_A MARCH UNDER MAHON OF MAFEKING TO RUSTENBURG AND WARMBATHS—IN PURSUIT OF DE WET_
To have served under two leaders of high reputation for ability in
handling Irregular troops was a stroke of good fortune that did not fall
to the lot of many Volunteer Corps in South Africa. Lumsden’s Horse had
every reason to be thankful that the lot was theirs, and they
appreciated it fully. In exchanging from the 8th Mounted Infantry
Regiment to another column, of which Colonel Bryan Mahon was Brigadier,
they did not forget the commander under whom they had served so long;
but affection for him was happily consistent with out-and-out admiration
for the officer to whose force they were transferred after leaving
Irene. Both were thorough soldiers, having strong sympathies with
Volunteers and a complete understanding of the peculiarities that
distinguish them from Regulars. In other words, both were born leaders
of men. Colonel Mahon, or General as he then was by local rank, had
proved himself to be a commander of great dash and resourcefulness in
his conduct of operations by which he won not only the affectionate
confidence of his own troops, but also the respect of enemies who still
speak with admiration of the young Cavalry officer who beat them at
their own game by rapid flank movements on the way to Mafeking, and
effected the relief of that beleaguered garrison in spite of all De la
Rey could do to prevent him. In ten days he marched a distance of 230
miles through country destitute of supplies, where no other forces had
disputed possession with the Boers since war began. He outwitted the
cleverest of De la Rey’s lieutenants at Kraaipan by a night march which
won his adversary’s admiration, and he took a great convoy of Cape carts
and heavier transport full of provisions into Mafeking without having
lost a single waggon. Describing that surprise at Kraaipan, when, after
waiting in expectation of an attack by which Mahon should fall into the
trap laid for him, the Boers suddenly realised that the British column
had disappeared, one of their scouts said, ‘We did not get much rest, as
somebody had to be on the look-out all night. Your laager was quite near
to us, but we did not see or hear anything move. In the morning,
however, the whole had vanished, and when it was too late to stop them
we heard they were trekking away north-west towards a desert where
nobody but Boers or natives would expect to find water. Your General
must have had somebody with him who knew that country well or he would
never have ventured there.’ The ‘somebody’ in this case may have been
Colonel Frank Rhodes, the bearer of a name which is one to conjure with
still among the native tribes of Bechuanaland. He was Mahon’s
Intelligence officer, and information gleaned by him made the night
march possible; but it was the young Brigadier who planned and carried
it into execution at a time when his enemies thought they had him surely
trapped. When a complete history of the campaign comes to be written,
that march of Mahon’s for the relief of Mafeking will rank high among
the most daring and successful operations. All this story was known
weeks before the General himself arrived at Pretoria with the Imperial
Light Horse, who had won fresh honours in that enterprise under a leader
whose praises they never tired of singing. No expectation of being
brigaded with such a famous corps under such a brigadier had occurred to
Lumsden’s Horse when they left Irene. Indeed, they seem to have regarded
themselves as an integral unit of the 8th Mounted Infantry up to the day
when Colonel Ross, receiving orders for a movement southwards, went off
with other corps of his command, leaving Lumsden’s Horse behind.
Meanwhile, however, they had been placed for a time at the disposal of
Colonel Hickman, under whom they took part in the brief operations
already described towards Crocodile River, which were merely a
reconnaissance for the more important enterprise to follow.
It will be remembered that Lord Roberts, about this time, had both hands
fully occupied in keeping Botha at arm’s length in the east and
stretching out his left with considerable force westward to ward off
attacks by De la Rey and others who were causing General Baden-Powell
much anxiety for the safety of Rustenburg, which he held with a very
small number of troops. It would never have done to let the newly
emancipated hero of Mafeking be subjected to another siege. Therefore,
when he reported that a strong force was again threatening Rustenburg
Lord Roberts determined to withdraw that garrison to Commando Nek, while
the small force holding Lichtenburg was to retire upon Zeerust.
Accordingly, General Ian Hamilton received orders to march to Rustenburg
and bring Baden-Powell’s force back with him. At the same time Sir
Frederick Carrington was directed to advance from Mafeking with his
mounted troops to the assistance of Colonel Hore, who, with 140 Bushmen,
80 men of the Rhodesian Regiment, and 80 Rhodesian Volunteers, was at
Eland’s River with a convoy of supplies for the Rustenburg garrison, and
held up there by an intercepting body of Boers. This brief summary of
the general situation is necessary to a clear understanding of the
exigencies that necessitated General Ian Hamilton’s movement eastward
along the Magaliesberg, and the reconnaissance immediately preceding it,
in all of which important operations Lumsden’s Horse were actively
engaged from start to finish. The force marched in three columns,
Colonel Hickman’s being on the left, General Ian Hamilton’s in the
centre, and Brigadier-General Mahon’s on the right, each being separated
from the other by a rough range of hills which in places became quite
mountainous.
All this range, sweeping round the hollow in which Pretoria lies, and
then stretching away westward by irregular curves past Rustenburg to
Eland’s River, is known as the Magaliesberg, and famed for the fertility
of valleys that broaden out at its feet from many rugged kloofs. In
peace-time it is the great tobacco-producing district of the Transvaal—a
veritable garden, where orange groves, flourishing in wild luxuriance,
sweeten the air with their fragrance, and brighten the landscape with
the richness of their golden fruit. In war-time its commanding crests
and narrow defiles formed a series of strongholds for the commandos that
rallied round General De la Rey and by their daring raids gained a
reputation as the best fighters of all Boers then in the field. Every
Kaffir path by which scouts could move unseen was familiar to them. They
knew every point from which wide views could be obtained in all
directions, and every nook in which men might hide secure from
observation, ready for a sudden attack if occasion should serve, yet
having more than one way open for escape from any danger that might
threaten them. General Baden-Powell with the relieved garrison from
Mafeking had marched through a mountainous country and crossed the
Magaliesberg to Rustenburg, meeting no opposition. The Boer forces
belonging to that district had then more serious affairs to occupy them
elsewhere. But after the fight at Diamond Hill, when General Botha
retired to the Eastern Transvaal, De la Rey came back to his old haunts
on the Magaliesberg, surprised a British post near Zilikat’s Nek, and
began a series of operations by which he threatened to cut off all
supplies from Rustenburg.
Colonel Lumsden continues his diary:
Two days after our return to Pretoria from the reconnaissance under
Colonel Hickman the 8th Mounted Infantry received orders to entrain at
4 A.M. for Wolve Hoek, the station next south of Vereeniging; but at
the station the order as far as we were concerned was countermanded,
and we were told to return and report to General Mahon. His
instructions were that we should remain in our present camp and fall
in as rearguard when his column marched off for Rustenburg on August
1. The morning of that day, therefore, found us in rear of the baggage
of his column, which was moving to Rustenburg, north of the
Magaliesberg Range, to the relief of Baden-Powell, while General
Hamilton proceeded up the valley south of the Magaliesberg. Mahon’s
brigade was unique in its composition, consisting almost entirely of
Volunteer Mounted Infantry—viz., Imperial Light Horse, Lumsden’s
Horse, New Zealand Mounted Infantry, Queensland Mounted Infantry, a
regiment of Yeomanry, two squadrons 18th Hussars (the squadrons that
were captured after the battle of Talana), and the M Battery R.H.A.—in
all about 1,500 strong.
Firing began two miles out of Pretoria, and pom-poms and guns played
merrily all day, clearing the range which divided the two columns. We
camped twelve miles out. The plan for next day subsequently transpired
to have been that General Hamilton should make a frontal attack and
drive the enemy off the high ground, where they had taken up a
position, near Zilikat’s Nek, while our brigade, making a wide
movement, to the right, was to cut off the retiring foe from the
Schwartz and Roode Kopjes, to which they were expected to retreat.
Apparently something went wrong with the arrangements, for Hamilton,
attacking before we got into position, lost some twenty men and the
Boers escaped.
The point at which General Hamilton made his attack was from the south
side of the Magaliesberg range near Uitval Nek, which the enemy held
strongly. As General Mahon’s brigade was moving along the north side of
those precipitous ridges through a country thick with scrub, no
communication could be kept up between the two forces, and Hamilton,
whose march was unimpeded by natural difficulties, had not allowed
sufficient time for his colleague to cover the treacherous ground
through which many tributaries of the Crocodile River run their devious
courses. On getting touch with the enemy, whose position he had located,
Ian Hamilton went for them at once, a portion of Cunningham’s brigade
making as if for a frontal attack, while two companies of the Berkshire
Regiment, led by Major Elmhirst Rhodes, gallantly escaladed the steep
cliff overlooking the pass from its eastern side. Hamilton’s losses in
this fight amounted to forty killed and wounded before the Boers could
be dislodged; but as soon as they found that their position was under
fire from above, where the Berkshires had gained a footing, the enemy
fled, abandoning their waggons and horses. Unfortunately, delayed by the
obstacles already mentioned, Mahon’s mounted troops did not come up in
time to take any part, otherwise but few of the enemy could have
escaped. A correspondent of the ‘Times of India,’ taking up the story a
day after this fight, when General Mahon’s force had got through the
denser bush country into a more smiling region only to find that the
enemy had disappeared, writes:
The valley we were passing through was well watered and cultivated,
and in some places fairly thickly wooded; much pleasanter country for
travelling through than the bare monotonous veldt of which we had seen
so much in the Free State. We passed many snug farmhouses, also
several flourishing orange groves. At one place there were acres of
orange trees simply laden with fruit, and as they were going to waste
we were allowed to help ourselves. The oranges were very fine and
beautifully ripe; one man from each sub-section was allowed to go and
gather them, and in a few minutes came back literally bulging with
them—haversacks, nosebags, pockets, &c., overflowing, the little
tangerines being especially appreciated. Some of the Australians were
so enchanted by this valley that they doubted whether there could be
another such in all the world. That night we were all aroused to
assist in putting out a veldt fire, which had approached uncomfortably
close to the camp; owing to a high wind and the fact that the grass
was particularly long and dry, it was much fiercer than is usually the
case. However, we set to work with blankets and beat it out where it
was too threatening, and then burnt a ring round the camp, effectually
stopping its progress. A Boer spy was caught in camp that night. He
had a pass on him showing that he had taken the oath of neutrality,
and he had expansive bullets in his bandolier. He was shot next
morning.
Progress was naturally very slow, owing to the difficult nature of the
country and the fact that the hills had to be very carefully scouted.
We were rearguard that day and saw no fighting ourselves, but the
scouts in front evidently soon put up the Boers, as we heard rifle
shots being exchanged constantly, and every now and then our guns
shelled the retreating enemy.
I may mention here that the Imperial Light Horse formed part of the
Mounted Infantry in General Mahon’s brigade. This was the first time
we had come across this famous corps, which had done such splendid
work during the war, and a very fine body of men we thought them.
Possessing a knowledge of the language and in many cases of the
country, they are most useful as scouts, and General Mahon fully
recognised that fact during the whole march, as he gave them plenty of
work to do. Besides this, they were old friends of his, having been
under his command with the Mafeking Relief Column, and they have been
with him ever since. Ian Hamilton, we heard afterwards, had met with a
pretty stubborn resistance from the Boers in his valley, where, as had
been anticipated, their main body was opposed to him, and he had
several casualties. We only advanced about twelve miles that day. Next
day the driving process recommenced, Lumsden’s Horse during the
greater part of the time occupying a very high kopje, from which we
were ordered to keep a bright look-out and to hold it if attacked. It
was a devil of a climb (the horses were kept below), but the view from
the top almost compensated us for our trouble. This part of the
country was certainly the best we had been through so far; beautifully
wooded in many places, and dotted all over with farms and orange
groves. The oranges were simply delicious, especially the tangerine
variety, and we took full advantage of the opportunity afforded us of
having our fill of them, each man eating as many as he could on the
spot, and carrying away a nosebagful with him.
Evidently the Generals had orders to adopt strong measures in cases of
farms harbouring Boers, or from which any sniping might be done, or in
which ammunition might be stored, as it was a daily occurrence for two
or three of them to be fired and rased to the ground. Looking into the
next valley from our high perch we saw a huge camp below which we at
first took to be a Boer laager, but we found out afterwards it was Ian
Hamilton’s force, which had advanced quicker than we had, and had
encamped for the day.
We had got to Commando Nek that night, and heard that the Boers from
the centre valley had already slipped through. This was unfortunate,
but could not be helped, as we could not push on farther than we did
without risking the sacrifice of many valuable lives. I think we were
informed that the enemy numbered about 600, and that their main body
had got away some time before, leaving behind a few snipers to keep us
in check. This is their usual method of proceeding, and a very sound
one it is.
One has to see the country oneself to realise what an easy thing it is
for a few men well placed to keep a large body back. We send out our
scouts, and immediately they are fired on. We shell the places from
which they have been shot at. After this has gone on for some little
time we advance again, and so on. Progress is very slow, and meantime
the bird has flown. As I say, one has to be out in the country to
understand properly what difficulties the attacking party has to
contend against. With the numberless examples before them of our men
blundering into traps and being slaughtered and having to surrender
through going at things baldheaded, as they say, our Generals have
learned caution. Then, on the other hand, the slow progress enables
the enemy to get away. ‘What can do?’ ‘Horns of dilemma!’ as our Babu
friends would say.
Then, again, the Boers know the country thoroughly, and when hard
pressed the Commandant simply tells his men to scatter and appoints
some meeting place further on. His convoy scatters likewise, and all,
travelling by three or four different routes, arrive at the rendezvous
in due course. We, on the other hand, have to follow the beaten path,
and are always being hung up for hours by our convoys getting stuck in
drifts, &c. It is not to be wondered at that the Boers, possessing
these advantages, so often elude us.
General Ian Hamilton’s column came through the Nek next day, and,
joining hands with General Mahon, proceeded towards Rustenburg, in
which direction the Boers had fled, and where Baden-Powell was said to
be surrounded and unable to get away. Horses and men fared very well
just then, the former getting plenty of oat-hay commandeered from the
hostile farms we passed, and green barley and oat-grass in the fields
at the midday halts; and the latter securing fowls, geese,
sucking-pigs, &c., which were very plentiful in Kaffir kraals and
farmhouses. During the two days it took us to reach Rustenburg we
expected to get in touch with the enemy at any moment, but they did
not come up to the scratch, and we entered the town unopposed on
August 5.
It appears that, hearing of Ian Hamilton’s approach, the Boers
abandoned the kopjes surrounding Rustenburg and relieved the pressure
on Baden-Powell, who, having heard in the meantime that General
Carrington, working with a small force in the country between
Rustenburg and Mafeking, was in danger of losing his convoy, had moved
out to his assistance.
The actual position was that Colonel Hore, marching with a convoy of
supplies from Zeerust to Rustenburg, and, finding his way barred by a
greater force than he could hope to cope with, and his retreat also cut
off, had entrenched himself at Eland’s River. There he waited for the
relieving force under General Carrington, which never came nearer than
within sound of the Boer guns, and unfortunately the Rustenburg column
also stopped short in its attempt to relieve Colonel Hore, who had to
fight it out for a week or so longer against enormous odds that might
have overwhelmed his force but for the magnificent determination
displayed by Australian Bushmen and Rhodesian Volunteers. The failure of
that attempt at relief is briefly described by Colonel Lumsden, whose
diary also summarises subsequent operations in pursuit of De Wet in the
following passages:
Next day we expected a well-earned rest, but Mahon’s brigade was lent
to strengthen General Baden-Powell’s force, which was to move at
daybreak next morning to assist Colonel Hore, who was known to be in
difficulties in the direction of or beyond Eland’s River (one of the
many streams bearing that name in the colony). This entailed a sharp
ride of fifteen miles, which brought us to Eland’s River and within
hearing of the cannonading, but no further. On the bank of the river
was a small group of officers, prominent among them being General
Baden-Powell, and by his side were Colonel Plumer and Major
Baden-Powell. We found the great man seated on a rock, surrounded by
his Staff, and sketching hard with both hands! Most of us had not seen
him before, so it can be imagined how glad we were to have the
opportunity of getting a good look at England’s popular hero at the
moment. We were also delighted at the idea of being under his command,
if only for a short time. We had a better view of him on the way back,
and he appeared to be very fit and none the worse for his Mafeking
experiences.
While waiting here to rest and water the horses we heard big guns
firing in the direction in which Carrington’s force was situated, and
expected momentarily to be ordered to advance; but after some time we
were told that Baden-Powell had tapped the telegraph wire and learned
from Carrington that he had repulsed the Boers and had got his convoy
away safely, and that he did not require our assistance. I am afraid,
however, that the wrong source must have been tapped, and that a false
message, intended to deceive, must then have come, not from
Carrington, but from the wily Boers. After two hours’ rest we returned
to Rustenburg for the night, having apparently accomplished nothing in
particular, except a march of thirty miles all told. Rustenburg was
then evacuated, and the whole of General Hamilton’s division
concentrated near Commando Nek, resting there one day. We then went to
join the De Wet hunt with Mahon’s brigade in front, and in spite of
only a little skirmishing advanced somewhat slowly. On the 15th we
came into touch with the eight Generals who were pursuing De Wet on an
organised plan from the south towards Oliphant’s Nek. We were supposed
to have been in time to cut off De Wet and prevent him going north to
Oliphant’s Nek, but were unfortunately too late, and all we could do
was to join the others and follow him up. The next evening we were in
touch with the rearguard and in sight of the Nek.
The following morning we escorted the big guns to within range of the
Nek, took our position on the hills on the right, and watched the
Infantry make the attack. It was a very pretty sight from our
position, but the resistance was slight, so, going through the Nek, we
reached Rustenburg for the third time and spent the night there, our
laager being well supplied by way of a change with turkeys and fowls
poached from local preserves. Away again next morning Pretoria-wards,
reaching Sterkstroom at 4 P.M. the next day. Hardly had we
off-saddled, with visions of a raid on a field of sweet potatoes in
view, before we received orders to again saddle up and march at 5 P.M.
after De Wet, who was reported just in front of us. From 5 till 11 our
weary horses struggled on through the darkness. We bivouacked for the
night within three miles of Commando Nek, hoping, as we had often
hoped before, to get De Wet next morning. Long ere day broke we were
up and away again, only to find that De Wet’s force had gone north
along the river towards Roode Kopjes, which we reached at daybreak
with still no signs of the enemy. On the right bank of the river and a
mile off were some low rocky kopjes covered with scrub, on the left a
series of high but broken hills. We, as advance guard, took up our
position on the latter as the Boer convoy was trekking away in full
view across the open from the shelter of the former, and just out of
range of the twelve pom-poms. The temptation was great to push on in
pursuit, but our General was luckily wiser and preferred to
reconnoitre across the river before implicating the guns and main body
in what turned out to be a most difficult drift. We from our position
looked on while the New Zealanders on the right crossed the drift and,
spreading out, advanced to the broken ground. We had just made up our
mind that all was clear, and that the General had been culpably slow,
when a frightful fusillade burst out on the unfortunate reconnoitrers
from a range of fifty yards. There was nothing for it but to race back
as hard as they could, leaving six casualties behind, two of which
resulted fatally. The _coup_ having failed, and horse and man being
incapable of more, we all returned to the previous night’s camp. At 6
A.M. on the 20th we reoccupied the same kopjes, forced the passage of
the river, and with little further resistance got into the open
country five miles beyond. We then marched through bushveldt to
Zoutpans, Warmbaths, and Waterval, back to Pretoria, with very little
to record in the ten days so occupied, the only interesting feature
being the peculiar country known as bushveldt, best described as a sea
of stunted thorn trees (familiarly known as toothpick trees), with an
undergrowth of coarse grass, no roads, but tracks of heavy sand which
delayed the Transport very much. Scouting was practically impossible,
as it was very difficult to get horses through the formidable thorny
scrub, while vision was limited to thirty yards.
The operations are described in fuller detail by correspondents of
Indian papers, whose interesting records of events in which they took
part need to be dovetailed together for the sake of a connected
narrative. It is necessary, however, to say here by way of introduction
that after accomplishing its mission in the relief of Rustenburg and the
withdrawal of that garrison General Ian Hamilton’s column became
involved by force of circumstances in a series of intricate operations
with other columns moving from east, west, and south with the object of
catching the wily De Wet between them. One correspondent thus describes
the march out of Rustenburg:
It having been decided to abandon the town, the night was spent in
destroying a lot of Boer ammunition and rifles of every description
which had been stored in the gaol. There was a constant succession of
reports as the cartridges exploded, and it sounded exactly as if a
smart general engagement was taking place. The next day, the 7th,
Rustenburg was completely evacuated, and the four brigades marched
back on their way towards the Crocodile River. Those of the
inhabitants who had claimed British protection also moved out with our
convoy, in addition to whom were forty Boer prisoners, including Piet
Kruger, Oom Paul’s son, under escort. As our progress was considerably
retarded by the large convoy it was despatched at night on the 8th to
a situation of safety. Each brigade was then operating separately,
though supporting each other, with Mahon’s as a flying column. The
next morning the Australians had a brush with some sixty Boer snipers,
but the main body made a dash for Uitval Nek, only to find that the
enemy had again anticipated our arrival and had bolted. Getting
through Commando Nek on August 9, we rejoined Ian Hamilton, who was
encamped on the other side. This was the largest camp we had been in
so far. There must have been quite 15,000 men there, including troops
from many parts of the world. All General Baden-Powell’s as well as
General Mahon’s column were Irregulars, so that with General Ian
Hamilton’s Regulars we were perhaps as representative a gathering as
has ever camped together. Englishmen, Highlanders, Welshmen, and
Irishmen, Australians (of all sorts), Canadians, New Zealanders,
Tasmanians, Imperial Yeomanry, ‘Lumsden’s’ from India, and Colonials
from all parts of South Africa, the Imperial Light Horse, the
Rhodesian Regiment, some of Montmorency’s Scouts, &c., were present.
The New Zealanders gave a sing-song that night, the visitors sitting
or standing round a huge log fire and the performers occupying the
centre. It was an excellent show, several very good men taking the
boards, or rather the veldt. The _finale_ was a march round by some of
the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders with pipes and drums playing.
Our entertainers, I must not forget to mention, supplied the crowd
liberally with rum, a much-appreciated drink among Tommies and
Volunteers alike. Mixed with sugar and water and taken hot it is hard
to beat, and has kept off many a fever, I am sure, in wet weather. I
may mention that rum was only rationed out very occasionally, except
in extremely bad weather, when we generally got it daily. Rum nights,
needless to say, were hailed with delight, and shouts of ‘Roll up for
your rum’ would be heard all round the camp.
[Illustration:
NIGHT IN CAMP
(_From a sketch by J.S. Cowen_)
]
Here the sequence of events may be appropriately interrupted for the
sake of some amusing incidents and anecdotes told by another
correspondent, who, in connection with this great gathering of troops in
our camp near Commando Nek, writes:
After considerable practice the amateur cooks could make a savoury
repast out of very little. If there was a garden about we grubbed up
some vegetables, with which even the trek-ox served out in Government
rations made an excellent stew. It was our fortune this night,
however, to be better provided for by a lucky chance. While engaged in
drawing the meagre rations and arguing with the Quartermaster-Sergeant
over details of ounces and pennyweights, that had come to be regarded
by us as very important matters, we suddenly espied a great scurry
going on about a mile away, crowds of men rushing after what we at
last made out to be a small deer. In and out it went among patrol
tents, horses, saddles, carts, and guns. Frantic efforts were made in
vain to catch it; men left whatever they were doing to join in the
chase, rolling over in their endeavours to be first. Everybody threw
something, and many dangerous missiles came hurtling through the air.
But the deer ran on and suddenly turned our way. We also missed it by
yards, and the shouting crowd swept by, losing sight of their quarry
presently, and not knowing whither it had gone. A man of ours happened
to be lying rolled up in his blanket asleep. The din roused him, and
just as he was beginning to move the buck rose for a leap over his
body. He caught it in the outspread blanket and kept it there. So the
game came to our mess after all by sheer luck. On the strength of it
we invited our very good friends and next-door neighbours, the Bushmen
(Queensland Mounted Infantry) to dine with us that night, and soon
after sunset they came round to our fire. Very good fellows they were,
and a very genial dinner we had. Our guests brought their own stew,
which was excellent, and their coffee too, with which to eke out our
supplies. One of our men produced some good cheroots afterwards, and
we sat on into the night, smoking, sipping coffee, and telling
stories, the hills all around being lighted up with lines of veldt
fires and the sky illuminated by a glorious full moon. Some of the
Bushmen’s stories against themselves were most amusing. They had as
good a name as anybody for horse-stealing and cattle-lifting. One of
them told us gravely that when he was walking one day through another
regiment’s lines a sergeant spotted him and gave the order ‘Stand to
your horses.’ He said he was so overcome by the ‘compliment,’ that he
could hardly acknowledge it. On another occasion, at a midday halt,
when the ‘cow-gun’ teams were brought back from watering, the
distracted officer in charge found one of the fattest and best oxen
was missing. He only just discovered it in time to save its life and
deprive the Bushmen of a feast. They told us many tricks for changing
a horse’s marks, brands, colour, and general appearance, so that no
man might know his own horse thus transformed, and I looked anxiously
towards my own chestnut quite expecting to find that he had either
been taken away to the camp of our neighbours or ‘faked’ practically
before my own eyes. Others joined our circle as the moon rose higher.
The whole camp seemed in excellent spirits. Sounds of revelry, wafted
on the still night air, reached us from many a camp-fire; snatches of
song, broken anon by outbursts of cheering; elsewhere uprose the
strains of the Highland pipes. Rumour is busy that we are to join in
the chase after De Wet, who is breaking away north. We wonder as we
roll into our blankets when will be our next day of rest.
And the rumours were true for once. Not many hours elapsed before
Mahon’s brigade, with the remainder of Hamilton’s force, was on the move
southward and westward through Commando Nek into Rustenburg again, and
then away north-east, still pursuing into the bushveldt the elusive
force which they took to be De Wet’s. As a matter of fact, De Wet had
already left this force. He, personally, did not quit the Magaliesberg
range, but, doubling back with a small band of trusty followers the day
after his passage of Oliphant’s Nek, he slipped through a neighbouring
poort, and so got at once in rear of his pursuers. They were thenceforth
on the heels of a fresh force, which De la Rey had detached to serve as
a will-o’-the-wisp. All these facts the Editor has learned from the lips
of General De la Rey himself recently. The next rest did not come for
several weary days, owing to circumstances that are described by other
correspondents in the following letters:
After a day’s rest (General Baden-Powell being left behind with a
small force to guard Commando Nek) the division advanced again in a
south-westerly direction to try to cut off De Wet, who was being
driven north by Kitchener, Methuen, Smith-Dorrien, Hart, and
Broadwood. We encountered a small body of fifty Boers, but a few
shells sent among these soon dislodged them from the kopje on which
they had taken up a position, and we did not see them again.
We got to a place called Hekpoort the next day, and here it was
decided to convert Mahon’s brigade into a flying column, which meant
that we were to travel without any Transport, each man being served
out with three days’ rations, which he carried with him. This column
was to work independently of the rest of the division and be ready to
start in pursuit of De Wet at a moment’s notice, should we get news of
him.
Leaving Ian Hamilton to follow on slowly by another route, Mahon’s
brigade marched at daybreak on the 12th, we acting as advance scouts.
The country hereabouts is very hilly, and affords excellent cover for
the wily sniper, so scouting was not all ‘beer and skittles.’ Visions
of grouse moors at home were naturally strong upon some of us that
day, and one’s thoughts ran irresistibly to parallels between the
driving of grouse and our attempts to round up De Wet. One was
constantly on the qui vive, expecting to be shot at any moment, as the
enemy were known to be about. Nothing happened, however, and the next
few days were spent in loafing along, doing about ten miles or so, in
momentary expectation of getting in touch with De Wet. But this
gentleman’s movements were as erratic as usual, and it was evidently
impossible to get any reliable information as to his exact
whereabouts. It was known that he was being driven towards Oliphant’s
Nek by Lord Methuen and the others mentioned above, and it would
appear that the proper course to have pursued was to have held this
pass, which was the only possible avenue of escape left to De Wet, and
wait for him there, instead of wandering about more or less aimlessly,
as we were doing. This could very easily have been done, one imagines,
with a small portion of the large force at General Hamilton’s
disposal, and why it was not tried is an unsolved mystery to a great
many of us up to the present. As far as an outsider can see, a very
serious blunder was committed here, and we apparently lost a chance of
bringing the war to a speedy conclusion. Had De Wet been caught, Botha
would probably have surrendered, and the other commandants would have
followed suit.
As it was, however, we moved along slowly, the monotony being broken
now and again by an exchange of shots between our scouts and scattered
parties of Boers on the adjacent hills. About midday on August 13
Lumsden’s Horse were detached from the main body and sent off to the
flank to reconnoitre, and on our way met a party of the Imperial Light
Horse who had been sent out to burn a farm situated in a hollow among
some hills from which the Boers had been sniping. The officer in
charge of the Imperial Light Horse party requested Captain Noblett,
under whose command we were, to keep us on the top of the hill to
prevent surprise while he and his men went and destroyed the farm.
This was done, but for some reason or another the Imperial Light Horse
officer changed his mind and did not burn the farm. While on the hill
we were told by some Kaffirs that the enemy (about eighty in number)
had left a few moments before; seeing our scouts coming over the hill,
they had fled precipitately. We went down to the farm after the
Imperial Light Horse party had gone on, and had hardly left it to
return to the main body again when we saw a small party of Boers on
the hill on our right, and these were doubtless the men referred to by
the Kaffirs we had spoken to. Instead of going by the road we took a
short cut across the veldt, as it was rather late and we wanted to get
back to the main body before nightfall. It turned out afterwards that
it was as well we did so, as on the way we heard firing on our right,
and on approaching to see what it was all about saw that the road led
through a deep hollow among some low hills in which the Boers had
taken up their position. Had we taken the road we should have walked
right into the trap which they had evidently laid for us, and should
have got slaughtered. The firing we heard was an exchange of
compliments between these Boers and some dozen Australians who had
also been sent out on reconnaissance duty, and who had posted
themselves on a hill opposite. Finding that they did not want any
assistance, we pushed on and joined the brigade again at about 5
o’clock, camping shortly afterwards. It is interesting to note that
the spot we camped at was the one that heard the first shots fired
during the Jameson Raid. The Boer _sangars_ still exist, and were
occupied that night by Lumsden’s ‘outlying picket.’ Having no
Transport, we had to depend on whatever we had in our saddle-bags, and
were consequently on rather short commons; and the horses, too, fared
badly, poor beasts, having to subsist mostly on what grass they could
pick up on the veldt and on such oat-hay and mealies as we could get
out of the farmhouses we passed. The latter were very few and far
between in that part of the country. Next day we continued our march
in the same direction, and both flanking parties engaged the enemy’s
snipers on several occasions. The Imperial Light Horse reported having
killed one Boer and wounded four others. On the 15th we acted as
advance guard, and had not proceeded far when we found ourselves wound
up with five brigades—viz., Lord Kitchener’s, Lord Methuen’s, General
Hart’s, Smith-Dorrien’s, and a column under Colonel Pilcher—that had
all been co-operating with us, bent on surrounding De Wet. But the
Boer leader of a lost cause proved as slippery as ever, and had again
escaped _viâ_ Oliphant’s Nek towards Rustenburg. The valley we had
passed through was mainly occupied by English and German farmers, who
complained bitterly at the constant visits of English and Boer troops,
as sympathy of any kind with either cause got them into hot water with
the other side, and the Boers are past masters as looters. The good
people of Rustenburg were in a like predicament, hence its evacuation.
We heard at a store here that De Wet had passed through the previous
day with our men in close pursuit. Later we were informed that he had
got through Oliphant’s Nek, which he had found unoccupied, and that
now the place was strongly held by the Boers.
In the evening I understand the various Generals got into
consultation, and it was decided that General Ian Hamilton should
advance with his division to attack the Nek and continue the chase
after De Wet, while Lord Kitchener and the others were, I believe, to
proceed to the west of Rustenburg, where the Boers under De la Rey
were again giving trouble.[13]
We joined General Ian Hamilton that evening, and next day the whole
force marched in the direction of Oliphant’s Nek and got within a few
miles of it by about 4 that afternoon. As it was so late, and the
place was said to be so strongly held, General Ian Hamilton decided on
deferring his attack till next day. Before we camped for the night the
advance scouts got into touch with the enemy, and we heard several
exchanges of shots going on in front. Shortly afterwards we were moved
up in support, and stayed till dark, after which we went back to camp,
which had been pitched about two miles off, leaving a strong mounted
picket behind. Lumsden’s Horse alone supplied forty men. Writing about
picket duty reminds me that it was particularly trying during this
march. Since leaving Pretoria we had been supplying forty or fifty men
nearly every night—_i.e._, about 50 per cent. of our number. This duty
we hated more than any other. One did not mind hard work all day if
one’s nights in camp were undisturbed; but to come in at dark and
hardly have time to off-saddle before being ordered to fall in for
outlying picket was simply ghastly. On some occasions we went out
without any food or drink, and if, as often happens, the post was a
long way off and difficult to find in the dark, one’s fellow messmen
were unable to take anything out. Whenever possible, however,
bully-beef or Army rations and biscuits were served out to the picket
before it marched off, and when this was done things were not so bad.
The Boer camp fires were seen quite distinctly on the hills close to
where our pickets were, and from the number of these we judged that
the report that the Nek was strongly held was not an exaggerated one.
It is naturally a grand place to defend, and could be made almost
impregnable, I should think, with its high commanding kopjes on either
side. Besides which, it was said to have been strongly fortified by
Colonel Kekewich some time before. We naturally thought, therefore,
that we should have a hard nut to crack next day. Just before dawn,
however, a spy who had been sent into the Boer camp returned with the
news that they had been on the move all night getting away their
baggage, &c., and that they would not offer any very great resistance
to our passage—probably just enough to allow their convoy ample time
to get away. This man, by the way, while returning from the Boer camp
ran into our outlying picket, and, not being prompt in replying to the
sentry’s challenge ‘Who comes there?’ he very nearly got shot.
The report that most of the Boers had stolen away turned out to be
correct, as after a few hours’ shelling to clear the way for our
Infantry the latter advanced practically unopposed, the casualties on
either side being very few, and we got through the Nek about 11 A.M.
We saw some very pretty artillery practice, two 5-inch guns coming
into action at a range of three or four miles quite close to where we
stood.
As De Wet was said to have gone off in the direction of Rustenburg we
pressed forward, got outside that town in the afternoon, and camped
there for the night once more.
Evidently fresh news of the ‘wily’ one was received, as next day
(August 18) we started back the way we had come and halted in the
afternoon, as if for a long rest, at Sterkstroom, some miles west of
Commando Nek. We had hardly been in camp an hour when the order came
for Mahon’s brigade to saddle up and march at once, the object being
to intercept De Wet, who was reported to have taken up a position near
the Crocodile River. We did a long weary march, the weariness being
accentuated by the fact that we were not allowed to smoke or speak
above a whisper. We halted about 10.30 and camped at a place called
Bokfontein, about five miles west of the Crocodile. I presume it was
not thought advisable to advance any closer for fear of blundering
into the enemy unawares, and thus giving them the chance of getting
away under cover of darkness. With all these precautions and
preparations we naturally thought we were really there or thereabouts
this time. Once again, however, we were baffled of our prey, which we
heard next evening had got away in a north-easterly direction.
We arrived at Commando Nek at 6 A.M. on the 19th, and it was then
decided that Mahon’s brigade should reconnoitre the kopjes north of
and directly opposite to the Nek, and this we proceeded to do. General
Ian Hamilton had not come up then. On approaching the position we
found that there were two ranges of kopjes lying east and west (each
range being divided again into several little groups of hills), and
through these there was a passage leading to the open country beyond.
A squadron of the Imperial Light Horse was sent out to scout, and they
presently put up some Boers, but a few shells sent among these soon
drove them back again. Lumsden’s Horse were then ordered to gallop
forward and occupy the first group of kopjes on the western ranges. We
had hardly got into position when we saw a large convoy of Boer
waggons making its way, as fast as the oxen could be goaded to travel,
from the kopje on the east to the plains beyond, and towards another
range of kopjes further north. We immediately sent back word to
General Mahon, and he at once ordered the guns to be brought up, and a
few shells were sent after the convoy. Unfortunately, however, we only
had a battery of 12-pounders with us, and by the time they got into
position the convoy had a long start and our shells fell short.
General Mahon reluctantly decided that it would be unsafe to follow
the convoy with the small force at his disposal, as the Boers had no
doubt left a sufficient number of men behind on the eastern and
western ranges of kopjes to cover its retreat. These kopjes completely
commanded the plains beyond, and had we gone on we should have been
absolutely at their mercy and should have been very roughly handled
indeed.
Besides which, I fancy General Mahon’s orders were merely to
reconnoitre the position and not to run his neck into any kind of
noose. Abandoning all idea of pursuit, therefore, General Mahon then
proceeded to examine the eastern range of kopjes from which the convoy
had started, and where he suspected there might be a Boer laager. To
effect this purpose he sent out the New Zealanders as scouts. They
were allowed to approach within fifty yards without molestation, when
all of a sudden the klik-klok of Mausers was heard all along the
ridge, and an officer and three men were seen to fall. The former died
next day, poor fellow. After this the scouts returned. From our
position on the kopjes on the left we saw the whole thing distinctly.
A party of New Zealanders, before this happened, were examining a
farmhouse, and while they were inside one of their horses got away.
The farmhouse was quite close to the hill from which the Boers were
firing, and when the retirement took place the unfortunate man who had
lost his horse would have been left had not one of his comrades very
pluckily ridden forward and caught the animal, which was grazing close
by, and thus enabled its owner to get away. The plucky scout, however,
stayed to take up, behind his saddle, another man, whose horse had
been killed, and they also managed to get clear off, notwithstanding
that they were being shot at all the while. Captain Taylor, our
Adjutant, who was looking through his telescope at the time, said it
was the neatest and coolest thing he had ever seen. It was now getting
on in the afternoon, and, the purpose for which, as I presume, we were
sent out being complete, the order to retire was given, Lumsden’s
Horse being instructed to act as rearguard, and occupy the kopjes
where they were posted, till the guns and the rest of the troops had
got away. This we did, and we heard afterwards from the men in charge
of the ambulance which was left behind to bring in the wounded that we
had hardly left the kopjes we had been on all day when the Boers
occupied them. We got back to our camp at Commando Nek late in the
afternoon, and stayed there for the night. This was the most
irritating action we have yet been in, for the Boer convoy was at our
mercy, but we were not numerically strong enough to attack it. It thus
slipped away under our very noses. Baden-Powell was at Commando Nek
and Ian Hamilton a day’s march in rear.
It was arranged that next day General Mahon’s brigade should make an
attack on the position reconnoitred that morning, supported by Ian
Hamilton, who was to join us again with the rest of his division.
Lumsden’s Horse were to take up the same position as they had done the
day before. The brigade marched out at 6.30 A.M. and were soon on the
scene of the previous action. As instructed, we posted ourselves on
the kopjes occupied by us the day before, and in the meantime scouts
were sent out to discover whether or not the Boers were still about.
The crack of Mausers soon decided this question, and the kopjes in
front and on both flanks were then shelled for several hours. We were
then ordered to leave our rocky perches and advance in skirmishing
order to the attack. We soon arrived on the kopjes previously held by
the Boers, but found no trace of these gentry, who had evidently
played their usual game of leaving a few snipers behind to hinder our
advance while their main body got away in safety. This effected, the
snipers themselves vanished into space. There were no casualties on
our side that morning, and I do not fancy our shells did much damage,
as I did not hear of any dead or wounded Boers being found. It was
about here that De Wet was supposed to have broken up his commando,
leaving some 1,500 dismounted men to take refuge in the bushveldt,
while he went off south with only 200 men. Meantime General Ian
Hamilton came up with his troops, and the whole of us then advanced
north, the direction taken by the fleeing Boers into the bushveldt,
expecting a fight at any time, which did not come off. The going was
extremely difficult, the soil being impalpable sand with thorny bushes
growing so close together that at twenty yards objects could not be
discerned. Water was only encountered at one spot, a farm in a valley.
The occupants of the farm were a Boer woman and two little children;
she weepingly informed us that the Boers had commandeered her husband
the day before, and, as he had objected, they had taken him away in
handcuffs. We made Zoutpans by sundown, completely jaded and worn out.
At Zoutpans are the salt-mines, now at a standstill, as the company
owning them have gone into liquidation, and the only house is that in
which the manager, an Englishman, lives. A pool highly impregnated
with salt was the only water near at hand, and on this men and horses
had to do. The salt itself from these mines is only fit for cattle, as
soda predominates in it. We had marched more or less in a circle. Next
day we heard that De Wet had doubled back with 200 picked men to the
Free State, leaving the rest of his force to join Grobler, who was
then operating north of Pretoria. We were told that General Paget was
coming up with a small force along the line of rail, and Baden-Powell,
who had left Commando Nek, would advance parallel with and ten miles
west of Paget, and that Ian Hamilton’s Division, then about twelve
miles further west, was to co-operate with these two columns and keep
Grobler from breaking back if possible.
We were now in what is called the bushveldt—_i.e._, country covered
with low scrubby bushes. These bushes form excellent screens for the
enemy, and scouting, therefore, is ticklish work. ‘You dunno where you
are,’ as they say. Water was a scarce article, too—in fact, it was
about the driest country we had been in so far. Passing a place called
Stinkwater, we reached Swartzkop late in the evening, and camped there
for the night near a large settlement of the Barotse tribe. The
Germans have a mission in these parts; their church is only a large
mud hut, but the missionary in charge has a following of no fewer than
2,000. We were told that night that General Ian Hamilton was going
with his Staff to Haaman’s Kraal, a railway station about fifteen
miles east, coming back the same evening, and that Lumsden’s Horse
were to act as his escort. This promised a nice break in the monotony
of the everlasting march, march, march we had been having lately, so
those of us who had fit horses were much elated, the unfortunate ones,
who had not, being correspondingly downcast. As arranged, we started
for Haaman’s Kraal at daybreak next day, and our advance scouts had
got quite six miles out when we were ordered to turn back and return
to camp. Trooper Philip Stanley writes of an incident that occurred at
a farm near the German mission, and which may help to explain how some
of the wonderful yarns we so often heard about De Wet’s capture
commenced.
[Illustration:
_Photo: Bourne & Shepherd_
PHILIP STANLEY
]
We were catching the fowls in the houses round the church, and one
particular black-and-white cock evaded all our endeavours. So somebody
called him De Wet, and presently yelled out, as the poor cock was hurt
by a stick or stone, ‘_De Wet’s captured at last_.’ Curiously enough,
just at that moment a mounted man, a Hussar I think, was riding close
past us on the road and heard the shout ‘De Wet’s captured at last,’
and I think must have spread the report, as when we got into camp,
four miles on, about an hour and a half afterwards, we were at once
told De Wet was captured at last, and I think they might that evening
have added, ‘and eaten.’ Fresh instructions had evidently come from
headquarters, and General Ian Hamilton was not going to Haaman’s Kraal
after all. When we got back to our place we found the division moving
off in a northerly direction, and so, after a few minutes’ halt to
water our horses, we had to follow on as quickly as possible to regain
our place in the column—_i.e._, on the flank of the guns. It was a
very hot and dirty march, and towards the afternoon our position was
changed to rearguard, which meant that we had to wait behind till all
the stragglers and the whole of the Transport got into camp. In
consequence we did not get in till 8.30 that night, and even then our
troubles were not ended, as several of us were immediately ordered out
on outlying picket. The different corps take it in turn to do
rearguard as a rule, and, needless to say, it is not a popular duty at
all. Generally the rearguard gets off supplying outlying pickets, but
when short-handed, or when there are more posts than usual, they too
have to bear their share of the burden.
The next day’s march (August 24) brought us to Warmbaths. As its name
indicates, there are natural springs here. Some of the enterprising
ones of the earth, taking advantage of this, have erected long rows of
bathing houses supplied with every convenience, hot and cold water
taps, &c., &c., and before the war broke out I understand they were
making a good thing out of it. It was a great resort for invalids, I
was told, and, being on the line of rail from Pretoria, it was quite
the thing to spend a few days out there and take the waters. When we
came in we found the baths entirely deserted, no one being left in
charge of them.
There were any number of troops in the place when we arrived, Paget’s
and Baden-Powell’s lot having come in the day before. They had had
several brushes with the enemy under Grobler, and had driven them on
to the hills beyond the town. As can easily be imagined, there was a
regular rush on the baths, each room being in most cases engaged six
deep. Many of us, in consequence, had to defer tubbing till next day,
which we spent resting in camp. I was one of these. Oh! I shall never
forget the luxury of that bath. I think I spent a whole hour lying
full length in a tub of hot water, with just my chin above the
surface. When one only gets the opportunity of bathing on rare
occasions it is perhaps not surprising that one should wax
enthusiastic over one such as this was. That we hadn’t been used to
luxuries was fully demonstrated by the number of men who were
suffering with colds the next day. We started again with Ian Hamilton
on the evening of the 26th, leaving Generals Paget and Baden-Powell
behind to settle with Grobler and his merry band, whom, as I have
written above, they had already harried considerably. Our march was in
the direction of Pretoria, and everybody in the column then heard for
the first time that we were merely going there to refit and get
remounts, after which we should be sent out in the direction of
Middelburg. Alas! for our hopes that this was to have been our last
trek.
Twenty-five miles of bushveldt had to be traversed to reach the next
camp, at Pienaar’s River—an eccentric stream, the meandering of which
caused us considerable inconvenience in crossing and re-crossing it a
dozen times during the march. We reached Pienaar’s River station that
night and camped there. Starting again next day, we got to Haaman’s
Kraal about midday, and halted there for two or three hours. We heard
here that our mails (we hadn’t had any since leaving Pretoria at the
beginning of the month, so expected a good pile) had been sent on from
Pretoria to meet us, and they were a mile or two ahead. About a dozen
of us were accordingly sent to get them. There were eight or ten bags
for us, and we immediately ‘buckled to’ the pleasant task of sorting.
It took us a good two hours’ hard work, and this will give some idea
of the number of letters and parcels received.
Continuing our march, we reached Waterval station late in the
afternoon and halted for the night. This, it will be remembered, was
where the Boers kept our men whom they had taken prisoners, after they
removed them from the racecourse at Pretoria. They were confined in
long tin sheds placed in the middle of a large barbed wire enclosure,
and this was lighted up by electric light all night, thus reducing the
chances of escape to a minimum.
We marched at 4.30 next morning and at 10 o’clock arrived in Pretoria,
where we camped on the racecourse. Shortly afterwards we were joined
by Captain Clifford and the men (about twenty) who had been left
behind at Irene owing to their having no horses, and also by several
others who had been in hospital and were now convalescent. Among the
latter was Regimental Sergeant-Major ‘Lump’ Marsham, who was looking
remarkably well after all he had gone through. He had had some
remarkable experiences; shot in two places (through the chest and
right thigh), besides having a bullet through his haversack in our
first fight at Houtnek, then being taken prisoner at Rhenoster River
station, where he was on his way up to rejoin the regiment after
leaving hospital, then having the pleasure of being present at the
surrender of Prinsloo and three or four thousand of his men, and
forming one of the guard which escorted them afterwards. We were all
greatly pleased to have him back among us again.
We had had a trying time of it, and Veterinary-Captain Stevenson cast
our horses wholesale, nearly two-thirds being cast in all. The men
seem made of sterner stuff, and campaigning has only tended to make
the majority fitter than ever, and only a very few are ill—a matter of
the survival of the fittest. We have been working in co-operation with
Baden-Powell’s brigade a good deal, and our desire to hear about him
and to see him has been surfeited. The only hardship experienced on
the march was want of good tobacco. Though the Magaliesberg tobacco is
considered the best of Transvaal tobacco, and we could have obtained
plenty of it, yet few among us have acquired a taste for it. It is
positively vile, and an Indian cigar when smoked in a pipe is probably
the nearest approach to it. Some more changes have taken place among
us. Trooper Arathoon (Oudh Light Horse) has been granted a commission
in the 3rd Dragoon Guards, Corporal Montagu-Bates one in the East
Surrey Regiment, Trooper Partridge one in the Northumberland
Fusiliers, and Trooper Douglas-Jones one in the Army Service Corps.
Corporal Chartres has for some months been doing duty as
Surgeon-Captain at one of our many hospitals. Trooper Follett died of
enteric at Johannesburg, while quite twenty or twenty-five men have
been invalided home. There is little doubt that a famine in the
Transvaal will result from this war; foodstuffs are at a premium,
while the expected crops have been all destroyed. In the large towns
like Pretoria, Johannesburg, &c., bread is only baked from flour
supplied by Government, and even then the prevailing price is a
shilling for a pound loaf. Every-day necessities, such as tea, coffee,
and sugar, are now hard to procure, while beet has risen to two
shillings a pound; mealies (Indian-corn) for horses cannot be bought
under threepence the pound. The beginning of a famine would thus be
the precursor of the end of the war. Glancing at a map, one would be
inclined to think places indicated in capitals and small capitals to
be important towns; as a matter of fact each is but a cluster of
houses, a store or two, the inevitable church, and an hotel. This is
typical of places like Rustenburg, Heilbron, Middelburg, Carolina, &c.
Kroonstad, Brandfort and Pretoria are but larger clusters, more
hotels, and more churches. The latter certainly possess some really
excellent public buildings; the private villas are charming, and
suggest the _otium cum dignitate_, while the State artillery barracks
are reputed to be the finest in the world. Johannesburg is the one
town of the Transvaal, and can hold its own against the world. But it
must not be forgotten that the Uitlander alone has made it what it is.
As a sink of iniquity it has the unenviable distinction of ranking
second only to San Francisco. Gambling saloons abut on to the streets,
and at some gambling is restricted to gold alone. One can imagine what
Johannesburg must have been under a corrupt Government, such as the
one we have just displaced—the Rand, a succession of gold-mines, being
practically suburban. Johannesburg sports a public-house at every
fifty yards, and it is the refuse of the Rand that forms the nucleus
of the band of outlaws and desperadoes known as the Irish Brigade
_alias_ Blake’s Ruffians. The very antithesis of this contingent are
known as the Imperial Light Horse, who have been so highly
complimented by Sir George White as constituting the finest fighting
men in the world.
Very characteristic of the dashing and humorous leader under whom
Lumsden’s Horse served in this march is the following story told by
Captain Beresford:
I remember one very wet cold day when we were attached to Mahon’s
column. While on the march a sergeant and two men were told off to go
and forage for some provisions. Coming across a Boer farm, they helped
themselves to a turkey or two and some poultry. Now, it happened that
General Ian Hamilton the day previous had paid for what his men took,
so the Boer was loud in his protestation, but all the satisfaction he
could get from our men was, ‘The General will pay.’ General Mahon
passing shortly after, the man presented his bill, which amounted to
fifteen shillings. On seeing it the General made inquiries as to which
corps the foraging party belonged to, and being told, sent for an
officer of the corps and requested _him_ to pay the bill; but as the
officer had not fifteen shillings about him, the General very kindly
lent him the money till he could obtain it from his brother-officers
and men, who found out then that the General would not be universal
provider.
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Footnote 13:
Lord Kitchener’s force went to relieve Colonel Hore at Eland’s
River.—ED.
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