Twelve o'clock passed, one o'clock, two o'clock—and still the fire was kept up; and still the burning rays of the sun were scorching us. Clouds! But they threw no shadow over us. Everywhere small patches of shade checkered the hills and valleys; but they seemed to avoid us.
But a black mass of cloud is rising in the west, and we know now that everything will soon be wrapped in shadow. Nearer and nearer to the zenith the clouds are rising. What is that deep rumbling in the distance? Thunder! Nearer and nearer it sounds, and presently we hear it overhead above the din of the musketry and the boom of the cannon. How insignificant the crash of the cannons sounds now. It is as the crackle of fireworks when compared with the mighty voice of God!
We got more than shadow from the clouds. At five o'clock great drops splash on the rocks. Presently the rain fell in torrents, and I could wash the blood of the wounded from my hands in it.
It was now, just when the rain was descending in sheets of water and the thunder-claps were shaking the hill, that the enemy redoubled their efforts to drive us off the ledge, and our men had to do their utmost to repel the determined onslaught. Had they been driven down to the plain below, every burgher fleeing for his life would have formed a target for the enemy. The fight was now fiercer than at any time during the day. It is fearful to hear the roar of the thunder up above, and the crash of the rifles below. But the enemy did not succeed in driving us off. We remained there two and a half hours longer. Meanwhile we had been able to quench our thirsts. We had made folds in our mackintoshes in which we caught the rain, and then sucked it up. Streams of water too dashed down through the rocks, and we drank our fill. These streams of water came from the forts a few yards above us, and were red in colour. Was it red earth, or was it the blood of friend and foe that coloured the water? Whatever the cause, we were so thirsty that nothing would have kept us from drinking. After the English had done their utmost to drive us from the hill, and been baffled in their attempts, they returned to their forts, and the firing subsided for a short time. It was quieter now than it had been during the whole day, and the burghers had time to think how wet they had got. Those who had no overcoats were drenched to the skin, and many who an hour before did not know where to find shelter from the heat, could now scarcely endure the cold. A keen wind, too, blew on our damp clothes, and strong men stood shivering in the biting breeze.
It was now asked, "Where is Field-Cornet Jan Lyon?" Commandant de Villiers had known for more than an hour that that brave man had fallen; but he spoke to no one about it, for fear that the burghers should be discouraged. It could not, however, remain a secret. Soon everyone knew what had happened, and every countenance fell.
At last the sun set, and as it was clear to Commandant de Villiers that no reinforcements would come, and as he had already lost at least a third of his men, killed and wounded, he saw that it was impossible to remain there. He therefore told me that he would continue there a little while longer and withdraw when it became dark.
This took place at half-past seven. We had been on the hill for sixteen hours under a most severe fire, and now we retired; but we were not driven off by the Devons with levelled bayonets as I have read in an English book. We were not driven off the hill. We held it as long as it was light, and when twilight fell, Commandant de Villiers considered it useless to remain there. He stopped there till the last man had gone, then fired some shots, not, however, at Devons advancing with fixed bayonets, but in the air, in order to make the English think that we were still all in our positions. We then tramped through the water, till we reached our horses, and then rode to the laager, depressed in spirits, for we had left very dear ones behind us.
Of the Harrismith Commando there were 15 killed and 20 wounded; Heilbron, 4 killed and 13 wounded; Kroonstad, 3 killed and 2 wounded; Winburg, 1 wounded. Altogether 22 killed and 36 wounded. Including the Transvaalers, we had lost 68 killed and 135 wounded.
I can give no description of how the Transvaalers had fared, as I was not on their side of the hill; but there was the same lack of co-operation amongst them. Only the men of one commando had scaled the hill, and they, too, had to retire for want of support. Where were the 4000 who had been ordered to take the hill? Shamefully and criminally had they left their comrades in the lurch. In the highest circles, too, there was great mismanagement. One of the Long Toms, which had to take an important part in the battle, had three charges! Another gun, too, should have been posted at a certain spot; but it never turned up. One felt embittered on hearing of such disgraceful mismanagement.
The next morning dawned, and inexpressible emotion surged through me when in a moment I lived again through the events of the preceding day. I thought of Jan Lyon and the other brave fellows who had fallen; and when I knew that I should see them no more, my heart became as lead within me.