BATTLE OF STORMBERG.

In the beginning of November, 1899, the commandoes of Rouxville, Smithfield, and Bethulie entered the Cape Colony at different points.  Having occupied several villages in the Eastern Province, they concentrated towards the end of the month in the Stormbergen.  Our tents were pitched on the northern slopes of this mountain range, which runs from east to west, six miles to the north of Molteno.  Here we were to have our first lesson in actual fighting; for up to that time we had not encountered any resistance on the part of the enemy.

On the 9th of December, the night fixed on by General Gatacre to strike a blow at the Boer forces at Stormberg, Assistant Chief Commandant Grobler left that place with about nine hundred burghers, intending to occupy Steynsburg.  The enemy, having heard of their departure, and knowing that our positions were in consequence so much weaker, left that same evening, fully resolved to surprise us, and, if possible, reoccupy the Stormbergen, which were abandoned at the first approach of our commandoes.

The object of the British was to attack us on our right flank before dawn, seize our positions and force us to surrender or retreat.  On paper this plan presented no difficulties, but its accomplishment was not quite so easy, and proved a dangerous operation.  The English general, as we afterwards learnt, had started for the Boer positions at too late an hour to reach them in due time; and, moreover, had lost his way in the darkness of the night, so that the first rays of the rising sun were lighting the majestic mountain tops before he was in position.

The “brandwachten”—­night pickets—­of the Rouxville Commando were already on their way back to the camp, when one of them, who had by chance returned to the top of the mountain, saw, in the shadow of the valley, and on the slopes of the mountain, human forms moving silently onward.  One glance of his keen eye assured him that those forms were enemies.  Bang! went the first rifle report.  The other pickets all rushed back and opened fire as swiftly as they could handle their Mausers.  This brought the enemy to a standstill, for they, too, were surprised.

In the Boer camp below some of us were still peacefully sleeping, while others were enjoying their first cup of coffee.  With the rifle reports came wakefulness and bustle.  It did not take us a moment to realise that speed would be our only means of salvation.  Should the enemy reach the summit first, disaster and defeat would be our lot.  For some minutes it was a scene of confusion.  The horses, saddles, bridles, rifles and bandoliers, where were they?  Some knew, and had their equipments ready in a moment; others, less careful, did not know, and sought almost frantically for theirs.  We made for the mountain and scaled it as swiftly as our feet could carry us.  Exhausted and breathless we reached the summit before the enemy.