that a terrible revenge must follow. It is true that some of the extreme Radical papers affected to sneer, and accused the Government of having begun their reign by blood-shedding. But these papers chose to forget that the preceding Government had shed more blood uselessly than any Government during the century, and that the Transvaal shame and difficulty was a legacy they themselves had left to their successors.
A Cabinet Council was instantly summoned, and it was at once decided to despatch with all possible speed an additional force of 15,000 men, which was to include 3,000 cavalry. This force was got ready with marvellous celerity; and so urgent was the matter considered to be, that two of Her Majesty's Indian troop-ships, namely the Serapis and the Crocodile, were pressed into the service.
In the meantime, some modification of the first report arrived, and it was found that the disaster was not so bad as originally represented, though bad enough in all conscience, since the British arms had suffered a very crushing defeat. It may be imagined that the country waited in breathless suspense for the news of the arrival of the reinforcements, and what a relief it was when the intelligence was wired that a battle had been fought,—that the Boers had been worsted, and were in full retreat. There was great rejoicing at this news, and people began to hope that the Transvaal difficulty would at last be settled.
With the vigour and expedition so characteristic of him, Lord Wolseley followed up his success, and, by a strange coincidence, a coincidence that was the very irony of fate, the Boers made a stand at Majuba Hill. Perhaps some superstitious feeling led them to that blood-stained spot, where they had gained their memorable victory over the ill-starred Sir George Colley. Probably they thought that their former good-fortune would return to them if they once more fought under the shadow of the hill where they had defied and defeated the British power on a former occasion. But, if they did so think, they ought also to have remembered that Majuba was indissolubly associated with a British disgrace,—that British blood had been poured out there, and cried aloud for vengeance.
The English army soon came up with the Dutchmen, who
