TOPIC:

Sgt H. Brent

South Africa-Nooitgedacht: Airlie British Cemetery

Grave of Major Robert Lipton Macgregor

Lieutenant Walter Oliphant Arnot



MERWEVILLE'S AUSTRALIAN "ENGLISHMAN"

On the outskirts of town is a signpost pointing the way to "The Englishman's Grave". Nearby in the veld is a tiny marble cross which marks the grave of a lieutenant from Australia, who served with the British forces during the Anglo-Boer War. Walter Oliphant Arnot was a member of the 3rd South Australian Contingent. He served with distinction, but died by his own hand on April 16, 1902, He left a strange note in his Book of Common Prayer for his wife, Eleanor Frederica Rosevear Seabrook, whom he had married in June 1888. He affectionately called her Nell. By 1900 they had four children aged between 4 and 9. On a page, torn from his pocket book, Arnot had drawn a sketch map of the road and across it was written "This was not for the Boers". On the back of the page were the words: "I swear before God, whom I am going to meet, that I am innocent." It was signed W O Arnot. In his prayer book was a photograph of his wife and between its last page and back cover was a picture of his four children. On the fourth page, written in shaking hand was: "I was never in any concern with a Boer or Boer Agent by all we ever had between us good held me and you my darling - goodbye, Walter." Rail tickets to Matjiesfontein and Laingsburg , a quotation from Shakespeare and letters to his wife and children, were also found in his pocket.

AN EXCELLENT STOCKMAN

Walter Oliphant Arnot, was the son of Dr Henry Arnot, MD RN. He was born in Essex on September 9, 1860 and educated at the Royal Naval School, in New Cross. When he finished college he moved to Australia to take up sheep farming. He was 19 years old. He did well and the following year was approached to manage a large sheep station. During the next eight years he held similar positions on other major stations and was complemented on his stock management procedures during a long drought. He moved to Adelaide in 1888 and joined "A" Battery Field Artillery. Later that year he decided to marry. Arnot was an efficient gunner and was qualifying for a commission when the Anglo-Boer War broke out. He joined the 3rd South Australian Contingent, the S A Bushmen Corps, as a sergeant and left for South Africa in March 1900. This corps, funded by public subscription, was basically a scouting and intelligence force. Soon after arrival at Beira Arnot was promoted to lieutenant. He faced several problems as his unit moved towards the War zone. He later joined the Rhodesian Field Artillery. This led to service pay complications which left his wife financially distressed.

SAD END TO PATROL

A few days before he died Arnot had left Laingsburg in a mule drawn cart on a scouting patrol. He was accompanied by Private John Sparkes, of the 16th Lancers, who was stationed at Laingsburg and in charge of the Intelligence Department's horse unit. Also in the party was Abraham January, known as Jacob, a scout and resident of Laingsburg. They spent the first night at Blaaubank farm, rode on to Dwars River farm, near Sutherland, to interview Jacobus Adriaan Victor, "the only person in the district who spoke English". At the inquest Victor said Arnot had been in "good spirits and quite jolly". But soon after that his mood seemed to change He sank into a deep depression as the group rode via Modderfontein, Desyver and Van Wyksberg farms to Prince Albert Road. By the 15th as Jacob stated at the inquest "Arnot was not in his usual mood. He was very quiet and withdrawn. He had been particularly disturbed the previous night." Just outside the tiny village of Merweville he took his rifle and a cartridge and walked towards a small hill. His companions thought he was going to shoot a bird as he had done several times before. Suddenly Jacob shouted: "He's going to shoot himself!" Before they could reach him, he pulled the trigger. The inquest found he had died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound "while in a state of temporary derangement." Arnot was buried where he fell. His wife arranged for the erection of a memorial stone and the people of Merweville undertook to "tend his grave forever." This is a promise which has not been forgotten.

Source: www.saforums.co.za/rlt/index.php?topic=7428.0;wap2

An awful lot of soldiers and ex-soldiers took their own lives, as we've seen repeatedly on the Forum.
Suicide is still the commonest cause of death in the UK among men under 50, but it is startling to see suicide among men was far more common in the years after the South African War - see academic.oup.com/ije/article/39/6/1464/736597 from which I took this graph.
Also, suicide among men fell sharply after the two World wars, but rose after the South African War.
I wonder whether untreated PTSD had something to do with it?

Hi Rob
I think you are right regarding the untreated post traumatic stress.
Many soldiers who came home from South Africa had little help to overcome their demons. Sadly, suicide and reliance on alcohol was in some cases the only way out for them. Having recently studied the Field Force casualty rolls there are over 600 entries pertaining to self inflicted woundings and accidentally killed with no explanation recorded, I would imagine a percentage of those were certainly attributed to stress and trauma of combat. There are mentions of soldiers who were recorded of dying from Melancholia, which could be described as possibly the Victorian equivalent of PTSD.


Dave....

Dave, I think you are right. Even those who coped with the War felt out of place when home again - as the last stanza from Kipling's wonderful 'Chant Pagan' tells us a return to SA may 'kill or cure' the ex-soldier:

I will arise an' get 'ence -
I will trek South and make sure
If it's only my fancy or not
That the sunshine of England is pale,
And the breezes of England are stale,
An' there's something' gone small with the lot.
For I know of a sun an' a wind,
An' some plains and a mountain be'ind,
An' some graves by a barb-wire fence,
An' a Dutchman I've fought 'oo might give
Me a job were I ever inclined
To look in an' offsaddle an' live
Where there's neither a road nor a tree -
But only my Maker an' me,
An I think it will kill me or cure,
So I think I will go there an' see.