While these things were happening on the west, Cæsar's Camp had been also the scene of a contest—serious, and for a moment apparently doubtful. At no time, however, was the peril here as great as on Wagon Hill. There the fight was lost, and there won. Meantime the Boer siege guns had opened upon the field of action with great effect, maintaining a vigorous fire throughout; and the British on their side had advanced field batteries in the plain, to sweep either flank of the threatened ridge, a measure which markedly curtailed the power of the enemy to send reinforcements to those already engaged on the heights. The Boers had also developed attacks upon the north and north-east of the town; but these, however intended, did not proceed beyond mere demonstrations.
At 2 P.M., on Wagon Hill West, a few Boers at last attempted what numbers should have tried hours before. It is trite to say that at such a crisis proverbial truths receive double emphasis. "Not to gain ground is to lose ground." "He who hesitates is lost." At the hour named, a number—eight, it is said—at their head De Villiers, a Free State commander, rose suddenly to their feet. The action, unexpected after so many passive hours, shook the steadiness of the British opposite. Some turned and ran down hill, but the Engineer detachment stood fast with fixed bayonets. An infantry major beside them fell, shot dead, but their own lieutenant, Digby Jones, a youth in his twenties, led them forward to the encounter. The parties met midway, but only one follower had kept on with Villiers. The Boer leader was killed by Jones, who himself dropped immediately after. His junior, Denniss, went out to look for him, and quickly shared his fate. So, after hours of steadfast bearing, died these gallant lads—not in vain. With them fell also fifteen out of their thirty sappers, wounded, but not all slain.
At 4 P.M. a rain-storm of exceptional violence, even for South Africa, burst over the ridge. In the midst of it the Boers on Wagon Hill West, whose numbers had increased beyond the British knowledge, again attempted a forward movement; again, so the accounts say, waverers were found on the British side; again their officers called them together; charge threatened was met with charge effected, and for the last time. Before the levelled bayonets the enemy turned and fled down hill to return no more.
The same opportunity of tempest was taken by the assailants on Wagon Hill to mass their forces. Then it was that the British commander on the spot asked Colonel Park whether, with the three companies of the Devonshire Regiment in reserve, he could clear the hill. "We will try," was the reply. The companies deployed in three lines, in extended order—six to eight paces between the men—and fixed bayonets. The enemy knew not what was coming, but their watch was untiring. When ready, "The Colonel rose to his feet, and the three companies rose with him as one man. With a cheer that foretold success, the Devons dashed into the open. The fire with which they were received was simply awful; it might have staggered any troops. Leaving the cover of the stones, the Boers stood upright and emptied their magazines into the advancing line. But it never wavered, never checked, though the ranks were sadly thinned. The Boers fled from the boulders which they had held with such tenacity throughout the day, and turned at bay upon the edge of the crest, hoping yet to stay the deadly rush of steel. They were augmented from below, but the stand was of no avail. Though charging, the Devons steadily changed front and bore down upon the hillside. The enemy broke and fled headlong down. The day was won. Such was their dread of the bayonet, they did not even attempt to rally in the spruits below, but, leaving prisoners and ammunition behind, without turning, made their way to their horses."[31] A bayonet charge rarely is awaited.
Ladysmith was saved, but at heavy cost. The British loss in killed was—officers, 14; private men, 164; wounded officers, 33; privates, 287; of the latter, 4 officers and 25 men died of their wounds. The Boers' loss is not accurately known. A correspondent in Ladysmith has stated that Sir George White, having undertaken to deliver the bodies of those who fell within the British lines, 133 were so handed over from the top of the hill. This number was believed to be small compared to those slain on the retreat, on the slopes, and in the brush below. The streams being in flood from the rain, it was thought that many more were drowned. In estimating hostile losses, however, there is usually a tendency to exaggerate.
The Boers never again attempted assault.
CHAPTER VII
NATAL CAMPAIGN. THE UNSUCCESSFUL BRITISH ATTEMPTS TO TURN THE BOERS' RIGHT FLANK AT SPION KOP AND AT VAAL KRANTZ
On the 9th of January, 1900, the Fifth Division of the British Army, which, under Lieut.-General Sir Charles Warren, had been assembling at Estcourt, marched out for Frere, where General Buller's headquarters had been established after the battle of Colenso. Arriving the same evening, it started the next day for Springfield, the movement being followed by the whole army, except the 6th Brigade, left at Chieveley, and such other troops as were needed to protect the railroad to Durban against raids. To control the action of the mass of the Boers, dependence could be placed upon the operation in progress for turning their right flank, to resist which and to maintain the siege of Ladysmith would require all the force at their disposal.
The abortive issue of this British undertaking, and of its sequent operation against Vaal Krantz in the same quarter, removes the necessity of giving minute details in a narrative which does not profess to be a critical military study, but merely seeks to present a clear analytical account of the various transactions.