South African Memories: Social, Warlike & Sporting from Diaries Written at the TimeWilson, Sarah Isabella Augusta, Lady
History
South African Memories: Social, Warlike & Sporting from Diaries Written at the Time
Wilson, Sarah Isabella Augusta, Lady
South Africa -- Description and travel; South African War, 1899-1902 -- Personal narratives
attacked their stadt, adjacent to the town. The number of Boer
field-guns Mr. Keeley stated to be nine, of the newest type, besides the
monster expected from Pretoria. He also said more expert gunners and
better ammunition had arrived. As to his own position, Mr. Keeley was by
no means sure that either his life or his property were safe, but he
relied on his influence with his neighbours, which was considerable, and
he thought he would be able to keep them quiet and on their farms.
One night, just as my maid was going to bed, she suddenly saw, in the
bright moonlight, a tall figure step out of the shadow of the fir-trees.
For an instant a marauding Boer--a daily bugbear for weeks--flashed
across her mind, but the next moment she recognized Sergeant Matthews
from Setlagoli. He had ridden over post-haste to tell us the Boers were
swarming there, and that he and his men had evacuated the barracks. He
also warned us the same commando was coming here on the morrow, and
advised that all the cattle on the farm should be driven to a place of
safety. This information did not conduce to a peaceful night, but,
anyway, it gave one something to think of besides Mafeking. I buried a
small jewel-case and my despatch-box in the garden, and then we went
calmly to bed to await these unwelcome visitors. Mr. Keeley had
fortunately left the day before on a business visit to a neighbouring
farmer, for his presence would rather have contributed to our danger
than to our safety. When we awoke all was peaceful, and there was every
indication of a piping hot day. Mrs. Keeley was very calm and sensible,
and did not anticipate any rudeness. We decided to receive the burghers
civilly and offer them coffee, trusting that the exodus of all the
cattle would not rouse their ire. Our elaborate preparations were
wasted, for the Boers did not come. The weary hours dragged on, the sun
crawled across the steely blue heavens, and finally sank, almost
grudgingly, it seemed, into the west, leaving the coast clear for the
glorious full moon; the stars came out one by one; the goats and kids
came wandering back to the homestead with loud bleatings; and presently
everything seemed to sleep--everything except our strained nerves and
aching eyes, which had looked all day for Boers, and above all for news,
and had looked in vain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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