My Association with Rhodes, Beginning in 1872—The Meissonier Engraving—A Grateful Carpenter—An Amusing Incident—The Two R's in Partnership: Rhodes and Rudd— The De Beers Company comes to the Rescue of the Chartered Company—The Mouse in the Lion's Cage—Rhodes Reminiscent and Prophetic—His Scepticism about War—My Rush to Kimberley—Rhodes in Kimberley During the Seige— Rhodes' Last Meeting with Rose-Innes, and Death—Great Loss to the Empire.

I first met Cecil John Rhodes on the Diamond Fields in 1872, and the acquaintance then formed subsequently ripened into a warm friendship, which lasted right up to the day of Rhodes' death. It is very well known among my friends that I entered Parliament in 1897 at his urgent request. When Barney Barnato died Rhodes was on his way to Rhodesia, and I received a telegram from him telling me, among other things, that he would like me to take Mr. Barnato's place in Parliament. I was returned unopposed in 1897 for Kimberley. After Rhodes' death I represented Barkly West, and since Union I represented Beaconsfield until I retired at the last General Election (1929).

While I was in command of the Griqualand West Brigade in 1895, we had a very comfortable officers' mess at the Drill Hall, Kimberley. We were very proud of the whole show. I said to Rhodes, who was at De Beers at the time, "I would like you to see our Drill Hall." He said "all right," and we went straight there. After a good look round he said it was all very creditable. While we were in the officers' messroom, Rhodes said, "By-the-by, I have purchased in Paris some proof engravings of a few of Meissonier's celebrated war pictures. Would you like to have one for the officers' messroom?" I said I would be only too pleased. Some time in December, 1895, one of Meissonier's beautiful pictures arrived, and I wrote a letter to Mr. Rhodes thanking him for the gift.

Later on I went down to Cape Town, where I heard about the Jameson Raid. The news pained me very much. My first thought was about Rhodes, as he was a great friend of mine, and I felt that he would be very much distressed about it. Alfred Beit was in town at the time. Meeting him the day after Jameson's surrender, I asked him how Rhodes was, and whether he would care to see anybody. De Beers Company's annual meeting was to take place in a fortnight's time, and it was generally expected that Rhodes would take the chair. Beit urged me to go and see Rhodes. On the Saturday morning I went out to Groot Schuur, and was taken to the study, where Mr. Rhodes was walking to and fro.

I was shocked to see the change that had taken place in his appearance in so short a time. He seemed to be in a terribly depressed and agitated condition. He looked quite ten years older. I was at a loss what to say. I told him I was sorry to hear what had taken place in the Transvaal; that it was bound to distress him for some time. But I urged him to face the trouble, and I suggested that he should come up to De Beers and preside at the annual meeting, as everybody was expecting that he would do so.

"Harris," he said, "it would not do for me to go up to the meeting, or to take any part in any public function just now. You had better go up and take the chair yourself." Some further conversation took place, but everything Rhodes said was tinged with sadness. He seemed to be overwhelmed by what had taken place. All this trouble and anxiety had come upon him while he was Prime Minister of the Cape; all his realised ambitions were in the balance. Suddenly he said, " By-the-by, Harris, did you receive that Meissonier engraving I sent you?" I was astonished at his switching off into such a small matter when affairs of such magnitude were affecting him so deeply I replied, "Yes, Rhodes, I sent a letter to you a few days ago, just before I left Kimberley, thanking you for it." "Ah, yes," said Rhodes sadly, "I have only opened telegrams this last week."

Rhodes was one of the most grateful men in the world. When anyone did him a good turn he never forgot it, and he invariably repaid the kindness with interest. That, undoubtedly, was one of his outstanding characteristics. And he greatly appreciated any manifestation of gratitude in others—one instance recurs to my mind.

Rhodes and I were in the habit of riding around the mountain at Groot Schuur. I had a place near to him out there. One morning, before breakfast, I was out riding with him when we were accosted by a working man who said, to Rhodes," Excuse me, sir, but are you Mr. Rhodes ?" "I am," replied Rhodes, "what do you want?" "I came out to this country," said the man, "to try and better myself. I have been in Cape Town some months, and I have not been able to get anything to do. I hear you have big works or mines up country, and I have come to see if you can give me a job." Rhodes asked the man, "What can you do?" The man replied "I am a carpenter by trade."

Rhodes said he was surprised to learn that a carpenter could not get employment in Cape Town. The man said he had got a little work, but he became so hard up that he had been compelled to part with some of his tools. "I have a wife and children in England, and I am anxious to send them some money," he said. "I must look after them. I have good credentials from the place where I served my apprenticeship in England. I wish you would help me. I would be very grateful to you." Rhodes replied, "Well, I have nothing here that you can do for me," and he turned and asked me "Are there any vacancies in Kimberley?" I replied, "They are always willing to take on good workmen, but they may be full up." "I will give you a note," said Rhodes to the man, "which you can take to Pickering at Kimberley," and he wrote in pencil, " Dear Pickering, I think this man is all right, give him a job."

Rhodes handed the pencilled note to the man, and said, " Look here. How are you going to get to Kimberley?" "I will walk there," replied the man. "But it is 647 miles," said Rhodes. "I have a few tools left," was the reply. " I will try to get a little work on the way to Kimberley." Turning to me, Rhodes asked what the railway fare to Kimberley was, and I replied that it was £4 or thereabouts.

Rhodes never carried money. He turned to me and said "Harris, have you any money?" "Yes," I replied, "I have a £5 note." Rhodes took the note and handed it to the man saying, "Here, this will pay your fare and the food for your journey. Don't lose it." The man expressed his thanks and left us.

About eight months later, we were in the Kimberley Club. I said to Rhodes, "There is a letter in the rack for you." Rhodes opened it and beamed all over. He appeared to be delighted. It was a letter from the carpenter thanking Rhodes for the job that had been given to him, and saying that although he had been sending money to his wife and children, he had been able to save a little, and he returned the £5 note which had been lent to him.

"This sort of thing repays one," said Rhodes, still smiling, "for all the disappointments one experiences in cases of this kind." He was proceeding to put the "fiver" into his pocket. "Hold on, Rhodes!" I said, "that's my fiver. I lent it to you at Groot Schuur." Rhodes laughed heartily. He would have made £5 on the transaction if I hadn't stopped him. Yes, he gave it to me all right, and he had another good laugh as I put the note safely into my pocket.

I remember an amusing incident which took place at the entrance to the Kimberley Exhibition, in 1892, as a consequence of Rhodes' habit of never carrying money. Lord Loch, the Governor, was to preside at the luncheon, and Rhodes was down to respond to the toast of the Mining Industries.

When Rhodes arrived at the turnstiles he attempted to walk straight through. He was stopped by the official on duty, who apparently did not know him. The man remarked, " Two shillings, sir." Rhodes hurriedly—he had arrived rather late for the function—fumbled through his pockets, and, as usual, found that he had not a farthing with him. Notwithstanding his protestations, the man held Rhodes up until a friend arrived and lent him the two shillings.

After the siege of Kimberley was raised in February, 1900, Rhodes intimated that he intended going to England. Before he left for the coast he said to me, "Harris, you have done so much for me, can I do anything for you while I am there?" "Yes," I replied, "there is a private matter of some importance that you might attend to for me." Rhodes replied that he would do it with pleasure, and he carefully made a note of what I desired him to do for me in a little book which he usually carried.

I was at the docks just before the Norman sailed. I got there just as Rhodes was going up the companion-way. The quay was densely packed with people. Rhodes was surrounded by friends wishing him good-bye. After a big struggle I got near him, and he helped to pull me through the crowd to him. "That is what you want me to do for you, Harris?" said Rhodes, pulling from his pocket the little note-book, and thrusting it towards me with the page open. It was such a private matter, too, but of course no one could see what was written there.

I knew Rhodes by sight for about eighteen years, but only became intimately connected with him when I was appointed Barney Barnato's alternate on the De Beers Board of Directors in 1890. In the early 'seventies Rhodes, C. D. Rudd and Stow were claim-holders in the De Beers mine. I think they amalgamated their interests later on. I have an idea that Rhodes and Rudd were partners originally in digging and store-keeping. I know they were in partnership when Rhodes returned to Oxford in order to take his degree, as they corresponded regularly with each other during that period. In those days Rhodes exhibited a capacity for business of no mean order, as evidenced in the many letters he wrote to Rudd at that period.

In the early days of the Diamond Fields Rhodes was a very active young man, anxious to amass wealth. He knew that money was power, and a great lever in the accomplishment of big schemes. He must have been inspired in early life with Empire expansion, as his eyes were constantly turned to the North. His greatest ambition was to be a factor in connecting Cape Town with Cairo by railway, the British Flag to fly along the whole route. His ultimate object was the United States of South Africa. This was the vision of a great man prepared to devote his whole fortune to the furtherance of a mighty undertaking. He did not crave for wealth for his own pleasure and comfort, but as a great Imperialist and patriotic Briton he wanted it, feeling that in the fulfilment of his ideals South Africa would largely benefit.

If British statesmen had been as far-seeing as Rhodes, and had they been imbued with his vision, the Belgian Congo would not, to-day, be blocking the way to Rhodes' Cape to Cairo scheme. The Empire has to thank Rhodes for the acquisition of Rhodesia, which, indeed, has an immense future. He had a great struggle to secure it, and it was a financial burden to Rhodes and a few friends to retain it without any financial assistance from the British Government. Money was urgently needed, but it was never forthcoming from this source.

It was only as a result of generous financial support from De Beers Company that the Chartered Company was able to defray, for a time, the expenses of administration, and to tide over a very anxious and precarious period. I remember Mr. Currey, Rhodes' private secretary, coming to Kimberley in March, 1892, and interviewing me in regard to the serious financial condition of the Chartered Company. At this time I was Barnato's alternate on the De Beers Board of Directors.

An alternate had all the powers of a Director, but only the four Life Governors possessed the right of appointment. The object of Mr. Currey's visit was to obtain financial assistance from the De Beers Company for the British South Africa Company, but this would not be justified without the consent of the four Life Governors, who were specially interested in De Beers profits. It was, therefore, necessary to secure Mr. Barnato's support, the other three Life Governors having already assented. Mr. Barnato was then in England, and as his representative I was appealed to by Mr. Currey to acquiesce on his behalf. I replied that I could not do so without consulting my principal, as the proposal was outside the sphere of the company's operations as a producer of diamonds. I mentioned that if there should be a serious breakdown of machinery, or the destruction of a big shaft, and a very large sum was required to repair the damage, I would consent without reference to Mr. Barnato. I, however, promised I would cable immediately, exercising all my influence to obtain his concurrence. Currey said that Rhodes was averse to this, to which I replied, "Then I am sorry; I cannot commit the Company."

Currey, with a solemn countenance, pondered for a moment, and then dramatically exclaimed, "Mr. Mitchell, General Manager of the Standard Bank, refuses positively to honour any more cheques from the Chartered Company unless we can provide approved security by one o'clock today. Failing this the bank will refuse payment of the last cheques drawn."

I was in a quandary, and asked, "How about Rhodes and Beit? Cannot they assist?" Currey answered that they had already done so to a very great extent, but they were not in a position to do any more at the present time. Currey quickly rejoined, "Harris, you must really stretch a point. Look what this means to Rhodes."

The position was serious. I felt it might possibly mean a knock-out blow, with far-reaching consequences. The situation brooked no delay, as only two hours remained for a telegram to reach Mr. Mitchell. My mind was battling 'twixt duty to my principal and my admiration for Rhodes and his Imperialism. What would become of Rhodesia? I conjectured all sorts of happenings —annexation to the Cape, bilingualism, and those " walk-into-my-parlour" promises never to be kept, like the attractive offers made to Griqualand West in 1879 by Sprigg and Upington.

These thoughts rushed quickly through my harassed mind. In a flash I decided that De Beers Company should take the responsibility and come to the rescue. I told Currey that the most Barnato could do was to cancel my appointment as his alternate on the Board, which was a fftefe triviality as compared with a serious financial crisis in Rhodesia.

I left Currey hurriedly and rushed to the De Beers Company's Board Room where the necessary resolution was passed, and within ten minutes a telegram was on its way to the Standard Bank, Cape Town, conveying the information that the De Beers Company would furnish the necessary assistance and guarantees. These amounted in all to £220,500—two items of £35,000 each, and a continuity of forty-three monthly payments extending over three years of £3,500 per month.

Happy to relate, Barnato did not cancel my appointment, and the Chartered Company eventually repaid De Beers the whole amount of the loan, together with interest. Rhodes subsequently thanked me, but, as I told him, I was only "the mouse in the lion's cage."

During the season of 1899 I was a member of a small shooting party which made its headquarters at McFarlane's farm (the property of De Beers Company) some sixteen miles from Kimberley. Rhodes and I became separated from the general party, so we did some shooting on our own. At sundown we started to return to the farm, and walked our horses across the veld so as to avoid the many holes and dongas which lay in our path.

It was a beautiful moonlight night, and Rhodes was in reminiscent mood.

Rhodes suddenly broke the silence as we meandered on our way. "Harris," he said, "feeling in the Colony is changing in my favour. The people are beginning to exhibit their former regard for me. I will again be Prime Minister of the Colony, and you, I am sure, will not make a bad Treasurer-General." I laughed inwardly at the latter suggestion, and thought Rhodes very optimistic as regards his own political future, feeling certain, in my own mind, that the Jameson Raid would have barred for ever the road to his occupying that position again.

But Rhodes, after all, was right, which fact was amply proved in the General Election of 1904, when Jameson became Prime Minister of the Cape, a position which Rhodes would have secured with a bigger majority had he lived, and Dr. Jameson, I am sure, would have been only too willing to play second fiddle to his old chief.

Colonel Forbes Taylor, seconded from the Imperial Army, was at this time in command of the Cape Colonial Artillery with headquarters at King Williams Town. I wrote to him pointing out the state of affairs existing, and drew attention to the absence of artillery should Kimberley be attacked. On his own responsibility that officer forwarded to Kimberley six seven-pounders with ammunition. I heard afterwards that he was severely reprimanded by the Government for despatching these weapons without official sanction. This, I may state in parenthesis, would never have been forthcoming.

I knew that about this time the Transvaal Government had been importing through Delagoa Bay a large number of up-to-date Creusot guns from 15 to 100-pounders, against which our seven-pounders were no match. Kimberley, I argued, would be in range of their shrapnel, while the Boers would be outside the range of our common shell—a very serious disadvantage for a beleagured town. I was most anxious to procure guns that would give a Roland for every Oliver from those that the Boers could bring against us. I therefore arranged to meet Rhodes at Groot Schuur to discuss the situation privately with him.

I think it was about the middle of June, 1899, that I dined alone with Rhodes. After dinner we sat on the verandah of that historic residence, Groot Schuur. I explained the entire position to him, and expressed my firm opinion that war was inevitable and imminent. Kimberley would be handicapped without artillery to match the then modern weapons of the enemy. Rhodes listened with the greatest patience to all the arguments I advanced, and then turning to me said, "Well, Harris, what do you propose? What is your plan?" I emphasised how highly necessary it was to cable to Armstrongs to forward immediately six 4.7 long range guns with 1,000 shrapnel and 1,000 rounds of common shell for each gun to reach Kimberley in two months, or at the latest ten weeks.

Rhodes looked at me with a puzzled gaze, and asked, "Harris, why are you so certain that there will be war?" I told him that so certain was I of a clash of arms that before leaving Kimberley I had organised a small but reliable Intelligence Department. I also imparted my latest information to him, namely, that both Republics were distributing arms and ammunition to all sympathisers domiciled in the Cape Colony near the borders of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State.

The silence which followed our conversation was only broken when Rhodes affirmed that there would be no war. "Kruger," he said, "knows perfectly well that he has a strong English Government to deal with, and not Gladstone." The hands of the watch moved slowly on; indeed, we must have been talking for nearly two hours, and it was time for me to catch my last train into town. I rose from my seat, bade Rhodes goodnight, and expressed a departing regret that I did not agree with him.

He seemed sorry at the momentary conflict of opinion, and, urging me to stay awhile, he inquired, "What will these guns cost?" I could not tell him definitely, but hazarding a guess, I suggested that the amount would be in the neighbourhood of £30,000. "Well," said he, "if you feel so strongly about the matter, go ahead. An amount of £30,000 will not ruin De Beers Company, and if there is no war, as I am sure there will not be, we can give the guns to the Kimberley Volunteers."

Rhodes was too big a man to blame me for spending so large a sum of money, even if there was no war. He was a man who would never have said, "Harris, I told you so!" But frankly I was worried, and his attitude kept me thinking. I had a mile walk from Groot Schuur to the Rondebosch railway station, and on the way many different thoughts rushed through my harassed brain. I said to myself, "I am a very small man compared with Rhodes, who has more inner knowledge and information than I have. The De Beers Company has already been induced through my instrumentality to spend about £20,000 on war material. Am I justified in setting my opinion against that of the great Rhodes—an opinion which may cost the Company another £30,000?" Consequently, I decided to allow the matter to drop.

During the siege of Kimberley, when we were being shelled every day except Sundays, my thoughts turned to those 4.7 guns. What a Godsend they would have been! The Boers then could not have taken up a single effective gun position around our defences which could not have easily been reached by shell from these weapons. Had we had them, I doubt whether the enemy could have so closely besieged us, for we could have driven them out of every gun position which they occupied.

The Cape Parliament was in session in September, 1899, and my seat was on the Opposition benches directly behind Rhodes. I was in receipt of information from Kimberley, and the news convinced me that there would be a war. I became impatient, and was anxious to return to my constituents to render what assistance I could. Turning to Rhodes I said, "I intend leaving for Kimberley to-morrow. There is going to be a war." He was still under the impression that I was wrong, and told me so in unequivocal terms. I was influenced, and remained in Parliament.

Three days later I received another report from my principal Intelligence Officer, and this left no doubt in my mind as to what was happening. I was determined to lose no time in reaching Kimberley. When the House met that afternoon I told Rhodes of my intention, but he still persuaded me to wait until the end of the session. "Our Party cannot afford to lose your vote," he said. I felt that in the event of war my first place was among my people—the constituents who had stood so loyally by me—who were worth more than the value of a single vote. Consequently, I paid no heed to Rhodes' advice, and that night I entrained for Kimberley, leaving my wife and family in residence at the Mount Nelson Hotel.

On arrival at my destination, my first call was on Colonel Kekewich. In the course of conversation he told me that the civilian population of the town was very apathetic, and thought that his force of 550 Regulars was sufficient to protect the town, with a perimeter of eleven and a quarter miles, against any onslaught of the Boers. He also pointed out that Colonel Scott Turner had endeavoured to raise a Town Guard, but there had been no real response from the citizens. Kekewich further mentioned that he intended advising Lord Milner to retire his force to the Orange River, for in the event of war his small column, if left in Kimberley, would be "in the air." He was perfectly right from a military point of view. I asked him to wait for a few days to see what could be done in the matter of raising a Town Guard.

In the meantime I interviewed several of the large commercial employers of the town, and told them what Colonel Kekewich intended doing if there was not a ready response to his proclamation for the formation of a Town Guard, mentioning that De Beers Company would encourage their employees to join. This had an electrifying effect, and during the following week more recruits came forward than we could arm.

We selected 3,000 men, a fair sprinkling of whom had seen service in previous campaigns either in the police or volunteers. I reported the result to Colonel Kekewich, who was obviously delighted at the outcome, and I promised to gladden his heart still more in the course of the following two or three weeks. He replied, " Harris, I wish you to take command," and I readily assented. Then came the herculean task of organising, officering, clothing and drilling this large body.

We purchased all the .303 rifles obtainable in the Colony, bought up all the khaki suits locally and elsewhere, formed the men into companies of 100 strong, and appointed a small complement of officers and non-commissioned officers. Some difficulty then arose concerning the need for drill instructors, and I brought this important matter to the notice of Kekewich. He asked me how many instructors I would require, and I said I would want at least sixty. "Where are you going to get them from?" he asked. "From the Loyal North Lancs," I answered. But he doubted if we could get even a third of that number from the half battalion then in Kimberley.

I was struck with a happy thought. It might be an inducement, I said, if I paid instructors two shillings and sixpence per drill of one and a half hours. "But, my dear boy, they don't exist!" said the Colonel, who left me with the promise that he would see what could be done in the matter. An order was immediately issued to the effect that the Officer Commanding the Town Guard was prepared to pay instructors at the rate of two shillings and sixpence per drill of one and a half hours, and that qualified men would be allowed to take two drills per day.

When this information passed through the ranks there was no dearth of instructors. Men tumbled over each other to get the jobs, and really good instructors they were. When I saw the Colonel some time later, he said to me with a smile, "Neither the Adjutant nor I ever realised we had anything approaching the number that has come forward from the North Lancs." Some of the soldiers drew as much as £7 a month, and remitted a large portion of this "bounty" to their relatives in Lancashire. It has never been disputed that money talks, and, as in peace so in war, one can get anything for it—even drill instructors!

During the whole of the time Rhodes was in the Kimberley siege he was never known to take cover, and for a period we were shelled every day, except Sundays. He walked about and rode all over the place, giving a cheerful word here and a direction there, particularly in regard to the food supplies for the poorer inhabitants of the town. He was most assiduous in finding work for the poor and for the coloured people, by all of whom he was well liked.

Rhodes was very anxious during the siege to get into communication with Baden-Powell at Mafeking. He asked one of the De Beers Compound Managers if he had a reliable native who knew that part of the country, and would take a message through the Boer lines to Mafeking. Shortly afterwards the Compound Manager brought into De Beers office a native who assured Rhodes that he knew the country well; that he came from Bechuanaland and Mafeking, and that he would get the message through for him. Rhodes warned him that he would have to avoid the roads and make his way across the hills. The native replied that it was the nearest way, and that he would go over the hills.

Producing fifty sovereigns and a letter, Rhodes told the native that if he took the letter to Baden-Powell and brought an answer back from him, he would be given the fifty sovereigns. Rhodes put the gold into a bag and placed it in the safe, and said to the native " If I am not here, this gentleman (indicating the secretary), or someone else, will give you this money when you return with the answer." Rhodes gave the boy a few pounds to help him during the journey. The boy did the double journey all right; he brought an answer, and was paid the £50.

It was in 1902 during the Boer War that Rhodes and I, when in Cape Town, went to interview Sir Gordon Sprigg concerning the large amount of expenditure entailed in the maintenance of the Colonial column during hostilities.

As we were leaving the office of Sir Gordon Sprigg, we came face-to-face with Mr. James Rose-Innes (later Sir James, Chief Justice of the Union). For years he and Rhodes had not been on speaking terms.

Rhodes whispered to me " There's Rose-Innes, Counsel for the Chartered Company. Why should we be at cross-purposes ?" He immediately went up to Rose-Innes and greeted him with a cheery "good morning." Rhodes said, "I see no reason why we should not shake hands." "Nor do I," answered Rose-Innes, and they immediately entered into conversation.

Rhodes afterwards took his departure. Turning to me, Rose-Innes said, "I am glad that I shook hands with Rhodes, because to me he looks very ill."

About a month later, on March 26, 1902, Cecil Rhodes passed away.

Rhodes' early demise was a greater loss to the Empire and to South Africa than is generally realised; had he lived in all probability he would have associated himself with Botha and Smuts— two far-seeing statesmen—who would have furthered his schemes for the expansion of the Union. Rhodes was not a dreamer. He saw the possibilities of achieving the objects he had in view. He realised all the difficulties, but with him difficulties must be overcome, and not avoided. Amalgamating the varied and many interests in the four diamond mines was a gigantic venture. Many men with less resolution than Rhodes would have given up the project, which at times appeared to be insuperable. But he never lost heart. He set himself a task and was determined to succeed where others had failed. He never allowed trifles to bar the way. He tempted several concerns to join hands by offers of generous terms, knowing full well that the result of amalgamation, and the control of the output of diamonds, would more than compensate for liberal conditions granted to outside concerns.

Many thought that Rhodes was paying and giving too much to induce competitors to fall in with his scheme of amalgamating the different interests in the four mines, but events proved that Rhodes was right, for he not only stabilised the industry, in which the large shareholders of companies and syndicates benefited enormously, but he laid the foundation of his own immense fortune which enabled him to found by his will the Rhodes Trust, an educational project having far-reaching effects.