The correspondent of the Pall Mall Gazette quoted a sample scene to describe the style of friendly intercourse that took place.
“Cape ‘boy’ to Boer: ‘Could you hit a bottle?’ ‘Yes, I think so. Put one up.’ (A hand rises cautiously to the top of the British trench, and a black bottle is deposited there.)
“Boer: ‘I can’t see it. Put it higher.’ (The Cape ‘boy’ balances a hat on the head of the bottle and says, ‘There you are; you can see that.’) The Boer fires, and the bullet flies wide.
“Cape ‘boy’: ‘Wide to the left.’ (Boer fires again and asks, ‘Is that nearer?’)
“Cape ‘boy’: ‘Rather high.’ Boer fires a third shot that comes through the loophole.
“The Cape soldier announces the result, and the Boer, fearing that he will lose his good reputation for marksmanship, and angered by his bad display, sings out—
“‘Look here, you rooinek, we were sent here not to shoot bottles, but men.’”
Curiously enough many of the Boers were hopelessly ignorant and unsophisticated. They hardly knew what they were fighting for, and one raw individual was heard to declare that he didn’t believe the Queen had caused this war, but the foreman of the English Raad. They retained their bumptiousness in all circumstances. After a victory they would brag of the number of British killed, about 80,000 as a rule, their news being gleaned from the imaginative columns of the Standard and Diggers’ News. On the subject of defeat they were reticent, but fairly confident that the Dutch flag in a month or two was bound to be floating over South Africa.
On Sunday the 25th, a great Siege Exhibition took place—an exhibition notable for its originality. Among the articles on view were bonnets which had been trimmed with “siege” materials by ladies of the town. These were never tired of showing their usefulness and versatility, but, as Lady Sarah Wilson—a host in herself—declared in the Daily Mail, “even the dogs played a prominent part in the siege. One belonging to the base commandant was wounded no less than three times; another, a rough Irish terrier, accompanied the Protectorate Regiment in all its engagements; a third amused itself by running after the small Maxim shells, barking loudly and trying hard to retrieve pieces; while the Resident Commissioner’s dog, a prudent animal, whenever she heard the alarm-bell tore into the bomb-proof attached to her master’s redoubt, and remained there till the explosion was over. The sagacious creatures rendered themselves most valuable, for no sooner had the warning bell announced the firing of a shell than the town dogs began to bark loudly in all quarters, thus enabling persons who, owing to the direction of the wind or other circumstances, had failed to note the signal, to escape to their shelters.” The natives were much more apathetic, and Reuter’s correspondent gave curious instances of their stupidity and laisser faire. “They would gather in great crowds round the soup-kitchens in the town, and when bells were rung warning them that the enemy’s 6-inch gun had been fired they were too lazy to take cover in the lee of the surrounding buildings, and had to be driven to do so by means of sticks and sjamboks. Many would rather die than work, and were too lazy to attempt the now comparatively safe journey to Kanya.”
It was annoying to hear perpetual rumours of relief and to find relief as far off as ever. Runners continually brought in telegrams of congratulation, which added not a little to the bitterness of incarceration. At one moment Plumer seemed to be coming; he was said to be only eleven miles off, and the town was in ecstasies; at another bombardment began briskly as ever, and spirits descended to zero. One of the besieged, writing home on March 22, said:—