While the Glencoe force had struck furiously at the army of Lucas Meyer,
and had afterwards by hard marching disengaged itself from the numerous
dangers which threatened it, its comrades at Ladysmith had loyally
co-operated in drawing off the attention of the enemy and keeping the line
of retreat open.
On October 20th--the same day as the Battle of Talana Hill--the line was cut
by the Boers at a point nearly midway between Dundee and Ladysmith. A small
body of horsemen were the forerunners of a considerable commando, composed
of Freestaters, Transvaalers, and Germans, who had advanced into Natal
through Botha's Pass under the command of General Koch. They had with them
the two Maxim-Nordenfelds which had been captured from the Jameson raiders,
and were now destined to return once more to British hands. Colonel Schiel,
the German artillerist, had charge of these guns.
On the evening of that day General French, with a strong reconnoitering
party, including the Natal Carabineers, the 5th Lancers, and the 21st
battery, had defined the enemy's position. Next morning (the 21st) he
returned, but either the enemy had been reinforced during the night or he
had underrated them the day before, for the force which he took with him was
too weak for any serious attack. He had one battery of the Natal artillery,
with their little seven-pounder popguns, five squadrons of the Imperial
Horse, and, in the train which slowly accompanied his advance, half a
battalion of the Manchester Regiment. Elated by the news of Talana Hill, and
anxious to emulate their brothers of Dundee, the little force moved out of
Ladysmith in the early morning.
Some at least of the men were animated by feelings such as seldom find a
place in the breast of the British soldier as he marches into battle. A
sense of duty, a belief in the justice of his cause, a love for his regiment
and for his country, these are the common incentives of every soldier. But
to the men of the Imperial Light Horse, recruited as they were from among
the British refugees of the Rand, there was added a burning sense of
injustice, and in many cases a bitter hatred against the men whose rule had
weighed so heavily upon them. In this singular corps the ranks were full of
wealthy men and men of education, who, driven from their peaceful vocations
in Johannesburg, were bent upon fighting their way back to them again. A
most unmerited slur had been cast upon their courage in connection with the
Jameson raid--a slur which they and other similar corps have washed out for
ever in their own blood and that of their enemy. Chisholm, a fiery little
Lancer, was in command, with Karri Davis and Wools-Sampson, the two
stalwarts who had preferred Pretoria Gaol to the favours of Kruger, as his
majors. The troopers were on fire at the news that a cartel had arrived in
Ladysmith the night before, purporting to come from the Johannesburg Boers
and Hollanders, asking what uniform the Light Horse wore, as they were
anxious to meet them in battle. These men were fellow townsmen and knew each
other well. They need not have troubled about the uniform, for before
evening the Light Horse were near enough for them to know their faces.
It was about eight o'clock on a bright summer morning that the small force
came in contact with a few scattered Boer outposts, who retired, firing,
before the advance of the Imperial Light Horse. As they fell back the green
and white tents of the invaders came into view upon the russet-coloured
hillside of Elandslaagte. Down at the red brick railway station the Boers
could be seen swarming out of the buildings in which they had spent the
night. The little Natal guns, firing with obsolete black powder, threw a few
shells into the station, one of which, it is said, penetrated a Boer
ambulance which could not be seen by the gunners. The accident was to be
regretted, but as no patients could have been in the ambulance the mischance
was not a serious one.
But the busy, smoky little seven-pounder guns were soon to meet their
master. Away up on the distant hillside, a long thousand yards beyond their
own furthest range, there was a sudden bright flash. No smoke, only the
throb of flame, and then the long sibilant scream of the shell, and the thud
as it buried itself in the ground under a limber. Such judgment of range
would have delighted the most martinet of inspectors at Okehampton. Bang
came another, and another, and another, right into the heart of the battery.
The six little guns lay back at their extremest angle, and all barked
together in impotent fury. Another shell pitched over them, and the officer
in command lowered his field-glass in despair as he saw his own shells
bursting far short upon the hillside. Jameson's defeat does not seem to have
been due to any defect in his artillery. French, peering and pondering, soon
came to the conclusion that there were too many Boers for him, and that if
those fifteen-pounders desired target practice they should find some other
mark than the Natal Field Artillery. A few curt orders, and his whole force
was making its way to the rear. There, out of range of those perilous guns,
they halted, the telegraph wire was cut, a telephone attachment was made,
and French whispered his troubles into the sympathetic ear of Ladysmith. He
did not whisper in vain. What he had to say was that where he had expected a
few hundred riflemen he found something like two thousand, and that where he
expected no guns he found two very excellent ones. The reply was that by
road and by rail as many men as could be spared were on their way to join
him.
Soon they began to drop in, those useful reinforcements--first the Devons,
quiet, business-like, reliable; then the Gordons, dashing, fiery, brilliant.
Two squadrons of the 5th Lancers, the 42nd R. F. A. , the 21st R. F. A. ,
another squadron of Lancers, a squadron of the 5th Dragoon Guards--French
began to feel that he was strong enough for the task in front of him. He had
a decided superiority of numbers and of guns. But the others were on their
favourite defensive on a hill. It would be a fair fight and a deadly one.
It was late after noon before the advance began. It was hard, among those
billowing hills, to make out the exact limits of the enemy's position. All
that was certain was that they were there, and that we meant having them out
if it were humanly possible. 'The enemy are there,' said Ian Hamilton to his
infantry; 'I hope you will shift them out before sunset--in fact I know you
will. ' The men cheered and laughed. In long open lines they advanced across
the veld, while the thunder of the two batteries behind them told the Boer
gunners that it was their turn now to know what it was to be outmatched.
The idea was to take the position by a front and a flank attack, but there
seems to have been some difficulty in determining which was the front and
which the flank. In fact, it was only by trying that one could know. General
White with his staff had arrived from Ladysmith, but refused to take the
command out of French's hands. It is typical of White's chivalrous spirit
that within ten days he refused to identify himself with a victory when it
was within his right to do so, and took the whole responsibility for a
disaster at which he was not present. Now he rode amid the shells and
watched the able dispositions of his lieutenant.
About half-past three the action had fairly begun. In front of the advancing
British there lay a rolling hill, topped by a further one. The lower hill
was not defended, and the infantry, breaking from column of companies into
open order, advanced over it. Beyond was a broad grassy valley which led up
to the main position, a long kopje flanked by a small sugar-loaf one Behind
the green slope which led to the ridge of death an ominous and terrible
cloud was driving up, casting its black shadow over the combatants. There
was the stillness which goes before some great convulsion of nature. The men
pressed on in silence, the soft thudding of their feet and the rattle of
their sidearms filling the air with a low and continuous murmur. An
additional solemnity was given to the attack by that huge black cloud which
hung before them.
The British guns had opened at a range of 4400 yards, and now against the
swarthy background there came the quick smokeless twinkle of the Boer reply.
It was an unequal fight, but gallantly sustained. A shot and another to find
the range; then a wreath of smoke from a bursting shell exactly where the
guns had been, followed by another and another. Overmatched, the two Boer
pieces relapsed into a sulky silence, broken now and again by short spurts
of frenzied activity. The British batteries turned their attention away from
them, and began to search the ridge with shrapnel and prepare the way for
the advancing infantry.
The scheme was that the Devonshires should hold the enemy in front while the
main attack from the left flank was carried out by the Gordons, the
Manchesters, and the Imperial Light Horse. The words 'front' and 'flank,'
however, cease to have any meaning with so mobile and elastic a force, and
the attack which was intended to come from the left became really a frontal
one, while the Devons found themselves upon the right flank of the Boers. At
the moment of the final advance the great black cloud had burst, and a
torrent of rain lashed into the faces of the men. Slipping and sliding upon
the wet grass, they advanced to the assault.
And now amid the hissing of the rain there came the fuller, more menacing
whine of the Mauser bullets, and the ridge rattled from end to end with the
rifle fire. Men fell fast, but their comrades pressed hotly on. There was a
long way to go, for the summit of the position was nearly 800 feet above the
level of the railway. The hillside, which had appeared to be one slope, was
really a succession of undulations, so that the advancing infantry
alternately dipped into shelter and emerged into a hail of bullets. The line
of advance was dotted with khaki-clad figures, some still in death, some
writhing in their agony. Amid the litter of bodies a major of the Gordons,
shot through the leg, sat philosophically smoking his pipe. Plucky little
Chisholm, Colonel of the Imperials, had fallen with two mortal wounds as he
dashed forward waving a coloured sash in the air. So long was the advance
and so trying the hill that the men sank panting upon the ground, and took
their breath before making another rush. As at Talana Hill, regimental
formation was largely gone, and men of the Manchesters, Gordons, and
Imperial Light Horse surged upwards in one long ragged fringe, Scotchman,
Englishman, and British Africander keeping pace in that race of death. And
now at last they began to see their enemy. Here and there among the boulders
in front of them there was the glimpse of a slouched hat, or a peep at a
flushed bearded face which drooped over a rifle barrel. There was a pause,
and then with a fresh impulse the wave of men gathered themselves together
and flung themselves forward. Dark figures sprang up from the rocks in
front. Some held up their rifles in token of surrender. Some ran with heads
sunk between their shoulders, jumping and ducking among the rocks. The
panting breathless climbers were on the edge of the plateau. There were the
two guns which had flashed so brightly, silenced now, with a litter of dead
gunners around them and one wounded officer standing by a trail. A small
body of the Boers still resisted. Their appearance horrified some of our
men. 'They were dressed in black frock coats and looked like a lot of rather
seedy business men,' said a spectator. 'It seemed like murder to kill them.
' Some surrendered, and some fought to the death where they stood. Their
leader Koch, an old gentleman with a white beard, lay amidst the rocks,
wounded in three places. He was treated with all courtesy and attention, but
died in Ladysmith Hospital some days afterwards.
In the meanwhile the Devonshire Regiment had waited until the attack had
developed and had then charged the hill upon the flank, while the artillery
moved up until it was within 2000 yards of the enemy's position. The Devons
met with a less fierce resistance than the others, and swept up to the
summit in time to head off some of the fugitives. The whole of our infantry
were now upon the ridge.
But even so these dour fighters were not beaten. They clung desperately to
the further edges of the plateau, firing from behind the rocks. There had
been a race for the nearest gun between an officer of the Manchesters and a
drummer sergeant of the Gordons. The officer won, and sprang in triumph on
to the piece. Men of all regiments swarmed round yelling and cheering, when
upon their astonished ears there sounded the 'Cease fire' and then the
'Retire. ' It was incredible, and yet it pealed out again, unmistakable in
its urgency. With the instinct of discipline the men were slowly falling
back. And then the truth of it came upon the minds of some of them. The
crafty enemy had learned our bugle calls. 'Retire be damned! shrieked a
little bugler, and blew the 'Advance' with all the breath that the hillside
had left him. The men, who had retired a hundred yards and uncovered the
guns, flooded back over the plateau, and in the Boer camp which lay beneath
it a white flag showed that the game was up. A squadron of the 5th Lancers
and of the 5th Dragoon Guards, under Colonel Gore of the latter regiment,
had prowled round the base of the hill, and in the fading light they charged
through and through the retreating Boers, killing several, and making from
twenty to thirty prisoners. It was one of the very few occasions in the war
where the mounted Briton overtook the mounted Boer.
'What price Majuba? ' was the cry raised by some of the infantry as they
dashed up to the enemy's position, and the action may indeed be said to have
been in some respects the converse of that famous fight. It is true that
there were many more British at Elandslaagte than Boers at Majuba, but then
the defending force was much more numerous also, and the British had no guns
there. It is true, also, that Majuba is very much more precipitous than
Elandslaagte, but then every practical soldier knows that it is easier to
defend a moderate glacis than an abrupt slope, which gives cover under its
boulders to the attacker while the defender has to crane his head over the
edge to look down. On the whole, this brilliant little action may be said to
have restored things to their true proportion, and to have shown that, brave
as the Boers undoubtedly are, there is no military feat within their power
which is not equally possible to the British soldier. Talana Hill and
Elandslaagte, fought on successive days, were each of them as gallant an
exploit as Majuba.
We had more to show for our victory than for the previous one at Dundee. Two
Maxim-Nordenfeld guns, whose efficiency had been painfully evident during
the action, were a welcome addition to our artillery. Two hundred and fifty
Boers were killed and wounded and about two hundred taken prisoners, the
loss falling most heavily upon the Johannesburgers, the Germans, and the
Hollanders. General Koch, Dr. Coster, Colonel Schiel, Pretorius, and other
well-known Transvaalers fell into our hands. Our own casualty list consisted
of 41 killed and 220 wounded, much the same number as at Talana Hill, the
heaviest losses falling upon the Gordon Highlanders and the Imperial Light
Horse.
In the hollow where the Boer tents had stood, amid the laagered wagons of
the vanquished, under a murky sky and a constant drizzle of rain, the
victors spent the night. Sleep was out of the question, for all night the
fatigue parties were searching the hillside and the wounded were being
carried in. Camp-fires were lit and soldiers and prisoners crowded round
them, and it is pleasant to recall that the warmest corner and the best of
their rude fare were always reserved for the downcast Dutchmen, while words
of rude praise and sympathy softened the pain of defeat. It is the memory of
such things which may in happier days be more potent than all the wisdom of
statesmen in welding our two races into one.
Having cleared the Boer force from the line of the railway, it is evident
that General White could not continue to garrison the point, as he was aware
that considerable forces were moving from the north, and his first duty was
the security of Ladysmith. Early next morning (October 22nd), therefore, his
weary but victorious troops returned to the town. Once there he learned, no
doubt, that General Yule had no intention of using the broken railway for
his retreat, but that he intended to come in a circuitous fashion by road.
White's problem was to hold tight to the town and at the same time to strike
hard at any northern force so as to prevent them from interfering with
Yule's retreat. It was in the furtherance of this scheme that he fought upon
October 24th the action of Rietfontein, an engagement slight in itself, but
important on account of the clear road which was secured for the weary
forces retiring from Dundee.
The army from the Free State, of which the commando vanquished at
Elandslaagte was the vanguard, had been slowly and steadily debouching from
the passes, and working south and eastwards to cut the line between Dundee
and Ladysmith. It was White's intention to prevent them from crossing the
Newcastle Road, and for this purpose he sallied out of Ladysmith on Tuesday
the 24th, having with him two regiments of cavalry, the 5th Lancers and the
19th Hussars, the 42nd and 53rd field batteries with the 10th mountain
battery, four infantry regiments, the Devons, Liverpools, Gloucesters, and
2nd King's Royal Rifles, the Imperial Light Horse, and the Natal
Volunteers--some four thousand men in all.
The enemy were found to be in possession of a line of hills within seven
miles of Ladysmith, the most conspicuous of which is called Tinta Inyoni. It
was no part of General White's plan to attempt to drive him from this
position--it is not wise generalship to fight always upon ground of the
enemy's choosing--but it was important to hold him where he was, and to
engage his attention during this last day of the march of the retreating
column. For this purpose, since no direct attack was intended, the guns were
of more importance than the infantry--and indeed the infantry should, one
might imagine, have been used solely as an escort for the artillery. A
desultory and inconclusive action ensued which continued from nine in the
morning until half-past one in the afternoon. A well-directed fire of the
Boer guns from the hills was dominated and controlled by our field
artillery, while the advance of their riflemen was restrained by shrapnel.
The enemy's guns were more easily marked down than at Elandslaagte, as they
used black powder. The ranges varied from three to four thousand yards. Our
losses in the whole action would have been insignificant had it not happened
that the Gloucester Regiment advanced somewhat incautiously into the open
and was caught in a cross fire of musketry which struck down Colonel Wilford
and fifty of his officers and men. Within four days Colonel Dick-Cunyngham,
of the Gordons, Colonel Chisholm, of the Light Horse, Colonel Gunning, of
the Rifles, and now Colonel Wilford, of the Gloucesters, had all fallen at
the head of their regiments. In the afternoon General White, having
accomplished his purpose and secured the safety of the Dundee column while
traversing the dangerous Biggarsberg passes, withdrew his force to
Ladysmith. We have no means of ascertaining the losses of the Boers, but
they were probably slight. On our side we lost 109 killed and wounded, of
which only 13 cases were fatal. Of this total 64 belonged to the Gloucesters
and 25 to the troops raised in Natal. Next day, as already narrated, the
whole British army was re-assembled once more at Ladysmith, and the campaign
was to enter upon a new phase.
At the end of this first vigorous week of hostilities it is interesting to
sum up the net result. The strategical advantage had lain with the Boers.
They had made our position at Dundee untenable and had driven us back to
Ladysmith. They had the country and the railway for the northern quarter of
the colony in their possession. They had killed and wounded between six and
seven hundred of our men, and they had captured some two hundred of our
cavalry, while we had been compelled at Dundee to leave considerable stores
and our wounded, including General Penn Symons, who actually died while a
prisoner in their hands. On the other hand, the tactical advantages lay with
us. We had twice driven them from their positions, and captured two of their
guns. We had taken two hundred prisoners. and had probably killed and
wounded as many as we had lost. On the whole, the honours of that week's
fighting in Natal may be said to have been fairly equal--which is more than
we could claim for many a weary week to come.
