It was on the morning of October 12th, amid cold and mist, that the Boer
camps at Sandspruit and Volksrust broke up, and the burghers rode to the
war. Some twelve thousand of them, all mounted, with two batteries of
eight Krupp guns each, were the invading force from the north, which
hoped later to be joined by the Freestaters and by a contingent of
Germans and Transvaalers who were to cross the Free State border. It
was an hour before dawn that the guns started, and the riflemen followed
close behind the last limber, so that the first light of day fell upon
the black sinuous line winding down between the hills. A spectator upon
the occasion says of them: 'Their faces were a study. For the most part
the expression worn was one of determination and bulldog pertinacity.
No sign of fear there, nor of wavering. Whatever else may be laid to the
charge of the Boer, it may never truthfully be said that he is a coward
or a man unworthy of the Briton's steel.' The words were written early
in the campaign, and the whole empire will endorse them to-day. Could we
have such men as willing fellow-citizens, they are worth more than all
the gold mines of their country.
This main Transvaal body consisted of the commando of Pretoria, which
comprised 1800 men, and those of Heidelberg, Middelburg, Krugersdorp,
Standerton, Wakkerstroom, and Ermelo, with the State Artillery, an
excellent and highly organised body who were provided with the best guns
that have ever been brought on to a battlefield. Besides their sixteen
Krupps, they dragged with them two heavy six-inch Creusot guns, which
were destined to have a very important effect in the earlier part of the
campaign. In addition to these native forces there were a certain number
of European auxiliaries. The greater part of the German corps were with
the Free State forces, but a few hundred came down from the north. There
was a Hollander corps of about two hundred and fifty and an Irish--or
perhaps more properly an Irish-American-corps of the same number, who
rode under the green flag and the harp.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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