le
of whiskey hidden in his tail-coat pocket or amid a basket of fruit. A
very energetic and clever young officer of the Dublin Fusiliers,
Lieutenant Grimshaw, undertook the task of managing the mess, and when
he was assisted by another subaltern--Lieutenant Southey, of the Royal
Irish Fusiliers--this became an exceedingly well-conducted concern. In
spite of the high prices prevailing in Pretoria--prices which were
certainly not lowered for our benefit--the somewhat meagre rations which
the Government allowed were supplemented, until we lived, for three
shillings a day, quite as well as any regiment on service.

On arrival, every officer was given a new suit of clothes, bedding,
towels, and toilet necessaries, and the indispensable Mr, Boshof was
prepared to add to this wardrobe whatever might be required on payment
either in money or by a cheque on Messrs. Cox & Co., whose accommodating
fame had spread even to this distant hostile town. I took an early
opportunity to buy a suit of tweeds of a dark neutral colour, and as
unlike the suits of clothes issued by the Government as possible. I
would also have purchased a hat, but another officer told me that he had
asked for one and had been refused. After all, what use could I find for
a hat, when there were plenty of helmets to spare if I wanted to Walk in
the courtyard? And yet my taste ran towards a slouch hat.

The case of the soldiers was less comfortable than ours. Their rations
were very scanty: only one pound of bully beef once a week and two
pounds of bread; the rest was made up with mealies, potatoes, and
such-like--and not very much of them. Moreover, since they had no
money of their own, and since prisoners of war received no pay, they
were unable to buy even so much as a pound of tobacco. In consequence
they complained a good deal, and were, I think, sufficiently
discontented to require nothing but leading to make them rise against
their guards.

The custody and regulating of the officers were entrusted to a board of
management, four of whose members visited us frequently and listened to
any complaints or requests. M. de Souza, the Secretary of War, was
perhaps the most friendly and obliging of these, and I think we owed
most of the indulgences to his representations. He was a far-seeing
little man who had travelled to Europe, and had a very clear conception
of the relative strengths of Britain and the Transvaal. He enjoyed a
lucrative and influential positio