The Jingo papers, or rather those belonging to the association mentioned before, waxed bolder and bolder, as they saw the evident danger of the State. The Johannesburg papers, antagonistic to the Government, seemed to think that the Government would be unable to punish them now or hereafter, and preached almost open sedition; and a certain Pretoria paper was by no means far behind in this respect.
The rebels were encouraged to persevere, and those who refused to join the malcontents, were incited to join. The Government was abused and reviled more than before. According to these papers, the chances of the Boers to defend themselves were nil; while the success of the invaders and rebels was assured. With what courage these papers spoke up now, for they rightly considered that the Government had no time to waste looking after them, or punishing sedition preached in their columns.
But what a change came over these papers when Jameson was in prison with his officers and men and the Reform Committee had surrendered unconditionally? Now there was no abuse. Now the dirty Boers were heard of no more. But everything was ‘our Government,’ ‘our Burghers,’ the ‘powerholders,’ all said and written in a most respectful manner; while in the place of the threats uttered a few days before, now nothing was heard but a plea for mercy. The papers were filled with articles pointing out to the Government what grand and unprecedented opportunities of displaying their wonted mercy presented itself. Truly it was a sudden and even ludicrous change of face, causing many a smile of amusement on the face of the impartial observer. But this amiability did not last long. As soon as things quieted down, and the anger of the Burghers had subsided, these cowardly libellers resumed their dirty work, as we shall have occasion to observe farther on. Those who happened to be in Pretoria when the news arrived on the Monday that Jameson was invading the country at the head of eight hundred Chartered troopers, will remember how unexpected and hardly credited the news was. It was so unexpected, and even improbable, that few could be found to believe the news—even the Government, it is said, would not believe the news wired to them from their own officials at Marico—that ‘Jameson was marching on to Johannesburg, and that he refused to turn back.’ The Government wired for confirmation of the news; and it was so definitely confirmed that the authorities were forced to believe it and take the necessary action.
And now the grand military system of the country was displayed to full advantage. On the Monday afternoon information was received of the invasion. Every Burgher was living peacefully and unsuspectingly on his farm, without the least idea that his country was in danger, or that a foreign foe had already invaded the country. And yet, forty hours after the information was received at Pretoria, a commando had already intercepted Jameson’s force, and had forced him to turn from his contemplated course, and in three days he was surrounded and compelled to surrender ignominiously.
Even this was eclipsed by the further mobilisation of the Burghers, for, before the week was ended, eight thousand Burghers were in the neighbourhood of Johannesburg awaiting the orders of the Commandant-General to attack, in case the rebellion was pushed, while in and around Pretoria a like number or more were encamped.
The excitement for the next few days was intense; every moment seemed fraught with the gravest results. News from the seat of war was anxiously awaited. The office of The Press, which seemed to be the best informed of what was going on, was besieged day and night for news. The wildest reports were flying around, and when reliable news did come, one hardly knew whether to believe it or not.
An amusing incident was noticed during the day when news from Krugersdorp was most intensely desired.
Some boys, who seemed to have grasped the situation with juvenile sagacity, got hold of a pile of blank sheets of paper of the size and shape generally used by newspapers on which to issue special and extraordinary telegrams during the day. These special telegrams were eagerly awaited, and even fought for, by the public during these days of excitement. These youngsters had noticed this, and with their blank sheets of paper in their hand, walked about à la newspaper boys, shouting, ‘News from the war. One hundred people killed. Great slaughter amongst the enemy,’ or anything else they could think of to excite the people.
To give a single instance of the result. A dignified, portly and very conscious young man was strolling down Church Street. But, in spite of his dignity, black suit, shining boots, and bell topper hat, even he forgot himself sufficiently for a moment to eagerly run after one of these boys and snatch one of these supposed special telegrams from him. Several bystanders, who had already been caught themselves by the youngsters, were watching the scene with amusement. The dignified young man, after having secured the much-desired telegram (?), walked composedly to one side of the sidewalk, settled his eyeglasses carefully on his nose, and prepared to read the startling news, as declared by the amateur newspaper boys. Those who were watching the party in question saw a look of astonishment upon the expressive countenance of the Pretoria dude, followed by an expression of intense disgust and anger, as, on looking after the laughing youngsters, he saw them put their hands in front of their noses in a most impressive manner. Of course everybody laughed, while the young man looked as if he would like to punish the boys with his walking-stick. But, on second thoughts, he seemed to think that it would be too undignified, and instead, walked away, expressing his disgust at the laughter of the bystanders by the haughty erectness of his head.
While everybody was anxious and excited, the Government seemed never to lose the calm even tenor of its ways. Amidst the greatest danger and anxiety, the President and Commandant-General never for a single moment lost confidence in their ability to uphold their position, or to defend their country against the threatening danger.