London to Ladysmith via Pretoria by Winston Spencer Churchill

W >> Winston Spencer Churchill >> London to Ladysmith via Pretoria

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

The patter of musketry along the left of the army, which reached back
from the advanced kopjes to Colenso village, the boom of the heavy guns
across the river, and the ceaseless thudding of the Field Artillery
making a leisurely preparation, were an almost unnoticed accompaniment
to the scene. Before us the Infantry were moving steadily nearer to the
hill and the open ground by the railway bridge, and we listened amid the
comparatively peaceful din for the impending fire storm.

The head of the column reached the exposed ground, and the soldiers
began to walk across it. Then at once above the average fusillade and
cannonade rose the extraordinary rattling roll of Mauser musketry in
great volume. If the reader wishes to know exactly what this is like he
must drum the fingers of both his hands on a wooden table, one after
the other as quickly and as hard as he can. I turned my telescope on the
Dutch defences. They were no longer deserted. All along the rim of the
trenches, clear cut and jet black, against the sky stood a crowded line
of slouch-hatted men, visible as far as their shoulders, and wielding
what looked like thin sticks.

Far below by the red ironwork of the railway bridge--2,000 yards, at
least, from the trenches--the surface of the ground was blurred and
dusty. Across the bridge the Infantry were still moving, but no longer
slowly--they were running for their lives. Man after man emerged from
the sheltered railroad, which ran like a covered way across the enemy's
front, into the open and the driving hail of bullets, ran the gauntlet
and dropped down the embankment on the further side of the bridge into
safety again. The range was great, but a good many soldiers were hit and
lay scattered about the ironwork of the bridge. 'Pom-pom-pom,'
'pom-pom-pom,' and so on, twenty times went the Boer automatic gun, and
the flights of little shells spotted the bridge with puffs of white
smoke. But the advancing Infantry never hesitated for a moment, and
continued to scamper across the dangerous ground, paying their toll
accordingly. More than sixty men were shot in this short space. Yet this
was not the attack. This was only the preliminary movement across the
enemy's front.

The enemy's shells, which occasionally burst on the advanced kopje, and
a whistle of stray bullets from the left, advised us to change our
position, and we moved a little further down the slope towards the
river. Here the bridge was no longer visible. I looked towards the
hill-top, whence the roar of musketry was ceaselessly proceeding. The
Artillery had seen the slouch hats, too, and forgetting their usual
apathy in the joy of a live target, concentrated a most hellish and
terrible fire on the trenches.

Meanwhile the afternoon had been passing. The Infantry had filed
steadily across the front, and the two leading battalions had already
accumulated on the eastern spurs of Inniskilling Hill. At four o'clock
General Hart ordered the attack, and the troops forthwith began to
climb the slopes. The broken ground delayed their progress, and it was
nearly sunset by the time they had reached the furthest position which
could be gained under cover. The Boer entrenchments were about four
hundred yards away. The _arete_ by which the Inniskillings had advanced
was bare, and swept by a dreadful frontal fire from the works on the
summit and a still more terrible flanking fire from the other hills. It
was so narrow that, though only four companies were arranged in the
firing line, there was scarcely room for two to deploy. There was not,
however, the slightest hesitation, and as we watched with straining eyes
we could see the leading companies rise up together and run swiftly
forward on the enemy's works with inspiring dash and enthusiasm.

But if the attack was superb, the defence was magnificent; nor could the
devoted heroism of the Irish soldiers surpass the stout endurance of the
Dutch. The Artillery redoubled their efforts. The whole summit of the
hill was alive with shell. Shrapnel flashed into being above the crests,
and the ground sprang up into dust whipped by the showers of bullets and
splinters. Again and again whole sections of the entrenchments vanished
in an awful uprush of black earth and smoke, smothering the fierce blaze
of the lyddite shells from the howitzers and heavy artillery. The
cannonade grew to tremendous thundering hum. Not less than sixty guns
were firing continuously on the Boer trenches. But the musketry was
never subdued for an instant. Amid the smoke and the dust the slouch
hats could still be seen. The Dutch, firm and undaunted, stood to their
parapets and plied their rifles with deadly effect.

The terrible power of the Mauser rifle was displayed. As the charging
companies met the storm of bullets they were swept away. Officers and
men fell by scores on the narrow ridge. Though assailed in front and
flank by the hideous whispering Death, the survivors hurried obstinately
onward, until their own artillery were forced to cease firing, and it
seemed that, in spite of bullets, flesh and blood would prevail. But at
the last supreme moment the weakness of the attack was shown. The
Inniskillings had almost reached their goal. They were too few to effect
their purpose; and when the Boers saw that the attack had withered they
shot all the straighter, and several of the boldest leapt out from their
trenches and, running forward to meet the soldiers, discharged their
magazines at the closest range. It was a frantic scene of blood and
fury.

Thus confronted, the Irish perished rather than retire. A few men indeed
ran back down the slope to the nearest cover, and there savagely turned
to bay, but the greater part of the front line was shot down. Other
companies, some from the Connaught Rangers, some headed by the brave
Colonel Sitwell, from the Dublin Fusiliers, advanced to renew--it was
already too late to support--the attack, and as the light faded another
fierce and bloody assault was delivered and was repulsed. Yet the Irish
soldiers would not leave the hill, and, persuaded at length that they
could not advance further, they lay down on the ground they had won,
and began to build walls and shelters, from behind which they opened a
revengeful fire on the exulting Boers. In the two attacks both colonels,
three majors, twenty officers, and six hundred men had fallen out of an
engaged force of scarcely one thousand two hundred. Then darkness pulled
down the curtain, and the tragedy came to an end for the day.

All through the night of the 23rd a heavy rifle fire was maintained by
both sides. Stray bullets whistled about the bivouacs, and the South
African Light Horse, who had selected a most sheltered spot to sleep in,
had a trooper hit. There were a certain number of casualties along the
whole front. As soon as it was daylight I rode out with Captain Brooke
to learn what had happened in the night. We knew that the hill had not
been carried before dusk, but hoped, since the combatants were so close
together, that in the darkness the bayonet would have settled the
matter.

We had just reached the hollow behind the advanced kopje from which I
had watched the attack on the previous evening, when suddenly a shrapnel
shell burst in the air above our heads with a sharp, startling bang. The
hollow and slope of the hill were crowded with Infantry battalions lying
down in quarter column. The bullets and splinters of the shell smote the
ground on all sides. We were both mounted and in the centre of the cone
of dispersion. I was immediately conscious that nothing had happened to
me, though the dust around my horse was flicked up, and I concluded that
everyone had enjoyed equally good fortune. Indeed, I turned to Brooke,
and was about to elaborate my theory that shrapnel is comparatively
harmless, when I saw some stir and turmoil and no less than eight men
were picked up killed or wounded by this explosion. I have only once
before seen in war such a successful shell, and on that occasion I was
studying the effect from the other side.

My respect for modern artillery was mightily increased by this example
of its power. Two more shells followed in quick succession. The first
struck down four men, and broke in two the leg of an Infantry officer's
charger, so that the poor beast galloped about in a circle, preventing
his rider from dismounting for some time; the second shore along the
Howitzer Battery, killing one soldier and wounding an officer, five
soldiers, and three horses. All this occurred in a space of about two
minutes, and the three shells between them accounted for nineteen men
and four horses. Then the gun, which was firing 'on spec,' and could not
see the effect of its fire, turned its attention elsewhere; but the
thought forced itself on me, 'Fancy if there had been a battery.' The
crowded Infantry waiting in support would certainly have been driven out
of the re-entrant with frightful slaughter. Yet in a European war there
would have been not one, but three or four batteries. I do not see how
troops can be handled in masses under such conditions, even when in
support and on reverse slopes. Future warfare must depend on the
individual.

We climbed on to the top of the kopje, which was sprinkled with staff
officers and others--all much interested in the exhibition of shell
fire, which they discussed as a purely scientific question. Inniskilling
Hill was still crowned with the enemy, though they no longer showed
above their trenches. Its slopes were scored with numerous brown lines,
the stone walls built by the attacking brigade during the night, and
behind these the telescope showed the Infantry clustering thickly. The
Boers on their part had made some new trenches in advance of those on
the crest of the hill, so that the opposing firing lines were scarcely
three hundred yards apart, which meant that everyone in them must lie
still or run grave risks. Thus they remained all day, firing at each
other continually, while on the bare ground between them the dead and
wounded lay thickly scattered, the dead mixed with the living, the
wounded untended, without dressings, food, or water, and harassed by the
fire from both sides and from our artillery. It was a very painful thing
to watch these poor fellows moving about feebly and trying to wriggle
themselves into some position of safety, and it reminded me of the
wounded Dervishes after Omdurman--only these were our own countrymen.

It seems that a misunderstanding, of the rights and wrongs of which the
reader shall be himself a judge, arose with the enemy. When day broke,
the Boers, who were much nearer to the wounded than were our troops,
came out of their trenches with a Red Cross flag, and the firing
thereupon ceased locally. Our people ought then to have been ready to
come forward with another Red Cross flag, and an informal truce might
easily have been arranged for an hour or two. Unfortunately, however,
there was some delay on our part. The Boers therefore picked up their
own wounded, of whom there were a few, gave some of our men a little
water, and took away their rifles. All this was quite correct; but the
Boers then proceeded to strip and despoil the dead and wounded, taking
off their boots and turning out their pockets, and this so infuriated
the watching soldiers behind the wall that they forthwith fired on the
Boers, Red Cross flag notwithstanding. This, of course, was the signal
for fighting to recommence fiercely, and during the day neither side
would hear of parley. The Boers behaved cruelly in various instances,
and several wounded men who tried to crawl away were deliberately
destroyed by being shot at close quarters with many bullets.

During the 24th there was heavy firing on both sides, but no movement of
infantry on either. The army suffered some loss from the Boer artillery,
particularly the automatic guns, which were well served, and which
enfiladed many of our positions on the slopes of the low kopjes. In this
way Colonel Thorold, of the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, and other officers,
met their deaths. The casualties were principally in Hildyard's English
and Kitchener's Lancashire Brigades. Hart's six battalions found good
cover in the gorge of the Tugela.

Sir Redvers Buller now saw that his plan of filing his army round the
angle of the river and across the enemy's front would, in any case, be
very costly, and was perhaps impossible. He, therefore, determined to
get back to the Hlangwani plateau, and try the extreme left of the
enemy's position. He had the strategic advantage of being on interior
lines, and was consequently able to move his troops with great ease from
one flank to the other. His new plan was to pass the brigades of his
left and centre across the pontoon bridge from the left to the right, so
that Hart, who was formerly the extreme right, would now become almost
the extreme left, and, having thus extended his right arm, to cross the
river where it flowed east and west, and make a still wider swoop on the
enemy's flank.

The first thing to do was to move the heavy guns, and this, with certain
redistributions of the cavalry, occupied the whole day. A long-range
four-gun naval battery was established on the western slopes of the
Monte Cristo ridge. Another similar battery was placed on the spurs of
Hlangwani. The 4.7-inch naval guns and the 5 in. fortress battery were
brought into line in the centre of the Hlangwani plateau. All this was
good. The big guns were getting back on to the big hills. The firing,
which continued all day, swelled into a roar towards night as the Boers
made vigorous attempts to drive Hart's Brigade from its lodgments. They
were, however, foiled in their endeavour to squeeze in between the
troops and the river.

The battalions, who were attacked frontally, lay down with fixed
bayonets and prayed that the Boers might be encouraged by their silence
to make an assault. The latter, however, were fully aware of the
eagerness of the soldiers for personal collision, and kept their
distance. The firing on both sides was unaimed, and very little harm was
done. No one, however, had much sleep. The condition of the wounded,
still lying sore and thirsty on the bare hillside, was now so shocking
that Sir Redvers Buller was forced, much against his inclination, at
dawn on the 25th, to send in a flag of truce to the Boer commander and
ask for an armistice. This the Boers formally refused, but agreed that
if we would not fire on their positions during the day they would not
prevent our bearer companies from removing the wounded and burying the
dead.

The arrangement worked well; the enemy were polite to our medical
officers, and by noon all the wounded had been brought down and the dead
buried. The neglect and exposure for forty-eight hours had much
aggravated the case of the former, and the bodies of the dead, swollen,
blackened, and torn by the terrible wounds of the expansive bullets, now
so generally used by the enemy, were ugly things to see. The fact that
no regular armistice was agreed on was an advantage, as we were not
thereby debarred from making military movements. The Boers improved
their entrenchments, and Sir Redvers Buller employed the day in
withdrawing his train across the river. This movement, seeming to
foreshadow another retreat, sorely disquieted the troops, who were only
reassured by the promise of a general onslaught from the other flank at
no distant time.

The strange quiet of this Sunday, the first day since the 14th of the
month unbroken by musketry and cannonade, was terminated at nine
o'clock at night.

The Boers had seen the waggons passing back over the bridge, and were
anxious to find out whether or not the infantry were following, and if
the low kopjes were evacuated. They therefore opened a tremendous
magazine fire at long range on the brigades holding the line from
Colenso village to the angle of the river. The fusillade was returned,
and for ten minutes the musketry was louder than at any other time in
this campaign. Very few casualties occurred, however, and after a while
the Boers, having learned that the positions were still occupied, ceased
firing, and the British soon imitated them, so that, except for the
ceaseless 'sniping,' silence was restored.

At dawn on the 26th the artillery re-opened on both sides, and during
the day a constant bombardment was maintained, in which we, having more
guns, fired the greater number of shells, and the Dutch, having larger
targets, hit a greater number of men. The losses were not, however,
severe, except in view of the fact that they had to be endured by the
infantry idly and passively.

Considerable movements of troops were made. Colenso and the kopjes about
Fort Wylie were converted into a bridgehead, garrisoned by Talbot Coke's
Brigade. A new line of communications was opened around the foot of
Hlangwani. A pontoon bridge (B) was arranged ready to be thrown below
the falls of the river, not far from the still intact Boer bridge.
Hildyard's English Brigade stood fast on the advanced low kopjes forming
the extreme left of the line. Hart's command held its position about the
slopes of Inniskilling Hill and in the gorge of the river. Barton's
Fusilier Brigade, Kitchener's Lancashire Brigade, and the two remaining
battalions of Norcott's (formerly Lyttelton's) Brigade crossed the old
bridge to the Hlangwani plateau.

All was now ready for the final attack on the left of the Pieters
position, and in spite of the high quality of the Infantry it was
generally recognised throughout the army that the fate of Ladysmith
must depend on the success of the next day's operations. The spirit of
the army was still undaunted, but they had suffered much from losses,
exposure, and disappointment.

Since January 11, a period of more than six weeks, the troops had been
continuously fighting and bivouacking. The peaceful intervals of a few
days had merely been in order to replenish stores and ammunition. During
this time the only reinforcements to reach the army had been a few
drafts, a cavalry regiment, a horse battery, and some heavy guns.
Exclusive of the 1,100 casualties suffered at Colenso in December, the
force, rarely more than 20,000 men, had had over 3,500 killed and
wounded, had never had a single gleam of success, and had hardly seen
the enemy who hit them so hard.

Colenso, Spion Kop, Vaal Krantz, and the third day at Pieters were not
inspiring memories, and though everyone was cheered by the good news of
the entanglement of Cronje's army on the western side, yet it was felt
that the attempt to be made on the morrow would be the last effort the
Natal Field Army would be asked or allowed to make. And oppressed by
these reflections we went anxiously to rest on the eve of Majuba Day.

CHAPTER XXV

UPON MAJUBA DAY

Commandant's Office. Durban: March 6, 1900.

Day broke behind a cloudy sky, and the bang of an early gun reminded us
that a great business was on hand. The bivouac of the Irregular Cavalry,
which, since they had recrossed the river, had been set at the neck
between Monte Cristo and Cingolo, was soon astir. We arose--all had
slept in their boots and had no need to dress--drank some coffee and
rejoiced that the day promised to be cool. It would help the infantry,
and on the infantry all depended.

At half-past six Dundonald's Brigade marched towards the northern end of
the Hlangwani plateau, where we were to take up positions on the spurs
of Monte Cristo and along the bluffs of the south bank of the Tugela,
from which we might assist the infantry attack, and particularly the
attack of Barton's Brigade, by long-range rifle fire, and by our Colt
battery and Maxim guns. While we marched the artillery fire grew more
rapid, as battery after battery joined in the bombardment; and when we
reached the high wooded ridge which we were ordered to line, I could see
our shells bursting merrily in the enemy's trenches.

The position which had been assigned to the South African Light Horse
afforded a close yet extensive view of the whole scene. Deep in its
gorge below our feet flowed the Tugela, with the new pontoon bridge
visible to the left, just below a fine waterfall. Behind us, on a
rounded spur of Monte Cristo, one of the long-range batteries was firing
away busily. Before us, across the river, there rose from the water's
edge first a yellow strip of sandy foreshore, then steep, scrub-covered
banks, and then smooth, brown slopes, terminating in the three hills
which were to be successively assaulted, and which were surmounted by
the dark lines of the Boer forts and trenches.

It was like a stage scene viewed from the dress circle. Moreover, we
were very comfortable. There were large convenient rocks to sit behind
in case of bullets, or to rest a telescope on, and the small trees which
sparsely covered the ridge gave a partial shade from the sun. Opposite
our front a considerable valley, thickly wooded, ran back from the
river, and it was our easy and pleasant task to 'fan' this, as an
American officer would say, by scattering a ceaseless shower of rifle
and machine-gun bullets throughout its length. Under these satisfactory
circumstances I watched the battle.

It developed very slowly, and with the deliberation which characterises
all our manoeuvres. The guns gradually worked themselves into a state of
excitement, and what with our musketry, supplemented by that of the
Border Regiment and the Composite Battalion, whose duties were the same
as ours, and the machine-guns puffing like steam engines, we soon had a
capital loud noise, which I think is a most invigorating element in an
attack. Besides this, the enemy's sharpshooters were curiously subdued.
They found an unexpected amount of random bullets flying about, and, as
they confessed afterwards, it puzzled and disturbed them.

The spectacle of two thousand men firing for half a day at nothing may
provoke the comment 'shocking waste of ammunition.' Very likely there
was waste. But all war is waste, and cartridges are the cheapest item in
the bill. At any rate, we made it too hot for the 'snipers' to show
their heads, which was certainly worth fifty men to the assaulting
brigades. This method of preparing an attack by a great volume of
unaimed--not undirected--rifle fire is worthy of the closest attention.
I have only once before noticed its employment, and that was when Sir
Bindon Blood attacked and took the Tanga Pass. Then, as now, it was most
effective.

While we were thus occupied the Infantry of Barton's Brigade were
marching across the pontoon bridge, turning to their right and filing
along the sandy foreshore. The plan of attack to which Sir Redvers
Buller had finally committed himself was as follows: Hildyard's Brigade
to hold its position on the low kopjes; Barton's Brigade to cross the
new pontoon bridge opposite to the left of the enemy's position, and
assault the hill marked '3' on my diagram, and hereinafter called
Barton's Hill. Next Kitchener's Brigade was to cross, covered by
Barton's fire, to assault the centre hill marked '2,' and called Railway
Hill. Lastly, Norcott's two untouched battalions were to join the rest
of their brigade, and, supported by General Hart's Brigade, to attack
Inniskilling Hill.

In brief, we were to stretch out our right arm, reach round the enemy's
flank, and pivoting on Hildyard's Brigade crumple him from (his) left to
right. It was the same plan as before, only that we now had our right
hand on the Monte Cristo ridge, from which commanding position our
long-range guns could enfilade and even take in reverse some of the
enemy's trenches.

The leading brigade was across the river by nine o'clock, and by ten
had reached its position ready for attacking at the foot of Barton's
Hill. The advance began forthwith and the figures of the Infantry could
be seen swarming up the steep slopes of the river gorge. The Boers did
very little to stop the attack. They knew their weakness. One side of
Barton's Hill was swept and commanded by the guns on Monte Cristo. The
other side, at the back of which was the donga we were 'fanning,' was
raked by the heavy artillery on the Hlangwani spur and by the field
batteries arranged along the south side of the river. Observe the
influence of the Monte Cristo ridge! It made Barton's Hill untenable by
the Boers; and Barton's Hill prepared the way for an attack on Railway
Hill, and Railway Hill--but I must not anticipate. Indeed, next to Monte
Cristo, Barton's Hill was the key of the Boer position, and so
unfortunate was the enemy's situation that he could not hold this
all-important feature once he had lost the Monte Cristo ridge.

What was tactically possible and safe--for the Boer is a cautious
warrior--was done. Knowing that his left would be turned he extended a
sort of false left in the air beyond the end of the Monte Cristo ridge,
and here he brought a gun into action, which worried us among other
people but did not, of course, prevent any military movement.

By noon the whole of Barton's Hill was in the possession of his brigade,
without, as it seemed to us, any serious opposition. The artillery then
turned its attention to the other objectives of the attack. The Boer
detached left was, however, of considerable strength, and as soon as
Barton had occupied this hill (which proved, moreover, far more
extensive than had been expected), he was heavily attacked by rifle fire
from its under features and from a network of dongas to the eastward,
and as the Artillery were busy preparing the attack on Railway Hill, the
brigade, particularly the Scots and Irish Fusiliers, soon became
severely engaged and suffered grievous loss.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20