In the Transvaal no distinction is made between ordinary criminals and
those who in other countries are recognized as first-class misdemeanants.
Consequently the Reformers, without regard to the nature of their offence,
their habits, health, age, or condition, were handed over to the gaoler, Du
Plessis, a relative of President Kruger, to be dealt with at his kind
discretion. For two days the prisoners existed on the ordinary prison fare.
The majority being men in the early prime of life and in excellent health,
suffered no ill effects, preferring to do with little or no food rather than
touch that which was doled out to them; but to the others it was a rather
serious thing. There were several men between fifty and sixty years of age
whose lives had been spent under favourable conditions. There were some
suffering from consumption, one from diabetes, one from fever, one from
dysentery, and several others from less dangerous but sufficiently serious
complaints. All alike were compelled to sleep upon the floor, with two thin
blankets for protection. They were locked in at 6 p.m., and allowed out at 6
a.m. Sanitary accommodation was represented by the presence of a couple of
buckets in the sleeping room. The air-space per man worked out at 145 cubic
feet as against 900 feet prescribed by English prison regulations.
Ventilation was afforded on the one side by square holes cut in the
corrugated iron walls of the shed,{35} and on the other (the buildings being
lean-to's against the permanent prison buildings) by
grated windows opening into the native cells. Needless to say, these grated
windows were originally intended to afford ventilation to the native cells,
but the buildings to accommodate the Reformers had been erected against the
side-walls of the Kaffir quarters. The stench was indescribable. At 6 a.m.
the prisoners were allowed out into the yard, where they had the option of
exercising throughout the day. The lavatories and bathing arrangements
consisted of a tap in the yard and an open furrow through which the town
water ran, the lower end of which was used as a wash-place by prisoners,
white and black alike. Within a foot or two of the furrow where alone
washing of the person or of clothing was allowed stood the gaol urinals.
There was neither adequate provision in this department nor any attempt at
proper supervision, the result being that through irregularities, neglect,
and defective arrangement the ground on both sides of the water-furrow for
six or eight yards was horribly stained and saturated by leakage. Many of
the prisoners could not approach this quarter without being physically ill.
Without further detail it may be stated that there were at that time over
250 prisoners, about 100 of whom were white. There were three closets and
six buckets for the accommodation of all, and removals took place sometimes
once a day, sometimes once in every four days. Nothing but the horror of
such conditions, and the fact that they prevail still in Pretoria Gaol, and
presumably in other gaols more removed from critical supervision, could
warrant allusions to such a disgusting state of affairs.
At 6.15 breakfast was served. A number of tin dishes, containing one
pound of mealie-meal porridge (ground maize) each were placed in a row on
the ground in the yard in the same manner as a dog's food might be set out.
A bucket near by contained some coarse salt in the condition in which it was
collected in the natural salt pans, the cubes varying from the size of peas
to the size of acorns. No sugar, milk, tea, or coffee, was allowed. In order
to utilize the salt the prisoners were obliged to crush it with rough stones
on the cement steps. Needless to say, but few partook of this food. To those
who had not tasted it before in the course of prospecting or up-country
travelling where conditions are sometimes very hard, it
was no more possible to swallow it than to eat sawdust.
Dinner was at twelve o'clock, and it consisted of coarse meat boiled to
that degree which was calculated to qualify the water in which it was boiled
to be called soup, without depriving the meat of all title to be considered
a separate dish. With this meal was also served half a pound of bread.
Supper, which was provided at five o'clock, was exactly the same as
breakfast.
Two days of this fare told very severely upon those whose physical
condition was not of the best. By the third day several of the older men and
those in ill-health had broken down and were placed on hospital fare.
Matters were sufficiently serious to induce the authorities to allow gradual
amelioration of the conditions, and by degrees food of a better class was
introduced. Mattresses and other articles of bedding were allowed, but
stretchers although provided for in the prison regulations were denied to
the men until a few hours before their release a month later, when the
prisoners were permitted by the gaoler to purchase them, no doubt with an
eye to reversion to him in the course of a few hours. From time to time the
regulations as to food were varied at the whim of the gaoler. On one day
only cooked food would be allowed in; on another only raw food; on a third
nothing but tinned stuff; on a fourth all was turned back at the gates with
the exception of that obtained by a few individuals at a heavy premium.
A day or two after the passing of sentence representations were made to
the prisoners, excluding the four death-sentence men, that it would be
advisable to appeal to the clemency of the Government for some mitigation.
In that case, it was stated, there was every reason to believe that the
sentence of imprisonment would be entirely remitted and that the sentence of
banishment would also be commuted. The individuals from whom this suggestion
first came were of the class which habitually trades between the Government
and the public—the gentlemen of the backstairs. For this reason some of the
prisoners gave considerable credence to the reports, whilst others for the
very same reason would have nothing whatever to do with them. Hence arose a
condition of things very like a deadlock among the
prisoners themselves. It was represented by these agents that it would be
worse than useless for some of the prisoners to petition if many others
refused to do so and stood out. Some of the prisoners did actually
petition—a course of action which was strongly condemned by others; but it
should be borne in mind that there were among the prisoners many men who
were in bad health and poor circumstances, who had heavy responsibilities in
private life, and who were not only unable to pay their fines, but even
unable to make any provision for their families during incarceration. Such
conditions would tend to shake the nerve of most men.
With this nucleus to work upon the Government through their agents began
a system of terrorism by which they hoped to establish conditions under
which their 'magnanimity by inches' would appear in the most favourable
possible light. The first petition presented for the signature of the
prisoners was one in which they were asked to admit the justice of their
sentences, to express regret for what they had done and to promise to behave
themselves in the future. The document closed with an obsequious and
humiliating appeal to the 'proved magnanimity of the Government.' The
reception accorded to this was distinctly unfavourable, copies of the
petitions being in some instances torn up and flung in the faces of those
who presented them. The great majority of the prisoners refused to have
anything to do with them, and on representing the view that any appeal so
couched was not consistent with their self-respect, they were informed that
the petition had already been shown to the President and members of the
Executive Council and had been approved by them and that it would not look
well to alter it now.
Every effort was made for some days to induce the prisoners to sign this
document, but they refused. A certain number of the men were opposed to
signing anything whatever, even the most formal appeal to the Executive
Council for a revision of sentence. They based their refusal upon two
reasons: 1st, that they had been arrested by an act of treachery and tried
by a packed Court, and if the Executive recognized the injustice of the
sentence they might act spontaneously without petition
from the prisoners; 2nd, that they believed that any document however
moderate which they might sign would only be the thin end of the wedge by
which the Government hoped to introduce the principle of individual
statements and pleas—that is to say each one to excuse himself at the
expense of his neighbour, and thus enable the authorities to establish by
the prisoners' own confessions the extent of the guilt and complicity which
they had been unable to prove.
Under such conditions an appeal was made to Messrs. Rose Innes, Q.C., and
Solomon, Q.C. These gentlemen had remained in Pretoria and devoted their
time and energies to obtaining some amelioration of the conditions of
imprisonment and some mitigation of the sentences imposed upon the
Reformers. The petition as presented by the Government was shown to Mr.
Innes, who indignantly rejected the suggestion of signing any such document.
As the strongest reason adduced in favour of signing petitions was the
statement that according to law and custom it was impossible for the
Government to take cognizance of the prisoners' case even with every desire
to mitigate the punishment unless it was brought before them by direct
appeal, Mr. Innes undertook to see the President and Chief-Justice Kotzé on
the subject. By this time further suggestions had been made on the subject
of petitions, and the prisoners were being urged among other things to name
in plain terms the extent and manner in which they would like their
sentences commuted. This proposal was regarded as a preposterous and
ridiculous one; but nothing is too ridiculous for Pretoria and it was
necessary to deal seriously with it.
In these circumstances, Mr. Rose Innes interviewed the Chief Justice, in
order to get the highest authority in the country as a guide. Mr. Kotzé
would not at first express an opinion as to whether petitions should be sent
in, but he was evidently inclined to recommend them as politic, 'But,' said
Mr. Innes, 'it is not a question of policy; it is a matter of law. Is there
anything in the law which renders it necessary for a prisoner to petition
before his sentence may be revised by the Executive—anything which debars
the Executive from dealing with his case if he does not
petition?' Mr. Kotzé's answer was clear: 'No, certainly not—nothing
whatever!'
In the interview with the President which took place immediately after
this Mr. Innes was brusquely informed that petitions from the prisoners were
of no value, and would receive no consideration; that the President did not
want any of their petitions; and that he was guided solely by his burghers,
who had already petitioned in the matter. 'I would pay more heed,' said Mr.
Kruger, 'to a petition from fifty of my burghers than to one from the whole
of Johannesburg.' At the conclusion of an unpleasant interview, which called
for all the tact and good temper at the command of the gentleman who was
interesting himself on behalf of the prisoners, the President added in an
offhand manner, 'The petitions can do no harm and might strengthen my hands
in dealing with the rest of the Executive; so they can send them in if they
like.'
With this answer Messrs. Innes and Solomon returned to the gaol, and
after informing the prisoners of what had taken place advised them, under
the circumstances, to make a formal but respectful appeal for a revision of
the sentences. It was their opinion, based upon the information which they
had at great pains gathered, and it was also the opinion of the Chief
Justice, that no petition was necessary, and that the sentences would be
brought under the consideration of the Executive by the memorials of the
burghers; but they considered that as interested persons or indiscreet
friends had already suggested the idea of petitions, and as a refusal now to
sign anything might have a very unfavourable effect upon persons with the
disposition and character of those with whom they had to deal, it would be
advisable to make an appeal so worded as to formally comply with the
requirements of the extreme party in the Executive; one which would satisfy
those of the prisoners who were in favour of appealing, and would not be
offensive to those who were against petitions at any cost.
The strongest reason for urging this was to preserve unanimity of action
among the prisoners. The course was in fact a compromise designed to satisfy
those who considered a petition of some sort to be necessary, and those
who would not as they expressed it 'sacrifice their
self-respect' by asking for anything from the people who had treated them in
what they deemed to be a dishonest and treacherous manner.
All the prisoners except Messrs. A. Woolls-Sampson and W.D. (Karri)
Davies agreed to this: many did so much against their own wishes because of
the appeal to stand together, and because it was strongly urged that their
obstinacy would affect not only themselves but would prevent the liberation
of others whose circumstances were almost desperate. They yielded—it is
true—but remained unconvinced. To Messrs. Sampson and Davies the answers of
the Chief Justice and the President are now of considerable importance,
since the reason given for their detention involves the repudiation of the
assurances given by the President and Chief Justice.
Those who had not signed any other form of appeal now made a formal
application to have their sentences brought into review by the Executive
Council. They stated then their belief that it was only the beginning of the
petition business that it would be wholly ineffective and that it was to be
understood that they would sign no more under any circumstances. This
application was deemed by the emissaries of the Government to be sufficient
to comply with the requirements, and promises were conveyed to the prisoners
that the sentences would be at once taken into consideration and
commutations announced. In the course of a day or two however further
demands were made, and the prisoners were informed that they would be
dressed in prison garb under severer regulations specially passed for them
unless they at once petitioned against this course.
Again Mr. Innes represented their case to the Government at the dictate
of his own feelings of humanity, and not prompted thereto by the prisoners
themselves, most of whom would have been glad to see the Government wreak
their vengeance in petty and vindictive provisions. The proposed alterations
were however abandoned without protest from the prisoners after the supply
of convict garb had been sent up to the gaol. So matters went on day by day,
each day bringing its fresh instalment of threats
promises and cajoleries, each morning its batch of disappointments. It was
at first difficult to say what object the Government had in view in
endeavouring to compel the Reformers to sign petitions, unless it were the
unworthy one of desiring to humiliate men who were already down, or the
perhaps more contemptible one of forcing them to turn informers by a process
of self-excusing and thus enable them to differentiate in the commutations.
The fact remained that repeated efforts were made and pressure brought to
bear upon the men to induce them to sign. One pretext after another was
used. Finally the naked truth came out: the Government required each man to
state in an individual declaration the extent of his guilt the extenuating
facts and the circumstances under which he became associated with the Reform
movement. This was exactly what had been foretold by men who understood Boer
methods.
The means resorted to by the gaol officials to enforce this
petition-signing were characteristic. The gaoler (Du Plessis) is one of the
most unfavourable specimens of his race. Unscrupulous and brutal in his
methods, untrustworthy as to his undertakings, and violent and uncertain in
his temper, he singled out those among the prisoners whom he considered to
be the leaders of the 'stiff-necked' party as he termed it, and treated them
with as much severity as he could. These men found themselves unable to
obtain those facilities which were regarded as the right of all the
prisoners. Upon occasion their food was stopped at the gates, and
visitors—their wives and families—were refused admission, although provided
with permits from the proper authorities and complying with the gaol
regulations; and on more than one occasion he informed individual members of
this party that the 'petitions would have to be signed,' that they would
have to 'go down on their knees to the Government,' otherwise they would
'rot in gaol.' All this undisguised eagerness to obtain the signatures
naturally only strengthened the resolution of the men who stood out. They
had already against their wishes and judgment signed one application, and
more than that they refused to do. When it was found to be impossible to
induce the men to inform against each other, some modification was made in
the demands of the petition-hunters and some prisoners
were asked and induced to make statements concerning their own part in the
late movement, making no allusion to the part played by others, and, for
reasons which it is impossible to divine unless it was designed to lead to
something more, this was regarded by the Government as a desirable step.
The suspense and disappointment added to the original sentence upon a man
who was never even mentioned in evidence and who took no part in the Reform
movement, beyond associating himself with the organizations for the
protection of property in Johannesburg, told so severely upon one of the
prisoners that his mind became unhinged, and in the course of the following
period he developed marked signs of homicidal and suicidal mania. His
condition was so serious that strong representations were made to all the
officials connected with the gaol—the gaoler himself, the district surgeon,
the commissioner of police, and the landdrost of Pretoria. The prisoners
themselves organized a system of guards or watches over their comrade,
pending the result of their representations to the officials. On the fourth
day however the unfortunate man, driven out of his mind by the constant and
cruel disappointment of purposely raised hopes, eluding the watchfulness of
his friends took his own life.
The news of this event was received with horror throughout South Africa,
the more so as for some days previously the newspapers had hinted at some
such impending catastrophe. In the course of the inquiry which was held
evidence was given showing that the gaol surgeon had reported the state of
affairs to the proper authorities some days before, but in a formal and
half-hearted way. Evidence however was forthcoming that four of the
prisoners (themselves medical men) had forcibly represented the extreme
seriousness of the case to the gaoler, the gaol surgeon and the landdrost of
Pretoria, and had induced the assistant-gaoler and warders to support their
representations, but all without avail. The result of the inquiry was to lay
partial blame upon the doctor and to acquit everybody else—a result which
the public have been used to expect in the Transvaal. It is somewhat
difficult to see how the decision was arrived at, seeing that in the offices
there was the record of a special pass granted to the
unfortunate man's wife to visit him and remain with him for a considerable
period on the previous day in order to cheer him up and avert serious
consequences. The incident told severely upon the nerves of those who were
not themselves in the best of health, and it was found necessary immediately
to release or remove others among the prisoners for fear of similar results.
The Government seemed to realize that it was incumbent upon them to do
something in order to allay the feeling of indignation which was being
roused throughout South Africa at their manner of treating the prisoners, so
a further instalment of magnanimity was decided upon. On the day of the
unfortunate affair the manager of the Government newspaper, The Press,
was authorized by President Kruger and other members of the Executive to
inform the prisoners that they would have to make modified personal
statements of the nature previously indicated, and if these petitions were
presented to the Executive Council by 8 a.m. on the following Monday (the
prisoners would then have been three weeks in gaol) orders for their release
would be issued by Monday night. In order to secure a favourable reception
of this suggestion it was arranged that the clergyman who was to conduct
Divine service on Sunday in the gaol would deliver this message from the
President to the prisoners at the conclusion of the service, and urge the
men for their own sakes and for the sake of their families and of their
friends to abandon the position which they had taken up and to sign
declarations of the nature required, and so secure their release. Nor was
this all. Outside the gaol the wives of those men who stood out against the
petition movement were informed by Government officials that unless the
demands of the Government were complied with by their husbands they would
serve the full period of their sentence. Pressure was brought to bear upon
these ladies and special facilities were given them to visit the gaol,
avowedly in order to bring about the desired end.
Eleven of the prisoners—apart from the four whose punishment in
substitution for death had not been decided upon, and who were therefore not
concerned in the petitions—declined to reconsider their
decision, and elected rather to serve their term of two years; and they
expressed the conviction at the same time that these promises of the
President would not be kept any more than others had been. The result
justified their judgment. After a postponement of two days on some flimsy
pretext the official intimation of the commutations was given to the
prisoners on Wednesday, May 20. Instead of the release positively and
definitely promised the term of imprisonment was reduced in the following
degree: Ten men were released, twenty-four men were condemned to three
months', eighteen to five months', and four to one year's imprisonment; and
the clemency of the Government towards the four leaders was indicated by a
sentence of fifteen years each.
Even a short period of imprisonment under the existing conditions meant
certain death to a proportion of the men sentenced, and it is not to be
wondered at that the 'magnanimity' displayed by the Government after the
disappointments and delays seriously affected the health of a number of the
men, following as it did closely upon the tragic affair already alluded to.
With regard to Messrs. Sampson and Davies no decision was announced, it
being intimated by Dr. Leyds that, as they had made no petition, their case
had not been brought before the Government, and the Executive had therefore
no official knowledge of their existence. But the extent of the Government's
magnanimity was even then not fully known. On the following day it was
announced to the prisoners that they had been misinformed with regard to the
five and twelve months' commutations—that the intention and resolution of
the Executive was merely to grant these men permission to appeal at the end
of the periods named to the aforesaid magnanimity.
Some prominence has been given to the cases of those prisoners who were
unable for physical or other special reasons to withstand the strain; and it
should therefore be made equally clear that in many cases the men regarded
with contemptuous amusement the cat and mouse policy and the stage-managed
magnanimity displayed towards them. They were perfectly well able and
willing to endure the sentence passed upon them, and they
were not misled by Boer promises in which they had never had any faith at
all. There are good reasons to be assigned for the willingness of many of
the men to make appeals to the Government: sheer hard necessity and the
sufferings of those dependent upon them were among these reasons; and it is
unfair to consider these appeals to have been due to loss of nerve.
There were among the prisoners twenty-three Englishmen, sixteen South
Africans, nine Scotchmen, six Americans, two Welshmen, one Irishman, one
Australian, one Hollander, one Bavarian, one German, one Canadian, one
Swiss, and one Turk. This variety of nationalities should receive due
consideration when questions such as for instance that of the flag are
considered. In this matter of petitions it was not to be expected that men
whose associations with the country had been limited to a few years should
experience the same depth of feeling and bitterness of resentment as the
South Africans born who look upon the country as their native land and who
view with keen resentment the attitude of the Boers towards them in the
Transvaal, so much at variance with their attitude towards the Boers in the
neighbouring colonies. Nothing could illustrate this difference in feeling
better than the fact that of the eleven men who throughout declined to sign
petitions eight were South African born, one Australian, one English, and
one Scotch. There is nothing discreditable to others in these figures; they
simply indicate the difference of feeling which did and indeed naturally
must exist. The South African born men consider themselves to have been
robbed of a portion of their birthright; the others have not the same reason
for thinking this.
With men of so many nationalities the position of the British Resident
would in any case have been one of difficulty, especially after the part
played by the High Commissioner. In the case of Sir Jacobus de Wet very
little satisfaction was given. What caused the most comment and annoyance
among the prisoners was that official representatives of other countries
appeared to have unusual facilities offered them to visit the subjects of
their Government—at least, they could command the ordinary
courtesies—whereas in the case of the British Agent nothing of this sort
existed. Frequently he was observed standing outside the
gaol in the worst of weather without shelter, patiently waiting until the
gaoler would deem fit to see him. In the meantime that official would stroll
through the yard, making remarks to his subordinates indicative of the
satisfaction he experienced in keeping the representative of Her Majesty
outside in the rain and mud. Upon occasions when he was afforded admission
he was hustled through the yard by a warder and not allowed to hold private
conversation with any of the prisoners. On several occasions he complained
that he was refused admission by order of the gaoler, and the spectacle of
England's representative being turned away by an ignorant and
ill-conditioned official like Du Plessis was not an edifying one. It is only
necessary to say that upon an occasion when Du Plessis adopted the same
tactics towards the Portuguese Consul that gentleman proceeded at once to
the Presidency and demanded as his right free admission to the gaol whenever
he chose to go, and the right was promptly recognized although there was no
subject of his Government at the time within the precincts. Indeed the
Portuguese Consul stated openly that he called for the purpose of visiting
as a friend one of the Reform prisoners, giving the name of one of the
recalcitrants most objectionable to the Government. The American Consul too
carried matters with a high hand on the occasion of his visit to Pretoria,
and it seemed as though the Paramount Power was the only one which the
Transvaal Government could afford or cared to treat with contempt.
The period of gaol life afforded the Reformers some opportunity of
studying a department of the Transvaal Administration which they had not
before realized to be so badly in need of reform. The system—if system it
can be called—upon which the gaol was conducted may be gathered from the
gaoler's own words. When one of the prisoners had inquired of him whether a
certain treatment to which a white convict had been subjected was in
accordance with the rules of the gaol and had received an answer in the
affirmative, he remarked that he did not think many of the Reformers could
exist under such conditions. Du Plessis replied: 'Oh no! Not one of you
would be alive a month if the rules were enforced. No
white man could stand them. Indeed,' he added, 'if the rules were
properly enforced, not even a nigger could stand them!'
Some subsequent experience of gaol-life induced the Reformers to accept
this view as tolerably correct. It is known for instance that after the
Malaboch war sixty-four of the tribe were incarcerated in Pretoria Gaol.
Some twenty were subsequently released, but of the remainder twenty-six died
within the year. Bad food vile sanitary arrangements and want of clothing
and shelter contributed to this end. Malaboch was a petty chief against whom
an expedition was organized, ostensibly because he had refused to pay his
taxes. The expedition is chiefly notorious on account of the commandeering
of British subjects which led to the visit of Sir Henry Loch already
described. It resulted—as these expeditions inevitably do—in the worsting of
the natives, the capture of the chief and his headmen, and the parcelling
out of his tribe as indentured servants among the Boers.
Considerable sympathy was felt with Malaboch among the Uitlanders, not
because of his refusal to pay taxes but because the opinion prevailed that
this refusal was due only to the tyrannical and improper conduct of the Boer
native commissioners; and a number of Johannesburg men resolved in the
interests of the native and also of the native labour supply on the Rand to
have the matter cleared up at the forthcoming trial of the chief. Funds were
provided and counsel employed, nominally to defend Malaboch, but really to
impeach the native commissioners, who in many cases were and continue to be
a perfect curse to the country. No sooner had this intended course of action
become known than the Government decided to treat their prisoners under the
provisions of martial law—to treat them, in fact, as prisoners of war, who
were liable to be indefinitely detained without further trial. Under these
conditions they were placed in the Pretoria Gaol, and with the exception of
a few subordinates there they have lived—or died—since. The offences of
these natives, for all anyone knows, may have been similar to those of
Langalibalele, Dinizulu, Secocoeni, Cetewayo, and other native chiefs whom
the British Government have also disposed of without trial. But it is urged
that these men are entitled to a trial, because it is
well known that the provocation under which they committed their offences
against the law—if indeed any were committed—was such as, in the minds of
most people, would justify their action.{36}
The position of a native in the Pretoria Gaol is indeed an unhappy one.
Sleeping accommodation—that is to say, shed accommodation—is provided for
about one-quarter of the number confined there. During fine weather it is no
hardship upon the natives to sleep in the open yard provided that they have
some covering. The blankets doled out to them are however in many cases such
as one would not allow to remain in one's kennels; and in wet or cold
weather (and the fact is that during at least one quarter of the year the
nights are cold, whilst during the five months' wet season rain may fall at
any time) the sufferings of these unfortunates many of whom have no blankets
at all are very severe. Of course the stronger fight their way into the
shed, and even fill the little covered passage-way; the others crouch or lie
about in the open yard like wild beasts without a vestige of shelter.
On behalf of the native political prisoners representations were made by
the gaol doctor that they were dying in numbers from scurvy and fever, for
want of vegetable food. A special effort on his part secured for a few days
some allowance of this nature, but the matter having been brought to the
notice of General Joubert, the Superintendent-General of natives, peremptory
orders were issued to discontinue this; and this although the wretched
creatures might have been sufficiently supplied from the gardens attached to
the gaol which are cultivated by the prisoners, and the product of which was
used by the gaoler to feed his pigs. For a little while longer the doctor
continued the vegetable diet at his own expense, but being unable to afford
this it was discontinued and the former death-rate was resumed.
Floggings are quite common. In many instances white men have been flogged
there. It is not intended to suggest that this should not have been done,
but cases occurred in the Pretoria Gaol which are surely difficult to
justify. Du Plessis stated to the Reform prisoners that he
had with the sanction of the Landdrost inflicted upon one prisoner named
Thompson, who was undoubtedly refractory and disobedient, upwards of
eighty lashes within three weeks. He added that this was as good as a
death-sentence, because neither white nor black could stand two inflictions
of twenty-five lashes, as they were given in Pretoria Gaol, without
permanent injury to the constitution. The effect, he observed, of this
severe punishment upon the back was to cause the blood to rush and settle on
the lungs, and in every case it resulted in fatal lung mischief.
During the period of imprisonment the Reformers witnessed a considerable
number of floggings. These when inflicted by the assistant-gaoler or warders
were usually marked by some kind of moderation and consideration for the
prisoner's physical condition, and some regard for official decencies. The
same cannot be said of those in which Du Plessis himself took a prominent
part. Upon one occasion when a native had been released from the triangle,
after twenty strokes from the cat had been borne without a murmur, Du
Plessis suddenly became infuriated at the stoicism of his victim, and
stepping towards him knocked the released man down with his fist and spurned
him with his foot. Upon another occasion a boy of ten or twelve years of age
(under what circumstances is not known) was taken by Du Plessis into the
open yard, stretched in mid air by two warders gripping his wrists and
ankles, and flogged with a cane by Du Plessis himself. The screams of the
child were heart-rending and the sight caused one lady who happened to be
visiting in the gaol to faint. When the wretched urchin was released by the
two warders and stood cowering before Du Plessis the latter repeated his
former performance of knocking his victim down with his closed fist.
Mr. Du Plessis it should be remembered is a sample of a certain class
only of the Boers—not by any means of all. He is a man with a treacherous
and vindictive temper, distinctly unpleasant in appearance, being coarsely
and powerfully built, and enjoying an expression of countenance which varies
between cunning and insincerity on one hand and undisguised malevolence on
the other. Some idea of the general kindliness of his disposition may be
gathered from his actions. On one occasion, when special
relaxation of the rules was authorized by the Landdrost of Pretoria in order
to enable a number of the Johannesburg friends of the prisoners to see them,
and when about one hundred permits had been issued by that official to men
travelling over from Johannesburg specially for the purpose, Du Plessis
devised means to defeat this act of consideration, and issued orders to his
guards to admit only three visitors at a time to the gaol. As a consequence,
more than half failed to gain admittance. Nor was he satisfied with this; he
informed the prisoners themselves that he wished the Landdrost had issued
two hundred passes instead of one hundred, so that he might let those
Johannesburg people know who was 'baas' there. Possibly the fact that on the
previous day he had been severely rebuffed in his petition campaign may have
provoked this act of retaliation.
Another instance of Mr. Du Plessis' system was afforded by the case of an
old schoolmaster, an Englishman named Grant. He had been a teacher upon the
farm of a Boer near Pretoria. Through some difference with his employer he
was dismissed; and his own version of the affair indicates that he suffered
considerable injustice. From the evidence given in the case in which he
subsequently figured it appeared that in order to urge his grievance he
returned to the Boer's farm and even re-entered the house which he had
formerly occupied. He was arrested and charged with trespass, or threatening
to molest his late employer and members of his family, and was bound over to
keep the peace for six months and to find £50 surety for the same, failing
which he should go to gaol for that period. This seemed to be rather a harsh
sentence to pass upon a man who was over fifty years of age, entirely
destitute of means, of very inferior physique, and who had been charged at
the instance of an individual who could certainly have protected himself
against five such men as Grant. No doubt the accused was an eccentric man,
and probably a nuisance, and it is even possible that his conduct left the
magistrate no alternative but to pass the sentence which he did: it is not
intended to question the justice of this part of the affair. Having been
sent to gaol, however, because he could not deposit £50, Grant was
treated as the commonest malefactor in all respects but
one—he was allowed to retain his own clothing. The unfortunate old man made
a pathetic picture with his seedy clothes, tail coat, tall white hat, and
worn gloves, which he punctiliously wore whenever called upon to face the
authorities—and it happened rather frequently. He objected to being classed
and herded with the thieves and murderers and others whose crimes were even
more repulsive. He protested against the class of food that was served to
him. For these remonstrances he at first received solitary confinement and
even poorer diet; and later with a brutality which one can surely only find
in a Du Plessis the unfortunate old man was placed in the Kaffir stocks,
thrown out in the middle of the yard that he might be humiliated in the
sight of all, and kept there in the fierce heat of a tropical sun for half a
day. The sole excuse for this was that he had been unruly in protesting
against the treatment which he was receiving. The spectacle excited the pity
of the Reform prisoners to such an extent that even with the certainty of an
insulting rebuff from the gaoler they endeavoured to represent the man's
case so as to have him released, but without success. It need only be added
that the unfortunate man did not serve his entire term, the first act of the
first released Reformers being to pay up the surety required and provide him
with funds to leave the country. Grant may have been as guilty and offensive
as eccentricity can make a man, but nothing can justify the manner in which
he was treated.
The stocks in the hands of Du Plessis were not the mild corrective
instrument which they are sometimes considered to be. According to this
authority the stocks can be made to inflict various degrees of punishment.
Du Plessis states that when he took over the gaol he found that the custom
was to place men in the stocks within a cell and to trust to the irksomeness
of the position and the solitary confinement to bring about a better frame
of mind; but he soon found that this system was capable of improvement. His
first act was to place the prisoners white or black in the stocks in the
middle of the yard, so that they should be exposed to the observation and
remarks of all the officials and visitors and their fellow-prisoners. In
explaining the reasons for this change, he said that he
found that in a cool cell a man could be tolerably comfortable and that even
the most hardened of them preferred not to be seen in the stocks by others;
whereas in the yard they were obliged to sit on the uneven gravel and to
endure the heat of the sun as well as being 'the cynosure of every eye.' But
this did not satisfy the ingenious Du Plessis. The yard of the Pretoria gaol
inclines from south to north about one foot in four, and Du Plessis'
observant eye detected that the prisoners invariably sat facing down the
slope—for of course they were not allowed to lie down while in the stocks,
this being too comfortable a position. Upon studying the question he found
that in this way much more ease was experienced owing to the more obtuse
angle thus formed by the body and the legs. This did not suit him and he
issued further orders that in future all prisoners in the stocks should be
obliged to sit facing uphill, and that they should not be allowed to hold on
to the stocks in order to maintain themselves in this position but should
have to preserve the upright posture of the body by means of the exertion of
the muscles of the back alone. Needless to say the maintenance of such a
position for hours at a time caused an agony of aches which many prisoners
were quite unable to endure, and frequently the men were seen to throw
themselves back and lie down at the risk of being kicked up by the vigilant
Du Plessis and confined in the stocks for a longer period than was
originally intended. Nor did this complete the list of Mr. Du Plessis'
ingenuities. The stocks had been built to accommodate several persons at the
same time, and he found that by inserting the legs in the alternate holes,
instead of in the pair as designed by the architect of the stocks, the
increased spread of the legs caused still greater strain upon his victim.
This was reserved for special cases—say one in every four or five.
The incidents here given illustrating the methods of this delectable
individual were all witnessed by the Reformers. The account of Du Plessis
may serve the purpose of showing the methods practised under a Government
whose officials are appointed whenever possible from the family circle and
not because of fitness. It is more especially designed to show
the character of the man in whose hands the prisoners
were placed with almost absolute discretion; the man who enjoys the
privilege of discussing with his relative President Kruger, at any hour at
which he may choose to visit the Presidency, the treatment to be accorded to
his victims; the man who is retained in his position in spite of repeated
exposures by his superiors, and who is credited with exercising very
considerable influence with Mr. Kruger; but, above all, the man in whose
charge remain up to the present time{37} the two Reformers, Messrs. Sampson
and Davies, who declined to sign any petition, and concerning whom Du
Plessis stated openly: 'Wait until the others have gone, and if the
Government leave them in my hands, I'll make them ready to sign anything.'
Sufficient has been said concerning this individual to warrant the
description publicly given of him by Colonel Rhodes{38}—'A brutal and
inhuman wretch!' Like most bullies the man is also a coward. When he
witnessed the outburst of feeling among the prisoners in consequence of the
death of their comrade, he would not venture into the precincts of the gaol
for two days, until assured that the men had again become capable of
self-control.
So much for the details of gaol life.
In the meantime sympathy with the prisoners began to take practical form,
and the unanimity of feeling on their behalf throughout South Africa, which
was quite unexpected and which greatly embarrassed the
Boer Government, tended to bring matters to a head. Mr. Rose Innes, who had
so generously and constantly exerted himself in Pretoria in order to obtain
some amelioration of the condition of the prisoners, and who had in his
official capacity as watching the case for the Imperial Government made a
very strong report to the Colonial Office, did not content himself with
these exertions. Upon his return to Capetown he suggested and organized the
getting up of a monster petition to the President and Executive, urging upon
them in the interests of the peace of South Africa to release the imprisoned
men. The petitions were to represent the views of every town and village in
South Africa, and were to be presented by the mayors or municipal heads of
the communities. In this movement Mr. Rose Innes was most ably seconded by
Mr. Edmund Garrett, the editor of the Cape Times, and other prominent
men. A movement of this nature naturally excited considerable attention in
Pretoria; but the success of it was wholly unexpected. The President and his
party had played to the South African gallery, and they had not yet realized
that they had in any way overdone the theatrical part. They had no suspicion
of the real feeling with which the sentences were regarded, nor of the
extent to which they had alienated sympathy by that and the subsequent
'magnanimous' action. 'Magnanimity by inches' had been placarded throughout
South Africa, and the whole game was characterized as one of cat and mouse,
in which the President was playing with his victims with indifference to the
demands of justice and humanity, partly with a view to wringing concessions
from the British Government, and partly from a mistaken idea that by such a
course he would obtain credit at each step afresh for dealing generously
with those who were at his mercy.
The movement had been well organized. The resolution had been passed in
every town in South Africa, even including the towns of the Free State. The
mayors (over 200 in number) were on their way to Pretoria, when the
President, with his back against the wall, realized for the first time that
he had overshot the mark and that unless he released the men before the
arrival of the deputies he would either have to do so
apparently at their instance, or refuse to do so and risk rousing a
dangerous feeling. He chose the former course; he released all the
imprisoned men with the exception of the four who had been sentenced to
death and the two who had refused to appeal. Pretoria and Johannesburg were
already full of deputies and visitors from Cape Colony, Natal, and the Free
State, all bound on the same errand of mercy. The feelings of these men,
brought many hundreds of miles from their homes, sacrificing their own
business and personal convenience in order to approach the President and to
support a measure which they felt to be imperatively necessary to the
allaying of feeling in South Africa may be imagined, but were not expressed,
when they heard that they had been allowed to undertake this journey as part
of the President's game, only to receive a slap in the face from His Honour
by the carrying out of the measure before they were permitted to interview
him. This at least was what was felt to be the case upon the release of the
majority. Absolute proof of it was forthcoming within the week, when the
President refused to receive the deputations and kept them waiting in
Pretoria until he had released the four leaders as well, without allowing
the delegates the satisfaction of a courteous recognition of their mission.
He admitted them it is true to an informal interview, in the course of which
he managed to insult and outrage the feelings of a good many by lecturing
them and giving vent to very candid opinions as to their personal action and
duties; but he would not receive their representatives officially.
On May 30 the prisoners with the exception of the six already referred to
were released, the terms being that their fines should be paid at once, and
the unexpired term of imprisonment remitted. Each one as released was
required to bind himself for the term of three years, reckoned from the 30th
day of May, 1896, neither directly nor indirectly to meddle in the internal
or external politics of the South African Republic, and to conduct himself
as a law-abiding citizen of the State.
In some cases the provision was added that if in the opinion of the
Executive Council the terms of this undertaking should be
broken, the sentence of banishment which was held in suspense would come
into force, and the men were required to sign this addendum to the above
undertaking. The resolution of the Executive Council, which deals with the
mitigation of the sentences, states that the imprisonment portions of the
sentences are remitted; that the fines (£2,000 in all cases) must be paid at
once; and that the banishment shall remain in abeyance subject to the
faithful observance of the above undertaking; but that should any action be
taken by any of the prisoners constituting in the opinion of the Executive
Council a breach of the above undertaking, the sentence of banishment shall
come into force.
There is no definition of the phrase 'meddle in politics,' nor is there
any indication of what in the opinion of the Executive Council constitutes
politics. There is of course on record the President's own statement in
public that he would not permit any discussion on the dynamite and railway
questions because they are matters of 'high politics'; and if haply the
Executive should also hold this view, it is difficult to see how any of the
prisoners will be able to follow their ordinary business and attend to those
commercial affairs in which they are concerned without committing some
breach of this ridiculous provision.
No answer was received to the many representations made on behalf of the
four leaders, except that the Government were busy with the matter. Upon the
release of the other prisoners it was suggested to them by friends outside
that it would be a proper and politic course to proceed in a body to the
Presidency and thank the President for the action he had taken in their
respect, and at the same time to beg of him to extend a similar clemency to
the four leaders who were still left in gaol. Most of the men were dead
against taking any such action. They held very strongly to the opinion that
they had been arrested by treachery, condemned by arrangement, and played
with as counters in an unscrupulous manner. They recognized no obligation
towards the President. They could see no magnanimity in a policy which had
secured their arrest under the circumstances described which inveigled them
into pleading guilty to a nominal offence, and which
imposed upon them a sentence such as that passed. They considered the
enormous fine which they were then called upon to pay to say nothing of the
imprisonment which they had already suffered wholly disproportionate to the
offence, and their natural impulse was to avoid the man who was directly
responsible for it all, or at least not to meet him under circumstances so
unequal, when they would be sure to be insulted, and would be obliged to
suffer the insult in silence.
Some of them however yielded to the representations of their friends, who
considered that it should be done for the sake of the men who were not yet
released; whilst there were others who expressed the view that they would
rather go back and do their imprisonment than suffer the humiliation which
it was proposed to inflict; that they would not do it for themselves, and
they could not bring themselves to do it for anybody else. A considerable
number of the prisoners called upon His Honour; and this was the 'dog'
interview. After hearing the address of the men the President proceeded to
pat himself and his people on the back, saying that he knew he had behaved
with great magnanimity and moderation, and that he hoped that such
generosity would not be entirely thrown away.
'You must know,' he said, 'that I sometimes have to punish my dogs; and I
find that there are dogs of two kinds. Some of them who are good come back
and lick my boots. Others get away at a distance and snarl at me. I see that
some are still snarling. I am glad that you are not like them.'
Those among his hearers who could understand His Honour's remarks,
although they had been prepared for much, were certainly not prepared for
this. The interpreter stood for a moment without rendering into English the
metaphor chosen by the worthy President, and even His Honour—slow to
perceive where he has transgressed the limits of etiquette and good
breeding—gathered from the expressions upon the faces that something was
wrong, and turning to the interpreter, said:
'Oh, that's only my joke! Don't interpret that to them.'
But those who witnessed it say that there was no joke
in his voice or his eye as he said it. Proceeding then with more
circumspection he walked out his dog in another form, and said that it was
very well to punish the little dogs as he had punished them, but somebody
should also punish the big dog—evidently referring to Mr. Rhodes—and in the
course of a homily he again mixed his parable, sticking all the time to his
dog however, remarking in conclusion that it was very well to punish the
dogs, but what was to happen to the owner of the dogs, who stood by urging
them on and crying 'Tsaa!'?
Throughout the week His Honour continued to make the homely dog work to
good purpose, but the interview with the released Reformers was, it is
believed, the first occasion upon which he made use of it. Certainly on no
other occasion did the President do such ample justice to his reputation as
a finished diplomat.
In the mean time negotiations had been proceeding for obtaining the
release of the leaders. The friends and representatives of the four
prisoners had become subject to all manner of attentions from numbers of
people in Pretoria; near relations of the President himself, high-placed
Government officials, their relatives, hangers-on, prominent Boers, and
persons of all sorts and descriptions, all offered their services and
indicated means by which the thing could be arranged. All wanted
money—personal bribes. The prisoners themselves were similarly approached,
and they who a month previously had been condemned to death witnessed with
disgust a keen competition among their enemies for the privilege of
effecting—at a price—their release. Day after day they were subjected to the
disgusting importunities of these men—men who a little while before had been
vaunting their patriotism and loudly expressing a desire to prove it by
hanging these same Reformers.
The gaoler Du Plessis, representing himself as having been sent by the
President, suggested to the four men that they should 'make a petition.'
They declined to do so. Du Plessis was then reinforced by the Chief
Commissioner of Police, and the two officials again urged this course but
stated that they did not wish it to be known that they had been sent
by the Executive and therefore could not consent to their
names being used. Upon these terms the prisoners again declined. They said
that if they were to hold any communication with the Government they
required to have it on record that they did so at the suggestion of the two
responsible gaol officials who represented themselves as expressing the wish
of the Executive Council. After further delay and consultations with the
President and others the two officials above named consented to allow their
names to be used in the manner indicated. Not content with this the
prisoners demanded that they should be allowed to send an independent
messenger to the President to ascertain whether he really required a written
appeal for revision of sentence. Having received confirmation in this manner
the four men addressed a letter to the Executive Council. In this letter
they stated that they had been sentenced to death; that the death-sentence
had been commuted; and that they understood—but had received no
authoritative information on the subject—that they were to suffer instead a
term of fifteen years' imprisonment. They suggested the imposition of a
monetary penalty in place of the imprisonment; they stated that they held
and represented important interests in the State and that they believed
their release would tend to the restoration of confidence and favourable
conditions in the business community of the Rand; and they concluded by
saying that, if the Executive saw fit to adopt this suggestion, they the
prisoners would return to their business in good faith.
It had frequently been intimated to these men that it would be impossible
for the Government to impose a fine in place of the death-sentence because
money so obtained would be blood-money. Reference had been made in the
Executive Council to Biblical precedents, notably the case of Judas, and the
opinion was held that if blood-money were taken the Lord would visit His
wrath upon the people.
The Boers are in their way a very religious people. But they are also
essentially practical; and it is difficult to find an instance in which the
religious principle has operated to their commercial disadvantage. This at
any rate was not one. The train of reasoning which led them to justify the
imposition of a fine was somewhat in this wise: To impose a fine
would be to take blood-money, and would be immoral and
iniquitous: to accept the offer of a present on condition that the
sentence should be entirely remitted however would be quite another thing.
So negotiations were set on foot to induce the prisoners to make the
necessary offer; and the prisoners, as has been shown, did so. This
satisfied the religious scruple of the Boer, but the terms of the offer were
not satisfactory to his commercial requirements. It became necessary to make
a definite offer. Further negotiations followed, and the prisoners gathered
that an offer of £10,000 apiece would be viewed with favour by the President
and his advisers; and it was stated by members of the Volksraad and
prominent officials who were in the confidence of and in communication with
the Government that, in the event of such a contingency arising as the
prisoners making an offer of cash, the Executive would not take the money
for the benefit of the State but would accept it for charitable purposes—an
educational institute or a hospital or some such object.
This was communicated to the prisoners by the personages referred to, and
an offer was accordingly made of £10,000 apiece. The matter was discussed in
the Executive Council, and the Boer, true to his instinct and record,
perceived an opportunity to improve his position. The religious gentlemen
who would not take blood-money now objected that the amount proposed was
altogether too small, and the President with that readiness so
characteristic of him observed that he thought the prisoners must have made
a mistake, and meant £40,000 apiece instead of £40,000 for the lot.
Another delay ensued, and in the meanwhile more and more deputies flocked
to Pretoria, and stronger grew the feeling, and more angry, disappointed,
and disgusted grew the communities of Johannesburg and Pretoria. The
President, however, played his game unmoved by any such considerations.
The next announcement from the Executive was a wholly unexpected one. It
was that they felt it necessary to consult Judge Gregorowski as to the
amount of money which ought to be taken as a donation to charities. The
matter of assessing the value of a death-sentence in cash might perhaps be
deemed a perplexing and a difficult one from lack of
precedent, yet nobody supposed the Executive Council to be unequal to the
task. It might also seem unfair to impose this further burden of
responsibility upon a judge; but Mr. Gregorowski had proved himself superior
to precedent and untrammelled by custom; and there was much to be said in
favour of continuing an association which had worked very satisfactorily so
far.
When however the President, with that resolute determination to be
generous which was so well advertised, at last overcame all obstacles and
succeeded in holding a meeting of his advisers to receive Mr. Gregorowski's
report, and when it was found that that gentleman assessed capital
punishment at £25,000 per head, the Executive Council with one accord avowed
themselves to be so utterly taken by surprise by the announcement that they
required time to think the matter over and decide upon a course of action.
No doubt this opinion of Mr. Gregorowski's took them quite as much by
surprise as did his original sentences. However in the course of a day or
two they had recovered sufficiently to intimate to the prisoners that, if
they would amend their first offer of £40,000 for the four and make it one
of £40,000 apiece, the Executive would decline to accept so large a sum, as
being greater than they considered equitable and would reply that in the
opinion of the Government £25,000 apiece would be sufficient. It was quite
plainly intimated that this procedure presented certain attractions to the
President, who desired for political purposes to exhibit further
magnanimity. The prisoners who by this time had gained some insight into Mr.
Kruger's methods, who knew from past experience the value of his promises,
and who could find no record in history to encourage them in participating
to this extent in the confidence trick, point-blank refused to have anything
to do with it.
They agreed to make a formal offer of a 'reasonable' fine, leaving the
interpretation of this to the Government, but only on the distinct
understanding that the amount should not exceed £25,000 each. They had
learned that Mr. Gregorowski had fixed this amount and that the Executive
had agreed to accept it, and they would not offer a penny more
for magnanimity or anything else. They stated in plain
terms that they looked upon this matter simply as a bargain; that if they
should get out they were paying their way out, and that in so far as their
release from the position was concerned the transaction was closed upon
business terms and there should be no question afterwards as to gratitude or
magnanimity. The fines were paid,{39} and on July 11 the leaders were
released.
Messrs. Phillips, Farrar, and Hammond, who were compelled through their
business ties to continue their association with the Transvaal, signed the
same undertaking concerning politics as that given by the rest of the
prisoners—with the difference that in their case it operates for a period of
fifteen years. Colonel Rhodes however declined to give the required
undertaking and elected to take his sentence of fifteen years' banishment.
On the night of June 11 therefore he was sent across the border under
escort, and passing through the Free State proceeded at once to Matabeleland
to render what assistance he could to his brother in the suppression of the
rebellion. As though the excitement of the past few months had not been
sufficient, it may be added that in the first engagement in which he took
part on his arrival at Buluwayo his horse was shot, and he narrowly escaped
the same fate himself.
From time to time adverse comment has been made on the subject of this
undertaking of the Reformers to abstain from further participation in
politics. The position of the Reformers was this: They had entered upon the
movement to obtain the redress of certain matters closely affecting their
feelings as men and their interests and business as settlers in the country.
They were disarmed and placed at the mercy of the Boer Government by the
action of England's Representative. To decline to give the pledge required
would entail banishment, which would in many cases mean ruin to them and in
all cases would remove them from the sphere in which they might yet
contribute to the attainment of the ends they had in view. The only
compensating consideration possible in such a course would be that the
redress desired would be effected through the influence
of the Imperial Government; but since the Imperial Government had shown that
under the circumstances they were neither willing nor able to maintain to a
logical conclusion the position which they took up when they secured
disarmament, the Reformers concluded that their obvious course was to give
the required undertaking. It is true that several among them did decline to
give this undertaking, saying that they would prefer to serve their terms of
imprisonment; but they received the answer that after the term of two years'
imprisonment the Government would still require the undertaking or enforce
the banishment clause, so that it appeared to them there was no way out of
it but to sign what was required and wait patiently.
It is perfectly obvious that one of two alternatives will present itself.
Either the Government will come to regard this provision as a dead letter,
and wholly ignore it; or some of the men, in the course of their business
and in dealing with economic questions such as they are morally entitled to
discuss will fall foul of the 'opinion of the Executive.' The issue will
then be a very clear one, and many of those who were strongly opposed to the
Reformers on the premisses on which they started will find themselves in
cordial agreement with them in later developments.{40}
The Reform movement closed for the time being with the release of the
leaders. Sixty-four men had been committed for trial. From four of them the
Government had received £100,000, and from fifty-six others £112,000. One
was dead; one had fallen so seriously ill before the trial that he was
unable to present himself with the rest, but on recovering and announcing
his intention to plead 'Not guilty' and fight it out, the case against him
was withdrawn.
There remained two men, Messrs. Sampson and Davies,
whose case the Government had refused to consider because they declined to
appeal. They had been sentenced on April 28 to two years' imprisonment and
£2,000 fine, or failing payment to another year's imprisonment, and to three
years' banishment; and under that sentence do they lie at the present moment
in the Pretoria gaol, at the mercy of the Boer Government and its very
competent representative Mr. Du Plessis.{41}
Much kudos has accrued to Mr. Kruger for his magnanimity and much
profit for his astuteness! Great credit is also given to Mr. Chamberlain for
his prompt impartiality. And surely some day a tribute of sympathy and
admiration will go out from a people who like pluck and who love fair play
to two Englishmen who hold that a solemn pledge is something which even a
Boer should hold to, whilst self-respect is more than liberty and beyond all
price.
Footnotes for Chapter IX
{35} This was done on the second day—after a
night without any ventilation at all.
{36} See Appendix E.
{37} (July, 1899.) They were released in June,
1897.
{38} Du Plessis' threats regarding Messrs.
Sampson and Davies were made so openly and vengefully that Colonel F.W.
Rhodes deemed it to be his duty as soon as he was released to report the
matter to the High Commissioner, with a view to ensuring some measure of
protection for the two gentlemen above referred to. After the release of the
other prisoners, Du Plessis was for a time suspended, owing to charges laid
against him by the Inspector of Prisons. No investigation appears however to
have been made, and the man was reinstated. During the month of September,
after Messrs. Sampson and Davies had already done five months of their
sentence in Pretoria Gaol, this man, finding himself unable to break their
spirit by other means, made a proposal to the Government to separate the two
and to place them in two small country gaols at wide distances apart and far
removed from the friendly offices and watchful eyes of their friends, and
thus deprive them of such benefit as they may be able in the future
to get from proximity to the official representative of England. In the past
they have certainly derived none.
{39} It seems like reflecting on the reader's
intelligence to add that nothing more has been heard of the 'charities.'
{40} (July, 1899.) A clear indication of the
Government's disposition towards the Reformers was given by the treatment
accorded to Mr. Lionel Phillips. In consequence of a publication by Sir John
Willoughby of an article on the subject of the Raid, which failed to
accurately represent the facts as they were present to the minds of the
Reformers, Mr. Phillips wrote an article in the Nineteenth Century
magazine, which was purely historical, moderate in tone, and obviously
designed only as an answer to the allegations which had been made. The
Executive Council arrived at the conclusion that it was a breach of his
undertaking to abstain from interference in politics, and they issued a
decree of banishment against him. As Mr. Phillips had taken up his residence
permanently in Europe, and as it was well known that it would be extremely
inconvenient for him to return to South Africa in order to dispute this
action it was generally considered that the object of the move was to
establish a precedent, so to say, on the cheap, and in the same spirit to
intimidate others among the Reformers who were believed not to have lost
their interest in the cause of reform nor to have abandoned their intention
to begin again as soon as they were free to do so. It is no exaggeration to
say that scarcely a week could have passed during the last two and a half
years in which some or all of the half dozen Uitlanders most prominent in
the cause of reform have not been in receipt of a warning of one kind or
another, ranging from apparently friendly advice not to take too keen an
interest in certain matters, up to the giddy eminence of being black listed
in the Dutch papers as one of those to be dragged out and shot without trial
as a traitor and a rebel. Such are the conditions under which the unarmed
Uitlanders labour for reform.
{41} (July, 1899.) Du Plessis was promoted to be
Chief Inspector of Prisons shortly after the release of Messrs. Sampson and
Davies, and still holds that post!
