This, at least, the community did understand, that they were horribly overtaxed; that those things which might be their salvation, and are necessary conditions for industrial prosperity—­railways, cheap living, consistent and fair government—­were not theirs.  The President visited Johannesburg with the object of giving the assurance that railways would be built.  He addressed a crowd of many thousands of people from a platform at the Wanderers’ Club pavilion.  He did not conceal his suspicions of the people, and his attempts to conceal his dislike were transparent and instantly detected, the result being that there was no harmony between his Honour and the people of Johannesburg.  Later in the evening the crowd, which had hourly become larger and more and more excited and dissatisfied, surrounded the house which the President was occupying, and, without desire to effect any violence, but by simple pressure of numbers, swept in the railings and pillars which enclosed the house.  Most fortunately the Chief of Police had withdrawn all the Boer members of the force, and the crowd, to their surprise, were held back by Colonial, English, and Irish ‘bobbies.’  This was probably the only thing that prevented a very serious culmination.  As it was, some excited individuals pulled down the Transvaal flag from the Government buildings, tore it in shreds and trampled it under foot.  The incident should have been ignored under the exceptionally trying conditions of the time, but the Government determined to make much of it.  Some arrests were effected, and men thrown into prison.  Bail was refused; in fact, ‘martyrs’ were made, and the incident became indelibly stamped on the memory of both Boer and Uitlander.  The President vowed that he would never visit the place again, and without doubt made use of his experience to consolidate the feeling of his burghers against the Uitlanders.

At a meeting of burghers several months after this incident, he referred to the agitation and constant complaining of the Uitlanders, and stated that they had only themselves to thank for all their troubles, and yet they would blame the Government.  He then proceeded to entertain his hearers with one of the inevitable illustrations from life in the lower animal kingdom.  ‘They remind me,’ said his Honour, ’of the old baboon that is chained up in my yard.  When he burnt his tail in the Kaffir’s fire the other day, he jumped round and bit me, and that just after I had been feeding him.’  For five years Mr. Kruger was as good as his word.  He would not even pass through Johannesburg when convenience suggested his doing so, but made circuits by road to avoid the place of detestation.  It was on one of these visits to Krugersdorp, a township within the Witwatersrand Fields, twenty miles from Johannesburg, that the President, appreciating the fact that besides his beloved burghers there might, owing to the proximity of the fields, be some unregenerate aliens present, commenced his address as follows:  ‘Burghers,