Blue Shirt and Khaki: A Comparison

by James F. J. Archibald

Up to the time of the war but few Americans had lived in Pretoria, consequently the official duties of our consul to that place had not been onerous. When the war broke out, Mr. Macrum was the representative of our government; but, owing to what appeared to be an excess of desire to aid the burghers’ cause, he overstepped the diplomatic reserve and was recalled. Several South African officials told me that he had acted unwisely in endeavoring to do too much, and that had he been more discreet he might have been of material assistance to them. When Mr. Macrum was recalled, the Hon. Adelbert S. Hay, son of Secretary of State Hay, was appointed to fill the position that had now become a post of great importance. There was much speculation as to the new American consul’s ability to fill the place, and he was received with some misgivings by the statesmen of the Transvaal, for fear his sentiments were in favor of their enemy. But his years of training in affairs of state under his father, both at home and at the embassy in London, had made him equal to the task. In a very few days he proved himself to be a thorough diplomatist, and he came to be heartily liked by all the burghers who were brought in contact with him.

Mr. Hay had the sole charge of all British interests, as well as the care of the thousands of English prisoners who were in Pretoria, and of the transmission of all letters and moneys. All these duties he performed without arousing the slightest animosity on the part of the Boers. No American of any class ever went to the consulate on business, for a social call, or from idle curiosity, without receiving a hearty welcome from the consul. And to please unanimously the crowd of resident Americans, soldiers of fortune, correspondents, doctors, and ne’er-do-wells, was in itself enough to show his worth as a diplomatist. Mr. Gardner F. Coolidge, of Boston, was the vice-consul, and in cordial service and discreetness he proved to be made of the same stuff as his chief. They attended not only to their own official affairs, as well as the British interests, but they were often called upon to assist men of other nationalities, which they did as willingly as though they had nothing else to do.

Consul Hay and Vice-Consul Coolidge bidding good-by to Captain Slocum at Pretoria.

During the few weeks before the British occupation there was hardly a ripple of excitement among the people of Pretoria; in fact, there was more South African war talk in Washington and New York when I left the United States than I heard in the capital of the Republic most interested.

President Krüger was the center of all interest, although when any of the hundreds of foreigners that swarmed the place wanted anything, they went to Secretary Reitz, who seemed to have more power than even the President himself.

My last meeting with President Krüger was on the occasion of the presentation of the celebrated message of sympathy from 30,000 Philadelphia schoolboys. The voluminous document was delivered by James Smith, a New York American District Messenger boy, who was accompanied by one of the editors of a Philadelphia newspaper, Mr. Hugh Sutherland. This opportunity afforded an excellent chance to study the wonderful old man who has piloted the Cape Dutch through so many national storms.

If President Krüger had been a handsome, polished, and dignified man the world’s opinion of the Transvaal burgher would have been entirely different, for the descriptions of the typical Boer have had their origin in his personality. He is far from prepossessing; he is entirely lacking in polish or distinction of appearance. He wears a shabby frock coat that looks as though it had never been brushed or cleaned since the day it left a ready-made stock. His clothes, however, are not the most notable nor the most repellent characteristic of the head of the Transvaal government. Mr. Krüger smokes a pipe incessantly, and has an unpleasant habit of expectorating in any place that pleases his momentary fancy, and with very little accuracy of aim; even the front of his clothes shows signs of this habit. His eyes are inflamed, and are seemingly afflicted with some ophthalmic disease which causes the lids to show lines of red under the eyeball. His hair and beard are unkempt, except on state occasions and Sundays, when they are brushed to an oiled nicety. His hands are heavy, as though from great toil; but when he shook hands, he did so in the cordial manner of one who wished to show a heartfelt welcome to his guest.

Secretary of State Reitz arranged this meeting at which Jimmie Smith should present the message he had carried so far, and when the little party arrived at the President’s house, he was waiting to receive them in his library.

The house in which President Krüger lives is a little, low, unpretentious cottage, such as might be owned by an ordinarily prosperous mechanic or tradesman in a country village. It is a one-story building, with a wide veranda along the front. On either side of the entrance is a marble figure of a reclining lion, the gift of Barney Barnato a few years ago, when he wished to gain favor in order to further some of the great schemes which eventually were the direct cause of the downfall of the two South African republics.