Startled by the firing, Captain Clifford’s horse took fright, and, galloping away, was lost in the distance, Clifford being then on foot controlling the firing. ‘General’ Parks gallantly offered to ride out and catch the beast, and was allowed to do so. He quickly vanished from sight, and nobody knew whither he had gone. As the convoy had moved on, orders came for the rearguard to do likewise, and our corps, together with the 7th Dragoon Guards, retired in extended line to the next ridge, an observation post, to endeavour to show Parks the way in. As there was no sign of him for a considerable time, Captain Taylor, the Adjutant, who had been indefatigable all the morning, exposing himself to encourage us while we were in a really tight corner, took out a subsection and scoured the country round searching for Parks, but without success. The sections (Nos. 4 and 2 of B Company) had to move on, but Corporal Graves and Troopers Morison, Maxwell, and Betts, on their own responsibility and in a Quixotic spirit of chivalry, resolving not to abandon Parks, stayed behind to assist him. There was danger in that decision, as it exposed those men to the risk of getting mixed up with, or, at any rate, mistaken, for the enemy. Captain Sidey noticed their absence, and, being certain they were in danger from our own guns, sent Trooper Behan to order the adventurous troopers back. In a sporting spirit, however, the men who had made up their minds to see Parks through refused to come in and remained on the observation post. Shortly after, another messenger was sent, with threats of instant arrest if orders were not obeyed. Just as this man arrived, Parks was seen through a glass leading the Captain’s horse about two miles away to the left rear and close to the flanks of the former position from which the Boers had been firing. He was making a very bad line to rejoin us, so Morison offered to gallop down and endeavour to show him the way, despite the half-company officer’s orders. This he did and succeeded in bringing in Parks, but directly our small party, retiring, crowned the rise, O Battery, from a distance of 4,600 yards, being informed that we were most certainly Boers, plumped a shell into the middle of us, the wind of the shell knocking off Graves’s hat and bursting a horse’s length behind the party, and, needless to say, we galloped in for all we were worth. Luckily for us, the gunner was informed who we were before sending a second shot along. He remarked, however, that he thought it was a jolly good shot.
Captain Taylor gives a slightly different version of the incident:
We were acting as rearguard to Dickson’s column, when Captain Clifford’s horse took fright and ran away while his master was dismounted. One of our sailors, Parks, went after it, and followed it for two miles at right angles to our line of advance. We saw him catch the horse and begin leading it back, and then saw him no more, though we waited half an hour. As messages were coming from the rearguard commander to us to follow more quickly, we had to leave, all fully convinced that our poor Parks had been ambushed.
CORPORAL J. GRAVES
After a mile or so, our widely extended line came down a long, fairly steep incline, on the top of the opposite slope of which we saw our Battery O in position. As we neared the bottom of the intervening valley the battery opened fire with one round, which burst on the top of the slope we had just left, and looking round we saw a party of six men riding down at a gallop, waving a handkerchief. They turned out to be some of our own men, who, having at the last moment seen Parks coming in, waited for him. The battery had seen the heads of mounted men in slouch hats advance quickly, and, mistaking them for Boers following us, had ‘laid’ for them. The shot was such a good one that it knocked off the hat of Sergeant Graves, and the Adjutant’s office went near to losing its clerk, and the Bank of Bengal one of its rising staff.
Another correspondent continues the narrative:
On the 26th the united brigades reached Heidelberg by sundown, but sustained two casualties in the rearguard. The safe escort of the convoy is locally reported as a creditable performance, and there were no fewer than 150 casualties in the united brigades since leaving Machadodorp. It was a very trying march, as rain fell nearly every day in torrents. Sleep was out of the question in deep pools of water, and réveille daily at 2.30 A.M. gave us little rest. We had taken 109 prisoners and brought on some twenty refugee families. Heidelberg is the prettiest town we have yet seen in the Transvaal, nestling as it does at the base of a rugged kopje in a perfect tope of eucalyptus, willow, peach, and oak trees. The majority of the houses are above the ordinary type—flowers abound in the gardens, and the surrounding veldt has donned its spring coat of green; the fruit trees are loaded with fruit, which in another month should sweeten our rations of dry biscuits. But—there is a ‘but’—the stores are absolutely barren. Foodstuffs and provisions of every kind are badly needed by the residents themselves. A Wesleyan clergyman informed the writer that he hadn’t tasted meat for a week.
Roses abounded in the gardens attached to the picturesque villas, and altogether a feeling of peace and security seemed to prevail. Our stay was a limited one, and on the 30th (morning) the trek was resumed through Nigel to Springs. The country we had to traverse is rich in mineral wealth, gold and coal mines being already in existence, while hundreds of claims are pegged out against the setting-in of peace and the advance of the capitalist. At Springs, on the return journey to Pretoria, we were saluted by Colt guns, which were repeatedly fired at us as we approached the trenches, manned by British troops. Our men were naturally very irate, and wanted very much to fire back. They considered it particularly hard lines, since we had been marching in the open and heliographing from a distance of ten miles. The 31st was a great day, as a parade before His Excellency Lord Roberts was fixed for 10.30 A.M. The Commander-in-Chief was punctual to time, and during the inspection addressed himself to the several companies as he met them. The various regiments then went past in order of brigades and returned to camp. Major Chamney, before dismissing Lumsden’s Horse, paraphrased what Lord Roberts had said to him for the benefit of the regiment. Briefly, it was to the effect that the disbandment of the corps was at the present time impossible, but Lord Roberts had telegraphed to His Excellency the Viceroy asking him to use his influence in keeping appointments open as far as possible.
Lumsden’s Horse had requested disbandment on the reasonable grounds of pressing business in India, and the fact of local Colonial and other Volunteer corps—notably the C.I.V., Loch’s Horse, and others—having been disintegrated. At first an abrupt refusal was given, but yesterday General French telegraphed to Lord Kitchener and strongly recommended our case. A reply has been received that only those having business of an urgent nature in India may return, but they must pay their own expenses back, only a railway ticket to port of embarkation being provided. Needless to say, many are going even on these conditions, but those who desire to go to England have to hang on for an indefinite period of time still. Only from Machadodorp three Surma Valley men were allowed to leave, as their appointments were in jeopardy. These men had free passages back given them. Again, a fortunate few have been given employment in South Africa, and they were permitted to leave as their appointments were secured. These number altogether about twenty. Colonel Lumsden is unfortunately still away from the regiment, sick at Pretoria. Major Chamney, officiating in command, finds his hands tied to some extent, and cannot do much for us in matters of such moment. But the feeling in the regiment is very strong, and the term ‘Volunteer’ is sneered at as a misnomer. If the war was not over it would be quite another matter; but it has been announced that the war is practically ended, and the duties now to be performed are in the nature of police work.