The
Yorkshires were swung round wide upon the right, but the rest of
the brigade, the Welsh Regiment leading, made a frontal attack upon
the ridge.
It was done coolly and deliberately, the men taking
advantage of every possible cover. Boers could be seen leaving
their position in small bodies as the crackling, swaying line of
the British surged ever higher upon the hillside. At last, with a
cheer, the Welshmen with their Kent and Essex comrades swept over
the crest into the ranks of that cosmopolitan crew of sturdy
adventurers who are known as the Johannesburg Police. For once the
loss of the defence was greater than that of the attack. These
mercenaries had not the instinct which teaches the Boer the right
instant for flight, and they held their position too long to get
away. The British had left four hundred men on the track of that
gallant advance, but the vast majority of them were wounded - too
often by those explosive or expansive missiles which make war more
hideous. Of the Boers we actually buried over a hundred on the
ridge, and their total casualties must have been considerably in
excess of ours.
The action was strategically well conceived; all that Lord Roberts
could do for complete success had been done; but tactically it was
a poor affair, considering his enormous preponderance in men and
guns. There was no glory in it, save for the four regiments who set
their faces against that sleet of lead.
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