Ladysmith Part 10

_January 2, 1900._

Soon after daylight dropping bullets began to whiz past my window and crack upon the tin roof in quite a shower. The Boer snipers had crept up into Brooks's Farm, beyond the Harrismith railway, and were firing at the heads of our men on Junction Hill. Whenever they missed the edge of the hill the bullets fell on my cottage. At last some guns opened fire from our Naval battery on Cove Redoubt. Captain Lambton had permitted the Natal Naval Volunteers to blaze away some of their surplus ammunition at the snipers. And blaze they did! Their 3-pounders kept up an almost continuous fire all the morning, and hardly a sniper has been heard since. There was nothing remarkable about the bombardment.

"Puffing Billy" gave us his four doses of big sh.e.l.l as usual. Whilst I was at the Intelligence Office a sh.e.l.l lit among some houses under the trees in front, killed two and wounded others. The action of another sh.e.l.l would seem incredible if I had not seen it. The thing burst among the 13th Battery, which stands under shelter of Tunnel Hill, in a straight line with my road, less than 300 yards away. I was just mounting my horse and stopped to see the burst, when a fragment came sauntering high through the air and fell with a thud in the garden just behind me. It was a jagged bit of outer casing about three inches thick, and weighing over 6 lbs. The extraordinary thing about it was that it had flung off exactly at right angles from the line of fire. Gunners say that melinite sometimes does these things.

I rode south-west, over Range Post and a bit of the Long Valley to Waggon Hill, our nearest point to the relief column and the English mail. At no great distance--ten miles or so--I could see the hills overlooking the Tugela, where the English are. Far beyond rose the crags and precipices of the Drakensberg, illuminated by unearthly gleams of the setting sun, which found their way beneath the fringes of a purple thunder-shower and turned to amber-brown a cloud of smoke rising from the burning veldt.

_January 3, 1900._

The quiet hour before sunrise was again broken by the crash of our Naval guns. "b.l.o.o.d.y Mary" (now politely called the "Princess Victoria") threw five sh.e.l.ls along the top of Bulwan. A Naval 12-pounder sent three against the face of the hill. Again it was intended to catch the Boer gunners and guard as they were getting up and preparing breakfast.

_January 4, 1900._

No news came in, and it was a day as dull as peace, but for some amenities of bombardment.

The Surprise Hill howitzer tried a longer range. At lunch "Bulwan Billy"

made some splendid shots close to our little mess and burst the tanks at Taylor's mineral water works. In the wet afternoon the big gun's work was less dignified. He threw five shrapnel over the cattle licking up what little gra.s.s was left on the flat, and did not kill a single cow.

The guides boast that to-day they killed one Boer by strategy used for tigers in India. Two or three of them went out to Star Kopje and loosed two miserable old ponies, driving them towards the Boer lines to graze.

A Boer or two came for the prize and one was shot dead.

At night the flash signals from Colenso were very brilliant on a black and cloudy sky. They only said, "Dearest love from your own Nance," or "Baby sends kisses," but the Bulwan searchlight tried hard to thwart their affectionate purpose by waving his ray quickly up and down across the flashing beam.

_January 5, 1900._

There was little to mark the day beyond the steady sh.e.l.ling of snipers by the Natal Navals, and a great 96lb. sh.e.l.l from Bulwan which plunged through a Kaffir house, where black labourers live stuffed together, took off a Kaffir's foot, ricocheted over our little mess-room, just glancing off the roof, and fell gasping, but still entire, beside our verandah. I rode up to Caesar's Camp in the morning sun. It was a scene of sleepy peace, only broken by the faint interest of watching where the sh.e.l.ls burst in the town far below.

CHAPTER XVI

THE GREAT ATTACK

_January 6, 1900._

It has been a commonplace of the war that the Boers could cling to a position of their own choosing from behind stones, but would never venture to attack a position or fight in the open. Like all the comforting commonplaces about the Boers, this is now overthrown. The untrained, ill-equipt farmers have to-day a.s.saulted positions of extraordinary strength, have renewed the attack again and again, have rushed up to breastworks, and died at the rifle's mouth, and have only been repulsed after fifteen hours of hard and gallant fighting on the part of the defence.

Waggon Hill is a long, high spur of Caesar's Camp, running out south-west between Long Valley and Bester's Farm. At the extremity, as I have described, are the great gun-pits prepared for "Lady Anne" and a Naval 12-pounder some weeks ago. "Lady Anne" was for the second time being brought up into position there last night, and ought to have been fixed the night before, but was stopped half-way by the wet.

The Boer attack was probably not merely an attempt on the gun, but on the position, and the gun is being taken back to her usual position to-night. Besides the gun-pits, the hill has no defences except a few low walls, only two or three stones high, piled up at intervals round the edge, as shelters from long-range fire. The place was held only by three dismounted squadrons of Imperial Light Horse, but the 1st K.R.R.

(60th) were in support in a large sangar about three-quarters of a mile along the same ridge, separated from Waggon Hill proper by the low "nek"

where the two howitzers used to stand. From the 60th the ridge turns at an angle eastward, and becomes the long tableland of Caesar's Camp, held by the Manchesters and 42nd Battery (Major Goulburn). The top is broad and flat, covered with gra.s.s and loose stones. The whole position completely overlooks the town to the north, and if it fell into the enemy's hands we should either have to retake it or quit the camps and town. The edge measures 4,000 yards, and the Manchesters had only 560 men to hold it.

At a quarter to three a.m., while it was still dark, a small party of Boer sharpshooters climbed up the further (south-east) face of Waggon Hill, just left of the "nek." They were picked men who had volunteered for the exploit. Nearly all came from Harrismith. We had posted a picket of eight at the point, but long security had made them careless, or else they were betrayed by a mistake which nearly lost the whole position.

From the edge of the hill the whole face is "dead" ground. It is so steep that an enemy climbing up it cannot be seen. It was almost a case of Majuba again.

The Dutch crept up quite un.o.bserved. At last a sentry challenged, and was answered with "Friend." He was shot dead, and was found with rifle raised and still loaded. The alarm was given, but no one realised what had happened. Captain Long (A.S.C.), who was superintending the transport of "Lady Anne," told me he could not understand how it was that bullets kept whistling past his nose. He thought the firing was from our own sentries. But the Dutch had reached the summit, and were enfilading the "nek" and the whole extremity of the hill from our left.

As light began to dawn it was impossible to show oneself for a moment on the open top. The furthest range was not over 300 yards, and the top of a helmet, the corner of an arm, was sufficient aim for those deadly marksmen. Unable to stand against the fire, the Light Horse withdrew behind the crest of the hill, whilst small parties continued a desperate defence from the two big gun-pits.

Nearly all the officers present have been killed or wounded, and it is difficult to get a clear account of what happened from any eye-witness.

Four companies from each battalion of the K.R. Rifles came up within the hour, but no one keeps count of time in such a struggle. The Boers were now climbing up all along the face of the hill, and firing from the edge. All day about half the summit was in their possession. Three times they actually occupied the gun-pits and had to be driven out again.

Leaning their rifles over the parapets they fired into the s.p.a.ce inside.

It was so that Major Miller-Wallnutt, of the Gordons, was killed. Old De Villiers, the Harrismith commandant, shot him over the wall, and was in turn shot by Corporal Albrecht, of the Light Horse, who was himself shot by a Field-Cornet, who was in turn shot by Digby-Jones, the sapper. So it went on. The Boers advanced to absolutely certain death, and they met it without hesitation--the Boers who would never have the courage to attack a position! One little incident ill.u.s.trates their spirit. A rugged old Boer finding one of the I.L.H. wounded on the ground, stopped under fire and bound him up. "I feel no hatred towards you," he said, "but you have no reason to fight at all. We are fighting for our country." He turned away, and a bullet killed him as he turned.

Before six o'clock the defence was further reinforced by a party of Gordons from Maiden Castle. They did excellent work throughout the day, though they, too, were once or twice driven from the top. But the credit of the stand remains with the I.L.H. and a few sappers like Digby-Jones, who held one of the little forts alone for a time, killed three Boers with his revolver, and went for a fourth with the b.u.t.t. He would have had the V.C. if he had not fallen. So perhaps would Dennis, of the Sappers, though I am told he was present without orders. Lord Ava, galloper to General Ian Hamilton, commanding the defences, was shot through the head early in the day, about six o'clock. Sent forward with a message to the Light Horse, he was looking through gla.s.ses over a rock when the bullet took him. While I write he is still alive, but given up. A finer fellow never lived. "You'd never take him for a lord,"

said an Irish sergeant, "he seems quite a nice gentleman." Equally sad was the loss of Colonel d.i.c.k-Cunyngham, of the Gordons. A spent bullet struck him in the back as he was leaving camp. The wound is mortal, and he had only just recovered from his wound at Elands Laagte.

So the fight began. The official estimate of the Boers who gained the top is 600. Eye-witnesses put the number at anything between 100 and 1,000. The struggle continued from 3 a.m. till nearly seven at night. It must be remembered that our men had nothing to eat from five the afternoon before, and got nothing till nine at night. Twenty-eight hours they were without food, and for about sixteen they were fighting for life and death. At 4 p.m. a tremendous thunderstorm with rain and hail came on, but the fire never slackened. The 21st and 67th Batteries were behind the position in front of Range Post, but were unable to give a.s.sistance for fear of killing our men. The 18th Hussars and 5th Dragoon Guards and some 5th Lancers came up dismounted to reinforce, but still the enemy clung to the rocks, and still it was death to creep out on the narrow level of the summit.

It was now evident that the position must be retaken at all costs, or the enemy would hold it all night. The General sent for three companies of the Devons. Up they came, tramping through the storm--that glorious regiment of Western Englishmen. Colonel Park and four other officers led them on. It was about six o'clock when they reached the summit. Keeping well to the left of the "nek," between the extremity held by the Light Horse and the 60th's sangar, they took open order under cover of the ridge. Then came the command to sweep the position with the bayonet.

They fixed, and advanced at the quick till they reached the open. Then, under a steady hail of bullets, they came on at the double--180 men, with the steel ready. Colonel Park himself led them. The Boers kept up an incessant fire till the line was within fifteen yards. Then they turned and ran, leaping down the steep face of the hill, and disappearing in the dead ground. Their retreat was gallantly covered by their comrades, who swept the ridge with an oblique fire from both sides.

The Devons, edging a little to the right in their charge, got some cover from a low wall near the "nek" just quitted by the Boers. Even there the danger was terrible. It was there that four officers fell, three stone dead. It will be long before such officers as Lafone (already twice wounded in this war) and Field can be replaced. Lieutenant Masterson, formerly a private, and later a colour-sergeant in the Irish Fusiliers, was ordered back over the exposed s.p.a.ce cleared by the first charge to bring up a small reinforcement further on the left. On the way he was shot at least three times, but staggered on and gave his order. He still survives, and is recommended for the Victoria Cross. He comes of a fighting Irish stock, and his great-grandfather captured the French Eagle at Barossa in the Peninsular War. He received his commission for gallantry in Egypt.

But the day was won. The position was cleared. That charge finished the business. The credit for the whole defence against one of the bravest attacks ever made rests with the Light Horse, the Gordons, and the Devons. Yet it is impossible to forget the unflinching self-devotion of the King's Royal Rifle officers. They suffered terribly, and the worst is they suffered almost in vain. At one moment, when the defenders had been driven back over the summit's edge, Major Mackworth (of the Queen's, but attached to the King's Royal Rifles) went up again, calling on the men to follow him. Just with his walking-stick in his hand he went up, and with the few brave men who followed him he died.

The attack on the main position of Caesar's Camp was much the same in plan and result. At 3 a.m. the Manchester pickets along the extremity's left edge (_i.e._, north-east) were surprised by the appearance of Boers in their very midst. Lieutenant Hunt-Grubbe, who was visiting the pickets, mistook them for volunteers. "Hullo! Boers!" he cried out. They laughed and answered, "Yes, burghers!" He was a prisoner in their hands for some hours. The whole of one section was shot dead at their post.

The alarm was given, but the outlying sentries and piquets could not move from the little shelters and walls which alone protected them from the oblique fire from an unknown direction. Many were shot down. Some remained hidden at the bottom of their defence pits till late in the afternoon without being able to stir. Creeping up the dead ground on the cliffs face, which is covered with rocks and thick bushes, the Boers lined the left edge of the summit in great numbers. Probably about 1,000 attacked that part alone, and about 200 advanced on to the top. They were all Transvaal Boers, chiefly volunteers from the commandoes of Heidelburg and Wakkerstroom. This main body was attempting to take our left (north) side of the hill in flank, and kept edging through the thorns and dongas near the foot. The Natal Police, supported by the Natal Mounted Rifles, had been set to prevent such a movement, but had left a gap of 500 yards between their right and three companies of Gordons stationed in front of "Fly" kraal on that side of the hill. At last, observing the enemy in a donga, they challenged, and were met by the answer, "For G.o.d's sake, don't fire; we're the Town Guard." At once they were undeceived by a volley which killed one of them and wounded a few others. How far they avenged this act of treachery I have not discovered. The Boers flanking movement was only checked by the 53rd Battery (Major Abdy), which was posted on the flat across the river from the show ground, and did splendid service all day. It sh.e.l.led the side and top of the hill almost incessantly, though the big Bulwan gun kept pouring shrapnel and common sh.e.l.l right in front of it, making all the veldt look like a ploughed field.

Meantime the Boers on the summit held their ground. Their movement was backed by three field guns and two automatics across the Bester's valley at ranges of 2,000 yards and 4,000 yards. Their further advance along the edge was really checked by two Manchester privates, Scott and Pitts, who kept up an incessant fire from their little wall at the extremity after all their comrades were shot. Three companies of the Rifle Brigade at last came up to reinforce. Then the G Company of the Gordons, under Captain Carnegie. But for a long time no one knew where the gap in our line really was. About half-past nine one could see the enemy still thick among the rocks and trees on the left of the extremity, though the shrapnel was dropping all among them from the 53rd Battery. It was just before this that Lieutenant Walker, watching with a telescope from the signal station on the Convent, saw two Boers creeping along the edge alone for about 150 yards under tremendous fire. Suddenly a shrapnel took them, and both fell down. They were father and son. About half-past ten the first a.s.sault was repulsed, and for a time the Boers disappeared, but one could see reinforcements ma.s.sing behind a hill called the "Red Kopje," across the deep stream of the Bester's valley.

The second main attack was delivered about one, and the third during the storm at five. I think, after the first a.s.sault, the Boer line never advanced beyond the cover of the edge. But their incessant fire was supported by a storm of long-range bullets from the heights across the valley. The position was not finally cleared till nearly seven.

The attack and the defence were equally gallant, as at Waggon Hill. Our guns were of far more service than theirs, but probably the loss by rifle fire was not so great, the range being longer. The total force of the attack on both positions was probably about 7,000. Some 2,000 Volunteers led the way--old Boer farmers and picked men who came forward after a prayer meeting on Friday. For immovable courage I think it would be impossible to beat our gunners--especially of the 42nd and 53rd Batteries. All through the action they continued the routine of gunnery just as if they were out for exercise on the sands.

By seven o'clock the main positions on the south side of our defences were safe. On the north, fighting had been going on all day also. At about 4 a.m. the artillery and rifle fire was so violent around Observation Hill that I thought the main attack was on that point.

Originally the Boers no doubt intended a strong attack there. The hill has always been one of the weakest points of our defence.

The Boers began their attack on Observation Hill just before dawn with a rapid fire of guns and rifles at long range. At first only our guns replied, the two of the 69th doing excellent work with shrapnel over the opposite ridges. By about six we could see the Boers creeping forward over Bell Spruit and making their way up the dongas and ridges in our front. At about eight there was a pause, and it seemed as if the attack was abandoned, but it began again at nine with greater violence. The sh.e.l.l fire was terrific. Every kind of sh.e.l.l, from the 45-pounder of the 4.7 in. howitzer down to the 1-1/2-pounder of the automatic, was hurled against those little walls, while shrapnel burst almost incessantly overhead.

It is significant for our own use of artillery that not a single man 'was killed by sh.e.l.ls, though the air buzzed with them. The loose stone walls were cover enough. But the demoralising effect of sh.e.l.l fire is well known to all who have stood it. A good regiment is needed to hold on against such a storm. But the Devons are a good regiment--perhaps the best here now--and, under the command of Major Curry, they held. At half-past nine the rifle fire at short range became terrible.

Boers were crawling up over what little dead ground there was, and one group of them reached an edge from which they began firing into our breastwork at about fifteen yards. One or two of them sprang up as though to charge. With bayonets they might have come on, but, standing to fire, they were at once shot down. Among them was Schutte, the commandant of the force. He was killed on the edge, with about ten others. Then the attacking group fell back into the dead ground. Our men got the order not to fire on them if they ran away. It was the best means of clearing them off the hill, and they made off one by one. The long-range fire continued all day, but there was no further rush upon our works. Our loss was only two men killed and a few wounded. The Boer loss is estimated at fifty, but it is impossible to know.

The King's (Liverpools), who now hold the works built by the Devons on the low Helpmakaar ridge, were also under rifle and sh.e.l.l fire all day.

About 3 p.m. about eighty Boers came down the deep ravine or donga at the further end of the ridge. A mounted infantry picket of three men was away across the donga, watching the road towards Lombard's Nek. Instead of retiring, they calmly lay down and fired into the thick of the Boers whenever they saw them. Apparently the Boers had intended some sort of attack or feint, but, instead of advancing, they remained hidden in the donga, firing over the banks. At last Major Grattan, fearing the brave little picket might be cut off, sent out two infantry patrols in extended order, and the Boers did not await their coming; they hurried up the donga into the shelter of the thorns, which just now are all golden with b.a.l.l.s of sweet-smelling blossom.

Soon after the sun set behind the storm of rain the fighting ceased. The long and terrible day was done. I found myself with the Irish Fusiliers at Range Post, where the road crosses to the foot of Waggon Hill. The stream of ambulance was incessant--covered mule-waggons, little ox-carts, green dhoolies carried by indomitable Hindoos, knee-deep in water, and indifferent to every kind of death. In the sixteen hours'

fighting we have lost fourteen officers and 100 men killed, twenty-one officers and 220 men wounded. The victory is ours. Our men have done what they were set to do. But two or three more such victories, and where should we be?

_Sunday, January 7, 1900._

The men remained on the position all night under arms, soaked through and hardly fed. Rum was issued, but half the carts lost their way in the dark, because the officers in charge had preferred to go fighting on the loose and got wounded. The men lay in pools of rain among the dead.