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THE GREAT BOER WAR
open position, such as faced Methuen, it is very hard and requires
great celerity of movement ever to fi nd a fl ank at all. On a succession
of hills, however, it was evident that some one hill must mark the
extreme end of their line, and Buller had found it at Cingolo. Their
answer to this movement was to throw their fl ank back so as to face
the new position.
Even now, however, the Boer leaders had apparently not realised
that this was the main attack, or it is possible that the intervention
of the river made it diffi cult for them to send reinforcements. However that may be, it is certain that the task which the British found
awaiting them on the 18th proved to be far easier than they had
dared to hope. The honours of the day rested with Hildyard’s English Brigade (East Surrey, West Surrey, West Yorkshires, and 2nd
Devons). In open order and with a rapid advance, taking every advantage of the cover – which was better than is usual in South African warfare – they gained the edge of the Monte Christo ridge, and
then swiftly cleared the crest. One at least of the regiments engaged,
the Devons, was nerved by the thought that their own fi rst battalion
was waiting for them at Ladysmith. The capture of the hill made the
line of trenches which faced Buller untenable, and he was at once
able to advance with Barton’s Fusilier Brigade and to take possession
of the whole Boer position of Hlangwane and Green Hill. It was not
a great tactical victory, for they had no trophies to show save the
worthless debris of the Boer camps. But it was a very great strategical victory, for it not only gave them the whole south side of the
Tugela, but also the means of commanding with their guns a great
deal of the north side, including those Colenso trenches which had
blocked the way so long. A hundred and seventy killed and wounded (of whom only fourteen were killed) was a trivial price for such
a result. At last from the captured ridges the exultant troops could
see far away the haze which lay over the roofs of Ladysmith, and the
261
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
besieged, with hearts beating high with hope, turned their glasses
upon the distant mottled patches which told them that their comrades were approaching.
By February 20th the British had fi rmly established themselves
along the whole south bank of the river, Hart’s brigade had occupied
Colenso, and the heavy guns had been pushed up to more advanced
positions. The crossing of the river was the next operation, and the
question arose where it should be crossed. The wisdom which comes
with experience shows us now that it would have been infi nitely
better to have crossed on their extreme left fl ank, as by an advance
upon this line we should have turned their strong Pieters position
just as we had already turned their Colenso one. With an absolutely
master card in our hand we refused to play it, and won the game by
a more tedious and perilous process. The assumption seems to have
been made (on no other hypothesis can one understand the facts)
that the enemy were demoralised and that the positions would not
be strongly held. Our fl anking advantage was abandoned and a direct advance was ordered from Colenso, involving a frontal attack
upon the Pieters position.
On February 21st Buller threw his pontoon bridge over the
river near Colenso, and the same evening his army began to cross.
It was at once evident that the Boer resistance had by no means collapsed. Wynne’s Lancashire Brigade were the fi rst across, and found
themselves hotly engaged before nightfall. The low kopjes in front
of them were blazing with musketry fi re. The brigade held its own,
but lost the Brigadier (the second in a month) and 150 rank and fi le.
Next morning the main body of the infantry was passed across, and
the army was absolutely committed to the formidable and unnecessary enterprise of fi ghting its way straight to Ladysmith.
The force in front had weakened, however, both in numbers and
in morale. Some thousands of the Freestaters had left in order to
262
THE GREAT BOER WAR
defend their own country from the advance of Roberts, while the
rest were depressed by as much of the news as was allowed by their
leaders to reach them. But the Boer is a tenacious fi ghter, and many
a brave man was still to fall before Buller and White should shake
hands in the High Street of Ladysmith.
The fi rst obstacle which faced the army, after crossing the river,
was a belt of low rolling ground, which was gradually cleared by
the advance of our infantry. As night closed in the advance lines of
Boers and British were so close to each other that incessant rifl e fi re
was maintained until morning, and at more than one point small
bodies of desperate rifl emen c harged right up to the bayonets of our
infantry. The morning found us still holding our positions all along
the line, and as more and more of our infantry came up and gun
after gun roared into action we began to push our stubborn enemy
northwards. On the 21st the Dorsets, Middlesex, and Somersets had
borne the heat of the day. On the 22nd it was the Royal Lancasters, followed by the South Lancashires, who took up the running.
It would take the patience and also the space of a Kinglake in this
scrambling broken fi ght to trace the doings of those groups of men
who strove and struggled through the rifl e fi re. All day a steady advance was maintained over the low kopjes, until by evening we were
faced by the more serious line of the Pieter’s Hills. The operations
had been carried out with a monotony of gallantry. Always the same
extended advance, always the same rattle of Mausers and clatter of
pom-poms from a ridge, always the same victorious soldiers on the
barren crest, with a few crippled Boers before them and many crippled comrades behind. They were expensive triumphs, and yet every
one brought them nearer to their goal. And now, like an advancing
tide, they lapped along the base of Pieter’s Hill. Could they gather
volume enough to carry themselves over? The issue of the longdrawn battle and the fate of Ladysmith hung upon the question.
263
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
Brigadier Fitzroy Hart, to whom the assault was entrusted, is in
some ways as singular and picturesque a type as has been evolved
in the war. A dandy soldier, always the picture of neatness from the
top of his helmet to the heels of his well-polished brown boots, he
brings to military matters the same precision which he affects in
dress. Pedantic in his accuracy, he actually at the battle of Colenso
drilled the Irish Brigade for half an hour before leading them into
action, and threw out markers under a deadly fi re in order that his
change from close to extended formation might be academically
correct. The heavy loss of the Brigade at this action was to some extent ascribed to him and affected his popularity; but as his men came
to know him better, his romantic bravery, his whimsical soldierly
humour, their dislike changed into admiration. His personal disregard for danger was notorious and reprehensible. ‘Where is General
Hart?’ asked some one in action. ‘I have not seen him, but I know
where you will fi nd him. Go ahead of the skirmish line and you will
see him standing on a rock,’ was the answer. He bore a charmed life.
It was a danger to be near him. ‘Whom are you going to?’ ‘General Hart,’ said the aide-de-camp. ‘Then good-bye!’ cried his fellows.
A grim humour ran through his nature. It is gravely recorded and
widely believed that he lined up a regiment on a hill-top in order to
teach them not to shrink from fi re. Amid the laughter of his Irishmen, he walked through the open fi les of his fi ring line holding
a laggard by the ear. This was the man who had put such a spirit
into the Irish Brigade that amid that army of valiant men there were
none who held such a record. ‘Their rushes were the quickest, their
rushes were the longest, and they stayed the shortest time under
cover,’ said a shrewd military observer. To Hart and his brigade was
given the task of clearing the way to Ladysmith.
The regiments which he took with him on his perilous enterprise were the 1st Inniskilling Fusiliers, the 2nd Dublin Fusiliers,
264
THE GREAT BOER WAR
the 1st Connaught Rangers, and the Imperial Light Infantry, the
whole forming the famous 5th Brigade. They were already in the
extreme British advance, and now, as they moved forwards, the
Durham Light Infantry and the 1st Rifl e Brigade from Lyttelton’s
Brigade came up to take their place. The hill to be taken lay on the
right, and the soldiers were compelled to pass in single fi le under
a heavy fi re for more than a mile until they reached the spot which
seemed best for their enterprise. There, short already of sixty of
their comrades, they assembled and began a cautious advance upon
the lines of trenches and sangars which seamed the brown slope
above them.
For a time they were able to keep some cover, and the casualties
were comparatively few. But now at last, as the evening sun threw
a long shadow from the hills, the leading regiment, the Inniskillings, found themselves at the utmost fringe of boulders with a clear
slope between them and the main trench of the enemy. Up there
where the shrapnel was spurting and the great lyddite shells crashing they could dimly see a line of bearded faces and the black dots
of the slouch hats. With a yell the Inniskillings sprang out, carried
with a rush the fi rst trench, and charged desperately onwards for the
second one. It was a supremely dashing attack against a supremely
steady resistance, for among all their gallant deeds the Boers have
never fought better than on that February evening. Amid such
a smashing shell fi re as living mortals have never yet endured they
stood doggedly, these hardy men of the veld, and fi red fast and true
into the fi ery ranks of the Irishmen. The yell of the stormers was answered by the remorseless roar of the Mausers and the deep-chested
shouts of the farmers. Up and up surged the infantry, falling, rising,
dashing bull-headed at the crackling line of the trench. But still the
bearded faces glared at them over the edge, and still the sheet of lead
pelted through their ranks. The regiment staggered, came on, stag-
265
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
gered again, was overtaken by supporting companies of the Dublins
and the Connaughts, came on, staggered once more, and fi nally dissolved into shreds, who ran swiftly back for cover, threading their
way among their stricken comrades. Never on this earth was there
a retreat of which the survivors had less reason to be ashamed. They
had held on to the utmost capacity of human endurance. Their
Colonel, ten offi cers, and more than half the regiment were lying
on the fatal hill. Honour to them, and honour also to the gallant
Dutchmen who, rooted in the trenches, had faced the rush and fury
of such an onslaught! Today to them, tomorrow to us – but it is for
a soldier to thank the God of battles for worthy foes.
It is one thing, however, to repulse the British soldier and it is
another to rout him. Within a few hundred yards of their horrible
ordeal at Magersfontein the Highlanders reformed into a military
body. So now the Irishmen fell back no further than the nearest
cover, and there held grimly on to the ground which they had won.
If you would know the advantage which the defence has over the attack, then do you come and assault this line of tenacious men, now
in your hour of victory and exultation, friend Boer! Friend Boer did
attempt it, and skilfully too, moving a fl anking party to sweep the
position with their fi re. But the brigade, though sorely hurt, held
them off without diffi culty, and was found on the morning of the
24th to be still lying upon the ground which they had won.
Our losses had been very heavy, Colonel Thackeray of the Inniskillings, Colonel Sitwell of the Dublins, three majors, twenty
offi cers, and a total of about six hundred out of 1200 actually engaged. To take such punishment and to remain undemoralised is
the supreme test to which troops can be put. Could the loss have
been avoided? By following the original line of advance from Monte
Christo, perhaps, when we should have turned the enemy’s left. But
otherwise no. The hill was in the way and had to be taken. In the war
266
THE GREAT BOER WAR
game you cannot play without a stake. You lose and you pay forfeit,
and where the game is fair the best player is he who pays with the
best grace. The attack was well prepared, well delivered, and only
miscarried on account of the excellence of the defence. We proved
once more what we had proved so often before, that all valour and
all discipline will not avail in a frontal attack against brave coolheaded men armed with quick-fi ring rifl es.
While the Irish Brigade assaulted Railway Hill an attack had
been made upon the left, which was probably meant as a demonstration to keep the Boers from reinforcing their comrades rather
than as an actual attempt upon their lines. Such as it was, however,
it cost the life of at least one brave soldier, for Colonel Thorold, of
the Welsh Fusiliers, was among the fallen. Thorold, Thackeray, and
Sitwell in one evening. Who can say that British colonels have not
given their men a lead?
The army was now at a deadlock. Railway Hill barred the way,
and if Hart’s men could not carry it by assault it was hard to say
who could. The 24th found the two armies facing each other at this
critical point, the Irishmen still clinging to the slopes of the hill
and the Boers lining the top. Fierce rifl e fi ring broke out between
them during the day, but each side was well covered and lay low.
The troops in support suffered somewhat, however, from a random
shell fi re. Mr. Winston Churchill has left it upon record that within
his own observation three of their shrapnel shells fi red at a venture
on to the reverse slope of a hill accounted for nineteen men and
four horses. The enemy can never have known how hard those three
shells had hit us, and so we may also believe that our artillery fi re
has often been less futile than it appeared.
General Buller had now realised that it was no mere rearguard
action which the Boers were fi ghting, but that their army was standing doggedly at bay; so he reverted to that fl anking movement
267
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
which, as events showed, should never have been abandoned. Hart’s
Irish Brigade was at present almost the right of the army. His new
plan – a masterly one – was to keep Hart pinning the Boers at that
point, and to move his centre and left across the river, and then back
to envelope the left wing of the enemy. By this manoeuvre Hart became the extreme left instead of the extreme right, and the Irish Brigade would be the hinge upon which the whole army should turn.
It was a large conception, fi nely carried out. The 24th was a day of
futile shell fi re – and of plans for the future. The heavy guns were
got across once more to the Monte Christo ridge and to Hlangwane,
and preparations made to throw the army from the west to the east.
The enemy still snarled and occasionally snapped in front of Hart’s
men, but with four companies of the 2nd Rifl e Brigade to protect
their fl anks their position remained secure.
In the meantime, through a contretemps between our outposts and the Boers, no leave had been given to us to withdraw our
wounded, and the unfortunate fellows, some hundreds of them, had
lain between the lines in agonies of thirst for thirty-six hours – one
of the most painful incidents of the campaign. Now, upon the 25th,
an armistice was proclaimed, and the crying needs of the survivors
were attended to. On the same day the hearts of our soldiers sank
within them as they saw the stream of our wagons and guns crossing
the river once more. What, were they foiled again? Was the blood of
these brave men to be shed in vain? They ground their teeth at the
thought. The higher strategy was not for them, but back was back
and forward was forward, and they knew which way their proud
hearts wished to go.
The 26th was occupied by the large movements of troops which
so complete a reversal of tactics necessitated. Under the screen of
a heavy artillery fi re, the British right became the left and the left
the right. A second pontoon bridge was thrown across near the old
268
THE GREAT BOER WAR
Boer bridge at Hlangwane, and over it was passed a large force of
infantry, Barton’s Fusilier Brigade, Kitchener’s (vice Wynne’s, vice
Woodgate’s) Lancashire Brigade, and two battalions of Norcott’s
(formerly Lyttelton’s) Brigade. Coke’s Brigade was left at Colenso to
prevent a counter attack upon our left fl ank and communications.
In this way, while Hart with the Durhams and the 1st Rifl e Brigade held the Boers in front, the main body of the army was rapidly
swung round on to their left fl ank. By the morning of the 27th all
were in place for the new attack.
Opposite the point where the troops had been massed were
three Boer hills; one, the nearest, may for convenience sake be called
Barton’s Hill. As the army had formerly been situated the assault
upon this hill would have been a matter of extreme diffi culty; but
now, with the heavy guns restored to their commanding position,
from which they could sweep its sides and summits, it had recovered its initial advantage. In the morning sunlight Barton’s Fusiliers crossed the river, and advanced to the attack under a screaming
canopy of shells. Up they went and up, darting and crouching, until
their gleaming bayonets sparkled upon the summit. The masterful
artillery had done its work, and the fi rst long step taken in this last
stage of the relief of Ladysmith. The loss had been slight and the
advantage enormous. After they had gained the summit the Fusiliers
were stung and stung again by clouds of skirmishers who clung to
the fl anks of the hill, but their grip was fi rm and grew fi rmer with
every hour.
Of the three Boer hills which had to be taken the nearest (or eastern one) was now in the hands of the British. The furthest (or western one) was that on which the Irish Brigade was still crouching,
ready at any moment for a fi nal spring which would take them over
the few hundred yards which separated them from the trenches. Between the two intervened a central hill, as yet untouched. Could
269
ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
we carry this the whole position would be ours. Now for the fi nal
effort! Turn every gun upon it, the guns of Monte Christo, the guns
of Hlangwane! Turn every rifl e upon it – the rifl es of Barton’s men,
the rifl es of Hart’s men, the carbines of the distant cavalry! Scalp its
crown with the machine-gun fi re! And now up with you, Lancashire
men, Norcott’s men! The summit or a glorious death, for beyond
that hill your suffering comrades are awaiting you! Put every bullet
and every man and all of fi re and spirit that you are worth into this
last hour; for if you fail now you have failed for ever, and if you win,
then when your hairs are white your blood will still run warm when
you think of that morning’s work. The long drama had drawn to an
end, and one short day’s work is to show what that end was to be.
But there was never a doubt of it. Hardly for one instant did the
advance waver at any point of its extended line. It was the supreme
instant of the Natal campaign, as, wave after wave, the long lines
of infantry went shimmering up the hill. On the left the Lancasters, the Lancashire Fusiliers, the South Lancashires, the York and
Lancasters, with a burr of north country oaths, went racing for the
summit. Spion Kop and a thousand comrades were calling for vengeance. ‘Remember, men, the eyes of Lancashire are watching you,’
cried the gallant MacCarthy O’Leary. The old 40th swept on, but his
dead body marked the way which they had taken. On the right the
East Surrey, the, Cameronians, the 3rd Rifl es, the 1st Rifl e Brigade,
the Durhams, and the gallant Irishmen, so sorely stricken and yet so
eager, were all pressing upwards and onwards. The Boer fi re lulls, it
ceases – they are running! Wild hat-waving men upon the Hlangwane uplands see the silhouette of the active fi gures of the stormers along the sky-line and know that the position is theirs. Exultant
soldiers dance and cheer upon the ridge. The sun is setting in glory
over the great Drakensberg mountains, and so also that night set for
ever the hopes of the Boer invaders of Natal. Out of doubt and cha-
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