Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1900-01-18
Correspondence Associated Press.)

mOoI biiliiduL WOIh III the way OF de-
scriptive writing ver done by British
war correspondents has been appearing
In the London papers during the last
few days. Bennett Burleigh's splendid
description of the battle of Colenso,
which was cabled in part by the Asso-
ciated Press is not one bit finer than
the account of Magersfontein by the
correspondent of the Daily News. After
tracing the terrible loss suffered by the
Highland brigade at Magersfontein.
the Daily News correspondent thus
writes Of the death of Gen. Wauchope:
Three hundred yards to the rear Of
| the little township of the Modder river,
| just as the sun was sinking in a blaze
of African splendor, on the evening of
Tuesday, the 18th of December, a long,
shallow grave lay exposed In the breast
| of veldt. To the west the broad river
fringed with trees ran murmuringly;
to the eastward the heights still held by
the enemy, scowled ~menacingly; north
and south the veldt undulated peace
fully. A few PAGES to the northward
| Of that grave fifty dead Highlanders
lay, dressed as they had fallen on the
| field of battle. They had followed
| their chief to the field and they were
| to follow him to the grave. How grim
and stern those men looked as they lay
face upward to the sky, with great
hands clinched in the last death agony,
and brows still knitted with the stern
lust Of the strife in which they had
fallen. The plaids dear to every High
land clan were represented there, and,
as l looked out of the distance came
the sound of the pipes-it was the
General Coming to Join His Men.
There, right under the eyes of the enc
my moved with slow and solemn tread
all that remained of the Highland
brigade. In front of them walked the
| chaplain with barred head, dressed in his
robes of office; then came the pipers
with their pipes, sixteen in all, and be-
hind them with arms reversed, moved
the Highlanders, dressed in all the re-
| gala of their regiment and in the midst
the dead General, borne by four of his
comrades.
"Out swelled the pipes to the strains
of The Flowers Of the Forest now
ringing proud and high until the SOL
diers' heads went back in naughty de-
ianee, and eyes flashed through tears
like sunlight on steel; singing to
a moaning wall like a woman mourn
ing her first born, until the proud
| heads dropped forward till they rested
on heaving chests and tears rolled
down the wan and SCARED faces and
| the choking sobs broke through the sol
emn rhythm of the march of death.
Right up to the grave they marched,
then broke away in companies until
the General lay in the shallow grave
with a Scottish square of armed men
around him. Only the dead mans son
| and a small remnant of his officers
| stood with the chaplain and the pipes
| while the solemn services of the church
were spoken.
Then once again the pipes pealed
| out and Lochaber no More cut through
the stiffness like a cry of pain until
n
Could Almost Hear the Widow
in her Highland home moaning for the
| soldier she would welcome back no
more. Then, as if touched by the
magic of one thought, the soldiers
turned their tear-damp eyes from the
| still form in the shallow grave toward
the heights where Cronje, the Lion of
| Africa and his soldiers stood. Then
| every cheek flushed crimson, and the
! strong Jaws set like steel and the veins
on the hands that clasped the rife
| handles swelled almost to bursting with
the fervor of the grip and that look
from those silent, armed men spoke
| more eloquently than ever spoke the
| tongues of orators. For on each frown-
ing face the spirit OF vengeance sat
| and each sparkling eye asked silently
for blood. God help the Beers when
next the Highlander pibroch sounds.
God rest the Beers souls when the
| Highland bayonets charge, for neither
| death, nor hell, nor things above, nor
| things below will hold the Scots back
from their blood feud.
AT the head OF the grave, at the
| point nearest the enemy the General
was laid to sleep, his officers grouped
| around him, while in line behind him
| his soldiers were laid in a double row
wrapped in their blankets. No shots
were fired over the dead men resting so
peacefully. Only the salute was given
| and then the men marched campward
as the darkness OF an African night
| rolled over the far-stretching breadth
OF the veldt. To the gentle woman
who bears the Generals name, the
Highland brigade send their deepest
sympathy. To the mothers and wives,
the sisters and the sweethearts in the
cottage home by hillside and glen they