After the above unpleasant but fairly successful interview with our
Commander-in-Chief, I left the men I had gathered round me in charge of a
field-cornet, and proceeded by train to Newcastle to collect the scattered
remnants of my burghers, and to obtain mules and waggons for my convoy. For,
as I have previously stated, it was at Newcastle we had left all our
commissariat-waggons and draught cattle under a strong escort. On arrival I
summoned the burghers together, and addressing them in a few words, pointed
out that we should, so soon as possible, resume the march, in order to reach
the fighting line without delay, and there retrieve the pride and honour of
our commando.
"Our beloved country," I said, "as well as our dead, wounded and missing
comrades, require us not to lose courage at this first reverse, but to
continue the righteous struggle even against overwhelming odds," and so on,
in this strain.
I
honestly cannot understand why we should have been charged with cowardice at
the battle of Elandslaagte, although many of us seemed to apprehend that
this would be the case. We had made a good fight of it, but overwhelmed by
an organised force of disciplined men, eight or ten times our number, we had
been vanquished, and the British were the first to admit that we had
manfully and honourably defended our positions. To put a wrong construction
on our defeat was a libel on all who had bravely fought the fight, and I
resented it. There are such things as the fortunes of war, and as only one
side can win, it cannot always be the same. However, I soon discovered that
a small number of our burghers did not seem inclined to join in the
prolongation of the struggle. To have forced them to rejoin us would have
served no purpose, so I thought the best policy would be to send them home
on furlough until they had recovered their spirits and their courage. No
doubt the scorn and derision to which they would be subjected by their wives
and sisters would soon induce them to take up arms again and to fulfil the
duties their country required. I therefore requested those who had neither
the courage nor the inclination to return to the front to fall out, and
about thirty men fell back, bowing their heads in shame. They were jeered at
and chaffed by their fellows, the majority of whom had elected to proceed.
But the shock of Elandslaagte had been too much for the weaker brethren, who
seemed deaf to every argument, and only wanted to go home. I gave each of
these a pass to proceed by rail to Johannesburg, which read as follows:—
"Permit..................................... to go to Johannesburg on
account of cowardice, at Government's expense."
They put the permit in their pockets without suspecting its contents, and
departed with their kit to the station to catch the first available train.
The reader will now have formed an idea of the disastrous moral effect of
this defeat, and the subsequent difficulty of getting a commando up to its
original fighting strength. But in spite of this I am proud to say that by
far the greater number of the Johannesburgers were gathered round me and
prepared to march to meet the enemy once more.
My
trap and all its contents had been captured by the enemy at Elandslaagte,
and I found it necessary to obtain new outfits, &c., at Newcastle. This was
no easy matter, as some of the storekeepers had moved the greater part of
their goods to a safer place, while some commandos had appropriated most of
the remainder. What was left had been commandeered by Mr. J. Moodie, a
favourite of General Joubert, who was posing there as Resident Justice of
the Peace; and he did not feel inclined to let any of these goods out of his
possession. By alternately buying and looting, or in other words stealing, I
managed to get an outfit by the next morning, and at break of day we left
for Dannhauser Station, arriving there the same evening without further
noteworthy incident.
Next day, when the Johannesburg corps turned out, we numbered 485 mounted
men, all fully equipped. On arrival at Glencoe Station I received a telegram
from General Joubert informing me that he had defeated the enemy at
Nicholson's Nek near Ladysmith that day (October 30, 1899) taking 1,300
prisoners, who would arrive at Glencoe the following morning. He desired me
to conduct them to Pretoria under a strong escort. What a flattering order!
To conduct prisoners-of-war, taken by other burghers! Were we then fit for
nothing but police duty?
However, orders have to be obeyed, so I sent one of my officers with 40 men
to take the prisoners to Pretoria, and reported to the Commandant-General by
telegram that his order had been executed, also asking for instructions as
to where I was to proceed with my commando. The reply I received was as
follows:—
"Pitch your camp near Dundee, and maintain law and order in the Province,
also aid the Justice of the Peace in forwarding captured goods, ammunition,
provisions, etc., to Pretoria, and see that you are not attacked a second
time."
This was more than flesh and blood could bear; more than a "white man" could
stand. It was not less than a personal insult, which I deeply resented.
Evidently my chief had resolved to keep us in the background; he would not
trust our commando in the fighting line. In short, he would not keep his
word and give us another chance to recoup our losses.
I
had, however, made up my mind, and ordered the commando to march to
Ladysmith. If the General would not have me at the front I should cease to
be an officer. And, although I had no friends of influence who could help me
I resolved to take the bull by the horns, and leave the rest to fate.
On
the 1st November, 1899, we reached the main army near Ladysmith, and I went
at once to tell General Joubert in person that my men wanted to fight, and
not to play policemen in the rear of the army. Having given the order to
dismount I proceeded to Joubert's tent, walked in with as much boldness as
I could muster, and saluted the General, who was fortunately alone. I at
once opened my case, telling him how unfair it was to keep us in the rear,
and that the burghers were loudly protesting against such treatment. This
plea was generally used throughout the campaign when an officer required
something to be granted him. At first the old General was very wrathful. He
said I had disobeyed his orders and that he had a mind to have me shot for
breach of discipline. However, after much storming in his fine bass voice,
he grew calmer, and in stentorian tones ordered me for the time being to
join General Schalk Burger, who was operating near Lombard's Kop in the
siege of Ladysmith.
That same evening I arrived there with my commando and reported myself to
Lieut-General Burger. One of his adjutants, Mr. Joachim Fourie, who
distinguished himself afterwards on repeated occasions and was killed in
action near his house in the Carolina district, showed me a place to laager
in. We pitched our tents on the same spot where a few days before Generals
White and French had been defeated, and there awaited developments.
At
this place the British, during the battle of Nicholson's Nek, had hidden a
large quantity of rifle and gun ammunition in a hole in the ground, covering
it up with grass, which gave it the appearance of a heap of rubbish. One of
the burghers who feared this would be injurious to the health of our men in
camp, set the grass on fire, and this soon penetrated to the ammunition. A
tremendous explosion occurred, and it seemed as if there were a real battle
in progress. From all sides burghers dashed up on horseback to learn where
the fighting was taking place. General Joubert sent an adjutant to enquire
whether the Johannesburgers were now killing each other for a change, and
why I could not keep my men under better control. I asked this gentleman to
be kind enough to see for himself what was taking place, and to tell the
Commandant-General that I could manage well enough to keep my men in order,
but could not be aware of the exact spot where the enemy had chosen to hide
their ammunition.
Meanwhile, it became daily more evident to me how greatly Joubert
depreciated my commando, and that we would have to behave very well and
fight very bravely to regain his favour. Other commandos also seemed to have
no better opinion, and spoke of us as the laager which had to run at
Elandslaagte, forgetting how even General Meyer's huge commando had been
obliged to retreat in the greatest confusion at Dundee. If all the details
of this Dundee engagement were published it would be discovered that it was
a Boer disaster only second to that of Elandslaagte.
We
were now, however, at any rate at the front. I sent out my outposts and
fixed my positions, which were very far from good; but I decided to make no
complaints. We had resolved to do our very best to vindicate our honour, and
to prove that our accusers had no reason to call us either cowards or
good-for-nothings.