ves were praying men.

[Sidenote: _A Parson Prisoner in the hands of the Boers._]

Nearly four months after the Stormberg tragedy, but only four days
after that at Sanna's Post, Mr Burgess found himself, with three
companies of the Irish Rifles and two of the Northumberland Fusiliers,
cooped up on a kopje about three miles long not far from Reddersburg.
With no water within reach, with no guns, and an almost exhausted
store of rifle ammunition, this small detachment found itself indeed
in evil plight when De Wet's commando of 3200 men put a girdle of
rifle barrels around it, and then began a merciless cannonade with
five guns. That cannonade indeed was merciless far beyond what the
rules of modern war permit, for it seemed to be directed, if not
mainly, certainly most effectually, on the ambulances and hospital
tents, over which the Red Cross flag floated in vain. In the vivid
description of the fight which Mr Burgess sent to me, he says that
several of the ambulance mules were killed or badly wounded, and it
was a marvel only one of the ambulance men was hit, for in one of
their tents were four bullet holes, and a similar number in the Red
Cross flag itself. Some of the occupants of the hospital were Boer
prisoners, some were defenceless natives, so all set to work to throw
up trenches for the protection of these non-combatants, and among the
diggers and delvers was the Wesleyan chaplain with coat thrown off,
and plying pick like one to the manner born. To that task he stuck
till midnight, and oh, that I had been there to see! A chaplain thus
turning himself into a navvy is probably no breach of the Geneva
Convention, but all the same it is by no means an everyday occurrence;
and those Boer prisoners would think none the worse of that Wesleyan
predikant's prayers after watching the work, on their behalf, of that
predikant's pick.

The defence of Reddersburg was one of the least heroic in the whole
record of the campaign, and the troops early next morning surrendered,
not to resistless skill or rifle fire on the part of the Boers, but to
the cravings of overmastering thirst. A relieving force was close at
hand when they ran up the horrid white flag, and had they been aware
of that fact we may be sure no surrender would have taken place. It
requires scant genius to be wise after the event, and still scantier
courage to denounce as lacking in courage this surrender of 500 to a
force six times as large. That was on Apri