‘You’re going to strip Cape Town of its garrison?’
‘I am. While this is in train the settlement will be as near as damnit defenceless. I want you and your fiscal friend to give ear to every rumour, keep an eye on those who stand to gain by an uprising, and let me know the minute there’s a hint of unrest. We’ll deal with it together in some way.’
‘Sir, there’s no question of a spying against the citizens?’ Renzi asked.
‘Good heavens, no. I’ll not stand for it. Just do your best, get close to the locals and don’t delay in alerting me. Do always be aware – I’ve sent my dispatches to London after Blaauwberg, but it’ll be months before we get a reply, let alone supply and reinforcements. We’re on our own out here, Renzi. The only ones we may rely on are ourselves. We’re free to make decisions but then we take the consequences – as I’d want it, wouldn’t you?’
Baird’s bullish confidence was infectious. ‘Exactly so, sir,’ Renzi agreed.
‘Then here’s some more decisions. You’re going to say I’m leaving us defenceless. However, I’ve an idea that Janssens’s Hottentots, who did so nobly at Blaauwberg and, o’ course, are still prisoners under guard in barracks, these fellows would find it not impossible to contemplate continuing service, this time for the King. I’ll raise some sort of Cape Regiment with officers seconded from our forces.’
Renzi nodded in admiration of the move: the civil security of the town assured and so many fewer useless mouths to feed.
But there was a question. ‘Would you not be concerned for their loyalty?’
‘Ah – that’s where you come in, Renzi.’
‘Sir?’
‘Draw me up a form of oath. A pledge of allegiance to the Crown as all citizens must swear, good and simple so even the dunderheads may understand.’
‘Very well.’
‘Quick as you can, there’s a good fellow.’
Renzi left for his office, thoughts whirling. So this was what it was to create a brave colonial outpost that would develop in later years into a city and state of consequence. At school, children would be taught about the beginnings of their society and receive a smooth account of it but never know the reality – men of initiative and quick thinking taking the lead, chance events shaping the direction matters must take, individual acts that in sum made hopes possible . . . or not. In essence, here was the crucible forming history – and he, Mr Colonial Secretary Renzi, was centrally involved, forging the very instruments of state.
He felt a surge of excitement and pride as he lifted his pen and got to work. It did not take long: the ancient preamble was in use in so many other documents and the intent was clear. He looked at the draft and fleetingly wished his prose had more of the romantic and grave majesty that lay behind the great utterances of England but consoled himself that this was for an immediate purpose, not the handing down over generations.
It would do. He wrote out a fair copy and returned to find Baird at his desk, his head in his hands at the burdens he was facing. ‘Do you wish me to return later, Sir David?’ he asked gently.
Baird smiled tiredly. ‘If you do your duty, Renzi, then so must I. Let me see what you have.’ He scrutinised it carefully, then laid it down. ‘Yes, a very competent production. We shall have every burgher and Boer in the land take oath on it.’
‘And if they demur?’
‘They shall be regarded as prisoners-of-war and shipped out with lands and chattels forfeit. Fair enough?’
Renzi gave a half-smile. ‘Then, sir, I shall have these printed and start a register of those complying.’ A little ceremony in the castle courtyard, some form of witnessed signing by hand? He’d leave the details to Ryneveld. ‘Is that all, sir?’
‘Not quite. It does cross my mind that perhaps at this time we should extend the hand of friendship, offer reconciliation, fraternal regard and so forth. After all, if we’re all going to be Afrikaners together . . .’
‘An assembly – a reception of sorts?’
‘I was thinking more along the lines of a ball. Here at the Castle of Good Hope, at which we might see the good Dutch matrons with their daughters and our handsome young subalterns consort. Nothing like a bit of manoeuvring together to get the fraternal blood up.’
‘In company with the great and good of Cape Town?’
‘Naturally.’
Renzi chose his words carefully: ‘I do see the possibility that it may not achieve the object we desire.’
‘Go on.’
‘If the mood – which is to say the temper of the Dutch people – is such that they feel out of sympathy with our rule, what better way to show it than to make their excuses, leaving their governor and lord to throw an extravagant ball to which no one comes?’
‘I’ll take that risk,’ Baird said firmly.
‘The ball will need to be advertised widely, and well in advance of time, sir. All the greater the scandal if it fails.’
Baird sighed. ‘But we need to woo the people. You’re right – yet we must show willing. I’m going to try.’
‘Er, who will be the one . . . ?’
‘As there’s no Lady Baird, my trust must be in you, Renzi, old fellow.’
