Weekend Argus (Saturday Edition)
By George! Guess which royals came to the braai!
Some key events from this week in history are reflected in these reports from the archives of the Argus’s 160-year-old titles
PEOPLE used to have braais at Kirstenbosch, and on one rare occasion in 1947, it turned out to be quite a royal affair.
On this occasion, two men – one of whom was destined to be state president – were startled as they tended their sizzling chops, by a familiar voice uttering the words “Kom kêrels!” (Come guys!).
Free State Nationalist leader CR Swart and his pal, JJ Serfontein, the MP for Boshof, were taken by surprise, and for good reason.
It was one thing to have their Kirstenbosch picnic disturbed by Prime Minister Jan Smuts. What they had not bargained for was an introduction to none other than King of England George VI, Queen Elizabeth, and the princesses Elizabeth (the current queen) and Margaret.
The third Nationalist in the picnic party, the future premier, JG Strijdom, was some distance away with the womenfolk. He was oblivious, but Swart and Serfontein were astonished.
The tour of the botanical gardens was unscheduled, Smuts having deviated from the official Royal Visit programme of Tuesday, February 18 to show off a charming nook of the Union.
The Nationalists, the Cape Argus reported, were briefly embarrassed on account of their informal attire, though the queen put them at ease, telling them she’d heard all about the national ritual of the “braaivleis”.
Her bewildered subjects apparently relaxed, and the talk soon turned to legendary Karoo lamb – Swart, who regretted that “our roast is not ready yet”, assuring them they would have fine lamb when they visited the Free State – and then to the weather, the king marvelling at the “brilliance of the sunshine”. It was all convivial. Though Hendrik Verwoerd (then editor of Die Transvaler, and, later, the man who would mastermind South Africa’s break with Commonwealth and queen and all that) vowed not to participate in any royal revelry in 1947 – Cape Town, it seems, was agog.
On February 17, the report “All night wait on route of procession, crowds orderly and cheerful” – described how “Tens of thousands of people flocked to the centre of the city last night to see the final decorations on the royal processional route”.
“Adderley Street was packed with sightseers, many of whom had brought their children to see the gaily decorated shops and the multi-coloured electric lamps outlining many of the buildings.
“In places the crowds were so dense that they filled the streets and traffic police had great difficulty in clearing a passage for the hundreds of cars that moved about the city.
“Everywhere there was a gala mood and an air of happy expectancy. Youngsters with baskets of flags, buttons and rosettes did a roaring trade, for the crowds had already entered into the spirit of welcome.”
Some decided to stay the night.
“One party that camped on the kerbside had come well prepared with packed hampers and thermos sacks. Quite undeterred by the thought of their long wait they laughed and sang to the music of a mouth organ, happy in the thought that they had secured a site where they could see the royal procession pass them twice.”
Nearly half a century earlier, much of the news of the day was consumed by a British visitation of another order, whose overconfidence led to some early reverses; the Boer War drew a large military force to South Africa, but the republican guerrillas from the Free State and the Transvaal struck fast and early, besieging the towns of Ladysmith, Kimberley and Mafeking.
On February 16, 1900, Cape Town readers were given the following account of life in besieged Ladysmith (then nearing the February 28 end of its 118-day encirclement by General Louis Botha’s forces). It was provided by Reuters correspondent Arthur Hatton, who also shared details of his escape from the town to Durban, with the help of friendly Zulu scouts.
Hatton wrote: “Since the furious cannonade during the early part of the week, quietness has reigned supreme. The hills on which the relief column’s Lyddite shells were bursting in hundreds a few days ago are now only occupied by grazing cattle; yet still further away, on the north side of Spionkop, the Boer laagers can be seen, evidently bigger than before, showing that the enemy have no idea at present of retiring from their positions.
“Much disappointment is felt at the non-appearance of General Buller, as, from the severity of the fire, every heart was glowing with hope and excitement at the prospect of immediate relief; not that we were attacked by ‘blues’, for every man capable of shouldering a rifle is confident of our ability to hold the town against any force the Boers are capable of putting in the field against us.
“Still, a continual diet of horse, mule, etcetera gets somewhat monotonous, although the health of the camp, taking everything into consideration, is better than could be expected. Enteric and dysentery have abated, but camp fever, though not of a virulent nature, is slightly increasing.
“Should the enemy attempt another attack, he will get a very warm reception, as every point is now being rendered almost impregnable. In fact, the enemy would be wel- come to relieve the monotonous life. They rarely shell us, evidently thinking they can starve us out.”
In 1947, when the royals visited, Smuts, a veteran commander of the Boer guerrilla war, was some 15 months away from another defeat, this time at the polls, and the “kêrels” of his and the King’s Kirstenbosch encounter were among the authors of it.
In May 1948, Smuts’s United Party fell to the Nationalists and would never recover. South Africa, it could be said, is still trying to recover.