“Sterkstroom, December 18.
“Since concluding my letter, this afternoon, in which I endeavoured to describe and to some extent account for the disaster which we have experienced, it has occurred to me that a narrative of my own adventures during the eventful 10th of December, and the night of the 9th, might be interesting to some of your readers. The infantry marched off at 9.15 p.m., and, as we were unwilling to give our horses unnecessary fatigue by a long march at infantry pace, two other correspondents [My assistant, Mr. Hallimond, and Mr. Adams of the Exchange Telegraph Company] and myself waited half an hour with the intention of accompanying the artillery. The latter, however, not being ready to move so soon as we had expected, we followed after the infantry, whom we supposed to have proceeded by the Stormberg road, which runs in a northerly direction from the town of Molteno. We did not hurry ourselves, but rode at a leisurely pace, making about five miles an hour. At the end of a little more than an hour and a quarter we began to wonder why we had not overtaken the column, and shortly after one of us dismounted, lit a match, and examined the road in search of footprints. There was no fresh ‘spoor’ whatever, of horse or foot, except the tracks of one cart; all else was quite stale. What, then, were we to do? That we were on the direct road to Stormberg was certain, and also that this road was the one which we had been informed would be used by the column. Naturally, we concluded the infantry must have moved off the road by some Kaffir path which we had failed to notice. After a brief consultation we decided to return and meet the artillery; and this we did in some haste lest they also might perhaps elude us. At the end of about two miles we heard wheels, and, supposing the sound to herald the approach of those whom we sought, we halted and dismounted to await their arrival. To our surprise the supposed artillery turned out to be the hospital and bearer company, with sundry ammunition wagons, a Maxim gun, and other odds and ends. At the head of this conglomeration rode Colonel Edge, R.A.M.C., to whom I addressed myself. He had been ordered, he told me, to ‘follow the artillery’ and he was naturally astonished when I explained to him that he was actually following nobody. At this juncture there arrived two sergeants of the Cape Mounted Police, who were likewise under the impression that they were following the detachment of their own corps. From these we learned that the nearest Boer laager was about two miles beyond the point from which we three correspondents had just returned. The time was now 11.30 p.m.
“After a consultation it was agreed that we should ride back to Molteno and report to Lieut.-Colonel Waters, D.A.A.G., who had been left in command, and from him learn what was to be done. It was at least obvious either that the column had taken the wrong road or else that the detachment which we had encountered had lost its way. The moon had now set, and we could not ride very fast. However, at the best pace that we could muster we hurried back to Molteno, the police who accompanied us examining the tracks they knew of, so as to detect the spoor of the column in case it had anywhere left the road. Our impression, however, was that the troops must have taken the Steynsburg [This was our view, but not that of the police. The latter, knowing the country, were of opinion that the force had inclined eastwards not westwards, for the reason that the east side of Stormberg offered the least difficult line of attack. This reasoning was absolutely sound, but as regards the direction taken by the column the police were of course mistaken.] road direct from Molteno, and this we eventually found was the case. It may here be mentioned that Molteno is generally placed wrong on the maps of South Africa. It is the first station south of Stormberg Junction, from which it is nine miles distant. Having arrived at Molteno Station, we speedily roused Colonel Waters and explained the situation. One of the chief employes of the Intelligence Department was present, and he assured the colonel, from our description of where we had been, that the detachment was on the right road. Naturally, therefore, Colonel Waters could do no more than request us to tell Colonel Edge to proceed. In short, the officer left in command at Molteno was not i aware, nor was his civilian assistant in the Intelligence branch, that the general had changed his plans and elected to march by the westerly route.
“We felt very small and very much annoyed. We had deliberately undertaken a task which involved adding twelve miles or more to our night's journey— for nothing—and, what was worse, we had no idea where to find General Gatacre's troops. However, there was nothing for it but to return to Colonel Edge, as we had promised, so away we went. Within a mile and a half we met the entire detachment marching back towards Molteno! Colonel Edge and those with him, instead of remaining where they were until we returned, had decided that they must clearly be on the wrong road, and they preferred therefore to anticipate the order to return which they expected us to bring. This gave the wretched mules an extra six to seven miles* work. Once more the column reversed and set out for the second time towards Stormberg.
“Leaving the wagons to follow at their own pace, we trotted forwards, accompanied by the policemen as a sort of advanced guard. Just before we reached the furthest point to which we had attained on the previous occasion we heard wheels and voices from the westward, and, riding up, found one white and four black policemen with two mule wagons, one of which carried the reserve ammunition of the Northumberland Fusiliers.
In answer to our inquiries, the constable, who did not strike me as an intelligent man, stated that he had lost the column in the dark and had struck across the veldt so as to find the main road—and, in short, here he was.
“The time was now 2.30 a.m., and it was decided to wait where we were until dawn. The drivers of the wagons were told to outspan and feed their mules.[ The hospital and other mules were not outspanned, but only those of the two wagons just mentioned. A staff officer who had, like the rest, lost the main body in the dark, had meanwhile joined Colonel Edge, and declined to permit this very necessary rest being given to the animals. His reason was that we might be attaoked. In vain I pointed out that in such a case the wagons would be captured no matter what he did, and that even supposing a few minutes might make the difference, it was better to risk this than to make a certainty that the mules should be unfit for work during the coming day. Nor was this all. There was an excellent opportunity to water the animals after daybreak, but it was neglected—with the usual results.] At 3.45 we got ready our horses, and, accompanied by the police, cantered forward to reconnoitre. The police sergeants went to the westward, whilst the three correspondents and four blacks went east at first, and then, working gradually north and west, on hearing the firing to our left front, we cautiously approached the Boer positions amongst the kopjes west of Stormberg. By 4.30 we had clearly located the scene of the fighting, upon which I sent back one of the blacks who knew the road to tell Colonel Edge what we had discovered, and to guide the lost detachment into the region where its various contingents would find their proper spheres of usefulness. The black faithfully and successfully performed his task, and consequently the wounded men eventually had one ambulance, otherwise there would have been none. A civilian, whose name I regret having forgotten, drove out with a Cape cart from Molteno and did excellent service, disregarding his own safety and deliberately remaining for many hours under shell-fire conveying wounded men from the rear.
“But to return to my story. Having duly sent off the black to Colonel Edge, we continued upon our way, winding in and out amongst the kopjes opposite to those along which we could see the Boers hurrying along towards the scene of the fight. So intent were they upon this that they disregarded or failed to see us. At all events, we were only once fired at throughout our progress from opposite the centre of their position until we passed round the western flank, and there joined the right of Gatacre’s troops on the defensive position to which we had observed them retiring. Up to this point we had no reason to suppose that any greater evil had happened than that the attack had failed. For this we were in a measure prepared, as the firing had not commenced until after daylight and had not been very heavy. We therefore supposed that, having arrived late, our people had found the enemy wide awake, and had merely done some little skirmishing in order to disengage themselves. The regular and leisurely mode of retirement which we had observed naturally encouraged us in this belief. As I stood under shelter of a friendly boulder on top of a convenient kopje watching the retirement, I almost forgot my disappointment at the failure which it indicated in my admiration for the manner in which it was being carried out.
"A few hundred yards before we reached the right of our firing line on the ridge of low kopjes where the defensive position had been taken up, we met Lieutenant Radcliffe’s [Devon Regiment, and since promoted captain]. section of Captain Amphlett’s company of mounted infantry galloping forward to seize a favourable covering position further to the right of the British force. This proved an excellent move. The line of retreat for our men was on the circumference of a semicircle, the centre point of which, together with the entire diameter, was in the hands of the enemy. The resistance offered by the mounted infantry for a long time prevented the enemy from utilizing some of the most favourable ground that would otherwise have been at his disposal upon our exposed flank. Biding up on to the ridges I met Captain Biddell, of the Northumberland Fusiliers, whose company was deployed along the crest line, and at his request cantered further to the right in order to ascertain whether some men whom he had observed coming back towards that part were actually arriving, he having lost sight of them. Just as 1 reached the kopje, which had hitherto hidden them from view, I came upon the party coming in all right, so was able to return and reassure Biddell as to their fate. Little, however, did either of us then realize that not less than 500 men, in addition to the killed and wounded, were boxed up in a trap and were shortly to be made prisoners. The few regarding whom we were at the moment interested, represented merely a tiny fragment that had succeeded in breaking loose.
“It was curious how few at this time seemed to have grasped the fact that we were in an extremely tight place, but by degrees it dawned upon us. I talked for some time with the men of the Northumberland Fusiliers who were lying down in quarter column about 200 yards in rear of the ridges, my. object being to get the soldiers idea about what had taken place. That there had been very bad luck, and that they wished that they themselves had been in front at the time, seemed to be the only ideas prevailing. That there might be any further danger or difficulty did not seem to have crossed their minds. By degrees, however, from what I heard from various officers, I came to understand that we had had a very serious beating, and that more excitement would assuredly follow. Accordingly, I rode back towards the ridges, intending to have a good look round and obtain some notion of the general situation. Just, however, as I arrived, the troops received the order to retire on Molteno, and various local matters put general considerations out of my head. First there was a sergeant of the Northumberlands who dislocated his ankle amongst the boulders, and immediately afterwards there was a young subaltern of the Irish Rifles, named Stevens [ Lieutenant Stevens was wounded during the retirement to the ridges. He was rescued by Second.Lieutenant Duncombe-Shafto of the Northumberland Fusiliers, and two privates, whom the latter oalled to his assistance. When my letter was written I was not aware of this, and supposed that Lieutenant Stevens had just been wounded on the ridges where I first saw him.] who had been shot through both lungs. The latter, under the circumstances, naturally interested me most; but my relations with the former resulted in an amusing incident which is worth telling, and to which I shall therefore refer presently. Meanwhile, the career of Lieutenant Stevens was remarkable. From the ridge he walked down for several hundred yards, supported by two men of his regiment. Then for about three-quarters of a mile four riflemen carried him in a blanket. From the blanket he was transferred to an ammunition wagon, upon which he was carried about a mile or more. His next conveyance was a hospital stretcher, and, finally, after a still longer interval, he reached the ambulance. Nothing but the marvellous pluck and endurance of the man could have saved him. Hurt as he was, nine men out of ten would have sunk from exhaustion. But Stevens had always a cheery smile as one rode up to see how he was getting on, and as he jolted along upon the ammunition wagon he laughed heartily when I told him how the black police who had been with me in the morning had deserted me in order to steal Boer horses that had stampeded during the firing. I was delighted to hear yesterday, when the P.M.O. returned from Queenstown, that Stevens is doing well and likely to recover. The sergeant also, I was rejoiced to learn, had reached the hospital. I was afraid that, after all, he might have been left on the road for reasons that will presently be explained.
“From the ridges this sergeant rode my horse to the rear with strict injunctions to send it back immediately, so soon as some other means of conveyance had been reached. My meaning, of course, was that a mounted man should lead back the horse. But it so happened that when my friend the sergeant caught up the ambulance the horse was handed over to some man or other belonging to I know not what, but, at all events, a man who had no rifle. This worthy, finding himself in possession of a horse, preferred to ride it himself to returning it to its rightful owner—and he rode it accordingly. Retribution, however, was speedily to fall upon him. Taking a short cut round a kopje, I intercepted him when emerging from a defile and had my revenge. Observing that he was unarmed, I thrust into his unwilling hands the rifle I had taken from the sergeant, and also made him take over a couple of handfuls of ammunition which I produced from my pockets. He had made me walk perhaps two miles with a rifle, but in the end he himself had to tramp twelve, carrying the same weapon into Molteno! It was, perhaps, two hours later when I again met my sergeant. Major Lilly, R.A.M.C., had asked me to ride forward to catch the ambulance, and, having turned out of it any men who could bear travelling on carts or wagons, to bring it back to pick up some bad cases in rear. Amongst those whom the non-commissioned officer in charge of the ambulance caused to dismount was my sergeant, who inquired anxiously after his rifle. I reassured him as to this, and then left him sitting at the side of the road whilst I returned with the ambulance. When riding back once more I did not see him, so assumed that he had been picked up, but was much troubled about him, and naturally thankful when next day I was able to ascertain for certain that he had safely reached his journey’s end. It would have been hard had I, after being instrumental in his being originally enabled to leave the field, been the cause of his being hereafter left behind and made a prisoner.
“During the rest of the march I do not think that any further proceedings of mine are worth writing about. I watched our artillery practice, and observed how excellently our mounted troops anticipated the enemy by taking possession of successive kopjes from which to keep him at a distance. The enemy, moreover, was, I thought, most unenterprising, and, except by the fire of his big gun of position, did but little to interfere with our retreat. This gun was well placed to command the road, and its fire was admirably directed. Fortunately, its shells generally failed to burst, and I do not believe it succeeded in doing us any damage. Finally, having been with the troops from about 5.30 a.m. until 10.15,1 trotted along for the last couple of miles to Molteno and dismounted at the Central Hotel at 10.45. I have seen in my life one or two ticklish fights, but at Stormberg for the first time I was enabled to realise what actual defeat means. It was, indeed, a case of vae victis. The hopeless exhaustion of the unhappy soldiers was terrible to see.”
