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Chapter 9


Lord Methuen's force had now fought three actions in the space of a
single week, losing in killed and wounded about a thousand men, or
rather more than one-tenth of its total numbers. Had there been
evidence that the enemy were seriously demoralised, the General would
no doubt have pushed on at once to Kimberley, which was some twenty
miles distant. The information which reached him was, however, that
the Boers had fallen back upon the very strong position of
Spytfontein, that they were full of fight, and that they had been
strongly reinforced by a commando from Mafeking. Under these
circumstances Lord Methuen had no choice but to give his men a
well-earned rest, and to await reinforcements. There was no use in
reaching Kimberley unless he had completely defeated the investing
force. With the history of the first relief of Lucknow in his memory
he was on his guard against a repetition of such an experience.

It was the more necessary that Methuen should strengthen his position,
since with every mile which he advanced the more exposed did his line
of communications become to a raid from Fauresmith and the southern
districts of the Orange Free State. Any serious danger to the railway
behind them would leave the British Army in a very critical position,
and precautions were taken for the protection of the more vulnerable
portions of the line. It was well that this was so, for on the 8th of
December Commandant Prinsloo, of the Orange Free State, with a
thousand horsemen and two light seven-pounder guns, appeared suddenly
at Enslin and vigorously attacked the two companies of the Northampton
Regiment who held the station. At the same time they destroyed a
couple of culverts and tore up three hundred yards of the permanent
way. For some hours the Northamptons under Captain Godley were closely
pressed, but a telegram had been despatched to Modder Camp, and the
12th Lancers with the ubiquitous 62nd Battery were sent to their
assistance. The Boers retired with their usual mobility, and in ten
hours the line was completely restored.

Reinforcements were now reaching the Modder River force, which made it
more formidable than when it had started. A very essential addition
was that of the 12th Lancers and of G battery of Horse Artillery,
which would increase the mobility of the force and make it possible
for the General to follow up a blow after he had struck it. The
magnificent regiments which formed the Highland Brigade -- the 2nd
Black Watch, the 1st Gordons, the 2nd Seaforths, and the 1st Highland
Light Infantry had arrived under the gallant and ill-fated
Wauchope. Four five-inch howitzers had also come to strengthen the
artillery. At the same time the Canadians, the Australians, and
several line regiments were moved up on the line from De Aar to
Belmont. It appeared to the public at home that there was the
material for an overwhelming advance; but the ordinary observer, and
even perhaps the military critic, had not yet appreciated how great is
the advantage which is given by modern weapons to the force which acts
upon the defensive. With enormous pains Cronje and De la Rey were
entrenching a most formidable position in front of our advance, with a
confidence, which proved to be justified that it would be on their own
ground and under their own conditions that in this, as in the three
preceding actions, we should engage them.

On the morning of Saturday, December 9th, the British General made an
attempt to find out what lay in front of him amid that semicircle of
forbidding hills. To this end he sent out a reconnaissance in the
early morning, which included G Battery Horse Artillery, the 9th
Lancers, and the ponderous 4-7 naval gun, which, preceded by the
majestic march of thirty-two bullocks and attended by eighty seamen
gunners, creaked forwards over the plain. What was there to shoot at
in those sunlit boulder-strewn hills in front? They lay silent and
untenanted in the glare of the African day. In vain the great gun
exploded its huge shell with its fifty pounds of lyddite over the
ridges, in vain the smaller pieces searched every cleft and hollow
with their shrapnel. No answer came from the far-stretching hills.
Not a flash or twinkle betrayed the fierce bands who lurked among the
boulders. The force returned to camp no wiser than when it left.

There was one sight visible every night to all men which might well
nerve the rescuers in their enterprise. Over the northern horizon,
behind those hills of danger, there quivered up in the darkness one
long, flashing, quivering beam, which swung up and down, and up again
like a seraphic sword-blade. It was Kimberley praying for help,
Kimberley solicitous for news. Anxiously, distractedly, the great De
Beers searchlight dipped and rose. And back across the twenty miles
of darkness, over the hills where Cronje lurked, there came that other
southern column of light which answered, and promised, and soothed.
'Be of good heart, Kimberley. We are here! The Empire is behind us.
We have not forgotten you. It may be days, or it may be weeks, but
rest assured that we are coming.'

About three in the afternoon of Sunday, December 10th, the force which
was intended to clear a path for the army through the lines of
Magersfontein moved out upon what proved to be its desperate
enterprise. The 3rd or Highland Brigade included the Black Watch, the
Seaforths, the Argyll and Sutherlands, and the Highland Light
Infantry. The Gordons had only arrived in camp that day, and did not
advance until next morning. Besides the infantry, the 9th Lancers, the
mounted infantry, and all the artillery moved to the front. It was
raining hard, and the men with one blanket between two soldiers
bivouacked upon the cold damp ground, about three miles from the
enemy's position. At one o'clock, without food, and drenched, they
moved forwards through the drizzle and the darkness to attack those
terrible lines. Major Benson, R.A., with two of Rimington's scouts,
led them on their difficult way.

Clouds drifted low in the heavens, and the falling rain made the
darkness more impenetrable. The Highland Brigade was formed into a
column -- the Black Watch in front, then the Seaforths, and the other
two behind. To prevent the men from straggling in the night the four
regiments were packed into a mass of quarter column as densely as was
possible, and the left guides held a rope in order to preserve the
formation. With many a trip and stumble the ill-fated detachment
wandered on, uncertain where they were going and what it was that they
were meant to do. Not only among the rank and file, but among the
principal officers also, there was the same absolute
ignorance. Brigadier Wauchope knew, no doubt, but his voice was soon
to be stilled in death. The others were aware, of course, that they
were advancing either to turn the enemy's trenches or to attack them,
but they may well have argued from their own formation that they could
not be near the riflemen yet. Why they should be still advancing in
that dense clump we do not now know, nor can we surmise what thoughts
were passing through the mind of the gallant and experienced chieftain
who walked beside them. There are some who claim on the night before
to have seen upon his strangely ascetic face that shadow of doom which
is summed up in the one word 'fey.' The hand of coming death may
already have lain cold upon his soul. Out there, close beside him,
stretched the long trench, fringed with its line of fierce, staring,
eager faces, and its bristle of gun-barrels. They knew he was
coming. They were ready. They were waiting. But still, with the dull
murmur of many feet, the dense column, nearly four thousand strong,
wandered onwards through the rain and the darkness, death and
mutilation crouching upon their path.

It matters not what gave the signal, whether it was the flashing of a
lantern by a Boer scout, or the tripping of a soldier over wire, or
the firing of a gun in the ranks. It may have been any, or it may have
been none, of these things. As a matter of fact I have been assured by
a Boer who was present that it was the sound of the tins attached to
the alarm wires which disturbed them. However this may be, in an
instant there crashed out of the darkness into their faces and ears a
roar of point-blank fire, and the night was slashed across with the
throbbing flame of the rifles. At the moment before this outflame some
doubt as to their whereabouts seems to have flashed across the mind of
their leaders. The order to extend had just been given, but the men
bad not had time to act upon it. The storm of lead burst upon the
head and right flank of the column, which broke to pieces under the
murderous volley. Wauchope was shot, struggled up, and fell once more
for ever. Rumour has placed words of reproach upon his dying lips, but
his nature, both gentle and soldierly, forbids the supposition. 'What
a pity!' was the only utterance which a brother Highlander ascribes to
him. Men went down in swathes, and a howl of rage and agony, heard
afar over the veldt, swelled up from the frantic and struggling crowd.
By the hundred they dropped -- some dead, some wounded, some knocked
down by the rush and sway of the broken ranks. It was a horrible
business. At such a range and in such a formation a single Mauser
bullet may well pass through many men. A few dashed forwards, and
were found dead at the very edges of the trench. The few survivors of
companies A, B, and C of the Black Watch appear to have never actually
retired, but to have clung on to the immediate front of the Boer
trenches, while the remains of the other five companies tried to turn
the Boer flank. Of the former body only six got away unhurt in the
evening after lying all day within two hundred yards of the enemy. The
rest of the brigade broke and, disentangling themselves with
difficulty from the dead and the dying, fled back out of that accursed
place. Some, the most unfortunate of all, became caught in the
darkness in the wire defences, and were found in the morning hung up
'like crows,' as one spectator describes it, and riddled with bullets.

Who shall blame the Highlanders for retiring when they did? Viewed,
not by desperate and surprised men, but in all calmness and sanity, it
may well seem to have been the very best thing which they could do.
Dashed into chaos, separated from their officers, with no one who knew
what was to be done, the first necessity was to gain shelter from this
deadly fire, which had already stretched six hundred of their number
upon the ground. The danger was that men so shaken would be stricken
with panic, scatter in the darkness over the face of the country, and
cease to exist as a military unit. But the Highlanders were true to
their character and their traditions. There was shouting in the
darkness, hoarse voices calling for the Seaforths, for the Argylls,
for Company C, for Company H, and everywhere in the gloom there came
the answer of the clansmen. Within half an hour with the break of day
the Highland regiments had re-formed, and, shattered and weakened, but
undaunted, prepared to renew the contest. Some attempt at an advance
was made upon the right, ebbing and flowing, one little band even
reaching the trenches and coming back with prisoners and reddened
bayonets. For the most part the men lay upon their faces, and fired
when they could at the enemy; but the cover which the latter kept was
so excellent that an officer who expended 120 rounds has left it upon
record that he never once had seen anything positive at which to aim.
Lieutenant Lindsay brought the Seaforths' Maxim into the firing-line,
and, though all her crew except two were hit, it continued to do good
service during the day. The Lancers' Maxim was equally staunch,
though it also was left finally with only the lieutenant in charge and
one trooper to work it.

Fortunately the guns were at hand, and, as usual, they were quick to
come to the aid of the distressed. The sun was hardly up before the
howitzers were throwing lyddite at 4,000 yards, the three field
batteries (18th, 62nd, 75th) were working with shrapnel at a mile, and
the troop of Horse Artillery was up at the right front trying to
enfilade the trenches. The guns kept down the rifle-fire, and gave
the wearied Highlanders some respite from their troubles. The whole
situation had resolved itself now into another Battle of Modder
River. The infantry, under a fire at from six hundred to eight hundred
paces, could not advance and would not retire. The artillery only kept
the battle going, and the huge naval gun from behind was joining with
its deep bark in the deafening uproar. But the Boers had already
learned -- and it is one of their most valuable military qualities
that they assimilate their experience so quickly -- that shell fire is
less dangerous in a trench than among rocks. These trenches, very
elaborate in character, had been dug some hundreds of yards from the
foot of the hills, so that there was hardly any guide to our artillery
fire. Yet it is to the artillery fire that all the losses of the
Boers that day were due. The cleverness of Cronje's disposition of his
trenches some hundred yards ahead of the kopjes is accentuated by the
fascination which any rising object has for a gunner. Prince Kraft
tells the story of how at Sadowa he unlimbered his guns two hundred
yards in front of the church of Chlum, and how the Austrian reply fire
almost invariably pitched upon the steeple. So our own gunners, even
at a two-thousand yard mark, found it difficult to avoid overshooting
the invisible line, and hitting the obvious mark behind.

As the day wore on reinforcements of infantry came up from the force
which had been left to guard the camp. The Gordons arrived with the
first and second battalions of the Coldstream Guards, and all the
artillery was moved nearer to the enemy's position. At the same time,
as there were some indications of an attack upon our right flank, the
Grenadier Guards with five companies of the Yorkshire Light Infantry
were moved up in that direction, while the three remaining companies
of Barter's Yorkshiremen secured a drift over which the enemy might
cross the Modder. This threatening movement upon our right flank,
which would have put the Highlanders into an impossible position had
it succeeded, was most gallantly held back all morning, before the
arrival of the Guards and the Yorkshires, by the mounted infantry and
the 12th Lancers, skirmishing on foot. It was in this long and
successful struggle to cover the flank of the 3rd Brigade that Major
Milton, Major Ray, and many another brave man met his end. The
Coldstreams and Grenadiers relieved the pressure upon this side, and
the Lancers retired to their horses, having shown, not for the first
time, that the cavalryman with a modern carbine can at a pinch very
quickly turn himself into a useful infantry soldier. Lord Airlie
deserves all praise for his unconventional use of his men, and for the
gallantry with which he threw both himself and them into the most
critical corner of the fight.

While the Coldstreams, the Grenadiers, and the Yorkshire Light
Infantry were holding back the Boer attack upon our right flank the
indomitable Gordons, the men of Dargai, furious with the desire to
avenge their comrades of the Highland Brigade, had advanced straight
against the trenches and succeeded without any very great loss in
getting within four hundred yards of them. But a single regiment
could not carry the position, and anything like a general advance upon
it was out of the question in broad daylight after the punishment
which we had received. Any plans of the sort which may have passed
through Lord Methuen's mind were driven away for ever by the sudden
unordered retreat of the stricken brigade. They had been very roughly
handled in this, which was to most of them their baptism of fire, and
they had been without food and water under a burning sun all day.
They fell back rapidly for a mile, and the guns were for a time left
partially exposed. Fortunately the lack of initiative on the part of
the Boers which has stood our friend so often came in to save us from
disaster and humiliation. It is due to the brave unshaken face which
the Guards presented to the enemy that our repulse did not deepen into
something still more serious.

The Gordons and the Scots Guards were still in attendance upon the
guns, but they had been advanced very close to the enemy's trenches,
and there were no other troops in support. Under these circumstances
it was imperative that the Highlanders should rally, and Major Ewart
with other surviving officers rushed among the scattered ranks and
strove hard to gather and to stiffen them. The men were dazed by what
they had undergone, and Nature shrank back from that deadly zone where
the bullets fell so thickly. But the pipes blew, and the bugles sang,
and the poor tired fellows, the backs of their legs so flayed and
blistered by lying in the sun that they could hardly bend them,
hobbled back to their duty. They worked up to the guns once more, and
the moment of danger passed.

But as the evening wore on it became evident that no attack could
succeed, and that therefore there was no use in holding the men in
front of the enemy's position. The dark Cronje, lurking among his
ditches and his barbed wire, was not to be approached, far less
defeated. There are some who think that, had we held on there as we
did at the Modder River, the enemy would again have been accommodating
enough to make way for us during the night, and the morning would have
found the road clear to Kimberley. I know no grounds for such an
opinion -- but several against it. At Modder Cronje abandoned his
lines, knowing that he had other and stronger ones behind him. At
Magersfontein a level plain lay behind the Boer position, and to
abandon it was to give up the game altogether. Besides, why should he
abandon it? He knew that he had hit us hard. We had made absolutely no
impression upon his defences. Is it likely that he would have tamely
given up all his advantages and surrendered the fruits of his victory
without a struggle? It is enough to mourn a defeat without the
additional agony of thinking that a little more perseverance might
have turned it into a victory. The Boer position could only be taken
by outflanking it, and we were not numerous enough nor mobile enough
to outflank it. There lay the whole secret of our troubles, and no
conjectures as to what might under other circumstances have happened
can alter it.

About half-past five the Boer guns, which had for some unexplained
reason been silent all day, opened upon the cavalry. Their appearance
was a signal for the general falling back of the centre, and the last
attempt to retrieve the day was abandoned. The Highlanders were
dead-beat ; the Coldstreams had had enough; the mounted infantry was
badly mauled. There remained the Grenadiers, the Scots Guards, and two
or three line regiments who were available for a new attack. There
are occasions, such as Sadowa, where a General must play his last
card. There are others where with reinforcements in his rear, he can
do better by saving his force and trying once again. General Grant
had an axiom that the best time for an advance was when you were
utter]y exhausted, for that was the moment when your enemy was
probably utterly exhausted too, and of two such forces the attacker
has the moral advantage. Lord Methuen determined -- and no doubt
wisely -- that it was no occasion for counsels of desperation. His
men were withdrawn -- in some cases withdrew themselves -- outside the
range of the Boer guns, and next morning saw the whole force with
bitter and humiliated hearts on their way back to their camp at Modder

The repulse of Magersfontein cost the British nearly a thousand men,
killed, wounded, and missing, of which over seven hundred belonged to
the Highlanders. Fifty-seven officers had fallen in that brigade alone,
including their Brigadier and Colonel Downman of the Gordons. Colonel
Codrington of the Coldstreams was wounded early, fought through the
action, and came back in the evening on a Maxim gun. Lord Winchester
of the same battalion was killed, after injudiciously but heroically
exposing himself all day. The Black Watch alone had lost nineteen
officers and over three hundred men killed and wounded, a catastrophe
which can only be matched in all the bloody and glorious annals of
that splendid regiment by their slaughter at Ticonderoga in 1757, when
no fewer than five hundred fell before Montcalm's muskets. Never has
Scotland had a more grievous day than this of Magersfontein. She has
always given her best blood with lavish generosity for the Empire, but
it may be doubted if any single battle has ever put so many families
of high and low into mourning from the Tweed to the Caithness
shore. There is a legend that when sorrow comes upon Scotland the old
Edinburgh Castle is lit by ghostly lights and gleams white at every
window in the mirk of midnight. If ever the watcher could have seen so
sinister a sight, it should have been on this, the fatal night of
December 11, 1899. As to the Boer loss it is impossible to determine
it. Their official returns stated it to be seventy killed and two
hundred and fifty wounded, but the reports of prisoners and deserters
placed it at a very much higher figure. One unit, the Scandinavian
corps, was placed in an advanced position at Spytfontein, and was
overwhelmed by the Seaforths, who killed, wounded, or took the eighty
men of whom it was composed. The stories of prisoners and of
deserters all speak of losses very much higher than those which have
been officially acknowledged.

In his comments upon the battle next day Lord Methuen was said to have
given offence to the Highland Brigade, and the report was allowed to
go uncontradicted until it became generally accepted. It arose,
however, from a complete misunderstanding of the purport of Lord
Methuen's remarks, in which he praised them, as he well might, for
their bravery, and condoled with them over the wreck of their splendid
regiments. The way in which officers and men hung on under conditions
to which no troops have ever been exposed was worthy of the highest
traditions of the British army. From the death of Wauchope in the
early morning, until the assumption of the command of the brigade by
Hughes-Hallett in the late afternoon, no one seems to have taken the
direction. 'My lieutenant was wounded and my captain was killed,'
says a private. 'The General was dead, but we stayed where we were,
for there was no order to retire.' That was the story of the whole
brigade, until the flanking movement of the Boers compelled them to
fall back.

The most striking lesson of the engagement is the extreme bloodiness
of modern warfare under some conditions, and its bloodlessness under
others. Here, out of a total of something under a thousand casualties
seven hundred were incurred in about five minutes, and the whole day
of shell, machine-gun, and rifle fire only furnished the odd three
hundred. So also at Ladysmith the British forces (White's column)
were under heavy fire from 5.30 to 11.30, and the loss again was
something under three hundred. With conservative generalship the
losses of the battles of the future will be much less than those of
the past, and as a consequence the battles themselves will last much
longer, and it will be the most enduring rather than the most fiery
which will win. The supply of food and water to the combatants will
become of extreme importance to keep them up during the prolonged
trials of endurance, which will last for weeks rather than days. On
the other hand, when a General's force is badly compromised, it will
be so punished that a quick surrender will be the only alternative to

On the subject of the quarter-column formation which proved so fatal
to us, it must be remembered that any other form of advance is hardly
possible during a night attack, though at Tel-el-Kebir the exceptional
circumstance of the march being over an open desert allowed the troops
to move for the last mile or two in a more extended formation. A line
of battalion double-company columns is most difficult to preserve in
tho darkness, and any confusion may lead to disaster. The whole
mistake lay in a miscalculation of a few hundred yards in the position
of the trenches. Had the regiments deployed five minutes earlier it
is probable (though by no means certain) that the position would have
been carried.

The action was not without those examples of military virtue which
soften a disaster, and hold out a brighter promise for the future.
The Guards withdrew from the field as if on parade, with the Boer
shells bursting over their ranks. Fine, too, was the restraint of G
Battery of Horse Artillery on the morning after the battle. An
armistice was understood to exist, but the naval gun, in ignorance of
it, opened on our extreme left. The Boers at once opened fire upon
the Horse Artillery, who, recognising the mistake, remained motionless
and unlimbered in a line, with every horse, and gunner and driver in
his place, without taking any notice of the fire, which presently
slackened and stopped as the enemy came to understand the situation.
It is worthy of remark that in this battle the three field batteries
engaged, as well as G Battery, R.ll.A., each fired over 1,000 rounds
and remained for 30 consecutive hours within 1,500 yards of the Boer

But of all the corps who deserve praise, there was none more gallant
than the brave surgeons and ambulance bearers, who encounter all the
dangers and enjoy none of the thrills of warfare. All day under fire
these men worked and toiled among the wounded. Beevor, Ensor, Douglas,
Probyn -- all were equally devoted. It is almost incredible, and yet
it is true, that by ten o'clock on the morning after the battle,
before the troops had returned to camp, no fewer than five hundred
wounded were in the train and on their way to Cape Town.

Arthur Conan Doyle