CHAPTER X.
THE BATTLE OF MAGERSFONTEIN.

The day after the battle the British column cleansed and occupied the Dec. 2-10, 1899.] Lord Methuen's Army Reinforced. Lord Methuen reinforced. [Dec. 7, 1899. Boer camp, and the Engineers set to work to replace the railway bridge over the Modder. So seriously had the iron girders been damaged that it was necessary to build a new timber bridge, diverting the railway. The work was by no means easy, as the Modder is liable to rise eight feet in a few hours, after the heavy thunderstorms which prevail in the country, so that the new bridge had to be of great strength, while, as the river banks are high, deep cuttings had to be excavated on either side. Yet so skilful and energetic were the railway engineers that by December 7 trains were able to cross to the British camp, and tents, supplies, and heavy baggage were sent forward to the troops. A pontoon bridge had been completed some days earlier, thus securing communications with the south. At the same time the search-light with Lord Methuen's army began nightly to exchange signals with Kimberley. Far away to the north, as the night fell, a beam of light struck the sky from the besieged city and spent its strength in the flickering dots and dashes of the Morse code. The welcome news came that all was well, and that the city was secure behind massive earthworks. While the army waited, to rest the men and give time for the arrival of reinforcements, supplies, and ammunition, it was joined by a regiment of Lancers (the 12th), the G battery of Horse Artillery, one long naval 4·7-inch gun, and four Highland battalions—the 2nd Seaforths, 1st Highland Light Infantry, 1st Gordons, and 2nd Royal Highlanders or Black Watch. Last of all, to complete its artillery, came one battery of 5-inch howitzers, firing 50-lb. shell. Thus, deducting all losses, Lord Methuen had 11,000 infantry, 850 cavalry and mounted infantry, and 750 artillery with thirty guns, not counting the naval weapons. On the line of communications were half the Northampton battalion and some small detachments from other regiments.

The last reinforcements arrived from Orange River on December 10. Three days earlier an unpleasant incident showed how easy for an active enemy would be the interruption of Lord Methuen's line of communications. Early on the morning of December 7, a detachment of Northamptons, who had been left to hold the railway at Enslin, close to the scene of Lord Methuen's victory of Graspan, heard two loud explosions. A scout was sent out to ascertain the cause, but as the grey light of dawn gave place to clear day, the origin of the explosions was manifest. A force of the enemy from Jacobsdal, 1,500 strong, with three guns, was seen to be in position to the east of the railway and close to it. The line to the north had been broken and a culvert destroyed. Fortunately, the Boers had not yet cut the telegraph wire, and just before they did so, a message was despatched to Modder River camp announcing the enemy's presence and appealing for help. At once Lord Methuen despatched the 62nd Field Battery, the 12th Lancers, and half a battalion of Highlanders to aid the hard-pressed Northamptons.

The Northamptons numbered 200, 140 of whom were posted in a small fort which had been constructed at Enslin round the station; the other sixty were upon a kopje near the fort and commanding it. The British force, though without artillery and grievously outnumbered, held its own bravely in face of the heavy Boer shell and rifle fire. At last, about noon, the 62nd Battery arrived and opened fire, and the Boers fell back, leaving on the field five dead, among whom was an officer in the uniform of the Free State artillery. The British losses were two dangerously and nine slightly wounded. General Prinsloo is known to have been in command of the Boers; his object is believed to have been the capture of the howitzer battery, the departure of which from Orange River Station for the north was known to the enemy.

The railway was rapidly repaired and communications reopened. The troops holding it were greatly strengthened by the arrival of the Canadian and Australian regiments at Belmont, thus rendering any further attempts to break the line impossible for a small force.

During the pause, the enemy's position north of Modder River was reconnoitred. It was found that the Boers had retreated only some five or six miles from Modder River, to a line of heights fifteen miles long, which ran in a semi-circle, with Merton Siding as its centre. On the left this line of heights descended in a gentle, grassy slope, covered with thick brushwood and heavily entrenched, to the River Modder, and so could not be turned. Through the centre of the position passed the railway line to Kimberley, between two strongly entrenched kopjes. Away on the enemy's right were yet more kopjes, and to the rear of the main Boer position was a second series of entrenchments at Spytfontein. The key to the whole line of works was Magersfontein, a high hill or group of hills near the Boer centre and to the east of the railway. The strength of the Boers was only vaguely known. The guesses of the scouts and the reports of friendly Kaffirs placed it at anything from 10,000 to 25,000 men. Though considerable reinforcements had been received from Natal before the battle, it is probable that it did not much exceed the former figure. Even so, it was equal or superior in strength to Lord Methuen's division, and had all the advantage of a strong position, yet further reinforced by skilfully constructed earthworks.

Guided by the lessons of the previous battles the Boers had thrown up their main lines of trenches at the foot of the hills, not on the slopes or summits. Near Magersfontein they had utilised a long, dry watercourse, which gave the most admirable protection, and which was further strengthened by trenches and earthworks. In front these works, as at the Modder, were hidden from view by the cacti and brushwood, which thickly covered the level ground. The trenches were deep enough to give ample shelter to men standing upright; bomb-proofs had been excavated, in which the men lining the defences could obtain perfect security during the artillery bombardment—the only thing feared by the Boers; finally, a high wire fence, by some lucky chance for the Boers, already existed, running along the front of the works, about 300 or 400 yards away, so as to hold assailants under fire and hamper the action of the British cavalry. This was supplemented by several lines of barbed-wire entanglement. The Boer guns were skilfully posted on the heights, as previous experience had shown that, if placed in the trenches, they drew the British fire where it was most destructive. Amongst them were one or two long-range 6-inch Creusots, several field guns, and a number of "Pom-Poms."

An American who visited their position thus describes their plan of defence at this point:—"The Boers know how to select their ground and use it with the greatest judgment. They are confident now that Methuen cannot pass them without losing half his army. Their new mode of fighting is to put great numbers of their best shots, armed with Mausers and using smokeless powder, out on the flats in rifle shelters. On the sky-line of the hills they post their Martini-Henry men with the old black powder cartridges. The latter are to draw the artillery fire, while the Mauser men in front are to shoot down the English infantry and cavalry at closer quarters. All the men have the greatest confidence in Cronje. He did not believe that the English would attack him for some time after the Modder fight, but declared that, when they did, the more men they brought the greater their loss would be."

Lord Methuen had positive orders to relieve Kimberley, and the execution of these grew harder with each day's delay. The enemy's position was steadily strengthened; fresh works were pushed out; reinforcements were called up from all quarters, as the Boers laid enormous stress upon the capture of the diamond city with Mr. Rhodes inside it. There was no obvious way round; to march off to the west and endeavour to turn the Boer right would have led the column through a waterless country, and have left the enemy free to throw their whole force upon the British line of communications, thus fatally severing Lord Methuen from his base. To march to the east, in the direction of Jacobsdal, would have meant once more crossing the Modder in the face of a highly mobile enemy, who could move two miles to the British one—in other words, a repetition of the Modder River battle. There was only sufficient transport to carry five days' supplies, so that no wide detour was possible. The last course remained—a desperate course as it proved—to take the bull by the horns and assault the Boer position full in the front.

On December 6 there was skirmishing between the Boer outposts and the British scouts, two of Rimington's "Tigers" being captured by the enemy and two Lancers wounded. On the 7th Lieutenant Tristram, of the newly arrived 12th Lancers, was so unlucky as to be badly wounded and taken prisoner when on patrol. On the 9th an artillery reconnaissance was undertaken; it began with an ineffective bombardment of the Magersfontein hills by the 4·7-inch gun. At the same time the cavalry moved out towards the gap of almost level ground between Magersfontein and the Modder and drew a scattering fire, while the horse artillery battery fired a few rounds at a distance of 6,000 yards from the Boer works without producing the slightest impression. With wise self-restraint the Boers avoided disclosing their position, and the reconnaissance taught the staff little or nothing. The greatest difficulty all through Lord Methuen's brief but fierce campaign was to locate the enemy exactly. And in no case could this be accomplished till battle had been joined and the main attack delivered.

Next day, Sunday, the 10th, Lord Methuen made his plans. That evening the Boer trenches were to be bombarded for two hours just before sunset. During the night the Highland Brigade, under Major-General Wauchope, was to march out and at dawn deliver an assault upon the Magersfontein kopjes. In this terrible enterprise it was to be supported by the Guards' Brigade and the whole strength of the British artillery. The plan was kept absolutely secret and no one outside the staff could more than conjecture what was in hand.

On Sunday there was Church Parade, the troops assembling for divine service in full marching order upon the open veldt. It was a dramatic scene, which came vividly back to many memories when the bloody work of the following night and day had stretched so many of the worshippers lifeless upon the veldt. It seems unfortunate that Lord Methuen should have chosen Sunday for the beginning of the attack, seeing that, by a tacit understanding between the two opposed armies, this day was considered one of peace and rest. Putting Sabbatarian prejudices aside—and they must, as all men would allow, have at times to yield to real military necessities—it may be doubted if there was any necessity on this occasion which enjoined the immediate delivery of the attack. To have postponed it by twenty-four hours would have done no man any harm and would have spared the nation the sorrow of learning that many Boers had been killed by lyddite shells while engaged in prayer and worship. Just as after the battle of Bull Run, in the American Civil War, a popular explanation of the Northern defeat was that the Northern generals had desecrated the Sabbath by attacking on that day and had provoked the anger of God, so in England there were some who attributed the British repulse at Magersfontein to this profanation of a holy day.

On Sunday afternoon the last preparations were made. Messages had been flashed to Kimberley to convey the welcome news that the arrival of the column might be expected at any moment; trains were ready to bring away refugees from the diamond city; everyone was alert and confident. At 2 p.m., without kit, but with half-a-days' rations, the force moved out to battle. First went the Lancers, then the Highlanders with the five batteries of guns and howitzers, and last of all the Guards' Brigade, who followed at sunset. The Ninth Brigade, composed of the Yorkshiremen, Northumberlands, Northamptons, and Lancashires, had the task of guarding the camp. The column struck out to the north-east, deployed its guns, and opened a tremendous fire with lyddite shells and shrapnel upon the Magersfontein kopjes. "The lyddite explosions," writes Mr. Whigham, the Morning Post correspondent, "began along the top of the Magersfontein ridge, each shell throwing up a cloud of wreckage like a gigantic mushroom suddenly springing from the hill top, while the shrapnel of the field and horse batteries searched every nook and cranny of the rocks." Some of the earlier shells fell amidst a number of Boers assembled for prayer and are said to have killed forty, but after this there was little loss, for the reason that there was no enemy on the kopjes. The Boers were lining the trenches at the foot of the hills, where they were in perfect safety, as the artillery made no effort to search these works, which were, indeed, quite invisible. In consequence, they were able to watch this terrific bombardment with the same interest and amusement as if it had been a firework display. Not a shot did they fire in reply, and their calculated silence speedily produced an impression in the British Army that they either had abandoned or would at nightfall abandon their lines.

At 6·45 p.m. darkness came on and the bombardment ceased. The evening was gloomy and the sky heavily overcast, yet a fitful moon showed through the clouds. The troops bivouacked where they had stood during the bombardment, the Highlanders directly to the south of Magersfontein, the Guards on the right, and the batteries in place, ready to open fire at the ranges which they now well knew. A hasty meal was made of biscuit and bully beef. Silence was maintained and no one might raise his voice above a whisper; no fires were allowed; even pipes could not be lighted. In rear of the infantry Lord Methuen gave General Wauchope his last orders; then the Major-General instructed his battalion commanders as to what was to be done. It was noted by many after that sad night that for days before the Major-General had seemed to forebode his swiftly coming end. His very look bore the "reflection of death." In every campaign in which he had fought he had been wounded; now, it was said, he knew that he was fated to die. Yet, like a brave and proud soldier, he never spoke of these things. He was reported to have strongly protested to Lord Methuen against the night attack, and more especially against the order to march in quarter column, though on rough ground at night this was a not unreasonable disposition. Be this as it may, there were no witnesses at the interview, and the story can only be founded upon vague conjecture. It was also said that he had remarked to an intimate friend upon the nature of his instructions, which seemed to him at once too vague in their indication of the enemy's position and too precise in prescribing the formation to be adopted. There is certainly a concurrence of evidence that the General was rendered uneasy by his orders and anticipated the worst results.

The night march was to begin at 12·30, the Brigade in quarter column, which means that the eight companies of each battalion were to be in eight lines, one behind the other and six paces apart. The four battalions also were behind each other, so that the front of the mass of men was but one company, or about 100 men, shoulder to shoulder, and the depth thirty-two ranks. Thus, half-a-dozen men might be stricken down by a single bullet and a hundred killed by one shrapnel skilfully timed. The reason for the closeness of the formation was the difficulty of keeping the men together in the darkness. Ropes were to be used to enable the troops to maintain their order. On nearing the enemy's position at 3·25 a.m., or just before daybreak, the Black Watch was to deploy on the right to the east of Magersfontein, the Seaforths next to them, and then the Argyll and Sutherlands, with the Highland Light Infantry in reserve. The three leading battalions were to extend, placing each of them two companies in the firing line, two in support, and four in reserve.

The men—even the company officers—knew nothing of what was intended beyond the fact that they were to march out, and, as they supposed, attack the kopjes. They were given no food before they started and had nothing with them but their emergency ration. Some of them, no doubt, were nervous and highly wrought, with the natural anxiety of men going into battle for the first time against a redoubtable enemy, and thus it was that two rifles were accidentally discharged just before the brigade began its eventful march. About 1 a.m. the head of the column began to move off like a phantom host into the impenetrable darkness. The young moon had set and the obscurity was intense. About half-an-hour after the march began, the night turned from sweltering heat to intense cold and simultaneously a torrential rain descended as a violent thunderstorm broke over the troops. The flashes of lightning were vivid and incessant; they affected the compasses which Major Benson, guiding the column, carried, one in each hand, and the resulting uncertainty delayed the advance. Moreover, the apparently level veldt was found upon closer acquaintance to be full of pitfalls in the darkness. At every moment men stumbled over ant-hills, or boulders, or caught in the six-feet-high Vaal bushes which covered the ground.

Soaked through, chilled to the bone, sleepless, breakfastless, and weary, the Highlanders continued their advance, and each minute the night seemed to the men's anxious eyes to grow blacker. The ground had not been carefully reconnoitred beforehand, although it is a recognised rule that night attacks must only be made over country which has been thoroughly examined by the staff; so that it was difficult to avoid some confusion. On the extreme right could now be seen the flashing of a light; its meaning no one understood, but this much was certain, that it was not shown by a Britisher. It caused a feeling of apprehension, as it revealed that someone amongst the enemy was aware of the march and was following it. On the British left, far ahead in the enemy's position, showed an answering light. It burnt brightly and steadily, and the men watched it with fascinated curiosity. They did not know that at 2 o'clock that morning the enemy had manned the trenches, and was now only waiting their approach to begin the slaughter.

The brigade, still in its close formation, was nearing the foot of the hills, which could dimly be made out looming through the darkness. The Black Watch, in the front of the column, were, unfortunately, in great confusion, having encountered first a high, wire fence, difficult to negotiate, and then a particularly dense and tangled patch of brushwood, in passing through which they were unable to avoid making much noise and losing their formation. This may have delayed the deployment, but if the statement of one of General Wauchope's staff can be believed, neither the staff itself nor the officers of the brigade had any distinct knowledge of the enemy's position, or knew that there were trenches in front of the Highlanders. Be this as it may, already Major Benson had suggested to General Wauchope that, as the hour was nearly 4 o'clock, and the day was already beginning to break, it was time to open out. The General had, it would seem, misunderstood his orders and supposed that he was to maintain close formation up to a point near to the enemy's lines. It is alleged, with doubtful truthfulness, that again and again he exclaimed, "This is madness!" At last, however, he determined to extend his brigade. The madness, if madness of others it was, had gone far enough. As the Seaforths worked round the thicket to the right and regained touch of the Black Watch, the order to extend was given to the four battalions. But just as the order was issued and before it had been executed, the bright light ahead on the left went out, and at that instant a single rifle was fired.

This was the signal for a deadly volley from the Boers. To the amazement of the Highlanders the ground just in front of them seemed to burst into a sheet of flame, not 100 yards away. As a matter of fact the distance was 400 yards or a little more, but in the semi-darkness of the dawn, now at last breaking over the hills, and in the bewilderment of the complete surprise, the enemy seemed much nearer. The fire was such as troops in close order had never before in history experienced. From the magazine rifles of the Boers poured a continuous stream of lead upon the struggling, confused mass of British soldiers, "packed like sardines." The disorder was terrible; in the darkness the men could not discern their officers or sergeants and knew not whom to obey or how and where to rally. All manner of cries and orders were heard: "Lie down!" "Extend!" "Fix bayonets!" "Charge!" "Retire!" "No, Forward!" Two companies did charge, but, stung by the hail of bullets from in front and fired into also by the excited men behind, had to fall back. The fatal order "Retire," pronounced by some unauthorised person, was repeated and caught up. It accorded with the dictates of instinct and of panic fear, and a great part of the Black Watch bolted back in the wildest disorder, breaking the ranks of the Seaforths and throwing them also into dire confusion.

The accounts of the soldiers who fought give a vivid picture of that terrible scene. "The whole of the hillside was lit up with the most damnable discharge of rifles that anyone can possibly imagine," says a colour-sergeant of the Black Watch. "They seemed to be formed up in tiers all up the hillside, and were pouring magazine fire into us at a terrific rate. Then came all sorts of shouts—'Lie down!' 'Charge!' 'Extend!' and of the whole brigade there was only the front rank of 'A' Company of ours that could have used their rifles, as everybody else was straight in rear of them. Well, two companies in front did charge, but were stopped by barbed wire fences and entanglements fifteen yards from the trenches and mostly shot down. Others broke to right and left or retired, and after waiting about a minute for a bullet to hit me, as it appeared impossible to escape one, and as it did not arrive, I thought perhaps it was advisable to go with the remainder. With proper handling we could have cleared the Boers out in two hours; as it was, we were taken into a butcher's shop and left there."

A Seaforth Highlander says:—"When we started to extend they opened fire on us, and such a hailstorm of bullets I don't want to experience again. It was seen that someone had blundered. We were fairly at their mercy; we were in the wrong position and had to retire. And what a rabble—bullets in thousands coming after us; men falling right and left. We rallied up in line and made one effort, and stuck to it, advancing and firing all the time."

"It was not fighting, it was simply suicide. Men were hung on the wire like crows and were riddled with bullets," says another soldier. "Our hearts were broken after the reception we got at the start."

One of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders writes:—"We were just thinking that the Boers had retired, and were about 100 yards from their trenches when we were greeted with a storm of bullets from thousands of men, and the whole brigade fled for their lives. The men's hearts were broken at the start, and they were like children all the day. Men were advancing and retiring by themselves trying to fight, but there were no officers to do the leading so we could expect to do nothing."

"We got the word to retire," wrote a private of the Black Watch, "and while we were doing so the bullets were flying like hailstones all round us. It was a miracle how I escaped. I got my rifle blown out of my hand, and a bullet through my helmet, and another grazed my leg, taking away a bit of my spat. I never witnessed such a horrible sight in my life. General Wauchope was shot at the beginning when we charged. When he saw the mistake that happened, he said, 'Rally round, Black Watch; it is not my fault,' and fell riddled with bullets. We formed up again, and advanced to about 200 yards from the hill, and lay down and kept up firing."

But no letter shows better the powerlessness of the men than this from a Highland Light Infantry man:—"What could we do? It was dark; the men did not know where they were. Somebody shouted 'Retire!' and we did—well, not a retire, but a stampede; 4,000 men like a flock of sheep running for dear life. Had we opened out in attacking or skirmishing order, we could have rushed the trenches, but in the formation we were in we were helpless. After they rallied they had not the heart to fight after being led into a trap at the start; but we stood it wonderfully well, although only a half-hearted affair."

Amongst the very earliest victims of the murderous fusillade is said to have been the noble and devoted General Wauchope. His body was found well in advance, riddled with bullets. That he ever uttered the words attributed to him, "Don't blame me, my lads, it was not my fault," is not to be believed. The story circulated in camp after the battle, but like so many camp legends seems to have no solid foundation. It was alien to the fallen General's character; alien to his high sense of discipline and to his pride as a British soldier. As he had silently obeyed and executed an order which he may well have feared would prove to be disastrous, so he went silently and uncomplainingly to his death, leaving posterity to do his memory justice. As to the time and manner of his death there is some dispute. Many declared that he fell at the first murderous volley; but one private asserts that he lay down with those of the Black Watch who did not bolt, and after some little time determined to go back to the remnant of his brigade, further towards the rear. He was begged not to do so, but rose with four others and was almost instantly killed.

Those who have read of "heroism," of "fearlessness of death," and all the popular phrases which describe the bearing of the soldier on the field of battle, may deem the true story, which we have given above, ignominious and dishonourable to the Highland Brigade. Yet when the truth is told, such incidents happen on every battlefield, and the best and bravest men are subject to sudden collapse under the conditions that this brigade had to encounter. At dawn it is a physical fact that the intellectual force known as morale is at its feeblest. The men were hungry, drenched, cold, confused, surprised, exposed to a more than decimating fire. Death had come suddenly amongst them at an unexpected moment, with all the awful and heart-rending sights of the battlefield. On every side were dead, and dying, and wounded men—a chaos, a babel of cries dominated by the furious rattle of the Boer musketry. The inevitable happened, and the men, without leaders or guidance, went back instead of forward. There are limits to devotion and self-sacrifice.

Nor did the Black Watch fall back far. The men, in spite of the terrible shaking they had received, were speedily rallied; they lay down a thousand yards or more from the enemy's position, and opened a spasmodic fire upon the Boers. The Seaforths rallied, too, and advanced by rushes, drawing close to certain outlying Boer rifle pits. They lost heavily. Officers and men, to quote the letter of an officer who led the rushes, "were bowled over like rabbits." Some of the Black Watch, who had not retired but had advanced in spite of the Boer fire, actually reached and entered the enemy's trenches, but, unsupported, were made prisoners. In all, of that famous and gallant regiment, about one fourth fell at the first deadly volley from the Boers. In the two leading companies, 200 strong, three-fourths were shot down. A chaplain in the ranks, who was knocked down in the rush to the rear, declared that the panic was awful, but that there lived no men who would have done otherwise than they did.

The two other Highland battalions, though greatly confused and involved in the sudden panic, did not suffer as severely, being further to the rear. They were likewise rallied. Things were in this posture: the attack had hopelessly failed, and the ground before the shattered Highland Brigade was strewn with killed and wounded, many of the latter destined to receive wound after wound under the cruel fire when it grew light enough to see more plainly. At once, with a crash and a roar, came a lyddite shell, aimed from the 4·7 at the enemy's position, bringing the Highlanders welcome news that they were no longer to fight unsupported. Then followed the din of the thirty British howitzers and field guns, bombarding the Boer trenches might and main to take the pressure off the Scotsmen. Their much-needed aid was not without effect. It was no longer possible for the Boers to fire with complete impunity, and though the Highlanders could not retreat or move without drawing a storm of bullets, they no longer lost heavily. Like the British troops at the Modder River, they lay flat on the ground behind what cover they could find. Yet their trials were by no means at an end. To have to remain prostrate, motionless, without food or water for sixteen weary hours till twilight fell, under a tropical sun, in sight of their own wounded, to whom little or no help or comfort could be given, was a dismaying prospect for men who had already endured so much.

The battle was as good as lost, for one third of Lord Methuen's little army had been stricken down or so demoralised in the brief minutes of the night attack, that little could henceforth be expected of it. To assault the unbroken enemy in the full light of day was a course which could hold forth no promise of success, and which must have involved enormous losses. To withdraw the Highland Brigade was equally impossible. The only plan that could be followed was to bombard the enemy's position assiduously, holding the ground already won, in the hope that the Boers might here, as at Modder River, be cowed by British stubbornness and decide upon an eventual retreat. Lord Methuen reinforced the shaken Highlanders by two battalions of Coldstreams on the right; the two other Guards' battalions were held ready to give support, the Grenadiers on the right and the Scots Guards on the left. The 9th Lancers, the 12th Lancers, the mounted infantry, and G Battery of Horse Artillery pushed in on the extreme right and attempted a turning movement. They were at once very hotly engaged.

The three field batteries—18th, 62nd, and 75th—which had so distinguished themselves at Modder River, here also proved the salvation of the British column. But for their devoted efforts and the superb conduct of G Horse Battery, the repulse might well have been converted into a complete disaster. The field guns opened at a range of about 2,000 yards, and, as the morning advanced, gallantly pushed forward to a point only 1,200 yards from the Boer trenches, where they were without cover and exposed to the enemy's rifle fire. G Battery had simultaneously closed in to 1,500 yards, and the big howitzers to something under 3,000. At first the Boer artillery seemed inclined to engage in a duel with the British guns, but after forty or fifty rounds it ceased its fire. Our weapons were left free to sweep the sides of the kopjes and the closely-lined but invisible trenches with shrapnel. It is not probable that they inflicted heavy losses; the enemy was much too well covered for that. But they absolutely prevented any counter attack during the critical hours of the morning; they shook the accuracy of the Boer fire; they gave Lord Methuen time to make fresh dispositions; and they cheered and encouraged the Highlanders in the fighting line by the sense of moral support which their furious racket caused. The calm intrepidity of the gunners especially attracted the wonder and admiration of all on the battlefield, and, strange to say, despite their exposed position and proximity to the enemy, they suffered only the most insignificant losses. The horse artillery at first came in for a heavy shelling, but not a driver moved or dismounted. The sergeant-major walked coolly to and fro inspecting the formation and harness, as if he were on parade.

Over the battlefield hovered the great war balloon which had but recently arrived, and from the car the movements of the enemy to the rear and on either side of the Magersfontein position could be at times discerned. A steady stream of reinforcements was made out coming from Spytfontein and the extreme right of the Boer lines, and there were signs that the enemy was, in his turn, preparing a flanking attack against the British right. Only the steadiness of the Guards and the accuracy of their fire foiled this purpose. To increase the pressure upon the enemy's centre, Lord Methuen about noon sent forward the Gordons to the help of the Highlanders. The Gordons had but recently arrived and had been held back, in consequence, to guard the supply train. They extended and pushed into the fight in separate half battalions, under a vigorous fire.