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ON COMMANDO
by
DIETLOF VAN WARMELO
With a Portrait
Methuen & Co.
36 Essex Street W.C.
London
Colonial Library
1902
[Illustration: DIETLOF VAN WARMELO]
PREFACE
This book was written in 1901, while its author was a prisoner at
Ahmednagar. It was written in Dutch, and has been put into English by a
young lady from what was the Orange Free State.
The author is a friend and relation of mine, son of a clergyman in the
Transvaal, and of old Afrikander stock on both sides. His book is the
more valuable because of the absence of all literary pretensions, and it
may be taken as truly representative of the Afrikander spirit, which has
been so much misconceived in England.
FREDERIK VAN EEDEN
WALDEN, N. HOLLAND,
_July_, 1902
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
FOREWORD
I. AT THE BOUNDARY--ENTRANCE INTO NATAL--DUNDEE--LADYSMITH
II. SIEGE OF LADYSMITH--BATTLE OF THE ROOIRANDJES--BLOWING
UP OF THE CANNON
III. THE EIGHT-DAY BATTLE OF THE TUGELA--TALK OF
INTERVENTION--RELIEF OF LADYSMITH
IV. DEWETSDRIFT--RETURN TO, AND FLIGHT FROM, PRETORIA
V. TREK FROM MIDDELBURG TO RUSTENBURG--BATTLE OF SELIKATSNEK
VI. GUERILLA LIFE ON THE MAGALIES MOUNTAINS--NARROW ESCAPE
OF PRESIDENT STEYN AND GENERAL DE WET
VII. WITH PRESIDENT STEYN TO PRESIDENT KRUGER
VIII. WITH PRESIDENT STEYN IN THE BOSCHVELD--LOST
IX. PRACTICAL HINTS--ADVENTURE ON THE SABIE--NORTH OF LYDENBURG
X. FROM ROOSSENEKAL TO PIETERSBURG--WITH GENERAL BEYERS
TO THE MAGALIES MOUNTAINS
XI. BATTLE OF NOOITGEDACHT
XII. PAARDEKRAAL DAY--BATTLE IN THE MOAT--ATTACK ON KAALFONTEIN
STATION
XIII. COMMANDO SUFFERINGS
XIV. BATTLE OF BOESMANSKOP--FLIGHT OF WOMEN
XV. BATTLE OF CHRISSIESMEER--REUNION WITH GENERAL BEYERS
XVI. CAMPED NEAR TAFELKOP
CONCLUSION: BATTLE OF STOMPIES--IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY
MY LIFE ON COMMANDO
FOREWORD
Could I have known that the war would last so long, I might from the
beginning have taken notes. They would have brought back memories in a
way pleasant to me now, and perhaps also to those who have asked me to
write down my adventures.
Often it occurred to me to keep a diary, but I was obliged to give up
the idea because my clothes were sometimes so thoroughly drenched that
the letters in my pocket were not readable. Later on, when clothes were
scarce and pockets past mending, I often made the unpleasant discovery
that caused the fool, on his journey from the land of Kokanje, to cry to
the King: 'We have ridden at such a breakneck pace, see, everything has
slipped through this little hole!' Now I am obliged to write down my
adventures without any notes, so dates, numbers, and names of places
will occasionally be missing. It stands to reason that I--being an exile
in a strange country, in the fort of ... in ..., cut off from the world
outside and without any official reports--should simply limit myself to
my own personal experience. And, lastly, I must apologize to my readers
for so often speaking of myself and my friends; but that is inevitable
in this tale.
I shall pass rapidly over the first part of my life on commando. If my
memory plays me false--which is not very probable, as I still have a
lively recollection of the events--I shall be grateful for correction.
_July_, 1901.
I
AT THE BOUNDARY--ENTRANCE INTO NATAL--DUNDEE--LADYSMITH
When that part of the Pretoria town commando to which my brother Frits
and I belonged left for the Natal boundary on September 30, 1899, we
were all very enthusiastic, as could be seen from the nice new suits,
the new shining guns, and the sleek horses. Many ladies had come to the
station to see us off, and we were proud of having the opportunity to
fight for our country. Our departure seemed then to us a great occasion,
we were inexperienced in war. We had not yet learnt that one could pass
unscathed through many a fierce battle. We knew nothing of 'retreating'
and we knew all about the enemy with whom we were to come in contact. We
imagined that several sharp engagements would take place--that these
would be decisive battles in which many of our men would be killed, and
therefore the parting with relatives and friends was sad indeed.
Our Field-Cornet, Melt Marais, had told us that we had nothing to see to
except provisions for a day or two, as Government would supply us with
all necessaries at Zandspruit, where the commandos were to concentrate;
so many of us took neither pots, pans, nor mugs.
What a disillusion it was to find on our arrival at Zandspruit that
there were no tents, and as yet no provisions of any kind! So we were
initiated by having to pass the first nights of our commando life on the
open veld with insufficient food. And in the daytime our work was cut
out for us, as every other minute our horses disappeared--lost among the
thousands of horses that all looked exactly alike in the eyes of an
inexperienced townsman. Then it meant a running and seeking, an
examining of marks and tokens, until the stupid among us were obliged to
tie ribbons to our horses as a means of recognising them. And one, the
story goes, even tied a nosebag, with a bundle of forage, to his mount
so that it should not run away.
At length the provisions began to arrive, but the pots and pans were
still scarce and we could not even drink a cup of coffee till a tin of
jam or meat had been emptied.
We were just beginning to feel comfortable, when the time stated in the
ultimatum expired, and we had to cross the boundary of Natal. General
Erasmus was at the head of our commando. We spent the night near
Volksrust in a cold hail storm and rain. Those first days we are not
likely to forget. They were wet, cold days, and we were still
unaccustomed to preparing our own food and looking after ourselves.
Fortunately, we had the opportunity, a few days later, of supplying
ourselves with all necessaries at Newcastle.
Before we crossed the boundary General Erasmus had addressed us and told
us the news of our first victory--the taking of an armoured train at
Kraaipan; at that time we still made a fuss about such a trifle. Also,
in those days, we still looked up with respect to our leaders.
Ds. Postma, who accompanied us everywhere, led us in prayer. Not one of
the burghers seems to have known where the enemy were. We advanced
slowly and carefully, as we expected _to meet with the enemy at any
moment_; but we saw no signs of them until we came to Dundee. After a
rest of a few days we undertook the momentous expedition to the
mountains of Dundee, to the north of the town.
Towards evening we got the order to 'prepare for three days.' For three
days! And we had not even provisions enough for one. But we understood
that there could not yet be a proper commissariat, and we fought for our
country willingly, convinced of the justice of our cause; so we
'prepared' cheerfully.
Before the commando started, a terrible thunderstorm came on that slowly
passed over and was followed by a gentle rain. We rode hard in the dark,
through dongas, past farms and houses, zigzagging in a half-circle, to
the mountains of Dundee. No sound was to be heard except the dull thud
of the hoofs of the galloping horses. Now and again we whispered to each
other how delightfully we were going to surprise the enemy. When the
horses came to a sudden pause, and an inexperienced rider, owing to a
presentiment of evil, involuntarily uttered his wish to 'halt,' we
turned upon him angrily and called him 'traitor.' We did not then know
that we were far beyond earshot of the enemy. It stopped raining, and
towards morning we reached the mountains; and after we had with great
difficulty got our horses on to the mountains, we had to await the dawn
in the cold, drenched to the skin. A mackintosh is of small service in
such a rain. When the day dawned we led our horses higher up. A thick
fog had come on. General Lucas Meyer was to begin the attack on the
west, and we were to surprise the enemy from the heights.
When the roar of cannon announced the battle, we were full of
enthusiasm, but General Erasmus forbade anyone to move on before the fog
lifted. It was quite possible that the fog might be only on the
mountain-tops, because of their great height, and that we would have
clear weather as soon as we began to descend, therefore several of our
men begged General Erasmus to be allowed to go on ahead as scouts. But
he was very much against it, and said that the enemy might cut off our
retreat, and 'if the enemy surround us it is all up with us,' said he.
As soon as the roar of the cannon ceased, we withdrew some distance into
the mountains to let our horses graze. But we had only just off-saddled,
when from all sides came the cry of 'Saddle! saddle!' and from our left,
in the valley, came the sound of firing. A detachment of 250 khakies,
probably knowing nothing of our whereabouts, and intending to pass round
the mountains and attack Lucas Meyer in the rear, was compelled to
surrender in a few moments, after first having sought cover in a kraal
near a house.
We remained three days on the Dundee mountains, and during all that time
there was a steady drizzle, with intervals of hail and wind. Once when
it cleared up for a few hours we got the order to attack the town, but
it began to rain again, and that night we had to keep our positions in
the intense cold, without any covering. Fortunately, the enemy abandoned
their camp that night, and when we looked down upon the town next
morning the khakies had vanished. We had only the preceding day placed
our cannon in a position to command the camp.
When we returned to our saddles, the horses had strayed so far that it
took us almost all day to get them back. My uncle, Paul Maré, formerly
Volksraad member for Zoutpansberg, treated us to kaboe-mealies (roasted
maize), the first we had on commando, and we ate with great relish.
Meanwhile the commando had left. We followed, and entered Dundee, where
we helped ourselves hungrily to the good things from the shops placed at
the disposal of the commandos.
In an unorganized army looting is a necessary evil. There are always
some of the lower classes who are the ringleaders, and when the
commandos reach a house or farm that has already been looted, they join
in the looting 'because the burghers are on commando, and they must be
well supplied with all necessaries, so as to be able to fight well.' So
we reasoned, and we joined in the looting. I can affirm, to the honour
of our burghers, that it was not our intention to plunder, and in the
beginning much was done to prevent it. The lower class Uitlander, who
joined us for the sake of booty, and not for love and sympathy towards
us, was largely responsible for the bad name we got among right-minded
people who did not know the facts of the case. It was the same as
regards theft. If anyone missed his horse, he had but to look for it
among the 'Irish corps,' or some other Uitlander corps, and unless he
knew his beast well he would fail to recognise it, as both mane and tail
would have been cut short by the thief. I do not wish to pretend that
_we_ were always free from blame. It has happened that the Uitlander got
a very poor horse in exchange for his thoroughbred because a Boer had
tied the token of recognition to his own horse and made off with the
better one. The truth is that very few men are proof against the
demoralizing influence of war, and I will not deny that this war has
shown up our many faults; but in my tale I shall be able to take up the
cudgels for my people in cases where the rest of the world turned from
us because they were disappointed in their expectations of us.
After our departure from Dundee the looting went on freely. Then we
began to witness the devastation that is the irremediable consequence of
war. Here and there a house had been completely plundered. At Glencoe
Junction I entered the stationmaster's house, a well-furnished house
with beautiful pictures, books, and mirrors. Some massive silver mugs
and other articles of value were lying about. The family had only just
dined, for the cloth was still laid. I ate of the food on the table,
wrote a letter home with pen and ink, and left the house. Later on, when
I returned, it had been thoroughly looted and some of the mirrors
smashed. There were many of the riff-raff, Kaffirs and coolies in the
neighbourhood, and in all probability they had done the mischief.
When our commando left Dundee to move in the direction of Ladysmith,
part of the Pretoria town commando was sent to reinforce Lucas Meyer,
who was to follow the troops fleeing from Dundee with his commando. My
brother and I went with it. A terrible thunderstorm came on just then,
and during the whole march to Ladysmith it rained heavily. Every moment
we expected to come up with the troops, but they had too great a start,
and we did not overtake them at all. We were too late again. An English
General has said that 'the Boers are brave, and make good plans, but are
always twenty-four hours late.' That can be explained in this way. We
were accustomed to fighting against Kaffirs, who hid in woods and
mountains, and against whom we had to advance with the utmost
precaution, so as to lose as few lives as possible. So we were too
cautious in the beginning of the war. We would not make a great
sacrifice to win a battle.
On October 30 we were present, under Lucas Meyer, at the battle near
Ladysmith, but we did not come into action, as we belonged to a part of
the commando that had to hold a position to prevent attack in the rear.
The enemy did not attack our position at all, except with a few bombs,
because they suffered a great defeat near Modderspruit, and had to
retreat hurriedly. From our positions we could see how every time the
bombs burst among them the fleeing troops seemed to get 'mazed' for a
moment, and then went forward again.
At that time we were often in want of food. One must have suffered
hunger to know what it means. In a few linen bags I had some biscuits
that had first been reduced to crumbs through the riding, and then to a
kind of pap by the rain and perspiration of the horse. Often when I
felt the pangs of famine I added some sugar to this mess and ate it with
relish.
Some days later we left Lucas Meyer and returned to our commando, which
had meanwhile gone to the north of Ladysmith. During our absence
Zeederberg had taken the place of Melt Marais as Veld-Cornet.
II
SIEGE OF LADYSMITH--BATTLE OF THE ROOIRANDJES--BLOWING UP OF THE CANNON
When we surrounded the town and the siege began, all talk of the bananas
that we were to eat in the south of Natal came to an end.
Ladysmith ought never to have been besieged. On October 30 we should
have made use of our advantage. If we had at once followed the enemy
when they fled in disorder, we should in all probability easily have
taken those positions that would have involved the immediate surrender
of Ladysmith. Many lives would have been sacrificed, but not so many as
were sacrificed during the whole siege. And we might have used those men
who were necessary to maintain the siege elsewhere as an attacking
force. Instead of following up our advantage, we deliberately prepared
for a siege. The enemy meanwhile made use of the opportunity to entrench
themselves well. Most of our burghers were against our attempting to
take the town by assault when once it was thoroughly entrenched.
The Pretoria town commando and that from Krokodil River in the Pretoria
district occupied the position nearest to Ladysmith. This was a hill to
the north of the town, flat at the top, and surrounded by a stone wall.
In all probability the enclosed depression of about 500 paces in circuit
had been used as a cattle-kraal. Against that kopje (hill) we gradually
put up our tents. From our camp we looked on to a large flat mountain
that we called Little Amajuba, because on October 30 the first large
capture of prisoners had been made there. In front of our kopje, near
the foot, ran a donga, and at a distance of about 1,000 paces, parallel
to us, lay another oblong kopje occupied by the enemy. This kopje we
called Rooirandjes.
On November 8 we received the order from our General to attack the
Rooirandjes the following day. We were about 250 strong, and very
willing, as that position had not yet been entrenched. On a mountain to
our right a cannon had been placed that was to begin firing on the
enemy's position towards dawn. Distinct orders were given that our
Veld-Cornet was to be at the foot of Rooirandjes with his men before
daybreak. But something went wrong again, and it was already quite light
when we reached the donga. We found ourselves at a distance of about 700
paces from the Rooirandjes, and we had to cross an open space if we
still wished to storm the position. The enemy's watch already began
shooting at us.
The corporals let their men advance in groups of four from the donga to
the kopje, using the ant-hills as cover when they lay down. Our turn
came last, but meanwhile the enemy had received reinforcements, and the
nearest ant-hills were nearly all occupied, so that only three men could
go at a time. Such a shower of bullets fell that it was a miracle that
we came out of it alive. Fortunately I found a free ant-hill. My brother
had to share one with a comrade.
At last the cannon from the mountain fired a few shots, but stopped
again almost immediately--why, I do not yet know. So we were obliged to
lie in our positions. It was terribly hot, and not a cloud in the sky.
We suffered horribly from thirst, and scarcely dared move to get at our
water-bags. One of our comrades lay groaning behind me. He was shot
through both legs. The bullets kept flying over our heads to the kopje
behind us, where some of our burghers lay firing at the enemy. Every now
and again a bullet exploded in our neighbourhood with the noise of a
pistol-shot. I fancy only Dum-Dums make that peculiar noise. We had
already seen many such bullets taken from the enemy by our burghers in
the Battle of Modderspruit. Another burgher, Mulder, ran past me with a
smile on his lips, threw himself behind an ant-hill, immediately rose
again with the intention of joining some of our burghers in the front
ranks, who sat calmly smoking behind some rocks under a tree, but had
not gone two paces when he was shot in the thigh. There he had to lie
groaning until our brave Reineke, who was killed later on at Spion Kop,
saw a chance of carrying him away.
Some of us fell asleep from fatigue. One of our men on waking heard the
hiss of a bullet over his head at regular intervals, and thought that a
khaki had got closer up to him, and was firing at him from the side.
When he lifted his head he found that he had rolled away from all cover.
One, two, three, back he was again behind his ant-hill, and the
scoundrel stopped firing at him. It was lucky for us that the enemy were
such bad shots, or not many of us would have lived to tell the tale.
When our cannon at last, towards evening, condescended to bombard the
enemy, the firing almost wholly ceased, and we made use of that
favourable opportunity to get back to the donga. We had lain nine hours
behind those ant-hills, and, strange to say, there were only two wounded
on our side. We decided not to run the same risk again. In this way we
lost our confidence in men like the brothers Erasmus, General and
Commandant, who, in the first place, were incapable of organizing a good
plan of attack, and, secondly, never took part in a battle.
The months spent near Ladysmith were to most of us the most tedious of
the whole war. We had so little to do, and the heat between the glowing
rocks of the kopjes was awful. The little work we had was anything but
pleasant; it consisted chiefly in keeping guard either by day or by
night. In the beginning a very bad watch was kept. Later on we had to
climb the kopje at least every alternate evening to pass the long nights
in our positions, while not far behind us stood our empty tents.
When we got back in the morning with our bundles on our backs, dead
tired, we simply 'flopped' on to a stone, and sat waiting for our cup of
coffee, either gazing at the lovely landscape or at the dirty camp,
according to the mood we were in, or exchanging loud jokes with our
neighbours. Constantly being on guard and constantly being in danger
wears one out. We much prefer active service on patrol or in a skirmish
to lying in our positions. It is not in the nature of the Boer to lie
inactive far from his home. He soon wants to go 'huis-toe' (home), and
very soon the 'leave-plague' broke out in our camp. That plague was one
of the causes why the enemy succeeded in breaking through our lines.
Through unfairness on the part of the officers, some burghers often got
leave, others never, and the consequence, of course, was a constant
quarrelling. Many burghers got leave and never returned--either with or
without the knowledge of the officers. No wonder we never had a proper
fighting force in the field.
The difficulties we had to contend with through want of organization
prevented the Generals from putting their plans into execution.
Fortunately, many burghers were very willing, and if there was to be a
fight they always went voluntarily. It was noticeable that those under a
capable General fought well, while those under a bad or incapable
General were very weak indeed. Sometimes wonders were done at the
initiative of some of the burghers. We had a few games in the camp to
pass the time, but we were kept busy in a different way also. Sometimes,
when we were all just comfortably lazy, the order would be given to
'mount.' That meant a hurried search for our horses and snatching up our
guns and bandoliers. But after a while we had had enough of those false
alarms, and they failed to make any impression on us. The call of 'The
English are coming! saddle, saddle!' became proverbial.
When we did not keep such constant guard, we sat or lay listening of an
evening to a most discordant noise caused by the singing of psalms and
hymns at the same time at different farms. We sometimes joined in. As a
people we are not very musical.
The day-watch we liked best. Then we often got a chance of firing a shot
at a careless khaki on the Rooirandjes. To some of our young men there
was something very exciting in the idea that they were in constant
danger. Every now and again a bomb, too, would come flying over the
camp, and the whole commando would make for the rocks amid shouts of
laughter.
At that time we still felt rather down when there was a fight in
prospect. When, some time after our attack on the Rooirandjes, we went
to the west of Ladysmith to attack Platrand, we did not feel at all
comfortable, although we went voluntarily. It was a lovely ride in the
dark at a flying gallop, but when we found on our arrival at Platrand
that the promised number of men was not there, we rode away again quite
satisfied that we had not to attempt the attack. For had we not made up
our minds not to risk a repetition of the attack on Rooirandjes?
The blowing-up of the cannon at Ladysmith is one of the episodes of the
war that we look back upon with a feeling of shame. A few days after a
Long Tom had been blown up on Umbulwana Kop, east of Ladysmith, I warned
our Field-Cornet that the enemy were busy spying in our neighbourhood at
night. While on guard, we could distinctly hear the flapping of the
saddles and the neighing of the horses in front of us. I foretold a
repetition of what had happened on Umbulwana Kop. The Field-Cornet
promised that the guard would be doubled that night. Towards morning
those of us who were not on guard were waked out of our sleep by a loud
cry of 'Hurrah!' from the throats of a few hundred Englishmen who were
blowing up two cannon on a mountain to our right, close to us. We sprang
towards our positions, stumbling and falling over stones, not knowing
what was going on, and expecting the khakies at any moment. It was the
first time that we had heard a fight at night, and it gave us a creepy
feeling. We saw the flames of the guns and from the exploding bullets,
and heard the rattling of the shots and the shouting, but we could not
join in the fight, as we--eight of us--were not allowed to leave our
positions. Now and again a bullet fell in our neighbourhood, and the
Free State Artillery, who were on the mountains to the right, fired some
bombs at the enemy, nearly hitting us in the dark.
When it got lighter we went to look at the dead and wounded, perhaps
from a feeling of bravado, perhaps to accustom ourselves to the sight.
The enemy had paid dearly for their brave deed. They know the number of
their dead and wounded better than we do, for they had opportunity
enough to carry them away. On our side only four were killed and a few
wounded. Niemeyer, Van Zyl and Villiers were among the killed. Pott was
severely wounded. Niemeyer had several bayonet wounds.
After that we were, of course, doubly careful. We have never been able
to discover who failed in their duty on guard. Cooper and Tossel were
suspected and accused. They were sent to Pretoria under arrest, but the
investigation never led to any result. We have every reason to believe
that our burghers were guilty of treachery more than once near
Ladysmith. Government ought from the start to have taken strict measures
against traitors and spies.
Some days after the blowing up of the cannon I sprained my left knee,
which I had already hurt before the war began. General Erasmus gave me
leave to go home for an unlimited time. On my way home I passed my
brother Willem without being aware of it. He had come from Holland,
where he was studying, to take part in the war.
What a meeting with relatives and friends! How much there was to tell!
Even then we had not experienced very much, and how much more will our
burghers have to tell their dear ones on returning from their exile in
strange countries! There will, alas! be much sorrow, too; for many of
our friends and relatives have been killed in this war, and many more
will have yet to give their lives for their country!
III
THE EIGHT-DAY BATTLE OF THE TUGELA--TALK OF INTERVENTION--RELIEF OF
LADYSMITH
Before my knee was quite cured I returned to Ladysmith. The first thing
that caught my eye on my return to the camp was the balloon above
Ladysmith. It looked just like a large crocodile-eye as it followed all
my movements. When I went to look for my horse or to fetch water or
wood, there it stood, high up in the sky, and I felt as if it kept its
eye specially fixed on me, and as if I might expect a bomb at any
moment.
We had never in all our lives seen so many flies as at Ladysmith. We had
to hurry over our meals as they made eating almost an impossibility to
us. Fortunately, I was only a short time there, as towards the end of
January, 1900, part of our commando, including my brother and myself,
was sent to the Tugela as reinforcement. We had a distance of four and a
half hours to ride, and we had to ride hard, as the enemy were
determined to force their way through. We arrived the same day, just two
days after the enemy had tried to force their way through to the right
of Spion Kop and had been defeated. On nearing the high Tugela mountains
we heard more and more distinctly the constant rattling of bullets,
interrupted by the roar of the cannon and the bom-bom-bom of our saucy
bomb-Maxim, that made our hearts expand and those of the enemy shrink.
As we raced on to the foot of the mountains, the bullets that the enemy
were sending over the mountains to find the Boers raised the dust around
us.
The following morning we went to lie in a trench that had been dug by
our men on a rise to the right of Spion Kop. The previous day eight
burghers had been wounded there. Red Danie Opperman was Field-Cornet.
Not far from us, to our left, stood a few of our cannon, and facing us,
to our left, on the long mountain slope, we could see fourteen guns of
the enemy's. In front of us was a large wood, and close to that the
English camp. We could see the enemy moving in great close square
masses. It was a terribly hot day; we had to lie in the trenches, as all
day long the enemy fired at us from the smaller positions facing us, at
a distance of 15,000 paces; and constantly the bombs burst over our
heads. At regular intervals a lyddite bomb--that gave us a shock through
our whole body--came from the wood towards the cannon on our left. Once
only part of our entrenchment, where, fortunately, no one happened to
be, was blown to bits.
Whenever there was a moment's pause, we lifted our heads above the
trenches to have a look at the lovely landscape and at the positions of
our enemy. That day not one of us was wounded. Only the artillery
suffered. If our few cannon ventured to make themselves heard, eight or
more bombs followed in quick succession to silence them. Next to me lay
a man whose servant, a restless, impatient Bushman, most amicably
addressed him as Johnny. The Bushman went to and fro continually to a
'chum' of his who lay hidden behind a rock close to us. Once, on one of
his visits to his 'chum,' a bullet struck the ground close to his
heels; he stood still, looked slowly and defiantly from his heels to
the enemy, and said in a most emphatic tone, 'You confounded
Englishman!' and calmly proceeded on his way to his chum.
To the right of this position was an open space, almost level with the
immediate surroundings, but ending in a steep decline some 900 paces
further on. There we went towards evening with a reinforcement of the
Pretoria town commando that had followed us. The Field-Cornet made us
stand in rows, and told off forty men to dig a trench that night. The
rest of the men would relieve us the following night. My brother and I
were in the first shift. Towards morning, while we were still digging at
the trenches, fire was opened across the whole line of battle. We
imagined that we were being attacked, and jammed ourselves in the narrow
trench. But as the attack did not come off, and the bullets flew high
over our heads, we went on digging until daybreak. Then we noticed that
the enemy were lying in a trench about 800 paces ahead of us. We fired a
few shots at them, but saved our ammunition for an eventual storming.
The whole of that day and the two succeeding days there was a constant
salvo over our heads. The bullets flew over our heads like finches, and
did us no harm, but we had to be on our guard against the sharpshooters,
who occasionally fired close to us. That day (January 24), the heroic
Battle of Spion Kop took place, where our burghers, after having been
surprised in the night by the enemy and driven off the kop, obliged
them, after a stubborn fight, to abandon it again. The Pretoria men, who
were to have relieved us in the trench, took a great part in that
battle. Reineke, Yeppe, Malherbe, De Villiers, and Olivier were killed.
Ihrige was severely wounded.
All day long we lay listening to the fighting, for we could not sleep.
We had to stay in the trench three days and four nights before we were
relieved. Water and food were brought to us, or fetched by our men at
night, as we did not venture to leave the trench by day. We were safe
enough, for the bombs had not much effect on the sand-walls of our
trench, and there was always time to stoop to avoid them. The following
morning news was brought to us that the enemy had abandoned the whole
line of battle and were retreating in the direction of Chieveley.
The battle of the Tugela had lasted eight days.
I had again hurt my knee, and had to leave Ladysmith for Pretoria, from
whence I went to Warmbad at Waterberg to stay for a few weeks with Mrs.
Klein-Frikkie Grobler, who received me most kindly. My brother Frits got
leave for the first time then, too, and Willem remained at Ladysmith.
During my absence the English broke through at Pieter's Heights, where
Willem was made prisoner and Lüttig, Malherbe and Stuart de Villiers
were killed. Meanwhile Frits had gone, with some other Pretoria men, to
the Orange Free State, where the enemy had surrounded General Cronje.
Since the beginning of the siege our burghers always thought the town
would fall soon. 'The khakies cannot hold out any longer! They have no
provisions, and their ammunition must be coming to an end! Buller can
never cross the Tugela, our positions are too good! What does it matter
if _I_ do go on leave? The khakies cannot get through!' That was the
opinion of most of the burghers. And if anyone ventured to point out
that the enemy _might_ force their way through because we did not all do
our duty, he was either not believed or looked upon as a traitor.
Meanwhile enthusiasm was dying out. The burghers lay in their lagers or
went home, trusting to the few willing ones, who ultimately proved not
strong enough to withstand the overwhelming force that Buller brought to
bear upon one point of our positions when he was obliged to force his
way through at no matter what cost.
No leave should have been given during the war, and here I may as well
mention--although this tale does not pretend to be a history of the
war--that it has been carried on with far too great laxity, owing to the
ignorance of our Generals and the demoralizing influence of
self-interest and nepotism. We should have sent our forces far into the
Cape Colony to get help from our brothers in a war that had been forced
upon us by England. The Colonial Afrikanders never had the opportunity
of standing by us, because we did not supply them with the necessary
ammunition or stretch out our hands towards them. Unless they had help
from our invading forces, they dared not risk a rising, because of the
confiscation of their property in case of failure.
We have had to suffer--to suffer cruelly for our sins. Our enemy forced
his way through the dyke that surrounded us, and like a stormy sea he
ruined our homes, devastated our fields, and caused us endless
suffering. Besides this, the talk of intervention had an enervating
effecton the commandos. In our commando, which was largely composed of
ignorant men, the strangest stories went round. One was that the
Russians had landed somewhere in South Africa with 100 cannon. There was
always talk of a great European War having broken out; and the
consequence was that the Boers counted on intervention or help from the
Powers, instead of depending on their own strength and perseverance. The
most sensible among us recognised the improbability of intervention. It
was not to the interest of any foreign Power to intervene in South
Africa where it had no firm footing, particularly as Chamberlain had, by
most cunning artifices, forced us to be the aggressors.
War was inevitable. Sooner or later it had to come. After the Jameson
Raid, which was really the beginning of the war, the Transvaal
Government recognised the dangerous position in which it stood, as an
isolated Republic, and was therefore obliged to arm itself with the most
modern of military equipments. Before the Jameson Raid race hatred was
dying out rapidly. The consequence of the raid was that the gap between
Boer and Englishman widened, the sympathy of the Uitlanders for us grew
deeper, and the Afrikander Bond grew stronger. England's prestige in
South Africa was threatened, and with it her rank as first Power in the
world. She had to maintain her supremacy in South Africa; while for us
it had become a question of all or nothing. England has evidently
succeeded in keeping up such friendly relations with the other Powers
that no intervention seems possible.
The relief of Ladysmith took place on February 28--a Majuba Day--a day
that had been marked as a red-letter day in our calendars. For nineteen
years the enemy have longed to wipe out the remembrance of that day, and
they have done so brilliantly and malignantly. Since that time we have
been humiliated and belittled. Our fall was great. For the first time
there was a general panic. The two Republics, being forced to venture on
war against a powerful kingdom, felt themselves staggering under the
heavy blow.
IV
DEWETSDRIFT--RETURN TO, AND FLIGHT FROM, PRETORIA
After the relief of Kimberley and Ladysmith we imagined that the
decisive battles would soon follow. Although my knee was not yet cured,
I went to Glencoe, whither our commandos had retreated. I was not five
days there when I had to leave, being unfit for active service. Again I
went to Warmbad for some weeks with Mr. Burgemeester Potgieter and his
family, and on my return to Pretoria remained in my office until the
beginning of May.
Meanwhile Frits had returned from the Free State, and my knee was cured.
We each bought ourselves a sturdy pony, and left, with some other
burghers, by train for Klerksdorp, from where we went on to Dewetsdrift,
on the Vaal River. General Viljoen was guarding the drift there with
some hundreds of burghers. We rode from there some four or five hours
into the Free State to spy the movements of the enemy.
From Dewetsdrift we went, under Commandant Boshoff, to Schoemansdrift,
Venterskroon, and Lindequidrift. Our division formed part of the escort
for the guns. Our route lay through beautiful scenery. The Vaal twists
and bends between two high mountains that curve on either side like the
roads the khaki makes with his double row of waggons over the hills of
the Hoogeveld. In every opening of the mountains lies a farm, a mean
little house, but among well-cultivated fields. In nearly every farm the
family was grieving for one of its members who had been taken prisoner
along with Cronje, and of whose fate they were in ignorance. The people
received us very kindly. Everywhere we got milk and biscuits, and we
found afterwards that those people were the kindest who had suffered the
most from the war.
As the enemy were already on their way to Johannesburg, we had to
retreat as rapidly as possible, first to Bank Station, near
Potchefstroom, and then by train to Langlaagte. To the north-west of
Johannesburg we had a skirmish with the enemy, who attacked us as we
were feeding our horses. It appeared that our guard was not on duty. I
have never seen horses saddled so quickly. Most of the burghers rode off
and left us behind with the guns. One ammunition waggon stuck in the
mud, and was left behind, but was brought in safety to Pretoria by Frans
Lottering, a comrade of mine, who rode back for it with some gunners
when we had fled. Lottering was given a sword by General de la Rey for
his brave conduct. Through negligence on the part of our officers we
lost on that occasion one gun, several waggons, and some of our men.
Almost all night long we retreated with our guns to Pretoria. We had not
lost courage. We all spoke of the thorough way in which our Government
would have fortified Pretoria, and of the great battle that would take
place there. We had all made up our minds to a stubborn resistance at
our capital. What a bitter disappointment it was to find that our
Government had decided not to defend the town! The causes that led to
such a decision will be brought to light by historians. The consequences
were that many of the burghers were discouraged, and rode 'huis-toe,'
and nothing came of the great battle that was to have been fought.
Frits and I decided to give our horses a few days' rest in their stables
before going to meet the enemy.
On June 4, at about twelve o'clock, while we were at luncheon, a lyddite
bomb fell close to the fort, raising a cloud of dust. My mother went
outside, and came back quickly to tell us that it was not a shot _from_
the fort, but from the enemy. The bombs followed in quick succession.
They flew over Schanskop fort, and fell close to our house at Sunnyside.
As the ground was rocky they exploded well. My mother and sister fled
with our neighbours to the town, and my brother and I saddled our horses
and rode off to Quaggaspoort.
From over the mountains, to the south of the town, the bombs came flying
as a gentle warning from the khakies that it would be better to
surrender in order to avoid a great calamity.
It was sad to see how few horses there were at the foot of the mountain.
Here a group of four, there of ten--a sign that the number of burghers
in the positions was very small indeed. When the enemy appeared at
Quaggaspoort, we noticed that the burghers from the direction of
Krokodil River were retreating, and a moment later they were all in full
flight. One of my comrades, a brother of Lottering, was wounded in the
arm by a shell as he fled, and had to remain behind in Pretoria. That
night my brother and I spent in our own home, but we left the town the
following morning in the direction of Silverton, just before the enemy
entered.
It would be well to try and understand the condition of our country and
the temper of our burghers.
As the capital was in the hands of the enemy, it was easy enough to
convince our simple-minded men that our country was irretrievably lost
to us. Therefore a period of discouragement and demoralization followed.
Many burghers, also, who had all along fought bravely now remained
behind in the towns or on their farms, not daring to leave their wives
and daughters at the mercy of the soldiers. We may not judge those men,
neither need we consider it to our credit that we, either from a sense
of duty or from a spirit of adventure, acted differently. There were
many also who argued that the Government was corrupt, and that the war
should have been prevented, or that the Boers did not want to fight. So
they also became unfaithful to the cause, and to those along with whom
they began the war. And the name of 'hands-upper' was earned by those
burghers who of their own free will surrendered to the enemy. The chaff
was divided from the grain; cowards and traitors remained behind, and
the willing ones went to the veld, even though it were in a retreating
direction. We were still very hopeful. There were still the good
positions in the Lydenberg district, and we had heard that De Wet had
cut the line of communication behind the enemy. We also still had an
intact line to Delagoa Bay.
My brother and I met our old comrade Frans Loitering, and the three of
us went in search of General Grobler of Waterberg, who lay with his
commando to the east of Pretoria at Franspoort, near Donkerhoek. There
we joined his commando. Our camp was put up near a Kaffir location, and
as the Kaffirs were clean, we often bought boiled sweet potatoes and
crushed maize from them.
Nothing particular happened at Franspoort. To the right and left of us
some desperate fighting went on for several days, and at Donkerhoek a
fierce battle took place, but we were not attacked.
When the news came that the enemy had broken through our lines at
Donkerhoek, and that we had to retreat, my brother and I left Grobler's
commando. Thinking that the commandos would fall back upon the positions
of Belfast, we went to Middelburg to an uncle of ours, the missionary
Jan Maré, in order to give our horses a rest. We had lost sight of our
comrade Frans. On our way we bought bread at the farms, or had it given
us, cut a piece off an ox that had been slaughtered for the commando,
and slept either in a manger or, as was more often the case, in the open
air of the cold Hoogeveld. We arrived at Middelburg completely
exhausted, and are not likely to forget our uncle's great hospitality.
We accidentally met our former Commandant, Boshoff, who told us that he
was on his way with ten men to join General de la Rey, who had gone in
the direction of Rustenburg to cut the enemy's line of communication
between Mafeking and Pretoria, and we very willingly joined him, after a
delightful rest of ten days.
The commando of Commandant Boshoff consisted of nine burghers with an
ambulance waggon--that was used for the commissariat and for our
bedding--a French doctor, two Kaffirs and two tents. It seemed as if we
were going for a picnic. But it was necessary that we should be well
provided with all sorts of things, as our journey would be through the
Boschland, where fever and horse-sickness play havoc with man and horse
in summer. In winter it is endurable for a few months only, so the
country is very scarcely populated and almost uncultivated, and in
winter the Boers trek there with their cattle from the bare, chill
Hoogeveld. I had always longed to see that part of the Transvaal.
V
TREK FROM MIDDELBURG TO RUSTENBURG--BATTLE OF SELIKATSNEK
Some hours north of Middelburg one suddenly leaves the high plateau of
the Boschveld for a difficult road that curves steadily downwards
between two high mountains until it reaches a wide, thickly-wooded
valley. In the kloof (mountain-pass) a swiftly-flowing river cuts the
road that goes along its banks, in several places, before it loses
itself in the Olifants River. There the song of many birds, not to be
found on the Hoogeveld, can be heard, and there it was delightfully
warm, in comparison with the chilly air of the Hoogeveld. Of an evening
we made large fires, as there was plenty of dry wood. We sat round the
fire, chatting or listening to the comic songs which one of our comrades
sang. It was a happy time--away from khaki, far beyond reach of the
roar of cannon--a time of rest in preparation for the evil days that
awaited us.
Everywhere we saw flocks of sheep and herds of cattle grazing among the
bushes--always a sign that we should find a waggon or two with tents
close to them, under the nearest trees. Sometimes, near a drift or a
good place to uitspan, quite a small lager had been formed of the trek
Boers, or, rather, of their wives, for the husbands and sons of many had
gone to the war. The Boers who fled with their cattle in that way we
called 'Bush-lancers.' We came up with De la Rey's lager near the Elands
River, and later on made the acquaintance of Captain Kirsten's scouts,
to whom we offered our services. In those days it was very pleasant to
belong to the reconnoitring corps. When we went to reconnoitre our
horses got plenty of forage on the farms, and as we were few in number
and always ahead of the lager, there were always eggs, bread, and milk
to be had. We had enough to do, also, as we had to keep a sharp
look-out, and we were in constant danger, but not at all afraid of the
patrols of khakies, which, being small in number and without their
guns, were pretty harmless. We advanced almost parallel to the Magalies
Mountains, that stretch from Pretoria to Rustenburg, until we came to
the neighbourhood of Selikatsnek. Unless one was well acquainted with
the highways and byways of that part of the country, one was in constant
danger of losing the way; it is a long stretch of bush, consisting of
the well-known thorn-bushes of the Hoogeveld, for a distance of about
ten miles deep. The principal passes of the Magalies Mountains were
occupied by the enemy--Wonderboompoort, Hornsnek, Selikatsnek,
Commandonek, Olifantsnek. General de la Rey had made up his mind to take
Selikatsnek, and on July 11 he succeeded, by his strong will and
military talent.
While we were reconnoitring with Captain Kirsten's party we got the news
that De la Rey had attacked Selikatsnek--about an hour's ride from where
we were--and that the battle was still going on. We all rode to the
scene of action, but my brother and I, with a few other men, remained
behind to wait for Captain Kirsten, who was absent at the time. As soon
as he arrived we rode off, and arrived at Selikatsnek at about nine
o'clock. Our burghers had already taken two of the enemy's guns.
Selikatsnek (or Moselikatsnek) is a narrow opening in the Magalies
Mountains, with high shoulders on either side, that slope gradually to a
white kopje in the centre. If an attacking party once occupies the
shoulders, it can easily keep the enemy on the kopje or on the two
slopes. When we arrived our burghers already occupied the principal
positions--both shoulders and the smaller positions to the front of the
kopje. The enemy had been obliged to draw in their clipped wings, and to
concentrate on and in the neighbourhood of the white kopje.
But as the shoulders of the pass were very steep on the other side, our
men could not surround the enemy or attack them in the rear; and as
there was not sufficient cover for them to go down the slope without
great loss, in order to drive the enemy by force from their positions,
the burghers remained 'rock-fast' in their positions, and made no
progress at all. Thus, the enemy would either get reinforcements from
Pretoria or escape when it got dark. Both our flanks kept up a constant
fire on the slopes, and on the white kopje, but the shoulders were too
high for a proper aim, and the khakies lay fast behind the boulders and
in the clefts of the rocks.