HUSSAR HILL
[Illustration: Map of the Operations of the Natal Field Army
from January 11 to February 9.]
General Buller's Headquarters: February 15, 1900.
When Sir Redvers Buller broke off the combat of Vaal Krantz, and for the
third time ordered his unbeaten troops to retreat, it was clearly
understood that another attempt to penetrate the Boer lines was to be
made without delay.
The army has moved from Spearman's and Springfield to Chieveley, General
Lyttelton, who had succeeded Sir Francis Clery, in command of the 2nd
Division and 4th Brigade, marching via Pretorius's Farm on the 9th and
10th, Sir Charles Warren covering the withdrawal of the supplies and
transport and following on the 10th and 11th. The regular Cavalry
Brigade, under Burn-Murdoch, was left with two battalions to hold the
bridge at Springfield, beyond which place the Boers, who had crossed the
Tugela in some strength at Potgieter's, were reported to be showing
considerable activity. The left flank of the marching Infantry columns
was covered by Dundonald's Brigade of Light Horse, and the operations
were performed without interruption from the enemy. On the 12th orders
were issued to reconnoitre Hussar Hill, a grassy and wooded eminence
four miles to the east of Chieveley, and the direction of the next
attack was revealed. The reader of the accounts of this war is probably
familiar with the Colenso position and understands its great strength.
The proper left of this position rests on the rocky, scrub-covered hill
of Hlangwani, which rises on the British side of the Tugela. If this
hill can be captured and artillery placed on it, and if it can be
secured from cross fire, then all the trenches of Fort Wylie and along
the river bank will be completely enfiladed, and the Colenso position
will become untenable, so that Hlangwani is the key of the Colenso
position. In order, however, to guard this key carefully the Boers have
extended their left--as at Trichardt's Drift they extended their
right--until it occupies a very lofty range of mountains four or five
miles to the east of Hlangwani, and along all this front works have been
constructed on a judicious system of defence. The long delays have given
ample time to the enemy to complete his fortifications, and the trenches
here are more like forts than field works, being provided with overhead
cover against shells and carefully made loopholes. In front of them
stretches a bare slope, on either side rise formidable hills from which
long-range guns can make a continual cross-fire. Behind this position,
again, are others of great strength.
But there are also encouraging considerations. We are to make--at least
in spite of disappointments we hope and believe we are to make--a
supreme effort to relieve Ladysmith. At the same time we are the army
for the defence of South Natal. If we had put the matter to the test at
Potgieter's and failed, our line of communications might have been cut
behind us, and the whole army, weakened by the inevitable heavy losses
of attacking these great positions, might have been captured or
dispersed. Here we have the railway behind us. We are not as we were at
Potgieter's 'formed to a flank.' We derive an accession of strength from
the fact that the troops holding Railhead are now available for the
general action.
Besides these inducements this road is the shortest way. Buller,
therefore, has elected to lose his men and risk defeat--without which
risk no victory can be won---on this line. Whether he will succeed or
not were foolish to prophesy, but it is the common belief that this line
offers as good a chance as any other and that at last the army will be
given a fair run, and permitted to begin a general engagement and fight
it out to the end. If Buller goes in and wins he will have accomplished
a wonderful feat of arms, and will gain the lasting honour and gratitude
of his country. If he is beaten he will deserve the respect and sympathy
of all true soldiers as a man who has tried to the best of his ability
to perform a task for which his resources were inadequate. I hasten to
return to the chronicle. Hussar Hill--so-called because a small post of
the 13th Hussars was surprised on it six weeks ago and lost two men
killed--is the high ground opposite Hlangwani and the mountainous ridges
called Monte Cristo and Cingolo, on which the Artillery must be posted
to prepare the attack. Hence the reconnaissance of the 12th.
At eight o'clock--we never get up early in this war--Lord Dundonald
started from the cavalry camp near Stuart's Farm with the South African
Light Horse, the Composite Regiment, Thorneycroft's Mounted Infantry,
the Colt Battery, one battalion of Infantry, the Royal Welsh Fusiliers,
and a battery of Field Artillery. The Irregular Horse were familiar with
the ground, and we soon occupied Hussar Hill, driving back a small Boer
patrol which was watching it, and wounding two of the enemy. A strong
picket line was thrown out all round the captured ground and a dropping
musketry fire began at long range with the Boers, who lay hidden in the
surrounding dongas. At noon Sir Redvers Buller arrived, and made a
prolonged reconnaissance of the ground with his telescope. At one
o'clock we were ordered to withdraw, and the difficult task of
extricating the advanced pickets from close contact with the enemy was
performed under a sharp fire, fortunately without the loss of a man.
After you leave Hussar Hill on the way back to Chieveley camp it is
necessary to cross a wide dip of ground. We had withdrawn several miles
in careful rearguard fashion, the guns and the battalion had gone back,
and the last two squadrons were walking across this dip towards the
ridge on the homeward side. Perhaps we had not curled in our tail quite
quick enough, or perhaps the enemy has grown more enterprising of late,
in any case just as we were reaching the ridge a single shot was fired
from Hussar Hill, and then without more ado a loud crackle of musketry
burst forth. The distance was nearly two thousand yards, but the
squadrons in close formation were a good target. Everybody walked for
about twenty yards, and then without the necessity of an order broke
into a brisk canter, opening the ranks to a dispersed formation at the
same time. It was very dry weather, and the bullets striking between the
horsemen raised large spurts of dust, so that it seemed that many men
must surely be hit. Moreover, the fire had swelled to a menacing roar. I
chanced to be riding with Colonel Byng in rear, and looking round saw
that we had good luck. For though bullets fell among the troopers quite
thickly enough, the ground two hundred yards further back was all alive
with jumping dust. The Boers were shooting short.
We reached the ridge and cover in a minute, and it was very pretty to
see these irregular soldiers stop their horses and dismount with their
carbines at once without any hesitation. Along the ridge Captain Hill's
Colt Battery was drawn up in line, and as soon as the front was clear
the four little pink guns began spluttering furiously. The whole of the
South African Light Horse dismounted and, lining the ridge, opened fire
with their rifles. Thorneycroft's Mounted Infantry came into line on
our left flank, and brought two tripod Maxims into action with them.
Lord Dundonald sent back word to the battery to halt and fire over our
heads, and Major Gough's Regiment and the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, who had
almost reached cover, turned round of their own accord and hurried
eagerly in the direction of the firing, which had become very loud on
both sides.
There now ensued a strange little skirmish, which would have been a
bloody rifle duel but for the great distance which separated the
combatants and for the cleverness with which friends and foes concealed
and sheltered themselves. Not less than four hundred men on either side
were firing as fast as modern rifles will allow. Between us stretched
the smooth green dip of ground. Beyond there rose the sharper outlines
of Hussar Hill, two or three sheds, and a few trees. That was where the
Boers were. But they were quite invisible to the naked eye, and no smoke
betrayed their positions. With a telescope they could be seen--a long
row of heads above the grass. We were equally hidden. Still their
bullets--a proportion of their bullets--found us, and I earnestly trust
that some of ours found them. Indeed there was a very hot fire, in spite
of the range. Yet no one was hit. Ah, yes, there was one, a tall trooper
turned sharply on his side, and two of his comrades carried him quickly
back behind a little house, shot through the thigh. A little further
along the firing line another was being helped to the rear. The Colt
Battery drew the cream of the fire, and Mr. Garrett, one of the experts
sent out by the firm, was shot through the ankle, but he continued to
work his gun. Captain Hill walked up and down his battery exposing
himself with great delight, and showing that he was a very worthy
representative of an Irish constituency.
I happened to pass along the line on some duty or other when I noticed
my younger brother, whose keen desire to take some part in the public
quarrel had led me, in spite of misgivings, to procure him a
lieutenancy, lying on the ground, with his troop. As I approached I saw
him start in the quick, peculiar manner of a stricken man. I asked him
at once whether he was hurt, and he said something--he thought it must
be a bullet--had hit him on the gaiter and numbed his leg. He was quite
sure it had not gone in, but when we had carried him away we found--as I
expected--that he was shot through the leg. The wound was not serious,
but the doctors declared he would be a month in hospital. It was his
baptism of fire, and I have since wondered at the strange caprice which
strikes down one man in his first skirmish and protects another time
after time. But I suppose all pitchers will get broken in the end.
Outwardly I sympathised with my brother in his misfortune, which he
mourned bitterly, since it prevented him taking part in the impending
battle, but secretly I confess myself well content that this young
gentleman should be honourably out of harm's way for a month.
It was neither our business nor our pleasure to remain and continue this
long-range duel with the Boers. Our work for the day was over, and all
were anxious to get home to luncheon. Accordingly, as soon as the
battery had come into action to cover our withdrawal we commenced
withdrawing squadron by squadron and finally broke off the engagement,
for the Boers were not inclined to follow further. At about three
o'clock our loss in this interesting affair was one officer, Lieutenant
John Churchill, and seven men of the South African Light Horse wounded
and a few horses. Thorneycroft's Mounted Infantry also had two
casualties, and there were two more in the Colt detachments. The Boers
were throughout invisible, but two days later when the ground was
revisited we found one dead burgher--so that at any rate they lost more
heavily than we. The Colt guns worked very well, and the effect of the
fire of a whole battery of these weapons was a marked diminution in the
enemy's musketry. They were mounted on the light carriages patented by
Lord Dundonald, and the advantage of these in enabling the guns to be
run back by hand, so as to avoid exposing the horses, was very obvious.
I shall leave the great operation which, as I write, has already begun,
to another letter, but since gaiety has its value in these troublous
times let the reader pay attention to the story of General Hart and the
third-class shot. Major-General Hart, who commands the Irish Brigade, is
a man of intrepid personal courage--indeed, to his complete contempt for
danger the heavy losses among his battalions, and particularly in the
Dublin Fusiliers, must be to some extent attributed. After Colenso there
were bitter things said on this account. But the reckless courage of the
General was so remarkable in subsequent actions that, being brave men
themselves, they forgave him everything for the sake of his daring.
During the first day at Spion Kop General Hart discovered a soldier
sitting safely behind a rock and a long way behind the firing line.
'Good afternoon, my man,' he said in his most nervous, apologetic voice;
'what are you doing here?'
'Sir,' replied the soldier, 'an officer told me to stop here, sir.'
'Oh! Why?'
'I'm a third-class shot, sir.'
'Dear me,' said the General after some reflection, 'that's an awful
pity, because you see you'll have to get quite close to the Boers to do
any good. Come along with me and I'll find you a nice place,' and a
mournful procession trailed off towards the most advanced
skirmishers.[3]
FOOTNOTES:
[3] The map at the end of Chapter XXV. illustrates this and succeeding
chapters.