‘THE GENTLE SHEPHERD OF SALISBURY PLAIN.
‘FARMER PECKS.
‘Multum in Parvo! Pro bono publico!
Entertainment for man or beast, all of a row,
Lekher kost, as much as you please;
Excellent beds, without any fleas.
Nos patriam fugimus! now we are here,
Vivamus! let us live by selling beer.
On donne à boire et à manger ici;
Come in and try it, whoever you be.’
This house was decorated with evergreens, and over the door was a stuffed South African leopard springing on an antelope. A little further on, after discussing lunch at a half-way house, a goodly number of volunteer cavalry, in blue-and-white uniforms, appeared to escort the Sailor Prince into Cape Town. The road passes through pleasant country; but the thick red dust which rose as the cavalcade proceeded was overwhelming. It was a South African version of the ‘Derby’ on a hot summer’s day. At various places parties of school-children, arrayed along the road-side, sung the National Anthem in little piping voices, the singing being generally conducted by mild-looking men in black gloves and spectacles. At one place stood an old Malay, playing ‘God Save the Queen’ on a cracked clarionet, who, quite absorbed as he was in his music, and apparently unconscious of all around him, looked exceedingly comic. There was everywhere a great scrambling crowd of Malays and black boys, running and tumbling over each other, shouting and laughing; women with children tied on their backs, old men, and girls dressed in every conceivable kind of ragged rig and picturesque colour, with head-gear of a wonderful nature, huge Malay hats, almost parasols in size, and resembling the thatch of an English corn-rick; crowns of old black hats; turbans of all proportions and colours, swelled the procession as it swept along. When the cavalry-trumpet sounded ‘trot,’ the cloud of dust increased tenfold. Everybody, apparently, who could muster a horse was mounted, so that ahead and on every side the carriage in which we were following the Duke was hemmed in and surrounded, and everything became mixed up in one thick cloud of red dust, in which helmets, swords, hats, puggeries, turbans, and horses almost disappeared. The crowd hurraed louder than ever, pigs squealed, dogs howled, riders tumbled off; the excitement was irresistible. ‘Oh! this is fun; stand up—never mind dignity. Whoo-whoop!’ and we were rushed into the cloud of dust, to escape being utterly swamped and left astern of the Duke, standing up in the carriage, and holding on in front, to catch what glimpses we could of what was going on. … Some of the arches were very beautiful; they were all decorated with flowering shrubs, flowers (particularly the arum lily) and leaves of the silver-tree. In one the words Welcome Back119 were formed with oranges. One of the most curious had on its top a large steamship, with Galatea inscribed upon it, and a funnel out of which real smoke was made to issue as the Duke passed under. Six little boys dressed as sailors formed the crew, and stood up singing ‘Rule Britannia.’ ” And so they arrived in Cape Town, to have levées, receptions, entertainments, and balls by the dozen.
While at the Cape the Duke of Edinburgh laid the foundation of a grand graving-dock, an adjunct to the Table Bay Harbour Works, a most valuable and important addition to the resources of the Royal Navy, enabling the largest ironclad to be repaired at that distant point. The dock is four hundred feet long, and ninety feet wide. For more than forty years previously frequent but unsuccessful efforts had been made to provide a harbour of refuge in Table Bay; now, in addition to this splendid dock, it has a fine breakwater.
Officers of the Royal Navy may occasionally get the opportunity afforded the Prince, of attending an elephant hunt. From the neighbourhood of the Cape itself the biggest of beasts has long retired; but three hundred miles up the coast, at Featherbed Bay, where there is a settlement, it is still possible to enjoy some sport.
To leave the port or town of Knysna—where, by-the-by, the Duke was entertained at a great feed of South African oysters—was found to be difficult and perilous. The entrance to the harbour is very fine; a high cliff comes down sheer to the sea on one side, while on the other there is an angular bluff, with a cave through it. As the Petrel steamed out, a large group of the ladies of the district waved their handkerchiefs, and the elephant-hunters cheered. It was now evident, from the appearance of the bar, that the Petrel had not come out a moment too soon. A heavy sea of rollers extended nearly the whole way across the mouth of the harbour, and broke into a long thundering crest of foam, leaving only one small space on the western side clear of actual surf. For this opening the Petrel steered; but even there the swell was so great that the vessel reared and pitched fearfully, and touched the bottom as she dipped astern into the deep trough of the sea. The slightest accident to the rudder, and nothing short of a miracle could have saved them from going on to the rocks, where a tremendous surf was breaking. Providentially, she got out safely, and soon the party was transferred to the Racoon, which returned to Simon’s Bay.
THE “GALATEA” PASSING KNYSNA HEADS.
On his return from the elephant hunt, the Prince gave a parting ball. A capital ballroom, 135 feet long by 44 wide, was improvised out of an open boat-house by a party of blue-jackets, who, by means of ships’ lanterns, flags, arms arranged as ornaments, and beautiful ferns and flowers, effected a transformation as wonderful as anything recorded in the “Arabian Nights,” the crowning feature of the decorations being the head of one of the elephants from the Knysna, surmounting an arch of evergreens. Most of the visitors had to come all the way from Cape Town, and during the afternoon were to be seen flocking along the sands in vehicles of every description, many being conveyed to Simon’s Town a part of the distance in a navy steam-tender or the Galatea’s steam-launch. The ball was, of course, a grand success.
This not being a history of Cape Colony, but rather of what the sailor will find at or near its ports and harbours, the writer is relieved from any necessity of treating on past or present troubles with the Boers or the natives. Of course, everything was tinted couleur de rose at the Prince’s visit, albeit at that very time the colony was in a bad way, with over speculation among the commercial classes, a cattle plague, disease among sheep, and a grape-disease. Mr. Frederick Boyle, whose recent work on the Diamond-fields has been already quoted, and who had to leave a steamer short of coal at Saldanha Bay, seventy or eighty miles from Cape Town, and proceed by a rather expensive route, presents a picture far from gratifying of some of the districts through which he passed. At Saldanha Bay agriculture gave such poor returns that it did not even pay to export produce to the Cape. The settlers exist, but can hardly be said to live. They have plenty of cattle and sheep, sufficient maize and corn, but little money. Mr. Boyle describes the homestead of a Boer substantially as follows:—
Reaching the home of a farmer named Vasson, he found himself in the midst of a scene quite patriarchal. All the plain before the house was white with sheep and lambs, drinking at the “dam” or in long troughs. The dam is