Many illegal acts were performed under martial law; of some a mention was made in the Cape Town Parliament; these, therefore, do not admit of doubt. For instance, as Mr. Neethling said in the Legislative Council, a man of seventy was sent down from Paarl to Beaufort West without being allowed to say good-bye to his wife, who was left behind without means of support. Their house was searched for papers, but without result, and the man—a member of the Afrikander Bond—was sent back, after eighteen months’ deportation, without any charge having been made against him. He was an auctioneer and shipping agent, and during his absence his business was annexed by a rival. One British Colonial, who held office at Stellenbosch, said to one family, without even making an inquiry as to their conduct, “You are rebels and I will take your mules”—which was done. The mules were afterwards sold to the Commissariat Department by the man who had commandeered them. Is it a matter of astonishment, therefore, that many people felt sore and bitter at all that they had undergone and were going through?
The administration of martial law in the country districts was absolutely deplorable; but when one examines minutely the circumstances of the cases of injustice about which one could have no doubt, it always emerged that these never proceeded from British officers, who, on the contrary, wherever they found themselves in command, invariably acted with humanity. The great mistake of the military authorities was that they had far too much confidence in the Volunteer Corps and those members of it who were only anxious to make money out of existing circumstances. Unfortunately, certain officers in command of the different corps were extreme Jingoes, and this distorted their whole outlook. People said at the time of the war that some districts of Cape Colony had been turned into hells; some things, in truth, called for strong comment. No words could be energetic enough to describe the manner in which martial law had been administered—in the district of Graaf Reinet, for instance. The commandants—this justice must be rendered to them—generally meant well, but, unfortunately, they were assisted by men of less stable character as intelligence officers. These, in their turn, unwisely without due inquiry, engaged subordinates, upon whom they relied for their information. Graaf Reinet people had had to put up with something akin to the Spanish Inquisition. Men there were afraid to speak for fear of espionage, the most innocent remarks were distorted by spies recruited from an uncertain section of the community. A cattle inspector was deported without trial; in consequence, the Secretary for Agriculture decided not to employ him again; at Graaf Reinet a Colonial intelligence officer constantly declared in public that it was his intention to drive the people into rebellion; and so instances could be multiplied.
The rebellion was not due to martial law. In Graaf Reinet the prison was frequently so crowded, often by men who did not in the least know why, that no more sleeping accommodation could be found in it. People were in durance vile because they would not join the town guard or defence force. So overcrowded the prison became that many persons contracted disease during their incarceration.