DEALING WITH THE REFUGEES
The refugees were a continual worry and annoyance to the English community
at the Cape. As time went on it became extremely difficult to conciliate
the differing interests which divided them, and to prevent them from
committing foolish or rash acts likely to compromise British prestige in
Africa. The refugees were for the most boisterous people. They insisted
upon being heard, and expected the whole world to agree with their
conclusions, however unstable these might be. It was absolutely useless to
talk reason to a refugee; he refused to listen to you, but considered
that, as he had been--as he would put it--compelled to leave that modern
paradise, the Rand, and to settle at Cape Town, it became the
responsibility of the inhabitants of Cape Town to maintain him. Table
Mountain echoed with the sounds of their vain talk. They considered that
they were the only people who knew anything about what the English
Government ought to do, and who criticised it the most, threatening at
every moment that they would write to their influential friends--even the
poorest and most obscure had "influential friends"--revealing the
abominable way in which English interests were neglected in Cape Colony,
where the Government, according to them, only helped the rebels, and
considered their wants and requirements in preference to those of their
own people.
At first, when they were not known as they deserved to be, some persons
fresh from the Mother Country, to whom South African morals and intrigues
were unknown, took to heart the position as well as the complaints of
those refugees. Hearing them continually mention cases in which rebel
Dutch had, in this way or that, shown their want of allegiance to the
British Government, conclusions were jumped at that there must exist a
reason for these recriminations and allegations, and that British
officials were in reality too anxious to conciliate the anti-English
elements in the Colony, to the detriment of the loyalists, whose feelings
of patriotism they considered, as a matter of course, required no reward
and scarcely any encouragement. These people, unequipped with the truth,
took up with a warmth which it certainly did not deserve the cause of
these loyalists, sought their advice, and formed a totally wrong and even
absurd opinion both as to South African politics and the conduct of the
representatives of the Queen in Cape Town.
All the misrepresentation and misunderstanding which took place
increasingly, led to animosity on the part of the Dutch. Rightly or
wrongly, it was taken as a matter of course that Rhodes favoured the idea
of a total annihilation of the Cape Dutch. And as he was considered a kind
of demigod by so many the idea was widely circulated, and became at last
deeply rooted in the minds of most of the white population of South
Africa, who, without being able to say why, considered it in consequence a
part of its duty to exaggerate in the direction of advocating severity
toward the Dutch. This did not contribute to smoothen matters, and it grew
into a very real danger, inimical to the conclusion of an honourable and
permanent peace. Federation, which at one time had been ardently wished
for almost everywhere, became a new cause for anxiety as soon as it was
known that Rhodes was in favour of it. People fancied that his ambitions
lay in the direction of a kind of dictatorship exercised by himself over
the whole of South Africa, a dictatorship which would make him in effect
master of the country.
This, however, was the last thing which the financiers on the Rand wished.
Indeed, they became quite alarmed at the thought that it might become
possible, and hastened to explain to Sir Alfred Milner the peril which
such a thing, if it ever happened, would constitute for the community at
large. Their constant attendance upon Sir Alfred, however, gave rise to
the idea that these financiers wanted to have it all their own way with
him and with the Cabinet at home, and that they meant to confiscate the
Transvaal to their own profit.
The presence of the moneyed class at the Cape had also another drawback:
it exasperated the poorer refugees, who could not forgive those who, too,
had fled the Rand, for having so successfully saved their own belongings
from the general ruin and remained rich, when so many of those who had
directly or indirectly helped them to acquire their wealth were starving
at their door. In reality the magnates of the Rand spent huge sums in the
relief of their poorer brethren in misfortune. I know from personal
experience, having often solicited them in favour of, say, some
unfortunate Russian Jew or a destitute Englishman who had lost all his
earthly belongings through the war. These millionaires, popularly accused
of being so hardhearted, were always ready with their purses to help those
who appealed to their charity. But the fact that they were able to live in
large and luxurious houses whilst so many others were starving in hovels,
that their wives wore diamonds and pearls, and that they seemed still to
be able to gratify their every desire, exasperated the multitude of
envious souls congregated at the Cape.
A general feeling of uneasiness and of unpleasantness began to weigh on
the whole atmosphere, and as it was hardly possible for anyone to attack
openly those who had inexhaustible purses, it became the fashion to say
that the Dutch were responsible for the general misfortune, and to
discover means of causing them unpleasantness.
On the other hand, as the war went on and showed no signs of subsiding,
the resources of those who, with perfect confidence in its short duration,
had left the Rand at a moment's notice, began to dwindle the more quickly
insomuch as they had not properly economised in the beginning, when the
general idea was prevalent that the English army would enter Pretoria for
the Christmas following upon the beginning of the war, and that an era of
unlimited prosperity was about to dawn in the Transvaal. I do believe that
among certain circles the idea was rooted that once President Kruger had
been expelled from the Rand its mines would become a sort of public
property accessible to the whole community at large, and controlled by all
those who showed any inclination for doing so.
The mine owners themselves looked upon the situation from a totally
different point of view. They had gathered far too much experience
concerning the state of things in South Africa to nurse illusions as to
the results of a war which was bound to put an end to the corruption of
the Transvaal Republic. They would have preferred infinitely to let things
remain in the condition into which they had drifted since the Raid,
because they understood that a strong British Government would be
interested in putting an end to the abuses which had transformed the Rand
into an annexe of the Stock Exchange of almost every European capital.
But, as the war had broken out, they preferred that it should end, in the
establishment of a regular administration which could neither be bought
nor persuaded to serve interests in preference to the public. They did not
relish the possible triumph of a single man, backed by a powerful
financial company, with whom they had never lived upon particularly
affectionate terms.
Rather than see South Africa continue under the influence which had
hitherto held it in grip, the magnates preferred to associate themselves
with Sir Alfred Milner to bring about as soon as possible a Federation of
the different South African States, where there would be no place for the
ambition of a single individual, and where the domination of one financial
company would become an impossibility. These magnates were reasonable
people after all, quite content, after they had taken the cream, to allow
others to drink. The fever for gold had left them. The fact was that these
people were not at all anxious to remain at Johannesburg; they preferred
to gather dividends in London rather than to toil in South Africa; the
merry, merry days of the Rand had come to an end.
Altogether, indeed, things were beginning to slow down at Johannesburg, in
spite of the fictitious agitation by the Rhodesian party. The war had come
as a relief to everybody, and afforded the magnates the opportunity which
they had been longing for, to enforce order and economy upon a stringent
scale in their mines and to begin modelling their concerns after a
European fashion, closing the door upon adventurers and cutting off the
"financial fringe." The times when new fields of exploitation were
discovered every day were at an end; the treasures which the Transvaal
contained in the way of precious metals and stones had all been located;
and very few surprises could be expected in that direction. It was time
for the pioneers to retire upon their laurels and to give to themselves,
as well as to their fortunes, the sedate appearance which they required in
order to be able to take a place amid the most elegant and exclusive
society of Europe. Had Rhodes remained alive he would have proved the one
great obstacle which the magnates of the Rand would have to take into
consideration, the disturbing element in a situation that required calm
and quiet.
If Cecil Rhodes had been allowed to decide alone as to the best course of
action to pursue he also might have come to the same conclusion as these
magnates. During those moments when he was alone with his own thoughts and
impulses he would have realised his duty toward his country. He was
conscious, if others were not, of how utterly he had lost ground in South
Africa, and he understood that any settlement of the South African
difficulties could only become permanent if his name were not associated
with it. This, though undeniable, was a great misfortune, because Rhodes
understood so perfectly the art of making the best of every situation, and
using the resources to hand, that there is no doubt he would have brought
forward a practical solution of the problems which had cropped up on every
side. He might have proved of infinite use to Sir Alfred Milner by his
thorough knowledge of the Dutch character and of the leaders of the Dutch
party with whom he had worked. But Rhodes was not permitted to decide
alone his line of conduct: there were his supporters to be consulted, his
so-called friends to pacify, the English Jingoes to satisfy, and, most
difficult of all, the Bond and Dutch party to please. Moreover, he had
been indulging in various intrigues of his own, half of which had been
conducted through others and half carried out alone, with what he believed
was success. In reality they proved to be more of these disappointments he
had courted with a carelessness which would have appeared almost
incredible if one did not know Cecil Rhodes. The Rhodesians, who with
intention had contrived to compromise him, never left him a moment to his
own thoughts. Without the flatterers who surrounded him Rhodes would
undoubtedly have risen to the height of the situation and frankly and
disinterestedly put himself at the disposal of the High Commissioner. But
they managed so to irritate him against the representative of the Queen,
so to anger him against the Dutch party to which he had belonged formerly,
and so to persuade him that everybody was jealous of his successes, his
genius and his position in South Africa, that it became relatively easy
with a man of Rhodes' character to make him smart under the sense of
non-appreciation. Thus goaded, Rhodes acted often without premeditation.
In contrast to this impatience and the sense of unsatisfied vanity, the
coolness and greatness of character of Sir Alfred Milner appeared in
strong contrast, even though many friends of earlier days, such as W.T.
Stead, had turned their backs upon Sir Alfred, accusing him of being the
cause of all the misfortunes which fell upon South Africa. But those who
thus condemned Sir Alfred did not understand the peculiar features of the
situation. He was credited with inspiring all the harsh measures which
were employed on occasion by others, measures which he had stridently
disapproved. Rhodes, in his place, would have killed somebody or destroyed
something; Sir Alfred went slowly on with his work, disdained praise as
well as blame, and looked toward the future. I leave it to the reader to
decide which of the two showed himself the better patriot.
The refugees did not take kindly to the High Commissioner. They had been
full of illusions concerning the help they fondly imagined he would be
glad to offer them, and when they discovered that, far from taking them to
his bosom, he discouraged their intention of remaining in Cape Town until
the end of the war, they grumbled and lied with freedom. Sir Alfred gave
them very distinctly to understand that they had better not rely on the
British Government to feed and clothe them. He said that they would be
well advised to try to find some work which would allow them to keep
themselves and their families. But especially he recommended them to go
back to Europe, which, he gravely assured the refugees, was the best place
for them and their talents. This did not please those refugees who posed
as martyrs of their English patriotism and as victims of the hatred of
Kruger and of the Dutch. They expected to be petted and flattered as those
looked up to as the saviours of the Empire.
All the foregoing applies to the middle-class section of the refugees. The
poorer ones grumbled also, but in a different manner, and their irritation
was rather directed towards the military authorities. As for the
millionaires, with a few exceptions they also did not care for the High
Commissioner for reasons elaborated in earlier pages of this volume. They
even considered that it would be prejudicial to their interests to allow
Rhodes to be upon too intimate terms with Sir Alfred Milner, so they kept
a faithful watch at Government House as well as at Groote Schuur, and in
doing so added to the tension which, up to the last moment of Sir Alfred's
tenure of office at Cape Town, existed between him and Cecil Rhodes. Too
courteous to tell his redoubtable adversary that he had better mind his
own business, convinced, on the other hand, of the latter's great
capacities and great patriotism, Sir Alfred was constantly doing all that
he could do in reason to pacify him. Cecil Rhodes used to make most bitter
and untrue remarks as to the stupidity of the Imperial Government at home
and the incapacity of the men in charge of its armies in South Africa. All
this was repeated right and left with the usual exaggeration, and reached,
as perhaps was intended, those whom it concerned. The result was that
Rhodes found himself tabooed at Pretoria. This he said was due to the
great fear which his influence over public opinion in South Africa
inspired among those in command there.
The big trouble with Rhodes was that he would never own himself in the
wrong. He quibbled, he hesitated, he postponed replies to questions
submitted for his consideration. He wearied everybody around him with his
constant prevarications in regard to facts he ought to have accepted
without flinching if he wanted to regain some of his lost prestige.
Unfortunately for himself and for the cause of peace in South Africa,
Rhodes fancied himself immensely clever at "biding his time," as he used
to say. He had ever lurking somewhere in his brain the conviction that one
day the whole situation at Cape Town and Pretoria would become so
entangled that they would have to send for him to beg him as a favour to
step round and by his magic touch unravel all difficulties. His curious
shyness, his ambition and his vanity battled with each other so long that
those in authority at last came to the sad conclusion that it was far
better to look elsewhere for support in their honest efforts at this
important moment in the existence of the African Continent.
One last attempt was made. It was backed up by people in London, among
others by Stead. Stead liked the Great Imperialist as well as one man can
like another, and had a great and justified confidence in Rhodes' good
heart as well as in that indefinable nobility which manifested itself at
times in his strange, wayward nature. Moreover, being gifted with a keen
sense of intuition, the famous journalist realised quite well the immense
work that might have been done by England through Rhodes had the latter
consented to sweep away those men around him who were self-interested.
But Rhodes preferred to maintain his waiting attitude, whilst trying at
the same time to accumulate as many proofs as possible that people wanted
him to assert himself at last. It was the fact that these proofs were
denied to him at the very minute when he imagined he held them already in
his hands which led to his suddenly turning once more against the persons
he had been almost on the point of propitiating. It led him to begin the
movement for the suspension of the Constitution in Cape Colony, out of
which he expected so much and which he intended to use as his principal
weapon against the enemies whom he suspected. That was the last great
political venture in his life; it failed, but merciful Providence allowed
him not to see the utter collapse of his latest house of cards.