“Now quietly, lads, remember Majuba, God and our country.” This was the message for the British forces going into the South African War in 1899, after the humiliating defeat they suffered at the hands of the Boers on Majuba Hill in 1881 in the first Anglo-Boer War.
In late February I drove down to Newcastle and discovered that the Boerevolk is alive and strong, celebrating this victory annually, 145 years later, below the mountain (between Newcastle and Volksrust). Khaki shorts and shirts, veldskoene, leather hats, pukka Boer corduroy pants, kappies, classy waistcoats, grey beards and boeps abounded at the Majubafees 2026. All ready for a reenactment of the battle and much more.
A line of flags fluttered in the breeze, among them the Vierkleur, Dutch, German, French, Voortrekker and VOC (Dutch East India Company). A restored oxwagon stood alongside, a canon nearby. People had trekked here from across the country, including Orania, Northern Cape. Several hectares were packed with caravans, tents and the paraphernalia of camping, with barefooted children running about, some cracking long whips, sounding just like gunshots — gees in abundance. The broadcaster, Boermedia, with the catchphrase “Die berg herinner ons wie ons is”, was interviewing people.
There were 2,500 people present, including 50 New York Young Republican Club members, said Theuns Snyman, who has farmed here for the past 10 years. The programme included firing the canon, jukskei, volkspele, a potjiekos competition and a fire-lantern pilgrimage up to the first Majuba terrace.
At 2,102m above sea level, it makes for a stiff climb, at times almost vertical. It took battlefields guide Sean Friend and I about two hours to ascend, with stops to follow the battle ridge by ridge.
I met Friend the day before the reenactment to pit myself against the mountain. I had hiked up it 50 years previously as a student, but now the joints were as rusty as old bully beef cans.
There had been confrontations just before this battle, at nearby Laingsnek and Schuinshoogte, where the Boers klapped the Brits. Yet, Maj-Gen George Colley ordered 400 men up Majuba on the moonless night of March 26 1881, it being the tallest mountain around. The next morning they looked down on the Boers camped below and shook their fists at them.
The Boers easily spotted the redcoats on the summit edge. Veldkornet Stephanus Roos’s reaction was panic. “Everybody and everything was in confusion. I felt in my heart we are lost if we do not drive the English off the kop at once … there was no time or opportunity to call a council of war,” Thomas Pakenham quotes him in The Scramble for Africa.
As the Boers crept up, Lt Ian Hamilton watched in dismay as they got closer to the summit. He was stationed on a western knoll and ran over to Colley in the centre of the summit, where everyone was “eating, sleeping or smoking”. Colley thanked him for the message, but gave no orders to the men, and Hamilton went back to the knoll. The fourth time he approached Colley, asking for reinforcements, he was told that Colley was sleeping.
Friend and I started the northern ascent through a forest of invasive wattle trees, the surrounding koppies being enveloped in them. We were soon breathless and sweating in the heat and took the first of many breaks. The climb was steady, the ascent relentless, in places steep stone steps helping us, in others a welcome railing (the Boers had crawled up on their stomachs in places). The mountain consists of several terraces and ridges on the northern side. Friend described how the Boers ran forward on the open ground while their compatriots covered them from the rocky lip below. At this stage the Brits started firing down on them.
We moved on, like the Boers did, now hidden behind another ridge. And so the Boers made their way up, zig-zagging from ridge to ridge, to reach the summit. By then about 400 of them had crept up, with a contingent from the west, another from the east.
In 1877 Britain annexed the Orange Free State and the Transvaal, as the Transvaal was under threat from the Zulus and the Pedis; and besides, the Transvaal was bankrupt because some Boers didn’t pay their taxes, plus the “anarchy and disorder” of the Trekboers, according to Pakenham. British rule for the first three years was grudgingly accepted by the Boers, but by 1880 they were gatvol and their mounting dislike unified them.
They were a jumble of untrained men, with no semblance of an army, but they were excellent shots, and knew the terrain like they knew their Martini-Henrys. They gathered at Heidelberg to proclaim the republic and raise the Vierkleur. They were ready.
The first clash was at Bronkhorstspruit on December 20 1880, where the Boers overwhelmed the British after they refused to halt their march to Pretoria. “In just over 10 minutes the Boers had annihilated an eighth of all the British troops in the Transvaal,” writes Pakenham.
We reached the summit and before us stretched a large, undulating green expanse, with outcrops of rocks. The sun blazed down. Friend sketched the battle. The small group of men on the knoll were easily overwhelmed, then the Boers moved into the centre chasing and shooting men as they went.
The end was swift. The men, confused and overwhelmed, with no orders to follow, rushed back towards Colley, but were soon dashing down the way they had scrambled up just a few hours beforehand. “There was no last stand at Majuba. Soldiers were shot down like bolting rabbits,” recounts Pakenham. It was the end of the road for Colley. “When last seen alive, Colley was walking slowly towards the enemy, carrying his revolver.” Roos didn’t know who he was in the chaos. “A moment later Colley fell, a Boer bullet in the centre of his forehead.”
Colley had had an illustrious career in the military and moved up the ranks steadily, but he had no battlefield experience and, at 46, gave his life for Britain. The spot where he fell is marked with a cross inside a circle of rocks. Another circle of rocks marks a small cemetery. I stood in silence, taking in the details.
The next day I lined up in a large semicircle with the crowd on a grassy slope in the campsite to witness the Boers creep up on the line of redcoats. Friend had transformed into a regtige redcoat, with navy trousers, pith helmet, white belt and satchel, and black boots. Shots were fired, the Boers ran up the slope towards the line of Brits, puffs of smoke drifted upwards, redcoats fell in the grass. It was a pushover.
The British lost 92 men, the Boers one. The first Anglo-Boer War was over in three months.
My joints held out and I wasn’t stiff the next day. As I was leaving, I found a spent rifle cartridge in the grass. It’s my momento of an insightful, satisfying weekend, reliving a small slice of history.
Travel Notes:
Battlefields guide: Sean Friend, 082 367 9100.
To climb the mountain or camp, contact Theuns Snyman 079 274 7978.
For more information, visit https://majubaberg.co.za
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