Field Cornet Hermanus Stephanus Antonie Labuschagne

The Life of Field Cornet Hermanus Stephanus Antonie Labuschagne, Boer War Veteran as told by Herman Labuschagne

About 30 kilometres up the valley and across the ridge from where I grew up lies the peaceful little town of Paulpietersburg. In this town lived a distant relative of mine whom everyone knew as “Oom Manie Labuschagne.” Oom Manie was well-known for several reasons, and one of them was the fact that he lived to the age of 106 years and two months. I probably never met him, and if I had, I would not have remembered, for he died one day before my 7th birthday.

Uncle Manie was a self-taught man in many ways, having had only here months of school education. Nevertheless, this was enough to enable him to lead church services when the need pressed. When the Second Anglo-Boer War broke out he joined the Transvaal forces and was promoted near Rondspring, Vryheid district, to the rank of field cornet.

His daughter, Tant Anna, told me when how Uncle Manie had once returned to his command to find that they had captured a British officer whose thumb they had shot off. He found them busy putting on the officer’s clothing without taking care of his wound. Upon this, Uncle Manie was incensed and ordered his men to return the officer’s clothing at once.
He then dressed the man’s wound, before sending him off on a train with the words: “Ry boetie!” – “Ride little brother!”

After the war he bought a horse in Newcastle. Suddenly he received a message which state that there was an Englishman outside who wished to speak to him. He replied that he would come, but only once had finished his meal.

Upon meeting the man, the stranger said he doesn’t know whether Oom Manie would still remember him, but “you took care of my wound and didn’t shoot me dead, and you then put me on a horse. And now I’ve brought you this pocket watch with your name engraved on it…”

Uncle Manie was a very brave man. He made a habit of sneaking into British camps, cutting their horses loose and driving them off to the commandos. He became such a menace that orders were issued that he was to be shot on sight. It was said that when the Boers were being pursued by the British, he would pull his horse around and charge at the British, which would put them to flight in stead.

Uncle Manie was the first man who arrived upon the scene of the tragic massacre at Holkrans. He and his men had heard he shots during the night, but unsure what they meant, and with the night being very dark, he was only able to leave near dawn in order to investigate.

There he found a horror scene which must have haunted is memory for the rest of his life. One of the men who survived was still hiding in the freezing cold stream. He had nearly died of the cold because it was winter and the veld was white with frost.
When Uncle Manie arrived the poor man clattered: “The Lord has sent you to us!”

At the camp itself evidence of the terror of the night could be seen in all directions. One Burger was hanging from a gate where his hand had gotten stuck – probably as he tried to leap across. Another man had a spear wound to his stomach and was trying to hold his entrails in with his hands. Uncle Manie recognized him as his brother-in-law’s eldest son.

A little later some one cried out to Oom Manie: “There’s one hiding!”
He looked and found one of the Zulus who had attacked the camp that night who was still hiding nearby. Being wounded, he was sitting between two boulders with his shield above his head to provide some shade.

Uncle Manie yanked him out, grabbed is spear, and told the man who had discovered him that he could kill the warrior with his own spear. When the Burger struck him, the Zulu jumped up “with a roar,” Tant Anna said, before falling dead on the ground. The information that Uncle Manie received was that the magistrate Shepstone had sent the Zulus on their killing mission.

When Uncle Manie’s unit had to surrender at the end of the war, they were made to march down two lines of soldiers. At the end of this procession, the Burgers smashed their own rifles before discarding them onto a heap, lest they should provide their captors with working weapons.

Uncle Manie was very displeased with this undignified behaviour and warned his men sternly: “Just ONE of you smash a rifle like that and you’ll be dealing with me!”

Uncle Manie never drove a car. He rode a horse and still won a horse riding prize at the age of 80. He was a man who was greatly honoured by his community and who become well-known for his selfless charity and his Christian values. He built a mission church on a farm in the district, and overall, spent many years of his life in service of his fellow man.

There is more to tell about this remarkable fighter who represented the last of the bravest of the frontiersmen from a vanished generation. Alas, I know but some of his stories, and I’m sure there must have been many more. I am fortunate that I went out of my way one day to go and talk to his very sweet daughter. I only met her that one single time, but I heard that she still asked about me for some years after.

It is important to realize that old people want to tell their stories, even if they say they don’t. I have noticed that with very old people, their needs eventually become quite small. But there is one thing that they desire more than most – and that is for someone to sometimes just take the time to sit and listen to their ancient memories.

They know that their train is due to leave the station shortly – but somehow they often just want to leave a little bit about themselves behind with someone who seems to care. Tant Anna was 92 when we talked on that balmy afternoon while the honey bees were droning amongst a million purple jacaranda flowers. Paulpietersburg seemed as if it had known peace for ever and the war seemed so far behind us. But her stories made it all come alive again.

Old people are not supposed to miss their parents so much anymore. But Tant Anna’s eyes were shining when she told me about him – and when her tale was finished, her eyes were misty. She still loved and missed him, even after all those many years.

Rev. DanielHeese

In the week before his death, Rev. Heese escorted a sick friend, Mr. Craig, to the Swiss Mission Hospital at Elim, North of Fort Edward, for an operation. Mr. Craig was admitted on Tuesday 20 August 1901.

Friday 23 August 1901 – Rev. Heese was in a hurry to get back to the Mission Station at Makaanspoort as his third daughter was to celebrate her first birthday on 26 August 1901. At the Swiss Mission Hospital Rev Heese spoke to Boer Prisoners of War, some of whom he knew – Mr. Wahmeyer (a teacher at Potgietersrust). They stated that they were afraid that they would be shot. Later when Rev. Heese was leaving he saw that the Boer Prisoners of War had been shot. He told Captain Taylor that he would report this to the British Officer at Pietersburg. Rev. Heese and the young African boy proceeded by horse-buggy with a white flag attached. He never made it to his daughter’s first birthday. He was thirty-four years old when he died and the nameless African boy was twelve years old when he died – both were shot.

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daniel_Heese)

Hans Cordua

If Cordua’s plan had been successful, history books in South Africa may have told a different story…….

Cordua was an 23 year old idealistic German immigrant, sympathetic to the Boer cause and became the first Boer to be put to death by a British firing squad in the 2nd Anglo Boer War. In 1899, Hans Cordua was a Luitenant in the ‘Staatsartillerie’. Lord Roberts  takes  Pretoria on the 5th of June and Hans stops fighting, signs neutrality but continues living in Pretoria. Some sources say he becomes a spy against the British. 1 month into being neutal, Hans’ plan is hatched.

It is also at this point in the re-telling of his story that the sources differ. Some record Hans as becoming a volunteer to the British and wearing their uniform.  Other  sources claim he acquired the uniform and pass from a Spaniard with the name of Gano (a previously discharged British agent) who ‘helped’ to put the plan in action and later sold out Cordua, possibly to gain grace from the crown again.

Hans planned to kidnap Roberts and use him to ‘bargain’ with the crown to end the war by ‘forcing’ the crown’s hand calling for the British troops to leave South Africa on pains of the kidnapped Roberts’ death. His plan was put into action by setting alight a few buildings on the West side of Pretoria. Cordua’s men would be hiding on or near the property of the Lord and in the expected confusion would kidnap Roberts and move him to the nearest Boer Commando.

Others say he was sold out by Boer troops. These sources claim that General Louis Botha and other generals were aware of his plan since he made contact with the Pretoria spy network consisting of mainly non-combatant ex-Transvaal  burgers and policemen then living in Pretoria, whom were also taken into custody and later exiled to Ceylon. When Hans was taken into custody he was dressed in khaki and he had in his possession a map of the area as well as a map of the layout of the Roberts’ premises. Hans was brought before a British court martial and accused of three crimes;

1/ Under false  pretences he wore the British uniform.

2/ He broke the oath of neutrality and parole, allowing him to freely move around.

3/ Lastly he master-minded the kidnapping of a British officer.

Five days later the verdict was declared.


"For being found wearing the uniform of a British solder in time of war in the enemy's country - death;

for breaking his oath of parole - death;

for conspiring with others to sieze the persons of certain British officers - death. "

Cordua was condemned to face the firing squad. Throughout his trial he showed no emotion. A guard at the court even commented that Cordua was a brave man. In the last known letter he wrote he claimed he had received a fair trial. The men arrested, in addition to Cordua, were Melt Marais, the Veld Cornet of Pretoria, Major Erasmus, of the Transvaal Artillery, Lieutenant Du Toit, of the Police, George Du Plessis, a late Government official, and one or two others. After a short detention Melt Marais was permitted to live with his family in the Colony.

Three days later the sentence was carried out. Cordua is taken to the gardens of the Pretoria jail, blindfolded and  seated in a chair. At his request he is not tied up. He is shot dead and buried  on the 24th August  1900. His body is later re-buried in an old cemetery in Church Street West. The inscription on the tombstone reads “Hans Cordua. Born 25 September 1876. Died on 24 August 1900.”

We will never know if his plan would have been successful as it was found out. So much mystery surrounds this plot that the true facts remain as deep a secret as the potential outcome of his plan. 

 

Extracts from book Innocent Blood Graham Jooste, Roger Webster .....http://tinyurl.com/nqlmplo

http://repository.up.ac.za/.../14080/001_Voorblad-p62.pdf...
(Pages2,- 6)