Sir Gordon Sprigg wrote:—­

“August 29th, 1880.

“I don’t feel able yet to give expression to my sentiments of profound regret that Her Majesty’s Government have thought it advisable to recall you from the post which you have held with such conspicuous advantage to South Africa.  They have driven from South Africa ’the best friend it has ever known.’  For myself I may say that in the midst of all the difficulties with which I have been surrounded, I have always been encouraged and strengthened by the cheerful view you have taken of public affairs, and that I have never had half-an-hour’s conversation with your Excellency without feeling a better, and, I believe, a wiser man.”

Madame Koopmans de Wet, a lady of an old family, Dutch of the Dutch, wrote to him, Nov. 16th, 1880:—­

“It is with feelings of the deepest sorrow that I take the liberty of addressing these lines to you....  What is to be the end of all this now? for now, particularly, do the Cape people miss their Governor, for now superior qualities in everything are wanted.  Dear Sir Bartle, you know the material we have; it is good, but who is to guide?  It is plain to every thinking mind that our position is becoming more critical every day....

“But with deep sorrow let me say, England’s, or rather Downing Street’s treatment, has not tightened the bonds between the mother country and us.  You know we have a large circle of acquaintances, and I cannot say how taken aback I sometimes am to hear their words.  See, in all former wars there was a moral support in the thought that England, our England, was watching over us.  Now there is but one cry, ’We shall have no Imperial help.’  Why is this?  We have lost confidence in a Government who could play with our welfare; and among the many injuries done us, the greatest was to remove from among us a ruler such as your Excellency was.”

“As the day drew near, the Cape Town people were perplexed how to express adequately their feelings on the occasion.  It was suggested that on the day he was to embark, the whole city should mourn with shops closed, flags half-mast high, and in profound silence.  But more cheerful counsels prevailed.

“He was to leave by the Pretoria on the afternoon of Sept. 15th.  Special trains had brought in contingents from the country.  The open space in front of Government House, Plein Street, Church Square, Adderley Street, the Dock Road, the front of the railway station, the wharves, the housetops, and every available place, whence a view of the procession could be procured, was closely packed.  The Governor’s carriage left Government House at half-past four,—­Volunteer Cavalry furnishing the escort, and Volunteer Rifles, Engineers, and Cadets falling in behind,—­and amid farewell words and ringing cheers, moved slowly along the streets gay with flags and decorations.  At the dock gates the horses were taken out and men drew the carriage to the quay, where the Pretoria lay alongside.  Here the General, the Ministers, and other leading people, were assembled; and the 91st Regiment, which had been drawn up, presented arms, the Band played “God save the Queen,” and the Volunteer Artillery fired a salute as the Governor for the last time stepped off African soil.