University of Virginia Library

Note.—The following extract is from a private letter written after the battle of Elands-Laagte: “I went round the Gordons' camp on the day following the battle, and I don't think I saw one man who did not bear some mark, either on his body or on his clothes, of the enemy's bullets. Some of them had their helmets riddled. The most pathetic of all the sights was a piper of the Gordons, who was sitting with a Boer's shirt tied round his arm, which was saturated with blood. He had been shot through the arm, and had bound up the wound himself. When I asked him to go and get the doctor to dress his wound, he simply replied that the doctor would only tell him he had no business to get wounded. He didn't seem to mind his wound a bit, but he wailed over his bagpipes, which were a new set just sent out from Edinburgh. He had got a bullet right through the bag, which rendered them useless.”

Note.—After one of the late battles in Natal, an old Boer was found badly wounded, propped up among some rough boulders upon a kopje side; his rifle was laid idly by him, and the old man appeared to be waiting for death, and was quietly reading his Bible.

Note.—An officer now in England, who was badly hurt at Elands-Laagte, tells a strange story. When charging the position a Lancer struck at an object, apparently a man, hiding behind a gun-limber, and then passed on to bestow his attentions elsewhere. Subsequently the object was found to be indeed a man, a man borne upon the Boer strength, and not only a man, but a Scotchman. His skull had been cracked by the Lancer, but he still remained at his post by the limber, though unconscious of all that was taking place around him, for it was discovered that his wrists had been tied behind him with stout cord, and his arms had similarly been tightly secured to the limber. In due time, the officer who tells this story and the Scot who had been so maltreated found themselves in a hospital ward together. Another person in that ward was “Colonel” Schiel, who lay wounded and a prisoner, the Scot and the

“Colonel” being side by side. When sufficiently recovered the Scot told his story to his wounded brethren of the ward. He had been “commandeered” to serve with the Boers, but absolutely refused to do so; if he must fight, he would fight in company with his own flesh and blood, but never against them. Thus protesting, he was secured and passed on to the front; where, he said, “a blackguard called Schiel,” who was in command of the Boer guns, had him tied fast to the limber, and that was all he could remember. It was not likely that he could long remain uninformed upon the fact that “the blackguard called Schiel” was his next neighbour; and then the pent-up flood-gates of his wrath were opened. . . . It was a happy moment for the unlucky Schiel when he left that hospital behind him

Note.—A trooper in the Imperial Light Horse, who is at present in Maritzburg on sick leave, stated that he saw Colonel Scott-Chisholm shot, and describes the incident as follows:— “Well on in the engagement at Elands-Laagte the Colonel, who had been running about fearlessly, directing the troops, was suddenly seen to drop, and on examination it was found that he had received a wound in the calf of the leg. The wound, however, did not appear to be very serious, for the Colonel rose to his feet and made to rejoin his company. He had only proceeded a short distance, however, when he was again shot, this time in the groin, and he sank to the ground. The fire around him was very heavy at the time, but, notwithstanding, a trooper, whose name, we believe, is Benson, rushed forward, and, after some little difficulty, succeeded in raising the Colonel and putting him across his shoulders. He then hurried as fast as he could towards a shelter, but on the way the Colonel was shot a third time, the bullet on this occasion entering his head and causing immediate death. The trooper was also wounded in his gallant and humane effort, and we understand he is now in the camp hospital at Maritzburg.”—Times of Natal.

Note.—Mr. Balfour, speaking at Ardwick on 8th January, 1900, said: “Was there ever anything done with greater promptness and heroism than the sending of the naval guns of H.M.S. Powerful to the relief of Ladysmith? Capetown is 600 miles away from Ladysmith. I am unable to say exactly the number of hours, but in an incredible space of time from the receipt of the telegram asking for guns, the Powerful was turned into a workshop, the guns were provided with suitable mountings, were unshipped, and entrained, and were on their adventurous journey.”

Those guns arrived just in the nick of time; the train that carried them was the last train in. Their sudden appearance in the midst of the fight probably saved the day.

Note.—The following letter has been forwarded to the General Manager of the Railways by Inspector Campbell, of the Natal Government Railways, writing on behalf of the railway employés who escaped with the armoured train:— “Sir,—The railway men who accompanied the armoured train this morning ask me to convey to you their admiration of the coolness and pluck displayed by Mr. Winston Churchill, the war correspondent who accompanied the train, and to whose efforts, backed up by those of the driver Wagner, is due the fact that the armoured engine and tender were brought successfully out after being hampered by the derailed trucks in front, and that it became possible to bring the wounded in here. The whole of our men are loud in their praises of Mr. Churchill, who, I regret to say, has been taken prisoner. I respectfully ask you to convey their admiration to a brave man.”

Estcourt, Wednesday, 8 p.m.—All the survivors praise Mr. Churchill's conduct. When the wreckage was cleared the engine-driver, who was wounded in the head, began to retire, but Mr. Churchill called him to come back, saying, “A man is never hit twice.” The man brought back the engine, and Mr. Churchill then helped to carry the wounded to the tender and accompanied them back to Frere. There he jumped down with a rifle and ran towards the enemy.

Note.—A telegram from the special correspondent of The Times, after describing the battle of Belmont, said:—

“Special gallantry was displayed by Major Milton, King's Own York Light Infantry. At the close of the action the Mounted Infantry he was leading fell into an ambush and fled. He supplied a trooper, whose horse had been killed, with his own, then walked away under heavy fire.”

Sir,—It may interest your readers to have further confirmation as to how our gallant officers at the front are doing and dying. I beg, therefore, to enclose copy of a letter received by me from the Admiralty.

A brother Naval officer also writes:—“At the bottom of the hill he was hit in the arm, and half-way up he was shot in the leg, but still pressed on. On reaching the top of the kopje he was shot through the stomach, and fell, mortally wounded.”

I am, Sir, your obedient servant, James Huddart. Eastbourne, January 2. Admiralty, Dec. 29, 1899.

“Sir,—I am commanded by my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty to inform you that, in a letter dated 26th ult., Captain Marchant, R.M.L.I., who was left in command of the Naval Brigade with Lord Methuen's force after the action at Graspan, reported as follows:—‘It is with deep regret that I have to report the death of Midshipman Huddart, who behaved magnificently, and still advanced after he had been twice wounded, until he was finally struck down mortally wounded.’

“I am, Sir, your obedient servant, (Sgd.) “Evan Macgregor.”

Note.—“The Hon. George Peel, who was present at the battle of Belmont, got into a warm corner, the bullets flying thickly around him, and as he was only a spectator, he prudently scrambled back to the rear of the fighting line. After resting, he started again for the purpose of exploring, when he found himself suddenly in the enemy's camp. An old Boer jumped up from behind a rock, and Mr. Peel prepared to sell his life dearly, when, instead of a bullet, the Boer offered him a Bible, open at Revelation, and then fled precipitately.”— (Daily Telegraph), Cape Town Times, November 27, 1899.

Note.—The Daily Telegraph published the following from its Special Correspondent:—

Arundel, Tuesday, 8.35 p.m.

I am able to record some conspicuous acts of heroism during a reconnaisance this morning by Lieutenant Collis, of the Carabineers, of the enemy's position. Lieutenant Collis was in command of a patrol of six men. After examining a farmhouse where they were told by the farmer that no Boers were near, the little force proceeded to reconnoitre the farmside, from which a line of kopjes ran up to the enemy's position. They had got within 800 yards of the latter when Boers on horseback were observed coming down. As the patrol moved away Private Ross's horse fell. Though the Boers were now within 300 yards, Lieutenant Collis and Sergeant Freeman galloped back to give him assistance. No sooner had Ross remounted than his horse was shot. Lieutenant Collis again went back, and got him to mount behind on his own horse. The couple had ridden some fifty yards when the Lieutenant's horse was dropped by a bullet. Both then took to their heels. Private Dodson came back and insisted on Lieutenant Collis getting up behind him. This he did, but finding when they had gone a short distance that the horse was unable to carry both, he again dismounted. Private Dunn returned, and Lieutenant Collis mounted behind him. As, however, the Boers rapidly gained on them, he dropped off and ordered Dunn to save himself. Sergeant Freeman, although by this time wounded, galloped back to save his officer. Lieutenant Collis refused assistance, and directed the sergeant to make good his escape. Hardly had he turned away when the rider and horse were shot. Finding that Sergeant Freeman was mortally wounded, Lieutenant Collis ran some hundred and fifty yards, and then concealed himself in the scrub. The Boers came up and examined Sergeant Freeman as he lay on the ground. They fired several shots in the direction of Lieutenant Collis, and then retreated. After walking four miles Lieutenant Collis came upon a patrol of the Inniskillings and safely reached camp. Private Ross is missing. These gallant deeds took place under a heavy fire at close range.

Note.—The description of the burial of General Wauchope given by the Daily News correspondent is as follows:—

“Three hundred yards to the rear of the little township of Modder River, just as the sun was sinking in a blaze of African splendour, on the evening of Tuesday, the 13th of December, a long shallow grave lay exposed in the breast of the veldt. To the westward the broad river, fringed with trees, ran murmuringly, to the eastward the heights still held by the enemy scowled menacingly; north and south the veldt undulated peacefully; a few paces to the northward of that grave fifty Highlanders lay, dressed as they had fallen on the field of battle; they had followed their chief to the field, and they were to follow him to the grave. How grim and stern those dead men looked as they lay face upward to the sky, with great hands clenched in the last death agony, and brows still knitted with the stern lust of the strife in which they had fallen. The plaids dear to every Highland clan were represented there, and, as I looked, out of the distance came the sound of the pipes;

it was the General coming to join his men. There, right under the eyes of the enemy, moved with slow and solemn tread, all that remained of the Highland Brigade. In front of them walked the chaplain, with bared head, dressed in his robes of office, then came the pipers, with their pipes (sixteen in all), and behind them, with arms reversed, moved the Highlanders, dressed in all the regalia of their regiments, and in the midst the dead General, borne by four of his comrades. Out swelled the pipes to the strains of “The Flowers of the Forest,” now ringing proud and high until the soldiers' heads went back in haughty defiance, and eyes flashed through tears like sunlight on steel; now sinking to a moaning wail like a woman mourning for her firstborn, until the proud heads dropped forward till they rested on heaving chests, and tears rolled down the wan and scarred faces, and the choking sobs broke through the solemn rhythm of the march of death.

Right up to the grave they marched, then broke away in companies, until the General lay in the shallow grave with a Scottish square of armed men around him; only the dead man's son and a small remnant of his officers stood with the chaplain and the pipers whilst the solemn service of the Church was spoken. Then once again the pipes pealed out, and “Lochaber No More” cut through the stillness like a cry of pain, until one could almost hear the widow in her Highland home moaning for the soldier she would welcome back no more. Then, as if touched by the magic of one thought, the soldiers turned their tear-damp eyes from the still form in the shallow grave towards the heights where Cronje, the “lion of Africa,” and his soldiers stood. Then every cheek flushed crimson, and the strong jaws set like steel, and the veins on the hands that clasped the rifle handles swelled almost to bursting with the fervour of the grip, and that look from those silent armed men spoke more eloquently than ever spoke the tongues of orators. For on each frowning face the spirit of vengeance sat, and each sparkling eye asked silently for blood.”

Note.—At one of the battles of the Relief Column on its way to Kimberley, a guardsman went forward to succour a wounded Boer who had put up a white flag. The Boer fired on him at close quarters, but the bullet missed its billet. The gallant guardsman disarmed his treacherous enemy, and took him back to the hospital tent.

Note.—The following is an extract from a letter written by a correspondent of the Natal Witness, who escaped from Ladysmith:—

“Several of our soldiers were guilty of very shabby tricks on the guileless Boer. A squadron of Lancers in one of their patrols took with them one day a Lancer of straw. This figure was left near the Boer position, and viewed from a distance looked a veritable cavalryman. The figure was left on a rock, and it was not long before the Boers were having shots at the soldier who so daringly exposed himself. Mauser bullets had no effect, and it is alleged that, getting exasperated, the Boers turned one of their big guns on the dummy. The truth was discovered only after a vast quantity of ammunition had been wasted. The Liverpools one day set up a row of effigies, and the Boers were driven nearly crazy by the indifference these men showed to their fire. Then there was the bogus artillery some of our people constructed one night on the Town Lands in front of Umbulwana. There were figures of men and something which looked like 15-pounders. The Boers blazed away at this battery, and ‘knocked particular --- --- out of it,’ as an artilleryman, with many delighted grins, said, only to find out that they were being fooled.”

Note.—At Keswick, each year, in Christmas week, all old people over 60 years are invited to what is locally known as “The Old Folks' Dinner.” These verses were recited at the Old Folks' Dinner of 1899.

Note.—An old Bedford Modern boy, Rupert Brearey, now at the front with the R.A.M. Corps, writes as follows, from Colesberg, under date January 7th, 1900:—

“One of the Boer Medical Officers rode to us under a Red Cross flag and asked us to go and bury our dead, which, of course, we did. But the sight of those poor fellows lying on the hill, some of them dreadfully riddled with bullets, I can never forget. The Boers were very good; in fact, one would hardly have thought that they were our enemies. They talked to us quite freely, and helped us to dig the grave and to carry the dead. There was one very touching little incident. After our Major had read the Burial Service (from the Prayer Book L. and D. gave me in January, 1896), one of the Boers stepped out and said a short prayer, hoping the war would soon end, and while we stood with heads uncovered they sang a hymn in Dutch. It cut our fellows up very much indeed; in fact we could not speak for some time.”

Note.—This incident was described in a letter from one of the bearer companies' men after a battle:—

“We were out looking after the wounded at night, when the fight was over, when I came across an old, white-bearded Boer. He was lying behind a bit of rock supporting himself on his elbows. I was a bit wary of the old fellow at first. Some of these wounded Boers, we've found, are snakes in the grass. You go up to them with the best intentions. and the next thing you know is that the man you were going to succour is blazing at you with his gun.

“So,” the letter goes on, “I kept my eye on the old chap. But when I got near I saw that he was too far gone to raise his rifle. He was gasping hard for breath, and I saw he was not long for this world. He motioned to me that he wanted to speak, and I bent over him. He asked me to go and find his son—a boy of thirteen who had been fighting by his side when he fell.

“Well, I did as he asked me,” continues the writer, “and under a heap of wounded I found the poor lad, stone dead, and I carried him back to his father. Well, you know I'm not a chicken-hearted sort of a fellow. I have seen a bit of fighting in my time, and that sort of thing knocks all the soft out of a chap.

“But,” this correspondent confesses, “I had to turn away when the old Boer saw his dead lad. He hugged the body to him and moaned over it, and carried on in a way that fetched a big lump in my throat. Until that very moment I never thought how horrible war is. I never wanted to see another shot fired. And when I looked round again the old Boer was dead, clasping the cold hand of his dead boy.”

Note.—When the last shell had been fired, it is said that the two remaining gunners, rather than desert their gun, stood at attention and so died.

Note.—The following little story is told by Mr. Frederick Treves, the well-known surgeon, in a letter he has sent to the British Medical Journal, detailing the battle of Colenso: “On all sides there is evidence that our soldiers behaved splendidly on the field, and I can say that when brought back wounded they were plucky, patient, and uncomplaining. Their unselfishness was many times very marked. An orderly was bringing some water to a wounded man lying on the ground near me. He was shot through the abdomen, and he could hardly speak owing to the dryness of his mouth, but he said, ‘Take it to my pal first; he is worse hit than me.’ This generous lad died next morning, but his pal got through and is doing well.”

Yesterday (Sunday), Jan. 7th, a solemn thanksgiving service to Almighty God for His blessing upon our arms, was held in the Anglican Church. The building was crowded, chiefly by soldiers. The congregation also included General Sir George White, General Sir Archibald Hunter, Colonel Ian Hamilton, and other Staff officers.

At the conclusion of the sermon by Archdeacon Barker, General White and his Staff, at the invitation of the Archdeacon, proceeded to the altar rails, and there stood whilst a Te Deum was sung. It was a most impressive spectacle, and it came to a thrilling conclusion by the singing by the congregation of “God Save the Queen.”

[Extract from the letter of the Bishop of Chester in the Chester Courant, January 3, 1900:

“Sir,—May I be allowed to express what I know to be the strong and widely felt regret that, through a well-meant but most cruel kindness, our Reservists are being tempted at the solemn and touching hour of farewell to become the victims of drink? We all honour the Reservists for their splendid patriotism. We are all resolved, not only to look after their wives and families during their absence, but to provide them with wholesome comforts for their start and journey. Our Mayor is giving us the lead, but the scenes of excess due to illjudged hospitality which have been heard of in other cities and which are, I fear, not unknown in Chester, shock, and ought to shock, the public conscience. It is a most unhallowed and ill-omened beginning of what is in itself a noble enterprise. The responsibility lies at the door, not of the military authorities, who detest the whole thing, but partly at least at the doors of mistaken friends and admirers. In the earnest hope that sympathy and admiration may take a more manly and Godly shape, and that the Reservists themselves may shew that they have moral as well as physical courage, I have the honour to remain, your obedient servant,

“F. J. Cestr. “The Palace, Chester, January 2, 1900.”

N.B.—By the Service regulations the Reservists are allowed to withdraw the balance of their reserve-pay, which usually amounts to about & £3, at the moment of mobilisation and departure. This is questionable wisdom.]

Note.—A soldier writing home says: “We helped to bury the poor fellow, who was the life and soul of us; but the Major had not got a prayer-book, and we could none of us remember the right collects, and so we just stood round the grave, and all together said ‘Our Father.’”

Note.—A message dated Ladysmith, Feb. 17th.—“Much regret is felt for the death of Major Dufton, an able and popular officer of the Light Horse, who was severely wounded during one of the recent fights, and had his arm amputated. His wife, on hearing by heliograph of his condition, asked for and obtained permission from General Joubert, through General White, to pass through the Boer lines that she might nurse her dying husband.”

Note.—One of the Gordon Highlanders, writing of the Queen's visit to Netley to see the wounded, said, “It was the proudest moment of my life; the Queen spoke to us all; she seemed much more a mother than a Queen.”