I Fail to Enter Cape Colony
The enemy gave us plenty of time in which to effect our escape, and by
nightfall we had abandoned our positions at Platkop. Taking with us the
prisoners of war (whom I intended to set free on the far side of the
Orange River), we marched towards Vaalbank, arriving there on the
following morning. That day the English attacked us unawares. While I
was at Dewetsdorp, Captain Pretorius had come up to give me a report of
his recent doings. I had sent him, two months previously, from the
district of Heilbron to Fauresmith and Philippolis, in order to fetch
two or three hundred horses from those districts; he had told me that he
had brought the horses, and that they were with his 200 men at
Droogfontein.
It was about eight o'clock in the morning after our night march that our
outpost at Vaalbank saw a mounted commando riding from Beijersberg in
the direction of Reddersburg. I was at once informed of this, but as I
was expecting Pretorius from that direction, I merely said: "It is sure
to be Captain Pretorius."
"No; this is an _English_ commando."
English or Australian--it made very little matter--they were enemies.
I had no need to give the order to off-saddle, the burghers did it at
once of their own accord. But before we were ready for him, the enemy
opened fire on us from the very ridge on which our outpost had been
stationed.
Off went the burghers, and I made no effort to stop them, for the spot
where we were did not command a good view of the surrounding country,
and I already had my eye on some ridges, about half an hour's ride away.
There we should be able to reconnoitre, especially towards Dewetsdorp,
whence I expected the enemy at any moment. During the retreat
Veldtcornet de Wet was severely wounded. Moreover, some of our horses
had to be left behind, being too exhausted to go any further.
We marched on towards Bethulie. When in the neighbourhood of this town,
and of the farm of "Klein Bloemfontein," I fell in with General Piet
Fourie and Captain Scheepers, and took them with me. While on this farm
I set free the Kaffirs whom I had taken prisoner at Dewetsdorp; they
pretended they had not been fighting, but were only waggon-drivers. I
gave them a pass to go into Basutoland.
We then proceeded towards Karmel, and just as we were approaching the
farm of "Good Hope," we caught sight of an English column which had come
from Bethulie, and was making for Smithfield. I at once opened fire upon
them from two sides, but they were in such good positions that we failed
that day to drive them out. On the morrow, early in the morning, the
fight began afresh.
About four o'clock in the afternoon General Charles Knox, with a large
reinforcement, arrived from Smithfield, and we had once more to retire.
It was here that I sustained a loss upon my staff--my nephew, Johannes
Jacobus de Wet. It was sad to think that I should never again see
Johannes--so brave and cheerful as he had always been. His death was a
great shock to me.
Our only other casualties were four burghers wounded, whereas the enemy,
unless I am much mistaken, must have lost heavily.
Whilst this fight was in progress General Hertzog joined me. We arranged
that he should with all speed make an inroad into Cape Colony, between
the Norvalspont and Hopetown railway bridges, and that I should do the
same between the railway bridges at Bethulie and Aliwal North. He was to
operate in the north-western part of the country, I in the eastern and
midland parts.
That night we continued our march towards Karmel, under a heavy downpour
of rain. Next morning it was still raining when we started to continue
our march; later on in the day we off-saddled for a short time and then
went on again, so as to be able to cross the Caledon River before it
became impossible to do so. I can assure you that it rained so hard
while we were fording the Caledon, that, as the Boers say, "It was
enough to kill the big devils and cut off the legs of the little ones."
We then marched on--still through heavy rain.
Commandant Truter, who was in command of the rear-guard, had left a
Krupp and an ammunition waggon behind. I was not at all pleased about
this, but, as we had not a single round of Krupp ammunition left, the
gun would only have hampered us.
That evening we reached the Orange River, at a point some three miles to
the north of Odendaalsstroom, but, alas! what a sight met our eyes! The
river was quite impassable owing to the floods, and, in addition, the
ford was held by English troops stationed on the south bank.
Our position was beginning to be critical, for there was an English
garrison at Aliwal North, so that I could not cross the Orange River by
the bridge there. It was also highly probable that the Caledon would be
in flood, and I knew that General Charles Knox had left a division of
his troops at Smithfield--they would be sure to be holding the bridge
over the Caledon at Commissiedrift. Moreover, Jammerbergsdrift, near
Wepener, was doubtless well guarded, so that there, too, I would have no
chance of crossing the river. There was still Basutoland, but we did not
wish to cross its borders--we were on good terms with the Basutos and
we could not afford to make enemies of them. Surely we had enough
enemies already!
To make the best of a bad job I sent Commandant Kritzinger[76] and
Captain Scheepers, with their three hundred men, to march in the
direction of Rouxville with orders that as soon as the Orange River
became fordable, they were to cross it into Cape Colony without delay. I
entertained no doubt that they would succeed.
Everything is as it must be, and unless one is a sluggard--who brings
trouble upon himself by doing nothing to avoid it--one has no reason to
complain.
Such were my thoughts as I contemplated our situation.
The Orange River was in flood--the Government and I, therefore, could
not possibly remain where we were for long. The English were so fond of
us that they would be sure to be paying us a visit! No, to wait there
until the river was fordable was not to be thought of.
The reader will now perceive how it was that my projected inroad into
Cape Colony did not become a fact. My dear old friend, General Charles
Knox, was against it, and he had the best of the argument, for the river
was unfordable. What then was I to do? Retreat I could not, for the
Caledon also was now full. Again, as I have already explained, it would
not do for me to take refuge in Basutoland. But even that would be
better than to attempt to hold out where I was--in a narrow belt of
country between two rivers in flood--against the overpowering force
which was at General Knox's disposal, and which in ten or twelve days
would increase tenfold, by reinforcements from all parts of the country.
I knew that the Orange and the Caledon Rivers sometimes remained
unfordable for weeks together. How could I then escape?--Oh, the English
had caught me at last! They hemmed me in on every side; I could not get
away from them. In fact they had "cornered" me, to use one of their own
favourite expressions. That they also thought so appears from what I
read afterwards in the _South African News_, where I saw that Lord
Kitchener had given orders to General Charles Knox "not to take any
prisoners there!" For the truth of this I cannot positively vouch; but
it was a very suspicious circumstance that Mr. Cartwright, the editor of
the newspaper to which I have referred, was afterwards thrown into
prison for having published this very anecdote about Lord Kitchener.
Our prospects were then by no means bright; I knew very well that those
trusty counsellors of the English--the National Scouts--would have
advised their masters to seize the bridges and thus make escape
impossible for Steyn and De Wet.
Without delay I proceeded to the Commissiedrift bridge over the Caledon.
As I feared, it was occupied by the enemy. Entrenchments had been dug,
and _schanzes_ thrown up at both ends.
Foiled here, I at once sent a man down to the river to see if it was
still rising. It might be the case that there had not been so much rain
higher up. The man whom I had sent soon returned, reporting that the
river was falling, and would be fordable by the evening. This was good
news indeed.
On the other hand, our horses were exhausted. They had now for three
days been obliged to plough their way through the wet, muddy paths. We
had no forage to give them, and the grass was so young as yet that it
did not seem to strengthen them at all.
Nevertheless, we had to be off. And there was but one road open to
us--we must somehow get across the Orange River and thus obtain
elbow-room. Accordingly we returned to make for Zevenfontein, a ford ten
or twelve miles further up the river. If it were not already in the
enemy's hands, we would surely be able to get across there. Shortly
before sunset, on the 8th of December, we arrived at Zevenfontein. To
our immense joy, it was unoccupied and fordable.
I at once marched towards Dewetsdorp, intending, if only General Knox
and his huge force would give me the chance, to rest my horses, and then
make another attempt to enter Cape Colony.
But it was not to be.
The English were afraid that if President Steyn and I were in Cape
Colony their troubles would be doubled. General Knox therefore
concentrated all his available forces in order to drive us northwards.
It was disappointing, but there was a bright side to it. If the English
were pursuing me, they would have to leave Commandant Kritzinger and
Captain Scheepers, who would thus be able to cross the Orange River.
These two officers, however, were not left entirely in peace. While they
rested for a time near Zastron, in order to give their horses a chance
of recovering their strength, there came a division of Brabant's Horse
to pay them a visit. The result was that about sixty of the visitors
were wounded or taken prisoner, while the rest found it as much as they
could do to get back to Aliwal North, whence they had started.
Commandant Kritzinger and Captain Scheepers had then another opportunity
for rest until the day should come when they could make an inroad into
Cape Colony according to my instructions.
Although, as I have already said, the English were passionately devoted
to President Steyn and myself, I was deprived of their endearments for
the space of two whole days, during which I was at Wilgeboomspruit. Here
I was joined by Commandant Hasebroek with his commando, and all of
us--horses as well as men--enjoyed a little rest. But very soon General
Knox was again at our heels, and, to escape him, I marched west in the
direction of Edenburg, hoping at last to be able to get into Cape
Colony. Not only were the forces of General Knox _behind_ us, but, when
we arrived at the farm of "Hexrivier," and thus were within two hours'
march of Edenburg, I heard from my scouts, whom I had sent on in
advance, that there was a great English column in _front_ of us at that
town.
In the evening, therefore, I turned off towards the east, and marched in
the direction of Wepener.
The following morning the enemy was again on our track; but, as we had
covered twenty miles during the night, we were so far ahead that it was
unnecessary for us to move very fast during that and the following day.
At mid-day, the 13th of December, we took up excellent positions--placed
in a line of about eight miles from end to end--on the farm called
"Rietfontein," which is in the district of Wepener, north-east of
Daspoort. We were so strongly posted that the enemy had to halt and wait
for the arrival of the rearguard. I had calculated on this, and knew
that darkness would come to our aid before the English were ready to
attack us. But in front of us there was a strong line of forts,
extending from Bloemfontein through Thaba'Nchu and Springhaansnek, to
Ladybrand. Through this line we should have to fight our way; this would
be difficult enough, and it would never do to have General Knox at our
heels, to increase the difficulty. Our only plan, then, was to make a
long night march, and thus to get well out of the way.
Accordingly, I gave orders to the men to hold their positions until
dark, and to let the enemy see that they were doing so. I had even had
_schanzes_ built, so as to impress them with the idea that I intended to
attack them the following day if they advanced towards my positions. And
just before the night came on, I ordered the burghers to show themselves
from behind all our _schanzes_.
Then night fell, and I at once gave orders to march off.
The burghers could not understand this, and began to grumble about
it--what could their General mean? Why this sudden change in his plans?
I said nothing, but thought to myself, "You shall know why to-morrow."
We marched directly towards Springhaansnek. It was very slow work, for
many of the burghers' horses were so weak that their owners had to go on
foot. General Philip Botha and I were with the rearguard, and did not
expect to reach the line of forts until ten o'clock on the following
morning.
We had not advanced very far before we were joined by Commandant Michal
Prinsloo, who had with him three hundred of the Bethlehem burghers. He
had come down from Springhaansnek, and as his horses were in good
condition I ordered him to go in advance of us, to pass through
Springhaansnek, and then to occupy positions to the north of the lines
of forts and east of Thaba'Nchu.
My object in making this arrangement was that when on the following
morning we were crossing the mountains, he might be able to hinder the
enemy at Thaba'Nchu from either checking our advance, or sending
reinforcements to the Springhaansnek forts.
And in point of fact, Prinsloo's commando proved to be our salvation;
for the English, from their high position at Thaba'Nchu, spied us as
soon as day broke, and indeed sent troops to reinforce the point for
which we were making. But Prinsloo succeeded in holding them in check,
so that when we arrived at Springhaansnek we had to fight against strong
positions, but against nothing else--but I must not anticipate.
Before it began to be light on the morning of the 14th of December,
Commandant Prinsloo passed through the enemy's lines between the forts.
The English fired upon him, but he did not turn back. Then a small
outpost of the enemy, which lay half-way between the forts, made an
attempt to turn the oncoming burghers by shooting at them from the
front. The Commandant only gave strict orders that the men must force
their way through. The consequence was that two of the enemy, who did
not get out of the way in time, were literally ridden over. The burghers
thought that these two unfortunate men had been trodden to death by the
horses, but it was not likely that any of them would dismount to see if
this were actually the case.
As I have already said, General Botha and I were in the rearguard. We
knew, however, that Vice-Commandant-in-Chief Piet Fourie--a man whom
nothing on earth would stop, if he had once made up his mind--was
leading the van, and that he was supported by Veldtcornet Johannes
Hattingh, who was as resolute and undaunted as his chief.
Fourie did not wait for us to catch him up, but at once went down the
mountain side. When we saw this, General Botha and I rode with all speed
ahead, telling the burghers to come on more gently with their weary
horses. I did not fear thus to leave them behind, because I knew that
General Knox was still a long way in the rear.
Just as General Fourie, leading the first storming-party, had passed
between the forts, we came up with him, our burghers still straggling on
behind us. As soon as we had crossed over the first piece of rising
ground, I halted my men, and ordered them to leave their horses out of
sight of the enemy, and to return to the brow of the hill, so as to be
able to fire into the forts on the right and left hand, which were from
eight hundred to nine hundred paces from us. From this hill we kept up
as fierce a fire as we could, and this to a great extent prevented the
enemy in those forts from firing on our burghers who were still coming
on in a long train.
It is necessary, in order that the reader may understand the task which
we had set ourselves to accomplish, to say a few words about
Springhaansnek. At either side of the way by which we must pass, there
were two strong forts, at a distance of from a thousand to twelve
hundred paces from each other. In the space between them there was
absolutely no cover; and the distance from the point where the burghers
were first visible to the men in these forts, to the point where they
again disappeared from view, was at least three thousand paces.
Over these terrible three thousand paces our burghers raced, while a
storm of bullets was poured in upon them from both sides. And of all
that force--eight thousand strong--no single man was killed, and only
one was wounded!
Our marvellous escape can only be described to the providence and
irresistible protection of Almighty God, who kept His hand graciously
over us.
What the enemy's loss was I never heard.
In addition to the burghers, a few carts and waggons, as well as one of
the two guns which had been taken at Dewetsdorp, got safely through the
English lines. The other gun was left behind by the sergeant of the
artillery, before he reached the fighting line. He sent the horses of
the gun-carriage with the gunners, back to Commandant Hasel, who
subsequently followed us to Ijzernek, to the west of Thaba'Nchu.
My ambulance with Dr. Fourie and Dr. Poutsma, were stopped by the
English. Dr. Fourie had, as was quite proper, remained outside the
fighting line, with the intention of coming through afterwards. This he
was permitted to do on the following day. He brought me a message from
General Knox to the effect that Commandant Hasebroek had lost heavily in
an engagement with Colonel White, who had marched out from Thaba'Nchu.
But I had already received information that the Commandant had got
through the enemy's lines unhurt, and that on the contrary it was he who
had killed some of Colonel White's men, while they were attacking him.
We decided to retreat still further, in order to reach a place of safety
where we might rest our horses, in preparation for that long dash into
Cape Colony, which I still intended to carry out on the first
opportunity. I felt sure, however, that my commandos would be allowed
no rest by the enemy as long as the President and I were with them.
Accordingly I planned that as soon as we got to the north of Winburg he
and I should absent ourselves from the commandos for some time, while I
proceeded to arrange certain matters (to be set down in a later chapter)
by which I hoped to effectually "settle"[77] the English.
On our arrival at a certain farm to the south of Senekal we discovered
that General Knox was once more at our heels. We had several small
engagements with him, in one of which a son of Commandant Truter, of
Harrismith, was killed.
On the afternoon of Christmas Day, 1900, we left the farm, and rode on
to the Tafelkop, nine miles to the west of Senekal.
[Footnote 76: He was subsequently appointed Vice-Commander-in-Chief in
Cape Colony.]
[Footnote 77: In the original a Kaffir word is used here. The literal
meaning of the phrase is "to throw the knuckle bones"--the Kaffir
equivalent for dice.]