Patients Removed
"A huge cloud of dust rose high above the building, intermingled with the smoke, which issued forth from the windows. About fifty patients were inside the Town Hall at the time, and these were immediately removed into a large excavation adjacent to the building. A stone weighing about seventy pounds was thrust from the wall a distance of about 100 yards. The "Powerful" men's reply to this bomb of "Slim Piet's" was a plugged shell, which had the desired effect of silencing him for a few hours. The other Boer guns kept taking hot shots. One of these from Lombard's Kop struck and exploded on the top of a partially built house, which was being used as the kitchen for the Natal Police Field Force. Trooper Duncanson, who was at work there, was hit on the right side by portions of the shell, and died almost immediately. Then there was a cessation until dusk, when "Long Tom" sent half a dozen shells into Ladysmith very close to the Town Hall. "Night cometh on apace," and soon all was wrapped in darkness. The elements went to war; thunder and lightning, rain, and a half gale prevailing. Heaven's artillery seemed to mock the puny thunders of man's more deadly weapons. The Boers started firing at 10.40 P.M., and our guns, which must have been trimmed and ready, responded with alacrity.
"To date (25th November), the Boers have on three occasions shelled the town and camp at night. In the quietness of the night the noise of the shelling—the firing of the guns and the bursting of the shells—was awful in its volume and intensity."
Midnight Bombardment
A Ladysmith letter gives a thrilling account of a midnight bombardment: "To be awakened at midnight by a shower of ninety-four pound shells was a painful shock to the opinion we had formed of the good nature of the Boer Commander. Many people would not believe it, and concluded that they were victims of nightmare. But steel shells, with a bursting charge of melinite, do not encourage delusions.
"By the time half a dozen had rent the sky with terrific crash the town was awake, and silent figures in undress were flitting like uneasy ghosts about gardens and verandas. This was a new and unpleasant experience, very trying to the nerves. It had taken several days to get accustomed to shell fire between dawn and dusk. At first the flight of a shell turned one's thoughts to the caves in the river bank. But, after a time, when one began to realize how little damage was done, the instinct of Fate—more common among men of the East than of the West—asserted itself. The light of the sun and the presence of a crowd gave a sense of security. Everybody, unconsciously it may be, puts the question, "Why should a shell hit me rather than another?" In the solitude and shadows of the night this confidence in destiny is a sorry support. Each man thinks himself the sole target of the enemy, and feels that every shell is aimed at the pit of his stomach.
An Awe-Inspiring Cannonade
"The night was dark, and a solemn stillness was in the air, when suddenly the hills burst into intense and lurid life. The long black ridges kindled under a bright red flame. Then come the fateful moments. Scorching the deep blue sky, the shell rushes onward in seemingly interminable flight. During the day, amid the stir of life, this invisible, death-laden progress sounds short and sharp, like an arrow from a bow. The suspense is brief. But at night it sweeps alone like a meteor from horizon to zenith, and descends in a hissing curve like a white-hot bolt plunging into a fathomless sea. A second later and earth and air and sky are rent with the crash of bursting steel; a tongue of flame leaps upward, and the great amphitheatre of hills seethes with steel bullets and fragments of shell. For several nights the enemy kept up this awe-inspiring cannonade. The only result was to disturb one's slumber, and to drive women, children and a few nervous men to the caves."
Ladysmith Hard Pressed
January 6th the Boers made a desperate rush to storm Ladysmith, and the last heliographic message received at 3.15 P.M. by Sir Redvers Buller consisted only of the words, "Attack renewed. Very hard pressed." The sunlight then failed, and only a "camp rumour" that the Boers were defeated at 5 P.M., with a loss of 400 prisoners was forthcoming. At 2 P.M. on Sunday, another message reached Frere Camp with the news that the attack had been "repulsed everywhere with very heavy loss."