CHAPTER 15.
SPION KOP.
Whilst Methuen and Gatacre were content to hold their own at the
Modder and at Sterkstroom, and whilst the mobile and energetic
French was herding the Boers into Colesberg, Sir Redvers Buller,
the heavy, obdurate, inexplicable man, was gathering and organising
his forces for another advance upon Ladysmith. Nearly a month had
elapsed since the evil day when his infantry had retired, and his
ten guns had not, from the frontal attack upon Colenso. Since then
Sir Charles Warren's division of infantry and a considerable
reinforcement of artillery had come to him. And yet in view of the
terrible nature of the ground in front of him, of the fighting
power of the Boers, and of the fact that they were always acting
upon internal lines, his force even now was, in the opinion of
competent judges, too weak for the matter in hand.
There remained, however, several points in his favour. His
excellent infantry were full of zeal and of confidence in their
chief. It cannot be denied, however much we may criticise some
incidents in his campaign, that he possessed the gift of impressing
and encouraging his followers, and, in spite of Colenso, the sight
of his square figure and heavy impassive face conveyed an assurance
of ultimate victory to those around him. In artillery he was very
much stronger than before, especially in weight of metal. His
cavalry was still weak in proportion to his other arms. When at
last he moved out on January 10th to attempt to outflank the Boers,
he took with him nineteen thousand infantry, three thousand
cavalry, and sixty guns, which included six howitzers capable of
throwing a 50-pound lyddite shell, and ten long-range naval pieces.
Barton's Brigade and other troops were left behind to hold the base
and line of communications.
An analysis of Buller's force shows that its details were as
follows:--
Clery's Division.
Hildyard's Brigade.
2nd West Surrey.
2nd Devonshire.
2nd West Yorkshire.
2nd East Surrey.
Hart's Brigade.
1st Inniskilling Fusiliers.
1st Border Regiment.
1st Connaught Rangers.
2nd Dublin Fusiliers.
Field Artillery, three batteries, 19th, 28th, 63rd; one squadron
13th Hussars; Royal Engineers.
Warren's Division.
Lyttelton's Brigade.
2nd Cameronians.
3rd King's Royal Rifles.
1st Durham Light Infantry.
1st Rifle Brigade.
Woodgate's Brigade.
2nd Royal Lancaster.
2nd Lancashire Fusiliers.
1st South Lancashire.
York and Lancasters.
Field Artillery, three batteries, 7th, 78th, 73rd; one squadron
13th Hussars.
Corps Troops.
Coke's Brigade.
Imperial Light Infantry.
2nd Somersets.
2nd Dorsets.
2nd Middlesex.
61st Howitzer Battery; two 4.7 naval guns; eight naval 12-pounder guns;
one squadron 13th Hussars; Royal Engineers.
Cavalry.
1st Royal Dragoons.
14th Hussars.
Four squadrons South African Horse.
One squadron Imperial Light Horse.
Bethune's Mounted Infantry.
Thorneycroft's Mounted Infantry.
One squadron Natal Carabineers.
One squadron Natal Police.
One company King's Royal Rifles Mounted Infantry.
Six machine guns.
This is the force whose operations I shall attempt to describe.
About sixteen miles to the westward of Colenso there is a ford over
the Tugela River which is called Potgieter's Drift. General
Buller's apparent plan was to seize this, together with the ferry
which runs at this point, and so to throw himself upon the right
flank of the Colenso Boers. Once over the river there is one
formidable line of hills to cross, but if this were passed there
would be comparatively easy ground until the Ladysmith hills were
reached. With high hopes Buller and his men sallied out upon their
adventure.
Dundonald's cavalry force pushed rapidly forwards, crossed the
Little Tugela, a tributary of the main river, at Springfield, and
established themselves upon the hills which command the drift.
Dundonald largely exceeded his instructions in going so far, and
while we applaud his courage and judgment in doing so, we must
remember and be charitable to those less fortunate officers whose
private enterprise has ended in disaster and reproof. There can be
no doubt that the enemy intended to hold all this tract, and that
it was only the quickness of our initial movements which
forestalled them. Early in the morning a small party of the South
African Horse, under Lieutenant Carlisle, swam the broad river
under fire and brought back the ferry boat, an enterprise which was
fortunately bloodless, but which was most coolly planned and
gallantly carried out. The way was now open to our advance, and
could it have been carried out as rapidly as it had begun the Boers
might conceivably have been scattered before they could
concentrate. It was not the fault of the infantry that it was not
so. They were trudging, mud-spattered and jovial, at the very heels
of the horses, after a forced march which was one of the most
trying of the whole campaign. But an army of 20,000 men cannot be
conveyed over a river twenty miles from any base without elaborate
preparations being made to feed them. The roads were in such a
state that the wagons could hardly move, heavy rain had just
fallen, and every stream was swollen into a river; bullocks might
strain, and traction engines pant, and horses die, but by no human
means could the stores be kept up if the advance guard were allowed
to go at their own pace. And so, having ensured an ultimate
crossing of the river by the seizure of Mount Alice, the high hill
which commands the drift, the forces waited day after day, watching
in the distance the swarms of strenuous dark figures who dug and
hauled and worked upon the hillsides opposite, barring the road
which they would have to take. Far away on the horizon a little
shining point twinkled amid the purple haze, coming and going from
morning to night. It was the heliograph of Ladysmith, explaining
her troubles and calling for help, and from the heights of Mount
Alice an answering star of hope glimmered and shone, soothing,
encouraging, explaining, while the stern men of the veld dug
furiously at their trenches in between. 'We are coming! We are
coming!' cried Mount Alice. 'Over our bodies,' said the men with
the spades and mattocks.
On Thursday, January 12th, Dundonald seized the heights, on the
13th the ferry was taken and Lyttelton's Brigade came up to secure
that which the cavalry had gained. On the 14th the heavy naval guns
were brought up to cover the crossing. On the 15th Coke's Brigade
and other infantry concentrated at the drift. On the 16th the four
regiments of Lyttelton's Brigade went across, and then, and only
then, it began to be apparent that Buller's plan was a more deeply
laid one than had been thought, and that all this business of
Potgieter's Drift was really a demonstration in order to cover the
actual crossing which was to be effected at a ford named Trichard's
Drift, five miles to the westward. Thus, while Lyttelton's and
Coke's Brigades were ostentatiously attacking Potgieter's from in
front, three other brigades (Hart's, Woodgate's, and Hildyard's)
were marched rapidly on the night of the 16th to the real place of
crossing, to which Dundonald's cavalry had already ridden. There,
on the 17th, a pontoon bridge had been erected, and a strong force
was thrown over in such a way as to turn the right of the trenches
in front of Potgieter's. It was admirably planned and excellently
carried out, certainly the most strategic movement, if there could
he said to have been any strategic movement upon the British side,
in the campaign up to that date. On the 18th the infantry, the
cavalry, and most of the guns were safely across without loss of
life. The Boers, however, still retained their formidable internal
lines, and the only result of a change of position seemed to be to
put them to the trouble of building a new series of those terrible
entrenchments at which they had become such experts. After all the
combinations the British were, it is true, upon the right side of
the river, but they were considerably further from Ladysmith than
when they started. There are times, however, when twenty miles are
less than fourteen, and it was hoped that this might prove to be
among them. But the first step was the most serious one, for right
across their front lay the Boer position upon the edge of a lofty
plateau, with the high peak of Spion Kop forming the left corner of
it. If once that main ridge could be captured or commanded, it
would carry them halfway to the goal. It was for that essential
line of hills that two of the most dogged races upon earth were
about to contend. An immediate advance might have secured the
position at once, but, for some reason which is inexplicable, an
aimless march to the left was followed by a retirement to the
original position of Warren's division, and so two invaluable days
were wasted. We have the positive assurance of Commandant Edwards,
who was Chief of Staff to General Botha, that a vigorous turning
movement upon the left would at this time have completely
outflanked the Boer position and opened a way to Ladysmith.
A small success, the more welcome for its rarity, came to the
British arms on this first day. Dundonald's men had been thrown out
to cover the left of the infantry advance and to feel for the right
of the Boer position. A strong Boer patrol, caught napping for
once, rode into an ambuscade of the irregulars. Some escaped, some
held out most gallantly in a kopje, but the final result was a
surrender of twenty-four unwounded prisoners, and the finding of
thirteen killed and wounded, including de Mentz, the field-cornet
of Heilbron. Two killed and two wounded were the British losses in
this well-managed affair. Dundonald's force then took its position
upon the extreme left of Warren's advance.
The British were now moving upon the Boers in two separate bodies,
the one which included Lyttelton's and Coke's Brigades from
Potgieter's Drift, making what was really a frontal attack, while
the main body under Warren, who had crossed at Trichard's Drift,
was swinging round upon the Boer right. Midway between the two
movements the formidable bastion of Spion Kop stood clearly
outlined against the blue Natal sky. The heavy naval guns on Mount
Alice (two 4.7's and eight twelve-pounders) were so placed as to
support either advance, and the howitzer battery was given to
Lyttelton to help the frontal attack. For two days the British
pressed slowly but steadily on to the Boers under the cover of an
incessant rain of shells. Dour and long-suffering the Boers made no
reply, save with sporadic rifle-fire, and refused until the crisis
should come to expose their great guns to the chance of injury.
On January 19th Warren's turning movement began to bring him into
closer touch with the enemy, his thirty-six field guns and the six
howitzers which had returned to him crushing down the opposition
which faced him. The ground in front of him was pleated into long
folds, and his advance meant the carrying of ridge after ridge. In
the earlier stages of the war this would have entailed a murderous
loss; but we had learned our lesson, and the infantry now, with
intervals of ten paces, and every man choosing his own cover, went
up in proper Boer form, carrying position after position, the enemy
always retiring with dignity and decorum. There was no victory on
one side or rout on the other--only a steady advance and an orderly
retirement. That night the infantry slept in their fighting line,
going on again at three in the morning, and light broke to find not
only rifles, but the long-silent Boer guns all blazing at the
British advance. Again, as at Colenso, the brunt of the fighting
fell upon Hart's Irish Brigade, who upheld that immemorial
tradition of valour with which that name, either in or out of the
British service, has invariably been associated. Upon the
Lancashire Fusiliers and the York and Lancasters came also a large
share of the losses and the glory. Slowly but surely the inexorable
line of the British lapped over the ground which the enemy had
held. A gallant colonial, Tobin of the South African Horse, rode up
one hill and signaled with his hat that it was clear. His comrades
followed closely at his heels, and occupied the position with the
loss of Childe, their Major. During this action Lyttelton had held
the Boers in their trenches opposite to him by advancing to within
1500 yards of them, but the attack was not pushed further. On the
evening of this day, January 20th, the British had gained some
miles of ground, and the total losses had been about three hundred
killed and wounded. The troops were in good heart, and all promised
well for the future. Again the men lay where they had fought, and
again the dawn heard the crash of the great guns and the rattle of
the musketry.
The operations of this day began with a sustained cannonade from
the field batteries and 61st Howitzer Battery, which was as
fiercely answered by the enemy. About eleven the infantry began to
go forward with an advance which would have astonished the
martinets of Aldershot, an irregular fringe of crawlers, wrigglers,
writhers, crouchers, all cool and deliberate, giving away no points
in this grim game of death. Where now were the officers with their
distinctive dresses and flashing swords, where the valiant rushes
over the open, where the men who were too proud to lie down?--the
tactics of three months ago seemed as obsolete as those of the
Middle Ages. All day the line undulated forward, and by evening yet
another strip of rock-strewn ground had been gained, and yet
another train of ambulances was bearing a hundred of our wounded
back to the base hospitals at Frere. It was on Hildyard's Brigade
on the left that the fighting and the losses of this day
principally fell. By the morning of January 22nd the regiments were
clustering thickly all round the edges of the Boer main position,
and the day was spent in resting the weary men, and in determining
at what point the final assault should be delivered. On the right
front, commanding the Boer lines on either side, towered the stark
eminence of Spion Kop, so called because from its summit the Boer
voortrekkers had first in 1835 gazed down upon the promised land of
Natal. If that could only be seized and held! Buller and Warren
swept its bald summit with their field-glasses. It was a venture.
But all war is a venture; and the brave man is he who ventures
most. One fiery rush and the master-key of all these locked doors
might be in our keeping. That evening there came a telegram to
London which left the whole Empire in a hush of anticipation. Spion
Kop was to be attacked that night.
The troops which were selected for the task were eight companies of
the 2nd Lancashire Fusiliers, six of the 2nd Royal Lancasters, two
of the 1st South Lancashires, 180 of Thorneycroft's, and half a
company of Sappers. It was to be a North of England job.
Under the friendly cover of a starless night the men, in Indian
file, like a party of Iroquois braves upon the war trail, stole up
the winding and ill-defined path which led to the summit. Woodgate,
the Lancashire Brigadier, and Blomfield of the Fusiliers led the
way. It was a severe climb of 2000 feet, coming after arduous work
over broken ground, but the affair was well-timed, and it was at
that blackest hour which precedes the dawn that the last steep
ascent was reached. The Fusiliers crouched down among the rocks to
recover their breath, and saw far down in the plain beneath them
the placid lights which showed where their comrades were resting. A
fine rain was falling, and rolling clouds hung low over their
heads. The men with unloaded rifles and fixed bayonets stole on
once more, their bodies bent, their eyes peering through the mirk
for the first sign of the enemy--that enemy whose first sign has
usually been a shattering volley. Thorneycroft's men with their
gallant leader had threaded their way up into the advance. Then the
leading files found that they were walking on the level. The crest
had been gained.
With slow steps and bated breath, the open line of skirmishers
stole across it. Was it possible that it had been entirely
abandoned? Suddenly a raucous shout of 'Wie da?' came out of the
darkness, then a shot, then a splutter of musketry and a yell, as
the Fusiliers sprang onwards with their bayonets. The Boer post of
Vryheid burghers clattered and scrambled away into the darkness,
and a cheer that roused both the sleeping armies told that the
surprise had been complete and the position won.
In the grey light of the breaking day the men advanced along the
narrow undulating ridge, the prominent end of which they had
captured. Another trench faced them, but it was weakly held and
abandoned. Then the men, uncertain what remained beyond, halted and
waited for full light to see where they were, and what the work was
which lay before them--a fatal halt, as the result proved, and yet
one so natural that it is hard to blame the officer who ordered it.
Indeed, he might have seemed more culpable had he pushed blindly
on, and so lost the advantage which had been already gained.
About eight o'clock, with the clearing of the mist, General
Woodgate saw how matters stood. The ridge, one end of which he
held, extended away, rising and falling for some miles. Had he the
whole of the end plateau, and had he guns, he might hope to command
the rest of the position. But he held only half the plateau, and at
the further end of it the Boers were strongly entrenched. The Spion
Kop mountain was really the salient or sharp angle of the Boer
position, so that the British were exposed to a cross fire both
from the left and right. Beyond were other eminences which
sheltered strings of riflemen and several guns. The plateau which
the British held was very much narrower than was usually
represented in the press. In many places the possible front was not
much more than a hundred yards wide, and the troops were compelled
to bunch together, as there was not room for a single company to
take an extended formation. The cover upon this plateau was scanty,
far too scanty for the force upon it, and the shell
fire--especially the fire of the pom-poms--soon became very
murderous. To mass the troops under the cover of the edge of the
plateau might naturally suggest itself, but with great tactical
skill the Boer advanced line from Commandant Prinsloo's Heidelberg
and Carolina commandos kept so aggressive an attitude that the
British could not weaken the lines opposed to them. Their
skirmishers were creeping round too in such a way that the fire was
really coming from three separate points, left, centre, and. right,
and every corner of the position was searched by their bullets.
Early in the action the gallant Woodgate and many of his Lancashire
men were shot down. The others spread out and held on, firing
occasionally at the whisk of a rifle-barrel or the glimpse of a
broad-brimmed hat.
From morning to midday, the shell, Maxim, and rifle fire swept
across the kop in a continual driving shower. The British guns in
the plain below failed to localise the position of the enemy's, and
they were able to vent their concentrated spite upon the exposed
infantry. No blame attaches to the gunners for this, as a hill
intervened to screen the Boer artillery, which consisted of five
big guns and two pom-poms.
Upon the fall of Woodgate, Thorneycroft, who bore the reputation of
a determined fighter, was placed at the suggestion of Buller in
charge of the defence of the hill, and he was reinforced after noon
by Coke's brigade, the Middlesex, the Dorsets, and the Somersets,
together with the Imperial Light Infantry. The addition of this
force to the defenders of the plateau tended to increase the
casualty returns rather than the strength of the defence. Three
thousand more rifles could do nothing to check the fire of the
invisible cannon, and it was this which was the main source of the
losses, while on the other hand the plateau had become so cumbered
with troops that a shell could hardly fail to do damage. There was
no cover to shelter them and no room for them to extend. The
pressure was most severe upon the shallow trenches in the front,
which had been abandoned by the Boers and were held by the
Lancashire Fusiliers. They were enfiladed by rifle and cannon, and
the dead and wounded outnumbered the hale. So close were the
skirmishers that on at least one occasion Boer and Briton found
themselves on each side of the same rock. Once a handful of men,
tormented beyond endurance, sprang up as a sign that they had had
enough, but Thorneycroft, a man of huge physique, rushed forward to
the advancing Boers. 'You may go to hell!' he yelled. 'I command
here, and allow no surrender. Go on with your firing.' Nothing
could exceed the gallantry of Louis Botha's men in pushing the
attack. Again and again they made their way up to the British
firing line, exposing themselves with a recklessness which, with
the exception of the grand attack upon Ladysmith, was unique in our
experience of them. About two o'clock they rushed one trench
occupied by the Fusiliers and secured the survivors of two
companies as prisoners, but were subsequently driven out again. A
detached group of the South Lancashires was summoned to surrender.
'When I surrender,' cried Colour-Sergeant Nolan, 'it will be my
dead body!' Hour after hour of the unintermitting crash of the
shells among the rocks and of the groans and screams of men torn
and burst by the most horrible of all wounds had shaken the troops
badly. Spectators from below who saw the shells pitching at the
rate of seven a minute on to the crowded plateau marvelled at the
endurance which held the devoted men to their post. Men were
wounded and wounded and wounded yet again, and still went on
fighting. Never since Inkerman had we had so grim a soldier's
battle. The company officers were superb. Captain Muriel of the
Middlesex was shot through the check while giving a cigarette to a
wounded man, continued to lead his company, and was shot again
through the brain. Scott Moncrieff of the same regiment was only
disabled by the fourth bullet which hit him. Grenfell of
Thorneycroft's was shot, and exclaimed, 'That's all right. It's not
much.' A second wound made him remark, 'I can get on all right.'
The third killed him. Ross of the Lancasters, who had crawled from
a sickbed, was found dead upon the furthest crest. Young Murray of
the Scottish Rifles, dripping from five wounds, still staggered
about among his men. And the men were worthy of such officers. 'No
retreat! No retreat!' they yelled when some of the front line were
driven in. In all regiments there are weaklings and hang-backs, and
many a man was wandering down the reverse slopes when he should
have been facing death upon the top, but as a body British troops
have never stood firm through a more fiery ordeal than on that
fatal hill. . .
The position was so bad that no efforts of officers or men could do
anything to mend it. They were in a murderous dilemma. If they fell
back for cover the Boer riflemen would rush the position. If they
held their ground this horrible shell fire must continue, which
they had no means of answering. Down at Gun Hill in front of the
Boer position we had no fewer than five batteries, the 78th, 7th,
73rd, 63rd, and 61st howitzer, but a ridge intervened between them
and the Boer guns which were shelling Spion Kop, and this ridge was
strongly entrenched. The naval guns from distant Mount Alice did
what they could, but the range was very long, and the position of
the Boer guns uncertain. The artillery, situated as it was, could
not save the infantry from the horrible scourging which they were
enduring.
There remains the debated question whether the British guns could
have been taken to the top. Mr. Winston Churchill, the soundness of
whose judgment has been frequently demonstrated during the war,
asserts that it might have been done. Without venturing to
contradict one who was personally present, I venture to think that
there is strong evidence to show that it could not have been done
without blasting and other measures, for which there was no
possible time. Captain Hanwell of the 78th R.F.A., upon the day of
the battle had the very utmost difficulty with the help of four
horses in getting a light Maxim on to the top, and his opinion,
with that of other artillery officers, is that the feat was an
impossible one until the path had been prepared. When night fell
Colonel Sim was despatched with a party of Sappers to clear the
track and to prepare two emplacements upon the top, but in his
advance he met the retiring infantry.
Throughout the day reinforcements had pushed up the hill, until two
full brigades had been drawn into the fight. From the other side of
the ridge Lyttelton sent up the Scottish Rifles, who reached the
summit, and added their share to the shambles upon the top. As the
shades of night closed in, and the glare of the bursting shells
became more lurid, the men lay extended upon the rocky ground,
parched and exhausted. They were hopelessly jumbled together, with
the exception of the Dorsets, whose cohesion may have been due to
superior discipline, less exposure, or to the fact that their khaki
differed somewhat in colour from that of the others. Twelve hours
of so terrible an experience had had a strange effect upon many of
the men. Some were dazed and battle-struck, incapable of clear
understanding. Some were as incoherent as drunkards. Some lay in an
overpowering drowsiness. The most were doggedly patient and
long-suffering, with a mighty longing for water obliterating every
other emotion.
Before evening fell a most gallant and successful attempt had been
made by the third battalion of the King's Royal Rifles from
Lyttelton's Brigade to relieve the pressure upon their comrades on
Spion Kop. In order to draw part of the Boer fire away they
ascended from the northern side and carried the hills which formed
a continuation of the same ridge. The movement was meant to be no
more than a strong demonstration, but the riflemen pushed it until,
breathless but victorious, they stood upon the very crest of the
position, leaving nearly a hundred dead or dying to show the path
which they had taken. Their advance being much further than was
desired, they were recalled, and it was at the moment that Buchanan
Riddell, their brave Colonel, stood up to read Lyttelton's note
that he fell with a Boer bullet through his brain, making one more
of those gallant leaders who died as they had lived, at the head of
their regiments. Chisholm, Dick-Cunyngham, Downman, Wilford,
Gunning, Sherston, Thackeray, Sitwell, MacCarthy O'Leary,
Airlie--they have led their men up to and through the gates of
death. It was a fine exploit of the 3rd Rifles. 'A finer bit of
skirmishing, a finer bit of climbing, and a finer bit of fighting,
I have never seen,' said their Brigadier. It is certain that if
Lyttelton had not thrown his two regiments into the fight the
pressure upon the hill-top might have become unendurable; and it
seems also certain that if he had only held on to the position
which the Rifles had gained, the Boers would never have reoccupied
Spion Kop.
And now, under the shadow of night, but with the shells bursting
thickly over the plateau, the much-tried Thorneycroft had to make
up his mind whether he should hold on for another such day as he
had endured, or whether now, in the friendly darkness, he should
remove his shattered force. Could he have seen the discouragement
of the Boers and the preparations which they had made for
retirement, he would have held his ground. But this was hidden from
him, while the horror of his own losses was but too apparent. Forty
per cent of his men were down. Thirteen hundred dead and dying are
a grim sight upon a wide-spread battle-field, but when this number
is heaped upon a confined space, where from a single high rock the
whole litter of broken and shattered bodies can be seen, and the
groans of the stricken rise in one long droning chorus to the ear,
then it is an iron mind indeed which can resist such evidence of
disaster. In a harder age Wellington was able to survey four
thousand bodies piled in the narrow compass of the breach of
Badajos, but his resolution was sustained by the knowledge that the
military end for which they fell had been accomplished. Had his
task been unfinished it is doubtful whether even his steadfast soul
would not have flinched from its completion. Thorneycroft saw the
frightful havoc of one day, and he shrank from the thought of such
another. 'Better six battalions safely down the hill than a mop up
in the morning,' said he, and he gave the word to retire. One who
had met the troops as they staggered down has told me how far they
were from being routed. In mixed array, but steadily and in order,
the long thin line trudged through the darkness. Their parched lips
would not articulate, but they whispered 'Water! Where is water?'
as they toiled upon their way. At the bottom of the hill they
formed into regiments once more, and marched back to the camp. In
the morning the blood-spattered hill-top, with its piles of dead
and of wounded, were in the hands of Botha and his men, whose
valour and perseverance deserved the victory which they had won.
There is no doubt now that at 3 A.M. of that morning Botha, knowing
that the Rifles had carried Burger's position, regarded the affair
as hopeless, and that no one was more astonished than he when he
found, on the report of two scouts, that it was a victory and not a
defeat which had come to him.
How shall we sum up such an action save that it was a gallant
attempt, gallantly carried out, and as gallantly met? On both sides
the results of artillery fire during the war have been
disappointing, but at Spion Kop beyond all question it was the Boer
guns which won the action for them. So keen was the disappointment
at home that there was a tendency to criticise the battle with some
harshness, but it is difficult now, with the evidence at our
command, to say what was left undone which could have altered the
result. Had Thorneycroft known all that we know, he would have kept
his grip upon the hill. On the face of it one finds it difficult to
understand why so momentous a decision, upon which the whole
operations depended, should have been left entirely to the judgment
of one who in the morning had been a simple Lieutenant-Colonel.
'Where are the bosses?' cried a Fusilier, and the historian can
only repeat the question. General Warren was at the bottom of the
hill. Had he ascended and determined that the place should still be
held, he might have sent down the wearied troops, brought up
smaller numbers of fresh ones, ordered the Sappers to deepen the
trenches, and tried to bring up water and guns. It was for the
divisional commander to lay his hand upon the reins at so critical
an instant, to relieve the weary man who had struggled so hard all
day.
The subsequent publication of the official despatches has served
little purpose, save to show that there was a want of harmony
between Buller and Warren, and that the former lost all confidence
in his subordinate during the course of the operations. In these
papers General Buller expresses the opinion that had Warren's
operations been more dashing, he would have found his turning
movement upon the left a comparatively easy matter. In this
judgment he would probably have the concurrence of most military
critics. He adds, however, 'On the 19th, I ought to have assumed
command myself. I saw that things were not going well--indeed,
everyone saw that. I blame myself now for not having done so. I did
not, because, if I did, I should discredit General Warren in the
estimation of the troops, and, if I were shot, and he had to
withdraw across the Tugela, and they had lost confidence in him,
the consequences might be very serious. I must leave it to higher
authority whether this argument was a sound one.' It needs no
higher authority than common-sense to say that the argument is an
absolutely unsound one. No consequences could be more serious than
that the operations should miscarry and Ladysmith remain
unrelieved, and such want of success must in any case discredit
Warren in the eyes of his troops. Besides, a subordinate is not
discredited because his chief steps in to conduct a critical
operation. However, these personal controversies may be suffered to
remain in that pigeon-hole from which they should never have been
drawn.
On account of the crowding of four thousand troops into a space
which might have afforded tolerable cover for five hundred the
losses in the action were very heavy, not fewer than fifteen
hundred being killed, wounded, or missing, the proportion of killed
being, on account of the shell fire, abnormally high. The
Lancashire Fusiliers were the heaviest sufferers, and their Colonel
Blomfield was wounded and fell into the hands of the enemy. The
Royal Lancasters also lost heavily. Thorneycroft's had 80 men hit
out of 180 engaged. The Imperial Light Infantry, a raw corps of
Rand refugees who were enduring their baptism of fire, lost 130
men. In officers the losses were particularly heavy, 60 being
killed or wounded. The Boer returns show some 50 killed and 150
wounded, which may not be far from the truth. Without the shell
fire the British losses might not have been much more.
General Buller had lost nearly two thousand men since he had
crossed the Tugela, and his purpose was still unfulfilled. Should
he risk the loss of a large part of his force in storming the
ridges in front of him, or should he recross the river and try for
an easier route elsewhere? To the surprise and disappointment both
of the public and of the army, he chose the latter course, and by
January 27th he had fallen back, unmolested by the Boers, to the
other side of the Tugela. It must be confessed that his retreat was
admirably conducted, and that it was a military feat to bring his
men, his guns, and his stores in safety over a broad river in the
face of a victorious enemy. Stolid and unmoved, his impenetrable
demeanour restored serenity and confidence to the angry and
disappointed troops. There might well be heavy hearts among both
them and the public. After a fortnight's campaign, and the
endurance of great losses and hardships, both Ladysmith and her
relievers found themselves no better off than when they started.
Buller still held the commanding position of Mount Alice, and this
was all that he had to show for such sacrifices and such exertions.
Once more there came a weary pause while Ladysmith, sick with hope
deferred, waited gloomily upon half-rations of horse-flesh for the
next movement from the South.
