of the Lancasters, who had crawled from a sickbed, was found dead upon the furthest crest.  Young Murray of the Scottish Rifles, dripping from five wounds, still staggered about among his men.  And the men were worthy of such officers.  ’No retreat!  No retreat!’ they yelled when some of the front line were driven in.  In all regiments there are weaklings and hang-backs, and many a man was wandering down the reverse slopes when he should have been facing death upon the top, but as a body British troops have never stood firm through a more fiery ordeal than on that fatal hill. . .

The position was so bad that no efforts of officers or men could do anything to mend it.  They were in a murderous dilemma.  If they fell back for cover the Boer riflemen would rush the position.  If they held their ground this horrible shell fire must continue, which they had no means of answering.  Down at Gun Hill in front of the Boer position we had no fewer than five batteries, the 78th, 7th, 73rd, 63rd, and 61st howitzer, but a ridge intervened between them and the Boer guns which were shelling Spion Kop, and this ridge was strongly entrenched.  The naval guns from distant Mount Alice did what they could, but the range was very long, and the position of the Boer guns uncertain.  The artillery, situated as it was, could not save the infantry from the horrible scourging which they were enduring.

There remains the debated question whether the British guns could have been taken to the top.  Mr. Winston Churchill, the soundness of whose judgment has been frequently demonstrated during the war, asserts that it might have been done.  Without venturing to contradict one who was personally present, I venture to think that there is strong evidence to show that it could not have been done without blasting and other measures, for which there was no possible time.  Captain Hanwell of the 78th R.F.A., upon the day of the battle had the very utmost difficulty with the help of four horses in getting a light Maxim on to the top, and his opinion, with that of other artillery officers, is that the feat was an impossible one until the path had been prepared.  When night fell Colonel Sim was despatched with a party of Sappers to clear the track and to prepare two emplacements upon the top, but in his advance he met the retiring infantry.

Throughout the day reinforcements had pushed up the hill, until two full brigades had been drawn into the fight.  From the other side of the ridge Lyttelton sent up the Scottish Rifles, who reached the summit, and added their share to the shambles upon the top.  As the shades of night closed in, and the glare of the bursting shells became more lurid, the men lay extended upon the rocky ground, parched and exhausted.  They were hopelessly jumbled together, with the exception of the Dorsets, whose cohesion may have been due to superior discipline, less exposure, or to the fact that their khaki differed somewhat in colour from that of the others.  Twelve hours of so terrible an experience had had a strange effect upon many of the men.  Some were dazed and battle-struck, incapable of clear understanding.  Some were as incoherent as drunkards.  Some lay in an overpowering drowsiness.  The most were doggedly patient and long-suffering, with a mighty longing for water obliterating every other emotion.