THROUGH SHOT
AND FLAME

THE ADVENTURES AND EXPERIENCES OF
J. D. KESTELL
CHAPLAIN TO PRESIDENT STEYN
AND
GENERAL CHRISTIAN DE WET

METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON
1903

Colonial Library

TO

MY WIFE

WHO WAS ONE OF THE THOUSANDS
WHO ENDURED IN THE GREAT STRUGGLE
FOR FREEDOM, I DEDICATE THIS BOOK

AND

WITH HER I COMMEMORATE HERE THE
FIDELITY AND PATRIOTISM OF HIM WHO
WAS MY COMRADE IN THE FIELD, AND
WHO DIED IN THE SPRINGTIDE OF HIS
LIFE, A PRISONER OF WAR, AT LADYSMITH,
NATAL

Our Son, CHARLES KESTELL

THROUGH SHOT AND FLAME

PART I
HOPE

CHAPTER I
I JOIN THE HARRISMITH COMMANDO

I purpose to chronicle in the following pages my experiences of the war between the Boers and the English. It is my object to record what I went through on commando, and to give the reader an idea, according to my own observation, of the struggles and sufferings of a small nation against the overwhelming odds of an Empire—nay, against the world itself.

For was it not against the world that the little nation fought?

Think of it. Not only did England have 240,000 men in the field against 45,000 of the two South African Republics; not only did she have more guns than the two little States, much more ammunition, a much greater amount of supplies, a great many more horses, much more money—but she had the world also on her side. The world looked on the strife without putting forth a hand to help the weak against the strong: nay, it helped the strong. The United States of North America sold horses and wheat and meat to the mighty Empire, that was carrying on a war of extermination against the two small States in South Africa; the Republics of South America gave mules; Austria and Russia supplied horses. I do not forget, when I say this, the large sympathy which the world showed us. I should be guilty of the most heinous ingratitude if I did not acknowledge that the world, and especially Holland, went out of its way in liberally supplying clothing and large sums of money to our women and children in the concentration camps, and to the prisoners of war on the islands. But England had the advantage of a market almost wherever she wished to buy; and she closed up every avenue through which we might have been aided. And so the little nation stood alone, while its great adversary was assisted from the four corners of the earth.

Now I purpose to put on record my experiences in this strife. I will do so as well as I can. What I have to relate, however, will by no means be a history of the war.—We shall not have a history of the war until our children write it.—No, I am not going to write a history: I am going to record my limited experiences. You will not find here, for instance, anything about the events which happened at Stormberg or Magersfontein, or about the taking of Bloemfontein or Pretoria. I was not present at those events. Only on that of which I was an eye-witness, or on what took place in the commando to which I belonged at the time, or what came to my notice shortly after its occurrence—only on that will I report in these pages.

But let me tell you before I proceed, that I accompanied the burghers only as a minister of the Dutch Reformed Church. I was never armed. I never took part in a fight as a soldier. I never meddled with military matters. All that, I felt, lay outside of my province. And yet, as will appear in what follows, I fought in the great fight. I was often in action, and if I carried no arms, I carried a pouch of bandages. My presence in a fight gave heart to some and eased the pain of others. I fought, too, in another way: I encouraged the burghers in every service I held, just as every chaplain ought to do, and admonished them to persevere in the great fight. But I never forgot that I was a minister of religion. Every Sunday, and whenever I had an opportunity in the week, I conducted divine service, taking, as a rule, my text from the Old Testament. Besides this I devoted myself to ambulance work, without, however, ever wearing a Red Cross on my sleeve.

I need not say that I was heart and soul one with the great cause of the Republics. Nothing lay nearer to my heart than their welfare; and when it appeared that war was imminent, and that it would be disastrous to my people, it weighed upon my mind like lead.

War?—Ay, war! I feared a collision with England from the moment that Sir Alfred Milner proved at the Bloemfontein Conference that nothing could satisfy him. I became convinced then of what I had all along suspected, but would not believe, that the object of England was not to see that the Uitlander should obtain his rights, but that the two Republics should be annihilated, and that the map of South Africa should, as Rhodes had put it, be painted red.

These suspicions of mine soon proved not to have been unfounded.

President Kruger had consented, at last, to grant the franchise to Uitlanders, after a residence of five years in the country; and everybody thought now that war was averted, and that there would be a peaceful adjustment of the differences between England and the South African Republic. But England did not want that. England wanted the Transvaal. Contrary to the expectations of everyone, the British Government did not accept the proposal of President Kruger, and said that it would dictate its own terms. It was speedily seen that England intended to do this by force of arms, for numbers of British troops had begun to mass on the boundaries of the two Republics.

At last England got what it had been seeking—a palpable causa belli, in the Ultimatum which the Transvaal Government, wearied to death, at last issued.

Both Boers and Britishers have declared that it was a fatal mistake on the part of the Transvaal to issue the Ultimatum. The Boers said that President Kruger should have waited until England had begun hostilities; and the English protested that there would have been no war, if there had been no Ultimatum. Lord Salisbury, especially, has never wearied in his attempt to make the world believe that England went to war with the Republics solely because of the insult offered by the Ultimatum; and that the two States themselves had by that act made it impossible for the British Government to permit them to retain their independence.

But the world knows better.

The world knows that it was England, not the Republics, that began the quarrel, when, contrary to the terms of the Convention of 1884, she interfered with the internal affairs of the South African Republic; when later on she would listen to no proposal of the Transvaal Government, and when she began sending troops to the boundaries of the two States. The world can comprehend also that the Republics could not wait until England had completed the massing of her troops on the borders, to wake up one morning and find themselves invaded from every side. The world, too, knows what must be said of the blow which falls in a manner mechanically, after unendurable provocation. And posterity, sitting in judgment, will pass its verdict on the Ultimatum. It will say that it was a protest against wrong and oppression. It will hear a little people speaking through that Ultimatum to a great nation: "Thou art great and mighty, and thou wouldst set thy foot upon my neck; but I declare here before the whole world that Might is not Right; and I defy thee!"

I cannot enter into a discussion here of the question whether the South African Republic wronged the Uitlanders. But if this had been the case, was England then the knight-errant among the nations of the earth, to rush to the succour of such as might be oppressed by the one or the other Power?—And if she considered that this was her mission, why did she never attempt to teach Turkey, Russia, even the United States of America, what their duty was?

Nothing was further removed from the thoughts of England than such disinterestedness. But she imagined that she had a chance with this little people; and when she wished to beat the dog, she found a stick in the grievances of the Uitlanders.

Poor Transvaal, thou wert not perfect—far from that! But thou hadst had no time to become so. Thou hadst had no time to develop into what thou wouldst have become in the course of years. Thy great neighbour, arrived at maturity through centuries of imperfections, found thee a child, and, counting it a crime in thee to be a child, made a murderous assault on thee!

The negotiations between England and the South African Republic were still progressing when England sent troops, not only to the Transvaal, but also the Free State borders. What else but undisguised hostility could the Governments of the two Republics see in this action of England? They were compelled by it to prepare themselves for any emergency; and enjoined, in consequence, the landdrosts to instruct the commandants of all the districts of the two States to commandeer the burghers. This commandeering took place on 2nd of October 1899. It was on Sunday, and many a Boer had gathered his household around him, and was sitting with his Bible open before him, while he was conducting his Sunday family worship, when the field-cornet, or other person sent in his stead, came and told him that he had to appear at a certain place, with his horse, saddle and bridle, rifle and thirty rounds of ammunition, and rations for eight days.

The Harrismith Commando was ordered to muster on the farm—The Oaks; and most of the burghers composing it arrived there next day. We proceeded thence to Tantjesberg, and approached in the course of a few days the boundary between the Orange Free State and Natal, on the grand range of the Drakensberg. To this border other Free State commandos numbering in all about 8000 men came, while a like number were sent to the western boundary, and a small force to the Basutoland line.

The southern border of the district of Harrismith was the line which had to be guarded, between the Orange Free State and Natal. The commandos, therefore, which had come from other places to this boundary, had to pass somewhere through the district of Harrismith. This happened in due course. During the week all the commandos passed east or west of, or through the town. The Bethlehem burghers pitched their laager on the south-west near Binghamsberg, a precipitous mountain which Erasmus Smit, the missionary who accompanied the Voortrekkers, called Kerkenberg (Church Hill) in his Journal. This he did because a great cleft of a tremendous rock at the foot of the mountain, in which the name of Piet Retief is written in green paint, afforded ample space for conducting divine worship. The Heilbron Commando went to Bezuidenhout's Pass, and the Kroonstad to Tintwa. The burghers of Winburg marched past on the east of Platberg, and pitched their camp at Van Reenen, near the line of railway; while the men of the Harrismith and Vrede Commandos went farther east to Botha's Pass, and formed the connection with the line of the Transvaal forces on the west of Majuba.

It rained a great deal when these Boer forces hastened to the Drakensberg. I remember very well how the Heilbron and Kroonstad burghers rode through the town of Harrismith in the rain. Notwithstanding the depressing nature of the weather, everybody was cheerful, and all looked with boundless trust in God into the future. The Heilbron burghers did not remain in the town, but the men of Kroonstad waited at the church until their greatcoats and blankets, which they hung on the railings, were dry. Meanwhile our women poured out warm coffee for the men, and began thus to take their share in the great strife, which had begun.

I must here make mention of the manner in which the Government took the interests to heart of such as had been deprived of their employment through the new state of things. It appointed a commission in every town, whose duty it was to inquire into the condition of the needy and to distribute flour and mealie meal, wherever they found that there was great want. The Government also afforded facilities to the poor of earning money. It supplied the material for shirts and trousers, to be made for such burghers on commando as were in need, and paid a small sum for every garment that was made. The wives of the landdrosts and ministers were intrusted with this department. Besides this, the women of the towns were asked to bake biscuits—the Government supplying the flour for the commandos. It was beautiful to see how willingly the women undertook this hard labour. Some of them baked as much as a bag of flour in a day; and I have seen at the Harrismith Station truck loads of biscuits ready to be carried to the forces in Natal.

This baking of biscuits was one of the first proofs of the devotion and self-sacrifice of our women.

But I have anticipated a little.

At five o'clock on the 11th October 1899 the forty-eight hours, which were given by the Transvaal to England to decide whether she would withdraw her troops from the borders of the Republics, had elapsed. England had not withdrawn her troops, and it was now clear to everyone that she desired war. Everyone knew also now that from that hour we were in a state of war.

It was now the interest of every chief-commandant (Hoofd-commandant) to occupy the best positions, if possible before the English could do so. With this in view, orders were given that all commandos should be sent forward with the utmost speed, and take positions on the Drakensberg. This was done, and by the 13th of October all the passes on the great mountain range were guarded by our forces.

On the same day a meeting of Free State officers was held in the tent of General Marthinus Prinsloo, and the question was there discussed whether a flying column should not, without delay, proceed west of Ladysmith and blow up the railway bridge over the Tugela at Colenso. Most of the officers were opposed to this idea, but it was resolved instead that portions of the commandos of Heilbron, Winburg, Kroonstad, and Harrismith should descend into Natal that very night, under the command of Commandant C. J. de Villiers, who was temporarily appointed General in the place of General A. P. Cronje. This force would have to co-operate with the Transvaal commandos and endeavour to cut off the retreat of the English at Dundee.

I was present when the Harrismith men were ready to go. How well I remember the command given by the brave and never-to-be-forgotten Field-Cornet Jan Lyon—

"Four deep!"

I see him in my mind's eye now, while I write, placing himself, every inch a soldier, at the head of his men and riding away.

After him came Field-Cornet Z. J. de Beer with the Harrismith town burghers. They rode past in splendid form, with the Free State flag bravely fluttering in the breeze. Something thrilled through my being when I saw these men, all of whom I knew, ride away into the great unknown. I knew that some of them would never tread Free State soil again.

And it happened sooner than I thought.

Next day Field-Cornet de Beer collided with the Carbineers not far from Bester's Station, and the first burgher of the Harrismith Commando was killed. To the best of my knowledge he was the first victim of the war: his name was Jonson.

The Carbineers had attacked the men of Field-Cornet de Beer on a ridge, and bombarded them with a Maxim. Our burghers held their ground until Field-Cornet Lyon arrived with a reinforcement and charged the Carbineers on their right wing. The English could not resist this onslaught and betook themselves to flight, never resting until they arrived out of breath at Ladysmith. One of their officers, Lieutenant Galway, was taken prisoner, and sent to Harrismith. The camp of the Carbineers also fell into our hands, and the burghers were immensely pleased with the little light green tents they found. These were very portable, and went far and wide with the burghers in later stages of the war.

After addressing the Winburg men, I had returned to Harrismith on the morning of the 18th, and was an eye-witness of the intense excitement of the town during the next few days, when news of battles fought in the north of Natal arrived. We heard of the fight at Glencoe on the 20th October, at Elandslaagte on the 21st, and at Rietfontein (Modderspruit) on the 24th. In the first two the Transvaalers had been engaged, in the last the Free Staters.

I was very strongly affected, and felt after the news of Rietfontein came that I could not remain at Harrismith. I therefore decided to go to Natal without delay and join the Harrismith Commando. On Friday the 27th October I took leave of my wife and children, and arrived in the afternoon at the headquarters of General Marthinus Prinsloo. He was very kind, and provided a cart for my journey and that of Dr. Cilliers who also wished to go into Natal. Next day I arrived at Bester's Station, and had the opportunity of visiting the burghers who had been wounded in the fight at Rietfontein. I was especially glad to see Mr. Jacobus de Jager of Loskop. As he was temporarily hors de combat, he offered me a horse and his own saddle for a time. I was of course very grateful and accepted his offer with alacrity.

After breakfast, next morning, I set out with the object of finding the Harrismith Commando, and soon came to Smith's Crossing. There I saw what a farm looked like where looting had taken place. Some of our burghers had destroyed everything there that was not firmly built on, or planted in the ground. The windows were smashed, the doors torn off, and everything that was of value or use was carried away. Presses and chests of drawers had been broken open, furniture dashed to pieces, pillows and mattresses cut open, and everywhere about there were lying scattered in dreadful confusion, feathers of pillows and beds, pieces of furniture, torn books, photographs, plates, pots, pans, even articles of female attire.

The sight of this affected me very unfavourably, as I found it did many others too. Several remarked that we were not fighting for booty, but for the sacred cause of our independence. But the foreigners fighting among us against England laughed at our scruples. Destruction of property, they said, was a part of the war, and England would destroy our farms worse when once she began.

None of us would believe this assertion of the foreigners then. We know now how true it was. It is nearly three years now since I looked at the destruction at Smith's Crossing, and what have I not seen since of the destruction carried out by England? Everything done by the Boers is as dust in the balance, when compared with the devastation carried out by the British soldiers.

Now English officers, when taxed with the barbarity with which they devastated the farms in the two Republics, have been accustomed to retort that it was we who began the game. To this it can be replied that the Boers destroyed the houses of those only who had fled from their farms, and had thus shown that they were hostile to us; that even this was not done by order of the Boer Generals, nay, was done contrary to the express orders forbidding the destruction of farms, and that it was never carried out so ruthlessly as it was later by the English troops. The houses were never committed to the flames by the Boers, nor did they blow up any farmstead with dynamite. But the steadings in the Free State and Transvaal were destroyed by fire or dynamite by order of a British Field-Marshal, and later of a British Commander-in-Chief. And there were hundreds of cases where this took place over the heads of women and children, who were immediately after the destruction exposed to the wet weather in summer and the cold of winter. Nothing approaching such barbarity was ever done by the Boers. If, therefore, the English were making reprisals in burning the farms, they avenged themselves not as Cain seven times, but as Lamech seventy times seven.

I did not have to go far from Smith's Crossing. I found the Harrismith burghers three miles to the west of Ladysmith, near the homestead of Mr. Gert Potgieter. They consisted of what was called a horse-commando, they were encumbered with no convoy, and only two or three waggons (one of them carrying ammunition) stood about. The difference between the camp here and the great laagers on the Drakensberg, with their walls of encircling waggons, struck me. Here there was nothing besides the little brown canvas Free State tents, and the beautiful little green tents taken from the Carbineers on the 18th. One would be much in want of many things, I thought, in a horse-commando, and life in it would be in the utmost degree repulsive, to a person especially with studious predilections, to whom the four walls of a study were more attractive than the wide, wide plains under the great blue vault above. I thought so then, but the time was coming when we should not have even little Carbineer tents.

However inhospitable a "horse-commando" appeared, the burghers were not so. They were mostly members of my congregation, and received me with the utmost cordiality. They gave me something to eat—just what they had ready—Kaboemielies, (boiled maize). What better—what more nutritious food could they have given me than mealies? Many a Boer poet has sung the praises of the mealies, but the inspiration of each has failed.

The day after I arrived in the laager, the 30th October, the battle of Nicholson's Nek was fought. It was in this fight that Christian de Wet made his first appearance. He was then an acting Commandant, and led about 200 men up the hill, where he captured 800 British troops. The Transvaal burghers were also engaged that day and took 400 soldiers prisoners, so that we captured 1200 in all. I was not present. I only saw from a great distance our shells exploding on the battlefield, and I can therefore give no description of what took place.

I met the Rev. P. Roux, who was subsequently appointed General, next day. He told me that he came on the scene just when the fight was over. He had been struck, he said, by the distress of the wounded. It was terrible to see what they were suffering in the broiling sun. He had also spoken to several English officers. One had said in a surly tone of voice: "This is only a beginning." Mr. Roux had replied: "Yes, and we are quite satisfied with it."

CHAPTER II
A NIGHT MARCH

It was decided to invest Ladysmith, and the Free State burghers were ordered to occupy positions towards the north-west, west, and south of the town. The Transvaalers took the opposite ridges and hills.

Why did not the Boers make an onslaught on the town after the fight at Rietfontein—why did not they do so after Nicholson's Nek?—or failing this, why did they besiege Ladysmith? Why did they not leave an opening on the south for the English to retire by?

Such questions have been repeatedly put after all was past, and it was seen what might have been done. But the people who put these questions assume circumstances which did not exist. For instance, it was altogether impossible in the as yet unorganised state of the commandos of the two States to venture on a united assault on Ladysmith, after either Rietfontein or Nicholson's Nek. And it is quite dubious whether the English wished to retire southwards. In fact the contrary appears to be the case, for they might have evacuated the town, if they had wished, before the 2nd of November,—eight days after Rietfontein,—on which date the Boers had completed the investment of the town. The British had, in point of fact, during those eight days not only shown no signs of any desire to leave the town, but they had made a sortie, which had resulted in the fiasco at Nicholson's Nek on the 30th of November.

It appears thus, when everything is taken into consideration, that no General would have acted otherwise than General Joubert did; and nobody, indeed, did think, during the siege of Ladysmith, that it was a mistake to be doing so. It was only later that all manner of mistakes were discovered in the besieging of Ladysmith, and not only of Ladysmith, but also of Mafeking and Kimberley.

The town was besieged. That is a fact. I have only to do with that fact now, and I am going to relate how the Free State commandos did their part of the work.

On the day after Nicholson's Nek, certain Free State Commandants were told by General A. P. Cronje, who had arrived on the 24th October and assumed his command, to march their burghers to the south of Ladysmith, and take up positions somewhere near or on the farm, Fouries Kraal. These burghers consisted of portions of the commandos of Harrismith, under Commandant C. J. de Villiers; Vrede, Commandant Anthony Lombaard; and Heilbron, Commandant L. Steenekamp. General Cronje was in command of the whole force.

Mr. Jan Wessels of Harrismith was appointed as guide, and the force began to move as soon as it got dark. This was my first experience of about a hundred night marches in which I took part during the war, and I must confess that it was one of the worst I was ever in. I learned to know the Africander in one of his weak points—his impatience of discipline. I saw how he rebelled against what was the legitimate authority under which he should have submitted.—How different it became later in the war! As I write now nearly three years have passed since that night march, and if I compare it with the night trek, for instance, of the 23rd of February 1902 (of which I shall give an account later), it is well-nigh impossible to believe that the strong, obedient burgher of 1902 is the same man as the almost unbridled one of the end of 1899.

Everything was in chaotic confusion. One would have imagined that the burghers stood under no orders whatever, and yet orders had been issued. They were openly disregarded. It had been ordered, for instance, that there should be no smoking, and yet all along the route—we were going from the rear to the van—little flashes of light could be seen of matches, with which the men lighted their pipes. Nobody bothered his head about the question as to whether these lights could show our whereabouts to the enemy. Then the men had been told to proceed in absolute silence, and yet there was not even an attempt to do so. Besides a dreadful din which was raised by the drivers of the mules that were inspanned in the gun-carriages, the burghers conversed quite loudly, cracked jokes, and laughed in explosive guffaws—for all the world as if they were on some errand which involved no danger. In my immediate vicinity there was a young burgher of the name of Adriaan Venter—he was nicknamed Dapperman because of his gallant behaviour at Rietfontein. Well, this young fellow never wearied of saying funny things; and I heard him use now for the first time his favourite expression, "Jij is laat" (you are too late). This expression was soon adopted by everybody in the field, and was used whenever anybody had missed what he had had in view. Dapperman kept himself and all about him in the best of spirits from the beginning to the end of that night march, and it never entered his mind that scouts of the enemy might be a hundred yards from us. Nothing struck me more than the entire thoughtlessness of the burghers.

Just after we had begun to march, the clouds lowered, and it became very dark. We could not see one another. The jokes of Dapperman only told me that he was still near. Then it began to rain, and the road became slippery. We progressed more and more slowly until at length we almost came to a standstill. This was caused through the difficulty which was encountered in taking the cannons through Sand River. The road at the drift had become so slippery that it was next to impossible for the mules to stand.

And meanwhile the darkness became thicker. I wondered whether I should be able to see my hand if I held it before my eyes. Yes I could, so what had been said of darkness so dense that you could not see your hand before your eyes was not applicable here. Still, it was so dark that you could not see the man you touched next you.

How provoking our slow progress was. We went twenty yards, and then we halted for five or ten minutes. Then off we went again, and came to a dead stop after we had progressed not more than twenty or twenty-five yards. What were they doing in front, we were wondering; and the answer came: "The guns can't get on."

Thus it went on until midnight. The General saw then that he could not proceed, and ordered us to stop. We halted just where we were on either side of the road we were travelling along.

Did the English know anything about us? I asked myself. There was nothing to prevent it. Not only was it so dark that English scouts could have been moving about among us, but we had shown them where we were with our matches, and the noise we had made had revealed the direction of our march. What, thought I, if they sent a shower of shells on us as soon as it became light But this did not happen. The enemy had not yet recovered from what they had suffered at Nicholson's Nek, and a few days would elapse before a sortie from Ladysmith was again undertaken.

The morning broke dark and damp. Clouds hung low in the sky and it looked like rain. This was not encouraging. Nor was it encouraging when we saw how little we had got on in the night. We were not more than two or three miles from where we had begun. But we had to go on now—daylight or not, whether we were seen or not.

The whole force came into motion. It was a beautiful sight to see the commandos together. I looked back from the van. The force was riding over a great level space. There were at least two thousand together. An insignificant number—but for us, the troops of two poor little republics, it was large.

The clouds did not deceive us. We had hardly begun to march when several heavy showers fell, and the prospect of a wet day was not pleasant. But to the relief of all the weather cleared up before nine o'clock, and the beautiful spring day followed: one of those days of unclouded sky which are so rousing and vivifying in South Africa. After a short morning trek we halted for breakfast, and then continued our march.

And now it began to be interesting.

A small body of Harrismith burghers had been told off to ride some miles in advance, while the main body came on behind. Nobody could know what might happen behind the ridges and kopjes which we were constantly approaching and passing. The utmost care was observed. We halted frequently until from time to time the reconnaissance of the country in front was satisfactorily completed. Now and then we saw living objects in the distance, and we could not know, of course, whether they were not scouts of the enemy; but after Marthinus Potgieter had observed the ridge or kopje through his long telescope and declared that the figures were Kaffir women, and after our scouts had passed without adventure, we knew that all was well, and went on.

We arrived at the house of an English missionary about twelve o'clock, and Commandant de Villiers turned aside to see him. The missionary showed signs of anxiety, and seemed to fear that harm would be done to him. Commandant de Villiers assured him that nothing would happen, if he put a white flag on the gable of his house as a sign that he was a non-combatant. I accompanied the Commandant, and enjoyed a cup of tea which the good wife of the missionary gave us. While we were drinking the tea I heard children's voices in another part of the house, and I was affected by them. A child always touches what is most tender in me. And here I remember that I was especially moved by the sharp contrast between those sweet children's voices and the harsh voices which I had heard during the last few days of men talking about nothing but the war.

We hastened forward, and had scarcely reached the main body when we saw in the distance some of our scouts galloping back. Field-Cornet Jan Lyon thereupon set spurs to his horse, and dashed forward with a small body of burghers. Soon we learned that, while a portion of our scouts were proceeding along a cutting near Onderbroek Spruit, they were fired upon by some Irish Fusiliers, who had concealed themselves behind huge boulders on the roadside. Isaac du Plessis was wounded in the thigh. The other portion of our advance party had gone over the hill, west of the road, and had fired on the Irish Fusiliers, with the result that they were driven off.

Isaac du Plessis was my first case. I bandaged him as well as I could, and he was sent away for proper medical treatment.

We passed by the spot where the incident had occurred, and I saw the corpse of a soldier lying on the roadside. He had been shot by our men from the hill. He lay on his back, and had been covered by our burghers with grass. How well I remember the emotion that passed through me when I saw there for the first time the corpse of a man killed in action. How many it would be my lot to see and—bury.

Nothing further happened, until we arrived late in the afternoon at a spot on the high ranges of hills between Colenso and Ladysmith, about three miles east of the main road. I went with two others over the range, and they pointed out to me the tents of the English garrison, on the left bank of the Tugela, near the village of Colenso. The view was grand. A vast plain lay stretched out before us, and through it the greatest river of Natal was cutting its way, and swiftly descending to a series of rapids and falls into precipitous abysses. We stayed and looked upon the great scene until the fast falling shades of night warned us to return to the laager. Soon we were wrapped in deep and restoring sleep, for we were very tired.

CHAPTER III
BESIEGERS AND BESIEGED

Ladysmith was now completely surrounded. It was besieged on the north and east by the Transvaal and on the west and south by the Free State commandos.

Early on the morning after we had marched to the south—on 2nd November—Field-Cornet Jan Lyon went with a body of men to Pieter's Station, broke up the rails there, and took the telegraph clerk prisoner. While he was doing this the two guns which we had brought with us were being dragged up the range of hills between Ladysmith and Colenso. One of them was put on the summit of a pointed hill a little south of Platrand (Cæsar's Hill),—the other on the heights north of Colenso. I was present when Commandant de Villiers drew the latter up the precipitous slopes. There were huge boulders, as high as the wheels of a waggon, thickly strewn on the hillside, and over them the Krupp had to go. A strong span of oxen was put before the gun, and one could hear the creaking of the yokes as the oxen strained to draw the gun up, but as it became steeper and steeper it soon appeared that even the South-African ox had a task which it could not do. The wheels of the gun-carriage got jammed between the boulders and remained immovable. Then the burghers took the work in hand, and what ox-power could not do, human muscles accomplished. Some of the men seized the yokes and the trektouw,[1] and others put their shoulders to the wheel, and up flew the gun. It was not long before the Krupp made itself heard. To the English fort near Colenso it sent a few shells—but the garrison there had fled.

The Winburg Commando was encamped a little more to the north-east than we were, and had an early surprise. While they were engaged in broiling meat for breakfast there were heard in sharp succession the reports of guns, and immediately several shells fell right in their midst. It is needless to say that there was a confused scramble in search of cover; but fortunately nobody was hurt. The enemy, having given an exhibition of their gun practice, retired immediately to Ladysmith.

The next day General A. P. Cronje sent 900 men chosen from all the commandos to take a ridge south-west of Ladysmith, not far from the house of Mr. Willem Bester, in order to oppose the enemy, who had made a sortie from Ladysmith in considerable numbers, on the road leading to Colenso.

From this ridge the burghers opened a steady fire on the approaching English, who were also subjected to a heavy and continuous bombardment. This went on for a considerable time, and then a number of mounted troops charged the ridge, but were repulsed. After that others rode into a donga to the west of our positions, and leaving their horses in it, emerged with the object of taking possession of a low reef of rock between themselves and us. But here, too, they were unsuccessful. Our men opened such a withering fire on them that they were obliged to abandon their design.

At this moment about 150 of the enemy gained possession of a hill to the south with the object of surrounding us by the east. Sixty Winburg and Harrismith burghers seeing this, charged them; but the bullets of the English fell so thickly on them that forty of them turned back, so that only twenty reached the top. There, however, they found themselves in such a terrific fire that they could do nothing, and were obliged to seek cover behind large boulders. Such was the state of things when our Krupp on the pointed hill sent a well-aimed shell among the English, and at once changed matters. The shell was followed without delay by another, and when the fourth came the enemy was compelled to retire. Then it was our opportunity. The twenty burghers emerged from their hiding-places and fired upon the retiring English, and the hill was quickly cleared.

While this was going on I was with the Harrismith Commando, which was madly galloping as a reinforcement to the fight. We had to pass a spot where shots occasionally fell, and as we raced along there, I heard for the first time in my life the whiz of a passing bullet. We went on, and arrived on the hill. But all was just then over, and we could only see the English retreating to Ladysmith. Twice or thrice yet they fired shrapnels at us, and again I had a first experience. It was of the sound, sharp and shrill, of a shrapnel that went over our heads. I don't know in what other words it can be described.

What a tyranny fear is! At the foot of the hill I saw a young burgher, utterly overpowered by it, lying behind a large stone and not daring to raise his head.

"Are you wounded?" somebody asked him.

"No," answered the terror-stricken youth, and pressed still closer to the stone.

I met Mr. Roux here again, and assisted him to bandage the burgher Gibson, who had been badly wounded in the leg. Two others also were wounded.

Nothing further happened now, and in the evening we were in our little field tents again.

During the following three days there was an armistice in order to enable the enemy to get their women, children, and non-combatants out of Ladysmith into the Intombi Camp, between the town and Bulwana.

On Sunday, the 5th of November, our commando went to Pieter's Station. I had preached early in the morning for the burghers of Vrede; and now, after we had inspected the station, we gathered under a great camel tree, and had a most pleasant service. Just before the service some burghers slipped away unobserved and sped to Colenso. Arrived there, they helped themselves to what they fancied they needed in the shops. While they were thus engaged, an armoured train came from Chieveley, and began to fire on them.

We were lying unconcerned in the shadow of the great camel tree, when Commandant de Villiers got the report that some burghers were hemmed in at Colenso. He immediately gave orders that the horses should be saddled and rode thither, but we heard on the way that the culprits had, by the skin of their teeth, made their escape under a shower of bullets.

When we were returning to our laager, we met Kaffirs who had fled from Ladysmith. They drew a terrible picture of the state of the town. They told us that there were still unburied soldiers there, and that a bad smell pervaded the town. Women and children too had to endure great suffering, and were obliged to hide in holes which had been scooped out in the river's bank.

We did not know then that we had to take Kaffir reports with a grain of salt.

Towards the 10th of November the Free State laagers lay around Ladysmith in this order: Near the railway line to the east of Smith's Crossing was the laager of the Kroonstad Commando. To the west of the line, General Prinsloo had fixed his headquarters; and thence round to the south stood in succession the laagers of the Bethlehem, Vrede, Heilbron, Harrismith, and Winburg Commandos. Each Commandant had one or two guns. Commandant de Villiers had charge of two. For these he built forts on the hill upon which the 150 English were shelled in the fight of the 3rd of November. This hill lay to the west of Mr. Bester's house.

We Harrismith burghers pitched our camp at several places, but at last we fixed it permanently at the south-west of this hill. From the forts on the top of the hill you can see close at hand in the direction of Ladysmith the Neutral Kopje. Right before you in the depth you see the house of Mr. Bester, and there on the other side of the kloof rises Platrand, or Cæsar's Hill, on which the English are making forts and sangars. Every now and then you see a cloud of smoke from our cannon-forts, and a Krupp sends a shell on Platrand, to which the English with splendid aim promptly reply. From every side and every schanz the forts of the English were bombarded. The big gun of the Transvaalers on Bulwana, to which the British gave the name of Long Tom, was especially active, and sent its great shells regularly every day into the town.

And now we were living in the constant expectation that Ladysmith would speedily fall into our hands. Our expectations were also constantly strengthened by Kaffir reports. There was, the Kaffirs told us, very little food in the town, and the distress was great. Week after week, therefore, we were expecting that Ladysmith would capitulate, but week after week Ladysmith held out.

On the 14th of November another fight took place. The English made a sortie to the south-west of the town, and attacked a position where there were eighty men of the Vrede Commando. They opened a heavy cannonade on the rand and made it almost untenable for the burghers there. Then our guns came to the rescue. The two Harrismith Krupps fired on the rear of the enemy. Others assisted, and everything was managed so effectively that the English had to retire precipitously. A man came to our laager in the evening and told us that he was in the Vrede position while it was being shelled. It had been terrible, he said. One poor fellow, a young burgher of the name of De Jager, had been hit in four places, while lying behind a boulder, by a shrapnel—three bullets had struck him in the shoulders and one in the head, and he had died immediately. Two others were slightly wounded.

Our laager had not been out of danger. A piece of a shell had fallen in it. Afterwards this happened frequently. Bits of missiles sent from Platrand to the cannon-forts above now and again came into our camp, to the great amusement of those who did not happen to be in danger at the moment. How funny it was to see the men near the spot scramble to cover when the danger was past.

About this time the Bethlehem Commando made a large capture of cattle. Some Coolies were taken prisoners on the occasion. Everybody naturally besieged the prisoners to hear something about Ladysmith. The wily Indians took in the situation at once, and told us what they knew would be agreeable to us. They "spoke comfortably to our hearts," and depicted the condition of the town in the most appalling colours.

Just at this time too—on the 15th of November—Commandant-General Joubert sent, under the command of General L. Botha, 1600 Transvaalers and 500 Free Staters to Estcourt. Some of them came into action with an armoured train near Chieveley. From the train a vigorous fire was opened on the Transvaalers, who replied with cannon and rifle. Some Free State burghers were in advance and attempted to break up the railway. But as they had no tools to do this with, they could not, and instead raised the rails on one side and placed big stones underneath. The train then steamed back and two trucks were derailed. Immediately, under a heavy fire from us, the English set to work to remove the stones, and then the engine went backwards and forwards and came with every forward motion into collision with the trucks. It succeeded soon in removing the impediment, and sped away with the trucks which had not been derailed. Fifty-six troops and three civilians were taken prisoners. Among these was Mr. Winston Churchill, who escaped later in a very clever manner from the Model School at Pretoria, in which he was being kept confined as a prisoner of war.

We heard of this affair with the armoured train while we were chatting in very rainy weather in the tent of Commandant de Villiers. It was dripping wet outside and the laager had been converted into a perfect puddle of mud by hundreds of feet. General J. B. Wessels and Commandant Theunissen of the Winburg Commando were there on a visit. We were talking about the armoured train, and presently General Wessels related that a man had been taken prisoner the day before by the Winburg burghers. This man had been found in a Kaffir hut, and had with him a basket of pigeons, which he had brought from Maritzburg to smuggle into Ladysmith. But as Dapperman said, "He was too late."

It did rain that day! and in the evening a steady downpour set in. I sympathised with the sentries and outposts, who had to take duty on the top and the slopes of the hill. What a cheerless thing it was, I thought, to sit through the livelong dripping night with no shelter, and to gaze into the darkness.

I can give no account of the adventures of the expedition which General Joubert sent to Estcourt, as I did not accompany it. I can only say that the burghers composing it did not remain long south of the Tugela, and were obliged by great numbers of troops to return to Ladysmith. General Joubert, however, said that he had succeeded in his object of preventing all the English troops from massing on the western borders of the Free State.

Shortly before the expedition was sent to Estcourt, the portions of the several commandos which had been left on the Drakensberg were ordered to descend into Natal and join the besiegers of Ladysmith. They arrived in due time, and brought all the waggons with them. We had after that the convenience of a laager. Tents of every shape and size soon sprang up everywhere between the great waggons, and nobody who was not actually on duty needed to have any apprehension with regard to heat, or cold, or wet. There were indeed several who had raised their voices against the bringing down of the waggons, and had said that they would prove to be an encumbrance, in case a hasty retreat became necessary, but the majority of the burghers were bent upon taking it easy—even in the war—and demanded that the waggons should be brought down.

As far as I was concerned, though I did not approve of the presence of the waggons, it was a personal pleasure to have a large square tent with a table in it. Writing on a table was a decided improvement to writing on a book, or a pad, on one's knees, or on the ground.

That tent in which I wrote!—how I remember it, while I am in Cape Town writing my book over again.

The time passed swiftly, though it dragged from moment to moment. This was one of the first things that struck me in the war. I would wake in the morning and feel the duty of the day lying on me, as a burden which could not be lifted. But when the shadows of night had fallen I found that the burden had been borne. It often seemed as if the future lay far beyond my reach, but after an hour, a day, a month was past, the hours seemed to be seconds, the days hours, and the months weeks.

The burghers were terribly bored in the laager? Why? They wanted nothing. The Government provided meat, bread (in the shape of meal), coffee, sugar, potatoes,—sometimes tobacco;—we even lived in luxury, for our wives sent us fruit and vegetables, cake and sweets. Why, then, did the burghers feel bored in the laager?

The reason is that the Africander is not a soldier, who can take kindly to camp or barrack life. The Boer detests a confined life, and whenever he is away from the open plain, and the free breezes of heaven, he is miserable. Thus it was that every burgher now longed to be back on his farm.

How I pitied the Commandant! He was continually besieged by burghers asking leave to go home. They asked for leave on the slightest pretexts, or with no pretext whatever; for they would give as a reason for leave of absence the work which had to be done on the farms. The women looked after that as well as, and in many cases better than, the men themselves had done. No, in the majority of cases there was no sound excuse to justify a request for leave. It was simply because they could not stand the confinement of the life in a laager.

Towards the end of the third week in November, one of the heavy guns of the Transvaal—another Long Tom—was brought into the Harrismith laager in order to be placed on the hill where our two guns stood. What a monster it was!

A wooden platform of thick deal beams was constructed in the fort, and Long Tom was drawn into position during the night. On the following morning it fired on the forts at Platrand (Cæsar's Hill), and the terrific recoil splintered the stout beams of the platform as if they had been thin lathes. The platform had to be rebuilt and rendered stronger.

While we were doing this, the English were not idle. They were busy putting a heavy gun on Platrand into position; and on the following day they sent shell after shell, which pulverised the rocks and ploughed the ground, but which happily did no injury to Long Tom.

On Sunday, 26th November, I visited the Bethlehem laager with the intention of holding divine service there. On arriving, I found everything in a state of hurry and bustle. Here someone was roasting coffee, there another was shoeing his horse, yonder a third was greasing the axles of his waggon. The cause of all this activity was that the commando had been ordered to the western border by the War Commission, and that they were preparing to start.

I succeeded in my intention of addressing the burghers, and took as my text the comforting words of St. Paul: "Be of good cheer: for I trust in God, that it shall be even as it was told me."

A fortnight afterwards, Acting-Commandant Christian de Wet was appointed General, and likewise ordered to the western border. His achievement at Nicholson's Nek had fixed the attention of the War Commission on him, and he was now called to take upon himself the rank and important duties of a General. I had no suspicion then that Christian de Wet had begun the career which would make him famous throughout South Africa; nay, throughout the world!

Thus far we had busied ourselves exclusively with the enemy hemmed in at Ladysmith; but on the 28th of November the Boers were also threatened from the south of the Tugela. On that day a considerable number of troops advanced from the direction of Chieveley, and opened a heavy fire on the Boer positions north of the river, with about twelve guns. The Boers replied, and our shells fell upon the British until they were forced to retire.

Platrand! What enchantment hung over that hill! From the first moment that we had come south of Ladysmith, it had been the talk of everyone that the hill should be taken; and about a week after the investment of the town, Commandant de Villiers had actually made a night march with the object of making an assault on it; but General Joubert had recalled him before he could begin the attack. Since then the cry had ever been: "The hill must be taken!" At last, wearied of the continual nagging, the combined War Council of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State decided that 900 men should storm the hill during the night of the 29th-30th of November.

Many considered the decision unwise. They were of opinion that the hill could not be taken without great loss of life, and that it was doubtful, after it was taken, whether it could be held. Nobody, however, opposed, and preparations were made to set out at two o'clock on the 30th of November.

Something, however, intervened.

At ten o'clock in the evening some Transvaal officers entered the tent of Commandant de Villiers, and pointed out that there was no shelter for the storming party, and that the dongas at the foot of the hill, instead of affording shelter, would prove disadvantageous to us in case we were forced to retire. One officer after another entered the tent until there were fifteen together, and all were opposed to the project of storming the place. At one o'clock they had convinced one another that Platrand could not be taken, and took it upon themselves to disobey the orders of the Council of War, and so far from storming Platrand at two o'clock, everyone was sound asleep in his bed at that hour. The evil day was postponed.

On 7th December my son Charlie, aged 15, arrived in the laager. I had left him behind at Harrismith to go to school, but it was impossible to keep him there, and he had come to the laager at the first opportunity, after receiving my consent. When he had been with me but a short while he got a Lee-Metford from his friend Jan Cilliers, which had been taken at Dundee.

At this time it became clearer and clearer that some event or other might with certainty be expected from the south. The British Commander-in-Chief in Natal, General Buller, had been there for some weeks, and had had plenty of time to prepare himself. There was no doubt that he had been busy, for more and more troops had come from Durban, until the camps at Chieveley had grown to amazingly large proportions. Everyone then was expecting that something was going to happen soon.

But in the meanwhile something took place closer to us, which filled us with shame and indignation. In the night of the 7th-8th of December a number of English climbed Lombard's Kop, where the heavy gun of the Transvaalers was. They approached the fort in the greatest silence, but the picquet became aware of their approach and cried, "Werda?"

Someone answered in good Dutch, "Don't shoot. We are the Modderspruit burghers."

This satisfied the picquet, and the next moment the enemy was in the fort.

Our men were taken by surprise, but they fired notwithstanding, and a few English were wounded.

The few men in the fort were now forced to yield, and retreated before overwhelming odds. Then the British damaged Long Tom so seriously that it could not be used again for fifteen days. They also partially destroyed a French quick-firing gun and captured a Maxim.

That same night another party of English damaged the railway bridge at Waschbank (near Dundee) in such a manner as to stop the running of trains for some days.

These two exploits of the English roused a feeling of dissatisfaction in the minds of the burghers. They considered it a dishonour to us, and although there were rumours of treachery, the general opinion was that it was rather the carelessness and want of vigilance on our side that was to blame. Everyone, on the contrary, meted out unlimited praise to the English, and said that they had done a gallant thing.

Two days after it was Sunday, and I held divine services in different places, according to my custom. On the same day, the Free Staters captured a Kaffir, who had brought letters, sewn under the lining of his sleeve, out of Ladysmith.

Those letters! How thoughtlessly they were read. Who cared that they were the utterances of the heart, even though the heart of an enemy? Who, whilst reading them, asked of himself: "What would I desire the enemy to do, if a letter of mine should fall into their hands?" These letters were from soldiers and civilians, mostly from husband to wife, or from wife to husband. They bore witness to a very miserable state of things in Ladysmith. One woman wrote that she lacked the common necessaries of life; another that she went barefoot. Besides private letters there was a report announcing that the troops were reduced to half rations, and that many of them were sick; and also that an unknown disease had broken out amongst the cattle.

Every day something happened, and the time passed rapidly. Was it not because there was always something to keep us busy? Yes, a thousand acts were crowded into each day.

The heart was filled with ever-changing emotions by the various occurrences of each day. And one's mind was not occupied by the war only. No! One's thoughts were drawn away irresistibly by the blue expanse overhead, and by the wondrous landscape around, stretching away to the finest horizons on earth. We lived in God's free nature, and as we came nearer to her great heart throbbing in the grey veld and the blue mountain, those of us who could felt ourselves borne away by a delicious but withal terrible Power. How glorious, too, were the evenings! How soothing was their deep silence after the exhausting, bustling summer's day! And then there was the breath of air from the east, which softly fanned the cheek, and calmed and laid to rest the turbulent passions that rent the breast.

I used to sit of an evening beneath the camel thorn-tree, under which Commandant de Villiers had pitched his tent, and gaze into the far west. There lay Spion Kop, tinted pink by the last rays of the setting sun. Far beyond rose the Drakensberg mountains with their rugged, dizzy crags, scored and scarred, already veiled in the shadows of night. What a thrill quivered through me when I presently looked up from that dark mass and saw the glittering gold, which had been laid for a moment on the clouds; or when, after the sun had set, turning, I beheld in the east the wonderful maze of colour in the sky. The soft pink merged into almost black purple, and this again, as if in need of support, rested on the blue black rock foundation of the earth.

I forgot in such moments that we were at war. I was deaf to the discordant sounds of the strife—the bursting of shells, and the whiz of bullets. It was as if I heard God speaking in the still small voice.

Can I ever forget those evenings? I am living them over again. I still gaze into that distant west, and seem to see the Unseen in that wonderful vision: God, the Incomprehensible, the Unsearchable. I see how He paints every evening a new picture on the mountains and on the clouds. But He hides Himself in His picture. It is the robe, indeed, in which He reveals Himself, but it is only the border, as Isaiah says, the border of His robe: only the hem of His garment, and it—fills the Temple!

CHAPTER IV
GENERAL BULLER'S FIRST GREAT ATTEMPT TO BREAK THROUGH

Since the beginning of November we had heard, as I have already said, that Sir Redvers Buller had landed at Cape Town, and that he was in supreme command of the troops in Natal. We also knew that he was busy preparing himself for a grand attack upon our forces around Ladysmith, in order thus to relieve Sir George White there.

Towards the end of November General Joubert received reports every day of how matters were proceeding south of the Tugela. It was reported to him that large numbers of troops were continually arriving from Durban, and were occupying immense camps at Chieveley. Now, as it was impossible to know exactly where General Buller would try to break through, it was necessary to place commandos up and down the Tugela, with Colenso as a centre. This was done. Various Transvaal commandos took possession of the ridges opposite Colenso, and others were sent to the east of the railway across the river to Klangwane, a wooded hill a few miles east of the village, while General A. P. Cronje with from 1500 to 2000 men trekked about twelve miles to the west.

I will here mention the names of the Transvaal commandos that occupied the ridges opposite Colenso, because it was by them that the attack of General Buller was repulsed. They consisted, to begin with the most easterly wing, of a portion of the Krugersdorp Commando; next to them were in succession westward the burghers of Heidelberg, Boksburg, Johannesburg, the Swazieland Police; the Ermelo burghers and the Zoutpansberg Commando on the wing farthest west.

These men worked night and day digging trenches and throwing up earthworks. They did not make these works on the top of the mountain range, where one would have expected them to, but on low ridges close to the river. The enemy would thus, in case they attacked, first bombard the wrong places, and the troops would approach to within a very short distance of the position, and be subjected to a severe rifle fire, before they knew from whence they were being fired on.

The first days of December passed by, and although there was no attack, there were, however, signs every day to show that the English were making preparations, and all held themselves in readiness.

Two or three days before the 15th of December one of the Transvaal gunners, an Englishman, deserted, and as there was reason to fear that he might acquaint the enemy with the preparations that had been made to repulse an attack, General Louis Botha changed the positions of the guns and also made the men dig other trenches and throw up new earthworks. These trenches were dug on the level ground between the ridges I have mentioned above and the river. If the former trenches were made where the enemy would not expect them, this was still the case with the new ones which were now made, as the result proved.

On the 14th of December Commandant de Villiers rode in the direction of Colenso to see if he could discover any new developments in the preparations of the enemy. He came to the top of the high hill between Colenso and the Boer laagers around Ladysmith, and saw from there that the British troops were approaching nearer and nearer to the village. He computed them at about 10,000. "To-morrow," he said, on his return to the laager, "there will certainly be a battle"; and he asked me if I wished to go to the hill on the following day, in order to see what might take place. I answered that I would like to go. Early on the following morning, December 15th, we heard the roar of the great naval guns. Commandant de Villiers had not been mistaken. The battle had commenced.

I had my horse saddled and rode to the hill with a few burghers. There lay the tiny hamlet of Colenso about five thousand yards from where we stood, and down below with great curves the majestic Tugela flowed onward, calmly and placidly. But there was no calm on its banks. The ground shook with the thunder and reverberation of the great naval guns. Everywhere, on both sides of the river, upon Boer and Briton, the shells burst and the shrapnels exploded. Far away on the horizon seven or eight miles from us, a little to the west of the railway, I saw the great camps, looking like plantations of black-wattle trees, from which the troops had marched that morning. About two miles on this side of the camps, the batteries of British field-guns stood in an irregular semicircle, and in front of these the whole plain, for about three miles to the west of the railway and a mile and a half to the east of it, was covered with troops; not in compact masses, but widely scattered.

I also saw ambulance waggons riding to and fro. When the cannons fired, no volumes of smoke rose in the air as was the case with our Krupps, so if one looked for smoke as a sign that a gun was fired, one would never know that a shell had been despatched. But even in the broad glare of the day you could constantly see a small flash, and presently a terrific crash somewhere on our positions would proclaim that a great naval gun had been fired. Our projectiles too were aimed at the troops and guns down in the plain. I could continually see our shrapnels exploding there. And the tiny shells of our Maxim-Nordenfeldts created havoc among the troops; while thousands of little clouds of dust, like those which rise when the first great raindrops of a thunderstorm fall on a dusty road, showed where the Mauser bullets fell.

The scene constantly changed.

What also struck me was, that the hundreds of small objects which I saw down there were continually appearing and disappearing. I could not at first understand what this meant; but I soon perceived that when the objects seemed to rise from nowhere it meant that the soldiers were making some dash or other to a certain spot, and when they disappeared it meant that they were forced to lie down because of a destructive hail of bullets which was poured upon them. This was the state of affairs when I reached the top of the hill.

I must now relate something of what had taken place up to that moment. General Buller had ordered four brigades of troops early that morning to make an attack on us, supported by great naval and other cannon, with the purpose of breaking through our lines and forcing a way to Ladysmith. The troops had hardly commenced their advance before General Botha perceived it, and ordered that all the men's horses without exception should be taken away from the positions. He also issued a strict command that no one should fire a shot before he gave the signal by the firing of a cannon from one of the ridges behind the burghers. Our burghers lay behind their schanzes and awaited the enemy.

It was hardly daylight when they saw the English advance—covering a breadth of nearly eight miles—the one wing about four miles west of Colenso, and the other about three miles to the east. Presently the British cannon opened a tremendous fire on the ridges behind the burghers and the shrapnel burst everywhere with terrific sound. The noise was deafening, but our men did not answer. The English advanced, the flanks approaching nearer and nearer to the centre, and there were some of our officers who sent word to General Botha, beseeching him to give the order to fire. No. He let the English come nearer and nearer. Not a Boer could they see. Nearer and nearer the troops advanced. They became over confident. The Boers had certainly fled and left the road to Ladysmith open.

Suddenly General Botha gave the command. The cannon thundered forth the signal, and a fearful storm of lead fell upon the over-confident soldiers. They had not expected it, and the shock was terrible. Nevertheless they advanced, and continued pressing forward, only to be mown down by the withering fire of our Mausers.

In the meanwhile they had discovered where our burghers were, and a fierce cannonade was directed on them, which, however, wonderful to relate, did hardly any damage.

At last the troops ceased to advance on the west wing. It was then that I arrived on the hill. But in the centre attempts were still being made to break through, and in endeavouring to do this, they approached so near to the Boer positions, a little to the east of the railway line, that they could fire on the bodyguard of General Botha and on the Krugersdorp Commando from a distance of not more than eight hundred yards. Our men opened a terrible rifle fire on the gunners, and in a moment all was quiet. Not a single cannon there fired another shot.

The English perceived that they had brought twelve guns to a spot from whence they could not get them away again. Notwithstanding this they rushed in to save the guns. From the hill above I saw how the matter went, and I do not think that a more heroic deed was done in the whole war than the rush of the English to save those guns.

It was a magnificent sight!

Team after team of horses I saw galloping in the same direction. I saw how mercilessly they were mown down by the bullets of our Mausers and the shells of our Maxim-Nordenfeldts. I saw how they persevered in their efforts, till at last they ceased their attempts.

I could not, at the moment, understand what it all meant, and thought that the English were trying to take a position, whence they could rush across the bridge, and it was only in the evening that I heard that this splendid gallantry had been displayed in order to save the guns.

Two of the twelve guns were rescued, but the English could not get away the rest. General Botha made this impossible when he sent men through the river to fetch them. These men waded the stream breast high, and took positions so near the guns that it became absolutely impossible for the British to make any further attempts, and ten of the twelve guns fell into our hands together with a number of soldiers who were there.