Добавил:
ivanov666
Опубликованный материал нарушает ваши авторские права? Сообщите нам.
Вуз:
Предмет:
Файл:The Great Boer War
.pdf
THE GREAT BOER WAR
thrown from one to the other. Some scattered sangars still held their
own, though the Boers had passed them. One such, manned by fourteen privates of the Manchester Regiment, remained untaken, but
had only two defenders left at the end of the bloody day.
With the coming of the light the 53rd Field Battery, the one
which had already done so admirably at Lombard’s Kop, again deserved well of its country. It was impossible to get behind the Boers
and fi re straight at their position, so every shell fi red had to skim
over the heads of our own men upon the ridge and so pitch upon
the reverse slope. Yet so accurate was the fi re, carried on under an
incessant rain of shells from the big Dutch gun on Bulwana, that
not one shot miscarried and that Major Abdy and his men succeeded in sweeping the further slope without loss to our own fi ghting
line. Exactly the same feat was equally well performed at the other
end of the position by Major Blewitt’s 21st Battery, which was exposed to an even more searching fi re than the 53rd. Any one who
has seen the iron endurance of British gunners and marvelled at
the answering shot which fl ashes out through the very dust of the
enemy’s exploding shell, will understand how fi ne must have been
the spectacle of these two batteries working in the open, with the
ground round them sharded with splinters. Eye-witnesses have left
it upon record that the sight of Major Blewitt strolling up and down
among his guns, and turning over with his toe the last fallen section
of iron, was one of the most vivid and stirring impressions which
they carried from the fi ght. Here also it was that the gallant Sergeant Bosley, his arm and his leg stricken off by a Boer shell, cried to
his comrades to roll his body off the trail and go on working the gun.
At the same time as – or rather earlier than – the onslaught
upon Caesar’s Camp a similar attack had been made with secrecy
and determination upon the western end of the position called
Waggon Hill. The barefooted Boers burst suddenly with a roll of
211
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
rifl e-fi re into the little garrison of Imperial Light Horse and Sappers
who held the position. Mathias of the former, Digby-Jones and Dennis of the latter, showed that ‘two in the morning’ courage which
Napoleon rated as the highest of military virtues. They and their
men were surprised but not disconcerted, and stood desperately to
a slogging match at the closest quarters. Seventeen Sappers were
down out of thirty, and more than half the little body of irregulars.
This end of the position was feebly fortifi ed, and it is surprising that
so experienced and sound a soldier as Ian Hamilton should have
left it so. The defence had no marked advantage as compared with
the attack, neither trench, sangar, nor wire entanglement, and in
numbers they were immensely inferior. Two companies of the 60th
Rifl es and a small body of the ubiquitous Gordons happened to be
upon the hill and threw themselves into the fray, but they were
unable to turn the tide. Of thirty-three Gordons under Lieutenant
3
MacNaughten thirty were wounded.
shelter of the northern slope they were reinforced by another hundred and fi fty Gordons under the stalwart Miller-Wallnutt, a man
cast in the mould of a Berserk Viking. To their aid also came two
hundred of the Imperial Light Horse, burning to assist their comrades. Another half-battalion of Rifl es came with them. At each end
of the long ridge the situation at the dawn of day was almost identical. In each the stormers had seized one side, but were brought to
a stand by the defenders upon the other, while the British guns fi red
over the heads of their own infantry to rake the further slope.
It was on the Waggon Hill side, however, that the Boer exertions
were most continuous and strenuous and our own resistance most
desperate. There fought the gallant de Villiers, while Ian Hamilton
As our men retired under the
3
The Gordons and the Sappers were there that morning to re-escort one of Lambton's 4.7 guns, which was to be mounted there. Ten seamen were with the gun, and lost three of their number in the defence.
212
THE GREAT BOER WAR
rallied the defenders and led them in repeated rushes against the
enemy’s line. Continually reinforced from below, the Boers fought
with extraordinary resolution. Never will any one who witnessed
that Homeric contest question the valour of our foes. It was a murderous business on both sides. Edwardes of the Light Horse was
struck down. In a gun-emplacement a strange encounter took place
at point-blank range between a group of Boers and of Britons. De
Villiers of the Free State shot Miller-Wallnut dead, Ian Hamilton
fi red at de Villiers with his revolver and missed him. Young Albrecht of the Light Horse shot de Villiers. A Boer named de Jaeger
shot Albrecht. Digby-Jones of the Sappers shot de Jaeger. Only a few
minutes later the gallant lad, who had already won fame enough for
a veteran, was himself mortally wounded, and Dennis, his comrade
in arms and in glory, fell by his side.
There has been no better fi ghting in our time than that upon
Waggon Hill on that January morning, and no better fi ghters than
the Imperial Light Horsemen who formed the centre of the defence.
Here, as at Elandslaagte, they proved themselves worthy to stand in
line with the crack regiments of the British army.
Through the long day the fi ght maintained its equilibrium along
the summit of the ridge, swaying a little that way or this, but never
amounting to a repulse of the stormers or to a rout of the defenders.
So intermixed were the combatants that a wounded man more than
once found himself a rest for the rifl es of his enemies. One unfortunate soldier in this position received six more bullets from his own
comrades in their efforts to reach the deadly rifl eman behind him.
At four o’clock a huge bank of clouds which had towered upwards
unheeded by the struggling men burst suddenly into a terrifi c thunderstorm with vivid lightnings and lashing rain. It is curious that
the British victory at Elandslaagte was heralded by just such another
storm. Up on the bullet-swept hill the long fringes of fi ghting men
213
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
took no more heed of the elements than would two bulldogs who
have each other by the throat. Up the greasy hillside, foul with mud
and with blood, came the Boer reserves, and up the northern slope
came our own reserve, the Devon Regiment, fi t representatives of
that virile county. Admirably led by Park, their gallant Colonel, the
Devons swept the Boers before them, and the Rifl es, Gordons, and
Light Horse joined in the wild charge which fi nally cleared the ridge.
But the end was not yet. The Boer had taken a risk over this
venture, and now he had to pay the stakes. Down the hill he passed,
crouching, darting, but the spruits behind him were turned into
swirling streams, and as he hesitated for an instant upon the brink
the relentless sleet of bullets came from behind. Many were swept
away down the gorges and into the Klip River, never again to be accounted for in the lists of their fi eld-cornet. The majority splashed
through, found their horses in their shelter, and galloped off across
the great Bulwana Plain, as fairly beaten in as fair a fi ght as ever
brave men were yet.
The cheers of victory as the Devons swept the ridge had heartened the weary men upon Caesar’s Camp to a similar effort. Manchesters, Gordons, and Rifl es, aided by the fi re of two batteries,
cleared the long-debated position. Wet, cold, weary, and without
food for twenty-six hours, the bedraggled Tommies stood yelling
and waving, amid the litter of dead and of dying.
It was a near thing. Had the ridge fallen the town must have followed, and history perhaps have been changed. In the old stiff-rank
Majuba days we should have been swept in an hour from the position. But the wily man behind the rock was now to fi nd an equally
wily man in front of him. The soldier had at last learned something
of the craft of the hunter. He clung to his shelter, he dwelled on his
aim, he ignored his dressings, he laid aside the eighteenth-century
traditions of his pigtailed ancestor, and he hit the Boers harder than
214
THE GREAT BOER WAR
they had been hit yet. No return may ever come to us of their losses
on that occasion; 80 dead bodies were returned to them from the
ridge alone, while the slopes, the dongas, and the river each had its
own separate tale. No possible estimate can make it less than three
hundred killed and wounded, while many place it at a much higher
fi gure. Our own casualties were very serious and the proportion of
dead to wounded unusually high, owing to the fact that the greater
part of the wounds were necessarily of the head. In killed we lost 13
offi cers, 135 men. In wounded 28 offi cers, 244 men – a total of 420,
Lord Ava, the honoured Son of an honoured father, the fi ery DickCunyngham, stalwart Miller-Wallnutt, the brave boy sappers Digby-Jones and Dennis, Adams and Packman of the Light Horse, the
chivalrous Lafone – we had to mourn quality as well as numbers.
The grim test of the casualty returns shows that it was to the Imperial Light Horse (ten offi cers down, and the regiment commanded
by a junior captain), the Manchesters, the Gordons, the Devons, and
the 2nd Rifl e Brigade that the honours of the day are due.
In the course of the day two attacks had been made upon other
points of the British position, the one on Observation Hill on the
north, the other on the Helpmakaar position on the east. Of these
the latter was never pushed home and was an obvious feint, but in
the case of the other it was not until Schutte, their commander, and
forty or fi fty men had been killed and wounded, that the stormers
abandoned their attempt. At every point the assailants found the
same scattered but impenetrable fringe of rifl emen, and the same
energetic batteries waiting for them.
Throughout the Empire the course of this great struggle was
watched with the keenest solicitude and with all that painful emotion which springs from impotent sympathy. By heliogram to Buller,
and so to the farthest ends of that great body whose nerves are the
telegraphic wires, there came the announcement of the attack. Then
215
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
after an interval of hours came ‘everywhere repulsed, but fi ghting
continues.’ Then, ‘Attack continues. Enemy reinforced from the
south.’ Then ‘Attack renewed. Very hard pressed.’ There the messages ended for the day, leaving the Empire black with apprehension.
The darkest forecasts and most dreary anticipations were indulged
by the most temperate and best-informed London papers. For the
fi rst time the very suggestion that the campaign might be above our
strength was made to the public. And then at last there came the offi cial news of the repulse of the assault. Far away at Ladysmith, the
weary men and their sorely tried offi cers gathered to return thanks
to God for His manifold mercies, but in London also hearts were
stricken solemn by the greatness of the crisis, and lips long unused
to prayer joined in the devotions of the absent warriors.
XIV.
THE COLESBERG OPERATIONS
Of the four British armies in the fi eld I have attempted to tell the
story of the western one which advanced to help Kimberley, of the
eastern one which was repulsed at Colenso, and of the central one
which was checked at Stormberg. There remains one other central
one, some account of which must now be given.
It was, as has already been pointed out, a long three weeks after
the declaration of war before the forces of the Orange Free State began to invade Cape Colony. But for this most providential delay it is
probable that the ultimate fi ghting would have been, not among the
mountains and kopjes of Stormberg and Colesberg, but amid those
formidable passes which lie in the Hex Valley, immediately to the
north of Cape Town, and that the armies of the invader would have
been doubled by their kinsmen of the Colony. The ultimate result of
the war must have been the same, but the sight of all South Africa in
fl ames might have brought about those Continental complications
which have always been so grave a menace.
The invasion of the Colony was at two points along the line of
the two railways which connect the countries, the one passing over
the Orange River at Norval’s Pont and the other at Bethulie, about
forty miles to the eastward. There were no British troops available
(a fact to be considered by those, if any remain, who imagine that
the British entertained any design against the Republics), and the
Boers jogged slowly southward amid a Dutch population who hesi-
217
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
tated between their unity of race and speech and their knowledge
of just and generous treatment by the Empire. A large number were
won over by the invaders, and, like all apostates, distinguished
themselves by their virulence and harshness towards their loyal
neighbours. Here and there in towns which were off the railway
line, in Barkly East or Ladygrey, the farmers met together with rifl e
and bandolier, tied orange puggarees round their hats, and rode off
to join the enemy. Possibly these ignorant and isolated men hardly
recognised what it was that they were doing. They have found out
since. In some of the border districts the rebels numbered ninety per
cent of the Dutch population.
In the meanwhile, the British leaders had been strenuously endeavouring to scrape together a few troops with which to make some
stand against the enemy. For this purpose two small forces were
necessary – the one to oppose the advance through Bethulie and
Stormberg, the other to meet the invaders, who, having passed the
river at Norval’s Pont, had now occupied Colesberg. The former task
was, as already shown, committed to General Gatacre. The latter was
allotted to General French, the victor of Elandslaagte, who had escaped in the very last train from Ladysmith, and had taken over this
new and important duty. French’s force assembled at Arundel and
Gatacre’s at Sterkstroom. It is with the operations of the former that
we have now to deal.
General French, for whom South Africa has for once proved not
the grave but the cradle of a reputation, had before the war gained
some name as a smart and energetic cavalry offi cer. There were some
who, watching his handling of a considerable body of horse at the
great Salisbury manoeuvres in 1898, conceived the highest opinion of his capacity, and it was due to the strong support of General Buller, who had commanded in these peaceful operations, that
French received his appointment for South Africa. In person he is
218
THE GREAT BOER WAR
short and thick, with a pugnacious jaw. In character he is a man of
cold persistence and of fi ery energy, cautious and yet audacious,
weighing his actions well, but carrying them out with the dash
which befi ts a mounted leader. He is remarkable for the quickness
of his decision – ‘can think at a gallop,’ as an admirer expressed it.
Such was the man, alert, resourceful, and determined, to whom was
entrusted the holding back of the Colesberg Boers.
Although the main advance of the invaders was along the lines
of the two railways, they ventured, as they realised how weak the
forces were which opposed them, to break off both to the east and
west, occupying Dordrecht on one side and Steynsberg on the other.
Nothing of importance accrued from the possession of these points,
and our attention may be concentrated upon the main line of action.
French’s original force was a mere handful of men, scraped together from anywhere. Naauwpoort was his base, and thence he
made a reconnaissance by rail on November 23rd towards Arundel,
the next hamlet along the line, taking with him a company of the
Black Watch, forty mounted infantry, and a troop of the New South
Wales Lancers. Nothing resulted from the expedition save that the
two forces came into touch with each other, a touch which was sustained for months under many vicissitudes, until the invaders were
driven back once more over Norval’s Pont. Finding that Arundel
was weakly held, French advanced up to it, and established his camp
there towards the end of December, within six miles of the Boer
lines at Rensburg, to the south of Colesberg. His mission – with his
present forces – was to prevent the further advance of the enemy
into the Colony, but he was not strong enough yet to make a serious
attempt to drive them out.
Before the move to Arundel on December 13th his detachment
had increased in size, and consisted largely of mounted men, so that
it attained a mobility very unusual for a British force. On December
219
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
13th there was an attempt upon the part of the Boers to advance
south, which was easily held by the British Cavalry and Horse Artillery. The country over which French was operating is dotted with
those singular kopjes which the Boer loves – kopjes which are often
so grotesque in shape that one feels as if they must be due to some
error of refraction when one looks at them. But, on the other hand,
between these hills there lie wide stretches of the green or russet
savanna, the noblest fi eld that a horseman or a horse gunner could
wish. The rifl emen clung to the hills, French’s troopers circled warily upon the plain, gradually contracting the Boer position by threatening to cut off this or that outlying kopje, and so the enemy was
slowly herded into Colesberg. The small but mobile British force
covered a very large area, and hardly a day passed that one or other
part of it did not come in contact with the enemy. With one regiment of infantry (the Berkshires) to hold the centre, his hard-riding
Tasmanians, New Zealanders, and Australians, with the Scots Greys,
the Inniskillings, and the Carabineers, formed an elastic but impenetrable screen to cover the Colony. They were aided by two batteries,
O and R, of Horse Artillery. Every day General French rode out and
made a close personal examination of the enemy’s position, while
his scouts and outposts were instructed to maintain the closest possible touch.
On December 30th the enemy abandoned Rensburg, which
had been their advanced post, and concentrated at Colesberg, upon
which French moved his force up and seized Rensburg. The very
next day, December 31st, he began a vigorous and long-continued
series of operations. At fi ve o’clock on Sunday evening he moved out
of Rensburg camp, with R and half of O batteries R.H.A., the 10th
Hussars, the Inniskillings, and the Berkshires, to take up a position
on the west of Colesberg. At the same time Colonel Porter, with the
half-battery of O, his own regiment (the Carabineers), and the New
220
Соседние файлы в предмете [НЕСОРТИРОВАННОЕ]