Blue Shirt and Khaki: A Comparison

by James F. J. Archibald

When Lord Roberts occupied the capital and heard of that day’s work, he sent a large detail out to search for the plunder, and recovered a considerable amount, which he turned over to the use of his army.

For some time it appeared as though there might be serious trouble, and that the looting would be extended to shops and banks. Nearly all of these barricaded their doors and windows and placed a guard inside. A plot was hatched to break into the Union Bank, which was known to be British in sentiment; consequently all the bank officials spent several days and nights inside the building, armed with rifles, to protect the property. The attack was not made, however, probably because the fact of the guarding of the bank was known.

During all this time the burghers were retreating towards Middleburg, and by the first of June there were not half a dozen of the army left in the capital. Each day the British were expected to march in, but they did not come; and each day the situation became more serious, until finally a committee, appointed by a proclamation issued by General Botha, formed a special police corps for the protection of property until the British forces should arrive and take possession. The corps was composed of all the foreign consuls and their attachés, and such men as were not directly in the army. At the request of Mr. Hay I was sworn in and received a white band for my arm, on which was stenciled “P. C. No. 161,” and a pasteboard card imparting the information to all lawless persons that I was authorized to take them to jail. But an officer without the backing of the majesty of the law is not impressive, and in my one official act I have not yet decided who came out ahead—only the other fellow didn’t get the horse.

When the retreating burghers began to straggle through Pretoria towards the north, they commandeered any horses that seemed better than the ones they were riding. Cab horses and carriage horses were outspanned on the street, and the vehicles and harnesses left lying on the ground. Stables were entered and the best of the stock was taken for remounts. As a war proceeding this was perfectly legitimate, although it was rather hard on those who lost their horses. The American consul drove a fine pair of large Kentucky animals, which were probably the finest horses in the town, and he had considerable difficulty in keeping them. Several times the burghers began to unharness them, but a word telling them to whom they belonged stopped these orderly robbers in their attempt. When it became known that many unscrupulous persons were taking dishonest advantage of the fact that the commands were taking remounts and state horses under the name of the government, an order was issued against commandeering horses for any purpose.

After this state of unrest and terror had continued for three or four days without an appearance of the British, the excitement wore off, confidence was restored, and many of the burghers of General Botha’s command who had retreated now returned to the city.

The last Sunday before the British came dawned quiet and peaceful as a New England Sabbath; not a sign of war was to be seen; the streets were thronged with men, women, and children on their way to church to pray for their cause and their dead. The soldier laid aside his rifle and bandolier for the day, and not one was to be seen throughout the crowds which were moving towards their respective places of worship, while the bells rang summons and welcome. The day was warm enough for the women to wear white gowns, which served to make the many black ones the more noticeable. The children were stiff and starched in their Sunday cleanliness, and half the church-going crowd was composed of these little ones. In many a pew there was no father or brother, but only a sad-faced woman in sombre black.

The churches were crowded to the doors, and I tried two or three places before I finally gained admittance to the church opposite President Krüger’s house, where he had himself often occupied the pulpit. It was a typical country church, such as may be seen in hundreds of our smaller towns; the windows were open, and a soft breeze blew gently through the room. The people entered deeply into their worship, and the sadness that prevailed made it appear like a service over the dead who had fallen in battle. Many families were worshiping together for the last time, for on the morrow a battle was to be fought, and all who were going to continue the fight were to be separated that night from their loved ones.

Boers under heavy shell fire, awaiting British advance behind their defenses.