Pitiable were the circumstances of the retirement. The wounded, with staggering footsteps, crawled or crept down the mountain-side, reeling from loss of blood and exhaustion. Streams of officers and knots of men scrambled along calling for their units and finding them not. Drowsy, stupefied beings stumbled through dongas and broke their ankles against boulders, trying before they dropped to come in touch with their fellow-men. Many wandered aimlessly, twining the hill and passing over it into the hands of the enemy. Battalion was mixed with battalion, company with company. Dazed men searched in vain for the rendezvous. Some cursed, some swore, some slept or seemed to sleep. One commanding officer sat helplessly on the spur of the hill, staring like a somnambulist, deaf to all consciousness of the outer world; another, lying among the trenches, was given up for dead. The losses were terrific. The Royal Engineers, in some cases, were riddled with bullets. Major Massey died covered with wounds. Lieutenant Falcon, 17th Company, had arms, legs, knees, and helmet perforated with lead. In fact, no one has been able very clearly to describe in its hideous reality the awful picture of the battle of Spion Kop. A great holocaust some called it, and with truth, for the mountain from morn till night was literally scourged with lead, raked in all directions by Maxim-Nordenfeldts, artillery, and musketry. The tale is only writ in the wounds and on the graves of those who by a miracle took the summit, and by sheer grit held it in the face of overwhelming odds. Over a thousand men gave their lives to gain that which, in twenty hours--hours each one crowded with moments of heroism--had to be abandoned. The evacuation was carried out by order of Colonel Thorneycroft, one of the most valiant of the many valiant men who went up only to come down again. The excellence of his reasons was acknowledged, and his personal valour was beyond dispute. His authority for action was the sole source of debate. A military correspondent of the _Daily Telegraph_ related an incident of the fight which served to show what manner of commander had taken the place made vacant by the wounding of General Woodgate. Some men, about a score, who had lost their officers, threw down their arms to surrender, but Thorneycroft, seeing the act, rushed out to the front and called to the Boers to go on firing, for he commanded on the hill, and he alone would give the word to surrender. The Boers promptly responded. The officer went on to say, "Luckily a fresh regiment arrived at our side and restored the battle, but Thorneycroft undoubtedly saved a dreadful disaster by conduct so gallant that it recalls the old story of _Messieurs de la Garde Francaise, tirez_."