The army marched from Poplar Grove on Saturday, March 10th, in three columns. The 6th Division clinging to the south bank of the Modder River, advanced on Abraham’s Kraal, whilst the 7th made a detour by the south-east through Petrusburg, and the main body followed the direct road to Bloemfontein via Dreifontein. The cavalry for the most part preceded the 6th Division on Abraham’s Kraal. No one seemed to have any idea that a fight was to be expected, and, indeed, when, at 3.45, and about two miles from Dreifontein, we heard the sound of firing to our left front, we imagined that an encounter battle had only just begun, although actually the 6th Division, forming the left column, had been already engaged for several hours, and Kelly-Kenny was now successfully driving in the enemy’s right, which was recoiling upon his centre in front of our main body. As I rode forward, I .found a group of headquarter staff-officers on a hill on the north side of the road close to Dreifontein Farm, and from them learned that only I myself and those who had no knowledge of the situation had been surprised at hearing the noise of battle. Armed with a somewhat sketchy idea of what was going on, I continued onwards to a kopje about two miles north-east of Dreifontein, under shelter of which was the ‘dressing station’ to which a good many wounded had already been conveyed. On this kopje Kelly-Kenny and his staff soon after arrived, whilst to the left front his infantry, continuing their advance, were gradually gaining ground under considerable difficulties. To the right front a battery of field artillery was carrying oh, in the open, after our usual fashion, a rather unequal contest with the concealed guns of the enemy. Just then the Boers began to shell the kopje, and the dressing-station was hastily moved a few hundred yards further to the rear. I had left Jess to graze under the shelter of a steep part of the northern spur, just by the dressing-station, and from behind a friendly boulder on the summit of the kopje I watched the proceedings on our front and flanks. At first things seemed a bit uncertain, and I could not quite make out what our people were driving at. By degrees, however, I realized that a difficulty had arisen, because after Kelly-Kenny had advanced from the Abraham’s Kraal position, driving the enemy eastwards and south, the latter had subsequently reoccupied with artillery a position from which they had previously been ejected. Thus, whilst pressing against the enemy towards Dreifontein, the division was assailed from its left rear by a gun near a red farmhouse on a hill about 2500 yards to the north-east. In spite of a severe fire right in its teeth, and shells plumping into its ranks from the rear, a battalion of infantry was advancing most gallantly up a hill immediately to my front, and I admired their conduct so much that, seeing some men, about thirty yards below me, lying amongst the rocks, I quitted my position in order to find out whether they knew which regiment it was that had attracted my notice. This was a well-timed move. Scarcely had I reached the spot, and asked my question, when a shell from the gun by the red farm burst fair and true in front of the rock under which I had been sitting. Had I been still there, the shrapnel would have hit me first and the rock afterwards. When I again mounted to the top, after discovering that the gallant battalion was none other than that historic corps, the Buffs, I took good care to find a place where I had a rock on either side of me. Such precautions proved, however, to have been needless, since no other shell struck within reasonable distance of my new hiding-place. It was now 5.25 p.m. Ten minutes later, the Buffs had gained the hill, and just then the battery already mentioned changed position towards the north-west, and engaged the enemy’s gun by the red farm. Meanwhile, Lord Roberts’ main body had begun to make its presence felt against the enemy in front of Dreifontein, and the near approach of sunset gave evidence that a decisive issue could scarcely be expected the same evening. At 6.5 Colonel Benson gave orders for the disposition of the 6th Division outposts, and I then left hurriedly in order to find our camp before it became too dark. On arrival at the headquarter camp at Dreifontein, I met Young on foot, his little mare having been wounded, and received a message that our "outfit,’ as the Americans would call it, had broken down,'and was outspanned a mile or more to the rear. It was by this time quite dark, but the spot having been approximately indicated, I had no difficulty in finding the ‘weagon,’ nor had Young, who turned up soon afterwards. Kruger was the cause of the mischief, having had a rather bad attack of gripes, from which he was still suffering. I gave him half a bottle of chlorodyne in a hot drink, and then had dinner. The night passed quietly, and we were by no means surprised to find in the morning that the enemy had abandoned his remaining positions. Our losses had been heavy, about 400 killed and wounded, but those of the enemy had, it afterwards proved, been at least as numerous. Our men buried 102 dead Boers, and a few days later I discovered, accidentally, from Boer sources, that we had not buried all that had been killed.
We continued our march without delay, after burying the dead, to Doomboom, about two miles east of Asvogel Kop, a distance of about fifteen miles. Kruger still inclined to gripes, but managing to get along somehow. We helped him by fixing a tow-rope to the tail of the ox-cart carrying the forage, and by this means accomplished the journey without serious trouble. During the halt en route, whilst our natives were in an adjoining field, cutting some mealies to carry along with us, and we were having a rather late lunch, some one stole one of London’s horses. However, I succeeded in annexing a stray animal of doubtful value, which, indeed, managed to complete the journey, and to eat a hearty feed of mealie-stalks and oats after its arrival, but next morning showed evident signs of approaching dissolution. To meet this difficulty, I hunted round, and soon discovered a very useful-looking bay mare with an awful sore back, and evidently abandoned by some mounted corps, or by the Boers, upon that account. The place was well behind the pad, so there was no cruelty to animals involved by working the mare in harness. Accordingly, Miss ‘Castaway’ was speedily hooked in, and we proceeded on our tray rejoicing.
In the afternoon, we reached Venter's Vlei, where we found a good deal of forage, and Jess revelled in unaccustomed plenty. I was an early arrival, and, after a most exciting chase, secured a nice fat porker. The pig-hunt culminated in the animal being brought to bay, and cleverly taken in the room appropriated as the Royal Engineer telegraph-office. Broadwood and Martyr were sent on with a detachment of Royal Engineers to destroy the railway at Leeuwberg, whilst French, with Porter’s Brigade and Alderson’s Mounted Infantry, advanced directly towards Bloemfontein. The latter was later on reported to have seized a strong position on some kopjes beyond Brand Dam, within about five miles of the town. No serious opposition was encountered.
Next morning, Monday, March 13th, the army advanced at 6 a.m., the transport making good progress over fairly good roads. About 10 a.m., Young and I, as we rode along, saw a Union Jack flying over a nice-looking farm, and visions of bread, eggs, and milk rose at once before our hungry eyes. Nor were we disappointed. The farm belonged to a British settler named Hetherington, who had, it turned out, been born on the estate of the late Colonel C. Helyar, of Poundisford, near Taunton, and the farm had been named ‘Poundisford,’ after the birthplace of its owner. Mr. Hetherington was most hospitable, but when he found that I knew the Helyars, and had often been at Poundisford, he became, if possible, even more kind and attentive. We had the best breakfast I ever ate in my life, including home-made brown bread, with butter that could not have been beaten in the ‘West Country‘ itself. I should have liked to have sat still after breakfast with a quiet pipe; but it was evident that our advanced troops were on the move, and that the day’s march would extend to Bloemfontein itself’ and, indeed, we had not much time to spare. Lord Roberts and the staff, riding at the head of the cavalry, were already within a couple of miles of Bloemfontein, when Jess, after a long gallop, landed me into my place in the procession. The entry into Bloemfontein was greeted by as much cheering as the small British population could muster, and the Union Jack was hoisted with some ceremony at the Presidency, where Lord Roberts established his headquarters. The hoisting of the flag recalled to me the annexation of the Transvaal in 1877, when I took part in the parade of the troops at Pretoria on the Queen’s Birthday, and I looked forward with great hopes of seeing the flag hoisted there once more within a few weeks. This expectation was, however, doomed to be disappointed.
The flag ceremony being over, we adjourned to the Bloemfontein Hotel, and, after the luxury of a hot tub, soon applied ourselves to an indifferent dinner, with an excellent bottle of champagne, ordered in honour of an eventful day.
On Wednesday morning the 6th Division marched through the town. It was a fine sight. The physique of the men and their gallant bearing as they tramped proudly through the enemy’s capital made a great impression upon all who were present. In the afternoon, as some of us sat talking under the verandah of the hotel, an elderly civilian walked up, and, leaning on the rail, gazed intently at us for a few moments, when he ejaculated, ‘By Crumbs’ my name is James Shiels’ you can all go to h’11! Now, which of you is going to fight me ? ‘ The challenger then proceeded to take off his coat and assumed a posture of armed vigilance. That he was pretty drunk need hardly be said. However, after a great deal of ‘ By Crumbs! ‘ and ‘ You can all go to h’11! ‘ the nature of the man’s grievance came to light. With a final commission of all our souls to the lowest depths of a much-adjectived Hades, he shouted that we had ‘ given away Wauchope, the best man that ever stepped.’ Mr. Shiels, it transpired, hailed from the Heart of Midlothian, and the lamented death of the gallant Wauchope was regarded by him as personal matter directly affecting himself.
On Thursday morning I received a wire from Amery inquiring how soon I could start for Kimberley, in order to join the ‘ Mafeking Relief Column.’ I replied that I hoped to be able to march the same evening, and this, after a great deal of trouble, I succeeded in doing. There was a bright moon, and I determined to make a night march. Young, to my great satisfaction, decided to go with me, and amongst the many things to be attended to was the purchase of a horse to replace the little mare wounded at Dreifontein, and not yet fit for work. The result was that Young became possessed of ‘ Bobs.’ We marched at 7.10 p.m., and at 9.30 p.m. reached Bainsvlei, about ten miles west of Bloemfontein, on the direct road to Abraham’s Kraal and Kimberley. Next morning we marched thirteen miles to Leeuwvlei, where we halted until 7 p.m., in order that the horses might graze, and then proceeded onward, about fourteen miles to Abraham’s Kraal. At Leeuwvlei we found a store kept by a very quaint old Irishman named ‘ Billy.’ Probably he had at some period of his existence had a surname, but we could get no further than ‘ Billy.’ This man said that he had been doing a roaring trade. His store had been commandeered to the amount of ┬ú50, but by very judiciously raising his prices he had got back the £50, and more besides. Prom Billy I bought a pair of ‘veldt scoons,’ plainly marked on the soles 10s., but for which he charged me 10s. 6 d., no doubt in order to cover the value of a cup of coffee for which he had declined to accept payment. We outspanned at a deserted farm about two miles beyond Billy’s, and here we secured a couple of ducks, for which we paid by watering the flowers, including some pots indoors. Young also pumped up much water for a sow and her pigs - the surviving ducks naturally participating also in the benefits conferred. Late in the evening we caught up a spring ox-wagon, near Abraham’s Kraal, in which the family of Mr. Otrell, to whom the place belongs, were returning from Bloemfontein to their home. The girls told us many interesting particulars about the fight on the previous Saturday, immediately after which they had been obliged to take flight for fear of the Boers, who had become very threatening. Mr. and Mrs. Otrell had remained at the farm, but had sent the children away. Amongst other things, the children told us how one of them, when our cavalry scouts were approaching the farm, noticed some Boers hiding under the garden wall, evidently waiting-to shoot them. The plucky child ran round by the back and succeeded in warning the men before they arrived within the area commanded by the Boer riflemen. She got back to the house without being seen; but the Boers suspected that warning had been given by some one, and talked of burning the house. Finally, however, they decided to adopt a different course, and placed a gun alongside it, saying that when the Kooineks came up they would be sure to shell the house because of the gun opening upon them from its vicinity. Then Mr. Otrell inspanned his wagon, and sent the children away. The Boer plan miscarried, nevertheless, owing to the line of advance adopted by the British, and the party holding Abraham’s Kraal retreated rapidly in deadly fear of being cut off. The farm thus escaped any injury. The Otrell family is Anglo-German. One son, who was commandeered by the Boers, had been killed at Colenso, and another who had also been on commando, but in the Free State, had just returned home. An elder daughter told me that her husband was with a commando in Natal, and that she had heard nothing of him for nearly three months. The poor soul was naturally in a state of great anxiety.
As we had arrived at Abraham’s Kraal late at night, after 11 p.m., we did not make an early start on Saturday morning, and were content to get away at 9 a.m. Just as we were about to move off, a party of Boers rode up from the other side of the drift, and, I confess, I thought that we were about to find reason for directing our steps to Pretoria instead of Kimberley. My alarm, however, proved to have been groundless. The Boers were quite friendly, shook hands all round, and explained that they had merely come to bury dead whose bodies had been found on the adjacent kopjes subsequently to the fight. They were, moreover, careful to explain that the British troops had not been in any way remiss in their search for and burying the Boer dead, but had simply failed to find them. The party consisted of over a dozen men, and it may therefore be surmised that the number of bodies to he interred must have amounted to half that number or more. The losses of the Boers at the Abraham’s Kraal-Dreifontein fight must consequently have exceeded those of the British, for it may reasonably be conjectured that there were, at least, three wounded for every man killed. Upon this basis 102 + 6 = 108 killed must have 324 wounded added to it in order to get an estimate of the total loss say 432 casualties in all Having bade good-bye to our Boer Mends, we set out once more, and halted for lunch at a deserted farm about six miles east of Poplar Grove and close to the Modder River, in which we had a bathe. We had intended to cross the river by the Abraham’s Kraal drift; but Mr. Otrell warned us that we might meet hostile Boers on that line, so we had decided to keep to the south bank and cross at Koodoosrand. After lunch we went on, and, as we neared Poplar Grove, the sky looked so threatening that we made up our minds to cross by that difficult drift rather than take the chance of a flood preventing us from doing so at Koodoosrand. This enterprise involved some very hard work. The further bank was very steep, and although Kruger and Steyn could certainly have dragged up the wagon without any great difficulty a fortnight before, they proved wholly unable to do so in the emaciated condition to which hard work and short rations had now reduced them. To cut a long story short, we had to off-load the ‘weagon’ and let the horses drag it up empty. After this we laboriously carried up the contents on our backs, and were not settled down in camp at Sir Henry Colville’s late headquarters until 8.45 p.m. The horses were done up, and so were we, so the idea of making a further trek to Koodoosrand that night was necessarily abandoned. In the morning we caught a stray horse, and rigged up harness, with which we put him in ‘unicorn,’ ridden postillion by Young’s servant, who was a nice light weight. The animal went rather tender in front, having apparently been slightly wounded in the fetlock. He carried on all right until just before we reached our halting-place at Darfontein, about seventeen miles distant, and about eight miles on the Kimberley side of Koodoosrand, where we halted during the heat of the day. The house at Koodoosrand, where General French had had his headquarters, had been gutted since we left it, the whole of the really dainty furniture having been ruthlessly destroyed. Whether this was the work of Kaffirs, or whether the owner was a pro-Britisher and his house had therefore been destroyed by Boers, I cannot say; at all events, neither here nor elsewhere along the route could the widespread damage have been caused by our troops, since none had revisited the ground since the advance of the army, when everything, indoors at all events, was left uninjured. Fences required for firewood had very naturally been pulled down in many places, and against this the most rabid sentimentalist could scarcely raise any serious objection.
From Darfontein we trekked next morning, Monday, 19th, to Kimberley, a distance of about eighteen miles. This journey was a very tedious one. Kruger was a hopeless wreck, but a strong artillery horse that we were fortunate enough to secure furnished an excellent means of overcoming the difficulty, as well as providing an excuse for Kruger’s admission to the sick-lines at the Remount Depot at Kimberley. I consented to forego the ‘ salvage ‘ due to me upon account of the Government horse brought in, upon condition that Kruger should be admitted to the sick-lines. This arrangement suited both parties to the transaction. The horse that we had caught was no doubt one of those that had fallen out during General French’s relief operations, and had had time to achieve a fair recovery on the excellent grass between Koodoosrand and Darfontein.
It was a great disappointment to find, after the haste that we had made to leave Bloemfontein, that the ‘Mafeking Belief Column’ had not as yet assumed any tangible shape. However, as my horses all needed rest, there was some consolation, and meanwhile a few days’ good feeding at the hospitable Kimberley dub did not seem likely to do otherwise than prove beneficial to ourselves, after a fairly long spell of roughing it.
I took a trip down to De Aar in order to see my son, who had just arrived from England with his militia regiment, and also bought a big grey horse’ Kruger’s condition being for the time hopeless. I named the new animal " Cronje,’ after the bay pony which I had transferred to Landon, and was well satisfied with him. Meanwhile we awaited events, and continued to do so until March 3, when we marched with Lord Methuen’s Column to the Boshof district, there being no apparent prospect of the Mafeking Belief Column being ready to start for some considerable time.
