natalia 36-37 (2007) complete

ii

THE NATAL SOCIETY FOUNDATION

TRUSTEES

M.J.C. Daly (Chairman)

P. Croeser

Dr. C.E. Merrett

S.N. Roberts

Ms. P.A. Stabbins

Mrs. S.S. Wallis

P.C.G. McKenzie (Secretary)

Miss J. Farrer ( Honorary Curator of the Special Collections)

EDITORIAL COMMITTEE OF NATALIAT.B. Frost (Editor)

Dr. W.H. Bizley

M.H. Comrie

J.M. Deane

Professor W.R. Guest

Professor A. Koopman

M.M. Marwick

Mrs. S.P.M. Spencer

M.H. Steele

Dr. S. Vietzen

Natalia - Copyright © Natal Society Foundation 2010

NataliaJournal of The Natal Society

No. 36–37 (December 2007)

Published by Natal Society Foundation Trust

P.O. Box 11093, Dorpspruit 3206, South Africa

SA ISSN 0085-3674

The cover illustrations refer not only to Adrian Koopman’s article on modern KwaZulu-Natal heraldry (page 42) but also to that on the centenary of the Scout movement (page 34). The armorial bearings of the Natal Society appear at the top, as they always do on Natalia covers. The four large ones below are the former crests of the City of Durban and the Province of Natal, and what has replaced them for the ‘metro’ municipality of eThekwini and the Province of KwaZulu-Natal. In the centre (purely for reasons of design and symmetry) is the Scout fleur-de-lis with added springbok head, which has for many years been the emblem of the South African Scout Association.

Page design by M.J. Marwick

Printed by Intrepid Printers (Pty) Ltd

Pietermaritzburg

EditorialWHEN the first slim volume of Natalia appeared in September 1971 under the editorship

of the late Professor Colin Webb, its numbering chimed neatly with the year. In the

1990s it fell behind and so in 1994 a joint Number 23–24 edition appeared to get it back

into line. In recent years, we have again been late in publication on several occasions

resulting in the absurdity of the journal appearing with a dateline of anything up to a

year before actual date of publication. So this edition is numbered 36-37 to restore

numerical tidiness.

Number 23–24 proved to be a jumbo edition of 144 pages. Number 36–37 will not

be as large, partly because, for various reasons, the publication of several of the features

originally envisaged will be postponed to a later edition.

The secretary of the editorial committee, Patrick McKenzie, has been assiduous in

promoting sales, not only of the current issue of the journal but also of back numbers

and has won for us a number of new readers. One of these took the trouble to write

expressing both appreciation and constructive criticisms. He pointed to the early ‘Boer’

period in Natal history as one which has not had much coverage. This is a shortfall made

up in this edition with the publication for the first time of ‘My First African Excursion’

by Marianne Faure (born Alewyn) recounting a journey in 1853 from Pietermaritzburg

to Ladysmith and back.

The original Dutch manuscript of 73 pages is in the Witwatersrand University (Wil-

liam Cullen) Library. The reference is Document 6 of 235, Ref: A36. M (A) Faure. Mijne eerste Afrikaansche excursie 1853, 8 May – 29 June. It was translated into English in

the 1950s by the author’s great-granddaughter Anna Maria Entrop-Le Poole and in

the 1980s came into the hands of Val Ward. We are grateful to her for her meticulous

editorial work in preparing the document for publication.

Our feature articles are by Professor Adrian Koopman on KwaZulu-Natal municipal

heraldry and by Professor Emeritus K.N. Greggor ‘Pietermaritzburg Gold – the Natal

Camp’ dealing with the Natal connection in the early mining history of the Witwatersrand.

The year also marked the centenary of the Boy Scout movement, an event celebrated

world-wide, and we are grateful to Graham Harrison who has had a very long associa-

tion with scouting in Pietermaritzburg, for an appropriate article.

There is the usual list of recent publications with reviews of some of the more

prominent books. We have not been able to secure all the reviews we would have liked

in time for publication and so some will have to be held over for a subsequent edition

of Natalia.

Sadly, Natalia has to record the deaths of prominent citizens. None was more

shocking than that of David Rattray, shot in an attempted robbery in his Fugitives’ Drift

Lodge home. Here, in the words of Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi, he had succeeded in

‘internationalising’ Zulu history and his death had international repercussions. We are

grateful to Dr Jeff Mathews for a fine obituary tribute. We record, too, the passing of a

largely unsung hero of the struggle against apartheid, Vishwaprea Suparsad, as well as

no fewer than three former professors of agriculture, Professors Behrmann, Truter and

De Villiers together with a giant of the conservation movement, Ian Garland.

Natalia continues to rely for its continued existence not only on generous funding

from the Natal Society Foundation but also the labours, without any sort of monetary

reward, of many — members of the editorial committee and contributors. Academics

who contribute to it cannot even claim a SAPSE bonus because, not being a mono-

disciplinary publication, it does not qualify for SAPSE recognition. We trust that our

readers will find our labours not in vain.

JACK FROST

1My first African excursion

Natalia 36–37 (2007), Val Ward pp. 1– 20

My first African excursion

On the 8th of May 1853, Sunday night, some members of our Dutch Reformed Church

of Pietermaritzburg, Natal had gathered to discuss the necessary details for Faure’s1

departure to Ladysmith in Klip River, which was due the next morning. It was already

some weeks ago that it had been announced that on Saturday May 14th the new church

building there would be consecrated by the reverends Dr H.E. Faure and Dr D. Van

Velden2 of Winburg in the Colony3. A short time ago he had arrived in Pietermaritzburg

to induct Dr Faure as Minister of the parish. This took place on May 8th 1853, and

the reading was Jeremiah 1, Verse 17. Faure preached in the evening from the text 2

Corinthians 5, Verse 20 ‘Now then, we are ambassadors of Christ, as though God did

beseech you by us we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God’.

He, Dr Van Velden, was now ready to go back to Winburg, via Ladysmith. Faure sug-

gested we should accompany him as far as Boschfontein, the place of Gerrit Naude4 and

then return to Pietermaritzburg, We, my sister-in-law Gertrude5 and I, agreed; provided

the weather was favourable.

The next morning [Monday 9th May] at 9 o’clock sharp the waggon, drawn by 14

oxen, pulled up in front of the house6. At 11 o’clock Gertrude, little Marianne7 and her

wet nurse, Nancy, with the Deacon Naude, set off in this typical African vehicle.

It is not easy to describe what an ox waggon looks like; it is a little bit wider, much

longer and definitely cleaner than our original transport waggons. Ours was in extremely

good condition. It had been newly painted, green and red, and it had a clean white

canopy. On the katel (the katel is a wooden frame, a little more than half the length of

the waggon, as wide as the inside, and fitted with leather straps) we had put a mattress,

three pillows and one blanket. Furthermore, the waggon contained little more than two

camp stools, an African mat and a small Persian carpet.

Faure and I stayed in the rectory and followed an hour later on horseback. We had

sent off our African, Tom, with the waggon, together with a Hottentot as driver and an

African as leader.

We rode very slowly along a terribly bad, rough road to reach the summit of a steep

hill8. When we overtook the waggon we found our sister Gertrude in tears over the

Natalia 36-37 (2007) Copyright © Natal Society Foundation 2010

2 My first African excursion

uncomfortable road, the waggon rolled from one hole to another, alternately bumped

into huge stones or banks of clay with which the waggon had to cope.

The road led us along a mass of hills, in Holland we would call them mountains. It was

almost 2 o’clock when we reached a plain9. There, we unyoked to give the oxen some

rest and time to graze. The horses had been unsaddled and Tom was sent off to gather

wood for a fire. A kettle was put on and while Faure was busy preparing coffee, the mats

were spread on the grass and pillows on top of them. Then we took our lunch from the

waggon-box. The carpet served as a table, seats etc. Our lunch consisted of bread and

butter and cold meat, brought from Pietermaritzburg. As we possessed only one plate,

one knife, one cup, sharing was introduced instantly, so we had to wait our turn.

After an hour’s pause we discussed continuing our journey but our lazy driver pro-

tested: ‘We should not be able to reach Mr Preller’s farm10 anyway before dark’, and

the road was unknown to him, ‘besides it would be too far’, he added. Fortunately we

had been well informed before our departure so we insisted we should leave immedi-

ately. We told him that, whatever happened, we had to be at Preller’s farm even late

The map is based on a map in the Natal Archives Repository, MS/108 map which is marked ?1854, but has on it places that did not exist in 1854. It is very likely taken from a later map, perhaps Cullingworth 1862. Only the middle section of the map has been used and altered here. For orientation Colenso and Escourt [sic] were retained while Winterton and Mooi River have been added. The route presumed to have been taken by the Faure party is dotted and places mentioned in the text are starred and numbered. 1: Preller’s place, Hebron. 2: Naude’s place, Boschfontein.

3: Scheepers’ place, Wagendrift. 4: De Waal’s place, Tugela Drift. 5: Klip River drift, Herman’s

Kraal. 6: Caspar’s place, ‘Klein Tugela’ — Rustenburg. 7: Mooi River drift, Gray’s Accommodation House. 8: Jan Naude’s place, Bosch Hoek. 9. Potgieter’s place, Wildeals Spruit.


at night, if necessary. We had never spent the night in the open and the possibility did

not appeal to us.

Not far from the picnic place we had been fortunate to meet two waggons from Preller

and Westhuysen; in one of them sat Dr Van Velden who was travelling with Mr Preller

and his family. We felt safe and without fear for although the road was very bad in the

vicinity of Preller’s house, and a steep hill loomed up, Mr Preller promised to see that

our waggon would be safely brought in. Faure and I continued on our way and rode

via a side road to the famous [Howick] waterfall of the Umghene. We could make it in

time and catch up the waggons later on. For three-quarters of an hour we rode fairly fast

over a good path. On both sides the grass was very high. We were still a good distance

from the river when a constant roar reached our ears. We came nearer and nearer and,

as is usually the case in meeting gigantic natural phenomena we were overwhelmed by

a feeling of respect when we heard the first sound.

We had reached the summit of a grassy hill, where a monument had been put up. That

is where we led our horses by hand. The Umghene drift (the place where waggons, horses

and pedestrians cross the river) is at a dangerous spot, only 40 or 50 steps distance from

the waterfall. When the water is high, many accidents have occurred here. There is a

bridge now, a little higher up, preferred by everyone, of course.

We saw some Africans wading the river, the water was low and the flat stones, lying at

the bottom, formed almost a dry path for them. It was interesting to watch how quickly

they jumped from one rock to the next without slipping once. To my great relief, our

ox waggon crossed the river by the bridge! It is more and more understood that wading

is dangerous and in several places bridges are being built.

The grave monument11 was a simple one, with the following text

Sacred to the memory of William, only son of William Lodge, who was drowned by falling off a horse, whilst crossing the Umghene drift on the 15th of January 1851, and whose body was found beneath the falls on the 22nd of January 1851, aged 13 years and one month. Requiescat in Pace!

It made a deep impression on us.

A bend in the road took us to the side of the hill12 from where we had a marvellous

view of the falls. It is impossible to describe the beauty of it. As far as the eye could

see there was not one dwelling, only a vast wilderness where we stood. It gave us the

impression of loneliness which was very special and sublime. We overlooked a sheet

of water flowing straight over steep rocks, more than 470 feet high, cascading into the

depths. The rocks on both sides were of a dark reddish brown; green ivy and red aloes

gave them a lively touch of colour. The enormous force with which the water came down

(in spite of the moderate width of the stream feeding the waterfall) appears in one great

mass of foam. It took us quite a while to absorb the lovely view, and even longer to tear

ourselves away from it. I had never imagined to be so moved by any natural event — it

was even beyond my highest expectations! We soon reached our waggon.

It had been an awful job to drive the oxen over the new bridge. These animals, used

to wading rivers, feared the wooden bridges on which their hooves made an unusual

noise. The two middle oxen were still unruly and had broken their yokes. These were

soon repaired and we started off for the next bridge, over the Sterkspruit13, which was

very wide at this point. Evening had fallen and as we did not fancy facing unnecessary

dangers, we decided to have the waggons undone and be brought to the other side while


we followed on foot. I was afraid of the cold evening air for my little Marianne and car-

ried her in my arms, wrapped in a warm shawl drawn over her little head. We reached

Mr Preller’s house14 without further delay, after crossing a small drift with many rocks.

I want to point out that the slippery rocks, with which the rivers are paved, made the

crossing unsafe and especially so when one goes on horseback.

We were welcomed with warm hospitality at Mr Preller’s house, where we stayed

until the next day. The house (a farm house is not the right name because the occupants

are more like landowners than farmers) was not very large, and Mr Preller had a big

family, like most Afrikaners, 13 children I believe. A tidy room, compared to the ones

we found elsewhere, was ours, it was even a ‘royal’ room. We had to share it with my

sister-in-law, the child and her nurse. The usual extent of farmer’s land is about 3000

acres. Many owners possess two, three or even four farms.

I wish I could give a general description of the so-called Afrikaner Boers, as we

learned to know them during our trip. Mr Preller is not the right person as an example

because he is much more civilised and cultured than most. Their appearances are some-

what unusual, mostly they are big, muscular types. In that respect they are not like the

Europeans. Their open faces are sympathetic. The families are numerous. I have seen

grandmothers who fostered their own children and their grandchildren at the same time.

There is something patriarchal in their way of living, their innumerable flocks of sheep,

oxen and cows remind us of the old shepherd kings. The father is the head of the family,

married sons and daughter live under the same roof. Matrimony and love, obedience and

subordination, mark the Afrikaner families. The appearance of the women I found not

very attractive; they seem to take pride in being heavy. Many Boers have a real faith;

house services, when the father reads the Bible and prays, are seldom missed, three times

a day. Simplicity, courage, generous hospitality and love of truth, are characteristic of

Boers. Common sense, even intelligence, does not fail them. They have constructed

complicated machinery for agriculture and other purposes and they make all kinds of

furniture. Knowledge and culture are not counted necessary; as long as they can read

and write and do some arithmetic that is all that matters to them, three months of going

to school is sufficient. They are excellent shots. We have been told that one man had

shot a hundred lions in his lifetime.

Most Boers still live in houses made of wood, plastered with clay, as when they first

came to the Colony. The furniture consists of one table, two or three chairs and waggon-

cases along the walls serving as seats, wardrobes or trunks. The front door is generally the

only door, the other door openings are closed by simple curtains, or not at all. Windows

have no glass and are closed by shutters during the night or in a storm. It is nice and

airy during summertime but cold in winter. Most farms have a front living-room and

two or three smaller rooms used as bedrooms. The whole family consisting sometimes

of more than 20 people, live together. This way of life is more or less obnoxious to us

Europeans. On the other hand, it is remarkable that lack of morals, in Europe an over-

ruling evil, is practically non-existent amongst these people, and although temptation

is there, cleanliness of hearts is found everywhere.

Often I have been impressed by the faith of married life. It is a natural state. Since

my arrival in Africa I have not heard of one unhappy marriage. Perhaps in God’s Hand

the naïve way of life, the lack of many sinful pleasures, so familiar to civilised people

in Europe, is the clue which guards these simple people from evil? Truly, our Lord has

blessed this nation.


They generally are very young when they marry. It is not unusual to find a 13 or 14-

year-old bride and a 16 or 17-year-old bridegroom. Seldom is the bride older. But it is

not my intention to talk about the remarkable history of the Afrikaners. What I have

heard about their departure from the Cape, their ‘trek’ to this area, the fights with the

Africans, their deadly fear in camps and their heroism, related to me by eye-witnesses,

seems incredible! We sometimes met people who were the only survivors of a whole

family. Parents, brothers and sisters had been murdered by Dingaan, the former Zulu

king. Even little children had been smashed against the wheels of the Boers’ waggons

by this monster. We have visited these places of slaughter during our travels, and it only

happened a few years ago! The aversion for the British, for whom they left their old

colonies, is still prevalent amongst the Boers. In Mr Preller’s house we noticed, at the

lower end of the table, a neatly dressed English person. We could not make out what

relationship he bore to the family and we were curious. The next day we were even

more curious when we saw him working on the farm, killing a pig, preparing fowls for

dinner, feeding the horses and making the fire. He turned out to be the schoolmaster

who taught the Preller’s children and neighbours’ children. They really are a practical

lot, though they don’t fancy science.

The day after our arrival at Preller’s, we travelled to Mr Naude’s place15. We departed

at half past three in the afternoon [Tuesday, 10th May], Gertrude, baby and her nurse,

Nancy, in the waggon, Faure and I following on horse-back. At 6 o’clock we reached

our destination. Our deacon, Naude, a kind man, six foot tall, welcomed us with love

and heartiness and an hour and a half later the waggon arrived at Boschfontein.

It was a lovely quiet evening. We had enjoyed our trip, the road had not given us

too many difficulties and the views were magnificent. We came through the woods,

crossed many clear waters and admired a beautiful sunset behind the hills which were

covered with all kinds of grass. Twice a year the grass is burnt in this country, in Janu-

ary and again in May or June. It is said that burning fertilises the soil. The fresh, green

grass contrasts with the dark grass, recently burnt; a clear stream16 meanders through

the foot of the hills forming small waterfalls here and there. Everything was beautiful

and harmonious.

Mr Naude is building a fairly large, comfortable stone house. His present house is

small and built of clay. It contains a small kitchen, apart from the living-room, and

two modest bedrooms. Some of the inhabitants were obliged to spend the night in the

ox waggon belonging to the owner of the house to make room for us. We had to share

it with our sister, the child and her nurse. It was so small, we could hardly move. But

what is the use of grumbling? We had been offered the best they had. One learns to be

content when there is no choice.

Boschfontein, Mr Naude’s place, is certainly one of the most beautiful in Natal. There

are the most fantastic views and woods ever to be seen. On the way back we had a

chance to observe the wonderful surroundings more closely. We saw many trees that

could not be encircled by six or seven men at a time! There is a well-equipped saw-

mill in these woods. We had to make our way though thick undergrowth, sometimes

through water, swamp etc., then again we came into the open or had to go down steep

hills strewn with large stones. Sometimes I had to lead my horse. Unfortunately, it was

a troublesome animal that I had borrowed from Mr Naude’s sister in order to give my

own pony to Gertrude, who was less used to riding. The horse I rode wanted to gallop

all the time and it frequently stumbled.


When we reached the top of the hill we had a marvellous view of the valley of the

Umghene and the Sterkspruit. We saw a few houses — they were resting points for our

eyes. Far away we saw the snow-capped mountains of the Drakensberg17. The effect

of colours of the woods against the white snow, where the sun cast its clear light, was

overwhelming, and we stood there, fascinated beyond words! The Umghene [Howick]

Falls were out of sight as they were behind rocky mountains.

At Boschfontein we decided to accompany Faure on his trip to the district of Klip

River. Up to now we had thoroughly enjoyed our trip and we had not met with many

hardships. Mrs Naude kindly provided us with bread and butter, coffee, tea, flour, sugar,

salt and meat and she even added two bottles of milk and a roast suckling pig. This

seems to be a speciality in these parts for wherever we had been given a treat we were

offered this dish and we always had unskimmed milk with it.

As far as our attire was concerned, we had to manage with the few clothes we had

taken for two days. It was a little inconvenient but, on the other hand, it was fun to travel

with the minimum. Next morning [Wednesday 11th May] at 6 o’clock, the waggon

started off, Faure and I following an hour later. We had sent home our African, Tom.

Mr Naude, as deacon, accompanied the waggon with the aid of an African leader. So it

was in safe hands, humanly speaking.

The weather was good, although a little cold, because of the early hour. The road was

reasonable and the sun shone clearly on the grassy hills. We saw many fowl, African

turkeys18, partridges and other wild birds. This gave a pleasant touch to the scenery.

Falcons, eagles and all sorts of birds of prey, are to be found as well. A poor little bird

sought in vain a safe shelter under our horses. At that very moment a large eagle, that

had been waiting to strike, descended and took its prey before our eyes.

At noon we reached the Mooi River Drift19. The Mooi River is certainly one of the

most beautiful in the colony and its drift is broad and calm at this time of the year. In

summer, crossings are sometimes impossible at high water. Because this drift was totally

unknown to us, we took the wrong route across, although we had asked some Africans

to show the way. They probably misunderstood and so we had to cope with a lot of

stones, causing our horses to stumble many times! However, we reached the other bank

where we unsaddled and allowed our horses to roam freely while we sought a place in

the shade under some overhanging rocks. The sun was high and burning.

One hour later we saw the ox waggon coming down the hill and crossing the river.

The waggon was open and Dr Van Velden came over to us. After having our meal we

started off at 2 o’clock. Dr Van Velden came with us in the waggon. I lent my horse to

my sister-in-law for the next hour and tried to make myself as comfortable as possible

in the waggon, but alas no chance on this bad road. I lay down on the mattress spread

on the katel, but my poor head had to endure so many shocks and bumps that I did not

know where to put myself. I wanted to read, but that was out of the question. Little

Marianne slept on Nancy’s lap. I tried to think, but the smoke of tobacco was blown in

to the wagon and affected my head. Dr Van Velden, like most Dutch reverends, had the

habit of smoking all day long, either a pipe or a cigar. Complaints, or serious pleading

did not change this although it was a cause of constant war between Gertrude and Dr

Van Velden. She had to put up with it all the time.

We were on our way for half an hour when I discovered that I had lost four rings. I

had taken them off when washing my hands and put them on the wheel. In a hurry to

prepare our meal I had forgotten all about them. Faure came to the waggon not long


after the discovery and returned immediately to look for them: however, in vain, as one

can imagine. The value of these rings was immense. They had been given to me as gifts

on my departure20 from dear friends in Holland.

At 4 o’clock, Gertrude returned to the waggon and it was decided that Faure and I

should ride in front to look for Scheepers’ house, which was still a long way off. We

wanted to get there before dark. The exact spot was unknown to us so we rode fast, the

road had been repaired recently and was good. In Holland one can hardly imagine that

we in this country can travel for a whole day, yes, even for two days, without seeing

one single dwelling or even an African kraal. All around us was totally deserted. When

the sun went down this desolation did not appeal to me at all.

The hills and valleys formed a welcome change in the setting sun, and we enjoyed

the calm and beauty of it. We continued on our way without discovering anything that

looked like a farm. It grew dark quickly and, as we had gone at some speed, we were,

by that time, a long way ahead of the waggon. I was reluctant to go further, especially

as I had seen Dr Van Velden running towards us from the waggon, as if he wanted to

tell us something. We had not taken any notice because we did not want to lose time.

Mr Naude had told us that near Mr Scheepers’ place we would have difficulty in finding

our way down the hill. We ought to ask for help when we got there. I felt uneasy and

implored Faure to return and see if Dr Van Velden had wanted to tell us that he consid-

ered spending the night on the plain instead of continuing in the dark. The road was so

good that Faure decided to ride on. We reached a brook with clean water and we drank

out of the cups of our hands. We mounted our horses again and bravely started to wade

across the water, but my pony refused. Faure, seeing that I did not succeed in persuad-

ing it, even after he had made a small footpath through the rocks, showed the way and

then came back for my pony. It was very unwilling and when it got to the opposite side

it staggered. I was glad I was not riding at that moment. We sped on. It was completely

dark now and no moon. I was jumpy, the slightest noise made me afraid. I imagined

all sorts of things — animals rounding up on us, even lions in this uninhabited country.

And how could we survive if we had to spend the night in the open in case we did not

find our waggon? We felt the cold night breeze. It made me shiver. Fear had taken hold

of me, even the noise of our own voices frightened me.

At last, we discovered a faint light in the distance. As we approached, we found that

some Englishmen had made a fire. They had unyoked their oxen and decided to spend

the night in their waggon. Where Scheepers lived they could not tell, but it was definitely

a long way off. That was all — not very encouraging! What next? Should we go on, or

return? After hesitating, Faure gave in to my pleading and we returned. I must confess

disappointment; realising that our fruitless effort had taken away my last ounce of cour-

age, I had difficulty in suppressing my tears. At this very moment we heard Mr Naude’s

voice and we discovered that the ox waggon was quite near. The oxen travelled at a

constant speed, hence this unexpected meeting. I was soon consoled and took my place

in the waggon while Faure led my horse. We decided to go on and try to find Scheepers’

place. It was half past eight when we reached the top of the hill21; we saw an open field

and a light in the distance. In some parts the road was so bad that we hardly moved.

Faure also had difficulty in finding his way. At last we could see Scheepers’ place22.

Our shouting seemed to awaken only the dogs. Now and then we saw some movement,

for instance a lamp was taken from one room to the other, but nothing happened. Mr

Naude was getting impatient and wanted to make camp (we had waited three-quarters


of an hour by that time) when we saw some commotion, someone was coming out of

the house to help us. It was Scheepers himself who led us along a very bad road. The

waggon bumped from one stone to another, fortunately the darkness hid the dangerous

situation. When we saw it the next morning, we were glad still to be alive.

We had reached Scheepers’ house but not the end of the bad luck. Gerrit Scheepers

told us that a whooping cough epidemic had broken out and so we could not go inside.

It was not wise to expose our dear little girl to the infection so we decided to spend the

night in the waggon except for Mr Naude and Dr Van Velden. It was our first attempt

of this kind. Coffee and bread and butter were brought to us after which we closed the

waggon thoroughly. We lit the lantern and lay down fully clothed on the mattress. For

Nancy and the baby we had put up a bed in the back of the waggon. In spite of the noise

of the geese, ducks and other fowl, we slept well that night. The sun was already high

on the horizon when we woke up. Gertrude and I started out to wash in a little stream

nearby which soon refreshed us.

Shortly after, we broke camp [on Thursday 12th May], Gertrude, Faure and myself on

horseback. Scheepers had kindly lent us a horse on which Faure rode. Gertrude took his

pony and I rode my own. Faure’s pony was a nice brown one, bought recently from Mr

Naude, but she was not used to being ridden and she was so frightened that Faure had

to take her by the reins. Later I had to change horses with Gertrude. I liked this one, and

so did Gertrude. After a while we reached Bushmans River and a little further on Little

Bushmans River, both known for their dangerous banks23. Faure took Gertrude’s horse

by the reins, I followed on my pony and we came safely to the other side. Fortunately,

I had not been informed that the crossing of these two rivers was dangerous because

of the slippery stones.

Even in these parts, the Bushmen make their annual poaching excursions. The district

of the Tugela to the Drakensberg mountains, their original homeland, lies open to them.

Many times they even operated in the neighbourhood of Pietermaritzburg24. Some years

previously they stole 7000 sheep and 250 oxen near Bushmans River. Oosthuysen25, a

land owner, who lived there, told me he had lost 123 oxen and 38 horses through robbery,

not long ago. It is almost impossible to pursue them. They generally come in troops, with

guns and deadly poisoned arrows, which they handle quite skilfully. To make pursuing

even more difficult, they steal the horses first. The cattle are so frightened by the smell

of the Bushmen (they know it predicts evil) that they run as fast as they can when they

are driven by them, as if they are followed by lions.

The Bushmen live in caves, or sometimes in the open air. They feed on plants and

butchered meat, even in its raw state. Their cruelty is notorious. When they have stolen

cattle, and discover they are being pursued, they kill or mutilate the poor animals so

that they are no use to the owner any more. They leave them on the spot. Many times

one finds sheep with only two or three legs or with a piece of flesh cut out from their

sides. Sometimes their muscles or tendons have been cut so as to make them useless to

the owner. They even leave behind their own children in the woods, like some useless

waste, when they get troublesome during those trips, and where they perish through

lack of food or by wild animals. Some are killed against the rocks which is perhaps a

little more merciful.

I have seen in Pietermaritzburg, Bushmen parents serving in a respectable family,

who, with threats of a beating, had to be forced not to leave their naked babies out in

the frosty night but to take them into the house.


Out of more than a hundred animals that have been stolen, one finds, after several

days, only a dozen still alive, the rest having been gruesomely butchered. What they

steal is generally given up. The rapidity with which they proceed along the dangerous

paths over the rocks (which they climb without difficulty) terrifies the animals (the ones

that won’t go are thrown down) and makes it impossible to go after them. Their caves

are inaccessible. They are safe there. Besides the English Government has prohibited

the killing of them. When they are captured they have to be brought to justice where

they are set free on condition that they promise not to steal again, and they are sent off

with some blankets as a reward. That is how many landowners lose a great deal of their

possessions, frustrated by the law. It is also forbidden to take one’s cattle back once

they have crossed certain borders. This was one of the grudges the Boers from the Cape

have against the Government and for which they left the country to go to Natal. Mr

Naude told us that before this ‘trek’ to Natal they actually saw their cattle being stolen

without having the right to take them back. It was said that the Government would pay

compensation and therefore pursuing was prohibited. When some sheep and oxen fell

into the hands of the government the prey was sold and the money given to the victims

as damages. The freedom of the Bushmen was called ‘humanity’. As proof of their

cruelty, they often, out of simple blood-thirst, killed and butchered the cattle guards.

Not one beast of prey was more feared and shunned than the Bushmen!

After leaving Scheepers’ place, we came through most interesting countryside. We

crossed a small brook called Moordspruit26, the water of which was coloured red by

the bloodshed, 13 or 14 years previously, by Dingaan, ‘Africa’s Nero’27. His victims

were mainly Boers, but also among his own subjects. The Boers who had penetrated

the country, were killed28 by this cruel monster. We had now neared Blauwkrans, the

place where Dingaan murdered Retief and those who were with him, in his own kraal29.

Retief had pretended to be a member of a Commission of Boers and had spoken words

of hospitality and greetings of peace. After this horrible deed Dingaan attacked the

waggons of Boers and killed the wives and children treacherously. Retief and his men

had been invited to dinner and, suspecting no harm, had been slaughtered. Many lost,

on that particular day, their fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters. Parents had been

robbed of their children. Nobody was able to escape, for Dingaan had ordered the

waggons, in which some people tried to hide, to be stabbed by the Zulus; tents were

torn to pieces, the heads of babies were smashed against the wheels of their waggons.

Women were cut open and two babies met with all kinds of cruelties. It is thought that

some 616 souls, men, women and children were slaughtered on that spot. No wonder

Blauwkrans is called ‘Place of bloodshed’. We saw many deserted African kraals from

which Dingaan’s subjects had fled in fear of his wrath. Nature, wild and beautiful in its

wilderness, is in accordance to those awful remembrances.

We saw an unusual occurrence, at least for us it was, 23 large eagles feasting on a

dead animal, probably a dead ox that had perished on the road. The most spectacular

thing was that one bird watched the whole scene from a dead tree.

At sunset we arrived at the broad and most beautiful river of the Colony of Natal, the

Tugela30. It seemed to me to be too wide to be crossed on horseback so I left my dear

animal in Faure’s care and climbed the waggon. It is still strange to me to wade a river

and I do it with fear in my heart. Faure, on his horse, led mine by hand. Now and again

I saw them stumble and I was glad to be in the waggon. The bank of the other side was

steep and the path leading to the hills was even more so. Mr Naude had to use his whip


to persuade the oxen and an Afrikaner, willing to help, used his also. The oxen not used

to two whips at a time started to protest, some tried to turn round, others wanted to run

away and some refused to go one step. In the confusion, Nancy, with our child in her

arms, jumped out of the waggon. Two oxen broke their yoke, while Mr Naude tried to

retain control over the animals so that he could repair the yoke.

Gertrude, Dr Van Velden and I got out of the waggon, preferring to climb the hill on

foot rather than in the waggon. As soon as we had reached the top, Faure and I mounted

our horses while the others took their seats in the waggon. After a quarter of an hour we

arrived at Groot Tugela31, a small village consisting of a few houses , built only recently.

It is a neat, quiet place on the bank of the river Tugela. It was a nice, calm evening when

we arrived. The house of Mr De Waal, who had moved to Pietermaritzburg, was lent

to us in which to spend the night. The house was not quite ready and it certainly was

primitive. We drank tea and coffee in the front room. For supper we had hot and cold

meat, potatoes, eggs and bread. It was very cold that night. The cold night air penetrated

the thatched roof due to the fact that the ceiling , as in most South African houses, was

omitted. If it does exist, it is timber boarding. My greatest concern was for my dear

little Marianne who was not used to the cold and inconvenience.

The next morning [Friday 13th May] we started off early. The road was bad, with

many loose stones, and many times we had to lead our horses by hand. The first stop

was between Tugela and Ladysmith. The drift32 over the Klip River was too dangerous.

So we all got into the waggon, leaving our horses to the care of one of the Africans. At

noon we arrived at Ladysmith. We had seen many waggons, with churchgoers, on our

way. They came from different regions. Ladysmith looked most attractive and promising.

The situation was not glamorous, hardly a tree to be seen but the general impression

was one of joy and festivity, 150 ox waggons and many tents were gathered. Many

churchgoers had come on horseback, according to African custom. The oxen and horses

grazed freely in the surrounding field. Almost without exception there was a tent next

to every waggon; imagine the sight of these white tents, some closed, some open and

all the white hoods of the ox waggons. In their midst was the neat and simple church

building, to be consecrated the next day [Saturday 14th May]. From all directions more

churchgoers came down the hills. It was a touching, patriarchical scene.

We wanted to go to Captain Struben’s house33, Magistrate of Klip River and looked

for it. Soon we saw a nice cottage, the most respectable house in the village. We thought

it would be the Magistrate’s dwelling and we were not disappointed. We knocked (one

does not find door bells in primitive Natal or rarely, perhaps I saw one or two in Piet-

ermaritzburg). The door opened and Captain Struben and his wife greeted us cordially

and bade us come inside. Their large and cosy cottage was elegantly arranged. There

was a verandah along the side with brown painted lattice work. A few trees in the

English garden gave more privacy to the house. The Strubens wanted us to stay with

them. I was against it, because here again there was whooping cough in the house. What

could be done? There was no accommodation elsewhere. Mr Naude could sleep in the

waggon. Although we had brought a tent it was not suitable as an abode for several

days, certainly not for a baby. Mrs Struben was so kind as to offer us a room, separate

from the house where our little Marianne could stay, with no contact with the coughing

children. We accepted this generous offer gratefully, and by God’s grace our dear child

was saved. Captain Struben was born a Dutchman and, indeed, he was one at heart.

His father came to Holland as a boy of 16 with the regiment of the Waldeckers34 whose


Colonel he became. Capt. Struben served with the Dutch Marines for some time. Later

on he went to England, where he married an elegant, cultured and amiable English

girl. For some time they lived in Rotterdam, then they returned to England, where his

wife’s relatives lived. Some three year ago he was appointed Magistrate of Klip River,

the result of a visit to these parts of the world. After he started his civilian service, his

wife came over to Natal. He is a respected man amongst the Boers and very popular

because of his open character and broad views.

As a human being and as a countryman, we have learned to appreciate him also. His

wife is adorable. She has been brought up wealthy, but she has adapted herself so well

that she stole all hearts. She also speaks Dutch very well.

A few hours after our arrival, Gertrude and I went out to visit the churchgoers in their

tents. This seemed to please them and the next day I had to visit as many people as

was possible so as not to disappoint them. At dinner a few guests had been invited, it

turned out to be a nice, quiet evening. To show how naïve the views of the Afrikaners

can be, I want to mention how easily they can be misled. Capt. Struben told us that,

three or four years ago there happened to be an elderly lady, whose way of life had not

been unscrupulous, set herself up as the Mother of the Messiah. I did not quite get her

ideas, but I have learnt that she had great success with the Boers, who respected her as

a prophetess, and treated her with respect and admiration. Many had been persuaded

to travel to Jerusalem, where great things would take place. Her death put an end to all

this, on her deathbed she confessed to have cheated and also that there had been a man

behind these things. It was exactly at this time that Capt. Struben was on one of his of-

ficial excursions. He visited a farm, where the inhabitants were busy preparing their ox

waggons with many things, as many as they could possibly pack for a long journey. In

answer to his questions they told Captain Struben that the prophetess had visited them,

and now they intended to go to Jerusalem. All the members of the family had made the

same decision and they were ready to depart soon.

‘But how will you get there, dear friends?’ Capt. Struben asked.

‘If we go eastwards all the time, we can’t miss it’ they answered.

‘But how can you cross the sea with your ox waggons?’ They had not thought of this,

their knowledge of geography was not far-reaching, some of them had never seen the

sea, they hardly knew the word. With astonishment they looked at each other.

‘Is there no other way?’ The prophetess had not mentioned the sea and she was sure

to know.

Capt. Struben asked for a piece of chalk or charcoal and started to draw, as well as

he could from memory, a world-map on the rough table. They started to confide in him

and looked at each other hesitantly. At last they exclaimed ‘But then the prophetess

must be wrong, however impossible that seems. We shall postpone our plans and see

what the others are going to do.’

Half a year later (Capt. Struben had almost forgotten the incident) the owners of the

farm came to visit him. ‘What, you here?’the Magistrate asked him. ‘I thought you had

gone to Jerusalem.’

‘No’, the man replied, ‘we know now that you were right and that we can trust

you.’

‘But what has changed your mind?’ the Magistrate asked.

‘Well’, he answered, ‘some time after you had left we saw an old Bible at our

neighbour’s farm, in it was an old map and that was exactly as you had drawn for us.


Then we knew that it was true and we are ready to believe all you say. I am glad that

Mr Struben came just in time!’

I mentioned this incident to prove how naïve the Afrikaners are, and to point out how

much they respect the Bible and all it says. It is of the greatest value to be careful in

selecting the Europeans to be sent out, teachers, lawyers, reverends.

The next day [Saturday 14th May] the consecration of the Church was to take place.

I visited many tents, all by myself, that day, and again I was pleased to see how wel-

come I was. As soon as I entered someone hastened to give me a camp-stool and from

all sides they rushed in to see and welcome ‘The wife of our reverend’ (as it said on

my letter of introduction). I stretched out to shake hands and tried to have a personal

word with everyone.

In each tent I was urgently invited to have a cup of tea or coffee; I had to try their

new baked bread or their roast chicken or duck. As I happened to come at the time they

had their meals, I feared indigestion.

The sound of church bells called me away from my friends to go home. I was sorry not

to have been able to visit them all. It seemed they considered the wife of the reverend

a bit young, due to my looks, for they asked me again and again how old I was. I told

them I had a child, 9 months old, so they concluded I had married very young. This, to

prove that the African climate and the journey have had no affect on me. The African

woman ages quickly as a rule, due to the climate and the hard life.

At the consecration of the Church Dr Van Velden read from Genesis 28, Verse 19

‘and he called the name of that place Beth-el’.

After the service we had refreshments. Visitors came all the time, so it was not a quiet

dinner. One of the people whom I had visited the previous day brought me a roast duck.

After dinner Faure took the service of Preparation and Admission, his text being 1 Cor.

11, Verse 28 ‘But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink

of that cup’. I needed some rest and remained at home. The inside of the church was

not yet complete, the pulpit for instance was made of some cases, one on top of the

other, covered by a table cloth; a footstool helped the preachers to climb to the pulpit,

a hazardous procedure! I feared many times Faure would tumble down, pulpit and all.

There also were no lamps yet. To have light the churchgoers brought their own candles,

holding them in their hands all the time, during the service. A few had been more in-

ventive and put them on bottles. One has to adapt one’s self to the circumstances. On

Sunday May 15th Faure took the Holy Communion Service, according to John 6, Verse

48 ‘I am the bread of life’.

Dr van der Hoff35 had arrived at Ladysmith the previous day [Saturday 14th May],

he was on his way, with his wife and child, to Mooi River36 in the Transvaal Republic,

where he had been called by the Transvaalers; he had been sent out as a preacher to

the Cape. A few months after his arrival he got this new job. Dr Van Velden took the

Thanksgiving Service in the afternoon and on this occasion Faure baptised no less that

53 children. After the service we went to one of the tents, where a child, meant to be

baptised, lay severely ill. It looked as if he was going to die and the parents urgently

bade Faure to baptise him there and then. The deacon was also present.

With Dr van der Hoff and his family we had dinner at the house of our kind host. Dr

van der Hoff led the evening service and preached from the text Mark 4, Verses 33–35

‘And with many such parables spake he the word unto them as they were able to hear it.


But without a parable spake he not unto them: and when they were alone he expounded

all things to his disciples’.

I had caught a cold and did not go and when many visitors arrived I slipped off to

bed early. We had planned our departure for the next day [Monday 16th May]. Dr Van

Velden set off before us to lecture to his parish. I went to visit some people in tents

with my sister-in-law and to our great relief we found the sick child much better and

ready to go home.

It was half past two [afternoon of the 16th May] when we left our hosts and their

hospitable home. After the waggon had left, Faure and I followed on horseback. Again

we crossed the Klip River, at another drift this time37, for we rode in the opposite direc-

tion, towards Little Tugela River. We went westwards hoping to reach Deacon Caspar

Labuschagne’s home38 before night fall, where on Wednesday May 18th a service would

be held. A long journey lay ahead of us, and because the road was very bad we had to

make our way through banks of sand and stones. The sky was dark with menacing clouds.

Fortunately, we could climb into the waggon when the rain came. We left our horses

in the care of an African and hurriedly made for Caspar’s house. We had to cross the

Tugela at a bad drift and there was even the possibility that the water would be high.

At half past five, darkness fell, still no sign of the river. It did not look too good. We

had a lantern, but no place to hang it, so that was no use. For some time we held it in

our hands but with the rolling of the waggon the candelight soon extinguished. At last

we reached the river [Tugela]. We found we had to go down a steep slope while the

one on the other side of the Tugela seemed even worse. When going down, the waggon

stood almost vertically, so that I held my hands in front of my eyes so as not to see the

danger. Wading at this point was very risky as the water was deep and the river bed full

of holes, two of the oxen stumbled and fell. A steep rocky path awaited us on the other

side but we arrived safely at half past eight at Labuschagne’s house39. The rain came

down in torrrents and I was afraid to expose Marianne to the damp night air. The wag-

gon could not get close to the house. Gertrude felt sick after the uncomfortable trip, so

we decided to remain in the waggon that night. Faure and I went inside the house and

returned after a light supper, to the waggon. Supper consisted of meat, potatoes and dry

rice with a glass of fresh milk, usually the only drink for the Boers. In a white cup we

made a night light, lit it, and made a sleeping place for Nancy and baby, after which we

went to sleep, fully clothed, on the mattress. It was a cold night and to make it worse the

hood leaked here and there. At dawn we saw that our blankets were soaked in several

places. Nancy did not feel well either, she had to go in and out of the waggon, letting

in the cold air. It kept on raining, so we decided to go to the hospitable house. It was

a primitive dwelling, a living room and two bedrooms with curtains instead of doors.

One of the bedrooms was prepared for us. As in most houses, there was no ceiling,

only the roof over our heads. The windows had no glass, only wooden shutters, closed

all day long because of the rain. We were glad to leave the dark bedroom and go to the

living room, where the whole family gathered. The shutters were also closed here but

the light came in through the half open door. It is not easy to describe our bedroom,

under the bed pots of honey were stacked, sacks of lard, flour and all kinds of seeds,

etc. Hanging along the walls were weapons and our host’s Sunday hat and coat. The

rain coming down steadily, kept us indoors all day. Gertrude lay ill in bed. At noon a

thunderstorm broke out with flashes of lightning. The whole day I felt miserable cold,

due to the damp clay floors.


When we woke up the next day [Tuesday 17th May] the rain had stopped and al-

though the roads would be bad after the constant rain, we decided to proceed on our

journey. When we were ready to leave, there was a great tumult. It appeared that a lion

had dragged away many sheep during the night, right in front of the house. Lions come

regularly in these parts. We took the way to Klein Tugela [Labuschagne’s Rustenburg]

accompanied by the father and his sons, who followed the lion’s tracks. We did not

fancy a lion hunt! The waggon had gone on ahead and we followed on horseback. The

road was drenched and very slippery, so that we had to dismount several times. The

trail of the lion led away from our road in another direction, but we could not forget it

and turned around at every sound.

After about 3½ hours we came to a fast flowing river [probably the Tugela] and when

we had crossed it we reached the church place, Klein Tugela40, a vast empty field with

only one building, the small church, where 13 or 14 ox waggons had gathered. More

churchgoers arrived soon after us. Hurriedly we prepared our meal, helped by some of

the churchgoers, one brought boiling water, others brought meat, bread and rusks. We

soon had our meal, together with the provisions we had brought along. After having

written down the names of the children to be baptised and those of the grown ups to be

confirmed (with which I helped my husband, like a true reverend’s wife), we all went to

church. The service started at 7 o’clock in the evening. Faure preached from the text 1

Thess. 5, Verse 17 ‘Pray without ceasing’. Here also there were only candles in bottles.

I was amazed that the children made so much noise, they even talked aloud. After the

service we returned to our waggon while the church was being prepared to serve as a

shelter for various church people, including Mr Naude. The cold night made me run to

our waggon and the next day we saw frost on the ground. The service started early at

7 o’clock, in the morning [of Wednesday 18th May]. Faure read from Psalm 23 ‘The

Lord is my shepherd’. At 11 o’clock we were ready to leave. Honey and milk had been

brought to us. The region we came through was most interesting, we saw clearly the

Drakensberg mountains with their snow-capped peaks against the blue sky. During our

stay at Tugela church place we had admired this range and now when we drew nearer I

was disappointed that we did not have time to go there and admire the waterfall [Tugela

Falls], coming down from 1000 feet high. We had been told that we could reach it after

three hours riding without effort, but alas time failed us.

The Drakensberg mountains are known to be very interesting for tourists, there are

Bushmen and many beasts of prey, lions, buffaloes, hippos, eland etc., especially on the

other side of the mountains. We approached the land of Moshesh, king of the hostile

tribe of the Basouto which had fought the English Government, a short while ago. We

went through the Sterkspruit41 and the Little Tugela, both rivers are generally high in

summertime, but now they were low. We came through grass fields, where the grass

stood 2½–3 feet high. Even on horseback it was difficult to ride through, it is called

Tamboeki grass, owing to the deep holes it covers. These holes are made by ‘aardvarken’

[antbears — Orycteropus afer. Smithers, p. 599] and are dangerous because the horses

may stumble or even fall. We went on carefully and saw many wild animals, for instance,

large buck called hartebeest, brown and with huge horns. We visited some Boers whom

we met at the church place and were cordially welcomed. The weather was glorious,

the air was warm, not oppressive and the trip, that would be a long one, as we had to

go to Kaalspruit42 before nightfall, did not worry us.


Evening fell and we had some horses riding ahead of us. We reached an African kraal

and changed some raw meat for wood to be able to cook our meal when we arrived at

the camping place near Blauwkrans43. The moon was high and clear in the sky, shedding

a beautiful serene light on the plain. We passed fields of Turkish corn [grain] and meal-

ies on which our horses fed now and then. It was one of those nights which can never

be forgotten. We were ahead of our waggon and we talked about our dear Fatherland

and the loved ones we had left behind. Our hearts lived in the past. What struck me

was the constant change in temperature, it was cold in some parts and warm in others.

At the camping place we met another waggon. We made a fire for all of us, spread the

mat and the Indian carpet and sat around the fire, it gave us a nice warm feeling in the

chilly night. It was half past nine. The coffee was soon made, our good, kind fellow

traveller Mr Naude went out of his way to help, he grilled sausages and steak over the

fire. I had never before seen a roast prepared this way, it was very tasty. At half past

eleven we broke up to go to our waggon to sleep. Mr Naude took a rug, put it under the

waggon and fell asleep. He was glad that the horses had the excellent idea of accom-

panying him, for it was a cold night. When he woke up he saw a horse lying on either

side. We opened our waggon and found breakfast ready [?19th or 20th May], thanks

to Mr Naude. We had not slept much owing to the wild shouts of Africans, probably

a festivity in one of the kraals. It must have been a joyful event! When the African,

who was our leader saw that Mr Naude was preparing breakfast, while we were still

in the waggon, he asked our deacon in mysterious terms who was the big boss in the

waggon who had 3 wives? And if Mr Naude had more? There is no law yet forbidding

polygamy for Africans and a chief who is rich and respectable has many wives. Women

are still a matter of trade.

Faure and I mounted our horses at 8 o’clock. There was a frost and the ground was

white. At 10 o’clock I lent my horse to Gertrude who with Faure, rode on to Scheep-

ers’ place [Wagendrift] where we had spent the night at the beginning of our trip. We

crossed the Bushmans River where we bumped and rocked uncomfortably. Finally,

we reached our destination. Remembering the prevailing whooping cough, I wanted

to keep at a distance. When the waggon halted Faure came to meet us, together with

Gerrit Scheepers44 and his son-in-law Oosthuysen, whose parents had been murdered

by Dingaan, near Blauwkrans. I felt ill and exhausted and preferred to remain in the

waggon but Faure insisted I should get out and have dinner with the Scheepers. I gave

in and left Marianne and Nancy in the waggon.

A disagreeable surprise awaited us. We had counted on getting another leader and

oxen at Scheepers’ place but we were disappointed. The leader told us he had to be

back in time to hand over the oxen to his master and he refused to come. We were

obliged to go on for the next Sunday Service [22nd May] was to be at Boschfontein,

Mr Naude’s place, and to get there we had to make haste. We had hoped to camp that

night at Mooi River. Scheepers and Oosthuysen talked to our leader for a long time in

his own language and succeeded in persuading him to go with us part of the way. We

could not understand what they said, but it was evident that the man was frightened.

Oosthuysen told us afterwards that he had said Mr Faure was a mighty head of the white

people and a friend of the Government and if he persisted, he would be handed over

to the police and be punished. We only stayed for a short time at Scheepers’ house and

departed at 3 o’clock [in the afternoon of ?Saturday 21st May]. I tried to ride my horse

but I felt sick and had a terrible headache, so that every movement was too much for


me. We tried to overtake the waggon and so it was necessary to ride fast; unfortunately

it took some time before we sighted it.

Evening fell, the road was bad and unused, in many places we had to go through

swamps or make detours to avoid them. It was dark when we finally caught up with

our waggon. Faure wanted to camp knowing how much I needed a rest, but Mr Naude

did not agree. I lay down on the mattress and immediately fell asleep. I already felt a

little better when Faure brought me my supper, a slice of bread and cold chicken. Like

the night before Mr Naude camped under the waggon with the promise he would wake

us early for we had to start at dawn. Fearing our African leader might escape we gave

him a good meal. Mr Naude threatened him with a severe punishment if he tried to run

away. But in spite of this he went while it was still dark, Mr Naude awakened us with

the bad news [on 20th May]. The oxen were still there for they had been fastened to

the waggon and could not be taken away without making too much noise. Our horses

were let loose, they never go a long way. They were still there. What next? We were

at a loss, the oxen were not used to Mr Naude, besides he did not know the way and

as the road was untrodden and full of holes, he was reluctant to take the responsibility.

We decided to proceed slowly and very carefully. Faure would ride ahead and see if

he could get some help. We had seen some tents in the distance. They belonged to an

Englishman, who was in charge of some Africans repairing the road to Bushmans River.

He willingly lent us one man to act as our leader.

This being arranged I jumped out of the waggon to accompany Faure. While he saddled

my horse the waggon went on. We soon caught up with it, when Faure remarked that

neither, in front nor at the back the leader could be seen. We wanted to ask Mr Naude

if the leader was perhaps sitting next to him, when he turned round and answered he

had not seen him for some time and asked us if we had seen him anywhere. So that

was the end of it, African No. 2 had escaped, but how? We had not seen him, although

we had been following at a short distance. Possibly the man did not like to walk in the

cold morning air and had taken cover in the high grass, we had to continue without

a leader as well as possible. At Mr Naude’s request we rode to Mooi River where we

would try and find an able leader and send him to the waggon, for, at Mooi River the

waggon would have to negotiate a steep downhill path. It was cold and my hands were

numb. I could hardly hold the reins. I had put on a warm coat and a fur, but I still felt

the cold. I had not expected it in Natal. I put on two pairs of gloves, the sharp wind

was blowing hard, the sky was hazy and it took a long time before the sun could force

its way through heavy, dark clouds. We took a shortcut to the river, meandering quietly

and beautifully through the valley at our feet, not unlike a silver snake creeping through

the dark green grass. What a pity, we were in such a hurry! Gradually the footpath got

steeper and we had to dismount and lead our horses by hand. The river was swollen,

but we came through without difficulty.

We found a small inn45, owned by an Englishman and soon we were sitting near

the fire waiting for the waggon. We had been lucky to find an African willing to lead

the waggon down the slope and through the river, but no further. It was half past nine

when at last the waggon arrived. Our poor deacon was exhausted, no wonder. Only

someone who knows Africa would understand what it is to be a leader and driver at the

same time. Our poor friend had to walk beside the waggon most of the time, looking

on both sides to calm the oxen. We had lunch at the Hotel, bread and chicken, wine

and coffee. At 4 o’clock [afternoon of 21st May] Faure and I mounted our horses to go


with speed to Boschfontein and sent Mr Naude’s own leader back to him to help him to

climb the difficult path in the rocks near his place. On our trip we passed rocky hills,

very picturesque with aloes and beautiful valleys formed by the hills. On the grassy

plains, amidst dark woods, a mass of cattle was grazing peacefully. To me Boschfontein,

with its lovely valleys, majestic woods and flowered hills always has a great attraction.

When we arrived at Mr Naude’s place [Boschfontein], we sent him the Africans without

delay, a leader and a driver. A few hours later the waggon arrived safely. Every year

some wild animals are being shot at Boschfontein, lions, buffaloes and eland. Shortly

before we arrived some mares and a colt had been dragged away by a lion and after

our return to Pietermaritzburg a lion had been seen on the very spot where we stood,

near the house of our deacon.

The next day, being a Sunday [22nd May], Faure preached to about 50 people. This

service was held in the front room. The text was Matthew 11, Verse 28 ‘Come unto me,

all ye that labour and are heavily laden, and I will give you rest’.

On Monday [23rd May] we rode out on a pastoral visit, Faure, Gertrude, Mr Naude

and myself. We dined with Jan Naude’s family46, brother of our deacon, and so we

had the opportunity to get acquainted with the beautiful surroundings. At night Faure

held a simple service, the text being Romans 8, Verse 31 ‘If God be for us, who can

be against us?’

The next day [Tuesday 24th May] we left our kind host to return to Pietermaritzburg

on horseback. Faure and I visited Petrus Potgieter47 and his family. We crossed the Sterk-

spruit48 and arrived at Karel Preller’s house49 at suppertime. We spent the night there.

Gertrude borrowed a horse and Preller himself accompanied us part of the way. The

waggon was left to the care of Petrus Potgieter whose oxen we borrowed at Boschfon-tein and who acted as driver. He looked after Nancy well and our dear little Marianne,

whom he loved very much. He often said ‘If only I had a little girl like her, then I should

be really happy’. With my sister-in-law we visited the Umghene [Howick] waterfall.

We reached the rectory at Pietermaritzburg at 6 o’clock in the evening of May 25th,

truly contented and happy with our first improvised African excursion, which we shall

always remember with joy.

Marianne Faure50

Born Alewyn

Pietermartizburg June 29th 1853

Translated by Anna Maria Entrop-Le Poole51

In memory of my Great Grandmother.

EDITOR’S NOTE

Marianne Faure’s story was written five weeks after she returned home in 1853. It has

been transcribed several times. Originally written in Dutch it was copied by hand in

Dutch in the early 20th century. Then it was translated into English in the early 1980s. In

1987 I transcribed a typed English translation onto my electric typewriter. Subsequently,

I have typed this into my computer. The author’s memory, the Dutch transcription, the

English translation and subsequent transcriptions may have resulted in the discrepancies

in this publication. I have tried to keep to the original English translation but have made


a few changes e.g. when a river is named, I have used River and I have italicised the

farm names. I have accessed the original document and I have used it to correct some

of the English translation that bothered me. I have not interfered with the language,

ethos or attitudes of the past.

Marianne Faure’s great grand-daughter Marguerite Cotterrell lent me a typed copy in

1987. At that time she was visiting Pietermaritzburg from Thomas River in the Eastern

Cape, South Africa. Since then she has emigrated to South Island, New Zealand to be

with two of her children and her grandchildren. Marguerite is a first cousin of Anna

Maria Entrop-Le Poole, the translator of the Dutch copy. Marguerite has given permis-

sion for the publication of the English translation.

The original Dutch manuscript of 73 pages is in the Witwatersrand University (William

Cullen) Library. The reference is Document 6 of 235, Ref: A36. M (A) Faure. Mijne eerste Afrikaansche excursie 1853, 8 May – 29 June.

Shelagh Spencer was most helpful in lending me copies of early colonial Natal mate-

rial, the Cullingworth map being the most useful in identifying places, and the list of

title deeds from 1847. Shelagh also made useful suggestions and provided additional

information when she checked a draft and the endnotes. Helpful staff of the Natal Mu-

seum include Linda Ireland who found that the original manuscript was listed as being

in the Witwatersrand University Library; Jeremy Hollman who prepared the map; Gavin

Whitelaw who identified the ‘Waldeckers’ for me and who checked the current official

farm and river spellings used in the endnotes; Zandile Mbhele unsuccessfully tried to

effect an Interlibrary Loan. I am grateful to Jo Earle of Johannesburg who accessed

and photocopied Marianne Faure’s Dutch manuscript in the Witwatersrand University

Library, and delivered it to me at home in Pietermaritzburg.

ENDNOTES

1 Rev Hendrik Emanuel Faure, born 17 August 1828, baptised in Cape Town 21 September 1828, died 6

April 1898 at Doesburg, Holland. He married at Soestdyk, Holland 20 November 1851 (South African Genealogies vol. 2 p. 272).

2 Dr Dirk Van Velden (1813–1878), Winburg clergyman 1850–1854. (Dictionary of South African Biography,

vol. 2 p. 809).

3 Orange River Sovereignty (today’s Free State).

4 Gerrit Jacobus Naude (born c. 1809)

5 Gertruida Isabella Faure born 19 February 1827, married in Cape Town 24 August 1853 Marthinus

Frederick Alewijn (South African Genealogies Vol. 2 p. 272).

6 The rectory, in Longmarket Street, now the site of the provincial offices, Natalia.

7 The author’s daughter Marianne Isabella Marthinus Frederika, born 6 September 1852, baptised Cape

Town 24 October 1852 (South African Genealogies Vol. 2 p. 272).

8 Probably present-day Hilton.

9 Probably Cedara area.

10 Karel (or Carl) Fredrik Preller (1801–1870)

11 According to Mrs Holland of Howick Museum, this monument is no longer extant (1988).

12 Present-day view site.

13 Possibly present-day Lion’s River or Mpofana River.

14 Hebron on the Mngeni River in the Lion’s River area. Present-day Hebron Haven Hotel is on the farm.

(Dimock, Lion’s River; Hebron: Cullingworth’s map)

15 Boschfontein, at present-day Caversham.

16 Possibly Mpofana River.

17 There must have been an early snowfall in May.

18 Probably the Ground Hornbill (Bucorvus leadbeateri), a turkey-like bird — David Johnson pers. comm.19 This was downstream from present day Mooi River town, on the Greytown Road.


20 She married Faure in Holland in 1851 and arrived in South Africa in December 1852.

21 Probably Beacon Hill, near the N3 motorway.

22 Wagendrift. A portion of present-day Wagendrift Dam is on this farm.

23 The group travelled west of present-day Estcourt which lies at the confluence of these two rivers.

24 See also John Wright’s Bushman raiders of the Drakensberg.

25 There were several Oosthuysens in the area, including at Wagendrift (Wright).

26 There are a few streams running northwards through the farm Moordspruit, owned by E.G. Landsberg in

1862, and which join the Blaauwkrans River north-east of present-day Frere.

27 The Blaauwkrans attack took place on 17 February 1838 (F.T. du Bruyn)

28 Piet Retief (1780–1838) was leader, with Gerrit Maritz, of the Voortrekkers from the Cape Colony to Natal

in 1837. Because of the hope of obtaining large tracts of land, the Voortrekkers were of great concern to

the Zulu Kingdom, resulting in the murder of Retief at Mgungundlovu, Dingane’s capital (Ballard).

29 Dingane’s kraal was at Mgungungdlovu in the eMakhosini Valley near Melmoth. Retief was murdered

there and not at Blaauwkrans (Colenbrander). Dingane kaSenzangakhona (1795–1840) was the Zulu

chief from 1828 when he obtained the throne by murdering his predecessor, and brother, Shaka. He was

defeated in a battle with the Boer immigrants on 16 December 1838 at Blood River (Ncome). He escaped

to Swaziland where he was deposed by his brother Mpande, and subsequently murdered.

30 Thukela River drift, upstream from present-day Colenso.

31 Probably Tugela Drift farm on the north bank, owned by P.J. de Waal.

32 The road on the 1862 map runs through Herman’s Kraal and crosses the Klip River south-east of

Ladysmith.

33 J.H.M. Struben (1806–1869).

34 Waldeck-Pyrmont was a small principality in the German empire. A Waldeck Battalion was founded in

1681. In 1784 the 5th Waldeck Battalion entered Dutch service. During re-organisation in 1806, the 5th

Waldeck Battalion was disbanded while the other regiments were renamed. Early in the 19th century the

Waldeck regiments left Dutch service. (Ref: http://home.att.net/~david.danner/militaria/waldeck.htm)

35 Dr Dirk van der Hoff (1814–1881), the Transvaal’s first Dutch Reformed Church minister (Dictionary of South African Biography, vol. 2, p. 771)

36 Mooi River Dorp is present-day Potchefstroom.

37 South or west of Ladysmith.

38 This may be on the farm Labuschagne’s Kraal. I have not been able to identify positively Labuschagne’s

‘home’. The description of the next four or five days is very confusing.

39 Probably the farm Rustenburg on the north bank of the Little Tugela River near the confluence with the

Tugela River, east of present-day Winterton. Caspar Jeremias Labuschagne (c1773–1860) was granted

Rustenburg (5241 acres) on 1 April 1851 and Schietdrift (1987 acres) on 1 Jan 1851 — both signed for by

him on 1 April 1852. Schietdrift, adjacent to Rustenburg belonged to J. Caspar Labuschagne.

40 Mrs Elbie Raath of the Dutch Reformed Church Archive in Pietermaritzburg informed me that Reverend

Faure named the little church place (where a church could be built) at Klein Tugela, the Marianne Church,

in honour of his wife. The church subsequently fell into disrepair and by the 1870s was no longer in use

(Record 1694). In Record 5045 Die Kerkbode of 27 May 1854, page 176 records that the church council

and members of the congregation between the Little Thukela and Thukela rivers, Natal have named their

house of God, the Marianne Church after the wife of the minister whom they respected and in remembrance

of her visit to the Lindique Spruit.

41 The Sterkspruit converges with the Little Thukela River south of Caspar Labuschagne’s Rustenburg.

42 The Kaalspruit runs northwards from near Draycott to join the Little Tugela River upstream of its confluence

with the Tugela River.

43 The road on the 1862 map crosses the Blaauw Krans River on J.B. Wessels farm Plessislager and passes

through J. Rudolph’s Blaauwkrans, near present-day Frere.

44 Messrs Oosthuyzen & Scheepers granted Wagendrift (6031 acres) on 1 September 1847 — signed for by

F or T.W. Oosthuyzen.

45 David Gray’s Accommodation House, on the Mooi River at the drift. David Gray was at Mooi River

between 1850 and 1859. The hotel was improved and subsequently owned by John Whipp (in Mooi River

1861–1875) and named John Whipp’s Accommodation House before it was renamed the Mooi River Drift

Accommodation House, and finally The Lake Hotel. It burnt down in the 1950s. Information supplied by

Shelagh Spencer, Pietermaritzburg and Phillip Romeyn, Rohde House Museum, Mooi River.

46 At Bosch Hoek, north of and adjacent to Boschfontein.

47 P.E. Potgieter on Wildeals Spruit, west of Boschfontein.

48 Possibly Lion’s River.


49 Hebron, on the Mngeni River at present-day Lion’s River.

50 Baptised Maria Johanna Louisa Alwijn, born 22 May 1830, Amersfoort, Holland. Wife of Rev Hendrik

Emanuel Faure.

51 Translated in the mid 1950s in Holland by Anna Maria Entrop-Le Poole. The translater is the grand-

daughter of Rev H.E. Faure and Marianne Faure-Alewijn’s second son Louis Henry Ferdinand Alewijn

Faure and his wife and cousin, Natalie Gertrude Faure. Information supplied by Marguerite Cotterrell.

Itinerary of My First African Excursion (abstracted by Val Ward)

May 9th Monday. Left Pietermaritzburg, for night at Hebron, Carl Preller’s place.

May 10th Tuesday. Left Hebron for Boschfontein, Deacon Naude’s place.

May 11th Wednesday. Departed Boschfontein for Wagendrift, Scheepers’ place.

May 12th Thursday. Left Wagendrift for Tugela Drift, De Waal’s place.

May 13th Friday. Departed Tugela Drift for Ladysmith, Magistrate Struben’s house.

May 14th Saturday. Ladysmith.

May 15th Sunday. Ladysmith.

May 16th Monday. Left Ladysmith for ?Labuschagne’s KraalMay 17th Tuesday . Left ?Labuschagne’s Kraal for Klein Tugela — Caspar Labuschagne’s Rustenburg.

May 18th Wednesday. Rustenburg farm.

May 19th Thursday. Departed Rustenburg farm for camp near Blaauwkrans.

May 20th Friday. Departed Blaauwkrans for night in open near Mooi River.

May 21st Saturday. Departed camp for Boschfontein, Deacon Naude’s place.

May 22nd Sunday. Boschfontein.

May 23rd Monday. Visited Bosch Hoek, Mr Jan Naude’s place, from BoschfonteinMay 24th Tuesday. Left Boschfontein, visited Petrus Potgieter at Wildeals Spruit on way to Hebron, Preller’s

place.

May 25th Wednesday. Left Hebron for Pietermaritzburg, via Howick Falls.

The exact whereabouts of the party from the evening of Monday 16th May (arrival at Labuschagne’s home)

to the evening of Saturday 21st May (arrival at Naude’s Boschfontein) are unknown.

REFERENCES.

C. Ballard. ‘Traders, trekkers and colonists’, in A. Duminy & Bill Guest. Natal & Zululand from earliest times to 1910: a new history (Pietermaritzburg, 1989) p. 121.

P. Colenbrander. ‘The Zulu Kingdom, 1828–79’, in A. Duminy & Bill Guest. Natal & Zululand from earliest times to 1910: a new history (Pietermaritzburg, 1989) p. 91.

J. Cullingworth. Map of the Colony of Port Natal, South Africa. Compiled and published by Jos. F. Masser,

Lithographer, 25 Boar Lane, Leeds, England and J. Cullingworth, Stationer, Natal Star Office. Durban,

1862.

Dictionary of South African Biography (Cape Town, 1983) Vol. 2.

F.T. du Bruyn. ’The Great Trek’, in T. Cameron, ed. An Illustrated History of South Africa (Johannesburg,

1986) p. 133.

M. (A) Faure, Mijne eerste Afrikaansche excursie. 1853. Unpublished Ms. Witwatersrand University

Library.

Pietermaritzburg Archives Repository, SGO III/12/1. Lists of quitrent and freehold properties from 14 February

1847; Titles to Crown Lands Issued.

R.H.N. Smithers, The Mammals of the Southern African Subregion (University of Pretoria, 1983).

South African Genealogies. (Stellenbosch, 1989) Vol. 2, p. 272

John B. Wright. Bushman raiders of the Natal Drakensberg 1840–1870. (Pietermaritzburg, 1971) pp.

196–201.

VAL WARD

21Pietermaritzburg Gold

Natalia 36–37 (2007), K.N. Greggor pp. 21 –33

Pietermaritzburg GoldThe Natal Camp

Reaching for riches

Gold permeates the dreams of mankind and gold-fever was very characteristic of

the nineteenth century colonies. It was certainly true of the early inhabitants of

Pietermaritzburg, when many, but disappointingly meagre, deposits were being

discovered throughout Natal. When The Natal Mercury published a booklet about

gold in our region the areas around Mfongosi were typically, but misleadingly, said

to be promising. It was at about this time, with a world economy based on gold, that

resources of the metal in the world were becoming scarce. There were even moves to

supplement the Gold Standard with silver. It was then that the early Natal mining camp

on the Witwatersrand was encouraged to work a group of particularly profitable mines,

a rich zone, able to feed news of useful profits through to the new Pietermaritzburg

Stock Exchange.

The original Natal Camp was noticeably better ordered than the other rough mining

camps of the nascent Johannesburg, and the townships which the Camp spawned sub-

sequently became shopping and social gathering centres for the ordinary residents of

the new town. The area to the west of the new railway line began to resemble a suburb

of Pietermaritzburg, housing many families of mine workers who had come from Natal.

These Natal people in the Camp were to contribute much to the establishment and en-

richment of Johannesburg, and continued to provide a labour force when the move into

extensive deep-level mining to the south of Johannesburg took place, and the suburbs

of Jeppestown and City & Suburban eventually overtook the early camp settlements.

Gold mining in Natal

During the latter half of the nineteenth century, numerous finds of gold were being

explored in Natal. They were mostly scattered in the north of the colony, but also at

Umzinto in the south, and by 1886, mining ventures were proliferating along the Thukela

river, just to the east of the Thukela Ferry area, along the north bank of the river, from the

Mfongosi river towards the village of Ngubevu (some 20km to the east of the Greytown-

Helpmekaar road), and in the spectacularly rugged gorges, towards where the Buffalo


22 Pietermaritzburg Gold

river joins the Thukela. In November

1868 The Natal Witness reported

rather vaguely on these discoveries.

The resultant euphoria was shortlived

but had revived a little by 1890, and

today we have only confused records

of the ventures.

Apart from the mines around

Ngubevu, there were some sixteen

other gold-mining ventures in north-

ern Natal. There were companies

and syndicates such as the Golden

Eagle Mine, where grains of clearly

visible gold had been pointed out

by a Msinga tribesman at a footpath

over the Ngubevu stream. An impres-

sively large nugget was found at a

bridge site near to Nondweni (east

of Nqutu). Greytown became the focus of enthusiasm. Closer to Pietermaritzburg, the

Inspector of Mines reported that Messrs. Ekstein and Co. drove an adit 200 metres into

a reef which had been discovered close to Table Mountain, east of the city.

Gold was found to occur primarily in quartz veins through very ancient slate, ini-

tially yielding as much as a very impressive eight ounces per ton of ore crushed. But

these early windfall yields decreased. And, as occurred later on the Witwatersrand, the

ores at some depth suffered from refractory amalgamation with sulphides (pyrites),

such that they yielded up their gold only with great difficulty. By late 1886 the mining

facilities provided by as many as 25 companies and syndicates were rather primitive.

When gold in the ore they managed to crush was extracted, by allowing it to be taken

up in an amalgam with mercury, this amalgam had then to be sent via Pietermarizburg

to Pretoria for the gold to be actually recovered. There were rich pockets which even

included patches of visible gold, but disappointingly, by 1887 the yields had diminished

and even by 1920 an average of only a single kilogram of gold per year was being

recovered in Natal, which compares unfavourably with the 3 000 kilograms a year in

the very earliest years of the Witwatersrand. The Natal Mining Company had installed

expensive equipment such as a 10-stamp ore-crushing battery in Natal but had to stop

operating by 1890 when less than one intermittent ounce per ton was being obtained.

Also, by then the Witwatersrand goldfields were absorbing all the willing and available

labour. Thus by 1900 the Natal Mining Commissioner had to report that ‘the output of

Gold in Natal [was] insignificant’. Nevertheless the Wonder Mine situated in what is

now the Ithala Game reserve near Louwsberg, was reported to have produced profit-

able returns during the years between 1908 and 1911 and Nancy Gardiner says that the

Golden Dove Mine was in operation as late as 1951. Another mine was in operation

near Ngubevu until the 1940s.

The ambitious plans for the developments at Mfongosi were abandoned, along with

whatever heavy machinery had been installed. From then on, and into the 20th century,

gold mining ventures along the Thukela have been largely restricted to an intermittent and


very dangerous, frequently fatal, ‘pig-rooting’ of tunnels dug by Msinga tribesmen along

the river banks. Some gold seems still to be there for the finding in KwaZulu-Natal.

The very ancient geologies in Natal seemed similar to those of the then booming

Barberton fields in the Transvaal Republic, and it was largely the relatively poor

returns of the Thukela ventures that towards the end of the 1800s precipitated a rush

from Natal into the Transvaal. The year1886 was the momentous one during which the

new eldorado of gold was discovered on the Witwatersrand, over large farms, across

grass plains that had been occupied by Voortrekker families since the 1850s. In July

1886 The Natal Mercury had described these as ‘farms which are nothing more than

veritable gold vaults’.

The Witwatersrand geology and the discovery of gold reefs

The Witwatersrand gold reefs had, some unimaginable two thousand million years ago,

been deposited, like a filling in a sandwich cake, in a large basin, the edges of which

dipped down sharply from a long, somewhat broken east-west line of an intermittently

visible outcrop. From early winter in 1886 prospectors were wandering over the bare,

treeless veld in an optimistic search for this new and barely understood source of great

riches. In the Ferreira’s Camp, the present Ferreirastown in Johannesburg, the stretch of

the main reef was visible, outcropping at the surface, and it became the focus of further

exploration. Dr Hans Sauer from Kimberley, referred to by his friend Cecil Rhodes as

a ‘genial ruffian’, combined a medical practice with prospecting on Rhodes’s behalf. A

Johannesburg, 1886. (From the photograph album of Max Nicholls, now in the German House Museum, Royal Showgrounds, Pietermaritzburg.) Nicholls’ father, Horace W. Nicholls, was one of Johannesburg’s early photographers. In 1899 he had the Goch Studio in Pritchard Street. He later moved to Pietermaritzburg where he had his studio in a double-storeyed building on the corner of Longmarket (Chief Langalibalele Street) and Fleming streets. Bramhill Building now encompasses the site.


son of the widow Petronella Oosthuizen (the exploited owner of a farm at Langlaagte

out to the west, on which the main gold reefs had first been discovered) guided Dr Sauer

hopefully eastwards from the Ferreira’s Camp outcrop of the main reef, over a kilometre

or two of ground where the main group of gold reefs was hidden, undiscovered, under

a layer of red soil. They then found themselves in a dip through which a small, marshy

stream (to be named Natal Spruit) had cut its way down from the surface through the

overburden of the soil, revealing again the reef where there was a small waterfall over

the exposed outcrop of the main reef and its accompanying main-reef leader. Oosthuizen

thought then that the country to the east (the whole of the fabulous East Rand) was

wild and not worth bothering about, and presumably Dr Sauer accepted her opinion.

This was one of the many unsung and momentous blunders of Witwatersrand history

associated with that colossus Cecil John Rhodes.

It is also recorded that Frank M.Wolhuter from Natal was actively prospecting in the

area before 1886.

John Charlton’s initiative

Another of the Natal entrepreneurs was John Charlton, a building contractor in

Pietermaritzburg. Building operations typified business entrepreneurship in the city

at that time, and according to Eric Rosenthal the restlessness of gold-hungry sons

in Pietermaritzburg had resulted in at least one family construction business being

abandoned. John Charlton, concerned by the Mfongosi disappointments, was during

1886 on his way to explore possibilities, on behalf of a Pietermarizburg syndicate, in the

Barberton area of the eastern Transvaal where impressively payable gold was being mined

from very ancient geologies. These geologies, as mentioned, seemed to be remarkably

similar to those at Mfongosi. The railway did not reach the central Transvaal until

1895, and Charlton’s journey was long and slow, largely by ox-wagon. But according

to T.V. Bulpin, he had the good fortune en route of falling in with Veld Kornet J.P.

Meyer. Meyer had grown up on the Klipriviersberg farm just south of Johannesburg

and had found himself by default, in the role of a government mining commissioner in

the Transvaal Republic. He was busy spreading the word of the new sources of riches

on the Witwatersrand.

Dr Sauer had been excited to find confirmation of the existence of the group of gold

reefs at the Natal Spruit stream by identifying the presence of a set of the indicative shale

and quartzite rocks at Jeppestown, known subsequently as the ‘Red bar’, underlying the

gold strata. Interestingly, Sauer was pre-empting the use during the 1930s of the iron

content of these strata below the gold reefs, in locating the fabulous West Rand gold

fields. Rhodes was, however, in strangely cautious phase and ignored his friend’s find

at the Natal Spruit. He was concerned by the relative sparseness of gold returns on the

Witwatersrand — perhaps one or two ounces of invisible gold per ton of ore being mined

at Ferreira’s Camp — whereas in the eastern Transvaal, and even at Mfongosi, patches

yielding several ounces to the ton were being found. There were even visible streaks

and nuggets, such as were generally not seen on the Witwaterstand. And Rhodes was

concerned also that the nature of the Wiwatersrand deposits was strangely different to

anything elsewhere in the world. He was not then aware that the amazingly extensive

and consistent nature of the deposits would more than compensate for their relative


sparseness. The consensus of opinion at that stage was that the discovered outcrop of

the Witwatersrand main reef was simply the edge of an essentially narrow, ancient, tilted

river bed containing limited alluvial gold deposits. The possibility of an extensive basin

of gold reef was not considered.

Despite these doubts, however, and being Cecil John Rhodes, he was not long in

climbing back on to the wagon of opportunity.

At about this momentous stage of 1886 John Charlton arrived, explored, and was able

to report back to his syndicate in Pietermaritzburg on the presence of 12 ‘parallel reefs’

across the few metres width of the Natal Spruit outcrop, in the area which became the

Natal Camp and which is today in Johannesburg’s suburb of Jeppestown. These reef

outcrops were in fact all simply broken fragments of the fabulous main reef group,

exposed (as Dr Hans Sauer had discovered) at the marshy little stream. Following the

surge of Natal hopefuls, the area was named the Natal Camp. Charlton’s confusion as

to the scattered nature of these reef outcrops was perhaps because he was expecting

to see something akin to the very ancient, rich and confused geology of the Barberton

and Mfongosi deposits.

The location of the Natal Camp

The Natal Spruit had its origins in the (later) Harrow Road gap in Johannesburg before

running across the future suburb of Doornfontein into a marshy area at Ellis Park and

thence through the present Jeppe dip, before dropping sharply over the strike of the

main reef strata outcrop, a few hundred metres north of the present E-W M2 highway

(Henry George Harrow was the driver of the first passenger train from Pietermaritzburg

to reach Johannesburg). Water was essential to mining and human subsistence, and was

a scarce commodity on the Witwatersrand. Therefore, this place being near water and at

the visible outcrops, early prospectors gathered in numbers along the banks of the stream

(on which a dam was subsequently to be built) and Meyer’s Camp came into existence.

As mentioned, these pioneers were largely financiers and explorers from Natal, and

the camp thus subsequently became known as the Natal Camp. The road to Heidelberg

and on to Natal ran from the Camp down from the present End Street at the edge of

Jeppestown. Maritzburg Street in present Jeppestown also ran as a track down alongside

the spruit, and on to the Heidelberg road. It crosses Durban Street, and runs parallel to

Berea Street. Johannesburg’s Jules Street was originally named Natal Street.

The area of the Natal Camp was thus just to the north of the present M2 motorway

and extended for about 1km eastwards from the present Heidelberg Road-End Street

interchange in central Johannesburg. Most dwellings were located to the east of the

Natal Spruit, but very little trace of the camp and its mining activity can now be found.

There are the low remains of a couple of ore dumps; the canalised route of the Natal

Spruit through the Jeppestown dip; scattered mounds of rock at the site of the Meyer

& Charlton Mine (on the left bank of the stream) and the City & Suburban Mine (on

its right bank); and streets which follow the route of an east-west track which led along

the outcrop of the main reef group; and tracks which were the forerunner of the modern

Main Reef Road. There are also streets which follow the north-south route of the tracks

from the Jeppestown dwellings down to the Meyer & Charlton Mine; and the roads


which came in from Natal. Johannesburg’s Main Street developed from a rough track

where the present Albert Street led off towards Ferreira’s Camp.

The Maritzburg Stock Exchange

Eric Rosenthal remarked on the fact that Pietermaritzburg, though then quite a small

place, in those times had a stock exchange which ranked in importance just behind

Johannesburg and Kimberley. It was established during 1888, opened at 242 Church

Street next to the old Presbyterian Church, and was subsequently in Chancery and

Change Lanes. The distance to the Transvaal had been bridged since the late 1870s

by a telegraph line and in 1881 a postal service using 200 horses was instituted. Then

by 1885 the rail link was in place. Later, in 1894 when the railway line from Durban

reached the Witwatersrand, in exchange for permission for the line to pass through the

Jeppestown Camp area, all passenger trains were obliged to stop at the Jeppestown halt

(Johannesburg’s first suburban train station).

Said Robert Richards, a Pietermaritzburg attorney: ‘Trade is on all sides brisk and

the unemployed have disappeared from the streets’. In jovial mood, the Natal Witness

was pleased to refer to its financial correspondent as its ‘Joker-Broker’.


The very early 1880s had seen a transformation into prosperity in Pietermaritzburg

following the presence of the military after the 1879 Anglo-Zulu War, but by 1883

stagnation had set in, resulting by 1886 in a severe slump. Then came the Witwatersrand

gold bonanza and during 1889 alone Pietermaritzburg floated more than 23 mining

companies, compared perhaps to the total by 1887 of 68 at the emerging Johannesburg

financial market. One of the Pietermarizburg companies, incidentally, had failed in one

particular mining enterprise, but this had resulted in the establishment of Johannesburg’s

prestigious Houghton suburb. The Houghton Estate Gold Mining Company of Piet-

ermaritzburg (the Wolhuter Company/Houghton Syndicate) hoped to mine what was

referred to as the Randfontein Reef and had reportedly sunk shafts as deep as 400 feet

at the foot of Houghton Ridge, to no avail.

The Pietermaritzburg Stock Exchange eventually closed in 1931, at a time when

prosperity had vanished.

The people of the Natal Camp

People whose names were to be written into the history of Johannesburg, many of whom

would have been Natalians, wandered across the wide, empty veld into the Natal Camp

area, during the exceptionally cold winter of 1886.

T.V. Bulpin notes that the young Julius Jeppe from Pretoria, searching across the bare,

treeless, winter veld in order to visit his brother Carl, was able from the empty Hillbrow

ridge one cold night, to see camp fires in the far distance. One of these turned out to be

that of his brother whom he found in the company of Veldkornet Jan Meyer, discussing

such matters as the pegging of claims and all-important issues of water rights. Carl’s

tent was at the site of the reef in the locality of the future Meyer & Charlton Mine, just

to the east of the Natal Spruit — its address: Tent No. 1, Reef.

Carl Jeppe (an attorney), H.B.Marshall and Henry Nourse, persuaded Meyer to mark

off 200 claims along the reefs, adjacent to the spruit, which in the autumn of 1886 they

did in an untutored, somewhat unconventional manner, in the dead of night. It seems

that their action led to a near-lynching by a group of other prospectors who felt they had

been excluded. In terms of the Transvaal mining laws, claims were each to be 150 feet

east to west along the direction of the outcrop, and 400 feet in the southerly direction

of the dip of the reef (46 by 122 metres). Any duly licensed prospector was entitled to

take possession of any vacant claim on condition that it be mined continuously. The

same law did not permit mining underground beyond the boundaries of a claim. With

the reef dipping down at sharp angles of about 60 degrees, it subsequently became

necessary progressively to extend by pegging further claims in the southerly direction

in which the Reefs dipped.

In partnership with Charlton, Meyer was able to establish the very profitable Meyer &

Charlton Mine at the Natal Camp, which was subsequently to be described as the ‘Jewel

of the Rand’. With an estimated life of 13 years — a remarkable figure at the time — it

actually continued in existence as a venture for some 40 years and its original head-

office was in Pietermaritzburg. John Charlton had come to Natal from Scotland, and

had some engineering knowledge, whereas Meyer had recognised a need for technical

assistance. Charlton was in fact to be active throughout theWitwatersrand, and became

wealthy but ultimately lost his wealth and returned to Pietermaritzburg.


The Jubilee Mining Co. was also floated in Pietermaritzburg in 1886, and in 1887

set up a three-stamp battery alongside the Main Reef at the Natal Spruit. This venture

was subsequently enlarged to accommodate a ten-stamp battery. The Wolhuter Mine,

to the east of the Meyer & Charlton, was established by Frank M.Wolhuter and it was

still operating in 1924. Wolhuter hailed from a cottage in Pietermaritzburg (at the site

of today’s General Post Office). Thence, via a short financial career on the Kimberley

diamond fields, to the Witwatersrand. The Wolhuters were amongst the very first in-

habitants on the goldfields and were said to be popular hosts. Their home at the Natal

Camp was a meeting place of the leading personalities of the time.

Apart from these people, other (some possibly recognisable as Natalians) settled

residents of the original camp were: Mr William McCleod; the butcher Mr Malherbe;

C.G. Oosthuizen; Julius Jeppe; George Edward Fawcus; and John George Auret. Mrs

Charlton, Mrs McCleod and Mrs Wolhuter accompanied their husbands. In an early

tragedy the McCleod’s son was one of those who died in the camp, reportedly of the

prevalent ‘camp fever’ (typhus). Julius Jeppe (later Sir Julius) had joined his brother

Carl Jeppe and lived in a tent. They were the sons of the prominent Transvaler Julius

Jeppe Snr who died in 1893.

Carl Jeppe was subsequently to be the chairman of the Chamber of Mines. H. Griffin

(a representative of a Pietermaritzburg syndicate who later became Mayor of Pieterma-

rizburg) was elected by a camp committee to manage the camp affairs. Mr Alexander

William McIntyre, of the Meyer & Charlton Mine, was also a member of this Diggers’

Committee.

Other Natal people who had associations with the camp were George Hedley Murray,

Bussey (a hotelier, and of the Natal Syndicate), W.J. Scott and T. Yeo Sherwell. These

latter two lent their names to the Johannesburg suburb of Yeoville and to Scott Street in

Jeppestown. Miners from the Mfongozi goldfields who were to play prominent roles in

Johannesburg included Edward Button and H.B. Marshall. Carl Hanau was a director

of the Wolhuter Gold Mining Co. He became fabulously rich before descending into

poverty. Streets in Jeppestown carry the names of Hanau, Betty Jeppe, the surveyor

Auret Pritchard, Albrecht Jeppe, Julius Jeppe, and Thomas Maddison.

A Natalian soccer club was founded by messrs Ridgeway and Harvey.

Other concerned parties in the camp were Col. E.M.Greene from Natal and the very

prominent financier Sir Lionel Phillips. George Albu, who held significant control over

the rich Meyer & Charlton Mine, was a prominent person. He had come to the Witwa-

tersrand from Berlin, via a trade in diamonds at Kimberley. It was in later years that he

founded the powerful General Mining & Finance Corporation. Herman Eckstein (of

the Corner House mining giant) became in effect the owner of the Natal Camp’s City

& Suburban Mine, which had originally been owned by J.P. Meyer, H.B. Marshall and

others.

When the ZAR’s Mining Commissioner Carl von Brandis visited Johannesburg

during 1890, he was presented with a welcoming letter signed by 80 persons from the

Natal Camp area. By 1896 an estimated number of 10 000 for the population in the

Jeppestown and City & Suburban townships was to be published on the ‘Residents and

Strangers’ plan of Johannesburg. By 1893 there were reported to be over 400 buildings

in the vicinity of the Natal Camp.


Civic structures and authorities

The original Natal Camp consisted of a scattered collection of tents and rough houses,

the latter mostly built of sun-dried mud bricks (known as ‘green Kimberley’ bricks) with

thatched roofs. Amongst these houses were those of the Wolhuters (boasting a tennis

court) and Julius Jeppe, who had built during the dry Kimberley-like winter of 1886

with raw brick and thatch. His house subsequently collapsed when the rains came in

the summer of 1886-87. This lesson led subsequently to the lining of the bricks with

corrugated iron. Floors were of the wood from packing cases. Meyer and Marshall

occupied tents, Marshall’s being reed-fenced. There were also the Meyer & Charlton

Mine buildings — mine offices; the stamp battery; the amalgamator’s quarters; later

cyanide works; and the inclined shaft structure of the mine. The City & Suburban Mine

had a similar set of structures.

The Natal Camp was decidedly superior in character to Ferreira’s Camp over to the

west, which was populated by a somewhat rougher crowd from the mining world of

Kimberley. The Natal community was largely without its own businesses, or liquor and

entertainment outlets, such facilities being accessible about half-an-hour’s walk away,

at Ferreira’s Camp and in central Johannesburg. There was from the beginning a valu-

able suburban community spirit in the Natal Camp and it was noted that lonely, single

mineworkers were entertained in the houses of families. It was nevertheless said not to

be safe to walk around unarmed at night in the Natal Camp.

The first house built by the digger community at Johannesburg in about 1887 — was destroyed by the heavy rains of Dec. 1891. The house stood on the City and Suburban Township Lands. (From a painting by the late J.W. George. George was in South Africa by the time of the diamond rush. Two of his paintings, ‘Sorting and washing diamonds at Pniel, 1870’ and ‘The beginning of the Kimberley mine, 1871’ were reproduced in the 1970s for the South African Permanent Building Society’s calendars, as were three Transvaal scenes, viz. Two of the Magaliesberg area (c. 1890) and a work depicting the cottage where Dr L.S. Jameson and his officers were incarcerated in 1896.) From the Thomas O’Byrne collection.


Authority in the Natal Camp was originally given to an elected Committee of Diggers

pending the appointment of an official ‘Sanitary Board’. This latter had the authority to

lay down rules such as those forbidding thatched roofs, the emptying of slop water into

the streets; the riding of bicycles at speeds exceeding 6 mph, the driving of carts, carriages

and wagons in a ‘furious’ manner, etc. Property rates were set at 1% of valuations.

By 1890 the Jeppestown suburb had been established across the area of the camp,

providing all facilities necessary to serve the mines of the eastern region. e.g. the Grand

Station Hotel in Main Street, incorporating Norman’s Grill which was still a well-known

restaurant until the mid 20th Century. McIntyre Street ran down from Jeppestown to

the Meyer & Charlton Mine area.

The Johannesburg suburb of Wolhuter was established adjacent to the Natal Camp

(and Jeppestown) during 1895, and by 1898 a horse-tram (and later electric) service

ran between Market Square in Johannesburg and a terminus at Wolhuter. This form of

transport earned a Johannesburg music-hall commendation:

Ag this is the place for me, Jannisburg

Where the likerish lights always shine,

And the ricky-tickey trams run by Jeppe

And the mine hooters tells me the time.

Despite recommendations during 1962 for the urban renewal of the area, the buildings

lining the streets of Jeppestown are now (2007) somewhat derelict, but are nevertheless

the oldest extant commercial premises in Johannesburg. These shops and other facili-

ties served the needs of the Natal miners and also of the upper-class households being

established to the east beyond the railway line.

The route of the original local railway (known as the Rand Tram) through Jeppestown

was established in 1890 to carry coal from deposits near Boksburg to a coalyard for

the mines at Jeppestown. Main Street in Jeppestown subsequently crossed this railway

line via a subway.

The whole of the Natal Camp area was declared to be a mining-freehold area, over

the Doornfontein Mijnpacht owned by F.J.Bezuidenhout, the Bezuidenhout family hav-

ing owned the farm Doornfontein since the early 1850s. This farm became the whole

eastern side of early Johannesburg.

In later years, when the City & Suburban suburb streets were laid out around the

Natal Camp, the upper part of the Camp area was declared to be a public park named the

Portplein (also known as C&S Square), fenced as part of the City & Suburban township

in 1895. It has since been built over. John Charlton was instrumental in establishing

this township after 1889. The present City & Suburban industrial stands were not added

until 1929. Another park, Gilfillan, was established below the railway line, above the

Wolhuter Mine, apparently on the site of Wolhuter’s original house and tennis court. At

the lower end of the central park a dam was built across the Natal Spruit.

With the location and nature of the urban stands, the gold deposits were becoming

refractory with depth and were judged to be tightly and irretrievably bound into pyrites.

Thus it was deemed that there was no assurance that they could be payably mined for

longer than about another five years. Consequently the stands and streets were designed

to be temporary and economically small, and little provision was made for public space.

This latter lack was soon rectified by the residents who fenced off an area to become


the Portplein referred to above. There was also an open area to the west of the camp,

adjacent to Greene Street (named after Edward Mackenzie Greene of Pietermaritzburg,

later to be the Minister of Railways and Harbours) which was used for such excitements

as sports, balloon flights and visits by a circus.

Horse racing had since the 1850s been important in Pietermaritzburg life and it was

not surprising that a race course was set up in the Natal Camp, complete with a small

grandstand, near the Wolhuters’ tennis court. This was up towards the railway line,

where a small park was subsequently included in the layout of the Jeppestown suburb.

A Pietermaritzburg man Alexander William McIntyre of the Diggers’ Committee was

prominent in this racing venture and it is recorded that a Dr Rosenthal organised a race

and sports meeting here during late 1886. This Natal-inspired racing initiative was later

moved to its current location at Turffontein.

What of the view from far-off Pietermaritzburg? People thought of all those ‘tin

shacks with golden cellars’, and of the facilities where small armies of labourers were

housed and fed in rough compounds, where mining was hard, debilitating and danger-

ous. The poet William Plomer wrote:

Perhaps it was a fall of rock. Two miners trapped

Up to the waist in dirty water. All the care

That went to keep them fit!

Concrete bathrooms and carbolic soap

A balanced diet and free hospitals

Made them efficient, but they die alone,

Half stunned, then drowned.

They might have lived on in the sun

With miner’s phthisis, silicosis

A gradual petrifaction of the lungs.

Mining methods

Outcrop mining of the reef at the Meyer & Charlton and the City & Suburban Mines

was initially accomplished by means of shallow trenching along the outcrops of the

reef, but by 1887 inclined shafts were being driven down southwards into the sloping

plane of the reef and the reef ore was being scooped out (‘stoped’) from either side,

to the east and west of the shaft, and lifted to the surface by manual winching from a

platform. By the end of 1886 the Meyer & Charlton shaft had reached down 20 metres,

and by the end of 1887 had reached some 200 metres. But as the reefs continued to dip

away beyond these depths it became impractical to follow them in this way, and deep

vertical shafts were commenced a kilometre or two to the south, such that the Natal

Camp mines spawned the vast City Deep deep-mining complex. Expensive machinery,

the fact that any actual gold recovery had to await the completion of the shafts, and

the costs of processing the refractory ores obtained at these depths, demanded large

capital investment. This effectively removed the roles of the modest mining companies

of Pietermaritzburg into the hands of the amalgamating giants which were emerging

in Johannesburg. The financier George Albu had a hand in initiating these expansive

ventures when the City & Suburban Mine achieved an early distinction by installing

a fifty-stamp ore-crushing battery. This was necessary because, in order to extract the


gold, the ore first had to be crushed into a very fine powder. In the early days of the

Natal Camp, and until the ores at depth became refractory, the affinity of mercury for

gold was effectively used to lift the ore out of the crushings.

At the outbreak of the Second Anglo-Boer War of 1899–1902, the Meyer & Charlton

and City & Suburban Mines were not among those few mines which the Boers allowed

to continue production, probably because they were suspected of having Natalian, im-

perialist sympathies. They were not even allowed to prevent the inevitable destructive

flooding of their workings. When on 31 May 1900 General Lord Roberts led the central

column of his conqering army through from Elandsfontein (Germiston) into Johannes-

burg, they passed a dismally empty Natal Camp. The mines had closed, the population

had fled, and gold production had dropped to 2% of pre-war levels. Nevertheless they

were able to reopen after the war, with a champagne bottle broken against the stamp

batteries and an address by Sir George Albu.

REFERENCES

Bulpin, T.V., Lost trails of the Transvaal (Cape Town, 1966).

Bulpin, T.V., Natal and the Zulu country (Cape Town, 1966).

Cammack, D., The Rand at war ( Pietermaritzburg, 1990).

Diagram of Water Rights — Natal Spruit, in E. & J. Grey Discovery of the Witwatersrand Goldfields

(1940).

Gardiner, N., ‘Natal’s century-old gold rush’, Daily News, 15 October 1968.

Leyds, G. A., A history of Johannesburg (Nasionale Boekhandel, 1964).

McLea, J.H., A sketch of the Natal Camp by a Lady Pioneer, supplemented by a sketch by Mr John Hunter

McLea.

1886 — Surface workings on the reef. (From the photograph album of Max Nicholls.)


Melville, E.H.V., ‘General plan of the central and east portions of the Witwatersrand’, in F.H. Hatch and

J.A. Chalmers The gold mines of the Rand (London,1895).

Natal. Colony, Mines, Commissioner of, Annual reports, 1888–1900.

Residents’ and Strangers’ friend group, Map of Johannesburg in 1896.

Robertson, C., Remembering old Johannesburg (Johannesburg,1986).

Rosenthal, Eric, On ‘Change through the years (Johannesburg, 1968).

Rosenthal, Eric, The Rand Rush (Johannesburg, 1974).

Sauer, Hans, Ex Africa, (London,1937).

Shorten, J.R., The Johannesburg saga (Johannesburg, 1970).

Smith, A. H., Johannesburg street names (Johannesburg).

South Africa. Union, Map of the Witwatersrand gold fields,1910–1915.

Tompkins’ plan of Johannesburg and southern suburbs, 1890.

Vaughan, J.E., ‘Mines and minerals of the Natal Province’, in A century of progress in Natal (Pietermaritzburg, 1924).

Wilks, T., For the love of Natal (Durban, 1977).

Witwatersrand University. Geology department, Geological map of Johannesburg, 1965.

Zeederberg, H., Down Memory Lane (Archivist Publishing Co., 1971).

K.N. GREGGOR

1886 — One of the first pithead gears on the reef. (From the photograph album of Max Nicholls.)

34 Scouting in Pietermaritzburg 1908 to 2007

Natalia 36–37 (2007), Graham Harrison pp. 34 –41

Scouting in Pietermaritzburg 1908 to 2007

In May 1900, the name Baden-Powell became a household word in England. The little-

known but resourceful British soldier became a national hero overnight for using his

military skill, imagination and bluff to hold Mafeking (now Mafi keng), an obscure town

in the northern part of the Cape Colony, with no natural defences, against an enemy force

nearly fi ve times as large as his. Just before the siege began, he posted the corrected

proofs of his little military handbook Aids to Scouting to his publishers, who, when the

news of the relief of Mafeking reached Britain, found they had a potential best-seller

on their hands.

During the seven-month siege, and

with the intention of strengthening

his perimeter defences by using all

available soldiers, he decided to use

boy volunteers as clerks, orderlies and

messengers. He was impressed by their

willingness to accept responsibility, and

by the way they carried out their rather

mundane duties, as if they realised that

the defence of the town rested partly on

their shoulders.

On his return to Britain after the

Anglo-Boer War, he learned that Aids to Scouting was being used not only

by the military but also in schools as a

method of training boys in observation

and deduction. He also met Sir William

Smith, the founder of the Boys’ Brigade,

the units of which were affi liated to

churches and religious organisations

The cover of the fi rst of six fortnightly parts of Scouting for Boys.


35Scouting in Pietermaritzburg 1908 to 2007

and used a smart uniform, brass bands, drill and Bible study to retain members. Baden-

Powell felt that some of his scouting practices might prove an additional attraction for

boys, and a more colourful means of training than the Brigade already provided. At Sir

William’s suggestion he set down on paper his ideas of how scouting could be adapted

to the use of boys, intending to provide an additional, not an alternative, way of training

for existing boy organisations.

The outcome of this was the writing and publication of Scouting for Boys, which ap-

peared in 1908 in six fortnightly parts, each costing fourpence, to keep the book within

the financial reach of boys. This book was aimed not at soldiers but at boys. It dealt with

outdoor subjects like camping, pioneering, woodcraft, observation, tracking and stalk-

ing, as well as physical health, saving-life, self-discipline, citizenship and patriotism.

Baden-Powell was the first man to suggest that boys could and would enjoy activities

which, up till then, had been the exclusive preserve of the soldier, although the boy

would use them for peaceful enjoyment. Eschewing the easier path of the negative,

largely followed by the religious authorities of the day, he drew up the Scout Law, a

ten (originally nine) point positive code of conduct for the boy to live by:

1. A Scout’s honour is to be trusted.2. A Scout is loyal to the King, and to his officers, and to his country, and to his

employers.3. A Scout’s duty is to be useful and to help others.

1st Pietermaritzburg Scout Group. The first scout camp was held during Easter 1910 at Zwartkop, near Blackridge. The troop was started in October 1909 by Mr Job Brookes whose

son, Edgar, a member of this troop, was later to become a Senator, Professor of History at the University of Natal, and author. He is possibly the child on the right. (From Victorian and

Edwardian Natal by Jennifer and Alistair Verbeek, Shuter & Shooter, Pietermaritzburg, 1982.)


4. A Scout is a friend to all, and a brother to every other Scout, no matter to what social class the other belongs.

5. A Scout is courteous.6. A Scout is a friend to animals.7. A Scout obeys orders of his patrol leader or scout master without question.8. A Scout smiles and whistles under all circumstances.9. A Scout is thrifty.10. A Scout is clean in thought, word and deed.No-one (either boy or adult) could or can become a Scout without taking the Scout

Promise:

On my honour, I promise that I will do my best – To do my duty to God, and the King*. To help other people at all times. To obey the Scout Law.It is not easy to live up to this promise, but the phrase do my best keeps it within

the boy’s ability, and Baden-Powell was quick to point out to his young readers that

everyone could do his best, and no-one could do more.

But before venturing into publication, Baden-Powell felt he should try out his ideas

in practice, to see how boys would respond. He wanted a private wooded area away

from the public view and the constant attentions of newspaper reporters, and found it

on Brownsea Island in Poole Harbour, Dorset. He obtained permission from the owner,

whom he had met socially, to use the island for an eight-day camp for 20 boys during

August 1907. He deliberately selected boys from a wide spectrum: some were sons of

his friends, some were pupils at public schools, and the rest were members of the Boys’

Brigade in Poole and Bournemouth, attending local schools. While Baden-Powell, as-

sisted by two adult friends, was in charge of activities, logistics and supplies, the boys

were placed in small groups under boy leaders, each of whom was responsible for,

and led, his particular team. (This is now known as the patrol system.) While the boys

were settling in on the first day, Baden-Powell gave the leaders special instructions, so

that they would be a step ahead of the other boys in their groups. Thereafter, he would

introduce a new skill, demonstrate its use, and then lead the boys in games and contests

to practise the skill. In this way all the subjects dealt with in Scouting for Boys were

covered, while in the evenings he would lead songs round the campfire, and tell them

stories of his adventures. On the last day of camp parents were invited to observe the

skills their sons had learned during the camp, and Baden-Powell was convinced that

his ideas would work in practice.

The public reception of Scouting for Boys was startling. Boys who bought and read

the fortnightly parts began to form scout patrols, with or without adult help, and it be-

came clear to Baden-Powell that a new boys’ movement was forming before his very

eyes. It seemed that boys of all classes wanted to be members of a movement inspired

by the hero of Mafeking. Lord Haldane, the Secretary of State for War, Baden-Powell’s

political boss, and King Edward VII both saw the value of a movement for boys using

the methods advocated by Baden-Powell, namely trust, responsibility, preparedness, and

a positive code of conduct, and urged him to make it his prime objective. He resigned

(*The exact wording will obviously vary in different countries and religious traditions.)


from the army and proceeded to

place his fledgling movement on

a businesslike footing. He rented

offices in Henrietta Street, London,

and engaged a skeleton secretarial

and administrative staff. He took

all decisions himself and solved

problems as they presented them-

selves. Support, personal, moral

and financial, came flowing in from

well-wishers in all classes of soci-

ety. The first Scout census, taken in

1910, revealed 109 000 scouts in the

United Kingdom. The movement

quickly spread, first to the British

Dominions (Canada, South Africa,

Australia and New Zealand), and

then to other countries, of which

Chile, in South America, was the

first, beating the Unites States by

a full year.

The story of how a scout’s good

turn enabled scouting to reach the

United States must have warmed

Baden-Powell’s heart. An American

businessman named William Boyce

was visiting London, and became

enveloped in one of the pea-soup fogs for which the city was notorious. He asked a

small boy for help, and the boy took him through the fog to the address he was seeking.

When he offered a tip, the boy refused, saying that a scout didn’t accept a reward for

doing a good turn. The astonished Boyce had never heard of Boy Scouts, and determined

to find out more of this unusual organisation. He obtained copies of pamphlets and of

Scouting for Boys, taking them back to America with him. He found other men who

had heard of the movement, and together they founded the Boy Scouts of America in

1910. Sixteen years later, the Boy Scouts of America presented a bronze statuette of an

American bison to the British Boy Scouts, with a plaque reading:

‘To the unknown scout whose faithfulness in the performance of his daily good turn to William D. Boyce in 1909 brought the Boy Scout Movement to the United States of America.’

To accommodate smaller boys, who were too young to fit into the scout programme,

Baden-Powell devised the Wolf Cub programme in 1916, using Rudyard Kipling’s

Jungle Book as a background and, in 1918, the Rover Scouts were formed, designed

for young men aged 18 years and over, but using the same methods and following the

same aims. To accommodate girls, the Girl Guide Movement was founded in 1910, with

Baden-Powell’s sister Agnes as its leader. On Baden-Powell’s marriage in 1912, Lady

Baden-Powell became Chief Guide, a position she held until her death in 1977.

King Edward VII attended a rally of 30 000 Scouts in Windsor Great Park on 4th July 1911, and the event captured the imagination of the British public. This

picture appeared in Punch shortly afterwards.


The first Scout Troop in South Africa was formed in Cape Town in March 1908; the

1st Pietermaritzburg Troop, which still meets in its own headquarters in Adrian Road

in Prestbury, a suburb of Pietermaritzburg, followed later that year. This was followed,

within the next few years, by the 4th Pietermaritzburg Troop, attached to St Peter’s

Anglican Church, the 5th Pietermaritzburg Troop, attached to the Boshoff Street Meth-

odist Church, and the 6th Pietermaritzburg Troop, attached to St Saviour’s Anglican

Cathedral. The original 2nd and 3rd Troops did not last more than a few years, and no

details are available. About this time, the Mayor of Pietermaritzburg, Daniel Sanders,

was the District Commissioner of the local scout district.

In 1916, the Natal University College established a department of History, and the first

lecturer (later Professor) was Alan F. Hattersley, a former Senior Scholar of Downing

College and a graduate of Cambridge University with first class honours. He had become

interested in the Scout movement while at Cambridge, and had been scoutmaster of

two scout troops in the town. On leaving Cambridge, he became District Commissioner

of Enfield, where he received the highest Scouting decoration, the Silver Wolf, from

Baden-Powell himself. On his arrival in Pietermaritzburg he took over leadership of

the 6th Troop, and about a year later became District Commissioner, starting a Patrol

Leaders’ Parliament, where on one Saturday a month patrol leaders of all troops met

in the Presbyterian Church Hall to discuss subjects of interest to them. He also kindled

in the mind of a local businessman, Mr H. V. Marsh, such an interest in the movement,

that he travelled to England to be a participant in one of the first Scoutmaster Training

Courses run at Gilwell Park, the now famous scout camping ground adjoining Epping

Forest, donated to the movement in 1919 by Mr W de Bois Maclaren, a Scout Com-

missioner in Scotland.

Returning to South Africa full of enthusiasm, Marsh was appointed Natal’s first Deputy

Camp Chief (a scouter in charge of training scoutmasters), and immediately set aside

four acres (1.6 hectares) of his extensive property on the Town Hill for use as a scout

camping ground and training camp, named Lexden Scout Camp, after his home village

near Colchester in Essex. This land proved an immediate boost to local scout troops,

who could now go camping without the need to find a friendly farmer willing to have

scouts camping on his land. As the city’s sewerage and water-reticulation systems did

not, in 1920, extend to the top of the Town Hill, the first need was for pit-latrines and a

water-supply. The first were easily dug, covered with a corrugated-iron structure, and

were in use until the municipal sewerage reticulation reached Lexden 50 years later. A

borehole was drilled, a pump obtained, powered by a diesel engine and protected from

the weather by a corrugated-iron shed, which also served as an equipment- and tent-

store. Lexden used the water from this borehole until piped municipal water reached

the Town Hill in 1930.

The Rover Scouts took up the challenge of developing the campsite. At midday on

Saturdays (this was before the five-day working week) the Rover Scouts would ride the

tram to its terminus at the Showgrounds, hike up Howick Road with all their camping

gear in their rucksacks, and work on levelling the grounds and building camp-kitchens

during the week-end. On Sunday afternoons they would hike down the same road to

catch the six o’clock tram back to town. Their devotion was a fine example of the

Rover Scout motto in action — Service. In addition to affording a place for boys to

camp, Lexden provided a base for the training of scouters, for both the Cub and Scout


sections. About 1934, Marsh

negotiated with the municipality

for the lease of a further eight

acres (3,3 hectares) adjacent to

Lexden’s northern boundary at a

rental of one shilling per annum,

which made for a more exten-

sive camping ground. That same

year the Pietermaritzburg Rotary

Club paid for the erection of

the brick hall which still stands

by the gate into Hosking Road,

and looks good for another 70

years’ service to the movement.

It enables activities to continue

in the evening, provides emer-

gency accommodation for cubs

(who are not permitted to sleep

in tents when it rains), and has

proved an invaluable acquisi-

tion, as the Scout movement

could not, at that time, have

funded the structure.

In 1937 Marsh formally do-

nated and transferred the origi-

nal four acres to a body called The Lexden Trust, established to hold the property in

perpetuity for use by the Scout Movement or other youth movements. In 1940 the

Municipality scrapped the old lease agreement, and donated the additional eight acres to

the Scout movement, subject to a condition that should the land not be used for scouting

purposes it would revert to the municipality. This camping ground is, in the writer’s

opinion, the finest Scout camping ground in South Africa.

In 1921 the four troops mentioned above were joined by a new troop, given the name

Scoutholm and the number 3, and meeting in the new suburb of Scottsville. Professor

Hattersley was its first scoutmaster, having relinquished the leadership of the 6th Troop,

owing to the refusal of the cathedral authorities to allow boys to join the troop who were

not members of the St Saviour’s congregation.

In 1928 the movement adopted the group system as a policy, thus officially encourag-

ing Wolf Cub packs to link up with Scout troops, to ensure that each boy was provided

with continuous training from 8 to 18 years. Unlike most other centres, the majority of

cubmasters in Pietermaritzburg were male, though there were a few exceptions, fortu-

nately for the survival of the Wolf Cubs of Pietermaritzburg. The departure of young

scouters on active service during the Second World War caused the closure of several

troops, and the war’s end saw only two of them still functioning — the 3rd Troop led by

Alan Hattersley, and the 5th Troop led by Cyril Friggens, assisted by Arthur Pipes. The

Wolf Cub packs might well have suffered the same fate had it not been for Miss Florence

Parker, the cubmaster of the 6th Pack, who took under her wing the 1st, 3rd, 4th, and 5th

Baden-Powell was a talented artist, illustrating his own books with line drawings. In his last years, living in Kenya, he did some oil paintings of African wildlife, which can be seen in the British Scout headquarters at Gilwell Park, Essex. This sketch from Scouting for Boys shows his skill in pen-and-ink sketching, and also illustrates his vision of a very important element of Scouting — outdoor adventure.


Packs, the cubmasters of which were all serving in the armed forces. This indomitable

little lady, who by day served in the millinery section of John Orr’s department store,

made the survival of the Pietermaritzburg Wolf Cub packs her contribution to the war

effort, and ran a pack meeting every night of the week from Monday to Friday.

The return of the men from active service saw the 1st, 4th, and 6th Troops resus-

citated, and two new Groups, the 9th and the 7th were started, both in the Scottsville

area, followed a few years later by the 11th, using Lexden hall as its base. Some years

later the 4th Group built its own hall in the Pelham area, leaving no groups meeting in

the centre of town. As the movement reaches its centenary year only four groups are

still functioning: the 1st, the 3rd, the 4th, all with Scout troops and Cub packs, and the

11th, with a Cub pack only.

Commencing in the 1970s the Patrol Leader Training Unit, headed by Dudley Forde,

has run week-long training camps for Patrol Leaders at Lexden Scout Camp. Hundreds

of boys have attended these courses, where they have been challenged by an enthusiastic

training staff to attempt new projects and to hone their leadership skills. After an exciting

and exhausting week they have returned home looking at scouting in a different light.

Until 1977 there had existed, side by side, four parallel Scout associations for whites,

coloureds, Indians and Africans. These had been tolerated (though not encouraged) by

the Nationalist Government, who preferred the Voortrekker Youth Movement, founded

in the nineteen-twenties or -thirties for political reasons. In that momentous year the

leaders of the four parallel associations, led by Colin Inglis, at that time Chief Scout

of South Africa, (and who was a former scout and Scoutmaster of the 3rd Maritzburg

Troop), decided that such separation was contrary to the spirit of scouting, and formed

a single Scout Association to which all scouts belonged. Despite expected fears of a

crackdown, there was no response from the government.

In 1999, following the trend in several other countries, the South African Boy Scout

Association decided to open the movement to girls, and the word ‘Boy’ therefore disap-

peared from its name.

To revert to Baden-Powell, the founder of the first worldwide movements for boys:

knighted by King Edward VII in 1909, he travelled the world to encourage the boys who

had joined his movement. At the first World Scout Jamboree in 1920 he was acclaimed

Chief Scout of the World, a title given to no other man. In 1921 he was created a baronet

by King George V, and in 1929 raised to the peerage as Lord Baden-Powell of Gilwell.

In 1936 he and Lady Baden-Powell made the first radio broadcast from the World’s View

radio station overlooking Pietermaritzburg. At the age of 80 he was made a member of

the Order of Merit by King George VI, and started spending the northern winter months

in Kenya, where he and Lady Baden-Powell made their home in 1939, shortly before

the outbreak of war. He died there in 1941, and his funeral was attended by members of

the South African armed forces then serving in East Africa. Among their number was

Rover Scout Jack Withey, the eldest of three scouting brothers who were members of

the 1st Pietermaritzburg Rover Scout crew. Jack later became district commissioner for

Pietermaritzburg, and subsequently commissioner for the whole of Natal.

Though there are still Scouts and Cub Scouts (the latter no longer known as Wolf Cubs)

in Pietermaritzburg, the movement now does not have the same support or prominence

in the city that it once had, especially in the middle years of the 20th century. This is not

surprising, considering that the city itself is so much larger and its life more complex


than in the past. Then, too, there has been a huge increase in the number of organisa-

tions and activities competing for young people’s attention. Nevertheless scouting here

continues to provide a significant life foundation for those who give their time and

loyalty to it. Former scouts from this city have made their mark in many spheres, and

often gratefully acknowledge the influence that scouting had on them, not only in the

useful skills it taught them (especially that of leadership), but also the positive values

and attitudes. The most recent former Pietermaritzburg scout to make the headlines is

André Bredenkamp, the first South African to make an Everest ascent from both the

North and the South routes, and also to scale the so-called ‘Seven Summits’, the highest

peaks on each of the continents.

GRAHAM HARRISON

Note. Readers wishing to know more about the present state of the Scout movement in South

Africa may wish to read ‘Scouting About’, the SA Scout Association’s newsletter at www.

scouting.org.za/scoutingabout/

Acknowledgments: While most of the content of this article comes from my 60 years as a member

of the Scout movement in Pietermaritzburg, its writing and completion would not have been

possible without the encouragement and help of John Deane, a fellow scout, whose friendship I

have enjoyed for over fifty years.

42 Shield, Symbolism and Identity

Natalia 36–37 (2007), Adrian Koopman pp. 42–68

Shield, Symbolism and Identity: Post-colonial Heraldry in

KwaZulu-Natal

Introduction

In the days of chivalry, mediaeval knights riding to battle or jousting at tourneys

were covered from head to toe in armour, and with the visor on their helms shut, it

was impossible to identify the knight-within, so to speak. For this reason the knight’s

cloak, worn outside his armour, the cloth worn outside the horse’s armour, and later,

the knight’s shield as well, were decorated with easy-to-recognise brightly-coloured

patterns and devices: crosses, circles, stars. Many knights also wore distinctive crests

on their helmets. Over the years, as these symbols of identity proliferated, they became

formalised and codified. The shield became the main carrier of the various symbols

and images, and together with helmet and crest, and various other bits and pieces — all

described below — these became known collectively as a ‘Coat-of-Arms’ or ‘Armorial

Bearings’. When the Age of Chivalry ended, and knights no longer rode to joust in

tourneys, or to defeat the infidel at the gates of Jerusalem, the coats-of-arms, still in, on

and around their shields, remained. They became the identifying symbols, not only of

aristocratic families, but of institutions. Countries and provinces, cities and boroughs,

guilds of tradesmen and other corporations, universities and schools, all used coats-of-

arms, which were normally registered.

Identity has become an enormously important issue in the post-colonial era, and

especially so in Africa, where for so long it has become a given that colonial settlers

stripped the local inhabitants of their identity and replaced it with a quasi-European

identity. Much has been written of how Christianity replaced local religions, of how

local naming systems were replaced by European systems, how political, economic and

social systems were perverted and reformed into variations of European systems. The

African Renaissance, emphasised by South African president Thabo Mbeki over the

last decade, is an attempt to bring back a sense of African identity.

There are two interlinked issues here:

Firstly, is it possible, or even desirable, to bring back the identity of ‘The African’ as

it was before colonial times?


43Post-colonial Heraldry in KwaZulu-Natal

Secondly, is it possible, or even desirable, to discard completely all of the legacy of

colonialism?

These are issues hotly debated in Africa, and particularly in South Africa today. The

furore, as I write (May 2007) over the changing of street names in Durban is a case in

point. There are those who argue that they must remain, as they are part of the legacy

and the heritage of Durban. And there are those that argue, yes, precisely, they are the

legacy and heritage of colonial Durban, and as we are no longer a colony, they must

go. Here naming, heritage and identity go hand-in-hand.

It is with these issues in mind that I wish to examine the use of heraldic coats-of-arms

in KwaZulu-Natal today, and to do so within a general framework of post-colonialism

in Africa. So although the emphasis will be on the coats-of-arms adopted as visual

identities by KZN’s various municipal authorities, I will also look — briefly — at the

arms adopted by various African countries on independence, and at South Africa’s new

coat-of-arms.

We will need to look briefly at the new entities which need new identities — mainly

the district municipalities — and we will also need a brief introduction to the principles

of armorial bearings: the arms themselves and their various parts: shield, parts of the

shield, the helm, the crest, the mantling, the supporters, etc., the language of heraldry

(‘ .. in chief, a lion passant guardant or, langued gules, …’), the rules of heraldry, and

typical and standard icons used in heraldry.

With these in mind, we can see how this aspect of colonial legacy has been retained

as part of modern identities, albeit in a much adapted form.

Sources

The coats-of-arms described and analysed in this article were derived from three main

sources:

Most came from websites. The majority of the local and district municipalities in KZN

have functioning websites, and most of these place the coat-of-arms or other identify-

ing logo on the home page. In a few cases this was too small to identify the separate

elements (e.g. aMajuba Municipality, Greater Kokstad Municipality); in other cases a

whole page was devoted to the coat-of-arms, with a detailed explanation of the elements

(e.g. KwaZulu-Natal Provincial website, Zululand District Municipality).

Some came from the pages of local newspapers, from large half or full page colour

advertisements with an uplifting message from the mayor of this or that municipality, to

smaller single column black-and-white advertisements in the classified sections calling

for municipal tenders and the like.

A few came from personal visits to municipalities, where the coats-of-arms were

found, and photographed, on municipal buildings and vehicles.

Approaches to provincial government officials came to naught, so the number of

coats-of-arms described in this article is probably not the complete number. However,

I believe it is a sufficient representation to give a general picture of contemporary her-

aldry in KwaZulu-Natal. The coats-of-arms of nine African countries have been added

to give some sort of wider African perspective, those of one or two KZN cities, and

those of the erstwhile Universities of Natal and Durban-Westville and the logo of their

offspring, the University of KwaZulu-Natal.


The Colonial counties of Natal, and today’s equivalents: the District municipalities

The map provided with Russell’s 1911 Natal – The Land and its Story [see map 1],

gives the counties of Natal at the time:

Klip River, divided into Newcastle and Klip River (Ladysmith area), Weenen, Umvoti, Victoria, Durban, Alexandra, Alfred, and Pietermaritzburg County. Pietermaritzburg was

divided into Ixopo (by far the largest portion), Lion’s River, and Pietermaritzburg.

To the north of the Tugela River1 was the completely separate entity named Zulu-

land.

Map 1: The Counties of Colonial Natal (after Russell, 1911)

1I use the old spelling here, instead of the modern correct uThukela, as we are referring to a colonial map of 1911.

The SA Constitution of 1996 defines three different categories of local government

authority. These categories are described more fully in subsequent legislation as met-

ropolitan, local and district municipalities. Metropolitan municipalities are essentially

large economic conurbations, and in their geographic areas each ‘Metro’ is the only

local government authority. In KwaZulu-Natal, eThekweni municipality (greater Durban

including Umhlanga, Pinetown and Amanzimtoti) is the sole Metro.


Many people find the concepts of district and local municipalities confusing because

they seem to be describing exactly the same entities under different names. Local

municipalities cover the geographic areas of traditional towns or cities, while districts

cover much bigger geographic areas and include anywhere between four and eight or

nine different local municipalities. Districts do not have any executive or oversight

powers over local municipalities, but they do have a primary responsibility to provide

for the bulk distribution of water and electricity services. In only one respect is there a

clear distinction between the powers of the different categories. Metros and local mu-

nicipalities have the power to levy property rates, districts do not (Municipal Property

Rates Act, Section 2)2.

Since 1999, KwaZulu-Natal has been divided into 11 District Municipalities, each

itself divided into smaller units. These are, reading from North to South, and left to

right (see Map 2):

Amajuba District Municipality, divided into Newcastle, Dannhauser and Utrecht;

Zululand District Municipality, divided into eDumbe, uPhongolo, Abaqulusi, Ulundi

and Nongoma;

Umkhanyakude District Municipality, divided into Jozini, uMhlabayalingana, The

Big 5 False Bay, Hlabisa and Mtubatuba;

2 I am indebted to mSunduzi Municipal Councillor Mark Steele for this information.

Map 2: Local and District Municipalities since 1999 (map by Koopman, A 2007)


uThukela District Municipality, divided into eMnambithi/Ladysmith, oKhahlamba,

iNdaka, uMtshezi and iMbabazane;

uMzinyathi District Municipality, divided into eNdumeni, Nquthu, Msinga, and

uMvoti;

uThungulu District Municipality, divided into Nkandla, eMthonjaneni, Ntambanana,

Mbonambi, uMhlathuze and uMlalazi;

uMgungundlovu District Municipality, divided into Mooi Mpofana, iMpendle, uMn-

geni, uMshwathi, The Msunduzi [sic], Richmond and eMkhambathini;

iLembe District Municipality, divided into Maphumulo, eNdondakusuka, Ndwedwe

and KwaDukuza;

eThekwini Metro;

Sisonke District Municipality, divided into kwaSani, Matatiele, Greater Kokstad,

Ingwe, and uBuhlebezwe; and

Ugu District Municipality, divided into Vulamehlo, uMdoni, uMzumbe, uMuziwa-

bantu, eZinqoleni, and Hibiscus Coast.

Heraldic Language

When armorial bearings are granted to an institution by a College or Arms (in South

Africa the Bureau of Heraldry), the arms are accompanied by an official description

in the esoteric language of heraldry. This description is known as a ‘blazon’, and there

is a related verb ‘to blazon’. There is no space in this article to describe fully heraldic

language, but just as an example, the following is the official blazon of the arms of

KwaZulu-Natal (Fig. 28), with an explanation following:

Arms: Argent, a fess dancetty Vert, in base, within a bordure dovetailed of the last, a Strelitzia flower proper, on a chief dancetty Azure, filletted of the first, a mullet Argent. The shield is ensigned of a headring Or, thereupon a Zulu hut proper. Behind the shield a spear and knobkerrie in saltire proper.

Supporters: On a compartment Vert, the lower edge Or, dexter a lion and sinister a black wildebeest proper.

Motto: MASISUKUME SAKHE

Explanation:

Arms: Argent = silver = white, the main colour of the shield, mentioned first. A ‘fess

dancetty’ is a zigzag band and ‘Vert’ is green. In the ‘base’ (lower part of the shield),

within a border where green and white (‘of the last’ means ‘last colour mentioned’) are

dovetailed, is a Streliztia in its natural colours (‘proper’). On a chief Azure dancetty

(in the top part of the shield, blue, with a zigzag edge) ‘filletted’ (edged) in white (‘the

first’) is a white star (‘a mullet Argent’). The shield is ‘ensigned’ (topped, crowned) with

a yellow headring (‘Or’ = gold, yellow). On top of that we find a Zulu hut in natural

colours. Behind the shield a spear and a knobkerrie in natural colours are crossed (‘in

saltire’).

Supporters: on a green base stand a lion on the right and a black wildebeest on the left,

both in natural colours.

The motto MASISUKUME SAKHE means ‘Let us stand up and build’.


The structure of a Coat-of-Arms

The component parts of a coat-of-arms (see Fig.1.a) are listed below, and are briefly

discussed as to their function in traditional heraldry, and the way they manifest in

contemporary (post-colonial) African heraldry.

The Shield

The shield lies in the centre of the group of component which make up a complete

coat-of-arms, and is important for two reasons:

Firstly, because it is the one essential item in a coat-of-arms. There are coats-of-arms

without all the other components listed below, i.e just a shield on its own, but there are

no coats-of-arms without a shield.3

Fig. 1.a

3Having said that, I must add that in the coats-of-arms of Angola, Mozambique and Madagascar, the shield itself appears to be missing. That is to say, there is no obvious outline of a shield, but merely a space filled with the kinds of symbolic devices which would normally fill a shield.


Secondly, it is the main space where symbolic elements — ‘charges’ — are placed,

and so contains the core of the projected identity.

Boutell (1970:19) gives four different forms of shield used in heraldry (see Fig 1.b)

of which shape (b) is used most commonly. Many of the coats-of-arms described in

this article use this shape.

Fig. 1.b Different shield forms used in heraldry. After Boutell (1970:19)

According to Boutell (op cit:240) the arms assigned to Tanganyika in 1961 created

a precedent for the use of a ‘native shield’. i.e the shape of the Zulu shield that South

Africans are accustomed to seeing in tourist brochures. (See Tanganyika arms in Fig. 2,

and their modern equivalent — those of Tanzania — in Fig. 3). Most of the coats-of-arms

of the KZN municipalities use the ‘native shield’. Henceforth to be referred to as the

‘Zulu shield’. Lesotho (see Fig. 8) uses a very individually shaped shield, referred to in

the blazon as ‘a Basutho shield’. Swaziland has solved the problem of which shape of

shield to use by using the traditional heraldic shield, and having upon it as sole charge

a Zulu shield (see Fig. 9).

The shield remains the most pervasive relic, not just of the colonial era, but of the

mediaeval era of chivalry. Even when an institution, previously identified by full coats-

of-arms, decides to abandon this type of iconic identity and go for the simpler, more

modern ‘corporate logo’ type, the shield somehow ‘hangs on in’. I refer here to the

University of KwaZulu-Natal, built out of the two previous entities, the University of

Natal and the University of Durban-Westville, each with a full set of armorial bearings.

One might perhaps have expected these to have been merged in the same way in which

the two institutions were merged (a not uncommon heraldic procedure called ‘marshal-

ling’), but the new university was determined to shake off its heraldic past and come

up with something snappy and modern. I have to agree that they have done just that,

but I am also delighted to see that the shield remains an integral part of the design. An

African shield, of course, and then again only half a shield, but a shield nonetheless

(see Figs 31, 32, and 33).

I do not have much of the KwaDukuza Municipality to go on — just a 4 × 4 cm

black-and white newspaper cutting. The logo — for this is not a coat of arms — appears

to be half a Zulu shield within the upper half of an egg. And the half shield appears

to be fraying very badly on its inside edge (see Fig. 19). It is possible — the sample is

too small to be sure — that what we have here is half a Zulu shield joined with half a

mealie plant.

(a) (b) (c) (d)


The Helmet or Helm

This is the one part of traditional heraldry which seems to have been completely

abandoned in African heraldry. In traditional heraldry, the helm is an indication of status.

Whether it is of gold or steel, whether open or shut, barred or visored, and whether it

faces the front, or sideways, all these indicate a certain status, in British heraldry at

least. For example, only the reigning monarch and ‘Princes of the Blood Royal’ (Boutell,

1970:154) may have an open, barred, gold, front-facing helm. Corporate bodies (which

includes corporations and municipalities) must use the helm suitable to an ‘esquire’,

that is a closed, steel, visored helm, placed sideways. See the arms of the old Union

of South Africa (Fig. 11), those of the Umshwati Municipality (Fig. 25), the city of

Pietermaritzburg (Fig. 29), the universities of Durban-Westville and Natal (Figs. 30

and 31), the city of Durban (Fig. 33), the Greater Kokstad Municipality (Fig. 35) and

the Richmond Municipality (Fig. 42).

The arms of the Zululand District Municipality (Fig. 15) have what appears to be a

leopard-skin headring between shield and crest, and their description of their coat-of-arms

on their website [www.zululand.org.za] says that this headring is ‘The Helm’. Bruce

Berry’s website on South African heraldry (http://www.crwflags.com/fotw/flags/za-kn-

zu.html) says ‘the shield is ensigned of a leopard skin headring …’. I would personally

say that in traditional heraldry, this would be described as a torse.

The Torse

Boutell (1970:155), says

‘The crest was laced or bolted onto the helm, and to hide the unsightly join, various decorative means were employed ... [such as a] scarf … the twisting of such a scarf round the helm … would give rise to the torse ...’

The torse seems to have virtually disappeared from modern African heraldry, and

can be found in few of the examples illustrated in this article. I find this disappointing,

and in the case of KwaZulu-Natal heraldry almost unbelievable, for the function of the

torse can be seen as a support for loads to be carried on the head/helmet, and in Zulu

tradition, this has been the precise function of the symbol-heavy inkatha. The inkatha in

its simplest form is a coil of grass to be placed on the head to facilitate the carrying of

heavy loads on the head. Such a head-ring quickly soaks up sweat, skin particles, hair,

etc., known collectively (with other bodily waste) as insila, sometimes translated as

‘body-dirt’, but more correctly ‘body-essence’. These grass rings become highly personal

to the owner, and must not be allowed into the hands of enemies or they would be used

for witchcraft. In the days of the Zulu kings, from uShaka kaSenzangakhona, through

Dingane and Mpande to Cetshwayo kaMpande, the king kept an enormous grass-ring,

bound with python skin, under the roof of his ‘great hut’. This was added to yearly with

the insila of the king and other notables. When the British defeated Cetshwayo in 1879

at the Battle of Ulundi, they burnt down his great hut, with its huge national inkatha,

and this more than anything else symbolised the end of the nation to the Zulu people.

When King Solomon kaDinuzulu was looking for a powerful symbol for a political party

in the 1920s (Cope, 1993: 11, 170–171) the inkatha was an obvious choice. Solomon’s

short-lived political group was revived by Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi in the 1960s as

Inkatha yeNkululeko yeSizwe (‘the National Head-ring of Freedom’).


The Crest

After the shield, this is the next most important part of the armorial bearings from a

point of view of identity, because often the crest is used on its own as a visual sign of

the identity of the bearer, and because it carries the same symbolic, iconic weight as the

charges in the shield. Almost every example of post-colonial armorial bearings featured

in this article has a crest, and to discuss and compare all of them would be the work of

another full article. I mention here some interesting features of the crests illustrated in

this article, and will return to them later when overall symbolism of charges and crests

are discussed in the latter half of the article.

• Zululand District: Half a sun (rays), red, on a semi-circle of triangle-motifed beadwork

in the colours of the national flag, both mounted on a torse/headring of leopard skin

This combination already makes a complex symbolic statement. And this is only the

crest. The rest of the coat-of-arms also contains much symbolism (Fig. 15).

• Pietermaritzburg (City): A blue sun with five stars on it, the centre star gold, the

others white (Fig. 29).

• Lesotho: The limited blazon does not mention a crest and it is a moot point as to

whether the object at the top of the shield is a crest or not. If it is, it is an ear of corn,

or perhaps millet. But it is more likely to be the furry top of the stick often seen at the

top of a traditional African shield between the spear and the knobkerrie (Fig. 8).

• Namibia: A Fish Eagle on a torse both in the colours of the Namibian flag which is

the sole charge of the shield (Fig. 7).

• Swaziland: Two black plumes (ostrich feathers?) on a blue and gold torse. The crest

is said to be the king’s lidlabe (‘crown of feathers’) (Fig. 9).

• Transkei 4: On a green and white torse, a green mound with a wicker basket between

two aloes (Fig. 43).

• Zimbabwe: On a green and gold torse, a five-pointed red star with the Great Bird of

Zimbabwe superimposed.(Fig. 10).

• eNdumeni Municipality: The crest is a gold crown with seven black diamond nuggets

on the rim, and the spikes decorated with ears of wheat and maize (Fig. 18).

• KwaZulu5: On a black head-ring, an elephant’s head facing the front (Fig. 44).

• uMngeni Municipality: A bead-work crown in yellow, red and blue (Fig. 16).

• KwaZulu-Natal Provincial Arms: On a gold headring, a traditional Zulu beehive hut

(Fig. 28).

• uThungulu Municipality: A red spiky thing which could be a red aloe flower, or a

horned cucumber, or something similar (Fig. 24).

• aMajuba District Municipality: Hard to tell from the tiny size of the arms on the web-

page, but it would appear to be a women’s red isicholo (‘headdress’) (Fig. 13).

• uMshwathi Municipality: A three-masted brigantine, red-flagged, on blue waves on

a blue and white torse. These are the arms of New Hanover (Fig. 25).

• Dundee Municipality: A five-turreted castle. It is not clear whether these arms are

still in use (Fig. 26).

• uMsinga Municipality: A women’s red isicholo, with a bead-work rim (Fig. 21).

4 No longer in use, since 1994, when Transkei ceased to be a political entity 5 No longer in use, since 1994, when KwaZulu ceased to be a political entity.


• uMzinyathi District Municipality: On a red ring, a golden crown with three turrets

rising from it (Fig. 23).

• eDumbe Municipality: On an orange and blue torse, a white sheep couchant, sur-

mounted by a spear blade (Fig. 27).

The Crown

In colonial heraldry, crowns and coronets may be used by royalty and certain ranks of

aristocracy, and they would normally be placed between the helm and the crest.

In civic heraldry crowns may occur as charges and as crest coronets, and the mural

crown (‘masoned and embattled’ — Boutell p. 188) is the most common. This seems to

be the type of crown which adorns the top of the shield in the arms of the uMzinyathi

District Municipality (Fig. 23), and it is certainly the crown on top of the arms of the

Borough of Dundee (Fig. 26)

The arms of King Goodwill Zwelithini kaBhekuzulu (Fig. 45) show a royal crown

above the shield, but it is interesting to note6 that when his arms were registered with the

South African Bureau of Heraldry in 1975, they were registered without the crown.

The Mantling

The mantling is the ornate leaf-like structure which flows from under the torse on

each side of the helm, and down each side of the shield if there are no supporters. It

represents the cloak which was worn over the armour in the days of knighthood. It is

always in two colours: the two main colours of the shield. The arms of the uMshwathi

Municipality (New Hanover) (Fig. 25) show the mantling flowing down the sides of the

shield as there are no supporters, while the arms of the City of Pietermaritzburg (Fig.

29) flow outwards and upwards from the torse to make room for the heads of the two

wildebeest supporting the shield.

Modern African heraldry has discarded the mantling completely, which is perhaps a

pity. One understands the wish to discard images of colonialism and imperialism, but

the cloak can hardly be seen as a definitive statement of Western attire today (or indeed

for several centuries) whereas the cloak or cape is often still a part of African formal

attire, particularly if of lion or leopard skin. One thinks also of the Sotho blanket — un-

questionably part of the sartorial image of the baSotho. Where there are no supporters

in the modern coat of arms I cannot but think of how effective some sort of draped

cloak on each side of the shield would be. European royalty decorated their cloaks with

fleurs-de-lis and ermine; here in Africa we have even more effective patterning in the

hides of zebra and giraffe, besides the leopard skin favoured by Zulu royalty.

Mantling can still be seen in the arms of those municipalities which have not changed

from the coats-of-arms of towns dominant in the area. Besides uMshwathi/New Ha-

nover, see the Greater Kokstad Municipality (Fig. 35), eMnambithi/Ladysmith (Fig.

41), uMvoti/Greytown (Fig. 17) and Richmond (Fig. 42). The only two municipalities

which have devised new coats-of-arms using mantling are The Big Five False Bay

Municipality, which has green and gold mantling issuing from the sides and the top

of the shield, interrupted on each top corner by an elephant’s head (Fig. 20), and uM-

hlabayalingana (Fig. 14), also with arms that combine mantling with an elephant. The

6 Jens Pattke (20.02.01) in a website dealing with KZN heraldry.


effect in each case is not unbecoming, giving the effect of an elephant appearing from

within abundant foliage.

The Supporters

The role of the supporters is a simple one: to support and hold up the shield, but as

with so much else in heraldry, they are also an opportunity for symbols of identity.

Supporters are usually animals or birds associated with the person or place bearing the

arms; occasionally they are humans. A quick roll-call of the arms of some African states,

and some KZN municipalities will give an idea of the supporters favoured by African

heraldry. Namibia has two oryx antelope, Lesotho two ‘Basutho horses’, Uganda a

Ugandan Kob and a Crested Crane, Kenya two heraldic lions, the old coat of arms of

South Africa (1932 to 2000) a springbok and a gemsbok, Tanzania a man and a woman in

traditional clothing, Swaziland a lion and an elephant7, Zimbabwe two kudu, Botswana

two zebra, and the old Transkei arms showed two leopards.

The dominant animal theme continues with KwaZulu-Natal heraldry. The coat of arms

of Pietermaritzburg are supported by two black wildebeest, King Goodwill Zwelithini’s

arms by two heraldic lions, the old arms of KwaZulu by a leopard and a lion, the KZN

provincial arms by a lion and a black wildebeest, and the eDumbe Municipality by a

wildebeest and an eagle. Birds only as supporters are favoured by the uMzinyathi District

Municipality, with two bald ibises, the Zululand District Municipality with two Trum-

peter Hornbills, and the aMajuba District Municipality, with two Secretary Birds.

The coats-of-arms of the uMsinga, the Dundee, the uMngeni and the uThungulu

District Municipalities have no supporters at all.

The website of the eNdumeni Municipality provides interesting information:

The Bureau of Heraldry advised us that the Endumeni Municipality, being a Category B Municipality, is not qualify [sic] to utilize animals or birds as supports in the coat-of-arms, therefore we opted for the two guinea fowl feathers …. to flank the shield as supports. [See Fig. 18] The choice of the guinea fowls [sic] symbolizes the natural wildlife in this area.

This quote confirms that some at least of the new KZN municipalities are seeking

the approval of the South African Bureau of Heraldry8. It also raises the question of

what a ‘Category B Municipality’ is. And it introduces the curious heraldic notion that

depending on one’s municipal status one may either have whole supporters, or partial

supporters. If you can’t get the bird, at least you get the feathers. It brings us back to

the question I raised earlier about indigenous hide mantling: if you are a ‘Category B

Municipality’ and therefore do not qualify for complete lions as your supporters, can

you at least drape a little lion skin around the edge of the shield?

The Base, or Compartment

As Boutell points out (1970:180):

The supporters themselves must have some support. Having the task of holding up the shield, they must be given something to stand on.

7 The lion representing the king and the elephant the Ndlovukadzi — the Queen Mother.

8 This has not always been the case. The website of KZN heraldry states for the coat-of-arms of the erstwhile ‘homeland’ KwaZulu that although is was registered for the KwaZulu Legislative Assembly with the Bureau of Heraldry, the ‘South African State Herald did not issue a formal certificate of registration as ..[the] .. arms had been devised without consultation of the Bureau of Heraldry’.


Boutell points out that occasionally the motto supports the supporters, but ‘when a

massive elephant ..[is] ..made to stand on the edge of a ribbon’, this has ‘an unfortunate

appearance of instability’. [ibid]

The solution which is commonly employed is to make the supporters stand on a

mound, usually covered with grass or other vegetation. This area is known as the com-partment. It has the added advantage of providing yet another space for various symbols,

especially if these are growing plants representative of species found in the territory

of the coat-of-arms. Some examples of compartments with and without anything extra

are discussed below.

In the old arms of the Transkei (Fig. 43), the two supporting leopards stand on a

grassy mound, and the motto is superimposed on this as well. The two oryx supporting

the Namibian shield stand on a mound on which a Welwitschia mirabilis is growing,

an example of local desert flora which is ‘symbolic of survival and national fortitude’

(Wikipedia, Namibian coat of arms). The two horses holding up the shield of Lesotho

are on a grassy mound, which carries the motto. On the mound below the shield of

Uganda we find a representation of the River Nile flowing from the base of the shield

between examples of a coffee tree and a cotton plant. There is still enough space for

the motto at the bottom.

Proteas grow between the legs of the supporting antelope on the mound of the old

South African arms, and between the feet of the supporting humans holding the shield

of Tanzania are a clove bush and a cotton bush. The two kudu holding up Zimbabwe’s

shield are trampling on ‘an earthy mound composed of stalks of wheat, a pile of cotton,

and a head of maize’. And yes, there is still room for the motto.

The two zebra of Botswana tread daintily on the edge of the ribbon carrying the motto,

and the supporters of the Swaziland shield float in mid-air, just above the flimsy ribbon

bearing the country’s motto.

Turning now to KwaZulu-Natal heraldry, we see that the two Trumpeter Hornbills

of the Zululand District Municipality are safe on a grassy mound which also carries

two Nguni cattle horns (if you believe the Zululand District Municipality website),

alternatively ‘two conjoined elephant tusks, the points upwards beside the respective

shield flanks, over the join a set of stringed beads, all Argent’ (if you believe Bruce

Berry’s South African heraldic website). The two Bald Ibis of uMzinyathi likewise

have a grassy mound, shared with the motto, and this is also the case of the wildebeest

and eagle of eDumbe Municipality. It is sufficient, though, for the insubstantial guinea

fowl feathers framing the shield of eNdumeni Municipality to flow out from the edges

of the motto ribbon.

The Motto

No coat-of-arms is complete without a motto, inscribed on a band or ribbon at the bottom

of the arms, below, or superimposed upon, the compartment.

Here follow examples of mottos from African states:

• Namibia: Unity, Liberty, Justice• Lesotho: Khotso9, Pula, Nala (‘Peace, Rain and Prosperity’)

• Uganda: For God and my Country• Kenya: Harambee (for which no translation is provided on the Wikipedia website)

9 Although the illustration says ‘Khoto’


• Old South Africa: Ex Unitate Vires (‘From Unity Comes Strength’10)

• Tanzania: Uhuru Na Umoja (‘Freedom and Unity’)

• Swaziland: Siyinqaba (‘We are the fortress’)

• Zimbabwe: Unity, Freedom, Work• Botswana: Pula (‘Rain’)

From KwaZulu-Natal:

• uMsinga Municipality: Siqhuba amandla omnotho nentuthuko eMsinga (‘We drive

the strength of wealth and progress in uMsinga’)

• Provincial Arms: Masisukume Sakhe (‘Let us rise up and build’)

• uMshwathi Municipality: Bete und arbeite (‘Pray and work’)

• Old KwaZulu Arms: Sonqoba simunye (‘We will conquer if we are one’) (Fig. 44)

• Arms of King Goodwill Zwelithini: Ilembe Leqa Amanye Ngoku Khalipha (a

slight rewording of one of the most famous phrases from the praises of Shaka

kaSenzangakhona, meaning ‘the axe that surpasses other axes in sharpness’. The

Ilembe District Municipality takes its name from this phrase.) (Fig.45)

• Zululand District Municipality: Inqubekela Phambili Ngobuqotho (‘Service Delivery

with Dignity’)

• eDumbe Municipality: Utrumque (‘both’ or ‘each’. The significance is not clear))

• uMzinyathi District Municipality: Thuthuka Mzinyathi (‘Go forwards Mzinyathi’)

• eNdumeni Municipality: Together in Prosperity• uMngeni Municipality: uMngeni Municipality (Fig. 16). Should we consider this a

motto? — it occupies the place of a motto, and is placed within the standard ribbon.

It raises an interesting question. Mottos, by and large are considered to be uplifting

and inspirational messages. Scots Clan mottos, as explained by MacLean (1990)11,

are of this type, such as the Gaelic ’S rioghal mo dhream (‘Royal is my race’) for the

MacGregor clan (MacLean, 1990:71), and the Latin Virtutis Gloria Merces (‘Glory is

the reward of valour’) for the Robertson clan, who also turn to Gaelic with Garg’n uair dhuis gear (‘fierce when raised’) (op. cit. 105). Now and then, though, it is clear that a

clan can think of nothing more inspirational than the clan name. Thus members of the

Gordon clan went into battle shouting An Gordonach! An Gordonach! (‘A Gordon!

A Gordon!’) (op. cit. 34). Perhaps the uMngeni Municipality see themselves in the

same light, and perhaps the oft-repeated phrase ‘uMngeni Municipality’ drives the

workers of this municipality to new heights of pride and productivity. Perhaps….

• uThungulu Municipality: We may have the same issue here, except that the uThungulu

Municipality does not employ the standard ribbon for the words ‘uThungulu District

Municipality’ (Fig. 24). They would need three ribbons, anyway, for this municipality

is language sensitive, and under its emblem we find ‘uThungulu District Municipality’,

then ‘uThungulu Distrik [?] Munisipaliteit’ and then ‘uMasipala Wesifunda Waso

Thungulu’.

• Pietermaritzburg Arms: Here again the motto is simply ‘uMgungundlovu’, the Zulu

name for Pietermaritzburg. And yet — is this so simple? That uMgungundlovu is ‘the

Zulu name for Pietermaritzburg’ is a given among whites, but amongst Zulu-speakers

uMgungundlovu is the site of Dingane’s former main establishment near Babanango,

10 One of the more splendid pieces of irony found in heraldic mottos. 11 MacLean, Charles (1990) The Clan Almanac. Eric Dobby Publishing, Kent, England.


and Pietermaritzburg is referred to as eTawini (‘town’). There may well have once

been some sort of inspirational message in the Pietermaritzburg motto, something

along the lines of ‘Take cheer, white citizens, for we have beaten the Zulus, and the

power lies in our town now.’

The Charges

Although these are very much part of armorial bearings, I consider them separately

here, as these are the devices which make symbolic statements about identity, the third

element identified in the title of this article.

Charges are any iconic statement in the body of the shield (and elsewhere) that can

assist in the identification of the bearer of the shield. It may be as simple as a red band

in the top third of the shield (‘Argent, a chief gules’ — the arms of the family Menzies

(Boutell, 1970: Plate III) or a yellow band running from the top left to the bottom right

across a blue background (‘Azure, a bend or’ — the arms of the Scrope family (op.cit. Plate II). The charges may be identifiable items: swords, crosses, animal heads.

They may carry symbolic weight: the star represents light which may in turn represent

knowledge, the book does so immediately.

Analysis of 27 coats-of-arms from KwaZulu-Natal municipalities and a few selected

African states shows that a number of symbols occur regularly and these are described

below, in order of frequency.

Heading the list is the category ‘Wild animal’ or ‘African (game) animal’, with 12

of the 27 arms using these. These are mainly used as supporters, and amongst others

we can note the Uganda kob, zebra, gemsbok, lion, kudu, and springbok. The main

charge of the Lesotho arms is a crocodile, here symbolic of the BaKwena (‘People of

the Crocodile’) (Fig. 8), one of the largest clan groups in the nation. The Big Five and

False Bay Municipality, as might be expected from the name, features lion, elephant,

rhinoceros, buffalo, and leopard on the shield, with two additional elephants as crests

(Fig. 20). False Bay is not exactly represented on the arms, but if you open the website

of this municipality, you are greeted by the sound of a roaring hippopotamus. A buffalo

head dominates the shield of the uMzinyathi Municipality arms, an excellent example

of canting arms, where the name of the entity represented by the arms is represented

by a charge in the arms. Boutell (op.cit. 298) defines canting arms as ‘arms containing

an allusion to or a play on the name of the bearer’. In this case the head of the buffalo

alludes to the name of the municipality — uMzinyathi (‘the home of the buffalo’).

The next most popular image is that of the wavy blue band representing water,

found in 11 coats-of-arms. This is very successfully used in the arms of the uMngeni

Municipality (Fig. 16) where blue and white wavy bands in the lower part of the shield

are counter-balanced by a falling blue band running from the top left to lower right,

representing the famous Howick Falls.

Also used in 11 of the arms are various birds. These appear mainly as supporters:

the kob of Uganda is assisted by a Crowned Crane (Fig. 5); the wildebeest of eDumbe

Municipality by an eagle (Fig. 27); while the shield of the Zululand Municipality is

held up by two Trumpeter Hornbills (Fig. 15). The shield of the aMajuba District

Municipality is supported by what appears to be two Secretary Birds, or they may be

Blue Cranes. It is difficult to tell when a website gives a coat-of-arms only 9 mm high

(Fig. 13). The aMajuba arms also give a good example of canting arms with the main


symbol on the body of the shield a pair of white doves (Zulu: amajuba). The uMzinyathi

District Municipality uses Bald Ibises to guard its shield. The Fish Eagle appears twice,

as a crest on the arms of Namibia (Fig. 7), and in the top left corner of the shield in the

arms of the uMhlabayalingana Municipality (Fig. 14). The South African coat-of-arms

uses the head and wings of a Secretary Bird as part of a very complex ‘multi-crest’.

The crest of the Zimbabwe arms (Fig. 10) is the famed ‘Zimbabwe bird’, a soapstone

sculpture of some antiquity.

Next in popularity are images of various plants, flowers and trees, with ten of the

arms using these. Occupying the lower half of the shield of the KwaZulu-Natal arms is

a strelitzia (Fig. 28), while a flowering aloe occupies approximately the same space in

the arms of uMsinga Municipality (Fig. 21). A dominant feature of the uThungulu Dis-

trict Municipality, occupying the whole of the lower part of the arms (outside and over

the shield) is a flowering, leaved and fruiting branch of what I assume to be the Natal

Plum (Carissa grandiflora, or, in Zulu, umthungulu). Here we have another example

of canting arms. In the arms of Tanganyika, and its successor Tanzania (Figs. 2 and 3),

coffee bushes grow out of the compartment, while an orange tree in full fruit occupies

the third quarter of the old South African arms, a canting reference to the Orange Free

State (Fig. 11). Proteas grow from the base of the old South African arms (Fig. 11),

while a protea is also part of the crest of the new South African arms (Fig. 12).

At the same level of popularity is what I could call Zulu (or African) cultural icons,

with ten arms displaying these. Dominant in the lower half of the Uganda arms (Fig. 5)

is an African drum. The Zululand Municipality (Fig. 15) and the uMngeni Municipality

(Fig. 16) both feature traditional Zulu pots. Traditional weapons, usually a spear and a

knobkerrie crossed behind the shield, are found in the arms of Kenya (Fig. 4), Uganda

(Fig. 5), Lesotho (Fig. 8), eDumbe Municipality (Fig. 27), KwaZulu-Natal (Fig. 28)

Zululand Municipality (Fig. 15), Nquthu Municipality (Fig. 22), eNdumeni Municipal-

ity (Fig. 18) where they occur inside the shield, and South Africa (Fig. 12) where they

occur as part of the complex crest. In the arms of uMsinga Municipality (Fig. 21), a

traditional battle-axe is crossed with a hoe, and in the arms of Zimbabwe (Fig. 10), the

hoe is crossed with an AK-47 machine gun. The KZN provincial arms use a traditional

bee-hive hut (Fig. 28), while the arms of both the aMajuba Municipality and the uMsinga

Municipality use a traditional Zulu women’s headdress (isicholo) (Figs. 13 and 21). The

Nquthu Municipality arms drape the traditional Zulu king’s lion-claw necklace around

a silhouette of iSandlwana Mountain, one of the more curious juxtapositions of images

to be found in KZN municipal heraldry.

Next on our scale of popularity is the elephant on its own, or elephant tusks, with nine

coats-of-arms featuring this symbol. I deliberately excluded the elephant from the list

of wild animals above (apart from the reference to the Big Five) because the elephant is

such a popular symbol on its own. Besides being the ‘King of the Beasts’ in Zulu lore,

the elephant is also the ‘Beast of the King’, for Zulu royalty is always greeted with the

shout of ‘Wena wendlovu!’ (‘You of the elephant’). The elephant is one of the support-

ers of the Swazi coat-of-arms, a reference, as already mentioned, to the important role

of the Queen Mother (Indlovukadzi) in Swaziland. In municipal heraldry the elephant

is a very dominant crest on the arms of the uMhlabayalingana Municipality (Fig. 14),

and the sole charge on the shield of the uMvoti Municipality (which I assume to be the

original arms of Greytown, the seat of the uMvoti Municipality). The elephant is also


the sole charge on the shield of the city of Pietermaritzburg (Fig. 29), a canting reference

to the Zulu name of Pietermaritzburg (uMgungundlovu — supposedly ‘The Place of the

Elephant’, but see Koopman in Laband and Haswell). The elephant appears in the top

half of the shield of the Zululand Municipality, and a pair of upturned tusks surround

the base of the shield (Fig. 15) . Tusks held by supporters to surround the shield are a

feature of the arms of Tanganyika and Tanzania (Figs. 2 and 3), of Botswana (Fig. 6),

where the tusk held by the zebra on the left is balanced by the stalk of sorghum held by

the zebra on the right, and of South Africa (Fig. 12) where double tusks on each side

of the lower half of the shield rise out of the motto.

Eight of the coats-of-arms featured in this analysis show some sort of topographical

icon. I have already mentioned the representations of rivers by means of the wavy blue

band. Here we have more references to mountains and other topographical features.

The arms of Tanganyika and Tanzania (Figs. 2 and 3) both depict Mount Kilimanjaro

in the base, while from the base of the shield of Uganda (Fig. 5) flows the Nile River.

The main charge on the shield of Zimbabwe (Fig. 10) is a representation of the rock

and walls of the historical site Great Zimbabwe. The arms of the Zululand Municipality

(Fig. 15) show two identical conical mountains with ‘top-knots’, while the arms of the

uMsinga Municipality (Fig. 21) show three green mountains. The symbolic rendering

of Howick Falls in the arms of the uMngeni Municipality (Fig. 16) has already been

mentioned above. In the lower third of the shield of the uMhlabayalingana Municipality

(Fig.14), we find a hippopotamus swimming in a lake, while in the background a sun

rises (sets?) behind a low range of green hills. The mountain shape in the top quarter

of the eNdumeni arms is supposedly that of a prominent mountain in the district (Fig.

18), while iSandlwana Mountain, sporting a lion’s-claw necklace in the arms of the

Nquthu Municipality (Fig. 22), has been mentioned above.

Besides the arms of the uMhlabayalingana Municipality (Fig. 14) mentioned in the

previous paragraph, six other arms feature a sun in one form or another. The central

charge on the shield of Uganda (Fig. 5) is a ‘sun in full splendour’ , in other words a

full sun surrounded by rays. Namibia has a similar, but much smaller sun in the top

left of the shield (Fig. 7). In the South African arms, a quarter sun is the top element of

the complex crest (Fig. 12). A similar sun forms the top part of the crest of the arms of

the Zululand Municipality (Fig. 15). In the arms of the uThungulu Municipality (Fig.

24), the Zulu shield sits on top of a round yellow-orange sun, from which issue little

triangular rays, alternating in purple and light blue. The crest of the arms of the City of

Pietermaritzburg (Fig. 29) is a blue fully-rayed sun, carrying five stars.

Equally popular is imagery of agricultural crops, with seven of the coats-of-arms

depicting the cultivation of cotton, sorghum, maize and the like. I have already men-

tioned the coffee trees of Tanganyika and Tanzania, and the sorghum of Botswana. The

shield of the uMhlabayalingana Municipality (Fig. 14) emphasises agricultural produce.

I recognise the cashew nuts to the right of the Fish Eagle, and the maize cob below it,

but cannot identify the two fruits on the right. Perhaps the most bizarre juxtaposition of

images among all the armorial bearings described here is the crown forming the crest

of the arms of the eNdumeni Municipality (Fig. 18), which has ears of maize and wheat

growing out of it. As if this was not enough, the crown has seven black nuggets of coal

decorating its base as well. The Zulu shield forming the arms of KwaDukuza (Fig. 19)

has already been discussed. The only image I could obtain is very small, and the nature


of the objects is unclear. It could be a representation of a shield unravelling on one side,

as if knitted of wool, with a loose end steadily pulled out on one side, or one half of a

Zulu shield conjoined with one half of a stalk of maize. I suspect it is the latter.

Five of the arms discussed here use flags as charges. These are either the flags of the

entity concerned, as with the arms of Tanganyika (Fig. 2), Tanzania (Fig. 3), Kenya

(Fig. 4) and Namibia (Fig. 5), or they are smaller charges as in the case of the arms of

the City of Pietermaritzburg (Fig. 29), where the wildebeest on the left is charged with

the flag of Great Britain, and the one on the right with the flag of the shortlived Boer

Republic of Natalia (1838–1843).

Wildebeest form a category of their own in KwaZulu-Natal heraldry, and were ex-

cluded from the category wild animals which headed this list of commonly recurring

images. It is not clear to me why wildebeest should be heraldically associated with Natal,

but the old Natal coat of-arms (not illustrated) had two wildebeest, and this iconic as-

sociation has continued. Among the arms discussed here, five use the wildebeest, usually

as a pair. Two wildebeest in the second quarter of the old South African arms (Fig. 11)

represent the province of Natal. Another two stand upright facing one another in the left

and right quarters of the shield of the eNdumeni Municipality (Fig. 18) and the same

two in identical pose are the supporters of the arms of the City of Pietermaritzburg (Fig.

29). The KZN provincial arms (Fig. 28) and those of the eDumbe Municipality (Fig. 27)

are satisfied with only one wildebeest as a supporter, with KZN using the wildebeest on

the right of the shield, and eDumbe on the left. The arms of the town of Dundee (Fig.

26) have two wildebeest running in the top part of the shield. Wildebeest are found in

the arms of many institutions in KwaZulu-Natal, such as in the arms of the erstwhile

University of Natal (Fig. 31).

Earlier in this article I discussed the difference between the traditional shape of the

heraldic shield, and the ‘African shield’, first adopted by Tanganyika in 1961. Here I

especially identify the ‘Zulu shield’, a shield of African shape, with dappled markings in

black or brown, and two vertical lines of parallel black bars. Four of the coats-of-arms

analysed here use this shield specifically, one being Swaziland (Fig. 9), where it is the

sole charge on an otherwise traditional heraldic shield. The unravelling shield of the

KwaDukuza Municipality (Fig. 19) was discussed above in conjunction with maize.

The shield of the Nquthu Municipality (Fig. 22) is dappled brown and white and has

the traditional arms in saltire behind the shield, with a tufted stick between them. The

uThungulu Municipality (Fig. 24) has a shield dappled in black and white.

Four coats-of-arms use livestock as a charge. These are Botswana, with the head of an

ox in the lower third of the shield (Fig. 6), Lesotho, with two Sotho ponies as supporters

(Fig. 8), eNdumeni Municipality (Fig. 18), with the head of an ox in the bottom quarter

(and a website which boasts the ‘biggest feedlots in KwaZulu-Natal’), and eDumbe

Municipality (Fig. 27), where the couchant sheep of the crest appears to be transfixed

by the spear behind the shield.

Other symbols and images found in the African and KwaZulu-Natal heraldry in-

clude:

Stars (Figs. 10, 26 and 27); representations of industry, such as cogs and wheels (Fig.

6), a miner’s lamp (Fig. 18), a flaming torch (Figs. 2 and 30), an early Portuguese seafarer

with an anchor (representing the Cape) and an ox-wagon (representing the Transvaal),


Fig. 2 Fig. 3 Fig. 4

Fig. 8

Fig. 5 Fig. 6

Fig. 7

Fig. 9 Fig. 10


Fig. 11 Fig. 12

Fig. 13

Fig. 14 Fig. 15 Fig. 16

Fig. 17 Fig. 18

Fig. 19


Fig. 28

Fig. 20 Fig. 21 Fig. 22

Fig. 23 Fig. 24

Fig. 25

Fig. 26Fig. 27

Fig. 29 Fig. 30


Fig. 38 Fig. 40

Fig. 32

Fig. 31 Fig. 33

Fig. 34 Fig. 35

Fig. 36 Fig. 37


Fig. 45

Fig. 44

Fig. 41Fig. 42

Fig. 43


both in Fig. 11) and what appears to be an old amphora (although possibly it is a harp)

in the arms of Dundee (Fig. 26).

The symbols in the arms of the uMshwathi Municipality are unique (Fig. 25): a three-

masted barque in full sail over a wavy ocean is the crest; while a red ‘Foreign-Legion’

type fortress occupies the top half of the shield , and a badge consisting of a black cross

superimposed on a red heart, in turn superimposed on a white rose, is the charge on the

bottom half of the shield. These are surely the arms of the town of New Hanover, the

seat of the uMshwathi Municipality.

Multiplicity of images

The number of images found in a single coat-of-arms in this analysis ranged from two

to nine. Simplest of all the armorial bearings is that of the uMvoti Municipality (Fig.

17), using the old arms of Greytown. This simple design has a single elephant on the

shield and a single animal head as a crest. (What this animal is, is difficult to tell from the

small image available. An ox? A boar? A sheep?) In contrast, the arms of the Zululand

Municipality (Fig. 15), and those of the eNdumeni Municipality (Fig. 18) seem very

fussy and ‘bitty’ — indeed, overcrowded — with nine distinct images or symbols.

By and large, the charges found in post-colonial African heraldry, and in the KwaZulu-

Natal heraldry, carry enormous symbolic weight. My personal impression is that the

aesthetic design of the arms is often drowned by the weight of its symbolic icons. I can

imagine a committee somewhere, charged with the design of a coat-of-arms to represent

the image that the people presumably have of their piece of territory saying:

‘And we must have a sheaf of wheat to represent agriculture’

‘Yes, and a miner’s helmet to represent coal mining’

‘Right, and we must have one or more of the big five animals to represent

the importance of the game reserves in our tourist initiative’

‘And what about a Zulu shield/beehive hut/ crossed knobkerrie and spear/Zulu

ukhamba/beadwork to represent Zulu culture and heritage?’

‘Yes but what about the beauty of our natural flora? I suggest a strelitzia/

protea/arum lily ….’

And so the shield becomes packed to overflowing with symbols, and thereby loses

the simplicity of design which makes a good visual symbol.

How African are these municipal identities?

Here we come to the last part of the title, the phrase ‘post-colonial’.

It is surely beyond any dispute that Africa has for decades, having won independence

from colonial powers, tried to shake off the trappings of colonialism. The street-name

changing in Pietermaritzburg in the early years of the 21st Century, and the identical

process in Durban in the early months of 2007, have been widely described as a need

to rid these cities of colonial images (including, on occasion, street names which refer

to colonial figures). With the ‘New South Africa’, the new African Union, South Af-

rican president Thabo Mbeki’s concept of the African Renaissance, and various other

bodies, anything to do with colonialism, imperialism or Europeanism has been seen

as needing replacement with objects, ideas, attitudes, processes, and symbols that are


African in nature. (Curiously enough, this has never applied that that unsuitable item

of dress for African climes: the Western suit with its tightly knotted tie). This shrugging

off of European values and images has to do with the pursuit of an African identity,

and it is within the framework of this pursuit that we finally look at coats-of-arms in

Post-Colonial Africa.

The first, and surely immediate question is ‘Why do these independent African nations,

and these post-apartheid municipalities in the new South Africa need coats-of-arms at

all?’ Granted, some kind of visual or iconic identity is needed just as a product brand

needs a trademark symbol. Badges, crests, logos, marques and so on have their use

for political entities as they do for trade products. But why the shield? Why the shield

with its crest, its supporters, and its motto? Surely this combination has no place as a

political symbol in the new ‘Non-European’ Africa? And yet clearly it does. No matter

how many of the charges on these shields are African in nature — African animals and

birds, African landscapes, African artifacts — they still fit into an iconic matrix which

is essentially unchanged from the days when knights jousted at tournaments on the

fields of Europe.

At this point, I have to acknowledge that there are some entities in the ‘new’ South

Africa which have totally eschewed the trappings of knighthood, and have opted for

visual symbols which are more like commercial logos and brand marks. We have, in

fact, a sliding scale of visual symbols of identity for political identities, which range

from those which are still utterly indistinguishable from European heraldic images, to

those that bear no resemblance at all.

At the European/colonial end of the scale are those municipalities and other entities

which have not discarded previously existing coats-of-arms. Among those discussed and

illustrated in this article are the municipalities of uMvoti, bearing the arms of Greytown

(Fig. 17), uMshwathi, with the arms of New Hanover (Fig. 25), the Greater Kokstad

Municipality, using the arms of Kokstad (Fig. 35), eMnambithi/Ladysmith with the

arms of Ladysmith (Fig. 41), and Richmond, using the arms of the town of Richmond

(Fig. 42). It may be that these municipalities are a little slow off the mark and despite

in 2007 having been in existence for eight years, have yet to shrug off the old identity

and apply for a new one. It may be that their new identities are being processed by the

South African Bureau of Heraldry which, after all, has almost certainly not seen such a

demand for heraldic identities since its formation, and may be having trouble with the

overload. And, of course, it might be that these municipalities are content to piggy-back

on the heraldic identities of colonial entities.

Just below this level on our sliding scale comes the independent African nation of

Tanzania. Fig. 2 shows the coat-of-arms of Tanganyika, awarded by the College of

Heraldry in 1961. Tanganyika was a British colony, so these are colonial arms, however

African they may appear at first sight. Tanzania was what the same country called itself

once it gained independence from Britain. Fig. 3 shows the Tanzanian arms. A quick

comparison of the two will show that the new Tanzania changed very little indeed of

the previous Tanganyikan arms. Two golden crossed hoes were added, the black band

edged with gold on a green background tilted up to the right, and the flaming torch

retained only its flame. The shape, colours, supporters, compartment and charges in the

compartment remained the same.

Next on our scale are those entities which have started afresh with a ‘new’ coat-of-

arms, but have somehow not been able to shake off certain aspects which remain deter-


minedly colonial. Take for example all those that could not resist a crown — surely the

quintessential symbol of European monarchy. The African nations have resisted using

this symbol, but not the municipalities of uMngeni , eNdumeni, and uMzinyathi, all with

shield ensigned with a dominant crown. In this category are the arms of the Province

of KwaZulu-Natal (Fig. 28), not because of an imperial crown, but because the lion

supporting the shield on the right is straight from the arms of the monarch of England:

the stance, the curled tail, the tongue hanging out, the tufts below the knee — these are

all the hallmarks of the British heraldic lion. Compare this lion to the lion supporting

the right side of the arms of Swaziland (Fig. 9), still a little ‘Euro-heraldic’ in nature,

but a lot more African.

Then we come a little lower on the scale to those coats-of-arms where no particular

symbol or charge reminds us specifically of Euro-Western ideas and values, but the

overall impression of a shield (especially if it is the traditional heraldic shape, and not

an African shield) with supporters on a compartment, a crest above the shield and a

motto below, still reminds us of European heraldry. King Goodwill Zwelithini’s arms

(Fig. 45), the arms of the erstwhile Transkei (Fig. 43), those of the Zululand District

Municipality (Fig. 15), the uMhlabayalingana Municipality (Fig. 14), the uMngeni

and eNdumeni municipalities (Figs. 16 and 18) — all these still would not look out of

place attached to a venerable boys’ school in England, or the Guild of Haberdashers

in Stuttgardt.

Below these on our sliding scale are those municipalities which have made the break

from the shield, and have dispensed with crests, mottoes, supporters and the rest. The

shield may still be used as a symbol, but the overall shape of the emblem (we must now

stop calling it a ‘coat-of-arms’) no longer says ‘heraldry’. Two of these that use the Zulu

shield as a symbol are the emblems of the uThungulu District Municipality (Fig. 24)

and the KwaDukuza Municipality (Fig. 19). The former places a Zulu shield within a

large yellow-orange ball, which may be either the sun (it does have what appear to be

rays issuing from it) or a very large ithungulu fruit. A fruiting, flowering, branch of the

ithungulu lies across the bottom, slightly off centre. The name of the municipality, in

three languages, lies beneath the yellow ball in concentric arcs , concave to the top, and

are without the ribbon so typical of standard heraldry. The latter (KwaDukuza) is the

Zulu shield which appears to be unravelling into a mealie stalk, this being placed in the

top half of an oval, a rather wobbly line of beadwork separating this from the words

KWADUKUZAMUNICIPALITY

It is worthwhile looking again here at the logo of the University of KwaZulu-Natal.

As has been previously stated, the University of KwaZulu-Natal was the result of a

merger on 2002 between the previous universities of Natal and Durban-Westville, whose

coats-of-arms are shown in Figs. 31 and 30 respectively. The new logo, or emblem,

again clearly not a coat-of-arms, uses half a Zulu shield conjoined with half a globe, on

a vertical axis. The five coloured bars in the shield and the five coloured sun rays issu-

ing from the globe represent the five campuses of the new university. The only symbol

which has been carried over from the arms of the previous universities is a book, shown

as a single wavy red band.


The emblem of the Mkhambathini Municipality (Fig. 36) consists of a white egg,

within which is an elephant on the left (for no obvious reason), a chicken in the bottom

(representing the large number of Rainbow Chicken farms in the area), with sugarcane

(the dominant crop of the area) in the background, and in the very distant background,

faintly visible is the gray outline, of the flat-topped Natal Table Mountain, the Zulu

name of which — eMkhambathini — gives its name to this municipality.

The Mpofana Municipality uses a circle within a circle (Fig. 40). In the space between

the two circles are the words ‘MPOFANA MUNICIPALITY’ and ‘UMKHANDLU

WASE MPOFANA’), while within the inner circle an eland on the banks of a river

is backed by mountains on the left and factories on the right. The eland and the river

together are canting references to the name of the municipality, named for the Mpofana

River which runs through it, which could be interpreted as the tawny-yellowish river,

or the River of the Eland.

The uMgungundlovu District Municipality (Fog. 34) has eschewed the shield, but

has not been able to resist multiple symbolism, giving rise to an emblem that can only

be described as ‘cluttered’. Five squares are tilted 45° so they are more like lozenges,

and placed two above three, and all five above a wavy blue line, which, as we know by

now, represents a river. The space between the lower three lozenges and the wavy blue

lines is filled in with a zig-zag black-and-white pattern which could possibly represent

roof tiles. The squares are filled in with full colour pictures of (reading from left to right

and top to bottom) an elephant (which could refer to the indlovu (‘elephant’) in the name

of this municipality), an eland (which surely refers to the Mpofana Local Municipality

which is part of this District Municipality), a red flat-topped mountain (Natal Table

Mountain — see Mkhambathini Municipality above), a Zulu woman with a red isicholo (‘headdress’) (referring perhaps to the Zulu population and Zulu cultural tourism), and

some factories set against green hills (industry and landscape). Arising out of the top

two squares, and creating an overall pyramid shape, is the top part of the clock tower

of the Pietermaritzburg City Hall, a reference to the fact that Pietermaritzburg is the

dominant city of this municipality, and also because this municipality has chosen as a

name one which is often called ‘the Zulu name of Pietermaritzburg’.

By far the simplest of the logos/emblems chosen by municipalities in KwaZulu-Natal

are those of the Ugu District Municipality and the eThekwini Metro. The Ugu D.M. has

chosen as its emblem a pale yellow sun, under which are what could be four waves, two

on each side, the upper waves a light blue, the lower ones a pale mauve (Fig. 38). The

eThekwini Metro has chosen the dome of Durban’s City Hall, a simple, striking and

effective logo, in bold blue-and-white (Figure on outside cover). Although these are

far simpler in design than the often highly-complex visual conglomerates which other

municipalities have adopted, they are not without symbolic value. The Ugu logo reduces

‘sun-and-surf’ to the simplest possible visual elements, suitably so for a municipality

with a Zulu name which translates into English as ‘coast’. The Durban municipality

has chosen an iconic architectural image — the highly recognisable dome of the City

Hall, and this itself is symbolically relevant. Indeed, the phrase ‘city hall’ is often used

as a metonym for ‘local government’. The effectiveness of the eThekwini logo as a

visual image, simple, uncluttered and direct, can be seen when we contrast it with the

logos used for both the Msunduzi Local Municipality (Pietermaritzburg) and the Mgun-

gundlovu District Municipality (Pietermaritzburg district). Both use the top half of the


Pietermaritzburg City Hall tower — itself a highly recognisable visual icon — but then

clutter this image with a variety of other images (see Figs. 29 and 34).

Conclusions

There is certainly no consistency in the manner in which the newly constituted

municipalities of KwaZulu-Natal have created their symbolic and iconic identities.

As we have seen, some appear quite content to adopt the full heraldic emblems of the

towns with which the are associated. It may well be, of course, that they are still in a

process of designing new emblems. But if so, in the process, they appear quite happy

to use the old emblems in modern contexts. The newspaper advertisement which shows

the mayor of the uMshwathi Municipality happily wearing ceremonial robes with the

arms of New Hanover embroidered thereon, is a case in point.

A majority have opted for a new emblem, but have stayed within the general heraldic

framework of the colonial past, producing images which are curiously unsettling in that

the symbols chosen are uniquely and exclusively African but are fitted within a frame-

work which remains identifiably European. Some have discarded this framework and

come up with aesthetically satisfying emblems that are both African and modern, by

which I mean are able to incorporate traditional African elements in a new and vibrant

way. Such a one is the emblem (can we call it a ‘coat-of-arms’) of the uThungulu Mu-

nicipality (Fig. 24), undoubtedly my favourite of all the modern municipal designs.

And then others, as we have seen, have gone for very basic logos, knowing that the

simpler the design, the stronger the brand identity. Students of branding and identity

have long acknowledged that it is the very simple logos, like those of both Mercedes-

Benz and Volkswagen, which are the successful ones.

Many questions have been left unanswered in this article. It would be interesting

to know at what point a proposed municipal emblem ceases to be regarded as a coat-

of-arms, needing approval by the South African Bureau of Heraldry. Surely when the

eThekwini Municipality chose their simple blue-and-white dome, this did not need

heraldic permission? It would be interesting to know what sort of brief was given to

the designers of the various coats-of-arms, the logos, and the other visual symbols of

the various municipalities. How did they perceive their own identities as municipalities

before an artist produced a provisional draft of a coat-of-arms? Did the central govern-

ment produce any kind of guideline for the new municipalities?

This has been very much an exploratory research. More in-depth research into mu-

nicipal and other political iconography in South Africa is called for, but these are the

sorts of questions that need answers.

Bibliography

Brooke-Little, J.P. 1970 Boutell’s Heraldry. Frederick Warne, London

Cope, Nicholas 1993 To Bind the Nation: Solomon kaDinuzulu and Zulu Nationalism 1913–1933.

University of Natal Press, Pietermaritzburg.

Koopman, A. 1988 ‘The Place of the Elephants?’ In Laband and Haswell below.

Laband, J. and Haswell, R., eds. 1988 Pietermaritzburg 1838–1988: A new portrait of an African City. University of Natal Press, Pietermaritzburg.

MacLean, Charles 1990 The Clan Almanac. Eric Dobby Publishing, Kent.

Russell 1911 Natal — The Land and its Story

ADRIAN KOOPMAN

69Notes and Queries

Notes and Queries

THIRTY YEARS ON

Contributed by Jack FrostTHE great ecclesiastical controversies of the 1860s which tore the Anglican Church in

Natal apart (and even had reverberations further afield), left Pietermaritzburg with two

central city churches and two parishes: St Peter’s (the old Cathedral) in Church Street

and St Saviour’s in Commercial Road.

With the passage of time and the growth of several new generations, the old animosi-

ties disappeared and in 1957 a motion passed by the St Peter’s vestry placed its property

between Church and Longmarket Streets at the disposal of the Diocese of Natal as the

site for a new cathedral. That vision was to become reality in 1981 with the dedication

of the Cathedral of the Holy Nativity, built next to St Peter’s, but not before St Peter’s

and St Saviour’s had formally dissolved as separate parishes and united as a combined

Cathedral parish.

In June 1976 as part of a ceremony which began in St Saviour’s and ended in St

Peter’s (which acted as a cathedral until the new one was completed) the reunited

congregation marched along Commercial Road and up Church Street headed by the

band of the Natal Carbineers. Thirty years later, in 2006, that march was re-enacted by

veterans of the 1976 occasion (including the then Dean, John Forbes, who had flown

up from Cape Town to be part of the commemoration).

The intervening years had brought about huge changes. Young and middle-aged

participants 30 years before were now old and grizzled. The Carbineers’ band was on

parade again, but in an attenuated form with a handful of musicians meeting the party

as it arrived at the new Cathedral. Church Street had been turned into a mall and largely

pedestrianised with only a single lane for traffic. The walkers now proceeded along the

pavement with the parade enlivened by a thief dashing past, hotly pursued. And the

demographics of the Cathedral congregation, in 1976 exclusively white, are completely

different in line with the changing face of the inner city. Sadly, the openness to the city

which was a Leitmotif of the design of the new building and its positioning on the site,

has been completely negated by the growth of crime, necessitating the erection of high

security fences and a single entrance from Longmarket Street.


70 Notes and Queries

BHAMBATHA UPRISING CLEANSING CEREMONY

Contributed by Pat McKenzieOn Reconciliation Day 2006 IFP Leader Mangosuthu Buthelezi unveiled a memorial to

Nkosi Bhambatha Zondi at Ambush Rock, Mpanza, in the presence of KwaZulu-Natal

dignitaries and Zondi clansmen. The Bhambatha Memorial Committee was responsible

for the erection of the memorial.

Also present were Graham Smythe, a descendant of the prime minister of Natal at

the time of the Uprising and John McKenzie youngest grandson of Sir Duncan Mc-

Kenzie, who led the colonial forces. Part of the proceedings was a traditional cleans-

ing ceremony in which Nkosi Sakhi Zondi of Keate’s Drift, Graham Smythe and John

McKenzie washed their hands in a bowl of water as a token of reconciliation. The bowl

was handed to them by a young woman Mazethu Zondi. A flock of pigeons symbolising

peace was released.

DINUZULU STATUE

Contributed by Bill BizleyHeritage month, 2007, was supposed to

see the unveiling of the latest in the series

of Amafa-inspired sculptures, the striking

3,4 metre statue of King Dinuzulu. It

will be positioned in Durban at the park

ground between Berea Road and Warwick

Avenue, next to the statue of Louis Botha.

It was Botha who ordered the release of

the monarch two years after he had been

imprisoned for treason at the time of the

Bhambatha Rebellion. (The narrative

favours a somewhat anti-British perspective,

but Dinuzulu’s strangely British uniform

plus helmet — which, in the sculpture, he

carries in his hand — was insisted on in

the original Amafa tender.) The pairing of

the two statues is in accord with Amafa’s

policy of balancing historic memory, and

is thus in keeping with the monuments it

commissioned at Isandlwana and Rorke’s

Drift.

The Dinuzulu plinth is to be encircled with ten story panels, each relating to an

episode in the king’s life. Sculptor Peter Hall, who devised and sculpted the Pot with

Horns motif in the eMakhosini valley (where Dinuzulu is buried), says that he found

this latest statue to be his most challenging project yet. Sculpting took five months; and

the actual casting (by Kim Goodwin at Lidgetton) another five. Under the direction of

Amafa’s chairman Arthur Königkrämer, the artworks commissioned by the body have

71Notes and Queries

certainly been completed in record time. Kim Goodwin tells me that the atmosphere in

his foundry, while he and his team were working on the huge Dinuzulu piece, was quite

haunting, his Zulu co-workers looking on with awe as their revered ancestor gradually

reached ceiling height before them.

In keeping with the policy of achieving cultural balance in the project, Amafa ap-

pointed journeyman and assistant Mondli Ndanda for the 10-month term of the comple-

tion of the work. In a sense Ndanda had to learn a new mind-set. While traditional Zulu

sculpture in wood lasts well indoors, there has to be a durable substance like bronze for

the sculpting of outdoor figures. Only ‘western’ technology has the foundry techniques

that can accomplish this. Mondli was taken on board to become, as it were, au fait with a ‘foreign’ technology. He has proved to be a most willing student, and indeed

has subsequently submitted a piece of his own to the tendering board of a centre of

learning in Durban.

Peter Hall, who is more immediately famous for his miniatures, the shoe-maker

gnomes outside Groundcover Shoes, says that he studied many photos and even prose

descriptions of King Dinuzulu before he started work. While he considers it to be his

finest piece yet, he is disappointed that — perhaps because of Amafa’s succession of

administrators — his striking piece at Rorke’s Drift, where a bronze leopard lies atop a

pile of shields, has never been officially unveiled.

DURBAN CONNECTIONS WITH BLOOMSBURY

Contributed by Brian SpencerIn the diaries of Virginia Woolf there are references in both text and footnotes to Alice

MacGregor Ritchie (b. Durban 1897 – d. London 1941).

From the text one learns that Alice developed from an employee of Hogarth Press,

whose praise of Virginia’s Orlando was suspected of being ‘in gratitude for our £20’ to

a friend whose comments were appreciated.

From the notes one learns that Alice was born in Natal, studied at Newnham Col-

lege, Cambridge, was a travelling representative for the Hogarth Press from 1928

– c.1936 and then became editor of International women’s news, a journal produced by

the International Alliance for Suffrage and Equal Citizenship. She later worked in the

League of Nations’ Secretariat in Geneva. She had two novels, The peacemakers (1928)

and Occupied territory (1930) published by Hogarth Press. In 1948 Hogarth Press also

published her The treasure of Li-Po, with illustrations by her sister.

It was through Alice that her sister Marjorie Tulip Ritchie (b. Durban 1902 – d.

England, c. 1995) met the Woolfs. Marjorie, known as Trekkie, was an artist and il-

lustrator who had studied at the Slade. She was commissioned by the Woolfs to design

dust-jackets for a number of books including Virginia Sackville West’s All passion spent (1931).

In 1934 Trekkie married Ian Parsons who was employed by the publishing firm Chatto

& Windus. At the outbreak of war he joined the RAF, and Trekkie the fire service. Later

she worked as a land girl and then for Intelligence.

Their London home was in Victoria Square. After Virginia Woolf’s death in 1941

they had Leonard Woolf as a neighbour. With Trekkie and Leonard’s acquaintance in

72 Notes and Queries

the thirties, and their mourning over the deaths in the same year of Alice and Virginia,

the Parsons and Leonard became firm friends, with the Parsons relinquishing their house

and sharing Leonard’s.

Leonard became devoted to Trekkie. Their correspondence has been published as

Leonard Woolf and Trekkie Parsons: love letters 1941 – 1969 (Chatto & Windus, 2001).

When Leonard died in 1969 he left the bulk of his estate, including Monk’s House, the

Woolfs’ home in Rodmell, Sussex, to Trekkie. She presented the latter to the University

of Sussex. It is now run by the National Trust and is open to the public.

(Acknowledgement to Matthew Marwick for Internet research.)

MACRORIE LETTERS RETURN TO `MARITZBURG’

Contributed by Sylvia VietzenThe Macrorie House Museum in Pietermaritzburg has received an unexpected gift. It is

a collection of letters written by members of the Macrorie family over the years 1889

to 1891 while they were living at ‘South Hill’, the old name of the house which is now

the museum. Most of the letters are from Mrs Agnes Macrorie, wife of Bishop William

Kenneth Macrorie, to their eldest daughter, Marion Acland and her husband Frank

who lived in Cheyne Gardens, London. There were also some from the bishop and the

other Macrorie daughters, Mildred and Elsie. How the letters survived, were found and

returned to the home from which they were written is a remarkable story.

Early in 2006 the Curator of the Museum, Mrs Marigold Rei, received a letter from

Miss Jane Cooke of Bristol, England. She had been clearing out a cellar in the home

of her late brother-in-law in Hastings in the south of England and recognised that a

bundle of letters on the verge of being thrown away could be of interest. She took the

letters home to Bristol, sorted them, ploughed through the Victorian script and noted the

recurring name ‘Macrorie’. Having never heard of it before, she looked on the Internet

and traced the Macrorie House Museum. She was so fascinated by her find that she

transcribed the letters and sent an e-mail copy to Marigold Rei and said she would like

to travel to Pietermaritzburg and personally present the letters to the Museum. This she

did at a well-attended luncheon held in her honour at the Macrorie House Museum on

Saturday, 19 May 2007.

It would seem that Jane Cooke’s brother-in-law had a sister, Helen, who had been

companion/housekeeper to Clemence Margaret Acland, Marion Acland’s daughter and

the Macrories’ granddaughter. When Helen died her belongings came to her brother,

including the letters. There they remained in somewhat disorganised storage until the

vigorous and enthusiastic initiative taken by Miss Cooke. After all, she had never

travelled south of the Equator before; but her courage was rewarded with two weeks in

KwaZulu-Natal during which she was able to trace the names, events, places and activi-

ties mentioned by the Macrories in the letters, even to travelling on the old main line train

between Kloof and Inchanga. She explored the nooks and crannies of old Maritzburg,

including the sites of Scott’s Theatre and the Theatre Royal. She visited the Cathedral of

the Holy Nativity, St Peter’s Old Cathedral and the site of St Saviour’s Cathedral, giving

context to the Colenso controversy and Macrorie’s tenure as ‘Bishop of Maritzburg’.

She was also able to visit Isandlwana and Rorke’s Drift, the Berg, Richmond and Byrne

73Notes and Queries

as well as read the letters of Basil Macrorie already in the Museum.

The newly-acquired letters themselves await further archival and historical atten-

tion. They are largely of a domestic nature with family news predominating. However,

they do throw intimate and very candid light on Anglican Church personalities — as

could be expected from the Bishop of Maritzburg and his wife. They bring the Macro-

rie home to life and describe vividly its visitors and its comings and goings, including

the bishop’s travels through his diocese. They offer an insight into the social life of

Victorian Maritzburg. They are not short of gossip and are especially revealing of the

fashion and frivolities of the young Macrories: Basil, Mildred and Elsie. The younger

sons were in England, Arthur as a naval cadet and Theodore at school, adding much

newsworthy responsibility for Marion Acland with her own rapidly increasing family.

Of special interest to the Museum is Mrs Macrorie’s detailed commentary on running

the household and garden, not least her perspectives on domestic staff — cooks, carriage

drivers, coachmen, grooms and retainers — all part and parcel of privileged colonial

family life.

There is food for thought here for keepers of museums and writers of history aim-

ing to give meaning to colonial Natal in present-day Kwazulu-Natal. Macrorie House

Museum is grateful for its good fortune. And it is extremely grateful that the letters

were discovered by so enterprising a person as Jane Cooke.

NATAL FOUNDATION SCHOLARSHIP

Contributed by Pat McKenzie

The Natal Society Foundation has awarded a scholarship to Ian Kiepiel who is a

registered M.Sc. student with the University of KwaZulu-Natal. He is conducting

research into the pollination biology and the breeding system of the charismatic plant

genus Clivia and is seeking to understand its reproductive biology. The genus is well

known in horticulture but poorly studied in its natural environment.

In announcing the award the trustees emphasise that the Foundation as an educational

trust is carrying out its object, which is the promotion and general study of the arts,

science, literature and philosophy.

74 Obituaries

Obituaries

David Grey Rattray (1958–2007)An enduring memory I have is of a

youthful David Rattray, eagerly bent on

luring tourists to his newly-established

Lodge above Fugitives’ Drift, running

helter-skelter along the hazardous

Fugitives’ trail from Isandlwana to

welcome a fresh party of visitors to

the Lodge. This action epitomises the

energy, determination, commitment

and enthusiasm which characterised

his approach to his life and work. His

untimely and senseless murder, at the

age of only 48, by intruders to his now

famous Fugitives’ Lodge, brought a tragic end to the life of this remarkably talented

man.

David Grey Rattray was born on 6 September 1958 in Johannesburg. Educated at St

Alban’s College in Pretoria, he went on to the University of Natal in Pietermaritzburg

to read entomology, graduating in 1982.

His interest in the history of the Zulu people was kindled by his childhood visits to

the battlefields with his father Peter, a former lawyer, and discussions with legendary

pioneer farmers like George Buntting. More importantly, his contact with Zulu inhabit-

ants in the areas close to Fugitives’ Drift and Isandlwana, armed with their oral evidence

of the battles, enthralled and fascinated him. With the help of his lifelong friend and

mentor, Mzunjani ‘Satchmo’ Mpanza, he became a fluent Zulu linguist.

In the 1960s, his father had bought 10 000 acres of land on the banks of the Mzin-

yathi (Buffalo) river, part of which was above Sothondose’s, or (as it was then known),

Fugitives’ Drift, across which British survivors of the Isandlwana battle had fled.

After graduating, Rattray took up the position of manager of Mala Mala game reserve

but was soon lured by investors to Namibia where he was tasked with establishing a new

game reserve. Opportunity turned to tragedy when his young son was killed in a freak

accident and the investors vanished leaving David to pick up the pieces. Having paid

off the staff of the reserve, David, now aged 30, his wife Nicky, and remaining child,

all but penniless, moved to the remote farm on the Mzinyathi river.

David Rattray


75Obituaries

In its original state, the guest house had been the home of John Potgieter and family.

Rattray’s mother Gillian, a well-known writer and artist, had immortalised ‘Mr Pot’ in

her award-winning book The Springing of the Year. During his early days on the farm,

when he was still honing his rhetorical skills and refining his interpretations of the battles

of the Anglo-Zulu War, Rattray came under the scrutiny of local academic historians,

some of whom were somewhat scathing of what they perceived as his ‘simplistic’ ap-

proach to the events he was so eloquently describing. Rattray remained undismayed

and determined as an untrained historian to make his mark in the competitive arena of

interpreters and narrators of the military campaigns in the KwaZulu-Natal region. It was

not too long before he was able to marry his impressive knowledge of oral testimony

with extensive reading of written sources and fieldwork on site. Increasingly, he began

to collaborate with academics and more popular authors of military history to investigate

some of the intriguing mysteries clouding the actions of participants in the conflicts.

I recall spending a stimulating morning with him some way along the Fugitives’ trail,

close to Isandlwana, where we explored his tentative theory that some of the officers

who had hastily left the battlefield on horseback had deserted the ordinary ranks leaving

them unsupervised to erect hastily-formed defensive lines. He based this assertion not

only on oral and written evidence, but also on a meticulous study of the terrain and the

position of stone redoubts and graves along the trail towards the Mzinyathi river. This

exercise in historical interpretation is testimony to his growing sophistication in the

field of historical analysis. As to the soundness of his theory, we came to no conclusion

on that day.

Rattray is, however, remembered more (perhaps unjustifiably) for his incomparable

skills as a dramatic narrator of battles than for his competence as a serious historian. He

was often to be found on the battlefield, clutching his beloved knobkerrie, surrounded

by enthralled visitors, dramatising events with war cries, songs, shouts and screams,

softened in a lower tone of voice by his empathetic appreciation of the horrors of war

and man’s inhumanity in the face of combat. Few who listened to him did not shed tears.

He spoke, too, of valour and of pride and the love that can exist between men. He spoke

of respect for those who had died on the battlefields, respect for our elders and for each

other. Significantly, over the years his presentations were also attended by 94 generals

and two field marshals, many of whom it is said were similarly reduced to tears.

David enjoyed colouring his descriptions of conflict with anecdotes gleaned from

both oral and written sources. I recall how delighted he was, aided by his entomological

background, to read of the exploits of Lieutenant Henry Harford, who, fighting for the

British at the attack on Sihayo’s stronghold prior to the Isandlwana battle, dropped to

his knees as the action began. His comrades feared for his life but he had only dropped

to his hands and knees to transfer a rare beetle into a tin box! Rattrays’s descriptions

were richly enhanced by anecdotes such as this one.

Indeed it was David’s ability to empathise with the personalities who fought in

military conflicts which added a vital dimension to his lively presentations. These

insights enabled him to place the military campaigns he described in the wider context

of his vision of the future of South Africa in which an understanding of bitterness and

conflict could be woven into a cord to bind people together.

During his early years at the Lodge, David spent many hours, accompanied by his

Zulu friends, combing the terrain in the vicinity of Isandlwana, Rorke’s and Fugitives’

76 Obituaries

Drifts, to challenge the prevailing interpretations of the battles and to search for aban-

doned or lost relics. He was particularly excited when an old Zulu informed him of an

oral tradition which claimed that a great number of British firearms, uniforms and other

items had, soon after the Isandlwana battle, been hidden in a cave near Fugitives’ Drift.

Even though the cave was not located, David’s infectious excitement at the possibility

of finding such treasure never abated.

As Rattray’s fame as an incomparable raconteur spread, visitors from far afield began

to visit Fugitives’ Drift Lodge. Many left so moved and inspired, that they returned again

and again to partake of the intellectual and emotional stimulation provided by Rattray’s

tours. Evenings spent enjoying Nicky’s superb meals were invariably followed by

animated discussion with the Rattray family about topics as diverse as fishing, snakes,

insects, birds, trees, ecology and of course, history!

Rattray welcomed many dignitaries and influential people to his farm (the Lodge

was now incorporated into a game farm), including the Duke of Edinburgh, the Op-

penheimers, Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi, Ian Player, Cyril Ramaphosa and Zulu King

Goodwill Zwelithini, with whom he established a close friendship.

In 1997 Rattray met the Prince of Wales when Charles and his two sons took a short

holiday at the Lodge following the death of Diana, Princess of Wales. Rattray was sub-

sequently invited to Balmoral as a guest of the Prince. Rattray also became involved in

outreach projects amongst the local communities and was supported by Prince Charles

in fundraising efforts to modernise a local school.

In the United Kingdom, Rattray addressed capacity audiences at the Royal Geo-

graphical Society on a number of occasions and in 1999 was honoured by that society

by the Ness award in recognition of his work in widening popular understanding of Zulu

culture in southern Africa. The following year he delivered the inaugural lecture in the

Laurens van der Post memorial lecture series at St James’s Palace. In 2002 he returned

to London to receive a Tatler travel award for ‘Vision in Tourism’.

Rattray often experienced problems with his vocal cords as a consequence of inces-

sant presentations on the battlefields, yet never considered stopping. Instead, to supple-

ment his on-site presentations, he produced a series of his narrations on tape and CD

which allow enthusiasts to listen to them at leisure. As his confidence and expertise in

his ability to interpret and explain aspects of the Anglo-Zulu War grew, Rattray turned

his attention to writing. His Guidebook to the Anglo-Zulu War Battlefields (in collabora-

tion with Adrian Greaves), was published in 2004 and a second publication, A Soldier Artist in Zululand, was launched shortly after his death.

Rattray leaves his wife Nicky and three sons, Douglas, Andrew and Peter. His legacy

will live on, for his family have vowed to continue his work at Fugitives’ Drift Lodge

where tour guides, expertly trained in the style of presentation David made famous, still

welcome visitors. Indeed, instead of his demise sounding the death knell of Rattray’s

endeavours, the famous Lodge has recently become a place of pilgrimage attracting

those who remember or have heard of the gentle, caring man who with his knobkerrie

aloft and his eyes fixed on the battlefield, passionately recounted tales of the exploits

of men locked in conflict.

JEFF MATHEWS

77Obituaries

Vishwaprea Suparsad (1948–2006)Given the scope, complexity and duration of the liberation

struggle, it has, inevitably, produced its unsung heroes and

heroines. But, also, as new people have surged into our

movement, specially recently, we have tended to ignore

our tried-and-tested own. Of course, the new generation

of activists cannot be clones of the ‘struggle generation’,

but there has to be a measure of continuity. There has

to, at least, be an overlap of core values and goals. But,

sadly, the links of past and present are beginning to fray.

The recent, untimely death of the relatively unknown 57-

year-old Pietermaritzburg-born struggle veteran, raises

these and related issues.

Quiet, sturdy, sensitive, humane, humble, self-effacing, brave ‘Vish’ Suparsad

made a significant contribution to the struggle against apartheid, both in the legal mass

movement and the underground political and military structures. But unlike so many

of us, he had no culture of entitlement. He asked for nothing in return; and, quietly,

continued to contribute to the consolidation of our democracy. As the traditional values

of the ANC-led movement begin to fade, we need to extol the contribution of Suparsad

and others like him.

Suparsad was born in Plessislaer on December 10, 1948, the youngest of eight

children of the respected Dookran family. He was influenced by his parents who be-

came part of the progressive reform tradition in Hinduism led by Swami Dayanand,

the founder of the Arya Samaj novement. His mother, Ma Dookran as she became

known, was in later years often used by the NIC (Natal Indian Congress) as a symbol

of opposition to apartheid.

In an interview with academics Suparsad was very nostalgic about his childhood

experiences in Plessislaer, especially the proximity with Africans and the inter-racial

contact. In 1965, Indians were forcibly removed from Plessislaer — which left a deep

impression. In 1966, he took part in a demonstration against Republic Day at Woodlands

High School.

He qualified as a teacher but left for England and Canada to further his studies. He

returned shortly after the outbreak of the June 1976 student revolts. Soon thereafter,

he met Pravin Gordhan, the current South African Revenue Service Commissioner,

who was a major influence on him. ‘It was a two-way process,’ says Gordhan. ‘He

also influenced me. He had so many strengths, after all.’ The two developed a lifelong

friendship and comradeship.

Among others, they were influential in shaping a new approach to mass organisation

which creatively linked people’s ‘bread-and-butter’ concerns, such as water, electricity,

rents and housing to the broader goal of overthrowing apartheid. As part of an overall

strategy, they also stressed the need for considerable flexibility of tactics and organisa-

tional forms that took into account the differing conditions between and within the

different racial communities.

Suparsad worked as a community worker at the Tongaat Child Welfare Society

from 1977 to 1980. He established the Tongaat Youth Group and worked closely with

Vishwaprea Suparsad

78 Obituaries

the Tongaat Civic Association, especially in its links with the struggles in neighbour-

ing Hambanathi. He was active in the NIC and also kept in touch with organisations

in Pietermaritzburg.

In 1980 he moved to Durban to establish a CRU (Community Research Unit), which

gave research, organisational and other support to community organisations, including

the Durban Housing Action Committee and the Joint Rent Action Committee. He also

assisted trade union, cultural, religious and other organisations. Together with others,

he played a role in the launch of the UDF (United Democratic Front).

For all his prodigious legal activities, he was also a key underground operative for

both the ANC and SACP. In 1979 he established contact with the ANC in Swaziland

and regularly crossed the borders to ferry arms, literature, equipment and operatives.

In 1985 he underwent a short training course in intelligence in East Germany. With the

police hot on his heels, he largely disappeared into the underground from 1986, and

played a key role in Operation Vula. In 1989 he married Vidhu Vedalankar, an activist,

in a small ‘underground’ wedding. Their close and formidable partnership bore a son,

Viraj, now 15.

After the ANC’s unbanning he served in various roles, including in local govern-

ment transformation, housing, development of small sugar farmers, co-operatives and

micro-financing. His very wide range of activities made an impact on people from all

walks of life.

His well-attended memorial service in the Durban City Hall was addressed by 12

people from very different spheres, including KwaZulu-Natal Premier Sbu Ndebele

who described him as a ‘hero and a revolutionary who lived a noble life and embodied

all that we think a dedicated activist should be’.

Suparsad was a rare combination of mass activist, underground operative, theo-

retician, strategist, organiser and counsellor. More than his contribution, it was his

character and personality that impacted on everbody. He was fundamentally kind and

he was humane to the core. He had a quiet, calming presence. Of course, he must have

had his weaknesses — but no one knows of them. There was not an ill-word spoken of

him, surely rare in politics!

Everybody speaks about his empathy. He seemed to listen to people with his very

soul. SACP Gauteng Secretary, Vishwas Satgar, Suparsad’s nephew, says: ‘He had the

capacity to sit quietly through a conversation. But as you shared with him, he genu-

inely placed himself in your life. It was his nodding head, his pensive brow, his way of

sometimes repeating words you used that told you this. But more than anything it was

his response — you knew he’d understood everything you’d said.’

In these trying times in our movement, it is vital that we focus on the lives of Oliver

Tambo, Walter Sisulu, Nelson Mandela, Govan Mbeki and others like them. But these

are giants — and difficult to emulate. Hence the importance of also focusing on the

Suparsads of our movement who are more accessible — and there are many of them.

We should acknowledge them before they die.

YUNUS CARRIM

(With acknowledegement to The Witness)

79Obituaries

Herbert Ian Behrmann (1918–2006)Professor Herbert Ian Behrmann, a founding

member of the Faculty of Agriculture at the

University of Natal, died at the age of 88, after

being hit by a bus on the last Friday afternoon of

2006. A resident of Rosewood Estate retirement

centre in Jabu Ndlovu (Loop) Street, he had spent

the day writing letters and was on his way to post

them when the accident happened.

Behrmann’s death severs one of the last remain-

ing personal links with the early days of the Faculty

of Agriculture of the University of Natal. When he

joined as a lecturer in Agricultural Economics in

1948, the faculty was housed in the old Oribi Mili-

tary Hospital. Its library consisted of 20 volumes

on one shelf, with not a single book on agricultural

economics among them.

Born in Johannesburg, the son of a magistrate, Behrmann was educated at Maritz-

burg College, matriculating in 1935. He completed his B.Sc. (Agric) at the University

of Pretoria in 1939 and his Master’s degree two years later. Three of the presidents of

the SRC in his undergraduate years became prominent South Africans: Hilgard Muller,

Anton Rupert and Albert Geyser.

For his Master’s thesis he did a survey of dairy farms near Johannesburg. He drafted

a questionnaire and his supervisor, Professor F.R. Tomlinson, suggested that he start with

an English-speaking farmer. Wilkinson and Craig, two farmers in partnership, seemed

a good bet. He was dropped off at Wilkinson’s home. However, Wilkinson proved to

sport a long beard and speak not a word of English, so the interview had to be conducted

and the questionnaire filled in entirely in Afrikaans. The session ended with Wilkinson

asking, ‘Is jy a lid van die Ossewa Brandwag?’ Tomlinson was delighted that his student

had passed this test of bilingualism.

When in 1942 Behrmann volunteered for military service he was refused permission

by the Department of Agriculture, for which he then worked as a marketing officer, an

assistant professional officer and a lecturer in agricultural economics and farm accounting

at Potchefstroom, Boschetto and Cedara Colleges of Agriculture successively.

Behrmann was to spend 35 years at the University of Natal: as lecturer in Agricultural

Economics from 1948 to 1956, as senior lecturer from 1956 to 1960 and as professor

from 1960 until his retirement at the end of 1983. His particular fields of interest were

agricultural development, farm management and production economics, the history of

agriculture and farm appraisal, but at one time or another he lectured in most courses

offered by the department.

Behrmann’s Ph.D. thesis (1960), ‘The Economics of Sugar Cane Production’, was

recognised by the award of its Founders’ Medal and Prize by the Economic Society

of South Africa. It was, said the society, ‘noteworthy for the application of economic

principles and ingenious statistical sampling methods to one of South Africa’s major

industries’. Behrmann concluded that there was an over-abundance of labour on the

Herbert Ian Behrmann

80 Obituaries

average sugar cane farm and a sad lack of expenditure on the three fundamentals: ma-

chinery, fertiliser and management. Up to the time of his retirement 23 years later, he

was one of only three agricultural economists to have won that award.

Behrmann served as vice-chairman and then chairman of the Economic Society of

South Africa, as president of the Agricultural Economics Association of South Africa

and president of the Agricultural Scientific Association of Natal. He was chosen four

times to represent South Africa at the conferences of the International Association of

Agricultural Economists. The first was in the USSR in 1970, which he was unable to

attend due to visa difficulties. In 1973 he got to the conference at São Paulo in Brazil

and chaired a special group session. In 1979 he was able to attend at Banff, Canada,

but in 1982 when the conference was held in Indonesia, visa problems again kept him

at home and his paper was read in his absence.

Behrmann represented the universities of Pretoria and Natal at hockey, was active

in the administration of swimming and remained an active tennis player until the age

of 84. He was a member of the Genealogical Society and traced the history of his fam-

ily back into the 19th century. He was a regular participant in the activities of Birdlife

KZN Midlands and a faithful churchman, a member of St Alphege’s Church at which

his memorial service took place. His wife René predeceased him by some years. He

was survived by his three children, four grandsons and a granddaughter.

JACK FROST

Susarah Johanna Truter (1910 – 2007)In the field of Agriculture it is rare that a woman

achieves prominence as an academic. Yet it is probably

true to say that Professor Truter who, at the age of

97, passed away in Pietermaritzburg, herself, and

through the graduates she trained, produced more plant

pathologists and mycologists than any other in South

Africa. With her passing, an era in this field in South

Africa comes to an end.

She was born on a farm in Aliwal North, and her

love for nature that characterised her life, clearly had

its roots there. In 1931 she obtained her B.Sc. degree,

majoring in Botany and Zoology from Grey University

College in Bloemfontein and was awarded the Junior

Captain Scott Medal for achieving the top marks in

Zoology. She then acquired a Diploma in Education

and for five years taught Biology at Durban Girls’

College to repay, as she later said, her considerable

student loan. In 1939 she again demonstrated her academic prowess by being awarded

a Master’s degree in Mycology, cum laude, by the University of Stellenbosch.

She then applied for an overseas scholarship under the auspices of the cultural agree-

ment between South Africa and Holland and became the first woman student to gain

admission to this programme. So in 1939 Susarah Truter went to Het Willie Commelin

Professor Truter

81Obituaries

Scholten Phytopathologisch Instituut in Baarn, in the Netherlands, and registered for

a Ph.D. degree with, as her supervisor, Professor Johanna Westerdijk (the first woman

professor in the Netherlands). The outbreak of World War 2 compelled her to remain

in Holland for a total of eight years and, as a South African, she was even interned by

the Nazis for four months. She always considered herself very fortunate that she was

released the day before the internees were transported to Germany.

On 10 July 1947 she was awarded her Ph.D. degree by the University of Utrecht

after defending her thesis on the die-back of a European tree, the alder, and then was

able to return to her beloved South Africa on the Dutch liner, Oranjefontein. She always

retained close contact with her mentor, Professor Westerdijk, who later, in 1953, visited

South Africa for an extended holiday.

On her return to South Africa in 1947, Dr Truter was appointed as plant pathologist

at the Western Province Fruit Research Laboratories at Stellenbosch and it was there

that, in 1949, she was persuaded by the Secretary for Agriculture to take up the post of

Senior Lecturer in Plant Pathology in the brand-new Faculty of Agriculture at the Uni-

versity of Natal. When she arrived in Pietermaritzburg that faculty was housed in Oribi

village, so she was offered the old war hospital dispensary from which she proceeded

to fabricate her sterile student practical laboratory!

In 1956 she was promoted to the new chair of Plant Pathology and Microbiology at

the University of Natal, her elevation being approved by the Minister of Agriculture,

as happened in those days.

During 1961–62 her male colleagues elected her to the position of Dean of the Faculty

of Agriculture and in doing so made her the first female Dean in a faculty of agriculture

in the world. This led to an entry in the Guinness Book of Records.

On 30 June 1976 Professor Truter retired, leaving behind her a department that

had grown to five academic staff members and a number of technicians and laboratory

assistants.

What was she like to those who knew her? She was a formidable, no-nonsense

woman, even at 97, yet behind the tough facade there was kindness and considerateness:

a little bouquet would arrive on a birthday, or a sympathetic telephone call came when

life had dealt a blow. She was meticulous in all she did and exacted that from those who

worked with, or studied under, her. She was a superb organiser, a very efficient adminis-

trator, and unstintingly gave of her time, devoting many of her evenings and weekends

to assisting those she supervised with thesis drafts or with the writing of articles.

She remained unmarried and during her working life devoted all her time and tire-

less energy to ‘her department’, ‘her staff’ and ‘her students’. Thereafter, her retirement

was devoted to her family, her many friends, the children of her friends, her garden, her

pets and the droves of birds of various types that descended on the feeding place in her

garden at the appropriate time every day.

She leaves a great void, but clearly her legacy lives on especially through the many

students she has produced, many of whom now find themselves in senior positions

throughout the world. She was a very important and well-loved person in our lives,

certainly in mine. Requiescat in pace!

FRITS H.J. RIJKENBERG

82 Obituaries

John de Villiers (1934–2007)(Address at Professor De Villier’s memorial service)We are gathered here today to honour the memory

of John Matthew de Villiers, who died on Sunday

April 29th after a brief illness. Assembled here are

John’s widow, Valerie, and their son Matthew and

his wife Elspeth, and other relatives and friends.

Oliver, their second son, is not here: lying in a coma,

as he has been for seven years, he is undergoing his

own special grief.

We are here to offer our sympathy to the close

family, to the wider family, and to all those who

mourn John’s fairly sudden death.

This speech in honour of John has been com-

piled in Pietermaritzburg, where John and his

family spent many years. We have had input from

members of the family and from a number of John

and Valerie’s friends and ex-colleagues. All of the

many e-mails and phone-calls that have flowed in

have shown the very deep affection and admiration

which people had for John.

Among the many things to be said about him as a person (and everyone has made

this point) is that he was remarkably pleasant, generous and gentle — a true gentle-

man in every sense — but that he was also reticent and humble, never a person to push

himself forward. Indeed some of our contributors said that, as John was often so quiet,

in some respects they knew more about Valerie than they did about him! He was also

a deeply committed family man, devoted to his wife, his sons, and his grandchildren,

Henry, Missy and Bella. He and Valerie would have celebrated their golden wedding

next February.

But of course he was also a highly intelligent person and a profound thinker and

worker in the areas of the intellectual life in which he chose to operate. He was in all

his intellectual and creative work original, probing, energetic: a perfectionist, a person

who did things fully and properly, and carried them through to their conclusion.

A remarkable person like John is a very great gift to the human race. We all feel

that deeply. Those who were closest to John feel it with a painful mixture of grief and

pride.

Some of his great qualities will be illustrated in a brief sketch of his life.

John was born in Graaff-Reinet in December 1934. He went to the Union High School

there, and then did a B.Sc. at the University of Cape Town. In 1957 he was appointed

as a lecturer in Soil Science at the University of Natal in Pietermaritzburg. By then he

had worked at soils and irrigation research in Pretoria and spent time at Delft in the

Netherlands studying the use of aerial photography for the interpretation of soils; this

was part of his work, with others, on the great Tugela Basin project. In 1958 he married

Valerie Werdmuller, an opera singer whom he had met in Pretoria. Not long after that

he achieved his Ph.D. at the University of Natal.

John de Villiers

83Obituaries

John was an extremely distinguished and influential soil scientist. His ex-colleagues

have compiled an impressive list of his research and his publications, and have stressed

that he soon became well known in his field not only nationally but internationally. One

person, who later came to Pietermaritzburg as a lecturer, tells how he sought John out

in 1983, because of his reputation, when John was working at Reading University as a

part of his sabbatical work at Oxford.

Suffice it to say that John was notable especially in the field of soil classification.

A contributor adds: ‘He was also perhaps ahead of his time in terms of his recognising

the environmental impact of mining and the need for adequate rehabilitation measures

to be put in place. His document on the soil materials suitable for rehabilitation and

the subsequent land uses to which the area could be put is still the Bible of the major

mining houses, over 25 years since he wrote it.’ But this is not an academic gather-

ing, so it wouldn’t be appropriate to go into too many details about John’s academic

achievements. They are available for anyone who would like to see them — though

they had to be searched for a bit, as John in his modesty was not the kind of person to

flash his CV around.

Perhaps one might say a little about his movements and activities. He did post-doc-

toral work at the University of Wisconsin. The family moved for some years to what

was then Rhodesia, where he was invited to set up the department and later the faculty

of Agriculture at the University in Salisbury (as it then was). He was recognised for his

achievements by the government. In 1979 he was appointed to the Chair of Soil Science

at his alma mater in Pietermaritzburg. This meant that he had to spend a good deal of time

at his desk, but (as one of our contributors says) ‘He was never a desk man, preferring

the classroom and the field. When in his office he worked from a large conference table

surrounded by papers and reference material. He struggled to delegate, which kept his

two wonderful secretaries very busy following up on him.’ Another contributor tells us

how quietly enthusiastic, hard-working and meticulous but also how relaxed and cheer-

ful he was, especially in the evenings, on these field excursions with staff and students.

On such occasions another important characteristic of his, not mentioned so far, came

strongly to the fore: his lively and often impish sense of humour.

He was admired as a lecturer and as a speaker at scientific congresses, and also ap-

peared on many radio and TV broadcasts in South Africa and abroad. At one point he

represented South Africa on a NASA planning session for satellite photography, and

worked with Werner von Braun and Neil Armstrong. He was disappointed to be prevented

by the then regulations, in the 1980s, from attending a Soils symposium in India, as he

had a great admiration for India. He also served for many years on the editorial board

of Geoderma, one of the top world journals in Soil Science.

As head of department he showed his fairness, his kindness but also the right degree

of firmness. It wasn’t surprising, then, that he later became the Dean of the Faculty of

Agriculture, and that was the position that he held until he retired at the end of 1994.

In those years of being one of the top academics of the University he was invited to

take on other important functions. While the Deputy Vice-Chancellor for the Maritz-

burg campus was absent John acted in his place, and he accompanied him on a study

tour of the United States to pick up ideas for the University’s momentous transition

into the new era.

After his retirement as Dean, what did he do? This is one of the remarkable mo-

84 Obituaries

ments in his life. He decided to become a first-year student, working for a B.A. degree

with an emphasis on Fine Art. Having been a university dignitary, though always a

quiet and unshowy one, he worked beside students more than 40 years younger than

him. One has to ask how many people would have the qualities of character required

to do this. He got on well with staff and students, was enthusiastic as always, and was

of course a very good student. The sudden switch to the Arts was surprising, but not

wholly so. Many people had remarked on his beautiful use of English. Like many other

people, he recognised the other side of his personality, but he had the courage to follow

it through. He focused on Fine Art, and distinguished himself. Members of the staff

of the Visual Arts Centre speak of his quietly passionate dedication and his creativity

as a ceramicist and a sculptor. He did a post-graduate diploma in Fine Art and got an

exceptionally high mark.

One of his striking achievements was something that enabled him to bring together

his allegiances to the Faculties of Agriculture and the Humanities. He created a beautiful

mosaic clock, in delicately muted colours, depicting a breakthrough event in the history

of the Agriculture Faculty, when a Dr Hunter managed to avoid awkward regulations

by importing from England two sheep embryos within the uterus of a rabbit doe. The

rabbit and the sheep embryos are handsomely depicted in the mosaic. John donated the

clock to the Faculty on the occasion of its 50th birthday, in 1998; and there it hangs for

all to see. One of his many motives for producing the work was, incidentally, his feeling

that students had a bad tendency to be unpunctual!

Then seven years ago there occurred another striking event, a tragic one this time.

John and Valerie’s son Oliver had a terrible accident, which left him severely disabled,

in what is called a ‘locked in syndrome’. They decided to leave Pietermaritzburg in order

to be close to Oliver. John’s continuing and totally uncomplaining devotion to Oliver

has been another remarkable sign of his quality as a person. He was able to carry on

with his artistic work, however, and he exhibited in several galleries in the Cape.

One of his ex-colleagues in Soil Science concludes his tribute as follows: ‘John

de Villiers’ roots were in the Karoo. He was among the best to have been nurtured in

South Africa. He knew and loved the African landscape. We can truly celebrate the

knowledge and understanding we have gained from his work.’ One must add too that

he has made his contribution to South African art, and to the lives of everyone who has

had the privilege of knowing him.

Now John has gone from us. We mourn him, and we salute him.

COLIN GARDNER

Ian Frederick Garland 1925–2007Legendary tree planter, renowned conservationist, visionary educationist and reluctant

sugarcane farmer Ian Garland died peacefully in Kloof on Friday 3 August 2007 after

a long illness. He was 82 years old.

His lifetime work of caring for the environment has left a monumental legacy, which

is felt daily far beyond Mtunzini and his beloved Siyaya catchment, and his wisdom and

knowledge continues to be passed on through the Twinstreams Environmental Education

Centre which he founded more than 55 years ago.

85Obituaries

Ian’s love for nature began when as a boy

growing up in the Tongaat area he was bitten

by the ‘botany bug’ and collected butterflies

and studied frogs. By the time he began farm-

ing along the coast south of Mtunzini he was

impassioned by the beauty he found here.

The twin streams of his farm — the

Amanzimnyama and the Siyaya — were a

paradise of swamp forest, papyrus marshes

and water lilies floating on deep, crystal clear

pools. In those days it was possible to canoe

from the confluence of the streams right to

the mouth.

Soon he had made his acquaintance with

the rich diversity of Ongoye Forest and was

part of the pioneering scientific exploration of

Maputaland in the late 1940s. His excitement and boundless enthusiasm at the discoveries

of this wondrous natural heritage led him to found South Africa’s first environmental

education centre at Twinstreams.

But during the 1960s with the intensification of farming and increased pressure on the

land, Ian witnessed the loss of the paradise he had found on his first arrival and his mes-

sage took on an urgency well in advance of the present debate on global warming.

The conservation centre at Mick’s Park was soon transformed into a living labora-

tory visited by international scientists and academics but Ian always understood the

importance of getting the message across to ‘the ordinary folk’ who perhaps didn’t know

the difference between a guava tree and a Cleistanthus schlechteri. He was always available for a walk through the forests he had rehabilitated or

planted and everyone from the Women’s Institute to Mangosuthu Buthelezi and Harry

Oppenheimer visited Twinstreams, heard the message that water is the key to life on

earth and then planted a tree. But the most important lesson that Ian taught — though

he seldom voiced it — was that individuals can make a vital difference. Few left his

presence without being moved by his enthusiasm and commitment and many owe the

joy they experience in a natural environment to the lessons of Twinstreams.

In his lifetime, he estimated that he had planted over 60 000 indigenous trees — not

only on his own farm but wherever he felt the landscape needed a bit of ‘cheering up’.

Mtunzini’s sense of place owes much to Ian’s voluntary tree-planting and guidance.

Ian was recognised in later years for his tremendous ‘lifetime contribution’ to con-

servation and the natural sciences with an honorary M.Sc., two honorary doctorates

and many community awards.

He is survived by his wife and soul-mate of 58 years, Jean, and their five children

Bill, Francie, Peter, Ruth and Jill.

Hamba kahle.

BRUCE HOPWOOD

(With acknowledgements to the Zululand Observer)

Ian Garland

86 Book Reviews and Notices

Book Reviews and Notices

MEMORIES: THE MEMOIRS OF ARCHBISHOP DENIS HURLEY OMI

edited by PADDY KEARNEY.

Pietermaritzburg, Cluster Publications, 2006. 208 pages, illus.

This is a coffee table book in size and in the generous number of photographs but it is

far from being a light picture book. Written in an elegant, scholarly style it nevertheless

reads easily. It is full of interesting ideas and has a decidedly historical slant.

Archbishop Hurley intended to write a full account of his life. He began to collect

material in the late 1980s and started to write seriously after his retirement in 1992. He

hoped to set aside one day a week for the task but once he accepted the post of parish

priest of Emmanuel Cathedral, a large and demanding parish, this became a difficulty. He

wrote when he could but the parish work, endless meetings and frequent trips overseas

as well as his duties as the Chancellor of the University of Natal, a post he held from

1993 to 1998, cut into the available time. His method was to prepare a section and then

dictate into a tape recorder after which his secretary would type it out and give it to him

for revision. The result was a lively and personal account dealing with his childhood,

school days, family events, his decision to study for the priesthood and his departure for

Ireland to study at the OMI novitiate. His interest in history meant that he saw Ireland

and then Italy, where he continued his studies, in terms of the events taking place in

the late 1930s and in particular Mussolini and his relations with Hitler, and even more

the effects on the Catholic Church of the time. He was ordained in Rome in July 1939

and, when Mussolini showed signs of taking his country into the war on the Nazi side

in May 1940, all foreigners were advised to leave and Hurley and his colleagues were

able to reach England via France and to return to South Africa on the mail boat.

Hurley returned to Durban and was appointed curate to Father Leo Sormany at Em-

manuel Cathedral. Writing of this period and of Natal in the 1920s and 1930s he refers

to the serious consequences of the economic depression on ordinary people trying to

support a family on little money and nowhere to turn for help. He also describes the

Catholic Church of his youth and the strict discipline demanded, which will bring back

vivid memories for older readers.


87Book Reviews and Notices

After three years as a curate at the Cathedral, Hurley was appointed superior of the

Oblate seminary at Cleland. In 1946 Bishop Henri Delalle resigned after over forty

years as bishop and Hurley was appointed to succeed him. He was 31 years of age and

the youngest bishop in the world at the time; four years later he became the youngest

archbishop.

The year 1947 was an eventful one for Denis Hurley. He was ordained bishop during

the inaugural meeting of the Conference of Bishops that was to become the Southern

African Catholic Bishops’ Conference in which he played such a prominent role. It was

also the year of the Royal visit and he attended several of the events connected with it.

He had also to take over the running of the large diocese and to visit every mission and

parish. He was young, energetic and enthusiastic and took most of these duties in his

stride. One of his regrets, often mentioned in later life, was that he had not had the op-

portunity to spend time on a rural mission in order to learn to speak isiZulu really well.

He did learn to speak it tolerably well but did not achieve the command of the language

that Father Howard St George and other mission priests had acquired.

The 1950s brought political worries as the Bantu Education Act of 1953 empowered

the Nationalist government to take over mission schools receiving a state subsidy. The

Catholic Church decided to fight this because most of its evangelisation efforts were

centred around the schools. For the next four years major efforts were made to raise

money in and outside South Africa to enable the Catholic schools to continue and all the

bishops were active in this project. It is interesting to read in Hurley’s correspondence

that he personally acknowledged all the donations sent to him, many for as little as five

shillings. There were many disputes between Christian churches and the Verwoerd

government over the next 30 years and Hurley was prominent in his public statements

on racial injustice and apartheid.

The Second Vatican Council was, for Hurley, the most exciting event of his life and

he attended all the sessions and took an active part in the work of the Council from

the first session in 1962 to the final session in 1965. In 2003 he decided to publish his

letters and articles written from Rome during the council because he did not want the

significance of the Council to be lost on the generations born after 1965. He handed the

manuscript to the publishers shortly before his unexpected death and it was published as

Vatican II: keeping the dream alive. The present volume of memoirs deals with Vatican

II in chapter 13 while the implementation of the Council’s decisions in the following

chapter was written by the editor.

Memories is a fascinating book which will bring back memories to many older

readers and interest young people for whom much of this will be new. It is written with

touches of humour and a great deal of insight into the troubled period of the 1970s and

1980s. It leaves one with a personal view of a humble, good and thoughtful man of God

whose life was filled with activity and interest.

JOY BRAIN


WILD HERITAGE KWAZULU-NATAL

by PHILIP & INGRID VAN DEN BERG, HEINRICH VAN DEN BERG

Pietermaritzburg: HPH Publishing, 2006. 208 pages. Standard Edition, R299.

ISBN: 0-620-36679-6.

Wild Heritage KwaZulu-Natal is unashamedly of the coffee table genre of publications,

and as such it is not the usual type of book reviewed by Natalia. To borrow a cliché from

the world of advertising, however, this is a coffee table work which is ‘so much more’

than the usual somewhat superficial compilation of photographs and text put together

to appeal to souvenir hunting tourists. Natalia is also dedicated to recording all that is

significant in the province of KwaZulu-Natal, and it is timely to remind ourselves of

the crucial role played by our increasingly fragile and threatened natural environment

in shaping the life of the people of this province.

Wild Heritage warrants a serious review because it treats the environment of Kwa-

Zulu-Natal in a serious and thought provoking fashion. This work is quite possibly

unique in being the only single-volume photographic study to capture all the essential

ecological variations found across the province, from the Drakensberg escarpment to

the Indian Ocean and all that lies in between — the grasslands, bushveld, forests and

wetlands. The authors, highly respected former teachers and lecturers, have sought to

explain and educate a wider audience as to the complex interactions of geology and

climate which have contributed to the province having such an abundance of life in all

its varied forms.

The photographs, many of which are of award-winning standard, are obviously the

main selling point in this publication, and the selection demonstrates the real passion

the authors, a family team of husband, wife and son, have for their subject matter and

in portraying the aesthetic beauty of our environment. They have included photographic

studies which are reminiscent of portraiture together with highly dramatic action shots

of wild animals found in both flight and fight situations. While the stunning colours

and close up images will captivate, I suspect that many older readers might find the

extremely small font used for the picture captions something of an obstacle to the full

enjoyment of this work. While on a critical note, the maps which locate each of the dif-

ferent vegetation types in the province are also very small. If a map is worth including,

it should at least be of a functional size.

With an eye to the use of this text in schools, the authors have included generous

coverage of the two world heritage sites that are located in KwaZulu-Natal — the

uKhahlamba-Drakensberg Park and the Greater St Lucia Wetland Park, each of which is

given an entire chapter. The impact of man and human settlement on both these natural

treasures is clearly spelt out without the tone of the writing ever becoming strident or

dogmatic. Giving Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife an entire chapter will also ensure that this

publication is given the attention it deserves at parks and conservation sites.

MARK STEELE


THE BERG: FROM SAN TO SUBURBIA

TRACKS IN A MOUNTAIN RANGE, by JOHN WRIGHT AND ARON MAZEL,

Johannesburg: Wits University Press, 2007. 155p. illus. ISBN: 978-1-86814-409-9

Historian John Wright and his archaeologist friend, Aron Mazel, had been talking for

years about teaming up to do a book on the Drakensberg. ‘Talking about writing a history

of the Berg was one thing; actually doing it was another,’ says Wright.

Plus, other things tended to get in the way, not least their professions. A historian

at the University of KwaZulu-Natal, Wright was busy working on the James Stuart

Archive, a project begun in the seventies with the late Colin de B. Webb to bring to

publication the oral evidence recorded by Stuart in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

This extraordinary window into the history of Zululand, Natal and Swaziland now runs

to five volumes, and a sixth is nearing completion. Meanwhile, Mazel was busy at the

Natal Museum, later moving to Cape Town, where he headed up the Cultural History

Museum, before going to Britain where he is now an archaeologist at the International

Centre for Cultural and Heritage Studies at Newcastle University.

Neither did the times seem right for such a book. ‘South Africa was going through

the most profound political and social changes,’ says Wright. ‘It seemed to us too un-

serious a business to indulge ourselves working on a hobby, a labour of love, instead

of more serious academic projects.’

Wright’s first contact with the Berg came at the age of eight when his father, Bob

Wright, was appointed officer in charge of Kamberg nature reserve in 1951. ‘He was

trained as a vet and worked at Onderstepoort after World War 2 before going into private

practice in the Estcourt/Mooi River region. He joined the then Natal Parks Board, four

years after it was established. My father was a great rider, so I experienced the Berg

both riding and walking.’

Schooled at Treverton and Michaelhouse, the Berg was a constant backdrop for

Wright, though not a place of holiday. ‘I only became a conscious Berg lover when I

started varsity in the early sixties and started hiking in the Berg.’

Wright must also deserve a mention in Berg records for being bitten by a puff adder

while walking in the Nzinga area in 2005. ‘I got over it quickly,’ he says. ‘Though I

limped around for a while.’

Talk about a book on the Berg began to get more serious when the uKhahlamba-

Drakensberg Park was declared a World Heritage Site by Unesco in 2000. The final

impetus came from Veronica Klipp, director of the Wits University Press, who threw

down the gauntlet of a commission. The result: Tracks in a Mountain Range, subtitled

Exploring the History of the uKhahlamba-Drakensberg.

Aimed at a popular market, the book is elegantly designed and well illustrated,

while also managing to be academically sound and readable. If Wright and Mazel had

an ideal reader in mind, it was people who visit the Ezemvelo KZN Wildlife resorts in

the Berg. ‘They don’t go to hotels — they are Berg lovers, Berg watchers, Berg walkers,

as opposed to bowls players and golf players,’ says Wright. ‘[They are] people who are

prepared to think and read about what they see.’

Wright emphasises that one aim of the book was to produce a balanced history of

the Berg, one that redressed some of the imbalances of earlier books. ‘We particularly

wanted to feature the San, not just as bit players but as mainstream actors. But even so,

due to the lack of source material, they are only at the edge of our sight.’


The one sighting, the single San voice to be heard, belongs to Qing, and what he

had to say was recorded in six brief pages by Joseph Orpen in 1874.

Wright was able to draw on his own research into the San in the Berg undertaken

for an Master’s thesis, and subsequently developed for publication as Bushman Raiders of the Drakensberg, 1840–1870, published in 1971. He also drew on the book he did

with Andrew Manson, The Hlubi Chiefdom in Zululand-Natal: a History, published

in 1983. ‘Both books involved a lot of research and broke down the older stereotypes.

Aron and I also drew on the work of archaeologists Tim Maggs and Gavin Whitelaw

on Iron Age farmers.’

The teaming of an archaeologist and a historian would seem the perfect match,

one discipline informing the other. ‘You would certainly think so,’ says Wright. ‘But,

as far as I’m aware, this is the first partnership between an academic historian and an

academic archaeologist.’

Wright says that in some respects it’s not always a workable combination.

“We are two different animals: historians are archival animals, while archaeologists

are excavators of materials and objects; they are often content to identify and record

evidence while historians want to make a story, a history, out of it all.”

Despite their different approaches it proved an easy working relationship and the

book economically divides into six chapters.

‘The first, “The Mountains and the Storytellers”, sketches out the main themes and

approaches that previous writers have taken,’ says Wright, ‘from missionary Allen Gar-

diner writing the first known description of the Berg in 1835 to Bill Barnes writing about

his life as a game ranger at Giant’s Castle in the years from the fifties to the nineties.’

The second and third chapters, both by Mazel, give an account of San hunter-gath-

erer life in the mountains from 3 000 years ago, the first black farmers in the area and

the rock paintings.

In Chapter Four, ‘Black People, San and European Colonists’, Wright focuses on

the far-reaching changes of the period c1800 to c1870, brought about by European

colonial expansion.

In Chapter Five, ‘The Closing of the Mountain Frontier’, Wright examines the

period 1870 to 1900. ‘I give a revisionist account of the “Langalibalele affair” and

the subjugation of the Hlubi in 1873–74, and then go on to outline the people of East

Griqualand and Lesotho.’

The final chapter, ‘Modernisation in the Mountains’, takes the reader from the 1890s

to the present. ‘This was the most difficult to write because of the relative lack of previous

academic research,’ says Wright. ‘I first look at the domestication of the Berg, 1890s to

World War 2, with the expansion of stock farming and of tourism: the San inhabitants

having been cleared away, they are replaced by sheep and trout fishermen.’

The post-war period saw the rapid expansion of the South African economy. ‘The

“resources” of the Berg became more commercially valued,’ says Wright, ‘and more and

more contested between different interest-groups: farmers, farm tenants and labourers,

hoteliers, the tourist industry, real estate developers with their insertions of suburbia into

the Berg in the name of “development”, industrialists wanting water supplies, dagga

traders, stock thieves, poachers, migrant workers, conservationists and bureaucrats of

different persuasions.

‘It was an ongoing saga of tussle and sometimes outright confrontation, against a


political background of the rise and fall of Bantustan policy, the expansion of South

Africa’s security state, the establishment of a democratic government in an era of in-

creasing globalisation, and the penetration of market economy into the Berg’s remotest

corners.’

Wright acknowledges that previous writers on the Berg have touched on many of

these themes but have tended to do so from a ‘colonial’ perspective. ‘This perspective

privileges the activities of five groups of white males acting in heroic mode: explorers,

soldiers, pioneer farmers, mountaineers, and game rangers. We don’t deny their impor-

tance, but see it as necessary in this post-colonial age to show up the stereotypes that

go with this kind of history and to demonstrate that there is much more to the history

of the Berg than the activities of white colonial males.’

Consequently, Tracks in a Mountain Range has a critical edge to it. ‘We resisted

the easy romanticising of the Berg and the sentimental celebration of “Berg heritage”,’

says Wright. ‘We aimed to problematise the notion of “development” in the Berg, and

emphasise the point that the making of much of the Berg into a playground for the well-

off urban middle-classes has been an often violent and ugly process.’

Wright says the great natural beauty of the Berg can be celebrated ‘even if one is

aware of the often sordid history that underlies its availability to us in the present.’ And

he admits that readers alert to paradox and contradiction ‘will probably find a certain

repressed romanticism trying to break through at certain points.

‘They may also discern a certain nostalgia on the part of the book’s grey-beard authors

for the times when they were young men in khaki striding over the ridges.’

STEPHEN COAN

* Republished from The Witness, with permission.

HOW CAN MAN DIE BETTER?: THE SECRETS OF ISANDLWANA

REVEALED by LIEUTENANT COLONEL MIKE SNOOK.

London, Greenhill Books, 2005. 320p. illus., maps. ISBN 1-85367-656-X.

This is the latest book on the battle of Isandlwana, January 22, 1879, in which a Zulu

army defeated a British army invading the Zulu kingdom. The completeness of the

victory and the near destruction of the defeated army have made it memorable in British

military history.

On the dust cover the publisher tells us: ‘How can man die better? is a unique study

of the Battle of Isandlwana — of the weapons, the tactics, the ground, and of the intrigu-

ing characters who made the key military decisions. Because the fatal loss was so high

on the British side there is still much that is unknown about the battle — until now.

‘The author reconstructs the final phase of the battle in a way that has never been

attempted before. It was to become the stuff of legend which the author brings to life

so vividly that one can almost sense the fear and smell the blood. How can man die better? is essential reading for anyone interested in Isandlwana, the wider Anglo-Zulu

War or the Victorian Army.’

The title of the book is from Macaulay’s Horatius


And how can man die better,Than facing fearful odds,For the ashes of his fathers,And the temples of his Gods?

Even allowing for booksellers’ licence, with so many books already on the war and

the battle, we may well ask how this latest one can add significantly to our knowledge

of the battle. There is a ready, plausible answer to the question — a special author and a

special purpose. Lieutenant Colonel Mike Snook, ‘a serving officer of the Royal Regi-

ment of Wales (formerly the 24th)’, with a deep and long standing interest in the battle

and a many-time visitor to the battlefield, explains (p. 12):

‘The more time I spent at Isandlwana, the less convinced I became that the historians

had mastered the great battle. There were dimensions of time and space that just did

not add up. There were major Zulu troop movements that nobody had explained, but

which simply had to have a cause or a reason behind them. The destruction of the 24th

Regiment was, it seemed, altogether too difficult to piece together. But, if ever a tale

cried out to be told well, it is the story of this supremely dramatic confrontation: this

much we owe to those who fell.’

This is Colonel Snook’s first book, and he took a long time developing his ideas for it

(p. 12). He particularly desires to set the record straight and to rebut the ‘revisionists’, a

genre whose ‘destructive influence’ (p. 15) is manifest in ‘a recent spate of books in this

field, which have been irksome for their many errors of fact, their sometimes eccentric

interpretations, and, particularly, the deeply unpleasant vein of cynicism which runs

through them.’ (p. 14). He cites specifically the suggestion that Lieutenants ‘Melvill

and Coghill died not in an attempt to save the Queen’s colour of their regiment, but

their own skins, a cheap slur on two men, who, as if any reminder were necessary, are

holders of their nation’s highest award “For Valour”.’ (pp. 14–15) ‘I am far from being

alone in my annoyance with the genre.’ (p. 14)

This book stresses traditional values and celebrates the regiment. It makes entertain-

ing and stimulating reading. Colonel Snook really does tell us some things we, who

think we know something about the battle, have not heard before and which, but for

him, we might not have heard otherwise.

The text consists of seven chapters in two parts. The first part, ‘Gathering Storm’,

covers the British invasion and the advance of the Centre Column, under the eye of

Lord Chelmsford, and the reconnaissance-in-force on January 21st, which discovered a

sizeable Zulu force and led Chelmsford to take half of the column forward to meet it on

the 22nd. These are short chapters, for the colonel presumes his reader is already versed

in the history of the Anglo-Zulu War. He does not linger over causes and preliminaries,

but moves on quickly to the great battle.

It is generally acknowledged that Lord Chelmsford’s division of his force in the

presence of the enemy, of whose real strength and location and purpose he was ignorant,

was fatal to the invasion. However, Colonel Snook, who is no admirer of the British

commander, none the less takes very much of a minority position among writers on

the battle in siding with him on the ability of the force left at the camp to defend itself

against a Zulu attack. It was not a question of entrenching or laagering, as is often

mooted, but of deployment and firepower. ‘The right answer for the camp . . . would

have been a number of mutually supporting redoubts at key points on the ground.’ (p.


68) This seems not to have occurred to any of the participants, and Colonel Snook does

not belabour the point. ‘If something went badly wrong, the regular infantry battalion

could form “receive cavalry” squares in next to no time, and a British square was well

known to be all but invulnerable.’ (p. 67)

The second part of the book, ‘In the Shadow of the Sphinx’, covers the events

of January 22nd. (The sphinx is Isandlwana hill, so called for the resemblance of its

lengthwise silhouette to the sphinx badge of the 24th Regiment.) Three long chapters,

two thirds of the text, treat the battle; the fourth chapter is a tailpiece on the return of

the advance column to the scene afterwards.

In the chapter ‘Sunrise’ the author describes the British and Zulu movements in the

vicinity of the camp during the morning. The author believes that the Zulu probably in-

tended to attack the following day (pp. 148-150), and the Zulu forces seen on the heights

north of the camp were parts of the right horn of the army, which took up a forward

position in advance. The sound of an engagement between the general’s and a separate

Zulu force some 10 miles to the southeast roused it to action prematurely, and it was

recalled with some difficulty, as the British unknowingly witnessed (pp. 150-152). This

is a novel interpretation of these Zulu movements, which, Colonel Snook rightly points

out, have never been satisfactorily explained (pp. 12, 147). Beyond this he says little

more than do other writers in praise of Zulu generalship and tactics. His ‘is a military

history and is written very much from an anglocentric viewpoint’, and he refers his

reader to Ian Knight and John Laband, for ‘the other side of the fence’. (p. 13)

Much more important to him is how the British reacted to the appearance of a large

Zulu force nearby. Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Pulleine was left in charge of the camp

by the general. Lieutenant-Colonel Anthony Durnford, at Rorke’s Drift, was ordered

to come forward with five mounted troops, a rocket battery and infantry escort of two

companies. Durnford was the commander of a separate column poised to co-operate with

the Centre Column in its advance into the Zulu country. Durnford had been ordered to

the camp, but he was not ordered to take command of it. As Pulleine’s senior in rank,

he did so automatically. ‘Essentially through absent-minded oversight, Chelmsford

and his staff had provided for an incoherent command structure at Isandlwana’ (p. 89).

Durnford did not actually take charge. He thought the Zulu receding from view on the

heights were going after the general’s column, and he hastened thither with two troops,

followed by the rocket battery and escort. In addition he sent two troops to scout the

hills. Pulleine’s orders were to defend the camp, and he resisted Durnford’s efforts to

detach part of his force, but Durnford left camp saying that he expected Pulleine to

support him if he got into difficulties.

Chapter Five, ‘Horns of the Buffalo’, carries us into the battle. Durnford’s two

troops on the hills discovered the Zulu army, which now launched its attack. The horns

swung wide to encircle the British camp, the chest bore down on it over the escarpment.

Pulleine fought by the book, forming a very extended line of infantry with a section

of guns near the centre to meet the chest, and effectively halted it with a heavy fire.

Finding that the line was being outflanked, he anchored the left on Isandlwana, and the

two companies on the right fell back and formed a line at a right angle (p. 203) along

a rocky ridge. Meanwhile Durnford’s sally had been stopped by the onset of the Zulu

left horn, which also destroyed the rocket battery. Durnford made a fighting retreat, and

halted in a watercourse to the right front of the camp in order to protect Pulleine’s right.


He was reinforced by an assortment of mounted men from the camp. The combined

force managed to hold back the Zulu in front, but not those working around their right

flank. Moreover, Durnford’s two troops were running low on ammunition. He ordered

the men to abandon the watercourse and retire to the camp.

Chapter Six, ‘Rally on the Colours’, is Colonel Snook’s tour de force. He describes in

great detail, in coloured prose, the defeat which overtook the British. Durnford’s retreat

exposed the right company of the 24th to destruction (pp. 17 and 248); his failure to rally

made defeat inevitable (p 248). Colonel Snook does not quite say that the colonials let the

side down, but it seems pretty clear throughout the book. ‘The irresponsible Durnford’

(p. 139) is a fool when he is not a madman, and it is obvious from the very start that

the Natal Native Contingent definitely are not the right stuff. They are kept out of the

fighting as much as possible, and they run away when they have the chance.

Pulleine ordered a general retirement so that he could form a ‘receive cavalry’ square

at the camp. He sent Lieutenant Melvill to fetch the Queen’s colour from the tent to

mark the place (p. 231). It was too late. The Zulu pressed hard, and Pulleine himself

was killed ‘on the front line, commanding a masterfully-conducted withdrawal’(p. 227).

Just before he fell, he ordered Melvill to carry the colour to safety; Melvill did so (pp.

256–257), but ran into difficulties at the river crossing, where he was gallantly assisted

by Coghill, and both were killed (pp. 278–279).

The left horn came on, and the right horn closed in soon after, cutting off further

escape. The British regulars were doomed, but they fought to the last man. There was

no collapse of the line on the left. Four companies put up a bold front, refused their

right, and fell back along the eastern foot of the hill. Individuals were lost along the

way, and eventually the company exposed on the right was cut off and cut down. The

one company remaining on the rocky ridge formed a square and fought its way back to

meet the others. They all were brought to bay, and died fighting in small clusters near

the southern foot of the hill.

Thus the narrative of the battle, according to Colonel Snook. Progressively it diverges

from the mainstream one as told by, say, Ian Beckett, Ian Knight, Ron Lock, and Saul

David. He justifies his idiosyncratic account of the last stand(s) of the 24th: ‘With few

notable exceptions, historians have done these men a disservice. In the telling of their

tale, the scholars have killed them off precipitately in front of the camp. The clear-cut

hopelessness of the situation, the overpowering odds they faced, the renowned martial

skill and ferocity of their opponents — all the first glance factors — have driven the

historians to their inevitable conclusion: whole companies were slaughtered in a few

short seconds. Yet, in truth, it is clear that the Battle of Isandlwana raged long and hard

after the flight of the lucky ones’(p. 18).

So Colonel Snook thinks that most of the ‘historians’ are wrong, and he is right. He

denounces particularly the official Narrative of Field Operations (1881) as a deliberate

misrepresentation of what happened (pp. 224–225). ‘Sadly, the feeble official interpre-

tation has been picked up and proliferated by successive generations of writers, most

of them marching idly in the train of Donald Morris’ (p. 225), whose popular Washing of the Spears appeared in 1965. Starting with David Jackson, in his groundbreaking

Isandhlwana, 1879 — The Sources Re-examined, also in 1965, most historians have in

fact done quite otherwise. Colonel Snook might concede, or even allow, that he has an

imperfect knowledge of the recent literature. Instead, by his bald assertion, he reveals


either a remarkable ignorance of it or a remarkable perverseness in denying it any merit.

He does not play fair with his counterparts. He snipes at them continually as a group

and does not engage with any one, except Morris, who is conveniently dead, whereas

the others are not. He eschews scholarly apparatus — his few notes are descriptive and

utterly inadequate — perhaps because there is little he can or cares to document, and it

could entail a messy debate he would like to avoid.

He is quite candid about being able to do a better job than the ‘historians’: ‘The

primary sources available to us are like an incomplete jigsaw; undoubtedly they leave

yawning gaps in our knowledge. I have attempted to employ alternative tools, such as

military logic and a professional soldier’s eye for ground, to fill in the missing pieces.’

(pp. 12–13). Of course: ‘I have scrupulously avoided pushing on with favoured theories

against the weight of evidence. Unfortunately, it seems a common failing in much of

today’s Isandlwana scholarship.’ (p. 12) And yet: ‘In places there are contentions which

I cannot substantiate to an evidential standard, but where this is the case I have tried to

demonstrate the lines of thought leading to my conclusions.’ (p. 12)

With regard to his reconstruction of the latter part of the battle, the author states that he

has used five ‘tools’ viz. the accounts of ‘Maori’ Browne (a NNC officer who witnessed

some of the battle from a distance), some Zulu participants in the battle, and European

officers and journalists who returned to the field within a few months of the battle; the

positions of cairns marking later interments; and ‘military probability and soldierly

logic’, which ‘may be the most critical tool’ of all (pp. 219–220). He thus jettisons the

accounts of any survivors on the British side, relies on some very mixed later ones,

looks at burials done several times over, and trusts to his own genius. Then, recurring

to his third ‘tool’, he ‘corroborates’ this reconstruction. On the basis of their statements

he identifies nine clusters of bodies which represent last stands (pp. 282–285). On these

depend his theory that the companies of the 1/24th were not destroyed (or materially

injured) in front of the camp, but retired along the foot of the hill to the southern end,

in which vicinity they (with one exception) were destroyed.

Let us take Colonel Snook at his word then, and work with what he says.

He tells us 600 of the 24th were engaged. 400 were in the 1st Battalion. 200 were

in the 2nd Battalion.

He tells us that there were only two clusters of dead in front of the camp, one on the

rocky ridge, in which were found the remains of Sergeant Wolfe of H Company and 20

others of the 1/24th, and the other further down the ridge and on the reverse slope, 50

men whom Snook says must be of G company, 2/24th.

In the camp area there was a cluster of 50 of the 24th. To the south of the hill there are

three clusters of 64 (almost all 24th), 70 (24th), and 63 (24th), and down the fugitives’

trail another cluster of about 40 of the 24th. In the cluster which marked Durnford’s

last stand there were also a few of the 24th. (The remaining cluster consisted of NNC,

on the western side of the hill.)

In addition to these dead the author estimates that 50 to 60 others of the regiment

were killed, individually or in small combats, either in the camp area or down the fugi-

tives’ trail.

Altogether then he accounts for between 408 and 418 dead of the 24th. Plus the

few with Durnford — say three — would make between 410 and 420. Of these between

360 and 370 belong to the 1st battalion and 50 to the 2nd Battalion. The remains of


between 180 and 190 dead are unlocated — between 30 and 40 of the 1st Battalion and

150 of the 2nd Battalion.

Now Snook maintains that all but 50 of these men belong to the 1/24th. Leaving

out Sergeant Wolfe and his 20 men, he identifies 340 to 350 men who fell, not in line

in front of the camp, but either in it or at the southern end of the hill or beyond. This

proves that the 1/24th maintained its formation and suffered negligible losses fighting

in front of the camp. They could not have been cut down in front of the camp, as the

‘official’ and epigonistic histories have maintained.

The problems are obvious. The author states that the 24th had 600 at the camp, of

which 400 were in the 1st Battalion and 200 were in the 2nd Battalion. Categorically he

states the only 2nd Battalion dead found were the 50 on the rocky ridge. This leaves 150

of the battalion unaccounted for. Yet he says they died on the rocky ridge. The remains

of Sergeant Wolfe and 20 men of the 1/24th were found on the ridge. Why should the

remains of 150 of the 2/24th disappear? Unless the men were not there. But Colonel

Snook says they were there.

If 150 men of the 2/24th could fall on the rocky ridge and leave no trace, then why

could not 150 (or more) men — the equivalent of the two companies ‘officially’ destroyed

in front of the camp — fall and leave no trace, further up the same ridge?

What if most, or at least more, of the 2/24th rallied below the hill, as some historians

suggest?

Who is Colonel Snook to dictate that the only 2/24th dead found on the battlefield

are in the cluster on the ridge? Why can’t some of the 2/24th be in the other clusters?

Because Colonel Snook’s theory won’t allow it. Start changing his numbers for the two

battalions and his reconstruction starts to fall apart. Which brings us back to the real

basis of his theory. ‘Military probability and soldierly logic’. Or call them Intuition

and Inference. His reconstruction, however inspired, is essentially fictive. His book is

a ‘unique study’, but it is not good history.

PAUL THOMPSON

BLACK SOLDIERS FOUGHT FOR ‘QUEEN AND COUNTRY’

BLACK SOLDIERS OF THE QUEEN — THE NATAL NATIVE CONTINGENT

IN THE ANGLO-ZULU WAR by P. S. THOMPSON. Tusealoosa: University of

Alabama Press, 2006.

Paul Thompson¹s book The Natal Native Contingent in the Anglo-Zulu War has appeared

in its third incarnation: a revised edition published by the University of Alabama Press

which also comes with a new title, Black Soldiers of the Queen.

Thompson, a retired associate professor of history at the University of KwaZulu-

Natal, first brought out the book in 1997. A revised edition followed in 2003 and the

latest edition also boasts new material, mainly relating to aspects of the Battle of

Isandlwana.

The new title also serves to draw attention to the fact that contrary to popular per-

ceptions, Zulu-speaking people were not united in their support of King Cetshwayo

against the British. ‘The war was not simply one of white against black, colonial against

native,’ says Thompson in a preface to the new edition. ‘Over half of the fighting men


in the invading British army were blacks from the Colony of Natal, and they served

the Queen willingly.’

The reason they served so willingly dates back to the time of the Zulu kings Shaka

and Dingane. Various peoples suffered at their hands and fled the Zulu heartland to seek

safety south of the Thukela River. Among them the amaHlubi and the amaNgwane, who

came to rest beneath the mountains upcountry; the amaChunu and the abaThembu, who

settled along the middle Thukela; and the amaQadi at the coast. All furnished levies to

the Natal Native Contingent (NNC).

Over 120 years later the legacy of those times is still apparent. In July 2006 Zulu

King Goodwill Zwelithini launched a campaign to drop ‘Natal’ from this province’s

name because of its colonial connections. ‘The Zulu nation has a right to name the place

they live in as KwaZulu as much as the Indians have the right to do the same in India,

Germans in Germany and French in France,’ said Zwelithini.

The king¹s statement drew fire from Khulekani Ngwenya, styled ‘advisor to His

Majesty King Msondeni Hlongwane’ of the amaNgwane. In a letter to The Witness,

Ngwenya said, ‘the Zulus are a smaller tribe than the majority amaNgwane tribe’ and

that the amaNgwane ‘were a nation under their own king at least 100 years before the

Zulus even existed as a group’. Ngwenya said there were other kings in KwaZulu-Natal

and Zwelithini ‘should hold his horses until he can debate the situation with kings of

a similar station to him’.

King Hlongwane is a descendant of Zikali kaMatiwane whose followers fought on

the side of the British at the battle of Isandlwana.

The amaNgwane had a long history of friction with the Zulu. In the early 1820s,

the amaNgwane under Matiwane living on the headwaters of the White Mfolozi fled

westward, eventually settling in an upper Thukela River valley in the Drakensberg. This

is now the amaNgwane Tribal Authority. In August 1828, after clashing with the Cape

Colony forces, Matiwane sought help from the Zulu king at uMgungundlhovu. Dingane

was wary of his motives and had him killed on a nearby hill, a place of execution known

to this day as KwaMatiwane. Matiwane had a son called Zikhali and the Anglo-Zulu

War provided him with the opportunity for revenge. He supplied 157 mounted men,

known as Zikhali’s Horse, and 243 foot soldiers.

As well as the amaNgwane, other groups had good reason to hate the Zulu. The

amaQadi, loyal to Shaka, had fallen foul of his brother and successor, Dingane. He had

massacred all the amaQadi he could find and the remnants escaped into the bush south

of the Thukela.

The amaChunu under Macingwane had fallen out with the Zulu King Shaka and

moved into the country south of the Thukela known as ‘the thorns’. But the long arm of

the Zulu king sought them out and they were ‘eaten up’. One story relates that Macing-

wane became a wanderer until he was eaten by cannibals. The surviving amaMchunu

returned to Zululand but during Dingane’s reign Macingwane’s son, Phakade, led

them back to ‘the thorns’ and refused to return. His relations with Dingane’s successor,

Mpande, were fraught and peace only came to the amaChunu with the coming of the

British and the establishment of the Colony of Natal in 1845.

Such a heritage of hatred hardly applied to the people of Edendale. Edendale village,

founded as a Wesleyan mission in 1851, boasted a population of about 1 000. They had

no chief and the community’s affairs were in the charge of a Board of Trust. ‘Many


were amaSwazi, some were baSotho. Few had roots in Natal,’ says Thompson. They

were well educated, most were Christians and ‘in their habits, in their dress, and even

in their dwellings people followed the model of England’.

At a meeting to discuss a request for men to fight against the Zulus, community

leader Daniel Msimang made an impassioned appeal for volunteers. ‘We all know the

cruelty and the power of the Zulu King and, should he subdue the Queen’s soldiers

and overrun this land, he will wipe out all the native people who have dwelt so long in

safety under the shadow of the Great White Queen. Shall we not gladly obey her, when

she calls for the services of her dark children?’

Evidence of the services of those black soldiers of the Queen can still be found

today. In the amaNgwane Tribal Authority there is a stream named Isandlwana and an

Isandlwana trading store. A feature in the Drakensberg is named Zikhali’s Horn.

In the centre of Pietermaritzburg, opposite the city hall, there are four statues on

the monument to those who died in the Anglo-Zulu War. One of them represents an

African soldier of the NNC.

In the grounds of Georgetown’s Methodist church, in the heart of Edendale, there is

a sandstone obelisk. On one side, under ‘Isandhlwana’, the names of Ezra Tyingila and

Klass Sopela appear — ‘Killed in action January 22nd 1879’. On the south face, another

name is recorded — Johannes Mgadi, killed in action on July 4, 1879, at Ulundi, the

battle that ended the war. Another inscription reads simply: ‘For Queen and Country’.

STEPHEN COAN

* Reprinted from The Witness, with permission.

THE NATAL MUSEUM IN A CHANGING SOUTH AFRICA 1904 – 2004 by BILL

GUEST. Pietermaritzburg: Natal Museum, 2006. 322pp. illus.

Pietermaritzburg is well served by cultural and recreational amenities. A perhaps

underappreciated advantage of this city’s provincial capital status is the presence of

amenities such as the Natal Museum that are funded by the national treasury. Its resultant

comparatively generous budget has thus made it easier for it to develop and function

effectively without unduly burdening the city’s ratepayers. It may also not be recognised

by the citizens of Pietermaritzburg that the Natal Museum is well known far beyond the

city limits, since it is a respected member of the international scientific community owing

to the materials preserved in its collections and the research on them that is undertaken

by both local and foreign scientists. The Museum, which has done much to engender

civic pride through the services it provides to residents and visitors, has now taken a

major step in further informing the public about its status, functions and achievements

through the publication of Bill Guest’s well-researched and comprehensive history.

In the heyday of the British Empire in Victorian times the British developed a pas-

sionate interest in the fauna, flora and indigenous peoples of the colonies. This was

reflected in part by the development of London’s Natural History Museum and other

similar museums elsewhere in the British Isles. Since it was customary for the amenities

of ‘home’ to be emulated in the colonies, it is not surprising that local museums were

developed in many colonial towns, particularly administrative centres. Pietermaritzburg,

the capital of the Colony of Natal, was one such town and the citizens’ efforts in this


connection are the subject of Guest’s Chapter One, ‘Founding Fathers (1849–1903)’.

This is really the story of the conception, birth and development of the Natal Society,

which was established in 1851. It had as its purpose the collection and dissemination

of information about the natural and cultural history of Natal, mainly to prospective

immigrants. There were also plans for a museum. In fact, the Natal Society was unable

to form a properly constituted museum and eventually, in 1901, the government agreed

to establish a dedicated museum that was to be housed in its own building. The next

eleven chapters in Guest’s book deal with the establishment of the Natal Museum and

its development between 1904 and 2004.

The chapters give details of all aspects of the museum’s functions and develop-

ment. The collections that form the basis of each of the departments, the staff and

accommodation all receive attention. Each of the more prominent persons associated

with the museum is described in a brief biography. The museum’s library, publications

and educational programmes are also described, and account is given of its perennial

financial and accommodation problems. The fact that Guest was able to provide so

much detail in this history indicates that excellent record-keeping is another of the

museum’s achievements.

It is often the case that the calibre of the leader of an organisation determines its

ultimate success, so it was the museum’s, and Natal’s, good fortune that Dr Ernest War-

ren, a zoologist from the University College, London, was appointed its first director in

1903. Warren’s appointment was the wise choice of a government-appointed ‘manage-

ment committee’, which was later to become the museum’s Board of Trustees. These

men, and the trustees that were to follow in later years, ensured good governance of

the museum and made huge contributions to its development, almost always out of the

public eye and for little or no reward. One area of development was in staff numbers.

A photograph in the book shows the museum’s first staff of four men and one woman,

while another dated 2000 shows a near 10-fold increase in people (and one dog).

Three chapters in the book are devoted to Warren’s 30-year-long administration, a

well-deserved tribute to this remarkable man and his contributions to the museum. It

was Warren’s vision of the role of a natural history museum in society that has formed

the basis of virtually all the Natal Museum’s policies and programmes, and it was his

persistence, dedication and drive that laid the foundation of the museum’s success. For

example, his plans included making the museum ‘an educational force in the Colony’

(page 27), which is still reflected in the museum’s effective educational programmes.

Also, the scientific disciplines whose development he encouraged are for the most part

still covered by the museum today, while its links with the local university and nature

conservation body are probably still as strong. Warren’s achievements were made in

spite of the fact that from the outset his administration was beset by problems, includ-

ing shortages of finances, staff and space that were to persist throughout his tenure as

director.

After Warren retired and returned to London in 1935 he was replaced by Dr R F

Lawrence, an entomologist at the South African Museum in Cape Town. Lawrence was

another remarkable man who served the Natal Museum well. His period as director lasted

until 1948 and thereafter he kept his ties to the museum and served as acting director

on several occasions before retiring in 1961. He continued to edit the museum’s journal

and research the museum’s collections before finally leaving to settle in Grahamstown in


1966. Like Warren before him, he devoted 30 years of his life to the museum and also,

like Warren, he faced many difficulties during the period of his administration, not least

the difficulties that stemmed from the Second World War and its aftermath.

Lawrence was replaced as director in 1950 by Phillip Clancey, a Scottish orni-

thologist. Clancey immediately set about modernising the displays, but his plans were

hampered by financial constraints and some animosity from the trustees. He left early

in 1952 to become the director of the Durban Museum and Art Gallery. Lawrence was

then appointed acting director until a permanent replacement was found.

The replacement was to be Dr John Pringle, who had been director of the Port Eliza-

beth Museum for 16 years and so was more experienced in museum administration than

his predecessors. He was to spend 20 years at the museum before retiring in 1974, and

the period of his administration saw many improvements and some profound changes

in staffing, displays and accommodation. Apart from an increased staff complement,

the most significant development during Pringle’s administration was the completion in

1969 of the addition to the museum building. This striking modern structure appeared in

sharp contrast to the original Edwardian building and it allowed the museum to expand

in ways that Pringle’s predecessors could only have dreamed about. Apart from provid-

ing much-needed extra space for the collections, it also became possible to expand the

staff complement significantly. For example, in 1969 Dr Oliver Davies was appointed

honorary curator of the archaeology collections and three years later Dr Tim Maggs was

appointed head of the newly-established Department of Archaeology, thereby becoming

the first professional archaeologist to hold a position in Natal.

The later chapters of the book deal with the past few decades that will be within the

experience of many residents of Pietermaritzburg. Amongst the personalities that will

be well-known is Dr Brian Stuckenberg, the doyen of South African museologists. A

protégé of John Pringle, Stuckenberg grew up in Port Elizabeth and had his first experi-

ence of a museum in that city. He followed Pringle to Pietermaritzburg in 1953 and has

kept a connection with the Natal Museum to this day, so that he stands alone in terms

of the length of service to this institution. Stuckenberg replaced Pringle as director in

1976 and remained in this position until he, too, retired in 1994.

Stuckenberg continued Pringle’s modernisation of the museum. Under his sound

leadership the scientific departments and school service were strengthened through the

appointment of young, enthusiastic and well-qualified staff. An ongoing upgrading of the

museum’s displays was undertaken. All this combined to improve the museum’s public

image and its standing in the field of research. For example, although Stuckenberg is

an entomologist, he developed an interest in Portuguese shipwrecks on South Africa’s

east coast, which resulted in a new dimension to the museum’s collections and displays

and a new field of expertise for himself.

Dr Jason Londt was appointed assistant director in 1976 and he replaced Stuckenberg

as director in 1994, the year that saw the beginning of a new political dispensation for

South Africa. The next decade was ‘characterised by considerable financial uncertainty,

major building operations and a restructuring of South African museums that involved

the transformation of the Natal Museum as a public institution’ (page 179). This criti-

cal period was ably managed by Londt until he handed over the reigns to Luthando

Maphasa, an ornithologist who has been tasked with adapting the Natal Museum to the

needs of the new South Africa, while still maintaining its position as one of Africa’s


leading museums.

Bill Guest’s book, which was published to commemorate the Natal Museum’s cen-

tenary, will be welcomed by all who take a pride in Pietermaritzburg and an interest

in its history and, hopefully, it will raise the profile of the museum amongst citizens

in general.

BRETT HENDEY

SHAKTI: STORIES OF INDIAN WOMEN IN SOUTH AFRICA.

Compiled by ALLEYN DIESEL. Johannesburg: Wits University Press, 2007.

ISBN 378-1-8684-454-9

Recognising the importance of empowering people to tell their own stories– particularly

in the multi-cultural context of a South Africa attempting to redress the past; encouraged

by her experiences, from 1987, of talking to Hindu women regarding their religious

activities and involvement in the worship of various goddesses; and realising that the

voices of Indian women have been neglected in the process of collecting the stories of

various South African cultural groups, Alleyn Diesel embarked on a project of listening

to, and recording, the stories of Indian women — Hindu, Muslim and Christian — in

the Pietermaritzburg area. The project has culminated in the publication, Shakti, which

includes the individual contributions of 18 women, each one offering, in her own unique

register and style, information about, and insights into, the influences and events that have

informed and shaped her life. Further, the book contains accounts of the backgrounds

and activities of five Hindu women engaged in the worship of the goddess Shakti in

KwaZulu-Natal. In some cases, these women are capable of entering the trance-like

state in which they are possessed by one of the powerful autonomous goddesses, appear

wild and dishevelled, and are able to endure walking on fire and the piercing of their

flesh without experiencing pain. In a condition of trance, individuals are revered, bless

their devotees and may demonstrate healing powers.

In an article published in The Witness on 8 October 2005, Alleyn Diesel described

Shakti as, ‘the power of women; that primordial creative, healing and nourishing female

energy that can help women triumph over the circumstances of their lives and contribute

to the building of a safer society.’ Shakti is also the generic name for the goddess.

The women featured in this publication range from one who is in her 20s to one

who was born in the 20s, in profile from the private to the professional, public-spirited

and politically active and in comment from the quietly reminiscent to the sometimes

shockingly revelatory. Each demonstrates her individual shakti — her own power and

energy.

In reflecting on the past, some of the contributors provide the reader with informa-

tion on, and insight into, the struggles and strivings of indentured labourers who came

to South Africa as immigrants from the 1860s and, often in adverse and abject circum-

stances, determined, within their communities, to maintain their customs, dress and

religious practices. Some offer glimpses of significant events in Maritzburgian history,

such as the establishment, in 1933, of the influential Pietermaritzburg Indian Women’s

Association, initially founded to encourage Indian women to improve their lives through


education, to become involved in welfare work and to contribute positively to South

African society. And there are glimpses of life in the colourful, primarily Hindi-speaking

community of Plessislaer, a locality where Indian and black residents apparently lived

together compatibly and cordially until 1971 when, in accordance with the Group Areas

Act, Indian families were — often traumatically — relocated to Northdale.

Many contributors provide the reader with examples of individual experiences of

apartheid, involving, in some cases, brushes with the security police and even detention

in solitary confinement. We are told of the feisty Durga Bundhoo, a diminutive figure

who, confronted at home in the 1970s by two beefy members of the security branch,

disconcerted and disempowered them by issuing threats and insisting that, in the course

of their importunate searching, they leave everything neatly and correctly in its place.

‘… which they did, probably to their own great surprise’. Nina Hassim movingly pays

tribute to her compassionate jailer at the Hilton Police Station where she was detained

for 78 days in 1971; Rabia Motala writes of visiting Nelson Mandela, an old friend, in

the Victor Verster prison in 1989 ( and recalls seeing him in very different circumstances

in the 1990s in Morocco when she and her husband were resident there as the first South

African ambassadors to that country) and Nalini Naidoo refers to prohibited sections

of the Pietermaritzburg of her childhood as ‘the Forbidden City’. ‘We were always the

outsiders,’ she writes, ‘visitors in our own city.’ Now, though, ‘I feel a growing intimacy

with the place I can call … home.’

The segregationist principles of apartheid ‘kept us apart and ignorant’ states Roshen

Latiff. Ignorance of, and separateness from, one another’s cultures engenders stereotyp-

ing, suspicion and fear which manifest themselves — all too often — in the negative,

hurtful and even harmful behaviour of one race group towards another.

Nevertheless, in its attempt to contain and silence, apartheid sometimes inadvertently

facilitated cohesion and the articulation of valued principles. Naseema Aboo argues that,

‘Growing up in our group areas, we kept our culture intact … we gained strength to

fight against an oppressive government.’ And Ujala Satgoor contends that ‘the legacy of

legislated segregation has made us value democracy and human rights very highly.’

Some contributors offer insights into particular customs and ceremonies, and discuss

attitudes towards marriage — sometimes of the arranged kind — and divorce; others

tackle vexed issues of identity; others examine the forces that govern choices of career,

spiritual commitment, social awareness and political activism.

In much of the writing, women expose the complexities of relationships, so pertinent

to all humankind. While Indian culture is traditionally perceived to be patriarchal and

while many women speak of dominating father-figures and destructive husbands, some

of the contributors to Shakti pay tribute to the men in their families as people who have

encouraged and enabled them to become independent, strong women. Bunny Bhoola,

a child of the 50s, speaks entertainingly of her grandfather and father who were in the

undertaking business, ran the Edendale Funeral Furnishers and took the children to

school in hearses. From a young age, they were involved in the business and quickly

became savvy and strong. Their entrepreneurial spirit is evident in the fact that at the

age of six or seven they picked fruit in their orchards, assembled it on plates and sold

it to people visiting the sick at Edendale Hospital.

Naseema Aboo, also a child of the 50s, praises her father for his awareness of the

importance of education for girls; for involving his children in the running of his depart-


ment stores in Vryburg and subsequently in Brits (Transvaal); and for teaching them, by

example, the importance of charity work — the need to serve one’s fellows — a creed

so well expressed in a different context by Ujala Satgoor, who writes, ‘We are here to

serve humanity.’

The indefatigable Durga Bundhoo, born in 1921, and honoured for her lifelong com-

mitment to the community, states that it was her parents who instilled in her the values

of social service and the need to assist the poor and underprivileged.

Other women, though, recount the experiences of difficult — and ultimately

untenable — relationships, in which privacy, freedom, individuality and self-esteem

are eroded and in which they are physically endangered. These are stories with which

abused women, world-wide, will be able to identify. As one such victim writes, ‘All

that … ritual is not what makes a marriage work. … it’s something much deeper than

that, some deep kind of understanding and caring.’

In each of the cases, despite sometimes protracted emotional and physical suffer-

ing, the individual speakers have emerged as stronger versions of self — sometimes as

independent women with professional and/or spiritual commitments, sometimes in new,

mutually supportive and interactive relationships.

Almost centrally placed among the contributions to Shakti is a description by Shano

Suparsad of a textile panel designed and completed by a cross-section of Pietermaritz-

burg Indian women, from Tamil, Gujarati, Hindi, Muslim and Christian backgrounds for

the International Mughal Tapestry Project initiated in 1997 by the Victoria and Albert

Museum. To some extent, one might argue that these women have put into fabric what

the contributors of Shakti have put into words. At the base of the panel is the SS Truro,

in which the first indentured labourers travelled to South Africa. Above that, workers are

depicted in the canefields and, subsequent to their indentures, venturing into other enter-

prises. At the beginning of Shakti is Raaz Pillay’s account of her ancestors who worked

as indentured labourers in the coalmines of Newcastle and subsequently on the railways.

On the panel, a colourful Indian pot symbolises traditional festivals and ceremonies; and

an African pot indicates the co-existence of the two cultures in KwaZulu-Natal. There

is a record of the forced removals from Cleland, Pentrich, Edendale and Plessislaer.

Tribute is paid to Gandhi — to his principles of non-violence and passive resistance

and to his time in Pietermaritzburg. And at the top of the panel, a temple, a mosque, a

church and a Buddhist stupa indicate the importance of the spiritual life. Shakti, too,

ends with focus on the spiritual and the enduring image of Pat Pillay, dedicated from a

young age to Mother Kali, vociferous in her campaigning for women to be permitted

to walk the fire in Pietermaritzburg, and finally achieving that goal.

Of the experience of working on the panel, Shano Suparsad says, ‘This rare op-

portunity to reflect on our roots and our vision of ourselves has greatly reinforced our

self-esteem and identity, both as Indian women and as post-apartheid South Africans.’

In providing a platform for women to speak out, Alleyn Diesel has similarly given

individuals the opportunity to reflect on roots, self and identity; to reveal the power

and energy, the shakti within and to reach beyond the confines of a given community

so that all who read this publication may grow in understanding, sensitivity, tolerance

and respect.

MOIRA LOVELL


ZULU VANQUISHED — THE DESTRUCTION OF THE ZULU KINGDOM , by

RON LOCK and PETER QUANTRILL (Greenhill Books, London).

When Theo Binns published The Last Zulu King in 1963, it gave South Africans their

first detailed background to the rise and fall of the House of Shaka.

It took an American named Donald Morris to expand on this aspect of South African

military history when he produced The Washing of the Spears in 1966.

Then there was a surge of interest that caught the imagination of the British people

as the centenary of the Anglo-Zulu War approached, but more so when that hopelessly

inaccurate block-buster movie Zulu was released. Interest in Rorke’s Drift — that remote

corner of KwaZulu-Natal — has now made a visit to the site of the famous defence

almost a ‘must see’ for visiting Britons.

Since then, there has been a plethora of books released and one wonders if there is

really much left to publish about the war of 1879.

Ron Lock and Peter Quantrill have now produced a sequel to Zulu Victory, their first

combined effort on the Anglo-Zulu War, which analysed the Battle of Isandlwana and

the cover-up by the powers that be. Zulu Vanquished focuses on the remaining actions

that lead to the final battle at Ulundi on the 4th July 1879.

Their style is neutral enough but they tend to repeat what I felt somewhat spoilt their

neutral style in Zulu Victory — namely a constant reference to the Zulus as ‘the enemy’.

Quoting extensively from first hand accounts, many of which have not been published

before, Lock and Quantrill constantly analyse them to support their interpretation of

events. There are also a couple of Zulu spelling corrections that should be attended to

in future editions, such as the use of Dingaan instead of Dingane.

Their evaluation of the little known action at Myer’s (or Ntombe) Drift (incorrectly

spelt Meyer’s Drift in the text) is excellent. It was a perfect example of a blatant igno-

rance of one opponent’s capability in conflict.

In the chapter on Hlobane, the authors identify the severe lack of communication

between the commanders as a major cause of the embarrassing setback for the British,

who (unlike Lock and Quantrill) clearly had no intimate knowledge of the terrain. Ron

Lock’s book Blood on the Painted Mountain sets the scene for a superbly thorough

study of this amazing battle. Again, considering the fact that the authors have spent so

much time in the field, my only criticism (in view of the fact that this can be seen as

a definitive account of the war) is the use of another Anglicism (Ityentika Nek instead

of Ntshenteka Nek) for the defile at the eastern end of the mountain, where the British

suffered severe casualties. They are kind to Lt-Col. Redvers Buller (who justifiably

won a VC for his bravery at the Devil’s Pass) who, having observed the approaching

Zulu army, hastily scribbled a note to Capt Barton instructing him to ‘… retire at once

to the right side of the mountain’. When Barton received the note, he was facing in

the opposite direction to Buller when the latter had written the note, which resulted in

Barton riding slap bang into the Zulus and to his death.

Such simple errors were to beset the British through the Transvaal War of Indepen-

dence and the Anglo-Boer War.

The authors’ account of the Battle of Khambule is riveting and would leave little to

the imagination if one were taken to Col. Wood’s hilltop redoubt.

Cmdt F. X. Schermbrucker’s description of the burial of the Zulu dead is bizarre; the

British accorded the warriors full military honours as batch after batch were deposited


into a ‘…ghastly ditch, 200 ft by some 20 ft broad and 10 ft deep.’

As far as I can recall, the only reason for their interment was to prevent them from

polluting the air and water supply in the vicinity of Wood’s strategic redoubt on Khambule

ridge — the headwaters of the White Mfolozi River. Tragically, all signs of this mass

grave, dug ‘three quarters of a mile from camp’, seem to have disappeared.

The Battle of Gingindlovu is probably one of the most overlooked, both historically

and figuratively, in KwaZulu-Natal. Once again, the authors provide us with a splendid

account of the Zulus’ advance on the British square — one of the few occasions they

had used this method of defence since their campaigning in the Sudan.

Lock and Quantrill quote more Zulu accounts in their description of the Battle of

Ulundi (4th July 1879) than in most others and this provides the reader with a more

balanced picture of the hopelessness of the Zulu commanders’ task. Here, the ancient

Zulu order was destroyed and until recently the only memorial to the warriors who fell

in its defence could be seen in the form of a dolerite tablet that was mounted on the

wall of the monument.

Zulu Vanquished is written in the same style as Zulu Victory and is a valuable ad-

dition to an already impressive array of Africana. The authors’ style is easy going and

enjoyable and their story well told.

KEN GILLINGS

106 Select List of Recent KwaZulu-Natal Publications

Select List of Recent KwaZulu-Natal Publications

AHMED, Sherin. The good luck house. Durban: Solo, 2006. 298 p.

ISBN: 10-9802547-1-X and 13-978-0-9802547-1-6. R124,00

A novel.

ANTHONY, Lawrence and SPENCE, Graham. Babylon’s ark. New York: Thomas

Dunne Books, 2007. 240 p. illus. R135,00

Experiences of a Zululand conservationist in alleviating the plight of zoo

animals in Baghdad.

BALLARD, Richard, HABIB, Adam and VALODIA, Imraan. Voices of protest: social movements in post-apartheid South Africa. Pietermaritzburg: University

of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2006. 460 p. ISBN: 978-1-86914-089-2. R190,00

BANK, Andrew. Bushmen in a Victorian world: the remarkable story of the Bleek-Lloyd collection of Bushman folklore. Cape Town: Double Storey, 2006.

422 p. illus. ISBN: 10-177019-091-8 and 13-978-177013-091-3. R189,00

Lucy Lloyd was the daughter of Durban’s first Anglican minister, Revd W.H.C.

Lloyd. Dr W.H.I. Bleek was his son-in-law.

BANNISTER, Elizabeth. The little pink shell: bipolar disorder, a crippling, destructive mental illness: a story of chaos, insanity and God’s intervention.

Ashwood, Durban: Write Publishing S A, 2006. 191 p. illus. ISBN: 9780-620-

37458-3. R120,00

BANNISTER, Mark. Eyes wide open. Trafford, 2006.

BIZLEY, William H. and McKENZIE, Patrick C.G. An historical meander through the Midlands of KwaZulu-Natal. Howick: Midlands Meander Association,

2007. 153 p. illus., maps. ISBN: 978-0-620-39179-5. R150,00

BOND, Patrick. Looting Africa: the economics of exploitation. Pietermaritzburg:

University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2006. 216 p. ISBN: 1-86914-095-8.

R170,00

107Select List of Recent KwaZulu-Natal Publications

BOND, Patrick and DADA, Rehana. Climate change, carbon trading and civil society: negative returns on South African investments. Pietermaritzburg:

University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2007. 208 p. ISBN: 978-1-86914-123-3.

R160,00

BROWN, Duncan. To speak of this land: identity and belonging in South Africa and beyond. Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2006. 248 p.

ISBN: 1-86914-081-8. R 170,00

BUNDHOO, Dasarath. Whisperings of a Gandhi follower. Pietermaritzburg: the

Author, 2006. 149 p. illus. ISBN: 978-0-620-38404-9. R150,00 Proceeds to the

Gandhi Memorial Committee for the education of deserving students.

BURNS, Jonathan. The descent of madness: evolutionary origins of psychosis and the social brain. London: Routledge, 2007. 288 p. illus.

ISBN: 978-1-58391-743-5. R408,00

CHAPMAN, Michael, ed. Soweto poetry: literary perspectives. Pietermaritzburg:

University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2007. 240 p. ISBN: 978-1-86914-127-1

CHAPMAN, Michael. Art talk, politics talk: a consideration of categories. R170,00

Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-Natal, 2006. 188 p.

ISBN: 978-186914-069-4. R170,00

CLARK, Michael. The lighter side of the Berg, and other stories. Pietermaritzburg:

The Author, 2005. 159 p. illus. ISBN: 0-620-35620-0. R 128,00

CLARK, Rosanne. St Michael and All Angels Church, Himeville: history and celebration. Pietermaritzburg: Parish of Drakensberg Churches, 2007.

47 p. illus. R35,00

COGHLAN, Mark. The Natal (Bambatha) uprising 1906–2006: Trewirgie and the first sparks of the uprising in Natal: a quick guide… Pietermaritzburg:

Richmond, Byrne & District Museum, 2006. 10 p. illus., map. R15,00

COOVADIA, Imraan. Green-eyed thieves. Cape Town: Umuzi, 2006. 208 p.

ISBN: 1-4152-0009-2 208 p. R128,00

DE LA HARPE, Roger and Pat. Scenic KwaZulu-Natal. Roggebaai, Cape Town:

Sunbird Publishers, 2006. 112 p. illus. ISBN: 1-919-93841-0. R153, 00

DELMAR, Peter. The N3 book. Johannesburg: Parkview Press, 2006. 158 p. illus.

ISBN: 0-620-34175-0. R62,00

DENDY, Gail. The lady missionary. Cape Town: Kwela/Snailpress, 2007. 158 p. illus.

A book of poetry.

DERWENT, Sue. Kwazulu-Natal heritage sites: a guide to some great places.

Claremont: davidphilip, 2006. 94 p. illus., maps. ISBN: 0-86486-653-4.

R108,00

DORRIAN, Paul. Dancing with the customer: 101 lessons towards service supremacy. Johannesburg: Random House, 2007. R154,00

DOVEY, John, comp. and ed. Soldiers’ verse: an anthology of poetry. Durban:

Just Done Productions, 2006. 59 p. ISBN: 978-920169-27-5. R40,00.

website: http:// www.justdone.co.za

DUCKWORTH, Jenny, comp. and ed. Grey’s Hospital: transition and transformation, 1986–2006. Pietermaritzburg: Grey’s Hospital Board, 2007. 56 p. illus.

R50,00 for this and the earlier brochure covering the first 130 years of the

hospital.


DUNN, John. John Dunn, Cetywayo and the three generals; ed. by D.C.F. Moodie.

Durban: Priv. Print, 2006. 185 p. illus., map. R180,00. Facsimile reprint of the

Natal Printing and Publishing Co.’s 1886 edition, with foreword by Arthur

Königkrämer, Ron Lock and Peter Quantrill, and added illustrations.

EILERSEN, Gillian Stead. Bessie Head – thunder behind her ears: her life and writings. 2007. Reprint.

FLETCHER, Sally. I am a willow. Durban: Just Done Publications, 2006. 280 p.

ISBN: 10-1-920169-07-5 and 13-978-1-920169-07-7. R114,00

A novel. website:http:// www.justdone.co.za

FROW, Pat. Wheeling towards the prize. Claremont: PreText, 2006. 246 p. illus.

ISBN: 0-9584770-8-6

GARDINER, Nancy. The ultimate gardiner. Welgemoed: Metz Press, 2006.

ISBN: 1-919992-29-4. R234,00

GOLIGHTLY, Walton. Amazulu in the time of Shaka kaSenzangakhona, king of kings. Cape Town: Kwela, 2007. A novel.

GOVENDER, Pregs. Love and courage: a story of insubordination.

Johannesburg: Jacana, 2007.

GREAVES, Adrian. Crossing the Buffalo: the Zulu War of 1879.

Johannesburg: Jonathan Ball, 2005. 383 p. illus., maps. ISBN: 1-86842-222-4.

R184,00

GREAVES, Adrian and KNIGHT, Ian. Who’s who of the Anglo-Zulu War. Pen and

Sword, 2007. 2 vols.

GUY, Jeff. Remembering the Rebellion: the Zulu uprising of 1906. Pietermaritzburg:

University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2006. 197 p. illus., maps.

ISBN: 10-86914-117-2 and 13-978-1-86914-117-2. R184,00

HAGGARD, Henry Rider. Mameena and other plays: the complete dramatic works of H. Rider Haggard; ed. with an introduction and notes by Stephen Coan and

Alfred Tella. Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2007.

432 p. ISBN: 978-1-86914-099-1

JOHNSON, Shaun. The native commissioner. Johannesburg: Penguin, 2006. 143 p.

ISBN: 0-14302501-5. R244,00. A novel.

JONES, Huw M. The boiling cauldron: Utrecht district and the Anglo-Zulu War, 1879. Shermershill Press, 2006. 379 p. illus., maps. £45

KEVERNE, Gloria. The divine dawning. Pietermaritzburg: the Author, 2007.

KHUMALO, Fred. Bitches’ brew. Johannesburg: Jacana, 2006. 326 p.

ISBN: 1-77009-190-4 and 978-1-77009-190-0. R138,00. A novel.

LABAND, John, ed. Daily lives of civilians in wartime Africa: from slavery days to Rwandan genocide. Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-Natal Press,

2007. 302 p. ISBN: 978-1-86914-109-7. R195,00

LIEBENBERG, Brigitte. There and back again. Durban: Just Done Publications,

2006. 63 p. ISBN: 978-1-920169-2-51. R65,00

An anthology of poetry. website:http://www.justdone.co.za

MACHEN, Peter. Durban: a paradise and its people. Durban: eThekwini

Municipality, 2007. 384 p. illus., maps. ISBN: 978-0-620-38971-6. R185,00


MAGWAZA, Thenjiwe, SELETI, Yonah and SITHOLE, Mpilo Pearl, eds. Freedom sown in blood: memories of the Impi Yamakhanda: an indigenous knowledge systems perspective. Ditlou Publishers, 2006. 188 p. illus.

ISBN: 0-9585070-7-4. R187,00

MARTENS, Ronald F. Loyal Natal Unity Lodge, no. 4443, 1853–2003: a brief history. Pietermaritzburg: the Lodge, 2006. 20 p. illus. A history of the Odd

Fellows in Natal.

MDLALOSE, Frank Themba. My life.

MHLOPHE, Gcina. Our story magic. Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-

Natal Press, 2006. 100 p. ISBN: 978-1-86914-111-0. R145,00

MHLOPHE, Gcina. Stories of Africa. Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-Natal

Press, 2004. 64 p. ISBN: 978-1-86914-061-8. R99,00

MILLER, Kirsten. All is fish: a novel. Johannesburg: Jacana, 2007. Set in Zululand.

MILLS, Greg and WILLIAMS, Dave. Battles that shaped South Africa. Cape Town:

Tafelberg, 2006. 196 p. illus., maps. ISBN: 10-624-10298-7. R154,00

MKHIZE, Siyabonga. Uhlanga lwas’ Embo: the history of the Embo people. Durban:

Just Done Publications, 2007. ISBN: 978-1-920169-37-4. R130,00

website: http://www.justdone.co.za.

MOODLEY, Praba. A scent so sweet. Cape Town: Kwela, 2006.

A novel.

MOOLMAN, Kobus. Blind voices: a collection of radio plays. Botsotso Publishing,

2007.

MOOLMAN, Kobus. Separating the seas. Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-

Natal Press, 2007. 64 p. ISBN: 978-1-86914-124-0. R100,00.

A book of poetry.

MOORE, David. The World Bank: development, poverty, hegemony.

Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2007. 596 p.

ISBN: 978-1-86914-100-4. R225,00

NAIDOO, Phyllis. 156 hands that built South Africa: the 1956 Treason Trial. Durban: the Author, 2006. 470 p. illus. ISBN: 0-620-36092-5. R 200,00

NICHOLSON, Christopher. Papwa Sewgolum: from pariah to legend. Johannesburg:

Wits University Press, 2005. 195 p. illus. ISBN: 1-86814-411-9. R154,00

NICHOLSON, Christopher. Richard and Adolph: did Richard Wagner incite Adolph Hitler to commit the Holocaust? Jerusalem and New York: Gefen Publishers,

2007.

NKOSI, Lewis. Mandela’s ego. Cape Town: Umuzi, 2006. A novel.

NOLAN, Albert. Jesus today: a spirituality of radical freedom. Cape Town: Double

Storey, 2006. 220 p. ISBN: 1-77013-111-6. R145,00

PARLE, Julie. States of mind: searching for mental health in Natal and Zululand, 1868–1918. Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2007.

334 p. illus. ISBN: 13:978-1-86914-098-4. R194,00

PEARSE, R.O. Barrier of spears: drama of the Drakensberg; ed. by James Byrom,

photographs by Malcolm L. Pearse. Durban: Art Publishers, 2006. 394 p. illus.,

maps, diagrs. ISBN: 1-919-688-47-1. R400,00

Expanded edition of the 1973 publication.


PETERS, Anneliese. The Königkrämer family history. Durban: Partners in

Publishing, 2006. 94 p. illus. ISBN: 0-620-37126-9. R 150,00

PLAYER, Ian. Men, rivers and canoes. 2nd ed. Empangeni: Echoing Green Press,

2007. 232 p. illus. ISBN: 978-0-9802501-2-1. R240,00

POOLEY, Elsa. Forest plants in the forest and in the garden. Flora Publications

Trust, 2006. 72 p. illus. (Popular guides to the biomes of South Africa, 1)

R95,00

POYNTON, Richard, Mouse, Donna and Tasha. The Cleopatra Mountain Farmhouse cookbook. Kamberg: the Authors, 2006.

PROZESKY, Martin. Conscience: ethical intelligence for global well-being.

Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2007. 176 p.

ISBN: 13: 978-1-86914-097-7. R122, 00

RAKOCZY, Susan. Great mystics and social justice: walking on the two feet of love.

New York and Mahwah (NJ): Paulist Press, 2006. 217 p. illus.

ISBN: 978-0-8091-4307-8. R125,00

RAS, Fiona and Clare. Sprigs: fresh kitchen inspiration. Cape Town: Double Storey,

2006.

RATTRAY, David. A soldier artist in Zululand: William Whitelocke Lloyd and the Anglo-Zulu War of 1879. Cape Town: Rattray Publications, 2007. 259 p. illus.,

maps. ISBN: 978-0-37707-2. R1 400,00 plus R50 p&p

RIEDER-ALBERS, Veronica. The Albers family 1883. Cape Town: the Author, 2005.

218 p. illus., diagrs. ISBN: 0-620-34121-1. R483,00

SKOTNES, Pippa. Claim to the country: the archive of Wilhelm Bleek and Lucy Lloyd. Johannesburg and Athens (Ohio): Jacana and Ohio University Press,

2007. 308 p. illus. ISBN: 10:1-77009-337-0 and 13: 978-1-77009-337-9.

R354,00

Lucy Lloyd was the daughter of Archdeacon W.H.C. Lloyd, Durban’s first

Anglican minister, and Dr W.H.I. Bleek was his son-in-law.

SMITH, Barry. The farming handbook. Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-

Natal Press, 2006. ISBN: 1-86914-090-7. R245,00

SNELL, Milner. A small river in a great valley: a journey through old Umzimkulu.

Kokstad: the Author, 2006. 88 p. illus. R80,00

STOBIE, Cheryl. Somewhere in the double rainbow: representations of bisexuality in post-apartheid novels. Pietermaritzburg: University of KwaZulu-Natal Press,

2007. 307 p. ISBN: 13: 978-1-86914-130-1. R190,00

STRAUSS, Gertrud. Chapters of childhood. Durban: Solo, 2006. 164 p.

ISBN: 10-09802547-0-1 and 13-978-0-9802547-0-9. R90,00

SWEET, Reg. Pambili Bo: the story of Natal’s Spitfire Squadron. Dalbridge, Durban:

FAD Publishing, 2006. 62 p. illus. ISBN: 0-620-32052-4. R59,00

VAN DE RUIT, John. Spud – the madness continues. Johannesburg: Penguin, 2007.

341 p. ISBN: 978-0143-02520. R100,00

VAN DER WALT, J.C. Zululand true stories, 1780–1976. Richards Bay: the Author,

?2006. 191 p. illus., maps. ISBN: 0-620-3634-X. R130,00

VAN TONDER, Jan. Stargazer; translated from the Afrikaans by Elsa Silke. Cape

Town: Human & Rousseau, 2006. R128,00 A novel set in Durban.


VOLKER, Walter. The ‘Cotton Germans’ of Natal from Bramsche to New Germany: history of the Bergtheil colonists and their descendants, 1848–2006. Durban:

Just Done Publications, 2006. 723 p. illus., maps, diagrs.

ISBN: 978-0-620-36298-7. R300,00

Available from the Bergtheil Museum, Westville.

VON FINTEL, E. S. Die Nachkommen von Christoph Klipp (aus Eimke, Deutschland). Pietermaritzburg: the Author, 2006. 60 p. illus. R50,00

WEINBERG, Paul. Moving spirit: spirituality in Southern Africa. Cape Town:

Double Storey, 2006. R299,00

WYLIE, Dan. Myth of iron: Shaka in history. Pietermaritzburg: University of

KwaZulu-Natal Press, 2006. 615 p., maps, diagrs. ISBN: 1-86914-047-8.

R249,00

ZULU, Bhekizizwe Zeblon ka Nhlayenza ‘Nqama’. Umongo ka Zulu: the marrow of the Zulu nation. Cape Town: Lotsha Publications, 2005. 286 p. illus., map.

ISBN: 1-920019-38-3. R289,00

The assistance of the staffs of Exclusive Books and Book World, Cascades in compiling

the above list is gratefully acknowledged.

SHELAGH SPENCER

112 Notes on Contributors

Notes on ContributorsKEITH GREGGOR, now retired and living in KwaZulu-Natal, was professor of land

surveying in the University of the Witwatersrand.

GRAHAM HARRISON practised as an attorney in Pietermaritzburg, and after his years

as a Scout, was Cubmaster of the 3rd Pietermaritzburg Scout Group for fifty years

until his retirement in 2000. He is the holder of the Silver Protea, the highest

award in South African Scouting.

ADRIAN KOOPMAN is a professor in the School of isiZulu Studies on the

Pietermaritzburg campus of the University of KwaZulu-Natal. He has been

interested in heraldry for over forty years.

VAL WARD is the editor of the previously unpublished article, ‘My first African

excursion’. A Durban-born medical technologist, she became interested in people’s

past while living in Hong Kong. She came to Pietermaritzburg and the Natal

Museum’s Archaeology Department in 1978 from which she retired in 1998. She

has published research articles in both fields since the middle 1950s.

natalia 36-37 (2007) complete

Documents

anna maria entrop

dr van velden

king edward vii

chief mangosuthu buthelezi

rst african excursion

de waals place

dr hans sauer

umzinyathi district municipality