PREFACE.
VOLUME II.
".… It is in the realisation of those more deeply rooted
causes of our past failures, quite as much as in the indiscriminate
adoption of methods found useful on the South African veld, that lie the
best hopes of the reforms required to insure the safety and the full
development of that which is already in part a great living reality, but
in part still remains a precious ideal-the British Empire.
"…. There has been little attempt in this volume to rival
the picturesque imaginativeness of style of Dr. Conan Doyle, or the vivid
and convincing impressionism of "Linesman." It will be enough for me if
the simple endeavour to present the reader with a clear story of what
actually happened, and why and how it happened, succeeds in attracting his
curiosity and holding his attention to the end of the book. The tone
adopted has been frankly critical throughout. It may perhaps seem to some
that the criticism tends to err on the side of severity, possibly even of
captiousness. That certainly has not been my intention. It is true that in
the criticism of particular operations I have confined myself principally
to the discussion of the proximate causes. It would be wearisome on each
occasion to rehearse at length the difficulties which British generals had
to face owing to the character of the country, the absence of information,
the mobility of the Boers, the lack of initiative of their subordinates,
or their own defective training. But no one who has read the chapters
dealing with the military antecedents of the war will fail to bear in mind
the difficulties under which those
generals
laboured, or to make allowance for them. Nor is the object of these
criticisms to blame or praise this general or that, or to presume to pass
arm-chair judgments upon men who did their best in the perplexing moment
of action, but to try and help towards the solution of our present and
future needs by the study of our past mistakes. And that object can only
be attained by the frankest discussion of those mistakes. If, in my
desire to tell the truth without palliation or concealment, I have
anywhere overstepped the bounds of fair criticism, I must frankly ask for
forgiveness. But I trust that the reader will attribute my fault in such
cases to error of judgment or lack of information, and not to any
partiality or prejudice….
"…. If it was difficult formerly to get a true account of a
battle, it has become even more so now with the enormous extension of the
firing-line, with smokeless powder, lying down tactics, and khaki
uniforms. The general often neither sees the enemy nor even his own
firing-line; the firing-line have little to tell but that they were under
a rain of bullets, more or less heavy, from this or that direction. A
battle is thus more than ever an elaborate puzzle to which a number of
persons can give partial answers of varying degrees of correctness or
incorrectness. Under no circumstances, perhaps, is the personal equation
of error in evidence so great as in the crisis of a battle, and the
historian is compelled to treat the private soldier's letter and the
general's despatch with equal suspicion. It is only after the most careful
and most skeptical analysis of the available evidence that something
resembling the true objective event can be reconstructed. It is this
laborious task of reconstruction that I must fain plead as justification
for the very considerable delay between the appearance of the first and
second volumes, a delay that I fear has proved disappointing to many
subscribers.
Even so it would have been impossible to have done nearly
as much in the time but for the great measure of help which I have
received. My thanks are due first of all to the Army collectively. To all
its members, from its official heads down to the privates in the ranks, I
owe a great debt of gratitude for the kindness and willingness to help
which they have invariably shown me. In writing of a war still,
unfortunately, continuing, and on questions of so highly contentious a
character as many which the incidents of that war have provoked, it would
hardly be advisable to give the names of those who have sent me their
diaries, written for me accounts of the events with which they have been
connected, corrected proofs or answered the innumerable questions with
which I have persecuted them. It is thus alike impossible for me to
fortify the statements contained in this narrative by the authority of my
informants, or to express my gratitude to them otherwise than anonymously
and collectively. Equally anonymous must be my acknowledgment of thanks
to those friends of mine who have taken part in the war as burghers of the
Boer Republics, by whose help I have been enabled to give some account,
however inadequate, of that little known side of the operations. I trust
that they will be satisfied that I have endeavoured, as far as possible,
to let no tinge of political or patriotic prejudice colour my narrative or
distort my facts. The same restriction of anonymity does not apply to
those members of The Times staff
of war correspondents who have assisted me in the work, and who have taken
so large a share in it that they may well claim to be considered
co-authors of it.
".... The errors of fact and judgment—many I fear contained
in this work are mine."
L. S. AMERY.
LONDON,
April 11,
1902.
INTRODUCTION.
VOLUME I. CHAPTER I.
Political importance of the war.
THE South African War has
been the greatest political event in the history of the British Empire
since the conclusion of the Napoleonic wars. Such a description may at
first sight appear exaggerated when applied to the suppression by a great
Empire of two small Republics in a remote part of the world. But it is
justified by the importance of the political principles involved, by the
magnitude and extent of the military operations, and by the profound
effect the war has created throughout the whole British Empire, and even
among foreign nations. It is no less justified by the far-reaching results
that the war is destined to have in the future upon the organisation of
the British army, the political and economical development of South
Africa, the relations between the various self-governing parts of the
British Empire, and the position of that Empire among the nations of the
world.
Comparison with the Crimean War and the Indian Mutiny.
The two most important wars fought by Englishmen since Waterloo
have been the Russian War and the suppression of the Indian Mutiny. The
war in the Crimea was, it is true, fought against a great European Power.
But its object was only to maintain a certain balance of power in Eastern
Europe, which at that time was looked upon as a security for our position
in India; the force sent out was, comparatively speaking, a small one; and
even so the effort involved was wholly disproportionate to the
insignificant results attained. In the Indian Mutiny the issue we fought
for was one of unquestionable, even of vital, importance. The struggle for
the preservation of our Indian Empire was fierce and long before the
flames of mutiny were finally stamped out. Our position in Asia, to some
extent our position in the world at large, was made secure by our victory
then. In South Africa the principle at issue has been even more important,
the stake higher, and the effort greater.
The White Man's Birthright.
The struggle has been not to uphold the rule of
Englishmen over Asiatics, but to secure political equality for Englishmen
in a country where the English composed more than one half of the whole
white population. We have fought, not to maintain the white man's burden
but to vindicate the white man's birthright—the right of all white men
that come into a new country, and join in the work of developing and
making it, to claim their share of its political privileges. Our endeavour
has been not to preserve our hold over an alien dependency, but to prevent
a vast region inhabited by men of English blood or of that stubborn Low
German stock that is so nearly akin to our own-a region susceptible of
indefinite development, and destined some day to play an important part in
the world-from being lost to the community of liberty-loving and
progressive nations that make up Greater Britain.
Magnitude of the military operations.
As regards the military operations themselves, neither the
Russian War nor the Sepoy War can bear comparison with the Boer War. An
army of over 200,000 men, the largest army of Englishmen ever brought into
the field, has been fighting many thousand miles from its base in a vast,
almost barren, country, against an enemy aided by every advantage that is
given by an intimate knowledge of the natural features of the country, by
the friendship of the bulk of the population in the districts which have
been the scene of operations, by long preparation, by the possession of
the most modern weapons, by the highest confidence in their own prowess,
and by the most desperate determination not to be subdued. Small though
the Republics were, they represented, in proportion to their citizen
population, the
most formidable military
power the world has ever known. For several months their forces occupied
British territory, invested British towns and inflicted one defeat after
another upon British generals, before Lord Roberts turned the tide and
began his advance on Pretoria. There was a time when Boer agents in Europe
confidently boasted of the terms the Republics intended granting to
England as soon as England should recognise the hopelessness of continuing
the struggle, and when even the most sanguine felt a passing doubt of our
power and our will to bring the war to its only possible conclusion.
Close political analogy with the American Civil War.
There is one great
struggle of this century to which the South African War bears a striking
resemblance-the American Civil War. The analogy, like any other historical
analogy, must not be pressed too far, but there is a most remarkable
parallelism in the general character of the political issues, in the
course of the negotiations preceding war, and in the actual conduct of
the campaigns, a parallelism which sometimes comes out in the most
insignificant details. It is true that in some respects the more correct
historical parallel to the American Civil War and to the events leading up
to it is to be found not so much in the present South African War and the
immediate issues from which it sprang, as in the whole history of the
relations between the British Government and the Boers. The South African
Civil War is separated by more than sixty years from the Great Trek, the
South African counterpart of the Secession. But even taking into
comparison the situation in South Africa only for the years immediately
preceding the war, it is not difficult to trace a most interesting analogy
with the situation in America before 1861. In both cases the issue was a
double one, or rather presented itself in two different aspects. The
question of the black man's right to personal liberty in the Southern
States, or of the white man's right to political power in the Transvaal,
was in each case inextricably interwoven with the wider question of the
maintenance of Federal or Imperial supremacy-the words stand for the same
political idea—against the assertion of State rights or Republican
independence….
Comparison of the military operations.
The resemblance between
the course of military operations in America and in South Africa is no
less close than the resemblance between the political situations. The
North, like England, began with a wholly unwarranted contempt of its
opponents; and, like England, the North found that it had to put forth
exertions never dreamt of before in order to see the war through. The
blunders of British generals before abler men came to the front, the
initial defeats, the superior mobility of the Boers, their good shooting,
their skill in taking cover, all find their parallels in the American war.
Even the notorious "unmounted men preferred," sent to the colonies, was
anticipated by the refusal of Mr. Cameron, the Secretary of War, to accept
the offer of a corps of volunteer cavalry, as too troublesome and
expensive, at a time when the Federal army was grievously deficient in
mounted men. The defence conducted by the Boers against overwhelming odds
has been as desperate and skilful as the defence of the South. In Africa,
as in America, the war was practically a civil war, and, once war was
declared, there could be no terms of peace for the smaller combatant short
of absolute and unconditional surrender.
Revelation of England's military inefficiency.
One of the first effects
of the war was to show up the weakness and inefficiency existing in many
departments of our costly military organisation, the paucity of capable
senior officers, the serious lack of training of both officers and men for
the conditions of active service, the failure of those responsible for the
general direction of the army to anticipate the profound change in the
whole character of warfare brought about by the improvements in modern
fire-arms. But the course of the struggle brought into no less striking
relief the unflinching personal bravery and dogged resolution of the
British soldier, from highest to lowest, and the vast reserve of power
latent in the patriotism of the free nations which compose the British
Empire. To the outside world, too, the war has afforded a signal
manifestation not only of the unity and of the resources of the British
Empire, but of the unquestioned supremacy of British sea power. With an
army of 200,000 men locked up at the uttermost ends of the earth, the
British Empire has remained as invulnerable and as secure from the
possibility of hostile European aggression as if those men had never been
moved from their homes.
England's good fortune.
England's proverbial good fortune would seem to have stood her in as good
stead in the present war in South Africa as elsewhere. The defects of our
military system have been brought to the test, not in a life and death
struggle for the defence of our Empire against a great combination of
European Powers, where failure might have meant irretrievable national
disaster, but in a conflict where the ultimate issue ought never to have
been seriously in doubt. At the same time the importance of the issues at
stake and the severity of the checks received have been sufficient to
impress the need for reform and reorganisation deeply on the public mind.
Our good fortune has been no less marked in the actual course of the war.
It is impossible to tell what might have been the result if the Boers had,
from the very first, left Ladysmith, Mafeking, and Kimberley alone, and
struck right into the heart of the Cape Colony-practically undefended and
dangerously disaffected—with an army of 20,000 men. That army would have
been trebled or quadrupled in a few weeks. The railway system of Cape
Colony, which has proved so invaluable to us, would have fallen into the
enemy's hands. General Buller, on landing, would have found himself face
to face with the almost impossible task of reconquering the whole of South
Africa from the coast. Our very blunders may possibly have been fortunate.
In December our generals met with a series of checks, severe enough to
create the profoundest anxiety at home and in the colonies, and to arouse
the strongest determination to increase the force in South Africa to any
figure necessary for the purpose of carrying through the war. But none of
those checks was of the nature of a hopeless defeat which would have left
a whole region open to invasion. Nor were our enemies, for all their
bravery and skill, the men to make prompt and immediate use of their
opportunities. After each of their successes, they remained on the
defensive as before, wasting the precious weeks while reinforcements kept
steadily pouring in. It is not impossible that, if the campaign had begun
more successfully, we might have met with far more serious failure at a
later stage. Supposing that Sir George White had been able to hold his own
in Natal, that Sir Redvers Buller had crossed the Orange River, had
invaded the Free State, as he originally intended, and succeeded in
reaching Bloemfontein. Judging by the experience Lord Roberts, with a far
larger army, comprising over 20,000 mounted men, afterwards had of the
skill and mobility of the scattered remnants of the Boer commandos on his
eastern flank, is it inconceivable that General Buller, with barely 40,000
men, with hopelessly inadequate cavalry and mounted infantry, with the
unbroken forces of the Republics hovering round him on every side, might
have been cut off and destroyed, or compelled to make a disastrous retreat
to the Orange river or even to the coast? Such a blow would have found
England unprepared. While a new army was being got ready and sent across
the sea in frantic haste, rebellion would have spread like wildfire over
almost the whole of Cape Colony. The reconquest of South Africa might
well, in such a case, have proved a matter of years and involved efforts
which would have permanently crippled the resources of the British Empire
elsewhere.
The Nation's Recessional.
But the war has not only shaken our military organisation. It has
profoundly affected the whole nation in many ways. The Mournful Monday of
Nicholson's Nek, the Black Week of Stormberg, Magersfontein and Colenso,
the alternate hope and disappointment of six weeks' fighting on the banks
of the Tugela, the long anxiety for the fate of Ladysmith, Kimberley and
Mafeking, have taught lessons that nothing else could have taught so well.
The war has brought out many of the nation's best qualities, its
patriotism, its fortitude, its steadfastness. The war has been the
nation's Recessional after all the pomp and show of the year of Jubilee.
It has transmuted the complacent arrogance and contempt of other nations
begotten by long years of peace and prosperity to a truer consciousness
both of our strength and of our defects, and has awakened an earnest
desire to make those defects good. It has set on foot a movement for
administrative reform which, one may confidently hope, will not be
confined to the War Office alone, but extend to every other department of
the national life, and not least to the constitutional framework of the
Empire.
Has War no good in it?
War, cruel and wasteful
though it be, still has its use, so long as it has the power to stir, as
nothing else can, the emotions of a whole nation to its inmost depths; to
appeal to the sentiments of unity, of devotion to a common cause, of
self-sacrifice; to convert the complacent acknowledgment of the existence
of abuses into an earnest desire to sweep those abuses away. An era may
come when a decline in the year's export trade, an increase in the
national drink bill, or the spread of some preventable disease, will
strike at the heart of a whole nation with as profound and startling an
effect as the news of a disastrous defeat, when traders and workmen will
sacrifice their individual interests for the common good as unhesitatingly
as the soldier sacrifices his life on the field of battle. But that day is
still far off in the development of our civilisation, and, till it comes,
the need for war survives. War still remains the supreme test of a
nation's efficiency and the sternest school of a nation's character. To
war England owes not only the possession of her colonies, but the
adventurous roving spirit that has made the English a nation of colonisers
and traders. In that sense at least trade has always followed the flag. It
would be, hard to decide how much of England's commercial supremacy in the
present century has been due to the presence of abundant mineral deposits
and an intelligent free trade policy, and how much has been due to the
spirit of self-reliance, of enterprise and vigour that England won from
the trials and efforts of twenty years of war, ending in complete success.
Has the great national effort of 1870 had nothing to do with the
marvellous material development of modern Germany, or did the great
struggle for liberty and political unity in America leave no trace upon
the American character? There can be no evil greater than a purposeless
war, a war that mends no wrong, that settles no conflict of irreconcilable
ambitions, that clears no ground for fresh development, that only exhausts
without achieving any result. The Crimean War was such. Has the Transvaal
War been such also? The future alone can decide; but if, as we believe,
what it has done has been to destroy a political system based on racial
ascendancy, to sweep away a dishonest and inefficient government, to crush
a narrow and unprogressive racial ambition, hostile to the very existence
of the British power in South Africa, and for ever menacing South Africa
with civil war, and to clear the ground for future progress—if it has done
that, the money and the blood spent upon it will not have been spent in
vain.
Union of the Empire.
But the war has done more
than that. It has brought every part of the British Empire closer
together. The sentiment of unity between the mother country and the
self-governing colonies had been growing stronger for many years. The
importance of the young nations that were springing up in the colonies was
already recognised. The appointment, in July 1895, of one of the ablest of
English politicians, Mr. Chamberlain, to the Colonial Office, was a
mark
of that recognition, and during his tenure of office Mr. Chamberlain has
done much to promote mutual understanding between England and the
colonies, and a common sentiment of patriotism to an Empire in which the
colonies are not possessions, but joint possessors with the mother country
of an Imperial inheritance. It required the touch stone of a great war to
make the Empire feel its unity. The moment the war became probable the
colonies offered their services, and the tidings of initial reverses made
them only the more eager to press their help. The loyalty of India and
other dependencies was no less strikingly shown, though it was held
inadvisable to make use of any but white soldiers in a war fought between
white men in a country where the black man presents so difficult a
problem. The presence of the colonial volunteers has made the whole
character of the war an Imperial one. The Englishman, the Scotchman, the
Irishman, the Welshman, the Canadian, the South African, the Australian,
the New Zealander, the planter from India or Ceylon, have fought side by
side, and exchanged their impressions and political ideas. Every thrill of
hope or fear that has been felt in South Africa or in England has been
felt no less in Canada, in Australia, in New Zealand. Every drop of
colonial blood shed in South Africa has cemented more closely the bond of
kinship between the parts of the British Empire.