AND THE WAR STORM BREAKS.
It was during a desultory discussion of an ordinary sessions of the
Second Volksraad, in which I represented Johannesburg, that one day in
September, 1899--to be precise, the afternoon of the 28th--the
messenger of the House came to me with a note, and whispered, "A
message from General Joubert, Sir; it is urgent, and the General says
it requires your immediate attention."
I broke the seal of the envelope with some trepidation. I guessed its
contents, and a few of my colleagues in the Chamber hung over me
almost speechless with excitement, whispering curiously, "Jong, is dit
fout?"--"Is this correct. Is it war?"
Everybody knew, of course, that we were in for a supreme crisis, that
the relations between Great Britain and our Republic were strained to
the bursting point, that bitter diplomatic notes had been exchanged
between the governments of the two countries for months past, and that
a collision, an armed collision, was sooner or later inevitable.
Being "Fighting-Commandant" of the Witwatersrand goldfields, and,
therefore, an officer of the Transvaal army, my movements on that day
excited great interest among my colleagues in the Chamber. After
reading General Joubert's note I said, as calmly as possible: "Yes,
the die is cast; I am leaving for the Natal frontier. Good-bye. I must
now quit the house. Who knows, perhaps for ever!"
General Joubert's mandate was couched as follows:--
"You are hereby ordered to proceed with the Johannesburg
commando to Volksrust to-morrow, Friday evening, at 8
o'clock. Your field cornets have already received
instructions to commandeer the required number of burghers
and the necessary horses, waggons, and equipment.
Instructions have also been given for the necessary railway
conveyances to be held ready. Further instructions will
reach you."
Previous to my departure next morning I made a hurried call at
Commandant-General Joubert's offices. The ante-chamber leading to the
Generalissimo's "sanctum-sanctorum" was crowded with brilliantly-uniformed
officers of our State Artillery, and it was only by dint of using my
elbows very vigorously that I gained admission to my chief-in-command.
The old General seemed to feel keenly the gravity of the situation. He
looked careworn and troubled: "Good-morning, Commandant," he said;
"aren't you away yet?"
I explained that I was on my way to the railway station, but I thought
before I left I'd like to see him about one or two things.
"Well, go on, what is it?" General Joubert enquired, petulantly.
"I want to know, General Joubert," I said, "whether England has
declared war against us, or whether we are taking the lead. And
another thing, what sort of general have I to report myself to at
Volksrust?"
The old warrior, without looking up or immediately answering me, drew
various cryptic and hieroglyphic pothooks and figures on the paper
before him. Then he suddenly lifted his eyes and pierced me with a
look, at which I quailed and trembled.
He said very slowly: "Look here; there is as yet no declaration of
war, and hostilities have not yet commenced. You and my other officers
should understand that very clearly, because possibly the differences
between ourselves and Great Britain may still be settled. We are only
going to occupy our frontiers because England's attitude is extremely
provocative, and if England see that we are fully prepared and that we
do not fear her threats, she will perhaps be wise in time and
reconsider the situation. We also want to place ourselves in a
position to prevent and quell a repetition of the Jameson Raid with
more force than we exerted in 1896."
An hour afterwards I was on board a train travelling to Johannesburg
in the company of General Piet Cronje and his faithful wife. General
Cronje told me that he was proceeding to the western districts of the
Republic to take up the command of the Potchefstroom and Lichtenburg
burghers. His instructions, he said, were to protect the Western
frontier.
I left General Cronje at Johannesburg on the 29th September, 1899, and
never saw him again until I met him at St. Helena nearly two and a
half years afterwards, on the 25th March, 1902. When I last saw him we
greeted each other as free men, as free and independent legislators
and officers of a free Republic. We fought for our rights to live as a
nation.
Now I meet the veteran Cronje a broken old man, captive like myself,
far away from our homes and our country.
Then and Now!
Then we went abroad free and freedom-loving men, burning with
patriotism. Our wives and our women-folk watched us go; full of sorrow
and anxiety, but satisfied that we were going abroad in our country's
cause.
And Now!
Two promising and prosperous Republics wrecked, their fair homesteads
destroyed, their people in mourning, and thousands of innocent women
and children the victims of a cruel war.
There is scarcely an Afrikander family without an unhealable wound.
Everywhere the traces of the bloody struggle; and, alas, most poignant
and distressing fact of all, burghers who fought side by side with us
in the earlier stages of the struggle are now to be found in the ranks
of the enemy.
These wretched men, ignoring their solemn duty, left their companions
in the lurch without sense of shame or respect for the braves who fell
fighting for their land and people.
Oh, day of judgment! The Afrikander nation will yet avenge your
treachery.