Holidays at Northam

After the First World War,  a number of Englishmen came out to settle in a geographical area lying approximately 50 miles to the north of Rustenburg.  The area comprises a number of farms, but but was generally known as "NORTHAM".

Apart from these post-First World War settlers, there were also a number of English-speaking families in the district long before that time. As a matter of fact, some of the families, notably the Taylors and the Toppers, settled there in the 1860s.

The area was, and is to this day, essentially suited for cattle ranching.  These 1930 settlers concentrated on agriculture and particularly cotton farming. This type of farming was not a success and with a few exceptions, many of those immigrants left their farms and moved to the towns and cities of the Transvaal and a good proportion of them eventually did well in South Africa.

They left their stamp and added a lot to the cultural, social and sporting activities of the area. At one stage they had a tennis team, a cricket team and even a rugby team. Obviously the sporting teams were not composed solely of the Settlers, but they were the driving force and formed the nucleus of the sporting activities.

Grandfather MacDonald settled in the area around about this time, as a trader with a shop at a farm called "DE PUT", which belonged to the Fothergill family and where the original Post Office was sited. With the coming of the railway to the area, my grandfather changed his trading situation to "NORTHAM PROPER", where today there is a small township and station and Government buildings.

Brother Billy and I loved to spend holidays at Northam. Whilst at our grandparents Taylors' farm at Oorsaak, we did a lot of fishing, at Northam we concentrated on shooting.

Granny and Grandpa Mac, as they were affectionately known to their grandchildren, loved to have us with them and we, in turn, enjoyed every minute of those holidays walking and chasing game in the veld, in and around Northam.

I was about ten and my brother Billy about twelve. We used to go off into the veld, armed with a 410 shotgun, and would occasionally bring back a guinea fowl or a hare.  There were lots of impala in the area and on occasions we would accompany our uncles on a shooting trip into the bush.

I remember going off with my Uncle Rowland on a shoot one afternoon. He took with him his .303 rifle. We had not found anything to shoot and stopped for a rest and Uncle Rowly wanted to relieve himself.  Whilst he was thus engaged, there came to our ears from the windward side sounds of an animal grazing. Uncle Rowly peered through the bushes as best he could and saw a big impala bull grazing no less than 50 yards away. In a semi-compromised situation, he took aim and fired, but the impala just cantered away unconcernedly.

With all the excitement, Uncle Rowly had forgotten to allow for an adjustment of the rifle's sights and the bullet passed over the head of the buck. For many years after this, he was teased about this particular incident.

I remember Billy and I walking in the veld, he having with him his 410 shotgun. A duiker got up, stood not less than 50 yards away from us, and Billy took aim and fired. Once again the quarry ran away quite unconcernedly, not even at any great pace.

Billy was very excitable, and had a very good imagination. When we got home, he repeated the story, adding that he was sure he had wounded the buck because it had moved away so slowly. My dad came out to Northam and of course Billy related the story to him. I remember my dad saying: "But, Billy, the buck ran way so slowly because you never even frightened it." Needless to say, after that Billy was completely deflated and we heard no more of the buck story.

On occasion the  whole  family would spend Xmas with Granny and Grandpa Mac at Northam - happy days indeed.

  

The nights in the Bushveld can be quite cold, but Billy and I would sit around the  "hardekool" (hardwood) fire in the lounge with Granny and Grandpa; Granny usually busy with her crochet work and Grandpa playing patience.

Approximately 15 miles from Northam, further into the Bushveld, there is a place which is now very well known but not so extremely well known in those days, namely THABAZIMBI. My father knew many people in the district and he happened to know a man, Robert Peacock, who had a farm on the slopes of the mountain.

It wasn't long before Billy and I had organised a hunting trip to Thabazimbi  to stay at the home of Mr Peacock.

In those days there was absolutely nothing and Billy and I roamed that mountain armed with a shotgun and a .22 rifle, chasing guinea fowl, pheasants, hasies (hares) and small game.

The Peacock family were kindly people, and we enjoyed our stay with them. Although the name "Robert Peacock" might suggest some English-speaking identity, in fact this was not so at all.  Neither Mr Peacock nor his wife nor any of his children could speak a word of English.  I only mention this in passing as a point of interest.

It was a secluded part of the district and there were few visitors or passers-by dropping in at the farm. However, one day we noticed that there was a special amount of activity and preparation going on in the Peacock home.  We soon discovered that that particular evening, there would be a dance at the house.

Now let me explain that a dance in a country home was known to the "superior" town dwellers as a "sheepskin". Needless to say, the dancing went on till the small hours of the morning, with the concertina doing its work non-stop. They were all very respectable people but they certainly did enjoy themselves.

A few years ago I came across a poem in "Opperman's Verseboek", written I think in 1905, under nom de plume Picadel. It is all about a hectic Sheepskin at Hartebeestfontein.

When I read the poem, it recalled my experience at Thabazimbi. It is really very amusing and I am attaching a copy of it. (See Appendix )

Talking of the name "Robert Peacock", it also reminds me of families in the Zeerust district and the way the local farmers have changed the pronunciation of the names.

For example, there is a family called "Southwood", but they are known in the district as "die Soutvoete" (the Salt feet). there is another family by the name of Douglas. They've become "die Dou-glase" (the Dew-glasses).