All the foregoing applies to the middle-class section of the refugees. The poorer ones grumbled also, but in a different manner, and their irritation was rather directed towards the military authorities. As for the millionaires, with a few exceptions they also did not care for the High Commissioner for reasons elaborated in earlier pages of this volume. They even considered that it would be prejudicial to their interests to allow Rhodes to be upon too intimate terms with Sir Alfred Milner, so they kept a faithful watch at Government House as well as at Groote Schuur, and in doing so added to the tension which, up to the last moment of Sir Alfred's tenure of office at Cape Town, existed between him and Cecil Rhodes. Too courteous to tell his redoubtable adversary that he had better mind his own business, convinced, on the other hand, of the latter's great capacities and great patriotism, Sir Alfred was constantly doing all that he could do in reason to pacify him. Cecil Rhodes used to make most bitter and untrue remarks as to the stupidity of the Imperial Government at home and the incapacity of the men in charge of its armies in South Africa. All this was repeated right and left with the usual exaggeration, and reached, as perhaps was intended, those whom it concerned. The result was that Rhodes found himself tabooed at Pretoria. This he said was due to the great fear which his influence over public opinion in South Africa inspired among those in command there.
The big trouble with Rhodes was that he would never own himself in the wrong. He quibbled, he hesitated, he postponed replies to questions submitted for his consideration. He wearied everybody around him with his constant prevarications in regard to facts he ought to have accepted without flinching if he wanted to regain some of his lost prestige. Unfortunately for himself and for the cause of peace in South Africa, Rhodes fancied himself immensely clever at "biding his time," as he used to say. He had ever lurking somewhere in his brain the conviction that one day the whole situation at Cape Town and Pretoria would become so entangled that they would have to send for him to beg him as a favour to step round and by his magic touch unravel all difficulties. His curious shyness, his ambition and his vanity battled with each other so long that those in authority at last came to the sad conclusion that it was far better to look elsewhere for support in their honest efforts at this important moment in the existence of the African Continent.
One last attempt was made. It was backed up by people in London, among others by Stead. Stead liked the Great Imperialist as well as one man can like another, and had a great and justified confidence in Rhodes' good heart as well as in that indefinable nobility which manifested itself at times in his strange, wayward nature. Moreover, being gifted with a keen sense of intuition, the famous journalist realised quite well the immense work that might have been done by England through Rhodes had the latter consented to sweep away those men around him who were self-interested.
But Rhodes preferred to maintain his waiting attitude, whilst trying at the same time to accumulate as many proofs as possible that people wanted him to assert himself at last. It was the fact that these proofs were denied to him at the very minute when he imagined he held them already in his hands which led to his suddenly turning once more against the persons he had been almost on the point of propitiating. It led him to begin the movement for the suspension of the Constitution in Cape Colony, out of which he expected so much and which he intended to use as his principal weapon against the enemies whom he suspected. That was the last great political venture in his life; it failed, but merciful Providence allowed him not to see the utter collapse of his latest house of cards.
CHAPTER XVI.
UNDER MARTIAL LAW
It may be useful, or at any rate of interest, before I lay my pen aside, to refer to several things which, at the time they occurred, caused torrents of ink to flow both in England and in South Africa.
The most important, perhaps, was the application of martial law in Cape Colony. I must repeat that I hold no brief for England. My affection and admiration for her does not go to the extent of remaining absolutely blind to faults she has made in the past, and perhaps is making in the present. I will not deny that martial law, which, unfortunately, is a necessity in wartime, was sometimes applied with severity in South Africa. But the odium rests principally on the loyalists; their spiteful information in many cases induced British officers to treat as rebels people who had never even dreamt of rebellion.
It must not be forgotten that those to whom was entrusted the application of martial law had perforce to rely on local residents, whom they could not possibly suspect of using these officers to satisfy private animosities of further private interests. These British officers had never been used to see suspicion reign as master, or to watch a perfectly conscious twisting of the truth in order to condemn, or even destroy, innocent people. A young and probably inexperienced officer sent into a small place like Aliwal North or Uitenhage, for instance, found himself obliged to rely for information as to the loyalty of the inhabitants on some adventurer who, through capitalist influence, had obtained an executive post of some kind. How can one wonder, therefore, that many regrettable incidents occurred and were immediately made capital of by the Bond party further to embitter the feelings of the Dutch Colonists?
Many illegal acts were performed under martial law; of some a mention was made in the Cape Town Parliament; these, therefore, do not admit of doubt. For instance, as Mr. Neethling said in the Legislative Council, a man of seventy was sent down from Paarl to Beaufort West without being allowed to say good-bye to his wife, who was left behind without means of support. Their house was searched for papers, but without result, and the man—a member of the Afrikander Bond—was sent back, after eighteen months' deportation, without any charge having been made against him. He was an auctioneer and shipping agent, and during his absence his business was annexed by a rival. One British Colonial, who held office at Stellenbosch, said to one family, without even making an inquiry as to their conduct, "You are rebels and I will take your mules"—which was done. The mules were afterwards sold to the Commissariat Department by the man who had commandeered them. Is it a matter of astonishment, therefore, that many people felt sore and bitter at all that they had undergone and were going through?