We turn now to another part of the field of operations, and the place that demands our attention is Sterkstroom. Here, following the disaster to the Northumberland Fusiliers, there was a long halt. General Gatacre could not advance without reinforcements. Those reinforcements were not for a long time forthcoming, and all that he could do was to keep that part of Cape Colony clear of the enemy, and ultimately join hands with General French.
Christian Workers at Sterkstroom.
But these long pauses between actual engagements gave the opportunity for Christian work, and General Gatacre's camp at Sterkstroom was besieged by a large number of Christian workers. In addition to the recognised chaplains the Soldiers' Christian Association, represented by Messrs. Stewart and Denman, had their large green tent, and pursued their usual work with much success. The Salvation Army was also in evidence, and their captain and lieutenant rendered capital service, especially in the open air. Mr. and Mrs. Osborne Howe, well known in South Africa for their devoted work, had another tent, splendidly fitted up, and known as the 'Soldiers' Home.' Mr. Anderson, an Army Scripture Reader from Glasgow, was also very useful. The Anglican and Wesleyan chaplains both had tents, in which they carried on their work incessantly. Captain England started a branch of the A.T.A., and worked it till he died. And so, what with the workers living in camp and others paying flying visits to it, the call to repentance was loud and long, and no soldier at Sterkstroom was left without spiritual ministration.
Comforts for the Troops.
And not only did the spiritual interests of the soldier receive attention--the workers bore in mind that he had a body as well as a soul. All Christian South Africa bore that in mind. From far and near came presents for the soldiers. Churches gave collections for that purpose; ladies' sewing circles sewed to buy them comforts; business firms sent donations of goods; comforts, aye, and even luxuries, poured into the camp, and while in other parts of the field our men were on half or quarter rations, in the camp at Sterkstroom there were fruit distributions night by night. Fresh butter and eggs came from the ladies of Lady Frere and other places. Stationery, almost ad libitum, was supplied. So that, notwithstanding rain and wind and many other discomforts, on the whole the troops at Sterkstroom managed to pass a cheerful time. Hardships were before them, death was both behind and before. Enteric fever was already dogging their steps, but still, compared with many of their comrades, they might indeed 'rest and be thankful.'
The Soldiers' Home at Sterkstroom.
Let us first of all glance at Mr. and Mrs. Osborne Howe in the midst of their work. It is the opening of their Soldiers' Home. The date is Thursday, February 15. About two thousand men are present at the opening ceremony, and the general and his staff are also there. The assemblage is thoroughly representative. There are the war correspondents of the different papers; the chaplains of the Division; the Rev. Thomas Perry, Baptist minister from King Williamstown; 'Captain' Anderson and 'Lieutenant' Warwicker of the Salvation Army; the workers of the Soldiers' Christian Association, as well as of the Soldiers' Home; and last, but not least, the ladies of the nursing staff from the Hospital and Soldiers' Home. The band of the Northumberland Fusiliers is also present to delight the company with its music. All sorts of good things are provided by the generous host and hostess to delight the most fastidious appetite--if there is such an appetite upon the veldt.
The general is in his happiest mood. He thanks the friends of King Williamstown and Mr. and Mrs. Osborne Howe for their noble gift to his men.
The S.C.A. Tent Services.
The Soldiers' Christian Association had their tent splendidly fitted up, as all their tents are. But it was most unfortunate. Twice was it blown down by fierce sandstorms, and on the second occasion the tent-pole was broken beyond repair. A tree was, however--not commandeered, but--bought. Handy men of the Royal Engineers speedily reduced its size and placed it in position, and there it stood braving its native winds.
In this tent splendid work was done. Night by night men were seeking Christ. The demand for Bibles was great. On one occasion the workers were employed for two hours giving out Bibles and Testaments to soldiers who came crowding round and begging for them. From the first night of its erection the tent was crowded. The workers had never in their long experience seen such a blessed work of grace. Men by the score were delighted to be spoken to about the salvation of their souls.
The pens, ink, and paper, provided free, were a great boon to the soldiers. From three to four hundred sheets of paper per day were given to the men, who, of course, had to make special application for it.
Mr. Denman reports: 'Many whole days we have done nothing but receive in our private tents men who were anxious and troubled about their souls' salvation; others came to us who had got cold and indifferent, because of the absence of the means of grace. These in very many instances, under God's blessing, were helped and restored to the enjoyment of the means of grace and the Christian privileges. One dear Christian man came in, threw his arms around my shoulders, and burst into tears, and said, "God bless you dear men for coming out here to care for us, and to help us on in the Christian life. He will reward you both for leaving home and dear ones. I am sure you have been such help to so many of us."'[9]
Thus was the work of the S.C.A. appreciated, and eternity alone will reveal the good accomplished by its means.
[Footnote 9: News from the Front, April, 1900.]
Christian Work under Mr. Burgess.
The work of the Wesleyan Church at Sterkstroom was also actively carried forward. The chaplain at Sterkstroom was the Rev. W.C. Burgess. At one time he was assisted by no fewer than five Wesleyan soldier local preachers. These were Sergeant-Major C.B. Foote, of the Telegraph Battalion Royal Engineers, a much respected local preacher from the Aldershot and Farnham Circuit; Sergeant-Major T. Jones, of the 16th Field Hospital R.A.M.C.; Corporal Knight, of the 8th Company Derbyshire Regiment; Trooper W.W. Booth, of Brabant's Horse; and Mr. Blevin, of King Williamstown, and late of Johannesburg, one of Mr. Howe's workers.
Parade services, of course, received careful attention, and were largely attended. But such services, however picturesque and interesting, are but a small part of the chaplain's duty. He makes them the centre of his work, for at no other time can he get so many of his men around him; and standing there at the drumhead, he gives God's message with all the power he can command.
But, after all, it is in quieter, homelier work that he succeeds the best. Mr. Burgess, for instance, tells us how he began his open-air work. He went over to the Royal Scots camp, and, as soon as the band had finished playing, stepped into the ring. It might have been a shell that had dropped into that ring by the speed with which all the soldiers cleared away from it! and the preacher, who had hoped he could hold the crowd which the band had gathered, was woefully disappointed. However, he commenced to sing,--
'Hold the fort,'
and he had not long to hold it by himself. Before he had finished the hymn other soldiers had gathered courage, and he had a crowd of two or three hundred round him, and at the close of the service there were many earnest requests to come again.
Thus night by night, in the tent and in the open air, Christ was preached. Perhaps, however, the most blessed of all the services were the meetings of Christian soldiers upon the veldt. Here and there among Mr. Burgess's letters one chances on such passages as this:--
'At 7.30 p.m. eight of us went a little distance from the tents into the veldt, and read the fifteenth chapter of St. John's Gospel together, and knelt down on the grass, and had a happy time in prayer. The lads got back to their tents in time for the first post, when the roll is called.'
Such records as these give us a glimpse of the Christian soldier's life at once beautiful and pathetic. Such intercourse must have been of the sweetest character; and, far away from home and friends, they drew very near to God.
For weeks from this time Mr. Burgess's letters are full of stories of conversion. Now a corporal that he chats with at the close of a hard day's work, now the trumpeter of the regiment, now several together at the close of an open-air service. Thus all workers rejoiced together in ever continued success, and the greatest joy of all--the joy of harvest--was theirs.
But the time of inactivity was over. For weeks reinforcements had been gathering, and the chaplains' work had covered a larger area. It was now time to strike their tents and march. But this unfortunate column was unfortunate still. With the memory of the disaster to the Northumberland Fusiliers at Stormberg still in their minds they marched forward, only to meet with fresh disaster at Reddersburg.
The Disaster at Reddersburg.
Perhaps the best account of that disaster is given by the Rev. W.C. Burgess in a letter to the Rev. E.P. Lowry; and as it gives a vivid picture of a chaplain's work under exceedingly difficult circumstances, we venture to quote at some length from the Methodist Times:--
'On Thursday, March 29, four companies of the Royal Irish Rifles were under orders to go by march route to De Wet's Dorp, and to leave one company behind at Helvetia, which is midway between the two townships. We reached this place on the Friday, leaving Captain Murphy in charge, and the remaining three companies, under command of Captain McWhinnie, reached De Wet's Dorp on the Sunday morning at nine o'clock. We marched through the town and took up a position on the surrounding hills, when all at once we heard firing in the distance, and our mounted infantry were soon engaging the enemy's scouts. About sunset we were reinforced by about 150 of the Northumberland Fusiliers and Royal Irish Rifles Mounted Infantry. Our men bivouacked for the night along the ridges, and I slept with them. About three o'clock on Monday morning our officer commanding received the order to retire upon Reddersburg. At dawn we marched out in the pouring rain. We bivouacked that night on or near a Mr. Kelly's farm, about fifteen miles from De Wet's Dorp. At two o'clock the next morning--Tuesday, April 3, 1900--a man, of the name of Murray, of the Cape Mounted Rifles, brought despatches, informing us that the enemy were in considerable numbers in the direction of Thaba 'Nchu, on the Modder River, and were likely to threaten our advance.
'Murray rode with despatches from Smithfield to De Wet's Dorp, and finding that our column had left, he decided to overtake us, after having rested his horse; but in the meantime some of the enemy's scouts had entered the town, had taken his horse, saddle and bridle, and were making a vigorous search for him, but in vain; and under cover of the darkness he walked out and reached us in the early morning. He came and woke me up, and I took him to the commanding officer. We marched out again in the grey of the morning, and at about ten o'clock a.m. we saw dense clouds of dust rising away in the distance to our extreme right, and shortly afterwards saw horsemen galloping towards us, whom we vainly hoped might be our own cavalry, sent to our relief by Lord Roberts at Bloemfontein; but in a few minutes all our hopes were shattered, when we heard firing and saw our men engaging the enemy and retiring upon the adjacent kopjes, which we at once took possession of, and arranged our hospital, planting the Red Cross flag immediately in front of our ambulance wagons and hospital tents.
'The battle, now known as the battle of Muishond-fontein, commenced at 10.45 a.m. on Tuesday, April 3, 1900, and continued all day. At 3.40 p.m. the enemy's guns arrived on the scene of action, and began shelling us from three different positions. We were completely surrounded by a force of 3,200, under Commandant De Wet, who, according to his own testimony to us afterwards, had five guns, four of which were in action, as well as a Vickers-Maxim. Shortly after the fighting began bullets and shells were dropping, and exploding in close proximity to our hospital. The Red Cross flag had four bullet-holes. Two of the mules, standing in harness and attached to one of our ambulance wagons, were killed. The operating tent, in which Dr. Smyth was attending to a wounded man, had two bullet-holes through it. One tent had four bullet-holes. Part of the seat of one of our ambulance baggage wagons had the red cross on its right side cut clean away by a shell. Pieces of shell struck the wheels of our ambulance wagon, and one of our Cape Medical Staff Corps was slightly wounded in the foot by a segment of a shell while close to the ambulance wagon. We had one mule whilst in harness cut in two by a shell and three mules wounded, so that they had to be shot. One mule was shot while tied to an ambulance wagon bearing the red cross; shrapnel and common shell were fired. It was considered absolutely necessary to cast up a parapet as a protection from the shot and shell fire, and we all threw off our coats, and with pick and shovel worked away until about midnight casting up earthworks.
'The firing ceased at dusk. The men slept in their positions in the ridges, and without either food or water. At eight p.m., hearing that Captain Kelly was slightly wounded in the head, we scaled the heights, and took him and some of his men a little water; but it was very little. Still he seemed grateful. He would not leave his men, but slept with them on the ridges. In stumbling over boulders amongst the bushes on the ridges, whom should I meet but the Earl of Rosslyn, who had escaped from the Boer lines, and had come into our camp in the afternoon. He had rather a rough time of it, for our men, not knowing who he was, and mistaking him for an enemy, fired upon him, but fortunately without effect. He very kindly told me that I might sleep in his buggy, which was near the ambulance party. However, I did not avail myself of his kind offer, but slept near the trenches. Captain Tennant, R.A., our Intelligence officer, came down from the fighting lines at night, and said to the five Dutch prisoners whom our mounted infantry had captured the day before, "You now see how your own men are firing upon our hospital, and if you are killed or hurt it will be by the shells of your own people, and not by ours." They saw at once the perilous position they were in, and asked for permission to dig a trench for themselves, which was granted. The natives also followed suit, and digged one for themselves.
'We were not molested during the night, but the battle was resumed the next morning (Wednesday, the 4th), and was fiercer than ever, until at last it was evident that the position was taken, and we surrendered at nine o'clock a.m. The enemy immediately galloped in, tore down the Union Jack, which they burnt, disarmed our men, and marched them off as quickly as they could in a column five or six deep. They sang a verse of a hymn and the Volkslied (their national anthem), and after listening to a short address from their commandant, they dispersed.
'Commandant De Wet was annoyed at our having dug trenches within the lines of our hospital, and said it was a breach of the Geneva Convention, and that we were taking an undue advantage of our privileges; but when we pointed out to him that it had been done to protect the wounded, some native women, and an old native man and child who came in for protection, and not as a protection to our troops who were in the firing lines, he was satisfied.
'The trenches were dug under a tolerably heavy fire. The enemy captured all our horses and saddlery, some of our kits and water-bottles, and one of our buck wagons marked with the Red Cross. Both the medical officers and I had our horses and kits taken from us, but the commandant assured each of us that they would be returned, but we have not seen them yet. In the evening these two officers with an orderly walked a distance of three or four miles to the Boer laager in the hope of recovering their kits, only to find that the laager had been removed and the enemy were nowhere to be seen. They took my servant, and would not hear of his remaining behind. We were released by Commandant De Wet, who told us to bury our dead and take the wounded where we liked.
Consolation to the Dying.
'Our casualties were ten killed and thirty-five wounded. I went over the battle-field with the ambulance party seeking for the dead and wounded, and came across a man who was dying, and said to him, "Do you know Jesus?" He replied, "Yes, I'm trusting Jesus as my Saviour." I said, "That's right, brother. 'This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners.' 'Christ died the just for the unjust that He might bring us to God.' 'The blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth from all sin.' Do you know me?" I asked. "Yes," he replied, "you are our chaplain," and turning his dying face to me, he said, "Pray for me." I knelt down by his side, surrounded by our stretcher-bearers, as well as by the Boers on horseback, who were witnesses of this pathetic scene, and commended him to God. He then said he was thirsty, and asked for a drink of water, which it was my privilege to give him from the water-bottle slung by my right side. We then laid him on the stretcher and carried him as gently as we possibly could to the field hospital, but in a few minutes his disembodied spirit had left its tenement of clay and gone to answer the roll call up yonder.
'One cannot speak too highly of the unremitting care and attention bestowed upon our dear wounded fellows by the army surgeons. Our officers in the field behaved most gallantly, and were as cool as possible under the most galling fire. The "O.C.," Captain McWhinnie, could be seen against the sky line again and again, walking about amongst his men, directing the defence, and giving orders as coolly as if he had been on parade. While telling his men to avail themselves of every bit of cover he seemed utterly regardless of his own personal safety. The other officers were directing their men in more distant parts of the field, and could not be so easily seen by us. Our ammunition was getting low, and we had no artillery, not even a machine gun, and had a long series of ridges to occupy, extending over an area of three miles, so that it was no wonder our position was untenable. On Thursday, at two p.m., we left the battlefield with our wounded for Reddersburg, where the people received us most kindly and placed the Government school-room at our disposal.'[10]
After burying the dead, and assisting the wounded to Bethany railway station, Mr. Burgess returned to headquarters at Springfontein and gave General Gatacre an account of the disaster. He was then attached to the Royal Berks, as his own regiment was in captivity, and advanced with them through the Orange River Colony.
[Footnote 10: Methodist Times, May 17, 1900.]
'I Must Go to the Muster Roll.'
'He notes as he passes along a pathetic little incident. Bugler Longhurst, who was mortally wounded in the fight on April 4, died soon after, and shortly before he passed away he sat up in bed and said to his orderly, "Hush! hush!! give me my uniform. I hear them mustering. There are the drums! I must go to the muster roll. Hush!"--and sinking back he died.
'The advance for a long time was a continuous battle. Even the transport had a warm time of it. On one occasion a forty-pounder shell struck a transport wagon and exploded, cutting off the native driver's leg as he sat upon the box. The poor fellow showed conspicuous courage. "Don't mind me, lads," he shouted, "drive on." They carried him to the operating tent, and he was singing all the way. Shortly after his operation he died.'
'I'm not Afraid, only my Hand Shakes.'
The Sterkstroom column were fighting at last, and bravely they bore themselves. It was not their fault if disaster dogged their steps. No braver men could be found than those under Gatacre's command. And yet they, like the rest, had a great objection to the pom-poms. 'I'm not afraid,' said one lad, when that strange sound began and the shells came rattling around. 'I'm not afraid, only my hand shakes.'
It reminds us of a story told of a certain officer who was going into action for the first time. His legs were shaking so that he could hardly sit his horse. He looked down at them, and with melancholy but decided voice said, 'Ah! you are shaking, are you? You would shake a great deal more if you knew where I was going to take you to-day; so pull yourselves together. Advance!'
We are not told whether the legs so addressed at once stopped shaking, or whether they were taken still shaking into the battle. But this we do know, that the highest type of courage is not incompatible with nervousness, and that the courage that can conquer shaking nerves, and take them all unwilling where they do not want to go, is the courage that can conquer anything. The 'I' that is not afraid even when the 'hand' shakes, is the real man after all, and the man of exquisite nervous temperament may be an even greater hero than the man who does not know fear.
Sir Herbert Chermside had succeeded General Gatacre, who was returning home, and the column was now joining hands with General French, and coming under the superior command of Sir Leslie Rundle. It was stern work every day, and the chaplains, like the rest, were continually under fire. Services could not be held, but night by night the chaplains went the round of the picquets and spoke cheering words to them in their loneliness, and, day by day, in the fight and out of it, they preached Christ from man to man, ministering to the wounded, closing the eyes of the dying and burying the dead, until at last they too reached Bloemfontein and cheered the grand old British flag.
