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TRANSCRIPT
i
CAPE TOWN TO
CAIRO
A Record by Jessie Webb
of Her Journey With
Georgina Sweet in 1922
Transcript of existing letters and diary, with photographs, added
maps, footnotes, photographs and introduction
By Margaret O’Callaghan, Canberra, 2013
Copyright © O’Callaghan, Margaret, 2013
Reproduction allowed with acknowledgements of source.
Privately published in 2013
Margaret O’Callaghan, Editor, 1945-.
Cape Town to Cairo – A record by Jessie Webb of her journey with Georgina Sweet
in 1922
Transcript of original letters and diary, photographs and news coverage, with added
maps, footnotes, introduction and commentary, with bibliography.
Historical travel.
Includes bibliography.
ISBN 978-0-9875516-0-3
1.Jessie Webb, 1880-1944. 2. History. 3. Cape Town to Cairo travel 4. Georgina
Sweet, 1875-1946.
Cover design: The editor
i
DEDICATED
TO
Jane Lauder (Jeannie) Watson (1851-1916)
To whom fell the responsibility of bringing up ‘Our Jessie’ from
childhood, and who so admirably fulfilled those duties. Her own dreams1 may
not have been fulfilled but her ward excelled in ways she could never have
imagined.
“Clarior Hinc Honos”
“Henceforth forward the honour shall grow ever brighter”2
and
Margaret Ellen (Peggy) Haynes (1909-1987)
Barbara Haynes (Williams) (1912-1997)
Jeannie’s Great-Nieces, who, luckily for us, preserved family history.
1 As expressed in her 1870 Diary
2 Buchanan family clan motto
ii
CONTENTS
Maps ..............................................................................................................................iii
Tables ............................................................................................................................iii Photographs/Illustrations ..............................................................................................iii Country names used in 1922 and now .......................................................................... iv Glossary ........................................................................................................................ iv Acronyms ....................................................................................................................... v
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ......................................................................................... vii PART 1: FORWARD .................................................................................................... 1
1.1 INTRODUCTION ............................................................................................... 1 1.2 BIOGRAPHIES OF THE TRAVELLERS .......................................................... 3 1.3 SYNOPSIS ......................................................................................................... 16
1.4 HISTORY OF THE MATERIALS ................................................................... 17 1.5 DESCRIPTION OF THE MATERIALS ........................................................... 17
1.6 ROUTE TAKEN AND DURATION OF COUNTRY VISITS ....................... 24 1.7 LETTER ADDRESSEES .................................................................................. 27
1.8 COMMENTARY ............................................................................................... 28 PART 2. TRANSCRIPTS ............................................................................................ 32
2.1. TRANSCRIPT OF LETTERS .......................................................................... 32 2.2 TRANSCRIPT OF THE DIARY ..................................................................... 108 2.3 TRANSCRIPT OF ANOTHER LETTER ....................................................... 146
2.3. TRANSCRIPT OF OTHER WRITINGS IN THE DIARY ........................... 151 PART 3: PRESS AND OTHER COVERAGE OF JOURNEY ................................ 153
3.1 Press Coverage ................................................................................................. 153 3.1.1 Women’s World, the Melbourne Monthly, March 1922 .......................... 153 3.1.2 Melbourne Argus, 1 March 1923 .............................................................. 153
3.1.3 Melbourne Argus, 20 April 1923 .............................................................. 154 3.1.4
Wyvern (Queen’s College 1.1.1923, 39. ................................................. 154 3.1.5 Brisbane Courier, Tuesday 24 July 1923 ................................................. 154 3.1.6 Melbourne University Magazine, August 1923, 130 ................................ 155
3.1.7 The Register, Adelaide, 12 Feb 1924 ........................................................ 155 3.1.8 Daily New Perth, 21 Feb. 1924 ................................................................. 155
3.1.9 Sydney Morning Herald, 22 Feb. 1924 ..................................................... 156 3.1.10 The Advertiser, Adelaide, 28 Feb 1924 .................................................. 157 3.1.11 Barrier Miner (Broken Hill), 8 March 1924 ........................................... 158
3.1.12 The Brisbane Courier, 7th
June, 1924, .................................................... 158 3.1.13 Brisbane Courier, 5 Oct. 1925 ................................................................ 158
3.1.14 Brisbane Courier, 23 Nov. 1932 ............................................................. 158 3.1.15 Papers on Various Australian Women, ................................................... 159
3.1.16 Australian Women’s Digest, Jan. 1946, 27 ............................................. 160 REFERENCES .......................................................................................................... 161
iii
Maps 1. The entire route travelled
2. South Africa
3. Southern and northern Rhodesia
4. Belgian Congo
5. Tanganyika and Zanzibar
6. Kenya
7. Uganda
8. Detail of Albert Nile-Nimule-Rejaf safari route
9. Sudan and Egypt
Tables Table 1. Watson Family Tree, relevant part only
Table 2. Dates, route, mode of travel, duration and evidence of journey stages
Photographs/Illustrations (All JW’s photographs in UMA)
1. Portrait of Jessie Stobo Webb (MUA)
2. Portrait of the Watson sisters, 1877 (family records))
3. Jessie Stobo Webb, aged 27, 1907 (Mary Stewart Webb’s family collection)
4. Portrait of Georgina Sweet (MUA)
5. Untitled. Georgina Sweet on deck of SS Ulysses on the way to Africa (JW)
6. Photo of a page from a letter
7. Train and boat timetable (Faith, 1990)
8. “Women washing, Umgeni River”, Durban (JW)
9. Sketch of a Dutch Cape house roofline (JW)
10. Sketch of Table Mountain, Cape Town. (JW)
11. “The Horderns at Ferndene Hotel” (JW)
12. “Rickshaw driver with head-dress, snapped from rickshaw” [at Durban] (JW)
13. “Modderfontein Estate – the house”, near Pretoria (JW)
14. “Galloping native, snapped from train” (presumably in South Africa or
Bechuanaland (JW)
15. “(Great) Zimbabwe homestead” (JW)
16. Native mine worker’s huts, Katanga (Shay)
17. Sketch of Elizabethville (JW)
18. Louis Cousin, 1920 (Shantz))
19. Advertisement for Impreial Hotel, Kampala (Tabor)
20. “Mr Whitworth’s hut at Meru” (JW)
21. Sketch map (JW)
22. Sketch of a head-dress (JW)
23. Government motor van, Uganda, 1911 (Gann and Duignan)
24. The type of carrying arrangements used on safari (Pettifer and Bradley)
25. Sketch of skirt (JW)
26. Sketch of hut (JW)
27. Untitled. Appears to be a wood station on the Nile in the Sudan (JW)
28. Untitled. Appears to be one of the stops on the Nile in the Sudan (JW)
iv
29. Untitled. It appears to be a wood loading point on the Nile in the Sudan (JW)
30. Sketch of hurricane/safari lamp (JW)
31. The Nile in flood and first glimpse of the desert opposite Kawa (JW).
Photographs/Illustrations by:
JW - photographs or sketches
UMA – University of Melbourne Archives
Others as referenced in the document
Country names used in 1922 and now.
Union of South Africa – Republic of South Africa
Bechuanaland Protectorate – Republic of Botswana
Southern Rhodesia – Republic of Zimbabwe
British South Africa Company Chartered Territory3 then Northern Rhodesia –
Republic of Zambia
Belgian Congo - Democratic Republic of the Congo
Mandated Territory of Tanganyika – United Republic of Tanzania
Kenya Colony – Republic of Kenya
Uganda Protectorate – Republic of Uganda
Anglo-Egyptian Sudan (or Soudan) – Republic of the Sudan and South Sudan
Egypt – Arab Republic of Egypt
Glossary Apana (hahana) – no (Swahili)
Apana missoure (hapana mzuri) – not good (Sw)
Askari – Indigenous East African (or Arabic) soldier
Bey –Turkish term for a chief, used later for a District Administrator /military man
Blanco – washing soap, bar or powder
Buttonies – English type of biscuit, also known as bachelor’s buttons
Cerise scallops – presumably a blouse with scalloped edging in a cerise colour
Cooks – Thomas Cook’s travel agency
Dobie (dhobi) – washerman
Dragoman – guide, translator
Duka – small Indian run shop (Sw)
Erissa – the cook who travelled with them from Nimule to Rejaf
Fawn suede-tick that gives relapsing fever (probably of the Rickettesia family)
Funde - expert
Gwenda or givendra (Kwenda) – go on or go (Sw)
Judu (Dudu) – insect (Swahili)
Kabaka – Baganda King, Uganda
Kanga (kanzu) – length of cloth worn tied around waste, East African
Katikere – Baganda Prime Minister, Uganda
Kesho – tomorrow
Kopje – small rocky hill
3 For ease of comprehension the term “Northern Rhodesia” will be used when referring to what was at
that time the Chartered Territory, a practice in line with Marcosson’s usage during his 1920 visit (p.76).
v
Kosia - the cook from Kampala, who returned to Kampala when they reached
Memsahib - missus
Missouri – all right (Sw)
Mustapha – a Kenyan Askari (soldier) who accompanied them from Nimule to Rejaf
on the safari leg of the journey
Jambo – Greeting (Sw)
Mafewa - (mapema) early (Sw)
Mamur – Chief District Officer (Egyptian)
Manowari – warship (Sw)
Marie – common type of English biscuit
Mavukola (Kolo) – their attendant on the river boat from Bukama
Mende – cockroach (Sw)
Missouri (Mzuri) – good, all right (Sw)
Momina – married woman (Sudan)
Moto – boy, in Uganda
Nyanza - lake
Nyempasa (Nyapara) – headman or head porter
Picannin – baby or young child
Pukka – first class, good
Puttees – below knee leggings worn by soldiers
Quft – Originally known as Coptus, on east bank of Nile, 38 kms NE of Luxor,
important trade centre and gateway to the mining resources of the Eastern Desert from
earliest times and a major trans-shipment point in Greco-Roman times, excavated in
1910/11.
Safari – travelling on foot or being carried in a hammock or some sort, with a string of
porters carrying one’s luggage
Sandle - barge
Schibo – The Katikiro’s secretary/scribe
Sekibobo – Baganda Chief
Shamba – vegetable garden
Sigare (sigara) – cigarette (Sw)
Sun Time – versus Government time, central Africa used two systems of telling the
time
Toto – small child
Tuckel – tukel - round hut, usually made with mud walls with a grass roof
Reis – very experienced African navigator on the Nile
Wrangler – in Mathematics, an old English term for someone with prizes in the
subject
Acronyms ADC Assistant District Commissioner
ANU The Australian National University
BSACT British South African Chartered Territory
CSM – Church Missionary Society
DC District Commissioner
FN Footnote
GS Georgina Sweet
HRH His Royal Highness
JW Jessie Webb
JSWW Jessie Stobo Watson Webb
vi
K.A.R. - King’s African Rifles, a multi-battalion British colonial regiment raised from
the various British possessions in East Africa from 1902 until independence in the
1960s. It performed both military and internal security functions within the East
African colonies as well as external service. Rank and file were called askaris.
Km Kilometre
Mt Metre
NB Note well
nd No date
NLA National Library of Australia
OBE Order of the British Empire
PC Provincial Commissioner
RC – Roman Catholic
SA South Africa
SR Southern Rhodesia
UMA University of Melbourne Archives
YWCA Young Women’s Christian Association
vii
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I especially wish to acknowledge Professor Emeritus Ronald Ridley of
Melbourne University for his numerous contributions to the preparation of this
document. Not only was his Jessie Webb - A Memoir the starting point for this
project, and the source of much information, but he shared my delight in the discovery
of her Africa diary and my undertaking of the transcription. His subsequent on-going
support and advice regarding its preparation has been very helpful to a non-history
trained researcher. I am especially grateful to him for the considerable amount of time
he took in responding to my many queries, checking for the missing information, and,
excitingly, finding some of it, as well as contributing to the editing. However, any
errors or weaknesses in the final presentation are my own.
My long-time friend Margaret Nichols, formerly of the National Library of
Australia, also played a valuable role in helping to proof-read the transcripts and
provided on-going professional and moral support during the exercise. Thanks also go
to my other friends and children who have patiently put up with my endless chatter on
the subject and politely enquired “How is Jessie getting on?” – as if she was living in
my house – which her spirit definitely was doing. Some friends also provided
valuable advice on how the document should be put together, including Associate
Professor David Lucas, Dr Kristine Klugman AO, Stephanie Fehre and Barbara
Muirhead. My overseas correspondents Malcolm Asquith, Charles Rae and Dave
Skippings also very generously contributed information.
I also wish to acknowledge the support of Professor Tessa Morris-Suzuki of
ANU, with whom I did a joint seminar on our respective women travellers for the
ANU Division of Pacific and Asian History in November 2009, and to Dr Peter
Stanley who recognized the value of the record.
My thanks also go to the Melbourne University Archives and Library staff for
their assistance in locating and forwarding the material to me in Canberra and to my
eldest son Benjamin O’Callaghan and friend Dr Geoffrey Munyeme who provided IT
support.
Last but not least, I also wish to acknowledge family members: Firstly, the
aunts, Peggy and Barbara who had the foresight to keep family records (although
ignored by the younger generation in their life-times) and secondly, my cousin,
Professor James Watson Goding who first sent me Professor Ridley’s Memoir which
sparked off this project. He and his wife, Associate Professor Emanuela Handman,
also provided me with warm hospitality when I visited Melbourne to work with the
original diary in the University of Melbourne Archives. Other relatives, including
Margaret Slatter and Annette Webb, kindly provided some family information and
material which added to the background.
1
PART 1:FORWARD
1.1 INTRODUCTION
Jessie Webb was one of my maternal relatives and well known in our family
for her academic achievements, which, for the time, were unusual. Professor Ridley’s
Memoir provided fascinating insights into the life of our illustrious forebear but my
attention was particularly drawn to Chapter Five which mentioned Jessie’s travels,
including how she and Georgina Sweet had journeyed from Cape to Cairo in 1922.
Being something of an Africanophile and having not long returned from living and
travelling there, it seemed a pity that there was so little information available on what
surely must have been a very exciting journey.
Soon afterwards I consulted the internet and came across mention of Jessie’s
diary of the journey in the Australian Women’s Archive’s records – material which
had not been available to Professor Ridley for his 1994 publication. Melbourne
University Archives, which owned the diary (and also only a small number of related
photographs), kindly sent me a photocopy which I then transcribed. But to my
surprise I found that the record began in Uganda, halfway through the journey. So
where was the first half, if indeed it had been recorded? Communications with
Professor Ridley followed and considerable digging and delving by him led to his
fortuitously discovering some of the missing information. This material was in the
form of letters (or portions thereof) and he found them in one of Jessie’s Professors’
archives4. Searching amongst family members unfortunately failed to un-earth any
other related material so the record remains incomplete.
However, sufficient material existed to provide a reasonably good overview of
the whole journey. Transcription was completed and editing and mapping (which
hadn’t been included in either the letters or diary) were undertaken. Together this
work has resulted in a comprehensible record of the journey being available for the
first time.
While I have not had the advantage of academic training in history, I have
brought to this project a background in research, knowledge from my large personal
Africana library and contacts in the area, first-hand experience of some of the places
referred to, and of course, family knowledge and records.
This research has inspired the collection of other pre-Second World War Cape
to Cairo stories and the writing of two papers, which are included in this document5
and the other, forthcoming, is an analysis and commentary on Jessie’s record. In
addition, further research is also being undertaken on other travellers, with the
intention of compiling the information into a book on the history of early Cape to
Cairo journeys, including a section on women and on Australians. Given that Jessie’s
record is now being published for the first time, it will also rate inclusion in the global
literature on the subject.
4 R. M. Crawford, Box History, Box X, MUA
5 See O’Callaghan, 2009 and 2013
2
I must beg Cousin Jessie’s pardon for going public with what she regarded to
be personal communications with family and friends but given their historical value
and the continuing public interest in Cape to Cairo journeys I would hope for
forgiveness, if not a blessing. I suspect that she and Georgina would be proud to be
considered amongst other intrepid women travellers/writers of the period and happy
too that I, another African traveller, had become the editor.
Margaret O’Callaghan
Jessie’s first-cousin, twice removed on the maternal Watson. Also a fellow African traveller who lived
and worked in Africa for seven years and who has also written extensively about her own travels.
Currently a Visiting Fellow at the Australian National University, researching the socio-economic
impact of mining in Zambia, and continuing research into the history of early Cape to Cairo journeys.
Canberra, Australia
2013
3
1.2 BIOGRAPHIES OF THE TRAVELLERS
Illus 1. Jessie Stobo Watson Webb (Courtesy of the UMA)
There’s Jess, the prepar’d, the learned, the frail.
The heroine fair of many a tale,
Our children’s grandchildren shall quote her in song,6
Jessie Stobo Watson Webb (1880-1944)7 was born near Tumut, New South Wales on
1st August 1880 where her father Charles Webb (1855-89) was manager of Ellerslie
sheep and cattle station. He was born in New Zealand of English extraction. Her
mother, Jessie Stobo Watson (1849-1880), was born in Scotland and migrated to
Melbourne in 1857 with her family. They included her father, Thomas Lauder Watson
(1820-94), a warehousing and soft-goods importer and mother Jessie Stobo, nee
Thompson (1825-1908), and five siblings (five more were born in Australia). Jessie
(Webb) was therefore the third generation with the Christian names ‘Jessie Stobo’.
For ten years the Watson family lived at the well-known Glenfern 8in East St Kilda
before it was sold to the famous Boyd family in 1876. This was before the youngest
Jessie was born but it was there that her aunt (and later her foster mother) Jeannie
Watson wrote in 1870 her diary which provides a wonderful vignette of life in
suburban Melbourne at that time, and also something of the nature of the Watson
family and its author who was to become so important in Jessie’s life9.
6 Extract from Enid Durham’s doggerel composed for the Catalyst Club on 15
th March 1924 at the time
of Jessie’s return from overseas, quoted in Ridley, p 89. And indeed she is being quoted, albeit by a
cousin one step across and two down on the ‘Family Tree’ 7 Sources: Ridley, MacCullum, ADB and family sources
8 Glenfern http://www.nattrust.com.au/misc/glenfern
9 Watson, 1870
4
Jessie’s life commenced with a tragedy, unfortunately common to that period.
Her mother died four days after giving birth near Tumut, just before her first wedding
anniversary. A further tragedy followed nine years later when her father Charles died
in a buggy accident, also up in the mountains. She was therefore brought up by her
maiden aunt Jeannie, initially at Ellerslie, and later in Melbourne with the large
Watson family (twenty-five cousins in Jessie’s generation) and in contact with her
father’s relations, who were also quite numerous.
Illus. 2. The Watson sisters, Melbourne circa 1870, Jeannie (JW’s aunt and foster mother),
Jessie (JW’s mother) and Maggie (JW’s aunt and this editor’s Great Grandmother). (Family records).
Despite those set-backs, or perhaps because of them, the funds that Jessie’s
father wisely left for her education were well used. She excelled at school,
matriculating at age sixteen and went on to Melbourne University where she studied
the Classics and graduated with a BA with first class honours in 1902 and an MA in
1904. She taught in private schools for a number of years, including being principal
of one, and also tutored at the University. From December 1908 she was appointed as
an evening lecturer, teaching Ancient and British history, finally becoming a full time
lecturer in 1911. She subsequently served for thirty-six years, under three professors -
Elkington, Scott and Crawford. She was Acting Professor of History on three
occasions, including at the time of her death. According to Ridley10
, her workload was
often extremely heavy. In recognition of her long service to the History Department a
library is named after her.
A significant part of Jessie’s life was her very active involvement in women’s
organizations, commencing in her student days with the Princess Ida Club and later
the Lyceum (including being president 1920/22) and the Catalyst Clubs. She was also
a founding member of the Victorian Women Graduates’ Association (and its president
from 1924/6), and of the Victorian Historical Society. These organizations provided
her with a rich social and intellectual life and she became a core member of a very
10
Ridley, p. 124
5
active cohort of those early women graduates. Many of them stayed close friends for
life and were actively involved in supporting women’s issues.
Table 1. Watson Family Tree (names mentioned in this record only)
6
In 1923, in recognition of her active role in women’s affairs and high
reputation, the Prime Minister appointed her as a “substitute representative” or
“alternate delegate” (which was what women’s positions were called) of the
Australian delegation to the League of Nations meeting in Geneva. While this
appointment may have been partially due to her near-by presence in Greece at the
time, it was still very much an honour. On return to Australia she gave many talks on
the experience and the associated issues.
Jessie was also a founder of the Women’s College at Melbourne University
which was opened in 1937 and helped to raise funds for Women Graduates’
scholarships. She was involved in extension work related to country teaching and
adult education and also in the Australian Federation of University Women. In 1935,
her many contributions to Victorian society were recognized with the award a Silver
Jubilee Medal of George V, one of 1,400 Victorians to be so recognized.
Jessie travelled overseas on three occasions, firstly to Europe with her Aunt
Jeannie in 1897/8, secondly in 1922-4 to Africa and then to Europe on study leave,
and thirdly, in 1936 to the Middle East, around the Mediterranean and to Europe. The
latter trip was also on study leave, and mainly to see the sites of ancient civilizations
she had studied for so long. Some of this travel was undertaken under very difficult
circumstances, demonstrating Jessie’s pluck and determination. A very different
journey, but equally adventurous, was undertaken with Alice Anderson (of Alice
Anderson Motor Service fame)11
. In September 1926 they travelled to Central
Australia in a Baby Austin 7, the highlight of which was experiencing the annual and
extraordinarily brief display of wild flowers.12
The last decade of her career was taken up with a continuingly heavy array of
academic responsibilities and an intensive programme of activities related to women’s
organizations. Sadly, the last ten months of her life were affected by illness which
turned out to be caused by cancer. She died in Melbourne on the 17th
February, 1944,
aged sixty-three, closely supported by her women friends. Jessie had lived a full and
very impressive life.
A well-rounded picture of Jessie requires some personal details. Maternal
grandfather Thomas Watson was “…a relatively successful merchant…” in Flinders
Lane but perhaps the demands of such a large family, including seven daughters,
drained their resources, as hinted at by Ridley13
and by Jeannie in her diary when
discussing the girls’ dress requirements. 14
This background meant that she
surrounded by a reasonably comfortable but never rich, middle-class family, and one
which recognized the value of education. Although orphaned Jessie was surrounded
by a large network of maternal family, including her deceased mother’s sisters who
had been closest in age to her - Maggie, Jeannie and Agnes, as well as the six other
siblings (one had died young). The Webb family were also in touch.
11
Clarson, ADB 12
See Ridley, p. 97/8 and Clarson, 2008, p. 107. 13
Ridley, p. 9. 14
Watson,1870.
7
Illus.3. Jessie Stobo Webb, 1907, aged 27 years (From paternal grandmother Mary Stewart
Webb’s family records, courtesy of Annette Webb)
8
Her maternal grandmother, Jessie Stobo Watson, died in January 1908, having
lived long enough to see her grand-daughter become one of Victoria’s early women
graduates and a teacher, (although not yet a university staff member) – surely the first
female (and perhaps male) member of the family to have progressed in such a way. It
is wondered if she understood and appreciated just what Jessie had achieved and how
she had excelled in ways which have become a minor legend in our family. Amongst
those early generations only her uncle, Thomas Greenlees Watson15
(1859-1913) and
her cousin, Thomas Watson Haynes (1879-1963)16
achieved anywhere near similar
public re-known.
Her aunt Jeannie Watson, who died in 1916, was able to see her protégé firmly
established in what became a lifelong, well respected professional career, surely a
magnificent compliment to her nurturing of her late sister’s child. Jeannie might not
have had the opportunities she had dreamt of in her 1870 diary17
(especially marriage)
but her contribution to providing a home and loving support to her orphaned niece’s
development deserves to be recognized and acknowledged.
Physically Jessie was petite, as can be seen from the photo of her sitting with
the Horderns on the veranda in Durban (Illus. 11), and the Herald summed up Jessie
as being “… small, slight and very energetic…”.18
Ridley quotes Kathleen
Fitzpatrick describing her as being “… small and quite plain, rather like a bird…….
No classic beauty, her best feature was obviously her hair, which was thick and
slightly wavy and, “reddish”, which later faded to “… pale, between gold and silver,
extremely fine, the sort into which it was hard to fasten hairpins. It was always rather
wild looking and sometimes tumbled down her back”.19
Jessie’s letter from Toro in
Uganda contributes to this description of what indeed must have been her ‘crowning
glory’.
Jessie seems to have been generally very healthy and fit, as evidenced by her
Table Mountain experience and her being very well throughout the journey, until she
arrived in Cairo and came down with a bad cold. But she was a very poor sailor,
suffering from seasickness and dreading boat trips, as indicated in the record.
The personality which emerges from the African record is consistent with
observations reported in Ridley’s Memoir including “… her Jane Austen’ish
observingness and delight in the enduring absurdities of human kind”,20
that she was
“…. wise, witty, kind and liberal in every sense, wide open to new ideas… and
eminently rational…”.21
He also gives examples of her as being extremely modest -
15
Thomas Greenlees Watson (1889-1913) was a very respected Clerk of the Legislative Council and
Clerk of Parliament (1882-1912). Both Houses adjourned in respect for his funeral, the first time for an
officer of Parliament 16
.Thomas Watson Haynes (this editor’s grandfather), son of Maggie Watson/Haynes who was Jessie’s
eldest aunt. He was a successful Melbourne businessman, including in the mining sector, and became
President of the Melbourne Chamber of Commerce, among other appointments. He authored Our Daily
Bread 1933, partly about the phosphate industry 17
Watson,1870. 18
Herald, 25 Jan. 1937, quoted in Ridley, p120 19
Fitzpatrick, quoted in Ridley, p. 160 20
Phillips, quoted in Ridley, p. 158 21
Fitzpatrick, quoted in Ridley, p.160
9
“so small and of no reputation”, and that characteristic too comes across in her
writings. Ridley also quotes James Docherty, that one of her students who wrote of
her ‘enthusiasm, exuberance, ebullience, wide-ranging scholarship, vitality, humanity,
friendliness and warmth.’22
Certainly her African journey record clearly demonstrates
a keen sense of irony and humour.
Interestingly for her time, and from her early adult days, she did not profess to
a religion (which is also apparent from the Africa record). Kathleen Fitzpatrick
remembers declaring at her funeral that, “This is all wrong for Jessie”, meaning the
religious ceremony which was held.23
Also unusually for her time, she was cremated,
rather than buried, with her ashes scattered at Springvale and no memorial built. But
she is well commemorated in the library named after her, and amongst those familiar
with the history of Victoria’s famous cohort of early female graduates, the Lyceum
Club and the Women’s College.
Jessie was forty-one years old when she set off on the African journey, en-
route to Greece and Europe on what was her first sabbatical. The reason why her
African experiences did not receive earlier recognition would appear to be because,
unlike her travelling companion Georgina Sweet (known in the record as Georgie),
she did not return to Melbourne immediately, Jessie only arriving back in February
1924. Then her life was taken up with a heavy load of academic duties and also “…
an endless round of lectures…” including to the Lyceum Club, the Historical Society,
the Victorian Women Graduates, the National Council of Women and the League
Union. Press coverage in a range of state newspapers also shows that she was a
popular speaker in the other states.24
Her main topics were her academic work in
Greece and her participation in the 1923 League of Nations meeting, with the African
trip only occasionally mentioned.
It is notable that Jessie was not at all well off financially, her academic salary
being modest and her father’s inheritance obviously having been drained by
supporting her and Aunt Jeannie’s care and her education for two decades. Ridley
reports that she had in fact been granted two years leave on half-pay in 1922 and even
less in 192325
so she really had to watch her pennies during the trip. There are
indications in the record that she was (probably informally) recruited to be the more
affluent Georgie’s travelling companion, rather than the trip being an initiative of her
own. It seems that arrangements were made that Georgie covered some of the costs,
such as the safari from Nimule – and perhaps their staying at hotels – an arrangement
which Jessie would probably not have been able to afford. Jessie’s pride was likely to
have only allowed her to accept such an arrangement because Georgie could not have
accomplished the journey alone, and it seems that no one else was willing to
accompany her. Jessie was heading for Greece anyway, so going via Africa wasn’t a
major diversion – just a rather unusually complex one! But, as we know from her
other travels, she did have a strong streak of adventurousness herself. In addition her
paternal Webb grandfather was something of a globe-trotter himself and probably
communicated about his travels in north Africa and elsewhere, and her cousin Thomas
22
Quoted in Ridley, pp. 166/7 23
Quoted in Ridley, p.139 24
See Section 3.1 of news cuttings which demonstrate the nation-wide nature of her talks 25
Ridley, p. 63
10
Haynes was travelling around the Pacific visiting phosphate islands on the Nauru
Chief while she was in Africa.26
Her travelling companion, and the probable27
instigator of the journey, was
fellow Melbourne University academic and Lyceum Club member, Georgina Sweet.
Illus. 4. Georgina Sweet (Courtesy of the University of Melbourne Archives, UMA/I/1071).
Dr Georgina Sweet OBE (1875-1946) 28
was born in Melbourne, the eldest
daughter of English born George and Fanny (nee Dudman) Sweet. Mr Sweet ran the
Brunswick Brick, Tile and Pottery Company and was a successful businessman. He
was also an enthusiastic amateur geologist and naturalist and became President of the
Royal Society of Victoria (1905). He had a strong and very positive influence on her
career development, involving her in his interests from a very early age. This support
really paid off for Georgina became a woman of many ‘firsts’ – the first female in
Australia to be awarded a DSc (1904), to serve as acting professor (of Biology), the
first associate professor (of Zoology) and the first female on the University Council,
all at Melbourne University.
Her illustrious career commenced when she entered Melbourne University and
became one of the earliest female science graduates (1896), completing a Masters of
Science in 1898 and her Doctorate in 1904. She was fortunate to have studied under
the distinguished biologist Professor (Sir) Henry Baldwin Spencer who encouraged
women students.
26
Family records 27
This will be discussed in my forthcoming Commentary and Analysis 28
Fitzpatrick, ADB
11
Georgina commenced her career as a Biology school teacher because of the
prevailing lack of science opportunities and she conducted her applied research in the
evenings and during weekends. She was eventually appointed to a lectureship in
Biology in 1901 at Queen’s College and then in 1908 received a University
appointment which was made permanent the following year. Her subjects were
Biology, Zoology and Parasitology, as well as Agriculture, Zoology and Entomology,
some of which she taught in the Veterinary School. In 1911 she won the coveted
“Syme Prize” for her research on worm nodules in cattle. Her research specialities
became the zoology of Australian native animals and the parasitic infestations of
Australian stock and native fauna, which became of scientific and economic
importance to Australia. She became recognized as an expert in her field, both at
home and abroad and was engaged by the Government to investigate parasitic
problems in cattle in other countries. She also acted as head of department on a
number of occasions, including during the War years which were particularly
demanding because of the prolonged absences of both of her professors and because
courses were accelerated. She was finally appointed Associate Professor of Zoology
in 1920 but never received a Professorship. She was a member of the Advisory
Council for Scientific and Industrial Research, the Australasian Association for the
Advancement of Science and the Australian National Research Council.
From 1925 she gradually relinquished her professional responsibilities and in
1934 she completely retired due to the ill-health which had plagued her for many
years. Her scientific career totalled over thirty years of teaching and research
involvement in Zoology and related subjects. She was described as being “…
undoubtedly a significant figure in terms of the achievements of Australian women in
the earlier part of the twentieth century….”29
. Claire Hooker states that Georgina can
claim the title of being “… Australia’s first woman scientist.”30
In addition to her academic work she was a Member of the University College
Council, Queen’s College Council and the Women’s College, as well as Secretary of
the University Union and a member of the Council of Secondary Teachers of Victoria.
Additionally she served in an advisory capacity on various educational committees
and acted as an examiner. She was also a popular public speaker.
Her academic work was more than balanced by her involvement in many other
organizations, including the Royal Society of Victoria, the Field Naturalists Club and
the Women’s Graduates Association. She was also a founder, with Jessie, of the
Lyceum Club and the MU Women’s College. However, most of her energy in her
latter years was devoted to the YWCA (being national President from 1927-1934) and
the Pan-Pacific Women’s Association (President in 1930). She also played a key role
in the establishment of the Australian Joint Standing Committee of Women to link up
with international women’s organizations, out of which arose the Australian Liaison
Committee of Women’s Federal Organizations which was linked with the Pan Pacific
Women’s Association. In addition she was a director of the Bureau of Social and
International Affairs, a member of Council of the State League of Nations Union;
executive member of the Australian Institute of Pacific Relations, a member of the
Victorian International Refugee Emergency Council, the Board of Social Studies and
29
Arundel, Beveridge and Sandeman, 2009 30
The Science Show, 2004
12
the Victorian Council for Mental Hygiene. In recognition of this extensive
community-related work she was awarded an OBE in 1935.
As if all of these activities weren’t enough, Georgina also had a life-long
involvement in the work of the Methodist Church, in advocating for votes and
technical education for women and also for promoting family planning.
Travelling was her great joy and she often mixed business with pleasure on her
many trips, both in Australia and overseas, including Asia, Europe and the USA, and
of course, Africa. In later years she travelled widely in her capacity as Australian
President of the Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA), a Vice President of
the World YWCA and the Pan-Pacific Women’s Association.
On a more personal note, she experienced great family tragedy just after
World War One. Her mother died in 1919, followed shortly afterwards by her younger
sister Dr. Elizabeth Sweet who was one of the many victims of the flu epidemic of the
same year. Her father died in 1920 so within a period of sixteen months she had lost
all of her immediate family31
. These events, along with the effects of the heavy
workload experienced during the war years because of the absence of male
colleagues, on top of her inherent poor health, may well have prompted her to go
ahead with plans for the 1922 African journey which had been her childhood dream. 32
Georgina was described as having a deep sense of religion and a great deal of
common sense, excellent organizing ability and a firm grasp of business methods. She
was also described as being poised with a straightforward and generous nature and a
keen sense of humour. She was also remarkably stoic about her life-long physical
weaknesses (possibly due to having had Rheumatic Fever as a child33
), rarely
allowing them to inhibit her busy lifestyle. These characteristics are also demonstrated
in Jessie’s record of their African travels. Although she never regarded herself as a
feminist or a “new woman”, she was a strong supporter of women’s rights (including
sex education) and never felt herself disadvantaged as a woman34
- which may have
been largely due to the support given to her by her father – not to mention her
financial independence.
With a considerable inheritance from her father she became a philanthropist,
making many gifts, both during her life and through her Will. They were largely
directed towards Melbourne University and the Methodist Church. Smaller amounts
were provided to over a dozen institutions a well as scholarships, including ones
named for her parents and sister, and which are still current. Despite being in ill-
health all her life and leading an extraordinarily active social life, she lived for
seventy-one years of age, and out-lived the younger and much healthier Jessie by two
years.
31
Rapke, p. 7 (see transcript in Part 3.1.15) 32
Rapke, as above 33
Opinion of a relative who is a doctor 34
MacCallum, ADB
13
Illus. 5. Georgie relaxing on board SS Ulysses, on the way from Melbourne to Durban (JW)
14
Georgie, as she was known to her friends, was forty-six years old when she
and Jessie set off to Africa in order to fulfil what was reportedly her life-long dream.
The location or even existence of her records of the journey is not known by this
author. There is however a brief description in an Argus interview35
and a mention by
Rapke in her article36
. Jessie stated from Uganda, that Georgie too wrote home
regularly, with many detailed facts included, but it is not known to whom (as her
immediate family had all died). Ridley reports that Georgie gave a slide talk on
Foundation Day at Melbourne University entitled “Three Thousand miles by the Nile”
(not located) and that there was a brief mention in the Melbourne University
Magazine, August 1923. While in Zanzibar Jessie does mention that Georgie wrote a
“… general letter to the Catalysts” and reported in Uganda that she wrote very
detailed letters. It is likely to be productive to research Georgie’s records for further
information and a different viewpoint of the journey, but that was unfortunately
beyond the scope of this particular research.
35
Argus, 1923 (see Part 3.1.2) 36
Rapke, see 3.1.15
15
Illus. 6. Train and boat timetable and routes 37
37
Faith, opp. p. 89 (nd. and no source but post 1918 which was when the train reached Bukama, and
pre 1926 when Rejaf was replaced by Juba as the first upstream port for the Nile boats)
16
1.3 SYNOPSIS
Melbourne academics Jessie Webb and Georgina Sweet sailed from
Melbourne on March 18th
1922 on SS Ulysses 38
and, after stopping briefly in Durban,
arrived in Cape Town on April 16th. They departed from there on 26th
April and
arrived seven months later in Cairo, on the 16th
November 1922.
Their route appears to have been based largely on the existence of steam train
and connecting paddle boat services (see Illus. 6). It took them from South Africa
through Southern and Northern Rhodesia, the Belgian Congo, Tanganyika, Zanzibar,
Kenya, Uganda, the Sudan and into Egypt. They travelled mainly by train and boat
but also on occasion by car and van and in southern Sudan, spent eight days on safari
being carried in a hammock chair, as was the custom at that time (it is possible that
they also did a brief safari in Southern Rhodesia). Visits were made to well-known
institutions, scenic spots, universities to meet professional colleagues, relatives (in
South Africa and Tanganyika) and to people to whom they had letters of introduction
and others to whom they were passed onto. They stayed in private homes, on boats
and trains and occasionally in hotels. On the safari leg they stayed in very basic
government rest houses.
Jessie kept what appears to be a continuous and regular record of their travels
in the form of letters for the first half of the journey and a diary for the Nile leg. There
is also an additional letter written, partly in Alexandria and partly in Athens. Copies
or originals were regularly sent home to Melbourne to family and friends.
The letters and diary are informative, including descriptions of places, events
and people encountered along the way. Jessie demonstrates her inquiring mind by
taking numerous opportunities to discuss political and administrative matters with
colonial officials and business people and reports on them in her communications.
Her keen sense of humour and irony are well illustrated with amusing and sometimes
biting, descriptions of people (which is probably why she didn’t want the letters
distributed too widely).
What maybe a surprise to many is that the journey was not one in which they
hacked their way through jungles and fought off charging elephants and rampaging
‘natives’ with spears etc. Instead, travelling mostly by train and boat, they were
somewhat insulated in a ‘colonial cocoon’, as described in the accompanying paper39
.
However, it was a lengthy journey with often challenging climatic and physical
conditions encountered. One can suspect that Jessie underplayed in her writings just
how basic and unpleasant were some of the conditions they experienced, such as on
the Congo river steamers. The record indicates that both women demonstrated
impressive physical and mental resilience over the seven months and some seven
thousand miles travelled. It is likely that they were buoyed up by the ever-changing
kaleidoscope of sights and experiences, and the sense of achievement as they
completed each stage and gradually moved towards their Cairo goal.
38
Ridley, p. 64, and Jessie’s letter of 30 April also mentions the 18th
March 39
NLA, Rapke, see Part 3.2.15 in this volume
17
1.4 HISTORY OF THE MATERIALS
It would appear from the near pristine state of the diary that it had not seen the
light of day for over eighty years after it was written. This may have been because
Jessie went on to Europe for a year after the Africa journey and did not return to
Australia until early 1924. She was then caught up with both her academic
responsibilities and a round of reporting to women’s and other groups around
Australia on the 1923 League of Nations meeting she had attended. The diary
disappeared into family cupboards after Jessie’s premature death in 1944 and
apparently lay untouched until donated to Melbourne University History Department
(date unknown, probably in 1980s) by relative Barbara Williams (neé Haynes). It was
then passed to the UM Archives in 1997. Initially there was some confusion because
the diary was unsigned and it was catalogued as being “By Persons Unknown”.
Luckily, it was finally identified and placed in Jessie Webb’s archive collection. The
letters appear to have done the rounds of friends and family before they reached
Professor Crawford and then were left in his records, seemingly unrecognized and un-
catalogued until identified by Professor Ridley.
1.5 DESCRIPTION OF THE MATERIALS
The record of the Cape to Cairo journey consists of approximately 50,000 words and
currently includes the following:
Letters40
: The first half of the journey, from Cape Town to Uganda, is described in
about twenty handwritten letters (or parts there-of) which were found by Ridley in
Crawford’s archives. The letters commence in Cape Town on April 16th
1922 and
end at Jinja, Uganda in early October. They were addressed to family members and
friends. They are not a complete set and some are fragments which have, where
possible, been ‘patched’ together by making an educated guess as to their order. Some
are slightly torn, affecting comprehension.
Diary41
: The second half of the journey is described in a cloth bound ‘letter diary’. It
has hard, orange marbled covers, and is about two cms thick. There are 100
numbered, paired pages, one of which is 80gsm paper and the other soft, aerogramme-
like paper. A loose sheet of carbon paper (one sheet still in the diary) was used
between the pages and the hard copy (which was perforated near the edge) then torn
out and posted home to family and friends as a form of letters, with the soft copy in
the diary kept as a record for herself. There is only slight damage to the edge of a
couple of pages and a crease. She wrote in pen or pencil. Page 57 is missing but the
story flows on from page 56 to 58. The writing ends on page 61, with some related
information appearing inside the front and back covers. One hard page is torn out,
leaving only a 5cm strip. The diary is in surprisingly good condition given the delicate
paper, the humid conditions she was travelling in and the eighty-plus years which
have passed, indicating its neglect in the intervening period.
40
Crawford Collection, Box X, Melbourne University Archives 41
Single item, Box 22, 97/37, Melbourne University Archives
18
The Diary provides a commentary on her travels from Jinja in Uganda on 4th
Oct., on
through other parts of Uganda and into the Sudan and Egypt, via the Nile. The writing
stops abruptly in Egypt on 7th
November, in such a way that one would suspect that
there may be a third record written separately because there were thirty-eight pages
left in the diary. A possible explanation for this may be that she put all references to
Egyptian in a separate record because they were work related and/or that she handed
the diary over to Georgie while in Cairo to take back to Australia, as she ie Jessie, was
not returning for another year. There are no conclusions about the journey and nothing
on Cairo, which, according to Georgie’s newspaper interview42
, they reached on 16th
November.
Sixty-two pages were written on a daily basis, with the exception of the 24th October.
Page length varies from one paragraph to five pages, with the majority of entries
(sixteen) being around one to two and a half pages long. Nine entries were less than a
page in length and eight were between three and five pages long. There are also some
writings on the inside of the covers.
An additional letter43
: Another letter, dated 7th
and 9th
December 1922, was found in
Crawford’s archives. It was written partly in Alexandria, Egypt and partly in Athens
after Jessie crossed the Mediterranean. It describes something of what happened
during and after Cairo and the additional information that Georgie “went up the river”
in late November and that Jessie stayed in Cairo until 5th
December then went by train
to Alexandria where she caught the boat to Greece on 7th
/8th
December.
Photographs and Illustrations44
: There is as an ad hoc collection in the Webb records
of a dozen black and white photos from the trip, plus negatives. They would appear
to be ones left over from compiling a photo album which she presumably would have
put together, as was her usual practice (location unknown). The letters and diary
include some small, rough sketches of a Cape roofline, Table Mountain, a head dress,
a hut, a skirt, a tiny map and a hurricane lamp.
The original diary, above mentioned photos and copies of the (known) letters now
reside in the Jessie Webb collection in Melbourne University archives
News and Other Coverage of the Journey 45
: Both Georgie and Jessie were well
known Melbourne identities and consequently received some publicity in newspapers
and magazines over the years, as can be seen from the samples of press coverage in
Part 3.1. Jessie’s return particularly received much coverage because of her
involvement in the League of Nations meeting, but with only the occasional addition
of aspects of the African journey. Julia Rapke46
interviewed Georgina in the 1930s
and that record sheds some light on the journey. A transcript of the relevant parts of
the interview is included in Part Three.
Missing Material: Missing are all letters relating to travel in Southern and Northern
Rhodesia, and parts of letters from all countries along the way. This is presuming that
42
Argus, March 1923 (see Part 3.1.2) 43
With the other letters, Crawford Box X, MUA 44
As above. 45
Thanks to NLA Trove for ease of access 46
Rapke, see 3.1.15
19
Illus.7. Page from a letter, illustrating Jessie’s handwriting
20
she wrote on all visited, which seems very likely. Either some letters went missing on
the way to Australia (and Jessie herself noted in Uganda that she had failed to receive
any return mail from Melbourne from May to September) or else they (or parts there-
of) were misplaced/separated after being passed around her circle of family and
friends. It is not sure if she used a letter diary during the first half of the journey,
although she does vaguely mention one to Effie in her letter of 28th
June when on the
Congo boat.
Insertions: In order to make the record more comprehensible the following insertions
have been made:
- Maps: Jessie sketched only one small map. Others have been added, compiled
from information obtained from existing train and boat routes and other
traveller’s tales, and from Jessie’s descriptions of places visited.
- Rhodesian Section: This author has taken the liberty of inserting descriptions
from other travellers of the period to give some idea of what they would be
likely to have experienced while travelling in Southern and Northern
Rhodesia, using the known train routes and key sites as a basis, as well as
Jessie’s mention of visiting the Morgenster Mission, her comparison of
Elizabethville with Bulawayo and her photograph of a homestead at “(Great)
Zimbabwe”.
- Footnotes: They have been added to identify many as possible of the people
met along the way and also to clarify some terms used and events.
- Extra illustrations: The temptation to include more quotes and photos from
other travellers of the era about places visited, to expand the description or fill
gaps, has been largely, but not wholly resisted for at times they do help to
embellish this traveller’s tale. The insertions include photos and illustrations,
with their sources as referenced.
Description of Writing and Editing Notes: As can be seen from Illustration 7, Jessie’s
writing was generally fluid and legible but the use of pencil and occasional use of
aerogramme type paper, some letters being damaged and working partly from
photocopies meant some words were un-intelligible or partially so. While some can be
guessed from the context, others which are doubtful are marked [?], with the very
occasional, obviously missing words added in square brackets. Where groups of
words are missing that portion is marked [….]. Where a name or word has been
obviously misspelt eg Stillwell or Loderwychkx, it has been corrected.
Because many of the sentences are long they are difficult to immediately make
sense of. Therefore additional commas have been added where needed. Jessie often
used dashes rather than full stops and these have been changed to full stops, again to
aid reading. In the original, the sentences flow on without paragraphs, presumably to
save paper, so they have been inserted. On a couple of occasions a few paragraphs on
one country have been extracted from a later letter about another country and inserted
in her earlier description of that country, in order to maintain the flow.
21
Short summaries have been added to the beginning of each country section
and the name of a particular place being described has been bolded, to aid
comprehension.
Unfortunately it has not been possible to follow up some names or events and
this editor is aware that as soon as this document is placed between covers some
missing items may emerge. However, time is ticking by and it seems practicable to
now wrap the exercise up - despite knowing full well that this might be tempting fate.
22
23
Map 1. The entire route travelled and approximate timing
24
1.6 ROUTE TAKEN AND DURATION OF COUNTRY VISITS
Jessie did not give a summary of the route they travelled, but despite the gaps
in the material it has been possible with a high degree of certainty, to piece it together
based on the place names mentioned and the known train and boat routes of the
period, as can be seen in Illustration 8. As can be seen from Table 2 opposite they
stayed for between approximately two to seven weeks in each country, as evidenced
mainly from the record. Map 1 encapsulates that information.
By going east through Tanganyika, Zanzibar and Kenya they had diverted
somewhat from the classic Cape to Cairo route but ended up in southern Sudan at the
same point as those taking the more direct route, before proceeding down the Nile to
Cairo, as was the common practice.
The journey started off in Melbourne which they departed from on 18 March,
1922 aboard the SS Ulysses, a steamer of 15,000 tons, bound for South Africa.47
After
crossing the Indian Ocean they first called in at Durban before sailing south to Cape
Town, arriving on 16th
April. There they stayed for ten days, including going out to
Stellenbosch and down to Cape Point, finally departing on April 26th
. They then
travelled north-east to the Eastern Cape area by train, including stopping at
Wellington, George, Oudtshoorn and then Grahamstown, the home of Rhodes
College. Turning inland they would have reached the central station of Bloemfontein
on the main line and proceeded north-east to Johannesburg and nearby
Modderfontein, the latter apparently to visit a Webb relative. Ridley notes that an
uncle of Jessie’s, Albert Webb, was a gold engineer in South Africa so it may have
been to visit his family. Continuing north they stopped off at Pretoria and it was near
here that Georgie visited Onderstepoort, the “great ICT lab.”48
Jessie also later
mentioned visiting Aberfeldy which is south of Johannesburg.
After Pretoria they turned back to Johannesburg, then travelled north-west to
Mafeking and across the border into the Bechuanaland Protectorate. Heading north
through the desert they would have then passed through Palapye and Sarule and over
the border to Bulawayo in Southern Rhodesia. From here they made at least one
some side-trip. Returning to Bulawayo they would then have gone north by train to
Victoria Falls and across the famous bridge into Northern Rhodesia. Continuing
north-wards the train would have stopped briefly at Livingstone, Lusaka, Broken Hill
and then the ‘Copperbelt’ towns of Bwana Mkubwa and Ndola.
Departing Northern Rhodesia, the railway line crossed the border into the
Belgian Congo at Sakania, then moved north-west to Elizabethville where they spent
some time, before leaving for Bukama in the north – which was the end of the Cape to
Congo rail line. Here Jessie’s letter records that they boarded a boat on the Lualaba
(the upper reaches of the Congo river) and sailed north on the Kongola then the Louis
Cousin, to Kabola. From there they turned east and travelled by train to Albertville
(now Kalemie) on the edge of Lake Tanganyika.
47
Ridley, p. 64 48
ICT Laboratory was founded in 1908 and is now known as the Agricultural Research Council-
Onderstepoort Veterinary Institute. The world re-known institute still promotes animal health and
welfare by researching southern African veterinary diseases
25
Table 2: Dates, Route, Mode of Transport, Duration and Evidence of Journey
Stages
PLACE AND MODE OF
TRANSPORT
DATES DURATION
(approx.)
EVIDENCE
Melbourne, via Adelaide and
Durban. By ship.
18 March-16 April 1 mth. Letter and Argus
interview
South Africa
Cape Town (and Stellenbosch and
Cape Point) – then east coast,
including Wellington, George,
Oudtshoorn, Grahamstown, then
Bloomfontein, Kimberly,
Johannesburg, Modderfontein,
Pretoria, Aberfeldy, Pretoria and
Mafeking. By train.
Cape Town -16-
26th April, then
travelled NE and
north.
Departed South
Africa late May?
Approx.
6 weeks
Start date is definite,
(letters and Argus).
End date is uncertain.
Bechuanaland, from Mafeking in
SA to Plumtree in SR.
By train.
Early June
Journey takes
approx. x 1 day
(490 miles) 49
No letters known so by
default, train routes, +
the following evidence:
-This was the only train
route north.
- Photo of Great Zim.
homestead,
- Two mentions - Oct.
26th and 22nd June , as
well as Rapke’s
interview
Sth and Nth Rhod.
Bulawayo, (and possibly Matopos
Hills, Masvingo and Great
Zimbabwe), Victoria Falls, Broken
Hill and Bwana Mkubwa. By train
and cart and possibly safari.
SR: Early June -
20 June?
NR: Possibly just
training right
through – 3 days
2 weeks?
Congo
Sakania, Elizabethville, Bukuma,
Kabalo, Albertville.
By train, boat, train and boat.
20 June-10 July 2 ½ weeks? Letters. Start approx.,
end definite, letter
Tanganyika/Zanzibar
Kigoma, Ujiji, Tabora, Dar,
Zanzibar, Tanga.
By train, boat and boat.
11 July – approx.
end of July
3 weeks? Letters. Start definite,
End approx.
Kenya
Mombasa, Nairobi, Nakaru,
Kisimu. By train and car.
Early Aug -20th
Aug
2 1/2 weeks? Letters. Start approx.
End definite.
Uganda
Entebbe, Kampala, Jinga, Masindi,
Butiaba. By boat, car, boat, train,
van and boat.
21Aug-11 Oct. 7 weeks
Including 1 week
in Jinja (25 Sept-4
Nov)
Letters, definite.
Sudan
Nimule, Rejaf, Khartoum,
Atbarah,Wadi Halfa.
By safari, boat, train and boat.
11 Oct.- 6 Nov 3 ½ weeks Diary, definite.
Egypt
Luxor, Cairo and JW departing
Alexandria on 7th Dec. for Greece,
with GS going “up river” about 24th
Nov.
Arrived in Cairo by boat, then by
train to Alexandria.
6 Nov-7 Dec. 1 mth Diary and letter.
GS’s return date in
Argus interview article.
Start and end definite.
49
Faith, opp. p 89
26
After crossing the lake to Kigoma into Tanganyika Territory, they briefly
visited the famous Ujiji on the shores of the lake, and then caught the train east to
Tabora and onto Dar es Salaam on the coast. From there they took a boat for the five
hour trip to Zanzibar. Continuing on again by boat Jessie mentions calling in at
Tanga, which is a coastal city on the boat route from Zanzibar to Mombasa, and
where they met Robert Stobo. He was presumably one of her maternal relatives for
Stobo was a name shared by her grandmother and her mother, and being her own
second name. From Mombasa they caught the train inland to Nairobi, then visited
contacts in various rural places before going on to Kisimu on the edge of Lake
Victoria, from where they caught the SS Clement Hill and sailed across the lake to
Uganda.
After landing at Fort Bell, the port for Entebbe, they then spent time in that
capital before moving onto nearby Kampala. They also visited Toro in western
Uganda, near the Ruwenzori mountains, travelling to and fro by car. Their next leg
was via Jinja at the north end of Lake Victoria (and the source of the Nile) where they
spent a week before catching the train to Namasagali on a line running parallel to the
‘Victoria’ Nile. Here they boarded the SS Speke to travel down the river through Lake
Kyoga to Masindi Port. From there they went west up the hills by truck to Masindi,
then down the escarpment to Butiaba on Lake Albert. The reason for the diversion
from the ‘Victoria’ Nile was the presence of rapids and the very dramatic Murchison
Falls which prevents boats from Lake Victoria being able to travel directly down river
to Lake Albert.
Boarding another boat, the SS Samuel Baker, they went north and out of Lake
Albert into the ‘Albert’ Nile, through very swampy land to Nimule on the southern
border of the Sudan. It was from here that the safari leg of their journey commenced,
being carried in chairs by pairs of men, with Jessie doing some walking as well.
Taking a safari was the usual way to by-pass the many rapids on this part of the Nile
up until 1925, after which time a road was established and a motor van was used.50
Travelling parallel to the Nile they arrived at Rejaf eight days later, having covered
94.2 miles (according to the Public Works Department route notes copied in the back
of Jessie’s diary).
From Rejaf, on the western bank of the Nile, they boarded the Omdurman
which took them south to Khartoum. They then boarded a train to Abu Hamad (again
because of cataracts on the river) and from there crossed the 250 miles of the Nubian
dessert to Wadi Halfa on the Egyptian border, travelling on the line which Kitchener
had built to bypass the cataracts and the river’s large loop, and get military supplies to
his troops. They then caught the Britain down-river to Cairo – perhaps stopping en
route at Luxor and the Valley of the Kings (but for some reason not at Abu Simbel),
because they did not arrive until 16th
December. After staying in Cairo for nearly a
month Jessie caught a train to Alexandria before crossing the Mediterranean to Greece
on 8th
December to start, at long last, her sabbatical.
50
Information obtained from the editor’s history of Cape to Cairo journey’s research .
27
Ridley pointed out in the Memoir51
that it was possible to travel all the way
from Cape to Cairo “in the red” ie through British territories, and it was, unless one
went through the Belgian Congo as Jessie and Georgie did. However, Egypt was
really another exception as it had gained a limited form of independence that same
year (ie 1922) and even the Sudan was held under an Anglo-Egyptian agreement at
that time. Note:52
1.7 LETTER ADDRESSEES
It is clear that the letters were sent to family or to friends. Only five letters had
addressees:
- 16 April - Jennie, Jean Wilkinson, Constance, Ethel Bage, Elizabeth, Enid, Isa,
Ella, Emilie Sonnenberg;
- 28 June - to Effie and Flos;
- 27 Aug. - to Caz[?], Flo, Jenny, Jean Wilkinson, Ethel Bage and Effie;
- 2nd
Sept. - to Beth, Minnie and Effie; and,
- 26 Sept. - to Tom.
There is no such information for the Letter Diary which was used for the second phase
of the journey.
Based on Ridley’s knowledge of her peers and my family information, it appears that
the recipients were:
MU/Lyceum and Catalyst Club friends/colleagues:
“Flos”– Grata Flos Greig; Flo - Florence Wrigley or Flo Stillwell?; “Constance”/
“Connie” – Ellis; “Elizabeth” Lothian; “Enid” - Derham; “Ida” Wilson (Latham);
“Ada” - Griffiths; “Ella” - Eleanor Tobin/Latham; and, “Sheila” – Gilfillan.
“Jenny” and ?“Caz” - unknown.
“Ethel Bage”, “Jean Wilkinson” and “Emilie Sonnenberg” are clear.
“Effie” and “Flo” may have been the Stillwell sisters (of Frank).
Family:
“Beth, Minnie and Effie” – probably her cousins Elizabeth Fulton (Maconachie) and
Wilhelmina Fulton, and possibly her aunt Josephine Thomson Watson (Scott) – unless
“Effie” was Stillwell but she was not family and it would seem likely that Jessie
would have grouped her friends and family separately.
“Tom”/ “Thomas” – possibly her cousin Thomas Fulton.
51
Ridley, p. 67 52
Jessie reported in her letter of 7th
Dec. that “Georgie went up the river”, without saying why but
possibly it was to reach Atbara junction in the Sudan and then to go east by train to Port Sudan which
was a major port on the Red Sea, and a fuelling port of call for the PO liners on the Australian route,
used alternatively with Bombay52
.The area east of Atbara was a famous cotton growing area so it is
possible that Georgie had organized to meet there with agricultural scientists. From Port Sudan she
could have caught a ship but as she didn’t arrive back in Australia until the 28th February 1923 on the
RMS Narkunda, according to the Argus52
, it is possible that she stopped off in India and/or Ceylon
while en route. But this is just speculation.
28
1.8 COMMENTARY (a short version of what appears in my forthcoming paper but provided
here because it offers some explanations about what the journey was about)
A review of the travel literature shows that it was unusual, but not unique, to
undertake such a journey in the early 1900s. Certainly by the thirties this route was
very popular with Europeans and Americans (and some Australians), especially once
cars and small planes were able to complete the journey.53
However, on current
information (ie of those who have written about their journey) it appears that Jessie
and Georgie were amongst the earliest of such European travellers (and females)
completing the whole route purely for the sake of travel. The existence of the rail and
connecting river service (see Illus. 7) made such a journey perfectly feasible (although
depending on where and what date, because the rail only crept north very slowly but
surely, only reaching Bukama in the Congo in 1918).
Other European women also travelled widely in the region from as early as the
1800s but few completed the whole south to north (or vice versa) journey – and
published.54
They included wives and daughters of missionaries , colonial officials
and traders, and also nurses and single missionaries. They also had even more
remarkable tales to tell, like Ruth Fisher55
(whose mission Jessie and Georgie visited)
because they were there longer and often living and travelling in much more difficult
circumstances than the Melbournians’ experienced.
At first glance it seems unlikely that two female academics would consider
undertaking such a journey but there is some evidence which provides a probable
rationale, which will be discussed in more detail in my forthcoming paper. An extract
is relevant here:
“One can’t but help wonder where the idea of travelling through Africa came from as
it would appear to be a very unusual idea for two Australian, middle-aged, women to
come up with. While it is not explained explicitly in the record there is some evidence
to support the idea that it was probably Georgie’s idea and that Jessie, who was
planning to go Greece in 1923 for a sabbatical, was enlisted as a travelling
companion”
Evidence for this idea will follow but firstly it is useful to make a couple of
other points. While both women were active in the Lyceum Club and other women’s
organizations and were very much part of the strong group of early women graduates,
it appears that they were not especially close friends before the journey. This is
evidenced by the reference in the Cape Town letter, to “How are they getting on…?”
This is not all that surprising as one was wealthy, on the social circuit, a scientist and
a strong, teetotal Methodist, the other of far more modest means, a historian, a non-
believer and at least an occasional wine drinker and smoker. Consequently, apart from
their involvement in the Lyceum Club activities, they often moved in quite different
social circles. It seems that Georgie may have asked around their Melbourne friends
53
O’Callaghan, Commentary and Analysis, forthcoming 54
O’Callaghan, Cape to Cairo Tables (unpublished), 2010 55
Fisher, 1905
29
for someone to accompany her on her “dream journey” (see Rapke56
). Jessie herself
said, half-jokingly, while in Pretoria: “I doubt if she would choose me again as a
travelling companion”. Jessie was planning to take study leave for the first time in
eleven years and seems to have been persuaded to join her, thereby meeting both
Georgie’s need for a companion and her own need to get to Greece. Presumably she
was partially attracted by the possibility of seeing some relatives and especially the
various antiquities while en route. As it turned out, they arrived in Egypt within weeks
of Tutankhamun’s tomb being unearthed (November 1922), which was a highly
publicised event and which must have been particularly thrilling for Jessie. An
additional reason may have been that such a diversion meant less travel by boat – a
probable attraction for Jessie given her tendency to seasickness (although in fact the
trip involved nine, albeit short, boats trips).
Evidence that the trip was Georgie’s idea appears in Jessie’s comments about
how Georgie was regarded on board the ship from Melbourne – “The fame of her
(emphasis added) trip had preceded her and people were remarkably interested.” …”.
In Uganda she remarked that Georgie “... is looking forward – generously but
maddingly – to “losing myself in your pleasures Jess, when we get to Egypt.” This
statement seems to be about Georgie being embarrassed about how thrilled Jessie was
going to be when they reached the land of ancient Egyptian antiquities, as if the
earlier travel had been more for her own delight, visiting veterinary institutions and
seeing Victoria Falls and so on. It also apparent that Georgie paid for some elements
of the journey which Jessie, with her limited means, would not have been able to
afford eg for the askari, the personal staff and the safari.”
But the big question is why did Georgie want to undertake such an unusual
journey? There is evidence of personal reasons, a hint of which are evident in Rapke’s
interview 57
but also from a more public context - which is described in my
forthcoming paper.
A further background point is that the Cape to Cairo route was well
established by 1922 (with some variations on it), largely because of the extensive
mining activities in the Congo and the Rhodesia’s. It involved travel by train, boat,
and, up until the mid-1920s, undertaking a short safari in southern Sudan. Although it
was never possible to complete the entire journey by train this was largely the route of
Rhodes’ vision, and it was regularly used by businessmen and colonialists to get
through to Cairo and then ‘home’ to Europe. And Jessie and Georgie were therefore,
able to benefit from this business oriented infrastructure.
56
Rapke, nd. See 3.1.15 57
As above
30
31
Map 2: South Africa route.
32
PART 2. TRANSCRIPTS
2.1. TRANSCRIPT OF LETTERS
SOUTH AFRICA
These letters, or fragments thereof, provide a report on the first phase of the journey,
describing their activities in South Africa. The following letter provides an overview
of their movements there so it is placed first to ease clarification.
Introduction
30th
April 1922
For those of you who desire real information as to what we are doing, and not my
scattered comments in the jumble that I have already written, and which follows this,
let me state categorically, that the trip so far, is in 3 parts:
(1) The voyage, including interludes at Adelaide and Durban. It lasted 18th
March-16th
April, was very rough at times and for me, had only one redeeming
feature, the nice people with whom we became friendly. These were Mrs
Hordern, Mr and Mrs Parker, Mr and Mrs Nelson, Mr Mendoza, Dr Wardy the
Chief Engineer, Mr and Mrs Falkiner, Mr Evans and Mrs Giovanetti. A Dr
Bramwell and Mrs Martin were occasional visitors also, and both interesting.
(2) Our stay in Cape Town 16th
-26th
April. This included one long trip outside to
Cape Point (the left of the Cape of Good Hope) and another to Stellenbosch.
We fell in love with the picturesquesness of Capetown where the ubiquitous
family of van der Stel seems to have set the fashion of planting oaks as well as
at Stellenbosch. Oaks alone, firs alone, or oaks and firs mixed, make the roads
just outside the city delightfully restful to the eye, but local people do not
appreciate our enthusiasm. They say their own native trees should have been
preserved instead. The firs especially, are deeply unpopular as they destroy
flower and insect life and the flowers of the Cape in September and October
are the joy of all the inhabitants.
Table Mt is glorious with them and all around, save where the firs are. The
trees and the easily accessible mountain, the pretty voices and comparatively
pretty accent of the folk one meets and the general politeness, are what I most
envy about Capetown. On the other hand, girls are not so free to go about alone at
night as ours and neither are they as good looking or as well dressed. Finally the
water, tho’ pure we are told, is, we know to look at, like weak coffee.
(3) Our final beginning, so to speak, of the great journey. We left Capetown last
Wednesday and stayed overnight at Wellington at the Huguenot College, to
members of which we had an introduction. There are four Universities in the
Union: Capetown, Stellenbosch, Johannesburg (ordinary self-contained
33
universities like Melbourne) and the University of South Africa, a federation
of scattered colleges: the Huguenot College (women generally and a few local
men), Rhodes College at Grahamstown and another part at Pretoria. The
Huguenot College was founded years ago by religious Americans, and still has
an American lady as Principal – otherwise a cosmopolitan group of women,
Dutch, Australian, English and American teach there.
A Miss Brown, who is a cousin of Mr I. Hunt, gave us breakfast in bed and we
foregathered happily the evening before with a selected group, including Miss Newell
from Smith College, who knows Prof Abel. But the place is not a university and that’s
that. I know a lovely story about Dear Susan there, but you can ask Marnie Masson
for it. From Wellington, we rushed up to see the Hex river, and then, turning on our
tracks, spent a night in the train to reach George, whence we made a circular tour by
car just to see beauty spots. Pretoria and Johannesburg are our objectives, after that
we are out of the Union into Rhodesia and a fresh phase will have begun.
Gelah,58
…
To Jennie, Jean Wilkinson, Constance, Ethel Bage, [Flo?], Elizabeth, Enid, Ida, Ella,
Emilie Sonnenberg [all names scored through except for Ella and Emilie]
International Hotel
Capetown
Sunday 16th
April 1922
Dear Folk,
As nothing of any real interest has occurred, this letter is written merely to
give myself the pleasure of addressing you all, and of making you attend to me for a
moment or so without regard to the information I haven’t to give.
As I write, a darkie beau has just marched past my window, in swagger
pinchback59
coat, soft hat, shining tan leggings and carrying a whip. A little out of the
city you meet swarms – or perhaps that is too strong a word here – at least numbers of
whining, black beggar children reminding one of Colombo: in the streets the heavy
loads are carried by blacks: In the hotel there are white waitresses and black
waitresses. Altogether it is most confusing and after one and a half days in Capetown
I cannot hope to tell you what are the relations of black and white here! In semi-
tropical Durban, distinctions were clearer, and as even in a couple of days we saw
something of the ‘mean white’, of the Zulus and of the pervasive Indian element, we
were conscious directly of a black problem and of some of the complicated forms it
can assume. However, not being in a fit state to discuss problems, let me tell you
unintelligently, what we have unintelligently being doing.
58
A farewell? 59
Having a close-fitting or pleated back, belted in jacket
34
Georgie, from time to time, has had bad, but apparently short, attacks of
neuritis60
. As a rule, she can be made to forget it by any little excitement, and as she
was very popular on board, someone or other was always coming along for a gossip
and often the talk was of Africa. The fame of her trip had preceded her and people
were remarkably interested. Yesterday, when we were coming away from seeing the
boat off, a man who had paraded the deck but never spoken, presented her with his
card and requested the comfort of a postcard to say that we had got through safely.
Others, notably a Mr Evans and a Mr Nelson, both District Commissioners,
one in German East and one in Uganda, were less shy and more useful, warning about
all sorts of adventures and throwing no cold water on our schemes. Mr Nelson we
shall probably meet again as we visit Kampala, his headquarters. If so, he will arrange
for us a “safari, so entrancing that we dare not think of it for fear it falls through. And
as he is away on ‘safari’ himself (with his family of wife and two children) every third
month, of course we may be unlucky enough to miss him. Nethertheless, we know
how to set about travel in those parts now, and we were lucky indeed, to sail on the
same boat as he did. As a matter of fact, on nearer acquaintance, everything seems
easy – but not cheap – to arrange, with the one exception of the Belgian Congo. That
trip promises to be extraordinary comfortless. But over and above this there are hints,
first from Mr Brebner, and second, from a letter to Georgie from Dr Stillwell61
, of a
disagreement between Belgians and British. I don’t know whether it is over the
mandated territory or not, but Mr Brebner is emphatic in his dislike of their officials
and Dr Stillwell states baldly, there is friction. We shall, no doubt, solve the mystery
later. Emilie with her international spirit, may be glad to think of us as two guileless
rays of sunshine, uniting the outposts of the two nations with our innocent prattle. Ida
may thrill to think of us arrested as the spies of perfidious Albion62
– tho’ of course
we’ll be cleared in the end.
Illus. 8. “Women washing Umgeni River, Durban” (JW)
60
Neuritis, an old generic term for inflammation of nerves
52 Probably Frank Stillwell (1888-1963) who studied Geological Sciences at MU from 1911,
qualifying with a DSc in 1916. His two sisters, Effie and Florence were part of Jessie’s academic
cohort, having graduated in 1901 and 1903 respectively (and it is thought, were recipients of some of
Jessie’s letters). Stillwell visited mining fields in South Africa and other places in 1922/23 (ADB).
Another probably connection is that Georgie’s father was a keen amateur geologist with an extensive
fossil collection and was President of the Royal Society of Victoria (1905) 62
Perfidious Albion, a hostile epithet for England, indicating not keeping one’s faith
35
24th
April
Alas! Alas! Why did I not finish this letter while there was still nothing to tell?
I am sure I could have made it interesting, while we have done so much that interests
us that either I must merely narrate facts – send you a pemmican63
letter, or exercise
my powers of selection which, after a day like today, are practically non-existent.
Some thirty miles from Capetown is a little valley called Stellenbosch. Its
inhabitants are mainly Dutch – both by extraction and sentiment, or rather, I should
say, they are anxious to preserve the un-British character of the place. They have
always been, I believe, touchy towards Holland, as well as England. There is a
University there, as well as the one in Capetown, lectures are generally given in
Africans (sic) (Cape Dutch). Mrs Lodewyckz tells me it thinks itself the Athens of
South Africa. Nearby is the Agricultural College of Elsenberg, and both there and at
the Scientific Departments of the Stellenbosch University, there are several British
and American professors.
Well, Georgie wanted to see certain scientific folk there – a Dr Petty of
Cornel[?] at the Agricultural College of Elsenberg nearby, Professor Goddard (an
Australian Zoologist) and Dr Brain, interested in Entomology like herself. Dr
Lodewyckx64
had given us a letter of introduction, also to Professor Blommaert, their
history man,65
while from Sir Henry Jones66
we had one to Lord de Villiers - Lord
Percy de Villiers,67
and in real life too. So off we went to prosecute our enquiries.
Breakfast at 7am. Arrival at Agricultural College at 10am. Departure from
Agricultural College at 10.45am. Arrived at Stellenbosch at 11.30am and there found
things rather complicated. Professor Goddard and Professor Blommaert had at once
replied to our letters and each had bidden us both to lunch. We had replied saying;
arrange it as you will. Lord de Villiers had apparently taken no notice till late on the
night before he had sent us a telephone message, to which we could not reply between
10 pm and 7am. But at the station, Lady de Villiers awaited us with her car, and also a
formidable frown on her aristocratic young countenance when she learnt that we had
made other arrangements by proxy. So she said “Go to Professor Goddard. I shall do
some shopping and then call for you to take you to lunch. She stiffened my un-
aristocratic back and I said I feared lunch was arranged, but I would come shopping
with her while Georgie went at once with Prof G’s black boy who had also met us. So
63
Pemmican is a nutritious emergency foodstuff used by explorers and armies 64
Augustin Lodewyckx (JW spelt it with a ‘z’) (1876-1964), Assoc. Prof. German at MU in 1922,
previously worked at Victoria College, Stellenbosch and in the Belgian Congo (ADB) 65
Willem Blommaert (1886-1934), Flemish born, took up the professorship of History at Stellenbosch
in 1911. He was “a scientific historian, researchers and inspiring teacher… a man of rare intellectual
gifts and unusual quality of character… modest.” His father was Karel Lodewyck Blommaert,
obviously making him a relative of Dr Lodewyckx, see fn 55. (Dictionary of South African Biography) 66
Sir Henry Jones (1862-1926), a very successful Hobart businessman who had extensive fruit/jam
export related connections with South Africa. According to Warren Glover, Guest Services and History
Liaison officer, Sir Henry Jones Art Hotel Hobart, 2009, Sir Henry had family in Melbourne so often
visited there, he was a strong Methodist and had professional interests in agricultural-related parasites
and quarantine issues. These facts make for three possible connections with Georgie 67
Percy de Villiers (1871-1934) 2nd
Baron of Wynberg in the Cape of Good Hope Province and the
Union of South Africa. His father was Chief Justice of the Union 1910-1914.
36
we went round the village, Lady de Villiers driving, getting out to get paper, groceries
etc just as one has to do in our country towns like Healesville.
It is a beautiful old Dutch place with its typical white buildings thatched with close
cropped, dark thatch and with the usual curved gables.68
Water runs down the sides of
the streets and oaks planted, on the example of old van der Stel (whose wife was
Bosch), are every-where.
Illus. 9. Sketch of Cape Dutch roofline (JW)
When we reached Prof. Goddard’s lab I found that Georgie, who is easily
bullied by all save her wedded wife69
, had implored him to change his arrangements
to let us go to the de Villiers. So her ladyship bore us off triumphantly, but having got
us to her very charming home, she neglected us for a lioness who arrived later. This
was an extremely attractive looking American lady, Mrs Deborah Knox Livingston70
,
who has a great reputation for eloquence. She is conducting a prohibition campaign.
Lady de Villiers is a supporter and had invited a cohort of suffragists (sic) cum
prohibitioners to spend the day. So imagine, your injured cobbers, who might have
been guests of honour themselves at the Blommaerts or Goddards, being mere ballast
while Mrs Livingstone and suite were the passengers de luxe. However, one of the
guests greatly enjoyed a chocolate with liqueur in it, and Lord de Villiers paid me the
subtle attention of giving me an old title deed to look at. Joking apart, it was
interesting enough. The farm, as they call it, is really an orchard in our usage. By the
way, under the influence of his wife, he is getting rid of a large number of vines,
keeping the others for fruit71
and to make raisins.72
But we had to spend the rest of the day in placating various people whose little
plans for us had had to be re-arranged to fit in with this luncheon. The rest of the trip
was mainly of technical interest. I learnt how history courses are conducted at that
University and met various professors and one woman lecturer, a Miss Le Roux, with
whom I should fain have had more conversation.
68
The house is shown in “Colonial Houses of South Africa”, A. Proust and G. Viney, Struik Pub., 2000 69
A joking remark perhaps related to Jessie playing a protective role given the precarious state of
Georgie’s health at the start of the journey 70
Mrs Knox Livingston was a well-known American orator and suffragette and temperance
campaigner who spent six months in South Africa that year furthering those causes. It is thought that
she was born in Scotland in Sept 10, 1876. She died, surely prematurely, in Cape Cod in 1923.
http://news.google.com/newspapers 71
This would appear to explain the connection with Sir Henry Jones who was also a major fruit
exporter 72
This probably relates to the prevailing practice of paying farm staff partly in wine which contributed
significantly to the prevalence of alcoholic problems in the region
37
The names Le Roux and de Villiers, by the way, point to the Huguenot
immigration into South Africa. De Villiers, all un-connected with each other, are
commoner in some parts than Smiths. We arrived home at 6.45pm after a fairly full
day, two lots of teas and much conversation.
Professor Blommaert was rather obviously hostile to Britain. He is a Belgian
and this brings me back near to where I started. After I began this letter, we found we
had to go to the Belgian Consul to get our passports endorsed. He lives in a most
attractive house, sideways on the street so that you step up onto one end of his stoep
(veranda, in his case, roofless) and walk the whole long length, in front of French
widows, to the front door. The whole is shaded by giant oaks and the relief from the
most monotonous regularity of our villa arrangements was very great. The Consul, a
jolly little fat man, saw we could easily do our trip to the Congo, but must have
money and a certificate that we had no infectious diseases. Vain were our smallpox
certificates, vain our injections for typhoid, paratyphoid A, and paratyphoid B.
Tuberculosis and Scrofula73
etc, are the objects of their silly investigations. So off we
set in search of a woman doctor. We could hear of none. G. was not inconsolable, but
I persevered and finally we discovered Dr Jane Waterston74
, a thin, ascetic old lady,
with short silver hair curling round her ears, and, but for that one bend, unbending.
Her head shook all the time with age, but she seemed all there about her work. At all
events she knew that we had not Scrofula or tuberculosis and shared my indignation
that the dirty old Congo, with every skin disease imaginable, should dare to ask us if
we had any. She had qualified in Belgium and many other places, and had the queerly
fresh atmosphere about her, that pioneer women so often have – a fact I believe
mentioned by Gissing in his “God Women”75
. But what amused me was that she had
sentimental medical pictures about the room – doctor by children’s bedsides, and
such. It seems she began as a missionary. There are other women doctors, but few are
in general practice; mostly they are doing inspection or working with the missionaries.
On the other hand, the beautiful Michaelis Gallery76
has a women sculptor,
Mrs Thomas, as director. A woman has an important position as assistant in charge of
the famous Cape Archives, and there is, I think, more general camaraderie, among
men and women students than with us. A bill to admit women to the legal profession
has just passed the second reading. Of course there are several women lecturers, and
one of these, Miss Stevens, who has a position like that of Miss McClennan at our
University, took me up the Lion’s Head last Sunday, while Georgie was at her
relatives.
73
A bacterial TB infection of the neck 74
Dr Waterston (1843 -1932) had come out to South Africa from Scotland initially as a mission teacher
at Lovedale School and then returned to England and Belgium to train as a doctor. She was regarded to
be one of SA’s most remarkable women, was given an impressive funeral and has a street named after
her in Pretoria. She was seventy-nine when Jessie met her. It is curious that Jessie didn’t seem to pick
her Scottish background. 75
“God Women”, by George Gissing, 1857-1903 He was the earliest English writer to formulate the
intellectual’s case against mass culture – and wrote on the position of women 76
It has not been possible to establish a specific relationship between this Michaelis to Alice Michaelis
who was one of Jessie’s closest Melbourne friends, apart from a common German heritage. The
Michaelis collection still exists, housed in the former City Hall (the Old Town House) built in 1755 in
Cape Rococo style. Donated by Sir Max Michaelis in 1914, it consists of a world-renowned selection
of Nederlandish art from the seventeenth-century Golden Age
38
Illus. 10. Sketch of Table Mountain (JW)
Capetown has, as a background, Table Mountain and is partly embraced by its
two flanking peaks, the Devil’s Peak and the Lion’s Head. The youth of the city has
therefore every opportunity to be walkers for there are easy routes up, harder ones,
difficult ones and dangerous ones. In addition there are pleasant walks around about
the slopes. One does not go up alone, however, if a stranger, because of the fog. This
letter is being written in all sorts of places at all times. Today is Saturday and we are
on the train. Last Sunday then, Miss Stevens, a Miss de Villiers doing her last year at
the university, Olive Schreiner’s77
husband and myself, also Olive Schreiner’s
husband’s dog, climbed the Lion’s head, an exploit which your little friend, after a
month of lying on a deck chair, found somewhat strenuous at times, especially when
she had to clamber up rocks with the aid of chains. As she was arranged in breeches
and a jumper, she survived, and cracked hardy to the athletic young things who had
arranged the trip. Next day she had a pain above each knee but said nothing till Miss
Stevens commented on her own suffering in that respect. The dog hated the trip, lay
on its back in awkward crevices and waved its legs, but its master was resolute and
brought it up and down the steep parts successfully.
Mr Schreiner would have been interesting could one have listened to him
longer. I nearly wrote ‘talked to him’ but that was the last thing he or any other man I
have met on this trip, except a Mr Parker, could have tolerated. He talked interestingly
when I could hear him, which was when we rested. He thinks the curse of his country
is gold and diamonds, and he is a devotee of his wife’s. He is writing her life and
bringing out her last book The Camel Horn, which he says, has a prologue in most
perfect English and is all altogether her best work. So look out for it. He also said his
wife’s energy was perfectly amazing. The only person he had ever met who came near
to her – none had ever equalled her, in that respect, was Oom Paul78
. He told us a true
story of Kruger and a lion which you can perhaps swallow if you break off here and
make a separate chapter.
77
He was in fact Olive’s widower of two years, Samuel Cronwright, a lawyer and politically active
farmer who had adopted her name and published a number of books after her death, but none with this
name. 78
Stephanus Johannes Paulus Kruger (1825-1904), known as Oom Paul, 5th
President of the Republic
of South Africa (Transvaal), 1883-1900.
39
x x x x 79
Story of Oom Paul, the Zulu, the Lion and the Buck
When Oom Paul was a young man at Rustenberg (the mountains look on the
de Villier’s ‘farm’) he was famed for his strength, his courage and his fleetness of
foot. He was a mighty hunter and had no need to lie about his deeds!
One day it was decided to have a race, Zulu against White man, the prize to be
two oxen, the course a long day’s run round the great Rustenburg Mountains. And
Ooom Paul was chosen as the White champion. The Zulu wore only a loin cloth, so
Oom Paul dressed as scantily as he could, and carried nothing. The two men started, it
was not a sprint race but a long trial of endurance and they soon lost sight of one
another. At last Kruger came to a cottage and asked for coffee. The man gave it to him
but said, ‘You are mad to carry no gun, and there are lions here.’ But, said Kruger, I
must win the race. I want the two oxen that are the prize. ‘Still’ said the man, ‘You
must have a gun’. So Kruger set out running again, this time laden with a weapon. By
and by he saw the high grass moving. He thought that is a Buck. I shall kill it and
carry it home with me! So he got ready. But it was a lion. Oom Paul thought, well, I
will kill him, tho’ I cannot carry him home. And he fired, but it was a flash in the pan
only. It was an old sort of gun, I forget the technicalities, but the way I have begun my
sentences with ‘And’ and ‘So’, should have made you realize, even if you don’t know
when Kruger was a young man, that this story refers to a long time ago and a modern
sort of gun would be an anachronism). And so there was Kruger, defenceless and the
lion 100 feet from him. So Kruger thought ‘I am finished! But I will try. I’ll stand
still’. So he stood still, leaning on his gun. The lion leapt, once. Kruger stood stock
still. He leapt again nearer, and Kruger still stood still. He then leapt a third time, and
the gravel where he dug his claws in, flew up and hit Kruger in the face. Then the lion
went away.
Oom Paul put his gun to rights and went on. Soon he saw the grass moving
again. This time it was a buck so Oom Paul shot it and carried it home and yet was the
first back from the race around the mountain and won the two oxen.
x x x x x 80
The two girls and I went on for a further ramble after Mr Schreiner had left us
on the slopes of the Lion, and came (at a most undignified run, I regret to say) down
Signal Hill into what was once the oldest part of Dutch Capetown and is now
relegated to Malays and natives. On our way we passed a Malay tomb – a brick
enclosure over which we could, without staring in, catch a mere glimpse of a Malay
wearing a fez and intoning a monotonous, but musical sort of dirge or litany. Further
down, in their quarter, we saw veiled women and one child wearing a fez, who I am
sure, was European. We are told that the Malays are very keen on getting white
children, girls or boys. They treat them kindly, it is said, and poor people or
79
Her notations 80
Her notations
40
illegitimate parents often let them have their babies. I know not the truth of it; at all
events there is a great meeting of races here and some queer modifications of custom.
Over and over again I have seen veiled women, otherwise dressed in modern
European fashion, and two of them, I saw one day, joined and cheerily greeted by a
Malay who walked off with them in comradely fashion. That would not happen in
India or Egypt would it? Of course, now I come to think of it, I don’t know how
Malays and Mohammedans do treat their women in Malaya.
By the paper I see that by leaving Capetown when we did, we just missed
seeing an interesting ceremony. The Malay fast or festival, I forget, which began on
Friday and members were going to assemble at Three Anchor Bay, just near the city,
to greet the new moon.81
Thanks to my cabin companion, a Mrs Giovanetti, we were able to go to the
House of Assembly and hear some of the discussion on the Indemnity Bill82
.
Hertzog83
had his back to us, but Smuts84
was opposite and was interesting to watch.
Georgie was much touched to see him smile at his wife during the debate. But the
whole business struck me - as it does at home – as pretty futile. Hardly anyone listens
to what opponents had to say and the way votes would be cast was almost a foregone
conclusion. The Labour man who spoke, struck me as being deeply in earnest, but
irrelevant to the point immediately at issue. A Nationalist speaker spoke in Dutch and
apparently indulged in personalities that caused laughter. Patrick Duncan85
, the
Ministerialist, was clever – surely there is a cheaper way of doing business than this,
in cases where votes are not changed by speeches. It was fun tho’ for an outsider to
observe the half-hearted union between Labour and the Nationalists against the
Government. The Dutch are by no means progressive here in economic matters and
the Labour leader’s allusion to capital were not relished by his Nationalist colleagues
in the least. We left at 11am before Smuts spoke, but as he spoke in Dutch on this
occasion, we probably should not have been able to judge if his reputation for
eloquence is deserved. His energy is certainly extraordinary – he reached
Johannesburg during the Rand troubles in thirty hours they tell us. It takes three days
by train.
Perhaps you may have gathered from all this that we have been fairly
energetic. We really have, for I have not told you of our many excursions, and our
meal with, eg. the Dutch consul and his wife, Mrs Lodewyckx and her Swedish
family86
and Norwegian friends. Nor of our departure from Capetown last
81
Ramadan commenced on 28 April in 1922 82
Indemnity Bill, by which the Government intended to compensate those persons who were engaged
in military operations and were injured during the recent disturbances on the Rand
http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/28166797 83
J.B.M. Hertzog (1866-1942), 3rd
Prime Minister of South Africa (1924-39), Boer General and
parliamentarian 84
Jan Christiaan Smuts (1870-1950), Prime Minister 1919-1924 and 1939-48, statesman, philosopher
and military leader. He designed the League of Nations and wrote the Preamble to the UN Charter 85
Sir Patrick Duncan (1870-1943), Part of “Milner’s Kindergarten”, administrator and attorney,
Minister for Education, Interior and Public Health at the time of Jessie’s visit and Governor-General,
1937-1943 86
Anna Sophia Lodewyckx, neé Hansen, wife of Dr. Lodewyckx, who, incidentally, was the mother of
Karel (UM librarian) and Dymphna (wife of Manning Clark, the historian, who had been one of
Jessie’s students)
41
Wednesday, our night at the Huguenot College which is part of the scattered federal
University of South Africa – our view of the Hex Valley pass or our all night trip to
this place (Since the ink began I have been staying with George at the George Hotel at
George).
And we have been in Africa – I mean finally landed there, for just a fortnight
and a day. Georgie is certainly a goer, and could you see our timetable in which trains
brings us to a temporary destination at 11am and take us from there at 3.15pm87
next
morning with rather painful frequency, you would tremble for her. At first I tried to
apply the brake, but when I found that her idea of a rest was for us both to sort our
letters of introduction, write covering notes for them and then re-pack luggage, I
withdrew the brake and said, The Spur for me. If we are going to over-do things, let it
be nice things. But Mrs Lodewyckx was struck with the improvement in Georgie’s
appearance and as she saw her just before we left for Africa within a week of each
other, her testimony is worth having. Mrs Lodewyckx, by the way, is a most attractive
person, and on her return to Melbourne I think you should cultivate her tho how she
ever m……………………………………ye!88
Another, I would fain comment to you all, is Mrs Hordern, quite the most
attractive woman on the boat and an acquisition if you can lure her into our inner
circle. Georgie and I hope she may join us in Egypt. On the other hand, she may be
coming back to Australia quite soon. We were lucky on the boat, had a jolly little set
of whom I wrote to Sheila and she may have handed on items. It seems that we were
referred to by the others on the boat, not our set, as “the learned ladies”, “but they are
so nice, really they are” was one addendum reported to us.
Illus. 11. “The Horderns at Ferndene Hotel, Durban”.
89 (Jessie is on the right)
87
Her am’s and pm’ s may be mixed up 88
Her notations. 89
According to Ridley, based on the ship’s passenger list, they were Miss M. E. Hordern, aged 17 and
Mr P.A. Hordern, aged 19, the children of Mrs A. Hordern, aged 45 years. They were possibly part
of the Hordern merchant family of Sydney, although seemingly living in Melbourne.
42
The Chief Engineer, who was about my own height and quite squat, was the
object of my affections – as usual unrequited, he having many children and an
ever more superfluous wife. So when we went down this day for twilight to
see the boat off, I entrusted him with some doggerel on our intimates, to hand
to one of them when the Ulysses was well out from port. His kind jolly face
beamed – he didn’t know what was in it – and he said; ‘I’ll put it in a wireless
envelope and re-address it’. So naturally I thought that I had got my Parthian
shot in last, but no. On the following Tuesday morning a real wireless arrived
for me which ran: Thus:
Two learned ladies, bright and jolly
Set out for Cairo – surely folly.
But if the blacks their ways are blocking,
Their money’s safe; ‘T’is in their stocking.
Our only comfort is, it must have cost a lot.
Well I hope you have read this, as it has been written in small doses.
Otherwise it will have bored you that I should repet. I suppose most of you are
wondering the indiscreet wonder – how are they getting on? As far as I am concerned,
I have been infuriated only once, and that, was when my first photographs with THE
CAMERA were developed. They were straight; they were on separate films; no one
was beheaded, but they were void of all possible human interest and George seeing
them, and not seeing my expression, said amicably. “I think they are splendid for a
beginner”. She got bitten violently and retired to a corner to lick her wounds. I did not
see that my having taken them was anything to do with it. I did not want to be
soothed. They were bad photographs and I was stricken to the heart. For if I took bad
ones with that camera, what would I do with another one? However, they are better
now, and when Georgie asked me for one the other day to enlarge it, I mopped up the
flattery in all innocence and agreed graciously, and I suddenly realised I’d lost my
sense of humour.
Love to you all from Jess.
Illus. 12. “Rickshaw driver with head-dress, snapped from rickshaw” (in Durban) (JW)
43
Fragment, only last two pages, about Oudtshoorn and Port Elizabeth in the Eastern
Cape, before going inland again, this time to Grahamstown, the home of Rhodes
College where it is presumed they also met professional colleagues.
[…………………… ] University, a sum was raised equivalent to 10/- per head for
man, woman and child, white and coloured, in the Cape Province. I was amazed, first
at this response, secondly at such an American method being adopted.
On our way to visit Grahamstown we stayed at Oudtshoorn, where Cooks90
commanded us to visit the Canga Caves. I hate caves but was dutifully collecting
boots etc suitable for the visit when it occurred to me to ask Georgie did she like these
underground marvels. She told me that she was just going to peep in as she feared the
damp. So I inquired why we were going. She looked rather startled at such
agnosticism but finally agreed that as we’d both seen caves and didn’t care if we
never saw any more (excepting ones with Palaeolithic drawings in them) we thought
we might as well go and see an ostrich farm instead. So we did and were shown over
by a Miss Fourie, who was full of pride that out of the twenty-eight feathers which
composed a fan sent by the district to Princess Mary, fourteen were chosen from her
father’s contribution.
Mr Fourie was away, unluckily; he is farming ostriches most intelligently it
seems and has succeeded in growing naturally curly feathers which do not ever
become quite straight. The farms are quite small – seventy acres is a biggish one in
the Oodtshoorn district, and actually pays better than dairy farming to keep even two
ostriches for breeding purposes. This of course is not necessarily true for other parts
but Miss Fourie told us that, even now in the slump period, ostriches still pays them
better than any other form of farming. All the hen birds are greyish in colour, the
cocks black and white, so we were interested to see in the Port Elizabeth Museum
afterwards, a big black bird labelled a hen ostrich. Full of curiosity, we read a long
notice beside it which said that an experiment had been tried and when the ovaries of
the hen bird had been removed, they had turned black like the cocks. So it is a
question now for farmers which they want their hens for most – black feathers or
more ostriches.
We are constantly running into, without being able to stay to hear, Mrs Knox
Livingstone, a most attractive looking American lady who is touring the Union in the
interests of Prohibition, with which she links up women’s suffrage. Like all women
who haven’t the vote, her supporters here have the rosiest of views of what can be
effected by it, and it seems that if women had the vote South Africa would at once be
dry. Some of the men – all by the way, are impressed by the lecturer’s personality –
think it is a pity the two things are being run together as some of the supporters of
one, are vehemently hostile to the other.
Well, au revior, I thought you would like to hear about Professor Henderson.
Love to Clara and Jenny. J.S.W.W.
90
Presumably the Thomas Cook travel agency
44
Illus. 13. “Modderfontein estate – the House”
91(JW)
Having left Cape Town and the Eastern Cape, they would have joined the main line at
Bloemfontein and travelled north to Johannesburg and Modderfontein, before
heading a little further north again to Pretoria. According to a later letter they also
fitted in a trip to Aberfeldy which is a farming area south of Johannesburg and west
of Harrisburg – possibly to visit a relative. The following is a fragment, pages 14 and
15 of a letter.
………………………….. contented but was enraged beyond measure when the
curator would insist on including me to make me notice a Westralian
Lukaresadamisume big bigbosieneir92
or when Georgie would scream, Oh Jess This is
the Ango?obia belgica [sic] that I showed you from the train yesterday at - no, the
day before at - . So I decided when technicalities were afoot it begame me not to spoil
the pleasures of them as liked them, but to take a day off and read or write or
photograph or do nothing at all.
Onderstepoort, the great Vet. Lab93
near Pretoria seemed likely to be above
my comprehension and so when Georgie went there, I stayed behind. It turned out that
lunch and females had been provided as a sop to the ignorant: also, I nearly, as I have
told you, fell a prey to school inspection.
Still, I had a gorgeous afternoon in which I sat in a park with my writing pad,
camera, King Solomon’s Mines94
and a view of a tea room so I could do what I liked
in what order or waste the whole time in ineffectuality. Georgie had a beautiful time:
91
Possibly the home of a mining Webb relative 92
Jessie’s version of scientific names 93
ICT Lab. Presumably the same one as what is currently known as the Agricultural Research
Council-Onderstepoort Veterinary Institute which was founded in 1908 94
By Rider Haggard (see later references to Khami and Great Zimbabwe ruins and whose possible
connection to Georgie is discussed in my forthcoming paper
45
was apparently fought over by eager experts desirous of handing on knowledge. She
came back exhausted and tells me she can’t remember any of it. So she, with a sense
of duty done, and I with a sense of duty eroded, are, each in our own way, very
satisfied with the day’s entertainment. Still, in the main, Georgie is quite right that
these academic folk are pleased to see us. They are most kind.
My historians have been affable, and not only that, brief in their
instructiveness and one wife, to whom we took a dislike, poured coals of fire on us by
sending to our hotel, a big parcel of lovely examples of native beadwork – for us
both. And I don’t think there can be much officialdom again till we reach Nairobi in
August, by which time, by means of innuendo, psycho-analysis, auto suggestion or
downright lying, I may have persuaded Georgie she doesn’t like it. Honestly, it tires
her very much, and a peaceful tho’ not dull country place like this95
, gives her much
more real pleasure and improves her health.
I think she is better, and if she is not, she is certainly a wonderful traveller,
contemplating nights in the train even merely to see other people’s relations96
with the
most perfect equanimity. Also, she is wonderfully sweet natured and forgiving. I
doubt if she would choose me over again as a travelling companion as sheer
temperament makes me, I fear, often very repressive.
I cannot, and will not see, in a glorious sunset, any reason why I should be
kissed and my agnosticism over many things besides religion eg other people’s
interest in us – must often be horribly chilling. Thus the only real return I can give her
for her generosity is the return I can’t (and don’t give) – still she is so really good that
she may forgive even that, and in the meantime, I’m enjoying it hugely and without
conscience. Jess.
Illus. 14. “Galloping native, snapped from train”
97
95
This letter may have been written from Aberfeldy 96
Presumably was this referring to a Webb at Modderfontein – and perhaps one at Aberfeldy 97 Presumably in the Karoo, South Africa, or over the border in Bechuanaland
46
47
Map 3. Southern and Northern Rhodesia route
48
ADDED MATERIAL
SOUTHERN RHODESIA
There are no letters or diary for this part of the journey so this section has been
created by this editor to fill the gap, commencing with the journey through
Bechuanaland before crossing over into Southern Rhodesia.
There is evidence that they did stop off at Bulwayo and not just continue immediately
on to Victoria Falls: Jessie mentioned on 26th
October “... our hurried trip
there.”(meaning Rhodesia); she compares the streets of Elizabethville with those of
Bulawayo (June letter); there is a photo labelled “(Great) Zimbabwe Homestead”
and on 22nd
June while in the Congo she mentions the Morgenster Mission98
so it
known they spent some time in the area and at least travelled to the Great Zimbabwe
ruins and the nearby Mission.
Based on the train routes and the records of other travellers of the period the journey
through the Rhodesia’s, their journey is likely to have been as follows:
Jessie and Georgie would have departed Pretoria or Johannesburg by train and
travelled west to Mafeking, crossing the border into Bechuanaland. Turning north
again they would have passed through the desert, including through Palapye and
Serule. Daisy Chown described the countryside after Mafeking on her 1925 journey as
being “… somewhat monotonous country of rolling plains covered with long parched
grass, relieved at first by sparsely sprinkled bush and small trees, displaying in
delightful contrast to its generally drab aspect, the tender green of early spring, and
becoming more wooded as the train proceeded north. At the stations, small native
children, clad only in loin cloths, surged around the carriage windows and pestered
us to buy all kinds of roughly-made curios, basket-ware or skins.99
Crossing over into Southern Rhodesia at Plumtree, they would have moved
north-east to the important, central town of Bulawayo, the rail having reached there
in1897. Bulawayo, according to Mary Hall in 1904, “… has the makings of a fine
city, and is very ambitiously laid out in streets and avenues at right angles, after the
American style. …”.100
Jessie’s first letter from the Congo mentions that “The streets
(of Elizabethville) are wide without being bare like those of Bulawayo”. However,
(later, Sir) Stewart Gore-Browne wasn’t so impressed in 1912 – “This is a horrid
town with broad dusty streets and tin houses and a few old colonial brick edifaces, but
curiously enough very decent shops”101
And it did have a rather grand hotel, as can be
seen from the letterhead that Sir Stewart used when he stayed there on a subsequent
trip – a place where Jessie and Georgie may have also stayed.
98
Morgenster Mission, just south of Great Zimbabwe ruins, was established by the Dutch Reformed
Church in 1891 and was, and still is, re-knowned for its extensive programme of education, health and
vocational services 99
Chown, p. 78 100
Hall, pp. 3-4 101
Letter to his Aunt, Dame Ethel Locke King, 15/3/1912, photograph of the original held at Shiwa
Ngandu, Zambia
49
Hall also described a nearby famous local landmark - “The Matopos, a
beautiful range of granite hills, lie a few miles[twenty-eight] from Bulawayo and are
reached by a loop-line. The last resting place of Rhodesia’s founder is situated on an
eminence in the centre of a natural amphitheatre, whence one gets what he himself
termed “The View of the World”.102
Stella Court Treatt added in 1925 that it was a place “…where the granite
rocks, swept by the winds, in their lonely grandeau command the country as far as the
eye can see.”, adding that “It was where he came, …and sat alone and dreamed and
planned schemes for the opening up of Africa.”103
It is quite likely that Jessie and Georgie would have gone to see the famous
grave site as well as the Khami ruins which are only thirteen miles west of the town.
Chown visited them and described them as being of “… similar origin though greatly
inferior to the Great Zimbabwe ruin”. She felt that “These much discussed relics of an
obscure and mysterious past, a key no doubt to the romantic history of a vanished
civilization, comprise the scene of Rider Haggard’s King Solomon’s Mines.”104
Such
a reference would have rung bells with Jessie if she had known about it for she reports
reading Haggard while in South Africa, perhaps because this was well known – and
this connection with Haggard is referred to in more detail in this author’s forthcoming
paper. However, despite being “greatly inferior” the Kharmi ruins have been awarded
UNESCO Heritage status. 105
As described above, there is evidence which indicates that they did visit the
more distant Great Zimbabwe ruins and the near-by Morgenster Mission. To reach
these places they would have travelled north-east by train from Bulawayo on the line
to Salisbury (Harare), turning off beforehand at Gwelo onto the eastern branch-line to
Fort Victoria. The final twenty mile to the ruins would probably be undertaken by
Cape cart, or possibly by safari ie in a hammock, with a string of porters to carry the
luggage and supplies. Either way it would have been challenging travel for the
countryside is quite rugged.
102
Hall, p. 4 103
Court Treat, p.54 104
Chown, p. 88 105
http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/365
50
Illus.15. “(Great) Zimbabwe Homestead” (JW)
On her visit to the ruin Mary Hall was going to stay at Salukwe but “The inn
there was more suited to the mining men which frequented it than to a lady”106
so she
went on in a Cape cart drawn by four mules to Fort Victoria, the nearest settlement to
the ruins. She noted that “The authorities were anxious to improve the means of
passenger communication between it and the railway and I hope they have succeeded
for not many tourists would or could stand the fatigue and inconvenience of such a
trying journey as I experienced, even to see the most wonderful ruins in the world”107
.
However, it is apparent that the ruins were well worth the trouble of getting
there. Court Treatt in November 1924 (who arrived by car and called it ‘Zimbabwe’)
reported “…ruins are on a high plateau and we camped beside the ancient temple,
part of the outside circular wall of which is as perfect today as it was when it was
made, thousands of years ago108
. We were all very impressed with the place: it seems
to breathe of mystery and forgotten things, and we could almost see white-robed
priests solemnly pacing through the narrow, winding passages. It is an oft-visited
place, but in spite of that it affected me as much as if it been a discovery made by us
alone. I almost expected the Queen of Sheba to appear at any moment…”.109
Other
travellers have been similarly impressed.
Knowledge of the history of the ruins was then very limited, but they are now
recognized as a UNESCO heritage site in recognition of their importance in African
history,110
not forgetting that the country is now named after them and that their
picture appears on the bank notes. Even without an ancient history background, Jessie,
and Georgie too, would undoubtedly have found them fascinating.
From the reference made in the Congo June 21st letter it appears that they also
visited the nearby acclaimed Morgenster Mission, probably because of Georgie’s
church connections. There they would have been shown the various community health
106
Hall, p. 12 107
Hall, p.16 108
Actually work on them commenced in the 11th
century 109
Court Treatt, p. 47 110
http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/364
51
and educational services the Mission provided, as well as the woodwork department
which Jessie later compared to that in Elizabethville.
Returning to Bulawayo they would have travelled north-west to Victoria Falls.
Tabor reported that the train “…crossed nearly 300 miles of open savannah. It was
dull country with long straight stretches inundated with scrub and Mopani trees,
crossed by the odd stream. Between Gwaai and Wankie - the latter the site of a
valuable coal mine, the line ran for over seventy miles absolutely dead straight … the
longest strait stretch of railway line anywhere in Africa.”111
The trip took about
twenty-eight hours in 1904 but Tabor noted that its “… progress depended almost
entirely on the amount of game en route” ie the train was stopped at any time for
shooting.112
And animals were abundant in Chief Hwange’s area, although it is
possible that travelling at night, or that they had all been shot out near the line by
1922, might help to explain why Jessie later reported a dearth of animal sightings on
the whole journey.113
Jessie and Georgie probably stayed at the Victoria Falls Hotel which had
opened in 1904 to cater for the railway traffic and which still exists, albeit in much
grander style. Tabor reported that, “In the 1920s and 30s the Hotel was in its
heyday.”114
, a venue which was the height of fashion, with every luxury available.
From there they would have explored the Falls which lay almost at the bottom of the
garden. Daisy Chown reported in 1925 that there was “… a light trolley line
connecting the principal view points thus eliminating unnecessary walking”. 115
This
would have been helpful, given how hot and humid it can be there, and especially
appreciated by Georgie. One of the trolleys can still be seen today in the hotel
courtyard. In 1913 there was no such service and Charlotte Cameron116
had to stumble
around on her own and suffered severely from the high humidity and rough paths,
arriving back at the hotel “… feeling more dead than alive.”
Chown117
also noted that Victoria Falls was, by 1925, already “… the
favourite resort of honeymoon couples, and is the Mecca next to “Home” (England)
of all South Africans.” – indicating the extraordinarily fast development of tourism in
the region – enabled by the existence of the railway. Tabor also pointed out that only a
few years before “No more than a dozen white women, mainly wives of missionaries
and traders, had previously set eyes on the Falls.” 118
Describing the sight, Chown said that “Victoria Falls are indescribably
wonderful, the most splendid of their kind, and utterly unspoilt by man. They have
been called ‘Nature’s Masterpiece’ ”. 119
However, a number of writers refused to
describe their beauty, saying that they are too well known to all readers. Australian
111
Tabor, p. 145 112
Tabor, p. 145 113
To be discussed in my forthcoming commentary and analysis 114
Tabour, p. 159 115
Chown, p. 81 116
Cameron, pp 117-122 117
Chown, p. 81 118
Tabor, p. 148 119
Chown, p. 81
52
journalist Ronald Monson120
who was there in December 1928 while diverting
slightly from his extraordinary but barely known Cape to Cairo walk, said it slightly
differently: “... much has been written of the wonders of Victoria Falls, and never yet
has a writer been able to convey more than a suggestion of the grandeur of the awe-
inspiring spectacle. All attempts to describe the Falls must be in vain, for they defy
description, if ever a spectacle did.” 121
Hopefully Jessie and Georgie were equally enthralled, although, because it
was June when they visited, the amount of spray on the trails around the various look-
outs would have been very high because it is the peak-time of the flood coming down
the Zambezi river from the Congo. This phenomenon makes it hard to see the extent
of the Falls and to fully comprehend their immensity, not to forget that the mists soak
visitors as they wander along the paths through the rainforest, within feet of the great
drops. This may have, to Jessie’s quiet delight, also dampened Georgie’s excitement
of realizing her long held dream - “… at last she gazed on the majesty of the Falls” 122
– given her reported propensity for kissing people when she was thrilled about
something! But the experience of visiting mid-year with the much decreased visibility
can be quite disappointing to those who only have one opportunity to visit, after
invariably being told how spectacular the view was meant to be.
The issue of the swirling mid-year mist can be partially got around today
because of the availability of flights (micro-lights, small planes and choppers) over
the Falls which provide the necessary perspective. The extent of the clouds of mist is
so great that it can be seen, and the noise of the falling water, heard, from miles away
– hence its local name ‘mosi o’ tunya’, the smoke that thunders. The plus for Jessie
and Georgie however, would have been that they would not have experienced the
extreme heat and humidity which is prevalent later in the year, the weather at that
time of the year being cold at night but warm and sunny, with low humidity, during
the day. Jessie commented in Zanzibar, with some amazement on how they had
experienced blue skies for months on end, which is typical of the mid-year dry season
in southern Africa – making it perfect for visitors.
NORTHERN RHODESIA
After the spectacle of the Falls Jessie and Georgie’s train would have crossed
the bridge over the Zambezi river to Livingstone in what became the British
Protectorate of Northern Rhodesia two years later. At that time it was a territory held
by the British South Africa Company (BSAC) under a Charter. The famous railway
bridge which cuts across the dramatic gorge between the two countries was opened to
trains in September 1905. It was designed by Sir Ralph Freeman who also designed
the Sydney Harbour Bridge. It is not known if Jessie was aware that Freeman worked
at various times for Dorman Long, an engineering company of Middesborough,
England. He would undoubtedly have known her cousin Thomas Haynes’ father-in-
law, Thomas Timmins (this editor’s great grandfather), who was associated with the
120
Ronald Monson (1905-1973), famous Australian war correspondent, last worked at the Australian
War Memorial and died in Canberra where he has a street named after him. 121
Monson, p. 100 122
Rapke, p.18
53
company for many years, including as a director, and involved in the planning of the
Sydney bridge.
The Victoria Falls bridge was the highest span of its kind in the world at the
time and covered a 605 foot gap123
. At the command of Cecil Rhodes, it was built so
that the carriages would “… catch the spray from the Falls”,124
despite the fact that it
would have been much less challenging (and cheaper), engineering-wise, to have built
it above the Falls where the crossing was only 150 feet wide. But all travellers must
be grateful for his vision – including modern day bungee jumpers. Ironically, Rhodes,
reportedly, never saw the bridge completed, having died prematurely on March 26th
,
1902 aged forty-nine.
Livingstone, a few miles from the bridge, was the capital at that time (from
1907), Lusaka only receiving that honour in 1935 because of its more central location
and cooler climate. From Livingstone, which had a decent hotel, Jessie and Georgie
may have also had an opportunity to explore the Falls from the northern side – if there
had been time. But there is also a possibility that they had earlier taken a boat from
the Victoria Falls town side to enjoy the surprisingly calm waters to visit Livingstone
and experience being on the Zambezi river just before it so dramatically collapses
over the three hundred foot drop. The northern side provides a different aspect from
that of the southern side, and is equally enthralling.
The train would have then proceeded north, later crossing the broad Kafue
river on yet another impressive bridge which had been completed, with great
difficulty, in1906.125
With one exception (Broken Hill), travel through Northern
Rhodesia would have been singularly unexciting – for unlike its southern cousin, the
north had received little in the way of development, having only about 3,500
European inhabitants in 1921, with more than half of them being administrators or
traders126
. The train would have stopped very briefly at the as yet un-developed and
unprepossessing site of Lusaka, and continued north through largely flat or undulating
countryside to Broken Hill (now Kabwe), where lead deposits had been discovered by
an Australian, T.G. Davey.127
From 1902, four years before rail reached it, Broken
Hill was the site of zinc and lead mining and also the place where the then earliest
human skull (homo Rhodesianis) had been discovered in 1921 – and which would
have been of great interest to Jessie. It is possible that they stopped off to see the site
of the archeological dig, although the train schedule may not have permitted that (they
were twice weekly to the Falls in 1909128
). The final two stops in Northern Rhodesia
were on the now famous Copperbelt, at Bwana Mkubwa, the oldest modern copper
mine in the area, opened in 1902, and Ndola, founded in 1907 when the rail reached
there, as a central trading post and later the site of a major minerals refinery.
A few miles on was the Belgian Congo border and just over it, the small
station town of Sakania. The border was 2,156 miles from the railway’s starting point
at Cape Town and here it left British territory for the first time, having reached the
123
Strage, p. 127 124
Tabor, p. 151 125
Tabor, p. 179 126
Martin, p. 28 127
Tabor, p.188 128
Tabor, p. 154
54
Congo on December 11, 1909 and Elizabethville nine months later. 129
Travelling
straight through from Bulawayo to Elizabethville, a few miles further north miles
from Sakania, would have taken about three days, circa 1918-26. 130
Strage reports about the southern Congo plateau countryside at mid-year, a
description which could also have been applied to the Northern Rhodesia countryside
“…the weather was perennially balmy, and the countryside – lush but sparse trees
and beyond them open grass and a thin horizon of gentle hills - looked more like
Dorset than central Africa.” 131
It would have been a tedious journey for Jessie and
Georgie, as train facilities were basic and the views, apart from the Falls, not
particularly exciting, but it is hoped that they appreciated that the rail they were
travelling on was less than two decades old and the result of enormous efforts by
planners, financiers, engineers and thousands of labourers working under very harsh
conditions to open up southern Africa to the outside world.
Felix Shay, an American doing the reverse journey (Cairo to Cape) in 1923
with his wife, provided a description of Elizabethville (which had been named after
the Belgian Queen) a year after Jessie and Georgie passed through – “… a typical,
tropical town of wide streets, one-storey houses, a few central stores and bars, a
motion picture theatre, a bank or two, buildings for officials and such. The whole
covers a tremendous area …”. He also commented with pleasure about Elizabethville
being “…the first vestige of civilization…” with “…ice and edible food, clean beds
and other symbols of luxury”.
These services were especially appreciated because he and his wife had been
travelling on what he described, in so many words, as a very unpleasant boat on the
Congo river to Bukama, which gives an insight into the conditions Jessie and Georgie
were yet to experience eg “There was one shower bath on this boat for several white
passengers, which might seem to indicate a complication. There was no complication
at all: the bathroom was used as a storage room and was not available for its
ostensible service … we dipped pails of water out of the Lualaba each morning and
tried to maintain our morale”. And “At night mosquitoes distributed their favours
and fevers indiscriminately between us and the blacks” Because there was no ice,
‘antelope’ were shot from the deck each day and hauled aboard for dinner. Singularly
missing was any description of the toilet facilities.
But he did say that “The scenery was much more varied and much more
beautiful than along the Nile….”
Shay also reported that Elizabethville had enjoyed a special prosperity during
the World War 1 period because of its very productive copper mines which
“…employed thousands of Africans and enough white men to jeep them in order….”
But since then, both the Congo and Elizabethville had declined economically, with
bankruptcy “the order of the day”. He also described the golf club with its one small
hut and the course which was embellished with six hundred ant hills, many over
129
Tabor, p. 206 130
Strage, p. 89 131
Strage, p.130
55
twenty feet tall - which obviously made for some rather challenging golfing hazards.
132
American journalist Marcosson adds to the picture of Elizabethville at the time
of his mid-1920 visit133
: “Within ten years it has grown from a small prospecting
outfit in the wilderness, two hundred and fifty miles from a railway, to an industry
employing at the time of my visit more than 1,000 white men and 15,000 blacks …
Equally remarkable is the mushroom growth of Elizabethville, the wonder town of the
Congo. … a spot in the jungle dominated by huge anthills … some of them forty feet
high …”. And, “When I rode in a motor car down Elizabethville’s broad, electric-
lighted avenues and saw smartly dressed women on the side-walk, beheld Belgians
playing tennis … on one side, Englishmen at golf on the other … Everywhere I heard
English spoken. This was due to the large British interests in the Union Miniére and
the presence of so many American engineers.”
He also described the way the boats stopped at night while on the river
because: “The astonishing thing about the Congo river is its inconsistency. Although
six miles wide in many parts it is frequently not more than six feet deep. This makes
navigation dangerous and difficult … soundings must be taken continually.”134
Jessie and Georgie were in for quite an experience (even if they didn’t play golf).
END OF ADDED MATERIAL
132
Shay, in National Geographic, pp. 240-246 133
Marcosson, p.78 134
Marcosson, p. 100
56
57
Map 4: Belgian Congo route
58
BELGIAN CONGO
An almost complete letter and a fragment covering the first part of their time spent in
the Belgian Congo, including their arrival in Elizabethville, the capital of the mineral
rich Katanga province.
… do for a short time, tho not to the same extent in the south, we had bi-
lingual notices.
21st [June]
Our train arrived after dark (about 7pm) at Elizabethville where we were
greeted by two men, the proprietor of the hotel (Mr Dimnice [?] an Italian) and a M.
Herquelle from the Compté Special de Katanga. Katanga is the name of this southern
province of the Congo, and I was under the impression that the Comité Special was a
progress association. By no means, at least not in the sense which Beechworth and
Jamieson have them. One department deals with agriculture, one with forestry, a third
with the geology of the district and so on. Today we were taken to pay our respects to
the head of it, M. Pathé (?) and thence to the British Consul, Mr Denton-Thomson, an
interesting looking young Englishman who had intended to put us up, only his wife
had taken ill with a sort of gastric influenza that is prevalent here.
Bad luck for us, for we are not terribly comfortable as Minnie Fulton135
would
say, at the hotel,136
and besides we would much like a yarn with him. Our amicable
friend, M. Herquelle being present, we could not prosecute our inquiries as to the true
relationships of the Belgians and the British, but we intend to call again.
In the afternoon we were taken over the smelting works of the Star of Congo
and other mines of this highly mineralised district. The noise was great and we stood
in a shower of fine dust, and so that, especially as our guide spoke imperfect English,
I could not follow very intelligently what was happening. But I gathered that in some
ten years’ time this will be as large as the largest similar works in America, and that
the copper is only 97% pure (99.8 being the ideal). Also carried away a picture that I
should like to see etched of dark surroundings, bronze figures of natives, two golden
streams of moulten slack descending into water and another golden stream further on
pouring into moulds that soon turned grey. At the top of the building I looked at a
burning, fiery furnace that burned green, a lovely and terrible sight.
We returned about five, and shortly after were visited by a vivid looking girl,
who introduced herself as Mr Watson’s typist and invited us to call on him. This we
hope to do tomorrow afternoon. She referred to herself as a Britisher which interested
me very much, as, though she does not look it, she is Dutch (Boer). She is educated
Dutch however, and as most of these are, in favour of remaining part of the Empire.
She thinks Smuts is working for a republic. We would like to see more of her as she is
keen and frank.
135
Minnie (Wilhelmina) Fulton was one of Jessie’s many cousins on the Watson side of the family 136
This is rather surprising because the following year Felix Shay raved about the facilities and
services, and Elizabethville was meant to be the height of sophistication in the region at the time.
59
Today at the Consul’s we were rather startled to hear that we must take food and a
‘boy’ to Bukama as, the Consul and M. Herquelle said, there was a place to sleep in,
but nothing else.
22nd
: “Cooks”137
says that it is unnecessary and a ‘boy’ more bother than he is
worth; still, the boat coming up the Congo to Bukama may get on a sandbank and be
some days late and there may be a great shortage of stores, so we will take a few iron
rations and if we do not need them, trade them to the natives.
This morning M. Herquelle dutifully called to take us out. We first wasted a
lot of time at the Standard Bank where we got about 54.75 francs against 56.50 at
Cook’s yesterday. Thence we visited a native school kept by certain ‘White Fathers’,
the native quarters and, as an afterthought, the gaol. The ‘Fathers’ struck me as fine
men with pleasant expressions, and the manual work taught to the natives was
thoroughly taught. All in contrast with the Morgenster Mission at Zimbabwe where
things were made as wanted and a native, after laboriously making a chair, made , say,
part of a sideboard. Here they made each thing eighteen times. But this of course is
subsidised by the Government. There is a blacksmithing Department and the mines
send their boys to learn how to repair machinery etc.
26th
Hence we went to see the white boys’ school – apparently good but the
arrangements for washing primitive – zinc sinks and dirty looking cement boxes for
shower bathing. The ‘Fathers’ we [… …] saw - tall, honest looking men. The one
who showed us over was like this: long faced, blue eyed and black haired type of
Irishman and capable, I should imagine of fanaticism. Some folk say these priests
have too much power in the Congo, but the aide for M. de Bouw says that, as in most
new countries, folk go their own way in religious matters – consequently are not Krist
ridden.
Illus. 16. Native Mine Workers Huts, Katanga c1923 138
After a drive in which we saw the stiff, whitewashed and hygienic editions of
native kraals in which the boys recruited for work on the mines etc were kept under
medical inspection for a month after engagement, and before starting their jobs. We
137
Thomas Cook’s Handbook presumably 138
Shay, in National Geographic, p. 225
60
passed some blacks chained and under escort, turning into the gaol. This inspired our
M. Herquelle to take us over this institution willy-nilly, [but] we had to wait till he
enquired of the Governor if we might. He agreed. He was another interesting type,
extraordinarily tall and with an intelligent and rather sad face, and we were both
pleased when after showing us the perfectly clean blacks’ quarters; their large
allowance of food and their bathrooms – a more attractive affair than those at the
school, although there was one large room with pipes from end to end from which
water fell at intervals - he asked to be excused showing us the whites’. The blacks are
not self-conscious and seem at all events, quite indifferent to being looked at.
That afternoon M. Herquelle gave us (and himself) a holiday which we
employed in visiting Mr Watson, the representative of Robert Williams here. Robert
Williams is a magnate who has had more than anyone else to do with the Tanganyika
Concession and with railroad construction to the Congo.139
Major Gordon and Mrs Harrison both gave us letters of introduction to this Mr
Watson but as the Major had described me [first?] as Australia’s most eminent
entomologist, I refrained from presenting his, considering that Mrs Harrison was just
a chance acquaintance of ours, met at Lady Browne’s in Cape Town. We felt it very
nice of Mr Denton-Thomson and this Mr Watson to be so concerned that owing to
sickness of one’s wife and the absence of the other’s, neither could ask us to stay at
their homes. Indeed, in this one matter our luck was out, three folk were prepared to
put us up when we should arrive. But M. de Bouw was out of town when our letter
arrived addressed to him, Mrs Watson was away and Mrs Denton-Thomson down
with gastric flu.
On Frid. 23rd
(I am writing this on the 26th
on our way to Bukama) M.
Herquelle again arrived with a car, this time to drive us out to the oldest and most
famous – and nearest – of the copper mines, which makes this country - the Star of the
Congo. This was interesting and not nerve wracking as most mine exploration is to
me. I hate the lack of air so much. This however, is a series of big quarries, only a
very few tunnels having as yet been made. All work is consequently done in the open
and instead of blackness we saw much beautiful colour. Not only was there the
occasional bright red or blue of a native’s skirt (for some have not yet adopted the
community shirt and trousers) but in addition to the usual grey quarry colour there
were masses of stone- like turquoise material, brilliant green malachite, black stone
and a fine greenish dust in many places. In one quarry a deep green lake made a
picture like a miniature Swiss lake.
The manager who showed us over was another of those surprisingly tall,
handsome young Belgians, with that delightfully British prejudice, we think so
English. He took us to his little dwelling, revived us with delicious champagne no
less, and rejoiced in our admiration of a lovely white dog, Manor, which with his cat
Pussy and his monkey Napoleon, constituted his bachelor establishment. On leaving I
asked for the dog. His face was a study before he grasped that I jested, and in broken
English, he stammered – I cannot – she would not go – she loves one. It was not at all
sentimental, merely anxious and explanatory.
139
Sir Robert Williams (1860-1938), a Scottish mining engineer, explorer and railway developer, was
one of Rhodes’ team and one of the “Rand Lords” and a stalwart of the Cape to Cairo railway concept
61
If you wish to know that they had at the mine, also cobalt, arsenic and talc
(which does not pay, it being occasionally required here merely for a dance at
Elizabethville), and if to know the proportion of each, which particular compound that
makes the greener colour and which the bluer, well, is it not written in the book of
Georgie? At all events your servant promptly disembarrasses her mind of these
matters, but she kept one or two tiny bits of stone to show you withafter.
I should have mentioned that on the way out we were shown over a compound
in which natives are kept for a month before being sent to work for which they have
enlisted. It is a collection of huts in a compound, built like the natives’, but white
washed, standardized, clean, hygienic and ugly. The overseer was the image of Uncle
Arthur140
: it was hard but for his slightly foreign accent to realise he was of a different
race, until I asked him a mild question about the difficulty141
of making these natives
clean, or whether as some are. They were clean already. He then launched into an
explicit and most un-English disquisition on the sanitary arrangements employed, then
took and showed us. It was quite simple.
On our return to the hotel we found a letter from M. de Bouw (pronounced
like Bowe) to whom Georgie had sent on Mr Lodewyckx’s142
introduction. Having
been away he found this only on his return and wrote post haste to say he and his wife
would call at 5pm to take us out. They did and these people really gave us a delightful
time. Both spoke English, they had a car, and not only were kind but most congenial.
So we went for a run with them on Friday, had lunch on Saturday, were brought back
to the shops for some necessary purchases and again called for us to go for a run and
back for the evening meal. We saw a farm in which they were interested, a queer
mixture to our ideas, of salad vegetables, guavas, bananas and paw-paws, alas not
ripe, and also some really interesting and attractive foreign home life. Mme. de Bouw
was young, with a young baby, who to their dismay, and of course for the only time
on record, roared for nearly an hour when put to bed. They were both entranced with
him, and he was a blonde beaming specimen of what the Congo can produce. He has
to have part of a gram of quinine in his porridge, but until five or six will develop as
well here as in Europe. It was nice too, to see again [at?] a beautifully kept home and
to have really nice simple food; the potato chips were particularly good, and a cheese
soufflé. He was intensely interested in Australian labour conditions of which neither
of us knows much, except that discontent has been extremely exaggerated, and he was
able to gratify much of our curiosity as to the relation of the Comité Special to the
Government here.
I have their address in Brussels in case I go there next year. They will be home
on leave to show the baby – and are wondering how, after the freedom of colonial life
and being mistress in her own house, Madam is going to fit for a time into conditions
she took for granted two years ago. In addition to their other kindnesses (not the least
of which was leaving us free on Saturday afternoon from having to talk from lunch to
dinnertime) they tried to find us a ‘boy’ to go with us this more difficult part of our
trip, from Elizabethville to Bukama and Kabalo to Albertville. Failing that, M. de
140
Probably her maternal uncle Arthur Watson (1862-1915), married to Jessie Maconchie 141
There are a couple of extra words inserted here, which confuse the sentence 142
Here she refers to him as ‘Mr”, not Doctor, but correctly uses ‘x’ as the last letter to his name. He
previously worked in the Congo
62
Bouw came to the hotel to drive us to the station and see us off. The Governor and the
Comité Special have both sent word to officials along the line and given us letters to
present. The Governor’s, we are told, will be invaluable. Still, there seems to be
hardly any accommodation and possibly no food for us, so with M. Herquelle for
guide we laid in provisions for the second day of our train journey to Bukama and for
the boat from Bukama to Kabolo. Finally we left Elizabethville about 10.10am on
Sunday morning with M. de Bouw, the British Consul, his son aged two and M.
Herquelle to see us off.
Elizabethville is a pretty little city, but for the natives, native shops and a few
tin houses, could be a small, modern city on the continent. The streets are wide
without being bare like those of Bulawayo, and alas, of most new British towns, for
the native trees have been cut down only a little, enough for buildings and to keep
away the mosquitos. From the centre, streets radiate, ending shortly in the usual
rectangular plan of the American type but with white colonnaded shops and
restaurants in the open air that is so thoroughly foreign to us.
Illus. 17. Sketch of Elizabethville town layout (JW)
Building operations are going on apace so that the town looks untidier than it
will do eventually and one wanders along the roadway more than on the footpaths.
But for a city of twelve years old and perhaps not two thousand white inhabitants, it
can give us many points. Judging from the catch-less bathrooms and other careless
sanitary arrangements there, one would form an adverse opinion of the Belgian’s
cleanliness, but the glimpses we had of an ordinary gentleman’s home corrected any
hasty generalizations of this kind. While the way they have preserved the trees and
already taken advantage of a sudden falling away of the land on one side of the town
to make a Boulevard, the’re overlooking the forest and two distant mountains, makes
one appreciate their artistic sense.
We had a good time there, with some misgivings. Everyone said Bukama, our
next stopping place north, stood in social nothingness; the guide book143
said terribly
hot and depressing and we know it is malarious, that there was doubt of any
accommodation and that even if we got a room, there might be no food. But our faith
in our luck held, and we thought it a good omen that the dining car went on working
for the first day, but also till breakfast next morning.
Au revoir, J.
143
Probably the Thomas Cook Handbook
63
A fragment
For the rest, we have learnt from a second interview alone with the Consul,
that the alleged ill-will between Belgian and British is largely due to two things, one
the inferior type of each nation, in particular the Englishman who thinks any Belgian
who can’t talk English is a blithering idiot; the other, the fact that this being their own
colony, the Belgians desire to keep it theirs – as M. de B put it. They want visitors to
recognize it is the Belgian’s country and not run it for them. For the rest, it is most
cosmopolitan and in it we have seen Dutch, English, American, Portuguese and we
hear there are many Italians and Greeks. Everyone has been cordial and helpful to us
and M. de Bouw bade us send along some settlers.
Au revoir, Jess.
Letter covering the continuation of the Congo journey, from Elizabethville to Bukama
by train. Bukama is727 kms from the border with Northern Rhodesia, and where the
rail had reached only four years earlier144
. This is where the rail service from the
Cape terminated at that time. The town was very basic and lay in a very marshy area.
From Bukama they continued downstream by stern wheel paddle steamer on the
Lualaba (Upper Congo river) to Kabolo where they caught a train travelling east to
Albertville on the shores of Lake Tanganyika.
Wed. 28 June
Dear Effie and Flos,
I continue my diary letter145
for you though I doubt you will get as good letters
or as useful a diary as if I kept the two separate. Only I fear I should not write much if
I kept a full diary first: it takes too long. If what I write will interest any of the family,
read extracts to them but don’t give these letters to anyone else. At times it will be too
intimate and will Flos please give the letter back to Effie.
I am writing on a Congo steamer and the vibration plus what I fear are the
bites of tsetse flies, account for the super irregularities of the script. There have been
no cases of sleeping sickness for a long time, so, like the bitten ones, hope for the best
and don’t worry.
25th
.You will remember that we left Elisabethville in a state of great
uncertainty as to our fate at Bukama – and indeed as to our provisioning on the train
going further. At first our fears were justified because of an unpleasant scene in the
dining saloon. Four men, instead of eating, were playing cards. Another at our table
knelt on his chair beside me to join in the gamble. He got so excited that he leant on
me. I was promptly losing my temper when the chief of the saloon intervened and he
occupied his own space. But he lost – a fracas seemed imminent and we were glad to
see near us a polished and genial gentleman who spoke English and exchanged words
with us. Suddenly the train stopped and when it started again two of the men got up
144
Tabor, p. 206 145
It is not clear if she is referring to having used a proper ‘letter diary’ (as she did on the Nile leg of
the journey) or if she just means that her letters are acting as a continuing record
64
and went out. Soon after we went to our compartment and did not know till next day
that the two men had got off the moving train: That one, an American, had won
heavily, that my table companion had lost all he had, namely several thousand francs,
and that another man, a Portuguese or Italian, had lost 6000 fr. But, as he too had
decamped with the American, it was suspected that they were in collusion and had
played false.
My friend had to console himself with drink and had to be helped next day
into the train from the station where he had got off, by a native. We were thankful that
he was Belgian and that none of the villains of the piece, drinker or cheats, were
English. Our informant was the genial gentleman referred to. He is Dutch, so enough
has been said to indicate what a cosmopolitan crowd were journeying to Bukama.
After breakfast the second day in the train, our dining car left us and we were
planning a jolly little picnic for lunch when a young and attractive girl, a Belgian,
whose carriage had gone with the car, requested to share our specially reserved
compartment. We were desolated but had the manners to permit it and were rewarded
later. Firstly, some men who were apparently friendly with her, including the genial
man, presented us with many mandarins. Secondly, while our train waited for hours at
a certain station (Kasala Sud, or South), the maiden who had meanwhile [?] informed
us that she was rejoining her fiancé, suddenly caught sight of an incoming train from
Burkama and of the fiancé on it. He came, they went; he evidently preferred to be
with other men, and we were free with clear consciences to have our little picnic as
we had planned it. It was rather thrilling, making tea on a spirit stove while the train
on its narrow gauge146
, rocked down the inclines, but it was admirable lemon tea that
was achieved at last.
After so much veldt and high plateau, the Congo scenery where one has the
work of rivers, even when one cannot see any water, and can get views over valleys to
distant hills, foliage often with young red leaves147
, and occasional glimpses of little
creeks, is more beautiful. As we came lower and lower148
, the vegetation looked more
tropical. Our engine, however, burst some essential and instead of arriving at 4.30 (pm
not am as Cooks had told us thru’ a misprint in the timetable) we did not reach
Bukama till after dark, about 7pm.
Talk of confusion! By some gift of providence to me personally, Georgie
likes, nay, loves, looking after luggage. Joyfully she descended onto a low station full
of gesticulating, jabbering natives, baggages, and a few whites absolutely absorbed in
their own affairs. For long she finds no one to meet us and no station master, and we
had, you will remember, no certainty of where to lay our heads. By dint of peering
into the face of every one and asking every white if he were the Chef de Gare, she
found him, in the possession of a note from a Mr Hoogeveen saying his boy would
guide us to our room. I, meanwhile, having nothing to do – not, I assure you, from
either brutality or inefficiency, tho’ never, never would I contemplate being in an
146
The Belgian Congo gauge was 3ft 3 3/4 inches (1 metre) compared to the ‘Cape’ gauge of 3 foot 6
inches 147
Probably the Mopane tree (Colophospermum mopane) which provide a beautiful display in the latter
half of the dry season in many parts of southern Africa 148
They were coming down off the southern African plateau on which the Rhodesia’s and part of South
Africa lie
65
unknown part with as much luggage as we had with us – had “withdrawn my attention
and thought of Tom Thumb”149
.
I had been amused amidst the chaos to see and hear a ‘boy’ calmly jangling his
little musical instrument. Then I just sat in the carriage until a radiant Georgie
appeared with carriers. While she departed again, I strayed off150
over Africa with
thirteen natives, one leading with a lamp, the others each with luggage, some, it
seems, not ours. Then Georgie joined up and we walked for fifteen minutes to find
ourselves in a tiny bedroom of a tin hotel seen by the light of a hurricane lamp, and
snowed in with boxes and chattering blacks. Then the chief boy who knew some
English replied yes, we could get dinner. We then paid the ‘boys’, but all
accompanied us and off we walked for another fifteen minutes, down one hill and up
another, invisible but perceptible, till we arrived in a little settlement and Mr
Hoogeveen’s store and house.
Mr Hoogeveens is a Belgian of Dutch extraction in a Belgico-Greek company,
who occasionally puts people up. He had no room for us but had secured one at the
railway hotel which is merely furnished rooms (without food) under the control of the
station master. And he was willing, with apologies for defects owing to difficulties of
transit, only a two weekly service from Elisabethville and the absence of his wife, to
give us our meals.
We sat down after waiting long for bread which came on the train with us.
And of all places in the world, it was here that we first had, at an hotel or boarding
house, continental and well cooked viands. We had had them continental after a
fashion. We had them well cooked but never got at the same time. We had soup,
tomatoes with hard boiled eggs (which I omitted) and a most gracious mayonnaise
(which I did not). Then stew (not very good) and vegetables. Then slices of cheese,
with bread and butter – then cake, served as pudding. Then coffee. In every case
except the soup we were given plates and then served ourselves from dishes handed
around by blacks.
Next day our lunch was soup, potato and sardine salad, stewed fowl, sauce,
pastry. Our dinner, soup, fresh fish, salad, beef cooked strangely and cinnamon cake -
wine was on the table and used by all. It was really excellent of its kind, and there was
enough meat for those who might not care for the kickshaws.151
Our Dutch friend (the
genial man), our gambling drunkard, a Portuguese, a Belgian who had learnt to speak
very good English in China, and two other men talking French – probably Belgians,
and our host, were at table with us.
M. Hoogeveens was most expert and impartial with his knife and fork, but our
Dutchman who is a man of the world, handled the conversation admirably, talking
French for a while, then English, then French again so no one need to be silent long.
From him one learned that the Portuguese, whom I had thought rather a handsome and
interesting fellow, had been a slave trader, and though that name could no longer be
149
Tom Thumb - perhaps because he was always going off on adventures, getting into trouble,
including getting swallowed up, and being rescued 150
ie day dreaming 151
Kickshaws, a tidbit, a delicacy, a corruption of ‘quelque chose’
66
given frankly to his proceedings, he still exploited the natives and was by no means a
good sort.
When we woke the first morning in Bukama we found it a little place perched
on two small hills and the flats in front. The Congo embraces it almost on a circle.
Even in this, their winter, a heat haze was over all and M. Hoogeveens would not let
us move outside for some time after the midday meal. Three weeks before our arrival,
two missionary ladies of a Pentecostal mission – whatever that may be - had arrived
there. They would not take quinine because it was against their faith (this was
corroborated to us later by an English speaking missionary who did not share this
mania). Also, ‘because they were in the hand of God’ they went about without hats as
cheerfully as in Ireland and Scotland whence they came. One got malaria – joined the
boat to go to her mission and two days later was dead. The doctor had been
summoned, had ordered quinine injection – but had been told it was against their
religion. Whether the other lives or not, I do not know. But she did not, for all her
friend’s experience, take quinine.
Our two other excitements at Bukama were Mavukolo and the question, will
the boat arrive to time or not? All travellers here who know, travel in this part of the
country with a ‘boy’. He sees to one’s bath, one’s coffee, one’s luggage porters to and
from boats etc. We had none. But a native who had arrived by the same train as we,
who however seemed perfectly at home with M. Hoogeveens’ boy and who had held
his tongue while walking along with our crew from the station, came in the morning
to say in French that he too wished to go to Kigoma and would like to go as our ‘boy’!
30 frs a month would be plenty – he knew how to clean boots, bring hot water etc. In
short, had been a houseboy and could take from us that awful shell-less feeling one
has when having to do for ourselves things no one else does and under conditions one
never has seen before. Besides, he could make152
Only one thing was fishy: his latest book ie pamphlet showing his employer’s
name, his wage and discharge, was missing: burnt he said. Still he had a nice face. We
took him, or rather Georgie did, and oh the comfort of having at one’s beck and call a
human being who, in the intervals of his jobs, was not only willing but highly
gratified to sit nearby and do nothing. Never in the way and never out of the way,
describes the first day of a native’s service to you. He got his certificate from the
doctor without which he could not travel; everything in the garden was lovely, but
alas, towards evening he developed a wife and child, of which, hereto, he had said
nothing. Whether it was merely the native way of doing one thing at a time, that made
him deem it best to fix up about himself and then go on to require a medical certificate
for the lady and her fare, or whether it was genuine deceit, we know not. M.
Hoogeveens advised us to try for another: our Dutch associate, not to take it seriously
but to take the wife too as she was to go only the boat journey as far as Kabalo. So we
made peace with Kolo who was obviously relieved and sought diligently for boots to
clean, and coffee to make for his gratified possessors.
For the other matter, there is an entirely infectious feeling at Bukama that time
does not matter, so every one seemed to be indifferent and we with them, whether the
152
Inserted above the line and then breaks off
67
Louis Cousin153
, came in, or the smaller boat, or whether either came in the morning
or the afternoon or not until the next day. Finally, a small boat arrived after dark, as
the L.C. had not, in the falling river,154
been able to get up so far. The Kongolo would
however, leave next (Wednesday) afternoon.
Next morning pandemonium reigned: The Kongola would leave at 7am. You
can imagine the rush: all was ready, ‘boys’ appeared from the station master’s to carry
luggage, and then a book for us to sign, also from the stationmaster stating that the
boat would leave at 8am and would we kindly sign it. We did. Went to the boat, found
our watches fast, and we could have time to breakfast before we left. So off we
trekked, but Georgie, who had been much more hurried than I, began to feel very
queer. Instead of getting red with the fluster, she got white and rather alarmed me. But
some coffee and bread and butter recovered her, and by 8m we had walked the plank
of a tiny grubby, native infested little motor launch and began our trip down the
Congo.
At this part, the river is called the Lualaba and for a day and a half the scenery
is very pretty and full of interest. Now thru’ tropical jungle, now through grassy flats,
with a few well chosen palm trees reflecting in the water. Now wide, now narrow.
Occasional little tributaries give short vistas inland, occasional pretty villages with
reed windscreens, long gleaming canoes and amphibious babies. Occasionally too,
there is a crocodile which makes one surprised that anyone, let alone a child, should
ever go near the water. Folks throw tins in from the steamer and there is instantly a
rush and tumble and the most energetic swimming contest to secure them.
Mavukolo and his wife had duly appeared at the laundry stage. She was young
and attractive, arrayed in reddish brown print with huge white patterns on it, and a
kerchief to match bound round her head and fastened under her chin with straps of
beads. The infant was tiny: its age according to its papa, is fifty-eight. Presumably he
means days, for he is an up to date young fellow, can count and he says, read. The
lady took one of their two big bundles on her head, and was carrying the baby,
stepped daintily across the plank which was rather giving us pause. Her lord took one
bundle and disappeared but we found him by our baggage on the boat. Then he
produced a small instrument and played contentedly. She occupied herself maternally.
We were given the Captain’s own little sanctuary, a wooden structure tied to
the boat. Later we transferred on to the Louis Cousin , a much bigger paddle steamer
and we were given a cabin each for which we were seriously thankful, for they are
tiny with wire mattressed bed, basin - and nothing more – and supplied by a jolly, but
dismayed Belgian captain who had expected six and received ten passengers, with a
lunch of sorts. We breakfast at 7.30am, lunch at 12.30pm, dine at 7pm. This morning
we had Norwegian sardines, Bombay butter, Dutch cheese, coffee, Swiss milk and
sour bread.
153
Isaac Marcossen travelled on it in 1920 and said, “The Louis Cousin, a 150 ton vessel, was a fair
example of the type of craft proving the principle means of transport on the Congo and Lualaba. Like
all her sisters she resembled the small Ohio river boats I knew as a child in Louisville”. p. 84 154
The water level of the Congo, including its upper reaches which are known as the Lualaba, is
subject to significant seasonal variation, from dry season (mid-year) to the wet season (approx. October
to April).
68
Illus. 18. The Louis Cousin, 1920155
Later we have seen the captain investing in paw paws and our hopes are high.
There is no water in our cabins – one has to prise out Mavukolo from the lower deck
to secure any. The sanitary arrangements are – well, difficult. At times it is very hot
and very noisy. But it is all delightful. There is no dust – there is room to take a turn
or so, and one goes on slowly all the time. Sometimes now we are passing great
stretches of papyrus that seem to reach to the horizon – at others one can see to lofty
mountains, unfortunately too hazy for our cameras.
Mavukola is a constant amusement in the things he desires us to give him.
Georgie tore up a camisole today and gave him the long neck and sleeves part to scrub
boots with; he protested. No – the piccanin156
. We really hope to see it so habited.
Then he found my bathing cap and was refused it, but was given two sheets of paper
and an envelope stained with permanganate of potash, for what purpose I do not
know. He did some washing for me and I was just in time to stop him suspending on
string from this upper deck, a pair of silk pants, the gift of Miss Scott157
, scalloped and
truelover’s knots in cerise. Georgie’s washing which was equally intimate, and more
numerous I insisted on him taking en-bas though how he will interpret the phrase I do
not know. One of my articles I saw fall into the river. I asked what it was. By vigorous
pantomime, unnecessarily explicit, he has informed me that it was a handkerchief. He
is having a fine lazy time of it, and so are we.
Our drunk friend is still with us. He drinks with an Indian who meals with us
all, is violently English and the more so as he gets drunker and angrier. The Belgian,
who, to do him justice, looks weak rather than vicious, got told by him yesterday that
he ought to learn English and then they could discuss matters probably [properly?].
The lack of a common language does not appear to hinder their potations. We take
155
Homer Leroy Shantz, Jan. 1920, Uni. Arizona Herbarium 156
Baby or small child 157
This is likely to have been ‘Scotty’ (Miss Violet Scott) who was a long time housekeeper to the
family of her cousin Thomas Haynes (this editor’s grandfather)
69
care to keep the urbane Dutch gentleman between us and them, and reward him with a
tumblerful of lemon tea at 4pm. Amongst the others are two missionaries in the
speech of whom methought I detected a familiar twang. Tis true. They are
Australians; have been here only a few months and in Tasmania last year had heard of
two ladies going to the Cape to Cairo from the Melbourne University. Were we the
ones? We were and on the strength of it, Georgie is to get a large ant that lays eggs,
some tsetse flies and a dead scorpion.
Here endeth, June 28th
, the first instalment of the river trip. Yours ever, Jess.
The following is an extract from a later letter (nd) about Tanganyika which includes
mention of their last day in the Congo.
Monday 10 July we spent most peacefully at Albertville158
waiting for the
Vengeur to sail at 7pm. We merely watched the constant traffic of natives past the
hotel, at least I did. Georgie was at first engaged in feverishly trying to absorb the
Annual for 1921 of the African World which the Administrator had lent us the day
before and which had to be returned when our luggage went to the boat as Kolo would
have to stay to watch it. Then, at the very end of the day, it was sprung on us that (1)
we must be on board by 6pm, (2) food was not procurable on board. So an early tea
must be obtained at the hotel and (3) a health certificate must be got from the Doctor
who lived right away from the present village on the highest point of the town to be.
So all the good effects of the loaf were dissipated in a wild rush round.
Georgie was very tired; still six o’clock found us on the pier talking to a Norwegian
Captain of another boat that plies sailing into Northern Rhodesia, and the forlorn
Englishman who tries to make a living in enamel goods at Albertville. P.S. G says no,
it is another who sells enamel […] and has a busy general store. (They are to some
extent ousting native basket-ware for certain purposes. I saw one woman wearing a
basin as a hat and later she turned it up the other way and it balanced just as well.)
We were given – it is the perquisite of the few white women travellers and of
bishops - the captain’s cabin. The other passengers slept on deck on the floor, or the
better off ones in deck chairs. These and hurricane lamps will be abidingly associated
in my mind with the Congo. The first are the luxury of the coloured people – the other
the […] of the whites and the coloured alike. But on the Vengeur Georgie and a Hindu
or an Arab were the only possessors of the deck chair. He wrapped himself up, slept;
two women and a young man who accompanied him chattered freely. The boat began
to rock wildly tho the lake looked perfectly calm. I fled and lay resolutely in the one
position all night on the Captain’s couch. Georgie shared the cabin but only had her
long deck chair. So it was two rather dishevelled mortals, and one of them had not
even glanced at the moonlight on the lake, who were met at the ramshackle pier (that
was all the Germans had left of their formerly good landing stage at Kigoma) by the
Senior Commissioner Mr Bagenal.
158
Albertville, now known as Kalemie, on the western side of Lake Tanganyika
70
71
Map 5. Tanganyika and Zanzibar route
72
TANGANYIKA AND ZANZIBAR
These letters cover their travels after arriving from the Congo at Kigoma on the
eastern side of Lake Tanganyika and thereafter travelling east to the coast. They only
spent a very short time at Kigoma and Ujiji before going on the train to Tabora,
staying there for some days. They then continued on to Dar-es-Salaam before
embarking on a boat for Zanzibar where they stayed briefly. They then boarded a
boat, stopping off at Tanga, a major port on the coast, before arriving in Mombasa to
commence the Kenyan leg of their journey.
In this letter which is missing its beginning and is therefore undated, Jessie starts off
by referring to Tabora but then reverts back to Kigoma and their arrival from the
Congo, and then continues with stories of subsequent places in Tanganyika. The place
names have been inserted.
[Kigoma, Ujiji and Tabora]
Was it Coleridge who wrote:
[In a vision I once saw]
It was an Abyssinian maid
And on her dulcimer she played
Singing of Mount Abora? 159
It really doesn’t matter if it wasn’t or if it wasn’t what he said – for there is no
relevance about the quotation except possibly that this place is called Tabora. In other
words we are in the middle of Tanganyika territory, to the west, lake has succeeded a
view of a market place, and to the continuous wash of its waters, the continuous
murmur of those who do not wash enough. Two huge coconut palms, the first I have
seen on this trip, stand between the hotel and each end of the market. Arabs and
Hindus, whom we have scarcely seen from Capetown to Bukama, are the chief traders
for a community of about 60,000 natives and seventy-five Europeans.
In short, we are back into historical Africa, the Africa that was known to
Mahomadans before it was known to Europeans, the home of ivory and the slave
trade. Tabora itself is only 100 years old or so, but this is ancient indeed when
Bulawayo of thirty, Elisabethville of twelve, Bukama, Kabalo and Albertville of a few
years only, have been our recent stopping places.
We have not seen much of it yet, as after last night spent in a jolting train, a
crowded day yesterday at Kigoma, and the night before rolling on the lake, we felt
thoroughly weary; the remedy, a sleep in the daytime, left me with the far worse
sensation of all- over staleness and inertia which made a walk around the market
enough for the time being. Tea, though bad, followed by a cigarette (no, I have not
become a smoker) made life tolerable enough for me to read some of Burroughs on
walking tours and their invigoration, and then to try and comfort Kolo, who having no
wife, no camarade, only ‘boys’ speaking English Swahili instead of the Swahili of the
159
From Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
73
Belgian Congo, is miserable and longing for the train that takes him towards home on
Monday next. We too depart then in the other direction for Dar-es-Salaam.
[Kigoma]160
We had not known whether we should go straight on by the afternoon train to
Dar-es-Salaam, or stay a week at Kigoma to catch the next, or stay till a goods train
went down as far as Tabora, break our journey there, and then re-join the next mail
train to go to the port. We did none of these things. We had wirelessed to the Kigoma
Hotel for rooms but we did not go there. Thanks to Mrs [sic] Felix Mayer161
who
forcibly introduced his sister in law162
to us and made her get her husband give us a
letter of introduction to his brother. This very nice specimen of British Administrator
took us in his little car up to the palatial Kaiser hof, and introduced us to his wife. She
introduced us into a suite of rooms bald and bare, even mirror-less, but so un-
necessarily luxuriously clean, and left us with a bathroom on the floor of which one
could stand with bare feet.
We were then given food one did not contemplate sadly before eating and –
here comes the punch – asked when we were going on. If at once, the Commissioner
would forthwith, drive us out to Ujiji, the show spot because of Stanley’s finding of
Livingstone there in the seventies. Well, you can stay at an hotel or leave it, but you
can’t quarter yourself on British residents for a week. There turned out to be no goods
train, but a mixed train would leave on the following Sunday. Mrs Bagenal was going
on Safari with her husband in a fortnight and then they were leaving for England, she
for the Cape. Georgie, who was radiantly happy, turned to me and said I had better
decide and I really felt a brute to say resolutely, “we had better get on tonight to
Tabora”. I’d have loved to stay, but I felt it in my bones that it was too much to ask of
the relatives of a man we had never met and who are so placed that they must receive
their fellow countrymen at any time. They were kindness itself, but it was the right
thing to do, and we both knew it.
[Ujiji]
So we were driven out to Ujiji. It has been so long to me now, a name with a
location I often confused with that of places on the Victoria Nyanza that I hesitated
just now as I wrote it, thinking no - that’s to come; what was the name of that place.
Georgie, for the first time, forgot her cameras and I had only six films left. However,
we saw the historic meeting place under a now dilapidated mango tree which was then
on the shores of the lake, but now, owing to its subsidence since it overflowed into the
Lekiya river, is separated from it by some forty feet of land. It was too, the first native
town we had seen. Some crumbling white walls testified to the Arab slavers’
presence, just as the clean white washed Boma (fort) and police station testified to the
more recent German occupation. Since Kigoma was built however, Ujiji has declined
in importance for trade. It looked most peaceful. Its head man, a native wearing a fez,
was a jolly soul who followed respectfully, bearing all our money in our bags, and yet
160
Kigoma, on Lake Tanganyika, in the NW, is one of the busiest ports on the Lake enabling easy links
with Northern Rhodesia in the south, Congo in the west, and Burindi in the north of the Lake. The rail
from Dar es Salaam on the east coast goes through Tabora to Kigoma and was completed in 1915. 161
Felix Mayers – possibly a relative of the Kenyan Mayers, see FN 176 162
Mrs Stiebels of Tabora
74
its history has been far from peaceful, and even now witchcraft is the curse of its
inhabitants, and lions and leopards walk its streets by night.
We met there too, the administrative officer, one of the three under Mr
Bagenal and as he was on his way to another part of his District we had the good luck
to be accompanied by him (after we had all three lunched at the Bagenals), part of our
journey in the train to Tabora. Under his expert advice we looked out at the proper
intervals to catch a sudden and last glimpse of Tanganyika on our right163
– the old
caravan road, the old slave track in the hills. We got out too, late at night on to a
station called Uvinza164
where we could faintly see the line of a hill whence issues the
only salt spring known and worked in this part of Africa. Salt works are busy
precipitating it, but the interesting thing is that there is a theory that it was in search of
salt, so rare in Africa, that the whole Bantu race began its migrations. There is near-
by, another spring to be worked soon. It has not yet been looked at by Europeans and
the Sultan of the District cannot so much as see it. It is near the burial ground of his
ancestors, he could not touch salt from it, and a pile of stones on the path past it warns
him when to make a detour though the white man who may be with him, can of
course, keep straight on.
Mr Langlands told us many anecdotes of natives that reminded me of Judge
Murray’s 165
stories from Papua. One day he was writing in his office when two
natives entered, laid a club on his table, and waited. “Well, what is it?” he said. We
have killed our aunt”, they replied, “and come in as we were passing, to tell you”.
“That is a pity, we shall have to send you to prison for that”. “Yes, Bwana, (sir), “It
turned out after questioning that Auntie was a reputed witch and hated by the villagers
and her nephews were, according to their lights, accepting a family responsibility and
doing a virtuous deed in putting her out of the way. Mr Langlands sent the case to
higher powers but agreed with their decision to punish with imprisonment only.
Talking of punishments, the kindred question of atrocities we have elicited
that while in the Belgian Congo firms like the Railway company can whip for
offences, here only government can do so. A really disobedient native can be sent for
stripes; if given by his master and if he complains, the Master is punished, by fine I
fancy but am not sure. Mr Langlands can order six stripes on his own authority, or
twelve after he has asked permission from Mr Bagenal. Here prisoners are hardly ever
chained. Unluckily but for there[?] is hatred – quite unsentimental – of being
separated from their women, natives, by all accounts, rather like prison with its ample
food and companionship and Mr Langlands groans that things they really dislike
cannot be made effective against them. Ridicule for instance. “How I should love” he
reiterates, “to be able to put some of my fat old mischief-making women in the stocks
– or duck them on the ducking stool. The whole village would rejoice with me, but it
163
ie the Lake, because the rail goes south for a short distance before turning east 164
Salt is still being mined there 165
Australian Sir Hubert Murray (1861-1940), Administrator of Papua, 1908-1940. The connection
may have been his brother Gilbert, who was an ancient historian and a devoted ‘Hellenist”, also
foundation chair of the League of Nations (1923-38). Gilbert’s wife, Lady Mary, was the daughter of
the ninth Earl of Carlisle and a keen suffragette and temperance leader and who participated in the
League of Nations meetings – which makes for a strong connection to Jessie. However Gilbert lived in
England and Hubert in Sydney (when not in Papua) but as Melbourne was the capital city at the time to
where Murray reported Jessie may have had dinners with him when he came down south, and there
heard the Papuan stories
75
isn’t in the Indian penal code and can’t be done.” It sounds rather [non?] sense doesn’t
it? – as if it might suit the Africans’ stage of evolution without the barbarities that do
not now suit the white man’s?
Women among the natives here, according to both Mr Bagenal and his
subordinate, are a pretty powerful folk, but I, at least, did not learn much about them.
Marriages have often some affection but are largely a matter of bargain and it is the
women who clear out most. It is accepted that women carry loads – but they are not
very heavy; and get the wood, but it is poor stuff to be collected, not chopped, and
grind the meal. The children too belong to the father and a woman never says “They
are my children”, but merely “I bore them”. On the other hand, her lord hears of it if
he does not provide her with finery and if he strikes her, she is apt to depart for she
can get any amount of other husbands. If she does thus depart, leaving children, her
family will have to pay back portion only of her purchase money or cattle, as the case
may be. If there are no children, no matter how long she has been with the man, it has
all to be refunded. Mr van der Staaten, our Belgian Administrator on the other side of
the lake, talking of some similar arrangements among his clientele, mentioned that he
was trying to inculcate the idea that if a man had had her for a certain number of years
there should be a pro rata reduction of his refund.
This young man is apparently keen on proportion for he is busy too, teaching
his people the value of the fractions of a franc. It has been most instructive to see a
little of this change from barter to currency among the natives and the chances for
sharp dealing it gives the more intelligent, such as a Hindu. It throws light on the
economic chaos of early Greece for one thing.
To return to our government instructors. It was most amusing by the way, at
the van der Staatans’,166
when Madame horrified her husband (not by the facts but by
stating them to Englishwomen I think) with the remark that one of his chiefs used to
lend a visitor a woman whenever he stayed the night. “Do not say it”, he cries. “But it
is true”, said she artlessly, and I felt most gracious coming to the rescue with the
remark that this pleasing hospitality was practiced in the South Seas also. It seems that
in the District referred to by Mrs van der Staatan, the women were too valuable an
asset to be allowed out of the land. If a man married one and left the District, he had
to leave his wife as well. This is the only place, and is about forty miles north of
Kongola - of which I have heard any such festive scandal.
For the rest, native men and woman meet and talk freely, shake or really clasp
or touch hands in a rather tender but brief fashion, just as the men do among
themselves. Our friends at Kigoma laughed heartily at my idea that a native woman
had a bad time.
When the Belgians had possession here, the natives complain that it was “the
rule of women”, not that it was a soft rule, far from it, but because whenever a woman
brought an action (it is alleged), she won. Now tho, this Arcadian condition seems to
have passed, she declines to be down trodden and even rules the roost. But I suspect
old age is a serious proposition for them. It was for ‘Auntie’.
166
This is referring to their time in Albertville
76
Back in British territory again, we again hear of the anti-British feeling of the
Belgians, and of British dislike to the average individual Belgian. Of course the
Belgians operating from the west across Lake Tanganyika, both with white and native
soldiers, fought well in the war and either took or assisted in the taking of Tabora.
Under a mandate of the league of nations however, Britain gets the territory,
except a small richest part, Ruanda and Burindi. For eighteen months or so the
Belgians were in possession here and in Kigoma. Consequently there was bitterness
and tears – men wept openly – when the transfer had to be made. It is said that no
Belgian would lower the flag; a native corporal had to be made to do it. However this
may be, I read in a Belgian article in the African World this terse summary of the
chief events of 1921:
From the international point of view, the handing over to England of most of the
territories we had conquered in late German East Africa;
- From the inland point of view, the appointment of Maurice van Lippens as Governor
General of the Colony;
- From the industrial/mining point of view, the fact that radium can and will be
produced on an industrial basis from certain ores in Katanga;
- From the transport point of view, the unquestionable success of the Goldschmidt
amphibian boat that travels equally well on rivers and on land.
If the last two of these, together with the fact that in parts there is a wireless,
and in parts, an aeroplane service, indicate the ambition and the efforts of the Belgians
to develop their colony by the most up to date mechanical means possible, the first
indicates the friction there has been between the two nations, and the second perhaps,
the way in which it is being lessened. Van Lippens is, we hear, a very great admirer of
English methods. He is choosing a fine type of administration and is dismissing men
whom he deems unsuitable agents for his ideas of colonial government. Perhaps this
is why we hear from moderate people over here, that it is the people in lower positions
who are bitter about the mandate, and that the chiefs recognize not only that the
British cooperation made possible the Belgian defeats, but also that Belgium with her
six millions of people, has already her hands full in administering what she already
has. The mineral wealth I know from many sources is colossal. Mr Carle, whom
some of you will remember in Australia during the conscription campaign, had an
article on it in the Bulawayo Chronicle of Nov 26. 1921. In the case, neither of the
Congo, nor of Tanganyika Territory, is it a question of land for small farmers. Neither
is it a white man’s country in the sense that the white can oust the native and bring up
his children here. Also, had the territory been divided merely according to the position
of the victorious armies, the boundaries would have cut in the most hopeless fashion
through tribal territories.
There are counter claims too, of which I should, I suppose, blush to say, I
don’t yet know the truth – so that there were more British at the taking of Tabora than
Belgians. However, it may be the head people we have heard, both British and
Belgian, show no animosity to each other, tho’ the British regretfully acknowledge
77
that the Belgians when they had to evacuate, left every town and village in a most
filthy and careless condition. The young bloods are furious about it.
[Tabora]167
Here in Tabora the roads, good when the Germans had it, are still dilapidated.
The hotel, an old Arab house, is even more so. Its diseased plaster and crammed dust
gives me the creeps some times as we ascended by wooden steps that might lead to a
barn. Our room is bare, windowless, with doors and shutters on to balcony and
passage that makes one think of imprisoned women, intrigue and cruelty. Another is
full of cheap prints, torn carpets and rusty hangings that make one think of fleas. But
the man who keeps it, a Greek again, as at Kabalo and Albertville, is a dear chap as
the Bagenals told us, as we have found. He beamed to hear the Bagenals had spoken
of him, does all he can for us, gives us our meals in state, alone. Jess.
Tabora continued, fragment only, no date, written as part of a letter from Zanzibar
and including mention of Kigoma and Tabora (moved from Zanzibar letter to ensure
continuity)
… n the sights and explained the institutions of the places that had either. In
the Territory we were more social but almost as much instructed too. A letter secured
us by Mrs Mayers introduced us to Mr Bagenal at Kigoma – one of the eight
commissioners of that colony. Thru’ him we were handed on at Tabora to Mrs
Stiebels, wife of another but absent commissioner and were introduced without delay
into the life of the little British community of government officials there. I felt as if I
had slipped into an Anglo Indian novel. Also, as if, had I stayed there, I would have
acquired some imagination. One felt though, one could not hope to understand it, the
weight of native Arab and Hindu life at the back of this tiny group of golfing,
motoring, tennis playing, dining and administering English folk. Perhaps it was only
our hotel that gave me the jim jams.
[Dar-es-Salaam]
Torn fragment only. After Tabora they continued travelling east by train until they
arrived in Dar-e- Salaam on the coast. From there they caught a boat across to
Zanzibar island. This piece is written there and includes a little about Dar-es-Salaam
where they spent about twenty-seven hours. While in the Sudan she also mentions
visiting Robert Stobo at Tanga, the last port before Kenya (presumably a relative as
Stobo was a family name) but there is nothing here on Tanga. This seems to be part of
a letter to Thomas, date approx. 17 July.
... no building up from small, make-shift beginnings as with us – or else the
make-shift period must have been extraordinarily short. I couldn’t at first keep
thinking how terrible for the Germans to lose all this, but it is really more striking
after all, how much in mere money, to say nothing of life, we have spent to get it.
167
Tabora (Kezeh in Arab days), was the centre of the slave trade and a major trading centre between
the Congo River and the coast before Colonial rule. It is a junction on the Central railway, and at an
altitude of 1200 metres on the plateau. The town was also eventually linked north by rail with Mwansa
on Lake Victoria.
78
Dar-es-Salaam, like the rest of the world, has been having a bad time since the
war. So we hear is Kenya Colony. To be concrete, firms that have their headquarters
elsewhere are closing their branches, in their place the Mombasa Warehousing Co.,
for example, and she […] consult directions [... Mack and Co., and a Mr Bracebrook’s
firm, both established here in Zanzibar.
We had the vaguest idea of what Dar-es-Salaam would be like. I expected to
get a shampoo and – shut your eyes here Thomas, a pair of corsets. But we found no
European shops at all. Hindus, Goanese with Portuguese names such as de Silva, are
the nearest contribution but grocers and stationers seem to be their main contribution
to the needs of the whites. There were [...] but […] in plenty at Tabora [… …] has
[… …] only - but there was a comfortable hotel kept by a despondent Britisher (S.
African) who thinks this territory will be handed back to the Germans. However,
arriving one morning at eight, we left the next between eleven and noon for there was
a big […] Castle boat coming across168
. Georgie paid ten […], five each for five hours
on her!!
[Zanzibar]
Here in Zanzibar we have no member of the Comité Special to instruct us, tho
we have caught a glimpse of the ‘Anglo-Indian’ life here by being taken by a
rickshaw to look on at a polo match, we have no Mrs Stiebels to commandeer for us
the attention of her friends. We are, in short, mere tourists again and feel we are
missing much knowledge, though gaining much freedom. We drive, we watch, we
read bits of the guide book and bits of Major Pearce’s “Zanzibar, the island
metropolis”169
and – we spend money. Georgie – but that is her story. At all events, I
walk in reflected glory, greeted by Hindu shop keepers with the respect due to one
who may expedite or - divert the favours of the great. Incidentally, I have kept my
own head and remembered on the whole that I have far to go, little to go with and not
much to put anything I buy in. Even so my purse has suffered assault and has had to
pay off the besiegers. Sigh sentimentally, say “Ah, Louis!” and you will have both
expressed my feelings and determined the cause of my undoing. It is a Chinese firm
which has the sign A. H. Louis and Georgie is probably right in her suggestion that
this is Englished from an original Ah Louey. He, the representative I encountered, is
several inches shorter than I am, bow windowed, and has tiny white hands with the
nail of the thumb and the little finger about half an inch long. The goods are
reasonable – and not reducible by any effort of the client as luckily I guessed and did
not attempt to do it. I purchased a lovely little bit of worked ivory after much
cogitation. It was handed me wrapped up in most inferior brown paper.
Then I saw some tiny Chinese figures, bought those and being on a higher
shelf demanded to see two very dusty figures. …said Ah Louis ‘too dear – look, but
not buy’! I looked, received a dissertation on Chinese pottery, and fell. For when
dusted the ornaments were of the most gorgeous blue, they were fifty or sixty years
old, the minerals in the clay was beginning to appear on the surface. They represented
a holy man first eagerly recording a bead, a stage in his devotions, and second,
sleeping with a completed rosary on his knee. The purchase took ten minutes and I
168
ie from Zanzibar to Dar es Salaam 169
Francis Barrow Pearce, 1920
79
was an hour and a half in the shop that day and nearly along the next, for no ancient
mariner had ever a greater determination to impart accurate information than that
small Chinaman. Unluckily, as he described to me the religious devotions depicted in
my pottery, I said helpfully, ‘Yes they are monks’! He nearly wept. No, they are not
monks, there are three religious …
Fragment only
There is a special Hindu quarter and beyond is a native quarter and they all
seem to me very mixed. The absence of mosques struck me as strange, as it would
have been – but Mohammadism here is not high church and the mosques are not
specially distinguished to the eye, at least of a foreigner. We are in the Arab part, the
hotel, as at Tabora, being an old Arab house and in a street behind us is the house of
Tipper Tib, the slave trader of Livingstone’s days. A Mr Glazebrook and his partner
(of the East African Agency) have a twenty years lease of it for their offices and
dwelling. Nearly all the better houses have the most admirably carved doors – even
some hovels have them. When Europeans occupy the houses these doors are kept
oiled and really do repay the owners for their servants’ trouble. We saw a beautiful
specimen in Tabora - the door of Stanley’s and Livingstone’s house there, bought by
the Stiebels and now under offer to the New York Herald for £1000.
This city is not large. Quite soon the main street ends in a leafy avenue. Sports
grounds, gardens, the houses of rich Indians … coconut and small orange plantations
succeed in some directions and in others, the clove. The fragrance is delicious and
over all, town and country alike of course, a blue sky that I for one enjoy, all the more
because it is often cloudy. We have been under cloudless or virtually cloudless skies
so long that a billowy cumulus is welcome as the shades of a rock in a thirsty land.
You will know from my previous letters or else from Georgie’s general letter
to the Catalysts, that in the Belgian Congo we were in some ways treated as if we
were the guests of the government and were systematically, not to say resolute
…………
80
81
Map 6. Kenya route
82
KENYA
These letters are mostly about Kenya and were written soon after arrival in
Uganda. There is nothing about the trip from Mombasa on the coast inland to Nairobi
(although that is briefly referred to later while on the Nile) or what they did there and
only scattered references to where they travelled in-country. Their travels appear to
have included, after going through Mombasa, Nairobi, Meru to the north-east of
Nairobi and Nakuru to the north-west, which was also on the route to Kisumu from
where they caught the boat across Lake Victoria. Jessie mentioned while in South
Africa “And I don’t think there can be much officialdom again till we reach Nairobi
in August”, indicating that they were planning to meet professional colleagues in
Nairobi.
Caz[?], Flo, Jenny, / if back, Jean Wilkinson, Ethel Bage (all scored through) and
Effie
Have written separately to Connie
[On hotel letterhead paper]
Imperial Hotel
PO Box 88 Kampala
Uganda
[Sunday] 27 Aug. 1922
Dear All of you, We have reached another landmark in our journey of many
climaxes and new departures, and though we shall be hereabouts for over a month,
Kampala is virtually the jumping off ground for the more uncomfortable part of our
journey, the connection between Uganda and the Egyptian Sudan.
We arrived here on Friday; today is Sunday; we have just renewed out
acquaintance with the Nelsons whom we met on the boat and [of sic] whom the
youthful housefather is an ADC (Assistant District Commissioner) and, incidentally,
for some month before the war, a student of Georgie’s. Like Mr Whitworth at Nairobi,
he is willing to put all in her way that he can – in the prayer book sense, to prevent us
in all our doings; and as an audience with the King of the Baganda, or more likely,
with his minister, the sight of a gathering of chiefs and a glimpse of crowds of natives
assembled to say farewell to Sir Robert Coryndon170
when he departs to Kenya, are
included in our programme for the next few days, I had better hurry up to bring my
letters up to date before I find the last lot of events obliterated in memory by the new.
170 Sir Robert Coryndon (1870 - 1925) was a British colonial administrator and a former secretary of
Cecil Rhodes. He became Governor of the colonies of Uganda (1918–1922) and Kenya (1922-1925).
He was one of the most powerful of colonial administrators of his day.
83
Illus. 19. Advertisement for Imperial Hotel, Kampala171
Georgie also is toiling at a home letter and it is amusing to notice the different
items on which she appeals to me for corroboration of some statement she is making.
Just now, it was whether the Captain of the Clement Hill had said the Victoria Nyanza
was rising or falling: last time it was the name of a swamp near which – tho’ we
didn’t see it – we had had lunch on our tour round Kenya. I had written at great length
on that topic without ever thinking of the swamp and greatly fear I would have
neglected to record either for you or for myself the captain’s words of wisdom about
the lake. Now however, if I can find out the truth, you shall share it, do not fear.
By the way, our letters are a subject of more or less gentle friction between
Georgie and myself. She cannot think why I occasionally write to the lot of you the
same diary letter that goes ultimately to my family to be kept for me in case I want to
know what I did on 27th
Aug. 1922. It is in vain that I explain that I know you all
pretty well, or that but few soul-revelations or even pieces of information, are
contained in my epistles. She comes every time to the conclusion that “it is force of
circumstances”.
On the other hand, while I laugh at her sometimes for her desire for facts, I
rather envy her when later on she will consult her home letters. They are much more
real diaries than mine, and facts recorded when no special interest attaches to them,
are often the keystone of one’s memorial arch, so to speak. So who knows what I may
not lose some day of emolument or respect by not knowing the name of the swamp on
our little “safari’. I have almost the desire to write or wire to Mr Whitworth, “kindly
advise immediately name of swamp near which urgently needed food was
administered to Sweet and Webb Aug, 7 1922.”
171
From Tabor, p. 268, nd or source
84
Instead I know I shall send him an answer to a question of his in a letter to
Georgie “Hasn’t Miss Webb got a jigger 172
yet?” The reply is:
‘No Mr Whitworth No
Jiggerless I go
But Dr Sweet has had two on her feet
And one in her second toe!”
All of this is literally true, no licence anywhere, but I’ll never get a job because of
impeccable truthfulness. However, diary letter, or [denir?]… letter diary, neither of
‘em gets an answer from anybody. What’s the odds?173
Illus. 20. Mr Whitworth’s hut at Meru. (JW)
[After Nairobi]
We left Nairobi on the fifteenth of this month174
and since then, up to the 25th
,
we have been in private houses. First, with Colonel and Mrs Weir whom we met
through Stewart Webb175
, next with a friend of theirs, and then back to the Weirs.
Next thro’ a letter from Georgie’s lawyer, we stayed with the Mayers176
at Bungu177
(Queensland folk) who have begun a sugar plantation there, not far from Victoria
Nyanza and have also built the first sugar mill in Kenya Colony. Thence by rail to
Kisumu and boat to Entebbe we came from Kenya to Uganda.
172
Jigger, the Chigoe flea, Tunga penetrans which lives in sand/soil and latches onto bare feet, usually
the toes, burrows in, lays its eggs and causes intense irritations and infection 173
There were obviously problems with mail getting through from Australia at this point 174
ie August 175
Possibly her paternal cousin Stewart Donald Webb (1899-1986) 176
George Russel Mayers (1864-1930) was born in England, came to Australia aged 20 and became a
leading sugar cane farmer at Babinda, just south of Cairns, He was Chair of the Cairns Shire Council
from 1912-1918. He and his wife Louisa Elizabeth Penelope and family moved to Miwani near Kisimu
in Kenya and started “the Victoria Nyanza Sugar Company, a most successful concern”. Other
members of the Mayers family, including adult children Cyril and Eric and their families joined him in
Kenya. Marston Mayers wrote “Life and Adventures of George Russell Mayers”, c 1932, reviewed in
the Townsville Daily Bulletin, 31 Aug 1932. Georgie’s lawyer may have been involved in the company
Mayers established, and which had its board meetings in Melbourne. 177
Possibly the name of the property, spelling unclear, no such place on old maps
85
At Entebbe a friend of Professor Woodruff’s178
is […] Chief Veterinary
Officer [...] and though he was unluckily away. Georgie waited for ours going the
opposite way - his wife treated us most royally, kept us four nights instead of the one
we had arranged for and professed to enjoy having us in her husband’s absence. This
however, was in Uganda; I must try to copy Georgie and keep to my order. But you
see, in one way or another in Kenya, we caught a glimpse at least, of various sorts and
conditions of men and homes, and short though our time was there, I find on looking
back, that we came in contact with several of the types and a few of the interests that
are recognized as typical of the country.
I’ve already spoken of the official element that is getting retrenched and often
rather dispirited. In addition to economizing which may be necessary, there seems to
be a curious habit of moving officials rapidly from one district to another. The DCs
and ADCs (Assistant District Commissioners) we have met seem to be taking a keen,
even paternal interest in their natives and to desire to do their level best for them. Yet
after six months or so, just when the tribe or tribes are beginning to know the white
man who for them is the government, off he is sent. I think I mentioned before that
one said to us: learn the language of your natives, or make a garden, or spend a bit of
your own money on your house and you’re sure to be moved. Sometimes it is because
someone else has gone on leave and new arrangements have to be made, but oftener,
we are assured, there is no ascertainable reason, and no thought is expended on the
question who should go to which place. Thus a Mr Franklin at Voi, who liked being
alone there, was being superseded, not as punishment or anything - by Mr Roberts and
his wife who loathed the thought of the place. Even big-wigs, except the Secretariat
people who arrange these matters, find them entirely incomprehensible.
Then too we have met the people who, having always walked delicately and
considered what most of us would think fine style the merest decency, suddenly find
themselves in ‘reduced circumstances’- pensioned perhaps after service in India. To
live as they assume necessary in England is beyond their purse. In Kenya they can
command plenty of labour, play polo and so on, and if only they don’t live in a town
like Nairobi, they can do it, for them, very cheaply. On our tour round the mountain179
we lunched with some people of this type and very nice they were too. Their genteel
poverty amused me hugely. To me it would have been wealth. In this particular
instance, the people were booky, which is rare here, and it required all my manners,
inherited and acquired, to keep from sitting down on their Persian rugs and trying to
devour three magazines and four books at once. There are quite a number of these
retired folk in Kenya. I reckon they keep their farms and not their farms them.
Quite another sort of farmer is the young settler, often an ex-soldier, who has
come out during or just after the war and taken up the land allotted to him, often at a
high price. Some of these men have had a terribly hard time. It was thought for
instance, that fortunes were to be made out of hemp: acres of sisal were planted and
then the market changed, the war ending so suddenly being part of the cause. One of
these men told me that he and his wife had lived on posho (ground mealie, native’s
food) for months and months. They were still dwelling in a wattle and daub hut of
three rooms when we were there and yet, such is the difference of conditions in
178
Harold Woodruff (1877- 1966), Prof. of Pathology, 1913-29, Prof. of Bacteriology 1935-45, MU. 179
Probably Mt Kenya, at 5,199 mt it is the second highest mountain in Africa, and 93 km from
Nairobi, and near Meru, where they apparently met Mr Whitworth (see illus. 22).
86
Africa, even though this pair was still struggling, they could gives us meals as
elaborate as any I ever get in Melbourne, save at dinner parties. That is to say, they
can have servants. They are cheap as their food costs practically nothing and their
wages are about £2 a month. And time is of no object to them. Dinner of many
courses beginning at 8pm does not distress them in the least. Often they are lazy, yet
they don’t seem to mind working hard or late, provided they can sit a great deal in the
sun during the day, and talk or shout when anyone else works with them.
Also, however poor you maybe, it is easy to get your hot bath at any time.
Most folk have it about 7pm and dress for dinner. No wonder Mrs Mayers, whose
husband is the enterprising sugar man from Queensland, told me that life in Kenya
was like heaven for her. They had long been very rich, but in Queensland, whether or
no, she had often had to turn to and wash and cook and act housemaid for a houseful
of men. Here, when a thing wants doing, one shouts ‘Boy’. This may seem too rosy a
picture. But tho’ the native requires lots of supervision and some mistresses get
indignant with him for that, a capable and equable woman can, even on a small
income, entertain and have a house running smoothly with very little personal
exertion and a great deal of leisure for herself.
This Mrs Mayers has unintentionally chastened my proud spirit. I had been
much gratified by the fact that people do not place me as an Australian by my accent,
and even comment when they know we come from Melbourne, on my lack of our
particular brand of idiom and pronunciation. Sometimes, when the complimenter has
had an almost equally ugly provincialism of his or her own, I have felt amused; still I
was proud. But Mrs Mayers has cured me. The awful thought arises that perhaps I
speak as she does. She is so resolutely cultured in her speech, the poor old twang has
been so double locked in its skeleton cupboard that her a’s are as sharp as the French é
and she intones her sentences to prevent any drawl being vulgar or even ungenteel.
We both felt enraptured once when she lapsed and remarked that she had done so and
so for déze and déze and déze. But the little upward lilt at the end of every sentence I
cannot reproduce. Give me the good old Australian accent every time!
This lady was very kind indeed to us and was rather an interesting type as
well. Throughout her career she has resolutely clung to shirt blouses and high collars.
She looks most smart and tailor-made in them too, and when she sports evening
clothes there is none of that red iron-mark on the neck that afflicts us nearly all. She
looks about thirty-eight or forty, is erect and slight, and had ten children in twelve
years. She confided in me that she often wept at the prospect. I’d have looked out for
something more drastic I fancy, even if my accent had suffered neglect for the time
being, but I did not think I could be Oxonian enough to say so genteelly. By the way,
Elizabeth180
is not to read this bit, I know she won’t agree with me.
Mr Mayers has really done a rather wonderful thing in erecting the first sugar
mill in Kenya. His company is an Australian one throughout: he had to get all his
material with great difficulty of transport. He went down into Tanganyika territory
and brought up rails laid down by the Germans during the war – shipped them in Arab
dhows – tried to get up the coast more himself - … was wrecked – or nearly so on a
180
Probably Elizabeth Lothian (1871-1973), Classical Mistress at Melbourne Church of England Girls’
Grammar School (1914-46) and founding member of the Catalysts and the Lyceum Clubs (Ridley, p.
71). She was part of Jessie’s group of friends and they travelled together in Greece in 1923
87
reef – was slipped sic up by a captain of a ship he was to try and catch and had to
return by the dhow (in which he had gone out to meet him) at an unearthly hour of the
night and start a walk of some hundreds of miles.
Naturally, he is rather a belligerent little man, but his energy has already
heartened up other people who had thought the progressive days of Kenya were over.
One man, after seeing the mill, went home and planted twenty acres of maize because
he felt things were looking up! The Masters and Misses Mayers however, do not all
regard papa’s activities with approval. One young man threatens to return to his pals
in Australia even if he only gets £1 a week on a station181
. The girls go off on trips
every few months and started on one just before Mama came back from England.
‘Judge not, that ye be not judged’ but it does seem as if Mr and Mrs M had gone in
more for quantity than quality – yet the boys we saw were nice boys after-all. Perhaps
they are merely foolish enough to miss their friends and not to recognize that money
is everything - money and a cultured accent. Perhaps they’d like to be able to say to
their former companions “Come roe nd one of these deze”. It’s certainly lonely; their
huts and ‘bandas’ compose the whole settlement.
Fragment only
Nakuru, where we stayed with the Weirs, is one of many farming districts in
the Great Rift Valley. We crossed its eastern escarpment going there and then, on our
way to the Mayers, climbed up the Western wall and then down again towards the
great lake. The valley has many extinct volcanoes and one can look down on to,
almost into, craters from the train. The scenery is often very, very pretty, but not as
impressive as one would expect – the soil is soft and has weathered so much that
sharp, bold outlines are rarely seen and the walls of the valley are smoothed almost
level with the plain in many places. Victoria Nyanza too, is not startling at all. On the
journey from Nairobi we had passed several lakes and at the Weirs we were almost on
Lake Nakuru. So our first glimpse of Lake Victoria looked very like the others. Only
if you sail round it do you realise its immensity and that, I have no intention of doing,
as it can get extremely, indeed unnecessarily, rough, even making its Captains seasick
we hear. Georgie I hope, will go round it, I hope – in fact I think I have persuaded her
to do so, and not wait till that future visit to Africa which she is already promising
herself. The lake behaved admirably however for the twenty-four hours in which we
crossed from Kisumu to Entebe. I think I will try my hand at a little map of the
remainder of this space and then bid you a fond farewell.
Illus. 21. Sketch map of region (JW)
181
Station – presumable a cattle property, known as ‘stations’ in outback Australia
88
89
Map 7. Uganda route
90
UGANDA
Covering the period 21 Aug- 25 Sept., including time spent at Entebbe,
Kampala and Fort Portal and then travelling by boat to Jinja. The continuation of the
Uganda report appears in the Diary record, which follows after the end of the letters.
Kenya Colony, Bungu. On a Sugar plantation not
19th
Aug 1922 far from Uganda Railway
[but then place and date changes to:]
Uganda - 2nd
Sept.
Dear Beth, Minnie, Effie,182
Having got so far, it seems I suddenly thought of my wrongs because I had
then heard nothing from anyone since May so I stopped. Now the address is Kampala,
Uganda and the date 2nd
Sept.
I had better begin again, Dear all of you, including Thomas, and if she is
home, Flos Greig. (Effie to keep it for me)
We reached Entebbe, our entrance to Uganda, on 21st August, after an
extremely pleasant trip of about twenty-two hours on the Clement Hill from Kisumu.
Pleasant, that is, physically. The lake was calm, as it often is not, the boat was clean,
we had a beautiful deck cabin and, for the only time in my life, I enjoyed three meals
on a ship. But our spirits were rather damped by the very nice Captain Blanco and a
very disagreeable fellow passenger, Mr Gosling, Chief Treasurer of Kenya, who was
bringing on, or at all events, accompanying £100,000 from Kenya into this country.
He was ugly, he was fat. He had pursed up under-lids and […] peered at us over them.
Unlike in everything else, he and the Captain agreed in positively scouting the
idea of our continuing our route into Egypt via the Soudan. It was unhealthy, it was
uninteresting, it was cruelly hot, it was the worst part of Africa, the natives were the
… weeds, they were unreliable, women shouldn’t go alone. Moreover the Nile was
sinking, there was no hope of us getting thro’ by the Samuel Baker from Butiaba to
Nimule; from Wadelai where apparently the Nile widens out into shallows, we should
have to go in rowing boats among crocodiles. 183
You will observe the alternative – to turn on our steps after seeing Uganda,
and then, after a long journey through Kenya to Mombasa, embarking there on
steamer, when we could get one, and proceeding to Port Soudan, one of the most
hopeless spots in Africa. Thence we could travel on to Khartoum and so on down the
Nile.
182
Probably her relatives - cousins Beth, being Elizabeth Fulton (married Maconochie) and Minnie
Fulton. Effie was perhaps Josephine Watson (m W Scott), her aunt who was only 12 years older than
Jessie – or else Effie Stillwell 183
By staying longer in Uganda they did manage to sail through this swampy area
91
Soon after we arrived at Entebbe we were able to telephone Mr Nelson at
Kampala. He consulted various people who knew the district. There is nothing
appalling to be feared at all. It is uncomfortable and some risk – as in most places, of
fever: that is all. By waiting a month, which alas, will cut that time off of Egypt, we
can make better arrangements and perhaps escape a little heat. So we leave Jinja on
the 4th
October and if we don’t miss any connections, will be at Khartoum early in
November. If I feel financial I may cable but in any case you will hear from
Georgie’s Miss Wasley184
how we have fared long before this letter will have arrived
to cause you any anxiety. Our stages are:
І. Jinja to Namasagali: by rail
Π. Namasgali by steamer to Masindi
Ш. Masindi port for 39 miles by motor van
ІV. 8 mile walk over sand by our own effort or carried
Butiaba to …………………………………………………. Nimule carrier (3 days)
Nimule to Rejaf by porters and carriers 7-10 days journey
… we are carried on chairs, camp early as possible at rest houses and where our own
cook and houseboy get us meals and baths when we camp from, say, 10am till 5am
next morning
………..
………..Wadelai to Rejaf 11-13 days with about 35 porters and carriers, all told we
should make an impressive party. 185
One of the three men I referred to is to be, if possible, an ex-sergeant of the
K.A.R. - Kings African Rifles. He’s for swank and to make the porters get up in good
time. Well, well, we shall see what we shall see and at least we will have, I presume,
the satisfaction of having said boo to Mr Gosling.
[Entebbe]
In spite of Herculian efforts to the contrary, I seem incapable of beginning at
the beginning. Here I have even begun at the future, but now return to Entebbe.
It is a park-like place, this miniature capital of Uganda. There is a native or
Indian bazaar, I don’t know which, as I haven’t seen it, but the houses of government
officials are dotted about on green sward under large trees, often immense trees and
often gums. Often, as in the case of the Anglican Church, there is not even a hedge
between one building or another, but the spaces are large and the occasional hedges
afford some privacy. Bougainvillea grows in profusion. Now and again there is an
hibiscus. All about here is English and yet tropical.
The banker and his wife are the only heads of families not connected with the
government services – even the nurses and the doctors are civil servants, and Mr
Montgomery, with whose wife we stayed, is the veterinary advisor to Uganda,
Zanzibar and Tanganyika territory. Naturally, he is on ‘Safari’ a great deal. He was
away during our visit, taking with him the two principal house boys, one of whom,
184
Miss Wasley –perhaps an Australian Methodist missionary 185
This is a rough description and not exactly what happened or a correct description. Refer to her
report of that leg of the journey for correct description.
92
being Mohammedan, would be more useful to him in Zanzibar. Even so, with
depleted staff, Mrs Montgomery was able to treat us royally, having little dinner
parties for us, or to be more exact, for Georgie, nearly every night we were there
(three out of four). Sydney people; the Winters, came one night - he is a geologist.
The Banker and his wife (National Bank of India) came one night. They are as
Scotch as Scotch. She had a Scottish passion, like Miss Corbetts, for dress. She asked
me, in an anxious aside, if I could resist silks. I lied valiantly and said I could not and
I then heard the joys of life in Aden, where, at an Indian shop, silks of particular glory
could be purchased. All the men and women present hung on our [her?] words for the
lady, though fat, was young and had the knack of making her cheerful little
contributions to the discourse quite compelling. Her husband, even, has not got over
amusement at her. He does not like Entebbe; there is so little business there, so I said
I’d give him something to do the next day and I did.
Mrs Montgomery has three children, Bobbie aged seven, Tom186
and Mich
aged five. After we had been there a few hours, Tim, appros of nothing, announced in
a loud voice, that he liked me better than he did Miss Sweet, and while his mother and
I tried to cover this rather crude declaration, Bobbie constituted himself a herald to
Georgie to call her attention to it. She, poor thing, was not greatly harrowed as she
was suffering from an abscess that nagged all day and raged all night, but I was rather
gratified, not at his preference, but at his fancy for me. This spiritual affection was
followed – I wish to stress the order – by a cupboard love. He discovered some coins
in my bag and coveted them. So at Mr Gray’s next door I changed a florin into cents
(200) and with these, established a reputation for colossal wealth. Tim would hurl
himself onto me. ‘Miss Webb, will you give me 100 rupees?’ (ie florins, £10). ‘Tim I
will not!’ ‘Then will you give me two cents?’ I did. With 100 of them to the shilling, I
could scatter largesse in feudal style, and wish I could as easily beat down other
applicants for my money, vendors of native basket-ware, matting and drums for
instance. By the way Tom, the Bank of India has a branch at Kampala as well as at
Entebbe, which is the only place in Uganda mentioned in my letter of Introduction.
The Governor of Uganda, Sir Robert Coryndon187
, has just been promoted to
be Governor of Kenya, so, though he is a great friend of the Montgomery’s, we did
not meet him but we met the man and his wife, Mr and Mrs Elliot, who are to act in
the interval til his successor arrives. They had both been in Australia with the Munro
Fergusons188
, also in British Guiana - he had - and other places. So he was interesting
to talk to – but oh, how I should hate a woman’s life here in the tropics. Except the
nurse (an Australian, like the one at Tabora) and Miss Martin, a brilliant woman
experimenting on monkeys etc for sleeping sickness, they have nothing to do but visit,
rest in the afternoon, play games from four-six, wander into the club, play bridge till
[…] late dinner and then to bed. If they have any brains and patience, their servants,
who are numerous, soon do everything by clockwork, but it seems difficult indeed. I
think most find it impossible to do anything with their leisure. The climate is beautiful
but is somehow dangerous to children who grow up delicate and pasty-faced unless
sent away to cold climates between five and ten. Also, one soon becomes lazy, and
186
She initially refers to him as ‘Tom’, then reverts to ‘Tim’ 187
Sir Robert Coryndon, see FN 170 188
Sir Ronald Munro Ferguson (1860-1934), controversial Governor General of Australia 1914-20, and
recognized for his contribution to forestry, science and the beautification of Melbourne.
93
calls ‘Boy’, for any blessed thing one wants. Many people say too, that people’s
tempers deteriorate here. It may be liver – it may be having an inferior race to lord it
over. Luckily here in the Baganda part of Uganda there are distinct limits to this – as
the Baganda are easily the most talented race in British East Africa – the most talented
I have seen anywhere. I have realized that during the last few days at Kampala.
[Kampala]
Kampala is so called from one of its hills, Mpala, on which Captain Lugard
explored in 1890. Mpala is a Luganda word for certain antelope which used to be kept
on this hill. As a matter of fact the town-ship is now scattered over seven hills, or so I
am told. The hotel is built on the slopes of one, facing up it on to the golf club, which
makes a very pretty green skyline, especially after four when the players are on it.
On another hill is the Kabaka’s house, the court of justice, treasury etc all run
entirely, or almost entirely, by the natives. On another, Mtesa’s tomb and the house of
the women who guard and keep up the rites and so on. As one comes by road from
Entebbe (we came in a motor van), one’s first glimpse of Kampala is of two peaks
that look high like the mountains on the Italian lakes, and like them again, they seem
to be crowned with buildings. One had a dome, one a castle. As a matter of fact, one
of them is a new RC mission, yet in the building and the other with the Dome,
belongs to a rival Church Missionary Society. Rivalry here has led to actual warfare in
the past, and the present Kabaka (King) was appointed because a much more
intelligent candidate was an RC189
and the C.M.S190
had special influence at the time.
There is, by the way, no association of disloyalty with Catholicism here. The
discarded Prince Joseph, was and is, ardently pro-British. My informant is an
Australian ADC. “God’s own country” is well represented in Africa, the attraction,
whether to minister it, convert it or exploit it, is in nine cases out of ten, the Native.
When one gets into the commercial European part, one is most struck by the
fact that most of the buildings are two storeyed. Railway Stations in Tanganyika
territory were often so, but private houses there, and actually all buildings except
hotels in Kenya, are of the bungalow type.
As Georgie can’t walk up hills and there are, of course, no trams, we wander
about in double rickshaws, two natives to push and one to pull with the same strange
desire for a maximum of effort that one notices in them sometimes – as for instance,
when they carry things on the palms of the hands, held upwards – the natives elect to
sing or chant when going up hill. The man in front starts a running fire of questions,
relating, we’re told, to the journey and, in uncomplimentary terms, to his freight. “Are
we to take these heavy old frumps to Mtesa’s tomb?” for example. He does not pause
for an answer but the rear men interject monotonously “he’ rene, he’ rene” till the
front man is out of breath and the anthem ceases abruptly.
Our chief expeditions have been to Mtesa’s tomb and to the offices of the
native government. Mtesa was King of the Baganda when Speke in 1860 and Stanley
in 1875 came to the country. Why there are no tombs to visit of preceding Kings I do
189
RC – Roman Catholic 190
Church Missionary Society
94
not know, but this is sufficient by itself to show that the Baganda are a superior
people. You enter through a very fine native-hut into a courtyard. This leads into
another round [in] which are other beautiful huts of royal widows and female
relatives, while facing one, just opposite the entrance, is a really magnificent
specimen of native architecture erected over Mtesa’s grave. The roof is thatched down
to the ground very beautifully on all sides but the front. Its front is supported firmly
on rafters made of bundles of reeds bound together. The ceiling is of fine matting. The
roof is so high it has to have a lightning conductor and the hut is huge. Just how
large, it is hard to estimate because it is divided into aisles by the rows of polished
saplings which support the length of the roof.
Straw is on the floor and to the right of the grave is a fire which smoulders.
How the whole place is not all on fire I can explain only by the constant presence of
guardians. The grave is covered with a reddish piece of cloth and in front of it, is an
array of leaf shaped copper spears and small polished clubs. So, on entering, you
seem, but for the straw on the floor, to be entering a Cathedral and looking towards an
altar – the spears with the raised tomb behind them. On the left is another grave, that
of Mtesa’s ruffianly son Mwanga, the father of the present Kabaka191
. In various
corners are ceremonial drums.
As one grew used to the light, one saw there were numbers of women and
children sitting about, contemplating or praying, or, most probably, doing nothing.
One rose and came out after us, a most lordly creature. She was tall and elegant, and
had the graceful carriage of the native and the features, rounded rather than blunt, of a
handsome boy. Black of course, with short hair and liquid eyes, she was swathed in
cerise satin from below the shoulders to the ankles. It was rolled some just above the
knees. Two children came to her with something and knelt to give it – but as far as we
can gather, she was no one in particular. Whatever her ancestory, she was a
Maconachie192
in dress all right.
Through some mistake, a display of drummers which Mr Nelson had arranged
for, did not come off, so from the tomb we went over to the house of a Baganda
princess, the sister of either Mtesa or Mwanga, I forget which. It is hard to guess the
ages of natives. This one looked old but may have been a girl when Mtesa died in
1884. The mud hut was spacious compared to the tiny ones of the south and was
divided into rooms. The floor was covered into fine matting which I coveted for The
Flat, and the lady crouched with an attendant on a red mattress at one end of her front
room. Chairs were evolved for us from somewhere out side.
A native, Léo, very shy and deferential, from Mr Nelson’s office, acted as
interpreter. He explained that out of respect he spoke at first to the princess’s maid,
not to her, and also addressed the princess when she questioned him, as Sir, as if she
were a man. The old lady bade him tell us she was pleased to see us – that she got 100
rupees a month from the Kabaka (£10), that she had never married because only
single women could attend the King’s tomb and she had remained unwed for her late
brother’s sake. To remain unmarried to keep house for one’s brother always seemed
dull to me before, but it’s a reckless orgy compared with doing so to tomb-keep for
191
Kabaka – Baganda King 192
Jessie’s maternal cousin Elizabeth (Beth) Fulton married a Maconachie.
95
him, I should imagine. There was nothing whatever in the room but the floor
coverings – nothing. We supposed they just eat and talk all day, for the princess can’t
walk now. Native women age very young. Mr Nelson asked her to accept the present
of a rupee. She did so, but indicated, I believe, that more would have been seemlier.
So it would. But for sheer talent, vacuity and dullness, can you imagine a drearier way
of living on £10 a month?
The day after this visit (ie Saturday 2nd
September) we saw the cheerier picture
of masculine royalty at work, and masculine subject at play.
In the morning, Georgie and I by rickshaw, and Léo on his bicycle, went up to
where the native government had its headquarters. Uganda is a protectorate, and this
part of it, now called the Province of Buganda, having never actually been conquered
by us, is protected by a special treaty. In the other provinces the British can do much
they cannot do here; here they have to work indirectly. I don’t mean craftily – to
induce the Kabaka and his Ministers and his Parliament of notables to do what our
government thinks best.
When Speke and Stanley came here they were much impressed by the superior
civilization of the Baganda (by the way, ganda is the essential part of the three names
people use for themselves and their country – Buganda to the place (Uganda is the
Swahili for it), lu ganda is their language, Muganda is the Swahili member of the
tribe, and Baganda is the plural). The form Uganda is now used of the whole
protectorate in which there are many other but less important tribes and Buganda is
the name of the province. There, isn’t that informative? Georgie herself couldn’t have
done better – only she would have added the height above sea level of the place and
the average mean height of the inhabitants.
I am anxious now to read their first-hand accounts and see how much we have
added. Anyhow, everyone seems agreed that Europeans have had to stimulate only
and not introduce wholesale, a brand new civilization. What we saw on Saturday was
amazing and simply could not have been acquired by ordinary South and South
Eastern natives since 1890. We were received at various stages of the morning by the
Chief Justice, Chief Treasurer and Prime Minister (in order of their appearance). We
saw too, the Kabaka’s cousin, Prince Joseph, whose religion debarred him from the
throne. He is now head of the native labour bureau, where men are enrolled to work
on the roads, get their exemptions, and I think, pay their taxes [in] lieu of services. He
is a handsome native with intelligent eyes, and more aristocratic features than the rank
and file: he was greatly gratified when we praised the roads. He wore ordinary
European dress – I think – as a matter of fact I am afraid I forgot to notice his legs.
Many of them ie the natives, are European to the waist and then on their feet – boots
are a sort of indication of superiority. Headmasters always have them, the rest going
barefooted. But plenty of the high clan folk wear their kanzu under their coat and over
their trousers, and look like women in old fashioned coats and shirts. However, in
case you’re really anxious about it, I think I may say HRH193
, who has left a slender
and dark impression on my mind, was tailored throughout.
193
His Royal Highness
96
The Chief Justice, who looks pure negro, had on a kanzu (night gown) with a
clock (in the stitching sense) up the middle and a thick tweed morning coat such as
one might see any day in Melbourne. He did not look impressive. In fact, they all
three have a mixture of European and native dress, Treasurer, Judge and Prime
Minister or Grand Vizier. Two courts were held up while proceedings were explained
to us. In one, a number of Chiefs on each side of the room presided over by the Chief
Justice at a table at one end, were deciding a case about land. One man’s land, after
being surveyed, was found to include that part of another man’s land on which the
latter’s father was buried. Judgement had not been given but was to be for the
plaintiff.
This case was being tried in the administrative or political court because some
item in it touched on the Constitution under the Uganda agreement afore mentioned.
Only natives present I hope you observe, and yet this subtlety as it might seem, was
not fully comprehended.
We next went into the ordinary court where an askari and an ordinary native
were having a case between them tried. Each had a little dock to stand in, but which
was the accused, as Leo called him, I failed to discover. The criminal which ever was
obliged by getting into the dock at the command of the Chief Justice, and then they
each slipped out again. Proceedings were evidently being suspended while we were
shown the rest of the place. Everything is in order, records are kept of every letter
received from the four District Commissioners or sent to him, “ “ “ “
“ 194
or sent to the Police Commissioner eg births and deaths, or transfers of land.
They have typewriters and telephones, and an askari near the Treasury in khaki red
fez and red binder and puttees, tho no boots. This is the dress of all askaris here, but
this one has the unique distinction of a red lead pencil stuck in his puttees.195
The treasurer – all his treasure, went into two small safes however – was much
impressed with our intelligence. Mr Nelson had told us not to be reticent, and with
perfect truth we told them in answer to a question translated by Léo as “What has
stricken you most in Africa?” that we found what they were showing us most
wonderful of all and the Treasurer listened while Leo elaborated, nodded his head
solemnly and intoned in the way all attentive natives do in conversation with each
other – ah – ah-ah constantly. Then he bade Leo tell us it was of great pleasure to
show us anything as we understood already! By this time the Sekibobo196
had joined
the cortege so Georgie and I, the Katikiro197
or P minister (pronounced kiteek’ero),
the Treasurer, the Chief Justice, his clerk and this other man who is a Saza Chief ie
Chief Chief of a county, with minor chiefs under him, back to the Kabaka’s office that
looked on to a flower garden, and thence to the outside of his private house, an ugly
villa redeemed by the beautiful native reed work and matting on the roof of his
veranda.
194
Her notations
195 Below knee leggings worn by soldiers, a long narrow piece of cloth wound tightly and spirally
round the leg, and serving both as a support and protection, worn especially by riders, and taking the
place of the leather or cloth gaiter.
196 Sekibobo - Baganda chief
197 Katikero – Baganda Prime Minister
97
He himself was not there. They would not like him to be treated as a show
figure. But we had seen him in full native costume at the send off of Sir Robert
Coryndon the Tuesday before. He is tall and handsome, twenty-six years of age, and
he wore a white kanzu with a red robe over it. His Katikiro had been there too,
similarly robed but in another colour, plum I think, a much more dignified costume
for natives than the hybrid one of everyday wear. Finally, we asked these dignitaries
would they be photographed. Rather. So they stood as anxious to look their best, yet
quite as unconscious as obliging children. Natives are rather terrified of having a
photograph taken or love it.
There is [?] growing up an intermediate group that consents for money, but
this will soon develop into the second. I have always been afraid to hurt an educated
native by letting them see me snap him, but there’s no need for such delicacy so often
as not they ask you “Madam, would you be so kind as to take my photograph and to
give me a copy”. On the other hand some think it affects their health adversely and
run like the wind when they see a camera levelled at them.
As we were leaving, one of the clerks came up to me and in perfect English
requested me to come next Tuesday and photograph his football team. I was so
startled as all but Prince Joseph and the Sekibobo had talked Luganda that I consented
and now have to keep my word. I have as much notion how to photograph black
footballers, twenty-two of them, with a small camera, as I have of dancing a mazurka.
Thank heaven it is some distance and there will be no other whites to witness my
antics with my camera legs. These I rarely use, but a snapshot would not meet the
requirements of so important an occasion. Nor is Georgie available in my stead. She
has gone off round the Lake.
But isn’t it all a mixture? Modern administrative and business methods and a
desire to be photographed, Kanzus and beautiful coats – and tomtoms. I nearly forgot
those and they were the most thrilling part of our morning’s entertainment. In more
beautiful huts like small copies of Mtesa’s tomb, situated in a courtyard near the
Kabaka’s house, were all manner of players and all manner of drums and other native
instruments. In one there was a piano or organ of drums, that is drums graduating
from tiny to big, and making different sounds. It was most exciting. There were three
shows altogether. To each group we paid a florin for division among them, and one lot
startled us by prostrating itself in gratitude by burying its faces in the straw, and then
kneeling on their heels and cutting the air downwards with their clasped hands. We
laughed outright, for we presumed that they were not really grateful for, say, the 10th
part each of 2/-; but we apparently did not do the right thing; our hosts were surprised
by our amusement.
After all this we were both tired and hungry. We came back to the hotel, fed,
rested, then went forth to a minor Chief’s hideous Europeanised house which we did
not enter – to see some wrestling. It was interesting to see the native enjoying
themselves in their own way, without missionary or other encouragement. Tho’ we
were the occasion of the present show, numbers of other natives watched them and it
was obvious they all revelled in it, performers and audience alike. There were only a
few wrestlers, which enabled one to see better what was going on: Mr Nelson said it
was the best show he had seen. Two men were especially good. One, who added to
98
shirt and trousers a leopard skin round his waist, was the more spectacular: the other a
tall slender youth quite Greek in the calm of his countenance during the struggle, was
probably even more skilful than the other. The men lent forward on each other, either
gripping the waist of the opponent or locking their wrists across his back in a most
remarkable way. Their chins rested on each other’s upper arm and it looked as if they
tried to topple each other over by means of it as well as of their arms. It was fair to
trip each other up but they stood so far apart and were leaning at such an angle that it
was very difficult to do.
All the while a choir kept up 1. a beating of drums, twanging of native fiddles 2. a
monotonous yet exciting chant and 3. a clapping of hands.
Illus. 22. Sketch of a head-dress (JW)
We sat on chairs and watched and tried to get snapshots. When a man was
thrown there were roars of applause and the victor simply triumphed, exulted round
the ring. After trotting to the end away from the choir he would pause in front of us,
the more dramatic
Some fairly ghastly relics of old practices remain too [...] not among the
Bagama proper. About three weeks ago three men were hanged before 5000
spectators for killing and eating a little girl of eleven. The chief perpetrator was
childless, and, in spite of superficial Christianity, accepted his father’s verdict that he
could have no child till he had eaten a girl of another tribe. He caught a Baganda girl,
killed her and invited a friend to the feast. His wife, a Baganda woman refused to
cook it, was beaten and ran away but did not tell. However, suspicion fell on him, he
was tried, confessed and incriminated the others. Then the wife turned up and
corroborated the story, and he, her father, his friend were executed. The young
Baganda are very indignant that the story has got about the finding of Baganda’s
cannibals, and all were keen that the murderers should be drastically dealt with.
On the whole it is the simplicity, childishness that contrasts most in the
Baganda with their marked ability. I have had lent to me a book written by the
Schibo198
and translated into English about his visit with the Katikiro to England to
see the coronation of Edward VΠ. The translation keeps close to the original, it says,
and one is struck first with the close observations of the writer and then with the
extraordinary impressions made on him of lifts, shops, trains, houses and
manufacture. Of course this is twenty years or so after, still much of it expresses the
198
The Schibo was Ham Mukassa, who accompanied the Katikiro on his trip to England for the
coronation in 1902 and later wrote Uganda’s Katikiro in England, which was re-published by Simon
Gikandi, Manchester University Press, 1998, based on the English translation by Rev. Ernst Miller in
1904.
99
native’s attitude to things European. He says, for instance, “The things of the
Europeans are always amazing …” and I thought to myself, that if we were always
wondering at these things which we saw while we were on the way, when we reached
England itself we should be like the Apostle of our [love?] … when he saw the
wonders of God which he had never seen before; and when he wrote them down in his
book he had just compared them to earthly things he knew, tho’ they were not really
like them.
I, in the same way of telling you these things, must just compare them to the things
you know, tho’ really they are not like them at all, as there is nothing in Uganda to
which you can compare the English things.
Later on in England they went to a show and were amazed at the sheep and the
shearing “So we understood what we had heard in the prophecy about our Lord. He
was brought as a sheep to the slaughter, as a sheep before its shearer is dumb. He
opened not his mouth, for we saw it being done. They shear the sheep every year for
the sheep are the barkcloth199
trees of the English.”
Incidentally, this indicates a fact in Uganda’s History – the great part played
by the Missions in Education. The Baganda are practically all Christian, or
Mohammedans. Sometimes in the same family there would be RCs, protestants and
others […] illiterate. The head of the Mohammedans here, a young fellow about
sixteen I fancy, was not allowed to go to RC or protestant school but has cousins
educated at them and feels his own defective education very keenly. One more remark
and I’ll end.
The Sekibobo200
in his book, is ardently pro-British and so anti-Germans that
Sir Harry Johnston201
, who wrote the introduction, protests the book was written in
1902. All the English, he says, are kind and wise. They will, he hopes, gradually make
all natives like them. An unkind Englishman cannot be really English (NB. I wonder
if many of his humble compatriots in hotels would agree with him. I doubt it) but the
Germans are savages. Never travel on a German boat. The English are to all other
nations as the sun to the moon. And when the English have planned a thing and find
they have been wrong, they do not allow it to happen!!!
Well, I must say the DCs and ADCs we have met as well as the missionaries,
seem to have a most unselfish standard of conduct towards natives – but there are
others
Au revoir. I am sorry this letter is so much longer than it need be to convey the
same amount of news, but for once I haven’t been working tramping about arranging
utensils and victuals for our Nile journey – nothing much – but in this climate one
tires so I could not write and concentrate better if I were paid for it. As for my diary,
Mtesa’s tomb princess - £10 a month - that and the date is a fair specimen of it these
days.
199
Bark was beaten and used as cloth by the Ugandans before European materials were introduced. 200
This is incorrect – it was actually the Schibo, the secretary of the Katikiro, an easy mistake to make 201
Sir Harry Johnston (1858-1927), British explorer, botanist, linguist and colonial administrator. In
1899 he was sent to Uganda as Special Commissioner, and later concluded the Buganda Agreement.
100
You might ring up Jean Wilkinson to see if she wants to read it, but the group
has seen the last budgets, up to Entebbe, and if all are arriving together, they won’t
probably feel inclined, tho’ for politeness they might say they would, to wade through
this.
With love and hoping to have so much more to read from you all at Khartoum
that I won’t have a minute in which to write to you. Love from Jess.
[Fort Portal/Toro]
They then travelled from Kampala by car for 200 miles to Toro district, in the
west of the country, close to the Ruwenzori Mountains. Fort Portal is the main town
in the area. This fragment, no date, was written from there, and apparently to Effie,
Minnie and Sheila
[…] but whether or no, and methinks I hear Sheila’s snort of indifference [?] on that
subject – you all know my feelings for mountains, as for dogs, is independent of their
history or utility. I may as well state forthwith that it was to see from a distance, not to
climb even part of the range that we went, and that like Kilimanjaro and Kenya,202
Ruwenzori203
was not kind to us. We saw a magnificent range in this instance but the
snows of the glacier were hidden in cloud or mist. But the scenery to Fort Portal was
attractive, the soft puce [?] road ran through green all the time, sometimes open
country, sometimes reedy, sometimes hilly, and sometimes thro’ palm trees or thro’
banana plantations. A distant lake lent variety and the road curved or even looped in
an exciting manner. There was one big coffee shamba204
which made me wonder why
people don’t try to grow a shrub or two just for its pretty shape and pinkish berries,
and altogether the trip both going and coming, tho not spectacular, was pleasant.
Otherwise I personally was disappointed... bored 205
for the DC of Toro was
away on safari ... met his dozen of porters setting out the day after our arrival, and
instead of meeting him – a most interesting man by all accounts, and Margaret
Peterson, the authoress206
, who is the wife of one of the subordinates of Mr Fisher207
,
we stayed with the Mission and met only missionaries or folk moved by missionary
ardour to nurse or educate the natives. Georgie stayed with a Miss Briggs, an
Australian nurse to whom we had a letter of introduction; I with the Arch Deacon’s
wife, Mrs Lloyd208
. Both were kindness itself to both of us. But Minnie, Effie and
Sheila, I am no Christian and, adaptable as I strive to be, I felt at the end, like a poor,
sick little chameleon that had to change suddenly from a secular yellow to a clerical
202
All three mountains are so high they are often swathed in cloud. Mt. Kilimanjaro can be seen from
the Mombasa train on a clear day, which is perhaps why she mentions it for they did not travel close to
it, as far as can be ascertained 203
Ruwenzori Mountains (known as the ‘Mountains of the Moon’) 204
Vegetable garden/farmlet or farm 205
Gap caused by tear in page 206
Margaret Peterson (1883-1933) was a famous English novelist and poet. 207
Fisher married fellow Church Missionary Society member Ruth Hurditch in 1902. She wrote On the
Borders of Pygmy Land (1905) which describes their time in Toro, and Twilight Tales of the Black
Buganda (1911) 208
Mr and Mrs A.B. Lloyd came out to Toro at the same time as Ruth Fisher, in 1900 (see Fisher’s
1905 book)
101
grey with streaks of hospital red in it. They are doing good work and they are good
people and it was refreshing to feel the energetic atmosphere – no slumber from 2 –
4pm here. There was plenty to do and it was done eagerly. But it was delightful to me
to get back to the Poultons for the three or four days before our departure to Jinja.
Georgie, on the other hand, but for the fact that her diet was somewhat ascetic,
was in her element. She is truly religious, in a good sense, and over and above it,
fundamentally Methodist. There were, moreover, people, white people, to be kind to
and be admired by for the kindness, and the brightly orthodox naturally seem to her, a
satisfactory audience. My hostess was not truly missionary, hankered for the fleshpots
I fancy, dressed well tho simply, and had savoir faire, but she was nervy and narrow,
and never stopped talking about herself. She showed me photographs for a whole
afternoon and a whole evening and I must have aged under the process for she asked
me if I remembered the visit of the Duke of Clarence209
to Australia. I simply shook
my head but felt a little depressed for vainly of myself, I know that the appearance of
comparative youth is departing from me – glare, chiefly I think, is the cause, but the
lines grow apace.
Toro is a volcanic district. The day we were arriving there was a small
earthquake which we did not, however, notice in the car, and our one little excursion
there was to a crater lake210
in the hills down the precipitous sides of which, in the old
days, witches used to be rolled. The Mission is near a hill in which the King of Toro
now lives, but which in pre-Christian days, was supposed to be the abode of devils.
The missionaries themselves had to interfere to plant some of the trees on it when the
natives, in their new religious zeal, desired to cut down everything associated with old
beliefs. Beautiful grey birds settle at evening on the branches of the two trees that
alone remain. I have, I think, a photo of the place to show you, but fear not – you shall
be repaid for all Georgie’s expenditure, for my experience at Mrs Lloyd’s hands has
taught me surely what I have long suspected, should be seldom and well chosen. By
the way Effie, I have sent some that may interest you, tho’ certainly not for their
intrinsic merit. In a letter that, after going to several small folk, should ultimately
reach Peter211
I hope they will be still visible when they do.
We have been buying basket ware which cannot be taken with us to
Khartoum. At the mission I got the chance of a beautifully made native basket with a
lid which, in Kampala, I should have had to pay at least 10/- and up and, if I could get
it at all in Melbourne, 25/-. Mrs Lloyd got it for 3/- and after paying for some stuff to
sew it in and 5/- or so for postage, I think it is still cheap. I have sent it to you Effie c/-
Thomas, as I feared the customs people would pile it on if I sent it to Sheila at the
Book Club. If there is duty and if there is camage (as there must be) get Sheila to give
it to you, Effie, I am sorry to bother you, but trust the bother will come at as
inconvenient time as possible. Have a look at it and if you think the Club would like it
for magazines, please get Sheila to let Miss Felding know and it can be sent as a little
209
Duke of Clarence (1864-1892), the eldest son of Edward VΠ visited Australia as a young shipman
on a global voyage between 1879 and 1882 ie well before Jessie was old enough to remember such an
event. It was in the Duke of Clarence’s wife’s honour (the Grand Duchess Maria Alexandrovna of
Russia) that the Marie biscuit was created – not that this seemed to influence Jessie’s opinion of the
‘delicacy’ which was found everywhere they travelled. 210
Possibly Lake George which lies between Lakes Edward and Albert 211
Peter, apparently the daughter of Tom (see FN 216)
102
xmas memento from Africa. It may be a bit out of shape but if damped should soon
straighten. The lid which is now in, not on it, fits perfectly and if you don’t like it for
the Club, just get Mrs Bage212
to keep it for me. I might give it to someone for a
stocking basket but use your own discretion. I am sending a lot more bought here but
to be kept till January and then sent. Try to get the customs to let them in unopened as
they are truly only native basket ware, not for sale. I suggest getting Mrs Bage to keep
them all as she has room and I’d like the fun of showing them when I get home.
Sheila however, must part up (out of my account of course) for any expenses incurred.
[Kampala]
Well, after Toro we came straight to Mr and Mrs Poulton213
and have heard
ever so many yarns I meant to tell you but it’s getting late and I must stop except to do
a brag. I am ageing rapidly, as I told you before, all except my back hair which, for
some unknown reason, has blossomed out into its appearance of ten or twelve years
ago. Mrs Poulton goes into violent enthusiasms over it and, truth to tell, I admire it
much myself. Like most of the few compliments I receive, however, Mrs P’s are
backhanders. Heavens above woman, why do you do that glorious (!!!) stuff like that
– when I thought it beautifully dressed – and she had evolved a style of two plaits
crossed that make me feel as if I had on a tight toque, but which hides my wrinkled
brow and is so far becoming.
In Johannesburg I thought I was going white so this vagary is rather a relief,
unless it should be a capillary swan song and I awake some mornings to find myself
what Mrs Poulton (aged thirty or thereabouts and looking twenty-five) calls herself. A
poor little old lady in the middle of Africa.
Georgie’s health is much better and I was extremely bucked up by the
mountain air at Toro. I have been well all through but was beginning to feel inert.
Now once more I am alive and I hope fortified for a month in which Georgie and I
shall be very much a deux. She is looking forward - generously but maddeningly – to
“losing myself in your pleasure Jess, when we get to Egypt.” Alas, the deliberate
preparation for my ardours chills them, but surely to goodness, such a splendid
opportunity will fire me inspite of my hostess’s little foible. I am looking forward to it
immensely and only wish some of you could share it with me.
My love to you all three. Letters from you at Khartoum I hope – so far none
from Sheila, one from Min and, heaven bless her, four from Effie.
Yours affectionately, Jess.
Fragment only
Of the real life of the African people, we know no more at first hand, than we
do of African wild animals. We see most of the one in service, as we do most of the
other in zoos. We caught a glimpse of freer life on our trip round Kenya in the native
reserves and I was startled, nearly into stupor, by the sight of two giraffes on the Athi
212
Presumably Jessie’s friend Ethel Bage’s mother 213
At Kampala
103
Plains. We haven’t even heard a lion roar and the sight of elephant sniffing the wind is
for the chosen few, and not for us. Still, natives and wild animal life are all round us
and we have heard endless stories of both from folk in touch with both of them.
Uganda is a pastoral country; the chief wealth is in cattle and goats, the
women live mainly on milk in gourds, the men on milk and baked blood obtained by
shooting a cow skilfully in the jugular vein with an arrow and so bleeding her just
enough for immediate needs. Consequently, cattle diseases can easily spell famine,
natives being extraordinarily unadaptable in the matter of food and the work of the
veterinary department is of primary importance. The officials have consistently to go
“on safari” and have many opportunities of big game shooting and of meeting both
Chiefs and people.
In this lake214
, there are certain islands, the Sese islands, frequented by certain
deer which unluckily turned out to be the ‘intermediate host’ of sleeping sickness. The
natives died in such numbers that the remainder had to be deported and the islands left
for years. Now the disease, having died out, the natives are being gradually returned
and some stock sent over for experimental purposes.
From one of the group the other day, signs of distress were observed –
crocodiles it seems had become so un-used to interference that they were chasing the
newcomers all over the island. They were brought away again but when the men went
back to bring their stock it was gone – the spoor led to the water’s edge. Similarly, on
another island the hippos are so rampageous now that nothing can be grown there.
On the outbreak of disease among cattle, it is terribly difficult to be sure
quarantine is not broken; and in the back parts of the country natives are still
desperately superstitious and frightened of the witchcraft of the interfering white man.
From Uganda into Tanganyika territory and the Belgian Congo a wild rumour will go
that the stock inspector is bewitching the goats with a view to bewitching their
owners. It has been known to make the terrified people kill their own wealth in
hundreds. When, however, the Chiefs are won over and there is a general recognition
by folk that the vets are saving the cattle, ordinary self-interest has to be combated as
the wily capitalist, in search of a bear market, seeks to hurry his herds across the
quarantine boundaries.
Punishments allowed for this are, in most officials’ opinion, quite inadequate,
but if the sympathy of the Chief can be enlisted against the culprit, the tenderness of
the English governmental methods may be advantageously evaded. For instance, Mr
Poulton, one of the most delightful men I have ever met - with an extremely pretty
wife too, a most festive pair, was trying to turn back a terrible onslaught of
rinderpest215
in one of one of the cattle districts of Uganda. He caught a man with 400
herd just across into ‘clean’ country and was […]
214
Lake Victoria 215
Rinderpest (also cattle plague or steppe murrain) is an infectious viral disease of cattle, domestic
buffalo, and some other species of even-toed ungulates, including buffaloes, large antelopes and deer,
giraffes, wildebeests and warthogs. Outbreaks of the disease cause major disasters for cattle owning
communities.
104
On departing Kampala and en route to Jinja
S.S. Clement Hill between
Port Bell (Kampala) and
Jinja 10.55am
26th
September 1922
My dear Tom216
,
As you will have gathered from my family letters, I have heard nothing from
either you or from Sheila since leaving Johannesburg when I had a letter from you.
Consequently I know nothing of my business affairs. I am not however, worrying at
all about them, relying on hearing when I reach Khartoum. I am however, anxious at
the news we have received just a few days ago of the continued hostilities between
Greece and Turkey217
and of Britain’s ultimatum. It is heartbreaking to think of more
English blood being shed, and, from a strictly personal point of view, it is alarming to
think that my leave may be stultified by my not being able to travel to Greece, to say
nothing of complications in Egypt.
As a result of all this, I do not yet know where to ask you to send my next
supply of money. I have been to the best of my belief, moderate, but have already
exceeded the £100 I desired for Africa. Photography has run me into more pounds
than I can afford or endure to contemplate, so will you, on receipt of a cable from me
counselling perhaps the name of a place and the word “send” or “cable, cable or send
there accordingly, £300 pounds. If I have to my credit £300, let me have it; if I would
need to borrow to get it, send two hundred. If I say “cable” it will mean I am in a
hurry for it. If “send”, it can come less expensively for I want now to save the
bawbees.218
I wish I knew where to ask you to write showing me my position at the time
you receive this, but owing to uncertainty, I dare not now say Athens or even Cairo.
And, by the way Tom, if I ever cable without mentioning health would you mind
letting Sheila and Connie know and asking them to tell any enquiring friends that we
have got safely to the place whence the cable is sent?
To sum up, if you receive a cable “Send Athens” it means I want two or three
hundred pounds sent there at once but not by cable and also that I am quite well after
our excursion from Uganda to the Soudan. I think too, you may interpret it to mean
that a letter sent there explaining my finances will be in time to catch me at Athens or
whatever other town is indicated.
216
Tom was obviously managing her finances. He may have been Thomas Fulton, her cousin and son
of Agnes (Watson) and Alexander Fulton, and who was married to Jean Roake. They had a daughter. A
family relationship can be guessed at through the very informal tone use in her communications to him
and her mention of him having seen her family letters. ‘Peter’ was sometimes used as a girl’s name. 217
The 1920 Treaty of Sevres authorised the Greeks some territorial gains at the expense of the
Ottoman Empire but the Turks objected and successfully repelling the Greek advances at Smyrrna in
September 1922 which ended the hostilities 218
Bawbees, Scottish term for a half-penny
105
If you have several agents let Thomas Cook be the one you select, and should
the town be Rome, I can try both in the addresses of that ubiquitous firm. For if I can’t
get to Greece I don’t know where I will go – Rome or England I imagine. If I know
no more by the time I reach Khartoum, I may wire ‘arrived safely’ or something of
that sort, but otherwise I shall cable in emergency only or for money. So much for
verbosity, vagueness and business.
I suppose it will be two months before you receive this. If so, accept in
advance, my best wishes to you, Jean and Peter for the coming Xmas season. Peter
will get, I suppose, a letter I posted yesterday to go first to the Wilkinson children and
ultimately to her. It has some photographs – twelve – to illustrate and I hope they will
be recognizable when she gets them. If so tell her to keep them with my love. If not,
she must accept the will for the deed as I sent them to her last in the hope she might
like to have them.
You surmise that Africa might look different to Australian eyes from what it
does to English, was correct. Chiefly at present, I think of the quantity and quality of
service the women folk can obtain here – not for nothing but cheaply. Georgie has had
since we left Bukama, three personal boys in succession: Kolo in the Congo at 30 or
35 francs a month, the franc equalling about 5p, Combo from Nairobi to Jinja (where
we arrived today) at 30 rupees or florins a month, and 6p a day for posho or food, and
Cosea (to rhyme with Hosea) from Kampala to Rejaf at 20 rupees a month including
posho. You see there is a great variation between the Congo, Kenya Colony and
Uganda, but none can be called very expensive.
There are however, incidental expenses. One has to give them a blanket, at
least when they come travelling, pay their fares each way, and their wages for the
minimal time it can take them to return to their loving wives (possibly with another
collected en route). For instance, we have to have a cook to come with us from
Nimule to Rejaf, nine or ten day’s safari. But we must get him at Kampala or Rejaf
and pay him for at least two months, merely for his nine day’s exertions. As in India,
each does comparatively little, except the cooks whose day is from about 7am to any
time at night. Our friends the Poultons keep eight, a head ‘boy’, a second ‘boy’, a
pantry ‘boy’, a moto (boy in our sense), a youngster who does all sorts of jobs
including caddying, a dobre (to wash), a cook and two Shamba or garden ‘boys’. In
addition, two others bring water and wood. Together they cost £11 pounds a month.
They provide their own food, not unassisted by scraps from the Poulton’s table, and
the cook gets 25 or 30 florins.
As you observe, all the servants are masculine, except an occasional ayah here
for children. Elsewhere the men are the nurses too. Native men in short, do all the
work for us and native women all the work for their men. Combo and Cosea today –
the one way in which their service to Georgie overlaps – had their small bundles
carried by women of ours - two attendants selected the smallest, and the rest were
borne by temporary porters at a reward each of ten florin cents - of which there are
fifty in a shilling. On the whole too, these servants are good servants and obedient as a
rule, without servility. Old fashioned manners here are most deferential, the whites
being accorded the respect due to Chiefs. For instance, Mrs Poulton’s old cook came
to visit her week or so ago - as soon as she went out to the kitchen he fell on his
106
knees while her present servants flocked round like a chorus, repeatedly thanking him
for having come to visit the memsahib.
The connection between both Kenya and Uganda on the one hand, and India
on the other, is remarkably close. Even on our small acquaintance here, three or four
were born in India, many more have come from work there, and numbers of Indian
officials, civil and military, settle in retirement in Kenya – especially, instead of
England. This connection is reflected to some extent in ordinary speech; while Sir or
Master is Swahili, Bwana; lady wife or madam is memsahib; a master craftsman or
expert in anything is a funde – but I’m not sure really whether that is an example of
what I mean – and pukka is a general term of approbation. You know of course, that
Indians themselves are legion in Kenya and Uganda, and the Goan – with Portuguese
name, is abroad in the land. Da Silvas and de Souzas are masters of many going
concerns and along with other Indians, and are found as post officers and station
masters all over the country.
Here they are more contented than in Kenya where the Indian problem, of
which you may have heard, is often extremely acute. They want equality with the
white, to build their houses next to his and to have as much political importance as he.
But, the white, objecting to the smell of ghee, to the hammering of metal work at any
hour of the day and night, the difference between oriental and English ideas of women
now, and having besides, a very strong sense of his own superiority, refuses both. The
Indians’ English is choice, not to say stilted, and their transition of thought is different
from ours. At the Treasury in Entebbe an Indian was required to send in an estimate of
what he thought it would cost him to go with his family to do a certain job-of-work in
the country. He sent it in, adding “The estimate does not include breakages, childbirth
or other similar sundries”!
So far Goans are the best photographers we have met, they alone having done
justice to our feeble attempts at mapping little records of the trip. That, I may tell you,
is no easy task in African light, which contrary to all appearances, requires longer
exposures than can be give to a moving object.
Written just after leaving Jinja and heading through central-northern Uganda
to Lake Albert and then down the ‘Albert’ Nile to Nimule on the border in the Sudan.
No date or address
Dear People, as some of you already know we have delayed our journey north
in order that the Nile might rise sufficiently to save us going in row boats from
Mahagi219
[or Wadelai] to Nimule instead of a steamer direct from Butiaba and that
also the weather might have time to become a little cooler. We have stayed therefore
six weeks in Entebbe, Kampala and Jinja with one excursion to Fort Portal from
Kampala before setting out as we have done today on our trip by rail (five hours),
boat, and safari to Khartoum. I have the feeling that we have not [?] acquired such
gallons of information, so we certainly do and perhaps ought in our travels, or else
having passed thro the very efficient filter of my attention, it has reached my brain by
small quantities only. However, we have met some jolly people. Since setting out
again on our travels ie after leaving Jinja – I have felt curiously depressed, whether
219
Actually the Port, as Mahagi is up the hill some miles away
107
because I mind leaving them, which I do not think is the case, as I’ll meet those I like
in England, or premonitions of events to come, or merely that I want a rest from
hotels and something I do, for, say a week, I do not know. An utterly inconceivable
explanation is that I am wanting to see some of you folk so I mention it only to
dismiss the supposition as absurd. Today, a small toto220
knelt as we passed to say
“Jambo”, Good Day to us. Treated with such deference how could one miss friends
and relatives.
In Uganda we have travelled slowly, which is good, but had been obliged to
dawdle a good deal just as when staying with friends at home. Owing to sickness and
one thing and another people with whom we might have gone out into the blue and
seen doing their various jobs, have been unable to take us or even go themselves. But
everyone has been extraordinarily kind, the merest acquaintance asking us to dinner
and getting people to meet us and then handing us on to others at the next place. The
sort of kindness runs with every place we go to. Some take it for granted that they
can’t entertain us at their homes but run us about in their cars; people you expect you
to look after you, can’t, when it comes to the point, but there is always some one to
prevent you’re feeling lonely or out of things. In a country like this, where whatever
you learn, you learn socially, and where there are few sights as such, this makes all
the difference to your pleasure or discontent in travelling.
At the Poultons in Kampala we had met a Mr and Mrs Hart who promptly
invited us to dine with them on our arrival in Jinja. We did, and had a bishop – called
Mr Bishop of Kampala because he isn’t, his sphere being the Eastern province in
which that town does not lie: and a Mr Groves of the Treasury, as our fellow guests.
The Bishop, whose legs were particularly fascinating, had the misfortune to break his
glass at the table. He said he now realized for the very first time the intrinsic truth of
the time honoured explanation “It just broke in me ’and Mum [?]” for that is precisely
what happened. Mr Groves was a less Gentlemanly type than one usually meets here
among officials, or perhaps I should say, less oxonian. However, he was most
enthusiastic to teach us all a new game of Donkey, most complicated – and kicked me
vigorously whenever he thought I was going to make a mistake. The first time, and I
assumed that he had gone mad, and should not be exasperated so I said nothing, but
he instantly cried out. Didn’t you feel the pressure of my foot? ‘I did’ said I. And we
saw you were kicking her, cried the others’. ‘Then why,’ demanded he ‘why didn’t
she put her ten on the Bishop’s nine. Thereafter, when he kicked I looked wildly at all
the other people’ cards, but in spite of my efforts and his, or because of them, Georgie
managed to get out one ahead of me, and I was donkey. The next day, I learnt from
Mrs Sewell who kept the Jinja hotel that this Mr Groves makes admirable pastry but is
not popular with men because he is always expecting you to admire his cooking. In
this country, more even than in Australia, he is a very special oddity.
The only drawback to the evening was that it practically involved us in going
to church to hear the Bishop preach. The church was held in the tukika or [………]
END OF LETTERS
220
Child
108
2.2 TRANSCRIPT OF THE DIARY
Covering travel in Uganda from Jinja at the northern end of Lake Victoria
(which is the start of the Nile river, and there called the ‘Victoria’ Nile), by train to
Namasagali (because of rapids on the Nile at that location), boarding a boat then
getting off at Masindi Port and going inland and up-hill in a van to Masindi. They
then proceeded down the escarpment to Butiaba on the shores of Lake Albert where
they joined another boat and sailed north, out of the Lake and down what at that point
is called the ‘Albert’ Nile, through swampy territory to Nimule just over the border in
the Sudan.
SS Speke, The Nile River near Namasagali, [Uganda] 4 Oct 1922
After a week at Jinja from Tuesday 25th
September to Wednesday morning 4th
October to be exact, we came on by train for Namasagali today (9.30am to nearly
2pm) and at once boarded this little boat which will take us down the Nile into its
enlargement called Lake Keoga221
and deposit us we hope tomorrow morning at
Masindi Port.
We joined the train this morning at the pier, not the railway station and felt, or
rather I should speak for myself and say I felt, rather depressed as Mrs Sewell at the
hotel had seemed preoccupied with Mrs Howes from Kampala and there was no one
to see us off even along with other departing travellers. However Mr Haddon
happened to be seeing people at the Clement Hill, and indicated that he would see us
later and finally Mr and Mrs Hart, Mr Haddon, and Captain Skinner all bade us
farewell at Jinja station. Mr Haddon introduced us to Mr and Mrs Gunther, two of the
party which we were so disappointed to hear would be going north with us. She looks
attractive, a dark vivid looking woman years younger than her rather bloated looking
husband, evidently used to money and travel all her life.
A Miss Marsh, who talks like mad, shared our compartment, and is now
sharing our cabin on the boat. While we get off at Masindi Port she goes round the
lake, a trip we were strongly advised not to take. There is nothing particular to record
of the railway journey or the scenery which has the usual parklike appearance of this
part of Uganda. The chief amusement was the bustle at the railway stations, which are
the best built we have seen since leaving Tanganyika territory. They are grey, solid at
one end, a roof support, and open otherwise giving protection to travellers but not
walling them in. It is still amusing to see tall dignified natives bringing their stick of
sugar cane to chew – to take the place of our box of chocolate.
It was also gratifying to see Kosia’s222
joy when he learnt we were to have an
askari. He arrived in time, very slim and svelte in khaki, fez, puttees, cumberbund I
think and with rifle and all. His water bottle swung at his side and he looks most
lordly. We have surely gone up in the eyes of Kosia and the cook.
221
Now Lake Kyoga 222
She initially referred to him as ‘Cosea’ but that now changes to ‘Kosia’
109
The Nile springs ready grown from the head of Victoria Nyanza – but for a
few rapids it would be navigable at once – so where we joined it at Namasagali it is
already a wide stream. The boat is small but clean and pleasant compared with the
Congo boats and the same may be said of the still unappetising food. We had
lukewarm beef instead of goat, clean dishes and spoons or knives for butter and jam.
There is very little room and I have a chair by the cabin door in such a position that
everyone wishing to pass has to squeeze along.
With the Gunthers are two men, an Englishman and a Scotchman, pleasant and
look less florid than Mr Gunther. I haven’t caught their names yet but I think that the
Scotchman is MacKenzie. They are all connected with Liepzig223
and have been
having a look at Kenya and Uganda it is said, to see if they should establish a business
there. The Askari, cook and personal boy are not allowed on the boat with us. They
are on a lighter224
which we push.
A man and his wife (Risdon or Ricdon), who are being transferred from Jinja
to Soroti, are on board and a funny little canon Blackledge, who is said to have said to
the Archbishop of Canterbury that the Almighty had denied him stature but had
bestowed on him the gift of utterance.
Just before dinner I discovered that Mr Ricdon is an ardent photographer. He
gave me some tips about developing which, as I don’t do it, I have forgotten, and said
that in Africa you should never give less than f8 and should expose never for less than
½ S225
. This is due to the yellow in the light and to our height above sea level.
But is it? We should have given the same at Zanzibar. When we did not, they were
underexposed.
5th
Oct.
During the night after a glorious moonlight there came on a truly terrific storm
drenching our heads even in our cabins. The poor men sleeping on deck were washed
out. Lightening, extraordinary with very little thunder. Lasted I am told, an hour and a
half. We were up in time to see sunrise but did not arrive at Masindi Port, as we were
told late last night to expect at 6.30am, nor yet after breakfast. We had lunch on board
and only then began to arrive. The port is just a shed or two.
A reddy brown road runs almost straight up the hill and down to Masindi
itself. We went in a motor van, Mr McKenzie, Mr Holt and the Canon in front with a
native driver, Georgie, Mr Gunther, Mrs Gunther and my-self on chairs on the rear.
Behind us all the luggage that was not in the hold, our cook and one or two of the
natives. Kosia and Mustapha the askari waited with the food and other luggage.
Before landing we had another storm of rain and are told we must expect plenty on
the Safari.
223
Apparently a German company which was exploring for business opportunities in Africa. 224
A low lying, flat bottomed, low sided boat which is towed by a bigger powered boat, usually used to
carry the over-flow of luggage and poorest passengers, also called a ‘slipper’. 225
S = seconds
110
From Masandi Port to Masindi is 29-30 miles. We did about twelve miles an
hour only; the road, tho good, is soft as in other parts of Uganda. About 4.45pm
(instead of 10.30am at latest) we reached Masindi, which is not merely parklike but
garden like, shrubs seeming to happen anywhere. The hotel looked quite attractive but
there were four rooms only for six people. It seemed to be assumed that two men
could not be asked to share a room – ie Mr Holt and Mr McKenzie. The Canon was
going elsewhere, like Mr Chapman of Dromana. Finally Mr and Mrs Gunther went off
to accept an invitation to the PCs226
which was nice of them as they wished to be all
together at the hotel. So we have each a single room white washed, cement floors, two
beds with straw mattresses and a clean minimum of everything. Like the Speke it is
not good, but better than the Congo. The proprietor is a Major Godson, born in
England I think, but brought up in Queensland near Bundaberg. He has been in Africa
since the Boer war and longs to be back in Australia where he can have a horse (very
few horses can live in Africa227
).
His assistant is a Mr Dickenson; they rather startled Mr Holt and I think Mr
MacKenzie who is a New Zealander originally, by offering them drinks with them-
selves and by sitting down to dinner - a very bad dinner, with us. Major Godson is a
typical Australian and rather one of the many types of Australian country sic men.
Very gentle in manner with a quiet voice and kindliness written all over him. But the
group of us seemed not to blend well and we have all gone to bed early. The Liebzig
people are very keen on Rhodesia joining the Union and laugh at the Anti-Dutch
feelings of some of our friends in the South. The need of Rhodesia for a Port for her
cattle is their chief consideration. They have large interests in Argentina, Rhodesia
and […]West and Mr Holt has been in Meru228
as a railway director and has a railway
pass all over Africa.
6 Oct 1922
Slept like a log but still feeling depressed as food at this “Interlake” hotel
(nearly midway between Lake Victoria and Lake Albert) is almost as bad as on the
Congo. They have as a rule three courses of meat, the first two messy and the last
which we have not hitherto known was coming, a roast presumably, lukewarm.
Fortunately for me there is fruit, and the bread is passable. Masindi is a pretty place,
the green remarkably vivid. The name of the hotel is done in red plants in front of it
and there is an arch of blue convolvulus. It rains here daily. Today we bade Kosia do
our washing after first inquiring from the hotel people if they objected to lending
necessaries. They replied certainly not, but Kosia objected to carry the water he
required and naturally it was not the job of the hotel boys to do it. He may be right; if
he were a houseboy he would not be expected to carry any, but with us he has far less
to do than with a man; we do all our own packing and the hotel people, Mr Dickenson
to be exact, says his refusal is absurd. He has done it but says he had better go back to
Kampala. Erissa the cook and Mustapha the askari came to us and, as far as our very
inefficient medium of discourse permits, seems to be offering to divide a personal
boys work between them – Query who will do washing on safari and pack up our beds
226
Provincial Commissioner 227
Because of Tsetse fly 228
Not sure this is the correct name - Meru is near Mt Kenya. Hamilton described it on her 1922 visit
as “…a tiny place with a K.A.R. station of ten whites, a hospital the size of a hen house, and a few
Indian duka’s. pp. 68-9, with no mention of a train station.
111
which we could do ourselves but must not unless in an emergency? If we can get that
cut and dried it would be a saving of bother. Here on the spot, had we but known,
safari boys could be got to be cook and personal boy in one for thirty Rupees all told.
One would have to write about one month ahead though.
Later. Mr Dickenson has just interviewed the cook and Mustapha for us to
make sure when they offer to do for us that they had thought of the washing etc. The
four of us stood by while he talked. Who will be Dobie (washerman) for these ladies
when they send back Kosia? I will, said Mustapha. Who will make their beds? I will.
Who will bring them the water for their baths? I will – Mustapha in short was to do
everything. The cook remains the cook. Then Mustapha standing at attention, his eyes
fixed on Mr Dickenson and looking very like a violent but upright schoolboy, began a
long recitation that sounded like a confession of faith. Bwana Scheenya (Mr Skinner)
had told him to look after these ladies, to see that all went well with them and that
everything was right. He had told Bwana Scheenya he would do this, and he would!!!!
It seems that he has been a personal boy; but I should live to have my cerise
scallops229
washed by an askari surprises me. Pray heaven he doesn’t think it part of
his duties to put us to bed and ram us in with his rifle end.
Mrs Watson, the Provincial Commissioner’s wife, has sent us an invitation to
dinner on Sunday.
Saturday 7th
Oct.
We are still putting in time here. The great joy is a one-eyed dog who attaches
himself to me for walks. If I do not take him far enough he tries to seize my sleeve
when I turn in order to pull me back. G and I went to the mission (Mr and Mrs
Bowers) this morning to see about our chairs. Mr Nelson thought they would be a few
rupees. They were two guineas each. The frames to which they are to be tied are
flimsy as there are no bamboos about here, but the chairs called Satan or “rucke”
chairs are neat and serviceable, take up little room and are comfortable both for meals
and resting and I had visions of paying for mine myself in order to bring it home.
Georgie desires to present me with it but I decline the latter and am doubtful whether
it is worth my while to spend so much on it. I think she could sell them at Rejaf.
I forgot to mention that yesterday a native, looking roguish under a dilapidated
hat (when you did not see his face) and fearsome with the skins of wild things slung
round him, came and gave us a full performance, dancing chanting – displaying two
dolls and other puppets. There were two redeeming features to the show. He
occasionally happened onto his head and stayed there an amazing length of time
patting the ground with the palms of his hands and waggling his legs more or less
skilfully. Also with various horns, he imitated the cries or grunts of wild animals, the
lion roar and other […] pantings (for that is what it is like) being especially good.
To return to today. We were wanted back for the at-home day this afternoon
but I went to the Duka instead to buy a sack for our onions, blanco for my very dirty
helmet, wineglasses for the safari, a tin of cigarettes and some chocolates – these last
and the blanco to be my private property. Kosia, tho too slow to go into the garden
229
Cerise scallops - cherry coloured scalloped edged lace, band or collar, probably of a blouse or dress
112
and catch worms, is behaving sweetly. Nethertheless, he is to return to Kampala and
we are to trust ourselves to the askari and the cook. Today we have to search for a
bottle strong enough for Erissa to make his yeast in. I gave him all the hops and dealt
out a little flour, sugar and salt for the purpose with, I trust, a great appearance of
yeast-experience. I had acquired the recipe on board the Speke from Mrs Ricdon. We
cut the gammon ham in two to fry part and boil the rest and I instructed Erissa to
make a paste to put over the cut part. He insisted on having some sugar for the
purpose which sounds quite correct but methinks it found its way into some
concoction they were drinking with the other boys.
All his chits are good so I am looking forward to some decent food on the
safari. Here I subsist on soup, toast and fruit. Mr Dickenson is down with a bad attack
of malaria for which he blames sleeping with only one blanket when he had made up
beds for seven people, only four of whom arrived – our party and the Gunthers. I have
tried to learn a few phrases of Swahili now that Kosia, who spoke a fair amount of
English, is going. The phrases selected are suggestive – Be silent (natives chatter like
a lot of bees) Tell the cook to bring tea – did the water boil. I like food underdone (for
Georgie) I like food much cooked (for me). We go early tomorrow morning. Make
this water cooler (they habitually give me baths that nearly boil me alive – I am left
without any extra cold with which to dilute it. I am contemplating church again
tomorrow in order to hear him to whom the Lord denied statue but gave the gift of
utterance.
Sunday 8th
Oct 1922
Was reproved by Mr MacKenzie for having had a spider killed by Kosia. Had
a talk with Mr Holt about South America. He says there is less corruption in the
Argentine than in any of the South American states he knows. But in the others
apparently charming men who talk most/poetically of their fatherland and its honour
are the most unmitigated scoundrels. Each of them can be brought and in the interests
of his shareholders Mr Holt has, on occasion, bought them. He also says that the
Americans of USA are detested as business men, especially in the Argentine. The
head of a huge American combine once approached Mr Holt on the subject saying
“You know Holt, we’ve all the money in the world but we failed in South America
because we have not the right sort of men. Now you Britishers have no money now
but you have the men. How about us finding the money and you supplying the men?”
To which crude proposal Mr Holt replied. “You are wrong in assuming we have no
money. We have. But if you were correct and we had none, you are asking us to give
away our one asset. Nothing doing.”
At present we are waiting for afternoon tea, of which the feature is to be a cake
made, it seems but I am not sure, by Major Godson’s own fair and virtually Australian
hands. It is 4.35pm government time and Mr H is getting anxious. He is to be over at
the mission at quarter to five, a twenty minute walk. But as Church goes in by Sun
time, half an hour later than the other, there is still a chance, if the Major hurries, that
our South American magnate may have his cake and eat it.
Georgie is not well enough to go across – that is, her legs feel queer. She is
disappointed but I suffer in silence with a smiling eye. I would have gone with her in
order to judge of the Canon’s eloquence. Hope the cake is good for at present I starve
113
in the midst of plenty. For lunch we had soup (???), stewed meat, pie, cold meat, hot
roast (all in order of their appearance) and a jam tart and cream. The last, the only
edible thing tho. Georgie manages to consume more than I do. If the cake fails, there
is still dinner at the PCs (Mr Watsons).
We are feeling rather worried whether we have enough porters or not. We set
out for Butiaba tomorrow and the boat we get there, should bring us to Nimule
between 8am and 12pm on Wednesday morning.
Later we went up to the Provincial Commissioner’s for dinner – very nice
people. Met a Captain Something whom we had seen around and found wanting,
waiting at the Treasury. He hates Uganda, wants to get back to England and games.
Mrs Watson like an older Mona Grant; Mr Watson like Mr de Bouw of the Congo.
Can hardly imagine a difference of race. He and she have been home by the Soudan
route and tho they went at a worse time than we are doing, they enjoyed it immensely.
We learnt too from Mrs Gunther who is staying here, that fifty porters are waiting for
us.
The Gunther party are in the care of the Colonial office and the foreign office
no less. They wired for porters a fortnight ago thro the Mamur and learnt only a few
days ago that the wire was never sent and that since the 26th
, telegraphic
communication has been broken by flooded rivers (luckily rivers flowing into Lake
Albert and not on our route). As they are so important however, the P.C. who has
special instructions regarding them, sent a runner through to the Mamur who is to do
what he can and who mentioned the fifty porters for us. Our minds are relieved - also
our priority in wiring may make things easy for us, there is no doubt we were first,
earlier even than their first wiring. Georgie was tired and left early to my disgust, for I
was interested in the folk there. The others stayed however, to play bridge.
Illus. 23. Government motor van, Uganda 1911, possibly like the one used230
230
From Gann and Duignan, p.195
114
Monday 9th
October
All our goods have gone to the transport office. Erissa and Mustapha (and rifle
and all) have gone with them. Another van calls for the passengers and their chairs
and any small trifles after lunch. Have sat and talked of South America with Mr Holt.
He was the Commercial member of a mission sent by the British Government in 1918
under Sir Maurice de Bunseu231
. Mr Holt hated it – they were treated like royalty but
he thought de B too weak and the mission useless. From Australia to Valpariso and
hence to Antofagasta, then by rail up a marvellous line sometimes 16,000 feet above
sea level to La Paz and down to Cusco and then to Moleane [?] and by sea to Lima
and so home, would make a good trip. Three and a half to four months from Australia
to Australia? That is all I’ll ever have time or money for, if that, but the Argentine
sounds interesting too, tho to me less so. British capital has made great railways and
for the rest, the land is extraordinarily fertile.
It is queer to have happened here in the middle of Africa on to so typical an
Australian as the Major. He is mending chairs, making cakes, seeing about rope or its
substitute for everyone. The place, African as it is in its setting, its servants and its
courses at meals has, thru him a distinctly Australian flavour. Oddly, his assistant Mr
Dickenson, who is English, has an Australian name, Hobart, one of his ancestors
having given him the name from whom Hobart was named.
We left Masindi in the motor van about 1pm. Erissa the cook and some of the
other boys were in the back, Mrs Gunther, Mr MacKenzie and Mr Holt sat on a
wicker settee. Mr Gunther, Georgie and I on chairs facing them. Mr Stevens of the
transport, another man and a native driver in front. The road lay through pretty
country but we could not see it well – then it came on to pour. Mr G’s seat collected a
pool and his helmet was drenched from a leak on the roof. Georgie was separated
from her coat so my cape had to be stretched to festoon us both. We were driving
along about 3500 feet above sea level till just within sight of Lake Albert.
We descended pretty well 1200 feet by an interesting, precipitous road
winding past rocks. About a mile from the Lake the van stopped and we were
supposed to take to trolleys. Georgie was the only one who did so however, for part of
the way. About five or a little later we reached the boat, SS Samuel Baker, a paddle
steamer much more comfortable looking than any lake boat we have had except for
the Clement Hill. But the captain had gone out to dinner or was giving a party, I don’t
know which. There are but four Europeans at Butiaba and I didn’t notice their houses.
Anyhow, there was no one to report to, and but for the vigorous proceduring of Mr
Holt who instantly penetrated to the kitchen, we should have had no tea. It was
extremely welcome as we had had nothing since 12.15. Then dinner was served on
deck, the best we have had, save at Mrs Watsons’, since leaving Jinja. There were two
legs of mutton, each about the size of my two fists and a small bit of the […].
Present 1. Mr Morris a young missionary 2. Mr Hurlburt an old one, an
American – 3, 4, 5, 6, the Gunther party, 7, 8 Georgie and myself. Then we arranged
for bed. The cabins crawl it is said, with cockroaches – tho I saw only one, a most
stilted looking one, with long, stiff legs. So we slept on deck, men on the right and
231
Sir Maurice de Bunseau (1852-1932) , ambassador, commissioner and privy counsellor
115
women on the left. We all rigged up nets with the help of each other and (mainly) of
the boys. And heavens, how it rained and lightened [sic].
Tuesday 10th
October continued.
Early this morning – perhaps 4am, all was movement on the deck [with]
people dragging chairs, beds etc into shelter, dragging down mosquito nets. Then we
slept again till about 6am when it was still pouring. Mr Gunther sat up admidst his
very swagger mosquito nets (not pulled down) like a baby in its cot. The whole place,
as Mrs Gunther said, looked like a nursery. At 6.30am Erissa, who calls us madame,
not memsahib, prodded me into action with a cup of tea and then went to Georgie’s
bed, gazed at it disconcertedly, and patted it all over to make sure she was not there.
She had retreated to her cabin.
The boat, due to start about 4am, did not till about 7am. This is disturbing as
the Gunther party, since we wish to go ahead, want us to leave the very afternoon of
our arrival at Nimule, and if we arrive late, it will be the dickens to settle in late and
leave early again next morning.
More immediately trying was the wait for breakfast. The little bit of lake we
had to cross before getting into the Nile was pretty rough and the vibration of this boat
is remarkably great. Consequently I felt I needed packing, so to speak, or else I should
feel the wobbling too much. But it was not till 10 to 9 that we got breakfast from a
bewildered and badgered boy. Poor chap, their boat goes by Sun time, we by
Government time and here the difference is an hour.
We called at Mahagi – a mere handful of native huts with steep hills behind
and along the water’s edge, a narrow and rather alluring path. This village is in the
Congo again. Now we are near the birth of the Nile from Lake Albert. The name of
the village is Panzamur in Lado Enclave232
which is under, but not properly part of,
Uganda – was once administered by Belgium. Left at 2.25pm. Are in the Enclave up
to Rejaf. The missionaries will leave us at Pakwash and safari on a motor bicycle and
sidecar to Arua in the Belgian Congo.
Mr Watson, the PC, Mrs Gunther, Mr McKenzie and Mr Holt (whom they call
Don Folletto, his name being Follet Holt) are playing bridge. They won’t have a four
hander again for some time probably as Mr Gunther does not play. I should have liked
a talk with Mr Watson. He is one of the four PCs of Uganda – of the Northern
province, of which Bunjors, including Masindi, is a district. See Uganda Handbook
9 -14 (NB. if anybody receives this as a letter she can’t - she won’t have the Uganda
Hand Book and I can’t because I have sent mine to Cairo, and Georgie’s is locked
away).
I have been amused since we came on board with the excellence of Erissa the
cook and Mustapha the askari. They are bosom pals with the boys of the other party,
who set them an admirable example of what to do for an employer. At 6.30am they
brought us tea – they got out all our bedding to dry, they put up our beds etc.
232
Region north of Lake Albert which was administered by the Congo Free State from 1894-1909 and
then incorporated into the Anglo-Egyptian-Sudan.
116
When I came out of our unspeakably stuffy cabin this morning where I had dressed as
hurriedly as I could, Erissa met me gestulating and most anxious. Where was the stuff
for my boots “They are very dirty”. Finally I compromised, letting Mustapha polish
them while the roof dripped on my crown. Later when the slight rolling had ceased I
ventured downstairs again. I found him (Mustapha) sitting on the lower deck washing
clothes on the floor with such a quantity of suds as I have never seen before. There
was quite six inches deep of them. He rinsed I suppose in the lake as we passed. We
are now well into the Nile233
. The shore on each side is flat and green and it has begun
to rain – 3.25pm rain ceased as suddenly as it began.
233
Actually the ‘Albert’ Nile
117
Map 8: Detail of ‘Albert’ Nile-Nimule-Rejaf safari route
118
They now leave Lake Albert and go (north) down the ‘Albert’ Nile to Nimule
from where the eight day safari to Rejaf begins. A safari is necessary at this point
because of the many rapids on the nearby Nile, just like on the ‘Victoria’ Nile, which
make both sections of the river impassable by boat. The Nimule route was a well-
travelled route, complete with government rest houses spaced out at regular intervals.
By 1925, the availability of regular motorized transport transformed the mode of
travel.
Tuesday 10th
October cont. We are now going through sudd234
– Nile lilies ie little
green tufted plants like long lettuces,235
and papyrus, all floating. We just push
through it. We have just learned from the captain that six inches rise was sufficient to
save us the rowing boats.
Wednesday 11th
Oct.
Slept like log on deck. All make preparations around rain but none disturbed
us. Hot and sultry but personally I feel that a North wind day such as we have in
Melbourne, and have never had in Africa, would be worse to travel in (written on the
Samuel Baker).
Arrived Nimule 10.30am, ahead of time in spite of starting late. There will
follow dates and hours only, as I have already discovered, Safari does not lend itself
to writing letters or diary. 236
Acting Mamur M. Caran a Syrian. Left Nimule 2pm, the porters half hour
earlier. The Mamur very helpful. Crossed Assia river 6.40-8pm, already dark at 6pm.
Arrived Aju 10pm. Much of trip in dark.
Illus. 24. The type of carrying arrangement used (although without child!) while on safari237
234
In fact this was only Sudd-like territory, a pre-cursor of the area further north called the Sudd (Bahr
al Jabal) is a vast (130,000 kms²) swamp land filled with solid blocks of floating vegetation which
blocked explorers moving southward for many decades. 235
Water hyacinth 236
Because of the lack of mention in existing material on any other safari it is suspected that they
travelled on one when they visited Great Zimbabwe, and perhaps the Morgenster Mission.
119
Thursday 12 Oct.
Left Aju about 8am, the porters and Erissa ahead. Breakfast at Itu 10.30am.
Reached Lado Kirrippi 12.30pm. Scenery from our height238
not dull, distant
mountains. Met Acting DC. N. Baddoura, a Syrian, heard re Greece. Gave him
vermouth, smoked Egyptian cigarettes of his.
Friday 13th
Oct.
Left Kirrippi early, porters and Erissa at 4.20am, we at 5.54am. All day
marching towards great Mt [… …] reminds me of [Cathe…]: Wani Moku (or Moku
only when speaking just of rest house). 10.30am for breakfast. Left 12.15pm. Georgie
very sick due apparently to a slice of pawpaw - arrived Gumbiri 3.45pm.
Sat 14th
Oct.
Left Gumbiri, porters at 6.30am. We arrived breakfastless at 11.30am. Tombé
Mousa Country still quite interesting – long range on left. Nice dry smell of the grass
especially at Gadren Morbe and Fitu Legu, tho bad and mosquitos very bad at Feta
Legu – smell of curry often came from the grass - I noticed it several times.239
Great excitement Erissa told of TM [… …] further on and a runner from Nimule
[……. ….] bringing a letter from Mr Rogers whom we had expected to see on the
boat. The boat had failed to see the signals of his askari and yet we had told the
captain that we expected Mr R to come on board. Unluckily G did not look at the date
of the Mamur’s covering letter, so we don’t know how long it took the gentleman
(clad in white? shirt and white shorts and a brown straw hat like a woman’s but
untrimmed) to come.
The fee for the special messenger was 3/- but perhaps he was cheaper because
he was going onto Rejaf. We gave him a note to give the Mamur at Nimule on the
return journey. I gave him a couple of piastas (5 to the 1/-) for food to get.
Mamur at Rejaf, I V Sabra240
Sunday 15th
Tombé Moussa to Gadren Morbe or Ku...lu []) Left TM 6.15am arrived GM
eight miles and a bit at 9.20am. Amused porters with camera. Two large rest houses,
crowds of natives - the women with steel apron/ and beads – two fowls - sheep that
coughed – 2/- six eggs 1 piasta or 2 ½ everywhere. Erissa made bread, bakes all early
for food. Mustapha always with us.
Illus.25. Sketch of skirt (JW).
237
Pettifer and Bradley, p 83 238
Meaning from being carried 239
Written on torn white interleaf between p. 15 and 16 of original 240
A scribble at top of page
120
Jottings – dress of our natives’ loin cloth - or shorts – or shirt or blanket
looped up over shoulder – nyempasa with straw hat and all no garments ie shirt and
trousers, indescribably dirty.
Monday 16th
October
Gadren Morbe seems to have more character than the other places, in the
distance a range of hills, to the South and another far East with a deep sea blue
Mountain behind shaped like a camel. Arriving early, too, we were there longer and
then experiences with the girls, the gabbling porters, the sheep and the fowls perhaps
make it seem more definite. Then this morning there was a glorious sunrise in two
stages – a long low bank of black cloud that after emerged into mountains and above
dull dark pastel pink and purplish grey with flecks of eau de nil – and small grey
cloud floating low on the mountains looked like a lake. The porters left at 4.40am, we
at 5.45am. We came along in good time. From Gumbari our porters have been a new
tribe, Baria. They are quicker than the others but Mustapha thinks they make too
much fuss.
One of them suddenly let out an impatient frenzied yell. I was afraid that he
would fling down his end and bolt. They seem to know when an hour is up and want a
rest but when at 10am they stopped for the 3rd
time, Mustapha raised Cain, probably
because they were near the next camp. It was soon after then that my carriers whined
so indignantly – two men coming from the camp relieved him and his mate and in ¼
of an hour ie at 10.15am we were at Fitia Legu. En route, a Soudanese askari and
some men accosted us with letters. Neither turned out to be for us but as both were
open I glanced at them. One was a memo to a Mamur or someone to get 105 men, the
other a reply to the request and sent to Rejaf for seventy-five porters for the Gunther
party at Gumbari. The writer had received the request on Saturday only and was
sending an askari to help get men, but protested that in future, the fourteen day’ s
notice must be complied with. G says Mrs Gunther’s story of the telegram not sent is
not quite correct, the true version being that the clerk failed in not letting Mr Watson
know that his telegram on their behalf, could not be sent. He would then have sent a
runner earlier. Whatever the slight difference in cause may be, the party is not to
blame and we are feeling very anxious lest the delay in getting men make them late
for the boat. However, the police station at Gumbari (native only) may be able to help
them.
When we arrived Erissa was in his kanga241
- the first appearance of which
surprised us all – awaited us and told that he could not have the table laid, we having
the table. He soon got us a most satisfactory breakfast of fried Cross and Blackwell’s
Bologna sausages and fried potatoes. Three cups of tea in addition, put us at peace
with the world, especially as he announced that water was on for baths. As no cold
can be added because of guinea worm, we have to wait till it cools and while Georgie
gasps at the heat of what I wallow in, I gasp at what she wallows in, and have to wait
a long time before bathing. She is now bathing. 1.15. Mustapha has distributed the
thirty-five cigarettes to the porters and taken the ten [betio?] for Erissa and himself –
241
Kanga (or khanga) is a length of cloth, worn wrapped around the waist by east Africans (as per
laplap)
121
and Erissa has elected unasked to make a cake. What tosh Mr Gosling talked about
the appalling difficulties and dangers of this trip!
The surroundings of Fitia Legu or Ledju are pretty – blue hills to the South. To
the North East a near hill of rocks and trees reminding me of Macedon. A tall
dignified old gentleman in long kanga and red fez was introduced by M as requiring
medicine for his chest. We gave him lozenges and salts. First between us, we showed
Mustapha (as the situation was beyond our combined Swahili and English) that he
took one lozenge and sucked it – then and not until then - another one and so on. The
salts – kesho, mafewa– ie tomorrow, early. Then Mustapha who is fluent in speech
and gesture, translated. He gulped rapidly, then glared at the chief who with palm
outward, protested against such behaviour; this was evidently the order and promise to
suck slowly. All was incredibly serious and the chief most dignified. Then we took his
photograph. We each tried to take the interior of this rest house with Erissa in
Georgie’s photograph in attendance on me and both Erissa and Mohammed in mine
attending on Georgie. There is a big tree outside under which the porters are gathered.
It is like the noise of innumerable bees. Little huts like this are apparently sleeping
places – like our rest houses on a smaller scale and round, instead of oblong.
Illus. 26. Sketch of hut (JW)
Neither have doors, ours have a hole in each bedroom to serve as a window.
Now that I am as far as possible from Georgie whose bed creaks unmercifully, I am
able to sleep pretty soundly from 8 or 9pm till 3.30 or 4am – and as I am still keeping
up the walking vigorously for an hour at the beginning of each journey I am really fit
today. Went for a little scramble at 4.30pm and would have done more had I a mate
for felt sure that there were no lions or leopards or snakes hereabouts.
Our routine now is to put everything not wanted in the morning into the dining
room, keeping beside us only something in which to put our nightdress and sponge
bags and slippers. Then at dinner a rescue, say a couple of legs of chicken, a slice
each of bread and butter and of bread butter and jam, a little sugar, some milk
(“Ideal”, in tiny tins) and wrap it up – all this, with a thermos of tea or coffee for our
terribly early morning snack, eaten in our carrying chairs and without table. For cups
on these ceremonial occasions we have the aluminium tops of two thermoses, one of
which has been broken and thrown away. Then when the alarm goes, Erissa and
Mustapha see that everything, save what is with us in our bedrooms, is taken. We
dress leisurely – but not carefully – and come out to our chairs. Erissa and the porters
and those carrying food and the other articles depart as quickly as may be – we eat our
122
snack while Mustapha packs the beds and collects odds and ends – then I start
walking. My carriers follow with my chair, Georgie next, probably the other porters.
Mustapha always brings up the rear unless when the porters are resting, Georgie and I
walk on, then he follows us, at first a rather disconcerting arrangement, like having a
footman in attendance. If I march away alone on these occasions I don’t know what
would happen with these Bari porters. With the others, one of the Nubians always
kept behind me.
Both Madi and Baria address us as Momina or Mamina as they do to the
married ladies of their own colour. One always knows in their case whether the title is
justified, for they wear a fail [?] - fringed leather, or hair, or mere branchlets of trees
for each. If one goes for an evening stroll it is rather disconcerting to find one of these
silent footed natives close beside one. “Momina” he says and is very fluent till he
finds I know not his language (Georgie does not go for evening strolls so she does not
share these experiences). Then finding me ignorant he becomes terse tho still
persuasive. “Momina,” he says, Sigare, and if it is not too dark for gesture to be seen,
he puts two fingers to his lips, draws them away, languorously and slowly puffs away
the imaginary smoke – I have one reply which is always quite efficacious for they are
gentle folk. I say the name of the next camp we shall be at, if then the shadowy form
should happen to be one of our porters, it will mean to him, not now, but you’ll get
one at so and so, for we deal out one each day. If he isn’t a porter the answer can be
taken merely as another incomprehensibility of the white folk.
The only other thing to record of the trip generally at present is the good dry
smell of the yellowing elephant grass. Everything has been beautifully green up until
about Gadren Morbe, or at least it was when I noticed it. Like Melbourne to Sydney
grass (tho so much taller), I smelt that homely smell of hay.
Tuesday 17 Oct. Fitia Legu to Nionke [Nymki?]
Last night at Fetia Legu, we absolutely sweltered, it was so moistly and
breathlessly hot until, after we were in bed, Georgie in her small corner, I in mine, a
terrific thunderstorm burst upon us. When the rain began I was full of apprehension
lest the roof should leak, but the lightening and thunder were so startling, even
terrible, and one knows of such dreadful results in Africa, a rest house burnt, a child
killed in its mother’s arms, to say nothing of men we have met hurled across the room
from the telephone, that soon I was thankful for the descending sheets of water that
soaked our roof. I lay between the doorway and the round window hole of my room
and felt as if the lightening were invading me through both of them. Suddenly a long
insidious flash would come, it seemed, along the ground towards the door. The rain
increased as if showering more and more protection on us and then the thunder
crackled, deafened, roared as if a long thunderbolt was travelling Northward over us.
Two claps were so violent and so long that one could hardly bear it. Then after more
lightening, the thunder began, it seemed to cannon around the walls of a narrow dome
immediately overhead as if something enormous, panic stricken and resounding, were
daring the rain to escape; neither Georgie nor I at different ends of the house, nor
Erissa and Mustapha sleeping in the dining room guarding our things, made any
comment but Georgie and I were both rather staggered. But worse was to follow to
me, and nothing dignified or uplifting, just terrifying. I began to be bitten and in
123
Africa a rest house may have in it the [fawnsuede?] tick242
that gives one relapsing
fever. I found nothing, and the cause of the trouble may have been a simple mosquito,
a benevolent fellow whether malarial or not compared with the other horrible thing, or
it may have been sandflies or ants. However, bitten I was, well and truly, fell like a
heroine of fiction into a late and troubled sleep, and woke with the alarm, hot
inflamed and indignant.
The porters left at 4.40am, we at 5.50. I walked for miles, ie to Laro, a rest
camp at what seemed an extremely violent pace. It turned out to be only about three
and a half miles an hour. After a rest, a drink of water from the water bag and a bit of
chocolate, I went on for another half hour and at 8am climbed into my palanquin.
Georgie was in great excitement when she caught up with me at Laro. She diagnosed
some spoor243
I too had noted, as lion. It was then perhaps fortunate for me last night
that I did not wander further. I don’t think my nerves would be equal to the imitation
of Paul Kruger’s exploit. 244
The road was not as thorny as we had been led to fear, but it was rocky and there
was a little river or creek, the Chafaia, that was to be crossed. We arrived at Ngonheat
10.45am and found Erissa much excited.
1.There was a party of natives going Nimule-wards in possession, as I suspect natives
should never be, and they had, or the caretaker had, we did not gather which, had tried
to stop him settling [?] and insisted he should go on.
2.Two porters kept stopping on the road and had thrown down their boxes when he
made them go on. Mustapha soon appeared looking most serious and the two
offenders were presented to us while Erissa showed where he, most virtuously, as he
seemed to think, had kicked Porter A to encourage him. Porter A had come bustling
towards the hut but started limping when thought he could be seen, but beyond this
attempt to appeal for some pity he said nothing - and we told Mustapha to tell them
that if it occurred again tomorrow they would go to the Mamur at Nimule – Gel
kiboko245
. He complied with unction although he is gentler with his fellows than any
other native I have seen – I doubt if he put in the conditional clause.
We had the sausages and potato for breakfast or lunch – tea – bottles as yesterday.
A girl brought water, young and boyish looking but with a [fail?] Surely she has no
child. Erissa has got dinner early – 5.40pm. We have remonstrated with him and will
now sup on dinner tinned tomato soup, chicken, onion, potato and banana fritters.
Hope the porters don’t desert. They were encamped about an empty rest house
opposite ours. We are sure it’s meant for Europeans only, we made Mustapha order
them away. It was not a popular move at all.
18 Oct. Wednesday
What a night! The expected storm did not arrive and we lay and sweltered. We
were in bed very early and at ten I awoke to hear Erissa and Mustapha who, natives or
242
Probably African Tick Bite Fever, which causes acute febrile illness. 243
Any sign, tracks, trace and/or droppings of an animal (Jessie is showing how localized she is!) 244
Referring to the story told to her in Cape Town. 245
Gel kiboko - ??
124
not, sleep in the same rest house as we do, muttering mournfully. The porters were
talking nineteen to the dozen, I had visions that the Gunther party had arrived by a
forced march or that the porters were getting ready to depart. Then Mustapha came
and slept on the veranda at my - the less protected - door. And I returned to attend to
my night en casserole where, like rhubarb and sugar, I supplied my own moisture to
stew in.
The alarm was timed for five but soon after four all was activity. Erissa and
Mustapha, like us had suffered from heat and dudus (insects) and were eager to shake
the dust of Nyamki off their feet. Georgie asked me had I heard the lion roar and I was
infuriated that I hadn’t; then she went on to say that it was because of the roar that
Mustapha had come to sleep at my - the less protected, door. As a matter of fact he
was in search of air, but she is busy idealizing the splendid chap into a Christian
gentleman. He’s a Mahomedan, by the way.
We left at twenty to six by my watch, which was an hour slow later on, but
seems by Georgie’s time to have been approximately right then. I walked for an hour
and forty minutes, then waited for the water carrier (a native who bore the big tin
bottle in its wet flannel covering and also G’s voile bag with a thermos, the top of
which serves us as a tumbler) – this was near the pretty little native village of Kirbas.
These villages are beginning to improve. Seem to have more and better cultivation
about them. Their little granaries are set up high, like beehives. Photographs must
remain undeveloped so long on this trip and we go, think yet, 1,089 miles along the
river from here before we reach even Khartoum, that I am doubtful whether these
mementos will be worth looking at. However, I took several just here, my supply of
film, thanks to my frenzied purchase from Robert Stobo in Tanga246
and at two shops
in Nairobi, being still un-necessarily large. Just beyond the village was a queer
conical hill which turns out, after our considerable windings, to be just near our Rest
House here across the Nile at Rejaf.
After leaving Kirbas where G caught up with us, we crossed the Ket river,
very shallow but wide, say about 100 yards. How the men shuffled up the right bank I
don’t know. It was about perpendicular but they kept our awkward selves and clumsy
carriages quite steady. While they rested from this effort we met a European (?), the
first since Kirippi (last Friday). He was riding a bicycle, told us the Mamur expected
us. Of himself he said he collected some birds – evidently by his speech is a foreigner,
but to me he looked European. After travelling thru very high grass which was
troublesome to the porters, realizing at the sight of a telegraph that we were once
more in touch with the world, seeing bananas again, tho on the heads of two boys, not
on trees. We came at last to our now familiar friend, the Nile, parallel with which we
have been travelling these eight days but alas, not within sight of the rapids that make
travel on it impossible. After a long wait, as the ferry had just gone to the other side
with our advance guard, we were polled across. Rejaf looked pretty. The lawn slopes
up from the river – further along the river and at right angles to it are government
buildings – mud and thatch, but imposing with white unformed Sudanese police.
246
This is the only reference to their stop-over in Tanga, which is a major port south of Mombasa and
on the main shipping route from Zanzibar. He presumably was a relative, Stobo being a family name
125
There we met the Mamur, another Syrian gentleman, who told us he didn’t
know where he was to put the Gunther party as the man we had met, who is an
Egyptian Bey had one, and we are to have the other. Then Mustapha reported, looking
very imposing, if a little like a pouter pigeon, dear fellow, as he stood at the salute.
And so this adventure is over without any of the mishaps predicted having come true.
We had only one shower on march, our porters were obedient, Mustapha, bless his
heart, and Erissa, had done their best for us. In spite of Georgie’s bilious hour at Molo
no one has been really ill, so it is a happy ending to the story. From Mamur to Mamur
or “How we brought the good Georgie from Nimule to Rejaf”.
126
127
Map 9. Sudan and Egypt route
128
Now they are at Rejaf on the west bank of the Nile in the Sudan, awaiting the
‘Omdurman’ to go downstream the Nile proper to Khartoum.
[Rejaf]
The rest houses are further up the slope, more ostentatious than the others,
raised and one and a half feet above the earth veranda and all, but very dilapidated
inside. Luckily the floors are cemented, and luckily the walls come up nearer to the
roof than hitherto. There is a space all around but not much and at night this will be
very airless. We have however, a huge stone jar on the veranda for water. Convicts
escorted by askari keep it filled. They have a big spring of […] in the […] , I don’t
know. No chickens being bought, we dined on tinned stuff chiefly – Julien soup,
sheep’s tongues, potato salad with dressing, neither of these out of tins, peaches and
custard (home made) and tea. In the kitchens there are no ovens – and no chimneys.
On separate little fires the native cook boils water for baths, cooks the meat, soup,
vegetables and possible pudding and so far I have tasted nothing badly smokey and
only once or twice water slightly so. The custard was excellent. Here we have nothing
more than in the other rest houses ie nothing at all – to put things on. Dressing and
bathing is not easy. To that extent we have been roughing it and one gets very dirty
too during the day – but there has been no pigging it, as on the Louis Cousin on the
Congo.
Erissa felt ill and was terribly sorry for himself. We dosed him with quinine
and asperia and the eternal salts, and said we would eat biscuits to save him making
bread – but he sadly insisted on getting out his yeast bottle in preparation for the
morrow, there being enough stale for us to go on with. A sudden noise affrightens our
rustic souls – it was a motor van. Truly we are once more in civilization.
Thursday 19 Oct.
Which of the medicines has recovered him, or whether Georgie’s loan of a
mosquito net to go over his head consoled him more, I don’t know but Erissa was up
and doing about 5.20am, brought us tea, mine very milky, as he had not often had the
task of pouring it out for me and was seeing about food at the market before our ten to
eight breakfast. His English is improving rapidly but I still find it hard when this quite
sophisticated looking individual comes to ask for my soos or soosies or talks of
sheeties and blanketties. (Our Swahili word for a battle ship is manowari and any
thing known only by its foreign name is apt to be provided with an e sound at the
end). Anyhow, we are now provided with an incredibly small leg of mutton, more like
a shank of one of our sheep for tonight, and a large fowl (price 1/5 as against the 2 ½
for the big ones between here and Nimule) for tomorrow.
After breakfast Georgie and I went shopping. Mrs Morris’s parasol had
suddenly broken on me and Mum247
on the banks of the Nile yesterday - it just
inclined its stately head and swooned till it cracked. It had got tugged in the long grass
once or twice and the jerks may have disconnected a line of weakness left by the fall
247
Or possibly the short version of the local name ‘memsahib’, and meaning Georgie
129
out of the ramshackle conveyance at Aberfeldy248
years249
ago in the Orange Free
State. However, we took it to a store where most obliging folk – I am quite unable to
guess their nationality – took it in hand and said they’d try to mend it, though there
was no umbrella mender anywhere in Rejaf. We bought a few articles – soap (our
huge blue and white basket disappeared, the only thing we know of, and of course the
absent Cosia250
is the one Mustapha suggests and we all suspect), ammonia for our
bites, and lime juice for the non-alcoholic Georgie.
Then we went on for G to pay the Mamur for the men from Gumbari to Rejaf,
and for the ferry. The Rest houses had been paid for in advance from Nimule (14/- for
the two of us) sharing [?] together what was paid to both Mamurs. The trip has cost
£17.5 without the chairs which were £4.40 and the food and outfit (chop boxes, iron,
axe, flour, tinned stuffs, rice) for which Mr Morris in Kampala was paid about £17. So
this 94 [.ulls?] or so has been at £38 or £39 – say £40 with incidentals, fairly
expensive. This too omits our well-beloved Mustapha who will have cost Georgie £8
(including fare) and the efficient Erissa, a Buganda who having been in Nairobi, gets
Nairobean wages (£9.5 for wages and £3.10 for fares). Fares have to be paid both
ways of course and their wages up till the time they can reach home in the shortest
time possible. Mustapha gets only his government wage (which has already been paid
to Mr Skinner) and his share of Cosia’s fortnight. Of course they get a present as well,
from me at all events. These domestic details are not my business – still less that of
those to whom these letters may come, but I record it as of possible use to possible
enquirers later on.
The Mamur has invited us to tea with him and the Egyptian Bey whose name,
not pronounced as spelt, is Kheiry – Kh is like the Scotch ch, the rest of the letters like
nothing on earth. The Sudan is under a governor general who has under him five?
Governors. These have Deputy governors and then under these, District
Commissioners of say two districts each. Each district has a Mamur - then the steps
go down Sub Mamur, Chief of Police, police. These police wear white round hats
white tunic and shorts and white puttees and there is a green feather or pompom in
their hats.
So far 1.40pm Thursday, the Gunthers have not turned up. They are supposed
to be a day only behind us and as we got in yesterday morning I am a little anxious for
them.
My hope of seeing Mustapha the Askari, as is the proper way to call him, do
the washing of my cerise scallops has been blighted. Erissa seems to have done them,
Mustapha having washed Georgie’s little pile. However, he may do the ironing. I
snapped him, to his great amusement this morning while washing vigorously at the
camp bath. He and Erissa solve the problem of aching backs and a low tub by sitting
down to wash. They have rigged up a rope and our display of laundry is truly gay.
248
While visiting south of Johannesburg in May, for unknown reasons, presumably to a relative as
there are no other known tourist sites there 249
She just feels that April in South Africa is a very long time ago, given how much they have done
since then 250
Here she is spelling his name as she did originally
130
My face I have not seen for a week. If it in any way resembles my arms which
alas I do see, I don’t want to look at it and did not, even when I took it this afternoon
to have tea with Georgie, the Mamur and the Egyptian Bey at the Mamur’s. These
gentlemen were both in European dress, the Syrian is quite of European type, a nice
fellow. The other is fat and inscrutable, we did not get any interesting information
from him – and when we told him we wished to see the old Roman mines near Quft,
he merely said ‘Good God’. But the Mamur gave us Reuters’ telegrams about the
English Election and the Turkish business.251
Illus. 27. Untitled. Probably a wood station on the Nile
Friday [20th
Oct]
Took Mustapha at 5.30am and climbed the conical hill, very hot work,
perspired violently so that my very dress was wet to the waist. On our return,
Mustapha gave a vivid performance to Erissa of someone fainting with weariness and
being driven on. I asked if he was describing me and he said Apana, mem – no – me I
want sit. Memsahib say, Givendra (go on) - a picture I scarcely recognized but find
gratifying, and it amuses him. From the top we saw a big stone about which Mustapha
told me a long story of which I understood nothing, so we plunged down the almost
vertical hillside to investigate. It was in a little cemetery in which small iron crosses
painted white bore many French and Flemish names, all, I think, of military men, a
relic of the Belgian occupation of the Lado Enclave. 252
The big stone is holy to the natives and offerings of ground nuts (peanuts) are
left there. We reached home after a fine view of the Nile meandering north about 7am
and had breakfast over by ten to eight. It rained heavily just after our return. The
Gunther party arrived at 8.30am having made two stages between Gumbari and
Tombe Moussa, all very fit. Mr G had had a mule for part of the way, and rode in a
chair slung low part of the way from Gumbari [to] here. Still, it is quite a good exploit
for a man obviously over sixty. They had a few adventure […] conditions. One
251
War with Greece 1919-1922 252
A Congo Free State force under Louis Napoléon Chaltin reached the Nile at the town of Bedden in
the enclave in February 1897. Chaltin defeated the Mahdists there in the battle of Rejaf. Perhaps they
were the graves of those killed in this altercation.
131
morning when they were leaving very early, about three, word came in that elephants
were on the march and as much as the party wanted to shoot, they could not set out till
day break for luckily Mr Mackenzie knew about elephants, that they charge lights, he
having often had his camp fire put out by them. When the party went on, the spoor
and the grass showed that about 200 had been along the road. They saw plenty of lion
spoor too but never an elephant or a lion. However, when none of the party with guns
were near enough to secure the trophy, Mr Gunther in his chair, saw a fine warthog
tramp quickly past him. Mrs Gunther had also the dismal experience of putting her
hand into one of her mosquito boots and seizing a frog. Frogs and lizards abound here,
even in their rest tuckles 253
(whatever tuckles sic may mean). G and I watched a
couple of the former try to catch moths diving in and out under the uneven poles of
our very elementary doorway – but so far, thank heaven, have not found them in
anything we prepared to wear.
Saturday 21st Oct.
Yesterday afternoon witnessed a storm in a teacup – we had asked the Mamur
and his friend the Bey to a return afternoon tea at four or thereabouts. At two Erissa
indicated a desire to look for eggs – in company with the Gunther party’s boys. At
3.30pm we desired preparations to begin. No Erissa – no Mustapha, no elderly
gentleman in rags, the nyempasa or headman of the porters who is helping them in
return for a promised present. I’ve called, blown the whistle – useless. At 4pm we
noticed a native in shorts and blue shirt walking thro’ the compound – a little later the
Bey and the Mamur passed and looked in – then Erissa arrived and was greeted with
indignation. He retired hurriedly and soon we saw the return of Mustapha and a few
brief words interchanged between them. Then Erissa came to say that a boy wanted to
know did we expect gentlemen, and on the heels of this, the Bey and the Mamur
arrived. They had not been able to decide whether they had been invited for Friday or
Saturday, had passed to see if we would hail them, and had sent scouts to enquire of
our – absent - retainers. They brought more Reuters, with no news of Greece,
however, and we smoked and had tea which however was not a success as the 5/- cake
Georgie had purchased was dry. However conversation was quite positive – the
Mamur thinks life here makes one “too wild”. He wants to get back to Beirut where it
is “oh very civilized”. He is thirty-five, has been seventeen years in the Government
service so at the end of three years he gets his pension. As he refers also to this happy
event occurring in 1924, dates are a bit mixed up somewhere – I wonder very much
how the administration gets along for Great Britain when so many foreigners help in
it. But the present Mamur here is quite an attractive chap with a nice honest
expression. He was educated at an American college in Syria so does not talk French
as most of his compatriots do. These are educated as a rule he says, by Jesuits.
About ten to six the Gunthers and Mr Holt came to call and the others made
their departure.
After these had gone also, Erissa and Mustapha distinctly under a cloud, went
about their duties with extremely increased efficiency. Their efforts were received in
stony silence. We knew not what to say to Mustapha as there is no language in
common for anything elaborate, but it was clear he felt in disgrace. When he brought
253
tukels, which are small, round mud and grass huts.
132
my bath there were none of the friendly gestulations we indulge in but when I felt the
water and still said nothing he could bear it no longer. Missouri (all right?) he asked
cheerfully and I replied Mustapha, apana missouri. We want tea. Apana Mustapha,
apana Erissa. We alone, Gentlemen to tea, apana Missouri, apana.
This eloquence, which was convulsing Georgie outside, provoked a long
explanation, which as I understood only one word in it (givenda to go), I received
with an embittered shrug. Georgie was merely silent when he got things for her
pathetically, remembering to bring his own rug to hang as a curtain, and in short, the
whole household was plunged into mourning. It was most ridiculous that this
administering of very mild rebuke to our erring ones should depress us also, but it did.
Erissa gave us an admirable dinner which we could not praise and we all went to bed,
most melancholy. This morning tea was got at 6am most noiselessly, mine brought
with just the right amount of milk and when it was perceived that the atmosphere was
changed, both of them revived and Mustapha with his head turned aside, breathed the
word cigarette – none had been given yesterday. I asked him did he dare ask for
cigarettes and he covered his face with his hands. Needless to say they got a box each.
As today is Saturday we sent Mustapha to the Mamur’s office for his rifle
(where he had to give it) up as we wait to take his photo and Erissa’s. This was a
most serious performance, Erissa keeping us waiting while he washed his feet for the
ceremony. He has made buttonies for this afternoon tea of the other party which is
marked for this afternoon – bachelor’s buttons that is.
Today we are beginning preparations to go to the boat on Monday morning.
Georgie was able to sell our lamps, iron, flour, biscuits to one of the Greek shops for
about a 3rd
of the price she gave in Kampala. Jam in tins they would not buy.
Mustapha and Erissa will start to go back, presumably as soon as we have gone. They
are to have a porter as the Gunther boys are being given one and it would never do
after their admirable behaviour, to make them hump their own swags – at least it
would be infra dig for Mustapha who has his rifle and bayonet to carry. I shall feel
sorry never to see his jolly [childish?] countenance again.
Today has been wildly gay – indeed. In Rejaf we may be said to have gone the
pace, one day tea at the Mamur’s, the next the Mamur and Bey to tea with us, an extra
visit, so to speak, from the Gunthers and Mr Holt and then today, Mr Holt and the
Gunthers to tea with sardine sandwiches and buttonies, and, as a grand finale, Morris
the Missionary arrived from Aba in the mission motor van, and was invited to dinner.
Erissa rose nobly to the occasion except that he protested lack of saucepans when I
asked for the salmon hot with white sauce and we had canned tomato soup, salmon,
roast mutton, onions and two potatoes, our last, tinned pears, buttonies, biscuits and
cheese and coffee. At lunch we even had quite a liberal supply of cream culled by
Erissa from the fresh milk we get here in bottles brought in a basket on a woman’s
head. 2 ½ per bottle (cow’s milk). Mr Morris brought fruit for us which he had left
with the Gunthers.
Sunday 22nd [Oct.]
Word has reached us that the Omdurman would be in this morning at nine and
we heard its whistle considerably earlier. So we have spent a violent morning packing.
133
Before eight, I think, an askari with a string of perfectly naked coal black porters
arrived. Some affected such fripperies as a band of something below the knee, or a
necklace with a disk, but only one wore clothes and the rest nothing. We were not
ready for them so they squatted in the sand until we were, when they went to take the
Bey’s things from the resthouse opposite. He too kept them waiting but finally we
departed. Georgie had business with the Mamur, so Mustapha in undress, carrying
my open basket, Erissa armed with cameras, twenty black nudes, the askari in white
bearing my spear, as most befitting to his warriorship I suppose, and myself, in blue
and white to complete the contrast, marched down to the boat. I have never seen so
many natives in this savage condition of clothing as today.
The paying off of Erissa and Mustapha was effected by Georgie, apparently to
their satisfaction as each thought he was being given something for the other. One
feels anxious lest they should waste their fare money but Erissa, who is the more
sophisticated, is very fond of Mustapha – like us and his old friends here who greeted
him with such enthusiasm, will perhaps be able to look after himself and Mustapha
too. I gave M a metal cigarette case and he chanted his thanks in the most caressing
tones, then brought it back and with gestures seemed to inquire if matches could be
stuck on it. I shook my head, but later he and Erissa appealed to Georgie and all three
came to me with a request for a chit. It seems that a native in possession of such a
treasure would be suspected of theft, so I wrote a note, this cigarette case belongs to
Mustapha, I gave it to him as a present on Safari, signed and sealed it and all was
well.
Erissa told Georgie we were good memsahibs. We laughed. And Mustapha,
bidding me farewell, made his hand into a sort of entrée dish and with one of mine in
the middle waved them gently up and down. Probably they and the Gunther’s ‘boys’
will have a glorious time going home, except that they want to hurry because of
“dudus”. They can’t get porters today, the Mamur says, as these are all required for
the ship – we don’t sail till 5am or thereabouts tomorrow but have all come on board.
We lunched well and the waiters, Arab looking folk in Turbans, seem efficient but at
present the ship is not clean. The Bey, to whom I mentioned the noise the natives
make in their work, said: they are not paid much, which seems quaint.
The engineer, Mr Wells, a young man not long out and on his first trip on this
part of the river, seems to be the person to whom to appeal for all information. There
is a Belgian or Swede in Belgium’s service at our table to meals in shirt sleeves so we
feel gratified at the presence of this engineer. Poor man, his wife has just had a baby
and has gone mad. He is taking her home. A native woman helps with the baby. This
native girl is in the ordinary native dress of coloured cotton stuff wound around her
but looks different from other native women. I think it is her hair which is long and
frizzy and done with a little knob at the back. The wife was at the mission hospital of
Mr Morris and attended by an American missionary doctoress who says she thinks she
could have pulled her through in a fortnight or so. But the Catholics, who have great
powers in the Congo, got at the husband and made him take her away. However, this
maybe, there is not political rivalry between Catholic and Protestant here by all
accounts – just religion.
After afternoon tea at which once more the detested Marie biscuit reappeared
– it seems to be an international dish in Africa - Mrs Gunther and I climbed the
134
conical hill, found a pot of red paint up there and added our initials to the many others
there. I grunted and puffed going up, not so Mrs Gunther who is in good trim. Coming
down, what with long wet elephant grass and rocks, it was very slippery and we
arrived at the boat hot and dirty. The bath tho hot was extremely muddy, with the mud
the solution that makes the cotton grow in Egypt. Had a talk with Mr Holt. He is in
full accord with the British policy which takes 10/6 out of every pound he earns in
order to pay off Britain’ s debts to foreign countries although admits that this has
meant curtailment of expenditure and enterprise and lack of employment. He wants
more women in Parliament for committee work on social questions of all kinds. Mrs
Gunther tells me he has, as an engineer, built many of the railways of which he is now
director. Missionary pineapple for dinner. Our beds have holland sheets and pillow
cases – rather ugly.
The beginning of the final ‘run’ to Cairo on the Nile via Khartoum, Abu
Hamad and Wadi Halfa. .
Monday 23rd
Oct
Was awake when the boat started on its 1,089 miles to Khartoum – it goes at
good speed, but all is very uncomfortable and we can see little but papyrus because of
heavy rain. My watch too has gone feeble and stops every now and then. Still, it has
done well up to now, and there is a most comforting smell of toast in the offing. Have
stopped once – at Juba. Mr Holt says that the country here is extraordinarily like
Paraguay. About 8 o’clock passed and bumped into SS Tamai, on which an officer
commanding appeared in jade green and purple pyjamas, glasses and gumboots or
mosquito boots with green canvas tops. He is rather like Professor Tucker.254
Later, our Belgian has been moved and another man, a Mr Bridge who has an
area of 800 miles to look after with regard to Post and Telegraphs, has taken his place
at our table. He tells us the pyjama gentleman is Woodlands, Governor of Mongala,
and one of the best if not the best Arabic scholars in the country. He was a wrangler 255
in Mathematics, but is, he says, mad going among the natives with nothing on but a
shirt, and, departing, from sheer caprice, without an engineer to go up the river in his
boat. This boat can have guns, it was used, with the guns in place, when the Lado
enclave was taken over from the Belgians, just in case of trouble.
We reached Mongala round about 11 am. Ugly brick buildings and all sorts of
natives – some in European dress, some in nothing, others swathed variously. Some
native official has just past sic with a straw hat cocked up with a cockade of red and
green, like a Scotch thistle. The rest of the attire is white – Turbans abound. A barge
has been taken on – we are now sandwiched between two of them which blocks the
view unduly. On the barge next to the shore, a very black woman (probably Sudanese)
draped in blue is sitting in a chair like ours. Several men wait on her from time to
time. Four huge sticks of sugar cane have been brought and laid beside her on the
254
Thomas Tucker, professor of Classical Philology, Melbourne University (1886-1919) 255
Wrangler – in Mathematics, an old English term for someone with prizes in the subject
135
ground and on her knee sits a small very black child in a dingy little shirt of green
black and white with a gorgeous orange silk hankerchief knotted around its head.
Mr Bridges asked her to show me the baby but she turned her head away, then
he asked an askari to ask her who replied that her husband, not having given her
permission, she feared his anger if she showed the baby.
In the afternoon we reached Sum-Suma, a wood station where we remained all
night. With Kabola, Tanga, Fitu Legu and one or two other places, it will be indelibly
associated in my mind with mosquitos.
A Captain Bostock, who is giving up his command of […] to take over a
Sudanese regiment, has come on board with two beautifully fine little dogs, rather like
long grey hounds, at least their heads are. They are called Nyum-Nyum dogs from the
tribe that breeds them. The breed has been kept pure – they are raised for hunting and
eating. The captain, a slight, nice looking man, who reminded me in appearance of
Miss Gilman Jones, is a most aggressive person in manner, tho’ this may be due to a
sort of nervousness.
We dropped Mr Brookes, the postal man, at Bor, a still more mosquito-
stricken place than the rest. There were plenty of lights not due to the little crowd
assembled on the landing. Khiery Bey tells [that] they are part of the preparations for
celebrations of Mohamet’s birthday on the 29? Oct. I bought Poole’s book ‘The
Harbour’ from the library for 14 piastres (5p.to the shilling) and like it so far, very
much.
Illus. 28. Untitled. Appears to be at one of stops along the Nile in the Sudan (JW)
25th
[October]
Heard faint sounds of the unfortunate lady singing or crying. Woke to find a
queue of mosquitos waiting to enter my net, and lay long to try and wear them out.
Learnt at breakfast that at different periods of the year people in gov. service get
increased pay from varying places south of Kosti (two days out from Khartoum). At
present the Commander of the boat gets 2/- a day extra, the sailors two milliones?
136
(which is appreciable for them, not us). Wrote postcards before breakfast. This is the
White Nile Travelling Post Office and letters etc stamped here will bear these initials
or some of them. At present Mr and Mrs Gunther, G and myself are in the mosquito
room on deck, but the river winds so very much it is hard to dodge the sun – one no
sooner moves into the shade than it becomes the sunny side. There is some
amusement over my fortunes to reach me, though how, it would be hard to say, on the
28th
. An Indian at Kampala whom I refused the privilege of telling my fortune for £2,
on the score of my being too poor, replied, Ah yes, perhaps now Madame, but on the
28th
Oct --! so £700,000 is what I am expecting - - !
We have just turned a hairpin curve in the river which is here so narrow the
boat seemed to block it and to be incapable of getting round. On each side of us is a
wide expanse of papyrus, creeper (with occasional flowers like convolvulus) or a few
shrubs. It is all on swamps which together with evaporation, accounts for so much
wastage of the Nile. It is now a much smaller river than nearer its source.
After the fires of the dry season the banks are more interesting we are told
because of the game [being] visible. This morning Georgie saw a school of hippo, six
in all, tho she saw four only. I was busy with a school of mosquitos, in my cabin.
Today we have been in the Sudd practically ever since Bor. The river takes
almost hairpin curves. About 4pm we came to Shamba or Shambe, a god-forsaken
spot where no European lives we are told. A huge dead crocodile lay on the bank, one
of the most hideous things I have ever seen. After we left (some long horned cattle
were taken on board) Colonel Bostock (the man like Miss Gilman Jones) gave us
some five gramophone records till long after dark – Eames, Wagner, Chopin etc. He
was telling us of a photograph he had got of a hanging the other day, so after his
records I enquired why he took such a photograph. He maintains it was far worse to
photograph a woman who was trying to get a divorce as the English papers do. I
maintained Gov actions were quite uncivilized and he that the blacks who were
hanged would be quite flattered. These men had murdered a merchant and according
to the Bey, as this Captain is called – he is in the Egyptian army – were converted
with cigarettes and food by Italian missionaries a day or two before they were
executed. A missionary took the photograph also, for their mission paper, not as a
protest against the killing but in order to - somehow - comfort their readers with the
fact that the men had become Christians in time. How much their conversion meant
however, may be guessed from the fact that they spent their last night singing
cheerfully “we are brave men, we killed the merchant”.
After dinner we had a talk to the captain or whatever is the title of the
Engineer, the only white man of the crew: his parents were Welsh and Irish, and one
of his grandparents was a Jew. He is a fine big fellow with a long face and long nose
that may be a bit Jewish; he goes on his way placidly, and listens cheerfully to the
undeserved criticism of his catering with which Colonel Bostock favours him. Like
many others eg young Lloyd at Fort Portal he suffered from the slump in Engineering
work in England, and after working for Cadburys, who are splendid he says to work
for, and giving it up, unwisely, for something that seemed better but was not, he came
out to this service. It is graded, his is grade V. The best positions are I, II, III, and it is
rarely anyone gets from IV or V to these. Promotion comes by salary however, and a
man in a lower grade may get as much as another in III, tho the maximum in II would
137
be greater than the maximum of V or V. The captain sees some scope for himself
ahead as by transference to the Irrigation or Agricultural Depts. An engineer may get
promoted to the higher grades. As far as the army is concerned here in the Soudan,
and also the Immigration Department, it is paid for by Egypt – the taxes levyable in
the Soudan pay for govt. officials only. Labour being difficult to secure, the Sudan
railways have had, I gather, to be worked by the military, a railway battalion. Salaries
in the Egyptian army are high: the Bey (English) gets about £1000 a year and there is
talk of an extra £200. The Egyptian Bey, the engineer; will also, according to the
Captain, be very highly paid and he does work in the Soudan ? therefore why
Northcliffe256
saw that it was time facts were faced and the word ‘Egyptian’ dropped
in the title ‘Anglo-Egyptian Sudan
Illus. 29. Untitled. It would appear to be a wood station loading point in the Sudan. (JW)
Thursday 26th
Oct.
Up later than usual, not being out til 7.10am – still wandering through Sudd
which extends on our left for some 16 miles and on our right we can see trees so its
extent cannot be great. This swamp acts as a sponge and the Egyptian Bey tells us that
sometimes 2/3 of the water is absorbed by it and only 1/3 left. The papyrus growing in
it is about 80% water. Before the war a German firm was trying to make briquettes
out of it, but tho the war prevented a fair trial of their methods, the quantity of water
in the papyrus makes it very doubtful whether the scheme would pay. I shouldn’t like
to be one of the pioneers to collect the papyrus, crocodile and pythons being among
the inhabitants of the Sudd – we have just seen a huge hippo bathing – hitherto I’ve
seen only their heads in the river but this chap showed his back as well. Lighter in
colour than I expected and rather like a very big pig.
Mrs Gunther, who is sitting writing near-by, has just told me a little more
about her visit to Rhodesia, which is typical of the place but quite unlike anything we
saw in our hurried trip there. She was on the company’s big Estate there of over a
million acres (all under Mr MacKenzie but divided into about twenty sections with a
young Englishman managing each). She went out shooting one morning and
encountered two doe water buck and one calf. They were all trembling and came
256
Presumably Viscount Alfred Northcliffe (1865-1922), British journalist and newspaper publisher
138
within a foot of them so terrified they were. The man with Mrs Gunther interpreted
instantly “Dog” and raced up a kopje. She followed and came on to a group of wild
dogs, two sorts hunting together which is very rare, one sort like a collie, the other
reddish brown. They had the other calf and were worrying it – Mrs G or the man
fired, killing one and the rest fled, and though they pursued, they got no more. On
return the calf had gone so had presumably recovered. The dogs which Mrs Gunther
was lucky to see as they are rarely visible in the day time, are one of the curses of
Rhodesia and do far more damage to cattle, than, for instance, lions, for the lion kills
and eats one, where the dogs in a few minutes maim vitally ten or twelve bulls.
Later. The day has passed peacefully without a stop. We shall have been
thirty-six hours at least between Bor and Tombe,257
our next calling station.
Talks with the Bey and with the captain who is a simple youth, much
concerned, without priggishness, lest a lady ‘Missionary’ of twenty-three whom he
took to Rejaf on his last trip (whom I saw for a minute, a pretty girl) should have
fallen in love with him. I suggested that it was his soul to be saved that interested her
and he replied, even so, if she is, and doesn’t get it, it’s a nasty trick, then he groaned
quite seriously.
Added on Friday 27th
– Colonel Bostock gave us a concert with his
gramophone till 10pm or later. We sat on the top deck, the gramophone at the front
end, a dun figure with extraordinary legs (mosquito boots) moved about, putting on
the records. We could see the banks on either side, felt the lame tramp of the paddle
that came down more heavily on one side than the other, felt as if we were being
drawn along on an invisible stream and heard the Valkyrie and whatnot played or
sung to us. It was very cool too.
[Crossed out para] 10.30am have just passed two natives in the Sudd, perched up on
a hut or something nearly hidden by the papyrus – don’t know how they got there or
what possible sort of life they can lead. The Nile here is only about three times as
wide as the boat. Just after lunch saw some water buck which are supposed to be rare
on left ie east side of the boat. [End of crossed out para]
Friday 27th
[Oct.]
A damnable night. Woke oozing at every pore, heard the poor woman singing
in the very early morning, and evidently tossed my mosquito curtain a little for when I
woke again, I had been amply bitten even on the eye – I could not dress quickly
because stockings had to be taken off again and again to rub bites on toes and ankles.
It is now about 7.30am. We have been paddling for some time between low
banks on which is grass, not papyrus, therefore solid soil, and are just arriving at
Tonga. The country is now forest land, tho the trees do not here come near to the
river.
Tonga has a small brick building near the river. Out of it, natives in white
robes brought praying mats of varying colours but Kheiry Bey says better are
257
Tombe is actually south of Bor.
139
obtainable at Omdurman, and Captain, not Colonel, Bostock speaks of some place
further along the river, so we purchase none. Georgie and I played our baby bridge till
lunch (Bridge patience). Meanwhile we passed the Sobat junction, water clearer now.
At 1.30pm we stopped at Tenfikia (stress now on penultimate) where the guide book
assures us Sir Samuel Baker258
had his head quarters in 1867? But it is far too hot to
care.
Before tea we reached Malakal. Two little settlements near each other, the
most southerly the military, the other the civilian. The people here are Shilluks259
and
have sometimes a most curious style of hairdressing. The hair (men’s) is coloured
brown like a door mat, with mud? and spread at the back over a frame till it looks
somewhat like a Breton cap. I took photos but the ornate ones were in the shade and I
have doubts of the results.
Two men are washing clothes in two tin dishes by the river and drying the
clothes on the bank. One man has on a brown bracelet above the elbow of his right
arm, a tin coloured one on his left wrist, his hair is dyed brown, and round it a fillet of
green, while he also has a necklace like Queen Alexander’s, but green also. No
clothes on.
The doctor has been wired to come on board here for the poor Swedish
woman. Later. He came, told the husband to get her to Khartoum as soon as possible
and not go further.
A terrific storm came on - with hail. This year there has been hail several
times but not before for sixty years. Called at Lul.
Saturday 28th
[Oct.]
Awakened by captain about 1 o’clock. He – are you awake, it’s the 28th
. We
were at Kodok (ie Fashorda260
) and I’d have got up to see it by moonlight but that I
thought we’d be there till the morning, the engineer having “a job of work” there to
measure a cracked piston or something so it could be replaced from Khartoum.
However, I saw only some lights thro’ my mosquito net, for this morning when I was
dressing, we were already leaving Melut. Dr Trudinger of the mission came and
Georgie went off with him, had tea and now scones at 7 o’clock no less.
After Melut we stopped at Kaka where we saw some mats, and in the
afternoon, at Shokaba for more wood. Nothing is very striking, except the hair
dressing of the Shilluks, and the obvious mixture with Arabs shown by the refined
features of many natives – wearing also the gelabeah of the Arab. We had another
smaller storm in the afternoon while we were getting wood at Chukane. We saw and
photographed a weird native dance in which men and women both performed – it
consisted of rather graceful movements with arms raised, then most vigorous jumping.
258
Samual Baker, the Explorer (1821-1893), who with his wife Florence, contributed to determining
the source of the White Nile. It was 1870 that they had their base at Tewfikeeyah to capture slave boats
and free slaves 259
Shilluks, a Neolithic people 260
Fashoda was the site of an incident in 1898 when the French (through Marchand) and British
(through Kitchener) famously resolved a territorial conflict by diplomacy, not war.
140
The Egyptian officer sleeps in his cabin it is said with his enormous wife, a
child and a handmaiden. I wonder they don’t all choke. He sits in the ‘sandal’ (barge)
away from us – this barge has been made a sitting room as its upper deck is empty.
At night G has a headache and went to bed early. Called at Galhak – very
picturesque in the darkness. A big native boat with a mast for a huge sail lay by the
shore. Under a beautiful tree stood a group of white robed natives or Arabs. The grass
was high but a sort of path ran down to our gang-way or thereabouts and Arab-like
people came along and on board bearing lit hurricane lamps or safari candles. These
are splendid things of which I hope to remember to bring a specimen to Australia.
Illus. 30. Sketch of ‘safari candle’ (JW)
The captain’s comments on Mr Gunther, after our united efforts to amuse him had
resulted in a cordial, “How remarkable” and then silence, was, “Mister Gunther is not
a conversationalist”.
Sunday 29th Oct.
Cooler night and fewer mosquitos in my cabin. Called at Renk (here it said
that true negroid races cease, further north are all Arab natives) about 3am and on
rising found a new passenger, a Mr Majall, who had been in bed and asleep when the
boat’s whistle woke his people, who woke him and sent him running for a mile to
catch the boat. It was due about 11 am. The Manager, Mr Nankovitch, tells me the
baby died last night. How he lived so long in that cabin I don’t know. It has never
been brought out during the day at least; tho it’s on the same deck with us, we have
not seen it. The wife has twice tried to throw herself overboard.
We stopped at a wood station and reached Gemalien about 1.30. Saw camels
for first time, as it is the furthest south they come.
Later. The baby is being buried here. The father, a pale unfinished looking
Swede, declined the captain’s offer to read a service, saying it would make no
difference. Surprisingly, Captain Bostock, who rails aggressively at religion,
missionaries and so on and is tryingly ‘young’, is much disturbed, says a white baby
should not be buried in a blackman’s […] like a dog and went for his coat and tie and
has accompanied the little party to the grave. We were sitting on the barge when
suddenly natives appeared on the gangway below us carrying a basket with mosquito
net over it – then came a few people – the captain, the father, some official from the
141
village and Captain Bostock and they are burying the poor little thing under a tree
some hundred yards beyond the village and further along the bank – they are so long
that they may after-all be having some service.
The Harem woman appeared unveiled at the door of her cabin. She looked
plain and fat but European, quite white. The procession is now coming back – a lot of
natives in flowing robes have joined it. The women here are very black and wear dark
blue which is not becoming to them. All are very tall and thin. One man and woman
met and embraced most warmly, not kissing but leaning their heads together – others
touch hands and then kiss their own hand. Evidently we have been waiting for the
funeral for now the whistle has gone and the gangways are being pulled in.
A conversation between Captain Bostock and Mr Majall, an inspector
(virtually a DC) of the district round Melut: The Dinkas are a bad tribe there – won’t
work, have no pride of race etc – the fault due to bad chiefs who are hereditary, tho
the succession does not go from father to son necessarily. The Shilluks are better
people. It is they who affect the felt fan arrangement of the hair, tho sometimes the
Dinka copy them. There is an interesting brochure on Shilluk customs by “a chap
with a Hun name”.
The villages we stop at have all flags flying and a number of what look like
May poles in honour of the birth of the Prophet. But his birthday is given as the 29th
Aug. in the guide book – Captain Bostock explains that there is a difference of ten
days in the time of the festival every year.
At night we went through to the Bridge at Kosti – a most interesting
experience. The reis - one of the natives who do all the navigation of the boat, Berbers
generally – managed it most skilfully. It was moonlight, and the river very wide with
a strong current. The bridge at first looked like a black line blocking the river, but
resolved itself into a huge structure of about twelve spans – a solid pier in the middle.
Two spans, one on each side of the pier, had been swung around so that a way on each
side was clear for the boat to go through – for it could not go under the bridge. To me
it seemed improbably we should, three abreast as we were ie the boat with a barge on
each side as well as in front, be able to pass. The current too was running slightly to
the left, against the pier. So the reis headed the boat for the second span on the right of
the opening, and let the boat drift round till we gently touched the pier for a moment
and then just slipped through the opening. It can be done with two barges on each
side, the captain says, but he considers the reis a first rate sea or rather water-man. He
has been twenty-five years on the river. Georgie bucked about, saying “neat, very
neat” in great excitement.
Captain Bostock and his dogs got off here. I had forgotten he was to do so and
did not photograph the animals which is a breed I’ll never see again.
It was extraordinarily hot. I had a hot bath in the afternoon and came out after
dressing nearly desperate; my neck was so red and moist that it looked like it was
bleeding. Sat on deck till about 11am, a record. Georgie went to sleep. I talked to Mr
142
Mackenzie whose views on labour would make Smilie love Dorothea Spinney261
in
comparison with him.
30th [Oct.]
Packed – got the Farash (the cabin ‘boy’) to look for a mislaid pound note
which he discovered under my tallboy. Stopped at Kawa opposite which there was a
first glimpse of desert. The Nile is flooded here – many of the trees or the forest as a
wood seems to be called here are under water.
During the day the typical mud walls of the Arabs began to be seen; tho’ there was
some greenery the desert could be seen beyond. At night it was most impressive to see
the width of the Nile. We seemed to be sailing in a wide bay and bays are often
smoother.
Illus. 31. The Nile in flood and first glimpse of the desert opposite Kawa (JW)
Talked to the captain about the war at night. He is one of the disillusioned
young men. He is one of a million (he said) [who] believed Lloyd George’s promise
to make England “a land for heroes to live in” and says that the great wars of the men
have gained nothing at all, labour conditions being worse instead of better. We called
at Duerrn and Geteesia. We are ahead of time. The bridge was opened because of
important passengers (the Gunthers) and sickness (the Swedish lady’s) and otherwise
we should have had to wait outside.
31st Oct. Tuesday
Arriving ahead of time. Reached Khartoum and letters before lunch. The
Director of Transport who has received or read some letter of introduction of
Georgie’s took us from the boat in his motor launch to the river steps of the Grand
261
Smilie and Dorothea Spinney: John Smilie (1741-1812) was an Irish-American Philadelphia
politician who was an outspoken opponent of slavery and proponent of Rights. Dorothea Spinney was a
noted English actress who toured Australia performing Shakespearean plays and Greek tragedies, in the
early part of the C20. The reference may be that Mr McKenzie had extremely right-wing views on
labour which would have appalled Smilie and that this was a tragedy.
143
Hotel. The Chief of Police and Mr Lion262
the very aristocratic looking gentleman
(and haughty too) who runs it, took us to the celebrations in honour of the birthday of
the prophet. Motor launch to Omdurman263
– donkeys – pink drinks – lots in each
Government pavilion and refreshment ‘room’. Dancing dervishes – home after
midnight. Mr Whitehead to lunch and Mr Crowfoot called after tea and took two
films.
Wednesday 1 Nov.
Holiday in honour of Mohamet. Went over Gordon College264
. Mr Crowfoot,
Mr Whitehead and a Mr – who professes Arabic and teaches History.
Thursday 2nd Nov.
Arabia to Chemists for photos - negatives good - at various bt. […] box; went
to bank; medical dept, rapidly dismissed; railways re our berths etc to Shillal all fixed
up. Are going to dinner with Mr Crowfoot tonight and Mr Whitehead on Sat.
11.15pm Dinner a success. Mr Crowfoot, classical student as well as Director
of Education and principal of Gordon College knows about Mycenean pottery – has
helped trace Roman routes in Asia Minor – says to visit Palermo and C sic for
Normans as well as the rest and then to Ravenna for Justinian. There were present Mr
Lyle (or Lyell) act. governor and his dog, Mr and Mrs Husey, Mr Grabham, Capt.
Whitehead as well as our host and ourselves. Mr Lyles’ dog Mollie took a dislike to
us both and I know, very much we frightened her.
Friday 3rd Nov.
Left at 6.30am to Omdurman with the Dragoman.265
1. Train with steam
engine 2. ferryboat, the Evylyn – 3. steam-engine train again at Omdurman to the
market - ivory and silver, the women’s – the live market and then by train on return
journey to the Khalifa’s house266
, Mahdi’s tomb267
and Stalen Bey’s house, all near
Mahdi Square where the [Muder?] was held. At that rabbit warren called the
Khalaly’s house, saw Gordon’s carriage, several canon, the pistols and rifles of the
Dervishes (which our guide rather bewilderingly called revels) further on. In his house
proper we met an extraordinarily friendly young Englishman who had just come in
from Kassala268
– at all events an outlying district.
262
Lion - Lyons? 263
Omdurman, North Khartoum and Khartoum form the three ‘sister cities’ at the confluence of the
White and Blue Niles 264
Named after Charles George Gordon (1833-1885) who followed on the work of Baker by
establishing way-stations from the Sobat Confluence to the frontier of Uganda, became Governor
General of the Sudan and un-successfully led the defence of Khartoum in 1884 against the Mahdi, in
which he was killed and be-headed 265
Dragoman, guide and translator 266
The Khalifa succeeded the Mahdi. The house was built in 1887 and contains some interesting
features of the time 267
The Mahdi, Mohammed Ahmed, (1844-1885) led the rebellion against Gordon but died the same
year 268
Kassala, a cotton growing area near the Red Sea, east of Khartoum and inland from Port Sudan
144
Hot – very busy – back by 1.15 - lunch and sleep, after which felt execrable.
Nice friendly Englishman in the Khalif’s house proper. We had to see Gordon’s plans.
About 4.50pm went for our photos but they were not ready.
Saturday 4th Nov.
Most interesting visit to the museum of the Gordon College where they have
some exhibits from Dr Reisner’s Sudan excavations especially of Meroe. Merowe and
Meroe are different but I gathered both Ethiopian, Meroetic culture being the culture
that has had its headquarters at Merowe but was pushed further South and flourished
in the Ptolemaic period. The Kirma excavations belongs to the more flourishing.
Ethiopian period. Mr Andrews or Anderson of the Museum showed me over. I was
very taken with the duck chair and [bed ?] leg. Then Mr Hillelson, history lecturer,
but chiefly interested in linguistics, showed me over the college while G meanwhile
‘did’ entomology and a Vet. department at some distance from the college.
Dinner with Capt. Whitewood [sic Whitehead] at the Officer’s mess – open
air. Captain (Dr) Clayton or Vaughan, Capt. Warne, and Capt. Gateman also present.
Arrived 8.15, left 10 to 11 and had an interesting time. Captain Warn has been at the
Gold Coast before the war – all were very young.
Sunday 5th Nov.
Packed – caught train leaving Khartoum about 6pm. The Gunthers and Mr MacKenzie
also did so, Mr Holt having left on Wednesday. Dinner on board and played Bridge
[until?]11. Mrs G and I v G and Mr McKenzie – who each lost 2 sh. My first
winnings at cards.
We are on one of the sleeping birth cars – and have a compartment each tho at
times two can be put in. Therefore have much more room than ever before and slept in
comfort tho for a very short time. Curious dream of exquisite singing which I heard
two or three times. The singer sang out of doors and after I woke up I recognised that
the vision was like Mrs Gunther’s song tho’ not her – (written on Monday).
Monday 6th Nov. (written Monday)
Are passing thru’ desert at first. Rose about 6.30am, breakfasted and saw that
we were then near the Nile, on our left cultivation strips on the further bank. On the
other side of the train, desert only. Abu Amed [Hamad] where I took a photograph at
16 and a 50th then we soon left the river and desert extended on both sides – hills,
bare rocky hills with glaciers of sand ran sometimes on both sides, and near midday –
perhaps longer – the hills stood in little clear lakes of pale blue mirage – we saw a
little in Omdurman and could not believe it wasn’t water at the end of a side road till I
saw something, a man or animal I forget which, walk across it – Stations here have
numbers not names – are of tin - and are dreary looking enough to be a sort of station-
convicts.
Added Tuesday. Played bridge from afternoon-tea time, won 7sh! We reached
Halfa camp in the evening and waited there till morning because it was cooler, then
145
Wadi Halfa itself. This seems extraordinarily sensible of a state owned railway
management. G’s neuritis bad.
Illus. 33. “The Nile in flood and first glimpse of the desert opposite Kawa” (JW)
Tuesday 7th Nov.
Came on to Wadi Halfa - our boat not ready as it had had to go to the
assistance of another boat and was now coaling. A very sensible set of porters to
whom we give backshish only, they apparently being paid by the railways – I was
rushed thru’ by the chief engineer and was on board the Britain in no time. G’s
neuritis bad. Mrs G introduced the governor who, pointing to the skyline on the west
bank of the river, said that it used, in the Madhi’s time be common to see horsemen
riding along them shaking their spears at the English. The fort of W.H. was an
advance post for long. Kitchener 269
here for a considerable period. The Dervishes
knew all abut the forces’ habits apparently - knew that Friday was the washing day of
the Sudanese troops and one Friday galloped into the town, killed a few folk, got
plenty in loot and galloped away again while the troops were busy at the river.
Mr Lion, father of Mr Lion at the GH, is manager here – much less aristocratic
than his lordly son. After lunch we passed Abu Simbel, where are a group of temples
hewn in the living rock of Rameses Π, the chief to celebrate his victory, which was
not a real victory, over the Kheta tribes of North Syria. As we were late we could not
stop and so just tried to photograph from the boat - pretty hopeless- even at this
distance most impressive, tho ugly. The four huge figures by the door way could be
plainly seen but were in shadow. One much damaged. We had previously seen on the
south side of the river a doorway cut in rock – it was stimulating to the imagination –
one felt one could picture funeral barges bringing the body to that gate way. The
country is most extraordinary – it reminds me of South Africa or the Gr Au D270
especially, desert being subst. for veldt and bare hills for grassyness. At one place it
looked as if the childhood of the gods had been passed there, the relics of their
gigantic sandcastles and mud pies remaining.
Along each bank is a strip of cultivation, now wide now narrow, very green
and pleasant, palms grow too and other … coloured houses hardly distinguishable
from mole coloured hillock or hill in the back ground. The water wheels make variety,
for by them are workers in light navy blue linen robes – occasionally people with red
shirts and some dark coat – men or women I don’t know which. Then there are black
robed women walking in the desert at times.
[Abrupt end of Diary Record]
269
Lord Kitchener (1850-1916), had a railway built from Wadi Halfa across the Nubian dessert to Abu
Hamed to support the Battle of Omdurman, which the British won in 1896. This route is much shorter
than the one taken by the circuitous and cataract–ridden Nile. 270
Presumably the Great Australian dessert
146
2.3 TRANSCRIPT OF ANOTHER LETTER Covering part of the time spent in Cairo while staying at Rossmore House, catching
the train north to Alexandria on the shores of the Mediterranean and going by boat to
Athens.
“The Abbasieh”271
7th
Dec. 1922
Dearest Eff.
Ingrate! To ask for more personal letters when my long and interesting
effusions have been a series of I - I - I - till I blushed to send them. Some of the others
too have evidently handed them on to persons not mentioned on the list, persons to
whom I could have mentioned had I so desired. For I have received notes from some
of these folk saying they don’t know how I have had time to write all the letters
they’ve seen and c and c. I could willingly screw the necks of whoever handed on
some of my letters for I have been fairly candid, selecting as I thought, the people to
whom I wrote. Of course reading bits of a letter is no harm but I do think the other is
over the odds and Constance is the one I suspect. Her departure for Britain was
hurried wasn’t it? Perhaps we’ll meet there.
Well, here goes for a personal letter all about me. I have been having for the
last fortnight and more particularly for the last three days (5-7th
inclusive) my first
taste of travelling on my own, and believe me, I do like it very much.
After Georgie went up the river I stayed at Rossmore House272
till Tuesday 5th
Dec. doing very little sightseeing and enjoying the society of an interesting American
woman who claimed to be interested in me but never listened to a word I said. Her
husband Professor Hopkins273
(does Chemistry at Amherst) is ill with amoebic
dysentery, a very common disease in these parts and is in hospital. He is an attractive,
quiet individual and between them they have planned if I go to America to take
Professor Abel’s place there for me and to introduce me to people at all the
Universities or Colleges I desire. This is apparently inspired by gratitude for the
comfort I’ve been to Mrs Hopkins during her husband’s illness. How it beats me,
without undue modesty, to imagine, but my luck still holds with my own sex; they
seem to get some moral support from my cheerful inability to sew for them, nurse
them, sing to them or do for them in any way, for this they seem to feel and enjoy
some sense of obligation.
Did I have the same effect or half of it on the opposite sex, I could have a
really gay time but I don’t, unless that is what was the matter with a fat young
Egyptian who gave me the glad eye between Cairo and the station before Alexandria.
Cooks had bidden me travel 1st class, to the great indignation of Mrs Hopkins
who had travelled up from Alexandria 2nd
- and in great comfort. However, as my
ticket was bought I sat me down in style and then the young man got in and wasted no
271
Alexandria 272
Rossmore House was a pensionne run by Misses Greenwel and Chicholl (c1914) in Shari-
Madabegh, Cairo. A photo of the building can be seen in reference, J00176, Australian War Memorial 273
Presumably Arthur John Hopkins (1864-1939), Professor Chemistry, Amherst 1907-1934
147
time whatever in trying to attract my attention. The light must have been kind to my
advancing years, for he ogled me from one corner then made some excuse of sitting
next [to] another man who was on the same side as I, then manoeuvred to lean against
my arm and eye me at short range to see how I took it. He was fairly puzzled when I
leant against him slightly once or twice but returned to absorption in my book or the
window when he began to think things were progressing. Soon however my cold
became an ungracious chaperone and he returned to his own seat and gave up hope of
a flirtation with an Englishwoman.
My cold is a brute, the only one I have had since leaving home and was
contracted at the dullest show it has ever been my lot to witness. Mahommed Hassan,
the dragoman at Rossmore House, took three American ladies, two Scotch ones and
myself to a restaurant frequented by natives, ie Egyptians. We ordered and watched a
band of about five men and a girl who looked European in their midst. She was pretty
and much painted. She sang a wild sort of song, or rather shouted it – a sort of
monotone with a strange high note now and again. She seemed popular with her
audience and with the bandsmen who chatted and laughed with her rather pleasantly.
Then she danced. She was in black silk European evening dress but the dance was one
of those writhing ones they used to dance sufficiently disrobe[ed] to show the
undulations of the muscles, until, according [to] Hassan, it was stopped because it
spoiled the soldiers. Had they seen it as we did, I guarantee the soldiers would have
spoiled the dance, for it was a dull ugly thing, expurgated till there was nothing left
but ugliness. This girl took a fancy to me, like Mrs Hopkins, and came to ask where
my husband was. “Haven’t one” said I “Yours?” She hesitated then pointed out a …
young Egyptian at a table. “She lied” said Hassan, when this was retailed to him. No
dancing girl has a husband. Never never – but they love, and she loves that man who
is married but has lived with her for six years.
When she had done her stunt, her place was taken by a bad looking, large,
white fleshed woman who looked as if she kept wanting to tuck up her feet under her
instead of sitting European-wise in a chair. She joined in a chorus with a gargle at the
end of which, her head dropped onto her shoulder and her eyes rolled. It was hideous
and duller than ever. Then she blew her nose for a long time and that is absolutely all.
We left and no doubt something livelier, or at least worse, took place, for one can’t
imagine any men paying for such a performance as that. It goes on till 1, too – we
were the only women there.
Well it cost 2/- all told for each of us, and to me extra - a cold that hurt through to my
back and made me take a lively interest in the exact position of my lungs. However, I
think it’s clearing up now, though I am still a lovely object with the loveliness
bestowed by my cold enhanced by the operation of a belated mosquito on my
forehead last night. I say belated, because here at Alexandra there is a tang in the air
and one can wear – I needed in my melancholy condition - thick things. Mosquito net
are not put down at this time of year here, tho they are still a few hours away in Cairo.
Leaving Cairo I felt rather inadequate for my first journey [alone?]. The
Rossmore House hall porter who came with me of course, is young and new to his job
so I was pestered with folk demanding baksheesh and had a horrible time. Here,
however, I was met by a trained if disagreeable porter, a Syrian who recited his
virtues to me exhaustingly, and today he put me through the customs, passport and
148
medical offices with efficiency and calm. So here I am on board waiting for the boat
to start and no doubt for myself to be truly miserable with seasickness. Last night a
gale blew up, but now the bay is calm and all may yet be well. Though I should hate it
to happen in Melbourne, I am glad here, there I no one to see me off – there is no
conversation to be made with kind but little known people. There seem only a few
first class passengers. I have a cabin to myself (by luck not management or money)
and I feel very calm and pleasant.
9th Dec. British School
Athens
Looking back, the last sentence is most ironical. Never have I had such a time!
As from Melbourne we rode out into a gale, in a smallish steamer. Such a gale as they
have, Captain says, about twice a year. My stewardess was more than kind – always
is, the captain says with English or American tourists - that and the cabin to myself
and fact that for most of the time the porthole was left open, these three were the only
mitigating circumstances in a trip that was so violent that this afternoon coming up in
a taxi-like boat I slipped my hand inside my stays as I felt that if I were jolted against
anything hard, my insides would perforate. Talk about in a minute paying for glad
life’s arrears. I did. I do.
I went into dinner on the Tuesday quite gaily and got into instant conversation
with a military man stationed in Constantinople; but I had to leave after the fish [?]
and did not see him again till I came on deck just before we arrived today. As things
are interesting there just now, I was, or rather am, disappointed. I was not in the
interval interested in anything.
For meals today I had some tinned pineapple, the thing to hold its job down,
and a mandarin as we arrived, so you may judge I felt pretty faintish when after a long
search for the Japanese legation, we reached this school. Cook’s man met me, rowed
me ashore and secured the taxi, then asked would I share it with a Japanese gentleman
who had also claimed his services. It was the only one left so I said yes, tho there was
no reduction in price. That, however, was cheap enough. It is half an hour’s train
journey here from Piraeus and the boat from the Abbasieh and the taxi and perquisite
no doubt required by Cook’s man, came to 10/- only. Imagine, while before the war,
twenty-five drachmae went to the Pound, now it takes between three and four
hundred.
Anyhow, I arrived here safely to find a Greek girl who spoke only Greek, and
a Mrs Woodward in possession - neither very desirous of making conversation with
me for four hours till dinner at eight. So I asked for tea and had some very weak and
scented and black bread and butter, served in my bedroom which sounds cheerless but
somehow isn’t. It is a large very clean room with an icy wind blowing into it from the
high mountains. It has an open wardrobe, a chest of drawers, basin and stand, a bed, a
towel rail and two chairs. No curtain, no carpet. Till the war it was a purely bachelor
establishment, but like many other such, has had to decline up (sic) the weaker sex to
make ends meet. What the rules are, what one pays, whether there is a bath or not, has
not become known to me. I shall pause in order to leave space for these – to me,
vitally interesting items.
149
Later. No rules except breakfast before 10am and breakfast alas consists of tea
and an egg and black bread and butter or jam or Hymettos honey may be bought and
there is a kettle on which one can make one’s own tea if preferred – mine shall be
preferred, a bit later. Everything is so cheap I fancy I’ll live here for less than 35/- a
week. There is a bath and a heater and one gets one’s hot water bag filled in the
kitchen every night. There is not much service here, a smiling Greek maid called
Marika, a sick mother, and a cook who comes in daily, apparently, do everything.
There are at present, seven people in the house and four or more away for a day or
two in Thessaly. Everyone is much interested in native sewing and it is a dreadful
catastrophe to bring home a bit that is a dud ie not recognizable by Mr Woodward and
Mr Welsh, as done by natives, Albanians from Jannina or Turkish – or whatnot but
just something “done” for the tourist. There are keen discussions whether the things
on the genuine bits are human beings or trees, but provided the work can be “placed’
and is not flagrantly ugly, everyone is satisfied at it having been bought.
As to the people, most of the names are so extraordinary I can’t get them. The
Assistant Director, Mr Woodward is a kind man with the oddest habit of turning his
head away from you as he speaks till his chin rests on his shoulder and (as) his speech
ends, at right angles to his attentive countenance. Mr Welsh seems bored at the sight
of me so I know nothing of him, but there is a lively boy just passing through and
allowed to stay here on the strength of some classics of his: a University girl who
must be older than she looks as she finished her course before the war, and is now
here to decide how she will specialise, her name is like Papius and then there is a
friendly couple, young, he an expert in ancient coins. Their name begins with Seltman
and I expect to be friendly with them both.
Now that’s all my news except that I can’t open one of my boxes and so can’t
get my things out – very sad as I am joyfully unpacking – it being now Sunday – and
getting my things into drawers instead of trunks (tin or wooden ones I mean).
I have sent no Xmas presents as it meant too much time at both ends for you
all and for me. So accept my warmest wishes instead and my love – and do keep on
writing – nothing should be lost now. Yours ever, Jess.
2.2.1 Notes:
1. Progress: The Argus 1 March 1923 interview reported that they reached Cairo on
16th
November ie nine days after Abu Simbel (at which Jessie reported the boat
did not stop). They may have spent a week touring places such as Philae, Aswan,
Luxor and Thebes before reaching Cairo. From this last letter it looks like they
went their separate ways from the last week in November, which gave Georgina 2
½ months before she reached Melbourne at the end of February. Consequently it is
apparent that she spent some time elsewhere before coming home to Melbourne
eg India and Ceylon, which were on the PO routes.
2. Political Situation: In regard to the situation in Cairo at the time of their visit
(and Jessie was already aware of difficulties, see letter …X) the following quotes
give a flavour of the atmosphere in the city at the time. It is wondered how this
150
affected their visit to the city, although being ‘European’ and female they may not
have experienced any problems.
“… in December 1921, the British authorities in Cairo imposed martial law
and once again deported [Saad] Zaghlul [popular revolutionary].
Demonstrations again led to violence. In deference to the growing nationalism
and at the suggestion of the High Commissioner, Lord Allenby, the UK
unilaterally declared Egyptian independence on 28 February 1922, abolishing
the protectorate and establishing an independent Kingdom of Egypt.”274
“Crisis Phase (March 15, 1922-July 5, 1923): … British troops remained in
the country following Egypt’s independence in order to protect British
interests, including the Suez Canal. Ahmed Faud, who became Sultan of
Egypt following the death of Sultan Hussein Kamil on October 9, 1917,
assumed the title of King Faud I on March 15, 1922. Prime Minister Abdel
Khaliq Sarwat Pasha resigned on November 29, 1922, and Muhammad
Tawfiq Nasim Pasha formed a government as prime minister on November 30,
1922. … King Faud I lifted martial law on July 5, 1923 (martial law had been
declared in 1914).”275
3. Dramatic Event, Nov. 1922: It would be extraordinary if Jessie hadn’t written
about the discovery of King Tutankhamun’s tomb, which happened on 5th
November, with the opening of the tomb site on 23rd
November when Lord
Carnavon arrived in Luxor, enabling Howard Cater to proceed. It was huge news
at the time eg.
“The discovery of King Tut's tomb in November 1922 created an obsession around the
world. Daily updates of the find were demanded. Masses of mail and telegrams
deluged Carter and his associates. Hundreds of tourists waited outside the tomb for a
peek. Hundreds more people tried to use their influential friends and acquaintances to
get a tour of the tomb causing a great hindrance to work in the tomb and endangering
the artifacts.”276
274
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_modern_Egypt 275
http://uca.edu/politicalscience/dadm-project/middle-eastnorth-africapersian-gulf-region/egypt-1922-
present/
276 http://history1900s.about.com/od/1920s/a/kingtut.htm
151
2.3. TRANSCRIPT OF OTHER WRITINGS IN THE DIARY The following is written on the last page and back cover of the diary:
Notes on journey from Nimule to Rejaf [repeated for some reason] by CVA Estent,
PWD [Public Works Department] Uganda November 1920.[ This is about the Safari
leg of the journey only]
Nimule - Mamur Rest House 20 minutes walk from steamer landing place
10.6 miles
Nimule to Assua 10.6 miles. 3 miles continous rise 1 ½ down hill both stony –then easy
slope to the Assue river 80 yards broad - a canoe but in the dry season fordable camp ½
mile beyond river water muddy – sheep chickens eggs can be got
І. Assua to Aju 5.4 miles, fair road with occasional gully camp not very good Main road
to Opari turns to the left. Shorter route goes straight on
Aju to Itu 4.5 miles road fair, camp fair
Itu to Kirrippi 4.9 miles rd. fair best camp on road The road from Opari to
Kapi Kap crosses at camp
Rejaf Rd is the centre one of the 3. sheep, chicken, eggs.
Π. Kirrippi to Muka 8.3 miles, the road very steep up and down and stony. Several dry
water courses. 1st 5 miles very hard going then good and on/ into Muka. The road from
Opare joins 1 mile before getting to Muka.
Ш. Muka to Gumbari 8.4 miles Road good to river Unca[?] which was dry but is
probably unfordable during high flood, 1.8 from camp. Camp good. Porters would not
leave before day light because of reported recent presence of lions.
ІV. Gumbari to Tombe Moussa 12.1 miles. Road good for about 6 ½ miles to River
Karpetta which was dry but can be unfordable. Road gets rougher after next 3 miles as it
nears camp which was good but water was may be scarce.
v.Tombe Moussa-Gadren Morbe 8.3 miles. Good road but weedy and thorny. Chief
Kiruloo Gadren speaks Swahili. Guinea fowl camp and water good.
VІ. Gadren Morbe to Fitia Legu 11 miles. Tselse bad road good River Gappa which can
be unfordable 1 ½ miles before reaching camp. Water good but may be scarce.
VΠ. Fitia Legu to Laro – road bad hilly thorny
VШ. Laro to Nymki bad hilly stony Khiye river to be forded.
152
ІҲ. Nymki to Kirbas (91.6) and Rejef ferry 94.2)
The following appears inside the front cardboard cover
[A list of books] The China in Transition (crossed out), The Problems of China by B Russell,
The Marches of Wessex (the history of England) JH Darton, Rosette and his circle G
Beerbohn, Frequented Ways by Marion Neubigen.
This is followed by a list of terms to use with staff, most Swahili or approximations of Swahili.
Carrier pagazi (chukua, carry in Swahili))
camp - kitus
candle – meskuma (mishumaa Swahili)
clean - to make clean (takasa (Safisha, Swahili)
chicken – faranya (Kuku, Swahili)
chop mall – ka(orer) te … (changa, Swahili)
cockroach - mende
cost (how much) – chiefralefe
The cook – mkishi (mpishi, Swahili)
On opposite page (ie un-numbered second page) is:
“Re Mustapha tho Muganda a policeman at Gondokoro – this was when the Lado Enclave
was under Uganda …of the Sudan he was welcomed vigorously by old friends at Rejaf.”
Also:
List of stations of Nile R between Rejaf and Khatoum (as per diary)
[Not copied out because they are mentioned in the diary]
On un-numbered page 3 there is a list:
Rossmore House [ie Cairo]
Washing List 17 November
2 cotton dresses
1 blouse (silk) 1 cotton blouse
1 silk petticoat
[…]
3 handkerchiefs
3 bodices
1 night dress
2 pairs knickers
1 singlet.
153
PART 3: PRESS AND OTHER COVERAGE OF
JOURNEY
The following news coverage and other items provide some information about
the Cape to Cairo journey (highlighted), although that coverage is not always
accurate . While the primary media focus was on the League of Nations meeting, the
unusual nature of the trip obviously also attracted its share of attention. The
coverage also shows that Jessie was very busy on return with dutifully reporting back
about the League across the country. It is interesting to see how active women’s
groups were at this time, including being interested in a variety of topics, including
relating to international issues. It is obvious too, from the nation-wide coverage and
the use of the same photo of Jessie, that a public relations exercise had been
organized, perhaps by the National Council of Women.
3.1 Press Coverage
3.1.1 Women’s World, the Melbourne Monthly, March 1922, 7. (Ref. Ridley,
p. 63)
“Dr Georgina Sweet and Miss Jessie Webb, the much beloved President of the
Lyceum Club, (are going) on a casual [sic] sort of tour through the wilds of Central
Africa, Rhodesia, Belgian Congo, the Tanganyika Territory, British East Africa,
Uganda and then onto Egypt and the civilized world sic, which they hope to visit at
the end of a year or two (!)”
3.1.2 Melbourne Argus, 1 March 1923
http://nla.gov.au/news-articles1879564
“Dr Georgina Sweet’s Travels
After an absence of nearly twelve months, during which she travelled through some of
the most interesting parts of Africa, Dr Georgina Sweet, associate professor of
zoology, returned yesterday on the Narkunda. Dr Sweet was accompanied on her tour
by Miss Jessie M [sic] Webb, MA., and she describes their experiences as
wonderfully interesting, though far from comfortable. They landed in Capetown on
April 15, spending six weeks in South Africa, and en route for Cairo, which they
reached on November 16, they visited Rhodesia, the Belgian Congo, the British
Mandate area of Tanganyika Territory, Zanzibar, Kenya Colony, and the Uganda
Protectorate, remaining not less than three weeks in each place. Their journey down
the Nile to Cairo was not the least interesting part of the tour.
‘We were received everywhere’, said Dr Sweet yesterday, ‘with the utmost kindness’.
As on other occasions, I come back impressed with the genial courtesy and true
hospitality of members of our race and most other nations in those distant places,
towards the visitor who displays a sympathetic interest and tries to understand their
condition. Although our time was so short, we made the most of our opportunities of
studying the various kinds of government, problems of administration, native
154
development, the potency of human and animals diseases in delaying progress, in
which I was especially interested; and of course the wonderful scenery.’
Dr Sweet spoke of the abounding problems which faced the Government of South
African Union, with its white and coloured peoples; of the spontaneous devotion of
the British in Rhodesia to the mother country; of the Belgian Congo with its
wonderful resources and rapid development, a bit of ‘Continental Europe in speech at
least, in the heart of Africa’, and where the residents, Belgian, British, Greek and
Scandanavian, extended to them the greatest courtesy. She referred with admiration to
the work which is being done by the handful of British officials in the mandated
Tanganyika area in the face of financial and other difficulties, and to the equally fine
services to the Empire of the men stationed in Kenya Colony, Uganda ‘the Pearl of
Africa’, and the Sudan. The travellers found Egypt in the throes of a difficult political
situation, mingled with some excitement over the discovery of King Tutankhmun’s
tomb.
Dr Sweet said she was very interested to see the extent to which Australian trees were
being grown in Africa. In the South and in Kenya there were great forests grown for
timber and for shade, and of acacias for bark and timber.
Grevillea was abundant, especially Grevillea robusta (our silky oak), which was often
grown freely on roadsides and in coffee plantations as an ornamental shade tree.
Miss Webb, who is lecturer in ancient and early British history in the Melbourne
University, left Dr Sweet in Africa to go on to Athens, where she has been residing at
the British School of Archaeology.”
3.1.3 Melbourne Argus, 20 April 1923
http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-articles1891770
“New Professor’s Humour” - article includes a mention of “After the dinner Dr
Georgina Sweet gave a short lantern lecture in the University Clubhouse, on her
African tour.”
3.1.4 Wyvern (Queen’s College 1.1.1923, 39.
(Ref. Ridley, p 65)
Melbourne University Foundation Day (and at the Science Club) - A slide talk, “Three
thousand miles by the Nile”. Location of slides not known.
3.1.5 Brisbane Courier, Tuesday 24 July 1923
http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article20655713
“A distinguished record lies[?] to the credit of Miss Jessie Stobo Watson Webb, M.A.
who has accepted the position of Australia’s woman delegate to the League of Nations
Assembly. Throughout her scholastic career Miss Webb showed her exceptional
ability, having taken first class honours in history, political economy, logic and
philosophy. Since her student days Miss Webb has occupied the position of senior
155
lecturer in history to Melbourne University, and throughout the period of her
connection with the University she has also taken a leading position in public work. In
1922, with Dr Georgina Sweet, Miss Webb made the long journey from the Cape to
Cairo. Since then she has been in Athens, where she has been engaged with the British
School of Archaeology in exploring and excavating in ancient Greece.”
3.1.6 Melbourne University Magazine, August 1923, 130 (Ref. Ridley, p 65)
Ridley notes that it reveals only that they were accompanied by thirty five porters.
3.1.7 The Register, Adelaide, 12 Feb 1924
http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/57470045
“TO REPRESENT AUSTRALIA
Miss Jessie Webb
Miss Jessie Webb, M.A., lecturer in History at the Mebourne University will shortly
return to Australia by the RMS Maloja. Miss Webb is the woman delegate chosen by
the Federal Government to represent Australia at the League of Nations Assembly at
Geneva in 1923. A committee formed of representatives from the National Council of
Women and the League of Nations Union of South Australia, has arranged with Miss
Webb to give an address on her experiences at Geneva in Adelaide on Monday
February 20th
in the institute lecture room, North Terrace. This is the first opportunity
that the public of Adelaide has had of hearing first-hand news from the 1923
Assembly….This address should be of immense interest to the rest of all citizens, men
and women alike, but the women’s associations are particularly asked to urge their
members to attend to show their appreciation of the Government’s action in
appointing a woman to take part in this great work for Australia. Arrangements are
also being made in Western Australia for Miss Webb to speak in Perth.”
The article is accompanied by the graduate photo of Jessie (see p. 12).
3.1.8 Daily New Perth, 21 Feb. 1924
http://nga.gov.au/nla.news-article780638323
“VISIT OF MISS JESSIE WEBB
A TALK TO WOMEN.
(By 'Franziska.')
Miss Jessie Webb, who was an Australian delegate at the League of Nations
Conference recently held at Geneva, was yesterday, with her hostess (Mrs. W.
Murdoch), present at morning tea, and an informal conference arranged in her honour
by the State executive committee of the Women's Service Guild, at their headquarters
in Pier-street. The State president of the Women's Service Guild (Mrs. McDonald), in
the course of a charming little speech, said that they were glad to have Miss Webb
with them, and extended a welcome to her on behalf of all members. Mrs. McDonald
aptly pointed out that getting into touch with feminine interstate visitors in this way
helped to link up Australian womanhood to mutual advantage.
156
A few remarks were then made by the three delegates who went' from Western
Australia to the Rome Conference each of whom found time while in Italy to visit the
headquarters at Geneva, of the League of Nations Union. In the course of a brief, but
interesting talk, given by her, Miss Webb said that she had been informed by the
British Overseas Committee of the international Suffrage Alliance, London, that
arrangements were being made for the erection of a pavilion at the Empire Exhibition.
She had met several members of that organisation, and was greatly impressed with the
work they were doing.
The visitor answered in an illuminating fashion questions regarding mandated
territories, and the Commission of Inquiry on the traffic in women and children. She
also outlined several suggestions concerning future appointments of delegates from
Australia to the League of Nations assemblies, and referred to the important fact that
the alternate or substitute delegate - which position she herself had occupied - really
has practically the same status and equal responsibility, with a full delegate.
A number of impressions of Miss Webb's tour through Africa were given in such
vividly descriptive terms as to make them of absorbing: interest to her hearers.
Altogether those present felt that they had spent a very pleasant and instructive
morning.”
3.1.9 Sydney Morning Herald, 22 Feb. 1924
http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article16123946
“LEAGUE OF NATIONS
DELEGATE RETURNS
LESSONS FROM CORFU
Miss Jessie Webb, Lecturer in History at the University of Melbourne, has returned to
Australia after an absence of two years, during which she represented Australia at the
fourth Assembly of the League of Nations. When she left Australia in March 1922,
she was accompanied by Dr Georgina Sweet on a tour of Africa, where Dr Sweet,
who is a well-known parasitologist, desired to study certain diseases affecting lower
animals. They traversed Belgian territory, the territory of Tanganyika, which was
formerly German East Africa, Zanzibar, Kenya Colony, Uganda and made a 90-mile
long trek along the Nile Valley with the aid of 38 native carriers. Tanganyika, they
found, had suffered a tremendous set-back through the war, and, according to local
opinion, was not likely to recover for 20 years. The natives proved trustworthy during
their travels, and they suffered none of the misadventures associated with the wilds of
Africa.
Miss Webb left Dr Sweet at Alexandria and embarked for Athens where she was
received with kindness. The British were the most popular of the foreigners. She was
in Greece when asked to attend the Assembly of the League of Nations. The
Assembly soon after … adjoined to give the Council of the League a freer hand in
dealing with the difficult and dangerous situation caused by Mussolini’s seizure of
Corfu. The opinion was widely expressed that if Mussolini were top do this kind of
thing with impunity no small nation would have any guarantee in the League, and
their delegates might as well pack their trunks. They were … most impressed with the
moderation and self-restraint of M. Politis, the Greek envoy. She thought that the
157
League had not failed at that moment of test. The crisis had revealed certain
weaknesses in the League for which remedies ought to be sought, but had there been
no League there would have been no evacuation of Corfu and if there had been no
evacuation of Corfu it was hard to believe that there would not have been another
European war.”
3.1.10 The Advertiser, Adelaide, 28 Feb 1924 (extract only, with paragraphs
inserted) http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article73406927
“MISS JESSIE WEBB
LECTURER AND EXPLORER
Appearances are often more or less deceptive, and no one meeting the fair and fragile
looking Miss Jessie Webb who is on a visit to Adelaide, would imagine she had,
among other strenuous things, trekked across Africa, from the Cape to Cairo.
A lecturer in history at Melbourne University, she was granted two year’s leave, and
accompanied Dr. Georgina Sweet, also of Melbourne, on an exploration trip. Dr.
Sweet returned last year, but after the journey to Cairo from Cape Town Miss Webb
parted company with her friend and went to Greece, and thence to Constantinople.
While she was there she received a cable message appointing her one of the
Australian representatives at the Genera Conference of the League of Nations. Miss
Webb arrived there on September 1 and the conference debated for a month. She was
a substitute delegate on all the committees.
The conference was conducted in French and English. Mm Webb informed a
representative of 'The Advertiser' on Wednesday that she was particularly struck by
the earnestness of a Norwegian representative Miss Jeffe, who made a strong appeal
for help for the Armenian women who were captured by the Turks and are in
captivity. Although her grant from the League of Nations was very small, this
Norwegian lady has rescued over 300 Armenian women already, and she has made a
big appeal to the women of every nation for help. Miss Webb is going to try to
interest Australian women in the project.
After Miss Webb parted with Dr. Sweet she went to Crete, where there is great
interest in the excavations being conducted under the supervision of Sir Arthur Evans,
which were begun in 1900.' Sir Arthur had always maintained that Homer’s
description of Greece was founded upon fact, and not legend. He has now excavated
the Palace of Knossos in Eastern Crete, where the friezes dating back 3000 years B.C.
are in a wonderful state of preservation, depicting blue monkeys and black men. In
addition some Cretan seals were found beautifully engraved with pre-Greek scenes.
Pottery and other things were discovered intact. In the township of BoloWebb met
with the soup kitchen provided by the Save the Children Fund of Adelaide [?]. This
was reported to be the best of its kind in Greece.
Miss Webb said, in speaking of the trek across Africa, that people always expressed
surprise that the journey was for the most part by train and boat. Of course, floating
on the Congo was not the most pleasant form of traveling. She recalled an experience
when a barge was struck on a dark night, and the passengers had to clamber out and
158
be carried ashore on the backs of the black men. They had quite a retinue— thirty men
to carry luggage — but these were replaced from time to time.277
A Reception. On Wednesday afternoon the Lady Mayoress (Mrs. C. R. J. Glover)
entertained the president and members of the National Council of Women and wives
of the aldermen and counselors of the City Council at afternoon tea in her charming
reception-room at the Town Hall to meet Miss Webb, who leaves to-day for
Melbourne ...”
3.1.11 Barrier Miner (Broken Hill), 8 March 1924
http://nla.gov.au/news-article45639324
“MISS JESSIE WEBB, M.A.
Australia’s woman representative at the League of Nations Assembly in Geneva who
arrived in Adelaide last Tuesday.”
[with accompanying photo, same one as used in other press coverage and rather
curiously appearing in the Sports Edition!]
3.1.12 The Brisbane Courier, 7th
June, 1924,
http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article20745476
“Miss Jessie Webb Entertained”
Article about Jessie being guest of honour at a reception held at the Lyceum Club for
women’s organizations to hear about the League of Nations meeting. Jessie also spoke
about the importance of women’s organizations and the need to understand world
events. She mentioned, among other things, about meeting women candidates for
Parliament and those elected (nothing about the Cape to Cairo journey).
3.1.13 Brisbane Courier, 5 Oct. 1925 http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article20965830
“Distinguished Visitors Entertained
[This article was about a social event at the Lyceum Club in Brisbane with Georgie
visiting. The focus of the article was on scholarships for women but there is a brief
mention of the Cape to Cairo trip]
“… Alisa Paterson, in her reply, referred to the fact that Dr Sweet and Miss Jessie
Webb, M.A. had been the first women to undertake the complete over-land journey
through Africa from the Cape to Cairo …”
3.1.14 Brisbane Courier, 23 Nov. 1932
http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article22022420
277
Two stories are mixed up here ie travelling on the Congo river and the safari from Nimule in
southern Sudan. Also, this story is a little strange because the boats tied up at night because of the
dangers of sandbanks and other possible obstacles. But the incident is not mentioned in the letters
contained in this current record.
159
Southern Stations Tomorrow, [Radio Programmes]
3AR Melbourne (492 Mitres).-8.0 A travel talk by Miss Jessie Webb; [no other
details]
3.1.15 Papers on Various Australian Women, Rapke, Julia, paper on Georgina
Sweet, nd (c1937), NLA MS 842
Extracts only, as relates to the Cape to Cairo journey, with paragraph breaks and a
couple of commas inserted:
P7. “The death of her father was a heartbreaking blow to her, coming as it did soon
after losing her mother and much loved younger sister, Dr Elizabeth Mary Sweet. This
triple bereavement robbed her of her three nearest and dearest in the short space of
sixteen months.”
Pp.16-18. “ … Often, perhaps always one should say, she is tired, but she never
succumbs and is quite philosophical about it. “I was born tired” she will tell you. And
in truth she was. Up till the age of eleven she was very delicate, has suffered from ill-
health more or less throughout her life. Thanks to sound organs and an extremely wiry
constitution, helped also by good food, right living and an intelligent application of
medical, dental and ophthalmic science she has largely managed to overcome her
physical disabilities. When, as a girl, she would tell her mother how completely tired
she was, her wise parent would say “no, you are not tired, Just relax a little and soon
you will be able to carry on again.” There was no pampering: instead she was taught a
practical acceptance and the principle – what cannot be cured must be endured. 278
…
She would close her eyes, sit back and relax completely for a little time and then go
on. It is this extraordinary quality of doggedness or “stick-at-it-ness (her phrase, not
mine) that is especially notable about her. It is one which is as unique as it is
individual and has certainly had great bearing on the success of her life’s work.
She was a serious-minded little girl and even when quite young was never allowed to
read fairy stories or children’s novels. She was brought up on Livingstone, Stanley,
Drake and Jules Verne. It was Verne’s stories that whetted her imagination in
childhood –for travel and romance. She longed especially to see Africa and the
Victoria Nyanza Falls. When the opportunity to visit Africa really came many years
afterwards her friends thought she was crazy. She herself began to wonder if indeed
she had wanted it all that time or was it only a fiction of her childhood that she had
imagined. But one day, rummaging among some old letters, she came across one she
had written to her father from Lorne when she was only nine years old and in it she
declared she must see Africa before she died! She gleefully showed it to her
concerned friends who, when the time came for her to set out on her African travels
with Miss Jessie Webb, refused even to go and see her off.
So in 1922 the African dream became a reality and at last she gazed upon the majesty
of the Falls. Several weeks were spent in the S. African Union, in Rhodesia, travelling
278
These appear to be symptoms of having had rheumatic fever as a child, and related to the ‘neuralgia’
Jessie reported Georgie to be suffering at times on the journey.
160
up the Congo, in Tanganyika Territory and in Kenya. At the end of a year she was
home.” …
3.1.16 Australian Women’s Digest, Jan. 1946279
Extract from Obituary of Georgina Sweet by Kathleen Sherrard. “Soon after the first world war, she planned an adventurous journey, no less than from the Cape to
Cairo, over a great part of which it was necessary to be carried by native porters. She persuaded
Jessie Webb, lecturer in Ancient History at the Melbourne University, to go with her, thereby
securing the most delightful company in the world. With the simplicity which was natural to her,
Georgina Sweet enjoyed as much as anyone the burlesque of this trip acted by junior women staff
members as much as anyone the burlesque of this trip staff members at a women students’ party
when she returned to Melbourne. To give the skit a correct atmosphere she lent the chair she had
actually been carried in across Africa, together with the collapsible rubber bath, and supplied
stories of Mustapha, the head porter on the trek, and Erissa the cook, for the embellishment of the
doggerel “libretto”.
279
This version is not accurate in a number of respects.
161
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Clarson, G., Eat My Dust, Early Women Motorists, JH Publ., 2008
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