men who had no idea that they were marching in an enemy's country. Bronkhorst Spruit engagement is the one during the whole of the war which does not redound to the credit of the Dutch, even if it does not reflect great discredit upon them. If a reasonable time had been allowed Colonel Anstruther to give his reply, the 94th could not then say, as they do say and will say, that they were treacherously surprised. 'Two minutes' looks, under the circumstances, very much like an idle pretence of fair dealing to cover an intentional act of cowardice which subsequent conduct could hardly palliate. The Boers say that they had not more men than were marching with the 94th on that occasion; that statement is worth very little, considering the evidence of our officers, and, above all, the harsh evidence of the facts that the 94th was from advance-guard to rear-guard practically surrounded and outnumbered in every direction.
The preparedness of the Boers and the precision of their fire may be gathered from the testimony of Dr. Crow, of Pretoria, who attended the wounded, and vouched for an average of five wounds per man. Dr. Crow also wrote:
But as disastrous as the late war in the Transvaal had been to British prestige, thank God those at Bronkhorst Spruit did their duty and died like men, a noble example to any army. If any stain has been cast on the British flag in the Transvaal, the gallant 94th did all that was possible by their deeds at Bronkhorst Spruit to obliterate it.
The news of this affair was received with horror, and the feelings roused by the details of it have never been allayed. Race-hatred may have its origin in a hundred little incidents, but in the Transvaal there were two which undoubtedly, whether justly or otherwise, gave a character to the Boers that has embittered feeling against them more than any which had occurred in generations previous. The second affair followed very closely on the Bronkhorst Spruit engagement—i.e., the infamous murder of Captain Elliott, the only surviving unwounded officer from Bronkhorst Spruit. Captains Elliott and Lambert were taken prisoners, and were offered the choice of two alternatives—either to remain prisoners of war during the hostilities in the Transvaal, or to be released on parole d'honneur on condition that they should leave the Transvaal at once, cross into the Free State under escort, and not bear arms against the Republican Government during the war. The second alternative was chosen. They received an escort and free pass from Commandant-General Piet Joubert. The following is extracted from Captain Lambert's Report to Sir George Colley on January 5:
We started about 1 p.m. from the Boer camp, passing through the town of Heidelberg. After going about six to eight miles, I noticed we were not going the right road, and mentioned the fact to the escort, who said it was all right. Having been 'look-out' officer in the Transvaal, I knew the district well. I was certain we were going wrong, but we had to obey orders. At nightfall we found ourselves nowhere near the river drift, and were ordered to outspan for the night, and next morning the escort told us they would look for the drift. Inspanning at daybreak, we again started, but after driving about for some hours across country, I told the escort we would stop where we were while they went to search for the drift. Shortly after they returned and said they had found it, and we must come, which we did, eventually arriving at the junction of two rivers (Vaal and Klip), where we found the Vaal impassable, but a small punt, capable of holding only two passengers at most, by which they said we must cross. I pointed out that it was impossible to get my carriage or horses over by it, and that it was not the punt the General said we were to cross. The escort replied it was Pretorius's punt that the General told them to take us, and we must cross; that we must leave the carriage behind and swim the horses, which we refused to do, as we then should have had no means of getting on. I asked them to show me their written instructions, which they did (written in Dutch), and I pointed out that the name of Pretorius was not in it. I then told them they must either take us back to the Boer camp again or on to the proper drift. We turned back, and after going a few miles the escort disappeared. Not knowing where we were, I proposed to Captain Elliott we should go to the banks of the Vaal, and follow the river till we came to the proper punt. After travelling all Monday, Tuesday, and up till Wednesday about 1 p.m., when we found ourselves four hours, or twenty-five miles, from Spencer's punt, we were suddenly stopped by two armed Boers, who handed us an official letter, which was opened, and found to be from the Secretary to the Republican Government, stating that the members were surprised that, as officers and gentlemen, we had broken our parole d'honneur, and refused to leave the Transvaal; that if we did not do so immediately by the nearest drift, which the bearers would show us, we must return as prisoners of war; that as through our ignorance of the language of the country there might be some misunderstanding, they were loth to think we had willingly broken our promise. We explained that we should reply to the letter, and request them to take it to their Government, and were prepared to go with them at once. They took us back to a farmhouse, where we were told to wait until they fetched their commandant, who arrived about 6 p.m., and repeated to us the same that was contained in our letter of that day. We told him we were ready to explain matters, and requested him to take our answer back to camp. He then ordered us to start at once for the drift. I asked him, as it was then getting dark, if we could start early next morning, but he refused. So we started, he having said we should cross at Spencer's, being closest. As we left the farmhouse, I pointed out to him that we were going in the wrong direction; but he said, 'Never mind; come on across a drift close at hand.' When we got opposite it, he kept straight on; I called to him, and said that this was where we were to cross. His reply was, 'Come on!' I then said to Captain Elliott, 'They intend taking us back to Pretoria,' distant some forty miles. Suddenly the escort (which had all at once increased from two to eight men, which Captain Elliott pointed out to me; and I replied, 'I suppose they are determined we shall not escape, which they need not be afraid of, as we are too keen to get over the border') wheeled sharp down to the river, stopped, and, pointing to the banks, said, 'There is the drift—cross!' I drove my horses into the river, when they immediately fell; lifted them, and drove on about five or six yards, when we fell into a hole. Got them out with difficulty, and advanced another yard, when we got stuck against a rock. The current was now so strong and drift deep, my cart was turned over on to its side, and water rushed over the seat. I called out to the commandant on the bank that we were stuck and to send assistance, or might we return, to which he replied, 'If you do, we will shoot you.' I then tried, but failed, to get the horses to move. Turning to Captain Elliott, who was sitting beside me, I said, 'We must swim for it'; and asked could he swim, to which he replied, 'Yes.' I said, 'If you can't, I will stick to you, for I can.' While we were holding this conversation, a volley from the bank, ten or fifteen yards off, was fired into us, the bullets passing through the tent of my cart, one of which must have mortally wounded poor Elliott, who only uttered the single word 'Oh!' and fell headlong into the river from the carriage. I immediately sprang in after him, but was swept down the river under the current some yards. On gaining the surface of the water, I could see nothing of Elliott, but I called out his name twice, but received no reply. Immediately another volley was fired at me, making the water hiss around where the bullets struck. I now struck out for the opposite bank, which I reached with difficulty in about ten minutes; but as it was deep, black mud, on landing I stuck fast, but eventually reached the top of the bank, and ran for about two hundred yards under a heavy fire the whole while.
The Boers then invaded Natal and took up a position on Laing's Nek, four miles inside the Natal border, from which, on January 28, Sir George Colley endeavoured to oust them with a mounted force of 70 men and some 500 men of the 58th Regiment. The position is one difficult enough to climb unencumbered by military accoutrements, but the disposition of the little mounted force covered the approach. By some unexplained mistake, however, half of the mounted infantry charged and carried the Boer position before the 58th had climbed the hill, but were too weak to hold it and retired, leaving the 58th uncovered in a terrible ascent. But few of the exhausted men reached the top of the hill, and those, led by Colonel Deane, only to be shot down. Of the mounted men, 17 were killed and wounded; of the 58th, 73 were killed and 100 wounded. The result was absolute defeat of the British forces. The number of Boers engaged is not known, but the force behind the Nek consisted of several thousands, and no doubt a fair proportion engaged in the fight.
On February 8 General Colley made a demonstration in force on the Ingogo Heights. The force consisted of under 300 men, with 4 guns and 38 mounted men. On the Boer side there were about 1,000 men, and the fight lasted from morning until after dark. It was a drawn fight, in which both parties left the battlefield