Cayley and Bearne were kindly treated but marched about unmercifully, eventually reaching the main Boer laager at Commando Nek, where a short time previously the Lincolns and Scots Greys had come to such terrible grief. There the unhappy pair were released to struggle twenty miles into Pretoria as best they might.
Shortly after the adventurous descent on the Crocodile River fastnesses, which I have already described, a second and larger patrol, with Captain Clifford again in command, set forth to avenge the disasters of the first. As I have a particular regard for my personal safety, and believing the neighbourhood accursed, I found it convenient to be otherwise occupied at the moment when patrol No. 2 started. And subsequent events proved me wiser than my generation. Not being present at what happened, I cannot, of course, tell exactly how it came about. Nor could I piece the twenty different accounts given me into a satisfactory whole, for the very good reason that no two of the stories afterwards told me would fit in. However, it would appear that it happened somewhat thus.
The party started out at daybreak, and reached the scene of the previous disaster in good time in the morning. Needless to say, the Boers were on the look-out this time, and so soon as the patrol hove in sight made their dispositions. With a wariness born of experience there was no venturing into the valley. The party spread over the ridge along which the Boers had followed them on the first occasion, and advanced in skirmishing order with scouts in front smelling out every nook and cranny. And so they came, as they say in racing parlance, right along the ridge until close up to the farmhouse. All the time the Boers in force were happily contemplating these operations from the opposite ridge, which they had selected as being the one not likely to be scouted. As the ridge ran into the hill behind the farmhouse it became necessary, if any act of retribution was to be performed on the farmer, to diverge from that line of advance and make for the farmhouse. This was done, and of course brought the patrol into closer order. At the farmhouse one of its occupants handed a note to Captain Clifford. It was from the farmer, and ran, ‘Am going down the road to kill a pig for a neighbour. Will be back in a few minutes.’ And then the band began to play. From the hill in front and the ridge on the right the Mausers spoke out their unwelcome messages in a continuous stream, till it seemed as if the blue sky above must crack for the noise. Round whipped the patrol and in went the spurs, Captain Clifford leading his men down the valley that seemed as if it must spell death for the whole party. There were 200 Boers in all firing at an average range of 800 yards for a distance of two miles. Several horses were shot, several fell, some stopped from exhaustion; but there was no way of getting out except along the road which ran parallel to the ridge occupied by the enemy. The rocky going on the other ridge precluded a retreat over its inhospitable sides, besides which it was commanded on both slopes from the hill behind the farmhouse.
That night at Irene the return of the patrol was anxiously awaited. It seemed a strange thing, to many marvellous, that no man had a mark on him, and this shows again what extraordinarily bad shooting the Boers are capable of at moving bodies, and particularly when they are not certain if another and concealed movement is not being conducted on their rear. Of the party sent on the expedition one by one continued to arrive back, some late the same night, some during the next day, some even the day after, until at last the lot were accounted for. Three of the unlucky patrol had trekked for Johannesburg, and advised us by telegraph of their safety. Another struck the railway at Kaalfontein. And so they straggled in, weary, hungry, and dirty. Several were taken prisoners, but treated kindly enough, one attention in particular being much appreciated. That was a stomach warmer of peach brandy before they were set free for their march back to Irene. Rather an insulting message given the released ones was to the effect that the Boers would have coffee ready next time we came.
After these events Colonel Lumsden’s request for more active employment than his corps could find on lines of communication was granted, and the sequel is described by a correspondent of the ‘Madras Mail’:
We left Springs on July 16th, expecting to join General Hutton, who, we heard, had had a severe engagement with heavy casualties, and was in want of more mounted troops. However, after a night at Kaalfontein we moved on to Irene, which place is the headquarters of the 8th Mounted Infantry, now on communications between Johannesburg and Pretoria. We remained at Irene a week, during which time we had some half-dozen men taken prisoners owing to their horses giving out when being pursued by the Boers, who were always lying in wait for our patrols. We were exceedingly fortunate in having nobody hit on these occasions. The prisoners were in every case released, their rifles and horses, of course, being taken from them. Apparently the Boers now find prisoners an encumbrance.
On the 22nd we moved to Pretoria, camping three miles outside the town. Pretoria is prettily situated in a hollow surrounded by hills. These hills to the south-west, and about ten miles out, sheltered a number of Boers, and on the 27th we set out on a reconnaissance to find out something about them. The force, under Brigadier-General Hickman, consisted of the 2nd, 6th, 7th, and 8th Mounted Infantry Regiments, a battery of Field Artillery, and a battalion of Infantry (the Cornwalls). We saw nothing of the enemy until evening, when the advance guard came into touch and exchanged shots with the enemy’s scouts, who retired. The next morning we had scarcely started when we heard the now familiar double thud of the Mauser, and found that the Oxford Company of the 8th Mounted Infantry were engaged. It was a very different country from what we had been used to, and it did not suit us nearly so well. We were in a valley with steep hills on either side, the slopes of which were covered with loose stones and rocks of every size and shape, which made the going almost impossible for horses and very trying for the men. The pom-poms came into action close on our left and shelled a steep kopje opposite for some time; meanwhile, a brisk rifle fire was being kept up by the Mounted Infantry on our left. At the end of about an hour the General had apparently found out all he wanted to know, for the order to retire came, the 8th Mounted Infantry to act as rearguard. Lumsden’s were deputed to guard the left flank, which we did, retiring by alternate companies along the top of the range of kopjes, while the Infantry and guns moved along the valley. The enemy followed in a half-hearted way, but were easily kept in check by the pom-poms, which dropped shells into them whenever they showed themselves in any numbers. Beyond firing at a few of their scouts, we (i.e., Lumsden’s) saw nothing of them. The casualties had been slight, the Oxford Company 8th Mounted Infantry having one man killed and one wounded. An officer’s charger hit was all the damage done to Lumsden’s Horse.
On the 27th General Ian Hamilton’s division, consisting of General Bruce Hamilton’s, General Mahon’s, and General Hickman’s brigades, marched into Pretoria. Lord Roberts and his Staff, with General Ian Hamilton on his right and Lord Kitchener on his left, took up his position in the market square while the troops marched past, cheering him as they went. The same day we heard the good news that 5,000 of the enemy had surrendered to General Hunter.
More active service, however, meant for Lumsden’s Horse a transfer to some other column, and the time had thus come when they were to bid farewell to Colonel Ross, under whom they had served for four months, and from their comrades of the 8th Mounted Infantry, with whom they had marched and fought in many actions. Colonel Lumsden expressed the feeling of all ranks in his parting words to Colonel Ross, which were full of appreciation for the many kindnesses shown by that gallant commander towards Lumsden’s Horse. What Colonel Ross thought of the corps and its officers may be gathered from the regimental order acknowledging their services, and from a letter in which Colonel Ross writes as follows:
Lumsden’s Horse joined the 8th Corps M.I. about the middle of April 1900, and served with the corps till the end of July, when they were transferred to General Mahon’s command. This was probably the most completely equipped ‘unit’ that joined the forces in South Africa during the war—a well-organised regimental transport, of Indian pattern, a complete regimental hospital and veterinary establishment, and every ‘necessary’ of life for man and beast for a campaign in almost any country.