I did not want to speak about it with his father. The terrible shedding
of blood was at end. We had offered up our property and our blood for
Freedom and Justice.... Where was this freedom? where was this justice?
Jesus was betrayed by Judas. He had to die the cruel death on the
cross. His death brought us everlasting life; yet Judas killed himself.
We have been betrayed by many of our burghers. We have lost our right
for a time. Yet they who struggled to the end, and who resolved
that right must go first without thinking of might, have kept their
fortitude. However the end may have shaped itself, they are glad not to
have been Judases.
There was now a great longing on the part of all those around to see
the members of their families from whom they had been parted for so
long.
I, too, rejoiced that I could go to Pretoria to see my children, whom I
had not seen for so long a time. And I thought again of my beloved son,
whom I had had to give up.
And yet I had not had to sacrifice so much; many a woman had given her
husband and her children too.
We went on to Klerksdorp in my waggon. As we would have to drive for
two days before getting there, and as Sunday came in between, on
that day we made a halt. It was the last Sunday that I spent out on
the veldt. I thought earnestly of all that had taken place. How many
Sundays had I not spent in flying before the enemy?
Sunday evening we entered Klerksdorp; Monday morning I sent back the
waggons which had housed me and my children for twenty months. I had
grown so used to life in my waggon that I did not like to see it go
away.
We went to Pretoria that evening, and I found my children in
well-being. It was pleasant after such a long separation. I had been
two days in Pretoria when a son was born to my daughter. Then I became
a grandmother, for this was the first grand-child. He was christened
Jacobus Herklaas De la Rey. I felt very grateful. In all the bitterness
of those weary days I was able to say, “But He knoweth the way that I
take; when He hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold” (Job xxiii.
10); and also as in Job ii. 10 (the last part), “What? Shall we receive
good at the hand of God and shall we not receive evil? In all this did
not Job sin with his lips.”
Now, dear brothers and sisters, since we are sure that God shall
prove His Word, let us stand steadfast in our faith and wait for the
salvation of the Lord. This is the time of trial; now will the Lord
see if we are worthy that He should make His wonders manifest unto us
before the eyes of the whole world.
“_Though He tarry, He knows His hour,
He comes, He surely comes:
And all eyes shall contemplate Him,
All hearts shall realise the deeds
Which He wrought here upon earth._”
[Illustration: Mesdames Ferreira and Bezuidenhout.]
One of the three ladies standing up (in the accompanying photograph)
is my daughter, now Mrs Ferreira; the other two are two Misses
Bezuidenhout. They have there the very flags of the Transvaal and
Orange Free State, which are their great treasure. The two Misses
Bezuidenhout are the daughters of the Widow Bezuidenhout, my husband’s
eldest sister. She is the mother of nine children; she too had her
house burned down and all that she possessed taken away from her. I
have often found her in tears, and she would say to me, “What is to
become of us all? I and my children have not one single animal left
alive, and everything on my farm has been destroyed!”
Her daughter (Mrs Bodenstein) is also a mother of seven children, and
when I saw her she told me that she had nothing for her children, not a
single blanket had been left to her. When she went to complain to the
English officer, he only asked her, “Who is the man who did it?” The
man who did it was nowhere to be found. But the harm had been done, and
in the same way not one, but many had to suffer. May no other people
in the world ever have to endure another such war so long as the world
may last. I do not think that it can be forgotten. I cannot say who it
was who were wrong, we or our adversaries. But this I can say, that
it was terrible to bear. Never could I have thought that human beings
could treat each other in such a way. I know well that war is one of
the blackest things upon earth, still I cannot depart from all sense
of justice and put down every sort of barbarity to war and consider it
right. As we were known to the whole world as two Christian nations,
I had thought that such things could not be allowed. But I have been
taught that suffering and misery can go on increasing to the bitter
end, and that in war no deed can be too hard or cruel to be committed.
[Illustration: Four of Mrs De la Rey’s children, with two little girl
friends.]
Here are four of my children who during all my wanderings were with me
all the time. A Frenchman near my waggon took this photograph; he found
it very amusing to take the children in that way. The girl with the
revolver is the daughter of Field-Cornet Meyer, at whose place I was
then staying. The Frenchman slung round the children all the guns and
revolvers and field-glasses.
At times the children thoroughly enjoyed life out on the veldt. It
was often trying for them with all the hardships we were constantly
encountering, but on the whole the children came off better than their
elders. When there was danger they would begin to cry, but soon it
would all be forgotten. They were always so ready to help me and to
make everything easier for me as far as they could. It was very hard
for them sometimes to look after themselves and keep their clothes
in order. And as they always went on growing they kept growing out of
their clothes and wore them out, so that they had to help to patch
and make the most of them. Sometimes they would have no cups or mugs
to drink out of--then they would set to work with “jambliks” and try
to make mugs out of them. My brother, Jan Greef, who used sometimes
to be near my waggon, would help to make mugs. He was very clever
at it. Fortunately, I managed to keep always one or two cups and
saucers. Cups which could break so easily during all that driving
about had to be taken great care of. We were always trying to find new
ways of doing things. If we wanted cotton for sewing we would take a
piece of sailcloth, unravel it and use the threads, or else undo our
shoe-strings and unravel them. The girls made a large number of
socks, stockings, bands, etc. We would take some sheep’s wool and card
it; then the Kaffir boys made little wooden “machines,” and with them
wove the wool into strands.
[Illustration: Three of Mrs De la Rey’s children.]
Here are also three more of my children, the three youngest. The little
boy in the middle, Gabriel Johannes, is now six. He often used to say
to the English soldiers, “Hands up,” and then they would laugh at him.
It was a pleasure to him to be flying away; whenever we had been long
in one place, he would say, “I wish we had to run away again; not from
the ‘khakis,’ but just so as to be driving.” When he heard that the
burghers had to give up their arms, he said, “I am not going to give my
gun to ‘khakis’; I would rather break it in pieces; the ‘khakis’ shall
never have it.” There he has it in his hand. It was such a momentous
time, even the youngest felt the weight of it.
If I am still to go through many days of hardship in this life, let
me then cast a glance upon those that are past. Because once we had
so many good and happy hours, and now find ourselves so bitterly
oppressed, I have often heard people say that they doubted whether
there could be a God.
What I used to think of in my days that were most full of sorrow, was
just that it could be no mortal that was guiding us through everything;
my past life rose constantly before my eyes. My father, Hendrik Adrian
Greef, who is now long since dead, was one of the Voortrekkers of
Transvaal, and he went then to live in Lichtenburg, where I remained
from my fourth year, till the day I was driven away by the war. My
father too had had to go through a great deal; for in those days
the whole place was a wilderness. When my father went on a shooting
expedition, as we were living alone on the farm, my mother would not
let him leave her behind; so she used to go with him with her four
children, of which I was the eldest, then twelve years old. It was a
wild country; one met only Kaffirs and other savage people. They were
like wild beasts; as soon as they caught sight of us they would run off
as hard as they could; thus very often my father could not get anybody
to show him where there was water. He went on then to the Lake, and
from there to Damaraland, so that this journey kept us for a year on
the veldt. We were often in danger from the black Kaffirs, who tried to
get hold of us; and often we came to places where there was no water to
be found.
When passing through these later days of trial I often thought of my
father, for a child does not easily forget what its father has done.
When living in prosperity, it had always been my wish to walk in the
ways of the Lord, and now, however hard the storm of injustice might
strike me, never would it be heavy enough to part me from the love of
Jesus. In the days when all was well with me I often wondered how it
would be if I had to bear great troubles; and if I should not then
despair. When one is happy it is easy enough to be a Christian. And
though, like everyone else upon this earth, I have my cross, yet the
Saviour has always made it lighter for me, so that I am able to bear it.
And this weary war has taught me to see one thing clearly;--that the
bent reed will not be broken. For many a time when I thought, “Now all
is over,” I would seem to hear God’s voice answering me, and saying,
“He who persists unto the end shall be saved.” Thus I cannot come to
understand how in such times men can drift away from God instead of
drawing closer to Him.
So I can say about myself, “I shall still praise and thank the Lord
for His Fatherly guidance”; for who was it that watched over me when I
wandered around for many a stormy day and night?--It was our gracious
God. Who was it that kept me and mine from falling into the hands of
our adversary?--It was the Lord, before whom we must all of us come one
day.
How can I then prove unfaithful? No--however great may be our
sufferings, I shall always put my trust in the salvation of the Lord.
* * * * *
_Praise the Lord, who ever will forgive your sins. How many they may
be, He will graciously forgive. He knows your sufferings and will
lovingly cure them. He will cleanse your life from stain, and will
crown you with goodness and mercy as He saved you in your need._
JACOBA ELIZABETH DE LA REY,
(born Greef).
COLSTON AND COY. LIMITED, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH