Three Years' War

It was perfectly clear that those who had crossed the swamp must go on. And so I advanced, at the same time giving General Fourie orders to remain behind with a hundred of the men whose horses were less exhausted than those of the other burghers, and to try to get the waggons through. In the event of the enemy arriving before his task was completed, I told him to leave the waggons and make his escape to the south.

Having given these orders, I proceeded with my commando to the railway line. Only the weakest of the horses were with us, so that many of my burghers had to go on foot.

The ninety prisoners we had taken were with me. I could not release them, because I did not want them to tell the enemy how exhausted our horses were. Should the English know this they would know exactly where our weak point lay.

I pitied the poor "Tommies," but what else could I do but order them to march with me? I treated them as well as I could, and made no difference between them and the burghers. And after all, many of our own men had to go on foot.

Any delay was dangerous, and so we hurried on as fast as possible. When we reached the railway line, day had already begun to break. Fortunately, we met with no opposition; the patrols had followed my orders and broken the line.

When the sun rose one could see what a terrible condition the burghers were in. On every man's face utter exhaustion could be read. But how could it have been otherwise? The men had had fighting to do the previous day, and had only once been able to off-saddle, and that not long enough to cook a piece of meat. Rain had also been falling in torrents, and most of the men were wet to the skin, for very few of them had waterproofs. And to make matters still worse, the burghers were covered with the mud from the swamp that still clung to them.

Twenty-four hours had passed without the men being able to lie down and rest; and sleep, of course, had been entirely impossible.

Three miles beyond the railway line I gave orders to off-saddle, although there was no grass for the horses. Hardly had we dismounted when I was told that we should find grass about one hour's ride further on. And so we mounted again, fatigued though we were, and found pasture at last for the poor animals. I thought it better that the masters should endure more hardships than that the horses should go without grass. We were rewarded for our short ride by the knowledge that our horses had something to eat, and we could sleep in peace without having to think that our animals were starving.

But before we could sleep hunger compelled us to kill a sheep which we had bought from a farmer living near. In that part of Cape Colony sheep-farming is almost the only occupation, and so well adapted is this district for rearing sheep that it is quite an exception to see a lean one. It may interest some of my readers to know that the African sheep has a very remarkable peculiarity; it possesses a huge tail, which sometimes weighs as much as ten pounds.

We were unable to obtain bread, and our flour had remained behind in the waggons. The sound of an explosion had told us that General Fourie had not been able to save them, and that by now they must have been burnt.

I heard later on that General Fourie had been attacked by the English and had not been able to set fire to the waggons himself. But the English, so my scouts informed me, had done the work for him, and so thoroughly that they had also burnt some of their own waggons which had got into the swamp.

After we had helped ourselves to a good "African boutspan," and had slept with our saddles as pillows, we were all in good spirits again, although we could not forget our experiences in the swamp.

The burghers whom I had with me were of the right stamp, and were prepared to sacrifice everything for the freedom of the people. If any one had asked them whether they were ready to undergo any further hardships, they would have replied that a hundred swamps would not discourage them. They knew that freedom was a pearl of such value that no man since the world began had been able to set a price upon it.

When General Fourie had abandoned the waggons, he retreated to the south, crossing the railway at De Aar. He joined me again near Petrusville when I was returning to the Free State.

As the English had to march round the swamp, leaving their waggons behind, we were not pressed for time, or obliged to march very far. We took advantage of this respite to give our horses a little rest.

I now proceeded to the west of Hopetown, in the direction of Strijdenburg. The following day the English were again on our heels in greater numbers than ever, and advancing more speedily than before. I was obliged to engage their vanguard for nearly the whole of that day.

That evening we arrived at a spot about ten or twelve miles to the north-west of Strijdenburg. Here I left Commandant Hasebroek behind with three hundred men, till the following morning, with orders to watch the enemy and hold them back if necessary. This would give my burghers who were on foot, or whose horses were exhausted, a chance of getting away.

I might here explain to the uninitiated our methods of checking the advance of the enemy.

The burghers who had the best horses would remain behind any rise or kopje they could find in the neighbourhood. When the enemy approached and saw ahead of them two or three hundred burghers they would halt and bring their guns (which were usually placed in the middle of the column) to the front. When they had got the guns in position, they would bombard the ridge behind which the burghers were stationed. But as our men had no wish to remain under fire, they would then quietly withdraw out of sight. But the English would continue bombarding the hill, and would send flanking parties to the right and left. Sometimes it would take the English several hours before they could make sure that there were no Boers behind the rise.

It was tactics such as the above that gave my burghers who were handicapped by the condition of their horses, time to retreat.

It sometimes happened, in these rearguard actions, when the position was favourable, that the enemy were led into an ambush, and then they were either captured or sent racing back under our fire to bring up their guns and main force. Had we not acted in some such way as this, all my men would have been taken prisoner in this and in many other marches.

The large forces which the English on all occasions concentrated round me deprived me of any chance of fighting a great battle; and I could only act in the way I did.

If the reader is eager to know how it was that I kept out of the enemy's hands until the end of the war, I can only answer, although I may not be understood, that I ascribed it to nothing else than this:—It was not God's will that I should fall into their hands.

Let those who rejoice at my miraculous escapes give all the praise to God.

CHAPTER XXVI

Darkness Proves my Salvation

Commandant Hasebroek held the enemy in check whilst we continued our march to a place called Vrouwpan. On the following day we struck the Brak River at a point ten miles south-east of its confluence with the Orange River, to the east of Prieska. It was not fordable, and we had to off-saddle.

There was absolutely no chance of getting across—the best of swimmers would have been helpless in that swollen torrent, which rushed down to the Orange River, its great waves roaring like a tempestuous sea.

About two hours before sunset Commandant Hasebroek reported that the English were rapidly approaching. The question was, "Which way shall we go?" It was impossible to escape either to the south of the river or in the direction of the enemy, for the veldt was too flat to afford us any cover. If we were not to be cornered against an impassable torrent, we must make our way down stream to the north-west; and even then we should be in danger of being driven on to the Orange River, which was only ten miles distant. By taking this road the English would not see us, on account of a ridge which lay between us and them.

My plan was to get behind this ridge and to march under its shelter until darkness came on; then, proceeding up the Orange River, to attack the enemy in the rear. They were, however, only nine miles from us, and should their advance be rapid, they would reach the friendly ridge before night came on; and the danger would then be that before I had fulfilled my purpose, we should be hemmed in between two swollen rivers with the most fatal consequences. The risk was great, but no other course was open to us. There was no time to seek advice from any one; I had but a moment to spare in which to acquaint President Steyn with my scheme. He said at once: "General, do as you think best."

My mind had been already made up; but my respect for the President was so great, and we had always worked in such harmony, that I did not like to do anything without his knowledge; besides which, his advice was often of great value. Joshua of old prayed that the day might be lengthened: but here the case was different; we had reason to be thankful that the day was passed and night had begun to fall before the vanguard of the enemy had reached the ridge, from the summit of which they might have observed us.

That night was the darkest I had ever known. And this was in our favour. Very quietly we retreated in a line parallel with the English column until, on the following morning, we were not only out of sight but a good nine or ten miles behind the enemy, who were marching on, fully expecting to corner us between the two rivers.

The English army had been enormously reinforced, and it was clear that now more than ever they were putting forth all their powers to silence President Steyn and myself effectually.

From their point of view they were right; for had things turned out in such a way that we could have remained in Cape Colony, then I am convinced we should have made matters very awkward for them.

But what were we to do now? With so many burghers on foot or provided only with worn-out horses, it was useless to think of circumventing the enemy, and thus getting once more to the south of them; whereas to go up stream along the banks of the Orange River until we could discover a ford, and then to return across it into the Free State, would mean the upsetting of my plan of campaign.

I was obliged to make the best of a bad bargain; and I decided to find a way across the Orange River before the enemy had discovered my whereabouts.

That day, the 20th of February, we set out along the river, looking for a ford. The river was falling, but as there was no feasible crossing we had no choice but to go on, trusting that we should find one near the confluence of the two rivers. Here again we were disappointed; the punts which should have been there had been destroyed some time before by the English, but we heard of a boat six miles higher up, so on we marched. When found, it was only a small boat, capable of holding, at most, twelve men, but we got to work at once, and by the evening of the 22nd there were two hundred dismounted burghers on the other bank of the river. Some crossed by swimming, in attempting which a man of the name of Van de Nerwe was drowned.

A few of those who crossed in the boat succeeded in pulling their horses after them.

On the morning of the 23rd I received a report that the English forces were close on our heels. We did not expect them so soon, but they had made a long night's march. Without delay we off-saddled, and proceeded along the river, while the rearguard covered our retreat. The force of the enemy was, however, too great, and the rearguard had, after a short engagement, to give way.

Fortunately the veldt was broken, and we could (as we had done a few days previously) march ahead out of sight of the enemy. Towards two o'clock in the afternoon we were obliged to off-saddle, but could only do so for one hour, for the English were upon us again. Our gun and Maxim-Nordenfeldt we had to leave behind for the enemy; the draught cattle had become exhausted, and we had no dynamite with which to blow up the guns.

But what did it matter? England had already so many big guns that two more could not make much difference, if added to the four hundred which that country—one of the oldest and strongest of Empires—had brought against a small nation, fighting only to defend its sacred rights.

Nevertheless, it cut me to the heart to give up my guns[88] on that day—the 23rd of February—the commemoration day of the independence of the Orange Free State. In happier times we had celebrated this day amongst our friends, to the accompaniment of salvoes of rifles. Now we were obliged to celebrate it by giving up the only two guns with which we could still shoot, and which we were now to see turned upon ourselves.

My feelings on that day I can never forget! Those Englishmen who go by the name of "Pro-Boers" are the best fitted to describe the anguish which then overpowered me, for they stood up for justice even against their own people. And this not because they were hostile to their Government, or to the greatness of England's power, but only because they were not without moral sense, because they could not stifle conscience at the expense of justice, nor identify themselves with iniquitous actions.

But the day will come—of this I am convinced—when not Pro-Boers only, but all England will acknowledge our rights—the rights which we shall then have earned by our quiet faithfulness and obedience. I cannot believe that any father will look without pity on a child who comes to him as a child should—obedient and submissive.

The 23rd of February, 1901, the forty-seventh anniversary of the Orange Free States, had been a disastrous day for us indeed, but it was to end in another miraculous escape, for in the darkness of that evening it again happened that we were delivered from an apparently unavoidable misfortune. As I have said already, the English were firing on my rear-guard; at the same time my scouts came in to tell me that, just in front of us, at a distance of not quite four miles, there was another great army of the enemy. I had intended to march that night to the west of Hopetown. But now if I went in that direction I should only run straight on to this army. If we went to the left we could only advance 2,000 paces before being visible to the English on the kop close to Hopetown, from where they could make known our movements by heliograph. At our front, at our back, on our left, the outlook was hopeless; and to the right lay the cruel river. Stand still we could not—the enemy were upon us—it was impossible that anything could save us—no, not impossible—a rescue was at hand.

The sun was just going down, and by the time we could be seen from Hopetown, night would have covered us with its sheltering wings.

We should then be able to execute a flank movement, and make a detour round the enemy who were before us. But now I knew that we must be prepared to march nearly the whole night through, in order that we might be able, early on the following morning, to cross the railway lines. If we did not do this, then we should have the enemy close in our rear, and perhaps an armour train threatening us in front. But ... there were the burghers on foot and those who had weak horses; and I had not the heart to make them march on foot for so long a time, yet the thought of allowing such trustworthy patriotic burghers to fall into the hands of the enemy was unbearable. I therefore decided on letting them take a cross road to the north, to the banks of the Orange River about five miles from our position. There, on the banks of the river, were many bushes amongst which they could hide themselves until the enemy had passed by. They could then proceed along the banks of the river and cross it by means of the boat. I cautioned them not to march in one troop, or in one trail, but to spread out, so that the English could not easily follow their tracks. In this the poor burghers succeeded; they already, on that memorable and sad day, had marched eighteen miles; but they had yet to cover another five miles to the river before they could take their night's rest. They accomplished this feat (on the second day) under the valiant and true Commandant Hasebroek, whose horse, although tired, was still able to proceed. As for me, I marched away in the evening, and after we had rested that night for a few hours, we arrived at a place a short distance to the south of Hopetown. About eight o'clock we crossed the line, which was fortunately at that point not as yet guarded by forts, and off-saddled about six miles beyond. We had eaten nothing since the previous day, and it will easily be understood that we were so hungry that we, as the Boer proverb says,—"could have eaten off a nail's head." There we got some sheep, and it was not long before they were killed, broiled, and eaten; what a meal we made!

Towards mid-day we headed once more for the Orange River. We thought that by the time we arrived it would be fordable, for we had seen on the previous morning that it was falling rapidly, but what was our disappointment! there must have been rain higher up the stream, as the river had become fuller, and there was still no chance of crossing.

The English were approaching. We had, however, to use our field glasses to enable us to see them, as we were fifteen or sixteen miles in front of them. Once more there were burghers whose horses were tired and who had to march on foot. We thought now that there would be a better chance at Limoensdrift; and every one who knew this ford said that it was a shallow one. The following day saw us there, and—the river was quite full! We then tried higher up, still with the same result—every drift was unfordable.

At last we reached the Zanddrift, where we had crossed seventeen days before. We knew that this was a shallow drift, and on arriving there I got two young burghers,—of whom the one, David Heenop, was an excellent swimmer,—to make a trial. The water had not appeared to be so deep as we found it to be, when the two burghers plunged into it. They could not remain on their horses' backs, but had to swim alongside of them to the other side of the river. All thought of their return was out of the question; they had risked their lives in crossing, and I gave them orders from my side of the river not to attempt the passage back. But they had not a stitch of clothing on them, for they had stripped themselves before entering the water! In this state, then, they were obliged to mount their horses and proceed, and this under a burning sun, which scorched them with its rays. About three-quarters of an hour's ride from there was a Boer farm; their only course, they thought, was to ask for gowns from the ladies there, in which to dress themselves. When they arrived at a short distance from the house (such was the account they gave on joining me later on) they halted and shouted to the house for clothing. A Boer vrouw[89] named Boshof, sent to each one through her son—not a gown, but a pair of trousers and a shirt of her husband's, which she had been able to hide from the English, who had passed there, and who generally took away, or burnt, all male attire.

The enemy had, in the meantime, approached quite close to us, and we were again obliged to look for a drift up stream. We had hopes that if the river did not all of a sudden rise, we should find one. We came so close to the English that we had to open fire on their advance guard before we could proceed.

Here General Judge Hartzog met us with his commandos from the south-west of Cape Colony, and with him, General Fourie.

That night we marched about fourteen miles.

In the night, after crossing the Zeekoe River, we arrived at a Boer farm, to which (we are told) twenty English scouts had paid a visit shortly after sunset, and, having asked for information concerning us, had gone away by the same road we were following. About four or five miles from there we had to cross a ridge. It was dark, and I had forgotten those twenty English. I had sent out no scouts before me, but rode, as was my habit, with my staff, in front of the commandos. As we approached the summit of the mountain I saw a group of horses fastened together, and some men lying in front of them. The horses and men were not twenty paces to the left of the path, among the bushes. I thought at first that they were some of my burghers who had ridden on in advance, and were now lying there asleep; I myself had rested for a while at the foot of the mountains, to give the burghers, who were on foot, a chance of coming up with me. The thought angered me, for it would have been against all orders that any burghers, without special permission, should go in advance. I proceeded to wake them up.

"What do you mean by riding ahead like this?" I called out to them. Nearly all with one accord sprang up and asked, "Who are you?" "Hands up!" I called out; as one man their hands went up. They explained that they were seven of the twenty scouts before mentioned,—but here the remainder opened fire upon us from about two hundred paces to the front. I called out to the burghers, "Charge!"

The burghers did so, but as they came to the little hill where we had seen the sparks from the guns they found nobody. The English had fled, and, as the moon had just gone down, it was too dark to pursue them. Taking with us the seven prisoners, we continued on our way until the following morning. We allowed them to retain their clothes. It was still before the "uitschuddings"[90] period.

The day broke, and after having been turned back on the banks of the Brak River, we marched to the fifteenth ford. "If we could only get across here," we said. We knew that once across we should have a respite from the enemy, and could with thankful hearts take breath even if it were only for three or four days.

When we came to the river I at once ordered a few burghers to undress and go in. Alas! when the horses entered the ford, the water came over their backs, and they had almost to swim. "Now they will have to swim!" we cried, but presently we saw that the farther they went the shallower it became, and that they walked where we expected them to swim, until at last the water reached only to the horses' knees.

What a scramble there was now among the burghers in order to cross! Soon the river was one mass of men from bank to bank.

I can hardly describe the different exclamations of joy, the Psalms and the songs that now rose up from the burghers splashing through the water. "Never will we return," "No more of the Colony for me," "The Free State," "On to the Free State!" "The Free State for ever!" Then again, "Praise the Lord with cheerful song," "Hurrah!" These were among the expressions which met my ears.

Although this was only an old waggon-ford, which had not been used for the last few years, my little waggon and a few carts got across. One of the carts was drawn by two small donkeys. Somebody told me that the little donkeys had to swim a short distance where it was deep, and at one time disappeared beneath the water; but that the driver was so full of joy—or of fear—that he went on whipping the water!

A fearful experience we had had! We asked each other in wonder, "Is it possible? How could we have endured it?" But as I have only been hinting at things, the reader will perhaps say, "O come! it hasn't been as bad as all that!"

Give me leave then, dear reader, to place before you the whole of the circumstances. England's great power pitted against two Republics, which, in comparison with European countries, were nearly uninhabited! This mighty Empire employed against us, besides their own English, Scotch and Irish soldiers, volunteers from the Australian, New Zealand, Canadian and South African Colonies; hired against us both black and white nations, and, what is the worst of all, the national scouts from our own nation sent out against us. Think, further, that all harbours were closed to us, and that there were therefore no imports. Can you not see that the whole course of events was a miracle from beginning to end? A miracle of God in the eyes of every one who looks at it with an unbiassed mind, but even more apparent to those who had personal experience of it. Yet, however that may be, I had to declare again that if there had been no national scouts and no Kaffirs, in all human probability matters would have taken another turn. But as things have turned out, all that can now be said is, that we have done our best, and that to ask any one to do more is unreasonable. May it be the cry of every one, "God willed it so—His name be praised!"

CHAPTER XXVII

Was Ours a Guerilla War?

Something almost miraculous now happened! Hardly had we been three hours across the river when it became completely unfordable!

We knew that we should have now a few days at least in which to rest ourselves, and we marched slowly to the farm of Lubbeshoop. From there I sent General Fourie to operate in the south-eastern districts, where he had been before, and despatched Judge Hertzog to the south-western districts.

We were of the opinion that we should be able to do better work if we divided the commandos up into small parties. We could not risk any great battles, and, if we divided our forces, the English would have to divide their forces too.

The commandos were now divided as follows:

1. The district of Kroonstad: the men under Commandants Philip De Vos, Jan Cilliers and Maree.

Sub-district of Heilbron: the men under Commandants F.E. Mentz, Lucas Steenekamp and J. Van de Merwe.

All of these were under Vice-Commander-in-Chief Johannes Hattingh.

2. The district of Vrede: the men under Commandants Ross and Manie Botha.

Sub-district of Harrismith: the men under Commandants Jan Meijer, Jan Jacobsz,[91] and (at a later period) Brukes.

All of these were under Vice-Commander-in-Chief Wessel Wessels.

3. The district of Winburg: the men under Commandant Hasebroek.

The sub-district of Ladybrand: the men under Commandant Koen.

The sub-district of Ficksburg: the men under Commandant Steyn.[92]

The sub-district of Bethlehem: the men under Commandant Michal Prinsloo.

All of these men were under Vice-Commander-in-Chief C.C. Froneman.

4. The district of Boshof: the men under Commandant J.N. Jacobsz, P. Erasmus and H. Theunissen.[93]

Sub-district of Hoopstad: the men under Commandants Jacobus Theron (of Winburg) and A.J. Bester (of Brandfort).

All of these were under Vice-Commander-in-Chief C.C.J. Badenhorst.

5. The district of Philippolis: the men under Commandants Munnik and Hertzog.

Sub-district of Fauresmith: the men under Commandant Charles Nieuwouwdt.

Sub-district of Jacobsdal: the men under Commandant Hendrik Pretorius.

Sub-district of Petrusburg: the men under Commandant Van du Berg.

All of these were under Vice-Commander-in-Chief Judge J.B.M. Hertzog, who also was in command of the western part of Bloemfontein.

6. The district of the southern part of Bloemfontein: the men under Commandants Ackerman and Willem Kolbe.

Sub-district of Thaba'Nchu: the men under Commandant J.P. Strijl (a member of the Volksraad).

Sub-districts of Bethulie and Smithfield: the men under Commandant Gideon Joubert.

Sub-district of Rouxville: the men under Commandant Frederik Rheeders.

Sub-district of Wepener: the men under Commandant R. Coetzee.

All of these were under Vice-Commander-in-Chief Piet Fourie, and later on under George Brand.

Not long after this arrangement had been made the district under General Froneman was divided into two divisions, and Commandant Michal Prinsloo was promoted to be Vice-Commander-in-Chief of Bethlehem and Ficksburg as separate sub-districts. Bethlehem was then given three Commandants, namely, Commandants Olivier, Rautenbach and Bruwer.

All this new arrangement of our forces made it impossible for great battles to be fought; it offered us the opportunity of frequently engaging the enemy in skirmishes, and inflicting heavier losses upon them than would otherwise have been the case. For the same reason our losses grew larger from month to month, but they did not increase in the same proportion as those of the enemy. Again, we captured more prisoners than formerly. It is much to be regretted that we were unable to keep them, for had we been in a position to do so, the world would have been astonished at their number. But unfortunately we were now unable to retain any of our prisoners. We had no St. Helena, Ceylon or Bermuda, whither we could send them. Thus, whilst every prisoner which the English captured meant one less man for us, the thousands of prisoners we took from the English were no loss to them at all, for in most cases it was only a few hours before they could fight again. All that was required was that a rifle should be ready in the camp on a prisoner's return, and he was prepared for service once more.

The fact that we fought throughout the Free State in small detachments, put the English to some trouble, for they felt themselves obliged to discover a vocabulary of names to apply to us!

Thus when Lord Roberts on the 24th of May, 1900, proclaimed the Orange Free State (and afterwards the Transvaal) as annexed by the British Crown, he described those who continued to fight as rebels. Then again we were called "Sniping Bands" and "Brigands." But the list of epithets was not exhausted yet, for it appeared that we were "Guerillas," and our leaders "Guerilla Chiefs!"

I was always at a loss to understand by what right the English designated us "Guerillas." They had, however, to withdraw the soubriquet at the Peace Negotiations, when they acknowledged that our leaders formed a legal government.

Let me say a few words more about this term "Guerillas." We will suppose that England has captured New York, St. Petersburg, Berlin, Paris, Amsterdam, or any other capital of a free and independent State, Kingdom or Empire, and that the Government of such State, Kingdom or Empire still continues to defend itself. Would England then be entitled to call their antagonists "Guerillas"? Or, we will suppose that England's capital has been taken by another nation, but the English Government still remains in existence. Could England then be considered to be annexed by the other nation, and could the enemy term the English "Guerillas"? Surely it would be impossible!

The only case in which one can use this word, is when one civilized nation has so completely vanquished another, that not only is the capital taken, but also the country from border to border is so completely conquered that any resistance is out of the question.

But that nothing like this had happened in South Africa is clear to every one who recalls the names of Lindley,[94] Roodewal, Dewetsdorp, Vlakfontein, Tafelkop[95] and Tweefontein, not to speak of many other glorious battle-fields on which we fought after the so-called annexation.

Nor must we forget to mention the defeat that Lord Methuen received at the hands of General De la Rey immediately before the conclusion of peace; a defeat which put the crown on all our victories.

But, as I have already said, it very soon appeared that when England stamped us as "Guerillas," they really did not mean to use the word at all.

CHAPTER XXVIII

Negotiations with the Enemy

It was the intention of President Steyn to remain for some time in the division of Vice-Commander-in-Chief Judge Hertzog. Meanwhile, I went to the northern commandos, in order to keep in touch with Generals Louis Botha and De la Rey and our Government. When I was about twelve miles to the south of Petrusburg, I received a letter from General Botha, informing me that Lord Kitchener desired to have a conference held, at Middelburg, in the middle of February, as the English Government wanted to make a Peace Proposal. General Botha asked the President and myself to come yet nearer, so that, in case we might be wanted, we should be within reach.

I sent on his letter to President Steyn, giving him my opinion of it, and asking if he would come. The President, who was always ready to do anything for his country or people, did not lose one moment, but came at once. Meanwhile, I went on ahead with my staff, taking with me also Captain Louis Wessels, and five of his men.

About the 15th of March I crossed the railway line, ten miles to the north of Brandfort, during the night. There we placed some charges of dynamite under the rails, but before we had completed our work, a train came up so quietly that one might call it a "scouting train." It was a dark night, and there was no lantern at the head of the engine, so that we did not see it until it was close upon us. We had, therefore, no chance to ignite the fuse. We retired to a distance of about one hundred paces from the line, when a fierce fire was opened upon us from the train. We replied to this as the train went past, to be succeeded immediately afterwards by a second one. As soon as this also had passed us, we fired the fuses and blew up the railway line at different places close to each other.

Immediately after this two trains came up, stopping close to the place where the explosions had occurred, and fired on us for about ten minutes without intermission. We paid them back in their own coin, and then each train went its way, leaving the repairing of the line to the following day.

From there we marched on, without accident, except that a German received a slight wound, and one horse was killed. We soon reached Senekal (which had been abandoned by the English), where for the first time I met Dr. Reich and his wife. The doctor received us very heartily; although he did not belong to our Field Ambulance, he did everything that he could for our wounded, as he had done for those of the enemy.

From Senekal I went on to pay a visit to the Heilbron commando, after which I proceeded to Vrede, arriving there on the 24th of February.

It was at Vrede that I had asked Louis Botha to meet me, if he could manage it, and the day after my arrival this meeting took place. The General told me that the negotiations between him and Lord Kitchener had resulted in nothing.

Although this was not very satisfactory, still it was just as well that I should meet the Commandant-General of the Transvaal. We had much to discuss and, after a long talk, we parted with the firm determination that, whatever happened, we would continue the war.

On the 27th General Botha returned to the Transvaal, and I to the Heilbron commando. After a few days President Steyn came from the south of the Free State, in order to meet the Transvaal Government at Vrede. After this meeting had taken place he went off to a camp of his own, for it was thought better that he should not remain with the commandos any longer. I gave him fifty burghers, under the command of Commandant Davel, to serve as a bodyguard.

I had but just returned from my meeting with General Botha when a serious matter arose at Petrusburg, demanding my immediate presence there. It was three hundred and sixty miles there and back, and the journey promised to be anything but a pleasure trip—far less a safe excursion—for me; but the country's interest requiring it, I started on the 8th of April, although much fatigued by my inroad into Cape Colony.

My staff succeeded in capturing an outpost of sixteen men on the railway line near Vredefort, the English losing one killed and two wounded.

I visited the commando at Vredefort, arranged everything at Petrusburg, and started on my return journey on the 17th. I crossed the railway line between Smaldeel and Ventersburg Road Station, and after paying Commandant Hasebroek a short visit, I came back to the Heilbron commando.

Our tactics of dividing our commandos, and thus keeping the English busy in every part of the Free State, or, where they were too numerous for us, of refusing to allow them to give us battle, so enraged them that they no longer spared the farmhouses in the north and north-western districts. Even in the south and south-west many of the houses were wrecked, but the work of destruction was not carried out with the same completeness as in the afore-mentioned districts. The enemy, moreover, did not spare our cattle, but either drove them off or killed them for food. As for our women-folk—any of them who fell into the hands of the enemy were sent off to the concentration camps.

I have no space here, however, to write about the treatment of the women; it is such a serious matter that it would require whole chapters to deal with it adequately. Abler pens than mine will deal with it in full detail. I will only remark here that the Boer women were shamefully treated, and that if England wishes to efface the impression which these cruelties have left upon the hearts of our people, she will have to act as every great conquering race must act, if it is ever to be reconciled with the nations it has vanquished.

Our winter season had now begun. We had no provisions except meat, bread and maize. Even these were rather scarce, but we could not yet say that we were altogether destitute. Coffee and sugar—except when we had an opportunity of helping ourselves from the enemy's stores—were unknown to us. With regard to the first-named commodity, however, the reader must know that in the district of Boshof there grows a wild tree, whose roots make an excellent substitute for coffee. Broken up into small pieces and roasted, they supplied us with a delicious beverage. The only pity was that the tree was so scarce that the demand for this concoction very greatly exceeded the supply. We therefore invented another drink—which we also called coffee—and which was composed of corn, barley, maize, dried peaches, sweet potatoes, and miscellaneous ingredients. My own favourite beverage was abundant—especially after heavy rain!

The question of clothing was now beginning to be a very serious one. We were reduced to mending our trousers, and even our jackets with leather. For the tanning of this leather the old and feeble were employed, who, as soon as the enemy approached, fled, and as soon as they had passed, returned to their tanning. At a later period the English had a trick of taking the hides out of the tanning tubs and cutting them to pieces, in the hope, I suppose, that we should then be compelled to go barefoot and unclothed.

It was to obviate such a catastrophe as this that the custom of Uitschudden[96] now came into force. The burghers, although against orders, stripped every prisoner. The English had begun by taking away, or burning, the clothes which the burghers had left in their houses—that was bad enough. But that they should cut up the hides, which they found in the tanning tubs, was still worse; and—the burghers paid them back in the same coin by stripping the troops.

Towards the end of May I crossed the railway line to Parijs and Vredefort, intending to go on from there to see General De la Rey, and discuss our affairs with him. I had come to the conclusion that it would be good policy to send small commandos into Cape Colony; for small bodies of men can move rapidly, and are thus able to get out of the way if they are threatened by overpowering numbers. Moreover, such small detachments would compel the English to divide their forces.

When I reached Vredefort I received a despatch from President Steyn, summoning me to him. I had thus to abandon my idea of visiting General De la Rey; instead of this, I wrote him a letter requesting him to come to the President. I also sent for Judge Hertzog.

De la Rey was the first to arrive, and, without waiting for Judge Hertzog, we at once proceeded to take into consideration the following letter from the Government of the South African Republic.

The answer which the President sent to this letter was formerly in my possession, but has been lost with many of my documents. I am able, however, to give an extract, which I received from the Rev. J.D. Kestell. It was to the following effect:—

The President was much disappointed with the letter of the Transvaal Government; he said that although there had been in the past some surrenders in the Free State, this difficulty had now been overcome. Moreover, although the ammunition had for a long time been scarce, nevertheless, after every fight, there had been enough to begin the next with. To the question, What probability was there of their being able to continue the struggle? he would reply by asking another question—What hope had the two little Republics, at the beginning of the war, of winning the fight against the might of England? If they had trusted in God at the beginning, why did they not continue to trust in Him?

He also pointed out that if the Boer cause was really quite hopeless, the Deputation would have been sure to send word to that effect. Further, he assured the Transvaal Government that if an armistice were to be obtained, and if during it the people of the Free State were to be asked for their opinion, the decision of the burghers who were still in the field would be to continue the war.

He could not approve of the decision of the Transvaal Government to ask Lord Kitchener to allow ambassadors to be sent to Europe, for, by so doing, the Government would be showing its hand to the enemy; he added that he was very sorry that such a decision had been taken without first consulting the Free State.

As to the fear expressed by the Transvaal Government, that the Authorities and the Officers in the field would be left without burghers, the President said, that even if the Government and the Officers of the Free State were to surrender, the nation would not do so. It would be a great misfortune, he added, if the Orange Free State, which had not only lost its property and the lives of many of its burghers but also even its very independence, in the defence of the sister Republic, should now be abandoned by that Republic; that then all confidence in one another and all co-operation between Afrikanders would come to an end for ever: and that, under such circumstances, it would be too much to expect that the African nation should ever be able to rise again. If then the Boers wished to remain a nation, it was absolutely necessary to continue the war.

After having quoted various appropriate passages from the newspapers, the President went on as follows:—

"All these considerations combine to make me believe that we should be committing a National murder if we were to give in now. Brethren! Hold out a little longer. Let not our sufferings and our struggles be in vain; let not our faith in the God of our fathers become a byword. Do all that you can to encourage one another."

The President concluded this very remarkable and powerful letter with the question:—

"Are we again to leave the Colonial burghers in the lurch? God forbid."

We decided to set out for the Transvaal in order to discuss the matter with the Government; and on the evening of the 5th of June we marched four or five miles from Liebenbergsvlei, to a place opposite Verkijkersdorp. We were, all told, between sixty and seventy men, including the staff and part of the bodyguard of President Steyn, the staff of General De la Rey, and eight of my staff officers.

The following morning, an hour and a half after sunrise, a burgher came galloping up to tell us that the enemy had just captured a laager of women.[97]

It seemed impossible to ride over to the rescue of these women, for our horses had still to make the long journey into the Transvaal. I asked our guest, General De la Rey, what he thought about the matter. He at once replied that we must go and liberate the women. As we were already up-saddled in readiness for our march, I had nothing to do but to give the order to start. The President, with his staff and some of the bodyguard, remained behind; while General De la Rey, Commandant Davel and I, with fifty-five men, hurried off. The retired General, Piet Fourie, was also with us.

The enemy had marched with the laager on to a hill near the Kaffir kraal, consisting of four or five huts and a building made of sods.

We first caught sight of the English when we were at a distance of four miles from them; they were then busy drawing up the waggons of the women in rows of ten or twelve. The oxen belonging to the first row stood close against the kraal, as we saw later on; those of the second row being behind them, and so on.

The women told us afterwards that they had asked to be allowed to retire to a place where they would not run the risk of being shot by us (for the English had taken cover barely one hundred paces behind the waggons and were preparing to fight us from there), but that they were ordered to remain behind the soldiers. They were thus exposed to the danger of being hit by us, if we shot a little too high. It was, they said, the most terrible day they had ever spent.

When we came within range of the English, they opened a hot fire upon us. We had to gallop over ground as smooth as a table with no cover until we were close up to them, and protected by a small hill. We left our horses here, and ran as fast as we could up the incline. At the top we were within forty paces of the place where the English were lying in wait for us. As soon as our heads appeared over the brow of the hill they fired on us; but there was only one round fired, for our reply was so sharp and severe that many of them were at once mowed down. The rest jumped up and retreated behind the last row of waggons, several of them, however, being killed during their flight.

Our men dashed through between the waggons, but the English were the first to reach the kraal. They had made loopholes in its walls, through which they now fired on us. The only shelter we had was a Kaffir hut, which as is well known, always has a round wall. There was no chance for us to make loopholes—the wall was too solid—so that if a burgher wanted to shoot he had to expose his whole body, while the English lay ready behind their loopholes to fire on us. So it happened that eleven burghers were killed and seven wounded. Among the dead was Captain Thijnsma, and among the wounded, Lieutenant H. Howell.

In the meantime we had got the waggons away, except the row which was nearest to the kraal, and which were too close to the enemy for us to be able to approach them safely.

No sooner had the English taken refuge in the kraal than the women fled with the waggons; and it is astonishing to relate that only one little boy of thirteen years was killed, and a woman and a girl slightly wounded. One of the burghers whom the English had taken prisoner was also killed.

I have no exact figure as to the losses of the English, but judging from the number of dead and wounded lying on the battlefield, I should say that their casualties must have been about eighty.

The fight lasted from eleven till three o'clock, and then a reinforcement of cavalry, from eight hundred to one thousand men strong, appeared with some guns. The force with which we had been engaged, numbering about two hundred men, belonged to the column which was now coming up. As we could not drive the English from the kraal before the arrival of the reinforcements, we had to give way.

Although I had given orders that all the waggons which had managed to escape should be sent on to Reitz, in the actual event only a few carts went there. The women had left the waggons behind, close to the hill at the foot of the English position, where I could not see them, in order to await the result. They had forgotten what I had told them, namely, that they were to get away as quickly as possible. This order I had given in the expectation that a reinforcement might arrive at any moment.

After I had ordered a few men to bring the wounded into a safe place, I retired with the remainder, some forty-five in number. Among these was Veldtcornet Serfontein and his burghers.

The English now directed their fire upon the women's laager, to compel it to come to a standstill. Whether any of the women and children were killed or wounded I was unable to ascertain, but it was horrible to see the bombs bursting over their heads. Thus the women again fell into the hands of the enemy.

With four of my adjutants and Piet Fourie, I succeeded in driving away quite one thousand five hundred head of cattle. The bombs fell heavily on them also, but I got them safely away. Late that evening we arrived at the spot where we had left President Steyn, only to find that he had gone away. He had been obliged to retreat before the force which the previous evening had been at Duminy Drift, and which had passed near him during the day. The President had accordingly gone some twelve miles in the direction of Lindley.

It was one of the coldest nights we had that winter, and our pack-horses which were carrying the blankets were with the President. It was impossible for us to sleep without any covering on such a night as that, and so we were obliged to march on. We had moreover to look for something to eat, for we had had nothing since breakfast. Our horses had never had their saddles off from the time we went out to fight until we arrived about midnight at the President's camp.

CHAPTER XXIX

President Steyn's Narrow Escape

The following morning we had to continue our journey to the Transvaal. It being necessary to keep out of sight of the enemy, we marched first a short distance to the south, and then went south-east. After a few days we reached Vrede. There Commandant Manie Botha spared us a few burghers who knew this part of the country well to serve as guides across the railway line. We headed to the north of Volksrust, and on the second evening after we had left Vrede, we struck the railway line at a spot which was guarded by an outpost. They opened fire on us at once. General De la Rey and I then came to the decision that after the burghers had exchanged a few shots, we would quietly retreat a short distance, and then, with a sweep, try and cross the line at another spot. This ruse was successful and we crossed unobserved. But the first of our men had hardly got seventy paces from the railway line, when a fearful explosion of dynamite took place, not thirty paces from the spot where we had crossed. Whether this was managed by electricity or whether the hindmost horses had struck on the connecting wire of some trap set by the enemy, I cannot say; at all events, we escaped with only a fright.

On the fourth day after this we met the Transvaal Government and held a conference at once, in accordance with the letter mentioned in my last chapter. It grieved us much that things should have taken this turn, for it nearly always happened that somehow matters of this sort came to the ears of the English.

But the Transvaal Government had again taken courage, as they had received an answer to the cable which they had sent to the Deputation, which answer instructed them to hold out; and also because two successful battles had taken place shortly before—one fought by General Kemp, and the other by Commandant Muller. We remained there for two days, and after it had been settled by the two Governments that the war should be continued with all our might, and also that days of thanksgiving and humiliation should be appointed, we went away accompanied by the genial and friendly Commandant Alberts, of Standerton, who brought us across the Natal-Transvaal railway. Captain Alberts was renowned as a valiant soldier; we now also found him to be a most sociable man. He beguiled the time with agreeable narratives of events in which he had taken part, and almost before we realized it we had reached the railway line. We crossed in safety and took a hearty farewell of our friendly Commandant and his burghers.

On our march to Zilverbank—a farm on the Waterval River—I did not require any guide, for I knew the surroundings, having lived there for two years. After breakfast on the following morning we went on to within four or five miles south of Hexrivier farm, about three miles to the north of the Vaal River. There we off-saddled; and shortly after General De la Rey took leave of us. He wanted to cross the railway at a place between Vereeniging and Meyerton Station. This would lead him by a shorter road to his commandos than if he went through the Free State. Our farewell was affectionate—all the more so because we did not know whether we should see each other again on this earth. Then we continued on our way with light hearts; having been inspirited, not only by the pleasant company of the last few days, but also by the decision taken by the two Governments, that, come what might, our independence should not be sacrificed by us.

I crossed the Vaal River at Villiersdorp and remained there that evening and through the following day. Then President Steyn and I parted. He went to Bezuidenhoutsdrift, and I, by way of Frankfort, to the Heilbron commando. I remained at Frankfort for one night, with Commandant Ross and his men, and had a very enjoyable time.

With the Heilbron people I stayed a few days only, because I had important work to accomplish in the Winburg district; to this district therefore I went.

As the commandos were now so scattered there was enough work for each of us in his own district, and I had much more riding to do than formerly. I found Commandant Hasebroek and his men at Doornberg a few days later. Whilst there I received from President Steyn a report of his narrow escape at Reitz, on the 11th of July, 1901, when he and some of his bodyguard escaped, whilst, unfortunately, Commandant Davel and all the members of the Government, except Mr. W.C.J. Brebner, who was absent, were taken prisoners.

From Winburg I paid a visit to Vice-Commandant-in-Chief J. Hattingh, of the Kroonstad commando, and then went to President Steyn. My joy in finding that the President was safe, was only equalled by my grief at the loss of such old friends as General Cronje, Member of the Executive Council; General J.B. Wessels; T. Brain, Secretary to the Government; Commandant Davel; Rocco De Villiers, Secretary to the Executive Council; Gordon Fraser, Private Secretary to the President; MacHardy, Assistant Secretary; Pieter Steyn, brother of the President and Veldtcornet of the staff; and my other friends in the bodyguard. It was sad to think that such men were prisoners, and were lost to us so long as the war continued. We had become rather accustomed to such experiences, but what made this so hard to bear was that treachery had a hand in it—when the English took the Government and President Steyn's bodyguard prisoners, they had had a Free State burgher as their guide.

The vacant posts in the Government had now to be filled up, and the President appointed the following persons:—In the place of A.P. Cronje, General C.H. Olivier, as Member of the Executive Council; and in place of Mr. T. Brain, Mr. W.C.J. Brebner, as Government Secretary. Mr. Johannes Theron he appointed Secretary to the Executive Council, instead of Mr. Rocco De Villiers; and Mr. B.J. Du Plessis Private Secretary to himself in place of Mr. Gordon Fraser.

The President also decided to have, in future, only thirty burghers as his bodyguard, and appointed Captain Niekerk as their Commandant.