At the Fireside--Volume 1 (12 page)

Of doctors and discoveries – Dr Atherstone

Of doctors and discoveries – Dr Atherstone

It is rare indeed that fate allows a person more than once to occupy centre stage in the theatre of fame and fortune. But this did happen to Dr William Guybon Atherstone, celebrated surgeon, botanist, geologist, musician, artist and statesman. The first event made him a household name in his own country and the second, twenty years later, made him world-famous.

He was two years old when he arrived with his father, Dr John Atherstone, in South Africa in 1820. Later in life, he took up residence in Grahamstown where he attended Stephenson's Grammar School, at the famous Yellow House. After a spell at Uitenhage, he returned to Grahamstown in 1831 where he was apprenticed to his father, in order to qualify for the medical profession.

A few years later, at the age of sixteen, he was appointed Staff Medical Officer to the Governor, Sir Benjamin D'Urban, during the Sixth Frontier War. By the age of eighteen he was a fully qualified medical practitioner!

One incident that left a deep impression upon the young man was his interview with the famous Voortrekker leader, Piet Retief. News reached Dr John Atherstone that his friend Retief was going to lead one of the Treks. Much perturbed, he and William rode over to Mooimeisiesfontein, to persuade Retief to abandon his plan and stay. However, Retief was adamant and, bidding his friends a sorrowful farewell, he chose his path of destiny – one that ended on a lonely hill at Umgungundlovu in February 1838. One cannot help but wonder what the course of South African history would have been, had the persuasion of Atherstone senior been successful.

The day, Wednesday, 16 June 1847, was a memorable one in the annals of South African surgery, for it was on this day that Dr William Guybon Atherstone performed the first operation in this country using anaesthetics. Before the advent of anaesthetics, an operation was a nightmarish horror of incredible shock and excruciating agony for the patient concerned, so it is fitting that both Dr Atherstone and his patient, one Frederick Carlisle, should be remembered.
The Grahamstown Journal
published an article about the operation ten days later.

Mr Carlisle, Deputy-Sheriff of the Albany district, had all but lost the use of his leg and gangrene was starting to set in. He said the pain was so unbearable that he would gladly have his leg amputated if the pain would stop. After several experiments using different kinds of apparatus, with and without valves, Dr Atherstone succeeded in producing the required degree of insensibility, by means of a simple hubble-bubble container from a hookah pipe.

The patient, convinced of the powerful effects of ether, consented to have the leg removed, but stipulated that the operation could not start until he gave the word. After ten to twelve inhalations of the ether, he reached down and pinched himself, then continued to inhale a short while longer, pinched himself again and said ‘I'm drunk enough now – you may begin!' The tourniquet was immediately tightened and at the same moment the first incision was made. The patient did not feel or show any signs of discomfort, still mechanically opening and closing his nostrils with his own hand. So perfect was the insensibility that the assistants let go of the patient altogether. For the rest of the operation, Carlisle lay motionless on the bed. Once the leg was removed and the nerves and blood-vessels taken care of the bottle was removed and the patient, still holding his nose, became talkative and even humorous as he gradually recovered from the stupefying effects.

He had inhaled ether for about four minutes. He then asked, ‘Why have you removed the bottle of vapour?'

Atherstone replied, ‘Because the operation is over, your leg has been off for some time now.'

‘Don't talk nonsense to me Doctor', said Carlisle, ‘I'm a reasonable man, just tell me why you have removed the bottle.'

‘You don't require it any longer, your leg is off!'

‘Impossible, I don't believe it, let me see for myself.' Upon seeing the stump, he said, ‘God be praised, this is the greatest discovery ever made. I have been totally unconscious of everything – the sound of the saw still rings in my ears, as if in a dream from which you awoke me, but I never felt any pain ever!'

So the first trauma-free operation was recorded in
The Grahamstown Journal
, and preserved for posterity. But as far as Dr William Atherstone was concerned, fate had a much more far-reaching event in store, one that would make him renowned in the world.

Some twenty years later Dr Atherstone, who in the meantime had become quite well known as a geologist, received a strange parcel in the post. He carelessly tore it open and read the covering letter.

Colesberg

March 12

1867

My dear Sir,

I enclose a stone which has been handed to me by one John O'Reilly, as having been picked up on a farm in the Hope Town district, and as he thinks it is of some value, I send the same to you to examine, after which you must please return it to me.

Yours very sincerely,

Mr Lorenzo Boyes

Acting Civil Commissioner

Colesberg.

Atherstone was greatly excited and rushed off to the local jeweller, Mr Galpin. Galpin tested the stone for hardness and agreed that it was a diamond. On the way home, the excited Atherstone saw Professor Peter MacOwen and showed him the stone. MacOwen suggested that in order to make absolutely certain, they should test the stone's specific gravity. Off they went to the house of the Catholic Bishop, the Right Reverend James Richards, and there in the Bishop's study, with a hair pulled from Atherstone's head and fastened with a small bit of wax on the stone, they completed the specific gravity test. The results were positive. The Bishop grabbed the diamond, strode over to the window pane and scratched his initials on the glass. This pane is still in the Roman Catholic Presbytery in Grahamstown, with the inscription ‘Initials of the Rt Rev James David Richards – cut with the first diamond discovered in South Africa, 1867'.

Sir Percy Douglas, the Lieutenant Governor of the Eastern Cape, had just returned to Grahamstown and a state dinner had been organized for that night. Atherstone thought this a fine opportunity to make his discovery known, and he whispered to a friend, Advocate Henry Blaine, that during the toasts he was going to stand up and make his announcement. BlaMe was horrified. Tor heaven's sake, Doctor, don't do it – remember the Sand River Gold.' He was referring to a previous statement Atherstone had made at a similar dinner, claiming that gold had been discovered in the Orange Free State. The ‘discovery' had proved to be fraudulent and Henry BlaMe, knowing the doctor's optimistic nature, wished to save him from further embarrassment, but to no avail. Amid a great hush, the doctor rose to his feet and made the announcement that was to have such far-reaching effects on the economy of our country, and continues to do so to this very day.

Dr Atherstone wrote to Boyes congratulating him and informing that the stone was a 21,25 carat diamond worth £500. The stone was sent to Cape Town, acquired by the Governor, Sir Philip Wodehouse and sent to the Crown jewellers Hurst & Boskell in London, who confirmed the analysis. It was then proudly sent on to the Paris Exhibition for display. Not much happened after that, as people were very sceptical. One said that the place in which it was discovered was salted with diamonds from Brazil. Another put forward the interesting theory that ostriches must have deposited the diamonds there. But the optimistic Atherstone would not be discouraged.

Fortunately, an even more bizarre event then took place. We have learnt how Honest John O'Reilly handed the first diamond to Mr Boyes of Colesberg. Boyes gave Van Niekerk, the farmer, on whose land he had picked it up, his half-share, £250, and this then got the old farmer thinking. If just one of these ‘worthless' stones was worth £500, he must try to find more of them.

He remembered that a Bushman whom he knew had a similar, but larger stone, which he carried in a dirty old skin bag around his neck. Van Niekerk set off to find the Bushman, but failed, as he had wandered off into the wilds. Van Niekerk left a message for the man to contact him when he returned.

One morning Van Niekerk awoke to find the Bushman patiently waiting for him on his veranda. He had the bag around his neck. To the Bushman's absolute amazement, the farmer gave him 500 sheep, 10 oxen and a horse for the stone. Van Niekerk then set out for Hopetown, where the stone was examined and declared to be an 83,5 carat white diamond. Van Niekerk sold it to Lilienfeld Brothers for £11 200 and returned home a rich man.

The stone was sent to England and was subsequently purchased by Lady Dudley for £25 500. This is how the famous ‘Star of South Africa' came into existence.

In this way the South African diamond rush began, with incalculable results for our country and, although many far bigger stones were subsequently found, such as the Cullinan Diamond weighing 3 025 carats, not one has ever had such far-reaching effects as that small 21,25 carat stone which so excited Dr William Atherstone on that day in 1867.

John Hepke and the silver mine

John Hepke and the silver mine

During the Anglo-Boer War of 1899-4902, a little-known skirmish took place in the Broederstroom area, at a place called Kalkheuvel, lying on the left hand side of the Broederstroom road, opposite the Alpha Training Centre in Gauteng.

During this brief engagement the British column was commanded by General French and the Boers of the Wolmaransstad Commando by Commandant Du Toit. A Boer marksman wounded a British Officer, John Hepke. As was often the case during that war when the wound was not life-threatening, the bullet remained inside. He was bandaged up and left to recover, as the facilities of the field hospitals were very rudimentary. John Hepke survived the war and went back to Britain. Some time later, he fell ill and after many tests he was diagnosed as having lead poisoning. They removed the bullet, which they then had assayed to confirm the correct diagnosis of the disease. They gave him the bullet as a memento along with the assay report. He was amazed to learn in the report that the bullet had an extremely high silver content. Those of you who have a knowledge of geology and mining will know that lead and silver usually occur together in deposits.

This information perplexed Hepke and after a while he decided to return to South Africa, where he retraced his steps in the foothills of the Magaliesburg to Kalkheuvel, where he had been wounded. An old Afrikaner fanner, who owned the property, accompanied him. When they reached the battle site, Hepke was amazed not to find any spent cartridges lying around. He said to the Boer, ‘I cannot believe this, as I was shot here and know how many shots were fired.' The old farmer replied, ‘Don't be silly, we Boers were very poor and after you people had retired to Rietfontein West, we sent in the children to pick up the spent cartridges, which we would then reload.'

‘Oh', said Hepke, ‘and where did you obtain the lead?'

‘From a small lead mine on an adjacent farm just south of here', replied the fanner. Hepke asked the farmer to take him to this little mine, which had been abandoned shortly after the war. John Hepke bought the farm on which this mine was situated, immigrated to South Africa and began working the little mine, which he named the Lonely Hand Silver Mine. He never made a fortune out of the mine, but worked it profitably for many years. His son, John Hepke junior, split up the farm some time later and sold off portions. In his sixties, he retired to Cape St Francis in the Eastern Cape. If you are in the area of Broederstroom, as you drive towards Hennops River into the foothills of the Magaliesburg, you will see, on your left hand side, the Silver Hills Gemstone. It stands as a memorial to a big man, with a story that should not be forgotten.

The Malmani goldfields

The Malmani goldfields

The huge rush in the late 1880s to the Witwatersrand, with all its clamour and hype, tended to divert attention from other gold discoveries of that period. They too each possess stories well worth relating.

Apolay Pillatt started one of these small rushes when, in August 1886, he claimed to have discovered gold on the farm Stinkhoutboom, situated close to the Malmani River in the Zeerust district of what is now the North West Province. The diggers on their way to the Witwatersrand promptly turned west to investigate the new finds. Prospectors such as Thomas Sephton and Michael Kelly found more traces of gold on adjoining fauns and a gold rush began. It was quite violent in its suddenness. In a period of a few months the tiny settlement of Malmani boasted a string of mills to crush ore, and four hotels featuring, in addition to the usual diversions, sophisticated entertainments such as dancing girls! On 7 February 1887 the faun Zeekoevlei, belonging to Mr G Pretorius, was thrown open as a public goldfield to be taken up by prospectors and diggers – and the boom was on.

President Paul Kruger hated these places, with their drunkenness, bar brawls and men paying for the favours of the hotel dancing girls in gold dust. It went against the grain of the sternly Calvinistic beliefs of the rural Afrikaner. Nevertheless, he paid it a visit on his annual tour of the ZAR and was presented with the usual petition of grievances and desires.

By the middle of 1888, values were dropping as the gold-bearing seams were pinched out and started disappearing altogether. By October 1888 most hopes were wrecked and half the camp had packed up and left for the better prospects of the Witwatersrand. The hotels, the glamour and the girls were no more. Only the die-hard diggers and people resisting change were still wandering around the hushed place, like earth-bound ghosts. Malmani drew one last breath in 1895, when a supposed extension of the Witwatersrand reef was discovered, but this too pinched out and came to nothing, and another boom town died.

In 1895 it was surveyed, renamed Otto shoop after the District Magistrate, Cornelius Otto, and turned into a little agricultural hamlet. Little has changed to this day. Its only claim to fame was that it became the meeting place for the troops from Pretoria and Mafikeng who, once they had joined up, marched on towards Johannesburg during what came to be called the Jameson Raid.

In 1899 a prominent film in Johannesburg auctioned off a rare bowl made from the gold of the Malmani field. To my knowledge it went to a local collector. It must be one of the only pieces of memorabilia in existence from that hectic place, and very valuable indeed.