All the foregoing applies to the middle-class section of the refugees.  The poorer ones grumbled also, but in a different manner, and their irritation was rather directed towards the military authorities.  As for the millionaires, with a few exceptions they also did not care for the High Commissioner for reasons elaborated in earlier pages of this volume.  They even considered that it would be prejudicial to their interests to allow Rhodes to be upon too intimate terms with Sir Alfred Milner, so they kept a faithful watch at Government House as well as at Groote Schuur, and in doing so added to the tension which, up to the last moment of Sir Alfred’s tenure of office at Cape Town, existed between him and Cecil Rhodes.  Too courteous to tell his redoubtable adversary that he had better mind his own business, convinced, on the other hand, of the latter’s great capacities and great patriotism, Sir Alfred was constantly doing all that he could do in reason to pacify him.  Cecil Rhodes used to make most bitter and untrue remarks as to the stupidity of the Imperial Government at home and the incapacity of the men in charge of its armies in South Africa.  All this was repeated right and left with the usual exaggeration, and reached, as perhaps was intended, those whom it concerned.  The result was that Rhodes found himself tabooed at Pretoria.  This he said was due to the great fear which his influence over public opinion in South Africa inspired among those in command there.

The big trouble with Rhodes was that he would never own himself in the wrong.  He quibbled, he hesitated, he postponed replies to questions submitted for his consideration.  He wearied everybody around him with his constant prevarications in regard to facts he ought to have accepted without flinching if he wanted to regain some of his lost prestige.  Unfortunately for himself and for the cause of peace in South Africa, Rhodes fancied himself immensely clever at “biding his time,” as he used to say.  He had ever lurking somewhere in his brain the conviction that one day the whole situation at Cape Town and Pretoria would become so entangled that they would have to send for him to beg him as a favour to step round and by his magic touch unravel all difficulties.  His curious shyness, his ambition and his vanity battled with each other so long that those in authority at last came to the sad conclusion that it was far better to look elsewhere for support in their honest efforts at this important moment in the existence of the African Continent.

One last attempt was made.  It was backed up by people in London, among others by Stead.  Stead liked the Great Imperialist as well as one man can like another, and had a great and justified confidence in Rhodes’ good heart as well as in that indefinable nobility which manifested itself at times in his strange, wayward nature.  Moreover, being gifted with a keen sense of intuition, the famous journalist realised quite well the immense work that might have been done by England through Rhodes had the latter consented to sweep away those men around him who were self-interested.