But the day was won.  The position was cleared.  That charge finished the business.  The credit for the whole defence against one of the bravest attacks ever made rests with the Light Horse, the Gordons, and the Devons.  Yet it is impossible to forget the unflinching self-devotion of the King’s Royal Rifle officers.  They suffered terribly, and the worst is they suffered almost in vain.  At one moment, when the defenders had been driven back over the summit’s edge, Major Mackworth (of the Queen’s, but attached to the King’s Royal Rifles) went up again, calling on the men to follow him.  Just with his walking-stick in his hand he went up, and with the few brave men who followed him he died.

The attack on the main position of Caesar’s Camp was much the same in plan and result.  At 3 a.m. the Manchester pickets along the extremity’s left edge (i.e., north-east) were surprised by the appearance of Boers in their very midst.  Lieutenant Hunt-Grubbe, who was visiting the pickets, mistook them for volunteers.  “Hullo!  Boers!” he cried out.  They laughed and answered, “Yes, burghers!” He was a prisoner in their hands for some hours.  The whole of one section was shot dead at their post.  The alarm was given, but the outlying sentries and piquets could not move from the little shelters and walls which alone protected them from the oblique fire from an unknown direction.  Many were shot down.  Some remained hidden at the bottom of their defence pits till late in the afternoon without being able to stir.  Creeping up the dead ground on the cliffs face, which is covered with rocks and thick bushes, the Boers lined the left edge of the summit in great numbers.  Probably about 1,000 attacked that part alone, and about 200 advanced on to the top.  They were all Transvaal Boers, chiefly volunteers from the commandoes of Heidelburg and Wakkerstroom.  This main body was attempting to take our left (north) side of the hill in flank, and kept edging through the thorns and dongas near the foot.  The Natal Police, supported by the Natal Mounted Rifles, had been set to prevent such a movement, but had left a gap of 500 yards between their right and three companies of Gordons stationed in front of “Fly” kraal on that side of the hill.  At last, observing the enemy in a donga, they challenged, and were met by the answer, “For God’s sake, don’t fire; we’re the Town Guard.”  At once they were undeceived by a volley which killed one of them and wounded a few others.  How far they avenged this act of treachery I have not discovered.  The Boers flanking movement was only checked by the 53rd Battery (Major Abdy), which was posted on the flat across the river from the show ground, and did splendid service all day.  It shelled the side and top of the hill almost incessantly, though the big Bulwan gun kept pouring shrapnel and common shell right in front of it, making all the veldt look like a ploughed field.