BATTLE OF LANGENEK.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 2504, 30 March 1881, Page 2

BATTLE OF LANGENEK.

The special Correspondent of the “ Gape Times” furnishes the following account of the decisive engagement in which General Colley lost his life ; Heights above Langenek, mid-da}’’, Sunday, February 27th.—Our destination last night was kept profoundly secret till the moment of starting, from the high hill on the left of the Nek. There are, as I have described by letter, two lofty hills, one directly on the left flank of Mount Prospect Camp, the other some two miles nearer the Nek, and commanding it ; a ridge, along which runs a Kaffir path connecting the two hills. Starting with three companies of the 58th, two of the 92nd Highlanders, sixty Naval Brigade, and one company of Rifles, we left the company of Rifles at the pass—a difficult and precipitous part of the path or ridge ; one company of Highlanders remained at the base of this hill, and with them all the horses were left. Guided by Kaffirs we toiled up the hill, which in parts is so steep that the men had to crawl upon their hands and knees. Arrived on the crest of the hill before daylight, we found it large and hollowed out like a basin. The Boers camp and laagers at Nek at the back of the hill, also along the ridge, extending to Buffalo, were plainly seen at daylight. The Boers were evidently much suprised to find us here, as they thought it impossible to make a night march here. No videttes were encountered. Firing began at 5 a,ra. on our side ; the Boers rode round till they came into a favorable position and retained it. A brisk fire w'as maintained on both sides the Boers firing 60 shots per minute. At 11.30 Captain Eomilly, of the Naval Brigade, was wounded in the abdomen. Up to this time 4- men had been killed. About one o’clock, of a sudden a most terrific fire came from our left. Immediately every available man of the reserves was hurried up to meet it, and they commenced it well for ten minutes There were men of Naval Brigade, Highlanders, and 58th, all firing as best they could, perhaps fifty in all, against 200 Boers. The Boer fire was now very telling; our men were shot right and left at this point, as they exposed themselves. No man could show his head without a dozen shots fired at him. In ten or fifteen minutes the men wavered and broke, but in answer to shouts of officers, “ Eally on your right ” (that would bring them more to the rear where the general and about fifty men were), they did rally, and came to the crest of the hill, at the point I indicate. Colonel Stewart, Major Fraser, Captain McGregor, staff officers, and indeed every officer present now revolver and sword in hand, encouraged the men by word and action. Crowded as our men were by the necessity of finding cover at all behind this small clump of stones on the ridge, the officers called and directed the men to deploy slightly right and left, to prevent us being flanked on our rear direct. The other side of the hollow basin was at this time only held by some fifteen or twenty men; our direct front by a score more; but they sent word to say that there were not many Boers there in our direct rear, in fact, the ground was so precipitous that no one would scale it. To the front it was also free to a certain extent of cover for the enemy. The Boers had evidently made up their minds to take points of the crest in detail, and now all their efforts were concentrated on the left. Major Fraser sang out “Men of the 92nd don’t forget your bayonets,” Colonel Stewart added, “And the 58th.’’ “ And the Naval Brigade,” came from another officer, Captain McGregor, I think the General at the same time directing the movements as cooly as if at a review. The men did fix bayonets, and standing shoulder to shoulder in'a semicircle, poured volleys back for the volleys fired by the enemy. Numbers of our poor fellows now fell, and they could not be carried far, for there was no shelter of any great safety to take them to. The stand made at this last stage lasted perhaps 10 minutes, and then our men fell short of ammunition. A party of Boers crept up to the two score of our true front and extreme right and rear, and they poured in volleys at the little band of defend ers who fixed bayonets and charged down on the enemy. Perhaps not more than three ever came within thrusting distance, so hot was the fire on them as they charged the 20 yards separating them from their foes, to return again to where the General and staff and main body, now not more than 100 of our men, where the officers still encouraged them to fire low, and only when the Boers jumped up to pour a volley in. “ Give them the bayonet next time after they have fired, ’’ was the last command I heard given, and in a moment our poor fellows broke and rushed for the crest in our rear. 1 ran with them, being only four

or five yards behind the line that had made the last stand. How anyone gained the ridge at the rear and escaped to camp down the precipice—there a fall of thirty feet clear and.then on and over enormous boulders and bush, a good quarter of a mile yet to go before the foot of the hill was reached, under the bullets that rained on us from all sides—l don’t know. Four men dropped by my side as I ran with the crowd across the basin before even reaching the head of the precipice. Fortunately there was a kind of heather growing out of the side of the precipice—l can now only speak for myself, and I managed to save myself from injury in jumping down by catching at this herb. Then immediately I found I was with two or three others who came after me exposed to a dreadful fire as we scrambled over the rock. The bullets rained on stones, and several poor fellows, panting and bleeding, were struck as they tried to scramble away. I determined to give up running, as I could tell by the way the bullets came that the Boers were all round • us, though I could not see them myself, having thought best to follow a donga shrouded in bush, taking shelter as best I could in a dry gully covered with slabs of rock. I determined to wait till nightfall, and then try to reach camp. All the while, and for at least half an hour after we had made a rush away, the bullets of the enemy' pelted incessantly in the bush and on the rocks in every direction, as I could hear by the sound of powder and lead Then I heard big guns firing, and took hope, thinking a party' from camp, with artillery, had been pushed to the base of the hill to cover the flight of the fugitives. Half a dozen shots from the big guns and then the fire of the Boers above my bead and right and left ceased, and I heard a voice speaking in English, and several others in Dutch close around us. Knowing that they must be searching for their enemies, I came out of my hiding place and sung out to them. “ Have you any gun?” The reply was, “No, I have no gun ; lam not a soldier.” ,! Then come up here, we will not shoot.” I accepted the invitation, and clambering back up the rocks through the bush, paw a gentleman, who said he was a field cornet. I told him my business, and asked to see the General. Hearing an English voice, a dozen of our poor fellows who had been hiding within twenty yards of me sang out for help, and I told them to come out, as the Boers would not hurt them. Crawling as best they could (everyone wounded), they clambered up, delivered up their arms —those that had them—and we all went to the crest again, finding on the way Lieut. Hill of the 58th, with his arm injnred by a bullet wound, but as cheerful under the misfortune and as quiet as though nothing was the matter. This is the gentleman who distinguished himself by carrying woundedffrom under fire fat Langenek. Seeing Mr Smit, the Genera], 1 told him who I was. He said there had been six correspondents to him already. There happened to be only a correspondent of the “ Daily News,” “ Standard,” and myself in this action. I showed my pass, and got leave to return to camp on condition I would send them a copy of my account of the fight. First he asked, “ Who is the officer killed ?” I said. “ Take me to him and I will tell you if I can.” I accompanied him to the spot where our final stand was made. There lay a body, its face covered with a helmet. By the clothing I recognised it at once. Lifting the helmet up I made sure it was our poor General, the bravest soldier of the day, a gentleman who had shown me many kindnesses since I have been in camp there—a commander who was loved and admired by every man under him, from highest; to lowest. Knowing I would be first to carry this sad news to camp I wanted some token to bear out my information, but could find none about the body save a white handkerchief, and that not marked. The Boers doubted me when I said “ It is the General,” but when they questioned me again and again, “Do you know him ?” “ Are you sure you know him ?” I replied, “ I give you my word of honor it is General Colley.” They were satisfied. No word of exultation escaped their lips when they learnt this. I said, “ You have killed the bravest gentleman on this field,” and they answered, “ Yes, he fought well.” One man said, “He was a very nice gentleman ; he dined at my house when he went to Pretoria,,’ and another said, “ He did not think we were wrong, but he was a soldier, and he must obey orders.” Another remarked, “ It was no use fighting against men who had right on their side.” Round the General lay the dead and wounded —Captain Romilly, Naval Brigade, and Lieutenant Maude (lately joined the 58th), I myself saw amongst the former—but I hurried away with a guide and the white flag past the enemy’s videttes, and accompanied by Cameron, of the “ Standard ” whom we picked up on the way down, our guide took us safely outside the Boer lines down the road we came up previously. Before we got far we saw the Boers on horseback, to the number of two or three hundred, galloping round the base of our hill to the laager made by the Highlanders at the foot. Shots were exchanged, and then the guns at the camp opened on the Boers, and kept them in check until the garrison of the laager had fallen back on camp, defiling back through a narrow pass. This we saw as we descended the rocky slope, and still more painful, we saw at every twenty or thirty paces our poor fellows either dead or wounded. They dotted the ground as far as the last bridge we passed. Poor Captain Morris, of the 58th, attended by his servant, was wcunded in the shoulder, Cameron and I hurried on, anxious to give the information we had, so that help might be sent to the suffering. A mile from camp, Cameron knocked up, and I trudged on promising to send a horse for him. _ Close to the camp an artilleryman coming out gave me his horse to ride, and so I arrived in camp.