A well-documented Boer War medal awarded to Civil Conductor J. W. Spencer, a veteran of the siege of Kimberley, during which he was employed by the Diamond Fields Advertiser, and who died at that place in September 1901

Queen’s South Africa 1899-1902, 1 clasp, Cape Colony (Mr. J. W. Spencer) edge nicks, very fine £250-300

John William “Will” Spencer died at Kimberley Hospital on 26 September 1901, while employed as a Civil Conductor in the Army Service Corps. He had earlier endured the privations of the siege of Kimberley while employed by the Diamond Fields Advertiser, but was not entitled to the appropriate clasp because of his civilian status.

An accompanying original newspaper cutting from the Richmond Herald states:

‘It is with much regret that we have to record the death of Mr. J. W. Spencer, which occcurred on the 26th September at Kimberley Hospital, at the age of 28 years. He will be remembered as the son of ex-Police Sergeant Spencer, late of the Richmond Police Force. The deceased was formerly empoyed by Mr. R. W. Simpson at the Herald office, first as an apprentice at Richmond and subsequently in a more prominent position at Barnes, but owing to ill-health and under medical advice he went to South Africa, and there found employment on the Diamond Fields Advertiser. He was in Kimberley throughout the siege, and the privation he then experienced told upon his somewhat weak constitution. After the siege he returned to England for a time, but went back to South Africa about twelve months ago and to his old employment as a compositor. After a time he was obliged to leave this confined sphere of labour, and found work with the Army Service Corps, in charge of military stores, up to the time of his death. He was much respected by all who knew him. He was accorded a military funeral, the escort being formed of Paget’s Horse.’

Also sold with an original family “In Loving Memory” card and a lengthy handwritten letter, 5pp., from the recipient to his brother, dated 24 May [1900] at Stoke Ferry, Norfolk, in which, among other topics, he describes the siege of Kimberley:

‘ ... No doubt you would like to hear from me as to how I passed through the trying and nerve-shattering tumult of the siege of Kimberley. There is one thing about it - I don’t want any more siege during the rest of my life ... I saw the military balloon and the Lyddite shells bursting on the kopjes at six o’clock in the morning of that dark day [Magersfontein] from Reservoir Camp. Anybody who knew the country between the Modder River and Kimberley would condemn any move as disastrous against an enemy such as the Boers ... Some time after communication was cut off the Boers brought “Silent Susan” into operation from Wimbledon Ridge and was sending them into the Reservoir Camp wholesale sometimes, very often early in the morning. Then after a while they got a large gun, with about a 20lb. shell at Carter’s Ridge, later on another at Sussanah Otto’s Ridge (a hundred pounder) five miles off. That fairly took the cake and often the whole lot would be sending them in at the same time. What ho! She bumps. Yes, they bumped in to the Market Place to a pretty tune - setting stores on fire, completely wrecking other parts of the Town, and all the women and children were sent down the mines for safety - and there remained until relief came and Boer shells were no more. It was an awful time for every one concerned in the last six weeks or so. Our very small force of mounted troops were reduced to an almost useless degree, and sickness began to be felt both amongst soldiers and civilians alike. Hospitals were over crowded with the wounded and sick of all nationalities, and things were generally speaking, as serious as they could possibly be. Every day, and sometimes twice a day, military funerals were the only active bodies moving, and these more often than not when there was a heavy bombardment going on. Very often by the silvery moonlight of that starry African sky, I have known twenty being buried at one service - including a Colonel shot dead at Shelby’s Nek on reconnaissance. In all conscience this was bad enough to endure - when you could not get away from it - but add to that short rations, very little water and the trying heat of summer in those parts. It was too much for me. Although I managed to escape everything in the shape of shells and bullets, I was caught with camp fever and diarrhoea and laid in the hospital for a month, and was nearly reduced to a shadow ... Now I think this is a rattling good historical letter for modern times, don’t you?’

Also see Lot 845 for further family awards.