The Chronicles of a Gay Gordon Part 16

On the day before he left Bloemfontein Lord Roberts sent for me and asked me how many of the Overseas Brigade had been unable to march out of Bloemfontein. I informed him that taking into account the sick and convalescent, two or three units which had only just arrived, and some for whom I was awaiting delivery of horses from the Remount Depot, in all somewhere between seven and eight hundred men. He also asked me to ascertain as soon as possible how many had been left behind belonging to General Ridley's brigade. I did so, and found that they had left behind somewhere about a thousand. He said: "Very well. I now want you to put all those details together, organize them into a mounted column, equip them, and get the requisite number of horses within a week or ten days if practicable. I have given instructions that your wants are to be attended to by all the parties concerned as early as possible. You will then leave Bloemfontein; the column will march, pa.s.sing to the westward of Karee Siding, to Brandfort. Then, with a wide sweep to the westward, returning to the railway line at Small Deel. You will receive further orders at Small Deel as to what route to take from that place to Kroonstad. I shall be looking for your arrival, if all goes well with you, and I am counting upon your arriving with between twelve and fifteen hundred horses, in good condition, to replace the losses in horseflesh amongst the mounted troops in my advance. I fully antic.i.p.ate that as we drive the Boers northwards on our broad front--the centre of which will be practically the main railway line--numbers of them will break away to our flanks, clear them, and then close in backwards in our rear to attack our lines of communications. I don't think that they'll be expecting any mounted columns of any strength to be following up behind. So that you have got to watch for them and deal them a nasty blow if you come across them.

"So you understand. Your two special duties are: first, to watch the lines of communications, and secondly, so to nurse your horses that they may arrive as fit as possible. By the by, I don't think I have told you that I have appointed you to command the column. I don't think it will interfere with your other duties, as I know you've got them well in hand."

I thanked him, but I pointed out that my greatest difficulty in equipping the brigade had undoubtedly been to obtain suitable transport. I very much doubted if, after the general advance from Bloemfontein, there remained a single decent wagon or cart behind.

"Well," he said, "I know that. You must travel as light as you can. Make use of the railway line as much as possible, and collar whatever vehicles you can get. Good luck! I'll see you at Kroonstad."

My column altogether numbered about seventeen hundred. The night we arrived at Brandfort the officer commanding was glad to see us. He was expecting a surprise attack that night, but nothing happened. No doubt the news of our arrival had reached the Boers and they had thought better of it. On our sweep from Brandfort to Small Deel we met a good many small parties of Boers as we went through the ranges, but they gave us no trouble except a lot of sniping. We got a good many surrenders, and arrived at Small Deel hale and hearty. There I received my orders to march on to Welgelegen and thence to Kroonstad, watching the country to the left of the railway line. As we were camped at Welgelegen two nights afterwards I received a message from Lord Kitchener to the effect that it had been reported that some five hundred Boers and four guns had been seen moving in the direction of Welgelegen and that I was to do my best to intercept them, and, in any case, in moving on to Kroonstad to proceed on both sides of the railway line on as broad a front as the numbers at my disposal would allow. We could hear nothing of the five hundred Boers and four guns, so after a thorough search of the country round Welgelegen we marched on to Kroonstad.

On arriving there I reported at headquarters. Lord Roberts informed me that he would inspect the column next morning at 10 A.M. The Commander-in-Chief arrived up to time. His inspection was a very short one, his chief anxiety being the condition of the horses. Fortunately they were in good fettle, and their condition met with his approval. He thanked me and gave instructions to his staff officers for the future disposition of the several units.

Before 4 P.M. that afternoon the bivouac ground was empty and my composite column dispersed. I at once set to work to gather up the threads of my own especial work. The first thing was to establish a depot at Kroonstad for my brigade supplies. The next, to bespeak horses at the Remount Depot, just established at Kroonstad. I was busy at this work the next day when I received a message to report myself at headquarters. On arrival there General Grierson, the Quartermaster-General, told me that he wanted me to take up a special job at once. He added that the arrival of my horses in good condition had enabled the Commander-in-Chief to move on, and that he had decided to advance to Pretoria straight away. It had been antic.i.p.ated that there would not be any great opposition on the part of the Boers, at any rate as far as the Vaal River. The advance would be a very rapid one, especially on the part of the mounted troops forming the two enveloping wings on both sides of the railway line.

It was therefore necessary that the transport for their supplies should not fail during their advance. It had been arranged that General French's cavalry, with Hutton's mounted riflemen, should advance to the westward of the railway, and that he wanted me to take charge of their combined transport and supply columns. I told Grierson that I was doubtful whether I had enough experience for that sort of work. Didn't he think that someone better fitted should be selected? Grierson told me that Lord Roberts had suggested my name, and that he thought that was quite enough.

There was nothing more to be said.

I asked for instructions. He said "Go and see Ward and you will get them." I went across to Colonel Ward, at the D.A.Q.M.G.'s quarters, and saw him. He told me that the troops were advancing early next morning, that General French's supply column was last heard of as about to leave Welgelegen, and he had no intimation of any kind as to Hutton's supply column.

The situation, then, was shortly this. The two mounted brigades were leaving early in the morning of the 22nd, and expected to advance during the day somewhere between twenty and thirty miles. One of the two supply columns was timed to reach Kroonstad, the starting point of the two troops, on the evening of the day of the departure of the brigades, and required a rest, and there was no information available as to the whereabouts of the second supply column. The outlook was not cheerful.

Having gathered a small staff I dispatched a party to hunt up Hutton's column, with orders that they were to be hustled up to Kroonstad without delay.

I spent the rest of the day making the necessary arrangements for the provision of escorts for the columns, which, owing to the existing circ.u.mstances, would be unable to move on together. It was quite evident that French's column would have to leave Kroonstad before Hutton's, and that owing to the rapid advance of the troops in front it would be impossible for the two supply columns to join up en route. The only practical solution that came to my mind was to hurry on French's column, feed Hutton from it, and trust to be able to push forward Hutton's column, when I got hold of it, in time to make up French's deficiencies before he actually fell short.

Knowing that the supplies of a commanding officer in the field are always looked upon as actually his own property, I deemed it most advisable to obtain a written order from headquarters to carry out this plan, if necessary. I saw Colonel Ward, and he was good enough to give me a written order to that effect. This relieved my mind. As a matter of fact, when we picked up the mounted brigades it did become necessary for me to supply Hutton from French's supply column. Lieut.-Colonel Johnson, an artillery officer, who was in command of this column, protested most strongly against parting with any of his supplies, but, on my handing him a copy of the D.A.Q.M.G.'s order to me, he, of course, complied. But I knew right well what to expect next morning. I was not disappointed. I had camped down that night between French's and Hutton's Brigades. Up to that I had had no news of the whereabouts of Hutton's supply column, but I knew that French would send for me very early in the morning. About four in the morning I got news of Hutton's column. It had reached Kroonstad from Welgelegen the evening before, and would move on as per orders.

I need not say that it was a great relief, as it enabled me to look forward to my forthcoming interview with French with less concern. Just at daylight I saw a couple of lancer troopers galloping along towards my little camp. I rode out to meet them. I knew what they wanted. They told me they came from General French, who wished to see the officer who had borrowed his supplies the evening before. Could I tell him where they would find him? I told them it was all right, that I was the officer they wanted, and they could lead the way. I shall not forget that morning. We were in the vicinity of a place called Essenbosch. It was a typical South African fine weather morning. The frost was on the ground. The sun was just rising, but not a cloud in the sky. A big plain. Not a tree; all clear veldt for miles. The two brigades were on the move. It was as pretty a sight as any soldier could wish to see.

After three or four miles' ride I reached General French and his staff.

Our conversation was brief but to the point.

"Are you the officer by whose orders supplies were taken from my column last evening?"

"I am, sir." And, pulling out my pocket-book, I produced Colonel Ward's written order.

"Just understand that I allow n.o.body to borrow or take my supplies in the field. If my troops go one hour short of supplies you will hear from me again. Good morning."

"Good morning, sir," I said, and rode back to my camp.

I had noticed a staff officer looking hard at me under his helmet. I suddenly recognized him. It was my old school chum at the Oratory, Edmund Talbot, the Duke of Norfolk's brother. I had not seen him since I had left school. We were glad to meet again. The world is small. Then off they went, and I was left behind to work out my problem.

At the time Hutton's column was some forty miles in the rear. I had two days' more supplies left in French's column. The question was whether I would succeed in hurrying up Hutton's column sufficiently fast in four days to pick up the advancing troops.

I had information from headquarters that Lord Roberts intended to get at any rate some of his troops across the River Vaal from the Orange Free State into the Transvaal on May 24, Queen Victoria's birthday, as he particularly wished to cable to her, on that day, the news of the complete occupation of the Orange Free State and the entry of his troops into the Transvaal. This meant an advance at the rate of some twenty-five miles a day on the part of French's and Hutton's brigades. Fortunately Hutton's column was enabled, but, indeed, at very heavy loss in oxen and mules, to reach French's as it emptied its last wagon.

By selecting the fittest of the draught animals left belonging to the emptied column, and the fittest of those in Hutton's column, we were able to push on, and, four days afterwards, on the evening of May 24, when a few cavalry actually did cross the River Vaal, at a place called Parisj to the westward of the railway line, the last two days' rations reached French's brigade headquarters half an hour before scheduled time. The job was over. I should be sorry to say how many animals were left on the road and how long it took the empty wagons, of which there were some eight hundred, to return to the base with their sorely depleted teams. For the previous four days and nights I just rested and slept when and where I could, sometimes for an hour, sometimes for two or three, but you may imagine what a good night's rest myself and my much harried and worried staff enjoyed that night after drinking the toast of the day, "G.o.d bless our Queen." I didn't think it necessary to go and see General French again.

Next morning I started across country towards Vereeniken, the border station of the Transvaal. I reached there in safety, though I had to cross a portion of the country in advance of our own troops. I reported myself at headquarters, saw Grierson and asked him, as a special favour, not to give me the charge of any more supply columns in the near future.

He was kind enough to give me a short note from Lord Roberts, personally thanking me for the good result of the two special jobs he entrusted to my care from the time he had left Bloemfontein.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Viscount Kitchener in Field-Marshal's Uniform]

After the Battle of Belfast, about August 25, the organization of the brigade was practically broken up, and there was no further necessity for the special post to which I had been appointed as Chief of the Staff for Overseas Colonials. On Lord Roberts' departure for England I left in the ss. _Moravian_ for Adelaide, making my ninth voyage across the world.

CHAPTER XIII

SOME SOUTH AFRICAN REMINISCENCES

I never enjoyed better health than I did during the twelve months when the hard veldt was my bed and the deep, dark, starry night was the roof over my head. No one can wish for a more healthy climate than that of the Orange River Colony during the dry season. I was only twice hit; once near Karree Siding when a pom-pom sh.e.l.l burst just under my horse and took off the heel of one of my boots; the second time a sniper's bullet went through my coat sleeve without touching me. But I was unfortunate otherwise. One night I was riding along the veldt on a horse which had been presented to me when I left Adelaide by a friend of mine, one of the best hors.e.m.e.n in South Australia, Stephen Ralli, which we had christened Bismarck. We suddenly came to the edge of a dry donga with, of course, rotten sides. Down we had to go, and down we went. For a moment I had no idea whether we were being flung into a river or into a dry channel. It happened to be a dry channel, some sixteen feet deep and about the same width. We hit the bottom hard. I was sent rolling off, Bismarck fell on his head and broke his neck, turning over on his side. I picked myself up and could find no bones broken, and I called out to some of my men who had seen us disappear and had halted on the edge. They were glad to hear me call out. The question was then, how to get out of the donga. The banks were steep. So, unhooking the horses out of one of the Cape carts, they joined up the traces and I was safely hauled up. I did not for some time afterwards really feel any ill results from my fall. In fact I had forgotten all about it. But, later on, I found that I suffered a good deal when riding and that I had received an internal injury which afterwards caused me considerable trouble.

I shall never forget the constant and uniform kindness which I met at the hands of Lord Kitchener. Many and very different opinions of Lord Kitchener's capabilities as a soldier and of his temperament as a man have been expressed. I formed my own opinion in both capacities from actual and continuous contact with him in his work. He was a silent man.

Talk was of no value to him when it wasn't to the point. He possessed a peculiar but very useful gift of getting at the kernel of a subject, seizing its meaning and promptly making up his mind what action he was going to take. If he wanted any further information on any point he asked you for it. If he didn't want it, he did not thank you for volunteering to give it. He was a master of detail. He was forceful in his opinions--too forceful for those who disagreed with him. He may not have been too generous in giving open praise, but he never forgot those who had done him good service. As to whether he was a great general I have no opinion to offer, but he could always be depended upon to carry out whatever he took in hand.

During his trip to Tasmania, years later on, at the time of his inspection of the Forces of the Australian Colonies, a Light Horse Camp was being held at a place called Mona Vale belonging to Major Eustace Cameron who commanded the Light Horse. The homestead was a fine modern house. Mrs. Cameron had arranged for a large party of young people during the period of the camp. Lord Kitchener was the guest of Cameron for the day and night of his inspection. After dinner that evening a small dance was held. Songs with choruses were sung between the dances, and perhaps n.o.body enjoyed himself so much as Lord Kitchener. Later on in the evening, or rather in the early hours of the morning, he told us several good stories and much hearty laughter filled the smoking-room. Lord Kitchener was no woman-hater.

War has not always a grave side. Interesting events, and sometimes even amusing ones, intervene. Some of them now come to my mind. In the early part of the war Capetown had become overrun with men in officers'

uniforms and many ladies, most of whom were by way of being attached to voluntary and other hospitals. Most of these ladies were amateur, not qualified nurses. Mount Nelson Hotel was their chief resort. While a very large building it was unable to house the majority of them. They were scattered about throughout the city in other hotels and boarding-houses.

Yet Mount Nelson was _the_ place where all met.

Each night the resources of the Mount Nelson were strained. Dinner parties, music and dancing were the order of the day. Tables had to be engaged for days previously. A night arrived when the festivities were at their height. Dinner had begun. The large dining-room was full to overflowing, with the exception of one small table set for two in the middle of the room. The _entrees_ were being served and the band had just finished a spirited selection.

The babble of tongues was all over the room when in walked two gentlemen in uniform, preceded by the manager of the hotel, making their way to the empty table set for two. The babble of tongues began to subside. The first officer following the manager was a tall man with rather a severe look in his eyes. It happened to be Lord Kitchener, followed by his personal private secretary. For a moment there came a dead silence, immediately relieved by the strains of the band beginning an operatic overture and the dinner proceeded. At the end of dinner all officers in uniform were notified to interview a staff officer previous to leaving the hotel. Within two days the number of officers frequenting the Mount Nelson Hotel was reduced to a minimum. A couple of days afterwards the manager informed me that he had been instructed the night of the fateful dinner to give notice to all officers in uniform then staying at the hotel who could not produce a permit to vacate their rooms. Steps were also taken to inquire into the positions held by many of the amateur lady nurses, and those whose services were deemed to be superfluous were provided with return pa.s.sages to Europe. Thus ended this episode.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Photo: Shier, Melbourne_

THE COMMONWEALTH MILITARY BOARD, 1914

_Standing_: Colonel Wallace, R.A.A., Master of Ordnance; Colonel Selheim, C.B., Quartermaster-General; Colonel Chauvel, C.B., Adjutant-General.

_Seated_: Brigadier-General J. M. Gordon, C.B., Chief of the General Staff; Mr. Laing, Financial Member.]

An amusing incident occurred at a place called Derdepoort, some ten miles outside Pretoria, where one of our columns, under General Hutton, was holding a section of the defences of the capital. I had dispatched their supplies of winter clothing to them, and it was decided to issue them on a Sunday afternoon. Amongst the thousands of cases that my depots were handling were many containing presents of tobacco, pipes, books, and so on, to the men of the contingents. When the unpacking of those that had arrived at Derdepoort had taken place on the Sunday afternoon it was discovered that several very large ones contained women's and children's garments of all kinds and descriptions. The Tommies were not slow in appreciating the situation. The sounds of hearty laughter were soon ringing throughout the camp. I heard it in my tent, where I was taking a quiet afternoon nap. I went out to see what was happening. It was indeed a quaint sight. An amateur fancy dress ball was being held, and anything more comical it is difficult to imagine. The explanation of the arrival of the costumes was soon made clear. An a.s.sociation of ladies had been formed in New Zealand with the object of supplying clothing for the Boer women and children in the refugee camps that had been established by us for them in South Africa. The cases containing the clothing had been forwarded to Derdepoort by mistake.

During Lord Roberts's stay in Pretoria it was discovered that a plot was set on foot to kidnap the Commander-in-Chief. It was, however, nipped in the bud. One of the leaders was an officer of the Transvaal State Permanent Artillery. The plot, of course, failed and the officer was brought to trial and duly shot. Tommy enjoyed his bit of fun over the attempt to kidnap Lord Roberts. At that time Lady Roberts and her daughters were at Pretoria, and the Tommies thought that it wouldn't be so bad if they kidnapped Lady Roberts, but they had the strongest objection to losing Bobs.

Previous to the Battle of Diamond Hill a short armistice was arranged for. The commanding officer of the Boers opposed to us at the time was General Louis Botha. The military situation then was a difficult one. Had it not been that just then General De Wet, in the north-eastern part of the Orange River Colony, had become suddenly and successfully aggressive, it was probable that General Botha would have come to terms. However, as the result of De Wet's action he decided to carry on. The interesting point in the incident was the fact that General Botha's wife was selected as our emissary. Probably it was the first time, and the last, that the wife of an enemy's general acted in such a capacity.

On our arrival in Pretoria the whole of the conditions appertaining to the civil life of the town had to be reorganized. Previous to its occupation by us Kruger had ordered that all Boer families who had members serving in their forces and who occupied leased houses could do so free of rent, while men in business with relatives fighting could occupy their leased premises at half the usual rents. This disability on the part of the property owners to obtain their rents was at once removed by Lord Roberts. In order to give effect to this decision it was necessary to appoint officials. Practically what was really required was a sort of glorified b.u.m-bailiff, with the necessary a.s.sistance, the b.u.m-bailiff holding a position similar to that of a magistrate. I was asked to suggest the name of a senior officer of the Australians who would be suitable. I did so. But the point arose by what name was the appointment to be designated? I don't remember who was the happy originator of the name, but it shortly appeared in General Orders that Colonel Ricardo, of the Queensland Forces, had been appointed "High Commissioner of Ejectments" at Pretoria. Surely a name worthy of Gilbert and Sullivan.

I was lunching one day at the Pretoria Club when Bennet Burleigh, the well-known war correspondent, told me that he had just lost the services of his dispatch rider and asked me to recommend him a good daring rider and first-cla.s.s bushman to take his place. All through life I have found that trifles often have serious consequences. I just happened, on my way to the club, to have seen crossing the square Morant, otherwise Corporal Buller, of the South Australian Contingent. I had not seen him for some considerable time. I bethought myself at once that Morant would be just the man to fit the billet. If I had not happened to see him I should certainly not have thought of him and Morant's career might have been a very different one. I told Burleigh that Morant was a gentleman, a good rider and bushman, and I didn't think he personally feared anything.

Burleigh thanked me and offered to take him at once. Next morning Morant became his dispatch rider.

Occasionally, after this, during the advance to Koomatipoort, Morant would turn up and pay me a visit. He usually arrived with a bundle of any old newspapers he could get, which he very gravely and without a smile handed over to me, hoping that they would be very welcome. But there was a look in his eye that I knew well. "Have a whisky and soda, Morant?" I'd say. "Well, sir, I don't think it would be so bad. I would like one very much." He would then settle himself down comfortably, light his pipe and start to tell me all sorts of bits of news that had come his way. I often had but a few minutes to give him and had to leave him in possession, telling him to look after himself and be happy. Which he did.

He was well pleased with his job, looked a typical war correspondent himself, and was making good money. I heard no more until, some months later, I received a note from him from England telling me that he had been taking a short holiday and was returning to South Africa. He was joining a friend of his, Major Hunt, and they proposed to raise an irregular corps on their arrival. The corps was raised, the "Bushveldt Carabiniers." This corps had nothing whatever to do with Australia. Nor could Morant himself lay any claim to being Australian. The corps was raised from Colonials and British, chiefly out of a job, then in South Africa. They appear to have had somewhat of a free hand in the operations which marked the latter portion of the campaign. Drives were taking place. Units were scattered, and to a certain extent had to be left to their own devices. The Bushveldt Carabiniers occupied for some time a wild region called The Splonken. While dealing with the Boers in that locality Major Hunt had, so it was officially reported, been murdered by the Boers, having been induced to approach a farm house on which a white flag was flying. The story goes that he was found lying dead on the stoep of the farm and that his body had been mutilated. Morant swore to avenge his friend's untimely end--it was reported that he had become engaged to Hunt's sister during his visit to England. He determined to give no quarter, and several prisoners who fell into his hands were promptly shot there and then. He and four other officers were, later on, in January, 1902, court-martialled on the charge of having personally committed or been accessory to the murder of twelve Boers. The five were found guilty, in different degrees. Handc.o.c.k, Wilton and Morant were sentenced to death, and Morant was shot at Pretoria.

I am in a position to give a short account of Morant's last hours. When crossing over in the ss. _Surrey_ from South Australia a man called John Morrow, who had been my groom for a couple of years in Adelaide, had become a close friend of Morant's. It was difficult to say why.