nturing to raise his voice in favour of them except by way of comment
on the utterances of some fiery orator, who was for asking the General
to send back threats of dire punishment on every Boer if a shot should
be fired into the town. Mr. Charles Jones, who was a transport rider in
the Boer war of 1881, and carried Sir Evelyn Wood's despatches through
the enemy's lines to a beleaguered garrison, was first to express in
calm, manly words what was afterwards found to be the general feeling of
the townsmen present at that meeting. Mr. Jones has won the respect of
every Englishman who knows him by the steadfastness with which he stuck
to his post when others were seeking safety in migration to Maritzburg
or Durban. With firm faith in the leader under whom, as a volunteer, he
saw active service, Mr. Jones believes that we should see our
difficulties through, without asking or accepting doubtful favours from
a foe. Somebody in the crowd ventured to say, "But your wife and
children are not here now." "No," was the answer; "and I have no wish
nor right to speak for fathers and husbands, who are at liberty to do as
they please. But I can still say that if my wife and children were here,
I would rather they should trust to protection under the Union Jack with
British soldiers than under the white flag at Joubert's mercy."

There were men in that crowd who had to speak for those near and dear to
them. Anxious-eyed and pale, with muscles knit into hard lines on their
faces, one after another declared in voices that may have faltered, but
still rang true as steel, that they and theirs would face their fate
under the Union Jack. Archdeacon Barker, who has been ceaseless in his
ministrations among the afflicted since fighting began, gave eloquent
expression to the prevalent sentiment, as one who had kith and kin
about him, and finished by saying that he would neither go to the camp
selected by General Joubert, nor allow his wife and family to go. To
this conclusion the meeting also came by general agreement, the
dissentient minority being still free to do as they wished, except that
no man who had taken up arms in defence of Ladysmith could accept the
terms offered by General Joubert. Then the people gave three lusty
cheers, and ended by singing "God Save the Queen," with an effect, the
impressiveness of which was deepened by the thought that within a few
hours Ladysmith would be under bombardment from all the thundering
artillery our