While the Glencoe force had struck furiously at the army of Lucas Meyer,
and had afterwards by hard marching disengaged itself from the numerous
dangers which threatened it, its comrades at Ladysmith had loyally
co-operated in drawing off the attention of the enemy and keeping the
line of retreat open.
On October 20th--the same day as the Battle of Talana Hill--the line was
cut by the Boers at a point nearly midway between Dundee and Ladysmith.
A small body of horsemen were the forerunners of a considerable
commando, composed of Freestaters, Transvaalers, and Germans, who had
advanced into Natal through Botha's Pass under the command of General
Koch. They had with them the two Maxim-Nordenfelds which had been
captured from the Jameson raiders, and were now destined to return
once more to British hands. Colonel Schiel, the German artillerist, had
charge of these guns.
On the evening of that day General French, with a strong reconnoitering
party, including the Natal Carabineers, the 5th Lancers, and the 21st
battery, had defined the enemy's position. Next morning (the 21st) he
returned, but either the enemy had been reinforced during the night or
he had underrated them the day before, for the force which he took with
him was too weak for any serious attack. He had one battery of the Natal
artillery, with their little seven-pounder popguns, five squadrons
of the Imperial Horse, and, in the train which slowly accompanied his
advance, half a battalion of the Manchester Regiment. Elated by the news
of Talana Hill, and anxious to emulate their brothers of Dundee, the
little force moved out of Ladysmith in the early morning.
Some at least of the men were animated by feelings such as seldom find a
place in the breast of the British soldier as he marches into battle.
A sense of duty, a belief in the justice of his cause, a love for his
regiment and for his country, these are the common incentives of every
soldier. But to the men of the Imperial Light Horse, recruited as they
were from among the British refugees of the Rand, there was added a
burning sense of injustice, and in many cases a bitter hatred against
the men whose rule had weighed so heavily upon them. In this singular
corps the ranks were full of wealthy men and men of education, who,
driven from their peaceful vocations in Johannesburg, were bent upon
fighting their way back to them again. A most unmerited slur had been
cast upon their courage in connection with the Jameson raid--a slur
which they and other similar corps have washed out for ever in their own
blood and that of their enemy. Chisholm, a fiery little Lancer, was in
command, with Karri Davis and Wools-Sampson, the two stalwarts who had
preferred Pretoria Gaol to the favours of Kruger, as his majors. The
troopers were on fire at the news that a cartel had arrived in Ladysmith
the night before, purporting to come from the Johannesburg Boers and
Hollanders, asking what uniform the Light Horse wore, as they were
anxious to meet them in battle. These men were fellow townsmen and knew
each other well. They need not have troubled about the uniform, for
before evening the Light Horse were near enough for them to know their
faces.
It was about eight o'clock on a bright summer morning that the small
force came in contact with a few scattered Boer outposts, who retired,
firing, before the advance of the Imperial Light Horse. As they fell
back the green and white tents of the invaders came into view upon the
russet-coloured hillside of Elandslaagte. Down at the red brick railway
station the Boers could be seen swarming out of the buildings in which
they had spent the night. The little Natal guns, firing with obsolete
black powder, threw a few shells into the station, one of which, it
is said, penetrated a Boer ambulance which could not be seen by the
gunners. The accident was to be regretted, but as no patients could have
been in the ambulance the mischance was not a serious one.
But the busy, smoky little seven-pounder guns were soon to meet their
master. Away up on the distant hillside, a long thousand yards beyond
their own furthest range, there was a sudden bright flash. No smoke,
only the throb of flame, and then the long sibilant scream of the shell,
and the thud as it buried itself in the ground under a limber. Such
judgment of range would have delighted the most martinet of inspectors
at Okehampton. Bang came another, and another, and another, right
into the heart of the battery. The six little guns lay back at their
extremest angle, and all barked together in impotent fury. Another shell
pitched over them, and the officer in command lowered his field-glass in
despair as he saw his own shells bursting far short upon the hillside.
Jameson's defeat does not seem to have been due to any defect in his
artillery. French, peering and pondering, soon came to the
conclusion that there were too many Boers for him, and that if those
fifteen-pounders desired target practice they should find some other
mark than the Natal Field Artillery. A few curt orders, and his whole
force was making its way to the rear. There, out of range of those
perilous guns, they halted, the telegraph wire was cut, a telephone
attachment was made, and French whispered his troubles into the
sympathetic ear of Ladysmith. He did not whisper in vain. What he had
to say was that where he had expected a few hundred riflemen he found
something like two thousand, and that where he expected no guns he found
two very excellent ones. The reply was that by road and by rail as many
men as could be spared were on their way to join him.
Soon they began to drop in, those useful reinforcements--first the
Devons, quiet, business-like, reliable; then the Gordons, dashing,
fiery, brilliant. Two squadrons of the 5th Lancers, the 42nd R.F.A., the
21st R.F.A., another squadron of Lancers, a squadron of the 5th Dragoon
Guards--French began to feel that he was strong enough for the task in
front of him. He had a decided superiority of numbers and of guns. But
the others were on their favourite defensive on a hill. It would be a
fair fight and a deadly one.
It was late after noon before the advance began. It was hard, among
those billowing hills, to make out the exact limits of the enemy's
position. All that was certain was that they were there, and that
we meant having them out if it were humanly possible. 'The enemy are
there,' said Ian Hamilton to his infantry; 'I hope you will shift
them out before sunset--in fact I know you will.' The men cheered and
laughed. In long open lines they advanced across the veld, while the
thunder of the two batteries behind them told the Boer gunners that it
was their turn now to know what it was to be outmatched.
The idea was to take the position by a front and a flank attack, but
there seems to have been some difficulty in determining which was the
front and which the flank. In fact, it was only by trying that one
could know. General White with his staff had arrived from Ladysmith,
but refused to take the command out of French's hands. It is typical of
White's chivalrous spirit that within ten days he refused to identify
himself with a victory when it was within his right to do so, and took
the whole responsibility for a disaster at which he was not present.
Now he rode amid the shells and watched the able dispositions of his
lieutenant.
About half-past three the action had fairly begun. In front of the
advancing British there lay a rolling hill, topped by a further one. The
lower hill was not defended, and the infantry, breaking from column of
companies into open order, advanced over it. Beyond was a broad grassy
valley which led up to the main position, a long kopje flanked by a
small sugar-loaf one Behind the green slope which led to the ridge of
death an ominous and terrible cloud was driving up, casting its black
shadow over the combatants. There was the stillness which goes before
some great convulsion of nature. The men pressed on in silence, the soft
thudding of their feet and the rattle of their sidearms filling the air
with a low and continuous murmur. An additional solemnity was given to
the attack by that huge black cloud which hung before them.
The British guns had opened at a range of 4400 yards, and now against
the swarthy background there came the quick smokeless twinkle of the
Boer reply. It was an unequal fight, but gallantly sustained. A shot and
another to find the range; then a wreath of smoke from a bursting
shell exactly where the guns had been, followed by another and another.
Overmatched, the two Boer pieces relapsed into a sulky silence,
broken now and again by short spurts of frenzied activity. The British
batteries turned their attention away from them, and began to search the
ridge with shrapnel and prepare the way for the advancing infantry.
The scheme was that the Devonshires should hold the enemy in front while
the main attack from the left flank was carried out by the Gordons,
the Manchesters, and the Imperial Light Horse. The words 'front' and
'flank,' however, cease to have any meaning with so mobile and elastic
a force, and the attack which was intended to come from the left became
really a frontal one, while the Devons found themselves upon the right
flank of the Boers. At the moment of the final advance the great black
cloud had burst, and a torrent of rain lashed into the faces of the men.
Slipping and sliding upon the wet grass, they advanced to the assault.
And now amid the hissing of the rain there came the fuller, more
menacing whine of the Mauser bullets, and the ridge rattled from end to
end with the rifle fire. Men fell fast, but their comrades pressed
hotly on. There was a long way to go, for the summit of the position was
nearly 800 feet above the level of the railway. The hillside, which had
appeared to be one slope, was really a succession of undulations, so
that the advancing infantry alternately dipped into shelter and emerged
into a hail of bullets. The line of advance was dotted with khaki-clad
figures, some still in death, some writhing in their agony. Amid the
litter of bodies a major of the Gordons, shot through the leg, sat
philosophically smoking his pipe. Plucky little Chisholm, Colonel of the
Imperials, had fallen with two mortal wounds as he dashed forward waving
a coloured sash in the air. So long was the advance and so trying the
hill that the men sank panting upon the ground, and took their breath
before making another rush. As at Talana Hill, regimental formation was
largely gone, and men of the Manchesters, Gordons, and Imperial Light
Horse surged upwards in one long ragged fringe, Scotchman, Englishman,
and British Africander keeping pace in that race of death. And now at
last they began to see their enemy. Here and there among the boulders
in front of them there was the glimpse of a slouched hat, or a peep at
a flushed bearded face which drooped over a rifle barrel. There was a
pause, and then with a fresh impulse the wave of men gathered themselves
together and flung themselves forward. 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. 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. Their leader Koch, an old
gentleman with a white beard, lay amidst the rocks, wounded in three
places. He was treated with all courtesy and attention, but died in
Ladysmith Hospital some days afterwards.
In the meanwhile the Devonshire Regiment had waited until the attack
had developed and had then charged the hill upon the flank, while
the artillery moved up until it was within 2000 yards of the enemy's
position. The Devons met with a less fierce resistance than the others,
and swept up to the summit in time to head off some of the fugitives.
The whole of our infantry were now upon the ridge.
But even so these dour fighters were not beaten. They clung desperately
to the further edges of the plateau, firing from behind the rocks.
There had been a race for the nearest gun between an officer of the
Manchesters and a drummer sergeant of the Gordons. The officer won, and
sprang in triumph on to the piece. Men of all regiments swarmed round
yelling and cheering, when upon their astonished ears there sounded the
'Cease fire' and then the 'Retire.' It was incredible, and yet it pealed
out again, unmistakable in its urgency. With the instinct of discipline
the men were slowly falling back. And then the truth of it came upon
the minds of some of them. The crafty enemy had learned our bugle calls.
'Retire be damned! shrieked a little bugler, and blew the 'Advance' with
all the breath that the hillside had left him. The men, who had retired
a hundred yards and uncovered the guns, flooded back over the plateau,
and in the Boer camp which lay beneath it a white flag showed that
the game was up. A squadron of the 5th Lancers and of the 5th Dragoon
Guards, under Colonel Gore of the latter regiment, had prowled round
the base of the hill, and in the fading light they charged through and
through the retreating Boers, killing several, and making from twenty to
thirty prisoners. It was one of the very few occasions in the war where
the mounted Briton overtook the mounted Boer.
'What price Majuba?' was the cry raised by some of the infantry as they
dashed up to the enemy's position, and the action may indeed be said to
have been in some respects the converse of that famous fight. It is true
that there were many more British at Elandslaagte than Boers at Majuba,
but then the defending force was much more numerous also, and the
British had no guns there. It is true, also, that Majuba is very much
more precipitous than Elandslaagte, but then every practical soldier
knows that it is easier to defend a moderate glacis than an abrupt
slope, which gives cover under its boulders to the attacker while the
defender has to crane his head over the edge to look down. On the whole,
this brilliant little action may be said to have restored things to
their true proportion, and to have shown that, brave as the Boers
undoubtedly are, there is no military feat within their power which
is not equally possible to the British soldier. Talana Hill and
Elandslaagte, fought on successive days, were each of them as gallant an
exploit as Majuba.
We had more to show for our victory than for the previous one at Dundee.
Two Maxim-Nordenfeld guns, whose efficiency had been painfully evident
during the action, were a welcome addition to our artillery. Two hundred
and fifty Boers were killed and wounded and about two hundred taken
prisoners, the loss falling most heavily upon the Johannesburgers, the
Germans, and the Hollanders. General Koch, Dr. Coster, Colonel Schiel,
Pretorius, and other well-known Transvaalers fell into our hands. Our
own casualty list consisted of 41 killed and 220 wounded, much the same
number as at Talana Hill, the heaviest losses falling upon the Gordon
Highlanders and the Imperial Light Horse.
In the hollow where the Boer tents had stood, amid the laagered wagons
of the vanquished, under a murky sky and a constant drizzle of rain, the
victors spent the night. Sleep was out of the question, for all night
the fatigue parties were searching the hillside and the wounded were
being carried in. Camp-fires were lit and soldiers and prisoners crowded
round them, and it is pleasant to recall that the warmest corner and the
best of their rude fare were always reserved for the downcast Dutchmen,
while words of rude praise and sympathy softened the pain of defeat. It
is the memory of such things which may in happier days be more potent
than all the wisdom of statesmen in welding our two races into one.
Having cleared the Boer force from the line of the railway, it is
evident that General White could not continue to garrison the point, as
he was aware that considerable forces were moving from the north,
and his first duty was the security of Ladysmith. Early next morning
(October 22nd), therefore, his weary but victorious troops returned
to the town. Once there he learned, no doubt, that General Yule had
no intention of using the broken railway for his retreat, but that he
intended to come in a circuitous fashion by road. White's problem was
to hold tight to the town and at the same time to strike hard at any
northern force so as to prevent them from interfering with Yule's
retreat. It was in the furtherance of this scheme that he fought upon
October 24th the action of Rietfontein, an engagement slight in itself,
but important on account of the clear road which was secured for the
weary forces retiring from Dundee.
The army from the Free State, of which the commando vanquished at
Elandslaagte was the vanguard, had been slowly and steadily debouching
from the passes, and working south and eastwards to cut the line between
Dundee and Ladysmith. It was White's intention to prevent them from
crossing the Newcastle Road, and for this purpose he sallied out of
Ladysmith on Tuesday the 24th, having with him two regiments of cavalry,
the 5th Lancers and the 19th Hussars, the 42nd and 53rd field batteries
with the 10th mountain battery, four infantry regiments, the Devons,
Liverpools, Gloucesters, and 2nd King's Royal Rifles, the Imperial Light
Horse, and the Natal Volunteers--some four thousand men in all.
The enemy were found to be in possession of a line of hills within
seven miles of Ladysmith, the most conspicuous of which is called Tinta
Inyoni. It was no part of General White's plan to attempt to drive him
from this position--it is not wise generalship to fight always upon
ground of the enemy's choosing--but it was important to hold him where
he was, and to engage his attention during this last day of the march
of the retreating column. For this purpose, since no direct attack was
intended, the guns were of more importance than the infantry--and indeed
the infantry should, one might imagine, have been used solely as an
escort for the artillery. A desultory and inconclusive action ensued
which continued from nine in the morning until half-past one in the
afternoon. A well-directed fire of the Boer guns from the hills was
dominated and controlled by our field artillery, while the advance of
their riflemen was restrained by shrapnel. The enemy's guns were more
easily marked down than at Elandslaagte, as they used black powder. The
ranges varied from three to four thousand yards. Our losses in the
whole action would have been insignificant had it not happened that the
Gloucester Regiment advanced somewhat incautiously into the open and was
caught in a cross fire of musketry which struck down Colonel Wilford and
fifty of his officers and men. Within four days Colonel Dick-Cunyngham,
of the Gordons, Colonel Chisholm, of the Light Horse, Colonel Gunning,
of the Rifles, and now Colonel Wilford, of the Gloucesters, had all
fallen at the head of their regiments. In the afternoon General White,
having accomplished his purpose and secured the safety of the Dundee
column while traversing the dangerous Biggarsberg passes, withdrew his
force to Ladysmith. We have no means of ascertaining the losses of the
Boers, but they were probably slight. On our side we lost 109 killed and
wounded, of which only 13 cases were fatal. Of this total 64 belonged
to the Gloucesters and 25 to the troops raised in Natal. Next day, as
already narrated, the whole British army was re-assembled once more at
Ladysmith, and the campaign was to enter upon a new phase.
At the end of this first vigorous week of hostilities it is interesting
to sum up the net result. The strategical advantage had lain with the
Boers. They had made our position at Dundee untenable and had driven us
back to Ladysmith. They had the country and the railway for the northern
quarter of the colony in their possession. They had killed and wounded
between six and seven hundred of our men, and they had captured some two
hundred of our cavalry, while we had been compelled at Dundee to leave
considerable stores and our wounded, including General Penn Symons, who
actually died while a prisoner in their hands. On the other hand, the
tactical advantages lay with us. We had twice driven them from their
positions, and captured two of their guns. We had taken two hundred
prisoners, and had probably killed and wounded as many as we had lost.
On the whole, the honours of that week's fighting in Natal may be said
to have been fairly equal--which is more than we could claim for many a
weary week to come.