Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1900-01-27
aaliseellaneous 8eaaing.
BLOODY MAGERSFONTElN.
Picturesque Story of the Defeat of General
Methuen.


thuen, with 12, 900 British, was defeat
ed on December IL, by $4,000 Beers,
IS from the special correspondent OF
the London Daily Mail:
Our troops extended over many
miles of country. Every move had to
be made in full view of the enemy
upon level plain where collie dog
could not have moved unperceived by
those foemen hidden so securely be-
hind impregnable ramparts. During
the whole of Sunday our gunners play
ed havoc with the enemy, the shoot
ing of the Naval Brigade being of such
nature that even thus early in the
fight the big gun of the bluejackels,
with it's 42.pound lyddite shell, struck
terror into the hearts of the enemy.
But the Beers were not idle. When
ever our infantry, in manouverlng,
came within range of their rifles, our
ranks began to thin out, and the blood
of our gallant fellows dyed the sunbak-
ed veldt in richest crimson.
During the night that followed, it
was considered expedient that the
Highland brigade, about 1000 strong,
under General Wauchope, should get
close enough to the lines of the foe to
make it possible to charge the heights.
At midnight the gallant but illfated
general moved cautiously through the
darkness toward the kopje where the
Beers were most strongly intrenched.
They were led by a guide, who was
supposed to know every inch of the
country, out into the darkness of an
African night. The brigade marched
in line of quarter-column, each man
stepping cautiously and slowly, for
they knew that any sound meant
death. Every order was given in a
hoarse whisper, and in whispers it was
passed along the ranks from man to
man nothing was heard as they moy-
ed toward the gloomy, steel fronted
heights but the brushing of their feet
in the veldt grass and the deep-drawn
breaths of the marching men.
So, onward, until 8 o'clock on the
morning of Monday. Then out of the
darkness a rifle rang, sharp and clear,
a herald of disaster-a soldier had
tripped in the dark over the hidden
wires laid down by the enemy. In
second, IN the twinkling Of an eye, the
searchlighls of the Beers fell broad
and clear as the monday sun on the
ranks of the doomed Highlanders,
though it left the enemy concealed in
the shadows of the frowning mass OF
hills behind them. For one brief mo-
meht the SCOTS seemed paralyzed by
the suddenness of their discovery, for
they knew that they were huddled
together like sheep within so yards of
the trenches of the foe. Then, clear
above the confusion, rolled the voice
of the general: "Steady, men, steady !"
And, like an echo to the veteran, out
came the crash of nearly thousand
rifles, not so PAGES from them. The
HighIanders reeled before the shock
like trees before the tempest. Their
best, their bravest, fell in that wild
hail of lead. General Wauchope was
down, riddled with bullets; yet gasp
ing, dyin :, bleeding from every vein,
the Highland chieftain raised himself
on his hands and knees, and cheered
his men forward. Men and officers
fell in heaps together.
The Black Watch charged, and the
Gordons and the Seaforths, with yell
that stirred the British camp below,
rushed onward-onward to death or
disaster. The accursed wires caught
them round the legs until they foun-
dered like trapped wolves, aud all the
time the rifles of the foe sang the song
of death in their ears. Then they fell
back, broken and beaten, leaving near
ly 1900 dead and wounded just where
the broad breast of the grassy veldt
melts into the embrace of the rugged
African bills, and an hour later the
dawning came on the dreariest day
that Scotland has known for a genera
ton past. Of her officers, the flower
of her chivalry, the pride of her breed
ing; but few remained to tell the tale
truly; but none tainted with dishon'
or or smirched with disgrace, for up
those heights under similar circum-
stances even a brigade of devils could
scarce have hoped to pass. All that
mortal men could do the Scots did
they tried, they failed, they fell, and
there is nothing left US now but to
mourn for them, and avenge them, and
am no prophet if the day is distant
when the Highland bayonet will write
the name of Wauchope large and deep
in the best blood of the Beers.
All that fateful day our wounded
men lay close to the Boer lines under
a blazing sun; over their heads the
shots of friends and foes passed with
out ceasing. Many a gallant deed
was done by comrades helping com
rades men who were shot through
the body lay without water, enduring
all the agony of thirst engendered by
their wounds and the blistering heat
of the day; to them crawled Scots
with shattered limbs, sharing the last
drop of water in their bottles, and
taking messages to be delivered to
mourning women in the cottage home
of far off Scotland. Many last fare
we'll was whispered by pain drawn lips
in between ranges of the rifles; many