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[Illustration: Badge specially made for the Editors of THE FRIEND.]
[Illustration: The editors at Work.
Photographed by H. Mackern, of "Scribner's Magazine."]
WAR'S BRIGHTER SIDE
The Story of =THE FRIEND= Newspaper
Edited by the Correspondents
With Lord Roberts's Forces,
March-April, 1900 + + + +
By
JULIAN RALPH
(_One of the Editors of_ "THE FRIEND")
Author of "Towards Pretoria," "At Pretoria," "Alone in
China," etc., etc.
With 15 Illustrations
London
C. Arthur Pearson, Ltd.
Henrietta Street
1901
[_The coloured reproductions on the cover of this book are
fac-similes of a badge specially made for the Editors of_
THE FRIEND.]
With his Kind Permission
this History of his
Unique and Historic
Experiment in Publishing a Newspaper
for an Army in the Field
is Dedicated to
FIELD MARSHAL, EARL ROBERTS, V.C., K.G., K.P., ETC.
COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF.
LETTER FROM EARL ROBERTS TO LORD STANLEY REGARDING "THE FRIEND."
BLOEMFONTEIN,
_April 13th, 1900_.
DEAR LORD STANLEY,--I understand that on Monday next, the
16th inst., THE FRIEND will come under the new management,
and it will, I hope, continue to thrive now that it has been
established on a sound basis.
The Army owe a deep debt of gratitude to the gentlemen who
so kindly came forward, and who have given their services
gratuitously in the management of the paper.
That their labours are appreciated is evident from the
eagerness with which the paper is purchased by officers and
soldiers alike.
On behalf, therefore, of the troops, I would ask you to
convey my best thanks to all who have contributed towards
making the paper such a success, especially to the following
gentlemen, Messrs. Landon, Ralph, Gwynne, and Buxton.
Believe me to be
Yours very truly,
ROBERTS.
PREFACE
Lord Roberts is the first General of whom I have heard who ever
recognised and acknowledged the Value and Power of the Press by
establishing a Newspaper as a source of Entertainment and Information
for an Army in the Field, and as a Medium for conveying such Arguments
and Appeals as he wished to make to the Enemy. This he did, as one
might say, the instant he conquered the first of the Boer Capitals,
almost simultaneously with his appointment of a Military Governor and
a Provost Marshal, and the establishment of a Police Force.
The story of Lord Roberts's experiment and the Experiences of the Men
he selected for his Editors must be especially attractive to all
Journalists, and they will find here set forth whatever is of purely
professional interest to them. To those details I have added the most
Notable Contributions with which each of the twenty-seven Numbers of
THE FRIEND was made up, and here this narrow limitation of the
interest in the book is broken wide asunder. These newspaper articles
are mainly the Works of Fighting Men, at rest between Battles, and of
others who were at the moment going to or coming from Engagements.
They hold the Mirror up to the Life of an Army, in Camp, on the
March, in Battle, and in a Conquered Capital.
In these Letters, Sketches, and Verses the Reader lives with the
Soldiers in camp. He sees what they work and play at. He hears of
their Deeds of Daring, Mishaps and Adventures. He catches their
strange Lingo. He observes what they Eat--(and what they do not get to
Drink). He notes how they speak of their Faring in Battle. In all the
Wealth of English Literature I know of no such a Mirror-reflection and
a Phonograph-echoing of Soldier Life as is here.
Generals, Colonels--in fact, men of every rank and grade contributed
their shares; of every rank down to "Tommy Atkins," who, in general,
sings his Songs in the background, in verse, like the Chorus in an
Ancient Drama.
To these features I have added many Personal Recollections, as well as
Anecdotes and Stories told by or about the men around me in camp, and
in the conquered Capital of the Free State, with Notes and Comments
upon a wide variety of subjects suggested during the editing of the
other Matter here collated.
In the Proclamations of the wise and great Field-Marshal, and the
Notices, Ordinances, and Camp Orders of his Lieutenants set to rule
Bloemfontein after its capture by us, are to be found an account of
the Methods by which a Triumphant Army establishes its own new rule in
a Conquered City and Territory. This peculiar and most interesting
history runs, like a steel thread, through the book from beginning to
end. I do not know where else it is told, or even hinted at, in what
has thus far been written of the War.
It was because each of the chief elements that make up this book of
THE FRIEND is equally fresh and impossible to obtain elsewhere, that I
undertook the labour of compiling this work.
It was my first intention to reproduce all the Reading Matter which
appeared in THE FRIEND during the period in which we managed it (March
16th to April 16, 1900) but this would have formed a ponderous book of
270,000 words--without including the Military Proclamations. Such a
work could not be produced for a price at the command of the general
reader, and, furthermore, the general reader would have found it too
tiresome to work his way through the many Technical Articles and
others which time has rendered stale or of little interest. Therefore,
not without regret, I felt obliged to select, as my best judgment
prompted, the matter of the Most Peculiar character, or of Widest
Interest for reproduction here.
As the former Editors of THE FRIEND have now formed themselves into an
Order to which none is eligible except he or she who tells the truth
without fear of consequences, the reader may as well prepare himself
to meet with that rare quality in some of the pages that follow.
THE AUTHOR.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. THE BIRTH OF "THE FRIEND" 1
II. ITS INFANCY 12
III. WE PUBLISH A "CURIO" NUMBER 28
IV. WE BEGIN TO FEEL AT HOME 41
V. TREATING OF MANY PEOPLES 63
VI. OURS WAS NO BED OF ROSES 82
VII. RUDYARD KIPLING, ASSOCIATE EDITOR 99
VIII. LORD ROBERTS'S HEADQUARTERS 112
IX. "OH, HOW GOOD IT WAS!" 131
X. I VISIT MISS BLOEMFONTEIN 160
XI. OUR VERY MIXED PUBLIC 182
XII. "VIVE LA COMPAGNIE" 200
XIII. WE LEAVE "THE FRIEND" TO SEE A FIGHT 221
XIV. MY HORSE OFFERED FOR SALE 237
XV. GENERAL POLE-CAREW IN WAR 248
XVI. OUR LOSS AND THE ARMY'S 258
XVII. THE CENSOR AS AN EDITOR 268
XVIII. OUR CHRISTENING COMPETITION 274
XIX. FOOLED BY THE BOERS 283
XX. DR. A. CONAN DOYLE CONTRIBUTES 305
XXI. LOOT AND LURID CRAZES 318
XXII. IN THE SHADOW OF SANNA'S POST 330
XXIII. A COMPLETE NEWSPAPER 346
XXIV. FALSE HEARTS AROUND US 350
XXV. THE END APPROACHES 361
XXVI. WANTED, A MILLIONAIRE 371
XXVII. A NOTABLE NUMBER 385
XXVIII. OUR "FRIEND" NO LONGER 398
XXIX. ADIEU TO "THE FRIEND" 410
INDEX 417
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE EDITORS AT WORK _Frontispiece_
JULIAN RALPH _Facing page_ 42
A CORRECTED "PROOF" BY RUDYARD KIPLING " " 99
EARL ROBERTS " " 112
MISS BLOEMFONTEIN " " 160
MENU OF A NOTABLE DINNER " " 202
JULIAN RALPH AND HIS HORSE "RATTLESNAKE" " " 238
LORD STANLEY AT WORK AS CENSOR " " 268
A PAGE OF CONAN DOYLE'S "COPY" " " 306
THE CAPITULATION OF BLOEMFONTEIN " " 320
THE FRONT PAGE OF "THE FRIEND" OF APRIL 14, 1900 " " 388
WAR'S BRIGHTER SIDE
CHAPTER I
THE BIRTH OF "THE FRIEND"
_Showing how it was Fathered by a Field Marshal, sponsored
by a Duke and three Lords, and given over to four
certificated male nurses._
We reached Bloemfontein with men who had done extraordinary marching,
fighting, and feats of exposure and privation. Some of the troops,
notably the Guards, had walked more than thirty (more than forty, if I
am not mistaken) miles in one of the three days' continuous marching.
Many had fought at Jacobsdahl, Paardeberg, and Driefontein, not to
speak of lesser actions at Waterval Drift and Poplar Grove.
During at least the last week of this almost unprecedented military
performance the army had been reduced to less than half rations. We
were very short of food for beasts as well as men. We had lost a large
number of transport waggons, with their contents and the animals that
drew them, and we had put the torch to two great hillocks of food
which we could not take with us beyond Paardeberg. All our four-footed
helpers were spent, hundreds of horses were ill, hundreds of bodies
of others were lying along our wake upon the veldt, with flocks of
glutted, yet still gluttonous, aasvogels feeding upon their flesh.
Worse, far worse than all else combined, the dreadful microbes of
enteric had entered the blood of thousands of the soldiers, who had
found no other water to drink than that of the pestilential Modder
River which carried along and absorbed the bodies of men and horses as
well as the filth of the camps of both the Boers and ourselves.
We had done as the Boers had said we never would do--as only one man
of their forces (Villebois-Mareuil) had foreseen that a great general
like Lord Roberts must be certain to do: we had left the railway and
swept across the open veldt for one hundred miles, from Jacobsdahl and
Kimberley to Bloemfontein. For warning his brusque and opinionated
commander-in-chief, Cronje, that we would do this, Cronje insulted the
brilliant Frenchman grossly, and bade him keep his idiotic notions to
himself. But we had done it, and Cronje had lost his army and his
liberty for failing to heed the warning. At Bloemfontein we came upon
the steam highway once more, but to the south of Bloemfontein it was
wrecked at many points, while to the northward it was in the enemy's
country and control.
There was therefore nothing for us but to rest. Yet how heroically we
had worked to make rest necessary! How well we had earned the right to
enjoy rest if we had been of the temper to desire it! In one month
under the great Field Marshal we had gone further and accomplished
more than all the other British armies had done in nearly six months.
We had won over the eagles of victory to perch upon our standards. We
had freed Ladysmith and Kimberley, drawn the Boers away from the Cape
Colony border, captured the best army and leading general of our foes,
and were encamped around Bloemfontein with President Steyn's Residency
in use as our headquarters.
The manner in which four of the war correspondents first learned that
we were not to push on to the northward in an effort to seize the
Transvaal capital, but were to halt at Bloemfontein, was most
peculiar. It was so peculiar as to have led to the establishment of
the first newspaper ever conducted by an army for an army on the field
of battle. It was so unique an episode that this volume is published
to commemorate and explain it; and I trust that no one who reads this
will decide that it was not an episode worthy of an even more marked,
substantial, and valuable memorial than I possess the talent to
construct.
We entered Bloemfontein on March 13th. Two days later I was asked by
Mr. F. W. Buxton, of the _Johannesburg Star_, to attend a meeting of
some other correspondents and Lord Stanley in Lord Stanley's office on
that day. I had caught up with the army by a dangerous journey with
only two companions across the veldt from Kimberley, where an injury
to my leg had laid me up. I had reported myself to Lord Stanley, the
censor. I had previously carried on some correspondence with him, but
our personal acquaintance had not been of more than five minutes'
duration. I could not, therefore, know at that time that he was to
prove himself the most competent of all the censors appointed to
supervise the work of us correspondents. In saying that he was the
"most competent" I mean that he ranked above all the others in every
quality which goes to make up fitness for this unceasing and exacting
work. He had quick intelligence, great breadth of judgment, unfailing
courtesy, unbroken patience, and all the modesty of a truly able man.
Hardly can the average reader estimate the degree of satisfaction with
which we correspondents came quickly to realise the admirable
qualities of this first and only fair and considerate censor that most
of us had known in the war. At one place we knew a censor who read the
letters which came to officers and privates from their wives in
England, and who used to regale his chance acquaintances with
comparisons between the sterling virtues and deep affection of the
letters to Tommy, and the colder, more selfish, and even querulous
messages of the wives of officers.
At another place we had a censor who obliged us to hand to him our
letters to our wives and sweethearts unsealed, and in one case this
censor kept for twenty-four hours a letter I had written to my family.
Still another censor showered his contempt upon certain correspondents
who, in every way which goes to make up refinement, self-respect, and
dignity, were many times better men than he. It amused him to take the
despatches of a Colonial lad, who was doing his best to enter upon an
honourable career, and throw them in his waste basket daily for ten
days without informing the youth of their fate. It pleased him to
insult me by telling me that the only message I could send to England
must be a description of a sandstorm; while to Mr. E. F. Knight, a man
Lord Methuen said he "was proud to have with his army," this censor
said, "There is only one thing I will allow you to write--that is, a
description of a new Union Jack which has just been run up over the
headquarters."
With such ill-chosen, mistaken men had we undergone experiences, and
now, at last, we met with Lord Stanley, who had the most intense likes
and dislikes for those around him, yet never let these hinder or
temper his unvarying fairness; who was as firm as iron and yet always
gentle; a stout, strong, stalwart man in build, hearty and kindly in
manner; a man who took command as easily and exercised it as smoothly
as if he had been a general at birth.
I speak of him at some length not merely because his case proves that
the one well-equipped censor appointed in the armies on the west side
of the continent was a civilian, and not only because this one
competent censor gave equally complete satisfaction to both the Army
and the Press, but because he assumed a conspicuous and important part
in the story I am telling.
His office was as nearly literally a hole in a wall as a room in a
house could well be. It was in the corner of the Free State Post
Office building, facing the great central square of dirt, in the
middle of which stood the market, under whose open shed the mounted
men of the City Imperial Volunteers lived among their saddles and
bridles, and slept on the tables of the greengrocers, whose place this
once had been. On the Post Office side of the square was the Free
State Hotel, the best in the town. On the opposite side, an eighth of
a mile away, was the Club. Between the two ends ran a double row of
such shops as one looks for in a small village, and behind one of
these was the office of a newspaper called _The Friend of the Free
State_.
Lord Stanley's office was a wretched poke-hole of a room. It boasted a
door with glass panels and no window. Its floor was of bare boards.
Its walls were partly made of soiled plaster and partly of bare
boards. Opposite the door, in the corner, stood a kitchen table which
was never used, and in the other dark end of the room was another
kitchen table, behind which, on a kitchen chair, the ex-Guardsman and
Whip of the Unionist Party sat nearly all day, and some hours of every
evening, with one hand full of manuscript and the other holding the
little triangular stamp with which he printed the sign manual of his
approval upon nearly every despatch which was written by those
correspondents who kept within the law governing the cabling of news
to their journals. A kerosene lamp, an inkpot and pen, and a litter of
papers were the other appointments of the room. The censor was clad in
khaki like all the rest of us, but the collar of his tunic bore on
each side the short bit of red cloth which marked him as a staff
officer.
To this office, at the censor's invitation, came Perceval Landon,
correspondent of the _Times_, H. A. Gwynne, of Reuter's Agency, F. W.
Buxton, of the _Johannesburg Star_, and myself.
"Gentlemen," said Lord Stanley after the door had been closed and
locked to keep out the current of "Tommies" with telegrams which
flowed in and eddied before the desk all day, "Lord Roberts wants to
have a daily newspaper published for the entertainment and information
of the Army while we are here. I may tell you that we are likely to
stay here four weeks. You four are asked to undertake the work of
bringing out the newspaper. Will you do it?"
Three of us did not clearly see how we could undertake so laborious
and exacting a task and still do justice to our newspapers at home;
nevertheless, the censor's words had been, "Lord Roberts wants this."
"We must do it if Lord Roberts desires it," was the reply of one of
us. The rest nodded acquiescence, but said nothing.
"I am very glad," the censor replied.
Mr. Buxton, who knew South Africa and its Press very well, appeared to
have devoted some attention to the matter earlier in the day. From him
and from the censor we learned that two daily newspapers had been
published in Bloemfontein up to the time that we took possession of
the town. One was the _Express_, the property of the widow of one
Borckenhagen--a Boer organ of the most pronounced type, and notorious
for the virulence of its attacks upon the British, for its lying
reports, and its mischievous influence. That paper had been stopped by
Lord Roberts, and its machinery, type, and all else belonging to it
were for us to do with as we pleased.
The other paper was the little _Friend of the Free State_, owned, as I
understand, by an Englishman named Barlow, who was out of the country
and had left the property in the care of his son. This younger Barlow
had not conducted the paper in such a spirit toward us as one would
have looked for from a man of English blood; but, either for good
cause, worldly interests, or wholly despicable reasons, there was so
much disloyalty and so much more of fence straddling throughout South
Africa that a very lenient view was taken of this case, and we were
asked to find out what sum of money would satisfy Barlow for the loss
of income from his paper while we conducted it. He was to be told
that he could not be permitted to continue his editorship, and that
therefore it was necessary to settle on some figure covering any
shrinkage that might occur in his customary profits while the
newspaper was in our charge.
Mr. Buxton was appointed to confer with Barlow, and in a few hours we
all met again to hear that the dethroned editor would be satisfied
with a guarantee of L200, or L50 a week during the month of our
editorship.
Mr. Landon had already approached Mr. Gwynne and myself with a
proposition that we should offer to make good any losses that might
occur during our management; but other ideas prevailed.
"No," said the censor, "you cannot be allowed to lose anything by your
kindness. Two hundred pounds will be the utmost cost, eh? Well, I
think that Westminster, Dudley, and I, can raise that between us."
We held our breaths for a moment as he said this, for it flashed upon
us that the heir of Lord Derby, the owner of the great Dudley estates,
and the greatest landlord of London, were to be our backers, that they
were high up among the richest men of England, and that one of them
was saying he was hopeful that among all three two hundred pounds
might not prove an impossible sum to raise.
"Yes, that's all right," Lord Stanley repeated; "I think that Dudley,
Westminster, and I can manage it."
The reader will not be prepared to hear that anything funnier than
that could grow out of this situation. But it was to be so. Weeks
after our singular editorial experience ended I received, while in
Capetown, a letter from an interested Afrikander asking me whether I
thought the three men who guaranteed Barlow against a loss of profits
from his paper were responsible men, and Barlow would be likely to get
his money.
I went away to nurse my injured leg, and the other editors went their
ways to arrange for getting out a new paper, which all of us agreed
should be christened with the now historic name of THE FRIEND. While
we are thus separated from them let me draw a pen picture of each.
Perceval Landon, representing the _Times_, is a university man, who
has been admitted to the bar, and who took up the work of a war
correspondent from an Englishman's love of adventure, danger, and
excitement. It can be nothing but his English blood that prompted him
to this course, for in mind and temperament, tastes and
qualifications, he is at once a scholar and a poet rather than a man
of violent action. Had the _Times_ so desired he would have charmed
the public with letters from the front as human and picturesque in
subject and treatment as any that were sent to London. His charms of
manner and of mind caused his companionship to be sought by the most
distinguished and the most polished men in the army, and all were
deeply sorry when, at the close of the army's stay in Bloemfontein,
illness forced him to return to London, though not until he had served
in the war as long as any man at that time on the west side of the
continent.
Mr. H. A. Gwynne, representing Reuter's Agency, is a veteran war
correspondent, though a young man otherwise. He is Landon's
diametrical opposite, being above all else a man of action and a born
soldier. As an author and as a mountain climber of distinction he was
known before he adopted the profession of journalism and took part in,
I think, ten campaigns: The Turko-Greek, the Omdurman campaign, the
Egyptian campaign preceding it, and others. It was Gwynne who, with
Mr. George W. Steevens, received the surrender of the town of Volo
from the Greek authorities before the Turks entered the town. Mr.
Gwynne has superabundant strength, health, and spirits, loves
soldiering and adventure, and is so shrewd in his judgment of men, and
practised in his observations of war, that more than one general made
it a practice to consult him upon what he knew and saw during the
South African campaign. How well he can write the pages of THE FRIEND
attest.
Mr. Buxton is a specialist in the interests which are uppermost in
Johannesburg, where, as a member of the staff of the _Star_, and as a
citizen of consequence, he has made himself intimately known to the
forceful men of South Africa, and has mastered the problems that lie
before the British in reconstructing the government and welding the
two leading races together. He had accompanied Lord Methuen's
unfortunate army from its start to its rescue by Lord Roberts, and
during all that time his knowledge of the country and of the Boers
might have been turned to good account had he been consulted. It was
fitting that the staff of the newspaper should have had upon it a
representative colonial of English stock, yet of long and masterful
local experience such as Mr. Buxton.
For a striking picture of the minor characters who figured as our
foremen and compositors in the newspaper office the reader will do
well to read Rudyard Kipling's "A Burgher of the Free State," one of
the short stories he wrote after his return from South Africa in the
early summer of 1900.
It showed us associates of the master storyteller how instantly,
broadly, and accurately he is able to imbibe and absorb the colour and
spirit, and even the most minor accessories of any new and strong
situation around him. It will show the reader better than any amount
of another man's writing the characters of our helpmeets and
neighbours, and the atmosphere in which they moved.
CHAPTER II
ITS INFANCY
_A little Thing, puling Great Promises in its Nurses' Arms._
On March 16, 1900, there glimmered (it cannot be said to have flashed)
upon the Army and the half-wondering, half-treacherous population of
Bloemfontein, the first number of THE FRIEND. It was produced in the
office of the former _Friend of the Free State_--an office that had
the appearance of having been arranged out of a dust-heap, and stocked
with machinery, type, and furniture that had been originally bought at
second-hand and left to itself through fifty years of frequent
dust-storms.
Everything in it was either the colour of dirt or the tone of
type-dust--everything, including the window-panes and the printers. Of
the latter we never knew the number, names, or characters. Of two men
whom we got to know one was a gnomish figure who only now and then
appeared at large out upon the uncharted floor of the composing-room,
and he was elderly and silent--a man grown mechanical, and now making
but a feeble fight against the dirt and type-dust which was slowly
covering him in what was apparently to be another such upright tomb
as held the last of the wife of Lot. He sometimes came into the
editorial dust-hole--if we yelled and stamped our loudest and our
longest. He came wearily and softly, heard our orders, and vanished in
the type-dust as we used to see our army friends at Modder step out of
our tents into a dust-devil and disappear on the ocean of veldt and at
high noon.
The other printers lived in the little side alleys between the rows of
type-cases. They were evidently drawn there by the feeble, straggling
light that still shone faintly through the filth upon the
window-panes. I judged that they were older than the foreman, and too
feeble, too nearly entombed by the dirt, to be able to go out upon the
floor. We only got glimpses of them, and never heard one speak.
Out in the back yard, behind Barlow's stationery shop, the sun glared
fierce and hot upon a strip of desert ground, a blue gum-tree, and a
preternatural boy. He lived out there, refusing to be drawn into the
dust-heap until the awful sentence of serving as a printer should, at
last, be read out to him. We had a fancy that each of the old men
inside had begun like that boy, clinging as long as possible to the
region of air and light, that each in his turn had been sucked in at
last, and that it was this last boy who went in at lunch time and led
the old fellows out of their solitary, silent cells, and gave each a
push in the back to start them toward their homes.
How Messrs. Gwynne, Buxton, and Landon managed to get out the first
paper, which they forgot to mark with what a great man once said were
"the saddest words ever seen in print," that is to say, "Vol. I., No.
1," I never asked them, though I wondered. They did produce it,
however, and called it
Playing Cards. } THE FRIEND. { Cue Tips and
All Qualities at } { Wafers
Barlow's. } 3d. 3d. { at Barlow's.
--------------------------------------------------
VOL. IV. No. 1,027.
--------------------------------------------------
Its sheet was of the size of two copies of the _Spectator_ laid side
by side. Each of its four pages measured twenty inches long by fifteen
wide. Far more striking than its title was this sentence, in blackest
type: "If you once use Vereeniging coal you will never use any other."
All the advertisements, except the very many scattered about for
Barlow's stationery business, and for which I hope he was made to pay
at the highest rates, were old notices carried on from the days of
Boer rule.
Upon the second page two advertisements were brand new. They were
proclamations signed "By order, G. T. Pretyman, Major-General,
Military Commandant, Bloemfontein." One was in the Taal language, the
other was in English, and both announced that a market would be held
daily, near the town, for the sale of such local produce as butter,
eggs, milk, poultry, and vegetables. The prices to be charged were
laid down by this sapient and enterprising general, who declared eggs
to be worth two shillings a dozen, milk fivepence a bottle, turkeys
five shillings and sixpence and higher, butter two shillings a pound,
&c. The English proclamation was headed "Notice." The Dutch copy bore
the title "Kennisgeving," and was signed, "Bij order, G. T. Pretyman,
Majoor-Generaal, Krijgs-Kommandant van Bloemfontein."
On the third, or editorial page, was another military notice entitled
"Army Orders," which I reprint in full, as showing how almost
instantly Lord Roberts established his own rule in the conquered
capital. General Pretyman's market notice was dated the day we took
the town, and we knew that on that day a local police force was
established, headquarters and quarters for all the branches of the
military rule were at once set up, and here on the 15th there had been
found time to arrange and prepare for publication a directory of the
new arrangements.
* * * * *
ARMY ORDERS--SOUTH AFRICA
ARMY HEADQUARTERS, GOVERNMENT HOUSE,
BLOEMFONTEIN, _March 15, 1900_.
I. _Civil Population to be unmolested._
It being desirable and in the interest of both the British Government
and the inhabitants of this country that all residents should be
assured that so long as they remain peaceably disposed their civil
rights and property will be respected, it is strictly forbidden that
any private property should be compulsorily taken possession of by
other than the authorised Supply Officers.
All articles required by the troops must be obtained and paid for in
the ordinary way, and no trespassing or interference with the
inhabitants will be permitted.
These instructions apply to detached bodies of troops as well as to
the Force generally, and it is specially the duty of all officers to
put a stop to all attempts to infringe them.
By order,
J. W. KELLY,
A.-G. for C. of Staff.
* * * * *
6. _Office of Departments._
The offices of the various Departments are situated as shown below:--
Military Secretary }
Chief of Staff } At Government
G.O.C. Royal Artillery } House.
Chief Engineer }
Director of Transport }
Director of Supplies } At Government
Provost Marshal } Buildings.
P.M.O. 3, Maitland Street.
The office of the Press Censor is established next door to the
entrance to the Telegraph Office. All telegrams except official ones
must be censored. Office hours from 7 to 8 a.m., 10 a.m. to 12 noon, 3
to 5 p.m.
7. _Supply Department._
As soon as the Supply Park arrives, a Supply Depot will be established
at Mr. Beck's Store, on Baumann's Square.
8. _Divisions, Brigades, &c., where quartered._
The following units are quartered as shown below:--
CAVALRY DIVISION.
Headquarters--Club, Market Square.
1st Brigade--About 2 miles W. of town.
2nd Brigade--Bloemspruit, about 3 miles east of town.
3rd Brigade--Rustfontein, about 1 mile N. of town.
* * * * *
Mr. James Collins, under State Secretary to the late O.F.S.
Government, has been appointed Landdrost of Bloemfontein.
The period for handing in arms and ammunition by burghers and
residents of this town and district has been extended to March 26th.
* * * * *
After a notice that Major Hamilton, the Carabineers, would like to
receive two L5 notes, a Mauser pistol, a pair of Zeiss glasses and a
grey gelding, all lost by various persons in and near the town, we
published our editorial announcement that the paper was established by
and for Lord Roberts's army:--
EDITORIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS.
The events of the last few days have rendered it expedient
that an official organ should be published in Bloemfontein
during the period of Military Governorship. With that end in
view, and also to provide for public requirements, a small
committee formed from the corps of war correspondents with
Lord Roberts's Field Force has been entrusted with the
control and management of the long-established paper
hitherto known as THE FRIEND OF THE FREE STATE.
In future this will be issued under the style and title of
THE FRIEND, and will be a daily publication, containing
military intelligence and orders for the general information
of the troops now quartered here, and other matter.
We are glad to be able to announce the immediate publication
of contributions from the pens of such well-known writers as
Rudyard Kipling, Julian Ralph, Bennet Burleigh, and other
distinguished journalists. We congratulate our readers upon
the happy chance which has enabled us to offer the public
the voluntary services of such a staff of writers as cannot
be paralleled elsewhere in South Africa.
In conclusion we wish to state briefly the simple policy
which will be adhered to in these columns.
The maintenance of British Supremacy in South Africa and
Equal Rights for all white men without respect of race or
creed.
These two principles in our opinion embody the essentials of
sound government, the prosperity of this country, and the
happiness of the people.
For the Committee of Management,
P. LANDON,
E. W. BUXTON,
H. A. GWYNNE.
* * * * *
Mr. Buxton explained to me, with unnecessary but commendable delicacy,
that only three of our four signatures were appended to this notice
because I was better known as a writer than as an editor, and it was
deemed best not to give me the double credit of serving in both
capacities.
The first editorial in this new and unique journal was entitled,
"Sulk or Duty," and was written by Mr. Buxton. It was an appeal to all
Afrikanders not to sulk, but to "buckle to the work of making their
country become what it shall be, a great and glorious home for
countless millions yet unborn." The remainder of the page was given
over to a report of the letter of Kruger and Steyn to the Marquis of
Salisbury, insisting upon the independence of the two Republics, and
Lord Salisbury's reply that his government was "not prepared to assent
to the independence of either republic." To us of the army this was
great news. It stirred the camp, and was well suited to attract the
widest attention to our journalistic enterprise. But Lord Salisbury's
answer seemed to us the only answer he could make, whereas the comment
upon it by our Colonial editor in THE FRIEND showed a feeling of
relief and of delighted surprise which was born of the bitter
disappointments the loyal men of Africa had suffered in the past.
"Now, at last, we know the foundation upon which we shall build. The
unhappy issue of Lord Wolseley's promise at Pretoria in 1879 is still
fresh in our minds ... late, indeed, but still, to the letter, that
solemn undertaking shall be fulfilled. At last we see the one obstacle
vanish that has for these long years stood between South Africa and
her prosperity."
Whoever can feel the spirit of that cry of satisfaction needs not to
be told how just and necessary was the war we were waging. Few of us
in the army could probe the sources of the war to their depths.
Comparatively few men in England thoroughly grasped the situation. It
is all revealed in this shout by Mr. Buxton in THE FRIEND. The
long-protracted feud between the two races, the injustice of Boer
rule, the sufferings of the British, the threats of the semi-civilised
men in power, the past troubles all ending in broken promises or
shameful neglect by the British Government--these are all apparent in
that cry of delight. The war had not produced such satisfaction. There
had been war before, and nothing but humiliation of the loyal
Uitlander had come of it. But a decided, firm declaration that the war
could only end in British sovereignty--that was news that thrilled the
heart of every Anglo-Saxon colonial in the republics and the adjacent
colonies.
Other articles and official notices of the first interest or
importance were as follows:--
THE HUMOROUS SIDE OF THE CAMPAIGN.
War is grim and fearsome and horrid as we know, or rather as
we are being continually told, but nobody seems to have
noticed that there is a humorous side to it, and sometimes
the spectre Death wears the cap and bells. Up to the present
the campaign has not been without its little amusing
incidents. In the camp they have been quite numerous, and
even on the battlefield itself they have not been
unfrequent. The story of a private at Paardeberg who lay
behind one of those ever-to-be-blessed antheaps, and
contemplating a shattered tibia, exclaimed, addressing the
injured member, "Well, you ain't done me badly after all.
You 'elped to carry me 'ere, and now you've got me a life
pension and free baccy from the parson," has the merit of
being true. One cannot refrain a smile at the soliloquy of
another private who wished to exhibit a bullet-riddled
helmet to his friends at home. He was firing from behind a
big boulder on which he placed his helmet. The inevitable
shower of bullets followed, but, as has been so often the
case with Boer marksmen, not a single one touched the
helmet, but one "fetched" its owner in the shoulder,
whereupon he took the helmet from its exposed position, and,
looking at his bleeding shoulder, remarked, "that comes of
cursed pride and nothing else."
The removal of all badges of rank from officers has been the
source of many amusing mistakes. On the march from Poplar
Grove here, it is related that a certain general officer was
returning to camp after a terribly hard, dusty, dry day. A
subaltern of the A.S.C. sat under his canvas awning, and
thus addressed this distinguished general, "Now look here,
if this happens again I'm d--d if I don't report you. For
the last two hours you have been away, and heaven knows what
the mules are up to." It is true it was dusk, but that was
hardly a sufficient excuse for mistaking General ---- for a
conductor. "I say, old cocky," was the remark made once by a
captain to a full colonel, "hadn't you better see about
getting some grub?" Apologies followed, of course.
Then who can resist laughing at the tale of woe unfolded by
one of our most distinguished correspondents who dined one
night with the ---- Guards and slept in the tent of his
host? The next morning he walked into the mess hut and sat
down to breakfast. But imagine the trembling horror which
seized hold of him when he looked round at his hosts of the
night before and failed to recognise a single one of them.
Was it a failure of memory, or was it incipient paralysis of
the brain?--it could not, of course, have been the whisky.
And so he sat in a bath of hot and cold perspiration,
thinking that the blow which had so often attacked and
destroyed fine intellects had reached his. But sudden as a
straw is whisked past the drowning man by the fast current,
so there passed through his brain one ray of hope. He
remembered the name of his host, and turning quickly to his
neighbour, fearing lest his brain might again fail him and
he should forget the name, asked, "Where is ----?" The
answer was a relief and yet a horror, "---- is having
breakfast in the mess tent of his battalion,"--and, pointing
through the door, "there it is over there." It was with
slow, sobered steps that our correspondent left the table
and made his way to the hut of his host. He had made what,
after all, was not an uncommon error, and had mistaken the
S---- Guards' hut for that of the C---- Guards.
* * * * *
FACTS AND OTHERWISE.
Mr. Arthur Barlow has resigned his position as Editor of THE FRIEND.
* * *
Original contributions and correspondence are invited from all ranks
of the Field Force.
* * *
As in all probability the territory hitherto known as the O.F.S. will
in the near future be designated by a different title, the Committee
of Management offer a prize of L5 for the best suggestion for renaming
this country.
* * * * *
CANADIANS ON MAJUBA DAY.
On the afternoon of Monday, the 26th February, the 6-in. howitzers
bombarded Gen. Cronje's laager at Paardeberg with Lyddite shells. The
effect of the salvos viewed from a distance of 3,000 yards was
terrific. What the occupants of the laager felt cannot be told, for
the reason that no truthful account is obtainable. The explosions in
appearance were not unlike the great dynamite explosion in
Johannesburg in 1896, only the great cloud of smoke was
greenish-yellow instead of grey. An air of expectancy pervaded the
British camp, every one knowing that the morrow was Majuba Day, and it
was thought that something decisive would be done. Early next morning,
about 3 o'clock, the silence of the night was broken by the softened
spit-puff sound of the Mauser rifle, and immediately after the firing
became a fierce fusillade, the sharp crack of the Lee-Metford joining
in. The crackling concert lasted about an hour, rising and falling
with sudden acute crises like a passage of Wagner's music. Bullets
were falling around the camp at distances up to 3,000 yards, from the
Boer laager, and it was evident that the firing was wild.
At first streak of dawn a ride to the advanced trenches of the
Canadians on the river bank enabled one to learn the wherefore of the
night's disturbance. The ambulance waggons were already proceeding
quickly up the south bank of the river. A pontoon ferry was plying
from bank to bank bringing across wounded Canadians, nearly all
suffering from bullet wounds, but some few had by accident been struck
by the bayonet.
The Canadians occupied trenches on the both banks of the river, and
were within about 500 yards of the enemy. On their left--that is some
distance north of the river--were the Gordons, and further to the
south the Shropshires. The orders were that the four companies of
Canadians on the north bank should advance under cover of the darkness
and try to gain the enemy's trenches, or at least get nearer. They
advanced in two lines of two companies each, the front line having
bayonets fixed and the second carrying rifles slung with picks and
shovels in their hands to dig an advanced trench, should it be thought
advisable to go right to the trenches.
When the Canadians left the Gordons were to occupy the left of their
trenches, and the Shropshires placed in advance in a position to
command the Boers, should they rise in their trenches to fire on the
Canadians. They were told to hold their fire until the Mausers first
spoke. The Canadians and Gordons were not to fire at all. The
operation was one requiring coolness, nerve, and pluck, and the
Canadians did it magnificently. They advanced as quietly as possible
about 400 yards, and then halted, the order being conveyed by pressure
of the hand from one to another. Every one thought that the second
line would now dig the trench, but another pressure ordered a further
advance. Five paces had been covered when Mauser bullets hissed past,
and the men, as ordered, fell flat, just in time to avoid the terrific
fire that was immediately poured from the Boer trenches. A minute or
two elapsed, and the order came to retire. Not a shot was fired by the
Canadians, and they quietly crept back, gaining their trenches with
comparatively little loss. Meanwhile the Shropshire men, who had
carefully taken the range and direction before dark, opened fire on
the Boers, and at the end of an hour put them to silence. A bugle
sounded "cease fire," and all was still again. That morning (Majuba
Day) Cronje surrendered.
* * * * *
PROCLAMATION
TO THE BURGHERS OF THE ORANGE FREE STATE.
The British troops under my command having entered the Orange Free
State, I feel it my duty to make known to all Burghers the cause of
our coming, as well as to do all in my power to put an end to the
devastation caused by this war, so that should they continue the war
the inhabitants of the Orange Free State may not do so ignorantly, but
with full knowledge of their responsibility before God for the lives
lost in the campaign.
Before the war began the British Government, which had always desired
and cultivated peace and friendship with the people of the Orange Free
State, gave a solemn assurance to President Steyn that if the Orange
Free State remained neutral its territory would not be invaded, and
its independence would be at all times fully respected by Her
Majesty's Government.
In spite of that declaration the Government of the Orange Free State
was guilty of a wanton and unjustifiable invasion of British
territory.
The British Government believes that this act of aggression was not
committed with the general approval and free will of a people with
whom it has lived in complete amity for so many years. It believes
that the responsibility rests wholly with the Government of the Orange
Free State, acting, not in the interests of the country, but under
mischievous influences from without. The British Government,
therefore, wishes the people of the Orange Free State to understand
that it bears them no ill-will, and, so far as is compatible with the
successful conduct of the war and the re-establishment of peace in
South Africa, it is anxious to preserve them from the evils brought
upon them by the wrongful action of their Government.
I therefore warn all Burghers to desist from any further hostility
towards Her Majesty's Government and the troops under my command, and
I undertake that any of them who may so desist and who are found
staying in their homes and quietly pursuing their ordinary occupations
will not be made to suffer in their persons or property on account of
their having taken up arms in obedience to the order of their
Government. Those, however, who oppose the forces under my command, or
furnish the enemy with supplies or information, will be dealt with
according to the customs of war.
Requisitions for food, forage, fuel, or shelter, made on the authority
of the officers in command of Her Majesty's troops, must be at once
complied with; but everything will be paid for on the spot, prices
being regulated by the local market rates. If the inhabitants of any
district refuse to comply with the demands made upon them the supplies
will be taken by force, a full receipt being given.
Should any inhabitant of the country consider that he or any member of
his household has been unjustly treated by any officer, soldier, or
civilian attached to the British Army he should submit his complaint,
either personally or in writing, to my Headquarters or to the
Headquarters of the nearest General Officer. Should the complaint on
enquiry be substantiated, redress will be given.
Orders have been issued by me prohibiting soldiers from entering
private houses or molesting the civil population on any pretext
whatever, and every precaution has been taken against injury to
property on the part of any person belonging to, or connected with,
the Army.
ROBERTS,
Field Marshal,
Commanding-in-Chief, South Africa.
CHAPTER III
WE PUBLISH A "CURIO" NUMBER
_Also a Kipling Poem, a Bogus Love-letter, and other
Novelties._
Cue Tips and } THE FRIEND. { Playing Cards.
Wafers } { All Qualities at
at Barlow's. } 3d. 3d. { Barlow's.
_(Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts' Force.)_
The above was hereafter to be the wording of the full title of the new
paper. It was again of the small size, necessitated by the infirm and
petty possibilities of the dust-heap in which it was produced.
In this second number appeared a verse of a poem by Rudyard Kipling,
who, unknown to us and unsuspected by himself, was soon to be so
closely connected with our enterprise. As soon as we agreed to take
control of the new paper, Mr. Landon had wired the news to Mr.
Kipling, then in Capetown, with a request for a contribution for the
first number. The fact that the poetic reply reached Bloemfontein
twenty-four hours later was a matter of delight and surprise to all of
us, for the chained lightning of the wired highway of correspondence
loses its chief characteristic of speed where the military make first
use of it in time of war.
I should not like even to imagine the disgust with which some of the
lower order of censors, at terminal and junctional points, viewed this
bit of poetry as it crawled along and they were called upon to approve
it, perhaps, as "unseditious matter not calculated to give information
to the enemy." But then I do not like to think of that breed of
censors under any circumstances. It wrinkles my temper.
Mr. Landon's journalistic enterprise not only turned the eyes of all
the Kipling collectors of the world upon our newspaper, but, because
our printers left the date line "March 16" unaltered on an inside page
of this number of the 17th, that issue became a curio among our
readers. On the next day copies of the first hundred papers, which
were issued before the mistake was noticed, fetched five shillings
each. Within a month their price was twenty-five shillings. But that
is only a twentieth part of what an odd and not specially
distinguished number of THE FRIEND sold for at a bazaar in London last
summer (1900).
Mr. Landon wrote a notable and brilliant editorial on "The Collapse of
the Rebellion"; General Smith-Dorrien replied to the remarks about the
Canadians at Paardeberg in the previous day's issue; Lord Roberts's
congratulation to the Army was published in this number; and there
also appeared my "love letter to Miss Bloemfontein."
As this love-correspondence attracted great interest then and was
peculiar in its commencement, continuation, and end, I will tell,
briefly, what the facts are concerning it. I was invalided and
confined to my bedroom in the Free State Hotel, and, being advertised
as a contributor, bethought me that it would be a graceful and
pleasant thing to act as spokesman for the army in praising the
pretty town, and acknowledging the gratitude we felt to the people for
their friendly behaviour to us conquerors.
I did not know at that time that the town was a pestilential,
bacillus-soaked headquarters for disease, or that far too many of
those who smiled upon us hated us bitterly, and were even then engaged
in encouraging the Boers, conveying information to them, and sneaking
out at night to fight with the enemy or to snipe our outposts. In a
word, though I had studied the Boer more closely and longer than any
other London correspondent, I had not measured the breadth and depth
of his contempt for truth, honour, and fair play. Therefore I wrote
the letter to Miss Bloemfontein which, with certain other
contributions to that day's paper, is herewith republished.
On this day the advertisements for what were then called "lost" horses
already numbered three, and, already, we published a communication
headed "Loot News" in which was stated the fact that the
horse-stealing had become so bold that a horse had actually been taken
from in front of the Club.
"Please note the following," the reporter wrote, "Section I, clause 1,
of the newly promulgated constitution of the city without a Steyn--A
man may kill a man and live, but a man who steals a horse may not
live." Whether there will occur an opportunity in this book to explain
how the neighbourhood of the Boers affected the moral atmosphere and
demoralised our earlier views of property rights, especially in
horse-ownership, I cannot yet say, but whenever the tale is told it
will be discovered to be extraordinary.
* * * * *
THE FRIEND.
(_Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts' Force._)
BLOEMFONTEIN, SATURDAY, MARCH 17, 1900.
LINES BY RUDYARD KIPLING.
MARCH 17, 1900.
ST. PATRICK'S DAY.
Oh! Terence dear, and did you hear
The news that's going round?
The Shamrock's Erin's badge by law,
Where'er her sons be found.
From Bobsfontein to Ballyhack
'Tis ordered by the Queen,
We've won our right in open fight
The wearing of the Green.
* * * * *
THE STEYNLESS CITY.
_Loot News._
Absent-minded beggars please note following intimations displayed at
the Club House, Market Square:--
Taken from a boy in front of the Club on 15th inst., about 7 p.m., a
bay gelding, about thirteen hands, star on forehead, white patch on
top lip, tick marks on hind quarters, long tail trimmed square,
branded R G off forehoof. A 15 near forehoof.
Will the gentleman who took a brown pony _by mistake_ from a boy at
the door of this Club-house on March 15 kindly return it to manager?
Also please note following:--
Section I, clause I, of newly-promulgated constitution of the City
without a Steyn--A man may kill a man and live, but a man that steals
a horse may not live.
* * * * *
THE LATE PRESIDENCY.
The official Headquarters of Field-Marshal Lord Roberts and his staff
are at the Residency.
* * * * *
TO MISS BLOEMFONTEIN.
A LOVE LETTER.
Come, little Miss Bloemfontein, sit down beside me and let me hold
your dimpled hand and look into those eyes which have caught the
wonderful blue of these heavens, and the tints of your gardens and
your bowery streets. I think our whole army likes you, you belle of
the Boer aristocracy. You certainly change your lovers easily and
lightly, but soldiers are reported not to mind a little coquetry when
they are far from home. You have tripped out to meet us so enticingly,
you have so led us into your bower with your warm little hand, and you
have spoken so kindly to us, that we dislike to think you were quite
the same to your earlier beaux in their homespun suits, their flapping
hats, and their lavish indulgence in whiskers and beards, which, as
you must know, are the cheapest of luxuries--prodigalities in which
misers indulge to make a show and save a barber's bill.
You might have been hateful to us and we could not have blamed you,
for we came too nearly, as certain other soldiers came to the Sabine
sisterhood, with blood in our eyes and weapons in hand, fancying that
you would cling to your old love, and never dreaming that he would run
away and leave you unprotected in this placid and pretty little
boudoir that you have set up here. You won't forget that little
episode, will you, Miss Bloemfontein? And you did take note, didn't
you, my dear, that when we found you deserted, all forlorn, we changed
from lion to lamb, from blustering warrior to soft-spoken wooer? We
spoke no harsh word to your people and did their goods no violence.
Even now, we stand aside in our own place, crowding none of your
servitors, but smiling back the smiles you bathe us in, and breathing
our admiration softly--for you are a pretty miss and gentle--and we
are not so stupid as to fail to see that you are no Boadicea, but a
lover of peace and concord, if ever one has lived on earth since the
Muses took to the clouds. Sweetness of loving sighs its soft song of
delight in every breeze that rustles the leaves of your tree-garlands.
Domesticity asserts its command, by your order, in the aspect of every
cottage in your park-like nest. Homely comfort radiates from the
hearths and the faces of all who live under your delightful rule.
I never anywhere saw a prettier or a more astonishing scene than I
witnessed in your market-square on the second night of the stay, which
we hope you will invite us to prolong to eternity. We sent a few
greasy and stained melodists with pipes and drums to play in the
square, partly to show you that we had dethroned Mars and substituted
Pan in the best niche in our hearts, and partly to set our own
pleasure tripping to gay tunes. And lo! out you came with your maidens
and their lovers, your old men and matrons, and the children within
your gates. And we all forgot that we had quarrelled with your
cast-off favourite, that each of us had shed the other's blood, and
that we had come to you with an anger that we supposed you matched
within your own fair bosom. Your people and ours touched elbows and
laughed and sang together. For one I was amazed. Of all the sharp
contrasts of strife I know of none so bold and strong as that scene
when it was compared with the scenes of only a few days back at
Paardeberg and Driefontein.
It was your magic, your witchery, your tact that brought it about, you
South African beauty. Without these helps we never could have enjoyed
that evening as we did, and that evening was the bridge that spanned
the gulf between the angry past and the happy future in our lives,
little miss.
Draw closer, Miss Bloemfontein. Let our arms touch, and the thrill of
ardent friendship vivify our new relation. You do like us British,
don't you, dear? You don't have to be British yourself, you know. You
can stay on being Dutch and piously Presbyterian and all the rest. We
will respect whatever you admire, and we will promise to make you
richer, freer, happier and even more beautiful--with the ripened
charms of a long-assured content, if only you will let your chief
predikant publish the banns next Sunday--or sooner, if you will.
JULIAN RALPH.
* * * * *
A RECENT EXPERIENCE.
A recent experience of Mr. Bennet Burleigh and his colleague, Mr.
Percy Bullen, of the _Daily Telegraph_, affords a fitting illustration
of the dangers to which those attached to Field Forces are exposed.
These two gentlemen left Poplar Grove last Saturday with the object of
reaching General Kelly-Kenny's column, which had preceded them by
several hours travelling along the high road running almost parallel
with the Modder River. Near Abrahamskraal they caught sight of the
central division fighting the Boers along the kopjes lying to the
right. Mr. Burleigh, who was travelling in a Cape cart drawn by four
horses, stepped down to survey matters, and while looking through his
glasses along the high road he saw a party of Boers digging trenches.
Some of them wore khaki, others were dressed in a style of the
country, which betrayed their identity to the experienced eye. It was
decided to return by the same road, further progress being obviously
very hazardous, as the enemy was within a distance of 500 yards. The
two carts occupied by the correspondents had barely turned round when
a shower of bullets was sent in their direction, several striking Mr.
Burleigh's vehicle, and others falling immediately in front of Mr.
Bullen. A desperate race followed over a distance of several miles, in
the course of which a convoy of several mule waggons was met. The
officer in charge ordered the convoy to return immediately, and his
instructions were quickly followed. Meantime a messenger was sent
across to the central division to ask for assistance, as the Boers,
though a considerable distance behind, were still shooting. By dint of
hard work and much lashing of horses and mules, every one got safely
away, but one of Mr. Bullen's team fell a victim to the enemy's fire.
Fortunately the shot came from across the river, and the remaining
animal, though sorely tried by the boulders and sluits of a bad road
over which the whole of the convoy and escort had likewise proceeded
at a break-neck pace, was able to pull the cart out upon the veldt and
so elude further damage. By this time some of Rimington's scouts
appeared, and one of the number kindly lent the correspondent his
horse, by means of which he was able to rejoin his colleague at Poplar
Grove, where the entire party passed the night. It was an exciting
chase extending over several miles, and the safety of the
correspondents and convoy was largely due to the zeal of the native
drivers, who worked as if life as well as liberty depended on the
result. The huge column of dust thrown up by the carts and horses was
sufficient to baffle even the most expert riflemen, and the Boers who
pursued were certainly not good shots even at close quarters. In order
to assist his flight Mr. Bullen jettisoned a large quantity of horse
fodder, whereas his experienced colleague, Mr. Burleigh, arrived in
camp with all his goods intact, including a live sheep. It transpired
subsequently that the messenger despatched for assistance, as well as
two others who followed him, were captured. The correspondents state
that the skill displayed by their drivers in avoiding the huge
boulders which lined the high road, and especially in descending and
ascending the banks of a very precipitous sluit with a twelve feet
dip, was a most creditable performance, reminding one of the wonderful
exercises of our artillery drivers at the Islington Military
Tournament.
* * * * *
CORRESPONDENCE.
CANADIANS ON MAJUBA DAY.
BY MAJOR-GENERAL SMITH-DORRIEN.
BLOEMFONTEIN, _March_ 17, 1900.
_To the Editor of_ "THE FRIEND."
DEAR SIR,--I have read your account of "The Canadians on Majuba Day"
in your issue of yesterday. It is correct up to a certain point, but
the last part of it is quite erroneous.
In justice to this gallant corps, and to the Company of Royal
Engineers who were with them, I trust you will publish this
letter--which recounts what actually happened from the moment the
Royal Canadians advanced from the trench, 550 yards from the enemy,
until they established themselves and made a new trench within 93
yards of the Boer trenches.
At 2.15 a.m. (on the 27th February), the Royal Canadians with 240 men
in the front rank, the latter with rifles slung and entrenching tools,
and about 30 officers and men, Royal Engineers under Lieut.-Colonel
Kincaid forming the right of the rear rank of the Canadians, moved
steadily from the trench, shoulder to shoulder in the dark night,
feeling their way through the bushes, and keeping touch by the right.
At 2.50 a.m. they were met by a terrific fire from the enemy's trench,
now only 60 yards in front of them.
The line was forced to fall back, but only a very small distance, the
right of it under Captains Stairs and Macdonell, Royal Canadians, some
twenty yards, where they lay down in the open and returned a steady
fire--mostly volleys--for the next one and a half hours; the left had
had to fall back rather further.
Under cover of these two Captains, Lieutenant-Colonel Kincaid and his
R.E. officer and men, and the Canadian working party in that part of
the line constructed trenches in spite of the galling fire, and by
daylight had completed a most admirable work which gave grand cover
against fire in all threatened directions, and was so well traversed
with banks and sand-bags that not a single casualty occurred after it
was occupied.
As day dawned a ruined house was noticed on the opposite bank of the
river, from which this work could be enfiladed, and a party from the
reserve was sent up the left bank to occupy it.
To cover the early morning attack as soon as the fire opened at 2.50
a.m., the Shropshires, in order to hold the enemy in the main laager,
engaged them with long-range volleys, whilst the Gordons remained
partly in the open and partly in the most advanced flank trench, which
latter they lengthened and enlarged, ready to move forward in support.
Shortly after daylight a white flag was flying in the Boer trench,
which was 93 yards from our newly-constructed trench, and soon the
Boers came trooping into our line. They stated that they had no orders
from General Cronje to surrender, but that they heard he intended to
give in on the 28th February.
The result, however, of this gallant operation was that General Cronje
altered his date one day earlier.
Your account says that our losses were comparatively small; so they
were for the results gained, and considering the heavy fire which
continued for nearly two hours at 80 yards' range. They only amounted
to 45 casualties in the Brigade--thus, 12 N.C.O.'s and men Royal
Canadians killed, 30 N.C.O.'s and men Royal Canadians wounded, and 3
officers wounded, Major Pelletier and Lieut. Armstrong, Royal
Canadians, and Lieut. Atchison, King's Shropshire Light Infantry--a
fold in the ground exactly covered the spot where the party was
working, hence the absence of casualties in the Royal Engineers, and
the slight losses in the working party of Royal Canadians.
Yours faithfully,
H. L. SMITH-DORRIEN,
Major-General, Commanding 19th Brigade.
(We are glad to be able to supplement our contributor's account of the
gallant action of the 27th by General Smith-Dorrien's categorical
letter, which supplies details which could hardly be obtained
accurately at second-hand.--EDS. FRIEND).
* * * * *
A COLONIAL HERO.
While scouting at Makouw's Drift, two troopers of Rimington's Guides
were fired on from a small kopje at close range. One had his horse
shot, and the other, young Ewan Christian, son of Mr. H. B. Christian,
of Port Elizabeth, rode back to bring him away. As he was bending down
to help his comrade up behind he was himself fatally shot, the bullet
passing through his back and out through his chest. He rolled off his
horse and told his comrade to mount and ride away. Shortly afterwards
Major Rimington and more men came up and heard the last words of the
dying hero: "Tell my old governor I died game." On retiring the party
were under a hot fire, several horses, including that of Major
Rimington, being shot. Mr. Christian was buried with military
honours.