When I arrived with Buller’s forces at the end of October 1899 as war correspondent for the New York Times and Black and White Budget, the British troops in South Africa were already under siege. Buller was forced to scrap his original plan and, instead, establish three detachments to relieve the besieged garrisons. One division, led by Lt. General Lord Methuen, was to follow the Western Railway to the north and relieve Kimberley and Mafeking. A smaller force of about 3000 led by Major General William Gatacre, was to push north toward the railway junction at Stormberg to secure the Cape Midlands district from Boer raids. Finally, Buller himself would lead the major part of the army to relieve Ladysmith to the east.
I was assigned to Gatacre's force and experienced with him the period known as Black Week from December 10th to the 15th, when the British suffered a series of disastrous losses in three major battles at Magersfontein, Colenso and Stormberg. Reports from the front do not document this clearly but the simple truth is that Gatacre's strategy at Stormberg was ill-thought and his field preparations were rushed. In the event, his command of the battle was usurped when an officer of the Northumberland Fusiliers took it upon himself to order a retreat and most of the forces began to fall back under attack from mounted Boer reinforcements. It was not until they reached Molteno that Gatacre realised over 600 of us had been left behind. Hopelessly cut off, surrender was the stark choice for many but, having witnessed at first hand the wretched brutality of the Boer prison camps, I chose flight ...
Alone in the open miles of veldt, with no means of communication, I was unaware of the reports circulating back to London and New York that I was in the hands of the Boers. Travelling mainly by night for some measure of safety, though, and sustaining my strength through whatever vegetables and crops I managed to unearth, I was, in fact, relatively safe and well. The hundred miles or so to King William's Town took around six weeks, then on to an artillery transport to Port Elizabeth to pick up a passage back to England, where I spent just two days before leaving once again for New York, arriving on 14th March 1900.
With so many stories to file and details for the publication of my book to be completed, there was little time for me to even consider arrangements for my imminent wedding. I will be eternally grateful that this responsibility was taken on by the beautiful Mary who was soon to become my bride and by the Lamsons, the wonderful family of which I was soon to become a part.
We married on June 1st and the reporters of the New York Times and the Tribune wrote glowingly of our nuptials. I believe, though, that to fully capture the experience of everything that had so far kept us apart .. and the joys that we were now able to share together, somebody will one day have to add music to the words and pen a song entitled "Back in The Arms of Mary" ...
I was assigned to Gatacre's force and experienced with him the period known as Black Week from December 10th to the 15th, when the British suffered a series of disastrous losses in three major battles at Magersfontein, Colenso and Stormberg. Reports from the front do not document this clearly but the simple truth is that Gatacre's strategy at Stormberg was ill-thought and his field preparations were rushed. In the event, his command of the battle was usurped when an officer of the Northumberland Fusiliers took it upon himself to order a retreat and most of the forces began to fall back under attack from mounted Boer reinforcements. It was not until they reached Molteno that Gatacre realised over 600 of us had been left behind. Hopelessly cut off, surrender was the stark choice for many but, having witnessed at first hand the wretched brutality of the Boer prison camps, I chose flight ...
Alone in the open miles of veldt, with no means of communication, I was unaware of the reports circulating back to London and New York that I was in the hands of the Boers. Travelling mainly by night for some measure of safety, though, and sustaining my strength through whatever vegetables and crops I managed to unearth, I was, in fact, relatively safe and well. The hundred miles or so to King William's Town took around six weeks, then on to an artillery transport to Port Elizabeth to pick up a passage back to England, where I spent just two days before leaving once again for New York, arriving on 14th March 1900.
With so many stories to file and details for the publication of my book to be completed, there was little time for me to even consider arrangements for my imminent wedding. I will be eternally grateful that this responsibility was taken on by the beautiful Mary who was soon to become my bride and by the Lamsons, the wonderful family of which I was soon to become a part.
We married on June 1st and the reporters of the New York Times and the Tribune wrote glowingly of our nuptials. I believe, though, that to fully capture the experience of everything that had so far kept us apart .. and the joys that we were now able to share together, somebody will one day have to add music to the words and pen a song entitled "Back in The Arms of Mary" ...
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