AFTER THE SIEGE
Durban: March 10, 1900.
Since the road by which Dundonald's squadrons had entered the town was
never again closed by the enemy, the siege of Ladysmith may be said to
have ended on the last day of February. During the night the heavy guns
fired at intervals, using up the carefully husbanded ammunition in order
to prevent the Boers from removing their artillery.
On March 1 the garrison reverted to a full half-ration of biscuits and
horseflesh, and an attempt was made to harass the Boers, who were in
full retreat towards the Biggarsberg. Sir George White had made careful
inquiries among the regiments for men who would undertake to walk five
miles and fight at the end of the march. But so reduced were the
soldiers through want of food that, though many volunteered, only two
thousand men were considered fit out of the whole garrison. These were,
however, formed into a column, under Colonel Knox, consisting of two
batteries of artillery, two squadrons of the 19th Hussars and 5th
Lancers, 'all that was left of them,' with horses, and detachments, each
about two hundred and fifty strong, from the Manchester, Liverpool, and
Devon Regiments, the 60th Rifles, and the Gordon Highlanders, and this
force moved out of Ladysmith at dawn on the 1st to attack the Boers on
Pepworth's Hill, in the hope of interfering with their entrainment at
Modderspruit Station.
The Dutch, however, had left a rear guard sufficient to hold in check so
small a force, and it was 2 o'clock before Pepworth's Hill was occupied.
The batteries then shelled Modderspruit Station, and very nearly caught
three crowded trains, which just managed to steam out of range in time.
The whole force of men and horses was by this time quite exhausted. The
men could scarcely carry their rifles. In the squadron of 19th Hussars
nine horses out of sixty fell down and died, and Colonel Knox therefore
ordered the withdrawal into the town.
Only about a dozen men were killed or wounded in this affair, but the
fact that the garrison was capable of making any offensive movement
after their privations is a manifest proof of their soldierly spirit and
excellent discipline.
On the same morning Sir Redvers Buller advanced on Bulwana Hill. Down
from the commanding positions which they had won by their courage and
endurance marched the incomparable infantry, and by 2 o'clock the plain
of Pieters was thickly occupied by successive lines of men in extended
order, with long columns of guns and transport trailing behind them.
Shortly before noon it was ascertained that Bulwana Hill was abandoned
by the enemy, and the army was thereon ordered to camp in the plain, no
further fighting being necessary.
The failure to pursue the retreating Boers when two fine cavalry
brigades were standing idle and eager must be noticed. It is probable
that the Boer rearguard would have been sufficiently strong to require
both infantry and guns to drive it back. It is certain that sharp
fighting must have attended the effort. Nevertheless the opinion
generally expressed was that it should have been made. My personal
impression is that Sir Redvers Buller was deeply moved by the heavy
losses the troops had suffered, and was reluctant to demand further
sacrifices from them at this time. Indeed, the price of victory had been
a high one.
In the fortnight's fighting, from February 14 to February 28, two
generals, six colonels commanding regiments, a hundred and five other
officers, and one thousand five hundred and eleven soldiers had been
killed or wounded out of an engaged force of about eighteen thousand
men; a proportion of slightly under 10 per cent.
In the whole series of operations for the relief of Ladysmith the losses
amounted to three hundred officers and more than five thousand men, out
of a total engaged force of about twenty-three thousand, a proportion
of rather more than 20 per cent. Nor had this loss been inflicted in a
single day's victorious battle, but was spread over twenty-five days of
general action in a period of ten weeks; and until the last week no
decided success had cheered the troops.
The stress of the campaign, moreover, had fallen with peculiar force on
certain regiments: the Lancashire Fusiliers sustained losses of over 35
per cent., the Inniskillings of 40 per cent., and the Dublin Fusiliers
of over 60 per cent. It was very remarkable that the fighting efficiency
of these regiments was in no way impaired by such serious reductions.
The casualties among the officers maintained their usual glorious
disproportion, six or seven regiments in the army having less than eight
officers left alive and unwounded. Among the cavalry the heaviest losses
occurred in Dundonald's Brigade, the South African Light Horse,
Thorneycroft's Mounted Infantry, and the squadron of Imperial Light
Horse, each losing a little less than a quarter of their strength.
The ceaseless marching and fighting had worn out the clothes and boots
of the army, and a certain number of the guns of the field artillery
were unserviceable through constant firing. The troops, besides clothes,
needed fresh meat, an exclusive diet of tinned food being unwholesome if
unduly prolonged. Sir Redvers Buller's estimate that a week's rest was
needed does not seem excessive by the light of such facts, but still one
more effort might have saved much trouble later on. On March 3 the
relieving army made its triumphal entry into Ladysmith, and passing
through the town camped on the plain beyond. The scene was solemn and
stirring, and only the most phlegmatic were able to conceal their
emotions. The streets were lined with the brave defenders, looking very
smart and clean in their best clothes, but pale, thin, and
wasp-waisted--their belts several holes tighter than was satisfactory.
Before the little Town Hall, the tower of which, sorely battered, yet
unyielding, seemed to symbolise the spirit of the garrison, Sir George
White and his staff sat on their skeleton horses. Opposite to them were
drawn up the pipers of the Gordon Highlanders. The townsfolk,
hollow-eyed but jubilant, crowded the pavement and the windows of the
houses. Everyone who could find a flag had hung it out, but we needed no
bright colours to raise our spirits.
At eleven o'clock precisely the relieving army began to march into the
town. First of all rode Sir Redvers Buller with his headquarters staff
and an escort of the Royal Dragoons. The infantry and artillery followed
by brigades, but in front of all, as a special recognition of their
devoted valour, marched the Dublin Fusiliers, few, but proud.
Many of the soldiers, remembering their emerald island, had fastened
sprigs of green to their helmets, and all marched with a swing that was
wonderful to watch. Their Colonel and their four officers looked as
happy as kings are thought to be. As the regiments passed Sir George
White, the men recognised their former general, and, disdaining the
rules of the service, waved their helmets and rifles, and cheered him
with intense enthusiasm. Some even broke from the ranks. Seeing this the
Gordon Highlanders began to cheer the Dublins, and after that the noise
of cheering was continual, every regiment as it passed giving and
receiving fresh ovations.
All through the morning and on into the afternoon the long stream of men
and guns flowed through the streets of Ladysmith, and all marvelled to
see what manner of men these were--dirty, war-worn, travel-stained,
tanned, their uniforms in tatters, their boots falling to pieces, their
helmets dinted and broken, but nevertheless magnificent soldiers,
striding along, deep-chested and broad-shouldered, with the light of
triumph in their eyes and the blood of fighting ancestors in their
veins. It was a procession of lions. And presently, when the two
battalions of Devons met--both full of honours--and old friends breaking
from the ranks gripped each other's hands and shouted, everyone was
carried away, and I waved my feathered hat, and cheered and cheered
until I could cheer no longer for joy that I had lived to see the day.
At length all was over. The last dust-brown battalion had passed away
and the roadway was again clear. Yet the ceremony was incomplete. Before
the staff could ride away the Mayor of Ladysmith advanced and requested
Sir George White to receive an address which the townspeople had
prepared and were anxious to present to him. The General dismounted from
his horse, and standing on the steps of the Town Hall, in the midst of
the inhabitants whom he had ruled so rigorously during the hard months
of the siege, listened while their Town Clerk read their earnest
grateful thanks to him for saving their town from the hands of the
enemy. The General replied briefly, complimented them on their behaviour
during the siege, thanked them for the way in which they had borne their
many hardships and submitted to the severe restrictions which the
circumstances of war had brought on them, and rejoiced with them that
they had been enabled by their devotion and by the bravery of the
soldiers to keep the Queen's flag flying over Ladysmith. And then
everybody cheered everybody else, and so, very tired and very happy, we
all went home to our belated luncheons.
Walking through the streets it was difficult to see many signs of the
bombardment. The tower of the Town Hall was smashed and chipped, several
houses showed large holes in their walls, and heaps of broken brickwork
lay here and there. But on the whole the impression produced was one of
surprise that the Boers had done so little damage with the sixteen
thousand shells they had fired during the siege.
On entering the houses, however, the effect was more apparent. In one
the floor was ripped up, in another the daylight gleamed through the
corrugated iron roof, and in some houses the inner walls had been
completely destroyed, and only heaps of rubbish lay on the floor.
The fortifications which the troops had built, though of a very strong
and effective character, were neither imposing nor conspicuous; indeed,
being composed of heaps of stone they were visible only as dark lines on
the rugged kopjes, and if the fame of the town were to depend on relics
of the war it would not long survive the siege.
But memories dwell among the tin houses and on the stony hills that will
keep the name of Ladysmith fresh and full of meaning in the hearts of
our countrymen. Every trench, every mound has its own tale to tell, some
of them sad, but not one shameful. Here and there, scattered through the
scrub by the river or on the hills of red stones almost red hot in the
sun blaze, rise the wooden crosses which mark the graves of British
soldiers. Near the iron bridge a considerable granite pyramid records
the spot where Dick Cunyngham, colonel of the Gordons--what prouder
office could a man hold?--fell mortally wounded on the 6th of January.
Another monument is being built on Waggon Hill to commemorate the brave
men of the Imperial Light Horse who lost their lives but saved the day.
The place is also marked where the noble Ava fell.
But there was one who found, to use his own words, 'a strange sideway
out of Ladysmith,' whose memory many English-speaking people will
preserve. I do not write of Steevens as a journalist, nor as the master
of a popular and pleasing style, but as a man. I knew him, though I had
met him rarely. A dinner up the Nile, a chance meeting at an Indian
junction, five days on a Mediterranean steamer, two in a Continental
express, and a long Sunday at his house near Merton--it was a scanty
acquaintance, but sufficient to be quite certain that in all the varied
circumstances and conditions to which men are subjected Steevens rang
true. Modest yet proud, wise as well as witty, cynical but above all
things sincere, he combined the characters of a charming companion and a
good comrade.
His conversation and his private letters sparkled like his books and
articles. Original expressions, just similitudes, striking phrases,
quaint or droll ideas welled in his mind without the slightest effort.
He was always at his best. I have never met a man who talked so well,
so easily. His wit was the genuine article--absolutely natural and
spontaneous.
I once heard him describe an incident in the Nile campaign, and the
description amused me so much that I was impatient to hear it again, and
when a suitable occasion offered I asked him to tell his tale to the
others. But he told it quite differently, and left me wondering which
version was the better. He could not repeat himself if he tried, whereas
most of the renowned talkers I have met will go over the old impression
with the certainty of a phonograph.
But enough of his words. He was not a soldier, but he walked into the
Atbara zareba with the leading company of the Seaforth Highlanders. He
wrote a vivid account of the attack, but there was nothing in it about
himself.
When the investment of Ladysmith shut the door on soldiers, townspeople,
and War Correspondents alike, Steevens set to work to do his share of
keeping up the good spirits of the garrison and of relieving the
monotony of the long days. Through the first three months of the siege
no local event was awaited with more interest than the publication of a
'Ladysmith Lyre,' and the weary defenders had many a good laugh at its
witticisms.
Sun, stink, and sickness harassed the beleaguered. The bombardment was
perpetual, the relief always delayed; hope again and again deferred. But
nothing daunted Steevens, depressed his courage, or curbed his wit. What
such a man is worth in gloomy days those may appreciate who have seen
the effect of public misfortunes on a modern community.
At last he was himself stricken down by enteric fever. When it seemed
that the worst was over there came a fatal relapse, and the brightest
Intellect yet sacrificed by this war perished; nor among all the
stubborn garrison of Ladysmith was there a stouter heart or a more
enduring spirit.
Dismal scenes were to be found at the hospital camp by Intombi Spruit.
Here, in a town of white tents, under the shadow of Bulwana, were
collected upwards of two thousand sick and wounded--a fifth of the
entire garrison. They were spared the shells, but exposed to all the
privations of the siege.
Officers and men, doctors and patients, presented alike a most
melancholy and even ghastly appearance. Men had been wounded, had been
cured of their wounds, and had died simply because there was no
nourishing food to restore their strength. Others had become
convalescent from fever, but had succumbed from depression and lack of
medical comforts. Hundreds required milk and brandy, but there was only
water to give them. The weak died: at one time the death rate averaged
fifteen a day. Nearly a tenth of the whole garrison died of disease. A
forest of crosses, marking the graves of six hundred men, sprang up
behind the camp.
It was a painful thing to watch the hungry patients, so haggard and worn
that their friends could scarcely recognise them; and after a visit to
Intombi I sat and gloated for an hour at the long train of waggons
filled with all kinds of necessary comforts which crawled along the
roads, and the relief of Ladysmith seemed more than ever worth the heavy
price we had paid.
On the evening after Buller's victorious army had entered the town I
went to see Sir George White, and was so fortunate as to find him alone
and disengaged. The General received me in a room the windows of which
gave a wide view of the defences. Bulwana, Caesar's Camp, Waggon Hill
lay before us, and beneath--for the house stood on high ground--spread
the blue roofs of Ladysmith. From the conversation that followed, and
from my own knowledge of events, I shall endeavour to explain so far as
is at present possible the course of the campaign in Natal; and I will
ask the reader to observe that only the remarks actually quoted should
be attributed to the various officers.
Sir George White told me how he had reached Natal less than a week
before the declaration of war. He found certain arrangements in progress
to meet a swiftly approaching emergency, and he had to choose between
upsetting all these plans and entirely reconstructing the scheme of
defence, or of accepting what was already done as the groundwork of his
operations.
Sir Penn Symons, who had been commanding in the Colony, and who was
presumably best qualified to form an opinion on the military
necessities, extravagantly underrated the Boer fighting power. Some of
his calculations of the force necessary to hold various places seem
incredible in the light of recent events. But everyone was wrong about
the Boers, and the more they knew the worse they erred. Symons laughed
at the Boer military strength, and laboured to impress his opinions on
Sir George White, who having Hamilton's South African experience to fall
back on, however, took a much more serious view of the situation, and
was particularly disturbed at the advanced position of the troops at
Dundee. He wanted to withdraw them. Symons urged the opposite
considerations vehemently. He was a man of great personal force, and his
manner carried people with him. 'Besides,' said the General, with a
kindling eye and extraordinary emphasis, 'he was a good, brave fighting
man, and you know how much that is worth in war.'
In spite of Symons's confidence and enthusiasm White hated to leave
troops at Dundee, and Sir Archibald Hunter, his chief of staff, agreed
with him. But not to occupy a place is one thing: to abandon it after it
has been occupied another.
They decided to ask Sir Walter Hely-Hutchinson what consequences would
in his opinion follow a withdrawal. They visited him at ten o'clock at
night, and put the question straightly. Thus appealed to, the Governor
declared that in that event 'loyalists' would be disgusted and
discouraged; the results as regards the Dutch would be grave, many, if
not most, would very likely rise, believing us to be afraid ... and the
effect on the natives, of whom there are some 750,000 in Natal and
Zululand, might be disastrous.'
On hearing this opinion expressed by a man of the Governor's ability and
local knowledge, Sir Archibald Hunter said that it was a question 'of
balancing drawbacks,' and advised that the troops be retained at
Glencoe. So the matter was clinched, 'and,' said Sir George, 'when I
made up my mind to let Symons stay I shared and shared alike with him in
the matter of troops, giving him three batteries, a regiment, and an
infantry brigade, and keeping the same myself.'
For his share in this discussion the Governor was at one time subjected
to a considerable volume of abuse in the public Press, it being charged
against him that he had 'interfered' with the military arrangements.
Sir Walter Hely-Hutchinson, with whom I have had many pleasant talks,
makes this invariable reply: 'I never said a word to Sir George White
until I was asked. When my opinion was called for I gave it according to
the best of my judgment.'
In the actual event Dundee had to be abandoned, nor was this a
deliberate evacuation arising out of any regular military policy, but a
swift retreat without stores or wounded, compelled by the force of the
enemy.
It is, therefore, worth while considering how far the Governor's
judgment had been vindicated by events. Undoubtedly loyalists throughout
the Colony were disgusted, and that they were not discouraged was mainly
due to the fact that with the Anglo-Saxon peoples anger at the injury
usually overcomes dismay. The effect on the Dutch was grave, but was
considerably modified by the electrical influence of the victory of
Elandslaagte, and the spectacle of Boer prisoners marching southward.
The whole of the Klip River country, however, rose, and many prominent
Natal Dutch farmers joined the enemy. The loyalty of the natives alone
exceeded the Governor's anticipations, and their belief in the British
power and preference for British rule was found to stand more knocking
about than those best able to judge expected. We have reaped a rich
reward in this dark season for having consistently pursued a kindly and
humane policy towards the Bantu races; and the Boers have paid a heavy
penalty for their cruelty and harshness.
On the subject of holding Ladysmith Sir George White was quite clear.
'I never wanted to abandon Ladysmith; I considered it a place of primary
importance to hold. It was on Ladysmith that both Republics concentrated
their first efforts. Here, where the railways join, the armies of the
Free State and the Transvaal were to unite, and the capture of the town
was to seal their union.'
It is now certain that Ladysmith was an essential to the carefully
thought out Boer plan of campaign. To make quite sure of victory they
directed twenty-five thousand of their best men on it under the
Commandant-General himself. Flushed with the spirit of invasion, they
scarcely reckoned on a fortnight's resistance; nor in their wildest
nightmares did they conceive a four months' siege terminating in the
furious inroad of a relieving army.
Exasperated at unexpected opposition--for they underrated us even more
than we underrated them--they sacrificed around Ladysmith their chances
of taking Pietermaritzburg and raiding all Natal; and it is moreover
incontestable that in their resolve to take the town, on which they had
set their hearts, they were provoked into close fighting with Sir
Redvers Buller's army, and even to make an actual assault on the
defences of Ladysmith, and so suffered far heavier losses than could
otherwise have been inflicted on so elusive an enemy in such broken
country.
'Besides,' said the General, 'I had no choice in the matter. I did not
want to leave Ladysmith, but even if I had wanted, it would have been
impossible.'
He then explained how not only the moral value, the political
significance of Ladysmith, and the great magazines accumulated there
rendered it desirable to hold the town, but that the shortness of time,
the necessity of evacuating the civil population, and of helping in the
Dundee garrison, made its retention actually obligatory.
Passing to the actual siege of the town, Sir George White said that he
had decided to make an active defence in order to keep the enemy's
attention fixed on his force, and so prevent them from invading South
Natal before the reinforcements could arrive. With that object he had
fought the action of October 30, which had turned out so disastrously.
After that he fell back on his entrenchments, and the blockade began.
'The experience we had gained of the long-range guns possessed by the
enemy,' said Sir George, 'made it necessary for me to occupy a very
large area of ground, and I had to extend my lines accordingly. My lines
are now nearly fourteen miles in circumference. If I had taken up a
smaller position we should have been pounded to death.'
He said that the fact that they had plenty of room alone enabled them to
live, for the shell fire was thus spread over a large area, and, as it
were, diluted. Besides this the cattle were enabled to find grazing, but
these extended lines were also a source of weakness. At one time on
several sections of the defences the garrison could only provide two
hundred men to the mile.
'That is scarcely the prescribed proportion. I would like to have
occupied Bulwana, in which case we should have been quite comfortable,
but I did not dare extend my lines any further. It was better to endure
the bombardment than to run the risk of being stormed. Because my lines
were so extended I was compelled to keep all the cavalry in Ladysmith.'
Until they began to eat instead of feed the horses this powerful mounted
force, upwards of three thousand strong, had been his mobile, almost his
only reserve. Used in conjunction with an elaborate system of telephones
the cavalry from their central position could powerfully reinforce any
threatened section.
The value of this was proved on January 6. The General thought that the
fierce assault delivered by the enemy on that day vindicated his policy
in not occupying Bulwana and in keeping his cavalry within the town, on
both of which points he had been much criticised.
He spoke with some bitterness of the attacks which had been made on him
in the newspapers. He had always begged that the relieving operations
should not be compromised by any hurry on his account, and he said,
with earnestness, 'It is not fair to charge me with all the loss of life
they have involved.' He concluded by saying, deliberately: 'I regret
Nicholson's Nek; perhaps I was rash then, but it was my only chance of
striking a heavy blow. I regret nothing else. It may be that I am an
obstinate man to say so, but if I had the last five months to live over
again I would not--with that exception---do otherwise than I have done.'
And then I came away and thought of the cheers of the relieving troops.
Never before had I heard soldiers cheer like that. There was not much
doubt about the verdict of the army on Sir George White's conduct of the
defence, and it is one which the nation may gracefully accept.
But I am anxious also to discuss the Ladysmith episode from Sir Redvers
Buller's point of view. This officer reached Cape Town on the very day
that White was driven back on Ladysmith. His army, which would not
arrive for several weeks, was calculated to be strong enough to overcome
the utmost resistance the Boer Republics could offer.
To what extent he was responsible for the estimates of the number of
troops necessary is not known. It is certain, however, that
everyone--Ministers, generals, colonists, and intelligence
officers--concurred in making a most remarkable miscalculation.
It reminds me of Jules Verne's story of the men who planned to shift the
axis of the earth by the discharge of a great cannon. Everything was
arranged. The calculations were exact to the most minute fraction. The
world stood aghast at the impending explosion. But the men of science,
whose figures were otherwise so accurate, had left out a nought, and
their whole plan came to nothing. So it was with the British. Their
original design of a containing division in Natal, and an invading army
of three divisions in the Free State, would have been excellent if only
they had written army corps instead of division.
Buller found himself confronted with an alarming and critical situation
in Natal. Practically the whole force which had been deemed sufficient
to protect the Colony was locked up in Ladysmith, and only a few line of
communication troops stood between the enemy and the capital or even the
seaport. Plainly, therefore, strong reinforcements--at least a
division--must be hurried to Natal without an hour's unnecessary delay.
When these troops were subtracted from the forces in the Cape Colony all
prospect of pursuing the original plan of invading the Free State was
destroyed. It was evident that the war would assume dimensions which no
one had ever contemplated.
The first thing to be done therefore was to grapple with the immediate
emergencies, and await the arrival of the necessary troops to carry on
the war on an altogether larger scale. Natal was the most acute
situation. But there were others scarcely less serious and critical. The
Cape Colony was quivering with rebellion. The Republican forces were
everywhere advancing. Kimberley and Mafeking were isolated. A small
British garrison held a dangerous position at Orange River bridge.
Nearly all the other bridges had been seized or destroyed by rebels or
invaders.
From every quarter came clamourings for troops. Soldiers were wanted
with vital need at Stormberg, at Rosmead Junction, at Colesberg, at De
Aar, but most of all they were wanted in Natal--Natal, which had been
promised protection 'with the whole force of the Empire,' and which was
already half overrun and the rest almost defenceless. So the army corps,
which was to have marched irresistibly to Bloemfontein and Pretoria, had
to be hurled into the country--each unit as it arrived--wherever the
need was greatest where all were great.
Sir Redvers Buller, thus assailed by the unforeseen and pressed on every
side, had to make up his mind quickly. He looked to Natal. It was there
that the fiercest fighting was in progress and that the strength and
vigour of the enemy was apparently most formidable. He had always
regarded the line of the Tugela as the only defensive line which British
forces would be strong enough to hold, and had recorded his opinion
against placing any troops north of that river.
In spite of this warning Ladysmith had been made a great military depot,
and had consequently come to be considered a place of primary
importance. It was again a question of balancing drawbacks. Buller
therefore telegraphed to White asking him whether he could entrench and
maintain himself pending the arrival of reinforcements. White replied
that he was prepared to make a prolonged defence of Ladysmith. To this
proposal the General-in-chief assented, observing only 'but the line of
the Tugela is very tempting.'
General Buller's plan now seems to have been briefly as follows: First,
to establish a _modus vivendi_ in the Cape Colony, with sufficient
troops to stand strictly on the defensive; secondly, to send a strong
force to Natal, and either restore the situation there, or, failing
that, extricate Sir George White so that his troops would be again
available for the defence of the Southern portion of the Colony;
thirdly, with what was left of the army corps--no longer strong enough
to invade the Free State--to relieve Kimberley; fourthly, after settling
Natal to return with such troops as could be spared and form with
reinforcements from home a fresh army to carry out the original scheme
of invading the Free State.
The defect in this plan was that there were not enough troops to carry
it out. As we had underestimated the offensive vigour which the enemy
was able to develop before the army could reach South Africa, so now we
altogether miscalculated his extraordinary strength on the defensive.
But it is impossible to see what else could have been done, and at any
rate no one appreciated the magnitude of the difficulties more correctly
than Sir Redvers Buller. He knew Northern Natal and understood the
advantages that the Boers enjoyed among its mountains and kopjes.
On one occasion he even went so far as to describe the operation he had
proposed as a 'forlorn hope,' so dark and gloomy was the situation in
South Africa during the first fortnight in November. It was stated that
the General was ordered by the War Office to go to Natal, and went there
against his own will and judgment. This, however, was not true; and when
I asked him he replied: 'It was the most difficult business of all. I
knew what it meant, and that it was doubtful whether we should get
through to Ladysmith. I had not the nerve to order a subordinate to do
it. I was the big man. I had to go myself.'
What followed, with the exception of the battle of Colenso, our first
experience of the Boer behind entrenchments, has been to some extent
described in these letters. Viewed in the light of after knowledge it
does not appear that the holding of Ladysmith was an unfortunate act.
The flower of the Boer army was occupied and exhausted in futile efforts
to take the town and stave off the relieving forces. Four precious
months were wasted by the enemy in a vain enterprise. Fierce and bloody
fighting raged for several weeks with heavy loss to both sides, but
without shame to either. In the end the British were completely
victorious. Not only did their garrison endure famine, disease, and
bombardment with constancy and composure and repel all assaults, but the
soldiers of the relief column sustained undismayed repeated
disappointments and reverses, and finally triumphed because through
thick and thin they were loyal to their commander and more stubborn even
than the stubborn Dutch.
In spite of, perhaps because of, some mistakes and many misfortunes the
defence and relief of Ladysmith will not make a bad page in British
history. Indeed it seems to me very likely that in future times our
countrymen will think that we were most fortunate to find after a
prolonged peace leaders of quality and courage, who were moreover
honourable gentlemen, to carry our military affairs through all kinds of
difficulties to a prosperous issue; and whatever may be said of the
generals it is certain that all will praise the enduring courage of the
regimental officer and the private soldier.