SERGEANTS OF THE ROYAL HORSE ARTILLERY WITH A 12-POUNDER.
Photo by Gregory & Co., London.
The Boers were now energetically preparing a warm reception for General Buller. Small parties were found in the neighbourhood of Chieveley, and these were endeavouring to post their long-range guns in convenient positions for the defence of the river. They were not destined to have things entirely their own way, however, and were promptly engaged by the Imperial Light Horse and forced to retire. This they did to the tune of a tremendous explosion, which could be heard for miles off. It was caused by the blowing up of the Colenso bridge, for the purpose of impeding our possible advance. The iron bridge over the Tugela River had previously been rendered a hopeless wreck. The number of Boers round Colenso at this time was said to be about 15,000, with some 15 guns. At Frere camp our troops numbered about 3500, and at Estcourt there were about the same number, but reinforcements were expected.
SURPRISES AT LADYSMITH
At Ladysmith, St. Andrew's Day was duly kept by the Gordon Highlanders, and Scottish compliments, appropriately seasoned with whisky—now getting tragically scarce—were passed round. Sir George White dined with the gallant regiment. Now that the town was in heliographic communication with Sir Redvers Buller, and military intelligence was received regarding the movements of the relieving force, there was a general sense of security among those who had been incarcerated so long. The Ladysmith force under General White's command amounted to a total of some 12,500 troops, and these, could they once get free and join the force, numbering about 20,000, at Sir Redvers Buller's disposal, would have made a sensible difference on the fortunes of Natal. At this time provisions were fairly moderate in price, meat being one shilling a pound and bread fourpence a pound, but luxuries, liquors, &c., were growing scarce. For instance, a tin of milk—the last in Ladysmith—fetched three shillings, and eggs were purchasable for six shillings a dozen. The military authorities had commandeered all eatables, arranging that bread and meat should be sold at prices fixed for all. The health of the troops was kept up by athletic exercises, and the officers at times played polo. The bars at the hotels were closed, but mineral waters were obtainable. Horses began to look lean, though oats and mealies, bran and hay were forthcoming in sufficient quantity; but of pasturage there was little. The Boers made great efforts to shoot the cattle, thinking that though they might not storm the garrison they might starve it to surrender. Very few newspapers were smuggled into the town, and these were rapturously seized and devoured. Life was monotonous and a little sickness began to be apparent, many of the cases arising from using the muddy water of the river.
It was now discovered that the fashionable entertainment of the Dutch ladies was to take special weekly trains from Pretoria for the purpose of joining the Boers on the hills outside Ladysmith and inspecting the unhappy town. The forces surrounding the place were commanded by Schalk-Burger and Louis Botha, who doubtless, with Pretorian dames, were the heroes of the hour.
On Sundays Divine Service took place in the Church of England, the Congregational minister's house, and in the Convent, all these religious devotions partaking of a particularly solemn and earnest character. Every man stood, as it were, with his life in his hands before his God, and week after week it was impossible to say which of the devout flock might be missing, and have gone out into the invisible to solve the grana peut-être. There was a pathetic atmosphere surrounding these religious meetings that none who joined in them will ever forget.
On the 8th of December a very brilliant operation took place at Lombard's Kop. General Hunter, with a hundred picked men of the Imperial Light Horse under Colonel Edwards (5th Dragoon Guards), and five hundred Natal Carabineers under Colonel Royston, started from Ladysmith camp about nine o'clock on the previous night. Four abreast they marched from the outpost and faded in the gloom. The march lay across a stony, rugged plain, through the scrub of mimosa bush and among dongas deep and shallow. Close on the heels of Major Henderson and several of the Corps of Guides the troops pressed on. About ten o'clock they reached the base of the hill under Lombard's Kop, and there took up a position. While still pitch dark—two o'clock in the morning—they began to advance on their perilous enterprise, climbing up steep and slippery slopes, and stumbling over boulders, and tripping on loosened stones. The stars blinked, the sky seemed slumbering in one vast dream of blue. Stealthily they moved with the footfalls of tigers stalking their prey. Not a word was spoken. Scarcely a breath drawn.
Above, on the flat top of the hills, were the objects of British desire—the Boer guns. A 6-inch Creusot, throwing a 94-lb. shell, and a 4.7-inch howitzer, firing a 40-lb. shot. More anxious than sweetheart for the sight of his lady-love were these gallant fellows for the touch of these treasures. Up they went, each outracing the other, straining every nerve and muscle to gain the summit of the hill, to be first to handle the prize!
At last, when about half the distance had been cleared, they were challenged by the picket. "Wie gaat daar?"—"Who goes there?" he sang out in alarm. It was a thrilling moment. To the challenge there could be but one reply. That reply they gave. Shots rang out in the darkness. There was now no more creeping. Tongues of flame darted from every side. The troops pushed forward in the grey mysterious gloom to the ping of bullets that whizzed in shoals swiftly past their ears. Major Henderson dropped. More bullets rained down. A Guide fell wounded by cycle bearing-balls shot from a rifle—so it was subsequently said. One gallant fellow after another threw up his arms dying or dead. But still the troops pressed on, Colonel Edwards in advance shouting them on to victory. "Fix bayonets," he called with a voice of thunder, knowing there were but four bayonets among the lot. "Give 'em cold steel," shouted some one else with delirious rapture, and the Carabineers and Light Horse, with scarce a bayonet to their name, cheered and charged! But the Boers delayed not to find out if there were steel or no steel. They fled in dismay, leaving behind them their cherished guns. So swift indeed was their flight, that hats, boots, letters, everything—were scattered to the winds.