FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE BOER WAR TO THE BATTLE OF MODDER RIVER
(1899)
“She stands alone: ally nor friend has she,”
Saith Europe of our England—her who bore
Drake, Blake, and Nelson—Warrior-Queen who wore
Light’s conquering glaive that strikes the conquered free.
Alone?—From Canada comes o’er the sea,
And from that English coast with coral shore,
The old-world cry Europe hath heard of yore
From Dover cliffs: “Ready, aye ready we!”
“Europe,” saith England, “hath forgot my boys!—
Forgot how tall, in yonder golden zone
‘Neath Austral skies, my youngest born have grown
(Bearers of bayonets now and swords for toys)—
Forgot ‘mid boltless thunder—harmless noise—
The sons with whom old England ‘stands alone’!”
THEODORE WATTS-DUNTON.
In an earlier chapter we have seen how the humiliating defeat of Majuba
left the Boers in possession of the Transvaal. Since that event many
things had happened. The discovery of gold had brought great numbers of
people into the Boer territories; the rivalry between the Britisher and
the Dutchman grew fiercer and fiercer year by year, till eventually
there was this curious situation—that a comparatively small body of
Boers ruled with the utmost severity, and taxed with the greatest
heaviness a very large population of Englishmen. The Government at
Pretoria was as corrupt as a South American Republic; it was determined
to embarrass in every way the newcomers who came under its authority,
and this constant friction was one of the main causes that were to bring
about one of the most critical, most costly, and most humiliating wars
in which we have ever taken part.
The troubles of the Uitlanders, as they were called, reached a head when
Dr. Jameson, supported by a few hundred men, crossed the Transvaal
border on December 29, 1895. It will probably never be known how wide
was the conspiracy which inspired this futile raid, but we find it
difficult to believe that so small a body of men could have hoped to
achieve anything by themselves. In all likelihood the scheme was
premature, at any rate Dr. Jameson and his men were rounded up and
forced to surrender. The British Government was not in a position to
defend Jameson, while Kruger threatened that if the Uitlanders, who, of
course, were sympathetic with the raid, rose in rebellion, he would not
hesitate to shoot their leader. Instead of doing the Boer Government any
damage, the unfortunate Uitlanders had played into Kruger’s hands. It
was impossible to deny that he had been attacked in an unwarrantable and
illegal fashion, but when he acted with apparent leniency he was merely
playing a cunning part. He stated—and it sounded quite reasonable under
the circumstances—that it would be impossible to give the Uitlanders the
vote after such a conspiracy had been on foot.
The raid made things awkward all round. For some time England had learnt
with anxiety that arms were being freely imported into the Transvaal.
After the raid it was impossible to make any expostulation, and from now
onwards until the war the Uitlanders—like the Israelites of old—groaned
under Kruger. Their plight was indeed a very hapless one. They had
attempted by great patience and industry, and without protesting unduly
when the Boers grew rich upon their labours, to win some legal
recognition, and had failed. They had then planned for a rising with a
view to winning their own freedom by their own arms. This, too, had
failed. Finally, they had so embarrassed the mother-country that she
could do nothing to help them. At last they decided that they would
openly petition the Queen, and in a moment the whole quarrel was lifted
from Pretoria to the throne of England. A conference took place between
Sir Alfred Milner and President Kruger at Bloemfontein on May 30, 1899.
It is doubtful whether the Boer President desired that any agreement
should be come to; it is more probable that he was playing for time—at
any rate no conclusion was reached, and later on Sir Alfred Milner
brought it home, perhaps for the first time, to England that she must
take action. “The case for intervention,” he said, “is overwhelming, the
only attempted answer is that things will right themselves if left
alone. But, in fact, the policy of leaving things alone has been tried
for years, and it has led to their going from bad to worse. It is not
true that this is owing to the raid. They were going from bad to worse
before the raid. We were on the verge of war before the raid, and the
Transvaal was on the verge of revolution....”[9]
Still, the British Government struggled to maintain peace, and to come
to some amicable arrangement. But the Boers, like the Amir of
Afghanistan, did not believe England would ever face trouble. They were
also contemptuous of the British soldier.
To-day, when the long conspiracy of Prussia is admitted by the most
unsuspicious person, it can be recalled that, without question, the Boer
Government was in touch with Germany, and that not only cases of rifles
passed into Pretoria and Johannesburg, but that Krupp guns, outranging
our own artillery, were shortly to create the first of many surprises in
that surprising war. The sympathies of Europe were entirely with the
Boers, and, doubtless, Kruger had been advised from Berlin. Many Germans
took part in the campaign, and it was in certain measure to their expert
knowledge that the Boer artillery was so well manned. Beyond that the
Boers could fully hold their own. Botha, Joubert, and De Wet were in
their several capacities brilliant strategists and resourceful leaders.
The burghers were well armed, well mounted, exceedingly courageous, and
inspired by the deepest hatred for the British. The British, on the
other hand, were very ignorant regarding the Boer, greatly
under-estimated the numbers they could put in the field, had no expert
knowledge regarding the country or manner of the fighting there, and
could not persuade themselves that this was anything but a kind of
punitive expedition. By this time, with so many campaigns behind us,
some judgment can be formed upon the British Army, not only the Highland
regiments with whom we have dealt in particular, but those English Line
regiments and cavalry, whose prestige and courage have won a hundred
victories. Yet were these to suffer amazing disasters in South Africa.
The war was indeed to prove the graveyard of many hopes and many
reputations. Looking back at it now, after the interval of many years,
and when the greatest war has shown that the British Army is as
invincible as ever it was, we can only come to the conclusion that the
generalship in South Africa had for a season fallen altogether into
decay. The days of the Crimea and the Mutiny were long past; Roberts and
Wolseley were old men; Kitchener, the most competent organiser of the
younger generation, was still engaged with his great work in Egypt,
while a kind of dry-rot seems to have come over the generation that lay
between. The ultimate good of the South African War was that it cut this
dry-rot clean away; but the story of the war is one of great courage and
endurance struggling against the grossest incompetence.
The Boer Government kept the negotiations running until the falling of
the rain. With the rain the grass sprouted, the veldt was no longer like
a desert, and the days for campaigning were nigh. For many months Kruger
had been preparing for the conflict, while the British Government were
so deep in the political negotiations that they thought of nothing else.
The Boers could place 50,000 burghers, together with their heavy
artillery, in the field, while the British forces in South Africa were a
mere handful. Troops were despatched from India, including the 2nd
Gordon Highlanders, and these arrived at the end of September, bringing
the number of the British army in South Africa to 22,000.
On October 9, 1899, President Kruger issued his ultimatum, and within
forty-eight hours the Boer War had commenced. On October 12 the Boer
forces were on the march, 12,000 of them, with two batteries of eight
Krupp guns each, setting out from the north. From the Transvaal came
another commando accompanied by a number of Germans, armed with heavy
guns, and led by Joubert.
The British forces under the command of Sir George White and General
Penn Symons were concentrated at Ladysmith. This position was not a
strong one, and should really have been vacated, but it was quite
unsuspected that the Boer artillery was as powerful as to include 6-inch
Creusot guns. To Ladysmith came the Gordon Highlanders, who eventually
were to undergo the famous siege under their old officer. Some 4000
Britishers there were to meet the advancing Boers, who came “winding in
and out between the hills as far as eye could reach, the long black
string of horsemen stretched like an enormous serpent, with head and
tail lost in space.” In this manner the Boers entered Natal, and on the
12th of October came into touch with the British under General Penn
Symons. General Symons was a man of the greatest courage, and with the
utmost confidence and pride in his men. He awaited the arrival of the
Boers at Talana Hill, where, with the breaking of the dawn the black
figures of the enemy were first seen against the sky-line, and the
opening action of the long war commenced.
It was evident at once that the Boer artillery would make our position
untenable, and while our guns were endeavouring to gain a mastery over
those of the enemy, the infantry were sent up the front of the hill
under a very severe fire. General Symons was one of the first to fall.
To the last he encouraged his men, and throughout he had refused to take
the smallest care for his own safety.
This first conflict, which does not really concern us in this book, was
of no strategic value, and resulted in a heavy loss of men, though it
was in a sense a success, since the Boers were driven back from Talana
Hill. But it was the first indication that in a country like South
Africa the storming of one hill in a land of hills without any definite
strategic gain is simply bad generalship.
In the meantime, General French, already recognised as our most
brilliant cavalry leader, had set out towards Elandslaagte. Coming to
the conclusion that the numbers of the enemy were too strong, he
communicated with Ladysmith that he must have reinforcements. In a very
short time the Devons, the Lancers, with the Gordons and some artillery
united with his forces, and advanced towards the Boer position upon a
group of hills overlooking Elandslaagte station. The artillery opened
the engagement, and succeeded in silencing the enemy’s guns. The Boers,
whose memories were fresh with the strange spectacle of an untrenched
foe at Majuba, also received a surprise in this war, so full of
surprises. To their great dissatisfaction the Manchesters and the
Gordons, dressed in undistinguishable khaki, advanced under cover, the
only colour visible being the kilt of the Gordons, which they had
refused to discard.
The Boer guns, worked by Colonel Schiel, a German, with eighty German
gunners under him, opened fire with practised skill and accuracy. The
Boer Mausers picked off the advancing British infantry, wounding,
amongst others, the Colonel of the Gordons. Suddenly a storm burst over
the conflict, a deluge of rain beat upon the faces of the advancing
troops, the whistle of bullets sang in their ears, and men were falling
rapidly. Having lost their Colonel, the Gordons hesitated when within
charging distance of the enemy. At that, Captain Meiklejohn—who was to
end his life so heroically in Hyde Park—rushed to the front, calling
upon the Highlanders to follow him. For this action Meiklejohn lost one
arm, but received the Victoria Cross. The victory was as good as won.
“Dark figures sprang up from the rocks in front. Some held up their
rifles in token of surrender. Some ran with heads sunk between their
shoulders, jumping and ducking among the rocks. The panting, breathless
climbers were on the edge of the plateau. There were the two guns which
had flashed so brightly, silenced now, with a litter of dead gunners
around them, and one wounded officer standing by a trail. It was the
famous Schiel, the German artillerist. A small body of the Boers still
resisted. Their appearance horrified some of our men. ‘They were dressed
in black frock-coats, and looked like a lot of rather seedy business
men,’ said a spectator. ‘It seemed like murder to kill them.’ Some
surrendered, and some fought to the death where they stood.”[10]
Hardly had the ridge been taken and the Highlanders had flung themselves
down, utterly exhausted, from the long advance and the final charge with
the bayonet, when a number of Boers rushed from a place of concealment
and opened fire upon the Gordons. It was a moment of dire peril. Men
dropped on every side, and things were instantly critical, when
Sergeant-Major Robertson rallied the battalion and carried the Boer
position, winning the Victoria Cross for his gallantry.
Next day the Gordons returned to Ladysmith, where they were to
experience a four months’ siege.
Things moved quickly after this. On October 30 was the battle of
Nicholson’s Nek; on November 2 the last train left Ladysmith. Leaving
for a while the battalion of the Gordons to take their part in the
defence of Ladysmith, we will follow the Highland Brigade in their
advance upon Kimberley.
The opening of the war caused the greatest gratification to all
well-wishers of the enemy and a certain amount of despondency at home.
On the Continent there was the wildest delight that the Boer army was
carrying everything before them. Few nations, apart from America, Italy,
Denmark, and Greece, were able to conceal their elation that at last
England was likely to pass through her hour of bitter humiliation. After
a fortnight, in which five actions had taken place, we had lost a
quarter of Natal, a great stretch of railway, and saw our troops
besieged or on the eve of being besieged in Ladysmith, Kimberley, and
Mafeking. The situation could not be regarded as anything but critical.
At the same time reinforcements were being hurried out, and should these
various positions resist the Boer attacks there was no reason to suppose
that the ultimate victory was far off. On November 12 Lord Methuen had
reached the Orange River, and, accompanied by a well-equipped
force—though not a large one in number—he set out towards Kimberley,
where he found the Boers in possession of Belmont. The first action has
been described by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle as “an Alma on a small scale.”
The British troops took the hill by storm, driving the enemy from their
position at the point of the bayonet. But the unfortunate culmination to
the majority of these early actions was that the Boers bolted to their
ponies and galloped away, and owing to our lack of cavalry it was never
possible to turn a retreat into a rout. Lord Methuen repeated this
success two days later at Graspan, and on the 28th fought the battle of
Modder River, in which the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders arrived in
time to take a part. Having driven the Boer before him on two occasions
within four days, Lord Methuen was under the impression that the farmers
had lost heart and would no longer put up a formidable resistance.
On the 28th began the advance on Modder River, upon whose banks General
Cronje was entrenched. Cronje was a man of considerable strength of
character, a skilful general after the Boer tactics, trusted implicitly
by his men, and in command of a strong and formidable commando. So far
the British had met the enemy entirely in hill country; it had become a
kind of dream amongst the British soldiers that if they could only catch
the Boer in a plain the effect of discipline and bravery would teach the
enemy a severe lesson. There was a certain amount of truth in this
belief, and when the Boers did eventually come in sharp contact with the
Lancers it was a bitter enough experience for them.
Unhappily no precautions appear to have been taken to ascertain either
the strength of the enemy’s position or the best mode of attack. For
some reason or another, probably owing to an under-estimation of
Cronje’s position, the men were not even permitted to breakfast before
the march began, and so on a beautiful morning they set out towards the
undulating plain that lay upon the other side of the river.
Cronje had laid his plans with the utmost care and assurance, placing
his men on both sides of the river, entrenching them upon the sloping
ground, and concealing his artillery. The question has been raised—and
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle raised it again—Why the river should have been
crossed at that particular point; also why the British forces should
have been led over an open plain without any attempt at reconnaissance?
Such problems as these, however, might be multiplied to little purpose
throughout the earlier part of the South African campaign. Perhaps the
briefest answer to them would be that it was just because of such
incidents as these that the country was eventually to plead with its
oldest soldier to take over the command. Now that we have tested the
lessons that South Africa taught us, the humiliation has passed into
thankfulness that they came in time.
Cronje simply waited until the British were within range of his fire,
and then very suddenly opened a tornado of bullet and shell fire at a
range of seven hundred and fifty yards. One moment, and in front of them
had lain an apparently peaceful landscape, a few houses and farms
sleeping under the morning sun; the next, and the whole horizon was
blazing with death. It was fatal to advance; the cavalry could do
nothing, while the infantry were dependent upon the guns to gain the
superiority. At this critical moment one of the most dramatic incidents
in the war occurred. Out of the unknown, with staggering horses and guns
caked with mud, lumbered up the 62nd Field Battery, which had covered
thirty-two miles in less than twenty-four hours. It was a providential
piece of good fortune.
Throughout the long day the infantry lay under the broiling sun, just as
the remnants of the Highland Brigade were to endure it not very long
after. The artillery engagement wore on, the heat passed, and as night
came the British were gaining the advantage. All day they had been
without food. At last, in the late afternoon, the North Lancashires
managed to get across the river and take up a position on the extreme
left, where they were joined by the Coldstreams and the Argyll and
Sutherlands. The action was turning against the Boers. With this
desperate little force on their flank, and the artillery shattering
their guns on the front, they took advantage of the night to evacuate
their trenches and retreat. It had indeed been a costly action, and
might have been a humiliating defeat. What perhaps it was more than
anything else was a proof of British bravery under the most dismal
conditions.
Lord Methuen remained upon the Modder River until he was joined by the
Highland Brigade, composed of the 2nd Seaforths, the Highland Light
Infantry, the 1st Gordons fresh from Dargai, and the 2nd Black Watch,
with whom was Major-General Andrew Wauchope. Wauchope had seen service
in the Soudan, and was one of the best-beloved officers in the history
of the Highland regiments.
A spectator has written: “Watching the arrival of the Highland Brigade,
very magnificent they looked as they swung into camp, pipers strutting
before them, kilts swish-swishing, all in perfect order and perfect
step—the finest troops in the world.”
The Boers, having fallen back from the Modder River, halted at
Magersfontein, a circle of hills which Cronje endeavoured—with what
success we shall see—to render impregnable. It was the next step towards
Kimberley, and on Saturday, December 9, Lord Methuen despatched one of
the most critical and forlorn expeditions in our history, and the most
tragic in the story of the Highland regiments.
Footnote 9:
See _The Great Boer War_, p. 48.
Footnote 10:
_The Great Boer War_, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.