tic
colonel of the Suffolks. The key to the Boer stronghold lay in the
kopje of Grassy Hill. Lieutenant-Colonel A.J. Watson had frequently
reconnoitred the Boer position in company with General French. As a
result, he was confident that his battalion could rush the position.
On January 5 he begged for permission to attempt the feat. On the
following day French authorised him to make the attack should he see a
favourable opportunity, on condition that he first informed the
General of his plans and probable time of attack. This he failed to
do, and that night, without further warning, Watson and his men crept
noiselessly out of camp, walking either in canvas shoes or in
stocking-soles in order to deaden the noise of their footsteps.

The foremost ranks were scrambling breathlessly towards the summit,
when a withering Boer fire fell upon their panting lines. It was clear
that they were not only discovered but expected. Watson ordered a
withdrawal. But withdrawal from that stark boulder-strewn hill-side
was almost an impossibility. The column fell into disorder, some
advancing and some retreating, under a fierce fire from the enemy.
Watson himself gathered together the rear company and attempted, with
reckless gallantry, to lead it to the summit. He was among the first
to fall, riddled with bullets, and although his officers perished with
him almost to a man, the men beat a hasty retreat, in face of the
enemy's destructive fire. The affair accounted in all for eleven
officers and 150 men. No doubt the gallant Watson was largely to
blame. But the facts seemed to show that the enemy were in some way
apprised of his intentions. Against such a chance as this, strategy
and generalship are helpless. Certainly French would be the last man
in the world to deny any responsibility, had he been to blame for
that one mishap in a memorable campaign.

One fact was now clear beyond dispute. The enemy's right had been
strongly reinforced and was too alert to allow of much hope of
successful action against it. Nothing daunted, French therefore
directed his energies to the left. A few days later (January 11) he
accomplished the _tour de force_ of the campaign. In the plain to the
west of Colesberg there arose an isolated kopje, some six hundred feet
in height, called Coles Kop. This hill, which rises almost sheer from
the plain, taxes the wind of the unencumbered climber to the utmost.
Being higher than the surrounding kopjes, it commands