Three Years' War. Christiaan Rudolf De Wet
in."
"What can be the meaning of this?" we ask one another.
Lying, sitting or standing, each of us is now at his post, and staring out into the darkness, expecting an attack every moment. We hold our breath and listen. Is there no sound of approaching footsteps? And now the light increases. Is it possible? Yes, our eyes do not deceive us. The enemy is gone.
Surprise and joy are on every face. One hears on all sides the exclamation, "If only Cronje would make the attempt now." It was the morning of the 25th of February.
But the enemy were not to leave us alone for long. By nine o'clock they were advancing upon us again, with both right and left wing reinforced. I had only a few shots left for the Krupp, and thirty for the Maxim-Nordenfeldt, and this last ammunition must now be expended on the wings. One gun I despatched to the right, the other to the left, and the English were checked in their advance. I had ordered the gunners, as soon as they had fired their last round to bring their guns into safe positions in the direction of Petrusberg. Very soon I observed that this order was being executed, and thus learnt that the ammunition had run out.
The burghers who, with their rifles, had attempted to hold back the wings, now having no longer any support from the big guns, were unable to stand their ground against the overpowering forces of the enemy, and shortly after the guns were removed, I saw them retreat.
What was I to do? I was being bombarded incessantly, and since the morning had been severely harassed by small-arm fire. All this, however, I could have borne, but now the enemy began to surround me. It was a hard thing to be thus forced to abandon the key to General Cronje's escape.
In all haste I ordered my men to retire. They had seen throughout that this was unavoidable, and had even said to me:
"If we remain here, General, we shall be surrounded with General Cronje."
All made good their retreat, with the exception of Veldtcornet Speller, of Wepener, who, to my great regret, was taken prisoner there with fourteen men. That occurred owing to my adjutant forgetting, in the general confusion, to give them my orders to retreat. When Speller found that he, with his fourteen men, was left behind, he defended himself, as I heard later, with great valour, until at last he was captured by overpowering numbers. It cost the English a good many dead and wounded to get him out of his schanzes.
Although I had foreseen that our escape would be a very difficult and lengthy business, I had not thought that we should have been in such danger of being made prisoners. But the English had very speedily taken up positions to the right and left, with guns and Maxims, and for a good nine miles of our retreat we were under their fire. Notwithstanding the fact that during the whole of this time we were also harassed by small-arm fire, we lost—incredible as it may appear—not more than one killed and one wounded, and a few horses besides. The positions which we had abandoned the British now occupied, hemming in General Cronje so closely that he had not the slightest chance of breaking through their lines.
No sooner had we got out of range of the enemy's fire, than the first of the reinforcements, which we had expected from Bloemfontein, arrived, under the command of Vechtgeneraal Andreas Cronje. With him were Commandants Thewnissen, of Winburg, and Vilonel, of Senekal.
A council was at once held as to the best method of effecting the release of General Cronje. It was decided to recapture the positions which I had abandoned. But now the situation was so changed that there were three positions which it was necessary for us to take. We agreed that the attack should be made by three separate parties, that General Philip Botha, with Commandant Thewnissen, should retake the positions which we had abandoned at Stinkfontein, General Froneman the position immediately to the north of these, and I, with General Andreas Cronje, others still further north.
The attack was made on the following morning. General Botha's attempt failed, chiefly owing to the fact that day dawned before he reached his position; a hot fight ensued, resulting in the capture of Commandant Thewnissen and about one hundred men. As I was so placed as to be unable to see how affairs were developing, it is difficult for me to hazard an opinion as to whether Commandant Thewnissen was lacking in caution, or whether he was insufficiently supported by General Botha. The burghers who were present at the engagement accused General Botha, while he declared that Thewnissen had been imprudent. However that may be, we had failed in our essay. The position had not been taken, and Commandant Thewnissen, with a hundred whom we could ill spare, were in the hands of the enemy, And to make matters still worse, our men were already seized with panic, arising from the now hopeless plight of General Cronje and his large force.
I, however, was not prepared to abandon all hope as yet. Danie Theron, that famous captain of despatch-riders, had arrived on the previous day with reinforcements. I asked him if he would take a verbal message to General Cronje—I dare not send a written one, lest it should fall into the hands of the English. Proud and distinct the answer came at once—the only answer which such a hero as Danie Theron could have given:
"Yes, General, I will go."
The risk which I was asking him to run could not have been surpassed throughout the whole of our sanguinary struggle.
I took him aside, and told him that he must go and tell General Cronje that our fate depended upon the escape of himself and of the thousands with him, and that, if he should fall into the enemy's hands, it would be the death-blow to all our hopes. Theron was to urge Cronje to abandon the laager, and everything contained in it, to fight his way out by night, and to meet me at two named places, where I would protect him from the pursuit of the English.
Danie Theron undertook to pass the enemy's lines, and to deliver my message. He started on his errand on the night of the 25th of February.
The following evening I went to the place of meeting, but to my great disappointment General Cronje did not appear.
On the morning of the 27th of February Theron returned. He had performed an exploit unequalled in the war. Both in going and returning he had crawled past the British sentries, tearing his trousers to rags during the process. The blood was running from his knees, where the skin had been scraped off. He told me that he had seen the General, who had said that he did not think that the plan which I had proposed had any good chance of success.
At ten o'clock that day, General Cronje surrendered. Bitter was my disappointment. Alas! my last attempt had been all in vain. The stubborn General would not listen to good advice.
I must repeat here what I have said before, that as far as my personal knowledge of General Cronje goes, it is evident to me that his obstinacy in maintaining his position must be ascribed to the fact that it was too much to ask him—intrepid hero that he was—to abandon the laager. His view was that he must stand or fall with it, nor did he consider the certain consequences of his capture. He never realized that it would be the cause of the death of many burghers, and of indescribable panic throughout not only all the laagers on the veldt, but even those of Colesberg, Stormberg and Ladysmith. If the famous Cronje were captured, how could any ordinary burgher be expected to continue his resistance?
It may be that it was the will of God, who rules the destinies of all nations, to fill thus to the brim the cup which we had to empty, but this consideration does not excuse General Cronje's conduct. Had he but taken my advice, and attempted a night attack, he might have avoided capture altogether.
I have heard men say that as the General's horses had all been killed, the attempt which I urged him to make must have failed—that at all events he would have been pursued and overtaken by Lord Roberts' forces. The answer to this is not far to seek. The English at that time did not employ as scouts Kaffirs and Hottentots, who could lead them by night as well as by day. Moreover, with the reinforcements I had received, I had about sixteen hundred men under me, and they would have been very useful in holding back the enemy, until Cronje had made his escape.
No words can describe my feelings when I saw that Cronje had surrendered, and noticed the result which this had on the burghers. Depression and discouragement were written on every face. The effects of this blow, it is not too much to say, made themselves apparent to the very end of