CHAPTER I

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LORD MILNER'S WORK IN SOUTH AFRICA

FROM ITS COMMENCEMENT IN 1897 TO

THE PEACE OF VEREENIGING IN 1902

CONTAINING HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED INFORMATION

BY W. BASIL WORSFOLD

WITH PORTRAITS AND MAP

"What would have been the position to-day in South Africa if

there had not been a man prepared to take upon himself

responsibility; a man whom difficulties could not conquer, whom

disasters could not cow, and whom obloquy could never

move?"--LORD GOSCHEN _in the House of Lords, March 29th, 1906_

LONDON

JOHN MURRAY ALBEMARLE STREET W

1906

_This Edition enjoys copyright in all countries signatory to the Berne

Convention, as well as in the United Kingdom, Ireland, and all British

Colonies and Dependencies._

_Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._

PREFACE

In sending this book to press I have only two remarks to make by way

of preface.

The first is wholly personal. It has been my good fortune to reside

twice for a considerable period in South Africa--first in the

neighbourhood of Capetown (1883-5), and afterwards in Johannesburg

(1904-5). During these periods of residence, and also during the long

interval between them, I have been brought into personal contact with

many of the principal actors in the events which are related in this

book. While, therefore, no pains have been spared to secure accuracy

by a careful study of official papers and other reliable publications,

my information is not derived by any means exclusively from these

sources.

My second remark is the expression of a hope that the contents of this

book may be regarded not merely as a chapter of history, but also as a

body of facts essential to the full understanding of the circumstances

and conditions of South Africa, as it is to-day. Since the restoration

of peace--an event not yet five years old--a great change has been

wrought in the political and economic framework of this province of

the empire. None the less, with a few conspicuous exceptions, almost

all of the principal actors in these pages are still there; and,

presumably, they are very much the same men now as they were before,

and during, the war. And in this connection it remains to notice an

aspect of the South African struggle which transcends all others in

fruitfulness and importance. It was a struggle to keep South Africa

not a dependency of Great Britain, but a part of the empire. The

over-sea Britains, understanding it in this sense, took their share in

it. They made their voices heard in the settlement. The service which

they thus collectively performed was great. It would have been

infinitely greater if they had been directly represented in an

administration nominally common to them and the mother country. No

political system can be endowed with effective unity--with that

organic unity which is the only effective unity--unless it is

possessed of a single vehicle of thought and action. To create this

vehicle--an administrative body in which all parts of the empire would

be duly represented--is difficult to-day. The forces of disunion,

which are at work both at home and beyond the seas, may make it

impossible to-morrow.

W. B. W.

RIDGE, NEAR CAPEL, SURREY,

_October 19th, 1906_

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I Page

DOWNING STREET AND THE MAN ON THE SPOT.................. 1

CHAPTER II

THE CREED OF THE AFRIKANDER NATIONALISTS............... 48

CHAPTER III

A YEAR OF OBSERVATION.................................. 75

CHAPTER IV

UNDER WHICH FLAG?..................................... 130

CHAPTER V

PLAYING FOR TIME...................................... 188

CHAPTER VI

THE ULTIMATUM......................................... 253

CHAPTER VII

THE FALL OF THE REPUBLICS............................. 300

CHAPTER VIII

THE REBELLION IN THE CAPE COLONY...................... 341

CHAPTER IX

THE "CONCILIATION" MOVEMENT........................... 373

CHAPTER X

THE DISARMAMENT OF THE DUTCH POPULATION............... 413

CHAPTER XI

PREPARING FOR PEACE................................... 470

CHAPTER XII

THE SURRENDER OF VEREENIGING.......................... 536

INDEX................................................... 585

ILLUSTRATIONS

PORTRAIT OF LORD MILNER _Frontispiece_

_From a photograph by Elliott & Fry (Photogravure)_

FACING PAGE

LORD MILNER AT SUNNYSIDE.............................. 473

MAP OF SOUTH AFRICA........................... _At the End_

LORD MILNER

CHAPTER I

DOWNING STREET AND THE MAN ON THE SPOT

The failure of British administration in South Africa during the

nineteenth century forms a blemish upon the record of the Victorian

era that is at first sight difficult to understand. If success could

be won in Canada, Australia and New Zealand, in India and in Egypt,

why failure in South Africa? For failure it was. A century of wars,

missionary effort, British expansion, industrial development, of lofty

administrative ideals and great men sacrificed, had left the two

European races with political ambitions so antagonistic, and social

differences so bitter, that nothing less than the combined military

resources of the colonies and the mother-country sufficed to compel

the Dutch to recognise the British principle of "equal rights for all

white men south of the Zambesi." Among the many contributory causes of

failure that can be distinguished, the two most prominent are the

nationality difficulty and the native question. But these are problems

of administration that have been solved elsewhere: the former in

Canada and the latter in India. Or, to turn to agencies of a

different order, is the cause of failure to be found in a grudging

nature--the existence of physical conditions that made it difficult

for the white man, or for the white and coloured man together, to

wring a livelihood from the soil? The answer is that the like material

disadvantages have been conquered in Australia, India, and in Egypt,

by Anglo-Saxon energy. We might apply the Socratic method throughout,

traversing the entire range of our distinguishable causes; but in

every case the inquiry would reveal success in some other portion of

the Anglo-Saxon domain to darken failure in South Africa.

Nevertheless, in so far as any single influence can be assigned to

render intelligible a result brought about by many agencies, various

in themselves and operating from time to time in varying degrees, the

explanation is to be found in a little incident that happened in the

second year of the Dutch East India Company's settlement at the Cape

of Good Hope. The facts are preserved for us by the diary which

Commander Van Riebeck was ordered to keep for the information of his

employers. Under the date October 19th, 1653, we read that David

Janssen, a herdsman, was found lying dead of assegai wounds, inflicted

by the Beechranger Hottentots, while the cattle placed under his

charge were seen disappearing round the curve of the Lion's Head. The

theft had been successfully accomplished through the perfidy of a

certain "Harry," a Hottentot chief, who was living on terms of

friendship with the Dutch--a circumstance which was sufficiently

apparent from the fact that the raid was timed to take place at an

hour on Sunday morning when the whole of the little community, with

the exception of two sentinels and a second herdsman, were assembled

to hear a sermon from the "Sick-Comforter," Wylant. It was the first

conflict between the Dutch and the natives; for Van Riebeck had been

bidden, for various excellent reasons, to keep on good terms with the

Hottentots, and to treat them kindly. But the murder of a white man

was a serious matter. Kindness scarcely seemed to meet the case; and

so Van Riebeck applied to the Directors, the famous Chamber of

Seventeen, for definite instructions as to the course which he must

pursue.

[Sidenote: Van Riebeck's difficulty.]

He was told that only the actual murderer of David Janssen (if

apprehended) was to be put to death; that cattle equal in amount to

the cattle stolen were to be recovered, but only from the actual

robbers; and that "Harry," if necessary, should be sent to prison at

Batavia. But he was not otherwise to molest or injure the offending

Hottentots. Excellent advice, and such as we should expect from the

countrymen of Grotius in their most prosperous era. But unfortunately

it was quite impossible for Van Riebeck, with his handful of soldiers

and sailors, planted at the extremity of the great barbaric continent

of Africa, to think of putting it into effect. He replied that he had

no means of identifying the individual wrong-doers, and that the

institution of private property was unknown among the Hottentots. The

only method by which the individual could be punished was by punishing

the tribe, and he therefore proposed to capture the tribe and their

cattle. But this was a course of action which was repugnant to the

Directors' sense of justice. It aroused, besides, a vision of

reinforcements ordered from Batavia, and of disbursements quite

disproportionate to the practical utility of the Cape station as an

item in the system of the Company. In vain Van Riebeck urged that a

large body of slaves and ten or twelve hundred head of cattle would be

a great addition to the resources of the settlement. The Chamber of

Seventeen refused to sanction the proposals of the commander, and, as

its own were impracticable, nothing was done. The Beechranger tribe

escaped with impunity, and the Hottentots, as a whole, were emboldened

to make fresh attacks upon the European settlers.

[Sidenote: The Afrikander stock.]

This simple narrative is a lantern that sheds a ray of light upon an

obscure subject. Two points are noticeable in the attitude of the home

authority. First, there is its inability to grasp the local

conditions; and second, the underlying assumption that a moral

judgment based upon the conditions of the home country, if valid, must

be equally valid in South Africa. By the time that the home authority

had become Downing Street instead of the peripatetic Chamber of

Seventeen, the field of mischievous action over which these

misconceptions operated had become enlarged. The natives were there,

as before; but, in addition to the natives, there had grown up a

population of European descent, some thirty thousand in number, whose

manner of life and standards of thought and conduct were scarcely more

intelligible to the British, or indeed to the European mind, than

those of the yellow-skinned Hottentot or the brown-skinned Kafir. A

century and a half of the Dutch East India Company's government--a

government "in all things political purely despotic, in all things

commercial purely monopolist"--had produced a people unlike any other

European community on the face of the earth. Of the small original

stock from which the South African Dutch are descended, one-quarter

were Huguenot refugees from France, an appreciable section were

German, and the institution of slavery had added to this admixture the

inevitable strain of non-Aryan blood. But this racial change was by no

means all that separated the European population in the Cape Colony

from the Dutch of Holland. A more potent agency had been at work. The

corner-stone of the policy of the Dutch East India Company was the

determination to debar the settlers from all intercourse--social,

intellectual, commercial, and political--with their kinsmen in Europe.

One fact will suffice to show how perfectly this object was attained.

Incredible as it may seem, it is the case that at the end of the

eighteenth century no printing-press was to be found in the Cape

Colony, nor had this community of twenty thousand Europeans the means

of knowing the nature of the laws and regulations of the Government by

which it was ruled. So long and complete an isolation from European

civilisation produced a result which is as remarkable in itself as it

is significant to the student of South African history. This

phenomenon was the existence, in the nineteenth century, of a

community of European blood whose moral and intellectual standards

were those of the seventeenth.

[Sidenote: The nationality difficulty.]

Our dip into the early history of South Africa is not purposeless. It

does not, of course, explain the failure of British administration;

but it brings us into touch with circumstances that were bound to make

the task of governing the Cape Colony--a task finally undertaken by

England in 1806--one of peculiar difficulty. The native population was

strange, but the European population was even more strange and

abnormal. If we had been left to deal with the native population alone

we should have experienced no serious difficulty in rendering them

harmless neighbours, and have been able to choose our own time for

entering upon the responsibilities involved in the administration of

their territories. But, coming second on the field, we were bound to

modify our native policy to suit the conditions of a preexisting

relationship between the white and black races that was not of our

creation, and one, moreover, that was in many respects repugnant to

British ideas of justice. Nor was this all. The old European

population, which should have been, naturally, our ally and

fellow-worker in the task of native administration, gradually changed

from its original position of a subject nationality to that of a

political rival; and, as such, openly bid against us for the

mastership of the native African tribes.

Now when two statesmen are pitted against each other, of whom one is a

man whose methods of attack are limited by nineteenth-century ideas,

while the morality of the other, being that of the seventeenth

century, permits him greater freedom of action, it is obvious that the

first will be at a disadvantage. And this would be the case more than

ever if the nineteenth-century statesman was under the impression that

his political antagonist was a man whose code of morals was identical

with his own. When once he had learnt that the moral standard of the

other was lower than, or different from, his own, he would of course

make allowance for the circumstance, and he would then be able to

contest the position with him upon equal terms. But until he had

grasped this fact he would be at a disadvantage.

Generally speaking, the representatives of the British Government,

both Governors and High Commissioners, soon learnt that neither the

natives nor the Dutch population could be dealt with on the same

footing as a Western European. But the British Government cannot be

said to have thoroughly learnt the same lesson until, in almost the

last week of the nineteenth century, the three successive defeats of

Stormberg, Magersfontein, and Colenso aroused it to a knowledge of the

fact that we had been within an ace of losing South Africa. Many,

indeed, would question whether even now the lesson had been thoroughly

learnt. But, however this may be, it is certain that throughout the

nineteenth century the Home Government wished to treat both the

natives and the Dutch in South Africa on a basis of British ideas; and

that by so doing it constantly found itself in conflict with its own

local representatives, who knew that the only hope of success lay in

dealing with both alike on a basis of South African ideas.

As the result of this chronic inability of British statesmen to

understand South Africa, it follows that the most instructive manner

of regarding our administration of that country during the nineteenth

century is to get a clear conception of the successive divergences of

opinion between the home and the local authorities.

At the very outset of British administration--during the temporary

occupation of the Cape from 1795 to 1808--we find a theoretically

perfect policy laid down for the guidance of the early English

Governors in their treatment of the Boers, or Dutch frontier farmers.

It is just as admirable, in its way, as were the instructions for the

treatment of the Hottentots furnished by the Directors of the Dutch

East India Company to Van Riebeck. In a despatch of July, 1800, the

third Duke of Portland, who was then acting as Secretary for the

Colonies, writes:

[Sidenote: Non-interference.]

"Considering the tract of country over which these border

inhabitants are dispersed, the rude and uncultivated state in

which they live, and the wild notions of independence which

prevail among them, I am afraid any attempts to introduce

civilisation and a strict administration of justice will be slow

in their progress, and likely, if not proceeded upon with caution

and management, rather to create a spirit of resistance, or to

occasion them to emigrate still further from the seat of

government, than answer the beneficent views with which they

might be undertaken. In fact, it seems to me the proper system of

policy to observe to them is to interfere as little as possible

in their domestic concerns and interior economy; to consider them

rather as distant communities dependent upon the Government than

as subjects necessarily amenable to the laws and regulations

established within the precincts of Government. Mutual advantages

arising from barter and commerce, and a strict adherence to good

faith and justice in all arrangements with them, joined to

efficient protection and occasional acts of kindness on the part

of the Government, seem likely to be the best means of securing

their attachment."

Who would have thought that this statement of policy, admirable as it is

at first sight, contained in itself the germ of a political heresy of

the first magnitude? Yet so it was. The principle of non-interference,

here for the first time enunciated and subsequently followed with fatal

effect, could not be applied by a nineteenth-century administration to

the case of a seventeenth-century community without its virtually

renouncing the functions of government. Obviously this was not the

intention of the home authority. There remained the difficulty of

knowing when to apply, and when not to apply, the principle; and

directly a specific case arose there was the possibility that, while the

local authority, with a full knowledge of the local conditions, might

think interference necessary, the home authority, without such

knowledge, might take an opposite view.

[Sidenote: Slaghter's Nek.]

A very few years sufficed to show that the most ordinary exercise of

the functions of government might be regarded as an "interference with

the domestic concerns and interior economy" of the European subjects

of the British Crown in South Africa. At the time of the permanent

occupation of the Cape (1806) the population of the colony consisted

of three classes: 26,720 persons of European descent, 17,657

Hottentots, and 29,256 returned as slaves. One of the first measures

of the British Governor, Lord Caledon, was the enactment of a series

of regulations intended to confer civil rights on the Hottentots,

while at the same time preventing them from using their freedom at the

expense of the European population. From the British, or even

European point of view, this was a piece of elementary justice to

which no man could possibly take exception. As applied to the

conditions of the Franco-Dutch population in the Cape Colony it was,

in fact, a serious interference with their "domestic concerns and

internal economy." And as such it produced the extraordinary protest

known to history as the "Rebellion" of Slaghter's Nek. There was no

question as to the facts. Booy, the Hottentot, had completed his term

of service with Frederick Bezuidenhout, the Boer, and was therefore

entitled, under the Cape law, to leave his master's farm, and to

remove his property. All this Bezuidenhout admitted; but when it came

to a question of yielding obedience to the magistrate's order, the

Boer said "No." In the words of Pringle, "He boldly declared that he

considered this interference between him (a free burgher) and _his_

Hottentot to be a presumptuous innovation upon his rights, and an

intolerable usurpation of tyrannical authority."

And the danger of allowing the Boers to pursue their

seventeenth-century dealings with the natives became rapidly greater

when the European Colonists, Dutch and English, were brought, by their

natural eastward expansion, into direct contact with the masses of

military Bantu south and east of the Drakenberg chain of

mountains--the actual dark-skinned "natives" of South Africa as it is

known to the people of Great Britain. The Boer frontiersman, with his

aggressive habits and ingrained contempt for a dark-skin,

disintegrated the Bantu mass before we were ready to undertake the

work of reconstruction. And therefore the local British authority soon

learnt that non-interference in the case of the Boer generally meant

the necessity of a much more serious interference at a subsequent date

with both Boer and Kafir. And so non-interference, in the admirable

spirit of the Duke of Portland's despatch, came to bear one meaning in

Downing Street and quite another in Capetown.

[Sidenote: D'Urban's policy.]

The earliest of the three crucial "divergences of opinion," to which

collectively the history of our South African administration owes its

sombre hue, was that which led to the reversal of Sir Benjamin

D'Urban's frontier policy by Charles Grant (afterwards Lord Glenelg)

at the end of the year 1835. The circumstances were these. On

Christmas Day, 1834, the Kafirs (without any declaration of war,

needless to say) invaded the Cape Colony, murdering the settlers in

the isolated farms, burning their homesteads, and driving off their

cattle. After a six months' campaign, in which the Dutch and British

settlers fought by the side of the regular troops, a treaty was made

with the Kafir chiefs which, in the opinion of D'Urban and his local

advisers, would render the eastern frontier of the Colony secure from

further inroads. The Kafirs were to retire to the line of the Kei

River, thus surrendering part of their territory to the European

settlers who had suffered most severely from the invasion; while a

belt of loyal Kafirs, supported by a chain of forts, was to be

interposed between the defeated tribes and the colonial farmsteads. In

addition to these measures, D'Urban proposed to compensate the

settlers for the enormous losses[1] which they had incurred; since, as

a contemporary and not unfriendly writer[2] puts it, the British

Government had exposed them for fourteen years to Kafir depredations,

rather than acknowledge the existence of a state of affairs that must

plainly have compelled it to make active exertions for their

protection.

[Footnote 1: The official returns showed that 456 farm-houses

had been wholly, and 350 partially, destroyed; and that 60

waggons, 5,715 horses, 111,930 head of horned cattle, and

161,930 sheep had been carried off by the Kafirs. And this

apart from the remuneration claimed by the settlers for

services in the field, and commandeered cattle and supplies.]

[Footnote 2: Cloete. See note, p. 16.]

The view of the home authority was very different. In the opinion of

His Majesty's ministers at Downing Street the Kafir invasion was the

result of a long series of unjustifiable encroachments on the part of

the European settlers. D'Urban was instructed, therefore, to reinstate

the Kafirs in the districts from which they had retired under the

treaty of September, 1835, and to cancel all grants of land beyond the

Fish River--the original eastern boundary of the Colony--which the

Colonial Government had made to its European subjects from 1817

onwards; while, as for compensation, any indemnity was altogether out

of the question, since the colonists had only themselves to thank for

the enmity of the natives--if, indeed, they had not deliberately

provoked the war with a view to the acquisition of fresh territory.

The divergence between these two opinions is sufficiently well marked.

To trace the precise agencies through which two diametrically opposed

views were evolved on this occasion from the same groundwork of facts

would be too lengthy a business; but, by way of comment, we may recall

two statements, each significant and authentic. Cloete, writing while

the events in question were still fresh in his mind, says of Lord

Glenelg's despatch: "A communication more cruel, unjust, and insulting

to the feelings not only of Sir Benjamin D'Urban ... but of the

inhabitants ... could hardly have been penned by a declared enemy of

the country and its Governor." And Sir George Napier, by whom D'Urban

was superseded, stated in evidence given before the House of Commons:

"My own experience, and what I saw with my own eyes, have confirmed me

that I was wrong and Sir Benjamin D'Urban was perfectly right; that if

he meant to keep Kafirland under British rule, the only way of doing

so was by having a line of forts, and maintaining troops in them."

[Sidenote: The Great Trek.]

This settlement of a South African question upon a basis of British,

or rather non-South African, ideas was followed by events as notorious

as they were disastrous. It must be remembered that in 1819-20 the

first and only effort to introduce a considerable British population

into South Africa had been successfully carried out when the "Albany"

settlers, to the number of some five thousand, were established in

this and other districts upon the eastern border of the Cape Colony.

The colonial farmers who suffered from the Kafir invasion of 1834-5

were not exclusively Boers. Among them there were many members of the

new British population, and the divergence of opinion between D'Urban

and Lord Glenelg was all the more significant, since in this case the

British settlers were in agreement with the Boers. It was no longer

merely a divergence of views as between the local and the home

authority, but as between the British in Britain and the British in

South Africa. It must also be remembered that, in the same year as the

Kafir invasion, a social revolution--the emancipation of slaves--had

been accomplished in the Cape Colony by an Act of the British

Parliament, in comparison with which the nationalisation of the

railways or of the mines in England would seem a comparatively

trifling disturbance of the system of private property to the

Englishman of to-day. The reversal of D'Urban's arrangements for the

safety of the eastern frontier was not only bad in itself, but it came

at a bad time. Whether the secession of the Emigrant Farmers would in

any case have taken place as the result of the emancipation of slaves

is a matter which cannot now be decided. But, however this may be, the

fact remains that two men so well qualified to give an opinion on the

subject as Judge Cloete and Sir John Robinson, the first Prime

Minister of Natal, unhesitatingly ascribe the determining influence

which drove the Boers to seek a home beyond the jurisdiction of the

British Government to the sense of injustice created by the measures

dictated by Lord Glenelg, and by the whole spirit of his despatch.[3]

And this judgment is supported by the fact that the wealthier Dutch of

the Western Province were much more seriously affected by the

emancipation of slaves than the "Boers" of the eastern districts of

the Colony; yet it was these latter, of course, who provided the bulk

of the emigrants who crossed the Orange River in the years of the

Great Trek (1835-8) We shall not therefore be drawing an extravagantly

improbable conclusion, if we decide that the movement which divided

European South Africa was due to a well-ascertained divergence of

opinion between the home and local authorities--both British.

[Footnote 3: For the benefit of those who may desire to read

the passages in which these opinions are expressed, I append

the references. Cloete's opinion is to be found in his "Five

Lectures on the Emigration of the Dutch Farmers," delivered

before the Natal Society and published at Capetown in 1856. A

reprint of this work was published by Mr. Murray in 1899. Sir

John Robinson's opinion, which endorses the views of Mrs.

Anna Elizabeth Steenekamp as expressed in _The Cape Monthly

Magazine_ for September, 1876, is to be found at pp. 46, 47

of his "A Lifetime in South Africa" (Smith, Elder, 1900).]

[Sidenote: The birth of the republic.]

[Sidenote: Sir George Grey.]

The results of this secession of something like one-fourth of the

Franco-Dutch population are common knowledge. Out of the scattered

settlements founded by the Emigrant Farmers beyond the borders of the

Colony were created, in 1852 (Sand River Convention) and 1854

(Bloemfontein Convention), the two Boer Republics, which half a century

later withstood for two years and eight months the whole available

military force of the British Empire. The first effect of the secession

was to erect the republican Dutch into a rival power which bid against

the British Government for the territory and allegiance of the natives.

Secession, therefore, made the inevitable task of establishing the

supremacy of the white man in South Africa infinitely more costly both

in blood and treasure. The British nation accepted the task, which fell

to it as paramount power, with the greatest reluctance. The endless and

apparently aimless Kafir wars exhausted the patience of the country, and

the destruction of an entire British regiment by Ketshwayo's[4] _impis_

created a feeling of deep resentment against the great High

Commissioner, whose policy was held--unreasonably enough--responsible

for the military disaster of Isandlhwana. Two opportunities of

recovering the lost solidarity of the Europeans were presented before

the republican Dutch had set themselves definitely to work for the

supremacy of South Africa through reunion with their colonial kinsfolk.

That both were lost was due at bottom to the disgust of the British

people at the excessive cost and burden of establishing a civilised

administration over the native population in South Africa. But in both

cases the immediate agency of disaster was the refusal of the Home

Government to listen to the advice of its local representative. Sir

George Grey would have regained the lost solidarity of the Europeans by

taking advantage of the natural recoil manifested among the Free State

Dutch from independence and responsibility towards the more settled and

prosperous life assured by British rule. His proposal was to unite the

Cape Colony, Natal, and the Free State in a federal legislature,

consisting of representatives chosen by popular vote in the several

states. In urging this measure he took occasion to combat the

pessimistic views of South African affairs which were prevalent in

England. The country was not commercially useless, but of "great and

increasing value." Its people did not desire Kafir wars, but were well

aware of the much greater advantages which they derived from the

peaceful pursuits of industry. The colonists were themselves willing to

contribute to the defence of that part of the Queen's dominions in which

they lived. And, finally, the condition of the natives was not hopeless,

for the missionaries were producing most beneficial effects upon the

tribes of the interior. But the most powerful argument which Grey used

was his ruthless exposure of the futility of the Conventions. By

allowing the Boer emigrants to grow into independent communities the

British Government believed that not only had they relieved themselves

of responsibility for the republican Dutch, but that they had secured,

in addition, the unfaltering allegiance of the larger Dutch population

which remained behind in the Cape Colony. Grey assured the Home

Government that in both respects it was the victim of a delusion bred of

its complete ignorance of South African conditions. The Boer Republics

would give trouble. Apart from the bad draftsmanship of the

conventions--a fertile source of disagreement--these small states would

be centres of intrigue and "internal commotions," while at the same time

their revenues would be too small to provide efficiently for their

protection against the warlike tribes. The policy of _divide et

impera_--or, as Grey called it, the "dismemberment" policy--would fail,

since the political barrier which had been erected was wholly

artificial.

[Footnote 4: Cetewayo.]

"Although these European countries are treated as separate

nations," he wrote, "their inhabitants bear the same family names

as the inhabitants of this Colony, and maintain with them ties of

the closest intimacy and relationship. They speak generally the

same language--not English, but Dutch. They are for the most part

of the same religion, belonging to the Dutch Reformed Church.

They have the same laws--the Roman Dutch. They have the same

sympathies, the same prejudices, the same habits, and frequently

the same feelings regarding the native races....

"I think that there can be no doubt that, in any great public, or

popular, or national question or movement, the mere fact of

calling these people different nations would not make them so,

nor would the fact of a mere fordable stream running between them

sever their sympathies or prevent them from acting in unison....

Many questions might arise in which, if the Government on the

south side of the Orange River took a different view from that on

the north side of the river, it might be very doubtful which of

the two Governments the great mass of the people would obey."[5]

[Footnote 5: Despatch of November 19th, 1858, to Sir E. B.

Lytton.]

The "divergence of opinion" between Capetown and Downing Street was

complete. Grey was charged with "direct disobedience" for listening to

the offers of the Free State inhabitants. Recalled by a despatch of

June 4th, 1859, he was reinstated in August on condition that "he felt

himself sufficiently free and uncompromised," both with the Cape

Legislature and the people of the Free State, to be able personally to

carry out the policy of the Home Government, which, said the despatch,

"is entirely opposed to those measures, tending to the resumption

of sovereignty over that State, of which you have publicly

expressed your approval in your speech to the Cape Parliament,

and in your answers to the address from the State in question."

Nor was that all. In his endeavours to establish a simple but

effective system of European magistrates over the Kafirs beyond the

eastern border of the Colony, he was hampered by the short-sighted

economy of the Home Government. It seems incredible that a Colonial

Governor, even at that epoch, should have been looked upon by Downing

Street as a sort of importunate mendicant. But Grey's language shows

that this was the attitude against which he had to defend himself.

[Sidenote: The burden of the empire.]

"I would now only urge upon Her Majesty's Government," he writes

on September 8th, 1858, "that they should not distress me more

than is absolutely necessary for the government and control of

the people of the country which lies beyond the Colony of the

Cape of Good Hope. Stripping the country as I am of troops [to

serve in putting down the Indian Mutiny], some great disaster

will take place if necessary funds are at the same time cut off

from me. I am sure, if the enormous reductions I have effected in

military expenditure are considered, the most rigid economists

will feel that the money paid by Great Britain for the control of

this country has been advantageously laid out."

These extracts are not pleasant reading. They were written at the time

when the Imperial spirit was at its nadir. In the plain language of

the Secretary of State for the Colonies[6] in 1858, it was a time when

ministers were "compelled to recognise as fact the increased and

increasing dislike of Parliament to the maintenance of large military

establishments in our colonies at Imperial cost." Yet one more passage

must be cited, not so much because it is tinged by a certain grim

humour--although this is a valuable quality in such a context--as

because it affords an eminently pertinent illustration in support of

the contention that the refusal of the Home Government to follow the

advice of the "man on the spot" has been the operative cause of the

failure of British administration in South Africa. The reply to the

charge of "direct disobedience," which Grey formulates in one

leisurely sentence, runs as follows:

[Footnote 6: Sir E. B. Lytton.]

"With regard to any necessity which might exist for my removal on

the ground of not holding the same views upon essential points of

policy as Her Majesty's Government hold, I can only make the

general remark that, during the five years which have elapsed

since I was appointed to my present office, there have been at

least seven Secretaries of State for the Colonial Department,

each of whom held different views upon some important points of

policy connected with this country."

[Sidenote: The discovery of diamonds.]

Grey was not by any means the only Governor of the Cape to show the

home authorities how impossible it was to govern South Africa from

Downing Street, and to urge upon them the necessity of allowing their

representative, the one man who was familiar with local conditions, to

decide by what methods the objects of British policy could be most

effectively advanced. But it was not until some considerable time

after the Colonial Department had been placed under a separate

Secretary of State, and the Colonial Office had been constituted on

its present basis, with a staff of permanent officials, that these

protests produced any appreciable effect. What really aroused an

interest in South Africa--that is to say a practical interest, as

distinct from the interest created by the stories of missionary

enterprise and travel, and by the records of Kafir warfare--was the

discovery of diamonds in Griqualand West in 1870, and the subsequent

establishment of the diamond industry at Kimberley. It was the first

time that anything certain had occurred to show that the vast

"hinterland" of the Cape might prove to be a territory of industrial

possibilities. The earnings of the diamond mines provided the Cape

Colony with a revenue sufficient to enable it to link together its

main towns by a tolerable railway system. The industry, once

established, attracted British capital and British population, and by

so doing it did what Blue-books and missionary reports had failed to

do: it brought the every-day life of the British Colonist in South

Africa within the purview of the nation. Thanks to the Kimberley mines

the Cape ceased to be thought of as a country whose resources were

exclusively pastoral and agricultural.

The epoch of the next great divergence of opinion was a more hopeful

time from an Imperialist point of view. Lord Beaconsfield, who was the

first statesman to give practical expression to the belief that the

maintenance of empire was not inconsistent with the welfare of the

masses of the home population, was in power. British statesmen, and

the class from which British statesmen are drawn, had begun to study

Colonial questions in a more hopeful and intelligent spirit. Something

had been learnt, too, of the actual conditions of South Africa. And

yet it was at this epoch that what was, perhaps, the most ruinous of

all the divergences of opinion between Capetown and Downing Street

occurred.

[Sidenote: Sir Bartle Frere.]

When Sir Bartle Frere was sent out to South Africa to carry out a

definite scheme for the union of the Republics with the British

colonies in a federal system, British statesmen and the educated

classes in general had adopted the views expressed by Grey twenty

years before. Tardily they had learnt to recognise both the essential

unity of the Dutch population and the value of the country as an

industrial asset of the empire. But, in the meantime, the centre of

political power had shifted in England. The extension of the franchise

had placed the ultimate control of British policy in South Africa in

the hands of a class of electors who were, as yet, wholly uneducated

in the political and economic conditions of that country. The

divergence of opinion between the home and the local authority became

in this case wider than ever. In short, it was the will of the nation

that caused Frere to be arrested midway in the accomplishment of his

task, and gave a mandate in 1880 to the Liberal party to administer

South Africa upon the lines of a policy shaped in contemptuous

indifference of the profoundest convictions and most solemn warnings

of a great proconsul and most loyal servant of the Crown.

The facts of Frere's supersession and recall are notorious: the story

is too recent to need telling at length. We know now that, apart from

the actual discovery of the Witwatersrand gold-mines, all that he

foresaw and foretold has been realised in the events which culminated,

twenty years later, in the great South African War. The military power

which at that time (1877-80) stood in the way of South African unity

under the British flag was the Zulu people. The whole adult male

population of the tribe had been trained for war, and organised by

Ketshwayo into a fighting machine. With this formidable military

instrument at his command Ketshwayo proposed to emulate the sanguinary

career of conquest pursued by his grandfather Tshaka;[7] and he had

prepared the way for the half-subdued military Bantu throughout South

Africa to co-operate with him in a general revolt against the growing

supremacy of the white man. Frere removed this obstacle. But in doing

so he, or rather the general entrusted with the command of the

military operations, lost a British regiment at Isandlhwana. This

revelation of the strength of the Zulu army was, in fact, a complete

confirmation of the correctness of Frere's diagnosis of the South

African situation. His contention was that England must give evidence

of both her capacity and her intention to control the native

population of South Africa before she could reasonably ask the

republican Dutch to surrender their independence and reunite with the

British colonies in a federal system under the British flag. A native

power, organised solely for aggressive warfare against one of two

possible white neighbours, constituted therefore, in his opinion, not

only a perpetual menace to the safety of Natal, but an insuperable

obstacle to the effective discharge of a duty by the paramount Power,

the successful performance of which was a condition precedent to the

reunion of the European communities. The only point in dispute was the

question whether the powers of Ketshwayo's _impis_ had been

exaggerated. To this question the disaster of Isandlhwana returned an

emphatic "No."

[Footnote 7: Chaka.]

[Sidenote: The recall of Frere.]

The divergence of opinion between Frere and Lord Beaconsfield's

cabinet was trivial as compared with the profound gulf which separated

his policy from the South African policy of Mr. Gladstone. After the

return of the Liberal party to power in the spring of 1880, Frere was

allowed to remain in office until August 1st, when he was recalled by

a telegraphic despatch. But, as Lord Kimberley pointed out to him,

there had been "so much divergence" between his views and those of the

Home Government that he would not have been allowed to remain at the

Cape, "had it not been for the special reason that there was a

prospect of his being able materially to forward the policy of

confederation." This prospect, of course, had then been removed by the

failure of the Cape Government, on June 29th, to bring about the

conference of delegates from the several States, which was the initial

step towards the realisation of Lord Carnarvon's scheme of federal

union.

The vindication of Frere's statesmanship has been carried, by the

inexorable logic of events, far beyond the sphere of Blue-book

arguments. But it is impossible to read this smug despatch without

recalling the words which Mr. Krueger wrote to Mr. (now Lord) Courtney

on June 26th of the same year: "The fall of Sir Bartle Frere will ...

be useful.... We have done our duty and used all legitimate influence

to cause the conference proposals to fail." That is to say, it was

known to these faithful confederates of that section of the Liberal

party of which Mr. Courtney was the head, that the Gladstone

Government had determined to recall Sir Bartle Frere three days before

"the special reason" for maintaining him at the Cape had disappeared.

[Sidenote: Frere's forecast.]

But what we are really concerned with is the nature of the opinions

upon the central question of South African administration which Frere

put forward at this critical period. With these before us, the most

elementary acquaintance with the events of the last ten years will

suffice to indicate the profound degree in which his knowledge of

South African conditions surpassed the knowledge of those who took

upon themselves to reverse his policy. What, above all, Frere realised

was, that a point had been reached at which the whole of South Africa

must be gathered under the British flag without delay. He had noted

the disintegrating influences at work in the Cape Colony and the

strength of the potential antagonism of the republican Dutch. The

annexation of the Transvaal was not his deed, nor did either the time

or the manner in which it was done command his approval. But he

asserted that British rule, once established there, must be maintained

at all costs. With this end in view, he urged that every

responsibility incurred by England in the act of annexation must be

fulfilled to the letter. Utilising the information which he had gained

by personal observation during his visit to the Transvaal in 1879, and

availing himself of the co-operation of President Brand, of the Free

State, and Chief Justice de Villiers, in the Cape Colony, he drafted a

scheme of administrative reform sufficient to satisfy the legitimate

aspirations of the Boers for self-government without endangering the

permanency of British rule. It included proposals for administrative

and financial reforms framed with a view of reducing the cost of

government to the lowest point consistent with efficiency, for the

reorganisation of the courts of law, for the survey of the proposed

railway line to Delagoa Bay, and full details of a system of

representative government. This measure he urged upon the Colonial

Office as one of immediate necessity, since it embodied the fulfilment

of the definite promises of an early grant of self-government made to

the Boers at the time of annexation.[8]

[Footnote 8: The receipt of the despatch in which these

valuable recommendations were made was not even acknowledged

by the Colonial Office. Frere himself gives the outlines of

his proposals in an article published in _The Nineteenth

Century_ for February, 1881.]

He recognised the value of Delagoa Bay as an essential factor in the

political and commercial system of a united South Africa, and he

earnestly recommended its acquisition by purchase from the Portuguese

Government. His perception of the extreme importance of satisfying all

legitimate claims of the Boers, and his acute realisation of the

danger of allowing the Transvaal to become a "jumping-off ground"

either for foreign powers or Afrikander Nationalists, are exhibited in

due relationship in a private memorandum which he wrote from the Cape

at the end of July, 1879:

"Any reliance on mere force in the Transvaal must react

dangerously down here in the old colony, and convert the Dutch

Country party, now as loyal and prosperous a section of the

population as any under the Crown, into dangerous allies of the

small anti-English Republican party, who are for separation, thus

paralysing the efforts of the loyal English party now in power,

who aim at making the country a self-defending integral portion

of the British Empire. Further, any attempt to give back or

restore the Boer Republic in the Transvaal must lead to anarchy

and failure, and probably, at no distant period, to a vicious

imitation of some South American Republics, in which the more

uneducated and misguided Boers, dominated and led by better

educated foreign adventurers--Germans, Hollanders, Irish Home

Rulers, and other European Republicans and Socialists--will

become a pest to the whole of South Africa, and a most dangerous

fulcrum to any European Power bent on contesting our naval

supremacy, or injuring us in our colonies.

"There is no escaping from the responsibility which has already

been incurred, ever since the British flag was planted on the

Castle here. All our real difficulties have arisen, and still

arise, from attempting to evade or shift this responsibility....

If you abdicate the sovereign position, the abdication has always

to be heavily paid for in both blood and treasure.... Your object

is not conquest, but simply supremacy up to Delagoa Bay. This

will have to be asserted some day, and the assertion will not

become easier by delay. The trial of strength will be forced on

you, and neither justice nor humanity will be served by

postponing the trial if we start with a good cause."

Could not the man who foresaw these dangers have prevented them? It is

impossible to resist the momentum of this thought.

[Sidenote: The retrocession.]

The events by which this forecast was so closely realised are not

likely to be effaced from the memory of this generation. Frere had

scarcely left the Colony from which he had been recalled by the joint

efforts of Mr. Krueger and Lord (then Mr.) Courtney before the former,

with his fellow triumvirs, had raised the Vier-kleur upon the still

desolate uplands of the Witwatersrand. The attempt to put down by

force the Boer revolt of 1880-81 failed. Mr. Gladstone's cabinet

recoiled before the prospect of a war in which the Boers might have

been supported by their kinsmen in the Free State and the Cape Colony.

The retrocession of the Transvaal under the terms of the Pretoria

Convention (1881) was followed by further concessions embodied in the

London Convention of 1884. It is absolutely established as fact that

Mr. Gladstone's Government intended, by certain articles contained in

both conventions, to secure to all actual and potential British

residents in the Transvaal the enjoyment of all the political rights

of citizenship possessed by the Boers. But it is equally certain that

the immediate contravention of Article XVI. of the Pretoria

Convention, when in 1882 the period of residence necessary to qualify

for the franchise was raised from two to five years, was allowed to

pass without protest from the Imperial Government. And thus a breach

of the Convention, which the discovery of the Witwatersrand

gold-fields (1886) and the subsequent establishment of a great British

industrial community made a matter of vital importance, was condoned.

A few years more and the country which prided itself upon being the

home of liberty and of free institutions was confounded by the

spectacle of a South Africa of its own making, in which a British

majority denied the franchise in a Dutch Republic, contrasted with a

Dutch minority dominating and controlling the machinery of responsible

government in a British colony.

This situation brings us (to use a military phrase) within striking

distance of the objective of the present work--the personality and

efforts of the man who administered South Africa in the momentous

years of the struggle for equal rights for all white men from the

Zambesi to Capetown.

If the records set out in the preceding pages leave any impression

upon the mind, it is one that must produce a sense of amazement,

almost exasperation, at the thought of the many mistakes and disasters

that might have been avoided, if only greater weight had been attached

to the advice tendered to the British Government by its local

representative in South Africa. And with this sense of amazement a

generous mind will associate inevitably a feeling of regret for the

injustice unwittingly, but none the less irreparably, inflicted upon

loyal and capable servants of the Crown--an injustice so notorious

that it has made South Africa the "grave of reputations." Apart from

the pre-eminence with which the period of Lord Milner's administration

is invested by the occurrence within it of a military conflict of

unparalleled magnitude, Lord Milner stands out in the annals of South

Africa as the first High Commissioner whose knowledge of South African

conditions was allowed to inspire the policy of the Home Government,

and who himself was recognised by the Government and people of Great

Britain as voicing the convictions and aspirations of all loyal

subjects of the Crown in that province of the empire.

The state of affairs with which Lord Milner was called upon to deal

was in its essence the situation sketched by Frere twenty years before

in the memorable forecast to which reference has been made. But the

working of the forces indicated by Frere as destined, if unchecked, to

drive England one day to a life-and-death struggle for her supremacy

in South Africa, had been complicated by an event which cannot be

omitted altogether from a chapter intended, like a Euripidean

prologue, to prepare the mind of the spectator for the proper

understanding of the characters and action of the drama. This event is

the Jameson Raid.

[Sidenote: The Jameson raid.]

[Sidenote: Rhodes.]

In order to see the Jameson Raid in its true perspective, it is not

sufficient to place it in relationship to those familiar and notorious

events by which it was followed. It must also be placed in relationship

to the no less clearly defined events by which it was preceded. Thus

placed it becomes the direct outcome of the refusal of the Imperial

Government to use the advice of its local representative--or, more

precisely, of the refusal to base its policy on South African instead

of British conditions: and, as such, it convinced the Imperial

Government of the need of reviving the power of its local

representative. In other words, it is a connecting link between the High

Commissionerships of Frere and Milner. The events which followed the

recall of Frere were accepted by the British inhabitants of South Africa

as a practical demonstration of the inherent viciousness of the system

under which the decision of cardinal questions of South African

administration was left in the hands of the House of Commons, a body in

which they were not represented; which met 6,000 miles away; whose

judgment was liable to be warped by irrelevant considerations of English

party politics; and one which was admittedly unfamiliar with the country

and peoples whose interests were vitally affected by the manner in which

these questions were decided. The lesson of the retrocession was taken

to heart so earnestly that, fifteen years later, the majority of the

British residents in the Transvaal refused to support a movement for

reform which involved the re-establishment of Imperial authority, while

among those who were loyal to the British connection throughout South

Africa its effect was to make them think, as did Rhodes, that the

machinery of the various local British governments must be dissociated

as much as possible from the principles and methods of the Home

Government. Hence the necessity for what Rhodes called the "elimination

of the Imperial factor." The expression, as he afterwards explained,

was in no way inconsistent with attachment to the British connection. As

read in the context in which it was originally used, it meant merely

that the European population of Bechuanaland,[9] being mainly Boer

immigrants, could be administered more successfully by officers

responsible to a government which, like that of the Cape Colony, was

well versed in South African conditions, than by officers directly

responsible to the Imperial Government. The phrase was a criticism of

Downing Street, and still more of English party government. In short,

Rhodes was convinced that if a system of British administration, based

on South African conditions, was ever to be carried on successfully, the

local British authority, and not the Home Government, must be the

machine employed; and in order to allow it to work freely, its action

must be made as independent as possible of Downing Street. For Downing

Street was an authority which blew hot or cold, in accordance with the

views of the party for the time being in power.[10]

[Footnote 9: The Crown Colony--not the Protectorate--annexed

by the Cape Colony in 1895.]

[Footnote 10: Rhodes's words were: "If we do not settle this

[_i.e._ the question of Bechuanaland] ourselves, we shall see

it taken up in the House of Commons on one side or the other,

not from any real interest in the question, but simply

because of its consequences to those occupying the

Ministerial benches. We want to get rid of Downing Street in

this question, and to deal with it ourselves, as a

self-governing colony."]

[Sidenote: New forces.]

And, in point of fact, both parties in England acquiesced in this

judgment of the South African British. During the years between

Frere's recall and the appointment of Lord Milner (1880-1897) the High

Commissioner was a decreasing force. Both Lord Rosmead and Lord Loch

did little to mould the destiny of South Africa: not because they

lacked capacity, but because it was the determination of the Home

Government to leave the difficult problem of South African unity to

local initiative. On the other hand, the progress which was made in

this direction by local initiative, aided as it was by the fortuitous

discovery of the Witwatersrand gold-fields, was considerable. The

highlands of South Central Africa were acquired for the British race,

and the Boer was effectively prevented from carrying the Vier-kleur

beyond the Limpopo; the railway, drawn through the Free State by the

magnet of the Rand, disturbed the retirement of the republican Dutch;

and finally the Cape Colony and Natal were linked together with the

Free State in a Customs Union. But the development of the mineral

resources of the country led to the appearance of a new factor in

South African politics. The comparative decline in the activity of the

High Commissioner had been accompanied by the establishment and growth

of powerful industrial corporations. It is easy to understand how a

man like Rhodes, with the wealth and influence of De Beers and the

Chartered Company at his command, might seek, by an alliance with the

"great houses" of the Rand, to find in private effort an instrument

for remedying the deficiencies of the Imperial Government even more

appropriate than the local governmental action upon which he had

previously relied. For the work of these industrial corporations had

powerfully enlisted the interest and sympathy of the British public.

The Jameson Raid was an illegitimate and disastrous application of an

otherwise meritorious and successful effort to strengthen the British

hold upon South Africa by private enterprise. It was at once the

measure of Imperial inefficiency, and its cure.

One other circumstance must be recalled in estimating the extent to

which the Home Government had earned the distrust of the British

population in South Africa. Only eighteen months[11] before the Raid

the High Commissioner, Lord Loch, had gone to Pretoria carrying a

despatch in which the grant of a five years' franchise was advocated

on behalf of the Uitlanders. His instructions were to present this

despatch, and press upon President Krueger personally the necessity for

giving effect to its recommendations. These instructions were

cancelled at the last moment by Lord Ripon, because the German

Ambassador had made representations in London that such action would

be regarded as an interference with the _status quo_ in South Africa,

and, as such, detrimental to German interests in that country. And six

months later[12] President Krueger, in attending a "Kommers" given by

the German Club at Pretoria in honour of the Kaiser Wilhelm II.'s

birthday, alluded to Germany as a grown-up power that would stop

England from "kicking" the child Republic.

[Footnote 11: June, 1894.]

[Footnote 12: January 28th, 1895.]

[Sidenote: Rhodes's Plan.]

The Raid was, therefore, a short cut to baffle German intrigue and

solve the problem of South African unity at one blow. For to Rhodes

the enfranchisement of the Uitlanders meant the withdrawal of the

Transvaal Government from its opposition to his scheme of commercial

federation. It is obvious that one ground of justification, and one

only, can be found for the usurpation of the functions of government

by a private individual, or group of individuals. This justification

is success. It has been the custom to represent Dr. Jameson's decision

to "ride in" as "an act of monumental folly," alike from a political

and a military point of view. But this opinion overlooks the fact that

the affair may have been so planned in Rhodes's mind that success did

not depend upon the victory of the Uitlanders, aided by Jameson's

troopers, but on the presence of the High Commissioner in the

Transvaal under such conditions as would make the intervention of the

Imperial Government at once imperative and effectual. The

representative of the Imperial Government, backed by a Johannesburg in

armed revolt against the Boer oligarchy, would find himself--so Rhodes

thought--in a position highly favourable to the successful prosecution

of the demands which had already been put forward on behalf of

British subjects resident in the Transvaal. And in order that this

essential part of the plan might be carried out without a moment of

unnecessary delay, Rhodes kept a train, with steam up, in the station

at Capetown ready to speed Lord Rosmead northwards directly the news

of Dr. Jameson's arrival at Johannesburg should have reached him. Once

Jameson's force had "got through," he relied upon the Reform

Committee, however incomplete its preparations, being able to hold

Johannesburg for a couple of days against any force the Boers could

bring.[13] Nor in the light of what happened, during the war, both at

Mafeking and Kimberley, can this expectation be thought extravagant.

Here his responsibilities would have ended. The High Commissioner and

the Imperial Government would have done the rest. To indulge in

metaphor, the Imperial locomotive was to be set going, but the lines

on which it was to run were those laid down by Mr. Rhodes.

[Footnote 13: It is worth noticing that even the presence of

the German Marines at Delagoa Bay was

counterbalanced--whether by chance or design--by the

coincidence of the arrival of a British troopship with

time-expired men from the Indian garrison, off Durban.]

If this was the essence of Rhodes's plan, it would matter

comparatively little whether the Reformers had, or had not, completed

their preparations, or whether Dr. Jameson had 1,200 or 500 men.

Certainly some such assumption is necessary to account for the fact

that Rhodes treated his confederates at Johannesburg as so many pawns

on a chess-board. It is equally necessary to account for Dr. Jameson's

action. "Twenty years friends, and now he goes in and ruins me," was

Rhodes's comment on the news that Dr. Jameson had "ridden in," in

spite of his own orders to the contrary and the message to the same

effect which Captain Heany had delivered on behalf of the Reformers.

But what if Dr. Jameson knew, or thought that he knew, that Rhodes's

object in forcing the insurrection was not to make the Uitlanders

reduce Krueger, but to compel the Imperial Government to step in? In

this case he may well have thought that what was essential was not

that the rising should be successful, but that there should be a

rising of any kind; provided that it was sufficiently grave to arrest

the attention of the world, and claim the interference of the Imperial

Government.

According to Mr. Chamberlain the continued inaction of the Imperial

Government in the eighteen months that had passed since Lord Loch's

visit to Pretoria in June, 1894, was due to two circumstances. In the

first place, "the Uitlanders and their organs had always deprecated

the introduction into the dispute of what is called in South Africa

the 'Imperial factor'"; and in the second, the "rumours" of violent

measures "were continually falsified by the event." Obviously, if

Rhodes forced an insurrection with the intention of removing these

obstacles--if, that is to say, the intervention of the Imperial

Government, and not the success of the insurrection, was his primary

object--the temerity of Dr. Jameson's invasion is materially

diminished. Now Mr. Chamberlain's statement, made under date February

4th, 1896, _i.e._ five weeks after the Raid, is perfectly consistent

with the view of the attitude of the Reformers expressed by Rhodes on

the day before the Raid took place.

[Sidenote: The reformers divided.]

Dr. Jameson's force, it will be remembered, started on the evening of

Sunday, December 29th, 1895. Up to three days before--the

26th--nothing had occurred to interfere with the final arrangement,

telegraphed to Dr. Jameson from Capetown, that the movement in

Johannesburg would take place on Saturday, the 28th. The circumstances

which caused the Reformers to alter their plans were explained by

Rhodes in an interview with Sir Graham Bower, the Imperial Secretary,

at Capetown on the same Saturday, the 28th, with his accustomed

vivacity. The Johannesburg insurrection, he said--

"had fizzled out as a damp squib. The capitalists financing the

movement had made the hoisting of the British flag a _sine qua

non_. This the National Union rejected, and issued a manifesto

declaring for a republic. The division had led to the complete

collapse of the movement, and it was thought that the leaders

would make the best terms they could with President Krueger."

The telegrams which reached Dr. Jameson between the 26th and 29th

contained the same facts, with the further information that Captain

Heany was travelling by special train to him with a message direct

from the Reformers. In these circumstances it is said that Rhodes at

Capetown imagined as little as the Reform leaders at Johannesburg that

Dr. Jameson would cross the frontier. That, however, there was another

point of view from which the situation might present itself to Dr.

Jameson is shown by the fact that Mr. Chamberlain, in reply to the

High Commissioner's telegram reporting the substance of Rhodes's

statement to Sir Graham Bower, at once[14] inquired of Lord Rosmead,

"Are you sure Jameson has not moved in consequence of the collapse?"

[Footnote 14: Afternoon of Monday, December 30th.]

Was Mr. Chamberlain right? Did Dr. Jameson see in the fact that the

Reformers were divided on such an issue only an additional reason for

carrying out a plan which had for its object to compel the Imperial

Government to intervene in the affairs of the Transvaal before it was

too late; that is to say, before the British population had definitely

committed itself to the policy of a purged republic, but a republic

under any flag but that of Great Britain? Such a policy was not merely

possible. It seemed inevitable to the vivacious French observer who

wrote, not from hearsay, but "with his eyes upon the object," in

December, 1893:

"The Transvaal will never be an English colony. The English of

the Transvaal, as well as those of Cape Colony and Natal, would

be as firmly opposed to it as the Boers themselves, for they have

never forgiven England for letting herself be beaten by the Boers

at Majuba Hill and accepting her defeat, a proceeding which has

rendered them ridiculous in the eyes of the Dutch population of

South Africa.... With me this is not a simple impression, but a

firm conviction."[15]

[Footnote 15: "John Bull & Co.," by "Max O'Rell," 1894.]

[Sidenote: Jameson's decision.]

If these were the considerations which weighed with Dr. Jameson, his

decision to "ride in" was inconsistent neither with friendship nor

with patriotism. When Captain Heany had read from his pocket-book the

message from the Reformers, Jameson paced for twenty minutes outside

his tent. Having re-entered it, he announced his determination to

disregard Heany's message no less than Rhodes's telegram. It was a

momentous decision to take after twenty minutes' thought. Had he a

reasonable expectation of carrying out the plan as Rhodes conceived

it, in spite of the change in the position of affairs at Johannesburg?

Had he any reason to believe that Rhodes desired him to force the

insurrection in spite of his telegrams to the contrary? It is the

answers to these questions that make the Raid, as far as Dr. Jameson

is concerned, an "act of monumental folly," or a legitimate assumption

of personal responsibility that is part of the empire-builder's

stock-in-trade. The answer to the second question remains a matter of

speculation. The answer to the first is to be found in the record of

the expedition. Dr. Jameson reached Kruegersdorp at three o'clock on

Wednesday, January 1st. A few hours before a cyclist had brought him

congratulatory messages from the Reform leaders. The goal was almost

within sight. What prevented Sir John Willoughby from taking his

little force safely over the remaining twenty miles from Kruegersdorp

to Johannesburg was the merest accident: the few hours' delay caused,

naturally enough, by Dr. Jameson's desire that his force should be met

and escorted by a small body of volunteers from the Rand. He did not

want, as he said, to go to Johannesburg as "a pirate." Sir John

Willoughby's evidence is perfectly definite and conclusive on the

point. If the force had pushed on by road from Kruegersdorp to

Johannesburg on Wednesday evening--had not, in Willoughby's words,

"messed about" at Kruegersdorp in expectation of the welcoming

escort--Johannesburg would have been reached in safety on Thursday

morning. With Dr. Jameson in Johannesburg and Lord Rosmead speeding

northwards in his special train, the way would have been prepared for

that decisive and successful action on the part of the Imperial

Government which Rhodes had desired to bring about.

[Sidenote: Why the raid failed.]

But, unsuccessful as was the actual expedition, the decision to "ride

in" had secured the intervention of the Imperial Government. If

intervention could have done what Rhodes expected of it, Dr. Jameson's

decision to "ride in" would have gained, at the cost of few lives and

no increase of the national debt, what the war gained four years later

at the cost of twenty thousand lives and L220,000,000. As it was, it

failed to win the franchise for the Uitlanders. Why did not Lord

Rosmead, with so strong a Colonial Secretary as Mr. Chamberlain at his

back, brush the Raid aside, and address himself to the removal of the

greater wrong that gave it birth? If Lord Rosmead had acted in the

spirit of Mr. Chamberlain's despatches; if he had reminded the

Government of the Republic from the first "that the danger from which

they had just escaped was real, and one which, if the causes which led

up to it were not removed, might recur, although in a different form";

if he had used "plain language" to President Krueger; and if, above

all, he had remembered--as Mr. Chamberlain reminded him--that "the

people of Johannesburg had surrendered in the belief that reasonable

concessions would have been arranged through his intervention, and

until these were granted, or were definitely promised to him by the

President, the root-causes of the recent troubles would

remain,"--might he not yet have saved South Africa for the empire

without subjecting her to the dread arbitrament of the sword?

[Sidenote: Mr. Chamberlain.]

It is in the answer to this question that we find the actual cause of

the utter failure of Rhodes's plan. The truth is that success in any

real sense--that is to say, success which would have strengthened

British supremacy and promoted the union of European South Africa--was

impossible. The sole response which Lord Rosmead returned to Mr.

Chamberlain's counsels was the weary confession: "The question of

concessions to Uitlanders has never been discussed between President

Krueger and myself." The methods employed by Rhodes were so

questionable that no High Commissioner could have allowed the Imperial

Government to have derived any advantage from them. To have gained the

franchise for the Uitlanders as the result of violent and unscrupulous

action, would have inflicted an enduring injury upon the British cause

in South Africa for which the enfranchisement itself would have been

small compensation. The disclosure of these methods and, with them, of

the hollowness of Rhodes's alliance with the Afrikander Bond, alarmed

and incensed the whole Dutch population of South Africa. What this

meant Lord Rosmead knew, and Mr. Chamberlain did not know. The ten

years' truce between the forces of the Afrikander nationalists and the

paramount Power was at an end. To combat these forces something better

than the methods of the Raid was required. _Non tali auxilio, nec

defensoribus istis!_ No modern race have excelled the Dutch in courage

and endurance. In Europe they had successfully defended their

independence against the flower of the armies of Spain, Austria, and

France. The South African Dutch were not inferior in these qualities

to the people of the parent stock. If such a race, embarked upon what

it conceived to be a struggle for national existence, was to be

overcome, the hands of the conqueror must be clean as well as strong.

None the less the active sympathy with the Uitlanders exhibited in Mr.

Chamberlain's despatches was welcomed by the British as evidence that

the new Colonial Secretary was more alert and determined than his

predecessors. For the first time in the history of British

administration in South Africa, Downing Street had shown itself more

zealous than Capetown. It was the solitary ray of light that broke the

universal gloom in which South Africa was enshrouded by the

catastrophe of the Raid.

Lord Milner's Work in South Africa From its Commencement in 1897 to the Peace of Vereeniging in 1902 · 第 1 / 13 章