A CHRISTMAS UNDER SIEGE
Husbanding supplies--Colonel Ward's fine work--Our Christmas
market--A scanty show--Some startling prices--A word to cynics--The
compounding of plum-puddings--The strict rules of temperance--Boer
greetings "per shell"--A lady's narrow escape--Correspondents
provide sport--"Ginger" and the mules--The sick and wounded--Some
kindly gifts--Christmas tree for the children--Sir George White and
the little ones--"When the war is over"--Some empty rumours--A
fickle climate--Eight officers killed and wounded--More messages
from Buller--Booming the old year out.
It needed perhaps all the music that could be mustered in the town
to remind the beleaguered garrison and inhabitants that the festive
season was upon them. It was inevitable that at such a time the
thoughts of all should turn a little regretfully to other scenes.
But it takes a great deal to depress the British soldier to the
point at which he is willing to forego his Christmas; and on all
hands, in spite of adverse fortune, preparations were made to keep
the day in as fitting a manner as the restricted means
allowed--with what success is described by Mr. Pearse in the
following letter:--
Thanks to the perfect organisation which Colonel Ward, C.B., brings into
all branches of the department over which he is chief here, and the
attention paid to innumerable details by his second in command, Colonel
Stoneman, there has never been any danger of necessary supplies being
exhausted, even if this place were invested for a much longer time than
seems likely now, but these two officers seem to have more than absolute
necessaries in reserve. When Colonel Ward was appointed Military
Governor of Ladysmith his measures for preserving health in the town and
camps surrounding it took a very comprehensive form. He not only made
provision for ample water-supply, in place of that which the Boers had
cut off, but his ideas of sanitary precaution embraced inquiry into
sources of food-supply and kindred subjects. To the end that he might
know whether wholesome meat and drink were being sold, it was obviously
necessary that he should have reports as to the articles in which
various proprietors of stores traded. Information on these points was
collected with so much care that, when the pinch came, he knew exactly
where to put his hand on provisions for the healthy and medical comforts
for the sick and wounded. He had only to requisition a certain number of
shops and hotels that were scheduled as having ample supplies of the
things wanted, and the trick was done. Some tradesmen were glad enough
to have their old stock taken over wholesale by the military authorities
at a profitable price, but others, who foresaw chances of a richer
harvest, were inclined to grumble at the arbitrary exercise of power of
officials whose acts they regarded as little better than confiscation,
and, unfortunately, some of these managed to evade the first call, so
that they were allowed to go on selling privately, and running up the
prices to a fabulous extent.
This was a mistake. All should have been treated alike, so that none
might complain that kissing goes by favour, even in the most immaculate
and best regulated armies. As it was, the military commissariat secured
much that would add to the comfort of soldiers, but for what was left
civilians had to pay dearly. Some idea of the way in which this worked
may be given by a quotation from the prices bid at our Christmas market
on Saturday. We have no Covent Garden or Leadenhall here, but it was
felt that some sort of show ought to be made at this festive season, and
accordingly everything in the form of Christmas fare that could be got
together was brought out for sale by auction. It did not amount to much.
The whole barely sufficed to fill one long table, which was placed in a
nook between the main street and a side alley, where fifty people or so
might crowd together without attracting the notice of Bulwaan's gunners,
who would delight in nothing so much as the chance of throwing a
surprise shell into the midst of such a gathering.
The time for holding this auction had been fixed with a view to the
enemy's ordinary practice of closing hostilities about sunset each
evening, but he does not allow this to become a hard and fast rule, nor
does he recognise "close time" that may not be broken in upon at will,
if sufficient temptation to shoot presents itself. So the sale was held,
not only in a secluded corner, but in the brief half-light between
sunset and night. Some civilians came as a matter of curiosity to look
on, but the majority were soldiers, regular or irregular, on business
intent, and they soon ran up with a rapidity that gave the good traders
of Ladysmith a lesson in commercial possibilities when it was too late
for them to profit by it to the full. Eggs sold readily at nine
shillings a dozen, their freshness being taken on trust and no questions
asked. Ducks that had certainly not been crammed with good food were
considered cheap at half a guinea each, and nobody grumbled at having to
give nine shillings and sixpence for a fowl of large bone but scanty
flesh. Imported butter in tins fetched eight and sixpence a pound, jam
three and sixpence a tin, peaches boiled that morning in syrup, and
classified therefore as preserves, went freely for seven and sixpence a
bottle, and condensed milk at five shillings a tin. But these prices
were low compared with the five shillings given for three tiny cucumbers
no longer than one's hand. The crowning bid of all, however, was thirty
shillings for twenty-eight new potatoes, that weighed probably three or
four pounds. The buyers were mostly mess-presidents of regiments, whose
officers began to crave for some change from the daily rations of tough
commissariat beef and compressed vegetables; or troopers of the Imperial
Light Horse, who will rough it with the best when necessity compels, but
not so long as there are simple luxuries to be had for the money that is
plentiful among them.
Cynics dining sumptuously in their clubs may jeer at the idea of
campaigners attaching so much importance to creature comforts. Let them
try a course of army rations for two months, and then say what price
they would set against a fresh egg or a new potato. Two privates of the
Gordon Highlanders stopped beside the auctioneer's stall as if
meditating a bid for some fruit. They listened in wonderment as the
prices went up by leaps and bounds. Then said one to the other, "Come
awa, mon! We dinna want nae sour grapes." For them, however, and for
others whose means did not run to Christmas market prices, there was
consolation in store. Colonel Ward had taken care that there should be a
reserve of raisins and other things necessary for the compounding of
plum-puddings; and officers of the Army Service Corps were able to
report for Sir George White's satisfaction that sufficient could be
issued for every soldier in this force to have a full ration. The only
thing wanting was suet, which trek oxen do not yield in abundance after
eking out a precarious existence on the shortest of short commons; and
half-fed commissariat sheep have not much superfluous fat about them.
What substitutes were found it boots not to inquire too curiously,
seeing that Tommy did not trouble to ask so long as he got his Christmas
pudding in some form. There was no rum for flavouring, as all liquors
have to be carefully hoarded for possible emergencies. So for once the
British soldier had to celebrate Christmas according to the rules of
strict temperance. Yet he managed to have a fairly festive time for all
that.
Boer guns sent us greeting in the shape of shells that did not explode.
When dug up they were found to contain rough imitations of plum-pudding
that had been partly cooked by the heat of explosion in gun barrels. On
the case of each shell was engraved in bold capitals, "With the
Compliments of the Season." This was the Boer gunner's idea of subtle
irony, he being under the impression that everybody in Ladysmith must be
then at starvation point. In all probability it did not occur to him
that he was throwing into the town a number of curious trophies which
collectors were eager to buy on the spot for five pounds each, with the
certainty of being able to sell them again if they cared to at an
enormous profit some day. After wasting some ammunition for the sake of
this practical joke, our enemies began a bombardment in earnest. Most of
this was directed at the defenceless town. One shell burst in a private
house, wounding slightly the owner, Mrs. Kennedy, whose escape from
fatal injuries seemed miraculous, for the room in which she stood at
that moment was completely wrecked, the windows blown out, and furniture
reduced to a heap of shapeless ruin.
Shells notwithstanding, the troops had their Christmas sports following
a substantial dinner of roast beef and plum-pudding. There were high
jinks in the volunteer camps, where Imperial Light Horse, Natal
Carbineers, and Border Mounted Rifles, representing the thews and sinews
of Colonial manhood, vied with Regular regiments in strenuous tugs of
war and other athletic exercises, preparatory to the tournament, which
is fixed for New Year's Day--"weather and the enemy's guns permitting."
Three special correspondents, whose waggons are outspanned to form a
pleasant little camp in the slightly hollowed ridge of a central hill,
where they cannot be seen from the Boer batteries, and are therefore
comparatively safe except from stray shells, organised a series of novel
sports for the benefit of their nearest neighbours--the Rifle Brigade
transport "South Africa," in the person of its genial representative,
put up most of the prize-money, and together we arranged a succession of
events, offering inducements enough to secure full entries for
competitions that lasted from ten o'clock in the morning until near
sunset, allowing sufficient intervals for the mid-day meal and other
refreshments. We flatter ourselves that our gymkhana, in which races
ridden on pack and transport mules furnished the liveliest incidents,
would take a lot of beating--as a humorous entertainment at any rate.
In order to avoid drawing fire from "Puffing Billy" or "Silent Sue" of
Bulwaan, the course had to be laid in a semicircle that passed the
picketing line for mules. Up to that point they would gallop like
thoroughbreds, then cut it to their customary feeding-places with a
promptness that sent several good riders to ground as if they had been
shot. There are several good jockeys in the Rifle Brigade transport, and
among them one who spent many days in racing stables at home and abroad
before he took it into his head to follow the fifes and drums of
"Ninety-Five." But even the redoubtable "Ginger," with all his
horseman's skill and powers of persuasion in French, Hindustani, and
English, could not prevail over a mule's will. It was more by luck than
good riding that anybody managed to get past the post without two or
three falls by the way. But this only added to the fun of the thing, for
Tommy when in sportive mood takes hard knocks with infinite good-humour.
When at the finish successful and unsuccessful competitors assembled to
cheer their hosts, the three correspondents had the gratification of
feeling that for a few of the many besieged soldiers in Ladysmith they
had helped to make Christmas merry.
[Illustration: THE BRITISH POSITION AT LADYSMITH, LOOKING SOUTH-EAST]
You may be sure that sick and wounded at Intombi hospital were not
forgotten in the midst of our wild festivities. For them the morning
train was laden with fruit, flowers, and such delicacies as the
resources of this beleaguered town can still furnish. There are many
unselfish people here who do not want to make money by selling things at
market prices, or to keep for their own use the dainties that might be
nectar to the lips of suffering soldiers. And there are officers also
who have given of their abundance so freely that they will have to be
dependent on similar generosity if the chances of war should number them
among the sick or wounded. I must guard myself against being
misunderstood. The hospital patients at Intombi Camp are not reduced to
meagre fare yet, nor likely to be, but medical comforts are not all that
a sick man craves for, and the simplest gifts sent from Ladysmith's
store that day must have been like a ray of sunshine brightening the lot
of some poor fellow with the assurance that, though far from home, he
was still among friends who cared for him. Nor were the weakly and the
children who still remain in this town forgotten. Colonel Dartnell, a
soldier of wide experience, who commands the Field Force of Natal
Police, and is beloved by every man serving under him; Major Karri
Davis, of the Imperial Light Horse; Colonel Frank Rhodes, Lord Ava, and
a few others got together the materials for a great Christmas tree, to
which all the little ones between babyhood and their teens were invited.
The Light Horse Major's long imprisonment with his brother officer
Sampson in Pretoria, far from embittering him against humanity in
general, has only made him more sympathetic with the trials and
sufferings of others; just as heavy fines and a death sentence seemed to
bring out the most lovable characteristics of Colonel Rhodes. It was
Karri Davis who bought up all the unbroken toys that were to be found in
Ladysmith shops; and the ready hands of ladies, who are always
interested in such work, decorated the Christmas trees or adorned the
hall in which this gathering was to be held with gay devices and hopeful
mottoes. There were four trees. Round their bases respectively ran the
words, "Great Britain," "Australia," "Canada," and "South Africa," and
above them all the folds of the Union Jack were festooned. Contributors
sent bon-bons and crackers in such profusion that each tree bore a
bewildering variety of fruit. To avoid confusion in distributing prizes,
these were numbered to correspond with the tickets issued; and Santa
Claus, who patronised the ceremony, in a costume of snowy swansdown,
that shed flakes wherever he walked, was content to play his part in
dumb show, while the children walked round after him to receive the toys
that were plucked for them, with many jests, by Colonel Dartnell and his
genial colleagues. Over two hundred children were there, and many of
them so young that it seemed as if the one precluded from attendance on
the score of extreme youthfulness must have been the siege baby, who was
then only a few days old. Generals Sir George White and Sir Archibald
Hunter, with their aides-de-camp and many staff officers, came to take
part in the interesting scene.
Looking at the little ones as they trooped through the hall, in their
white finery, Sir George said he had no idea that so many children
remained in Ladysmith, and perhaps at that moment his heart was heavy
with a deeper sense of the responsibility thrust upon him. But
fortunately we have been spared the worst horrors of a bombardment.
Though Boer gunners have never hesitated, but rather preferred, to turn
their fire on the open town, with a probability of hitting some house in
which were women and children, none of the latter, and only two of the
former, have been hit through the whole siege. Mrs. Kennedy, to whose
narrow escape I have already referred, suffered so little bodily injury
or nerve shock that she was present with her children at the Christmas
tree entertainment, and took the congratulations of her friends quite
coolly. After the children had gone home trees and trappings were
dismantled, and the hall cleared for dancing, which the young people of
Ladysmith and a few subalterns off duty kept up with much spirit until
near midnight. In days to come we may look back to our Christmas under
siege in Ladysmith, and think that after all we had not a very bad time.
At this moment, however, there is probably nobody outside who envies our
lot, or grudges us any enjoyment we may manage to get out of it.
Soldiers, at any rate, deserve every chance of relaxation that can be
found for them. There are several regiments of this force that have been
practically on outpost duty since the investment began, often exposed to
rain-storms during the day, because they could not pitch even shelter
tents without drawing the enemy's fire on them. When the honours for
this campaign come to be distributed I hope the services of these
regiments will not be ignored.
Some Boxing Day sports had to be postponed for a more convenient
opportunity, because shells were falling too thick about the camp, and
since then the Boer guns have been so busy that men find occupation
enough in fatigue duties at strengthening defensive works without
thinking about amusements. The bombardment that day began with the first
flush of roseate sunrise--when our enemies brought some smokeless guns
to bear on us from new positions--and went on steadily for hours until
"Puffing Billy" of Bulwaan left off shelling in this direction, and
turned to fire several shells eastward. Rumour, as usual, was equal to
the occasion, circulating stories that Sir Charles Warren's patrols were
known to be moving that way. These inventions are worth nothing unless
the names of corps or their commanding officers can be given, so their
originators always take care to give such realistic touches. They give
you "the lie circumstantial" or none at all. Possibly there may have
been in this firing more method than we imagine, the idea being to
mislead us by a pretended engagement with some force on the other side
of Bulwaan. Another rational theory is that the gunners were simply
expending a little ammunition in practice at range-finding for their
guidance in future eventualities. Any story proved acceptable as a
relief to the weariness of life in camp, that day when the thermometer
registered 108° in the shade. What a climate Natal has! For fickleness
it beats anything we have to grumble about in England. At night the
temperature went down to 65°, and the brilliant summer weather broke up
suddenly in a fierce thunderstorm. For a time every object roundabout
would be blotted out by inky blackness, and for the next two or three
minutes the lowering angry clouds would pulsate with dazzling light that
leaped upward like life-blood from the throbbing heart of the storm.
Each thundering peal was followed by a momentary lull, and then
spasmodic gusts shook the air, as if Nature were drawing a deep breath
for another effort. Before daybreak yesterday the storm had cleared,
leaving a clouded sky, but no mists about the hilltops, to prevent a
continuance of the bombardment.
Surprise Hill's howitzer surpassed previous performances by throwing
three shells over Convent Ridge into the town, and the Bulwaan guns,
having done with imaginary foes eastward, turned their attention to us
once more. One of the earliest shells from that battery struck the mess
tent of the Devon Regiment, and burst among officers at breakfast with
disastrous results. Captain Lafone, who had been wounded at
Elandslaagte, was killed; Lieutenant Price-Dent so seriously injured
that there is little hope of his recovery; six other subalterns
wounded--one being hit by shrapnel bullets or splinters in four
places--and the mess waiter struck down by a heavy splinter that
embedded itself beneath the ribs in a cavity too deep for probing at
present. There was a curiously spiteful touch in the bombardment all
day, and at midnight we were roused by sounds of rapid rifle-firing that
began from Bell's Spruit and the railway cutting against Observation
Hill and ran along to Rifleman's Ridge on one flank, and Devonshire Hill
on the other. It was all Boer firing, but no shots came into the line of
defences, and our men did not reply by letting off so much as one rifle.
A thunder-storm raged to the accompaniment of heavy rain for some time,
and perhaps the enemy thought we might choose such a night for attacking
them under cover of intense darkness.
The last few days of the closing year were, on the whole, quiet,
though, as Mr. Pearse seems to have felt, important events were
brewing. We make the following extracts from his notebook:--
_December 28._--This morning there was just a pale glimmer of dawn when
our large naval gun assumed the aggressive part, and sent six shells in
rapid succession on to Bulwaan battery and the hillside, where Boers
were moving about. A little later stretcher parties could be seen
collecting apparently wounded men. As "Puffing Billy" made no reply to
this challenge, but remained silent all day, it is probable that many of
the gunners were injured. "Silent Susan," otherwise "Bulwaan Sneak,"
however, fired several shots, and the bombardment was kept up from
Rifleman's Ridge, Telegraph Hill, and a 12-pounder on Middle Hill, while
Pom-Poms at two points barked frequently, but all this fuss and fury
happily did no harm to anybody. At night a brilliant beam, like the tail
of a comet, appeared in the southern sky. Presently the tail began to
wag systematically, and experts were able to spell out the words of a
cipher message. It was General Buller talking to us across fifteen miles
of hills, and the conversation, all on one side, was kept up until
lowering clouds shut out the light. We had no means of replying, but at
eleven o'clock our guns fired two shots as a signal that the message had
been seen and understood.
_December 29._--Yesterday and to-day the bombardment has been vigorous
in spite of heavy rain, and directed mainly on houses in town. Colonel
Dartnell had a narrow escape on Friday, a shell bursting close to his
tent in the Police Camp behind the Court-House. Next morning one came
into and through my old room at the Royal, completing its ruin. To all
this shooting the naval guns have replied effectively at intervals.
Ammunition for them is precious, and Captain Lambton's gunners take care
not to waste it on chance shots, as the Boer artillerymen do. From five
o'clock last evening until dawn this morning rain fell heavily. The
river rose four feet in one hour at midnight, flooding out the 18th
Hussars, who are bivouacked by its banks, and carrying away the bridge
that had been built by the Imperial Light Horse. Many horses and mules
were swept down-stream by the roaring torrent, and drowned before
anybody could attempt to save them.
_December 31._--The old year closes in a quiet that is probably
deceptive. More Boers than we have seen for weeks past are gathered
behind Bulwaan, many having returned from leave which Joubert is said to
have granted them to visit their home, with a liberality that shows his
confidence in our inactivity. It has not been so quiet all day. The
Boers disregarded their customary Sabbath rule of refraining from
hostilities unless provoked by some apparently menacing movement on our
part. There was nothing of that kind to incense them this morning, but
their gunners, unable to resist the temptation offered by herds of
cattle on Manchester Hill (as Cæsar's Camp is sometimes called), sent
one shell from "Silent Susan" on to that ridge. They missed their mark,
however, and did not get another chance until the afternoon, when
several "Sneakers" were aimed at the old camp, and one burst close to a
group of officers who were exercising themselves and their ponies for a
polo match. This may have been meant as a rebuke to the
Sabbath-breakers. Boer riflemen were engaged at that time in the more
reprehensible pastime of sniping our outposts at long range, and they
kept this up until near sunset, as if engaged in the most laudable duty;
but we have long since learned that the Boer judges his own conduct by
one standard and ours by another.
To-day the sun shone brilliantly, bringing back tropical heat, in
contrast to the cold that always accompanies violent thunder-storms in
Natal.
And so Christmas-tide was past, and the New Year broke upon the
beleaguered garrison. So great is the influence of times and
seasons that we may well believe that even in Ladysmith the first
day of 1900 brought a brighter ray of hope. But hope must yet for
long be deferred, and the daily round of tasks grow wearisome by
repetition--the daily dole of eked-out rations, the daily tale of
bursting shells, were for many weeks, with one day's startling
break, to be the sole preoccupation of the defenders. The enemy,
even on this first day of January, were not willing to leave the
garrison in doubt as to their presence, although, despite the
possible touch of sarcasm, there was a grim sort of friendliness in
their reminder. It again took the form of blind shells--this time
fired from the Free State batteries--inscribed "Compliments of the
Season." The sarcasm (writes Mr. Pearse)
seems the more pointed because we hear that the Boers believe us to be
starving and unable to hold out much longer. We should, at any rate,
appreciate the good wishes more if they were sent in another form.
Shells, even without fuses or powder-charges, are not quite harmless;
and though these have done no damage so far, there is always a chance
that they may hit somebody when fired into the heart of a town where
people still carry on their customary occupations in spite of
bombardment.
Whatever change favourable to their hopes was believed in by the
Boers, there was none in the spirit with which soldiers and
civilians alike in the invested township faced the duties placed
upon them. Writing on New Year's Day Mr. Pearse has a timely and a
generous word for the humbler heroes of the siege:--
We have among us one little saddler for whose services there is so much
demand that he has steadily stitched away for hours together every
working day since the siege began, heedless of shells. There are
tailors, too, who have done their best to keep officers and civilians
clothed, not even quitting their benches when shrapnels burst near them,
and I know of at least one poor seamstress who, by working night and
day, has earned enough to buy something more than bare rations even at
famine prices. Cynics do not look for heroes or heroines among such as
these. They toil for gain, that is all. But they have stuck to their
notion of duty in the midst of danger, and no soldier could have done
more. Not all the shells fired into town on New Year's Day were
harmless, however. One from Bulwaan burst near Captain Vallentin's
house, which has been a favourite since Colonel Rhodes took up his
quarters there, and at last one hit just over the front door. It smashed
the drawing-room wall, passed thence to the kitchen, and mortally
wounded a soldier servant, whose last words to his master were, "I hope
you've had your breakfast, sir!"
Up to this time the subject of food supply, though it had long
seriously occupied the attention of the authorities, had not
gravely added to the anxieties of the siege. Under the date of 1st
January Mr. Pearse has the following entry:--
Colonel Ward tells me that rations are holding out well. Neither
soldiers nor civilians, who number altogether over 20,000, have suffered
privations yet, and, thanks to Colonel Stoneman's admirable system of
distribution, something more than beef, bread, and groceries can still
be issued to those who are too weak to be nourished by rough campaigning
fare.
Forage for horses was, however, getting very scarce, and the poor
beasts suffered greatly.
Four hundred men, including natives, are sent out every day to cut grass
on the hillsides that are least exposed to Boer rifle fire, and they
manage to bring in about 32,000 lbs. daily, but this does not go far
among all the cavalry horses, transport animals, and cattle. Many must
be left to pick up their own food by grazing under guard. The old
troop-horses, however, break away from their allotted pasturages when
feeding-time comes. Perhaps their quick ears catch the familiar bugle
call to stables sounding afar off. At all events, neither knee-halters
nor other devices are of any avail. They get back to the old lines
somehow at feeding-time, and it is pitiful to see them standing
patiently, in a row, waiting for the corn or chaff that is not for them,
trying by a soft whinny to coax a little out of the hands of soldiers
who pass them, or sidling up to an old stable chum who is better fed
because better fit for work, in the hope of getting a share of his
forage for the sake of auld lang syne. Those who know how the cavalry
soldier loves a horse that has carried him well will not need to be told
how hard Tommy found it to resist the appeal of a dumb comrade in
distress; and who shall blame him if he shortened by just a handful or
so the allowance for horses that are rationed on a special scale rather
than turn a half-starved outcast empty away? But sentiment is a mistake
when kindness can do no more than prolong misery. There is no horse
sickness yet in the epidemic form. They simply pine for want of
nourishment until, too weak even to nibble the grass about them, they
drop and die. Some day we may have a use for them before things come to
that extremity, but at present the difficulty is to dispose of their
carcases. Sanitary considerations forbid that they shall be buried in
town or near camp. The enemy shells working parties, who begin to dig
pits on the open plain, and so an incinerating furnace has been built
for the cremation of horses.
[Illustration: SIEGE OF LADYSMITH, AFTER TWO MONTHS OF BOMBARDMENT]
In the early days of the year the Boer batteries became much more
active. We shall see that they were preparing for a climax, which,
however, by the splendid bravery and determination of the garrison,
was to be turned into one of disaster for the enemy rather than for
the defenders. We are now within three days of the hottest ordeal
Sir George White and his gallant army had to pass through.
Happenings in the short interval are thus described in Mr. Pearse's
notes:--
_January 3._--For two days the Boer fire from Bulwaan has been directed
mainly at the Town Hall or buildings near it, with occasional diversions
towards the Intelligence Offices on one side, or the Indian Ordnance
Laager on the other. Within these limits of deviation are the busiest
parts of Ladysmith, bakeries for the supply of all who are invested,
depots at which civilians assemble to draw their daily rations beside
the Market Square, where lank-sided dogs snarl over refuse, and such
stores as have still something to sell that has not been requisitioned
for military uses. The Royal Hotel seems to be a mark once more. Several
shells have come near hitting it to-day, and not twenty yards from the
room in which I am making these notes a shrapnel has just burst through
the wall of a stable. One horse standing there seems to be badly
wounded, but curiously enough hardly shows any signs of terror, though
the explosion close to him must have sounded terrific, and he was half
blinded by dust mingled with fumes of melinite. The fact that Boers use
high explosives for bursting charges has been questioned, but this
shrapnel, and others I have seen burst at close quarters, undoubtedly
contained melinite or some similar villainous compound, to which our own
lyddite is near akin. A little later two ladies were driving down the
main street when a shell burst just in front of their trap. The pony
swerved as if to bolt, but his driver pulled him up with a steady hand
and soothed him without a tremor in her voice. At the next corner, fully
exposed to Bulwaan's battery, these ladies stopped, waiting to watch the
effect of another shot.
It must not be thought that our own guns, though seldom mentioned, are
idle all this while. They do not waste ammunition, for a very good
reason, but wait their opportunity for effective reply to the enemy's
batteries, and when a naval 12-pounder or the "Lady Anne" comes into
action the Boer fire is apt to be hurried and wildly inaccurate if it
does not cease for a time. The Boers have however mounted a new gun near
Pepworth's, which sends "sneakers" into town and about Mount Hill with
irritating persistency, and its smokeless powder makes a flash so small
that the exact position cannot be located.
_January 5._--Days in succession pass unbroken by any incidents
dissimilar to the routine which in the very constancy of danger becomes
monotonous. Yesterday and to-day are so much alike that one hardly
remembers which was which unless some personal adventure or a friend's
narrow escape makes a nick in the calendar. Yesterday, for instance, one
of several shells bursting about the same spot shattered the water tanks
behind a chemist's shop, and its splinters came in curious curves over
the housetops, one grazing an officer of the Imperial Light Horse, to
whom I was at that moment talking. The next shell was into the police
camp, where it burst with destructive force, completely wrecking Colonel
Dartnell's tent with all its contents, but injuring nobody. Had that
genial and most popular officer followed the almost invariable practice
of his everyday life, there would have been an end of the man to whom
more than to anybody else we owe the timely retirement from Dundee. He
it was who told General Yule, "You must go to-night or you will not be
able to go at all," and whose advice, being acted upon, brought back
several thousand men to strengthen the garrison of Ladysmith just before
its investment. The loss of such a man would have been irreparable, for
he knows more than any other officer in this country about Boers and
their methods of fighting, and he has every thread of information at
command if he were allowed to use native scouts in his own way. He would
have made the best possible chief of an Intelligence Staff, but
unfortunately military etiquette or jealousy bars his employment in that
capacity. If his advice is asked for he gives it readily as at Dundee,
and though he has no authority to act in the way that would be most
congenial to his fearless and active nature, he is as ready as ever to
render a service when wanted. Some of us know too how much civilians
have been encouraged in their endurance of a long siege by Colonel
Dartnell's cheery example. Nothing disheartens him. He is always the
same whether the day's news be good or bad, and perhaps his
unostentatious services will be adequately recognised in the end. If
they had been taken advantage of in the beginning there would be fewer
blunders to regret.
To-day Colonel Stoneman had more than one narrow escape. Two shells
burst within splinter range of the office in which he and his assistants
have worked steadily at supply details since the bombardment began. A
third passed through the roof over that office after a ricochet, and
then, without bursting, rolled to the ground in front of a stoup where
several Army Service officers were sitting. That shell will be cherished
after extraction of its fuse and melinite charge. Fire from other Boer
guns proved more disastrous. Surprise Hill's howitzer threw one shell to
the little encampment behind Range Point, where it killed one man and
wounded four of the unfortunate Royal Irish Fusiliers.
But the time seems now ripe for larger events. On the following day
the Boers made their supreme attempt upon the defences of the town.
Their best and their bravest were pitted against the siege-worn
British soldier; but though they gained all the advantage of a
night surprise, though their fierce energy placed them at this
point and that several times within an inch of victory, they were
hurled back by a foeman whose determination was greater than their
own, and whose courage and spirit of self-sacrifice rose superior.