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, _ou baas_! 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!