have no time to look after a lunatic now, or to take you to the lunatic
asylum.’
‘I beg your pardon, old man; I had to do it, or I should really have
gone mad from joy, but I am better now,’ said Steve, remounting his
horse. ‘Where are you going to?’ he asked of the reporter.
‘Oh, I am off to town to send news to the _Pretoria Press_, which I
represent here. And what do you intend doing?’
‘I wish to join one of our commandos; where shall I find one?’
‘If you will go to the top of that rise there, you will see the whole
position. When I came over it, the Burghers were retreating from the
railway cutting (which they had occupied during the night) towards that
very ridge. I think they intend taking possession of it and the drift,
so as to finally stop the progress of the Chartered troops. Good-bye; I
must be off to send particulars of our position to our paper. Take care
of yourself and keep out of the way of the Maxims.’
What gratitude filled the heart of Steve now when he knew that Captain
Thatcher’s story was all lies and invention.
It went beyond Steve’s comprehension what object any man could have
in telling such deliberate lies. This Captain Thatcher ought to have
known that what he was saying was all lies, and that ultimately his
want of veracity was bound to be discovered. Steve could find only
one explanation, and that was that such a person tells lies simply
for the love of the thing, and for the temporary notoriety that such
sensational tales may bring. Some people have a way of manufacturing
their news according to the demand of their audiences. If the audience
were composed of Government haters and Jameson sympathisers the
news was made to suit their wishes, while if it were friends of the
Government, the contrary rule was observed.
When Steve came to the top of the height he saw a party of Burghers
coming directly towards him. At a distance he perceived a large troop
of men coming in apparent pursuit of the Burghers. These latter he
correctly took to be Jameson’s filibusters.
‘Thank God! I have arrived in time to fight with my countrymen for life
or--death. And if it is to lose, I would a thousand times rather die
than live!’ thought Steve to himself.
Where he was standing on the rise or ridge, a reef was cropping out,
throwing out projections of rocks, which formed splendid natural
fortifications, giving good protection against the fire of an enemy
coming in the direction from which Jameson was coming.
The Burghers seemed to be retiring from the enemy--_so were_ they. The
fire from Jameson’s Maxims and long-range field-pieces could not be
resisted on the open veld, for which reason they were retiring towards
the aforesaid out-croppings, where Steve was standing. When they
arrived on the spot, Steve discovered the field cornet in command of
the Burghers to be an old acquaintance and friend of his. It did not
take Steve more than a minute to explain matters, and to be provided
with a spare rifle and a belt of ammunition.
The Burghers now took up their position amongst the rocks (which were
situated exactly on the sky line of the ridge mostly, thus giving
them the command of the approaches to the drift through which Jameson
must pass if he passed the Burghers at all) and prepared to oppose
the passage of the enemy. Jameson came on now--Maxims, field-pieces
and all; his force was variously estimated from five hundred to eight
hundred men. His troops were forcing onwards towards the drift.
Opposing his passage to the drift were eighty-seven Burghers (this
is correct, as near as possible; there may have been a difference of
one or two, more or less--but rather less) disposed in the following
manner:--
In the first patch of rocks, two hundred yards from the road,
twenty-five men occupied a position; farther on fifteen men were
disposed a little nearer to the drift, but in a line with the aforesaid
twenty-five men; still nearer to the drift seven men were lying in
wait. Beyond the drift, about seven hundred yards away, forty Burghers
occupied a small kopje. These forty men could only fire at long range
on the enemy, as the long range field-pieces of the enemy prevented
their leaving their shelter. The seven and fifteen men mentioned had
to do most of the fighting, and had to stand the hottest fire, as the
Maxims were playing almost continually on their position, but they were
nobly supported by the twenty-five men stationed a little higher up.
Jameson’s passage to the drift was soon stopped by the heavy fire of
the Burghers, his men were dropping continually. He was obliged to give
up all idea of crossing, and took possession of a farmhouse, a cattle
kraal and stone-walled land. His Maxims and field-pieces were protected
partially by the stone wall of the land. The majority of troops took
possession of the kraal and the house. The men in possession of the
kraal and house found themselves directly opposed to the twenty-five
men on the ridge. The Maxims directed their fire mostly on the parties
of fifteen and seven, who were directly opposite them. The field-pieces
directed the full force of their fire on the forty Burghers occupying
the kopje beyond the drift, who were seven hundred yards away, while
the party of twenty-five was about two hundred yards from the kraal
and house occupied by the enemy, and the parties of fifteen and seven,
who were near to each other, were about one hundred yards from the
troopers, and four hundred yards from the Maxims. More Burghers,
amounting to over one thousand, were certainly in the neighbourhood of
the battlefield, but were too far away to take part in the fight, and
those occupying the positions above described were the only Burghers
fighting--actually fighting, I mean--against Jameson at the battle of
Doornkop. Steve found himself amongst the party of fifteen described
as being opposed to the Maxims.
It was a terrible ordeal for those twenty-two men lying flat behind the
rocks. The Maxim bullets literally rained on them, and, unprotected by
the rocks, every soul of that little band would have been wiped out in
a few moments.
Steve heard (in fact, felt) a continuous patter against the rock in
front of him. It seemed to him as if a whole battery of Maxims were
firing at that particular rock. The chips of rock and sand were raining
upon him, thrown up by the bullets. Luckily his rock was just large
enough to protect him against the heavy and continuous fire. Once he
just peeped over a little dent in the rock, took aim and fired, when
_whew_ came a bullet right through his hat. Next moment his body must
have moved slightly outside the line protected by the rock, when he
felt a stinging sensation at his hip, a bullet had just grazed him.
He got several more through his clothing in this way, as he moved and
wormed himself about to take aim to fire. Luckily the Maxims could
not fire all over at once, and while they fired at one party the
other party would take advantage of the diversion in their favour
to rain well-aimed shots on the enemy, and when a Burgher fired he
reckoned upon one enemy being the less, either wounded or killed. For
a Transvaal Boer never wastes ammunition; he never fires unless he is
sure of his aim. A pang of pity went through Steve’s heart as he saw
the poor troopers of Jameson dropping down one after the other; he felt
that, although they were guilty of a great wrong to his country, still
they were human, and to be hurled into eternity while participating in
such a cowardly, back-handed blow against a people who had looked upon
them as friends, and not as foes, was awful. And while aiming his rifle
as accurately as he could, he murmured a prayer for the souls of those
that he was helping to send to the judgment seat of God, but--in
self-defence, in defence of country and national existence.
When first the fight began, Steve had felt the trembling, half fear,
half suspense and excitement, usually experienced by the soldier on
first facing the fire of battle. But soon he felt as calm and cool as
if he were taking part in a target practice.
‘By Heaven, but these English can fight better than I thought,’
remarked a Burgher on the left of Steve. ‘I have never known them to
fight so bravely before; I will give them credit for that.’
‘Yes, they do fight bravely,’ replied an old man next to him. ‘I never
saw a brave fight such as this in 1881; but you must remember they have
had their training in South Africa.’
‘True,’ was the reply.
At this moment Steve heard a groan on his right. Turning round, he saw
a young fellow lying in such a position, that he perceived at once
he must be wounded. He rolled himself towards the wounded man, took
his head upon his knees and spoke to him, but received no answer. On
examination he saw that he had been shot through the head. It was poor
M’Donald, who, although shot through the brain, lived ten days longer,
and then died, when he received an honoured funeral.
Steve helped to carry the wounded man down the opposite side of the
ridge into safety, where he was left with one more wounded Burgher, in
a small deserted house, in the care of two men. Steve then returned to
his place, and resumed his share in the fierce fight.
The battle was raging fierce and hot. The cannon of the Chartered
troops roared hoarsely above the rattle of small arms; while the
continuous rat-a-tat-tat-tat of the Maxims was also to be distinguished
from the more irregular and less incessant cracking of the rifles.
A heavy cloud of smoke was floating above, concealing the sun as if
it wished to hide the murderous work from the sight of Heaven. The
slaughter amongst the Chartered troops was terrible. One detachment
after another bravely charged the position of the Burghers, under the
protection of their Maxims; but it was in vain, the heavy and accurate
fire of the Burghers forced them to retire with great loss every time;
and the Chartered troopers were only too glad to regain their shelter.
In spite of his pity for them, Steve’s heart throbbed with a joy almost
savage in its intensity when he saw the troopers giving way all along
the line. They seemed to look for some point of safety towards which
they might fly. But ’tis a vain hope. Look towards whatever side they
will, they could see Burghers in the distance awaiting them. _They were
thoroughly hemmed in._
Steve saw all this and realised the position in which Jameson must find
himself. He tried to place himself in Jameson’s position in imagination.
‘What should I do if I were to find myself in such a hole of my
own making? Should I surrender and take my chance of getting out
alive? Could I expect to get out alive in case I surrendered? No! A
filibustering murderer can expect nothing but death. Death would be
my sentence, by _Human Laws_, by _Moral Law_, by God’s Law. I could
not even expect a word of mercy from England. She has disowned me and
my expedition, and I have disobeyed her. _No_, rather than give in
now, after having ventured so much and risked so much to obtain my aim
(whatever that may be), I would rather fight to the end and obtain that
sympathy and that martyrdom that the grave always brings. That would
be something, at least, while to surrender _now_ would mean eternal
disgrace, trouble unending, and perhaps death on the scaffold.
But Jameson must have thought otherwise, as we shall see. He was either
too cowardly to die such a death, or he must have known beforehand that
external aid (of which Steve did not know then) would be rendered him.
He must have known (maybe it was promised him in case of failure) that
the full weight of Chartered influences and Chartered capital would be
exerted in his favour.
While Steve was thus meditating, as he surveyed the field of battle
and Jameson’s hopeless condition, the battle was still proceeding as
fiercely as ever. Turn and twist as they would, the Chartered troops
found that the Boer bullets followed them everywhere.
Suddenly a cheer was raised by the Burghers. Steve looked to see the
reason for this, and saw, directed by the joyful looks of the Burghers,
the State artillery taking up a position on a distant rise.
The artillery had arrived at last, but too late. At this moment a white
flag was hoisted by the Chartered troops. It had been asserted by some
that the Burghers fired a volley after the white flag was hoisted. It
is partly true. The flag was hoisted by the troopers directly facing
Steve’s party of Burghers. The white flag was out of sight of the
twenty-five Burghers stationed higher up, as the rocks hid the lower
end of Jameson’s line from their view. Therefore a few shots were fired
by them the moment after the flag was hoisted. But the shouts of their
companions who saw the flag apprised them of the fact, when, of course,
they immediately ceased firing.
The Burghers now left their shelter and came out, walking and riding
towards Jameson’s position. Jameson’s troopers deployed, so as to place
themselves between the Burghers and their own Maxims and cannon.
The field cornet now ordered a Burgher named P. Nagel to go and see
‘what the English wanted.’ He went, and returned with a request from
Jameson to be allowed to return over the border. He (Jameson) was
informed that his request was impossible, as he had had the opportunity
given him to return before any fighting took place, and he failed to
take advantage of it, but that a meeting of officers would be called
together at once to further consider his request.
In the meanwhile Commandant Cronje, who was with the Burghers beyond
the drift, sent to Jameson to know whether he surrendered, being
unaware of the messenger sent by the field cornet, and whose report had
been submitted to Commandant Polgieter of Krugersdorp. Jameson replied
to Commandant Cronje’s message with an offer to surrender if the
lives of himself and men were guaranteed, whereupon Commandant Cronje
informed Jameson that if he laid down his arms and would promise to pay
the expenses of the Government of the South African Republic, that he
would guarantee the lives of himself and men _until handed over to the
Commandant-General, when the Krijgsraad would further decide upon his
case_. More, he had no authority to promise. He gave Jameson thirty
minutes to consider and accept. _Jameson accepted._
CHAPTER XIV
PROBABLE DANGERS AVERTED BY DOORNKOP’S FIGHT
A short time later, Commandant Malan arriving on the scene, inquired
as to what the terms of surrender were. After being informed as to
the promise given Jameson to safely deliver him into the hands of the
Commandant-General, he made a member of the Burgher party, who spoke
English well, to distinctly make Jameson understand that the lives of
himself and men were guaranteed only while on the field of battle and
while on their passage to Pretoria, when the proper authorities would
further decide as to their ultimate fate.
Of course these conditions could hardly be called conditions, except
the conditions extracted from Jameson, that they would lay down their
arms and pay all expenses; and even that followed as a natural result
on defeat. While the promise given by the commandant, that his life
would be safe-guarded while in transit to Pretoria was also but a
natural result of civilised warfare (if fighting a filibustering
murdering foe could be called civilised warfare), and would have
followed in any case, promise or no promise. But the promise was given,
as Jameson and his officers seemed to fear the anger of the justly
incensed Burghers.
When the white flag was hoisted by the Chartered troopers, the Burghers
were distrustful. They reasoned thus: ‘These people are not to be
trusted. They came into our country in a treacherous manner. They
slunk in when they thought we were off our guard. Now, having acted
once in a treacherous manner, are they not capable of acting so again?
Is it not their object to draw us out of our position and shelter,
and then to cut us down with their Maxims and cannon? No, before we
expose ourselves, we must be assured of their honest surrender; and
someone must first go and see what they want. Who will go?’ Without a
moment’s hesitation Steve jumped on the nearest horse, and rode full
speed towards the Chartered troopers. On looking round, he saw he was
followed by half-a-dozen more young fellows of the Burgher force. So he
was one of the first to speak to the invaders after the white flag was
hoisted.
Another incident, tragic in its result, took place after the surrender
of the Chartered arms. A young, inexperienced Burgher was curiously
handling and examining one of the magazine rifles, forming part of
the spoils of war, when, somehow or other, the _thing_ went off, and
wounded a fellow-Burgher, standing in front of him. The poor fellow
died from the wound.
That careless young man got the severest reprimand from his commandant
that ever he had in his life before; but being able to satisfactorily
prove that it was an accident, he was not punished. But he seemed
sufficiently punished by the thought that he had caused the death of a
companion. He seemed to take the disgrace, and the death of the victim
much to heart, and hardly spoke for days after. He wept when he left
the commandant’s tent.
Jameson’s men received the best attention possible, even on the field
of battle. Those who had provisions shared with them; and afterwards
they were taken to Krugersdorp, where they were treated more like
guests than prisoners. Of course any attempt at escape was guarded
against.
Jameson and officers were forwarded to Pretoria without unnecessary
delay. Jameson seemed especially sad and broken-hearted. Who knows what
hopes were dashed to the ground? Who knows his thoughts when he entered
the territory of a State at peace with his own country, into which he
was carrying the torch of civil war, murder and famine? It was like
taking a lighted torch into a powder magazine. He knew that his advent
meant ‘war to the knife’--to the bitter end; and the more success he
had at first, the more disastrous must the end be. Had he reached
Johannesburg, who could foresee where the bloodshed would have ended?
And the thousands of innocent, peaceable citizens of Johannesburg must
have suffered, and did suffer, with the guilty. All to satisfy the love
of power, glory, and lust of gold of a few unscrupulous men. But be
assured, O reader, that, if man does not punish them, a higher power
_will_.
Whatever Jameson’s reward for success was to have been, president
(?), governor (?), administrator (?), or prime minister to the modern
Emperor Napoleon, I do not know. This I do know, he seemed to recognise
that all was lost, that all the grand dreams of power and gold dreamt
by him and his fellow-conspirators had vanished into mist; for he never
spoke a word but--wept. Would that he had wept tears of repentance at
the bloodshed, the distress and heartburnings he had caused, instead
of weeping for failure. Or would that he had wept tears of joy that he
had failed to set the Powers of the world fighting a terrible war; a
war such as Napoleon even never saw. A war that would have changed the
destinies of many a nation on earth. A war that would have changed the
map of the world, to what extent no one can say. _What an escape._
Small things have world-wide effects. The battle of Doornkop saved the
world many a battle. Why? Because if Jameson had not been defeated, and
had not surrendered, and had reached Johannesburg, Johannesburg would
have taken courage. The strong would have been stronger, the wavering
would have wavered no more, even the peacefully inclined would have
been peaceful no more. The rebellion would have been an accomplished
fact. The proclamation, proclaiming the provisional government, instead
of being secretly destroyed, and put out of type, would have been
proclaimed. Civil war would have raged. England would have stepped in
and interfered. And although the South African Republic did NOT ask
for European aid, Europe _would have_ interfered. France, Germany,
Russia and (believe it if you will or not)--the sister Republic--the
United States. The chance would have been too good for these powers
to lose the opportunity to give effect to their growing jealousy of
the increasing colonial wealth and power of England. The whispered
coalition between France, Germany and Russia (which only died out
because _the fuel on which it was fed gave up_, viz., the fear or hope
that England would take up the part of the rebels and go against the
Boer Government) would have been proclaimed and given effect to. What
would have been the result? We can only surmise.
However, one of two things would have happened. England would have been
raised to a higher pinnacle of power than she ever occupied before;
or--the breaking up of the British Empire.
Well, analyse England’s position.
England was _gloriously isolated_, as a certain Canadian politician
termed it.
Germany was against her.
Germany of course meant _the_ Triple Alliance.
France and Russia could not be depended upon.
The United States of America had set her foot down against English
pretensions in Venezuela.
Europe was against England! Turkey? No need to say anything about
Turkey? Everybody knows the situation there at the time America was
against England. Upon whom could England reckon in her time of need?
Her colonies? Her colonies will need to be protected by her, instead
of rendering any aid! Herself? Could Great Britain and Ireland reckon
upon HERSELF? How about Ireland? Has England any right to depend upon
Irish aid in time of need? The contrary rather! No, Great Britain could
reckon upon Great Britain, but not upon Great Britain _and Ireland_;
nor Greater Britain either!
And as to South Africa (remember we are considering the extreme case).
England thus situated could not bring much force to bear upon South
Africa. And how would South Africa stand in such a case? Of course,
with such a provocation, the Transvaal and Free State would stand
together, that is taken for granted without argument--that has been
proved. But what about the Cape Colony? Nine tenths of the population
of the Cape Colony and Natal are Afrikanders. Those Afrikanders would
have seen that THEIR TIME HAD ARRIVED. No more need be said, except
that a united South Africa would have been realized at last, _and a
Republican united South Africa_. Of course, there are those who will
call this reasoning _all moonshine_. There are those who call England’s
isolation _glorious_. There are those who consider England capable of
fighting the united world, and still being victorious. Well, let them
think so. Let them put their head in the sand, like the ostrich, and
refuse to read the signs of the times. It is good for _such_ British
subjects that they are not at the head of the British Government.
It is fortunate for the British Empire that they have men in their
ministry like Chamberlain. _He_ saw the breakers ahead; and like a
good steersman, kept clear of the rocks. _He_ saw that it was better
to make friends of a quiet, peace-loving nation rather than foes. It
is true he has made a mistake now and then; but he is only human, and
almost unhuman like, he acknowledged his mistakes, more credit to him.
Let him continue to maintain peace, by being just and fair, and he may
reckon upon making friends, instead of foes, of the great Afrikander
nation that is being built up in South Africa.
CHAPTER XV
THE FIGHTING PREVIOUS TO DOORNKOP’S BATTLE
Steve inquired from his friend the field cornet for particulars of the
fight previous to his arrival. We give the words of the field cornet
_verbatim_:--
‘Fighting began yesterday. We were only a small party of Burghers at
first, and could hardly expect to defeat Jameson on the open veld, so
we harassed him as much as possible, to delay him until reinforcements
arrived. But we had to remain at a distance most of the time, as we
had only rifles to fight with, and they had Maxims, which carried much
farther than our Martinis, not to speak of their field-pieces. But
later on in the day we reached a strong position. We were directly in
Jameson’s road. He had to conquer us before he could pass on towards
Johannesburg _via_ Krugersdorp. But we were quite confident that our
position was inaccessible to the enemy. We had selected a _rise_,
crested with rocks, offering good shelter against the enemy’s fire.
Below the rise, and between us and the enemy, was a spruit, spreading
out into a marsh. Through this marshy spruit the enemy had to pass
before reaching our position. Beyond the marsh the enemy took up a
position with their cannon and Maxims, sending out three detachments
to charge us. One party of about eighty troopers charged our centre,
through the usual drift of the spruit, while the other two detachments
charged our left and right wings respectively. At this moment our
ammunition was giving in. We had anxiously been awaiting an ammunition
train, which we had been informed had been despatched from Pretoria
for our use. Half-an-hour before the enemy prepared to charge, a
messenger had arrived from Krugersdorp to inform us of the arrival of
the ammunition train there, with a promise that a trolley loaded with
the required ammunition would soon follow. Now, just at the moment
when the enemy were leaving their own position to charge us, and when
we most needed it, the much-longed-for ammunition trolley arrived upon
the scene. An old man, with several others, was standing on the trolley
handing packets of cartridges down, when a shell from the enemy fell
right on top of the ammunition trolley between the group handing the
cartridges down, and burst. Marvellous to relate, the shell did no
injury to the ammunition, nor was anyone hurt.
‘“A miracle! a miracle, brothers!” cried the old man. “God is with us,
let us fight and conquer; God has given them into our hands.” The face
of the old patriarch glowed with faith as he spoke.
‘This seemed to give us all fresh courage and enthusiasm, and as the
enemy came charging in their three divisions we repelled them with
great loss to themselves. The right and left divisions of the enemy
were simply forced to retire in disorder, leaving several of their
comrades on the veld. The centre detachment of the enemy succeeded in
reaching the drift of the spruit, but the Burgher fire was too hot
for them; a part of them fled back and succeeded in rejoining their
main force, but seven of them were left wounded on the road, and, as
we afterwards ascertained, nineteen of them took cover amongst the
tall grass of the marsh, and lay in the mud and water until their
main force retired from the scene towards evening, when we took the
above-mentioned nineteen troopers prisoners. Poor fellows, they were in
a sorry plight; they had been lying under water and mud all the time,
with only their noses and mouths out of water for breathing.
‘As I said, the main force saw that they could not force our position,
and retired, cutting across the veld with the hope of avoiding us; but
while the majority of us remained to guard the road at the drift, about
one hundred of us kept abreast of Jameson’s force, so as to prevent
them from slipping through.
‘We saw Jameson was heading towards the railway cutting, so we raced
on ahead and took possession of the cutting, using the embankment as a
breastwork, and again brought the invaders to a full stop. As it was
getting dark now, Jameson encamped for the night, out of rifle shot
from the embankment; but he was near enough to keep on shelling our
position, off and on, during the night. But as we were well protected
by our embankment, no harm was done.
‘During the night, a sad accident happened.
‘The son of Commandant Cronje, who was rather too venturesome, had
crossed the railway cutting and was riding about on the other side. We
could not recognise him in the dark. We thought it was a spy from the
enemy. We called out three times, “Who goes there?” but received no
reply. Whether he did not hear us, I cannot say; some of our men fired
and he fell, severely wounded. It is a sad thing that, out of five of
our Burghers who have been killed, two have been killed by our own
men, besides the one wounded just now by that careless young man. And
another, I hear, has been killed to-day by our own men. He was near to
the enemy, and as his dress was somewhat similar to Jameson’s troopers,
he was fired at and killed; and our men only found out their mistake
when too late.
‘Well, to resume, when day broke, Jameson once more earnestly set to
work, trying to beat us back from the embankment, but in vain. We
drove him along the line, always keeping him back and preventing him
from crossing. But while he kept us busy, he sent some of his heavy
field-pieces on ahead, which crossed over before we saw their dodge, as
we were busy repelling charge after charge from Jameson’s troopers. As
he was able to sweep our side of the embankment now, we had to leave
Jameson in possession of the line. We now resolved once more to retire,
and go on ahead to cut Jameson off at some other convenient place.
Jameson was now on the road to Doornkop, and in possession of the road.
It was vain for us to attempt stopping him on the open road, as he had
the advantage of numbers, as well as having cannon and Maxims against
our rifles. We resolved to cut across the veld towards the drift at
Brinks’ farm, which Jameson must cross to reach Krugersdorp, unless
he took the other road, on which our commando was waiting for him.
We raced across the veld and arrived here, finding you in possession
already. The rest you know yourself.’
‘Yes, but you say one hundred of you left the main commando to watch
Jameson as he was dodging about; what has become of those hundred men?
There are only eighty-seven here on the battlefield, besides those who
came after the battle was over. What has become of the rest?’
‘Well, you see, as we raced across the veld to cut Jameson off here,
those who had the weakest horses were left behind, and they, in their
turn, were again cut off by Jameson’s men, and they had to go a
roundabout way to reach us. I see they have arrived now, but too late
to take part in the fight.’
Steve thanked his friend for the information, and resumed his
investigations elsewhere.
Steve was detailed to assist in guarding the prisoners, and as he spoke
English well, he questioned them and got much information from them.
One of them told him that he had been lying in a slight depression of
the ground during the fight. He said,--
‘I thought that, if I lay flat, the Boers could never hit me, as a
slight hollow seemed to afford me all the protection I needed. But the
bullets kept striking right in front of my eyes, and the ground seemed
to be wearing down more and more in front of me, so that the bullets,
instead of passing over me, threatened to soon pass through me. I
had a hatchet, which I used to deepen my little hollow as fast as my
protection was being shot away. Thus, by hugging the ground closely, I
managed to escape safe and sound to the end.’
Many of them told tales of marvellous escapes from the unerring aim of
the Burghers, as well as unheard-of hiding-places used by them during
the battle.
They told of how they had to leave dead and wounded, the day before;
Jameson seeming to think that the dead might bury its own dead!--he
only cared for the living.
I may here state that the Government sent parties on the route
travelled to bury the dead and succour the deserted wounded. Some of
these last had undergone terrible sufferings--wounded, unprotected,
unsheltered, deserted by their friends, they lay on the veld; but
Jameson has enough to answer for already--over this we shall draw a
veil and say no more.
Another told how he was one of several who had been sent from
Johannesburg to join Jameson beyond the border. They had been engaged
to fight Kaffirs. When they were told that they were going to march to
Johannesburg, many deserted. These latter were Afrikanders of the right
sort, and declined to fight their own countrymen.
‘Even I would have deserted if I had had the chance, but I was too
closely watched,’ remarked his informant.
‘But could these Afrikanders, who meant the Transvaal well, not send
a telegram to warn the Government of their danger and of Jameson’s
intentions?’
‘No; why we could not even write a letter to our relatives unless it
was submitted to the officers to first read it.’
‘When did you first learn your true destination?’
‘When Jameson and other officers addressed us, and told us that we were
going to assist men, women and children at the Rand, who were in danger
of their lives. He told us that we were going to assist in upholding
British supremacy in South Africa, and that he was sure not a shot
would be fired; also, that the Boers would not be molested.
‘He asked for volunteers, but no one moved until ordered to do so.
Great promises were made to us. We were promised £1000 and a farm each
if successful, besides other considerations. I am afraid we have lost
that farm and £1000,’ he concluded smilingly.
Another one informed Steve how Jameson had been preparing for months
back for his raid into the Transvaal.
‘We were not supposed to know what the great preparations were made
for; it was stated by our leaders that we were going to fight some
native chief, but many of us had our suspicions. There was too much
mystery and private conference amongst the officers. I for one had my
suspicions, and it has exactly turned out as I expected. I am only
surprised that your Government did not suspect what was going on. Why,
all along our route we found buildings erected, containing stores,
forage and food for ourselves, and even fresh horses. All this must
have taken time to prepare. Always in due time we found one of these
stores, containing food and forage.’
‘But how is it that I hear your leader wrote, in reply to the protest
of the Commandant of Marico against his entry into the country, that he
came in reply to a request for help from leading men in Johannesburg to
protect life and property, and to help them to obtain certain political
rights, for which they had asked a week ago. He also gave you and
others to understand that he was going to Johannesburg to protect women
and children against goodness knows what. Now the only danger that
Johannesburg and its inhabitants may be in might be because they have
been in a revolutionary state for the last few days. How could Jameson
have known months ago that this would be the case, if he has been
preparing himself for months?’
‘Oh, you must be innocent! Do you believe, or do you think we ever
believed this story about protecting women and children. Look here! I
am a man of the world, and I know when two and two make four. I have
kept my eyes and ears open, and I have found out a thing or two, and
you may believe me when I say that the whole thing is a deep laid plot
to dispossess your Government of all responsibility of the government
of the Transvaal. You must know that Johannesburg is altogether too
rich to be left in the possession of the Boers, and certain wealthy and
avaricious persons in England, Cape Town and Johannesburg have formed
a great plot to get possession of your country. You may thank your
stars that you have defeated us; if you had allowed us to once enter
Johannesburg, I think Paul Kruger and his people would have been lost,
and instead of Paul Kruger, Cecil Rhodes would have been your chief,
and I pity your people if Cecil Rhodes had them in his power; he would
rule them with a rod of iron.’
‘Thank God, Cecil Rhodes is not all-powerful,’ said Steve; ‘even the
power of a millionaire and diamond king is limited, and I hope that
after this, the eyes of the Colonial Afrikander Bond will be opened,
and that his power will be more limited still?’
‘Do your people then know that he is at the head of all this plot and
revolution?’
‘We do not know yet positively, but we suspect a great deal, and will
know all soon, I expect.’
Steve was very tired that evening, but he saw that many Burghers had
had a very hard struggle to arrive in time, and that most of them had
slept even less than he had done the last few days, and not one of
them complained, or tried to shirk duty, therefore he volunteered for
guard duty or anything else that he might be required for. He was then
appointed to be one of the guards escorting the officers to Pretoria.
CHAPTER XVI
JOHANNESBURG DURING THE CRISIS
Let us take a look at what Johannesburg and Pretoria has been doing
during the time Steve had been away from home.
Ever since the publication of the famous National Union Manifesto,
Johannesburg had been in a state of turmoil and excitement. At
first everything was said in whispers, and all revolutionary acts
and preparations were done in stealth; only the Press belonging to
the anti-Boer organisation kept up its usual vituperations of the
Government, in addition to revolutionary articles well calculated to
incite the population to a rebellious state. There seemed to be some
electric depression in the atmosphere. Everybody seemed to distrust his
neighbour, especially the guilty plotters seemed to dread detection.
But soon speech and action became bolder, as it was seen the Government
was disinclined to take any strong measures. The policy of the
Government seemed to have been one of gentleness and conciliation. All
the Government officials had received orders to avoid giving offence,
or to do aught to incite the populace, or cause a disturbance of the
peace; particular stress was laid on the order to avoid making a show
of armed force, either of police or armed Burghers.
This was taken as a confession of weakness on the part of the
Government by the revolutionists, and it was resolved to follow up the
apparent advantage gained. Open enlistment now went on. Every scamp,
ex-prisoner, burglar or vagabond who was willing to take up arms, was
enlisted.
But now the weakness of the revolutionists became apparent. When it
came to fighting nobody wanted to fight. The thousands of English
miners upon whom the capitalistic schemers had reckoned, failed them.
These miners were sensible men, and wise in their generation. They
argued in this way:
‘Why should we fight? We have nothing to fight for; we have everything
we can wish for; we are living in a labourers’ paradise; we are as
free as we have never been in our own country; we are prosperous,
and pay only 18s. 6d. a year in taxes--that is when we choose to do
so. What do we care about the franchise, we are in this country to
make money, and we are making it hand over fist. We did not come here
to engage in political strife, or to fight the battles of scheming
and plotting capitalists who would reward us when once they are in
power, by combining against us, and bringing us down to the low level
in which our brethren in Europe and America have been brought by
capitalists. No, Messrs Cecil Rhodes, Phillips, Leonard, Farrar and
company will have to fight their own battles, _we_ are not going to
pull the chestnuts out of the fire for them, and then be kicked for our
pains--_dead off_!’ Thus the honest Cornishmen and other miners argued.
But all the same these miners were patriotic enough, or maybe they did
not feel interest in the subject enough to take any active part in the
strife at all; be the reason what it may, they refused to take the part
of either side, and many of them left the country altogether for the
time being. We think, if any were required, this was argument enough,
that the real working men, _the people_ (who are generally the first to
revolutionise, where revolution is wanted), refused absolutely to have
anything to do with this so-called revolution. Not only did they refuse
to fight gratuitously, but when the option was given them, either to
take up arms or to clear, they chose the latter alternative. This, we
say, was argument enough to show that the revolution--so-called--was
simply a capitalistic plot, created with mercenary motives.
The leaders--self-elected--of the National Union had assumed another
name by this time; they now called themselves the ‘Reform Committee’--a
name which was to become notorious indeed all the world over a little
later on. To gain as much influence as possible both with the outside
world as with the local populace, they added to themselves the names
of most of the leading men of the Rand. Many of the latter, although
members of the Reform Committee, and advertised as such, were innocent
of any evil intentions. Some refused absolutely to figure as members,
while others consented to their names being used when assured by the
original conspirators that nothing unconstitutional would be done,
and that they would only agitate for certain concessions from the
Government. These deluded persons of course had to suffer for their
weakness later on.
What to do now? The populace refuses to fight. The Reform Committee
resolved to carry on the revolution by the means of GOLD. This is the
golden city. We are all gold kings, we will let our gold fight our
battles, and when everything is gained, we shall get our gold back a
thousandfold. Thus they argued, and the result was, _one pound sterling
a day_ was offered to any and everybody who would take up arms and
fight against the Government.
It is true a few corps--small corps, too--were raised without pay,
but with the avowed object only to protect life and property and
not to fight against the Government. It seems the conspirators had
foreseen this apathy or want of interest on the part of the populace
in their artificial revolution, for which reason they had arranged
the Jameson Raid. Whoever had first thought of this arrangement,
viz., Jameson’s Raid? Was it the Reform Committee, or was it the arch
conspirator himself? Certain it is, it was a short-sighted policy, for
Jameson’s failure, as we shall see, ruined all their hopes. But we
are inclined towards the belief that, although the Reform Committee
sent the invitation to Jameson, it was done by the suggestion of the
arch conspirator himself--Rhodes. Of course the chief conspirators on
the Rand, the originators of the so-called revolution, were nothing
but the agents of their chief in Cape Town, and all they did and
suggested (it must be taken for granted) emanated from their leader.
And we can understand his policy. If he had left the whole conduct of
the affair to the Johannesburg Committee, they might take the bit in
their mouth, and strike out for themselves, and leave him out in the
cold, once success was assured. They might disown him, and take all
the fruits of success for themselves, and possession being ten points
of the law in such a case, he would be nicely sold. To guard against
this, he must have decided to have a force of his own on the spot at
any cost, by which means he hoped to hold the trump cards, in case his
friends tried to play him false. And his fears were not unfounded by
any means, as the majority of the conspirators who joined later, and
especially those who were not in all the secrets of the organisation,
were in favour of retaining the republican form of government in the
event of success. This was evidenced by the fact that the Committee
felt themselves compelled to confess to only wishing for a reformed
Republic, and not for any other form of government. This was even
carried so far that (whether in good faith or not we cannot say) the
Transvaal flag was hoisted on the Gold Fields Office, the headquarters
of the Reform Committee. This must have caused gnashing of teeth in the
private cabinet of a certain prime minister in the Cape Colony when he
received the news, and even his faithful agents on the Rand must have
felt terrified and troubled when they saw the prize slipping through
their fingers. What account will they be able to give to their lord and
master of their stewardship in case of failure? One only hope was left
them--Jameson. If Jameson came they would work together harmoniously,
and together subdue and conquer the Boer, after which it would be
time enough, and opportunity enough, with the aid of Jameson and his
victorious troopers, to enforce _their_ views and objects on the people
of the Rand.
The eyes of all the conspirators were now fixed on Jameson.
It seems Jameson had started a little too ‘previous.’ Something had
gone wrong. What that something was has not as yet been revealed.
However, Jameson’s premature advance precipitated matters. Everything
was hurried forward. Guns and ammunition were dragged forth to the
light of day from the places of concealment, where they had lain since
being smuggled into the country during full six months. Enlistment
at one pound sterling a day went merrily on. Twenty shillings a day
for being drilled and carrying guns about in a martial way was not
to be refused by the riff-raff, and even those who did not care to
fight at first accepted the pay and enlisted for the sake of the pay.
Drilling and enlisting went on openly in the streets of Johannesburg,
and the Government, who still hoped for better counsels to prevail,
and was anxious to avoid needless bloodshed, instructed the officials
to withdraw the police altogether, to avoid a collision with the
newly-enlisted soldiers.
The public of Johannesburg, who were indifferent and apathetic before,
on the news of Jameson’s advance became enthusiastic. Here was a
_hero_; and who does not delight in worshipping a hero? Those who were
neutral and indifferent before, were neutral no longer. Those who were
enthusiastic before became more so now. _Here was a hero to worship._
The few women who had not fled the pestilence of war, took up the
cry, ‘A hero! A hero!’ Poor women, they could not afford to pay their
passage from Johannesburg to fly the horrors to come, but they could
still manage to find a gay bonnet and a showy dress to wear to welcome
their new hero. Every garden was robbed to obtain flowers to strew
the path of Jameson and his brave troopers with blossoms. ‘Jameson is
coming! Jameson is coming! and will soon be here; out and meet him!’
The balconies were covered with spectators; the streets were crowded
with enthusiastic men and women, all to welcome their hero. ‘He is
coming. Did not our self-elected leaders declare that he had forced his
way through the Boers against tremendous odds, and that he would soon
be here? Nay, have not our own brave pound-a-day troops gone out to
meet him and bring him in in triumph. Ladies, hold your bouquets ready
to cast before his feet as he passes; men, keep your throats clear to
cheer.’
‘Ah, here he comes! here he comes! Hurrah! No, it is our men leading;
he is sure to be behind them. But see how their horses sweat; they
must have ridden hard. Where is Jameson? Where is Jameson? Alas! their
hero was but clay. They had failed him. He had tried not to fail them,
but fate was stronger; justice and right were against him; while they
were waiting to give him a glorious and triumphal welcome, he was a
prisoner. On inquiry, it was found that the brave (?) Johannesburg
troops, who had gone forth to aid Jameson, had seen a few Burghers in
the distance, and thinking prudence the better part of valour, had
retired.
Amidst all this revolutionary turmoil, the friends of the Government
in the city of gold kept calm and cool. For the Government had yet
many thousands of friends in this city. But they were quiet and calm.
They had offered their full assistance to the representatives of
the Government, but had been requested to keep quiet and cool--they
would be called upon only when it became necessary, not before. It is
believed that the Government possessed friends and strength sufficient
in Johannesburg alone (without calling in the aid of any outside
Burghers) to crush the rebellion. But the Government wished to avoid a
collision and the consequent bloodshed as long as peace was possible,
and if a stronger force was displayed around Johannesburg and Pretoria
than was necessary, it was only to guard against outside interference,
as well as to show Johannesburg the folly of its ways of seeking reform
by force. This display of force was one of the chief factors which
brought about a peaceful ending to the revolution.
CHAPTER XVII
THE FOLLY OF C. LEONARD AND HIS CLIQUE
Johannesburg, or rather the Reform Committee pretending to represent
Johannesburg, did many inexplicable things during these few days of
excitement.
The Reform Committee had sent a letter to Jameson (as per agreement?)
requesting his aid to obtain their demands, as is proved by the letter
Jameson had received, signed by five of the leading members of the
Reform Committee. The Reform Committee had promised Jameson (so he
declared) to send two thousand men to aid him in pushing his way
through to Johannesburg. But what did these brave reformers do--these
followers of Mirabeau, Rousseau, and who knows, perhaps, Marat? When
Jameson was on his way, as per agreement with them, to fight with
them, and for them, these reformers (?) sent a deputation to Pretoria
and concluded an armistice with the Government, by which they bound
themselves not to do anything to break the peace, or to give the
Government cause to send a force against them for a stipulated time.
A very laudable thing, and tending towards a peaceful solution, you
would think. Quite so; only why did they not do so before? Why did they
first entice Jameson to place himself in peril, and in danger of life
on their behalf, and then utterly desert him. This much can be said
on behalf of Jameson, and is freely acknowledged by the Boers, that
he at least was no coward, and kept his part of the agreement, even
though it was in an ignoble cause; but it only proves that there _is_
sometimes honour among thieves, even though the honour was all on one
side here.
How can the action of the Reform Committee be explained? I am afraid
it can be explained no more than the action of C. Leonard (the leader
and president of the conspirators on the Rand) can be explained.
His cowardly action seemed to have given a very bad example to his
fellow-conspirators, and utterly demoralised them. What did he do?
He threw the fat into the fire by the issue of his famous manifesto,
and when he had succeeded in thoroughly rousing the public and
the Government, and when Jameson was on his way, in answer to his
invitation to come and aid him and his gang in their nefarious work--in
short, when he saw the moment of danger had come, like a cur, he put
his tail between his legs and fled the country, leaving his friends to
get out of their position of danger, where he had helped to place them,
as best they may. When Leonard had fled, the rest of the conspirators
seemed to realise the danger of their little game of bluff. They had
hoped, as one of their members had said months before, that the Boer
Government would _funk_ it (excuse the slang), and give them all they
demanded.
_Fools!_
They had been living amongst the Boers for so long, and ought to
have known that, while there was life, no Boer would give up the
much-treasured and dearly-bought liberty of the nation.
Strange that these reformers (?) should have run their noses against a
wall, without first making sure that the wall would give way without
hurting their precious noses. But now, when the mischief was done,
they seemed to realise _their_ danger, and began to stop and consider.
Now, when Jameson was fighting for life or death in their cause. Now,
when thousands of poor women and children had fled from the scene in
destitution and want. Now, when the veld along the Vaal and beyond was
covered with these destitute, unprotected, unsheltered, barely-clothed
and starving women and children, and were depending for daily bread
on the very Boers whom the Reform Committee were trying to destroy.
Now, when many a home was in mourning and woe for loved ones lost at
that terrible railway accident at Glencoe, when a train, loaded with
fugitives from the Rand, was wrecked, causing the death of many a
mother, a father, a child, or some other loved one, while many a one
lived to bear some terrible mark of the accident for life. Now, when
the whole country was in commotion and disorder by their action. Now,
when the powers of Europe were glaring in distrust at each other, ready
to spring at each other’s throat, and cause endless war and bloodshed.
Now, when (worst of all for South Africa) a bitter and insatiable race
hatred has been started anew in the whole of South Africa. Now only, I
say, the few scheming, plotting and unscrupulous persons who had caused
all this, began to bethink themselves, and now only, because they began
to see that their own precious hides were beginning to be in danger,
and followed in the footsteps of their leader, C. Leonard. They may
plead that they stopped to avoid further bloodshed; but why have they
started shedding blood at all? Why first invite a foreign force to
invade the country on their behalf, and then desert their accomplices?
No, all excuse is vain, they knew exactly what they were doing when
they began their guilty plots to rob a nation of freedom and country;
and they knew (unless they were idiots, and fit inmates for the lunatic
asylum) what to expect. The only sensible thing the Reform Committee
ever did was, when Jameson was a prisoner and the whole mess was
spoiled, to accept defeat and lay down their arms. (I am not referring
to the time when they concluded the armistice, while Jameson’s fate was
undecided, but the following week, when they laid down their arms, as
we shall see farther on).
But the great guilt of the Reform Committee lay in their ever having
taken up arms, and in ever having plotted to light the torch of civil
war, with no other object than to throw the South African Republic into
the arms of Rhodes. As to the professed object of the revolution and
the demands contained in the manifesto, we shall take occasion a little
farther on to show how much--or how little--cause there was for the
taking up of arms.
CHAPTER XVIII
PRETORIA DURING THE CRISIS
Pretoria, as became the capital of the State, followed in the footsteps
of the Government, and kept calm and cool during all this bustle
and uproar in Johannesburg. It is true there were a few hot-headed,
ignorant young men (late arrivals mostly) who talked big amongst
themselves, and said that the time had come for England to step in and
again take possession of the Transvaal; but it was noticed that these
young men either kept out of the way of, or were very quiet in the
presence of, the Burghers or Afrikanders generally. But the majority
of, in fact nearly all, the inhabitants of Pretoria were very orderly
and quiet. There were those who in their inmost hearts wished for
Jameson’s and Johannesburg’s success, and even said so at first; but
as soon as information of Jameson’s defeat was received, even these
became Government supporters and sympathisers--at least so they said
(?). But from the first the leading inhabitants and public men gave
the Government to understand that all their influence would be given
to support law and order; and on the arrival of the news that the
country was being invaded by Chartered troops, the inhabitants held a
meeting, at the suggestion of a leading citizen, and resolved to form
themselves into a vigilant corps, to protect life and keep order. This
was done. Every man of whatsoever nationality became a member of the
corps, and did duty night and day, patrolling the streets and vicinity
of the town. All this was done under the orders and with the assistance
of the authorities, thus showing the good understanding between the
Government and the inhabitants of Pretoria.
The Jingo papers, or rather those belonging to the association
mentioned before, waxed bolder and bolder, as they saw the evident
danger of the State. The Johannesburg papers, antagonistic to the
Government, seemed to think that the Government would be unable to
punish them now or hereafter, and preached almost open sedition; and a
certain Pretoria paper was by no means far behind in this respect.
The rebels were encouraged to persevere, and those who refused to join
the malcontents, were incited to join. The Government was abused and
reviled more than before. According to these papers, the chances of
the Boers to defend themselves were _nil_; while the success of the
invaders and rebels was assured. With what courage these papers spoke
up _now_, for they rightly considered that the Government had no time
to waste looking after them, or punishing sedition preached in their
columns.
But what a change came over these papers when Jameson was in prison
with his officers and men and the Reform Committee had surrendered
unconditionally? Now there was no abuse. Now the _dirty_ Boers were
heard of no more. But everything was ‘_our_ Government,’ ‘_our_
Burghers,’ the ‘_powerholders_,’ all said and written in a most
respectful manner; while in the place of the threats uttered a few
days before, now nothing was heard but a plea for _mercy_. The papers
were filled with articles pointing out to the Government what grand
and unprecedented opportunities of displaying their wonted mercy
presented itself. Truly it was a sudden and even ludicrous change of
face, causing many a smile of amusement on the face of the impartial
observer. But this amiability did not last long. As soon as things
quieted down, and the anger of the Burghers had subsided, these
cowardly libellers resumed their dirty work, as we shall have occasion
to observe farther on. Those who happened to be in Pretoria when the
news arrived on the Monday that Jameson was invading the country
at the head of eight hundred Chartered troopers, will remember how
unexpected and hardly credited the news was. It was so unexpected, and
even improbable, that few could be found to believe the news--even
the Government, it is said, would not believe the news wired to them
from their own officials at Marico--that ‘Jameson was marching on to
Johannesburg, and that he refused to turn back.’ The Government wired
for confirmation of the news; and it was so definitely confirmed that
the authorities were forced to believe it and take the necessary action.
And now the grand military system of the country was displayed to full
advantage. On the Monday afternoon information was received of the
invasion. Every Burgher was living peacefully and unsuspectingly on his
farm, without the least idea that his country was in danger, or that
a foreign foe had already invaded the country. And yet, forty hours
after the information was received at Pretoria, a commando had already
intercepted Jameson’s force, and had forced him to turn from his
contemplated course, and in three days he was surrounded and compelled
to surrender ignominiously.
Even this was eclipsed by the further mobilisation of the Burghers,
for, before the week was ended, eight thousand Burghers were in
the neighbourhood of Johannesburg awaiting the orders of the
Commandant-General to attack, in case the rebellion was pushed, while
in and around Pretoria a like number or more were encamped.
The excitement for the next few days was intense; every moment seemed
fraught with the gravest results. News from the seat of war was
anxiously awaited. The office of _The Press_, which seemed to be the
best informed of what was going on, was besieged day and night for
news. The wildest reports were flying around, and when reliable news
did come, one hardly knew whether to believe it or not.
An amusing incident was noticed during the day when news from
Krugersdorp was most intensely desired.
Some boys, who seemed to have grasped the situation with juvenile
sagacity, got hold of a pile of blank sheets of paper of the size
and shape generally used by newspapers on which to issue special and
extraordinary telegrams during the day. These special telegrams were
eagerly awaited, and even fought for, by the public during these days
of excitement. These youngsters had noticed this, and with their
blank sheets of paper in their hand, walked about _à la_ newspaper
boys, shouting, ‘News from the war. One hundred people killed. Great
slaughter amongst the enemy,’ or anything else they could think of to
excite the people.
To give a single instance of the result. A dignified, portly and very
conscious young man was strolling down Church Street. But, in spite
of his dignity, black suit, shining boots, and bell topper hat, even
he forgot himself sufficiently for a moment to eagerly run after one
of these boys and snatch one of these supposed special telegrams from
him. Several bystanders, who had already been caught themselves by
the youngsters, were watching the scene with amusement. The dignified
young man, after having secured the much-desired telegram (?), walked
composedly to one side of the sidewalk, settled his eyeglasses
carefully on his nose, and prepared to read the startling news, as
declared by the amateur newspaper boys. Those who were watching the
party in question saw a look of astonishment upon the expressive
countenance of the Pretoria dude, followed by an expression of intense
disgust and anger, as, on looking after the laughing youngsters, he
saw them put their hands in front of their noses in a most impressive
manner. Of course everybody laughed, while the young man looked as if
he would like to punish the boys with his walking-stick. But, on second
thoughts, he seemed to think that it would be too undignified, and
instead, walked away, expressing his disgust at the laughter of the
bystanders by the haughty erectness of his head.
While everybody was anxious and excited, the Government seemed never to
lose the calm even tenor of its ways. Amidst the greatest danger and
anxiety, the President and Commandant-General never for a single moment
lost confidence in their ability to uphold their position, or to defend
their country against the threatening danger.
Even when the Middleburg commando asked the President to proclaim
martial law, the President remained calm and moderate, and told his
Burghers that there was no necessity for such extreme measures,
and that all that was necessary could be done without unduly
inconveniencing the public.
After all the excitement and anxiety on the part of the public, the
reader can imagine what a relief it was to hear of the surrender of
Jameson and his band of _Freebooters_. It was as if a heavy burden had
rolled off the minds of the public. Those few who did not wish it,
would not believe in Jameson’s surrender, and would only acknowledge
the fact when they saw the invaders brought into Pretoria as prisoners.
But these were only a few--enemies to the country, to liberty and
justice. They were of the class of humanity (?) who would sacrifice
everything to attain their own selfish wishes, or to satisfy their
unjust prejudice.
CHAPTER XIX
POSSIBILITIES AND PROBABILITIES
Steve and the rest of the guard hurried their prisoners forward towards
Pretoria, as they feared a rescue. Rumours of such a rescue were not
wanting. During the night the guard received information that a party
of rebels had left Johannesburg, presumably to rescue Jameson. Proper
precautions were taken, but it proved unnecessary. Johannesburg had
evidently had enough of fighting (?).
Many stories have been circulated of the bravery (?) of the
Johannesburg soldiers. It is told how bands of volunteers left the
golden city with the avowed object of teaching the Boers a lesson, and
of relieving or rescuing Jameson. But it is also told how these martial
bands did not proceed far beyond the suburbs of the town, having seen
what to their terror-stricken eyes appeared to be parties of Boers, but
what proved later on to have been either troops of their own cattle or
parties from their own city.
However, the prisoners were all safely brought into Pretoria, without
any attempt at rescue. The men were encamped on the racecourse about
a quarter-of-a-mile out of town, under guard, while the officers were
kept in safer quarters in what is locally known as _The Government
Hotel_, and there they were kept until the authorities had decided what
should be done with them, and until they were ultimately sent by rail
to the Natal border and handed over to the Imperial Authorities.
Steve was now once more at home. He was surprised, even though he
expected something of the sort, to see the squares and outskirts of
Pretoria covered with the tents and waggons of the various commandos,
and his heart swelled with pride and joy as he viewed the brave men,
who at a moment’s notice had left all and hurried in answer to the call
of duty to defend country and liberty.
He took frequent walks out amongst the various commandos, and made many
friends amongst the Burghers, unknown to him up to now. He found them,
unless excited by remarks of recent events, in a happy and frolicsome
mood. ‘Just like a troop of happy children out for a holiday,’ as he
remarked to a friend. The Burgher out on commando is always full of
fun and frolic when off duty or guard. Various games of skill and
strength are indulged in during the day, while the evenings are spent
in reminiscences of the past: stories of Kaffir campaigns, of the war
against England, and of the hunting field, passes round. The younger
men would sit and listen attentively and respectfully as their elders
related adventures, dangers and difficulties experienced during the
early years of the _voortrekkers_. The old men would feel young again
as they told of the dangers of the chase; of how they hunted the
elephant, the lion, the buffalo, the rhinoceros, in the days when such
game roamed the country in plenty, and could be found almost without
searching for. How the young men regretted their ill-fortune, which
caused them to be born too late to participate in such stirring times.
How they wished that they might have lived fifty years ago instead
of in these tame, prosaic days, when one had to take a three months’
journey to see a rhinoceros or a lion, and when an elephant could only
be seen in a circus show.
* * * * *
It is Monday night, 6th of January 1896. It is the night when the great
National Union meeting should have been held under the chairmanship
of Charles Leonard. The meeting is being held, but only a committee
meeting; but alas and alack Charles Leonard is not here to take the
chair. Charles Leonard is in Cape Town. Poor Charles Leonard. The body
may have been willing, but the heart was _too_ faint. Such is ever
the fate of braggarts. While danger is yet far away, great deeds are
talked of--then the braggart is a hero; and, alas for human credulity,
the braggart will always find those who will believe in him. It is
not everybody who can read the heart of man in his face, or from his
tongue, and, least of all, the _public_. How easily the PUBLIC--the
_people_--as a whole, will allow a boasting, a glib-tongued, plausible
braggart to lead them by the nose. How disgusting it is for a student
of human nature to see a man thus lead a crowd of credulous people to
believe in him, to make a hero of him, to accept his statements for
gospel, and all because the man has a plausible appearance and can TALK.
Johannesburg for a time believed in Charles Leonard!
Now the National Union Committee, self-styled _Reform Committee_, by
others called the _deformed_ Committee, was holding a meeting--to do
what? To decide upon what they should do in reply to President Kruger’s
ultimatum, in which they were given twenty-four hours to lay down their
arms and surrender unconditionally.
But the meeting is strictly private; it is not for the public to hear
the bitter recriminations amongst the Committee because of blunders and
mistakes of the few leaders, nor the regrets of those who had allowed
themselves to be flattered into joining a movement which, in their
hearts, they knew to be wrong and condemnable; therefore we shall not
report the proceedings, but content ourselves that we shall know the
result of their deliberations soon, within twenty-four hours.
After Steve had safely conducted the prisoners into their place of
confinement, his first act was to report himself as ready for duty, in
case of need, to his own field cornet, after which he went home, had a
bath, and a good sleep before tea-time.
The members of the amateur debating society are gathered together once
more. The debate goes on every night now. The burning questions of
the day are eagerly discussed, and everyone present airs his views of
what _ought_ to be done, what _he_ would do if he had the control of
affairs. Truly the amount of wisdom (?) wasted in this manner is really
alarming. It is a pity that the wisdom, knowledge and statescraft
exhausted in this private and useless manner could not be bottled
up and labelled, to be used as occasion requires. Such bottled-up
knowledge may even become a marketable commodity, if some great
inventor would only find out how it is to be preserved. Edison might
take the hint one of these days.
How easy it would make it for public men and statesmen to buy a little
wisdom on certain subjects, especially when in a dilemma. How easy it
would be, say, for Mr Chamberlain to buy a bottle of wisdom on ‘Home
Rule for the Rand,’ or for President Cleveland on ‘Venezuela Affairs,’
or for President Kruger on ‘How to deal with the Uitlanders,’ or for
Charles Leonard on ‘The safest way to play the game of doubling on the
hounds,’ or for Rhodes on ‘How to make the Afrikander Bond an Imperial
bond (to make him Emperor?),’ or even on ‘How to make Rhodesia pay.’ So
many uses could be found for such bottled wisdom and knowledge.
Of course, I know that books and papers generally serve as bottles to
contain and preserve much of this same wisdom and knowledge, but so
much of it goes to waste, so few have the opportunity or means to so
preserve their own knowledge.
We will at least preserve a little of the knowledge and statescraft
exuded at this evening’s conversation in the sitting-room of Steve’s
boarding-house. It will, at least, serve to show the tendency of public
feeling during this time, when public feeling ran high.
‘Hillo, Steve! Well, I am hanged! is it yourself or your spirit I see?
Well, at least, your hand feels mortal enough.’ It was Harrison who
spoke, shaking Steve heartily by the hand.
‘Well, I _am_ glad to see you chaps again,’ said Steve, as he shook
hands all round, ‘and you too, Keith, old fellow? When did you return,
I did not expect to see you here before to-morrow.’
‘Oh, when you were gone, we did not seem to enjoy ourselves, so we
returned; we have been here since Friday.’
‘You are very flattering to pretend that you value my company so
much. Of course, you were curious to know what was going on here, and
therefore you returned,’ said Steve, laughing.
‘Well, I suppose you are partly right; we could hardly stay there
quietly in the veld without news, while we knew that history was
being made at the rate of a hundred miles an hour, and as you had
_skedaddled_, we soon followed suit, only we came in an orderly and
comfortable way, and did not start on _shank’s_ pony as you did,’
replied Keith.
‘I suppose you returned by the way you went. Well, I think every man
to his taste. I wanted to be in at the death; you preferred a more
quiet, neutral position. I don’t blame you; every man must do as his
conscience tells him.’
‘And how did you fare, Steve? You might give us a relation of your
adventures,’ begged Harrison.
Steve gave a rough outline of his adventures since he left the party
on the Vaal River, and when he told them that he was present at, and
participated in, the Battle of Doornkop, he was plied with questions
from all sides, to which he replied as best and as modestly as he could.
‘How many Boers were there against Jameson, Joubert?’ queried a late
arrival (who was also a professed Boer hater), named Hastings. Steve
had noticed his antagonism towards the Government of the country, and
was not at all well disposed towards him.
‘Well, if you wish to know how many Boers were or are against Jameson,
I could not tell you exactly; but if I had a copy of the last census
papers I might be able to give you some idea of the number. If it will
help you, however, I may tell you that _every_ Boer or Afrikander (as
we call them) in South Africa is against Jameson.’
The others present laughed at this little sally of Steve’s.
‘Of course, you know, I don’t mean who is against him in principle,
I mean how many Boers (or Afrikanders as you prefer to call them)
_fought_ against Jameson.’
‘Oh, why did you not say so then? Well, I will draw it as mild as
possible,’ said Steve, with some sarcasm, which he could hardly
conceal, ‘so as to save your feelings; for if I were to give you the
exact number, you would not believe me and would think I was trying to
bluff you. Well, there were no more than one hundred Boers actually
fighting against Jameson and his band at the Battle of Doornkop.’
‘Bah! you must think I am a green ’un. Do you think I will believe that
one hundred Boers could defeat eight hundred drilled English troops,
and armed with artillery too? Tell it to the marines.’
‘Oh, so you _do_ call them English troops?’ asked Steve.
‘Well, of course, they are not Imperial troops actually, but they are
mostly Englishmen, and have been drilled and disciplined by English
officers, and on the English principle, but are not British troops.’
‘Oh, I see, that means, of course, that if they had succeeded, and had
subjugated the Transvaal with the assistance of Johannesburg, they
would have been English or even Imperial troops, and would have been
honoured and owned by England; now that they have been defeated, of
course, they are only an irresponsible band of British subjects, for
whom and whose deeds nobody is responsible. I have even heard that some
Englishmen assert that Jameson’s men are really mostly Afrikanders,
that is because they have been defeated.’
‘But, Steve,’ said Harrison, ‘do you really mean to say that one
hundred Boers actually defeated Jameson?’
‘I will swear that no _more_ than one hundred Boers took part in the
Battle of Doornkop; that would be on the safe side, for I _know_ that
there were less,’ said Steve. ‘Of course, there were nearly or fully a
thousand Burghers in the vicinity of Krugersdorp, but they were all too
far away to take part in the fight. Some parties of them were guarding
the various roads, so that if Jameson did escape at Doornkop he would
have been pulled up at some other spot. Others again were watching the
road to Johannesburg, so that if Johannesburg _did_ send any help to
Jameson, _they_ would have had somebody to look after them before they
could join forces with the invaders. And lastly, as a matter of fact,
a party of Burghers was preparing to take Jameson by storm, and was
only prevented from doing so by Jameson’s hoisting the white flag and
surrendering.’
‘Very interesting and spicy indeed,’ remarked Hastings in an ironical,
unbelieving way.
‘Yes, indeed, and in spite of the spice, hardly to the taste of some
people,’ retorted Steve.
‘Well, your Government has managed to overcome Jameson, as I believe,
by force of numbers, and because Jameson’s men were starved, fatigued
and out of ammunition; but it remains to be seen whether the same game
can be played with Johannesburg, which is prepared and well armed and
provisioned. That will be a nut too hard for your Government’s knuckles
to crack.’
‘To answer your first assertion first. I have already stated that
Jameson really had the force of numbers at Doornkop. As to being
starved, they had, as I happen to know from their own men, plenty of
provisions, and found at regular intervals buildings placed there for
the purpose, in which provisions in plenty for man and horse were
found. In fact, one man told me they found tables laid ready and laden
with food; they had only to sit down and eat. As to fatigue, the
majority of the Burghers travelled as far in half the time as Jameson’s
troopers did, and that without preparation and without much provision.
The assertion that the Chartered troops were out of ammunition when
they surrendered is the most foolish of all; for I can tell you that
the Government took a rich booty in ammunition alone. In fact, more
ammunition was taken from Jameson, than the Boers possessed when they
began the war against England in 1880.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ asserted Hastings.
‘Well, I can say this much, if Steve says it is so, and that he saw it
himself, I will believe it, for I have never known him to tell a lie,’
said Keith.
‘I don’t believe Steve _can_ tell a lie,’ approved Harrison.
Steve went on, as if he was unconscious of the interruption. He never
lost his temper.
‘As to Johannesburg, I am not a betting man, but I am willing to go
a little bet that Johannesburg won’t fight. If Johannesburg cared to
face the Burgher forces, she would hardly have allowed Jameson to be
defeated and captured without at least an effort to rescue and assist
him. No, my boy, Johannesburg has no fighting men. It is all bluff. Of
course, there are a few brave men in Johannesburg, who, for a righteous
cause, would certainly be able to give a good account of themselves.
But brave men would hardly consent to be lead by a Leonard or such as
he. No. I will tell you the position in a few words.
‘The great amalgamator wanted to amalgamate the Transvaal and Rhodesia
for the sake of the Rand goldfields. The plan of campaign was to send a
few men to the Rand to preach rebellion and revolution.
‘The next thing would be to strengthen the Rand people by sending
outside help, for the Rand by itself could do but little, and, besides,
would not always be willing to do exactly as ordered by their would-be
leaders. The best outside help at hand was obtainable from Rhodesia; by
sending troops from Rhodesia, which really is British territory, would
embroil England in the matter, and thus England would be forced to
take a hand in the game. It was hoped that if England once took a hand
in the game, she would play to suit the cards of her only great privy
councillor in South Africa. Now the outside help has been nipped in the
bud and England is disowning the whole plot (of course it having failed
so far). Thus Johannesburg is isolated and divided amongst themselves,
one party being for revolution, one party being for the present
Government. Do you see any chance for the Reform Committee to continue
their foolish plot? Say, now, for instance, they did persist in trying
their strength against the Government. In a week the Government would
lay Johannesburg in ruins, or if the Government wanted to be merciful
and spare the innocents in the town, in three months they would be
starved out if they were not driven to surrender by thirst long before
then. No, Johannesburg could stand neither a siege nor an attack from
the Burghers. Their only hope for success (England) has failed them.’
‘How do you know that England may not even yet take a hand in the game
on her own account? The Transvaal is a blot on the face of the South
African map as far as England is concerned, and it has been believed
all along that England has only been waiting for an excuse to step in
and once more take possession of the country.’
‘Well, I do not believe England will try such a trick. Firstly, because
I believe England as a power and Englishmen as a nation have yet some
honour left. Secondly, even if England did wish to forget honour and
treaty obligations, not to speak of right, justice and the right of
nations. I say, even if England did wish to do so, I believe she _dare_
not do so. She dares not, because the glaring injustice would arouse
the world against her. It would be an injustice more glaring than
the Armenian atrocities even, for from the Turks everybody expects
injustice, oppression and cruelty, while from England one would expect
at least common justice. From England one would expect that she would
recognise her own treaties, for England is supposed to be, and has
always been believed to be, a highly civilised power. England is a
Christian country, and England is governed on Christian principles.
Should England forget her old traditions of fairplay, justice and
honour, the rest of the world would pull her up much sharper than they
would Turkey.
‘Then leaving out the rest of the world, England would have her hands
fairly full in South Africa alone, should she enter upon such an
unjust war. If she fights the Transvaal under present circumstances,
she would have to fight the Free State, which has already called
out a portion of her Burghers to be ready in case of emergency. She
would have to fight the entire Afrikander nation in South Africa,
including many Uitlanders, or people of foreign birth, and even many
Englishman of long residence in South Africa who have learned to value
self-government and deprecate Downing Street Government.’
‘Why, _do_ you believe for a moment that the whole Afrikander nation
could beat England?’
‘I believe that if England were FREE, and willing to put out her full
strength against the Afrikander nation, that she would conquer in the
end, for every Afrikander Burgher killed would leave a vacancy in their
ranks; while, if one British soldier is killed, two could always be
found to take his place. But even if England is able to put out her
full might against us, it would be a long and bloody struggle. For
every Burgher killed three or four British soldiers would bite the
dust. In his native land, and amongst his native hills and mountains,
the Boer can take long odds against himself. Then the fight will be
on land and not on the sea, where England is supreme. Then again the
Boers will always choose their own battlefield, and you ought to know
by this time that a Boer knows how to choose a battlefield to his
own advantage. The British forces would only be attacked where their
superior numbers and arms would be of no advantage. In short, it would
be a warfare on the guerrilla system, in which the Boers excel all
other nations, and by the time England had conquered the Afrikanders
(if she did conquer them), which will only be when at least half of
them have been killed; by the time she had conquered them, I say,
thousands, if not tens of thousands, of English soldiers will have
perished in the South African veld by the bullet or by starvation.
Now, I come to the chief reason why England does not _dare_ to
undertake such an unjust war, or rather I should say, why the English
_Government_ does not dare to do so: And that is because the British
people, being a free people, with a voice in their own Government,
would never allow their Government to undertake such a cruel--to
both sides--and unjust war, and have thousands of their soldiers and
relatives killed, all to please a few grasping millionaires such as
Rhodes and Beit, or a few conspiring, speculating attorneys, etc., who
wish to obtain power as well as riches.’
Steve became quite eloquent in his earnestness.
‘Do you think, then, that England will leave everything to the Boers
to do as they think fit? Will she, do you think, allow your Government
to shoot down her subjects in Johannesburg, without giving them aid?
or if Johannesburg surrenders to the ultimatum, unconditionally, would
England allow the Boers to shoot the Reform Committee as rebels, which
would probably be done if nothing was done to prevent it?’
‘If it were done, it would only be what they deserve. But it will
_not_ be done, at least, not without a fair trial. You may be sure the
Government is not going to do anything rash, and sacrifice all the
advantages they have obtained. Everything will be done legally and
according to the laws of the country.’
‘It remains to be seen,’ said Hastings, walking out whistling, giving
Steve to understand that he had had enough argument for once.
CHAPTER XX
JOHANNESBURG SURRENDERS UNCONDITIONALLY--HOME RULE FOR THE RAND
The following day being Tuesday and the day during which the
Johannesburg malcontents would decide whether they would surrender or
fight, everybody was on the tenter hooks of expectation and anxiety to
know what would be decided.
The High Commissioner, who had been in Pretoria since Saturday the
4th January, had recommended the Reform Committee to surrender to the
Government, as it was useless for them to attempt a struggle. Sir
Jacobus de Wet, the British agent, had advised the British subjects to
return to ways of peace and order.
The Reform Committee might have wished to proceed to extremes, but they
saw that they had not a leg to stand upon. No more outside help could
be hoped for. The High Commissioner had acted honourably and in good
faith to the Government of the South African Republic, and in the only
way he could act without sacrificing British honour. He had assured the
malcontents that they could not expect British aid if they went beyond
the pale of the law.
Being unable to obtain outside help, and as even the majority of
Johannesburg refused to fight except those who received one pound
sterling a day, the Reform Committee did the only thing left them to
do, and surrendered unconditionally to the Government.
Of course they did not acknowledge that they surrendered because they
could not do anything else, and because they knew that with Jameson’s
defeat their whole plot had failed. No, they only surrendered to please
the High Commissioner, and as they would not fight (to please the High
Commissioner), they declared that they expected the High Commissioner
to fight for them and obtain for them their demands. In fact, they
shifted the whole responsibility of past, present and future on to the
High Commissioner, and consequently on to the Imperial Government. When
Steve heard of the surrender he threw up his hat and shouted hurrah,
and ran to the telegraph office and sent the following telegram to his
mother:--
‘DEAR MOTHER,--Johannesburg has surrendered unconditionally.
South Africa may reckon on some years of peace again; no fear of
further disturbances.’
Foolish Steve. He did not think that England _would_ interfere after
all and keep the country in a state of unrest and uncertainty for
months after, through holding out hopes to the discontented that she
would force the Government to accede to their demands.
This uncertainty was kept up for months, and this uncertainty obtains
to this very day when I write this (15th April 1896). England took
it upon herself, after everybody thought that all was settled, and
after the President had already promised certain privileges to the
discontented, to dictate to the South African Republic what she should
do and what she should not do, and this in contradiction to the London
Convention, which she had only just declared she would uphold in its
entirety.
It is true that Mr Chamberlain sent what he called friendly advice
only, but everybody knew that it was intended to be taken as a demand.
And how was this advice sent?
Mr Chamberlain, Secretary of State for the Colonies, drew up a long
despatch in which he raked up long forgotten incidents of South African
history. He reminded President Kruger of past friendliness shown by
England to the Transvaal and Afrikanders. But he forgot to mention one
incident of the overwhelming number of times that England had acted in
an unfriendly and even unjust manner. He reminded the Government of
the South African Republic that England had shown mercy in Bechuanaland
to certain Afrikanders who had resisted English pretensions there. But
Mr Chamberlain forgot to mention Slachtersnek, where Boers were hung
like felons on a gallows for resisting England. He forgot to mention
Boomplaats, where Boers again were shot--murdered--for fighting for
their own country and for hard-earned freedom.
Mr Chamberlain did not remind President Kruger that the Government of
the South African Republic was in possession of a certain document (for
which Piet Retief and forty of his comrades gave their lives) by which
they could prove that Natal belongs to the Boers by every just claim
and by every law of nations.
Mr Chamberlain did not remind President Kruger that England took from
the Free State Boers the richest diamond mine in the world, and, out
of a remnant of shame, forced the Free State to take £90,000 for the
Kimberley diamond mines--£90,000 for what is worth £90,000,000. But if
it was worth 90 pence, every country has the right to keep what it has,
without being forced to sell it. Alas no, Mr Chamberlain was not shamed
into telling President Kruger that England had persecuted and oppressed
the Boers for the last ninety years; he did not ask the President to
heap coals of fire on the heads of the British nation by showing the
magnanimity to the British subjects that Britain refused the Boers.
Mr Chamberlain capped his despatch by _advising_ (?) President Kruger
to give Johannesburg a variety of _Home Rule_. Alas, the inconsistency
of man. Mr Chamberlain, who is a Unionist, and opponent of Home Rule
for Ireland, advises the South African Republic to give Home Rule to
Johannesburg.
Johannesburg is a town in the heart of the South African Republic,
inhabited by a mining community of all nationalities in the world, a
large proportion of whom are British subjects. And for the sake of the
British subjects in Johannesburg the district is to be isolated and
Home Rule given to it, while Ireland is a country inhabited by a great
nation, who are living in their own native land, and who are kept down
by force of arms. To this nation, unjustly conquered by England long
ago, and kept under ever after only by England’s military strength, to
this nation Home Rule is refused by Mr Chamberlain and his party. By
what moral right can Mr Chamberlain demand, or even advise, the South
African Republic to grant Home Rule to Johannesburg? I have heard
somewhere a very useful adage, ‘Sweep in front of your own door before
you sweep in front of your neighbour’s door.’ Very homely, but to the
point, and really I would recommend it to Mr Chamberlain’s study.
This interference in our internal affairs by Mr Chamberlain, or rather
this advice as to our internal affairs by Mr Chamberlain, would have
been received with gratitude and thanks, if it had been given, as
advice _ought_ to be given, viz., privately and confidentially, but
Mr Chamberlain was playing to the Jingo gallery. In truth, it was not
meant for honest advice, it was done to please the friends of the
Chartered Company, and to do this more effectually Mr Chamberlain, in
contradiction to all diplomatic usages and etiquette, published his
_advice_ (?) to President Kruger in London before despatching the same
to its destination.
We shall show farther on how this _advice_ (?) was received in Pretoria.
CHAPTER XXI
THE CHARTERED PRESS AGAIN--JONAH!
And who were the people for whom Mr Chamberlain was asking Home Rule?
For people who ever since they entered the country have openly
abused the Government, have tried in every way to abuse the freedom
and liberty they enjoy in this country, by libelling and traducing
the people and Government of the country. People who stood up in open
rebellion against the Government, people who did not scruple to call
in a band of foreign freebooters to help them to raise an unjust
revolution. A people whose leaders openly declared that they had thirty
thousand rifles to carry on the rebellion, and when they had solemnly
promised to give up all arms gave up two thousand five hundred. Who
did those leaders deceive? Did they deceive their followers when they
declared they possessed thirty thousand rifles? or did they deceive the
Government when they declared they possessed only two thousand five
hundred?
These people had come to the Transvaal to make money. They had made
fabulous fortunes out of Transvaal soil. And to show their gratitude
to the Government of the country, who had fostered them and protected
their industry, and had done everything possible to please them and
prosper them, they evinced their gratitude by maturing the vilest
plot known to history to overthrow this Government. This much for the
rebels. On the other hand, the people for whom Mr Chamberlain asked
Home Rule, ridiculed his proposal and would have no more of his home
rule than they wanted of Downing Street rule. Those who were not
satisfied with the Boer rule simply wanted to rule themselves, not
only in Johannesburg, but the whole country. If they could not get the
franchise, by which they could get to rule the whole country, then they
would not have any rule at all other than they have now.
Then what would Mr Chamberlain do with the large proportion, if not
the majority, of the inhabitants of Johannesburg, who are, and have
always been satisfied with the present Government. _They_ would have
no other Government than their own legitimate Government. But the
whole proposal is so ridiculous that it would be foolish to discuss it
further here. We shall proceed with our story. The utter ridiculousness
of giving Home Rule to Johannesburg must be apparent to everyone who
knows the state of affairs, and those who do not know have only to read
this story to the end and they will see for themselves what the Jingo
element in Johannesburg is composed of.
Now as regards the reception of Mr Chamberlain’s Home Rule Despatch. We
have already stated that the _people_ of Johannesburg ridiculed it. But
the Jingoes received it with joy.
‘Now at last,’ thought they, ‘England is committed; and either the
South African Republic must knuckle under and do as the Secretary of
State demands, or--fight Great Britain; once more “Rule Britannia” is
sung with gusto. Mr Chamberlain has restarted, or very nearly so, the
gassing and warlike talk of Jingoism. It will not be his fault if the
peace is not broken once more.’
Now what will the Government of the South African Republic do? Will it
brave the anger of the British Lion? or will it knuckle down and beg?
No! Once more the calm, manly and firm old man, the President of the
Transvaal, stands to his guns, and fearlessly sends the Secretary of
State for the Colonies of Great Britain a dignified, friendly, but
_firm_ reply, in which the assertions of Mr Chamberlain are fairly
refuted, and the right of England to interfere in the internal affairs
of the South African Republic totally and distinctly denied.
At last the Jingoes rejoice, and many a firm friend of the Republic
holds his breath in anticipation of disaster to its liberties. The
President has thrown down the gauntlet, and England cannot but take it
up and force the Transvaal at the point of the bayonet to accede to its
unjust demands, or maybe to take away its freedom from the Transvaal
altogether. Many began to make their preparations anew for the great
struggle they thought they saw inevitable. But what was the surprise
to many, disappointment to some, and joy to others, when the cables
brought the news that England had quietly and tamely received President
Kruger’s lesson in etiquette to Mr Chamberlain, and calm request to
‘mind your own business.’ Such was indeed the case, for Mr Chamberlain
declared, in the House of Commons, that he had no intention to press
the acceptance of his _suggestion_ on President Kruger. Once more PEACE
seemed possible and probable. Once more the rival factions argued their
various contentions with a calmer and more dignified spirit. Only the
Chartered Press in South Africa and in England raged louder and louder
as peace became probable. It seemed as if Mr Rhodes was aware that the
only hope he had for his actions to be passed over or condoned was in
war--war at any price, was consequently the cry of the Chartered Press.
For if war with Great Britain brought to a successful issue Mr Rhodes’
scheme, viz., the suppression of the Transvaal Republic, then Mr Rhodes
might reasonably hope that no inquiry would be held as to what part
he had in the plot. Such an inquiry must be averted at any price if
possible; for such an inquiry meant that light will be thrown on many
a dark deed and conspiracy in the past life of the arch conspirator
and his partners and subordinates. Such an inquiry would show that
the trusted high official, Privy Councillor to the Queen, and Prime
Minister of an important British colony, managing director of a large
territory (ruled under a British Charter), had betrayed his trust in
every case, and had brought dishonour upon his Queen and country; and
would bring to the light of day the names of partners in the plot,
never suspected, or, if suspected, only whispered as yet.
To avert such an inquiry then, all the influence of _gold_, power,
position and birth, of Rhodes and his friends were brought to bear on
newspapers, great and small; on Government officials, and even the
ministry in power in England, to avert the dreaded inquiry--honour and
truth even were sacrificed. Mr Rhodes totally denied all complicity in
the plot--at first. But in spite of his denial, all his actions proved
his guilt. His consciousness of guilt forced him to at once resign his
premiership of the Cape Colony. Then he slunk off to England to avoid
the reproachful looks of his betrayed fellow-ministers, and trusting
friends, and also to set in motion his hireling Press in England, to
defend or to justify, by hook or crook, his actions, and patch up his
wrecked reputation. But even in England his guilty conscience would not
let him rest; again he slunk off to the wilderness of Rhodesia that
time. But to avoid meeting his duped friends in Cape Town again, he
went _via_ the Red Sea this time. But the steamer that bore him refused
to carry such political guilt, and cast him like a Jonah forth to
proceed as best he might. Arrived in Rhodesia again, his advent seemed
to be the signal for a native rebellion; a rebellion which is raging
to this day (30th June 1896), and the consequences of which no one
can foresee, except that there seems to be a probability of many more
innocents being lost, in addition to the hundreds already lost, in the
struggle against the natives by the inhabitants--a struggle that was
caused solely through Mr Rhodes allowing the police forces, which ought
to have protected the country, to be sent on a filibustering expedition
against a friendly neighbour--a neighbour who, after being attacked in
a cowardly and dastardly way by the Chartered Company, offered to fight
the company’s battles against the Matabele out of sheer generosity and
pity for the innocent inhabitants; but more of this anon.
Mr Rhodes’ absence in Rhodesia did not prevent his agents from
continuing the newspaper fight against the Transvaal Government and
people. Mr Rhodes’ actions were excused in a hundred different ways.
Some denied his complicity in the plot altogether; while others, forced
to admit his guilt, said he did it to lay bare some fancied plot
between the Transvaal and Germany. In short, so many contradictory
excuses emanated from the Rhodesian Press and party that one excuse
confounded the other; but every impartial observer could see that
these excuses, one and all, were rotten to the core. There being no
defence that would stand the light of day, the Chartered combination of
hireling newspapers, headed by the _Times_ of London, saw that all they
could do was to abuse the other side, viz., the enemies of Mr Rhodes
and his company, and thus find an excuse in the bad (?) administration
of the South African Republic Government, giving forth that Mr Rhodes
sought to bring a better (?) government into existence in the Transvaal.
To obtain their object, viz., the old one of blackening the people of
the Transvaal and its Government, no expense of either money or truth
was spared. But they overreached themselves. The more they _lied_
the more their lies were exposed and proved to be untrue. To-day the
_Times_ would publish some telegram from Johannesburg, telling of
some imaginary wrong perpetrated by the Transvaal Government, but the
next day the assertion would be disproved by some authority not to be
denied. In short, so apparent was the untruth of their statements,
that the public soon learned to discredit all statements coming from
newspapers known to be Chartered. Even Mr Chamberlain felt constrained
to warn the public to accept with caution these interested wires from
Johannesburg.
We shall see farther on how the Transvaal Government triumphed against
all these truth-ignoring libellers.
CHAPTER XXII
OUT OF EVIL CAME GREAT GOOD TO THE TRANSVAAL
Verily, never was the saying realised to a fuller extent, that ‘out
of evil cometh good,’ than was the case with the Transvaal after the
events of January 1896. On New Year’s Day Stephen Joubert thought that
never was his country and people in greater peril than they then were.
And even though he hoped and trusted that they would at least escape
the extreme peril of national suppression and total loss of freedom,
yet he dared hardly hope that this great evil would bring forth great
good. He hardly hoped for the Transvaal to retain the full prestige and
strength that she possessed before the crisis. How great must his joy
now be, in common with his fellow-countrymen, to find his country’s
power, prestige and good name doubled and trebled since New Year’s Day.
First of all, he read with joy the cables announcing that his country
possessed the sympathy and goodwill of all the nations of the civilised
world. He saw that Germany, France and Russia, especially the former,
were determined to see the Transvaal’s independence maintained. He saw
that the German Emperor sent a cable of congratulation to President
Kruger that left no doubt of his opinion. Indeed, his opinion was
expressed so plainly that England feared German interference, and sent
a flying squadron to Delagoa Bay, to prevent Germany from landing
troops at that port to aid the Transvaal--_a fool’s errand_.
Transvaal never asked for German or any European aid!
After the Transvaal Government had foregone its just right of punishing
Jameson and his men, and had most magnanimously given them up to
the British Government to be punished according to British law, the
Transvaal acquired a new (?) virtue in the opinion of the world. The
enemies of the Boers had always described them to be of a savage and
cruel nature. Now the world saw a practical demonstration of the fact
that the Boers were Christians! Christians as well in deed as in name.
For they had shown mercy to those who had refused mercy to them and
theirs. But even this act of mercy was not recognised by the enemies
of the Republic. Motives of policy were ascribed to this act by the
Chartered Press. Not even all those who were the recipients of this
mercy were grateful for the mercy received. One of them wrote to the
papers that the President had no alternative but to spare their lives,
as they had not surrendered unconditionally, but that their lives
had been promised on the field of battle. We have already shown that
their lives were only safeguarded until handed over to the Government
in Pretoria, and that the Government would then decide as to their
ultimate fate. But even if it were granted that their lives had been
promised in full, their liberties were still in the hands of the
Transvaal Government, and for that liberty, which they had forfeited,
they might at least have shown some gratitude. But gratitude does not
seem to be part of the constitution of filibusters, even when the
filibusters are of good birth and position.
However, if all the prisoners were not grateful, and did not recognise
the mercy shown, the world did. Even the Queen of England gave her
subjects a lesson in gratitude by thanking President Kruger for the
mercy shown to the prisoners. The South African Republic had taken
another step higher in the estimation of the world.
Steve now saw his countrymen holding the happy reputation of being
patriotic, brave, fearless and merciful. Soon he saw his Government
slowly acquiring a greater reputation still--that of possessing great
diplomatic skill. Mr Chamberlain is supposed to be one of the most
skilful of statesmen and diplomatists, and yet it soon became apparent
to the world that he had found his match in President Kruger. It
was like a skilful game of cards. It is true that President Kruger
possessed the better hand, but it is also true that he played his cards
with marvellous skill and precision, while it cannot be denied that Mr
Chamberlain weakened his hand considerably by several false moves.
Mr Chamberlain has one grand excuse for his want of success so far to
outwit President Kruger, and that is that President Kruger is working
in a just and holy cause, while Mr Chamberlain is trying to uphold an
unjust cause. He is trying to paint the rotten sepulchre of a chartered
company white, and to prevent the rottenness within from being exposed.
He is trying to save from the storm a house built upon the sand; while
the house President Kruger is shielding is built upon a rock, the Rock
of Ages.
When the Governor of Natal congratulated the President upon the mercy
he had shown his foes, the President replied that the South African
Republic was governed upon Christian principles--and so it is, thank
God.
We have shown that the world gave the Transvaal its due when it
recognised the mercy shown to Jameson and his men. How much more did
the world applaud the President when the territories of the Chartered
Company, being ravished by a native rebellion, he offered to allow his
Burghers to go and help Rhodesia in its moment of danger; verily that
was heaping coals of living fire upon the heads of Rhodes and company,
especially as many Burghers were eager and willing to go and assist,
and did not go only because their offer was not accepted. We can hardly
blame the High Commissioner for not accepting the Presidents offer, for
it would hardly tend to uphold England’s vaunted supremacy in South
Africa if the Boers had to succour British territory from the Matabele;
but the people of Rhodesia suffered for the refusal, and is suffering
still.
But even though his offer was refused, President Kruger moved his
country a step higher in the world’s estimation. One would almost have
thought that the Transvaal could have afforded to rest upon the laurels
gained during the first few months of the year, but the greatest of all
was yet to come. After Johannesburg’s surrender, the Reform Committee
were arrested and arraigned for trial. The Government possessed such
overwhelming evidences of guilt that the prisoners considered that
there was nothing left for them but to plead _guilty_--the four leaders
to ‘_High Treason_,’ and the rest to minor offences. The four leaders
were sentenced to death by an impartial judge, specially sworn in, to
ensure having a non-political and disinterested man upon the bench, and
the rest were sentenced to two years’ imprisonment, £2000 fine, and
three years’ banishment.
It is needless to enter into the world-wide interest taken in the trial
and its results. It is needless to enter farther into the justice of
the sentences. It is sufficient to state that all fair-minded men had
to acknowledge that the sentence was deserved, and yet the day after
sentence was pronounced, the Executive Council commuted the death
sentences, followed later by giving all the prisoners their liberties
after the various fines had been paid. Was ever such clemency shown
by human government? Would such mercy have been shown by any other
government for such offences? We doubt it.
We regret to say that even after this, the enemies of the Transvaal
did not cease even yet to attempt doing it harm. But the Transvaal
can afford to treat these--as a mastiff treats the barkings of
curs--with contempt. It is sufficient that the Transvaal has seized its
opportunity, and by the blessing of God has turned the evil intended
her, into good.
The world has heard President Kruger’s reply to the deputation of
mayors from all South Africa. When the deputation came to thank the
President for the magnanimity shown to the prisoners, he replied by
laying his hand on a Bible and saying,--
‘I recognise no rule or law for my deeds and works but what is
contained in this book.’
The world now knows the policy of the Transvaal--England knows it, let
her respect it.
It is no wonder that Mr Stead, the bitter enemy of the Transvaal, and
the friend of Rhodes and his company, has to acknowledge that President
Kruger had diplomatically scored against his enemies every time. It
could not be otherwise. For not only, as we have shown, was the cause
of the Transvaal just, but President Kruger had received his first
lessons in diplomacy from English statesmen, and had learned to be
careful how he exposed his policy when dealing with English diplomats.
It must be remembered that Mr Kruger was already vice-president of
the Transvaal when English statesmen unjustly annexed the country. Mr
Kruger was also a member of the triumvirate who allowed themselves to
be duped into a peace in 1881 (after having been victorious in every
battle), by which England retained the suzerainty of the Transvaal,
which was only got rid of in the London Convention of 1884. No wonder
if President Kruger refused to accept an unconditional invitation to
visit England to confer with Mr Chamberlain on matters which only
concerned the internal government of the Transvaal. Once caught,
twice shy! President Kruger already saw the cloven foot of the 1881
Convention reappear, when Mr Chamberlain advised him to weaken his
Government by giving Home Rule to Johannesburg; and when this failed,
to offer to safeguard the South African Republic from all attacks
against its independence from British or foreign territory on certain
conditions, viz., on the franchise being given to all Uitlanders.
We have already seen the President’s reply to the Home Rule scheme.
To the offer of England’s promised safeguard on condition that the
Uitlanders were given the franchise, the President replied that ‘the
Transvaal was already safeguarded against attack from British territory
by international law. And as regards safeguarding the Republic against
other foreign powers, the Transvaal had never asked to be thus
safeguarded’--Scored again! It would require volumes to detail all the
events of the invasion of the Republic, or the results of the crisis
of 1896, or the various good results of the Government’s wise policy
of firmness, combined with gentleness and mercy. Yet we cannot end this
chapter without referring to the greatest good of all that came to
South Africa out of the intended evil. We refer to the great _Spirit of
Unity_ that came to the Afrikander nation of South Africa. Never was
such glorious unity of purpose, of opinion and feeling, seen in South
Africa. From the Cape to the Zambesi the holy spirit of patriotism and
unity was awakened and displayed in beautiful colours of fellow feeling
and love of country and people. Never was truer word spoken than
when a man of position exclaimed in Pretoria, on receipt of the news
of Jameson’s defeat: ‘To-day the nation of South Africa is reborn.’
Afrikander national feeling was reborn indeed, never to die again. The
most bitter political opponents of President Kruger in the country
became his most staunch supporters. All party feelings were forgotten
and forgiven. All territorial or trade jealousies between states and
colonies were cast aside. One cry of shame went up against the plotters
from town to town, from state to state, from colony to colony. And the
people of South Africa became as one man.
It cannot be denied that there were certain Imperial Jingoes who
belonged to the same faction as the plotters, and who sided with the
filibusters and rebels. But these were in the small minority, and are
hardly to be recognised, except where they showed forth in their true
colours, as when they hooted their own governor in Maritzburg for
having upheld his country’s honour when in Pretoria, and expressed
his regret to President Kruger that Englishmen should have acted in
such a dishonourable way. Or again, when a party of young roughs in
the Cape Colony seized upon a single unarmed young Burgher, because
he defended his adopted country, and tarred and feathered him. Such
methods of expressing their feelings and opinions only served to prove
the badness of their cause. But on the other hand, we have the great
proof of sympathy and goodwill expressed to the Transvaal by all its
most peaceful and honourable men. Even in Johannesburg most men of
South African birth, of Dutch or English parentage, supported the
Government. And in Pretoria and other towns, the Government received
the unqualified support and sympathy of nearly every citizen of
respectability, Burgher or not.
Then again we have the practical proof of sympathy shown by the Free
State! Without a moment’s delay the Free State called up her Burghers,
and marched them up to the Transvaal borders, ready to assist her
sister Republic in case of need. Every Free Stater was as ready as any
Transvaaler to risk his life to uphold Republicanism in South Africa.
Then again we have the warm sympathy expressed for the Transvaal at
public meetings at such places as Graaff Reinet, and the Paarl in the
Cape Colony. Sympathy which was ready to take practical form at any
moment if needed. Then we must not forget to mention that Steve was
agreeably disappointed in Mr Hofmeyr, the leader of the Afrikander
party in the Cape Colony. He, with many others, had seen with regret
Mr Hofmeyr assisting Mr Rhodes to undermine the aspirations of the
Republic towards northern and western expansion. But now it was seen
that Mr Hofmeyr, in common with many others, had only been deceived and
infatuated by Rhodes. Therefore Steve, in common with all Afrikanders,
was pleased when Mr Hofmeyr expressed such warm sympathy with the
Transvaal, both before and after the crisis was decided. Truly times
of adversity bring to light who are friends and who are foes. The
trouble of the Transvaal during the first half of the year not only
showed the world her true strength, the true feelings of the Burghers,
the patriotism, love of liberty, the bravery and magnanimity of the
Afrikander race, but it also exploded a long existing idea, viz., that
the Boers are a half-savage, bloodthirsty, and cruel race. For it
was seen that when sentence of death was impartially, legally, and
rightfully passed on the enemies of the country and liberties of its
people, they, the Burghers, were the first to petition their Government
to be merciful.
CHAPTER XXIII
MIJNHEER MEYER CLAIMS HIS HORSE, ONLY TO GIVE IT UP AGAIN--THE SONG OF
THE BOER
During the last few chapters we have almost lost sight of our hero’s
daily life. But it must not be forgotten that we are not writing a
mere romance, but are recording a narrative of real life, earnest and
real. Nor must it be forgotten or lost sight of, that the real object
of the work is to tell of the hopes of future national existence, of
the patriotism and love of people and country of a young Afrikander
brought up from his youth with the idea that his race is struggling
for a place amongst the nations of the world, and that he must do all
in his power to further that object. Therefore, we have during the
last few chapters told of the struggles of his countrymen towards
that object, in which he so greatly sympathised, and of his thoughts
and opinions on those struggles. We have been simply recording his
thoughts, his joys for victories won and troubles overcome and avoided
by his race. The story of his country is his own story. We shall resume
the thread of his own life where we left it off, having brought the
political question of the day that so much interested him up to date.
After Steve had sent off the telegram to his mother informing her that
Johannesburg had surrendered, he thought he could do no better than
to take his horse (or rather Mijnheer Meyer’s horse) out for a little
exercise, especially as the horse had been having a good rest, and had
been well fed since his arrival at Pretoria. While Steve was riding
proudly along the streets of Pretoria on the beautiful stallion, the
thought which had troubled him before reoccurred to him again. How was
he going to return the horse to its owner? He had made inquiries as to
the whereabouts of Mijnheer Meyer, but owing to his speedy departure
from Krugersdorp with the prisoners of war, he had been unable to find
the gentleman in question, as the commando with which Mijnheer Meyer
served remained in that neighbourhood.
Suddenly Steve heard an exclamation of surprise.
‘_Alle magty Kerel_, where did you get that horse?’
Steve saw that this question was addressed to him, and he also felt
that it was a most awkward question to be asked. He could not answer
the question, so he asked another.
‘Why do you ask, sir?’
‘Because it seems to me I know the horse,’ was the reply of the man,
who was a fine-looking, good-natured, elderly man. At his side walked a
stalwart, broad-shouldered young man, who seemed strong enough to fell
any ox with a blow of his hard fist. This young man seemed to gaze on
the horse with great interest.
‘Sir, if you know the horse, you can perhaps tell me where I can find
its owner, as I wish to return him his property,’ said Steve.
‘Well, you won’t have far to go to find his owner, for here is the
owner himself,’ said the old man, pointing to his companion, who it was
apparent at first sight must be his son.
‘Perhaps you will allow me to ask your name, sir?’ said Steve,
suspiciously.
‘I am Meyer,’ was the reply.
Steve did not answer until he had dismounted, when he walked up to the
young man with the reins on his arm, and said,--
‘Mijnheer Meyer, I hope you will forgive me, but I came in possession
of your horse under most peculiar circumstances; I trust you will
accept my explanation and allow me to pay for the use of your horse,
and any other reasonable expense incurred, or to be incurred.’ And
Steve told in a few words how he had come in possession of the horse.
The old man and his son did not say much, but asked Steve if he had
been in time to see any of the fighting; to which Steve replied by
telling them that he had taken part in the fight at Doornkop.
‘Can you prove this?’
‘Yes, sir, easily; as it happens that the field-cornet under whom I
served is near by, if you will take a short walk with me I will take
you to him.’ This was done in silence. Steve introduced Mijnheer
Meyer to the field-cornet, and at the request of the former left them
together.
After ten minutes’ talk to the field-cornet and a short conference
between the old man and his son, they walked up to Steve, when the old
man took Steve by the hand, and warmly shaking it, said,--
‘Mijnheer Joubert, my son feels happy that his horse should have served
to bring such a brave young fellow to the assistance of his country.
Your field-cornet has told me how bravely you fought at Doornkop, and
we have had a letter from my daughter in which she told me how, and
why, she had lent you the horse. You have done well, and my son thinks
you have taken such good care of the horse, judging by appearances,
and that you ride him so well, that he wishes you to keep him as a
remembrance of Doornkop.’
‘But, sir, that would be too much kindness on his part, much as I have
learnt to love the noble animal. I cannot consent to rob him of the
best horse in Pretoria.’
‘Never mind, he shall not lose by it: I shall see to that; I have one
as good as this, which he shall have,’ replied the old man, in a way
which showed Steve that to refuse would be taken as an insult.
‘I accept your kind offer on one condition,’ replied Steve, turning
to the smiling young man, ‘and that is, that you will accept this
little offer in token of my gratitude,’ and he took off his only
extravagance--his gold watch and chain--and handed it to the young man,
who received it as graciously as he had given his horse.
Steve was indeed glad to be the owner of the beautiful horse, all the
more so as he had learned to love the animal that had borne him so
enduringly and so swiftly, and had given him his heart’s desire--the
opportunity to strike a blow for his country.
Mijnheer Meyer and his son stayed for a week in Pretoria, during which
they and Steve were almost inseparable, as a great friendship had
arisen between the young men, and the old man had learned to love Steve
as a son.
But soon the order came for all Burghers to return home: amongst
others, Mijnheer Meyer and his son--as only a guard of a few score
Burghers was to be retained for a little while longer; and a temporary
parting came for the new-found friends.
I can conclude this chapter in no more fitting way than by quoting
here--
THE SONG OF THE BOER
O’er hill and o’er dale,
O’er mountain and vale
Went a cry:
‘For our dear country’s right,
Ye must arm for the fight,
To do or to die!’
And ev’ry man heard,
And straight booted and spurred
To war ’gainst the ‘Queen of the Sea’;
‘For our children and wives
We will lay down our lives,
Or live to be FREE--to be Free!’
CHORUS.--Then ride! ride! ride!
The Asvogel screams o’er the lea,
And to-night I may rest,
With his beak in my breast,
While my children may orphans be.
With cannon and drum,
The invader hath come
In his might;
But our courage ne’er fails,
Nor no heart ever quails
At the perilous sight.
Now the roar of the battle
And musketry’s rattle
Goes up to the vault of the sky;
While the plain gleameth red
With the blood of the dead,
And the blood of those doomed to die.
CHORUS--
But the God of Battles had fought on our side,
And our country so loved is free;
For the strength of His arm doth with us abide,
And we thank Him on bended knee.
He hath scattered our foes in the pride of their ways,
And shielded the lowly Boer;
To Him be the glory, to Him be the praise
For ever and ever more.
CHORUS.--Then ride! ride! ride!
For my loved ones are waiting for me,
And to-night I shall bide
With my vrouw by my side,
And my little ones round my knee.[1]
[1] The above is a composition of Mr Luscombe Searelle’s, which was
published in _The Press_ of Pretoria some time ago, and is taken over
from that paper.
CHAPTER XXIV
IN THE MIDST OF LIFE WE ARE IN DEATH
After peace was once more partially restored, our hero resolved to
pay Johannesburg a visit and see how the _City of Gold_ looked after
its effort to amuse itself, _à la_ South America, with an abortive
revolution. It was not until Tuesday, the 18th February, that he was
able to carry out his resolve--the evening of which day found him
comfortably dining at a leading Rand hotel.
Steve found excitement, although cooled to a great extent, still
running high. Arguments, pro and con, on late events were still the
chief, if not the only, conversation indulged in during leisure moments.
It was after dinner, in the smoking-room, that our hero found himself
in the midst of a party of men hotly discussing politics. The
conversation was led by a colonial, who was taking the part of the
Government, and a Jingo of the first water, who was as hotly defending
the freebooters and rebels.
‘It is no use talking,’ said the latter, who was burdened with the
name of Bock; ‘the Boers will ultimately have to go under. They are in
the minority; they are illiterate; they are only half civilised! They
are _Boors_, and it is presumptuous to hold that they will continue to
rule this country--still less that they will ever rule South Africa!
Englishmen are bound to _chuck_ them out in the end.’
‘Anyone can see that you are using the hackneyed arguments of the
Jingoistic enemies of the Government, and that you are not speaking
from your own knowledge or experience, but from what you have read in
Jingo papers. It is true the Boers are illiterate, or the majority of
them are; but it is also true that those few who have had the benefit
of education have proved that the Afrikander is as capable to learn,
and as susceptible to education, as any race in the world. As to
civilisation--they are more civilised, as civilisation is taught in the
Christian code, than many of their European contemporaries.’
‘If you call Bible reading and psalm singing, civilisation, I won’t
argue the matter with you; in any case, they are bound to bend before
the English race, sooner or later.’
‘By your faith shall ye be saved!’ interposed Steve.
‘By which you mean, sir?’ inquired Bock.
‘I mean that the Boers do not believe that salvation lies in superior
learning, in high civilisation, or in superiority of numbers or arms,
but in right and justice and the blessing of God?’
‘Cant!’ was the sneering reply of Bock.
‘You may call it _cant_ if you like. But it was such _cant_ that gave
Dingaan and his twelve thousand warriors into the hands of five hundred
Boers. It was such cant that enabled the Boers to carry on the war of
independence against mighty England to a successful issue. It was such
_cant_ that brought the elaborate plots of Rhodes, Jameson and the
Johannesburg revolutionists to utter failure. It will be such cant that
will make South Africa a free and united Republic, in which all the
races of the world shall live free and united! The Boers believe in the
efficacy of prayer: they believe that by prayer and through faith they
can move mountains, and--England itself.’
‘Bah! do you believe in such nonsense? Do you really believe that you
have only to ask God, if God there be, for anything you want, from a
needle to an anchor, to receive it?’
‘I certainly believe that God _is_, and that if we ask we shall
receive, if it be good for us, and if we ask in faith. I also believe
that blasphemy and unbelief shall be punished,’ said Steve, reprovingly.
‘Rot!’ was the irreverent reply of Bock. ‘I do not believe that there
is such a thing as God, beyond the godliness there is in Nature. There
is no such thing as a God that answers prayer, or punishes blasphemy.’
‘I am sorry for you,’ was Steve’s gentle reply; ‘for the day shall
come when you shall _know_ that there is a God of Wrath, who punishes
blasphemy as well as a God of Love, who answers prayer.’
Bock answered with a roaring and mocking laugh, and said, ‘Well, I
shall prove to you that there is no such God as you worship. _If there
be a God, Who punishes blasphemy, I call upon Him to strike me dead,
now or within forty-eight hours._ There, I have thrown the gauntlet
down, let your God pick it up. I have given Him time enough to do it
in.’
Steve answered by jumping up from his seat and running towards the
door, where he stood looking at Bock with terror in his face.
‘What is the matter with you now?’ inquired Bock, laughing.
‘I fear me that God may take you at your word, and in your doom include
me, for being in such evil company. For your soul’s sake speak not
thus, but at least treat your Maker with reverence.’
Even the others present were shocked at Bock’s blasphemy, and seemed to
share the fear of Steve to be punished for being in the same room with
such a tempter of God; for they now rose and strolled out of the room,
leaving Bock alone.
The following day Steve went for a long and extended stroll. He was
surprised to see--all considered--the bustle and life still to be seen
in the streets of Johannesburg; and he could hardly believe that he was
walking in a city whose revolutionary state, a few weeks previously,
was the talk of the world. He had no doubt that business men and the
mining interest were still feeling the effects of the crisis severely;
but the crowds in the streets seemed to hurry and bustle, with the
usual intentness in their own missions in life incident to a large and
busy city.
Steve had lunch at some restaurant, and then journeyed towards Auckland
Park; and after a lengthy stroll about, was thinking of returning, and
hailed a passing cab to do so, when he felt the earth tremble under
him, and the glass of a house opposite fell crashing to the ground, and
a noise as of distant thunder or artillery was heard.
‘Is it an earthquake, or Johannesburg fighting in earnest at last?’
Steve asked himself. He jumped into the cab, and told the driver to
drive his best. A cloud of smoke was now seen ascending the sky;
and after a few minutes a party in a cab was hailed and asked for
information, as they seemed to be coming from the direction of the
smoke. The driver replied that he ‘expected some magazine had blown up,
as a stone had fallen from the sky a few yards from his cab.’
On reaching town, Steve was informed that a tremendous explosion of
dynamite had taken place at Vrededorp. Evidence of the severity of the
explosion was not wanting, as everywhere smashed windows were seen,
and on nearing the scene of the explosion, the signs of damage done
increased at every pace. All along the road our hero’s heart bled to
see the number of wounded being conveyed to the hospital. But, on
approaching the scene of the catastrophe itself, Steve felt sick and
faint at the signs of death about him. He got out of the cab, and told
the driver to put the cab at the service of the wounded, and look to
him for payment when done. He himself assisted to place two of the
wounded on his cab, and forgetting his natural repulsion at the sight
of human blood and gaping wounds, set to work assisting in the labour
of rescue.
‘My God! it is too horrible,’ he murmured, as he saw a severed head
lying alone and ghastly here, with · set and staring eyes. It reminded
him of his thoughts, in times past, of what the day of doom must be
like. It seemed to him, as he found a human arm here, a leg, a hand, a
head, or some portion of a body, there, that these portions of human
bodies were waiting to be re-united to their other parts. He ran about,
as if in a fever, and as if he would avoid seeing these terrible
emblems of death lying about. Spade in hand, he would now assist in
following a limb protruding from the mass of debris, lying on the brink
of the vast hole that had been made by the explosion, after which task
had been done, he would rush down to the bottom of the hole itself,
and there again work and dig till the sweat poured from his face. After
he could find no more rescue work here to be done, (so many others
being busy in the same task that there was hardly room for all), he
rushed towards the many fallen houses, fallen upon the inmates, where
there was work enough for all. Oh, what a sight! A sight, once seen,
never to be forgotten, if you live for a thousand years! Here is lying
a dead mother, clasping her dead child to her cold breast. Here are
a mother and three children, all found dead in one room. Here is a
father, mad because of his grief, holding his dead child in his arms
while moaning over his dead wife--dead, all dead--_death_ here, _death_
there, DEATH everywhere! How the men worked! Affliction makes us all
of a kin. Not one skulked. Everyone was doing his best to rescue the
wounded from the wrecks of once happy homes. No thought of politics
here; no racial distinctions thought of. Here, in this great affliction
all were of one race--the human race. Dutch and English work together
like brothers. An Englishman rescues and handles a child of Dutch
parents as tenderly as if it were his own. A Dutchman pulls out of
the ruins a ‘rooinek,’ and supports his head as tenderly as if it was
his own father, while he holds the restoring cup to his lips. When
God wishes our hearts to be softened towards each other, he sends us
affliction.
While the work of rescue is still going on, others, moved with pity at
the sight of homeless and friendless ones not killed or wounded, begin
to subscribe of their plenty, so that these may be provided for--a
movement that was responded to most liberally from all South Africa,
so that, at least, those who were left behind were provided for. Steve
worked hard as long as he could, but at midnight he gave place to fresh
ones who came up, as he was now thoroughly knocked up, and went to his
hotel to get a few hours rest.
CHAPTER XXV
THERE IS MERCY, EVEN AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR, IF YE REPENT
Early next morning, at five o’clock, Steve was again at the scene of
disaster. Gangs of men were still busy looking for dead and wounded.
Steve was told that the hospital was full to overflowing, and that the
Wanderers’ Hall had also been formed into a temporary hospital, and
was also nearly full of wounded. As Steve was walking from one ruin to
another, seeking for likely places where aid may be required, he came
to a mass of ruins. As he stood, looking thoughtfully and sadly at a
home, only one day before tenanted by, perhaps, a happy family, now
lying in a heap of debris, its inmates no one knows where--perhaps sick
and wounded to death--perhaps _dead!_ he heard a moan of despair.
‘Who is there?’
Only another mournful moan for a reply.
Steve walked towards the sound, and came to a dog--a mongrel, wounded
and crippled.
He was moved to pity to see the look of entreaty, almost human, in
the eyes of the dog. It seemed to ask his aid. Steve lifted the dog
tenderly, and carried it to a pool of water near by. But the dog would
not drink, it only whined, and, wagging its tail, crawled back to the
spot where found, looking still, with its entreating eyes, towards
Steve. Steve was puzzled at its action, and followed it back to the
spot. The dog gave a few feeble scratches at the debris on which it
lay. A beam of mental light seemed almost to dazzle Steve, as it
occurred to him that the dog wanted him to search for some loved master
or mistress. He lost not a moment to begin, and further aid soon coming
up, ere long they succeeded in laying open what seemed to be the ruins
of a dining-room. Under a heavy beam they found a dead woman with a
spoon in her hand, having, apparently, been occupied in feeding a child
of about six months, who was lying, apparently unhurt, under an arch
formed by the falling timbers. The child was sleeping, and, from the
signs of tears on its cheeks, Steve judged that it had cried itself to
sleep. Poor child! it had escaped by a miracle. Who knows what work
this child was born to accomplish? When scores of strong men and women
perished, this weak babe of six months lived. God, apparently, has
work for it to do before it may die. Perhaps, when Steve is old and
trembling, this child, saved so miraculously, may be accomplishing its
destined work, and doing something that shall benefit the whole human
race, and causing its name to be inscribed on the list of imperishable
names.
The joy of the dog seemed almost human when it saw the wakened child,
crowing as if nothing had happened. Steve waited to see that the child
was safely handed to the care of a kind and motherly-looking woman, and
then returned to his hotel for breakfast. At breakfast Steve learned,
with pleasure, that the President and other members of the Government
were on their way to Johannesburg to visit the scene of disaster. He
resolved to go to the station to see the arrival of the Presidential
party.
A great crowd was waiting at the station to welcome the man, who, a
little more than a month ago, would have been hooted and jeered at, if
not murdered, if he had ventured to visit Johannesburg unattended, as
he was doing now. But the generous and humane actions of the President,
during the last month, had prepared the way for the conciliation which
was now to take place; drawn towards each other, as both parties
were, by common sympathy at this moment of mutual loss and suffering.
Here, across the dead and wounded of Burgher and Uitlander, the
representatives of both parties shook hands, and forgot for the time,
if not for ever, their political differences.
The President and many of the most prominent men of Pretoria, who were
of the party, were driven through the destroyed township. They then
drove to the improvised hospital at the Wanderers. The President showed
visible emotion as he viewed the many wounded. The tears were seen to
force their way down the face of the man, who, in times of greatest
danger, showed no fear or emotion. But such is ever the way with great
and noble men. When danger threatens themselves, they know no fear or
pain; but when others suffer, they know how to sympathise and feel for
them.
With deep emotion, His Honour thanked the people of Johannesburg for
the sympathy and practical aid they had given to the wounded, and
promised that the Government should not forget to do their share in
succouring the needy ones who had suffered loss of parents or friends.
His Honour then reminded the suffering wounded that there was a
Great Physician on high, Who would heal all their wounds, bodily and
spiritually, if they would only ask Him.
His Honour was presented by an address from the Relief Committee,
thanking him for the practical sympathy shown to Johannesburg in this
visit, to which the President replied in suitable terms.
After a visit to the room upstairs, where some fifteen orphaned
children were housed, and some kindly words of consolation and advice
to the children, His Honour visited the permanent hospital, which was
also crowded with wounded.
As Steve was following in the rear of the Presidential party, his
sleeve was pulled by one of the attendants, who informed him that one
of the wounded patients, who had seen him passing, earnestly requested
to speak to him.
Steve readily consented, wondering who of the wounded could know him.
Following the attendant, Steve found himself before a mattress, on
which a man was lying, whose face was so mutilated that he could not
decide whether he knew the man or not. He knelt down, and taking the
hand of the wounded man in his own, gently asked him what he could do
for him.
‘Do you not know me, Joubert?’ the man faintly asked.
As Steve looked at him inquiringly, without seeming to remember him, he
said,--
‘Do you not remember Tuesday evening?’
The voice of the man, faint as it was, seemed now to recall to Steve
the scene of two evenings before, when a mortal man denied the
existence of his Maker, and dared God to strike him dead, if indeed God
there was.
‘My God, hast thou indeed taken this man at his word, and shown sinful
man Thy might? Bock, Bock, why did you ever deny your God, and bring
yourself to this?’
‘Why, indeed? Joubert, for God’s sake, for the sake of the God you
worship, tell me what I must do to escape from the wrath to come? You
said truly there is a God of Wrath as well as a God of love. Teach me
to escape the God of Wrath and find the God of Love, before it is too
late! for now I know that there is a God of Wrath! He has found me
indeed. Oh, God, it is terrible--terrible! The darkness surrounds me.
Give me light? Give me light?’
Steve was shocked and grieved inexpressibly at this scene. He murmured
a prayer for guidance how to aid this erring soul.