On May 12th, Eloff made his long-threatened and would-be final attack upon the town. At four o'clock in the morning the garrison was roused by heavy firing, and it soon became evident that something important was afoot. It was soon seen that the native stadt was in flames, and presently came the news that the fort occupied by the British South African Police had been taken by the enemy. As events proved later, Eloff and seven hundred men had advanced along the river-bed and got into Mafeking. They began to loot and to destroy immediately. The garrison, realizing that at last they were in for such a fight as they had long desired, worked like heroes, aided by the Baralongs, and fighting became general. Even the prisoners under sentence in gaol were released and armed, and fought manfully with the rest. All through the day the fight went on, the Boers being gradually surrounded by squadrons under Captain FitzClarence, Captain Marsh, and Captain Bentinck, and by the Baralongs under Major Godley. Finally the Boers were cornered—one party in the British South African Police Fort; another in one of the native kraals; a third in the kopje. Hundreds of them broke away, many to be shot as they fled. At last the British artillery got within forty yards of their principal position, and then Eloff surrendered. He had kept his word and got into Mafeking, and there for awhile he was to stay—as prisoner. He and his men were marched in batches into the town, and were received in silence by the British, but with hooting by the natives whose stadt they had burned. Baden-Powell's reception of the Boer commandant was interesting, and characteristic of the former. "This is Commandant Eloff, sir," said the officer in charge of the Boer leader. "Good evening, commandant," answered Baden-Powell. "Won't you come in and have some dinner?"
That was a great night in Mafeking. Men went about the town singing "Rule Britannia" and "God save the Queen," and cheering themselves hoarse. In the regimental messes and the hotels liquor which had been carefully hoarded away was brought out and healths were drunk. If they had only had definite news of it, the rejoicings would have been greater, for while the Mafeking garrison was engaged with Eloff and his men, the relief columns under Mahon and Plumer were drawing nearer to the town, and the long-desired succour was close at hand.
THE RELIEF AND THE EMPIRE
When Baden-Powell sent the famous despatch to Lord Roberts in which he drew the latter's attention to the fact that the garrison had now undergone a two hundred days' siege, the reply came back, "Relief on May 18th." This reply was pretty much in the nature of a prophecy, for the actual relief of Mafeking took place on May 17th. During the first two weeks of the month the two columns under Mahon and Plumer had been steadily forcing their way towards the beleaguered town, and on the 15th they joined hands, at a point thirty miles west of the town. As the relief columns drew nearer, the Boers, realizing that their efforts were hopeless, retreated in all directions, and on the 16th the besieged chiefly occupied themselves in watching Mahon's and Plumer's forces shelling the Boers out of their camps and laagers. In the evening Major Kerr-Davis and a few men of the Imperial Light Infantry rode into the town. Their reception was characteristically British. Stopping to tell a passer-by that they formed the advance guard of the relieving force, they were answered in laconic fashion, "Oh, yes; I heard you were knocking about outside somewhere!" But a good deal—more than a good deal!—of feeling doubtless lay behind that apparently careless answer. It may have been hard for the besieged to realize that Mafeking was really relieved at last. But on the morning of the 17th the relief force was in the town in strength, and the Boers were vanishing on the horizon.
It is difficult to realize the feelings of the besieged and of their succourers when the final meeting between them took place. The columns under Mahon and Plumer had worked hard and with true British zeal, and it must have aroused thoughts which could scarcely be put into words when the object of the expedition was achieved. Mr. Filson Young, special correspondent of the Manchester Guardian, accompanying the relief columns, gives the following account of the first glimpse of the little town:—
"As the sky brightened before us Mafeking was eagerly looked for, but for a long time each successive rise only showed us another beyond which hid the desired view. But at last, while some of us were buying eggs at a Kaffir kraal, a more adventurous person climbed upon a rubbish heap and shouted, 'There's Mafeking.' There was a rush for the coign of vantage, and a great levelling of glasses. There it lay, sure enough, the little town that we had come so far to see—a tiny cluster of white near the eastward horizon, glistening amid the yellowish-brown of the flats. We looked at it for a few moments in silence, and then Colonel Mahon said, 'Well, let's be getting on'; and no one said anything more about Mafeking, but every one thought a great deal."
With the siege over there were still many things to do. One of the first things done was thus graphically and pathetically described by the special correspondent of the Press Association:—
"This morning the garrison was paraded around the cemetery, where a combined memorial and thanksgiving service was held, and we said our last good-bye to those of our comrades who lie in the little graveyard, and who were killed in defending Mafeking. When the service was over, we tried to sing 'God save the Queen,' but the hymn sounded feeble and quavering, for most of us had lumps in our throats.