Two Years on Trek: Being Some Account of the Royal Sussex Regiment in South Africa

by Louis Eugène Du Moulin

The next day was a peaceful one; there was, however, a good deal of excitement about, which we could not fathom: several flags of truce were sent out by the General in various directions, and every one was wondering what it all meant. The battalion went out also, and C company, under Captain Wroughton, was despatched to climb to the top of, and picket, a perfectly awful hill, a long distance away, and a fearful climb.

It took them a long time even to reach the foot of the hill, and longer still to climb up the steep slope; we watched them through our glasses, tiny specks moving slowly, very slowly, up and up, and then disappearing over the sky line. As soon as they had reached the summit, A and D companies, under Major O'Grady and Lieut. Ashworth, Major Scaife being again baggage master, proceeded along the valley, protected on the right by Captain Wroughton's presence up the hill, and on the left by B company, still on picket on the kopje we had occupied the previous night. A and D moved straight out about two-and-a-half miles to their front, where there was an isolated, conical-shaped kopje with a flat, straight spur running off to its right and joining it to the hills further on. To this flat spur the two companies were directed to proceed, and to remain there until ordered to withdraw.

From their high elevation, both of our parties could see, in the valley beyond, but at a very great distance, numbers of Boer wagons trekking in all directions, evidently in a disorganised kind of way: they were, of course, quite out of range, even of our cow gun, which had accompanied the Camerons from Bethlehem, and was now in camp.

In the afternoon, we withdrew our pickets and proceeded to camp, which we did not reach until the late afternoon, the pickets having taken a long time to withdraw. We found the camp had been moved about a mile to a new site on the far side of the drift; the wagons and the convoy had amused themselves during the day by crossing this drift, which was fairly good but terribly steep on the ascending side, necessitating double teams of oxen. Earlier in the day, before we started, we had sent our empty wagons across the drift to a place opposite our camp, and just on the other side of the spruit: we had carried our bundles of blankets and other baggage across by hand, and loaded them on the wagons, so our wretchedly weak and overworked mules had a rest that day.

The next morning, the 31st of July, we marched off again towards Golden Gate: the Mounted Infantry, who were in front, carried white flags, which were also borne by those on our flanks, and it seemed as though an armistice had been declared. However, no information was given to us, so we trekked on steadily until the afternoon, when the General, who had ridden on in front some miles, sent back word to the Colonel to say that he wanted to see Major du Moulin.

So I rode off, followed by the usual chaffing remarks about canteen jam and other things, and found the General about 4 miles ahead at Klerksvlei, with his staff and escort. There, he gave me orders to ride on to Raats' Farm, about 4 miles further on, and to receive the surrender of five commandos. This was news indeed, so accompanied by Lieut. Bellamy, who was then assistant to the Provost Marshall, with a few of his mounted Police, an orderly with a white flag, and one or two other officers, I hurried off at once, as the sun was beginning to drop towards the horizon, and there was an immense amount of work to be done, and very little time to do it in.

The General had told me some of the particulars of the surrender, which was entirely unconditional, with the reservation, granted by General Hunter, that private property should be respected, and that each burgher should be allowed a horse to ride to his destination, wherever that might be; and he instructed me to take over the arms and ammunition at once and to remove the horses for the night.

We rode on for some three or four miles over grassy veldt, huge ranges of hills on the right and left closing in on us as we advanced further; they appeared to meet in front of us, and, in fact, did close together to within 600 or 800 yards, forming the redoubtable Golden Gate. Across the mouth of this pass ran a deep spruit with steep banks; this was Klerks Spruit, and it was crossed by a terribly steep and bad drift, almost impassable for ox wagons, and entirely so for mule wagons, which would have had to be unloaded.

After almost meeting, the ranges of hills bore away again from each other, enclosing broken and hilly ground, which formed the outskirts of the mountains shutting in the famous Caledon Valley, at the northern entrance to which we now found ourselves; just beyond the drift was a farm, a substantial, well-to-do farm of considerable area, with a large orchard and several outhouses. This was Klerksvlei, owned by Mr. Solomon Raats, and it was around this farm in all directions, as far as one could see in the fast fading light, that the Boers were encamped: the whole neighbourhood was covered with men, horses, wagons and bullocks.

It was with a distinctly weird feeling that I rode into the heart of the enemy's laager and drew up on a slight rise of ground, just outside the farm: a small party of Mounted Infantry had followed us, and these now closed up behind and dismounted.