The little verandah of
the Executive Mansion--a pompous name for the small, one-storey
cottage--was the President's favourite resting and working place during
the day. Just as in the days of peace he sat there in a big armchair,
discussing politics with groups of his countrymen, so while the war was in
progress he was seated there pondering the grave subjects of the time. The
countrymen who could always be observed with him at almost any time of the
day were missing. They were at the front. Occasionally two or three old
Boers could be seen chatting with him behind Barnato's marble lions, but
invariably they had bandoliers around their bodies and rifles across their
knees. Few of the old Boers who knew the President intimately returned
from the front on leaves-of-absence unless they called on him to explain
to him the tide and progress of the war.
According to his own declaration his health was as good as it ever was,
although the war added many burdens to his life. Although he was
seventy-five years old he declared he was as sprightly as he was twenty
years before, and he seemed to have the energy and vitality of a man of
forty. The reports that his mind was affected were cruel hoaxes which had
not the slightest foundation of fact. The only matter concerning which he
worried was his eyesight, which had been growing weaker steadily for five
years. That misfortune alone prevented him from accompanying his burghers
to the front and sharing their burdens with them, and he frequently
expressed his disappointment that he was unable to engage more actively in
the defence of his country.
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