SPION KOP.
From the middle of November to the end of December, some one would come
around every week to ask for volunteers to rush Ladysmith. The Irish
boys responded to a man every time, but for some reason the rush was
never made. Personally I considered the scheme idiotic, because every
foot of ground in and around Ladysmith was strongly fortified, and our
investing force was very small as compared to General White's army of
12,000 men.
At the conclusion of the Battle of Modderspruit, I strongly urged the
Boers to storm the town, and I continued to urge them every day for
the ten following days, but Generals Erasmus and Schalk Burger thought
that all such talk was nonsense. The English as yet had practically no
defences that we could not overcome. As soon as White got everything in
apple-pie order and had finished all his defences and well surrounded
them with barbed wire, then it was that Generals Erasmus and Schalk
Burger and their kind were most anxious to rush and take Ladysmith.
They really thought that the burghers would then refuse, but they
didn't. So it happened that on January 5th a fellow came to the Irish
camp, as they had often done before, for volunteers, and received the
same answer, "We'll be with you." General Erasmus sent around the
necessary orders--and may have sent one to White, too, as far as I
know,--and all the men were to be in positions agreed upon by 3 a.m.
the following morning, January 6th. During the night General Erasmus
sent a countermanding order to some of the Transvaal Commandos, but
forgot to let the Free Staters know that he had done so. Much to my
surprise, we were ordered to go with four field guns and take position
on a small hill near the Pretoria Town laager, and just in front of the
English guns and forts on the Rooirand, north of Ladysmith. We were
in our position at the proper time, and there sat for hours awaiting
further orders and developments.
Just at the first break of dawn we heard the mausers of the Free
Staters singing in the distance. There was no pause; it was continuous,
and I knew that the brave Free Staters were carrying out their part of
the program faithfully and well, because they had brave and dashing
commandants and veldtcornets. Pretty soon we heard the mausers begin
to sing right in front of us, and then we knew that the brave Pretoria
Town boys were right at the English forts, yet it was not light enough
for us to see them. Before we could see distinctly, the firing in
front of us ceased, but with the Free Staters it continued as lively as
ever.
Just before the sun peeped above the horizon, Long Tom on Bulwana, the
guns on Lombard Kop, on Pepworth Hill and all the guns about Ladysmith
sent shells whistling through the air. Every one fired his gun when he
pleased and where he pleased, although the night before it was ordered
that the guns should be concentrated on some one point in due time to
be named. The artillery boys were not to blame in the least, because
they had not received any instructions. Now we saw about 150 of the
Pretoria Town boys in a sluit about 100 yards from the English forts.
They had tried to scale a high stone wall, and, failing, left four of
their number dead at the foot of it and taken refuge in a sluit where
we could now see them. Only daring and fearless men would rush that
fort and try to scale that twelve-foot wall. Our guns were now trained
and turned loose on the forts just above the Pretoria boys. The English
with five or six guns made a quick response, and for hours shells
were flying back and forth with such rapidity that we were strongly
reminded of our experience on Pepworth Hill. The Pretoria boys were
in no danger, as long as we were firing, for the English had to keep
themselves well protected. There was a Pretoria District Commando,
about 700 strong, not more than 1,000 yards to our left. I mounted
my horse and went to see them, for help was necessary. I found them
lying under shade trees smoking their pipes and drinking coffee, as
peacefully and unconcernedly as if there was no firing about Ladysmith.
I told them of the position of the Pretoria Town boys, and tried to
convince them that if they would turn out we would take the forts on
the Rooirand. They simply answered that General Erasmus had told them
that they would not be needed, and I rode back feeling disgusted.
General Erasmus had promised to support the Free Staters and the
Pretoria Town boys, but instead of sending them any assistance, he
went back about a mile out of danger, and left all to their fate. Some
Transvaal Commandos had come up from the Tugela and partly taken the
east side of the Platrand. They fought hard and bravely on the east,
while the Free Staters who had captured some of the forts on the west
side were still in possession, and almost engaged in a hand to hand
fight with the English. They were constantly expecting re-enforcements
promised by Erasmus, but none ever came. On our side we had simply an
artillery duel, while on the east and west side of the Platrand the
burghers continued hotly engaged in rifle fire at very close range for
the whole day. About four o'clock in the afternoon a terrific rain and
hail storm fell upon us. We were ordered to pull down the guns and
return to camp, regardless of the fact that the Pretoria Town boys were
still held in the sluit by the English. The storm did not effect those
on the Platrand, for the firing continued as heavy as ever. During this
storm the Pretoria boys made a run for life and liberty, and although
the English gave them a hot fire, all came out safely. It was not
till late at night that the Free Staters and Transvaalers gave up all
hope on the Platrand and returned to their camps. Every one spent the
next day in damning Erasmus, yet he was not dismissed, nor laid aside
for reflection, because he was very wealthy, and belonged to one of
the best families in the Transvaal. We had a heavy loss on that day,
fifty being killed and 135 wounded. Of course the Free Staters were
heavy losers. The English made a poor defence, and I feel sure that
if Erasmus had sent his promised re-enforcements, the Platrand would
have been taken, and of course that would have caused the immediate
surrender of Ladysmith.
General White reported that he sent back eighty dead to the Boer lines.
Another officer wrote that he counted 135 dead on the field. By just
such official lying as this the British forces succeeded in killing
off the entire Boer forces more than four times during the war, yet
almost the entire Boer force was still alive at the end of the war. The
military colleges of England must be special schools for turning out
trained liars to command in the British army, otherwise the conduct of
the British officer in his report of the battles, etc., of the Boer
war is beyond my understanding. I have spoken very harshly of Erasmus,
Meyer and Burger, but they eminently deserve all I have said. The
bravest and the most daring of the Boer commanders will always find the
rank and file ready to follow him, but not to lead him. This statement
will apply and prove equally true in all armies except the British,
and it will not apply there, for the reason that there is such a wide
chasm between the British officer and soldier, that the latter has
neither respect for the former as an officer, nor confidence in him as
such; consequently the British officer must drive the soldier into the
fighting line. When once the British soldier has respect and confidence
in his officer, he will follow him, without a murmur, into the very
jaws of death. But I must here state one condition, and that is, that
the British soldier who is ever ready to follow his respected officer
must be either an Irishman or a Scotchman, for the Johnny proper, being
degenerate, and no longer a warrior, does not believe in risking life
for the off-chance of taking life.
Now I return to Buller and his army, and I see them making grand
preparations to do something. I thought to myself that he had at last
discovered the key, Langwani Hill, that alone would open the gates of
the Boer lines, and lead him to Ladysmith, where many thousand starving
people were praying for his coming. I was mistaken, for soon he and his
whole army were seen coming around the bend of the Tugela towards Spion
Kop. It was now evident to all that a big fight must take place to the
west of Ladysmith, and in plain view of both besieger and besieged.
He pitched his camp behind what is known to the Boers as the
Bosch-rand, a high, wooded mountain ridge that commanded all the hills
on our side of the river. This river ran up to the very foot of the
Bosch-rand, and then making a pretty sharp curve, wound its way back to
the foot of the hills on our side. The river valley was perfectly flat
and about 4,000 yards wide, and as the river wound its way through it,
first touching the hills on one side and then on the other, it made a
succession of U's. This was an ugly river, with steep, muddy banks,
and as I looked at it and its beautiful valley, bounded by high hills,
it reminded me of a great amphitheatre in which a few scattered Boers
were to occupy the top seats, and a big English army the ring. Both the
English and Boers were to be actors, and the gods above were alone to
witness and judge one of the greatest, most exciting and destructive
contests-at-arms of modern times, in which the Boers were destined to
wear the crown of victory.
Buller's first attempt was to turn Botha's right, but after five days
hard fighting he withdrew and fixed his attention on Spion Kop. General
Botha had left only a guard of fifteen men on this kop, and in the very
early morning of January 24th, a large force of Buller's men surprised
them and drove them off. General Buller now had possession of the kop,
and there was no valid reason why he and his big army should not march
into Ladysmith with but little trouble or delay. But they didn't, and I
will tell why they didn't.
General Buller had failed to get permission of a small band of Boer
patriots who were near at hand. About ninety men of the Carolina
Commando crawled up the kop, and, having reached the crest, immediately
opened fire on the British force. Thus began the great battle, the
bloody and disastrous Battle of Spion Kop. The ninety Boers were soon
re-enforced by small detachments following each other up the kop until
the total number reached about 250 men. The English held the kop,
occupied the defences, and besides had at least fifteen men to every
Boer.
[Illustration: GOOD ENGLISHMEN AFTER SPION KOP LYING ON THE SIDE HILL.]
Counting the Boers on the right and left sides of the kop who also took
part in the fight, the total number of them engaged was about 600,
but the actual number on the kop, who alone fought the big English
force, was about 250 men. The Boers and the English were within easy
point-blank range of each other, and at some points no more than
fifty yards separated them. Here was the time, the place and the
opportunity for the British to display that bold courage, that dash
and fighting quality of which they have been boasting for centuries,
for, with their overwhelming numbers, they would have easily swept
that little handful of Boers off the kop. But they positively declined
to take advantage of such conditions to display British pluck and
courage, and, in the end, were themselves swept off. In their wars with
the blacks, it had been their rule to hoist the Union Jack, boldly
advance as at Khartoum, and when they discovered a horde of unarmed
and defenceless negroes, make a mad rush, fall upon them and shoot
them down; then apply the cold steel, and when they have murdered the
last one and see him lying at their feet, with blood gurgling from his
mouth, give three cheers for the Union Jack, and everyone at once apply
for a Victoria Cross.
But on Spion Kop it was different, for no Union Jack was hoisted, no
Union Jack brought to the battlefield, no rush was made, because a Boer
was there, with a mauser in his hand--and that was a horse of another
color.--So the British halted and trembled, and then threw up the
sponge and retreated as fast as their legs would take them, each hoping
that he might escape the fatal bullet and receive his well deserved
Victoria Cross. I may here add that when you find any one so decorated
with the Victoria Cross, you may generally put him down as a worthless
son of a lord, or as a puny specimen of a puny, dissolute, diseased
nobility, or the son of some moneyed, unscrupulous politician to whom
the English Government must bow in obeisance. One in a thousand who has
been decorated may deserve it, but I even have my doubts about that.
Nearly all the officers and men of the British army who have been given
the Victoria Cross you will find in an English company's cigarette
packages, and that is just where they belong.
I shall not try to tell all that happened about Spion Kop, because
every reader would cry out, "the same old story." I must tell this,
however; Buller's fifty or more cannon fairly tore the top off all
our hills on both sides of Spion Kop, ploughed them up, pulverized
them, and put them in perfect condition for sowing oats and planting
mealies, but up to January 24th had killed only two Boers, an old man
and his son, although more than 3000 lyddite shells had been fired. Joe
Chamberlain and his pals made plenty of money that week, for tons of
lyddite were consumed. The whole atmosphere was fairly laden with the
yellow, sulphurous-looking lyddite fumes, and the Boers who finally
emerged from their trenches looked like so many Chinamen. They were
yellow about the eyes, nose, mouth and neck, and their clothes were
yellow too; but when they washed their faces they were Boers again,
and very lively ones at that. The effect, and the only affect of Mr.
Joe Chamberlain's lyddite fumes was to give the Carolina boys strength
and courage enough to paralyze the Tommies as fast as they could show
themselves on Spion Kop. This was a great blow to Mr. Chamberlain,
because it meant a great future loss to him financially, for it
disclosed the fact that lyddite in itself was very harmless; indeed,
if any of Mr. Chamberlain's lyddite should, by accident, strike a Boer
squarely in the chest, it is my honest opinion that that Boer would be
put out of action; but, as is usually the case, if Mr. Chamberlain's
lyddite shell should happen to miss the Boer by an inch or two, why,
that Boer would be liable to drop more Tommies before that fight was
over.
Louis Botha showed himself in great form, for he so placed his cannon
and maxims that they could sweep the side hills and the Tugela Valley
below Spion Kop, and, like a new broom, they made a clean sweep of
everything. How that fight did rage during that whole day! It was
heartrending to stand and watch the little band of heroic Boers
face fifteen bullets for every one they could send; but bravely and
unflinchingly they held their ground and won the admiration of the
world. Spion Kop and the adjacent hills were in a shiver, convulsion
after convulsion followed, as lyddite shell after lyddite shell
penetrated and tore up the earth.
I must here mention that at one time during the struggle on the kop,
the English felt that it was too hot for them, and naturally they
hoisted three or four white flags. The Boers stopped firing at once,
and four or five of them advanced to accept the surrender. Before
reaching the defences, Colonel Thornycroft with re-enforcements arrived
on the scene, hauled down the white flags and ordered the firing to
recommence. The four or five Boers would have been shot down, had
not the twenty-three English, who had already laid down their arms,
accompanied them as they ran back to their lines. Fighting was now
resumed and continued as if nothing had happened, until it grew too hot
for the English again, and once more the white flags were hoisted. The
Boers continued in their good work, regardless of the flags, and, as
a result, the English are howling to this day about the Boers firing
upon the white flags. If they hadn't fired upon them every one would
have deserved being shot himself. Time and time again during the war,
the English would hoist the white flag for no other reason than to get
the Boers to cease firing until they could get their own men in proper
position, when they would declare that no one was authorized to hoist
the white flag, and that the fighting must continue. The result was
that after a time the Boer would not recognize the white flag, for
he could no longer trust the English, and to surrender, the latter had
to throw down their rifles, hold up their hands and advance towards the
Boers. Although the English denounced this way of having to surrender
as low, suspicious and cowardly, yet thousands upon thousands of them
went through the formula before the war came to an end. It never
occurred to them that the Boers were forced to adopt that precaution as
a safeguard against treachery!
[Illustration: MORE GOOD ENGLISHMEN LYING ON THE SIDE HILL.]
During the six days' fighting the Boers lost fifty killed and about 120
wounded. I don't know the British loss, but I hope that at some time
during the twentieth century, the truth will leak out, and the number
of the British killed and wounded become known. The top of the kop was
covered with them; the sides of the kop and the Tugela Valley were also
strewn with the dead and wounded, and the Boers were not curious enough
to take the trouble to count them. The Boers requested the English to
come and bury their dead, and the English, in reply, asked the Boers
to bury them, and send them the bill. The gods might be able to make
a comment to fit that bill, but earthly mortals would do well to hold
their tongues. So I will pass on to General White and his inactivity.