To the American Public, whose sympathy was my chief support through days of bitter trial, this book is gratefully dedicated. My personal experience forms the subject of my story. The causes of the Revolt in Johannesburg, and the ensuing political questions, are but lightly touched upon, in deference to the silence enforced upon my husband as one of the terms of his liberation by the Boer Government. I hope I may be able to tell the truth always, and to see it aright according to the eyes which G

Totsey the terrier lay blinking in the hot African sun, while Cecilia Rhodes, the house kitten, languished in a cigar box wrapped about with twine to represent bars of iron. Above her meek face was a large label marked 'African Lion.' Her captor, my young son Jack, was out again among the flower-beds in quest of other big game, armed with my riding-crop. The canvas awnings flapped gently in the cool breeze. Every now and then a fan-like arm of one of the large Madeira chairs would catch the impe

My diary carries the story on:— December 30.—We find the town intensely excited, but there is no disorder. Men are hurrying about in cabs and on foot with determined-looking faces, but no other visible evidence of the day's tragedy. My husband ran in to see how we were faring about 8 o'clock this evening. I had not seen him since early morning. He told me that a Reform Committee had been formed of the leading men of the city. Also that the Americans had called a meeting in the course of the afte

January 1, 1896.—With the dawn of day I am out of bed and at the window waiting for the cry of the newsboy. What will the New Year bring us? With nervous dread I opened the paper brought to my door. In large headlines it told of disaster. The Natal train filled with refugee women and children has been wrecked, with great loss of life. The papers say forty have been killed outright, and many fearfully injured. Entire families have been wiped out in some cases. Mr. —— has lost his wife, his sister

Sunday, January 12.—Mr. and Mrs. Perkins called this morning to advise Betty's not going immediately to Pretoria, as was her intention. Mr. Perkins said that the Boer feeling was very bitter, and foreign women were insulted in the streets. Advocate Wessels has also written to me, insisting upon my waiting two or three days, as my presence in Pretoria could do no good, and might prejudice my husband's cause. A little trunk was packed and sent to my husband last night. I got out of bed to superint

January 21.—The Burghers are disbanding and returning to their homes. Trade is thoroughly unsettled, and business of every kind is in an unsatisfactory condition. Great disorder prevails in the town. Scarcely a night but there is some sort of disturbance between citizens and police; the latter are mostly raw German recruits. Dr. Jameson and his officers left Pretoria yesterday. Dr. Jameson looked very downcast, and sat gazing stolidly before him until the train started. They were cheered at many

Sir James Sivewright said, as I left my rooms for the President's house, 'I am glad that you are going. You will find a man with a rough appearance but a kind heart.' Mr. Sammy Marx accompanied me. The home of the President of the South African Republic is an unpretentious dwelling, built of wood and on one floor. There is a little piazza running across the front, upon which he is frequently seen sitting, smoking his pipe of strong Boer tobacco, with a couple of his trusted burghers beside him.

Ash Wednesday, February 19.—The dynamite explosion was something terrific. Fifty-five tons exploded at one time, wounding 700 people, killing 80, and leaving 1,500 homeless. It ripped a chasm in the earth deep enough to hold an Atlantic steamer with all her rigging. The Kaffirs thought the sun had burst. Betty says the noise of the report was something awful. Little Jacky was digging in the garden at the time. He returned to the house at once with a very troubled face. The coachman coming from t

The preliminary trial dragged its undignified course through the Courts with a fortnight's interruption, because a youth named Shumacher refused to give his opinions on a certain subject to the Attorney-General, and was committed to prison for contempt. The High Commissioner was going through genuflexions before the Boer President. Peace, peace, at any price! at the cost of broken promises, humiliating compromises, and the lives of sixty-four Reformers, if need be. [8] Mr. Chamberlain had caught

At Cape Town I saw the High Commissioner—a gentle old man with delicate hands. He had lived two-thirds of his life, and passed the virile period. The responsibility of taking my husband to Pretoria was more than I could assume alone; my strength was nearly spent. Doctors Thomas and Scholtz assisted me in every way. Although called separately, and not in consultation, these two gentlemen were far too broad-minded and generously interested in our welfare to stand upon professional etiquette. Dr. S

My husband reached Pretoria Sunday evening, April 26. The information that we had received en route, regarding the pleas of guilty entered by the imprisoned Reformers, was confirmed by his associates: the other three leaders, Messrs. Rhodes, Farrar, and Phillips, had entered a plea of guilty under count one of the indictment for high treason, the fifty-nine Reformers entering a like plea of guilty under the count of lese-majesté. As conjectured by us when we heard of this action of the Reformers

By a strange providence Betty and I missed the early train. I had not reckoned on the delay in dressing which sorrow and fatigue could occasion. The paper had announced that the sentence was to be given at noon. Though I had no intention of being present in the Court-room, I wished to be within reach of my husband in case he should need me. We took the local train which left Johannesburg at 10.30. Our journey came to an end. I saw Mr. Rose Innes and Dr. Scholtz on the platform. 'Is it the death

No cable of political purport could be sent from Pretoria safe from mutilation. I therefore despatched Mr. Hammond's secretary to Cape Town with a message to the American press, reporting Mr. Wessels' plea for the Reformers, the statement of the four leaders, and the sentence. I did this, believing that, if the American public fully understood the circumstances of the case, popular sympathy would allow no stone to remain unturned to protect their unfortunate countryman from so violent and unjust

My diary continues through May: First Week .—Petitions in favour of the Reformers are being signed all over the country. All feeling against the Reform Committee has veered round, and the strongest sympathy is now felt for them. Only the extreme of the Boer and Hollander factions chant the old story of their trying to subvert the Government—conniving with Jameson, and then deserting him, &c., &c. Landdrost Schutte and Captain Shields quarrel over who shall have charge of the jail

One day the 'Star' (in a third edition) announced the great decision was at last concluded. The sixty-three Reformers were to be divided into four groups and sentenced in lots. Ten were to be liberated because of ill-health. Some were to be imprisoned twelve months, others five, and still others three months. The four leaders were sentenced to fifteen years' imprisonment, which, if carried out, was equivalent to death. However, this sentence was provisional, and it was understood petitions would

Those good people who have followed me thus far will see that a woman's part in a revolution is a very poor part to play. There is little hazard and no glory in it. The day we made Southampton, as we stood, a number of Reformers and Reformers' wives, on the 'Norham's' deck, one of the gentlemen who had come to welcome us asked: 'Mrs. Hammond, what did you do in the revolution?' 'She helped us bear our trouble,' said Lionel Phillips, and his words were sweet praise to my ears. A few weeks later,

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