e enemy at the Tugela, Joubert, with three times that
number of men to guard impotent Ladysmith, declined to send any ammunition
for their big guns, voted to retreat, and finally fled northward to
Colenso, deserting the fighting men, destroying the bridges and railways
as he progressed, and even leaving his own tents and equipment behind.

There were extenuating circumstances in connection with Joubert's failure
in the campaign--his age, an illness, and an accident while he was in
laager--and it is but charitable to grant that these were fundamentally
responsible for his shortcomings, but it is undoubted that he was
primarily responsible for the failure of the Natal campaign. The army
which he commanded in Natal, although only twelve or thirteen thousand men
in strength, was the equal in fighting ability of seventy-five thousand
British troops, and the only thing it lacked was a man who would fight
with them and lead them after a fleeing enemy. If the Commandant-General
had pursued the British forces after all their defeats and had drawn the
burghers out of their laagers by the force of his own example, the major
part of the history of the Natal campaign would have been made near the
Indian Ocean instead of on the banks of the Tugela. The majority of the
Boers in Natal needed a commander-in-chief who would say to them "Come,"
but Joubert only said "Go."

The death of General Joubert in Pretoria, on March 26th, was sincerely
regretted by all South Africans, for he undoubtedly was one of the most
distinguished men in the country. During his long public career he made
many friends who held him in high honour for his sterling qualities, his
integrity, and his devotion to his country's cause. He made mistakes--and
there are few men who are invulnerable to them--but he died while striving
to do that which he regarded the best for his country and its cause. If
dying for one's country is patriotism, then Joubert's death was sweet.

When war-clouds were gathering and the storm was about to burst over the
Transvaal Piet Cronje sat on the stoep of his farmhouse in Potchefstroom,
evolving in his mind a system of tactics which he would follow when the
conflict began. He was certain that he would be chosen to lead his people,
for he had led them in numerous native wars, in the conflict in 1881, and
later when Jameson made his ill-starred entry into the Transvaal. Cronje
was a man who loved to be amid the quietude of his farm, but he