heir command were heavier than any
which could be placed against them. This was made more clear on October
21st, the day after the battle, when the force, having withdrawn
overnight from the useless hill which they had captured, moved across
to a fresh position on the far side of the railway. At four in the
afternoon a very heavy gun opened from a distant hill, altogether beyond
the extreme range of our artillery, and plumped shell after shell into
our camp. It was the first appearance of the great Creusot. An officer
with several men of the Leicesters, and some of our few remaining
cavalry, were bit. The position was clearly impossible, so at two in the
morning of the 22nd the whole force was moved to a point to the south
of the town of Dundee. On the same day a reconnaissance was made in the
direction of Glencoe Station, but the passes were found to be strongly
occupied, and the little army marched back again to its original
position. The command had fallen to Colonel Yule, who justly considered
that his men were dangerously and uselessly exposed, and that his
correct strategy was to fall back, if it were still possible, and join
the main body at Ladysmith, even at the cost of abandoning the two
hundred sick and wounded who lay with General Symons in the hospital at
Dundee. It was a painful necessity, but no one who studies the situation
can have any doubt of its wisdom. The retreat was no easy task, a march
by road of some sixty or seventy miles through a very rough country with
an enemy pressing on every side. Its successful completion without any
loss or any demoralisation of the troops is perhaps as fine a military
exploit as any of our early victories. Through the energetic and loyal
co-operation of Sir George White, who fought the actions of Elandslaagte
and of Rietfontein in order to keep the way open for them, and owing
mainly to the skillful guidance of Colonel Dartnell, of the Natal
Police, they succeeded in their critical manoeuvre. On October 23rd they
were at Beith, on the 24th at Waselibank Spruit, on the 25th at Sunday
River, and next morning they marched, sodden with rain, plastered with
mud, dog-tired, but in the best of spirits, into Ladysmith amid the
cheers of their comrades. A battle, six days without settled sleep, four
days without a proper meal, winding up with a single march of thirty-two
miles over heavy ground and through a pelting rain storm--that was the
record of the Dundee column. They had