Part 1
Transcribed from the 1879 James Clarke & Co. edition by David Price, email [email protected]
[Picture: Public domain book cover]
IMPERIALISM IN SOUTH AFRICA.
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J. EWING RITCHIE.
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London: JAMES CLARKE & CO., 13 & 14, FLEET STREET. 1879.
_Price Sixpence_.
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IMPERIALISM IN SOUTH AFRICA.
ANNEXATION OF THE TRANSVAAL.
IT is vain to dispute the fact that those Puritan Fathers—who, upon one occasion, held a meeting, and resolved first that the earth was the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof; secondly, that it was the heritage of the saints; and that thirdly, they were the saints, and were, therefore, justified in depriving the natives of their grounds, and in taking possession of them themselves—had a full share of that English faculty of appropriation which has made England the mistress of the seas, and for a while, almost, the ruler of the world; and, as Englishmen, we cannot say that on the whole that wholesale system, which has planted the British flag in every quarter of the globe, has been disastrous to the communities ruled over, or dishonourable to the nation itself. In some cases undoubtedly we have acted unjustly; in some cases the lives and happiness of millions have been placed in incompetent hands; in some cases we have had selfish rulers and incapable officers; but India and Canada and the West Indian Islands and Australia and New Zealand are the better for our rule. An Englishman may well be proud of what his countrymen have done, and it becomes us to review the past in no narrow, carping, and censorious spirit. We have spent money by millions, but then we are rich, and the expenditure has not been an unproductive one. We have sacrificed valuable lives, but the men who have fallen have been embalmed in the nation’s memory, and the story of their heroism will mould the character and fire the ambition and arouse the sympathies of our children’s children, as they did those of our fathers in days gone by; and yet there is a danger lest we undertake responsibilities beyond our means, and find ourselves engaged in contests utterly needless in the circumstances of the case, and certain to result in a vain effusion of blood and expenditure of money. As far as South Africa is concerned, this is emphatically the case. Originally the Cape Settlement was but a fort for the the coast. The country is subject to drought, and seems chiefly to be inhabited by diamond diggers, ostrich farmers, and wool growers. Its great agricultural resources are undeveloped, because labour is dear, and all carriage to the coast is expensive. The English never stop in the colonies, but return to England as soon as they have made a fortune. Living is quite as dear as in England, and in many parts dearer. In the Cape Colony, the chief amusements of all classes are riding, driving, shooting, and billiards. In the interior there are fine views to be seen, and in some quarters an abundance of game. The thunderstorms are frightful, the rivers, dry in summer, are torrents in winter. The droughts, the snakes, the red soil dust, and the Kaffirs, are a perpetual nuisance to all decent people. “Although South Africa is a rising colony,” writes Sir Arthur Cunynghame, “I hardly think it offers to the emigrant the chances which he would obtain in Australia or New Zealand. South Africa is not a very rich country. Labour is hard to obtain, and it will be years before irrigation can be carried on a sufficient scale to make agriculture a brilliant Success. Nevertheless, land is so abundant that the energetic colonist is sure, at least, to make a living, and provided he does not drink, has a good chance of becoming a rich man.” A great deal of money is made by ostrich farming and sheep grazing, but they are occupations which require capital. As to cereals, it pays better to buy them than to grow them. A cabbage appears to be a costly luxury, and the price of butter is almost prohibitive. “South Africa,” wrote a _Saturday Reviewer_ recently, “is the paradise of hunters, and the purgatory of colonists.” The remark is not exactly true, but for all practical purposes it may be accepted as the truth. If this be so, how is it, then, it may be asked, we English have been so anxious to get possession of the country? The answer is, We hold the Cape of Good Hope to be desirable as a port of call and harbour of refuge on our way to India; but the opening of the Suez Canal has changed all that, and the reason for which we took it from the Dutch in 1806 does not exist now. Whether the country has ever made a penny by the Cape remains to be proved.
In taking possession of the Cape of Good Hope, we found there a people whom we have annexed against their will, and of whom we have made bitter enemies. These were the original Dutch settlers, or Boers, a primitive, pastoral people, with a good deal of the piety of the Pilgrim Fathers, and who set to work to exterminate the pagans much after the fashion of the Jews, of whom we read in the Old Testament. Their plan of getting rid of the native difficulty was a very effective one. They either made the native a slave, or they drove him away. Mr. Thomas Pringle, one of our earliest colonists, says, “Their demeanour towards us, whom they might be supposed naturally to regard with exceeding jealousy, if not dislike, was more friendly and obliging than could, under all the circumstances, have been expected.” They were, he says, uncultivated, but not disagreeable, neighbours, exceedingly shrewd at bargain making; but they were civil and good-natured, and, according to the custom of the country, extremely hospitable; and the same testimony has been borne to them by later travellers. They lived as farmers, and the life agreed with them. The men are finely made, and out of them a grand empire might be raised. In 1815 they made an effort to shake off the British yoke. A Hottentot, named Booy, appeared at the magistrate’s office at Cradock, and complained of the oppressive conduct of a Boer of the name of Frederick Bezuidenhout. Inquiry was accordingly made. The Boer admitted the facts, but, instead of yielding to the magistrate’s order, he boldly declared that he considered this interference between himself and his Hottentot to be a presumptuous innovation upon his rights, and an intolerable usurpation of authority. He told the field-cornet that he set at defiance both himself and the magistrate who had sent him on this officious errand, and, to give further emphasis to his words, he fell violently upon poor Boor, gave him a severe beating, and then bade him go and tell the civil authorities that he would treat them in the same manner if they should dare to come upon his grounds to claim the property of a Hottentot. It must be remembered that when the Boers were handed over to us, without their leave or without their consent being in any way asked, each Boer had perfect control over the liberty and life and limb of every Hottentot under his control. It was only thus he believed his property was safe, and his throat uncut. But to return to Bezuidenhout. The Cape Government could not allow his defiance to pass unheeded. An expedition was sent out against him, and he was shot. The affair excited a great sensation in the country. At a numerous assemblage of the Boers in the neighbourhood, it was resolved to revenge his death. They did more; they resolved to be independent of the hateful British yoke; but, it is needless to add, in vain. England, after putting down Napoleon, and triumphing at Waterloo, was in no mood to be defied by a handful of Dutch farmers in a distant quarter of the globe. But the Cape Government had Kaffir wars to fight, and they could not afford to treat the Boers as absolute enemies, and they were rewarded with a large portion of the territory, won from the Kaffirs in 1819. But this was not sufficient for their earth-hunger. They crossed the boundaries, and, with their lives in their hands, planted themselves among the savages. In 1838 they went off still further from British rule. In that year the slaves were manumitted, and a sum of money was voted as a compensation to the Boers. To the shame of the British Government, it must be confessed that the equivalent was never paid them. Despairing of ever receiving it, they sold their rights to Jews and middlemen, and trekked far out into the country into the districts known as Griqualand, Natal, the Orange Free State, and the Transvaal. It is because we have followed them there, when there was no need to have done so, that we are now engaged in a costly and bloody war. First we seized Natal; then we took possession of the Diamond Fields, and our last act was the annexation of the Transvaal. How far this system of annexation is to spread, it is impossible to say. It is equally impossible to state what will be its cost in treasure and in men. It seems equally difficult to say upon whom the blame of this annexation system rests. It really seems as if we were villains, as Shakespeare says, by necessity and fools by a divine thrusting on. We should have left the Boers alone. They were not British subjects, and did not want to be such. Natal was not British territory when they settled there, neither was the Orange Free State Territory; and, at any rate, in 1854 their independence, which had been persistently fought for, and nobly won, was acknowledged by the British Government as regards the Orange Free State and the Transvaal. Surely in South Africa there was room for the Englishman and the Boer, and if it had not been for the dream of Imperialism, which seems to dominate the brain of our colonial rulers, the two nations might have lived and flourished side by side. The Boer, at any rate, has made himself at home on the soil. It agrees with him physically. In the Orange State and the Transvaal he made good roads, and built churches and schools and gaols, and turned the wilderness into a fruitful field. In reply to the English who pleaded for annexation, he said, “We fled from you years ago; leave us in peace. We shall pay our debts early enough; your presence can but tend to increase them, and to drive us through fresh wanderings, through new years of bloodshed and misery, to seek homes whither you will no longer follow us. We conquered and peopled Natal; you reaped the fruits of that conquest. What have you done for that colony? Do you seek to do with our Transvaal as you have done with it, to make our land a place of abomination, defiled with female slavery, reeking with paganism, and likely, as Natal is, only too soon to be red with blood?”
“The Transvaal,” wrote one who knew South Africa well—the late Mr. Thomas Baines—“will yet command the admiration of the world for the perseverance, the primitive manliness and hardihood of its pioneers.” As a proof of advancing prosperity, when he was there in 1860 its one-pound notes had risen in value till four were taken for a sovereign, and several hundred pounds’ worth had been called in and publicly burnt upon the market-place. It is a proof of the simplicity of the people that on that occasion the Boers and Doppers (adult Baptists) crowded wrathfully around, and bitterly commented on the wastefulness of their Government in wickedly destroying so much of the money of their Republic; while others, of more advanced views, discussed the means of raising them still further in value, and sagely remarked that because they had been printed in Holland the English would not take them, but that if others were printed in London they would certainly be as good as a Bank of England note. In the Volksraad (House of Commons) now and then some amusing scenes occurred. The progressive party wanted, one day, to pass some measure for the opening and improvement of the country, when the opponents, finding themselves in a minority, thought to put the drag on by bringing forward an old law that all members should be attired in black cloth suits and white neckerchiefs. This had the immediate effect of disqualifying so many that the business of the House could not be legally conducted; but an English member who lived next door, slipped out, donned his Sunday best, with a collar and tie worthy of a Christy Minstrel, and resumed his sitting with an army that completely dismayed the anti-progressionists. The latest authority, Sir Arthur Cunynghame, testifies to this simplicity as still the characteristic of the Dutch. “Some little time before our arrival,” he writes, “a German conjurer had visited this distant little village, when the Doppers were so alarmed at his tricks that they left the room in which he was exhibiting, and, assembling in prayer, entreated to be relieved of the devil who had come amongst them.” He tells the story of a Jew, who in dealing with a Boer had made a miscalculation, which the Boer pointed out, appealing to his ready-reckoner. Not in the least taken aback, the Israelite replied, “Oh, this is a ready-reckoner of last year!” and the poor Boer was done. A further illustration of their simplicity is to be found in the fact that when they trekked from the Cape they fancied that they were on their way to Egypt, and, having reached in the Transvaal a considerable river which falls into the Limpopo, thought they were there, and called it the Nyl—a name which it still retains. In accordance with their serious teaching, they gave Scriptural names to their settlements and villages; and if they were severe on the natives, and ruled them with a rod of iron, did not the Jews act in a similar manner to the Hivites and the Hittites, and did not Samuel command Saul to hew Agag in pieces before the Lord?
It is to be feared that the Boers have never had justice done to them by our rulers. We had no claim on them. It was to escape British rule that they, with their wives and children, their men-servants and maid-servants, their oxen, and their sheep, their horses and their asses, went forth into the wilderness. Even Mr. Trollope admits that when they took possession of Natal, “there was hardly a native to be seen, the country having been desolated by the King of the Zulus. It was the very place for the Dutch, fertile without interference, and with space for every one.” There they would have settled, as did the Pilgrim Fathers on the other side of the Atlantic, and built up a flourishing State, but we followed them, and drove them away. If they had been allowed to remain, the English Government and the English people would have been saved a good deal of trouble. At any rate, we should never have heard of the native difficulty in Natal—the difficulty which keeps away the emigration required to develop the resources of a country happily situated in many respects; the difficulty which must ever be felt by a handful of English in the presence of a horde of polygamous and untutored savages who will not work, and who, alas! are not ashamed to beg. Natal, had the Dutch been left peaceably in possession of it, would have been by this time the home of a God-fearing, civilised community, instead of swarming with Pagans who have fled there from the cruelties of their native kings, and who learn to treat their protectors with insolent contempt. In Natal, the English shopkeeper has to speak to his customers in their own language. Where the Boers hold sway it is otherwise. In the Dutch parts of the Cape Colony, Captain Aylward writes: “The coloured people are tame, submissive, and industrious, speaking the language of their instructors and natural masters. As I proceeded further on my journey through the Transvaal,” continues the same writer, “I saw in various directions gardens, fruitful orchards, and small, square houses in the possession of blacks, who were living in a condition of ordinary propriety, having abandoned polygamy and other horrid customs resulting from it. So great an improvement I had not noticed during any part of my previous residence in Natal.” It is a pity that we have made the Boers our enemies; and the worst of it is, in their determination not to be English the women, according to Captain Aylward, have been a wonderful aid to the men. They have suffered for that spirit. It has called them from the homesteads built by their fathers, the rich lands where the grapes clustered and the sheep fattened, and the fields were white for the harvest. In 1841 Major Charteris wrote: “The spirit of dislike to English rule was remarkably dominant among the women. Many of those who had formerly lived in affluence but were now in comparative want, and subject to all the inconveniences accompanying the insecure state in which they were existing, having lost, moreover, their husbands and brothers by the savage, still rejected with scorn the idea of returning to the colony. If any of the men began to drop or lose courage they urged them on to fresh exertions, and kept alive the spirit of resistance within them.” Sir Arthur Cunynghame has nothing but praise for the Boers. On his way to the Diamond Fields he stopped at Hanover, which, he says, “has a grand appearance, the Dutch minister’s house, standing in the centre, being quite a palace. It was built by the subscriptions of his parishioners. The honours which the Dutch lavish on the ministry are worthy of remark.” Equally worthy of remark is their hospitality and their piety. The farmer gives his guest the best entertainment he can provide, and “before the family retires to rest the large Bible is opened and the chapter appropriate to the day is read.” On another occasion, Sir Arthur’s party encamp near the residence of a rich Dutch farmer, who refused admission to his house and would not even sell them an egg; yet he records the fact that, “late in the evening the sounds of the Evening Hymn floated over the plain, the nasal twang of the patriarch being distinctly heard leading the choir, while female voices, with their plaintive notes, chimed in. It is pleasant,” adds Sir Arthur, “to hear in these lone lands such evidence of a religions sentiment pervading the community, and it is an assurance that the people are contented and happy.” Sir Arthur writes:—“There are no finer young men in the world than the young Dutch Boers, who are generally of immense height and size, and very hardy. Their life is spent in the open air by day, and frequently at night they sleep on the veldt, with no tent or covering. Men more fit for the Grenadier Guards, as to personal appearance, could not be found. Some of them are plucky. A Boer had part of his hand blown off by the bursting of his gun. Having no doctor near, he directed his son to bring his hammer and chisel, and shape off his fingers.” As an Irishman, Captain Aylward is enthusiastic as regards the personal charms of the ladies. Many of the elder ones even, he admits, are not uncomely, and in the wild neighbourhood of Lydenberg itself, he tells us, are to be seen some bearing traces of beauty of no ordinary character, whose lives, he says, somewhat unnecessarily, are useful, adorning, and cheering the homes of their husbands and children. These people are somewhat unlettered, and very phlegmatic. “They do not wish,” writes Sir Arthur Cunynghame, “to move ten miles from their own door, nor to see one who comes from ten miles beyond it.” Their moral discipline also seems somewhat severe. “In the little fort,” writes Captain Aylward, “was an English storekeeper, named Glynn, whose daughters had a piano, on which they would occasionally play dance and other profane music. This was a source of great annoyance to their pious neighbours, who, in many respects, resembled our early Puritans. It was requested that the piano should be silenced, as the music might tempt the anger of Heaven if persisted in during a time of war and trial. If a girl in the laager were frivolous or light in her conduct, she was liable to be arrested, and brought for trial before the Fathers of the Church, from whom she might receive a severe caution, or even the punishment of removal.” At Lydenberg, at the time of Sir Arthur’s visit, an altercation had taken place on the unrighteousness of dancing, for which a party was tried by the Synod; but an appeal was made to the Court, and this appeal formed an important epoch in the history of the town. To show how primitive these Boers are, let us take the following story:—A schoolmaster was lately appointed in Zoutspanberg. One of his earliest lessons was to teach the children that the world turned upon its own axis. He also endeavoured to make them understand the revolutions of the heavenly bodies. The children went home, and were impertinent to their parents, and told them that the earth went round the sun. The elders of the district met, and consulted regarding these new doctrines, and finally agreed to refer the subject to the minister, who requested the schoolmaster to explain. The schoolmaster said, “I teach them nothing but the movements of the heavenly bodies, and that the earth revolves round the sun.” The minister answered, “Well, this may be true, no doubt, and what the earth does in Holland; but it would be more convenient at present if in the Zoutspanberg you would allow the sun still to go round the earth for a few years longer. We do not like sudden changes in such matters.” The schoolmaster took the hint, and the sun continued to go round the earth as usual. The power of the minister of a parish is very great. A great deal depends upon him for the improvement and well-being of the town. Many a time it was said to Sir Arthur, when he observed that a town was flourishing, “Yes, we are fortunate in our minister;” and when it was falling back it was, “Ah! all will alter when we get rid of our present minister.”