Chapter Twenty.
We at last reached a cool, inviting-looking hotel, and we thoroughly enjoyed that well-served dinner laid before us on clean linen and bright silver, the delicious viands seeming all the better for our temporary deprivation. If any one troubled with dyspepsia should travel for three months through Africa, and live as the people do, never hurrying, and occasionally getting a jolting in a long coach ride, his would soon be a forgotten malady.
Bloemfontein, being the seat of government, is by far the largest, best, and most important town in the Free State. It is a very pretty town, well planted with trees, the streets wide, the houses well built, and an air of cleanliness pervading everything. It nestles at the base of a long, low mountain, one of a range of hills that fade away in the distance and form a pretty picture in the red and golden tints thrown by the rays of the setting sun. It looks like a pretty toy town.
Many of the leading men both here and elsewhere through the country are Germans, and excellent colonists they make. To be sure, we found a number of adventurers of the same nationality of a totally different sort, agitators and demagogues. There are, indeed, many who say that it is owing to the German element in the Transvaal that the dissensions existing in the country are directly owing. But the greater number are good citizens, readily adopting the country and state in which they live as their own, and training up their children to protect its interests. An enterprising German is the leading dry goods merchant in this upper country. His storerooms were stocked with merchandise, from hardware to the finest laces. His home was in the midst of well-kept grounds, laid out like a park, in which were planted many Australian gum trees. These are trees which, with a little care, grow thriftily and to a great height wherever they are planted in Africa.
On one of our drives in the neighbouring country we drove to the farm of the merchant, and chanced to meet him there. He had planted hundreds of young trees on his large farm, mere saplings. We remarked, “Why do you pay so much attention to the planting of these slips of trees? They grow so slowly they will never give much shade during the lifetime of any of us.”
“Well, well,” he replied, “the children of the next generation may come out here from B— and enjoy their picnics under the trees I have planted for them.” We found the same spirit among most of the German land-owners. They propose for the sake of their children to make no mistakes.
Among the first settlers were German missionaries, who have in time amassed wealth and founded schools, built churches, and assisted in making the laws of this successful little republic. The town is largely given over to educational and religious establishments. The English Episcopal and Roman Catholic churches have each a bishopric and a cathedral. The former is very active, particular attention being paid to the college and schools attached to it. One of the institutions connected with the English church is the “Home,” carried on by the sisters of the church, who come from England to assist in the schools and hospitals, most of them being ladies of fortune and culture. The good that has been effected through them and their institutions cannot be computed by figures. They dress like the French sisters of the Roman Catholic Church. Although every now and then one of them marries, as a rule they do not marry. They live lives of strict self-denial.
The Roman Catholic Church is a large structure, with a convent and school attached. We listened to an excellent sermon here during the visit of the Bishop, and heard some good music, as the tenor brother had a fine voice, and travelled, it was said, with the Bishop. The nuns’ voices were very sweet, one especially having such a sad, plaintive tone that it made the listener wish to see the face hidden behind the grating.
Many English visitors go to Bloemfontein for the benefit of their health, but they do not look so robust nor gain strength as quickly as persons who have been six months in the Transvaal. The fine climate of that country, if sought in time, is almost a certain cure for any lung disease or asthmatic trouble. The dry climate of this upland region cannot be too highly extolled, and the best way to gain the full benefit of it is to try the primitive mode of travelling by ox-wagon. This, however, should be done as comfortably as possible, and during the dry season. The hotels in Bloemfontein and the Transvaal are so superior in point of comfort and table to those in the colony that they are greatly appreciated by the tired invalid. Our hotel parlour had a fine Brussels carpet on the floor, tinted walls, comfortable and handsome furniture, a Bimsmead piano, and lace curtains.
During the several hot months we were there we had an opportunity of studying the characteristics of the Dutch Boer, who is met with in this part of the country in his primitive state. The Africander Boer is usually a tall, lanky, narrow-chested individual, with black hair, straggling beard and whiskers, cautious, suspicious, and undemonstrative, his countenance expressing little imagination and his body great physical endurance. He is never quarrelsome if it can be avoided; he is as shrewd at a bargain as any Scotchman, and in all his dealings displays an odd mixture of cunning and credulity. His contradictory history, however, makes it difficult to determine whether he is a brave man or the reverse.
He is usually dressed in a yellow cord jacket, vest and trousers, with a flannel shirt, and veldt schoen (low shoes of untanned leather with no heels), the whole surmounted by a broad-brimmed slouch hat with a green lining. When he wishes to be particularly fine, as, for instance, when he goes a-courting, he sticks an ostrich feather in his hat, squeezes his long feet into a pair of patent leather congress gaiters, and encases his legs in showy leather leggings. He then mounts a horse that “kop-spiels,” gets into a new saddle with a sheepskin saddle cloth, and imagines himself just lovely!
