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1900 - Diary of the siege of Mafeking by Edward Ross

Thursday, 22 February

We were very much surprised this morning on waking to find the bally Boers had again shifted their overgrown toy, the big gun, and replaced her on the east, within a few hundred yards of her previous position. They soon found out what little damage they had been doing on the western side, so brought her back, we expect to give us gyp tomorrow, that being the anniversary of the independence of the Free State. What a pity it could not be by way of retaliation the day on which the country becomes a state of the past. It may be possible that our troops are not far off Bloemfontein and a big battle imminent; if so may it please God to grant success to our men.

Today, I think, with the exception of Sundays has been the quietest since the siege began, and has been the first and only day, with the same exception, since the arrival of Big Ben, that this gun has not fired a shot; the reason of this can hardly be understood, as she was placed, loaded and sighted early this morning and two or three times during the day they could be seen elevating and directing her on to the centre of the town. Is it possible that something may have gone wrong with it during the transporting of his mightiness across the veldt?

Another lamentable although idiotic and foolish accident happened today. A man named Miller, Protectorate Regiment, literally blew himself to pieces endeavouring to unload an unexploded 94-pound shell. It is said that he was picking out the fulminite with a screwdriver. His head was blown completely off his shoulders and bits of his limbs are still missing. He was buried this evening, together with a poor young fellow named Cathcart, from Early’s corner, who died in the hospital from supposed typhoid. It seems to me the hospital is about the last place to go to if one is seedy. All that go there seem to go to stay and die without anybody knowing what is the matter. We thought the Board who were appointed for investigation were going to make some improvements, but it appears unfortunately their power is very much curtailed and I understand they intend resigning unless their hands are left untied. C.S.O. at the bottom of this. Can only explain afterwards.

Today at 12 o’clock Sergeant-Major Looney was degraded and stripped of his rank on the Market Square before representative units of all corps. Lord Edward, in field war paint, read out the verdict, 5 years’ hard labour, and then to be reduced to a private and dismissed the service with ignominy. His Lordship then instructed Sergeant-Major Merry, B.S.A.P., to remove the star which distinguished his rank. What a fool the man was, after 18 years service, to lose pension, position, everything in the world for a few paltry sovereigns.

In attempting a photo I very carefully managed in the hurry of the moment to take two pictures on one plate, and so botched the lot. When I found this out, have you any idea what I said ?

The food for natives being so scarce, the Colonel deemed it advisable to send away north any strange natives who were not Baralongs, and last night some Shangaans endeavoured to get through the Boer lines, but were unsuccessful, several of them being shot by the enemy. It is very hard luck for them, having no other choice but that of two deaths, one being shot by the Dutchmen or that of staying here to slowly starve to death. The first I should think much the more preferable.

One of the enemy, a German officer by his uniform and appearance, was very skilfully shot at the brickfields yesterday by one of our Cape Boys. It seems he got out of their advance working trench, only about 120 yards from ours, for the purpose of directing their work, and either not knowing we were so close, or else thinking our men were not there, and so offered an excellent mark for our sharp-shooters, who taking careful and deliberate aim, bowled him over, and one of the enemy could be heard shouting, "He is moest dood,” meaning he is quite dead. Perhaps their quietness today is accounted for by this, as they never fire when a funeral is on. This sort of thing does not seem like warfare, but more like stalking stembuck or duiker, or waiting for a korhaan to rise.

Big Ben’s record to date is:

1,080 shells x 94lb = 101,520

Over one hundred thousand pounds’ weight of iron thrown into the town by the big siege gun alone, to which to get at the approximate cost must be added the value of about six thousand [pounds’] weight of powder; now add to this the cost of the rest of the ammunition sent at us, and the result would be more than sufficient to purchase Mafeking without endeavouring to murder all the people as well.

This little village has indeed been a big thorn in the enemy’s side. By its unconsidered (by the enemy) resistance, it has detained here thousands of Boers and a lot of artillery and so materially assisted in the protection of Kimberley, the Protectorate, and possibly Bulawayo. Besides all this a good many of them have gone to grass, with daylight let into their dirty carcasses by a Lee Metford patent boring machine worked by B.P. and Co.

I hear (from the man himself) that one of the local war correspondents intends writing a very stinging article against the Volunteers; if he does, it will be manifestly unfair, and playing the game very low, as they have indeed done excellent work at all hours, and in all weathers.

It is B.P.’s birthday today. No chance of keeping it up as we should wish, nevertheless we all tender him our sincere wishes for many more.