He-is blatantly arming his burghers with German guns and building a corps of German Krupp artillery, and he is openly flirting with the Kaiser." Rhodes paused. "A German sphere of influence in the midst of Her Majesty's domains would forever damn our dreams of a British Africa. The Germans do not have our altruism." "All that good yellow gold going to Berlin," Ralph mused softly, and immediately regretted having spoken, but Mr. Rhodes did not seem to have heard, for he went on.
"How to reason with a man like Kruger? How can one even talk to a man who still believes implicitly that the earth is flat?" Mr. Rhodes was sweating again, although it was cool in the room. His hand shook so that as he reached for his glass, he knocked it over, and the golden cognac spread across the polished table-top. Jordan rose quickly and mopped it up before it could cascade into Mr. Rhodes" lap, and then he took a silver pillbox from his fob pocket, and from it placed, a white tablet close to Mr. Rhodes" right hand. The big man took it, and still breathing heavily, placed it under his tongue. After a few moments his breathing eased and he could speak again. (I went to him, gentlemen. I went to Pretoria to see Kruger at his own home. He sent a message with a servant, that he could not see me that day." They had all of them heard this story, their surprise was only that Mr. Rhodes could recount such a humiliating incident.
President Kruger had sent a black servant to one of the richest and most influential men in the world with this message.. "I am rather busy at the moment. One of my burghers has come to discuss a sick ox with me. Come back on Tuesday." "God knows," Doctor Jim intervened to break the embarrassed silence. "Mr. Rhodes has done everything a reasonable man could. To risk further insult from this old Boer could bring discredit not only on Mr. Rhodes personally, but on our Queen and her Empire." The little doctor paused and looked at each of his listeners in turn. Their faces were rapt, they waited intently for his next words. "What can we do about it? What must we do about it?" Mr. Rhodes shook himself, and looked at the young staff officer in his resplendent mess kit.
"Bobbie?"he said in invitation.
"Gentlemen, you may be aware that I have just returned from the Transvaal." Bobbie White lifted a leather briefcase from the floor beside his chair to the table, and from it produced a sheaf of crisp white paper. He passed a sheet to every man at the table.
Ralph glanced at his copy, and started slightly. It was the order of battle of the army of the South African Republic. His surprise was so intense that he missed the first part of what Bobbie White was saying.
"The fort at Pretoria is under repair and extension. The walls have been breached for this purpose and will be entirely vulnerable to a small determined force." Ralph had to force himself to believe what he was hearing. "Apart from the corps of artillery, there is no regular standing army. As you can see from the paper before you, the Transvaal depends upon its citizen commandos for defence. It requires four to six weeks for them to assemble into an effective force." Bobbie White finished his recital, and Mr. Rhodes turned from him to Percy Fitzpatrick.
"Percy?" he invited.
"You know what Kruger calls those of us whose capital and resources have developed his gold-mining industry for him? He calls us the "Uitlanders", the "Outlanders", the "Foreigners". You know also that we Outlanders have elected our own representatives, which we call the "Johannesburg Reform Committee". I have the honour to be one of the elected members of that Committee, and so I speak for every Englishman in the Transvaal." He paused and carefully dressed his moustache with his forefinger, and then went on. "I bring you two messages. The first is short and simple. It is, "We are determined and united to the cause. You may rely upon us to the utmost."" The men about the table nodded, but Ralph felt his skin tingle. They were taking this seriously it was not some boyish nonsense. They were plotting one of the most audacious acts of piracy in history. He kept his expression serious and calm with an enormous effort as Fitzpatrick went on.
"The second message is in the form of a letter signed by all the members of the Reform Committee. With your permission I shall read it to you. It is addressed to Doctor Jameson in his capacity as Administrator of Rhodesia, and it reads as follows. "Dear Sir, Johannesburg. The position of matters in this state has become so critical that we are assured that at no distant period there will be a conflict between the Transvaal government and the Uitlander population.
As the letter unfolded, Ralph recognized that it was a justification for armed insurrection.
"A foreign corporation of Germans and Hollanders is controlling our destinies, and in conjunction with the Boer leaders endeavouring to cast them in a mould which is wholly alien to the genius of the British peoples..
They were going to try to take by force of arms the richest gold reef in existence, Ralph sat bemused.
When our petition for franchise was debated in the Transvaal Volksraad, one member challenged the Uitlanders to fight for the rights they asked for, and not a single member spoke against him. The Transvaal government has called into existence all the elements necessary for armed conflict.
I It is under these circumstances that "we feel constrained to call upon you, as an Englishman, to come to our aid should a disturbance arise. We guarantee any expense you may incur by helping us, and we ask you to believe that nothing but sternest necessity has prompted this appeal." Percy Fitzpatrick looked up at Doctor Jim, and then finished.
"It is signed by all the members of the committee, Leonard, Phillips, Mr. Rhodes" brother Francis, John Hays Hammond, Farrar and by myself. We have not dated it." At the head of the table, Zouga Ballantyne let out his breath in a low whistle, but nobody else spoke while Jordan rose and passed down the table re-filling each glass from the crystal decanter. Mr. Rhodes was slumped forward over the table, his chin resting on the heel of his hand, staring out of the windows down across the lawns towards the far blue line of hills, the Hills of the Indunas, where once the Matabele king's kraal had stood. Everybody at the table waited for him, until at last he sighed heavily.
"I much prefer to find a man's price, and pay it, rather than to fight him, but we are not dealing with a normal man here. God save us all from saints and fanatics, give me a solid rogue every time." His head turned towards Doctor Jameson, and the dreaming blue eyes focused. "Doctor Jim," he invited, and the little doctor rode his chair back on its hind legs and thrust his hands deep into his pockets.
"We will need to send five thousand rifles and a million rounds of ammunition into Johannesburg." Intrigued and fascinated despite himself, Ralph interrupted to ask, "Where will you where will we get those? They are not common trade goods." Doctor Jim nodded. "That's a good question, Ballantyne. The rifles and ammunition are already in the mine stores of De Beers at Kimberley." Ralph blinked, the plot was far advanced, further than he had believed possible. Then he recalled the little doctor's suspicious behaviour at the base camp from which they had discovered the Harkness reef They must have been busy for months. He must find out all the details.
"How will we get them into Johannesburg? They'll have to be smuggled in, and it's a bulky shipment-" "Ralph," Mr. Rhodes smiled.
"You didn't really believe you were invited here for a social luncheon.
Who would you judge to be the most experienced of us in shipping weapons? Who carried the Martini rifles to Lobengula? Who is the shrewdest transport operator on the sub-continent?" " Ralph was startled.
"You," agreed Mr. Rhodes, and as Ralph stared at him, he felt a sudden unholy excitement welling up within him. He was to be at the centre of this fantastic conspiracy, privy to every detail. His mind began to race, he knew intuitively that this was one of the opportunities that comes a man's way once in a lifetime, and he had to wring from it every last advaniage.
"You will do it, of course?" A small shadow' passed across the penetrating blue eyes.
"Of course," said Ralph, but the shadow persisted. "I am an Englishman. I know my duty, "Ralph went on quietly and sincerely, and he saw the shadow clear from Mr. Rhodes" eyes. That was somethin
g he could believe in, something he could trust. He turned back to Doctor Jameson.
I am sorry, Mr. Rhodes said. "We interrupted you." And Jameson went on. "We will raise a mounted force of around six hundred picked men here-" and he looked at John Willoughby and Zouga Ballantyne, both of them proven soldiers. "I will rely heavily on you two." And Willoughby nodded, but Zouga frowned and asked, "Six hundred men will take weeks to ride from Bulawayo to Johannesburg." "We will not start from Bulawayo," Jameson replied evenly. "I have the approval of the British government to maintain a mobile armed force in Bechuanaland, on the railway concession strip which runs down the border of the Transvaal. The force is for the protection of the railway, but it will be based at Pitsani, a mere one hundred and eighty miles from Johannesburg. We can be there in fifty hours" hard riding, long before the Boers could raise any kind of resistance." It was at that moment that Ralph realized that it was feasible. Given Doctor Leander Starr Jameson's legendary luck, they could pull it off. They could take the Transvaal with the same ease as they had seized Matabeleland from Lobengula.
By God, what a prize that would be! A billion pounds sterling in gold, annexed to Rhodes" own land, Rhodesia. After that everything else was possible British Africa, a whole continent. Ralph was stunned at the magnitude of the design.
It was Zouga Ballantyne again who unerringly identified the fatal flaw in the scheme. "What is the position of Her Majesty's government?
Will they support us?" he asked. "Without them it will all be in vain." "I have just returned from London," Mr. Rhodes replied. "While I was there I dined with the colonial secretary, Mr. Joseph Chamberlain.
As you know, he has instilled a new spirit of vigour and determination into Downing Street. He is in complete sympathy with the plight of Our subjects in Johannesburg. He is also fully aware of the dangers of German intervention in southern Africa. Let me just assure you all that Mr. Chamberlain and I understand each other. I can say no more at this stage, you must trust me." If that is true, Ralph thought, then the chances of complete success were better than even. The swift thrust to the heart of the unprepared enemy, the uprising of armed citizenry, the appeal to a magnanimous British government, and finally the annexation.
As he listened to the planning, Ralph was swiftly calculating the consequences of the successful outcome of the involved, Corner House mining group, Rand Mines, Consolidated Goldfields, would all crash with it. A simple bear coup on the Johannesburg stock exchange could net millions of pounds.
Ralph Ballantyne felt a sense of awe at the magnitude of the prospect that faced him, a prospect of power and wealth such as he had never dreamed of until this moment. He almost missed the question, and looked up when Mr. Rhodes repeated it.
"I said, how soon can you leave for Kimberley to take charge of the shipments, Ralph?" "Tomorrow," Ralph replied evenly.
"I knew we could rely upon you," Mr. Rhodes nodded.
Ralph had lingered deliberately to be the last to leave King's Lynn.
Now he and his father stood on the veranda and watched the dust column raised by Mr. Rhodes" mule coach dwindling away down the hill.
Ralph leaned against one of the whitewashed pillars that supported the roof, with his sun browned muscular arms folded across his chest and his eyes crinkled against the spiralling smoke of the cheroot between his teeth.
"You aren't naive enough to accept young Percy's estimate of the Boers, are you, Papa?" Zouga chuckled. "Slow, suspicious, malevolent and all that nonsense." He shook his head. "They ride hard and shoot straight, they have fought every black tribe south of the Limpopo-" "Not to mention our own soldiers," Ralph reminded him. "Majuba Hill, 1881, General Calley and ninety of his men are buried on the peak, the Boers didn't lose a single man." "They are good soldiers," Zouga admitted, "but we will have surprise on our side." "However, you do agree that it will be an act of international banditry, Papa?" Ralph removed the cheroot from his mouth and tapped off the ash. "We won't have one shred of moral justification for it." Ralph watched the scar on Zouga's cheek turn white as bone-china. It was an infallible barometer of his mood.
"I do not understand," Zouga said, but they both knew he understood perfectly.
"It's robbery," Ralph persisted. "Not just a little footpaddery, but robbery on the grand scale. We are plotting to steal a country."
"Did we then steal this land from the Matabele?" Zouga demanded.
"That was different," Ralph smiled. "They were pagan savages, but here we are planning to overthrow a government of fellow Christians."
"When we consider the greater good of the Empire," Zouga's scar had turned from icy white to crimson.
"Empire, Papa?" Ralph was still smiling. "If there are two people who should be entirely honest with each other, they are you and me.
Look. at me, and tell me straight that there will be no profit in it for us other than the satisfaction of having done our duty to the Empire." But Zouga did not look at him. "I am a soldier-" "Yes," Ralph cut him short. "But you are also a rancher who has just come through the rinderpest. You managed to sell five thousand head of cattle, but we both know that was not enough. How much do you owe, Papa?" After a moment's hesitation, Zouga told him grudgingly. "Thirty thousand pounds." "Do you have any expectation of paying off those debts?" "No."
"Not unless we take the Transvaal?" Zouga did not reply, but the scar faded and he sighed.
"All right," Ralph told him. "I just wanted to be certain that I was not alone in my motives." "You will go through with it?" Zouga asked.
"Don't worry, Papa. We'll come out of it, I promise you that."
Ralph pushed himself away from the pillar, and called to the grooms to bring his horse.
From the saddle he looked down at his father and for the first time noticed how the weariness of age had faded the green of his eyes.
"My boy, just because some of us will be rewarded for our endeavours, it does not mean that the enterprise is not a noble one.
We are the servants of the Empire, and faithful servants are entitled to a fair wage." Ralph reached down and clasped his shoulder, then he picked up the reins and rode down the hill through the acacia forests.
The railhead was feeling its way up the escarpment, like a cautious adder, often following the ancient elephant roads, for these huge beasts had pioneered the easiest gradients and the gentlest passes. It had left the swollen baobabs and yellow fever trees of the Limpopo basin far below and the forests were lovelier, the air sweeter, and the streams clearer and colder.
Ralph's base camp had moved up with the railhead into one of the secluded valleys, just out of earshot of the hammers of the gangs driving the steel spikes into the teak railway sleepers. The spot had many of the charms of the remote wilderness. In the evenings a herd of sable antelope came down to feed in the grass glade below the camp, and the barking of baboons from the hills roused them each dawn. Yet the telegraph hut at the railhead was ten minutes" stroll away, around the foot of the wooded hill, and the locomotive bringing up the rails and sleepers from Kimberley delivered as well the latest copy of The Diamond Fields Advertiser, and any other small luxuries that the camp required.
In an emergency Cathy would have the railway overseer and any men of his gang to call upon, while the camp itself was protected by twenty loyal Matabele servants and Isazi, the little Zulu driver, who pointed out modestly that he alone was worth twenty more of the bravest Matabele. In the unlikely event of Cathy becoming lonely or bored, the Harkness Mine was only thirty miles away, and Harry and Vicky promised to ride across every weekend.
"Can't we come with you, Daddy?" Jonathan pleaded. "I could help you, really I could." Ralph lifted him into his lap. "One of us has to stay and look after Mama," he explained. "You are the only one I can trust." "We can take her with us," Jonathan suggested eagerly, and Ralph had a vision of his wife and child in the midst of an armed revolution, with barricades in the streets and Boer commandos ravaging the countryside.
"That would be very nice,
Jon-Jon," Ralph agreed, "but what about the new baby? What happens if the stork arrives here while we are all away and there is nobody to sign for your little sister?" " Jonathan scowled. He was already developing a healthy dislike for this not yet arrived but eternally present female personage. She seemed to stand squarely in the way of every pleasant prospect or exciting plan, both parents managed to introduce his darling sister into almost every conversation, and his mother spent much of the time formerly devoted to Master Jonathan's interests in knitting and sewing or just sitting smiling to herself. She no longer went out riding with him each morning and evening, nor indulged in those rowdy romps which he enjoyed so heartily. Jonathan had in fact already consulted Isazi on the possibility of getting a message to the stork and telling him not to bother, that they had changed their minds. However, Isazi had not been very encouraging, although he had promised to have a word with the local witch doctor on Jonathan's behalf.
Now confronted once more with that ubiquitous female, Jonathan capitulated with poor grace.
Wilbur Smith - B3 The Angels Weep Page 27