London to Ladysmith via Pretoria | Page 5

smooth rim of the
horizon. A short time developed the wave into the rocks and slopes of
Robben Island--a barren spot inhabited by lepers, poisonous serpents,
and dogs undergoing quarantine. Then with the darkness we entered
Table Bay, and, steaming slowly, reached the anchorage at ten o'clock.
Another hour of waiting followed until the tugboat obeyed the signal;
but at last she ran alongside, and there stepped on board a Man Who
Knew. Others with despatches pushed roughly through the crowd of
soldiers, officers, passengers, and war correspondents to the General's
cabin. We caught the Man Who Knew, however, and, setting him half
way up the ladder to the hurricane deck, required him forthwith to tell
us of the war. Doubtless you have been well informed of all, or at any

rate of much, that has passed. The man told his story quickly, with an
odd quiver of excitement in his voice, and the audience--perhaps we
were 300--listened breathless. Then for the first time we heard of
Elandslaagte, of Glencoe, of Rietfontein, a tale of stubborn, well-fought
fights with honour for both sides, triumph for neither. 'Tell us about the
losses--who are killed and wounded?' we asked this wonderful man. I
think he was a passage agent or something like that.
So he told us--and among the group of officers gathered above him on
the hurricane deck I saw now one, now another, turn away, and hurry
out of the throng. A gentleman I had met on the voyage--Captain
Weldonasked questions. 'Do you know any names of killed in the
Leicesters?' The man reflected. He could not be sure: he thought there
was an officer named Weldon killed--oh, yes! he remembered there
were two Weldons--one killed, one wounded, but he did not know
which was in the Leicesters. 'Tell us about Mafeking,' said someone
else. Then we heard about Mafeking--the armoured trains, the
bombardment, the sorties, the dynamite wagons--all, in fact, that is yet
known of what may become an historic defence. 'And how many Boers
are killed?' cried a private soldier from the back. The man hesitated, but
the desire to please was strong within him. 'More than two thousand,'
he said, and a fierce shout of joy answered him. The crowd of brown
uniforms under the electric clusters broke up into loud-voiced groups;
some hastened to search for newspapers, some to repeat what they had
heard to others; only a few leaned against the bulwarks and looked long
and silently towards the land, where the lights of Cape Town, its streets,
its quays, and its houses gleamed from the night like diamonds on
black velvet.
It is along casualty list of officers--of the best officers in the world. The
brave and accomplished General of Glencoe; Colonel Chisholme, who
brought the 9th Lancers out of action in Afghanistan; Sherston, who
managed the Indian Polo Association; Haldane, Sir William Lockhart's
brilliant aide-de-camp; Barnes, adjutant of the 4th Hussars, who played
back of our team and went with me to Cuba; Brooke, who had tempted
fortune more often than anyone else in the last four years--Chitral,
Matabeleland, Samana, Tira, Atbara, and Omdurman--and fifty others

who are only names to me, but are dear and precious to many, all lying
under the stony soil or filling the hospitals at Pietermaritzburg and
Durban. Two thousand Boers killed! I wish I could believe there were.
Next morning Sir Redvers Buller landed in state. Sir F.
Forestier-Walker and his staff came to meet him. The ship was decked
out in bunting from end to end. A guard of honour of the Duke of
Edinburgh's Volunteers lined the quay; a mounted escort attended the
carriage; an enormous crowd gathered outside the docks. At nine
o'clock precisely the General stepped on to the gangway. The crew and
stokers of the 'Dunottar Castle' gave three hearty cheers; the
cinematograph buzzed loudly; forty cameras clicked; the guard
presented arms, and the harbour batteries thundered the salute. Then the
carriage drove briskly off into the town through streets bright with
waving flags and black with cheering people. So Sir Redvers Buller
came back again to South Africa, the land where his first military
reputation was made, where he won his Victoria Cross, the land
which--let us pray--he will leave having successfully discharged the
heavy task confided to him by the Imperial Government.
Now, what is the situation which confronts the General and the army? I
will adventure an explanation, though the picture of war moves very
swiftly. In their dealing with the military republics which had become
so formidable a power throughout the Cape, the Ministers who were
responsible for the security of our South African possessions were
compelled to reckon with two volumes of public opinion--British and
colonial. The colonial opinion was at its best (from our point of view)
about