Chapter V: Mafeking (2)

Accordingly the "Salisbury to Bulawayo" resources were utilised as has been described, and two guns left Marandellas on the 30th of April, followed on May the 1st and 2nd by others, which were carried a distance of over 300 miles to Bulawayo by the 6th. From Bulawayo they were forwarded to Ootsi, where the rail was found to be destroyed, and consequently the remaining sixty miles to Safeteli were accomplished by a forced march. Colonel Plumer was joined by the Colonials on the 14th, and at once proceeded to meet Colonel Mahon at Jan Massibi's. A more ingenious synchronal achievement can scarcely be imagined.

Photo by Bassano, London]

The meeting of Colonel Mahon and Colonel Plumer was most cordial, and many old chums and acquaintances forgathered and cheerily exchanged reminiscences over their morning coffee. Here, in this remote corner of South Africa, near the brown thatched cottages of Jan Massibi's staadt, was gathered around in the sunlight a stalwart company of picked men whose equal could scarcely be discovered in any part of the world. Men of breeding and distinction; men in the prime of life, brawny and tough and smart; men intellectual, courageous to daredevilry, and withal full of resource. Here, on the Kimberley side, were warriors old and tried--Colonel King, who had been General Hunter's aide-de-camp in Ladysmith; Colonel Peakman, the hero of many Kimberley fights; Major Karri Davies and dashing Colonel Edwards; popular Colonel Rhodes the pioneer; and the ever-jovial Dr. Davies of the Light Horse. There were Prince Alexander of Teck, a youthful veteran by now; Major the Hon. Maurice Gifford, a soldier to the finger-nails; Captain Bell-Smythe, the energetic brigade-major; and many more, all chivalrous and hardy men of mark.

On the Rhodesian side were other grand specimens of British manhood. There was first the colonel--bronzed, dark-eyed, meditative--a man who without display had skirmished his way along the border-side from Tuli downwards, keeping the Boers in eternal suspense and so perpetually employed that they were unable to gain breathing time to concentrate their energies on Mafeking. Next came Colonel White, one of the bulwarks of Rhodesia; an adventurous spirit of the first order, an unerring shot, and, like most of his comrades, a chip of the old British block that furnished the material of the Light Brigade. There were Colonel Spreckley, a seasoned and notable fighter, alas! engaging in almost his last exploit, and Colonel Bodle of the British South Africa Police, a tower of strength, with vast experience of the western frontier of the Transvaal, and the necessary "slimness"--cultivated in a practical school--without which the handling of live eels like the Boers was impossible. There were Major Bird, another gallant and indefatigable officer; Lieutenant Harland, bright, blue-eyed, and buoyant, a typical British soldier; and Lieutenant Smitheman, valiant as Mettus Curtius and acute as a weazel--the first officer who had been successful in worming himself into Mafeking and out again!

Colonel Mahon's force had been travelling at the rate of twenty-two miles a day over sandy tracks and waterless deserts, and skirmishing by the way. They were, by now, very sun-baked and weary, but jovial beyond measure. In the evening camp-fires were lighted and goodly fare roasted, the flesh of captured oxen coming in handy to appease the appetite of the voracious travellers. It was a grand night of rest and plenty and cheeriness at the thought of work accomplished, and of plans which promised to end in triumph over the enemy. A spirit of _camaraderie_ prevailed. All alike were tingling with the glow of ambition which hatches heroes. It was an unique company--an inter-British-national throng, and vastly interesting in its heterogeneous characteristics. The Bushmen were perhaps the most curious and refreshing type of the Imperial Brotherhood. Every one with an appreciation for the genuine was swift to pronounce them delightful fellows, sound in wind and limb, full of go, spirited and keen for work of any kind that came to hand. In addition to this they were friendly and hospitable, would share their last chunk of "bully" with any one who was suffering from a vacuum, and had the "nous" to forage for themselves and find their way about in the veldt in a manner that excited as much admiration as surprise. They could ride too. They sat a buckjumper as a child sits a swing, and seemed to be horsemasters as it were by instinct. Full to overflowing with loyalty, they talked of home and Queen as though they had been born on the steps of Buckingham Palace. They were democratic withal. Their loyalty was to the superb, the estimable, and the Queen to them was the sample of the ideal womanhood, holding them enslaved by the power that is the firmest of all powers--the hair-line of respect.

To return to our "moutons" and to the sheep-pen in the heart of the veldt. At last dawned the memorable 16th--the ever-to-be-remembered morning when Mafeking, like a little white clothes-drying yard, came to be seen in the distance. All along the north bank of the Molopo for nine miles had marched the two columns, Colonel Plumer's Brigade leading, followed by Colonel Edwards and the Second Brigade, till at last, in the far grey plain, the little hamlet that had been the subject of so much persecution and so much British anxiety, came in sight.

Then all were prepared for the worst or for the best. They lunched frugally, cooled themselves with draughts from the clear river, and then ... then the enemy made his last, his expiring effort. He began to blaze with his rifles on the extreme left, and continued so to blaze till volley followed volley. Off went the Light Horse buoyant and brisk towards the north, followed by Colonel King and his redoubtable "Kimburlians," who started to frustrate any attempt at a rear attack. But this attempt not being made he joined forces with the Light Horse, with whom were M Battery and the pom-poms.

Meanwhile the Boers in front began to ply their guns "for all they were worth," shifting their pieces so as to enfilade the right of the British, thinking on that flank to make a more favourable impression. But on both fronts some Dutchmen were collected, and those on the left were engaged by the Light Horse and a section of M Battery, while on the right Colonel Plumer's Maxim-Nordenfeldt with the Battery of the Canadians did excellent execution. Two squadrons of Rhodesians advanced from the south across the river, to watch Boer reinforcements which hovered in the distance.

The Boers now made an effort to attack the convoy, which had been diverted to the left; but here the Dutchmen had the astute Colonel Peakman to deal with. This officer promptly set his guns to work, and pounded them with such precision and warmth that they were glad enough to fall back on their main body. Then the Canadians assailed them, and later Captain Montmorency with his Maxim-Nordenfeldt silenced the big Boer gun. So effective was the action of the artillery that about 3 P.M. the Boers were beginning to show signs of removal. Meanwhile the Light Horse and the Kimberley troops were pushing boldly on, and by four o'clock the besiegers were on the run, their scurrying silhouettes dotting for a moment or two the skyline and then vanishing into space!

On the right fighting still lingered on, the enemy trying hard to hold their ground, the Canadians trying equally hard to dislodge them from a position before Mafeking known as the White House. There was some tough work here, and presently M Battery from 3600 yards north of the house came to the assistance of the Canadians. Finally the Fusiliers and the Queenslanders with fixed bayonets, and a rush and roar, assailed the enemy's last position, and the door to Mafeking was opened! Off scrambled the remnant of the Boer hordes, leaving behind them ammunition and many other things grateful to the hearts of the conquerors.

For the first time the enemy found themselves outmatched in the way of guns as in the way of wits. Gloating, they had been circling round Mafeking, waiting with confidence for an exhausted force. They found instead a force that had marched warily, and reserved itself, and came with full rush upon them; a force that had been concentrating its energies to give them as much fighting as they cared for. The whole route was now purged of Boers, and when at dusk the column outspanned it was but for a brief hour or two. Without warning, Colonel Mahon inspanned again, determining to take advantage of the moonlight and the clear road; in a very short time he was wending his way towards the great destination. At four o'clock on the morning of the 17th his mission was accomplished!

The losses were many, for the fighting, during the short time it lasted, was fierce and sustained; and the Boer force numbered some 2000, while the British columns amounted to about 1500. There were over sixty killed and wounded:--

Lieutenant Edwin Harland, Hampshire Regiment--commanding C
Squadron Rhodesian Regiment, was killed. The following were
wounded: 2nd Royal West Surrey Regiment--Major W. D. Bird,
severe. British South Africa Police--Lieutenant Richard Sherman
Godley, slight. Rhodesian Regiment--Lieutenant John Alexander
Forbes, slight. Royal Horse Artillery--Lieutenant N. M. Gray,
severe. Kimberley Mounted Corps--Captain C. P. Fisher, slight.
Imperial Light Horse--Lieutenant Hew Campbell Ross, slight.

Gallant young Harland was generally regretted. He had taken the place of Captain Maclaren when that officer was wounded in the attempt to rescue Mafeking on the 31st, and had displayed such first-rate talents, both as soldier and scout, that he had earned for himself the title of "Baden-Powell the Second."

The following table describes the forces engaged in the Relief:--

MAFEKING.--Protectorate Regiment (800), Cape Mounted Police,
British South Africa Company's Mounted Police, Bechuanaland
Rifles--1500 men. COLONEL PLUMER'S FORCE.--Rhodesia Regiment,
Southern Rhodesia Volunteers, Bechuanaland Border Police, A
Detachment of Canadian Artillery. COLONEL MAHON'S FLYING
COLUMN.--100 men from Barton's Frontier Brigade, 200
Queenslanders (Bushmen). KIMBERLEY MOUNTED CORPS.--Diamond
Fields Horse, Kimberley Light Horse, Cape Police, Imperial
Light Horse, Diamond Fields Artillery, M Battery Royal Horse
Artillery--1200 men.

ON THE WESTERN FRONTIER--THE INVASION OF THE TRANSVAAL _VIA_ CHRISTIANA.

At the same time, on the Western Frontier, affairs were progressing in accord with Lord Roberts's strategical programme. Sir Charles Warren had arrived to take up his new post as military governor of Griqualand West, and General Hunter was engaged in a species of overture to cover the advance of the Flying Column which had started on the 5th. Without opposition he effected the passage of the Vaal River at Windsorton. There was great satisfaction to feel that British shells were at last exploding in Transvaal territory, and that the voice of the new gun, "Bobs," was spreading devastation far and wide. Three Boer laagers were dispersed, and on the 4th of May the new weapon caused considerable commotion within the Republican border. Ambulances were seen performing their melancholy duty for some time after the morning shelling had ceased. On the 5th Barton's Brigade encountered 2000 and more of the enemy some two miles north of Rooidam. The Dutchmen held a hilly and jungly position extending over four miles, but from their beloved kopjes they were routed time after time, and with considerable loss, by the magnificent dash of the troops, who carried one ridge after another with splendid energy and daring. The Yeomanry under Colonel Meyrick especially distinguished themselves, their courage and coolness under fire being remarkable. They not only engaged the enemy at very close quarters, but chased them for miles. General Hunter, having settled the Dutchmen, after a contest of some eight hours' duration, joined hands with the British force under General Paget at Warrenton.

Fourteen Streams was now occupied without opposition, the enemy having found the attentions of the artillery in the direction of the left bank of the Vaal far too pressing for his liking. At sight of the approach of the 6th and half the 5th Brigades of infantry the Boers scampered, leaving behind them in the trenches saddles, ammunition, and wardrobes. A British camp was formed at Fourteen Streams--C Company of the Munster Fusiliers, under Lieutenant Caning, having been the first to cross the river during the night. These were followed at dawn by the rest of the troops. The river was low, and the Engineers set to work to construct a pontoon bridge for heavy traffic, and to mend the old railway bridge and make it fit for immediate use.

The following casualties took place during the advance: Captain Lovett, 1st Royal Welsh Fusiliers, died from wounds, and Captain MacMahon, 2nd Royal Fusiliers, was wounded.

The ten days' march to Vryburg, which was reached on the 24th of May, was comparatively uneventful, but the Yeomanry did excellent work, as the following report of a Glasgow yeoman serves to show:--"We were most of the time on half-rations, and every morning were up before 2 A.M.... The first day we left the camp at Warrenton we crossed the Vaal River, where the railway bridge was blown up. They have now got a temporary one made, which they completed two days after we left.... On the other side we joined the Union Brigade; Colonel Hart (Barton), I think, is commander of it. We had two batteries of artillery with us, and some other brigade joined us next day, and we were supposed to be about 12,000 strong under General Sir A. Hunter. They do not tell you whether you are going to fight or on a day's march, the regulars say; but we all expected one the day after we left, as we were advised to make any personal arrangements we had to make. Next day we moved off about 6.30. Nineteenth and 20th Companies were the scouts, and 17th and 18th the support. It is rather exciting the first day you are out scouting, with ninety cartridges in your bandolier and ten in your magazine, expecting to come in contact with the Boers every minute. Some of their patrols were seen two days before we left. On Wednesday morning we came in sight of Christiana, which we took in great style. We galloped half round it at half a mile distance in extended order, the Major and Captain C---- galloping up to houses, putting the butts of their rifles through the windows, and looking to see if the houses were occupied. There were very few people there; 2000 Boers had left the day before. However, we came across two or three, who were disarmed, and all the arms that were got in the town were broken up. We commandeered a lot of cattle, sheep, and horses, left a company of infantry in charge of the town, left again that night, and did about other six miles' march towards Toungs. We saw about a hundred Boers two days later, but they did not let us get near them. We are the only cavalry attached to the column, so that we have to do all the scouting, front and rear guards. It is quite a sight to see a column on the march. First scouts are out in front advancing in line, about a hundred yards apart, then the supports, next a skirmishing line of infantry, then two or three companies of them. After this long lines of transports, the artillery, droves of cattle and sheep, then more infantry, and behind the rearguard. I have only washed once since I left Warrenton, now twelve days ago, and then I had no soap, and had to dry my face with my handkerchief. We had to leave all our stuff behind us so as to march as light as possible. These last two days we have been getting bread, as they have now got the railway put right up this length. We were only getting two hard biscuits per day, coffee in the morning and tea at night, pretty often without any sugar, and sometimes we couldn't manage to get sticks to make a fire. The beer is 4s. per bottle. The Boers have commandeered everything nearly, and the folks here were glad to see us. The enemy cleared out of here fourteen days ago."

* * * * *

Space does not admit of a detailed account of this excellent movement, which was originated in support of the Mafeking Relief Column, and had for a double object the protection of Mahon's force and the invasion of the Transvaal from the west.

To appreciate the turn of wheel within wheel of Lord Roberts's strategic machinery it is necessary to give a glance at the map of the Transvaal. It will then be seen that synchronously with the occupation of Christiana by General Sir Archibald Hunter on the 16th and the Relief of Mafeking by Colonels Mahon and Plumer, we find Lord Methuen moving towards Hoopstad, Lord Roberts holding Kroonstad, General Ian Hamilton pushing up towards Lindley and Heilbron, and farther east Generals Clery and Dundonald advancing towards Ingogo and Laing's Nek respectively!

THE RELIEF.

To return to Mafeking. On the day that Colonel Mahon and Colonel Plumer joined hands near Jan Massibi's thatched village, news leaked in that the long-talked-of relief was verily at hand. They had heard this kind of thing before, and their despair lest the Boers should attack the town to obtain the release of Eloff was scarcely allayed. However, on the 16th, dust was espied in the distance, and there was a rush to the roofs of the houses to ascertain whether that dust was hostile or friendly. It was afterwards discovered that it was the sign of the retiring enemy, and eventually towards dusk it was announced that the Relief Column was really in sight. The longing eyes of Mafeking looked out, and for the first time saw their persecutors in full retreat, saw them begin to run, and then, later, scudding for their lives, while their gratified ears, so tuned to the sound of the vicious artillery of the foe, now heard the cheery notes of the Canadian artillery, the pom-poms, and other pieces, clearing the barricades that for so long had shut out the free air of day. In the late afternoon Major Karri Davies, who after the routing of the Federals had never drawn rein till he reached Mafeking, accompanied by some eight of the Imperial Light Horse, the Light Horse that had been first in Ladysmith, marched into the town. Surprise was intense! Then surprise thawed into warmth, and then warmth grew to fever-heat. Rapture eventually reached boiling-point, and the nine men, gaunt, worn, haggard with fatigue, were deafened with cheers, and had not strength enough to do the handshaking.

Meanwhile, as we know, Colonel Mahon had outspanned. He did this only to inspan again, and proceed by moonlight to the town. He had followed the rule of South African strategy,--said he was going to do one thing and did the other,--thus outwitting the Boers, who having retired wearily, were gathering themselves up to lunge at him, and intercept his entry so soon as the dawn should break. But by four in the morning of the 17th, while the chill dramatic moonbeams were yet bathing the scene with strange mystery, Colonel Mahon and his merry men--they were merrier than merry at the prospect of their welcome--led by Major Baden-Powell, the brother of the hero of the defence, approached the town. The news of the arrival spread like wildfire. Immediately all was bustle, and bliss, and gratulation. Men, women, and children beamed. Some wept; some danced. The natives indulged in wild sounds, and showed rows of dazzling teeth. Exuberance took amazing forms; stranger wrung the hand of stranger, friends grasped and re-grasped: if they had been foreigners they would have embraced! The large hearts of the heroes within and the large hearts of the heroes from without were throbbing in unison, bursting with satisfaction in the accomplishment of great work in the cause of their country and of their fellow-men. The ragged, battered, grimy, magnificent throng was almost at a loss to express itself. Words lagged, and even those forthcoming were blurred by a foggy haze in the throat, while a strange mistiness crept over eyes that for seven months had been bright with the fire of determination. But withal, there was no emasculating abandonment to rapture of the hour. There was no unbuckling of armour. At nine the serious work of war began again. The united forces went out on a reconnaissance in the direction of MacMullin's farm, where the chief Dutch laager was fixed, and then all the artillery, even to the grandfatherly "Lord Nelson," performed in concert in honour of the great occasion. Cascades of shrapnel and little white balls of smoke danced and played over the laager, and bombs burst with violent detonations, and then, like magic, wreaths of dust began to rise and increase, and cloud the distance. It was the Dutchmen scampering for dear life across the veldt, their waggons and guns--all save one--rumbling into space. This one was abandoned in the hurried flight, the Boers having taken the precaution to destroy the breech, but it was nevertheless captured as a precious souvenir of times more pleasant in reminiscence than in being. The forts were visited in turn, and at Game-Tree--that dreadful thorn in the side of the garrison--the Union Jack went up to a chorus of cheers. Finally, the place was devoured by fire, to the satisfaction of those who had so long regarded it with apprehension and hate. At MacMullin's farm were found the Boer wounded, deserted of their kind, who had scuttled with such alacrity that even their still smoking breakfasts had been foregone. Lieutenant Currie and his smart Cape Boys, and Major Baillie (4th Hussars), came on one or two stragglers in the Boer laager, who wisely surrendered. Snyman's official correspondence was discovered, and from this much valuable information was gleaned. From one bundle of papers the garrison learned the pleasing intelligence that Kroonstadt had fallen; from another, that Kruger was not best pleased with the old Commandant--indeed, the President without palaver had inquired by telegram whether his failure of the previous Saturday had been due to drink! The rescue of Captain Maclaren (13th Hussars) from the clutches of the enemy caused great satisfaction, and he was borne off in triumph to the hospital, where he was comfortably located. He was suffering still from the wounds sustained during the fight on the 31st, one of which had been inflicted after he was helpless by a Dutchman, who deliberately fired on him at a distance of twenty yards, and subsequently robbed him of watch and money!

By noon the reconnaissance was at an end,--the place was found to be clear of the horrible girdle that for seven months had encompassed it,--and then the Market Square became a scene of unrestrained enthusiasm. The Town Guard got itself into position ready to do honour to the warriors who had come through fire and blood to release their fellow-countrymen, while every nook and corner of the broken hamlet was filled with excited, cheering folks--folks whose vocal cords seemed scarcely to have suffered from scant fare and unceasing vigils, and who yelled as though by sheer force of lung power they meant to swell their song of jubilation to the four corners of the earth!

Drawing by H. M. Paget, from materials supplied by Major F. D. Baillie, Special Correspondent of the _Morning Post_.]

Perhaps the march past of the united relief columns was the most unique and imposing ceremony ever performed within the confines of such a "chicken-run." Here, in this tiny compass, the whole empire veritably met together--South Africans, Australians, Canadians, English, Scots, and Irishmen, Indians, Cape Boys--all following one another, unit after unit, like some quaint scenic procession of the nations. There were the bronzed colonels--Baden-Powell, and Mahon, and Plumer, now household names throughout the world--accompanied by their staffs, the _élite_ of the embattled array. There were the glorious 12-pounders--M Battery of the Royal Horse Artillery, whose every limber looked dear to the eyes that long had been strained in eagerness for their coming--and their guardians, the helmeted band of staunch and sturdy gunners, who carried the voice of Empire far and wide--there were the plumed and mettlesome Colonials, very fighting-cocks at the sniff of war--there was the lion rampant in the form of the Union Brigade (the picked portions of it from the Royal Fusiliers, Royal Scots, Royal Welsh Fusiliers, and Royal Irish Fusiliers), a right regal company, the very sight of which in common times would have caused the heart of Britons to throb, and which now sent the cup of patriotic rapture brimming over. Cheers or tears? Shouts or sobs? It was a "toss"-up which would supersede the other, and amid the stupendous _fracas_ even the dauntless hero of this unparalleled, soul-stirring outburst turned aside that none should view the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.

The painter, when he depicted Agamemnon in the hour of sublime sacrifice, drew a veil over the features of the chief. He judged the supreme moment of human exultation too sanctified for common gaze. Even so must we draw the veil of silence over this supreme moment in the life of the saviour of Mafeking ... the soundless epic is the more sonorous.

The parade over, addresses were presented and the usual formalities gone through. The gratitude of the town for the relief--the appreciation of the magnificent work done by Colonel Baden-Powell, and the stupendous energy of the succouring forces, were all dilated on and thanks returned. A hailstorm of cheers then broke out--cheers for Queen and country, for Baden-Powell, Mahon, Plumer, Colonel Rhodes, Major Karri Davies; in fact, every one cheered every one else, for all were too deserving, too heroic, to overlook the deserts and heroism of those who had imperilled their lives over and over again to maintain the prestige of their native land. So passed the day, and at night chums and comrades gathered together and jested and laughed, and told yarns of skirmish and sortie and surprise, till they sank to sleep in their greatcoats and blankets, fairly worn out with their eleven days and nights of boot and saddle.

On the 19th, the garrison assembled for a last, a solemn function. A great thanksgiving and memorial service was held at the cemetery, and all bade a last farewell to those who had shared with them the tribulations of the siege without reaping the harvest of honour their hands had sown.

At the close of the impressive ceremony three volleys were fired over the noble dead who had given their lives to attain the great end, and then an effort was made to sing the National Anthem, but the notes were quavering with the emotion which these hitherto fearless men now feared might unman them.

Finally Colonel Baden-Powell--a little abruptly to cover the touching nature of his farewell--addressed the garrison:--

"We have been a happy family during the siege. The time has now
come for breaking up. When we were first invested I said to
you, 'Sit tight and shoot straight.' The garrison has sat tight
and shot straight, with the present glorious result. Many nice
things have been said about me at home, but it is an easy thing
to be the figurehead of a ship. The garrison has been the
rigging and sails of the good ship Mafeking, and has brought
her safely through her stormy cruise."

He then thanked the ladies, beginning with the matron of the hospital, whose pluck and devotion could not be sufficiently extolled. Turning to the Protectorate Regiment, he said:--

"To you I need say nothing. Your roll of dead and wounded tells
its own tale."

Shaking hands with Colonel Hore he thanked him for the assistance he had given him, and to the artillery, under Major Panzera and Lieutenant Daniel, he said:--

"You were armed with obsolete weapons, but you made up for
these by your cool shooting and the way you stuck to your
guns."

The colonel afterwards turned to the British South Africa Police:--

"I need not repeat to you men the story of the little red fort
on the hill, which Cronje could not take."

And to the Cape Police, under Captain Marsh, he addressed himself as follows:--

"You have not been given an opportunity of doing anything
dramatic, but throughout the siege you have held one of the
nastiest places in the town, where the enemy were expected at
any moment, and where you were always under fire."

The colonel next made some graceful remarks to the Town Guard. He compared them to a walnut in a shell; saying that people thought that they had but to break the shell to get at the kernel. But the enemy had learnt better. They had got through the husk and found they could get no hold on the kernel. In conclusion, he announced that any civilians who wished to return to their ordinary occupations immediately might do so. Those who had none to return to, whose billets had been lost or businesses ruined, would be permitted in the meantime to draw trench allowances and to remain on duty in the inner defences.

Major Goold Adams was then cordially thanked for all the excellent work he had done as Town Commandant, after which the Railway Division (under Captain Moore) and Lieutenant Layton (who had received a commission for his splendid services) were addressed:--

"I cannot thank you enough for what you have done. You have
transformed yourselves from railway-men to soldiers. Your work
is not yet done, because it will be your business to reopen
communication and get in supplies."

To the Bechuanaland Rifles Colonel Baden-Powell exclaimed:--

"Men, you have turned out trumps. With volunteers one knows
that they have been ably drilled, but there is no telling how
they will fight. I have been able to use you exactly as Regular
troops, and I have been specially pleased with your straight
shooting. The other day, when the enemy occupied the
Protectorate Fort, they admitted that they were forced to
surrender by your straight shooting, under which they did not
dare to show a hand above the parapet."

The chief delighted the juvenile Cadet Corps by giving them their meed of praise for their conduct as soldiers, concluding with, "I hope you will continue in the profession, and will do as well in after life."

He then turned to the outsiders, the Northern Relief Force under Colonel Plumer, which had borne the brunt of the seven months' fighting, and expressed his regret that they had been too weak to relieve the town "off their own bat." But he eulogised the splendid work done in bad country and climate. The Southern Force under Colonel Mahon were congratulated on having made a march which would live in history. Their chief was complimented on the magnificent body of men he commanded, while the Imperial Light Horse, associated as it was with memories of Ladysmith, Colonel Baden-Powell declared he was especially pleased to see, as these would be able, in consequence of their own experience, to sympathise with the people in Mafeking.

So the amazing defence of Mafeking was over! For seven months the gallant little town had withstood every ingenious device of the Boers, and in the end it had come off victorious. The first shot was fired on the 16th of October, and from that day the rumble of bombardment had been the accompaniment of almost every hour between the rising and setting of the sun. And now all was serene and still, and only the battered walls of the once neat little hamlet told the terrible, the glorious tale of British doggedness and British pluck.

Lord Roberts Lord Kitchener

LORD ROBERTS AND HIS ARMY CROSSING THE VAAL RIVER

Drawing by R. M. Paxton, from a Sketch by W. B. Wollen, R.I.]

HOW THE NEWS WAS RECEIVED BY THE BRITISH EMPIRE.

For some time the ears of London had been pricked up in anxious expectation. Lord Roberts had promised to relieve Mafeking by the 18th of May, and the Field-Marshal was known to be punctuality personified. All the town remained in a state of suppressed excitement, little flags were selling like wildfire, and big flags were being got into readiness for the great, the longed-for word. Early in the morning of the 17th the papers were anxiously perused, and man asked man if any news had leaked out. The 18th arrived. Nothing was known. The War Office maintained its adamantine calm. The day grew middle-aged, almost old--then, as the shutters were about to go up (twenty minutes past nine was the exact hour), one telegram of Reuter's fired the fuse, and London, followed presently by the whole British Empire, was ablaze with excitement. The flame, like most flames, broke out almost unnoticed. Some one on a cycle--some one in a cab, heard the glorious three words, and sped breathless to carry the contagion of his rapture far and wide. Street after street began to smoulder--to glow; and, presto! the town was one vast conflagration! Such a furnace of patriotism had never been seen within the confines of the staid metropolis. By ten o'clock the populace of one consent had run wild into the streets--the houses were too cramped to hold them--they ran wild, roaring and yelling and shouting and singing, passing into the heart of the Capital in dense armies--passing? nay!--for soon none could pass, but had merely to be propelled good-humouredly by the compact mass that surged apparently to no destination whatever. Whence came the clamouring hosts it was impossible to say--they seemed to rise from the earth, so rapidly, so mysteriously, did their numbers increase. Liberty, equality, fraternity, was the motto of this memorable night. All ages, and ranks, and sexes were linked together in the bonds of sympathetic patriotism--countess or coster, duke or drayman, it was all one--an identical beam of triumph imparted a relationship to every British face. Minutes had scarcely grown into hours before the Union Jack fluttered from every window, from every cart and 'bus, from every hand, and the roar of human joy was as the roar of the ocean in a tempest. At the theatres, as at the railway stations, the crowds heard and wondered only for a moment, for the electrical news got into their midst, and they on the instant took up the cry and the cheer, and repeated them with all their might. Indeed, theatrical performances were suspended while the joyous audiences sang and re-sang "Rule, Britannia" and "God Save the Queen," and then, unsatisfied, tore into the open to let off steam as it were, and view a sight which never before has been witnessed, and probably never again will be visible in the precincts of London Town. The Mansion House, where the display of the message had caused a huge concourse to assemble, was next besieged, and the old walls literally shook with the mighty roar of the multitude. The "National Anthem" swelled out thunderously with volume that was almost awe-striking as the combined voice of a Handel Festival, and shouts for the Lord Mayor grew and grew, and became deafening as that honoured citizen and splendid patriot showed himself.

He then delivered the following speech: "I wish the music of your cheers could reach Mafeking. For seven long weary months a handful of men has been besieged by a horde. We never doubted what the end would be. British pluck and valour when used in a right cause must triumph. The heart of every one of you vibrates with intense loyalty and enthusiasm, I know, and the conscience of every one of you assures you that we have fought in a righteous and just cause." The crowd, incapable of silence for very long, broke into "Rule, Britannia," and when this outburst of emotion was expended, the Lord Mayor continued: "We have fought for our most glorious traditions of equality and freedom, not for ourselves alone, but for the men of all those nations who have settled in South Africa and who were under the protection of the British flag." Three cheers for Colonel Baden-Powell were then called for, and three for Lord Roberts, and these having been heartily given, he said: "The people of Bloemfontein and Mafeking are now singing 'God Save the Queen'; you can do it for yourselves." This they proceeded to do not once but twenty times through the livelong hours of the night. Meanwhile the following practical telegram was despatched by the Lord Mayor:--

"_To_ BADEN-POWELL, Mafeking, _via_ Cape Town.

"Citizens London relieved and rejoiced by good news just
received. Your gallant defence will long live in British
annals. Cable me what money wanted for needs of garrison and
inhabitants after long privations.

"ALFRED NEWTON, _Lord Mayor_."

At the same time a huge portrait of Colonel Baden-Powell was displayed in front of the Mansion House, and the strains of "God Save the Queen" and "Rule, Britannia" were now intermingled with the lively tune of "For he's a jolly good fellow." These combined choruses were echoed and re-echoed, and carried along like a gigantic stream of sound into the suburbs of London, into sleeping Kensington and remote Clapham, so that men and women turned in their beds--sat up, terrified at first, then realising the situation, gave up thought of rest, and listened with swelling hearts to the triumphant din. And so, on and on--through the night till morning broke!

Then, the whole face of London seemed transmogrified. National emblems--red, white, blue, yellow, green, stars and stripes--draping the houses and festooning the roads, gave the town the aspect of one huge bazaar. Balconies were decorated, awnings thrown out, and in some cases, to give a touch of realism, bathing towels[6] were hung from the verandahs. People passing by, and ignorant of the double meaning of the curious drapery, shrugged their shoulders, scoffed--then, awakened by a flash of illumination, looked again and broke into renewed cheers. Before the dwelling of the mother of the defender of Mafeking a vast crowd collected, wielding flags and laurels, and displaying in their midst the bust of the hero with a British lion crouching at his feet. Cheers rent the air, and increased in volume when the proud parent of this splendid Briton appeared on the balcony and acknowledged the demonstration. The glad tumult in front of this point of attraction continued throughout the day, people coming from far and wide here to vent their ecstasy of enthusiasm--some in shouts, many in tears.

By nightfall, the whole Empire was pouring forth its excitement in congratulatory telegrams, for, four minutes after the receipt of the intelligence in London the news had passed over the Atlantic cables and was in the New York office of the Associated Press, whence it was forwarded to the farthest limit of the North American Continent. Canada, New South Wales, Sydney, and all the other colonies whose bravest and best had contributed to the great doings in the Transvaal, were now aglow with bunting and illuminations. Church bells pealed, processions passed shouting and rejoicing, ships were dressed from truck to taffrail, and prayers and anthems of praise were got ready to be offered up on the following day at all churches.

Thus, for a brief space, was seen a vast concourse of millions of souls of differing opinions, customs, and creeds, diffused even to the remotest corners of the British-speaking world, yet closely united by a bond of fraternal sympathy in consequence of the triumph of British manhood in the most unique ordeal that the loyalty of any nation has been called upon to endure.

FOOTNOTES:

[5] See Vol. III. p. 39.

[6] The hero of Mafeking at Charterhouse was nicknamed "Bathing Towel."