Chapter 5
On approaching the bonfire we heard more voices--Dutch this time. We rode up to the group standing round the fire. Several friends came forward to greet us, and we became aware that this was the President's party--about thirty men in all.
"Where are your sentries?" I asked.
"Just going out now."
"Who is in charge?"
"The President's secretary."
Calling the latter aside, I said--
"I don't wish to cause an alarm, but on coming along about a mile from here we heard men calling to each other in English. At one o'clock the British were only fifteen miles from here; your bonfire may have drawn a patrol hither."
"What is it? Who has arrived?" asked Steyn, coming out of his tent. We gave him all the information we had gained. He immediately ordered all lights to be extinguished, and sent the guard to find out what the voices meant. All were relieved when it turned out to have been merely a couple of the President's bodyguard searching for their horses.
Early the next morning a couple of deserters were brought in. They had been caught trying to slip past in the night. One said he had a sick son at home, and was only going to see him, perhaps for the last time. The other was going home to fetch better horses, and so forth. They were so unfortunate as to call upon the Deity to testify to the truth of their assertions. This roused Steyn's ire.
"How dare you be guilty of such sacrilege?" he cried. "It is this cursed habit of yours of using God's name upon every trivial occasion that makes our enemies think us a nation of hypocrites! Back to your commandoes at once!"
The men slunk away. We enjoyed their discomfiture in a measure, for, with all reverence for true religion, it must be confessed that many of these gentry thought psalm-singing all that was required of them, and did not hesitate to leave their less "elect" brethren to bear the brunt of the fighting.
After breakfast I walked down to the telegraph line connecting Heilbron and Frankfort, which ran past this point. Taking about ten yards of "cable" wire, I cleaned about a foot of it in the middle, tied one end to my spanner, and threw the latter over the line. The swing carried it over a second time, the two ends hanging just above the ground. Attaching one end to the instrument, I heard the English telegraphist in Heilbron calling up Kroonstadt, and the Boer telegraphist in Frankfort working to Reitz.
I immediately climbed the pole and cut the Frankfort side of the line. Then I took another piece of cable, and connected the earth terminal of the vibrator with the telegraph pole. The British signals now came through beautifully clear. The first message that passed was one from General Hamilton to Lord Roberts, announcing his arrival at Heilbron, the details of the two engagements fought during the march, the number of killed and wounded, and the state of his force--"often hungry, but cheerful." Then followed some others of lesser importance. The President's party were just driving away. I left my assistant with the vibrator, ran across to the road, and handed His Honour the messages. He smiled as he read the report and appeared highly gratified. After a few words of encouragement to me he drove on, and I returned to the line. The signals were now so weak, however, that nothing could be distinguished.
We saddled our horses and rode towards Heilbron, intending to try again closer to the town. We had not gone far before the captain of the despatch riders and one of his men overtook us. They had been ordered by the President to place themselves at my disposition. Four men would have attracted too much attention, however, and I persuaded them to return. We two rode on until almost on top of the hill overlooking Heilbron, when we dismounted. Drawing the horses behind a low stone wall, we attached the instrument to the line. I listened. There were no fewer than five different vibrators calling each other, some strong and clear, others sounding weak and far, like "horns of Elfland faintly blowing." Presently the disputing signals died away, and one musical note alone took up the strain.
Never was lover more absorbed in the thrilling sound of his divinity's voice than I in the notes of that vibrator, seemingly wailing up from the bowels of the earth.
Nor was my attention unrewarded.
"From Chief of Staff, Honingspruit," came the words, "to General Hamilton, Heilbron." Then followed orders. How Hamilton was to march from Heilbron; how Broadwood was to move from Ventersburg, the entire plan of campaign for the next few weeks! A mass of information to gladden the heart of our steadfast chief. "Hurrah!" we whispered to each other, as I carefully put the precious message in a safe place.
Then some harsh, grating sounds were heard in the microphone. The wires were evidently being overhauled in Heilbron. Complete silence followed. Hearing a couple of shots fired on our left, we removed all traces of our work and rode back to our starting-point, well satisfied with the valuable information we had so fortunately obtained. I at once sent my assistant after the President with the despatch. Fearing that the enemy might send a patrol here during the night, I left for Frankfort, and arrived there at midnight. Before leaving, however, I had instructed my assistant to join up the line where I had cut it, if upon his return the next morning he should find the place still free from the enemy.
I MEET DE WET
The little village of Frankfort was wrapped in slumbering darkness when I entered it. Cold and hungry after the five hours' journey, I did not scruple to knock up the Postmaster. With an instinct of good-fellowship that did him credit, he at once made me welcome; breaking up a couple of empty boxes, we made a rattling fire, and soon big gulps of cocoa were chasing the last few shivers from my wearied frame.
My last thought as I wrapped my blanket round me and stretched myself out on the floor was of the despatch I had sent after the President. Suppose my messenger lost the document or was captured! But I would soon know, for if I found the line joined through at eight o'clock, according to my orders, it would be a proof that he had returned and found the coast clear.
The little office was crowded with busy clerks when I opened my eyes the next morning. Casting a rapid glance at the clock, I saw it was almost eight. There was no time to lose. I grasped the useful little vibrator with one hand, flung the blanket into a corner with the other, and set off, calling to the native servant to follow with a ladder. It was not advisable to operate under the eyes of the townspeople, so I marched across the bridge and into the veld, until a suitable spot was reached. No sooner had I thrown my wire over the line than I again heard British and Dutch signals intermingled. Good! My message was safe.
The Kafir shinned up the pole and cut the wire, permitting the British signals only to come through. I listened intently to the various more or less interesting messages being exchanged by the enemy. Presently a new and stronger note broke in--
"Hello! Here, Sergeant-Major Devons. Who are you?"
Devons? Those are the fellows that we fought at Ladysmith. But what--how comes he here? Listen----
"Here, Heilbron. We're just waiting to leave. Crowds of Boers on the hills."
"Ah! I say, I've pushed on, quite by myself, for fully twelve miles," said the hoarse note of the non-com.'s vibrator. "When I reached Roberts' Horse the chief said I was d----d lucky to get through!"
"Good on you!" replied his admiring hearer. "This is a bit different from old Tyneside, ain't it?"
"Cheer up; we shall soon be in Pretoria."
"Confound you!" said I, dashing my fist on the key, "you're not there yet!"
To prevent myself from interrupting them, advertently or otherwise, I had taken the precaution to disconnect the battery, so my little outbreak did no harm.
Then the sergeant-major sent a long message to his chief, Captain Faustnett, duly informing the latter of the distance he had come, all by himself, and of what the officer commanding Roberts' Horse had said, after which the Heilbron man remarked--
"Good-bye, we're off." Silence followed.
The net result of the morning's work was the knowledge that Hamilton was leaving Heilbron at that very moment, and leaving it ungarrisoned. This information I hastened to communicate to my chief, with the result that within a very short space of time we were again in telegraphic communication with that town and in possession of several hundred sick and wounded that the British had kindly left to our care. At Spion Kop we wanted their wounded, but did not get them; here we did not want them in the least, but we got them all the same.
My next task was the maintenance of the fence line between Frankfort and Reitz. A testing station had been established half-way between the two villages, consequently the communication was fairly good and there was not much for me to do. One day a message arrived from my chief in Pretoria, asking me to go thither, and accompany him northwards when the capital should be abandoned. The Postmaster-General of the Free State, however, insisted upon my remaining a few days longer.
A little while after De Wet's commando entered the village about a thousand strong. The rumour went that De Wet was going to rest for a week and then strike a heavy blow. No sooner had the column halted on the bank of the river than De Wet himself rode over to our office, accompanied by his secretary. They wrote out a few telegrams, and then De Wet entered into conversation with the Postmaster-General. His tone and manner lacked the slightest cordiality. He asked the Postmaster-General whether he was sure, quite sure, that the British side of our telegraph lines was always cut, so that the enemy could not tap our messages. Yes, the chief was quite sure. But De Wet thought it best that instructions to that effect should be re-issued, so as to leave no excuse for any possible negligence. This suggestion was carried out on the spot.
The chief then introduced me to De Wet. Compared with Louis Botha, or almost any other of our generals, De Wet presented but a sorry sight. His manners are uncouth, and his dress careless to a degree. His tactlessness, abrupt speech, and his habit of thrusting his tongue against his palate at every syllable, do not lessen his undeniable unattractiveness. But De Wet, if he lacks culture, certainly has an abundance of shrewdness, and is not without some dignity at times. And I must confess that it is chiefly owing to De Wet and Steyn that the war did not end with the fall of Pretoria. What is the secret of his success? This, he has one idea, one only--the independence of his country. Say to him--
"If the English win----" and he breaks in--
"If the heavens fall----"
Choosing his lieutenants by results only, he is assured of good service. An incorrect report, and the unlucky scout is tried by court-martial.
Whilst giving this modern Cincinnatus due credit for his undoubted smartness, it must be borne in mind that the movements of the Free State forces were generally determined by the _Oorlogscommissie_, a body made up of President Steyn, Judge Hertzog, Advocate De Villiers, and two or three other prominent men, whose trained intellects concerted the plan of campaign, De Wet being entrusted with its execution. He had power to alter details according as circumstances might dictate, but that was all.
And he had men to aid him like General Philip Botha (third of three brothers, generals), Commandant Olivier (now captured), Captain Theron (killed near Krugersdorp), besides others whose names have never been heard of, but who, if De Wet were captured to-morrow, would be both willing and able to take his place.
One peculiar feature of the Afrikander character is the complete absence of anything approaching hero-worship. Perhaps this is due to the habit of ascribing success to the favour of Providence. However this may be, it is certain that General Joubert's death hardly excited even a momentary thrill of regret, in spite of his years of service as Commandant-General. As for erecting a monument to the memory of any of our great men, why, we are all equal, they say, and anyone could have done as much.
Notwithstanding this characteristic of the people, De Wet, secure in the favour of the Government, knows how to make himself obeyed and respected. I have seen burghers retreat who, upon being stopped and threatened with death by their officer, have torn open their coats and shouted, "Shoot! Shoot me, if you dare! I shall not turn back!"
I cannot imagine anyone venturing to take up this attitude towards De Wet. He would certainly not hesitate to carry out a threat through any fear of the consequences. And yet it was my fortune to incur his displeasure. It came about in this way. The chief sent for me one day and said--
"You have asked to be allowed to return to the Transvaal. But there is a chance for you to do some very important work just now. Do you mind remaining three or four days longer?"
"Not at all."
"Very well. De Wet leaves to-morrow. You will accompany him. He wants you to tap the British lines near Kroonstad. You may attach yourself to Scheepers' corps, but you will be in no way subordinate to him, and you will use your own discretion in the execution of your duty. He will give you every aid and assistance. Try and get a horse from him, as we are short."
The chief then showed me a map whereon was marked out our line of route. It was evidently going to be an exciting adventure, and I thanked him warmly for having selected me to take part in the expedition. I then went and hunted up Scheepers, whom I found in his tent. This is the same Scheepers who later operated in Cape Colony, and whom Chamberlain has taken such a dislike to. I can assure the Secretary for the Colonies that Scheepers is an amiable and harmless young man, who would probably now be teaching a Sunday-school class had Joseph not been such a dreamer.
"Well, Scheepers," I said, "so I am to accompany you to-morrow. Can you supply me with a horse?"
"That will be difficult," he replied, "but if money can buy one you shall have it."
This seemed good enough. Early the next morning the commando was on the march. Scheepers had kept his word and sent me a horse. It was not an attractive animal outwardly, being of an indefinite shade between white and grey, and with an unnecessary profusion of projections adorning its attenuated frame. However, there was no time to lose, and I mounted the steed, trusting it might possess moral qualities which would atone for its physical defects.
The animal went very well as long as I did not interfere with the bent of its wayward desire, which was to proceed in any direction but the right one. Have you ever steered an extremely willing young thing through her first waltz? If so you will know what my feelings were after the first hour. And now just imagine that the waltz lasted for four hours, and you will have some idea of my sufferings, for that is the length of time I was compelled to spend on the back of my new acquisition.
Scheepers had sent a couple of men on ahead a few days before in order to see if the coast was clear. One of his heliographists and myself now rode ahead of the column, planted a heliograph on a suitable spot, and called up towards a high hill beyond Heilbron, where it had been arranged that the two scouts should be about this hour. Scarcely had our heliograph glittered for a moment in the sun when back from the hill came a long flash of light.
"What news?" we asked.
"All quiet," came the reply.
We returned to the column, which was marching wonderfully slowly, and informed Scheepers, who was pleased to find his men so punctual. As we rode along he asked me a few particulars about the vibrator, wire tapping, and so on. I told him how at Spion Kop the wire failed at the very moment it was needed most.
"Yes," he remarked thoughtfully, "trifles often make all the difference. I had an experience of that myself one night not so long ago. We had laid a nice little trap near Kroonstad, put a charge of dynamite on the rails, placed the men in position, and waited for a train to come along. After a few hours of suspense the latter appeared, and just as it was going over the charge I pressed the button. What do you think happened?"
"The unexpected, I suppose?"
"Precisely. To our disgust the dynamite did not do the rest, and the train puffed tranquilly past. One of my battery wires had become disconnected in the dark, and through that one little detail the whole thing was spoilt."
"At least from your point of view," I said jestingly. "But think what a narrow escape you had yourselves. The train might have stopped, a searchlight might have thrown its piercing gleam over your waiting band, and a volley from a battery of maxims might have strewn the shuddering veld with your palpitating bodies!"
"Oh, no danger of that!" replied Scheepers lightly; "we knew there were no _Graphic_ artists on board!"
Towards sunset the head of the column halted, nine miles from Heilbron, having done only twenty miles during the whole day's march. I say the head of the column, because the body of it was still straggling somewhere along the road, to say nothing of the tail. We went to bed hungry, the men with the waggon being too lazy to make a fire. I consoled myself with the prospect of a good breakfast in Heilbron the next morning, and slept as well as the cold would let me.
ROODEWAL
We were awakened the next morning while it was still dark. I roamed about in the gloom searching for my errant Rosinante. After describing half a dozen circles I returned to the waggon, to find the missing steed no longer astray, but peacefully grazing away about six feet from the aforesaid vehicle. It was a demon of a horse, no doubt about that. We upsaddled and stood shivering in the cold, our ears and noses fast becoming frostbitten, and waited for the body of the column to catch up to us, for it now appeared that everyone had gone to sleep where he pleased the night before. De Wet was in a furious rage.
"I told them we were to be in Heilbron at sunrise!" he shouted. "I wish the British would catch and castrate every one of them, so that they may be old women in reality."
His railing did not accelerate the approach of the loiterers, and it was long after sunrise when we finally made a start for Heilbron--nine miles distant. When we neared the town Scheepers, myself, and another went forward to reconnoitre. What was our surprise to find that the whole place was full of English! They had suddenly entered the town the night before. I at once went back and informed De Wet, who ordered the column to halt and outspan. Testing the telegraph line, I found that whereas there were no British signals audible, our own signals from Frankfort could be heard very plainly. The Frankfort telegraphist was busy calling Heilbron, not knowing that the town had again changed masters. As his was an ordinary Morse instrument I could not communicate with him, but I did the next best thing by cutting the wire. The presence of the enemy in Heilbron was a check for us. We did not expect Colville to come forward so rapidly. It was necessary to modify our plan of campaign, and De Wet and several of the commandants rode to a farm some six miles away to consult with the President, who had pitched his tent at that spot. Scheepers was still away scouting. His men made no effort to prepare any food, and as I was beginning to suffer from hunger the situation was anything but pleasant for me. It is hard to realise the amount of selfishness which generally prevails in a laager or commando. It is a case of everyone for himself. There is no regular distribution of rations every day, as in other armies. The commando is divided into messes of about ten men each. To this mess is given every now and then a live ox and a bag of meal. The ox is killed and cut into biltong, and the meal baked into stormjagers, a kind of dumpling fried in dripping. Now Scheepers' little corps, which consisted of half a dozen men, was probably not very well off itself in the matter of provisions--in any case, they offered me none. The commissariat consisted of nothing but oxen and meal, cold comfort for me. I rode back a couple of miles to a spot where a field telegraph office had been opened. Standing in the open veld under the telegraph line was a Cape cart, under the cart a telegraph instrument. This was the office.
"Can you give me anything to eat?" I asked the telegraphist, one of our most capable men.
"Very sorry," he answered; "I've been here for a week, and no one has troubled to send me any food. I've managed to get a loaf of bread from that farm yonder now and then, but their supply is exhausted, and I don't know what to do next."
"Why don't you ask the President's party for food? We all know they fare well enough."
"I've sent them message after message, but can get no satisfaction. All they think about is the amount of work they can get out of me. Little they care what my troubles are!"
This was really a shameful state of affairs, and I began to grow disgusted with the whole business. Not satisfied with refusing to supply him with food, a passing commando had stolen his cart-horses, so that he had no means of leaving the spot.
It was a clear case of selfish and brutal neglect. I condoled with the poor fellow, and rode back to the laager. De Wet was still absent. It appeared that we were going to lie there for days, instead of the whole expedition being over in a day or two. After thinking the matter over, I decided to return to Frankfort and carry out my intention of going back to the Transvaal. Upon reaching Frankfort I explained the matter to the Postmaster-General, adding that the expedition would probably take a couple of weeks, by which time the Free State would already be cut off from the Transvaal, and my return rendered impossible. He urged upon me, however, to postpone my departure. During the day a telegram arrived from De Wet, saying he had now decided to move forward, and asking that I should accompany him. So convinced was I that his attempt would end in a fiasco, in spite of his knowledge of the enemy's movements, that I persuaded the chief to send another in my place. De Wet was extremely annoyed, but I was foolish enough to insist. Judge of my regret when, a week or so later, we heard of the magnificent blow delivered at Roodewal. After this sudden swoop De Wet returned to the vicinity of Heilbron. The chief and I drove out to his camp. It was interesting to see his entire band clad in complete khaki, with only the flapping, loose-hanging felt hats to show their nationality. Wristlets, watches, spy-glasses, chocolate, cigarettes, were now as common as in ordinary times they were rare. Heliographic and telegraphic instruments by the cartload. No doubt about it, Roodewal came at an opportune moment. Roberts was pressing Botha hard in front, and this stunning blow at his lines of communication compelled him to pause. Think of his forces fighting through that rigorous winter, wearing only their summer uniforms! No wonder their ardour grew cool!