BLOEMFONTEIN, the capital of the Orange Republic, is a pleasant little town in the very centre of the country which we speak of as South Africa, about a hundred miles north of the Orange River, four hundred north of Port Elizabeth whence it draws the chief part of its supplies, and six hundred and eighty north east of Capetown. It is something above a hundred miles from Kimberley which is its nearest neighbour of any importance in point of size. It is about the same distance from Durban, the seaport of Natal, as it is from Port Elizabeth;—and again about the same distance from Pretoria the capital of the Transvaal. It may therefore be said to be a remote town offering but little temptations to its inhabitants to gad about to other markets. The smaller towns within the borders of the Republic are but villages containing at most not more than a few hundred inhabitants. I am told that Bloemfontein has three thousand; but no census has as yet been taken, and I do not know whether the number stated is intended to include or exclude the coloured population,—who as a rule do not live in Bloemfontein but at a neighbouring hamlet, devoted to the use of the natives, called Wray Hook. I found Bloemfontein a pleasant place when I was there, but one requiring much labour and trouble both in reaching and leaving. For a hundred miles on one side and a hundred on the other I saw hardly a blade of grass or a tree. It stands isolated in the plain,—without any suburb except the native location which I have named,—with as clearly defined a boundary on each side as might be a town built with a pack of cards, or one of those fortified citadels with barred gates and portcullises which we used to see in picture books. After travelling through a country ugly, dusty and treeless for many weary hours the traveller at last reaches Bloemfontein and finds himself at rest from his joltings, with his bones not quite dislocated, in the quiet little Dutch capital, wondering at the fate which has led him to a spot on the world’s surface, so far away, apparently so purposeless, and so unlike the cities which he has known.
I heard of no special industry at Bloemfontein. As far as I am aware nothing special is there manufactured. It is needful that a country should have a Capital, and therefore the Orange Free State has Bloemfontein. I was told that some original Boer named Bloem first settled there by the side of the stream in which water runs when there has been rain, and that hence has come the name. But the little town has thriven with a success peculiarly its own. Though it would seem to have no raison d’etre just there where it stands,—though it has been encouraged and fostered by no peculiar fertility, adorned with no scenic beauty, enriched by no special gifts of water or of metals, even though the population has not grown beyond that of the suburb of some European town, still it carries its metropolitan honours with a good air, and shocks no one by meanness, dirt, or poverty. It certainly is not very grand, but it is grand enough. If there be no luxury, everything is decent. The members of the Volksraad are not carried about in gorgeous equipages, but when they have walked slowly to their Chamber they behave themselves there with decorum. There is nothing pretentious in Bloemfontein,—nothing to raise a laugh at the idea that a town with so small a population should call itself a capital.
It is a town, white and red, built with plastered walls or of brick,—with a large oblong square in the centre; with four main streets running parallel to each other and with perhaps double that number of cross streets. The houses are generally but one storey high, though this is not so invariably the case as at Kimberley. I do not remember, however, that I was ever required to go up-stairs,—except at the schools. The supply of water is I am assured never-failing, though in dry weather it has to be drawn from tanks. A long drought had prevailed when I reached the place, and the bed of the riverlet had been dry for many days; but the supply of water seemed to be sufficient. Fuel is very scarce and consequently dear. This is of the less importance as but little is wanted except for the purpose of cooking.
At one extreme end of the town are the public buildings in which the Volksraad is held and the judges sit. Here also are the offices of the President and the Secretary. Indeed all public business is here carried on. The edifice has but the ground floor with a clock tower rising from the centre. It is long and roomy and to my eye handsome in its white neatness. I have heard it laughed at and described as being like a railway station. It seems to be exactly that which such a Capital and such a Republic would require. The Volksraad was not sitting when I was there and I therefore could only see the beautiful arm-chairs which have lately been imported at a considerable expense for the use of the Members;—£13 10s. a chair I think I was told! It is impossible to conceive that gentlemen who have been accommodated with such chairs should wilfully abandon any of the dignity attached to them. For a central parliament the chairs may be fitting, but would be altogether out of place in a small provincial congress. Except the churches and the schools there are not any public buildings of much note in Bloemfontein,—unless the comfortable residence of the President may be so called. This belongs to the State but is not attached to the House of Parliament.
My residence when I was at Bloemfontein was at the Free State Hotel, and I do not know that I was ever put up much better. Two circumstances militated against my own particular comfort, but they were circumstances which might probably recommend the house to the world at large. I was forced to take my meals in public at stated hours;—and I had a great deal too much put before me to eat. I am bound, however, to say that all I had given to me was good, though at that time it must have been very difficult to supply such luxuries. The butter had to be bought at 5s. 6d. a pound, but was as plentiful as though the price had been only a shilling,—and it was good which I had not found to be the case elsewhere in South Africa. What was paid for the peas and beans and cauliflowers I don’t know; but I did know that the earth around was dry and parched and barren everywhere,—so that I was almost ashamed to eat them. These details may be of interest to some readers of my pages, as the place of which I am speaking is becoming at present the sanitorium to which many an English consumptive patient is sent. Such persons, at any rate when first reaching Bloemfontein, are obliged to find a home in an hotel, and will certainly find one well provided at the Free State. It commended itself to me especially because I found no difficulty in that very serious and often troublesome matter of a morning tub.
Bloemfontein is becoming another Madeira, another Algiers, another Egypt in regard to English sufferers with weak chests and imperfect lungs. It seems to the ignorant as though the doctors were ever seeking in increased distance that relief for their patients which they cannot find in increased skill. But a dry climate is now supposed to be necessary and one that shall be temperate without great heat. This certainly will be found at Bloemfontein, and perhaps more equably so through the entire year than at any other known place. The objection to it is the expense arising from the distance and the great fatigue to patients from the long overland journey. Taking the easiest mode of reaching the capital of the Free State the traveller must be kept going six weary days in a Cobb’s coach, being an average of about thirteen hours a day upon the road. This is gradually and very slowly becoming lightened by the opening of bits of the railway from Fort Elizabeth; but it win be some years probably before the coaching work can be done in less than five days. The road is very rough through the Catberg and Stromberg mountains,—so that he who has made the journey is apt to think that he has done something considerable. All this is so much against an invalid that I doubt whether they who are feeble should be sent here. There can I imagine be no doubt that the air of the place when reached is in the highest degree fit for weak lungs.
There is at present a difficulty felt by those who arrive suddenly at Bloemfontein in finding the accommodation they desire. The hotel, as I have said above, is very good; but an hotel must of its nature be expensive and can hardly afford the quiet which is necessary for an invalid. Nor during my sojourn there did I once see a lady sitting at table. There is no reason why she should not do so, but the practice did not seem as yet to have become common. I am led by this to imagine that a house comfortably kept for the use of patients would well repay a medical speculator at Bloemfontein. It should not be called a sanitarium, and should if possible have the name of the doctor’s wife on the brass plate on the door rather than that of the doctor. And the kitchen should be made to do more than the dispensary,—which should be kept a little out of sight. And there should be fiddles and novels and plenty of ribbons. If possible three or four particularly healthy guests should be obtained to diminish the aspect of sickness which might otherwise make the place gloomy. If this could be done, and the coach journey somewhat lightened, then I think that the dry air of Bloemfontein might be made very useful to English sufferers.
In reference to the fatigue, tedium, and expense of the coach journey,—a seat to Bloemfontein from the Fort Elizabeth railway costs £18, and half a crown a pound extra is charged for all luggage beyond a small bag,—it may be as well to say that in the treaty by which £90,000 have been given by Great Britain to the Free State to cover any damage she may have received as to the Diamond Fields, it is agreed that an extra sum of £15,000 shall be paid to the Free State if she shall have commenced a railway with the view of meeting the Colonial railway within a certain period. As no Dutchman will throw over a pecuniary advantage if it can be honestly obtained, a great effort will no doubt be made to secure this sum. It may be difficult to decide, when the time comes, what constitutes the commencement of a railway. It appears impossible that any portion of a line shall be opened in the Free State till the entire line shall have been completed from the sea to the borders of the State, as every thing necessary for the construction of a line, including wooden sleepers, must be conveyed overland. As the bulk so to be conveyed will necessarily be enormous it can only be carried up by the rail as the rail itself progresses. And there must be difficulty even in surveying the proposed line till it be known actually at what point the colonial line will pass the Orange River or which of the colonial lines will first reach it. Nevertheless I feel assured that the Dutchman will get his £15,000. When an Englishman has once talked of paying and a Dutchman has been encouraged to think of receiving! the money will probably pass hands.
A railway completed to Bloemfontein would double the value of all property there and would very soon double the population of the town. Everything there used from a deal plank or a bar of iron down to a pair of socks or a pound of sugar, has now to be dragged four hundred miles by oxen at an average rate of £15 a ton. It is not only the sick and weakly who are prevented from seeking the succour of its climate by the hardness of the journey, but everything which the sick and weakly can require is doubled in price. If I might venture to give a little advice to the Volksraad I would counsel them to open the purse strings of the nation, even though the purse should be filled with borrowed money, so that there should be no delay on their part in joining themselves to the rest of the world. They should make their claim to the £15,000 clear and undoubted.
At present there is no telegraph to Bloemfontein, though the line of wires belonging to the Cape Colony passes through a portion of the State on its way to Kimberley,—so that there is a telegraph station at Fauresmith, a town belonging to the Republic. An extension to the capital is much wanted in order to bring it within the pale of modern civilization.
The schools at Bloemfontein are excellent, and are peculiarly interesting as showing the great steps by which the English language is elbowing out the Dutch, This is so marked that though I see no necessity for a political Confederation in South Africa I think I do see that there will soon be a unity of language. I visited all the schools that are supported or assisted by Government, as I did also those which have been set on foot by English enterprise. In the former almost as fully as in the latter English seemed to be the medium of communication between scholar and teacher. In all the public schools the Head Teacher was either English or Scotch. The inspector of schools for the Republic is a Scotch gentleman, Mr. Brebner, who is giving himself heart and soul to the subject he has in hand and is prospering admirably. Even in the infant school I found that English was the language of the great majority of the children. In the upper schools, both of the boys and girls, I went through the whole establishment, visiting the bedrooms of the pupils. As I did so I took the opportunity of looking at the private books of the boys and girls. The books which I took off the shelves were all without exception English. When I mentioned this to one of the teachers who was with me in the compartment used by a lad who had well provided himself with a little library, he made a search to show me that I was wrong, and convicted me by finding—a Dutch dictionary. I pointed out that the dictionary joined to the fact that the other books were English would seem to indicate that the boy was learning Dutch rather than reading it. I have no hesitation in saying that in these Dutch schools,—for Dutch they are as being supported in a Dutch Republic by grants of Dutch money voted by an exclusively Dutch Volksraad,—English is the more important language of the two and the one the best understood.
I say this rather in a desire to tell the truth than in a spirit of boasting. I do not know why I should wish that the use of my own tongue should supersede that of the native language in a foreign country. And the fact as I state it will go far with some thinkers to prove the arguments to have been ill-founded with which I have endeavoured to shew that the Republic will retain her independence. Such persons will say that this preference for the English language will surely induce a preference for English Government. To such persons I would reply first that the English language was spoken in the United States when they revolted. And I would then explain that the schools of which I am speaking are all in the capital, which is undoubtedly an English town rather than Dutch. In the country, from whence come the Members of the Volksraad, the schools are probably much more Dutch, though by no means so Dutch as are the Members themselves. The same difference prevails in all things in which the urban feeling or the rural feeling is exhibited. Nothing can be more Dutch than the Volksraad. Many members, I was assured, cannot speak a word of English. The debates are all in Dutch. But the President was chosen from a British community, having been a member of the Cape House of Assembly, and the Government Secretary was imported from the same Colony,—and the Chief Justice. As I have said above the Inspector of Schools is a Scotchman. The Boers of the Orange Free State have been too wise to look among themselves for occupants for these offices. But they believe themselves to be perfectly capable of serving their country as legislators. Nothing can be better than these public schools in Bloemfontein, giving another evidence of the great difference which existed in the internal arrangements of the two Republics. Large grants of public money have been made for the support of the Free State schools. In 1875 £18,000 was voted for this purpose, and in 1876 £10,000. Money is also set aside for a permanent educational fund which is to be continued till the amount in hand is £176,800. This it is thought will produce an income sufficient for the required purpose.
There are two thoroughly good English schools for pupils of the better, or at any rate, richer class, as to which it has to be said that they are set on foot and carried on by ladies and gentlemen devoted to High Church doctrines. I could not speak of these schools fairly without saying so. Having so liberated my conscience I may declare that their pupils are by no means drawn specially from that class and that as far as I could learn nothing is inculcated to which any Protestant parent would object. When I was at Bloemfontein the President had a daughter at the girls’ school and the President is a Member of the Dutch Reformed Church. The Government Secretary had four daughters at the same school. There was at least one Roman Catholic educated there. It is in fact a thoroughly good school and as such of infinite value in that far distant place. The cost of board and education is £60 for each girl, which with extra charges for music and other incidental expenses becomes £80 in most cases. I thought this to be somewhat high; but it must be remembered that the 400 miles and the bullock wagons affect even the price of schools. The boys’ school did not seem to have been so prosperous, the number educated being much less than at the other. The expense is about the same and the advantages given quite as great. At both establishments day scholars are taken as well as boarders. The result is that Bloemfontein in respect to climate and education offers peculiar advantages to its residents. It is not necessary to send a child away either for English air or for English teaching.
In church matters Bloemfontein has a footing which is peculiarly its own. The Dutch Reformed Church is the Church of the people. There are 18,—only 18,—congregations in the State, of which 16 receive Government support. The worshippers of the Free State must, it is feared, be called upon to travel long distances to their churches. As a rule those living in remote places, have themselves taken by their ox-wagons into the nearest town once in three months for the Nichtmaal,—that is for the celebration of the Lord’s Supper; and on these occasions the journey there and back, together with a little holyday-making in the town, takes a week or ten days. In this there is nothing singular, as it is the custom of the Dutch in South Africa,—but the Anglican Church in Bloemfontein is peculiar. There is a Bishop of Bloemfontein, an English Bishop, consecrated I think with the assistance of an English Archbishop, appointed at any rate with the general sanction and approval of the English Church. The arrangement has no doubt been beneficial and is regarded without disfavour by the ruling powers of the State in which it has been made;—but there is something singular in the position which we as a people have assumed. We first repudiate the country and then we take upon ourselves to appoint a high church dignitary whom we send out from England with a large accompaniment of minor ecclesiastics. In the United States they have bishops of the Protestant Episcopal Church as well as of the Roman Catholic. But they are not Bishops of the Church of England. Here, in Bloemfontein, the Church is English, and prays for the Queen before the President,—for which latter it sometimes does pray and sometimes does not. I attended the Cathedral service twice and such was my experience.
This is strange to an Englishman who visits the Republic prepared to find it a nationality of itself,—what in common language we may call a foreign country. There are English bishops also among savage nations,—a bishop for instance of Central Africa who lives at present at Zanzibar. But in the Free State we are among a civilized people who are able to manage their own affairs. I am very far from finding fault. The Church in Bloemfontein has worked very well and done much good. But in acknowledging this I think we ought to acknowledge also that very much is due to the forbearance of the Boers.
The Bishop of Bloemfontein with his numerous staff gives to the town a special ecclesiastical hue. It is quite true that his presence and their presence adds to the importance of the place, and that their influence is exercised all for good. The clergymen as a set are peculiarly clerical. Were I to call them High Church it might be supposed that I were accusing them of a passion for ribbons. I did see a ribbon or two but not vehemently pronounced. There is a Home too, to which the girls’ school is attached,—which has attracted various young ladies who have come as assistants to the good work. The Bishop too has attracted various young men in orders. There has I think been some gentle feeling of disappointment in serious clerical minds at Bloemfontein created by the natural conclusion brought about by this state of things. All the clerical young men, who were perhaps intended to be celebate, had when I was at Bloemfontein become engaged to all the clerical young ladies,—from whom also something of the same negative virtue may have been expected. There has, I think, been something of a shock! I was happy enough to meet some of the gentlemen and some of the ladies, and am not at all surprised at the happy result which has attended their joint expatriation.
The stranger looking at Bloemfontein, and forgetting for a while that it is the capital of a country or the seat of a Bishop, will behold a pretty quiet smiling village with willow trees all through it, lying in the plain,—with distinct boundaries, most pleasing to the eye. Though it lies in a plain still there are hills close to it,—a little hill on the east on which there is an old fort and a few worn-out guns which were brought there when the English occupied the country, and a higher one to the west which I used to mount when the sun was setting, because from the top I could look down upon the place and see the whole of it. The hill is rocky and somewhat steep and, with a mile of intervening ground, takes half an hour in the ascent. The view from it on an evening is peculiarly pleasing. The town is so quiet and seems to be so happy and contented, removed so far away from strife and want and disorder, that the beholder as he looks down upon it is tempted to think that the peace of such an abode is better than the excitement of a Paris, a London, or a New York. I will not say that the peace and quiet can be discerned from the hill top, but he who sits there, knowing that the peace and quiet are lying beneath him, will think that he sees them.
Nor will I say that Bloemfontein is itself peculiarly beautiful. It has no rapid rivers running through it as has the capital of the Tyrol, no picturesqueness of hills to make it lovely as has Edinburgh, no glory of buildings such as belongs to Florence. It is not quaint as Nuremberg, romantic as Prague, or even embowered in foliage as are some of the Dutch villages in the western province of the Cape Colony. But it has a completeness and neatness which makes it very pleasant to the eye. One knows that no one is over-hungry there, or over-worked. The work indeed is very light. Friday is a half holyday for everybody. The banks close at one o’clock on Saturday. Three o’clock ends the day for all important business. I doubt whether any shop is open after six. At eight all the servants,—who of course are coloured people,—are at home at their own huts in Wray Hook. No coloured person is allowed to walk about Bloemfontein after eight. This, it may be said, is oppressive to them. But if they are expelled from the streets, so also are they relieved from their work. At Wray Hook they can walk about as much as they please,—or go to bed.
There is much in all this which is old-fashioned,—contrary to our ideas of civilization, contrary to our ideas of liberty. It would also be contrary to our ideas of comfort to have no one to wait upon us after eight o’clock. But there is a contentment and general prosperity about Bloemfontein which is apt to make a dweller in busy cities think that though it might not quite suit himself, it would be very good for everybody else. And then there comes upon him a question of conscience as he asks himself whether it ought not to be very good for him also.