SOUTH AFRICA.
VOL. II.
SOUTH AFRICA.
BY
ANTHONY TROLLOPE.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
_FOURTH EDITION._
LONDON:
CHAPMAN AND HALL, 193, PICCADILLY.
1878.
(_All rights reserved._)
LONDON:
PRINTED BY VIRTUE AND CO., LIMITED,
CITY ROAD.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
THE TRANSVAAL.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
THE TRANSVAAL.--NEWCASTLE TO PRETORIA 3
CHAPTER II.
THE TRANSVAAL.--ITS HISTORY 26
CHAPTER III.
THE TRANSVAAL.--ANNEXATION 50
CHAPTER IV.
THE TRANSVAAL.--PRETORIA 67
CHAPTER V.
THE TRANSVAAL.--ITS CONDITION AND PRODUCTS 89
CHAPTER VI.
THE TRANSVAAL.--PRETORIA TO THE DIAMOND FIELDS 112
GRIQUALAND WEST.
CHAPTER VII.
GRIQUALAND WEST--WHY WE TOOK IT 137
CHAPTER VIII.
THE STORY OF THE DIAMOND FIELDS 161
CHAPTER IX.
KIMBERLEY 185
THE ORANGE FREE STATE.
CHAPTER X.
THE ORANGE FREE STATE.--ITS EARLY HISTORY 209
CHAPTER XI.
THE ORANGE FREE STATE.--PRESENT CONDITION 232
CHAPTER XII.
THE ORANGE FREE STATE.--BLOEMFONTEIN 256
NATIVE TERRITORIES.
CHAPTER XIII.
THABA ’NCHO 275
CHAPTER XIV.
KRELI AND HIS KAFIRS 286
CHAPTER XV.
THE BASUTOS 310
CHAPTER XVI.
NAMAQUALAND 320
CHAPTER XVII.
CONCLUSION 327
THE TRANSVAAL.
SOUTH AFRICA.
CHAPTER I.
THE TRANSVAAL.--NEWCASTLE TO PRETORIA.
THE distance from Newcastle to Pretoria is 207 miles. About 20 miles
north from Newcastle we crossed the borders of what used to be the
Transvaal Republic, but which since the 12th August last,--1877,--forms
a separate British Colony under the dominion of Her Majesty. The
geographical configuration here is remarkable as at the point of contact
between Natal and the Transvaal the boundary of the Orange Free State is
not above two or three miles distant, and that of Zulu Land, which is at
present but ill defined, not very far off;--so that in the event of the
Transvaal being joined to Natal the combined Colonies would hang
together by a very narrow neck of land.
Of all our dominions the Transvaal is probably the most remote. Its
Capital is 400 miles from the sea, and that distance is not annihilated
or even relieved by any railway. When I left home my main object perhaps
was to visit this remote district, of which I had never heard much and
in which I had been interested not at all, till six months before I
started on my journey. Then the country had been a foreign Republic,
not very stable as was supposed, and assimilated in my mind with some of
the South American Republics which so often change their name and their
condition and in which the stanchest lovers of the Republican form of
Government hardly put much faith. Now I was in the country and was not
only assured myself as to its future security,--but was assured also of
the assurance of all who were concerned. Whether Great Britain had done
right or wrong to annex the Transvaal, every sod of its soil had
instantly been made of double value to its proprietor by the deed which
had been done.
Here I was in the Transvaal through which at a period long since that of
my own birth lions used to roam at will, and the tribes of the Swazies
and Matabeles used to work their will against each other, unconscious of
the coming of the white man. Now there are no lions in the land,--and,
as far as I could see as I made my journey, very few Natives in the
parts which had really been inhabited by the Dutch.
I cannot say that the hotels along the road were very good. By the
ordinary travelling Englishman the accommodation would have been
considered very bad;--but we did find places in which we could shelter
ourselves, and beds of some kind were provided for us. A separate
bedroom had become a luxury dear to the imagination and perpetuated by
memory. We were a week on the road from Newcastle and pulled off our
clothes but once,--when we were under the hospitable roof of Mrs.
Swickhard, who keeps a store about half way at a place called Standers
Drift. At one or two places there were little Inns, always called
hotels, and at others we were taken in by farmers or storekeepers.
Sometimes the spot on which we were invited to lie down was so
uninviting as to require the summoning up of a special courage. Twice I
think we were called upon to occupy the same bed,--on which occasions my
age preserved me from the hard ground on which my younger companion had
to stretch himself. He had stories to tell of nocturnal visitors to
which I have ever been inhospital and useless,--the only wild beast that
has ever attacked me being the musquito. Of musquitoes in the Transvaal
I had no experience, and was told that even in summer they are not
violent. We were travelling in September, which is equal in its
circumstances to our March at home. So much for our beds. On our route
we banqueted at times like princes,--but these were the times in which
we camped out in the veld,--the open field side,--and consumed our own
provisions. Never was such tea made as we had. And yet the tea in all
the houses was bad,--generally so bad as to be undrinkable. We had
bought our tea, as other Colonists buy theirs, at Pieter Maritzburg, and
I do not think that the grocer had done anything peculiar for us. But we
were determined that the water should boil, that the proper number of
tea-spoon-fulls should be afforded, and that the tea should have every
chance. We certainly succeeded. And surely never was there such bacon
fried, or such cold tongues extracted from tin pots. It happened more
than once that we were forced by circumstances to breakfast at houses on
the road,--but when we did so we always breakfasted again a few miles
off by the side of some spruit,--Anglice brook,--where our horses could
get water and eat their forage.
The matter of forage is the main question for all travellers through
these parts of South Africa. Let a man sleep where he may and eat what
he will, he can go on. Let him sleep not at all and eat but little, he
can have himself dragged to his destination. The will within him to
reach a given place carries him safely through great hardships. But it
is not so with your horse,--and is less so in the Transvaal than in any
other country in which I have travelled. We soon learned that our chief
care must be to provide proper food for our team, if we wished to reach
Pretoria,--let alone those further towns, Kimberley and Bloemfontein.
Now there are three modes in which a horse may be fed on such a journey.
He may nibble the grass,--or cut his own bread and butter,--as horses do
successfully in Australia; but if left to that resource he will soon
cease to drag the vehicle after him in South Africa. Or he may be fed
upon mealies. I hope my reader has already learned that maize or Indian
corn is so called in South Africa. Mealies are easily carried, and are
almost always to be purchased along the road. But horses fed upon them
while at fast work become subject to sickness and die upon the journey.
If used at all they should be steeped in water and dried, but even then
they are pernicious except in small quantities. Forage is the only
thing. Now forage consists of corn cut green, wheat or oats or
barley,--dried with the grain in it and preserved in bundles, like hay.
It is cumbrous to carry and it will frequently happen that it cannot be
bought on the road side. But you must have forage, or you will not get
to your journey’s end. We did manage to supply ourselves, sometimes
carrying a large roll of it inside the cart as well as a sack filled
with it outside. Every farmer grows a little of it through the country;
and the storekeepers along the road, who buy it at 3d. a bundle sell it
for a shilling or eighteen pence in accordance with their conscience.
But yet we were always in alarm lest we should find ourselves without
it. A horse requires about six bundles a day to be adequately fed for
continual work. “Have you got forage?” was the first question always
asked when the cart was stopped and one of us descended to enquire as to
the accommodation that might be forthcoming.
We travelled something over thirty miles a day, always being careful not
to allow the horses to remain at their work above two hours and a half
at a time. Then we would “out-span,”--take the horses out from the
carriage, knee-hobble them and turn them loose with their forage spread
upon the ground. Then all our energies would be devoted to the tea
kettle and the frying pan.
As we travelled most heartrending accounts reached us of the fate of my
companions from Pieter Maritzburg to Newcastle, who had pursued their
journey by the mail cart to Pretoria. This conveyance is not supposed
absolutely to travel night and day;--nor does it go regularly by day and
stop regularly by night in a Christian fashion, but makes its progress
with such diminished periods of relaxation as the condition of the
animals drawing it may create. If the roads and animals be good, four or
six hours in the twenty-four may be allowed to the weary
passengers;--but if not,--if as at this time they both be very bad, the
periods of relaxation are only those necessary for taking up the mail
bags and catching the animals which are somewhere out on the veld,
hobbled, and biding their time. For the mail cart the road was very bad
indeed, while by our happy luck, for us it was very good. They travelled
through two days and nights of uninterrupted rain by which the roads and
rivers were at once made almost equally impassable; while for us, so
quick are the changes effected, everything had become dry and at the
same time free from dust. From place to place we heard of them,--how the
three unfortunates had walked into one place fifteen miles in advance of
the cart, wet through, carrying their shoes and stockings in their
hands, and had then slept upon the ground till the vehicle had come up,
the mules had been caught, and they had been carried on a mile or two
when they had again been forced to walk. They were at this period two
days late and had been travelling on these conditions for four days and
four nights with the journey yet unfinished before them. Had I been one
of them I think they would have been forced to leave me behind them on
the way side. On the road we met their conveyance coming back. It had
carried them to a certain point and had thence returned. It was a
miserable box on wheels with two mules whose wretched bones seemed to
come through their skin. They could not raise a trot though they had no
load but the black driver, and I presume some mail bags.
Nor was any one to blame for all this,--except the late Government. For
two years and a half the Contractor had done the work without receiving
his pay. That he should have gone on and done it at all is the
marvel;--but he had persevered spending all that he could make elsewhere
upon the effort. When the annexation came he was paid his arrears in
lump,--very much no doubt to his comfort; but then there were new
tenders and a new contract and it was hardly to be expected that he
should lay out his happily recovered money in providing horses and
conveyances for a month or two.
I was assured, and I believe truly, that this special journey,--which I
did not take,--was the most unfortunate that had ever occurred on this
unfortunate road. The animals had of course gone down the hill from bad
to worse, and then had come the heavy rain. It seemed to be almost a
direct Providence which had rescued me from its misery.
As I passed along the road I took every opportunity that came in my way
of entering the houses of the Dutch. I had heard much of the manners of
the Boers, and of their low condition of life. I had been told that they
were altogether unprogressive,--that the Boer farmer of this day was as
his father had been, that so had been the grandfather and the great
grandfather, and that so was the son about to be; that they were
uneducated, dirty in their habits, ignorant of comforts, and
parsimonious in the extreme. These are the main accusations brought
against the Boers as a race, and they are supported by various
allegations in detail;--as that they do not send their children to
school; that large families live in two roomed houses, fathers mothers
sons and daughters sleeping in one chamber; that they never wash, and
wear their clothes day and night without changing them; that they will
live upon the carcases of wild beasts and blesboks which they can shoot
upon the lands so as to reduce their expenditure on food to a
minimum;--that they are averse to neighbours, and that they will pay for
no labour, thus leaving their large farms untilled and to a great extent
unpastured. And added to all this it is said that the Boer is
particularly averse to all change, resolving not only to do as his
father has done before him, but also that his son shall do the like for
the future.
The reader will probably perceive that these charges indicate an absence
of that civilization which is produced in the world by the congregated
intelligences of many persons. Had Shakespeare been born on a remote
South African farm he would have been Shakespeare still; but he would
not have worn a starched frill to his shirt. The Dutch Boer is what he
is, not because he is Dutch or because he is a Boer, but because
circumstances have isolated him. The Spaniards had probably reached as
luxurious a mode of living as any European people when they achieved
their American possessions, but I have no hesitation in saying that the
Spaniards who now inhabit the ranches and remote farms of Costa Rica or
Columbia are in a poorer condition of life than the Dutch Boers of the
Transvaal. I have seen Germans located in certain unfortunate spots
about the world who have been reduced lower in the order of humanity
than any Dutchmen that I have beheld. And I have been within the houses
of English Free Settlers in remote parts of Australia which have had
quite as little to show in the way of comfort as any Boer’s homestead.
Such comparisons are only useful as showing that distance from crowded
centres will produce the same falling off in civilization among one
people as among another. The two points of interest in the matter
are,--first the actual condition of these people who have now become
British subjects, and secondly how far there is a prospect of
improvement. I am now speaking of my journey from Natal up to Pretoria.
When commencing that journey, though I had seen many Dutchmen in South
Africa I had seen none of the Boer race; and I was told that those
living near to the road would hardly be fair specimens of their kind.
There was very little on the road to assist in civilizing them and that
little had not existed long. From what I afterwards saw I am inclined to
think that the impressions first made upon me were not incorrect.
The farmers’ houses generally consisted of two main rooms, with probably
some small excrescence which would serve some of the family as a
sleeping apartment. In the living room there would be a fire-place, and
outside the house, probably at thirty or forty yards’ distance, there
would be a huge oven built. The houses would never be floored, the
uneven ground being sufficiently solid and also sufficiently clean for
the Dutchman’s purposes. There would seldom be a wall-paper or any
internal painting of the woodwork. Two solid deal tables, with solid
deal settees or benches,--not unfrequently with a locker under
them,--would be the chief furniture. There might be a chair or two, but
not more than one or two. There would always be a clock, and a not
insufficient supply of cups, saucers, and basins. Knives, forks, and
spoons would be there. The bed room of course would be a sanctum; but
my curiosity,--or diligence in the performance of the duty on which I
was intent,--enables me to say that there is always a large bedstead,
with a large feather bed, a counterpane, and apparently a pair of
sheets. The traveller in Central America will see but little of such
decencies among the Spanish farmers there.
Things in the Boer’s house no doubt are generally dirty. An earthen
floor will make everything dirty,--whether in Ireland or in the
Transvaal. The Boer’s dress is dirty,--and also, which is more
important, that of the Boeress. The little Boerlings are all dirty;--so
that, even when they are pretty, one does not wish to kiss them. The
Boers are very prolific, marrying early and living a wholesome, and I
think, a moral life. They are much given to marrying, the widow or the
widower very speedily taking another spouse, so that there will
sometimes be three or four families in the one house. The women have
children very early in life,--but then they have children very late
also; which seems to indicate that their manner of living is natural and
healthy. I have heard them ridiculed for their speedy changes of marital
affection, but it seems to me natural that a man or a woman living far
apart from neighbours should require the comfort of a companion.
I am quite convinced that they are belied by the allegation which denies
to them all progress in civilization. The continued increase in the
number of British and German storekeepers in the country, who grow rich
on their trade with the Boers, is sufficient of itself to tell one this.
Twenty years since I am assured that it was a common thing for a Boer
to be clad in skins. Now they wear woollen clothing, with calico. I
fancy that the traveller would have to travel very far before he found a
skin-clad Boer. No doubt they are parsimonious;--it might perhaps be
more fair to call them prone to save. I, personally, regard saving as a
mistake, thinking that the improvement of the world generally is best
furthered by a free use of the good things which are earned,--and that
they who do not themselves earn them should, as a rule, not have them.
It is a large question, which my readers would not thank me to discuss
here. But there are two sides to it,--and the parsimony of the Boer who
will eat up the carcase of a wild beast till it be rotten so that he
need not kill a sheep, and may thus be enabled to stock a farm for his
son, will have its admirers in Great Britain,--if not among fathers at
any rate among sons. These people are not great consumers, as are our
farmers. They wear their clothes longer, and stretch their means
further; but that the Boer of to-day consumes very much more than his
father there can be no doubt;--and as little that his sons and daughters
will consume more.
As to their educational condition I found it very difficult to ascertain
facts. The distance of these homesteads one from another makes school
teaching in many instances impossible. In some cases I found that great
efforts were made, the mother or perhaps the mother’s sister teaching
the children to read. Here and there I heard of boys and girls who were
sent long distances,--at an expense not only for teaching but for
boarding. It has, however, to be acknowledged that the education of the
country is at present very deficient. The country is now ours and when
the first rudiments of stability have been fixed, so that laws may be
administered and taxes collected, then I trust that the rulers of the
Transvaal may find themselves able to do something towards bringing
education nearer to the Boers.
I have heard the Boers spoken of as a dishonest people. I was once among
certain tradesmen of the Transvaal who asserted that it was impossible
to keep them from pilfering in the shops, one or two of them alleging
that no Boer would make a considerable purchase without relieving the
grief which was natural to him at parting with his money by pocketing
some little article gratis,--a knife, or a tobacco pipe, or perhaps a
few buttons. It was an accusation grievous to hear;--but there arose in
the company one man, also a dealer and an Englishman, who vindicated
their character, alleging that in all parts of the world petty
shop-lifting was so common an offence that the shopkeeper was forced to
take it into account in his calculations, and asserting that the
thieving Boers, few though they might be in number, would leave more
impression on the shopkeeping mind than the very many Boers who would
come in and out without perpetrating any dishonesty. I have heard the
Boers also charged with immorality,--which always means loose conduct
among the women. I am inclined to think,--though I believe but few will
share my opinion,--that social morality will always stand higher in
towns, where people are close to each other and watch narrowly the
conduct one of another, than in far-stretching pastoral districts, where
there is no one to see what is done and to question a neighbour’s
conduct. I do not suppose that feminine delicacy can stand very high
among the Boers of the Transvaal. But on the other hand, as far as I
could learn, illegitimacy is not common; and surely there never was a
people more given to the honourable practice of matrimony.
I fear that the Boer families have but few recognised amusements. In the
little towns or villages the people are given to dancing, and when they
dance they are very merry; but the Boers do not live in the villages.
The villages are but few in number over a country which is as large as
Great Britain and Ireland put together, and the Boer’s daughter who
lives six or eight miles from her nearest neighbour can have but little
dancing. The young people flirt together when they meet in the Transvaal
as they do in all the parts of the world which I have visited. Their
manner of flirting would probably be thought to be coarse by English
mothers and daughters; but then,--if my readers will remember,--so was
the manner of flirting ascribed to those most charming young ladies
Rosalind and Celia. We can hardly be entitled to expect more refinement
to-day among the Boers of South Africa than among the English of the
time of Queen Elizabeth. They are very great at making love, or
“freying” as they call it, and have their recognised forms for the
operation. A most amusing and clever young lady whom I met on my way up
to Pretoria was kind enough to describe to me at length the proper way
to engage or to attempt to engage the affections of a Boer’s daughter.
The young Boer who thinks that he wants a wife and has made up his mind
to look for one begins by riding round the country to find the article
that will suit him. On this occasion he does not trouble himself with
the hard work of courtship, but merely sees what there is within the
circle to which he extends his inspection. He will have dressed himself
with more than ordinary care so that any impression which he may make
may be favourable, and it is probable that the young ladies in the
district know what he is about. But when he has made his choice, then he
puts on his very best, and cleans his saddle or borrows a new one, and
sticks a feather in his cap, and goes forth determined to carry his
purpose. He takes with him a bottle of sugar plums,--an article in great
favour among the Boers and to be purchased at every store,--with which
to soften the heart of the mother, and a candle. Everything depends upon
the candle. It should be of wax, or of some wax-like composition; but
tallow will suffice if the proposed bride be not of very high standing.
Arrived at the door he enters, and his purpose is known at once. The
clean trowsers and the feather declare it; and the sugar plums which are
immediately brought forth,--and always consumed,--leave not a shadow of
doubt. Then the candle is at once offered to the young lady. If she
refuse it, which my informant seemed to think was unusual, then the
swain goes on without remonstrating and offers it to the next lady upon
his list. If she take it, then the candle is lighted, and the mother
retires, sticking a pin into the candle as an intimation that the young
couple may remain together, explaining their feelings to each other,
till the flame shall have come down to the pin. A little salt, I was
assured, is often employed to make the flame weak and so prolong the
happy hour. But the mother, who has perhaps had occasion to use salt in
her own time, may probably provide for this when arranging the distance
for the pin. A day or two afterwards the couple are married,--so that
there is nothing of the “nonsense” and occasional heartbreak of long
engagements. It is thus that “freying” is carried on among the Boers of
the Transvaal.
At home in England, what little is known about the Boers of South
Africa,--or I might perhaps more correctly say what little has been told
about them,--has tended to give a low notion of them as a race. And
there is also an impression that the Boer and the English Colonist are
very hostile to each other. I fear that the English Colonist does
despise the Boer, but I have not found reason to think that any such
hostility exists. Let an Englishman be where he may about the surface of
the globe, he always thinks himself superior to other men around him. He
eats more, drinks more, wears more clothes, and both earns and spends
more money. He,--and the American who in this respect is the same as an
Englishman,--always consume the wheat while others put up with the rye.
He feeds on fresh meat, while dried or salt flesh is sufficient for his
neighbours. He expects to be “boss,” while others work under him. This
is essentially so in South Africa where he is constantly brought into
contact with the Dutchman,--and this feeling of ascendancy naturally
produces something akin to contempt. There is no English farmer in South
Africa, who would not feel himself to be vilified by being put on a par
with a Dutch farmer. When an Englishman marries a Boer’s daughter, the
connexion is spoken of almost as a mésalliance. “He made a mistake and
married a Dutchwoman,” I have heard more than once. But, nevertheless,
the feeling does not amount to hostility. The Boer in a tacit way
acknowledges his own inferiority, and is conscious that the Briton is
strong enough and honest enough to do him some service by his proximity.
The man whom the Dutch Boer does hate is the Hollander, and he is the
man who does in truth despise the Boer. In the Transvaal a Hollander is
the immigrant who has come out new from Holland, whereas the Dutchman is
the descendant of those who came out two centuries since. The Dutchman
is always an Africander, or one who has been born in Africa from white
parents, and he has no sympathy whatever, no feeling of common country,
with the new comer from the old country of his forefathers. The
Hollander who thus emigrates is probably a man of no family, whereas the
old Colonist can go back with his pedigree at least for two centuries
and who thinks very much of his ancestors. The Hollander is educated and
is said to be pedantic and priggish before those who speak his own
language. And in the matter of language these new Dutchmen or Hollanders
complain much of the bad Dutch they hear in the Colony and give great
offence by such complaints.
The Boers are at present much abused for cowardice, and stories without
end are current in the country as to the manner in which they have
allowed themselves to be scared by the smallest opposition. You will be
told how a posse of twenty men sent to arrest some rebel turned and fled
wildly when the rebel drew forth from his breast and presented to them
a bottle of soda-water;--how they have got one Kafir to fight another on
their behalf and how they have turned and run when it has been expected
that they should support the Kafir and do some fighting on their own
behalf. I fear that of late there has been truth in these stories and
that the pluck shewn by them when they made good their hold upon the
country, has been greatly dimmed by the quiet uneventful tenor of their
present lives. But no one complains so bitterly of the cowardice of the
Boers as the Hollander fresh from Holland. I once ventured to take the
part of the Boers in a discussion on the subject, and referred back to
the courage of Retief, of Potgieter, and of Maritz. There was a
gentleman from Holland in the company, and I own that I thought that
politeness required me to make some defence of his Dutch brethren in his
hearing. But I found myself to be altogether in the wrong. “They are the
vilest set of worthless cowards that the world has ever produced,” said
the Dutchman angrily. I think I may say that there is no sympathy
whatsoever between the old Dutch Colonist, and the newly-arrived
immigrant from Holland.
We crossed the Vaal river at a place called Standerton or Stander’s
Drift,--drift being Dutch for a ford the word has by common usage become
English in South Africa,--as also has the word spruit for a stream. Here
there resides one General Standers from whom the place is called, an old
man who commanded a party of the Dutch at the battle of Boom Platz,
which was fought between the Boers and the British at a place so called
in the Orange Free State in 1848. If the stories told by the English be
true the Boers did not distinguish themselves by courage on the
occasion. The General is a fine old man, as upright as a maypole and
apparently as strong as an oak, about 80 years of age. He is now a most
loyal subject of the British throne, though there have been days in his
career in which the British name has not been very dear to him. He was
finely courteous to us, and asked us to drink coffee, as do all Boers
when they intend to be civil to their visitors. It should be understood
by travellers that their courtesy is very superior to their coffee. No
allusion is here made to the General’s establishment as we had not time
to partake of his hospitality. At Standerton we found coal burnt, which
had been dug about 30 miles from the place. It was good coal, burning
clearly and without much ash.
Rising up from the Vaal river to the height of about 500 feet the land
ceases to be hilly and becomes a vast rolling plain for many miles,
without a single tree, and almost without a single enclosure. We saw
numerous herds of deer, the large blesbok and the smaller springbok,
which were near enough to be reached by a rifle. They would stand at
about 400 yards from us and gaze at us. My friend had a smooth-bore gun
with large shot; but could not get near enough to them to make such a
weapon available. The country was very uninteresting,--but capable of
bearing wheat on almost every acre. Wheat however there was none, and
only here and there at very long distances a batch of arable ground
tilled for the purpose of growing forage. I have said that there were
but few enclosures. Enclosures for arable or even pastoral purposes
there were none. Perhaps three or four times in a day a Boer’s farm
would be seen from the road side, distinguished by a small group of
trees, generally weeping willows. This would look like a very small
oasis in a huge desert. Round the house or on one side of it there would
be from six to a dozen acres of land ploughed, with probably a small
orchard and sometimes an attempt at a kitchen garden. There would too be
some ditching and draining and perhaps some slight arrangement for
irrigation. The Boer’s farm-house I have already described. When
questioned the farmer invariably declared that it would not pay him to
extend his agriculture, as he had no labour on which to depend and no
market to which he could carry his wheat. Questions on such subjects
were always answered with the greatest courtesy, and I may almost say
with eagerness. I do not remember that I ever entered a Boer’s house in
which he did not seem glad to see me.
A farm in the Transvaal is supposed to contain six thousand acres. This
is so much a matter of course that when a man holds less he describes
himself as possessing half a farm, or a quarter of a farm. The land is
all private property,--or nearly so, very little of it remaining in the
hands of the Government on behalf of the people generally,--and having
been divided into these large sections, cannot now be split up into
smaller sections except by sale or inheritance. The consequence has been
and still is very prejudicial to the interests of the country. The farms
are much too large for profitable occupation, and the farmers by the
very extent of their own dominions are kept without the advantages of
neighbourhood. The people are isolated in regard to schools, churches,
and all the amenities of social life. They cannot assist each other in
the employment of labour, or create markets for the produce of one
another by their mutual wants. The boorishness of the Boer is
attributable in a great degree to the number of acres of which he is the
lord.
As we went along the road we met a detachment of the 13th regiment
marching back from Pretoria to Newcastle. There seemed to be going on a
great moving of troops hither and thither, which no doubt had been made
necessary by the annexation. And these marchings were never made without
accidents of flood and field. On this occasion sixteen waggon-oxen had
died on the road. The soldiers had to carry their tents and belongings
with them, and the bullocks therefore were essential to these movements.
When I saw the big waggons, and the dead oxen, and remembered that every
man there in a red coat had been extracted from our population at home
with the greatest difficulty, and brought to that spot at an enormous
cost, and that this had been done for no British purpose, I own that I
asked myself some questions as to the propriety of our position in the
Transvaal which I found it difficult to answer;--as for instance whether
it is necessary that the troubles of the world at large should be
composed and set to rights by the soldiers of a nation so very little
able to provide an army as Great Britain. But the severity of these
thoughts was much mitigated when the two officers in command walked
across to us while we were outspanning in the veld, and offered us
bitter beer. The Transvaal would never have known even the taste of
bitter beer had it not been for the British army. Talk of a fountain in
the desert! What fountain can be compared to that kettle full of Bass
which the orderly who followed our two new friends carried in his hand.
“Do not look at it,” said the donor as the beverage was poured out. “The
joltings of the journey have marred its brightness. But you will find
that the flavour is all there.”
The only place on the road worthy to be called a town is Heidelberg and
this does not contain above two or three hundred inhabitants. It is the
capital of a district of the same name of which the entire population is
about 2,000. The district is larger than an ordinary English county,
comprising a compact area about 80 miles long by 60 broad, and yet it is
returned as having no other village within its boundaries except the so
called town of Heidelberg. But the place has an air of prosperity about
it and contains two or three mercantile firms which are really doing a
large business. In these places the shops, or stores, are very much more
extensive than would be any such depôts in English villages of the same
size;--so much so that comfortable fortunes may be made in a
comparatively short time. As the Boers are the chief customers, it is
evident that they are learning to spend their money, and are gradually
departing from the old Boer law that the farm should supply everything
needed for life.
At Heidelberg we found a good Inn,--a good Inn that is for the
Transvaal:--but the landlord at once told us that he had got no forage.
Our first work therefore was to go about into the town and beg. This we
did successfully, a merchant of the place consenting to let us have
enough for our immediate requirements, out of his private store. But for
this we must have used the reserve supply we carried with us, and have
gone on upon our road to look for more.
The Inn I have said was good. There was a large room in which a public
table was kept and at which a very good dinner was provided at half-past
six, and a very good breakfast at eight the next morning. There was a
pretty little sitting room within which any lady might make herself
comfortable. The bed and bedroom were clean and sweet. But there was
only one bed tendered for the use of two of us, and a slight feeling
seemed to exist that we were fastidious in requiring more. As more was
not forthcoming my unfortunate companion had to lie upon the ground.
At Heidelberg we were nearly on the highest table ground of the
Transvaal. From thence there is a descent to Pretoria,--not great indeed
for Pretoria is 4,450 feet above the sea,--but sufficient to produce an
entire change of climate. On the High Veld, as it is called, the
characteristics of the country are all those belonging to the temperate
zone,--such, indeed, as are the characteristics of our own country at
home. Wheat will grow if planted in the late autumn and will ripen in
the summer. But as the hill is turned, down to Pretoria, tropical
influences begin to prevail. Apples are said to thrive well, but so also
do oranges. And wheat will not live through the droughts of the winter
without irrigation. Irrigation for wheat must be costly, and
consequently but little wheat is grown. Wheat sown in the spring is, I
am told, subject to rust. Mealies, or Indian corn, will thrive here,
and almost all kinds of fruit. The gardens produce all kinds of
vegetables, when irrigation is used.
We descended into Pretoria through a “poort” or opening between the
hills and the little town with its many trees smiled upon us in the sun.
It lies in a valley on a high plateau, just as Grahamstown does, and is
surrounded by low hills. As we were driven into the town I congratulated
myself on having come to the end of my journey. To reach Pretoria had
been my purpose, and now I was at Pretoria. My further troubles would be
confined to my journey home which I intended to commence after a week’s
delay at the capital of our new Colony. Hitherto my work had been not
very uncomfortable and certainly not unprosperous.