"Pass the loaf."
Those of us who sit at home at our entire or comparative ease can scarcely comprehend the full meaning of these messages, nor of the heroism of the men who, sorely tried by hunger and disease, were keeping up the flag with such stern, immovable determination. In the town, hunger and sickness; outside the town, an enemy so bitterly unscrupulous as to observe no civilized conditions of warfare, and whose leaders did not scruple to fire on women, children, and sick men—here was a situation in which surely nobody but the most courageous could have preserved a cheerful confidence. How that confidence struck Baden-Powell may be judged from the despatch which he sent to Lord Roberts on the 200th day of the siege. "After 200 days' siege," he said, "I desire to bring to your lordship's notice the exceptionally good spirit of loyalty that pervades all classes of this garrison. The patience of everybody in Mafeking in making the best of things under the long strain of anxiety, hardship, and privation is beyond all praise, and a revelation to me. The men, half of whom are unaccustomed to the use of arms, have adapted themselves to their duties with the greatest zeal, readiness, and pluck, and the devotion of the women is remarkable. With such a spirit our organization runs like clockwork, and I have every hope it will pull us successfully through."
THE LAST DAYS
About the end of April a new Boer commandant appeared on the scene at Mafeking in the person of Sarel Eloff, a near kinsman of President Kruger. He was the fifth Transvaal officer to be placed in charge of the Boer attack, and it was rumoured that he was specially ordered to succeed where the elder and younger Cronjes, Snyman, and Botha had failed. But the siege had now been in progress for seven months, and the Boers were in no better position than at first. So far as the actual taking of the town was concerned they were in a much worse position, for Baden-Powell's watchfulness and daring had driven back their lines, wrecked a good many of their works, and done more damage to their forces than they had succeeded in effecting amongst the garrison. From a military point of view there was now little, if any, advantage likely to accrue to the Boers by this capture of Mafeking. If Cronje had reached the town by assault during the first few days of the siege he would have been able to command a large stretch of country, and in a position to dominate Rhodesia, but the lapse of several months had changed everything, and from the tactician's point of view there was nothing to be gained by the fall of Mafeking. Nevertheless the Boers continued to surround the place, and were able on more than one occasion to drive back the relieving force under Colonel Plumer, who advanced at various times to within a very near distance of the town. What the feelings of the besieged, weary with constant watching and weak with hunger and privation, must have been when it was known that their would-be succourers had been within six miles of them, and had then been obliged to fall back, may be better imagined than described.
However sick with hope deferred some of the folk in the little town may have been, there was no feeling of despair in the heart of the man by whose genius and energy the defence was finally conducted to such a glorious issue. It is almost—perhaps entirely—beyond the powers of the stay-at-home, fireside-loving Englishman to comprehend the extraordinary strength of purpose and firmness of will shown by Baden-Powell during this historic siege. If one could realize what it must have meant to be shut up in Mafeking during all those weary months, with heavy responsibilities of various natures crowding upon one, and conducting all things to final victory, one might understand Baden-Powell. When the siege was over, he, with the modesty which is not the least charm of his character, strove to give praise to others, instead of allowing it to be showered solely upon himself. "Many nice things have been said about me at home," he remarked, "but it is an easy thing to be the figure-head of a ship." What sort of figure-head Baden-Powell was may be gathered from the following interesting sketch of him, extracted from a despatch of the special correspondent of the Pall Mall Gazette during the last weeks of the siege:—
"He is a wonderfully tireless man, ever on the alert, ever with one eye on the enemy and the other divided between the town and that nightmare, the native stadt. Some say that he never sleeps, and I half believe the statement. I have frequently seen him myself at the peep-of-day crossing the veldt on his return to town after visiting all the works, with the customary tune on his lips; and half an hour afterwards he was on the roof with his glasses glued to his eyes, having an early look at the enemy. Later on he takes a constitutional walk up and down before his quarters like one doing sentry-go. An hour or so later he is on the stoep writing his diary, generally with his left hand, for with his wonderful foresight he has recognized that in pursuing his trade he may lose his right, and he does not wish to be left in the lurch. Again he is on the roof once more, having another look at the enemy, and if everything is particularly quiet, he trusts the look-out men and goes to his nook to dip into a novel or have a stretch under his mosquito curtain. I always know that he is there as I pass when I see a pair of tan boots sticking out.
