Het welkom op mijn website vertelt in grote trekken hoe mijn leven tot nu toe (maart 2013) is verlopen. Opmerkelijk is dat ik pas als 23-jarige in 1959 slaagde voor het examen HBS-A. Van 1951 had ik gewerkt, in de avonduren gestudeerd, anderhalf jaar in militaire dienst vertoefd. In het najaar van 1957, een half jaar nadat ik uit dienst was afgezwaaid, begon ik de studie HBS-A aan het particuliere instituut Gesto in Alkmaar. Elke zaterdagmiddag van 13.00 tot 20.30 uur in de schoolbanken. Enkele van de examenopgaven heb ik bewaard. Hier komt de opgave Engels-Nederlands.
THE LAST YEARS OF CECIL RHODES
The war was almost over and the whole of South Africa was practically under the British flag. Rhodes had worked for this by peaceful means, and in the end he had failed. The war had now brought it about, but at a fearful cost, and there was much bitterness. The Union of South Africa had become possible, but Rhodes knew that a true union of the two races would take time to achieve, and that he would not live to see it.
The heart-disease from which he was suffering was to give him but two years more - years of feverish activity constantly interrupted by ill-health. His mind still worked at full power, but the dynamo drove a worn-out machine.
He was able to pay some visits to the north, and was well enough to enjoy travelling about, visiting his farms and his mines, talking to the settlers and making a few speeches. The doctors had told him he must rest his overstrained heart, but in his holidays he would ride as much as forty miles in a day, and walk another seven or eight with his gun.
He went to England once more in 1901. The heart specialist he saw in London warned him that unless he gave up all his work at once, he could not live more than a few months, and he yielded so far as to spend August and September in Scotland with a few of his best friends. He returned to South Africa and retired to his cottage at Muizenberg, where he breathed more easily in the sea breeze.
After March 9th he never rose from bed. But as he layed and gasped for breath through the heat of the Cape summer, his thoughts turned more and more to England. He had such a longing for home that to please him a cabin was reserved in the mail-boat sailing on March 26th. On the 25th Kitchener sent him a telegram with the news that the Boers had asked for a conference. The next day, in the afternoon, he died.