And now, leaving Sierra Leone, our good ship makes for the Cape of Good Hope, passing, mostly far out at sea, down that coast along which the Portuguese mariners crept so cautiously yet so surely till Diaz and Da Gama reached South Africa, while the latter showed them the way to the fabled Cathaia, the Orient—India, China, and the Spice Islands.
In the year 1486 “The Cape” of capes par excellence, which rarely nowadays bears its full title, was discovered by Bartholomew de Diaz, a commander in the service of John II. of Portugal. He did not proceed to the eastward of it, and it was reserved for the great Vasco da Gama—afterwards the first Viceroy of India—an incident in whose career forms, by-the-by, the plot of L’Africaine, Meyerbeer’s grand opera, to double it. It was called at first Cabo Tormentoso—“the Cape of Storms”—but by royal desire was changed to that of “Buon Esperanza”—“Good Hope”—the title it still bears. Cape Colony was acquired by Great Britain in 1620, although for a long time it was practically in the hands of the Dutch, a colony having been planted by their East India Company. The Dutch held it in this way till 1795, when the territory was once more taken by our country. It was returned to the Dutch at the Peace of Amiens, only to be snatched from them again in 1806, and finally confirmed to Britain at the general peace of 1815.
The population, including the Boers, or farmers of Dutch descent, Hottentots, Kaffirs, and Malays, is not probably over 600,000, while the original territory is about 700 miles long by 400 wide, having an area of not far from 200,000 square miles. The capital of the colony is Cape Town, lying at the foot, as every schoolboy knows, of the celebrated Table Mountain.
A recent writer, Mr. Boyle,[117] speaks cautiously of Cape Town and its people. There are respectable, but not very noticeable, public buildings. “Some old Dutch houses there are, distinguishable chiefly by a superlative flatness and an extra allowance of windows. The population is about 30,000 souls, white, black, and mixed. I should incline to think more than half fall into the third category. They seem to be hospitable and good-natured in all classes.... There is complaint of slowness, indecision, and general ‘want of go’ about the place. Dutch blood is said to be still too apparent in business, in local government, and in society. I suppose there is sound basis for these accusations, since trade is migrating so rapidly towards the rival mart of Port Elizabeth.... But ten years ago the entire export of wool passed through Cape Town. Last year, as I find in the official returns, 28,000,000 lbs. were shipped at the eastern port out of the whole 37,000,000 lbs. produced in the colony. The gas-lamps, put up by a sort of coup d’état in the municipality, were not lighted until last year, owing to the opposition of the Dutch town councillors. They urged that decent people didn’t want to be out at night, and the ill-disposed didn’t deserve illumination. Such facts seem to show that the city is not quite up to the mark in all respects.”
Simon’s Bay, near Table Bay, where Cape Town is situated, is a great rendezvous for the navy; there are docks and soldiers there, and a small town. The bay abounds in fish. The Rev. John Milner, chaplain of the Galatea, says that during the visit of Prince Alfred, “large shoals of fish (a sort of coarse mackerel) were seen all over the bay; numbers came alongside, and several of them were harpooned with grains by some of the youngsters from the accommodation-ladder. Later in the day a seal rose, and continued fishing and rising in the most leisurely manner. At one time it was within easy rifle distance, and might have been shot from the ship.”[118] Fish and meat are so plentiful in the colony that living is excessively cheap.
CAPE TOWN.
The visit of his Royal Highness the Sailor Prince, in 1867, will long be remembered in the colony. That, and the recent diamond discoveries, prove that the people cannot be accused of sloth and want of enterprise. On arrival at Simon’s Bay, the first vessels made out were the Racoon, on which Prince Alfred had served his time as lieutenant, the Petrel, just returned from landing poor Livingstone at the Zambesi, and the receiving-ship Seringapatam. Soon followed official visits, dinner, ball, and fireworks from the ships. When the Prince was to proceed to Cape Town, all the ships fired a royal salute, and [pg 206]the fort also, as he landed at the jetty, where he was received by a guard of honour of the 99th Regiment. A short distance from the landing-place, at the entrance to the main street, was a pretty arch, decorated with flowering shrubs, and the leaves of the silver-tree. On his way to this his Royal Highness was met by a deputation from the inhabitants of Simon’s Town and of the Malay population. “This was a very interesting sight; the chief men, dressed in Oriental costumes, with bright-coloured robes and turbans, stood in front, and two of them held short wands decorated with paper flowers of various colours. The Duke shook hands with them, and then they touched him with their wands. They seemed very much pleased, and looked at him in an earnest and affectionate manner. Several of the Malays stood round with drawn swords, apparently acting as a guard of honour. The crowd round formed a very motley group of people of all colours—negroes, brown Asiatics, Hottentots, and men, women, and children of every hue. The policemen had enough to do to keep them back as they pressed up close round the Duke.” After loyal addresses had been received, and responded to, the Prince and suite drove off for Cape Town, the ride to which is graphically described by the chaplain and artist of the expedition. “The morning was very lovely. Looking to seaward was the Cape of Good Hope, Cape Hanglip, and the high, broken shores of Hottentot Holland, seen over the clear blue water of the bay. The horses, carriages, escort with their drawn swords, all dashing at a rattling pace along the sands in the bright sunshine, and the long lines of small breakers on the beach, was one of the most exhilarating sights imaginable. In places the cavalcade emerged from the sands up on to where the road skirts a rocky shore, and where at this season of the year beautiful arum lilies and other bright flowers were growing in the greatest profusion. About four miles from Simon’s Bay, we passed a small cove, called Fish-hook Bay, where a few families of Malay fishermen reside. A whale they had killed in the bay the evening before lay anchored ready for ‘cutting in.’ A small flag, called by whalers a ‘whiff,’ was sticking up in it. We could see from the road that it was one of the usual southern ‘right’ whales which occasionally come into Simon’s Bay, and are captured there. After crossing the last of the sands, we reached Kalk Bay, a collection of small houses where the people from Cape Town come to stay in the summer. As we proceeded, fresh carriages of private individuals and horsemen continued to join on behind, and it was necessary to keep a bright look-out to prevent them rushing in between the two carriages containing the Duke and Governor, with their suites. Various small unpretending arches (every poor man having put up one on his own account), with flags and flowers, spanned the road in different places between Simon’s Town and Farmer Peck’s, a small inn about nine miles from the anchorage, which used formerly to have the following eccentric sign-board:—
‘THE GENTLE SHEPHERD OF SALISBURY PLAIN.
‘FARMER PECKS.