A Woman’s Wanderings and Trials during the Anglo-Boer War
TWO GREAT SOUTH AFRICAN BOOKS
THE MEMOIRS OF PAUL KRUGER, =Four Times President of the South African
Republic=. Told by HIMSELF. Translated by A. Teixeira de Mattos. With
Portraits. Two Volumes. Demy 8vo, cloth gilt, 32s.
THE ANGLO-BOER WAR. Edited by Commandant BRESLER. With Introductory
Chapters by Generals De Wet, Kritzinger, Fouché, Jean Joubert, and the
Rev. J. D. Kestell. Demy 8vo, cloth. With 30 Maps. 21s.
LONDON: T. FISHER UNWIN
[Illustration: The Wanderers.]
A
WOMAN’S WANDERINGS
AND TRIALS
DURING THE
Anglo-Boer War
BY
MRS (GENERAL) DE LA REY
TRANSLATED BY LUCY HOTZ
_ILLUSTRATED_
LONDON
T. FISHER UNWIN
PATERNOSTER SQUARE
MDCDIII
_All Rights reserved_
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
THE WANDERERS _Frontispiece_
PAGE
GENERAL DE LA REY AND HIS STAFF 17
MRS DE LA REY BESIDE HER WAGGON 36
“THE PICTURE OF MY WANDERING LIFE” 63
“OUR PEOPLE” 96
MESDAMES FERREIRA AND BEZUIDENHOUT 134
FOUR OF MRS DE LA REY’S CHILDREN, WITH TWO LITTLE GIRL FRIENDS 137
THREE OF MRS DE LA REY’S CHILDREN 139
A Woman’s Wanderings and Trials during the Anglo-Boer War
On the 4th of October 1899 my husband left for the western border. I
wondered what would be the outcome for me, and I thought of the many
now leaving, some of whom might never come back. After a short time
my husband returned and spent one day at home, then he left again on
commando.
A few days later I went to pay him a visit. I found that all was going
well, and I met many friends, for the laager was a very big one.
I was in good spirits, but the same day came the order to move to
Kraaipan with 1200 men. This was not very pleasant news for me.
All was soon ready for the start. It was a lovely evening, the moon
shone brightly, and the 1200 horsemen rode out, the cannon clattering
as they went.
I had to spend the night in the laager. Next morning I went home to
wait there anxiously for what was to happen. That day I heard nothing.
Next day there was a report that some prisoners of war had been brought
by train to Kraaipan, and no one on our side was hurt in this first
fight. A day or two later I returned to the laager, which had been
moved some distance farther back.
There I found all of good cheer and courage. The same day an order came
to trek for Kimberley, and I went on for two days with the laager, in
which were many odd sights. When I had to return I felt it hard that
all my people must go so far away. That afternoon it had been warm near
the waggon, and my dear son had taken on himself to prepare our dinner.
We ate it there all together, and Field-Cornet H. Coetzee, who was with
us, said he must learn from my son how to make such good things to eat.
My son had done it very well, though it was the first time that he had
ever tried to act as cook.
We then took up our journey again. It was curious to me to see so many
horsemen. That night I had to return; my husband came a little way with
me and the laager trekked on.
I had now to take leave of my two sons, who were going with the laager.
My heart was torn, for I did not know if I should see them again.
But time was passing; they had to go on, and I to go back; the waggons
must be inspanned and the horses saddled.
Then I said to my two sons, “Adrian and Jacobus, let your ways be in
the fear of the Lord. If I do not see you again upon earth, let me find
you again in heaven.” And my beloved Adrian, when I said these words,
looked at me.
We went to spend the night at Mr Du Toit’s house, where we had a
welcome rest. Next morning my husband went back to the laager and
I returned home, where I found all well. We kept hearing always
of fighting. The commando trekked to Freiburg, and from there to
Kimberley. I had a telegram saying that my husband had gone to the
Modder River, and I thought of the dangerous work that he had to do.
Then he had to go farther and farther away. News came of the fight
at Rooilaagte; it was terrible to hear how many “khakis” had been
there and how hard our men had had to fight. There were many from the
Lichtenburg district among them, so that everyone was anxious.
Sunday, the 26th of December, was the nineteenth birthday of my son
Adrian Johannes. When I went to the village in the morning I met my
sisters on their way to church. Then we all began to speak of him and
of how he would fare on his birthday; and we all grew heavy-hearted.
On Monday we were without news. On Tuesday evening a telegram came that
all was well, which filled me with joy. Yet that night I sat on my bed,
and could not sleep for anxiety and sorrow till I had earnestly begged
of the Lord to make me fit to bear the burden He should lay upon me,
and to let me sleep.
Early next morning I was awake, but the same feeling remained. I got
out of bed quickly and then saw it was going to rain. On going out it
felt pleasant after the rain. Suddenly someone cried out, “There is
Juffrouw Martens.” She came from the village, and my first words were,
“What am I going to hear?” She came through the house and met me in the
backyard with these words, “Nonne,[1] I have sorrowful tidings. Your
husband has sent me a telegram for you, and it says, ‘This morning our
dearly-beloved son Adrian passed away in my arms from a wound received
yesterday in a heavy fight, and to-day we shall lay him in the ground
at Jacobsdaal.’”
[1] _Nonne._ A Dutch-Indian term meaning Mrs or mistress.
It was heartrending for me, but there is comfort to be found at the
feet of Jesus. All Lichtenburg knew him and loved him. I had not only
lost my son, but many had lost their friend.
The Sunday after he died, Dominie Du Toit of Lichtenburg chose as his
text Revelations xxi., verse 7:--“And I will be his God, and he shall
be my son”--and he said that the Lord had more need of him than we.
“_I give him to the goodness of God.
Ransomed by the Saviour
He rises towards Heaven.
All shall contemplate him there
On the beautiful borders of Heaven
By the crystal waters._
“_Yes, my son is gone away
Over the crystal waters.
Saviour, wilt thou receive him
At Thy side for evermore?
Take this son, unto Thee he is given,
Take him in Thy Father’s house;
Some day we shall find each other
Among the jubilant host._
“_God said, This son is mine,
Zealous in the work of the Lord.
Barely the space of nineteen years
Did he spend as man upon earth.
Some day I also shall come there
To reign by my Saviour’s might
Unto the last generation.
Thou, my son, naught can harm thee,
Thou hadst to die for the right._
“_The Lord is trusty and strong,
E’er long shall He in His might,
Watching the deeds of His people,
Teach them to understand.
Rest on thou Afrikander son;
We shall all one day stand before Jesus,
Zealous in the work of the Lord._”
A fortnight after my son’s death I went to join his father and brother.
After travelling four days I came near the Vaal River. That morning
we heard a terrible roar of cannon; a great fight was taking place
at Maggersfontein. I thought then, “Whose turn shall it be to-day to
give up his life?” When I came to the laager they had already come
out to meet me, but we missed each other. Just then I met my brother,
Jan Greef, and as I had heard nothing more about the death of my son
I asked him to tell me everything. He told me what a great fight it
had been all day, and how my son had been all day in the thick of the
fighting and no hurt had come to him. At sunset he was walking with
his father; suddenly a bomb burst between them. He asked his father if
the bomb had touched him and his father answered “No.” He said nothing
more, but went on 150 steps farther before he sat down, saying to his
father, “The bomb that burst over there struck me.” Then they saw that
a bullet had entered his right side. They carried him a little way,
and placed him in a carriage to bring him to the hospital. At four
o’clock in the morning they reached Jacobsdaal; they bore him into the
hospital, and the doctor said he would come and take the bullet out
after breakfast.
All night he had tasted only a little water; now they brought him some
coffee. He told his father that he must help him to take it; his father
raised him up in bed and he saw that he was near death. He asked him if
he did not want to say anything. His answer was, “Nay, father, only lay
me down.” With these words he drew his last breath. All was over with
our son. This I heard from my brother.
Then my husband returned, and I heard for the first time how he too had
been wounded in the arm, and how very ill he also had been before I
arrived.
From there we went to Maggersfontein and then to the village of
Jacobsdaal. I had so longed to see my son’s grave, but when I came
there I found only a mound of earth. Yet, knowing that his dust was
resting there, it did me good to see it.
Then I went to the hospital. I thought, “If only I could find the
clothes which he was wearing the last day!” They brought me to the
room where the clothes of the dead were lying. His father found the
trousers. We could tell them by the hole that the bullet had made.
I saw the nurse who had looked after him; she said how patient and
contented he had been.
There were many of our wounded lying there.
I went back to Maggersfontein. A little way from it was an empty house;
I went into it as I did not wish to live in the laager. Every morning
we could hear the firing at Maggersfontein.
Christmas was drawing near. From all sides people sent us dainties and
anything that they thought would give us pleasure. I used often to go
to General Cronje’s laager.
In the beginning of the new year 1900 General De la Rey had to retire
to Colesberg. I went with him to Bloemfontein, and the evening we
arrived there he had to go on to Colesberg. I went back home, where I
found our children safe and well.
Every day we kept hearing of battles. I went on with my work on the
farm, and that made the time pass less slowly. Two months later I went
to Kroonstad and found my husband there. All the week he had not been
well, but he got better quickly and started anew on commando.
I went home again, and had not been there long when General De la Rey
was sent to Mafeking; but while on his way the siege of Mafeking was
raised.
Then all the commandoes were ordered to Pretoria. My husband came home
on the 23rd of May, and on the 25th of May the march to Pretoria began.
That was a hurried trek, for the enemy were in great force.
We did not know now what their next movements would be, so the best
thing for me to do was to wait for the coming of the enemy.
Five days after the Boers had left the district the Kaffirs came in
such numbers that they stripped the whole border of cattle, and acted
abominably towards the women and children.
A week after the Boers left Lichtenburg the troops[2] entered the
village. I was then on my farm, which lies a quarter-of-an-hour’s
distance outside.
[2] _Troops._--When an Afrikander speaks of “troops” he always means
those of the English, probably from having heard so much about
“troopers.”
Seven horsemen came to my house. I was then in the garden, but on
seeing them I hastened to the house. Four armed men stood outside; the
other three had come in and were turning everything upside down.
When I was at the door one of them came towards me with the question,
“Whose place is this?”
I answered, “De la Rey’s.”
“The General’s?” he asked.
I said, “Yes.”
Then he told me that I must bring my husband out of the house.
I answered, “You have been inside, why don’t you bring him out
yourself? I cannot do so, because he is on commando.”
“When did he go from here?” he asked me.
“A week since,” I answered.
After asking a few more questions and taking whatever he wanted he went
away.
I went to the village; I could not remain on the farm alone with the
children.
From that moment the troops did whatever they liked. I had two horses;
the Kaffirs had taken all the cattle. I saw now that they were taking
the horses out of the stable and were going to ride away on them. The
hardest thing was that one of the horses had belonged to my dead son,
and I could not bear to part with it. I asked to see General Hunter,
and I told him about the farm and about my horses. He said he knew
nothing about the horses, but would make inquiries. The next day my two
horses were brought back, and I was told that no damage would be done
to the farm; but all the same they did whatever they liked there, and I
had to put a good face upon everything.
Every day more troops came past, and the only news I could get from
them about my people was that they had driven General De la Rey into
such a tight corner that he would never be able to escape.
I used to say to them then, “Very well. I hope that when you have got
hold of him you will treat him kindly. Remember, he is only fighting
for his lawful rights and property.”
[Illustration: General De la Rey and his staff.]
Then again I heard that no, he had not been taken prisoner. (This was
in June 1902.)
When General De la Rey and his staff were in the east, after they had
been driven out of Pretoria by the superior numbers of the enemy, the
people in the west country had a terrible time. The women were for the
greater part alone on their farms, and their cattle were at the mercy
of the cruel Kaffirs, who used to come and steal them away, generally
at night. They would burst into the houses and make their way to the
women, and tell them that they must have their money, using such
threats and such violence that many a one fled in the night with her
children, and often wandered for hours before she could find shelter.
It was bitter enough for them then; but little could they think that
all this was but a drop in the cup of their suffering. Many of the
burghers returned home on this account to see what they could do to
save their families. Three burghers from this neighbourhood were killed
during the war--Adriaan Mussman, Adrian De la Rey and Petrus Biel. All
three were still young, but they fought like the bravest for freedom
and the right.
Adriaan Mussman was only twenty-two; he did not know the name of fear.
In the thick of a fierce fight he saw that our guns were in danger. He
rushed forward with the others who tried to save them. Bullets were
raining all round him, but nothing could keep him back but death. He
drew his last breath like a brave hero.
“_Rude storms may wage round me
And darkness prevail,
God’s grace shall surround me,
His help shall not fail.
How long I may suffer
His love still shines bright,
And leads me through darkness
To live in His light._”
“_The darker the night may be, the more do we pant for the sunshine;
The denser the mist may close, the more do we yearn for brightness;
The deeper the chasm before me, the more do I sigh for the plains;
The darker the future may seem, the greater shall be my redemption._”
As each day drew to a close I was dreading what should happen on the
next.
One day one of my friends came to tell me that the commandant wanted
to have my daughter and myself out of the place, but that he could not
find any pretext for sending us away. I used sometimes to go to my
farm to see how things were getting on there, but so many “khakis” were
about that I never knew how to come away quickly enough.
The village had been occupied for about two months when one day I saw
to my dismay that the enemy were burning things wholesale. That same
evening they withdrew from the village.
A few days after they had left, our people came back with big
commandoes.
A week after the “khakis” had gone out of Lichtenburg General De la Rey
came back to the village, but after spending only a day or two with us,
he started again for the Rustenburg district.
Then General Douglas returned and occupied the village once more. He
came to our farm and took away all our sheep. When the English had got
all our cattle, they went off, and we could again breathe freely.
I went to the place where the cattle used to be kept, and there I found
the shepherd waiting for me.[3] He had been able to recover one or two
hundred of our sheep, so that I and my children still had something
left to us to live upon.
[3] The shepherds are generally Kaffirs who live on the place. The
following statement shows strikingly in its simplicity how their own
Kaffirs remained attached to the Boers in spite of all the so-called
“barbarous treatment.”
Shortly afterwards General De la Rey returned to Lichtenburg.
But General Douglas had not moved very far off, and as soon as he
heard that General De la Rey was in the place he came back with his
troops at full speed. But General De la Rey was already far away in the
distance. Just to show the “khakis” that we were not as starving as
they thought, I made some bread out of the flour that my husband had
brought us and sent two fresh loaves to Douglas. The English soon left
to take up the pursuit again; and now the talk was that they were in
their 20,000 after De la Rey, and that this time he would never manage
to escape.
I said again, “Very well, you catch him if you can, but be good to
him.” A few days later he was still free; the 20,000 had not been able
to get hold of him.
Shortly afterwards Lord Methuen entered the village and took up his
quarters. He sent to fetch my two horses, but I would not let them go.
I said, “No, I will not give them up to you; I shall go and see the
General himself about it.” “Very well,” was the answer, “you can see
him to-morrow morning at nine o’clock; that will be the best time.” The
next morning I started off, but when I got there Lord Methuen could
not see me; he was too busy, they said. I felt very angry. I turned to
go back, when just as I had got to my carriage, one of his orderlies
brought me the message that Lord Methuen was ready to receive me, and
they took me to him. He asked what he could do for me.
I answered, “For me you cannot do much, for as far as my cattle are
concerned I have lost nearly everything. But I have still two horses
left, and one of these belonged to my son, who is dead, and I hope that
you will not take it away from me.” He gave me his hand and he said,
“It shall not be taken away from you.” I thanked him and went home
again. Lord Methuen remained in Lichtenburg for a week. When the place
was once more empty General De la Rey came back to the village. He
remained with us for four days. The day he left Lord Methuen returned.
There was a big fight that day not very far from the village. Towards
nightfall the burghers beat a retreat under General Lemmer, and next
morning the troops came back to Lichtenburg.
The following day the English commandant came to see me. He had a hard
task before him, he told me; he had been ordered to burn my house down.
I asked him where I was to go to with my children if my house were
burned down.
“I shall leave one of the buildings standing for you.”
I thanked him, and I said to him, “Burn them down, burn the others down
if you think it fit to do so. Even if you leave one for me, there will
still be four to burn. However cruel you may seem to be, yet God is
always gracious.”
He answered that it was very hard indeed for him; but that he had his
orders and he must obey.
All the same, he went away without burning any of the buildings.
Then came another trial. One afternoon, at about three o’clock, they
suddenly came to tell me that I must start for Mafeking with my
daughter in half-an-hour.
“And what about my other children then?” I asked.
“Have you got more children still?” asked the man.
I called all my children together.
“Very well,” he went on then, “you can take all your children with you.”
“And for what reasons am I being sent away in this fashion?”
“When General De la Rey was here you took him in and sheltered him.”
“Yes,” I answered, “I did take him in and shelter him; and I shall do
it five hundred times more if it please the Lord to spare him. I am
prepared to go away as a prisoner of war, but I will not do it of my
own free will. And you say to Lord Methuen that he knows very well
that my husband is only fighting for his rights and doing his best for
his country. I will tell you a parable for him. Instead of doing harm
to our cause, every step you take against us makes it one hundredfold
stronger. Where only one now calls for vengeance, hundreds shall come
to be avenged. He can send me wherever he likes, but it will not do you
any good. I never thought to be so badly treated in the Queen’s name. I
could not have believed that because you cannot get the better of our
men you would set to work against their women.”
“Well,” he said, “I must not talk too much, for we have very little
time.” With that he left me and went to Lord Methuen; but he soon came
back again, and then said that I had not been _ordered_ to leave the
place, but that it would be _better_ for me if I were to do so.
“No, I do not think that it would be better for me to go away from my
own land. I would choose far rather to stay and suffer with my own
people than go away.”
“Very well, ask General De la Rey, then, what you had better do.”
“No, I shall ask him nothing of the kind. He has his own work, and I
shall decide and make shift for myself.”
“Very good; then I shall send and ask Commandant Vermaas to take you
away from here.”
“I can send one of my boys if you will only give him a pass through
your troops. Then he can go to Commandant Vermaas and ask him to send
me a span of oxen so that I can get away from here.” This was agreed
to. Later on it was said that the officers had decided to let me stay
on in the village, but that I had refused to do so, and had declared
that I was going away as soon as my oxen arrived.
They kept coming to see me the whole time, and were always talking
about the war, saying that the Boers had far better give it up.
I used to reply, Yes, it would be a good thing to see an end to the
war; but it is no small matter for a people to give up their country,
and that it would cost them a very great deal before they could put an
end to it.
I asked them, “How strong are the forces that the English have sent to
South Africa to fight us?”
“Nearly 300,000 strong,” was the officer’s answer.
“We have about 60,000 Transvaalers and Free Staters,” I said, “and we
have been fighting with you now for over fourteen months; how can you
possibly expect that we are going to give up our arms of our own free
will? No! You will have a great deal of trouble before you bring that
about.”
I was waiting meanwhile in great anxiety for the coming of my oxen, so
that I should be able to make a start. It was five days more before
they arrived, for the oxen were kept far away from the village. I got
everything ready in the meantime to be able to go off as soon as they
came, for I dreaded every moment that a fresh order would come and that
I should not be able to go. At last the oxen arrived. When our friends
saw that they were there, they came hastening from every side to wish
us God-speed. It was a hard thing for our friends to see us sent
away in this manner to wander without a home. I said that no, I was
beginning my travels willingly, but all unknowing where they were going
to end or what the future had in store for me. One thing I knew, and
that was, if all my friends were left behind, my Heavenly Father would
yet be with me.
I hastened to pack everything into the waggon, and prepared to start on
my pilgrimage.
On Friday, December 1, 1900, I drove out of Lichtenburg after taking
leave of my friends. The oxen were put to the waggon; the children got
into it. I had still a couple of milch cows that I could take with me.
I and my daughter followed behind in my carriage. It was raining hard
as I left my village behind, not knowing whether ever I should step
foot in it again. Lord Methuen’s order had been that I was to go ten
miles away from the village and not to come nearer. Next day I came
to the place where Commandant Vermaas and his commando were staying.
He told me that I could go to his farm and remain there as long as
I liked; but as my husband’s work then lay for the most part in the
Rustenburg district, I preferred to go on, instead of staying at the
commandant’s farm. So I went from there to Kafferspan, a place about
eighteen miles from the village of Lichtenburg. When General De la Rey
heard that I had been sent out of the village he sent my son Coos to
come to fetch me. Then I heard that on the 3rd of December 1900 they
had captured a convoy near Magaliesberg and had struck a good blow at
the English. I said, “That is right! It is not only I who have been in
adversity; they too” (the English) “have had their reverses.”
I went from there to Zuurfontein, a place belonging to Mr Kritzinger,
not far from Rustenburg; he gave me a house to live in. The people
there were all kind and friendly. After I had been staying with Mr
Kritzinger about a week, General De la Rey arrived with his staff; it
was a great delight to see them all again. It was a good thing for
them, also, that I was out of the village. But after having remained
a few days they had to go off again to join the commando. Where I was
living was not very far from the English camp; it was a mountainous
district, and we could hear the cannon shots distinctly every day. On
the 13th of December General De la Rey took General Clement’s laager,
at a place called Nooitgedacht, behind the hills, and for a short time
after that there was no more fighting. As Christmas was coming nearer
and nearer, I had been wondering what sort of a Christmastide it would
be for me; but as the English still kept quiet, General De la Rey
and his staff came back to us again. They arrived just the day before
Christmas, and once more I had the great joy of having my own dear ones
round me. There were a great many people on the farm where I was then
staying, and on Christmas Day many friends came together there. As soon
as Christmas was over they all went away again to the commando; but,
as there was nothing to be done that week, our people all returned for
the New Year, and, owing to this, we were also able to spend a happy,
though quiet, New Year’s Day together. A little while later they heard
that many English laagers were trekking up, and that the place where I
was staying lay right in their way, so that I had to pack up everything
in the greatest haste ready for flight. The day was just over when I
got this news, and we had to pack the waggon in the dark. Very early
the next morning we left the farm behind us.
As I had some cattle and sheep this time to take with me, and as we did
not exactly know which way the English were coming, we could not think
where to move to for safety. After going some distance, we waited to
hear from which side the laagers were coming. In a day or two we heard
that the English troops had gone back again, and so I went back also to
the farm belonging to Mr Kritzinger, whose family had accompanied me in
my flight. I stayed with them there for two months, and often heard the
booming of the cannon among the mountains.
[Illustration: Mrs De la Rey beside her waggon.]
For nineteen months after that I wandered round in my waggon, and,
just as one gets attached to the room in which one sleeps, so did I
grow to love my waggon. Many a stormy night, when it was blowing and
raining, have my Kaffirs had a hard job to get the sailcloth covering
firmly fixed, so that the wind should not blow it right away. Over
many a hill and across many a river this waggon has taken me safely.
For in my darkest and most anxious nights never did I fail to put my
trust in the Lord, and never did His guidance forsake me. Sometimes in
my journeyings I would come to houses which had not been completely
destroyed, and where, perhaps, one room would still be under shelter;
then I would have it cleaned quickly; we would stay there during the
heat of the day. Sometimes I would come to a place where I had
meant to spend a few days, and then at once would have to leave in all
haste and continue my flight. One day we came to Mr Basson’s place
(in the Lichtenburg district), and, almost the same moment, General
De la Rey and his staff arrived from the Zwartruggen (in the district
of Rustenburg). When he came up with my waggon he was tired out, and,
after having some dinner, he got into the waggon to lie down a little
and rest. But he had hardly been there half-an-hour when a man came
hurrying up, crying, “Why are you all so quiet here? The “khakis” are
upon us!” And there were the “khakis,” just half-an-hour’s distance on
horseback from my waggon. There was no commando that could have turned
them; General De la Rey and his staff flew to saddle their horses, and
jumped up and rode out to see what the “khakis” were doing. When they
(General De la Rey and his staff) had ridden up the rise they saw that
the English troops were drawing back. Then I had to fly still farther.
A bare country lay before me to be crossed, and I thought that this
time I should never be able to get away safely, but we found afterwards
that though the “khakis” had been so near us they had had no idea of
it, and we managed to come away safe and sound. The same thing often
happened, and it seemed wonderful that I was not taken prisoner. As
they had blocked up all the roads with their blockhouses, it became so
difficult to get through that I had to go in the direction of Harts
River, a bare and unpleasant tract of country. As we went on we found
thousands of dead sheep lying about, killed by the English. They had
not been able to keep up with the march, and had been driven together
and slaughtered, and there they were scattered, some shot, others cut
down, and others with their heads taken off by a sabre cut. Many a time
did I repeat, “Ah, this is indeed a cruel war! What bitter suffering
has it not caused both to man and beast!” Often I have thought, “What
is going to come out of all these trials and troubles!” Even when I
looked at the comet I wondered what it could portend that it should
appear three mornings running in the east, and then again every evening
in the west, during a whole month--this was in the months of June and
July 1901. As I was journeying on the open veldt I could see this star
plainly every evening; and when this sign was no longer to be seen,
then another made its appearance. Every evening after sunset this other
token appeared in the sky; a bright red radiance filled the air, and
would remain visible for about three-quarters of an hour.
“_Whither, pilgrim--whither art thou flying?
We are driven onward by the enemy’s sword.
A terrible sword are the guns and the cannon,
When man is standing on his defence;
But the cruel sword of fire and of hunger,
Cutting its way through the heart of a mother,
Is more terrible still than the booming of cannon.
The keen-edged sword of destruction and terror,
Piercing the hearts of Africa’s children,
Has taught them a lesson they shall not forget._”
I thought that the enemy were now so far away that we should be able to
spend some time where we now found ourselves.
General De la Rey fell ill once more and had to join me and take to
his bed. Early one morning I had just got up when suddenly we heard
the sound of firing. The English were then only one hour’s distance
from us; they had covered a great deal of ground in the night, and had
been for five or six hours in the saddle, hoping to catch the burghers
at Tafelkop. General De la Rey sprung out of bed. The horses were
saddled in a moment, and off they rode. The firing was coming nearer
and nearer. I thought to myself, “I am in for the fighting to-day,”
but all the same I began packing everything into the cart as quickly
as possible. Very soon I was in flight once more. It looked as if
things were going very badly, for all round me people were hurrying
as hard as they could. It began to rain. The waggons and the mule
carts came tearing past, and it began to look as if I were going to
be left behind. It was raining heavily. The booming of the cannon
sounded closer and closer, and the danger became greater every moment.
Then suddenly my waggon stuck fast in the mud, and I could not go on
any farther. It kept on raining, and the burghers kept coming on in
greater numbers. They stopped by my waggon and tried to drag it out of
the mud. The fighting kept on, and I told them to go away and leave me
before they too were forced to share my fate. “No,” they said; “that
we will never do. What would the General say if we were to leave you
here and the ‘khakis’ were to take you?” The oxen would not pull any
more because they stood in so much water. Then the people took hold
of the wheels and they managed to drag it out. After the waggon had
stuck fast I went on farther in the spider. There were now so many
waggons and carriages all close together that it looked like a big
commando. In the afternoon we stopped to rest; the rain cleared up
for a little and we had something to eat. Very soon came the order to
get ready to start again. We had not gone very far when the waggon
in front remained leaning against a steep bank, over which it had to
climb. It was raining heavily again. I thought, “How will things go
with us to-day, we have so many hindrances, and the ‘khakis’ keep on
advancing?” However, there were a good many burghers, and they helped
to get the waggons across. My spider also came to a standstill against
the rocks, so that they (the burghers) had to drag it out. We were in
danger, and yet we really enjoyed ourselves so much that time went
quickly. It took several hours before all the waggons had got through.
Then we drove on more quickly, and by sunset we came to where we meant
to spend the night. I drove to a house to wait till all the waggons had
arrived. There was so much water round the house that it was impossible
to tell where there were ditches or hollows. When driving towards the
waggons I went into a deep ditch and my driver was thrown off. I and my
little son remained sitting in the carriage; the horses started off.
They swerved towards the side of the house; fortunately there were some
burghers there who ran in front and stopped them. It was already dark.
I suggested that they had better be unharnessed; I would walk to the
waggon. Just then my husband came up with his riding horse Bokkie for
me to ride to the waggon. However, Bokkie’s back was too narrow; as
sure as I climbed up, off I would slip. Then his other saddle-horse
came up, and off we rode to the waggons. All were there now, and very
hungry; it was dark and damp, but luckily, with some dry wood, we
soon had big fires going to prepare food. The enemy had not come much
nearer. After a good meal we went to sleep, and early next morning
I went on again with the waggons. The men folk joined the commando,
and at Rietfontein, where I had made up my mind to spend some time, I
went into the school, then empty. There were a good many people in the
place, and one could get vegetables and fruit. But I had been there
for only about a week when suddenly a large number of English troops
entered the Rustenburg district where we were. Off I went again in
great haste, this time to the Lichtenburg district. I had to drive hard
to get past. I was lucky, and came safely through. Passing Lichtenburg,
I came to Badenhorst, and found a deserted shop in which I could take
up my abode. Here also we had kind friends, who took care to keep us
supplied with vegetables. One evening, a fortnight later, just as I
had gone to bed, the report was spread that the “khakis” were coming.
It was very dark and cold, but I was soon up and dressed and had the
waggons packed, and off we went again on the road. Next morning it
seemed true that the “khakis” were behind us; once again we drove past
Lichtenburg. Now there seemed nothing left for me but to fly with all
possible speed to the Zwartruggens. When I got there Mr Joubert came
on with me and brought me far into the mountains. “Here,” he said,
“no ‘khakis’ had found their way yet.” And there I had to stay. There
were many big trees growing, and the Marico River looked lovely as it
flowed along; it was a pleasant spot to stay in. I made an oven so as
to be able to bake my bread. I set up my hut in the cool shade of the
trees, where all looked so beautiful and green, and made a stable for
my horses with some trees and a kraal for the sheep, just as if I were
destined to live here a long time.
My soap was all finished and I began much to feel the need of it to
keep my children clean.
I was advised to burn some vogelsent[4] to make soap out of the ashes.
I gathered some “vogels,” had them burned, and succeeded in making
some good soap. The children wandered on the mountain side searching
for wild honey. I thought that if the “khakis” did not worry me, I
should remain here for a long time. But after a fortnight my husband
turned up, and said that it was too cold to live out on the veldt,
and we went back to the farm belonging to Mrs Lombard. From there
General De la Rey and his staff went on to the Free State, where they
were to meet President Steyn and General De Wet. I had been here only
twelve days when early one morning the cannon suddenly began to make
such a threatening noise that I hastened to pack up my belongings and
fled away once more. At Drinkfontein I thought that I would wait and
find out where the “khakis” were moving to. But soon I heard again
the roaring of the cannon. At that moment I was making some candles;
water and fat were both hot. It was high time to be on our way, and I
said, “Get ready and make a start; but I must somehow or other finish
my work.” The oxen were not by the waggon, so that it was some little
time before everything was ready; and I had finished my candles when
the waggon was prepared to start. Then we were again flying as hard as
we could through the Lichtenburg district across the Harts River. It
is not a pleasant country to wander in; there are no woods or shady
trees; and as soon as the “khakis” had gone back, back I returned
also, to try to find better headquarters. And so the time passed till
General De la Rey returned. Then he went away again, back to the
Wolmaransstad district. Meanwhile I kept wandering around. Suddenly we
heard that many of the enemy’s laagers were advancing together towards
Klerksdorp. I went on some distance farther, and then from all sides
the people began to hurry onwards, so that the flight was now beginning
in earnest. The troops were advancing in great force. We fled in the
direction of Makouwenkop and then were joined again by General De la
Rey. At last the Boer commandoes managed to get through, so that they
got behind the English. Then we had to fly as hard as we could so as
to keep in front. Some people went back that night, hoping to break
through the English troops. They said that I ought to go with them; but
I said, “No, I shall go forward, and I shall see if I cannot escape
that way.”
[4] _Vogelsent._--Lumps of resin that exude from certain trees.
When we came to the Vaal River we were forced to turn about. We took
another way back. After driving all day, we stopped for a little. We
had to get food ready as quickly as possible. It was very dark; but
later the moon began to shine. We fled on in great anxiety, knowing
that at any moment the “khakis” might be upon us. My husband said that
it would be too bad if they were to take me prisoner when he was near
the waggon, for he would have to fight then, and to leave me to myself.
I said, “Nay, do not let that disturb you; do what you can to escape
when they come; the Lord has always preserved me until now, and He will
continue to do so.” At midnight we stopped for a little to let the oxen
take a rest; but after an hour or two we pressed forward again in good
earnest. Bokkie was saddled and marched behind the waggon, and all
were ready to meet the “khakis.” We hurried on; it was near the break
of day, and I thought to myself how grateful I should be to the Lord if
it pleased Him to guide the course of the night so that I might not be
taken. It grew light and the sun began to shine. All was quiet and we
stopped to rest. Then it was reported that the “khakis” had gone past
us.
We were all very happy, and after we had had something to eat, and had
taken a little rest, we went once more on our way. It was Saturday,
and we hoped to be able to spend Sunday in peace. When we had gone
on again, I sat in my waggon and felt very thankful that this time I
had again escaped with my freedom. And then the words came into my
head, “Offer your thanks unto the Lord, and call upon the name of the
Almighty.” “Yes,” I thought, “that is what I have done in my need;
praise be unto the Lord that He has preserved me from falling into the
hands of mine enemy. The good God has saved me now and many a time
before.”
On Sunday we found ourselves in Brakspruit, and there we spent a
peaceful Sabbath day: on Monday we set out for Wolmaransstad, there we
found our houses in ruins. It was dreary to return and find the place
in such a plight.
A little way from Wolmaransstad we went to Mr Bezuidenhout’s farm and
found that his house was fortunately still intact. We were able to bake
bread there and make preparations for our next flight. After remaining
there a week we went back to the Lichtenburg district. At Malgasfontein
I found refuge in a house whose owners had been taken by the “khakis.”
As I had a good number of oxen with me, and it was raining just enough,
I had a lot of mealies sown there, for we were constantly doing
whatever we could to keep things going. Everybody sowed and planted
wherever possible. The “khakis” might destroy as much as they liked,
the Boers were still full of courage.
I had great difficulty at that time to keep things straight; as I have
many children it grew extremely difficult to keep them all clean.
Soap was still very scarce; I could not get more anywhere. As far as
clothes were concerned I was happy as long as they were only clean. A
man told me he had scraped off some deposit of saltpetre from a wall at
Schoonspruit and had made good soap. As soon as possible I got a bag of
it and also made some very good soap, so that I had not to worry about
that any longer.
After we had been here about three weeks General De la Rey came back
from the Zwartruggens after the defeat of Colonel Van Donop, which
took place at Kleinfontein on the 24th of October 1901. It was on
the 24th of October 1901, the very day that we had been married for
twenty-five years, that a terrible battle was fought, in which many
people were killed or wounded, and among them one more good friend of
ours, Commandant Kritzinger, and his son, both of whom were killed.
So that we had on this day, instead of a silver wedding feast, a
terrible shedding of blood. There were great losses on both sides. But
the burghers were now, however, well supplied again with clothes and
other things which they had been needing badly. We had made up our
minds to stay here, when suddenly came the report that the troops were
advancing. We made a hurried start in the direction of Harts River,
and went on from there till past the Zoutspannen. When the enemy had
gone off in another direction back we went again slowly all along the
Harts River. Whenever we thought that we were going to be left in peace
for a little while, we would find that the English troops were coming
in such numbers that we would have to go on trekking backwards and
forwards without any respite. With the approach of Christmas things
grew quieter. I went to Doornfontein, Badenhorst’s place. The houses
had been injured but not quite destroyed, so that I was able to make
use of one during the time that I remained.
My people were all with me; we spent a pleasant Christmas. Still, we
were not very far from Klerksdorp, where there were so many “khakis”
that the day after Christmas we had to begin our march again. A few
days later I got a message telling me to turn back to Doornfontein;
and there we all met again and spent the New Year. That was in 1901.
The day after New Year’s Day there were so many “khakis” about that
I had to fly past Lichtenburg and take refuge in the Zwartruggens.
Putfontein, where I next found myself, was utterly destroyed and burnt
down. As I was greatly concerned because my people had no bread with
them, I wandered round the desolate place hoping to find an oven which
had not been destroyed. All the ovens had been broken down, but at last
I found an attempt at one that the poor women had set up and used for
preparing bread. I said, “It does not look of much use, still I shall
try what I can do.” It was late in the evening and rain was falling.
There was no wood to be got, but I went on with my breadmaking, and the
boy (a Kaffir) had to try and make a fire somehow or other. He was a
very sharp boy, and he succeeded in heating the oven.
General Kemps had his laager in the same place. In the evening all the
burghers came together, and they asked me if I would join in their
worship. “With pleasure,” I said. It was then quite dark. I went to
the laager and we had a short service, and after that sang songs out
of the “Kinderharp.” It was so pleasant that I quite forgot to bake my
bread. We also sang beautiful hymns that they themselves had composed,
so that I had a very pleasant evening. I hurried to the oven, where
I found that the biscuit had risen. It seemed as if the oven were not
hot enough, and yet I could not get any more fuel for it. I put all the
bread in and thought “let it bake itself as best it can.” I waited till
I thought that it was ready and then I sent Sampson, the boy, to bring
it out of the oven. He came back with it and it looked still as if it
were quite raw. However, it was always something to eat. I went to
sleep. Next morning I had hoped to be able to spend a peaceful Sunday.
A little way from my waggon were some big trees, and as many burghers
were there, we all agreed to meet under the trees to hold our service.
I and my children were there and many burghers; but as all had not
arrived we waited a while until the leader said he would go on with the
service, and then the people would come fast enough. After we had sung
he began to speak to us, but it did not look as if any more people were
coming. We were some distance from the waggons and could see that there
everyone was hurrying backwards and forwards. I thought that the old
man did not seem very much inclined to put a stop to his service, but
things looked to me so grave that I said that we must really go to see
what was happening. We hurried back to the waggons, and very soon we
could hear the firing. I started off as quickly as possible. Very soon
many people in their waggons were keeping up with mine. We fled for
some distance and then sent out scouts a little way back. General De
la Rey with his staff came up. It was he who had been under that heavy
firing; a mark was on his back where a bullet had whizzed past. They
had all escaped unhurt and were very hungry and tired. It was then that
the bread I had baked the night before served in good stead. They ate
some, and that same evening they had to go back. I was thus able still
to supply them with bread. I went on to the Zwartruggens this time; I
did not want to go so far into the mountains as it was beginning to
be very warm there. On the slopes of the mountains large trees were
growing. I set up my tent in the shade. There was fruit to be had: my
children were happy.
Then I heard that the enemy were coming with their blockhouses towards
Lichtenburg. Then I knew I must go out of the mountains; I did not want
to get blocked up. And we went away again, after having been a week
there.
At Duikfontein I found large numbers of cattle and sheep that our
people had brought through the lines. General Kemp’s commando had
succeeded in doing this and in bringing cattle to other districts
also. I was still waiting there when General De la Rey arrived with
his staff. By that time I felt quite rested. He said that it was not
necessary for me to go at once to Rustenburg. So we merely went to a
place not very distant. A day or two later there were again so many
“khakis” gathered in Lichtenburg that we did not dare stay longer, as
it was only three hours’ distance from the village. We went from there
to some untilled ground belonging to us, which we kept for the cattle,
two and a half hours away from Lichtenburg. It was a good neighbourhood
for fruit; there was plenty of water, and not very distant was a
large fruit farm. We hoped thus to be able to stay for a while. We sent
the waggon to get fruit, and we set up our tent under the cool trees.
[Illustration: “The picture of my wandering life”.]
And here you have the picture of my wandering life. When I could set up
the tent under shady trees and cover the floor with green grass, then
I felt thoroughly happy and content. Often when in such a good place I
thought to myself, “If only I could stay here quietly for some time how
happy and pleasant it would be!” And sometimes I had the good fortune
to be able to stay for two days or a week in such a spot. But at other
times it would happen that just as I had got everything in good order,
then the “khakis” would be upon us and everything would have to be
taken down quickly to make a fresh start. Often we fled until the
middle of the night, and when we could stop to rest it would be so dark
that it was impossible to see one’s hands before one’s eyes. Yet the
tent would have to be put up before we could get to sleep.