The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 31, 1897, Page 20

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, OCTOBER 31, 1897. OFFICERS’ GRAV In a rash moment some one told me that Dr. Fred D'Evelyn was an activ pariicipant during the siege of Preto This took place in South Africa in 1880, | when there was so much biood spilled by the brave fellows of the British army ina | vain effort to put down the uprising of the Boers, This story has never been told here by an eye-witness. I immediately | pianned a siege myself, and for two or | three days made several unsuccessful tempts to get a talk with him on the sub- ject, never getting any further than send- ing in my card and being told that the | doctor was too busy to see me. I after- wards learned that D'Evelyn was a remarkably modest man, and disliked B i T RONKHORST SPRUIT. | Council. been observing, a condition practically encouraged by the indifference of the English. Rumors of war were ngw heard atthe dinner table. Therefusal of a Boer in the Pocheffstorn district to pay taxes to the Government. was followed by his wagon being seized by the Sheriff. This was the match 10 the smoldering train, and open revolt was the order of the day. By & strange repeiition of history, the Boer who relused to pay was a descendant of the Dutchman of the same name who refused to pay taxes to ihe Cape Colony Government in 1315, and who succeeded in raising a revoit. “A dispateh to Pretoria for help was re- plied to by dispatching two companies of of fusiieers and a battery of artillery, It was a bright Sunday morning and the cburch-bells were pealing merrily as these brave Jellows, who were destined to en- dure almost unheard-of hardsuip and privat on and death, marched from their quarter-, “I attended a meeting of the L-gislative There storm and confusion pre- dominated, intensified by the arrival of = . city before the astonished Boers came to thejr senses. - It was a cocl job, and often- times since I see those hills peopled with Boers and their rifles silent in their hands and wonder we lived to tell the story. *‘A few days later the city was evacuated, as we had not troops enough to guard iis scattered street-. A large camp was formed within balt a mile of the city, to which we all retired—men, women and chitidren—and there, under canvas, under the blue sky, in :tables, outhouses and barns we stowed ourselves away, and with a spirit of loyalty gave three cheers ! for the tlag we loved, for honor, homes and duty. “I was enrolled with the Pretoria Car- bineers, and soon was busily engaged with all the varied duties of siege life, where no one thinks of self, but does what be can for the cause he has espoused. The Mayor became chief wardmaster and | news that the Boers were going to fight and the meeting, bistorically the iast of the Transvaal Executive Council, separat- superintended the serving of bread and | beef to the civil population. The Chief iJusllce became a sanitary inspector, the A CALIFORNIANS. \DURING THE BOER w‘.. EXPERIENCE AR OF 1880. on my horse raade for camp. Oaur reserve re- «nfrcements now came,up. Thus we ad cur first exchange of civilities with t .e Boer. “The next morning we retaurned and shelled the Boers out of their position. The carbineers, in attacking, got a warm reception and lost several men. I had a narrow escape, two bullets passing tarough my hat as I lifted the capiain off his borse, he being severely wounded. Then the artillery came up and made it too hot for the Boers, who retired rapidly as their iaager (fort) became demoiished by our field guns, *The New Year saw no improvement ia our position. Sickness, hardships and privations left their imiprints upon our people. There waslitile of joy or plensure n our midst that morning. “The Ninety-fourtn Regiment had been ordered to leave Lydenburg and report at Pretoria. Transvort was difficult to ob- tain and the downward march was de- layed. A commi at train of twenty- nine ox-wagons with other impeaimenta covering over a mile in extent rendered the company comparatively helpless, but the cflicers in charce haa no idea that hostilities had broken out as yet. “Five hundred armed Boers had left the district of Poticheffstrom. The column advanced, and on the 19th of December had camped ar Honey’s Farm. At this balting-place Colonel Anstruther was told that there was an assemblage of Boers shead, but all wete friendly and it wes only a social gathering—a fitting prelude to the butchery which followed. “The following day the column was & ain in motion, the band leading and playing ‘Kiss Me, Mother, Kiss Your Dar- | | B ‘\\\‘ it ‘miv"y\\‘ i \: 1§ i 1 il L Sl of his reziment securely wound round his | pliments to the Boer commandant. I body under his tunic. and so outwirtea | jumped into the saddie and put spurs to anything that approached notorie! hid- fing.” We had reached a ford of the iny from reporters religiously. Finally I procured a letter of introduc- tion from a friend of 1 and presto—the | forbidding door of his little office flew | open sna I had attained my goul. He greeted me coraially. and explained 10 me the many curios and things with which Honde River, known as Bromkhurst Sorint. The commanding officer wa- sur- prised to see aliead three mounted Boers, | bearing a flag of truce. At the same time a Jarge party of armed Boers was discov- ered, under cover on the flank of the col- umn. Oune of the Boers handed Colonei | the Boers, who were eager to find the colors of the regiment. They were given a theatr cal flag and never knew the dif- ference. *Red-cross wagons, with supplies, and | as many surgeons as could be spared, were | sent off to the scene of the disaster. We my horse, dashed through the river and rode up with the lancer. We had come within almost reventy yards of the Boer | stronghold, when they opened fire upon us. The charge was unexpected, but swinging our horses round we retired un- der a stinging shower of bullets. Our es- his office abounds. As he bended me a | Aastruther a paper - which was afterward | ;5,4 the wounded in many cases unable | cape was miraculous. queer littte inkwell formed from a horse’s | picked up, tlood-sfained, on the field. In | o 00 oved: 'so wé Bad th ereot tentsiover | - “Amotg - the Boer prisancts was Hiins hoot, and toli me bow the hoof had been substance it said: ‘We will not permit any | them and for several menthsan emer- Botha, a big, coarse man, whose skin was found on the battletield, shot cff a brave movement of troop-. Any such action Wil | ponoy pospital was established. Many of | tanned by exposurs to sum and the ab- charger. I took a good look at the doctor be squisnlent 4e & deaiaration of wap. those brave meu died. The colonel passed | sence of sosp. He was badly wounded, bimself, He is a little over medium “This document was signed by Presi- | away on Christmas eve. The next day he | and as Iassisted to place him on oneof oor height, rugged and hearty looking, with dent Krager, his nephew, M. H. Preto- | was buried and [ don’t think I ever saw a | ambulance- I felt that some of the Ninety- sandy bair and bright blue eyes that look | rious, and others. Of course Cofonel An- | sagger funeral. He was carried to the | fourth had been avenged, for he had been oue steadily through and through. He | siruther coutd only reply that his orders | grave by eight sergeants, seven out of the | most active during that massacre, and as didn’t look like a man that would be | were to go to Pretoria and they must be | eight being wounded. The rest were on | he lay groaning and asking for help he easily “rattled,” and it would be strange | DEALING OUT PROVISIONS. | obeyed. During this interim discussion | crutches, all with bandages. Some, wiio | had plenty of time 16 experience some of indeed it any onc could be very much dis- | the Boers ®ot into position where | were upavle to waik, were carried upon | the pains he had inflicted upon his vic- turbed after passing through toe horrible | war, I threw the reins to my Kaflir boy | ted instead o joining the oppos'n: inter- | Government Auditor sawed wood for bar- | they bad previously marked off the |tpa shouiders of their more fortunate | tims at the Honde River. However, we experiences he has and living to tell the as I ¢ = 10 a balt in the eitv of Pretoria, |esis. Aiter that the days grew more preg- | riers, the clergy dug trenches, the ladies | distances to make their fire more sc- lale. After showing me several more trophies thie doctor settled back in his chair, and picking up a rule, to chock me 1f I asked 100 many questions, I suppose, announced himself ready to talk about the siege of | Preoria Mr. Blank tells me,” he said, “that u are interested in the siege of Pre- ria. Now, what can I tell you about it? m not very good at telling stories, but | il answer any questions you may put to me, that 15, provided 1 am informed on | at particular question.” I'mildly suggested that he wasin a posi- tion 1o know the whole story of that awfui tiege. Itoid him how I had heard that after having his knee almost shattered to bits while helping the wourded he mounted his horse and rode to the aid of the carbineers; how he was the only man who had survived that charge; y 1 1 how after that be was dragged for ten miles in a mulecart to camp, two of the mules being siot during the trip. For twelve terrible days he lay suffering at | the camp, with no one to look after him, and last, but not least, how be was recom- | mended for bravery to the major-general, | and how that gentleman, figuratively at lJeast, patted him on the back. During this storm of words the doctor got redder and redder and pooh-poohed | all these little trifles, saying that he only | did his duty as a soldier of the Queen. “People exaggerate these things, you know,” and then he began his *tory: *Just seventeen years ago lost Sunday, aftera six moatns’ drive with a four-in- hand through the wilds of Southern Airica, immediately following the Zula | the city of the plain, the capital of the Transvaal and the seatof the Goverment, a pretty but somewhat rcatiered city. The business ets were wide and de- vo.d of pavement, flanked upon each side by watercourses. The houses were of the usual colonial style, surrounded by groves of lemons and oranges and blue gums, which serv-d to somewhat tone down and add beauty to the landscape. A rengze oi | low bills extends across the immediate s background of the city, completely sur- rounding it. A second range rise- directly behind the first, thus giving the city the nce of an arena in being sed in, and amphitheater of hills, a which so soon were strange scomes. I can close my eves now and see it all so plainly. It was not my first acquaintance with the Boer, so there was no novelty in him for me. “The Boer has much to recommend him. Leaving out the home-rule faction, the rema:nder are dull, siow of action and non-progressive. As a farmer he is slov- enly and apathetic; asa citizen, a s.m- pleton, following the dictates o: a leader who would save him the trouble of think- ing. As a religionist he abides within narrow lines, outside of which he rarely | wanders. Socially he 1s kind but un- couth. He rules with patriarchal author- ity over his home. sarvant-, flocks and herds. He 1s nut anxious that his neizh- | bor be nearer than twenty miles. Thus | he vegetated and would be doing so stiil | if the Uitlander had not created within | him power of which he was formerly un- | conscious, “The ferment of discontent natural to be enacied hid long TWO M| nant with possibilities. The first week in December found the city in a very dis- tractea condition. Business was sus- vended, outlying families were coming in to the town for protection. Food supplies were be ng put into the storerooms. Loy- alist calisior volunteers were responded to liberally, I myself joining in the capacity of surgeon. It was the eve of Dungaan's day, the day that commemorates the defeat of the great Zalu King by the old Voortrekkers, in facta Dutch national hoiday—it was | an ominous eve, The very elements took on an appearance that to the over-disiressea citizens was a forebod ng of evil. I noticed little groups here and there awe-stricken and terrified, as the lowerinz cloud-, deeply dyed in crimson and over the entire heavens and heralded the coming dav. It had scarcely dawned | when the Boers entered the town of Heid- sixty-five mile- | elber ., on the post road from Pretoria, havled down the British flag, proctaimed a republic, cut the tele- graph wire and we in Pretoria were shut off from the outer world —an isolated city in the midst of an enemy’s country. “Martial law was proclaimed; volunteers were enrolled. All rations were served by Government officials. Defensive works were torn up. It was Sunday, and the old Dutch church was the centercfat traction. It was rapidly placed in con- dition for a siege through the combined efforts of 250 natives, *“That afternoon five of us, mounted on native horses and well armed, rode through the Wonaerboom Port, the Khy- ber Pass of Pretoria, and seized 300 head of horses and galloped them back to the ! red, spread | carried arms, did sentry du'y and cheered | us with their presence. ESome made band- ages, while they tended ihe babies and ate ‘hardiack’ with never a word of dis- content. “On Christmas day was issued from the vress the first copy of a little journal, the News of the Camp, a record of all we knew, and that toward the later days of the siege was little enough, but still we welcomed this veritab e journalistic curi- osity, and its files to-day bring to memor, many sad thoughts.” The deoctor stopped suddenly and for almost a minute stared abstractedly at a picture on tie opposite side of the wail. 1 don’t fancy he saw much of the picture. He was looking over aain the scenes of tne past. A sheet of paper fluttered off his desk and rustled to the floor; that broke the speil, and he proceeded with his story : “On Tuesday, December 28, I had the ; good fortune to be one of a patrol party which ieft camp at 3 A. M. We had patrolled for tour hours and then dis- mounted, when sud lenly over the hilitop Came a large party of armed Boers. Ina moment we were in the saddle and rode to the cover of a few trees, where we dis- mounted and opened fire. A conspicuous {ridar on a white horse received my per- sonal attention, and—weli, he suddenly be-ame quiet. I think I have a picture of bim somewhere. Here it is.” And the | doct.r handed forth the portrait of a | heavy-set, determined-looking fellow with | a rifle in his band. | Two of our men were shot and several i horses killed. I had to attend to the wounded men, and taking one poor fellow 1 | | [ | i | nlaces, lay in front of the line. cheering i on the men, who ket up the fight until curate. Colonel Anstruther returned to the head of his troop. Some 120 men were in front, the rest scattered among the wagons. No sooner had hedone thisthan a well-prepar- | ed fire came from the Boers, the cap:ain and half of the non-commissioned officers and several men failing. Those still aliva lay down and returned the fire of the Boers, who completely encircld the band Colonel Anstruther, wounded five in two-thirds of their number were killed. Then, seeing it utter folly to further per- si-t, the colonel gave orders to cease fir- ing. The ambushed Boers rose from their cover and rode forward to slory in the deed they had so treacherously planned. “Some of the men had as many as cleven bulletholes through them. The diummer-boys and Mrs. Fox, wife of the | -ergeant-major, were among the wounded. | Every officer was struck down. In many ca~es their bodies were fairly riddled with balls. One lady, accompunied by two little children, escaped in a miraculous manner. The noble mother, forgetful of ull save her suffering companions, moved among the wounded, tearing to ribbons her clotbing to help make bandages for the suffering, whose liteblood stained the sparkling waters of the Honde River. *‘The Boers were led by Franz Joubert. He absolutely refused to aliow : orses to be given to the two messengers who were | permitted to bring he news to Pretoria, | and sn the brave feliows were comnvelled to march all night, blood-stained and wearied. One brave man had the colors | 10 say their prayers. companions. Not a dry eye was seen a< the grave closed over the brave officer | aud beloved friend who knew no word save duty. The survivors ultimately were prought into camp and were gladly wel. | comed to our siege rations of ‘hard times | and hot sauce.’ “The fodder for our horses runninglow, | we thought to obtain some from the farms in the vicinity. Accordingly, on themorn- | ing of the 5th of January we leftcamp and | reached Struben’s farm (one of the owners | alterward became known as haviag lo- | cated the first find on the gold fields of the | Randsburg), ioaded up the wagons and | retreated under a smart fire from the Boers. The following morning at 2 o’cloek | a column left camp. At Zwaart Kopje we | bLalted at daybreak, in the meantime | sending parties to make cover on the rear and right i nk. | “1 now joined the colonel and found | myself entirely separated from the car- | bineers. We soon opened fire, and the | guns, coming up at a trot, sent some shells among the Boers, who haa scarcely time | They returned the fire, and for an hour or more I lay on the field behind cover consisting of grass. A regular circle of bullets surrounded my | Testing place; butan inch is as good as a | mile, and I returned the compliment | whenever a Boer head presented iiself. “The infaniry had advanced well to the front and was in operation, fast closingin | upon the Kopje. The order to fix bayo- | nels was sounded, but the sight of cold | steel was too much for Mynheer, and up | wenta white flaz of trace. The colonel | | rode over to where I was standing along- | side of my hors: and asked me if I would | accompany his orderly and take his com- | gave him the best of care, ana he recov- ered to bear the avenging scars. *Numerous engagements followed, and | the list of our casualties became larger. Supplies began to be scanty. Much hard- ship had to be endured. Our daily expectation of relief from the column of Gen-ral Colley kept us always in hope. A very extensive plan of attyck was laid, end we advanced slong the main road, on which we expected to meet Colley’s advance. The Boers were strongly intrenched, and we bad a hot engagemeut. The Boers succseded in cajturing one of our ambulances, with | the doctor and the wounded. *The brunt of the battle fell upon our carbineers. We Jost many killed and wounded, myseif among the latter, This was our last important engsgement. Starvation rations and sickness nearly drove hope out of our hearts, but still we held the fort, and one and ail were deter- mined to do so until the bitter end. There was no communication with the outside. Absolutely isolated we remained until on the morning of the one hundred and third day of the investment, A flag of truce was seen approaching and we learned the sad news of the deatn of Colley and the news of a peace with honor. We feit keenly when we saw our hopes blightea, | our prospects ruined and our life blood spilled in vain. Six weeks later a bullock train of sick and wounded started for the coast with the red cross floating overhead, but still s parting shot from the Boers was their last good-by. The roa! turned abruptly .and shut out forever the deso- lated city of Pretoria, and we knew the war in the Transvaal was over.” GERTRUDE R. BPELIAN. FOR TAHITI “We got such a Iright last night,” she lisped in her pretty Dublin zccent, which has just the faintest trace of the Irish brogue in it. ‘‘We had only gone to bed for half an hour and were both sound asleep, when a man came knocking at the | door and said that we would both be dead ! in no time it we didn’t get up.” | “What was the matter?” I *Oh, the gas waz whistling away through the pipes like anything and the man said it wouid suffocate us in our beds. I blew it out before 1 went to sleep and dida’t know but that it was all right.” It seems impossible tha. sucha thing should nappen at this latler end of the nineteenth century, in these days of un versal education and progress; but sti facts cannot be beaten. The words were those of the little novice from Dublin, just released from a Parisian convent, but relaiuing ner Irish voice and her freth Irish complexion and looking strangely out of place amid the luxurions apart- ments of a bedroom at the Occidental. | This incident seives to illustrate her knowledge of the werla ana its ways, | since, had it not been for the accidental | | presence of a hotel employe, both she and | the Mother Superior would have passed away unconsciously and the newspapers | would have had another tragedy to rec- ord. Itisdifficult toimagine a moresirangely contrasting couple than these devout mis- | sionary nuns. Both wear the blue garb | With the becoming black headdressof the order of St. Josepu ci Cluny, but there the resemblance ends. The Very Reverend | Mother Superior Meianie is old and griz- | zled, her complexion darkened by many years of tropical life, her expression set and deiermined, as becomes one who ha$ . been accustomea 10 rule for many years, Yet her look is not always austere. Her gray eyes light up with a siy, humorons twinkle when an 1dea strikes her; her language ie quaint ana expressive, albeit she knows not a word of English. Little S:ster Theresa is just the opposite of all this. She is young and, though it sounds rather improper to say it i of a nun, pretty. She is innocence per- sonified. All her short life has been shielded from any contact with fne world and before she began this terribly long | journey she had been shut up for lwo’ | years in a Parisian convent. It is no wonder the journey seems a ter- rible one to these two inexperienced creatures, The Mother Superior is heip- less amid all these bewildering foreign sounds and, to make matters worse, the young sister, despite her Parisian train- ing, speaks but littie French; so that con- versaiion between the two out of the question, and they sit hopelessly all day in their bedroom, wondering when it will be time to sail for Tahiti. The liitle sister prattles away amiably about her journey, which to her was the most wonderful thing that ever happened. ‘‘We came over on a French steamer with three other novices, and ob, it was awiul, They kept on crying ‘C'est terribie’ all the time, and I thought I was going to die, sure. Then, when we got to New York | they putus on board a great long train, and we sat up for three days and nights and we went through a placelike a tunnel forty miles long. 1t fatigued me very much,” “Didn’t you bave & sleeping-car?” i i asked. | | bed. | order, but I cannot afford 10 ro again. “Oh, no,” explained the Mother Supe- rior, ‘it was partof my plan. I wished to judze for myseif wheth:r it would be right to expect i he sisters coming this way to travel tnrough the journey withouta It is such anexpense, you see. But I found it was not possible, and on Sat- urday night we slept ourselves. It is possible 10 be too economical.” The Motber Superior knows the value of money. Her life in Tahiti, where the | order has to support itself by mucn hard | labor, has taugut her this, She travels at ! her own expense, and the cost of the | journey has been a serious drain upon her | slender resources. +This is on.y the second time I have visited Paris during forty-two years, and it will be the last. I was sent for to at- tend the general congregation of the I shal! remaia with my work for the rest of my lifs” The little sister, too, never expects to see her home and her friends again, for with these missionaries there is noreturn. It is onlv in rare instances, such as the Motner Superior’s, that the old country is revisited. But the enthusasm of the work sustains them, and yeariy hundreds of delicate, well-bred young women go forth to savaze Africa or the fever. stricken Indies, and a brief record of their death is ail the world learns of the mat- ter. “We used to hear such lovely stories about the missionaries at the convent school,” says the little sister. Exactly, the romance of the work seize1 upon her, and after two years of training in Paris she was sent off to Tahiti, know- ing absolately nothing of the life task which lay before her. But whether she likes it or no, it will be her lot until the end, for having once ‘‘professea” she has neither home nor relations. She belonas to the church and no retura is possible. Even her parents do not know her where- abouts. I have not written to them since entered the convent,’” she remarks, sim- ply; *“they would not have liked me to &0 4s a missionary." But the kindly old Mother Superior has nodoubt about the result of her lifg's work. She is full of enthusiasm for the | it would be too lonely.” years of her service she spent in the fever- | baunted isle of Martinique, but for twelye years she has ministered in the much | pleasanter Tahiti. Yet if she can be said | to regret anything where her duty is con- cerned, she regrets having left the un- wholesome West Indies for the balmy South Seas. *We have a great deal of work to do in Tahiti,” she says, *‘but we are very much hampered by lack of means. We have to earn every penny ourselves. There are jorty-eight sisters in the group and more to come, while in the countrv d istrict they are always asking for us, but we can- not gc, because there is no priest. We cannot, you see, send a sister to any place Where Lhere is no priest; she would never be able to hear mass. And then there m ist never be less than three together; “It wou!d be all right,” she went on, ‘“if we had only a piece of land; self-sup- port would be easy. We could grow va- nilla and cocoa and bananas and lots of things, and vanilla, as you know, is now a very protitable crop in the islands, fetch. ing 20 Mexican dollars a kilo. Asit is we bave tu earn by taking in washing and sewing, and then we mak: all the arti- ficial flowers for the aliars, seading to | Paris for the materials.” | . Why artiticial flowers should be needed | in such a garden paradise as Tahiti the mother did not explain, Probably it had never cceurred to her to depart from the fcnelpted cml:vemion: of church decoration in favor of a freer sl and more natural “We hav: 300 schoiars of whites, nuiives and half-cast, charge for teachin, such as music, | all sorts | es, and we & accomplishments, n drawing, ete, Thus we make a little, for the people like their children 10 be well educated, and one music mistress cannot do tha work, so hat we have had to send for another, : “Our children get a £ood education, all taking their certificates, and man\: of them being aflerward drafted into Gov- ernment employ. In the early eighties, when education was secularized u.wn: noticeable that men who had voted for the reform most persistentiy continued to cause, and will talk for tue hour about her aear scholars in Tahiti. The first thirty send their children to our school ¢ After 8 time the Kanakas remarked this and | marrying. good for the whites was not good for them, and their children also returned to us. 8o that secular education has prov:, a failure, and last year the Governme school had to be shut up, simply becausé there were no scholars. “In spite of all this, I must not charge for my pupils; if Ldid they would go over to the Protestant schools, which are also gratuitous. To be sure, I might insist on doing so, but I should them offend the Bishop and thereby lose the one iittie help we have—house room, for our home is the mission’s property. The last Bishop belped us more substantially, providing for board, but hic successor cannot mfl'.', tne expense. However, I hesr that au. ing my absence, mv nuns being in great straits, he has helped them with food.” Times rmust be pretty bad in Tabiti for this poor struggling sisterhood, and the natives must less genersusly disposed toward Lucir religious teachers than they are in other parts of the South Seas. “Life is easy there,”” explained the mother ‘‘but people are very selfish. Yet they have many good points. They are very fond of their children—so muoh so that they will hardly hear of their girls Yet nearly. all our female puplls are married, often to white men, as soon as they are old enough. Obh, ye-; there is a great demand for our girls, be- cause of the way we train them. I want some bonbons,” quoth the dear old mother, when asked if all ber meeds were suppiied; “they must not be very dear, for I want so many.”” Then, detect- ing a glance of astonishment, a motherly smile beamed from under the black coif. I go to my baby class every week ta ine spect progtess and bonbons ars the re- | ward. They are so pretty, my babies,” and | the smile decpened, “little white or cream colored creatures, scarcé' a one that yf could call reaily brown. I pr_omiud them | all toys. I have a case full of drums and trampets: and dolls, but I must bave | enough benbons to go reunda our six schools, and if you only knew how i py that means.” 7 | m:\nd thus the venerable mother who lr‘ never known maternity, whose life has | been one long seif-abnegation, satly away | from us, her first and’ last desire being | the gladdening of young hearts. rebellea, deeming that what was not J. F. Rosg-SoLEY.