—Pudd’nhead Wilson’s New Calendar.
The Duke of Fife has borne testimony2 that Mr. Rhodes deceived him. That is also what Mr. Rhodes did with the Reformers. He got them into trouble, and then stayed out himself. A judicious3 man. He has always been that. As to this there was a moment of doubt, once. It was when he was out on his last pirating expedition in the Matabele country. The cable shouted out that he had gone unarmed, to visit a party of hostile chiefs. It was true, too; and this dare-devil thing came near fetching another indiscretion out of the poet laureate. It would have been too bad, for when the facts were all in, it turned out that there was a lady along, too, and she also was unarmed.
In the opinion of many people Mr. Rhodes is South Africa; others think he is only a large part of it. These latter consider that South Africa consists of Table Mountain, the diamond mines, the Johannesburg gold fields, and Cecil Rhodes. The gold fields are wonderful in every way. In seven or eight years they built up, in a desert, a city of a hundred thousand inhabitants, counting white and black together; and not the ordinary mining city of wooden shanties4, but a city made out of lasting5 material. Nowhere in the world is there such a concentration of rich mines as at Johannesburg. Mr. Bonamici, my manager there, gave me a small gold brick with some statistics engraved6 upon it which record the output of gold from the early days to July, 1895, and exhibit the strides which have been made in the development of the industry; in 1888 the output was $4,162,440; the output of the next five and a half years was (total) $17,585,894); for the single year ending with June, 1895, it was $45,553,700.
The capital which has developed the mines came from England, the mining engineers from America. This is the case with the diamond mines also. South Africa seems to be the heaven of the American scientific mining engineer. He gets the choicest places, and keeps them. His salary is not based upon what he would get in America, but apparently7 upon what a whole family of him would get there.
The successful mines pay great dividends8, yet the rock is not rich, from a Californian point of view. Rock which yields ten or twelve dollars a ton is considered plenty rich enough. It is troubled with base metals to such a degree that twenty years ago it would have been only about half as valuable as it is now; for at that time there was no paying way of getting anything out of such rock but the coarser-grained “free” gold; but the new cyanide process has changed all that, and the gold fields of the world now deliver up fifty million dollars’ worth of gold per year which would have gone into the tailing-pile under the former conditions.
The cyanide process was new to me, and full of interest; and among the costly9 and elaborate mining machinery11 there were fine things which were new to me, but I was already familiar with the rest of the details of the gold-mining industry. I had been a gold miner myself, in my day, and knew substantially everything that those people knew about it, except how to make money at it. But I learned a good deal about the Boers there, and that was a fresh subject. What I heard there was afterwards repeated to me in other parts of South Africa. Summed up—according to the information thus gained—this is the Boer:
He is deeply religious, profoundly ignorant, dull, obstinate12, bigoted13, uncleanly in his habits, hospitable14, honest in his dealings with the whites, a hard master to his black servant, lazy, a good shot, good horseman, addicted15 to the chase, a lover of political independence, a good husband and father, not fond of herding16 together in towns, but liking17 the seclusion18 and remoteness and solitude19 and empty vastness and silence of the veldt; a man of a mighty20 appetite, and not delicate about what he appeases21 it with—well-satisfied with pork and Indian corn and biltong, requiring only that the quantity shall not be stinted22; willing to ride a long journey to take a hand in a rude all-night dance interspersed24 with vigorous feeding and boisterous26 jollity, but ready to ride twice as far for a prayer-meeting; proud of his Dutch and Huguenot origin and its religious and military history; proud of his race’s achievements in South Africa, its bold plunges27 into hostile and uncharted deserts in search of free solitudes28 unvexed by the pestering29 and detested30 English, also its victories over the natives and the British; proudest of all, of the direct and effusive31 personal interest which the Deity32 has always taken in its affairs. He cannot read, he cannot write; he has one or two newspapers, but he is, apparently, not aware of it; until latterly he had no schools, and taught his children nothing, news is a term which has no meaning to him, and the thing itself he cares nothing about. He hates to be taxed and resents it. He has stood stock still in South Africa for two centuries and a half, and would like to stand still till the end of time, for he has no sympathy with Uitlander notions of progress. He is hungry to be rich, for he is human; but his preference has been for riches in cattle, not in fine clothes and fine houses and gold and diamonds. The gold and the diamonds have brought the godless stranger within his gates, also contamination and broken repose33, and he wishes that they had never been discovered.
I think that the bulk of those details can be found in Olive Schreiner’s books, and she would not be accused of sketching34 the Boer’s portrait with an unfair hand.
Now what would you expect from that unpromising material? What ought you to expect from it? Laws inimical to religious liberty? Yes. Laws denying, representation and suffrage35 to the intruder? Yes. Laws unfriendly to educational institutions? Yes. Laws obstructive of gold production? Yes. Discouragement of railway expansion? Yes. Laws heavily taxing the intruder and overlooking the Boer? Yes.
The Uitlander seems to have expected something very different from all that. I do not know why. Nothing different from it was rationally to be expected. A round man cannot be expected to fit a square hole right away. He must have time to modify his shape. The modification37 had begun in a detail or two, before the Raid, and was making some progress. It has made further progress since. There are wise men in the Boer government, and that accounts for the modification; the modification of the Boer mass has probably not begun yet. If the heads of the Boer government had not been wise men they would have hanged Jameson, and thus turned a very commonplace pirate into a holy martyr38. But even their wisdom has its limits, and they will hang Mr. Rhodes if they ever catch him. That will round him and complete him and make him a saint. He has already been called by all other titles that symbolize39 human grandeur40, and he ought to rise to this one, the grandest of all. It will be a dizzy jump from where he is now, but that is nothing, it will land him in good company and be a pleasant change for him.
Some of the things demanded by the Johannesburgers’ Manifesto41 have been conceded since the days of the Raid, and the others will follow in time, no doubt. It was most fortunate for the miners of Johannesburg that the taxes which distressed42 them so much were levied43 by the Boer government, instead of by their friend Rhodes and his Chartered Company of highwaymen, for these latter take half of whatever their mining victims find, they do not stop at a mere44 percentage. If the Johannesburg miners were under their jurisdiction45 they would be in the poorhouse in twelve months.
I have been under the impression all along that I had an unpleasant paragraph about the Boers somewhere in my notebook, and also a pleasant one. I have found them now. The unpleasant one is dated at an interior village, and says—
“Mr. Z. called. He is an English Afrikander; is an old resident, and has a Boer wife. He speaks the language, and his professional business is with the Boers exclusively. He told me that the ancient Boer families in the great region of which this village is the commercial center are falling victims to their inherited indolence and dullness in the materialistic46 latter-day race and struggle, and are dropping one by one into the grip of the usurer—getting hopelessly in debt—and are losing their high place and retiring to second and lower. The Boer’s farm does not go to another Boer when he loses it, but to a foreigner. Some have fallen so low that they sell their daughters to the blacks.”
Under date of another South African town I find the note which is creditable to the Boers:
“Dr. X. told me that in the Kafir war 1,500 Kafirs took refuge in a great cave in the mountains about 90 miles north of Johannesburg, and the Boers blocked up the entrance and smoked them to death. Dr. X. has been in there and seen the great array of bleached47 skeletons—one a woman with the skeleton of a child hugged to her breast.”
The great bulk of the savages48 must go. The white man wants their lands, and all must go excepting such percentage of them as he will need to do his work for him upon terms to be determined49 by himself. Since history has removed the element of guesswork from this matter and made it certainty, the humanest way of diminishing the black population should be adopted, not the old cruel ways of the past. Mr. Rhodes and his gang have been following the old ways.—They are chartered to rob and slay50, and they lawfully51 do it, but not in a compassionate52 and Christian53 spirit. They rob the Mashonas and the Matabeles of a portion of their territories in the hallowed old style of “purchase!” for a song, and then they force a quarrel and take the rest by the strong hand. They rob the natives of their cattle under the pretext54 that all the cattle in the country belonged to the king whom they have tricked and assassinated55. They issue “regulations” requiring the incensed56 and harassed57 natives to work for the white settlers, and neglect their own affairs to do it. This is slavery, and is several times worse than was the American slavery which used to pain England so much; for when this Rhodesian slave is sick, super-annuated, or otherwise disabled, he must support himself or starve—his master is under no obligation to support him.
The reduction of the population by Rhodesian methods to the desired limit is a return to the old-time slow-misery and lingering-death system of a discredited58 time and a crude “civilization.” We humanely59 reduce an overplus of dogs by swift chloroform; the Boer humanely reduced an overplus of blacks by swift suffocation60; the nameless but right-hearted Australian pioneer humanely reduced his overplus of aboriginal61 neighbors by a sweetened swift death concealed62 in a poisoned pudding. All these are admirable, and worthy63 of praise; you and I would rather suffer either of these deaths thirty times over in thirty successive days than linger out one of the Rhodesian twenty-year deaths, with its daily burden of insult, humiliation64, and forced labor10 for a man whose entire race the victim hates. Rhodesia is a happy name for that land of piracy65 and pillage66, and puts the right stain upon it.
Several long journeys—gave us experience of the Cape67 Colony railways; easy-riding, fine cars; all the conveniences; thorough cleanliness; comfortable beds furnished for the night trains. It was in the first days of June, and winter; the daytime was pleasant, the nighttime nice and cold. Spinning along all day in the cars it was ecstasy68 to breathe the bracing69 air and gaze out over the vast brown solitudes of the velvet70 plains, soft and lovely near by, still softer and lovelier further away, softest and loveliest of all in the remote distances, where dim island-hills seemed afloat, as in a sea—a sea made of dream-stuff and flushed with colors faint and rich; and dear me, the depth of the sky, and the beauty of the strange new cloud-forms, and the glory of the sunshine, the lavishness71, the wastefulness72 of it! The vigor25 and freshness and inspiration of the air and the sun—well, it was all just as Olive Schreiner had made it in her books.
To me the veldt, in its sober winter garb73, was surpassingly beautiful. There were unlevel stretches where it was rolling and swelling74, and rising and subsiding75, and sweeping76 superbly on and on, and still on and on like an ocean, toward the faraway horizon, its pale brown deepening by delicately graduated shades to rich orange, and finally to purple and crimson77 where it washed against the wooded hills and naked red crags at the base of the sky.
Everywhere, from Cape Town to Kimberley and from Kimberley to Port Elizabeth and East London, the towns were well populated with tamed blacks; tamed and Christianized too, I suppose, for they wore the dowdy78 clothes of our Christian civilization. But for that, many of them would have been remarkably79 handsome. These fiendish clothes, together with the proper lounging gait, good-natured face, happy air, and easy laugh, made them precise counterparts of our American blacks; often where all the other aspects were strikingly and harmoniously80 and thrillingly African, a flock of these natives would intrude36, looking wholly out of place, and spoil it all, making the thing a grating discord81, half African and half American.
One Sunday in King William’s Town a score of colored women came mincing82 across the great barren square dressed—oh, in the last perfection of fashion, and newness, and expensiveness, and showy mixture of unrelated colors,—all just as I had seen it so often at home; and in their faces and their gait was that languishing83, aristocratic, divine delight in their finery which was so familiar to me, and had always been such a satisfaction to my eye and my heart. I seemed among old, old friends; friends of fifty years, and I stopped and cordially greeted them. They broke into a good-fellowship laugh, flashing their white teeth upon me, and all answered at once. I did not understand a word they said. I was astonished; I was not dreaming that they would answer in anything but American.
The voices, too, of the African women, were familiar to me sweet and musical, just like those of the slave women of my early days. I followed a couple of them all over the Orange Free State—no, over its capital—Bloemfontein, to hear their liquid voices and the happy ripple84 of their laughter. Their language was a large improvement upon American. Also upon the Zulu. It had no Zulu clicks in it; and it seemed to have no angles or corners, no roughness, no vile85 s’s or other hissing86 sounds, but was very, very mellow87 and rounded and flowing.
In moving about the country in the trains, I had opportunity to see a good many Boers of the veldt. One day at a village station a hundred of them got out of the third-class cars to feed.
Their clothes were very interesting. For ugliness of shapes, and for miracles of ugly colors inharmoniously associated, they were a record. The effect was nearly as exciting and interesting as that produced by the brilliant and beautiful clothes and perfect taste always on view at the Indian railway stations. One man had corduroy trousers of a faded chewing gum tint23. And they were new—showing that this tint did not come by calamity88, but was intentional89; the very ugliest color I have ever seen. A gaunt, shackly country lout90 six feet high, in battered91 gray slouched hat with wide brim, and old resin-colored breeches, had on a hideous92 brand-new woolen93 coat which was imitation tiger skin—wavy broad stripes of dazzling yellow and deep brown. I thought he ought to be hanged, and asked the station-master if it could be arranged. He said no; and not only that, but said it rudely; said it with a quite unnecessary show of feeling. Then he muttered something about my being a jackass, and walked away and pointed94 me out to people, and did everything he could to turn public sentiment against me. It is what one gets for trying to do good.
In the train that day a passenger told me some more about Boer life out in the lonely veldt. He said the Boer gets up early and sets his “niggers” at their tasks (pasturing the cattle, and watching them); eats, smokes, drowses, sleeps; toward evening superintends the milking, etc.; eats, smokes, drowses; goes to bed at early candlelight in the fragrant95 clothes he (and she) have worn all day and every week-day for years. I remember that last detail, in Olive Schreiner’s “Story of an African Farm.” And the passenger told me that the Boers were justly noted96 for their hospitality. He told me a story about it. He said that his grace the Bishop97 of a certain See was once making a business-progress through the tavernless veldt, and one night he stopped with a Boer; after supper was shown to bed; he undressed, weary and worn out, and was soon sound asleep; in the night he woke up feeling crowded and suffocated98, and found the old Boer and his fat wife in bed with him, one on each side, with all their clothes on, and snoring. He had to stay there and stand it—awake and suffering—until toward dawn, when sleep again fell upon him for an hour. Then he woke again. The Boer was gone, but the wife was still at his side.
Those Reformers detested that Boer prison; they were not used to cramped99 quarters and tedious hours, and weary idleness, and early to bed, and limited movement, and arbitrary and irritating rules, and the absence of the luxuries which wealth comforts the day and the night with. The confinement100 told upon their bodies and their spirits; still, they were superior men, and they made the best that was to be made of the circumstances. Their wives smuggled101 delicacies102 to them, which helped to smooth the way down for the prison fare.
In the train Mr. B. told me that the Boer jail-guards treated the black prisoners—even political ones—mercilessly. An African chief and his following had been kept there nine months without trial, and during all that time they had been without shelter from rain and sun. He said that one day the guards put a big black in the stocks for dashing his soup on the ground; they stretched his legs painfully wide apart, and set him with his back down hill; he could not endure it, and put back his hands upon the slope for a support. The guard ordered him to withdraw the support and kicked him in the back. “Then,” said Mr. B., “‘the powerful black wrenched103 the stocks asunder104 and went for the guard; a Reform prisoner pulled him off, and thrashed the guard himself."
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1
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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judicious
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| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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shanties
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| n.简陋的小木屋( shanty的名词复数 )；铁皮棚屋；船工号子；船歌 | |
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lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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dividends
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| 红利( dividend的名词复数 )； 股息； 被除数； （足球彩票的）彩金 | |
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costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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bigoted
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| adj.固执己见的，心胸狭窄的 | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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addicted
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| adj.沉溺于....的，对...上瘾的 | |
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herding
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| 中畜群 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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appeases
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| 安抚，抚慰( appease的第三人称单数 )； 绥靖（满足另一国的要求以避免战争） | |
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stinted
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| v.限制，节省（stint的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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interspersed
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| adj.[医]散开的；点缀的v.intersperse的过去式和过去分词 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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boisterous
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| adj.喧闹的，欢闹的 | |
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plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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solitudes
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| n.独居( solitude的名词复数 )；孤独；荒僻的地方；人迹罕至的地方 | |
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pestering
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| 使烦恼，纠缠( pester的现在分词 ) | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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effusive
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| adj.热情洋溢的；感情(过多)流露的 | |
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deity
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| n.神，神性；被奉若神明的人(或物) | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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sketching
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| n.草图 | |
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suffrage
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| n.投票，选举权，参政权 | |
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intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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modification
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| n.修改，改进，缓和，减轻 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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symbolize
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| vt.作为...的象征，用符号代表 | |
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40
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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manifesto
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| n.宣言，声明 | |
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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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levied
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| 征（兵）( levy的过去式和过去分词 )； 索取； 发动（战争）； 征税 | |
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44
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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jurisdiction
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| n.司法权，审判权，管辖权，控制权 | |
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materialistic
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| a.唯物主义的，物质享乐主义的 | |
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bleached
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| 漂白的，晒白的，颜色变浅的 | |
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savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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50
slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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51
lawfully
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| adv.守法地，合法地；合理地 | |
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52
compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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53
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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54
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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assassinated
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| v.暗杀( assassinate的过去式和过去分词 )；中伤；诋毁；破坏 | |
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56
incensed
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| 盛怒的 | |
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57
harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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discredited
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| 不足信的，不名誉的 | |
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humanely
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| adv.仁慈地；人道地；富人情地；慈悲地 | |
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60
suffocation
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| n.窒息 | |
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aboriginal
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| adj.（指动植物）土生的，原产地的，土著的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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piracy
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| n.海盗行为，剽窃，著作权侵害 | |
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pillage
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| v.抢劫；掠夺；n.抢劫，掠夺；掠夺物 | |
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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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lavishness
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| n.浪费，过度 | |
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wastefulness
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| 浪费，挥霍，耗费 | |
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garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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subsiding
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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dowdy
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| adj.不整洁的；过旧的 | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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harmoniously
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| 和谐地，调和地 | |
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discord
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| n.不和，意见不合，争论，（音乐）不和谐 | |
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mincing
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| adj.矫饰的；v.切碎；切碎 | |
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languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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intentional
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| adj.故意的，有意（识）的 | |
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lout
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| n.粗鄙的人；举止粗鲁的人 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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woolen
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| adj.羊毛(制)的；毛纺的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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suffocated
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| （使某人）窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 )； （将某人）闷死； 让人感觉闷热； 憋气 | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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smuggled
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| 水货 | |
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delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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asunder
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| adj.分离的，化为碎片 | |
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