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 andobtain 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.’
‘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 Englandwouldinterfere 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 unfriendlyand 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 byadvising(?) President Kruger to give Johannesburg a variety ofHome 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 areBritish 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 adviceoughtto 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 hisadvice(?) to President Kruger in London before despatching the same to its destination.
We shall show farther on how thisadvice(?) was received in Pretoria.
And who were the people for whom Mr Chamberlain was asking Home Rule? For people who ever sincethey 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.Theywould 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 thepeopleof 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, butfirmreply, 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 maketheir 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 hissuggestionon President Kruger. Once morePEACEseemed 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 ofgold, power, position and birth, of Rhodes and his friends were brought to bear on newspapers, great and small; onGovernment 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 wentviathe 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 fanciedplot 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 theTimesof 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 theyliedthe more their lies were exposed and proved to be untrue. To-day theTimeswould 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.
Verily, never was the saying realised to a fuller extent, that ‘out of evil cometh good,’ than was the case withthe 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 enemiesof 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 ofsuccess 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 suchoverwhelming evidences of guilt that the prisoners considered that there was nothing left for them but to pleadguilty—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 ofthe 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 of1896, 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 greatSpirit of Unitythat 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 havethe 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 seenthat 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.
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 ridingproudly 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 explanationand 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—
O’er hill and o’er dale,O’er mountain and valeWent 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 spurredTo war ’gainst the ‘Queen of the Sea’;‘For our children and wivesWe 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 comeIn his might;But our courage ne’er fails,Nor no heart ever quailsAt the perilous sight.Now the roar of the battleAnd musketry’s rattleGoes up to the vault of the sky;While the plain gleameth redWith 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 praiseFor ever and ever more.Chorus.—Then ride! ride! ride!For my loved ones are waiting for me,And to-night I shall bideWith my vrouw by my side,And my little ones round my knee.1
O’er hill and o’er dale,O’er mountain and valeWent 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 spurredTo war ’gainst the ‘Queen of the Sea’;‘For our children and wivesWe 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 comeIn his might;But our courage ne’er fails,Nor no heart ever quailsAt the perilous sight.
Now the roar of the battleAnd musketry’s rattleGoes up to the vault of the sky;While the plain gleameth redWith 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 praiseFor ever and ever more.
Chorus.—Then ride! ride! ride!For my loved ones are waiting for me,And to-night I shall bideWith my vrouw by my side,And my little ones round my knee.1
1The above is a composition of Mr Luscombe Searelle’s, which was published inThe Pressof Pretoria some time ago, and is taken over from that paper.
1The above is a composition of Mr Luscombe Searelle’s, which was published inThe Pressof Pretoria some time ago, and is taken over from that paper.
After peace was once more partially restored, our hero resolved to pay Johannesburg a visit and see how theCity of Goldlooked after its effort to amuse itself,à laSouth 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 areBoors, 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 tochuckthem 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 itcantif you like. But it was suchcantthat 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 suchcantthat 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 Godis, 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 shallknowthat 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 suchGod 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 inearnest 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 beendone, 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—deathhere,deaththere,DEATHeverywhere! 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.
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—perhapsdead!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 layingopen 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 partiesshook 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.
‘Bock, old man, your sin was terrible. But God has already shown you some of His great love; for it can only be out of love and mercy that you were not killed outright, and were given the opportunity to still live and repent. If you truly repent, there is still mercy for you, even now!’
‘Oh, is there, is there? Oh, God, how can I know that there is still grace for me?’
Steve motioned for the attendant to come to him, and asked him if there was a Bible to be had. He was handed a copy of the New Testament, which he opened, and asked Bock if he might read him a chapter out of it, to prove to him that there was still grace for him. The poor wounded man gratefully accepted, and Steve read to him the beautiful story of the repentant sinner on the Cross, at the side of Jesus. Greedily the dying man listened to this true story of the Cross, which he had often heard and read in his youth, without appreciating the wealth of mercy and hope there was in it. When he heard the answer Jesus gave to the repentant sinner: ‘Soon shall ye enter with me into the kingdom of Heaven,’ hope once more came to him, and a faint beam of joy seemed to light up his wounded face.
When Steve had finished, he said gently to Bock,—
‘Do you believe now that there is hope?’
‘Yes, oh, yes. Won’t you pray for me? God will hear your prayer; you are so good to me.’
‘God loves to hear the sinner pray. We are all sinners; I as well as you. I will pray; but you must also pray.’
And Steve, kneeling as he was before the dying man, lifted up his voice and prayed. His prayer began in supplication, but, as he prayed, he seemed to feel that God had already answered, for he ended his prayer in thanksgiving, thanking God that another sinner had been gathered to His fold.
When Steve opened his eyes he saw that a great change had come over the face of the dying man. A beautiful smile dwelt on the mutilated countenance of the repented sinner, while a far-away look shone in his eyes, as if he already saw beyond this world.
‘Thank you, Joubert, thank you. God will reward you. I thank thee, O Lord, that Thou hast heard me, even now, and hast pardoned me my great sin. Hark!how beautifully they sing; surely ’tis angel voices sounding so sweet. Ah! that is music indeed. What are they singing? “Glory be to God and the Lamb, for a sinner saved! Amen, Amen.”’
As he uttered the last word he seemed to fall gently asleep—it was the last long sleep, from which he shall only wake at the sound of the trumpet, calling him to the judgment seat of the God he had denied in life, but found in death.
Steve knelt long before the dead man in prayer, in earnest thought. He could not help thinking how many of those killed in this terrible disaster were as unprepared to die as was this man; and how few of them had the opportunity given them to repent before they died.
After a while, the nurse, finding a spare moment, came to see how her patient was progressing. When she saw that he was dead, she remarked to Steve that she was not surprised, for the doctor had said that he could not live; his injuries being too severe.
Steve asked if she knew anything of how Bock happened to be in the accident. She replied that she only knew what Bock himself had told her a few hours previously, viz., that he had gone to the scene of the accident on business. That it was the first time he had ever gone in that direction. That he was standing at the door of a tall building, inquiring his way, when suddenly it seemed to him as if the earth was turning upside down, and as if the house in front of him was tumbling over on to him. That was all he remembered until he came back to consciousness in the hospital.
After the funeral of the dead man was over, Steve took the first train back to Pretoria, sad at heart at the scenes of suffering and death he had witnessed.
Another month went by. The political turmoil still went on. Every day seemed to bring new probabilities forth. One day peace seemed assured; the following day some despatch, or public speech of the British minister’s, seemed to threaten the Transvaal with war. Meanwhile, the Government, with President Kruger at its head, went steadily on, pursuing its policy of conciliation and mercy, combined with great firmness where its rights were concerned. But, in spite of the many diplomatic victories gained by the Government, and the sympathy shown towards it by all the world, including many prominent British statesmen, yet the attitude of the Imperial Government seemed to be as if seeking a quarrel with the Transvaal. Consequently, it is not to be wondered at that the Transvaal Government was quietly preparing to defend itself. Whispers went about of large quantities of arms and ammunition being imported. Every field-cornet had orders to see that his men were all properly armed and ready to be called up, in case of need.
In the Free State the Government was giving full attention to the question of fully arming every Burgher. Even here President Kruger had won a great victory without lifting a finger, for a new President had been elected—a President heart and soul for the Afrikander cause; a President working for a closer union of the two Republics, which meant almost doubling the strength of the Afrikander nation. What is more, everyone felt that the Free State had a man for a President who was thoroughly unselfish. A man whose sole ambition seemed to be to live for land and people. A man who would not hesitate to give up his ownambition and position if it would benefit his country. May he long be spared to his people. In Cape Colony it was whispered that the Afrikanders were quietly arming and preparing for the struggle, should it come; determined, should the opportunity occur, to strike a blow for liberty.
But England seemed to realise the volcano on which she stood; the fire, which she would light, should she unjustly attack the Transvaal—and—desisted.
Steve received an invitation one day from a prominent townsman to a small dinner-party, to meet some friends.
Steve was placed at table between a Scotchman and an Englishman. After some conversation on general topics, the Scotchman, who seemed to be a kindly, genial old man, turned to Steve and said,—
‘It is so strange to me that I have met no Boers yet, and here I am in the capital of the land of the Boers. I have been six hours in Pretoria now, and during all that time I have seen no one whom I could recognise as a Boer from the descriptions I have heard and read of them.’
Steve smiled and said,—
‘What is your conception of a Boer? By what description would you recognise him?’
‘Oh, I would easily recognise one if I were to see one. Shall I describe to you what my idea of a Boer is, from reading and hearing him described? Here you are, then. I will begin from the top. Dirty slouch hat; long, greasy, unkempt hair; tangled and untrimmed beard; sly, crafty eyes; a sensual and unclean mouth; dirty and unwashed face; dirty, baggy, ragged clothing; if any shirt at all—dirty; if any shoes at all—made of untanned leather. In short, aBoeris a man uncivilised, untaught, untamed.’
This was said in such an innocent, inoffensive way that Steve took no offence, but only laughed heartily, as if at a good joke.
‘Now, what are you laughing at? Do you mean to say my description is not true? If so, then you must blame those who have written the different descriptions from which I have gathered my ideal of a Boer.’
‘Pardon me, sir; but are you the only stranger in Jerusalem? Where are you from?’
‘I am from Glasgow, Scotland, at your service,’ was the smiling and good-natured reply.
‘But how long have you been out of Glasgow?’
‘Not quite a month. I arrived here to-day, and I came straight here.’
‘But surely, on your way from the coast, you must have met many a Boer?’
‘No, I did not; but I suppose it is because I came straight on to Pretoria after leaving the steamer.’
‘Well, sir, you have a few things to learn yet, for I am afraid you will have to journey far to meet your ideal of a Boer. He does not exist.’
‘Well, I shall see. I suppose I will come across one or more during my stay.’
Steve could not suppress another hearty laugh; but as he saw that the kind-looking old man seemed hurt at his mirth, he hastened to say,—
‘Excuse me, sir; it amused me to hear you say that you would recognise a Boer when you saw one, and immediately after express a hope that you would see one or more during your stay. Why, don’t you know that half the guests round this table are what you call Boers, or, rather, what we call them as a nation—Afrikanders?’
‘Well, I am—blessed! Do you mean they are born Boers, or are they naturalised Uitlanders?’
‘No, sir; born and bred in the Transvaal or Cape Colony. That one there was born in the Cape Colony; this one to the left was born and grew up on a farm in Waterberg; this gentleman just opposite us made his living by farming, until he became a Government official; that one to his right is an attorney, whose father was a true old Boer of the old school.’
‘Well, who would have thought it! One never gets too old to learn. It is lucky for me that they did not overhear me.’
‘It would not matter if they did. We Afrikanders are accustomed to be misunderstood and underrated.’
‘What do you mean by saying “we Afrikanders?” Surelyyouare an Englishman; your speech betrays you.’
‘I am as true an Afrikander as Oom Paul himself; may I be as good a one as he is.’
‘You an Afrikander?Youa Boer? Surely, sir, you are trying to make fun of me?’
‘No, sir; we Afrikanders know how to respect our elders. I mean what I say. I have never been out of South Africa.’
‘Well, well, the world is full of deceit and lies! and when I go back to Scotland I shall tell the people of our country what a Boer really is. But this gives me just the opportunity I wished for. I wanted so much to have a talk with a Boer, but was afraid that I would not find one who could understand me. I want you to give me an idea of what the real feelings of your people are on the situation in South Africa, and of the events of the past few months. I came out to see and hear for myself what the Transvaal and its people are like; and you, I can see, are an educated man, and just the one to give me the information I want. Are you willing to speak to me on the subject?’
‘With the greatest of pleasure, sir. We ask for nothing better than to be better known and better understood; therefore I am willing to give you all the information you want.’
‘Well, then, if you will be so kind, give me, in a few words, the events which led up to the present situation.’
‘To begin from the very beginning: you know, sir, that South Africa was first colonised by the Dutch. To the Dutch was added a sprinkling, later on, of French Huguenots, also a little seasoning of German blood.These three nationalities readily united, and formed a sturdy race of hunters and farmers. A farmer in Dutch is aBoer; hence the name Boer, which really means the occupation and not the nationality of the race. Living a life of seclusion and simplicity on their farms, the one great characteristic of this people came to be their love of their Bible and their love of freedom. This was bred in them from their youth, and their faith is rather to die than to lose either. When the English came, they would or could in no wise understand or appreciate this race of simple, quiet and peace-loving people. Their love of peace was taken for cowardice. This at first led the English to feel contempt for the Boers. This naturally bred antagonism between the two races, which effectually prevented any fusion of the two nationalities. Then, also, the English wished to place the blacks on an equal footing with the whites. This led to further antagonism; for the Boers, while treating the blacks kindly and humanely, do not believe that blacks and whites were intended to be on an equal footing in this world. They contend that even the Bible teaches that the children of Ham shall be servants to the children of his brethren. In a dispute on this matter, a Boer and some of his relatives resisted the law, and were shot in the act, while several others were hanged atSlachtersnekfor the same offence. This settled the matter. The Boers saw they were the weakest; so they determined to leave their dearly-loved country and seek for a land in the wilderness, where they would be at rest, and the English cease from troubling them.
‘The first country they took possession of in the interior was what is now the Free State, and, soon after, Natal was occupied. In both of these territories they had to fight many a bloody battle with the fierce Zulus and other native tribes before they could live at peace. But no sooner were they settled, and had built homes and ploughed lands, than once more England followed them up, and forced them to ‘clear’ out after a shortstruggle. This happened in the Free State, as well as Natal. The Boers nowtrekkedin earnest to the Transvaal.
‘The Transvaal at this time was almost inaccessible to an English army, because of the distance from the coast in which it lay; therefore the Boers were not only able to hold their own, but also to harass the English in the neighbouring Colonies so as to force England to solemnly recognise their independence at the Sand River Convention. After the Sand River Convention, the Boers lived at peace with England for many years. But they still had to struggle on against native tribes, poverty, and the internal dissensions usual to a nation in its infancy and in course of formation. At last a time came when the hardy Boers were sorely pressed, what with no market for their produce, a President not in sympathy with their simple ways and manners, and native wars. In the meanwhile England, or rather certain Jingoistic Englishmen, began to see what a mistake was made when England allowed an independent state to grow up on the borders of its own possessions in South Africa, the more so as England had already been forced by avarice to do an unjust act to the Free State, by forcing that independent State to give up its most valuable possession—the diamond fields—for a paltry consideration. And gold having begun to be discovered in the Transvaal, it seemed to be the best policy to take full possession of the Transvaal before further discoveries of gold took place, which might necessitate the same course of action which was pursued in the case of the diamond fields. Besides, a trick of that kind does not generally succeed twice; therefore something new must be tried this time, and the best plan would be to take possession of the whole country on some pretext or other. When an excuse is sought to do an unjust thing, such an excuse is easily found. Now that the Boers were so hard pressed, what could be more in conformity with England’s usual policy of succour and protection of weak countries than relieving theBoers of any further trouble of forming their State on a firm basis by annexing the Transvaal? This was done in a manner unworthy the traditions of a country like England.