As soon as the flag was raised the march past was begun, and thousands of the magnificent-looking troops passed in review before Lord Roberts. The British soldiers made a fine show, although they were evidently pretty well worn out; their horses, too, were in bad condition. The Colonials and the Gordon Highlanders were the most attractive part of the review and made the best showing. The naval guns were drawn by many spans of oxen, and looked tremendously business-like. Under ordinary conditions the spectacle would have been a sight to fill a spectator with enthusiasm and admiration; but, somehow, the scene seemed more an occasion of sadness, awakening admiration and pity for that little band of men who had marched out into the night only a few hours before. An American business man of Pretoria watched the regiments tramp past, and then remarked, “Well, I think the best way for the Boers to win out is to come back to-day and march in review before this army. They would not need to fight any more, for this whole lot would die of shame.” There was not a very large crowd to witness the occupation, considering the number of people in the city, for very few of the Boer sympathizers came out, and in most cases the women went into their houses, closing the front doors and windows tightly, and many did not open their houses until they were forced to come out to attend to their household marketing. Along the verandas of the Grand Hotel and in the street in front of the hotel a few ladies were to be seen, but except for these the crowd was composed of men, mostly blacks. This conspicuous absence of the women served to show the bitter feeling and intense hatred that prevailed among the people. The Union Bank, however, a British institution, swung out two large Union Jacks in honor of the event. While the review was passing, a corporal’s guard brought in two Boer prisoners, who were marched into the square, awaiting whatever disposition was to be made of them. One was a man about fifty, the other a boy about nine years old, in short trousers; but the little fellow had a rifle, and was held as a prisoner of war. As they stood there I could not but wonder what those British soldiers thought of such a sight. While the review was going on, I stood near the Burgomaster of Pretoria, a man whom I had met with General Botha and Secretary Reitz. He was a man who had held the highest municipal office under the Boer government, but now he was fawning upon a major of staff, telling him that he had always hated the Dutch government and everything connected with it. To gain favor in the eyes of his new masters, he blackguarded all the men who had made him what he was. It did not seem possible that this pitiful personage could be the same man who a few days before was an official of the Boer government.