SOUTH AFRICAN MEMORIES
SOCIAL, WARLIKE & SPORTING
FROM DIARIES WRITTEN AT THE TIME
BY
LADY SARAH WILSON
LONDON
EDWARD ARNOLD
1909
DEDICATION
TO THE MEMORY OF MY
BELOVED SISTER,
GEORGIANA, COUNTESS HOWE,
TO WHOSE EFFORTS AND UNCEASING
LABOURS IN CONNECTION WITH THE YEOMANRY HOSPITALS,
DURING THE WAR IN SOUTH AFRICA, THE EARLY
BREAKDOWN OF HER HEALTH, AND
SUBSEQUENT DEATH, WERE
UNDOUBTEDLY DUE,
THIS BOOK,
CONTAINING RECOLLECTIONS OF THAT
GREAT AND MYSTERIOUS LAND, THE GRAVE
OF SO MANY BRAVE ENGLISHMEN, IS AFFECTIONATELY
DEDICATED
PREFACE
Everything of interest that has happened to me in life chances to have
been in connection with South Africa. In that land, where some of my
happiest days have been spent, I have also experienced long periods of
intense excitement and anxiety; there I have made acquaintance with all
the charm of the veldt, in the vast country north of the great Zambesi
River, hearing the roar of the lions at night, and following their
"spoor" by day; and last, but not least, I have there made some very
good friends. Only a few years ago, when peacefully spending a few weeks
at Assouan in Egypt, I was nearly drowned by the capsizing of a boat in
the Nile; again the spirit of the vast continent (on this occasion far
away to the north) seemed to watch over me. For all these reasons I
venture to claim the indulgence of the public and the kindness of my
friends, for these recollections of days in South Africa, in which shade
and sunshine have been strangely mingled, and which to me have never
been dull. To sum up, I have always found that life is what you make it,
and have often proved the truth of the saying, "Adventures to the
adventurous."
I am indebted to Colonel Vyvyan for statistics respecting the Mafeking
Relief Fund; and to Miss A. Fielding, secretary to the late Countess
Howe, for a résumé of the work of the Yeomanry Hospital during the Boer
War.
S.I.W.
THE STUD HOUSE,
HAMPTON COURT.
_September, 1909_.
CONTENTS
I. FIRST VOYAGE TO SOUTH AFRICA--CAPE TOWN
II. KIMBERLEY AND THE JAMESON RAID
III. THE IMMEDIATE RESULTS OF THE RAID--THE RAIDERS THEMSELVES
IV. JOHANNESBURG AND PRETORIA IN 1896
V. THREE YEARS AFTER--LORD MILNER AT CAPE TOWN BEFORE THE WAR--MR.
CECIL RHODES AT GROOT SCHUURR--OTHER INTERESTING PERSONAGES
VI. PREPARATIONS FOR WAR--MAFEKING, AND DEPARTURE THEREFROM
VII. IN A REBELLIOUS COLONY--VISIT TO VRYBURG DURING THE
BOER OCCUPATION--I PASS OFF AS A DUTCHMAN'S SISTER
VIII. BETRAYED BY A PIGEON--THE BOERS COME AT LAST
IX. HOW I WAS MADE A PRISONER--IN A BOER LAAGER
X. EXCHANGED FOR A HORSE-THIEF--BACK TO MAFEKING
AFTER TWO MONTHS' WANDERINGS
XI. LIFE IN A BESIEGED TOWN
XII. LIFE IN A BESIEGED TOWN _(continued)_
XIII. ELOFF'S DETERMINED ATTACK ON
MAFEKING, AND THE RELIEF OF THE TOWN
XIV. ACROSS THE TRANSVAAL TO PRETORIA DURING THE WAR
XV. PRETORIA AND JOHANNESBURG UNDER LORD ROBERTS AND MILITARY LAW
XVI. MY RETURN TO CIVILIZATION ONCE MORE--THE
MAFEKING FUND--LETTERS FROM THE KING AND QUEEN
XVII. THE WORK OF LADY GEORGIANA CURZON, LADY CHESHAM, AND THE
YEOMANRY HOSPITAL, DURING THE WAR--THIRD VOYAGE TO THE CAPE, 1902
XVIII. FOURTH VOYAGE TO THE CAPE--THE VICTORIA
FALLS AND SIX WEEKS NORTH OF THE ZAMBESI
APPENDIX I. MAFEKING RELIEF FUND
APPENDIX II. IMPERIAL YEOMANRY HOSPITALS, 1900-1902
CHAPTER I
FIRST VOYAGE TO SOUTH AFRICA--CAPE TOWN.
"Oh that mine adversary had written a book!"--JOB xxxi. 35.
The above words, written by one of the greatest philosophers of olden
time, have often impressed me, and I have frequently quoted them when
asked why I did not write an account of the interesting travels and
adventures I have had in my life. It has therefore required a great deal
of courage to take up my pen and record a few recollections of South
Africa. I felt that, were they ever to be written at all, it must be
before the rapidly passing years diminish the interest in that land,
which in the past has been the object of such engrossing attention; and
that at the present time, when the impending Federation of South Africa
has at length crowned the hopes of those patriots who have laboured
patiently and hopefully to bring about this great result, it might be
appropriate to recall those days when Englishmen, who had made South
Africa their home, had much to contend with, even before the fierce
struggle to keep "the flag flying" in the years of 1899-1902.
During that period, which commenced after the disaster at Majuba Hill,
"equal rights" were a golden dream which only the most optimistic ever
hoped to see realized. From then onwards, as old colonists have so often
told me, the Boers brought up the younger generation in the belief that
the "Roinek"[1] was a coward, and in consequence their arrogance in the
country districts became wellnigh intolerable, while at the Cape the
Bond party grew so strong it bid fair to elbow out the English
altogether. Now, while the country is still young, the fair prospect
opens out of Briton and Boer living in amity and peace together, and
mutually supplying, in the government of their vast inheritance, such
elements as are wanting in the character of each.
My first visit to South Africa was a short one, and took place at the
end of 1895. During the foregoing summer everyone's attention had been
directed to the Transvaal, and more especially towards the Rand, by
reason of the unprecedented and, as it turned out, totally unwarranted
rise in the gold-mining shares of that district; in this boom, people
both at home and in Johannesburg madly gambled, and large fortunes were
quickly made by those who had foresight enough not to hold on too long.
For already the political horizon was darkening, and the wrongs of the
"Uitlanders," real and apparent as they were, became a parrot-cry, which
waxed and waned, but never died away, till the ultimatum of President
Kruger, in October, 1899, brought matters to a climax.
We sailed from Southampton in December, 1895, in the _Tantallon Castle_,
then one of the most modern and up-to-date of the Castle liners. The
ship was crowded to its utmost capacity, and among the passengers, as I
afterwards learned, were many deeply concerned in the plotting which was
known to be going on at Johannesburg, either to extort concessions from
President Kruger, or, failing this, to remove him altogether. I knew
very little about all this then, but before I had been many days on
board it was not difficult to discover that much mystery filled the air,
and I was greatly excited at arriving in South Africa in such stirring
times. There is no such place for getting to know people well as on a
sea-voyage of eighteen days. Somehow the sea inspires confidence, and
one knows that information imparted cannot, anyway, be posted off by the
same day's mail. So those who were helping to pull the strings of this
ill-fated rebellion talked pretty freely of their hopes and fears during
the long, dark tropical evenings.
I became familiar with their grievances--their unfair taxation; no
education for their children except in Dutch; no representation in
Parliament--and this in a population in which, at that time, the
English and Afrikanders at Johannesburg and in the surrounding districts
outnumbered the Dutch in the proportion of about 6 to 1. They laid
stress on the fact that neither the Boers nor their children were, or
desired to become, miners, and, further, that for the enormous sums
spent on developing and working the mines no proper security existed. I
must admit it was the fiery-headed followers who talked the
loudest--those who had nothing to lose and much to gain. The financiers,
while directing and encouraging their zeal, seemed almost with the same
hand to wish to put on the brake and damp their martial ardour. In any
case, all were so eloquent that by the time our voyage was ended I felt
as great a rebel against "Oom Paul" and his Government as any one of
them.
Before leaving the _Tantallon Castle_, however, I must pass in review
some of those whose home it had been with ourselves for the best part of
three weeks. First I remember the late Mr. Alfred Beit, interesting as
the man who had made the most colossal fortune of all the South African
magnates, and who was then already said to be the most generous of
philanthropists and the kindest of friends; this reputation he fully
sustained in the subsequent years of his life and in the generous
disposition of his vast wealth. I have often been told that Mr. Cecil
Rhodes owed the inspiration of some of his colossal ideas to his friend
Mr. Beit, and when it came to financing the same, the latter was always
ready to assist in carrying out projects to extend and consolidate the
Empire. In these latter years, and since his comparatively early death,
I have heard those who still bear the brunt of the battle lament his
loss, and remark, when a railway was to be built or a new part of the
country opened up, how much more expeditiously it would be done were Mr.
Beit still alive.
Other names that occur to me are Mr. Abe Bailey, well known in racing
circles to-day, and then reputed a millionaire, the foundation of whose
fortune consisted in a ten-pound note borrowed from a friend. Mr. Wools
Sampson,[2] who subsequently so greatly distinguished himself at
Ladysmith, where he was dangerously wounded, had an individuality all
his own; he had seen every side of life as a soldier of fortune,
attached to different regiments, during all the fighting in South Africa
of the preceding years. He was then a mining expert, associated with
Mr. Bailey in Lydenburg, but his heart evidently lay in fighting and in
pursuing the different kinds of wild animals that make their home on the
African veldt. Dr. Rutherford Harris, then the Secretary of the
Chartered Company; Mr. Henry Milner, an old friend; Mr. Geoffrey Glyn
and Mr. F. Guest, are others whom I specially remember; besides many
more, some of whom have joined the vast majority, and others whom I have
altogether lost sight of, but who helped to make the voyage a very
pleasant one.
We landed at Cape Town shortly before Christmas Day. As I have since
learnt by the experience of many voyages, it is nearly always at dawn
that a liner is brought alongside the quay at the conclusion of a long
voyage; in consequence, sleep is almost out of the question the last
night at sea, owing to the noisy manipulations of the mail-bags and
luggage. However, one is always so glad to get on shore that it is of
very little import, and on this occasion we were all anxious to glean
the latest news after being cut off from the world for so many days. The
papers contained gloomy accounts of the markets. "King Slump" still held
his sway, and things abroad looked very unsettled; so most of our
friends appeared, when we met later, with very long faces. After
breakfast, leaving our luggage to the tender mercies of some officious
agent, who professed to see it "through the Customs," we took a hansom
and drove to the Grand Hotel, _en route_ to the hotel, in the suburb of
Newlands, where we had taken rooms. My first impressions of Cape Town
certainly were not prepossessing, and well I remember them, even after
all these years. The dust was blowing in clouds, stirred up by the
"south-easter" one hears so much about--an icy blast which appears to
come straight from the South Pole, and which often makes its appearance
in the height of summer, which season it then was. The hansom, of the
oldest-fashioned type, shook and jolted beyond belief, and threatened
every moment to fall to pieces. The streets from the docks to the town
were unfinished, untidy, and vilely paved, and I remember comparing them
very unfavourably with Melbourne or Sydney. However, I soon modified my
somewhat hasty judgment. We had seen the town's worst aspects, and later
I noticed some attractive-looking shops; the imposing Houses of
Parliament, in their enclosed grounds, standing out sharply defined
against the hazy background of Table Mountain; and the Standard Bank and
Railway-station, which would hold their own in any city. At the same
time, as a place of residence in the summer months, I can well
understand Cape Town being wellnigh deserted. Those who can boast of
even the most moderate means have their residences in the attractive
suburbs of Rondebosch, Newlands, or Wynberg, and innumerable are the
pretty little villas and gardens one sees in these vicinities. There the
country is beautifully wooded, thick arching avenues of oak extending
for miles, interspersed with tracts of Scotch firs and pines, the latter
exhaling a delicious perfume under the sun's powerful rays. Everywhere
green foliage and abundant vegetation, which, combined with the setting
of the bluest sky that can be imagined, make the drives round Cape Town
some of the most beautiful in the world. At Newlands, the Governor's
summer residence, a pretty but unpretentious abode, Sir Hercules and
Lady Robinson then dispensed generous hospitality, only regretting their
house was too small to accommodate visitors, besides their married
daughters. We stayed at the Vineyard Hotel in the immediate
neighbourhood--a funny old-fashioned hostelry, standing in its own
grounds, and not in the least like an hotel as we understand the word.
There whole families seemed to reside for months, and very comfortable
it was, if somewhat primitive, appearing to keep itself far apart from
the rush of modern improvements, and allowing the world to go by it
unheeded. Only half a mile away, at Rondebosch, was situated then, as
now, on the lower slopes of Table Mountain, the princely domain of the
late Mr. Cecil Rhodes. At the moment of which I write the house itself
was only approaching completion, and I must now record a few
particulars of our introduction to this great Englishman and his
world-famed home. We drove to Groot Schuurr, or "Great Barn," one
afternoon with Mr. Beit. The house is approached by a long avenue of
enormously high Scotch firs, which almost meet aloft, and remind one of
the nave of some mighty cathedral, such is the subdued effect produced
by the sunlight even on the brightest summer day. A slight rise in the
road, a serpentine sweep, and the house itself comes into view, white,
low, and rambling, with many gables and a thatched roof. The right wing
was then hidden by scaffolding, and workmen were also busy putting in a
new front-door, of which more anon; for a tall, burly gentleman in a
homely costume of flannels and a slouch hat emerged from the unfinished
room, where he would seem to have been directing the workmen, and we
were introduced to Cecil John Rhodes, the Prime Minister of Cape Colony.
I looked at the man, of whom I had heard so much, with a great deal of
curiosity. Shy and diffident with strangers, his manner even somewhat
abrupt, one could not fail to be impressed with the expression of power,
resolution, and kindness, on the rugged countenance, and with the keen,
piercing glance of the blue eyes, which seemed to read one through in an
instant. He greeted us, as he did every newcomer, most warmly, and
under his guidance we passed into the completed portion of the house,
the rooms of which were not only most comfortable, but also perfect in
every detail as regards the model he wished to copy--viz., a Dutch house
of 200 years ago, even down to the massive door aforementioned, which he
had just purchased for £200 from a colonial family mansion, and which
seemed to afford him immense pleasure. As a first fleeting memory of the
interior of Groot Schuurr, I call to mind Dutch armoires, all
incontestably old and of lovely designs, Dutch chests, inlaid
high-backed chairs, costly Oriental rugs, and everywhere teak
panelling--the whole producing a vision of perfect taste and old-world
repose. It was then Mr. Rhodes's intention to have no electric light, or
even lamps, and burn nothing but tallow candles, so as to keep up the
illusion of antiquity; but whether he would have adhered to this
determination it is impossible to say, as the house we saw was burnt to
the ground later on, and is now rebuilt on exactly the same lines, but
with electric light, every modern comfort, and lovely old red tiles to
replace the quaint thatched roof.
Passing through the rooms, we came to the wide verandah, or stoep, on
the other or eastern side. This ran the whole length of the edifice, and
was used as a delightful lounge, being provided with luxurious settees
and armchairs. From here Mr. Rhodes pointed out the view he loved so
well, and which comes vividly to my mind to-day. In front three terraces
rise immediately beyond the gravel courtyard, which is enclosed on three
sides by the stoep. These, bright with flowers, lead to a great grass
plateau, on which some more splendid specimens of Scotch firs rear their
lofty heads; while behind, covered with trees and vegetation, its
brilliant green veiled by misty heat, Table Mountain forms a glorious
background, in striking contrast to the cobalt of the heavens. To the
right of the terraces is a glade, entirely covered with vivid blue
hydrangeas in full bloom, giving the appearance of a tract of azure
ground. Lower down the hillside, in little valleys, amidst oak and other
English forest trees, a carpet is formed of cannas of many hues,
interspersed with masses of gleaming white arum lilies, which grow here
wild in very great profusion.
Our time was too short on this occasion to see any portion of Mr.
Rhodes's estate or the animals--antelope of many kinds, wildebeestes,
elands, and zebras--which roamed through his woods. We lunched with him
two days later on Christmas Eve, and then the weather was so hot that we
only lazily enjoyed the shade and breezes on the stoep. Well do I
remember on that occasion how preoccupied was our host, and how
incessantly the talk turned to Johannesburg and the raging discontent
there. In truth, Mr. Rhodes's position was then a very difficult one: he
was Prime Minister of Cape Colony, and therefore officially neutral; but
in his heart he remained the keen champion of the oppressed Uitlanders,
having nominated his brother, Frank Rhodes, to be one of the leaders of
the Reform Committee at Johannesburg. No wonder he was graver than was
his wont, with many complications overshadowing him, as one afterwards
so fully realized. His kindness as a host, however, suffered no
diminution, and I remember how warmly he pressed us to stay with him
when we returned from the north, though he did add, "My plans are a
little unsettled." This suggested visit, however, was never paid; Mr.
Rhodes a few weeks afterwards was starting for England, to, as he termed
it, "face the music." I shall have occasion to describe him in his home,
and the life at Groot Schuurr, more fully later on, when I passed many
happy and never-to-be-forgotten weeks beneath his hospitable roof. As
years went on, his kindness to both friends and political foes grew
almost proverbial, but even in 1895 Groot Schuurr, barely finished, was
already known to be one of the pleasantest places near Cape Town--a
meeting-place for all the men of the colony either on their way to and
from England, or on the occasion of their flying visits to the capital.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Red neck, or Englishman.
[2] Now Sir A. Wools Sampson, K.C.B.