With Rifle and Bayonet: A Story of the Boer War

by F. S. Brereton

Already negotiations between the Boers and the British Government were at a deadlock. Both sides were arming, the former with the absolute certainty and wish for war, and the latter slowly and with evident sorrow. Suspicion was in the air, and hatred between the two races unconcealed. A conference at Bloemfontein had been held between Sir Alfred Milner, the Governor of Cape Colony, and President Kruger, but had led to no result, save a further deadlock. Kruger would make no satisfactory proposals. He was firmly determined that the Transvaal should be for Boers alone, and that no Englishman should have a voice in the country. England asked for equal rights, and was laughed at—defied. Yes, this small state, with a history which could only record some two hundred years of peasant existence, and a total population less than that of one of our big northern towns, had as good as cast down the glove at the British Lion’s feet. And the Lion still sat half-crouched, silently waiting, and hoping that matters might be arranged for peace.

Opposed to England’s forces was a minor state, which was snapping its fingers at her and practically daring her to retaliate. Once before the Transvaal had acted in a similar manner, and then, because there was some doubt as to the justice of our cause, and because we have ever been magnanimous, we made peace with her.

But, like a little dog, the South African Republic had continued yapping at us, distracting our attention while she grew and thrived, and armed herself to the teeth. And now that she had attained to full proportions, the conceit of youth and the impetuous desire to play with her new guns had led her to seek a quarrel, the result of which she hoped would for ever free her from the hated British suzerainty, and give her that independence for which she longed.

And on every side the world looked on and laughed in its sleeve at our difficulties, while it openly upbraided us for having ulterior designs on so small a state.

Matters could not remain as they were. Business was at a standstill, and crowds of refugees were fleeing from the Transvaal. Then the Orange Free State intimated that in the event of hostilities it would cast in its lot with the Transvaal, while there was open disloyalty amongst a portion of the Dutch Cape Colonists, which proved the existence of a wide-spread conspiracy.

England awoke sorrowfully to the fact that hostilities were not to be put off, and, calmly making the best of a bad matter, set to work to prepare for the struggle. Already she had despatched special officers for the defence of certain parts, and now she sent sufficient men to raise the garrisons of Cape Colony and Natal to 20,000, and that done, set to work to mobilise a complete army corps and call up 25,000 of her reserves.

The Boers, too, showed that they meant business. Every male of a certain age was bound to serve, and by October let had been called upon. From Pretoria and Bloemfontein the call to arms was passed on by the telegraph wire, and then by the field-cornets, or local magistrates, and within a few hours, bringing their rifles, horses, food, and ammunition with them, the burghers mustered to their several commandoes. The Orange Free State men manned the passes in the Drakenberg range of mountains looking into Natal, and also sent other commandoes (a large force of men) to watch the southern border along the Orange River, and the Basuto border, where trouble from their old enemies might be expected.

The Transvaallers for the most part went south by train through Volksrust to Laing’s Nek, the scene of the former struggle, while others went north to Komati Poort, where the railway from Delagoa Bay entered the country, and to the northern border near Tuli. A large commando was also despatched to threaten Mafeking, and another marched south towards Kimberley.

Thus, armed to the teeth, the Boers awaited the coming war, and now that they were fully prepared, with all their burghers on the borders and within striking distance, they despatched an ultimatum to the British Government, the more audacity of which set the world agasp, and made our countrymen shut their teeth with rage. It was addressed by President Kruger on October 9th, and declared that forty-eight hours’ grace would be allowed for our forces to be withdrawn from the Cape, our war preparations to be suspended, and our grievances submitted to arbitration. If we refused to do as demanded, war should commence on October the 11th, in the afternoon.

Never before had such an audacious message been addressed to us. There was no answer to be made. Its despatch made war unavoidable. We were forced into it, and accepted the inevitable with a sigh. But had we known all that was in store for us, had we as a nation realised that this was no tribal war, such as we were accustomed to, but a stern struggle against a race of born soldiers armed to the teeth, and favoured by a rough country suited to their tactics, that sigh would have been replaced by a start and by an anxious foreboding which would have led us to throw all our available forces into Africa without a moment’s delay.