Chapter XIII: Spion Kop (2)

Far below, the main body of the British army had heard the rattle of the Boer outposts' first volley and the sound of cheering, succeeded by silence, which told that the summit was won. As the dawn broke they prepared for another day of battle, supposing that this achievement would be followed by a general assault upon the enemy's positions. But reinforcements were not promptly sent to join the forlorn hope in its cloudland. No attempt was made to push artillery up to its support; the mountain battery, which was with the army for this special work, was not sent forward--and it is possible that its weak short-range pieces firing smoke-producing powder would have been only a source of embarrassment and loss. The way was so steep that it was doubted whether heavier guns could be sent up. Already there was evident that same want of energy and determination to conquer at all costs which had exerted such a detrimental influence on the fighting of the past week. From out of the mist could now be heard the occasional crack of rifles, indicating that the outposts on the mountain were exchanging shots. It was clear that the enemy had not fallen back, but was, on the contrary, prepared to dispute the very possession of Spion Kop.

[Sidenote: Botha determines to recapture the hill.]

Meantime, the remnants of the Boer picket had reached General Botha's headquarters and given the alarm. With quick decision and judgment, which proved his capacity, the General ordered that the mountain should be recaptured at all costs. It was the key of the position, unlocking the door to Ladysmith. Through the mist horsemen sped to the camps of the commandos, bidding them ride hard to the rescue. From all points the Boers began to stream along the ridges which meet at Spion Kop, and prepared to assault in their turn, encouraged by President Steyn, who was present upon the field in person. Their cannon, four Krupps or Creusot weapons, one at least of heavy calibre, and four or five "Pom-Poms" were trained in readiness for the mist to lift, to shower death and destruction upon the forlorn hope. A party of forty men worked forward along the ridge, and, even before the sun dispersed the clouds, opened a sniping fire.

[_From a photograph._

TWO OF THE DEFENDERS OF SPION KOP.]

[Sidenote: Positions of the opposing forces.]

[Sidenote: JAN. 24, 1900. _The Boers Bombard Spion Kop._]

As the sun came through the mist, bringing the certainty of a fiercely hot day, the British garrison could at last perceive the real situation. The summit of Spion Kop had been but half occupied; the northern end was in the hands of the Boers, who held a trench upon it. Moreover, the table-land on the summit sloped down to the north, and lay open to the enemy's fire from kopjes, rising from the long mountain ridge, which surrounded it on three sides. The ridge forked at Spion Kop, whose summit thus formed a projecting natural bastion; one line of heights ran up to the north-west in the direction of Acton Homes--the line of heights which Sir Charles Warren's infantry had assailed day after day--another ran due eastward, prolonging the Boer positions in front of Potgieter's Drift. The British force on Spion Kop was thus most critically placed. It had no guns, yet it was exposed in the closest of formations to gun fire; reinforcements could only reach it by a long and arduous climb, whereas the Boers, by pushing their men along the ridges which they held, could arrive comparatively fresh; it could be attacked from every side except the south by a converging and enfilading fire; its cover was all but useless, for it was now seen that the trenches faced in the wrong direction. Added to this there was the curious want of attention to detail which had neglected the laying of a field telegraph so as to connect the summit with headquarters; a want of oil for signal lamps; and a paucity in the numbers of heliograph-operators and flag-signallers with the forlorn hope. This neglect of the means of communication disastrously affected the operations at every turn. Generals Warren and Buller did not know what was happening on the summit, and never went there to see. The British artillery, if report can be believed, fired repeatedly on the British troops, through inadvertence and ignorance of the precise positions occupied. Finally, when uncertainty as to who was in command on the mountain arose, it could not be immediately solved by an appeal to headquarters.

_F. J. Waugh._]

THE FIGHT ON SPION KOP.

This drawing is based on a Boer photograph taken on the spot immediately after the battle. The concentrated fire of the enemy was so terribly effective that our men were compelled to shelter themselves behind the dead bodies of their comrades.]

[Sidenote: The Boers bombard the British position.]

From the British position on Three Tree Hill a breathless watch had been kept on the clouds that veiled the summit. As the fleecy whiteness was dispersed about 8 o'clock, the roll of musketry began. At the same time the artillery opened fire, the naval guns shelling two precipitous kopjes which rose just to the east of Spion Kop, while the field guns on Three Tree Hill thundered at the western ridge. The Boer guns had already broken silence and commenced a furious bombardment of Spion Kop, raining shells upon General Woodgate's force. Simultaneously the Boer marksmen in small parties poured in a deadly rifle fire from the kopjes on the three sides of Spion Kop; they began, too, to work towards the British trenches, taking all possible advantage of cover. All the early morning men were pouring in, and the assailants grew steadily in strength. The crackling of the rifles swelled into a heavy and continuous roar, and upon the portion of the mountain held by the British, shell, 94 lb., 15 lb., 12 lb., and 1 lb. in weight, fell at the rate of seven to ten a minute, throwing up dense clouds of dust, blowing human beings into unrecognisable fragments, inflicting the most ghastly wounds, terrifying those whom they did not slay. A cyclone of death had smitten the summit. No words can describe the appalling uproar and confusion; all around the thunder of the guns and the incessant roar of rifles; on the summit clouds of dust and the yells and oaths of the combatants; the groans of the wounded; the shrieks of the dying--man slaying man with every terrible circumstance that the imagination can picture.

[Sidenote: [JAN. 24, 1900.]

[Sidenote: Woodgate wounded.]

Under the stress of this terrible fire the British infantry held firm, Thorneycroft's volunteers on the left, Blomfield's Lancashire Fusiliers on the right. If a man showed his head or lifted his arm he was as good as out of the battle; so deadly, so overwhelming was the Boer fire, that he was sure to be hit. From the summit already trickled a steady stream of men towards the rear--towards the point where among the mimosas a hospital had begun its merciful work. With the wounded were a few unwounded--stragglers and skulkers--but not many. The British soldier in these dreadful moments is rarely untrue to the call of duty. He was at a grave disadvantage, for the rifle with which he was armed was awkward to load lying down; the Boer weapon with its clip holding five cartridges could be charged easily in a second or two. It may be that this was a trifle, but none the less the defect made its presence felt. So fierce, so breathless was the battle that no one had time for thought. From general to private on the summit the one concern was to hold the ground, to beat back the enemy, who came on like demons, to fling the dead from the trenches, and to remove the wounded. Here, as in the earlier battles of the war, there were some wonderful escapes. Colonel Thorneycroft, a man of great stature and extraordinary personal courage, was always upright among his men--always a mark for the enemy's bullets, which tore and riddled his clothing, but, strange to say, left him unharmed. General Woodgate had set a splendid example, walking coolly to and fro till, some time before 10 a.m., he was struck in the eye, while watching through his glass the effect of the British fire, and mortally wounded. He was borne off the field murmuring, "Let me alone! Let me alone!"

"It was as though hell had been let loose," was the concise description of a wounded officer. From below the sight was dreadful enough. "I saw three shells strike a certain trench within a minute," writes Mr. Atkins; "each struck it full in the face, and the brown dust rose and drifted away with the white smoke. The trench was toothed against the sky like a saw--made, I supposed, of sharp rocks built into a rampart. Another shell struck it, and then--heavens!--the trench rose up and moved forward. The trench was men; the teeth against the sky were men. They ran forward bending their bodies into a curve, as men do when they run under a heavy fire; they looked like a cornfield with a heavy wind sweeping over it from behind.... They flickered up, fleeted rapidly and silently across the sky, and flickered down into the rocks without the appearance of either a substantial beginning or end to the movement."

[_From a sketch made on the spot._

A LONG LADDER OF PAIN.

Bringing down wounded men from Spion Kop.]

[Sidenote: JAN. 24, 1900.] _Confusion of Commands._]

[Sidenote: Thorneycroft put in command.]

The Boers suffered heavily in their turn, but not so heavily, as they were in open formation, with better shelter, and out of sight of the British gunners. They had not to face the fearful shell fire which made of the British position a veritable shambles. As they gained ground and were able to enfilade one of our most advanced trenches, the situation grew more and more critical. Colonel Crofton, of the Royal Lancasters, upon whom the command had now devolved by seniority--General Woodgate having fallen--was greatly alarmed. Towards 10 o'clock he heliographed to headquarters this startling message: "Reinforce at once or all lost. General dead." It was clear that a crisis had arrived demanding every effort. Sir Charles Warren replied by ordering up General Coke with the 2nd Middlesex, 2nd Dorsetshires, and Imperial Light Infantry--the last a volunteer battalion raised at Durban, which was now to have its terrible baptism of fire--and by a message that Colonel Crofton must hold out to the last and must not think of surrender. But Colonel Crofton's words had roused the uneasiness of General Buller, who from Spearman's Hill was watching the battle. Apparently unaware that General Coke was on the way up, he telegraphed to Sir Charles Warren at Three Tree Hill--"Unless you put some really good, hard-fighting man in command on the top, you will lose the hill. I suggest Thorneycroft." General Warren complied with his Commander-in-Chief's "suggestion." Colonel Thorneycroft was appointed to command, "with local rank of Brigadier-General." Thus the confusion was made worse, as half the men on the top and most of those on their way up were unaware of this change. It was as at Sedan, where, in the space of a few hours, there were three commanders, with fatal results.

[_From a photograph._

GENERAL SIR CHARLES WARREN GIVING INSTRUCTIONS DURING THE SPION KOP FIGHT.

General Warren was having a slight wound bound up when the photograph was taken.]

Besides the Middlesex Regiment, the Dorsets, and the Imperial Light Infantry, who had earlier in the morning moved up to the head of the valley dividing Three Tree Hill from Spion Kop, and who were now sent up to the actual summit of Spion Kop, other help had been despatched. With a soldierly intuition which did him infinite credit, General Lyttelton at Potgieter's Drift had seized the extremity of the emergency and had directed the 2nd Scottish Rifles to cross at Kaffir's Drift, above Potgieter's, and advance up the southern slope of the mountain. Yet, as the distance to be covered was great, it was not till late in the afternoon that they reached the scene of action. Further to the left Generals Hart and Hildyard made as though they, too, intended to assault the positions opposed to them, and had they been permitted so to do, it is certain that much of the pressure would have been taken off the forlorn hope on Spion Kop. However, a sharp fire was exchanged with the Boers, and then these two brigades fell to watching and waiting, unable to aid their comrades who were fighting for dear life on that grim summit. They could see the human anthill on the sky-line in confusion; tiny figures running to and fro; other figures with the gesture of command rallying the rout and restoring order. Instinctively they realised the tremendous gravity of the struggle.

_R. Caton Woodville._]

REINFORCEMENTS FOR SPION KOP.

It was not until the night of the 24th that an attempt was made to get guns to the top of the hill. It was then too late; the hill had been abandoned, and the shattered remnants of the British force were already descending.]

[_Photo by Wyrall & Son, Aldershot._

MAJOR-GENERAL COKE.

John Talbot Coke was educated at Harrow; entered the Army as 2nd Lieutenant in the 21st Foot in 1859, and was transferred to the 25th Foot (afterwards named the King's Own Scottish Borderers) in 1860; Captain, 1866; Major, 1879; Lieutenant-Colonel, 1885; Colonel, 1889; was put on half-pay, 1898. He served with the Suakin Field Force in 1888 during the investment of Suakin; was present in the engagement of Gemaizah; served in the operations on the Sudan frontier in 1889; was appointed senior officer at Mauritius in 1898, with local rank of Major-General, and left there to command the 10th Brigade of the South African Field Force, 1899.]

[Sidenote: JAN. 24, 1900.] _Thorneycroft allows no Surrender._]

[Sidenote: A frightful struggle.]

[Sidenote: [JAN. 24, 1900.]

As the morning wore on, the fight on the summit grew fiercer and fiercer. Fresh troops were continually arriving, for in the daylight the climb was not so excessively difficult, till the small space was packed with men. Just before the first reinforcements came up there was a moment when disaster was narrowly avoided. The British force in one of the outlying trenches was demoralised by its losses and by the fire. About twenty men threw up their hands and shouted that they would surrender to the Boers not a hundred yards away. On this, says Mr. Winston Churchill, Colonel Thorneycroft dashed to the spot. "The Boers advancing to take the prisoners--as at Nicholson's Nek--were scarcely thirty yards away. Thorneycroft shouted to the Boer leader: 'You may go to----! I command on this hill and allow no surrender. Go on with your firing.' Which latter they did with terrible effect, killing many. The survivors, with the rest of the firing line, fled 200 yards," but then were rallied and regained the lost ground. It was owned by the Boers themselves after the battle that the British soldiers had "fought with desperate bravery and died like men." Despite the disadvantage of the ground, despite the tremendous bombardment, they could not and would not be forced back. The heaps of dead grew higher; an awful breastwork of corpses was built to shelter the living; the trickle of wounded to the rear became a stream; but the fight flickered to and fro and the summit was still held.

[Sidenote: Lack of artillery support.]

From the shoulder of the hill by the mimosas, where the maimed men crowded in a heart-rending throng round the dressing station, the reinforcements emerged upon that bare plateau of death. There were now the best part of 5,000 men, crowded into an area of little over three acres. But no guns came, though all looked long and eagerly for them. A couple of "Pom-Poms," a pair of 15-pounders, would have restored confidence by their roar. But there were no "Pom-Poms" with the army, and the artillery officers could not undertake to move their guns up to the height by the precipitous track. It only remained to suffer and die. In that atmosphere, thick with the fumes of cordite, of melinite, and of the powder in bursting shells, suffocating with smoke and dust and heat, the burning thirst of the battlefield laid its parching grip upon the throats of the combatants, and men cried and screamed for water. Yet water there was none, or, if there had been, there was no time to seek it, and no chance of carrying it alive into the firing line. Units were now commingled, companies confounded with companies, battalions with battalions; so many officers were down that there were few to lead and inspire the men in the fighting line. About 2 p.m. a white flag was raised over part of the British trenches, and 150 of the 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers under Captain Freeth surrendered. In this battalion the losses of officers had been terrible, and the consequent demoralisation great. Among those who fell was the ill-fated son of Hicks Pasha, Captain Hicks. Blown to pieces by a shell, while bravely leading his men, no trace of him could be found, and his fate was for months uncertain.

_F. J. Waugh._]

THE BRITISH TROOPS MEETING A BOER RUSH ON SPION KOP.]

[Sidenote: JAN. 24, 1900.] _An Officer's Experiences in the Battle._]

[Sidenote: Boer attempts to rush the position.]

The rifle fire of the British troops was so shaken by the hail of shells, that the Boers were able repeatedly to close, and were only driven back time after time by desperate bayonet charges. They had set their hearts upon repeating Majuba, and capturing or driving back in utter rout the British troops. Again and again their leaders called upon our men to surrender, and were received each time with derisive shouts, though some small parties raised the white flag. They asserted, indeed, that our officers slashed the men with swords to make them fight--a story which is disproved by the fact that, like the men, the officers carried rifles; and they further accused us of firing upon those who had been made prisoners. There may have been such incidents, but not through any set purpose or with the fixed deliberation which attended their own too frequent breaches of the laws of war.

Fired at Spion Kop and not exploded. Presented by the finder to President Kruger.]

Killed at Spion Kop. Was the son of Hicks Pasha, the unfortunate General who, with all his forces, was massacred in the Soudan, Nov. 1883.]

Partly based, by permission, on the map in Mr. Winston Churchill's "London to Ladysmith via Pretoria."]

[Sidenote: [JAN. 24, 1900.]

The personal story of a wounded officer of the 2nd Middlesex is worthy of repetition, as it gives a clear account of the afternoon's battle. "I crawled," he says, "a little way with half my company, and then brought up others in the same manner. The men of the different regiments already on the hill were mixed up, and ours met the same fate. It was impossible, under the circumstances, to keep regimental control. One unit merged into another; one officer gave directions to this or that unit, or to another battalion. I saw some tents on the far side of the hill to our front, and knowing the enemy must be there, opened with volleys at 1,800 yards, when we saw a puff of smoke, indicating that one of the Boer guns had just fired. We lay prone, and could only venture a volley now and again, firing independently at times when the shower of bullets seemed to fall away, and the shells did not appear likely to land specially amongst us. Everywhere, however, it was practically the same deadly smash of shells, mangling and killing all about us. The only troops actually close to me then were a party of the Lancashire Fusiliers inside a schanze, F Company of the Middlesex, and a mixed company of other troops on the left front. A good many shells from the big guns burst near us, and a lance-corporal of the Fusiliers was killed. The only point I could see rifle fire proceeding from was a trench, the third, I believe, occupied by our troops on the right, and looking towards Spearman's.

"Presently I heard a great deal of shouting from this trench, in which were about fifty men. They were calling for reinforcements, and shouting, 'The Boers are coming up.' Two or three minutes afterwards, I saw a party of about forty Boers walking towards the trench. They came up quite coolly; most of them had their rifles slung, and all, so far as I could observe, had their hands up. Our men in the trench--they were Fusiliers--were then standing up also, with their hands up, and shouting, 'The Boers are giving in, the Boers are giving in.' I did not know what to think, but ordered a company of my regiment to fix bayonets. We waited to see what would happen. Just then, when the Boers were close to the trench, someone--whether an enemy or one of our men--fired a shot. In an instant there was a general stampede, or rather a _mêlée_, my men rushing from their position and charging, while the Boers fired at the men in the trench, knocking several back into it dead. Previous to this, a Boer came towards me saying, 'I won't hurt you.' He looked frightened, and threw down his rifle. Immediately afterwards a Boer fired, and there was a frightful muddle. I fired at one Boer, and then another passed. We were fighting hand to hand. I shot the Boer and he dropped, clinging, however, to his rifle as he fell, and covering me most carefully. He fired, and I fell like a rabbit, the bullet going in just over and grazing the left lung. I lay where I fell until midnight. Subsequent to my being hit, parties of Boers passed twice over me, trying on the same trick, holding up their hands, as if they were asking for quarter. But our men refused to be taken in again, and fired, killing or driving them back." Thus it would seem that the Boers were guilty of acts even more questionable than those with which they charged our men.

Early in the afternoon the Scottish Rifles arrived, and were at once thrown into the firing line. They served to defeat the last determined Boer attempt to rush the position, replacing the shattered fragments of the Lancashire Regiments. At the same time mules came up with a supply of ammunition, which had been running low, and with a certain amount of water, which was served out to the wounded. The most critical moment had passed, though the murderous shell fire still continued. So determined were the Boer rushes that at times the enemy came within thirty yards. Yet, as the day went on, and the sun began to sink, ground was distinctly gained.

[Sidenote: JAN. 24, 1900.] _Lyttelton's Attempt to Divert the Enemy._]

[Sidenote: The King's Royal Rifles storm a ridge.]

A second move of General Lyttelton's unquestionably contributed to the repulse of the Boers. Again, of his own initiative, he sent his finest battalion, the 3rd King's Royal Rifles, to assail the eastern face of Spion Kop. They marched by way of Kaffir's Drift, direct upon two precipitous kopjes which rose from the ridge a mile or so from the main summit, the left half battalion upon the western, and the right half battalion upon the eastern kopje. The resolute skill with which they went forward is described as the most splendid feat of the day. The Boer trenches succeeded one another, line after line, along the slope of the ridge; line after line they were carried with swift rushes. Repeated charges with the bayonet were made, but the enemy always fell back before coming to hand-grips. The attention of the Boers being mainly concentrated upon Spion Kop, the Rifles were not opposed with the fierceness that might have been expected; yet their advance was by no means bloodless. They left on the field some seventy or eighty men, but about 5 p.m. they effected a lodgment on the crest, and stormed the two kopjes. At this point, unhappily, they began to suffer from the fire of the British artillery on Three Tree Hill, which, unaware of their success, burst several shrapnel over them. Their position was isolated--between them and Spion Kop intervened a deep valley--and it was difficult to support them fully. They were, therefore, recalled from the heights they had won as evening drew on. They fell sullenly back, indignant at being called off just when it seemed to them that success was within their grasp; yet, in the light of after events, it was fortunate that they were not left at their post of peril. "We were wild at getting the order to retire after getting right up to the top," writes one of the King's Royal Rifles. "We had to come down again in the dark, nearly breaking our necks, falling over rocks and down into deep holes. I did not get back to our camp till 6 o'clock the next morning. I had been sitting all night with a chap that had got wounded, but I had to leave him in the morning, or I should have got captured by the Boers."

Col. Buchanan Riddell, commanding, sits in the centre of the group, with the Adjutant, C. W. Wilson, on his right. Colonel Buchanan Riddell was killed on January 24.]

[Sidenote: [JAN. 24, 1900.]

[Sidenote: Desperate straits.]

Throughout the afternoon few messages and few signals had come from the summit of Spion Kop. The heliographs were shattered by the Boer fire; the flag signallers were struck down by the hail of bullets. Heliograms from Sir Charles Warren asking what the situation was remained unanswered. It was even doubtful whether General Coke or Colonel Thorneycroft was in command. Some time in the afternoon a report came in from General Coke couched in the most ominous terms. It stated that unless the British artillery could silence the Boer guns, it would be impossible for the force to endure another day on the summit, and described the situation as most critical. The report was fully borne out by the personal information of the war correspondent, Mr. Winston Churchill, who had made his way to the top, passing on his climb some hundreds of wounded or dying men. "Streams of wounded," he wrote, "met us and obstructed our path. Men were staggering along alone, or supported by comrades, or crawling on hands and knees, or carried on stretchers. Corpses lay here and there.... There was, moreover, a small but steady leakage of unwounded men of all corps. Some of these cursed and swore. Others were utterly exhausted, and fell on the hillside in stupor. Others, again, seemed drunk, though they had had no liquor. Scores were sleeping heavily.... We were so profoundly impressed by the spectacle and situation that we resolved to go and tell Sir Charles Warren what we had seen.... One thing was quite clear--unless good and efficient cover could be made during the night, and unless guns could be dragged to the summit of the hill to match the Boer artillery, the infantry could not, perhaps would not, endure another day. The human machine will not stand certain strains for long."

The photograph represents the heliographs signallers in the besieged town of Ladysmith communicating with Buller's relief column.]

_Frank Craig._]

SPION KOP DURING COLONEL THORNEYCROFT'S DEFENCE.]

[Sidenote: Confusion of commands.]

[Sidenote: [JAN. 24, 1900.]

News so disquieting proved the need for the most determined effort--even for the presence of General Warren in person upon the mountain, when all doubts as to who was in command would have been set at rest, and the dispirited troops reassured by the presence of their real leader. Instead of going, General Warren signalled to General Coke to withdraw all but two battalions from the summit, placing the men thus withdrawn under what shelter the southern slope afforded, and directed General Coke to come in person and confer with him. General Coke, unaware that Colonel Thorneycroft had been appointed to command, handed over his charge to Colonel Hill of the 2nd Middlesex, as Colonel Crofton, the next officer in point of seniority, had already been wounded. Thus was confusion worse confounded, and the uncertainty as to who was really in command further increased. There was no one in authority; no officer of high rank was there to reorganise the defence and cheer the men; no general to think of the future as well as of the moment. Colonel Thorneycroft, who was actually directing the fighting line, where his conduct was superb, could spare not a moment from the vehemence of the conflict. Worst of all, he did not know that at last guns and sandbags were coming up, with a large number of engineers to complete the entrenchments.

[_Photo by Sir W. Armstrong, Whitworth & Co._

7-POUNDER MOUNTAIN GUN.

Showing how the gun itself takes to pieces. The wheels can also be quickly taken off the carriage for transportation, as shown in the illustration on page 249.]

[_Photo by Miell & Ridley, Bournemouth._

SOME OF THE WOUNDED FROM SPION KOP AND COLENSO.

Photographed on their return to England.]

[_After a sketch by Fred. Villiers._

DAWN ON SPION KOP: SORTING THE LIVING FROM THE DEAD.]

[Sidenote: JAN. 24, 1900.] _Victory Hangs in the Balance._]

It is said by Mr. Churchill that the artillery officers when questioned as to the practicability of moving guns up to the summit, replied that it was impossible, and that even if the guns could be got there they would be shot to pieces. Lieutenant James, of the Royal Navy, however, the officer in charge of the naval guns, replied that he could go anywhere, or at least make the attempt. Accordingly, two of his 12-pounders and the Mountain Battery were ordered to leave for the top. It is Mr. Churchill's opinion that the path was impracticable for field guns, and, as we have often seen, the British mountain guns were of such a pattern and so short-ranged that they could have done nothing against the Boer Krupps, Creusots, and "Pom-Poms." So that, after all, little was lost by failing to send up guns earlier. The movement of the guns did not begin till darkness was closing down. The crackle of rifles still proceeded from the summit of Spion Kop, but the heavy, incessant bombardment had now abated. Truth to tell, the Boers were in the most grievous discouragement. If we had suffered, they had suffered too. All their artillery fire had failed visibly to shake our soldiers' grip on the hill; from the rear of their firing line, as from ours, there was a procession of unwounded but faint-hearted men. Their numbers were less than ours, and their men were worn out with incessant fighting. As night fell, the signs of an imminent retreat were clearly manifest to observers in the Boer rear, at Ladysmith. The garrison made no effort to harry the enemy or precipitate the decision; weakened by hunger, it could only watch from a distance the terrific contest on which its fate hinged--watch and pray. As hour followed hour, it saw shell and shrapnel burst; saw the scurry of tiny figures on the summit of Spion Kop; saw, too, the victorious advance of the Rifles; saw the flight of large parties of Boers, north-westwards and northwards. And then darkness descended upon the doubtful field. But the Boers were in a mind for flight--so much was certain. Some hundreds of their men, as their surgeons afterwards owned, had been killed or wounded, and these hundreds could never be replaced. In fact, that moment had arrived which comes in all stubbornly contested conflicts, when the men on each side feel themselves beaten, and when all depends upon the general. The Boers had Louis Botha--young, brave, active, a born leader of men--who had held a small band steady through the evening, and had even succeeded in bringing up reinforcements. The British troops had no one but Colonel Thorneycroft, and he, weary with twenty-four hours of terrible conflict, appalled by the manner in which the force on the summit had melted and suffered in the struggle, unconscious that the enemy was equally hard hit, and with no knowledge that help was at hand, was in no condition to reach a cool and balanced judgment.

[Sidenote: [JAN. 24-25, 1900.]

[Sidenote: Thorneycroft determines to withdraw.]

In the darkness the firing continued, but intermittently. Straggling and skulking had increased; the trickle to the rear had swelled to a stream; there were even stories of panic and flight, which were eagerly caught up by the Boers from demoralised prisoners. But Mr. Churchill, who a second time visited the position in the darkness, tells us that the mass of the infantry were determined to hold on to the last. Already, however, the fatal decision had been reached. On his own authority, and in despite of the vigorous protests of Colonel Hill, Colonel Thorneycroft had determined to withdraw, though his orders were to hold the position to the last. He could not communicate with Generals Buller and Warren or receive the instructions which, had they only been present in person, they would undoubtedly have given. There was no oil for the signal lamps, a sad instance of the fatal result of the want of that attention to detail which has always marked the great commanders. It added irony to the event that the British Staff down below, in utter ignorance of what was proceeding above--and since the morning no Staff officer had appeared on the summit--was making arrangements for a general assault all along the line, as the retreat began. Many of the wounded had to be abandoned when the shattered companies and battalions, covered by a strong rearguard, withdrew through the darkness, and stole down the precipitous path. One of the bloodiest, certainly the most terrible, of the battles of the war had reached its end.

[_After a sketch by Ernest Prater._

MAJOR WRIGHT DEMANDING POSSESSION OF THE WOUNDED.

The Boers at first refused to allow the British Volunteer Ambulance men to carry off the wounded. Major Wright, who had been wounded at Elandslaagte and was now serving under the Red Cross, persisted in his demand, claiming his right under the Geneva Convention, and finally carried his point in a personal interview with Commandant Botha.]

[Sidenote: Scene on the hill after the battle.]

[Sidenote: JAN. 25, 1900.] _Boer Estimates of Comparative Losses._]

Dawn broke upon the summit, and parties of Boers stole forward to renew the weary assault. But the place was tenanted only by the dead and dying--a vast charnel-house testifying gloriously to the devoted heroism of the resistance. Two hundred British corpses, many torn by shells and dismembered beyond recognition, lay upon the mountain top, and beside them lay many burghers in their last long sleep. "In some of the trenches and parts of the kopje where the fire was hottest," writes a Boer correspondent, "bodies were actually entangled, as if the dying men had clutched each other in the death struggle, the spirit of battle in their souls as they sped from earth. On all sides were mute evidences of the desperate nature of the battle. Dozens of stones were spattered with blood, and empty Lee-Metford shells lay about everywhere by the bucketful, testifying that the English had spent an enormous amount of ammunition. Many cartridge belts were found entirely empty." In one trench, raked steadily by the Boer fire, sixty bodies lay within a hundred feet. And all about was the strange pathetic litter of the battlefield; letters and papers, testaments, battered helmets, broken firearms. Here and there the long grass had caught fire, burning mules and men.

[_Photo by Cribb._

FLAG SIGNALLING.

The impossibility of using this mode of communication was one of the minor causes of the loss of Spion Kop. (See page 297.)]

Even the Boers themselves were strangely moved by the evidence of the heroism with which their as heroic attacks had been encountered. Yet, in their usual fashion, they were not content with the victory which they had achieved, but must needs fall to magnifying it by misrepresenting alike the British losses and their own. They professed to have buried 620 dead on Spion Kop and placed our total loss in killed at 1,000. Mr. Webster Davis, an American official, who had been mysteriously converted to Krugerism at Pretoria, went over the battlefield and pretended to have counted 400 British dead, even after the 620 had been buried. Which, it may be said, only served to show that American politicians do not always tell the truth. Their own killed the Boer official version placed at 51, their wounded at 123, and this, they said, was the "heaviest loss yet sustained by our forces in any engagement." The pretty effort of fiction deceived no one. Though they were elated--and justly elated--at their great success, it is well known that the feeling of satisfaction passed when the losses were counted. One man, Louis Botha, had won the day; had the British army possessed its Botha, what might it not have achieved, asked even the plain burghers. And the time was coming when the British army should find a Botha--and a greater than Botha--a general who had skill to plan, faith to inspire, and capacity unflinchingly to execute.

One of many sad processions which merged into one long train at the foot of the hill.]

[Sidenote: [JAN. 25, 1900.]

The Boers placed the strength of the force which assaulted Spion Kop at half that of the total number of British left dead upon the field. That is to say, they pretended that 100 or 150 men dislodged between 4,000 and 5,000 British infantry, who, by even the Boer accounts, displayed remarkable bravery. It is needless to comment upon the story. Were it true, every officer and man who returned from Spion Kop deserved to be condemned as a coward. The evidence is strong that the Boers were numbered, not by the fifty or the hundred, but by thousands. They made their supreme effort in this quarter, and it succeeded. A word of reproach is due for the ghoulish and horrible photographs of the field of battle which the Boer generals allowed to be taken, and which the Boer Government permitted to be paraded in the shops of Pretoria and Johannesburg.

1. Lieut. Otto (wounded).
2. The Hon. J. L. H. Petre (killed).
3. Capt. Knappe (wounded).
4. Lieut. Bosomworth.
5. ----
6. Lieut. Prettijohn.
7. Dr. Bensusan.
8. Lieut. Steer.
9. ----
10. Quartermaster Clipman.
11. Lieut. Brown (wounded).
12. Lieut. Martins (wounded).
13. Capt. Bettington (wounded).
14. Col. Thorneycroft.
15. Capt. Morris.
16. Lieut. Sargent.
17. Capt. Hendry.
18. Lieut. Flower-Ellis (missing).
19. Lieut. Jenkins (killed).
20. Lieut. Baldwin (wounded).

OFFICERS OF THORNEYCROFT'S MOUNTED INFANTRY. (_Numbered from left to right, and commencing with the back row._)]

[Sidenote: Losses in the action.]

It is difficult to ascertain exactly what were the losses on this terrible day. The official return lumped together the casualties for the week of battles, which amounted to 27 officers and 245 men killed, 53 officers and 1,050 men wounded, and 7 officers and 351 men missing. The vast proportion of the missing were prisoners, but a few were among the killed. Of the men lost, about 200 were killed and about 500 wounded on Spion Kop. By far the heaviest sufferers were the companies of Thorneycroft's Mounted Infantry, which fought with such blind devotion on that blood-stained summit. They went up 194 strong; they returned with only 72 unwounded men. The 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers out of a total of 800 had to mourn a loss of 250, but of these many were prisoners. The Imperial Light Infantry, whose first battle this was, out of 850 men lost 31 killed and 91 wounded or missing. It is typical of the complete disorganisation which the fight produced that the one battalion, the Scottish Rifles, which preserved the best order, could muster only 270 out of 800 men at the foot of the mountain. The reason was, not that its losses were especially heavy, but that in the darkness and confusion no formation could be maintained.

[Sidenote: JAN. 25, 1900.] _Stories of the Wounded._]

The patience, the valour of the common soldier throughout the week, fully merited General Buller's epithet of "splendid." "The men," writes Mr. Treves, the distinguished surgeon with the army, "were much exhausted by the hardships they had undergone. In many instances they had not had their clothes off for a week or ten days. They had slept in the open without great-coats, and had been reduced to the minimum in the matter of rations. The nights were cold, and there was on nearly every night a heavy dew. Fortunately, there was little or no rain. The want of sleep and the long waiting upon the hill had told upon them severely. There is no doubt also that the incessant shell fire must have proved a terrible strain. Some of the men, although severely wounded, were found asleep upon their stretchers when brought in. Many were absolutely exhausted and worn out independently of their wounds. In spite of all their hardships, the wounded men behaved as splendidly as they always have done. They never complained. They were quite touching in their unselfishness and in their anxiety 'not to give trouble.' One poor fellow had been shot in the face by a piece of shell, which had carried away his left eye, the left upper jaw with the corresponding part of the cheek, and had left a hideous cavity at the bottom of which his tongue was exposed. He had been lying hours on the hill. He was unable to speak, and as soon as he was landed at the hospital he made signs that he wanted to write. Pencil and paper were given him, and it was supposed he wished to ask for something, but he merely wrote, 'Did we win?' No one had the heart to tell him the truth."

_J. Greig._]

AFTER THE BATTLE OF SPION KOP.

Whilst the Boers treated our wounded with tenderness they did not hesitate to turn out the pockets of the dead and dying.]

[Sidenote: [JAN. 25, 1900.]

There were many striking instances of gallantry. Captain Murray, of the Scottish Rifles, though wounded in four places, essayed to lead a charge on the Boer trenches, and so doing was shot dead. Captain the Hon. J. H. Petre, of Thorneycroft's, displayed throughout the most determined valour; twice wounded, he remained in his place and was killed. Sergeant Mason, of Thorneycroft's, a crack shot, engaged in a terrible contest with three Boers. One he knocked over at his first shot, the second he mortally wounded, the third saw him and took cover before he could fire again. Five bullets passed through his helmet; others tore his clothes; one at last struck his right shoulder. He changed his rifle to his left shoulder and finally hit his adversary. The Boer fell forward with his head over a boulder, and Mason crawled away to have his wound dressed. In the dressing station on the brow of the hill the army doctors displayed their wonted bravery under fire. One man at least was killed in the surgeon's hands; others were wounded afresh while they were being bandaged.

Among the strange incidents of the day was this, which is vouched for by Mr. Burleigh. While the Boers were attacking the Lancashire Fusiliers, a man in khaki, who looked like an officer, suddenly appeared in one of the British trenches and ordered those holding it to move out of it, as they were of no use where they were. Several obeyed, when they found that he was leading them towards a strong force of Boers among the rocks. "They are friends," said the supposed officer, as the men hesitated. But, fortunately, a private, who had his suspicions aroused, challenged the man in khaki, and, when he could give no satisfactory explanation of his presence, bayonetted him. Nearly all the British party were thereupon shot down.

[_Photo by Colour-Sergeant Morris._

SURVIVORS OF THE 2ND MIDDLESEX WHO FOUGHT AT SPION KOP.

Non commissioned officers transferred to the new 3rd Battalion Middlesex Regiment at Woolwich.]

[Sidenote: The retreat.]

When morning came, Generals Buller and Warren learnt to their surprise and consternation that the position had been abandoned. General Buller's first intimation of the true situation was when a naval officer on Mount Alice gazed through the naval telescope and saw that there were only Boers and ambulance men upon the summit. The general seemed to have grown suddenly older; he looked wearied and depressed. Forthwith he rode out to Trichardt's Drift and at last assumed command. A general retreat was ordered upon the spot; all the troops were to withdraw to the south of the Tugela as soon as the baggage could be moved across.

Fresh from a reverse more disastrous than that of Colenso, the army was yet able to retire unmolested; the bridges themselves were taken to pieces for future use, General Buller being the last man across. On the morning of the 27th the enemy dropped a few shells into the river without effect, and the turning movement was a thing of the past.

[Sidenote: JAN. 25-27, 1900.] _The Army Recrosses the Tugela._]

In his telegraphic report, General Buller especially praised the conduct of the Scottish Rifles, King's Royal Rifles, Lancashire Fusiliers, and 2nd Middlesex. He pointed, too, with a satisfaction which caused deep uneasiness at home, because it seemed to show that the British Army was in very truth a beaten force and had been on the very edge of disaster, to the ease with which the 20,000 British soldiers had been withdrawn to the south of the river.

[Sidenote: Causes of the defeat.]

The causes of the defeat were many. In the first place must be set a faulty military system. The Boers, observes Mr. Churchill, would have placed 300 men on Spion Kop, who, by taking cover and shooting carefully among the rocks, would have suffered but little from the artillery fire. The British generals massed first 2,000, and then 5,000 men upon the height--a target for every shell. The failure to construct serviceable entrenchments has already been noticed, and in some degree explained, but it is possible that if the British infantry had been regularly trained to the use of the spade, the difficulties would have been overcome. The fog was an element by no means favourable to our success; it prevented the troops from seeing where to advance, and gave the enemy time to rally and collect. The breakdown of all organisation and organising power at the close of a day of desperate and prolonged conflict is not altogether to be wondered at.

"If at sundown the defence of the summit had been taken regularly in hand, entrenchments laid out, gun emplacements prepared, the dead removed, the wounded collected, and, in fact, the whole place brought under regular military command, and careful arrangements made for the supply of water and food to the scattered fighting line, the hill would have been held, I am sure," wrote General Buller. "As this was not done I think Colonel Thorneycroft exercised a wise discretion."

In his despatch, covering and commenting upon the various reports, Lord Roberts gave the final and well-balanced judgment of a great soldier. He held that General Buller's original plan for a turning movement had been well conceived and had every probability of success if only it had been executed. He blamed, for the failure upon Spion Kop, General Buller, because of his "disinclination to assert his authority and see that what he thought best was done"; Sir C. Warren, because of his "errors of judgment" and "want of administrative capacity," and because he had not himself visited the summit in the hours of crisis; and Colonel Thorneycroft, because of his "unwarrantable and needless assumption of responsibility." But the nation will not forget that while the gravest mistakes were made, they were made by generals who were brave, patriotic Englishmen, under the stress and anxiety of conflict. It is painful to have to record the fact that the man who was probably least to blame was the one singled out for punishment. Colonel Crofton was retired from his command, because of the brief message he had signalled to headquarters announcing the dangerous position on Spion Kop. Some months later, after the publication of the despatches, Sir C. Warren was recalled from Natal and given an administrative post in Griqualand West.