About this time President Steyn arrived from the Orange Free State and had
joined President Kruger, and the plan of campaign for the future was
schemed. It was also decided that Mr. Schalk Burger should assume the acting
Presidentship, since Mr. Kruger's advanced age and feeble health did not
permit his risking the hardships attendant on a warlike life on the veldt.
It
was decided Mr. Kruger should go to Europe and Messrs. Steyn and Burger
should move about with their respective commandos. They were younger men and
the railway, would soon have to be abandoned.
We
spent the first weeks of September at Godwan River and Nooitgedacht Station,
near the Delagoa Bay railway, and had a fairly quiet time of it. General
Buller had meanwhile pushed on with his forces via Lydenburg in the
direction of Spitskop and the Sabi, on which General Botha had been
compelled to concentrate himself after falling back, fighting steadily,
while General French threatened Barberton.
I
had expected Pole-Carew to force me off the railway line along which we held
some rather strong positions, and I intended to offer a stout resistance.
But the English general left me severely alone, went over Dwaalheuvel by an
abandoned wagon-track, and crossed the plateau of the mountains, probably to
try and cut us off through the pass near Duivelskantoor. I tried hard, with
the aid of 150 burghers, to thwart his plans and we had some fighting. But
the locality was against us, and the enemy with their great force of
infantry and with the help of their guns forced us to retire.
About the 11th of September I was ordered to fall back along the railway,
via Duivelskantoor and Nelspruit Station, since General Buller was
threatening Nelspruit in the direction of Spitskop, while General French,
with a great force, was nearing Barberton. It appeared extremely likely that
we should be surrounded very soon. We marched through the Godwan River and
over the colossal mountain near Duivelskantoor, destroying the railway
bridges behind us. The road we followed was swamped by the heavy rains and
nearly impassable. Carts were continually being upset, breakdowns were
frequent, and our guns often stuck in the swampy ground. To make matters
worse, a burgher on horseback arrived about midnight to tell us that
Buller's column had taken Nelspruit Station, and cut off our means of
retreat. Yet we had to pass Nelspruit; there was no help for it. I gave
instructions for the waggons and carts (numbering over a hundred), to push
on as quickly as possible, and sent out a strong mounted advance guard to
escort them.
I
myself went out scouting with some burghers, for I wanted to find out before
daybreak whether Nelspruit was really in the hands of the enemy or not. In
that case our carts and guns would have to be destroyed or hidden, while
the commando would have to escape along the footpaths. We crept up to the
station, and just at dawn, when we were only a hundred paces away from it, a
great fire burst out, accompanied by occasional loud reports. This somewhat
reassured me. I soon found our own people to be in possession burning
things, and the detonations were obviously not caused by the bursting of
shells fired from field-pieces. On sending two of my adjutants—Rokzak and
Koos Nel—to the station to obtain further details, they soon came back to
report that there was nobody there except a nervous old Dutchman. The
burgher, who had told me Nelspruit was in the hands of the enemy, must have
dreamt it.
The conflagration I found was caused by a quantity of "kastions" and
ammunition-waggons which had been set afire on the previous day, while the
explosions emanated from the shells which had been left among their
contents.
The enemy's advance guard had pushed on to Shamoham and Sapthorpe, about 12
miles from the railway, enabling the whole of my commando to pass. We
arrived at Nelspruit by eight o'clock. That day we rested and discussed
future operations, feeling that our prospects seemed to grow worse every
day.
The station presented a sad spectacle. Many trucks loaded with victuals,
engines, and burst gun-carriages—everything had been left behind at the
mercy of the first-comer, while a large number of kaffirs were plundering
and stealing. Only the day before the Government had had its seat there, and
how desolate and distressing the sight was now! The traces of a fugitive
Government were unmistakable. Whatever might have been our optimism before,
however little inclination the burghers might have felt to surrender,
however great the firmness of the officers, and their resolve to keep the
beloved "Vierkleur" flying, scenes like those at Nooitgedacht, and again at
Nelspruit, were enough to make even the strongest and most energetic lose
all courage. Many men could not keep back their tears at the disastrous
spectacle, as they thought of the future of our country and of those who
had been true to her to the last.
Kaffirs, as I said, had been making sad havoc among the provisions, clothes
and ammunition, and I ordered them to be driven away. Amongst the many
railway-waggons I found some loaded with clothes the fighting burghers had
in vain and incessantly been asking for, also cannon and cases of rifle
ammunition. We also came across a great quantity of things belonging to our
famous medical commission, sweets, beverages, etc. The suspicion which had
existed for some considerable time against this commission was, therefore,
justified. There was even a carriage which had been used by some of its
members, beautifully decorated, with every possible comfort and luxury, one
compartment being filled with bottles of champagne and valuable wines. My
officers, who were no saints, saw that our men were well provided for out of
these. The remainder of the good things was shifted on to a siding, where
about twenty engines were kept. By great good luck the Government
commissariat stock, consisting of some thousands of sheep, and even some
horses, had also been left behind. But we were not cheered.
Among the many questions asked regarding this sad state of affairs was one
put by an old burger:
"Dat is nou die plan, want zooals zaken hier lyk, dan heeft die boel in
wanhoop gevlug." ("Is that the plan, then? For from what I can see of it,
they have all fled in despair.")
I
answered, "Perhaps they were frightened away, Oom."
"Ja," he said, "but look, General, it seems to me as if our members of the
Government do not intend to continue the war. You can see this by the way
they have now left everything behind for the second time."
"No, old Oom," I replied, "we should not take any notice of this. Our people
are wrestling among the waves of a stormy ocean; the gale is strong, and the
little boat seems upon the point of capsizing, but, it has not gone down as
yet. Now and then the boat is dashed against the rocks and the splinters
fly, but the faithful sailors never lose heart. If they were to do that the
dinghy would soon go under, and the crew would disappear for ever. It would
be the last page of their history, and their children would be strangers in
their own country. You understand, Oom?"
"Yes, General, but I shall not forget to settle up, for I myself and others
with me have had enough of this, and the War has opened our eyes."
"All right, old man." I rejoined, "nobody can prevent you surrendering, but
I have now plenty of work to do; so get along."
Burghers of different commandos who had strayed—some on purpose—passed us
here in groups of two or ten or more. Some of them were going to their own
districts, right through the English lines, others were looking for their
cattle, which they had allowed to stray in order to evade the enemy. I could
only tell them that the veldt between Nelspruit and Barberton up to Avoca,
was, so far as I had been able to discover, full of cattle and waggons
belonging to farmers who now had no chance of escaping. Everybody wanted
some information from the General.
About half a score of burghers with bridle horses then came up. There was
one old burgher among them with a long beard, a great veldt hat, and armed
with a Mauser which seemed hardly to have been used. He carried two belts
with a good stock of cartridges, a revolver, and a tamaai (long sjambok).
This veteran strode up in grand martial style to where I was sitting having
something to eat. As he approached he looked brave enough to rout the whole
British army.
"Dag!"
(Good morning.) "Are you the General?" asked the old man.
"Yes, I have the honour of being called so. Are you a field-marshal, a Texas
Jack, or what?"
"My name is Erasmus, from the Pretoria district," he replied, "and my nine
comrades and myself, with my family and cattle, have gone into the bush. I
saw them all running away, the Government and all. You are close to the
Portuguese border, and my mates and I want to know what your plans are."
"Well," Mr. Erasmus, I returned, "what you say is almost true; but as you
say you and your comrades have been hiding in the bush with your cattle and
your wives, I should like to know if you have ever tried to oppose the enemy
yet, and also what is your right to speak like this."
"Well, I had to flee with my cattle, for you have to live on that as well as
I."
"Right," said I; "what do you want, for I do not feel inclined to talk any
longer."
"I
want to know," he replied, "if you intend to retire, and if there is any
chance of making peace. If not, we will go straight away to Buller, and
'hands-up,' then we shall save all our property."
"Well, my friend," I remarked, "our Government and the Commandant-General
are the people who have to conclude peace, and it is not for you or me, when
our family and cattle are in danger, to surrender to the enemy, which means
turning traitor to your own people."
"Well, yes; good-bye, General, we are moving on now."
I
sent a message to our outposts to watch these fellows, and to see if they
really were going over to the enemy. And, as it happened, that same night my
Boers came to camp with the Mausers and horses Erasmus and his party had
abandoned. They had gone over to Buller.
The above is but an instance illustrating what often came under my notice
during the latter period of my command. This sort of burgher, it turned out,
invariably belonged to a class that never meant to fight. In many cases we
could do better without them, for it was always these people who wanted to
know exactly what was "on the cards," and whenever things turned out
unpleasantly, they only misled and discouraged others. Obviously, we were
better off without them.
