How sharp was the contrast between the majestic calm of the eternal mountains and the unrest of the men that swarmed below! Everyone kept pressing on. Forward, ever forward! Whither? No one knew whither; but everybody felt himself enclosed within the mountains, as if in the horrid embrace of a nightmare and his only wish was to escape. To escape! no matter whither! and then? This I asked myself, when we had got beyond these mountains, should we then bravely march against the enemy on the plains? Alas! I saw but few indications of it. Yet could I blame this confused multitude? No, they were as sheep without a shepherd. It was then, if ever, that a man—ONE MAN was wanted! Unconsciously the multitude cried for a Leader, and—the Leader did not come!
Long trains of waggons and carts, large herds of cattle and flocks of sheep were driven on with feverish haste. Everywhere one could mark the signs of uneasiness and fear upon the faces of those who were fleeing there. They anxiously inquired of such persons as came from the direction of Fouriesburg or Nauwpoort, where the English were, and whether they might soon be expected.
What grieved me beyond measure was the sight of so many women and children amongst those who were thus endeavouring to escape. Here one might see mothers with babies in their arms, and little ones clinging to their skirts, jumping over the stepping-stones of a river-ford or wading through the water whilst the waggons were struggling across. Yonder again there were others baking bread in ant-hills. Here again you saw girls in scanty clothing, gathering fuel or drawing water, while there was a short halt for the purpose of preparing a meal, and letting the weary oxen rest and graze. Poor women, poor children! Why should they be there?
We rode on, and about noon passed the beautiful farm "Golden Gate" belonging to Mr. Jan van Reenen. He treated the burghers with great kindness, and gave each one a bundle of forage for his horse.
In the afternoon we proceeded on our journey, and when the sun set we stood upon the mountains that look down upon Oldenburg.
Many a time, when visiting as clergyman of the district the members of my congregation there, I had gazed enrapt on the beautiful view of this fruitful plain surrounded by a circle of lordly mountains; and now again, in spite of melancholy thoughts, the charm of the scene entranced me as I looked a thousand feet down. There many carts and waggons had arrived already, and preparations were being made to pass the night on the spot.
We descended by a steep footpath, and learnt that our waggon-laager had not, as we had feared, fallen into the hands of the enemy. It was at that moment still in safety, at the farm of Mrs. van der Merwe. We off-saddled, and soon the mantle of night hid not only the grand views of mountain and kloof, but also the sad spectacle of panic and confusion.
CHAPTER III
THE UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER OF GENERAL PRINSLOO
Sunday, the 29th July 1900, must stand on record as the saddest day in the history of our struggle. It was on that day that General Marthinus Prinsloo unconditionally surrendered the whole of the forces under him to General Hunter, notwithstanding the fact that at that moment he was not Chief-Commandant according to law. But let me relate in due order what I experienced.
After having held a short service for the men of Harrismith early in the morning of that Sunday, General de Villiers and Piet Maré, member of the Volksraad, addressed them, and General Froneman, who happened to be present, also said a few words. We then passed through the nek to the north of the dwelling of Mr. Salamon Raath, for the purpose of taking up positions against the forces of the enemy under General MacDonald, with whom we had been engaged on the other side of the Roodebergen on the previous Thursday. Those forces had meanwhile moved round by "Davelsrust," with the object of preventing the commandos from escaping at Oldenburg or Witzieshoek.