THE CAPTURE OF PRETORIA
Pretoria: June 8.
The Commander-in-Chief had good reasons--how good we little knew--for
wishing to push on at once to the enemy's capital, without waiting at
Johannesburg. But the fatigue of the troops and the necessities of
supply imposed a two days' halt. On the 3rd of June the advance was
resumed. The army marched in three columns. The left, thrown forward
in echelon, consisted of the Cavalry Division under French; the centre
was formed by Ian Hamilton's force; and the right or main column nearest
the railway comprised the Seventh and Eleventh Divisions (less one
brigade left to hold Johannesburg), Gordon's Cavalry Brigade, and the
Corps Troops all under the personal command of the Field-Marshal.
The long forward stride of the 3rd was, except for a small action
against French, unchecked or unopposed by the Boers, and all the
information which the Intelligence Department could collect seemed to
promise a bloodless entry into the capital. So strong was the evidence
that at dawn on the 4th of June Hamilton's column was diverted from its
prescribed line of march on Elandsfontein[#] and drawn in towards the
main army, with orders to bivouac on Pretoria Green, west of the town.
French, whom the change of orders did not reach, pursued his wide
turning movement, and encountered further opposition in a bad country
for cavalry.
[#] Yet another Elandsfontein, situated to the west of Pretoria.
At ten o'clock it was reported that Colonel Henry, with the corps of
Mounted Infantry in advance of the main column, was actually in the
suburbs of Pretoria without opposition. The force continued to
converge, and Ian Hamilton had almost joined Lord Roberts's force when
the booming of guns warned us that our anticipations were too sanguine.
The army had just crossed a difficult spruit, and Colonel Henry with the
Mounted Infantry had obtained a lodgment on the heights beyond. But here
they were sharply checked. The Boers, apparently in some force, were
holding a wooded ridge and several high hills along the general line of
the southern Pretoria forts.
Determined to hold what he had obtained, Lord Roberts thrust his
artillery well forward, and ordered Ian Hamilton to support Colonel
Henry immediately with all mounted troops. This was speedily done. The
horsemen galloped forward, and, scrambling up the steep hillsides,
reinforced the thin firing line along the ridge. The artillery of the
Seventh Division came into action in front of the British centre. The
Boers replied with a brisk rifle fire, which reached all three
batteries, and drew from them a very vigorous cannonade.
Meanwhile the Infantry deployment was proceeding. The 14th Brigade
extended for attack. Half an hour later Pole-Carew's batteries
prolonged the line of guns to the right, and about half-past two the
corps and heavy artillery opened in further prolongation. By three
o'clock fifty guns were in action in front of the main army, and both
the Seventh and Eleventh Divisions had assumed preparatory formations.
The balloon ascended and remained hanging in the air for an hour--a
storm signal.
During this time Hamilton was pushing swiftly forward, and
Smith-Dorrien's 19th Infantry Brigade occupied the line of heights, and
thus set free the mounted troops for a turning movement. The 21st
Brigade supported. The heights were so steep in front of Hamilton that
his artillery could not come into action, and only one gun and one
'pom-pom' could, by great exertion, be dragged and man-handled into
position. The fire of these pieces, however, caught the Boers holding
the weeded ridge in enfilade, and was by no means ineffective.
So soon as Hamilton had collected the mounted troops he sent them to
reinforce Broadwood, whom he directed to move round the enemy's right
flank. The ground favoured the movement, and by half-past four the
Cavalry were seen debouching into the plain beyond the Boer position,
enveloping their flank and compromising their retreat.
Colonel de Lisle's corps of Mounted Infantry, composed mainly of
Australians, made a much shorter circuit, and reaching the level ground
before the Cavalry espied a Boer Maxim retreating towards the town. To
this they immediately gave chase, and the strong Waler horses were urged
to their utmost speed. The appearance of this clattering swarm of
horsemen, must have been formidable to those below. But we who watched
from the heights saw what Ian Hamilton, who was in high spirits,
described as 'a charge of infuriated mice' streaming across the brown
veldt; so great are the distances in modern war.
Towards four o'clock the cannonade all along the front had died away,
and only the heavy artillery on the right of Pole-Carew's Division
continued to fire, shelling the forts, whose profile showed plainly on
the sky-line, and even hurling their projectiles right over the hills
into Pretoria itself. So heavy had the artillery been that the Boers
did not endure, and alarmed as well by the flank movement they retreated
in haste through the town; so that before dusk their whole position was
occupied by the Infantry without much loss. Night, which falls at this
season and in this part of the world as early as half-past five, then
shut down on the scene, and the action--in which practically the whole
Army Corps had been engaged--ended.
The fact that the forts had not replied to the British batteries showed
that their guns had been removed, and that the Boers had no serious
intention of defending their capital. The Field-Marshal's orders for the
morrow were, therefore, that the army should advance at daybreak on
Pretoria, which it was believed would then be formally surrendered.
Meanwhile, however, Colonel de Lisle, with the infuriated mice--in other
words, the Australians--was pressing hotly on, and at about six o'clock,
having captured the flying Maxim, he seized a position within rifle shot
of the town. From here he could see the Boers galloping in disorder
through the streets, and, encouraged by the confusion that apparently
prevailed, he sent an officer under flag of truce to demand the
surrender. This the panic-stricken civil authorities, with the consent
of Commandant Botha, obeyed, and though no British troops entered the
town until the next day, Pretoria actually fell before midnight on the
4th of June.
As soon as the light allowed the army moved forward. The Guards were
directed on the railway station. Ian Hamilton's force swept round the
western side. Wishing to enter among the first of the victorious troops
the town I had crept away from as a fugitive six months before, I
hurried forward, and, with the Duke of Marlborough, soon overtook
General Pole-Carew, who, with his staff, was advancing towards the
railway station. We passed through a narrow cleft in the southern wall
of mountains, and Pretoria lay before us--a picturesque little town with
red or blue roofs peeping out among masses of trees, and here and there
an occasional spire or factory chimney. Behind us, on the hills we had
taken, the brown forts were crowded with British soldiers. Scarcely two
hundred yards away stood the railway station.
Arrived at this point, General Pole-Carew was compelled to wait to let
his Infantry catch him up; and while we were delayed a locomotive
whistle sounded loudly, and, to our astonishment--for had not the town
surrendered?--a train drawn by two engines steamed out of the station on
the Delagoa Bay line. For a moment we stared at this insolent breach of
the customs of war, and a dozen staff officers, aides-de-camp, and
orderlies (no mounted troops being at hand) started off at a furious
gallop in the hopes of compelling the train to stop, or at least of
scooting the engine-driver, and so sending it to its destruction. But
wire fences and the gardens of the houses impeded the pursuers, and, in
spite of all their efforts, the train escaped, carrying with it ten
trucks of horses, which might have been very useful, and one truck-load
of Hollanders. Three engines with steam up and several trains, however,
remained in the station, and the leading company of Grenadiers, doubling
forward, captured them and their occupants. These Boers attempted to
resist the troops with pistols, but surrendered after two volleys had
been fired, no one, fortunately, being hurt in the scrimmage.
After a further delay, the Guards, fixing bayonets, began to enter the
town, marching through the main street, which was crowded with people,
towards the central square, and posting sentries and pickets as they
went. We were naturally very anxious to know what had befallen our
comrades held prisoners all these long months. Rumour said they had
been removed during the night to Waterfall Boven, 200 miles down the
Delagoa Bay line. But nothing definite was known.
The Duke of Marlborough, however, found a mounted Dutchman who said he
knew where all the officers were confined, and who undertook to guide
us, and without waiting for the troops, who were advancing with all due
precautions, we set off at a gallop.
The distance was scarcely three-quarters of a mile, and in a few
minutes, turning a corner and crossing a little brook, we saw before us
a long tin building surrounded by a dense wire entanglement. Seeing
this, and knowing its meaning too well, I raised my hat and cheered.
The cry was instantly answered from within. What followed resembled the
end of an Adelphi melodrama.
The Duke of Marlborough called on the commandant to surrender forthwith.
The prisoners rushed out of the house into the yard, some in uniform,
some in flannels, hatless or coatless, but all violently excited. The
sentries threw down their rifles. The gates were flung open, and while
the rest of the guards--they numbered fifty-two in all--stood uncertain
what to do, the long-penned-up officers surrounded them and seized their
weapons. Some one--Grimshaw of the Dublin Fusiliers--produced a Union
Jack (made during imprisonment out of a Vierkleur). The Transvaal
emblem was torn down, and, amid wild cheers, the first British flag was
hoisted over Pretoria. Time 8.47, June 5.
The commandant then made formal surrender to the Duke of Marlborough of
129 officers and 39 soldiers whom he had in his custody as prisoners of
war, and surrendered, besides himself, 4 corporals and 48 Dutchmen.
These latter were at once confined within the wire cage, and guarded by
their late prisoners; but, since they had treated the captives well,
they have now been permitted to take the oath of neutrality and return
to their homes. The anxieties which the prisoners had suffered during
the last few hours of their confinement were terrible, nor did I wonder,
when I heard the account, why their faces were so white and their manner
so excited. But the reader shall learn the tale from one of their
number, nor will I anticipate.
At two o'clock Lord Roberts, the staff, and the foreign attaches entered
the town, and proceeded to the central square, wherein the Town Hall,
the Parliament House, and other public buildings are situated. The
British flag was hoisted over the Parliament House amid some cheers.
The victorious army then began to parade past it, Pole-Carew's Division,
with the Guards leading, coming from the south, and Ian Hamilton's force
from the west. For three hours the broad river of steel and khaki
flowed unceasingly, and the townsfolk gazed in awe and wonder at those
majestic soldiers whose discipline neither perils nor hardships had
disturbed, whose relentless march no obstacles could prevent.
With such pomp and the rolling of drums the new order of things was
ushered in. The former Government had ended without dignity. One
thought to find the President--stolid old Dutchman--seated on his stoep
reading his Bible and smoking a sullen pipe. But he chose a different
course. On the Friday preceding the British occupation he left the
capital and withdrew along the Delagoa Bay Railway, taking with him a
million pounds in gold, and leaving behind him a crowd of officials
clamouring for pay, and far from satisfied with the worthless cheques
they had received, and Mrs. Kruger, concerning whose health the British
people need not further concern themselves.
I cannot end this letter without recalling for one moment the grave
risks Lord Roberts bravely faced in order to strike the decisive blow
and seize Pretoria. When he decided to advance from Vereeniging without
waiting for more supplies, and so profit by the enemy's disorder, he
played for a great stake. He won, and it is very easy now to forget the
adverse chances. But the facts stand out in glaring outline: that if
the Boers had defended Pretoria with their forts and guns they could
have checked us for several weeks; and if, while we were trying to push
our investment, the line had been cut behind us, as it has since been
cut, nothing would have remained but starvation or an immediate retreat
on Johannesburg, perhaps on the Vaal. Even now our position is not
thoroughly secure, and the difficulties of subjugating a vast country,
though sparsely populated, are such that the troops in South Africa are
scarcely sufficient. But the question of supplies is for the present
solved. The stores of Johannesburg, and still more of Pretoria, will
feed the army for something over a fortnight, and in the meanwhile we
can re-open our communications, and perhaps do much more. But what a
lucky nation we are to have found, at a time of sore need and trouble, a
General great enough to take all risks and overcome all dangers.