Royal Canadian Regiment

Talk delivered to the regimental dinner

Marking the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Paardeberg

February 27 2000

By Conrad Reitz

I would like to express my very great appreciation to you for inviting me to attend your dinner, and to talk to you. I am deeply honoured that this should be taking place on such an auspicious occasion as the 100th anniversary of the Battle of Paardeberg, a battle in which the Regiment served so well. However, I have to start with a disclaimer. I am ashamed to admit that I do not know as much about the Boer War as I should. When I was growing up in South Africa, and attending school during the 40s and 50s, we were not taught about the Boer War, because it was such a sensitive and contentious period of our history, and even after fifty years, the scars still remained. The history of the Napoleonic Wars was considered to be a far safer topic for the school curriculum. Therefore, what little I do know has been as a result of my own personal reading, and an interest that has grown out of the service of my family in the war – most notably my great-grandfather Francis William Reitz, and four of his sons - Hjalmar (my grandfather), Deneys, Joubert and Arnt.

Francis William Reitz was not a soldier. He was a lawyer, a scholar, a poet and a politician – a multi-talented man who was educated in Scotland, became Chief Justice of the Orange Free State, President of the Orange Free State, and then State Secretary to Paul Kruger in the old South African Republic – subsequently renamed the Transvaal.

As State Secretary, he played a key role in negotiations with the British, and he was responsible for signing the ultimatum that led to the declaration of war, and to three years of hostilities. In fact, he personally delivered the ultimatum to Cunningham Greene, the British representative in Pretoria. As an educated man, fluent in English, he was a remarkable contrast to the dour, illiterate, Calvinistic farmer, President Paul Kruger.

Having received his legal training in Edinburgh, where he met Sir Walter Scott, he was in tune with the culture and literature of Great Britain. As a poet, he was the first person to use the fledgling language of Afrikaans (viewed in Europe as a barbarous patois) as a literary language, and he translated poets such as Robert Burns, William Cowper, William Wordsworth and others into Afrikaans, as well as writing many poems of his own.

In all his writing, he showed a great sensitivity to his native land, abiding nationalism, and a passionate belief in the future independence of his people. The Boer War was a severe emotional strain for him, because of the conflict between his love for the literature of Great Britain, and his love for his country, and this shows through in his writing.

He published a little book of poems about the war, called Oorlogs en ander gedigten – War and other poems – and included in it was a poem about Paardeberg – Majoeba uitgewist - which means "Majuba expunged." You may recall that the British suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of the Boers in 1881 at Majuba Hill, and during the Battle of Paardeberg the British and the Canadians redeemed themselves. Roughly translated, the poem reads in part:

To Paardeberg, with ten against one

There it was the British won

But doesn’t everyone know

It was entirely with the help of cannon?

Cronje had four thousand men

And Lord Kitchener came to realize

What the Boers could accomplish

With one hopeless effort.

Because of the humiliation of Majubaday

The British honour was redeemed

But without diffidence our descendants

Can remember Paardeberg with pride.

During his lifetime he had fifteen children – fourteen sons and one daughter. Four of his sons were old enough to fight in the war, as they were between the ages of 22 and 17. For them it was a great adventure, as they rode off on commando, and this is vividly reflected in Deneys Reitz’s book, Commando, which is probably one of the best books to emerge from the war. It has gone through many editions and translations, and is really worth reading.

All four boys served in other parts of the country, when the Battle of Paardeberg took place, the Boers were defeated and General Cronje was captured. Deneys writes in his book:

By nightfall my uncle and my brother and I had managed to cross the river, and as it started to rain, we annexed a deserted tent behind Lombaardskop, picketed and fed our tired horses and slept there till morning. We now resumed our journey as far as the head laager, where we spent a dismal hour or two watching the tide of defeat roll northward.

We knew that the siege of Ladysmith would have to be raised, and now came the news, while we were halted here, that Kimberley had also been relieved, and that General Cronje had been captured at Paardeberg with four thousand men, so that the whole universe seemed to be toppling about our ears.

From the ways in which the commandos were hurrying past, it looked that morning as if the Boer cause was going to pieces before our eyes, and it would have taken a bold man to prophecy that the war had still more than two long years to run.

Several months later, Deneys encountered General de la Rey in the field:

a splendid-looking old man with a hawklike nose and fierce black eyes, He gave us a hurried account of the situation, which was very black. The British Army, after capturing General Cronje and taking Bloemfontein, was now advancing on the Transvaal, and owing to the demoralized state of the commandos, and the lack of defensive cover in the bare region, he saw little or no hope of stopping them. He said he had about four thousand Transvaalers who had escaped the debacle at Paardeberg, but they were discouraged, and were making the merest show of opposition.

It is my job as a librarian to provide information to students, faculty and the public on any conceivable topic. I have found that there are some quite good resources available locally on the Boer War, particularly those that present the British or Canadian side. For instance, there are contemporary accounts such as Stanley McKeown Brown's With the Royal Canadians (published in 1900), W. Hart McHarg's From Quebec to Pretoria with the Royal Canadian Regiment (published in 1902) and Thomas Guthrie Marquis's Canada's sons on kopje and veld (published in 1900).

Apart from Commando, the only other personal Boer narrative that is available locally was written by the famed guerilla leader, General Christiaan de Wet, with the unimaginative title Three years war, published in English in 1902. Deneys writes about General de Wet:

I saw him at Heilbron in the northern Free State for the first time as he made his way from point to point during the action, and I well remember his fierce eyes and keen determined face.

De Wet, unlike Deneys, was a participant in the Battle of Paardeberg, and arrived in the middle of the British bombardment of Cronje's forces. He writes:HHH

What a spectacle we saw! All round the laager were the guns of the English, belching forth death and destruction, while from within it at every moment, as each successive shell tore up the ground, there rose a cloud - a dark red cloud of dust. It was necessary to act - but how? General Botha and I arranged that he should storm the houses, kraals and garden walls of Stinkfontein, while I charged the ridges. And this we did, nothing daunted by the tremendous rifle fire which burst upon us. Cronje's pitiable condition confronted us, and we had but one thought - could we relieve him? We succeeded in driving the English out of Stinkfontein, and took sixty prisoners.

Our arrival had made a way of escape for General Cronje. But he would not move. Had he done so, his losses would not have been heavy. His determination to remain in that ill-fated laager cost him dearly.

The world will honour that great general and his brave burghers; and if I presume to criticize his conduct on this occasion, it is only because I believe that he ought to have sacrificed his own ideas for the good of the nation, and that he should not have been courageous at the expense of his country's independence, to which he was as fiercely attached as I.

This was a decisive turning point in the war. De Wet sent the renowned despatch rider Danie Theron to urge Cronje to retreat, but Cronje, with characteristic obstinacy, insisted on maintaining his position. If General Cronje had taken General de Wet's advice, abandoned his position, and made his escape, the Boers' morale would not have suffered such a shattering blow, and the outcome of the war might have been quite different.

He concludes: 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 the war.

The British eventually captured Pretoria, and ransacked State Secretary Francis William Reitz's house, confiscating, among other things, his family Bible. This family heirloom, which I now have, was returned to him fifteen years later, and in an annotation, he leaves it to his eldest grandson, Frank - my father.

Deneys encountered Jan Smuts, the State Attorney, in the field, and persuaded him to indicate where Francis William and President Kruger had gone, and what the general position was.

He said that the President and my father were at Machadodorp, a small village on the Pretoria-Delagoa Bay railway line, at which place they had set up a new Capital. So far from making peace, they were determined to carry on the war by means of guerilla tactics. They hoped to stop the rot that had set in, and Mr. Smuts himself, Christian de Wet and Commandant General Louis Botha were trying to pull things together.

Among this group were two men who became Prime Ministers of the future united South Africa: Louis Botha and Jan Smuts.

Deneys and Hjalmar travelled to Waterval Onder, where they received news of the safe survival of their brothers Joubert and Arnt, although Arnt was seriously ill with fever.

At Waterval Onder we had our last sight of President Kruger. He was seated at a table in a railway saloon with a large Bible open in front of him, a lonely, tired man. We stood gazing at him through the window, but as he was bowed in thought, we made no attempt to speak to him.

Shortly after this, Paul Kruger left for Holland via Portuguese territory, and died in exile in Switzerland in 1904.

My grandfather Hjalmar, in his autobiography, provided a translation of Francis William's descriptions of the events in Vereeniging, where the peace negotiations took place, and in Pretoria, where he was one of the signatories to the Peace Treaty.

When it was my turn to sign the document I stood up and asked Lords Kitchener and Milner whether they understood that I was doing so only as State Secretary, and not in my personal capacity. They both replied in the affirmative.

Francis William respected Lord Kitchener, because he felt that he was simply a soldier carrying out his duties. However, he had the greatest contempt for Sir Alfred Milner, whom he blamed for the breakdown of negotiations that might have avoided the war. After the signing of the treaty, he shook Kitchener's hand, but pointedly avoided Milner.

On May 31 1901, the day that the Treaty of Vereeniging was signed, he wrote a poem, subsequently set to music, that is still relevant today as an anthem for the battles between the forces of nationalism and of imperialism. He called it Vaarwel aan de Vierkleur - Farewell to the quadricolor, and I find the ringing, sonorous tones of the Afrikaans very moving:

Niet langer mag de Vierkleur wapperen

Met tranen gaven wij haar af.

Sy is met onse dode dapperen

Verdwenen in een eervol graf.

He provided his own English translation of this poem:

Oh! happier far were they who fell

Ere yet its tints began to fade

Than we, who loved it passing well,

Yet in the dust have seen it laid.

To those who bore our flag on high

And dared the haughty foe to face

And who, when death was drawing nigh,

Clung to it with a last embrace.

And in conclusion, on an even more personal level, his son Joubert wrote a poem – in English – while he was a prisoner of war in Bermuda in October 1901.

When the searchlight from the gunboat

Throws its rays upon my tent,

Then I think of home and comrades

And the happy days I spent

In the country where I come from

And where all I love are yet,

Then I think of things and places

And of scenes I'll ne'er forget.

Then a face comes up before me,

Which will haunt me till the last,

And I think of things that have been

And of happiness that's past

And only then I realise

How much my freedom meant

When the searchlight from the gunboat

Throws its rays upon my tent.

With bitterness in his heart, Francis William left his native land for Holland and the United States, where he undertook a lecture tour, even visiting local towns such as Grand Rapids and Holland, Michigan. After a failed attempt to settle in Texas, he, his wife and his four sons, who had been prisoners-of-war, returned to South Africa at the request of General Smuts.

Joubert died in the Spanish flu epidemic of 1919. Deneys went on to write a best-selling autobiography about his experiences as a colonel in the British Army during World War I. He became a cabinet minister in the pre-World War II government of General Smuts, and subsequently High Commissioner to the United Kingdom. Hjalmar had a successful career as a member of Parliament, and Arnt became an attorney. Francis William Reitz served a term as President of the Senate in the first Parliament of the new Union of South Africa, retired from public life, and lived to the ripe old age of 90. He died in March 1934, exactly nine months before I was born. Coincidence? I think not!

Thankyou for your attention.