Then the white man’s city began to rise from the veldt, hard by the burnt kraal of Lobengula. Towards the close of the war I travelled in an ox-waggon with some Boer transport riders from the Marico Valley in the Transvaal—about thirty miles from Mafeking—to Bulawayo. This beautiful valley (“the Granary of the Transvaal”) was the old home of Moselekatse, Lobengula’s father. It was a fat land; there is none so rich for a hundred leagues around; for tribes of Zulu blood will establish themselves in none but the best country, and they will trek far to find it. The rolling land of Marico is as fertile as it is beautiful. It is as green as Devon, and the pretty farmhouses of the prosperous people are scattered among rich pastures, great fields of corn, and fruit orchards. Fifty years ago the Boers and their Baralong allies drove Moselekatse and his raiding warriors out of Marico, and sent them trekking north to seek a new home. So northward they travelled, murdering and cattle-lifting as they went, traversing good country, but not such as would satisfy the Zulu, until at last, nearly five hundred miles from Marico, they came to a land even more favoured than that they had left, and settled down in what is now called Matabeleland. I followed their route, and could then understand their choice. Fair indeed to the eye appears the green, well-watered high veldt of Matabeleland as the traveller from the south opens it out on reaching the watershed between the Crocodile and the Zambesi rivers. Lieutenant Maund, who some years before had been sent to spy out Matabeleland, with justice reported that, “when compared to the country south of it, it was as Canaan after the wilderness.” When I reached the place where Bulawayo, with its stately buildings, now stands, I found a few hundred white men occupying a little temporary settlement of native huts and tattered tents that had sprung up round the newly-constructed fort; the building of the modern city had not commenced. A little later I was present at the first auction of township stands. The alternate land lots bearing even numbers, lining one side of what was to be the chief street, were sold. They fetched about £50 apiece. A few months afterwards the alternate stands bearing odd numbers were sold by auction; they all fetched over £400 apiece, the highest price realised being £900. Some of the stands, that could have been purchased for £50 each in 1893, are at the present time worth six or seven thousand pounds apiece, and realise that price when put on the market. I quote these figures to show that whatever critics at home may think of the future of Rhodesia, those on the spot have confidence in it. The Matabele War was scarcely over before the volunteers, having received their mining, farm, and loot rights, scattered over the country to prospect and peg out their claims. It was wonderful to observe how quickly, under Dr. Jameson’s able administration, everything was put in order, and Matabeleland began to assume the aspect of a settled country. Bulawayo was soon a fine city, having its water-works, electric lighting, hospitals, public schools, its imposing court-house and other handsome public buildings. Townships sprang up like mushrooms all over the high veldt in the vicinity of the gold-bearing reefs. The population rapidly increased. The Chartered Company, in the meanwhile, pushed on the railway from Mafeking towards Bulawayo, proceeded to construct the line from Umtali to Beira, and quickly placed Bulawayo into telegraphic communication with the outer world. And now there was every sign of prosperity; the development of the gold mines gave encouraging results; trade was good; the value of the land for farming was proved, and excellent crops were raised; Rhodesia’s future seemed assured. But it was fated that its progress should be retarded by an extraordinary succession of disasters; surely no new country was ever so sorely tried.
All was going well until the early part of 1896, when the first of its many scourges swept down on the unhappy land—the dreaded rinderpest came from the North, and despite every precaution that could be taken to prevent its spreading, it destroyed over 90 per cent. of the cattle in the country, and played like havoc among the wild game. It is difficult for one who was not in Rhodesia at the time to realise the magnitude of this misfortune. As this was a land then entirely dependent upon oxen for transport, a stoppage was put to agricultural and mining operations; and the cattle-owning native population suffered greatly. Before the rinderpest broke out the average price of an ox in Rhodesia was £6, and now, though it is over five years since the rinderpest was stamped out, the price is about £28. Transport rates rose from 10s. to £5 per 100 lbs., and all the necessaries of life went up to famine prices. These figures, which will be found in an interesting pamphlet written by Mr. P. S. Inskip of the British South Africa Company’s service, will convey some idea of the situation. Absolute ruin faced the settlers; it is wonderful that the bulk of them did not abandon the country in despair, but pioneers are not easily disheartened, and they stubbornly struggled on, taking every possible measure to mitigate the effect of the plague.
Rhodesian Natives Washing Clothes
But misfortune followed on misfortune. The rinderpest was raging when the Matabele rose, and the Rhodesians had to suppress a formidable rebellion, which was rendered the more difficult to cope with by the scarcity of oxen. The white settlers were massacred in outlying districts; there were heroic rescues, the rising spread to Mashonaland, and it was not until 1897 that the rebellion was crushed and peace for a little while came to the troubled land. Our total casualties were 690; and of the white settlers in the country alone 390 were killed and 150 were wounded, that is, 10 per cent. of the population. The Company spent £360,000 in compensating the settlers for the losses the rebellion had brought upon them.
It had fortunately been discovered that the rinderpest could be stamped out by inoculation, but no sooner had this plague been conquered by science than a terrible outbreak of red-water decimated the remaining cattle. Locusts, too, came in unwonted numbers to devour the crops, and horse sickness was very destructive. Then, on the top of all Rhodesia’s troubles, came the but just concluded Boer war cutting off this inland territory from its communications with its commercial and military bases on the coast, retarding its development, and once more calling on its manhood to abandon industry and take up arms for their country. The Rhodesians responded well to the call; twelve and a half per cent. of the population fought in the war, and it will be in the memory of all how well they acquitted themselves in the defence of Bechuanaland and the relief of Mafeking. Thanks to the foresight of Cecil Rhodes, Matabeleland was ours. Had it not been so, the Boers when defeated in war would have trekked north into the rough country—through which it would have been almost impossible for us to follow them—there to form new independent states, to intrigue against us as before. It would have been the old story over again; and after a few years we should have been plunged into another Boer war. But Rhodes had hemmed in the two Boer Republics. The quarrel had to be fought out within their boundaries. There was no outlet for them into the wilderness this time.
THE OUTLET BELOW VICTORIA FALLS, ZAMBESI RIVER.
After Photo by G. W. Wilson, Aberdeen.