CHAPTER 18.
THE SIEGE AND RELIEF OF KIMBERLEY.
It has already been narrated how, upon the arrival of the army
corps from England, the greater part was drafted to Natal, while
some went to the western side, and started under Lord Methuen upon
the perilous enterprise of the relief of Kimberley. It has also
been shown how, after three expensive victories, Lord Methuen's
force met with a paralysing reverse, and was compelled to remain
inactive within twenty miles of the town which they had come to
succour. Before I describe how that succour did eventually arrive,
some attention must be paid to the incidents which had occurred
within the city.
'I am directed to assure you that there is no reason for
apprehending that Kimberley or any part of the colony either is, or
in any contemplated event will be, in danger of attack. Mr.
Schreiner is of opinion that your fears are groundless and your
anticipations in the matter entirely without foundation.' Such is
the official reply to the remonstrance of the inhabitants, when,
with the shadow of war dark upon them, they appealed for help. It
is fortunate, however, that a progressive British town has usually
the capacity for doing things for itself without the intervention
of officials. Kimberley was particularly lucky in being the centre
of the wealthy and alert De Beers Company, which had laid in
sufficient ammunition and supplies to prevent the town from being
helpless in the presence of the enemy. But the cannon were popguns,
firing a 7-pound shell for a short range, and the garrison
contained only seven hundred regulars, while the remainder were
mostly untrained miners and artisans. Among them, however, there
was a sprinkling of dangerous men from the northern wars, and all
were nerved by a knowledge that the ground which they defended was
essential to the Empire. Ladysmith was no more than any other
strategic position, but Kimberley was unique, the centre of the
richest tract of ground for its size in the whole world. Its loss
would have been a heavy blow to the British cause, and an enormous
encouragement to the Boers.
On October 12th, several hours after the expiration of Kruger's
ultimatum, Cecil Rhodes threw himself into Kimberley. This
remarkable man, who stood for the future of South Africa as clearly
as the Dopper Boer stood for its past, had, both in features and in
character, some traits which may, without extravagance, be called
Napoleonic. The restless energy, the fertility of resource, the
attention to detail, the wide sweep of mind, the power of terse
comment--all these recall the great emperor. So did the simplicity
of private life in the midst of excessive wealth. And so finally
did a want of scruple where an ambition was to be furthered, shown,
for example, in that enormous donation to the Irish party by which
he made a bid for their parliamentary support, and in the story of
the Jameson raid. A certain cynicism of mind and a grim humour
complete the parallel. But Rhodes was a Napoleon of peace. The
consolidation of South Africa under the freest and most progressive
form of government was the large object on which he had expended
his energies and his fortune but the development of the country in
every conceivable respect, from the building of a railway to the
importation of a pedigree bull, engaged his unremitting attention.
It was on October 15th that the fifty thousand inhabitants of
Kimberley first heard the voice of war. It rose and fell in a
succession of horrible screams and groans which travelled far over
the veld, and the outlying farmers marvelled at the dreadful
clamour from the sirens and the hooters of the great mines. Those
who have endured all--the rifle, the cannon, and the hunger--have
said that those wild whoops from the sirens were what had tried
their nerve the most.
The Boers in scattered bands of horsemen were thick around the
town, and had blocked the railroad. They raided cattle upon the
outskirts, but made no attempt to rush the defence. The garrison,
who, civilian and military, approached four thousand in number, lay
close in rifle pit and redoubt waiting for an attack which never
came. The perimeter to be defended was about eight miles, but the
heaps of tailings made admirable fortifications, and the town had
none of those inconvenient heights around it which had been such
bad neighbours to Ladysmith. Picturesque surroundings are not
favourable to defence.
On October 24th the garrison, finding that no attack was made,
determined upon a reconnaissance. The mounted force, upon which
most of the work and of the loss fell, consisted of the Diamond
Fields Horse, a small number of Cape Police, a company of Mounted
Infantry, and a body called the Kimberley Light Horse. With two
hundred and seventy volunteers from this force Major Scott-Turner,
a redoubtable fighter, felt his way to the north until he came in
touch with the Boers. The latter, who were much superior in
numbers, manoeuvred to cut him off, but the arrival of two
companies of the North Lancashire Regiment turned the scale in our
favour. We lost three killed and twenty-one wounded in the
skirmish. The Boer loss is unknown, but their commander Botha was
slain.
On November 4th Commandant Wessels formally summoned the town, and
it is asserted that he gave Colonel Kekewich leave to send out the
women and children. That officer has been blamed for not taking
advantage of the permission--or at the least for not communicating
it to the civil authorities. As a matter of fact the charge rests
upon a misapprehension. In Wessels' letter a distinction is made
between Africander and English women, the former being offered an
asylum in his camp. This offer was made known, and half a dozen
persons took advantage of it. The suggestion, however, in the case
of the English carried with it no promise that they would be
conveyed to Orange River, and a compliance with it would have put
them as helpless hostages into the hands of the enemy. As to not
publishing the message it is not usual to publish such official
documents, but the offer was shown to Mr. Rhodes, who concurred in
the impossibility of accepting it.
It is difficult to allude to this subject without touching upon the
painful but notorious fact that there existed during the siege
considerable friction between the military authorities and a
section of the civilians, of whom Mr. Rhodes was chief. Among other
characteristics Rhodes bore any form of restraint very badly, and
chafed mightily when unable to do a thing in the exact way which he
considered best. He may have been a Napoleon of peace, but his
warmest friends could never describe him as a Napoleon of war, for
his military forecasts have been erroneous, and the management of
the Jameson fiasco certainly inspired no confidence in the judgment
of any one concerned. That his intentions were of the best, and
that he had the good of the Empire at heart, may be freely granted;
but that these motives should lead him to cabal against, and even
to threaten, the military governor, or that he should attempt to
force Lord Roberts's hand in a military operation, was most
deplorable. Every credit may be given to him for all his aid to the
military--he gave with a good grace what the garrison would
otherwise have had to commandeer--but it is a fact that the town
would have been more united, and therefore stronger, without his
presence. Colonel Kekewich and his chief staff officer, Major
O'Meara, were as much plagued by intrigue within as by the Boers
without.
On November 7th the bombardment of the town commenced from nine
9-pounder guns to which the artillery of the garrison could give no
adequate reply. The result, however, of a fortnight's fire, during
which seven hundred shells were discharged, was the loss of two
non-combatants. The question of food was recognised as being of
more importance than the enemy's fire. An early relief appeared
probable, however, as the advance of Methuen's force was already
known. One pound of bread, two ounces of sugar, and half a pound of
meat were allowed per head. It was only on the small children that
the scarcity of milk told with tragic effect. At Ladysmith, at
Mafeking, and at Kimberley hundreds of these innocents were
sacrificed.
November 25th was a red-letter day with the garrison, who made a
sortie under the impression that Methuen was not far off, and that
they were assisting his operations. The attack was made upon one of
the Boer positions by a force consisting of a detachment of the
Light Horse and of the Cape Police, and their work was brilliantly
successful. The actual storming of the redoubt was carried out by
some forty men, of whom but four were killed. They brought back
thirty-three prisoners as a proof of their victory, but the Boer
gun, as usual, escaped us. In this brilliant affair Scott-Turner
was wounded, which did not prevent him, only three days later, from
leading another sortie, which was as disastrous as the first had
been successful. Save under very exceptional circumstances it is in
modern warfare long odds always upon the defence, and the garrison
would probably have been better advised had they refrained from
attacking the fortifications of their enemy--a truth which
Baden-Powell learned also at Game Tree Hill. As it was, after a
temporary success the British were blown back by the fierce Mauser
fire, and lost the indomitable Scott-Turner, with twenty-one of his
brave companions killed and twenty-eight wounded, all belonging to
the colonial corps. The Empire may reflect with pride that the
people in whose cause mainly they fought showed themselves by their
gallantry and their devotion worthy of any sacrifice which has been
made.
Again the siege settled down to a monotonous record of decreasing
rations and of expectation. On December 10 there came a sign of
hope from the outside world. Far on the southern horizon a little
golden speck shimmered against the blue African sky. It was
Methuen's balloon gleaming in the sunshine. Next morning the low
grumble of distant cannon was the sweetest of music to the
listening citizens. But days passed without further news, and it
was not for more than a week that they learned of the bloody
repulse of Magersfontein, and that help was once more indefinitely
postponed. Heliographic communication had been opened with the
relieving army, and it is on record that the first message flashed
through from the south was a question about the number of a horse.
With inconceivable stupidity this has been cited as an example of
military levity and incapacity. Of course the object of the
question was a test as to whether they were really in communication
with the garrison. It must be confessed that the town seems to have
contained some very querulous and unreasonable people.
The New Year found the beleaguered city reduced to a quarter of a
pound of meat per head, while the health of the inhabitants began
to break down under their confinement. Their interest, however, was
keenly aroused by the attempt made in the De Beers workshops to
build a gun which might reach their opponents. This remarkable
piece of ordnance, constructed by an American named Labram by the
help of tools manufactured for the purpose and of books found in
the town, took the shape eventually of a 28 lb. rifled gun, which
proved to be a most efficient piece of artillery. With grim humour,
Mr. Rhodes's compliments had been inscribed upon the shells--a fair
retort in view of the openly expressed threat of the enemy that in
case of his capture they would carry him in a cage to Pretoria.
The Boers, though held off for a time by this unexpected piece of
ordnance, prepared a terrible answer to it. On February 7th an
enormous gun, throwing a 96 lb. shell, opened from Kamfersdam,
which is four miles from the centre of the town. The shells,
following the evil precedent of the Germans in 1870, were fired not
at the forts, but into the thickly populated city. Day and night
these huge missiles exploded, shattering the houses and
occasionally killing or maiming the occupants. Some thousands of
the women and children were conveyed down the mines, where, in the
electric-lighted tunnels, they lay in comfort and safety. One
surprising revenge the Boers had, for by an extraordinary chance
one of the few men killed by their gun was the ingenious Labram who
had constructed the 28-pounder. By an even more singular chance,
Leon, who was responsible for bringing the big Boer gun, was struck
immediately afterwards by a long-range rifle-shot from the
garrison.
The historian must be content to give a tame account of the siege
of Kimberley, for the thing itself was tame. Indeed 'siege' is a
misnomer, for it was rather an investment or a blockade. Such as it
was, however, the inhabitants became very restless under it, and
though there were never any prospects of surrender the utmost
impatience began to be manifested at the protracted delay on the
part of the relief force. It was not till later that it was
understood how cunningly Kimberley had been used as a bait to hold
the enemy until final preparations had been made for his
destruction.
And at last the great day came. It is on record how dramatic was
the meeting between the mounted outposts of the defenders and the
advance guard of the relievers, whose advent seems to have been
equally unexpected by friend and foe. A skirmish was in progress on
February 15th between a party of the Kimberley Light Horse and of
the Boers, when a new body of horsemen, unrecognised by either
side, appeared upon the plain and opened fire upon the enemy. One
of the strangers rode up to the patrol. 'What the dickens does K.L.
H. mean on your shoulder-strap?' he asked. 'It means Kimberley
Light Horse. Who are you?' 'I am one of the New Zealanders.'
Macaulay in his wildest dream of the future of the much-quoted New
Zealander never pictured him as heading a rescue force for the
relief of a British town in the heart of Africa.
The population had assembled to watch the mighty cloud of dust
which rolled along the south-eastern horizon. What was it which
swept westwards within its reddish heart? Hopeful and yet fearful
they saw the huge bank draw nearer and nearer. An assault from the
whole of Cronje's army was the thought which passed through many a
mind. And then the dust-cloud thinned, a mighty host of horsemen
spurred out from it, and in the extended far-flung ranks the glint
of spearheads and the gleam of scabbards told of the Hussars and
Lancers, while denser banks on either flank marked the position of
the whirling guns. Wearied and spent with a hundred miles' ride the
dusty riders and the panting, dripping horses took fresh heart as
they saw the broad city before them, and swept with martial rattle
and jingle towards the cheering crowds. Amid shouts and tears
French rode into Kimberley while his troopers encamped outside the
town.
To know how this bolt was prepared and how launched, the narrative
must go back to the beginning of the month. At that period Methuen
and his men were still faced by Cronje and his entrenched forces,
who, in spite of occasional bombardments, held their position
between Kimberley and the relieving army. French, having handed
over the operations at Colesberg to Clements, had gone down to Cape
Town to confer with Roberts and Kitchener. Thence they all three
made their way to the Modder River, which was evidently about to be
the base of a more largely conceived series of operations than any
which had yet been undertaken.
In order to draw the Boer attention away from the thunderbolt which
was about to fall upon their left flank, a strong demonstration
ending in a brisk action was made early in February upon the
extreme right of Cronje's position. The force, consisting of the
Highland Brigade, two squadrons of the 9th Lancers, No. 7 Co. Royal
Engineers, and the 62nd Battery, was under the command of the
famous Hector Macdonald. 'Fighting Mac' as he was called by his
men, had joined his regiment as a private, and had worked through
the grades of corporal, sergeant, captain, major, and colonel,
until now, still in the prime of his manhood, he found himself
riding at the head of a brigade. A bony, craggy Scotsman, with a
square fighting head and a bulldog jaw, he had conquered the
exclusiveness and routine of the British service by the same dogged
qualities which made him formidable to Dervish and to Boer. With a
cool brain, a steady nerve, and a proud heart, he is an ideal
leader of infantry, and those who saw him manoeuvre his brigade in
the crisis of the battle of Omdurman speak of it as the one great
memory which they carried back from the engagement. On the field of
battle he turns to the speech of his childhood, the jagged,
rasping, homely words which brace the nerves of the northern
soldier. This was the man who had come from India to take the place
of poor Wauchope, and to put fresh heart into the gallant but
sorely stricken brigade.
The four regiments which composed the infantry of the force--the
Black Watch, the Argyll and Sutherlands, the Seaforths, and the
Highland Light Infantry--left Lord Methuen's camp on Saturday,
February 3rd, and halted at Fraser's Drift, passing on next day to
Koodoosberg. The day was very hot, and the going very heavy, and
many men fell out, some never to return. The drift (or ford) was
found, however, to be undefended, and was seized by Macdonald, who,
after pitching camp on the south side of the river, sent out strong
parties across the drift to seize and entrench the Koodoosberg and
some adjacent kopjes which, lying some three-quarters of a mile to
the north-west of the drift formed the key of the position. A few
Boer scouts were seen hurrying with the news of his coming to the
head laager.
The effect of these messages was evident by Tuesday (February 6th),
when the Boers were seen to be assembling upon the north bank. By
next morning they were there in considerable numbers, and began an
attack upon a crest held by the Seaforths. Macdonald threw two
companies of the Black Watch and two of the Highland Light Infantry
into the fight. The Boers made excellent practice with a 7-pounder
mountain gun, and their rifle fire, considering the good cover
which our men had, was very deadly. Poor Tait, of the Black Watch,
good sportsman and gallant soldier, with one wound hardly healed
upon his person, was hit again. 'They've got me this time,' were
his dying words. Blair, of the Seaforths, had his carotid cut by a
shrapnel bullet, and lay for hours while the men of his company
took turns to squeeze the artery. But our artillery silenced the
Boer gun, and our infantry easily held their riflemen. Babington
with the cavalry brigade arrived from the camp about 1.30, moving
along the north bank of the river. In spite of the fact that men
and horses were weary from a tiring march, it was hoped by
Macdonald's force that they would work round the Boers and make an
attempt to capture either them or their gun. But the horsemen seem
not to have realised the position of the parties, or that
possibility of bringing off a considerable coup, so the action came
to a tame conclusion, the Boers retiring unpursued from their
attack. On Thursday, February 8th, they were found to have
withdrawn, and on the same evening our own force was recalled, to
the surprise and disappointment of the public at home, who had not
realised that in directing their attention to their right flank the
column had already produced the effect upon the enemy for which
they had been sent. They could not be left there, as they were
needed for those great operations which were pending. It was on the
9th that the brigade returned; on the 10th they were congratulated
by Lord Roberts in person; and on the 11th those new dispositions
were made which were destined not only to relieve Kimberley, but to
inflict a blow upon the Boer cause from which it was never able to
recover.
Small, brown, and wrinkled, with puckered eyes and alert manner,
Lord Roberts in spite of his sixty-seven years preserves the figure
and energy of youth. The active open-air life of India keeps men
fit for the saddle when in England they would only sit their club
armchairs, and it is hard for any one who sees the wiry figure and
brisk step of Lord Roberts to realise that he has spent forty-one
years of soldiering in what used to be regarded as an unhealthy
climate. He had carried into late life the habit of martial
exercise, and a Russian traveller has left it on record that the
sight which surprised him most in India was to see the veteran
commander of the army ride forth with his spear and carry off the
peg with the skill of a practised trooper. In his early youth he
had shown in the Mutiny that he possessed the fighting energy of
the soldier to a remarkable degree, but it was only in the Afghan
War of 1880 that he had an opportunity of proving that he had rarer
and more valuable gifts, the power of swift resolution and
determined execution. At the crisis of the war he and his army
disappeared entirely from the public ken only to emerge
dramatically as victors at a point three hundred miles distant from
where they had vanished.
It is not only as a soldier, but as a man, that Lord Roberts
possesses some remarkable characteristics. He has in a supreme
degree that magnetic quality which draws not merely the respect but
the love of those who know him. In Chaucer's phrase, he is a very
perfect gentle knight. Soldiers and regimental officers have for
him a feeling of personal affection such as the unemotional British
Army has never had for any leader in the course of our history. His
chivalrous courtesy, his unerring tact, his kindly nature, his
unselfish and untiring devotion to their interests have all
endeared him to those rough loyal natures, who would follow him
with as much confidence and devotion as the grognards of the Guard
had in the case of the Great Emperor. There were some who feared
that in Roberts's case, as in so many more, the donga and kopje of
South Africa might form the grave and headstone of a military
reputation, but far from this being so he consistently showed a
wide sweep of strategy and a power of conceiving the effect of
scattered movements over a great extent of country which have
surprised his warmest admirers. In the second week of February his
dispositions were ready, and there followed the swift series of
blows which brought the Boers upon their knees. Of these we shall
only describe here the exploits of the fine force of cavalry which,
after a ride of a hundred miles, broke out of the heart of that
reddish dustcloud and swept the Boer besiegers away from
hard-pressed Kimberley.
In order to strike unexpectedly, Lord Roberts had not only made a
strong demonstration at Koodoosdrift, at the other end of the Boer
line, but he had withdrawn his main force some forty miles south,
taking them down by rail to Belmont and Enslin with such secrecy
that even commanding officers had no idea whither the troops were
going. The cavalry which had come from French's command at
Colesberg had already reached the rendezvous, travelling by road to
Naauwpoort, and thence by train. This force consisted of the
Carabineers, New South Wales Lancers, Inniskillings, composite
regiment of Household Cavalry, 10th Hussars, with some mounted
infantry and two batteries of Horse Artillery, making a force of
nearly three thousand sabres. To this were added the 9th and 12th
Lancers from Modder River, the 16th Lancers from India, the Scots
Greys, which had been patrolling Orange River from the beginning of
the war, Rimington's Scouts, and two brigades of mounted infantry
under Colonels Ridley and Hannay. The force under this latter
officer had a severe skirmish on its way to the rendezvous and lost
fifty or sixty in killed, wounded, and missing. Five other
batteries of Horse Artillery were added to the force, making seven
in all, with a pontoon section of Royal Engineers. The total number
of men was about five thousand. By the night of Sunday, February
11th, this formidable force had concentrated at Ramdam, twenty
miles north-east of Belmont, and was ready to advance. At two in
the morning of Monday, February 12th, the start was made, and the
long sinuous line of night-riders moved off over the shadowy veld,
the beat of twenty thousand hoofs, the clank of steel, and the
rumble of gunwheels and tumbrils swelling into a deep low roar like
the surge upon the shingle.
Two rivers, the Riet and the Modder, intervened between French and
Kimberley. By daylight on the 12th the head of his force had
reached Waterval Drift, which was found to be defended by a body of
Boers with a gun. Leaving a small detachment to hold them, French
passed his men over Dekiel's Drift, higher up the stream, and swept
the enemy out of his position. This considerable force of Boers had
come from Jacobsdal, and were just too late to get into position to
resist the crossing. Had we been ten minutes later, the matter
would have been much more serious. At the cost of a very small loss
he held both sides of the ford, but it was not until midnight that
the whole long column was brought across, and bivouacked upon the
northern bank. In the morning the strength of the force was
enormously increased by the arrival of one more horseman. It was
Roberts himself, who had ridden over to give the men a send-off,
and the sight of his wiry erect figure and mahogany face sent them
full of fire and confidence upon their way.
But the march of this second day (February 13th) was a military
operation of some difficulty. Thirty long waterless miles had to be
done before they could reach the Modder, and it was possible that
even then they might have to fight an action before winning the
drift. The weather was very hot, and through the long day the sun
beat down from an unclouded sky, while the soldiers were only
shaded by the dust-bank in which they rode. A broad arid plain,
swelling into stony hills, surrounded them on every side. Here and
there in the extreme distance, mounted figures moved over the vast
expanse--Boer scouts who marked in amazement the advance of this
great array. Once or twice these men gathered together, and a
sputter of rifle fire broke out upon our left flank, but the great
tide swept on and carried them with it. Often in this desolate land
the herds of mottled springbok and of grey rekbok could be seen
sweeping over the plain, or stopping with that curiosity upon which
the hunter trades, to stare at the unwonted spectacle.
So all day they rode, hussars, dragoons, and lancers, over the
withered veld, until men and horses drooped with the heat and the
exertion. A front of nearly two miles was kept, the regiments
moving two abreast in open order; and the sight of this magnificent
cloud of horsemen sweeping over the great barren plain was a
glorious one. The veld had caught fire upon the right, and a black
cloud of smoke with a lurid heart to it covered the flank. The beat
of the sun from above and the swelter of dust from below were
overpowering. Gun horses fell in the traces and died of pure
exhaustion. The men, parched and silent, but cheerful, strained
their eyes to pierce the continual mirage which played over the
horizon, and to catch the first glimpse of the Modder. At last, as
the sun began to slope down to the west, a thin line of green was
discerned, the bushes which skirt the banks of that ill-favoured
stream. With renewed heart the cavalry pushed on and made for the
drift, while Major Rimington, to whom the onerous duty of guiding
the force had been entrusted, gave a sigh of relief as he saw that
he had indeed struck the very point at which he had aimed.
The essential thing in the movements had been speed--to reach each
point before the enemy could concentrate to oppose them. Upon this
it depended whether they would find five hundred or five thousand
waiting on the further bank. It must have been with anxious eyes
that French watched his first regiment ride down to Klip Drift. If
the Boers should have had notice of his coming and have transferred
some of their 40-pounders, he might lose heavily before he forced
the stream. But this time, at last, he had completely outmanoeuvred
them. He came with the news of his coming, and Broadwood with the
12th Lancers rushed the drift. The small Boer force saved itself by
flight, and the camp, the wagons, and the supplies remained with
the victors. On the night of the 13th he had secured the passage of
the Modder, and up to the early morning the horses and the guns
were splashing through its coffee-coloured waters.
French's force had now come level to the main position of the
Boers, but had struck it upon the extreme left wing. The extreme
right wing, thanks to the Koodoosdrift demonstration, was fifty
miles off, and this line was naturally very thinly held, save only
at the central position of Magersfontein. Cronje could not denude
this central position, for he saw Methuen still waiting in front of
him, and in any case Klip Drift is twenty-five miles from
Magersfontein. But the Boer left wing, though scattered, gathered
into some sort of cohesion on Wednesday (February 14th), and made
an effort to check the victorious progress of the cavalry. It was
necessary on this day to rest at Klip Drift, until Kelly-Kenny
should come up with the infantry to hold what had been gained. All
day the small bodies of Boers came riding in and taking up
positions between the column and its objective.
Next morning the advance was resumed, the column being still forty
miles from Kimberley with the enemy in unknown force between. Some
four miles out French came upon their position, two hills with a
long low nek between, from which came a brisk rifle fire supported
by artillery. But French was not only not to be stopped, but could
not even be retarded. Disregarding the Boer fire completely the
cavalry swept in wave after wave over the low nek, and so round the
base of the hills. The Boer riflemen upon the kopjes must have seen
a magnificent military spectacle as regiment after regiment, the
9th Lancers leading, all in very open order, swept across the plain
at a gallop, and so passed over the nek. A few score horses and
half as many men were left behind them, but forty or fifty Boers
were cut down in the pursuit. It appears to have been one of the
very few occasions during the campaign when that obsolete and
absurd weapon the sword was anything but a dead weight to its
bearer.
And now the force had a straight run in before it, for it had
outpaced any further force of Boers which may have been advancing
from the direction of Magersfontein. The horses, which had come a
hundred miles in four days with insufficient food and water, were
so done that it was no uncommon sight to see the trooper not only
walking to ease his horse, but carrying part of his monstrous
weight of saddle gear. But in spite of fatigue the force pressed on
until in the afternoon a distant view was seen, across the reddish
plain, of the brick houses and corrugated roofs of Kimberley. The
Boer besiegers cleared off in front of it, and that night (February
15th) the relieving column camped on the plain two miles away,
while French and his staff rode in to the rescued city.
The war was a cruel one for the cavalry, who were handicapped
throughout by the nature of the country and by the tactics of the
enemy. They are certainly the branch of the service which had least
opportunity for distinction. The work of scouting and patrolling is
the most dangerous which a soldier can undertake, and yet from its
very nature it can find no chronicler. The war correspondent, like
Providence, is always with the big battalions, and there never was
a campaign in which there was more unrecorded heroism, the heroism
of the picket and of the vedette which finds its way into no
newspaper paragraph. But in the larger operations of the war it is
difficult to say that cavalry, as cavalry, have justified their
existence. In the opinion of many the tendency of the future will
be to convert the whole force into mounted infantry. How little is
required to turn our troopers into excellent foot soldiers was
shown at Magersfontein, where the 12th Lancers, dismounted by the
command of their colonel, Lord Airlie, held back the threatened
flank attack all the morning. A little training in taking cover,
leggings instead of boots, and a rifle instead of a carbine would
give us a formidable force of twenty thousand men who could do all
that our cavalry does, and a great deal more besides. It is
undoubtedly possible on many occasions in this war, at Colesberg,
at Diamond Hill, to say 'Here our cavalry did well.' They are brave
men on good horses, and they may be expected to do well. But the
champion of the cavalry cause must point out the occasions where
the cavalry did something which could not have been done by the
same number of equally brave and equally well-mounted infantry.
Only then will the existence of the cavalry be justified. The
lesson both of the South African and of the American civil war is
that the light horseman who is trained to fight on foot is the type
of the future.
A few more words as a sequel to this short sketch of the siege and
relief of Kimberley. Considerable surprise has been expressed that
the great gun at Kamfersdam, a piece which must have weighed many
tons and could not have been moved by bullock teams at a rate of
more than two or three miles an hour, should have eluded our
cavalry. It is indeed a surprising circumstance, and yet it was due
to no inertia on the part of our leaders, but rather to one of the
finest examples of Boer tenacity in the whole course of the war.
The instant that Kekewich was sure of relief he mustered every
available man and sent him out to endeavour to get the gun. It had
already been removed, and its retreat was covered by the strong
position of Dronfield, which was held both by riflemen and by light
artillery. Finding himself unable to force it, Murray, the
commander of the detachment, remained in front of it. Next morning
(Friday) at three o'clock the weary men and horses of two of
French's brigades were afoot with the same object. But still the
Boers were obstinately holding on to Dronfield, and still their
position was too strong to force, and too extended to get round
with exhausted horses. It was not until the night after that the
Boers abandoned their excellent rearguard action, leaving one light
gun in the hands of the Cape Police, but having gained such a start
for their heavy one that French, who had other and more important
objects in view, could not attempt to follow it.
