This second part of my notes, like the first, is not cast in the form of a journal. The reason is that my diary was lost on the 6th of June 1901 at Graspan, near Reitz, where I was captured by the English and remained in their hands for seven hours.[2] I escaped with nothing more than the clothes on my back. When, some days after, I arrived at Fouriesburg I began to rewrite what I could recollect, and succeeded in this better than might have been expected. I prepared a calendar of the Sundays, and this helped me to recall to memory, for every day of the week, almost everything I had noted down. It became evident, however, that I could not now write a journal, but a narrative. This, as I knew, would be less attractive for the future historian, to whom a chronicle, however dry, is of more importance, but it would be, in regard to form, more pleasing to the general reader.

Girding myself to the task, I discovered when I began to write that what I was recording afresh was perfectly reliable. I succeeded better than I expected. Entire pages appeared almost word for word. This was no doubt due to my having written my journal over several times at Zwart Klip, in the months of January and February 1901.

I shall now proceed to relate what I witnessed during the war subsequent to the events which had happened when I made my last notes in Natal.

When the burghers of the Free State had to retire from Natal, a large number of them were ordered to go as reinforcements to our forces who were endeavouring to prevent Lord Roberts with his immense army from penetrating farther into our country. The burghers, however, of Harrismith, Vrede, and Heilbron, under Chief-Commandant Marthinus Prinsloo, were to remain on the Drakensberg to guard the border. They lay along those mountains from Oliviershoek on the west as far as De Beer's Pass to the east. Subsequently the burghers of Heilbron were also called away; and when General Prinsloo shortly after went away to our commandos in the neighbourhood of Lindley and Senekal, Commandant Hattingh of Vrede was elected Chief-Commandant.

I spent nearly the half of my time in visiting these burghers. On Sundays I held divine service in the church at Harrismith, and on week-days I was in one or other of the laagers on the Drakensberg.

It was very irksome for our burghers to lie there inactive, without ever coming into contact with the enemy; for from Natal the English made no advance.

Our men stood guard day and night, and now and then a patrol went down the mountain; but further than this nothing was done. The spare time was employed in building sod-stables for the horses, and making "yoke-skeys" and handsome walking-sticks from the wood of beautiful trees which were ruthlessly felled in the large forests which grow on the Natal side of the Drakensberg mountains. For the rest the younger men amused themselves with swimming, cricket, football, and quoits, and so summer glided away into autumn, and autumn into winter.

Sad waste of energy and time, one might say, whilst the other burghers were engaged in a life-and-death struggle in the middle of the State. Undoubtedly so! But the order had been given: Guard the frontier! And as in obeying this command the burghers of Vrede and Harrismith had also the advantage of protecting their own districts, it was by no means against their will that they thus lay inactive from month to month along the border.

But there came a change in this condition of things when, towards the middle of July 1900, an order was issued by the President that all the forces on the Drakensberg mountains should proceed to Nauwpoort.[3] The border guard immediately raised the objection that it was not advisable to remove all the forces from the frontier, and thus leave the only two districts in the Free State—Vrede and Harrismith—that had not yet been devastated, open to invasion from the side of Natal, and unprotected against Kaffir "raids," and they asked the President if he would not change his decision in this matter. After some correspondence, the President agreed that a small body of men should be left as a guard along the border under Mr. Jan Meyer, who for this purpose was appointed Acting Chief-Commandant; but at the same time gave very strict orders that all the other burghers should without delay proceed to Nauwpoort.

In accordance with these orders the burghers who had since the month of February been stationed on the Drakensberg, left their positions there on the 16th of July 1900, and two days later, after having made some necessary arrangements at their farms, encamped for the night near Mont Paul, about three miles from Elands River. This force consisted of burghers from Harrismith and Vrede, with one Armstrong and two Krupp guns under command of Chief-Commandant Hattingh, with Mr. C. J. de Villiers as General. Early the following morning they crossed Elands River, and the officers held a council of war on the left bank, during a short halt of the laager, when it was decided to requisition slaughter-cattle and horses from the burghers remaining behind, and some of the men were immediately sent to carry out this resolution. That night we encamped at Klerkespruit, not far from the dwelling of the late M. Jacobsz.

On the following day things began to take a more lively turn. The waggons were inspanned early, and had proceeded to the farm Sebastopol, where, about five o'clock in the afternoon, a report-rider from a position of the Bethlehem Commando at Spits Kop came riding into our laager with the request that reinforcements should immediately be sent by us to Spits Kop, to oppose an English force that had marched out of Bethlehem with the apparent intention of going to Harrismith. General de Villiers was in the vanguard, and immediately sent notice to the Assistant Chief-Commandant, at the same time requesting him to send the guns forward. Hurried preparations were now made to proceed without delay with a body of mounted men, and from time to time other despatch riders arrived, urgently asking that there should be no delay. At ten o'clock everything was ready, and the men rode out in the raw winter night. We progressed slowly, for the cannon remained far behind, and from time to time we were obliged to wait for them to come up. Everywhere along the road grass fires could be seen, which had been lit by the burghers to warm their feet by whilst they were waiting for the guns to arrive. At last they halted by a hill to the west of Groendraai, and slept there until the moon rose. We proceeded then to near Davelsrust, and whilst the burghers were filling their kettles there, and partaking of an early breakfast, another messenger arrived with the same request as before. The men ate their breakfast hurriedly, and we were soon in the saddle again marching forward with various expectations. When we drew near to the positions of the Bethlehem men, General de Villiers sent forward the Armstrong under Acting Commandant Streydom (Vrede) to Field-Cornet Gideon Blignaut, who was at Spits Kop, whilst he himself with the two Krupp guns went eastwards, against a force of the English on the left bank of Liebenberg's Vlei, on the hills opposite Langberg. When we approached the enemy we occasionally heard the whistle of a bullet, with the peculiar sensation which that sound is apt to cause. But how suddenly did that pass when the roar of our own guns fell on our ears. The fire of our Krupps made the English, at whom they were aimed, scatter; but our gunners had, in their turn, to seek safety behind a ridge, when the little shells of an English Maxim-Nordenfeldt (pom-pom) began bursting rather unpleasantly around them, and driving terror into the artillery horses. They took up a position at the edge of the ridge, opposite the English, not far from the house of Mr. Nicholas Kruger, a little to the east of a small body of Bethlehem men, and from there kept up a desultory rifle fire until the evening. The following day was Sunday, the 22nd of July. When we awoke it appeared that the enemy had disappeared from the ridge, and about ten o'clock a portion of the burghers were ordered to occupy the deserted positions.

The men were soon there, and a desultory fire was opened from the edge of the ridge to the north-west. After a short time the firing became more severe. The English also brought a Maxim into play, and it seemed as if the fight was going to be a sharper one than that on the previous day. Nothing in the world was the matter; everything, on the contrary, was going satisfactorily, when some officers came riding back from the position to General de Villiers, who was directing the fight from the positions which we had occupied the day before, and told him that the place where the burghers were fighting was untenable. Thereupon the General ordered that they should retire slowly. The burghers who were fighting at the edge of the ridge heard this with much astonishment and disapproval, as they saw no reason for drawing back; but when they noticed that the men on their left were all riding away from their position, they were also obliged to give way. At two o'clock we were back in the positions of the previous day, and the burghers thronged together at a point of vantage to gaze at the positions which had thus been forsaken, filled with dissatisfaction at the desertion.

When they were standing there crowded together, the sound of an approaching shell was heard. It flew just too high, fortunately, over the heads of the throng of burghers, and burst in the kloof behind them. Had it been a little lower it would have worked dreadful havoc. The men dispersed quicker than they had come together, and sought shelter behind the large boulders; and then shell upon shell kept falling till the evening, without, however, doing any damage to man or beast. It had been quite unnecessary to leave those positions, and it struck me as a bad sign that the burghers were so ready to give way. That evening when we turned in the weather was beautifully mild, but this was the harbinger of calamity! Hardly had we lain down to rest before a drizzling rain set in. At midnight I heard a peculiar sound, as of something soft falling upon the blankets. It was snow! Soon it lay two inches thick upon our blankets. After two hours the rain and the snow ceased, but most of us were wet to the skin; and when on the following day we dried our clothes by the fire, we could speak from experience of having had to sleep in the open air in a snowstorm.

After breakfast General de Villiers crossed Liebenberg's Vlei to reconnoitre the positions of the English from Langberg. On arriving there he saw that the enemy was drawing off in the direction of Spits Kop, whereupon he immediately returned. He then ordered the whole of our force to march in the same direction, to support Assistant Commandant Streydom and Field-Cornet Blignaut. He had just given this order when a report arrived from the latter officer, stating that the enemy had occupied Spits Kop, and asking for reinforcements.

After dark we began marching thither; we proceeded with the utmost silence. No fire was lit along the road; smoking was forbidden. Before daylight we were near the position held by Field-Cornet Blignaut, near the so-called "Schurve Kopje" (rugged hillock). It was then resolved that we should go to the hill between the homesteads of Hans and David NaudÉ, where we arrived shortly before sunrise. We had not long been there before General Hattingh arrived. He ordered Commandant Truter, with a number of burghers, to return to Liebenberg's Vlei, and to remain there in order to oppose the enemy should they return thither. In the afternoon we saw a large force of the English approaching along the road that leads over Suiherbosch Plaat. This force was under the command of General Sir H. MacDonald, and had, as we ascertained later on, come from Retief's Nek. The enemy pitched their camp about three or four miles from us, and immediately began to throw out scouts in our direction.

On the following day a council of war was held, and it was resolved to station the burghers as follows:—

The Bethlehem men, under Field-Cornet Blignaut, at Liebenberg's Vlei; the men of Vrede, under Acting Commandant Streydom, at the "Schurve Kopje"; one Field-Cornet at the hill, where the Harrismith men were; and the burghers of Harrismith in the nek of Nauwpoort.

On that same afternoon General de Villiers received a letter from General Roux requesting him to hold Nauwpoort, as it was the intention of the commandos who were on the other side to come through this Pass. The burghers of the various commandos occupied these positions accordingly, and I went to Nauwpoort with the Harrismith burghers.

Next morning General de Villiers expected an attack, and as it was clear to him that the Field-Cornet at the hill between the homesteads of Hans and David NaudÉ would not be strong enough to stop the English, he sent Field-Cornet Pretorius and Assistant Field-Cornet Jan Jacobsz thither with a number of men, whilst he posted Commandant Truter on a fine ridge on the west of the Pass near the house of Abraham NaudÉ. He remained at Nauwpoort with the intention of going to the hill himself later on.

We had hardly reached the hill when it became evident that the enemy had some serious intention in mind. They began to move forward, and marched straight for the hill with two field batteries and one lyddite gun. The force which had taken Spits Kop began at the same time to advance with their guns to "Schurve Kopje."

This had just happened when we saw that the men of the Vrede Commando on the Schurve Kopje were leaving their positions. They certainly had no chance of holding out against the great odds that were advancing on them.

It was now clear to us that we should be in danger of being attacked on our right, if the English who were advancing from Spits Kop should reach the Schurve Kopje, and the prospect was not very cheering. The enemy now began to bombard our positions. The infantry were approaching in extended order. Nearer and nearer they advanced in front as well as on our left.

Our guns, under Sergeant Oosthuizen, did good work, and gave the troops who were advancing on the left a warm reception. Louder and louder roared the English guns, and their shells burst everywhere on and beyond the kop.

General de Villiers rode over to us at one o'clock—just as the fight was at the fiercest. Matters then stood thus: some of the English had already approached so near to our left wing that we were exposed to a cross fire, and others in front were already below the rocky ledges, under cover of which they could get to our rear; moreover, we were in danger of being at any moment bombarded by the guns on the Schurve Kopje, which the enemy had already taken.

For another hour the burghers held their position, and a sharp rifle fire was maintained against the troops on our left flank, especially by Field-Cornet Jan Jacobsz. But when at last it became evident that we should be surrounded if we remained there any longer, the order was given at two o'clock to leave the position. We retired to the west of Mr. Hans NaudÉ's house, and halted on the banks of a donga not far from the foot of the Roodebergen.

If we had had no cannon with us, we could immediately have crossed the dongas near the mountains and have gone to the Pass. But there were the guns. They could travel along the waggon road only; and this was now impossible because of the proximity of the enemy. Our plan, therefore, was to remain where we were until it became dark, and then, under cover of the night, to trek to Nauwpoort.

But we had not calculated the probability that the enemy would immediately follow up the advantage they had gained. That is just what they did.

We had not been off-saddled at the donga three-quarters of an hour before our pickets came in to say that the English were following us up. At all costs now we had to push on to the Pass.

Most of the burghers sprang on their horses and rode away without troubling themselves about the guns. They had to be stopped; and General de Villiers asked me to ride forward and try to stop them, whilst he would drag forward the guns as best he could. I succeeded in inducing the men to halt at another ravine, and when the guns arrived there, many of them helped the gunners to get the ordnance across. It was an ugly defile through which vehicles never passed, and we were obliged first to drag across the fore portion of the gun-carriage, and then to fetch the hinder part. This caused great delay, and meanwhile the enemy fired at us with Maxims, though luckily their shots fell short. The one cannon was already across, and the second one nearly saved, when the shrill shriek of the English shrapnel was heard.

And now there was no longer any chance to stop the men. Each went his own way. To add to our troubles, the carriage of the second gun upset and had to be left behind. The gunners removed the breach and rode away. It was now a case of Sauve qui peut. Some took shelter behind the large rocks, others climbed the mountain, whilst others hurried on to the Pass; but all became conspicuous targets before the Roodebergen and the setting sun shining upon them.

I rode towards Nauwpoort, and saw how shell upon shell was fired after our cannon and the swiftly retreating burghers.

Once during the retreat Sergeant Oosthuizen halted, directed his gun, and fired three rounds of shrapnel at the enemy, hitched his horses to again and drove on.

To add to our uneasiness, we saw on approaching the Pass, that the English were advancing on our flank, with the object of cutting us off from the nek; but they were hotly bombarded there by the burghers of Commandant Truter from the ridge on which he was posted, and by a Maxim of Commandant Hasebroek, who had in the meanwhile entered the Pass. This prevented them from attaining their object of heading us off.

When the sun set the majority of those who had retreated in the direction of that Pass had reached Nauwpoort; likewise our rescued gun; and from there it opened fire heavily upon the English. Then the enemy fired some lyddite shells at long range upon us in the Pass. I have never heard anything more awe-inspiring than when those great shells exploded there. Awakening the thousand echoes of the precipitous rocks on both sides of the Pass, they resounded through the narrow defiles of the mountains like mighty thunder-claps. The shades of night fell now, and all was still. Then the gunners, reinforced by a number of burghers, went and fetched the abandoned gun.

And what had we to record as to our loss on the following day after this terrible bombardment? There had been no loss at all—this was the most marvellous of all that had happened—no loss! This is the strangest of all—no loss of man or beast! Nobody had even been wounded! All—officers and men, were mustered without loss before midday.

CHAPTER II
ON THE BANKS OF THE LITTLE CALEDON

The officers agreed among themselves that General Hasebroek should remain at Nauwpoort to defend the nek, whilst the men of Harrismith were ordered to go to the footpath near the house of Mr. Willem Bester, in order thus to afford the commandos a chance of coming out from behind the mountains somewhere near Oldenburg or Witzieshoek. We therefore advanced on Friday to the south of the Roodebergen, up along the Little Caledon. How lavishly does Nature reveal her magnificence here. Awe-inspiring mountains rise into the air with every variety of jagged rock, crowning the heights now tinted red by the winter grass. The sharpest contrast of light and shadow strike the eye from the barren masses of sandstone, and the deep, dark ravines. One feels overpowered—everything is so colossal! It is in such a place and in sight of such mountain views that one must feel oneself a stranger and sojourner upon this earth of ours. Ay, a stranger, for one cannot claim as one's possession what Nature so liberally offers.

We rode on with this grandeur all around, and arrived at the farm of Willem Bester shortly after noon. There we off-saddled at a large wheatstack, whilst a number of men were sent as a patrol to the top of the mountain where the footpath crosses. I was lying on the straw with the others, when General Roux arrived there. From him I learnt much that surprised me, and which by no means served to cheer me. He told me that, after the President and General De Wet had shortly before passed through Slabbert's Nek, the English had broken through there. This had happened in the previous week. And now the enemy had also taken Fouriesburg. There were still burghers in position on this side of that town, but the majority had no intention of fighting any longer. Everything was demoralised. Moreover, nobody knew who was in command: he or General Marthinus Prinsloo. The consequence was that there was no cohesion. Every Commandant acted as he thought fit. Then there were very many who were fleeing with their cattle and waggons, and it seemed as if all those people cared about was how to save their cattle or waggons, or even some little cart. He saw plainly, that as long as there existed such an immense waggon-laager as that which now accompanied the commandos, and as long also as they were encumbered with women and children, nothing could be accomplished. Under these circumstances he considered that, first of all, somebody should be elected who would be acknowledged as Commander-in-Chief. He thought an armistice of six days should be asked of the English in order to enable us to consult our Government. He had convoked a meeting of a Council of War for this purpose, and the officers were to assemble that same night.

We moved up somewhat nearer to the footpath and spent the night at the foot of precipitous mountains in a beautiful kloof. Here we learned that our waggon-laager, for the safety of which we had been uneasy, was still at large and was encamped at Groendraai. That night the officers held a lengthy meeting, and General Marthinus Prinsloo was elected Chief-Commandant. His election was, however, not final, on account of the absence of some of the officers who had still to vote. It was further resolved, mirabile dictu, by 17 votes against 13, to surrender to the English forces! But the Council of War was undoubtedly startled by this resolution, and immediately brought it under revision, resolving anew that they would ask the enemy for an armistice of six days for the purpose of being enabled to consult with the Government. They further resolved that if this were not to be acceded to by the enemy, a commission of officers should reconnoitre the positions, and if these were found to be untenable, they would then continue fighting in the direction of Witzieshoek with the object of breaking through and passing out of the mountains there. The following day we proceeded. I met the Revs. J. J. T. Marquard, M. Heyns, and P. A. Roux, not far from the house of Mr. W. Bester. They were in no very hopeful mood—a fact which did not tend to cheer me, as the Rev. J. J. T. Marquard, especially, had never been otherwise than buoyant.

I could not remain with them long, because I had to proceed with my commando. What beautiful views of kloof, valley, and mountain presented themselves everywhere! Sometimes an immense rock would rise perpendicularly a thousand feet into the air, from the road along which we were marching. Then we would cross a hill and could look down upon the Little Caledon far below, winding its way through a ravine. How this little stream seemed to soothe and comfort, and soften the weirdness of the grandeur. Now it lay still and calm, caressed by lily and bulrush, where it was for a moment held captive by a ledge of rocks stretching from bank to bank; then again it dashed on as if impatient at being impeded in its course by the great boulders which had fallen into its bed from above. But it was not the rivulet,—it was the mountains that held you spellbound and constrained you to think of nothing else. How sharp was the contrast between the majestic calm of the eternal mountains and the unrest of the men that swarmed below! Everyone kept pressing on. Forward, ever forward! Whither? No one knew whither; but everybody felt himself enclosed within the mountains, as if in the horrid embrace of a nightmare and his only wish was to escape. To escape! no matter whither! and then? This I asked myself, when we had got beyond these mountains, should we then bravely march against the enemy on the plains? Alas! I saw but few indications of it. Yet could I blame this confused multitude? No, they were as sheep without a shepherd. It was then, if ever, that a man—ONE MAN was wanted! Unconsciously the multitude cried for a Leader, and—the Leader did not come!

Long trains of waggons and carts, large herds of cattle and flocks of sheep were driven on with feverish haste. Everywhere one could mark the signs of uneasiness and fear upon the faces of those who were fleeing there. They anxiously inquired of such persons as came from the direction of Fouriesburg or Nauwpoort, where the English were, and whether they might soon be expected.

What grieved me beyond measure was the sight of so many women and children amongst those who were thus endeavouring to escape. Here one might see mothers with babies in their arms, and little ones clinging to their skirts, jumping over the stepping-stones of a river-ford or wading through the water whilst the waggons were struggling across. Yonder again there were others baking bread in ant-hills. Here again you saw girls in scanty clothing, gathering fuel or drawing water, while there was a short halt for the purpose of preparing a meal, and letting the weary oxen rest and graze. Poor women, poor children! Why should they be there?

We rode on, and about noon passed the beautiful farm "Golden Gate" belonging to Mr. Jan van Reenen. He treated the burghers with great kindness, and gave each one a bundle of forage for his horse.

In the afternoon we proceeded on our journey, and when the sun set we stood upon the mountains that look down upon Oldenburg.

Many a time, when visiting as clergyman of the district the members of my congregation there, I had gazed enrapt on the beautiful view of this fruitful plain surrounded by a circle of lordly mountains; and now again, in spite of melancholy thoughts, the charm of the scene entranced me as I looked a thousand feet down. There many carts and waggons had arrived already, and preparations were being made to pass the night on the spot.

We descended by a steep footpath, and learnt that our waggon-laager had not, as we had feared, fallen into the hands of the enemy. It was at that moment still in safety, at the farm of Mrs. van der Merwe. We off-saddled, and soon the mantle of night hid not only the grand views of mountain and kloof, but also the sad spectacle of panic and confusion.

Sunday, the 29th July 1900, must stand on record as the saddest day in the history of our struggle. It was on that day that General Marthinus Prinsloo unconditionally surrendered the whole of the forces under him to General Hunter, notwithstanding the fact that at that moment he was not Chief-Commandant according to law. But let me relate in due order what I experienced.

After having held a short service for the men of Harrismith early in the morning of that Sunday, General de Villiers and Piet MarÉ, member of the Volksraad, addressed them, and General Froneman, who happened to be present, also said a few words. We then passed through the nek to the north of the dwelling of Mr. Salamon Raath, for the purpose of taking up positions against the forces of the enemy under General MacDonald, with whom we had been engaged on the other side of the Roodebergen on the previous Thursday. Those forces had meanwhile moved round by "Davelsrust," with the object of preventing the commandos from escaping at Oldenburg or Witzieshoek.

General de Villiers rode to the house of Mr. Jan Raath to be present at a meeting of officers who had still to vote for the election of a Chief-Commandant. After they had voted, it appeared (so we learnt in the evening) that General Roux had finally been elected Chief-Commandant!

When General de Villiers, with his Field-Cornet, left for the meeting, he ordered his men to occupy a high hill near the residence of Mr. Jan Raath, and left one of the burghers in command during his absence. His burghers thereupon rode along a ditch on the way to the position, but before reaching it they turned off to the right and eventually halted near the house of Assistant Field-Cornet Jan Jacobsz. Here they slaughtered two oxen and ate and drank, preferring to avoid the enemy to fighting him! I saw how things would go. From the ridge behind us I had seen Platberg in the distance, at the foot of which Harrismith lies, and pointing in the direction of their homes I remarked to someone: "Next Sunday all these burghers will be on their farms."

A peremptory command was sent to the burghers to occupy their positions, but they got no farther than a gully; for the enemy was already in possession of the hill which we should have occupied in the morning, and all we could do now was to fire shrapnel at them. At night there was nothing left for us but to retire to the nek. We little knew then what General Prinsloo had been doing that day.

The following day I was up early, and accompanied Mr. Frans Papenfus to the house of A. Cilliers. There I drank a cup of coffee, and then rode on to Mr. Salamon Raath's. On the way thither a Harrismith burgher asked me if it was true that General Prinsloo had surrendered the whole of our force to the English. This was the first word I heard about the matter. I could, however, not believe that Prinsloo would do such a thing, and laughingly replied that the report was certainly incorrect. But very soon it became evident that what the burgher had heard was only too true. General Marthinus Prinsloo had indeed surrendered unconditionally to the enemy. A copy of a letter from General Hunter was handed round, in which he gave the assurance, subject to ratification by Lord Roberts, that no private property or personal belongings of the burghers should be touched, and that each burgher would be provided with a horse to the place where he had to give up his arms.

The greatest excitement prevailed. Many abused Prinsloo, and declared that he ought to be shot. This surprised me, not only because I knew what the resolution of the Council of War on the Friday night had been with regard to the surrender, but also because I had been an eye-witness of the state of despondency of the burghers and of their unwillingness to fight. If Prinsloo should be shot, surely other officers deserved the same fate, and many of the burghers as well. So I thought on that sad Monday morning. Later on, however, it became plain to me that, after all, General Prinsloo had to bear the blame. If there had been a victory he would have claimed the honour. Now, the disgrace of the surrender must for ever be associated with his name. Was he not Chief-Commandant, or at least did he not act as such? And is it not the duty of a Chief to instil courage, where such courage is on the wane, and to lead on where no one else would advance of his own accord? The Chief, indeed, should be the best, the most courageous, and the bravest burgher, else anyone might take upon himself the command of an army. Ah! if ever a leader was wanted, the perplexed multitude, shut up as they were within the mountains behind Nauwpoort, had need of one.

Most of the burghers thought they were bound by the resolution of General Prinsloo to submit and to lay down their arms. I thought so too. Why did we have a Commander if, under certain circumstances, we had to decide for ourselves without recognising him? Unfortunate are the people that in such a case have to decide for themselves. It was my impression that all was lost, at least as far as we who were behind Nauwpoort were concerned. There were, however, others who instinctively judged otherwise about the matter. The shame of surrender while there was a chance of escape by a route running past the dwelling of Salamon Raath seemed to be too great to them, and they declared that they would not lay down their arms.

On the other hand, there were others who, while they did not mind the loss of their independence so much, could simply not bear the thought of being captured, and I heard many say: "I shall not allow myself to be caught by an Englishman." There were also others who were already out of the defiles, and they could not think of returning. And so it happened that a number of burghers under Generals Kolbe and Froneman, and Commandants Olivier, Hasebroek, Visser, van Tonder, Truter, and others, with six guns and some Maxims, immediately moved away in the direction of Harrismith.

In the meanwhile it was said that some persons had been seen with a white flag on the nek to the north of Mr. Salamon Raath's house. General de Villiers went thither, but on the way he was told that they had disappeared.

On his return to his waggons he heard that these persons had been seen at another place.

Two burghers whom he sent to bring them to the laager failed to find them. Instead of returning at once, these two burghers, quite on their own responsibility and without orders, went straight to the English force under General MacDonald, who was then near the house of Jan Raath. The English General received them with the distrust of one who finds men from the army of the enemy coming into his camp without credentials; but eventually believing their statement, that they had missed meeting his messengers with the white flag, he sent them back with a letter to General de Villiers informing him that General Prinsloo had surrendered together with the whole of the Boer force. He asked General de Villiers to abide by what General Prinsloo had done, and warned him that any movement on his part would be regarded as an "act of war."

While this was taking place, another messenger had been sent in the opposite direction to General Hunter, to obtain further information regarding the surrender. This messenger was met by Commandant Visser, who immediately sent him back with the assurance that General Prinsloo, not being Chief-Commandant, had in this whole matter acted without authority, that the surrender was illegal, and that no one was to consider himself bound by it. General Fourie, who had not yet reached the farm of Salamon Raath, also sent a despatch to the officers requesting that their men should take up positions.

When the men of Harrismith who had not gone out with Commandant Truter heard this, their joy was boundless, for they had been in great doubt as to what they should do; especially after General de Villiers had said during the course of the day that he, being included under the surrender of General Prinsloo, was not an officer any longer, and therefore left it to each burgher to act as he might think fit. Now, however, he again took the command, and ordered the burghers to go into the positions.

With shouts of joy, and singing the "Volkslied," they rode out to occupy the nek. But they got no farther than the house of Salamon Raath, for it appeared that no one else wanted to fight any more. Meanwhile a meeting was held by the officers present, and at that meeting there were Field-Cornets who said that neither they nor their men would fight any longer, declaring at the same time that the leaders, if they continued the struggle, would be guilty of needless bloodshed.

And so the positions remained unoccupied.

This made everybody there hopeless again, and now it appeared that there was nothing left but to remain there and surrender. General de Villiers called his burghers together, and thanked them for the services they had rendered to the State and for the attachment and kindness shown to his person. I also spoke a few words and declared amongst other things, that I could not believe that it was all over with our South African Cause, but if it were so, then it would be owing to our unwillingness. God would have wished to establish for us our independence, but we should have refused to earn it.

In the course of the day General Roux had ridden in the greatest haste to General Hunter to protest against the surrender of Prinsloo, on the ground of its being illegal: first, because he, and not Prinsloo, was the commanding officer; and secondly, because Prinsloo had in any case not acted in accordance with the resolution taken by the Council of War on Friday night. General Roux, as might have been expected, did not return.

The only two Generals who were beyond the circle of mountains which surround Oldenberg, and who could have proceeded onward, were Generals P. Fourie and C. T. de Villiers. They agreed to remain where they were for that night, not far from the house of Mr. Salamon Raath, in order to ascertain on the following day what General Roux had been able to do; but before dawn of the following day, General de Villiers heard that General Fourie had gone away without saying a word about it[4] Great was the indignation of General de Villiers. He immediately ordered his men to inspan and saddle their horses. We hurried away, and I arrived at Harrismith in the evening, after two of the saddest weeks of my life. How dejected I felt. How sad was my wife. How dark the future seemed to be.

CHAPTER IV
TO PRESIDENT STEYN AND GENERAL DE WET

I had felt very much discouraged on the farm of Mr. Salamon Raath. There I had thought that all was lost—at any rate as far as the commandos behind Nauwpoort were concerned. There is no doubt that the burghers noticed it in my behaviour, and inferred it from my language.

There was indeed much to cause this melancholy state of mind: the disposition of the burghers to retreat, the discouraging words of some officers, the expressive silence of others; and when we heard at last that matters had reached a climax in the unconditional surrender of General Prinsloo, the coup de grÂce, so to speak, was given to my hopes.

I of course attached no importance to the braggadocio of those who loudly declared that Prinsloo ought to be shot, while they themselves were the most unwilling to go into positions, or deserted those positions on the bursting of the first shells there. They could not rectify matters by boasting, nor did it give me any assurance of a brighter future. But on the morning after I awoke at Harrismith I felt more sanguine; and it grieved me that I, who had always spoken words of encouragement, should have shown signs of despondency; and I felt now that I ought to stand by those who wanted to continue the struggle, and remain with them till the end, come what may. I recalled also what I had written to the President not long before, namely, that it was my intention to attach myself to those who would rally round him at the last, if it became necessary. Now, as Olivier, Hasebroek, and others had decided to go to the President and General de Wet in order to be reorganised, I decided to go too. If the struggle had to be given up, let our Government give it up.

In order to carry out this resolution, I rode away from Harrismith early next morning, in order to proceed to Zwart Klip, the farm of General de Villiers, and with him to accompany the commandos that had escaped, in their search for the President and General de Wet. That morning I reached the farm of Mr. Matheus MarÉ. As, however, the English did not on that day arrive at Harrismith, I returned in the evening to spend another night with my family. But this could not be, for I found there were straggling bands from the commandos in town who were taking horses out of the stables, whether they belonged to friend or enemy; and I saw that if I wanted to make sure of a horse to ride, it would be better not to trust to the chance of finding my horses in the stable at daybreak. Therefore, when de Villiers and some others resolved to leave Harrismith immediately, I determined to do the same and accompany them. So at midnight between the 1st and 2nd of August 1900, I parted from my wife and children, and proceeded to the farm of Mr. Stephanus Schoeman. On the following day I obtained from Mr. Schoeman the loan of a strong pony (on the previous day I had got an excellent horse from Mr. Adriaan Dolebout); and we rode away.

On the way to Zwart Klip we passed the commandos, and heard that English officers had followed the burghers with a white flag, and advised them to surrender. These messengers were sent back with the answer that the burghers had no intention whatever of doing any such thing. On the way I met two of our principal men, who had hitherto been amongst the warmest supporters of our cause, but whose names I shall not here record. They were in no very hopeful mood, and it seemed to me that very little was needed to induce them to go and lay down their arms.

This did not tend to cheer me; but I was encouraged somewhat when later in the day I spoke to Jan Jacobsz, Louw Wepener, and others, and noticed how firmly resolved they were to continue the struggle.

On the following day a meeting of Harrismith burghers was held at Molen River bridge. At that meeting it was resolved to send the English Generals a letter informing them that it was our opinion that, for the reasons already stated, we regarded the action of General Marthinus Prinsloo in surrendering himself with the whole of the force as illegal; also that it was our firm resolve to continue the struggle. Further, General de Villiers was enjoined to commandeer the Harrismith burghers anew. This he did that same afternoon, and sent one "commandeer list" with Mr. Jacob van Reenen to Field-Cornet Gert Pretorius, and another with Piet Grabe to Assistant Field-Cornet Johannas Loots. In the evening we heard that the enemy were at Glen Lennie on their way to Harrismith, and that a patrol had already reached the town commonage. We then knew that before the sun would set once more our town would be in possession of the English. There remained, therefore, nothing for us to do but to make the last preparations for taking our departure. Everything was made ready that same evening, and early next morning we proceeded to join the other commandos.

Here it must be noted that there were many in the district of Harrismith who regarded these commandos with the greatest contempt, and who indulged in very strong language regarding them. These commandos were—so they said—very uncontrolled, taking everywhere what they wanted from shops and farms.

It was further alleged that they thought of nothing but running away; and it was argued that this was proved not only by the fact that they had retreated from Nauwpoort, but also by their contriving to avoid the enemy even after they had escaped from the mountains.

This was the excuse which many of the burghers of Harrismith gave for surrendering a few days later. They were, they declared, unwilling to accompany and act with a band of robbers; and thought it better to lay down their arms immediately than to carry, and not fight with them.

The answer to this is not far to seek. That the commandos were demoralised was evident; no one with his eyes open could doubt this. But now they went to their President and Commander-in-Chief! Why? Was it not for the sole and only purpose of getting breathing-time?—to get reorganised? And was it not therefore the duty of everyone to join those who were going to the Government for that purpose? Surely no burgher had the right to turn his back upon his Government, whilst it was still in existence, and whilst the road by which to reach it remained open.—By not doing this they made themselves guilty of desertion.

This weighed heavily with me, and although I saw much in the burghers that I most strongly disapproved of, and although I had myself not yet wholly regained my former hopefulness, I could not regard the matter from any other point of view than that, so long as the President had not surrendered, I could not do so either, and that it was my duty to stay with those who did not intend doing so. And thus it occurred that I began a journey, which was to last twenty-one months, on Saturday, the 4th of August 1900.

I was one of a small company of which General de Villiers was the chief person. He did not at that juncture enjoy a very high reputation, because there was no lack of persons who declared that he had not acted in good faith at Nauwpoort, and that he had been in league with the enemy. I was convinced of the contrary, and remained in his company. I had enjoyed his hospitality when all went well with him, and now I would not desert him when his sky had become clouded.

We reached the commandos at Gwarri Kop, near Cornelius River, and we learnt there that messengers from the British had again come to insist upon our surrender.

How much trouble did the Generals to whom Prinsloo had surrendered not take to induce us to desert! What noble work it was for warriors to do! If the English had succeeded in this the war would have been brought to an end, without their having the trouble of fighting any more. But what would Lord Roberts have thought of it if our positions could have been reversed, and if we had sent messenger upon messenger to his discouraged and weary subordinates and soldiers to persuade them to be unfaithful to their country and their flag? Our leaders were steadfast, and sent the English officers back with the message, that not only had we no intention of surrendering, but that we also did not wish to receive any more messengers with similar proposals.

The following day, being Sunday, I held a service in the house of Mr. David de Villiers, at Holspruit, and then rode to the commando to see if I could be of any use there. But that faithful Free Stater, the student MacDonald, was just busy holding service. I was greatly edified and comforted by his interpretation of the words, "I will lift mine eyes to the hills from whence cometh my help!"

During the week we heard from our President. His letter was in answer to a report, despatched immediately after the Nauwpoort affair, informing him of the state of affairs. He expressed himself deeply grieved at the surrender, and appointed General P. Fourie as Acting Chief-Commandant. He also mentioned that many burghers had taken up arms again, and urged us to come to him as speedily as possible. A few days after this, Judge Hertzog came to us. He said that he had been sent to lead us to the President and the Chief-Commandant, and brought us the latest news from the Transvaal.

We now travelled a long distance every night, halting during the day. Our way of "trekking" was to begin at nightfall and to continue till about midnight or two o'clock in the morning, and then to tie the oxen to the yokes and hobble the horses. This "trekking" was not pleasant; for the weather continued bitterly cold, and to remain in the saddle almost the whole night with icy cold feet was certainly not enjoyable. But it had to be done, and no one grumbled.

Our laager was by no means perfect, as may well be imagined. We consisted of small numbers from almost every district of the Orange Free State, and were not used to each other. Moreover, there were too many officers. There were generals without commandants, and commandants with hardly any men. Under these circumstances one can well understand that there existed but little cohesion amongst us, and that the burghers committed excesses of which they would not have been guilty had the laager consisted solely of burghers from one district. It thus happened that some wasted their ammunition by firing it away at game, and through carelessness the veld was set on fire almost daily. This continued until by stringent measures and heavy fines the delinquents were deterred. One instance of a sad veld fire occurred on the 11th of August. It began at a spot where a camp-fire had been lit, and might have resulted in the destruction of a large portion of the laager. It was quite calm when we rose that morning, but soon the wind began to blow. The storm raged more and more fiercely, and somebody said that if no order were given to put out all fires in the laager there was danger for the veld. This had hardly been said when someone shouted, "The veld is on fire!" Everything was now in commotion to leeward of the wind. Tents were pulled down, and the burghers hurriedly removed their saddles, bedding, and whatever they could, across the road to a place of safety. Some dragged the waggons by hand out of danger, and others ran about with sacks to extinguish the fire; but all did not assist in the attempt to extinguish the flames—only those who were in danger—the others looked on at the fire with colossal indifference, and went on roasting their meat or doing whatever they were busy with, as if there was no danger at the other end of the laager. But how great was the danger there! Each burgher redoubled his energies and did his utmost. All, however, would have been in vain, and a portion of the laager would inevitably have been destroyed if there had not fortunately been a narrow road between us and the fire. Besides, by a lucky chance there was the hide of an ox which had been slaughtered that morning. This was dragged across the fire, and wherever it was drawn it extinguished the flames; and in this way the laager was saved from destruction. But it was just as impossible to stop the conflagration as it is to stem the strong current of a river in flood. The flames sped onward, and soon all the veld to the east was black. Subsequently we heard of great damage done by this fire, and that lives had even been lost. What mischief had we not done by our unpardonable carelessness,—and we had always taken it so much amiss when the British troops had set fire to the veld!

The wind continued blowing all day, but died away in the evening. We then inspanned according to custom, and "trekked" onward to the banks of the spruit named Klip River, six miles east of Heilbron.

We now hoped to reach the laager of General de Wet shortly, as it had been in the vicinity of this town when Judge Hertzog had left it.

The following day, being Sunday, Mr. MacDonald and I held religious services in different parts of the laager.

We learnt in the course of the day that a considerable force of British was barring our way. This forced us to draw back some distance. We proceeded far into the night, and on Monday morning we were just as far south of Heilbron as we had been east the day before. It then began to seem doubtful if we should meet the President and General de Wet as speedily as we had hoped, not only because the English were in our front, but also because our scouts told us that we might expect a British force in our rear, coming with the road from Bethlehem towards Heilbron. Messages were, however, sent to General de Wet, and from him also tidings were received from time to time.

On the following day, Tuesday, 14th of August, it appeared that we should come in contact with the enemy. The force which was marching along the road from Bethlehem to Heilbron was coming nearer and nearer, and we came in collision with it not far from Vecht Kop of "voortrekker" fame, where Sarel Celliers had frustrated the Matabeles in 1837 in their attempt to take his laager. The British trekked along between the ridges, where our men had taken up positions, and this kop. At twelve o'clock our guns opened fire on the enemy, which was fiercely responded to by the English cannon. Our burghers held the positions they occupied till late in the afternoon; but when the enemy's infantry advanced in strong force from the front, and the burghers, who held a position on a pointed hillock to the right, gave way, the men who fought in the centre were forced to retire. They did this under a hail of bullets, and it is a miracle that many were not killed. Only one was wounded there; but altogether we lost three dead and seven wounded on that day.

We were not elated over this result, but according to what we heard a month later, the loss of the English was greater than ours. It appeared that the enemy's purpose was to reach Heilbron, for we were not pursued, and after dark we proceeded in a south-westerly direction.

It now speedily became evident that we should not reach the President for some time. Word had come that he and General de Wet had taken refuge in the Transvaal, and that they were being pursued by an enormous force.

Our officers decided to act according to circumstances: to oppose the enemy wherever it was practicable, or to retire whenever we were forced to do so; but in all cases steadfastly to remain under arms. We had done our utmost to reach our President and Chief-Commandant, and had failed. But the short time of respite which had elapsed since the affair at Nauwpoort had exerted a beneficial influence on all, for we were now more and more convinced that, whether we reached the Chief of our State or not, surrender was not to be thought of as long as our Government existed.

CHAPTER V
WANDERING

Our trek to Heilbron had borne good fruit, not only in that it had freed us from the baneful influence which the surrender at Nauwpoort had caused, but we had also learned to know each other better. The heterogeneous elements of the laager became more and more homogeneous. It seemed quite natural that there should be one man in command. At his bidding we trekked, and at his command we halted. By degrees we became used to discipline, a clear proof of which was the fact that no one fired unnecessary shots, or set the veld on fire.

From Vecht Kop we trekked in a south-westerly direction. We pursued this course the whole week till we got near Ventersburg, keeping about eighteen miles away from the railway line. How endless these night marches in the depth of winter seemed. The waggons that brought up the rear seldom reached the camping-place before two or three o'clock in the morning. The least delay in front affected each vehicle in the rear. When a ford was reached a halt was called to see how things looked there, and then the whole trek behind was kept waiting, and in this manner from two to five minutes were always lost. The next waggon then reached the ford, and the same thing was done over again. Again the waggons behind had to wait, with a similar loss of time. When a waggon got stuck the delay was even longer. Then, in addition, a fearful commotion arose. There was dreadful shouting and yelling before the Kaffirs could convince the oxen that they had to get the waggon out by hook or by crook.

This slow progress was inexpressibly tedious, and we resorted to all sorts of contrivances to beguile the time. I sometimes would ride on ahead, and then with my horse's bridle over my arm would sit or lie down on the grass till the last waggon had passed, when I would again ride on and wait; or else I would walk leading my horse, in order to warm my feet. In this manner the time passed till, to my delight, I saw lights in the distance, which proved to me that a portion of the laager had already reached the halting-place. When at last I arrived there, a piece of meat was half-broiled on the coals and heartily relished. How it looked, and how much of the ashes adhered to it, could not be seen in the dark; but this made no difference, for the long trek in the cold winter night had sharpened our appetites.

During this week we crossed Rhenoster River, and one morning at two o'clock we arrived at Doornkloof. Later in the day I had the pleasure of visiting the farm of that stalwart "voortrekker," Sarel Cellier. Thirty years before I had as a boy met him there alive and well. It was a pleasure to me now to be able to pass a short time there with his widow. But it struck me painfully how troublesome the burghers were to the women on the farms. The house was constantly so full that there was no place for everyone to sit down. They were continually going and coming, and asking for this and that. "Has Tante (Aunt) any dried fruit for sale?" "Do bake for me; I will give you the flour." "Auntie can make bread or vetkoek (dampers) of it, just as you think fit." "Can't Auntie have my clothes washed?" When I heard this I said, "My dear man, do as I do—wash your own clothes." And yet how could I blame others for being troublesome when I had on one occasion got a loaf of bread from that house myself? I feel, however, that I need not plead guilty, for I very seldom went into the houses. Sometimes, as on this occasion, I went to see acquaintances. At other times the occupants of the house had heard that I was in the laager and invited me into the house. But as a rule I did not go to farms.

When we were at Doornkloof the question persistently presented itself to me: Where in the world are we going to? for we did nothing but wander from one place to another; so at least it seemed to me. I made a note in my diary to the following effect: "Not with levity nor irreverently do I call to mind the first words of the hymn—Whither, pilgrims, whither go ye?" We turn to the north and then to the south and—

"You are running away!"

Very well, we were running away, if you wish. What of that? Don't we keep the war going in this way? The English imagine they have conquered us. This is far from being the fact. They have occupied the towns, but they are not in possession of the country. They have annexed the Republic, but not the people. Their troops march out in overwhelming numbers wherever they wish, east and west, from one town to another, and we cannot prevent them, but we remain in the field nevertheless; we are still free. We turn to the right and to the left, and our adversary is not able with all his cannon to prevent it. In this way we keep the war going, and increase the expenditure day by day. In this way we worry our adversary; and thus we hope—the weak against the strong, like the widow and the unjust judge in the parable—to force the stronger to yield to our importunity. In the evening we trekked as usual; late at night we crossed the bridge over the Valsch River.

On the following day a sad duty fell to my lot. A Kaffir had for the rape of a white girl been condemned to death by the Council of War, and I was called upon to prepare him for death. During all my professional duties I had never had the spiritual charge of a man condemned to death. Although he deserved his sentence, in my opinion more even than if he had been guilty of murder, I could only regard him in this his last hour as a fellow-man. All sense of condemnation was effaced, only pity remained—pity for his total helplessness. Although he acknowledged that he deserved death, he asked me if I could do nothing to obtain his pardon; and when I told him there was no hope, he still kept urging me to try and move the officers to inflict some other punishment. As a mouse in the claws of a cat struggles in vain to get free and yet continues struggling, so he, hoping against hope, struggled against the inexorable.

Could he not be released? At length he resigned himself. I spoke to him of Jesus and prayed with him. After a short time he was led away to his grave, and standing in it he laid his hand on my shoulder and repeated the words of a prayer after me. I hurried away from the spot, but before I reached the laager a volley announced that all was over in this world with that human being.

The following day was Sunday. We were not far from Ventersburg. Shortly after divine service some burghers went out against a patrol of the enemy, cornered them in a kraal and took twenty-four of them prisoners. Amongst them were some officers and one person who claimed to be a doctor. As, however, he was found armed, he was held prisoner along with the rest. We had not yet commenced our evening trek, when I received from someone a note written by the Rev. R. H. Daneel, informing me that my wife had gone to Maritzburg to my parents.

This was a comfort to me, for I had always been uneasy about her. I subsequently found that the English had turned her out of the parsonage and put her over the border. On Monday evening after sunset we again proceeded. It was a miserably long trek. A delay occurred at a ford, and it was half-past three in the morning before we arrived at the outspan, which the foremost waggons had reached at twelve o'clock. Before we could lie down to rest it was already half-past four, and the morning star was shining on the eastern horizon. A trek or two more brought us to Doornberg, and Commandant Hasebroek went with a number of men to Ventersburg. He found the town empty,—that is to say, there were no troops there,—and he levied his usual tribute on the shopkeepers of coffee, sugar, meal, and other provisions.

CHAPTER VI
WHAT HAPPENED NEAR WINBURG AND AT LADYBRAND

When we had been at Doornberg for one day the Vrede Commando arrived and joined us. We now became a comparatively strong force, consisting of about 2000 men.

On the following day some men were sent from each of the commandos to assist Commandant Hasebroek, who had since the previous day been engaging about 150 of the English. These English had marched out of Winburg with two Maxims, and had taken up a position at the house of Mr. le Roux, not far from Doornberg towards the south-west.

Without being ordered, a large number of burghers left the laager on the following day to go and join the fight; and when I with several others arrived at the house of General Andries Cronje, I met numbers of them returning. They said there were already too many engaged against the English at le Roux's farm, and that they had been ordered to proceed to the Ventersburg road to oppose a possible reinforcement from that village, which had meanwhile been reoccupied by the enemy. As had been suspected, a number of the enemy had in reality advanced from that direction to help their friends, but they turned back when they saw our men, not, however, without burning down some houses on their way. From the east the burghers of Vrede also made their appearance, and pursued these troops; but when the enemy began to fire shrapnel at them, they ceased the pursuit and returned to the laager.

The English on the farm of le Roux had meanwhile been harassed by our men during the whole day both in a poplar-grove and around the farmhouse. We had two guns and a Maxim there, and with these they were bombarded continually. They were also within reach of our rifles. Our men approached the enemy in some cases to within three hundred yards, and so it came about that on our side four were killed and seven wounded. In the evening the matter was given up, and all our men retired to Laaispruit. Commandant Hasebroek had treated our burghers very kindly, and his house was not far from where the fight took place, and there his wife had provided many with food and a cup of coffee. Every burgher was full of praise for him.

The following day was Sunday, the 26th of August. Divine service was held at several places; and at nightfall 800 men marched out, with the object of taking Winburg, whilst the laager proceeded a little towards the south.

Commandant Hasebroek sent one of his sons to guide the burghers, whilst he marched on the town from another direction. Unfortunately these men delayed too long at a place where they went to sleep for a while. They arrived at their destination when it was already broad daylight. This was the reason that the whole thing turned out a miserable failure. On this account also the guns could not be properly posted. As was to be foreseen, our men were expected by the English, who were in good positions; and it frequently happened that our men were nearly surrounded, and had to retire. Here General Olivier was captured. He rode into a party of the enemy, and so little was he aware how matters stood that he took them for our people.

"Hands up!" they cried. He laughed, thinking it a joke on the part of his own men. But it was no joke, and Commandant Olivier had to lay down his arms. Commandant van Tender was with him, and was already disarmed, when he set spurs to his horse and raced away. A bullet cut through his sleeve, but he escaped to tell of the sad occurrence. The burghers returned in confusion to the laager, followed by small numbers of the enemy. The whole affair was a fiasco, and Winburg was not taken.

The enemy could do no more than drive our men back to the laager; but they avenged themselves for what had taken place at le Roux's farm, by burning down Commandant Hasebroek's house.

When we started in the afternoon clouds were rising in the west, and the thunder rolled. No rain, however, fell, but it was a sign that the worst of the cold weather was past and that spring had come. The sky remained clouded, and two days later, when we approached the little Vet River, it rained hard and continuously. The ground was soaked, and two months later, when we came along there as a mounted commando, we could still see the tracks our waggons now made in the mud.

During this week some waggons loaded with meal, coffee, sugar, sweets, and brandy were captured by our men. On the banks of the little Vet River the different articles were distributed to the men. Some Commandants acted, with regard to the brandy, in a sensible manner; others, not. In one instance the men drank immoderately, dipping pannikins into buckets which had been filled with brandy. General Fourie came upon one sad spectacle of drunkenness, and there and then poured all the liquor on the ground.

On Friday evening we had advanced as far as Allandale. Here it was resolved to rest a while, and a committee of officers went on ahead to select a suitable place at the foot of Korannaberg where the several commandos might encamp. On Saturday morning each commando went to the spot assigned it. How pleasant it was to trek onward after the rain. The showers had already had effect upon the veld, and the tender blades of grass were making their appearance. Everywhere one saw signs that Nature had once more awakened from her winter sleep, and it was delightful to gaze on the fresh green, on the branches of the willows and the soft pink of the peach blossoms. And irresistibly our hearts too were filled with a strong desire that thus too, after the winter of our discontent, the national life of our poor people might once more revive.

We were all encamped somewhat to the west of Korannaberg, and rejoiced at the thought that we, for a time at least, would no longer have to undertake endless night marches. But these pleasant thoughts could not be indulged in by all. Already some burghers out of every commando had been ordered to proceed that very evening with General Fourie to Ladybrand, for the purpose of taking that town.

Early on the 2nd September, after having ridden the whole night, the burghers attacked Ladybrand. The troops lying in garrison there immediately retreated to Lelyhoek, a beautifully cultivated rocky kloof near to the town. Without delay a heavy bombardment was opened upon the English, and kept up through the whole of the day with the two guns which General Fourie had taken with him. At nine o'clock General Visser was already inside the town—being the first of our officers who entered it, and at eleven o'clock some of our men captured horses and cattle and stormed the enemy to within six hundred yards. Somewhat later on twelve men advanced to within a few yards of the positions of the English; but had to retire not only on account of the enemy's severe fire, but also because some Krupp shells were being fired at them by our own gunners, who mistook them for English. During the day positions on all sides were taken up nearer to the enemy, behind the rocks above Lelyhoek, and behind the stone walls of the gardens in the town. A continual fire was kept up on both sides. The English also kept firing without intermission into the town, and some of us were hit there. Amongst others, one burgher was killed in the street near to the church. At nightfall the enemy had been driven out of Lelyhoek, and had sought shelter amongst the rocks a little higher up.

The same kind of fighting was kept up on Monday and Tuesday. A perpetual sound of rifle firing filled the air, overpowered every now and then by the roar of a Krupp shell that would make the rocks re-echo somewhere in Lelyhoek.

I arrived on the scene on the evening of the third day, and then I learnt that everything had to be abandoned, and that our people were preparing to retire at eight o'clock; the enemy might be forced to surrender within two or three days, but this could not occur before the arrival of a reinforcement which was advancing from Newberry's Mill. It was also feared that assistance might come from Ficksburg. I had therefore only an hour and a half at my disposal to visit my brother-in-law and his family. I walked quickly to the parsonage, got some information there regarding my wife, and then left the town along with the burghers.

Although the English garrison was not forced to surrender, our men had taken the town, and held it for three days. Our wants also had been provided for. As much clothing and food had been taken out of the town as could be carried away, and although General Fourie could not return completely victorious, he had no reason to be dissatisfied with the result of his expedition. We had, during the three days, to lament the loss of four killed and five wounded. What the English loss was we could not learn.

Well satisfied, we returned to the laager; but yet there was one thing that displeased me: it was that goods belonging to private persons had been taken. Of course, I do not refer to what was taken by the Government as the lawful prize of war; but to the spiders and horses belonging to individuals taken in the town. My feeling on this matter was so strong that I considered it my duty two days later, when a Council of War was held, to request the officers to see to it that their own resolutions and orders concerning this should be carried out.

CHAPTER VII
THE TREK FROM KORANNABERG TO GENERAL DE WET

We had heard from General de Wet. This was the reason for the meeting of officers two days after the taking of Ladybrand. General de Wet had ordered that the Harrismith Commando should proceed between Kroonstad and Rhenoster River, and should be employed along the railway line in interrupting the communications of the enemy, whilst the burghers of Vrede were to go to him—but without encumbering themselves with their waggons, and that the other commandos were to proceed farther west, everywhere taking the towns and appointing magistrates.

On Saturday, the 8th of September, we separated. From Commandant Hasebroek we parted at Korannaberg, whilst General Fourie hastened forward with 100 men to interview General de Wet personally. The order of General de Wet was not carried out by the men of Vrede and Harrismith. They considered that they could not do away with their waggons; but nevertheless resolved to proceed to the Chief-Commandant, and then, when they should arrive where he was, to act according to circumstances.

It was one of the most monotonous journeys imaginable. We were under the command of General Hattingh as Acting Chief-Commandant, and from the 8th to the 18th of September we did nothing but trek some distance every evening. We never travelled so late into the night as when we were going to Korannaberg, and, excepting that nothing occurred to afford an agreeable variety, the life was not an unpleasant one. One can understand that every excuse was seized for the enjoyment of some diversity, and so it happened that a most decided breach of discipline took place of firing shots contrary to the established rule of the commandos. The temptation came in the shape of "wilde beests" (gnus). One afternoon we reached a part of the country where that kind of game still existed in considerable numbers, and the temptation was more than some could resist. Wilde beests! those were animals about which our fathers had so often told us, and which the majority of us had never seen! Regardless, therefore, of the safety of the commando on the march some of the burghers fired at the game. The reports of the rifles frightened the horses, which had by now become frisky after the rest at Korannaberg, and the young grass they had eaten. Some of them broke loose, and bolted across the broad level plains, whither the owners pursued them like madmen. How angry they were with the delinquents! But it probably gave them some satisfaction when the officers, some days after, punished this transgression with a fine.

Proceeding on our way, we first heard that the enemy had hemmed in Commandant Hasebroek at Doornberg, and afterwards that he had escaped with the loss of nearly all his waggons and his field-guns. We heard later on that the enemy had been in strong force under General Hector MacDonald, and that Commandant Hasebroek escaped with all his men, but that General MacDonald had captured sixteen of his waggons at Vet River on the 13th, and eighteen at Doornberg on the 17th of September. The cannon, however, did not fall into the hands of the enemy. Commandant Hasebroek concealed them in a dam so as not to have the trouble of dragging about with him guns for which he had no ammunition. On Sunday, the 16th of September, we were not far south-west of Senekal. From there we trekked nearer to the town and then northwards; we crossed through Sand River and camped at Bretsberg. On the previous day several of the burghers had gone to the town, and many others intended doing so next day, in order to purchase what they required. But before they could do so, we heard that the English had entered the town from the direction of Zuringkrans, so suddenly that no one was aware of their approach. The men who were there escaped at the opposite end of the town just in the nick of time, and reported to us what had occurred. The laager had now to inspan hurriedly and trek, while a number of burghers hastened away in the direction of the town to oppose the English should they advance. The British fired from the forts at Senekal, and their shells burst on a ridge along which the laager was trekking out of town.

Great was the indignation at the want of vigilance displayed by the scouting corps in allowing the enemy to approach and take Senekal without being noticed; but after the captain had given an explanation, the council of war was satisfied and acquitted the corps of all blame. The enemy did no more than hurl shells at us, and we went our way unharmed.

On the 18th of September we had advanced to Modderfontein, where we were just twenty-four miles from Senekal, Ventersburg, Kroonstad, and Lindley respectively. An unpleasant surprise awaited us here. Early the following morning we heard rifle firing and the dud—dud—dud of a Maxim-Nordenfeldt, both directed against the scouting corps. The laager again trekked in great haste, while the burghers went to meet the enemy. Unfortunately the issue was not favourable as far as our losses were concerned, for two of our men were killed and three were wounded. The advance of the enemy was, however, stopped, and several of them were killed, wounded, and captured.

We now proceeded on our way in peace—unmolested by the English. We again crossed Valsch River, but this time somewhat farther up the stream. Leaving Lindley to the east, we passed through Rhenoster River by the same ford through which we had passed a little more than a month before when going south. The nearer we approached to where we hoped to meet General de Wet somewhere in the Heilbron district, the more fervently we longed to see him. Everybody thought that the Chief-Commandant would put everything right, and the days that intervened before we should see him seemed to pass all too slowly. At last (22nd September, Saturday) Vecht Kop came into view. In passing we gazed at it with varied emotions, for we seemed to see the laager of Sarel Celliers there, surrounded by Moselekatze's hordes. We seemed to hear their battle-cry and their fierce assault; we witnessed their repulse and the deliverance of the little laager. Then Vecht Kop disappeared behind us, and other thoughts swayed us as we rode over the positions where the fight of August 14 had taken place.

In the evening we outspanned on the farm of Petrus Schoeman and halted for the night, expecting to hear from General de Wet every moment. The following day was passed as usual, and at three o'clock the General rode into the laager. At five o'clock the burghers assembled to be addressed by the man whom all had longed so much to see since the unfortunate affairs at Nauwpoort. The officers presented him with an address, with which, however, he was not particularly pleased, saying that he was not very partial to addresses.

He then spoke to the burghers in his pleasant, clear, and pithy manner. He said that it was his firm conviction that God would help us, and would not allow us to disappear as a nation. But this belief should not make us careless; on the contrary, this conviction should be a spur to every man to do his share of the work. Every man should do his duty, which consisted in this, that each one should be prepared to sacrifice his all on the altar of Liberty: money, goods, comfort, life! As we were weak and our adversaries strong, the best way of fulfilling our duty would be to keep harassing them. This we should do by making provisions at Pretoria and Johannesburg dear, through continually interrupting their communications. Further, the waggons should be done away with—done away with immediately, and the burghers were to form separate mounted commandos. He then related to us some of his experiences when he was pursued by large British columns from Slabbert's Nek up to the bush veld, and how matters stood in the Transvaal, and what had taken place at the battle of Machadodorp. This address was listened to with rapt attention, but it soon became apparent that most of the men had not heard what they had wanted to hear.

On the following day a Council of War was held, General de Wet presiding, and his proposition concerning the abolition of the waggons, and of commandos acting independently, was accepted. In the afternoon the Commandants called their men together and made known to them what had been decided upon, at the same time commanding the burghers to free themselves from the encumbrance of their waggons immediately; and as to the Harrismith men—we, together with the Kroonstad burghers, were told to employ ourselves by breaking up the railroad and to interrupt the trains between Rhenoster and Sand River, our commanding officer was to be General Philip R. Botha.

One could immediately perceive by the grumbling in the laager with what dissatisfaction the commands of General de Wet had been received. It could not be done, many declared, and the burghers of one ward of a commando went the length of riding away immediately—not to lay down arms to the enemy, oh no, but to procure fresh horses in their own district, and to continue the war there. They had imagined De Wet to be quite a different sort of man, and that he would save the cause in quite another manner. They had thought that, like a deus ex machina, he would put all things right in a wonderful—a magical way. Instead of this we had in him a man whose motto appeared to be not "all will come right," but "all must be made right." Instead of lulling us to sleep to the tune of "Peace, Peace, live as comfortably as you can!" we had in him a leader who demanded much work and great sacrifices from us. We had not heard a lullaby, but a reveille sounding in our ears. And this was something so strange, after having fought for a year with no discipline to speak of, that at first many could not bear it. There were therefore those who were dissatisfied, and who said that these commands were impracticable, and a few even went the length of riding away from the laager, as I have already noted. The reason of all this is, that our poor Africander people could never, since the days of Piet Retief, recognise or follow a hero when he arose amongst us. But Christian de Wet was a strong man, and what he willed came to pass. On the following day most of the burghers packed their things, and prepared themselves to exist in the future as mounted commandos; while a small number, with weak and thin horses, separated from the others and formed a laager—which was immediately dubbed by the inventive faculty of the Africander mind, Ma'er Lager (Lean Laager). My son and I put what we thought most necessary into a corn-bag and wallets, tied our blankets in front of our saddles, and were ready to go with the mounted commando. The waggons disappeared over a rise with a rumbling noise, and we rode away in an opposite direction, the blue expanse overhead our only covering. I must admit that I was not in a very optimistic mood.

CHAPTER VIII
OUR EXPERIENCES AS A MOUNTED COMMANDO

It was on Tuesday, 25th of September, that we commenced our work as a mounted force. We rode on until we reached the farm where we had listened to the address of General de Wet. The enemy almost immediately drew our attention. On the other side of the hillock, of which I spoke in connection with the fight on the 14th of August, and on this side of Vecht Kop, a small English force were marching along the main road to Heilbron.

We occupied positions on this little hill and on the ridges to the south-west of it, whence we could see the English. After a while they halted in a hollow, and our cannon opened fire on them. Some confusion ensued, and several minutes elapsed before the English guns were brought into action and began firing on our Krupps. The odds were then too heavy, and our gunners were unable to continue the fight. They were obliged to remove the Krupp out of danger, and before nightfall all the positions were deserted. We halted for the night without off-saddling our horses, on the slopes of a ridge not far from Heilbron, and went early next morning where we expected the English to come along.

We reached a ridge, behind which the English were, but no one seemed inclined to take possession of it, as none knew what it looked like on the other side. General Philip Botha was not with us yet, and the officers who were with us did not lead the men up. They remained below merely urging them on. "Charge, you young fellows!" they cried; but as example is better than precept, they spoke in vain. Only about twenty-five men obeyed.

When these brave fellows gained the top, they opened fire on some British cavalry who had nearly reached the crest of the ridge, and forced them to retreat. They also forced the gunners of an Armstrong to abandon it. But at a distance of eight hundred yards there was another gun, and somewhat farther a Maxim-Nordenfeldt. There was a slight pause. Then the English began from there to bombard our men, and the shells fell not only on the ridge but also on the commando at the back. The brave twenty-five had to retire from the ridge, and the commando was scattered, retreating in confusion past the south of Heilbron, with shrapnel bursting right and left of them. A small number of burghers still made an effort to hold a kopje, but they were driven from it by the shells of the Maxim-Nordenfeldt. Wherever a horseman or a burgher was seen there the shells burst, and so the English paved their way to Heilbron, which they entered before noon. We came to a standstill at Klip River to the east of Heilbron. But not all the burghers stopped there, for so discouraged were a few that they rode away to their farms. General de Wet, who arrived on the scene after the fight, was very indignant about this, and immediately sent some burghers to compel them to return.

And here sat our party—there were five of us, General C. J. de Villiers, his son Christian, Andries Pretorius, my son, and I. Our party, I say, sat by a brook that was honoured by the name of river, and thought of our troubles. We thought also of the demands of Nature, and began to prepare some food. Whatever we might have to eat would be relished, for now for the first time since we had left the waggons were we able to boil some water. But let me here give a description of our manner of life. It can be easily understood that we could not carry much with us on horseback. We had, besides our blankets and some clothes, a kettle and an iron linseed-oil drum, with a handle made of wire. This drum had to do duty as cooking-pot. Besides this we also carried a saucepan. We had only three pannikins between us five, and two had to wait until two had finished. There were also a couple of little bags in which we carried our rations of meat, meal, salt, and coffee. In the drum the meat, and also the mealie-meal porridge, was cooked. The latter we ate together out of the pot, scooping it up with our clasp-knives, in the way the Kaffirs do with their wooden spoons. We afterwards saw that spoons answered better, and so made our own wooden ones. The meat we had to take up with our hands instead of with a fork, and we ate it from the lid of the saucepan or from a slice of bread.

At nights there was nothing but the canopy of heaven over us. Mostly the stars with their friendly light shone brightly on us from on high. Sometimes large masses of clouds floated between them and us, and hid their kindly light. Now and then all was swallowed up in utter darkness, while the thunder roared, and we were drenched to the skin. Whatever the weather might be we spread a skin or a blanket on the grass, with our saddles at our heads to ward off the wind, and slept sound till next morning. General de Villiers had a tanned ox hide with which, in accordance with the custom which had been followed by his father, he had provided himself, and I slept beside him on it. I was in good company. The kindness of General de Villiers and his party I shall never forget.

So things went on from day to day and from month to month; and how swiftly those days and months passed! However monotonous it seemed to exist from one moment to another, and however far off the future seemed, yet the time sped like the flight of an arrow, and the past was swallowed up in the present before we seemed to have time to realise it.

We halted for the night at the farm of Janneke. Next morning I went to sit under the trees to note down my experiences. It was a lovely day. Spring had like a mysterious incomprehensible force wholly changed the face of Nature. The brown grass had been changed to green; the trees were covered with young and tender leaves; the birds chirped in the branches, and the bees hummed around in the blossoms. How restful everything was there! How different from the previous day, when the cannon filled the air with dissonant shrieks, and the shells burst all about us. I could not realise that a terrible war was raging in our land. Everything was so still, so full of rest. Yet it was War, not Peace. Alas! what brought me, a man of peace in every sense of the word, on the field of battle?

On Saturday General Philip Botha joined us. He immediately took the command; but during the first days following, General de Wet had the direction of everything, until we were led by him across the railway, not far from Wolvehoek Station.

We had to travel fast to accomplish this, for news had come that the English were present in large numbers at Elandskop and other places. On Saturday night we rode till twelve o'clock. The following day we assembled for our usual divine service, and when it got dark we again proceeded. We travelled during the whole night. This was slow work on account of the cannon, the ammunition waggons, and a couple of trolleys carrying provisions. How sleepy I became now that we had to keep awake for two nights in succession. It seemed to me sometimes, as I sat on horseback, as if the broad brim of my hat were the roof of a big tent, of which, as sometimes happens when the weather is warm, the sides had been lifted, and that the burghers in front of me were moving on under its roof with a rhythmic motion. I had every now and then to look up to the stars in order to shake off the illusion. We had to wait now and then for those who lagged behind, and then we would throw ourselves on the ground and immediately fall asleep. How fortunate those people must be who have such strong constitutions that they can endure everything without sleep, and apparently never suffer from fatigue. There were such amongst us now. They were ever on the alert and woke up the slumbering ones when it was time to proceed again. Things went thus till daylight broke, when we crossed first the branch line from Wolvehoek to Heilbron, and then the main line. Some of our scouts paid a visit to an English guard and disarmed them.

We had thus fortunately got across the line with all our belongings—all except one or two waggons; among these an ammunition waggon remained behind. When the drivers came near the railway an armoured train had made its appearance, and so they had to turn back. Out of this train fire was opened on those who had already crossed, but no casualty occurred. But I had lost all my clothes. To spare my horses I had placed my little all on the ammunition waggon which remained behind, and now I had nothing more than what I had on and what was in my saddle-bag.

After we had been off-saddled for a while, General de Wet proceeded to Vredefort with his bodyguard. He invited me to accompany him, and I had the pleasure of being in his company for three hours. I asked myself, as I rode by his side, what could be the secret of his power? and it appeared to me that it lay in this—that while he was friendly to all, he was intimate with none. Moreover, as is the case with all great leaders of men, he was as reticent as the Sphinx.

In the afternoon we reached Vredefort. How pleasant it was to me to find myself once more in the house of a brother minister, between the four walls of his study, and to forget for a while the blue canopy of the skies above and the hills and dales below.

CHAPTER IX
ON THE WIDE PLAINS

Yes, I did enjoy it! To spend twenty-four hours in a house, for since the 2nd of August I had never slept under a roof. What luxury!—a soft bed and a bath in the morning. But how numerous are the demands of civilisation! I had of course to breakfast with the family, and there the table was laid with snowy linen and neatly folded serviettes.

Ah me! How did I behave after having had to manage with my clasp-knife on the grass for so long? Still, it charmed me. The old instinct again awoke. A fork was better after all than one's fingers, and sitting on a chair in the study than on an anthill in the veld. The transformation took place with lightning rapidity. I was myself again. This was my world. Out yonder I was a stranger, but here I was at home; and it was like being rent from a part of myself when at three o'clock I once more joined the commando.

We proceeded between the kopjes that surround Vredefort on the north-west. There beautiful scenery and the scent of the thorn-tree blossoms repaid me in some measure for the comforts I had to relinquish beneath the roof of the Rev. J. A. Joubert. But when at evening the hills and thorn-trees lay behind us on the horizon, and we had to lie down to rest by a dam on particularly large tufts of grass, I could well realise that something indeed had been sacrificed for the great cause of liberty and independence.

Here on the following morning General de Wet called the burghers together and read to them a notice which he had issued for the information of the enemy. This notice was to the effect that where troops were caught in the act of burning houses, and carrying off defenceless women and children, those troops would be shot.

He then asked me to address the men, as it was that day just a year since they had been commandeered. I complied, and took as my text the words: "If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning"; and presented the Israelite in his fervent patriotism as an example to them.

General de Wet immediately after left us with the commandos of Heilbron and Vrede, and we trekked away under General Botha in the direction of the Rhenoster River. Before nightfall we reached it, and found there a part of the Bethlehem Commando that had just returned from the bush veld, whither they had accompanied General de Wet. These burghers joined us, and we trekked along together, until, shortly after, they left us and proceeded to their own district. How delightful it was there in the densely wooded banks of the Rhenoster River. Great wild willows and old thorn-trees grew along the placid stream, and lent an inexpressible air of peace and rest to the place.

We stayed here for the night, lit great fires of the dry wood, and broiled meat as it can only be done on the live coals of thorn-tree wood. On the following day we departed from this beautiful spot, and soon the wide sand plains stretched around us, dreary in their monotony.

It is a wearisome thing travelling on these wilds. You see nothing but long, low, rolling undulations. In the distance there arises one like an immovable wave in an immovable sea. After an hour's ride—for a commando does not move rapidly—you have reached it, and then in the distance there is another exactly like the one behind you.

And yet, however much the wearied spirit seeks some change, and however dreary these wastes seem, they speak to the heart of him who understands their language. Abandoning oneself to their mysterious influence, one forgets that they are monotonous, as they whisper, softly as the evening breeze which wafts across their broad bosoms, of the Infinite. The mountains fill one with awe and veneration—even so the region where the horizon seems ever to be beyond one's reach.

On Friday, 5th of October, we were on the banks of the Valsch River and camped there. Some days after we trekked to the farm of Mr. B. Greyling. From there the commando went to the shop of Mr. Harvey at Otterspruit, but as it looked like rain, I accepted the kind invitation of Mr. Greyling, and remained under his roof for the night. We stopped at Harvey's shop on Sunday and Monday, and a few burghers were punished there because they had entered the shop and helped themselves to what they thought they wanted. We had a man in command who allowed no irregularities, and the discipline in the commando was perfect. Here I washed my clothes myself, as I had to do often later on. As I had no change, I had to remain at the spruit until what I had washed had got dry. I thought of the future with misgivings. "What should we eat, and what should we drink?" did not trouble me; but "wherewithal should we be clothed?" that filled me with uneasiness. We had, as we were marching along, heard occasionally that everywhere in the State the civil administration of the English had ceased. The patrols of two or three mounted police did not visit the farms any more. Nor were any taxes collected any more from the Boers on their farms or the Kaffirs in their kraals. Since the time about the taking of Ladybrand, it had begun to be impossible for small numbers of the English to go from farm to farm, and to carry out the kind of government which obtains when there is peace in a country. If they wanted now to go from district to district they could not do so otherwise than in numbers of about 1000 men, and always with cannon. This was a new proof to us that it was impossible for England to fight us on an equal footing. We were far from being conquered.

It soon became evident that we were going to come in contact with the enemy, for, not far from us upon a hillock to the south-east of Kopje Alleen, a force moved now and again out from Kroonstad. This little hill lay on our road to the railway, and it was desirable that we should not be prevented there from carrying out the object we had in view. General Botha therefore advanced in that direction on Monday evening. On the following day it was discovered that there were no English on the hill, and a patrol was left there.

In the evening the commando went to the farm of old Mr. Delport, where we remained five days, for it was General Botha's intention to begin his real work of interrupting the communications here. On the following night, therefore, he proceeded to the railway, and broke it up not far from Ventersburg Road Station.

I was glad to be able to remain here some days, because, as my son was ill, he could thus remain under the care of Mrs. Delport and her daughter. When we left he was well again. I owe much gratitude to this kind family.

On Sunday, the 14th October, a fight took place. I had held services first for the Harrismith, and then for the Kroonstad men, and had just returned from the latter when a report arrived from the patrol on the hill that a number of English had driven them away and taken possession of the kopje. General Botha immediately advanced against them, whilst a small number of burghers went with the trolleys we had to the farm of Mr. Taljaart. General Botha attacked from two sides, and after a short fight drove the English from the kopje to the camp at Ventersburg Road Station.

The loss of the English was estimated at four dead and thirteen wounded, and two were taken prisoners. We had no casualties. The following day we went to the beautiful farm of Mr. Hendrik Delport. He had created an oasis in the dreary sand flats. It was refreshing to see the green willows growing here on the wall of the dam, and to walk beneath the healthy fruit trees of the garden. We camped beside the dam wall, and enjoyed the pleasure of being protected by the shade of the willow-trees from the burning rays of the sun.

That night, whilst we were wrapped in peaceful slumbers under the trees, we were awakened by the wild sound of horses' hoofs. My first idea was that it was the enemy making a night attack upon us. I expected every moment to hear the report of rifle shots, and visions of imprisonment arose in my mind. There was a Commandant ill in a waggon which Mr. Delport had hidden between the trees. He put out his head through the waggon-flap and asked his sons—

"Children, what is this?"

It was not the enemy! It had been our own horses which had rushed panic-stricken to our laager. What it was that had frightened them nobody knew, but it was supposed to have been some game that had come to drink at the dam.

Repos ailleurs! it was not to be our lot to rest for long, or to remain for any length of time under the shade of the green willows. The next day a report came that "Khaki"—the word was often used without an article—was coming, and some burghers again went to meet them. But it was only five or six of the enemy who were reconnoitring, and our burghers drove them back to their camp. On the day after a considerable number came out with cannon. General Botha ordered the commando to retire, which we did in the direction of Hoopstad. It was not long before the enemy attacked our rearguard, but they were driven back with a loss of fifteen dead and wounded; while, on our side, one man was wounded, and General Botha got a scratch on the hand. Our burghers, seeing the enemy retiring, became rash and charged. The results might have been disastrous for us, for reinforcements with a gun and a Maxim unexpectedly turned up, and our people were very nearly surrounded.

General Botha then had to retire. To continue the fight against superior numbers, armed, moreover, with guns, was not to be thought of, and he resolved to outwit the English. He therefore marched till far into the night in the direction of Hoopstad, and the English followed us.

What difficulty I had to get my bearings on those wide level plains, with no kopje or mountain to serve as beacons! I knew very well that we were proceeding in a north-westerly direction, yet it seemed to me as if we were going due north. What surprised me exceedingly was that the burghers never seemed to be at a loss. They always knew the direction, north, east, south, or west—they could instantly say where these lay.

"Where is east?"

"There!"

"Where must we look for Harrismith?"

"Yonder!"

"Bloemfontein?" "There!"

Just lay your map open on the grass to-morrow and see if they were not right. It is because their view has not been narrowed by maps. The four winds of heaven are their compass, the stars their beacons.

The following night we marched until it was very late, and had to wait as usual for the waggons. During these halts the men flung themselves on the ground, and invariably fell fast asleep. When the order came to mount there was sometimes a little confusion. A lad of sixteen, who was still half-asleep, mounted his horse; a thud as of something soft falling on the ground was heard. As it was very dark, we did not know what it meant; but some close by explained that the boy, poor fellow, not being well awake, instead of getting astride, had got right over his horse and landed on the other side. When we had proceeded to thirty miles from Hoopstad, we turned suddenly on the third night at such an acute angle that our route ran almost parallel with that by which we had come. On the following morning we reached the shop of Jelleman, and learned during the course of the day that the English were still persistently following up their original course. They had not then adopted the flying-column system, and went on with their encumbrance of large convoys, with an impetus very much like that of an elephant which, when charging, cannot make a short turn. This enabled General Botha to carry out his manoeuvre successfully.

The following day was Sunday, the 21st of October. We were then at the farm of Mr. Singleton on the way back to the railway. It was a lovely day, and very refreshing to hold service there under the trees at a dam. Here an attack had been made on us the previous night, which we had been unable to resist. I shall describe it. There had been a strong wind the day before with signs of rain, and we had prepared ourselves as well as we could for a wet night. But it did not rain—something else happened: an attack—oh, that the muse of Aristophanes inspire me while I record this—an attack of frogs! We had lain down to sleep near the dam, and shortly after we had retired to rest the frogs came out of the water. Perhaps the strong wind, causing a movement in the waters, had sent them forth. They came in large numbers and leaped about to their hearts' content. Here one tumbled on the blanket of a sleeper, there another placed his wet feet on the face of another, and you heard screams in the darkness, as of persons shrinking back from cold baths. It was thought that the attack could be repulsed by blows from hats and boots. But the amphibious enemy had not the least inclination to sound the retreat. They unceasingly renewed the attack, and were continually being supported by fresh reinforcements from the dam. The issue at length hung in the balance, and the shame of a possible defeat filled us with apprehension. Woe is me! The human beings retreated. Here one man snatched up his bedding and fled—and there another. I must record it. Our warriors lost the battle, and were forced to evacuate their positions before an attack of—Frogs!!

In the afternoon we proceeded. Nothing of interest took place. Each day we travelled some distance. The red sand of the desert was in evidence, and the level plains remained as dreary as ever. It was very dry, and the heat was often very fatiguing. Water was procurable from dams and wells only; the water of the former was often dirty, and that of the latter brackish. We had often to drink where our horses drank, and where the geese and ducks swam. On one occasion, after we had boiled our small kettles and drunk our corn coffee, we heard that we had made coffee with the water of a dam in which shortly before some 400 soldiers had bathed! How dreary it is to be in a country where there are no springs and no streams.

In the course of our wanderings through the sandy plains we came to the farm of a man named Stiglingh, and there I saw for the first time what a farm looked like where the English had burnt down the house.

There stood the walls with black borders to the doors and windows and along the gables, proving that the building had been a prey to the flames. The tops of the trees before the house were scorched, and a vine lay half torn from the wall against which the owner had trained it. It was dreadful within to go from room to room and view the total destruction there. The heaps of ashes showed that the devastation was complete.

And what was the effect of this spectacle on the burghers?

Fear? Dismay?—No, resistance! Everyone who contemplated the ruins only felt the more deeply the wrong that was done to our people. Here was a nation which prided itself on its love of freedom, depriving a little people of their independence; and doing this in the most cruel manner, robbing them of their cattle and destroying their dwellings. Indignation and a sterner resolve to resist were aroused by the sight of the ruin. Those black borders round the gaping windows and doors conjured us not to lay down our arms and beg for mercy; no, but to keep the war going. The enemy had shattered all hopes of reconciliation.

I will describe how the house-burning was generally done. A burning party of the British came on a farm, and the soldiers would begin by chasing the poultry about and killing them. The officer in command immediately gave the occupants a short time to carry out food and clothing. The time given was usually so short that they were still busy carrying out things when the flames would burst forth. The incendiaries generally put the chairs and benches on the dining-room table, tore down the curtains from the windows and stuffed them in between the chairs. Then paraffin oil was squirted over everything, and the light applied. Soon dense clouds of smoke arose and the house was in flames.

The head of the house here—so his wife told me—was ill when the burning took place. Notwithstanding that he was taken prisoner. His wife—for the English had not yet begun to capture women—had to take refuge in an outhouse and stable with her children, where I found her, subsisting on meat and mealies.

We left this farm in the afternoon with the object of crossing the railway that night. Kopje Alleen soon hove in sight, and we passed it, leaving it on our right.

Kopje Alleen! Is there elsewhere on earth a geographical object so insignificant, but glorying in such world-wide fame, as thou. O Kopje Alleen! I call to mind how, thirty years ago, I heard of thee, and travelling towards thee, I counted the days which would pass before I should behold thee, and be filled with admiration. At last thou didst loom on the horizon! But I could not believe that it was thou, Kopje Alleen, whose fame had spread far and wide—thou mere mole on the face of the veld. But a cripple is an easy first among lame people; and here thou standest, monarch of the undulations of the sandy plains.

The thorn-trees here, the red sand in the road, the hard tufts of grass in the veld, all reminded me of the neighbourhood of Kimberley—and I was not surprised to learn that the diamond mine of Mr. Minter was close by.

Having off-saddled a little while near the flat hill where there had been a fight the week before, we went on in order to cross the line before daybreak. What sensations arise within one when such a task has to be undertaken. Will there be patrols of the enemy on the line? will shots be fired? will there be confusion? These are questions we ask ourselves. But we must suppress our emotions, and whatever there may be in store for us we must be prepared for everything.

This night march was similar to the others. We saw the Southern Cross shining in the skies. In the east there rose first the Pleiades, then Orion, then Sirius, and still we went on and on; but how slowly, owing to the waggons and carts lagging far behind. The sky above was constantly changing. The Southern Cross which had set rose again, and at last Sirius shot down his rays perpendicularly upon us, and yet we had not reached the railway line. And then, to our high-strung nerves how loud seemed every sound in the stillness of the night,—the order had been given that we should proceed in the greatest silence, but what a noise the trolleys and carts made, and how loudly the pots and pans which were carried on the carts and pack-horses sounded; and oh! why did those three foals whinny so incessantly? We felt sure that the English had become aware by all these noises of our coming, and were waiting for us at the line.

Thus three parts of the night passed away. "How far is it still?" we asked. "Half an hour!" is the reply. After half an hour we ask again, "And how far is it now?" "Three-quarters of an hour!" Suddenly a sharp point of light glints in the east. It must be a patrol fire. No, it is the morning star, and before long the rosy dawn begins to tint the eastern horizon! After all, we shall not reach the line before daylight.

But there the leading horses are beginning to halt at a little gate. We reach it and pass through. The horses grind small stones under their hoofs. In the twilight we see two rails pass under us—we have crossed the railroad!

There were no English to hinder us in our march over, and from the side of Ventersburg Station, where their camp was, they could not now advance, because our corps of scouts had at midnight destroyed the line between them and us. General Botha now restricted himself to breaking down the telegraph poles, and destroying the wire for the distance of a thousand yards.

We now proceeded to the beautiful farm of Mr. Minter. Nothing happened excepting that shots were fired at some soldiers, who had gone out from the camp near the station to reconnoitre.

When we crossed the railway we left behind the wide sandy plains, and we wished them farewell with all our hearts. General Botha intended now to make attacks on the enemy from the south side of the line.

CHAPTER X
VENTERSBURG

It had been extremely warm all the time we spent on the sand plains, and on the day that we crossed the railway line the heat was intense. In the evening a dark mass of clouds rose to the west. Lightning flashed from them, and we heard rolling in the distance. The burghers had to make preparations against the rain which would certainly fall. Blankets were spread on the ground, and those who possessed them spread their small canvas tents, remnants of those supplied them by the Government in the beginning of the war. Some had small patrol tents. As far as our party was concerned, we five crowded into a small Carbineer's tent intended for two. There we passed the night, half sitting, half lying, listening to the beating of the rain without. When we arose the following morning our limbs were so cramped that it seemed as if old age had suddenly overtaken us during the night.—Nothing causes more discomfort to a horse-commando than rain.

During this week we travelled a very short distance.

Towards the end of the week we were on the farm of Isaac Cronje. His wife and her sister showed great kindness to the men, and I was very glad to take refuge from the rain under her roof on Saturday night.

That evening—27th of October—General Botha went to the railway line with a number of burghers. Early in the morning he surprised the enemy in their camp at Ventersburg Road Station, and 120 soldiers were disarmed. While these soldiers were laying down their arms, one of them seized his rifle and fired on the burghers, wounding Assistant Commandant Jan Meyer in the arm and hand, and Burgher Nortje in the hand.

Just at this juncture a train was captured, and our men were busy taking from it what they needed and setting it on fire when an armoured train with a cannon bore down on them. The burghers were compelled to leave everything and to retreat in hot haste. Two other burghers were also wounded. I bandaged them, but as the wounds appeared to me to be rather serious I requested the General to call in the aid of Doctor Snijman of Ventersburg. The doctor was good enough to come, attended to the wounded men, and instructed me how to treat them further. The patients remained under my care until later on they got assistance from medical men.

The following day there was a report that the English were moving out from their camp. We rode out in the direction where they were said to be, but it proved to be a false alarm. However, it was seen that they were making such movements that General Botha deemed it necessary to order the whole commando to take up a position for the night, and the waggons were ordered southward early in the morning. Our burghers accordingly took positions on a ridge. When day broke they observed that the British were on the same ridge. What their object was we did not know.

The day was ushered in by a tremendous fire of small arms, and in between came the thunder of the British guns. A raking fire from both sides was kept up for half an hour, and our men managed to put the gunners of one of the cannon out of action. Unfortunately our right wing was in danger of being surrounded, and had to retire, with the result that the General could not profit from the success that had been gained on the left. Here again the positions had to be abandoned. On we went, without being followed up, to Paddafontein.

The burghers spent a very unpleasant time there. On the second day after we came it began to rain at sundown. Showers fell steadily for two nights and a day. What discomfort a mounted commando has to suffer while it rains. Some of the men have tents, only a few have carts, the rest, the majority, must manage as best they could. They get wet through from the drops falling from above, and when they lie down the water flows in below. And then there are the horses seeking shelter behind the carts and tents, treading mud puddles all over the camp. On the morning after the first night the General saw that the commando could not remain thus in the rain, and he ordered the officers to seek shelter for the burghers on the neighbouring farms. I had already found refuge in the house of Mr. Potgieter, and during the bad weather I passed a pleasant time with the books of Mr. Fairclough, the schoolmaster there. Our wounded also found shelter here.

At this place I found that there were six or seven families of fugitives from the burnt-down houses. Amongst them there was a woman who had recently given birth to a child in the open veld, when along with other women she sought shelter, after her house was burnt. On Monday the burghers reassembled; General Botha had meanwhile been about everywhere in the neighbourhood. He had seen many burnt-down houses. They also showed me a notice signed by General Bruce-Hamilton, which had been posted on the houses that had been destroyed; General Bruce-Hamilton said in this notice that he had "partially" burnt the town Ventersburg and also the farms in the neighbourhood, because the Boers had made attacks upon the railway. The "Boer women," so ran this notice further, "should apply to the Boer commandants for food, who will supply them, unless they wish to see them starve!"

In the evening we proceeded to Lools Spruit where at one glance I saw no less than six burnt-down houses.

The following day, the 6th of November, I went with General Botha to Ventersburg. It was sad to pass through the burnt-down part of the town, and to see the houses roofless, and with gaping doors and windows.—And what effect had it all?

The burning of the town and the farmhouses near the railway did not stop the burghers from attacking the lines of communication of the English. Our people would not in this way be forced into submission. Even upon the women this action had not the effect which the enemy contemplated. I met several of them in the town, they were calm and resigned under their severe sufferings, and told me that they had, on the evening before the fire, held a prayer-meeting, and that they had been supported and consoled by God in a wonderful manner. The period of the forcible removement of our women into concentration camps had not yet come, and now there were many women at Ventersburg requiring support. For this purpose, General Botha had sheep and wheat sent to them. He left them in charge of Mr. Albert Williams. They could not have been intrusted into better hands. He was an honest and energetic man, and possessed, moreover, a heart ever open to the weak and suffering; unfortunately he was killed in a fight a few months after. I felt his death very keenly, and it is now a sad consolation to me to have been able to speak of his fine, unselfish character.

We remained in the neighbourhood of Ventersburg until the following Sunday, when I held service for the women there; and in the afternoon we went on our way, with the object—although that was as yet unknown to the burghers—of proceeding to the Cape Colony. Some days before we began our journey our company was temporarily broken up by the departure of General de Villiers to the district of Harrismith. As he was suffering from an internal complaint, which made it difficult for him to ride on horseback, he went away to fetch his waggonette. I then attached myself to Assistant Commandant Jan Meyer. We had heard towards the end of the week of what had happened to General de Wet at Bothasville. This did not tend to cheer us, but at the same time we were not discouraged. Not only had every tendency to the despair which had taken possession of us at Nauwpoort disappeared, but we had also in General Botha a leader who inspired his men. I have never seen him show any signs of despondency, and the burghers had faith in him. We began, then, to move southwards. We proceeded with the greatest speed, and on Wednesday evening, the 14th of November, camped at the farm of Mr. Hans Bormann at Korannaberg.

President Steyn and General de Wet had, after the occurrence at Bothasville, also travelled south, and arrived where we were that same evening. Before retiring for the night I met the President. He had much to tell about his adventures in the Transvaal, and of his remarkable escape at Bothasville. I admired his courage and cheerfulness, and thought of how much we should be indebted to him, if ever God should see fit to grant us our Independence.

CHAPTER XI
WITH GENERAL DE WET TO THE ORANGE RIVER—THE TAKING OF DE WET'S DORP

On the following day the President and General de Wet addressed the burghers, and informed them that they were to go to the Cape Colony.

On that same afternoon, the 15th of November, the march thither commenced. It was touching to see, however contrary to the desire of many Free Staters it was, how eager the colonists among us were to start. One of them sitting on his horse, said to a friend of his seated on a cart drawn by two mules, "Yes, John, though it be only with mules, still, every step is a step nearer!"

The intention was to go that evening to a store at Brand's Drift, but on the way we heard that the English were there, and we spent the night on a ridge to the left of the road. On the next day we proceeded, and passed the store without any mishap; for the English had either gone away, or had not been there. In some heavy showers of rain we continued our journey to Newberry's Mill, and there we halted for some hours.

The weather cleared up in the afternoon, and we saddled our horses shortly before sunset, with the object of passing through Sprinkhaans Nek[5] that same night. But General de Wet knew that the English had forts there, and that in all probability this could not be done without coming into contact with the enemy. He therefore sent the burgher Frank van Reenen with a white flag to the fort nearest to the route we should have to take, with a message that if it did not surrender we should have to take more drastic measures. As was to be expected, the English refused this demand, and the fort was thereupon bombarded.

Darkness fell, and while General Botha with a number of men was attacking the fort, the rest of the commando with the carts and waggons passed through to the eastward. The bullets from the fort whistled over those passing by, and Assistant Commandant Meyer, who sat in a cart, was again wounded. But beyond this, except that some horses were hit, we passed through without any loss. The object not being to take the fort, but to get through the nek, General Botha was called back as soon as the commando was safely through. We encamped a short distance from Zwartlapberg.

Mr. Pontsma of the Netherlands Ambulance in the Transvaal joined us in the nek, and I was glad to hand over the wounded to his care.

Early the following morning we went forward. We passed through what was formerly Maroko's territory. Here we had no trouble from wire en-closures or gates. What peaceable people the Barolong Kaffirs must be not to require that peace-maker "Barbed wire."

Our road now led us across the sources of the Modder River, and on Sunday, the 18th November, we rested, and held service about six miles from De Wet's Dorp, while General Botha went to reconnoitre the forts of the English garrison stationed at that town.

During the following two days we went from farm to farm, but remained in the neighbourhood of the town, and on Tuesday night the General commenced the attack from three sides. He ordered General Botha to take possession of a high hill on the southwest of the town, while Commandant Lategun was told to approach from the west. He himself with Commandant de Vos took the ridge on the north of the town. Early the following morning the outlying forts were bombarded by our cannon, as well as harassed by our rifles. A few burghers were wounded early in the fight and brought to the laager.

On the day after, the attack was proceeded with, and we had the pleasure of seeing several important forts taken. But the chief work was done on the following day, Friday, 23rd November. Nearer and nearer our men approached, steadily drawing the cordon round the British closer, and it was a very great satisfaction to General de Wet to see that he had men under him who carried out his plans. No attack certainly was better planned or better carried out than this during the whole war.

In the course of the day Commandant de Vos and Field-Cornet Baljon took a fort, in which a lieutenant with twenty men had to surrender. But the grandest work was done by Field-Cornet (afterwards General) Wessel Wessels, who was under General Botha,—to him the honour must be accorded of taking most of the forts.

His method of attack was as follows. He gave his men orders to direct a heavy fire on the loopholes of a fort he wished to take. This rendered it impossible for the defenders to fire, and gave him the opportunity of rushing swiftly with a few men to the fort. There he lay down under the loopholes, out of the fire. From this point of vantage he called out "Hands up!" and in this manner he took all the forts that fell to his share.

From position to position the British were driven, until at last the town was in our possession! In the afternoon there were only three forts still held by them. These had now to be taken, and the danger to our burghers was very great, especially in the storming of one of them! Field-Cornet Wessels was ordered to attack it from the town side, and he began, when the sun was already rapidly sinking in the west, to approach it from a donga. We should undoubtedly have lost very heavily here if the English had opposed us any longer, for the ravine along which Field-Cornet Wessels approached afforded little or no shelter, but just as the sun was setting the white flag was hoisted. De Wet's Dorp was taken.

The loss of the English was 20 killed and 85 wounded. Eight officers and 400 men were taken prisoners, and we captured two Armstrong guns, one Maxim-Nordenfeldt, and a great deal of ammunition and provisions. Our loss was seven killed and fourteen wounded.

The English said that it was an overwhelming number of Boers that compelled this garrison to surrender; but it is certain that not more than 500 men took part in the attack. For, in the first place, all the burghers were not taken from the laager; but patrols also had to be sent in all directions to see if the enemy were not sending reinforcements. How ready the English always were to magnify our numbers when they suffered defeat.

We were generally, according to their reports, "small, roving, sniping bands"; but when anything happened to them, like the taking of a town, we were transformed as if by magic into "overwhelming numbers"!

We were all greatly elated, and the President was of opinion that we ought to hold a thanksgiving service. It was agreed that this should take place on the following Sunday in the church, but we were hindered in this through the arrival of a hostile reinforcement from Edenburg, which immediately occupied the attention of General De Wet.

The laager then trekked to Plat Kop, taking the prisoners along with it. We remained there, while a considerable number of burghers went to meet the enemy. As, however, it was not our purpose to fight in the Free State, but to invade the Cape Colony, the reinforcements were left where they were, while the laager and all the men trekked on Monday far into the night in the direction of Breipaal and Klein-Bloemfontein.

That night the prisoners complained that they were made to march too far, but General De Wet reminded them some marches of Lord Roberts were still longer.

It was a most dreary trek across wide plains, and we were not in a particularly happy mood when we arose the following morning, none too early.

We were still busy with our breakfasts when we heard a cry that the English were at our heels. And such indeed was the case. There was only one ridge between us and the enemy. Presently the bullets were dropping into the laager. Confusion followed, and the majority wanted to do nothing but flee. It was only with great trouble that the officers managed to get the men into position. There was also trouble with the prisoners. They thought that they would now be relieved. They shouted, Hurrah! refused to go on, and sought shelter from the bullets of their friends behind a stone wall. But the stern bearing of our officers and the determination of their guards compelled them to continue the march.

The laager got away, and we went on to Hex River Berg and across the sources of Riet River, still in the direction of Breipaal.

In the night we passed Treur Kop, and halted on Mr. Heper's farm. In the meanwhile the English had left us, and had gone towards Smithfield. The country through which we now travelled presented a dreary appearance on account of the prevailing drought. The veld was yellow and scorched by the sun, and when we halted for a while on the farm I have just mentioned, the west wind sang a mournful ditty over the parched country. I remarked upon the cheerless aspect of our surroundings, and Mr. Louw Wepener remarked that it must surely have been on such a day that the hill, which we had passed during the night, was named "Treur Kop" (Hill of mourning).

On the following day we reached Klein-Bloemfontein, and remained there the following day also.

Here a Council of War was held for the purpose of trying a man named Van der Berg and a number of Kaffirs who had been captured at De Wet's Dorp. Van der Berg was sentenced to death, and the Kaffirs were set at liberty with a message to Lorothodi, their chief, that as we were not at war with him, and as we wished to remain on good terms with him and his people, we sent his men back as proof of our friendship: that we hoped besides that he would remain strictly neutral, and prove this by advising his men not to enter into the service of the British.

I discovered that the court had not been unanimous in sentencing Van der Berg to death, and I therefore deemed it my duty to ask the President to order a revision of the matter. He was willing to do so, and the Council of War again took the matter into consideration, with the result, however, that the death sentence was confirmed by a majority of one vote.

The papers were handed to the Government for final decision. The sentence was not carried out.

The veld yielded very little pasturage here for our horses. A long time had elapsed since it had last rained, and the grass was withered. Our horses and mules had therefore to live almost exclusively on the forage which we could get on the farms. They had still some on the 1st of December, but after that they had nothing but a little chaff for five days. They had therefore to subsist on the herbage which grew between the tufts of grass. It was marvellous to see the effect of this pasture on the sheep of these parts. Their flesh was almost too fat to eat; but our horses, not being used to this kind of veld, could not live on the shrubs which fattened the sheep.

On Sunday, 2nd December, we trekked to Tafel Kop, not far from Bethulie. There we would have held divine service had it been possible, but we could not, as there was a small English laager on the farm Goede Hoop, and a number of burghers set out for the purpose of taking it. They did not, however, succeed, and had to remain on the ridges to the north-east, while the rest of the commando trekked through Slikspruit.

The fight was continued the following day, when an adjutant of General de Wet, whose name was also de Wet, was killed. At two o'clock we were ordered to proceed to the Caledon River. It was not a moment too soon, for another English force was approaching from the west, and their shrapnels dropped a little way behind the trekking laager. We continued till dark, and then we waited, our horses saddled, and the mules in harness, until all the burghers were able to leave the positions.

It had rained a little in the afternoon, and while we waited there, dark clouds lowered, and it seemed as if the drought had come to an end. Presently some showers fell, and we expected to have a wet night. And so it turned out, for shortly after we had resumed our march the darkness became more intense, and the rain descended in heavy showers.

The light of morning ushered in a clouded sky, and we had the cheerless prospect of a soaking day and a difficult march. In the rain we passed the beautiful farm Carmel, belonging to Mr. Wessels, and proceeded without a halt until we had crossed the Caledon River at the farm of old Mr. du Plessis. Here also there was no forage. Mr. du Plessis said that the English had passed there twice and had with a lavish hand used up the forage. Our horses already began to suffer from hunger, and our rapid march was exhausting them greatly.

At two o'clock General de Wet ordered us to resume our journey, and this was done in the rain. Unfortunately the horses of the Krupp gun had knocked up, and it was left behind at the river. When General de Wet heard this on the following day he was very angry; for the gun should have been brought on at any cost.

In the evening the vanguard of the commando had reached a range of hills about two miles from the drift across the Orange River at Odendalstroom.

A Field-Cornet was ordered in the evening to go forward, to open up the road into the Cape Colony. But the heavy travelling in the wet weather had detained us so, that the darkness setting in as we approached the drift made this impossible. We therefore had to halt at the hills above referred to. I broke off some twigs from the shrubs, spread the ox-skin upon them, and thus on the soaking ground I lay down to rest. It rained softly almost the whole night, and on the following morning the bedding of almost all the men was wet through. Our horses looked miserably worn, after the rain and the forced marches. Those who accompany General de Wet must be prepared for such things.

From the ridges on which we were we could see some tents. They belonged to the English guard, and stood on the opposite side of the river, not three miles away. The 400 prisoners-of-war were released here (5th December), but the officers were still retained. Towards ten o'clock we advanced, but—it was not to cross the Orange River, for it was in flood and a passage was impossible. And we could not remain where we were until the river became passable, for the English were pursuing us very closely. There remained therefore no other way for General de Wet than, for the present, to turn his back upon the Cape Colony. His disappointment must have been great.

We now turned our faces northward towards the town of Smithfield. I thought with sympathy of the colonists who were with us. No doubt many of them had seen, on the other side, natural objects well known to them, and now they had to be content with the sight of them only. For them every step now was not nearer, but farther away.

CHAPTER XII
BETWEEN TWO FULL RIVERS

The weather had cleared up beautifully. The air was deliciously cool and bracing. Everything, as is usual after rain, seemed to revive. But shortly after midday clouds rose again in the west, and a violent shower of rain, accompanied by thunder and lightning, fell by way of farewell. At night all was clear again, and the stars shone brightly. We had got to Smith's Rest.

At midnight we were roused. The report had come that the English were pursuing us very closely. Immediately we saddled and inspanned. We ploughed on through the mud, and so gained on the enemy. A little after sunrise we outspanned and rested for a short time. Before noon we were again on the move to get out of reach of the foe.

The veld was more beautiful than the day before. A carpet of green stretched out all around, and that served much to cheer us. But our poor horses were not invigorated. They suffered terribly from hunger, and could not yet graze on the short young pasture. The consequence was that, already then, some 150 had become so exhausted that they had to be left behind. This was the case with the horse lent to me by Mr. Adriaan Dolebout—that faithful animal so sure-footed, and never needing either spur or whip! It had travelled through long winter nights without any sign apparently of fatigue; it had often rescued my son from danger! And now it had to be left behind! With great emotion Charlie took the halter from its head, and when it remained behind exhausted, it still neighed a farewell to the pony that had been its companion since the 2nd of August.

Proceeding, we saw beautiful landscapes spreading out before us. To the left just above the horizon, Aasvogel Kop raised its head; right before us towered the proud Wolve Kop, whilst to the right in the purple distance we saw Gnoesberg and Aasvogelberg standing sentinels over Zastron. And everywhere before us, behind us, and on both sides of us were the hills, rejoicing in their newly acquired garment of green.

At first we marched straight towards Wolve Kop, but when we got near to that mountain we suddenly turned to the left, and off-saddled for a while at a farm where we got one bundle of forage—only one—for each horse. This was the first forage for five days. In the evening we went on some distance farther.

It soon appeared now that we could not choose to go either to the left or to the right to avoid the English. We were between two full rivers; for the Caledon had also become swollen after we had crossed it. Still less could we come to a halt, for the force which pursued us had so greatly increased, that to fight was out of the question. Besides, the English had a great many cannons. Our scouts estimated that there were about twenty-five guns. The English themselves, as we learned later from the newspapers, gave a larger number. There was therefore no time to delay, more especially as the enemy often was not farther away from us than nine miles. On the second day after we had turned at Odendalstroom we went forward with the purpose of crossing the Caledon with the bridge. We knew that there was a guard there, but for a force like ours they did not amount to much. They might be driven away. And so we began to bombard them. It was soon seen, however, that the guard could not be driven off before the large army which was following us would overtake us, and the plan of crossing over the bridge was abandoned. The state of affairs was indeed critical. General Botha called me aside, and advised me to hold myself in readiness to gallop out on horseback if my cart[6] was in danger of being captured. After some delay near the bridge, nothing remained for us but to go up along the Caledon and try to find a ford which would be shallow enough to enable us to cross. We therefore proceeded with the greatest speed, hoping for the best, but constantly apprehensive lest, even if we found a ford, we should be caught up there.

But all went well. At sunset we reached Lubbe's Drift. A better place to cross we could never have desired, and the river had now also fallen so much that we could pass over without delay. That evening we were for the present out of danger, and here and there one could hear a psalm being sung: a thing that had not occurred during the past week.

CHAPTER XIII
INCESSANTLY HARASSED BY THE ENEMY

The enemy continued to pursue us, but not now at such close quarters as on the previous day, and next morning we could proceed more at our leisure. It was also fortunate that we could do this, for otherwise many horses, starved and worn-out by the rapid marches, could not have held out. More than 300 of them had now been abandoned, and some of the burghers had to walk, whilst others led their tired horses.

Not far from the ford we passed the beautiful farm "Zevenfontein" of Mr. Jacobus Swanepoel. The luxuriant growth of the trees before the house and in the orchard testified to the presence of a plenteous supply of water, and that the name "Seven Fountains" was one well chosen for this farm. Formerly this was the site of the mission station "Beersheba."

Having halted here long enough to enable everyone to get some forage for his horses, we went on to the farm of Dr. Lottery.

The following day was Sunday, and now, at last, we could hold our long-deferred thanksgiving day. I spoke in my sermon of the despondence of the Prophet Elijah, and after I had done two of the burghers engaged in prayer.

Two days after our arrival here we had advanced after nightfall as far as Helvetia. There we found plenty of mealies and could feed our horses well. In the course of the day General de Villiers had again joined us. He had got his waggon, and had followed us with the commando of Commandant Hasebroek. They had not been able to pass through Sprinkhaans Nek, and had had to make a long detour round Bloemfontein. I was very glad to meet my old friend once more.

We betook ourselves to rest, but restful we were not; for our scouts had reported that the enemy had again come up within a very short distance of us. Next morning it became evident that such was the case, for then the English were only a few miles behind us. With the greatest speed we saddled and inspanned and very quickly the laager hurried on, whilst the burghers took up positions to hold back the enemy until the waggons and carts were out of danger.

In the meanwhile the English had advanced so rapidly that they were able to fire on the hindmost waggons with a Maxim-Nordenfeldt. In the confusion caused by this, and the excitement which reigned everywhere, four of the English officers contrived to escape.

From time to time our men had to retire before the overwhelming force that pursued us and take up new positions. This went on during the whole day, until we got beyond Hex River Mountain.

During the night the forced marching was continued. General de Wet went first of all in a westerly direction towards Edenburg, with the object of getting round the English and thus proceeding to the Cape Colony again; but hearing that there was a force of English he changed his course in the night and went north, and later on east, leaving the village of Reddersburg to the left. At daybreak we halted not far from De Wet's Dorp. It was thus that General de Wet managed to keep out of the hands of the enemy.

From the place at which we now were, the rest of the English officers were released. They were captured at De Wet's Dorp, and after a long detour they were set free at the same town.

In the night of that same day we reached Plat Kop, where we in our march to the south had halted for some days after the taking of De Wet's Dorp. General de Wet thought that by having made so wide a turn he would be rid of the enemy for some hours, and he ordered the following morning after breakfast that we should proceed to Daspoort in order to have better pasturage for our animals. Everybody thought that there was time enough to carry out this order, and began preparing the morning meal leisurely. The majority were still engaged in this when it was reported that the English were on the ridge towards the north-west. We could not believe this, but it was true enough, and presently we heard the crack of rifle fire. Again there was a confused flight. Some sped east, others south. The Maxim-Nordenfeldts again played upon the waggons in the rear, and the officers had again the greatest trouble to get the burghers into position. How miserable it is when a laager becomes panic-stricken. At Daspoort, therefore, it was impossible to remain. We hurried past and halted some miles from there at a suitable ridge on the farm Rietfontein. Here General de Wet made a demonstration as if he were going to take positions on the ridge and wait there for the English to come; but when it became dark he ordered us to saddle, and the whole commando proceeded with the object of getting through Sprinkhaans Nek before dawn the following day.

A short distance in front of us marched the commando of Bethlehem, under Commandant Michal Prinsloo. This Commandant had on the previous night come to us through the nek without any mishap, and had now under these circumstances to return immediately.

CHAPTER XIV
SPRINKHAANS NEK, 14TH DECEMBER 1900

We rode all through the night with our weary and hungry horses. It was a cold night for this time of the year. The wind that blew from the south seemed to cut right through us. We progressed very slowly, as is always the case by night; and this night we seemed to go more slowly than ever, for besides the usual delay caused by the waggons and tired horses, there were many burghers on foot.

How slowly we went! Zwartlapberg, which we knew we had to pass, loomed a dark and undefined mass on the distant horizon, and seemed to come no nearer. And we began to fear that we should not be able to pass through Sprinkhaans Nek before daylight. And so it proved. For after we had ridden for hours, all too soon the morning star arose and a long low arc of light suffused all the eastern sky with crimson. Rapidly—more rapidly than we wished—the darkness had vanished, and plains at the foot of the mountain we were making for lay all revealed in the growing light of day. We crossed through a rivulet, and when the sun rose we were marching over the slopes below Zwartlapberg. Though we had hoped to reach that spot before it became light, our fears had somehow calmed down as we were riding along there. Was it the daylight that vanquished the apprehensions and uncertainties of night?

But there was a cause for being at ease. The Bethlehem Commando had gone on ahead, and had passed through. We should no doubt manage the passage. So, without perturbation, the laager went forward, slow but determined, when—Boom!

We hear the thunder of a cannon fired from Zwartlapberg, and a shell bursts on the ground near the front waggons. A second shell soon follows, and then a third and a fourth; and the mounted men and those on foot, the waggons and the carts, immediately wheel from the mountain and race away, scattered and in confusion, all over the plain to the west, to get out of range of the cannon.

About three or four miles from the road on which we had been travelling we came to a standstill. We can now collect our scattered senses. We discuss the situation. The state of affairs is not encouraging. Let us see how they stand.

We are certain now to meet with resistance from the forts in front of us. From the rear the English are advancing in great numbers. To the right and left it is just the same, for there too we shall come in contact with the enemy.

What is to be done now? Some say we must remain where we are, others that we must get through the nek at all costs. President Steyn declares we must go through, and General Fourie has already expressed the same opinion, and as neither General de Wet nor General Philip Botha are present at the moment, this officer puts himself at the head of the commando and bravely rides on.

The whole commando, waggons and carts, mounted men and those on foot, follow him. Like a great stream they advance, as far as possible from the cannon on Zwartlapberg and as near as possible to the mountains to the west of the nek.

There were three English forts on the left (of which two could fire on us), and two on the lowest ridges of Zwartlapberg. We must now pass in between these. We proceed, not knowing what there is in store for us. We think we are going to our death, or at least that we shall be wounded. Onward, onward flows the great stream of men on horseback and on foot, of waggons and carts. Some burghers put their spurs into their horses and gallop ahead. They take possession of a Kaffir kraal and open a heavy fire on the right-hand forts.

In the meanwhile the great laager treks on and approaches to the nek, nearer and nearer. General de Wet, accompanied by General Botha, now appears on the scene and takes on himself the further conduct of the passage. There is a deafening rattle of Mausers, to which the British Lee-Metfords reply. We reach the nek, over which we pass, and find ourselves in reaped wheat-fields, which makes it difficult for the waggons and carts to proceed; but the worn-out animals are relentlessly driven onward.

Some of the burghers take position behind the wheat-stacks here, and direct a heavy fire on the forts to the right, while the Bethlehem men, who passed through the nek at daybreak, occupy themselves with the forts to the left, and with a force coming from Thaba 'Nchu.

The bullets whistle over our heads and strike the ground all along the route we have to go. The clatter of our rifle fire fills the air. This, and the general confusion, affects the men in different ways, which can clearly be read on their countenances. Here one sees indifference, there calm resolve, yonder fear and alarm, which so paralyse the fearful that they abandon all their food, blankets, coats. But all press on! After two hours the great stream of waggons and carts and men has passed through Sprinkhaans Nek.

We ask ourselves, whence the courage which inspired us to face so determinedly what was before us? whence the strength which upheld our worn-out horses? The enemy thought they had hemmed us in, which indeed was the case. They were in front of us and in our rear, to our right and to our left. But God was not willing that we should fall into their hands.

We had just emerged from the wheat-fields when the English hurled shells at us, but it was marvellous to see how these shells exploded in the open spaces between the burghers, without doing any harm.

At length, at about eleven o'clock, we halted, so that our poor brutes, after having been in harness and under saddle for sixteen hours, could now enjoy a long drink.

Here the Bethlehem burghers joined us. They related to us how they had come through the nek early in the morning, before dawn, and had been fired upon, as they were passing close to the forts, with the loss of two of their number. This was a matter of regret to us all; but a feeling of gratitude prevailed, for, excepting these two killed, and two more wounded in making the passage, and a few horses killed and wounded, we had come—it was a marvel to us—unharmed through Sprinkhaans Nek.

CHAPTER XV CHRISTMAS 1900

Commandant Hasebroek did not succeed in getting through Sprinkhaans Nek with us, as he was too far behind; but he broke through the cordon some days later between Thaba 'Nchu and the Bloemfontein waterworks. Besides this, our ambulances, under Dr. Fourie and Mr. Poutsma, remained behind; but General Knox let them go, and in a few days they were once more in our midst.

Concerning our other losses, it must be noted that the men of one of the Armstrong guns taken at De Wet's Dorp abandoned it, and as the carriage of one of the Maxim-Nordenfeldts broke down, there was no help for it but to leave it behind. Besides these, a few carts and waggons were left behind.

On Saturday, 15th December, towards nightfall we held a service, as the Transvaal Government had fixed that day as a day of prayer and humiliation. The day after was both Sunday and Dingaan's Day. We celebrated the day at Korannaberg, and commemorated the vow made by our forefathers.

Almost a week passed now without our having any trouble from our pursuers. We passed the farm of Mr. Frans Schimper, greatly enjoyed the delicious oranges which we found everywhere, and remained during wet weather, on the 18th and 19th December, on the farm Mexico, belonging to Mr. Jacobus Van der Watt. After this, General P. Fourie proceeded with a portion of the commando in the direction of Clocolan, where we had heard that the English were. The rest of us went with General de Wet to Trommel, as there was another force of English to the left of Leeuw Kop.

On Saturday we were at Rietfontein, the farm of Mr. Stephanus Jacobsz, and on Sunday we held service on the ridge to the south-west. Then we went back from the ridge to Rietfontein.

Meanwhile the enemy were again approaching from Leeuwfontein as well as from Clocolan. General de Wet gave orders that the burghers should take up positions on the hills westward between Rietfontein and Mouton's Nek.

The following day, 24th December, the English, who were advancing, were driven back from Leeuw Kop. But by the unfaithfulness of a Field-Cornet, who deserted his post without the knowledge of the other men, the English coming from the direction of Clocolan got the chance of approaching unobserved. These creeping up a ditch were thus able to fire on our men from behind. The result might have been disastrous. Our burghers, thus fired at, found themselves also attacked in front, and could now do nothing but escape from between the two fires. A son of Commandant Truter was killed there. The burgher Coenrad Labuschagne was taken prisoner. Fortunately all the others escaped, and rallied in the evening at Doornhoek.

The following morning was Christmas. "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace!" Thus in the stilly night the angels sang twenty centuries before, and we—after all those centuries, we had not peace on earth, but the sword. Alas! that after these centuries of the preaching of the good news of peace one mortal should still be seeking to take away the life of another, that one Christian people—yes, Christian people; for after Christ, not after Buddha or Confucius, are we named—should strive to destroy the other! In spite of the gospel it was not peace but the sword.

Who really understands Jesus of Nazareth, and who of those who do understand Him are ready to sacrifice all to Him, and to live, whatever they may have to suffer for it, as He lived? There stood Doorn Kop behind us, and Wonder Kop to the right. Alongside their saddles and under the shade of some willows lay the tired burghers. How little of Christmas rejoicing there was in all this.

It was difficult to believe that we had ever enjoyed Christmas festivities. Were not the recollections which surged up in us—recollections of Christmas cheer and Christmas peace—only beautiful illusions rising from a past which never really existed, as we saw it then? The day before, with its roar of cannon, seemed to turn the angels' hymn to irony.

More or less thus had I written in my lost diary, and I had added—But let me not fall into weak meditation; let me rather, as a faithful chronicler, deal with the facts as they occurred.

Ad rem, then. We buried young Hendrik Truter in the burial-place of Mrs. Goosen, on the farm Driehoppen. And there in a quiet grave, over which the poplar leaves restlessly moved soughing in the wind, we laid him to rest, where the wicked ceased from troubling and the weary were at rest.

In the afternoon I held a service under the great shady willows of the farm, taking as text the prophetic words of John, "The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of His Christ, and He will reign for ever and ever." I felt greatly cheered, and it became plain to me that if peace eventually came it would come through long centuries of unrest and of strife. What of that, if only it came at last? But we poor shortsighted creatures, we would measure the course of the kingdom of God by seconds! What is an age to Him for whom one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years are as one day? What are a thousand years to Him who forms the crust of the earth through myriads of years? However long, then, it might last, the day will yet come when the kingdoms of the earth shall become the kingdoms of God and of His Christ, and when He shall reign for ever.

After the service General de Wet said that we were that afternoon to proceed a little farther. Soon we were marching again, and at nine o'clock in the evening we camped to the south-west of Senekal, at the foot of Tafel Kop.

CHAPTER XVI
EVERYONE GOES TO HIS OWN DISTRICT

Here at Tafel Kop, after the chief officers had held a council of war, the commandos separated. We of Harrismith, together with burghers of other districts, were now again under the command of General Philip Botha. The rest were to go under Generals Fourie and Froneman.

General de Wet shortly afterwards fitted out a second expedition to invade Cape Colony, which, however, did not get farther than Brak River. I did not accompany it (during January and February 1901), and have therefore nothing to relate about it. It is, however, well known that General de Wet, in this second attempt to make an inroad into British territory south of the Orange River, underwent still greater hardships than in the first. But although he was prevented by heavy rains from gaining his object, and had to turn back, he was not altogether dissatisfied; for on his return he declared, when addressing the burghers, that he had gained what he wanted. He had certainly succeeded in forcing the English to march long distances, and to concentrate large forces at points where at that time it was not convenient for them to do so.

But let me revert to my own experiences. On the 26th of December, when darkness had fallen, we left Tafel Kop, and camped for the night to the north of Wit Kop. There were, when we got to the neighbourhood of Senekal, no English in that town; but after we had been at Wit Kop for a day news was brought that a body of the enemy had again entered it. General Botha therefore sent a number of burghers to take up a position along the road from Senekal to Bethlehem, whilst the laager remained at Wit Kop. The object of this was to allow time for about ten waggons, which had been sent to Ficksburg to fetch meal, to return. Before, however, these waggons reached Ficksburg the English had again occupied that town, and with regretful eyes we saw the long train of waggons returning without having accomplished their purpose.

On Friday, the 28th of December, we went on to Zuringtrans, and early on the following morning we started from there towards Kaffir Kop, while General Botha with a number of burghers took up positions. We were outspanned, and quite at our ease, when a report came that the enemy was advancing from Wit Kop. At first we did not believe this, but soon it proved to be true enough, and then there was again a hurried inspanning. The Maxim-Nordenfeldt was dangerously near, and we had to hasten away with the greatest speed. We passed the Sand River and Kaffir Kop to the left, and at night we encamped not far from that kop.

The following day, Sunday, we could hold no service. The burghers had to take up positions against the advancing foe at Kaffir Kop, while the waggons and carts went forward during the whole of the day to Elandsfontein, not far from Lindley.

How unfortunate was the lot of our burghers when, without cannon, they had to hold a position. Before they could get a chance of firing a single shot the position was shelled, and the English, far beyond the reach of rifles, moved round the flanks in large numbers. If, then, our men wished to avoid being surrounded they had to retreat. This now at Kaffir Kop. The frequent withdrawal of our burghers from their positions made the enemy taunt them with being unwilling to fight, and with running away. But since the English as a rule kept our men at a distance of five thousand yards with their cannon, and kept themselves also at a safe distance, how could our people get a chance of fighting?

If the Boers, then, had no chance of fighting, they should not keep the war going: they should not attack the English when few in numbers and when they had a fair chance of firing at the enemy's troops on their flanks. So the English kept on saying; yet, oh mine enemy, what right had'st thou to prescribe to us how we should fight? Did not thine own great hero, Wellington, declare that a nation has the right to adopt every means to resist a foe that is invading its country?

We went on a little farther that night, and the sun rose on us on the 1st of January 1901 not far from Liebenberg's Vlei. We proceeded a short distance farther, and held service to celebrate the day in the garden of a farm where we had halted. I addressed the burghers on the subject of "the Old and the New."

In the evening we proceeded in the direction of Reitz, and camped at the confluence of Liebenberg's Vlei and Tyger Kloof; for it was General Botha's object to give the burghers some rest somewhere in the neighbourhood of that village.

We remained here for some days to look for a suitable spot, and the General went himself with Commandant Erwee to reconnoitre the forts of the English at Reitz. Meanwhile we enjoyed the great privilege of being able to bathe in the river; but we also experienced some discomfort from rain. At midnight on the second day heavy showers fell, and many burghers who had off-saddled in low-lying places were inundated. They had hurriedly to jump up and carry their bedding to higher ground. This they did laughing and joking, which certainly was a fine proof of the good spirit that prevailed among them, and of the cheerfulness with which they were ready to make any sacrifice for the sake of the great cause.

It appeared that we could not remain in the neighbourhood of Reitz, for on Thursday, the 3rd of January, our attention was called to an English force marching from Senekal towards Heilbron. In a fight that day with this force we unfortunately lost several dead and wounded. On the following day another engagement took place with another body of English going in the same direction. General Botha drove the infantry some distance, but had to give it up when reinforcements with two cannon and a Maxim-Nordenfeldt belonging to the English who had passed the day before made its appearance. Whilst the General was engaged in this fight some of our men halted the ambulance waggons of the enemy, which had gone on in advance, and found in them a considerable number of the English who had been wounded on the previous day. There was also one of our burghers, but he was too weak to be removed.

Meanwhile we had from day to day gone farther and farther from Reitz, and on Sunday, 6th January, we crossed Liebenberg's Vlei and remained that night on the bank of that river not far from Leeuw Kop. Here we remained till the following morning. We then proceeded east of Leeuw Kop.

From a high ridge there, over which we passed, I saw in the distance Platberg, at the foot of which Harrismith lies. I had not seen the mountain for five months. A thrill of emotion went through me when I saw it, but I had no desire to go to the town at its foot, for no one dear to me was there now. And when I thought how the enemy had taken possession of the town, and of all the vulgarity connected with a military occupation, I felt a sort of aversion to the place.

Whither were we going now, now that we could not rest in the neighbourhood of Reitz?

There was a rumour that picked men from each commando were to go with General de Wet to the colony, and that the rest of the men were to return to their own districts to be employed there as circumstances might require. And now that we were "trekking" in the direction of Harrismith it seemed as if this would be the case, at any rate as far as the Harrismith burghers were concerned; but greatly to the disappointment of most of us, we had to go back on Tuesday night, and reached Bronkhorstfontein on Wednesday morning early, not far from Valsch River.

On the following morning we trekked to Valsch River, not far from the mill, and on Friday, 11th January, all the Harrismith men got leave to go to their districts, upon the understanding that they should come together again on the 22nd at Doornberg.

Afterwards leave was given to those burghers who had accompanied the Chief-Commandant to Odendalstroom to remain in their own district, while those who had not gone with him were now to accompany him on his second expedition to the Cape Colony. There were some, however, of those who had gone the first time who now went again, among whom were General Wessel Wessels, Commandant Jan Jacobsz, and some men.

I set off towards Harrismith without the slightest delay. On Saturday night I was on the farm of Jan Labuschagne, and on the following afternoon, at sunset, I arrived at Zwart Klip, together with General C. J. de Villiers.

It was pleasant to be there once more, and to see the trees, which were leafless when I had last seen them, now clad in all the pride of summer. Everything was calm and peaceful here, and although the English, eighteen miles away, had our town in their possession, we could with difficulty persuade ourselves that there peace had not been restored. We were naturally glad to see one another again, and had much to tell and much to listen to. What was particularly gratifying to us was to hear the particulars in regard to the quasi civil administration of the English, of which we had already heard some account. Since the middle of October the function of District Commissioner had ceased also in this district. The patrols of five or six mounted police could no more ride about in safety, and if the English wished to go from one town to another this could not be accomplished unless they were in large numbers and under the protection of cannon. But the burghers went about in small numbers—north or south, east or west—wherever they listed. It became clearer to us than ever, that whatever the English might have, they were not yet in possession of our country, and that they could do nothing unless they did it with overwhelming odds and under shelter of cannon.

We felt that this could not but be humiliating to such officers of the British army as were capable of judging the merits of the case without prejudice.

CHAPTER XVII
THE DESTRUCTION OF THE FARMS

For some time after I arrived at Zwart Klip matters were fairly quiet in the Free State. I was surprised at this, and considered that the English were, from their point of view, guilty of neglect of duty.

Their inactivity in the Free State must be accounted for by the fact that they were occupied by General de Wet on the northern border of the Cape Colony, and by Generals Hertzog and Kritzinger, who had both penetrated far into British territory, in the south.

This quiet was very opportune to me. I made use of it to write over my diary; and on Sundays I held divine service on some farm or other.

During this period the burghers who had returned were stationed all about as outposts. Two scouting corps—one under Commandant Botha, and another under his brother, Captain Botha—had already been operating for some time in the districts of Vrede and Harrismith, and had done much towards putting a stop to the small police patrols of the enemy who used to wander about all over the country. And now small bodies of burghers were stationed as guards near the towns. In the district of Harrismith there was one guard at Mont Paul, another at Broedersdal, and another at Groothoek. In the Vrede there was one near Mullerspas in the Drakensberg, and at various points around the town. In the same manner matters were regulated all through the country. The Government also provided for the appointment of landdrosts (magistrates) and justices of the peace for criminal cases in each district. The guards, of which I have spoken, had very little to do during this quiet time. Each day they rode out to reconnoitre, and if a force of English marched from one town to another they harassed their flanks.

This period of comparative rest continued until about the middle of May, when the enemy began to become active in every part of the country. In the districts of Harrismith and Vrede the English approached from the direction of Heilbron and Frankfort, and marched to Tafel Kop in the district of Vrede. Others advanced from the Transvaal, and whether or not they had been guilty, from their standpoint, of neglect of duty, they now began to do their work thoroughly—or rather, I should say, in a thoroughly cruel and heartless manner.

It seemed as if they wanted now literally to annihilate us. They made use of any expedient. The farms were laid waste, the houses burnt down or damaged in such a manner as to render them uninhabitable, and grain and forage were given as a prey to the flames. Cattle were looted and sheep killed in tens of thousands.

Our women, it is true, were not killed out of hand, but they were taken by force, against their wish or will, and shut up in camps. There they were exposed to fevers and other camp diseases, and many succumbed. So it came about that, although, as I have said, it is true that they were not directly killed, it was nevertheless through the environment into which they were forced that they were destroyed by thousands.

But I am anticipating.

The hostile forces of which I spoke marched up in the eastern part of district Vrede, along both banks of Klip River, and before their dreaded advance there was a general flight on the part of the inhabitants of the farms towards Wilge River. Waggons loaded with furniture, bedding, and provisions; carts and spiders with women and children; great troops of horses and cattle—all fled before the English as before Goths and Vandals. And all this in winter! How I pitied the misery of the women and children.

As they passed along, the English looted much cattle—but an incredible number, especially horses and cattle, were saved by the fugitives.

The enemy's forces went in the direction of the Drakensberg. They marched over Roode Nek and Vlak Nek, and we began to think that they would disappear into Natal; and many of the fugitives returned to their homes; but they had to take to flight again immediately, when they learnt that only a portion of the enemy had descended into Natal through Botha's Pass—undoubtedly to bring away the captured cattle. The other portion suddenly turned back, came through Geershoogte to the Witkoppen, and continued their work of destruction west of these hills, down Cornelis River to Verky kers Kop. Towards the 23rd of May the English had returned from Natal and joined the others west of the Witkoppen.

About four days after this the English had drawn a line of camps from Tafel Kop (district Vrede) up to Cornelis River, and then moved forward every day towards Wilge River, devastating and looting on a large scale. It is wonderful how the fugitives fared, and scarcely credible that they did not fall into the hands of the British. Some succeeded in getting round either wing of the cordon by night, others again passed through it close to the camps. What this means can only fully be realised when it is known that the fugitives consisted mostly of women and children, and that (although they were directed how to trek by the fighting burghers) the women in most cases had to drive the carts, and in some cases even the ox waggons, themselves. Notwithstanding all these difficulties most escaped. Here and there a small laager was captured, but the majority baffled the enemy. A laager of women, however, in which I was by chance, was not so fortunate.

On Saturday, 25th of May, I had gone to Frankfort to hold divine service. I remained there till Monday the 3rd of June, and then news was brought to the town that the great cordon of the English, of which I have spoken above, was swiftly advancing. The inhabitants of the town, mostly women and children, left the town on Monday morning and trekked across the bridge, while I went on to the farm of Mr. Christiaan de Beer. On Wednesday the laager came there too, and as it was their intention to trek all through the night, in order to pass round the south wing of the English, I joined them, hoping to be behind the British the next morning.

The Frankfort laager had increased considerably since Monday, a number of Transvaal women having joined it, and now consisted of about seventy waggons. Some of these Transvaal women had been trekking about for a year, and, as may be expected, presented a very worn appearance. The sun had just set when the laager reached the farm of Christiaan de Beer, and shortly after passed it, and continued in the dark until the moon rose.

It was a long night passed under particularly sad circumstances. Whatever I had gone through in night marches during this war, this night added what I had not experienced before. This was the most miserable of all, on account of the presence of weak women and tender babes. If anyone wishes to witness real misery, let him go to a large women's laager.

In this laager there were girls who rode on horseback all through the night, and that on men's saddles, which had been so arranged that a girl could ride on it. I saw a little maiden take the riem and lead the team of oxen before the waggon. And then the poor little children! They moaned and cried at the bitter cold of the winter nights of June—poor mites in thin linen or cotton garments. Boys of ten and twelve had to drive on the cattle, and the parents had perforce to speak harshly to them, in order to help them in their bitter task.

How my soul rose up with indignation at the merciless force that had caused such scenes of misery—that exposed babes to the cold of the long winter nights, and drove women, who refused to be captured, into the wilderness.

The Basutos in our war with them robbed our cattle, burnt our houses, and killed our men, but they left our women and children unmolested. It was reserved for the British Empire, at the height of its power, its civilisation, and its enlightenment to make war on women and children. And yet, it was astonishing to see that the poor women, in spite of all this, were not utterly discouraged. How admirable they were. Whatever may have been the feeling deep down in their hearts, suppressed and stifled there, outwardly they were full of courage, and even to some extent cheerful. One of them even baked dampers at midnight, when we halted to give the weary oxen a rest. That, however, we ought not to have allowed, for not only did it cause delay, but our fires showed the enemy where we were.

After waiting for two hours we went on again. We made considerable progress until we came near to the farm of Mr. Gert Oosthuizen. There a waggon got stuck in the mud. This caused delay, and after the waggon had been extricated, day quickly began to dawn. Again we proceeded, and shortly before sunrise we had reached Concordia, the farm of Mr. Abraham Strauss. Here we learned that the English were approaching from Steil Drift. The waggons immediately went south-westward in the direction of Reitz over a ridge, and fifty men mounted their horses and hurried away. I also left the laager and hastened as fast as the mules could drag the spider.

After driving some distance I looked round and saw that the English had gained the ridge which we had just crossed. Everywhere on the horizon the ground seemed covered with horsemen. It began to be plain that there could be no escape for me, but still the animals were urged to go on as hard as they could. I was nearly a mile away from the laager, which meanwhile had fallen into the hands of the enemy, and almost out of danger when some troops came up. They were indignant that I had not remained with the laager, and ordered me with curses and indescribably foul language to halt. I did so, and surrendered myself.

"Outspan them horses!" a soldier shouted to me [they were mules].

I refused.

"I am your prisoner, not your servant," I said.

That was foolish on my part, for I was completely in their power, as I also later on admitted to an officer, but I was unaccustomed to being addressed in this way by common soldiers. The rage of my captors now rose to a climax. Two of them stuck cartridges into their rifles and an officer levelled his revolver at me. I then thought that, there being no question of principle here, it would be senseless to allow myself to be shot for a matter of this sort, and began with my son to unharness the mules.

Had they struck me then I should have understood that it was done under provocation; but that I should be struck in cold blood shortly after is another matter.

Everything was quiet, and I was busy obeying the orders of the soldiers, when an officer of higher rank than the one who wanted to shoot me came up, and in learning that there had been a dispute, and that I had made some objections, he struck me from behind on my head with the metal head of his horse-whip. I have forgiven him. Probably also he is dead from the effects of a dangerous wound he received shortly after.

We had then to inspan again, and were ordered to go to a Kaffir kraal at Graspan, in the vicinity. Thither also the laager and forty-three captured burghers were brought.

Some women visited the men there, amongst whom they had husbands and sons, and brought food and coffee. It was a sad sight to behold; the women wept and loudly expressed their fears that they would be separated from their husbands. I tried to encourage them, and besought them not to shed tears before the enemy.

With what contempt did the English look down upon us. Not some of them merely, but all. The lowest soldier vented his scorn in foul language, and even the highest officer there forgot that he should be a gentleman, and did not refrain from insulting language. As he rode past and cast his eye over the women, he exclaimed: "What! have we a Japanese show here?"

And it was in the presence of such men that our women shed tears.

Shortly after we had been captured three or four horsemen appeared on the same ridge over which we had come, but a volley from the soldiers soon caused them to disappear.

Meanwhile some officers came and asked me whether it was I who, in the fight on Platrand (Waggon Hill) on the 6th of January 1900, had bandaged an English officer, and when I had replied in the affirmative they were very friendly to me. And now followed some conversation with the soldiers. We learned that the force consisted of 200 men, who had left Steil Drift at two o'clock in the morning to capture us. Their column was advancing, and might be expected at any moment. My son also spoke to the soldiers and officers.

"What," he asked one of the latter, "do you think of a rescue?"

"Oh!" was the reply, "a couple of volleys will send it flying like the Boers we just fired at."

A soldier also said to his comrade that they had to keep an eye on my son, adding: "I bet my bottom sixpence the little beggar will get away yet."

And that is what did happen! We also learned that we were to be taken to Kroonstad, and this pleased me, for I did not wish to be marched into Harrismith as a prisoner-of-war. The time passed slowly till two o'clock in the afternoon. Then horsemen appeared on the ridge to the north-west.

The English thought this might be their column, and feared lest, not knowing that the laager had been captured, their troops might begin bombarding it. The officers placed themselves in a row, and made signals to the horsemen to come to the laager. They also sent out one of their men to give notice of the state of affairs. But he did not return, and when those on the ridge, after riding hither and thither as if undecided what to do, at last rushed forward towards the laager, and some others from the south and east came out on the flanks, there was no longer any doubt that they were Boers.

Orders were hastily given to resist the attack of the burghers. The soldiers caught their horses, and firing at once commenced, whilst we who had been captured were placed out of immediate danger behind a sod wall. The rifle fire now became very severe. The bullets flew in all directions. Many of us thought of what might now happen to the women and children. Soon we prisoners-of-war were being fired at by the burghers who were storming the laager from the south-east side, and our guards allowed us to seek refuge in one of the huts.

Hardly had we entered it, when we heard the English saying that our burghers who had attacked from the eastern side had retaken the laager. This was about twenty minutes after the fight had commenced. The English now sought shelter. Some ran into two or three huts; others into a cattle kraal between the huts. There they loopholed the walls and defended themselves bravely. In the turmoil two wounded soldiers were carried to the door of the hut in which the prisoners were, and I went out to help the doctor. Whilst I was thus engaged a bullet whistled past my ear, and I saw with surprise that it came from our burghers who had taken the laager from the east side. Ten of them had taken up a position near a hut and fired thence, a distance of about twenty yards, at the English in the cattle kraal, and at the same distance also at us.

"We are Boers!" shouted the prisoners. But this did not help, for they continued shooting. From the hut near which they were firing from, they saw two or three of the English guards amongst us, and thought probably that we were acting as guides to the English. Then I also ran forward and declared that we were Boers.

"If you are Boers, then come out," they cried.

My son and I with one or two more then ran swiftly out, and lay down behind the sod-wall from which we had gone into the hut. Here I saw how one of our burghers coming from the laager to the sod-wall was struck in the right breast and fell down. He called to a comrade. As he was coming I saw a bullet strike him too. I heard him exclaim as he sank down, "I am killed too." He died immediately, resting his head on my son's shoulder. A couple of yards behind us an English soldier was wounded. He cried aloud for water, and there was no one to give it him. Everywhere around men, as well as many oxen and horses, were being shot.

At the hut from which the Boers were firing at the English in the kraal I saw Commandant Davel. I noticed too that he was in command there, and concluded that he had led the charge. That was the case. It was he who, with his burghers, had stormed the laager from the east. I also saw Ex-General P. Fourie. My heart leapt with joy when I saw that brave old man, and I thought that the charge against him could not have been of a very serious nature if he were thus again permitted to carry arms.[7]

Shortly after we had got to the sod-wall Commandant Davel sent a white flag to the kraal to tell the English to surrender. I made use of this opportunity to go—it was only six or seven yards off to the position held by our burghers at the hut. There lay three burghers and one Englishman dead. My son armed himself again with the rifle of one of the dead men.

As was to be expected, the enemy refused to surrender, and the firing recommenced.

Meanwhile the waggons which were able to do so had begun to retire, and fifty of them reached a hollow out of range.

It would now certainly not have been long before we should have won the day completely, had not some scouts of General de Wet ridden up in haste and reported that a very large reinforcement of the enemy was swiftly approaching.

Before, therefore, the few that still remained in the huts and in the kraal could be forced to surrender, the burghers were ordered to retire. The hut where I was, was deserted. Then my son said to me that it was time for us also, and asked whether I would follow him if he went out first. Yes. He thereupon led the way, and I followed him. But we could not get to our spider. The mules were unharnessed, and the vehicle moreover stood in the line of fire; but we were rescued from this difficulty. The cart of Mr. Christiaan de Beer stood ready inspanned, and whilst my son drove away with it, with Miss de Beer, who was wounded through the arm, I led Mrs. de Beer and her daughter out.

It was a brave deed was that done by our burghers at Graspan. From the bare ridge on the one side and the open plain on the other they had stormed the laager. Eventually they were firing at the enemy at such short range as from one Kaffir hut to the other, and were between the waggons often face to face with the troops. They consisted merely of the bodyguard of the President under Commandant Davel and those of General de Wet. There was also a small number of Transvaalers, who had accompanied General de la Rey on his journey to the President and the Chief-Commandant. Together they numbered between seventy and eighty men. But although fewer in number than the enemy, they had again given proof that it is not possible for 200 Englishmen to move five miles away from their cannon, and then to be met without disaster by a handful of our burghers. And this I say not because I wish to convey that the English are not brave. I have never seen greater courage than that displayed by them at Graspan. But it remains a fact that, as regards mobility and the handling of a rifle, they are no match for the Boers; and that when they have no cannon or have not the odds greatly in their favour, they must yield to the Boers. It is only by brute force that they could overpower us.

Dearly was Graspan paid for! Not only were the waggons that had escaped retaken by the reinforcement, but thirteen of our burghers were killed and about fourteen seriously wounded.

And what did the English say about the laager that they had taken? They said that it was a convoy of General de Wet. This is one of the cases of the untruthfulness of their reports. It was a women's laager and nothing else, with not a hundred men in it, of whom some were non-combatants and others very old men. There was not a single officer amongst them, to lead those who were armed; and so it came about that there was no resistance whatever when the laager was attacked.

I left the laager when the reinforcement approached, and went to Reitz. In the evening I left the town and got to the farm of Mr. Piet de Jager, near Rout Kop, at about ten o'clock, whence, however, the people had fled in fear of the advancing English.

The large force of the English now proceeded in the direction of Heilbron and Kroonstad; but first buried their and our dead at Reitz. Two days after, our burghers came and reburied our dead (thirteen bodies) there better than the enemy had in their haste been able to do.

Before closing this chapter I must still mention that the worst that had yet befallen us took place towards the middle of July. Other troops arrived, this time from Platrand Station, Transvaal, following the track of the columns that had already traversed the country. They destroyed over again what had already been destroyed. Large flocks of sheep were collected everywhere and stabbed to death at different centres, in heaps of thousands upon thousands. In the town of Vrede there was a great slaughter, and in order to make it impossible for our people to live there the dead sheep were carried into the houses and left to rot.

Not only in the districts of Vrede and Harrismith did this occur, but everywhere throughout the State. When I was in the neighbourhood of Senekal it took place there also. I have myself seen places where the skeletons of the sheep lay, and could hardly imagine anything sadder than to see them lying dead in heaps. The destroyers also frequently drove large herds of young horses or such as were unfit for service into kraals, or crowded them into ditches, and shot them there by tens, fifties, or hundreds, and the air was charged with pestilential odours. The troops completely destroyed the houses. Where the stables and waggon-houses were not burnt down, the dwelling-houses were devoted to the flames; and where these were not burnt down, they were so utterly ruined as to become wholly uninhabitable. The floors were broken up, the panes of glass smashed with the sashes and all, the doors broken to pieces, the doorposts and the window-sills torn out. And if it was not too terrible to permit of its being so described, one might say that the work of these men was sometimes childish—as, for instance, when on one occasion they hanged the cats in a barn, and on another shot a horse inside a house, and then covered it up with a table.

To escape from the troops the women sometimes took refuge in mountainous parts of the country in caves and grottos. Often they escaped; but on other occasions the soldiers discovered them in these places of refuge. An officer found two women with their children in a cave, and expressed himself very strongly as to what he saw there, saying that he would send a photograph of the scene to the Graphic, as if the picture of such misery could do credit to himself and his nation! He wrote the following letter, and handed it to one of the women to deliver to her husband:—

As one of these women was indisposed the officer left them there; but he took the little servant-girls away.

To such acts as these the officers of the British columns had fallen. They were made the persecutors of defenceless women and children. They carried the work of incendiaries throughout the whole State. They became the butchers of thousands of horses and tens of thousands of sheep. How despicable it must have been in their own eyes to perpetrate such acts! When I think of all this, and look to the far future, then I ask myself: What will be said of this war when the history of it shall be written and read by the coming generations?

CHAPTER XVIII
PRESIDENT STEYN ALMOST CAPTURED

The things I needed most after my escape at Graspan were clothes, for all I possessed had been on the spider that I had had to leave behind. But even had I been able to rescue it, I should have found very little in it; for although I had heard an officer ordering the soldiers to lay their hands on nothing belonging to the burghers except arms and ammunition, from the Kaffir huts, in which I was held captive, I saw them removing from time to time from the spider, first one and then another article of clothing and concealing it about their saddles.

To provide, therefore, for my wants as far as clothes were concerned, I went to Fouriesburg. Not all at once could I recover my equanimity. The excitement of my capture and the fight at Graspan had, as may be well conceived, affected my nerves, and it was as if I could not clearly realise my escape. But when on the following Sunday, on the farm of Mr. Heymans, not far from Slabbert's Nek, I again saw a congregation before me, I once more completely regained my serenity of mind. It was clear to me that God had shown me that He held my fate in His Hand, and that I owed to His Mercy my liberty until the day of my capture. It was as if He had said, "Behold, I delivered you over to the enemy, and closed his hand upon you so that there was no deliverance. There is therefore nothing for you to be vain of in that you were the only one of your colleagues in the Free State who had up to that time not been taken prisoner. But I have delivered you because I have further work for you to do. Go forth, and do good to your people. Encourage the burghers. Seek out the neglected ones. Comfort the defenceless women and children in their oppression. Preach the gospel."

And I must declare it, that since the unfortunate occurrence at Nauwpoort I never had more courage than now, nor had I been able till then to address the burghers with more pleasure than now.

I arrived at Fouriesburg on Monday, the 10th of June, and was there most kindly entertained by Mr. Jacobus Bester and his wife. The English—so I heard there—had just quitted the village, and had in the previous month laid waste everything behind the Roodebergen. In the newspapers they published how many women and children they had captured, how many burghers they had killed, how many cattle they had carried off, how many tons of grain they had burned, how many ovens and stoves they had destroyed. Thus the British Generals, stern iconoclasts, had become the takers of ovens by storm. I discovered that not so many burghers by far had been captured or killed as the English accounts had stated. It was also surprising how much grain there was left, how much even had been rescued from the flames, and when on the Sunday after my arrival I held service in the church, I found the building nearly full of worshippers, and all were in fairly good spirits. There was, notwithstanding all the destruction, no thought of surrender. What advantage would we gain thereby? Should we get the looted cattle back? should we see the burnt-down houses rebuilt?—No. Then let the enemy do his worst. Let him ruin us completely if it was our fate to be overwhelmed. The English had to do with a people who were no barbarians, but with a race sprung from the same stock as themselves—with the offspring of ancestors who had sacrificed everything for their Faith—with descendants of forefathers who had contended for eighty years against a great world-power. Such means, therefore, as Great Britain had for the last fifty years been in the habit of employing against barbarous or semi-barbarous races had till now failed signally when applied to the people of South Africa.

I visited our people on their farms. At one place the family was living in a waggon-shed, at another in a stable, and again at another in a house restored sufficiently to make it to some extent habitable.

Some farms had not been visited by the enemy, whilst at others no damage had been done, excepting the destruction of the grain and the stoves! At one farm which I visited everything had been left as it had been. There was still a piano, and we spent the evening pleasantly. What thoughts passed in my mind when one of the young ladies sang well-known songs to the accompaniment of the piano, and when I remembered that the same girl, with her mother and sisters, had shortly before, whilst fleeing before the enemy, passed the night under the open sky. Both the mother and her daughters were cheerful here, and not here only, but everywhere I went. No wonder, then, that the hope that sooner or later we would gain our independence grew stronger and stronger in me. While I was at Fouriesburg the landdrost, Mr. M. Fourie, came from the Ficksburg Commando, and told me that he, Commandant Steyn, and Field-Cornet J. J. van Niekerk would be pleased if I could visit their commando. What else was I living for? I went gladly, and addressed the burghers, on week days as well as on Sundays. Amongst the Ficksburgers I found the song, written by the Rev. G. Thom, which has since become well known.

This song was not sent out by the Rev. G. Thom for any special purpose, but it seems that, as it was often sung by the prisoners-of-war in Ceylon, it was sent out in its entirety or in portions by different burghers to their relatives as their contribution to the scanty news they had to send.

Had the censor known how this song would be circulated among us, and sung everywhere, he would certainly not have let it pass. But perhaps we have a proof here that the censor, like Homer of old, was also occasionally apt to nod.

The song was sung by the burghers of Field-Cornet J. J. van Niekerk to the tune of the old Voortrekkers' hymn, "How pleasant are the days."

I afterwards had this sung wherever I held a service, always requesting the girls to make copies of it before the service. Mr. Mels' J. Meyers, then editor of the Brandwacht, afterwards printed a number of copies, which helped me much to spread the song. I have no doubt that these verses aided in a large measure to keep alive the courage of our people. While I was in these parts letters came regularly from British territory through Basutoland to the farm Brindisi, under the kind care of Mr. Middleton, the owner of the farm. I availed myself of the opportunity and sent letters to my wife, and received replies by the same means.

The relatives of the captives who had been sent to Ceylon often got news from that island, and it encouraged us much to see what a good spirit reigned amongst the exiles. Our ministers there seemed to be effecting much good by their services, and the younger captives attended schools which had been erected for them. Others passed their time in the making of beautiful handiwork of all descriptions out of suitable stone, such as brooches and similar articles, while others again worked on the roads for small wages, and in this manner obtained enough money to purchase paper and postage stamps, as one of them stated in his letter. But what particularly impressed me was the firm conviction they all had of the ultimate deliverance of our nation. Here is an extract from a letter of a young man to his mother:—

"We are full of courage, and do not mind how long we have to remain here, if only our people get the upper hand—which they certainly will."

From the Ficksburgers I went to the Ladybrand Commando, and held services for the burghers and the women.

On the farm Peru, belonging to Mrs. A. Ecksteen, senior, I heard that the English wanted to remove, on the 19th of April 1901, the mother-in-law of Mrs. Ecksteen. As the old lady was eighty years of age, and, moreover, suffered from a weak heart, Mrs. Ecksteen protested against this deportation, whereupon the officer in command said, "She will have to go, even if she were dead." And so the old woman was forced to go on the waggon. At Karba, not far from there, the English deported Mrs. A. Ecksteen, junior, on the same day, notwithstanding her repeated assurances that she could not possibly go. A son of Dr. Wilson, the practitioner at Karba, had carried a letter from his father to the military, acquainting them with Mrs. Ecksteen's condition. But the lad got his ears boxed, and was taken prisoner (he was, however, released on the following day); and the officer said to the woman, "You'll have to go." Mrs. Ecksteen was thereupon taken to the mine on the farm Monastery, along with the other Ecksteens; she there found shelter under a waggon, but was taken during the night into a tin shanty, of which all the doors and windows had been destroyed, and under such circumstances she gave birth to a daughter!

The following morning the English realised what an inhuman act they had committed, and left the Ecksteens there with the following note:—

By mistake! and that with the woman before their eyes and the letter of the doctor in their hands!

But this is by no means the only case of this sort. A British officer had also, shortly before, taken away Mrs. Greyling, an old woman aged eighty-five, from her farm, Magermanshoek, at Korannaberg. The poor old woman could no longer walk and was totally blind. When her son inquired whether she could not travel in her spider, his request was refused and the vehicle burnt. She was carried to a waggon on a chair, and conveyed to Winburg.

I mention these cases not as exceptions, but as examples of what continually took place.

Having returned to the Ficksburg Commando on the 1st of July, I found that my son had had an accident through the explosion of a Martini-Henry cartridge in his face. This forced us to remain till the 16th at the farm Franschhoek, belonging to Field-Cornet J. J. van Niekerk. I wish here to record my thanks for the kindness of all the families there, and especially for that shown by Mrs. J. J. van Niekerk and Mrs. Meyer in nursing my son. Before leaving Franschhoek I heard of the narrow escape of our President at Reitz. He had gone thither with his staff on the evening of the 10th of July. Early the next morning his cook, a coloured boy named Ruiter, rushed into the tent where the President was sleeping, shouting, "The English are here." The President then hastily went out, without a jacket and with a nightcap on his head, and ran to the stable where his horse was. The saddle was not near at hand, and Mr. Curlewis hurriedly put his own saddle on the horse. Without bridle or bit, and with only the riem of the halter in the horse's mouth, the President galloped away. A soldier followed and shot at him; but the President's horse was fresh, and gained on the tired steed of the soldier, until he was out of danger. Ruiter wanted to follow the President, but when fired on he allowed himself to be captured. Subsequently, however, he escaped, and related that, when they had asked him who it was that had ridden off, he had answered, "It's only a Boer." On a former occasion the President had slept in a house, and it seems that the majority of the English had surrounded that same house, and thus they had given him the chance of escaping.

But the whole of his staff were taken prisoners, with the exception of the Government Secretary, Mr. J. W. C. Brebner, who was absent on leave. The brave Commandant, Mr. Davel, who was chief of the bodyguard, was also captured. Besides the President only seven men of the bodyguard escaped. An English officer called it luck. We call it by another name.

All the money and State documents fell into the hands of the English. What made the loss of the documents a serious matter for us, was that amongst them was a letter from the Government of the South African Republic giving expression to a very despondent spirit about the condition of affairs, and saying that there was danger that the continuation of the struggle would only tend more and more to the ruin of our people, and that the time was gone by when matters could be allowed to drift on.[10] To this President Steyn wrote a long reply, dated 15th May 1901, in which he expressed his great regret at this despatch of the Transvaal Government. He said that although in the Free State they had also had to see men laying down their arms, yet that it had been surmounted; also that although ammunition had for a long time been scarce, yet there was still after every fight enough to begin the next one with.

As to the question, what prospect there was of continuing the struggle any longer, he would ask, what prospect two little Republics had had from the beginning of winning in a struggle against the mighty England? And if at the commencement we had put our trust in God, why should we now not continue to do so? He also pointed out that if our cause were utterly hopeless in Europe, we should certainly have heard of it from our Deputation. He further assured the Transvaal Government that even if, in case of an armistice, the people of the Free State were consulted, the resolution of those men who still stood their ground would be not to lay down their arms.

He also disapproved of the resolution of the Transvaal Government, to ask Lord Kitchener to be allowed to send somebody to Europe, because thereby we exposed our hand to the enemy; and he added that he was very sorry such a resolution had been taken without first consulting the Free State.

As regards the fear expressed by the Transvaal Government that they and the officers would be left without burghers in the field, the President said that in the Free State, even if the Government and the officers surrendered themselves, the people would not do so. He also showed how disastrous it would be if the Free State, which had offered up not only its blood and its treasure, but had also thrown its independence into the scale on behalf of the sister Republic, were deserted by that Republic. That then all reliance of Africander upon Africander, and also all co-operation, would be for ever destroyed, and that it was a chimera to believe that thereafter the nation would rise again. If we wished to remain a people, now was the time to endure to the end.

After referring to some matter which he had read of in the newspapers, he continued in the following forcible language: "All these things make me believe that we should commit national suicide if we now give in. Therefore, brothers, continue to stand firm! Do not make our suffering and all our efforts in the past to no purpose, and our trust in the God of our fathers be turned to mockery. Encourage rather your weaker brethren." The President concluded this very remarkable letter with the question whether we were to desert the colonial burghers a second time. "May God forbid it!" he said.

Although the unfortunate letter of the Government of the South African Republic was three months old, and the feeling in the Transvaal had since its date utterly changed, this sad correspondence, as was to be expected, gave fresh courage to the English.

Both letters were telegraphed, abbreviated and mutilated, to England, and the Transvaal letter had, as I subsequently read in the newspapers, a beneficial influence (for England) in parliamentary circles. But, as I have already said, a different spirit had arisen in the Transvaal. This President Steyn found when immediately after the fight at Graspan he, together with General de Wet, Judge Hertzog, and General de la Rey, visited the South African Republic. He had not rested, after receipt of the letter from the Transvaal Government, but had immediately summoned not only General de Wet and Judge Hertzog, but also the Transvaal General de la Rey (who had not been present at the Transvaal meeting), to accompany him to the South African Republic. When he arrived in that Republic he found that the Government had quite recovered from its despondency. This had been brought about especially by the following circumstance: the Government had carried out its resolution to ask Lord Kitchener's leave to send a delegate to Europe for the purpose of acquainting President Kruger and the Deputation with our condition, and to consult with them as to the continuance of the struggle. Lord Kitchener had refused to grant this, but had given permission to send a cablegram in the code of the Netherlands consul. The State Attorney, General Smuts, and Advocate de Wet had gone to Standerton, and sent a telegram in which the state of affairs was represented in as dark a light as possible. After a fortnight the reply came. It was short, and stated that although there was then no chance of intervention, we should nevertheless continue: the telegram said also that the two Republics should co-operate. This was said in reference to a statement in the Transvaal telegram saying that President Steyn did not approve of giving in. Moreover, two fights, in which our arms had been victorious and which took place just at that period of despondency, had served to encourage the Transvaal Government. One at Vlakfontein, where General Kemp, and the other at Welmanrust, where Commandant Muller had engaged the English. These were important fights, and refuted what had been stated in the letter of the Transvaal Government to the effect that no battle of any importance could any more be fought. Thus one thing and another had brought about such a change in the minds of the Transvaal Government, that when the President and his party met them there was no sign of dejection, and it was difficult to believe that they were the same persons who had instructed the State Secretary to write the letter of the 10th of May.

CHAPTER XIX
DAYS OF THANKSGIVING AND HUMILIATION

While President Steyn was in the Transvaal the two Governments held a combined session, and prepared a proclamation in which the people were acquainted with what the Government of the Transvaal had telegraphed to President Kruger, and what the reply had been. This document contained, besides the firm resolve of both Governments to continue the war with all possible vigour, a proclamation calling upon everyone to join in a general thanksgiving on the 8th of August 1901, and in a general day of prayer on the 9th. Not only were the dates fixed and the objects for prayer and thanksgiving stated, but the proclamation also admonished us in what spirit we should set about it. Very rarely, I believe, has a proclamation been issued by a Government of modern times couched in similar terms.

I was with the Ficksburg burghers when this proclamation was read to them, and when I arrived at Fouriesburg, on the 16th of July, I received a letter from the President asking me to be with him during the days of thanksgiving and humiliation. I now set out to seek him, where he had directed me, somewhere in the neighbourhood of Nauwpoort.

It so happened that just on the 29th of July I passed the spot where General Hunter had encamped a year before, and where he had received the arms of many of the burghers who had given up the struggle at the unfortunate surrender of Prinsloo. Once more I marked the sharp contrast of light and shadow on the proud mountains; again I gazed on the beauty and grandeur of cliff, ravine, and torrent, and again I felt my insignificance in the awful presence of Nature. But I was now in a different mood from that in which I was a year before. Then I was despondent and discouraged; now I was buoyant and looked forward hopefully. Then all was dark about me; now I looked up into the blue sky, and the future seemed nearly as bright and unclouded as the blue overhead. What a change the year had wrought. My son and I rode through the mountains at Nauwpoort on the following day, and remained overnight under the roof of Mr. Abraham NaudÉ. On the following day I rode to the house of Mr. Jan Roos, to get further news about the whereabouts of the President, as the landdrost, Mr. Jan Brand Wessels, stayed there. There I heard about a gallant thing done by the burghers of Harrismith under Commandant Jan Jacobsz. Early on the morning of 28th July a force of English, numbering about 200, and led by a Kaffir, had attacked one of our guards in a kopje not far from Mr. Frederick Moolman's house. The guards fled, abandoning horses and everything else. Soon news of what had happened was brought to Field-Cornet Frans Jacobsz. He hurried to the scene with a handful of men and threw the English into confusion by firing on them. When the men belonging to the guard had procured new horses on the farm of Mr. Marthinus de Jager, they returned and took part in the fight. The result of all this was that instead of the force, which had come from Harrismith, capturing the burghers of Commandant Jacobsz, 43 of them were taken prisoners and several killed and wounded. On our side only Field-Cornet Jacobsz was wounded.

The second day, after having passed through Nauwpoort, I found the President on the farm of Mr. Wessel NaudÉ. Although he was somewhat indisposed, he was as buoyant as ever and showed no signs of discouragement. He told me, however, that he missed the presence of the old members of his Government and of his bodyguard very much. Mr. Hendrik van Niekerk, captain of the scouting corps raised in connection with the bodyguard, had been appointed in the place of Commandant Davel.

The head of our State then was still full of hope!

How I then, as always, envied persons of an optimistic nature, persons who never gave way to despair! If there were not men like President Steyn and General de Wet in the world, no obstacles, seemingly insuperable, would ever be surmounted.

We held the solemn day of thanksgiving and of prayer—the first on the farm of Mr. Nicolaas Kruger, the second on the farm of Mr. Willem Blignaut, and then I parted from our lovable and indomitable President, in the hope of joining him shortly afterwards. But this did not happen until the 24th of October.

CHAPTER XX
ANOTHER BRITISH PROCLAMATION

I went to Witzieshoek to visit my friend Mr. J. J. Ross. What an Elim the place was to me during the week I stayed there. The surroundings seemed to transport me two years back into the past. His children reminded me of my own!

And the books in the study! I read—no, I tasted—here a line from this author, there a page from another, which is wrong!—oh, I know that! But still it satisfies a person of my temperament and tastes no less than, though perhaps more ethereally, it does the reader—yes, the reader—to devour every book, word for word, that he attacks.

I skimmed—not that I always do this with books: no, generally I too read; but now I merely skimmed—here a little and there a little. Besides, I had no time for reading. But I had experienced enough to know now, after having had so many months of the war, where to seek the greatest minds.

I saw that the man who dips his pen in ink is greater than he who stains his sword with blood. The man who, out of sight and unaffected by the world's turmoil, gives his life to the thoughts which are born in travail, and which, whatever men may say, do rule the world—that man is greater than he who, in the great world outside, is made a hero of by a senseless rabble, because he leads a hundred thousand men. This man leads an army; that man leads the world. When I was at Witzieshoek, the English passed through Harrismith to Bethlehem, as they were in the habit of doing almost every week. This time they had an extract from a proclamation by Lord Kitchener, which they left behind in their camps, on the buttresses of the bridge over Elands River, and elsewhere. It was not long before the full text of the proclamation[11] appeared, and this was not only sent to the Governments, but officers came out with flags of truce to the different commandos.

This proclamation made known that the officers and members of the Government would be banished from South Africa if they did not surrender before the 15th of September 1901; and that the cost of support of the families of all burghers who were still under arms on that date would be claimable against such burghers, and would be a charge upon their properties, movable as well as immovable. The English had therefore again issued a proclamation. And how was this received by our burghers?

Many people declared that this proclamation was a sign of weakness; others spoke of it with the utmost contempt; the majority ignored it, and everyone looked forward to the 15th September, to see if it would actually be the case, as everyone expected that this proclamation would have no effect.

Meanwhile there was, as very frequently was the case, a great deal of talk about peace. Peace would, it was said, come on the 20th of September. But the 20th of September came and went, and there was no peace. After that I never again heard that a day and date had been fixed on which there would come an end to the war.

From Witzieshoek I went to look for the President, but with the poor horses that I had I could not reach the place where he was. Meanwhile I held services wherever I could, both on week-days and Sundays, and where opportunity offered I noted down my experiences on commando. In this work I had to cope with peculiar difficulties. Sometimes I wrote at a table, whilst at other times a window-sill served me as writing-desk; but the greatest portion of my book was written on the seat of my cart, whilst I sat crouched on the bottom. I did not always have good ink, and the first pages of my notes are written in various shades; I had even to use "Nastagal" ink, made by our women. This ink was to me a new example of how inventive the Africanders are. Speaking of this gives me the opportunity of saying something about the many ways in which our people managed to lighten their burden of misery.

Our boots wore out, and men were appointed to tan hides and make boots; even women occupied themselves in this kind of work. The war had not been going for fifteen months when there was a great scarcity of soap. Then our mothers and sisters boiled a very serviceable article with the help of the ashes of mealie-cobs and of various weeds. The English destroyed the mills everywhere; but mills were mounted on waggons and carried off when the English approached. One such mill ground more than fifty bags of corn in twenty-four hours. Our corn was done before we had been fighting a year; but peas, mealies, kaffir-corn, rye, acorns, and dried peaches were used as substitutes. Through dire necessity a fine old handicraft of our great grandmothers was revived: the spinning of wool, which was still plentiful in spite of the devastation of the enemy. Our mothers and wives and daughters span wool beautifully, considering the nature of their spinning machines. Spinning-wheels were fabricated in various ways from old sewing-machines, fruit-peelers, and so forth. I have seen socks knitted of yarn spun by these primitive machines, as fine and certainly stronger than those that can be bought in shops. Our salt was at last quite exhausted, and this was a cause of great anxiety, especially in districts such as Harrismith, where there were no salt-pans; but here again our distress was relieved, for wells were dug in the pans, where no one would have thought of digging before, and salt water was found. "Everything," it was often remarked, "was scarce; but nothing completely lacking."

We toiled or plodded along, suffering in silence, where there was no help for it, but we generally managed to find a way out of the difficulty. No suffering was too severe, no sacrifice too great but was gladly undergone or made for the realisation of the great ideal we were striving for.

What particularly struck me during this period was the boundless wealth of the Orange Free State. Where all the cattle came from after the immense devastation by the enemy was beyond my comprehension. We never were in want of grain, notwithstanding the tens of thousands of tons of wheat and maize destroyed or rendered unfit for consumption by the British. And when on a few farms in the grain districts and elsewhere there was still some wheat over, the fields were again waving, and at the harvest time they stood yellow for reaping. The problem of clothing was also solved. I saw several overcoats made from sheepskins, which answered well. Some burghers wore complete suits made of leather. When one's clothes wore out they were mended with patches of leather, and then the garments were called "armoured" coats or pairs of trousers. Besides this, money was taken to Basutoland, and great quantities of clothing were bought and secretly brought to the Free State. This was constantly done notwithstanding the strict vigilance of the enemy.

And then there was the "shaking out" of soldiers; that is, when a soldier was captured his clothes were taken from him and worn by such burghers as needed them.

Who will condemn this action?

The enemy had not only cut off all our means of import, so that we were completely isolated, but had done their utmost to burn our clothes wherever they could. Whenever, then, a soldier fell into our hands, the English supplied us with a suit of clothes.

They provided us in the same way with ammunition. Since the commencement of 1901 the scarcity of ammunition had caused us much anxiety. Many who were loyal began to ask with misgivings whether this would not ultimately force us to surrender. But our enemy supplied us. In the later stages of the war we had scarcely any ammunition at all, except what we got from England. We were completely dependent on Great Britain, who took care that we should never be wholly in need. As President Steyn wrote to the Transvaal Government: "After every fight we had enough ammunition to commence another with." Towards the end of the war one seldom saw burghers armed with Mausers. The enemy were fought with their own rifles and their own ammunition. Has this often happened in the history of the world? Sunday, 15th of September, was the day fixed by Lord Kitchener on which the officers and men were given a last opportunity to lay down their arms without detriment to themselves. The day came, and who had surrendered? I only heard of two cases in the districts of Vrede and Harrismith. Besides these, General Brand reported that about twenty men from his districts had gone to the enemy. I also heard of one or two cases in other parts of our country. The proclamation thus was of little effect. There had been a time when the Boers fell like ripe grain before the scythe of British proclamations. That time was passed, and the big words and threats of Lord Kitchener were now of no effect.

This must be attributed partly to the fact that Lord Roberts had not acted in good faith in relation to what he had promised in his proclamations; but the chief cause of the firmness of the burghers now was owing, as General de Wet used to say, to the men having been "sifted": the chaff was gone, the wheat had remained. The winds of destruction and the rain-torrents of devastation had finished their work of attrition on the mountain of Africanderdom. The soft loose soil had been washed away, only the bed-rock remained.

And what shall I say of those—our own flesh and blood—who went over to the enemy?

Renegades!—What can I say?

That most of them gave up their arms to the enemy in moments of despondency I can understand, for I, too, know what dejection is; but that there were others who drew sword for the English and against us is hard to understand.

But the traitor, God will punish. It must not, however, be forgotten that it is not unprecedented in an unformed nation for the faint-hearted to desert to the enemy. Such a nation still lacks the powerful esprit de corps which is born of the traditions of the past. There were thousands of deserters, traitors, and renegades amongst the Americans during their great struggle. But the fierce flame of this war has welded us together. The war with England towers in our past as something mighty and heroic. The future must always be influenced by it, and our children, looking back, will realise how close the ties are between themselves and their fathers, and thereby they will be drawn together into one united people.

CHAPTER XXI
HOW THE PRESIDENT PASSED HIS TIME

On Sunday, 29th September 1901, I held services in the house of Mr. Gerrit Aveling at Wagenmakers Vlei, after having, during the past week, addressed the burghers in different parts of the district of Vrede. It was my intention now to visit my own congregation, and I had already written to Commandant Meyer to arrange for the holding of services for his men. But this could not take place. The English had already marched out of Harrismith, and on Monday we heard that they had arrived in the neighbourhood of Sandhurst, the farm of Mr. Hermanus Wessels. The people living in the vicinity of where I was immediately took to flight, and I temporarily joined the company of Mr. Jan Adendorf.

On Tuesday the English came as far as the farm of Mr. Adendorf, Christina, and from there a small number of them went to Natal, while the rest were sent about seizing cattle everywhere and otherwise conducting themselves after their wont. They did not, however, burn down houses now, but where they found property that the owners had carried out of their houses and hidden, they consigned this to the flames.

My son was now taken prisoner by the English, along with Assistant Field-Cornet Gert van Deventer, and the Burgher Thys Uys. He had remained behind to fight. One evening it appeared that the English were retiring from Ottershoek to Brakfontein, and Field-Cornet van Deventer thought it was safe enough to sleep in a house. He with the two others therefore went to the homestead of Mrs. Swart. But there was a Kaffir there who saw them, and when it got dark he went and informed the English. The consequence was that at daylight the following morning these three, together with the two little sons of Mrs. Swart, were taken prisoners. The news was brought me when I was not far from Woodside. It may be imagined that after my son and I had been chums for so long I felt very lonely. But I was more anxious about him than about myself, because I knew that he would be uneasy about me. It was some consolation, however, that he had been captured and not killed. Meanwhile I had almost without noticing got into a women's laager. During the flight the company in which one finds oneself keeps increasing in numbers—vires acquirit eundo. And now I thought that it was not advisable to remain in a women's laager; for I did not wish to expose myself to the chance of being captured again in the same manner as on the 6th of June at Graspan. Therefore, on the day after the news reached me of my son's capture, I took leave of the good friends with whom I had spent some days, and went to General Wessels. I arrived there the following day, having spent the night at the farm of Mr. Kootje Muller.

Others of the English had meanwhile come from Standerton and reached Woodside; and before I was well aware of it I was again one of a number of fugitives. Separating myself from them, when I learnt that the English had retired from Woodside, I soon found myself, now for the third time, again in a laager of women. This laager was a Harrismith one, under Ex-Commandant Truter and Mr. James Howell. I now thought that I should be able to accompany this laager to the district of Harrismith, and thus realise my wish to visit my own congregation. But in this I was again disappointed, for on Tuesday, the 15th of October, we nearly drove into the English, who were at Newmarket. I therefore left them, and for the present gave up the idea of visiting the Harrismith people. An incorrect report, stating that the English were advancing from Frankfort up the Wilge River, prevented my crossing that river, as I had intended to do, and I remained the fellow-fugitive of Mr. Piet de Jager for a week. From his farm I then went to his brother's, Michal de Jager, and when I had been there two days I heard from the President. He wrote me a letter wherein he informed me where I should find him. I started immediately, and on the 24th of October I arrived in his laager, and resolved, at his friendly request, to remain with him.

Life was now again the old commando life that I had not known since January. We knew of no roof but that which spreads over all the earth. On the grass we spent our time, sitting by our carts or saddles, or lying down where we happened to be. We ate, drank, and slept under the open sky. It did sometimes happen that the housewives invited their President to their tables, and that such invitations were not declined; but he never went to sleep in a house unless rainy weather forced him to do so. And even this was not done whenever the enemy was in the vicinity.

Commandant van Niekerk constantly received reports from his outposts, which were placed at a certain distance from the laager. They always kept him informed as to the movements of the enemy, and he made the little laager shift every evening according to circumstances. We very seldom slept at the same place on two consecutive nights, and thus, in spite of ourselves, had to undergo the penalty of wandering. To be always ready for what might happen, the horses were brought from the veld every morning at two o'clock and held until the patrols brought a report later in the morning that all was safe.

The President's horse stood ready saddled from that hour. The President never took off his boots at night, and was therefore ready every moment to mount his horse. I always took off my boots at night, unless the enemy was very near. But I was more circumspect with regard to the safety of my MS. I never let it off my person. I made a little bag of old linen, placed my MS. in it, and wore it under my waistcoat, whenever the English were approaching. If anything should happen there would be a chance, provided the enemy did not "shake me out," that my book would not be lost for the second time as at Graspan.

The distance which we "trekked" every night depended upon how far we were away from the English. If they were far away, we only travelled three or four miles; if they came nearer, we were sometimes obliged to push on during the whole night in order to pass through between them or to get round them.

So I again led the old commando life. But though we were exposed to much discomfort, the time passed rapidly, especially as we had something to read in the laager. Newspapers, picked up where the English had camped, reached us from all sides. And before the carts were done away with, we carried on them a small library. Here is an incomplete catalogue of our books: Krieg und Frieden, a German translation of Tolstoi's War and Peace, Anna KarÉnina, some books of poetry, a book on physics, a history of the American War, some theological works, a little book containing extracts from Seneca in English, a biography of Savonarola. My pastime was writing. I was incessantly sitting cramped at the seat of my cart writing my notes.

Yes, the time passed rapidly! Before we were aware of it a week was gone, and Sunday with its divine service had come. This consoled me, for the thought constantly occurred to me that we were not crawling but flying towards the end.

CHAPTER XXII
A DESPATCH FROM THE GOVERNMENT OF THE SOUTH AFRICAN REPUBLIC

I had hardly arrived in President Steyn's laager when I heard of a proclamation issued by him, in consultation with the Council of War, dated the 2nd of November 1901, whereby it was made lawful that boys of fourteen years old, when their physical condition and health permitted, should be "commandeered."

It was as if a sword had pierced my heart when I heard of this proclamation. Our Government had signalled that the Fatherland expected not only every man, but also every child to do his duty.

It was at this time, perhaps in consequence of this proclamation, that the English began to tear away little boys from their mothers, and not only those of fourteen and over, but also those under that age; even children of eight were mercilessly dragged away.

Immediately after I had joined the President his laager proceeded in the direction of Lindley. We had now an opportunity of visiting our hospital under the charge of Dr. Fourie, at the farm of Mr. David Malan. Then we went in the direction of Senekal to meet General Kritzinger, who had been driven over the border of the Cape Colony by General French, and was now staying in the Free State to let his horses rest a while. On Sunday, the 3rd of November, we held service, near Biddulphsberg, on the farm of Mr. Leendert Muller, and there General Kritzinger was also present. The President then resolved to be at Little Clocolan on the following Sunday, to address the colonists under Kritzinger on the occasion of divine service being held. This took place at the farm of Mrs. Bornman. On our way thither something occurred which caused some uneasiness to the President and the members of the Executive Council. General de Wet sent a report after him, stating that a letter had arrived from the Transvaal, and he asked President Steyn to fix a place where the Executive Council could meet for the purpose of considering that letter. The President fixed on the house of Christoffel de Jager at Sand River, and rode back twelve miles to that spot.

The letter in question asked whether we should not again try to enter into negotiations with the British Government, and to make a proposal for Peace. The Transvaal Government proposed that as a basis of negotiation there might be discussed such points as equal rights for the Dutch and English languages, religious liberty, costs of the war, an offensive and defensive alliance as far as South Africa was concerned, etc.

President Steyn replied on behalf of the Executive Council, that in his reply to Lord Kitchener he had already proposed to negotiate upon the condition that the Republics should retain their independence, and that the result was well known. Further, he said that he could not discuss all the points suggested by the Transvaal Government seriatim, but if there was to be a proposal for an offensive or defensive alliance with England, then we might as well recall the Deputation from Europe.

CHAPTER XXIII
THE PRESIDENT RETURNS TO THE PLAINS

We had a pleasant time in the grain districts. There was an abundance of bread and no scarcity of slaughter-cattle. We also found wild-honey in the fissures of the rocks. Everything looked fresh and full of life in the early spring. The veld was green, and the trees heavily laden with young fruit gave promise of a good harvest. All the wheat-fields looked splendid, and at many places we noticed that people would reap where they had not sown; for everywhere there were fields where the seed which had fallen on the ground the previous year had again sprouted and was growing luxuriantly enough to be harvested. What a beautiful mountainous country the "Conquered Territory" is! Is it not the Crown of the Orange Free State?

We spent a pleasant time; but it could not continue, as we were in danger of English columns which were constantly marching to and fro from Winburg to Bethlehem. One of these columns, which was just then passing from Bethlehem to Senekal, took our only Africander medical man, Dr. Fourie, prisoner in his hospital at the farm of David Malan. We should now have been wholly without a doctor if Mr. Poutsma, who on the occasion of General de Wet's second attempt to enter the Cape Colony had been captured by the English, had not cast in his lot with us again. The English had let him return to Holland, and now he had come back from there to South Africa. He was welcomed by us, and the house of Mrs. de Jager at the farm Bezuidenhout's Drift on Wilge River was arranged as a hospital for him.

We could not then remain in the "Conquered Territory." We therefore resolved to return to the plains around Lindley and Reitz. On Sunday, the 10th of November, we were on the farm of Mr. Claesens, near Wonder Kop, and I held service under the trees in the garden there for the burghers, and for two large women's laagers, that were fleeing for fear of the English.

Three days after we were at the farm of Mr. W. Prinsloo. Here General de Wet visited the President, and a meeting of the Executive Council was held.

The General informed the President here that it was his intention to form a large flying commando for service against the English wherever an opportunity offered. This commando was to consist of burghers from Bethlehem under General Prinsloo and Commandant Olivier; and, further, of men from Heilbron under Commandant van Coller; Kroonstad, under Commandant Celliers; Ladybrand, under Commandant Koen; Vrede, under Commandant Botha; and the Transvaalers who were at that time in Harrismith district, under Commandant Mears.

General de Wet left in the afternoon, and in the evening we trekked towards Wit Kop, and halted for the night on the ledges near Mr. Krog's farm, between Wit Kop and Wonder Kop.

The English were once more on the road from Winburg to Senekal, and Commandant van Niekerk intended passing round their front; but just as he was on the point of doing this, a false report was brought him that a force of English was also approaching Senekal from Harrismith, and that they had got as far as Rexford.

The Commandant now determined to pass round the rear of the enemy, and a start was made in the afternoon. We had not, however, progressed very far before we learned that the report that the English were at Rexford was untrue. Commandant van Niekerk now decided to carry out his original intention, and the commando returned to the ledges by a round-about way.

The following day, Sunday, the commando again proceeded, passing over Driekuil and to the east of Tafel Kop, where we halted until dark.

In the clear moonlight we then went on, passing east of Biddulphsberg, and at eleven o'clock we were near Leendert Muller's farm. There an occurrence took place which afforded a slight change in the monotony of the night march. Our scouts, who rode about two hundred yards ahead, saw two horsemen riding towards them and put them to flight. They were very nearly fired upon, but luckily both parties perceived betimes that they were friends.

The two men proved to be burghers, who, along with some others, had charge of a women's laager not far off. They told us that on the west the English from Winburg had advanced as far as the farm of Christoffel de Jager—which fact we were aware of ourselves—and that to the east there were others from Bethlehem, at Scheur Klip; and furthermore, that there were British camps in front of us at Blauw Kopje and elsewhere.

It was now too dangerous to go on, and there was nothing to be done but to return, which we did. And when the eastern sky was reddening with the light of dawn, we were back on the farm Driekuil.

It was lucky for us that we did this, for on Tuesday morning the English from Bethlehem made a sortie towards Kaffir's Kop, which lay directly in our route. We remained in the neighbourhood of Driekuil till Thursday, 28th November, and then rode through the night over Pietersdal, Bester's Kop, and across the Bethlehem road, till we reached the farm Nooitgedacht, near Kaffir's Kop.

On the following morning we were in the immediate vicinity of a fight which General de Wet was having with the English not far south of Lindley. He arrested their progress, and they retired that night to the farm of Caspar Kruger at Victoria Spruit.

On the following day the English had disappeared in the direction of Heilbron, abandoning five waggons. These waggons were loaded with flour, sugar, tobacco, blankets and tents.

It was in the beginning of December that we returned to the plains, and on the 3rd and 4th the President visited the great flying commando at Lindley. On the second day he addressed the men.

Here we met Judge Hertzog, who had come from the western districts to discuss some important matters with President Steyn. He remained with the President, while he awaited an answer to a letter written to the Transvaal with relation to his visit there.

A service was to be held in the town on Sunday, the 8th of December. Instead of this a fight took place there. The English were seen early on that day advancing from Valsch River bridge.

General de Wet gave orders that one portion of the burghers should take up positions on either side of the Kroonstad road, and the others a position to the east of it, near the Plat Kopje. I witnessed the whole affair. The enemy were in overwhelming force, and slowly advanced in widely extended order. It was impossible for our men to hold their positions. The burghers on the Kroonstad road were the first to give way. They took up positions on the kopjes where, more than a year before, the Yeomanry had surrendered. Shortly after the men on the right flank at the Plat Kop had also to retire. I then saw large numbers of the English come out over the ridges. How few our little groups of burghers seemed in comparison to the large numbers that made their appearance there. Everything was now in the power of the English. They could bombard the Yeomanry kopjes, and our burghers had to desert them also. It was not long before the whole commando was in full retreat towards Elandsfontein.

During the next couple of days the English did as they liked, without any resistance being offered them. They went about everywhere in the neighbourhood, devastated the farms, and took away the cattle with which our people had not fled.

When the President returned there on the 16th of December, after the departure of the English, I heard from the women how sadly things had gone. They were, it is true, not taken away, but they were driven out of their houses, and had to see their dwellings burnt down or destroyed before their very eyes. Could inhumanity go further? If the English did not wish to exterminate us, what then did they mean by driving weak women and children out of doors and destroying the houses? All the food of the women was carried away or scattered upon the ground; and it was only through the kind-heartedness of here and there a more humane officer, or of some simple "Tommy," that a dish of flour was secretly left behind for the housewife. What made everything still more sad was the great service rendered by traitorous Africanders as guides to the enemy.

Mrs. Gert van Niekerk of Windbult told me what had happened to her before the eyes of one of these, Ex-General Piet de Wet. Alas! that I should have to record it, but—

"'Tis true, 'tis pity,
And pity 'tis, 'tis true."

These Africanders made it possible for the English to travel long distances at night, and, acquainted as they were with the habits of their countrymen, they enabled the English to capture Boers, and to seize cattle, where otherwise they would have been unable to do so, or at least could not have done so without infinitely more trouble. How must every noble sentiment have been stifled in these men! It is impossible to comprehend how they could have endured listening to the constant abuse which in the camps was heaped on their own race—incomprehensible how they could constantly, from one farm to another, look on the misery which they were helping to bring upon women and children—who were their own flesh and blood.

From Mrs. Niekerk, then, I heard how she had fared. The English came to the farm Windbult about ten o'clock on the 10th of December, and immediately began to strike the doors, windows, and furniture with axes and hammers, smashing and demolishing everything. If Mrs. van Niekerk attempted to save anything it was snatched from her hands and broken to atoms. But her daughter, helped by an Africander serving under the English, succeeded in carrying out some beds, chairs, and smaller articles.

Meanwhile ex-General de Wet carried on a conversation with Mrs. van Niekerk, whom he had formerly, as her neighbour, known very intimately. This conversation ran nearly as follows:—

P. de Wet. Do tell the burghers that it is a lost cause. Try to persuade them that they are blindly going astray.

Mrs. v. Niekerk. I will do no such thing.

P. de Wet. It is against the Bible to continue the war; for we read that a king must consider if with ten thousand men he is able to meet his opponent who is coming against him with twenty thousand.

Mrs. v. Niekerk. But, Piet, you were a Commandant yourself; what did you think of our small numbers against our mighty foe then? P. de Wet. My eyes were opened later. I have seen my mistake.... But it is just Christian de Wet and old Steyn who keep the thing going by telling lies to the burghers.

Mrs. van Niekerk had meanwhile kept her eyes constantly fixed on the soldiers who were destroying her property. Pointing at the ruins, she appealed to such sense of right as she thought might still be left in the man, for whom in happier days she had had much respect, and asked: "Are you not ashamed, Piet? See how you are ruining us."

And what was his reply?—What? I do not know how to describe it, so feeble it was,—this: "And why do you ruin England so?"

The conversation continued as follows:—

P. de Wet. The country is lost.

Mrs. v. Niekerk. No, the country is not lost. You are masters for the moment wherever your camps stand. Elsewhere the burghers do what they like and go wherever they choose.

P. de Wet. Wait a bit, till the 200,000 men who are still to come from England are here, and the blockhouses which are to be built from town to town are completed.—Aunt, do tell the burghers what I now tell to you—All is lost. Do tell the burghers so.

Mrs. v. Niekerk. I will not do so. Besides, it would be in vain.

Involuntarily she thought of days gone by, when the man who now stood before her came to her house under conditions so entirely different. "Oh Piet," she said, "have we not prayed together, you and I, in our prayer-meetings, in this very house, that is now being turned into a heap of ruins? Alas! the image which I then saw in you, I see no more. You have forsaken God."

"No," he said; "all of you have done that. And as regards prayer-meetings, every Sunday we do that.... But the consciences of the burghers who are still fighting have become seared."

The house was destroyed; where the doors and windows were, yawning openings gaped. The beams were sawn down, a partition wall thrown down, and the roof fell in,—all this in the presence of Mrs. van Niekerk and Piet de Wet.

The poor woman then went to an outer storehouse, but the English would not allow her to remain there, and she took refuge in a miserable hut used for storing dry cow-dung for fuel.

But on the following day she had to move out of there too, as the enemy said they needed the place to fire from. And so she and her daughter were now stranded on her own premises without the least protection from wind or weather.

But this did not last long. The English ordered her and her daughter to get into a waggon, saying that they would take her to Kroonstad. This, however, they did not do; but informed her on the road, that they would leave her with a woman, and in the afternoon made her alight at the house of Field-Cornet Thys de Beer.

This building was in flames, and Mrs. de Beer was outside with her children, one of whom was a sick baby. The women and children spent that night in a small lean-to, which luckily had not been burnt down.

When Mrs. van Niekerk's son, Jurie, rode to their house on the same day, to see how his mother was doing, some English were concealed in the hut where the fuel was kept. They allowed him to approach, and one of the soldiers called out, "Hands up!" "Hands up, you!" said Jurie van Niekerk, and fired his revolver at them. But there were too many ready for him, and he immediately fell, mortally wounded, by three bullets.

The day after, his father, Gert van Niekerk, returned to his house. He was quite alone, and viewed the ruin of his home. But who shall describe his thoughts when he—standing there all alone—found the still unburied corpse of his son! The English returned, after having killed a great many sheep and taken much cattle. Still, great numbers of cattle were saved by the burghers at night.

Dingaan's Day with its memories of happy rejoicings once more arrived. I had ridden to be with the commando on that day, but wherever I came I always found that it had moved away before me, so that I could celebrate the day with but a small number of people.

On the 17th of December the President was on the left bank of Tijger Kloof, and it was there that the news of Commandant Hasebroek's death reached him. A few days later we learnt that on the 16th of December he unexpectedly encountered a number of English, and that, while galloping away from them, he received a bullet through his head. So he too had given his life for his country's freedom!

Posterity will keep the memory of the gallant Commandant Green. He was a man of noble character. Opposed to all hypocrisy, he was frank and open-hearted, and never hesitated to express his opinions fearlessly to anyone, whoever he might be. He was the idol of his men, and looked after their wants as if they were his children. He was ever the first to enter a position—the last to leave it. He was a tower of strength to our cause; when nearly everyone was discouraged at Nauwpoort, his courage never wavered. If it had not been for him and a mere handful of others like him, who knew not what it was to despair, our whole fighting force would have surrendered to the enemy like cowards. Brave, resolute Commandant, I reverently lay a wreath upon your grave!

Before I bring this chapter to a close, I must add that when President Steyn was retiring from Lindley he had received a letter from Lord Kitchener (in consequence of a letter from Vice-President Schalk Burger to Lord Salisbury, in which he complained about the removal and ill-treatment of our women and the bad treatment they received in the camps). Lord Kitchener wrote on the 1st December 1901 to the two Presidents, and said, amongst other things, that as the Presidents complained of the treatment of women and children, and as they must therefore be able to look after them, he had the honour to inform them that all women and children at present in his camps who were willing to leave, would be sent to the Presidents. Lord Kitchener said he would be pleased to hear where the Presidents desired the women and children to be handed to them.

President Steyn answered that he could not receive them, especially as Lord Kitchener had not only had all the houses destroyed, but also the bedding of the women and children.

CHAPTER XXV
TWO IMPORTANT ENGAGEMENTS

We passed to the south-east of Reitz and came to the farm Inloop, belonging to Mr. Gert van Rensburg. On our way thither I left the commando to go to the office of Landdrost Serfontein, in order to visit the unfortunate de Lange there, who was sentenced to death by a court-martial for high treason. I found him in very sad circumstances; but he was sustained by religion. He passed all his time in prayer and in reading the Bible.

Unfortunately his sentence was not carried out on the appointed day. He was taken to Reitz, his grave was ready, everything was prepared for the enactment of the sad tragedy; but the persons who had to carry out the sentence did not appear. Two days later, on the 21st of December, he was shot while kneeling before his grave in prayer.

General Wessel Wessels had been charged with the sending of a party of men to execute the sentence, but on that day when this had to be done all his attention was occupied by the English near Tafel Kop. The English were busy building blockhouses from the Drakensberg to Vrede, and General Wessels was waiting for an opportunity to attack them. On the following day the opportunity came. There were three forces of British, when General Wessels, supported by the Commandants Ross and Botha, gave orders that one of these forces should be attacked. He had about a hundred and thirty or forty men, while the force attacked were in far greater numbers, and were provided besides with two Armstrong guns, two Maxim-Nordenfeldts, and one Maxim.

Our burghers galloped over a bare plain for nearly three and a half miles, up to the enemy, who were on a kopje. The English let them come up to six hundred yards, and then opened fire on them with shrapnel. Their Maxims also and their rifles came into play. But the burghers were not to be checked. Soon they were so close that they silenced the guns by shooting down the gunners. They then charged up close to the enemy, and there were in some cases hand-to-hand encounters, some of the combatants striking one another with their rifle-butts.

The English were stubborn and fought very bravely; but in a short time everything was in the hands of our burghers. Some of the English took to flight, and very many were killed and wounded.

All the field-pieces were now in possession of General Wessels; but before they could be got away, one of the other two columns turned up from the direction of Paardenberg. This force was repulsed thrice, and our burghers would have got off with the guns had not the third force appeared from the direction of Wilge River.

The only thing to be done now was to gallop out, and abandon the captured cannon. This was only done with the greatest difficulty. The one column was a thousand yards to the right, and the other a hundred to the left; some of the troops were already immediately in front of our men. But fortunately they got through without casualty. Unhappily, however, five men had been killed and four wounded in the storming of the kopje. Immediately after Assistant Commandant de Kock came in contact on the farm Beginsel with the column, which had come up as a reinforcement from Wilge River. He undoubtedly caused them some considerable loss, for five ambulance waggons were later on busy with the casualties there. Commandant de Kock had, however, also to retire before this column, after he had engaged it for an hour and a half, because a reinforcement made its appearance, and directed the fire of their cannon at him. He had no casualties. We found out afterwards that the force which General Wessels attacked was that under Major Damant, while the one that attacked Commandant de Kock was commanded by Colonel Rimington.

Christmas Day had come again. I was not so low-spirited as on the last celebration of this memorable day. This must be ascribed to the fact that we spent the day pleasantly at Liebenberg's Vlei at the house of Mr. Juri Kemp. I could never have believed that, after a long struggle of two years and two months, we should be able to see such abundance on a table as that which Mrs. Kemp and her daughters provided there. It could not have been surpassed in times of peace. Notwithstanding the want of sugar, the sweet was not absent. The bees had supplied that. It did us good, in the midst of our troubles, to enjoy some pleasant hours, and we did not forget the religious character of the day. In the morning we held service at "Fanny's home," and in the afternoon at Mr. Kemp's house.

In the midst of all this joy I did not know that my son was dead eleven days. It was the same thing over again that evening when we, at some distance from this pleasant scene, were ready again to retire to rest on the grass. Before we did so a rumour came that General de Wet had captured a camp of the enemy early that morning. His report of this event reached the President the following morning. From this report, and from what I heard from the mouths of many who were in the fight, I give the following account of the attack:—

The English were building blockhouses from Harrismith to Bethlehem, and their advance force, 580 strong, under command temporarily of Major Williams, was camped at Groenkop on the farm Tweefontein in the district of Bethlehem. General de Wet had, since he had collected the large commando, sought for an opportunity to come in contact with the enemy. After what had occurred at Lindley, and a fight later near Langberg, which however had not been a success for us, he had as yet done nothing. When, however, Christmas was approaching, he thought that it would be the right time for him to act, and the force at Groenkop drew his attention. He reconnoitred himself, and resolved to make an attack on the night between the 24th and 25th December. He gave the necessary orders late in the night of the 24th, and General Prinsloo and the Commandants marched out with him to the hill.

It was a bright moonlit night, and there was some danger that the advancing force might be seen from above long before the hill could be reached. But fortunately there were clouds floating in the air, which everywhere threw shadows upon the plain, over which the commando had to pass, and it reassured the burghers when they thought that the several divisions might look from the hills like patches of shadow below. There were dongas near the foot of the hill. Our men passed safely through these, and a little farther on they dismounted and began the ascent.

It was then two o'clock in the morning. The Heilbron and Kroonstad burghers, under the Commandants van Coller and Celliers, ascended on the left towards the north, whilst the men of Bethlehem, under General Prinsloo and Commandant Olivier, formed the right wing. In the centre were the men of Vrede and Harrismith, under Commandants Hermanus Botha and Jan Jacobsz, together with Commandant Mears and his men. The burghers were in the best of spirits. They climbed the hill, the one striving to pass the other. "It was splendid to see how they charged," one man said to me. "They went up like a swarm of locusts." There were three encampments of sandstone over which our men had to pass before they could get to the top. Over the first they had clambered, when there came the usual "Halt! who goes there?" Then the sound of a whistle was heard, and immediately thereupon the enemy began to fire. Our burghers advanced with all the more determination over the other two ledges of sandstone, shouting, "Merry Christmas," etc., and rushed upon the entrenchments. The English fired twice with grapeshot and several times with the Maxim-Nordenfeldt, but those who were serving the guns were killed, wounded, or forced to surrender, as was the case with one who was just putting a belt into the Maxim-Nordenfeldt. The forts were soon taken, excepting one on the right hand, and it was from it that most of our burghers who fell were shot; as soon, however, as General Prinsloo noticed the heavy fire from that fort, he stormed and soon silenced it.

Our burghers now fired on the tents, and many English were killed and wounded in them. Many also fled half dressed from the tents, forming, as they ran, movable targets for our men.

"Within half an hour," so General de Wet stated in his report, "all the forts were taken, and the cannon and the whole of the camp were in our hands. The enemy fled, fighting all the while, to at least two or three hundred yards outside their camp, and the fight continued for another hour and a half.... I must say that I have never seen better fighting against an entrenched place. Our officers and burghers literally marched right through the camp. The booty consisted of a 15-pounder Armstrong, a Maxim-Nordenfeldt, a Maxim, and many Lee-Metford rifles. Much ammunition, twenty-seven waggons, laden with all kinds of provision; overcoats, blankets, and about 500 horses and mules were captured." Poor Tommy!—Yes, let me speak tenderly of him, however I might otherwise express myself when speaking in the abstract of the English people, or in the concrete of Chamberlain, Milner, and many officers of the British army,—poor Tommy had received his plum-pudding, tobacco, and new uniform (Christmas presents), and on the evening before he had made a parcel of them and laid it at his pillow with the object of putting it on and enjoying it in the morning. For many a Tommy the morning light did not dawn, and for not one of them came the enjoyment of his Christmas fare.

Our loss was considerable. "We have," so General de Wet reported, "to mourn the loss of fourteen men—heroes!—dead; amongst whom are the gallant Commandant Olivier of Bethlehem, Field-Cornet M. Lourens of the ward, Lower Bethlehem, and Assistant Field-Cornet Jan Dalebout of Harrismith." Besides Field-Cornet Dalebout I personally had to lament the death of another Harrismith man, Jacob Kok.

The number of our wounded was 32. The loss of the enemy was great: 24 were taken prisoners, and, excepting the few who succeeded in escaping, the rest were either wounded or killed. Major Williams was also amongst the killed.

General Brand and Commandant Coetzee, who had just come from the west on a visit to General de Wet, took part in the fight, and their services were highly valued by the General.

At eight o'clock an English reinforcement came from Elands River bridge; but by that time our people had already gone off with the booty. The prisoners-of-war were partially "shaken out" and sent over the Basuto border.

Prisoners-of-war released!—What a strange war this war of ours was. We had no ammunition but that which we got from the enemy; hardly any clothes but those provided us by our adversaries. And when we took soldiers prisoners, then—they were set free!

CHAPTER XXVI
OUR CASE GROWS MORE AND MORE DESPERATE

Blockhouses were also erected in the northern and south-eastern portions of the Orange Free State. One line from Kroonstad to Lindley was finished towards the middle of December; another from Botha's Pass to Vrede and Frankfort at the end of the year; and a third from Harrismith to Bethlehem shut off, with the portion that had already been built from Fouriesburg to Bethlehem, the grain districts behind Nauwpoort, about the middle of January 1902. People had all kinds of ideas about these blockhouses. Some thought that they did not signify much, and might be compared to the flags which are sometimes planted in front of a flock of sheep. At first the sheep remain within the line, but soon they find that the flags form no insuperable barrier, and then they graze up to, and then to the other side of the flags. Others again could not conceal their fears. The English, they thought, were making the circle narrower, and we should eventually have to flee from place to place until we were overtaken and overwhelmed by superior forces. We soon found that there was truth in both views. The circle was drawn closer and closer. If the English columns were marching about, we had to keep our horses tied at nights to be ready every moment to retire to the right or to the left, so as not to be driven against the blockhouses, or we had to retreat before the enemy until near some line of blockhouses, and then suddenly face about and either pass between our pursuers or go round them. On the other hand, the danger of the blockhouses was not so great as had been feared. Burghers could always pass them on horseback, and sometimes they even did so with carts and herds of cattle.

1902.

The New Year had again come; and with the year new trouble and ever-increasing distress. It was not easy for us, in spite of all that had thus constantly gone against us, to remain hopeful. Now and then we read something in the newspapers, picked up on the spots where the English had encamped, that encouraged us somewhat. What we read of Anglophobia in Germany would cheer us up a little and revive the expectation in us that the war would soon be over. But when we would read in the same papers that the English Government was resolved to continue the war at all costs, and when we were constantly eye-witnesses of the uncivilised manner in which the troops carried on the war, then, as far at least as I was concerned, there appeared to be no prospect of a speedy termination—no sign in our clouded sky that the storm was breaking. "Watchman," so I seemed to cry, "what of the night? what of the night?" and it was as if I always received the answer: "The morning has come, and yet it is night."

What especially did not tend to encourage was the increasing violence with which the English continued their destructive work. This took place in the districts to the east of Lindley, chiefly in the month from 10th January to 10th February. Especially was this the case where the column of Colonel Rimington passed. Colonel Rimington now passed through portions of the districts of Bethlehem and Harrismith, in the neighbourhood of Reitz. When he came to a farmhouse, the first questions of his officers and soldiers to the housewife were, "Where is your husband? Where is de Wet? Where is Steyn? Where are the Boers?" The woman could honestly reply that she did not know, whereupon they threatened to burn down her house, if she gave no information; and while the conversation was still going on she was summarily ordered to carry out her bedding; the soldiers would then with loaded guns and fixed bayonets storm into the house to seek for Boers, under the beds and in clothes presses. They then smashed the looking-glasses, so that the Boers should make no heliographs of them. Further, they took everything they wanted to: pillow-cases to serve as bags for fruit, etc., sheets, knives and forks, even when these had already been carried out along with the bedding. Pots and pans the housewife might in no case retain, even all the dishes and plates were smashed. Worse still, the woman was robbed of all her food; what the soldiers could not eat, such as flour, was thrown out upon the ground, and trodden under foot in the mud and dirt. Bread was never spared; out of the bin, from the table, or hot from the oven, it was taken, and not a crumb left behind. If there were any meat in pot and pan on the fire, then it was carried off, pot and pan and all. And thus the soldiers took the food out of the children's mouths. The mother remained behind with nothing. If she asked what she was to give her two, three, or six children to eat, the rough retort was, "Ask de Wet that?" "Never," said one woman to me, "was it so hard for me, as when my children cried to me for bread, and I had nothing to give them."

And then the soldiers would ride away to do the same at the next house. The woman left behind at the ruins of her house, took some of the zinc plates, laid them sloping against the wall of her destroyed house, and remained there until her husband came and brought her some food, and made a dwelling for her again, as well as he was able. Besides, all this I have heard from women that fearfully insulting language was used towards them by the rude soldiers. This certainly was not indulged in by all, for, as the woman readily admitted, there were some camps which passed through that were blameless. The armed Kaffirs revelled in being able to address the women familiarly with "thou" and "thee." "Where is your (jou) husband?—If he were here now I would shoot him dead." And they marched through the house as freely as the soldiers did.

It often happened that the soldiers broke into a house late at night, and forced their way even into the bedrooms, where the women lay in bed, under pretext of hunting for hidden Boers.

On the 10th of January the column of Colonel Rimington came to our hospital at Bezuidenhout's Drift. Notwithstanding that Dr. Poutsma had been allowed by Lord Kitchener to come and practise amongst us, and that the Red Cross flag was displayed that morning, as usual, over two of the buildings, and over the ambulance waggon, some soldiers stormed the hospital. This is what Dr. Poutsma, inter alia, says in an affidavit: "In and around the building shots were fired, and about fifteen yards from me, at the back door, a horseman dismounted, and kneeling down fired at me. 'Hands up!' he cried, and notwithstanding that I was, of course, unarmed, and moreover had put up my hands, he continued firing, whereupon I fled into the house. When I got to the kitchen some shots were sent after me, but wonderful to relate, without the intended result, as was the case also with six revolver shots which a captain fired partly at me, partly into the kitchen, and partly into the large sick ward. The captain in question, whose name is unknown to me, was so disappointed at all his shots having missed me, that he sprang towards me with the empty revolver, pushed it under my nose, and shouted, 'I'm damned sorry that I didn't shoot you.'

"Meanwhile the shooting inside the house continued at the three nursing-sisters, the Assistant A. van Toorenenbergen, and at me, and, most horrible of all, at the helpless wounded burghers who lay on their beds. I saw one of the soldiers outside kneeling down, and resting his gun on the window-sill he fired two shots at the wounded burgher Wessels, who, however was not hit, but was covered with dust from the wall beside him, where it was struck by the bullet."

The doctor now went to the veranda, and was there arrested by order of a major. But when the Assistant Mr. van Toorenenbergen shouted, "Doctor, Sister Rautenbach is wounded," he wrenched himself loose, and went into the large sick ward.

"I found the young lady," so Dr. Poutsma declares further, "bathed in her blood. Four bullets had frightfully mutilated her."

The shooting ceased, and the doctor bandaged Miss Rautenbach. Then some officers entered, and then came the sickening: "I am awfully sorry." When Dr. Poutsma afterwards spoke to Colonel Rimington about this occurrence, he expressed his regret that Miss Rautenbach had been wounded, but added that he would not have been sorry in the least had Dr. Poutsma been shot, as one of his own doctors had shortly before been killed by the Boers at Tafel Kop.[12] Further, he said that the Red Cross flag had not been noticed, and that he had never heard anything about a hospital there. He also wished Dr. Poutsma to admit that all that had happened was "an accident," which, as may be supposed, was refused. Not even sacred edifices were spared. At Reitz the troops broke up the floor of the Dutch Reformed Church to make fires with. The churches at Frankfort, Ventersburg, and Lindley were burnt down.

So things went on. About our alleged misdeeds we saw reports in almost every newspaper that we picked up; but we had no opportunity to make known to the world what the English were doing to us.

The English wanted to make an end to the war. They tried all means to attain this object speedily; also proclamations! but proclamations, as they had discovered, had had but little effect on the Boers. Especially had this been the case with regard to the one which had offered the Boers a chance of laying down their arms up to the 15th of September. What other plan could they now devise to end the struggle which, notwithstanding all this devastation, still continued, and appeared likely to continue indefinitely? Surely not another proclamation? No, but a letter! Lord Kitchener wrote a letter, an extract from which was, in the beginning of January 1902, left lying about for the information of the Boers on the farm where the English camps had halted. Lord Kitchener advised the Boers, in this letter, to take the matter into their own hands, because, as he asserted, President Steyn and General de Wet were resolved to ruin them utterly. The Boers should therefore act for themselves and lay down their arms, and he promised them that if they—not one by one, but in small numbers,—a corporal with ten men, a Field-Cornet with twenty-five, and a Commandant with fifty men—surrendered, they would then not be banished. They would, moreover, not lose their remaining cattle, and would, moreover, after the war, receive aid from the British Government to help them up again.[13] How shameful it was that, ever since Nauwpoort, the British Government had been doing its utmost to induce the burghers to commit treason. But all is fair in love and war is their own motto.

This "paper bomb," however, did very little execution. As little notice was taken of it as of the recent proclamation. Our people stood firm.

That our people as a people remained steadfast became more and more evident to me. However much our numbers in South Africa may have become diminished through the deportation of great numbers, and through the still greater numbers who had lost courage and had surrendered, our people as a people still always continued to exist. This the English were anxious to deny. They were fond of asserting that it was only a small fraction of the people that still resisted. This was not the case. It is true that it was only a minority that were still able to continue the struggle; but the heart of the nation, as a whole, was still always faithful. The majority of our prisoners-of-war had remained loyal to the cause. The majority even of those who in their dejection laid down their arms had no desire to remain under British rule. On an earlier page I have indicated what the feeling was on the island of Ceylon, and here I wish to add something which proved to me that in the Bermudas the feeling against England was still stronger, if possible, than in Ceylon.

Shortly after I had got possession of the extract of Lord Kitchener's letter just referred to I read the following description of the prisoners at Bermuda: "Many of them (the prisoners) are irreconcilable, and show their bitterness and hostility in every way. For instance, they have refused to accept for their dead the military honours which are usually accorded the British soldier. The Boer chaplain, the Rev. J. R. Albertyn of Wellington in the Cape Colony, requested, on behalf of the men, that the coffin of a deceased burgher should not be covered with the Union Jack, and that the three volleys usually fired over the soldier's grave should be discontinued."[14]

When I read this my heart leaped for joy. Our people were still one and undivided, I thought. If there were hundreds of our flesh and blood siding with the British, then there were thousands who did not. Even those on whom the depressing influence of imprisonment must have had a baneful effect remained irreconcilable, and showed it in every way.

What also struck me, when reading the newspapers, was how England damaged her own cause; because, in her excessively overbearing attitude, she did not understand the art of being conciliatory. Four colonists, rebels—so one newspaper related—were brought to the market-place at Cradock. Shortly after their arrival there the commanding officer rode up, ushered in with the music of Rule Britannia. Thereupon the accusations and the sentences against these four men were read. It appeared that all of them had been sentenced to death, but that the sentences of two of them had been commuted to imprisonment for life. Then a royal salute was fired, and the English National Anthem played by the band. What an exhibition, I thought, of England's pride! One would have thought that it was indeed Rule Britannia throughout South Africa. But so far it had not yet got, and the action of England there—the exhibition of the sentenced men in the market-place, the playing of the National Anthem, the firing of a royal salute—all that could have no other effect than to cause race hatred to strike roots still deeper, not only in the Republics, but throughout the whole of South Africa, and to drive every irreconcilable man anew to set his face like a flint against all that is English.

Ten days after Rimington's troops had committed those atrocities in the hospitals, they and several other columns came to the neighbourhood of Reitz, and were even more than usually active. They captured large numbers of cattle, and continued devastating the farms.

Their object was, however, chiefly to capture President Steyn and General de Wet, and also to regain possession of the guns taken by us at Groen Kop, which, since the 25th of December, had been conveyed about from one place to another between Liebenberg's Vlei and Wilge River. Unfortunately they succeeded in this. The guns were captured at Roode Kraal, Liebenberg's Vlei, on the 4th of February. At the same time the English drove General de Wet and a considerable number of burghers through the line of blockhouses between Kroonstad and Lindley. The General passed through without firing a shot, but was not so fortunate when, shortly after, he returned. He then lost several burghers, dead and wounded.

After that we had rest in the neighbourhood of Reitz until the 21st of February; but of this I will give an account in a following chapter.

Saturday, the 8th of February 1902, was a sad day for me. Marthinus Snyman, who had been to Witzieshoek, heard there that my son had died at Ladysmith. On the following Monday I received a letter from my friend the Rev. J. J. Ross, who informed me that he had, about the 20th of January, received a letter from the Rev. Dieterlin containing among other things the following words: "I saw in the papers that young Charles Kestell, aged 17, died in Ladysmith; is he not the son of our friend of Harrismith?" A sword passed through my heart.—But this is not the place in which I must record personal experiences of this kind.

CHAPTER XXVII
THE HOLOCAUST OF WOMEN

During the short period of rest in the neighbourhood of Reitz, President Steyn and Judge Hertzog were engaged, together with the other members of the Executive Council, Messrs. Brebner and Olivier, in writing letters to the sovereigns of Europe and to the President of the United States of America. These letters were intended to explain our position, and to ask whether the Powers would not exert their influence in the interests of the Boers, especially regarding matters concerning the rules of civilised warfare and the fundamental principles of international law, which were both being shamefully outraged by the English in this war.

It was intended that a messenger should be sent to Europe through German West Africa with the letters, and that he should himself, when abroad, further explain matters.

At the same time Judge Hertzog busied himself in collecting affidavits from women and others, who had suffered under the barbarity of the British soldier, and the Kaffirs in their service. I was allowed to read these declarations, and must admit that I have never perused anything more heartrending. Let me here note a few facts.

One woman declared that an English Colonel had pulled down her house over her head at Haco, in Ladybrand district, on 21st January 1902. On the 27th of the same month a patrol of the same officer came and took her prisoner. They made her and her children walk in front of the patrol for a distance of three miles, and that when she was so far advanced in pregnancy that she gave birth to a daughter ten days later.

The wife of Commandant J. J. Koen, of the Ladybrand Commando, was taken from her house at Blanco, in the district of Ladybrand, against her will, by a patrol of Major General Knox, on 27th January 1902. The order was first given that she should go to the camp on foot with her children, of whom one was a baby of a month old. Fortunately, however, there was a cart which the English had looted that morning, and she was allowed to go in that. The night was cold and stormy, but, notwithstanding that, she had to pass it, with her children and two other women who had likewise been captured, under some trees in the open air, with very little bedding. On the following day she was brought up and cross-examined like a criminal, and this was repeated shortly after before a Colonel. This officer told her that her husband had captured eighteen of his Kaffirs the day before, and said that if her husband had those Kaffirs shot, he, the Colonel, would give the 1000 Kaffirs under his command liberty to do with her as they chose. The number of women and children had in the meanwhile increased to eighteen, and all were in the open air, without protection against wind and weather. In vain Mrs. Koen begged for a tent.

A Colonial, however, took pity on her, and spread a buck sail over the waggon under which the women and children had sought shelter from the rain. This kindly deed of the Colonial displeased the Colonel, and he severely took him to task about it. From Monday morning to Wednesday evening the women got nothing to eat, and again it was a Colonial who intervened. This man gave them some raw meat, biscuits, and a little coffee and sugar. But they had themselves to provide for fuel, and that on a bare hill where there was none to be found.

From Mequatling's Nek the women and children were conveyed to the farm of the late General Ferreira, on a trolley waggon loaded with seed-oats. It rained all the while, and they were drenched to the skin. They passed the next night under a buck sail with scanty covering. After spending nine days like this, Mrs. Koen was given a broken-down cart and two lean horses to return with to her house. She found it looted.

The Colonel had made the threat not to Mrs. Koen only. When he uttered the disgraceful words to that lady, he had already written a letter to her husband from Mequatling's Nek, dated 21st January 1902, in which these words appear:—

"I request from you proof that these boys [Kaffirs captured by Commandant Koen, and afterwards sent by him to Basutoland] are safe. Should I find, on the contrary, that you have murdered them, or should you murder others, besides other penalties, which you will assuredly not escape, I warn you that it will be beyond my power to control my Kaffirs in their action towards your women. I hope, however, that your assurance, accompanied by proof, that my Kaffirs are safe, will enable me to assuage my Kaffirs, and to continue to you that protection which I have hitherto been able to grant them."

Now, I ask, suppose that Commandant Koen had shot the Colonel's Kaffirs, could such a deed justify a British officer to set loose savages upon defenceless women?

Another woman declared that on the 9th of September 1900, a soldier, a Hottentot, and two Kaffirs visited her farm, Jolly Kop, in the district of Bethlehem. The soldier remained some distance off, but the others came to her, threatened to shoot her, and forcibly removed her rings from her fingers. Many acts of unnecessary and reckless violence took place in relation to women in very weak condition. If the columns trekking about wanted to burn a house or take a woman away from her house, they seldom took into consideration whether a woman was ill or in a weak condition. There were officers and men who had neither heart nor eye for the weakness which is generally a guarantee and protection against violence. Here is an instance.

A woman was taken from the farm Omdraai, district Bethlehem, towards the end of March 1901, when she had been delivered of a child but one day.

Another, on the farm Tijger, district Heilbron, had a child of one day old. Notwithstanding this, on 20th January 1902 Colonel Rimington had her house burned over her head, and she was forced, ill and weak as she was, to totter out of the house so as not to be consumed by the flames.

The same thing had happened on the 1st of November 1901 to a woman at Vogelstruisfontein, district Heilbron. Her child was but two days old, and she too had to save herself from the burning house. Too often in this war it happened that the courtesy to women which chivalry dictates was lacking on the part of the British. Not only were our women treated with disrespect and contempt, but this contempt was as often accompanied by a large measure of cruelty.

So, for example, it very often happened that the English fired on the houses with cannon and rifles, under the pretext that the Boers had concealed themselves in them. In many cases it turned out afterwards that these houses were occupied by women and children only, and that some of these had been wounded by the firing which had taken place.

And then, when the women were taken away, the enemy placed them on open waggons, where they had no protection from sun, wind, or rain. There was one woman who was conveyed from her house on a gun-carriage. This took place in the middle of May 1901, on the farm Moolman's Spruit, district Ficksburg.

From other women the soldiers took all their clothing, and searched them for money they had hidden on their persons. And when the women were driven out before the soldiers, or when they were allowed to return to their homes from a camp, they not only carried their babes, but also bundles of clothing—and these were often women who had never before carried any burden. Our Africander women carrying bundles like tramps! On what ViÆ DolorosÆ did they have to go!

Racial hatred? Who is to blame for it if it exists?

Who can blame the Africander if he cannot forget what was done to his mother, to his wife, to his sister?

In the middle of July 1901 a burgher on the top of Venter's Kroon saw an English patrol set fire to a waggon along the Vaal River. When the English had ridden off he went to the burning waggon and there found the sister of Mr. H. Miny of Vredefort burned to death. She was sixty years old, and had never in all her life been able to walk. The burgher found her about twenty yards from the waggon, with her hands before her eyes, and it would appear that she had crawled so far after the waggon had been set on fire. It may be that the English had not seen her. Let us hope that this was the case.

Much was said in the declarations about things I have spoken of in former chapters, in regard to the rough treatment the women were subjected to when the flying columns burnt their houses and destroyed their dwellings. Much was said, too, of the pillaging which took place on such occasions; of the breaking or looting of plates, dishes, pots and pans; the plundering of everything in chests or wardrobes, the carrying off of all movable food stuffs, and the manner in which such provisions as could not be taken away—flour, beans, peas, and the like—were strewn on the ground. They complained bitterly that the soldiers left them nothing to eat, and that thus, so to speak, the very bread was taken from the mouths of the children. How our women and children suffered!

And what shall I say of deeds more horrible than the worst that I have related here?—deeds which, out of respect to our wives and our mothers, I cannot name, but of which I, alas! just as in the cases I have mentioned, can give the date and the place? Would that I did not need even to allude to them! But I must! I must let the curtain rise but swiftly to exhibit other scenes—but as in passing—for all may not be seen, and what is seen must only be partly seen. Our women were assaulted and ill-treated, so that after the departure of the British flying columns they were sometimes confined to their beds for days, and in many cases bore the marks of blows and bruises for weeks.

Worse still! There were many attempts at violation, and there were cases in which violation actually took place, in a manner which it is impossible to describe here.

Me Miserum! that I must record this—that it is necessary to lead posterity to the altar upon which our women were offered!

CHAPTER XXVIII
A GREAT DRIVE

The President was obliged to leave the neighbourhood of Reitz about the 20th of February 1902, because the English were again beginning to enter the district. After having had a short time of rest, and having spent it in composing the letters mentioned in the preceding chapter, he met General de Wet at Slabbert's farm, Rondebosch. While he was still busy there with a mass of correspondence he also discussed various affairs of importance with the General, amongst which was the question of the route which the messenger who was to be sent to Europe should take. While they were thus engaged we heard that the English were approaching from the direction of Liebenberg's Vlei, and on the evening of 21st February both the President and General de Wet proceeded as far as the house of Mr. Taljaart.

Early on the following morning they were on the farm of Mr. Wessels, and intended finishing their correspondence there; and the secretaries of the President and of the General were hard at work when news was brought that the English from Liebenberg's Vlei had advanced to within a very short distance of us.

We hastily saddled our horses and trekked through Wilge River near the residence of Commandant Beukes, and halted late that afternoon not far from the farm of Mr. Christiaan de Wet—not the General. That evening General de Wet received a report from the Commandant of Vrede, Hermanus Botha, which stated that there were large forces of the English between Botha's Pass, on the Drakensberg, and Frankfort, and that these forces were moving towards Harrismith in the form of a cordon.

It was clear now that we were in a great kraal, as it was called, and that to escape from it we should have to make an attempt to pass round the wings of the cordon, or otherwise to break through somewhere where there was an opening. In the course of the evening Commandant Ross with his Frankfort burghers also joined us, and everything was now under the direction of General de Wet. At ten o'clock that night we commenced to trek, and off-saddled at three o'clock on the following morning, Sunday, on the farm of ex-assistant Field-Cornet Jan Cronje, near Cornelis River.

Soon tidings were brought that the English were advancing in great numbers, and we had to proceed immediately. At ten o'clock we were again in the saddle. But how greatly had our numbers increased during the night. Not only were the men of Commandant Ross with us, but also a great number of persons who were not liable to commando duty, on account of old age or bodily weakness. These had left their farms, and were fleeing before the enemy. There were also children—boys from eight years upward. Everywhere there were crowds of vehicles of every sort—buggies, carts, and spiders—besides which the veld was covered with enormous numbers of cattle.

When we passed through Cornelis River, close to the house of Paul Prinsloo, the number of cattle was so great that the veld seemed literally alive with them. They were driven along in separate herds, and it was a puzzle to me how the owners managed to keep them apart. But it was the numbers that astonished me, and not only me, who knew nothing of cattle, but the Boers themselves. General de Wet declared that he had never seen so many cattle together at one time. What a multitude! From the foremost to the hindmost there was a distance of about six miles, and it was covered with one vast mass of living creatures—men, horses, and cattle.

In order to remain out of sight, General de Wet made the great motley crowd trek up in the hollow on the left bank of Cornelis River, and in the afternoon we reached Brakfontein, where we off-saddled and outspanned. There Commandant Hermanus Botha joined the Chief-Commandant and reported that the English had advanced to the banks of Holspruit, and that they had halted in small camps, a thousand yards apart, from the Drakensberg up to Wilge River. It was also known to us that the force which had caused us to retreat through Wilge River had formed a line on the other side of the river. It was undoubtedly the largest drive which the English had up to that moment made. The question was, how to escape. We could not get round the flanks, for these were so far to the east and west that there might just as well have been no flanks at all. And there was no time for delay, for the line would grow shorter every day, and the enemy would thus be enabled to bring their camps closer to one another. Delay? General de Wet was not the man to delay, and he did not now. Now, as always, he perceived in a moment what was to be done. He must break through the cordon that very night. He decided that this should be done at Kalk-kraus, near the house of old Mr. Samuel Beukes.

The sun had just set, and the full moon began every now and then to shoot a ray of light through the rifts of a dark mass of clouds which lay on the eastern horizon, when the vast multitude once more commenced to move. What a commotion there was! Each owner toiled to keep his cattle together and shouted to his ox-herd. The herd again yelled and whistled to turn the cattle and to urge them onward; and above all this uproar could be heard the lowing of the cows and the bleating of the calves. The Kaffirs raced to and fro, and you could see, gliding through the throng, here a cart and there a buggy, while continually you noticed horsemen feverishly pushing through in order to get to the front. It seemed, as someone remarked to me, that a pandemonium had suddenly been called into being. In half an hour the horsemen were all in front; behind them came the carts, one after the other, and then the cattle. These, now that they were being driven steadily forward, ceased to render the night horrible by their bellowing.

General de Wet ordered that the following order should be observed: a number of men were told to advance as a right wing and another as a left, while a small vanguard rode on ahead. In the centre was the General with the President. Behind them came their staffs; then followed the great motley crowd—the people who were driving the spiders and carts and buggies—and in the rear the mighty host of cattle.

We proceeded, continually halting to wait until the great rearguard could come up. The moon was not visible, as the sky was clouded, but it was light enough to see well. Onward we went. Before us we could see the vanguard, and on each side, near us at one moment and farther off the next, the flanks moved along. Everything looked weird and uncanny. At last we reached the bank of Holspruit. It was just midnight. We trekked through the spruit and approached the ridges to the east of Mr. Beukes's house. We knew that if we passed over those ridges unnoticed we would be through the kraal without mishap. But the English were lying in wait for us there. Along the whole line they had built small forts between their camps, and they had done so here too.

The foremost men begin to climb. Suddenly we see two or three flashes above us on the ridge—a little to the right—and immediately we hear the report of rifles echoing through the valley. There on our left, too, we see sparks of fire. The whole commando suddenly comes to a standstill. The horses become restive. The burghers turn back. Great is the fury of the General when he sees this, and with forcible language he orders the men to charge. The bullets whiz past us everywhere, and several burghers are hit. My pony is slightly wounded under me. General de Wet and his officers succeed in making the burghers climb the hill to the left of the fort on our left hand, from which the English are firing on us, and we reach the top. We are hardly there when the ghastly dud-dud-dud-dud of a Maxim-Nordenfeldt is heard; the tiny shells fly shrieking over us, and burst amongst a number of burghers not far from where we are.

Hark! what is that?

The cry of a little boy at the sound of the Maxim-Nordenfeldt. Never in my life have I been touched deeper in my heart than by this child crying in the night. Why is he present at such a scene? Meanwhile, on another part of the ridge, Commandant Ross and the two brothers, Commandant and Assistant Commandant Botha, had engaged the enemy. They stormed and took several forts. They even gained possession of the Maxim-Nordenfeldt; but, as might be expected, they could not remove it. Many English were killed and wounded there. We had now burst through one line of forts, and there was another through which we had to pass. We saw before us a line of small flashes from the rifles, and knew that we had to face them. The officers had the greatest trouble to get the men through the unceasing fire. Every now and then a dash forward was made, but each time the men were baffled and returned. More than half an hour passed thus. At last a supreme effort was made, and we were through. About 600 burst through in this manner. But many remained behind. There were some who went back after they had actually gained the ridge, and others did not venture to go farther than the foot of the hill.

Of the great drove of cattle not one had even reached the foot of the hill. I make especial mention of this, because the English declared in their account of the affair that General de Wet drove great numbers of cattle against the forts and then burst through behind them. Only later in the night did some herds get through in another place with about 500 head; but the thousands of cattle, together with a considerable number of burghers on horseback and all the persons in the buggies, spiders, and carts, remained behind, and far the greater part fell into the hands of the English four days after. It is a pity that they had not had the courage to break through, for after the Commandants Ross and Botha had taken the forts the way was open. Not all, however, who drove in the carts remained behind, for the waggonette of the General and one cart in which a wounded man was conveying a comrade who was ill with fever accomplished the passage. Just as they were out of danger the sick man died on the cart!

We had a heavy loss to deplore—13 killed and about 20 wounded. Those who had broken through hurried on, and reached the farm Bavaria, at Bothaberg, just after sunrise.

Here we buried in one grave a burgher of the President's staff named Piet van der Merwe, and a boy of only thirteen years of age named Olivier. When I was walking towards the grave I encountered a little boy who had gone through the terrible night along with us. He wore a suit made of sheepskin, and there were traces of fatigue on his drawn face, while the light which should have sparkled from his eyes was dimmed. Was this, I asked myself, the child whose cry I had heard in the night, when the shells of the Maxim-Nordenfeldt flew over us?

"What is your name?" I asked him.

He told me his name.

"How old are you?"

"Oom, I am eight, and going on for nine."

Such things happened in this war of ours, and England's boys of eight and nine—those who were not left to their fate, with cold, blue, bare feet, in the snow and ice on the streets of her great cities—did their mothers snugly tuck them in their warm beds? But the mothers of our children knew to what danger their boys were exposed, of being torn from their arms and mercilessly carried off; and rather than see this happen, they sent them away from their warm beds, to hear at midnight sounds and see sights that the ears and eyes of strong men could hardly bear.

That day the English remained where they were, but on the following they proceeded and formed the great cordon on the bank of Cornelis River.

Commandant Hermanus Botha then found an opportunity to bury our dead on the battlefield.

There had been a drive at the same time on the west of Wilge River, from Scheurklip to Britsberg, and from there in a segment east of Kroonstad to Lindley. This operation was the largest drive the English had hitherto made. A few days after he had broken through, General de Wet found an opportunity of examining the forts of the enemy. He found that they had been such a protection to them, and so formidable to us, that he wondered that more of our men had not been killed.

While he was viewing the forts burghers rode past from time to time, and informed him that during the preceding night (25th February) 500 burghers had dashed through the cordon at Sterkfontein near the sources of Cornelis River. We also heard that General Wessels had escaped near Steil Drift without firing a shot, and somewhat later news came that General Hattingh of Kroonstad had forced a passage, with all his men and a considerable number of cattle, to the west of Lindley.

These tidings encouraged us, but what a blow it was when soon after we heard that Commandant Meyer, who had command of a portion of the Harrismith burghers, had surrendered on the 27th not far from Tandjesberg. We heard the particulars from an eye-witness, Patrick van Coller. He had escaped, and had seen the sad incident from a hill on which he had hidden himself. He said that he saw a man with a white flag ride from the commando to the English. Thereupon these rode to the burghers. The rifles were first demanded, then the saddles. The latter were burnt in seven heaps. Our men were then marched to Harrismith as prisoners-of-war.

We afterwards heard that there had been five or six burghers who would not surrender and who had raced away. They had succeeded in escaping, notwithstanding that they had been pursued by the enemy.

From time to time news reached us of remarkable escapes. I will only mention the following case.

Old Mr. Hendrik Barnard, who was between seventy and eighty years old, was one of the great number of fugitives. He had fled with a cart until he was forced to abandon it on the near approach of the English. Then he hid himself in the reeds on the banks of a spruit. There he lay for two days. Luckily he had with him a faithful Kaffir lad who cared for him as a child. If the old man looked out to see whether the English were near, the Kaffir boy would warn him, saying, "Look out, oÛ bÂas! the Khakis will see you." Mr. Barnard had a little food with him, but not enough. This was replenished after dark by the Kaffir boy, who fetched from a neighbouring farm what they needed. Thus two days passed, and then, with all manner of pain in all his limbs, occasioned through the cramped position he had been forced to take, the old man could leave his hiding-place.

England spared neither women nor children nor old men tottering on the brink of the grave!

CHAPTER XXIX
TO THE TRANSVAAL

Our horses needed rest after all the hard trekking. Luckily we were able to grant them this on the farm Rondebosch, which we reached about a week after we had effected the passage at Kalk-krans. There the horses not only got some rest but also forage. This rest, however, did not last long. After two days we heard that the English were again approaching, and, as we had expected, were returning from Harrismith. We had now to give way before the enemy once more. The question was, Whither? And as it was clear to the President that his presence in the districts of Bethlehem and Vrede was largely the cause of the continual reappearance of English columns in those parts, the question arose, whether it would not be better, in order to give these districts, which had latterly been terribly harassed, as well as himself some rest, to leave them and betake himself beyond the railway line to those portions of the Free State which were then enjoying comparative repose.

General de Wet, who was still with the President, approved of the idea, and the plan was carried out.

We saddled our horses with the intention of going to the district of Fauresmith, but it turned out that we landed in the Transvaal.

At sunset on the 5th of March we left Rondebosch. It was a dark night, and the darkness was the cause of some loss to me, for we had hardly commenced to trek when the pack in which my clothes and blankets were, tumbled off. I was riding in front, and did not know that my little Kaffir boy was struggling with the pack; but I soon heard that everything was lost—my Kaffir boy too; for in running after a led horse that had broken loose while he was busy with the pack, he got lost himself, and although we shouted and searched for him we could not find him.

The commando had to proceed, and I had to proceed with it, possessing nothing but what was in my wallets and the clothes I was wearing. I thought it remarkable that while everything had been saved in the dash through Kalk-krans, here, where there was no immediate danger, everything should be lost. But I did not feel unhappy. On the contrary, it was with a feeling of relief that I remembered I should not have the trouble of having to look after worldly possessions, nor the care of the little Kaffir, during the difficult journey that lay before us. He was safer at his kraal, which was not far from the spot where the mishap had occurred, and the "secret of Jesus," as Matthew Arnold calls it, became clearer to me than ever before: that to gain life one must lose it. From that evening up to the end of the war I rode on my pony with a few blankets that I got the next day fastened on a led horse. I was without cares.

The English had approached to within nine miles of us on the following day, and we saw that we should have to bestir ourselves. While hurrying on our way to the Frankfort-Heilbron line of blockhouses we halted for half an hour, while General de Wet, who was about to part from the President, discussed the route that should be taken. He said that it would be best to cross the railway line somewhere between Wolvehoek and Vaal River, "and then," he said to Commandant van Niekerk, "you must"—

"But why should you not go with us?" the President asked.

General de Wet replied that if he did this it would look as if he were fleeing from the enemy. Judge Hertzog then showed that the presence of the General was urgently required in the western district, and other members of the Executive Council remarked that if he left the north-eastern portions of the State for a while the people there would get some rest, and that, so far from taking it amiss if he went away, they would be glad if he should absent himself for some time. And now a strange thing happened. This inflexible man, who never lost his presence of mind and always knew immediately what course of action to pursue, said, "Well, then, I leave the matter in your hands. You must decide."

Of course everyone took the responsibility upon himself, and General de Wet remained with us. How secure we all felt!

In the afternoon we met with the burghers of Commandant van der Merwe, who had been driven from Parys and Vredefort over the railway line some months before, and who had remained in the Heilbron district since then. The Commandant and his men wanted to get back, and were overjoyed when General de Wet ordered them to accompany him. When it became dark we proceeded on our way in order to break through the Heilbron-Frankfort line of blockhouses to the east of the town of Heilbron.

All went well. In complete silence—no officer has need to enjoin silence when men are marching to blockhouses or the railway—we approached the line. We expected every moment to hear shots; but nothing happened. The foremost men had halted. A burgher cut the wires. Just as one of the wires was cut the reports of two shots fell on the silence of the night in quick succession. They were fired from rifles attached to the wire. We waited a moment. But all was still. No other shot rang out, and we passed through swiftly.

After riding a few hours farther over an apparently endless plain, well named Langverdriet (Long-sorrow), we off-saddled shortly before sunrise on a farm in a hollow, with the blockhouses seven miles behind us.

The morning of the 6th of March had now dawned. After breakfasting we proceeded until twelve o'clock, and then rested till the sunset. We then mounted our horses once more, and at eleven o'clock we were a few thousand yards from the railway at a point somewhere between Wolvehoek (station) and Vaal River. General de Wet did not wish to cross just then, as he was of opinion that the guards on the line would be too wakeful, and he ordered that we should halt there till one o'clock. We thereupon tied our horses to one another and lay down on the ground. I fell asleep immediately. Shortly before one o'clock I was awakened by a sound which I had not heard for months—that of a passing train. What memories mounted in my mind, and how the hot blood surged in my veins at the thought that our railway was in the hands of the enemy! The order was given to mount, and we rode on to about four hundred yards from the line.

Halt!

A party of Commandant van der Merwe's men went on foot to cut the wires. This was done. The whole commando now rushed to the line. It must have been the tramp of our horses that woke the sentries, for when we had already reached the line a shot rang out. We passed through a ditch and then up a very slight embankment; and I saw again, as I had already seen several times before, the two rails glide under me to the rear. A feeling of relief took possession of me. The half of the commando had crossed when shots from three rifles were heard from a railway cottage in the direction of Wolvehoek, and the foremost men halted till all should have crossed. But soon we heard the rattle of a Maxim, and everyone then hurried on.

We could still occasionally hear the Maxim; but at last it ceased, or else we were too far off to hear its vicious cackling. We off-saddled at sunrise, six miles from the line.

In the course of the day we reached the farm of Salamon Senekal, two and a half hours from the railway and one hour from the town of Parys, grateful to God for His protection.

There was another matter for which we had cause to be grateful: the delicious fruit of the farm. Salamon Senekal had ridden on ahead, and when the President and the General arrived there, he had spread, on a plate of corrugated iron, under the great blue gum-trees, a splendid collection of ripe figs, apples, pears, and great peaches. What a feast had been prepared for the President!

There were several other kinds of fruits in the garden besides these: quinces, prickly pears, pomegranates in such quantities that when we, about 150 men, left the farm, one could not have noticed that a commando had been there. And we had not spared the trees. Whether any had overeaten themselves I leave to the reader to determine.

At the town of Parys, where we arrived on the following day, we found three families, aged men and women and children. One old man had died shortly before. This would have placed the aged survivors in a difficult position if there had not been a young girl, Miss Greef, living in the family in which the death had taken place. While one of the two surviving old men made a coffin, the girl dug a grave in the garden and took upon herself the greater part of the labour of interring the body.

It is a pleasing duty to me, after having had to write so much to the discredit of the English, to be able to relate that the families here in Parys had no complaints to bring in against officers and men who had been quartered here for some time. On the contrary, they declared that the English had treated them with the greatest consideration, and had also provided for all their wants.

It was the intention of General de Wet to remain at Parys, and on the following Sunday, March the 9th, to attend a service in the church. But this was not to be, for the English had appeared behind us. We had therefore to leave Parys on Saturday afternoon. In the evening we reached the village of Vredefort, and I saw in the dusk the walls of the burnt parsonage. I thought of the pleasure I had enjoyed when, seventeen months before, I stayed there for a night. If anybody had said then that the war would last another seventeen months, who would have believed him?

We found the blockhouses from Kopjes Siding to Potchefstroom and those from Kroonstad to Potchefstroom broken up. We rode forward without adventure to a place nine miles from Valsch River, and arrived at the farm of Broekman's on Thursday, 13th March. We had trekked from the district of Heilbron to where we now were in eight days, and during all that time we had been in a completely devastated region. We had met no one on the farms. Every house that we had passed was burnt or destroyed. We had not seen a single horse, ox, or sheep. The veld was in splendid condition—the grass waved in the breeze, but we had seen no cattle to graze on it. We had ridden through a wilderness, excepting that the ruins on the farms showed that the country had once been inhabited. At Broekman's[15] General de Wet learned that there were blockhouses on the left bank of the Valsch River, and at the same time word was brought by the scouts that all the fords of the Vaal were occupied by the English. He thereupon decided to cross through Valsch River and the blockhouse line to the opposite side.

In the evening he crossed the river, while Commandant van der Merwe and Commandant van Niekerk of Kroonstad remained behind to operate in their own districts. We found the river almost too full to cross, but nothing particular happened; and at the blockhouse line all went well, notwithstanding a heavy fire which was opened on us. Only a few horses were left behind. On the following morning we heard that General de la Rey had come in contact with the enemy, and that he had captured a great many waggons and mules.

I must now state how it happened that we went to the Transvaal instead of to the western portions of the Free State as we had intended.

The question had often been considered of late whether we would go to the western portion of our State or through the Vaal River. This was decided at Rietyat by the consideration of various circumstances. President Steyn had been suffering since 20th February from an affection of the eyes which seemed to be getting more and more serious. Would it not be best to go through the Vaal River in order to consult Dr. von Rennenkamff, who had joined the commandos of General de la Rey? If this were done, the opportunity would be offered also of consulting General de la Rey before sending the messenger to Europe. This decided the matter, and we resolved at once to cross into the Transvaal. This, however, could not be done by means of the fords, for they were, as I have said before, guarded by the English. We had therefore to avail ourselves of a fearfully bad bridle-path, which led through the Vaal River a mile and a half above the British guard at Commando Drift.

On Monday, March the 17th, we reached Bosmansrust, and from there the President, General de Wet, and the other members of the Executive Council proceeded to Zendelingsfontein, where they were received with great marks of honour.

The burghers of General de la Rey were delighted to have the Free State leaders in their midst, and presented President Steyn with three addresses.

There I heard the particulars concerning General de la Rey's operations. There had been two battles. The first, at Yzerspruit, had taken place on 25th February, when 2 Armstrong cannon, 1 Maxim-Nordenfeldt, 153 loaded waggons with their teams, 23 Scotch carts, 4 carts, 5 water carts, 460 oxen, 200 horses, and 1500 mules had been taken. There had been 241 prisoners-of-war, of whom 10 were officers. About 200 English had been killed and wounded, and our loss 12 killed and 26 wounded. The second battle had been fought on the 7th of March. Lieutenant-General Lord Methuen had hastened to regain possession of the guns. His force, numbering 1500 men, had been attacked at Klip Drift, Harts River, and had fallen into the hands of General de la Rey. There had been captured 4 Armstrong guns, 75 waggons with their teams, 38 carts, and 518 horses. Besides this there had been 400 killed and wounded and 859 prisoners-of-war. Amongst these was Lord Methuen who was wounded in the leg. He and General de la Rey had been opposed to one another since Magersfontein, and had fought with varying fortune. Here de la Rey triumphed. Our loss had been 9 killed and 25 wounded. The prisoners were released after each of the battles.

General de la Rey, after showing Lord Methuen every attention, allowed him to be taken to Klerksdorp. This act of General de la Rey displeased the burghers. They considered that as the enemy treated our captured Generals in a different manner—the name of General Scheepers in the Cape Colony was mentioned in this connection—the least that General de la Rey should have done was to keep Lord Methuen prisoner.

General de la Rey thereupon laid the matter before the Council of War, and pointed out that, although it would have been his duty to keep an officer who had nothing the matter with him, humanity demanded that every possible help should be given to a wounded man. The other officers agreed, and Lord Methuen, who had been stopped on his way to Klerksdorp when the burghers had demurred, was set at liberty.

To my great joy I met the Rev. J. Strasheim here, and went with him to visit and address the commandos of General Kemp, Commandants de Beer and Potgieter, and General Liebenberg. I was with the commandos of General Liebenberg on Sunday night, 23rd March, when, at eleven o'clock, the loud tramp of horses was heard on the road coming from Klerksdorp.

We immediately saddled our horses and inspanned. It appeared on the following morning that the English had come from Klerksdorp in four divisions, and had been joined by other forces that had advanced from Commando Drift (Vaal River) at the one end and from Vaalbank on the other. When morning dawned, the English had accomplished the remarkable feat of forming an arc in one night from Makwassie to Vaalbank, a distance of seventy-two miles, and General Liebenberg saw that he was in a tremendous kraal, as we called it.

He was driven from Doornpoort to Leeuwfontein, and from there to Limoenfontein. He endeavoured continually to break through towards Vaalbank and in the direction of Schoonspruit, but fresh English troops continually confronted his weary burghers. Near Limoenfontein the English fired on us with shrapnel, and we hurried on to Buysfontein. Two guns and one Maxim-Nordenfeldt had to be abandoned. At Buysfontein General Liebenberg was forced to abandon his laager also, and the commandos escaped by racing helter-skelter over the great stones down the valley of Buysfontein, while the enemy harassed them with cannon and rifle fire. In the evening, after having had our horses under saddle for twenty hours, we rested until half-past eleven. We were apprehensive of the enemy from the Makwassie end of the line; but the forces there had advanced on both sides of us, and General Liebenberg succeeded in passing in the night between two camps without knowing it at the time, and unnoticed also by the English.

On the following day we reached Zendelingsfontein. Thus I had been in a kraal (drive) once more.

On Wednesday, 26th March, we came to Doornkuil, and learnt that other commandos had had very narrow escapes, and that unfortunately General de la Rey's staff had been captured. I was glad, however, to learn that President Steyn and his staff were safe.