THE STAATS MUSEUM, PRETORIA.

Otago Witness, Issue 2413, 31 May 1900, Page 60

THE STAATS MUSEUM, PRETORIA.

(Rev. John C. Hvrius, of Johannesburg,

in the Strand Magazine.)

"Now thai our burghers are bwy fighting for 'land and folk,' I venture to appeal to tlieni to remember our Stale Museum. Let them all be on the look-out for any relics likely to b? of interest— such as flags, lances, helmets, swords, etc. Such articles should find a place in our new museum, so that we may show posterity at what a price and against what wicked and cruel devices of our enemies we won our freedom."' So wrote Dr Gunning, the superintendent of the Pretoria State Museum, in the notorious Standard and Diggers' Sews, just a month after the Boeis commenced the present war. Most Englishmen will regard the sublime confidence and assurance of the doctor with amusement. And yet few realise what a powerful factor "that museum, stuffed away in an obscure corner in Pretoria, Las been in kesping alive the racial feudy stimulating the bitter antipathies, andinflating the fancied prowess of the hundreds of back-veldt Boers -nho hwe, during their infrequent visits to Pretoria, gazed open-mouth at its treasures. It is to them all that the Tower of London and Holyrood Palace and Westminster Abbey are to I.Britons. All that, with a "Madame Tu&saud's " thrown in ! It is the only history they can read, the sLrine of all their heroic traditions and glowing achievements, the record of their long fugitive years, of their " treks " and battles. — and victories. 'There the hairy, grimy old veteran tells his boys of Bronkhorst Spruit and Majuba, of Dingaan and Malaboch, of the Voortrekkers. — -and of Jameson. Here have been fed and fanned the slumbering fires of hate, the lingering love of liberty, and the perverted sense of patriotism : the factors and forces which have made the brave but ignorant people an all too easy prey to the scheming cliques and mercenary intrigues of opposing factions, tlia wild conflict of which has flung them with the force of Fate to their destiny and their undoing. It never struck me in this light until one day ]f watched some of the burghers who had " outspanned " their waggons on the market square outside stroll around the cases, and gaze vacantly at the avell-ar-ranged treasures of the museum. I was amazed to find that almost everything Avas associated in their minds with the English — the "' verdomde rooinek." As you pass through ihe turnstile to enter, the word '' Uit " indicates the way of exit. But you observe how cleverly the authorities have turned the letters " Out, 1 ' Avliich were cast in the iron, into the Dutch word. The English word must not be seen. Immediately inside the door is a fine model of one of the Castle boats, presented to Pre- [ sident-ltruger by Sir Donald Currie. " Ah, I see !" said one old Boer to the others, | " there is the ship that brings the rooii neks over the sea." A significant grunt ! followed ; until, catching sight of an aas vogel (vulture) suspended from the iron ; roof, another said, with exultant' gutturals, j " Yah, and there is the bird that eats the rooi biatjes (red-coats) when we shoot them on the ve'.dt." "Yes," saicl a third, with rising triumph, '• and here is Jameson's revolver." There is, of course, the usual assortment of horrors and curio's, the bottled snakes, dried birds, mu«ty skulk, and the inevitable mummy — in this case a very dilapidated one. But these to the average Boer are meaningless. His eye sees only that which it brings with it. and to him history is of yesierdiy, and tomorrow. All the sturdy patriotism of his race, all the wild freedom of the veldt, all the blood feud of the years, and the rankling memories of past grievances gleam in his ej-e,s and ring in his tremulous voice as he gazes at these dumb but eloquent relics of his age-long struggle. . . . Almost the first object to catch the eye, on entering, was a large revolver labelled "Jameson's Revolver/ I say was, for on the occasion of -my last visit it was missing. While photographing it, I remarked to the Hollander attendant (to whose kindness and courtesy I am very much indebted), "It seems not to have been used very much, does it?" "Well," he replied,, in a burst of confidence, and with a 'laugh, " it wasn't Jameson's at all! We got it from a safe in Johannesburg at the time of the raid ; but" — with an apologetic smile — "we must have something to show the burghers when they come, you see." ... Perhaps the most interesting reticles m the place are the relics of the old Voortrekkera — the Pilgrim Fathers of the Boers, the sturdy and untamed spirits who, from the days of Van Rubeck to the present time, have sought a home in the vast wilderness, setting out in their waggons upon the great wastes, as the early mariners pushed out upon the unknown seas; and a? their "■real hero, Abraham, went out " not knowing whither he went." ._ . . But the most curious, and moti prized, of all the Voor-trekker relics is the old almanac shown here. Out on the wide veldt, trekking for month after month, far from the haunts of men, these daring old Boer-Bedouins must Lave' often losb count of time but for this simple and primitive contrivance. It is a small black board, about 2ft square. Along the top run the initial letters of the week days ; down the left are rows of holes numbered up lo 31 ; and down the centre a similar "row marking the months of the ye?r. Thiee pegs serve to indicate at a glance the day of week and month.

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