CHAPTER I

POLITICAL SUICIDE--HERESY

The day after their return, Steve heard faint rumours of a certain conference which had been held in Pretoria the last few days in reference to territories lying beyond the northern borders of the South African Republic. He had been too busy attending to accumulated work to take much notice, or to inquire about it. But now it was evening and after dinner, and he was comfortably seated in an arm-chair in the sitting-room of his boarding-house. He was listening to the usual after-dinner debate on current topics.

‘What is that you are saying about the Transvaal signing its own death warrant, Thomson?’ he asked.

‘I say that the Transvaal signs its own death warrant in agreeing to waive any rights they may have northward or westward of their present boundary. It means that they are now definitely enclosed by British territory with the exception of the strip of border which adjoins Portuguese territory.’

‘And what consideration is promised the Transvaal as compensation for committing political and national suicide in this way?’ inquired Steve.

‘Oh, they have some verbal promise to the effect that they will be allowed to annex Swaziland _later_ on, and some faint hope is held out to them to be allowed some day to secure a seaport in Amatongaland.’

‘But if they have Swaziland and Amatongaland beyond, right up to the sea, thus securing a seaport, how can they be enclosed? That means that they would be less enclosed than they are now by British territory,’

‘Ha, ha!’ laughed Thomson. ‘Do you think they will ever get it? No, my dear fellow, I am sorry to disappoint you, but a verbal promise does not count in diplomacy. Swaziland they may get--perhaps--but a seaport--never. It was only a bait held out to the stupid Boers. The bait will be drawn in gradually, until the Boers are enticed into the trap laid for them, when even the bait will be taken from them, and they will be starved out in the trap, until, like a starved and trapped lion, they will have to submit. The joke of the whole thing is that Hofmeyr, the head of the Colonial Afrikander Bond, has been used by Rhodes to accomplish his object.’

‘Yes, you are right. But it is not a joke, it is disgraceful, shameful, to be bitten thus by your own dogs. I wonder that a man like Hofmeyr--who is supposed to be a patriotic Afrikander--cannot see what he is assisting to do. Can’t he see that he is assisting Rhodes to kill all the national vitality of the Afrikander race in South Africa? Does he not know that round the independence of the Transvaal revolves the whole hope of Afrikander national existence? Is he blind, or is he a traitor? I used to be proud of the Afrikander Bond, but now I am beginning to be ashamed of them, when they support a man like Rhodes. A man who works, firstly, for self-aggrandizement, and secondly, of course, for Imperialism.’

All the Englishmen present laughed at Steve’s earnestness and bitterness against Hofmeyr for working thus against the Transvaal. But they were accustomed to his earnest patriotism, and respected him for it.

‘Well, old boy, it may be that Hofmeyr has been squared by Rhodes; who knows? Rhodes is known for his squaring propensities. Or it may be that Hofmeyr is wiser than you, and has seen that it is foolish to kick against the pricks, and that it is better to belong to the glorious British Empire, with its traditions of military power and glory, its traditions of wealth in gold and literature.’

‘It may be so,’ replied Steve; ‘but as a leading Afrikander, I would rather hope and believe that he is only blind, and that some day his eyes will be opened, and that he shall see Rhodes as he is. As to cornering the Transvaal, let them go on. Only I would warn our enemies that though we are a quiet and peace-loving people, preferring to till the land and herd our cattle to fighting, yet I say I warn Rhodes and his clique that an Afrikander at bay is fiercer and more dangerous than any tiger or lion at bay, so let them look out.’

‘But, Steve, why are you such an intense Republican? why will you not be satisfied to live under the English flag? Then you would have the right to call upon the whole British Empire to protect you. Then you would be a member of the greatest nation on earth. Then you can say, “I am a subject to a queen upon whose dominions the sun never sets.” Is not that better than to have a second-rate republic, with no traditions older than say twenty years; with hardly any literature at all; what more would you have than I have said you would have as a British subject?’

‘We would be FREE!’ was Steve’s curt reply.

‘Free! what is the good of being free in a country like this? As I have said, you can only hope to have a second-rate republic, the population of which at best is but a mongrel race.’

‘A mongrel race!’ echoed Steve. ‘We _are_ a mixed race, if you like, but a mixture of the best blood of Europe. In our veins run the best blood of France, Holland and Germany. We are descended from heroes; our forefathers have been heroes ever since they left their ancestral homes in Europe for religion and principle: and we are heroes to-day, struggling, as we are, for national existence and freedom, and that against the mightiest empire on earth, as you describe it; but justice and right must prevail in the end. A mongrel race, you say? A race, I say, that has the grandest future before them of any race upon earth. Look at them; toiling sons of Nature! Do they not remind you of the rough diamonds dug out in Kimberley? hardy, strong, persevering, unpretending, but God-fearing as they are. Look at the few of them that have received the least bit of polish. Do they not shine enough to blind your eyes as you look upon them? Wait till they have all been polished and rubbed into shape, and then you will see what a race of men God has raised in this wilderness?’ Steve’s eyes were shining with enthusiasm. He seemed to see in imagination the future he was describing.

‘You have made out a very good case for your people as a nation, Steve, but what will you do with all the Englishmen in South Africa if it should become an Afrikander republic, as you seem to wish and hope? Will you drive them out of the country, or will you let them live an Uitlander race for ever here, as this Government is doing now? Will you exclude them from your future great South African nation?’

‘Decidedly not. We should be only too pleased to have them unite with us. I don’t know why they should remain Imperialistic for ever. In America they did not remain so! _There_ they have united with other nationalities; why should they not do so here? Anyone who desires to become an Afrikander, be he English, Dutch, German, French, or even Russian by birth, all we should wish of them will be to have one object with us in promoting the happiness and peace of Republican South Africa.’

‘In short, they may be of whatever European nationality they like, but they must be for _Republicanism_?’

‘Even so!’

‘Now, Steve, you have defeated me at all points, I am almost bound to confess. It is a glorious object towards which you are tending, viz., a great and free _united South Africa_. But why does not your Government, whom you defend so much, make some beginning towards a union of the races by granting the franchise to all Uitlanders in this State?’

‘Because the time has not come yet. To grant the franchise now to everyone would be simply killing our future great nation in its infancy. Grant the franchise now to all strangers (of which the great majority are English), and in a year’s time this country will be governed, either as an English republic, with capitalistic rulers, or as an English colony, neither of which are desirable, you will grant--from our standpoint. While, if we had South Africa united as a republic, there would be no obstacle in the way of granting the franchise to everybody, as the main object would be attained then, and we would be strong enough to hold our own against any party of either foreigners, Imperialists or capitalists who may seek to overthrow us again.’

‘Even there I must say you are right; I am almost inclined to become an Afrikander already. Now I am afraid you will not be able to answer my next question as well. You may think it immaterial, but I think it of great importance, that a people and a country should possess a literature of its own. What have you to say to that?’

‘Of course we cannot pretend to possess a varied and extended literature like England has. There can be no question of rivalry as yet. But we are not altogether without a literature of our own. We have our own patriotic songs, and even poems. We have a few authors, too, of whom we need not be ashamed, chief amongst these we count Mrs Cornwright Schreiner, whose thoughtful book is read all the world over. Then we have the literature of our mother countries--Holland, France and Germany. We love to read the stories which tell of the vicissitudes of our forefathers in their own countries. We even take a sort of sad delight in reading of the persecutions our ancestors had to undergo for their religious opinions; persecutions which led either to the scaffold, or to banishment. Then, as I have said, we have the literature of Holland and other countries which has been translated into our language. We read all historical, religious, secular poetry or prose; all is grist to our mill, we only seek knowledge, and as we are thoroughly cosmopolitan, we care not from whose experience or knowledge, we can learn.

‘Then we have hope of future advancement in this line. Rome was not built in a day, and you cannot expect us to be the only exception to the rule, that it takes time to perfect all things. As education advances, and we begin to feel more and more that we are a people of some account, our national abilities will develop, and we may expect to gradually advance towards perfection in all things, such as national administration, education, literature, etc. Give us time!’

‘Well, I am glad to see that you are honest enough to acknowledge your defects, as well as to extol your virtues and natural abilities. I certainly grant the material for developement is there. It was only a week ago I saw a manuscript poem, which was written by a brick-maker, a poor Boer, who, unkempt, ill-clothed and unshaved, appeared to me as if he were incapable of stringing two thoughts together, and yet, as far as I could understand the short poem, which was written in the _Taal_, was admirable and forcible enough, though crude and rough in expression. I fancy if such a fellow had received a fair education he would have done something.’

‘Talking about natural abilities,’ remarked Theron, ‘I saw a couple of gravestones, made by one Joubert of this district, at his farm, the other day. It was made from a design in a book of patterns supplied to him by a friend. It was simply splendid! The angels, vines and flowers, as shown in the pattern, were brought out in grand relief and were most accurately delineated. I do not think the most skilled artisan could improve on it. Then there were a few others made from designs of his own, composed of flowers, ferns and other natural objects, all in the best of taste and design, and in perfect proportion. This man had never been taught sculpture, engraving or any of the kindred arts; it was simply his own natural taste and ability cropping out.’

‘Yes,’ remarked another one, ‘I have often wondered at the skill of some Boers, as shown in the manufacture of various articles of furniture and nick-nacks generally. They seem to do it all without being taught or shown.’

‘What surprises me more than all,’ remarked Harrison, ‘is the oratorical powers displayed by some of these uneducated Boers. I attended a sitting of the Volksraad the other day, and the speeches were simply grand. The earnestness and pointed argument, as well as the connected phrasing, was most surprising from men who had received no more education than how to read their Bible and to crudely write an ordinary letter. Then I attended a funeral a short time ago, at which a leading member of the Volksraad gave a funeral oration as well as a really good sermon; and, listening to him, I could hardly believe that I was not listening to a learned and perfectly educated minister of the Gospel.’

‘You have only to read some of the letters on public questions, such as often appear in the Dutch papers, written by them, to get some idea of the natural abilities of the unlearned Boer,’ remarked Steve, rising and leaving the room, as he was tired and wanted to go to bed.