Now, in consequence of the brutal disregard of a world-appreciated agreement, the Boers—in many ways men of fine character—were placing themselves beneath contempt. Their conduct also to the loyalists and non-belligerents was also causing exasperation.
The ministers of all denominations—Wesleyan, Presbyterian, Baptist, Congregational, and Jewish—all united in condemning the Boer Government and its methods. They were especially scandalised at the inhumanity of the Dutch commandoes, who intermittently poured shells not only into the heart of the town, but into the suburbs, where women and children were known to congregate, while leaving for the most part unmolested the forts occupied by the citizen-soldiers. Homes were destroyed mothers and children stricken down, and some killed. These might have been looked upon as the accidents of war had it not been confessed in Boer papers that such acts were deliberately committed and vaunted.
Spasmodic bombardment took place during the evening of the 24th, and continued through the night, striking some buildings—the hospital and other defenceless positions—and maiming a woman and her child. Another child was killed. Profound admiration was expressed by all in the achievements of “Long Cecil,” and the utility of the new long-range weapon was highly appreciated. Indeed, Mr. Rhodes viewed this Kimberley masterpiece with quite a paternal eye, and his pleasure in firing it was considerable.
Enough could not be said of the splendid valour and pertinacity of the townspeople, who co-operated in the warlike proceedings as though they had been to the manner born. Though the fortification belt was some twelve miles in circumference, at all points it was protected by these amateurs of the sword, who, under no military obligations whatever till sworn in on the immediate emergency, rose to the occasion with a chivalric warmth that was as perfectly amazing as it was admirable. Devotion to the Sovereign Lady who rules the Empire was never more steadfastly shown and more ardently maintained.
The zeal and the “go” of the Cape Police was notable. Among the most prominent of the corps were Colonel Robinson, gallant Major Elliot and Major Ayliff (wounded on December 3), who was brave as he was tactful. Perpetually useful and conspicuously gallant were Captains Colvin, Crozier, White, and Cummings. Their duties, most difficult, were almost interminable.
Life was monotonous in the extreme. From the town it was possible on clear days to view the Modder River balloon, and the occasional sight of it afforded a stimulus to the drooping spirits of the inhabitants. Its rotund form floating so peacefully high in air seemed like a harbinger of hope promising and consoling, and teaching the lesson of patience and perseverance that overcome all things! Of course, it was only the sentimentalists of the community who thus interpreted the language of the aërial monster, but these, like the people who find sermons in stones, promptly took heart, and bore their trials with renewed dignity and pluck. Both these qualities were in great demand, for the Boers and their tactics were exhausting to the patience of the most forbearing. Their pertinacity was great. At one moment they would pour shells into the town, making hearts palpitate or stand still in horror at the gruesome fracas; at others they would persistently “snipe” from hidden corners and bushes, and render movements in the open, to say the least of it—inconvenient.
Sniping always continued, though, for a day or two, no serious bombardment took place. Indeed, there was reason to believe that a Boer gun was hors de combat. The report came in that “Susannah” had burst. There was general jubilation. Later on it filtered out that “Susannah” was “all serene,” but this was doubted. The sanguine hoped against hope. We are ready enough to believe what we wish to be true, and finally, for want of something to discuss, the question of “Has she burst, or has she not burst?” was bandied about in the tone of a popular riddle. Unfortunately “Susannah” was intact, as subsequent experience proved. Not only was “Susannah” herself again, but it was reported that a considerable Boer reinforcement had arrived in the neighbourhood, and that three guns from Spyfontein were being ranged in attitude to defy “Long Cecil,” whose prowess was more decided than pleasant. Still the inhabitants bore up very creditably, and enlivened themselves continually with concerts or entertainments of some kind. The programmes, it must be noted, were always marked “weather and Boers permitting”—a modern adaptation of the customary D.V.
The Boer spies took a lively interest in all that concerned Mr. Rhodes, and hopes were entertained that before long some one would receive the price of his capture. But this gentleman pursued his avocations in the town and its suburbs with unabated interest, arranging for the comfort of the refugees, and evincing paternal solicitude in the laying out of new suburbs, and the construction of a regular row of bomb-proof shelters, which were being excavated at Kenilworth. People now became great connoisseurs on the virtue of brick, old and new, and began to mistrust corrugated iron as affording less protection from the artillery fire of the enemy. They became judges also of shell—of the peculiarities of shrapnel and ring shells—and sapiently discussed the merits of time fuses and percussion fuses. Food, however, was the prime subject of conversation—a subject of “devouring” interest, some one said. The refugee fund now amounted to £3000, owing to the united subscriptions of Mr. Rhodes and the De Beers Company. It was none too much, as the demand on its resources was some £600 weekly.
