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1900 - From the diary of Major George Tatham, Natal Carbineers

91st day of our Siege. Visited outposts with Commandant Royston. Letter came in from Chievely, no news of Buller Long Tom fired a few more shots this afternoon, evidently a new man at the gun as shooting is very inferior. Rain fell 27th to 30th - 5 1/8 inches.

1899 - Diary of the siege of Mafeking by Edward Ross

Wednesday, 31 January

About 7.30 the Boers opened fire on the town with our old friend the 1-lb Maxim. This gun has not been fired for the past 12 or 14 days and was supposed to have gone north. But now with that and the quick-firer going it is supposed the commando has returned bringing reinforcements of men and guns and we are to expect a very hot time.

7 a.m. Our detachment of the Royal Ox Artillery is having a good time of it this morning; she is going strong and blazing away like a quick-firer. If she could only land one of her solid balls on to Big Ben what a treat it would be. The enemy are trying to get her range with their 1-pound Maxim, but being behind cover they cannot silence her.

Big Ben sent right over left of town going to Cannon Kopje, their 9pounder quick-firer also shelling the same spot but not making good practice, one or two shots reaching the mark, but the rest either over or wide. Watching very plainly from Dixon’s garden gate.

An ominous calm prevailed all latter part of morning and early part of afternoon, until about 5 p.m. in the afternoon when our seven-pounders, Lord Nelson, and Nordenfeldt opened fire on the enemy’s trenches, and a regular artillery duel was carried on, rather one-sided in weight of material which was more than counterbalanced by the pluck of our fellows. Our seven-pounders used only the shells made at the Mafeking Arsenal, dropping shell after shell right into their trenches, and must have given them a warm time. Old Big Ben solemnly and regularly replied, sending in her immense projectiles with great precision, one of her shells landing about 15 yards in front of one of our seven-pounders, but with all our usual luck the confounded thing did not explode but ricocheted right over the heads of the gunners and Major Panzera, who was there in command. The enemy’s quick-firing 9-pounder was also on the job, and made some fairly good shooting, but with no casualties to us or any very great material damage. 

B.P. was at his usual place on the roof issuing his commands, and being close to the foot of his ladder I was quietly taking in all his observations and could tell exactly what was happening all round. Suddenly turning his glasses on Big Ben, whom we are all bound to respect, he shouted out, "Look out, she is pointing straight for us,” so we all quickly did a bunk for our respective covers, B.P. coming down with his usual nonchalance but speedily.

The Boers made a very good hot shot with their one-pound Maxim today, scoring a straight goal on the football ground. Our referee considered it rather off side, but has promised to extend the time limit so as to enable us to get ahead at the finish.

It turns out that the man Currie shot at the brickfields yesterday is one of the Boers’ crack shots, old grey-beard, pling-plong, who has harassed and worried us with his shooting almost from the commencement, and has sent his whistling bullets very much too close to be nice, many a score of times.

Am very sorry to say the natives in the stadt are having a very hard time of it. The scarcity of food amongst them, coupled with the bad water they are using, is causing dysentery and other diseases amongst them, and carrying off large numbers. They even now come with their sixpences and tickeys all over the town trying to buy peaches, however green they may be, on purpose to get a square feed. This alone I should think is sufficient to feed the microbe of dysentery almost to the extent of its becoming a pestilence.

Today a large swarm of locusts passed over the native village and our township; if they will only settle close, they would be quite a godsend for the natives who even in ordinary times dry them and eat them with evident relish.

At 7 o’clock this evening I had just come over from my work at Dixon’s and was talking to Tom in the back yard, when suddenly and with hardly any warning, Big Ben with a most terrific roar struck just at the back of our yard, ricocheted and went to Hades covering us with a big cloud of dust, falling stones, gravel, etc., etc. If it had burst, well - this would not have been written, that’s all. They seem to have been following me, for almost immediately afterwards, Tom and I went over to Dixon’s and just after we had crossed the square a 5-pounder whistled away over us, landing a long way off somewhere to the northward. Nor was this all, for about 10 minutes afterwards and just as we were trying to get a drink, Big Ben again 

came with a terrific deafening roar, and crashed seemingly right into the building. It made us all skip and scurry like a lot of ants after the overturning of an ant-heap. When a few seconds afterwards wits were again gathered, the shell was found to have struck right into the middle of the road at the side of the hotel, there bursting and sending its fragments ail over us. A poor chap named Jones, late steward of the club, was passing down the street at the time, when a piece struck him on the side of the head, carrying away the whole side of his skull. Surgeon-Major Dowling was luckily on the spot, but the only assistance he could render was the kindly act of an injection of morphine. The poor fellow could not have had the slightest knowledge or feeling of what had happened, nor was there the slightest possibility of his recovering even consciousness.

Another piece of the same shell struck the chimney of the sitting-room, now the C.S.O. Lord Cecil’s office, knocking it to smithereens and falling down into the room, filling the room with dust and the stench of millenite. His Lordship was sitting there and on my running down to the door to see if anybody was hurt, he very coolly turned round saying he should lodge an objection, as it was not fair, he said, to shell him down the chimney. He was very much upset nevertheless, and came up to the bar to steady his nerves. I cannot describe the noise of the bursting shell, seemingly right in our midst, but it sounded as if the bowels of the earth had split assunder and the last day had arrived. Say, Mr. Snyman, kindly tell your gunners to be a little more careful, their shells are coming a little too close.