From Onuapadnek our lagers went to
the farm Rietfontein, near Witwatersrandjes, where we celebrated Paardekraal
Day on December 16--under sad circumstances, alas!
Ds. Kriel, who constantly
accompanied us in the most self-denying manner, in all our battles and on
all our long journeys, led us in prayer that day. Halfway up the kopje,
which we climbed in most solemn earnest, he offered up a prayer to God, and
then impressed upon us the importance of the occasion. On the top of the
kopje he held a short service. It reminded me of that which my own father
held for the assembled burghers at Paardekraal in 1880. How true and
faithful he was in his position as preacher to the fighting men, and how
well he served his adopted country!
After General De la Rey, Smuts,
Kemp, and Mr. Naude had all addressed us, Ds. Kriel read out a document in
which was expressed, in a few words, the purpose each one of us should
attach to his contribution of a stone towards the monument to be erected
there. He exhorted the burghers not to add a stone to the pile unless they
fully understood and were in earnest about its meaning. So the old covenant
was renewed in a different place under different circumstances and in a
different manner from the Paardekraal Day of former years, and when the
burghers descended from the kopje they were strengthened by the renewing of
an ancient pledge in their resolution to fight to the last for their country
and their people.
The place where the monument was
erected was called Ebenhaezer.
Between the Magalies Mountains and
the Witwatersranden stretches a long valley called the Moat. In the centre
runs a gray ridge or rand, parallel to the mountains, and rising into kopjes
to the east, near Hekpoort. Thither our commando moved a few days later to
meet the enemy, who were approaching from Commandonek, most probably with
revengeful intentions. The Moat was well provided with corn, and asked for
our protection. We stayed over a day on the gray ridge. When the enemy
advanced towards us on the day following, General De la Rey had taken up his
position near Nooitgedacht, and so formed the left wing. Commandant Kemp,
with his men, was at the south on the foot of the ridge, and Veld-Kornet van
Tender, with a small troop of Zoutpansbergers, was on the first kopje, while
General Beyers, with the Waterbergers and Zoutpansbergers held the right
wing to the west of Hekpoort, in Witwatersrand. The whole of that forenoon
the enemy were ready to attack us, and we waited calmly. Towards afternoon
their left wing moved towards the first kopje, beyond the reach of the
Zoutpansbergers, who were on the Witwatersranden near Hekpoort. They began
firing at the position of Veld-Kornet Van Tonder, and when he fell mortally
wounded his Zoutpansbergers were obliged to retire from the kopje.
Our Veld-Kornet, Kruger, a fine,
brave fellow, then led twenty-five of our men towards Hekpoort, to try and
stop the enemy in their forward movement. As Malherbe, my brother, and I
were among the twenty-five, I cannot tell what happened to De la Rey on the
other side of the gray ridge. We pressed too far forward, and soon had to
retreat some distance. Our Veld-Kornet stayed behind with a few of us, on a
small rise, while our horses were taken some 300 paces further back, and the
rest of our little troop rode in the direction of Hekpoort. The enemy
already occupied the first kopje, and were firing at us from a distance. We
quickly made an entrenchment of stones and lay waiting. But our people were
retreating from the other kopjes, and we had to get to our horses as quickly
as possible. A few cowardly burghers on the ridge took us for khakies and
fired at us. Then I experienced the difference between the aim of Boer and
khaki. The latter's bullets always flew far above our heads, but the
former's fell terribly close to us.
As yet we had retired in good order,
but soon we fled in a panic. The enemy had come from Krugersdorp in very
large numbers, and already occupied the high Witwatersranden behind us.
Whoever has an incapable horse had
better hide in a ditch or behind a wall along with the poor, frightened
women. More than once I have seen poor frightened women holding their crying
children by the hand, and seeking a hiding-place near their houses during a
battle. It is indeed a tragic sight!--we men, with our weapons in our hands,
not able to defend them at such a time. And then a great feeling of shame
came upon us. These same women had only the day before called down God's
blessing upon us, and now they cried to us to hurry, or we would be
surrounded.
We rode at a flying gallop for fully
half an hour--along the Magalies Mountains, between the Witwatersranden and
the many smaller banks, while to the left the enemy were descending and
firing at us. The Waterbergers and Zoutpansbergers, who learnt later than we
did that the enemy were surrounding us, would all have been taken prisoners
had they not forced their way bravely through thick and thin. As far as we
can tell, our loss was, fortunately, only one killed.
At the Manharen, a peculiar kind of
kopje, we halted, but had to retreat further towards evening.
Beyers' commando moved in the
direction of Gatsrand, but had to turn to Zwartruggens, near Rustenburg,
when it reached the farm Modderfontein, where we celebrated Christmas. The
enemy was constantly at our heels, and made things hot for us; we often had
to hurry most inconveniently not to be surrounded or cut off. We got a few
days' rest on the farm Vlakhoek. We were camped near a small stream, and
went from there to the different farms in search of the first fruit of the
season.
On New Year's Eve General Beyers'
commando moved on the wide hard Krugersdorp road. The bullock waggon lager
had been left behind, as it prevented us from moving as quickly as was
sometimes necessary. The burghers still longed to attack Krugersdorp, and on
New Year's Eve, as we moved fast in the direction of the town, our hearts
were cheered by the thought of Jameson's failure, when five years ago he
passed along the same road in his notorious Raid. We all hoped to add an
immortal page to the annals of our history on the following New Year's Day.
But we were sadly disappointed in our expectations. The Jameson Raid was not
avenged, and we celebrated New Year's Day calmly and peacefully at
Cyferbult, on Pretorius' farm, with milie-pap (maize meal porridge) and beef
and--green fruit!
Whenever we came to a farm we ate as
much green fruit as possible by way of a change in our diet. On other
occasions it would have been very bad for us, but now it seemed to have a
very wholesome effect. As we moved on past Zwartkop over the Krokodil River
in the direction of the railway, we realized that there was no chance of
attacking Krugersdorp for the present, for General Beyers had apparently
changed his plans. We were quite sure that it had originally been his
intention, and some of our officers talked of the attack on the town as if
it were an open secret.
Our capable Veld-Kornet, Kruger, had
remained behind at Zwartkop to get the burghers of Wyk III. Krugersdorp from
out of their hiding-places, as the Generals wanted to concentrate all the
small bands for some great undertaking. We joined Wyk I. Krugersdorp under
Veld-Kornet Klaassen.
Near Hekpoort, as we were camped at
Dwarsvlei, we attacked a convoy of the enemy in the valley, and very nearly
captured it before it was reinforced. I was not present, so cannot give any
account of the battle. After a sharp trek of more than one night, we crossed
the rails between Kaalfontein and Zuurfontein Stations, just before sunrise
one morning towards the middle of January. We captured a few guards who
seemed to know nothing of our movements. Why General Beyers did not surprise
one or both stations that morning early is still a mystery to us, as our
movements were remarkably quick. It could not have been because he thought
us too tired, for some twenty minutes further on, while we were resting on a
farm, he ordered part of our lager to turn to the left and attack
Kaalfontein Station.
Our corporal was unwilling to work
us and our horses to death, so he first got breakfast ready. But when our
cannon began to roar and Corporal Botman, who still limped from a wound,
rode off without a word in his own peculiar way, our conscience began to
trouble us, and several of our men followed him. My brother, whose horse's
back was chafed, remained in the lager with the rest of the burghers.
When we reached our guns, we
immediately saw that the station could be taken only at the cost of many
lives--more than the success would be worth. Our guns had not the desired
effect, and we should have had to charge across an open space without any
cover. The enemy had no guns. They say our left wing very nearly succeeded
in taking a small fort near the station, but I cannot give any particulars,
for our Veld-Kornet rode with a small troop of burghers to the right of the
station, and took another small fort which the enemy had abandoned because
it was too far away from the station. What might have been expected
happened. Towards afternoon an armoured train came from Pretoria, and
reinforcements arrived from Johannesburg and scattered our left wing over
the valley. I happened to be with a few others on the outmost point of the
right wing of attack--or, rather, since the scene was changed, of the left
wing of flight. And as we were retreating at our ease an old man galloped
towards us and pointed out that we were retreating in the wrong direction,
as the enemy had captured our whole lager. He had never in his life seen so
many khakies. They seemed to be on all sides of us. The only outlet for us
was in the direction of Heidelberg. I asked him, 'Uncle, are you sure that
our lager is in the hands of the khakies?' to which he answered, 'Nephew, I
saw with my own eyes how they rode up to the waggons and made all our people
"hands up!"' and he continued to give us a minute description of the
occurrence.
If we had been greenhorns, we would
have blindly followed the startled old man right through the stream of
retreating burghers and exploding 15-pounders. But, fortunately, the war had
taught us, and we moved on _with_ the stream, but a little more to the left,
and, I cannot deny it, with a feeling of great anxiety as to what was to
become of us if the old man had indeed told the truth.
Fortunately, it appeared that fright
had made the old man believe his own imagination, and the lager was quite
safe. My brother told me that the slight attack made upon them by the enemy
was easily beaten off.
The opinion of the majority was that
we should have left Kaalfontein Station alone. We were thoroughly exhausted
by our rapid journeys, particularly by the journey of the preceding night,
and besides that the burghers were unwilling to make an attack of which they
did not see the advantage. We had several killed and wounded.
The consequence was that we had to
trek that night in a way that none of us will ever forget, to get beyond the
reach of the enemy. One cannot imagine how terrible it is to sit for hours
on horseback, dead tired and overcome by sleep. We did not even guide our
horses; they simply jogged along mechanically, too tired even to object to
ill-treatment. Our hands rested on the bows of the saddles, and as we sat
leaning forwards, apparently lost in thought, but in reality suffering
tortures from the effort to keep awake, we forced ourselves to look up and
about us, but our eyes half closed in the effort, and everything about us
took a strange shape, and the sky became chaos; with a nod we half awoke,
only to dream again a second later that we were falling from our horses.
Not a word was spoken, for everyone
was dozing. Whenever we had to wait for our guns or waggons, we simply flung
ourselves on the grass with one arm through our bridles, and soon we were
unconscious of the pulling and tugging of the horse, and if the order to
mount woke us up, the tugging had ceased, and our horses were calmly grazing
some distance from us. Then we lifted our bodies, loaded with cartridges and
guns, into the saddle at the risk of toppling over on the other side, like a
lizard sliding down a bank, and rode on in silence, drowsily and top-heavy.
