'I am directed to assure you that there is no reason for apprehending that
Kimberley or any part of the colony either is, or in any contemplated
event will be, in danger of attack. Mr. Schreiner is of opinion that your
fears are groundless and your anticipations in the matter entirely without
foundation.' Such is the official reply to the remonstrance of the
inhabitants, when, with the shadow of war dark upon them, they appealed
for help. It is fortunate, however, that a progressive British town has
usually the capacity for doing things for itself without the intervention
of officials. Kimberley was particularly lucky in being the centre of the
wealthy and alert De Beers Company, which had laid in sufficient
ammunition and supplies to prevent the town from being helpless in the
presence of the enemy. But the cannon were popguns, firing a 7-pound shell
for a short range, and the garrison contained only seven hundred regulars,
while the remainder were mostly untrained miners and artisans. Among them,
however, there was a sprinkling of dangerous men from the northern wars,
and all were nerved by a knowledge that the ground which they defended was
essential to the Empire. Ladysmith was no more than any other strategic
position, but Kimberley was unique, the centre of the richest tract of
ground for its size in the whole world. Its loss would have been a heavy
blow to the British cause, and an enormous encouragement to the Boers.
On October 12th, several hours after the expiration of Kruger's
ultimatum, Cecil Rhodes threw himself into Kimberley. This remarkable man,
who stood for the future of South Africa as clearly as the Dopper Boer
stood for its past, had, both in features and in character, some traits
which may, without extravagance, be called Napoleonic. The restless
energy, the fertility of resource, the attention to detail, the wide sweep
of mind, the power of terse comment--all these recall the great emperor.
So did the simplicity of private life in the midst of excessive wealth.
And so finally did a want of scruple where an ambition was to be
furthered, shown, for example, in that enormous donation to the Irish
party by which he made a bid for their parliamentary support, and in the
story of the Jameson raid. A certain cynicism of mind and a grim humour
complete the parallel. But Rhodes was a Napoleon of peace. The
consolidation of South Africa under the freest and most progressive form
of government was the large object on which he had expended his energies
and his fortune but the development of the country in every conceivable
respect, from the building of a railway to the importation of a pedigree
bull, engaged his unremitting attention.
It was on October 15th that the fifty thousand inhabitants of Kimberley
first heard the voice of war. It rose and fell in a succession of horrible
screams and groans which travelled far over the veld, and the outlying
farmers marvelled at the dreadful clamour from the sirens and the hooters
of the great mines. Those who have endured all--the rifle, the cannon, and
the hunger--have said that those wild whoops from the sirens were what had
tried their nerve the most.
The Boers in scattered bands of horsemen were thick around the town,
and had blocked the railroad. They raided cattle upon the outskirts, but
made no attempt to rush the defence. The garrison, who, civilian and
military, approached four thousand in number, lay close in rifle pit and
redoubt waiting for an attack which never came. The perimeter to be
defended was about eight miles, but the heaps of tailings made admirable
fortifications, and the town had none of those inconvenient heights around
it which had been such bad neighbours to Ladysmith. Picturesque
surroundings are not favourable to defence.
On October 24th the garrison, finding that no attack was made,
determined upon a reconnaissance. The mounted force, upon which most of
the work and of the loss fell, consisted of the Diamond Fields Horse, a
small number of Cape Police, a company of Mounted Infantry, and a body
called the Kimberley Light Horse. With two hundred and seventy volunteers
from this force Major Scott-Turner, a redoubtable fighter, felt his way to
the north until he came in touch with the Boers. The latter, who were much
superior in numbers, manoeuvred to cut him off, but the arrival of two
companies of the North Lancashire Regiment turned the scale in our favour.
We lost three killed and twenty-one wounded in the skirmish. The Boer loss
is unknown, but their commander Botha was slain.
On November 4th Commandant Wessels formally summoned the town, and it
is asserted that he gave Colonel Kekewich leave to send out the women and
children. That officer has been blamed for not taking advantage of the
permission--or at the least for not communicating it to the civil
authorities. As a matter of fact the charge rests upon a misapprehension.
In Wessels' letter a distinction is made between Africander and English
women, the former being offered an asylum in his camp. This offer was made
known, and half a dozen persons took advantage of it. The suggestion,
however, in the case of the English carried with it no promise that they
would be conveyed to Orange River, and a compliance with it would have put
them as helpless hostages into the hands of the enemy. As to not
publishing the message it is not usual to publish such official documents,
but the offer was shown to Mr. Rhodes, who concurred in the impossibility
of accepting it.
It is difficult to allude to this subject without touching upon the
painful but notorious fact that there existed during the siege
considerable friction between the military authorities and a section of
the civilians, of whom Mr. Rhodes was chief. Among other characteristics
Rhodes bore any form of restraint very badly, and chafed mightily when
unable to do a thing in the exact way which he considered best. He may
have been a Napoleon of peace, but his warmest friends could never
describe him as a Napoleon of war, for his military forecasts have been
erroneous, and the management of the Jameson fiasco certainly inspired no
confidence in the judgment of any one concerned. That his intentions were
of the best, and that he had the good of the Empire at heart, may be
freely granted; but that these motives should lead him to cabal against,
and even to threaten, the military governor, or that he should attempt to
force Lord Roberts's hand in a military operation, was most deplorable.
Every credit may be given to him for all his aid to the military--he gave
with a good grace what the garrison would otherwise have had to
commandeer--but it is a fact that the town would have been more united,
and therefore stronger, without his presence. Colonel Kekewich and his
chief staff officer, Major O'Meara, were as much plagued by intrigue
within as by the Boers without.
On November 7th the bombardment of the town commenced from nine
9-pounder guns to which the artillery of the garrison could give no
adequate reply. The result, however, of a fortnight's fire, during which
seven hundred shells were discharged, was the loss of two non-combatants.
The question of food was recognised as being of more importance than the
enemy's fire. An early relief appeared probable, however, as the advance
of Methuen's force was already known. One pound of bread, two ounces of
sugar, and half a pound of meat were allowed per head. It was only on the
small children that the scarcity of milk told with tragic effect. At
Ladysmith, at Mafeking, and at Kimberley hundreds of these innocents were
sacrificed.
November 25th was a red-letter day with the garrison, who made a sortie
under the impression that Methuen was not far off, and that they were
assisting his operations. The attack was made upon one of the Boer
positions by a force consisting of a detachment of the Light Horse and of
the Cape Police, and their work was brilliantly successful. The actual
storming of the redoubt was carried out by some forty men, of whom but
four were killed. They brought back thirty-three prisoners as a proof of
their victory, but the Boer gun, as usual, escaped us. In this brilliant
affair Scott-Turner was wounded, which did not prevent him, only three
days later, from leading another sortie, which was as disastrous as the
first had been successful. Save under very exceptional circumstances it is
in modern warfare long odds always upon the defence, and the garrison
would probably have been better advised had they refrained from attacking
the fortifications of their enemy--a truth which Baden-Powell learned also
at Game Tree Hill. As it was, after a temporary success the British were
blown back by the fierce Mauser fire, and lost the indomitable
Scott-Turner, with twenty-one of his brave companions killed and
twenty-eight wounded, all belonging to the colonial corps. The Empire may
reflect with pride that the people in whose cause mainly they fought
showed themselves by their gallantry and their devotion worthy of any
sacrifice which has been made.
Again the siege settled down to a monotonous record of decreasing
rations and of expectation. On December 10 there came a sign of hope from
the outside world. Far on the southern horizon a little golden speck
shimmered against the blue African sky. It was Methuen's balloon gleaming
in the sunshine. Next morning the low grumble of distant cannon was the
sweetest of music to the listening citizens. But days passed without
further news, and it was not for more than a week that they learned of the
bloody repulse of Magersfontein, and that help was once more indefinitely
postponed. Heliographic communication had been opened with the relieving
army, and it is on record that the first message flashed through from the
south was a question about the number of a horse. With inconceivable
stupidity this has been cited as an example of military levity and
incapacity. Of course the object of the question was a test as to whether
they were really in communication with the garrison. It must be confessed
that the town seems to have contained some very querulous and unreasonable
people.
The New Year found the beleaguered city reduced to a quarter of a pound
of meat per head, while the health of the inhabitants began to break down
under their confinement. Their interest, however, was keenly aroused by
the attempt made in the De Beers workshops to build a gun which might
reach their opponents. This remarkable piece of ordnance, constructed by
an American named Labram by the help of tools manufactured for the purpose
and of books found in the town, took the shape eventually of a 28 lb.
rifled gun, which proved to be a most efficient piece of artillery. With
grim humour, Mr. Rhodes's compliments had been inscribed upon the
shells--a fair retort in view of the openly expressed threat of the enemy
that in case of his capture they would carry him in a cage to Pretoria.
The Boers, though held off for a time by this unexpected piece of
ordnance, prepared a terrible answer to it. On February 7th an enormous
gun, throwing a 96 lb. shell, opened from Kamfersdam, which is four miles
from the centre of the town. The shells, following the evil precedent of
the Germans in 1870, were fired not at the forts, but into the thickly
populated city. Day and night these huge missiles exploded, shattering the
houses and occasionally killing or maiming the occupants. Some thousands
of the women and children were conveyed down the mines, where, in the
electric-lighted tunnels, they lay in comfort and safety. One surprising
revenge the Boers had, for by an extraordinary chance one of the few men
killed by their gun was the ingenious Labram who had constructed the
28-pounder. By an even more singular chance, Leon, who was responsible for
bringing the big Boer gun, was struck immediately afterwards by a
long-range rifle-shot from the garrison.
The historian must be content to give a tame account of the siege of
Kimberley, for the thing itself was tame. Indeed 'siege' is a misnomer,
for it was rather an investment or a blockade. Such as it was, however,
the inhabitants became very restless under it, and though there were never
any prospects of surrender the utmost impatience began to be manifested at
the protracted delay on the part of the relief force. It was not till
later that it was understood how cunningly Kimberley had been used as a
bait to hold the enemy until final preparations had been made for his
destruction.
And at last the great day came. It is on record how dramatic was the
meeting between the mounted outposts of the defenders and the advance
guard of the relievers, whose advent seems to have been equally unexpected
by friend and foe. A skirmish was in progress on February 15th between a
party of the Kimberley Light Horse and of the Boers, when a new body of
horsemen, unrecognised by either side, appeared upon the plain and opened
fire upon the enemy. One of the strangers rode up to the patrol. 'What the
dickens does K.L. H. mean on your shoulder-strap?' he asked. 'It means
Kimberley Light Horse. Who are you?' 'I am one of the New Zealanders.'
Macaulay in his wildest dream of the future of the much-quoted New
Zealander never pictured him as heading a rescue force for the relief of a
British town in the heart of Africa.
The population had assembled to watch the mighty cloud of dust which
rolled along the south-eastern horizon. What was it which swept westwards
within its reddish heart? Hopeful and yet fearful they saw the huge bank
draw nearer and nearer. An assault from the whole of Cronje's army was the
thought which passed through many a mind. And then the dust-cloud thinned,
a mighty host of horsemen spurred out from it, and in the extended
far-flung ranks the glint of spearheads and the gleam of scabbards told of
the Hussars and Lancers, while denser banks on either flank marked the
position of the whirling guns. Wearied and spent with a hundred miles'
ride the dusty riders and the panting, dripping horses took fresh heart as
they saw the broad city before them, and swept with martial rattle and
jingle towards the cheering crowds. Amid shouts and tears French rode into
Kimberley while his troopers encamped outside the town.
