I soon discovered that, in Zeerust at all events, the state of affairs reminded one of some parts of America during the Civil War. Every other man I came across was some kind of official—a Commandant, or an Assistant-Commandant, or an Acting Commandant, or a Field-cornet, assisting or acting.
The acting was always good - I can’t say much for the assisting I The dignity was always immense, the ludicrous never absent. And if a man was not a Commandant something or other, or a Field-cornet something or other, he was a gaoler or a Zarp, you may be sure. If not that, then he wore a badge on his arm to show that he was an orderly, or an assistant-orderly, or a non-assistant-orderly, of the Red Cross Society. Some people were so uncharitable as to say that all who were afraid of going forth to war joined the Red Cross! However it be, every Jew belonged to it.
Thus it happened that before breakfast, an acting-assistant-deputy-commandant-general of nothing in particular came over to the hotel to tell me that the whole thing was a mistake—that I was free! Imagine what a breakfast I took on this good news. After breakfast this man with the long title came again. I found that he was a Colonial man who, years ago, had come to the Transvaal as a schoolmaster. From that he had developed into a law agent, and from this, when the war began, into a Commandant something or other of Zeerust who had to stay at home. As I said, he came again, and brought his notebook with him. He took down my name, age, profession, abode, and asked me ever so many unimportant questions, then told me I was free, and asked me if I would like to go back to the Colony vid Delagoa Bay. To this I agreed. All seemed to be well now, and we all felt light-hearted again—all were to go back.
Walking about in the streets of the little village during the forenoon, I was several times invited by men total strangers to me to go indoors with them into their own houses. They would then close the door, draw the curtains to, so that nobody could look in from the street, and say to me in a whisper that they had longed to meet and thank me for the sentiments I had uttered at Beaconsfield and Kimberley. “ You do not know" said they, “ how this country is governed, what a curse there is on us. No justice, detectives everywhere, no public opinion allowed, nor dare you differ from Government policy—all is monopoly. And our officials, such as Landdrosts, &c.—alas, it is a crying shame! ” The same was said to me by several parties, and these were all Africanders, Transvaal born, or coming originally from the Colony. I need not say that I was surprised, but also intensely grieved to find that matters were even worse than I had suspected. Aye, the people might well fight for liberty and independence. There was none of it in the country. Unfortunately they were fighting for it in a wrong way! Poor Transvaal—the yoke was indeed a galling one! Notwithstanding their outward union against what the people were taught to consider their common enemy—England—the mutterings and grumblings amongst themselves against their own wondrous specimens of Government officials were deep and strong.
It was a pitiable sight! During this morning, too, I became acquainted with the doctor and his family. What have I not to thank that grand old gentleman and his wife and daughter for! But for them I doubt if I ever would have left Zeerust alive. I feel almost sure I would not. His generosity, and invariable kindness and courtesy, his ever candid friendship and shrewd advice, God knows how much I am indebted to him for all this, and what a load of gratitude I owe him and would gladly pay, if possible. As for his family, his kind, gentle wife and daughter, always so sympathising, so full of comfort—welly they were to me simply ministering angels! From the depths of my heart I say may God reward them, and help me always gratefully to remember their courageous friendship for me. Remember, to treat a prisoner-of-war kindly meant then to lay yourself open to suspicion and consequent persecution. My noble friends braved all this. They were white people, as the saying goes. During all my stay in Zeerust not one of the people belonging to my own nationality ever showed me the least kindness, or offered me a drop of water even, except the few who were suspected of English proclivities, and who were up to that time utter strangers to me, but good Samaritans all the same, who could not, and would not, see a fellow-being suffer unjustly, whilst priest and Levite coldly passed by On the other side.
Aye, Dr. Blake, how I revere and honour you, my noble-hearted friend, and your noble family! Shall I ever be able to repay you something of what I owe you—a great debt of deep gratitude? I do trust so.
Back to my story now. A pleasant forenoon passed quickly—alas! too quickly. After dinner we were all summoned to the Landdrost's office. The Public Prosecutor there told us that the ladies would be looked after in the hotel, but that we men would be considered as prisoners of war: these were the instructions just received from Pretoria. Imagine what a thunderclap it was! I had but just begun to enjoy liberty, and here I was about to lose it again. Why? The Pretoria authorities had been communicated with, and they had decided that we should be re-arrested. You see, this unhappy Government has such a bad conscience that it is afraid even of women, railway gangers, and correspondents. Everything was grist that came to their mill in the way of spite.
And so we were marched off to prison, and thrown, the four of us, into cell No. 1, 18 feet by 9 feet. In another room seven more prisoners of war, gangers also, brought from near Mafeking, were huddled, and in another room four Kaffirs, two of them in chains. The misery of that first night in prison how shall I speak of it! But let me devote a chapter to something else first.
