Deadwood Camp Gedenksboek
Memorabilia from St Helena

Notice made from stamps
Artwork made from cutting up postage stamps. Likely made by F.J.Smaalen as it is on the same paper that comprises his book.
Map of battle of Paardeberg
Hand drawn illustrated map of Battle of Paardeberg 18-27 Feb 1900
Kitchener to Secretary of State for War by J M'Keown
Kitchener to Secretary of State for War by J M'Keown


I am taking measures once for all to clear my reputation;
I swear to give De Wet a fall that means annihilation.
A brilliant action bt Brabant; the enemy has fled;
Their loss was something dreadful; ours - a single kaffir dead
De Wet is short of foodstuffs, his ammunition's done,
His horses are all dying, and he's only got one gun.
The cordon draws in round De Wet; he has now little room;
He only can escape one way - by road to Potchefstroom.
De Wet is now caged like a rat;he's fairly in a box;
Around him grouped are Clements, Clery, Metheun, French & Knox.
An unfiortunate event occurred - I report it with regret -
A convoy with five hundred men was captured by De Wet.
A kaffir runner says he saw De Wet's men trekking West,
With ammunition for two years and food supply the best.
Saturday (later)
A loyal farmer told our scouts De Wet was riding East;
Each man beside the horse he rode was leading a spare beast.

J M'Keown

Rock Perry

eenige Gedichten
Een lied van de Boeren
Some Poems

Found in packets of tobacco sent to us every month by our friends in Holland.

They will never have it

A song for the Boers

They will never have it
Our precious Transvaal
The Brits will never lord it
Over our people or tongue
Their plunder and destruction
Their murders, fires and ………
Will never smother the cries
To God for revenge
The blood of our heroes
Might soak into the veld
Until not a single mealie grain
Inside the husk would swell
The brave ones might fade
On St Helena's rocks
Their somber moaning drowned
Out by crashing noise of waves
There is a God of all gods
Close to all exiles
There is a groaning sigh
Which reaches through the clouds
Those mighty on the earth
Are blind to deugd and right
Above all is the Judge
Who rules this bloody case
Oh mothers in old England
are your hearts made of stone?
That you have no feelings
for our mothers, their flesh and bone
no sympathy, not a tear
not even a word of comfort
for us in our plight?
The women are going hungry
The children suffer thirst
The infant lies dying
At his mother's dry breast
No husband nor a father
To help them
They hold their world in their arms
But keep their mouths shut
The wounds have healed
Made by mighty steel
Not for them to meet again
Nor hear their toddlers' tongue
Not a single man is left to see
His wife, his child, his way of life
Is this then his reward ?
Oh God of mighty armies
Is all of Europe deaf
Does no-one really hear our
Plea, not big nor small?
Lord, arbitrate between us
Ease our bitter lot
You, Lord of right and truth
Oh God of Lebaoth
We have sinned most badly
In luxury and deeds
Abandoned our fear of God
To our fathers' dismay
But for YOUR sake O lord
We recall our old covenant
Please let the song of freedom
Start forming in our mouths.
Even if we are far from our fathers
whom previously He made
martyrs and heroes
unworthy as they were
But we are still their children
The youngest shoot are we
And the Saviour of both them and us
Is no-one Lord than you!
We feel again the ties;
Capricious as we are
By sea and desert split
A century and more
We once again feel Dutch
in heart and kidneys, one
the crucible has rejoined
that which was long apart.
"Have mercy on us Father
and over our poor folk
over which you have made me
their shepherd and their voice"
Thus prayed Father William
His deathbed's confession
Oh Lord hear our soul's cry
Hear us, hear us please!
They shall not have it,
our precious Fatherland.
In spite of all the trouble
It stays God's property
They shall not have it,
The gods of this time
Will not own our place
For God has set us free

De Wet
On a feisty horse with his gun in his hand
Over mountains and streams through mud and through sand
With the heavens his roof and the bare earth his bed
Roams the heroic figure of Christiaan de Wet
As sharp as a falcon
As clever as fox
Hungry as a lion
And fleeing like a ………………
He ambushed a convoy
Escaped the tight net
The Super-Afrikaner
Christiaan de Wet
Translation by J Marsh

Paul Kruger
Paul Kruger deur Joseph J Kuhn

Paul Kruger

By Joseph J Kuhn

………………..let me sing
………….once Orpheus sang:
let me also force a tone
which will wring out my heartache:
You, driven through the glow
hero in ordinary life
worthy to sit for portraits
what I could expect from him
as he sits in dark days
soul sick and saddened.

Where to find language, where the words
To depict you, O great hero?
O'er the world's half shattered borders
your name is known across the world!
Yes, oh hero, oh one most-famed hero
May a lyre highlight your virtue
… of mine can offer to you now
Can anyone in attendance
Ever forget our greatest hero
Always your heart - "Oom Paul" - never!

His likeness is known in all countries
Spread over the world
His trekking, rough hands,
His shoes, his high hat
His long pipe adds to the image
…. drawn effortlessly
…. just as well known
His eyes fixed on Chamberlain
… that he walked under pretty trees
along with Bismarck.

Yet - there is still in his being
That which cannot be drawn
In his eyes you can read
Not much found in many men
Given by nature only to leaders
To those who would be saviours
… for whom is destiny
… spark of something heavenly
… their life's struggle
…his ideal emphasized.

…power for which you now wander
until they have spoken to you
the power, which in this life
comes from winning
The faith's fire of prophecy
The glow from poetry
Bearing your mighty bosom
A spirit of highest offering
Which never stops inspiring
Making everything immortal

Because he has placed his trust
In the Almighty
Does he suffer regrets?
Is he disheartened? the hero?
Do they hear him in England?
They listen to his words

V7 He came along to Europe
Because of England's dastard deed
His country has been robbed of land
His people hounded - his name insulted
He is laden with troubles
And sighs in tears and prayers
On behalf of his country and people.
He waits patiently for the blink of an eye
In which his God will refresh him once more
By removing this dark cloud!

"Will no-one thus arbitrate?"
He asks one in The Hague
"I cannot deny it - we have sinned
Many times - yes, pushed our luck
We were the ones who started the war
But they who drove us to it
With their unreasonable demands
Which 'twas our duty to withstand".

"We have many witnesses
Who will speak of our rights
Let people judge between us
We are right about our people's rights"
Thus pleads the hero, crestfallen
As he pleads in dark days
For freedom - yes, he is the one
Who translates; the pure bell tone who
Sounds the call from bitter camps
On behalf of his oppressed people.

When somebody sympathises
With the lot of his spouse,
He answers he desires to be with her
And that he hopes, through mercy
To return to her side by the grace
Of the Lord's strong right hand.
The enemy have behaved so well
That he cannot complain about her
But oh: the land! the land! the land!

When he pleads, his voice becomes
Soft, like that of a woman,
Whose heart is clamped in fear
And bitter motherly mourning!
Then he thrusts his hands away
As if he's breaking chains which
Bind his people in sorrow.
But, as has been stated,
One must hear him speak
To appreciate the truth
In his powerful words.

Will his future be as we might read
like Moses' going to [Mt] Nebo
Will he then still be an outcast
The rest of his life as a banished one?
We ask, will he have to wait long years
For someone to step in as his arbitrator
Or will he also die at Pisgah?
…………………..the view

Will years ring in his ears
The knell of arbitration
While his people let him listen
To the groaning of death?
Must he be treated like a child
Before the powers that be
Recognize he has rights?
Will he return to his beloved land
And once more rule that tiny people
As their free president?

His answer is that with God
All things are made possible -
He helps those who keep his covenant
No matter how big or small.
Here was a man who attributed
All his strength, his power, his works
To the glory of th' Almighty
Whatever happened to him t'was God's will
And he'd be comforted evermore.

But when the "Vierkleur" flutters freely
Free once more 'bove African soil,
And we remember fondly
The bravest who strove for our Fatherland;
When the veld is blooming
And the crops are growing in prosperous fields
Earth shall fatten us and, driven from Eden,
We shall thrive where we kicked tin cans around.

When the lambs bleat in the evenings
Driven by men from field to shed,
A farmer calling in the dark
of blood once more richly seen
When land and cattle breed success
Transvaal will seem a Paradise!
And to the South, East and North
The rugged Vaal River banks
Show off their modest blooms…

When land and cattle breed success
Transvaal will look like Paradise
Then in the pleasant days
Oh Mother, those who read these lines
The little children will enquire
"But why was there this struggle?"
Oh! Will you then make it your goal
Yes tell the youngsters
About the noble Afrikaans hero!
Oh! Do not tire of teaching them
To honour the old statesmen
Whose virtue led to many triumphs!

And Fathers, as you sit together
With your family round your hearth
Push all weevils aside
As you stare at Kruger's statue
Will you - for the love, which he showed in his life
For his land, forgive him all!
Yes, make his suffering softer
Let hatred and envy sink into the ground
So that his name could still sound ………..

Translation by J Marsh

English Volkslied
Nuwe Engelsch Volkslied

A New English Anthem
To the tune of the "Transvaal Anthem"
("Kent jy dat Volk")

Do you know the people full of pride weep
These people, so long the boss
Have been pushed off their throne
By people of butter-cheese.
Oh British! Let your lips hang
…….. on your nose
Your best land forces are defeated
Fallen giant Albion
….. nose, … on your nose
Fallen, fallen giant
Do you know the ocean-ruling land
once mighty, now so small
Her greed defeated common sense
And truth is but an image
Oh Britain! Powerful above all
You were strong and pure
Punished and pushed off your pedestal
All the work of the Boers.
The work of the Boers, it shows you up
The work of the "Damned Boers"
Do you know the people who time and time again
Conquered a mighty realm
But now are covered in slime
Thanks to ungrateful Boers
Oh Britain! your struggles were noble
Your hands did only good
You wanted to civilise everyone
Rather than chase gold and diamonds
But your efforts were repulsed
And now gold passes by our noses.

* * * * * * *

Translation by J Marsh

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