ed
in one heartrending wail of woe and disappointment. The
consternation that followed the announcement of the ignoble
surrender is thus described by Mr. Nixon, who was an eye-witness and
sharer of the general grief and humiliation:--

"The scene which ensued baffles description. The men hoisted the
colours half-mast high. The Union Jack was pulled down and dragged
through the mud. The distinctive ribbons worn round the hats of the
men as badges were pulled off and trampled underfoot. I saw men
crying like children with shame and despair. Some went raving up and
down that they were Englishmen no longer; others, with flushed and
indignant faces, sat contemplating their impending ruin, 'refusing
to be comforted.' It was a painful, distressing, and humiliating
scene, and such as I hope never to witness again. While I write,
the remembrance of it comes vividly before me; and as I recall to
mind the weeping men and women, the infuriated volunteers, and the
despairing farmers and storekeepers, half crazy with the sense of
wounded national honour, and the prospect of loss and ruin before
them, my blood boils within me, and I cannot trust myself to commit
to paper what I think. The lapse of two years has but deepened the
feeling which I then experienced. The subject may perhaps be only
unpleasant to people at home, but to me personally, who have seen
the ruin and dismay brought upon the too credulous loyalists, the
recollections it stirs up are more bitterly mortifying than words
can describe."

Mr. Rider Haggard, who at this time was at Newcastle, has also
recorded his experiences on the unhappy occasion. He says:--"Every
hotel and bar was crowded with refugees who were trying to relieve
their feelings by cursing the name of Gladstone with a vigour,
originality, and earnestness that I have never heard equalled; and
declaring in ironical terms how proud they were to be citizens of
England--a country that always kept its word. Then they set to work
with many demonstrations of contempt to burn the effigy of the right
honourable gentleman at the head of her Majesty's Government, an
example, by the way, that was followed throughout South Africa."
Talking of the loyal inhabitants in the Transvaal on whom the news
burst 'like a thunderbolt,' he explains that they did not say
much--because there was nothing to be said! They simply packed up
their portable goods and chattels, and made haste to leave the
country, "which they well kn