To the east one has a glorious view of the long range of
mountains stretching from Hanglip on the south to the
further Piquetberg and Clanwilliam ranges on the north.
On the slopes below there are many lovely farms with their
cornfields and vineyards and droves of cattle and sheep.
When my father first went to Groote Poste some of
the buildings had got out of repair, and it altogether
required much restoring, as it had fallen into the hands of
a very indolent farmer, who had not kept the buildings
in order. All this I do not remember, but I do remember
much that is lovely and bright in this beautiful South
African home, and will try and give just a little sketch of
how a year would be spent, and of each season’s work as
it comes and goes.
My father married Hildagonda Versfeld, a Dutch lady,
who, though so early in the century, had had an excellent
English education. My uncles also married into Cape
Dutch families — and we all lived, and I am glad to say
have always lived, in a most cordial and happy way with
both our English and Dutch relatives.
My mother loved flowers and gardening, and under-
3
MY OLD HOME
neath the dining-room and drawing-room windows were
beds of mignonette, stocks, brilliant masses of poppies and
cornflowers, and hedges of pale-blue plumbago. About
thirty yards below the front of the house was a small lake, or
rather, a large pond ; on the lower side of this w'as a strong
bank, cemented inside. On the bank was planted a hedge
of scarlet and pink geraniums ; these reflected their bright
masses of blossoms in the water. At the further end of
this pond nasturtiums and white arum lilies grew in
wild profusion, with endless rose hedges of the sweet old
pink “ Capse,” or “ French ” rose, as it was called (the
kind brought to South Africa by the French Huguenots),
and the “ Odorata,” as fragrant as attar of roses. To the
right of this was a fertile valley, which was the vegetable-
garden — where relays of crops were grown of peas, beans
and cauliflowers, and here too in the summer the lovely
melons grew, so cool and luscious, it still makes one’s
mouth water to think of them !
Then there was the large fruit orchard — with its varieties
of pears and apples — and below all this, stretching south,
a long poplar wood — with an undergrowth of arum lilies
and a sort of red gladiolus, and nasturtiums (washed down
in the watercourse from the garden above).
The boughs of the poplars were festooned with number-
less artistically woven nests of the little orange and black
finches called here “ Kaffirfinks ” — nests made soft and
warm by the young ears of rye and wheat picked off
in the adjoining fields ; there were also hundreds of turtle-
doves who made these woods their home, and filled the
air with their sweet music, cooing and warbling in the
early morning. But I am sorry to say, that though these
birds were lovely and added much to the life and beauty
4
MY OLD HOME
of the farm, they were very destructive to the grain, and
had to be kept in check ; so in the autumn evenings, or
early winter, the boys would go down to the wood
and bring in thirty brace of these sweet little doves—
to be , converted into pies !
Page 2
Presented as published in 1902. Historical recipes may not meet modern food-safety standards. Cook from the modern interpretation, not the original instructions.
AI-modernized reading of the original text
To the east one has a glorious view of the long range of mountains stretching from Hanglip on the south to the further Piquetberg and Clanwilliam ranges on the north. On the slopes below there are many lovely farms with their cornfields and vineyards and droves of cattle and sheep.
When my father first went to Groote Poste some of the buildings had got out of repair, and it altogether required much restoring, as it had fallen into the hands of a very indolent farmer, who had not kept the buildings in order. All this I do not remember, but I do remember much that is lovely and bright in this beautiful South African home, and will try and give just a little sketch of how a year would be spent, and of each season’s work as it comes and goes.
My father married Hildagonda Versfeld, a Dutch lady, who, though so early in the century, had had an excellent English education. My uncles also married into Cape Dutch families — and we all lived, and I am glad to say have always lived, in a most cordial and happy way with both our English and Dutch relatives.
My mother loved flowers and gardening, and under-
neath the dining-room and drawing-room windows were beds of mignonette, stocks, brilliant masses of poppies and cornflowers, and hedges of pale-blue plumbago. About thirty yards below the front of the house was a small lake, or rather, a large pond ; on the lower side of this wwas a strong bank, cemented inside. On the bank was planted a hedge of scarlet and pink geraniums; these reflected their bright masses of blossoms in the water. At the further end of this pond nasturtiums and white arum lilies grew in wild profusion, with endless rose hedges of the sweet old pink "Capse," or "French" rose, as it was called (the kind brought to South Africa by the French Huguenots), and the “ Odorata,” as fragrant as attar of roses. To the right of this was a fertile valley, which was the vegetablegarden — where relays of crops were grown of peas, beans and cauliflowers, and here too in the summer the lovely melons grew, so cool and luscious, it still makes one’s mouth water to think of them !
Then there was the large fruit orchard — with its varieties of pears and apples — and below all this, stretching south, a long poplar wood — with an undergrowth of arum lilies and a sort of red gladiolus, and nasturtiums (washed down in the watercourse from the garden above).
The boughs of the poplars were festooned with numberless artistically woven nests of the little orange and black finches called here “ Kaffirfinks ” — nests made soft and warm by the young ears of rye and wheat picked off in the adjoining fields ; there were also hundreds of turtledoves who made these woods their home, and filled the air with their sweet music, cooing and warbling in the early morning. But I am sorry to say, that though these birds were lovely and added much to the life and beauty
of the farm, they were very destructive to the grain, and had to be kept in check ; so in the autumn evenings, or early winter, the boys would go down to the wood and bring in thirty brace of these sweet little doves— to be , converted into pies !