“Mafeking, April 7.
“To his Honour General Snyman.
“Sir,—I have the honour to acknowledge your letter of to-day. In regard to the pass signed ‘Mackenzie,’ this man had no authority to issue a pass of any kind, much less for the purpose stated. I am obliged to you for bringing the case to my notice. As regards your Honour’s statement that your burghers killed thirty-two natives, I beg to inform you that I know nothing whatever about these men. They were certainly not acting under orders received from myself, nor, so far as I am aware, from any of my officers. I would point out that there are a number of natives about the country in a destitute condition owing to their homes having been burnt and their cattle stolen by your burghers, and it is only too probable that they have taken the law into their own hands to endeavour to obtain food. Of this I have warned your honour before. For their acts I must decline to be held in any way responsible.—I have the honour to be your obedient servant,
R. S. S. Baden-Powell, Colonel commanding H.M. troops in Mafeking.”
On the 10th of April, in the dead of night, the enemy’s field-guns were moved to positions completely surrounding the town, and shells were poured in with unparalleled persistency. Thirty dropped into the women’s laager—four into the hospital. Under cover of the bombardment the Boers, who had been reinforced by a German corps, made an attack on Fort Abrams, which they imagined had been disabled by their shell-fire. They were somewhat amazed to find that the garrison of the fort was not only alive, but kicking. The corporal in charge, who had calmly waited till his assailants had got within range, suddenly poured a fierce volley on the approaching numbers. Result: five of the enemy were left on the field, to be recovered later under a Red Cross flag. The effects of bombardment were many and various. At one time the Dutch Church was struck, at another some shells bounded on the roadway, flew through the air straight across the town, landing with awful detonations a mile on the other side. Some failed to burst, and then the duty of extracting the charge was a ticklish one. One man in so doing was blown to ribbons, pieces of him being cast to the winds and picked up quite a hundred yards from the scene of the disaster. Another man was so forcibly struck that a portion of leg and boot were forced through the iron-roofed verandah some seventy yards off! Every house was pocked with its melancholy tale. There were holes you could jump through in the ceiling of some of the rooms, while others were shattered past recognition. Dixon’s Hotel had its end smashed, and the market-place bore signs of merciless battering.
SERGEANT—18th HUSSARS
Photo by Gregory & Co., London
On the 12th a welcome guest came in the form of a pigeon, bearing a message from Colonel Plumer. No small creature of the winged tribe had ever before conveyed so much satisfaction, save perhaps the first prominent performer in the days of the ark. News also arrived by runner, of Mr. Smitheman’s safe arrival, and a message from her Majesty was delivered to Colonel Baden-Powell. This kindly expression of the Sovereign’s sympathy was highly appreciated, and served to inspirit the whole community.
Later, a splendid effort was made by Colonel Plumer’s force to run a herd of cattle into the town. A party of Baralongs, under a native captain, got to within seven miles of the town when they were attacked on both flanks by the enemy. They nevertheless pursued their way, screening themselves as far as possible behind the bodies of the cattle, which were driven in front of them. But the Boer fire was unerring, and soon only fifteen of the poor beasts remained. These, at last, had to be abandoned, for owing to the lack of ammunition the cattle-runners were forced to make themselves scarce. Such as were wounded were left behind, and were murdered by the Boers. Several native women who, from fear of starvation, attempted to pierce the Boer lines, were also put to death. This behaviour much incensed the British, for the Baralongs had from the first earned the esteem of the community by their unswerving loyalty. Major Baillie, writing home, eulogised their conduct, and expressed a hope that their devotion would be recognised at the end of the war. He said:—
“After the first day’s shelling the mouthpiece of the Baralong tribe, Silas Molemo, came up to Mr. Bell, the resident magistrate, and said to him, ‘Never mind this; we will stick to you and see it through,’ which they certainly have done. They are not a tribe who would make a dashing attack, or, to use the expression, ‘be bossed up’ to do things which they don’t particularly want to; but, given a defensive position, they will hang on to it for all they are worth, as they have proved many times during the war in the defence of their stadt. They have had their cattle raided, their outlying homesteads destroyed, their crops for this year are nil, and all through a time when the outlook to a native mind must have seemed most black they have unswervingly and uncomplainingly stuck to us, and never hesitated to do anything they were called on to do.” (It is pleasant to note that after the relief the Baralongs received formal recognition of their splendid loyalty.)
“The better the day, the better the deed,” was evidently the motto of the Boers, for on Good Friday they applied their energies to the construction of new trenches and fortifications about fifteen hundred yards beyond their former position. In order not to be behind the times, the bread ration of the day was marked with a cross, to do duty as a “hot cross bun.” On the following day misfortune hung over the place, for two troopers, Molloy and Hassell, belonging to the Fort Ayr garrison, were caught by a shell and mortally wounded. On Easter Day there were sports to revive the spirits of the garrison.
On the 19th of April the Creusot gun was withdrawn, and the inhabitants took heart. To vary their menu they now engaged in a locust haul, the result of which was to supply a third variant to the bill of fare. Lady Sarah Wilson, telegraphing to her friends, described her diet of horse sausages, minced mule, and curried locusts! The latter insects were reported to be tender as chicken and as tasty as prawn “almondised.” The natives had a good meal, and visibly grew fat. On the following day a telegram was received from Lord Roberts requesting the garrison to hold out till the 18th of May. It was disappointing, none could deny, but they consoled themselves that a message showing they were marked down in the programme of “coming events” was better than nothing at all. Fortunately the food still held out. Water—pure water—was rare as Edelweiss, and liquor of other kind was unobtainable. Only money was what our friends on the Stock Exchange call “tight.” The bank was closed to the general public, and her Majesty’s presentment upon a coin was a prize to be cherished and clung to till—well, till the crack of doom should make the ever-promised and never-realised relief unnecessary.