THE AFTERMATH OF THE RAID
Toward the close of the last chapter I referred to the Raid passing from
the forefront of public memory. But though, as a fact, it became blurred
in the mind of the people, as a factor in South African history its
influence by no means diminished. Indeed, the aftermath of the Raid
assumed far greater proportions as time went on. It influenced so entirely
the further destinies of South Africa, and brought about such enmities and
such bitterness along with it, that nothing short of a war could have
washed away its impressions. Up to that fatal adventure the Jingo English
elements, always viewed with distrust and dislike in the Transvaal as well
as at the Cape, had been more or less held back in their desire to gain an
ascendancy over the Dutch population, whilst the latter had accepted the
Jingo as a necessary evil devoid of real importance, and only annoying
from time to time.
After the Raid all the Jingoes who had hoped that its results would be to
give them greater facilities of enrichment considered themselves
personally aggrieved by its failure. They did just what Rhodes was always
doing. The Boers and President Kruger had acted correctly in this
enterprise of Doctor Jameson, but the Jingoes made them responsible for
the results of its failure. They went about giving expression to feelings
of the most violent hatred against the Boers, and railed at their
wickedness in daring to stand up in defence of rights which the British
Government had solemnly recognised. It became quite useless to tell those
misguided individuals that the Cabinet at Westminster had from the very
first blamed Rhodes for his share in what the English Press, with but few
exceptions, had declared to be an entirely disgraceful episode. They
pretended that people in London knew nothing about the true state of
affairs in South Africa or the necessities of the country; that the
British Government had always shown deplorable weakness in regard to the
treatment meted out to its subjects in the Colonies, and that both Rhodes
and Jameson were heroes whose names deserved to be handed down to
posterity for the services which they had rendered to their country.
It is true that these ardent Jingoes were but a small minority and that
the right-minded elements among the English Colonials universally blamed
the unwarranted attack that had been made against the independence of the
Transvaal. But the truculent minority shouted loud enough to drown the
censure, and as, with a few notable exceptions, the South African Press
was under the influence of the magnates, it was not very easy to protest
against the strange way in which the Raid was being excused. I am
persuaded that, had the subject been allowed to drop, it would have died a
natural death, or at worst been considered as an historical blunder. But
the partisans of Rhodes, the friends of Jameson, and personages connected
with the leading financial powers did their best to keep the remembrance
of the expedition which wrecked the political life of Rhodes fresh before
the public. The mere mention of it was soon sufficient to arouse a tempest
of passions, especially among the Dutch party, and by and by the history
of South Africa resolved itself into the Raid and its memories. You never
heard people say, "This happened at such a time"; they merely declared,
"This happened before, or after, the Raid." It became a landmark for the
inhabitants of Cape Town and of the Transvaal, and I could almost believe
that, in Kimberley at any rate, the very children in the schools were
taught to date their knowledge of English history from the time of the
Raid.
The enemies of Cecil Rhodes, and their number was legion, always declared
that the reason why he had faced the music and braved public opinion in
England lay in the fact that, for some reason or other, he was afraid of
Doctor Jameson. I have referred already to this circumstance. Whilst
refusing to admit such a possibility, yet I must own that the influence,
and even the authority exercised by the Doctor on his chief, had something
uncanny about it. My own opinion has always been that Rhodes' attitude
arose principally from his conviction that Jameson was the only one who
understood his constitution, the sole being capable of looking after his
health. Curious as it may seem, I am sure the Colossus had an inordinate
fear of death and of illness of any kind. He knew that his life was not a
sound one, but he always rebelled against the idea that, like other
mortals, he was subject to death. I feel persuaded that one of the reasons
why he chose to be buried in the Matoppo Hills was that, in selecting this
lonely spot, he felt that he would not often be called upon to see the
place where he would rest one day.
This dread of the unknown, so rare in people of his calibre, remained with
him until the end. It increased in acuteness as his health began to fail.
Then, more than ever, did he entertain and plan new schemes, as if to
persuade himself that he had unlimited time before him in which to execute
them. His flatterers knew how to play upon his weakness, and they never
failed to do so. Perhaps this foible explains the influence which Doctor
Jameson undoubtedly exercised upon the mind of Rhodes. He believed himself
to be in safety whenever Jameson was about him. And so in a certain sense
he was, because, with all his faults, the Doctor had a real affection for
the man to whom he had been bound by so many ties ever since the days when
at Kimberley they had worked side by side, building their fortunes and
their careers.
By a curious freak of destiny, when the tide of events connected with the
war had given to the Progressive English party a clear majority in the
Cape Parliament, Jameson assumed its leadership as a matter of course,
largely because he was the political next-of-kin to Rhodes. The fact that
at that time he lived at Groote Schuur added to his popularity, and he
continued whilst there the traditional hospitality displayed during the
lifetime of Rhodes. That he ultimately became Prime Minister was not
surprising; the office fell to his share as so many other good things had
fallen before; and, having obtained this supreme triumph and enjoyed it
for a time, he was tactful enough to retire at precisely the right moment.
The Raid indirectly killed Rhodes and directly obliterated his political
reputation. It lost him, too, the respect of all the men who could have
helped him to govern South Africa wisely and well. It deprived him of the
experience and popularity of Mr. Schreiner, Mr. Merriman, Mr. Sauer and
other members of the Afrikander Bond who had once been upon terms of
intimacy and affection with him.
It must never be forgotten that at one period of his history Rhodes was
considered to be the best friend of the Dutch party; and, secondly, that
he had been the first to criticise the action of the British Government in
regard to the Transvaal. At the very moment when the Raid was contemplated
he was making the most solemn assurances to his friends--as they then
believed themselves to be--that he would never tolerate any attack against
the independence of the Boers. If his advice had been taken, Rhodes
considered that the errors which culminated at Majuba with the defeat of
the British troops would have been avoided. He caused the same assurances
to be conveyed to President Kruger, and this duplicity, which in anyone
less compromised than he was in regard to the Dutch party might have been
blamed, was in his case considered as something akin to high treason, and
roused against him sentiments not only of hatred, but also of disgust.
When later on, at the time of the Boer War, Rhodes made attempts to
ingratiate himself once more into the favour of the Dutch he failed to
realise that while there are cases when animosity can give way before
political necessity, it is quite impossible in private to shake hands with
an individual whom one despises. And that such persons as Mrs. van Koopman
or Mr. Schreiner, for instance, despised Rhodes there can be no doubt.
They were wrong in doing so. Rhodes was essentially a man of moods, and
also an opportunist in his strange, blunt way. Had the Dutch rallied round
him during the last war it is certain that he would have given himself up
body and soul to the task of trying to smooth over the difficulties which
gave such an obstinate character to the war. He would have induced the
English Government to grant to all rebel colonists who returned to their
allegiance a generous pardon and reinstatement into their former rights.
Even while the war lasted it is a fact that, in a certain sense, Rhodes'
own party suspected him of betraying its interests. I feel almost sure
that Sir Alfred Milner did not trust him, but, nevertheless, he would have
liked Rhodes as a coadjutor. If the two men were never on sincerely
cordial terms with one another it was not the fault of the High
Commissioner, who, with that honesty of which he always and upon every
occasion gave proof, tried to secure the co-operation of the great South
African statesman in his difficult task. But Rhodes would not help Sir
Alfred. But neither, too, would he help the Dutch unless they were willing
to eat humble pie before him. In fact, it was this for which Rhodes had
been waiting ever since the Raid. He wanted people to ask his forgiveness
for the faults he himself had committed. He would have liked Sir Alfred
Milner to beg of him as a favour to take the direction of public affairs,
and he would have desired the whole of the Dutch party to come down _in
corpore_ to Groote Schuur, to implore him to become their leader and to
fight not only for them but also for the rights of President Kruger, whom
he professed to ridicule and despise, but to whom he had caused assurances
of sympathy to be conveyed.
During the first period of the war, and especially during the siege, Cecil
Rhodes was in Kimberley. He had gone with the secret hope that he might be
able from that centre to retain a stronger hold on South African politics
than could have been the case at Groote Schuur, in which region the only
authority recognised by English and Dutch alike was that of Sir Alfred
Milner. He waited for a sign telling him that his ambition was about to be
realised in some way or other--and waited in vain. It is indisputable that
whilst he was shut up in the Diamond City Rhodes entered into secret
negotiations with some of the Dutch leaders. This, though it might have
been construed in the sense of treason against his own Motherland had it
reached the knowledge of the extreme Jingo party, was in reality the
sincere effort of a true patriot to put an end to a struggle which was
threatening to destroy the prosperity of a country for which he had
laboured for so many years.
In judging Rhodes one must not forget that though a leading personality in
South Africa, and the chairman of a corporation which practically ruled
the whole of the Cape Colony and, in part, also the Transvaal, he was,
after all, at that time nothing but a private individual. He had the right
to put his personal influence at the service of the State and of his
country if he considered that by so doing he could bring to an end a war
which threatened to bring destruction on a land that was just beginning to
progress toward civilisation. It must be remembered that his was the only
great personality in South Africa capable of opposing President Kruger and
the other Dutch and Boer leaders. He was still popular among many
people--feared by some, worshipped by others. He could rally round him
many elements that would never coalesce with either Dutch or English
unless he provided the impetus of his authority and approval. If only he
had spoken frankly to the Boer leaders whom he had caused to be
approached, called them to his side instead of having messages conveyed to
them by people whom he could disavow later on and whom, in fact, he did
disavow; and if, on the other hand, Rhodes had placed himself at the
disposal of Sir Alfred Milner, and told him openly that he would try to
see what he could do to help him, the tenseness of the situation would
almost certainly have been eased.
In a position as intermediary between two adversaries who required his
advice and influence to smooth the way toward a settlement of the terrible
South African question Rhodes could have done incalculable service and
added lustre to his name. But he did not, and it is not without interest
to seek the reason why the Colossus was not courageous enough to embark
upon such a course. Whether through fear of his actions being wrongly
interpreted, or else because he did not feel sure of his ground and was
apprehensive lest he might be induced to walk into a trap, Cecil Rhodes
never would pronounce himself upon one side or the other. He left to
well-wishers the task of reconciliation between himself and his enemies,
or, if not that, at least the possibility for both once more to take
common action for the solution of South African difficulties. The
unfortunate side of the whole affair lay in the fact that the Boer and
Bond leaders each remained under the impression that in the Raid affair it
was against their particular body that Rhodes had sinned, that it was
their cause which he had betrayed. Accordingly they expected him to
recognise this fact and to tell them of his regret.
But this was not Rhodes' way: on the contrary, he looked to his
adversaries to consider that they had wronged him. Both parties adhered
firmly to their point of view; it was not an easy matter to persuade
either of them to take the initiative. Each very well knew and felt it was
an indispensable step, but each considered it should be taken by the
other.
This brings me to make a remark which probably has never yet found its way
into print, though some have spoken about it in South Africa. It is that
Cecil Rhodes, whilst being essentially an Empire Maker, was not an Empire
Ruler. His conceptions were far too vast to allow him to take into
consideration the smaller details of everyday life which, in the
management of the affairs of the world, obliges one to consider possible
ramifications of every great enterprise. Rhodes wanted simply to sweep
away all obstacles without giving the slightest thought to the
consequences likely to follow on so offhand a manner of getting rid of
difficulties.
In addition to this disregard of vital details, there was a tinge of
selfishness in everything which Rhodes undertook and which gave a personal
aspect to matters which ought to have been looked upon purely from the
objective. The acquisition of Rhodesia, for instance, was considered by
him as having been accomplished for the aggrandisement of the Empire and
also for his own benefit. He sincerely believed that he had had nothing
else in his mind when he founded the Chartered Company, than the desire to
conquer a new country and to give it to England; but he would certainly
have felt cruelly affronted if the British Government had ever taken its
administration into its own hands and not allowed Rhodes to do exactly
what he pleased there. He loved to go to Buluwayo, and would spend weeks
watching all that was being done in the way of agriculture and mining. In
particular, he showed considerable interest in the natives.
The Colonial Office in London was treated by Cecil Rhodes with the utmost
disdain on the rare occasions when it tried to put in a word concerning
the establishment of British rule in the territories which he gloried in
having presented to the Queen. It was sufficient to mention in his
presence the possibility of the Charter being recalled to put Rhodes into
a passion. No king or tyrant of old, indeed, treated his subjects with the
severity which Rhodes showed in regard to the different civil officials
and military defenders of the Rhodesia he loved so much and so unwisely.
It is curious that Rhodes never allowed speculation a free hand in
Rhodesia as he had done at Kimberley or at Johannesburg. He was most
careful that outsiders should not hear about what was going on, and took
endless precautions not to expose the companies that worked the old
dominions of poor King Lobengula, to the sharp criticism of the European
Stock Exchanges. Their shares remained in the hands of people on whose
discretion Rhodes believed that he could rely, and no one ever heard of
gambling in scrip exciting the minds of the inhabitants of Buluwayo or
Salisbury to anything like the degree stocks in Transvaal concerns did.
In Rhodesia Rhodes believed himself on his own ground and free from the
criticisms which he guessed were constantly uttered in regard to him and
to his conduct. In the new land which bore his name Rhodes was surrounded
only by dependants, whilst in Cape Colony he now and then came across
someone who would tell him and, what was worse, who would make him feel
that, after all, he was not the only man in the world, and that he could
not always have everything his own way. Moreover, in Cape Town there was
the Governor, whose personality was more important than his own, and whom,
whether he liked it or not, he had to take into consideration, and to
whom, in a certain sense, he had to submit. And in Kimberley there was the
De Beers Board which, though composed of men who were entirely in
dependence upon him and whose careers he had made, yet had to be
consulted. He could not entirely brush them aside, the less so that a
whole army of shareholders stood behind them who, from time to time, were
impudent enough to wish to see what was being done with their money.
Nothing in the way of hampering critics or circumscribing authorities
existed in Rhodesia. The Chartered Company, though administered by a
Board, was in reality left entirely in the hands and under the control of
Rhodes. Most of the directors were in England and came before public
notice only at the annual general meeting, which was always a success,
inasmuch as no one there had ever ventured to criticise, otherwise than in
a mild way, the work of the men who were supposed to watch over the
development of the resources of the country. Rhodes was master, and
probably his power would have even increased had he lived long enough to
see the completion of the Cape to Cairo Railway, which was his last hobby
and the absorbing interest of the closing years of his life.
The Cape to Cairo Railway was one of those vast schemes that can be
ascribed to the same quality in his character as that which made him so
essentially an Empire Maker. It was a project of world-wide importance,
and destined to set the seal to the paramount influence of Great Britain
over the whole of Africa. It was a work which, without Rhodes, would never
have been accomplished. He was right to feel proud of having conceived it;
and England, too, ought to be proud of having counted among her sons a man
capable of starting such a vast enterprise and of going on with it despite
the violent opposition and the many misgivings with which it was received
by the general public.