According to rough calculation, the opposing forces at Kimberley early in November stood thus:—
| Four companies of the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment; battery of Royal Garrison Artillery, consisting of six 7-pounder mountain guns; a large party of Royal Engineers; detachment of the Army Medical Corps | 2500 |
| In addition to these were the following irregular troops:— | |
| One battery Diamond Fields Artillery with six 7-pounder field guns, 3 officers and 90 non-commissioned officers and men; Diamond Fields Horse, 6 officers and 142 non-commissioned officers and men; Kimberley Regiment, 14 officers and 285 non-commissioned officers and men | 540 |
| Free Staters, and probably some Transvaal Boers, with four field-guns, 3500; on Orange River, 2000; reinforcements from Mafeking, 1000 | 6500 |
The disparity was not enlivening, but, though provisions were beginning to run low, pluck was inexhaustible. And with pluck, as with faith, one may move mountains.
On the 11th of November the bombardment of the town was commenced with great vigour, the Boers firing from three positions. Little serious damage was done, owing to the fact that many of the shells did not burst. In spite of the incessant brawling of artillery, the perpetual appearance of fog, and a stinging pall of smoke in which they lived, the inhabitants of the place kept up an air of cheery unconcern, which naturally they were far from feeling. They also determined to disquiet the enemy by continual threats of attack from unexpected quarters. With the spirit of philosophers they at times made small divertisements for themselves. Once when a cooking-pot was struck the debris were put up to auction, and some fun was got out of the brisk competition for the historic relics. Some of the choicest of these were knocked down—this time not by guns—for the sum of £2 a piece. The price of a complete shell was about £5, and portions of one could be purchased at proportionate rates. Bits and fragments fetched sums varying from half a crown to half a sovereign!
Nothing further happened, save that a cabdriver was captured, interrogated, threatened, and finally set free. Commandant Wessels, who sounded him regarding the dynamite mines round Kimberley, concluded with the message—a typical specimen of Boer braggadocio—“Tell Rhodes I shall take Wesselton mine next Tuesday, and then he must stand whiskies!”
On the 12th Lord Methuen, on whom all had pinned their faith, arrived with his staff at the Orange River. This was a red-letter day. The news of British relief so close at hand was most inspiriting, and those whose patience was inclined to languish began to take heart. In Kimberley itself the weather was fine and warm, and as yet little ill consequence from the shelling was suffered. A peacock was killed, some buildings damaged, some nervous persons terrified. The military authorities issued a proclamation ordering that all people not engaged with the defensive forces should give up arms and ammunition, a decision that was found necessary to prevent irresponsible persons from infringing the laws of civilised warfare.
On the 17th of November a force composed of detachments of the Diamond Fields Horse, Kimberley Light Horse, and Cape Police, under Colonel Scott Turner, went out with a field-gun and two Maxims to ascertain the strength of the enemy’s position at Lazaretto Ridge. The enemy, who were posted on a rocky mound between Carter’s Farm and the reservoir, opened fire on the advancing men, who, though some vigorous volleys were returned, were obliged to retire. Meanwhile the Beaconsfield Town Guard had a tussle with the foe, and, after much firing on either side, he eventually retired. As usual, he hid behind rocks and stones, and made himself generally inaccessible. On the following day some smart engagements ensued, and so brisk was the volleying from rifles and the booming of field-guns, that the townspeople believed that some decisive battle must be taking place. There were, however, few casualties.
All eyes were now fixed on the doings of the Kimberley relief force that was concentrating at Orange River. A few more weeks, nay, a few more days, and those patient, cheery prisoners would march out free to have their reckoning with the Boers. Lord Methuen, once joined by the Coldstream Guards, Grenadiers, and Naval Brigade, would be able to push on, and then the first big move in the war would be made. So they hoped, and with reason, for an electric searchlight, worked by the Naval Brigade under Colonel Ernest Rhodes, was signalling to Kimberley, whose searchlights were plainly visible to the advancing army.
To the dreary imprisoned inhabitants this mode of communication was vastly exciting. Every day the relief column was approaching nearer and nearer, and the patient though longing besieged began to feel as if they were already almost liberated. They commenced preparing an enthusiastic welcome for the incoming troops, and ironical farewell salutations were now levied at the Boers in acknowledgment of shells and of their general artillery prowess. At that time, coming events—the disasters of Majesfontein and Colenso—had not cast their shadows before! Mr. Rhodes was particularly cheery, and took most whimsically to the information conveyed through Kaffir sources that the enemy was keenly desirous of exhibiting him in a cage at Bloemfontein prior to despatching him to Pretoria! The brutal manners and customs of the Boers, however, were no subject for joke, as shown by their treatment of four “boys” who were found and captured while searching for stray cattle. After killing a couple of them, the enemy ordered the remaining two, having first flogged them, to bury the bodies of their comrades, and then go back to Kimberley and tell their friends how they had been treated.