TOPIC:

August 30th

In the train en route for Pretoria.

Cape Town is just lovely. All so strange and new. Blacks everywhere in all shades of the colour & all styles of dress, mostly bright colours. The Malay women are particularly smart. The town lies at the foot of Table Mountain which towers above it. The top nearly always enveloped in a white cloud (known as the devil’s tablecloth) which is constantly changing shape. Occasionally it lifts altogether & the top of the mountain is plainly seen against the sky. The lower part is covered with pine & silver leaf. The top is solid rock shaped so (drawing of the top). On either side of the mountain is a gigantic peak – Devil’s Peak and Lion’s Head – the latter named from its shape. The town runs along the foot of the mountains as far as you can see.

The day we landed was perfect and everything looked lovely. We were put into a drag and told to proceed to the Mountain Villa Hotel. The driver – an African – was lost I think for he drove round an hour or more before he reached the place. We didn’t care a scrap as we got it all for nix & a good view of the place given. The town is laid out anyhow. No order at all. The streets wind about in the most bewildering way. There’s only one straight – Adderley Street & that’s crooked up the top end.

The town is crowded with people – they are arriving daily. 1200 landed the day after we did & there are heaps of soldiers waiting to go home.

Our party numbers 5 – Miss Liebing, Miss Williams, Miss McInnes (S.A) Miss Eddie, Miss Woring. We chummed up on the boat and are great pals.

In company with some more “Medic” friends we tracked round Capetown seeing the sights. On Wednesday we went to Wynberg, 5 miles out of Capetown. Groote (great) Schuur (crevice), Cecil Rhodes’ residence is near there. It’s a wonderful place situated at the foot of Table Mt. The grounds are 3 miles square planted with pines, oaks and other English trees. Flowers that we cultivate grow wild. Trumpet lilies, tulips, marguerites, daisies. Its just like the botanic gardens and zoo in one for at intervals there are animals & caged lions, jackals etc. Peacocks & other birds wander about. The house is wonderful built like the Dutch houses and furnished in old Dutch style. We were shown over it. Dr Jameson & a party of friends are living there now but they were not at home. The walls are lined with teak timber. The ceiling also is teak – beautifully carved in the quaintest designs. In the library we saw the flag carried by Dr Jameson in his famous raid. It is riddled with bullets. Some wonderful vases & other curios from Mashonaland & ancient books. The furniture is all very old having been purchased from the early Dutch settlers. Great chests some four feet high with beautiful brass fittings, grandfather clocks, some seven ft high.

In the billiard room was some beautiful tapestry which has been in the Rhodes family for generations, a Bible (German) dated 1269, an old blunderbus used for elephant shooting, elephant tusks quite 3ft in length and the first shell that was fired into Kimberley. It did not explode & its standing on the writing table Rhodes liked to use. It is draped with the new Rhodesian flag. The drawing room was magnificent. The floor of polished teak. The walls were of carved teak to the height of about 6ft above that they were covered with leather stamped in quaint designs. The fire place was a great open affair with the hearth right out from the wall & a wonderfully carved brass fir screen. We were allowed to play on a musical instrument called a spinet – something like a piano. It is very old bearing the date 1704. The couches or rather sofas were the softest you can imagine. There were great vases, some as tall as myself with old Dutch scenes. A few good pictures & books. In the dining room was some lovely cut glass, such queer shapes. Everything was so beautiful it seemed like another world.

We also saw the flag set up at Khartoum by General Gordon. After spending 3 delightful hours we got on the train & returned to Cape Town by another way.

Wednesday morning we were told to assemble at the Royal Hotel & told where we were to be sent. Our party of five, I told you the names before, hung together praying hard that we would not be separated. The suspense was awful. We stood there straining our ears to catch the names. The Mafeking list was read first; 10 go there, amongst them Miss Wylie & Miss Benson. Then came Pretoria – several names were read – we were gasping by that time. On went the voice – Miss Liebing, Miss McInnes, Miss Williams, Miss Young – then it stopped. All the rest go to Bloemfontein. Poor Miss Eddie collapsed & the other four clung round Miss Noble (the lady in charge) imploring, beseeching & in fact refusing to be separated. At last she relented & said Miss Eddie could come with us. The relief was intense & we five straightway sat down & wept. We pretty soon got over that though & scrambled out in the street to communicate the good news to our Medic friends who were waiting without.

We left Cape Town at 8pm (heaps of Medic folk to see us off) per special train, first class saloon cars, delightfully comfortable. We expect to be a week on the train. I don’t care if it’s a month.

Thursday morning we breakfasted at Hex River, the beauty spot on this line. Again we saw beautiful flowers growing wild. At the next station, De Doorns, we came up with a train having on board 500 Boer prisoners returning from St Helena. They were sent out 3 years ago with Cronje. He was not with them however, coming on by a later train. We chummed up with them. Some were so nice. One gave me some pen holders & the model of a ship he had made himself while on the Island. They seem pleased that the teachers have come. “Teach them to be Australian Afrikanders, anything by not English”, they said. “We hate the English.”

We are constantly passing places of interest. All along the line at intervals of 1000 yards are Block Houses (small buildings having holes in the walls through which to shoot) where the men who were guarding the line were stationed; trenches, fortifications of barbed wire and in some places graves. We have passed troops & troops of soldiers trekking southward & several camps which are rapidly being broken up.

The country we are travelling through is hilly, very rugged. Some places the hills are just huge rocks, no trees, very few bushes, prickly pears, cactus & African box thorn. At intervals we see more fertile spots and some of which are the ruins of Boer farms destroyed during the war. Some are being rebuilt by the government.

We get our dinner & lunch at refreshment rooms along the line but bring our breakfast with us. We’re allowed 15/- a day travelling expenses. First day we lived like toffs, splashed up the whole. Had a bad night in consequence. Since then we live on 5/- a day & save the rest for a future occasion. By the way we’re to get 8 weeks at Christmas free pass on all the lines. Ain’t I lucky! We are enjoying ourselves, occasionally we pinch each other to make sure its not all a beautiful dream.

Our train is nearly a whole day late. We don’t care a scrap – longer holiday. Thursday we should have reached Frazerberg for dinner at 8 o’clock. It was one in the morning when we arrived. We got out & had dinner just the same. A crowd of English officers were still waiting & stared at us as if we were strange animals. Every body seems to know who we are. One station was draped in flags in our honour - the Australian flag showing strong. We reached De Aar Friday evening & there the Mafeking party left us. They are timed to arrive there on Sunday.

This morning Saturday 30th we were awakened by wails of misery from the next carriage. A telegram had been received by Miss Noble saying that 6 teachers were to be left at Norvals Pont. We crept back to our bunks & shut the door hoping that we would not be chosen. Luck again! Six were selected from the Bloemfontein people & the moment the decisions were arrived at we fell out of bed dressed & congratulated the girls who were to stay and ourselves more that we were to go on. Those who remained were met by the teachers already settled there. They like the life greatly. The hours are 8.30 to 1 o’clock with a half hour for recess. Fancy nothing to do all the afternoon. After about 3 hours stay we again started with the remnant of our party now numbering 23. Our carriages were then attached to the Boer train which had again overtaken us so we’re now travelling on the same train as the Boer prisoners. Just out of Norval Pont we crossed the famous bridge which was erected in such a short time after the original one had been destroyed by the Boers.

At Springfontein we saw a crowd of Basutolanders making their way to the Kimberley diamond fields. All these words which end in “ein” are sounded like “ane”. Norval Pont is the beginning of the Orange River Colony & the bridge I spoke of is over the river Orange.

I’ve got so fat. I’m nearly a stone heavier than when I left. Only 2 teachers are wanted for Johannesburg. The rest go to small schools out from Pretoria. Two women to go to a place called Barberton; some hundred miles from Pretoria.

Posting this here. More later.

Love to everybody,

Mag

Irene No. I
Burgher Camp

Friday Sept 5th
The family generally

I closed my last letter just as we were entering Bloemfontein 11.30 Sat. night. Had supper & crawled back to bed & were asleep in a very short time. Next morning greatly surprised to find ourselves still at B. Dressed hurriedly & set out to view the town. Bloemfontein is the Orange River Col. capital. Quite a small place. No bigger than Mt Gambier. Very dusty. We had not proceeded far when we met a gentleman who asked if we were the Australian teachers. He proved to be the Assistant Director of Education and was coming to the station for us. Soon after Miss Firks, the Head of the Kindergarten in Bloemfontein arrived & we were all taken up to the Normal College & there entertained at luncheon by the teachers & students. There are 22 Boer girls in the college being trained for teachers. I like them awfully. They have most charming manners & such a pretty accent.

The lunch was alright, fresh fruit, cream & other nice things. After the scrambled meals at refreshment rooms it seemed like the glimpse of a better world. They hurried us back to the train saying it left at 1 ‘o clock but they’re worse liars than in Aust for it was 3.30 before we got away having spent 16½ hours there. Got to Kroonstad at daylight Monday morning. It’s a fairly large town & was the scene of several engagements. At Rooiwal we saw several graves of men who fell in action. The graves seem well cared for. Passed heaps of African kraals, houses made of reeds. Saw women grinding meal with huge stones & swarms of children clad in nature’s garb alone. Some of the babies are lovely like polished bronze. At 3.30 we crossed the Vaal River. The country is quite different on this side. Much more fertile; actually see a few trees growing. There’s not a tree to be seen in the Orange River Col. Except a few gums which have been planted at the railway station. At Volwehoek four more of our party left us. It’s an awful place. The most dismal hole in the far North is paradise to it. They were going to Heilbron familiarly called “Hell” which is 30 miles from the railway & were to be taken there in mule wagons – 32 mules in each. I thanked providence I wasn’t in that lot.

Just at dusk Monday evening we reached Elandsfontein, a mining town – another delay – 2 hours later we set out again, the guard very wrath, swearing hard and vowing that he’d stop for nothing till we reached our destination. For hours the train simply flew. We clutched the sides of our bunks expecting each moment to be our last till we stopped with a thump that landed me on the floor. Learned that we had reached the famous Irene Camp. It was 2.30 am by this time. We moaned miserably so they detached our car & let us stop in it till morning.

At 8.30 the Headmaster & some of the teachers arrived and took us up to the camp. This Irene Camp was the largest of all the Burgher camps and is situated 9 miles from Pretoria. It is fast being disbanded. 3 Months ago there were 1100 children in the school – now they number 16. There are still 35 teachers so they’re not over worked. The Irene No. 2 camp is ½ mile from here. There are still 400 children there. We learned that we are to remain here till our schools are ready for us. Tuesday night was our first under canvas. We have large marquees quite 30 ft long & 4 of us live in each. There are hundreds of tents – church, hospital etc. & we, the teachers, have a fine large dining room built of unburnt bricks. It is nicely plastered, board floor & is well furnished. There’s a big kitchen next to it. One of the Dutch teachers keeps house. We have 5 Boer girls & heaps of African boys to do the work.

The wind & dust here are awful. The first night I was sure the tent couldn’t withstand it. Crawled out at midnight & put on my stockings. If it did blow up I was prepared for the worst then. Only two of the teachers work, the rest are ladies at large.

At 6.30 am were awakened by a sweet voice chirping “coffee missus” and in walks an African armed with a cup of black coffee. I loathe 6.30 and likewise black coffee. Tip the stuff outside & promptly go to sleep again. An hour later back comes the same African. This time with hot water. We breakfast at 8.30. School begins at 9. The first hour is devoted to religious instructions which is given by a Dutch teacher. At 11.30 cocoa & bread & butter is served, ½ hour recess from school. At 1.30 school closes for the day. Dinner at 2. Fancy nothing to do all the afternoon. Tea at 4 excepted – 6.30 is tea proper and supper at 8.30. The intervals between meals are spent as seems best to us. Being ladies at large we devote time to recovering from the fatigues of our five weeks journey. Fancy, we were 6 nights & 5 days travelling from Capetown.

Wednesday morning Mrs Ware, the wife of the Director of Education came out & took us to Pretoria. She let us loose for a few hours. Our set, Misses Young, Williams, McInnes & Eddie gave the rest the slip & went off on our own. Hailed a cab & demanded the price for an hours drive. “8/-“ said cabby. We clutched our slender purses & prepared for a weary walk. Providence again! For round the next corner we struck some rickshaws. Into them we tumbled like one man & off round the town. They’re queer 2 wheeled vehicles drawn by a bare legged Basuto who travels at a surprising rate. Pretoria’s about as big as Gawler. Beastly dirty but picturesque. The streets abound in dirt, stones, bones, rags and niggers. In the centre of the town is a space known as Church Square. In the centre is an old church in which Kruger stored his money, likewise ammunition during the war. Beside the church is a pedestal on which Kruger’s statue was to have been erected. The statue which was being made in Holland when the war broke out was never finished. Surrounding the church are the Poste Restante (as the G. post office is called), the Palace of Justice, Parliament House – all fine buildings. We went to Kruger’s house and were shown round by the British officers who now occupy it. It is neither vey large nor very grand. We sat in the ex-President’s chair. It is a magnificent affair like a throne & over it is a golden eagle. We saw the room where Mrs Kruger died, played on the organ, and even looked into the bathroom - a dirty little place not six ft square with a small tub in one corner. Finally we picked some violets from the garden, some of which I enclose.

We went to Mrs Ware’s to lunch. She lives in a suburb called Sunnyside & from her house you get a splendid view of the town. After lunch we again set out. Saw the house once occupied by Lord Robert Kitchener and where the Boer generals met to consider the terms of peace. Now the residence of Sir Arthur Lawley, the new Lieu. Governor. We visited the building from which peace was declared. Outside the Governor’s residence two Gordon Highlanders keep guard. Later I met Walter Follett, an old pal from Mt Barker. The day we landed here we met a South Aust. Corporal Bayley. He came out with the fifth contingent & I knew his sister at home. He is now in the S. African Constabulary & is stationed here. This afternoon he took Miss Williams & me over the Irene estate (station we’d call it at home). The house & garden are lovely. It belongs to a man named Vanderbyl & he has lately refused to sell it to the Government tho’ they offered £150 thousand for it.

Have just received intelligence that our party (I gave the names before) are appointed to Potchefstroom schools. Potchefstroom is the old capital of the Transvaal & is a lovely place we are told. We’re the envy of the camp. The English teachers have been scrapping for the appointment for weeks. It’s the Head quarters of the military at present. Miss Noble – the lady who met us at Capetown & brought us here – has a friend who is to be married next week to the Commandant in charge. Miss Noble says her friend will take us in hand & see that we have a good time. We leave for P. tomorrow evening. It’s about 90 miles further North and we pass through Johannesburg on the way.

I’m enjoying myself hugely so far & getting beastly fat. Gained a stone since leaving Adelaide.

We don’t love the English teachers very much. They consider themselves very superior but we won’t be sat on by anybody. The Boer girls are much nicer and have been so good to us since we came here. They hardly mention the war & never say one word against the British. I must stop now for we have to have all our luggage ready early in the morning. We’re getting quite used to being waited on by Africans.

Good bye: heaps of love to everybody. I’m just longing for letters from home. We ask everyday tho’ there’s no hope of any for ages yet I suppose. Hope Ma’s rheumatics are no worse.

Don’t forget the address. C/o Director of Education, Pretoria, Transvaal.

Margaret

c/o Education Department
Potchefstroom

9.9.02

Dear Ma

At last I have reached the long threatened destination and oh joy! the schools are not ready for us, neither are the tents so we’re quartered for the present at the best hotel in the town for which the Government have the privilege of paying £5 guineas a week and as there are four of us I reckon the said Government fell in when they brought Australian teachers out here.

We left Irene Camp at 8.30 Saturday evening and reached Braamfontein – a suburb of Johannesburg where the railway station is – and according to instructions we spent the remainder of the night in the train – sleeping carriages because it was too late to go to an hotel. Sunday morning we got up very early & set out to see Johannesburg. Got into rickshaws and away we went in great style – Miss Young & Miss Eddie in the front one. Miss Williams & myself following in another. Miss Young’s a very large lady and when we reached the first hill her man stopped & demanded double fare. We made some rash promise & off we went once more – through the native quarters first which is filthy dirty and the smell is strong enough to be seen. Johannesburg is quite a big place - heaps of gum trees & some very fine buildings. There are splendid shops but all had the notice: “closed on account of the dust”. It’s only fine days the doors can be opened. The mines are right in the town. We couldn’t see much as we had to leave again at 8.30. About a mile from the station Miss Young’s man stopped again; positively refusing to proceed further. By this time his tongue was hanging out and the perspiration was making muddy streaks down his black face. We three fairly howled with laughter while poor Miss Y got out & finished the trip on foot. Arrived at the station we were met by one of the inspectors, a handsome young Scotchman. He travelled to Potchefstroom with us. My name must have struck him for he treated us to sweets & fruit at every stopping place and showed us all the places of interest by the way. At P., which is 90 miles from Pretoria, we were met by still another inspector, the resident. He and the Scotchman fell over each other in their anxiety to get our luggage landed. A carriage & pair of ponies with two Africans in attendance were waiting to take us to an hotel. My word we are grand since we came to S. Africa, they treat us like distinguished visitors. We went to church Sunday evening & Monday set out to see the town. Potchefstroom is lovely, by far the prettiest town in the Transvaal. It reminds me of Mount Barker. There’s a river and the whole place looks like one great garden – a mass of pink peach blossom and pale green of the willows. The gardens are closed in with hedges of quince trees, honeysuckle & hawthorn with jasmine and roses twining amongst them. We are so glad to be here and all together. Yesterday Mrs Bangley, the inspector’s wife, came to see us, also the minister’s wife & several other people so we’re not feeling a bit strange. Tuesday we were invited out to lunch at one house, tea at another.

Wednesday morning the inspector came and told us that he had found work for us in the town school so we won’t have to go to the camp schools at present – perhaps not at all. I’m at the Central School – that’s a kind of advanced school where the children pay for tuition. All the others are free. I take the fourth class and as there are only 13 in it I’m not killed with work. I simply don’t know how to put in the time after the crowd I’ve been used to. The teachers seem to go to work and leave off just when they feel like it and the whole thing is over by 1 o’clock. My school is only about 2 minutes walk from the hotel.

Mr & Mrs Bethel have been with us all the time till last Saturday they left for Capetown on their way back to Melbourne.

We’ve been up at the camp – there’s quite a big one here and they say it won’t be broken up for nearly a year. There’s also a military camp and the place simply swarms with soldiers. We’re all having such a good time but we do want letters from home so badly. Address all letters c/o The Education Dept. Potchefstroom, Transvaal, South Africa. The children in my class are all Dutch but one and she’s the only one whose name I can say. I saw Walter Follett again before I left Irene. He told me that Mr Prisk had died since I left S.A.

Cronje – the Boer general who was a prisoner so long at St Helena is living here. The inspector is going to take us to see him some day. Nearly all the men here are lame or disfigured from wounds got in the war & almost everybody is in mourning. We went over the cemetery. It is so sad so many new graves – some without a name, only the number on the tombstone.

Good bye. Heaps of love to everybody. I’m longing to hear from home.

Maggie

Mark,

These letters are a true gem. A fantastic read, keep it up.

Regards

Adrian

Mark

Again I echo Adrian's comments. You are very fortunate to have this excellent record kept by a family member.

Regards
Brett

Thanks Adrian & Brett,

Here's a little bit about Margaret.

Margaret Morison McInnes was born in Naracoorte, South Australia on 8 October 1872. She was the sixth of eight children. Her father was a Scot form Argyll named Lachlan McInnes. He had immigrated to Australia 1858 with two brothers to seek his fortune. On the voyage to Australia Lachlan met Eliza Morison from Perthshire whom he would marry in 1864. Lachlan worked as a bullock wagon driver for several years until he had raised enough money to establish a farm. He was a successful farmer and was able to increase the size of his farming operations substantially over the years. Lachlan's farm is still farmed by his descendants.

Margaret mentions several of her siblings in her letters. Her siblings were:
Isabella, born 1865,
John born 1866,
Annie born 1867,
James born 1868,
Angus born 1870 (died in childhood),
Lachlan, called Lee born 1874,
Donald born 1876 (died in infancy).

Margaret appears to have been quite a bookworm as a child. While her siblings took to farming she went off to teachers training college in 1895 and began teaching in 1898. She resigned from her post at Giles Street School in June 1902 to teach in South Africa.