The British in Pretoria
[Illustration: One of the Guards at Pretoria.]
On the morning of the fourth of June, 1900, the British troops turned
their guns on Pretoria, after hundreds of miles of weary marching,
enlivened with only a few fights to break the monotony of the work.
There was not much defense, as it had been decided that there should be
no opposition to the enemy’s entrance; but as many of the burghers had
returned over Sunday, and the panic of a few days before had vanished,
they were taking away more stores than they had at first intended.
Train-loads of troops and refugees were leaving Pretoria every hour;
therefore General De la Rey, with a rear guard, was detailed to
obstruct the advance as long as possible, to cover the retreat that was
then being made in an orderly manner. He had but fifteen or eighteen
hundred men to oppose many thousands, but as he had the advantage of
the positions, and as the English commander did not know whether the
forts were occupied and armed, he was able to hold off the advance all
day.
The fighting consisted almost entirely of an artillery bombardment by
the British naval guns until noon, when the right of the Boer line was
heavily engaged, and the rifle and machine-gun fire became very fast.
The burghers had but six guns with which to oppose the advance, and
they were small field pieces that could not be put into action until
the enemy advanced almost within rifle range. A little before dark the
fighting was heavy all along the line, and then the British became
fully convinced that there would be a determined defense at Pretoria.
They were very much disappointed when they discovered that the burghers
had waived the defense and had saved themselves for a struggle under
other conditions. All day long two of the guns shelled one of the forts
that had long since been abandoned, but as it was an advantageous
position from which to witness the fighting, some of the townspeople
had gone up there in the forenoon. They were seen by the British, and
were naturally mistaken for soldiers, consequently they were subjected
to a harmless shell fire. In the afternoon the invaders brought a large
number of their guns into action, and the shells flew thick and fast
over our position, occasionally striking and exploding at the crest
under which we were lying. Considering the number of shells, however,
very little damage was done.
[Illustration: General De la Rey and a group of his burghers while
awaiting a British attack.]
All through the day the two wings of Lord Roberts’s army kept extending
farther around the town, and just before dark the retreat from the
defenses began. As the entire force of burghers was compelled to take
one narrow road between the hills, this was crowded with horsemen, each
man trying to pass the others, although with no great excitement. There
was no talking in the procession; the men rode along looking like an
army of spirits in the white clouds of dust. Mingled with the horsemen
were men on bicycles, whose clothing showed that they had taken no part
in the campaign; men on foot, who had come out to witness the fight,
and even men in wagons. Occasionally a gun rumbled along. All were
bent on getting into Pretoria as soon as possible. Once there, however,
they seemed in no hurry to leave, many remaining until the next
morning, after the British had actually entered the town.
As I rode into Pretoria there were knots of people at every gatepost
and in every doorway, watching the retreating burghers, bidding good-by
to their friends, and asking all sorts of questions regarding the
advancing army.
I stopped at the Artillery Barracks, a fine large brick building,
and there saw Major Erasmus, a member of one of the famous fighting
families of the war; apparently he had not inherited the fighting
spirit, for he had taken off his bandolier, and he told me that he
was going to quit. Around him were a few more of the same mind, and
sitting on a horse near by was an old burgher talking to them in Dutch.
It needed no knowledge of the language to apprehend his meaning, for
he was evidently speaking with biting sarcasm, and its effect was
plainly seen in the faces of his hearers. Many others remained in
Pretoria and allowed themselves to be taken, afterwards taking the
oath of neutrality. Only those who wished to fight it out went on. The
faint-hearted ones who stayed behind were snubbed by all the women-folk
who knew them, and there is no doubt that many who broke their oath of
neutrality and again took to the field did so in order to escape the
taunts of the patriotic women.
[Illustration: Lord Roberts’s advance bodyguard approaching Pretoria.]
[Illustration: British guns captured by the Boers.]
At the Artillery Barracks were all of the British guns that had been
captured by the Boers, but which they could not use. None of them was
destroyed, however, and eventually they again fell into the hands of
the English. In a few cases the breech block was broken, but aside from
that they were in as good condition as on the day they were taken. It
seems strange that the Boers should have allowed them to go back to the
enemy uninjured after the battling which the possession of them had
cost; but one commandant said that he could not see why they should
uselessly destroy property.
It was said that a couple of English officers with a few men entered
Pretoria that night, but I did not see them. The first of the enemy
that I saw was an advance body next day, sent in to occupy the town
and to post a guard on all public buildings. I heard that Lord Roberts
and his staff were coming, and I rode out about a mile to meet them.
I then first beheld that wonderful leader, who is certainly one of
the greatest generals of modern times. His staff was preceded by an
advance bodyguard of about fifty men; twenty men rode on either side
of the road, flanking his staff by about one hundred yards. The staff
was so large that it looked like a regiment in itself. At the head I
recognized Lord Roberts, a small man on a large horse, sitting in his
saddle as though pretty well worn out by work. He was bundled up in a
khaki overcoat, as the morning was very cold. By his side rode Lord
Kitchener on a powerful white horse, the only white one in the staff.
That horse must have been a shining mark in action, but a little detail
of that sort would not trouble a man of Kitchener’s stamp.
[Illustration: Lord Roberts and staff approaching Pretoria (Lord
Kitchener is on the white horse, Lord Roberts is the first leading
figure at the right).]
Immediately behind the field marshal and his chief of staff rode
two Indian native servants, familiar figures in all Lord Roberts’s
campaign, for he never travels without them. It is said that one of
them saved his chief’s life in India, and that he is now retained in
his service forever.
Lord Roberts and his staff rode into the railway station, where they
dismounted and made arrangements for the formal entry and occupation,
which was to occur that afternoon. The hour set was two o’clock, but it
was twenty minutes past that hour when the flag was raised. The square
had been cleared long before that by a battalion of the Guards, and
finally the field marshal and his staff rode in and took a position
just opposite the entrance to the state building. Immediately after
his entry the drums and fifes and a few pieces of brass played the
national anthem, and every one saluted, but no flag was to be seen at
that moment. Finally a murmur started and circulated throughout the
ranks and the crowd. “There it is!” exclaimed some one. “Where?” asked
another. “On the staff; it’s up.” “No, that can’t be.” “Yes, it really
is.” And it was.
By looking very carefully we could discern a little something looking
like a stiff, colored table mat at the top of the high mast, but it was
not recognizable as the Union Jack. It was afterwards learned that this
little flag was made by Lady Roberts, and that as a matter of sentiment
Lord Roberts had caused it to be raised. But that bit of sentiment had
robbed the occasion of all the patriotic enthusiasm that would have
been awakened by the sight of a big, magnificent banner. The next day
a fifteen-foot Union Jack was hoisted, and the men who operated the
moving-picture apparatus waited until the second day before taking the
pictures of the raising of the British flag over the Transvaal which
were to be shown in the London theatres.
[Illustration: Lord Roberts and Lord Kitchener with staff entering
Pretoria at the railway station, June 5, 1900. The two locomotives on
the right, with Boer engineers, were started immediately afterwards in
an attempt to escape to the Boer lines.]
I was reminded of General Shafter’s anxiety at Santiago on the morning
of July 17th, when he sent from one end of his army corps to another to
find a flag large enough to raise over the palace, and of how pleased
he was when one sufficiently large was finally found. He said that day
that the affair would not be a success unless the flag was large enough
to show that it was waving.
When the British troops entered Pretoria, their first thought was for
their unfortunate brother officers who were imprisoned there, and
their first questions were regarding them, as they feared they had
been removed by the Boers. While the preparations were being made for
the flag-raising, the imprisoned officers were released, and came down
town for the first time since their arrival. Many happy greetings were
exchanged, some of them showing an affection betokening relationship.
They were almost the only ones who did any cheering that day, as the
soldiers were too worn out and the townspeople were too sad.
As soon as the flag was raised the march past was begun, and thousands
of the magnificent-looking troops passed in review before Lord Roberts.
The British soldiers made a fine show, although they were evidently
pretty well worn out; their horses, too, were in bad condition. The
Colonials and the Gordon Highlanders were the most attractive part of
the review and made the best showing. The naval guns were drawn by many
spans of oxen, and looked tremendously business-like. Under ordinary
conditions the spectacle would have been a sight to fill a spectator
with enthusiasm and admiration; but, somehow, the scene seemed more an
occasion of sadness, awakening admiration and pity for that little
band of men who had marched out into the night only a few hours before.
An American business man of Pretoria watched the regiments tramp past,
and then remarked, “Well, I think the best way for the Boers to win out
is to come back to-day and march in review before this army. They would
not need to fight any more, for this whole lot would die of shame.”
There was not a very large crowd to witness the occupation, considering
the number of people in the city, for very few of the Boer sympathizers
came out, and in most cases the women went into their houses, closing
the front doors and windows tightly, and many did not open their
houses until they were forced to come out to attend to their household
marketing. Along the verandas of the Grand Hotel and in the street in
front of the hotel a few ladies were to be seen, but except for these
the crowd was composed of men, mostly blacks. This conspicuous absence
of the women served to show the bitter feeling and intense hatred that
prevailed among the people.
The Union Bank, however, a British institution, swung out two large
Union Jacks in honor of the event.
While the review was passing, a corporal’s guard brought in two
Boer prisoners, who were marched into the square, awaiting whatever
disposition was to be made of them. One was a man about fifty, the
other a boy about nine years old, in short trousers; but the little
fellow had a rifle, and was held as a prisoner of war. As they stood
there I could not but wonder what those British soldiers thought of
such a sight.
While the review was going on, I stood near the Burgomaster of
Pretoria, a man whom I had met with General Botha and Secretary Reitz.
He was a man who had held the highest municipal office under the Boer
government, but now he was fawning upon a major of staff, telling him
that he had always hated the Dutch government and everything connected
with it. To gain favor in the eyes of his new masters, he blackguarded
all the men who had made him what he was. It did not seem possible that
this pitiful personage could be the same man who a few days before was
an official of the Boer government.
As soon as the review was dismissed, officers and men began to explore
the town and to fill their pockets with souvenirs. Stamps and coins
were especially sought after, while copies of the extra _Volkstein_,
issued the night before, with news of Johannesburg’s fall and of the
coming battle, were sold for five pounds.
Although there was not much chance to get liquor, the men found what
they wanted, but there was a surprising absence of drunkenness. To my
surprise and admiration, I saw only one drunken soldier in that entire
army after the occupation.
[Illustration: Gordon Highlanders entering Pretoria, June 5, 1900.]
[Illustration: Types of the crowd who watched the British entry.]
During the first few days of the occupation Lord Roberts started the
machinery of his wonderful government, and in a very short time
everything was running smoothly. All stores and storehouses were put
under guard and the contents commandeered for military use; although,
when the stock was the property of private individuals, a good price
was paid for it. If the burghers had had sufficient presence of mind
or the inclination to destroy all the stores in Pretoria, the army
under Lord Roberts would have been not only seriously embarrassed,
but in a very critical condition. As it was, a sufficient quantity of
Boer rations was left to keep the British going until the railroad was
opened. In one building enough forage had been left by the Boers to
keep the stock supplied until more could arrive. A single match would
have prevented this, but one of the Boer commandants said regarding it,
“Oh, it would be such a wanton destruction of property!” They preferred
to allow it all to fall into the hands of their enemies than to burn
it. If they had destroyed it the horses would have had practically
nothing to eat, and all operations would necessarily have been stopped.
A corps of correspondents came in with Roberts’s army, and they were
all very anxious to hear of the events that had occurred on the Boer
side. Mr. Dinwiddie, of _Harper’s Weekly_, was one of the first in
Pretoria; he had but recently come over from the Philippines, where
he had been with General Lawton, but he had seen all the British
advance since Bloemfontein. I had last seen him during the Cuban
campaign. Another veteran of the Santiago campaign was Mr. Atkins, of
the Manchester _Guardian_. The famous war correspondent, Mr. Bennett
Burleigh, was also among the first to arrive. He is one of the oldest
in the profession, and before he began writing he fought with the
Confederacy during our Civil War. Mr. Barnes and Mr. Jenkins were two
more of the American correspondents, although they were representing
English papers.
Some of the wagons that were used by the correspondents and the
_attachés_ were grotesque affairs. One of them was a pie-wagon, with a
door in the back; its possessor had cut a hole in the roof and run a
stovepipe out so that he could cook in any kind of weather. There were
a good many grocers’ wagons, but the most common conveyance was the
two-wheeled Cape cart.
As soon as Lord Roberts took possession, he issued a conciliatory
proclamation, telling the burghers who wished to lay down their arms
and take the oath binding them to neutrality that they would not be
made prisoners of war. A number availed themselves of this offer, and
most of them kept their promises; but subsequent events made many of
them take up arms again.
The execution of young Cordua for conspiracy did much to help the Boer
cause by reviving fainting spirits with the spur of new indignation.
Everyone in Pretoria knew that there had been no plot whatever, and
that the rumors of the supposed conspiracy had been spread by the
agents of the British government. The young man was known to be
simple-minded, and therefore was not responsible for his actions, but
his death was a great stimulus to those fighting for the Boer cause.
The proclamation regarding the burning and destroying of all farms in
the vicinity of a railroad or telegraph line that was cut also sent
many men back into the field and made many new recruits. No matter
how loyal a feeling a farmer might have towards the English, he could
not prevent some one from coming down from the hills in the night and
blowing up the tracks or bridges somewhere within ten miles of his
home; but if this happened his house was burned, and almost invariably
the burghers who were thus deprived of their homesteads went on
commando to stay to the bitter end.
One proclamation was issued compelling every man and boy to register
his presence in Pretoria; and another, ordering that all firearms of
every description be turned in to the provost marshal; this included
sporting rifles, shotguns, gallery rifles, and, in fact, every arm that
called for powder. It was not permitted to any one to ride or drive a
horse, or ride a bicycle, without having obtained a special permit.
Most of these orders were quite necessary and did no one any great
harm. At times the restriction was troublesome, but that was all; and,
upon the whole, considering the fact that the town was under military
rule, the British government was lenient.
The women of Pretoria were intensely bitter against the British, and
did not scruple to show it. For several days not one was seen on
the streets. After a time they came out of their houses, but very
seldom would they have anything to say to the invaders. They showed
the same spirit said to have been shown by our colonial women towards
the British, the same that the women of the Southern States showed
towards the Northern soldiers, and the same that the French women felt
against the Germans. In their hearts was bitter hatred, but politeness
and gentle breeding toned their actions to suavity that was sometimes
mistaken for weakness by a race that has never been noted for its
subtle sense of discrimination.
Lord Roberts invited Mrs. Botha to dinner one night, soon after the
occupation of Pretoria, and she accepted the invitation. Immediately
the rumor was spread throughout the army, and was construed by the
British to mean that General Botha was going to surrender at once, and
that his wife was going to influence him to do so. On the contrary,
Mrs. Botha told me that if he did surrender as long as there was a
possible chance to fight, she would never speak to him again. Her
eyes flashed and her manner was very far from that of a woman who
was weakening because she had dined with the commander-in-chief. She
obviously had her reasons for doing it, and there is no doubt that
General Botha heard all that went on from herself the next morning. The
system of communication between the burghers in the field and their
families was facile and well conducted, and the women kept the men
informed of every move of the British.
One afternoon I was riding along the streets of Pretoria with an
English officer, and we passed General Botha’s little son. I pointed
him out to my companion, who pulled up to talk with him. He was a boy
of seven or eight, bright and good looking. The officer asked him what
he thought of the British soldiers now that he had seen them.
“Oh, they’re all right,” he answered evasively.
“Well, from now on you will live under the British flag,” said the
officer, trying to tease him in a good-natured way.
“Perhaps,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.
“And you will become just as much an Englishman as any of us, and like
it,” continued the officer.
In an instant all the boy’s evasiveness was gone; his fists clenched
and his head came up sharply.
“I never will be English!” he exclaimed vehemently. “I hate you all!
You may make us live under that flag, but you’ll never make us like
it--never!” And he stamped his foot to emphasize his tirade against the
enemies who had driven his father away. This is the spirit shown on
every side in the Transvaal, the Orange Free State, and even in Cape
Colony itself. The people seem contented enough until they are stirred,
and then their liberty-loving blood makes them speak their real feeling.
[Illustration: Lord Kitchener bidding good-by to the foreign attachés
after the capture of Pretoria.]
A few days after the occupation a pretty young woman, tastefully
dressed in a white summer gown, appeared on the street with a large
bow of the national colors, red, white, blue, and green, pinned on
her shoulder. An officer stopped her and told her to take it off,
but she looked at him contemptuously and turned away. He stopped her
again, and finally removed the colors himself. The young lady made no
resistance, but passed on. Within half an hour she was out with another
equally large bow of the colors. Again it was taken away from her, and
again she put on another knot of ribbons. The matter was brought to
the attention of the military governor, and she was told that if it
happened again she would be put in jail; but it did happen again just
as fast as she could get the ribbon to put on. Whether she was arrested
or not I never knew, but I saw her on the street several days later
still wearing the colors of her country.
For some days before the British arrived, the prices in Pretoria
for provisions of all kinds had advanced to unheard-of figures.
There seemed to be a sufficient quantity of everything, except white
flour; but those who had stock on hand were making the best of their
opportunity. The flour seemed to have been “cornered” by the bakers,
for they were all furnishing bread regularly, and were charging from
fifteen to twenty-five cents a loaf, according to the size. This was
considered very cheap in comparison with the price asked for a sack
of flour a few days before, the lowest price then being five pounds.
“Mealies,” or common corn, sold at thirty to sixty shillings unground,
the regular price being six or eight shillings. As this corn was used
only to feed animals it made the expense of keeping a horse rather
high. Up to this time the English have not discovered the value of
Indian corn as a food product, although many attempts have been made
to introduce it into England. There was an abundance of canned goods
that sold at a fairly reasonable price, and also plenty of fresh beef,
although it was of the trek-ox variety, and almost impossible to eat.
When the British army entered the capital, with over forty thousand
hungry men, looking for anything as a change from the regular ration,
prices jumped higher still, and the stocks in the various stores
speedily vanished. One of the first official acts of the new government
was to place a guard over the various provision stores, allowing no one
to buy without an order from one in authority. This was done to prevent
some of the officers’ messes from buying up everything in sight.
Fresh vegetables were exceedingly scarce, although very early in the
mornings some came in from the country, and it was always a case of the
“early bird” as to who was fortunate enough to get hold of them. Butter
was a greater luxury than champagne, and if any was secured a dinner
party was sure to follow.
“Come up and dine with me to-night; I’ve got some butter,” was the
strongest invitation that could be issued, and one that was never
refused.
Consul Hay kept many men and women from going hungry, for he had laid
in a large stock of provisions against the expected siege of Pretoria;
consequently he had plenty of food stuffs to spare, and any one who
was known to be needy was welcome to a share. He also stabled several
horses for their owners when there was absolutely no forage to be
bought at any price.
When prices had reached an impossible mark, Lord Roberts took the
matter in hand and issued a proclamation giving a list of all necessary
articles and the legal prices to be charged for them, and any one
asking more was liable to severe punishment. Some found a way to evade
the order by giving short weight; but a few days later the first supply
train came in from the southern base of supplies, and then prices
resumed their natural scale.
It was an irremediable military blunder for the retreating burghers not
to destroy all supplies and forage in Pretoria. Even as it was, Lord
Roberts had made three attempts to advance his main force, and each
time was compelled to retire, not because of the force of the Boers
opposing him, but because of his inability to get rations up to his
troops.
It was not a glorious entry, and the occupation was not so satisfactory
to the British themselves that the word “Pretoria” on the regimental
standards will stir a soldier’s throb for many years to come. Some
day the blunders will be forgotten, the human wrongs will grow dim in
distance, and only the glory of effort and the benefit to civilization
will be thought of; but not until then will the British be proud of
their conquest.
The burghers in this the first city of their fair land are
conscientious and honest; they know they have the right on their side,
and they are willing to pray and die for it. The English do not
understand these plain folk as we would, for we have the same sort of
men and women. Instead of trying to understand them, the English are
prone to ridicule them.
Their devotion to the faith in which they believe has been a special
target for this ridicule, although I never saw the time when they made
that devotion obnoxious to even the lowest unbeliever. They worship in
their own way, believe in their own creed, which is very like that of
the great majority of the people of the United States. When I listened
to the Dutch pastor preach that last sermon before the British entered
Pretoria, I heard nothing that could offend any one; and yet, less
than two weeks later, at my own table, in the presence of half a dozen
British officers, an English chaplain told us as a great joke, over
his brandy and soda, that he had heard of a sermon that was preached
exhorting the Boers to fight, and that he had informed the provost
marshal and had the Dutch pastor thrown into jail. After a moment’s
pause he added, “I occupied his pulpit myself last Sunday.”
“Well,” said one of the British officers, “that is a method of getting
a pulpit that I never heard of before.”
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not
changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced
quotation marks retained.
Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.
The captions of illustrations were printed in italics. To improve
readability, those italics are not indicated in the Plain Text version
of this eBook. Italics elsewhere are indicated by _underscores_.