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[Illustration: GENERAL P.H. KRITZINGER.
_Photo by Emberon, London._]
In the Shadow of Death
BY
GENERAL P.H. KRITZINGER
AND
MR. R.D. MCDONALD
ILLUSTRATED WITH PORTRAITS AND DIAGRAMS
PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION 1904
LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, DUKE STREET,
STAMFORD STREET, S.E., AND GREAT WINDMILL STREET, W.
Preface.
Several excellent works have already been written about the Anglo-Boer
War of the beginning of the twentieth century; but the field of
operations was so extensive, the duration of the war so long, and the
leaders, on the Boer side, were necessarily so independent of one
another in the operations that were conducted with one common aim, that
something of interest may well remain to be said. We have not here
chronicled our experiences and adventures in the form of a diary, but
have rather grouped together events and observations. We write as Boers,
frankly regretting the loss of that independence for which we took the
field; but also as those who wish to give no offence to any honourable
opponent. Our aim has been to do equal justice to both sides in the war;
to unite and reconcile, not to separate and embitter, two Christian
peoples destined to live together in one land.
"In the Shadow of Death" is a title the reader will hardly consider
inappropriate by the time he reaches the end of this little book.
Outnumbered on the battlefield, often exposed to the enemy's fire, and
one of us wounded and laid low on a bed of intense suffering, and then
charged before a Military Court with the greatest of crimes, we did not
dare to hope that we should live to write these pages.
And here let our cordial thanks be given to Advocate F.G. Gardiner for
his inestimable services in the hour of need, and for kindly submitting
to us the "papers" bearing on the trial.
P.H. KRITZINGER.
R.D. MCDONALD.
Contents.
CHAP. PAGE
PREFACE iii
I. ANTECEDENTS 1
II. DARK DAYS 5
III. ENGAGEMENTS 21
IV. IN TIGHT CORNERS 43
V. TO THE CAPE COLONY 56
VI. WOUNDED 70
VII. COURT-MARTIALLED 81
VIII. WHY WE SURRENDERED 102
IX. THE BOER AS SEEN IN THE LIGHT OF THE WAR 118
X. THE RISING IN THE CAPE COLONY 149
XI. WAR INCIDENTS 170
"In the Shadow of Death."
CHAPTER I.
ANTECEDENTS.
The child is father to the man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
_Wordsworth._
A few preliminary pages of personal history I offer to those who
followed me either in thought or deed during the Anglo-Boer War.
My ancestors were Germans; my grandfather was born in the South. About
the year 1820 he, along with two brothers, bade farewell to the land of
his nativity and emigrated to South Africa. They found a home for
themselves in the neighbourhood of Port Elizabeth, and there they
settled as farmers. Two of the brothers married women of Dutch
extraction; one died a bachelor. A small village, Humansdorp, situated
near to Port Elizabeth, was the birth-place of my father. There he spent
the greater part of his life. He, too, married a Dutch lady; and we
children adopted the language of our mother, and spoke Dutch rather than
German.
My father took an active part in several of the early Kaffir Wars, and
rendered assistance to the Colonial forces in subjugating the native
tribes in the Eastern Province of the Cape Colony. With rapt attention
and enthusiasm we children would listen to him as he told the tale of
those early native wars. I then thought that there was nothing so
sublime and glorious as war. My imagination was inflamed, and I longed
intensely to participate in such exciting adventures. My experience of
recent years has corrected my views. I think differently now. Peace is
better than war. War is brutal and damnable. It is indeed "hell let
loose."
On the 20th of April, 1870, the arrival of a little Kritzinger was
announced on the farm Wildeman's-Kraal, Port Elizabeth District. That
little fellow happened to be myself. I do not recollect much of the days
of my youth--save that I was of a very lively disposition, with a
fondness for all sorts of fun, and often of mischief, which landed me
occasionally in great trouble. My parents obeyed the injunctions of Holy
Writ in diligently applying the rod when they thought it necessary. As a
child, I could but dimly understand, and scarcely believe, that love was
at the root of every chastisement.
At the age of five I met with a serious accident. While gathering shells
on the beach at Port Elizabeth, the receding waves drew me seaward with
irresistible power. But for the pluck and courage of my little
playfellow, a lassie of some twelve summers, I was lost. She came to the
rescue. I was saved at the last moment: a few seconds more and I must
have perished in the deep.
In 1882 my parents, leaving Cape Colony in search of a new home in the
Orange Free State, settled down in the district of Ladybrand. It was,
however, decided that I should remain behind with an uncle. This uncle
was my godfather, and had promised to provide for my education. Having
no children, he made me his adopted son. However excellent these
arrangements might be, I resolved that I too should go to the Orange
Free State. I succeeded in persuading my brother, who had charge of the
waggons, to let me follow him on horseback under cover of darkness. I
left my uncle's home alone and at dusk on the third evening after my
brother's departure. How I felt, and in what condition I was, after
riding thirty-five miles on the bare back of a horse, I shall not
describe. My parents, who had gone ahead of the waggons, were not a
little astonished, and yet they were not angry, at the unexpected
appearance of the boy that was left behind.
On my arrival in the Free State it so happened that there was then a
dispute as to headship between two Barolong chiefs. This quarrel called
forth the intervention of the Free State Government. The burghers were
commandoed in the event of resistance on the part of the native chiefs;
and I, though a mere boy, at once offered my services to the nearest
Field Cornet. He declined to accept them on the score that I was too
young. Like David, I was loth to go back home. I borrowed an old gun,
got a horse, and off I stole to the Boer commando. The dispute was
amicably settled. Some thirty Barolongs, however, offered resistance.
Most eagerly I thus fired my first shot upon a human being. I did not
know then that it would not be the last; that I should live to hear the
mountains and hills of South Africa reverberate with the sound of
exploding shells, that the whizz of bullets would assail my ears like
the humming of bees; that a bullet would penetrate my own lungs, leaving
me a mass of bleeding clay on the battle-field. I did not know that
South Africa's plains would yet be drenched with the blood of Boer and
Briton until the very rivers ran crimson.
At the early age of seventeen I left the parental roof to earn for
myself an independent living. I went to the district of Rouxville, where
I occupied a farm situated on the Basutoland border. Several of the
Basuto chiefs I got to know well. They allowed me to purchase all I
desired from their subjects. Occupied thus with my private affairs while
years sped by, I unconsciously drifted on to the disastrous war.
My mind was never absorbed nor disturbed by the many political
controversies and problems of South Africa, not that I was indifferent
to the welfare of my people and country, for, once war was declared by
the leaders, my services were ready. I attached myself to the Rouxville
Commando, under Commandant J. Olivier, as a private burgher. When
Prinsloo surrendered, late in 1900, I was appointed Assistant-Commandant
over that portion of the Rouxville Commando which had refused to lay
down arms on Prinsloo's authority. This was my first commission in the
Boer Army. On more than one occasion I had been requested to accept
appointments; but, realising the great responsibility involved in
leadership, I preferred to fight as a private. But events pushed onward;
and on the 26th of August, 1900, when Commandant Olivier made an
unsuccessful attack on Winburg, which resulted in his capture, I was
elected in his stead, and so became Commandant of the Rouxville
Commando.
On December 16th, 1900, carrying out instructions of General De Wet, I
crossed the Orange River at a point near Odendaal's Stroom, with about
270 burghers. General De Wet was to follow me, but he was prevented. The
enemy, determined to drive me back or effect my capture, concentrated
numerous forces on my small commando. For months I was dreadfully
harassed, and had no rest day or night. But I was resolved neither to
retrace my steps nor to capitulate. How I escaped from time to time I
now tell. The Cape Colonist Boers began to come in, and my forces
increased rather than decreased. The burghers I had at my disposal I
subdivided into smaller commandos, to give employment to the enemy, so
that they could not concentrate all their forces on me. Thus, as the
Colonists rose in arms, the commandos began to multiply more and more,
until it was impossible for the British forces to expel the invaders
from the Cape Colony.
At the beginning of August, 1901, General French once more fixed his
attention on me. I was hard pressed by large forces, and had to fall
back on the Orange Free State, where I then operated till the 15th of
December. Again, and now for the last time, I forded the Orange River at
midnight, and set foot on British territory. The following day I was
wounded while crossing the railway line near Hanover Road. For about a
month I was laid up in the British hospital at Naauwpoort, whence I was
removed to Graaf Reinet gaol, and there I was confined as a criminal
until the 10th of March, 1902, when after a five days' trial for murder
I was acquitted. After my acquittal I was advanced to the honour (?) of
P.O.W. (Prisoner of War), and so remained till the cessation of
hostilities.