1784 at the Cape of Good Hope: The Sévère, Aling at Drakenstein, Pondicherry Leaves, and Two Memorials

Tenth Full Installed Year: Castle Continuity — 1784

Calendar 1784 opened as the tenth full year of the Prince’s commission dated the 18th of May 1774. Joachim van Plettenberg still sat the first chair, a Friesland baron already raised, in February 1776, to councillor extraordinary of Netherlands India. His March 1781 request to be relieved had been granted in Amsterdam with honour and warm thanks when the Seventeen adopted the committee report on the 3rd of December 1783, yet no successor sat a Table Bay quay when January opened. Pieter Hacker still sat the second chair. Jan Jacob Serrurier still sat the fiscal’s office as the council’s acting, with Willem Cornelis Boers already off that chair from April 1783 and with bail of a little over £1,000 on any European sailing before the charges against him were decided. The three Cape names still heard in Amsterdam — Jacobus van Reenen, Barend Jacob Artois, and Nicholas Godfried Heyns — had waited inside the war with Tieleman Roos already dead. The Seventeen’s paper of the 3rd of December was on the next ships. The tenth year therefore opened on a first chair who had been thanked and not yet replaced, an acting fiscal, and a report that had granted a high court of six and six and had not granted the trade the four hundred and four had asked. [3] [9]

In the country the inherited chairs still sat when January opened. Daniel van Ryneveld still sat Stellenbosch and Drakenstein, the drostdy he had taken from Olof Godlieb de Wet, now master of the warehouses. Abraham Faure still sat the secretaryship under him. Constantyn van Nuld Onkruydt still sat Swellendam. Christoffel Brand still sat the winter port. Justinus van Gennep still sat the naval establishment the old skipper Staring had left in a neutral ship. Captain Robert Jacob Gordon still sat the garrison he had taken in February 1780, a man of unblemished character, an enthusiast in natural history, and an ardent explorer, but with no special qualifications as a leader in war. Captain Carel Matthys Willem de Lille still sat next after Gordon. Major Philip Herman Gilquin still sat the works he had directed since June 1779. The seamen and mechanics remained under Van Gennep. The outposts at Saldanha Bay, Groenkloof, Klapmuts, Zonder End, Buffeljagts River, and the woodcutters’ post at Zwart River in Outeniqualand were still maintained. [3]

The pulpits of the tenth full installed year opened on the same Cape names the ninth year had closed on. The Rev. Johannes Frederik Bode and the Rev. Johannes Petrus Serrurier of Hanau, with the Rev. Christiaan Fleck, still sat the Cape church in January. Stellenbosch still sat the Rev. Philip Kuys. Waveren still sat the Rev. Johannes Abraham Kuys. Zwartland still sat a consulent from March 1783, the Rev. Daniel Goldbach already dead. Drakenstein’s pulpit still sat empty from March 1781, when Van der Spuy had been obliged to retire on pension, owing to age and bodily infirmities. The Lutheran pulpit that Andreas Kolver had opened on the 10th of December 1780 still sat in Martin Melk’s Strand Street church, paid by the congregation, without a stiver from the Company’s chest. [3]

Outward, the land regime still opened on the 14 November 1780 names. The Fish river along the whole of its lower course remained the colonial boundary, with the Zuurveld added on paper to the Company’s possessions. Adriaan van Jaarsveld still sat Bruintjes Hoogte with military authority over the whole of the border farmers. The third drostdy still did not sit. On the frontiers the first chair had usually taken three young bullocks instead of the £4 16s. San marauders still disturbed the Nieuwveld, the Sneeuwberg, and the Winterberg. The struggle along the northern border had become almost incessant. Calendar 1784 inherited that border as the ninth year had left it: the Fish cleared in July 1781, the 5,300 head allowed on the 9th of October, and no third drostdy written on the map. The Swiss regiment of Meuron still sat the chairs Luxembourg had left in February 1783. The French regiment of Pondicherry still sat the hospital wing in January, not in the Company’s pay, kept after peace until April. Notes, not specie, still met the Castle’s bills after the 30th of April 1782. Peace had been concluded in September 1783, but the old order of things could not at once be restored. [3]

Sévère on Blueberg Beach — 27 January 1784

On the 27th of January 1784 the French 64-gun ship Sévère when trying to beat up to the anchorage in Table Bay missed stays, and ran ashore on the Blueberg beach. She became a total wreck, but her crew got away safely in boats. January therefore put a French two-decker on the northern sand of the bay, four months after the September peace, and put living men into boats instead of into a Cape hospital. The hull did not sit the roadstead. It sat the Blueberg beach. [3]

The tenth year already knew wrecks on this coast. On the 11th of July 1783 the Danish outward-bound Nicobar had gone to pieces a little to the eastward of Cape Agulhas, with only eleven of her crew on land. On the 24th of September 1782 the French corvette Victor had gone to pieces beyond Salt River. On the 4th of August 1782 the English East India Company’s Grosvenor had been lost a few miles north of the Umzimvubu. January did not organise another Mulder riding for the Sévère. It wrote a French 64 as a total wreck on Blueberg beach, and wrote her company as saved in boats. The bay that had taken the Jonge Thomas in June 1773, and had taken Wolraad Woltemaade under a breaker, took a French two-decker in the first month of the tenth year, in daylight, on a missed stay, with the crew still able to lower. [3]

Blueberg beach sat north of the roadstead, on the sand the Castle watched when a hull missed the anchorage. The Sévère had been trying to beat up. She missed stays. She ran ashore. A stay missed in Table Bay in January was not a gale from the north-west and was not a hidden reef at Robben Island. It was a French 64 that did not come round, and a beach that took her. Pondicherry still sat the hospital wing that month. Meuron still sat the Swiss chairs. The French flag still sat the Cape as ally and as customer, four months after the peace, and the first French name the tenth year wrote on the coast ledger was a wreck. [3] [9]

Her crew got away safely in boats. January therefore did not put a French death-roll on the Castle table beside the Nicobar’s eleven. It put boats on the Blueberg water, and it put a total wreck on the northern beach. The tenth year opened on that sand. The first chair still sat. The acting fiscal still sat. The Seventeen’s December paper was still on the water. The Sévère did not wait for a new governor, or for Pondicherry’s embarkation, or for a Drakenstein clergyman. She missed stays on the 27th of January, and the year wrote her there. [3]

Pondicherry Leaves; Aling Arrives — April 1784

In April 1784 the regiment of Pondicherry embarked for Mauritius. It had been sent to assist the Dutch, but was not in the pay of the Company. It had landed in July 1781 under Colonel Conway, an Irishman in the French service, had marched overland from Simon’s Bay, and had sat a wing of the new hospital that was not yet completed, though eighty to a hundred men had been working upon it for nearly nine years. It had remained at the Cape until some time after the conclusion of peace. April therefore took the French infantry off the hospital wing, three years after Suffren’s arrival, and put them on a Mauritius passage. Meuron still sat. Some five hundred Dutch infantry still sat under Gordon. Gilquin still sat the Table Valley works. The defence of the Cape after April was a Swiss regiment, a Dutch remainder, and the works already standing — not a French line in the hospital wing. [3] [9]

From the moment Pondicherry had stepped ashore, Cape Town had become a different place. The French had brought prosperity in which every Capetonian could participate — from the shoe-shine boy on the Parade and the free-black wigmaker in Dorpstraat to the waggon-maker in Rondebosch and the wine merchant in Wynberg. Dressmakers and milliners had worked overtime. The period had given the town the name of Little Paris. The directors at Amsterdam became alarmed when they ascertained what large amounts were due in Holland for house furniture alone purchased on credit, and complained that the Cape was becoming known to travellers as Little Paris. April took the regiment that had sat at the centre of that prosperity and put it on a Mauritius ship. Meuron remained. Meuron was not Pondicherry’s match as a public entertainer. [3] [9]

The same month the Rev. Robert Nicholas Aling was sent out by the directors and succeeded Van der Spuy at Drakenstein. The pulpit had sat empty from March 1781. Three years of a consulent’s care, and of a congregation that had been an arena of strife in the early years of the period, closed in April when Aling took the charge. He was appointed at a time when peace reigned among the congregation. A few years previously there had been some dissension. The election in January 1772 of Thomas Arnoldus Theron as an elder had been objected to by a considerable section of the congregation, on the ground that he was not properly qualified. Four of the opposite faction had been excommunicated by the consistory. By 1775 the strife had been so great that many persons refused to attend the services, and the disaffected party had sent Pieter Marais and Jan Roos to Holland. The directors had declined to interfere. The classis of Amsterdam had tried to conciliate. The dissension had continued until Van der Spuy’s retirement. April 1784 therefore put a new clergyman on a pulpit that had been empty for three years, and put him on a congregation that was at last at peace. [3] [8]

Drakenstein’s French names still sat under a Dutch pulpit. Aling was one of the clergymen of that congregation who could speak the French language well, in a church that had been Pierre Simond’s, then Hendrik Bek’s, then Petrus van Aken’s, then Francois le Sueur’s, before the later succession that ended on Van der Spuy’s pension. April did not restore a French sermon as of right. It put a director-sent clergyman on the Paarl charge, in the year the French infantry left the hospital wing, and it put him on a congregation whose earlier strife over an elder had already been written into the classis letters. The tenth year therefore wrote two April names onto the Cape: Pondicherry on a Mauritius passage, and Aling on the Drakenstein pulpit. [3] [8]

The acting fiscal still sat in April. Hacker still sat the second chair. Van Reenen, Artois, and Heyns still sat in Amsterdam, with the December 1783 report already adopted and already a bitter disappointment. Using the prevailing war conditions as an excuse for not giving in to the demands of the Cape names, only insignificant concessions had been offered: a high court reconstituted to six Company servants beside the president and six burghers, gardens for use but not for sale, compounding restricted to £40, banishment not taken off the Castle but to be used sparingly, with a choice of Europe or India. Free trade with Europe and India had not been granted. Appeals to the Fatherland had not been granted. Seven burgher seats in the council of policy had not been granted. April took a French regiment off the Cape and put a clergyman on Drakenstein. It did not take the Seventeen’s paper off the table. [3] [9]

Bode Dies and the Hoop Wrecks — July 1784

In July 1784 the number of Cape Town clergymen was again reduced to two by the death of Mr Bode. The church in Cape Town had continued to be ministered to by three clergymen until December 1778, when Kroonenburg retired on pension. The directors had then annulled their former decision not to appoint a successor, and had sent Fleck, inducted as third clergyman in January 1781. July took Bode off that third chair. Serrurier of Hanau and Fleck still sat. Stellenbosch still sat Philip Kuys. Waveren still sat Johannes Abraham Kuys. Zwartland still sat a consulent. Drakenstein now sat Aling, three months in the charge. The Lutheran nave still sat Kolver, paid by Melk’s congregation. July therefore wrote a Reformed death onto the Cape church, and wrote the town again down to two. [3]

On the 7th of July following the Sévère, the Company’s ship Hoop ran ashore in the night close to Mouille Point, and became a wreck. Only one of her crew was lost. July therefore put a Company hull on the western rocks of the bay, six months after a French 64 had sat the Blueberg sand, and put one death on the Castle table where January had put none. Mouille Point sat the other side of the roadstead from Blueberg. The Sévère had missed stays in daylight. The Hoop ran ashore in the night. The tenth year wrote both names onto the same coast ledger, and wrote the Company’s loss as one man. [3]

Mouille Point was not Agulhas and was not the Umzimvubu. It was the Castle’s own western corner, close enough that a night wreck sat inside the roads the look-outs already watched. The Hoop was a Company ship, not a French two-decker and not a Danish outward-bound. Van Gennep still sat the naval establishment. Brand still sat the winter port. The tenth year did not send a hundred Europeans and three hundred Khoikhoi after this hull. It wrote her as a wreck close to Mouille Point, and it wrote one seaman as lost. The same month it wrote Bode as dead. July therefore sat a pulpit empty in Cape Town and a Company wreck on the western point, in the second year of western drought, with Pondicherry already gone and with Aling already at Drakenstein. [3]

The ninth year had put the Nicobar’s eleven on the Agulhas coast in July. The tenth year put the Hoop on Mouille Point in July, and put Bode in the ground. Two Julys, two wrecks, one a Dane east of Agulhas and one a Company hull at the Castle’s own point. The first chair still sat. The acting fiscal still sat. Meuron still sat. The Seventeen’s paper still sat in the burghers’ dissatisfaction. July did not put a new governor on the quay. It put a wreck and a death on the tenth year’s middle, and it left the memorials still unwritten. [3]

Drought, the Roadstead, and Little Paris — 1784

The years 1783 and 1784 were marked by severe drought in the western parts of the colony, and the grain crops were very poor; but abundance of rain fell in the east, and meat and butter were plentiful and cheap. Calendar 1784 was therefore the second western drought year. Wheat did not sit the western barns as it had sat them before the war. Cattle and butter sat the eastern farms. Three or four hundred casks of beef and pork salted at the Cape formed part of the shipments forwarded to the Company’s establishments in India, for the use of the garrisons there. It was not possible to send much produce to Europe during these years, though a considerable quantity of provisions went toward India. The tenth year wrote that western poverty and that eastern cheapness onto the same ledger. [3]

During the war with England the Company’s trade had been almost annihilated. Its fleets were laid up in harbours or were swept from the seas. It was compelled to employ ships under neutral flags to convey cargoes to and from India, and to prevent the utter ruin of its dependencies was obliged to allow any one who chose to buy and sell freely in its foreign possessions. There was hardly a nation in Europe that did not furnish adventurers to take advantage of this condition of things. The list of ships that put into the two open ports of South Africa during the four years 1781–1784 showed this very clearly. Out of an average yearly number of 135 ships, only 29 were Dutch, and many of those were owned by individuals or were men-of-war belonging to the national government. In September 1783 peace was concluded, but the old order of things could not at once be restored. The tenth year still sat that average: more foreign flags than Company flags, and a roadstead that had learned to live on Danes, French, Swedes, Austrians, and whoever else came under a neutral or an allied ensign. [3]

In Table Bay in 1784 some thirty-eight Dutch ships sat the count, with about ten more in Simon’s Bay — a recovery of the Dutch column after the thin war years, still far from a Company monopoly. French hulls still sat heavily on both bays. Danish hulls still sat. Swedish, Austrian, Portuguese, Prussian, Russian, Spanish, and even an American flag sat the four-year table. Hendrik Justinus de Wet still sat the Danish agency in Cape Town. A French commissariat officer, M. Percheron, still purchased large quantities of provisions at high prices. Other nationalities also had agents here for the same purpose, though their requirements were not nearly so great. Next to the French in commercial dealings in South Africa at this time were the Danes. Many new trading houses had been established by burghers. In Cape Town there was a display of prosperity which astonished strangers. European and Indian wares in the greatest variety and of the most costly description were introduced in large quantities by Danish ships; and though the prices asked were exorbitant, they commanded a ready sale. [3]

The defective means of communication with the interior attracted greater attention than at any previous period, and the council of policy was desired to adopt measures for making good roads, that the inhabitants might more easily exchange the productions of the country and obtain foreign wares. The subject of a free coasting trade came also into prominence, and a memorial upon it was addressed to the government. Western grain was poor. Eastern meat was cheap. Costly foreign wares sat the Cape Town shops. The roads between those facts were still the old wagon tracks. The tenth year asked for better ones, and asked for a coasting trade, in the same months that Pondicherry left and that Bode died and that the Hoop sat Mouille Point. [3]

But the burghers of South Africa, though keenly alive to the advantages of material prosperity, have at every period of their history shown a firmer attachment to what they hold to be their political rights and liberties. There have indeed been times when considerable parties of men have wavered between money and freedom from misrule, but the women have never hesitated in rejecting prosperity at the price of oppression or disdainful treatment. And perhaps nowhere else in the world have women the influence that they have on South African farms. On this occasion neither men nor women were disposed to let the question rest. The government resorted to various petty persecutions, but the party opposed to it increased in strength. Little Paris still sat the Parade after Pondicherry’s embarkation. Cartoon money still sat the distant districts. The slaves were still almost naked, because a weaver in Stellenbosch had not been allowed to spin. The uneducated farmers of the interior were still taking forged notes. The tenth year sat prosperity in the shops and drought in the west, and it sat a political question that December would write onto two new papers. [3] [9]

Two Memorials — December 1784

When the completely unsatisfactory reply of December 1783 was received by the colonists, they were not a little angry. “We still have too much noble blood to bend under the yoke of slavery, before using all honest and decent means for our rescue,” they said, and drew up two new memorials. In these they firmly expressed their discontent about the scant attention paid to their previous complaints, and added many more. The party resolved now to appeal to the States General of the Netherlands. That same optimistic anticipation moved them initially not to send a new memorial to the Netherlands before having made the acquaintance of the military officer the directors were already selecting as governor. That they despatched it all the same — in December 1784 — was due to the behaviour of newly appointed Fiscal Serrurier, a man the petitioners wrote of as of no integrity and no experience, who might be called to govern them if a successor died on the voyage. [3] [9]

In November 1784 Jan Jacob Serrurier received from the prince of Orange the permanent appointment as fiscal. He had sat the office as the council’s acting from April 1783. November took the acting off the chair and put the Prince’s name on it. December therefore wrote two memorials under a fiscal who was no longer a temporary instruction of the council, but a permanent officer named from the Hague. Boers was already off the chair, with bail if he sailed for Europe before the charges were decided. The burghers did not take Serrurier as a deliverance from Boers. They took him as a reason not to wait. [3] [9]

With this object, in December 1784 two memorials, signed by M. Bergh, C. Maasdorp, G. H. Meyer, J. P. Warnecke, J. Myburgh, J. D. de Villiers, J. B. Groeneveld, P. Myburgh, H. Louw, and J. Roos, who had been chosen as representatives by the Cape burghers, were forwarded to the delegates who were still in Holland. In these memorials complaints were made of iniquitous and imperious government, of maladministration of justice, and of the scanty attention paid by the directors of the East India Company to the representations of the colonists. Van Reenen, Artois, and Heyns still sat in Amsterdam, still lobbying East-India House with the hope of better things to come from it. December put the two new papers on a ship toward those three names. [3] [9]

In the mean time the directors had come to the conclusion that changes were necessary in the government of the Cape, though they could not bring themselves so far as to grant to the colonists liberty of foreign commerce. They had narrowly escaped losing the country altogether, and they were now aware that the burghers were not in a position to defend it from foreign attacks. The first chair, who had been surprised at the alacrity shown by the farmers to aid the garrison in time of danger, had tried to get a company of burghers stationed in the town, to be relieved monthly by others, but the duty to be permanent. In this he had not succeeded. Early in 1783 the preliminaries of a treaty of peace had been arranged with Great Britain; but it was admitted on all sides that a garrison of at least two thousand men was required to secure the Cape against surprise in the event of another war, and that additional fortifications must be built. The directors therefore resolved to send out as governor a military officer of rank and experience, to station here a large body of troops as a depot for India, and to employ these troops in the construction of necessary works. In concurrence with the States General, they selected as governor Lieutenant-Colonel Cornelis Jacob van de Graaff, an engineer officer, who was then controller general of the fortifications in Holland, and who enjoyed the confidence of the stadtholder. The Lords Seventeen — by now in close co-operation with Stadholder Prince William V of Orange — had appointed a soldier as governor of the Cape settlement. December’s memorials left the Cape toward the three delegates while that soldier-governor had already been named. [3] [9]

The tenth year therefore closed the burgher paper not on the Seventeen’s December 1783 minute, but on two new memorials aimed past East-India House at the States General. The 1779 four had become three. The 1784 ten signed at the Cape. The charges were the old charges written harder: iniquitous and imperious government, maladministration of justice, scanty attention. The high court of six and six, the garden not for sale, the compounding limit of £40, and the banishment clause softened into discretion had not taken the question off the table. Little Paris had not taken it off. Western drought had not taken it off. Pondicherry’s leave had not taken it off. Serrurier’s November patent had put it on a ship. The first chair still sat when those papers left. The soldier named to succeed him had not yet sat the first chair. [3] [9]

Tenth Year Closes: Meuron, a Permanent Fiscal, and Two Memorials on the Water — 1784

Serrurier of Hanau and Fleck still sat the Reformed Cape, Bode dead from July. Kolver still sat Melk’s nave. Philip Kuys still sat Stellenbosch. Johannes Abraham Kuys still sat Waveren. Zwartland still sat a consulent, Goldbach dead from March 1783. Drakenstein now sat Aling from April, after three empty years. The tenth year put a new clergyman on that country pulpit, and put the Cape church again down to two. Jan Jacob Serrurier sat the fiscal’s office as a permanent officer from November, with Boers off the chair from April 1783 and with bail on any European sailing before the charges were decided. Hacker still sat the second. Van Ryneveld still sat Stellenbosch. Onkruydt still sat Swellendam. Faure still sat the secretaryship. Brand still sat the winter port. Van Gennep still sat the naval establishment. Plettenberg still sat the first, with a request to be relieved already granted in Amsterdam with honour, and with a soldier already named and not yet in the chair. [3] [8] [9]

Gordon still sat the garrison. De Lille still sat next after him. Gilquin still sat the works. Pondicherry no longer sat the hospital wing. Meuron still sat the Swiss chairs Luxembourg had left in February 1783. Van Jaarsveld still sat the eastern command, with the Fish still written as boundary and with the third drostdy still unbuilt. San still disturbed the northern farms. Percheron still bought provisions at high prices. Hendrik Justinus de Wet still sat the Danish agency. Little Paris still sat the Parade and Dorpstraat after the French infantry had gone, while cartoon money sat the distant districts, and while western grain sat a second poor harvest. [3] [9]

Van Reenen, Artois, and Heyns still sat in Amsterdam, with Roos dead, with a second memorial already answered by the Seventeen’s paper of the 3rd of December 1783, and with two new memorials now on the water toward them, signed by Bergh, Maasdorp, Meyer, Warnecke, the Myburghs, De Villiers, Groeneveld, Louw, and Roos. The committee of Amsterdam and Zeeland had written. The Seventeen had adopted the writing. The Cape had not taken it as enough. Boers’s February language had already taken him off the chair. Serrurier’s November patent had put a permanent fiscal in his place. The slaves were still almost naked, because a weaver in Stellenbosch had not been allowed to spin. The uneducated farmers of the interior were still taking forged notes. Western grain had been very poor for a second year. Eastern meat and butter had been plentiful and cheap. Three or four hundred casks of salted beef and pork had gone toward India. Of an average 135 ships, only 29 had been Dutch. [3] [9]

Peace had been concluded in September 1783, but the old order of things could not at once be restored. English hulls no longer took the Cape as a wartime prize sitting just over the horizon, yet the two thousand men the directors now named as a standing garrison did not yet sit, and the additional fortifications did not yet sit. The Sévère had missed stays on the 27th of January and sat the Blueberg beach as a total wreck, her crew in boats. Pondicherry had embarked for Mauritius in April. Aling had taken Drakenstein in April. Bode had died in July; Cape Town was again down to two clergymen. The Hoop had run ashore in the night close to Mouille Point on the 7th of July, with one man lost. Serrurier had received the Prince’s permanent appointment in November. Two memorials had left in December. Notes, not specie, still met the Castle’s bills. The tenth full installed year ended on those facts, without a third drostdy, without a repaid November loan, without a weaver’s blanket on a slave’s back, without seven burgher seats in the council of policy, with a French 64 on Blueberg sand, with a Company wreck at Mouille Point, with a soldier already named to the first chair, and with two burgher papers on the water that did not stop at East-India House. [3] [8] [9]