With Rimington

With Rimington

The Project Gutenberg EBook of With Rimington, by L. March Phillipps This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: With Rimington
Author: L. March Phillipps
Release Date: February 21, 2005 [EBook #15131]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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WITH RIMINGTON
BY
L. MARCH PHILLIPPS
LATE CAPTAIN IN RIMINGTON'S GUIDES

SECOND IMPRESSION

LONDON
EDWARD ARNOLD
37 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, W.C.
1902
All rights reserved

DEDICATION
_This book is dedicated to the memory of my friend Lieutenant Gustavus Coulson, D.S.O., of the King's Own Scottish Borderers, who fell at Lambrechtfontein on May 19, 1901._
_The Colonel in command writes that in that action Lieutenant Coulson rallied some men and saved a gun from falling into the enemy's hands. He lost his life in bringing off a wounded man from under the enemy's fire. For this deed, the last of many deeds as brave, he was recommended for the Victoria Cross._
_I knew him from his childhood, and on the march from Lindley to Pretoria, and thence far south to Basutoland, we often rode together, and talked of West Country sport and his Devonshire home and faces that we both knew and loved there._
_A keen soldier, a cheery comrade, and a brave and kindly English gentleman, he stands, it seems to me, the very type of those gallant boys who in this South African war have died for England_.

PREFACE
These letters were written without any idea of publication, and it was not until I had been home some months that suggestions from one or two sources caused me to think of printing them. They appear much as they were written, except that sometimes several letters dealing with the same event have been thrown into one; and occasionally a few words have been added to fill up gaps. In no case have I been wise after the event, or put in prophecies which had already come off.
The parts in inverted commas are extracts from note-books which I used to carry about in my pocket, and these passages I have left just as they were jotted down, thinking that such snap-shots of passing scenes might have an interest of their own.
It is unlucky from a descriptive point of view that the big actions and fine effects should all have occurred during the first part of the war, leaving the dulness and monotony for the later stages. During the last six months of my service it was not my chance to see any important action, though slight skirmishing was constant, and I find therefore nothing in the later letters of a very exciting nature.
Such as they are, however, these letters contain a quite faithful account of things that happened under my own eyes throughout the chief stages of the western campaign. During the early part of the war many things happened that were splendid to see and that it gave me great pleasure to write about. During the later stages nothing particularly splendid occurred, though the patience and endurance of our men were in their way fine; but some things happened which were, as we say, regrettable; and these things also are in their turn briefly described.
L.M.P.
15 BURY STREET, ST. JAMES'S, S.W.

CONTENTS
LETTER PAGE
I. ORANGE RIVER CAMP 1
II. BELMONT 8
III. GRASPAN 15
IV. MODDER RIVER 22
V. THE 4.7 30
VI. MAGERSFONTEIN 34
VII. A RECONNAISSANCE 43
VIII. SCOUTING ON THE MODDER 49
IX. THE ADVANCE 59
X. RELIEF OF KIMBERLEY 63
XI. PAARDEBERG--THE BOMBARDMENT 73
XII. PAARDEBERG--THE SURRENDER 77
XIII. POPLAR GROVE 83
XIV. BLOEMFONTEIN 89
XV. MODDER REVISITED 97
XVI. JUSTIFICATION OF THE WAR 104
XVII. THE MARCH NORTH 112
XVIII. PRETORIA 126
XIX. THE MARCH SOUTH 139
XX. PRINSLOO'S SURRENDER--I 151
XXI. PRINSLOO'S SURRENDER--II 165
XXII. FIGHTING AND TREKKING 173
XXIII. WRITTEN FROM HOSPITAL 185
XXIV. FIGHTING AND FARM-BURNING 192
XXV. THE SITUATION 205
XXVI. PLAIN MISTER! 217

WITH RIMINGTON

LETTER I
ORANGE RIVER CAMP
ORANGE RIVER, November 18, 1899.
The sun is just rising on Orange River Camp. Our tents are pitched on the slopes of white sand, soft and deep, into which you sink at every step, that stretch down to the river, dotted with a few scraggy thorn-trees. There are men round me, sleeping about on the sand, rolled in their dark brown blankets, like corpses laid out, covered from head to foot, with the tight folds drawn over their feet and over their heads. A few bestir themselves, roll, and stretch, and draw back the covering from their sleepy, dusty faces. The first sunbeams begin to creep along the ground and turn the cold sand yellow.
I am beginning this letter in the shade of a mimosa. The whole scene reminds me very much of Egypt; and you might easily believe that you were sitting on the banks of the Nile