Notwithstanding, people were so excited in regard to the question, and it was so entirely a case of “Give a dog a bad name,” that even the appointment of an Imperial Commission to report on the matter failed to bring them to anything approaching an impartial survey.  Miss Hobhouse’s report had excited an emotion only comparable to the publication of Mrs. Beecher Stowe’s famous novel, “Uncle Tom’s Cabin.”

Miss Hobhouse came to South Africa inspired by the most generous motives, but her lack of knowledge of the conditions of existence common to everyone in that country prevented her from forming a true opinion as to the real hardship of what she was called upon to witness.  Her own interpretations of the difficulties and discomforts which she found herself obliged to face proved that she had not realised what South Africa really was.  Her horror at the sight of a snake in one of the tents she visited could only evoke a smile from those who had lived for some time in that country, as a visitor of that particular kind was possible even in the suburbs of Cape Town, and certainly offered nothing wonderful in a tent on the high veldt.  The same remark can be applied to the hotels, which Miss Hobhouse described as something quite ghastly.  Everyone who knew what South Africa really was could only agree with her that the miserable places there were anything but pleasant residences, but the fuss which she made as to these trivial details could only make one sceptical as to the genuineness of the other scenes which she described at such length.  No one who had had occasion to watch the development of the war or the circumstances which had preceded it could bring himself to believe with her that the British Government was guilty of premeditated cruelty.

Of course, it was quite dreadful for those who had been taken to the Concentration Camps to find themselves detained there against their will, but at the same time, as I have already remarked, the question remains as to what these people would have done had they been left absolutely unprotected and unprovided for among the remnants of what had once been their homes.  It was certain that Miss Hobhouse’s pamphlet revealed a parlous state of things, but did she realise that wood, blankets, linen and food were not things which could be transported with the quickness that those responsible heartily desired?  Did she remember that the British troops also had to do without the most elementary comforts, in spite of all the things which were constantly being sent from home for the benefit of the field forces?  Both had in South Africa two enemies in common that could not be subdued—­distance and difficulty of communication.  With but a single line of railway, which half the time was cut in one place or another, it was but natural that the Concentration Camps were deprived of a good many things which those who were compelled to live within their limits would, under different circumstances or conditions, have had as a matter of course.