Chapter I: Part 1

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

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.”

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.

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.