he south of Colenso. On November 15th an armoured train was
despatched from Estcourt to see what was going on up the line. Already
one disaster had befallen us in this campaign on account of these clumsy
contrivances, and a heavier one was now to confirm the opinion that,
acting alone, they are totally inadmissible. As a means of carrying
artillery for a force operating upon either flank of them, with an
assured retreat behind, there may be a place for them in modern war, but
as a method of scouting they appear to be the most inefficient and also
the most expensive that has ever been invented. An intelligent horseman
would gather more information, be less visible, and retain some freedom
as to route. After our experience the armoured train may steam out of
military history.

The train contained ninety Dublin Fusiliers, eighty Durban Volunteers,
and ten sailors, with a naval 7-pounder gun. Captain Haldane of the
Gordons, Lieutenant Frankland (Dublin Fusiliers), and Winston Churchill,
the well-known correspondent, accompanied the expedition. What might
have been foreseen occurred. The train steamed into the advancing Boer
army, was fired upon, tried to escape, found the rails blocked behind
it, and upset. Dublins and Durbans were shot helplessly out of their
trucks, under a heavy fire. A railway accident is a nervous thing, and
so is an ambuscade, but the combination of the two must be appalling.
Yet there were brave hearts which rose to the occasion. Haldane and
Frankland rallied the troops, and Churchill the engine-driver. The
engine was disentangled and sent on with its cab full of wounded.
Churchill, who had escaped upon it, came gallantly back to share the
fate of his comrades. The dazed shaken soldiers continued a futile
resistance for some time, but there was neither help nor escape and
nothing for them but surrender. The most Spartan military critic cannot
blame them. A few slipped away besides those who escaped upon the
engine. Our losses were two killed, twenty wounded, and about eighty
taken. It is remarkable that of the three leaders both Haldane and
Churchill succeeded in escaping from Pretoria.

A double tide of armed men was now pouring into Southern Natal. From
below, trainload after trainload of British regulars were coming up to
the danger point, feted and cheered at every station. Lonely farmhouses
near the line hung out their Union Jacks, and the folk on the stoep
heard the roar of the choruses as the