furnishing sinews of war to their country's enemy, and in order to secure
greater wealth sought to prolong the war by cheering disheartened Boers
and expressing faith in their final success. The chambers of the
Government building were filled with men who had horses, waggons, flour,
forage and clothing to offer at exorbitant prices, and in thousands of
instances the embarrassed Government was obliged to pay whatever sums were
demanded. Hand-in-hand with the contractors were the speculators who were
taking advantage of the absence of the leading officials to secure
valuable concessions, mining claims, and even gold mines. Before the war,
when hordes of speculators and concession-seekers thronged the city, the
scene was pathetic enough, but when all shrewd Raad members were at the
front and unable to guard their country's interests the picture was dark
and pitiful.

Pretoria seemed to have but one mood during the war. It was never deeply
despondent nor gay. There was a sort of funereal atmosphere throughout the
city, whether its residents were rejoicing over a Spion Kop or suffering
from the dejection of a Paardeberg. It was the same grim throng of old
men, women, and children who watched the processions of prisoners of war
and attended the funerals at the quaint little Dutch church in the centre
of the city. The finest victories of the army never changed the appearance
of the city nor the mood of its inhabitants. There were no parades nor
shouting when a victory was announced, and there was the same stoical
indifference when the news of a bitter defeat was received. A victory was
celebrated in the Dutch church by the singing of psalms, and a defeat by
the offering of prayers for the success of the army.

The thousands of British subjects who were allowed to remain in the
Transvaal, being of a less phlegmatic race, were not so calm when a
victory of their nation's army was announced, and when the news of