Chapter I: The Immortal Handful1 (2)

The unlucky termination of the affair completed the eastern flanking movement of the Boers, who were now trickling over the country from Sanna's Post on the south to a point east of Jagersfontein road. They soon held the Free State east of the railway beyond Bethulie, and considerable numbers went south towards Smithfield and Rouxville, their determination, after their recent successes, being to harass the British force as much as possible. It was now becoming evident that all the present trouble was due to over-leniency, and it began to be urged that some measures must be adopted which would ensure for the conquerors of the enemy's country the respect that was due to them. The humanitarian attitude of Lord Roberts had produced an unlooked-for result. The Commander-in-Chief had attempted to administer justice for a seventeenth-century people on the ethics of those of the nineteenth, and the experiment had proved disastrous. The enemy, far from being impressed by the show of magnanimity, was laughing in his sleeve at his immunity from pains and penalties. Our troops were forced now to move in a country where nearly every man was a foe or a spy, and one who, moreover, thought meanly of us for the concessions which had been made. As an instance of contrast between our own and the Dutchman's mode of dealing with those considered as rebels, an instructive story was told. A Free State burgher at the outset of hostilities entered the Imperial service as a conductor of transport. It was a non-combatant's occupation, and one for which he was fitted, owing to his knowledge of the Kaffir and Dutch languages. This man was captured by the Boers, who, declaring him to be a rebel, instantly shot him dead. We, on the other hand, accepted an obsolete rifle, a flint-lock elephant gun belonging to the days of the Great Trek perhaps, as a peace-offering and then told the rebel to go away and turn over a new leaf. His new leaf resolved itself into unearthing Mausers and Martinis, and popping at us from the first convenient kopje--if not from the windows of his farm!

To this cause may be attributed the sudden return of so-called ill-luck, which seemed epidemic. April had brought with it an alarming list of losses at Sanna's Post, which was followed by a grievous total of killed, wounded, and missing--five companies lost to us--at Reddersburg. We had, moreover, disquieting days around Thabanchu, Ladybrand, and Rouxville, and were being forced gradually, and not always gracefully, to retreat. For instance, in the retirement from Rouxville, four companies of the Royal Irish, some Queenstown and Kaffrarian Rifles, had merely escaped by what in vulgar phrase we term "the skin of their teeth." It was merely owing to the smartness of General Brabant, who sent two squadrons of Border Horse from Aliwal North to the rescue, that the small force escaped being cut off. This officer's little band garrisoning Wepener was meanwhile beginning to test the Boer force in earnest.

THE ESCAPE OF PRISONERS FROM PRETORIA

At this time great excitement prevailed owing to the escape from Pretoria of Captain Haldane, D.S.O. (Gordon Highlanders), who was captured after the disaster to the armoured train at Chieveley; of Lieutenant Le Mesurier (Dublin Fusiliers), who was taken prisoner with Colonel Moeller's force after the battle of Glencoe; and of Sergeant Brockie, a Colonial volunteer. These officers had a more adventurous task than even that of Mr. Churchill, for since the war correspondent's escape the Boers had naturally taken additional precautions, and had mounted extra guard over their prisoners. The officers most ingeniously contrived to dig a trench underneath the floor of the prison, and here they hid themselves. For eighteen long days they remained cramped in this small underground hole, in the daily expectation that the other officers and their guards were about to be transferred to new quarters, when a chance of escape would be offered.

Captain Haldane gave exciting details of his adventures in _Blackwood's Magazine_; but, before dealing with them, it is interesting to consider the position of the vast congregation of British officers that had gradually been collected within the confines of the Model School. Curiously enough, after all the fighting, the sum total of prisoners of war on both sides was now nearly equal. By the 23rd of March the Boer prisoners in our hands were 5000, while the British prisoners in Pretoria numbered some 3466. Since that date, through various unlucky accidents, the Boers had captured some 1000 more of our troops, and thus early in April the enemy almost equalled us in the matter of capture!

The Model School stands in the centre of the town. It is commodious, though devoid of privacy (on the principle of a boys' dormitory) well ventilated, lighted with electricity, and roofed with corrugated iron. At the time of the escape there was a gymnasium, and also a scaling-ladder against the wall, which suggested infinite possibilities to such men as Captain Haldane, who had all the exciting histories of "Latude," "Jack Sheppard," and "Monte Christo" at his fingers' ends. There were rough screens to enclose some of the cubicles, and the walls in some cases were decorated with cuttings from the illustrated papers, or with humorous sketches made by talented amateurs. Two of these were especially admired, a chase after President Steyn personally conducted by Lord Roberts, and a caricature of President Kruger, which latter was highly appreciated even by the Boers when it came under their notice.

The special nook of the Rev. Adrian Hofmeyer, who had made himself into a general favourite, and was laconically declared to be a "regular brick," was the most decorative of all, being made gay with various scraps of colour and design to cheer the weary eye. By this time the reverend gentleman, having had a more trying experience of incarceration than most, had got to look upon the Model School in the light of residential chambers, and consoled others with the account of his own experiences. His story was not an enlivening one:--

"I was lodged in the common jail, Cronje's law adviser having
informed him it would not be legal to shoot me. Cronje
consequently thought the best thing to do would be another
illegality, namely, imprison a non-combatant and correspondent.
Mr. Cronje has ample time to-day in St. Helena to meditate upon
this and other illegal acts of his. I was locked up in a cell
eighteen feet by nine feet, and for the first few days was
allowed to have my meals at the hotel. Soon, however, this
liberty was taken away, for it proved too much for the
Christian charity of the Zeerust burghers to see a despised
prisoner of war marched up and down from the hotel to the jail
under police escort. Other restrictions were soon imposed also,
and after a little while I was locked up day and night, the
door of the unventilated cell being open only three times a day
for fifteen minutes at a time. No books nor papers were allowed
me, no visitors, and the few loyal friends who tried to supply
me with luxuries were cruelly forbidden to do so by the
authorities. I cannot help thinking to-day of the strange irony
of fate. The commanders who practised this cruelty upon me were
Cronje and Snyman. The one is to-day a prisoner of war, and
can, perhaps, put himself in my place. He is an old personal
acquaintance, too."

The worthy padre was afterwards removed, and gave a further description of his experiences.

"After eight weeks of such life I was taken to Pretoria, and
there quartered in the Staats Model School with the British
officers. Here everything was better, and I quickly recovered
my health and strength. The building was a magnificent one, and
the surroundings very pleasant, but our jailer, a Landdrost,
and our guards, the Zarps, never forgot to remind us of the
fact that we were prisoners. The food we got from Government
sufficed for one meal; the rest we had to buy, being charged
most exorbitant prices. When I left, the officers' mess
amounted to £1600 per month for 144 officers. On my arrival, I
was asked by the officers to conduct service for them every
Sunday, in addition to that held by an Anglican clergyman. For
two Sundays, therefore, we had two services a day, and then
Winston Churchill escaped, and the following extraordinary
letter was sent the officers by the Anglican clergyman:--

"'GENTLEMEN,--By the kind courtesy of the Government, I have
been permitted to hold services for you in connection with the
Church of England, which services I have felt it a privilege on
my part to conduct. After what has recently occurred--viz. the
escape of Mr. Churchill from confinement--I exceedingly regret
that, in consideration of my duty to the Government, I must
discontinue such regular ministrations, as I desire to maintain
the honour due to my position. Of course I shall always be glad
to minister to you in any emergency, with the special
permission of the authorities, who will, with their usual
kindness, duly inform me.--With my best wishes, I am,
gentlemen, yours sincerely, ----.'

"Out of charity, I do not publish the reverend gentleman's
name,[2] but I can add that 'the emergency' referred to never
presented itself. Since that time, I had the pleasure and
honour of conducting the services every Sunday, and they were
the pleasantest hours I spent in prison. Our singing was so
hearty and good, that many of the townsfolk strolled up of a
Sunday morning to hear us."

Drawing by S. Begg]

As may be imagined, all manner of devices were invented for the purpose of securing news, the only intelligence of outside events coming to the unhappy prisoners through the _Standard and Diggers' News_, which journal, of course, dwelt gloatingly on British disasters. But the authorities were suspicious. One day a harmonium was removed, owing to the treasonable practice of performing "God save the Queen"; on another, a cherished terrier was banished, as he was declared to be a smuggler, and charged with the crime of carrying notes in his tail! But at last, an ingenious ruse was successfully perpetrated. A man, accompanied by a dog, came to the railings and there engaged in a private dialogue, which savoured of the maniacal, till the eagerly listening officers discovered that there might be method in the strange man's madness. A sample of the scene was given by the correspondent of the _Standard_:--

"'Would you like a swim?' asked the master, and the dog, with a wag of his tail, answered 'Yes.' 'Ladysmith is all right,' continued the man, and the tail wagged assent. 'We will come again,' said the master, and the dog agreed. For a time the prisoners thought him mad, this man with the dog who talked in his beard, and mixed his dog talk with such names as 'Ladysmith,' 'Mafeking,' 'Cronje,' 'Roberts.' Then the truth dawned on them, and the 'Dog Man' became a hero, whose coming was watched with longing, and whose mutterings in his beard were 'as cool waters to the thirsty soul,' or as 'good news from a far country.' One day the 'Dog Man' was missing, and there was lamentation, until, looking towards the house opposite, the prisoners saw him standing well back in the passage, at the entrance to which two girls kept watch. The 'Dog Man' was waving his hat in eccentric fashion, and the waving was found to be legible to those who understand signalling. Next morning a tiny flag was substituted for the hat, and communication between the officers and the Director of Telegraphs was established by flag signal."

The prisoners endeavoured to keep up an air of jocosity, though, as one confessed, their tempers were "very short and inclined to be captious." Naturally their occupations were limited, and it was not unusual to see gallant commanders engaged in darning their socks, or washing their clothes under the pump. Their attire, too, was not of the choicest, some of them having been accommodated when sick with suits technically known as "slops," purchased for a low price in Johannesburg. Hence one officer disported himself in choice pea-green, while another figured in rich yellow. These prison suits were scarcely becoming, particularly as many of the smartest of the smart were growing beards, or, if not beards, the ungainly chin tuft or "Charley," which destroyed their martial aspect. Sometimes they engaged in games, bumble puppy and the like, and occasionally expanded to other sports. A letter from a sprightly member of the band to the _Eton College Chronicle_ described the humorous side of their daily life:--

"MODEL SCHOOL, PRETORIA.

"DEAR MR. EDITOR,--Whilst following the fortunes of old
Etonians in South Africa, perhaps it may have escaped your
notice that a small and unhappy band has already reached
Pretoria. Mr. Rawlins's House is represented by Captain Ricardo
(Royal Horse Guards), and H. A. Chandos-Pole-Gell (Coldstream
Guards); Mr. Carter's by Major Foster (Royal Artillery); the
late Mr. Dalton's, Mr. Ainger's, and Mr. Luxmore's respectively
by M. Tristram (12th Lancers), G. Smyth-Osbourne (Devonshire
Regiment), and G. L. Butler (Royal Artillery); and Mr.
Cornish's by G. R. Wake (Northumberland Fusiliers). The
histories of their separate captures would take up too much of
your valuable space. Some have been here but a short time, some
many weeks; and during their captivity their thoughts turned to
old Eton days, and the game of fives recommended itself to them
as a means of passing some of the many weary hours. There was
no "pepper-box," or "dead man's hole"; but a room, two of whose
walls mainly consisted of windows, with the aid of three
cupboards and a piece of chalk, was quickly converted into a
fives court. Entries for a Public Schools' tournament were
numerous, Eton sending three pairs. Tristram and Gell
unanimously elected themselves to represent Eton's first pair,
closely followed by Eton II., Ricardo and Osbourne, Eton III.
being Wake and Butler. The facts that Tristram had recently
been perforated with Mauser bullets, and Gell had spent
Christmas and the three preceding weeks in the various jails
between Modder River and Bloemfontein, were no doubt
responsible for their not carrying off the coveted trophy.
Alas! they were badly beaten in the first round by Marlborough.
Not so Eton II. and III., who carried the Light Blue
successfully into the second round, both having drawn byes.
This good fortune could not last, and they fell heavily at the
second venture, being beaten by Wellington and Rugby
respectively. The ultimate winners proved to be Wellington,
after a desperate encounter with Charterhouse.

"So much for our pleasures; our troubles are legion, but we
will not burden you with them. We daily expect to hear of the
E.C.R.V. sharing the hardships of the campaign, and covering
themselves with glory to the tune of

"FLOREAT ETONA.

"_P.S._--We all hope to be at Eton on the 4th of June.

"_Feb. 14, 1900._"

(Curiously enough, the 4th of June brought to a close the deadly period of durance vile. On that date the gallant crew spent their last night as prisoners!)

To return to Captain Haldane and his partners in adventure. Ever since Mr. Churchill's escape he had racked his brains to discover a means of escape, and had made multifarious plans, many of which were rejected as absolutely hopeless, while many others failed after efforts which testified to the perseverance and ingenuity of their inventors. It was no easy matter after Mr. Churchill's exploit to hit on a means of evading the wily and now alert Boer.

The guard were armed with rifles, revolvers, and whistles, and as these consisted of some thirty men, who furnished nine sentries in reliefs of four hours, there was little hope of escaping their vigilance. Fortunately the prisoners, such as had plain clothes in their possession, were permitted to wear them, otherwise the dream of freedom could scarcely have been indulged in. Bribery was not to be thought of, and a repetition of Mr. Churchill's desperate dash for freedom was impossible. It remained, therefore, for Captain Haldane and his colleagues to invent a new and ingenious method of bursting their bonds. An effort to cut the electric wires to throw the place in darkness while they scaled the walls, proved a sorry failure, and at last, having tried the roof and other points of egress and found them wanting, the companions hit on the happy idea of burrowing a subterranean place of concealment. Here they thought to scrape on and on till they bored a tunnel into the open! The discovery of a trap-door in the planks under one of the beds lent impetus to their designs, and they arranged to excavate a route diagonally under the street, and so pass into the gardens of the neighbouring houses. Marvellous was the patience and perseverance with which they, almost toolless--with only scraps of biscuit tins and screwdrivers--toiled daily in the accomplishment of their plan, and pathetic their dismay when their tunnel finished up by landing them in several feet of water with a promise of more to come. But they were indefatigable. Captain Haldane, like the great Napoleon, argued that the word impossible was only to be found in the dictionary of fools. Rumours that the prisoners were to be removed to a new building in two or three days only contrived to render the conspirators more desperate in their craving to be at large, and again the trap-door system was discussed. The young men determined on revised operations, and hit on the plan of living underground in the cave they should dig, thus disappearing from Boer ken and conveying the idea that they had already bolted, leaving as evidence of flight their three empty beds! Here they proposed to wait till, the hue-and-cry after them having ceased, and the prison doors having been opened for the removal of the other officers, they could slink forth at their leisure. But the change of prison did not come to pass as soon as expected. The empty beds told their tale; the place was searched, the crouching creatures in their burrow heard the tramp of armed men above them, voices in close conference, and afterwards the departing footsteps of the discomfited Boer detectives. It was decided that the prisoners were gone, and further report, amplified by Kaffir imagination, declared that they were already on their way to Mafeking! Still, though safe from discovery, the plotters were far from comfortable. Food in very meagre quantities was smuggled through the trap-door, till at last, famine being the mother of resource, by a process of what they called "signalgrams," their wants and intentions were conveyed to those above. Then when the appointed raps gave notice of the opening of the mysterious portal, potted meats and other luxuries were liberally passed down. And here, in this ventilationless, miry hole, in darkness and dank-smelling atmosphere, they groped a weary existence, daring neither to cough, nor sneeze, nor whisper, lest discovery should rob them of success. They were unwashed--so grimy as to be unrecognisable even to themselves--they were cramped and covered with bruises, brought about by bumping their heads against the dome of their low dwelling; they were often hungry and sleepless, but they were buoyed up with a vast amount of hope and pluck.

Day after day sped on with unvarying monotony, and gradually hope began to exude at the pores. Six days passed, and they thought patience had come to the end of her tether. They longed to hold themselves upright, to see daylight, to eat their quantum of food, and, above all, to hear the sound of their own voices. But still they held on--longer, longer. Every day they knew made their chance of escape more secure, for the authorities in Pretoria, assured of their departure, had now ceased even from the habitual nine days of wonderment regarding their fate. Then they began to dig and burrow still further, this time with the assistance of a bayonet and a skewer, and for days and days pursued their silent, secret work, in hope to dig a channel some thirty feet long to reach the hospital yard beyond the Model School. Meanwhile they stored food in preparation for the great journey, and listened acutely for news of the proposed transfer of the prisoners to other quarters. At last they had their reward. A note was passed down to say that the officers were to be removed on the morrow. Then all was excitement. The curtain was drawing up on the play of which the prologue had promised so much. The trap-door was carefully fastened down, false screws being put into the screwholes so as to render the hiding-place as inconspicuous as possible.

At last came the looked-for hour. Sounds of packing-up and the shuffling passage of footsteps betokened activities. The commandant went his rounds, and then a cheery voice was heard to say, "All's well. Good-bye." They knew that was a signal--_the end had come_! So in time the whole party of prisoners disappeared, and with them their custodians! The coast was clear. Peeping forth from their ventilator the joyous hidden trio could view the street, the moving of baggage, and all the bustling preparations for a general exodus. Their rapture knew no bounds. But escape was even then deferred. Sightseers and police tramped through the vacated rooms all day, moving perilously near the trap-door, and laughing and jesting, unsuspicious of the precious haul that might have been theirs. It was late in the afternoon before the last visitors departed. Then, after collecting maps of their proposed route, taking a final meal, packing their meat lozenges, chocolate, &c., and money, they dressed and waited anxiously for the kindly cloak of night....

Meanwhile the other prisoners were removed to a camp from which escape was almost impossible. The place was enclosed with barbed wire fencing standing as high as a man. It measured about one hundred and fifty yards in length, and in width at the ends might have measured fifty yards. From this pen it was possible to gaze out over the hills to see life with the eye of Tantalus, so near and yet so far--men and women passing, trees and houses and cattle, all giving pictures of the free life without, that it was impossible for them to share. No efforts now to evade the guard could be made, for the enclosure was dotted thickly with electric lights, and was so thoroughly illuminated in every corner that there was no spot where a man could not have read. The dwelling-house was walled, and roofed with zinc, bare within and comfortless, and in the dormitory one hundred and forty cots were ranged side by side. A few screens, as in the Model School, were arranged at some of the bedheads, but of privacy there was none. The exchange was a sorry one, and Captain Haldane and his companions, Mr. Le Mesurier and Mr. Brockie, were wise in making a vigorous bid to get clear of the fate that overtook their comrades.

* * * * *

Already a whiff of coming liberty seemed to reward these conspirators for their dark days of anticipation. Their meal and their preparations completed, they reconnoitred and discovered that all was clear. Then, joyously, the intending fugitives emerged from their terrible lair. With some difficulty they stood upright, their limbs refused their office, they felt old, rheumatic stricken, incapable of movement. But at last, boots in hand, creeping, as the French say, on _pattes de velours_, they dragged themselves to a broken window, and, passing through the gap made by the shattered pane, gained the yard. Climbing over the railings--luckily unnoticed in spite of the brilliant rays of the full moon--they made for the nearest road leading to the Delagoa Bay Railway. Fortunately for them young Brockie, who was a Colonial and up to the "tricks of the trade," donned the Transvaal colours round his hat. Added to this he wore his arm in a sling, to give the impression that he was a wounded Boer. Thus they got through the somewhat deserted street to the outskirts of the town unchallenged. Once a policeman almost spoke to them, his suspicion was on the eve of being aroused, but the solitary myrmidon of the law, inquisitive yet discreet, found himself face to face with three desperate men whose expression was not reassuring! He wisely slunk off. Towards the railway line they now went, experiencing a series of hairbreadth 'scapes, for there were orders to shoot any one seen wandering on the railway track. But they dodged in holes and round corners, in rank grass and in ditches and dongas, traversing river and spruit, and plodding along the highway, now losing their bearings, now retracing their steps, ever striving to reach Elands River station, twenty miles east of Pretoria.

(Drawing by J. Schönberg.)]

On the left of the railway line ran the river, and as they toiled on--the silver of the stream and the glint of the railway lines shimmering in the ray of the moon--they descried tents, heard voices, and, worse still, a dog's bark, inquisitive, suspicious. Quickly to earth they went, hiding and dodging in the long grass between river and line. This, the critical moment of their journey, forms one of the most exciting phases of Captain Haldane's altogether interesting narrative.

"After lying in the grass about twenty minutes, for we did not care to move so long as the dogs remained on the alert, we heard voices coming in our direction, and the barking of the dogs became more distinct. A whispered conference was held, and then we dragged ourselves like snakes diagonally back towards the river. Reaching a ditch, Le Mesurier, who was following me, came alongside and asked me if I had seen Brockie, who had been following him. I had not, so we waited a few moments; but seeing nothing of him, and the enemy drawing near, we crossed the obstacle, and found ourselves at the edge of the stream. Again we paused, this time for several minutes, and the searchers came in view, following our track.

"The crisis had come: to stay where we were meant probably recapture. I whispered to Le Mesurier to follow me quietly, and not to splash. The next minute I was in the river, which was out of my depth, and Le Mesurier dropped in beside me. Holding on to the roots of the reeds which lined the bank, we carefully pulled ourselves some distance down-stream, and then paused. The searchers and their dogs were evidently now at fault, and showed no signs of coming our way, so we continued our downward course, and ultimately swam across and into a ditch on the other side.

"We had been a good half-hour in the stream, which seemed to us intensely cold, and our teeth were chattering so that we could scarcely speak. My wrist-watch had stopped; but Le Mesurier's, a Waterbury, was still going, for it had been provided by his care with a waterproof case. We now crept along the ditch up-stream again, and then turned off towards the hillside, which was dotted with large boulders. Coming round the corner of one of these, we found a tent in front of us, and not caring to pass it, we tried to climb up the steep face of the hill. Failing at one point, we found a kind of "chimney," up which we climbed, pulling and pushing each other till the top was gained. A few minutes' rest was necessary, for our clothes were heavy with water and the climb had made us breathless. Le Mesurier had done wonders with his ankle--the cold water had been most efficacious. Next we walked along the rocky face of the hill, parallel to the direction we had followed below, and gradually descended to the level and struck a path. Brockie was irretrievably lost, and it was useless to attempt to find him. He had with him a water-bottle and sufficient food, and knew both the Dutch and the Kaffir languages. Following the path, we passed several clumps of bracken, one of which we selected as a suitable hiding-place. To have walked farther in our wet and clinging garments might have been wiser, but we decided that we had had sufficient excitement for one night without trying to add to it."

So there they remained--wet, frigid, excited, aching--all through the long sleepless hours, with nothing to vary the monotony save the nip of the musquitoes. When morning came, their jaded limbs, like the joints of wooden dolls, almost threatened to creak; and only with the warmth of sunrise did they regain some of their pristine elasticity. For food they now became anxious; their supplies were waterlogged, their chocolate was a thirst-creating mash, and their precious whisky bottle in the course of recent adventures had lost cork and contents. A miserable day passed hiding in a swamp, and crouching out of the light of day till again at night, and in a thunder-storm, they thought it advisable to resume their journey. Then, by the mercy of Providence, footsore, throatsore, heartsore, and hungry they came on a field of water melons. Though ravenously they took their fill, their joy was not of long duration. The inevitable bark of the Boer dog warned them to be off. After this they again lost their bearings, making needless detours, and only reaching Elands River station--worn, weary, and down-hearted--before daybreak. Then making their way to some gum trees that offered welcome shelter, they again sought to sleep, but it was not to be. Imagination had made molehills into mountains and footsteps into cracks of doom. A Dutch youth passed by, his dog growled and sniffed; discovery seemed imminent, but the hand of fate intervened, they remained safe. Two nights, three nights were passed on the veldt in anticipation of a train that might be on its way to Balmoral. Their sufferings, their anxieties, and risks make many a tale with a tale. Hiding continued during the day, now in an antbear hole, now among grasses sodden with dew, the fugitives, from caution, fatigue, and other causes, covering to that time only thirty-six miles in four days. Finally, to make a long story short, the unhappy wayfarers, their spirits and constitutions at the lowest ebb, were led by the kindness of a Kaffir into the safe keeping of a British subject, the manager of the Douglas Colliery Store, who then nourished them and helped them to repair the terrible havoc wrought by the past days of anxiety and starvation, and assisted them to make plans for getting over the border. Here, newly arrayed in decent clothing, washed and trimmed--for they had originally presented the effect of veritable scarecrows--they began to regain energy and hope. They were then initiated in the first moves of a scheme to carry them to safety. With the assistance of Dr. Gillespie, the doctor of the miners--a "rare guid" fellow from all accounts--they got, on the 24th of March, to the Transvaal Delagoa Bay Colliery; and here for some days following a conspiracy was set on foot to buy some bales of wool, sufficient to make a truck load, and forward the bales, plus the escaped prisoners, to a firm at Lorenço Marques. The scheme succeeded, though only after some smart and sympathetic manoeuvring on the part of the newly found British friends, and many hours of terrible risk and suspense. Finally, to the intense joy of the two adventurous ones, they found themselves on Portuguese territory. On Sunday the 1st of April they were free men! From that time their ways were fairly smooth. They were the heroes of the hour, for every one had heard of their story and was expecting them, Sergeant Brockie having preceded them after some equally exciting experiences.

On the 6th of April the gallant pair left Lorenço Marques for Durban, Captain Aylmer Haldane hastening to rejoin his regiment, the 2nd Battalion Gordon Highlanders, at Ladysmith, and Mr. Le Mesurier (Dublin Fusiliers) going round to join General Hunter's Division in the Free State. Thus the two enterprising officers, after enduring almost unequalled tortures of body and mind, found themselves free to return to duty and fight again for the honour and glory of the Empire.

PREPARATIONS FOR ACTION

Bloemfontein meanwhile was a strange mixture of pastoral simplicity and martial magnificence, and curious, almost wonderful, was the view from a distance of the landscape in the vicinity. The whole earth, as though blossoming, seemed to have thrown up mushrooms far and wide--mushrooms grey, and white, and green. Dotted among them were strange forms, like the shapes of antediluvian reptiles--grasshoppers, locusts of mammoth size. Coming nearer the town it was possible to recognise both mushrooms and reptiles for what they really were, namely, the tents and the guns of the largest army that England has put into one camp since the Crimea! In and out and round about wandered horses and mules innumerable, so numberless, indeed, that the casual onlooker wondered at the outcry for equine reinforcements. Yet these were urgently needed, and none but those "in the know" could comprehend how much the strategical problem relied for solution on their arrival, and how paralysed were the movements of the generals for want of them. Some people opined that the Commander-in-chief would start off for Pretoria at express speed, others hinted that his plan of campaign would be altered to meet the complications that had arisen owing to the renewed activity of the Boers in the south-eastern corner of the Free State. But Lord Roberts was unmoved by either impatience or disaster. He evidently determined to fritter his resources on no operations that could not be concerted and rapidly effective.

Photo by Bassano, London]

Meanwhile stores, ammunition, warm clothing (for the wintry weather was setting in), and boots were being brought in enormous quantities from the Cape. The wardrobes of the hard-fighting multitude were in sad need of repair, and some wag declared that certain tatterdemalions could only venture abroad after dark, for fear of shocking the Mother Grundys of Bloemfontein. Horses, too, were being gradually collected, for it was felt that until there was a sufficiency of remounts, General French's dashing evolutions would be too costly to be appreciable. The great gallop to Kimberley had cost an immense amount in horse-flesh--about 1500 out of 5000, some said--and, in consequence, the splendid cavalry was again reduced to impotence, just when the Boers, though demoralised by the surrender of Cronje, might have been pursued and punished as they deserved. According to later computation, it was decided that the army must wear out at the rate of 5000 horses a month, and therefore no move could be set on foot till the incoming supply was organised to meet the demand.

But for the state of horses and men the Field-Marshal could have stuck to his well-known principle, one acquired from the great Napoleon himself, namely, that a commander-in-chief should never give rest either to the victor or to the vanquished. As it was, he was stuck fast, and the Boers were not slow to take advantage of the opportunity thus given them to recuperate.

Up to the time of the Koorn Spruit and Reddersburg disasters things seemed to be ranging themselves satisfactorily, but little by little the authorities began to discover that the entire attitude of the apparently pacified burghers was decidedly false. By degrees they learnt that, instead of disturbing a hornet's nest and clearing it, they had, as it were, got into the midst of it themselves. It became evident that within the town there existed a conspiracy for the purpose not only of supplying the enemy with information, but keeping him ready equipped for hostility. Under the mask of neutrality, certain Germans and others incited the burghers who had laid down their arms to take them up again. This, in the true sense of the word, for it was found that upwards of some 3000 weapons had been buried for use in emergency. But once General Pretyman obtained a true grasp of the situation, and could prove the duplicit nature of the persons with whom he had to deal, the work of weeding and deportation of the obnoxious element of Bloemfontein society was taken in hand.

Early in the month a prominent figure was removed from the fighting scene. The death was announced of Colonel the Hon. G. H. Gough[3] at Norval's Pont. This distinguished officer till the time of his death had been acting as Assistant Adjutant-General to General French's Cavalry Division. His services had been many and brilliant, and his loss was deeply deplored.

The occupation of pacifying the disturbed western districts continued. General Settle and his forces had been operating between De Aar, Prieska, Kenhardt, and Upington, and General Parsons had occupied Kenhardt, and in a few days all traces of rebellion in the district between Van Wyks Vlei and Kenhardt had disappeared. As a matter of fact, it was discovered that many of the rebels were ignorant of why they were fighting at all. Some one addressed them and said, "What are you fighting for?" and they answered, "Equal rights for all white men in South Africa." "Then," said the speaker, "go and fight Paul Kruger. He alone refuses white men equal rights!" Still more ignorant were many of the subsidised sympathisers, while other foreigners who were forced to fight were evidently apathetic regarding the issue of the struggle. The following story was told of a Pole, who was not sorry when taken prisoner. When asked why he fought, he said, "Vat could I do? Dey give me musket and bandolier, and say, 'You must fight.' The captain say to me, 'You take that mountain,' and I ask, 'Vare shall I take it?'" If the tale was not absolutely accurate, it was still typical of the nonchalance of many who were engaged in the Transvaal cause.

Of changes there were many. On the 10th, it was announced in general orders that Major-General Sir H. Chermside had been appointed to the command of the Third Division _vice_ Lieutenant-General Sir W. F. Gatacre "ordered to England." There was a good deal of sympathy expressed by all who knew the difficulties with which General Gatacre had had to contend. But, as an old campaigner remarked, luck counts for as much as merit in actual warfare. "Give me a man who is lucky, and I ask nothing more." Luck was at the bottom of it all, and luck is all-important where multitudes of men have to follow, heart in hand, blindly rushing to glory in the footsteps of faith. General Gatacre's name now spelt disaster, and as men had to be marched to ticklish work that wanted nerve and confidence of the best, a luckier commander was chosen. Accordingly, a much-tried officer--a soldier to the marrow--was sacrificed on the altar of necessity.

An Infantry Division from the Natal side was formed under the command of Sir Archibald Hunter, and called the Tenth Division, while the Eleventh Division was commanded by General Pole-Carew. General Ian Hamilton commanded a division of mounted infantry, ten thousand strong, formed of South African and other mounted Colonial contingents, and divided into two brigades under Generals Hutton and Ridley. As this division came in for a considerable amount of exercise in course of Lord Roberts's great advance, it is particularly interesting to examine and remember its component parts.

General Hutton's brigade comprised the Canadians, the New Zealanders, and all the Australians except the cavalry. The staff was as follows:--

Colonel Martyr, Chief Staff Officer; Lord Rosmead,
Aide-de-Camp; Colonel Hoad (Victoria), Assistant
Adjutant-General; Major Bridges (New South Wales), Deputy
Assistant Adjutant-General; Major Cartwright (Canada), Deputy
Assistant Adjutant-General; Colonel Gordon (Adelaide), officer
on the line of communication; Major Rankin (Queensland), Staff
Officer; Major Vandeleur (Scots Guards), advanced base
transport officer; Captain Lex, Army Service Corps, supply
officer.

The brigade consisted of four corps of mounted infantry, under Colonels Alderson, De Lisle, Pilcher, and Henry.

The first corps consisted of a 1st Battalion of Canadians, under Colonel Lessard; a 2nd Battalion, under Colonel Herchmer; and Strathcona's Horse, under Colonel Steel.

The second corps consisted of the New South Wales Mounted Infantry, under Colonel Knight, and the West Australians, under Captain Moor.

The third corps was formed of the Queenslanders, under Colonel Ricardo, and the New Zealanders, under Major Robin.

The fourth corps consisted of the Victorians, under Colonel Price; the South Australians, under Captain Reade; and the Tasmanians, under Captain Cameron.

Each corps had a battalion of Imperial Mounted Infantry attached to it, except the New South Wales Corps. A battery joined the division, as well as the Canadian Battery and a number of Vickers-Maxims. The New South Wales Army Medical Corps, under Colonel Williams, were the medical troops of the division.

General Ridley's brigade consisted entirely of South African troops.

Lord Roberts, always appreciative of the Colonials, ordered the body of Colonel Umphelby of the Victorian Contingent, who was killed at Driefontein, to be removed to Bloemfontein, there to be buried with honours appropriate to the distinction of that gallant officer's services.

Rearrangements of all kinds were taking place, the better to meet the peculiarities of the situation. Sir Redvers Buller was asked to co-operate by forcing Van Reenen's Pass, and threatening the enemy's line of retreat; but the task was one bristling with difficulties, as until Northern Natal should be cleared of the enemy he considered it unsafe to move westward. Accordingly, to meet the necessity for strong action in the east of the Free State, it was decided the Natal Field Army should continue its work in its own ground, minus the Tenth Division (Hunter's), which should be moved by sea to East London, one brigade (Barton's) to replace the Eighth Division (Rundle's), diverted from Kimberley to Springfontein, and one brigade (Hart's) to operate in the neighbourhood of Bethulie. It must here be noted that the country south of a line drawn from Kimberley to Bloemfontein seemed to be almost under control, but the pacification of the angle south-east of Bloemfontein had, as yet, to be accomplished.

Meanwhile, President Kruger made a tour of the positions of his army, in order to stimulate the Free Staters to further efforts; but very many of these began to show symptoms of unbelief, and refused any longer to swallow the assertions that Russia had taken London and that America was coming to the aid of the Boers, which the President and other kinsmen of Ananias in the Transvaal took the trouble to repeat. Daily, various Free Staters surrendered--some of them genuinely, while others merely gave up an old rifle for convenience' sake, burying some four others for use in emergency--took to their farms, and there developed from fine fighting-men into mean and despicable spies. With these slippery fish it was difficult to cope, and the problem of how to manage them took some little time to solve. Still, the task of remodelling and improving the army continued, all working to bring the long halt to a conclusion as speedily as possible.

Efforts wonderful and successful were made to increase the mobility, particularly of the mounted portions of the troops. One section of the Vickers-Maxim guns (1-inch guns) was attached to each cavalry brigade, and two sections to each brigade of mounted infantry. To add to the mobility of the horse artillery the waggons of each battery were reduced to three, spare teams being allowed for each gun.

The Eighth Division (Rundle) which, as we know, had been diverted from Kimberley to Springfontein, and the Third Division (Gatacre's, now Chermside's) which was concentrated at Bethanie, were fulfilling a part of Lord Roberts's scheme for sweeping the right-hand bottom corner of the Free State clear of the enemy. Assisting them was General Hart, with a brigade of Hunter's Division, and engaged also in the operation were the mounted infantry, under General Brabazon, and part of the Colonial Brigade under General Brabant. Another part of this Brigade, which had moved towards Wepener at the beginning of the month, had there been blockaded by the enemy, and though their position was not regarded as serious, Lord Roberts was forming plans for a general converging movement which would have the effect of routing the Boers from the end of the Free State altogether.

Energetic measures of every kind were adopted for the control of the Free State. General Pretyman, who had been appointed Military Governor of Bloemfontein, developed a scheme for the protection of those who had taken the oaths of submission, and who were hourly in dread of the reprisals of the Boers. Though some of the Free Staters for long had been entirely sick of the war, and were only forced into fighting in fear of ill-treatment by the Boers, others, as we are aware, had merely hidden their arms in the determination to take up fighting whenever a good chance offered. In order to secure the interests of the pacific, and keep an eye on the treacherous, General Pretyman began to organise a corps of Mounted Police for service in the Free State, at the same time dividing the conquered radius into sections. Each section was to be administered by a Commissioner chosen for his experience in Colonial matters. Colonel Girouard, R.E., also formed a railway corps, employing some ten volunteers from each regiment to help in the enormous operations now being set on foot. A change was also made in the postage stamp of the country. The existing issues of stamps of President Steyn's Republic were marked V.R.I. in black ink, and also with figures denoting their value as recognised by the Imperial Government. The threepenny stamps were marked with the nominal value of 2½d., to agree with the twenty-five centimes of the Postal Union. Naturally the philatelists were all on the alert, and stamps as well as trophies were fetching absurd prices in the town.

Of recreation there was also a little. On the 18th of April a somewhat original concert was organised by the war correspondents, on behalf of the Widows' and Orphans' Funds of London and Bloemfontein. The originality of the scheme and the interest thereof lay in the fact that conquerors and conquered met together on the common ground of charity, and mutually contributed to make the undertaking a success. £300 were realised. Mr. Rudyard Kipling put forth his quota. He did honour to the Colonials in verse, and this ditty, to the tune of "Auld Lang Syne," was sung by Miss Fraser, the daughter of Mr. Steyn's former opponent for the Presidency. Among the marketables were portraits of Lord Roberts and Mr. Kruger. These were the work of some of the artist journalists. "Bobs" was "knocked down" for a big figure, and became the property of Lord Stanley, a valuable trophy that may well become an historical heirloom. This concert was only one of the many efforts at harmony made by Lord Roberts, who, as diplomatist and statesman as much as soldier and conqueror, foresaw a future wherein the people of the Free State, originally actuated by no animosity towards the British, would become reconciled to the beneficent rule of the British Empire, as contrasting with the despotic rule of the Boer Republics, and live side by side with us in the true spirit of liberty, fraternity, and equality enjoyed by British subjects.

WITH LORD METHUEN--THE BATTLE OF BOSHOF

Against the misfortunes of Koorn Spruit and Reddersburg we would place one brilliant victory--a victory gained by Lord Methuen at Boshof, mainly through the smartness, bravery, and unspeakable steadiness of the Imperial Yeomanry, who were under fire for the first time, and the splendid dash of the Kimberley Corps, whose experiences during the siege had lifted them almost to the rank of veterans.

It may be remembered that Lord Methuen at the end of February took up the post of Administrator of the Kimberley district, which extends as far south as the Orange River, subsequently leaving Colonel Kekewich in command of the local forces. The General commenced active operations on the western frontier, for the purpose of clearing the country of rebellious obstructions, and protecting the lines of communication with the north.

At Boshof there was concentrated a comparatively large army, composed of two batteries of artillery, about 6000 infantry, and 1000 mounted infantry, which were massing together to march to Kroonstadt, where they expected eventually to take their place as the left wing of the main army. The town itself presented a desolate aspect, all the Dutchmen being absent on commando under Commandant Duplessis, and being in force on the Vaal River, some miles distant.

Lord Methuen hearing that a detachment of the enemy was moving along the Jacobsdal road, and threatening his communications, ordered Colonel Peakman to effect its capture. As a result of this order a most successful fight took place, some five miles east of Boshof, on the 5th of April.

Taking part in the action were two companies of the Bucks Yeomanry, one of the Berks Yeomanry, one of the Oxford Yeomanry, one company of the Sherwood Rangers, one of the Yorkshire Yeomanry, and also the Kimberley Mounted Volunteers. With these was the Fourth Battery R.F.A.

The Imperial Yeomanry under Lord Chesham on this occasion had their first chance of distinguishing themselves and seized it, behaving, as some one who looked on said, "like veteran troops." The affair began in haste. A Yeomanry patrol suddenly discovered the enemy and announced his near approach. There was a rush. "To horse! to horse!" sang out the troopers keen for action. Their steeds were grazing, but in less than thirty minutes every man was careering off to duty. The Boers, some sixty-eight in number, were tenanting a kopje, and round their lair the troops disposed themselves, Lord Scarborough's Squadron of Yeomanry to left, and the Kimberley Mounted Corps to right. The rest of the Yeomanry attacked from the front, occupying two small kopjes some fourteen hundred yards distant from the enemy. These promptly greeted them with a persistent fusillade. Then the right flank slowly began to creep up, taking advantage of cover as nature had provided, while the front marched across the open. This advance of the troops was masterly, though no cover was available till the base of the kopje occupied by the enemy was reached. Method and coolness were displayed to a great extent, and to these qualities was due the day's success. For three and a half hours the operations lasted, the men closing gradually in, and finally surrounding the kopje and storming it. The surrounding process, both by the Yeomanry and the Kimberley force, was carried on with amazing skill and coolness till the moment came for which all were panting. The Yeomanry then fixed bayonets and charged. A rush, a flash of steel, and then--surrender. The Boers hoisted a white flag! but even as they did so their comrades poured deadly bullets on our advancing men. Captain Williams of the "Imperials," who was gallantly in advance of his comrades, dropped, shot dead in the very hour of victory. There was small consolation in the fact that the murderer was instantly slain by an avenging hand.

At this time the men had gained the hill and were within seventy yards of the Boer trenches. But the Boers, notwithstanding their display of the white flag, continued to blaze with their rifles till a Yeomanry officer shouted that he would continue to fire unless the enemy threw down their rifles and put up their hands. This threat brought the cowards to their senses. They obeyed, and the position was gained with a rousing, ringing cheer. Then came the sad part of triumph, the collection of the gallant dead and the succour of the wounded. Among the first were three, Captains Williams and Boyle, and Sergeant Patrick Campbell. The enemy's dead and wounded numbered fourteen, while our wounded numbered seven.

Captain Cecil Boyle was shot through the temple within eighty yards of the Boer position while gallantly leading his men. He was a soldier to the core, one who, merely from a sense of patriotic responsibility, was among the first to leap to his country's call, and who threw into his work so much energy, zeal, and grave purpose that the atmosphere of the camp made him feel at the end of a week as if, to use his own words, "I had done nothing but soldiering all my life." He, at the invitation of his old chum, Colonel Douglas Haig, began work at Colesberg "to watch the cavalry operations." There he had what he thought the supreme good luck to be appointed galloper to General French. After the relief of Kimberley and the capture of Cronje he went to the Cape to meet the Oxfordshire Yeomanry, and with them gallantly advanced to meet his fate--the first Yeomanry officer in this history of ours to fall in action.

Photo by Russell & Sons, London]

At the close of the fight the clouds which had been lowering over the position like a pall of purple suddenly burst. Torrents descended, saturating the heated troops and sopping the ground whereon lay the maimed and slain. With thunder bellowing and lightning splitting the skies, with an accompaniment of deluge and darkness, the troops and their prisoners found their way to camp. Under cover of the obscurity some of the latter made a wild endeavour to escape, but the Yeomanry were too proud of their "bag" to allow a single one to get free, and finally had the satisfaction of seeing their bedraggled prize lodged in jail.