SHAKA ZULU and the PONDO CATTLE NOGAL. Where shall I begin ? In the early 1960’s I was invited by Ingo Viedge of Viedgesville in the Transkei to accompany him out of town to the village of Umhlanga Rocks to say goodbye to a family friend who was leaving for Germany. The exercise was most rewarding in that she was a beautiful young lady with endearing modesty and shy. She was the daughter of Mr E. A. Ritter the author of the romantic novel Shaka Zulu which had been filmed. These attributes also found a depository in Helen Rawlings and Vonnie Biggs whose fathers farmed across the Mabela river in the Ongeluksnek Valley. Helen was acclaimed by her peers as one of the outstanding head girls of Grahamstown Teachers’ Training College. I never met Vonnie Biggs whose father drove a handsome brown Chevrolet motor car. Michael and Colin Venter and I were standing in front of the Roman Catholic Church one day doing nothing when Mr Biggs drove by. Vonnie was leaning far out of the rear window so that the fresh cool breeze added radiance to her smile while her flowing long blond hair accentuated the beautiful colour of the brown car. She waived to us rendering the moment a memorable one and an important event in my life.
When I was planning to move to Durban, Mrs Sue Lake, bless her, recommended that I try Nerina Court a boarding house in Chelmsford Road near St Augustines Hospital. It was comfortable and reasonable. The residents comprised senior University students in the main so as a reborn schoolboy I was seated at the far end of the long table in the dark corner of the dining room. So seated I felt it was unfitting for me to make any contribution to their daily discourse on the academic drama in their lives or the state of affairs on the University campus. All this changed dramatically when it was learnt that I was from Matatiele AND that I knew Vonnie Biggs whereupon my status was elevated ipso facto by several notches. This all gives credence to my bona fide held belief that the mundane chores of feeding the hens, collecting the eggs in their aprons and warming milk bottles on the black cast iron wood and coal stoves to feed the Hans lambs, nurtures characteristics of great leadership in our young ladies.
Several years later I returned to Nerina Court for my evening meals to find that it had been acquired as an investment by John Seymour a former partner in Attorneys Seymour and Seymour of Matatiele. In his lease with the operator John had stipulated that he and his wife and daughters Elizabeth and Margaret should be entitled to free dinners. Although he was an old man and semi-retired, John befriended me in that he gave me much advice and encouragement in establishing myself in Durban. He had a good eye for property and when I queried his decision to buy a smallholding near Pietermaritzburg he explained that every South African and Afrikaners in particular yearned to own a piece of land. He was also far sighted in that he advocated that South Africa should adopt a Federal Constitution as in the USA and Australia.
The firm Seymour and Seymour in Matatiele was founded by Wilfred Seymour and his deceased brother and when I was at school the partners were Wilfred and his sons Caeser and John and his nephew the John I was to become friendly with in Durban. Caeser never married and was the author of South African Native Law and Customs which became the leading authority on the subject. The son John emigrated to Southern Rhodesia where he became engage to be married. On his return to Matatiele on holiday he was knocked down and killed by a drunken driver as he walked along the edge of the road near the jail. Wilfred was known to be absent minded and when it came to him having to report his black car stolen he could not remember the registration number CCX 500 which was well-known to the small community.
At Nerina Court I also met Vickie the vivacious bride-to-be of the charming young Advocate Anthony Pitman, known as Harry to his friends, who was later to become the Democratic Party Member of Parliament for Durban North. A girlfriend from Johannesburg accompanied me to the Methodist Church in Manning Road one Sunday evening. The resident Minister was Reverend Cyril Wilkins and the organist and choir master David Kirby, both distinguished men in their respective fields. There we met Anthony and Vickie after which my girlfriend exclaimed that Anthony was the handsomest man she had ever seen. When he was preparing for his candidacy as a Rhodes Scholar he continued with his training as an athletic sprinter on our school field in Matatiele.. For this purpose he donned what would today be described as a track suit. We school boys had never seen anything of the kind before and so we averted our gaze in embarrassment thinking he was wearing pyjamas. Similarly I strode into the street early one morning wearing my elegant full length navy blue dressing gown with rubbish bag in hand. There I came face to face with two Zulu dustmen one of whom was visibly shocked. He turned to his companion and asked “ Why is this old man wearing a frock ? “ As a parliamentarian Anthony was an outspoken opponent of apartheid and his intellect had no match in the Government of the day. He frequently appeared as Counsel for the accused in political trials. He also appeared for the accused in the trial of the man charged with shooting the most famous race horse Sea Cottage, a July Handicap favourite. This dastardly deed not only invoked the anger of the nation but even that of the presiding judge whose ire was evidenced by his demeanour and unguarded comments. On the day sentence was to be handed down the Court was packed with spectators and the press all baying for the accused’s blood. With the utmost calm and self-confidence, Anthony rose to address the Court in mitigation of sentence. He commenced by briefly summarising the mood of the nation and more particularly of those present in the public gallery. Then with respect and tenacity he addressed the judge directly and reminded the judge of the history and functions of our Courts under the constitution and as enshrined under our common law and emphasised that sentence should fit the crime without taking cognisance of the emotions of the public. In the result the light sentence handed down was accepted with resignation by all. Anthony died very unexpectedly and still a young man in Cape Town. His passing was a great loss for democracy and the country.
At Nerina Court I also met Vickie the vivacious bride-to-be of the charming young Advocate Anthony Pitman, known as Harry to his friends, who was later to become the Democratic Party Member of Parliament for Durban North. A girlfriend from Johannesburg accompanied me to the Methodist Church in Manning Road one Sunday evening. The resident Minister was Reverend Cyril Wilkins and the organist and choir master David Kirby, both distinguished men in their respective fields. There we met Anthony and Vickie after which my girlfriend exclaimed that Anthony was the handsomest man she had ever seen. When he was preparing for his candidacy as a Rhodes Scholar he continued with his training as an athletic sprinter on our school field in Matatiele.. For this purpose he donned what would today be described as a track suit. We school boys had never seen anything of the kind before and so we averted our gaze in embarrassment thinking he was wearing pyjamas. Similarly I strode into the street early one morning wearing my elegant full length navy blue dressing gown with rubbish bag in hand. There I came face to face with two Zulu dustmen one of whom was visibly shocked. He turned to his companion and asked “ Why is this old man wearing a frock ? “ As a parliamentarian Anthony was an outspoken opponent of apartheid and his intellect had no match in the Government of the day. He frequently appeared as Counsel for the accused in political trials. He also appeared for the accused in the trial of the man charged with shooting the most famous race horse Sea Cottage, a July Handicap favourite. This dastardly deed not only invoked the anger of the nation but even that of the presiding judge whose ire was evidenced by his demeanour and unguarded comments. On the day sentence was to be handed down the Court was packed with spectators and the press all baying for the accused’s blood. With the utmost calm and self-confidence, Anthony rose to address the Court in mitigation of sentence. He commenced by briefly summarising the mood of the nation and more particularly of those present in the public gallery. Then with respect and tenacity he addressed the judge directly and reminded the judge of the history and functions of our Courts under the constitution and as enshrined under our common law and emphasised that sentence should fit the crime without taking cognisance of the emotions of the public. In the result the light sentence handed down was accepted with resignation by all. Anthony died very unexpectedly and still a young man in Cape Town. His passing was a great loss for democracy and the country.
In the decade prior to my visit to Umhlanga Rocks, I was privileged to be present on The Springs visiting uncle Andrew van Straaten when we wakened early one morning to light a bonfire on the race track. This was to provide some guidance for the light aircraft flying up from Durban with executives from livestock auctioneers and stock brokers who had been commissioned to provide suitable cattle for the filming of Shaka Zulu. This was before the Nguni beast had been recognised as an indigenous breed of cattle best suited to South African conditions and whose colourful hides had not yet been prized by the affluent. For this purpose the brokers had turned to Mr Brian Goss the renowned business man and trader from Pondoland. Mr Goss in turn bought several hundred Pondo cattle from his customers and had them herded up by dusty roads to his farm The Springs on the road to Swartberg. There was no motor transport for such purposes in those days. It was here that the brokers inspected the cattle and chose those they thought best suited for purposes of the film. These were then herded to the nearby Midgeley railway halt from where they were railed to Durban. Mr Goss was delighted with his role and declared that although he never attended film shows he would definitely see Shaka Zulu for the sake of seeing his cattle. Cheers.
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