– life – bokdrols of wisdom –
A gorgeous Aussie!
What a beaut Aussie bee! Snapped in flight in a Brisbane garden by Saffer-Kiwi-Aussie ace photographer Steve Reed.
Solitary bees, they don’t hang around in groups. They nest in tunnels in clay or sandstone – but don’t trust me, do some research.
Which reminds me of one of Aitch – Trish – don’t say Patricia! – ‘s favourite songs:
This trip was notable for the worst lunch ever: Jess usually makes a great lunch. Fresh rolls, butter, mayonnaise, freshly-sliced tomatoes, ham, cheese, lekker. This time she had plastic-y dry garage shop rolls, viennas – and chicken viennas at that – and tomato sauce. Ugh! She has undertaken to work with me in raising the standard.
As soon as she has stopped laughing.
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James Chapman (1831-1872) – our first South African-born explorer, hunter, trader and photographer. Enough Swedes, Scots and Frogs, here’s a homeboy! Again, if you want really accurate history, you’ve stumbled on the wrong place – but check the sources!
A son of James Chapman and Elizabeth Greeff of Malmesbury, he was educated in Cape Town and left for Durban when 14 years old. He was appointed as chief clerk in the Native Affairs Department in 1848. Liewe blksem, Native Affairs even then! 124 years later when I matriculated you could still work for the Native Affairs Dept! We’re lucky the ANC didn’t institute a Dept of Umlungu Affairs in 1994.
A year later he settled in Potchefstroom, where he became one of the first storekeepers. Shortly after, in 1852, he ventured across the mighty Limpopo River and into Bamangwato country, where one of the sons of the Bamangwato chief guided him to the (also mighty) Chobe River. Early the following year they took him to the biggrst river, the Zambezi, to within 70 miles of the Big Falls – the one with the Smoke that Thunders. He would have beaten David Livingstone to their discovery. But closies don’t count. He turned back.
By 1854 he had teamed up with Samuel H. Edwards and launched an expedition to Lake Ngami (we once paddled into Ngami), after which he trekked through the territory between Northern Bechuanaland and the Zambesi. An easygoing man, he was able to get on with the Bushman / San hunters of the semi-desert interior and spent long periods in their company, obtaining valuable help from them. Like I always say, our ‘intrepid explorers’ were actually just tourists being shown around by local guides!
Returning to Ngami, he traveled north to the Okavango River, crossing Damaraland and reaching Walvis Bay. Here he busied himself with cattle-trading in Damaraland, before setting out on a long expedition with his brother Henry, and Thomas Baines. He traveled from December 1860 to September 1864. Now that’s an expedition-length trip!
Their aim was to explore the Zambesi from the Victoria Falls down to its delta, with a view to testing its navigability. However, these plans were bedeviled by sickness and misfortune. On 23 July 1862 they reached the Falls – Mosi oa Tunya. Downstream, they did reach the Zambesi delta, but did not get to explore the mouth.
Lovely name, Mosi-oa-Tunya, the smoke that thunders. Much better than just yet another place sycophantically named after an English queen! Hell, even Harrismith OFS had a tiny dam called ‘Lake Victoria’ – give it a break!
Chapman’s attempt at exploring the Zambesi ruined his health and exhausted his finances. He returned to Cape Town in 1864, dispirited and fever-stricken. The expedition was notable since it was the first time that a stereoscopic camera had been used to record its progress. Chapman’s photos did not come out well though, even according to Chapman himself. The negatives were of a rather poor quality, and when they reached the famous waterfall he failed to get any photos at all. This reminded me of one Jonathan Taylor, a more recent photographic explorer, and his failure to capture a key moment on an expedition.
Chapman describes the Falls: ‘. . . immediately before you, a large body of water, stealing at first with rapid and snake-like undulations over the hard and slippery rock, at length leaping at an angle of thirty degrees, then forty-five degrees, for more than one hundred yards, and then, with the impetus its rapid descent has given it, bounding bodily fifteen or twenty feet clear of the rock, and falling with thundering report into the dark and boiling chasm beneath, seeming, by it’s velocity, so to entrance the nervous spectator that he fancies himself being involuntarily drawn into the stream, and by some invisible spell tempted to fling himself headlong into it and join in its gambols;‘ Wow! and Bliksem! ‘ . . but anon he recovers himself with a nervous start and draws back a pace or two, gazing in awe and wonder upon the stream as it goes leaping wildly and with delirious bound over huge rocks. It is a scene of wild sublimity.’
As they clambered about the Falls on the wet cliff edges, Chapman wrote: ‘It was necessary to proceed farther to obtain a more extended view. One look for me is enough, but my nerves are sorely tired by Baines, who finding everywhere new beauties for his pencil, must needs drags me along to the very edge, he gazing with delight, I with terror, down into the lowest depths of the chasm.’
Baines painted, his brush and easel working where Chapman’s camera didn’t:
Sir George Grey had commissioned Chapman to capture live animals and to compile glossaries of the Bantu languages. He kept diaries throughout his journeys, but his Travels in the Interior of South Africa appeared only in 1868, shortly before his death. Chapman also traveled at times with Charles Darwin’s cousin Francis Galton and Swede CJ Andersson.
He tried farming on the banks of the Swakop river around 1864, but he says the Nama-Ovaherero War interfered with that venture – a timeline says a treaty was signed in 1870 between the Nama and the Herero after a prolonged period of war between the two communities. He then lived at various places in South Africa, later returned as a trader and hunter to old South West Africa after that treaty, then died at Du Toit’s Pan near Kimberley in 1872, aged 40 years.
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wikipedia; tothevictoriafalls; christies to buy expensive paintings; namibia timeline;
Some of Chapman’s photographs are apparently at the Africana Museum in Johannesburg, but so far I haven’t found any.
Pigeon Valley is a Natural Heritage Park in Durban, South Africa. It is a magnificent example of a small urban reserve with very high levels of biodiversity. It was established to provide protection for our vanishing coastal climax forest. Only about 11ha in extent, it overlooks Durban Bay. Its south-facing slope is covered in canopy forest, while the north-facing slope has thorny thickets. An adjoining reservoir provides a tiny rectangular patch of coastal grassland – also a vanishing habitat.
Which pigeon? Delegorgue’s. He discovered it here. Read about Delegorgue. It’s a special place and is well worth a visit. see wikipedia.
There are over 110 species of trees occurring in Pigeon Valley, almost all of which are locally indigenous, including the rare Natal Elm, and the Natal Forest Loquat. Large stands of Buckweed (Isoglossa woodii) grow in forest glades.
The park is home to red duiker, blue duiker, large-spotted genet, a troop of banded mongoose, slender and water mongooses, vervet monkeys and the local mamba No.5 Dendroaspis polylepis subsp. hemsonii.
Beautiful forest birds found here include:
Rarer sightings include European Nightjar, Knysna Warbler, Lemon Dove, Mountain Wagtail, Black-throated Wattle-eye, Common Scimitarbill, Palm-nut Vulture, Nerina Trogon, Village Indigobird and Knysna Turaco. The current bird list for Pigeon Valley stands around 161 species. Summer migrants can include Black Cuckoo, Red-chested Cuckoo and Red-backed Shrike – find the full list at wikipedia – Also see BirdlifeSA
Friends of Pigeon Valley, led by tireless stalwart and asp whisperer Crispin, ensure that the park is largely free of unwanted plant species – in fact, way better than most people’s gardens! They (that’s Crispin) also liaise with the municipal managers of the reserve to address relevant issues, and guide a monthly walk open to the public at 07h30 on the second Saturday of each month. For some spectacular photos find Friends of Pigeon Valley on facebook.
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Pics by Crispin Hemson, Sheryl Halstead, Jonathan Hemson, Roger Hogg; and when my point-and-shoot grows up it’s going to take pictures like these
Meantime I point at and shoot things that will stand still for me:
It’s a lovely place for a picnic. But you must watch out who you picnic with. There sometimes be weirdos and champagne-guzzlers. And people who adulterate champagne with fruit juice.
We really should try and preserve more areas in a natural state. Don’t you think?
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Assorted pics – mostly of Pigeon Valley, but some by Friends of PV taken elsewhere:
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Janet spoils me! She got me a beautiful book written by legendary Botswana character Cronje Wilmot back in the fifties – reprinted recently.
And now two more coming! One by legendary Botswana character Lloyd Wilmot – Cronje’s grandson:
. . and yet another book by the amazing Veronica Roodt:
. . and here’s Janet the Humphrey herself, checking the dipstick of her 4X4 skorokoro as we left for Moremi. Soon after, it clicked over to 400 000km:
Update 6 November: They’re here! Safely shipped down from Botswana by Carla Bradfield and then Gail Bradfield to my door! Yay!!
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Incidents follow Lloyd! – a scorpion in his luggage on a plane . .
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2021: Lloyd has a second book out. See his website.
I have not been this excited about a book since Tramp Royal, by Tim Couzens. Well actually, Trader Horn and Ethelreda Lewis’ The Ivory Coast in the Earlies, and then Tramp Royal.
My own The First Safari by Ian Glenn just arrived and it’s beautifully made; a real old-fashioned book, hard cover complete with elegant dust jacket, map, real paper – dry matt, not glossy – a proper book! Full of fascinating detective work on the trail of its subject, Francois Levaillant, explorer of the unknown-to-Europe (well-known, of course, to the people who lived there!) interior of the Cape Colony back in 1781.
I’ve only just started but already I have to rush to report: I have a little thing about how a lot of these guys wrote how they went here and they went there and they shot a bloubok; and how often – almost always – they were actually taken there by local people with local knowledge. Their routes, their water holes, their finding animals for food and animals, birds, reptiles and plants for specimens was mostly done by, and thanks to, people who lived there. These local people weren’t ‘exploring;’ they were earning a living as guides. Here’s just one good reason explorers often took along a host of local people: Getting back safely! Not getting lost.
So here’s what I learn in Chapter 1: Far from an intrepid lone explorer, Levaillant actually had plenty of assistance on the quiet: A wealthy collector in Holland sponsored him; He put him in touch with the local VOC ‘fiskaal’ – like a magistrate – Willem Boers; Boers obtained the release of a prisoner jailed for murdering a Khoi woman. This man knew his way around and could act as a guide and helper for Levaillant.
This prisoner’s name? Swanepoel! A criminal ancestor of mine lucked out and got to go on an amazing adventure – the First Safari!
Later: OK, so now I’ve read it and re-read it. If you’re at all interested in exploration, birds, and early Africa, you’ll be fascinated. Learn how the Bateleur got its name. In addition, if you’re interested in fairness, giving people a fair shake, you’ll like it – Levaillant was criticised and his contribution to ornithology was downplayed, probably mainly because those critics were English or American and he was not. If you like mystery, there are things not (yet) known, still to be discovered;
And lastly, if you like detective stories, this is like searching through caves, Indiana Jones-style, but with far more interesting treasure. The caves are museums and the treasure is real old Africa, not mythical stuff. You’ll love it. My kind of book!
Buy local: raru books – ISBN barcode 9781431427338 – hardcover around R220.
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You could also try to buy a copy of Levaillant’s amazing book on African birds in six volumes – LEVAILLANT, François (1753-1824). Histoire naturelle des oiseaux d’Afrique. Paris: J. J. Fuchs, An VII (1799)-1808. Asking price if you can get one – around R250 000.
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VOC – Dutch East India Company
Camping at Mabibi in Zululand with the kombi – and Taylor with his puny little JEEP.
On the way I pretended (!) to get stuck to give the JEEP owner an ego boost:
. . which reminded me of Ursula in Dr. No . . Me and Ursula were like twins, ‘cept I wore less clothing and had something useful in my hand . .
Ursula Andress did it in 1962 in Dr. No; Halle Berry paid homage in 2002 in Die Another Day; and I trumped them both in 2003 in Lake Sibaya.
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(John) Thomas Baines (1820–1875) – was an English artist and explorer of British colonial southern Africa and Australia. He was most famous for his beautiful paintings – especially of ‘Baines Baobabs’ in present day Botswana and the mighty Mosi oa Tunya Falls in present day Zimbabwe.
Apprenticed to a coach painter at an early age, he left England aged 22 for South Africa aboard the ‘Olivia,’ captained by a family friend. He worked for a while in Cape Town as a scenic and portrait artist, then as an official war artist for the British Army during the so-called Eighth Frontier War against the Xhosas. (Some scurrilous jingo wag wrote a very thin little book about that over a century later: ‘Causes of the Xhosa Wars: Xhosas’).
In 1858 Baines accompanied that maniac David Livingstone on a disastrous trip along the Zambezi River, from which he was dismissed by the irrational Livingstone after a disagreement with Livingstone’s brother.
From 1861 to 1862 Baines and Soith African-born ivory trader James Chapman undertook an epic expedition to South West Africa. Starting in ‘Walvisch Bay,’ they crossed the Namib Desert, then the Kalahari to Lake Ngami, over the Boteti and Tamalakhane rivers, and then on northwards to the Zambezi river, on which they were paddled downstream by local boatman to where they could view the falls. If you tried to retrace his steps with even the best 4X4 today (don’t take a Landrover) without using any roads, you would have an epic journey and it would be an amazing achievement. Best you ask a local guide to help you, too. As always – and as still – Baines & co were guided by local people who did not feature in their epic tales of ‘We Did It’ or even ‘I Did It Myself.’
This was the first expedition during which extensive use was made of both photography and painting. In addition, both men kept journals in which, amongst other things, they commented on their own and each other’s practice. This makes their accounts, Chapman’s Travels in the Interior of South Africa (1868) and Baines’ Explorations in South-West Africa Being an account of a journey in the years 1861 and 1862 from Walvisch bay, on the western coast, to lake Ngami and the Victoria falls (1864), especially interesting. They provide a rare account of different perspectives on the same trip.
On the way, they camped under the now famous ‘Baines Baobabs’ on Nxai Pan in Botswana:
Baines gives a delightful description of the tribulations of the artist at his easel in Africa: ‘Another hindrance is the annoyance caused to the painter by the incessant persecutions of the tsetse (fly). At the moment perhaps when one requires the utmost steadiness and delicacy of hand, a dozen of these little pests take advantage of his stillness, and simultaneously plunge their predatory lancets into the neck, wrists and the tenderest parts of the body.’ Awoooo!
We pause here to acknowledge the wonderful conservation effect of the humble tsetse fly. Without it and the anopheles mosquito a lot more concrete would have been poured on Africa, and a lot more fences would have divided up the land.
In 1869 Baines led one of the first gold prospecting expeditions to Mashonaland between the Gweru and Hunyani rivers. He was apparently given permission by King Lobengula, leader of the Matabele nation in what became Rhodesia, then Zimbabwe. He later traveled in Natal and witnessed the coronation of Cetshwayo.
Thomas Baines never achieved financial security. He died in poverty in Durban in 1875 of dysentery, at the age of 55 while writing up his latest expeditions. He is buried in West Street Cemetery. A generous eulogy was read in London at a meeting of the Royal Geographical Society by its President, Sir Henry Rawlinson.
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Thank you Jane Carruthers; Jane Carruthers again; His art 1. 2. 3. ; britannica.com brief biography; wikipedia;
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Baines wrote another book in 1871: Shifts and Expedients of Camp Life, Travel & Exploration, by Baines and Lord. My kind of book! I’ll blog about Galton’s book separately, as I’m pleased to see Baines acknowledged it. I couldn’t resist buying that one – Galton’s first edition was in 1855.
I’m exploring the explorers who were lucky enough to see ‘Africa In The Earlies.’ Before the anthropocene. Before plastic. This guy is one of the best. I mean, just look at his wagon! It even beats my kombi! And my 1975 Bushman Tracker1 Off-Road trailer!
William John Burchell (1781-1863) – naturalist and explorer, was the son of a botanist and proprietor of Fulham Nursery, London. At the exceptionally young age of 23 he was elected a Fellow of the Linnean Society of London on the basis of his reputation as a botanist.
Two years later he became the (English) East India Company’s naturalist on the island of St Helena. One of his tasks was to develop a botanic garden where plants from the Far East could recover on their way to England. He did botanical surveys of the island, collected and sketched its flora, studied its geology, and collected insects. In 1810, following interference in his plans for the development of the botanic garden by a new acting governor, he resigned his post and sailed for the Cape.
There, he collected plants in Cape Town and on trips to Tulbagh and Caledon. He learned some Dutch and made preparations for traveling, including having a wagon made to his specifications.
It had to accommodate fifty scientific reference books, his flute, his drawing materials, his bed, his specimen boxes, his work desk, rifles and ammunition, a medicine kit, and items like snuff and beads to give as gifts. He ‘painted his wagon’ on the trail – this impressive picture, he wrote, took him twenty seven days to complete, in total 120 hours of work! I think it’s superb! MY kind of picture!
In June 1811 he left for Klaarwater (now Griquatown) in the company of some missionaries, whose station he would use as a base. From there he traveled with Khoi guides for almost four years and 7000 km. Burchell was a humanist who firmly believed that ‘the good and worthy of every nation are equally our countrymen … and equally claim our hospitality and friendship.’ It is likely that this ethic explains why he was so well received by the local inhabitants on his southern African travels.
Personable and unassuming, he wrote eloquently of his love for South Africa. He learned to speak some Dutch while in Cape Town, and spoke it to his Hottentot companions, Speelman and Juli. In actually recording their names he was different to many who neither recognised nor gave credit to the people without whom they would not have been able to explore.
He was immensely talented: he could draw and paint; he could play several musical instruments; he had an understanding of science, in particular flora and fauna.
Perhaps his most enduring legacy is this map of his travels. It not only follows his route carefully but is annotated, showing intriguing details of places he named, animals he first came across, and people he met. The map reflects local Hottentot or Dutch names – he was always respectful of names already given to places, and never replaced them with Eurocentric ones, like other explorers did. ‘Victoria this, Victoria that!‘ Gimme a break! For instance, he referred to the Orange River as the !Gariep River, the original Hottentot name.
First he went on short trips from Klaarwater to present Schmidts Drift on the Vaal River and to the Asbestos Mountains. He then travelled to Graaff-Reinet and back, following a route through areas not previously explored botanically. His next trip took him to Dithakong, north-east of Kuruman, and further north into the country of the Thlaping as far as the present Heuningvlei, and back again. In January 1813 he traveled to Graaff-Reinet, and from there to Grahamstown and to his most easterly point at the mouth of the Fish River. He then slowly returned to Cape Town through the coastal districts, arriving in April 1815.
Although Burchell traveled mainly through regions of the Colony that had been visited before, his descriptions were more accurate and comprehensive than those of other travelers, and – unlike some others! – his enjoyment and appreciation was obvious: ‘Nothing but breathing the air of Africa and actually walking through it and beholding its inhabitants can communicate those gratifying and literally indescribable sensations… and … a scene … which may be highly instructive for a contemplative mind …‘
He collected 63 000 natural history specimens, most of them plants, seeds and bulbs, and 56 fungi and 90 lichens; but also skins, skeletons, birds, insects and fish. It was probably the largest natural history collection ever to have been made by one person in Africa and contained many new species. His notes on these specimens were accurate and detailed and included not only exact localities of species, but also the distribution of plants in the areas he passed through.
He made some 500 valuable sketches depicting landscapes, botanical and zoological specimens, and portraits of native inhabitants. He was a versatile scholar and some think the greatest naturalist that South Africa has known.
Burchell left the Cape in August 1815. During the following years he wrote the first description of the square-lipped rhinoceros, and prepared his major travel journal for publication. Travels in the interior of southern Africa appeared in two volumes, and included accurate and painstaking descriptions of his explorations up to Dithakong, plus a large and detailed map of the region up to 24 degrees south and as far east as the Keiskamma River.
Unfortunately the third and last volume of this classic work was never published and his diaries relating to the later period are missing. – BUT now a new book: Burchell’s African Odyssey – Revealing the Return Journey 1812-1815 – see https://wp.me/p1OKrp-tZ –
Burchell was a courageous and resourceful person with a penetrating intellect. His plant collection went to the Royal Botanical Gardens at Kew. He donated 43 of his animal skins to the British Museum but only seven were stuffed. He visited the Museum a few years later to find his precious skins ruined by maggots and moths. The rest of his records went to Oxford University. Sadly, he reacted rashly to this treatment and resented some of the criticism he received, thereafter largely withdrawing from most public interaction. By the age of 82, he was a disillusioned recluse. After an unsuccessful attempt at suicide by gunshot, he hanged himself in a garden shed.
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After his death his sister presented Burchell’s botanical collections, drawings and manuscripts to the herbarium of Kew Gardens, while his insect and bird material was given to the University Museum at Oxford. He was a perfectionist, and his catalogue of this collection was a model of careful work. In addition to the birds described as new in his Travels, others were described by W. Jardine and other ornithologists. He provided some of the first descriptions of freshwater fishes from South Africa in his Travels, namely those of the small mouth yellowfish and the sharptooth catfish. He is commemorated in the names of several species, including Burchell’s zebra, Burchell’s Sandgrouse, Burchell’s Coucal, and the plant genus Burchellia.
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s23a.org; Oxford University Museum of Natural History; Following in Burchell’s Tracks – magic by Lucille Davie; Blog on Burchell; Cape History by Lynne Thompson; For the best info on Burchell, read Susan Buchanan’s book; Roger Stewart and Brian Warner have written a very interesting biographical sketch;
Johan August Wahlberg (1810 – 1856) was another Swedish naturalist and explorer. He traveled in southern Africa between 1838 and 1856, especially in Natal and South West Africa, sending thousands of natural history specimens back to Sweden.
The journals of his travels are generally brief and objective (and I haven’t been able to find them yet! So I know little about him, even though his name is honoured in many species – moths, lizards, birds, plants, etc), and his portrayal of people he met is usually reliable and unprejudiced.
Wahlberg is commemorated in Wahlberg’s Eagle, Wahlberg’s epauletted fruit bat and the beautiful little bush squeaker frog Arthroleptis wahlbergi. That’s my pic on top of one of the little squeakers; fully grown, he’s the size of your top finger digit. This one lives in our garden in Westville.
‘Sport’ in those days consisted of shooting as much as possible for the tally, the ‘bag.’ These pale chaps ran amuck, trying to score a century, even though cricket was only 240 years old in 1838.
His diary in Natal: 23 August – near Umgeni river: (shot) 1 Ichneumon taenianotus (a mongoose); 1 Boschbock; 1 red-buck (red duiker?); 1 birds.
‘I was so intent on the bucks that the fall of darkness took me (by) surprise. I lost the path and so entangled myself in the thickets that I sure that I should have to pass the night in the woods. I shot six alarm-shots. I was glad to hear them answered by regular salvos from the village. Flayed the boschbock and left the carcase in the wood.’
31 August – near Umkamas river: ‘Continued hunting hippopotamus; no luck. In the evening, accompanied only by one Hottentot Bastard we came sufficiently near to hippopotamus. Two bullets went whistling at the same moment, and found their mark in the head of a young sea-cow. She came to the surface several times, spouting blood high in the air. An adult now appeared; once again our shots sounded as one; it showed the whole of its body above water, dived, a strong furrow appeared in the water, moved rapidly towards the shore, and soon the whole body of the monster was visible above the surface, in form and attitude like a gigantic pig. With incredible swiftness it hurled itself once more into the stream, and rose several times in succession, each time spouting blood. Darkness fell and we were forced to return.’
1st September – ‘We looked in vain for the hippopotamus.’
2nd – ‘Saw numerous buffalo but was unable to get near them. Clouds of locusts darken the sky. We go further afield to a smaller stream.’
3rd – ‘Lying in wait for the buffalo. Hear them approaching at full gallop through the bushes. Climb an acacia. Give the first bull a bullet, which makes him fall back upon his hind-quarters. He gets to his legs again and escapes.’
Well, at least this time Africa got its revenge! Wahlberg was killed by a wounded elephant while exploring along the Thamalakane river about 10 km northwest of Maun just south of the Okavango Delta in today’s Botswana.
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wikipedia; van riebeeck society; alchetron.com; aviation demography unit;
Louis Adulphe Joseph Delegorgue (1814-1850) – French hunter, naturalist, collector and author, was orphaned at the age of four and brought up in the home of his grandfather at Douai, where he largely educated himself and was introduced to natural history.
Though he had inherited enough to be well provided for, Delegorgue joined the merchant navy at the age of sixteen, traveling among other places to West Africa and the West Indies. Five years later, probably inspired by Le Vaillant’s books, he decided to undertake a journey of exploration in southern Africa. He acquired the skills of a naturalist, including taxidermy, preparation of specimens, keeping records and drawing illustrations. He intended to collect specimens to sell in Europe, and to hunt for sport.
Arriving in Simon’s Bay in May 1838, he explored the by now relatively well-known Cape Colony till May 1839, when he sailed for Natal in the Mazeppa, in the company of J.A. Wahlberg and F.C.C. Krauss. He traveled, hunted and collected widely in Natal (now KwaZulu-Natal), sometimes with Wahlberg. His description of a hunting trip southwards to the Umzinto River in his book especially fascinated me, as he described the beauty of the area around the present Vernon Crookes Nature Reserve.
He traveled into Zululand to the Tugela River and on to Lake St. Lucia. In the Berea forest in present Durban he collected the type specimen of the Eastern Bronze-naped Pigeon which he cheekily named after himself, Columba delegorguei. Hey, if I find a new animal I’m going to call it Something swanepoeli. Maybe even subsp. koosi. It took me ages before I finally saw my first ‘Delegorgue’s Pigeon,’ above a mist forest at Mbona in the Natal Midlands.
In May 1843 he traveled to the Free State – must have passed through Harrismith! – and on into the Transvaal. From Potchefstroom he crossed the Magaliesberg and followed the Limpopo River down to its confluence with the Marico River and on northwards as far as the tropic of Capricorn. During his travels in the Transvaal he collected the Harlequin Quail, Coturnix delegorguei.
Returning to Port Natal in April 1844, Delegorgue left South Africa for France, via St. Helena. For the next few years his time was taken up with the preparation and publication of his two-volume book, Voyage dans l’Afrique Australe…, which was published in Paris in 1847.
His book – the first of these explorers whose actual account I read – sparked my interest in finding out more about these lucky souls who saw Southern Africa before the anthropocene!
It contains a detailed account of his travels and adventures, and includes a sketch map of KwaZulu-Natal, a Zulu vocabulary, a catalogue of lepidoptera, entomological notes, and a description by an anonymous author (maybe himself!?) of the new pigeon species Columba delegorguei.
Early in 1850 he left France on another expedition, this time to West Africa. Damn! He died of malaria on board ship along the West African coast.
Beware, beware the Bight of the Benin, for few come out though many go in – old Royal Navy rhyme
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I love reading about these early European explorers of Southern Africa, so I decided to write short sketches on some of them. Here’s my fifth, perhaps the most flamboyant and famous of the bunch. His accounts, like mine, may occasionally need to be taken with a pinch of salt, but his contributions were definitely huge. He got a bad rap from the London-centric world of his time, but a closer look shows he was way better than many of the explorers praised by them insular Poms! In London, Who You Are is more important than what you did.
His main researcher – Ian Glenn, Levaillant expert – rates him highly as South Africa’s first explorer, first real ornithologist, first travel writer, anthropologist, humanitarian and first investigative reporter! That’s an impressive list – and all for soundly explained reasons. Glenn might even have added accurate, talented cartographer too! He does say, talking of his maps, that Levaillant may have taken the first ‘selfie!’
Glenn lays the blame for his undeserved adverse reputation on Anglo-centric and Afrikaner-centric misunderstanding and mis-translation – some likely deliberate; certainly plenty of deliberately censoring some of his writing to leave out observations critical of European conduct and admiring of the Africans’ decency, knowledge and skills. Unlike most Europeans visiting less-known places, he acknowledged the talents and knowledge of local people, giving them credit whete due and naming them. Some people didn’t like that.
François Levaillant (1753-1824) – explorer, author, naturalist, and ornithologist extraordinaire was born in Paramaribo, the capital of Dutch Guiana (now Suriname) on the Atlantic coast. So he was the first fellow-colonist to write about exploring the Cape. My previous Southern Africa explorers were from old countries: Sweden, Scotland and Holland, but Levaillant was born in a Dutch colony and grew up in that freer society. His French father, originally from Metz in NE France, was a rich merchant and served as French Consul. His parents had a great interest in natural history, and the family frequently traveled to various parts of Guiana, that beautiful South American Dutch colony.
As a youngster, Levaillant began collecting insects and caterpillars, which he arranged according to his own system. Later when he focused on birds he used a similar system to identify them, giving only appropriate and descriptive French names to species that he discovered and refusing to use the systematic nomenclature introduced by Carl Linnaeus. Some of the names he used remain in use today as common names for birds.
When Levaillant was twelve, his family left Dutch Guiana and traveled to Europe. They landed at the Netherlands and eventually went to Metz where Levaillant began to study the art of preserving animals. Prior to this time, Levaillant had dried and preserved the skins of birds, but in Metz he began to discover how taxidermy allowed birds to be stuffed so that they looked life-like.
Levaillant then spent about two years in Germany and about seven years in the Alsace and Lorraine regions near the French-German border. During that time, he not only killed immense numbers of birds but also spent an inordinate amount of time observing birds and animals. Dutch-speaking Levaillant now spoke three languages: The Dutch he grew up with fluently and his father’s French and now German very well.
Back in Paris he fondly remembered his time as a boy in the forests of Dutch Guiana and, deciding to obtain feathered inhabitants from unexplored regions of the earth, he left Paris for Amsterdam, where he became acquainted with Jacob Temminck, treasurer of the Dutch East India Company and also a collector of natural history objects. Levaillant examined Temminck’s impressive bird collection and aviary. From Amsterdam he embarked for the Cape of Good Hope.
He arrived in South Africa in March 1781 and described many new species of birds – several are named after him. Levaillant was one of the last people ever to see a Bloubok or Blue Antelope as one of his hunters killed one of the last ever recorded specimens near Swellendam. I wonder if he ate Blaauwbok steak? For birds he preferred to use descriptive French names such as ‘bateleur’ (meaning ‘tumbler or tight-rope walker’) for this distinctive African eagle, and ‘vocifer’ for the fish eagle, for its loud ringing call. A collage of his drawing of the bateleur and a photo of one flying make up the featured picture. For his books he was among the first to use colour plates for illustrating birds and wisely used much better artists than himself. Compare his bateleur to this toucan:
Read his description of just three cuckoos – of the 2000 birds he collected – and compare to any British explorers’ dry accounts:
I found a great many of the golden cuckoos described by Buffon under the name of the green-golden cuckoo of the Cape. This bird is undoubtedly the most beautiful of its species, for its plumage is enriched with white, green, and gold. Perched on the tops of large trees, it continually repeats, and with varied modulation, these syllables, di, di, didric, as distinctly as I have written them; for this reason I have named it the Didric.
I killed also several pretty birds; and among others . . a cuckoo which I named the Criard, because its (loud and) shrill cry may indeed be heard at a great distance; this cry, or, to express myself more correctly, this song, has no resemblance to that of our cuckoo in Europe, and its plumage also is entirely different.
Pit (Piet) having brought me the bird, which was a female, I ordered him to return instantly to the spot where he had killed it, not doubting that he would find the male; but he begged me to dispense with his services upon this occasion, as he durst not venture to fire at it. I however continued to insist upon his obeying; but what was my astonishment when I saw him with an affected air, and in a tone almost lamentable, declare that some misfortune would undoubtedly ensue; that he had scarcely killed the female, when the male began to pursue him with great fury, continually repeating Pit-me-wrou, Pit-me-wrou! The syllables it seems to pronounce are three Dutch words, which signify Peter my wife; and Pit imagines that the bird, calling him by his name, requested him to return his mate.
On his return he published Voyage dans l’intérieur de l’Afrique (1790, 2 vols.), and Second voyage dans l’intérieur de l’Afrique (1796, 3 vols.), both of which were best sellers across Europe, translated into several languages. He also published Histoire naturelle des oiseaux d’Afrique (1796–1808, 6 vols.) arguably the best bird book ever. Certainly the best at the time and for a long time after – available today, if you can get it, at around R650 000.
Levaillant’s famous map (below) was almost 9ft wide by 6ft high. The geographical part of the map was designed by Perrier, the five inset drawings and the animals by Van-Leen and the birds by Reinold. His books were hugely popular – in part perhaps because he didn’t mind embellishing! He told a good story, and he himself was a good subject, never mind his pet baboon Kees! In his map Levaillant also portrays himself as having gone further east and north than in reality.
On his way north Levaillant slept at the well-known ‘Heerenlogement’ or ‘Gentlemen’s lodging’, a cave or rock overhang, where he chiselled his name (‘F. Vailant’) into the rock. With its unfailing nearby spring, the wild but hospitable camp was so named by travellers along the old route through the Sandveld, about 300km north of the Cape of Good Hope in the direction of Namaqualand. Explorers, including Van der Stel, Thunberg, Masson, Zeyher and Paterson, camped on the level area below the rock-shelter. There are also faded paintings in red ochre made by San travelers many years before European vistors. From an overhead rock-crevice grows a gnarled wild fig, Ficus salicifolia var. cordata, which is probably the same hoary old tree described by Levaillant during his visit there in 1783.
Controversy: Fifty years later an analysis of Le Vaillant’s collections made by Sundevall identified ten birds that could not be assigned definitely to any species, ten that were fabricated from multiple species and fifty species that could not have come from the Cape region as claimed. His reputation has understandably suffered as a result of these errors (or fabrications? or was he misled?), but recent re-evaluations, such as by Peter Mundy and especially, Ian Glenn, have argued that he deserves the high reputation as the first great modern ornithologist, and as the father of African ornithology. Here’s his book, the first – or anyway best-to-date-by-far – book on African birds; Ahead of its time in 1796, it set trends followed to this day and was truly the ‘Bewick’ (1797), the ‘Audobon’ (1838) or the ‘Roberts’ (1940) of its day!
Levaillant retired to a small property located at La Noue, near Sézanne. Persistent rumours had him ‘dying in poverty in an attic’ in 1824, aged 71. Ian Glenn’s research shows that though Levaillant may have been short of cash at times, he never lived in an attic and at his death he left a not insubstantial country estate to his heirs.
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Almost everything written about Levaillant – especially in English – will have some errors, this post included! So the book to read if you really want to know about Levaillant is Ian Glenn’s The First Safari – jacana media (I’ve ordered mine from raru.co.za).
Later: It arrived! It’s wonderful! Twenty five years of researching this amazing and often misrepresented explorer led Ian Glenn to publishing a beautiful hard cover, dust-jacketed, old-fashioned, matt-paged (not glossy – yes!), real book full of fascinating findings. Do read it – there’s even a surprise 1781 Swanepoel in it! **
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Quintessentially a man of the Enlightenment (he named one of his sons Jean-Jacques Rousseau), Le Vaillant recorded the appalling treatment of the indigenous people, including their murder and, in one sickening account, their use for target practice by settlers.When the text was published in 1789, a review noted the “injustices, cruelties, robberies, indiscipline, perverse barbarities against the natives” that Le Vaillant had exposed.
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Some sources: http://www.vanriebeecksociety.co.za; wikipedia; http://www.pletthistory.org; http://www.somerset-east.co.za; http://www.francoislevaillant.com; http://www.bidsquare.com; Ian Glenn; Levaillant’s book on african birds; http://www.geriwalton.com; Levaillant was alright; http://www.capeorchids.co.za/history.htm; cuckoo calls: xeno-canto.org; https://www.geni.com/people/Johannes-Swanepoel/6000000001873039608#;
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** When le Vaillant arrived at the Cape the local ‘magistrate’ gave him an experienced local guide to show him around. As I have repeatedly said in this amateur ‘explorer’ series of mine, none of these explorers would have achieved much had they not had local guides. This chosen guide had experience – he had acted as guide in 1776 for a Mr Swellengrebel, son of a Cape Governor, but he now happened to be in prison, sentenced to life imprisonment for killing a lady. And yet he was released – it does seem temporarily – in 1781 to show the young le Vaillant around. Why?
Turns out le Vaillant had connections in high places; and the prisoner had ‘only’ killed a Hottentot lady. The name of the lucky prisoner who got a furlough from his life sentence: Pieter Swanepoel.
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From the Mail & Guardian:
In an excellent preface to Levaillant’s Travels into the Interior of South Africa Volume 1 (Van Riebeeck Society 2007), Prof Ian Glenn boldly claims that Le Vaillant “became the first investigative reporter on South Africa”.
Le Vaillant, in effect, made his way in under the auspices of a gunner’s mate and feigned illness to disembark at the Cape.
Conditions at the Dutch settlement were kept under wraps by the Dutch East India Company and were largely unknown.
See: http://mg.co.za/article/2013-02-01-the-man-who-put-us-on-the-map
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These guys saw Southern Africa before the Anthropocene – lucky fishes! I love reading about their fresh look on the amazing African fauna and flora as their local guides showed them around.
Robert Jacob Gordon (1743 – 1795) – was a Dutch explorer, soldier, artist, naturalist and linguist of Scottish descent.
Starting in 1773 he went on more expeditions than any other 18th century explorer of southern Africa. His first was with Thunberg and Masson. They undertook a trip on foot exploring the mountains between Cape Town and False Bay.
Johannes Schoemaker, an artist, accompanied Gordon on all his journeys, producing a fine record of their travels. Gordon was a diligent recorder of data such as altitude, compass headings and hours traveled and other information which he would later incorporate in a great map he planned.
For most of his journeys he followed well-travelled routes, sometimes joined by others going the same way. His equipment was carried by a single wagon, while he rode on horseback, ranging across the veld, observing, recording and occasionally hunting. He probly ate Blaauwbok steak…
One trip was to Swellendam; from there via Plattekloof to Beervlei and on to present-day Aberdeen, across the Sneeuwberg to a point slightly west of Colesberg. He then roughly retraced his outbound route as far as the Sneeuwberg, then headed south-east to Cookhouse.
He reached the confluence of the Grootte Rivier (Gariep / Orange) and the Caledon, about 1000km east of Cape Town.
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Gordon’s home Schoonder Sigt (‘beautiful view’) was one of the ten most conspicuous large manors of Cape Town. In 1800 it was purchased by George Rex, an Englishman believed to be the son of King George III and his first wife Hannah Lightfoot whom he secretly married before he ascended to the throne and wed Queen Charlotte. Myself I think he was actually George Rex, son of John Rex, farmhand from Paddock Wood, but hey! new country, new identity! What happens in the Colony stays in the Colony, OK!?
Over the years the Schoonder Sigt residence saw many transformations from the original manor house. It was changed to an apartment block called Sunny Lodge; then it became The Gardens Nursing Home, a seven-ward psychiatric hospital specializing in rehabilitating ‘people living in the fast lane’ and ‘housewives on the busy cocktail circuit’! In 1973 it was changed to resemble a Spanish villa complete with scalloped plasterwork and cactus, and was renamed Flower Street Villa! Luckily that was undone when in 2009 it was completely renovated and restored to something like its former glory as The Three Boutique Hotel, corner of Schoonder and Flower streets.
On 25 October 1795 Gordon committed suicide in Schoonder Sigt soon after the blerrie British annexed the colony in the chaos and uncertainty following the French invasion of the Netherlands. As commander of the Dutch garrison he had probably seen the futility of fighting against the superior British forces that invaded the Cape. So even though it had been governor Sluysken that actually surrendered, the decision was held against Gordon by some of his countrymen.
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wikipedia; rijksmuseum.nl; robertjacobgordon.nl;
As I travel around Southern Africa I often think, ‘I wonder what it was like here before we spoilt it?’ I especially would love to have seen the open grasslands, one of the habitats we have changed the most. I imagine the highveld grasslands unfenced; miles of grass with koppies; very few trees, but wherever there was a south-facing krans or valley, or even little damp folds, there’d be trees and tree ferns and special plants and animals. And hidden in the grasslands, many special little flowers.
So whenever I can, I read the early explorers’ accounts with great interest and a pinch of salt. Here’s my short pen-sketch number three – the third lucky fella, our first Scot, who saw new places and discovered new things (fair warning: amateur historian on the loose!).
Francis Masson (1741 – 1805) – was a Scottish botanist and gardener, and Kew Gardens’ first plant hunter.
Masson was the first plant collector to be specifically sent abroad by King George III’s Kew Gardens’ unofficial director, Sir Joseph Banks; Masson sailed with James Cook on the HMS Resolution to South Africa, landing in October 1772. Masson stayed three years, during which time he sent over 500 species of plant to England.
He disembarked, and Anders Sparrman embarked, joining Cook’s ship on a three year journey.
By contrast, he later traveled widely in North America collecting plants and seeds, visiting Niagara Peninsula and Lake Ontario, amassing 24 new species in seven years.
In October 1785 he left England on his second voyage to South Africa. The political climate here had altered much since his first visit, owing to the attempt by a donnerse British expeditionary force to annexe the Cape in 1781. The restrictions imposed on his movements by the Dutch Governor caused Masson considerable frustration, and when he sailed for England in March 1795, his plant collections bore little comparison with those of his triumphant first expedition. Quite right, too, bleddy Engelse thinking they owned everything! And Scots representing them musn’t complain if we lump them with the Engelse.
As it is he discovered more than 1700 new species, including well known and loved plants such as Agapanthus, Amaryllis, Zantedeschia the arum lily, Strelitzia, the King Protea, Kniphofia the red hot poker, etc.
Not all our explorers were adventurers. Masson was sent to the Cape – this was work! He was paid £100 a year! He whinged a bit: ‘The country is encompassed on all sides with very high mountains, almost perpendicular, consisting of bare rocks, without the least appearance of vegetation; and upon the whole, has a most melancholy effect on the mind.’ Think about this, Capetonians, a SCOT was made melancholy by your pozzie! To rub it in, read what Delegorgue said about Natal!
In 1773, while botanizing in the mountains near the River Zonderend, Masson described the struggles of the day and his conflicting emotions: ‘Climbed many dreadful precipices until we arrived at the dark and gloomy woods with trees 80 to 100 feet high interspersed with climbing shrubs of various kinds. Trees were often growing out of perpendicular rock and among these the water sometimes fell in cascades over rock 200 feet perpendicular with an awful noise . . . I endured the day with much fatigue, and the sequestered and unfrequented woods, with a mixture of horror and admiration.’
Masson’s only book, Stapeliae Novae, on the South African succulents also known as ‘carrion-flowers’ because of their fetid smell, was published in 1796.
The large collections of living plants and seeds sent back from the Cape by Masson set off a craze for Cape flowers in England at the end of the eighteenth century. Nearly one-third of the 786 plates of flowering plants in the first 20 volumes of William Curtis’s Botanical Magazine were introduced through Masson’s efforts. A wealth of proteas, gladioli, calendulas, xeranthemums, hibiscuses, ericas, tritonias, lobelias, amaryllises, gardenias, pelargoniums, stapelias, and massonias!
Earlier explorer Thunberg named this Cape Massonia pustulata after Masson:
Poor bugger should have stuck to South Africa, even if it was Kaapstad. He went to Canada and died of the cold!
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Lest we forget: All these explorers told tales of derring-do and how THEY explored. Actually, they were usually shepherded around by local inhabitants who were generously showing them their ‘backyard.’ None of them would have made it without local knowledge. So when they say they ‘discovered’ things, usually these places, plants and animals were known to other humans before. That said, we are grateful these guys recorded them for posterity, writing and sketching so we could share in the thrill of their ‘discoveries.’
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wikipedia; doaks.org; biographi.ca; explorersgarden.com; thegardenstrust.blog; Kew Gardens; Joseph Banks;
Look at this book! Wow!
I often think ‘I wonder what it was like here before we spoilt it’ as I travel around Southern Africa. I especially would love to have seen the open grasslands, one of the habitats we have changed the most. So whenever I can I read the early explorers’ accounts with great interest and a pinch of salt. Here’s short pen-sketch number two: Another Swede.
Anders Sparrman (1748 – 1820) – was a Swedish botanist, naturalist and abolitionist – and another of ‘the seventeen apostles’ of Carl Linnaeus.
He sailed for the Cape of Good Hope in January 1772 to take up a post as a tutor. When Captain Cook arrived there later in the HMS Resolution at the start of his second voyage, Sparrman was taken on as assistant naturalist to Johann and Georg Foster. After the voyage he returned to Cape Town in July 1775 and practiced medicine, earning enough to finance a nine-month journey to the eastern Cape. Traveling by horse and ox wagon and accompanied by a local guide, the young Daniel F. Immelman, and – I bet – indigenous local people to actually show the way.
He first went to the warm spring at present Caledon, where he ‘took the waters’ and collected for about a month. He then continued towards Mossel Bay and via Attaquas Kloof, near Robinson Pass to the Little Karoo, following the Langkloof eastwards to Algoa Bay. The furthest point they reached was on the Great Fish River near Cookhouse. His excavation of a stone mound in the Eastern Cape has been described as the first archaeological excavation in southern Africa.
His account of his travels in South Africa was published in English in 1785 as ‘A voyage to the Cape of Good Hope, towards the Antarctic polar circle, and round the world: But chiefly into the country of the Hottentots and Caffres, from the year 1772 to 1776.’ (2 volumes). It is regarded as the first personal account of extensive travels in the settled parts of the Cape of Good Hope and the first fairly accurate account of the territory and its natural history. He spoke of the local people having ‘a great quantity of cattle, and seemed to live very happily in their way. As soon as ever they had taken their cattle up from pasture they milked them; an occupation they intermixed with singing and dancing. We seldom see such happiness and contentment as seems to be indicated by this festive custom, in a handful of people totally uncultivated, in the midst of a perfect desert. . . we were received by them with a friendly simplicity and homely freedom, which by no means lessened them in our thoughts as men. They presented us with milk, and danced at our request; at the same time giving us to understand, that our fame, as being a singular people with plaited hair, as well as flower-collectors and viper-catchers, had reached them long before our arrival.’
He described much fauna and flora, including the aardwolf, the Greater Honeyguide, the African buffalo and the Essenhout tree which he named Ekebergia capensis after his sponsor Ekeberg.
Other naturalists named this grasshopper and bream after him:
Sparrman was regarded as a competent and likeable person during his years of scientific activity, clever and steady, though a little prim. According to Per Wastberg, a lifelong admirer – who admittedly may have invented some of Sparrman’s traits in his ‘biographical novel’ – Sparrman adored life and the richness of nature and saw happiness in the native African population who lived in harmony with their surroundings. He saw how slavery was destroying the African people and – out of sync with his era – he was a staunch abolitionist, attending and speaking at Wilberforce’s London forums. He avoided the populist travelogues of the day which aimed to entertain people by promoting deceits such as the ‘savagery’ of the natives.
Despite his groundbreaking achievements scientifically, he died in poverty, a physician to the poor, forgotten and maligned by his peers and society.
wikipedia; vanriebeecksociety.co.za; s2a3.org;
I often think, ‘I wonder what it was like here before we spoilt it?’ as I travel around Southern Africa. I especially would love to have seen the open grasslands, one of the habitats we have changed the most.
So whenever I can I read the early explorers’ accounts with great interest. As a fellow explorer, I decided to write a short pen-sketch on some of them. Pinch of salt, of course, as I add my own non-expert comment and my ‘kind and knowledgeable locals’ bias. My theory: Despite their tales of derring-do and how ‘they did it all by themselves’, they – like us centuries later – were visitors, shown around by local people who knew what they were doing. These brash newcomers would boast, ‘I discovered Lake Ngami!’ while modest Kalahari folk would likely have said, ‘But… it has been here all along!’
Carl Pehr Thunberg (1743 – 1828) – was a Swedish naturalist and one of ‘the seventeen apostles’ of Carl Linnaeus. He has been called ‘The Father of South African Botany.’ He went to the Cape in 1771, undertaking field trips and journeys into the interior to the north of Saldanha Bay, east along the Breede River Valley through the Langkloof as far as the Gamtoos River and returning by way of the Little Karoo. Local guide JA Auge showed them the way. And I bet indigenous folk actually showed JA Auge the way.
In the Cape, Thunberg met fellow Swede Anders Sparrman and Francis Masson, a Scots gardener sent to Cape Town to collect plants for the Royal Gardens at Kew. They were immediately drawn together by their shared interests. During one of their trips, on which they will have been accompanied by kind and knowledgeable local people, they were joined by Dutchman Robert Jacob Gordon, a soldier on leave from his regiment in the Netherlands. Thunberg and Masson undertook two further inland expeditions: To the Eastern Cape as far as the Sundays River, and to the Roggeveld. In the Knysna forest a buffalo – was it wounded? – gored and killed two of their horses. Thunberg collected a significant number of specimens of both flora and fauna. He was the first professional botanist who personally made extensive collections of South African plants and studied them at first hand. During his three year stay at the Cape he climbed Table Mountain fifteen times and collected over 3000 plant species, of which more than 1000 were new to science.
The beautiful flower Black-Eyed Susan – our feature picture – is named Thunbergia alata after this traveler / explorer / collector.
Although he was actually the first private visitor to travel far into the interior, he was slow to print, and his account of his travels was published after those of Francis Masson and Anders Sparrman.
Thunberg donated his extensive natural history collections to Uppsala University, Museum of Evolution and Zoological Museum: 27 500 plant specimens, 25 000 insects, 6 000 molluscs and shells, 1 200 birds and 300 mammals.
In his book ‘Travels at the Cape of Good Hope 1772 – 1775’ he wrote: ‘Roads, that can be properly so called, are not to be found in all this southern part of Africa; yet the way which people in general take, when they travel, is pretty well beaten in the neighbourhood of the Cape; farther down in the country indeed, very often not the least vestige of a road appears. Therefore in plains that are either very extensive, or covered with bush, it may easily happen that a traveller shall lose his way; so that he ought to be well acquainted with, and accurately observe the marks, by which he may get into the right road again. He must see then whether there be any sheep’s dung in the fields, which shews that there is a farm-house in the vicinity; and likewise, whether he can discover any herds of cattle grazing, or any cultivated land.’ No drought in the Cape during his travels: ‘Almost every day we were wet to the skin, in consequence of deluging showers of rain, which were sometimes accompanied with thunder.’
Thunberg was regarded as a generous person who cared deeply for others. He became famous and honoured the world over in his own lifetime. He was a member of the Swedish Academy of Sciences for 56 years, serving as president in 1784. In 1785 the Swedish king honoured him as a Knight of the Royal Order of Vasa. This meant he got to wear a distinctive green and white habit on formal occasions, with green breeches, a white sash with a gold fringe around the waist, a black top hat with gold hat band and a plume of white ostrich and and black egret feathers and a pair of green boots with gilded spurs. All my life . . . He married Brigitta C. Ruda and they adopted a son and a daughter – ah, a good man; I wonder if he’s an ancestor of brave Greta, the activist ‘horrifyingly’ asking old men to please not wreck Earth’s climate for their grandkids? Also, he never wore his green n white kit n feathers in front of the children. Kind.
He succeeded the younger Linnaeus as professor of medicine and botany at the University of Uppsala , a post he held to his death, when he got buried in his top hat.
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Confession: I made up the bits about the top hat and not scaring the children.
wikipedia; vanriebeecksociety.co.za; s2a3.org.za;
