Private William Edgar Marshall Donnell
Number: 9386
Company: 46th (Belfast) Company, 13th Battalion, First Contingent
ENLISTMENT
Date: 30 January 1900
Place: Belfast
Age: 22 years (born 13 December 1877 at 5 Carlisle Road, Londonderry)
Trade or calling: Clerk
Place of birth: In the Parish of Londonderry, in or near the Town of Londonderry, in the County of Londonderry
Address: Victoria Park, Londonderry
Family: Father William Donnell, coal merchant, of Victoria Park, Londonderry. Mother Louisa Augusta Donnell (nee Marshall) (dec.)
Previous military service: No
Description: Height 5' 7 1/4". Complexion pale, eyes brown, hair brown.
Religion: Church of England
ACTIVE SERVICE
Date to South Africa: 3 March 1900
Date home: 8 June 1901
Service medal, clasps and other awards: Queen's South Africa Medal. Cape Colony, Orange Free State, 1901 clasps.
DISCHARGE
Date: 15 June 1901
Place: Belfast
Reason for discharge: The termination of his engagement
Intended place of residence: Victoria Park, Londonderry
Conduct: Very good
Special qualifications: Good horseman and groom
The image above, from the Belfast Evening Telegraph of 13 April 1900, was accompanied by the following article:
Trooper Donnell was among the first batch of volunteers from the Maiden City. He was an enthusiastic athlete, and was a prominent member of the City of Derry Boating Club. He is connected with the Y.M.C.A. Gymnasium Club, and in all these pastimes he was ever willing to promote the interests of whatever club or organisation with which he was connected. With his clubmates he was most popular, while with the young men of the city generally he was a great favourite. We learn that to company to which he is attached has arrived at Capetown.
Donnell was among the 400 men captured by Boer forces at Lindley in May 1900. He was released on 30 August with the other members of the 13th Battalion when the British captured Nooitgedacht. He was mentioned in a letter home by Lance Corporal Ben Johnston.
On 1 November 1900 the Londonderry Sentinel published the following article under the headline 'An imprisoned Derry Yeoman. Reminiscences of Lindley and Nooitgedacht.', which comprises a lengthy letter home from Donnell:
Trooper Marshall Donnell, 46th Company 13th Battalion Imperial Yeomanry, writing home to a gentleman in Londonderry, gives a graphic description of the fight at Lindley and the captured Yeoman's experiences at Nooitgedacht. The letter is dated Kroonstad, 12th September, and he says:--
DEAR MR. M--- I haven't been able to write for a long time now, as I'm afraid the things we should like to have said would not have been passed by the Boer Censor, but now that we are back again in British hands I'll just send you a little account of what we have been through.
After leaving Bleomfontein we spent a couple of days in the train, and arrived at Kroonstad. The morning after our arrival (for we arrived on the evening of the second day) we mounted our horses and started off up country. At that time we did not know where we were going, but we know now that we were going to join General Colville's column at Lindley. Well, after marching three days and two nights we arrived at Lindley on Sunday evening. Our company happened to be the rearguard that day. The other companies reached the town first, and were barely in the town before the Boers opened fire on them from the houses. Our chaps returned the fire for a short time, and then retired back on the convoy. It was almost dark now. The colonel ordered us to take up a position on two kopjes about a quarter of a mile from the main road running into the town. After getting our horses strung together and a guard over them we were turned out to carry ammunition from a d[amne]d wagon which stuck in a little stream at the foot of one of the kopjes. It was awfully hard work, as the kopjes were covered with stones, and in the dark one went tripping and falling every minute, so you may guess it didn't put us in very good spirits, especially as we had started that morning at daybreak, and for breakfast had only one biscuit and a drop of coffee, so we were very tired and hungry when we at last got settled on the kopjes. Then we got a tin of bully beef and a few biscuits (about two to each man), and after getting them stowed away we turned in to have a much wanted sleep.
Next morning while we were knocking about looking for something to eat the bullets commenced to fly. At first I had no idea they were bullets. All you heard was a little "biz" going somewhere near you, but very shortly afterwards, when we heard that Sir John Power had been dangerously wounded while looking after the horses a little further up the kopje, we commenced to realise the danger, and got under any cover we could as quickly as possible. Soon after this about sixty of us were ordered out to another little kopje about three or four hundred yards away from the main kopje, and ther we lay under a very heavy fire all day with no protection but an ant-hill. Ernest Adair and myself got together (I happened to lose Joe Allen in the hurry of advancing to the kopje) just behind a little ridge of rock which didn't hide half of our bodies, and we hadn't been lying half a minute until the fire began, and all day long it continued without a stop, the bullets bizzing about everywhere. Just after sunset we retired to the next kopje, and the 46th took up their position, and immediately commenced making trenches the best way we could with bayonets and piling up stones in front as a breastwork. Next morning shortly after sunrise the fire commenced again, but we felt much safer in our trenches, and I think gave the Boers as hot a fire as they wished for. That evening after dark we continued to strengthen our position as much as possible by piling up more stones and deepening our trenches. The next day passed much the same, except that bout twelve o'clock noon Mr. Montgomery and sixteen men went out to strengthen a kopje held by the 45th Company, and while advancing the Boers attacked them, and after shooting four dead the others had to surrender, and we saw them in the distance being marched off by the Boers.
The next day commenced, as usual, by a heavy rifle fire, but about an hour afterwards they commenced throwing shells from three guns, at the same time advancing under the cover of them. All round the rifle fire was awfully heavy, and presently one of the outlying kopjes held by the D.C.O.'s surrendered. The other kopjes held out an hour or two longer, but the Boers, who were in great numbers, were fast closing in on us. Lord Longford had to retire from his kopje (and he did it splendidly), and shortly afterwards we all had to surrender.
Immediately after the white flag went up our kopje was simply alive with Boers, and we had to throw down our arms. The first thing most of us thought of, I think, was where we should get something to eat, as during the four days we had nothing except a small piece of boiled mutton each day at about four o'clock p.m., and about two table spoonfuls of coffee morning and evening. By jove we were awfully weak! I never should have thought that I could have stood such starvation, but nobody grumbled as we knew it was impossible to get "grub." However, we were not long in getting to the main kopje, and breaking open boxes of biscuits and officers' rations, and eating awya as hard as anything, and bagging as much as we could for future use.
We were then marched through Lindley, and halted about one mile on the other side of the town. Here we camped for the night. Next morning we were up at sunrise, and we hadn't gone more than three or four miles when we heard shots fired behind us in the direction of Lindley. Everyone of us thought it was our relief, and we walked very slowly, but presently the firing ceased, and we heard nothing more.
Well, there is very little to be told of our march after that. Day after day it was much the same thing, getting up at sunrise, cooking your own breakfast, then trudging along a dusty road after ox wagons on which our kits were piled, and halting again about twelve or one p.m. and cooking dinner, and then halting again at sunset, and cooking tea and rolling yourself up in a couple of blankets and sleeping till next day. Of course there are a lot of little incidents I could tell you, but it would take a long time, and you'll have to wait until I get home (which I hope won't be long). Well, we "trekked" from Lindley to Reitz, Reitz to Vrede, Vrede to Standerton, Standerton to Ermelo, Ermelo to Carolina, Carolina to Machadadorp, and ther we took a train to Nooitgedacht.
We arrived at Nooitgedacht at about eight o'clock p.m., quite dark, and were led down to the "enclosure," and each man was searched, and then passed through the gate, where we were met by a great crowd of "admiring" prisoners, and, of course, questions were showered on us -- "Where were you caught?" "How long ago?" "Where's Buller, Roberts," &c. ? But, of course, we knew nothing, as we had been trekking along the road for a month, and you can't get any reliable news from Boer sources. We soon had something to eat, and turned in for the night; and next morning we found we were in a piece of ground about 400 yards long by 200 yards broad, with absolutely no grass on it. We had to shift for ourselves. Our mess was Joe Allen, Ernest Adair, a chap called Moncrief, and myself. Adair was luck enough to get a piece of timber from the Boer corporal, and we built up a sod wall, about 2ft. 6in. high, on each side, and the wall at the back was about 3ft. high. Then we sawed up the piece of timber, and fastened it with wire to four posts; and then stretched a waterproof sheet and a blanket over it. In this "mansion" we lived for two months; but I forgot to say that we took in a lodger in the person of Austin Hall. Of course, you had to crawl in and out of our hall-door. Our kitchen (strange to say) was outside, in front of the house. There we had an oven and a range, both made with clay.
We were all expert cooks, and took it in turns to cook. Our meals were as follows:-- For breakfast, rice; dinner, some coffee and soda bread (which we had to bake); tea, mealie porridge. We just got coffee beans, which we had to roast and grind with stones. Our supply of sugar was very limited, about 1lb. per amn per week; and during the two months we were prisoners we only got about 3ibs. of meat per man. You may guess the state we were in, never getting anything solid to eat except the bread we baked, and, as we only got 2lbs. of flour per man per week, the bread was not a very large quantity. As I said before, we were all expert bakers, and just tell mother that she will need to look to her laurels as a baker when I get home again.
If we had had any money we might have lived better, but the stores were awfully dear.
Of course while we were there prisoners were coming in almost every day in twos or threes, mostly fellows caught on outpost duty; and you should have seen the crowds that used to collect to question the chaps about the British forces -- where they were, and what they were doing, and when did they think we would be relieved. Some brought good news and others brought bad.
Well, as they used to say in the story books, "there came a time" when we heard guns in the distance, and day by day they kept getting nearer. The Boers kept telling us that it was only their big guns range-finding, but soon the Boers themselves commenced "trekking" past us in wagons, and we knew that the British were hunting them out. They told us that we should be removed to British lines next day. At first we thought it was only a fairy tale to get us to turn out quietly, so that they could take us somewhere else. Some of the officers disguised themselves and stayed with the men, but the most of them were caught and sent off to Barberton. Then as they couldn't get all the officers they took some of the D.C.O.'s, because, as the Boers said, they (viz., the D.C.O.'s) could afford to pay for their own "grub."
Next morning we were told to get ready for the road, and you can't imagine anything like the scene that followed. All the huts were pulled down, and the wood was chucked on the fire, and anything that you didn't want that would burn at all was chucked in too, so that presently the whole camp seemed to be in flames. The Boers themselves outside the railings caught the "burning" fever and commenced to burn ox wagons and everything else. Then they opened the gate and let the crowd out. We were away at the other end of the camp, and one of the Boer guards cut a couple of the wires to let us through, and siad good-bye to us very nicely. Then we shouldered our kits and marched off. After walking about eight or ten miles we came to the hill that the British forces were on. The hill was about 1,000 feet high, and it took us a terrible time to get up it, as it was very steep and our kits were heavy, and we weren't too strong. However, we reached the top. There were about eighteen fellows in our little crowd, and we were taken to a large marquee tent and dished out with biscuits and coffee, and after this we got a nice beef stew. I can tell you we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. Next day we were sent down to Waterval Boven, a little town on the other side of this hill, and there we camped that day.
The bulk of the prisoners were sent off next morning by train to Pretoria, but we did not get away for a couple of days, and during that time we had some good fun. In the mornings we made raids on the houses in the town and captured hens and chickens and stuck pigs with our bayonets, and lived like fighting cocks. During these days we strolled up the town and looted all the empty houses. In one of these houses Ernest Adair and myself got two Transvaal flags down in a cellar. I have sent one home. We got no other loot of any value as mementoes, but we got plenty of good "grub" in some of them, such as tins of milk, jam, butter, and Quaker oats. I forgot to tell you that on the second day after we arrived at Waterval Boven we -- viz., all the prisoners who hadn't gone away -- were inspected by Lord Roberts and his Staff, also Kitchener, French, Pole-Carew, and Buller. Our next move was to Pretoria. We left Waterval Boven pretty late in the evening, and reached a little station called Dalmanutha, where the last three wagons ran off the line and stopped our train. No damage was done, only we had to remain there until next morning. We got off again early in the morning, and after travelling all day we arrived in Pretoria late in the evening. We had a good bit of a tramp to the rest camp. When we got there we were served out with bread and coffee, and shortly after we turned in for the night. Next day the authorities commenced giving us new "togs." We burned all our old ones as the new ones were supplied, and in about three days we were clothed anew from top to toe, and also re-armed.
While we were in camp Joe Allen and I visited Pretoria and had a good look round, but to be the second largest town in Transvaal it's a very poor looking place. There is one decent square in which the Government Buildings (Irish Hospital) are situated, and a few decent shops and hotels, but for the rest the houses are not up to much, even Kruger's is only a very one-horse looking show. I believe Mrs. Kruger was at home when we were gazing at the old boy's house, but we decided not to call on her as we knew he wasn't there, and people might talk.
Our next move was to Kroonstad, and after getting nicely settled in a nice camp we again got shifted to a beastly little hole of a station called Serfontein, where we had very hard picket duty to do. We were our every night lying in trenches along the railway line guarding bridges and crossings, and patrolling along the line to the next picket, which was stationed probably two miles away on some little bridge. Then we were sent to Vredefort Station on the same kind of duty, and after two days of it there we came back to Serfontein, and after a couple of days' stay there we are now back again in Kroonstad.
I haven't an idea what they are going to do with us, and the romours that are going about are terrible. One minute you hear you are going home, the next minute it's contradicted. Then some one starts a yarn about us going to be sent after De Wet. Altogether, one can't make head or tail of any of the stories, so I've given up listening to them.
Well, I think I've given you a fairly decent account of what we have been through. Of course there are plenty of little incidents, but I couldn't write them all down, and you'll have to wait until I get home (as I hope to do).
I am going to try and answer all the letters I received, but you never know what duty you may get, and it's very hard writing letters when you don't get sitting down and writing them at once. For instance, this letter has taken about three weeks to write, getting a short spell at it about every couple of days, and of course it's not every day that one feels in humour to write. I can tell you I'm thoroughly sick of this life now, but all the same I shouldn't have liked to have missed this South Africa trip.
I must shut up now, as I want to catch this mail, Thanks awfully for that map you sent me. It's a splendid one, and is very interesting to refer to when one hears of any engagements.
I am in the best of health, weighing 11st. 5lb. in light clothing, and am living in great hope of seeing you all at Christmas.
(The Boer flag referred to in this letter is now on view in the windows of Messrs. James H. Hall & Co., 18, Shipquay-street.)
At the time of the 1911 Census Donnell was living a 10 Victoria Park, Londonderry, with his father, step-mother, and a step-brother, and working as a ship owner and coal merchant.
On 22 September 1915 he married Florence Gardiner in the Emmanuel Church, Clifton, Bristol. He died at Owenmore, Caw, County Londonderry, on 4 February 1954.
Londonderry Sentinel, 6 February 1954
This page last updated 12 January 2025.