GUARDING THE COMMUNICATIONS—LORDS METHUEN AND KITCHENER
While the battle for the Delagoa railway line was being planned, Lord Kitchener, with a small force, pushed south and joined Lord Methuen (whose force was at Heilbron) at Vredefort station on the evening of the 10th of June. Together they decided to hunt the marauders.
In passing, it is interesting to note that at this time the following militia corps were doing unostentatious but valuable and perilous service on the lines of communication:—
3rd Royal Scots; 3rd Royal West Surrey; 3rd East Kent; 3rd Royal Lancaster; 4th Royal Lancaster; 6th Royal Warwickshire; 3rd Norfolk; 4th Somerset Light Infantry; 4th West Yorkshire; 4th Bedfordshire; 3rd Yorkshire; 6th Lancashire Fusiliers; 4th Cheshire; 3rd South Wales Borderers; 3rd King’s Own Scottish Borderers; 4th Scottish Rifles; 3rd East Lancashire; 4th East Surrey; 4th South Staffordshire; 3rd South Lancashire; 3rd Welsh; 4th Derbyshire; 6th Middlesex; 9th King’s Royal Rifles (North Cork Militia); 4th North Staffordshire; 3rd Durham Light Infantry; 4th Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders; 3rd Leinster; 5th Royal Munster Fusiliers; 5th Royal Dublin Fusiliers.
On the 11th Lord Methuen proceeded to scour the railway line, and found the enemy prowling within rifle range on either side of his route. Whereupon, at Rhenoster River, he overtook and engaged De Wet, over whom a temporary victory was gained. The British commander succeeded in capturing camp and etceteras, and scattering the Dutchmen in all directions, though De Wet himself, with his usual nimbleness, disappeared. During the day’s engagement Lieutenant Erle, 12th Battalion Imperial Yeomanry, was slightly wounded.
On Tuesday the 12th the force hurriedly advanced towards Kroonstad, owing to a report that that town, garrisoned by a single battalion of the Argyll and Sutherland Militia, had fallen a prey to the enemy. Fortunately it was discovered that the rumour was groundless, and Lord Methuen continued his southern march. On the 13th and 14th the Boers pursued their system of annoyance around the railway, and directed a storm of bullets on a construction train which had arrived under the personal direction of Colonel Girouard, R.E., for the purpose of repairing the depredations of the past few days. Luckily, thanks to the pluck of the construction party (they were short of rifles, owing to many having been left in the rear train), a very able defence was kept up all night, until a party of mounted infantry—who at the first sound of firing started to the rescue—arrived with their guns and routed the foe. They came none too soon, for the Boers had made a fairly big haul, and carried off some forty of the construction workers as prisoners. The mounted infantry scurried after the retiring Dutchmen, but, as usual, these had knowingly melted into twos and threes and were uncatchable. In the attack on the train one man was killed and eleven wounded, including Lieutenant Micklem, Royal Engineers, Second Lieutenant Bigge, Volunteer Royal Engineers.
Meanwhile, at Virginia the garrison had an exceedingly trying time; but owing to the energy of Colonels Capper and North and the troops under them, and the conspicuous coolness and valour of Lieutenant Mitchell, the Boers were repulsed. At daybreak on the 14th some 800 Boers, with one or two pom-poms, a Maxim, and a field gun, ensconced themselves in the dense scrub surrounding the Zand River post. The garrison consisted of four companies 3rd Battalion Royal Lancasters under Colonel North (about 250 fit for duty), four companies Railway Pioneer Regiment under Major Seymour (300 fit for duty), and some 25 men of the Royal Irish Regiment (16 fit for duty) under Lieutenant Davenport. The position was a somewhat extended one, the left being in advance trenches on broken and jungly ground. This point the Boers attacked with determination, and were as determinedly resisted by Lieutenant W. Mitchell and No. 3 Company Railway Pioneer Regiment. The enemy in the dense bush were practically surrounding the British party, but these fought doggedly, engaging their assailants at very close quarters and keeping them at bay till nearly noon, when the Dutchmen were ultimately driven out of their hiding-places by an advance through the scrub of a line of reserve Railway Pioneer Regiment, aided by half a company of Militia. Thus driven forth, they made haste to retire before the arrival of a body of 170 Yeomanry (under Lieutenant Crane), which had hastened to the rescue from the south. The losses were comparatively small, owing to the marvellous grit of young Mitchell, who, though wounded at the onset in both thighs, continued for six hours to encourage and direct his men (there were only 22 of them scattered in several small trenches), ordering them not to waste ammunition, cheering them, and concealing from them, till the worst was over, the fact that he himself was seriously wounded. Another gallant officer, Major Seymour, distinguished himself, but he paid for his valour with his life. He was killed while advancing with the extended line through the bush to clear out the snipers. Lieutenant Clement of No. 2 Company of the Railway Pioneer Regiment was mortally wounded.
On the 18th Lord Kitchener, having restored communications, returned to Pretoria, and Lord Methuen moved to Heilbron. Precautions to avert further interruptions on the railway had been taken by establishing posts within communicable distance of each other all along the line, connected by a continually perambulating military train carrying field and automatic guns.
A combined movement had again to be planned for the surrounding of De Wet, who, though defeated on the 13th by Lord Methuen, and subsequently by Lord Kitchener, was still displaying an elasticity of disposition greatly to his credit, if discomforting to his pursuers. He and his followers now rebounded in the direction of Heilbron, where on the 18th he endeavoured to arrest the entry of Lord Methuen and a large convoy which he was escorting. A smart engagement ensued, which, it was thought, would have the effect of clearing the air. But peace was short-lived, as we shall see.
The war at this time, though full of inspiriting events, was as hard, perhaps harder, for the soldier than ever. There were the same chances of being wiped out by shot, shell, or disease, but the honour and glory of laying down one’s life for one’s country was bereft of its glamour. Tommy Atkins now needed all his patience, all his pluck. There are men who can face hostile artillery, but will squirm before a dentist. In these days there were many seasoned fighters, who might be excused if they shrunk from the railway accident or promiscuous sniping from invisible farms, which was part and parcel of the guerilla form of warfare adopted by the remnant of the Boer army—the malcontents, who, subversive of discipline and hating the British race, had decided to fight to the bitter end. Comments regarding the attitude of some of our troops have been made by many who lack the large mind to look at the enormous army as a whole, and who find pleasure in examining only its flaws with the microscope and holding them up to public contempt. Such comments it is unnecessary to reproduce. The brilliant British army, like all great and brilliant things, must necessarily have the defects of its qualities, and it is with the immense qualities and not the infinitesimal defects of victors that the faithful recorder has to do. To return, then, to the nerve-trying ordeals that formed part of the almost daily programme of the soldier’s duty.
At Honing Spruit, situated on the rail twenty-one miles north of Kroonstad, an exciting affair took place on the 22nd of June, all the more exciting as those engaged had but a few days previously been rescued from durance vile in Pretoria prison. On the 14th a party of 16 released officers from various regiments, with some 400 men, was ordered to Elandsfontein, the station outside Johannesburg, which had been so admirably secured by Colonel Henry’s force.
On the 21st this party was moved on to Katbosh Camp, a mile or so beyond Honing Spruit, where were stationed two companies of the Shropshires and some mounted Canadians under the command of Colonel Evans. The officers of the composite force were: Colonel Bullock, of the Devonshires, commanding; Major Stock, of the Wiltshire Regiment; Major Carleton, Royal Lancasters; Captains Elmslie and Freeth, of the Lancashire Fusiliers; Lieutenants Bryant, Temple, Radice, Smith, Mackenzie, and Gray, of the Gloucestershire Regiment; Jones, of the Connaught Rangers; Best, of the Inniskilling Fusiliers; Prior, Engineer Militia; Colson, of the 5th Fusiliers; and Wood-Martin, of the Suffolk Regiment. These, all of them, had had sufficiently horrible experiences, both during the hardly fought engagements in which they had been taken prisoners, and in the period of incarceration at the Model School, and vowed never again to be caught alive in the trap of the Dutchmen. They then hardly realised how near that trap they were.
Lines Torn up by De Wet near Kroonstad.
(Photo by D. Barnett.)
The night was unusually cold, and travelling in coal trucks was scarcely an inspiriting beginning. In the gloom of early dawn the train reached Honing Spruit Station. Some of the officers alighted and exercised themselves to restore circulation—they were numb and weary—and in doing so espied, in the east, the dark outlines of mounted figures approaching. They promptly gave the alarm. Colonel Bullock proceeded in all haste to get the men out of the trucks, and speedily they were formed up round the station. An effort was then made with such picks and shovels as were at hand to dig trenches. But these were a mere apology for shelter. They made, however, according to an officer who scraped his little burrow for himself, a “moral” support. Of other support, it must be owned, they had little. A few officers were provided with Mausers, carbines, and bandoliers of ammunition, but the force for the most part were saddled with Martini-Henry rifles and black powder ammunition—rifles discarded by the Boers, and left by them in the arsenal at Pretoria. These venerable weapons were sighted at 1200 yards—the ordinary range of Lee-Mitford or Mauser may be taken at 1500 to 2000 yards—and were served out of necessity, owing to the insufficiency of ammunition for Mauser rifles. Thus handicapped at the outset in the way of weapons of defence, ragged and tattered, some in boots that were dropping to pieces, some partly in uniform, partly in mufti, garbed exactly as they had been in the prison, they found themselves once again in presence of the enemy. Colonel Bullock, stouthearted and truculent as ever, at once wired for help to Kroonstad, and with the line cut on both sides of him, and the Boers blowing up culverts as they came along, prepared to make a stand against the advancing foe. Meanwhile bang! bang! went a series of explosions on every side, voicing a vindictive tale and promising unthinkable horrors to come.
According to their slim tactics, and to find out the strength of the party most probably, the Boers now sent forward a man with a white flag, declaring by the messenger, that they had many men and guns, and that if the force refused to surrender they would be annihilated. But the Boers had got hold of the wrong man. The officer who had doggedly held firm in the blood-dyed donga at Colenso till the Dutchmen had threatened to murder the wounded unless he gave in, was not the man to surrender without a tussle. Colonel Bullock quickly sent the messenger and his white flag to the right about, and made preparations for stout resistance till help should arrive. But it was a sorry piece of “bluff.” They were gunless, the old muskets were of little use, and the black powder was objectionable, as it would have betrayed their positions and the smallness of the force. It was therefore necessary to tackle the Boers with extreme caution. “At first,” said an officer who was engaged, “they were only near the line to the north of us, covering the men who were destroying the culverts and telegraph lines, but they gradually worked round to the east, and about 8 or 8.30 down came the first shell—shrapnel—from about 2000 yards away. The train all this time was in the station, and I think they wanted to damage the engine, but their shooting wasn’t good enough. The engine went a little way up the line, but found it cut, and had to return. Shells were pretty frequent now, and bullets too numerous to be exactly pleasant, but Colonel Bullock and Major Hobbs, who was second in command, were walking about seeing to everything in the coolest possible way. No. 1 Company, under Captain Elmslie, of the Lancashire Fusiliers, had made some small trenches facing north, but when the Boers worked round to the east we were, of course, enfiladed, so we got into a ditch running along the side of the line north and south. They peppered us pretty well while we were getting there, but only one man was hit in the arm. Previous to this poor Major Hobbs, who, with the Colonel, had been sitting behind one of our small shelters which did not anything like cover them, was shot through the heart and killed.” (Major Hobbs, it may be remembered, was the gallant officer who was taken prisoner while tending a wounded man in the brilliant engagement at Willow Grange.) “Young Smith, of the Gloucesters, had been sent down the ditch near the line with seven men to try and get a bit nearer to the Boers who were damaging the culverts. They had rather a warm time, and Colonel Bullock sent Freeth, the adjutant, to bring them back. Poor Smith was shot through the groin, and the bullet went right through him. Two of his men were wounded and one killed out of the seven. Smith got back with Freeth’s help all right, and I found him afterwards sitting up in bed smoking cigarettes and as unconcerned as possible.”
A small tin house at the station was used as a hospital, and a Red Cross flag was improvised with difficulty. It was composed of a pillow-case with red bands made from strips of a Kaffir blanket discovered in the house. This was mounted on the shaft of an uptilted cart, but the Boers affected not to comprehend its meaning, and sent in a man under a white flag to ask an explanation. Here the wounded were tended by Mr. Cheatle who, by a stroke of luck, happened to occupy a saloon carriage in the “held up” train. There was no other doctor. This well-known surgeon who had gone out, con amore, as it were, with Sir William MacCormac, was on his way home, thinking his errand of mercy was over. He came quickly in action again, bringing his brilliant wits to meet a somewhat desperate situation. His bandages were made from ladies’ under garments found in a wardrobe, from the bed sheets in the train, and for antiseptic powder he had recourse to the carbolic tooth-powder in the possession of some of the officers. When this came to an end he utilised boiled rags, and persistently attended to the nerve-shaken wounded, who all the time were torn with bodily agony and horror-stricken by the continual howling of shells against walls and ground.
AUSTRALIAN BUSHMEN ON THE MARCH
Drawing by Allan Stewart, from details supplied by Surgeon Captain Watt, New Zealand Roughriders
Meanwhile the Boers plied their guns, shelling at the same time from north and east—an antiphonal duet of most appalling description. One shell broke through the saloon carriage, another buried itself in some bales of wool which luckily protected the verandah of the hospital. To this the only return that could be made was a persistent peppering with the ancient Martinis, a peppering which was carried on for several hours. The officers worked hard with their Mauser carbines. The one before quoted said he fired off fifty-five rounds, but did not know with what result, except that some Boers, exposing themselves on the sky line, very quickly got down flat on the grass after he had taken a “steady pot” at them at about 1400 yards’ distance. He went on to say: “The Boers must have known how we were armed, as it is quite against their custom to expose themselves at all. At last we saw some men coming over the hill to our right, and thought it was the relief force, but they turned out to be Boers in khaki, some of whom, I believe, had helmets, probably taken from the convoy they collared a week or two ago, somewhere in this neighbourhood.”
The telegram for help was despatched to Kroonstad about 7 A.M., but the reinforcements did not arrive till nearly 3.30 P.M. The Boers early became aware of their near approach, however, and began cautiously to remove their four guns, two of which—15-pounders—were part of their capture at Sanna’s Post. Meanwhile the small force, who had been straining every nerve and muscle for many hours, and meant to die in the last ditch rather than surrender, were anxiously looking towards the south for succour. Then, at last, the friendly scouts were seen coming over the hill. Oh! the relief of it! The welcome rumour of help gave energy to the men, who, after their long inactivity, had been suddenly thrown, vilely armed, into vigorous action, and were by now well-nigh exhausted. Away flew the hostile hordes, but not without having done a fair day’s work of destruction—line, telegraph, and culverts being wrecked, one officer and three men killed, and one officer and seventeen men wounded!
While this gang of Boers were worrying the Honing Spruit party, another had attacked the Shropshires and Canadians at Katbosh Camp, and thus deterred them from going to the assistance of their brothers in distress. But it was owing to the splendid fighting of the Canadians that the Dutchmen had found it impossible to close in round Honing Spruit, and the party at the railway station were enabled to hold out till the relieving force arrived. After the Boers left, the troops still remained in the trenches, and strengthened them as much as possible; but the Argyll and Sutherland Militia and some Mounted Infantry and a battery arrived from Kroonstad, and the battery shelled some kopjes three miles away, where the Boers—some 700 to 1000 of them, with three or four guns—were collecting. It was said that the Boer loss was six killed, and that they took away three waggons full of wounded, but this, of course, could not be verified.
Some circumstances attending the brilliant resistance of the Colonials are almost heroic. Lieutenant Inglis, with eight men of the Frontier Police on worn-out ponies, were sent from the Katbosh Camp to reconnoitre. They were suddenly surrounded by Boers, but fought furiously, with the result that they made their way through, with the loss of four, to an embankment which offered shelter. Fifty Boers then came within short range and fired on them. A response from the British remnant followed. There were presently only four of them, commanded by Corporal Morden, who, Lieutenant Inglis being disabled, took his place. Here, in the face of these terrible odds, the Corporal sent off Private Miles to inform Colonel Evans of his plight. The messenger executed his errand, and returned to assist his comrades. He was hit, but still persisted in “having a go at the enemy.” Then Corporal Morden dropped with a bullet through the brain. Miles, wet with his own gore—fainting—supported himself against a tussock and continued to direct the firing of his brother and Private Kerr. Eventually the Boers made off, but not before Kerr had been killed by a parting shot. Finally the relief party arrived, and carried the few remaining heroes back to camp. Among the day’s casualties were: Major H. T. de C. Hobbs, West Yorkshire Regiment, killed; Second Lieutenant H. H. Smith, 1st Gloucester Regiment, severely wounded; Lieutenant W. M. Inglis, 2nd Canadian Mounted Infantry, severely wounded. The total casualties amounted to thirty-one.
The programme of surprise parties, trapping of small forces, and abuse of the white flag, continued with little variety. Owing to the disposition of the British troops to east of the railway, and the scarcity of supplies and transport that militated against their mobility, the Boers were temporarily in the ascendant. It was no easy matter to have and to hold the arteries of the great army whose head was Pretoria, and yet to guard the railway lines and send reinforcements at a moment’s notice to points menaced by the agile commandos of the enemy, and consequently those who were responsible for the safety of the communications lived the life of Damocles—without that personage’s certainty of whence the fatal blow might be expected!
The maintenance of the safety of the line from Kroonstad to Pretoria was in the hands of General Smith-Dorrien, who placed at every post two companies with two or more guns. He himself eternally perambulated the line, now repairing, now mounting guns, now despatching patrols, in fact, playing with almost superhuman energy and vigilance the game of fox and geese—the fox De Wet, the geese the long tail of communications. In spite, however, of the surprising energy of the General, the dog fox—the wiliest reynard that ever challenged chase—redoubled his activities.