FESTIVAL TO SALUTE OLIVE

Olive Schreiner will be saluted in Cradock from July 2 to 4. The man behind this idea is Darryl David, co- founder of Richmond’s Book Town Festival and a lecturer at the University of KwaZulu-Natal in Pietermaritzburg. Sandra Antrobus, owner of Die Tuishuise, in Cradock, helped him plan this Spirit of Schreiner Festival. “While working one day we said wouldn’t it be fun if Olive Schreiner could come down from Buffelskop and tell us what she’d like for this inaugural festival. The idea took hold and we chatted about how chuffed she would be to join hundreds of literary pilgrims, how she may love taking them on a visit to the house where she lived and showing them around. After that, we thought, she might take them to the church she attended and perhaps invite them to walk with her to the Library and later go on to the old Victoria Hotel one of the places she loved in old Cradock,” says Darryl. “Once Olive had introduced visitors to Cradock, we thought she may like to take them to the house at Mountain Zebra National Park, where her magnum opus, The Story of an African Farm, was filmed. There Olive, wide-eyed and full of interest, would be able to sit and listen to experts such as Stephen Gray, Etienne van Heerden, Paul Walters and Basil Mills explaining why she is regarded as South Africa’s first literary superstar. After that, we would all walk with her back to her final resting place, at Buffelskop, bid her farewell and salute her greatness. This imaginary exercise was great fun – then, Sandra and I realised, we’d planned the entire festival, so we now invite literary pilgrims to come to Cradock and discover ‘Schreiner Country’,” says Darryl.

IN-DEPTH LOOK AT INDIGENOUS WEATHER BELIEFS

Peter Alcock, a lecturer at the University of KwaZulu-Natal in Pietermaritzburg, is putting the finishing touches to a book on indigenous weather beliefs. It will be published in October. Rainbows in the Mist: Indigenous Weather Knowledge, Beliefs and Folklore in South Africa, is the product of years of in-depth research into legends and weather-related stories of the Great Karoo and other regions rich in San and other indigenous folklore. “At last the journey’s done and I am delighted,” says Peter. “Finding the material, getting it all together in logical form, checking and re-checking was indeed a long haul. At times I questioned whether it was worthwhile continuing, but I am glad I soldiered on. Now only the last few potholes on the road need to be negotiated and then 500 copies of the book will be printed. It is likely that the book will only be directly available from the South African Weather Service and not from traditional bookshops, unless specifically ordered through them. As yet, I have no idea as to the cost.” Rainbows in the Mist: ended up being just short of 600 typed single-spaced pages. The book includes seven maps showing place names connected to weather and climate and the reference list is over 50 pages long. The book will be available to researchers at legal deposit libraries in Pretoria, Cape Town, Pietermaritzburg and possibly Bloemfontein.

MAJOR MILESTONE JUST AROUND THE CORNER

Rose’s Round-up will soon turn 200. It was started in January 1993, to inform six town clerks of what the Central Karoo Tourism Office was doing and planning. Since then it has appeared monthly. Beaufort West’s then town clerk, Jan van der Merwe, saw its potential and asked for copies for his Council. His colleagues followed his lead, and councillors passed copies on to interested villagers. Soon the mailing list was extended to include the Press, Western Cape Tourism Board, other tourism authorities and people interested in the Karoo in South Africa and abroad. While living in Beaufort West I produced 116 issues, since moving to Bloemfontein I’ve compiled 81, so issue number 200 will appear in October this year.

NEEDED – MONEY AND A BANK

The year was 1834 and the day, typical of November in London, was cold, drab and damp, yet on the Thames embankment one man had hope in his heart. He was Theophilus Phillipps and he had come to the Houses of Parliament to ask the British Government to establish a bank in South Africa. In his bag was a petition from merchants, farmers, traders and other businessmen of the “South African frontier districts”. All faced daily economic trials and tribulations, and all had pinned their hopes on a bank. The story of First National Bank, The First 150 Years, published in 1988, states that despite the cold Phillipps met with warm response. The treasury officials listened in awe to his exciting tales of life on the frontier, continual wars against the Xhosa, droughts, vagrants, mischievous migrants and the difficulties of farming. They nodded sagely and sympathetically throughout his presentation. They were truly interested in reports of developing towns and in hearing that the developing wool industry was contributing to the economies of towns such as Beaufort West, Cradock and Graaff-Reinet. “These brave pioneers need a bank,” said Theophilus. “There is no currency in the area. Most transactions are done through barter and, gentlemen, can you imagine just how this frustrating and inconvenient this is?” They could. Her Majesty’s men of the Treasury were astonished to hear that tortoise shell, ivory and hides were basic currency in the South African hinterland, but despite their sage nods, feined interest and gracious gasps, Theophilus came away empty handed. It was dark when he stepped from the warm government offices into the cold street – he was disappointed, but he was not ready to give up.

A BANK, AT LAST, BUT IT DISPLEASED THE TREASURY

Theophilus Phillipps continued to lobby the British Treasury throughout the long English winter without any luck. Clearly these men understood what he was telling them, but they would not be moved to action. Two years passed before it was announced that the Cape of Good Hope Bank was to open for business on August l, 1837. The news greatly displeased Her Majesty’s men. It heralded the dawn of an era of private banking in the Colony. A year later The Standard Bank opened in Cape Town and, by 1838 the men of the frontier had opened their own Eastern Province Bank in Grahamstown. This was the start of First National Bank which developed against a complex backdrop buyouts and amalgamations.

MORE BANKS FOR THE KAROO

After the slaves were freed farming became more difficult in the Karoo. In the mid-1830s J H Hattingh, one of the men who decided to trek, wrote: “The Boers now are completely deprived of labourers. They, together with their children have to do all the work and tend to the livestock. It is no longer possible to farm in the Colony.” In a manifesto Piet Retief also outlined reasons to trek and his niece, Anna Steenkamp, complained of the “disgraceful injustice of emancipating our slaves.” So, the trekkers departed, but neither their going nor the shortage of labour seems to have had much impact on the developing economy, states The First 150 Years. Wool production expanded and exports increased. By 1840 wool was the Colony’s most important export product. More banks opened. A meeting in the Government School Room at Graaff-Reinet heard that the town was prospering mainly due to the export of wool. The chairman called for yet another bank and his audience, both English and Dutch, enthusiastically agreed. Within half an hour 2455 shares were subscribed and on September l, 1854, the South African Central Bank opened for business in Graaff-Reinet with a capital of £40 000. Her Majesty’s men shook their heads, wool, wine and ostrich feathers, they said, were hardly good foundations on which to base an economy. South Africa and particularly frontier wars were costing them money. Yet, in 1858 despite the British Treasury’s misgivings another bank – The Cradock Union Bank – opened in the Karoo. Competition became fierce, some banks took severe knocks, others failed, but the discovery of diamonds lay ahead and in time added a new dimension that catapulted banking into the modern world.

SHORT OF CASH – PLANT A SPEKBOOM

Spekboom, a well-known Karoo succulent, is said to be a popular pot plant in Australia. There it is known as Jade or simply called a “money tree.” The Aussies believe that if you keep one of these plants near the front door of your home you will always have plenty of money. Perhaps it only works if spekboom is grown as a pot plant indoors, otherwise the whole of Swartberg range, parts of the Klein Karoo and the road to The Hell would be covered in riches.

NEW LIGHT ON OLD CRASH

Nelspoort farmer, Pieter Lund, of Bleakhouse, remembers the 1949 air crash which claimed the lives of Lieut Frank Upton and Johan Claassen (Round-up No 78, March 2010). At the time he was a Std 8 pupil at Beaufort West High School and with some of his pals dashed out to the airport to find out what had happened. “I remember the horror of the still smouldering wreckage,” he said. “The remains of the plane lay alongside the runway, a crumpled mass of blackened iron. The engine, torn from its mountings, lay about 10 meters away in front of the plane. All around the ground had been blackened by burning aircraft fuel. A scorched parachute lay in a crumpled heap on the ground.” Pieter’s great love of history sent him to the Beaufort West Museum to find a copy of The Courier of April 27, 1949, which reported the accident. The paper was so frail, yellow and brittle, that he copied out the salient facts. A dramatic headline stated: “Terrible Accident at Drome – Two Men Dead in Wrecked Plane.” The copy explained: “Lieut Frank Upton of the South African Air Force, and Johan Claassens, a first-year medical student at Cape Town University, whose parents Mr and Mrs S Claassens, live here at Hillside, were killed instantly on Monday at 3.45 p.m. when a Harvard, piloted by Lieut Upton crashed at the drome. Eye witness accounts state that Lieut Upton, and Claassens went up for a test flight. Suddenly, after the plane had been airborne for some time, it dived for the drome, hit the edge of the runway and burst into flames. The accident was seen by two of Claassen’s friends, Victor Dubowitz and Jordan Breytenbach, also medical students who are here on holiday with their parents.” It appears the three students, accompanied by some youngsters from town, went out to the airport early in the afternoon to see a private plane, however, when they got there it had already left. Just as they were about to leave the Harvard landed. It was en route from Bloemfontein to Cape Town, but because they were advised that the Brooklyn airfield was unserviceable due to bad weather, Lieut Upton and his mechanic decided to refuel and overnight in Beaufort West.

NEWS TAKES THE TOWN BY STORM

The town spoke of nothing else but this accident for days,” says Pieter. “And typical of Beaufort West, the whole community rallied round extending sincere condolences and support to Johan Claassens’s parents.” Fireman Gush and his crew dashed out at once and extinguished the flames but were not able to save the two men. Both were killed instantly. Eyewitnesses stated that after the plane had been serviced Claassens and the pilot were seen standing off to one side in deep conversation. It seems they chatted for quite some time, then boarded the plane and took off. By the time The Courier reporter and Pieter and his friend arrived the bodies of the two men had already been removed and taken in to town. The Courier stated that “Now and then licks of flames leapt from the smouldering wreckage but were quickly put out by the firemen. Here and there smoke rose, now and then a flame darted out and tried to run across the ground, but these were quickly snuffed out with sand. A blood covered joy-stick lay nearby and faintly discernable amid the wreckage were the blood-spattered seats of the ill-fated men.” The newspaper made no mention of the mechanic’s name, nor was he interviewed. “It also does not seem as if the SAAF conducted an enquiry into this crash,” says Pieter. “One wonders whether we will ever know exactly what happened. Perhaps Claassens was keen on flying and maybe Lieut Upton thought he would treat him as he had time on his hands. Whatever the story, it sadly cost both their lives.”

WHEN THE TORTOISES COME TO TOWN

Few ‘plattelanders’ finding a tortoise in their back yard pause to consider that the poor creature may simply be thirsty. However, this is often the case, writes High Forsyth in an amusing item in the Prince Albert Friend of January 2010. ‘Mostly the well-meaning citizens simply load the creature up and return it to its natural habitat – a barren piece of parched veld. This means that the poor creature, which is probably 40 or 50 years old and possibly weighs in at about 20 kilograms, has arrived right where it set off from a few days earlier, only this time thirstier, very irritated and thinking to itself: ‘Dear heaven, what fools humans are. Here I am back where I started from! Now I’ve got to set off for town again in search of water!’” Prince Albert’s Val van der Riet put his theory to the test and gave a huge mountain tortoise that arrived in her garden dish after dish of water. The tortoise slurped up litre after litre without even lifting its head, then, at last replete, it set off at a steady pace for Gordon’s Koppie. The other side of the coin was Mr Canning who laboriously struggled to return a tortoise to the veld only to have it urinate all over his pants as he was putting it down. “Tortoises have their own way of expressing displeasure,” says Hugh.

IN SEARCH OF THE TREKBOERS

In the middle of the last century Lennox van Onselen set off from Victoria West in search of the last remnants of the trekboers. He found them on the desolate plains of the north-west Cape, the limitless wastes of Bushmanland and in the Kalahari Desert and he wrote an entertaining book simply called Trekboer, detailing his adventures during this search. The land, which he likens to a tattered sheepskin, might have been inhospitable, but not so the people. They welcomed him whenever he found them and were always ready to share their humble shelters and meagre rations. He once thought to reciprocate and offered a far-flung trekboer what he considered a delicious cup of coffee made with bottled water. The man took one mouthful, spat it out in disgust and would not drink any more till he had added a liberal amount of salt. “This proved just how long he had been used to drinking brak water,” said Lennox.

THE ROUTE OF THE ONE-LEGGED WANDERER

At one location on his travels Lennox van Onselen found an old coloured man with only one leg. A proud owner of a donkey cart he endlessly travelled an eternal circle with his wife and children. “The old man told me he was entitled to draw a pension of two pounds sterling a month but could only draw this at Hutchinson on the 25th of each month. Municipal regulations prevented him from outspanning his donkeys for more than 48 hours along the road or on municipal ground, so he evolved an elaborate route. This enabled him to travel in a wide circle, camping at certain defined outspans for the allotted time, then moving on to his next 48-hour destination. In this way this crippled old man would reach Hutchinson on the 25th of each month to draw his pension. This done, he would set off on his eternal circle once again. The old man said he had been circling the Karoo in this way for eight years. His only concern was that his donkeys might die and leave him stranded.

WELCOMED AT A MAT HOUSE

Lennox van Onselen almost missed the encampment, but then suddenly there it was. He stopped and greeted to trekboer. “I nearly missed you, Uncle,” he said, ‘but I am so glad to have found you at last.” A curly tailed dog sidled up wagging its tail with glee. The man’s face creased into a smile. “Boet, I’ve been watching you for a long time. You can’t stalk anyone in this land – it’s so flat you can see a tortoise coming for miles.” He invited Van Onselen into his mat house. “The encampment consisted of a tented wagon, small cart with rubber wheels and a mat house with a screen of bushes drawn around in a half circle as a wind-break. The wagon had a canvas stretched out beside it, one end tied to some bushes and the other supported by poles. The tented wagon had two cast iron beds in it, each covered with a kaross of jackal skins and over that a blue and white patchwork-type counterpane. The mat house was interesting. Constructed something like a shed it had four mat walls and a mat roof. A highly mobile abode it could be erected and taken down quickly and easily. They mat houses serve the trekboer as no other shelter does. Generally, they are constructed of woven mats slung over poles or laths. The slightest breeze stirs the walls and fans the occupants inside. They are quite water proof, but in the arid zone where they are found, rain is not a phenomenon to be taken into account.” The man’s wife appeared almost immediately with two pots in her hands, ready to feed the visitor and declaring what a luxury it was to see a stranger.

MEASURING DISTANCE, THE BURCHELL WAY

In his account of his Travels in Southern Africa William Burchell states that he devised a way of measuring distance with a certain degree of correctness. “The measure of each day’s journey was extremely simple, and perhaps the only practicable one that can be adapted to the circumstances of this mode of travelling,” he wrote. “By repeated trials I obtained the exact length of ground over which the greater wheel passed in a single, or rather in a certain number of revolutions. This was done by measuring the track, which for this purpose gives a truer result than by taking the circumference of the wheel itself. From this I constructed two tables. The one showed any distance in any number of revolutions; and from this could readily be known the measure of any short space by counting the number of times the wheel revolved. These were marked by a leathern thong which always remained tied round one of the spokes. The other table was used for showing the rate of travelling per hour. This was deduced from the number of revolutions made in one minute.”

Science may be learned by rote, but not wisdom – Laurence Stern