But as disastrous as the late war in the Transvaal had been to British prestige, thank God those at Bronkhorst Spruit did their duty and died like men, a noble example to any army. If any stain has been cast on the British flag in the Transvaal, the gallant 94th did all that was possible by their deeds at Bronkhorst Spruit to obliterate it.
The news of this affair was received with horror, and the feelings roused by the details of it have never been allayed. Race-hatred may have its origin in a hundred little incidents, but in the Transvaal there were two which undoubtedly, whether justly or otherwise, gave a character to the Boers that has embittered feeling against them more than any which had occurred in generations previous. The second affair followed very closely on the Bronkhorst Spruit engagement—i.e., the infamous murder of Captain Elliott, the only surviving unwounded officer from Bronkhorst Spruit. Captains Elliott and Lambert were taken prisoners, and were offered the choice of two alternatives—either to remain prisoners of war during the hostilities in the Transvaal, or to be released on parole d'honneur on condition that they should leave the Transvaal at once, cross into the Free State under escort, and not bear arms against the Republican Government during the war. The second alternative was chosen. They received an escort and free pass from Commandant-General Piet Joubert. The following is extracted from Captain Lambert's Report to Sir George Colley on January 5:
We started about 1 p.m. from the Boer camp, passing through the town of Heidelberg. After going about six to eight miles, I noticed we were not going the right road, and mentioned the fact to the escort, who said it was all right. Having been 'look-out' officer in the Transvaal, I knew the district well. I was certain we were going wrong, but we had to obey orders. At nightfall we found ourselves nowhere near the river drift, and were ordered to outspan for the night, and next morning the escort told us they would look for the drift. Inspanning at daybreak, we again started, but after driving about for some hours across country, I told the escort we would stop where we were while they went to search for the drift. Shortly after they returned and said they had found it, and we must come, which we did, eventually arriving at the junction of two rivers (Vaal and Klip), where we found the Vaal impassable, but a small punt, capable of holding only two passengers at most, by which they said we must cross. I pointed out that it was impossible to get my carriage or horses over by it, and that it was not the punt the General said we were to cross. The escort replied it was Pretorius's punt that the General told them to take us, and we must cross; that we must leave the carriage behind and swim the horses, which we refused to do, as we then should have had no means of getting on. I asked them to show me their written instructions, which they did (written in Dutch), and I pointed out that the name of Pretorius was not in it. I then told them they must either take us back to the Boer camp again or on to the proper drift. We turned back, and after going a few miles the escort disappeared. Not knowing where we were, I proposed to Captain Elliott we should go to the banks of the Vaal, and follow the river till we came to the proper punt. After travelling all Monday, Tuesday, and up till Wednesday about 1 p.m., when we found ourselves four hours, or twenty-five miles, from Spencer's punt, we were suddenly stopped by two armed Boers, who handed us an official letter, which was opened, and found to be from the Secretary to the Republican Government, stating that the members were surprised that, as officers and gentlemen, we had broken our parole d'honneur, and refused to leave the Transvaal; that if we did not do so immediately by the nearest drift, which the bearers would show us, we must return as prisoners of war; that as through our ignorance of the language of the country there might be some misunderstanding, they were loth to think we had willingly broken our promise. We explained that we should reply to the letter, and request them to take it to their Government, and were prepared to go with them at once. They took us back to a farmhouse, where we were told to wait until they fetched their commandant, who arrived about 6 p.m., and repeated to us the same that was contained in our letter of that day. We told him we were ready to explain matters, and requested him to take our answer back to camp. He then ordered us to start at once for the drift. I asked him, as it was then getting dark, if we could start early next morning, but he refused. So we started, he having said we should cross at Spencer's, being closest. As we left the farmhouse, I pointed out to him that we were going in the wrong direction; but he said, 'Never mind; come on across a drift close at hand.' When we got opposite it, he kept straight on; I called to him, and said that this was where we were to cross. His reply was, 'Come on!' I then said to Captain Elliott, 'They intend taking us back to Pretoria,' distant some forty miles. Suddenly the escort (which had all at once increased from two to eight men, which Captain Elliott pointed out to me; and I replied, 'I suppose they are determined we shall not escape, which they need not be afraid of, as we are too keen to get over the border') wheeled sharp down to the river, stopped, and, pointing to the banks, said, 'There is the drift—cross!' I drove my horses into the river, when they immediately fell; lifted them, and drove on about five or six yards, when we fell into a hole. Got them out with difficulty, and advanced another yard, when we got stuck against a rock. The current was now so strong and drift deep, my cart was turned over on to its side, and water rushed over the seat. I called out to the commandant on the bank that we were stuck and to send assistance, or might we return, to which he replied, 'If you do, we will shoot you.' I then tried, but failed, to get the horses to move. Turning to Captain Elliott, who was sitting beside me, I said, 'We must swim for it'; and asked could he swim, to which he replied, 'Yes.' I said, 'If you can't, I will stick to you, for I can.' While we were holding this conversation, a volley from the bank, ten or fifteen yards off, was fired into us, the bullets passing through the tent of my cart, one of which must have mortally wounded poor Elliott, who only uttered the single word 'Oh!' and fell headlong into the river from the carriage. I immediately sprang in after him, but was swept down the river under the current some yards. On gaining the surface of the water, I could see nothing of Elliott, but I called out his name twice, but received no reply. Immediately another volley was fired at me, making the water hiss around where the bullets struck. I now struck out for the opposite bank, which I reached with difficulty in about ten minutes; but as it was deep, black mud, on landing I stuck fast, but eventually reached the top of the bank, and ran for about two hundred yards under a heavy fire the whole while.
The Boers then invaded Natal and took up a position on Laing's Nek, four miles inside the Natal border, from which, on January 28, Sir George Colley endeavoured to oust them with a mounted force of 70 men and some 500 men of the 58th Regiment. The position is one difficult enough to climb unencumbered by military accoutrements, but the disposition of the little mounted force covered the approach. By some unexplained mistake, however, half of the mounted infantry charged and carried the Boer position before the 58th had climbed the hill, but were too weak to hold it and retired, leaving the 58th uncovered in a terrible ascent. But few of the exhausted men reached the top of the hill, and those, led by Colonel Deane, only to be shot down. Of the mounted men, 17 were killed and wounded; of the 58th, 73 were killed and 100 wounded. The result was absolute defeat of the British forces. The number of Boers engaged is not known, but the force behind the Nek consisted of several thousands, and no doubt a fair proportion engaged in the fight.
On February 8 General Colley made a demonstration in force on the Ingogo Heights. The force consisted of under 300 men, with 4 guns and 38 mounted men. On the Boer side there were about 1,000 men, and the fight lasted from morning until after dark. It was a drawn fight, in which both parties left the battlefield at night. There cannot be any doubt, however, that the balance of advantage was with the Boers, since the loss on the British side was very severe: 76 men were killed and 69 wounded.
On February 27 came Majuba, when Sir George Colley designed to retrieve his fortunes and strike an effective blow without the aid of his second-in-command, Sir Evelyn Wood, whom he had sent to hurry up reinforcements. The scaling of the mountain at night was a fine performance. The neglect to take the rocket apparatus or mountain guns, or to fortify the position in any way, or even to acquaint the members of the force with the nature of the position which they had taken up in the dark, and the failure to use the bayonets, were the principal causes of disaster. The Boers attacked in force a position which should have been absolutely impregnable, held as it was by a force of 554 soldiers. The Boer force is not known, but probably consisted of upwards of 1,000 men, since Christian Joubert after the fight offered to take a portion of the men, numbering, as he said, some 500, to attack a small British laager on one of the spurs of the mountain. The splendid feat of taking the hill-top, however, was accomplished by a small storming party of less than 200 men, the balance of the Boer forces covering the approach of their comrades by an accurate and incessant long-range fire. The result, as is known, was terrible disaster: 92 killed and 134 wounded, and a number taken prisoners, represented the British loss, whilst the Boers lost 1 killed and 5 wounded. No attempt had been made to occupy positions below the crown of the hill which commanded the approaches, and the Boers were able to creep up under good cover from place to place by the exercise of their admirable tactics. It is impossible to detract from the performance of the Boers, and a glance at the position leaves one more astonished than ever that a successful attack could ever have been made upon it. The Boers displayed on this day the finest fighting qualities. The generalship of their fighting Commandant, Nikolas Smit, was of the highest order. The cleverness of the attack, and the personal bravery and audacity of the storming party are beyond praise.
By the time Sir Evelyn Wood had ranged his forces for an effective and extended attack on the Boers, and by the time Sir Frederick Roberts with the command of about 10,000 men had reached South Africa, the administration of Mr. Gladstone had awakened to the fact that the war was an unjust—not to say costly—one. An armistice was arranged and peace made without another blow.
The terms of the settlement proposed by the Liberal Government fitly illustrate the generosity of their motives. They proposed doing 'simple justice' to the Boers, but at the same time retaining the districts of Lydenburg, Middelburg, Wakkerstroom, and Utrecht, not to mention handing back Zoutpansberg to the original native occupants. So anxious were the Boer leaders to effect a peaceful settlement, so fearful were they of the actions of their followers, that when they arranged the long armistice they did not announce to their party the intentions of the British Government regarding the above districts. General Joubert did not communicate to his army the terms of peace, but simply stated that a Royal Commission was to settle everything. A month later, when some inkling of the terms reached the Boers, a solemn protest and warning was issued, and when the Royal Commission actually sat, the British representatives were informed that any such curtailment of the territories would be followed by a resumption of hostilities. Needless to say the proposals were abandoned and the Boers got their way. So ended the war.
Ingogo has been called a drawn battle. Bronkhorst Spruit was—such as it was. At Laing's Nek and Majuba the Boers beat us, as Mr. Carter fairly puts it, 'when they were on the top of the hill and we were at the bottom, and when we were on the top of the hill and they were at the bottom.' The narrative of these events is about as humiliating a one as an Englishman can read. Here and there it is redeemed by the heroic conduct of individuals in the midst of general disaster. In the smaller affairs, such as the particularly gallant defences of Standerton, Potchefstroom, and Rustenberg, where little garrisons held their own with conspicuous ability and courage, there is something to cheer the disheartened reader. The defence of Potchefstroom by Colonel Winslow should be read in full for several reasons. The siege of Standerton witnessed several acts of valour, but, above all, that of Hall the volunteer, who single handed deliberately engaged a force of over 300 Boers, drawing their fire on himself in order to warn his comrades of the danger of being cut off and to give them a chance of escape—a noble act in which the gallant fellow achieved his object but lost his life. It was in Rustenberg where Captain Auchinleck, with about seventy men armed only with rifles, held his laager against hundreds of the enemy, fighting day and night for weeks; and eventually drove off the Boers who were trenching towards his position by charging at night with from nine to fourteen of his men and clearing the enemy out of the trenches with the bayonet. This performance he repeated three times, himself badly wounded on each occasion. The impression created on the enemy by these tactics was such that they overcame their desire to get at close quarters with him, and left him severely alone.
It is not necessary to refer in great detail to the settlement In effect it was that the Boers gained nearly all that they required, but not until the haggling and threatening had robbed concessions of all appearance of grace and justice. The natives were referred to in the conventional spirit. The unfortunate loyalists were left to take care of themselves. The men who had entered the Transvaal, and invested their capital and expended their energies there upon the most positive and sacred assurances of the British Government that the Queen's authority would never be withdrawn,—assurances given in public by the Conservative Government and confirmed by Mr. Gladstone's Government, assurances published by Sir Bartle Frere and Sir Garnet Wolseley, who said that 'as long as the sun would shine the British flag would fly over the Transvaal,'—were heartlessly abandoned, their protests were unheeded, the compensation allotted to them, namely, £1,400,000, was amended by the elimination of the million, their representations to Mr. Gladstone's Government were finally left unanswered—unless it be that the sneering reference made by that right honourable gentleman in the House of Commons to 'interested contractors and landjobbers' may be considered an adequate answer to a protest as moderate, as able, as truthful, and as necessary as Mr. Gladstone's remark was the reverse. In very truth, the position in which the British Premier had placed himself through his intemperate speeches in the Midlothian campaign, and his subsequent 'explaining away,' was an extremely unpleasant one. In Opposition Mr. Gladstone had denounced the annexation and demanded a repeal. On accession to power he adopted the policy of his predecessors, and affirmed that the annexation could never be revoked. On June 8, 1880, he had written to this effect to Messrs. Kruger and Joubert, the Transvaal deputation. Later on, in answer to an appeal that he should allay the apprehensions of the loyalists, who feared the results of the Boer agitation, he referred them to this very letter as a final expression of opinion, and authorized the publication of this message. When, however, peace had been concluded, and the loyalists, amazed and heartbroken at their threatened desertion, reminded him of his pledges and implored him to respect them, he answered them in a letter which is surely without parallel in the record of self-respecting Governments. The wriggling, the equivocation, the distortion of phrases, the shameless 'explaining away,' are of a character that would again justify the remark of Lord Salisbury (then Lord Robert Cecil) in another matter many years before, that they were 'tactics worthy of a pettifogging attorney,' and even the subsequent apology—to the attorney. But what answer could be made to a protest which reminded the right honourable gentlemen of the following deliberate and official expression of his Government's policy?—
In your letter to me (wrote Mr. White for the loyalists) you claim that the language of your letter does not justify the description given. With the greatest respect I submit that it does, and I will quote the words on which I and also my colleagues base the opinion that it does unequivocally pledge the Government to the non-relinquishment of the Transvaal.
The actual words of your letter are:
'Looking at all the circumstances, both of the Transvaal and the rest of South Africa, and to the necessity of preventing a renewal of the disorders, which might lead to disastrous consequences, not only to the Transvaal, but to the whole of South Africa, our judgment is that the Queen cannot be advised to relinquish the Transvaal; but, consistently with the maintenance of that sovereignty, we desire that the white inhabitants of the Transvaal should, without prejudice to the rest of the population, enjoy the fullest liberty to manage their local affairs.'
But your letter of the 8th of June not only contained this final and absolute announcement of the policy of England, but it gave the reasons for arriving at it in words which so aptly express the case of the loyalists that I quote them in extenso. They are as follows:
'It is undoubtedly matter for much regret that it should, since the annexation, have appeared that so large a number of the population of Dutch origin in the Transvaal are opposed to the annexation of that territory, but it is impossible now to consider that question as if it were presented for the first time. We have to do with a state of things which has existed for a considerable period, during which obligations have been contracted, especially, though not exclusively, towards the native population, which cannot be set aside.'
In your speech in the House of Commons, on the debate on Mr. Peter Rylands' motion condemning the annexation of the country and the enforcement of British supremacy in it, which was defeated by a majority of ninety-six, on the 21st of January in the current year, you used words of similar import. You are reported in the Times of the 22nd of January as saying:
'To disapprove the annexation of a country is one thing; to abandon that annexation is another. Whatever we do, we must not blind ourselves to the legitimate consequences of facts. By the annexation of the Transvaal we contracted new obligations.... I must look at the obligations entailed by the annexation, and if in my opinion, and in the opinion of many on this side of the House, wrong was done by the annexation itself, that would not warrant us in doing fresh, distinct, and separate wrong by a disregard of the obligation which that annexation entailed. These obligations have been referred to in this debate, and have been mentioned in the compass of a single sentence. First, there was the obligation entailed towards the English and other settlers in the Transvaal, perhaps including a minority, though a very small minority, of the Dutch Boers themselves; secondly, there was the obligation to the native races; and thirdly, there was the obligation we entailed upon ourselves in respect of the responsibility which was already incumbent upon us, and which we, by the annexation, largely extended, for the future peace and tranquillity of South Africa.'
Nor was this all. The loyalists proceeded to remind him that Lord Kimberley, his Secretary of State for the Colonies, had telegraphed in May, 1880, 'Under no circumstances can the Queen's authority in the Transvaal be relinquished,' and had confirmed the telegram in a despatch following; and that his lordship had also stated in the House of Lords on May 24 that '... after a careful consideration of the position, we have come to the conclusion that we could not relinquish the Transvaal. Nothing could be more unfortunate than uncertainty in respect to such a matter.' (Hansard, cclii., p. 208.)
The effects of the settlement, and the exposures in connection with it, and the attitude of the Imperial Government were most deplorable. No credit was given by the Boers to a Government which was clearly moved by the meanest considerations. No feeling but contempt, disgust, and even hatred, could be entertained by the loyalists for the Government which had so shamelessly deserted them. The settlement has left its indelible mark upon the sentiment of South Africa. The war, it will generally be admitted, was a most unfortunate occurrence. Only one thing could have been more unfortunate, and that was such a settlement as actually was effected—a settlement which satisfied no one, which outraged all, which threw South Africa into a state of boiling discontent. In some quarters the defeats of Majuba and Laing's Nek rankled deeply; yet they were fair fights, and Time can be trusted to allay the feelings of those who are worsted in a fair fight; but there were other matters which roused a spirit in the English-speaking people of South Africa that had never been known before.
The former records of the Boers, favourable and unfavourable, are consistent with the records established in the War of Independence. None dare belittle the spirit which moved them to take up arms against the greatest Power in the world. Their ignorance may have been great, but not so great as to blind them to the fact that they were undertaking an unequal contest. It is not possible to say, with due regard to their records, that they are not a courageous people. Individual bravery, of the kind which takes no heed of personal risk, reckless heroic dash, they have not, nor do they pretend to have. Their system is entirely otherwise. They do not seek fighting for fighting's sake. They do not like exposing themselves to risk and danger. Their caution and their care for personal safety are such that, judged by the standard of other people's conduct in similar positions, they are frequently considered to be wanting in personal courage. It seems a hard thing to say of a people who have produced men like the first Bezuidenhout, who fought and died single-handed against the British troops; men like Piet Retief, as gallant a man as ever walked; men like Piet Uys, an example to all men for all time, and only one of many generations in one family of equally gallant Dutchmen; but it would truly seem that such examples do not occur with such frequency among the Boers as among nations with whom they have been compared. Where they have been able to choose their own positions, or where they have been stimulated by previous successes, they have done all that could possibly be asked of them; but their particular military system does not conduce to success under circumstances where men are suddenly and unexpectedly called upon to exhibit the virtues of discipline, to make what to the individual may appear a useless sacrifice of life, or, in cold blood and in the face of previous defeat, to attempt to retrieve a lost position.
The Boer military power has been called the biggest unpricked bubble in the world. Whether this be so or not—whether the early conflicts between the British troops and the Boers in the Cape Colony and Natal justify the view that the Boers cannot take a beating and come up again—is a matter for those to decide who will give their impartial attention to the records.
Whilst conspicuous personal daring among the Boers may not be proverbial, it must be remembered to their everlasting credit that they, as did the Southerners in the American Civil War, robbed the cradle and the grave to defend their country. Boys who were mere children bore rifles very nearly as long as themselves; old men, who had surely earned by a life of hardship and exposure an immunity from such calls, jumped on their horses and rode without hesitation and without provision to fight for their independence.
There were, however, unfortunately, matters connected with the war which gave birth to a bitter and aching desire for revenge. Bronkhorst Spruit and the murder of Captain Elliott were among the earliest. Another was the shooting of Dr. Barbour (who was killed instantly) and Mr. Walter Dyas (wounded) by their escort under circumstances similar to those of the Elliott murder, with the exception that in this case the prisoners had been released on foot and in daylight, and were then shot down.
But there were others too. There was the murder of Green in Lydenburg, who was called to the Boer camp, where he went unarmed and in good faith, only to have his brains blown out by the Boer with whom he was conversing; there was the public flogging of another Englishman by the notorious Abel Erasmus because he was an Englishman and had British sympathies; and there were the various white flag incidents. At Ingogo the Boers raised the white flag, and when in response to this General Colley ordered the hoisting of a similar flag to indicate that it was seen, a perfect hail of lead was poured on the position where the General stood; and it was obvious that the hoisting of the flag was merely a ruse to ascertain where the General and his staff were. There was the ambulance affair on Majuba, when the Boers came upon an unarmed party bearing the wounded with the red cross flying over them, and after asking who they were and getting a reply, fired a volley into the group, killing Surgeon-Major Cornish. There was the siege of Potchefstroom, during which the Boer force under Commandant Cronjé were guilty of actions contrary to the usages of civilized warfare. They are matters of history, and can easily be verified. Reference is made to them elsewhere in this volume in connection with Commandant Cronjé's action on another occasion.
And so the war left the country, as wars will, divided into two parties, with feelings towards each other that are deplorable enough in themselves, and not easily allayed. The curtain was rung down, and the scene was lost to the view of the world, but the play went on all the same behind the curtain. And this is what the new Government said to the world on August 8, 1881, when they took over the administration of the country:
To all inhabitants, without exception, we promise the protection of the law, and all the privileges attendant thereon.
To inhabitants who are not burghers, and do not wish to become such, we notify that they have the right to report themselves to the Resident as British subjects, according to Article 28 of the now settled Convention. But be it known to all, that all ordinary rights of property, trade, and usages will still be accorded to everyone, burgher or not.
We repeat solemnly that our motto is, 'Unity and reconciliation.'
{01} Written in 1896.
{02} Several of the letters and despatches given in this volume are quoted from Mr. Martineau's excellent 'Life of Sir Bartle Frere,' a portion of which book was lately published in cheaper form, under the title of 'The Transvaal Trouble and How it Arose.'
{03} It is only fair to state that at that time the Home Government believed the prestige of the Imperial authority to be sufficient for all purposes.
In 1882 Sir Bartle Frere wrote, 'I have never been able to discover any principle in our policy in South Africa except that of giving way whenever any difficulty or opposition is encountered.' The remark is still as true as when it was penned, and South Africa—the 'Grave of Reputations,'{04} as it has long been called—must by this time be regarded with doubtful emotions by successive Colonial Secretaries. What is it about South Africa, one asks, that has upset so many men of capacity and experience? Who can say? Often—most often—it is the neglect to thoroughly study and know what are called the 'local conditions,' and to pay due heed to local experience. Sometimes it is the subordination of State policy to party considerations which has ruined the Proconsul: witness Sir Bartle Frere, whose decisive action, firm character, and wise and statesmanlike policy are now—now that he is dead—recognised universally, as they have always been in South Africa. Perhaps there is something in Africa itself which makes it a huge exception to the rules of other lands; the something which is suggested in the 'rivers without water, flowers without scent, and birds without song'; a contrariness which puts the alluvial gold on the top of mountain ranges and leaves the valleys barren; which mocked the experience of the world, and showed the waterworn gravel deposit to be the biggest, richest, deepest, and most reliable gold reef ever known; which placed diamonds in such conditions that the greatest living authority, who had undertaken a huge journey to report on the occurrence, could only say, in the face of a successful wash-up, 'Well, there may be diamonds here, but all I can say is they've no right to be'; the something which many, many centuries ago prompted the old Roman to write, 'Ex Africâ semper aliquid novi affert,' and which is in the mind of the South African to-day when he says, 'The impossible is always happening in Africa.'
There is this to be said for the Gladstone Ministry in 1881: that, having decided on a policy of scuttle and abandonment, they did it thoroughly, as though they enjoyed it. A feeble vote-catching provision, with no security attached, was inserted in the Pretoria Convention relative to the treatment of natives, but no thought or care was given to the unfortunate British subject who happened to be a white man, and to have fought for his Queen and country.{05} The abandonment was complete, without scruple, without shame. It has been written that 'the care and forethought which would be lavished on a favourite horse or dog on changing masters were denied to British subjects by the British Government.' The intensity and bitterness of the resentment, the wrath and hatred—so much deeper because so impotent—at the betrayal and desertion have left their traces on South African feeling; and the opinion of the might and honour of England, as it may be gleaned in many parts of the Colonies as well as everywhere in the Republics, would be an unpleasant revelation to those who live in undisturbed portions of the Empire, comfortable in the belief that to be a British subject carries the old-time magic of 'Civis Romanus sum.'
The Transvaal State, as it was now to be called, was re-established, having had its trade restored, its enemies crushed—for Secocoeni and Cetewayo were both defeated and broken—and its debts paid or consolidated in the form of a debt to England, repayable when possible. For some time not even the interest on this debt was paid.
Numbers of British subjects left the country in disgust and despair. Ruined in pocket and broken in spirit, they took what little they could realize of their once considerable possessions, and left the country where they could no longer live and enjoy the rights of free men. For some years the life of a Britisher among the Boers was far from happy. It is not surprising—indeed, not unnatural—that people unsoftened by education and the conditions of civilization, moved by fierce race prejudice, and intoxicated by unbroken and unexpected success, should in many cases make the vanquished feel the conqueror's heel. The position of men of British name or sympathies in the country districts was very serious, and the injustice done to those who had settled since the annexation, believing that they were to live under the laws and protection of their own Government was grave indeed.
The Government of the country was vested in a Triumvirate with Mr. Stephanus Johannes Paulus Kruger as Vice-President during the period immediately following the war; but in 1882 the old form was restored and Mr. Kruger was elected President, an office which he is now holding for the third successive term.{06}
Prior to the war the population of the country was reckoned by both Dutch and English authorities to be about 40,000 souls, the great majority of whom were Dutch. The memorial addressed to Lord Carnarvon, dated January 7, 1878, praying for repeal of the annexation, was 'signed by 6,591 qualified electors out of a possible 8,000,' as is explained in the letter of the Transvaal delegates to Sir M. Hicks-Beach dated July 10, 1878. The fact, already mentioned, that 3,000 electors had petitioned for the annexation only means that some of them changed their minds under pressure or conviction, and helped to swell the number of those who later on petitioned for repeal. The signatories to the above memorial would include practically all the Dutch electors in the country, and the remaining 1,400 or so would probably be the non-Boer party who preferred British rule, and could not be coerced into signing memorials against it. These figures are useful as a check upon those now put forward by the Transvaal Government to combat the assertion that the Uitlanders outnumber the Boers. Recognizing the fact that the Boers are a singularly domestic and prolific people, one may allow that they numbered 35,000 out of the total population, an estimate that will be seen to be extremely liberal. At the time that the above figures were quoted by the Transvaal delegates every Boer youth over the age of twenty-one was a qualified voter, so that it would seem that the qualified Boer voter had an average of one wife and 4.3 children, a fair enough allowance in all conscience. These figures should be borne in mind, for the present Boer population consists of what remains of these 35,000 souls and their natural increase during eighteen years. There are other Dutch immigrants from the Cape Colony and Free State: these are aliens, who have the invaluable qualification of hating England and her sons and her ways and her works; but, as will be made clear when the Franchise Law is explained, the present Boer electorate consists-or, without fraud or favouritism, should consist-of the 'possible 8,000' and their sons.
Many a champion of liberty has lived to earn the stigma of tyrant, and the Boers who in 1835 had trekked for liberty and freedom from oppressive rule, and who had fought for it in 1880, began now themselves to put in force the principles which they had so stoutly resisted. In the Volksraad Session of 1882 the first of the measures of exclusion was passed. The Franchise, which until then-in accordance with Law No. 1 of 1876-had been granted to anyone holding property or residing in the State, or, failing the property qualification, to anyone who had qualified by one year's residence, was now altered, and Law No. 7 of 1882 was passed which provided that aliens could become naturalized and enfranchised after five years' residence, thus attaining the status of the oldest Voortrekker. The feeling was now very strong against the Annexation Party, as they had been called, that is to say, the men who had had the courage of their convictions, and had openly advocated annexation; and as usual the bitterest persecutors and vilifiers were found in the ranks of those who, having secretly supported them before, had become suspect, and had now need to prove their loyalty by their zeal. The intention was avowed to keep the party pure and undiluted, as it was maintained by many of the Boers that former proselytes had used their newly-acquired privileges to vote away the independence of the country. The view was not unnatural under the circumstances, and this measure, had it not been a violation of pledges, might have found defenders among impartial persons; but unfortunately it proved to be not so much a stringently defensive measure which time and circumstances might induce them to modify, as the first step in a policy of absolute and perpetual exclusion. It was the first deliberate violation of the spirit of the settlement, and, although there is no clause in the Pretoria Convention which it can be said to contravene, it was, as Mr. Chamberlain has since styled it, 'a violation of the status quo as it was present to the minds of her Majesty's Ministers at the time the Convention was negotiated.' But the Gladstone Ministry, which had paid so heavily to get rid of the Transvaal question, was certainly not going to re-open it for the sake of holding the Boers to the spirit of the settlement.
Another precaution was taken to keep all the power in the hands of the Boers. The various towns which had formerly been entitled to representation in Parliament were deprived of this right, and have remained disfranchised ever since. Mr. Kruger feared that the enlightened thought of the towns would hinder the growth of his 'national policy.'
It was not too late even at this time to have bloodlessly settled the Transvaal question for ever by a fair but thoroughly firm attitude towards the restored Republic. No doubt British Ministers, conscious of an act of supreme self-restraint and magnanimity, believed that some reciprocal justice would be evoked. At any rate, it is possible that this was the reason which guided them, and not continued callous indifference to the fate of British subjects and the future of South Africa. In such case, however, they must have forgotten 'the fault of the Dutch'—which Andrew Marvell's couplet has recorded—of 'giving too little and asking too much.' The Transvaal Boers are very practical people, and no matter what they may receive or how they get it, whether by way of diplomacy or barter or the accident of good luck or deed of gift, they never neglect to press and scheme for more. It is an unpleasant feature in the Boer character, prominent alike in personal and general relations, begotten, mayhap, of hard life, constant struggle, and lack of education and its softening and elevating influence. It is a feature which is common to all uneducated peoples who have suffered great hardships, and it will no doubt disappear in time; but it is one which has to be reckoned with at the present day, and one which, when recognized at its true value, sustains the contention that the Boers, in dealing with those whom they regard as not of them, will recognise no right and do no justice unless compelled to do so. The considerations of a narrow and selfish policy are stronger than the sense of right and wrong.
British Ministers and the British people when glowing with a mildly enthusiastic satisfaction at their tolerant and even generous attitude towards a weaker opponent may imagine that they have sown good seed which in time will bear ample fruit; but it is not so. Nothing but firmness and strict justice will avert a bloody day of reckoning. Nothing but prompt and effective veto on every attempt to break or stretch the spirit of past undertakings will bring it home to the Transvaal Government that all the give cannot be on the one side and all the take on the other; that they cannot trade for ever on the embarrassment of a big Power in dealing with a little one; and that they must comport themselves with due regard to their responsibilities.
Almost the first use made by the Transvaal Government of their recovered power was one which has wrought much mischief to the State. The Triumvirate who ruled the country in 1882 granted numbers of concessions, ostensibly for the purpose of opening up industries or developing mining areas. The real reasons are generally considered to have been personal, and the result was the crushing of budding activities, and the severe discouragement of those who were willing to expend capital and energies in legitimate work. Favouritism pure and simple dictated these grants. It is hardly too much to say that the system and spirit then introduced rule to this day, for although the Volksraad has taken definite resolution condemning the principle of monopolies and contracts conferring preferential rights of any sort, the spirit of this resolution is violated whenever the President and Executive deem it fit to do so—witness, for instance, the monopoly granted in December, 1895, for the free importation of produce, which is disguised as a Government agency with a 'commission' to the agent; but it is really a monopoly and nothing else!
The Boers were not satisfied with the Convention of 1881. They desired the removal of the Suzerainty, the cancellation of the clauses referring to natives, and the restoration of the title of the South African Republic in lieu of that of the Transvaal State. They also desired (but did not expect to obtain) complete freedom in regard to their external relations, and they lost no time in trying how far they would be allowed to go in the direction of stretching the spirit of the Convention. Nothing in that ineffectual and miserable document is clearer than the definition of certain boundaries, and the provision that no extension shall be allowed. This hemming of them in—or shutting them up in a kraal, as President Kruger has expressively put it—was intensely repugnant to them. It cut into one of the most deeply-rooted habits of the Boer. His method of trek and expansion has been, to begin by making small hunting excursions into adjacent native territories, to follow up with grazing his cattle there until he created in his own mind a right by prescription, and then to establish it either by force or else by written agreement, too often imperfectly translated. This was oftentimes varied or supplemented by helping the weaker of two rival chiefs, and so demolishing the power of a tribe. The expulsion of the native followed as a natural result.
In the Transvaal itself there was, and still is, an immense quantity of unoccupied land, and the Boers were quite unable to properly control, utilize, and administer their own immense territory, but 'land hunger' is theirs as a birth curse. The individual cannot bear to see the smoke of his neighbour's chimney; he will not cultivate 50 acres, but wants 50,000; the 'nation' wants Africa—no less. They coveted Swaziland, Zululand, Bechuanaland, Matabeleland, Mashonaland, and Tongaland, and set to work by devious methods to establish claims to these countries.
In Bechuanaland they took sides; that is to say, parties of freebooters from the Transvaal took up the cause of certain native chiefs against certain others. The London Convention in 1884 disposed of this quarrel by fixing the south-western boundaries of the Republic, and placing two of the disputing chiefs under the Transvaal, and the other two under British protection. Notwithstanding this, however, the new Convention was no sooner signed than the scheming was resumed, and before a year had passed a party of Transvaal Boers, several of them now holding high official positions under the Republic, raided the territory of the chiefs in the British Protectorate, and even attacked the chief town Mafeking. This was followed by a proclamation by President Kruger placing the territory under the protection of the Republic. Mr. Rhodes, who had already made himself conspicuous by his advocacy of holding the highway to the interior open, was instrumental in inducing the Imperial Government to make a determined stand against this. An ultimatum moved the Transvaal Government to withdraw the proclamation and forced the Boers to leave the country—only, however, when and because the demand was backed by the Warren expedition at a cost of over a million and a half to the British taxpayer! This expedition was sent by Mr. Gladstone, the Boer benefactor—notwithstanding all his anxiety to prove the Transvaal settlement a good one! The action of the Transvaal, and the most brutal murder of Mr. Bethell by the individuals above referred to as holding high official positions under the Republic, gave indications of the bent of the Boer authorities which people in South Africa did not fail to take note of. Bethell had been wounded in the invasion of the territory by the Boers, and as he lay helpless the 'prominent Transvaal official' came up and, seeing a repeating rifle lying beside him, asked him to show them how it worked. He did so, and the 'prominent official' taking it up under pretext of examining it shot Bethell dead with his own weapon.
In Zululand similar tactics were resorted to by the Republic. Transvaal Boers invaded Zululand and (1884) took up the cause of Dinizulu, a son of the dead Cetewayo, and established him as king, upsetting Sir Garnet Wolseley's settlement. They then proceeded to seize the country, but the British Government intervening at this point, rescued some two-thirds for the Zulus. A glance at the map will show that the intention of the Boers was to get to the sea, and also that the unlucky Zulus, who had been broken by the British Government—and very rightly too—because they were a menace to the Transvaal, even more than to Natal, were now deprived of the pick of their country, plundered and harried by the very people who had been at their mercy until the Imperial Government stepped in. It is very noteworthy that, with the splendid exception of the lion-hearted Piet Uys and his sons, who fought and died (father and one son) in the Zulu war side by side with the Britishers whom he was keenly opposing on the annexation question, none of the Boers came forward to help in the Secocoeni or Zulu wars, although these wars were undertaken, the one entirely, and the other mainly, on their account. But a great many were ready to raid and annex as soon as the Zulu power was broken.
Swaziland became in turn the object of the Boer Government's attentions. First, grazing concessions were obtained; and next, other concessions for the collection of Customs and Revenue dues, for telegraphs, railways, banking, surveying, and goodness only knows what. One individual applied for and obtained a concession for the balance of ungranted concessions, and another applied for a grant of the Chief Justiceship. What chance the unfortunate native had in such a condition of things can be imagined. The Transvaal bought up all the concessions necessary to make government of the country absolutely impossible, except with their cooperation. The secret service fund of the Republic provided means for making the representatives of the Swazi nation see things in a reasonable light, so that when the time came to investigate the title to concessions and to arrange for the future administration of the country the result was a foregone conclusion. The judge appointed by the Imperial Government on the Special Joint Commission to inquire into the concessions and matters in general let some light on the manner in which these concessions were acquired and granted, by pertinent questions to the concessionaires and interpreters. He asked, for instance, 'Do you swear that you interpreted this document verbatim to the king?'—'Yes.' 'Will you kindly tell to the Court what is the Kaffir for "ad valorem duties" and "et cetera, et cetera, et cetera," or how you interpreted and explained the significance of the "survey," "mint," "revenue," and "townships" concessions?'
The picture of the obese and drunken chief surrounded by fawning harpies was a shameful and disgusting one. One example is sufficient to show how the thing was done. A concession for gambling was applied for. The man who interpreted knew a smattering of 'kitchen' Kaffir, and his rendering of the 'monopoly for billiards, card playing, lotteries, and games of chance' was that he alone should be allowed to 'tchia ma-ball (hit the balls), hlala ma-paper (play the papers), and tata zonki mali (and take all the money).' The poor drunken king nodded sleepily to the first two clauses, but to the bald proposition of taking all the money, which he could understand, he violently objected. The concession was, however, subsequently granted on the representations of a more tactful interpreter.
A very flagrant breach of the spirit of the London Convention, and a very daring attempt at land-grabbing, was the proposed last will and testament of the Swazi King Umbandine, which provided that the governing powers should be assigned to Mr. Kruger as executor of the King and trustee and administrator of the country. His project was defeated; but the aim of the Boer Government was ultimately achieved, nevertheless, and Swaziland has now been handed over to the control of the Republic in spite of the prayers and protestations of the Swazis themselves, who had proved in the past with very practical results to be useful, ready, and loyal allies of the British Government.
While Swaziland was being entoiled the Transvaal Government were not idle elsewhere. Matabeleland was looked upon as the heritage of the Boer, because of the 'old friendship' with the Matabele,—whom they had driven out of their country, now the Transvaal; and Mashonaland was theirs because it was their ancient hunting-ground. That the Boers did not abandon their old schemes merely because they had agreed by treaty to do so is shown by a letter which was found at Lo Bengula's kraal by Mr. F. Thompson when he went up to negotiate for Mr. Rhodes. The stealthy grovelling of the Commandant-General before a savage native chief, the unctuous phraseology, the hypocritical assurances of an undying friendship between Boer and Matabele so long as there are living one of each race, throw a lurid light upon the conduct of Boer diplomacy with native tribes, and explain much of the ineradicable fear and distrust which are felt on the native side in all dealings with the aggressive Boer. The letter reads: