Of course these conditions could hardly be called conditions, except the conditions extracted from Jameson, that they would lay down their arms and pay all expenses; and even that followed as a natural result on defeat. While the promise given by the commandant, that his life would be safe-guarded while in transit to Pretoria was also but a natural result of civilised warfare (if fighting a filibustering murdering foe could be called civilised warfare), and would have followed in any case, promise or no promise. But the promise was given, as Jameson and his officers seemed to fear the anger of the justly incensed Burghers.
When the white flag was hoisted by the Chartered troopers, the Burghers were distrustful. They reasoned thus: ‘These people are not to be trusted. They came into our country in a treacherous manner. They slunk in when they thought we were off our guard. Now, having acted once in a treacherous manner, are they not capable of acting so again? Is it not their object to draw us out of our position and shelter, and then to cut us down with their Maxims and cannon? No, before we expose ourselves, we must be assured of their honest surrender; and someone must first go and see what they want. Who will go?’ Without a moment’s hesitation Steve jumped on the nearest horse, and rode full speed towards the Chartered troopers. On looking round, he saw he was followed by half-a-dozen more young fellows of the Burgher force. So he was one of the first to speak to the invaders after the white flag was hoisted.
Another incident, tragic in its result, took place after the surrender of the Chartered arms. A young, inexperienced Burgher was curiously handling and examining one of the magazine rifles, forming part of the spoils of war, when, somehow or other, the thing went off, and wounded a fellow-Burgher, standing in front of him. The poor fellow died from the wound.
That careless young man got the severest reprimand from his commandant that ever he had in his life before; but being able to satisfactorily prove that it was an accident, he was not punished. But he seemed sufficiently punished by the thought that he had caused the death of a companion. He seemed to take the disgrace, and the death of the victim much to heart, and hardly spoke for days after. He wept when he left the commandant’s tent.
Jameson’s men received the best attention possible, even on the field of battle. Those who had provisions shared with them; and afterwards they were taken to Krugersdorp, where they were treated more like guests than prisoners. Of course any attempt at escape was guarded against.
Jameson and officers were forwarded to Pretoria without unnecessary delay. Jameson seemed especially sad and broken-hearted. Who knows what hopes were dashed to the ground? Who knows his thoughts when he entered the territory of a State at peace with his own country, into which he was carrying the torch of civil war, murder and famine? It was like taking a lighted torch into a powder magazine. He knew that his advent meant ‘war to the knife’—to the bitter end; and the more success he had at first, the more disastrous must the end be. Had he reached Johannesburg, who could foresee where the bloodshed would have ended? And the thousands of innocent, peaceable citizens of Johannesburg must have suffered, and did suffer, with the guilty. All to satisfy the love of power, glory, and lust of gold of a few unscrupulous men. But be assured, O reader, that, if man does not punish them, a higher power will.
Whatever Jameson’s reward for success was to have been, president (?), governor (?), administrator (?), or prime minister to the modern Emperor Napoleon, I do not know. This I do know, he seemed to recognise that all was lost, that all the grand dreams of power and gold dreamt by him and his fellow-conspirators had vanished into mist; for he never spoke a word but—wept. Would that he had wept tears of repentance at the bloodshed, the distress and heartburnings he had caused, instead of weeping for failure. Or would that he had wept tears of joy that he had failed to set the Powers of the world fighting a terrible war; a war such as Napoleon even never saw. A war that would have changed the destinies of many a nation on earth. A war that would have changed the map of the world, to what extent no one can say. What an escape.
Small things have world-wide effects. The battle of Doornkop saved the world many a battle. Why? Because if Jameson had not been defeated, and had not surrendered, and had reached Johannesburg, Johannesburg would have taken courage. The strong would have been stronger, the wavering would have wavered no more, even the peacefully inclined would have been peaceful no more. The rebellion would have been an accomplished fact. The proclamation, proclaiming the provisional government, instead of being secretly destroyed, and put out of type, would have been proclaimed. Civil war would have raged. England would have stepped in and interfered. And although the South African Republic did NOT ask for European aid, Europe would have interfered. France, Germany, Russia and (believe it if you will or not)—the sister Republic—the United States. The chance would have been too good for these powers to lose the opportunity to give effect to their growing jealousy of the increasing colonial wealth and power of England. The whispered coalition between France, Germany and Russia (which only died out because the fuel on which it was fed gave up, viz., the fear or hope that England would take up the part of the rebels and go against the Boer Government) would have been proclaimed and given effect to. What would have been the result? We can only surmise.
However, one of two things would have happened. England would have been raised to a higher pinnacle of power than she ever occupied before; or—the breaking up of the British Empire.
Well, analyse England’s position.