the wished-for positions. For miles and miles the country is just
     one vast plain; when you get to the end of that plain you may find
     a ridge, a hill or slight elevation, which, however, did not
     signify much. The enemy could easily outflank and surround us, if
     we did not abandon it in time. With eyelids "heavy and dim," and
     bodies "weary and worn," exposed to the dazzling rays of a burning
     sun, we rode on, driven occasionally as a herd of cattle. At last
     night fell and we could enjoy a short rest.

     "The next morning the same story was repeated: the English hot on
     our track--no rest for body or soul. The country being as flat as
     the part we had traversed the previous day, we had to march again
     the whole day under a burning sun. Now and then we dismounted for a
     few minutes, in order that our horses might snatch a few mouthfuls
     of grass.

     "At the hour of sunset there was something to relieve the monotony
     of fleeing all day. Two burghers--bread spies as we call them--had
     gone ahead to buy some bread at a farm where a party of the enemy
     was stationed. Not aware of that, they rode up to the house, with
     the result that one got captured, while the other returned under a
     hail of bullets at a breakneck pace to relate the fate of his
     comrade. De Wet immediately sent in a note asking the enemy to
     surrender, since they numbered only about twenty. They answered
     shortly: 'We won't.' They were then charged, and up went the white
     flag without their firing a single shot.

     "For the night we bivouacked at that farm. The British columns were
     now scarcely four miles from us. We dreaded a night attack, but,
     owing to incessant rain, both parties seemed only too glad to stay
     where they were. Here we had the advantage of hills and ridges,
     where we could stand and face the foe.

     "At sunrise the enemy's guns and Maxim-Nordenveldt began to play on
     these ridges. Our guns had been placed in position, too, and
     responded sharply. We succeeded in beating off the enemy's attacks
     till 11 A.M., then we were outflanked and had to evacuate our
     positions. Their losses must have been great. Two of our men fell
     in the action.

     "From there we marched in the direction of the railway line, which
     we intended to cross that night near Houtkraal station. We were
     about seven miles from the line, and were very anxious to pass
     over. We were afraid that the English would send on their forces by
     rail to guard the line and march upon us from in front, which, if
     done, could result in our complete annihilation. Besides, we
     intended, as soon as we were on the other side of the line, to
     divide our force into several commandoes and let these take
     different courses so that the enemy would not be able to
     concentrate any longer all their men on us. Thus wearily we dragged
     on through mud and rain to the line.

     "To prevent armoured trains from cutting off our transit, men were
     sent ahead to destroy the line at two points. Here again we
     committed a few blunders for which we had to suffer. In the first
     instance the line was blown up at too early an hour that night,
     long before we were ready to pass over. The explosions reported our
     presence, and the armoured trains were despatched to restore the
     line. Then again, owing to the darkness the points where the line
     was destroyed were not sufficiently far apart. This we discovered
     when the enemy's guns began to roar and their shells exploded in
     our midst.

     "Before reaching the line there was something to get through--a
     swamp at least 1500 paces broad. One can hardly have an idea what
     this swamp was like, and how much trouble it cost us and our poor
     animals to get through it. This was a veritable 'Slough of
     Despond.' It was covered with water from one side to the other, and
     we had to wade through knee deep, and sometimes the water reached
     to our loins. The water was no serious obstacle, but the ground was
     of a morass-like nature that our animals sank in to their knees and
     often to their girths. Most of the burghers had to dismount and
     lead their horses. Every now and then a horse would stumble, and
     down came the rider splashing in the mud and water. I led my
     faithful 'Klein Booi' all the way, walking knee deep through mud
     and water. Just think how we must have looked the following
     morning, with clogs of mud attached to our clothes, hands and
     faces, while our horses were baptised in mud! The waggons and guns
     gave us most trouble. It was quite impossible to get these through
     the swamp. They stuck in the mud, with draft animals and all. We
     had as many as fifty oxen before one waggon, but they could not
     move it an inch. Some mules sank in so deep that they could not
     extricate themselves, and were left to die in the mud!

     "At daybreak the guns, De Wet's waggonette and a few carts were
     through the swamp; the rest of the convoy was still in it. General
     Fourie and a hundred burghers were left with the waggons while the
     commando proceeded to the line. At sunrise we were safely on the
     other side of the line, where we waited for Fourie. Suddenly, and
     very unexpectedly, a shell exploded in our midst, like a
     thunderbolt from a clear sky. I looked about to see whence it came;
     but before my eyes detected the armoured trains, another and yet
     another shell dropped in our midst. I say _in our midst_, for we
     were riding in close formation when these horrible projectiles were
     hurled upon us. As our horses were very tired and the veldt soaked
     through and through by the heavy rains, we could not scatter, nor
     ride fast, as we usually do when exposed to cannon fire in the open
     veldt. Thus slowly we rode on under this cannonade. And how
     wonderful none were injured! The hand of the invisible omnipresent
     God must have shielded us. At last we were out of the cannon's
     reach. Meanwhile the line had been repaired, the armoured trains
     moved freely up and down. Fourie, five other officers, and about a
     hundred burghers were now cut off from the commando. The burghers
     found their way back to the Free State; the officers followed us
     up, but, alas! met us only when we were on the point of recrossing
     the Orange River.

     "In what a sorry plight we now were! Some of our ablest officers
     severed from us at a time when they were most needed. Their absence
     caused the greatest confusion, for now there were numbers of men
     without any officers. Besides, it was then impossible to carry out
     the idea of splitting up the commando without officers. Hence we
     were to be driven along by the overwhelming numbers at our rear.
     How many there were is hard to tell, but we caught up some of their
     despatches, from which we learnt that there were no fewer than
     fourteen columns in pursuit of us.

     "Gradually we drifted into the most deplorable and wretched
     conditions. Our animals, owing to lack of fodder, began to give in.
     Scores of these we had to leave behind, some of them in excellent
     condition, but so starved that they could proceed no farther. The
     result was that hundreds of burghers had to walk, and they suffered
     most. How I felt for these unfortunates! They walked and walked
     until, exhausted and footsore, many a one dropped down along the
     road-side. There were those whose clothes were torn to fragments by
     the brambles through which they forced their way. They presented an
     appearance which evoked one's compassion.

     "These men had to confront another enemy--hunger. They scarcely
     found time to prepare a meal, for when they arrived at the
     halting-place the first word they heard was, as a rule, "opzaal!"
     Thus footsore, battered, and with empty stomachs, these fellows had
     to march for miles and miles to escape the enemy's grip.

     "I admired their power of endurance, patience, and determination.
     But admiration was not enough. I parted with all my horses, giving
     them to men who could walk no longer, and so walked on myself,
     until, footsore and exhausted, I too could go no farther. It was a
     pleasure to minister in this way to men who loved their country.

     "If it were not for this determination on the part of De Wet's
     forces to keep out of the hands of the enemy, hundreds would have
     been captured, yet I believe not more than 250 prisoners were
     taken. As we went on our numbers gradually diminished. Those who
     were unable to keep pace with the main body broke off in small
     parties and found their way back to the Orange Free State.

     "By the 19th we had pushed on as far as Brak River, about twelve
     miles from Prieska. Here we met with another disappointment, which
     almost proved fatal to our whole commando. The river was in flood
     and no transit possible. In what a dreadful plight we were! Hardly
     eight miles behind us the British columns were stationed in
     crescent shape; in front was the swollen Brak River, and nine miles
     to our right was the Orange River, and that in flood. Here at least
     it seemed as if De Wet would be caught, and though he escaped, this
     certainly was one of the tightest corners in which he ever found
     himself.

     "About two hours before sunset we heard that the enemy was rapidly
     approaching us. Anxiously we asked ourselves, Whither now? We could
     not return, we could not ford the river; to proceed up-stream would
     expose us to the risk of being quartered against the river. There
     was but one course to follow, and that an extremely hazardous one.
     We could march down the Brak River as far as the Orange River, and
     then proceed along the latter. Between us and the enemy there was
     then a ridge, extending parallel with the Orange River. Behind this
     ridge we would be out of the enemy's view. Should they reach this
     elevation before it was dark, we would be pressed, with fatal
     consequences to ourselves, against a swollen river. But here
     darkness proved our salvation once more. We proceeded down the Brak
     River and up the Orange River. When the enemy came to the ridge
     mentioned it was so dark that they could see no traces of us.

     "De Wet had now decided to fall back on the Orange Free State. To
     many of us this was a bitter disappointment; but we saw that
     nothing else could be done under the circumstances. With tired
     horses and many burghers on foot we could not hope to circumvent
     the enemy. Others, especially those who had suffered most in
     walking, were enraptured at the idea of going back to the Free
     State. Their drooping spirits revived, and with renewed courage
     they started on the homeward march.

     "The whole of that night we trekked along the banks of the Orange
     River, parallel to the British columns. We tried one ford after the
     other, but to our dismay the stream was impassable. The following
     day we were not only behind the enemy, but had outstripped them by
     nine miles. To gain more on them we kept up the march almost
     unbroken the whole day. And what a day it was! We had to walk from
     twelve to fifteen miles without a drop of water. Once we came to a
     forsaken well. The water was of a greenish hue, bitter and
     stagnant--a real Marah--but we drank to quench our thirst and
     moisten our parched lips.

     "On the 22nd we had proceeded to a point six miles beyond the
     confluence of the Vaal and Orange Rivers. Here we found a small
     boat, and began at once to transport the dismounts. We knew that
     these, once across the river, would be in a safer position. Day and
     night we were engaged in taking these over; but the work progressed
     very slowly, for the boat could only take ten or twelve men at a
     time, and, besides, was so leaky that two had constantly to throw
     out the water. After 250 men had been ferried across the stream the
     approach of the enemy was announced, and so near were they that
     some of us had to depart in an almost half-naked state. About 80
     burghers had to hide in the river until the storm was over. Almost
     all the vehicles were left behind while the main force retreated up
     the river.

     "Fortune favoured me; I was among the lucky ones who found a seat
     in the boat as she was returning for the last time. Willie Louw and
     myself were appointed to supervise the boat, less the transport of
     the men be retarded in some way or other. For some time we worked
     together, and then Willie left me to manage alone. Though I was
     anxious to cross myself, I could not then leave the boat. When the
     report of the enemy reached us the burghers, eager to get through,
     stormed the boat from all directions. They forgot that if all want
     to get into the boat nobody will get across the river. What must be
     done? As there was no time for much deliberation I jumped in and
     expostulated with an excited crowd. None heeded, each pressed
     forward to get a place in the boat. I was finally compelled to
     threaten them with my revolver, but all in vain. No one was afraid.
     I believe they knew too well that I would not pull the trigger. One
     looked me straight in the face as I pointed the instrument to him
     and said, 'My dear fellow, you may shoot if you wish--I am not
     afraid; but I want to get through.' He completely disarmed me. I
     had no more threats.

     "With an overcrowded boat we were at last on the stream, and
     finally reached the opposite bank, just as the enemy was beginning
     to shell De Wet's forces on the other side. It was indeed a relief
     to me, but we had to march another fifteen miles without water,
     exposed to scorching heat. At length we found some muddy water.
     Lying next to our horses we sipped up water so thick and muddy that
     we could hardly swallow it.

     "As to De Wet's further movements I can hardly give you full
     particulars. He was followed up by the enemy, and had to abandon
     his guns the following day. Trying one drift after the other he
     succeeded at last in fording the river between Norval's Pont and
     Zanddrift; and so after seventeen days he was back in the Free
     State.

     "Here you have a sketch of our attempt to invade British dominions.
     I have omitted many things of less interest. I wonder what you will
     think of all this. Looking back upon our adventures, it is, of
     course, easy to point out all the errors and blunders we have
     committed. We should, for instance, never have encumbered ourselves
     with a convoy and guns, which hampered our movements and were of
     very little service to us. Then again, we should not have crossed
     the river in one commando, but should have divided the force into
     at least twelve or fifteen commandoes, and these should have
     entered the Colony at different points, all moving in different
     directions, then the enemy could not have concentrated their hosts
     on us as they did. Besides, our discipline and organisation was
     poor, and it is a well-known fact that a thousand in disorder can
     accomplish less than two hundred well-organised men. But it is
     useless to dwell on these points. 'Tis easier to criticize the past
     than to forecast the future. Experience costs a great deal.

     "Has our attempt been a complete failure? In many respects I should
     say it has. We have succeeded, however, in drawing the enemy out of
     the Free State, which was our chief object. And, though it did not
     cost them many lives, yet their following us in such desolate
     regions must have proved very expensive, and must have been a
     source of great hardship to themselves. If that be a consolation to
     know that we have not suffered alone, we have, then, at least one
     comfort.

     "Brak River was the last nail in our coffin. If we only could have
     forded that, we would not have been ousted. On the other side of
     the river we would have found not only grass for our tired horses,
     but would also have been able to find remounts. Hertzog's commando
     was not far off, and they were strongly mounted, and could have
     rendered us great assistance.

     "The president, who accompanied us, remained cheerful to the last,
     and, just as a common burgher, partook in all our troubles. Such a
     man we may well be proud of, and, I need hardly say, that we love
     and honour him all the more.

     "As to the conduct of the burghers we need only remark that it was
     beyond praise. One never heard them grumble or murmur either
     against De Wet or any other officer. No rebellious complaints or
     threats were flung at the heads of those in authority. This,
     indeed, is typical of the Boer. He endures suffering and hardship
     with a submissive spirit and with a dignity which is remarkable. We
     do not marvel at this, for are they not formed of that stuff of
     which martyrs have been made in bygone years? And does not the
     blood of the French Huguenot course through the veins of many a
     one, while others are animated by the dauntless spirit of that
     little nation that combated the once mighty Spain for eighty years,
     and so achieved that honour and distinction which has secured for
     them an abiding place in the history of nations? Such men, who are
     willing to suffer and sacrifice all for freedom's sake, surely
     deserve to succeed at last.--Yours fondly,

     "R.D. MCDONALD."

CHAPTER VI.

WOUNDED.

During the first days of August, 1901, the enemy seemed more determined
than ever to effect my capture, or sweep me out of the Cape Colony, Very
large forces concentrated on my commando, and pressed us so hard that
our only safety lay in retreating to the Orange Free State. So hot was
the pursuit that for forty-eight hours our horses were not once
off-saddled.

On the 14th we arrived on the banks of the Orange River, near to
Venterstad. We found the drift guarded by a small garrison of Hottentots
that offered slight resistance. After a short skirmish they surrendered,
and we waded safely through the stream. We were again on Free State
soil, in our native land, where we knew almost every inch of the
country.

Fording the river brought us no immediate relief; it rather increased
our dangers. For we were now between two railway lines, each strongly
guarded by blockhouses, while the space between the two lines was so
confined and limited, that (with columns at our rear) we could not
venture to delay there a day or two. So we had to cross one of these
lines the same night. We decided upon the Springfontein-Bethulie line
and thither directed our steps.

At about 8 A.M. we came in sight of the line, at a point six miles from
Springfontein Junction. The sun had already risen. It was a bright
morning, but our prospects were dark and ominous. We were confronted by
a line studded with blockhouses and fenced in on both sides, while two
armoured trains were belching forth clouds of steam and smoke in the
distance. Behind us, and not far to our rear, the British columns were
drawing nearer. We could but choose between two alternatives--surrender,
or cut the wire at any cost. The former we could hardly give a thought;
the latter must be done, and was successfully executed.

Our first attempt failed. The burghers, who had no cover, retreated when
fire was opened upon them from the blockhouses. We fell back to a small
hill not far from the line, and there we made up our minds that we
_shall_ cross. Commandant Louis Wessels--certainly one of the most
intrepid and fearless officers of the whole Boer Army--made direct for
the two railway gates, near which a blockhouse had been erected. These
gates he opened, so that the burghers could proceed without any
obstruction. Then in the face of blockhouses on every side, guards and
armoured trains, we passed over the line. We were exposed to a shower of
bullets, and to a terrific pom-pom fire, from the armoured train, but,
to our amazement, without any effect. But for a few horses shot down, we
would have achieved our object without any losses. The men marvelled and
said Providence had protected them; the enemy probably attributed it to
ill-luck and bad shooting. Both may be correct.

While passing over the line one of the men, accidentally or out of
fright, had dropped and left his gun behind. He was ordered back, and
had to pick it up under a storm of bullets. We could not afford to leave
rifles behind. This was my first experience in crossing the British
lines in daytime. Some time later I was to have a similar experience,
which, as far as my person was concerned, proved less successful,
indeed, almost fatal.

In regard to the blockhouse system, we need only make these general
remarks. The blockhouses along the railway and fighting lines of the
British, as well as in and round garrisoned places, played a most
prominent part in bringing the war to an end. It was at all times
difficult and dangerous to attack them; and to force their occupants to
surrender involved greater loss of life on our part than we could
prudently face. The only way we could destroy them was to approach them
as near as possible during the night, and locate a dynamite bomb on or
near them. In this way some of them have been blown up. It seems a
barbarous process, but is not war, at its very best, barbarous, brutal,
and unbefitting civilized nations?

As a means of capturing the burghers, they were a failure. Our
commandoes, when driven against them, always had sufficient pluck and
courage to cut the wires between them, and so they crossed the lines at
almost any point they pleased. That we _have_ crossed and recrossed them
frequently is proof enough that they were, in this respect, not a
success. The barbed wire fences, however complicated, were easily cut.

As a means of capturing the women and children, and especially the
cattle, sheep and horses, they served the purpose well. It was almost
impossible to drive a flock of sheep or a herd of cattle, not to mention
horses, over these lines during the day. The women with the old and aged
would retreat with the cattle and sheep until they came in touch with
the blockhouses, and were then often captured, one and all.

If it had not been for these little shanties all over the two republics,
it would have taken the British forces double if not treble the time to
have so thoroughly exhausted the late republics of food supplies. When
the republics were cut up into so many small sections it became
impossible to protect our foodstuffs.

From the railway line we went to Rouxville district, where we enjoyed a
rest of ten days. But on the 1st of September the enemy came in large
numbers and till the 22nd of October harassed us almost daily.

As I was anxious to return to the commandoes I left behind in the Cape
Colony, I thought it feasible to cross the fighting line, and take my
commando to Ladybrand district, where the enemy would probably leave us
unmolested for a while, and where the veldt provided ample food for our
horses. Thither we directed our steps, and for a month we saw no signs
of the British.

On the 23rd of November we were again south of the
Bloemfontein-Ladybrand fighting line, and on our way to the Cape
Colony. My first intention was to ford the Orange River near Aliwal
North, but I soon realised that we would be incurring too great a risk
in trying to cross the river there, for about twenty or twenty-five
columns were then sweeping the southern districts of the Orange Free
State. Now if the river was in flood these columns could press us
against it, and we would then be in an awful predicament. So I resolved
to cut the wire of the main line near Springfontein Junction, and from
there march in the direction of Zanddrift, west of Philippolis.

Before that could be accomplished we had to beat our track through the
columns already mentioned. And what a hearty reception they gave us! In
one day we had to pass no fewer than eleven of these. And they _did_
lift us up--so much so that we scarcely lighted on the ground. Even now
I wonder how we contrived to escape these columns. We were fortunately
provided with a number of picked horses, to which we must largely
ascribe our salvation.

In what a dreadful state we found the country east of the lines! It
resembled more a howling wilderness, a haunt of wild beasts, than an
habitation of human beings. It was cleared of all stock; no living
thing, and not a single burgher of other commandoes came in view. So
thoroughly was the country cleared of all necessaries of life, that for
six days we had to subsist on corn, coffee, and honey found in the
mountains, for the bee-hives at the farms were all destroyed. On the 7th
day, having cut the wire near Springfontein, we found large numbers of
springbucks in Fauresmith district, and though our supply of ammunition
was very limited, we could still afford to spare as many cartridges as
would provide sufficient food for men reduced to starvation's point.

On the 15th of December we arrived at the river, and were ready to
intrude once more upon British territory. During the day the river was
carefully reconnoitred, so as to ascertain the best place to ford it. At
nightfall we headed for it, and at 9 P.M. the commando was on its banks.
In deep silence lest the guards woke up on the other side, and shielded
by the wings of darkness, we began to ford the stream. Heavy rains had
fallen higher up the river, in consequence of which the stream was so
swollen that our horses had to swim about 150 yards. The men who could
not swim had to rely exclusively on their horses, and clung to these for
all life was worth. It was a very dark night, and as we only spoke in
whispers, we succeeded in crossing the river, unobserved by the
sentinels or guards, purposely stationed there to prevent our entering
the Cape Colony. We were wet to the skin, six of the men were without
clothes, some lost their horses, and others their rifles and bandoliers,
but none their lives. We were indeed glad that we had attained our
object. But we did not know what was in store for us.

At dawn we left the river, and moving southwards we soon encountered the
enemy not far from the river. From early in the morning till late in the
afternoon we were engaged by the enemy. At sunset we could off-saddle
and rest our tired horses for a short while, and a hasty meal was
prepared.

At dusk we mounted again, and rode till 11.30 that evening, to get some
fodder. We arrived at a farm at midnight, but unfortunately it was
already occupied by the enemy. We had no sooner fastened our horses and
were lying down to rest, when the enemy began firing at us. We resaddled
at once, and left the farm as quickly and quietly as possible. One of
the burghers was wounded in the arm, the rest came out unhurt.

We now went in search of another farm, for it was a necessity that our
horses should get some fodder. The night was very dark, and, being
unacquainted with that part of the country, we began wandering, and we
_did_ wander until the guide and most of the men were asleep on their
horses--wandered till we had described a circle and found ourselves,
after a three hours' ride, almost at the very farm we had left that
night. If it had not been for the flickering lights of the enemy's
camp-fires, we should not have known where we were, and certainly would
have been quite close to them the next morning. When we saw these
lights, hardly three miles away, _then_ we woke up.

I then took the lead, and brought the commando to the farm we were in
search of.

At sunrise we arrived there, off-saddled, and gave our horses fodder.
The pickets were put out, and breakfast was prepared. But, alas! before
we could eat, the enemy was upon us, and our intended feast was
converted into a prolonged fast. So near was the foe, and so rapidly did
they advance, that we had scarcely time to saddle and seize the nearest
ridges. If it had not been for the marvellous celerity of the Boer, many
of the men would have been captured at that farm.

This was the 16th of December, 1901. The day I never shall forget in my
life's history, and in the history of the Anglo-Boer War. The sun rose
in splendour that morning, casting his rays upon me--a man in the prime
of life, full of energy and martial ambition. At eventide the scene was
changed! Weary, wounded and bleeding on a lonely plain, shrouded in
darkness, I lay, no more the man of the day, or of bygone days, but weak
and helpless as a babe.

Though I had taken part in many hot engagements, both as burgher and
commander, and had been in many tight corners, yet I do not recollect a
day in which we were so brought to bay, when we were so hard pressed as
that day. Early in the morning it was evident that the enemy had but one
design that day, and that was to force me to surrender. My commando was
about eighty strong. On my flanks were continually two British columns,
whilst a third one was following up at my rear. With such a small number
of men at my disposal, and three columns to oppose, it was next to
impossible to offer successful resistance. We had hardly taken up a
position when the flanking columns would come round, and we had either
to abandon the position or allow ourselves to be shut in. Thus we were
compelled to retreat from one to another position, under the rays of a
December sun, which seemed to set everything on fire, through a country
so parched and dry that one hardly found a drop of water to quench one's
thirst, and that from early morn till sunset without a morsel of food!
That was enough to break down the strongest man.

A little before sunset the ominous Cape Railway line stared us in the
face. We were again precisely in the same plight as on the 15th of
August, when we had to cut the wire near Springfontein Junction, only
with this difference--that the danger was much more imminent, the enemy
forming a semi-circle at my back, and before me was a line more strongly
fenced and better guarded than the first. But happily the armoured train
was not on the scene. As we were so successful in our first undertaking,
we determined to pass the enemy's line again in daylight. In fine, we
had to cut the wire or surrender. The latter was more repulsive than the
former.

As my commando was now very near the line, there was not a moment to
lose. The enemy was advancing swiftly, and the armoured train might
appear at any time. Commandant Louis Wessels, Veldt Cornet Fraser,
Landman and myself proceeded with the utmost speed ahead of the commando
to cut the wire, in order that the progress of the commando should not
be impeded in the least.

As we approached the line a sharp cross-fire from the blockhouses was
directed against us; but we all reached the fence safely and began
cutting the wire as quickly as possible.

The enemy, knowing only too well who were trying to cut the wire, poured
volley after volley upon us. The bullets seemed to strike everywhere and
everything but ourselves. Let the reader imagine himself exposed to such
a fire, between two forts about 800 yards apart on a level track of
ground, and forming there in the centre a target for rifles, and he will
realise, to some extent, our situation at that moment. But this was not
all. To intensify our peril we met with thick steel wire which the
scissors refused to cut. We were delayed; the whole commando arrived,
and was checked by this wire.

What an embarrassment! I ordered the men to spread, dismount, and fire
at the blockhouses until we had done the cutting. This was promptly
done. Having, been exposed to the enemy's fire for some minutes, we
succeeded at last in cutting that wire also. I then signalled the men
to pass. And once more the incredible occurred. On a plain between
blockhouses 800 yards apart, exposed to an incessant cross-fire, all the
burghers passed the line, in broad daylight, without receiving so much
as a scratch. Some horses were shot down, others were wounded, but the
men crossed safely. Some distance from the line Lieutenant Bolding was
wounded mortally.

I waited at the line till all, with the exception of eight or ten whose
horses had given in, were over and then followed the commando. But
looking back once more, I beheld one of my men trudging on foot across
the line. At once I decided to go back and lend him a helping hand. I
rode back, and was again exposed to the same fire from which we had just
escaped. This time there was to be no escape. While returning, one of my
officers--Fraser--who saw me going back, came to volunteer his services.
He would not have me exposed to the enemy's fire, and urged me to go
back immediately--he would see to the burgher.

Accepting his generous offer, I rode back. But no sooner had I turned my
horse, than I felt a shock. In the twinkling of an eye a bullet had
passed through the muscles of my left arm and through my lungs, missing
the heart by a mere hair-breadth. It happened all so suddenly that for
the first few seconds I hardly knew that I was wounded. I remained in
the saddle for a time, until some of the men could attend to me. Gently
they took me from my horse, placed me in a blanket, and carried me along
to a safe spot.

It was now eventide, the shadows were deepening, and darkness was hiding
us from the vision of the foe. At first I was determined to accompany
the commando some distance from the line to a place where I could safely
remain till recovered. I, however, soon realised the serious nature of
the wound, and that if it were not well attended to, mortification was
sure to set in, and that would cost me my life. The men too considered
it absolutely impossible for me to accompany them any longer, and deemed
it advisable that I should be sent into the British hospital for medical
treatment.

And then came the _parting_ moment, the moment when I had to bid adieu
to the men whom I had led, and with whom I had fought against our common
foe for so long a time. In the life of every man there comes a day, an
hour, or even a moment, which he never can forget. That parting moment,
reader, was one in my life I never shall forget. My officers, adjutants,
secretary, and some other burghers gathered round me for the last time
as I sat on the ground supported by one of them. As they bade me
farewell--yea, perhaps for ever--the tear-drops sparkled in their eyes,
and gushed down their cheeks. Yes, we all did weep and shed tears of
deep sorrow--tears not such as "angels weep," but such as men can weep
who love one another, and had fought in one common cause.

I could not speak to the men as I would, for I was too weak. Still I
wished them God-speed for the future, and exhorted them to be very
courageous and to do their duty faithfully, as befits men, to the last.
I told them my work was done. I had given my blood, and might be called
upon to give my life for my country. If so, I hope to be prepared to
bring that offering too. More I could not do. My secretary then knelt
and commended me in prayer to the care and protection of our gracious
God and Father.... Then we parted.

My war career had ended. No more fighting, no more retreating, no more
roaming over the veldt, by day and night, exposed to blasting summer
winds or chilling winter frosts. For two years and two months I had seen
active service. During that time I had tried to acquit myself
conscientiously of my duties as a man. No sacrifice was too great, and
no obstacle appeared insuperable for the cause in which I was engaged.
Looking back upon the past I observe how often I have fallen short and
failed--failed as a burgher and as a leader. And though I do not wish
for another war, I believe I should try to do better were I to live
through it again.

Two of my adjutants--Pieter Hugo and Landman--had remained with me. One
of them instantly went to the nearest railway station, about three miles
off, to call for an ambulance. Till 1 A.M. I lay bleeding in the veldt.
Then the British ambulance arrived. When the doctor saw me he had very
little hope that I would recover. As I was too weak to be removed by
waggon, I was put on a stretcher and carried to a small field hospital,
not far from the spot where I was wounded.

How soon I knew that I was no more a free man! First of all I was
stripped of all my belongings, including watch, chain, and money, etc.
At my urgent request the watch and chain and also a certain amount of my
money were restored to me.

The following morning an ambulance train took me to Naauwpoort Junction.
On the way I had to part with my blanket. And one of the nurses actually
wanted my ring, saying that I might as well give it to her, as it would
be taken from me. This I refused to part with, remarking that I didn't
believe any one would act so shamefully as to rob me of my ring. In this
I was correct.

Arrived at Naauwpoort, I was carried to the hospital, where I was laid
up for three weeks. A screen was posted before my bed, and at my feet
stood a sentinel with fixed bayonet. I was to be completely isolated
from the rest of mankind. Imagine my feelings at having this functionary
at my feet, watching over me and staring in my face day and night. It
was enough to drive me mad. When I could endure it no longer I entreated
one of the sisters to offer my guard a seat, somewhere out of my view,
for his penetrating and unbroken gaze was putting too great a strain on
my already shattered nerves. Surely there was no chance whatsoever for
me to escape, for I could hardly move myself. Besides, the hospital was
so well fenced in and strongly guarded, that all escape was impossible.
My request was partly granted; but I was forbidden to speak to any one,
except to the nurses and the doctor. Neither was any one allowed to
address me. And so the time dragged on heavily and wearily. The first
few days I suffered intensely, gradually the pain decreased, and I
became stronger.

After I had spent three weeks in the hospital I was ordered to Graaff
Reinet. I rose, and dressed with the assistance of the nurses. To my
astonishment six khakis entered my room. One of these had a pair of
handcuffs. To my query as to what his intentions were he replied: "You
must be handcuffed." "Well, and where do you want to put them on?" I
asked him, for my wounded arm was still supported by a sling. "I must
put them on somewhere," he replied bluntly. So I suggested that I would
lie down on the stretcher and have them fastened to my feet. I was
beginning to lose my temper, and expressed myself in somewhat forcible
language. Fortunately an officer then appeared on the scene with whom I
remonstrated about the treatment I was being subjected to. The officer,
shrugging his shoulders, said: "'Tis orders, and they must be executed."
It seemed such a disgraceful action that I could not help remarking:
"That is why the Boers will not surrender. If wounded officers,
entrusted to your care, are treated thus, what must the private expect?"
At last I was allowed to go--unhandcuffed.

Placed in an armoured truck, I was taken to Graaff Reinet Gaol. My
experiences there shall be related in the next chapter. Had I suffered
much up to this time, greater suffering and more anxious moments were
awaiting me.

Before leaving this subject I would sincerely thank the doctors and
sisters, who evinced such great interest and attended so well to my case
while laid up in the Naauwpoort Hospital.

CHAPTER VII.

COURT-MARTIALLED.

    O, if to fight for ... commonweal
    Were piety in thine, it is in these....
    Wilt thou draw near the nature of the Gods?
    Draw near them then in being merciful.

                            _Shakespeare._

Arrived at Graaff Reinet, I was instantly removed to gaol, where I was
confined in a small room. Here, isolated from the rest of the world, I
was to spend many anxious days and sleepless nights. During the day I
was allowed to stay a few hours in an inner yard or enclosure of the
prison. The rest of the time I was locked up, and no bright sun-rays
could revive my drooping spirits. I begged permission to go as far as
the prisoner's yard, and promised not to speak to the other
prisoners--no, not even wink an eye, and should I transgress in any
respect the guard could shoot me down. I desired intensely to move and
breathe in the open and pure air--Nature's gift to all. But this favour
was too great. On the contrary, I was forbidden, on penalty of death, to
address any one. To add to my misery other forces seemed to co-operate.
For the very evening after my arrival an unknown gentleman entered my
room. He carried some documents, and politely informed me that I must
get ready for my trial. He hinted, moreover, that I should expect the
worst. If I had not a will, and wanted one, it should be drawn up
without further delay. If I had any documents to be disposed of, I
should arrange about these as well. In short, this kind (?) fellow gave
me to understand that my career was soon to terminate. How? That was the
question.

The next morning the local magistrate came to pay me his respects. The
unpleasant remarks of the previous evening were cruelly reiterated,
enlarged upon, and emphasized. The magistrate volunteered very kindly to
submit, if necessary, all my papers to some one I may please to appoint.
He would also deliver messages to my sorrowing friends and relatives. As
my trial was pending, I asked him what he meant by talking such
nonsense. Surely the British were not going to shoot each and every Boer
officer whom they captured, and that without fair trial!

Though no coward, I must admit that such conversations were not
calculated to produce a favourable impression on my mind. They might
have been well meant, but did more harm than good. It is one thing to
face the enemy on the battlefield, where one may defend himself; 'tis
something else to be dangerously, almost mortally, wounded, and then to
be at the mercy of the foe. For three consecutive nights Nature's
greatest gift--sleep--to suffering humanity had departed from me. Why
could I not sleep? Was it fear that kept me awake? No, not that. My
conscience was clear, my hands unstained. But locked up in that small
room, with no one to speak to, my thoughts began to multiply, and I lay
meditating night after night. That was enough to make a young man old
and grey. Yet there was one friend who helped me to beguile the dreary
hours of confinement. That friend was my beloved pipe.

One evening, towards the end of February, I was told to appear before a
military court the following morning. This announcement seemed strange
to me, for I was not prepared for a trial. I was resolved what to do.

At 8 o'clock the next morning I was taken by an escort of six soldiers
to the court-house. Having taken my place in the prisoner's box, I
listened to my charges, which were recited as follows: Fourteen cases of
murder; wreckage of trains; and ill-treatment of prisoners-of-war. To
the question, "Guilty or not?" I pleaded "Not guilty," whereupon I was
requested to make my defence, which I declined to do; for the public
prosecutor had promised me, and rightly so, that, if I could produce
any witnesses to disprove the [alleged] charges brought against me, I
could summon them. As none of my witnesses were present, nor an
opportunity of enlisting the services of an advocate and solicitor given
me, I refused to take upon me the burden of pleading in self-defence. I
knew that if I did acquiesce in such a trial, it might prove fatal to my
best interests. It would then be urged, too, that Kritzinger had a fair
trial, when condemned to death, something which would be altogether
untrue.

After I had thrice declined to be tried without witnesses and legal
advice, I was sent to gaol, and told to be ready for trial on the 7th of
March. I now addressed a letter to General French, in which I brought to
his notice how I was being treated. French wrote back that he had
corresponded with Lord Kitchener concerning my case, and that Lord
Kitchener's orders were that I should have a fair trial, _i.e._, legal
defence and witnesses for my case.

On the 1st of March, seven days before the appointed trial, I was again
summoned to appear in court. My charges were read out, and the same
questions were submitted to me. Again I declined to make a defence, and
remarked: "I am in your power, gentlemen--you may do as you please,
pronounce any sentence; but _I_ shall _not_ defend myself." I then
referred the court to French's letter, whereupon I was again removed to
my lodgings.

Meanwhile, I succeeded in enlisting the services of Advocate Gardiner
and Attorney Auret, Graaff Reinet, and made such arrangements that my
witnesses could be present at the trial.

Advocate Gardiner arrived on the evening of the 6th of March. The
following day the court-martial commenced. As my witnesses had not yet
arrived, it was decided that the evidence for the prosecution should
first be taken.

The counsel for the defence took exception to the charges of
train-wreckage, ill-treatment of troops, and some instances of murder;
charges which, _prima facie_, would not stand the test of examination.
These were then withdrawn by the prosecution. After this subtraction
there still remained four charges of murder, which we shall enumerate
in succession.

1st Charge:--

_Murder_.

On or about the 15th of February, 1901, it was alleged that I had killed
and murdered Jafta and Solomon, natives, British subjects, at
Grootplaats, Murraysburg, Cape Colony.

Mr. Boltman, the owner of the farm Grootplaats, was the principal
witness for the prosecution. He deposed that he saw one of my officers,
_i.e._, Antonie Wessels, riding up to me, and after Wessels had spoken
to me he rode back and shot the two natives. Hence I must have given him
orders to shoot them! Besides, Mr. Boltman also declared that he had
heard me say to two men, whom I had arrested along with the two natives
in question, "Do you see these natives? Well, I am going to have them
shot, and in future I shall treat all armed natives in the same way."
All these statements were refuted by one of the men to whom I was
supposed to have made the remark of having the natives shot. The man
denied that he ever heard such a statement from my lips.

2nd Charge:--

_Murder_.

In that I have killed and murdered John Vondeling, a native and British
subject, at Tweefontein, Graaff Reinet.

In this case it was proved by the witnesses for the defence that the
native had been shot three days before my arrival at the farm where the
murder was committed.

3rd Charge:--

_Murder_.

About the 18th of March, 1901, I had killed and brutally murdered a
native at Prinsfontein, Tarkastad.

Mr. Mantel, the farmer, deposed:--

     One of Kritzinger's men was with me as his commando passed some
     distance from my house. Van der Walt said to me, "Do you see that
     man in front, riding on the large blue horse? That man is
     Kritzinger." I then saw a few burghers riding up to Kritzinger, and
     after they had halted for a short while they went back and shot the
     natives.

My witnesses proved that at that particular time I had no blue horse in
my possession. Neither was there such a man as Van der Walt in my
commando; and the natives in question had been shot by another
commandant without my instructions.

4th Charge:--

_Murder_.

At Biscuitfontein, Bethulie, I had killed and murdered two natives on
the 14th of August, 1901.

This was the last and principal charge brought against me. Four blacks
were the chief witnesses in this case, by which, if possible, I was to
be convicted and silenced for ever.

Let us see how they fared. The first one succeeded in identifying me.
The next one was less successful. He pointed to an English officer,
saying, "That is the man." He was to have another chance. I looked at
him and smiled; this puzzled him even more. Greatly perplexed, he
pressed his finger against a man with a long bushy beard, and said, "You
are Kritzinger." What a blunder! The prosecutor seemed slightly put out;
the court indulged in lusty laughter.

The other witnesses were then brought forward. Surely these will not
make a mistake, they know the murderer only too well. Had the prosecutor
not sounded them beforehand by asking them to point out the prisoner's
photo among a number of other photos? Did they not hit upon the right
photo? Is this not conclusive evidence that they must have seen and
known the prisoner? In spite of all this precaution, the first witness
in this case declared, on being cross-questioned _re_ the photo in
question, that a certain officer had shown him the photo at Norval's
Pont, and asked him to note it carefully, so that, if called upon, he
would be able to identify the person concerned!

I watched the prosecutor, who exhibited signs of uneasiness or disgust.
This stupid native was spoiling his good case; the other witness was
going to commit as great a blunder. He declared that on the 10th of
January he saw the corpses of two natives, and, on seeing them,
immediately recognized the one as being the body of his brother-in-law.
Questioned as to how he could still recognize his brother-in-law in a
decomposed body, he promptly replied, "Oh! my brother had still a smile
on his face!" Although the native in question was shot on the 14th of
August, 1901, on the 10th of January he still had a smile on his face!
Death must have conferred a great boon upon him. And if he could have
appeared in court, he certainly would have objected to my being tried.
Have not sentences of death, confiscation of property, and imprisonment
been passed on the evidences of such witnesses?

When all the evidences had been taken the prosecutor delivered his
address. After him the counsel for the defence addressed the court. In a
very able speech Advocate Gardiner pointed out the shallowness of the
accusations against me. He urged that the court should not be long in
coming to a decision, as a prolonged trial meant increased expenses for
the accused.

After his address I was removed for half an hour. Summoned back, a
verdict of "not guilty" was brought in. I was at last acquitted, and
could return to my lonely chamber not as a criminal, but as a
prisoner-of-war!

Leaving the court-room I was called back to shake hands with the judges,
who congratulated me with the acquittal. Thus the trial, which lasted
five days, came to an end. The clouds cleared up. The sun rose. It was
all brightness. I had passed unscathed through the ordeal, to indulge
that night in slumbers calm and sweet.

Just a few days before the trial commenced I was somewhat reassured and
encouraged to hope for the best. An unknown friend kindly dropped a
newspaper cutting, tied to a piece of stone, over the prison yard. This
press-cutting fell into my hands, and in it I saw that a large section
of the British public strongly disapproved of the action of the
Military Government _re_ late Commandant Scheepers, and that section and
people all over the continent and in the United States of America were
asking, "What about Kritzinger--will he too be shot?" I noticed also
that petitions on my behalf were being drawn up in England and
elsewhere, and signed extensively.

All the men and women who so petitioned His Majesty the King to spare my
life I thank most sincerely, for the interest shown in my case, and for
the efforts put forth to save my life. How much I owe such I do not
fully know; but I do appreciate the deed of kindness shown to me in the
darkest moments of my life. Such deeds are never forgotten. They
illuminate life's way with such splendour as fills the soul with
inexpressible gratitude.

I have related the story of my trial briefly and as accurately as I
could. I do not wish to comment on the justice or injustice of the
proceedings. It is for others to judge whether an officer, who was a
burgher of the Orange Free State, and _not_ a rebel, should have been
court-martialled, and while the war was still in progress, on such
unfounded charges. I shall not say whether I consider it just and fair
that, tried as a prisoner-of-war and acquitted as such, I should have
had to pay a bill of £226 for my defence. What if a prisoner does not
possess the means to secure legal defence? Must he then be condemned
without it? Has this not been done in certain cases? I shall ask no more
questions. I did not mind the money, but was only too glad to inhale
once more air not pregnant with death and destruction.

Our object in mentioning these details is to illustrate the nature of
some of the charges brought against Boer officers and burghers when
court-martialled by the British. These charges of murder were, as a
rule, associated with Kaffirs who had been shot, either in fair fight or
as spies. Our officers were held responsible for the acts of their men.
Moreover, by proclamation, any officer or burgher convicted of shooting
a Kaffir or Hottentot, after having surrendered, could be charged with
murder and condemned to death. The principle laid down in this
proclamation, that the life of a surrendered foe should not be taken,
must be endorsed by every right-minded man. The burghers, however,
argued that, since the war had not been declared against the coloured
races, they had the right to deal with armed natives in the most
effectual manner possible, especially if these natives were not British
subjects, but belonged to the Republics. Besides, some of these natives
gave no quarter to our men. We could cite several instances where
burghers had been murdered and mutilated in a ghastly manner. To mention
one instance, while peace negotiations were going on, 56 men were
savagely cut up and mutilated by the Kaffirs in the district of Vryheid,
Transvaal.

Eventually we were placed in such a position that we hardly knew what to
do with armed natives. What if they refuse to surrender? Shoot them ...
and then you are a murderer. Let them go ... and then you will pay the
penalty. It was perplexing to know how the British wished us to act. The
Boers, regardless of consequences, did what they thought right.

For the sake of such as were interested in my trial, I submit in full
the charges, my evidence, and the addresses of the prosecutor and
counsel for the defence:--

     _Charge Sheet_.

     The prisoner, Pieter Hendrik Kritzinger, a burgher of the late
     Orange Free State, and ex-Assistant Chief Commandant of the
     (so-called) Federal forces, is charged with:--

     1st Charge:--

     _Murder_.

     In that he, at Grootplaats, Murraysburg, on or about the 15th of
     February, 1901, killed and murdered Jafta and Solomon, natives,
     British subjects.

     2nd Charge:--

     _Murder_.

     In that he, at Tweefontein, Graaff Reinet, on or about the 15th of
     February, 1901, killed and murdered John Thomas, a native, a
     British subject.

     3rd Charge:--

     _Murder_.

     In that he, at Prinsfontein, Tarkastad, on or about the 18th of
     March, 1901, killed and murdered a native, a British subject.

     4th Charge:--

     _Murder_.

     In that he, at Biscuitfontein, Bethulie, Orange River Colony, on or
     about the 15th of August, 1901, killed and murdered Koos and
     Willem, natives, British subjects.

     5th Charge:--

     _Destroying Railways_.

     In that he, near Knutsford, Cradock, on or about the 27th of July,
     1901, cut the railway line, thereby causing a portion of a
     passenger train to be derailed.

     To be tried by Military Court by order of General French.

     The prisoner takes his stand at the place from which other
     witnesses give their evidence:--

     The prisoner, Pieter Hendrik Kritzinger, being duly sworn,
     states:--

     "My name is Pieter Hendrik Kritzinger. In the commencement of
     September, 1900, I became a commandant of the Free State Forces. I
     became Chief Commandant of the forces in the Cape Colony on the
     11th of June, 1901. This would not give me a higher position in the
     event of my returning to the Free State. Once over the border I
     would hold the same position as any other commandant. I surrendered
     on the 16th of December last. I attempted to cross the line at
     Hanover Road and was wounded.

     I know absolutely nothing of the death of Jafta and Solomon, I gave
     no orders that they should be shot, nor any other natives. I
     arrived at Voetpad on a Thursday, the 14th of February, 1901. I
     camped there until the following day. Shortly before I left Voetpad
     Captain Smit with his men came there from a farm in the vicinity.
     The name of the farm is unknown to me. Captain Smit was not under
     my command. He was acting independently. An advance guard is
     generally sent out. On this occasion I sent Wessels and some men. I
     do not know when Wessels left, I cannot remember. I went from
     Voetpad to Poortje, the farm of Van der Merwe. I arrived there
     about sundown on Friday the 15th. On my way from Voetpad I passed
     over Boltman's place. I did not hear of any natives being shot
     there. While on Voetpad I had no message from Wessels. I cannot
     remember having spoken to any one in that strain regarding
     Boltman's statements _re_ shooting natives. There was one Mijnhardt
     in my commando, there were others amongst Smit's men, but I can't
     call to mind of a Corporal Mijnhardt in my commando. No report was
     ever made to me of natives being shot at Grootplaats.

     2nd Charge:--

     On the 15th of February, 1901, I went to Poortje. I camped there
     for the night. On the 16th I went to Driefontein, the farm of du
     Toit. That was Saturday. From there I went on Sunday to the farm
     Tweefontein, Minnaar's. I have not had a man named Van Aswegen with
     me at Minnaar's. I know a Van Aswegen; he is a sergeant in Smit's
     commando. He was not at Minnaar's when I got there. I do not know
     where he was. On the 12th of February, 1901, I saw Van Aswegen on a
     farm, the name of which is unknown to me. The owner's name is
     Burger. There Smit and his men left me. I next saw Van Aswegen on a
     farm in the Richmond district, the owner of which is Meiring. I
     stopped at Minnaar's for the day, held service, and left there in
     the afternoon. I know nothing of the shooting of a native there. No
     shooting of a native was reported to me. Van Aswegen certainly had
     no orders from me. He was not under my control, he was under the
     control of Smit. Nobody belonging to my commando had any orders
     from me with reference to shooting natives.

     3rd Charge:--

     The Court does not think it necessary to take the prisoner's
     evidence on this charge.

     4th Charge:--

     I crossed the Orange River into the Orange River Colony on or about
     the 15th of August last. It is brought back to my memory inasmuch
     as Commandant Cachet was killed on the 15th of August in the
     district of Venterstad in the Cape Colony. I did not take any
     natives prisoner prior to crossing the river. Commandant Wessels
     was with me before I got to the river, about five or six miles from
     the river he left me and crossed. I crossed the Orange River on the
     Bethulie side. Wessels crossed the river on the Norval's Pont side.
     I did not see him cross the river. After crossing I went to the
     first farm. No one was at home there, and I off-saddled. The name
     of the farm is unknown to me. It was a farm that had been burnt.
     When I arrived at that farm there was no other commando there.
     Before I crossed the river I heard rifle-fire, but after I had
     off-saddled for a little while I heard cannon-fire. The firing came
     from the west, from the direction which Wessels had crossed the
     river. The cannon-firing also came from the same direction.

     I mounted a horse and rode up a kopje to see if I could see
     anything that might be taking place. The kopje was about 1,000 to
     1,200 yards from my laager. I was riding a chestnut horse. I went
     to the kopje alone, but a man by the name of Michael Coetzee, whom
     I intend to call as a witness, was on the kopje on duty as a
     sentinel. I remained there a considerable time. I saw cannon-firing
     on a little ridge on the Colony side of the river. I heard
     rifle-fire while I was on the kopje. I returned to the laager. The
     firing was in the direction of the laager. When I got back to the
     laager Commandant Wessels was there, off-saddled. After I arrived
     at the camp I spoke to him about the firing I had heard. I knew
     that some of the farmer's cattle were being brought in for the
     purpose of slaughtering, and I asked Wessels why they fired so many
     shots at the animals, and he replied that a couple of Kaffirs had
     been shot. I was chaffing Wessels when I asked him why they fired
     so many shots at the animals. When I was on the kopje I certainly
     did not know that Wessels had taken natives prisoner. I did not see
     these natives after they had been shot. I do not know the boy Jan
     Louw. I did not speak to him that day, nor to any other native. The
     Wessels in question is the Commandant Louis Wessels, who passed
     into the Colony from the Orange River Colony, and I met him three
     or four days before I crossed. The day after our meeting we had a
     skirmish with the British. Wessels and I got separated. The
     following day we met again on the farm of Van der Keever. He was
     not under my command in the Colony, nor in the Orange River Colony.
     I had about between seventy and eighty men when I crossed the
     river, and Wessels had between thirty and forty men. I had a few
     natives shot in the Orange River Colony prior to my crossing into
     the Colony in the first instance. These were tried by Captain
     Scheepers, Captain Fouché, and Captain Smit and myself, also Judge
     Hugo. The papers were sent to Assistant Chief Commandant Fourie,
     and the sentences were approved of by him. That was the only case
     of natives having been shot by me.

     _Prosecutor's Address._

     (Captain L. Daine.)

     "As regards the first charge, the natives Jafta and Solomon and the
     scouts McCabe and Maasdorp were captured by Wessels, who was in
     charge of Kritzinger's scouts. He took them to Grootplaats. McCabe
     proves that Wessels then went towards Voetpad, three miles off, and
     returned some time afterwards, gave an order to his men, and the
     two natives were led off to execution. Boltman's statements that
     Kritzinger gave a message for British column commanders, informing
     them that armed natives would be shot, are fully corroborated by
     what McCabe was told by members of Kritzinger's commando, and
     clearly shows Kritzinger's intentions and instructions. Kritzinger
     states that he cannot remember whether he gave the message or not.

     "The witnesses for the defence all state that there were no
     prisoners with the commando at Grootplaats, yet the accuracy with
     which they describe different horses, and the date of seeing Van
     Aswegen, _i.e._, 13th February, 1901, is little short of
     marvellous. Kritzinger states that he mounted a horse and rode to
     the kopje, which was about 1,000 to 1,200 yards from the laager,
     and that he was riding a chestnut horse, while the witnesses for
     the defence state that he was riding a dark bay horse with a star
     when he rode to the kopje.

     "As regards the natives mentioned in the first charge, McCabe
     states that he did not lose sight of them all the time they were
     together, and as they were not searched in his presence the passes
     could therefore not have been found. They were captured on a farm
     in British territory.

     "As regards the second charge, Van Aswegen was evidently a member
     of Kritzinger's commando, and the witness, Van der Merwe, remembers
     seeing him with the commando for three weeks, during which time he
     and his men were frequently away. Here again, as concerns spies,
     Van Aswegen had the passes in his hand and knew what the boy really
     was.

     "As regards the fourth charge, the natives were captured in the
     Cape Colony, where Kritzinger was Chief Commandant. The statement
     that his authority as such ceased the moment he crossed the Orange
     River is hardly credible. The natives were shot at Biscuitfontein,
     where Kritzinger was laagered at the time, and their dead bodies
     were seen by de Klerk there. Jan Louw is very clear as to who the
     commandant was. He recognized his photo on two occasions, and
     identified him at once in court. The dark brown horse ridden by
     Kritzinger to the kopje is probably the black referred to, and his
     evidence is corroborated by Jan Jonkers, who, however, failed to
     recognize Kritzinger in court, more through fright than anything
     else, I think. Both these witnesses state that there was a body of
     men at Biscuitfontein when they arrived. This is denied by
     witnesses for the defence. The bodies found by Jan Hans must have
     been those of Koos and Willem, as the spot is identified as that
     described by de Klerk.

     "It must be remembered that the witnesses Hugo, Matthijsen, Van
     Wijk and de Klerk are all accomplices, and therefore their evidence
     must be received with caution, especially after the curiously
     minute details they give on some points. It is also worthy of note
     that Matthijsen was not examined on the fourth charge, though he
     was present with Kritzinger at the time.

     "The shooting of these prisoners was absolutely unjustifiable and
     illegal, and all concerned must be held equally responsible.

     "Wessels took over the command of Kritzinger's commando when the
     latter was wounded.

     "As regards the proclamation, the only name mentioned in it is that
     of Kritzinger, and the proclamation is signed by him. The names of
     any of the other commandants are not mentioned in it at all.

     "As regards the witnesses for the prosecution, there are three who
     have been deported, and therefore could not be obtained."

     _Address by the Counsel for the Defence._

     (Advocate H.G. Gardiner.)

     "Mr. President and Members of the Military Court:--

     "We are now reaching the end of a great trial, the great trial of a
     great man. Of all the trials that have been held before Military
     Courts in this country, this, I may fairly say, is most important.

     "No officer of higher or even equal rank to him, who was once Chief
     Commandant in this Colony, has yet been tried, and on this trial
     much will depend. It is a case the result of which may have great
     and far-reaching influence. It may influence greatly the Boer
     commandoes in the field. On the verdict now given in his case the
     attitude of other leaders will greatly depend. I do not urge this
     upon you that you should acquit the prisoner. I do not ask you to
     consider the consequences of the verdict you may bring in. I know
     that you will bring in whatever verdict you think right regardless
     of all consequences, but I do bring these facts before you as a
     reason why you should carefully consider the evidence.

     "The charge in this case is the charge of murder, the greatest
     crime that can be brought against a man. It is a crime of which a
     man cannot be technically guilty. You must have the most convincing
     evidence before you, and the clearest proof. It is a crime where
     intent must be clearly proved; where intent is essential. A
     merchant whose agent enters into a contract may be held responsible
     to carry out that contract, but a merchant whose clerk commits a
     crime cannot be held responsible for that crime. It would, sir, be
     intolerable if a leader of a column should be held responsible for
     every act committed by the men under his command. We are glad to
     know, sir, that in the history of this war British troops have
     behaved in an exemplary manner, but there have been occasions when
     they have done things not in accordance with the laws and usages of
     war, and it would be unfair to hold a general responsible for such
     acts of isolated individuals. On the question of intent and what
     constitutes responsibility for a crime, I would refer to _Manual of
     Military Law_, pages 112 and 113, paragraph 17:--'If the offence
     charged involves some special intent, it must be shown that the
     assistant was cognizant of the intention of the person whom he
     assisted; thus, on a charge of wounding with intent to murder, it
     must be shown that the assistant not only assisted the principal
     offender in what he did, but also knew what his intention was,
     before the former can be convicted on the full charge.' Then again,
     paragraph 18. After referring to persons going out with common
     intent it says that a person is not responsible for any offence
     'committed by any member of the party, which is unconnected with a
     common purpose, unless he personally instigates or assists in its
     commission.' And to give an example, sir, of common intent, the
     purpose for which a commander and his men go on commando is to kill
     and destroy the enemy, not that of killing prisoners and
     non-combatants, or prisoners without a trial, and if a subordinate
     without orders from his superior commits a crime, that superior
     cannot be held responsible for it unless he has consented to it or
     knew of it. I would also refer to paragraph 20:--'Mere knowledge
     that a person is about to commit an offence, and even conduct
     influenced by such knowledge, will not make a person responsible
     for that offence, unless he does something actively to encourage
     its commission.' And last of all I would refer to Army Act, section
     6, page 322:--'Every person subject to Military Law who commits any
     of the following offences, that is to say (_f_):--Does violence to
     any person bringing provisions or supplies to the forces, or
     commits any offence against the property of persons or any
     inhabitant or resident in the country in which he is serving,' but
     says nothing about the responsibility of a superior officer.

     "We may take it therefore that Kritzinger can only be responsible
     for a murder when he has given either general or special orders, or
     when he knew of it beforehand, and consented to its being done.
     Now, sir, what proof have we of that being so in this case?

     "Let us take the first charge--the charge of shooting two natives
     at Grootplaats. There can be no doubt that these natives were
     spies. They came into the Boer lines unarmed, ununiformed, and with
     false passes. They carried two passes, one representing them as
     belonging to the 7th Dragoon Guards, and the other to the effect
     that they were looking for cattle. I think if such a case came
     before you, you would have no doubts about treating them as spies.
     Therefore Kritzinger would not have been guilty of murder had he
     shot them. I have a far stronger defence, however. The natives were
     captured by Wessels. Kritzinger knew nothing about them, and when
     these boys were shot he was not present, as he was at another farm
     at the time. Wessels left at 10 A.M., Kritzinger arrived there
     after sunset. How can he then be responsible for the shooting of
     these natives when he was not at the farm? There is not a bit of
     proof to show that Kritzinger gave the order about the shooting of
     these boys. One of the native witnesses says that one of Wessels'
     men went in the direction of Voetpad; there is no evidence that he
     ever reached there. More than that, witnesses belonging to
     Kritzinger's commando state that they saw nothing of Wessels, and
     that they knew nothing of the shooting of these boys. At the close
     of the evidence in chief there was something which looked like
     implicating Kritzinger, but of that by Van Aswegen there is very
     little left to-day. At first the evidence _re_ Mijnhardt was taken,
     but the Court has ruled that this evidence cannot be accepted. Now
     there is the evidence of Boltman. I do not say that Boltman did not
     give his evidence fairly, but he must have made a mistake as
     regards Kritzinger making use of the words he referred to. McCabe
     says while he was on the farm nothing of the kind occurred. If
     anything had been said he would have heard it. When McCabe and
     Maasdorp came back no report was made that Kritzinger had said
     anything of the kind. But there was a report made, and McCabe bears
     it out that something was said by another member of the commando. I
     would submit that Boltman mistook the other member of the commando
     for Kritzinger. There is no getting over the evidence of McCabe,
     and he is the person who ought to remember it. As McCabe says,
     Kritzinger did not arrive until some hours after the boys had been
     shot.

     "I now come to the second charge--the charge of the shooting of the
     boy John Thomas at Tweefontein. Now, sir, here again the boy was
     clearly a spy. He carried two passes similar to those carried by
     the boys mentioned in the first charge. He was unarmed. He was not
     in uniform. He was there to spy the movements of the Boers.
     Kritzinger would not have been responsible for the shooting of this
     boy had he shot him. But here the evidence against him is even
     weaker than in the first charge. Here there is no suggestion that
     the boy was shot by any of Kritzinger's men. The evidence shows
     that the boy was shot by a man serving under Smit. Smit was an
     officer with an independent command, and, more than that, he had
     been longer in service than Kritzinger himself, and was not under
     Kritzinger. Here, too, there is no suggestion, as in the first
     charge, that any message was taken to Kritzinger by the men who
     shot this boy, John Thomas. None of Van Aswegen's men were sent to
     Kritzinger. Van Aswegen himself did not go back. No one from
     Kritzinger came to Van Aswegen. Van Aswegen was last seen by
     Kritzinger on the 12th or 13th of February, 1901, and was not seen
     again by him until a couple of days after the shooting.

     "That the boy was shot by Van Aswegen appears clear from the two
     Minnaars' evidence, who say that the boy was taken out by Van
     Aswegen, and that was the last they saw of him. Kritzinger did not
     arrive until Sunday morning with his commando, and everyone says he
     knows absolutely nothing about the shooting of the native. I would
     submit that there is absolutely nothing to connect Kritzinger with
     the shooting of this boy.

     "On the 3rd Charge there is no need to say anything. The Court has
     already indicated that it is unnecessary to proceed further with
     it.

     "I now come to the 4th Charge; the only charge in which Kritzinger
     was said to have been present at the shooting. In the first two
     charges, Kritzinger did not appear until hours after the natives
     had been shot. The only witnesses who say that Kritzinger was
     present at the shooting of the natives mentioned in this charge are
     natives. There appear to have been no white men present. Some one
     said that Schmidt was present, but it appears he did not cross the
     river. We have only native evidence to this effect, and native
     evidence is most unreliable, and only one of the witnesses could
     identify Kritzinger. We are, therefore, driven back to the evidence
     of Jan Louw. Even if Jan Louw had given his evidence in a way that
     could not be shaken, it would be dangerous to convict on the
     evidence of one witness alone. Natives have no idea of dates, time,
     or distances. They find it difficult to identify prisoners. We have
     seen that in the case of Jan Jonkers, and that shows how much
     reliance can be placed on native evidence. Jan Jonkers identifies a
     man in Court as being Kritzinger who was never near the place. Four
     months after a man has been killed Jan Hans goes and sees his body.
     He identifies him not by the clothes he wears but by his face. Is
     it possible that after being for four months on the plains of the
     Orange Free State, exposed to the air and the heat, a man could
     identify the face of another? And the one native witness is the
     witness Jan Louw. Even if Jan Louw were a strong witness, his
     evidence would not have been sufficient to convict, but Jan Louw's
     evidence falls to the ground under cross-examination. How did Jan
     Louw identify Kritzinger? He was taken to the office at Norval's
     Pont. Now, Jan Louw had only seen one commandant in his life. When
     in that commandant's possession, his life was apparently not worth
     very much. His companions were shot. When shown any commandant's
     photo he would naturally identify it with the commandant he knew.
     Now, Jan Jonkers explains to us why the photo was identified. He
     was asked, 'Is that Kritzinger?' and he replied, 'That is
     Kritzinger.' Now, a native is very likely, in a case like that, to
     say, 'That is the man.' Then Jan Jonkers, in re-examination, tries
     to get out of that. He says that he said, 'That is Kritzinger,' and
     then the man in the office said, 'That is Kritzinger.' The
     probability is that Jan Louw and Jan Jonkers were asked if it was
     Kritzinger's photo, and they said, 'Yes.' If the Court saw the
     photos they could see how much reliance could be placed on the
     identification. The witnesses were taken into a room where there
     were several groups of photos, but the biggest photo was that of
     Kritzinger, and these natives had seen it before. Probably it is
     the only photo they have seen in their lives. It was the same photo
     they had seen at Norval's Pont. What would one expect? One would
     naturally expect them to pick out that photo, and that is what
     occurred. Well, after that, one can understand why Jan Louw
     identifies Kritzinger in Court. He has had a photo shown to him in
     town, and of course he naturally identifies Kritzinger at once. The
     wonder is that Jan Jonkers did not identify Kritzinger. It only
     shows what small reliance can be placed on the evidence of natives,
     and that is the sole evidence on which the 4th Charge is based.

     "Now let us see what Kritzinger's story is. It is a consistent
     story, and it seems what probably happened under the circumstances.
     He crossed without prisoners, and everyone in his commando bears
     him out. He crossed before Wessels, and laagered there, and
     afterwards Wessels came up. Jan Louw says that no other commando
     was there when he arrived, and no other came afterwards. Jan
     Jonkers says there were about one hundred men when he arrived. The
     Court will have no doubt that there were two commandoes there.
     Kritzinger said that he had seventy or eighty men with him. And
     then again we have Jan Jonkers. If Jan Jonkers found a commando
     there, all the evidence goes to show that Jan Jonkers must have
     been with Wessels, and not with Kritzinger. Wessels captured these
     men, and therefore must have done the shooting.

     "Then there is the question of identifying a horse. Both natives
     say it was a black horse, and the other evidence shows it was a
     chestnut horse. It may appear strange that our men remember the
     horses, but I would certainly trust any Boer, who has to deal with
     horses all his life, rather than a native. Then Kritzinger says he
     left the commando and went up to the kopje. Wessels had not arrived
     yet, and that, sir, is borne out by every one of Kritzinger's
     witnesses; and, as he says, and all the witnesses say, it was in
     Kritzinger's absence that Wessels arrived and the shooting was
     done. Kritzinger says he heard the shots and chaffed Wessels about
     an ox he supposed they were shooting. But whatever was done in
     Kritzinger's absence was done entirely without Kritzinger's
     knowledge, and, sir, by men who belonged to Wessels, because
     whoever did the shooting it was done by men belonging to the
     commando who took these natives prisoners. Now, sir, it is
     unfortunate that the witness who was with Kritzinger on the kopje,
     and who could also have heard the shots, is not here. I know it is
     not the fault of the Court that he is not here. It is unfortunate,
     though, that this man is in St. Helena. But Kritzinger is already
     corroborated by his other witnesses, and against them is only a
     single native witness. There is, of course, this story of a
     conversation between Kritzinger and the boy Jan Louw. Kritzinger is
     supposed to have said to the boy: 'Did you see those boys? They are
     to be shot. Put down your billies, and go and be shot also,' and
     then at once to have changed his mind: 'Never mind, my boy, get the
     water.' It is an improbable story. Jan Jonkers does not appear to
     have heard the conversation at all. None of Kritzinger's men appear
     to know of it, and I submit it was not said by Kritzinger, if said
     at all. Then on the prosecution's side one native witness is
     contradicted by all the other witnesses.

     "Before I close the case for the defence, I would like to refer to
     the character of the prisoner. In this case I am well aware that
     character is not a ground of acquittal. I know, sir, that good men
     of excellent characters have committed crimes, and I would not for
     one moment appeal for an acquittal because Kritzinger has behaved
     so well in other instances, and has shown himself a humane man, and
     a man of honour. I do not ask for mercy on the ground of
     Kritzinger's character, we can only ask for a fair and just
     verdict. But character is of importance when there is any doubt in
     the case. I ask the Court to bear in mind the character of the
     accused. Is a man who bears such a character likely to have
     committed the crimes charged against him? The character of
     Kritzinger, if we put aside the charges in his case, is an
     excellent one. The prosecution has brought out in cross-examination
     a certain proclamation. I am glad it has been brought out, for it
     goes to show nothing against the character of the accused, but it
     tells in his favour, for, what do we find? That a draft
     proclamation was drawn up at a meeting of commandants, at which
     Kritzinger was chairman. He opposed it by every means in his power,
     but he was in the minority, and, as president of the gathering, he
     had to sign it. He then asked for some postponement before that
     proclamation was circulated, and that was agreed to. He still
     fought against this proclamation, for he asked that before De Wet
     approved of it nothing should be done in the way of circulation. He
     never circulated it himself. If it was circulated, it was done by
     the other commandants against the agreement. It was not approved of
     by De Wet, and never became a proclamation. This shows that
     Kritzinger disapproved of the harsh measures contained in it, that
     he tried to get it done away with, and that at last he succeeded in
     getting a refusal from the Chief Commandant of the Free State. It
     was owing to his efforts that the proclamation did not become a
     valid one in this Colony, and he cannot be responsible for anything
     that may have been done against the agreement arrived at by those
     at the meeting.

     "As regards his treatment of natives, he tells you himself that he
     never had natives shot, except those boys who were duly tried, and
     whose sentences were duly confirmed, and that will tell in his
     favour.

     "As regards his attitude _re_ the destruction of property, we have
     the letter to Scheepers, and the Court will bear that in mind in
     deciding whether he has been guilty of these acts of inhumanity
     charged against him or not.

     "His character has been excellent. Coming back into danger again in
     order to secure a remount for one of his men whose horse had been
     shot, he was himself wounded, and ultimately captured. His conduct
     on that occasion was that of a brave man, as it has been all
     through the war. If there is a question of doubt I ask the Court to
     bear in mind the character of the prisoner. All the evidence is
     riddled with doubt, and you have to weigh this, sir. On the one
     hand the native was shot in Kritzinger's absence. There is no proof
     that it was done by his order, or with his consent. The evidence of
     the natives in the 4th Charge is of the weakest description.
     Against that you have his excellent character, and the story
     corroborated by his own witnesses and corroborated in some respects
     by the witnesses for the prosecution. I ask you, sir, to weigh that
     evidence in the balance, and see which side is found wanting.

     "Just a word more, and I have done. I know there are some people
     who say it is unfair to try a man by a Court composed of men who
     have been fighting against him. Sir, I have no such fear. I know,
     sir, I feel sure that there is not an officer in South Africa who
     would not gladly acquit the prisoner of the crimes laid to his
     charge if he felt he could conscientiously do so. I therefore leave
     in your hands the fate of a man whose bravery has been shown on
     many occasions, in many a hard fight, whose honesty and humanity
     have been, in many instances, conspicuous. More than that, sir,
     should he be acquitted, when this war is over, he will, I feel
     sure, be able and ready to do much to restore the good feeling
     which we all hope will prevail between English and Dutch, I leave
     his fate in your hands with the conviction that you will bring in
     the only verdict warranted by the evidence, a verdict of 'Not
     guilty.'"

This address gives you, reader, the gist of my trial. If you have had
the patience to read through it you will be able to have a fair
conception of what we had to pass through in the early days of March,
1902.

CHAPTER VIII.

WHY WE SURRENDERED.

    Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,
    Who never to himself hath said,
    This is my own, my native land!...
    If such there breathe, go, mark him well.

                          _Walter Scott._

We shall now direct our attention to some of the disadvantages and
difficulties which confronted us in our struggle for freedom. This we do
because many who were in sympathy with the Republics have been sorely
disappointed in their surrender, and some suppose that they should have
prolonged the struggle until victory ultimately crowned their efforts.
Those who reason in this way must be ignorant of the conditions of the
Republics at the time of their surrender, neither do they know the
disadvantages with which we had to grapple throughout the war. It is
therefore of importance that the South African War should be regarded in
the light and under the circumstances in which it was begun, conducted
and concluded. When the obstacles the Boer had to encounter are taken
into due consideration, then censure and disappointment vanish and make
room for praise and admiration.

None know better than those who have been involved in war that its
current does not run evenly. Experience has taught them that war is much
more than a series of exciting adventures or some kind of sport. It
brings before the contending parties problems hard to solve,
difficulties and emergencies of a most perplexing and bewildering
nature. Boer and Briton alike had to face such difficulties and
disadvantages. The disadvantages, however, under which the English had
to labour in South Africa dwindle into insignificance when contrasted
and compared with those of the Boers, especially towards the latter part
of the war. The impartial critic must admit that eventually the vantage
ground was altogether on the side of the British. 'Tis only by sheer
determination and superhuman efforts and sacrifices on the part of the
late Republics that they defied the British Empire for two years and
eight months. None were perhaps more surprised and amazed at the
protracted war than the Imperial Government itself. Time and again an
early termination of hostilities was announced. Such was the case after
Cronje's capture, the occupation of Bloemfontein and Pretoria, and
Prinsloo's surrender. When Lord Roberts left South Africa, the war, it
was said, was practically over!

The British were placed at a great disadvantage at the outbreak of
hostilities. The Boer ultimatum, issued on the 9th of October, 1899,
found the English Government only half prepared either to accept or
reject its demands. None thought that the Boer Republics would ever take
such a bold step, and would be so audacious as to despatch an ultimatum
to one of the mightiest Powers of the world. They should have waited and
waited until that strong Power was quite prepared to crush them at one
stroke. They should have waited, at least, till all the British forces
were massed on their borders, then to cross, and take by force what
peaceful negotiations failed to obtain. Thus reasoned some, the Boers
thought otherwise. To them war seemed inevitable, and they believe that
the man who strikes first strikes best.

That the war presented many difficulties to our opponents cannot be
denied. They were unexpectedly brought to a crisis, and were but half
prepared to meet it. Their reinforcements were delayed in being
transported thousands of miles. Their own subjects rose in rebellion and
assisted the Boers. They were at first unacquainted with the country in
which they had to fight.

How the enemy confronted and overcame these difficulties, and how their
disadvantages gradually vanished like smoke, is well known. Troops,
more troops, and still more were despatched to South Africa, until
finally the Republics were literally flooded by the gentlemen in khaki.
By the end of February, 1900, Lord Roberts had at his disposal tens of
thousands, by whom General Cronje was surrounded and captured, and who
paved the Field-Marshal's way for him to Bloemfontein and Pretoria. The
difficulty and disadvantage arising from their not knowing the
geographical features of the country in which they had to operate was
gradually solved and cleared. Cape colonials enlisted in the British
ranks, and these acted as guides and scouts. They knew the features of
the country as well as the Boers, and could thus render very efficient
service to the British. Still later, services of inestimable value were
rendered to the British forces by natives, and, alas! even republicans
themselves, who joined the enemy's ranks. When these enlisted, the
English were provided with the best of guides, scouts and spies.

The disadvantages of the enemy were, to a large extent, the advantages
of the, Boers. They had a very accurate knowledge of the country where
they were fighting. The value of such a knowledge can hardly be
over-estimated. If they had not known the country as well as they did,
the English forces would certainly have been more successful in
effecting their capture; and they would have often been in a sad plight.
Our knowledge of the field of operations proved our salvation on more
than one occasion, and was at the bottom of some successes achieved over
the enemy. To know every mountain, hill, river, brooklet, valley, or
donga is to be forearmed. The general that knows the battlefield is
infinitely better off than the one that does not. He knows precisely how
and when to lead an attack, or what to do when unexpectedly attacked.
Now the Boer commanders had this intimate knowledge of the country, a
knowledge which served them in good stead, and accounts for the Boers'
marvellous mobility. They were not tied to roads, but could move in any
direction, by night as well as by day, without ever losing their track.
This the enemy could not do, not even with the aid of scientific
instruments. When the natives and some of the burghers attached
themselves to the British forces, then, and then only, were they able to
make forced marches by night, and surprise the Boers when least
expected.

A second point in favour of us was the fact that we were all mounted,
whereas, at the commencement of the war, the British army consisted
largely of infantry. The Boers are splendid horsemen--none more at home
in the saddle than the farmer. The way he handled his steed, and the
posture he assumed on it, invariably distinguished him, even at great
distances, from the British soldier. The British infantry, however well
they might have fought--and they did often fight bravely--were yet
placed at a great disadvantage in engagements with the mounted Boers,
who could quickly, sometimes too quickly, abandon untenable positions
and occupy others which offered greater advantages.

Last, but not least, the Boers had the moral advantage of fighting in
defence of their country. They did not fight for honour or glory, nor
because of lust or greed for gold or expansion of territory, but for
their beloved Fatherland, for that freedom which they had enjoyed so
long and loved so well. This was their stimulus, their very inspiration
to endure hardship and sacrifice all. What was the stimulus and
inspiration of the British forces?

We shall now review some of the disadvantages under which we had to wage
war for almost three years. No sooner had the war been declared than the
Republics were almost completely isolated from the civilised world. The
English were in possession of all the harbours, and if it had not been
for Delagoa Bay, which is a neutral port, the communication of the
Republics with the outer world would instantly have been cut off
entirely. Through this port all contraband of war was strictly
prohibited; and such foreigners as came to our assistance had to
exercise great ingenuity to find their way _via_ Delagoa Bay to the Boer
lines. For several months in succession the Boers had to fight without
the slightest encouragement from abroad. How the nations were regarding
their struggle, whether any of them would dare to interfere on their
behalf, and so indicate the rights of the weak against the strong--such
and similar questions remained unanswered. Neither was the average Boer
much concerned as to what other nations thought about the war. He was
involved in the struggle, not because he courted it or loved to fight,
but because his country was invaded and his independence was at stake.
To secure his liberty he would resist any Power, regardless of all
adverse criticism on the part of other Powers. Yet it proved no less a
serious disadvantage to the Republics to have been so isolated, their
communication with the other Powers so restricted, and themselves
encompassed almost on every side by British dominions.

Not only was our intercourse with the outer world sadly impeded, but our
internal communication was likewise seriously disturbed. The British,
having divided the two states into several small sections by their
blockhouse system, made it extremely difficult for the different
commandoes to come in touch with one another. Our despatch riders, who
had to beat their way through the various blockhouse lines, were
sometimes so hemmed in by these that escape was impossible, and thus
their despatches fell into the hands of the enemy. Towards the latter
part of the war we were entirely dependent upon despatch riders for the
transmission of our reports or messages. We had no more the inestimable
advantage of heliographic instruments or telegraph wires, which were at
the disposal of the British. Our reinforcements often arrived too late
at the scene of action because the reports were delayed on the way, and
so a battle was lost where a victory might have been secured.

The number of able-bodied men that the Republics could put in the field
against the British forces was extremely limited. They had to contend
against great numbers, and these numbers were reinforced from time to
time. While the Boer numbers decreased, those of the enemy increased. It
was certainly an heroic action on the part of two small republics to
enter upon a contest with the British Empire, not to say with England,
but was it not more heroic for these untrained farmers to confront and
defy the overwhelming numbers brought against them? Surely this, if
nothing else, should entitle the Boer to a place in the history of
nations. Is this not proof sufficient that, when their Governments with
their consent despatched an ultimatum, it was not arrogance which
prompted them to take up arms against the British, but steadfast
determination to vindicate their sacred rights at any price?

As to the numbers that were employed during the war, the official
statement of the War Department makes the number of officers and
soldiers that were engaged in active service in South Africa about
500,000. To this must be added the number of armed natives, which would
increase the sum total considerably. The Boer estimates vary, yet we do
not hesitate to state that not more, but rather less, than 50,000 Boers
were ever in the field. Of these a large proportion usually remained in
the laagers, and never fired a shot at the enemy. After Prinsloo's
surrender there were hardly 8,000 men still in the field. According to
these numbers, the odds were ten to one. According to other authorities,
the odds were even greater. One English writer says: "What glory shall a
mighty empire win from a victory over 15,000 farmers? We are forcing
upon our army the cruel humiliation of beating our enemy by sheer force
of fifteen against one; we who used to boast that one Briton was a match
for any three of his foes." The official returns at the close of the war
substantiates the above figures, and show that it has not by any means
been exaggerated. General De Wet, on being asked how long he thought the
war would last if the numbers could be inverted, remarked: "As long as
it would take to cable defeat to England." We do not wonder that some of
the burghers eventually became discouraged and surrendered to the foe,
especially when we think how great the odds were against which they had
to contend month after month. We are rather surprised that so many did
not become disheartened, but unflinchingly maintained the struggle until
their Governments and leaders advised a general surrender.

Not only had we to confront such overpowering numbers, but these forces
were under the control of England's most distinguished generals, men
who combined practical experience with the advantage of a military
training. These generals for the most part had achieved glory and renown
in many a campaign--in Afghanistan, Egypt, and elsewhere--and thus came
to South Africa, not to get their first lessons in warfare, but as
experienced leaders of a great army. With such men to lead the British
forces on to battle, if not to victory, three months were considered all
too long by many to crush and wipe out of existence two small republics.

Opposed to these (famous) British officers stood the inexperienced Boer
leaders. What a contrast! The Boer officers, with very few exceptions,
were men without a shadow of military training, some even poorly
developed mentally. They were, with few exceptions, peasants pure and
simple, who left their ploughfields and flocks to take upon themselves
the command over no less inexperienced burghers. These Boer leaders,
elected by the people in times of peace, went to the front without the
least practical knowledge of warfare. True, a few of them, such as
Cronje, De la Rey, and Prinsloo had been leaders in Kaffir wars, and in
such the burghers placed implicit confidence. Needless almost to state
that in most of these so-called Kaffir warriors the Boers were utterly
disappointed. It was one thing to attack natives badly armed, it was
another thing to face an organised army well equipped with death-dealing
instruments. We were thus at a great disadvantage at the commencement of
hostilities as far as leaders were concerned. Gradually our staff of
officers was improved, for the best men came to the front, and some of
the older officers, who were unfit, were replaced by younger and abler
ones. All these changes, however, took a long time, and were not
effected before we had been subjected to two great disasters: one that
of Cronje's capture on the 27th of February, 1900, the other, Prinsloo's
surrender on the 1st of August, 1900, disasters which proved decisive
epochs in the Anglo-Boer war.

Some of the Boer leaders, though inexperienced and untrained, proved
themselves quite a match for their opponents. They have astonished
military circles by their valorous actions and daring enterprises, and
have merited imperishable honour and glory. Well may we be proud of
leaders such as Louis Botha, Christian De Wet, and Jacobus De la Rey,
men whose names deserve a place in the rolls of history. We were
fortunate in securing the services of such men at a time when they were
most needed. No doubt it was to the advantage and not, as some maintain,
to the disadvantage of the Free State burghers when C.R. De Wet was
elected Hoofd Commandant at Brandfort in March, 1900. He, too, was but a
farmer; culture he lacked, military training he had none, but the spark
of martial genius had fallen and kindled in his breast. In figure,
manner, and dress he was hardly distinguishable from hundreds of his
countrymen, who were not sharers of his military abilities. Does not his
broad forehead indicate thoughtfulness? While his keen and penetrating
eyes and firmly set lips are marks of determination and singleness of
purpose. And his broad chin, does it not reveal the man of tenacity and
endurance? As an individual he was sympathetic, generous, and
magnanimous; he was endowed with discretion and tact, simplicity and
honesty. As a soldier, vigilant, persevering, never indiscreet in anger
or disappointment, but always courageous and resourceful. Recognizing
the advantages of a surprise, he never lost an opportunity of harassing
the enemy. Through his rare topographical knowledge of his country he
baffled the foe by his movements time and again. Followed up by
overwhelming numbers, he was compelled more often to evade fighting than
offer battle. Never unduly elated, he was bravest and supreme when all
others lost heart. He had to contend against treachery, desertion and
want, but rose above all these obstacles, and proved himself the most
powerful obstructor that the British columns had to encounter in South
Africa. Such a man was a boon to his country, and to him the burghers
confidently entrusted themselves and their interests. He has proved
himself worthy of that trust. But all were not De Wets. There were,
alas! Prinsloos, Vilonels, etc., too.

So much for the Boer officers. As regards our rank and file, they were
as inexperienced in military matters as most of their leaders. The Boer
is no soldier in the technical sense of the term. He was never subjected
to military discipline, and unaccustomed to any restrictions. It took
him months to realise the absolute necessity for and inestimable value
of good discipline. The burghers looked upon themselves as volunteers,
and such they really were. Now, when the enemy had to be attacked in
their forts or strongholds, the Boer officers had to call out
volunteers, as it was hazardous to lay too much pressure on the burghers
to charge any position without their consent. To exercise too great
power or authority over burghers was, at all times, especially at the
beginning of the war, a risky thing. The officers knew well that the
Boer is more easily led than driven.

Corps such as the Johannesburg and Swaziland Police and the Staats
Artillery of the Transvaal and Orange Free State, which had the benefit
of military training and discipline, proved their superiority over the
rest of the burgher forces, and greatly distinguished themselves in the
South African campaign. If all the burghers had had the same training as
these corps, greater successes might have crowned their efforts during
the early part of the war. The soldier, on the contrary, is no
volunteer. His wishes are never consulted; when instructed to march on,
he has to obey, though it may mean certain death to him, as was so often
the case.

Another point of great disadvantage to the Boers is the lamentable fact
that thousands of the surrendered and captured burghers enlisted in the
British ranks as "National Scouts." This, viewed from the Boer
standpoint, is the darkest spot in the South African campaign. Gladly
would we dismiss this matter without any further comment, for it merits
silent contempt, but we cannot help noting at what a terrible
disadvantage we were placed by the action of these "National Scouts." As
they made common cause with the enemy they furnished the latter from
time to time with full particulars of our tactics, and divulged all our
military secrets to the British. Moreover, they served the British
forces as guides and led them forth at dead of night to surprise their
countrymen in their secret, and otherwise unknown, retreats, where they
were often captured or shot down by the enemy. Before these enlisted,
night assaults by the English were out of the question. It was perfectly
safe to bivouac some six miles from the enemy. For when the British did
make a move during the night, they usually lost their way, as was the
case when Gatacre undertook a night march on the Stormberg positions.
With Boers as guides it was possible for the English forces to assume
tactics hitherto untried by them.

Ah! brother, national scout, who may be reading this, do you not regret
and lament the unhappy part of traitor? Are your hands not stained with
the blood of your countrymen? And your conscience, is that not tarnished
with the blood of men, women and children, who fell in Freedom's holy
war? We do not despise but we pity you, and wish it were otherwise.

Not only did these "National Scouts" lead the British to the Boers, but
they were the principal instruments in the hands of the enemy to clear
the Republics of all foodstuffs and ammunition. They knew precisely
where their fellow-burghers had stored away their meal, corn, fodder,
and ammunition, knew where the oxen and sheep were grazing, and
forthwith to these they conducted the enemy's forces, and thus was
brought to pass that state of affairs which necessitated the Boers to
lay down their arms. Without the assistance of the deserted burghers it
would have taken the enemy ever so much longer to have exhausted the
Republics entirely of all their resources. To a large extent these very
republicans who sided with their country's enemies became the despoilers
of the once so fair Republics. Ah me, that this should be recorded!

Besides, by assisting the enemy they not only encouraged them, but
greatly discouraged their brethren in the field. The burgher who really
meant well naturally became disheartened that those who fought with him
for one and the same object could turn against him and play such a low
and treacherous part. How men, who have stooped to deeds so mean and
foul, shall defend their loathsome actions at the bar of Conscience and
Justice, I know not.

In addition to the "National Scouts"--as though these were not more than
sufficient--we had to contend against thousands of blacks, aboriginal
natives armed by the British and taken up in their ranks. We naturally
felt indignant at the adoption of coloured races in the British army;
for we regarded it as an unwritten agreement between the respective
Governments that no blacks were to be involved in the war. It was to be
white _versus_ white, Boer _versus_ Briton. Hence, when the natives
became embroiled in the struggle we refused to acknowledge and treat
them as combatants. No quarter was given to armed natives that were not
British subjects, and even these forfeited their lives on more than one
occasion. This action, regarded superficially, may seem cruel and
unjust, but remembering that war had not been declared against the
natives, and also that, if we did treat them as English soldiers, we
would simply have courted the opposition of all the natives, it does not
seem quite so cruel and unjust. We had to resort to severe measures so
as to let the natives fully realise that they were not acknowledged
combatants, and thus could not claim the privileges of combatants.
Surely the odds were already great enough--why then adopt blacks? We
hold that the Military Government was not justified in the use of armed
natives, and surely their adoption did not tend to the glory and honour
of the British arms in South Africa.

Again, one must remember that for fully eighteen months we were entirely
dependent upon the enemy for all military supplies. Our limited
resources were soon exhausted, and, as the English controlled all the
ports, the importation of arms, ammunition, horses, saddles, foodstuffs,
and other necessaries, was out of the question.

The general opinion as to the duration of the war was that it would or
could only last till the limited supply of Boer ammunition was spent.
This limited supply, however, like the widow's oil, was not exhausted
even after two years and eight months, and certainly never would as long
as British factories provided rifles, ammunition, and other military
equipments.

For eighteen months we were provided, directly or indirectly, by the
British Government with the necessaries of war. Britain was supporting
two armies in the field, armies which were not animated by a very
friendly spirit toward each other. Our support, however, demanded at
times the sacrifice of precious lives. When a commando ran short of
ammunition a determined onslaught to secure more was planned, and often
successfully carried out. The ammunition was obtained, but, alas! it
cost them the blood of some of their bravest men. Such dependence was a
great drawback to us. The Home Government also indirectly provided the
fighting Boers with clothes. At first the burgher had his own private
supply of clothing; but when the policy of destruction was resorted to
his clothes were consumed by the flames, and he had to apply to the
British Government for others. And this is how he did it. When he made a
prisoner he would exchange clothes with him, provided better ones were
thus secured, which was not always the case. With a certain amount of
etiquette and dignity, this bargain was closed. Tommy, without any
demonstration or remonstrance, would take off his jacket, pants and
boots, and hand these to his brother Boer, with some such remark: "I
don't grudge you it, sir--I know you fellows need them clothes badly;
we have burnt yours, we shall get others again." "Out boots, out
trousers, out jacket," were the abrupt commands of some of the Boers who
had but little English.

To put an end to this process of exchanging outfits, Lord Kitchener
issued a proclamation which forbade, under penalty of death, any
fighting Boer to dress in khaki. This proclamation was not heeded, for
the simple reason that men who had the interests of their country at
heart were not likely to surrender because their clothes were wearing
out. This threat but added one more to the many risks of death they ran.
And so a few of these unfortunate burghers, captured in khaki dress
because they had no other, were shot in accordance with the
proclamation. This did not, however, intimidate the rest, for at the
close of the war several hundreds were dressed in the dirty khaki hue.

In conclusion we note one point more, which counted seriously against
the late Republics. It was this: the field of operations became more and
more circumscribed and narrowed down by the extension of the
blockhouses. The two Republics were divided, so to speak, into a great
many little states by the blockhouse lines. The Free State alone was
divided into at least eight or nine sections. Now these divisions,
fenced round on every side, were cleared, one after the other, of all
cattle, sheep, and other foodstuff. The British concentrated their
forces in each section and operated there until it resembled a
wilderness. And so they went from one division to another, until finally
almost the whole country--both Transvaal and Free State--was denuded and
in a semi-famine state. Owing to this confined and limited area in which
we had to move, it was absolutely impossible for us to safeguard our war
supplies.

Another result of this restricted area was the release of all
prisoners-of-war taken by us. Thousands were captured, disarmed, and
released to take up arms the next day. The same soldier has been
captured two, three, and four times over. In this way it was impossible
to reduce the forces of the enemy to any appreciable extent. The Boers
certainly would have taken greater pains and dared more to capture the
enemy's forces if they too had had a place of confinement; but no Ceylon
or Bermudas were at their disposal. If they had had any such place, the
Imperial Yeomanry and others would not have surrendered perhaps quite so
readily. It certainly was a great misfortune to the late Republics that
they could not retain their prisoners-of-war, while every Boer prisoner
was either deported or guarded so securely, that, when once captured, he
was entirely lost for the Boer cause. Under such unfavourable
circumstances we had to fight our battle. It was against the stream all
along. If ever there was an unequal contest, surely ours was one.

To show that we have by no means exaggerated the conditions in which we
fought, we shall record here the resolution passed on the 31st of May,
1902, by the Volks Congress held at Vereeniging on the Vaal River, which
reads as follows:--

     "This meeting of Representatives of the people of the South African
     Republic and Orange Free State, held at Vereeniging, has learnt
     with regret of the proposal made by his Majesty's Government in
     regard to the cessation of existing hostilities, and of the
     intimation that this proposal must be accepted or rejected in an
     unaltered form.

     "The meeting regrets that his Majesty's Government has absolutely
     refused to negotiate with the Governments of the Republics upon the
     basis of our Independence, or to permit our Governments to enter
     into communication with our Deputation.

     "Our Peoples have, indeed, always thought that not only on the
     ground of Right, but also on the ground of the great material and
     personal sacrifices that they have made for their Independence,
     they have a just claim to such Independence.

     "This meeting has earnestly taken into consideration the condition
     of land and people, and has more especially taken into account the
     following facts:--

     "(1.) That the military tactics pursued by the British military
     authorities has led to the entire ruin of the territory of both
     Republics, with burning of farms and towns, destruction of all
     means of subsistence, and exhaustion of all sources necessary for
     the support of our families, for the maintenance of our forces in
     the field, and for the continuation of the war.

     "(2.) That the placing of our captured families in the
     concentration camps has led to an unprecedented condition of
     suffering and disease, so that within a comparatively short time
     about 20,000 of those dear to us have perished there, and the
     horrible prospect has arisen that by continuing the war our entire
     race might be exterminated.

     "(3.) That the Kaffir tribes within and without the borders of the
     territories of both Republics are almost all armed and take part in
     the struggle against us, and by perpetrating murders and committing
     all kinds of horrors, an impossible state of affairs has been
     brought about in many districts of both Republics, an instance of
     which took place lately in the district of Vryheid, where fifty-six
     burghers were murdered and mutilated in a shocking manner at the
     same time.

     "(4.) That by Proclamation of the enemy, which he has already
     carried into effect, the burghers still in the field are threatened
     with loss of all their movable and immovable property, and so with
     total ruin.

     "(5.) That through the circumstances of the war it has already long
     ago become impossible for us to retain the many thousands of
     prisoners-of-war taken by our forces, and that we thus could do but
     comparatively little damage to the British troops, whilst our
     burghers captured by the British are sent abroad; and that after
     the war has raged for nearly three years there remains only a small
     portion of the forces with which we entered into the war.

     "(6.) That this remnant still in the field, which forms but a small
     minority of our entire people, has to contend against overwhelming
     odds, and, moreover, has reached a condition virtually amounting to
     famine and want of the necessary means of subsistence, and that
     notwithstanding our utmost endeavours and the sacrifice of all that
     we value and hold dear, we cannot reasonably expect a successful
     issue.

     "This meeting is therefore of opinion that there is no reasonable
     ground for thinking that by continuance of the war our People will
     retain the possession of their Independence, and considers that
     under the circumstances the People are not justified in carrying on
     the war any longer, as that must tend to bring about the social and
     material destruction not only of ourselves, but also of our
     descendants.

     "Urged by the above circumstances and motives, this meeting
     authorises both Governments to accept the proposal of his Majesty's
     Government, and on behalf of the People of both Republics to sign
     the same."

Such was the condition of the two Republics at the termination of the
war. Well may one pause and ask: Has ever small nation, in similar
circumstances, placed greater sacrifices, personal and material, on
Liberty's shrine than the Republics? Have they not a lawful claim to
that independence for which they fought so gallantly and so desperately,
and for which they offered, ah! so much--their homes, their beloved
families, their possessions and their lives?

Shall any still that stood afar off and watched the struggle, maybe
sympathetically, or with cold indifference--shall they blame us for
having surrendered? Verily not; for it cannot rationally be expected
that a handful of farmers could offer resistance indefinitely, without
any assistance, to a rich and mighty empire. The leaking vessel may ride
to and fro for a while on the stormy billows, but eventually she is
bound to sink; the shipwrecked mariner may struggle and swim, but,
exhausted and powerless, he too goes down to find his last rest in the
bosom of the deep. This was the case of the Republics. On the stormy
billows of the ocean of war they were tossed hither and thither for
nearly three years. Time and again they cried and signalled for relief,
but no life-boats were sent to their rescue. None heeded their cry, or
had compassion on them. The nations stood and looked on, sympathised and
pitied, but did not help. And so, after all their strength was spent in
trying to save the vessel of their independence, the gallant crew, with
ship and all, sank beneath the waves of conquest.

CHAPTER IX.

THE BOER AS SEEN IN THE LIGHT OF THE WAR.

        People tell
    Of an old savage.

                  _Omar Khayyam_.

    'E 'asn't got no papers of his own,
    'E 'asn't got no medals nor rewards,
    So we must certify the skill 'e's shown.

                  _Rudyard Kipling._

It is with reluctance we approach a subject on which in past years so
much has been written, often falsely. Besides, it is certainly a most
delicate matter to expatiate on the character of any individual or
nation.

We are aware that some of our readers will read the remarks on this
subject--Boer character--with considerable suspicion and distrust. They
may argue that the writers, being of Dutch extraction themselves, are
not likely to give an accurate and dispassionate estimate of the
character of their own people. They may even fear that our national
sentiments might influence and predominate over our judgment, and switch
us off the track of strict impartiality. If there be such, we can only
assure them that we have no intention whatsoever of eulogising and
extolling the race with which we are connected by blood.

[Illustration: EX-PRESIDENT STEYN.

_Photo by Duffus Bros., Capetown._]

In the past the Boers, _i.e._, the Dutch element in the late Republics,
have frequently been described, and as often maligned, by men who were
perfect strangers to them; men who had not taken the least trouble to
study their habits and character so as to arrive at a better
understanding of the people they were trying to describe. Hence the
various contradictory statements and representations of one and the
same people. Alas! that they should ever have been the victims of so
much cheap slander, that some men should have vied with one another in
heaping insult and infamy on their heads, while others conjured up for
themselves a fantastic and outrageous monster, and called that a Boer.
We cannot expect that minds so inflamed and exasperated would do justice
to the Boers. We feel convinced that their character can only be
portrayed correctly and justly by men not animated by hostile sentiments
towards them, but who, having been in touch with them have generously
entered into their feelings and aspirations, and have looked at things
from the Boer standpoint, as well as from their own; men who have had
patience to bear with their infirmities; in a word, by men from their
very midst--such and such only could do justice to their character.

Born and bred among the Dutch, associated with them all our lives, Dutch
ourselves every inch--a fact in which we glory--our relations to the
Boers, specially during the war, have afforded us excellent
opportunities of making an ethnological study of them. During the war
the Dutch population, more especially that portion of it which was
directly connected with the struggle, passed through various phases and
changes of life. Subjected to the most harassing circumstances, one saw
them at their worst, but also at their best. Their virtues, as well as
their vices, were fanned by the breath of war. Many a hidden virtue
sparkled forth, as the dewdrop glistens in the beams of the rising sun.
Many a slumbering vice and latent evil inclination found the regions of
discord and strife a fruitful soil for development.

Now that hostilities have ceased, and the liberties of speech and the
Press are extended once more, not only to such as were or are possessed
of the bitterest of feelings towards the Dutch, but to all British
subjects, we feel constrained to dissipate, if possible, some of the
clouds of slander which encompassed the Boers before and during the war.
Never in the history of nations has an honourable foe been more abused
than the Boers. They have been misrepresented altogether to the world at
large, and to the public in England in particular.

The war-Press, the platform, and even the pulpit, were all arrayed in
martial order against them, and belched forth streams of abuse on two
small states. A warm glow comes over our faces, and the blood begins to
surge swiftly through our veins, as we recall some of the stinging
expressions by which the Boers were stigmatised, and through which the
mind of the English public was more and more inflamed, and all traces of
sympathy with the Boers removed. We do not wish to enumerate these
descriptive terms and phrases, for that would be raking up old scores.
We would rather forget than remember unpleasant words and deeds.

We must, however, direct our attention briefly to the platform and
pulpit, not to mention the Press, which were so successful in exercising
an influence calculated to intensify race-hatred and obstruct the way to
any peaceful settlement of political disputes.

When the Uitlanders in Johannesburg became dissatisfied with the
existing state of affairs, and began to ask for greater privileges, they
betook themselves to the platform. Now the Boers had no objection to
their forming political organizations, or holding public meetings in
which they could agitate for redress of grievances. But what they did
object to, and very strongly, was the blatant manner in which these
Uitlanders referred to their governments and themselves. Instead of
exercising the art of "gentle persuasion" by laying their grievances
before the Transvaal Government in the form of a polite request, and so
achieving their desired object, these Uitlanders resorted to the policy
of _fortiter in re_, the policy of intimidation, by threatening the
Boers with the right arm of the British Empire unless they granted their
requests instantly. When they adopted this method of procedure, they
naturally did not get what they wanted. So they agitated and cried for
redress of grievances until the unhappy war was brought about. Not only
in South Africa, but also in England thousands were misled by these
platform agitators, who were bent on placing the Dutch in a false light
before the civilized world.

And the pulpit, as represented by some ministers not only of the Church
of England, but also of the Nonconformist Churches, ministers of the
gospel of peace on earth and good-will towards man--what an attitude did
it assume! Surely if these clergymen had been as eager to promote peace
as they were zealous to set in motion the waters of strife, they might,
have accomplished a work meriting eternal reward. Alas! that some who
are, or call themselves, followers of the Prince of Peace should have
favoured a war of destruction, and been led to say very hard things and
utter unfounded charges against the Dutch.

To cite only one of many instances, the Rev. Dr. Hertz, writing from
Lourenço Marques, worded his letter thus:--

     "We are safe, having left all we possess in the world behind us,
     and in all probability shall never see a single thing of it again.
     When I found the game the President and his crew were playing I
     thought it best to clear out ... The Boers have threatened to kill,
     burn, and destroy everything and everybody, _women_ and _children_,
     and some of them at least are bad enough to do it. I had the verbal
     assurance of the President that I could stay safe and undisturbed,
     but he would not put anything in writing. Then they appointed a