From time to time in recent chapters I have noticed cases where the Boers showed unusual boldness in pressing on horseback, where the nature of the ground permitted, into decisive rifle-range, sometimes firing from the saddle as they came, and sometimes actually mingling with our men. I have noted similar cases of bold mounted aggression in our men, though without saddle-fire. I purpose now to treat the subject as a whole, taking the Boers first.

Faint symptoms of this were observable as early as Graspan (November, 1899). Sannah’s Post (March, 1900) was the first occasion, I believe, where they rode into close quarters in the course of pressing a rear-guard. The same tactics appear again in November of the same year at Komati River and elsewhere in the Eastern Transvaal at the dawn of the Boer renaissance, if we may so term the burst of offensive vigour which signalized the end of 1900. They are not much in evidence in the height of that outbreak, because the Boer offence took the form mainly of attacks (often by night) on fortified posts, where they were neither necessary nor feasible; but signs of increased boldness in submitting horses to rifle-fire are visible in all the fights of that period. From the middle of 1901 onwards, when combats in the open field were the rule, this tendency took shape in a definite system of tactics. Curiously enough, these tactics, on their aggressive side, were confined mainly, though not wholly, to the Transvaal. The Free Staters used the semi-aggressive or “penetrating” charge freely enough, in order to escape from drives, but rarely in direct offence. This may have been due to the influence of De Wet, who nearly always preferred stalking to rushing. From the point of view of instruction, however, both types are equally interesting. They differed only in object, not in method.

On March 22, 1901, at Geduld, in the Western Transvaal, three squadrons of the Imperial Light Horse, under Colonel Briggs, of the King’s Dragoon Guards, were engaged in a reconnaissance, when, with very little warning and to the blank astonishment of all who witnessed the scene, several hundreds of De la Rey’s Boers, under the young General Kemp, in good order, and firing from the saddle, galloped down upon the extended skirmishing line of two squadrons. Our men just had time to mount, retire to a flank, and receive the support of the third squadron, when the enemy swept over the vacated position, swerved, and disappeared. This appears to have been a sort of rehearsal for future occasions. The charge inflicted no loss, but it is also significant that it incurred no loss. It was not repeated, though the Imperial Light Horse were followed back for several miles to their camp with vehement attacks, which they repelled with great coolness and gallantry. This may be noted as an excellent example of a steady retirement under difficult circumstances (Times History, vol. v., p. 224).

Twice on later occasions, at Reitz (October, 1901) and at Tigerkloof Spruit (December 18, 1901), the Imperial Light Horse had to sustain something in the nature of real mounted charges, in the first case of a serious character. They repelled them well (Times History, vol. v., pp. 393 and 428–431).

Two months after Geduld, at Vlakfontein^[52] (May 30, 1901), operating against a column of all arms under General Dixon, Kemp used the same tactics with deadly effect, this time employing stratagem to heighten surprise. A rear-guard of 150 Yeomanry, 100 Infantry, and 2 guns, was beginning a retirement towards camp. While feinting against other portions of the columns, Kemp concentrated several hundred men against this rear-guard. The Boers, having fired the grass to windward, in order to mask their approach and bewilder their foes, burst through and rode down the Yeomanry screen, cut to pieces the company of Infantry, and the gun detachments, and took possession of the guns. No less than 150 of our men fell killed or wounded in a very short space of time, while the Boer losses were slight. There was a prompt and vigorous counter-attack by the rest of the column, which the Boers scarcely waited to receive, and the guns were recaptured. But the balance of success was with Kemp. Our column was crippled and Dixon had to retreat by a forced night march to his base.

Let us note certain points, some of general, some of local interest:

1. The Yeomanry engaged on this occasion were inexperienced troops—the Infantry and gunners, veterans.

2. The Boers, for the most part, remained in the saddle and fired from it, until they reached close quarters. The terrain, which was open and unobstructed, permitted this. After dismounting, some dropped the rein altogether, and some advanced firing, with the rein over the arm. The same plan was adopted in most of the subsequent charges.

3. There was no “shock,” nor any idea of shock in this or any other instance of the charge. The lean, undersized Boer ponies were incapable of it. Shock is incompatible with the destructive use of the rifle, and this was a massacre with the rifle, short, sharp, and murderous. Even if it had been possible for a body of steel-armed horsemen using shock formation to reach close quarters under similar circumstances—and such a thing was never done or attempted in the whole course of the war—their destructive power would not be a tithe of that possessed by mounted riflemen, and their exposure to retaliation infinitely greater. Think of the physical incidents of the two types of charge, remembering that shock requires the steel-armed horsemen to remain on horseback, bursting through the enemy at the first onset, and doing what damage they can en route, and rallying from their disarray at some more or less distant point for a second charge. Think of the opportunities for retaliation if a spark of spirit lives in the defence: and the Infantry and gunners in this case were as firm as rocks.

But, even in making this imaginary contrast—for neither South Africa nor Manchuria provides any historical contrast—beware of assuming too much. The Boers had first to drive back and overthrow an extended skirmishing screen of mounted troops. They could not have done this in dense formation. Nor could steel-armed Cavalry have done it. Beware, then, of assuming that these latter, in virtue of their hybrid character, could effect a tactical transformation in the midst of a rapid, loose action, where each second was of importance, and close up for shock at the psychological moment. This is not even practised in peace manoeuvres. It was never done in war, and never will be done in war, not so much from the purely mechanical difficulties as from the sudden and total change of spirit required. Wrangel, whom I have quoted before on this point, is right.^[53] The modern horseman cannot serve two masters so different as the rifle and the steel weapon. He must serve one faithfully or fail towards both. We profess to secure “thorough efficiency” in both, an unattainable ideal.

4. Fire from the Saddle.—This, for the most part, was unaimed or but roughly aimed, and probably did but little damage to the stationary part of the defence, though the Yeomanry, who had 60 casualties out of 150 men, must have lost appreciably in the course of their rout from more or less aimed saddle-fire. But the moral effect, in this case, and in all cases, was the best justification of the practice. Contrast the “terror” of cold steel, which has so little reality in actual war. Here was the moral effect of a really terrible weapon, materializing, before the phase of contact, in bullets which sang over or impinged among the defence, confusing aim and sighting.

In regard to the purely physical effect, note, especially for future reference, the opening for aimed or unaimed saddle-fire against horses, whether in the course of a pursuit of mounted men like the pursuit of the screen at Vlakfontein, or against groups of “held” horses in rear of a position, when a few chance bullets may cause a stampede.

5. Formation.—We have no special details as to Vlakfontein, but I infer from the narratives that the Boers charged in a very rough line with fairly wide intervals. Second and third lines were a later development. Formations, intervals, speed, points for dismounting, etc., were dictated, and always must be dictated, by local circumstances. They admit of no rigid rules.

To resume our historical survey, we find the Boers of the Eastern Transvaal charging again under Viljoen at Mooifontein (May 25, 1901), against a convoy column, very ably and steadily handled by Colonel Gallwey. Though Viljoen’s attacks failed, it is to be noted that he suffered little loss.

Then comes a long gap of four months, during which the drought of the South African winter compelled the Boers to remain for the most part on the defensive. At the end of September, 1901, with the first spring grass, Botha took the field for the raid on Natal to which I have already alluded. His first contact with British troops came at Blood River Poort (September 17), near the Natal frontier, and 100 miles from his starting-point in the Eastern Transvaal. Here by a skilful stratagem he decoyed into an exposed position^[54] a body of 300 mounted riflemen, and then, charging down on their flank in one lightning stroke, put out of action nearly 50 men, captured 3 guns, and forced a general surrender within ten minutes. Curiously enough, our own force, when the calamity happened, had just attempted something in the nature of a charge, in order to overwhelm the small Boer detachment which was acting as decoy—not a charge “home,” but a rapid ride over open ground into close range. They had just dismounted to open fire when Botha fell on them. The incident shows how useless mere audacity and dash are, unless founded on careful reconnaissance.

We paid dearly for the hesitations and delays which marked our attempts to envelop Botha on his long and perilous return journey from Natal. He had held from the first, and maintained to the last, a moral ascendency which took effect at the end of October (a fortnight after his return), in one of the most remarkable Boer successes of the guerilla war, and in one of the chief examples of the charge. This was at Bakenlaagte on October 30, 1901.^[55] At this time Colonel Benson was operating independently in the midst of the “high veld” of the Eastern Transvaal. His vigorous night raids upon laagers (alluded to in the previous chapter) had exasperated the burghers to the last degree. Long on the look-out for vengeance, they seized upon Botha’s return to make an appeal to him for co-operation. Botha, at the moment, was seventy miles away to the east. By forced marching, rapid and thoroughly screened, he appeared on the field of Bakenlaagte at exactly the right moment, bringing a reinforcement whose strength must be regarded as doubtful, but which, at the utmost, did not exceed 500.^[56] Probably the whole Boer force on the field was about 1,000. Benson’s total strength was 1,600 riflemen, of whom 650 were Infantry, and 6 guns.

The tactical and topographical conditions were closely similar to those of Vlakfontein. At 2 p.m. a rear-guard of 380 mounted riflemen (this time seasoned soldiers of the regular Mounted Infantry, Scottish Horse, etc.), a company of Infantry, and 2 guns, were retiring towards camp. Other mounted detachments and guns were still out on the flanks. The main body of Infantry were either in camp or on their way to it. The weather was wet and misty, the terrain open and undulating. While demonstrating vigorously all round the perimeter of defence, Botha ordered a charge against the rear-guard. The Boers, shouting and firing from the saddle, swept over a mile and a half of ground, overwhelming the company of Infantry, catching and capturing the rearmost, or “covering” sections of mounted riflemen, and stopped just short of the crest of an elevation, afterwards known as Gun Hill, where the guns and the remainder of the mounted riflemen had hurriedly taken post. Here the Boers flung themselves from their ponies, and engaged our men at close quarters (barely thirty yards distance) on foot. The resistance they met with was magnificent. The defending force had to be almost literally exterminated before the hill was won and the guns captured.

This action reveals in a pointed way the gulf which divides arme blanche charges from rifle charges. In the former you must charge home, at all costs, and whatever the nature of the ground. There is no place in the arme blanche scheme for an assault like that at Bakenlaagte, where the Boers, with instinctive dexterity and rapidity, converted themselves in a flash from horsemen into footmen at the right place and moment, using the dead ground at the foot of Gun Hill for the protection of their horses during the fire-fight. When the charge began I do not suppose that one of them knew under what conditions of ground it would end. The ridge was of gentle gradient and of unobstructed surface, but, supposing that it had been of a sharp gradient and encumbered with boulders, these conditions would have made but little difference to the efficacy of the foot-attack, and might very well have assisted it. To an arme blanche charge they would have been fatal. (Cf. the Dronfield incident, p. 113.) The same principle will hold good in every sort of future war, and particularly in European wars, where open, undulating plains like those of the “high veld” are extremely rare. To one opportunity for an arme blanche charge there will be a hundred for rifle charges.

An intermediate example of charging, which illustrates this point about ground, was given at the small, but sad episode of Tafel Kop in the Free State (December 20, 1901), where the crest of the hill on which our troops (90 men and 3 guns) were posted, was in fact steep, boulder-strewn, and impracticable for horses.^[57]

The Eastern Transvaalers are found charging again with damaging effect in the actions of Holland (December 19, 1901), and Bank Kop (January 4, 1902).^[58] The latter was the case of a counter-charge under circumstances very similar to those of Blood River Poort. Their last exploit of this nature was on April 1, 1902, at Boschman’s Kop, the only occasion, I think, during the guerilla war where regular Cavalry (though unequipped with steel weapons) were concerned. The regiment, 312 strong, with 40 National Scouts, in the course of a night raid, stumbled upon a concentration of about 800 Boers (I cannot guarantee the numbers, but give the maximum estimate), who had gathered together to discuss the question of peace. The surprise for the moment was complete, and the Boers scattered in all directions; but rallied later in considerable force and engaged the Cavalry, who had retired to a position about a mile away. The attack was vehement, with frequent charges into close range, which were repelled with equal gallantry. At last the Cavalry flank was turned, and our men had to retire. As long as defensible positions were available the retreat was steady and methodical, but the last few miles to camp were a dead-level plain, over which pursuers and pursued rode as hard as they could, until reinforcements and Artillery fire from the British camp checked the Boers. In the whole affair, which was galling, but not in the least discreditable to the Cavalry, they had seventy-seven casualties, and there is no question that a considerable number of men succumbed to saddle-fire during the pursuit whom no steel weapon could have reached. The complaint, it is said, was raised by some of those present that they had been crippled by the removal of their swords, and that if they had carried them the result would have been different. The regiment had only recently arrived in South Africa: otherwise the mere hint of such a complaint would make one despair of reform. During something like a year and three-quarters of war the Cavalry had had countless opportunities—if they existed—of showing the superior value of the arme blanche in first producing and then taking advantage of circumstances tactically similar to these. The point is, that it was impossible to force the Boers to accept combat on the terms required by steel. It was the rifle which settled the nature of combats. The Boers had conducted the original fire-fight in loose formation, and they pursued in loose “swarm” formation. Consider the futility of our endeavouring, at any phase, to mass into shock formation, with nothing whatever upon which to exert shock, only to present a helplessly vulnerable target. If we did not form close shock formation, we abandoned, as I have repeatedly pointed out, the whole raison d’Être of the steel weapon. Individual swordsmen, separated by wide intervals, are outmatched by capable riflemen, mounted or dismounted. It is a cruel injustice to our Cavalry to teach them otherwise.

De la Rey’s district, the Western Transvaal, may be considered as having been the true birthplace of the charge, and it was here, during the last period of the war, that it reached its highest development. At Kleinfontein^[59] (October 24, 1901) Kemp galloped down upon the centre of a column on the march, threw the convoy into confusion, and captured a dozen waggons, then whirled down upon the rear-guard, and inflicted severe loss upon it, taking temporary possession of two guns, which, for lack of teams, the burghers were unable to remove. The remnants of our men made a splendid resistance, and reinforcements eventually drove the Boers off. In this action we find the first mention of the use of successive lines of horsemen for charging.

At Yzer Spruit (February 25, 1902) De la Rey ambuscaded and captured entire a convoy-column, using the mounted charge freely at the crisis of the action; and ten days later, at the sad disaster of Tweebosch (March 7, 1902), the same General (using three successive charging lines) routed Methuen’s mounted troops, who in this case were of a very heterogeneous and unstable kind, and forced a general surrender of the column. In the stirring action of Boschbult (March 31, 1902), the defeat of part of our flank screen by a determined Boer charge caused for a short time an exceedingly critical situation. Later in the day, when Cookson’s force was concentrated and entrenched, Liebenberg led a plucky charge against some farm-buildings adequately held by riflemen. This was a daring departure from the rules governing such attacks, and Liebenberg paid for it in a sharp repulse.^[60]

But the most dramatic and interesting of the Boer charges was reserved for the last important action of the war, that of Roodewal (April 11, 1902). It failed, but the cause, manner, and results of its failure are full of instruction. I wish I had space to recount the episode in full; but I can only sketch what happened, and ask the reader to refer for a full account to chapter xix. (section iv.) of the fifth volume of the Times History.

One of our great mobile driving lines of the latest model, organized in three divisions, each about 4,000 strong, under the command of General Ian Hamilton, was sweeping on an immense front across the Western Transvaal. On the early morning of April 10, the right division, under Colonel Kekewich, about 4,000 strong and composed of two columns under Colonels Grenfell and Von Donop, was changing ground to the right (or west) in accordance with orders to widen the front of the driving line prior to the day’s operations. The columns were still in closed-up route formation, Von Donop’s leading, Grenfell’s following, with an advanced screen of 280 mounted riflemen thrown out to the front. Terrain, a level, open plain rising almost imperceptibly for about two miles to a gentle elevation on the farm-lands of Roodewal. Kemp had concentrated in the course of the night behind this elevation, and at about 7.30 a.m. was sighted, by our foremost scouts, marching parallel. Whether, when the action first began, he knew of the massed British columns, is not clear. Probably he did not. There is ground for the view that he had mistaken our advanced mounted screen for the flank of a driving line already fully deployed for the day’s drive in the manner then customary, and had resolved to roll up part of this supposed line by a flank-charge.

However this may be, he deployed and put into motion a number of men variously estimated from 1,000 to 1,500, who, in widely extended order, trotted slowly forward in two very long, arc-shaped lines. As they approached our advanced scouts, they broke into a canter, and began to fire from the saddle. Our screen and the pompom with it retired hastily upon the main body, some forty men being caught and overpowered. The crest of Roodewal once topped, the main British forces, in column of route about a mile and a half away, became visible to the Boers and the Boers to them. Grenfell executed a hurried but fairly orderly deployment to meet the attack, which was directed mainly against his column. The South African Constabulary, Scottish Horse and Yeomanry—about 1,200 mounted men in all—were thrown out in a rough defensive line. Von Donop was slower in deployment, but had to meet only the northerly part of the Boer line, which split off and attempted a wider and more normal and deliberate attack. The centre and right—estimated roughly at 800 men—closed in, corrected the convexity of their line with wonderful precision, and with the brave Commandant Potgieter at their head, charged straight upon Grenfell. In an episode lasting so few minutes, and crammed with such breathless excitement, it is impossible to ascertain relative strength, positions, and formations with positive accuracy; but it may be taken as fairly correct to say that when the charge reached a point 600 yards from the British front, it was exposed to the fire of some 1,500 rifles and 6 guns, and that the Boer formation—at any rate, in portions of the line—was now very close—some say almost solid, or “knee to knee”—and from two to four deep. The pace at this stage, we infer, was the best the small Boer ponies could ever attain to, and that amounted to little more than the canter of a Cavalry horse. The plain would not have sheltered a mouse, and it was a clear day with a bright sun. Under these conditions it would have been strange if the charge had not been checked, high and wild as much of our fire was. It faltered appreciably within 300 yards, and stumbled on in fragments to within 100 yards. Potgieter was shot dead only 70 yards from our line.

The significant thing was not the failure of this piece of brilliant recklessness, but that it came so near success, and met with so little punishment. The Boers retired without disorder, carrying some of their wounded with them, and leaving on the field fifty dead and thirty badly wounded men. Our own losses, besides prisoners taken from the advanced screen, were seven killed and fifty-six wounded, mainly by fire from the saddle, and from those figures the reader may judge of the moral effect of this form of fire, coupled with the spectacle of the charge, in baulking the aim of the defence. It is safe to say that one casualty inflicted in this way has as much moral effect as three inflicted by men on foot. But in the physical sphere there was another important effect of saddle-fire. Grenfell’s column lost, partly from this cause, no less than 150 horses. Many more stampeded. In other words, the column for the time being was demobilized, and deprived of any possibility of a counter-stroke, though a more fruitful opportunity for a counter-stroke can scarcely be imagined.^[61] The weak points in this charge are apparent. The cardinal factor—surprise—high as it was, was not high enough to counteract the vulnerability due to comparatively low speed, in good light, over a bare plain; and the excessively close formation aggravated this vulnerability. Formation, of course, admits of no dogmatic rules. There is no insuperable objection to a dense line, if the surprise is great enough to justify it, and if, when close quarters are reached, the line is not so dense as to strike too small an area or impede that free use of the rifle on foot which is the object of the charge.

It is never easy to picture an arme blanche charge in direct analogy to any given rifle charge, because the arme blanche never creates for itself the opportunities which the rifle creates; but so far as we can picture an analogy at Roodewal, the advantage is overwhelmingly on the side of the rifle. Saddle-fire, with its power of demobilizing the defence long before contact, is a decisive advantage. But would an arme blanche charge ever have taken place? It is very doubtful. “Cavalry Training” appears to make provision for a charge over a distance as great as 1,800 yards, but that is for a shock charge against “Cavalry,” who are assumed to be in their saddles (pp. 125–128). What of a charge against Infantry? In the ten lines devoted to that subject (p. 129) there is a very natural silence on this and many other points. But were these men of Grenfell’s to be regarded as Cavalry or Infantry? They had horses, deployed with them and dismounted from them. Suppose them Cavalry (in the Cavalry sense) who at the last moment declined to engage in the conventional “shock duel,” and, having brought the charge to a standstill by rifle-fire, and having retained their full mobility owing to the absence of hostile saddle-fire, retaliated with a counter-stroke? But that is not the only perplexity. How were the leaders of the shock charge to know in advance which course the defending troops would take? They must decide before starting, for there is no provision in “Cavalry Training” for changing while in rapid movement from dense shock formation to the “extended formation” recommended for a charge upon “Infantry.” If a charge is not a steel-charge they are bound by the rules of “Dismounted Action,” under which heading, of course, this rifle charge of the Boers would have to be included. One of these rules is that extra ammunition is to be served out when such action is contemplated. Another point: Whichever formation, dense or extended, was adopted at the outset, Grenfell’s advanced scouting screen, whose inrush was accountable for a good deal of wild firing in the defence, would have had little to fear against horsemen using only a steel weapon. They had only to transform themselves into “Infantry,” and let the storm blow over. Acting as skilfully as the Boers at Poplar Grove and many other actions, they would have stopped the charge altogether. For the rest, whatever the weapon relied on in the charge, the vulnerability of the surface exposed was the same and the chance of obtaining contact, judged on a purely physical estimate, no better or worse. On possibilities after hypothetical contact I need scarcely again enlarge. There would have been nothing in the firing-line on which to exert true shock, and palpably men who are doomed to stay in the saddle and execute complicated and difficult “rallies” are worse off than riflemen on foot. The latter, taught not to fear cold steel, and acting as directed in “Infantry Training,” are in the superior position. My argument is not academical. It is based on the living facts of modern war.

Such were the principal examples on the Boer side of the mounted charge. But they do not exhaust the list. There were numerous cases—in the Free State especially (as I remarked above)—of charges for the purpose of piercing driving lines or block-house lines, interesting, if only for the light they throw on the effect of fire upon horsemen in rapid movement. Nor must it ever be forgotten that, in the parlance of mounted riflemen, the “charge” is only a relative term, which does not necessarily imply contact. The more rapid the tactical approach, by a more daring use of the horse, the greater the approximation to the fully developed charge.

These incidents have received far too little attention. Cavalry writers have generally ignored them, or alluded to them in terms of indifference, as curious phenomena in a class of war which scarcely concerns Cavalry. Mr. Goldman, in the 1909 edition of his translation of Von Bernhardi’s “Cavalry in Future Wars,” in the course of a gentle rebuke to his author for venturing to admire these charges, disposes of them in a footnote as the work of mere “Mounted Infantry,” and reveals his imperfect acquaintance with the facts by speaking of the “one or two occasions” on which Boers “brought about a decision by rifle-fire from their horses” (p. 56). He adds, with unconscious irony, that “he can recall no instance where they actually charged—i.e., endeavoured to decide the action by shock.” Those few words, embodied in their complacent little footnote, supply a complete revelation of the mental attitude of the arme blanche advocates towards the tactics of mounted riflemen. Names are everything, results nothing. Attach the label, “Mounted Infantry,” and that disposes of the charges, Boer and British, such as they were, and, since they did not involve “shock,” what were they, after all? It is true that throughout the whole war there was not one solitary instance of “shock” in Mr. Goldman’s implied (and, in this single case, perfectly correct) interpretation of that term. But what matter? In his view, the Boers never gave the Cavalry a chance of “discharging Cavalry duties.” Was I wrong in suggesting that the arme blanche theory dwells in a mental shrine, sacrosanct, unapproachable by argument?

Of a diametrically opposite character, and no less harmful than this contemptuous indifference, is the idea—often enough expressed by those who have never studied them—that these charges were non-military exploits, comparable only to the onslaughts of wild dervishes, a blend of fanaticism and luck, and no model for sensible, serious soldiers. In spite of the fact that saddle-fire is officially enjoined at this moment for “picked men” of the Mounted Infantry, I have heard it spoken of as though it were on a par with the beating of tom-toms, the throwing of stones or poisoned arrows and such unsoldierly pranks. For ignorance of this sort no condemnation can be too strong. Even fanatics may teach us lessons. But the Boers were no more fanatics than the American troopers of Forrest and Morgan. They were shrewd, sober, white men, valuing their lives, parsimonious of their ammunition, for fresh supplies of which during the guerilla war they had no domestic resources, and by no means inclined to extravagance or foolhardiness. Their charges demanded not only dash, but high tactical discipline, a sure instinct for ground and skilled preparatory scouting. Fire from the saddle requires good horsemanship and great manual skill. If these be symptoms of fanaticism, the more fanatics we have in our army, the better.

And what were the results of these charges upon the progress of the war? Whether for their tactical lessons we dismiss them in footnotes or study them seriously, let us remember that they, like other aggressive Boer exploits, cost us many lives, many guns, many prisoners, and an amount of treasure at which we can only dimly conjecture—probably scores of millions of pounds.^[62] Sannah’s Post in March, 1900, changed the whole outlook of the Free Staters. To Vlakfontein, coupled with the night attack at Wilmansrust, can be definitely traced the decision of the joint Council of War (held on June 20, 1901), to continue hostilities throughout the winter of that year. But for Bakenlaagte, the Transvaalers, always the most inclined to peace, might have forced their will on the sister state, while De la Rey’s successes in the early months of 1902 imperilled gravely the hopes of peace. Had the Roodewal charge, made during the progress of negotiations, succeeded, there might well have been a delay of several more months.

We on our side never succeeded in carrying the charging principle to the point to which the Boer veterans carried it. Saddle-fire was not, I think, in any instance practised. But in aggressive tactical vigour all our mounted men made remarkable strides during the guerilla war, in spite of the somewhat deadening effect of the driving system. The rifle was the inspiration. There was only one instance of an arme blanche charge during that period of the guerilla war in which the Cavalry carried steel weapons. This was at Welgevonden (February 12, 1901), in the course of French’s great drive in the Eastern Transvaal, when Colonel Rimington’s Inniskilling Dragoons got home among a Boer rear-guard, and disposed of some twenty Boers by death, wounds, or capture.^[63] With this exception, every success we obtained was due to the dashing use of horse and rifle in combination. I have already mentioned the cases of Victoria Nek and Bothaville. Wildfontein (March 24, 1901) was an excellent example of an energetic galloping pursuit, leading to the capture of guns, waggons, and a good many Boers. Roodekraal (February 3, 1902) led to similar results, and was distinguished by several genuine mounted charges of the Boer type, in which New Zealanders and Queenslanders, under Colonel Garratt, took part.^[64] The systematized night-raids described in the previous chapter generally ended in something of the nature of a charge, in widely extended order, upon the Boer laager. Other small raids, pursuits and encounters, in which our men learnt to ride more boldly into rifle-range, were innumerable.

As I have often pointed out, this bold riding into a fire-zone is the principle which lies at the back of the charge. It is a question of tactical mobility, pure and simple. How far the ride can be carried rests on local circumstances, on the degree of surprise, on the nature of the ground to be traversed, on the quality of the enemy’s troops, on their tactical disposition, and on the character of their defences, if any. But the whole scheme of offensive tactics is one; the object, however attained, is always the same—to use the horse as the means of closing with the enemy as effectively as possible and as quickly as possible. Infantry, without the horse, pursue the same object. They move more slowly, but present less vulnerable surface. The horseman’s problem is to neutralize greater vulnerability by greater speed and a larger measure of surprise. If we review the war as a whole, we cannot escape the conclusion that until the last year of hostilities the vulnerability of horses in rapid movement was exaggerated by both sides, and the effect produced upon the sighting, aim, fire-discipline, and equanimity of the defence underestimated. In our own case the error was aggravated by the fact that we came to the field possessing the tradition of a mounted charge, but in an obsolete form, inspired by the wrong weapon, and incapable of being associated with the right weapon—the rifle. This tradition was destroyed, and never adequately replaced. Outside the charmed circle of the Cavalry it was often too readily assumed that a principle had been discredited, not merely the false application of a right principle. Inside the Cavalry, whatever the various impressions of the time, the net official result now is to regard the tradition of shock as intact, and its failure in South Africa as a negligible incident of an “abnormal” war. The Boers started the war with no tradition, with a strong prejudice, indeed, against the exposure of the horse and an exaggerated reliance on the spade for passive defence and on stalking for offence. Their discipline, moreover, was not good enough for a form of tactics requiring exceptional discipline. Circumstances, moral and military, drove them to develop tactical discipline, and with it a charging tradition, and they attained it in a perfectly healthy, normal way. Our mounted men, Cavalry included, in so far as they approached the Boer standard, worked on the same lines of natural evolution.

Perhaps I ought to say one word more in regard to one of the strangest of the many paradoxical arguments which the defence of the arme blanche has evoked. I mean the complaint which I commented on À propos of Boschman’s Kop—that the Cavalry were deprived of steel weapons just when the Boers were developing the charge, the assumption being, presumably, that but for this modification of armament the Cavalry would then for the first time have developed equally effective, if not more effective, arme blanche charging tactics of their own. I have never seen this view put forward in general terms by any high Cavalry authority, or, indeed, by any Cavalryman; but it figures among the nebulous popular arguments upon which the arme blanche thrives, and it sometimes finds accidental public expression. In July, 1909, an anonymous correspondent of the Times propounded it as a final and crushing answer to those who ventured to see something instructive and important in the Boer charges. Now, in the first place, the view is in conflict with the facts. The Boers began to charge long before the steel weapons were discarded. They charged at Sannah’s Post as early as March, 1900, and within view of the Cavalry engaged in that action. They charged mounted riflemen and attacked Cavalry with great pertinacity in the Eastern Transvaal during October, 1900; and although no body of Cavalry was, so far as I know, itself charged on horseback by Boers during the year 1901, the steel weapon outlived the period of Vlakfontein, and had not, I think, been more than partly abolished at the period of Bakenlaagte. But dates are not material. The discouraging feature of the argument is its total failure to grasp the real nature and origin of the rifle charge, the elementary physical and moral principles which distinguish it in tactical form, and, above all, in tactical spirit, from the shock charge. And behind it, I am afraid, we recognize an echo of Mr. Goldman’s complaint that the Boers, owing to fear of the steel, declined to “give battle” with Cavalry on “open ground.” I cannot pause now to discuss that.^[65]

We need not exaggerate, as assuredly we must not minimize, the importance of the mounted charges in South Africa. We must allow for the fact that the Boers for the most part were veterans in the mounted rifleman’s art, and that the men against whom they were matched never reached the same degree of excellence. What we should do is to grasp the principle, and apply it to the training of our mounted troops, especially to our professional troops, who are competent to learn anything to which they apply their minds and wills. Shock, at any rate, is gone. South Africa gave it its death-blow, and Manchuria, as I shall show later, buried it for ever. The rifle charge, whether on foot, mounted, or in any intermediate stage up to direct riding into contact, remains as a proved, tangible fact. Since 1870 and up to the present day (1910) shock has been pure theory.