and stores of the defenders had fallen into their hands, and they were enabled to view, with apparent equanimity, the spectacle of retreating masses of British infantry, yeomanry, and artillery. Westwards along the network of roads leading in the direction of the High Peak, Derwent Dale, Bradfield, Buxton, and on to Glossop, the British were fast retreating, evidently making Manchester their objective.
Sheffield was utterly dumbfounded. The barricades had been broken down and swept away. The troops, of whom they had hoped so much, had been simply swept away, and now the streets were full of burly foreigners. George Street swarmed with Westphalian infantry and men of Lorraine; in Church Street a squadron of Uhlans were drawn up opposite the Sheffield and Hallamshire Bank, while the sidewalk was occupied by piled arms of the 39th Fusilier Regiment. In the space around the Town Hall the 6th Infantry Regiment of the Rhine and a regiment of Cuirassiers were standing at ease. Many of the stalwart sons of the Fatherland were seen to light their pipes and stolidly enjoy a smoke, while officers in small groups stood here and there discussing the events of the victorious day.
The saddest scenes were to be witnessed at the Royal Infirmary, in Infirmary Road, at the Royal Hospital in West Street, and even in some of the vacant wards in the Jessop Hospital for Women in Victoria Street, which had to be requisitioned for the accommodation of the crowds of wounded of both nations, so constantly being brought in by carts, carriages, motor-cars, and even cabs.
The St. John's Ambulance Brigade, with many ladies, were doing all they could to render aid, while the Queen Victoria Jubilee Institute for Nurses was called upon for all available help. Every place where sick could be accommodated, including the well-known George Woofindin Convalescent Home, was crowded to overflowing with sufferers, while every doctor in Sheffield bore his part in unceasing surgical work. But the number of dead on both sides it was impossible to estimate.
