Bloemfontein! A name of milk and honey, of flowers and dew! Every vowel breathed of pastoral simplicity, of luscious grasses and lowing kine, of gambolling game and purling stream. A name for a poet to conjure with! a talisman to awaken the mellow music of a Herrick and recall the soul of Walton to benevolent rejoicings in the “sights and sounds of the open landscape.” Unfortunately, the mellifluous name was not derived from the German for flowers or from the melody of fountains. It owed its origin to a Boer peasant who stood godfather to the hamlet and also to an adjacent stream. Here in other days the innocent Voertrekker unpacked his waggons and set out his little farmstead, choosing green rising ground, an oasis in the sandy veldt, and the neighbourhood of a refreshing rivulet for comfort’s sake, and not because he foresaw that in fifty years this spot would be the central scene in one of the largest dramas of the world! In the year 1845 the Union Jack first waved its protective folds over the homestead. At that period it was converted into the official abode of a British Resident, and from that time, with an expansion which was truly British, the tiny village developed till it became a town, and finally passed over, through British apathy and dislike for responsibility, to the hands of the Free Staters. And there it might and would have remained had not President Steyn, who owed us no grudge, and with whom we were on the best of terms, decided to put his finger in the diplomatic pie, in the hope that some of the plums would fall to his share. Thus, in his greed for power and his contempt for the British, he embroiled his country, and being unable to defend his capital, was forced to scurry off to his birthplace, Winburg, some miles to the east, where, with the assistance of his foreign mercenaries, he yet hoped to save himself from the consequences of his ill-advised interference. So it came to pass that on the 13th of March 1900, thirty-nine days after the commencement of his great march, Lord Roberts, with the magnificent British army in his wake, moved unopposed towards the capital of the Free State.
| Mr Kellner. |
| Mr Pappenfus. | Mr Collins. | Lord Roberts. |
THE FORMAL SURRENDER OF BLOEMFONTEIN.
Drawing by J. Finnemore, from a Sketch by W. B. Wollen, R.I.
The entry into the town was an imposing spectacle. The Mayor, Dr. Kellner, the Landrost, Mr. Papenfus, and Mr. Fraser, as we know, had driven out in a cart to meet Lord Roberts, and four miles outside the town the keys of the town were given up. Then the Field-Marshal, the most simply dressed man in his whole army, appeared at the head of a cavalcade a mile long. He was followed by his military secretary, his aides-de-camp, the general officers on his staff with their respective staffs. Then came the foreign attachés, some war-correspondents, and Lord Roberts’ Indian servants, who contributed a warm note of colour to the sombre files of kharki. After this came a serpentine train of cavalry and guns, which entered the city at one o’clock. It was the most wonderful military display that has been seen for years. A gigantic army—not a peace but a war army, not the crude army of Salisbury Plain but the perfected article, the army minus its raw recruits and plus its trained reserves, which owed its magnificent development to the man whom Lord Wolseley has called “the greatest War Minister we ever had.” Looking at the splendid physique of the warrior multitude, it was impossible for military men, even those who had criticised most severely the short service system, to deny that to-day the triumph of Lord Cardwell’s principle was complete!
The crowds collected from far and wide, all business was suspended, and knots and cliques gathered together to witness the procession moving up the slopes towards the town itself. Cheer after cheer rang through the air, kerchiefs waved and blessings were prayed for, as the procession marched through the collected crowd and on into the market square. Lord Roberts then went to the Government Buildings, and took formal possession in the name of the sovereign. There was renewed cheering and singing of “God save the Queen,” when, half-an-hour later, at twenty minutes to two, a small silken Union Jack, specially worked by Lady Roberts, was seen floating over the town.
The day passed without notable incident. A public holiday was observed, and the kharki-clad crowds rejoiced themselves by singing “Tommy Atkins” and feasting right royally. They were quite undisturbed by the scarcely complimentary remarks of the Burghers, who compared them in number and colour and appetite to a swarm of locusts!
Mr. Steyn’s brother, who, it may be remembered, had failed to get away with his belongings in time, remained discreetly at his farm, where he entertained General French, and subsequently Lord Roberts. One of the curious features of the entry into the capital of the Free State was the extraordinary welcome given by the inhabitants to the conquerors. Regiment after regiment filed past to the tune of hearty cheers, and surprised pleasure at the orderly and humane entry of the enemy was visible on every face. While the public offices were taken over by Lord Roberts’ staff, the banks were visited by Colonel Richardson. This officer was accounted one of the heroes of the hour, for sufficient praise could not be given to the achievements of the Army Corps or to Colonel Richardson, whose task of provisioning, foraging, and transporting 40,000 men and 18,000 horses savoured of the labours of Hercules. There were quibblers, of course; but, practically considered, all had gone off without a hitch, and the whole arrangements moved, as the phrase is, “on greased wheels,” the influence over all of the beloved “Bobs” having been simply magical.
The next day Lord Roberts inspected the Guards Brigade, complimented them on their splendid march, and expressed his regret that through a mistake he had been unable to enter Bloemfontein at the head of the Brigade. He consoled them by saying, “I will lead you into Pretoria!” In these gracious words the troops were rewarded for their disappointment, for the Chief, though he had promised them to lead them into the town, had finally decided that it was expedient to enter the capital without waiting for the infantry.