I ESCAPE FROM THE BOERS
Lourenço Marques: December 22, 1899,
How unhappy is that poor man who loses his liberty! What can the wide
world give him in exchange? No degree of material comfort, no
consciousness of correct behaviour, can balance the hateful degradation
of imprisonment. Before I had been an hour in captivity, as the previous
pages evidence, I resolved to escape. Many plans suggested themselves,
were examined, and rejected. For a month I thought of nothing else. But
the peril and difficulty restrained action. I think that it was the
report of the British defeat at Stormberg that clinched the matter. All
the news we heard in Pretoria was derived from Boer sources, and was
hideously exaggerated and distorted. Every day we read in the
'Volksstem'--probably the most astounding tissue of lies ever presented
to the public under the name of a newspaper--of Boer victories and of
the huge slaughters and shameful flights of the British. However much
one might doubt and discount these tales, they made a deep impression. A
month's feeding on such literary garbage weakens the constitution of the
mind. We wretched prisoners lost heart. Perhaps Great Britain would not
persevere; perhaps Foreign Powers would intervene; perhaps there would
be another disgraceful, cowardly peace. At the best the war and our
confinement would be prolonged for many months. I do not pretend that
impatience at being locked up was not the foundation of my
determination; but I should never have screwed up my courage to make the
attempt without the earnest desire to do something, however small, to
help the British cause. Of course, I am a man of peace. I did not then
contemplate becoming an officer of Irregular Horse. But swords are not
the only weapons in the world. Something may be done with a pen. So I
determined to take all hazards; and, indeed, the affair was one of very
great danger and difficulty.
The States Model Schools stand in the midst of a quadrangle, and are
surrounded on two sides by an iron grille and on two by a corrugated
iron fence about 10 ft. high. These boundaries offered little obstacle
to anyone who possessed the activity of youth, but the fact that they
were guarded on the inside by sentries, fifty yards apart, armed with
rifle and revolver, made them a well-nigh insuperable barrier. No walls
are so hard to pierce as living walls. I thought of the penetrating
power of gold, and the sentries were sounded. They were incorruptible. I
seek not to deprive them of the credit, but the truth is that the
bribery market in the Transvaal has been spoiled by the millionaires. I
could not afford with my slender resources to insult them heavily
enough. So nothing remained but to break out in spite of them. With
another officer who may for the present--since he is still a
prisoner--remain nameless, I formed a scheme.
[Illustration: Plan of States Model Schools]
After anxious reflection and continual watching, it was discovered that
when the sentries near the offices walked about on their beats they were
at certain moments unable to see the top of a few yards of the wall. The
electric lights in the middle of the quadrangle brilliantly lighted the
whole place but cut off the sentries beyond them from looking at the
eastern wall, for from behind the lights all seemed darkness by
contrast. The first thing was therefore to pass the two sentries near
the offices. It was necessary to hit off the exact moment when both
their backs should be turned together. After the wall was scaled we
should be in the garden of the villa next door. There our plan came to
an end. Everything after this was vague and uncertain. How to get out of
the garden, how to pass unnoticed through the streets, how to evade the
patrols that surrounded the town, and above all how to cover the two
hundred and eighty miles to the Portuguese frontiers, were questions
which would arise at a later stage. All attempts to communicate with
friends outside had failed. We cherished the hope that with chocolate,
a little Kaffir knowledge, and a great deal of luck, we might march the
distance in a fortnight, buying mealies at the native kraals and lying
hidden by day. But it did not look a very promising prospect.
We determined to try on the night of the 11th of December, making up our
minds quite suddenly in the morning, for these things are best done on
the spur of the moment. I passed the afternoon in positive terror.
Nothing, since my schooldays, has ever disturbed me so much as this.
There is something appalling in the idea of stealing secretly off in the
night like a guilty thief. The fear of detection has a pang of its own.
Besides, we knew quite well that on occasion, even on excuse, the
sentries would fire. Fifteen yards is a short range. And beyond the
immediate danger lay a prospect of severe hardship and suffering, only
faint hopes of success, and the probability at the best of five months
in Pretoria Gaol.
The afternoon dragged tediously away. I tried to read Mr. Lecky's
'History of England,' but for the first time in my life that wise
writer wearied me. I played chess and was hopelessly beaten. At last it
grew dark. At seven o'clock the bell for dinner rang and the officers
trooped off. Now was the time. But the sentries gave us no chance. They
did not walk about. One of them stood exactly opposite the only
practicable part of the wall. We waited for two hours, but the attempt
was plainly impossible, and so with a most unsatisfactory feeling of
relief to bed.
Tuesday, the 12th! Another day of fear, but fear crystallising more and
more into desperation. Anything was better than further suspense. Night
came again. Again the dinner bell sounded. Choosing my opportunity I
strolled across the quadrangle and secreted myself in one of the
offices. Through a chink I watched the sentries. For half an hour they
remained stolid and obstructive. Then all of a sudden one turned and
walked up to his comrade and they began to talk. Their backs were
turned. Now or never. I darted out of my hiding place and ran to the
wall, seized the top with my hands and drew myself up. Twice I let
myself down again in sickly hesitation, and then with a third resolve
scrambled up. The top was flat. Lying on it I had one parting glimpse of
the sentries, still talking, still with their backs turned; but, I
repeat, fifteen yards away. Then I lowered myself silently down into the
adjoining garden and crouched among the shrubs. I was free. The first
step had been taken, and it was irrevocable.
It now remained to await the arrival of my comrade. The bushes of the
garden gave a good deal of cover, and in the moonlight their shadows lay
black on the ground. Twenty yards away was the house, and I had not been
five minutes in hiding before I perceived that it was full of people;
the windows revealed brightly lighted rooms, and within I could see
figures moving about. This was a fresh complication. We had always
thought the house unoccupied. Presently--how long afterwards I do not
know, for the ordinary measures of time, hours, minutes, and seconds are
quite meaningless on such occasions--a man came out of the door and
walked across the garden in my direction. Scarcely ten yards away he
stopped and stood still, looking steadily towards me. I cannot describe
the surge of panic which nearly overwhelmed me. I must be discovered. I
dared not stir an inch. My heart beat so violently that I felt sick. But
amid a tumult of emotion, reason, seated firmly on her throne,
whispered, 'Trust to the dark background.' I remained absolutely
motionless. For a long time the man and I remained opposite each other,
and every instant I expected him to spring forward. A vague idea crossed
my mind that I might silence him. 'Hush, I am a detective. We expect
that an officer will break out here to-night. I am waiting to catch
him.' Reason--scornful this time--replied: 'Surely a Transvaal detective
would speak Dutch. Trust to the shadow.' So I trusted, and after a spell
another man came out of the house, lighted a cigar, and both he and the
other walked off together. No sooner had they turned than a cat pursued
by a dog rushed into the bushes and collided with me. The startled
animal uttered a 'miaul' of alarm and darted back again, making a
horrible rustling. Both men stopped at once. But it was only the cat, as
they doubtless observed, and they passed out of the garden gate into the
town.
I looked at my watch. An hour had passed since I climbed the wall. Where
was my comrade? Suddenly I heard a voice from within the quadrangle say,
quite loud, 'All up.' I crawled back to the wall. Two officers were
walking up and down the other side jabbering Latin words, laughing and
talking all manner of nonsense--amid which I caught my name. I risked a
cough. One of the officers immediately began to chatter alone. The other
said slowly and clearly, '... cannot get out. The sentry suspects. It's
all up. Can you get back again?' But now all my fears fell from me at
once. To go back was impossible. I could not hope to climb the wall
unnoticed. Fate pointed onwards. Besides, I said to myself, 'Of course,
I shall be recaptured, but I will at least have a run for my money.' I
said to the officers, 'I shall go on alone.'
Now I was in the right mood for these undertakings--that is to say that,
thinking failure almost certain, no odds against success affected me.
All risks were less than the certainty. A glance at the plan (p. 182)
will show that the rate which led into the road was only a few yards
from another sentry. I said to myself, 'Toujours de l'audace:' put my
hat on my head, strode into the middle of the garden, walked past the
windows of the house without any attempt at concealment, and so went
through the gate and turned to the left. I passed the sentry at less
than five yards. Most of them knew me by sight. Whether he looked at me
or not I do not know, for I never turned my head. But after walking a
hundred yards and hearing no challenge, I knew that the second obstacle
had been surmounted. I was at large in Pretoria.
I walked on leisurely through the night humming a tune and choosing the
middle of the road. The streets were full of Burghers, but they paid no
attention to me. Gradually I reached the suburbs, and on a little bridge
I sat down to reflect and consider. I was in the heart of the enemy's
country. I knew no one to whom I could apply for succour. Nearly three
hundred miles stretched between me and Delagoa Bay. My escape must be
known at dawn. Pursuit would be immediate. Yet all exits were barred.
The town was picketed, the country was patrolled, the trains were
searched, the line was guarded. I had 75_l_. in my pocket and four slabs
of chocolate, but the compass and the map which might have guided me,
the opium tablets and meat lozenges which should have sustained me, were
in my friend's pockets in the States Model Schools. Worst of all, I
could not speak a word of Dutch or Kaffir, and how was I to get food or
direction?
But when hope had departed, fear had gone as well. I formed a plan. I
would find the Delagoa Bay Railway. Without map or compass I must follow
that in spite of the pickets. I looked at the stars. Orion shone
brightly. Scarcely a year ago he had guided me when lost in the desert
to the banks of the Nile. He had given me water. Now he should lead to
freedom. I could not endure the want of either.
After walking south for half a mile, I struck the railroad. Was it the
line to Delagoa Bay or the Pietersburg branch? If it were the former it
should run east. But so far as I could see this line ran northwards.
Still, it might be only winding its way out among the hills. I resolved
to follow it. The night was delicious. A cool breeze fanned my face and
a wild feeling of exhilaration took hold of me. At any rate, I was free,
if only for an hour. That was something. The fascination of the
adventure grew. Unless the stars in their courses fought for me I could
not escape. Where, then, was the need of caution? I marched briskly
along the line. Here and there the lights of a picket fire gleamed.
Every bridge had its watchers. But I passed them all, making very short
detours at the dangerous places, and really taking scarcely any
precautions. Perhaps that was the reason I succeeded.
As I walked I extended my plan. I could not march three hundred miles
to the frontier. I would board a train in motion and hide under the
seats, on the roof, on the couplings--anywhere. What train should I
take? The first, of course. After walking for two hours I perceived the
signal lights of a station. I left the line, and, circling round it, hid
in the ditch by the track about 200 yards beyond it. I argued that the
train would stop at the station and that it would not have got up too
much speed by the time it reached me. An hour passed. I began to grow
impatient. Suddenly I heard the whistle and the approaching rattle. Then
the great yellow head lights of the engine flashed into view. The train
waited five minutes at the station and started again with much noise and
steaming. I crouched by the track. I rehearsed the act in my mind. I
must wait until the engine had passed, otherwise I should be seen. Then
I must make a dash for the carriages.
The train started slowly, but gathered speed sooner than I had expected.
The flaring lights drew swiftly near. The rattle grew into a roar. The
dark mass hung for a second above me. The engine-driver silhouetted
against his furnace glow, the black profile of the engine, the clouds of
steam rushed past. Then I hurled myself on the trucks, clutched at
something, missed, clutched again, missed again, grasped some sort of
hand-hold, was swung off my feet--my toes bumping on the line, and with
a struggle seated myself on the couplings of the fifth truck from the
front of the train. It was a goods train, and the trucks were full of
sacks, soft sacks covered with coal dust. I crawled on top and burrowed
in among them. In five minutes I was completely buried. The sacks were
warm and comfortable. Perhaps the engine-driver had seen me rush up to
the train and would give the alarm at the next station: on the other
hand, perhaps not. Where was the train going to? Where would it be
unloaded? Would it be searched? Was it on the Delagoa Bay line? What
should I do in the morning? Ah, never mind that. Sufficient for the day
was the luck thereof. Fresh plans for fresh contingencies. I resolved
to sleep, nor can I imagine a more pleasing lullaby than the clatter of
the train that carries you at twenty miles an hour away from the enemy's
capital.
How long I slept I do not know, but I woke up suddenly with all feelings
of exhilaration gone, and only the consciousness of oppressive
difficulties heavy on me. I must leave the train before daybreak, so
that I could drink at a pool and find some hiding-place while it was
still dark. Another night I would board another train. I crawled from my
cosy hiding-place among the sacks and sat again on the couplings. The
train was running at a fair speed, but I felt it was time to leave it. I
took hold of the iron handle at the back of the truck, pulled strongly
with my left hand, and sprang. My feet struck the ground in two gigantic
strides, and the next instant I was sprawling in the ditch, considerably
shaken but unhurt. The train, my faithful ally of the night, hurried on
its journey.
It was still dark. I was in the middle of a wide valley, surrounded by
low hills, and carpeted with high grass drenched in dew. I searched for
water in the nearest gully, and soon found a clear pool. I was very
thirsty, but long after I had quenched my thirst I continued to drink,
that I might have sufficient for the whole day.
Presently the dawn began to break, and the sky to the east grew yellow
and red, slashed across with heavy black clouds. I saw with relief that
the railway ran steadily towards the sunrise. I had taken the right
line, after all.
Having drunk my fill, I set out for the hills, among which I hoped to
find some hiding-place, and as it became broad daylight I entered a
small grove of trees which grew on the side of a deep ravine. Here I
resolved to wait till dusk. I had one consolation: no one in the world
knew where I was--I did not know myself. It was now four o'clock.
Fourteen hours lay between me and the night. My impatience to proceed,
while I was still strong, doubled their length. At first it was terribly
cold, but by degrees the sun gained power, and by ten o'clock the heat
was oppressive. My sole companion was a gigantic vulture, who manifested
an extravagant interest in my condition, and made hideous and ominous
gurglings from time to time. From my lofty position I commanded a view
of the whole valley. A little tin-roofed town lay three miles to the
westward. Scattered farmsteads, each with a clump of trees, relieved the
monotony of the undulating ground. At the foot of the hill stood a
Kaffir kraal, and the figures of its inhabitants dotted the patches of
cultivation or surrounded the droves of goats and cows which fed on the
pasture. The railway ran through the middle of the valley, and I could
watch the passage of the various trains. I counted four passing each
way, and from this I drew the conclusion that the same number would run
by night. I marked a steep gradient up which they climbed very slowly,
and determined at nightfall to make another attempt to board one of
these. During the day I ate one slab of chocolate, which, with the heat,
produced a violent thirst. The pool was hardly half a mile away, but I
dared not leave the shelter of the little wood, for I could see the
figures of white men riding or walking occasionally across the valley,
and once a Boer came and fired two shots at birds close to my
hiding-place. But no one discovered me.
The elation and the excitement of the previous night had burnt away, and
a chilling reaction followed. I was very hungry, for I had had no dinner
before starting, and chocolate, though it sustains, does not satisfy. I
had scarcely slept, but yet my heart beat so fiercely and I was so
nervous and perplexed about the future that I could not rest. I thought
of all the chances that lay against me; I dreaded and detested more than
words can express the prospect of being caught and dragged back to
Pretoria. I do not mean that I would rather have died than have been
retaken, but I have often feared death for much less. I found no comfort
in any of the philosophical ideas which some men parade in their hours
of ease and strength and safety. They seemed only fair-weather friends.
I realised with awful force that no exercise of my own feeble wit and
strength could save me from my enemies, and that without the assistance
of that High Power which interferes in the eternal sequence of causes
and effects more often than we are always prone to admit, I could never
succeed. I prayed long and earnestly for help and guidance. My prayer,
as it seems to me, was swiftly and wonderfully answered, I cannot now
relate the strange circumstances which followed, and which changed my
nearly hopeless position into one of superior advantage. But after the
war is over I shall hope to lengthen this account, and so remarkable
will the addition be that I cannot believe the reader will complain.
The long day reached its close at last. The western clouds flushed into
fire; the shadows of the hills stretched out across the valley. A
ponderous Boer waggon, with its long team, crawled slowly along the
track towards the town. The Kaffirs collected their herds and drew
around their kraal. The daylight died, and soon it was quite dark.
Then, and not till then, I set forth, I hurried to the railway line,
pausing on my way to drink at a stream of sweet, cold water. I waited
for some time at the top of the steep gradient in the hope of catching a
train. But none came, and I gradually guessed, and I have since found
that I guessed right, that the train I had already travelled in was the
only one that ran at night. At last I resolved to walk on, and make, at
any rate, twenty miles of my journey. I walked for about six hours. How
far I travelled I do not know, but I do not think that it was very many
miles in the direct line. Every bridge was guarded by armed men; every
few miles were gangers' huts; at intervals there were stations with
villages clustering round them. All the veldt was bathed in the bright
rays of the full moon, and to avoid these dangerous places I had to make
wide circuits and often to creep along the ground. Leaving the railroad
I fell into bogs and swamps, and brushed through high grass dripping
with dew, so that I was drenched to the waist. I had been able to take
little exercise during my month's imprisonment, and I was soon tired out
with walking, as well as from want of food and sleep. I felt very
miserable when I looked around and saw here and there the lights of
houses, and thought of the warmth and comfort within them, but knew that
they only meant danger to me. After six or seven hours of walking I
thought it unwise to go further lest I should exhaust myself, so I lay
down in a ditch to sleep. I was nearly at the end of my tether.
Nevertheless, by the will of God, I was enabled to sustain myself during
the next few days, obtaining food at great risk here and there, resting
in concealment by day and walking only at night. On the fifth day I was
beyond Middelburg, so far as I could tell, for I dared not inquire nor
as yet approach the stations near enough to read the names. In a secure
hiding-place I waited for a suitable train, knowing that there is a
through service between Middelburg and Lourenço Marques.
Meanwhile there had been excitement in the States Model Schools,
temporarily converted into a military prison. Early on Wednesday
morning--barely twelve hours after I had escaped--my absence was
discovered--I think by Dr. Gunning. The alarm was given. Telegrams with
my description at great length were despatched along all the railways.
Three thousand photographs were printed. A warrant was issued for my
immediate arrest. Every train was strictly searched. Everyone was on the
watch. The worthy Boshof, who knew my face well, was hurried off to
Komati Poort to examine all and sundry people "with red hair" travelling
towards the frontier. The newspapers made so much of the affair that my
humble fortunes and my whereabouts were discussed in long columns of
print, and even in the crash of the war I became to the Boers a topic
all to myself. The rumours in part amused me. It was certain, said the
"Standard and Diggers' News," that I had escaped disguised as a woman.
The next day I was reported captured at Komati Poort dressed as a
Transvaal policeman. There was great delight at this, which was only
changed to doubt when other telegrams said that I had been arrested at
Brugsbank, at Middelburg, and at Bronkerspruit. But the captives proved
to be harmless people after all. Finally it was agreed that I had never
left Pretoria. I had--it appeared--changed clothes with a waiter, and
was now in hiding at the house of some British sympathiser in the
capital. On the strength of this all the houses of suspected persons
were searched from top to bottom, and these unfortunate people were, I
fear, put to a great deal of inconvenience. A special commission was
also appointed to investigate 'stringently' (a most hateful adjective in
such a connection) the causes 'which had rendered it possible for the
War Correspondent of the "Morning Post" to escape.'
The 'Volksstem' noticed as a significant fact that I had recently become
a subscriber to the State Library, and had selected Mill's essay 'On
Liberty.' It apparently desired to gravely deprecate prisoners having
access to such inflammatory literature. The idea will, perhaps, amuse
those who have read the work in question.
I find it very difficult in the face of the extraordinary efforts which
were made to recapture me, to believe that the Transvaal Government
seriously contemplated my release _before_ they knew I had escaped them.
Yet a telegram was swiftly despatched from Pretoria to all the
newspapers, setting forth the terms of a most admirable letter, in which
General Joubert explained the grounds which prompted him generously to
restore my liberty. I am inclined to think that the Boers hate being
beaten even in the smallest things, and always fight on the win, tie, or
wrangle principle; but in my case I rejoice I am not beholden to them,
and have not thus been disqualified from fighting.
All these things may provoke a smile of indifference, perhaps even of
triumph, after the danger is past; but during the days when I was lying
up in holes and corners, waiting for a good chance to board a train, the
causes that had led to them preyed more than I knew on my nerves. To be
an outcast, to be hunted, to lie under a warrant for arrest, to fear
every man, to have imprisonment--not necessarily military confinement
either--hanging overhead, to fly the light, to doubt the shadows--all
these things ate into my soul and have left an impression that will not
perhaps be easily effaced.
On the sixth day the chance I had patiently waited for came. I found a
convenient train duly labelled to Lourenço Marques standing in a siding.
I withdrew to a suitable spot for boarding it--for I dared not make the
attempt in the station--and, filling a bottle with water to drink on the
way, I prepared for the last stage of my journey.
The truck in which I ensconced myself was laden with great sacks of some
soft merchandise, and I found among them holes and crevices by means of
which I managed to work my way to the inmost recess. The hard floor was
littered with gritty coal dust, and made a most uncomfortable bed. The
heat was almost stifling. I was resolved, however, that nothing should
lure or compel me from my hiding-place until I reached Portuguese
territory. I expected the journey to take thirty-six hours; it dragged
out into two and a half days. I hardly dared sleep for fear of snoring.
I dreaded lest the trucks should be searched at Komati Poort, and my
anxiety as the train approached this neighbourhood was very great. To
prolong it we were shunted on to a siding for eighteen hours either at
Komati Poort or the station beyond it. Once indeed they began to search
my truck, and I heard the tarpaulin rustle as they pulled at it, but
luckily they did not search deep enough, so that, providentially
protected, I reached Delagoa Bay at last, and crawled forth from my
place of refuge and of punishment, weary, dirty, hungry, but free once
more.
Thereafter everything smiled. I found my way to the British Consul, Mr.
Ross, who at first mistook me for a fireman off one of the ships in the
harbour, but soon welcomed me with enthusiasm. I bought clothes, I
washed, I sat down to dinner with a real tablecloth and real glasses;
and fortune, determined not to overlook the smallest detail, had
arranged that the steamer 'Induna' should leave that very night for
Durban. As soon as the news of my arrival spread about the town, I
received many offers of assistance from the English residents, and lest
any of the Boer agents with whom Lourenço Marques is infested should
attempt to recapture me in neutral territory, nearly a dozen gentlemen
escorted me to the steamer armed with revolvers. It is from the cabin of
this little vessel, as she coasts along the sandy shores of Africa, that
I write the concluding lines of this letter, and the reader who may
persevere through this hurried account will perhaps understand why I
write them with a feeling of triumph, and better than triumph, a feeling
of pure joy.