I am glad to notice, however, that at last proper advantage of this vast field for the propagation of the truths of the Gospel is about to be taken.

One important point must not be overlooked: every man in Kimberley even now is but a bird of passage, merely drawn by the chance of making money quickly as the first arrivals were, and then escaping from a place which possesses very few social attractions, and, in respect of natural beauty and comfort of dwellings, none—the impossibility of getting away felt by some, the desire for further accumulations evinced by others, keeping together a mixed and heterogeneous population such as could scarcely be found in any other country.

The rising generation is mostly to be pitied, doomed to spend their young lives in a place which in South Africa at least can only be exceeded in wretchedness by the Namaqualand copper mines. No trees, no grass, no carolling birds, no rippling brooks. Nature seems paralyzed or dead. No wonder the seeds of early piety are all blown to the winds, when God’s day is desecrated by the sight of the open offices in the diamond market (although fortunately on that day no business can be legally transacted), by the noise of continuous blasting in the mines, and the sight of railway drays laden with fruit and flowers running through the streets. At times the man of strong religious instincts feels sick at heart, and for the moment thinks that money alone is thought of—Regina Pecunia, the “Almighty Dollar,” the sole deity adored.

CHAPTER XXVII.
LAW AND LAWYERS ON THE FIELDS.—LAW IN THE EARLY DAYS.—ABSENCE OF CRIME AT THAT EPOCH.—THE MUTUAL HALL.—MAGISTERIAL JURISDICTION.—THE ATTORNEY-GENERALSHIP.—ATTORNEYS AND LAW AGENTS.—A SUDDEN DEATH.—CURIOUS NOMENCLATURE OF KAFIRS.—THE FATE OF “BRANDY AND SODA.”

Dean Swift says: “Law is a bottomless pit; it is a cormorant, a harpy that drowns everything.” And believing implicitly in his words, I will not weary my readers with any elaborate disquisition on the legislative enactments, etc., which served to make up the law under which we lived in the early days of the Diamond Fields. Suffice it to say, that to me it seemed a very medley of inconsistency, an olla podrida, a thing of shreds, of patches, making “confusion worse confounded.” Roman, Dutch, English Common. Colonial Statute Law and Proclamations of the local government were blended—no, I should rather say flung together in a fashion so devoid of system as to be absolutely chaotic. The laws of Griqualand West since annexation are now identical with Colonial Laws, with the exception of a few local enactments, but at the time they were sui generis, or rather, if I may be allowed, omnium genorum, homogeneity being remarkable for its entire absence. It speaks well for the contented nature of the diggers, that complaints against this anomalous condition of things were so little rife.

In the early days, a genuine brotherly feeling reigned among the diggers at Colesberg Kopje (Kimberley Mine), and though of course an occasional quarrel would arise, yet as a rule there was universal amity existing.

Such a crime as robbery was, for a long time, scarcely known. The digger left his tent all day with the entrance flaps merely tied down, and returned at night from his work in the mine with no apprehension as to the security of his goods and chattels. In those halcyon days, with scarcely an exception, the natives, who are often unjustly accused of naturally possessing thieving propensities, established the falsehood of the charge by living an honest and laborious life, faithfully carrying out their master’s behests, and never robbing him of a single splint.[[93]]

It is my firm conviction, (and it will be admitted that I have had extensive opportunities of judging), that the native laborers, who have been flocking at the rate of 30,000 per annum to the Diamond Fields, are, as a rule, sober, upright, and virtuous before they have been corrupted by the white men, who induce them to steal, or are demoralized by drinking the liquor supplied them by white men. Had it not been for the unscrupulous scoundrels who first introduced illicit diamond buying, and for the almost indiscriminate sale of liquor to natives, they would in all probability be still as honest as at the early period, when, except in trivial assault cases, they were very rarely brought before the Court.

Kimberley, at this time, was without any building set apart as a High Court. When the Judge came from Barkly on circuit, he sat in a large building called the Mutual Hall, which used to serve a variety of purposes, being fitted up for theatrical entertainments, which were frequently given there, while religions services were also held in it from time to time. I remember a trial for murder taking place in this building before Mr. Recorder Barry, the first judge on the Diamond Fields. The alleged facts of the case were briefly as follows: The accused, a man and a woman, had thrown the husband of the latter down the mine—the supposed motive for the crime being that a guilty intrigue which existed between them might be continued without interference. The discovery of certain suspicious circumstances had led to their arrest and committal.