Week ending 21st October, 1899
CHAPTER II
Week ending 28th October, 1899
CHAPTER III
Week ending 4th November, 1899
CHAPTER IV
Week ending 11th November, 1899
CHAPTER V
Week ending 18th November, 1899
CHAPTER VI
Week ending 25th November, 1899
CHAPTER VII
Week ending 2nd December, 1899
CHAPTER VIII
Week ending 9th December, 1899
CHAPTER IX
Week ending 16th December, 1899
CHAPTER X
Week ending 23rd December, 1899
CHAPTER XI
Week ending 30th December, 1899
CHAPTER XII
Week ending 6th January, 1900
CHAPTER XIII
Week ending 13th January, 1900
CHAPTER XIV
Week ending 20th January, 1900
CHAPTER XV
Week ending 27th January, 1900
CHAPTER XVI
Week ending 3rd February, 1900
CHAPTER XVII
Week ending 10th February, 1900
CHAPTER XVIII
Week ending 17th February, 1900
INTRODUCTION
The famous Ultimatum had gone forth to the world. War had come at last.
We, in Kimberley, were in for it--though happily unconscious of our
destiny until it was revealed by the gradations of time. Nothing awful
was anticipated. The future was veiled. The knowledge of what was to
come was brought home to us by a gradual process that kept us
permanently sane. Dull Kimberley was to be enlivened in a manner that
made us wish it were dull again. We felt it from the first--the sense of
imprisonment--the deprivation of liberty. But that was all, we
thought--all that we should be called to endure. Nobody could leave
Kimberley for a little while; it was awkward, certainly; but nothing
more. How long would the Siege last? "About a week" was a favoured
illusion; until reflective minds put our period of probation at a
fortnight. But the higher critics shook their heads, and added--another
seven days. Three weeks was made the maximum by general, dogmatic
consent. Nobody ventured beyond it; in fact, nobody dared to. Suspicion
would be apt to fall upon the man who suggested a month. Feeling ran
high, and as we all felt the limits of our confinement narrow enough
already, we entertained no wish to have them made narrower still, by
knocking our heads against the stone walls of the gaol. Not then. There
came a time, alas! when we reflected with a sigh upon the probability of
our rations being more regular and assured if we broke a window, or the
law in some way, and gave ourselves up. For the nonce, however, three
weeks would pass, and with them all our woes. The idea of eighteen weeks
occurred to nobody; it would have been too farcical, too puerile. That
starvation must have killed us long ere the period had fled, would have
been our axiom, if it were pertinent to the issue, when the 'pros' and
'cons' of the situation were being eagerly discussed on the opening days
of a Siege that was to send the fame of the Diamond City farther than
ever did its diamonds. A few weeks would terminate the trouble; and if,
in the interim, we ran short of trifles, like salt or pepper, well--we
would bear it for sake of the Flag. Kimberley is a British stronghold,
with a loyal population imbued with a fine sense of the invincibility of
the British army. Many people were surprised to find that they could
descant sincerely and patriotically upon the might and glories of the
Empire. Even the Irish Nationalist seemed to feel that it took a nation
upon whose territory the sun itself could not set to subjugate his
native land; and he was moved to remind his Anglo-Saxon mates that the
absent-minded beggars of the Emerald Isle had contributed to the
promotion of daytime all night.
The Diamond City was in certain respects well adapted to withstand a
siege. The old residents delighted to call it a city. Newcomers, who had
Continental ideas on the subject, inclined to think the term a misnomer,
and a reflection upon Europe and America. But although its buildings
were not high, nor its houses very majestic, Kimberley was a rich place,
and a large place, with a good white population and a better coloured
one. It had its theatre, and it had its Mayor. Arrogant greenhorns were
soon made to cease winking when we talked of the "city"; for Kimberley
_was_ a city (after a fashion), and the most important centre in the
Cape Colony. The young Uitlander (just out) who described it as "a funny
place, dear mother; all the houses are made of tin, and all the dogs are
called '_voet sak_,'" was more cynical than truthful.
The numerous debris heaps surrounding the city made excellent
fortifications, and it was not surprising that the Boers put, and kept,
on view the _better_ part of their valour only, when from their own
well-chosen positions they looked across at our clay Kopjes. To have
attacked or taken Kimberley, they would have been obliged to traverse a
flat, open country; and they have an intelligent antipathy to rash
tactics of that sort, when fighting a foe numerically stronger than
themselves. They were reputed to believe that Providence was on their
side; it was even stated that their ardour to "rush" Kimberley knew no
bounds, until it was cooled by the restraining influence of General
Cronje. That astute leader, though fully cognisant of the virtues of his
people, had a respect for "big battalions," and thought that the virtue
designated patience would best meet the necessities of the situation.
Accordingly, he and his army, well primed with coffee, lay entrenched
around Kimberley, in the fond hope of starving us into submission.
Artillery of heavy calibre was utilised to enliven the process--with
what result the world knows.
And how were we prepared to meet the attentions of this well-equipped
and watchful enemy? We had a few seven-pound guns capable of hurling
walnuts that cracked thousands of yards short of the Boer positions; and
a Maxim or two, respected by the enemy, but easily steered clear of. Of
what avail were these against the potent engines of destruction on the
other side? And as for men; with great difficulty, and by dint of much
pressure, the authorities had been persuaded to send us five hundred (of
the North Lancashire Regiment, and Royal Engineers) under command of
Colonel Kekewich (who constituted himself Czar, in the name of the
Queen)--a small total with which to defend a city--"a large, straggling
city, thirteen miles in circumference," as Lord Roberts subsequently
observed, that he could hardly have thought it possible to defend so
long and so successfully with the forces at our command, that is to
say, with five thousand men; for such was the strength of the garrison
when the shop boys, the clerks, the merchants, and the artisans had
stepped into the gap with their rifles.
In anticipation of trouble, a Town Guard had already been formed when
the Federal forces invaded the Cape. The noisy and discordant hooters of
the mines were to signal the approach of the foe, and to intimate to the
members of the Guard that they were to proceed to the redoubts of their
respective Sections to prepare a greeting. Over at the Sanatorium,
facing the suburb of Beaconsfield, the movements of the enemy were being
closely watched. A conning tower soared high above the De Beers mine,
from which coign of vantage a keen eye swept the horizon for signs of
their advance. At the Reservoir, a look-out was on the _qui vive_. The
Infantry were encamped in a central position, ready for instant despatch
to wherever their services might be needed most. The Kimberley Regiment
of Volunteers had turned out--to a man--for Active Service. War was
certain; its dogs, indeed, were already loosed. The Boers, by way of
preliminary, had been cutting telegraph wires, tearing up rails, blowing
up culverts, and had taken possession of an armoured train at Kraaipan.
Our defences were being strengthened on all sides. The enemy appeared to
be massing in the vicinity of Scholtz's Nek. Such was the condition of
things on the fourteenth of October (1899). Next day (Sunday) the siege
of Kimberley had begun.
THE SIEGE OF KIMBERLEY
ITS HUMOROUS AND SOCIAL SIDE
CHAPTER I
_Week ending 21st October, 1899_
The news relative to the tearing up of the railway line, and the cutting
of the telegraph wires at Spytfontein, spread fast and freely on Sunday
morning. Rather by good luck than good management there happened to be
an armoured train lying at the railway station, and into it, with a
promptitude that augured well for his popularity, the Colonel ordered a
number of his men. The train had not proceeded far when it was
discovered that the rails had been displaced at points nearer home than
Spytfontein. They were soon relaid, however, by the Royal Engineers, and
the train in due course reached its destination. A number of residents
in the neighbourhood were taken on board for conveyance to the
beleagured city. These included the local stationmaster, whose services
were not likely to be in demand for some weeks,--three as we conceived
it. It shortly became evident that there were Boers in the vicinity who
had been watching the progress of operations, and had deemed it prudent
to sing dumb until the train made a move for Tiome. They then opened
fire and hurled several shells at it; but though a carriage was struck
by the fragments, no serious damage resulted. In appreciation of the
compliment, the invisible soldiers sent back a disconcerting volley,
which led, as excess of gratitude often does, to some confusion. It
proved, indeed, to be a kindness that killed one burgher and wounded
half-a-dozen. The armoured train steamed back to Kimberley in triumph.
Meanwhile the excitement in town was great. The situation, in all its
bearings, was being eagerly discussed by gesticulating groups of men and
women. Intelligence arrived that the enemy had cut off our water supply;
and the public were commanded to use what remained in the reservoir with
circumspection, and for domestic purposes only. The public became duly
alarmed, and just retained sufficient presence of mind to take a drought
by the forelock, by filling their buckets, crocks, and cooking utensils
with water. It was one of many little contingencies that had not been
bargained for; the idea of water evaporating while there was yet tea to
brew with it was both ridiculous and appalling. But there was not much
danger of such a calamity; the reservoir was yet half full, and when it
was empty, ways and means could be devised--with the permission of De
Beers--to fill the tea-pots. The ladies were reassured.
Huge posters, proclaiming Martial Law, adorned the dead walls, and were
being eagerly scanned by the populace. The publicans of the town had
been noting events with the composure of men who had already made their
"piles"; but they were, nevertheless, smitten with sudden fury when they
read that all bars and canteens were to be shuttered each evening at
nine o'clock. They showered anathema upon the Colonel, and gave
expression to opinions of his administrative capacity which were at
variance with the views of people outside the "trade." Pedestrians were
warned against walking out _before_ six in the morning, or _after_ nine
in the evening--under pain of a heavy penalty. All persons not enrolled
in the defence forces, the proclamation went on to say, were to deliver
up whatever arms and ammunition they possessed. This was an article of
much significance and importance. We had in our midst a number of
people, enjoying the rights and privileges of British subjects, whose
"loyalty," in the minds of the authorities, was an uncertain quantity.
Their sympathy with the Boers was natural enough; but it was at the same
time too deep--in the eyes of Martial Lawyers--to be compatible with the
duty due to the Queen. A house to house visit was inaugurated by the
police--the sequel to which was the lodgment of some twenty persons
within the solid masonry of the gaol. The most prominent of the
prisoners was one employed as a guard in the mines. De Beers had always
been credited with a desire to observe strict impartiality in their
choice of servants, and the prisoner had hit upon a curious way of
demonstrating his appreciation of such a policy. Ever since they had
learned to handle an assegai the pugnacious natives shut up in the
compounds had been spoiling for a fight; and, having heard of the
Ultimatum, they were just then particularly restless, and keen on
expediting a Waterloo. The obliging guard had thrown open the gates to
gratify the "niggers"--on condition that British heads _only_ were to be
hit! The natives itched to hit somebody, and could not afford to let
slip so good a chance by dilly-dallying over details. They agreed to the
terms; but were fortunately herded together again before they could
strike a blow. It may have been only a slip of the tongue on the guard's
part; but the canons of martial law held such "slips" to be
unpardonable. The one in question lost a man his liberty for two years,
and his billet for ever.
The public were enjoined to hold no communication with the enemy, and to
give them no direct nor indirect assistance. Finally, the proclamation
informed us, a Court of Summary Jurisdiction had been established, armed
with power and authority to hang traitors until they were dead; to
confiscate their property; to lash them (when they escaped death); and
even to deal severely with Imperial persons who failed to comply with
the various regulations set forth in the plain English of one who had
the advantage of being only a _Martial_ lawyer.
It was not until eleven o'clock--during the hours of Divine
Service--that the hundred thousand ears adorning the anatomy of the
human population were first shocked by the horrisonous banshee wail of
the hooters. The music was awe-inspiring, and ineffably weird. It seemed
to portend the cries of the dying; and it was small wonder that the
people subsequently endeavoured--as they did successfully--to have a
more tuneful instrument employed. The immediate effect of the alarm was
to send members of the Town Guard running from their respective homes
and churches to the Town Hall, and thence, in orderly squads of four,
with grim and stern faces, to the redoubts. Non-combatants, in
compliance with the proclamation, went reluctantly to their houses.
Tram-loads of scared women and nonchalant babies were hurried in from
Beaconsfield. The streets were soon deserted. There was no panic; but
many a poor woman felt that the life of a husband, a father, a lover, or
a brother was in jeopardy, and many a fervent prayer went up to heaven.
The battle, however, did not begin. Large commandoes of Boers had been
seen hovering about, and by boastful display had given us the impression
that they purposed attacking the city. It was merely display; the wily
Boer did not yet mean business. He eventually betook himself to coffee
as a more profitable way of spending the afternoon. Late in the evening
the Town Guard entertained some similar ideas with respect to tea, and
were permitted to go home and drink it there.
Next morning, the armoured train was out early; but the Boers discreetly
connived at its effrontery--having, doubtless, still in their minds
unpleasant recollections of its volley-firing. At Modder river, twenty
miles away, the enemy, it was said, were making prisoners of inoffensive
persons, and blowing up the bridge. Bridges seem to have been their pet
aversions everywhere. At Slipklip one was blown sky-high; and artistic
skill was displayed in the picturesque wreck that was made of Windsorton
Road Station.
The town, preparing for anything that might happen, presented a scene of
bustle and confusion. What with strengthening and extending the defence
works, levelling native locations (which might possibly prove
advantageous to the Boers as a cover), and finding new homes for the
evicted, Kimberley looked a stirring place--though train and telegraph
services were suspended.
The ranks of the Town Guard were being augmented daily; fresh men were
coming up in batches to be "sworn in." There was no medical examination,
nor any such bother. Anybody in trousers was eligible for a hat, a
bandolier, and a rifle; and lads in their teens affected one-and-twenty
with the _sang froid_ of one-and-forty. Camp life, and, mayhap, a little
fighting, would be a novelty--for three weeks. Certain employers were at
first disposed to keep their employees exclusively to the work they
engaged them to perform; but the most obtuse among the captains of
industry were soon made to realise that such an attitude, if persisted
in, would scarcely pay. This truth was brought home to them so forcibly
that they forthwith developed the fighting spirit, and became the most
blood-thirsty entities in, the service of the Queen. All were needed,
and When afterwards a merchant found himself "officered" by his
_factotum_, he enjoyed (after a fleeting spasm); the humour of the
revolution as much as anybody.
The manner in which the drills were muddled through at the beginning was
primitive and amusing. The agony depicted on the faces of the "raw"; the
_hauteur_ of the seasoned campaigner; the blunders of the clerks; the
leggings of the lieutenants: made spectators risk martial law and laugh
in the face of it. Ever and anon, the butt of a rifle would come in
contact with some head other than that of him who carried the gun, and
the victim--not the assailant--would be sharply reprimanded for omitting
to "stand at ease." The marching and the turning movements were comical,
too; but practice did much to make perfect the amateur soldiers in
mufti. They, naturally, desired a little target practice. With many of
them experience in the use of arms had been limited to a snowball, a
pop-gun, or a bird-sling; and they were not only dubious of their
marksmanship, but fearful that their rifles in the rough and tumble of
war's realities would "kick" to pieces their 'prentice shoulders. The
authorities, however, could not allow ammunition to be wasted; it might
all be needed for actual warfare. This only tended to make the men
anxious to try conclusions with the Boers--or, better still, the foreign
officers who, it was supposed, directed operations "from behind, when
there was any fighting," like the Duke of Plaza Tora in the play.
The De Beers Corporation continued with untiring energy to do what in
them lay for the further protection of the town, and on Monday offered
to provide the military with a thousand horses. The offer was gladly
accepted. It was decided to form a mounted corps of men who could ride
well and shoot straight. We had a good few denizens of the Rand in our
midst, and there was no difficulty in finding men proficient in both
accomplishments to place on the backs of the horses. There came into
being, accordingly, the famous Kimberley Light Horse--a corps destined
to play an heroic, a tragic part in defence of the Diamond City. To the
refugee the pay was convenient, the work bracing and congenial, and the
prospect of "potting a Boer" not at all bad. With the Light Horse were
soon to be associated some hundreds of the Cape Police (who came in from
Fourteen Streams); and the combined forces inflicted considerable
damage, and were a perennial source of irritation to the enemy all
through. De Beers came out strong in another direction by heading the
list of subscriptions to a Refugee fund which had been opened. The
amount subscribed ran up to four figures. Much distress prevailed, and
the Refugee committee set about distributing the fund to the best
advantage. The ladies came out strong here, and gave yeomen
service--scooping out flour, meal, tea, and sugar to the needy, and in
sifting and rejecting, with rare acumen, the bogus claims of the "Heaps"
who affected humble poverty.
The Summary Commission sat for the first time, and with a courageous
disregard for the despotism of red tape, proceeded to business. The
first case called was that of one, Pretorious, whose open and vehement
condemnation of the war, and the policy that led to it, had rendered him
an object of suspicion. A search of his house had resulted in the
discovery of a revolver and two rifles, with ammunition to suit all
three. The Proclamation had been very clear as to the seriousness; of
this offence, and the penalty it entailed. The Court pronounced the
accused guilty, and sentenced him to six months' imprisonment. The cases
of minor offenders were postponed, and some of the prisoners awaiting
trial were released on bail. The fate of Pretorious was paraded by
mischief-makers as something which had produced a salutary effect in the
Dutch element at large. It induced them to cultivate a remarkable
reticence; but reticence is not essentially a product of good
government.
On Wednesday, the Boers--in so far as their demeanour could be gauged
from a distance--betrayed a tendency to wax indignant with us and our
determination to fight. Large numbers of them perambulated to and fro,
keeping nicely out of rifle range. A section of the Town Guard went out
to the Intermediate Pumping Station, and sought to entice them into
battle; but they were not to be drawn. The Beaconsfield Town Guard was
afterwards deputed to try its powers of persuasion--to no purpose. The
armoured train was finally resorted to as a decoy; but beyond eyeing it
from a distance--and if looks could smash, it would have been reduced to
small pieces--the Boers made no attempt to catch it. So far from being
lured or wheedled by us, they rather conveyed by their wariness that
green had no place in their eyes.
A copy of a Boer proclamation, which had been wafted into Kimberley by a
cynical breeze, gave rise to much astonishment and criticism. In
substance, it presented the Transvaalers with all territory north of the
Vaal river; the Free Staters with the Cape Colony; and the British
with--the sea! The Colonel read and appreciated the excellence of the
joke, but thought it politic to give people who lacked a sense of humour
a little illumination. He, accordingly, issued a counter-proclamation
which made the "point" of the other clear: it was not to be taken
seriously. The British element, which largely predominated, found scope
for their humour in the Boer proclamation; that the enemy should limit
his pretensions to portions of a single continent was surprising.
_Punch_ subsequently published a cartoon which represented President
Steyn artistically painting all territory south of the Equator a
pleasing Orange hue. Oom Paul, looking on in dismay, enquires: "Where
do I come in?" "Oh," Steyn replies airily, "there is the rest of the
British Empire."
But to return to the proclamations. Colonel Kekewich had yet another to
draft; the conduct of the natives compelled it. Many of the aborigines
were addicted to drinking more than was good for them of a species of
brandy--a fiery concoction, with a "body" in it, called Cape Smoke. They
staggered through the streets, rolled their eyes, flourished big sticks,
and sang songs of Kafirland in a key that did not make for harmony. So
the Colonel reasoned that he might as well write out another
proclamation while he was about it, and had pen and ink convenient. He
restricted the sale of "smoke," and decreed that all Kafir bars and
canteens were to remain open between the hours of ten and four o'clock
only. He also provided for the imposition of heavy penalties upon all
and sundry who dared to disobey.
The bar-keepers, it need hardly be said, were angry; it was going rather
too far, they thought. Was it the province of a military man to
advocate, still less to enforce, temperance? Had not the "black" an
"equal right" to quench his thirst? The canteen-men thought so; some of
them, indeed, were sure of it, and went so far as to defy "despot sway,"
by ignoring it. They continued ministering to the needs of the
horny-handed sons of toil. But the police--miserable
time-servers--_would_ do their duty; they were forced to uphold the
Colonel's law, and to requisition the services of the celebrated local
"trappers." The rebel Bonifaces were thus duly indicted, arraigned
before the Summary Court, and heavily fined or deprived of their
licenses.
The death of a sergeant of the Diamond Fields' Artillery threw a gloom
over the city. He was mourned for as one who, indirectly, had sacrificed
his life in defence of Kimberley. It was our first casualty; and made us
wonder how many more there were to be--or rather, if there were to be
any more.
Friday came, and with it came two English prisoners who had made good
their escape from the Boers. Their story was interesting. They carried
Martini-Henry rifles, but (as they explained) given a choice in the
selection, would have chosen Mausers. Their friends, the enemy, had
presented them with the weapons--conditionally; all they had asked in
return was that the recipients should join the Republican ranks. The
Englishmen scratched their heads, hesitated about striking a bargain,
and were promptly commandeered. They determined, however, to get the
best of the bargain at last; they escaped; and here they were in our
midst, easing their consciences with expressions of their intention to
restore the rifles to their rightful owners when the war was over, and
as much of the ammunition as possible, on the instalment plan, while it
lasted.
They had heard pitiful tales of the straits to which we had been
reduced. Imaginative natives had assured them that there was "no more
Kimberley"; the "fall" of Mafeking, forsooth, had staggered us so much
that we did not want to fight. We were in our last gasps for a drop of
water. Terrible guns were being wheeled to the diamond fields, to
scatter it to the four winds of heaven. The diamonds were first to be
blown out of the mines, and with them the local "imaginative"
shareholders; while the _Verkleur_ was to be unfurled Over the City
Hall. All the perishable property was to be confiscated, and consumed as
a sort of foretaste of what was due to the proud invaders' valour. Such
was the romance dinned into the ears of our visitors. Happily, they made
allowances for Bantu palsy, and did not hesitate to ignore it.
Saturday proved altogether uneventful, and prolific in nothing but
outrageous lies. One item of news, however, was but too true: the good
folk of Windsorton had surrendered to the Boers. Intelligence of a more
agreeable nature followed soon after. Cronje's repulse at Mafeking, and
the British victory at Glencoe, made us hopeful at the end of a week,
the beginning of which had looked so ominous; and nearly all things were
to our satisfaction on Saturday night when the third part of our "time"
had formally expired.