Soon the little clouds of dust on the horizon drew hundreds of townsfolk to the earthworks, and as the glint of spear-head and scabbard flashed out of the cloud, and the besieged garrison knew their troubles were over, men waved their hats and shouted, and tearful, laughing ladies flocked round the first men who rode in, and nearly pulled them out of the saddle. Then they set to and hauled the rest out of the mines, finishing that job well by midnight.
For 124 days Kimberley had been besieged. The Boers had never once attacked the town, though not more than 550 mounted men were latterly available for offensive work; these, with the Town Guard, Lancashires, and Kimberley Rifles, made a total of 3,764. Colonel Kekewich might well look radiantly happy; he had administered everything with strict justice, and had earned the respect and admiration of all, while Cecil Rhodes and the De Beers officials had magnificently met and countered every difficulty with generous skill and unflagging energy.
[CHAPTER XXV]
THE SIEGE OF LADYSMITH (1899-1900)
Ladysmith—Humours of the shell—The Lyre tries to be funny—Attack on Long Tom—A brave bugler—Practical jokes—The black postman—A big trek—Last shots—Some one comes—Saved at last.
Ladysmith, where Sir George White and his men detained the Boers so long, is a scattered town lying on a lake-like plain, and surrounded by an amphitheatre of rocky hills. To the north-west was Pepworth Hill, where the Boer Long Tom was placed; north-east of the town, and four miles away, was Unbulwana: here the Boers had dragged a large siege-gun.
South of the town the Klip River runs close under the hills, and here many caves were dug as hiding-places for the residents. There were many women and children there all day long. On the 3rd of November the wires were cut; Ladysmith was isolated and besieged. On the next day it was discussed whether General Joubert’s proposal should be accepted—that the civilians, women, and children should go out and form a camp five miles off under the white flag. Archdeacon Barker got up, and said: “Our women and children shall stay with the men under the Union Jack, and those who would do them harm may come to them at their peril.”
The meeting cheered the tall, white-haired priest, and agreed thereto.