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“A Few Reminiscences of My Life”
By the late Mrs. Latham, 1879.[1]




Francis James Bassingthwaighte with his wife Rebecca (neé Dixon), their eldest son, James Benjamin, and their daughter, Ledevia Maria. 1861.
 Frank Bassingthwaighte en Becky (neé Dixon; jonger suster van die dagboekskrywer, Jane Latham) met kinders.



I recall to mind the day we left Cape Town for the far interior. As my father[2] and his partner[3] had decided on opening “Walwich Bay” and the neighbourhood to trade and so as to be quite in the knowledge of the country they decided on an overland journey there. No trifling undertaking at any time, but something immense in those early times.

We left one Saturday morning in October 1843, after about a month’s constant preparations, with three wagons heavily loaded with provisions, luggage, and some trading goods, so as to have the means of bartering for slaughter things on the road. We had also a fine horse “Dot and Gown” which had won the races as my father wanted to improve the breed of horses they were taking along with them also other animals to improve the breed of cattle. It was rather an unusual sight such a large party leaving at once for such a journey I suppose, for many people came to see and wonder. A few friends came with us as far as Salt River, one of whom was my father’s Cape Town partner Mr. J. Lawton[4] a Merchant, also Miss Aitchison and her mother, and some of Mrs. Morris’ relations.

All went well till a little after dusk when the wagons got into heavy sand and the poor oxen could hardly pull them, so we got out to walk. My father who had gone on ahead on horseback did not know we had got out, and Mr. Morris and the driver did not stop the wagons when they should have, to let us get up again, perhaps they forgot we were out walking in the heavy sand. How it was I do not know, I only know we were quite knocked up. Mrs. Morris carrying her baby, a boy of less than a year old and my mother with her baby (my brother Tom) just six or seven weeks old, and we children scarcely able to keep up with them. At last near the out-span place the wagons stopped for us. Such was our first experience on this long and arduous journey of eight months[5] through the wilderness.

It is only fair to say that my father did not wish us to take the overland journey but wait and come by sea to Walvich Bay, as he had arranged for a vessel to be sent with suplies to meet us on our arrival there, but my mother preferred going with him for many reasons saying she would share all the dangers with him, but little did she or any of us think what hardships we would encounter before we reached our destination or get out of the country again.

The next occurrence I remember was one of the disselbooms of the wagon breaking, and a farmer helping to mend it, and kindly helping us up a hill by spanning in some of his oxen. Another day, while outspanned, some of the blankets were put to air and a large snake came to one of them, but just then a Boer riding up tried to kill it, but it was too quick and got into its hole. The Boer, however, got hold of its tail and had hard work to pull it out and kill it. A few days after that, the missionary Mr. Jackson overtook us and as he had only one wagon he left us next day, being in a hurry to reach his station, and family. Next we came to the farm “Ontcomst” where the farmer and his wife were most kind. We stayed over there a week or ten days and as his harvest was ripe and they were short of men, my father took our men and helped to cut off the grain. Here my mother and Mrs. Morris took lessons in bread making and we got a large “calabash” for holding drink water which my father prized very much and which I had the misfortune to crack some time after and got a well deserved reprimand for my carelessness.

Another day, we were near another farm, where we got a lot of eggs and delicious fresh butter and bread which we enjoyed very much. One morning we outspanned at a periodical river, and under the shade of the trees mother wished to give the children a bath, the water looked so cool and clean although it was only dug out of the sand, but oh! I shall never forget how sticky and nasty our hair became, the water was so brack. My poor mother was in despair trying to get our hair right again.

Then to add to her perplexities, the first bread they had attempted to make that morning had risen to such an extent that it was going over the baking pot and became slightly sour. Experience taught them better soon.

We reached the Kameesberg[6] and as the mountain up to Lillyfontain[7] was rather out of the way and the road not the best we left the waggons near “Horngat” and Mr. Jackson kindly brought his waggon and insisted on taking our whole party to his house. As we would have some delay here getting the men rested and having rusks and bread made, and a variety of other arrangements, besides the Superintendent of Missions, Mr. Hodgeson, who had intentions of going over the Orange River, to send some missionaries to Damaraland had asked us to wait for him here, as he wanted to be of our party going over the Orange River as he was an intimate friend, but when the post came in we got letters with the sad news that he was very ill and could not come, so we left within a few days, as we were anxious to get on as we feared the river might get full, and which would make it most difficult to cross. Another thing much to be regretted was we had to leave the horse “Dot and Gown” here to be sent on after us, but which was never done, and Lillyfontein profitted by getting good horses.

They were constantly talking over their plans[8] about crossing the Orange River if it should prove to be full. Mr. Jackson used all his powers of persuasion to induce my father to give up the journey and stop and open Hondeklip Bay as there was no harbour near here and the Boers were just beginning to sow corn and besides all supplies had to be brought over land from Cape Town. Oh! what a pity! he did not take this good advice, what a world of suffering would have been spared us. After some days of trekking, we reached the neighbourhood of the Orange River and the road became very heavy sand and the weather very hot. The man, with the extra oxen was sent on ahead with strict orders not to stop but to travel through the night so as to get to the river in the morning. But Hottentot like, of course, he went to sleep and the cattle got scattered and it was a long time before they were got in hand again, being found in small lots as they found their way to the water. The man nearly died of thirst. He managed some days after to find his way to the River where a verft was and as he was speechless with thirst, the people had to give him water with a spoon and with care brought him round. What suffering the day we trekked down through the mountain gorge to the River with thirst! Having only a little water left in a small vatje mother had to give each of us a spoonful at a time and our favourite dog Dash poor thing! could not walk on the burning sand and bear the thirst so he jumped on to the waggon and we had not the heart to turn him out, so he got his spoonful of water too.
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