In
any event, it is a family row and of no interest to the outsider.
The main fact is that he did make a dash for it, and just at sunset
found himself with two hundred men only a mile from the "Doomed
City." His force was composed of Natal Carbiniers and Imperial Light
Horse. He halted them, and in order that honors might be even,
formed them in sections with the half sections made up from each of
the two organizations. All the officers were placed in front, and
with a cheer they started to race across the plain.
The wig-waggers on Convent Hill had already seen them, and the
townspeople and the garrison were rushing through the streets to meet
them, cheering and shouting, and some of them weeping. Others, so
officers tell me, who were in the different camps, looked down upon
the figures galloping across the plain in the twilight, and continued
making tea.
Just as they had reached the centre of the town, General Sir George
White and his staff rode down from head-quarters and met the men
whose coming meant for him life and peace and success. They were
advancing at a walk, with the cheering people hanging to their
stirrups, clutching at their hands and hanging to the bridles of
their horses.
General White's first greeting was characteristically unselfish and
loyal, and typical of the British officer. He gave no sign of his
own in calculable relief, nor did he give to Caesar the things which
were Caesar's. He did not cheer Dundonald, nor Buller, nor the
column which had rescued him and his garrison from present starvation
and probable imprisonment at Pretoria. He raised his helmet and
cried, "We will give three cheers for the Queen!" And then the
general and the healthy, ragged, and sunburned troopers from the
outside world, the starved, fever-ridden garrison, and the starved,
fever-ridden civilians stood with hats off and sang their national
anthem.
The column outside had been fighting steadily for six weeks to get
Dundonald or any one of its force into Ladysmith; for fourteen days
it had been living in the open, fighting by night as well as by day,
without halt or respite; the garrison inside had been for four months
holding the enemy at bay with the point of the bayonet; it was
famished for food, it was rotten with fever, and yet when the relief
came and all turned out well, the first thought of every one was for
the Queen!
It may be credulous in them or old-fashioned; but it is certainly
very unselfish, and when you take their point of view it is certainly
very fine.
After the Queen every one else had his share of the cheering, and
General White could not complain of the heartiness with which they
greeted him, he tried to make a speech in reply, but it was a brief
one. He spoke of how much they owed to General Buller and his
column, and he congratulated his own soldiers on the defence they had
made.
"I am very sorry, men," he said, "that I had to cut down your
rations. I - I promise you I won't do it again."
Then he stopped very suddenly and whirled his horse's head around and
rode away. Judging from the number of times they told me of this,
the fact that they had all but seen an English general give way to
his feelings seemed to have impressed the civilian mind of Ladysmith
more than the entrance of the relief force. The men having come in
and demonstrated that the way was open, rode forth again, and the
relief of Ladysmith had taken place. But it is not the people
cheering in the dark streets, nor General White breaking down in his
speech of welcome, which gives the note to the way the men of
Ladysmith received their freedom. It is rather the fact that as the
two hundred battle-stained and earth-stained troopers galloped
forward, racing to be the first, and rising in their stirrups to
cheer, the men in the hospital camps said, "Well, they're come at
last, have they?" and continued fussing over their fourth of a ration
of tea. That gives the real picture of how Ladysmith came into her
inheritance, and of how she received her rescuers.
On the morning after Dundonald had ridden in and out of Ladysmith,
two other correspondents and myself started to relieve it on our own
account. We did not know the way to Ladysmith, and we did not then
know whether or not the Boers still occupied Bulwana Mountain. But
we argued that the chances of the Boers having raised the siege were
so good that it was worth risking their not having done so, and being
taken prisoner.
We carried all the tobacco we could pack in our saddle-bags, and
enough food for one day. My chief regret was that my government,
with true republican simplicity, had given me a passport, type-
written on a modest sheet of notepaper and wofully lacking in
impressive seals and coats of arms. I fancied it would look to Boer
eyes like one I might have forged for myself in the writing-room of
the hotel at Cape Town.
We had ridden up Pieter's Hill and scrambled down on its other side
before we learned that the night before Dundonald had raised the
siege. We learned this from long trains of artillery and regiments
of infantry which already were moving forward over the great plain
which lies between Pieter's and Bulwana.
