Shortly before daylight on Monday, February 19th, we reached Modder River, where I joined Mr. Amery, chief correspondent of the Times, and Mr. Filson Young, of the Manchester Guardian. This was a very pleasant surprise, as I had expected that Amery would have already started to the front, and that I should be obliged to content myself with the company of Arendse and Cornelius. During the morning I bought a useful bay pony from a refugee and named it ‘Cronje‘ also I met Radcliffe of the Devons, who, with my other old friends of Amphlett’s company of mounted infantry from Sterkstroom, had not yet followed Dewar’s with the army. little did we know then that poor Dewar, and that dear boy Percival, had been killed upon the previous day in the absurd attack on Cronje’s position. Others, also, I met at every turn Lieut-Colonel Rochford-Boyd, R.E., and Iieut-Colonel Sharpe of the same corps. Meeting the latter was a real godsend. I was just returning from the purchase of my new pony very hot and thirsty. Sharpe gave me soda-and-milk, to my infinite satisfaction.
At last, all being ready, Young and I started for Jacobsdal, Amery with a despatch rider whom he had just engaged’having started shortly before us, intending to push right on to Klip Drift, about nine miles beyond Jacobsdal, which is itself about twelve miles from Modder River Station. The road was heavy, and Kruger and Steyn a trifle stiff after some thirty-six hours in the train, so that we were obliged to go slowly, the journey to Jacobsdal taking the greater part of three hours. At last, however, we arrived, and at the hotel found Major-General Wavell and the staff of his brigade, as well as a number of other officers. There were no vacant rooms, nor indeed any, except the General's, that had not more than one occupant. The General very kindly offered to sacrifice his own privacy for my benefit; but I thought this rather too great an imposition upon his kindness, and therefore elected to bivouac in a comer of the coffee-room. Next morning, however, I was glad to take advantage of the chance of having a bath in the General's room after he had left it. Such an opportunity was too good to be missed. The air was full of rumours; and in the night a message from Lord Roberts was received to the effect that Jacobsdal might expect attack at any moment. This resulted in my being denied permission to proceed in the morning, and ordered to await a convoy which was to march at 5 p.m. It was what I observed in connection with this convoy that first opened my eyes to the cause of our awful expenditure of horseflesh. At about 4.30 p.m. the mounted escort formed up on the road about half a mile beyond the town, from which the wagons were by this time commencing to issue. After a longish while it at last occurred to some one that the men might as well dismount and they did so. No attempt was, however, made to scatter the horses so as to let them graze. Finally, about 5.45 p.m., the convoy was reported ready to move, and the patrols to cover front and flanks then galloped off to their places with the best imitation of ‘Long Valley‘ smartness that their jaded animals were capable of. The troops had been on the ground for an hour and a quarter, yet it had occurred to no one to send the patrols forward, at a walk, to gain their distances and intervals; after which each should have dismounted and let the horses graze freely. It is because we are bad horse-masters, as much as for any other reasons, that the Boers have proved themselves so much better able to keep the field than ourselves. Throughout the march of that convoy our cavalrymen sat wearily in their saddles. Had they been Boers or Colonials the men would have marched on foot, probably half the entire distance, leading their horses.
My object in proceeding to Klip Drift was to ascertain whether it was indeed true, as I had heard at Jacobsdal, that no rations for horses could be had at the front. Therefore I left everything behind, except what little I cared to carry on the saddle, including a nose-bag of com for Jess herself. My intention was to return and make arrangements at Jacobsdal in the event of this evil rumour proving to be well-founded as indeed was the ease. Young, who felt very seedy, remained at Jacobsdal. At 11.30 p.m. the convoy reached Klip Drift, and after a most welcome ‘tot‘ of whisky given me by Colonel Stevenson, the Principal Medical Officer, I was glad to curl up in my waterproof cape under a convenient bank, with my head in my saddle. In the morning I was handed a note from Amery, telling me that he had pushed on to Paardeberg, to which place Lord Roberts had meanwhile advanced his headquarters and as I quickly ascertained that forage could not possibly be had, the cavalry being already on short rations, I lost no time in setting out on my return to Jacobsdal. General Pole-Carew gave me a welcome cup of cocoa, and, having swallowed also a bit of ration biscuit, I cantered off, reaching Jacobsdal in time for breakfast. There I was fortunate enough to find an old friend, who managed to provide me with a couple of sacks of oats; and Young, who was too ill to proceed, and was therefore returning to Modder, undertook to procure and forward a further supply to Jacobsdal. In addition to the oats I succeeded in looting a big bag of chaff, which Arendse managed to stow in the ‘weagon,' and at 3 p.m. I started once more for the front. At Klip Drift, Kincaid-Smith of the 9th Lancers joined me, and together we persevered on to Klip Kraal, about seven miles further, when we halted for the night close to the Guards* camp. Having arrived late, I did not make an early start next morning, because, being so short of forage, it was essential to let the horses graze. However, at 10 a.m., we marched and reached Paardeberg, about ten miles distant, in good time for lunch. Here I met Major Rimmington, whom I had last seen at Rensburg. He was tired and hungry, and gladly joined me in a fierce attack upon ‘bully-beef‘ and biscuit. Shortly afterwards Amery appeared, and his satisfaction at once more enjoying the possession of a little more kit than what he stood up in can readily be imagined, more especially as a tremendous thunderstorm commenced about 3 p.m., and the shelter of the ‘weagon‘ became very welcome.
From Amery I heard a good deal about the disastrous fight of the 18th, and the terrible losses so needlessly incurred. The point which struck me most was the evident fact that the disposition of the attacking force was such that, whilst incapable of doing much harm to the enemy, it needed only that the two brigades chiefly engaged should gain ground to their respective fronts, in order to ensure that they should fire heavily into each other over the heads of the Boers! Let it be granted that for some reason, which has never been satisfactorily explained, an attack was necessary yet even this does not excuse its being badly organized and directed. The lives of the gallant Colonel Hannay, and very many others, seem to have been simply thrown away.
Next morning Amery and I held a council of war. The forage question was a very serious one indeed. The Army Service Corps could not possibly supply us, and without reasonable rations it was obvious that our horses could not work. Eventually we decided that I should return to Modder next morning, and having purchased a Scotch cart and oxen, load it with oats and return with all speed to headquarters. The surrender of Cronje could only be a question of days, or, perhaps, even of hours. Therefore there was no time to spare, and we had need to get ready for a swift march on Bloemfontein. Accordingly I left Paardeberg at 10.50 a.m. Friday, February 23, and after a halt of nearly two hours at Jacobsdal reached Modder River at 5.30 p.m. Jess made nothing of this thirty-eight miles* trek, in spite of the hard work and scanty rations of the past three days. Colonel Rochford-Boyd gave me a dinner, and his staff officer, a most charming young sapper, gave me a shake-down in his room. Poor fellow! he died not long afterwards, I was grieved to hear. Next morning I bought a cart and four oxen, hired a Kaffir driver and a "voor-looper,’ and arranged with the A.S.C. (thanks to Colonel Skinner) for the purchase in advance of as many rations as the cart could well carry. Leaving ‘John’ and ‘Concertina’ to bring on the cart after me, I started at 6.5 p.m. and rode to Jacobsdal, which was reached at 7.10. Here I spent the night, awaiting the cart which, it turned out, had broken down en route owing to rotten ‘yokes‘ having been supplied for it. John, however, marched into Jacobsdal late next afternoon after having triumphantly overcome innumerable obstacles. To proceed further the same night was, however, useless, so I spent yet another evening in the pleasant company of General Wavell and those with him. Sir Howard Vincent passed the night at Jacobs-dal. I set him on his way next morning, but soon forsook him, as the pace of his mule-cart did not quite come up to that of poor Jess. Our cart had trekked from Jacobsdal soon after midnight, and I found it ‘out-spanned’ near Klip Drift as I rode by on my way to Paardeberg, where I arrived soon after lunch. This was the eve of Majuba Day, and rumour had it that something important would happen during the course of the next few hours. For once in a way rumour proved to be a true prophet. We turned into our blankets pretty certain that a crisis would come before daylight and so it did. At 2.45 a.m. tremendous firing broke out, continuing fiercely for about half an hour, and at intervals afterwards until about 5 a.m. At about 6 a.m. came the glorious news that Cronje had asked for terms. At 7.45 a.m. the Boer general rode into camp, and all was over. Half an hour later our despatch rider was galloping hard for Modder with Landon’s cable to the Times. I should have explained that my position at this time was that of assistant to Mr. Percival Landon, who, having hitherto been on the Modder with Lord Methuen, had naturally transferred himself to Lord Roberts’ headquarters when the latter arrived.
After breakfast I mounted Jess, and, crossing the river by the Paardeberg Drift in which I narrowly escaped a ducking – rode by Landon’s desire to investigate what had happened upon the northern bank where the final scenes had been enacted. Briefly this is what occurred. At 2 a.m. the Canadians, supported by the Gordons to their left and left rear, and with the Shropshire Light Infantry extended some considerable distance to their left front - at an angle of perhaps 120 degrees with their line - advanced from their trenches towards those of the Boers at the western extremity of the position. Having arrived within about 80 yards the skirmishers lay down, whilst in rear of them, about forty yards back, the Royal Engineers commenced to dig an advanced trench. Some considerable time before the trench had been completed the Boers opened a heavy fire, which grew more and more intense every moment. Colonel Kincaid and Captain Boileau, with their gallant sappers, persevered, however, and completed the trench with considerable loss, it is true, but yet with far less than might reasonably have been expected. The skill and devotion displayed by the officers and men of the Royal Engineers was the subject of universal praise, and, as regards the trench that they dug, Major-General Smith-Dorrien said to me, " If it had been planned, traced, and dug by daylight, without any enemy firing on the party, they could not have done it better.’ Nor, in my opinion, do these words, literally, involve more than an extremely slight exaggeration.
When the trench was ready the Canadians in front rushed back and occupied it, whilst others, coming from the river-bed, as well as some Gordon Highlanders, who, unable any longer to resist the temptation to take a hand, came up from the rear. The fact that the leading part in the final drama of Majuba Day was taken by a Colonial corps is, next to the actual surrender which ensued, the most satisfactory feature of the entire operation. Congratulations were warmly showered upon the gallant Canadians, and received by them with most commendable modesty. I had a long talk with Colonel Otter, who ascribed the chief honours of the enterprise to Captains Macdonell and Stairs, and gave me many interesting particulars about his regiment. It was a fine feat of arms, and deserves to be remembered through all time.
At first I could not understand how men could have lived under such a fire as the Boers brought to bear in their direction, but suddenly the explanation dawned upon me. Between the Boer lines and the Canadian skirmishers was a thin bouquet of low bush. In the gloom this bush deceived the enemy and caused him to fire high. We often read of a ‘ hail of bullets,’ and such indeed swept past the Canadians and Sappers, but fortunately over their heads for the most part.
The Canadians numbered 500 strong, of whom 10 officers and 110 men belonged to the permanent force, the remainder being militiamen. The physique of the battalion was very fine indeed.
The Shropshires, who supported the attack of the Canadians by volleys against the northern face of the enemy’s position and the flank of the western trenches, against which the Canadian advance was directed, were very fortunate in sustaining only one casualty’ Lieutenant Atchison being wounded. This immunity from serious loss was due to the excellent dispositions of the commanding officer, Lieut.-Colonel Spens, whose skill in the common-sense handling of troops has been so consistently remarkable throughout the campaign. The same quick eye and ready grasp of situations that had already brought Colonel Spens into the first rank as a racquet player, has since served him equally well when leading his battalion in action. In short, he has always succeeded in understanding what was required of him, and in getting his battalion into the right place so as to execute his orders in the most effectual fashion, namely, with the maximum loss to the enemy and the minimum to his own men.
Major-General Smith-Dorrien I found, as usual, filled with joy over the fine performances of his brigade and yet apparently unconscious of having any claim to a personal share in the credit that had been won. Actually, there is no doubt whatever that the excellent results achieved were due as much to the General himself as to the gallantry of the troops under his command.
The condition of the Boer laager and entrenchments was indescribably horrible, and the stench truly awful. Rotting carcases and filth of every kind were everywhere in profusion. How the unfortunate men managed to endure their condition for so many days it is impossible to imagine. The hope of relief no doubt buoyed up their spirits, but the trial must have been a desperate one. A more gallant defence against overwhelming numbers has seldom been made, and probably never under such trying circumstances. It has often been remarked that the Boer prisoners, as a rule, did not seem to be depressed by their misfortunes. This can, however, be easily explained. The men knew that they had done their duty manfully, and that though defeated they were not disgraced. Therefore, it is by no means to be wondered at that when their trials ended, human nature asserted itself in a certain satisfaction at having survived so terrible an ordeal.
The position occupied was theoretically untenable, and many a scientific general would have speedily renounced all hope of defending it for four and twenty hours. However, by dint of digging a series of deep, narrow trenches on both sides of the river, with head cover at intervals along the line, and scooping out cave-dwellings under the banks, a very formidable system of defence had been formed by dint of hard work and the exercise of common sense. The strength of the position lay in the fact that, whilst the defenders could shoot their assailants from whatever direction the latter might approach, the former were themselves well protected against the hostile fire. In short, the essential principles of a purely passive defence had been fully observed. The offensive-defensive does not suit the Boer character at any time, and in the present case it was impracticable, owing to the immense numerical superiority of the attackers. But for the sanitary difficulties of the situation, the Boers might have held their post as long as provisions and ammunition lasted. The attack delivered by the Canadians, indeed, succeeded in precipitating the surrender; but a strong counter-attack would probably have proved successful and by no means costly if not pursued too far.
At 6 p.m. the same evening I was once more on the road, combining two objects in a single journey. Amery had to return to Cape Town, and his kit, small as it was, amounted to more than could be carried on horseback. Secondly, there was Landon’s long telegram to be conveyed to the telegraph-office. Accordingly, Kruger and Steyn were harnessed to Landon’s Cape cart, and I drove Amery to Modder River Station, with the telegram in my pocket. The roads were in a fearful state owing to the heavy rain, and the night was pitch dark. Consequently, we failed to accomplish the journey, and were glad to halt at Jacobsdal at 1.30 a.m. We pulled the landlord of the hotel out of bed, and, after seeing to the horses for whom, thanks to Young, lots of forage had arrived at Jacobsdal we had some food, and then slept in a sort of scullery, the coffee-room being already full to overflowing. At 6 a.m. we got away, after a scanty breakfast, and reached Modder shortly after 8.30, in plenty of time for Amery to catch his train. Here we found Young already much better ‘ thanks to the care of Mr. Cheatle, one of the cleverest of the consulting-surgeons, and who was for the time stationed at Modder River. During the day I procured some stores for our party, and, having loaded up these in the cart, I set out upon the return journey, reaching Jacobsdal in time for dinner. Here I had a bedroom all to myself, and a comfortable bed. The luxury of this, after so much inocking about, can readily be imagined. Next morning, March 1st, I rejoined headquarters, which had meanwhile shifted camp from the pestilential neighbourhood of Paardeberg to Osfontein, about five miles further east. On the way I bought a pony from a Kaffir for thirty shillings, and, strange as it may appear; found shortly after that it was not worth nearly so much money!
Just as we had arranged our bivouac, and the cookhouse fire had begun to give promise of dinner before sundown, the Quartermaster-General came round in furious majesty, and ordered us to move elsewhere. This, most reluctantly, we did. Our notion was that orders, in the first instance, telling us where to go, would have saved some little annoyance to both parties. However, such things are the fortune of war; and, after all, there is a kind of inexplicable pleasure in possessing a really substantial ‘grievance.’
On Friday morning I rode the Kaffir pony to Kitchener's Hill, from which a good view of the Boer positions about Poplar Grove is to be had. The enemy appeared to hold a line astride of the river, the right being on the Leeuw Kop upon the north bank, and the left, running south-east, terminated in a bunch of plumpudding-shaped small kopjes, called by some the ‘Seven Sisters.’ Boers at work making entrenchments were plainly visible. In the evening, Young arrived from Modder looking fairly fit, and joined our party which was thus raised to four including Landon, myself, Young, and the despatch-rider, an American journalist named Unger.
At this time the bad weather interfered terribly with the prosecution of the campaign. Obviously the sooner Lord Roberts could attack the enemy in front of him, the less time would the latter have to strengthen his position and to receive needful reinforcements. But it would have been useless to make any serious move forward until the supply question had been solved and the army could follow up its success by a fairly continuous advance to Bloemfontein. Sunday, March 4th, was fearfully wet, and the roads, already cut into ruts a foot deep, became in places almost entirely impassable. Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday I amused myself riding about amongst our outposts. On Monday I crossed over by Koodoosrand Drift, and had a look at things on the north bank of the river, and on Tuesday, after having watched a skirmish between a party of Australians and a Boer patrol, I visited the Mounted Infantry camp, where I met Colonel Alderson as well as several of my old Mends of the Sterkstroom days. Radcliffe had succeeded ‘ The Squire ‘ in the command of the Southern Company, the latter having taken over the battalion from Colonel Alderson who had been promoted to the command of a brigade. It was the first time I had seen any of them since the fatal 18th of February, and sadly one missed poor John Dewar and little Percival. The others were all as nice as ever; but they had not forgotten their dead comrades ‘nor had I. On my way back to camp I rode some distance with that smartest and keenest of cavalry soldiers, Lord Airlie, who was riding round the outposts. Few better men than he have died during this war.
In the evening the whole of the Cavalry Division, with Royal Horse Artillery and Mounted Infantry, moved from about Koodoosrand to Osfontein camp. This was sufficient to let us all know that the army would advance next morning against the enemy, and that the turning movement in connection with it was to be on the largest possible scale and obviously directed round the enemy’s left upon the latter point Lord Roberts had no alternative.
