On the same evening the Boers on Bulwaan signalled to the Gordons at Fly Kraal Post—"Where is Buller now? He has presented us with ten guns in place of three you took."
What seemed like the answer came on the following day, the 21st, when we have the following entry:—
Sir Redvers Buller's heavy batteries opened fire early this morning from some position south-west of Colenso. We feel, though we have no means of knowing for certain, that large reinforcements must have been sent that way recently from round about Ladysmith, leaving the lines of investment comparatively weak. Our enemy, however, makes a great show of being strong here by keeping up a more vicious bombardment when the situation threatens to become warm for him along the Tugela. His object, of course, is to discourage any diversion on our part, and it succeeds, because we have no motive for action yet. It is hard to have been cooped up for fifty days under fire, but we must make the best of it.
After trying in vain to reach the ordnance stores this morning Bulwaan got the range of headquarters. One shell burst a few yards short, the next crashed into Sir Henry Rawlinson's room, smashing all the furniture to atoms. Sir George White was lying in another room ill of a low fever, and there was naturally much anxiety on his account. For a long time he refused to be moved, but at length, under pressure of the whole staff, gave way, and consented to change his quarters to a camp less exposed. Immunity from shell fire is hardly possible within our lines now, for the Boers have mounted another howitzer on Surprise Hill to-day, and this, with the big Creusot still on Telegraph Hill, will probably search many places that have hitherto been comparatively safe, for our howitzers cannot keep down the fire of both.
December 22.—This was a day of heavy calamity for one regiment, and marked by more serious casualties than any other since the siege began. At six o'clock this morning a shell from Bulwaan struck the camp of the ill-fated Gloucesters on Junction Hill just as the men were at breakfast. It killed six and wounded nine, of whom three are very seriously hurt. A little later the big gun on Telegraph Hill threw a shell into the cavalry lines. It burst among the 5th Lancers, who were at morning inspection, and wounded Colonel Fawcett, Major King, a captain, the adjutant, a senior lieutenant, the regimental sergeant-major, a troop sergeant-major, and a sergeant. The last had an eye knocked out, but the others were only slightly wounded, and when their injuries had been looked to, they all formed in a group to be photographed.
December 23.—After early morning on Saturday came a strange lull in the bombardment, and people who count the shells as they fall, for lack of other employment, found their favourite occupation gone. Even the pigeons that are kept in training here for future military use seemed reluctant to fly in the still air, missing probably the excitement of sounds that urge them to revel in multitudinous cross-currents when shells are about; and long-tailed Namaqua doves flitted mute about the pine branches, as if unable to coo an amorous note without the usual accompaniment. Quiet did not reign all day, however. Towards evening the enemy's gun on Rifleman's Ridge, or Lancer's Nek, opened straight over the general's new quarters, to which Sir George White had only changed half an hour earlier. This may be merely a coincidence, but it is strange that no shells have fallen near his house at the foot of Port Road since he quitted it. Artillery could be heard southward at intervals pounding away with dull thuds like the beats of time on a big drum muffled. But we have almost ceased to speculate on the meaning of such sounds—while they come no nearer this way there is no message of relief to us in them, and we are getting reconciled to the idea of waiting, irksome though it may be and heavy with many unpleasant possibilities.
Ladysmith had now been for fifty days under the fire of the enemy's guns. The situation after Sir Redvers Buller's first failure to relieve the town, as has been seen, grew more serious, and although it was very far indeed from what could be regarded as critical, there is to be remarked in telegrams and letters of this period a growing appreciation of its irksomeness. But dark as the sky looked it was flecked by many a brighter patch. There was a gay as well as a grave side to life in the besieged town, and to both Mr. Pearse does justice in a letter written on 21st December under the heading, "Amenities of a Siege." It is as follows:—
We have done our best to endure shells, privations, and the approach of a sickly season with fortitude if not absolute cheerfulness, and our hope is that though the position here may not seem a very glorious one, it will be recognised henceforth as an example of the way in which British soldiers and colonists of British descent can bear themselves in circumstances that try the best qualities of men and women.