very
pressing messages which were despatched daily to them; but it was
decreed that Mafeking should shift for itself for so long as it was
able, and then--surrender. This, however, did not meet with the
approval of Colonel Baden-Powell, with the result that we are still
fighting and still holding our own. We have even achieved some little
place in the sieges of the world, and our present record has already
surpassed many of the more prominent sieges. But there is not much
consolation to be gained from contemplating the position which we may
eventually take up in the records of famous sieges, and, truth to
tell, there is such glorious uncertainty about the date of our relief
that it is perhaps possible that we may surpass the longest of
historic sieges. At one time we confidently anticipated that the siege
would be over in ten days. This, however, was in the days of our
youth; since then we have learned wisdom, and eagerly seize
opportunities of snapping up any unconsidered trifles in the way of
bets which lay odds upon our being "out of the wood" in another month.
Events are moving so slowly below that it does not seem as though we
shall be relieved by the end of February. The relief column, which a
month ago appeared almost daily in "Orders," is now no longer
mentioned in polite society, although there be little reason to doubt
that, at some very remote date, the troops may make their appearance
here.

The early part of November witnessed the first attempt of the
Commissariat to control the stocks of provisions in the town. All
persons holding stocks of Kaffir corn, meal, crushed meal, yellow
mealies, and flour, were ordered to declare the quantities and price
at which they would be willing to dispose of them to the authorities.
Captain Ryan, the Commissariat officer, was an energetic and
painstaking individual, whose aim was to prove his department a
financial success, and so rigidly did he adhere to this resolve that
the questions involved by the Commissariat became amongst the most
important of the siege. Traders claimed that the economy of the
situation gave them a siege profit, since, as the Government had not
been shrewd enough to lay down stores, those who had done this at
their own risk, and upon their own initiative, should be permitted, at
least, to make a margin of profit in proportion to the prices which
they could obtain for their goods. This contention, however, was not
upheld by the Commissariat officer, who at once became the best hated
man in Mafeking. Oddly enough, although the Government would not allow
the merchants to reap the profit, they themselves, in virtue of the
expense in connection with the issue of rations, were not above
charging these expenses to prime cost, and so exorbitantly increasing
themselves the retail price of the articles which they had taken over.
What was perhaps the most objectionable feature in the findings of the
Commissariat Department was that the merchant himself who disposed of
his goods to the Government at a ruling which allowed but the profit
incidental to the transaction of business in times of peace, was
compelled to buy back, when he required goods of that particular
variety, at the price which the Government had placed upon them.
This, of course, seemed to the people unfair, and they were quite
unable to obtain any satisfactory explanation of such procedure;
satisfactory because the reasons vouchsafed assumed the right of the
Government to a certain profit, denying, however, that rate in the
same ratio of proportion to the individual. Among the chief obstacles
against which Captain Ryan had to contend was the maintenance of the
daily bread ration, since the supply of flour, of mealie meal, of
oats, was not particularly great. There were many experiments made
with the bread, but those which were most unsatisfactory failed
because it had been found difficult to sift the husks from the oats
once the oats had been crushed. While the issue of this particular
bread lasted symptoms of acute dysentery prevailed, and in order to
prevent an epidemic of dysentery from breaking out the Commissariat
were compelled to adopt other methods of treatment. The bread
eventually developed into a weighty circular brown biscuit, weighing
anything under six ounces, about nine inches in circumference. These
particular biscuits were less spiky, and less liable to create acute
inflammation. They were issued to the entire garrison, excepting those
who had been permitted to draw an invalid ration of white bread, and
were preserved in many cases as mementoes of the siege. Although we
have food enough to last several months this precaution is necessary,
as when the siege is raised many weeks must elapse before supplies can
come in. The garrison has been put upon a scale of reduced
rations--1/2 lb. of bread, 1/2 lb. of meat per day. The reductions in
bread took place in the early part of the year, while the orders in
relation to the meat supply were issued during this week. Matches and
milk are prohibited from public sale, and the latest order prevents
the shops from opening. All supplies of biscuits, tea, and
sugar--preserves also--have been commandeered. The shop-keepers and
the hotel proprietors, and indeed anybody who can find any possible
excuse for doing so, have trebled the price of their goods, pleading
that the inflation is due to the siege. Accordingly, meal and flour
have jumped from 27s. per bag to 50s.; potatoes, where they exist at
all, are L2 per cwt.; fowls are 7s. 6d. each; and eggs 12s. per dozen.
Milk and vegetables can no longer be obtained, and rice has taken the
place of the latter among the menus. These figures mark the rise in
the more important foodstuffs as sold across the counter, but the
hotels have, in sympathy, followed the example, they, upon their part,
attributing it to the increase which the wholesale merchants have
decreed. A peg of whisky is 1s. 6d., dop brandy 1s., gin 1s., large
stout is 4s., small beer 2s. In ordinary times whisky retails at 5s.
per bottle. This rate has now advanced to 18s. per bottle and 80s. per
case. Dop, which is usually 1s. 4d., is now 12s. per bottle; the
difference upon beer is almost 200 per cent., and inferior cigarettes
are now 18s. per hundred. Upon an inquiry among the publicans here, I
was informed that the chief reason for the increase in their prices
was to hinder the local soldiery from becoming intoxicated; this
sudden regard for the moral welfare of the garrison on the part of the
saloon keepers is however, oddly at variance with their earlier
practices, and is in reality the flimsy pretext by which they seek to
condone an almost unwarrantable act. Hitherto the constantly recurring
evils arising from the sale of drink to soldiers and others performing
military duties, have been openly encouraged by the hotel
proprietors, who, although they now profess a fine appreciation for
the moral obligations attached to their trade when prices are high and
profits great, took no very serious steps at the outset to allay what
was becoming a very serious menace to the community. Moreover, the
hotels have demanded from such people as war correspondents and others
brought here through business connected with the siege, rates which
are far in advance of the ordinary tariffs, with equally preposterous
demands for native servants and horse-feed. Indeed, whatever Mafeking
may lose through the absence of business with the Transvaal, many will
receive ample compensation from the high prices by which those who are
able, are endeavouring to recoup themselves, and in a way which it is
not possible to consider other than extortionate. Stores of all kinds
are, however, rapidly giving out, and it would not have been possible
for Mafeking to have sustained the siege so long had not the
Government contractor, upon his own initiative, laid in far greater
stocks of provisions than were provided for by his contract, and in
this respect every credit should be given to the commercial foresight
and sagacity by which these arrangements were inspired. For everything
which is in daily want, in fact for the bare necessities of life upon
the existing scale of reduced rations, Mafeking now depends upon the
stores and bonded warehouse which represent the local branch of the
contracting firm, Messrs. Julius Weil & Co. In their hands lies the
issuing of the daily allowances of bread and meat to the garrison, of
the forage for the horses, of the feeding of the natives. Indeed,
there seemed no end to the resources of this house. When the siege
began, had there been no Weil, the Government stocks would not have
lasted two months, and, moreover, they did not know that the Weils had
laid in these stores--a fact which again establishes how very meagre
were the preparations made for the siege. Therefore, when the time
comes to give honour to whom honour is due, notice should be taken of
the important _role_ which this firm has fulfilled during the siege of
Mafeking.

The siege drags on, however, the days seeming to be an endless
monotony in which there is absolutely nothing to sustain one's
interest. Week by week we make a united and laborious attempt to whip
our flagging energies into some activity. It is a hideous spectacle,
but this Sunday celebration reveals how very trying has become the
situation. The military authorities have been at their wits' end to
find amusement for the garrison, and this effort has developed into a
Sabbatarian charade in which we all assume an active co-operation, and
try to think that we are having a very giddy and even gushing time.
Colonel Baden-Powell, in this respect, makes an admirable
stage-manager. Authors, scenic artists, stage hands, scene shifters,
there are, of course, none; but in the middle of the week the Chief
Staff Officer becomes the town crier, crying lustily, by means of
proclamation, that, by the grace of God, upon the coming Sunday there
will be a golf match or baby show, a concert or polo match, even some
attempt at amateur theatricals. The Sunday respite is, however,
immensely appreciated, and, indeed, it is a very welcome panacea to
our siege-strung nerves. Where in England you people are saying, "Oh,
bother Sunday," "How like a Sunday," we say, "Thank God it is Sunday,"
implying, for that day in seven, a period of absolute rest and no
little contentment. We are warriors on Sunday: bold, bad, and brave.
We have our horses out on Sunday and take a toss as elegantly as we
take our neighbour's money at cards in the evening, when fortune
favours. We drink, we accept one another's invitations to meals of
unsurpassing heaviness; we even invite ourselves to one another's
houses. We drink, we eat, we flirt, we live in every second of the
hours which constitute the Sunday, and upon the passing of the day it
is as though we had entered into another world. As midnight arrives,
we hasten back to our trenches filled with the good things of the day,
even with the zest to penetrate the mysteries of another week of
siege. In the morning we stand-to-arms at four o'clock, not because
there is any special purpose for doing so, but rather that we may
satisfy ourselves that we are soldiers; and then the labour of the day
begins, and for six more days we stand-to-arms and wonder when the
devil the enemy are coming on. We are very brave then, and at times we
take ourselves so seriously that into each breast there comes the
spirit of the Commander-in-Chief. Then we criticise the war, talk
fatuously of what we would do, struggle somewhat ingloriously with the
archaic jargon of the army, until, if our speech betrays our
ignorance, we, nevertheless, make a mighty lot of noise. Then we are
satisfied, though doubtless each thinks the other somewhat of a fool.

To the man who looks on at all this, the gradual change which has come
over the garrison is plainly discernible. In the beginning, when the
Boers made war upon us, there was a contempt for bomb-proofs; there
was a contempt for many other things besides, since each individual
knew better than his Post Commander, and did not hesitate to tell him
so, or rather to imply that he had told him so; but the scorn of
bomb-proofs was mightier than the sword. In those days we feared
nothing beyond mosquitoes and the creeping things of earth, but the
change came silently, and although few people commented upon it, the
transformation was completed within the first month of the siege. It
grew, as it were, in a single night, from a village of mud-walled
houses into one in which every other man owned something of a dug-out.
For the first few days, while scorn of dug-outs was rife, he who built
himself a haven kept it to his inner conscience, recalling it, when
its existence was forced upon him, with something of an apologetic
air. Thus we existed; then the staff built an underground room, and
upon the Sunday that followed this momentous event many there were who
visited it, and who, gathering wrinkles, went quietly to their gardens
and did likewise. Thus insidiously came the transformation, and
although there are still a few who talk disparagingly of these
bomb-proof shelters, their faces wear an anxious look when the enemy
are shelling, and strangely enough, as the fire waxes hotter, they
easily find excuses to visit friends, lingering, the while, in the
congenial gloom of their host's dug-out.

So greatly have ideas expanded upon this subject that at one of the
hotels an underground dining-room is in course of construction. This
is at Riesle's, whose proprietor, at last, has been induced to build
his boarders--mostly war correspondents--a dug-out, since he had given
places of shelter to the servants, to his native boys, and to his
family, seemingly thinking that since the boarders kept the hotel
going they could very easily shift for themselves. But then that is
always the creed of the publican. These dug-outs are large
excavations some ten by fourteen feet and seven feet deep, upon which
there is placed a layer of iron rails which are procured from the
railway yard; over these there is usually a layer of thick wooden
sleepers, which again are covered over with sheets of corrugated iron.
The earth from the hole is then piled up on this, and, after the
dug-out has been inspected by the Town Commandant it is considered
safe for habitation; a few cases and chairs equip it with certain
accommodation, although there are a few into which trestle beds have
been placed. It is not very healthy passing days and nights in these
inverted earthworks, but it is eminently safe, and has been the sole
means afforded us for escaping the enemy's fire. Fortunately the Boers
have made no attempt to advance upon the town under cover of their
guns, for if they did so we should have to stand-to-arms and face the
music of the flying splinters. Every post has been supplied with one
of these underground retreats, and quite the larger proportion of the
townspeople have constructed private shelters for themselves.




CHAPTER XXIV

SOME SNIPING AND AN EXECUTION


                             MAFEKING, _January 31st, 1900_.

In itself the situation has not developed over much, but in relation
to the siege there are two tragedies to chronicle. The Boers are still
investing us, in more or less the same numbers, and with but little
difference in the strength of their artillery. Sometimes we miss an
individual piece, judging from its absence that it has been sent north
to reinforce the Dutch who are endeavouring to circumvent the
movements of Colonel Plumer's column. However, these periodical
journeys of the five-pounder Krupp, the one-pounder Maxim, or the
nine-pounder quick-firing Creusot do not last for any great time, and,
as a matter of fact, Commandant Snyman has not permitted himself to be
deprived of any one piece of artillery for much longer than a week.
The garrison here, jumping at conclusions in the absence of any
definite news, finds in these disappearances some slight consolation,
since we at once affirm that Colonel Plumer must have arrived at some
point in which the presence of the enemy's artillery is urgent and
necessary.

[Illustration: War Correspondents and their Bomb-proof Shelters.]

The gun which we would very gladly spare is the one hundred-pounder
Creusot, whose occasional removal from one emplacement to another is a
source of much anxiety to every one in the garrison. In the beginning
of the siege--a date which is now very remote--"Big Ben" hurled its
shells into this unfortunate town from an emplacement at Jackal Tree.
In those days it was almost four miles distant, and we took but little
notice of a gun which flung its projectiles from such a distant range.
Those were the days in which we dug holes by night, and speculated
rather feebly during the day upon the resisting power of the
protection which we had thus thrown up. But the gun moved then to the
south-eastern heights, a matter of barely 4,000 yards from the town,
and of sufficient eminence to dominate every little corner. Those were
the days in which we dug a little deeper and went round trying to
borrow--from people who would not lend--any spare sacks, iron
sleepers, or deals, so that our bomb-proofs might be still further
strengthened. However, as time passed, we even got accustomed to the
gun in its new position, and, much as ever, there were many who felt
inclined to promenade during lapses in the enemy's shell fire. Now,
however, this wretched gun has again been moved, and, according to
those who know the country, is within two miles of the town--a little
matter under 3,000 yards.

In accordance with the fresh position of the Creusot gun we have been
compelled to extend our eastern defences in order that we may, at
least, direct an artillery fire upon their advanced trenches. To the
north-east and south-east we have put forward our guns and to the
south-east have increased a detachment of sharpshooters, who, from a
very early date in the siege, have occupied a position in the
river-bed. These men are only two hundred yards from the sniping posts
of the Boers, and through the cessation of hostilities upon Sundays,
they have grown to recognise one another. Sunday has thus also brought
to the snipers an opportunity of discovering what result their mutual
fire has achieved during the week, and, when from time to time a
figure is missing, either side recognise that to their marksmanship,
at least, that much credit is due. Among the Boers who occupied the
posts in the brickfields were many old men, one of whom, from his
venerable mien, his bent and tottering figure, his long white beard,
and his grey hair, was called grandfather. He had become so identified
with these posts in the brickfields that upon Sundays our men would
shout out to him, some calling him Uncle Paul, others grandfather, and
when the old fellow heard these remarks he would turn and gaze at our
trench in the river-bed, wondering possibly, as he stroked his beard,
brushed his clusters of hair from his forehead, or wiped his brow,
what manner of men those snipers were. He has been known to wave his
hat when in a mood more than usually benign; then we would wave our
hats and cheer, while he, once again perplexed, would, taking his pipe
from his pocket, slowly retrace his steps to his trench. The old man
was a remarkably good shot, and from his post has sent many bullets
through the loopholes in our sandbags. He would go in the early
morning to his fort and he would return at dusk, but in the going and
coming he, alone of the men who were opposing us, was given a safe
passage. One day, however, as the Red Cross flag came out from the
fort, we, looking through our glasses, saw them lift the body of
grandfather into the ambulance. That night there was a funeral, and
upon the following day we learnt that he had been their best marksman.
For ourselves, we were genuinely sorry.

Yesterday there occurred another of those acts of war which illustrate
in such a very striking fashion the silent tragedies which are
enacted, and with which perforce many unwilling people are connected,
during the progress of a campaign. There are, of course, many issues
to the career of a soldier, and perhaps not the least important of
these is the arduous and very dangerous task of collecting
intelligence. In the ranks of society, men who are known to be spies
are regarded with silent contempt, and ostracised from the circle of
their acquaintances, so soon as their calling is ascertained; but the
duties of a military spy differ in almost every respect from the
individual who becomes a social reformer. In the field the military
spy carries his life in his hand, since his capture implies an almost
immediate execution without any possibility of reprieve. Last night
such an occurrence took place at sundown, when, as the sun sank to its
setting, a native, who had been caught within our lines, and who
confessed to be an emissary of the Boers, was taken out and shot.

The spy was a young man, and a native of the stadt, which is a portion
of Mafeking, and one who had accepted the work of carrying information
to the enemy because he did not sufficiently realise the punishment
which would fall upon him, were he to be captured. His instructions
from the Boers had been remarkably explicit, and the sphere of his
activities embraced our entire position. He was to visit the forts,
counting the number of men, and taking special notice of those to
which guns had been attached. He was to report upon the strength of
the garrison, the condition of our horses, the supplies of
foodstuffs, and he was to stay within Mafeking for about ten days. He
was captured a fortnight ago, as he was creeping in, snatching cover
from the bushes and rocks which spread over the south-eastern face of
the town. When he was caught, as though momentarily realising the
possibilities of his fate, he at first refused to say who he was,
whence he came, or what had been his purpose. However, among the
native patrol that had so successfully surprised him were some who
knew him, whereupon he stated that he was simply returning to the
stadt. In the earlier part of the siege almost every native who came
across the lines gave this same excuse, until the suspicion was forced
upon us that the Baralongs were acting in conjunction with the enemy.
However, this was not proved to be the case, the chief repudiating the
suggestion and disclaiming any authority over those natives who
happened to be beyond the lines at the outbreak of the war.
Nevertheless, it had been impossible to prevent the Boers receiving
information through native sources, and for the future, there remained
no alternative but that which implied the immediate execution of
captured spies. An increase in the Cossack posts at night somewhat
checked the mass of information which was carried to the Boers across
our lines, and in an earlier instance, when a native came in from the
Boer camp and said that the big gun had been taken away that morning
upon a waggon, he was given the benefit of forty-eight hours' grace,
with the understanding that, should the gun fire during that period,
he would be at once sentenced to death. For a day this man watched the
emplacement of the big gun, and twenty-four hours passed without
Mafeking receiving any shells from it. The day following was half
over, and it was about noon, when the Boers disproved the story which
they had instructed their spy to tell, and fired into the town. The
man then confessed that his errand had been inimical, and that he
himself was hostile to our interests. At dusk the sentence of the
Summary Court of Jurisdiction was carried out, and that spy was shot.
But this other at no time seemed to understand the gravity of his
offence, and when we captured him he informed his captors and the
Court that he himself had meant no harm. However, he confessed,
endeavouring to minimise his offence by showing that at the moment of
his capture he had gathered no information, yet his pleas were futile,
and he at last seemed to understand that his doom was sealed. From
then, as he returned to the prison to await the execution of his
sentence, he said nothing more.

Last night the shooting party came for him, marching him to a secluded
point upon the south-eastern face, and there they halted him, a silent
figure in a wilderness of rock and scrub. Around him there was the
scene of the veldt at eventide. There was the gorgeous, flaming
sunset, its ruddy gold turning the azure of the sky to clouds of
purple, pale orange, and a deeper blue. Here and there the heavens
were flecked with fleecy clouds, which gambolled gently before the
breeze. In the distance lay the green-clad veldt, simmering a russet
brown beneath the glories of the sunset. At our feet it sloped,
breaking into rocky sluits, banked up with bushes; over all there was
the zephyr, tempering the heat. It was a moment meant for rejoicing in
the beauty of earth's loveliness rather than for dimming it with the
sadness of some crimson act. Presently we arrived, and as we bent
across the <DW72> the blood-red stream of passing sunlight played
around the shallow heap of earth, thrown out from this man's final
resting-place. It was visible, much as were the deeper shadows of the
excavation some seventy yards away, when, as though wishing to spare
the prisoner, his eyes were bandaged by the officers of the party.
With that a sudden silence fell upon us, and each seemed to feel that
he were walking within the shadows of the valley of death. The
prisoner, supported on either arm, stumbled in the partial blindness
of the bandage, seeming, now that his last hour was at hand, to be
more careless, more light-hearted than any of the party. Then we
halted, and he was asked whether there were anything further which he
wished to say, and he was warned for the last time. He shook his head
somewhat defiantly, but his lips moved, and in his heart one could
almost hear the muttered curses. Then for a space he stood still, and
a few yards distant, in fact some ten paces, the firing party formed
across his front. There were six of them, with a corporal and the
officer in command of the post, and there was that other, who in a
little was to pay the penalty of his crime. There was a moment of
intense silence as we waited for the sun to set, in which the nerves
seemed to be but little strings of wire, played upon by the emotions.
Unconsciously, each seemed to stiffen, as we waited for the word of
the officer, feeling that at every pulsation one would like to shriek
"Enough, enough!" As we stood the prisoner spoke, unconscious of the
preparations, and the officer approached him. He wanted, he said, to
take a final glance at the place that he had known since his
childhood. His prayer was granted, and as he faced about, the bandage
across his eyes was, for a few brief minutes, dropped upon his neck.
In that final look he seemed to realise what he was suffering. The
stadt lay before him, the place of his childhood, the central pivot
round which his life had turned, bathed in a sunset which he had often
seen before, and which he would never see again. There were the cattle
of his people, there were the noises of the stadt, the children's
voices, the laughter of the women, and there was the smoke of his camp
fires. It was all his once--he lived there and he was to die there,
but to die in a manner which was strange and horrible. Then he looked
beyond the stadt and scanned the enemy's lines. Tears welled in his
eyes, and the force of his emotion shook his shoulders. But again he
was himself: the feeling had passed, and he drew himself erect. Then
once more the bandage was secured, and he faced about. The sun was
setting, and as the officer stepped back and gave his orders, a
fleeting shudder crossed the native's face. Bayonets were fixed, the
men were ready and the rifles were presented. One gripped one's palms.
"Fire!" said the officer. Six bullets struck him--four were in the
brain.




CHAPTER XXV

LIFE IN THE BRICKFIELDS


                             MAFEKING, _February 3rd, 1900_.

The main occupation of the garrison just now is to speculate upon the
progress of the work of trench-building, which is being rapidly pushed
forward in the brickfields upon the south-eastern face of the town. It
is eminently a safe occupation, since our activity in that quarter is
absorbing the almost undivided attentions of the enemy in the adjacent
trenches, and therefore giving to the town an enjoyable and protracted
respite from rifle fire. This, however, exists throughout the day
only, since night is made hideous and uncomfortable by the heavy fire
which the enemy turn upon it, and which is returned, with very
pleasing promptitude, by the town forts and the occupants of the
trenches in the brickfields. The area of war, localised thus as it is
in the brickfields, is an interesting testimony to the progress of our
arms here in Mafeking. We began the siege by abandoning this position
and with it the very excellent sniping opportunities it gave to the
Boers. The 8,000 men that Commandant Cronje had with him in those
early days, made it impossible for our small garrison to hold, with
any prospect of success, positions so far outlying from the front of
the town. It is, however, quite a different thing to occupy those
trenches to-day, since the veldt intervening in the rear, has now been
carefully protected, and we advance not at all until the post which is
in occupation at the moment, has been securely fortified and connected
with adjacent outposts by well-covered trenches. We are now, after
almost six months' siege, some 1,700 yards in advance of the town, and
the south-eastern outposts, as these brickfield forts are called,
constitute our most outlying positions around beleaguered Mafeking.

Very gradually, and with infinite pains and labour, we have sapped
from town until the company of Cape Boys that is posted in the
"Clayhole," under Sergeant Currie, is within two hundred yards of the
Boers' main trench--a point from which one may hear at times our enemy
holding animated discussions upon his failure to capture Mafeking.
When war was first declared Commandant Cronje threw strong detachments
of sharpshooters into the brick kilns which we ourselves now hold, and
at this present moment, there is no position in those which we have
seized, that was not originally in possession of the Boers.
Innumerable traces exist of their temporary occupation, and where it
has been possible we have preserved these; so that the town itself may
at some future date be able to see the remains of the Boer investment.
These little facts give to our work here a greater significance,
insomuch that it may be assumed that an enemy who has been fortunate
enough to secure for himself a strong position, is not so foolish as
to abandon it voluntarily. This, of course, is quite the case, and
many have been the occasions when the town has been able to watch
affairs between outposts being briskly contested in these very
trenches.

[Illustration: Plan of the Brickfields.]

Nothing is quite so pleasant, so invigorating, nor quite so dangerous
as life in these brickfield posts. Inspector Marsh, Cape Police, in
whom the command of the south-eastern outposts has been invested, most
kindly permitted me to join his quarters. We are aroused in the
morning as the day breaks by a volley from the Boer trenches, and in
all probability the derisive shout, "Good morning, Mr. damned
Englishman!" to which the Cape Boys usually return the salutation of
"Stinkpots!" which is the euphonious rendering of a Dutch word
calculated to give, more especially when coming from a <DW65>, the
utmost possible offence. The day may then be said to have begun,
although, between this and any further ceremonies, there is usually a
mutual cessation of hostilities, in order that each side may enjoy a
cup of matutinal coffee. The coffee is made in town and brought out,
since orders are exceedingly strict against the lighting of fires on
outposts. Sometimes the day proves long, but usually it is one of an
exciting character, and one in which it behoves the men to move with
the utmost care. The enemy would seem to have filled their advanced
trench with a number of picked sharpshooters; for it is quite an
ordinary occurrence for them to fire, at five hundred yards range,
through our loopholes; nor are these chance shots, for there is one
man who seems to put the bullets precisely where he wishes, since, at
least once during the day, he will test the accuracy of his aim by
emptying his entire chamber through one porthole. Such sharpshooting
compels one to move with a large amount of precaution, since if so
much as a finger be shown above the top of the sandbags there is
every likelihood of it being perforated by a Mauser bullet. But if
this be the manner of our existence, the Boers do not take any risks
either, and move between their portholes with the greatest precaution,
until this system of watching one another may be said to have
developed a class of work which consists principally of lying upon
one's stomach in readiness to fire--if there should occur the
slightest opportunity.

Sometimes, if the day be quiet, we creep from trench to trench, even
venturing to the river; but upon the whole, however, there is not much
of this visiting accomplished, since the Boers have the habit of
attempting to lull us into security and then spoiling the delusion
with a well-directed volley. Recently the advanced trenches of the
Boers were so heavily reinforced that we expected an attack upon the
brickfields; in fact, one night we were almost positive that the enemy
were about to make an attempt to wrest this position from us. They did
not do so, nor have they made any night attack, since the Dutchman
does not like to meet his enemy by night, unless he himself is
ensconced safely behind some sacks and his foe in the open. Upon such
an occasion he will fire until his ammunition is expended. However, we
expected them, and although they made no advance, they poured in at
daybreak, at somewhat under four hundred yards range, a most terrific
fire. They turned upon us a 9-lb. Krupp, a 5-lb. Creusot, a 3-lb.
Maxim, and about five hundred rifles. It was an amazing morning and a
most interesting experience, while for some hours afterwards the air
seemed to ring with the droning notes of the Martinis and the sharp
crackle of the Mauser. Of course we fired back, since we never allowed
the Dutchmen to turn their guns upon us without treating the gun
emplacements and embrasures to several volleys. It is good sometimes
to impress upon the Boers the uselessness of their efforts. Out here
in these brickfields we appear to be upon the edge of a new world,
with the limits of the old one just below. Mafeking itself is only
1,700 yards distant, but the undulating ground, the rocky ridges, the
simmering heat, and the mirage give rise to the impression that the
town, of which the brickfields is the outpost, is many miles away. We
live a peaceful, almost serene existence, disturbed only by the hum of
passing bullets. There is no pettiness of spirit, no mutual
bickerings, no absurd jealousies; one does not hear anything of the
clash between the civil and military elements. That is all below us in
the little town which sits upon the rising <DW72>s with that appearance
of chaos and despair which now mark its daily existence. Black care is
not here, and thank heaven for it; for indeed a luxury beyond
comparison is the quiet and peaceful day.

Mafeking at last is siege-weary--and, oh, so hungry! It seems months
since any one had a meal which satisfied the pangs that gnaw all day.
We have been on starvation rations for so many weeks that time has
been forgotten, and now there seems the prospect of no immediate help
forthcoming! We are so sick of it, so tired of the malaria,
diphtheria, and typhoid that claim a list as great almost as that
caused by the enemy's shell and rifle fire! We ask, When will the end
be? and then we shrug our shoulders and begin to swear; for we have
such sorrows in our midst, such suffering women and such ailing
children as would turn a saint to blasphemies!

[Illustration: Cape Boys Hurling Stones at the Boers as They
Endeavoured to Rush the Sap.]




CHAPTER XXVI

FROM BAD TO WORSE


                             MAFEKING, _February 7th, 1900_.

At a moment when the entire garrison, perhaps, excluding the military
chiefs, was eagerly anticipating some announcement which would
determine the date of an immediate relief, intelligence has come to
hand, in a communication from Field-Marshal Lord Roberts himself,
informing the inhabitants of Mafeking that he expects them to hold out
until the middle of May. Since the beginning of the year the town has
lulled itself into a sense of security by endeavouring to believe that
at some early date the garrison would be relieved. But now, if it were
possible to find "a last straw" to break the spirits of the townsmen,
it is contained in the unfortunate telegram which Colonel Baden-Powell
received from Lord Roberts. To hold out until the middle of May, it
can well be longer, is to ask us to endure further privations, and to
maintain an existence in a condition which is already little removed
from starvation, and at a moment when the great majority of the
civilian combatants, if not of all classes, are "full up" of the
siege. For the past month we have been living upon horseflesh,
although at first these unfortunate animals were slaughtered only in
the interests of the foodless natives, and whatever gastronomic
satisfaction may be culled by us now in eating what in more ordinary
circumstances has done duty as a horse, it is none the less a hardship
and a damned and disagreeable dish.

The effect of the announcement has been to increase the gloom and
depression which for some weeks has been noticeable among those
civilians whose businesses have been ruined; who are separated from
and unable to communicate with their families, and who themselves have
been impressed into the defence of the town. During this state of war
they are unable to earn anything, and it is quite beyond their power
to pay even the most perfunctory attention to their businesses; but
now with this statement buzzing in the brain like an angry bee, can
they not be excused if they cry out, "Enough, enough," and feel
depressed and sick of the whole siege? Within a few weeks we shall be
entering the sixth month of the siege, and already the severity of our
daily life is beginning to tell, and indeed has already told upon
many. But now that we have come so far through the wood, when we have
fought by day and by night, when we have been sick with fever and
pressed by hunger, when we have been harassed by bad news, and the
conviction, through the absence of any cheering information, that all
was not well with us down below, it would be a monstrous misfortune if
we cannot survive the pangs of hunger and the torments of starvation
until the long-promised relief arrives in the middle of May. If we do
succeed, those who come through alive will have a tale to tell, in
which there will be much which will remain buried, since there are
experiences which, when they have been lived through, it is impossible
to talk about.

If we were only just ourselves, merely the defenders of a town against
an enemy, we could endure our privations, our short rations, and our
condemned water with even greater fortitude. The men live hard lives
in Africa, and their constitutions are strong, their nerves firm. But
they hate, as all men hate, in all parts of the world, that their
womenfolk should suffer, and here is the misery of our situation, more
especially that these gentle creatures should suffer before their own
eyes, when they themselves can do nothing for them. Aye, indeed,
there's the rub. A hard life is always hardest upon women, and, unlike
the Australasian colonies, and Canada, or the Western States of
America, and all places where women who lead colonial life have no
black labour to rely upon, the women in Africa are curiously
incapable, delegating a multitudinous variety of domestic duties to
the natives they employ. Their sphere of daily activity, so far as it
is in relation to their household, is reduced to a minimum, while
consciously or through the absence of some active pursuit by which
they could occupy their mind and exercise their bodies, their view of
life is petty and impressed with prejudices and absurd jealousies.
Moreover, they are abnormally lazy; indeed, to one who has lived in
Australasia, America, Africa, India, and elsewhere, and has experience
of life in those colonies, the lassitude and indolence of the South
African woman is one of the most striking aspects of the daily life in
Africa. In Natal this weariness is called the "Natal sickness," and in
Mafeking at the present juncture it is responsible for a great deal of
the discontent, the unwillingness to make the best of an exceedingly
trying situation.

Without the feminine element in Mafeking, the civil and military
authorities would be in better accord, but with a pack of women and
children in an insanitary laager, caring nothing for the exigencies of
the situation, firmly believing that they are oppressed by design and
deliberately maltreated, and, rising up in their wrath, smiting the
Colonel, the Chief Staff Officer, indeed, the entire Headquarters'
Staff, or any military and official unit that comes unfortunately into
contact with them, the worry and annoyance caused to the garrison at
large by their presence here at this juncture is eminently worse than
the most fearsome thing it is possible to conceive. Of course, one
sympathises in all sincerity with these unfortunate non-combatants,
for they live amid conditions which produce and promote typhoid,
malaria, and diphtheria--diseases that have been peculiarly virulent,
and from which many women and children have died.

Apart from the fatalities from shell and rifle fire, there is the list
of those who have died from the hardships which they have had to
experience. Strong men have dropped off from typhoid, women and
children contracting the same disease, or one which by its nature is
similarly fatal, have been unable to bear up. The smiling and happy
children that one knew in the early days are no longer such; they are
thin, emaciated, bloodless, and live amid conditions which have
already wrought sad havoc among their companions. The mortality among
the women and children must form part of the general conditions of the
siege, but it is peculiarly disheartening to the townsmen as they
stand to their posts and their trenches to be compelled to ponder and
to reflect sadly that the fell diseases which have killed the wives
and children of so many might, at any moment, attack those members of
their own family who are confined in the pestilential trenches of the
laager. The unfortunate condition of these poor people here, as well
as in Kimberley, has brought the suggestion to my mind that it should
not be too late for either the Commander-in-Chief, or some one
identified with his authority, to make overtures to the Boers, so that
we, and even the garrison in Kimberley, might be permitted to send, in
the one case our women and children to Bulawayo, and in the other
case, to Capetown. It could surely be arranged, and if it were
possible it would ensure a little greater happiness, a little greater
comfort, falling to the lot of these poor people, who are unable to
take, through lack of adequate remedies, the simplest precautions
against the dangers which assail their own health and the lives of
their children. But if our friends the Boers think that because of
these straits we are disheartened they make a very grievous mistake.
We propose to endure and we intend to carry the siege on until the
end. Nothing so exemplifies the true tone of the garrison and the
spirit of the men as this determination in which we one and all share
and for which we mutually agree to co-operate.

Despite the heavy burden of domestic trouble which presses down upon
the townspeople, there has been a remarkable absence of any open
friction between the civilian element and military at present gathered
in Mafeking. The military authorities should be the first to recognise
this and to appreciate the ready acquiescence and assistance which
they have received from the inhabitants of the town. That at least
they do acknowledge the importance of duties fulfilled, and the spirit
with which they have been carried out, should be a conclusion against
which it would be absurd to tilt. Nothing can underestimate the
consideration which the townspeople, under conditions adverse to their
interests, and for which the military authorities are entirely
responsible, have shown for the vigours of martial law and the present
military domination. Compensation would be so materially insufficient
that it cannot be said that any one individual has stayed here for the
purpose of receiving such emoluments as would be to him some kind of a
profit. The economy of Governmental compensation is never known to be
satisfactory--Government in its impersonal attributes being
universally recognised as a most niggardly paymaster. They therefore,
those who have stayed, apart from the delusions under which they
suffered, can be said to have remained because they wished, as
colonists, to prove their loyalty; and yet, when one looks back upon
the siege and considers carefully the manner in which they have been
imposed upon by their own Government, it is very questionable if ever
so great a test was applied to the spirit of mind and body which
constitutes allegiance to a sovereign. Fortunately the town cannot say
that it has performed more than its share of the defence work. Indeed,
for the most part the services of the townsmen have been restricted,
so far as was possible, to a connection with forts which have been
constructed upon the boundaries of the town, and have not been thrust
forward in preference to the men of the Protectorate Regiment, who,
following the profession of arms, can properly be expected to bear the
brunt of the fighting. It was thought at one time that the strange
assortment of human nature which had collected in or was drawn to
Mafeking might be difficult of management; but mixed as is the
population here at present, the doubtful element, which is one that
sympathising with the enemy might create dissatisfaction among others,
has been singularly subdued. There are many instances here in Mafeking
of men who have taken up arms in defence of the town in which their
business and their domestic ties are centred, and who, to do this,
have had to fight against their own blood relatives. We have had
therefore, in a sense, many men who, while apparently loyal and
engaged in manning the trenches, were yet under constant supervision,
lest they should give way to their feelings and too openly proclaim
their sympathies with the Boer cause; but there have been few
desertions, and affairs in general between Englishman and Dutchman,
between the civilian and military, have passed off with greater
harmony than was altogether anticipated. Mistrust between Englishmen
of pronounced Imperial sympathies and colonials suspected of Dutch
leanings has been the cause of a certain amount of jealousy, which
tended to make the defence of Mafeking a work of, by no means, a
pleasant nature. However much this feeling of difference, creating and
causing in itself an acute tension between the pro-Imperial and the
colonial, has given rise to, or has been the sole cause of, any
ill-feeling which may have marked the relations between the civil and
military, it has at no time assumed proportions grave enough to foster
the opinion that its prevalence might endanger in time the commonweal
of the inhabitants and threaten with strife the daily intercourse of
the various units in the garrison.




CHAPTER XXVII

THE FIRST ATTACK UPON THE BRICKFIELDS


                            MAFEKING, _February 14th, 1900_.

In the history of the siege of Mafeking there should stand forth an
event as remarkable to posterity, if, perhaps, not quite so
historical, as the famous ball which was given by the Duchess of
Richmond on the eve of Waterloo. It may be, indeed, a trite
comparison, since its only relationship is contained in the fact that
the officers were called away to the field of battle; but, with so
much uncertainty in European circles upon the conditions of the
garrison, this fact and its issues tend to show the spirit with which
the town is sustaining its precarious existence. Although we have some
3,000 Boers around us, with twelve different varieties of artillery,
and despite the steady increase in fatalities from shot and shell
which marks each day, we can yet stimulate our flagging spirits to a
pitch in which a ball is accepted and welcomed as an essential to the
conditions of the siege. A mere detail, yet one of sufficiently
striking importance and showing how very sombre and how serious is the
daily situation, will perhaps be found in the postponement of this
ball from Saturday night until the succeeding evening--a proceeding
which was rendered necessary by the death of a popular townsman from
a 100-pound shell in the course of the previous morning. Recent
Sundays have revealed a tendency, upon the part of the enemy, to
ignore that generous and courteous concession to a beleaguered
garrison which General Cronje granted, by professing his willingness
to observe the Sabbath, insomuch that the Boers have maintained rifle
fire until 5 in the morning, commencing again at any moment after 9
o'clock at night. This Sunday was no exception, and we had the usual
matutinal volleys.

Towards 8 o'clock in the evening the streets near the Masonic Hall
presented an animated, even a gay, picture. Officers in uniform and
ladies in charming toilettes were making their way to the scene of the
festivity, each with a careless happiness which made it impossible to
believe that within a thousand yards of the town were the enemy's
lines. Immense cheering greeted the strains of "Rule Britannia,"
played by the band of the Bechuanaland Rifles, and then the dance
commenced. The town danced upon the edge of a volcano, as it were; and
while it danced the outposts watched with strained eye for any sign of
movement in the enemy's lines. As dusk closed in the outposts had
reported to the colonel commanding that the advanced trenches of the
enemy had been reinforced with some three hundred Boers, and that
their galloping Maxim had been drawn by four men to a point adjacent
to our outlying posts in the brickfields, while what appeared to be
the nine-pounder Krupp had been put into an emplacement upon the
south-eastern front. This news Colonel Baden-Powell did not permit to
become known, since he very properly wished to allow the garrison to
enjoy its dance if occasion offered; and accordingly the dance began.
It was early when the enemy sent their preliminary volley whistling
over the town; in an instant the animation of the streets which had
preceded the dance was apparent once more, as around the doors of the
Masonic Hall a number of people collected from out of the ball-room.
Officers raced to their posts as orderlies galloped through the
streets sounding a general alarm. We were to be attacked, and a man
can serve his guns, can ply his rifle, can stand to his post in
evening pumps and dress trousers as efficiently and as thoroughly as
he can were he clothed in the coarser habiliments of the trenches. For
a few minutes no one quite knew what would happen, and greater
mystification prevailed as the noise of firing came from every quarter
of our front. Urgent orders were issued, to be obeyed as rapidly;
Maxims were brought up at a gallop, the reserve squadron was held in
readiness, coming up to Headquarters at the double. The guns were
loaded and trained, and within a few minutes of the general alarm, the
ball-room was deserted and every man was at his post.

It was a fine night, and the moon was full. Here and there,
silhouetted against the skyline, those who were watching could see the
reinforcements marching to the advanced trenches. There had been
little time to think of anything, to collect anything, the men who
were sent forward simply snatching their rifles and ammunition
reserves. For a brief moment there was exceeding confusion in the
forts that had been ordered to furnish reinforcements for any
particular trench; but this duty was performed so quickly, and the
town was in such readiness to repel attack, that our mobilisation
would have reflected credit upon the smartest Imperial force.
Presently there came a lull in the firing, and the ambulance waggon
made its way to a sheltered point, prepared to move forward should it
become necessary. I watched for a few minutes the scene in the Market
Square, paying particular attention to Colonel Baden-Powell and his
staff officers, who had congregated beyond the stoep of the
Headquarters office. Now and again Lord Edward Cecil, the Chief Staff
Officer, would detach himself from the group to send an instruction by
one of the many orderlies who, with their horses, were in waiting. It
was a cheering spectacle, the prompt and methodical manner in which
our final arrangements were perfected. Then the staff group broke up,
and the C.S.O. explained the possibilities of the situation. The enemy
contemplated an attack upon our south-eastern front, concentrating
their advance upon our positions in the brickfields. If such, indeed,
were the case, we could promise ourselves a smart little fight, and
one, moreover, at point-blank range. We had so fortified our trenches
in this particular quarter that, happily, there was no prospect of any
disaster similar to that which befell our arms at Game Tree. Towards
midnight heavy firing broke out upon the western outposts, caused, as
was afterwards proved, by the success of our native cattle raiders,
who, managing to elude the vigilance of the Boer scouts, had driven
some few head of cattle through their lines into our own camp. The
sound of this firing drew the Chief Staff Officer to the telephone in
the Headquarters bomb-proof, whereupon I made my way to the point
against which we had assumed that the attack would be directed.

It was to an old post in a somewhat new shape, then, that I made my
way, a journey which amply compensated for any lack of excitement in
the events of the last few days. Fitful volleys from the Boers made
it impossible to walk across the section of the veldt intervening
between the rear of these advanced posts and the town, while at
present, these posts form a little colony, connected as they are now
among themselves, but cut off altogether from communication with the
town until the pall of night comes to shield the movements of those
compelled to make their way between the town and the brickfields.
Soon, those who are posted there hope to see a trench constructed,
affording passage at any moment with the base; but until this happens
it is a pleasant scramble, a little dangerous, and somewhat trying.
The ground is rough and stony, sloping slightly, in open spaces, to
within a few yards of the Boer lines. It is commanded in many points,
and upon this particular night it seemed to suit the purpose of the
enemy to play upon it with their rifles at irregular intervals. To
reach the river-bed was easy, to scramble up the river-bed with one's
figure thrown out against the skyline is better appreciated in
imagination; to put it into practice is to walk without looking where
one is going, since one is continually sweeping the enemy's positions
to catch the flash of the enemy's rifles. When the flash is caught, if
the bullet has not hit one first, it is wiser to throw dignity to the
wind and oneself upon the ground. In this position, prone and very
muddy, even a little bruised, I found myself, until the fierce but
whispered challenge of a sentry told me that my temporary destination
had been reached. At this fort there was little to betray the
excitement which consumed its gallant defenders, beyond the fact that
the entire post was standing to arms. With a laugh and a jest we
parted; and cut across what would have been the line of fire had a
fight been raging at that moment. There was a low, elongated wedge a
few yards distant upon the left, against which the moon threw black
shadows. It was the Boer position, and as they had been firing
frequently, warning to proceed cautiously was not altogether
disobeyed. Inspector Marsh's post was then very shortly gained, and
with this officer I passed the night.

It was 2 a.m. when Inspector Marsh turned out to make his last round
before the men in his command stood to arms at daybreak. Whatever else
was not evident, it was now certain that there would be no attack
until the break of day, and so, upon returning to our post, we lay
upon the stony ground and slept. It seemed that Time had scarcely
scored an hour when we woke up, and, taking our rifles with us,
buckling on our revolvers, stood to the loopholes. Day broke solemnly
and with much beauty, night fading into grey-purple and soft, eerie
shadows. Trees looked as sentinels, and there was no sound about us.
Indeed, the spectacle of a large number of men expecting each minute
the opening volley of an attack, was thrilling, and in that cold air
their martial effect was a sufficient and satisfying tonic against the
river mists. We had been standing some few minutes when from up the
stream came the croaking of the bullfrog, so loud and emphatic that
the older veldtsmen knew it at once to be a signal. This had scarcely
been passed round when from that black line upon the sky there broke a
withering sheet of flame; it was a magnificent volley, and swept
across our intrenchments. We held our fire, crouching still lower and
peering still more anxiously through the sandbags. Dawn was rapidly
advancing, and as the light became clearer the enemy heralded its
advance with a merry flight of three-pounder Maxims. They burst among
us, hitting nobody, and falling principally upon the trench occupied
by Sergeant Currie and his Cape Boys. Then we fired, or rather our
most advanced trench opened, and in that moment the engagement began.
However, beginning brilliantly as it did, under the snapping of the
Mausers, the droning hiss of Martinis, and a roaring deluge of shells,
it was short-lived. Sergeant Currie and his men bore the brunt of the
rifle fire, replying shot to shot, undaunted and unchecked. The
reverberating echoes of the firearms, of the exploding shells, to the
accompaniment of the insulting taunts of the Cape Boys were somewhat
deafening. When the advanced trenches of the enemy started, volleys
came also from the ridge of the acclivity leading from the river-bed
to the emplacement of the nine-pounder Krupp. Between them again,
there were smaller trenches joining in the rifle practice, which,
while it lasted, was so hot that it was not possible to creep through
the connecting trenches, or, indeed, to move in any manner whatever.
Within three hours the enemy threw some thirty nine-pounder Krupp,
some twenty-five five-pound incendiary shells, an overwhelming mass of
three-pound Maxims, and a few rounds from the cavalry Maxim. Bullets
innumerable had whizzed across us, to be answered by rifle fire as
brisk again, and so rapidly returned that few of the defenders had
even time to think.

But we wondered, as the day grew brighter and two hours' firing had
passed, what would be the end, considering ourselves fortunate that
the enemy made no attempt to rush any one of the brickfields in his
command. Occasionally, as we fired, Inspector Brown, in charge of the
river-bed work, exchanged signals with Inspector Marsh, the post
commander, through a megaphone, much to the discomfiture of the
Boers, who, as the stentorian commands rang out in any lull of firing,
were sadly perplexed. These signals had, of course, been arranged
beforehand, the men knowing that they were the merest pretext and one
by which it was hoped to confuse the Boers. Upon the part of the enemy
it must have been rather alarming to hear between some temporary
stoppage in the firing a voice in thunderous tones crying out, "Men of
the advanced trench, fix bayonets," an order which would be invariably
followed by hearty cheering from the Cape Police and insults of an
exceedingly personal character from the Cape Boys. However, everything
draws to an end, and the Boers, abandoning their intention of turning
us out of the brickfields, ceased fire, giving to ourselves an
opportunity to prepare breakfast. We ate it where we had previously
been firing, the men passing the tins of bully and the bread rations
from one to another. Then just where we had been fighting, with the
scent of the burst shells and the smoke of the rifles hanging in the
air, thin spiral columns of smoke arose in the rear of the few
brick-kilns, and coffee was presently brought to us. Until mid-morning
we maintained our posts, but with the luncheon hour we took it easy,
although preserving a watchful attitude towards the Boers. Thus passed
the day with little further firing, and some sleeping, terminating in
a merry dinner--under siege conditions--with Inspector Marsh and
Inspector Brown, in the dug-out of their town post.




CHAPTER XXVIII

THE SECOND ATTACK UPON THE BRICKFIELDS


                            MAFEKING, _February 28th, 1900_.

In many ways this month has been the most eventful of any during the
siege. Other months of the siege have secured for themselves a certain
notoriety, because they have been identified with some particular
engagement; but this month of February has seen our labour in the
brickfields brought to a successful consummation, and, at a moment
when the garrison was congratulating itself upon the triumphant issue
of such an adventurous and adventitious undertaking, we have been
brought face to face with the contingency that even yet it may not be
possible to continue to occupy so advanced a post. If I return to the
subject of the brickfields after such a short interval, it is because
there, more than anywhere else in Mafeking, the clash of arms is
predominant. These many days we have followed out our scheme,
endeavouring to circumvent the enemy by pushing forward a line of
entrenched posts until they should embrace an area which would enable
us to outflank their main lines and enfilade their advanced trenches.
There was a moment when this was actually completed, a moment in
which we who were in the advanced forts, knew that if we could but
hold the position we held the invaders in such a fashion that they
would be compelled to abandon their posts. But there was the shadow of
uncertainty, since we were rather reckoning upon the hitherto
recognised fact, that the Boers belonged to that class of fighting
peoples who never purposely attack if they could secure their ends by
entrenchments and delay. For one day we rather gloried in the work,
until towards dusk we realised with a swift and fearful astonishment
that the Boers were intending to sap us. We have supposed it to be by
accident rather than by design that a man, in the uniform of some
German regiment, appeared of a sudden to arise out of the ground at a
point some thirty yards distant from what we had considered to be the
end of the Boer trench. His presence explained much, since the night
before we had been perplexed at hearing the sound of picking and
shovelling a little in advance of our position. At that time we had
concluded that the noises emanated from the natives, who were
deepening and strengthening the advanced trench of the Boers; but with
this figure suddenly appearing, we realised that there was quite a
different story to be told, one which implied that our previous
opinion of the enemy was in error, and that they intended to make us
fight for our position or to turn us out. The situation was rapidly
becoming as interesting as any which has developed from the siege. Sap
and counter-sap were separated perhaps by eighty yards, and so
gallantly and vigorously did the enemy work that we could see them
approaching yard by yard. It was impossible for us in the time at our
disposal to do very much to stop them; we could simply keep a look-out
and drench their trenches with volleys upon the slightest
provocation. It was useless to fire upon the natives working in the
sap, since it was only possible to see the points of their picks as
they were swung aloft, catching for a moment the radiance of the sun.
Still they came on, and one night we knew that before dawn they would
be into us. That night no one slept in the advanced trenches, and
Inspector Marsh, who has very generously permitted me to stop with him
for the past month in his quarters in the brickfields, visited the
posts hourly. Between two and three we slept, and for a short space
there was a perfect calm in our lines. At half-past four we stood to
arms, to hear that the enemy had made contact with our trench. As we
found this out, news was brought that the big Creusot gun had taken up
its position upon the south-eastern heights, and so commanded our
entire area. The inevitable had arrived and perhaps for a brief moment
we were all a little subdued. As the sun rose Inspector Marsh,
commanding the south-eastern outposts, under directions from
Headquarters, warned every man to take such cover as was obtainable.

The situation would have given satisfaction had there been any
prospect of an equal contest, since man to man we were not unmatched,
but it would be impossible for the occupants of these advanced posts
to attempt conclusions with an enemy who could bring to their
assistance a high-velocity Krupp and a 100 lb. Creusot. There was
immediate excitement, and Inspector Marsh telephoned the news to
Headquarters. For the moment that was all which could be done--inform
Headquarters. Then, with our rifles in our hands, with an extra supply
of ammunition by our sides, we waited the inevitable, and we waited
until night; but upon that night nothing happened. As dusk drew down,
and as the calm of night was broken only by the rumbling echoes and
tremors of the work in the enemy's sap, we threw out a working party
of some two hundred natives, starving and ill-conditioned, but the
best that we could procure, intending to make the effort to check once
and for all the advance of the Boers. We worked all night, and dawn
was breaking as we drew off, but we had passed them. In a single night
we had carried our sap some thirty yards beyond theirs, and at such an
angle that we enfiladed their sap, while only eighty yards divided the
pair. The Boer line of advance was deeper than ours by some five feet,
but all that day white man and Cape Boy strove to deepen our new
trench, and by night it was perhaps a foot deeper than it had been. It
was dangerous work; it was exciting. The crackle of bullets was never
absent; they struck all round one, and there were a few fatalities.
That night we worked again, and so did they. Indeed, each side
volleyed heavily all night to protect their working parties. We were
not extending our trench; it was already a hundred yards sheer into
the open, but in the morning when we looked, the Boer trench was
barely thirty yards away from ours. That day we did nothing but await
the inevitable again. We slept, since it was certain that on the
morrow a fight would come. Once more there was nothing for it but to
wait in such readiness as we could be in, for anything that the enemy
might attempt. They began at dusk by throwing dynamite bombs into our
sap--some burst, some fell blind; but this work was futile, since they
had not yet reached sufficiently near to effect any damage. When they
did obtain such access, we also had a little pile of bombs. Tooth for
tooth--we were not going to give up without fighting. Then the end
came suddenly, for Headquarters telephoned that the big gun had taken
up its original position, which was barely two thousand yards distant
on our left flank. With this message we began to comprehend what the
next day would bring forth.

The affair between the outposts began about a quarter to five in the
morning. The first 100 lb. shell fell between our trenches and those
of the enemy: it seemed that they had wished to secure the range. They
had secured it. The three holes which form our advanced position
contain no cover whatsoever, since there is none to put up, and
whatever earth had been thrown up was commanded by the enemy's fort
upon the south-eastern heights. Each hole contained a shelter from the
sun, a corrugated iron arrangement, supported by props, with a
sprinkling of earth on top. The shooting was magnificent, and it will
be difficult to find, when the various comparisons be drawn,
marksmanship more precise or more accurate. Each was wrecked in turn:
a shell to a shelter. When this work had been accomplished, the big
gun directed its attention to the brick-kilns, in which we had posted
our sharpshooters. In a little time the three were heaps of ruins.
Between the intervals of shelling the Boers fired volleys from the
three points: from the fort on the south-eastern heights, from the
fort in the river-bed, and from their main trench. The company of Cape
Boys in the advanced hole could not be expected to relish the triple
fire, which was in turn endorsed by shells from the big gun. The holes
are not very large, nor very wide, nor high: they are natural
depressions in the soil, in which water had collected and caused a
further subsidence. When the enemy volleyed from the advanced trench,
they had to crouch under the lee of a bank that was facing the
direction of the fort on the south-eastern heights; when they wished
to avoid shell and rifle fire from this fort, they had to run the risk
of finding shelter in the direct line of fire from the main trench. If
they endeavoured to move to the second hole, they had to do so under
fire from all three points. It was rather an unpleasant state of
things for the Cape Boys, who, moreover, could find no point from
which to return the fire of the enemy. In an hour some twelve shells
had been thrown into the first hole, and there were five fatalities.
Whenever we endeavoured to occupy the sap the big gun shelled it,
until it was no longer possible to maintain a post in a position so
exposed. We fell back to the second hole, and the enemy began to shell
other points in the brickfields. They sent two to Currie's post in the
river-bed; they scattered them plentifully about the first, second,
and third forts--entrenched posts by which it is hoped to keep back
the Boers, should they successfully carry the Cape Boy holes. The
situation was becoming serious, and we had been compelled to abandon
the sap and evacuate the first hole. At the moment it was a question
of whether the Boers were coming on, and as we waited in the
expectation of seeing them advance down our own sap into our original
position, the shelling ceased, for the Boers had gone to breakfast.
That was our supreme opportunity, and although they must have seen us
from the south-eastern heights, we employed ourselves in saving from
the wreck what was possible. All the shelters had been pounded into
_debris_: rifles and bayonets lay about broken and twisted, here and
there were remains of camp utensils, and blood-stained clothing. It
was a scene of ruin, and as we crept into it upon our hands and knees
the confusion of the place struck one sadly. Sergeant-Major Taylor had
been hurt by the second shell, and has since died, while another of
the wounded has also succumbed. While the firing lasted the position
was untenable, and we fell back from the sap into the most advanced of
the holes. Here the situation rapidly became impossible, for the
character of the outwork prevented any one from taking cover. But
despite the galling fire, the Cape Boys behaved with admirable courage
and endurance, and it was only when three men in the advanced hole had
been seriously wounded, that they fell back behind the bank of the
second pit. In a little, when the gun had effectually driven us from
the advanced hole, the enemy began to shell the forts in the rear. At
that moment there were two things to be done: one was to bank up the
mouth of the sap, since the enemy had already reached it and were
firing down it, the other was to throw up a rampart across the mouth
of the second hole. Under a heavy fire Corporal Rosenfeld, of the
Bechuanaland Volunteers, and myself undertook and accomplished the
one, while at night the work upon the rampart was begun. By morning it
was finished, but in the night the enemy had occupied our sap. The
length of the first hole then alone divided us. Within the next few
hours, however, the position of affairs changed as rapidly again. At a
moment when the enemy were least prepared a strong party rushed the
hole and sap, expelling the Boers by vigorous use of bayonets and
dynamite bombs. Since then the Boers have left our advanced works
severely alone.




CHAPTER XXIX

THE NATIVE QUESTION


                                MAFEKING, _March 3rd, 1900_.

It has become altogether impossible to gauge with any degree of
accuracy, the situation in relation to the fortunes of the Imperial
arms, or as it might be found in the camp of the enemy without
Mafeking. We do not lack here men who, from a previous knowledge of
the Boers, consider themselves capable of estimating the purpose and
designs of Commandant Snyman; but what seems to be precise and even an
admirable forecast one week, is proved, by events in the succeeding
week, to be irrelevant and unreliable. It has been our habit, when for
any length of time the enemy has rested, to attribute their
comparative cessation from hostilities to news of ill-omen, and in our
fatuous presciency we have approximately given the date upon which the
siege will be raised. But in light of the never-varying contradiction
in sense which befalls our optimistical assurance, we must perforce,
recognise the falsity of our deductions and cease from worrying.
Recently, indeed during the past week, we expected the Boers to
celebrate Amajuba Day, and to this end, the garrison was held in a
condition of complete readiness, so as to be able to at once repel the
anticipated attack. The anniversary of this disastrous fight passed
off, however, without incident, and as it happened that runners
arrived from the North upon the same day, conveying to us the
unconfirmed intelligence that a force under the ever-victorious
General French had relieved Kimberley, the wise-acres here, both civil
and military, were of opinion that the investing force, that has now
surrounded us for six months, could not stomach such unfortunate
information, and were as a consequence timorous of any renewed
aggression. But now again our theories are erroneous, and the siege
progresses to-day merrily and as pugnaciously as ever. With the
tidings of Kimberley's good-luck, we looked to see the big Creusot gun
removed across the border in its return to Pretoria, but alas! it
still confronts us and still flings its daily complement of shells
into the town. Indeed, without this piece of ordnance, life would
become so strikingly original that the townspeople would break down
under the strain. The uncertainty as to what direction it will take,
as to the number of tolls which have been rung out from the alarm
bell, as to whose house has been wrecked, or what family put into
mourning, has buoyed up the townspeople to a pitch from which, when
the cause is removed, there will be a pretty general collapse. With
the advent of the news about the South, the Northern runners confirmed
the fact of the presence of Colonel Plumer's force being near at hand.
But this has been the irony of our situation since the siege began.
There has ever been, it would seem, some worthy general or colonel
within a little trifle of two hundred miles from us, bringing Mafeking
relief, or if not for us, for the starving natives. This has always
been so pleasant to reflect upon, just this little detail of two
hundred miles. Colonel Plumer, we hear, is laying down "immense"
stocks of food-supplies at Kanya, so that the natives here, who are
already so reduced that they are dying from sheer inanition, having
successfully accomplished the journey, which is one of ninety miles,
may feed to their hearts' content--provided that they are able to pay
for the rations which are so generously distributed to them. Whatever
motives of philanthropy direct the policy of the executive in this
question of distributing food allowances to natives, it cannot be said
that the Government or its administrators, err in their administration
upon the side of liberality. Even here in Mafeking we have set a price
upon the bowl of soup--horseflesh and mealie-meal mixed--which is
served out to the natives from the soup-kitchen, finding excuses for
such parsimony in the contention that, by charging the starving
natives threepence per bowl of soup, when it is exceedingly doubtful
if they have that amount of money in their possession, we can
successfully induce them to remove to Kanya, and there live in a state
of happy flatulency off the stocks which Colonel Plumer has been
ordered to prepare against their reception. Of course, at a moment
like this, it is injudicious to cavil at the procedure of the Imperial
Government, but there can be no doubt that the drastic principles of
economy which Colonel Baden-Powell has been practising in these later
days are opposed to and altogether at variance with the dignity of the
liberalism which we profess and are at such little pains to execute,
and which enter so much into the pacific settlement of native
questions in South Africa. The presence of a large alien native
population gathered in Mafeking at the present juncture has been our
own fault, since the authorities, in whom the management and control
of the natives of this district is invested, advised the military
authorities here to allow some two thousand native refugees from the
Transvaal to take up their abode upon the eve of war in the Mafeking
stadt, and it is through the tax which this surplus population put
upon the commissariat that this particular question has required such
delicate adjustment. With supplies which are rapidly diminishing, we
are compelled to force nightly a moderate number to attempt the
journey to Kanya, and if they have been signally unsuccessful in their
essay to pass through the Boer lines, it is in part because the enemy,
having promised them a free passage, maliciously fires upon them as
they reach the advanced trenches. For the most part, therefore, we are
no better off than we were, since those natives who escaped invariably
return to Mafeking.

With the good news which we have received, a slightly better tone of
feeling would seem to be about the community. We are simple people for
the present, living as we do under the rigours of Martial Law, but we
have such genuine faith in the supremacy of our flag, that now that we
have heard of the general movement of troops, we are infinitely
happier and inclined to forget for the moment the trials and
difficulties of our position. There was a time when the townspeople
were so disgusted with the conduct of the war, with the disgraceful
and nefarious practices of the Colonial Government, with the
abominable lethargy of the Imperial authorities, that five men out of
every six had resolved to abandon a country where such misrule was
possible, and to remove to some one other of our colonies, where life,
upon a broader and happier basis, was the order. But with the
inauguration of brighter things, such as the relief of Kimberley
portends, this tone has disappeared, while there seems to be an almost
unanimous desire to wait the arrival of the next intelligence. It is
perhaps not altogether incorrect to say that the feeling of disgust,
by which so many people were at one time swayed, existed chiefly among
those who were connected to and related with families of Dutch origin,
and who at some period discarded their Dutch allegiance, casting in
their lot with the British. These people yet retained a certain
sympathy with the Transvaal, and were as concerned as any Boer about
the issues of the campaign. Upon the outbreak of war, many of these
people took up their residence in border towns, and by these means
Mafeking received a sprinkling of people who were, by protestation,
Britishers, and by instinct, Dutch. These men were accepted, since as
a rule they were known to be genuine in their avowal; but when they
brought their families into Mafeking, their womenfolk, being wholly
Dutch, were as a rule regarded in quite a different light. It must be
remembered that inter-marriage is practised in the Transvaal to an
extraordinary degree, and that the relationship of any one family with
others can by this means permeate the entire country to such an extent
that, while the woman might be the wife of an African Imperialist, she
might be able to claim kinship with men who held high positions in the
Republican service. These ladies, therefore, were quite open to the
suspicion of wishing to convey to their relations in the Transvaal
authentic information regarding Mafeking. As our condition has been
precarious, and as important information was surreptitiously carried
to the enemy, it was perhaps natural that we should take steps to
confine these ladies within their laager, and to place a guard upon
it--precautions which were neither valued nor appreciated by them, and
from which they suffered no hardships other than those which might be
expected to accrue from the enjoyment of the somewhat restricted
liberty, with which they, together with the entire garrison, must
perforce rest content.




CHAPTER XXX

POLITICAL ECONOMY


                               MAFEKING, _March 15th, 1900_.

Colonel Baden-Powell has recently issued an order to all ranks in his
command requesting the names of those who are willing to enlist in the
special corps which are to be raised for purposes of patrolling the
country when the war is terminated. If this be a sign of the times, a
token by which we may read the lines of the policy by which Africa
will be governed during the next few years, it is satisfactory at
least to understand that we do not propose to take the risk of
successful risings in the months to come in different Dutch centres.
This war has shown us the folly of courting "compromise and Exeter
Hall" in dealing with dissatisfied areas of the Empire. We have
policed Burma, we patrol Ireland (but in a different sense), and in
India we have incorporated and turned into admirable efficiency many
of the hill tribes, but we cannot translate the native-born Republican
nor convert the rebel Dutch without the almost certain contingency
arising of their proving traitorous. There are many who know the Boer,
and, knowing him and appreciating his strange strategy, his curiously
warped mind, his natural aptitude for breaking his bond, would not
trust him in any transaction where integrity of character and probity
were the essential complement. There has been much opinion among
colonials that the Imperial Government might, anxious to be as
conciliatory as possible, enrol the Dutch for constabulary duties,
giving, indeed, to the younger generation the preference, and thus
enabling them to possess an employment definite, if not altogether
lucrative. But in this we should be perpetrating against the loyal
colonists of Cape Colony a grave injustice, for until the present
generation of Dutch has passed away, taking with it the memories of
the war, it will be unsafe, it will be unwise, to employ in any
administrative capacity whatsoever, those men who, themselves nursing
a rancour against Great Britain, will omit no opportunity to foster
the traditional hatred of their forefathers. We have in France, and in
the French animosity against Germany, a case which is identical,
proving, as it does, how the prejudices of a people can be nurtured
and kept evergreen through the sheer force of malignant sentiment; and
there can be little doubt that time, and time only, is capable of
removing from the minds of the Republican Dutch that feeling of
detestation and contempt which has maintained them in their attitude
of hostility towards us for so many decades. To them, for many years
to come, the British will be a nation of iconoclasts; we may banish
them, we may wipe out all traces of their misrule, and so obliterate
the signs of their existence that historians may find it difficult to
believe that they once lived. We may do all these things, but it will
be impossible to govern their instincts by Act of Parliament, to curb
their impulses by the rulings of the High Commissioner. It would
therefore be thrice foolish to employ them in their own country and
among their own people, and such action would imply that we intended
to ignore uses to which the younger colonists can be so conveniently
put. In South Africa, as in Australasia and in Canada, there is a
large army of young men who loaf their hours away in the idleness of
an agricultural life rather than seek some trade in the offices of the
big cities. They achieve little that is profitable upon their farms,
clinging tenaciously to such a livelihood, since it possesses finer
natural elements in its intimacy with the life of the veldt than any
form of metropolitan activity could give to them. There are, of
course, many men who have been driven to the towns through the failure
of their holdings, but in this present state of war these especially,
and all those others, have answered eagerly to the call for
volunteers, and in proving themselves worthy, have rendered excellent
services to the State. The great majority of these men would willingly
take service in the forces to which the order of the colonel
commanding makes reference, and by this we have at hand an army
extraordinarily adapted to colonial purposes, and needing only to be
called out. Moreover, at a time when the Empire has seen how its
various units have hastened to the aid of the Mother-country, would it
not be well to create in each colony a permanent militia from the men
who have so unanimously come forward; a force which would be to the
colonies what the Imperial army is to India, and which would supersede
the local defence forces in Australasia, approaching in its conception
a fixed soldiery rather than one to which is given a certain number of
exercises in the year? There would be no lack of numbers in any of the
colonies, and in Africa we could make use of the Zulu, the Matabele,
and the Cape Boys. We have long rested in fancied security, and not
until China falls a prey to Russia and India passes from us, need we
fear that Australasia can be taken from us by the combined fleets of
the Powers of Europe; nevertheless, since we must reorganise our army,
it would be no mean policy to place, once and for all, upon their true
foundation the defences of our colonies.

To those who know the life of the mounted police in Burma, of the
constabulary in the West Indies, and of the police in Canada, the
duties of the corps that are raised for South Africa will be at once
comprehended. They would both police and administer the areas of the
Transvaal and the Orange Free State, and it may be that they will be
affiliated with the British South Africa Police corps that are already
enrolled. The life is enjoyable, there is much sport, and for a few
years to come there is sure to be trouble, at odd intervals, among the
Dutch. It is, perhaps, doubtful whether the man from home will be
quite adapted to such work, since, in a very high degree, a knowledge
of the Dutch language will be indispensable, and much valuable time
will be lost in acquiring some smattering of this tongue and in
teaching the recruits to ride, to shoot, and to drill. But life in the
mounted constabulary has also possessed so great a fascination for the
average Englishman that, should the Government decide to make eligible
the men from home, any paucity among the colonial applicants can be at
once remedied. Care, however, should be taken that the colonial men
who came forward on behalf of the colony in its hour of peril, should
be given the first refusal, and a greater financial consideration
should be meted out than, with the exception of the Canadian police,
has hitherto been customary. The economy of Africa is high priced, and
it will be eminently difficult for men to live upon their pay should
they have to forfeit any large proportion of it for extras, the cost
of which might well be borne by the Government itself. There has been
a great outcry about the higher rates of pay which are drawn by the
colonial corps now serving at the front as compared with the
wretchedly inadequate wages of the regulars, and it is a great pity
that we, who can be so foolishly magnanimous, cannot disavow the petty
economies of the service at a moment like the present. Five shillings
a day is small enough when men have to provide their entire equipment,
but to argue that because the War Office is supplying the kit the rate
should be reduced, since the main source of expenditure be removed, is
to incline towards a policy of expenditure which is penny wise and
pound foolish. We read recently, and with infinite zest, that the
artillery by which Mafeking is defended includes a battery of field
guns and four heavy pieces. This, of course, is a grotesque
exaggeration. We have no heavy ordnance, and our field pieces are
obsolete muzzle-loading monstrosities. Had the War Office paid
attention to its work, and supplied this advanced outpost of the
Empire with efficient artillery, instead of rushing up to Mafeking an
improvised field battery, it would be possible to ignore the attempt
to curtail the pay of the colonial forces, since, if Africa had been
prepared for war, it is improbable that Great Britain would have been
compelled, in order to crush the combined forces of the Republics, to
summon to her aid men from her colonial dependencies. But we did not
do this, and if we be now reaping the fruits of an impotent
administration, we should be sufficiently generous to accept the
responsibility for the expenditure, and to desist from an endeavour to
bolster up accounts by imposing upon the colonial contingents the
effects of an economy which aims at sparing a few thousand pounds by
saving some portion of their pay. Moreover, if it be true that the
colonial contingents which have been enrolled since war began, are
receiving ten shillings a day, why should not that rate be accepted as
the standard of pay for all colonial forces under arms? In relation to
Mafeking, where the question of compensation has become acute, such
addition to the pay of the defenders of the town as would increase
their rate to ten shillings would be a felicitous manner of
recognising the gallant work which the garrison has performed, and
provide at the same time, a practical exposition of official
appreciation for the units of the defence.

If this be the one question of moment, in reference to the other
problem--the pastoral and agricultural future of the country--there is
little doubt that Africa--more especially these western districts,
where agricultural and pastoral pursuits are widely followed--will
require the assistance of the capitalist before the mere emigrant from
England can make much headway. In a sense Mafeking is the central
market for farm produce for areas which stretch far into the
Transvaal, and which, lacking the propinquity of a local market, are
compelled to send their products across the border. Many of these
districts have proved to possess valuable mining qualities, so that it
is possible we shall see in a few years the development of towns
which, owing their existence to the mines, will attract the trade
which now finds its bent in the Mafeking market. But the hope here is
of railway communication with Johannesburg and Pretoria, and the
consequent opening out and settlement of the Bechuanaland
Protectorate, and it is in this respect the capitalist will be the
Alpha and Omega of the countryside; for the youngster who goes to
Australasia with five hundred pounds and leases a property will be
unable to obtain a hearing up here until the economy of daily life has
been reduced to a less expensive order. There is a golden future here,
but much gold will have to be poured into the lap of Mother Nature
before any very satisfactory results are gained. The cost of transit
is prohibitive, and there is a scarcity of water, which will make
wells a necessity. There is much cheap labour, but the present mode of
existence of the farming class is one which favours a bare
sufficiency, and for the remainder a state of placid idleness.

The insufficient development of South Africa in respect to its
agricultural and pastoral resources is largely due to the
unprogressiveness of the Boer or South African farmer. He personifies
useless idleness, and contents himself with raising a herd of a few
hundred head of cattle; he seldom plants a tree; seldom digs a well;
seldom makes a road; and has an unmitigated contempt for agriculture
and agriculturists. His ploughs, harrows, and utensils of husbandry
are clumsy, ill-formed, and, where they exist at all, are hopelessly
antiquated. He cannot be prevailed upon to make any alteration
whatsoever in the system of his agriculture. His ancestors were
farmers, and he himself does not conceive it to be his duty to alter
methods which were already obsolete when he was a child. The English
farmer, with good training, active disposition, and accurate
knowledge of how and where to institute radical reforms, possessing
capital, might find both home and fortune in these areas. It is a good
cattle country, and with a careful reorganisation in the management of
the cattle-farms across the border--a reorganisation which should
extend throughout all agrestic or nomadic communities in the
Transvaal--it should receive material assistance from the farms of the
western border of the Transvaal that are already stocked. The Dutch
farmer, living the life of the patriarch of old, leaves everything to
nature, and does not, as a rule, combine the varieties of farming
which his property would sustain. He remains a stock-breeder, or a
grower of cereals: the combination of the two is usually too complex.
It will be therefore a good thing should a different basis of
management be inculcated, and when this be accomplished, greater
facilities for stocking their farms will be held out to the intending
colonists who may favour the country, but for the time the new-comers
should check their eagerness, since, above all things, capital will be
necessary to their salvation.




CHAPTER XXXI

"A HISTORY OF THE BARALONGS"


                               MAFEKING, _March 22nd, 1900_.

Beyond a few successful cattle-raiding forays on the part of the
Baralongs, we have done nothing these past days but maintain
courageously the glories of our splendid isolation. In a way we have
been compelled to depend to no small extent upon the prowess of the
local tribe. The Baralongs have done well by us, and have served us
faithfully, and with no complaint. They have fought for us; they have
preyed upon the enemy's cattle, so that the white garrison might have
something better than horseflesh for their diet; they have manned the
western defences of the stadt, and they have suffered severe
privations with extraordinary fortitude. There have been moments in
the earlier stages of the war when they might well have considered the
advisability of supporting a power that could not from the outset
hinder their own arch-enemy, and one against whom they have been
pre-eminently successful in other years, from invading the territories
of the Empire. But whatever may have been the workings of the native
mind, however they may have dallied with the treacherous overtures of
the Boers, they have individually, and as a tribe, unanimously risen
to the occasion, and given to the Great White Queen their absolute
support. In the history of these people there is not much in the
consideration which we have shown them to justify their allegiance,
and if we have secured their loyalty at so critical a moment, let us
hope that it may, in some way, epitomise the actions for the future,
of the tribes that are allied with them, and, when the moment comes
for compensation, let us at least remember the debt of honour which we
owe them.

The Baralongs are, of course, identified with the Bantu peoples of
Africa, but they come from a stock that is industrial as opposed to
the military element of this race. The distribution of the military
and industrial Bantu is significant, but in this latter we will
consider one of the peaceable tribes. The military Bantu is found in
possession of the most fertile regions, and it may be well to remember
that they occupied the Southern extremity of Africa, contemporaneously
with Europeans. They are now found between the Drakensberg Mountains
and the Indian Ocean, fruitful areas about the Zoutpansberg and
Kaffraria. It would seem that they held these grounds by right of
might, and their district is in somewhat striking contrast to the
regions in which the industrial Bantu are at home. These latter cling
to the mountains, as in Basutoland, and are scattered over the high
plateau which forms so great a part of the Free State and the
Transvaal, or in the confines of the Kalahari Desert and those deserts
and karoos which lie to the south of the Orange River. The desert has
ever been their ultimate retreat, and as their more warlike kinsmen
seized and held the finer qualities of the country, the arid and, so
to speak, waste areas of Africa fell to the heritage of the industrial
Bantu. Descendants from the same family, there is naturally an analogy
between their tribal organisations which is yet curiously dissimilar.
They are both armed with the same weapon, but the assegai of the
military Bantu is short-handled and broad bladed; while the assegai of
the industrial Bantu is long and sharp, light in the blade, and
intended mainly for purposes of the chase. Among the former the chief
is a despot, against whose word there is no appeal; his town is
designed with a view to defence; the chief's hut and the cattle-pens
of the tribe are placed in the centre, and around these the remaining
huts are built in concentric circles. The power of the chief among the
industrial Bantu is limited; first by the council of lesser chiefs,
secondly by the general assemblage of the freemen of the tribe. His
town is intended to serve the requirements of a peaceful people, while
outside the ground is cultivated in a rough and unscientific manner;
they are even acquainted with the art of smelting ore and working in
iron. The pursuit of the military Bantu is directed to the successful
cultivation of a bare sufficiency of corn and cattle, and he pays
little attention to anything which is beyond his immediate
requirements. The Kaffirs, the Zulus, and the Matabele Zulus are among
the warlike tribes of this dark-skinned race; but the chief seats of
the industrial tribe are Bechuanaland and Basutoland, and it is with
the peaceful Bechuanas, with whom are identified the Baralongs, that
we propose to deal.

Historically, Bechuanaland will remain ever interesting to Englishmen
as being the scene of the labours of Robert Moffat, David Livingstone,
and John Mackenzie: three famous missionaries, who in their time did
so much for the interests of our country in what was then the Dark
Continent. The immense area lying to the north of Cape Colony
possessed in itself one great political feature which made its
possession of paramount importance. It was the natural trade route
between that colony and Central Africa at a moment when Imperialism
was a soulless conception, and when our ideas of the Empire in Africa
shrank at the possibility of northern expansion. During all those
years possession of Bechuanaland was the golden key to a future which,
had we but realised it then, would have given us some right to claim
the distinction of being a race of discoverers. We were, however, very
diffident about accepting and recognising any greater responsibilities
in relation to any enlargement of the areas of our African domains,
and if a vindictive spirit had not encouraged the Boers to plunder and
destroy the settlement in which missionary Livingstone abode, and thus
driven him to pastures of a fresh kind, we might never have possessed
the gate through which the stream of prosperity has flowed, until it
reached to the limits of Central Africa. If the Boers had resolved to
oust this intrepid Englishman, they failed lamentably, insomuch as
they did but drive him to explore the interior, and to open up a
magnificent reach of country to his fellow Englishmen. Bechuanaland
lay at his feet when he first started forth, but to-day the point of
exploration is many hundred miles in advance. Bechuanaland has
flourished, and would have prospered more, had we but appreciated the
doctrine of those Victorian statesmen who, recognising the wondrous
wealth which lay in this new country, but fearing that the moment had
not come for such gigantic undertakings, were regretfully compelled
to delegate to posterity the duty of some day acquiring these very
areas. Great Britain does not go very far back into the history of the
native tribes of Bechuanaland. We are the later agents of a new
civilisation, but we have yet to undo many wrongs to the lawful
possessors of this proud heritage, to adjust many intricate questions,
and to grapple, without fear and hesitation, with the problems which
confront us--problems upon which it is surely not too much to say the
effectual solidarity and stability of this great African Empire
depends.

Tradition tells us that the Baralong branch of the Bantu came from the
north under the leadership of Chief Morolong, and that the tribe
settled, after a protracted exodus from the north, on the Molopo River
under a chief who was fourth in descent from their first leader,
Morolong. The combination of the military and industrial Bantu had
been already broken by the character of the tribe itself. Before they
had been settled very long, Matabele Zulus under Moselekatse attacked
Mabua, and there was once again a complete division of tribe. They
scattered in three directions. Thaba N'chu was selected by the leader
of that party as their eventual resting-place. Two other sections, led
by Taoane, the father of Montsioa, and Machabi, found their way into
the country which lay between the Orange River and the Vaal. There
they remained, leading a quiet and comparatively harmless existence
until the Boers, under Hendrik Potgieter, entered into alliance with
the Baralongs to attack Moselekatse. When the old lion of the north
had been driven beyond the Limpopo, Taoane returned with his followers
to the south bank of the Marico. By virtue of this conquest Potgieter
issued a proclamation, claiming for himself and the Transvaal
Government the country which had previously been overrun by the Zulu
chief. Under this proclamation the Boers claimed to exercise sovereign
powers over the Bechuana tribes, but upon the protest of the British
Government this was withdrawn, Taoane and Montsioa, who had by this
time succeeded his father, refusing to recognise the implied
sovereignty of the Boers. By the intervention of the Imperial
Government on behalf of the native chiefs of a territory which was
practically unknown, it became the eventual channel through which we
pushed a benign salvation, and an indifferent protection upon the
natives of Bechuanaland until that time when we were enabled to
assimilate the country. The attempt of the Transvaal Government to
seize the areas of Bechuanaland was the rift in the silver lining of
the clouds of Transvaal prosperity. The question became, between the
two Governments, one of great moment, and its existence, since the
Republic declined to ratify the award of the Keate Arbitration, was a
bone of contention which was never altogether buried. The attitude of
this Republic, the indirect assistance which the Transvaal offered to
Moshette and Massou for the perpetuation of civil strife among the
Bechuana chiefs, undoubtedly hastened the annexation by Great Britain
in 1877 of the Transvaal territory. When this happened, despite the
fact that the border was immediately delimited, Bechuanaland passed
through a period of the greatest anarchy. The chiefs were warring
amongst themselves, and although the two parties claimed the
protection of either the Transvaal or the Imperial Government, the
country was not definitely pacified till the despatch of the Warren
Expedition, an expedient which by its success made Bechuanaland an
integral portion of our African Empire. Montsioa, the Baralong chief,
was fighting with his brother Moshette; Mankorane, the Batlapin chief,
was engaged in struggle with David Massou, who was head of the
Korannas. Of these four chiefs Montsioa and Mankorane sought the
protection of the Imperial Government, while Moshette and Massou
acknowledged the sovereignty of the Transvaal. European volunteers or
freebooters who would be rewarded for their services by grants of
land, assisted each of the four chiefs. At this juncture the Imperial
Government changed its policy of administration in relation to the
natives of Bechuanaland, and the result was that the High Commissioner
of the Cape became supreme chief of the natives outside the Republic
and the territories of foreign powers. In pursuance of the new policy
Mr. Mackenzie arrived in Bechuanaland as British Resident, for the
purpose of giving effect to the newly proclaimed Protectorate which
had been established over the country outside the south-western
boundary of the Transvaal by the consent of the delegates from the
Republic, who had visited London to obtain certain modifications of
the Convention of Pretoria. An extraordinary state of things awaited
the arrival of Mackenzie, for the volunteers in the service of the
Bechuana chiefs, Moshette and Massou, had established two independent
communities, the "republics" of Land Goshen and Stellaland. The
freebooters of Stellaland offered no resistance to the authority of
the British Resident, but the burghers of Land Goshen celebrated the
arrival of the Resident by a series of outrages and the contemptuous
rejection of the demands made to them by these new officials. With
the successful resistance of the filibusters from Rooigrond, the
capital of Land Goshen, President Kruger issued a proclamation in the
interests of humanity, by which he brought under the protecting wing
of this South African State, the contending chiefs and their European
advisers; thus the anomaly existed of a power endeavouring to assert
its authority over rebels in a country in which we ourselves had
assumed control. The mediation of the Transvaal Government was brought
about, partly by the situation of Rooigrond, partly by the
unjustifiable arrogance and assumption of the Transvaal President. The
town had been so placed that it lay across the line of the new
south-western boundary; the divisions lying partly in the Transvaal,
partly in the Protectorate, and since it had become apparent that the
Imperial or Colonial Government were unable to remedy the evils which
arose from the depredations of marauders of Rooigrond, their leaders
justified their actions by claiming that their town was the property
of the Transvaal, and that they themselves were acting for that state,
under the orders of General Joubert, and endeavouring to suppress
conditions of anarchy in a country which, from the state of its
existence, would appear to possess no controlling influences. If the
outcome of this diplomatic feat were the proclamation of the
Transvaal, it also aroused Great Britain to the true condition of
affairs. The Transvaal had gone too far, and, in response to hints
from the Imperial Government as to the feeling of the colony,
resolutions were passed stating that public opinion in Cape Colony
considered the intervention of her Majesty's Government for the
maintenance of the trade route to the interior, and the preservation
of native tribes to whom promise of Imperial protection had already
been given, was an act dictated by the claims of humanity and by the
necessities of policy. It was thus brought home to the Government that
the Cape Colonists considered that it would be fatal to British
supremacy in South Africa if we failed to maintain our rights which we
derived from the Convention of London, and to fulfil our obligations
towards the native tribes of the new Protectorate. After this
assurance of moral support the Imperial Government despatched Sir
Charles Warren, in order that he might remove the filibusters from
Bechuanaland, pacify the country, and restore the natives their land,
taking measures, in the meantime, to prevent a recurrence of the
depredations and atrocities which had been enacted recently there.
When the forces were finally withdrawn Bechuanaland was created a
Crown Colony, and at a subsequent date, it was incorporated into the
Cape Colony. Since this time we have continued to perform the duties
of a central authority in respect to the native tribes beyond the
borders of the South African Republic, the expenses of administration
being paid from the proceeds of the hut tax which is levied upon
natives, together with the revenue derived from trading licenses, and
paid for by European traders. In the settlement of Bechuanaland we
reached a critical point in the history of England's administration in
South Africa. We have been compelled to accept the responsibilities of
such a central power as we have become, and we can no longer disregard
the adjustment of those problems which so burdened that office. Now
that our Imperial interests are so strong and our holdings in the
country so great, let us no longer continue to oppose the means which
will lead to that eventual federation of the Colonies and States of
South Africa, the union which, once secured, will do so much to
rectify the mistakes that we have made in our African policy.




CHAPTER XXXII

'TIS WEARY WAITING


                               MAFEKING, _March 31st, 1900_.

We have lived for so many months now under the conditions which govern
a town during siege that we almost accept existing circumstances as
normal. We have ceased to wonder at the shortness of our rations,
content to recognise that we might grumble from sunrise to sunset and
gain nothing by it. We are no longer surprised at the enemy; they seem
to take the siege as a joke, but it is a comedy which has a tragic
lining. We have astounding spirit; there is no question of the gravity
of our situation; there is no doubt that if we were to relax our
vigilance for a moment, if we were to withdraw an outpost, diminish
the establishment of some trench, the Boers would be in upon us before
the garrison had realised that any such alteration in the defences had
taken place. Nevertheless, there is really an admirable exhibition of
almost uncomplaining acquiescence in the hardships which have fallen
to our daily lot. Here and there there is grumbling, but the man who
grumbles to-day rejoices to-morrow, since no siege can be endured with
fortitude and determination if one dwells unduly long upon the
difficulties and trials which beset us. Lately we had an exhibition,
and many people in the garrison have consumed the past three weeks in
a feverish and untiring activity to complete their exhibits. Ladies
accomplished something rather fine in lacework, the men turned their
attention to constructing models of the town's defences, and one and
all entered into this little break in the monotony of the siege with
the cheering intention of getting as much out of the event as was
possible. Prizes varying from L5 to a sovereign were offered, and
indirectly, each endeavoured to foster the spirit of the town. It had
a beneficial effect, this artificial method of killing time, and it
realised some L50 for the hospital. There have been other things
besides the exhibition to stimulate the spirits of the garrison.
Native runners brought us the news of the fall of Bloemfontein, a
feature in the campaign which adds fresh laurels to the reputation of
Lord Roberts. His continued successes have been an _elixir vitae_, and,
indeed, so freely have we imbibed of this new medicine, that there
have been many who have found themselves possessed of a fresh
strength. There is, however, one thing which does not give any
satisfaction whatsoever to the little band of men who have held this
outpost of the Empire during so many weary months, and this is
embodied in the absence of any very definite signs of a speedy relief.
Lord Roberts has told us to hold out until the middle of May, but it
is a weary wait, and we could well see the van of the column crossing
the rise. Within the past few days the town has been swept by rumours
about the propinquity of the southern column; we have understood
Colonel Plumer has been within fifty miles of Mafeking for some weeks.
The rumours anent the southern relief place this column at any point
within two hundred miles of Mafeking; some days it has reached Taungs,
upon others it has not left Kimberley, again it is a week's march
north of Vryburg, and in the meantime we receive telegrams from London
congratulating us upon our successful and happy release. Where do
these rumours come from? How comes it that London should be in
ignorance of our condition?

We, who have followed with so much interest the fortunes of the
campaign, sharing in the success of others with all sincerity and
feeling reverses like personal insults, are disinclined to deny the
existence of a relief column; but perhaps it is not altogether
understood that, while we have food lasting till the middle of May, it
is not impossible to feel famished upon our present rations at the end
of March. Of food in the abstract there is an abundance, but the
condition and quality of the ration is such that it cannot be reduced
any further without immediately affecting the health of the garrison
and proving a very serious obstacle to the successful execution of any
work which may be detailed to the command. Experiments have been tried
for the purpose of discovering whether it were possible to exist, and
to work, upon an allowance of 8 oz. of meat and 4 oz. of bread, and,
while it was proved that the garrison might exist upon such short
commons, it would be very injudicious to issue this allowance, since
it caused a serious deterioration in the stamina of the men; it has,
therefore, been condemned. The bread is impossible, and, although
every effort be made to improve it, it still resembles a penwiper more
than a portion of bread. It is made from the common oats which one
gives to horses. These oats are crushed, but, sift them as you please,
treat them by every process which the ingenuity of the entire
garrison can devise, they positively bristle all over with
sharp-pointed pieces of the husks. Recently we have been promised Boer
meal, but it would appear, according to Captain Ryan, that the Boer
meal is to be held in reserve as long as possible. For the moment we
rather hanker after that reserve, and we do not take much of the
composite forage which is served us as bread. However, if we are
eating the rations of horses, the unfortunate people of Kimberley ate
the horses, and so, it would seem, our lot might be much worse. Horses
have not become our daily ration yet, although they form the basis of
a curious soup which is made and served out to the natives. The smell
of that soup turns many weary pedestrians from their usual paths,
although the spectacle of the starving natives swarming round the
soup-kitchen is one of the sights of the siege.

But, doubtless, those people who send us ridiculous messages of
congratulation may think that this is, after all, but the mere detail
of the siege--the side issue which should be expected, and which
should in any case be endured with a fine toleration. That is all
right; we do not mind the bread, we do not mind the aroma of the
soup-kitchen, but we do object to preposterous messages of
congratulation telling us "the siege is over," at the very moment when
the enemy is shelling us simultaneously from five different points.
The other day they endeavoured to concentrate their fire upon the
centre of the town, and, if they did not do this altogether, they most
certainly fired into Mafeking a weight of metal that has exceeded
every other day's. We had from sunrise until dusk 79 Creusot shells,
100 lb. each; 35 steel-capped, armour-piercing, delay-action,
high-velocity Krupp, 15 lb. each; 29 9-pounder Krupp; 57 3-pounder
Maxims; and such a merry flight of 5-pounders that these shells have
become a drug in the market, and to such an extent that we would very
gladly exchange between here and London, a few such stormy petrels as
a polite and cordial memento of the day of our deliverance. It is true
that in part we are relieved, since we have chosen to take the
initiative into our own hands and expelled the enemy from a position
on the south-eastern facing of the town which they have occupied since
the beginning of hostilities. This has given us immense relief, since
it has practically placed the town beyond the effective range of the
Mauser rifle and the Boer sharpshooters.

The trench was exceedingly well made, divided by traverses, protected
with a rear bank and a strong head cover. It was a mercy that we did
not attempt to storm it, and its remarkable strength and composite
construction goes some way to explain the difficulty which we have
experienced in making much impression, either by shell fire or
storming party, upon the Boer entrenchments. We did this in a single
night, having led up to such a climax by devoting our attentions to
this particular quarter. We bombarded them by day, we sniped them by
night, and sapped them in the intervals. For a brief moment the enemy
checked us, but it was only for a moment, and our fire was so warm and
so persistent that they relinquished their attempt to prevent our
advance, leaving, however, in their trench at the moment of evacuation
a little trifle, possibly forgotten in their scramble to the rear, of
250 lbs. of nitro-glycerine. The mine was at once located, the wires
were cut, the trench was occupied, and in the morning when day
dawned, instead of there being the roar of a great explosion, there
was simply the ruddy blaze of our artillery fire from the gun
emplacements which they had constructed and which we had converted to
our own use. But we have taken care of that little mine, and
possession of the trench leaves us masters of the situation. This,
however, is the only relief that has come to Mafeking.

The Boer possesses a natural aptitude for digging ditches and throwing
up earthworks, since his instinct tells him what not to do, much as
this same intuition teaches him how to secure the natural
fortifications of a kopje, and has made him, as the war has proved, a
foeman worthy of our steel. We have despised the Boer; we have
contumaciously called him a barbarian; but, nevertheless, these nomads
of the South African veldt have given the mighty majesty of England a
lesson which will take her many years to forget. Boer tactics are
unique, but one has to witness them to believe in their feasibility.
Their horses are so trained that when the reins are thrown over their
necks they remain immovable. Their fighting is based on this fact,
combined with the dictates of common-sense and their empirical, yet
successful manner of encountering us in the Gladstonian War. Each
commando of one hundred men is their unit; these are concentrated in
scattered groups in rear of their outpost lines, and upon coming in
contact with the enemy they endeavour to encircle their adversary,
cantering in eccentric circles until they are able to dismount in a
fold of ground near some coign of vantage. They are extraordinarily
adept at making the best of their cover, and they are most patient,
waiting hours for a shot, prone upon the ground, under a scorching
sun. It would seem that they have maintained their time-honoured
system, applying to the present campaign tactics possessing great
mobility, rapid powers of concentration on vulnerable points, and as
rapid retreats therefrom if seriously threatened. This power of rapid
movement incidental to all being mounted gives them great advantage,
increasing their powers of offence and defence, and representing the
crux of their theories of war. The Boer carries on his horse one
hundred rounds of ammunition, and rations of sun-dried beef sufficient
for four days. The horses feed upon the veldt. In four days the Boer
can cover two hundred miles, and it is this ability to move from point
to point with extraordinary despatch, that makes the Boer force a body
of mounted infantrymen possessing great strategical value. It has been
impossible not to admire the tactics which the Boers have pursued in
investing Mafeking, and where they have detached a force for any
special purpose the execution of their work has been accomplished with
laudable celerity. They dismantle and re-set, at an emplacement some
miles away, their big Creusot gun--a process which seldom occupies
them longer than between dusk and dawn; sometimes we see them moving
their guns northwards, and hear from natives that they arrived at a
point some thirty miles from Mafeking by daybreak. It may be that in
respect to the mobility of their forces we have much to learn, and let
us at least profit by the lessons which are thus afforded us.




CHAPTER XXXIII

TWO HUNDRED DAYS OF SIEGE


                               MAFEKING, _April 15th, 1900_.

There is now happily no longer any doubt of the truth of the native
reports of important successes having befallen our arms in the
vicinity of Kimberley. We hear with infinite rejoicing that Kimberley
has pulled through, and is no longer invested by the enemy, and almost
so soon as these tidings reached us, natives brought in the
unconfirmed news of the capture of Cronje. This has since been
officially published, and the garrison here is beginning to feel at
last that their turn is about to come! We have waited long for this
moment, passing many black hours in the interval, but even now it
seems that the power of England may be successfully defied by these
federated South African Republicans. Yet we hope and, in the changing
of the fortunes which we anticipate, we express and share in the
felicitous congratulations which the Empire is offering to Lord
Roberts. The shrewdness and tactical genius of this gallant veteran
has been a source from which the entire garrison has drawn an
inspiring hope which encouraged one and all to resist to the uttermost
the attacks of the Boers.

We have already been besieged six months, and although the internal
situation does not appreciably differ from that which existed on the
first day of the siege, the signs of the times betoken the gravity of
our condition. During recent days there have been two separate
indications of the straits to which the siege has reduced us. Colonel
Plumer endeavoured to pass into Mafeking a mob of cattle; the Almighty
sent a flight of locusts in such numbers that for many miles the veldt
was brown beneath the thousands which alighted upon it. Now the locust
is an article of diet, though it has not yet attained the dignity of
the position enjoyed by the nimble prawn. At present the locust is
compared only to a tasteless prawn, but it may be that when the siege
of Mafeking be raised and the world knows that no small portion of the
garrison were reduced to locusts without wild honey, this somewhat
unconvincing appetiser may be relegated to the office of a _hors
d'oeuvre_. Dame Fashion is responsible for so much that she might well
introduce to the social world such a toothsome delicacy. To catch your
locust is almost as difficult as to eat it, but it may be done by
turning out at night and throwing a blanket over any patch whose
numbers suggest the possibility of a profitable return. This, of
course, is not the native mode: the native, being as nimble as the
locust, goes for them on the rush, and sweeps them into heaps before
they have quite recovered from the shock of the surprise. By this
method you certainly secure your locust, by the other you generally
catch a cold, for the process of catching an individual locust is
somewhat laborious. However, it may be done, more especially where
there is the tedium of a siege to while away. Having caught your
locust, you then immerse him in boiling water, a treatment which at
once subdues him. You then proceed to sun-dry him and pluck away his
wings and head. The locust is then ready for the table, when, after
eating him, you discover that he has all the aroma and subtlety of
chewed string. For all the world one might as well munch string, but
since the possibilities of imparting to him an especial flavour be so
numerous and so eminently calculated to test the qualities of the
_chef_, he should again be commended to the notice of society in so
much that it is possible to create an altogether original locust.
There is, of course, another way of eating locusts, and that is to eat
them alive. This practice, however, is not held in any very great
esteem, since the native who cannot afford to wait to cook his locust
is _declasse_, even if he be starving. Personally, I rather like
locusts if they be fried, more especially if they be curried, for just
now the great thing is to eat, and, having digested what has been laid
before you, discreetly to ignore any question which might verify the
truth of your suspicions: therefore in eating curried locusts, you
thank Heaven for the curry, and pass on quickly to the next course. To
eat just now upon this basis is to enjoy consolation, which, in
relation to our food, is our sole form of enjoyment, since when you
know that you are eating horse and you imagine that you are eating
beef, your imagination is necessarily so strong and so triumphant that
the toughness of the horse becomes the tenderness of beef. Moreover,
everything is only a question of comparison, and as a consequence the
toughness of horse-beef and the tenderness of ox-beef necessitates
merely an exchange of terms which imply similar standards of
perfection.

The pleasures of the table, however, are as nothing compared to the
delights of the bombardment by which the Boers assail the town almost
daily. We have had more time these days to recognise the precise value
of the enemy's shell fire and its wide area of demolition--more time
because the Boers have withdrawn "Big Ben," and we no longer fear to
walk freely in the streets, nor are we kept constantly upon the alert
listening to the clanging of the alarm. The guns remaining do not
appear to be able to reach the town from their distant emplacements.
They are an array of minor ordnance, uninteresting to us, since their
attentions would seem to be directed upon the outposts and the
outlying forts. "Big Ben," however, was no respecter of places, but
gaily hurled defiance at us from a variety of points, maintaining with
wonderful regularity an almost daily bombardment.

We who are anxious for his welfare, now spend many dreary hours upon
the housetops, for, if we show appreciation of his presence by taking
refuge in the cellars, we ascend to the highest points of our houses
in order to make sure that he is gone. The sense of gratitude which
inspires us to do these things is unrestricted, and were it not that
there were smaller guns around us, we might have waved a parting
salutation from a more adjacent point; but under the circumstances we
are content, and although we feel sorry that he has left us, we shall
more infinitely deplore his presence when he returns. It is almost
pleasant in Mafeking just now, and if it were not for the scarcity of
food, the coldness of the weather, the never-ending rains, the fever
which exists (and of which we are all frightened), the entire absence
of wood with which to make fires, and the appalling monotony of the
days, the dreariness of the situation and the dulness of the people,
we might be happy, possibly inclined to exchange our lot for that of
anyone else who was not in Mafeking; but as it is, we are really
rather anxious to get out and to see the siege raised. Our nerves are
altogether raw, our tempers soured, our digestions failing. We were
young men six months ago, impressed with the importance of our
situation, invigorated with a determination to stick it out; but we
have aged considerably since then, and we would willingly send the
siege to the devil if we, by way of exchange, were permitted to
indulge in the comparative comfort of another form of purgatory. It
has become quite the accepted fashion to draw a simile between
Mafeking and hell, and to give the early Christian fathers full credit
for their powers; they were nevertheless quite incapable of imagining
a punishment so deliberate as the mental and physical torture of a
siege. To use a colonial colloquialism, "we went in blind," but one
experience is sufficient to guarantee that every member of the
garrison just now would put a thousand miles between him and the next
beleaguered town. In the situation itself there is nothing to write
about, it so constantly repeats itself until the absolute monotony of
the days settles down upon the nerves, depressing one's spirit like a
wet blanket. The Boers still fire at us, and we still sit tight,
nursing our hopes by a sublime confidence in the relief column. If we
be sceptical at times, we endeavour not to take our scepticism too
seriously, and we talk airily about the date by which the van will
have arrived here. But in reality there are but few people who believe
in the practical existence of any relief column.




CHAPTER XXXIV

THE EPICUREAN'S DELIGHT


                               MAFEKING, _April 30th, 1900_.

We have duly celebrated the two hundredth day of the siege, and if one
examines closely into the condition of a town which has withstood the
attacks of the enemy during two hundred days, it is to find a spirit
that is strong and self-reliant among the garrison and to realise the
sadness of the picture which presents the aspect of a town slowly
passing into ruin. The ravages of the siege have in no way been so
prominent as has been the case during the last few weeks. Mafeking of
yore was somewhat stately, although it was merely a colonial
up-country centre, possessing nothing which was grandiose or even
elegant. But its calm and unruffled dignity sprang from clusters of
stately trees around which it had sprung up, and from which in these
days of tempest and adversity it snatches something of their
independence, something of their indifference to the press of battle.
But now it is almost a treeless town, and it is difficult to go
anywhere without meeting the signs by which one may read the stress
and privation which a siege imposes upon a beleaguered village.
Mafeking was never a tiny town; it rambles too far over the veldt to
be considered even compact, but these natural features are now greatly
aggravated by the ruin which has fallen upon the outlying areas of the
town, causing even the most central streets to be disorderly in
appearance. From a very early date in the siege we have been
accustomed to the spectacle of ungainly structures stretching across
those thoroughfares which were exposed to the enemy's fire. These
traverses were among the earliest preparations of the war, but now, in
addition to these, at frequent intervals in the streets one comes
across shelter-pits which have been excavated in the various
thoroughfares. These protections against the enemy's shell and rifle
fire were not perhaps any lasting imposition upon the elegance of the
place, but as the siege developed its effects became more formidable
and were more calculated to leave traces of a permanent character.
To-day, perhaps, we are achieving to the end of this enforced
vandalism, since we have already utilised the garden fences and
demolished for the value of the wood which they may contain any houses
which may have been damaged by shell fire. Indeed, just now, we are
buying up the deserted huts of Kaffirs who have either been killed or
who have made their way with safety through the lines. These huts
comprise no small quantity of wood, so we are pulling them to pieces
on account of the props which support the reed roofing. But before we
ventured into the stadt for our wood, the trees in town were trimmed
of their branches, or, as in many cases, chopped down altogether, and
as a consequence the outward and visible sign of the results of the
siege is an infinite sense of desolation. There is now no longer the
gentle rustle of the trees as the night winds sigh through them; no
longer do the birds scramble amid the branches, screaming merrily.
There is no bird life now, for we have been unable to consider
sentiment in the ordering of our daily life. The best timber in the
town enjoys no greater immunity, since young and old trees each serve
their purpose. Where there was once order, there is now confusion.
Streets blockaded at one end are also furrowed by the many shells
which have come into the town; the walls of the houses have been
riddled with bullets, or wide, ragged holes gape where the projectiles
of "Big Ben" pounded their way through. Telegraph poles and lamp posts
are bent and twisted, some lying completely broken upon the roadside.
The roads and paths are covered with weeds, and everywhere the neglect
of the seven months' siege is in evidence. It is a depressing
spectacle, and it is well just now to close one's eyes to
everything--to the famine which is stalking in our midst, to the fever
which is raging round the outposts, to the ill-conditioned horses and
cattle, to the weary, patient women, to the children who,
unfortunately fortunate, have survived so much distress, and yet if
one looks a little forward it is difficult to see that the remedy will
be forthcoming. It has required the labour of years to rear the trees,
and in many cases the houses that were wrecked and upon whose sites
lie piles of rubble, represented the successful conception of a life's
handiwork which, destroyed in the passing of a moment, can never be
altogether replaced. There are many men and some few women who have
lost everything they possessed, and even if they receive an adequate
compensation will still feel the absence, in their new abodes, of
those subtle sentiments which made the fruition of their efforts so
dear and treasured to them. It is impossible not to feel this when
one perambulates through the town; every spot recalls something to the
mind of some one, an indelible association, emanating from the siege
and which time cannot obliterate. Men remember where they stood when
some particular house was shattered, others recall their proximity to
a bursting shell, whose explosion tore up the roadway. It is these
things which will never be effaced, since they are the impressions
which have struck deep down upon the mind, leaving an afterglow. But
as a rule we keep our cares, feeling that so many people have so much
else to worry them, recognising also that upon one and each of us the
siege hangs sorely. There can be no doubt that it has left its mark,
not only upon the town, but upon the garrison. The men are just a
little gaunt, just a little unkempt; the women are haggard and
careworn, for it is difficult to keep up one's spirit when from day to
day there comes no news, only that curious, ironical instinct, that
perhaps it may be that we are not to be relieved at all. The garrison
is famished, that is, in reality, the kernel of our situation. Our
energies are exhausted because our vital processes are insufficiently
nurtured. We are all listless; we all feel that the siege has been a
strain of the most severe description, and we are holding ourselves in
for the final rally, anxious to support the position, determined to
hold the town and occupy till the end our posts. Yet there is a false
note through it all, and in those moments when one finds oneself alone
one realises how artificial is the gaiety which we profess, feeling,
by intuition, that one's own emotions are alike those of one's
neighbour. However, each one of us endeavours to make an effort to
maintain in public some appearance of interest in the daily conditions
of the siege. It is a difficult part to play, because, as I have
said, there is so much that is unsatisfactory in our position. The
signs of the times are read by little things, and if one goes for a
walk round the outposts it is as well not to mention in the town the
presence of the fever flags which float over certain areas near which
it is not permitted to go. There are three such places; one is remote
from our lines, well out into the veldt, where, isolated and apart,
living in a world of their own making for the time being, is a family
fighting against the ravages of diphtheria; between them and the stadt
there is the smallpox reserve, where the yellow jack droops from the
trees beneath whose shade the tents of the patients have been pitched.
Still nearer into town at the hospital the flag of mercy protects a
building in which there is much malaria, some typhoid, and a few cases
of enteric fever. This is the gamut of our sickness, and it is in
these quarters that we, who are hale and hearty, look with anxious
eyes. There are many there who will pay their lives as tributes to the
siege, for, as in Ladysmith, so are we reduced to horseflesh, being
fortunate enough to possess, however, a small store of medical
comforts. The sick cannot be given very much, but we are very
solicitous for their welfare, and only lately the garrison as a body,
surrendered the ration of sugar to the needs of those who were ailing.
Our rations are sadly diminished; three-quarters of a pound of minced
horse-meat occasionally interchanged with mule and donkey flesh; four
ounces of horse forage, a microscopical quantity of tea and coffee,
pepper and salt, comprises the daily issue. Few of us have extras, but
there are many who indulge in experiments with certain toilet adjuncts
of an edible nature. Scented oatmeal, violet powder, poudre de ris,
and starch, have all been tested, and it would seem that starch is
the more adaptable. Recently I was allowed to taste a starch
blancmange, with glycerine syrup; it was excellent, and infinitely
better than scented oatmeal porridge. We also fry our meat in
cocoa-nut oil, in dubbin, and in salad oil--if we can "find" any.
Indeed, there is quite a boom in grease-stuffs for culinary purposes.
Aside from starch, violet face powder gives very fair results, but
when used as an ingredient for brawn, it is a hopeless failure. It
will be seen, therefore, that we are somewhat puzzled to know how to
satisfy our appetites, and we attempt infinite devices in order to
supplement our daily food supply; occasionally we shoot small birds
and less frequently we catch fish, but the size of both birds and fish
is such that a day's bag is seldom sufficient for a meal. If the
Europeans be exerting themselves to discover new processes by which to
cook inedible compounds, the natives also are at their wits' end, and
have resource to a variety of dishes which under more favourable
circumstances they would not touch. Pet dogs that are sleek, family
cats that are fat, are stolen nightly from the hotels and empty
houses, but they are invariably traced to native marauders, who,
inspired by hunger, prowl around by night seeking what they may
devour. These details give a somewhat gloomy aspect to our situation,
and if the truth be told our plight is quite sufficiently serious, but
it must not be imagined that by reason of these things we are
faint-hearted; we are not so. If we can pull through, and we are
proposing to make every effort, we shall be content, and we are
content, even at the present crisis, to think that it is not
altogether impossible that very earnest efforts are being made to
expedite our relief, and so alleviate our distress. Our
constitutions, perhaps, are somewhat impaired by the scarcity of food,
by dysentery and by fever, but we are well enough if the pinch should
come and the Boers again make a serious attack upon the town. We will
beat them off; possibly we may laugh at their efforts. It is only at
odd moments that we become depressed, when the intelligence does not
seem satisfactory, when our personal worries press too closely upon
us. In those moments we may perhaps take an unduly gloomy view of the
situation, but it is not so quick set that it cannot be dissipated by
the receipt of some good news, by a cablegram from the Queen, or a
message from Lord Roberts. It is these things after which we hanker,
and it is these things by which we keep up our hearts. That there
should be any possibility of a weak spirit manifesting itself at this
late hour need not be considered seriously for a moment, since above
all else, the garrison and townspeople of Mafeking have devoted
themselves to the work of holding this important outpost to the Empire
until such moment as the relief may come. In the beginning we
withstood six thousand men, just now there are not two thousand men
around us, and if they have more guns now than they had, we have also
strengthened our weak places and thrown out a chain of outposts
through which it should be impossible for an enemy to penetrate. Thus
we have made ourselves secure against everything but the menace of
starvation, and if there be anxiety upon our behalf in the centres of
the civilised world, the message which we send touches not upon the
question of relief, but asks that it should be remembered that, even
if our spirits endure, our foodstuffs will not last for ever. That is
the gist of our prayer, and we trust that it may receive some hearing.




CHAPTER XXXV

THE LAST FIGHT


                                 MAFEKING, _May 13th, 1900_.

From time to time intelligence has reached us from native sources that
the Boers were still anxious to make a final attempt to capture the
town. We have had this story repeated to us so frequently that there
were many in our midst who had altogether ceased to pay any attention
to it; but that there was some sincerity in the desire to attack us
has now been proved to be true, and it would seem that the obstacle
which existed, and which prevented an earlier realisation of the
enemy's plans, was the absence of any leader sufficiently capable and
enterprising to attempt the execution of so hazardous a venture.
However, when General Cronje delegated full command to General Snyman,
President Kruger sent from Pretoria his youthful but gallant nephew,
Commandant Eloff, who had not only frequently expressed his desire to
capture the town, but brought with him from Pretoria men whose special
knowledge of our fortifications had been gained when serving as
troopers in the Protectorate Regiment. It was these men who were
destined to conceive and carry to a successful conclusion the work of
projecting a body of the Boers within our interior lines. Weeks have
elapsed since Commandant Eloff arrived from Pretoria, but he has bided
his time, studying carefully our system of defence, our outlying
earthworks, and collecting all scraps of information which would
convey to him a more intimate knowledge of our position. For a time
his plans matured, but, as he conned them well over, he began to make
his preparations, recognising that, if he allowed many more days to
pass, the relief column from the south would be an additional and
important factor in his scheme of operations. Upon May 10th the relief
column had reached Vryburg, and Vryburg is only ninety-six miles from
Mafeking. Upon May 12th this southern column had advanced to
Setlagoli, a point only forty-five miles distant from the town, and
the receipt of this intelligence, which was brought to Commandant
Eloff by his scouts, revealed to him the urgency and absolute
necessity of carrying out his attack upon the town. It was a
well-considered scheme, whose eventual success was only nullified by
the lack of cohesion and estranged relations which existed between
General Snyman and Commandant Eloff. It was a glorious day for
Mafeking; it was a day of honourable misfortune for the Boers.
Mafeking fell heavily upon Eloff, recapturing the fort which the Boers
had surprised and taken in the early morning, and thereby effecting
the release of the thirty-two prisoners whom the Boers had caught, and
causing known casualties among the Boers of killed, wounded, and taken
prisoners, 139.

[Illustration: Killing Horses for the Natives and Entire Garrison.]

Commandant Eloff had designed to pierce our western lines under cover
of a well-organised feint upon the eastern front of the town. Upon the
morning of May 12th and a little before 4 a.m., the bells sounded a
general alarm and the bugles summoned a general assembly of available
arms to all posts. As in the early days of the siege, I ran from my
hotel to Musson's Fort, where, upon similar occasions, I have served
as a volunteer. There was no sign of disturbance in the west, but very
heavy firing was breaking over the town from the main position of the
enemy in the east. Gradually this fire was extended until the flanking
positions of the Boers north-east and south-east were also engaged. As
we stood to our arms in the fort, it seemed that they were directing
an attack upon the brickfields, when, just as it appeared to be the
usual innocuous fusilade, streaks of fire were seen leaping to the sky
towards the west; there was a lurid glow across the native stadt and
dense clouds of smoke were drifting and piling heavily towards the
north. There was instant commotion in the fort, everybody exclaiming
at once that the stadt was ablaze. At that moment we did not realise
that the conflagration which we saw was the deliberate work of the
enemy, although there were many who, catching sight of the blaze,
concluded that the attack upon our eastern front was the blind to a
movement of much greater importance upon the west. Thoroughly aroused
and anxious to learn the reasons of the fire, I returned to the hotel.
By this time rifle fire had slackened upon the east of the town, but
bullets were coming over from the west, the town being under this
cross-fire. There were few people about the town, and, save for an
occasional group of frightened women, one saw no one. My horse was
already saddled, and, riding to the front of the town, I at once
recognised that the Boers were in the stadt. Huts were burning in all
directions, the separate fires blending into a sheet of flame; dense
smoke overhung everything. There was the crackle of the burning
huts, and showers of golden sparks tossed themselves into the air. It
was still dark and the hour was about five; a lemon- dawn,
sheathed in the golden glory of the fire and obscured by the
grey-black waves of smoke, was slowly breaking, following closely upon
the heels of a flame- night. It was the hour when confusion
reigns supreme, when it is impossible to tell tree from man, an
outcrop of stone from a recumbent beast. It was the very hour in which
to attack, but the Boers secured an additional advantage from the
dense and heavy smoke which filled the atmosphere, making the gloom
more impenetrable than ever and screening effectually the rapidity of
their progress. Heavy firing was proceeding from the direction of the
stadt, and there was a confused babel of voices. Natives were running
in all directions, and against the flames groups of figures were
noticeable in silhouette.

There seemed little doubt that the situation at this moment was grave
in the extreme. The Boers in the stadt, dividing rapidly, had advanced
upon the British South Africa Police Fort, in which from the beginning
of the siege the regimental headquarters of the Protectorate Regiment
have been installed. At this moment Colonel Hore and the officers and
men attached to the regimental headquarters staff, including four
belonging to the British South Africa Police, numbered some
twenty-three. Preparing to resist the invasion, Colonel Hore had
already manned the earthwork, which from the days of the Warren
expedition has been designated as a fort. The distance between the
stadt and the fort is about four hundred yards, and around the
regimental headquarters lie scattered numerous outbuildings. It is an
impossible place to hold with a small number of men, while the
outbuildings are so situated as to afford very excellent cover to any
troops which may be advancing with the intention of surrounding the
main buildings; and it was this manoeuvre which Commandant Eloff was
endeavouring to carry to a successful issue. Scattering quickly, and
under the cover of the different houses, he advanced within a very
short distance of the fort. In the dim light, obscured by smoke, and
in part concealed by the native refugees, it was impossible to tell
whether these men were the van of a Boer force or our own outposts in
process of retirement upon Colonel Hore. Under the guidance of Trooper
Hayes, a deserter from the Protectorate Regiment, seven hundred Boers
had rushed the interior lines of the outposts, making their way along
the bed of the Molopo and through Hidden Hollow into the stadt. The
movement had been noticed by the outposts, who, unable to do anything
against such overwhelming odds, had given the alarm and fallen back
upon either flank, delivering a flanking fire when the Boers were
discovered. Arriving in the stadt, Commandant Eloff had ignited the
huts in various directions, in this manner giving to the main body of
the Boers their signal to advance. Before the rush of Commandant
Eloff's men the Baralongs separated, reforming behind the enemy, in
order to co-operate with our advanced outposts in repelling the
progress of the main body. From the moment that this was accomplished
the Boers outside our lines and those who were within the stadt were
cut off from one another; but, leaving half his force in the stadt,
Commandant Eloff, with whom were Captain Von Weiss and Captain de
Fremont, prepared to assault the fort, and, advancing rapidly upon it,
had surrounded it with but little difficulty. When the little band of
men saw the Boers emerging from stadt, fire was at once opened upon
them, but, as they claimed to be friends, and as it was understood
that they were our own outposts, the fire from the fort ceased until
the enemy were within sixty yards of its front face, being at the same
time, unknown to the inmates of the fort, in occupation of the
buildings upon either flank and in the rear.

This, then, was the situation which had come to pass within three
hundred yards of the railway and about seven hundred yards from the
town. In the town itself the Town Guard, the Bechuanaland Rifles, and
the entire strength of the Railway Division had been ordered at once
to man the railway line. The men from the Hospital Redan and the
establishment from Early's Corner Fort were detailed to the line in
addition to the Bechuanaland Volunteers, while the Railway Division,
screening their movements behind the corrugated iron fencing which
encloses the railway yards, and perforating rifle holes in the
sheeting of the fence, were given charge of the railway yards.
Lieutenant Feltham and his troop of C Squadron supported Major Panzera
and the artillery at the railway bridge, while, under orders from
Colonel Baden-Powell, Lieutenant Montcrieff advanced a section of the
Town Guard to occupy a house a little removed from the new line of
defences which had been already taken up. The town itself, agog with
excitement, had been reinforced by the Cape Police from the
brickfields and the British South Africa Police from the kopje, and
with these forces opposing them, the Boers at the fort found their
further advance cut off, while, unless General Snyman forced the
passage of the outposts and brought up his artillery, the entire body
would be hemmed in.

In the meantime Commandant Eloff demanded the unconditional surrender
of the twenty-three men who were established at the fort, an order
which, had Colonel Hore refused, implied that every man with him would
be shot. Then, in that moment, it was known that the cheering which
had been heard in Hidden Hollow a few moments before was the
triumphant chortle of the Boers as they stepped within the inmost
lines of our defences. Around the fort there was silence--there was a
terrible silence; there was a man who was weighing in his hand and in
his heart the lives of twenty-two others, who was considering in a
fleeting moment of time the flight of an honourable career which had
brought to him a string of six medals, and who saw in one of two steps
instant death for his little band and irrevocable and almost
irretrievable ruin in the other. The pause was indeed death-like;
there was the hallowed uncertainty of a future existence, but there
was the moral certainty that no living future would fall to the lot of
any of the twenty-three men upon whose ears the cry had fallen of
surrender. The position was hopeless. With the Boers behind them, with
the Boers flanking them, with the Boers in front of them, with three
hundred of the enemy within a circumference of seventy yards, what
more could an honourable man and a gallant officer do than accept the
responsibility of his situation and save the lives of his men by
complying unconditionally with the demand of the enemy? Thus did
Colonel Hore surrender. It was impossible to withdraw to the town.
Such a movement would have meant retirement over seven hundred yards
of open, level ground without a particle of cover and with a force of
three hundred of the enemy immediately in the rear; moreover the
situation imperatively demanded this action in consequence of events
over which he had no control. It was, perhaps, a moment as pathetic
and great as any in his career. The surrender was effected at 5.25
a.m., and was not without incident, for with the garrison holding up
their hands, their arms laid down, with five Boers within a few yards
of the Colonel with their rifles at his breast, there was one man who
went to his death. "I'll see you damned, you God forgotten----" said
Trooper Maltuschek, and he went to his Maker the next moment. The news
of such a catastrophe did not tend to relieve the gravity of the
situation. With the Boers in the fort and in occupation of the stadt,
it was necessary so to arrange our operations that any junction
between the stadt and the fort would be impossible; at the same time
we were compelled to prevent those Boers who were in the stadt from
cutting their way through to the main body of the enemy. The situation
was indeed complex, and throughout the remainder of the day the
skirmishing in the stadt and the repulse of the feints of the enemy's
main body, delivered in different directions against the outposts,
were altogether apart from the siege, which we were conducting within
our own investment. From the town very heavy rifle fire was directed
upon the fort, which the Boers in that quarter returned with spirit
and determination. But the position in the stadt had become acute,
since, behind our outposts and our inner chain of forts, which are
situated upon its exterior border, were a rollicking, roving band of
four hundred Boers, who, for the time being, were indulging in pillage
and destruction wherever it was possible.

[Illustration: The British South Africa Police Fort, Colonel Hore's
Headquarters.

_The Bomb-proof shelter in the foreground was the Colonel's refuge
during the enemy's shell fire._]

Gradually, however, the situation changed. The rifle fire from the
town had forced the Boers back from the limits of the stadt adjacent
to the fort, enabling Inspector Murray and a troop of the Cape Police
and Lieutenant Feltham with his troop of C Squadron to fight their way
to this same border, affording to the town a definite and established
barrier against any possible communication between the enemy in the
fort and the Boers in the stadt. Skirmishing thenceforward progressed
over the entire area of the stadt. Major Godley, with Captain Marsh
and Captain Fitzclarence, and B and D Squadrons, effectively supported
by the Baralongs, chevied and rounded up the Boers from point to
point, until, shortly after noon, they took up a strong position in a
mule kraal and upon the facings of some neighbouring kopjes. To
dislodge these men was the work to which Major Godley now directed his
attention, and, manoeuvring carefully and with discretion, he
surrounded the position upon three sides and emplaced a seven-pounder
under Lieutenant Daniel, of the British South Africa Police, within
two hundred yards of the kopje. The enemy were now compelled to fight
or to surrender, and, refusing the request to surrender, they fought
pluckily, and with such stubbornness that they kept Major Godley's men
some time at bay. But, gradually drawing his circle closer, he poured
in a few terrific volleys and charged the position at the point of the
bayonet. There was a rapid volley from the Boers, but it was of no
avail, and, as the glistening steel was poised for a moment over the
walls of the kraal, a flutter of white from the interior betokened
that at least this body of the enemy had surrendered. Major Godley
then proceeded to shell the kopjes, but the Boers at this point were
not proposing to increase by their numbers those of the twenty-five
who had laid down their arms in the mule kraal. They scattered and
broke into the stadt, fighting from hut to hut, from rock to rock,
from snug hollows to the broken points of the many rugged mounds which
characterise the configuration of the stadt. These skirmishes
continued, and Major Godley contrived to drive the scattered Boers in
the direction of Captain Lord Charles Bentinck, who, so conducting his
operations, managed to hem the enemy in between the fire of Major
Godley and that of his own men. It would have been impossible for the
Boers to escape; but dusk was falling, our men were weak and hungry,
and we already had a number of prisoners, and, after a sharp rally
between the three squadrons, Major Godley instructed Captain Lord
Charles Bentinck to withdraw C Squadron and assist in driving out the
enemy.

These, then, were the events which were occurring in the stadt, and,
if Major Godley had been successful in circumventing the Boer plan and
checking any very definite occupation of the stadt, the outposts had
also successfully repulsed the indifferent and weak-hearted attempts
which General Synman had made to assist his colleague. There had been
a definite plan of attack, and, although a portion of it was
successful, its main features had failed because their execution had
been left to a man who, faint-hearted and cowardly, was altogether
unworthy of the command with which he had been entrusted. Upon General
Synman must fall the responsibility of Commandant Eloff's capture,
inasmuch as he failed to support his share of the operations. The Boer
movement upon the town was carried out with remarkable precision and
extraordinary dash, but, despite their splendid gallantry and
enterprise in penetrating so far within our lines, the fatality which
would seem to attend their attacks upon Mafeking rendered their
present efforts again unprofitable, causing their assault to recoil
upon their own heads. It had been the intention of the Boers to make
the fort the key of a position from which they were proposing to shell
the town with the guns which would have been brought up by the main
body. But General Snyman did not fulfil his obligations to Commandant
Eloff, and, as a consequence, when the siege of the fort had been
effected the little which they could accomplish had been concluded,
and they found themselves compelled to defend their newly-won position
from the galling fire and spirited attacks of the townsmen. Their
position, only seven hundred yards from the town, would have proved
untenable much earlier in the day, had not the Boers secured the
officers and staff of the regimental headquarters as their prisoners.
We should have shelled them and in all probability caused tremendous
carnage; as it was, however, killed and wounded upon either side were
not numerous, although there is some ground to believe that the Boers
were successful in carrying off a large proportion of their wounded.
Upon the following morning, when the returns for the previous day were
made up, it was found that 110 had been taken prisoners, ten had been
killed, and nineteen had been wounded. Our own casualties were four
killed and seven wounded, while there were five natives who had
received slight wounds. These are the figures, correct, so far as we
can ascertain, of this very remarkable day--a day which is almost
without parallel in the history of war, inasmuch as the garrison, who
in themselves had sustained a seven months' siege, were yet able once
more to turn the tables upon their enemy, who, although penetrating
into the heart of the invested town, failed to carry the position.

During the morning of the fight, after accompanying Lieutenant
Montcrieff to Major Hepworth's house, where he was engaged in
installing a section of the Town Guard, I thought that I would attach
myself to Colonel Hore, since his headquarters appeared to be a
central position in the engagement. It was only a short ride--a few
hundred yards. The bullets whistled over from the stadt, and I
scampered rapidly across in order to gain what I thought was
protection from this fire. The light was not clear, and the smoke was
still drifting across the line of vision. Men were standing about the
regimental headquarters, some were scurrying, many were sitting upon
the stoep facing the town. It did not seem to me possible that these
could be Boers; but, as I galloped on, my horse was struck, and,
swerving violently, I found myself pulled up short by a peremptory
demand to surrender. They were Boers, or rather they were the enemy,
for there were Germans, Italians, and Frenchmen, and a few
Republicans.

They ordered me to hold my hands up, they ordered me to give up my
revolver and to get off my horse; they asked me a dozen questions at
the same time, speaking in Dutch, French, and English. As I sat upon
my horse we conducted quite an animated conversation, but the bullets
were coming from our men in town rather rapidly, and it seemed to
strike the Boers that they had best take cover, advice which I pressed
home upon them with much irony. In the meantime I had not dismounted,
nor had I given up my revolver, nor were my arms thrust upwards in the
air. "Will you hold your damned hands up?" said one, playfully
thrusting a rifle into my ribs. "With pleasure, under the
circumstances," I replied with alacrity. "Will you hand over that
revolver?" said another. "What, and hold my hands up at the same
time?" asked I, quibbling to gain a little time in which to think.
"Get off your horse," said another, when, as they unstrapped my belt,
I rolled to the ground. It was only then that I knew my horse had been
shot in the shoulder, and as they dragged me to the shelter of the
building, I asked them to shoot him. They refused. "Your men will do
that soon enough," said they, and it seemed to me that this was the
unkindest cut of all. The poor animal stood there looking at me. When
I saw him again his throat had been cut, and there were seven bullet
wounds in his body.

The fort had surrendered. Colonel Hore, Captain H. C. Singleton,
Veterinary-Lieutenant Dunlop-Smith, with fifteen non-commissioned
officers and men of the Protectorate Regiment, Captain Williams and
three men of the British South Africa Police, and five native servants
were prisoners in the hands of the enemy. Around them were numbers of
the enemy talking rapidly in French, German, Italian, and Dutch, while
there were also many who spoke English. They were all well armed,
carrying some 250 rounds of ammunition with eight days' rations in
their haversacks. Some were eating breakfast, many were drinking from
bottles which they had looted from the regimental mess; occasionally
the group around us was swelled by the numbers of those who, hitherto
engaged in looting the quarters of the officers, were now mostly
anxious to preserve their skins from the fire from the town and to
enjoy an inspection of their plunder. In the short time which the
enemy had been in possession of the fort many of them had ransacked
the premises, breaking open boxes, cutting open bags, and generally
appropriating all the effects which they found. It seemed to me at
this moment that the men engaged in this work were Boers, as distinct
from the foreign element in their force, and I thought that I caught a
current of conversation which was passing in French between two of our
captors, and which denounced the unnecessary and almost wanton
destruction which was in progress.

From the remarks which were passing round us it seemed that the
majority were discussing the precise treatment which should be dealt
out to the prisoners. At this moment Trooper Hayes, deserter,
swaggered towards the circle; he sported Colonel Hore's sword, and a
gold chain and watch dangled from his belt. Hearing the subject of the
conversation, he at once suggested that we should either be made to
stand upon the verandah, a mark to the fire of our own men, or be
given the opportunity of taking up arms and joining in the defence of
the fort. "You cannot do that, I'm a war correspondent," said I in
English to a Boer who was speaking fluent English to a friend. "You be
damned!" said he, pleasantly enough, "we'll put you upon the roof."
But at that moment Commandant Eloff approached and ordered our removal
to a building in the centre of the fort, which hitherto had been used
as the storeroom for the regimental mess. Into this they crowded us,
together with three others who, visiting the fort in ignorance of the
turn of affairs, had likewise been taken prisoners. We were thus
thirty-two, and were confined for the day in a space which was not
only short and narrow, but ill-ventilated, dirty, littered with
rubbish, and already smelling horribly. Firing from town had now begun
in earnest, and the bullets whistled and cracked and spat all round
the fort. They struck upon the stones and spattered the roof with
splinters of rock and lead, while we could detect from these signs how
ably directed and how fierce was the rifle fire which was delivered
from the town. When they had safely secured us in the storehouse the
space in front of the building was at once occupied by some
sixty-seven men, who crouched up against the walls of the house or lay
within the lee of the exterior wall of the fort. From time to time
these men moved to points whence the fire was hottest, seeming to take
their share of the work in pleasing earnestness and with much
keenness. Occasionally those who were without and around the door
handed in fragments of dried meat and broken biscuits, but the
quantity was not great, and there were many of us who had nothing to
eat all day, while few Boers or prisoners had anything to drink. Early
in the morning bullets from the town had perforated the water tanks,
and as a consequence there was no water to drink, nor was there
anything with which to alleviate the sufferings of the wounded. As the
day wore on many casualties occurred among the Boers in the fort, and
the absence of efficient medical aid among his men prompted Commandant
Eloff to appeal to us for assistance, whereupon Veterinary-Lieutenant
Dunlop-Smith, Farrier-Corporal Nichols and Forbes, the regimental
canteen-keeper, offered and rendered valuable services to the wounded
Boers, running the gauntlet of our own fire in the cause of a common
humanity. Early in the fight the Boers took over the Children's
Hospital, which was located some two hundred yards away from the fort,
and in which those devoted nurses, Mrs. Buchan and her sister, Miss
Crawfurd, remained the entire day, attending indiscriminately to the
sick children, to the wounded Boers who were brought there, and
bringing upon two occasions tea to the prisoners. During the progress
of the fight we constantly caught glimpses of the Red Cross flag
escorting one or other of these gallant ladies to points where wounded
Boers were lying. Throughout the fight the Boers respected the
conventions, repeatedly expressing their appreciation and their
gratitude for the services of these ladies. For this courtesy
Commandant Eloff was largely responsible, and indeed if there was any
abuse of the Red Cross flag the blame of such disrespect cannot be
charged against the enemy, since our side, I understand, issued orders
that the men of the firing line were not to take notice of any white
flags which the Boers displayed. The enemy respected its conventions,
treated the prisoners humanely, and behaved throughout a situation
almost maddening from the strain which it must have imposed upon them
with conspicuous gallantry, coolness, and consideration.

In our prison the situation was more than uncomfortable, and when
towards evening they locked the door the atmosphere became fetid, and
was seriously aggravated by the condition of a man who was suffering
acutely from the agonies of dysentery. In a recess, piled up, were
the stores of the regimental mess, comprising principally cases of
liquors--whisky, Beaunne, pommade, and lime-juice. In a big open crate
were tinned provisions of an indefinite character--fruits, peas, and
parsnips, and other canned luxuries. These were at once looted by the
troopers, who in this respect and the indifferent manner in which they
received the orders of their officers, did not set a particularly
praiseworthy example. Within the storehouse, however, the prisoners
mingled irrespective of rank, and mutually sympathetic in the face of
common misfortune. At first every man seemed to be smoking, but
gradually the atmosphere became so bad that it was absolutely
necessary to desist, and all pipes, cigars, and cigarettes were
ordered to be put out. Commandant Eloff returned constantly to the
prisoners, chatting brightly with them and sympathising upon the
fortunes of war. He sat within the door upon a case of Burgundy, his
legs dangling, his accoutrements jingling, and the rowels of his spurs
echoing the tick-tacking of the Mauser rifles. Herein and within our
presence the drama of the situation was slowly passing; orderlies came
and went, but the Commandant, still tapping with his spurs, continued
to issue his instructions and his orders. He seemed to possess the
complete mastery of the situation; his buoyant face was impressed with
the confidence of youth, reflecting the happiness he felt in so much
that his ambition seemed to be about to be realised. But as the
situation became more critical, beneath the brightness of his manner
he seemed to be feeling the gravity of his position. At times he lost
control of himself and complained querulously in Dutch about the
non-appearance of his reinforcements; at other moments he regaled the
prisoners with scraps of information relating to the situation, and by
this means we learnt that Limestone Fort had fallen, and that the
trench beneath the railway bridge had surrendered. This news was, of
course, not particularly pleasing, and it somewhat added to our
dejection when we learnt that, when night arrived, we were to be
marched to the south-western laager and thence to be conveyed to
Pretoria. I never wished less to see a place than I did the Transvaal
capital at this moment. Since Commandant Eloff made himself so
agreeable I was moved to chat with him. We discussed the situation in
China and the feeling which America was showing for the Boers. To this
latter he did not attach much importance, shrugging his shoulders as
he said, "Americans and the English----" The pause was eloquent, and I
changed the conversation, requesting his courteous permission, should
the fortunes of the day go with him, to communicate with the _Times_.
He expressed surprise at my being a correspondent, and said that he
thought the correspondents had more sense than to get themselves
captured. Then he laughed and asked my name. I told him, upon which he
replied, "I have heard of you, but I have not read any of your stuff;
you have been writing unpleasant things about the Boers." I retired
crestfallen to the darkest corner I could find and reflected upon the
character of the punishment which General Snyman would mete out to a
man who had been so iniquitous as to write "unpleasantly about the
Boers." Night was coming on rapidly now, and we were rather glad,
since it removed from us the horror of being with the enemy and
watching while they fired upon our own men. It seems to me that the
strain which emanates from such a sight is more awful than anything
in the world.

As dusk settled down we prisoners, crowding in a small room, could
hear echoes of desperate fighting outside. Bullets penetrated the
wall, perforated the roofing, crashed through the windows, splintered
the door. Ever and anon the fire would die away, breaking out again
spasmodically within a few minutes. Through the grating of the windows
we could see the enemy keeping an alert look-out; we could see them
scurrying and scrambling to defend the points against which the firing
was heaviest; we saw the limping figures of the wounded; we heard
voices cursing us, threatening the prisoners, and urging Commandant
Eloff to handcuff and march us out across the line of fire while the
Boers used us as a screen to escape; while upon one occasion the door
opened suddenly and three wounded Boers precipitated themselves
violently into the room. The inside of the building was pitch dark by
now, and lighted only by the fitful flashing of the rifles, which made
almost a glow within. Straining eagerly at the windows, we caught
glimpses of a number of Boers scrambling over the exterior walls of
the fort, in order, we afterwards learnt, to make good their retreat.
This movement to the rear surprised us and was followed by a terrible
outburst of firing, caused by the order of Commandant Eloff to shoot
down the fugitives. Then time dragged heavily, and we were hungry and
tired and faint when there seemed signs of a rally among the Boers.
After an interval of extraordinarily heavy firing, in which the noise
from the snap of bullets and the reports of the rifles were deafening,
there was a sudden silence. Commandant Eloff rushed to the door, and,
summoning Colonel Hore, stated that if he could induce the town to
cease fire the Boers would surrender. It was an altogether unexpected
_denouement_, and in that moment there was not one amongst us who did
not think that each in his turn was about to be summoned to an instant
execution. We feared a ruse, and whispered to Colonel Hore, as he
advanced to meet the commandant, to be careful. Our momentary
hesitation caused Commandant Eloff to surrender himself as a hostage
until the cessation of fire could be arranged. The Boers, like
ourselves, were unable to grasp the situation, and seeing their
commandant in our midst, made an attempt to rescue him, which only
helped to increase the confusion of the moment. Commandant Eloff
called out, "Surrender, surrender," and endeavoured strenuously to
pacify his men. We, upon our part, shouted to the town to cease fire;
this was at once done, whereupon sixty-seven Boers laid down their
arms, handing them to the prisoners, who piled them up within the
storehouse. Those of us who were not engaged in this work seized
rifles and bandoliers from the heap and manned the defences of the
fort until the prisoners could be delivered into proper custody. The
Boers were then marched off and were found accommodation in the
Masonic Hall and in the gaol. As I retraced my steps to the town and
was passing the stables of the British South Africa Police Fort, the
groaning of a wounded man caught my ear. I ran to him to find that
lying within the shelter of the stables, with a wound through his
thigh, was the man to whom I had surrendered myself in the morning. We
smiled as he handed over to me his rifle and bandolier. My revolver he
had lost, but lying beside him, stiff and dead, with a bullet wound
through his forehead, was, by one of those extraordinary coincidences
which do happen, the man who had shot my horse. And thus this day of
melodrama passed; dramatic in its beginning, dramatic in its
conclusion, with enough bloodshed, firing, and animation to satisfy
the cravings of the most dispassionate seeker after excitement.
Commandant Eloff, Captain von Wiessmann, Captain Bremont, dined at
Headquarters. The town came to greet the prisoners, drink was
unearthed, and everybody seemed to be congratulating somebody upon
their mutual good fortune. We who had been prisoners and were now free
rejoiced in the liberty which was restored to us, yet it was difficult
to restrain oneself from feeling compassionately upon the great
misfortunes which had attended the extraordinary dash and gallantry of
the men who were now our prisoners. They had done their best. They
proved to us that they were indeed capable and that we should have
kept a sharper look-out, while it was indeed deplorable to think that
it was the treachery of their own general, in abandoning them to their
fate, that had been mainly instrumental in procuring them their
present predicament.




CHAPTER XXXVI

RELIEVED AT LAST


                                  WEDNESDAY NIGHT, 7.30 P.M.
                                 MAFEKING, _May 16th, 1900_.

The relief of Mafeking is now an accomplished fact, and the first
Imperial troops to enter our lines were eight of the Imperial Light
Horse, under the command of Major Karri Davis. They had ridden in
advance of the main body in an effort to pierce our lines while
General Mahon, who had already formed a junction with Colonel Plumer,
was engaging the main body of the enemy along the watershed of the
Molopo, some seven miles north-west of the town.

We had known since Sunday that an Imperial force was approaching
Mafeking from the south, and during Monday immense activity was
displayed in the Boer laagers, while towards the south-west a thick
fringe of dust was drifting slowly under the commotion of a column of
Boers who were retiring rapidly before the approach of the Southern
force. During Tuesday we thought we heard the distant booming of the
guns, and we could see the Boers preparing to take up positions along
the north-western ridges of the Molopo River. At an early hour on
Tuesday morning news reached us that the respective commands of
General Mahon and Colonel Plumer had joined at Saane's Town, a few
miles up the valley of the river. From the moment that the town
received this news the memory of the past seven months was dissipated
in the first flash of the glad tidings. Speculation was rife as to the
precise hour of the arrival of the relief, but the day passed without
much prospect of the siege being raised before nightfall. However,
this morning the most positive information had arrived during the
night, and it seemed that within the next forty-eight hours the
combined forces would be here. The morning passed uneventfully. No one
seemed quite to know how to spend the few remaining hours which were
all that remained of the siege. About noon it became known in town
that the forces would not enter Mafeking without having a smart brush
with the enemy. We had observed small, detached forces of Boers making
from north and south of the town for the ridges about the western
areas of the Molopo. Artillery accompanied these men, whose numbers
had been drawn from the various Boer positions around Mafeking. A
large contingent had moved from the eastern laager and similar bodies
had been called out from the south-western and northern camps. It was
an anxious time for us in Mafeking, and, although there was no doubt
about the final result, we still felt that the fate of the relief
column hung in the balance. About half-past two General Mahon's guns
opened upon the enemy, the smoke of the bursting shells being plainly
discernible away towards the north-west. There was a constant booming
of artillery, and the smoke of heavy rifle fire just above the
horizon. As the news swept through the town there were many who
gathered upon coigns of vantage to witness the action. It was
impossible to see details, and indeed it was about half-past four
before we even caught sight of the moving masses of men. It seemed
then that the Boers were falling back; the artillery had ceased to
play, and we were under the impression that they were engaged in
taking up fresh positions. About five o'clock a large force of Boers
was noticed moving rapidly along the ridge to the east, while a
smaller body of three hundred men, detaching themselves from the main
column, were riding rapidly towards the west.

In the meantime Colonel Baden-Powell, Colonel Hore, Colonel Walford,
of the British South Africa Police, and Captain Wilson, A.D.C. to the
Colonel commanding, had taken up their position upon the roof of the
railway sheds, where during the last few days a special outlook had
been prepared. The scene in the railway yards was animated and
dramatic, and in order to be close at hand I secured permission to sit
upon the ladder which led to the outlook. In the town people were
taking events quite calmly. The final in the siege billiard tournament
was taking place at the club, and in many other respects it seemed
difficult to realise that our deliverance was at hand. Between the
railway yards and the outposts there were men shooting small birds,
while in the yards around us natives were engaged in skinning and
cutting the carcase of a horse which, shot overnight, had been handed
over to the soup-kitchens. For perhaps an hour everything was calm and
peaceful, but ever and anon the bubble of voices reached me from the
roof as orders were transmitted over the telephone to Headquarters.
Of a sudden Captain Wilson scrambled down the ladder, calling an
order to Lieutenant Feltham to saddle up the horses and mount. While
this work was in progress orders were issued to Captain Cowan, of the
Bechuanaland Rifles, to march his men at once to the barracks of the
Protectorate Regiment, while in a cloud of dust and with a cheering
rattle Major Panzera galloped by with the guns. "I think we can catch
them," said Colonel Baden-Powell, and a minute afterwards he had
mounted his horse and was off. I found that he was referring to the
detached party of three hundred Boers who were making their way from
the scene of the fight in a south-westerly direction. I mounted and
followed, and the small force which had thus been rapidly collected
moved quickly towards our extreme position in the north-west of the
town. It was just possible that we should catch them between the fire
of General Mahon's guns and our own, and there was every necessity for
speed. In a short time we were out at the "Standard and Diggers' News
Fort," where, while our horses were given a short rest, the guns were
unlimbered. That particular body of Boers who had been our objective
seemed to be unconscious of the movement which had taken place in our
own lines. As they emerged from the valley we opened fire and turned
their head. For a moment they did not seem to realise their situation,
when they rapidly wheeled about and put themselves out of range by a
hurried retreat towards the main body. Dusk was now falling, and it
was impossible to see any longer, and as a consequence the guns were
ordered to retire to town and the men to return. It was half-past six
when we reached town, and General Mahon's artillery had not been heard
to fire for quite an hour. We went to dine, cheered by the comforting
and consoling thought that by noonday upon the morrow the siege would
be raised. However, about seven o'clock, in the bright moonlight, and
totally unexpected, eight mounted men suddenly appeared in the Market
Square. In a short space of time the news flashed round the town, and
a concourse of people gathered to cheer vociferously about the
precincts of the Headquarters Office. As round after round of cheers
broke out it became known that these mysterious horsemen had galloped
in under Major Karri Davis with a despatch from General Mahon. In a
trice they were surrounded, besieged with questions, clapped upon the
back, shaken by the hand, and generally welcomed. These plucky
troopers seemed as surprised as ourselves and as glad. Major Karri
Davis called for cheers for the garrison, while the crowd took up with
tremendous fervour the National Anthem and "Rule Britannia." It was an
exciting moment and a picturesque scene, bathed in the soft moonlight
and irradiated by the glow of countless stars; but the men were
hungry, and Major Lord Edward Cecil, the chief staff officer, busied
himself in making arrangements for the care of these eight Imperial
Light Horse, who, not content with relieving Ladysmith, had insisted
upon being accorded the privilege of making the first entry into
Mafeking.

That night the town retired early, but about two in the morning a
subdued roar came from the direction of the north-western outposts,
and in a very little time word was passed round that the troops were
making their entrance into Mafeking. Just as the relief column had
proceeded from Vryburg without any flourish of trumpets, so was their
entry into Mafeking unexpected and unostentatious. But the town had
aroused itself and was soon flocking across the veldt to the ground
where the combined columns had already begun to form their camp. It
was not a large force; its full muster was below two thousand men; but
amid the soft and eerie shadows of the starry, moonlit night there
seemed no end to the lines of horses, mules, and bullocks, to the camp
fires, to the groups of men, to the number and variety of the waggons.
In a corner, as it were, were the guns, a composite battery of the
Royal Horse Artillery, eight pieces of the Canadian Artillery, and a
number of Maxims. It was these which we had heard booming to us the
first distant echoes of relief, and we were of course proud of them.
Then and there we examined them, felt them over, pondered upon them,
and then and there we thanked our God that we had in our own hands at
last some really serviceable artillery. But there were other sights to
be seen, early as was the hour, tired as were the troopers. There were
the men of the Kimberley Light Horse and their comrades of the
Imperial Light Horse to be inspected, to be patted upon the back, to
be admired, and to be congratulated. There was scarcely any one who
could not claim a friend among the mere handful of men who had marched
from Vryburg to our relief, but if by chance there were such a one he
quickly placed himself _en amitie_ with the first group of troopers
with whom he came in contact. Alas! such was our plight that we could
not give them anything to drink, but we most willingly had prepared
cauldrons of steaming soup and boiling coffee. A cup of coffee is not
much to offer, but the goodwill was taken with the spirit, and there
was no one who did not seem glad to receive even so small a thing. It
was not possible to stay long in the camp. The men were weary, and,
moreover, there was much to be done before, with their martial cloaks
around them, they were able to snatch a few hours' repose; and so the
town returned to its bed, drunk with enthusiasm, in an abortive effort
to calm its excited brain with sleep. But, good heavens! was such a
thing possible? It was now four, and although it was somewhat early,
in the morning we began to call upon one another, passing the hours
between dawn and sunrise in hilarious uproar. About seven the camp was
all a-bustle. There were rumours that the men were to move out and
attack the Boers, who were still in position upon the east side of the
town. Presently, as we moved about the streets down by the western
outposts, clouds of dust were tossing themselves in the air. The guns
were coming--our guns, if you please--and thereupon a pandemonium was
raised. Every one seemed to be screaming, and as the Royal Horse swept
through town we streamed after them, feebly endeavouring to keep pace
with them, so as to be able to witness the effects of their power. The
Market Square at this time presented a picture of military life which
has never been equalled by any of the scenes that have been enacted
there in its earlier days. Men in uniform were hurrying from point to
point, troops from the various squadrons were coming in,
squadron-leaders, majors and colonels were falling over one another.
These were the beginnings of the fight, and much as the relief had
fought its way into Mafeking so were they now going to secure definite
freedom for the townspeople by driving out the Boers. As the guns came
into the Square willing hands tore down and pushed aside the line of
carts and fencing of corrugated iron which for these seven months had
served duty as a traverse. Then the guns of the Horse Artillery swept
on, taking up positions upon the veldt in front of the town, in
readiness to begin the bombardment of the Boer position, while, in
simultaneous co-operation with this movement, the Canadian Artillery
were sent out with orders to shell Game Tree. However, the fight did
not last long. In a very short time the Game Tree fort was deserted,
the Boers from there hurriedly joining their main body. But the
presence of the guns had terrorised the Boers, and they fled
precipitately, leaving their camp, their guns, their stores behind
them. We shelled for an hour with the composite battery of the Royal
Horse, comprising four 12-1/2-pounders and two pom-poms. Then we
advanced in skirmishing order, extending our line rapidly until we had
outflanked their position. Then we charged, and the day was ours. The
enemy had vanished, and we were in possession of their camp, while so
undignified had their retreat been that they did not even wait to
remove their hospital. Upon General Snyman's house there was still
floating the Republican flag, while the Red Cross hung drowsily in the
air above the hospital. There were thirty wounded in the hospital, and
these, for the time being, were placed under a guard, but otherwise
left undisturbed; in this manner did the siege come to an abrupt
conclusion.




CHAPTER XXXVII

THE END


                                 MAFEKING, _May 26th, 1900_.

The imprimatur has now been given to the siege, and that chapter of
the war which bears reference to the investment of Mafeking must now
be considered as closed. The end of the drama is with us; the curtain
has dropped, and the people of the play are scattering--some are dead,
some have been wounded, lying nigh to death in the Victoria Hospital,
some have passed through this seven months' ordeal suffering neither
monetary loss nor physical hurt, but bearing with them, in their
minds, the almost indelible impress of an interesting but terrible
experience. And so the play is ended, and the great historical drama
in which we have enacted our part is soon to present fresh scenes, and
with the transformation, let us hope some stirring incident and a
picturesque scenario. To the end, of course, there is the story, but
it is simple of fact, it is plain of feature, it deals only with what
one may consider as the final obsequies of the siege, and in a brief
space we will consider them.

The siege is now officially returned as having been raised by General
Mahon's force at half-past ten upon the morning of May 17th. It has
been quiet since then. The garrison has mainly rested, taking itself
idly and participating in the few last deft touches with which Colonel
Baden-Powell has adorned the siege. These issues to the relief have
been sad, have been pleasing, but mournful or gay they have served
their purpose, fitting in most accurately with the long chain of
circumstances which has enclosed the siege. There was the time when
the garrison attended just beyond the precincts of the cemetery, where
the rank and file of the forces which have been beleaguered, stood to
attention as they paid their last honour to the dead, to all of those
who died so nobly, to those who had been the victims of disease, and
who, one and all, had paid the penalty of our success. It was a
mournful retrospect which was thus forced upon our notice as the names
of our dead were passed slowly in review; but as the mournful cadences
dropped from the lips of the preacher we braced ourselves to think
that such an end, as we had gathered to conclude, was but the
inevitable. As the Colonel stood before us--the man who reaped the
glory of the siege--we wondered whether beneath the calmness of his
demeanour there lurked any feeling of regret, any half-cherished
desire to express aloud to those who stood around him the potency of
his sorrows. To him it was but the simple ceremony, and one, moreover,
to be got through quickly, and indeed there was but little in the
service. Occasionally the breeze, which sighed so tremulously through
the hedge of trees that fringe the graveyard, wafted to us snatches of
prayer. And that was all, so far as we were concerned--the mere
fragments of a passing communion, ending as abruptly as it began,
seeming all to concentrate in that one moment when at command three
rounds of blank cartridge were fired across the graves. That was the
full weight of our honours to the dead, since afterwards--for it does
not do to dwell too much upon these things--the Colonel commanding
reviewed the remnants of his force, unbending insomuch that he
addressed to each unit, a few words of appreciation and of thanks. And
then where we had assembled, there did the Town Guard and other corps
of the garrison receive their dismissal, since now that the siege was
raised they might return to their businesses, to their homes, and to
their families to spend a cheering hour or two in an endeavour to
compute some estimate of the ruin which has fallen upon their
fortunes.

Now that the siege is over, it is not without interest to know to what
extent the garrison has suffered. We have had 1,498 shells from the
100-pounder Creusot, but in addition to this the enemy has fired into
Mafeking some 21,000 odd shells of a smaller character. These have
ranged from the 14-1/2-pounder high-velocity, armour-piercing,
delay-action shell, down to the high-velocity one-pound Maxim,
embracing in the series a variety of nine-pound shells--common,
segment, shrapnel, and incendiary--several hundred seven-pound shells,
and a multitude of five-pounders. This has been the weight of the
enemy's artillery fire which has played upon the town since October
12th, and which has supported commandos of Boers which were reckoned
as 8,000 men in October, and whose numbers are believed never to have
fallen below 3,000 rifles. Throughout the siege there have been some
eight guns around us, including the big Creusot piece, but at times
there have been eleven, and at rare intervals our spies reported that
the strength of the enemy's artillery was fourteen guns. And we have
stood this with a certain cheerfulness and with a pretty spirit of
determination: moreover, we have returned their fire, claiming to have
disabled three guns and killing and wounding several hundred men. Our
own casualties from shot and shell and sickness until the end of April
were 476. In October there were 77; November, 49; December, 101; in
January, 47; February, 68; March, 67; and April, 67. The admissions
into the base hospital during this period were 685, while 496 were
discharged. Among those who were admitted to the hospital there were
106 deaths. During a similar period and through identical causes, 180
natives were admitted to this hospital, 115 were discharged, 56 died,
but irrespective of these figures 398 deaths were registered from
amongst the natives. That their mortality was great, the monthly
returns from the native population will show. In October 12 natives
died; in November, 13; December, 46; January, 64; February, 44; March,
84; April, 135. These figures relate to those patients only who were
passed through the base hospital, but the monthly returns bear upon
the available strength of the garrison, and are in themselves an index
to the conditions of the siege. The town itself has suffered to a
great extent, although the amount of damage which the enemy's shell
fire has created is insignificant when compared to what would have
been the result had the main elements in its construction been bricks
and mortar. The tin shanties and the mud walls have given to Mafeking
a remarkable salvation, making it possible for the little town to
compare, when the weight of metal brought against it is considered,
even favourably with Ladysmith. Among the men forming the relief
column there are many who were with Sir George White, and from these
one gathers that the damage which Mafeking has sustained is infinitely
greater than the injuries which Ladysmith can show.

[Illustration: The Author's Dog "Mafeking," Wounded three Times
during the Siege.]

And so the siege is ended; but if this were taken in its more literal
sense it would imply that there has been an immediate change for the
better in our condition. But such is not the case. We have been
relieved of the presence of the Boers, a matter which did not greatly
trouble us, but there has been no alteration in our scale of diet--a
matter which does greatly trouble us; we are still issued four ounces
of rusty bread and a pound of scraggy meat, and there is still an
absence of table delicacies. We have no sugar, we have no milk, we
have neither eggs nor fowls. In point of fact we have nothing, and
indeed there has been no change. Yet we understood that Field-Marshal
Lord Roberts in his kindly and generous way had sent us a mob of prime
bullocks, and a convoy of something other than hospital luxuries. This
is told to us upon the authority of Major Weil, who controls the
commissariat, and if it be true, it is still most certainly the case
that the commissariat officer who has controlled the food supplies of
the garrison during the siege is still, relatively speaking, doling
out his sugar by the thimbleful, and ladling his flour with a spoon.
However, there is to come a time some day when Captain Ryan will be
far away, and the hours of meal times will be graced with such
luxuries as we have not seen for seven months. It is only recently
that the issue of horse meat was stopped, but there is a very general
belief that if the horses are not being slaughtered for human
consumption, their carcases still play an important part in the soup
with which the garrison is served. Of course, the days of starch
puddings and other table delicacies which were manufactured from
toilet necessaries are over, while we believe that an effort is to be
made to improve, but not increase, the bread allowance and to put
fresh meat on the public sales. But these are the boons of the future;
since we are relieved that is held to be sufficient for the present.
However, our thoughts do not dwell much upon our food, we rejoice so
much over our liberty that we can spare but little time for grumbling,
and indeed feel but little inclination. The town is bright again, and
people throng the streets as though a load had been lifted from off
the backs of every one. The shops are open, the post office has
resumed its work, and now once more accepts telegrams and letters.
During the siege there has been but little opportunity to send to the
outer world any message of a private character that contained more
than a few words. Letters were almost out of the question, and were
expensive luxuries even to war correspondents, who were compelled to
employ special runners at high prices to carry their despatches to the
nearest office. Lately, and when the investment of the enemy was not
so close, the intelligence department did manage to pass through the
lines small parcels of mail matter. The occasions have been
infrequent, and there were so many people who were anxious to write
that it became necessary to restrict the general public to a certain
limit of space. It does not seem that many letters got through, since
now that we have had time to overhaul the laagers of the enemy we have
found much correspondence in their waggons. We have also found a
number of telegrams, and these provide interesting reading and bear
importantly upon the situation. Moreover, it would seem that our
estimate of the Boer forces in the field is much exaggerated, for
President Kruger complains bitterly to Commandant-General Botha of the
paucity of numbers at the command of the State President. The
Commandant-General had but fifteen hundred men with him in Natal,
while General Snyman mentions the numbers of the various commandos
which he has summoned to his assistance, and by which he hopes to
secure an additional eight hundred men. But from the telegrams it
would seem that, for the most part, the Boers are timorous and tired
of fighting. The Field Cornet of Christiana asks what he is to do with
twenty men, and states that the Johannesburg Police are bolting.
"What, then, am I to do with my men?" At this moment the British
troops were within one hour's ride of Christiana. General Snyman has
many interesting comments upon the situation on the Molopo, and if
President Kruger believed one half of the intelligence that General
Snyman telegraphed to him, his knowledge of the situation must have
been obscure. From the despatches which passed between this worthy
General and the State President, mention is made quite frequently of
the desperate assaults upon our lines which General Snyman organised
and in some cases personally carried out, and which upon many
occasions resulted in the capture of one of our outlying positions. If
this be true such positions as were captured must indeed have been
outlying, in fact so far beyond the perimeter of our defences as to
altogether have escaped the notice of the garrison. But it does not
seem that President Kruger believed everything that General Snyman
communicated to him. In one message Oom Paul requests immediate
information upon the whereabouts of Colonel Plumer. There is a certain
pathos in the question of the aged President asking General Snyman,
"Where is Plumer? You must know," and one gathers that the old man saw
somewhat further into the future than the majority of his councillors,
since he gives it as his opinion that Mafeking will be relieved. But
prophets have never been respected in their own country. General
Snyman does not seem to have found favour in Pretoria; perhaps the
character of the man was too well known, since the State Secretary,
Mr. Reitz, is ordered by the State President to inquire as to whether
the failure of General Snyman's reinforcements to support Commandant
Eloff in his attack upon the town on May 12th was due to drunkenness
or to cowardice. "If it be drunkenness, let us say so," advises Mr.
Reitz, "since it would be better that the truth be known than that it
should be believed that General Snyman was a coward." Does this
sentence contain the secret history of the failure of Commandant
Eloff? If it be so one can afford to be generous and to sympathise
with President Kruger, even to feel a certain pity for Commandant
Eloff.

The Commandant, since he surrendered to us, has taken life very
philosophically. He is confined in the gaol, and with him are Captain
de Fremont and some half-dozen others. The majority of the prisoners
are lodged in the Dutch Church and in the Masonic Hall. Their time
hangs heavily upon their hands, but when the tedium of their
imprisonment becomes too great they indite long letters to their
friends, using much paper, in villainous denunciations of the English,
in complaining bitterly of their food, and in villifying Snyman.

Commandant Eloff smokes and reads and talks. Sometimes he becomes
abstracted, and again upon Sundays he is dejected. As I had the
pleasure of meeting him in the British South Africa Police Fort upon
May 12th, the occasion upon which he captured me, I called upon him in
the gaol. He was pacing the courtyard, but he stopped and smiled when
he saw me, and as I saluted him he held out his hand. "My prisoner,"
said he, amiably. "The fortunes of war," said I, and he waved a hand
in the air as he accepted a cigarette. His costume was free and
comfortable. He wore a brown jersey, a pair of riding breeches, and
slippers. The jersey fitted him, and he seemed to take some pains in
showing the physical development of his shoulders. His arms also were
strong, and with every move of his body his muscles quivered. He was
lithe, supple and active, and as he stood there with the whitewashed
walls of the gaol behind him, with his companions around him, and a
guard upon each of the four walls which enclosed the courtyard, an air
of romance clung to him and he might have been for the moment some
creation of Anthony Hope, casting in his mind for some entrancing but
desperate situation. He puffed my cigarette vigorously and began a
conversation. "You know," said he, "I don't like horseflesh." "I am
sorry," said I, "but you should have taken Mafeking before." "We shall
have it yet," said a man at the table, whereupon the Commandant
shrugged his shoulders and threw the end of his cigarette somewhat
petulantly from him. "If," said I. "Ah," said the Commandant, and
there was a pause in which we all laughed. He looked at me for a
moment as though he thought. "It is possible," said he, and he
punctuated his words with little nods. As he finished Captain de
Fremont joined us. "My God," said he; "you English." Eloff laughed.
"Do not let us make this Fashoda," said he. "Yes, it is possible," he
began again, "and I think we should have captured your town, but
Snyman----" he paused and spat. "I wish to God you would make Snyman a
prisoner," said he. The conversation had become interesting, and I
passed my cigarette case around again. It returned to me empty, but
Commandant Eloff had begun to smoke a pipe. "Are not you Dutchmen
tired of the war?" said I; "the end, after all, is inevitable."
Captain de Fremont spoke again. He twisted his cigarette between his
fingers and remarked with an air of incisive inanity, "Life and death
are inevitable." "And the English," said Commandant Eloff, whereupon I
laughed. The Commandant once more took up the thread of the
conversation. "We attacked you because it seemed to me that you had
relaxed your vigilance. How could we otherwise have pierced your
lines?" His view was right--at least I thought so. "We expected you,"
said I. The Commandant shook his head and looked at me somewhat
quizzingly. After all it was a palpable lie. "No," said he; "you
should at least allow us that amount of energy. You did not expect us,
and had Snyman pressed home the attack upon your eastern front and
supported me with the guns and reinforcements, I think that Mafeking
must have fallen." He paused for a moment, and said, slowly, "I am
certain that we should not be prisoners." "It was bad luck," said I,
"we would rather have you with us than against us, but this time you
will remain with us." He glanced at the four walls, upon each of which
there was sitting a guard. "I notice," said he, "that I am well
protected." The Frenchman shrugged his shoulders, as I suggested he
would rather be outside. "Give me a chance," said he, and he snapped
his fingers. "What, don't you know," said I, "what has occurred this
morning?" In a flash his mind reverted to the firing upon the previous
day. "Tell me, what was that firing last night?" "Mafeking has been
relieved," said I. The Commandant said nothing, and once more there
was a pause; but before we spoke again the sergeant of the guard
clanged upon the door with his musket. "Time is up," called he, and
the door opened. For a moment the Commandant could see through the
open space of the doorway, beyond and above the heads of the five
guards who were waiting outside, the glimpse of blue sky, a line of
trees, a stretch of veldt. "Is there anything I can do for you?" said
I, before I went. He waved his hand. "Nothing," said he, "except fresh
meat." I stayed for a moment and pointed outside. "Fresh meat and
fresh air are both outside." I thought I caught a sigh: it seemed to
lurk for a moment amid the harsh and grating noises of the bolts as
they were thrust forward in their sockets.

From the prison I strolled to my hotel. The day was fine, the cold of
the morning had given place to a warm and brilliant sunshine. It was
the Queen's birthday, and our little world seemed at peace. For the
moment we were forgetting the strife and tribulations of the past
seven months, and in our anxiety to do honour to her Majesty there was
much commotion in the town. Flags were flying and bunting was
fluttering from the verandahs of the houses. Here and there, passing
in a cloud of dust, were the troops marching to the parade. There was
to be a review and there was also a general muster of arms. In the
centre of the Market Square were the guns which we had captured from
the enemy. In a corner, but surrounded by an admiring crowd, were the
two pieces which we had improvised during the siege. There was
"B.-P.," there was also "The Wolf," and acting as guard to these guns,
were two men who, the day before had reached Mafeking from Pretoria,
having eluded the vigilance of their sentries and walked one hundred
and eighty miles in a gallant and successful attempt to gain liberty
and freedom. The men were almost as interesting as the guns. But time
was speedy and the war correspondents were anxious to attend the
parade. The review was a study in contrast, the contrast between a
birthday parade and that review at the cemetery where the souls of the
dead were passed in inspection and for whom prayers were offered. The
parade stretched from end to end of the ground immediately in front of
the British South Africa Police Fort, taking place upon the very spot
where the town had so valiantly contested the attack which Commandant
Eloff had organised. Behind the lines of the men were the white
buildings of the Protectorate Barracks, while from the flag-mast,
which stands aloft in the centre of the fort, there floated the Union
Jack. The scene was indeed a study in contrast. We were at peace now
with the elements of war within our midst. We were fighting then, a
grim and determined struggle waging all round us, and in a way this
birthday parade was the issue of that day's fighting, since had the
end been otherwise, it might have been Commandant Eloff who passed in
review order upon the birthday of our Queen Empress. We formed up,
detachments from the different corps and the artillery upon the right
of the line. It was only the siege artillery, and nothing very much at
that. The pom-poms and the guns of the Royal Horse Artillery were
guarding the front of the town, and could not be spared.

And so we waited, when of a sudden there came a cheer from the rear
and we realised that General Mahon was approaching. There was no band,
there were no horses, the entire parade were dismounted. The Colonel
inspected, the men dressed, and the Colonel returned to the saluting
base. He seemed conscious of the crowd, and stood as though he
realised that the parade which he was now holding meant to him so much
more than the mere abstract honour to the Queen. It signified the end
of his labours, epitomising his successes, touching with ironical
glory the honours which the near future must surely bring to him, and
as he stood he seemed quite nervous. It was one of the few occasions
upon which I have ever known him to be moved. The men who had come to
his relief were passing by him, and ever and anon one heard the
commands of the officers calling to their squadrons as they gained the
shadow of the saluting base, "Shoulder arms; eyes left." Then Colonel
Baden-Powell would raise his hand, taking and returning the salutes as
they were made. In the distance there was a haze of dust through which
a gaudy sunlight was flickering, and in the distance and, beside us,
there was the heavy music of the armed tread, as squadron after
squadron marched by. The air was filled with sound and sentiment, but
yet the crowd that stood behind was quiet and quite subdued. It was no
wonder that they were impressed, that they recognised in the rumble of
the distant feet and in the flowing masses of men the hour of their
deliverance. Their troubles were indeed past, their siege was over,
and the moment was approaching when those who had been in their midst
during so many months would be again upon the move, advancing this
time against the enemy upon Pretoria. But the hour was not one in
which to say farewell. It was an hour which lived for itself, an hour
that bore to each of us some knowledge of our liberty, and a secret
appreciation of the duties which our Empire asked of us. We were all
contented, happy in the knowledge that the siege was over, but imbued
with even a greater happiness since, upon this day, her Majesty was
sharing with us the joys of our good news. And presently the ceremony
concluded, and for the remainder of the day we attended sports and
organised a concert; while that night there was a dinner and a
pyrotechnic display in Market Square. We dined and drank the Queen,
and drinking this, streamed to the air where the rockets were already
rushing to the _ewigkeit_ with the roar of the racing tide. And then
beneath the steely beauty of the moonlight and the soft radiance of
countless stars we sang "God Save the Queen" and wandered home,
chanting as we went the strains of "Rule Britannia." Thus in a cloud
of loyal enthusiasm were brought about the closing scenes of the Siege
of Mafeking.

[Illustration: Plan of Mafeking.]

THE END


UNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON.






End of Project Gutenberg's The Siege of Mafeking (1900), by J. Angus Hamilton

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