The heroic moment of the siege of Ladysmith was that which witnessed the
repulse of the great attack. The epic should have ended at that dramatic
instant. But instead of doing so the story falls back to an anticlimax
of crowded hospitals, slaughtered horses, and sporadic shell fire.
For another six weeks of inactivity the brave garrison endured all the
sordid evils which had steadily grown from inconvenience to misfortune
and from misfortune to misery. Away in the south they heard the thunder
of Buller's guns, and from the hills round the town they watched with
pale faces and bated breath the tragedy of Spion Kop, preserving a firm
conviction that a very little more would have transformed it into their
salvation. Their hearts sank with the sinking of the cannonade, and rose
again with the roar of Vaalkranz. But Vaalkranz also failed them, and
they waited on in the majesty of their hunger and their weakness for the
help which was to come.
It has been already narrated how General Buller had made his three
attempts for the relief of the city. The General who was inclined to
despair was now stimulated by despatches from Lord Roberts, while his
army, who were by no means inclined to despair, were immensely cheered
by the good news from the Kimberley side. Both General and army prepared
for a last supreme effort. This time, at least, the soldiers hoped that
they would be permitted to burst their way to the help of their starving
comrades or leave their bones among the hills which had faced them so
long. All they asked was a fight to a finish, and now they were about to
have one. General Buller had tried the Boers' centre, he had tried their
extreme right, and now he was about to try their extreme left. There
were some obvious advantages on this side which make it surprising that
it was not the first to be attempted. In the first place, the enemy's
main position upon that flank was at Hlangwane mountain, which is to
the south of the Tugela, so that in case of defeat the river ran behind
them. In the second, Hlangwane mountain was the one point from which the
Boer position at Colenso could be certainly enfiladed, and therefore
the fruits of victory would be greater on that flank than on the other.
Finally, the operations could be conducted at no great distance from the
railhead, and the force would be exposed to little danger of having its
flank attacked or its communications cut, as was the case in the Spion
Kop advance. Against these potent considerations there is only to be put
the single fact that the turning of the Boer right would threaten the
Freestaters' line of retreat. On the whole, the balance of advantage lay
entirely with the new attempt, and the whole army advanced to it with a
premonition of success. Of all the examples which the war has given of
the enduring qualities of the British troops there is none more striking
than the absolute confidence and whole hearted delight with which, after
three bloody repulses, they set forth upon another venture.
On February 9th the movements were started which transferred the greater
part of the force from the extreme left to the centre and right. By the
11th Lyttelton's (formerly Clery's) second division and Warren's fifth
division had come eastward, leaving Burn Murdoch's cavalry brigade
to guard the Western side. On the 12th Lord Dundonald, with all the
colonial cavalry, two battalions of infantry, and a battery, made a
strong reconnaissance towards Hussar Hill, which is the nearest of
the several hills which would have to be occupied in order to turn the
position. The hill was taken, but was abandoned again by General Buller
after he had used it for some hours as an observatory. A long-range
action between the retiring cavalry and the Boers ended in a few losses
upon each side.
What Buller had seen during the hour or two which he had spent with his
telescope upon Hussar Hill had evidently confirmed him in his views, for
two days later (February 14th) the whole army set forth for this point.
By the morning of the 15th twenty thousand men were concentrated upon
the sides and spurs of this eminence. On the 16th the heavy guns were in
position, and all was ready for the advance.
Facing them now were the formidable Boer lines of Hlangwane Hill and
Green Hill, which would certainly cost several thousands of men if they
were to take them by direct storm. Beyond them, upon the Boer flank,
were the hills of Monte Christo and Cingolo, which appeared to be
the extreme outside of the Boer position. The plan was to engage the
attention of the trenches in front by a terrific artillery fire and
the threat of an assault, while at the same time sending the true flank
attack far round to carry the Cingolo ridge, which must be taken before
any other hill could be approached.
On the 17th, in the early morning, with the first tinge of violet in the
east, the irregular cavalry and the second division (Lyttelton's) with
Wynne's Brigade started upon their widely curving flanking march. The
country through which they passed was so broken that the troopers led
their horses in single file, and would have found themselves helpless in
face of any resistance. Fortunately, Cingolo Hill was very weakly held,
and by evening both our horsemen and our infantry had a firm grip upon
it, thus turning the extreme left flank of the Boer position. For once
their mountainous fortresses were against them, for a mounted Boer force
is so mobile that in an open position, such as faced Methuen, it is very
hard and requires great celerity of movement ever to find a flank at
all. On a succession of hills, however, it was evident that some one
hill must mark the extreme end of their line, and Buller had found it at
Cingolo. Their answer to this movement was to throw their flank back so
as to face the new position.
Even now, however, the Boer leaders had apparently not realised that
this was the main attack, or it is possible that the intervention of the
river made it difficult for them to send reinforcements. However that
may be, it is certain that the task which the British found awaiting
them on the 18th proved to be far easier than they had dared to hope.
The honours of the day rested with Hildyard's English Brigade (East
Surrey, West Surrey, West Yorkshires, and 2nd Devons). In open order
and with a rapid advance, taking every advantage of the cover--which was
better than is usual in South African warfare--they gained the edge
of the Monte Christo ridge, and then swiftly cleared the crest. One at
least of the regiments engaged, the Devons, was nerved by the thought
that their own first battalion was waiting for them at Ladysmith.
The capture of the hill made the line of trenches which faced Buller
untenable, and he was at once able to advance with Barton's Fusilier
Brigade and to take possession of the whole Boer position of Hlangwane
and Green Hill. It was not a great tactical victory, for they had no
trophies to show save the worthless debris of the Boer camps. But it was
a very great strategical victory, for it not only gave them the whole
south side of the Tugela, but also the means of commanding with their
guns a great deal of the north side, including those Colenso trenches
which had blocked the way so long. A hundred and seventy killed and
wounded (of whom only fourteen were killed) was a trivial price for such
a result. At last from the captured ridges the exultant troops could
see far away the haze which lay over the roofs of Ladysmith, and the
besieged, with hearts beating high with hope, turned their glasses upon
the distant mottled patches which told them that their comrades were
approaching.
By February 20th the British had firmly established themselves along the
whole south bank of the river, Hart's brigade had occupied Colenso,
and the heavy guns had been pushed up to more advanced positions. The
crossing of the river was the next operation, and the question arose
where it should be crossed. The wisdom which comes with experience shows
us now that it would have been infinitely better to have crossed on
their extreme left flank, as by an advance upon this line we should have
turned their strong Pieters position just as we had already turned their
Colenso one. With an absolutely master card in our hand we refused to
play it, and won the game by a more tedious and perilous process. The
assumption seems to have been made (on no other hypothesis can one
understand the facts) that the enemy were demoralised and that the
positions would not be strongly held. Our flanking advantage was
abandoned and a direct advance was ordered from Colenso, involving a
frontal attack upon the Pieters position.
On February 21st Buller threw his pontoon bridge over the river near
Colenso, and the same evening his army began to cross. It was at once
evident that the Boer resistance had by no means collapsed. Wynne's
Lancashire Brigade were the first across, and found themselves hotly
engaged before nightfall. The low kopjes in front of them were blazing
with musketry fire. The brigade held its own, but lost the Brigadier
(the second in a month) and 150 rank and file. Next morning the main
body of the infantry was passed across, and the army was absolutely
committed to the formidable and unnecessary enterprise of fighting its
way straight to Ladysmith.
The force in front had weakened, however, both in numbers and in morale.
Some thousands of the Freestaters had left in order to defend their own
country from the advance of Roberts, while the rest were depressed by as
much of the news as was allowed by their leaders to reach them. But
the Boer is a tenacious fighter, and many a brave man was still to
fall before Buller and White should shake hands in the High Street of
Ladysmith.
The first obstacle which faced the army, after crossing the river, was
a belt of low rolling ground, which was gradually cleared by the advance
of our infantry. As night closed in the advance lines of Boers and
British were so close to each other that incessant rifle fire was
maintained until morning, and at more than one point small bodies of
desperate riflemen charged right up to the bayonets of our infantry. The
morning found us still holding our positions all along the line, and
as more and more of our infantry came up and gun after gun roared into
action we began to push our stubborn enemy northwards. On the 21st the
Dorsets, Middlesex, and Somersets had borne the heat of the day. On the
22nd it was the Royal Lancasters, followed by the South Lancashires, who
took up the running. It would take the patience and also the space of
a Kinglake in this scrambling broken fight to trace the doings of those
groups of men who strove and struggled through the rifle fire. All day
a steady advance was maintained over the low kopjes, until by evening
we were faced by the more serious line of the Pieter's Hills. The
operations had been carried out with a monotony of gallantry. Always the
same extended advance, always the same rattle of Mausers and clatter of
pom-poms from a ridge, always the same victorious soldiers on the barren
crest, with a few crippled Boers before them and many crippled comrades
behind. They were expensive triumphs, and yet every one brought them
nearer to their goal. And now, like an advancing tide, they lapped along
the base of Pieter's Hill. Could they gather volume enough to carry
themselves over? The issue of the long-drawn battle and the fate of
Ladysmith hung upon the question.
Brigadier Fitzroy Hart, to whom the assault was entrusted, is in some
ways as singular and picturesque a type as has been evolved in the war.
A dandy soldier, always the picture of neatness from the top of his
helmet to the heels of his well-polished brown boots, he brings to
military matters the same precision which he affects in dress. Pedantic
in his accuracy, he actually at the battle of Colenso drilled the Irish
Brigade for half an hour before leading them into action, and threw
out markers under a deadly fire in order that his change from close to
extended formation might be academically correct. The heavy loss of the
Brigade at this action was to some extent ascribed to him and affected
his popularity; but as his men came to know him better, his romantic
bravery, his whimsical soldierly humour, their dislike changed into
admiration. His personal disregard for danger was notorious and
reprehensible. 'Where is General Hart?' asked some one in action. 'I
have not seen him, but I know where you will find him. Go ahead of the
skirmish line and you will see him standing on a rock,' was the answer.
He bore a charmed life. It was a danger to be near him. 'Whom are you
going to?' 'General Hart,' said the aide-de-camp. 'Then good-bye!'
cried his fellows. A grim humour ran through his nature. It is gravely
recorded and widely believed that he lined up a regiment on a hill-top
in order to teach them not to shrink from fire. Amid the laughter of his
Irishmen, he walked through the open files of his firing line holding a
laggard by the ear. This was the man who had put such a spirit into the
Irish Brigade that amid that army of valiant men there were none who
held such a record. 'Their rushes were the quickest, their rushes were
the longest, and they stayed the shortest time under cover,' said a
shrewd military observer. To Hart and his brigade was given the task of
clearing the way to Ladysmith.
The regiments which he took with him on his perilous enterprise were the
1st Inniskilling Fusiliers, the 2nd Dublin Fusiliers, the 1st Connaught
Rangers, and the Imperial Light Infantry, the whole forming the famous
5th Brigade. They were already in the extreme British advance, and now,
as they moved forwards, the Durham Light Infantry and the 1st Rifle
Brigade from Lyttelton's Brigade came up to take their place. The hill
to be taken lay on the right, and the soldiers were compelled to pass in
single file under a heavy fire for more than a mile until they reached
the spot which seemed best for their enterprise. There, short already
of sixty of their comrades, they assembled and began a cautious advance
upon the lines of trenches and sangars which seamed the brown slope
above them.
For a time they were able to keep some cover, and the casualties were
comparatively few. But now at last, as the evening sun threw a long
shadow from the hills, the leading regiment, the Inniskillings, found
themselves at the utmost fringe of boulders with a clear slope between
them and the main trench of the enemy. Up there where the shrapnel was
spurting and the great lyddite shells crashing they could dimly see a
line of bearded faces and the black dots of the slouch hats. With a yell
the Inniskillings sprang out, carried with a rush the first trench,
and charged desperately onwards for the second one. It was a supremely
dashing attack against a supremely steady resistance, for among all
their gallant deeds the Boers have never fought better than on that
February evening. Amid such a smashing shell fire as living mortals have
never yet endured they stood doggedly, these hardy men of the veld, and
fired fast and true into the fiery ranks of the Irishmen. The yell of
the stormers was answered by the remorseless roar of the Mausers and
the deep-chested shouts of the farmers. Up and up surged the infantry,
falling, rising, dashing bull-headed at the crackling line of the
trench. But still the bearded faces glared at them over the edge,
and still the sheet of lead pelted through their ranks. The regiment
staggered, came on, staggered again, was overtaken by supporting
companies of the Dublins and the Connaughts, came on, staggered once
more, and finally dissolved into shreds, who ran swiftly back for cover,
threading their way among their stricken comrades. Never on this
earth was there a retreat of which the survivors had less reason to be
ashamed. They had held on to the utmost capacity of human endurance.
Their Colonel, ten officers, and more than half the regiment were
lying on the fatal hill. Honour to them, and honour also to the gallant
Dutchmen who, rooted in the trenches, had faced the rush and fury
of such an onslaught! Today to them, tomorrow to us--but it is for a
soldier to thank the God of battles for worthy foes.
It is one thing, however, to repulse the British soldier and it is
another to rout him. Within a few hundred yards of their horrible ordeal
at Magersfontein the Highlanders reformed into a military body. So now
the Irishmen fell back no further than the nearest cover, and there
held grimly on to the ground which they had won. If you would know the
advantage which the defence has over the attack, then do you come and
assault this line of tenacious men, now in your hour of victory and
exultation, friend Boer! Friend Boer did attempt it, and skilfully too,
moving a flanking party to sweep the position with their fire. But the
brigade, though sorely hurt, held them off without difficulty, and was
found on the morning of the 24th to be still lying upon the ground which
they had won.
Our losses had been very heavy, Colonel Thackeray of the Inniskillings,
Colonel Sitwell of the Dublins, three majors, twenty officers, and a
total of about six hundred out of 1200 actually engaged. To take such
punishment and to remain undemoralised is the supreme test to which
troops can be put. Could the loss have been avoided? By following the
original line of advance from Monte Christo, perhaps, when we should
have turned the enemy's left. But otherwise no. The hill was in the way
and had to be taken. In the war game you cannot play without a stake.
You lose and you pay forfeit, and where the game is fair the best player
is he who pays with the best grace. The attack was well prepared, well
delivered, and only miscarried on account of the excellence of the
defence. We proved once more what we had proved so often before, that
all valour and all discipline will not avail in a frontal attack against
brave coolheaded men armed with quick-firing rifles.
While the Irish Brigade assaulted Railway Hill an attack had been made
upon the left, which was probably meant as a demonstration to keep the
Boers from reinforcing their comrades rather than as an actual attempt
upon their lines. Such as it was, however, it cost the life of at least
one brave soldier, for Colonel Thorold, of the Welsh Fusiliers, was
among the fallen. Thorold, Thackeray, and Sitwell in one evening. Who
can say that British colonels have not given their men a lead?
The army was now at a deadlock. Railway Hill barred the way, and if
Hart's men could not carry it by assault it was hard to say who could.
The 24th found the two armies facing each other at this critical point,
the Irishmen still clinging to the slopes of the hill and the Boers
lining the top. Fierce rifle firing broke out between them during the
day, but each side was well covered and lay low. The troops in support
suffered somewhat, however, from a random shell fire. Mr. Winston
Churchill has left it upon record that within his own observation three
of their shrapnel shells fired at a venture on to the reverse slope of
a hill accounted for nineteen men and four horses. The enemy can never
have known how hard those three shells had hit us, and so we may also
believe that our artillery fire has often been less futile than it
appeared.
General Buller had now realised that it was no mere rearguard action
which the Boers were fighting, but that their army was standing doggedly
at bay; so he reverted to that flanking movement which, as events
showed, should never have been abandoned. Hart's Irish Brigade was at
present almost the right of the army. His new plan--a masterly one--was
to keep Hart pinning the Boers at that point, and to move his centre and
left across the river, and then back to envelope the left wing of the
enemy. By this manoeuvre Hart became the extreme left instead of the
extreme right, and the Irish Brigade would be the hinge upon which the
whole army should turn. It was a large conception, finely carried out.
The 24th was a day of futile shell fire--and of plans for the future.
The heavy guns were got across once more to the Monte Christo ridge and
to Hlangwane, and preparations made to throw the army from the west to
the east. The enemy still snarled and occasionally snapped in front of
Hart's men, but with four companies of the 2nd Rifle Brigade to protect
their flanks their position remained secure.
In the meantime, through a contretemps between our outposts and the
Boers, no leave had been given to us to withdraw our wounded, and the
unfortunate fellows, some hundreds of them, had lain between the lines
in agonies of thirst for thirty-six hours--one of the most painful
incidents of the campaign. Now, upon the 25th, an armistice was
proclaimed, and the crying needs of the survivors were attended to. On
the same day the hearts of our soldiers sank within them as they saw the
stream of our wagons and guns crossing the river once more. What, were
they foiled again? Was the blood of these brave men to be shed in vain?
They ground their teeth at the thought. The higher strategy was not for
them, but back was back and forward was forward, and they knew which way
their proud hearts wished to go.
The 26th was occupied by the large movements of troops which so
complete a reversal of tactics necessitated. Under the screen of a
heavy artillery fire, the British right became the left and the left
the right. A second pontoon bridge was thrown across near the old Boer
bridge at Hlangwane, and over it was passed a large force of infantry,
Barton's Fusilier Brigade, Kitchener's (vice Wynne's, vice Woodgate's)
Lancashire Brigade, and two battalions of Norcott's (formerly
Lyttelton's) Brigade. Coke's Brigade was left at Colenso to prevent
a counter attack upon our left flank and communications. In this way,
while Hart with the Durhams and the 1st Rifle Brigade held the Boers
in front, the main body of the army was rapidly swung round on to their
left flank. By the morning of the 27th all were in place for the new
attack.
Opposite the point where the troops had been massed were three Boer
hills; one, the nearest, may for convenience sake be called Barton's
Hill. As the army had formerly been situated the assault upon this hill
would have been a matter of extreme difficulty; but now, with the heavy
guns restored to their commanding position, from which they could sweep
its sides and summits, it had recovered its initial advantage. In the
morning sunlight Barton's Fusiliers crossed the river, and advanced
to the attack under a screaming canopy of shells. Up they went and up,
darting and crouching, until their gleaming bayonets sparkled upon the
summit. The masterful artillery had done its work, and the first long
step taken in this last stage of the relief of Ladysmith. The loss had
been slight and the advantage enormous. After they had gained the summit
the Fusiliers were stung and stung again by clouds of skirmishers who
clung to the flanks of the hill, but their grip was firm and grew firmer
with every hour.
Of the three Boer hills which had to be taken the nearest (or eastern
one) was now in the hands of the British. The furthest (or western one)
was that on which the Irish Brigade was still crouching, ready at any
moment for a final spring which would take them over the few hundred
yards which separated them from the trenches. Between the two intervened
a central hill, as yet untouched. Could we carry this the whole position
would be ours. Now for the final effort! Turn every gun upon it, the
guns of Monte Christo, the guns of Hlangwane! Turn every rifle upon
it--the rifles of Barton's men, the rifles of Hart's men, the carbines
of the distant cavalry! Scalp its crown with the machine-gun fire! And
now up with you, Lancashire men, Norcott's men! The summit or a glorious
death, for beyond that hill your suffering comrades are awaiting you!
Put every bullet and every man and all of fire and spirit that you are
worth into this last hour; for if you fail now you have failed for ever,
and if you win, then when your hairs are white your blood will still run
warm when you think of that morning's work. The long drama had drawn to
an end, and one short day's work is to show what that end was to be.
But there was never a doubt of it. Hardly for one instant did the
advance waver at any point of its extended line. It was the supreme
instant of the Natal campaign, as, wave after wave, the long lines of
infantry went shimmering up the hill. On the left the Lancasters, the
Lancashire Fusiliers, the South Lancashires, the York and Lancasters,
with a burr of north country oaths, went racing for the summit. Spion
Kop and a thousand comrades were calling for vengeance. 'Remember, men,
the eyes of Lancashire are watching you,' cried the gallant MacCarthy
O'Leary. The old 40th swept on, but his dead body marked the way which
they had taken. On the right the East Surrey, the Cameronians, the 3rd
Rifles, the 1st Rifle Brigade, the Durhams, and the gallant Irishmen, so
sorely stricken and yet so eager, were all pressing upwards and onwards.
The Boer fire lulls, it ceases--they are running! Wild hat-waving men
upon the Hlangwane uplands see the silhouette of the active figures of
the stormers along the sky-line and know that the position is theirs.
Exultant soldiers dance and cheer upon the ridge. The sun is setting in
glory over the great Drakensberg mountains, and so also that night
set for ever the hopes of the Boer invaders of Natal. Out of doubt and
chaos, blood and labour, had come at last the judgment that the lower
should not swallow the higher, that the world is for the man of the
twentieth and not of the seventeenth century. After a fortnight of
fighting the weary troops threw themselves down that night with the
assurance that at last the door was ajar and the light breaking through.
One more effort and it would be open before them.
Behind the line of hills which had been taken there extended a great
plain as far as Bulwana--that evil neighbour who had wrought such harm
upon Ladysmith. More than half of the Pieters position had fallen into
Buller's hands on the 27th, and the remainder had become untenable.
The Boers had lost some five hundred in killed, wounded, and prisoners.
[Footnote: Accurate figures will probably never be obtained, but a
well-known Boer in Pretoria informed me that Pieters was the most
expensive fight to them of the whole war. ] It seemed to the British
General and his men that one more action would bring them safely into
Ladysmith.
But here they miscalculated, and so often have we miscalculated on the
optimistic side in this campaign that it is pleasing to find for
once that our hopes were less than the reality. The Boers had been
beaten--fairly beaten and disheartened. It will always be a subject for
conjecture whether they were so entirely on the strength of the Natal
campaign, or whether the news of the Cronje disaster from the western
side had warned them that they must draw in upon the east. For my own
part I believe that the honour lies with the gallant men of Natal,
and that, moving on these lines, they would, Cronje or no Cronje, have
forced their way in triumph to Ladysmith.
And now the long-drawn story draws to a swift close. Cautiously feeling
their way with a fringe of horse, the British pushed over the great
plain, delayed here and there by the crackle of musketry, but finding
always that the obstacle gave way and vanished as they approached it.
At last it seemed clear to Dundonald that there really was no barrier
between his horsemen and the beleaguered city. With a squadron of
Imperial Light Horse and a squadron of Natal Carabineers he rode on
until, in the gathering twilight, the Ladysmith picket challenged the
approaching cavalry, and the gallant town was saved.
It is hard to say which had shown the greater endurance, the rescued
or their rescuers. The town, indefensible, lurking in a hollow under
commanding hills, had held out for 118 days. They had endured two
assaults and an incessant bombardment, to which, towards the end,
owing to the failure of heavy ammunition, they were unable to make any
adequate reply. It was calculated that 16, 000 shells had fallen within
the town. In two successful sorties they had destroyed three of the
enemy's heavy guns. They had been pressed by hunger, horseflesh was
already running short, and they had been decimated by disease. More than
2000 cases of enteric and dysentery had been in hospital at one time,
and the total number of admissions had been nearly as great as the total
number of the garrison. One-tenth of the men had actually died of wounds
or disease. Ragged, bootless, and emaciated, there still lurked in the
gaunt soldiers the martial spirit of warriors. On the day after their
relief 2000 of them set forth to pursue the Boers. One who helped to
lead them has left it on record that the most piteous sight that he has
ever seen was these wasted men, stooping under their rifles and gasping
with the pressure of their accoutrements, as they staggered after
their retreating enemy. A Verestschagen might find a subject these 2000
indomitable men with their emaciated horses pursuing a formidable foe.
It is God's mercy they failed to overtake them.
If the record of the besieged force was great, that of the relieving
army was no less so. Through the blackest depths of despondency and
failure they had struggled to absolute success. At Colenso they had lost
1200 men, at Spion Kop 1700, at Vaalkranz 400, and now, in this last
long-drawn effort, 1600 more. Their total losses were over 5000 men,
more than 20 per cent of the whole army. Some particular regiments had
suffered horribly. The Dublin and Inniskilling Fusiliers headed the
roll of honour with only five officers and 40 per cent of the men left
standing. Next to them the Lancashire Fusiliers and the Royal Lancasters
had been the hardest hit. It speaks well for Buller's power of winning
and holding the confidence of his men that in the face of repulse after
repulse the soldiers still went into battle as steadily as ever under
his command.
On March 3rd Buller's force entered Ladysmith in state between the lines
of the defenders. For their heroism the Dublin Fusiliers were put in the
van of the procession, and it is told how, as the soldiers who lined
the streets saw the five officers and small clump of men, the remains of
what had been a strong battalion, realising, for the first time perhaps,
what their relief had cost, many sobbed like children. With cheer after
cheer the stream of brave men flowed for hours between banks formed by
men as brave. But for the purposes of war the garrison was useless. A
month of rest and food would be necessary before they could be ready to
take the field once more.
So the riddle of the Tugela had at last been solved. Even now, with all
the light which has been shed upon the matter, it is hard to apportion
praise and blame. To the cheerful optimism of Symons must be laid some
of the blame of the original entanglement; but man is mortal, and he
laid down his life for his mistake. White, who had been but a week
in the country, could not, if he would, alter the main facts of the
military situation. He did his best, committed one or two errors, did
brilliantly on one or two points, and finally conducted the defence
with a tenacity and a gallantry which are above all praise. It did not,
fortunately, develop into an absolutely desperate affair, like Massena's
defence of Genoa, but a few more weeks would have made it a military
tragedy. He was fortunate in the troops whom he commanded--half of
them old soldiers from India--[Footnote: An officer in high command in
Ladysmith has told me, as an illustration of the nerve and discipline of
the troops, that though false alarms in the Boer trenches were matters
of continual occurrence from the beginning to the end of the siege,
there was not one single occasion when the British outposts made a
mistake.]--and exceedingly fortunate in his officers, French (in the
operations before the siege), Archibald Hunter, Ian Hamilton, Hedworth
Lambton, Dick-Cunyngham, Knox, De Courcy Hamilton, and all the other
good men and true who stood (as long as they could stand) by his side.
Above all, he was fortunate in his commissariat officers, and it was in
the offices of Colonels Ward and Stoneman as much as in the trenches and
sangars of Caesar's Camp that the siege was won.
Buller, like White, had to take the situation as he found it. It is well
known that his own belief was that the line of the Tugela was the
true defence of Natal. When he reached Africa, Ladysmith was already
beleaguered, and he, with his troops, had to abandon the scheme of
direct invasion and to hurry to extricate White's division. Whether they
might not have been more rapidly extricated by keeping to the original
plan is a question which will long furnish an excellent subject for
military debate. Had Buller in November known that Ladysmith was capable
of holding out until March, is it conceivable that he, with his whole
army corps and as many more troops as he cared to summon from England,
would not have made such an advance in four months through the Free
State as would necessitate the abandonment of the sieges both of
Kimberley and of Ladysmith? If the Boers persisted in these sieges they
could not possibly place more than 20,000 men on the Orange River to
face 60, 000 whom Buller could have had there by the first week in
December. Methuen's force, French's force, Gatacre's force, and the
Natal force, with the exception of garrisons for Pietermaritzburg and
Durban, would have assembled, with a reserve of another sixty thousand
men in the colony or on the sea ready to fill the gaps in his advance.
Moving over a flat country with plenty of flanking room, it is probable
that he would have been in Bloemfontein by Christmas and at the Vaal
River late in January. What could the Boers do then? They might remain
before Ladysmith, and learn that their capital and their gold mines had
been taken in their absence. Or they might abandon the siege and trek
back to defend their own homes. This, as it appears to a civilian
critic, would have been the least expensive means of fighting them; but
after all the strain had to come somewhere, and the long struggle of
Ladysmith may have meant a more certain and complete collapse in the
future. At least, by the plan actually adopted we saved Natal from total
devastation, and that must count against a great deal.
Having taken his line, Buller set about his task in a slow, deliberate,
but pertinacious fashion. It cannot be denied, however, that the
pertinacity was largely due to the stiffening counsel of Roberts and the
soldierly firmness of White who refused to acquiesce in the suggestion
of surrender. Let it be acknowledged that Buller's was the hardest
problem of the war, and that he solved it. The mere acknowledgment
goes far to soften criticism. But the singular thing is that in his
proceedings he showed qualities which had not been generally attributed
to him, and was wanting in those very points which the public had
imagined to be characteristic of him. He had gone out with the
reputation of a downright John Bull fighter, who would take punishment
or give it, but slog his way through without wincing. There was no
reason for attributing any particular strategical ability to him. But
as a matter of fact, setting the Colenso attempt aside, the crossing for
the Spion Kop enterprise, the withdrawal of the compromised army, the
Vaalkranz crossing with the clever feint upon Brakfontein, the final
operations, and especially the complete change of front after the
third day of Pieters, were strategical movements largely conceived
and admirably carried out. On the other hand, a hesitation in pushing
onwards, and a disinclination to take a risk or to endure heavy
punishment, even in the case of temporary failure, were consistent
characteristics of his generalship. The Vaalkranz operations are
particularly difficult to defend from the charge of having been
needlessly slow and half-hearted. This 'saturnine fighter,' as he had
been called, proved to be exceedingly sensitive about the lives of his
men--an admirable quality in itself, but there are occasions when to
spare them to-day is to needlessly imperil them tomorrow. The victory
was his, and yet in the very moment of it he displayed the qualities
which marred him. With two cavalry brigades in hand he did not push
the pursuit of the routed Boers with their guns and endless streams of
wagons. It is true that he might have lost heavily, but it is true also
that a success might have ended the Boer invasion of Natal, and the
lives of our troopers would be well spent in such a venture. If cavalry
is not to be used in pursuing a retiring enemy encumbered with much
baggage, then its day is indeed past.
The relief of Ladysmith stirred the people of the Empire as nothing,
save perhaps the subsequent relief of Mafeking, has done during our
generation. Even sober unemotional London found its soul for once and
fluttered with joy. Men, women, and children, rich and poor, clubman and
cabman, joined in the universal delight. The thought of our garrison,
of their privations, of our impotence to relieve them, of the impending
humiliation to them and to us, had lain dark for many months across our
spirits. It had weighed upon us, until the subject, though ever present
in our thoughts, was too painful for general talk. And now, in an
instant, the shadow was lifted. The outburst of rejoicing was not
a triumph over the gallant Boers. But it was our own escape from
humiliation, the knowledge that the blood of our sons had not been shed
in vain, above all the conviction that the darkest hour had now passed
and that the light of peace was dimly breaking far away--that was why
London rang with joy bells that March morning, and why those bells
echoed back from every town and hamlet, in tropical sun and in Arctic
snow, over which the flag of Britain waved.