Colonel Pilcher’s programme, however, was not divulged. Great caution was preserved, as the country was swarming with native spies, and all movements of the troops were watched and reported to the enemy. The Colonel therefore very adroitly arranged that no person should have a chance of reporting his movements, and caused a watch to be kept on all the natives, and these during the night were shut in their huts to prevent any from escaping and communicating the intention of the troops. The vigilance was certainly well rewarded. At daybreak the force steadily marched out, creating as little dust as possible, and took up a position at a place some fifteen miles off, called Sunnyside. Here the enemy’s laager was reported to be situated. It was posted on two connected kopjes to north and south, and towards these kopjes the troops advanced. When within a distance of some four miles the troops halted. Major de Rougemont with two guns under Lieutenant Atkinson, Captain Barker with the Toronto Company of Canadians, and Lieutenants Ryan and Smith with the Mounted Infantry were ordered in the direction of the enemy’s laager to the north; while Colonel Pilcher with Colonel Ricardo and the Queenslanders, A Company under Captain Chaucer, and B Company under Captain Pinnock, advanced from the south. Patrols were sent to the east. All was done with great quietness and precision, and the Boer tactics so closely imitated that the enemy were unconscious of the arrival of the British till the troops were upon them. Major Rougemont’s force made use of all the existing cover, which luckily was sufficient to screen both man and horse, and in a very short time had discovered some excellent ground which gave on to the Boer position. The enemy’s laager was ensconced in a nest of trees, at the base of a range of kopjes commanded by a convenient ridge. This ridge—reported by the Mounted Infantry to be clear of the enemy—with great promptness was practically seized and occupied before the Boers had sufficiently gathered themselves together to contest the position. The guns were advanced at a trot, and unlimbered within 1500 yards of the laager, into which two shells were neatly plumped, with a stupendous detonation that startled the whole surrounding neighbourhood. Up scrambled the Boers, streaming and bounding along the sides of the kopje like stampeded goats, and commencing to fire with all their might. Upon our guns and gunners came a torrent of lead fierce and sustained. Two Maxims under Captain Bell now prepared to give tongue from the right, and then the Toronto Company was ordered to double into action. They leapt to the word. With a gasp of relief they cried, “At last!” and were off. When within 1000 yards of the position their rifles came into play. A hurricane of bullets met the enemy’s fire: met it, continued fiercely—and finally subdued it.
While the guns under Lieutenant Atkinson were booming and banging, the Mounted Infantry, ably led by Lieutenant Ryan, were working their way along the right, and hunting the enemy from a concealed position among the scrub. At midday Colonel Pilcher and the Queenslanders were steadily nearing the position from three separate directions. They approached under cover, cautious as tigers and nimble as cats, finally firing, and returning the fire, but only when they caught glimpses of the enemy. Then they blazed away to good purpose, and continued to approach nearer and ever nearer, till the enemy, in view of the persistent and deadly advance, shrank from his ground, and sulkily retired. The dexterity of the Queenslanders was remarkable; they stalked the enemy as a sportsman would stalk a deer, criticising their own fire and the fire of the foe with workmanlike coolness and interest. The success of these tactics was complete. The laager was captured, and with it forty ill-kempt, surly prisoners. Lieutenant Adie, who was with a patrol of four men, came suddenly on a number of the enemy, and was wounded in two places, but he was saved and carried off by two plucky fellows, Butler and Rose, who came to his rescue. The latter was wounded, and his horse was killed. Another dashing Queenslander, Victor Jones, was shot through the heart, and Macleod, an equally brave comrade, after many lucky escapes, while advancing with Colonel Pilcher’s force, was shot through the spine. While these heroic and tragic doings were taking place, General Babington with a mounted force had been working hard, his operations having been arranged for the purpose of co-operating with Colonel Pilcher, and distracting the enemy’s attention from the north. These manœuvres had the desired effect, and the day’s work, apart from its pathetic side, was accounted a glorious success. So cleverly had the proceedings been contrived, and so ingeniously were the orders interpreted by one and all, that the Boers were completely nonplussed. There was a hurried stampede, and the Federals bolted, leaving their laager with all its luxuries, its boiling soup, its gin and water bottles, &c., at the mercy of the invaders.
COLONEL PILCHER’S ATTACK ON SUNNYSIDE KOPJE—CANADIAN AND AUSTRALIAN CONTINGENTS RECEIVE THEIR “BAPTISM OF FIRE.”
Drawing by H. C. Seppings Wright from Sketch by Fred. Villiers.
A vivid description of the Boer camp was given by Mr. Frederick Hamilton of the Toronto Globe, who accompanied the Canadians.
“Fourteen ancient tents, their blankets, kettles, and camp utensils, tossed about in wild confusion. Three long waggons of the type in which the voortrekkers voyaged the veldt, a team of a dozen magnificent oxen, a big water-cart which we eyed greedily, a Kaffir wattled hut, its floor piled high with odds and ends of clothing and valuables, its doorway marked by a shell-smash; the rocky kopje-side behind, a flat plain dotted with shaggy, bushlike trees in front—such was the Boer laager. Prisoners came from here and there, over a score from the kopje-top, more from this corner and that of the field, and were taken to the hut. Within it and around its door they squatted, a silent downcast crew; what a mess they had made of their affairs! Perhaps they were not so despondent as we thought, for one man as he sat in the guarded group pointed out a rifle which one of the victors was carrying, and claimed it as his own—a piece of cheek which staggered our men. The prisoners claimed only part of our attention; with eager curiosity the camp was ransacked. At last we had our hands upon these Boers: what manner of men were they, and how did they live? Poorly enough, I should say; the camp must have been densely crowded with the motley gathering, and we could see the odd admixture of practical barbarism with occasional contact with civilisation, as when good suits of clothes lay side by side with repulsive-looking strips of biltong. We felt that all this was ours, ours by right of battle, ours by virtue of victory. Perhaps we were wrong, perhaps the confiscated property of rebels should fall to the Crown, but as long as men go to war so long will victors walk through the camp of the vanquished with just that feeling swelling through their veins. Something else lay heavy upon us—thirst. It raged through us. The yellow pool where the veldt cut into the kopje face filled our water-bottles, and we drank and drank. The foul dregs of the Boers’ water-cart were drained with joy. As the sun was setting our own water-cart with more wholesome water drove up, and we drank and drank again. As our fires were lighted, what receptacles could be found were filled and the muddy fluid boiled. Our transport waggons were miles away, and for tea or coffee we were dependent on what we found in the Boer waggons. I remember drinking a cup of hot water and finding it most refreshing. Food was foraged. One section of our men found a sheep’s carcass hanging up under a tree, slaughtered by the rebels before our shell changed the tenor of their day. Some had hardtack or army rations in their haversacks. Here and there they picked up enough to make up a meal, not especially plentiful, and very scrappy, but satisfying. Indeed a most peculiar thing about the whole affair was the great amount of work we managed to do on a very small amount of food. The shadows of the evening were falling as we finished our meal, sent out the necessary pickets, and prepared for rest.”
Later came the death of poor Macleod the Queenslander, whose wound had been mortal. As the Queenslanders had early moved on to Rooi Pan (a farmhouse across the veldt where rebels were suspected to be in hiding), the Canadians took upon themselves the duty of conducting the sad ceremonies of burial. A grave was dug and a New Testament found. Then the Canadians slowly bore to its last resting-place the remains of the heroic young Colonial who had lost his life in the service of the mother country. Major Bayly, the Staff Officer of the expedition, read a few selections from Corinthians over the body, after which it was consigned to the heart of the veldt. A rude cross bearing his name and corps was placed to mark the spot, and written thereon was also the intimation that it was “Erected by his Queensland and Canadian comrades.” The noble young fellow Victor Jones secured less formal burial, though his loss was as deeply regretted. On the following day two of his comrades from Rooi Pan started off in search of his body, and having found it, buried it without ceremony or rite, but with the keenest feelings of sorrow.
On this day, the 2nd of January, the work of destruction of Boer effects was begun. Soon after dawn a huge bonfire was made under such waggons and ammunition of the foe as could not be utilised, and as the troops marched out they were saluted by the appalling uproar of the exploding cartridges. The procession, as it moved on its way to Rooi Pan, a distance of some four or six miles, presented a somewhat mediæval aspect in spite of symbols of modernity—magazine rifles and machine guns. In front was the wide expanse of grassy veldt; behind, the curling blue smoke from the burning wreckage of the camp. Along the road came the heavy springless waggons piled high with booty, their negro drivers flourishing their long whips and repeating their vociferous bark of “Eigh” to encourage the small, contumacious mules. With them marched the bronzed, picturesque-looking army with its train of captives in the rear, an unkempt, dilapidated crew—a strange contrast to the lively and robust Canadians, who, rejoiced at their yesterday’s feat, were singing as they tramped along. Very curious was it to hear, instead of the familiar British airs our soldiers love, the Niagara camp-song with its Hallelujah chorus, and the popular “The Maple Leaf” proceeding from the brawny throats of these brother soldiers of the Queen. Their joy and their triumph was complete, and with a good night’s rest and the beautiful morning air to refresh them, their spirits were effervescent in the extreme.
At Rooi Pan there was a halt for half-an-hour, during which Colonel Pilcher took the opportunity to address his force, and convey to them congratulations on the recent fight which had been forwarded by General Wood, commanding at the Orange River. Water-bottles were then filled from the clear pond in the farm of one of the prisoners, and soon, the sun growing momentarily hotter, the party advanced. This time their route lay over dust ankle-deep in places, dust which rose up in clouds and came down into eyes and ears and throats, and settled itself in hot cakes and rings on hair and beards and necks. But presently, after a few miles, the state of things was improved. Government roads stretched a smooth highway in front, and kopjes—the dangerous kopjes that afforded such comfortable hiding-places for the wily foe—grew fewer and farther between. There was now comparative comfort, for there was little fear of encounter with the enemy in the open.