Mine Host
Has Just Bought A Horse, Which He Is Going To Try With A Petticoat
To-Day, And If He Goes Well I Shall Ride.
I like this inn-life, because I see all the 'neighbourhood' -
farmers and traders - whom I like far better than the GENTILITY of
Capetown.
I have given letters to England to a 'boer', who is
'going home', i.e. to Europe, the FIRST OF HIS RACE SINCE THE
REVOCATION OF THE EDICT OF NANTES, when some poor refugees were
inveigled hither by the Dutch Governor, and oppressed worse than
the Hottentots. M. de Villiers has had no education AT ALL, and
has worked, and traded, and farmed, - but the breed tells; he is a
pure and thorough Frenchman, unable to speak a word of French.
When I went in to dinner, he rose and gave me a chair with a bow
which, with his appearance, made me ask, 'Monsieur vient
d'arriver?' This at once put him out and pleased him. He is very
unlike a Dutchman. If you think that any of the French will feel
as I felt to this far-distant brother of theirs, pray give him a
few letters; but remember that he can speak only English and Dutch,
and a little German. Here his name is CALLED 'Filljee', but I told
him to drop that barbarism in Europe; De Villiers ought to speak
for itself. He says they came from the neighbourhood of Bordeaux.
The postmaster, Heer Klein, and his old Pylades, Heer Ley, are
great cronies of mine - stout old greybeards, toddling down the hill
together. I sometimes go and sit on the stoep with the two old
bachelors, and they take it as a great compliment; and Heer Klein
gave me my letters all decked with flowers, and wished 'Vrolyke
tydings, Mevrouw,' most heartily. He has also made his tributary
mail-cart Hottentots bring from various higher mountain ranges the
beautiful everlasting flowers, which will make pretty wreaths for
J-. When I went to his house to thank him, I found a handsome
Malay, with a basket of 'Klipkaus', a shell-fish much esteemed
here. Old Klein told me they were sent him by a Malay who was born
in his father's house, a slave, and had been HIS 'BOY' and play-
fellow. Now, the slave is far richer than the old young master,
and no waggon comes without a little gift - oranges, fish, &c. - for
'Wilhem'. When Klein goes to Capetown, the old Malay seats him in
a grand chair and sits on a little wooden stool at his feet; Klein
begs him, as 'Huisheer', to sit properly; but, 'Neen Wilhem, Ik zal
niet; ik kan niet vergeten.' 'Good boy!' said old Klein; 'good
people the Malays.' It is a relief, after the horrors one has
heard of Dutch cruelty, to see such an 'idyllisches Verhaltniss'.
I have heard other instances of the same fidelity from Malays, but
they were utterly unappreciated, and only told to prove the
excellence of slavery, and 'how well the rascals must have been
off'.
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