Showing posts with label Sir George White. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sir George White. Show all posts

Friday, December 13, 2013

Christmas in Ladysmith: Boer War 1899 4


Boers in entrenched position near Ladysmith

BIRTHS & DEATHS

During the four months of the siege, Ladysmith became a world in microcosm, a stage where everyday events were played out against the stark backdrop of war. Caught in the spotlight were the ordinary men and women who had suddenly had greatness thrust upon them. Their response to the situation as they endeavoured to maintain some semblance of normality while dealing with abnormal, often tragic, circumstances, brought forth flashes of individual heroism and an underlying stoicism that was remarkable.

Not everyone was a hero, of course. Some shop-owners concealed their goods hoping for higher prices as the siege continued, but the offenders were rooted out and punished. A trooper in a colonial unit was caught signalling the enemy and immediately executed. A civilian was court-martialled and given twelve months hard labour for attempting to create despondency amongst the troops. Three privates were shot for disobedience and one hanged for sleeping while on guard.

Life went on. Children were born: the first siege baby, a Mrs Moore’s, made its entrance on 12 November. There was an addition to the family of Ladysmith’s ex-Mayor G W Willis, a son, born on 6 December and christened Harry Buller Siege. Ladysmith resident Bella Craw notes in her diary that Mrs Coventry’s baby had a ‘short, sad little existence’, born in a cellar during the first week of the bombardment and dying on 21 February.


Royal Hotel Ladysmith damaged

Death was ever-present in the shape of shell or sniper-fire. Dr Stark was killed instantly on 18 November at the doorway of the Royal Hotel when this building was hit for the third time. A railway worker named Mason died when a shell struck the station on 16 November; he was buried wrapped in the Union Jack, coffins being in short supply. On 17 December, a shell killed six members of the Natal Carbineers and fourteen of their mounts; another exploded in the same regiment’s lines the following day, killing four troopers. Thirteen men died and twenty-one were wounded when the Gloucesters’ and Devons’ camps were hit on 22 December. As the siege dragged on, familiarity with the shelling bred contempt, and people went about their daily business scarcely aware of impending danger. Considering the fact that the besieged residents were sitting ducks for the enemy guns, it’s amazing that casualties weren’t more numerous.


Ladysmith Town Hall damaged during Siege

Each week brought accounts of narrow shaves. Saddler Sergeant Lyle was seated on a box inside a tent when a shrapnel fragment flew between his legs, leaving him and a man asleep nearby unscathed, but destroying a stack of rifles. Civilians weren’t safe at home: Bert Anderson was taking a bath in his back yard when a shell struck, fortunately inflicting no injuries.


Gen White's house struck by shell

There were some random accidents: an African drowned in the Klip which was swollen after heavy rains, when he attempted to swim across the river for a 5/- bet. A young Natal Carbineer drowned after walking into the river in a delirious state.

Worst of all, though, were the slow and lingering deaths from disease as enteric fever (typhoid) and dysentery began to take their toll.

MORALE

Boredom was an enemy of a different kind. To keep up their spirits the beleaguered inhabitants turned to various forms of recreation: football and cricket matches were held in defiance of falling shells and the cavalry played polo (while they still had horses). There were musical concerts and the Gordon Highlanders were much in demand with their bagpipes. Two siege newspapers, The Ladysmith Lyre and The Ladysmith Bombshell, provided light-hearted information and amusement, something to read at increasingly meagre mealtimes and to help lessen the tension.


With the meat ration reduced and beer and tobacco supplies running out, it can’t have been easy to retain a sense of humour, yet diaries and letters written during the siege aren’t all doom and gloom. Some reported events may not have been funny at the time, such as the first train to Intombi hospital camp being derailed because it hit a cow. However, no doubt there were some smiles at Colonel Ward’s response to the complaint that soldiers bathing in the river were upsetting the town’s female population: he suggested that the ladies need not look.  


All Saints' Church Ladysmith damaged









Thursday, December 12, 2013

Christmas in Ladysmith: Boer War 1899 3

BESIEGED

Sir George White
It’s strange that White didn’t send more people out of Ladysmith while the railway was operating southwards. As it was, he was left with about 22 000 mouths to feed. The Town Clerk of Ladysmith, George Lines, noted that there were 2 200 white civilian residents, 1 200 Indians and 1 500 Africans, probably a conservative estimate. 
There had been an influx of refugees from outlying areas prior to the start of the hostilities. White’s fighting force consisted of 572 officers and 13 000 men, including the regulars (infantry, cavalry and artillery), irregulars, Natal volunteer units and the Naval Brigade.

The biblical analogy of the loaves and fishes comes to mind, but the situation in Ladysmith at the beginning of the siege didn’t appear quite that critical. An immense number of stores had been stockpiled. True, some of these had been sent up to Dundee and subsequently lost. However, there remained 979 000 lbs of flour, 173 000 lb of tinned meat, 142 000 lbs of biscuit, 267 000 lbs of tea, 9 500 lbs of coffee, plus quantities of maize, oats, bran and hay, as well as wine, spirits and medical supplies. There were 9 800 horses and mules, 2 500 oxen and a few hundred sheep, and these animals could be eaten if necessary. Additionally, tinned and other provisions held by Ladysmith’s citizens were purchased by the Army.




There was no immediate prospect of relief. White’s army made some forays out of Ladysmith, including a night sortie on Gun Hill undertaken on 7 November and an attack on Surprise Hill on 10 November. It was fortunate that the big Naval guns had reached Ladysmith before the trap shut tight. Without these to match the might of the Long Toms, the story of the siege could have been a much briefer narrative.

Now it became a waiting game. As White said to his staff on 20 November, ‘We have two things to do – to kill time and to kill Boers – both equally difficult.’








Col. Royston C.O. Natal Volunteers and Staff, Ladysmith


THE BESIEGERS
 
Gen. Piet Joubert
Ladysmith and its defenders were all that stood between the Boers and the port of Durban. Commandant-General Piet Joubert allowed thousands of his burghers (whose real value lay in their mobility as mounted infantry) to be stuck outside Ladysmith, which proved to be a tougher nut to crack than expected. General Ben Viljoen in his later reminiscences remarked, ‘The whole siege of Ladysmith and the manner in which the besieged garrison was ineffectually pounded at with our big guns for several months, seem to me an unfathomable mystery…’.   


The truth is that Joubert thought Ladysmith would surrender. He couldn’t have been more wrong.



Boers firing during Siege of Ladysmith


Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Christmas in Ladysmith: Boer War 1899 1

‘It’ll be over by Christmas’ was the phrase on everyone’s lips as British Imperial and Colonial troops were mobilized for the Anglo-Boer War, officially declared on 11 October 1899.

Sir Alfred Milner
Two days earlier, an ultimatum had been received from Kruger’s Transvaal Government demanding the immediate removal of British forces on the borders of the Boer Republic, and the withdrawal of all Imperial troops which had arrived in South Africa in the course of that year, as well as any reinforcements then on their way to South Africa by sea. Should the demands not be complied with within forty-eight hours, this would be considered a formal declaration of war. Britain’s reply, couched by Sir Alfred Milner, was succinct: the conditions demanded by the Government of the South African Republic were such as Her Majesty’s Government deemed impossible to discuss.

After that, events swiftly gained momentum and in the ensuing surge of British patriotic fervour, there was no time to waste on idle speculation as to the outcome of the decision. It was impossible to predict that the might of the Empire would be challenged by ‘a handful of Boers’ to such an extent that a long, bitter and costly struggle lay ahead – and that for 22 000 people soon to be besieged in the Natal town of Ladysmith, the Christmas of 1899 would be one they would never forget.


WHY LADYSMITH?

Pakenham, in his book The Boer War, is less than complimentary about Ladysmith, describing it as ‘hot, dusty, disease-ridden and claustrophobic’. Nevertheless, it had been an important outpost since the 1840s. Lying among low hills at the foot of the Biggarsberg and Drakensberg ranges, Ladysmith was the last stop for wagons travelling north or south to replenish provisions before the long haul across the mountains. It was named on 11 October 1850 (exactly 49 years before the expiry of the Boer ultimatum in 1899), in honour of Lady Juana Maria, the Spanish wife of Sir Harry Smith, then governor of the Cape.




A decade later, a fort was built and the town expanded steadily. There was a significant milestone in 1885 when the railway reached Ladysmith. By 1890, a permanent military camp known as ‘Tin Town’ had been established: vast amounts of stores and ammunition were gradually accumulated, and Ladysmith became the main British supply base and military training ground in Natal. Strategically-speaking, it was also the junction of the railway line between the Free State, Transvaal and Natal.

On the eve of the outbreak of the Anglo-Boer War, Ladysmith was the third largest town in the colony, with two main streets, shops and houses, a Town Hall built in 1893, a railway station, the Royal Hotel, several churches and a convent. Many of its buildings, including the Hindu mosque, were of wood under corrugated iron roofs. 

It’s doubtful whether the British Commander-in-Chief, Sir George White, entering Ladysmith on 11 October 1899, was impressed by what he saw. From a military point of view, he certainly wouldn’t have chosen it as a place in which to be besieged: it was practically indefensible, hemmed in and overlooked by the surrounding hills. But that Ladysmith would be forced to withstand a siege was the last thing anyone anticipated.



Ladysmith and the Klip River


To be continued