A HALT ON THE MARCH TO BARBERTON:
GENERAL MAHON AND COLONEL WOOLS-SAMPSON
(A Snapshot by the Editor)
CHAPTER XVII
MARCHING AND FIGHTING—FROM MACHADODORP TO HEIDELBERG
AND PRETORIA UNDER GENERALS FRENCH AND
DICKSON
Before presenting as a connected whole the separate descriptions dealing with a movement which had for its object the disintegration of Boer forces that still held the high veldt and thus threatened both railway lines east of Johannesburg, it will be well to summarise briefly the experience of troopers under Captain Beresford’s command while separated from the headquarters of their corps. It will be remembered that when General Mahon set out from Pretoria to join General French in his dash on Barberton more than two-thirds of Lumsden’s Horse were left behind waiting for remounts, with instructions to follow as fast as possible, or as soon as General Cunningham, under whose orders they were placed for a time, might permit. What happened then is especially interesting as evidence of the class of horse that was being issued to mounted troops at that stage for operations against an exceedingly mobile enemy. The Boers were then practically nomads, having no fixed bases from which supplies were drawn, and therefore no lines of communication to be cut. Pursuit of them was therefore very much like hunting a fox that has been driven out of his own familiar country. If he runs the pack ‘out of scent,’ there is nothing to serve as a guide for the casts that may be made in hope of hitting off the line again, for nobody can say what the probable ‘point’ is; and unless he can be brought to hand by a pursuit that never tires and never goes wrong, we may be sure that there is no chance of running him to ground. Most of the Boer leaders at that time had their wives and families with them. Mrs. De la Rey had been living in an ox-waggon, without fixed abode, since the beginning of war, and accompanying her husband on every trek from Magersfontein to Colesberg, and thence in succession to Driefontein, Brandfort, Kroonstad, the Vaal River, then on to meet Mahon’s column south of Mafeking, back in haste for the defence of Johannesburg and Pretoria, from there to Diamond Hill (or Rietfontein as the Boers call it), then back northward through the bushveldt, and so to the Magaliesberg Range again. Against an enemy thus independent of railways or beaten tracks none but well-mounted troops with horses in the best of condition could hope to achieve much. For corps in the same plight as Lumsden’s Horse, however, nothing better could be found than under-bred Argentines or weedy Hungarians, gross from the combined effects of idleness and injudicious feeding, and soft from want of exercise, badly broken, and therefore ill-mannered. One trooper, whose comments are based on actual experience, as he was among the men to whom horses were issued for trial, only on the morning of the day when they marched from Pretoria, writes of the ‘strange exhibitions’ with this lot of remounts which, to put it mildly, had not been ridden much before. ‘They were just off the ship, fat and very soft, and full of beans. One fellow was bucked off, another dragged, and several very uncomfortable. The horses had no mouths; they wouldn’t answer to bit, rein, or spur, and it was impossible to get one away from the rest.’ When the corps returned from its long trek nearly everybody was in rags, and very unlike the ‘typical trooper’ of ten months earlier, whose smart turn-out had been a source of pride to the corps. Clothing, however, ran short, and many men had difficulty in replacing their tattered garments by new of any kind.
Photo: Johnston & Hoffmann
H.P. BROWN, a Typical Trooper
However, this detachment, under Captain Beresford, having cleared up its camp, marched out a day after the corps headquarters had gone and bivouacked that night ten or twelve miles east of Pretoria, near the pass known as Donker Hoek. Colonel Lumsden, having remained behind to see them off, went on a stage or two by train, hoping that they would overtake the leading company before it joined General French. The two detachments were, in fact, though they did not know it, within cannon sound of each other on September 5, when Mahon had turned back from Belfast to help the Canadians at Pan station; but, after that, every march took them further apart, the Colonel pushing on with what remained to him of A Company as part of Mahon’s brigade, while Captain Beresford’s hundred could make but slow progress on their leg-weary, spiritless horses. The latter troops, on arrival at Belfast, were inspected by Lord Roberts, who rode through their lines but made no speech to them. General Hutton, who was with the Headquarters Staff, cast longing eyes on Lumsden’s Horse, looked them over, and told Captain Clifford that he meant to take them on with him. Against such wholesale appropriation, however, Captain Beresford protested, saying that the men wanted to join their own corps and the horses were not fit yet. After appeal to Lord Roberts, Captain Beresford got his way. While at Belfast the detachment had unpleasant experience of winter temperature at an altitude of more than 6,500 feet above sea level. They tried to supply artificial fuel to the system by additional rations, but were not very successful, as the resources of Belfast at that time were low indeed, and certain restrictions had to be placed on traffic with the Dutch inhabitants, one of whom sold bread from the eating of which twelve or fourteen men of an Infantry regiment had been poisoned. So sentries were posted to warn all soldiers against buying provisions. To keep out the icy wind some men built themselves little huts of corrugated iron, in the construction of which we learn that Kingchurch and Cobb and the brothers Allardice distinguished themselves among one section of B Company. Captain Beresford came to have a look at them, and in notes of that time is the appreciative entry: ‘He is a very pleasant man and always polite to every one of us. He said our tin house was much better than the officers’ tents. He told us also that Lord Roberts had expressed himself very much pleased with the appearance of the men and horses.’ At Belfast also Lumsden’s Horse were visited by their former comrade Chartres—once a corporal in the corps, ‘who looked very smart as an Army doctor.’ Their last day at Belfast was devoted to the mild excitement of watching races, in one of which Captain Clifford came in about sixth on ‘The Mate,’ and a note is made of the fact that the Duke of Westminster, who won the long-distance steeplechase, ‘rode like a workman.’ On the whole, this brief stay at Belfast was more pleasant than first impressions of it promised, except for nightly excursions after loose Argentines, one of which drew his picket peg so persistently and got away on the open veldt so often that Robertson dubbed him Ulysses because he was such a wanderer! The next day (November 11) Captain Beresford’s detachment struck its camp on that breezy high veldt and marched across the battlefield of Bergendal on its way to Dalmanutha and Machadodorp as advance guard of General Cunningham’s brigade. No sooner had it got into camp once more than B Company was selected to furnish an escort the next morning for Lord Kitchener. The non-commissioned officer who was to be in command had no other uniform than the weather-stained and saddle-worn suit that had done service throughout most of the campaign. Luckily, however, one of the Hussars offered to sell sundry things. He was a Reservist, and knew his way about a military camp. From him a complete outfit was obtained, and the purchaser then discovered, much to his amusement, that he had been dealing with one who was a pushing commercial traveller in private life. So the non-commissioned officer was able to turn out a credit to the escort. But some mistake had been made about the rendezvous, which, however, the escort found at last by the lucky accident of meeting Major J.K. Watson, Lord Kitchener’s A.D.C. By that time the General had gone on. ‘So had to follow at a tremendous pace, galloped up every steep hill and down the other side over terrible ground, a mass of stones and such clouds of dust that you could not see the ground or whither you were going. Then caught up Lord Kitchener, who was riding with General Hamilton towards a big camp on the top of a hill, where they told us General Smith-Dorrien was in command. Very soon started back again. This time Lord Kitchener by himself, and a nice pace he led us, up hill and down, in clouds of dust. Got back before 1, having started at 10 and covered twelve miles altogether.’ During a month at Machadodorp, outpost duty and patrols towards Lydenburg or Helvetia, where Boers were often seen but never showed fight except by sniping at long range, formed the ordinary routine. This, however, was varied by football matches, for which Lumsden’s Horse furnished a strong team with Hickley in goal, Kirwan and Winder as backs, Courtenay, Brown, and G. Lawrie halves, Robertson, Luard, Holme, Tancred, and Lloyd-Jones forwards. Unfortunately, Robertson injured his knee in one of these matches and had to go into hospital. It was at Machadodorp that Sergeant Stephens, of the Indian Commissariat, who was attached to the Transport Staff of Lumsden’s Horse, distinguished himself by several solitary expeditions into the unexplored country round about. From one of these he came back with a pom-pom carriage which he had found at a farm and several ‘poor orphans,’ as he described pigs whose owners had deserted them. Once, however, he got caught himself, as narrated in Captain Taylor’s private collection of reminiscences:
SERGEANT STEPHENS
We had an Indian Transport sergeant lent to us, and a very good useful man he was; but he always had a desire to kill a Boer with his own hand and to be able to swear to it. One day when he was out getting supplies he saw an armed Boer riding over an adjacent ridge, so he left his carts and cantered away to cut him off. On nearing the ridge he slipped off his horse and proceeded on foot. Topping the ridge, he saw the Boer coming towards him and had him dead practically. Suddenly something touched him. Looking up, he saw three rifle muzzles, and he was a prisoner with a party of Boers. They took his rifle and horse and told him to come along with them. He walked between them for a bit, and, being a very amusing Irishman, proceeded to explain that in his opinion it wasn’t entertaining him like a guest to make him tramp while they rode. They treated the subject at first as a joke, but he was so persistent that they at last grew angry, and threatened to shoot him if he didn’t be quiet. On this point also he was found to be so argumentative that at last in despair they told him to make himself scarce, which he did with alacrity, arriving in camp by evening none the worse for his adventure, and quite pleased, as he had only suffered to the extent of a walk, a Government rifle, and a comparatively useless pony.