of the mines, I envied. He had some of the best placed claims in
Kimberley and did splendidly until he got through the yellow ground
and struck the blue ground, the bedrock as most people believed it to
be. He was a clever man and sharp--perhaps some people would call him
‘sharper’--so he obliged a friend by finding a dumping ground in his
claims for some worthless yellow. He then sold his claims for whatever
he could get--four hundred pounds, I think it was--and cleared before
the expected storm could burst on his head. But these claims were among
the first to prove that the blue was the true diamond ground, and he
could not have bought them back for forty thousand pounds. The man is
still living, and very poor, after a life’s hard work; but, Oh! he was
so clever and so sharp! What? You suppose that I bought those claims
for the four hundred pounds? No, I am sorry to say I never had the
chance. I knew that the blue had been reached there, that the yellow
ground had been dumped in to cover up, and I wondered what was coming
next. The acts of an able man can be foreseen when his surroundings are
known, but who can fathom the folly of a fool? I would have given eight
thousand pounds for those claims, and they went to a new comer for four
hundred pounds!”
* * * * *
An actor who visited the Rand in the early days relates the following
anecdote:--
“As we came to Johannesburg from Kimberley by coach, we met the
returning coach at some miserable stopping place with an unpronouncable
name, and found it crowded with Lionel Brough and his company. We
fraternised, of course, at once, and amongst the questions asked and
answered as to prospects of business, theatre accommodation, etc., we
learnt that Brough had with him a quantity of scenery and props which
he did not want, but had been unable to sell at Johannesburg. At that
moment Mr. “Barney” Barnato drove up on his way back to Kimberley, and
at once joined us. He was always a good friend to the profession, and
out there with the heavy travelling expenses between the mining camps,
the hard work, and the other uncertainties, we often wanted such a
friend then. When he heard of the scenery, he said: ‘Come on, Brough,
I’ll put it up to auction.’ We all adjourned to the open veld, all the
cloths and props were spread out to view, and the sale commenced. It
was one of the most amusing things I ever saw. Barnato made of it a
monologue, in the style of Charles Mathews, even to that ‘now let me
get a word in edgeways’ in ‘My Awful Dad,’ and bought in everything
himself. We all enjoyed the joke tremendously, but, to our great
surprise, he paid Brough the really good prices at which he had knocked
the lots down, and made them a present to us in the most kind manner
at the very last moment as he drove away. Many a professional has been
indebted to Barnato for personal kindness that the world will never
know of.”
* * * * *
South Africans will no doubt be highly amused at the following
incident, related by Madame Albani in her book, “Forty Years of
Song”:--
“I visited the famous diamond mines at Kimberley, and here I
had an interesting experience. The Zulu miners gave me a very
cordial reception, and after they had indulged in some native
dances for my entertainment, one of them came up and said:
‘Lady, please sing.’ A chair was brought, and there, in the
middle of the compound, with the Zulus squatting all round
me, I sang “Home, Sweet Home.” At the end the Zulus applauded
uproariously, and accompanied me to the gate, dancing and
shouting like madmen. It was a most curious scene, and very
impressive.”
* * * * *
The following message was received by the Officer Commanding Caesar’s
Camp from the Chief of Staff:--“The General Officer Commanding has left
to visit you via Wagon Hill. He intends to resume former position as
soon as _dead_ and _wounded_ are buried, but will strengthen
Caesar’s Camp by Rifle Brigade.”
* * * * *
Until the last Mr. Rhodes held the opinion that there would be no war.
It was on account of this that his brother, Colonel Frank Rhodes,
sent the following message to him on Christmas Day, 1899, when Mr.
Rhodes was amongst the besieged in Kimberley:--“Happy Christmas! How
thoroughly you misunderstood the situation!”
* * * * *
During the military operations in connection with the siege of
Ladysmith, a letter was found on a captured Boer prisoner--apparently
from a daughter in Ladysmith--which contained the following:--
PROGRAMME.
SIEGE THEATRE OF VARIETIES,
LADYSMITH.
SECOND GRAND PROMENADE CONCERT.
Under the auspices of the Naval Volunteers,
Tuesday, December 25th, 1899.
Under the Booming Patronage and in the
presence of
“SILENT SUE.”
“BULWAN BILL.”
“POM POM.”
“WEARY WILLIE.”
And others who, since last concert--through
circumstances over which they
had no control--are unable to take an
active part.
Concert to commence at 7.45 p.m.
Bunny Holes at 9.45.
* * * * *
One morning, when going along to a race meeting, the late Mr. Barnato
struck up an acquaintance with a man at the starting station, had
a drink with him, and then in the crush for the train they were
separated. He got into a carriage with three of the “sharp” fraternity,
who marked him for their own. Arrived at their destination, his first
acquaintance saw the party get out of the carriage, and, coming hastily
up to one of them, said:--“Here, you leave him alone; he is my bird.”
“Oh! he is, is he?” was the rejoinder. “Well, you are welcome to him,
for he got all our money.” Before reaching the course, Barnato returned
the sharps their money, saying: “Here, it is bad enough for you chaps
to have lost your railway fare. I don’t want your money, but don’t mark
Barney Barnato down for a mug again.”
* * * * *
In the early days of the Diamond Fields, when the evils resulting from
an uncontrolled supply of liquor to natives were rampant, the following
lines appeared in a Kimberley paper:
The best of all methods, so others maintain,
To free them from ignorance’s yoke,
And enable them civilised freedom to gain,
Is simply to give them Cape Smoke;
When mixed with tobacco, red pepper and lime,
With dagga and vitriol, too,
The draught is delicious, enchanting, sublime,
Why, it even would civilise _you_:
* * * * *
In order to evade the I.D.B. Laws, it was the custom among the buyers
in Kimberley to give a “reward” of 25 per cent. to their native
servants for each diamond they brought as a reputed find while working,
“which,” as Dr. J. W. Matthews says in his book, “Incwadi Yami,” “was,
of course, merely another mode of buying from natives without fear
of detection.” This custom gave rise to the following lines, which
appeared in a Kimberley paper some forty years ago:--
I would not be a digger. No,
Nor yet an I.D.B.
In digging oft your moneys go,
The other’s felony.
But then, upon the other hand,
I should be quite content
If I only was a nigger, and
Got 25 per cent.
I’d not be a shareholder, or
Hold Atlas’s or Frere’s;
I am not even pining for
The scrip of great De Beer’s.
In Kimberley the debts expand,
The loan, it isn’t lent;
So I’d rather be a nigger, and
Get 25 per cent.
I would not be a Chairman, or
Director of a Board,
For then I could not buy nice pipes,
Nor good Cape Smoke afford;
I might get nasty writs perhaps
When all my coin was spent:
I’d rather be a nigger, and
Get 25 per cent.
I wouldn’t be a Searcher, and
I wouldn’t be the Chief;
I wouldn’t hold the contract for
Removal of the reef;
I wouldn’t be Izdebski, and
I wouldn’t crime prevent;
I’d rather be a nigger, and
Get 25 per cent.
I wouldn’t be a Secretary
nor a Manager,
To be a toiling Overseer
I’d very much demur;
I wouldn’t build a crusher,
Nor such paltry things prevent;
I’d rather be a nigger, and
Get 25 per cent.
I wouldn’t be proprietor
Of far-famed Kamfer’s Dam,
Nor even Chairman of the French,
For all’s not real jam.
I’d scarcely purchase Centrals,
But I never would repent
If only I was a nigger, and
Got 25 per cent.
I would not be an Hemporor,
I wouldn’t be a King,
I wouldn’t be a Hadmiral,
Or hany sich a thing;
I wouldn’t be in Lowe’s Police
And live inside a tent;
I’d rather be a nigger, and
Get 25 per cent.
* * * * *
In 1882, on account of the proximity of the Free State border to the
Diamond Fields, a very stringent law was passed in that State to
suppress illicit diamond buying. The judges, however, interpreted the
law not to extend beyond six miles from proclaimed diamond diggings.
This inspired a local poet to write as follows:--
Over the Free State line
Whatever is yours is mine.
If I’ve a stone,
It’s all my own,
No John Fry shall make me groan
Over the Free State line,
I’ll never have cause to pine,
The I.D.B. is happy and free
Over the Free State line.
* * * * *
In the early days of the Diamond Fields when many made fortunes by
illicit diamond buying, the following song was most popular in the
Kimberley music-halls:--
I’m shortly about to retire,
Then to Flo, of course, I’ll be wed,
I shall do the thing fine, buy shares in a mine,
Or else float a company instead.
I’ll, of course, have a carriage and pair,
And later I shall not despair,
In the council I’ll get, and if _you_ wait a bit,
No doubt you will see me made mayor.
* * * * *
The feeling of indignation which the retrocession of the Transvaal,
after the defeat at Majuba, gave rise amongst the British colonists
found expression in the following notice, posted up outside a hotel in
Ladysmith:--
Sacred to the Memory of
HONOUR,
The beloved wife of John Bull.
She died in the Transvaal, and was
buried at Candahar, March, 1881.
Her end was PEACE.
* * * * *
A farmer called at a certain magistrate’s office to ask for a permit
to move cattle. Whilst the permit was being written out the farmer sat
down in the office and began to expectorate upon the floor. “Dirty
beast!” muttered the official. “Nie, nie,” interposed the farmer, “nie,
dertig beeste nie, maar twentig.” (No, no, not thirty cattle, only
twenty.)
* * * * *
When Cecil Rhodes died there were some friends of Sir Abe Bailey who
declared that the mantle of Rhodes had descended to Abe Bailey. About
this time, Mr. Samuel Marks met Sir Abe Bailey and said to him: “What’s
this I hear about you having taken over Rhodes’s mantle?” “Well,”
replied Sir Abe, “they are good enough to say so.” “Take my advice,
then,” replied Mr. Marks, “and leave it alone. I’ve dealt in old
clothes myself, and know they don’t always fit.”
* * * * *
At Stellenbosch everybody sleeps in the afternoon. Many years ago a
Stellenbosch burgher consulted his physician for insomnia. “At what
hour of the night do you suffer most?” asked the doctor. “Oh, it is not
in the night that I suffer,” was the reply. “I sleep well at night; but
I sometimes find it difficult to get my full afternoon’s sleep.”
* * * * *
An amusing incident is related by Sir Henry Juta, K.C., arising out of
the similarity of the Dutch word “keuken,” meaning kitchen, and the
Afrikaans word “kuiken,” meaning chicken. Sir Henry and some other
barristers were on circuit, and were dining at a Dutch farm house. The
hostess apologised for the dinner not being all that it should have
been owing to something having gone wrong with the culinary department.
Sir Henry said to her:--“Het spijt mij, mevrouw, te hooren dat daar
iets met de keuken makeert.” (“I am sorry to hear, madam, that there
is something wrong with the ‘keuken’ (kitchen).” The lady folded her
arms and drew herself up, and said, coldly:--“Nie, meneer Juta, met die
kuikens makeer daar nix nie.” (“No, Mr. Juta, there is nothing wrong
with the chickens.”) Apparently chickens formed part of the _menu_.
* * * * *
Sir Theophilus Shepstone related the following story. In 1835,
Colonel--afterwards Sir Harry--Smith, when commanding the troops in
Grahamstown, always read part of the service on Sunday morning, and
was so particular that all should come that he imposed a fine of
half-a-crown on every absentee. He read extremely well, and was very
proud of it. One Sunday a dog came into the room where the service was
going on and began to create a disturbance. Colonel Smith stood it for
a little while; then, in the middle of a prayer, said suddenly: “Take
that d----d dog away,” after which he continued his prayer in the same
tone as before.
* * * * *
In the early fifties, when Lord Grey was Secretary of State for the
Colonies, the unpopularity of his policy amongst all sections in South
Africa gave rise to the following epigram:--
This point was long disputed at the Cape,
What was the devil’s colour and his shape.
The Hottentots, of course, declared him white;
The Englishman pronounced him black as night.
But now they split the difference, and say,
Beyond all question that Old Nick is Grey.
* * * * *
Once President Kruger was one of a party amongst whom a competition
arose as to who could tell the tallest yarn. This is the yarn the
President related:--“I was outspanned with my wife and family by the
banks of a river, when some elephants came down in the cool of the
evening to drink. One of them, while engaged in quenching his thirst,
had his trunk seized by a crocodile. The sagacious animal immediately
withdrew from the water, the crocodile maintaining its hold. Two other
elephants belonging to the troop formed up, the one on the right, the
other on the left of the attacked animal, and proceeded until they came
to a spot where two trees had grown close together. The one elephant
then pulled the nearest tree towards him, and his fellow, the parallel
one, while the wounded animal deposited the crocodile between the
trunks. The trees swung together, causing the crocodile to release its
hold, and it was left to do the best it could for itself.”
When the President had told his tale, another of the party gave the
following shooting yarn:--The family were on trek and had been very
unfortunate in the pursuit of game, which was scarce. They were without
meat, and the father decided to have a look round for himself. The
shades of evening were falling when he secured a fat buck, and promptly
returned home. Amid the murmurs of congratulation from the others were
naturally many enquiries as to how he had shot it. He explained that
the buck was just going over a rise into a dip, when he fired and
bowled it over. To his surprise, he found that the bullet had entered
the hoof, passed right through the leg, then through the back and head,
and emerged at the right eye. The President had to admit that his tale
had been fairly capped.
* * * * *
In the early days of the Rand Gold Fields the Transvaal Government
generously granted four stands to each of the various Christian
denominations for the erection of places of worship. The Jewish
community, however, received only two stands. At this the Jews felt
aggrieved, and a deputation was sent to Pretoria to interview President
Kruger with a view to getting the grievance removed. The President
listened attentively to the deputation, then shook his head and
said:--“No, I don’t think you have a legitimate grievance. You see, you
only believe in half the Bible, so it is only right you should have
half the number of stands. When you accept the other half of the Bible,
I shall be glad to let you have two more stands.”
* * * * *
When Sir Thomas Upington was practising at the Bar, he came into Court
one day during the progress of a cattle-stealing case. The skins of the
stolen cattle had all been produced in Court, and as they were several
weeks old it made the atmosphere of the Court rather stuffy. Sir Thomas
sniffed a bit and then said, _sotto voce_: “I suppose its all
those rotten judgments.”
* * * * *
Sir Henry Juta (“Reminiscences of the Western Circuit”) says that the
following incident actually happened. A girl married a rich farmer,
who died some six months after, and as the couple had been married
in community of property, she was left a wealthy widow. According
to the usual practice, she was present at his funeral, and as they
were returning from the graveside a former admirer approached her and
proposed that they should make one flock of their sheep and goats,
_i.e._, marry. The fair widow replied with much feeling:--“Dit
spijt, mij Jan, maar toe ons naar de begrafenis gegaan het ik het ver
Piet Potgieter mij jaawoord gegee.” (“I am sorry, John, but as we
went to the funeral I gave my promise (literally, yes-word) to Piet
Potgieter.”) Sir Henry Juta adds that this story, like so many others,
has been subjected to emendation. It now runs that the executor of
her husband’s estate proposed to her when returning from the funeral,
and the widow replied that going to it she had become engaged to the
undertaker.
* * * * *
Many years ago a certain farmer in the Cape Colony engaged an overseer.
The latter was an excellent worker, but was more intimate with the
farmer’s wife than the farmer thought proper, having often found them
sitting together on the sofa. The farmer then went to the magistrate
for advice. “You should give your wife a good talking to,” advised the
magistrate. The farmer only too well knew the futility of acting on
this advice, and said so. “Well, then,” said the magistrate, “get rid
of the overseer.” “That I can’t do,” objected the farmer, “because he
is such a good worker.” A few weeks later the magistrate met the farmer
again, and, noticing the happy expression on his countenance, remarked:
“Ah, so you’ve got rid of the overseer.” “Nie,” replied the farmer,
with a look of expressive contempt for the magistrate’s brains, “ik het
de sofa verkoopt.” (“No, I have sold the sofa.”)
* * * * *
Two sons jointly inherited a farm from their father. They worked it
together for some time, then a disagreement arose between them and
they decided to divide the farm. They could not, however, agree as to
the manner of division, and, after much argument, they decided to
submit their case to the arbitration of President Kruger. The President
listened attentively to all the points raised by each of the brothers,
and then gave the following decision:--“You, Jan, the elder, shall
divide the farm in two portions; and you, Piet, the younger, shall have
the first choice as to which portion you will take.”
[Illustration]
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been corrected
silently.