That Night They Halted At The Pools Of
Klipfontein, Having For Once Made A Whole Day's March Without
Coming In Touch With The Enemy.
Hopes rose that possibly the two
successive defeats had taken the heart out of them and that there
would be no further resistance to the advance.
Some, however, who
were aware of the presence of Cronje, and of his formidable
character, took a juster view of the situation. And this perhaps is
where a few words might be said about the celebrated leader who
played upon the western side of the seat of war the same part which
Joubert did upon the east.
Commandant Cronje was at the time of the war sixty-five years of
age, a hard, swarthy man, quiet of manner, fierce of soul, with a
reputation among a nation of resolute men for unsurpassed
resolution. His dark face was bearded and virile, but sedate and
gentle in expression. He spoke little, but what he said was to the
point, and he had the gift of those fire-words which brace and
strengthen weaker men. In hunting expeditions and in native wars he
had first won the admiration of his countrymen by his courage and
his fertility of resource. In the war of 1880 he had led the Boers
who besieged Potchefstroom, and he had pushed the attack with a
relentless vigour which was not hampered by the chivalrous usages
of war. Eventually he compelled the surrender of the place by
concealing from the garrison that a general armistice had been
signed, an act which was afterwards disowned by his own government.
In the succeeding years he lived as an autocrat and a patriarch
amid his farms and his herds, respected by many and feared by all.
For a time he was Native Commissioner and left a reputation for
hard dealing behind him.
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