Sunday 26 April 2020

Place-names in South Africa

CAPE TIMES – 1924, May 30
C. Graham Botha mentioned that the study of South African place-names should commend itself to all. It serves a twofold purpose: it is an aid to the study of the geography of the country and stimulates an interest in its early history. Before the arrival of the Europeans in 1652 many of the bays and capes along the coast had received names. There were mostly of Portuguese origin. Others had been named later by some of the early Dutch navigators.
Inland the case was different. No white man had penetrated more than a few miles in order to barter cattle with the natives. Such names as appear on maps before this relate only to large areas occupied by the natives.
If we take places within a radius of say a hundred miles of Cape Town, we will find many that will disclose early history in their origin. Those names that have a Portuguese origin are found in several of the names of bays and capes. SALDANHA BAY was the first name given in 1503 to TABLE BAY, and commemorated a Portuguese navigator, Antonio da Saldanha. In 1601 the Dutch, however, gave its present name, which is derived from TABLE MOUNTAIN. The name SALDANHA was transferred to an inlet higher up the western coast. In 1497 Vasco da Gama anchored in ST. HELENA BAY, which he names because it was first seen on that Saint’s Day. CAPE AGULHAS (Needles) does not refer to the pointed rocks in its locality, but to the fact that the needle pointed due north. It was at first called Ponto de S. Brandao, that being the Saint in whose honour it was named. It is probable Dias dedicated the southern-most cape of all Africa to this Saint, an apocryphal Irishman, whose day is the 16th May. On an early map of 1489 the present FALSE BAY is marked as Golfo dentro das serras (gulf within the mountain ranges). This would seem to be an appropriate name. The present name, given by the Portuguese at an early date, would appear to have derived its origin from the Cape which bore that name or vice verso.
NATIVE NAMES
When we come to the native period, and look at some of the inland names that have survived, we find these refer mostly to the physical feature of the country. SOUQUA’S DRIFT in the Malmesbury district comes from the native tribe, the Souquas, meaning murderers and robbers. The termination qua means the people of --- sons or men of. There were several qua tribes in the early days, but many of their names have not been perpetuated – e.g., the Inqua and the Chanouqua. Each native tribe usually took its distinctive tribal name from that of the chief under whom it had become independent. For instance, the Cochoqua were ruled by the Chief Cocho, and the Gonaqua by Gona. In the VAN RHYNSDORP district we find KONAQUAS BERG, probably referring to the latter. There are several Hottentot names with the termination DOUW, and sometimes TOUW. This refers to the Hottentot “daob” (feminine, “daos”) a poort, a mountain pass or path. The name with which it is compounded will invariably be found to refer to a path over or between a range of mountains. In the north-west we find such names as WIDOUW, BIDOUW, KRAKADOUW, NARDOUW, CARDOUW. Then, in the south-east, there is TRADOUW PASS, which comes from “taras” (a woman) and “daob” (a path). It may be of interest to note that SIR LOWRY’S PASS was called GANTOUW by the Hottentots, which comes from “kani” (an Eland) and “daos” – i.e., the Eland’s Paths. This would be very appropriate, for it showed that the natives followed the tracks of the eland to get over the other side of the mountain.

HIGH-PLACED OFFICIALS
The nomenclature of South Africa includes a number of names commemorating governors and government officials. The first Commander of the Cape, Jan van Riebeeck, is remembered in RIEBEECK KASTEEL, named in 1661. STELLENBOSCH was named in 1679 by Governor Simon van der Stel, to perpetuate his own name and commemorate the “bosch” or forest which he admired in the vicinity of the present town. SIMON’S BAY and SIMON’S TOWN were named after him also. SWELLENDAM, the third oldest town in the Province, was named in 1747 after Governor Hendrik Swellengrebel and his wife, whose maiden name was Ten Damme. The name of a Governor-General of Batavia, who was passing through on his way to the East, is recalled by a well-known farm in the Peninsula, INHOFF’S GIFT, recalling Baron van Imhoff’s visit in 1743. One Governor has made certain that members of his family should be lost to posterity. This was Lord Charles Somerset. There are about half-a-dozen names which he gave.  Of these there are SOMERSET WEST, PORT BEAUFORT, and WORCESTER, in addition to several towns which have streets called after him. The names of fathers-in-law of some of the Governors have also been given to places, such as CLANWILLIAM, called after the first Earl of Clanwilliam, whose daughter married Sir John Cradock. MALMESBURY was named after the first Earl of Malmesbury, the father-in-law of Sir Lowry Cole. The latter also gave his name to SIR LOWRY’S PASS, which was opened in 1830. MAITLAND, NAPIER, DURBANVILLE and DARLING all commemorate former Governors.
The names of many Government officials and statemen are included in our list of place-names. If we take our road-engineers, or those responsible for the administration there-of, we have MICHELL’S PASS, BAIN’S KLOOF, ROBINSON’S PASS, GARCIA and SOUTHEY PASSES. MONTAGU bridge, near SALT RIVER, recalls the name of John Montagu, the Secretary to Government. RIVERSDALE, named in 1838, records the name of Harry Rivers, a former Magistrate of Swellendam; PORTERVILLE, a former Attorney-General (Wm. Porter); and RAWSONVILLE, a secretary to Government. BREDASDORP, named about 1838, is one of the first towns to perpetuate the name of a South African. It was called after the Hon. Michiel van Breda, a member of the Legislative Council.
MILITARY SIGNAL STATIONS
In many districts of the Western Province will be found mountain peaks or eminences with the name of KANONKOP or KANONBERG (Cannon Hill). These are reminders of the days when the burgher militia were called to arms by means of signal guns placed on some prominent position along the mountain ranges. The first signal was given from The Castle, and the signalmen at the various stations inland took up the report and fired their cannon. On several of these points will still be found the old guns used in the 18th century. When the alarm was sounded every farmer had to saddle up and come fully armed and with a few days’ rations. In connection with the burgher militia of those days we still have the name of PAPEGAAISBERG (Parrot Hill) at Stellenbosch. This owes its name to the fact that the militia practiced target shooting here at their annual training. The target took the form of a parrot, and points were awarded according to which part of the bird the marksman hit.
These few examples of place-names will give the motorist some food for thought. He will often find it a fascinating pastime, as he travels through various districts, to inquire the origin and history of some of the place-names.

Tuesday 21 April 2020

Animals of Myth and Legend


CAPE TIMES - 1933, July 6
Myths and fables, which in olden times were attached to birds and beasts, were traced to their probable sources by Dr. Walter Rose in a delightful address on “unnatural history,” containing much humour and scholarship, to the Sons of England Lunch Club yesterday.
Beginning with the UNICORN, Dr. Rose quoted from Timon of Atheus:
“Wert thou a unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and make thine own self the conquest of thy fury.”
And from Julius Caesar:
“Unicorns may be betrayed with trees, and bears with pits.”
THE UNICORN’S HORN
According to old writers, the LION and the unicorn were traditional enemies, and the former, on seeing the unicorn, lured him to a tree, into which in his fury the unicorn drove his horn, rendering himself helpless.
It was at one time believed that a cup made from a unicorn’s horn would betray the presence of poison, but no one seemed to have been inquiring enough to test this supposition.
In Dr. Rose’s opinion, the legend of the unicorn had its origin, not in the RHINOCEROS, but in the NARWHAL, the horn of which animal was used in trade. By an easy transition this horn could be imagined planted on the brow of a mythical horse.
It was interesting to see how old tales had introduced new words into the language. He instanced the expression “to give someone a licking” or to “lick into shape.”
This appeared to have its origin in the strange old belief that young BEARS were born without any shape. In Shakespeare’s play, Henry VI, Gloucester was compared to “an unlick’d bear-whelp,” and there were other references to a belief that a young bear was literally “licked into shape” by its mother’s tongue.
MERMAIDS AND HARPIES
Turning next to “our old friend the MERMAID,” Dr. Rose quoted from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”:
“And certain stars shot madly from their spheres to hear the sea-maid’s music.”
In olden times, the idea of making composites of men and animals was a favourite way of peopling the world with strange forms; thus harpies; the mand and HORSE in the centaur, and the man and GOAT in the satyr. That being so, the imagination of creatures in the sea half-FISH and half-human was so obvious as to discount the inaccurate explanation of the seal and the dugong.
The SHREW – really one of the most harmless of animals – was imagined by people of a primitive day to be terribly poisonous; and it was believed that if it ran across the legs of a cow it would cause paralysis. A favourite old English oath was “be-shrew thee.”
Happily, there was an antidote. This was to sea up the unfortunate shrew in a hole in a tree, where it obviously died. Subsequently, when a cow became “paralysed” its limbs were brushed with a branch of the tree, which became known as a shrew ash.
The ancient belief of the PHOENIX, referred to several times in Shakespeare, was that when it felt it had lived long enough it built a fire in which it destroyed itself, leaving in the flames an egg which produced a new phoenix.
The PELICAN was believed of old to nourish its young with its own blood, one explanation of the fable being that, in denuding itself of feather to line its nest, the bird scratched its skin and bled.
The term “SWAN SONG”, now in common use, was derived from the belief that at the time of death a SWAN was endowed with the ability to sing as sweetly as any other bird. (“A swan-like end fading in music” – “Merchant of Venice”).
Shakespeare appeared to have had no knowledge of the reputed propensity of the OSTRICH for burying its head in the sand, but he was familiar with its remarkable digestion (“I’ll make thee eat iron like an ostrich and swallow my sword like a great pin” – Henry VI).
About the CUCKOO there had been many curious beliefs, one being that on hearing the first sound of the bird immunity from pain in the limbs was obtained by rolling in the dew. The KINGFISHER was used at one time as a weathercock. Thus, Shakespeare’s reference to “time servers who turn their halcyon beaks with every gale and vary with their masters.”
“CROCODILE TEARS”
The “precious jewel” in the head of the toad was probably, in Shakespeare’s meaning, its eyes; but there was an old English belief that the creature’s head contained a stone capable of extracting poison from wounds.
The expression “CROCODILE tears” was derived from a curious belief familiar to Shakespeare, for he made Queen Margaret say of Henry VIII that he was beguiled by Gloucester “as the mournful crocodile with sorrow snares relenting passengers.”
The idea seemed to be that a crocodile could assume grief until a sympathetic person, inquiring what the trouble was, came along to satisfy its inner needs. A parallel belief was that the crocodile, having consumed all of its victim but the head, would regard that remnant with tears.

Thursday 16 April 2020

The Modern Smous (Hawker)


CAPE TIMES - 1928, August 18
“Everything goes by contrast,” the hackneyed quotation prevails! Whether it be with regard to fashions, or inventions, or customs, or modern youth, the tendency is to weigh all conditions in the scales of “then and now,” so this, so that.”
Away, back-of-beyond, the flashlight of comparison is thrown on the smous of today in favourable contrast to the smous of the past. That characteristic type of bygone days is so well-known to those whose knowledge of him was direct, that it needs but little imagination to conjure up the impression that survives the progress of time.
A little open cart drawn by two or more jaded-looking mules, donkeys, or underfed mokes, jogging dejectedly along the sandy roads of the backveld or hinter-land of the countryside.
The cart is piled high with canvass-covered parcels, one or two trunks, and an ever-accumulating pile of skins adds to the weight and height of the load. Underneath the cart, too, more often than not is a contraption for fowls bartered on the journey, and the driver either sits on the pinnacle of his goods, or ambles along by the side of his weary-looking steeds.
The approach of this turn-out was always heralded by a suppressed air of excitement and elevation in the kitchen (the news having been passed on in mysterious native fashion as usual), and the mistress comes in to find herself greeted with a request from the cook, please to “make up her book,” as she is needing an apron or blouse of “German” print, and the washerwoman tells ow she is suffering from ailments, which require the instant purchase of half a dozen bottles of Dutch medicines.
Anyway, as needs become manifest, so are they accordingly voiced, and by the time the smous has arrived, the lady of the house finds that she also may need a thing or two. (What true feminine mind will not gloat at the prospect of shopping, even though it usually means the incurrence of a small debt to be settled next time with skins or eggs?)
Nowadays, however, even kitchen folks have grown blasé, for custom stales, and the substitution of heavy motor lorries purring their stately way into the farm, but provokes the remark “I suppose it’s a smous again.” If you haven’t the time to inspect a whole shop today, there will probably be another on the same mission the week after.
The smous himself has evolved like his antiquated conveyance, and is no longer phlegmatic and cringingly persistent; he is brisk and alert and capable of introducing the remote unsophisticated country miss to the “very latest” as worn in the village, from silk stockings to crepe-de-chine underwear.
“Begone, benighted ignorance; welcome enlightment!” cries Eve, and the only one who does not applaud this visible sign of progress is her father or her husband, Mr. Farmer himself.
To him, the smous is superfluous to prosperity, a menace to economy, and with his frequent advent is now, more than ever, in plain language, in the worthy husbandman’s opinion, just “a d… nuisance.”

Cape Town’s new £22 000 Broadcasting Station at Milnerton

 CAPE TIMES - 1933, July 18 The Cape and Peninsula Broadcasting Association started Cape Town’s first Broadcasting Station on September 15, ...