Mafeking: A Diary of a Siege Part 9

Poor Hazelrigg died that night.

[Ill.u.s.tration: INTERVIEWING BOER PRISONERS ON MR. WEIL'S STOEP]

I went over and saw the prisoners this afternoon. They were very civil, and so were we. I like a Frenchman, and was chaffing them more or less at having left "La Patrie." They didn't seem to mind being prisoners; they apparently enjoyed their fight, but they objected to their food. I did what I could for them, and I couldn't help feeling that they were absolutely uninvited guests. It wasn't their quarrel, and why they wanted to shove their nose into it we all fail to understand. There is really a very charming man amongst them, who asked me to procure him a grammar as he wished to improve his mind by learning Dutch and English.

Of course, I got him a grammar, while I couldn't help suggesting that it might have been as well to remain in comfort in France without travelling all this way to learn the language, also remarking Dutch seemed rather out of date. He rather agreed with me, and asked me for a collection of siege stamps as he said he thought his girl would like them. The funny part of these fellows is that they seem to think that we haven't got homes or girls or anything else, but are a sort of automatic "Aunt Sally," put up here for irresponsible foreigners to have a shy at. n.o.body bears any malice about the fight, but the Frenchman calls the Boer "canaille," the Boer doesn't seem to like the Frenchman or, indeed, any other foreigner, regarding him as an impetuous fool who would probably lead him (the Boer) into some nasty dangerous place, and the Englishman laughs at the lot; however, as I said before, the poor devils can't help being foreigners. I always like a Frenchman, a good many have been kind to me and they are invariably amusing. Their stomachs, however, are at present proud, and they cannot swallow "sowen," or horse flesh, or any local luxuries. However, as we pointed out, it was rather their fault that we had not any rations in here. Some of these men had only been in the country a week. It seems a long way to come to get put in "quod," and live on horse flesh and "sowens." One told me he pa.s.sed a battery of our relieving column in harbour at Beira.

I suppose he thought he had put in a smart day's work when he got ahead of it. He has, but he isn't working now. I never liked Eloff much, not that I knew him personally, but now I like him better for his performances. He very nearly did a big thing, but both sides have apparently an ineradicable mutual contempt for each other, which has led to some very pretty fighting through the whole war. There is no mistake about it, he did insult the Queen, and I am glad we have had the wiping out of that score, but he is a gallant fellow all the same. When we look back on our discomfiture of Cronje, and the mopping up of Eloff, it gives a pleasant finish to the siege. It wanted just a finis.h.i.+ng touch to make it satisfactory. There should be another fight within a few hours, but I reckon that it will be the relief Column's turn, and though everything is ready for us to a.s.sist them I honestly don't think we could go far and do much. The men were dog tired on Sat.u.r.day, absolutely dog tired. I always thought the Boer was a bad bird to get up to the gun, but he came up that day. I don't think he will again.

On Monday we saw the tail end of some Boer force arriving. We had hoped it might be our own people, but they appear to be a few miles further off. However, we know they are there or thereabouts now. n.o.body minds now, we know we are winning.

To return again to my story of the fighting, the foreigners did try their best to stop the Boers looting, but loot they did most thoroughly.

They stole everything they could lay their hands on. Not one officer, whose kit happened to be in the fort has recovered anything. One "clumpy" of Boers galloped forth laden with food and drink. The food belonged to themselves, the drink belonged to us. They happened to fall in with the galloping Maxim, a piece of bad luck because they all died and our people took the food and drink. One fellow had taken a pair of brown boots and a horse, he had a few bullets through the boots, the horse was killed and so was he.

Life had been very dull here, but that morning put everything all right.

We had never before seen a dead or wounded Boer or a prisoner, and it is weary work to see your friends and neighbours shot and not see your own bag too, but personally, except in the way of business, I hope I haven't killed a Boer. In the fight in the morning, though everything had been prepared for as far as we could tell, we had had to take up positions which were absolutely enfiladed by the fresh development of affairs.

The trench occupied by the Bechua.n.a.land Rifles, Protectorate Regiment, and others on the spur of the moment, was directly enfiladed by the enemy's quick-firer. Why we were not wiped out on that line I never shall quite make out. They shot the jailor, Heale, who has done very good work all through the siege, who I am afraid leaves a wife and family. Then the prisoners took charge of themselves. Our gunner prisoners ran down to the guns, one was shot, the others served the gun all day. The others, armed with Martinis, commenced a heavy fire on the enemy, or cautioned the Dutch prisoners, the suspects, as to their behaviour, and put them down a hole. It was an exhilarating sight and struck me as exceedingly quaint to see men who had committed every crime, and were undergoing penal servitude, dismissing their past, oblivious of anything except the fact that we were all of the same crowd, and had got to keep the Dutchmen out. I hope Her Majesty will exercise her clemency; they certainly deserve to regain their rights as citizens.

We have had rather a dull day for some reason or other. A general idea pervaded the town that relief was at hand, and when towards evening a cloud of dust and troops were seen to the south-west, we most of us got on the roofs and looked at them with some interest. It transpired subsequently, however, that they were the enemy retiring before Mahon.

They pa.s.sed round the south of the town, and opposed him later.

16th, Wednesday. A dull day, but towards evening our relief was really seen. Everybody got on the roofs, and looked on at the Boers being sh.e.l.led; most refres.h.i.+ng, but as they were not apparently coming in, people went to feed, and enthusiasm rather died away again, so much so that when Major Karri Davis, and some eight men of the I.L.I. marched in, he told one pa.s.ser-by he was the advance guard relief force, the other only murmured "Oh, yes, I heard you were knocking about," and went to draw his rations, or whatever he was busily engaged in. However, when it became generally known the crowd a.s.sembled and began to cheer, and go mad again--so to bed.

17th, Thursday. Roused out this morning at some unG.o.dly hour to be told they had arrived, and strolled down to the I.L.I. to see Captain Barnes of my old regiment. It appeared that Mahon and Plumer had effected a masterly junction the day before, and that the former, following the only true policy of South African warfare had, as usual, said he was going to do one thing, and done something else, viz., camped out, and then suddenly inspanned and marched into the town. I can't quite convey the feelings of the townspeople, they were wild with delight, and pleased as they were their _bonne bouche_ was to come later. Edwardes and Barnes breakfasted with me and then went back (personally I borrowed a horse from the I.L.I.). About 9 o'clock the guns moved out to the waterworks, and then the fun really began. The Boers had been going to intercept Mahon's entry, but he was a bit too previous. All the morning their silly old five-pounder (locally known as "Gentle Annie") had been popping away, when suddenly the R.H.A. Canadian Artillery and pom-poms began, ably led by our old popguns, who had the honour of beginning the ball. I rode well out, as I wanted to see the other people have a treat, but literally in half an hour all there was left of the laager, which has vexed our eyes and souls so much for long months, was a cloud of dust on the horizon, except food-stuffs, &c., which we looted. I got a Dutch Bible, and from its tidiness I was pleased to see its late owner was a proficient in the Sunday school. So, quietly back to the town, and after the march past of the relief column the relieved troops began.

And now, I suppose, after being bottled up for some eight lunar months, I may effervesce. As I have said before, I have seen many tributes to her Majesty and joined in them all, but dirty men in s.h.i.+rt sleeves, and dirtier men in rags on scarecrows of horses touched me up most of all.

We were dirty, we were ragged, but we were most unmistakably loyal, and we came from all parts of the world--Canadians, South Africans, Australians, Englishmen, Indians, and our Cape Boys and various other Africans, and there was not one of us who did not respect the other, and know we were for one job, the Queen and Empire, not one.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MARCH PAST OF THE RELIEVING FORCE.]

I wonder how the prisoners felt, poor devils; they must have wished they were not against us. The Boers had certainly executed the smartest movement I had seen for some time; I had not believed it possible that a laager could break up and disperse so rapidly. We all went back to lunch, having recovered Captain McLaren, who, I am glad to say, is doing very well. Then after lunch an alarm was raised that we had rounded up old Snyman, and everybody started off to help in the operation; but, alas, Snyman knows too much. They said that he and four hundred Boers were surrounded and refused to surrender, and we all wanted as much surrender as we could get--or the other thing. I am glad to say he was. .h.i.t on the head in the morning with a bit of shrapnel, but not dangerously wounded, unfortunately, at least so they report. He seems equally execrated by Dutch and English--Psalm-singing, sanctimonious murderer of women and children and his son takes after him. I may contradict my previous statements, but his actions have also varied frequently. Well, we had a great dinner; old friends from all parts of the world foregathered, and at our head was Smitheman. Many dinners then combined, and more old friends were met--so to bed, still pleased with England. Men of all sorts and conditions, trades, professions and ranks, relievers and relieved, slept that night in and about Mafeking, with a restless sleep, thinking of what England would think, and we knew and were sorry we couldn't hear what they said.

The garrison in Mafeking hope to get some recognition or decoration, but what they attach particular importance to is receiving the Queen's chocolate.

Immediately after the relief column marched in our Baralongs under Montsoia Wessels, Silas and Sekoko and Josiah, marched off on their own to settle up Abraham Ralinti at Rietfontein, and bring in our trusty ally, Saani. He had been utterly looted, and taken away from his own stadt, and kept a prisoner at Rietfontein, his great notion being that we should have a conference with the Boers, and then lay down what he called "plenty polomite," and blow them up when they came to confer.

You cannot get very far ahead of a Baralong. I suppose this is the first occasion on which one black man surrendered under a white flag to another. These Rietfontein rebels have always been against the remainder of the Baralongs, and have invariably fought for the Boers since the disturbed relations between Briton and Boer have existed. I hope they will shoot Abraham, as his people's invariable cunning in stopping our runners has caused us great inconvenience, not to mention the numbers they have killed.

18th, Friday. Did very little. Went round and helped our pals to shop, get stamps, money, &c., &c.

19th, Sat.u.r.day. The garrison held its solemn Thanksgiving Service at the cemetery, at the termination of which three volleys were fired over our dead. We had been unable to do this before owing to the certainty of drawing fire, not that that really much mattered, as they usually fired on all our funeral parties, though there could be no mistaking them. Still they had this excuse that the cemetery is fortified. After the last post had sounded we reformed and sang the National Anthem.

Then, after Colonel Baden-Powell had spoken personally to each detachment, we cheered him, and then with heartfelt cheers for Her Majesty, the siege of Mafeking closed.

G.o.d SAVE THE QUEEN.

And now for sheer personalities. Mr. Stuart had arrived, and as I considered he was much better qualified to represent the paper with the force than myself, I determined to come south. Mr. B. Weil, whom as I have previously said, I consider to be one of the princ.i.p.al factors in the successful defence, certainly as regards the food supply, said he was going south. I accordingly resolved to accompany him, and while returning from the ceremony suggested it. Anyhow, to make a long story short, I arrived as he was starting, and with a small bag, having relinquished all my Mafeking impedimenta, climbed into his cart. He had to turn out one of his boys, but I didn't mind that, and being the most good-natured of men, he tried to look as if he didn't. So our caravan started--Major Anderson, Major Davis (Surg. I.L.I.), Mr. Weil, and myself, together with his servant Mitch.e.l.l, a prototype of "Binjamin,"

but absolutely reliable and hard-working, also Bradley, of Bradley's Hotel, Inspector Marsh, the Rev. ---- Peart, and Ronny Moncrieffe (who had secured a horse belonging to a Protectorate regiment, and proposed to accompany us). He had done a lot of good work in the siege, and was about as tired and unfit as a man could be. However, he was determined to get through, and so he did. It was a quaint pilgrimage, as the column, though it had swept the country, had not particularly cleared it, and the Boer is here to-day, gone to-morrow, and back the next day.

Well, our commissariat was excellent. I contributed some eight biscuits and three tins of bully, and that is all I have done except live on the fat of the land--Lord, how fat it seemed after Mafeking--a land flowing with fresh milk, b.u.t.ter and eggs, mutton and white bread, and above all, the sense of freedom, I never knew what it felt like to be properly free before, and I have been more or less of a wanderer most of my life. No more sieges for me, except perhaps from the outside. Yet I was sorry to leave Mafeking, and I may truly say as far as I know I didn't leave a bad friend behind me, only all my kit. Towards dark, after an outspan that was like a picnic, we reached Mr. Wright's farm, where the wounded were--one had died the night before--and we found Mr. Hands, _Daily Mail_, badly wounded in the thigh, but doing well; Captain Maxwell, I.S.C., and others. Mr. Wright acts up to his name. Two of his sons were in "tronk" at Zeerust for refusing to join the Boers, and what he had was at our disposal. I wonder if people at home realize in what a position our loyalists in Bechua.n.a.land have been placed. If they didn't come in their own countrymen regarded them as rebels,--if they did they lost all they had. But by doing as they have done, that is by carrying on their business while exposed to all the contumely and insult the Boers could heap on them, with the possible loss of life as well as property, they have served their country as well as those who have taken up arms; because their houses have always been a safe place for runners to go to, and news about the doings of the Boers could be obtained from them. Besides, they know which of the Boers fought, and which didn't, and this fact now terrifies the rebels and keeps many quiet, who might not otherwise be so. Mr. Weil on arrival bought two hundred bags of mealies and despatched them to his friends the Baralongs. Such a pretty place his farm is, with plenty of water and lots of game. We slept under the cart, and miserably cold it was. Mr. Weil (who is rather like myself in that respect), could not sleep, and was determined n.o.body else should do so. So we got up, and sat round the fire till sunrise. Our cocoa that morning was indeed acceptable. The caravan, which was as I say, quaint, marched as follows, preceded by mounted Kaffir Scouts:--First came Keeley and his boy in a Cape cart drawn by mules, followed by Weil, his servant, driver and myself in another Cape cart with six mules, Bradley driving a pair of horses in another, then Ronny, the Rev. ---- Peart and Inspector Marsh riding, the latter riding B.P.'s brother's pony. We inspanned at sunrise on Monday and started for Setloguli. Halted half way and had the pleasing intelligence that a commando was raiding within six miles of us. I personally felt very unhappy. I had always looked upon it as a two-to-one chance, and as we had no weapons we could make no fight of it. Apart from the bore of being a prisoner I knew I should be so awfully laughed at. However, there we were--it was no use grumbling, but I did, as hard as ever I could. Then we inspanned and drove to Setloguli, where our spirits were considerably raised by an excellent lunch provided by Mrs. Fraser, who is the best hostess I have ever met. The Frasers had a terrible rough time of it, and now "the Queen had got her own again" were naturally correspondingly cheerful. Later we were also further relieved to hear that "the commando" was merely a small patrol of Boers, and that it had withdrawn across the border. During the afternoon I went up and saw the old fort--quite interesting, and anybody who wants to spend a quiet time might do worse than to go to Setloguli. The worst of it is it takes some time to get there. Lady Sarah Wilson's maid was there. She had been there since Lady Sarah was brought in by the Boers to Mafeking.

Mr. Weil was showing various curios of the siege to Mrs. Fraser, including a copy of Her Majesty's _Leaves from the Journal of our Life in the Highlands_, which he had looted from the Boer laager. This excited the good lady's unqualified wrath, "What sacrilege for them to have it in their hands. Why it smells Boery," she said. On Tuesday Keeley was returning to Mafeking with Lady Sarah's maid and his scouts, so Weil engaged two scouts to accompany us to Jan Modebi, where we were next going to stop. They didn't seem particularly pus.h.i.+ng sort of scouts, as they persistently rode in rear of the Cape cart. The road too, was infamous, but it was impossible to lose the way as the column had left an unmistakable track behind them, and this was fortunate, because when we had been going about an hour and a half our intelligent guide stated he didn't know the way. I wonder how Keeley felt all that Tuesday. If he could have heard half we said he would have torn his two days' beard out and wept. The other scout lost us altogether. Keeley and Weil were arranging a series of despatch riders, so as long as we got one of them to Jan Modebi's, it didn't much matter. We outspanned first at a rebel's farm, and had an excellent lunch. I was still rather fretful. The prospect of captivity made me so, and I only believe in dead Dutchmen, till peace is proclaimed.

One Sonnenberg, a brother of some Bond member or other, was there trading, I suppose, like most Bondsmen, running with the hare and hunting with the hounds. He looked well on it, and was very civil. We inspanned and then came a long trek to Jan Modebi's. About half-way there, we saw two hors.e.m.e.n with guns cruising about. One obviously was not a soldier. I reckoned Pretoria was the ticket, however, they came up and Weil went to interview them. They turned out to be one of the Kimberley Light Horse and a civilian who was showing him the way, and he said he had got a convoy of cattle. It felt like being near home again then. We afterwards met the convoy--total, four white men and five black. I still marvel at their colossal impudence, marching through a rebel country within five miles of the enemy's border, escorting cattle for which any Boer will peril his skin. He calmly a.s.sured me they were going to pick up all they saw on the way; to use his own words, "All is fish that comes to our net." I hope they got through all right. So to Mr. Menson's, where we put up for the night, and he, like everyone else, did all he could. He, too, had had a bad time. He didn't grumble, but when the relief column had come through they had cut all his barbed wire fences. Having a const.i.tutional antipathy to barbed wire I sympathized with the relief column, but naturally did not say so. I was amused to see three prints of Sir Alfred Milner, Lord Roberts, and Oom Paul, the inscription under the latter being, "The end is better than the beginning, 14.10.99," also to hear his account of how when driving his cattle to Vryburg at the outbreak of the war he had met a Dutchman who told him that they had driven the English into the sea. His reply was, "Oh, that's too far to go," and so he turned and drove his cattle back again to his farm. Weil, as usual, bought up cattle, &c., also b.u.t.ter and other luxuries, and despatched them to the hospital at Mafeking on his own account.

Wednesday. We started rather later than usual owing to the heavy rain, and half way to Vryburg we crossed the fresh spoor of men, wagons, cattle, &c., going towards the Transvaal. It afterwards transpired it was the rebel Van Zyl and his following, bolting from Kuruman to the Transvaal. Let off number two. We couldn't have been more than an hour or two behind them, and they would certainly have scooped us had we met them, so the rain was lucky. Well, we got into Vryburg from one side as the troops got in from the other. An old acquaintance rushed me off to the Club, and I then strolled up to see the Scotch Yeomanry and found Charley Burn. I found also Kidd and several others I knew--then on to see Reade, who had been Intelligence Officer at Mafeking before the war, and was D.A.A.G. to General Barton, and arranged about getting on in the first train. This was my first chance of seeing the infantry Tommy on the war path to any great extent. He is no more beautiful or clean, in fact, if anything less so than his cavalry brother, but by heaven he looks a useful one! However, what matter the man as long as the flag is clean. Met North of the Royal Fusiliers and dined with him, they all asked after Fitzclarence, G.o.dley, and the others. They and the Scots Fusiliers had done quite an extraordinary march of forty-four miles in thirty-four hours, and now our infantry were within striking distance of Mafeking. The line should soon be repaired as they had begun from Mafeking and the line as far as Maribogo was practically untouched, in fact next morning, Thursday, they ran twelve miles north. Thursday we began our preparations for departure. The garrison were preparing to celebrate the Queen's Birthday, and the populace to display great enthusiasm, and the women began to come into town. It was not a highly polished parade, so far as I could see. Still, it was rather good to have it there just then, where the Dutchmen had been in occupation within ten days. Rifles were now coming in by the hundred, and the rebel of a fortnight before became a British patriot. We drove to the station, and there met the Scots Fusiliers. I was accosted by a warrior in large blue goggles, who said I didn't remember him. I naturally didn't in the goggles, but it turned out to be Scudamore. They did the best they could for us, and then d.i.c.k of the Royal Irish Fusiliers turned up, who had once been my sergeant-major. I was glad to see him--the old regiment and squadron seems fairly dotted all over Africa.

Barnes was at Mafeking, three of us had been through the siege, and I met one Lambart at Taungs, who had been a corporal with us, and was a captain in the Kimberley Mounted Corps, curiously enough all belonging to two squadrons, B and D. Well, we left Vryburg with a light engine and a truck full of n.i.g.g.e.rs. We were all sitting on the tank, in charge of young Gregg, R.E., who is a good train master. He ran us down, after dropping the n.i.g.g.e.rs to repair a bridge, to Dry Hartz, where we had to pull out for an up-coming train, and as we had half an hour to wait, and it was just mid-day at twelve, we formed up and gave three cheers for the Queen and drank her health. It was the smallest and dirtiest Queen's Birthday parade I have ever attended; nine all told, but "mony a little makes a muckle." We ran down to Taungs, where one way and another we were detained some twelve hours. I didn't mind. The Royal Welsh Fusiliers were there, and I found several old friends and acquaintances--Gough Radcliffe, R.H., Cooper (Royal Fusiliers), Broke Wright, R.E., the former railway staff officer. So into a cattle truck we jumped with one of the Welsh Fusiliers and some men and arrived at Kimberley 7 o'clock next morning, where I called on Sir C. Parsons, and had fish for breakfast at the hotel. Thus my journey was practically ended. It transpired that Vryburg was held by some half dozen of our forces, and that the remainder of the garrison was only sixty loyalists from the town population. It did not seem a large garrison, but apparently it was good enough. There was rather a curious coincidence at dinner at Orange River. I saw a man whose face I thought I knew, but I was mistaken; it was his likeness to his brother which misled me. He turned out to be Tom Greenfield's brother, who was down here sick, and to whom I had wired to meet me at Fourteen Streams, so that I could give him news of Tom. However, I struck him on the next river or so, so it didn't much matter.

It was sad to pa.s.s the Modder River and see our cemeteries--all English; so we pa.s.sed on to Cape Town. And how jolly it was to see old friends; besides, we were able to tell our Mafeking people, womenfolk, good news of their husbands.

Three pleasant days there, and then everybody came to see us off by the _Norman_, which we nearly missed. The voyage pa.s.sed without much incident. Everybody on board was more or less personally interested in the war, and there were a good many Boers and pro-Boers on board. On Sat.u.r.day, short of Madeira, the _Briton_ signalled the news of the fall of Pretoria. Tremendous rejoicings on board on the part of the British, while the Dutch were correspondingly depressed and seemed rather sad; some of them wept into the sea.

The further I got from the seat of war the less animus I felt. So to Madeira, where we arrived about midnight, and the news was confirmed with particulars. We got many newspapers. On to Southampton--more victories; many valuable officers killed. It is really sad to take up a newspaper; one sees friends killed in every fight. Thus we arrived in London at 9.15 on the 15th June, having left Mafeking 11 a.m. the 20th May.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "LORD NELSON." By a curious coincidence the letters B.P.

were found cast on the breech of this piece when dug up.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: Cavalryman]