Harry’s First Big Deal

(via Indiaqua, 49/1988; Extracted from ‘M’ The Civilized Man, 1985)

Harry Oppenheimer’s first deal involved one of the last of the big time eccentric prospectors. John Williamson, a one time Anglo employee who had wandered off in search of his dream mine and, in 1940, found the Mwadui mine, one of the richest diamond pipes ever discovered, in Tanganyika.

An independent sort, he treated his mine like a sovereign state, even flying his own flag with his initials on it overhead. And shortly after he went into production, he pulled his diamonds out of the syndicate’s distribution system, saying he could make more selling them himself.

“Well, he got his desire and found his mine, and he became very rich,” Oppenheimer recalls, “but in the course of this he simply destroyed his health and took to drink in a major way. He was not the sort of person who drinks too much at dinner, then goes to bed and suddenly drinks a case of whiskey. But he was an attractive fellow, inspired loyalty in his people. He didn’t form a company sell his shares; he owned the whole thing, and lived on the mine.”

There he built his own little paradise; a home filled with fine antiques and first editions—and mongrel dogs everywhere. Williamson took up knitting, and twice in a row won the Aylesbury Women’s Institute Silver Distaff Award for needlework. He liked to tell visitors that diamonds were so abundant at Mwadui they could find them lying on the ground. Inevitably, someone would find a huge pink diamond, only to learn it was a plastic replica of the 54 carat stone Williamson had given Princess Elizabeth as a wedding present. He also like to carry scissors in his pocket to snip off people’s ties.

Shortly after the war, Harry was assigned by his father to bring Mwadui, and this character, back into the fold. “I did establish quite a relationship with him, and I think that was because I happened to like him, “he says. “But he was the sort of person who, if you talked to him about business matters, you had to proceed very slowly. If you said anything quickly……it was as though you had a rather nice wild animal but if you move quickly, it sort of take frights.”

At one negotiating meeting in Williamson’s office, Oppenheimer determined not to say anything until Williamson known for his long, unexplainable silences, spoke first. Oppenheimer gave up after 20 minutes. Eventually, however, he did succeed in getting a new contract for Williamson’s production.

“Finally he died,” says Oppenheimer, “and he left the mine to his family, left control of it to his brother Percy, who was a garage proprietor in Edmonton (Ontario). And this fellow, there was no vice in him at all, but he was entirely unsuited to such a thing; he found tropical Tanzania much less agreeable than living among the snows of Edmonton. Finally I went up there and we bought the mine. “Bought it, that is, with a sales contract that he drew up himself on the spot, without the aid of company lawyers.