Chieveley: January 8, 1900.
BOOM. Thud, thud. Boom. Boom. Thud—thud thud—thud thud thud thud—boom. A
long succession of queer moaning vibrations broke the stillness of the
sleeping camp. I became suddenly awake. It was two o'clock on the morning of
January 6. The full significance of the sounds came with consciousness. We
had all heard them before—heavy cannonading at Ladysmith. They were at it
again. How much longer would the heroic garrison be persecuted?
I turned to rest once more. But the distant guns forbade sleep. The
reports grew momentarily more frequent, until at last they merged into one
general roar. This was new. Never before had we heard such bombarding.
Louder and louder swelled the cannonade, and presently the deep note of the
heavy artillery could scarcely be distinguished above the incessant
discharges of field pieces. So I lay and listened. What was happening
eighteen miles away over the hills? Another bayonet attack by the garrison?
Or perhaps a general sortie: or perhaps, but this seemed scarcely
conceivable, the Boers had hardened their hearts and were delivering the
long expected, long threatened assault.
An officer came to my tent with the daylight. Something big happening at
Ladysmith—hell of a cannonade—never heard anything like it—worse than
Colenso—what do you think of it? But I was without opinion; nor did I find
anyone anxious to pronounce. Meanwhile the firing was maintained, and we
breakfasted to its accompaniment. Until half-past ten there was not the
slightest diminution or intermission. As the day advanced, however, it
gradually died away, showing either that the fight was over, or, as it
afterwards turned out, that it had passed into the hands of riflemen.
We all spent an anxious morning speculating on the reason and result of
the engagement. About noon there arrived an unofficial message by
heliograph, which the young officer at the signal station confided to his
friends. It was brief. 'General attack all sides by Boers—everywhere
repulsed—but fight still going on.'
At one o'clock, just as were sitting down to luncheon, came an orderly at
full gallop with the order for the whole force in Chieveley to turn out at
once. Whereat the camp, till then dormant under the midday sun, sprang to
life like a disturbed ant-hill. Some said we were about to make a regular
attack on Colenso, while many of the covering army of Boers were busy at
Ladysmith. Others suggested a night assault—with the bayonet. The idea was
very pleasant to the hearts of the infantry. But I soon learned that no
serious operation was in contemplation, and that the force was merely to
make a demonstration before Colenso with the object of bringing some of the
Boers back from Ladysmith, and of so relieving the pressure on Sir George
White.
The demonstration was, however, a very imposing affair. First of all the
mounted forces threw out a long fringe of patrols all along the front.
Behind this the squadrons made a line of black bars. The mounted infantry,
Bethune's Horse, and the Natal Carabineers formed the left: the South
African Light Horse the centre, and the 13th Hussars and Thorneycroft's
Mounted Infantry twisted back to watch the right. Behind this curtain
marched the infantry, Hildyard's brigade on the right, Barton's on the left,
line after line of brown men ten yards apart, two hundred yards between the
lines, spreading in this open formation over a wide expanse of country, and
looking a mighty swarm. Behind these again dark blocks of artillery and
waggons moved slowly forward. Behind, and above all, the naval battery began
to throw its shells into the village.
The cavalry soon cleared the front, the squadrons wheeled about, the
patrols retreated. The South African Light Horse, with whom I now have the
honour to serve, were stationed in rear of Gun Hill, a rocky eminence so
called because a heavy battery was placed there in the last engagement. From
this feature an excellent view of the operation was afforded, and thence we
watched the whole development.
Sir Francis Clery, General Hildyard, and their respective Staffs had also
taken their position on Gun Hill, so that its crest was thickly crowded with
figures peering exhaustively through field glasses and telescopes. The
infantry, who were now moving steadily forward, were literally sprinkled all
over the country.
In the text-books compiled from the results of past experience the
military student reads that armies divide to march and concentrate to fight.
'Nous avons changé tout cela.' Here we concentrate to march and disperse to
fight. I asked General Hildyard what formation his brigade was in. He
replied, 'Formation for taking advantage of ant-heaps.' This is a valuable
addition to the infantry drill.
Meanwhile the demonstration was in progress, and not without effect. Only
the well-informed realised that it was a demonstration, and the privates, as
they walked phlegmatically on, did not know that they were not about to be
plunged into another deluge of fire.
'You watch it, Bill,' I heard one man remark, 'we'll have that ——
laughing hyena' (the Vickers-Maxim gun) 'let off at us in a minute.'
The Boers, too, seemed to be deceived, or, at any rate, doubtful, for we
could see them in twos and threes, and presently in fives and sixes,
galloping into their trenches, which were evidently deep enough to shelter
horse and man. It was most probable that larger bodies had already begun
their countermarch from Ladysmith. We were not wasting our time or our
trouble.
The infantry halted about three thousand yards from the enemy's position,
and the artillery, which numbered fourteen guns, trotted forward and came
into action. All these movements, which had been very deliberately made, had
taken a long time, and it was now nearly five o'clock. Dark thunder-clouds
and a drizzle of rain descended on the silent Boer position, and the range
of hills along which it stretched lay in deep shadow as if under the frown
of Heaven. Our batteries also were ranged in this gloomy zone, but with the
reserves and on the hill whence we were watching there was bright sunlight.
The bombardment and the storm broke over the Boer entrenchments
simultaneously. A swift succession of fierce red flashes stabbed out from
the patches of gunners, teams, and waggons, and with yellow gleams soft
white balls of smoke appeared among the houses of Colenso and above the
belts of scrub which extend on either side. The noise of explosions of gun
and projectile came back to us on the hill in regular order, and above them
rang the startling discharges of the 4.7-inch naval guns, whose shells in
bursting raised huge brown dust clouds from houses, trench, or hillside. At
the same time the thunder began to rumble, and vivid streaks of blue light
scarred the sombre hills. We watched the impressive spectacle in safety and
the sunlight.
Besides creating a diversion in favour of Ladysmith the object of our
demonstration was to make the enemy reveal his position and especially the
positions of his guns. In this latter respect, however, we were defeated.
Though they must have suffered some loss and more annoyance from the
bombardment, and though much of the infantry was well within the range of
their guns, the Boers declined to be drawn, and during two hours' shelling
they did not condescend to give a single shot in reply. It needs a patient
man to beat a Dutchman at waiting. So about seven o'clock we gave up trying.
It had been intended to leave the troops on the enemy's front until night
and withdraw them after dark, the idea being to make him anxious lest a
night attack should be designed. But as some of the battalions had turned
out without having their dinners, Sir Francis Clery decided not to keep them
under arms longer, and the whole force withdrew gracefully and solemnly to
camp.
Here we found news from Ladysmith. 'Enemy everywhere repulsed for the
present.' For the present! Hold on only a little longer, gallant garrison,
and if it be in the power of 25,000 British soldiers to help you, your
troubles and privations shall soon be ended—and what a dinner we will have
together then!
That night we tried to congratulate or encourage Ladysmith, and the
searchlight perseveringly flashed the Morse code on the clouds. But before
it had been working half an hour the Boer searchlight saw it and hurried to
interfere, flickering, blinking, and crossing to try to confuse the dots and
dashes, and appeared to us who watched this curious aerial battle—Briton and
Boer fighting each other in the sky with vibrations of ether—to confuse them
very effectually.
Next morning, however, the sun came out for uncertain periods, and
Ladysmith was able to tell her own story briefly and jerkily, but still a
very satisfactory account.
At two o'clock, according to Sir George White, the Boers in great
numbers, evidently reinforced from Colenso, surprised the pickets and began
a general attack on the outpost line round the town, particularly directing
their efforts on Cæsar's Camp and Waggon Hill. The fighting became very
close, and the enemy, who had after all hardened their hearts, pushed the
attack with extraordinary daring and vigour. Some of the trenches on Waggon
Hill were actually taken three times by the assailants. But every time
General Hamilton—the skilful Hamilton as he has been called—flung them out
again by counterattacks. At one place, indeed, they succeeded in holding on
all day, nor was it until the dusk of the evening, when the rain and
thunderstorm which we saw hanging over Colenso broke on Ladysmith, that
Colonel Park led forth the Devon Regiment—who, having had half their
officers killed or wounded by a shell some days before, were probably
spiteful—and drove the Dutchmen helter skelter at the point of the bayonet.
So that by night the Boers were repulsed at every point, with necessarily
great slaughter, greater at any rate than on our side. Their first
experience of assaulting! Encore!
Battles now-a-days are fought mainly with firearms, but no troops,
however brave, however well directed, can enjoy the full advantage of their
successes if they exclude the possibilities of cold steel and are not
prepared to maintain what they have won, if necessary with their fists. The
moral strength of an army which welcomes the closest personal encounter must
exceed that of an army which depends for its victories only on being able to
kill its foes at a distance. The bayonet is the most powerful weapon we
possess out here. Firearms kill many of the enemy, but it is the white
weapon that makes them run away. Rifles can inflict the loss, but victory
depends, for us at least, on the bayonets.
Of the losses we as yet know nothing, except that Lord Ava is seriously
wounded, a sad item for which the only consolation is that the Empire is
worth the blood of its noblest citizens. But for the general result we
rejoice. Ladysmith, too, is proud and happy. Only ten thousand of us, and
look what we do! A little reproachfully, perhaps; for it is dull work
fighting week after week without alcohol or green vegetables.
Well, it looks as if their trials were very nearly over. Sir Charles
Warren's Division marches to Frere to-day. All the hospitals have been
cleared ready for those who may need them. If all's well we shall have
removed the grounds of reproach by this day week. The long interval between
the acts has come to an end. The warning bell has rung. Take your seats,
ladies and gentlemen. The curtain is about to rise.
'High time, too,' say the impatient audience, and with this I must agree;
for, looking from my tent as I write, I can see the smoke-puff bulging on
Bulwana Hill as 'Long Tom' toils through his seventy-second day of
bombardment, and the white wisp seems to beckon the relieving army onward.
