CHAPTER II.
On the afternoon of the 29th of November, after having passed four days of terrific heat in full view, if not “amid Afric’s burning sands,” we were finally coaled, and had the steam up ready for sea, when our captain discovered, much to his chagrin and disappointment, that the “red-tape” regulations of this dilapidated, out-of-the-world colony would not permit him to sail until the next morning. It seems that the harbor-master,—called by the Portuguese commandante,—a sort of official wearing a military cap with bright buttons, and a uniform ornamented with gold lace, and having a bearing decidedly of the Spanish hidalgo style,—would not give the Poyang a clearance nor pilot us out of the harbor until the next morning, because Captain Briggs had not informed him twenty-four hours previous, as was the rule, that he designed sailing that evening. The captain, not being aware of this necessary preliminary, sent a message to the officer; and, pleading his want of information on the point as an excuse, requested him to overlook the unintentional disregard of his port rules, and to permit him to leave. But the Loando port rules, like the laws of the Medes and Persians, were not to be altered to suit our convenience, and we were obliged to succumb to the necessity of remaining another night in the harbor. Our hearts did not go out very kindly to this grandiloquent commandante, for keeping us one more night than was necessary in the stifling heat and malaria of the African coast; and on boarding us the next morning, although our officers received him with the most reserved civility, it did not seem to disturb his pride, or to diminish in the least degree his imperturbable reticence and lordliness, which was well worth the imitation of the most skilful diplomate. The boat of this dignified functionary, manned by six stalwart Congo slaves, was towed astern the vessel as we steamed out of the harbor; and although we moved slowly, still the boat had rough sailing in the swell, and it required no little skill and strength for her steersman to keep his little craft afloat. When, however, we began to move more rapidly, it was both comical and painful to witness the affrighted faces and attitudes of our swarthy friends in the boat; nor less ludicrously serious were their beseeching tones, as again and again they cried out “Capitan! Capitan!” There was one poor fellow, in particular, who did not regain his composure until long after his master, the “Capitan,” had spoken to him from the quarter-deck of the vessel, reassuring him of his safety. The boat and paddles were painted white, and the Congos were also neatly dressed in white, with little white linen caps upon their heads; and when this pompous official left us with his slaves facing the bow of the boat, and paddled swiftly landward, the spectacle was uniquely picturesque.
On sailing out of the harbor we passed an outer point of the high bluff on which a portion of the city is built, and at the extremity of which is situated the fortress of San Miguel, already mentioned. South of this elevation there runs out a tongue of land, or sandy beach, where our “commandante” lived; his house, with its verandas and Eastern style of architecture, placed in a little patch of tropical green, and surrounded with palm-trees, presenting, as we steamed past, quite an attractive Oriental picture.
The change from the close and heated air of Loando to the fresh, pure, and bracing sea-breeze, as we sailed down the coast, had a most magical effect upon all of us. One must exist four days and nights in a stifling furnace heat, such as we endured, in order to fully appreciate the life-giving influences of the change. While in port the average temperature was 96° according to our thermometer; but had the mercury marked ten degrees higher it is doubtful if we could have suffered more. We were all of us accustomed to a high degree of temperature at home during the “heated term,” as it is called; but the peculiarity about the heat which we experienced at Loando was that it produced an atmosphere distressing to the brain, paralyzing to the limbs, and prostrating to the whole system. There is no heat in the world more withering and baleful in its influence upon strangers,—particularly the Saxon race; and exposure to it, and the night air, is soon followed by an attack of the African fever. The fact that we were leaving an atmosphere so deadly, and were in such excellent health, (although at the island of St. Vincent we were told that the yellow fever had appeared among the garrison at Loando,) inclined our hearts to a sentiment of profound gratitude for our continued preservation, and the mercies we were still enjoying.
We had a quiet sea, and continuing to sail near the coast, were on the morning of the 2d of December off Port Alexander,—a settlement near Great Fish Bay,—which is at the mouth of the Nourse River, between the sixteenth and seventeenth degree of south latitude, and a little north of the latitude of the island of St. Helena. Directly on passing this port we steamed near the shore of Cimbeba,—a barren and sandy desert, which stretches along the entire coast, reaching below the tropic of Capricorn,—or from Great Fish Bay to Santa Cruz, a place on the coast of Damara; making a distance of nine hundred miles, where neither fresh water, nor any vegetation can be found. The shores are very bold, and their sandy banks deeply and peculiarly seamed, as though gullied by heavy rains.
On the 4th we outstripped the sun; passing that luminary in twenty-two degrees and fifty-eight minutes of south latitude. A little before twelve o’clock of that day, our kind and courteous captain, always ready and happy to add to our comfort, pleasure, and stock of information, called us to come on the quarter-deck and see how thoroughly attenuated and shadowless we had become. Readily obeying the summons, we were directly walking under the full rays of a mid-day sun unattended by our life-long shadows; and although aware of the reason for the absence of our old companions, the thing seemed so strangely peculiar that we could not resist the continual impulse to look searchingly, first on one side, and then on the other, and finally down to our feet, in order to see if there was not a little remnant or line of our old friends still remaining. Not being successful in this endeavor, we were obliged to confess to some little sympathy with poor Peter Schlemyhl, and a readiness to borrow his seven-leagued boots, that we might go quickly in pursuit of our lost umbras. While nearing the sun the weather was much cooler,—the mercury falling to 72°,—and, from experience, we became agreeably aware that his perpendicular rays are less powerful than when they are cast somewhat obliquely upon the earth. We now encountered head winds, together with a very rough sea,—the effect of a gale which had just prevailed along the coast; and again old Neptune made faces at some of us, while at others he actually pulled his beard and shook his trident, disagreeably reminding us that he was still ruler of the ocean, and did not mean to be forgotten.
Soon after encountering the heavy sea up the coast the weather became cloudy, and the cold increased until the mercury fell to 62°, rendering the atmosphere not unlike that in the vicinity of icebergs, and causing some of our timid ones to feel not a little apprehension. In addition to this, a dense fog closed in about us, so that we could see but little farther than a ship’s length; and the light being obscured at the entrance of the port which we were nearing, we were obliged to lay to until the morning dawned, and the sun, rising in a clear sky, had dispersed the fogs and vapors.
The morning was serene and beautiful; but although we were early on deck we found that our vessel had already passed Robin’s Island, lying at the entrance to Table Bay, and dividing it into two channels, at either of which ships may safely enter. Nor were we in time to get the best view of the mountains composing the head, rump, and tail of the couchant lion; but Table Mountain was clearly defined, and as we rounded Green Point and steamed up the bay, passing the shipping at anchor, the villa-like country residences, with their lawns and gardens, were seen in the distance, stretching along the mountain slopes by the sea, and soon the African, but, to us, home-like, city of Cape Town rose upon our view.
The city of Cape Town lies at a curve of the bay, almost directly at the base of Table Mountain and the Lion’s Head; the first of which, rising 3500 feet above the level of the sea, had its square, table-like top covered with clouds of fleecy whiteness.[2] The latter rears its proud head sublimely; and we thought as we gazed upon this scene, combining so much of the grand and beautiful, that no fairer landscape could be presented to the eye than the magnificent array of ocean and mountain scenery with which we were surrounded. Doubtless our respite from the monotony of sea-life rendered this feeling more appreciable than it would otherwise have been, and prepared us to enjoy this never-to-be-forgotten scene with the most intense relish and gratification.
We anchored in Table Bay on Sunday morning, the 8th of December, having been but ten days out from Loando. Directly on our arrival we learned from the Custom-house officials who boarded the vessel that a severe gale, which had raged here and along the coast for ten days previous, had just passed away, and that we might felicitate ourselves that we had seen it in no worse form than in its last dying swells, which, during the last few days of our passage, had vexed the seas which we traversed.
Although all our surroundings tended to impress us with the fact that we were in a foreign land, there were, also, many pleasant things to remind us that we were still within the pale of Protestant Christendom, and that this Colony, like her motherland, was under the civilizing and sanctifying influence of the Bible. Again we heard the Sabbath bells, whose tones were touchingly sweet and home-like, and were delighted to array ourselves like shore-people and go to church. Table Bay is subject to frequent visitations of sudden and very severe winds; and a rule of the port makes it obligatory upon all masters of vessels, in taking people to and from the city, to use a boat smaller, but in other respects much like the lighters employed in lading ships, and which is so constructed as not to be liable to capsize in a sudden squall. Taking passage in one of these boats, we were landed at the jetty, (which, with the streets leading to it, was wearing a Sunday-keeping aspect,) and proceeded directly to St. George’s Cathedral. On entering the church we were seated by the verger, or beadle, who wore a black serge gown, made after the fashion of the surplices worn by the clergy. The Rev. Mr. Douglas, Dean of the Cathedral, preached from the twenty-first chapter and thirty-third verse of St. Luke’s Gospel, and gave us a practical discourse, in a style of writing, and manner of delivery at once polished and elegant. He was assisted in the services by three clergymen, and the entire Cathedral Service of the English Church was intoned by a choir of eighteen colored boys, none of whom were more than twelve or sixteen years of age. They were the sons of Kaffir chiefs, and students of the Kaffir College, of which we shall say more hereafter. They were arrayed in white robes, and their responses were not only melodious, but characterized by a reverential sweetness. The aisles were paved with red tile, and mural tablets adorned the walls. The choir, which was situated on the ground-floor of the Cathedral, at the right of the chancel, had, on one side, a very fine organ, ornamented in front with a row of small Corinthian pillars, and on the other side, stalls for the choir, who were shielded from view, when sitting, by drapery.
The Cathedral is an imposing structure, in the Grecian style of architecture, having a peristyle of Corinthian columns in front, and a lofty spire surmounted with a cross. The exterior is covered with a stucco of the same ochroleucous material used at Loando,—this being the prevailing style in which the buildings and public edifices at Cape Town are finished. The attendants at the Cathedral, we were told, comprised the élite and aristocracy of the city, and were mostly refined, as well as stylish and fashionable in their appearance. We observed, however, among them, and occupying the same pews, colored men and women, who also bore unmistakable marks of being educated persons. In the seats occupied by the Sunday-school children the colored and white race sat, indiscriminately, side by side; and as we walked down the centre-aisle, on leaving the church, we observed a very tall and well-dressed Kaffir, with prayer-book in hand, and having a gentlemanly bearing, walking close by our side. Many of the people living out of town drive in to church; and there was quite a display of handsome equipages. The horses of the Colony are superior, and one of an inferior grade is rarely met with. Of vehicles, the English hansom seemed a favorite “turn-out,” and much in use in the city; but in such a warm climate it cannot be as comfortable as some other modes of conveyance.
We were anchored just off from the foot of Table Mountain, and the weather continuing serene, on returning from church we found that the table-cloth of cloud had lifted from its top and entirely disappeared. This peaceful serenity, however, only presaged a coming tempest; and at about seven in the evening dark clouds began to gather in the east, and over the top of the mountain, and the roar of the approaching wind sounded like the heavy booming of distant cannon. In a very short space of time the clouds had not only covered the flat top of the mountain, but were rolling and floating with infinite grace and beauty down its side in a cataract, presenting to the eye a sort of aërial Niagara,—an object of sublimity which could not be contemplated without producing in the mind a sensation akin to awe. This gale, which continued with unabated fury for forty-eight hours, blew with increased violence at night, when it howled fearfully through the rigging of our ship, in mad concert with the waves which dashed furiously against us. A large fleet of vessels were riding at anchor in the bay, with their bows landward, and not a stitch of canvas flying,—forming the foreground of a marine view, which, as seen from our quarter-deck, was wild and grand in the extreme. To describe it, we know to be impossible. We only wished for the pencil and genius of a Church to transfer it to canvas. Instead of decreasing in violence, as we had hoped, the storm assumed a far more terrible and threatening phase; and fearing that it would cause our vessel to drag her anchors, orders were given to get up steam, so that if necessary we could put out to sea in order to avoid foundering in the bay. The stanch little Poyang, however, shivered but slightly, and did not change her mooring; although the wind from sundown until midnight was like a hurricane in violence. These southeasterly gales are of frequent occurrence, sweeping not only the bay but the town itself. They are said to blow away all disease, and to render the climate salubrious and healthy; hence the inhabitants are pleased to call the “black southeaster” the Cape Town doctor.
During the prevalence of the gale it was perilous to go on shore, even in the substantial and safe-sailing lighters; and at one time it would have been nothing short of downright madness for any one to have attempted it even in them. The next day, however, was calm, and the bay was again as placid as a river; so, taking advantage of the beauty of the morning, and feeling that if we wished to go sight-seeing we must improve every moment, (as the coaling was to be prosecuted with the utmost vigor, in order to sail with despatch,) we took a boat, and sallied forth to “do” the town.
The streets have a fine business-like appearance, and cross each other at right angles; the jetty at which we landed being at the foot of Aderly Street, which terminates in a beautiful avenue of English oaks near the base of the mountain. Leaving the busy and bustling crowd at the wharf, and passing a short distance up Aderly, we enter Darling Street, which is a fine avenue, crossing the former, and running for some distance parallel with the bay. Here, judging from the extensive haberdashery establishments, the women of Cape Town must do their shopping. The best hotel of the place is also in this street, as well as the “Old Curiosity Shop,” kept by Bridges, and a place of interest, as will be seen further on. We shall not disguise the fact, that, true to our womanly instincts and tastes, we were curious to learn everything possible in regard to dress, and the ornamental advantages enjoyed by our Saxon sisters of this out-of-the-way South African Colony; but found, during the little shopping which we executed, that there was no particular difference between them and our own countrywomen in this respect: the main point with the tradesman being to get hold of their money, and the principal point with them being to spend it when they could get it,—which are, perhaps, two of the most unerring indications of civilization and refinement that can be met with. We next visited the book and print shops in quest of sketches of scenery, and delineations of the different peoples common to the country; but could find nothing that would be of any service to us, except a few small cards, on which were paintings, in watercolors, of the different native races inhabiting South Africa. These being represented in native costume, and at their particular occupations, as warriors, fishermen, water-carriers, &c., (which, together with their huts and little boats, were well and spiritedly executed,) gave one a tolerably correct idea of the personal appearance of the various tribes coming under the jurisdiction of the Colonial Government, besides portraying many living further to the north, and occupying a region of country beyond their rule.
We have already alluded to the fact that in St. George’s Cathedral the white and black worshippers sat side by side, in recognition of the Christian equality of the two races. We found, however, that this principle of equality was not confined to the Church, but that it pervaded all the business classes,—with whom the oppressed African had equal rights, and equal opportunities to elevate himself and his race in the scale of being.
On Plein Street we entered a highly respectable haberdasher-shop which was kept by colored people. The proprietor was absent, but his wife—a woman of excellent address—was behind the counter, and her son, a young man of pleasing manners, was also acting as clerk. The tradespeople of Cape Town, like the tradesmen of England, have their dwellings in the same building with their shops; and on perceiving that we were strangers and Americans, the mother and son invited us to walk into their parlor, where it was cooler, and we could refresh ourselves after our long walk. The son led the way, and greatly entertained us by showing some rare African curiosities, and telling us of the interior of the country and its people. He was what would be called a well-educated young tradesman, and we fancied had passed a portion of his youthful days in England. His use of our vernacular was with a taste and skill more like that of a well-read professional student than a business clerk. We were told of another son who was in England, but made no further inquiries, although we were much interested in the family, and wished to know more of their history.
From what we could observe, these people occupied a position in the community corresponding in all respects with that of the whites in the same business; and no one appeared to feel that this state of things was any other than it should be.
At No. 9 Darling Street we found the “Old Curiosity Shop” to be a place of singular interest; where the skins of animals, the plumage of birds, all kinds of Kaffir curiosities, and many other of the natural productions of Africa could be procured; while Mr. Bridges, the keeper of the shop, entertained us highly with his enthusiastic conversation in regard to his treasures, and communicated some of his personal reminiscences of Dr. Livingstone, and Sir Gordon Cumming, both of whom were frequenters of his shop during their visits to Cape Town. The old man, however, inclined to the opinion that the narrative of the latter must be taken cum grano salis. Soon after entering this shop the keeper appeared at the door of a room in the rear, with the head of a gemsbok in his hand, which he kindly showed us. It had just been sent to him from the interior, and being a very superb specimen of that animal, he was about preparing it for preservation. In looking about for the wonderful in this extensive collection, we noticed some exceedingly delicate shells, which were kept in a glass vessel; and on making some inquiries in reference to them learned that they were found in the year 1856, on the sandy beach at Kalk Bay,—a bight in Simon’s Bay,—which is situated between the naval station and Cape Town. The old man told us that, as far as he could learn, they had never been found in any other locality; and also that they had appeared but once at Kalk Bay, and then were visible but for a short time. He had sent some of them to Mr. Layard at the British Museum, who informed him that he had never before met with, nor heard of them, and that they were nameless, not being mentioned or described in any works treating on conchology. We purchased a few of them, hoping to place them in the hands of some naturalist; but, with all the rest of our Oriental curiosities, they were destroyed on our homeward voyage by the officers of the pirate Florida.
While out sight-seeing we learned that there was a Museum, Public Library, and a Botanical or Public Garden, besides two Colleges, which were desirable places to visit. We accordingly went direct from the Old Curiosity Shop to Widdow’s Hotel,—a comfortable English inn on the same street,—and after refreshing ourselves with a generous tiffin, (a term used at the Cape, and at the East generally, for lunch,) took a carriage, and drove to the Kaffir College. This institution is designed for the education of the sons of Kaffir chiefs; and at the time of our visit had been established but two years. It is, to a certain extent, under Government patronage; and the parents only pay for the instruction of their sons a nominal sum in cattle.
Mr. Glover, the Principal, (who is a nephew of Sir George Grey, the former Governor of the Colony, but now Governor of New Zealand,) was absent, having gone to England to solicit further aid for the Institution. The establishment is handsomely situated in the curve of the bay; and, occupying a fine slope of land at the southwesterly foot of Table Mountain, commands an excellent view of the shipping. It is over a mile from town, and is well furnished with shrubbery and shade-trees; and having belonged to one of the early Dutch settlers, came under cultivation at the time of the first occupation of the Colony. The house and out-buildings were also erected by the first proprietors.
Some years ago this place fell into the hands of the Colonial Government, and at the time of the Sepoy Rebellion was used as a depot for horses, one thousand of which were purchased in the Colony for the use of Her Majesty’s forces in India, and kept here, in an immense Dutch barn, until they could be shipped to Calcutta.
This building is constructed of brick, and is provided with very high, thick walls, and pointed gables, having a roof supported by bamboo rafters, and covered with the Cape rush. It is now being put to good uses, having under its spacious roof the chapel, school-room, dining-hall, and most of the workshops occupied by the Kaffir students. The house, which faces seaward, is also built of brick, having two antiquely pointed gables roofed with tile, and is surrounded with picturesquely fashioned Oriental verandas. We regretted to learn that the clergyman in charge, during Mr. Glover’s visit to England, was also absent, having gone to town; but on being introduced to Mr. Hewitt, the Chief Warden, as strangers and Americans, who wished to see the Institution, and learn something of its history, plans, and prospects, this gentleman received us very kindly, and ushering us into the parlor, said he was sorry it was their half-holiday, as a number of their boys had just left for town, and we could not see them at their studies; but remarking that he would show us the establishment with pleasure, directly led the way to the principal building, of which we have already spoken, and which, in spite of its enormous proportions, was nearly hidden by trees and shrubbery.
We first entered the carpenter’s shop, where we found a number of boys at work, under the instruction of an English mechanic. Here Mr. Hewitt pointed out a lad of twelve or fifteen years of age, as a son of Umhala, one of the most distinguished Kaffir chiefs. The boy’s name was Condele, and he was in fact a prince of the blood royal. They all appeared cheerful and happy, although seemingly shy of strangers, and were diligently at work, making lecterns and other church furniture. Mr. Hewitt remarked that they worked chiefly on such articles, which were made of teak-wood and finished in a nice manner. We also visited the other workshops, which presented about the same appearance, excepting the tailoring-room, which was under the supervision of an English woman, whose sewing-class numbered but seven boys. The school-room was a large and airy apartment, floored with red tile, and well furnished with the necessary fixtures. Upon its walls were suspended maps and cards, and on the latter were printed texts of Scripture.
The chapel, a spacious and well-proportioned room, was appropriately fitted up with seats, having an altar, chancel, and reading-desk of teak-wood, all made by the students. It was used only for the daily Church Service, as on Sunday the officers and students attend worship at St. George’s Cathedral; and the choir of boys we heard there, as already stated, was composed of the students from this College. The walls were prettily painted in a sort of fresco, and were done con amore by some amateur lady-artists of Cape Town. Over the altar and between the two windows back of the chancel, there was a large illuminated cross, about which was entwined a vine; while over and at each side of it was traced in illuminated letters the text, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman.” The stone-colored, or shaded ground of the walls was flecked with what seemed to us a representation of the fleur-de-lis, although it may have been intended for the plume of the Prince of Wales. This was done in a tint of maroon. The floor was of wood, and carpeted, and the building was well ventilated,—the ceiling of all the apartments rising to the pointed roof, from which height a rustic chandelier was suspended, constructed of some dark wood, in the form of a cross, and furnished with sockets for candles.
The dining-room was long, ample, and furnished in a plain but comfortable manner; and the walls were ornamented with large engraved portraits of Queen Victoria, the Prince Consort, and their children, all in gilt frames. Prince Alfred, during his recent visit to the Cape, became greatly interested in this College, and on returning to England presented it with these pictures. The boys have a thoroughly religious and useful education, but at the same time each one is obliged to learn some trade. They are allowed to choose whatever handicraft they may fancy, and almost all trades were popular among them except that of the tailor, which is regarded as a menial service, and in their own country is always performed by women, who, wherever the light of the blessed gospel has not shone, to the practical illumination of the heart, are looked upon as a degraded and inferior class of beings. Gardening, for the same reason, is also in bad odor; and the pursuit of agriculture has yet to gain even a respectable position among these royal Kaffirs, who rarely work in the garden attached to the College, excepting when, as a slight form of punishment, they are adjudged to serve at that employment for a certain time.
The design of the Institution is preparatory,—the cleverest of the boys, as they advance in their studies, being sent to England for a more thorough education, after which they usually return to their native country as missionaries and teachers. One had already been sent there, and was pursuing his literary course at Oxford.
In the same building with the tailoring-room there was an English missionary lady, who had a class of six Kaffir girls. Three of them had been with her fifteen months; the rest a much shorter time. All of the former were quite proficient in reading, and one little creature, in particular, pronounced her words with an accent and voice of inimitable sweetness.
After walking through the garden, and the small vineyard adjoining, we returned to the parlor, where a very nice cup of tea awaited us; and our first introduction to this Eastern custom reminded us that we had already reached the neighborhood of the Orient. While we were refreshing ourselves, a large music-box (also the gift of Prince Alfred) discoursed some charming music; after which the gentlemanly warden gave each of the ladies a bouquet from the garden, and we left with agreeable impressions of that enlarged and noble Christian benevolence which had established the Institution, and was still steadily working for its advancement.
Mr. Hewitt had formerly been a missionary, and one of our party asking him if the Kaffir were more stupid and difficult of cultivation than other heathen, he replied that they were less so, and learned more readily. He also remarked that the boys possessed great facility in learning, and were quick and ready at all kinds of handicraft. The next morning a part of the missionary party on board our vessel also paid a visit to this College, and meeting the acting Principal, who had formerly been a missionary to the Kaffirs in the interior, had an interesting conversation with him about that race, together with their present religious condition and prospects. He regarded them as the descendants of Ishmael, and in proof of this pointed to one of the boys whom he thought of a decidedly Arab physiognomy. What further ground he had for such a theory we did not learn. The Kaffirs are readily distinguished from the other African tribes, and are considered more courageous, determined, and independent than the Hottentots, or Bechuanas, who, with the former, constitute the chief races of South Africa. Their skin is of a brownish black tint, while the Congos of the western coast are of a shining jet-black color.
On returning to the wharf we found that a light southeaster was again disturbing the waters of the bay; and setting sail for our ship, drove with so much violence before the wind that we not only shipped seas, but unshipped our rudder,—a circumstance which placed us, for the time being, in a position of more danger than we had been in since leaving New York.
As the Poyang was to be ready for sea the next afternoon, the early morning found us again in the streets of Cape Town,—it being our design to visit the Museum and Library, together with the Industrial Schools belonging to St. George’s Cathedral, and also, if possible, to take a peep at the Botanical Garden. All these, together with the Government buildings and the African College,—an institution open to the youth of the city,—are in the same neighborhood, and, situated on either side of the avenue of oaks mentioned as a continuation of Aderly Street, are enclosed by a brick wall. Over the entrance-gate leading from the street into the avenue, an inscription on the wall gives the year 1848 as the date of the foundation of the Library and Museum. The building appropriated to these institutions is a brick edifice of Grecian architecture, having a peristyle of Corinthian columns, and stands directly at the right of the entrance to the grounds above mentioned. At the time of our visit the exterior was not completed, but the building within was finished throughout in a substantial English style.
In the entrance-hall, or saloon, were a few pieces of statuary and some pictures; and on the right was a door leading to the Library, which is a commodious room with well-filled alcoves. We could not learn the number of volumes it contained, but the arrangements and fixtures were excellent,—each department and language having its separate alcove, and a desk for the use of visitors. There were also handsome and finely arranged library-tables placed at each end of the room, which, with the other fixtures, were made of the rich dark teak-wood; and suspended on the wall, at the head of this apartment, was a full-length portrait of Queen Victoria, arrayed in her royal robes. When Prince Alfred visited the Library, this painting was covered with drapery until the band struck up “God save the Queen!” then the son, on getting his first glimpse of this excellent picture,—a very life-like representation of Her Majesty,—was so overcome that he burst into tears.
Leading out of the Library we entered an apartment called the Educational Room, in which were all kinds of philosophical and chemical apparatus,—the last of which was particularly extensive. The walls of this room were literally covered with diagrams, paintings of botanical specimens, maps, and charts.
On the other side of the entrance-hall is the Museum, to which the public have access only for one day during the week. Our visit had fallen upon a day when it was closed; but the obliging librarian, being informed that we were Americans, and were to sail in the evening, went at once in search of the person in charge, who, on making his appearance, said he would admit us with pleasure, but must lock us in. Then showing us where we could touch a bell when we desired to go, he closed the door, and we found ourselves in a large apartment containing an extensive collection of well-preserved animals, birds, and reptiles, as well as geological and fossil specimens, and many curious and rare articles connected with the early history of the Colony. Our attention was particularly attracted by a large representation of the mammalia, ruminantia, and quadrumana; and the groups of hunting tigers and hyenas were so life-like in attitude and appearance as to disagreeably startle one on turning suddenly upon them. It did not require any great effort of the imagination to give these animals all the forms and features of life, or to fancy the savagely grinning creatures really regarding us as a very toothsome morsel ready for their enjoyment. There were very large collections of the ophidia and batrachia, preserved in spirits and stuffed. If the expression can be considered allowable, South Africa is certainly rich in reptiles. We noticed two remarkable skeletons of a python and a yellow cobra, with all their bones perfect and of an ivory whiteness. These were under glass cases, so arranged as to exhibit the reptiles in their natural attitudes; and with heads erect, lying half-straight and half-sinuous, the terrible beasts impressed us as frightfully hideous and life-like. The representations of the deer family were also numerous, comprising a stuffed specimen of nearly every buck mentioned by Sir Gordon Cumming; and a beautiful little animal called the clip-springer, which stood in the same group with the latter, was a very attractive and interesting object. There was also a fine collection of coral, and the specimens of radiata madrepora were very beautiful. Among the minerals we noticed several large and superb specimens of crystallized malachite.
The birds were very numerous, and were preserved in fine order, being arranged after the usual mode in glass cases, which entirely covered one side of the large room. The beauty of their plumage I shall not attempt to describe. Some of the most numerous were of the orders palmipedes, grallatores, and rasores;—the collection comprised specimens of nearly all the birds of South Africa, from the little humming-bird, with its exquisite rainbow tints, to the large, coarse, and sinewy ostrich,—with every variety of plumage, from the most gorgeous to the gravest hues. The bright and gay, however, predominated; and the red of the flamingo, the yellow and bright salmon of the parrot species, together with various green and orange-colored shades, were most numerous. Our admiration was greatly excited by a bird, as large perhaps as our common woodpecker, but in form very like our finest barnyard cocks. He was a spirited-looking creature, of true lordly port, with a handsomely shaped comb delicately edged with red, which formed a beautiful contrast with his rich, orange-colored plumage. The tips of his wings and tail were flecked with black, and he rejoiced in a name admirably in keeping with his bearing, being called the “cock of the rocks.”
A group of Kaffirs, composed of two men and a woman, done in plaster, and painted black, strikingly represented the contrast in social position of the two sexes among that people. The men, who were arrayed as native warriors, stood proudly looking up, in attitudes denoting independence, manly bearing, and self-reliance; while the woman, kneeling between them, having a downcast and servile expression of countenance and posture, with her infant fastened on her back, and in her hands a stone, significant of her readiness to perform the menial labor of grinding the corn, looked the impersonation of patient endurance and meek submission. The whole was spiritedly executed, and its faithful embodiment of the degrading influence of heathenism upon woman led us to feel more devoutly grateful, than we had ever before, for the blessed influences of Bible Christianity, which places our sex upon a secure religious and social equality with man.
We found here several interesting relics connected with the history of the old Dutch Colony, among which was an oaken chair covered with quaint carvings, upon which was fastened a card, setting forth that “Piet Gysbert Nood, Governor of the Colony of Good Hope, died in this chair in 1728.”
The Botanical Garden, which fronts the Library and Museum building, is rich in tropical trees, shrubs, and plants, and remarkable for containing a great variety of the cactus family. The arbors were covered with beautiful creepers, among which we noticed the passion-vine growing in much luxuriance.
The Industrial Schools are on the other side of the street, and occupy two buildings of gray stone. The one appropriated to the Infant School is a pretty little Gothic structure, and was established in 1850, under the patronage of the wife of Sir George Grey, being now called Lady Grey’s School. The advanced department was established by Lady Charlotte Bell, of England, in 1820. Although under government patronage, these schools are not entirely charitable institutions, a small sum being usually paid for tuition. The school-rooms are large and well supplied with fixtures, including a philosophical apparatus, which the managers of the advanced school have recently introduced at a great expense, for the purpose of extending the usefulness of the institution, and affording the advantages of a superior English education to all. The principal and several of the teachers now employed are from England, each having stipulated, before leaving home, to teach five years. In both schools the white and black children sit together, and are in the same classes. We found the principal (or rather preceptress) to be a gentle, intelligent, and lady-like person; and deeply regretted that we had not more time to remain, and learn something further of her particular experience in the education of colored children.
There are 32,000 people in the city of Cape Town, of whom 10,000 are Mohammedans, who have their priests, mosques, and schools. We met one of their priests in the streets, in full costume, with his Mecca-blessed comboloio, or rosary of beads, in his hand. A learned Oriental traveller once told us that a Mohammedan priest is rarely seen conversing without his beads, with which he toys much as a Spanish lady does with her fan.
There are five churches in Cape Town, one of which—the old Dutch Reformed Church in Aderly Street—was first built in 1713. The fort and city hospital, as well as all the other buildings and public works, are of a thoroughly substantial character; and a breakwater, the corner-stone of which was laid by Prince Alfred during his visit, and which is to extend from Green Point two miles out into the bay, was in process of construction while we were there. This great work, which will cost several millions of pounds, is built by casting large pieces of stone into the water until high enough to erect a stone-masonry upon them. At the time of our visit there had already been expended upon this enterprise the sum of one million of pounds sterling. Wharves, also, like those at Liverpool, are to be built. Every day our ears were greeted with the familiar screech of the steam-whistle,—as fifty miles of the railroad, which is to terminate at Port Elizabeth, on the eastern coast, were already completed and in running order. The whole work was to be finished during the autumn of 1862. The Custom-house is an extensive brick building, standing not far from the wooden jetty at the foot of Aderly Street.
The market is held in a large square, from four to six o’clock in the morning, when the vegetables and fruits remaining unsold are disposed of at auction. The cattle and sheep are much superior to those of St. Paul de Loando,—the sheep brought on board at that port bearing a strong resemblance to goats, and the wool (if it could be called wool) was much like the hair of that animal. The face of the creature was the only thing that looked sheepish. The different breeds of long-tailed sheep, for which the Cape was at one time so celebrated, are said to be almost extinct, the crosses of the Merinos and Leicesters having superseded them, as being more profitable, both on account of the quality of mutton and the fineness as well as the yield of wool. This article is exported to England in large quantities every year, and some of it, also, finds its way to America; but the staple and quality of the Cape wool has of late years greatly improved.