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Albert Powe was not only taken POW at Nicholson's Nek on 30 October 1899 when the battery's mules took flight but, after surviving POW life in Pretoria, he was to succumb to Enteric Fever and breath his last on South African soil. Here is his story:

Albert Powe aka Edward Harris

Prisoner of War – Nicholson’s Nek – 23 October 1899
Died of Enteric Fever – Pretoria – 23 June 1900

Gunner, 10th Mountain Battery, Royal Garrison Artillery

- Queens South Africa Medal with clasps Natal and Transvaal to 11871 to GNR: A. POWE. 10TH M.B. R.G.A.

Albert Powe was a bit of a mystery man – for many years he went under the alias of Edward Harris until his deception was discovered. Born in Exminster in the County of Devon in 1868, he was the son of Thomas Powe, a shepherd by occupation, and his wife Mary.

Our first encounter with Powe comes courtesy of the 1871 England census where, aged 3, he was at home in Bowhay, Exminster with his parents and siblings Robert (14), Ruth (9), Harry (5) and Alice (3). This last entry, that of Alice, raises the possibility that she and Albert may well have been twins.

Ten years later, at the time of the 1881 England census, the scenario had altered – Mr Powe had passed away leaving his widow to raise the family as best she could. They were now living at Rouses Court in Exeter St. Paul and the older siblings were all employed, adding to the family coffers. Robert (24) was a Groom whilst Ruth (19) was a Housemaid and Harry (15) a Porter. The twins – Alice and Albert (13) were both still at school.

Having finished his schooling, Powe attested for service with the Reserve Battalion of the 3rd Dragoons with no. 2415 and the rank of Private. For what duration of service he signed up for is unknown – certainly, no mention of any previous service was made when, at Devonport on 4 November 1895, he attested for service with the Royal Artillery. It is at this point that Powe’s intentions and motives began to be a bit murky – instead of attesting with his given name, he elected to follow the path of subterfuge by enlisting with the name of Edward Harris. A quick study of the Deserters Register supplied the answer - an Albert Powe, no. 2415, deserted from the 3rd Dragoons at Canterbury on 15 April 1896. This was six months after he had attested with the R.G.A. and would explain why he was unable to use his given name.

No matter, for the first few years of his life in uniform, Albert Powe was known to the world at large as Edward Harris. His attestation papers also revealed that he was a 24 year old Labourer who had lived outside of his father’s house for longer than 3 years. Physically he was 5 feet 9 inches in height, weighed 153 lbs and had a sallow complexion, blue/grey eyes, and light brown hair. By way of distinguishing marks about his person, he had three dots on his right forearm and a mole 4 ½ inches to the left of his navel.

Having been found Fit for service by the medical officer he was assigned no. 11871 and the rank of Gunner attached to No. 1 Depot of the Western Division of the Royal Artillery. On 10 January 1896 he was posted to the 4th Mountain Battery and, on 16 May of that year, posted to the 10th Mountain Battery, R.G.A. – the outfit with whom he was to spend the remainder of his career with.

After 194 days spent in England, he was posted, with his outfit, to South Africa on 27 May 1896. Before departing home shores he spent a week in hospital at Pembroke Dock between 7 to 13 January 1896 with Eczema.


The 10th M.B. at Pietermaritzburg 1896

Having arrived in South Africa, the 10th M.B. were deployed to Pietermaritzburg where they were garrisoned at Fort Napier, on the outskirts of the city. After a short while there, a two-gun division was sent to Rhodesia, attached to the Matabeleland Relief Force (MRF) commanded by Lt Col H Plumer. Powe was not part of this campaign remaining in Pietermaritzburg along with the majority of his comrades. On 20 January 1897 he was admitted to hospital for 23 days with Enteric Fever – being discharged to duty on 12 February of that year. Not sufficiently recovered, he was admitted once more with the same malaise – on this occasion for a period of 54 days – from 19 February to 13 April 1897. This was followed by 9 days in hospital with Ague – from 17 to 25 November 1898.

On 11 January 1899 the 10th M.B. were sent up to nearby Nottingham Road in the Natal Midlands where Powe found himself the subject of a Court of Enquiry on 5 April 1899. The Enquiry was convened “for the purpose of investigating the circumstances under which 11871 Gnr. E. Harris, 10thM.B. sustained an injury.”

The Court, having assembled, proceeded to take evidence – first up was Harris (Powe), who stated that. “At Nottingham Road Camp on 9thMarch 1899 at about 8.30 p.m. I was walking out of the 10th M.B. Canteen – it was raining heavily, and the ground was slippery which caused me to slip and fall on the ground and in doing so I sprained my right ankle.

There was no one present at the time who saw the accident. I was assisted to my tent by Gnr. Bundy and sent to hospital the following morning.”

No. 92961 Gunner F. Bundy then stated that: -“At Nottingham Road Camp. On the 9th March 1899 at about 8.30 p.m., I found Gnr. Harris trying to get up off the ground outside the 10th M.B. Canteen, I asked him what was the matter and he said he had fallen and hurt his ankle.

The ground was very slippery at the time – I assisted him back to his tent as he could not walk by himself. He was perfectly sober at the time.”

The opinion of the Court of Enquiry was that the matter had been an accident and the medical staff found that “the injury would not interfere with his future efficiency.” Powe had spent 13 days in hospital recuperating from the ankle injury – from 10 to 22 March 1899.

But it wasn’t just on the health front that he was encountering headwinds – his record indicates a poor disciplinary record.

On 27 June 1896, at Pietermaritzburg, he was found guilty of “being drunk and fighting in camp at about 9 p.m.” as well as the use of “abusive language.” For his troubles he was awarded 7 days Confinement to Barracks. Whilst still on C.B., on 2 July 1896, he was found guilty of “breaking out of camp when a defaulter and not returning until 8.30 p.m., drunk.” Another 7 days C.B. was added to his punishment.

On 5 October 1896 he was found guilty of “creating a disturbance in the Barrack Room about 10.40 p.m.” and “making an improper reply to a N.C.O.” This brought with it 10 days C.B. but Powe’s past was now catching up with him – in 1897 he was found to have made a false answer on attestation at Devonport of 4 November 1895 – this, of course referred to his use of the alias, Edward Harris.

Forgiven by the authorities, he sadly reverted to type and, on 17 October 1897 at Pietermaritzburg, was found guilty of “using obscene language to a N.C.O.” and “resisting the escort” for which 14 days C.B. was awarded. Powe, it seems, was building up a head of steam in his perennial defiance of authority – on 8 October 1898 he was “drunk in Barracks about 10.40 p.m.” for which he was Admonished. On 19 June 1899 he was “absent from stables at 4.30 p.m. until found in the Barrack room drunk at 5.10 p.m.” – this bought him 3 days C.B. and a fine of 2/6 (perhaps the authorities felt that a pecuniary penalty would get him back on the straight and narrow). On 13 July 1899, in what was to be his last act of defiance in Pietermaritzburg, he was fined 2/6 and awarded 3 days C.B. for “being drunk and creating a disturbance about 10.15 p.m.”

The 10th Mountain Battery was sent up to Ladysmith on 26 August 1899 and it wasn’t long before Powe was at it again – this time on 3 October where he was awarded 14 days C.B. for “hesitating to obey an order.”

This last intransigence was just weeks before the outbreak of the war in which he was destined to perish. War clouds were gathering on the horizon – the two Boer Republics of the Orange Free State and the Transvaal, long at loggerheads with the British Government over a number of issues concerning the rights of the Uitlanders – mostly men of British descent who were the mainstay of the Transvaal economy – erupted into a declaration of war on 11 October 1899.


10th M.B. showing how invaluable the mules were to their efficacy

The military Commander in Chief, Sir George White found himself in command of a formidable little army some twelve thousand in number. His cavalry included the 5th Lancers, the 5th Dragoons, part of the 18th and the whole of the 19th Hussars, the Natal Carbineers, the Border Rifles, some mounted infantry, and the Imperial Light Horse. Among his infantry were the Royal Irish Fusiliers, the Dublin Fusiliers, and the King’s Royal Rifles, fresh from the ascent of Talana Hill, the Gordons, the Manchesters, and the Devons, the Leicesters, the Liverpools, the 2nd battalion of the King’s Royal Rifles, the 2nd Rifle Brigade, and the Gloucesters. He had six batteries of excellent field artillery— the 13th, 21st, 12nd, 53rd, 67th, G9th, and No. 10 Mountain Battery of screw guns.

With the dawn of the 12th October, the Boer forces streamed over the various borders – the Transvaal Commandos via Utrecht and other parts of Northern Natal and the Orange Free Staters over the Drakensberg mountain range from Harrismith. After the battels of Talana and Elandslaagte, they began to converge on Ladysmith in an almost pincer-like movement and it became apparent that the town would soon be under siege. Largely outnumbered, White realised that his role would be mostly defensive if Natal was to be saved.

On October 27th there were already Boers and rumours of Boers on every side of him. Joubert with his main body was moving across from Dundee. The Freestaters were to the north and west. Their combined numbers were uncertain, but it was already proved that they were far more numerous and also more formidable than had been anticipated. White decided on a risky venture to leave the town in order to give battle, for the mobile enemy might swing round and seize it from behind. Nevertheless White determined to make the venture.



On the 29th the Boers were visibly converging upon the town. From a high hill within rifle-shot of the houses a watcher could see no less than six Boer camps to the east and north. French, with his cavalry, pushed out feelers, and coasted along the edge of the advancing host. His report warned White that if he would strike before all the scattered bands were united he must do so at once.

That night General White detached two of his best regiments, the Irish Fusiliers and the Gloucesters, with No. 10 Mountain Battery (140 men), to advance under cover of the darkness with orders to seize and hold a long ridge called Nicholson’s Nek, which lay about six miles to the north of Ladysmith. Having determined to give battle on the next day, his object was to protect his left wing against those Freestaters who were still moving from the north and west. This small detached column numbered about a thousand men — whose fate will be afterwards narrated.

At five o'clock on the morning of the 30th the Boers, who had already developed a perfect genius for hauling heavy cannon up the most difficult heights, opened fire from one of the hills which lie to the north of the town. Before the shot was fired, the forces of the British had already streamed out of Ladysmith to test the strength of the invaders.

White’s army was divided into three columns. On the extreme left, quite isolated from the others, was the small Nicholson’s Nek detachment under the command of Colonel Carleton of the Fusiliers. With him was Major Adye of the staff. On the right British flank Colonel Grimwood commanded a brigade composed of the 1st and 2nd battalions of the King’s Royal Rifles, the Leicesters, the Liverpools, and the Royal Dublin Fusiliers. In the centre Colonel Ian Hamilton commanded the Devons, the Gordons, the Manchesters, and the 2nd battalion of the Rifle Brigade, which marched direct into the battle from the train which had brought them from Durban. Six batteries of artillery were massed in the centre under Colonel Downing. French with the cavalry and mounted infantry was on the extreme right, but found little opportunity for the use of the mounted arm that day.

The Boer position was a formidable one. Their centre lay upon one of the spurs of Signal Hill, about three miles from the town. Here they had two forty-pounders and three other lighter guns, but their artillery strength developed both in numbers and in weight of metal as the day wore on. Of their dispositions little could be seen. On the dun-coloured plains before the town, the long thin lines, with an occasional shifting sparkle of steel, showed where Hamilton’s and Grimwood’s infantry were advancing.

The scrambling, inconsequential, unsatisfactory action which ensued is as difficult to describe as it must have been to direct. The Boer front covered some seven or eight miles, with kopjes, like chains of fortresses, between. They formed a huge semicircle and they were able from this position to pour in a converging artillery fire which grew steadily hotter as the day advanced. In the early part of the day the Boer guns, worked furiously, though with a want of accuracy. Huge shells hurled from distances which were unattainable by the R.A.’s fifteen-pounders, enveloped the British batteries in smoke and flame.



Up to seven o'clock the British infantry had shown no disposition to press the attack, for with so huge a position in front of them, and so many hills which were held by the enemy, it was difficult to know what line of advance should be taken, or whether the attack should not be converted into a mere reconnaissance. Shortly after that hour, however, the Boers decided the question by themselves developing a vigorous movement upon Grimwood and the right flank. With field guns, Maxims, and rifle fire, they closed rapidly in upon him. The centre column was drafted off, regiment by regiment, to reinforce the right. The Gordons, Devons, Manchesters, and three batteries were sent over to Grimwood’s relief, and the 5th Lancers, acting as infantry, assisted him to hold on.

At nine o'clock there was a lull, but it was evident that fresh commandoes and fresh guns were continually streaming into the firing line. The engagement opened again with redoubled violence, and Grimwood’s three advanced battalions fell back, abandoning the ridge which they had held for five hours. The reason for this withdrawal was not that they could not continue to hold their position, but it was that a message had just reached Sir George White from Colonel Knox, commanding in Ladysmith, to the effect that it looked as if the enemy was about to rush the town from the other side. Crossing the open in some disorder, they lost heavily, and would have done so more had not the 53rd Field Battery dashed forward, firing shrapnel at short ranges, in order to cover the retreat of the infantry.

Amid the bursting of the huge 96-pound shells, and the snapping of the vicious little automatic one-pounders, with a cross-fire of rifles as well, Abdy’s battery swung round its muzzles, and hit back right and left, flashing and blazing, amid its litter of dead horses and men. So severe was the fire that the guns were obscured by the dust knocked up by the little shells of the automatic gun. Then, when its work was done and the retiring infantry had straggled over the ridge, the covering guns whirled and bounded after them.

White must have been now uneasy for his position, and it had become apparent that his only course was to fall back and concentrate upon the town. His left flank was up in the air, and the sound of distant firing, wafted over five miles of broken country, was the only message which arrived from them. His right had been pushed back, and, most dangerous of all, his centre had ceased to exist, for only the 2nd Rifle Brigade remained there. The men had had little sleep and little food, and were being shelled mercilessly as they retreated.

In the meantime what had become of the small column which had, as already described, been sent out by Sir George White in order, if possible, to prevent the junction of the two Boer armies, and at the same time to threaten the right wing of the main force, which was advancing from the direction of Dundee. White’s strategic plan which would justify the presence of this column at Nicholson’s Nek was based upon the supposition that the main army won their action at Lombard’s Kop. In that case White might swing round his right and pin the Boers between himself and Nicholson’s Nek. In any case he could then re-unite with his isolated wing.

The force chosen to operate independently consisted of four and a half companies of the Gloucester regiment, six companies of the Royal Irish Fusiliers, and No. 10 Mountain Battery of six seven-pounder screw-guns – with Albert Powe as one of their number. Colonel Carleton, of the Fusiliers, commanded the column, with Major Adye as staff officer. On the night of Sunday, October 29th, they tramped out of Ladysmith, a thousand men. The column tramped stolidly along, the Fusiliers in front, the guns and Gloucesters behind. Several times a short halt was called to make sure of the bearings. At last, in the black cold hours which come between midnight and morning, the column swung to the left out of the road. In front of them, hardly visible, stretched a long black kopje. It was the very Nicholson’s Nek which they had come to occupy. The force was but two hundred yards from the position, and all had gone without a hitch. And yet in those two hundred yards' there came an incident which decided the fate both of their enterprise and of themselves.

Out of the darkness there blundered and rattled five horsemen, their horses galloping, the loose stones flying around them. In the dim light they were gone as soon as seen. Somebody fired. A sergeant of the Fusiliers took the bullet through his hand. Someone else shouted to fix bayonets. The mules which carried the spare ammunition kicked and reared. There was no question of treachery, for they were led by British regulars, but to hold two frightened mules, one with either hand, is a feat for a Hercules. They lashed and tossed and bucked themselves loose, and an instant afterwards were flying helter skelter through the column. Nearly all the mules caught the panic. In vain the men held on to their heads. In the mad rush they were galloped over and knocked down by the torrent of frightened creatures.

The column was dashed out of all military order. When the frenzy had passed, and the men had gathered themselves into their ranks once more, they realised how grave was the misfortune which had befallen them. Gone were their spare cartridges, their shells, and their cannon. A mountain gun is not drawn upon wheels, but is carried in adjustable parts upon mule-back. Some of the cartridges were strewn upon the road. Most were on their way back to Ladysmith. There was nothing for it but to face this new situation and to determine what should be done.

It has been asked, why did not Colonel Carleton make his way back to Ladysmith at once upon the loss of his guns and ammunition, while it was still dark? One or two considerations are evident in reply. Colonel Carleton and Major Adye knew the general plan of the battle which would be raging within a very few hours, and they quite understood that by withdrawing they would expose General White’s left flank to attack from the forces (consisting, as we know now, of the Orange Freestaters and of the Johannesburg Police) who were coming from the north and west. He hoped to be relieved by eleven, and he believed that he could hold out until then. Thus it was that he marched up Tchengula and occupied the position which he found too large to be effectively occupied by the force which he commanded. The length was about a mile and the breadth four hundred yards. Shaped roughly like the sole of a boot, it was only the heel end which he could hope to hold. Other hills all round offered cover for Boer riflemen. Nothing daunted, he set his men to work at once building sangars with the loose stones. With the full dawn and the first snapping of Boer Mausers from the hills around they had thrown up some sort of rude defences which they might hope to hold until help should come.

They had no way to summon help – the heliograph brought with them, had been on the back of one of fleeing mules. The Boers were thick around them, and they could not send a messenger. An attempt was made to convert a polished biscuit tin into a heliograph, but with poor success. The Boers were thickening round them on every side. At five o'clock the fire began. Two companies of the Gloucesters lined a sangar on the tread of the sole, to prevent anyone getting too near to the heel. A fresh detachment of Boers, firing from a range of nearly one thousand yards, took this defence in the rear. Bullets fell among the men, and smacked up against the stone breastwork. The two companies were withdrawn, and lost heavily in the open as they crossed it. An incessant rattle and crackle of rifle fire came from all round, drawing very slowly but steadily nearer. Now and then the whisk of a dark figure from one boulder to another was all that ever was seen of the attackers.

The British fired slowly and steadily, for every cartridge counted, but the cover of the Boers was so cleverly taken that it was seldom that there was much to aim at. ‘All you could ever see,’ says one who was present, ‘were the barrels of the rifles.’

During those weary hours lying on the bullet-swept hill and listening to the eternal hissing in the air and clicking on the rocks, the British soldiers could see the fight which raged to the south of them. It was not a cheering sight, and Carleton and Adye with their gallant comrades must have felt their hearts grow heavier as they watched. The Boers' shells bursting among the British batteries, the British shells bursting short of their opponents. The Long Toms laid at an angle of forty-five plumped their huge shells into the British guns at a range where the latter would not dream of unlimbering. And then gradually the rifle fire died away also, crackling more faintly as White withdrew to Ladysmith.

At eleven o'clock Carleton’s column recognised that it had been left to its fate.

The men had then been under fire for six hours, and with their losses mounting and their cartridges dwindling, all hope had faded from their minds. But still for several hours they held doggedly on. Nine and a half hours they clung to that pile of stones. Many fell asleep behind the boulders. Some sat with their useless rifles and empty pouches beside them. Some picked cartridges off their dead comrades. The situation was hopeless and, at last, the white flag went up.

From every rock there rose a Boer — walnut-brown and shaggy-bearded, and swarmed on to the hill. No term of triumph or reproach came from their lips. ‘You will not say now that the young Boer cannot shoot,’ was the harshest word which the least restrained of them made use of. Between one and two hundred dead and wounded were scattered over the hill. Then the victors gathered together and sang psalms, not jubilant but sad and quavering. The prisoners, in a downcast column, weary, spent, and unkempt, filed off to the Boer laager at Waschbank, there to take train for Pretoria.


PoW's from Nicholson's Nek arriving at the Pretoria Race Course

An account of how the battle developed from the Boer side is contained in the following extract from General De Wet’s book – Three Years War: -

Until the 29th of October we retained our positions at Rietfontein. On that date General Joubert joined us with a portion of the Transvaal commandos. On his arrival it was settled that the Transvaalers should proceed to the north of Ladysmith and occupy positions on the east of Nicholson's Nek, whilst the Free-Staters were to go to the west and north-west of that town.

A party of burghers, under Commandant Nel, of Kroonstad, were ordered to station themselves on a kop with a flat top, called Swartbooiskop, an hour and a half to the south of Nicholson's Nek. After the battle which was fought on the 30th of November this kop was christened by us Little Majuba.

Just after sunrise on the 30th of October the roaring of cannon came to our ears. The sound came from the extreme end of our position, where the Transvaalers were stationed. No sooner did we hear it than the order to off-saddle was given. I myself asked Commandant Steenkamp, who had arrived the previous day from Bezuidenhoutspas, to go to General Croup's laager, about two miles distant, and to request him to advance to where the firing was taking place. To this request General Croup acceded, and Commandant Steenkamp went there with three hundred men, of whom I was one. Our way led past the kop to the south of Nicholson's Nek. What a sight met our gaze on our arrival there!

The kop was occupied by the English.

This must be ascribed to the negligence of Commandant Nel, who had orders to guard the kop. He excused himself by assuring us that he had been under the impression that one of his Veldtcornets and a number of burghers were occupying the hill.

What could we do now?

Commandant Steenkamp and I decided that we must storm the hill with the three hundred men whom we had at our disposal. And this we did, and were sufficiently fortunate to capture the northern point of the kop.

On reaching the summit we discovered that the British troops occupied positions extending from the southern point to the middle of the mountain.

The enemy, the moment we appeared on the ridge, opened a heavy rifle fire upon us. We answered with as severe a fusillade as theirs. Whilst we were shooting, twenty of Commandant Nel's men joined us and helped us to hold our ground. When we had been engaged in this way for some time we saw that the only possible course was to fight our way from position to position towards the English lines.

I now observed that the mountain top was of an oblong shape, extending from north to south for about a thousand paces. At the northern end, where we were, the surface was smooth, but somewhat further south it became rough and stony, affording very good cover. In our present situation we were thus almost completely exposed to the enemy's fire. The English, on the other hand, had excellent positions.
There were a number of ruined Kaffir kraals scattered about from the middle of the mountain to its southern end, and these the enemy had occupied, thus securing a great advantage.

Our bullets hailed on the English, and very shortly they retreated to the southernmost point of the mountain. This gave us the chance for which we had been waiting, for now we could take the splendid positions they had left.

In the positions from which the English had retired we found several dead and wounded men, and succeeded in capturing some prisoners.

The enemy were now very strongly posted at the south end of the mountain, for there were in their neighbourhood many Kaffir kraals and huge boulders to protect them from our marksmen. Their fire on us became still more severe and unceasing, and their bullets whistled and sang above our heads, or flattened themselves against the stones. We gave at least as good as we got, and this was so little to their liking that very soon a few white flags appeared in the kraals on their left wing, and from that quarter the firing stopped suddenly.

I immediately gave the order to cease fire and to advance towards the enemy. All at once the English blazed away at us again. On our part, we replied with vigour. But that did not continue long. In a very short time white flags fluttered above every kraal—the victory was ours.

I have no wish to say that a misuse of the white flag had taken place. I was told when the battle was over that the firing had continued, because the men on our eastern wing had not observed what their comrades on their left had done. And this explanation I willingly accept.

Our force in this engagement consisted only of three hundred men from Heilbron, twenty from Kroonstad, and forty or fifty from the Johannesburg Police, these latter under Captain Van Dam. The Police had arrived on the battlefield during the fighting, and had behaved in a most praiseworthy manner.

But I overestimate our numbers, for it was not the whole of the Heilbron contingent that reached the firing line. We had to leave some of them behind with the horses at the foot of the kop, and there were others who remained at the first safe position they reached—a frequent occurrence at that period.

I took careful note of our numbers when the battle was over, and I can state with certainty that there were not more than two hundred burghers actually engaged.

Our losses amounted to four killed and five wounded. As to the losses of the English, I myself counted two hundred and three dead and wounded, and there may have been many whom I did not see. In regard to our prisoners, as they marched past me four deep I counted eight hundred and seventeen.

In addition to the prisoners we also captured two Maxim and two mountain guns. They, however, were out of order, and had not been used by the English. The prisoners told us that parts of their big guns had been lost in the night, owing to a stampede of the mules which carried them, and consequently that the guns were incomplete when they reached the mountain. Shortly afterwards we found the mules with the missing parts of the guns.

It was very lucky for us that the English were deprived of the use of their guns, for it placed them on the same footing as ourselves, as it compelled them to rely entirely on their rifles. Still they had the advantage of position, not to mention the fact that they outnumbered us by four to one.

The guns did not comprise the whole of our capture: we also seized a thousand Lee-Metford rifles, twenty cases of cartridges, and some baggage mules and horses.

The fighting had continued without intermission from nine o'clock in the morning until two in the afternoon. The day was exceedingly hot, and as there was no water to be obtained nearer than a mile from the berg, we suffered greatly from thirst. The condition of the wounded touched my heart deeply. It was pitiable to hear them cry, "Water! water!"

I ordered my burghers to carry these unfortunate creatures to some thorn-bushes, which afforded shelter from the scorching rays of the sun, and where their doctors could attend to them. Other burghers I told off to fetch water from our prisoners' canteens, to supply our own wounded.

As soon as the wounded were safe under the shelter of the trees I despatched a message to Sir George White asking him to send his ambulance to fetch them, and also to make arrangements for the burial of his dead. For some unexplained reason, the English ambulance did not arrive till the following morning.

The upshot of all of this was that close to one thousand men were “in the bag” – Powe was one of these who were transported to Pretoria where they were incarcerated as Prisoners of War at Waterval on the outskirts of the city. The 10th Mountain Battery prisoners numbered five officers and eighty-four men – the balance of the 140 that started out had made it back to Ladysmith.

Life as a P.O.W. was uneventful and, for the rank and file, extremely boring. It was only after Pretoria was occupied by Lord Roberts on 5 June 1900 that the British prisoners were allowed to leave the camp which had, in the interim, been placed under Imperial control. But what of Powe, so recently liberated from captivity, despite being in the camp hospital with illness, on 6 June 1900? The sad news filtered through that he had died of wounds received on 23 June 1900 – the confusion deepened when this account was corrected to read that he had expired from Enteric Fever on that date. Emaciated and ill from an inferior diet and want of adequate medical treatment, Albert Powe breathed no more.



The Inside Sheet of his personnel file records that a letter was sent to his mother, Mrs Mary Powe, informing her that Edwin Harris (sic) could not be traced. Particulars of how he died were included as was a form which Mrs Powe was required to complete and return – this form confirmed that the last she had heard from her son was when he was stationed in Natal. This letter had been lost and was not available to the authorities.

The Queens medal Powe had qualified for was sent to his mother at 31 Summerland Street, Exeter on 21 July 1903 – this would be the last remembrance she would have of him.

A fantastic account of the Albert Powe, Rory, and the exploits of the 10th Mountain Battery that day on Nicholson's Nek.

Much has been written about the treatment meted out to British POW's at the hands of the Boers in the first year of the war (when they still had structures in place to accommodate prisoners. Hudson, a fellow 10th M.B. man, wrote home to inform his parents that they were very well looked after. This letter appeared in the Morning Post of 28 December 1899.



Gunner Nichols of the same outfit as Powe and Hudson, wasn't as forthcoming with information. His letter to his mother appeared in the Shoreditch Observer of 3 February 1900. Why the letter took 3 months to reach the paper is anyone's guess.