Ghosts of the Foster Gang are long gone

December 1, 2012

The cave is empty except for a large pink rubber ball. But as playful as the ball is, this is a place of death.

It was the cave in which the notorious Foster Gang ended their lives, together with William Foster's wife, Peggy, in 1914. I had climbed down into the cave entrance nine years ago, but couldn't bring myself to go into the cave, feeling somewhat spooked on my own.

Now I was back, with my 20-something son, and equipped with head torches, we were going to walk to the end of the 40-metre long cave, no matter what.

The cave, actually just a long tunnel, worms its way through rock beneath a private residence. The owner, who wishes to remain anonymous, says she's been into the cave three times in the 20 years she's lived in the house. “It's not my favourite pastime,” she says, adding that she's claustrophobic.

She bought the house knowing about the cave. Over the years she has had groups turning up at the door, mostly researchers, but lately two groups buzzed the gate, asking to come and find the gold that's in the tunnel. She refused them entry.

The Foster Gang consisted of three small-time thieves who became murderers. Foster, John Maxim and Carl Mezar robbed post offices and bottle stores, along the way shooting dead three policemen and a passerby. They had the town on its tittering toes for seven months in 1914. The police fought back with road blocks but they managed to dodge the cops, and their finale was performed to their rules.

Nine other people, including distinguished Boer War general Koos de la Rey, lost their lives, two by suicide, in the Foster Gang terror that engulfed Joburg.

As the net closed in on them, the gang holed themselves up in the cave in Kensington. Tracker dogs had led the police to the cave. They took up positions around the mouth. Crowds gathered, held back by fencing. The gang knew their time was up but they asked for one last request: Foster's wife, Peggy, was called for. She entered the cave with their 6-month old baby and Foster's family.  After a while the family appeared with the baby. Then shots were heard, and Peggy and the Foster Gang were no more.

The cave was originally just a shallow opening but in the 1890s prospectors tunnelled into the koppie, searching for gold, unsuccessfully. After the dramatic events the police dynamited the entrance, closing it with rocks; in the 1980s Wits students opened up the hole again.

Two large pepper trees guard the entrance to the cave, about two metres across, its edges masses of tumbling ground cover, with a rusty ladder bolted into one side. It's a squeeze past a large boulder into the dark, dank interior.

Foster was a promising student. Henry May and Iain Hamilton in The Foster Gang describe him: “William as a boy was lively and attractive, with strong features, bright grey eyes, and a ready smile. He held his head high and his shoulders straight, and when he walked he gave an extraordinary impression of electric energy, as if his body and limbs were tautened by some strange inner force.”

He excelled at soccer, and after matric he became an apprentice surveyor on a gold mine. He developed an interest in photography and created a dark room and workshop at his parents’ home, learning along the way how to cut keys. He decided he wanted to travel and take photos and headed off for German South West Africa, now Namibia.

It's not known what he got up to there but he was arrested by the police for the theft of donkeys. He served a month in prison . . . and was never the same again.

May and Hamilton write that he was “driven by some deeper force into an attitude of rebellion”.

His slide into crime happened quickly. He jumped trains, got into brawls, escaped from police custody on his way to jail, and served several short spells in jail. He now had a criminal record. Back home again he fell in love with Peggy Korenico and wanted to make money before they married. He spent 18 months in England in this quest and docked at Cape Town, feeling a failure.

He met Maxim there and learnt skills like shooting, trick-riding on a motorbike, the art of make-up and disguise. A plan was hatched to rob a jewellery store. Two suitcases of diamonds, watches, Kruger sovereigns and cash were grabbed. But the police caught them and they were sentenced to 12 years hard labour in Pretoria.

Before going to jail Foster married Peggy and they spent a one-hour honeymoon in a hotel.

Foster escaped from jail after nine months, in February 1914. Peggy meanwhile gave birth to a baby girl. He teamed up again with Maxim and newcomer Mezar. The gang were now unstoppable – they robbed post offices across the Rand, and hid out in the cave. They laid low in a house down south for a month after the police offered a £500 reward. They robbed several bottle stores, killing two policemen but making their escape. A resident recognised them, alerted the police, but the gang got away, killing another policeman.

Roadblocks were thrown up around the city, and a doctor speeding to do an operation in Germiston sped through one, and was shot dead. A call was sent out to all police stations to desist from firing on vehicles. Inspector Edward Leach couldn't get through to Langlaagte station - the phone was constantly busy. He jumped on a motorbike but he got there too late. General de la Rey raced through Langlaagte, ignoring police's call to stop. A policeman lifted his rifle, and seconds later De la Rey lay dead on the back seat. 

The net was closing in. Police dogs traced them to the cave. The gang knew this was the end, but didn't want to be taken alive. Foster asked for Peggy and his baby. She came with Foster's mother, father and two sisters. An hour later his family stumbled out of the cave, carrying the baby. Peggy had decided she couldn't live without Foster.

Four shots rang out - Foster was just 28. Joburgers could take up their lives once more.

I had this story thumping in my head as I squeezed past the boulder and stood up in the cave. It was around 1.5m wide and 1.5m high, stretching into the darkness. I wondered if their ghosts were lurking. We walked slowly, switching off our torches now and then - it was pitch dark with a bare hint of light from the entrance. It would have been brighter in the gang's day, as the entrance was wider.

We got to the end, saw some scratchings on the wall – a rectangle and what looked like MM. We sat a while. It couldn't have been comfortable in that narrow space, back in 1914. I almost expected to find some trace of them – a button maybe, a bit of handkerchief. But nothing, not even ghosts. Just a cramped coffin of a cave.

They are buried in unmarked graves in the Braamfontein Cemetery.

Source: Saturday Star