“Aunt Bobbie”
remembers early Johannesburg
By
Kathleen Bell (born Kathleen Emily Fuller)
Written
in 1984
It’s
a long time since I was a little girl and my memories are growing
somewhat dim but I do so clearly remember our home in Fuller St.,
Bertrams, in which I was born – it must have been built in 1893 or
1894 as my sister Nora, a couple of years older, was born in
Roodepoort where Dad (Harry James) had a gold claim.
Grandpa
Fuller (James) had a stone house under the kopjie at the top of the
street which bears his name and I have often wondered if it is what is
now The Hamlet, though I’ve never bothered to find out [Someone has
written in the margin: “No.” – JF]
R.F.
Bertram who owned the township had a double-storey house, I think
opposite which was later used by Sir Robert Baden-Powell and he and
his staff were very friendly – the Drakes also had a house close by
and I recollect everyone saying he was mad building a house on top of
the Kopjie, it seemed so far away. I only recollect climbing up once
when we went to see them. Other folk close by were the Donovans,
Bowkers, Bradleys, Hirtzels, the latter had a parrot who used to
imitate the paper boy on his bike and screech “Star”— and the
poor boy would be so fed up that when the genuine call for a paper
came he’d take no notice.
The
Loewensteins lived just behind us and I for one was very sorry when
they built a beautiful house on the top of Parktown Ridge.
Dad
used to cycle to work each day to Crown Mines – I believe he was the
compound manager and when any of us children were ill he’d drop in
at Dr. Frood’s place near the Park Station – tell him our symptoms
and what remedies mother was applying – he always used to say mother
knew best but he’d be along in his horse and trap when going in that
direction.
We
all loved him as he loved us, certainly no fear of Doctors when he was
about.
When
I was 2½ Dad found I was struggling to ride the older children’s
bikes, he managed to buy one for me and had big blocks of wood on the
pedals so that my feet could reach them.
I
know we used to cycle to town, Dad in front then the 2 boys and my
sister behind with me next and mother bringing up the rear – like a
hen looking after her chicks, and used to tell the story of how a
cabby called out one day and said “It’s all right Mum I won’t
drive over the baby.”
We
kept 2 cows and had great fun and many tumbles trying to ride the
calves.
I
seemed to have the idea that anything the brothers could do I could
– so whether climbing in 40 ft pines – riding calves, playing
hockey with sticks picked from the pile of firewood – and I remember
being very relieved when I was dared to jump from the stable roof on
to some trees – mother fortunately came out at the crucial moment
and forbade any of us to do that – and when mother said “No” we
listened. She had the loveliest blue eyes which turned to ice when
necessary to impress the heinousness of our many offences.
We’d
spent the war years (Anglo Boer War) first in East London and then in
KingWilliamstown where my uncle was Colonel Davis.
We
were at Miss …. School for 3 months after the war whilst Mother and
Dad came back to see if the house was still there which it was ’tho
much looted. The German friend who’d begged Mother to leave
Jo’burg, which we eventually did on the last train leaving
Jo’burg, had promised to look after things – as he was on the Boer
side.
Early
recollections are of going to Fillis’s Circus and seeing his
wonderful horses lying down with sharpshooters firing over their
bodies – another memory is of someone riding a penny-farthing
bicycle round the Wanderers track and Ken, my brother, on his little
bike pedalling like mad to beat him.
The
boys went to St. John’s College when it was near the Drill Hall and
Mincer’s Garage. When the College was opened on its present site the
2 brothers used to cycle up Harrow Road daily but that didn’t seem
to worry them for Ken often would let me sit on the front bar and lug
sister Nora on the saddle and give us a lift half way to our school
which was St. Augustine’s where Miss Spregg – a sister of Dr.
Gordon Spregg – was headmistresss.
The
trams in those days only went as far as Beit St., and it was great fun
having a ride to town behind 3 horses. Open trams where the seats
turned back for the reverse journey.
Once
I caught sight of Mrs. Dale Lace driving – whip in hand – am not
sure if I really saw her with her zebras or only heard and saw
pictures of them.
Can
still hear the discussion about a new hospital going to be built and
how it would be too far out of town to be really useful.
Another
memory is of the red soil which was very difficult to wash out of
clothes even in 1918 it seemed to take ages before white clothes were
white again.
Another
recollection is of the miners’ strike – my sister and I had gone
to lunch in town – SAP Club I think – and were told the miners
were coming down Eloff St so we went to Park Station which still had a
domed roof – someone came running to warn us the miners were on the
way down and showed us something that looked like a pickaxe handle
with nails sticking out all over it – some blood and hair on the
nails and when we heard the mob coming down the waitresses joined us
in a sprint to the bridge further down. The woman in charge had the
sense to take the money out of the till and put it in a bag which she
took with her.
Another
recollection is going by post cart from KingWilliamstown to Seymour
where Dad was in charge of the prisoner of war camp and being very
indignant when a picnic to Hogs Back was put off because the Boers
were in the vicinity. I presume that would have been Smuts.
Dad
was very well thought of as when all was over he was given a
presentation of a silver tray by the prisoners of war (Pat Harris –
g’daughter has this tray).
Another
picture in my mind is Dad arriving home – wagon and oxen after a
hunting trip to the ‘Bushveld’ which was the Magaliesberg.
Another
recollection is going across the veldt through the spruit to
Jeppestown to visit Uncle Alfred Fuller and family, Dad’s brother
who was in the Stock Exchange.
Often
used to go to Colonel Hutchinson’s house in Saratoga Avenue to play
with his 2 younger daughters Vickie and Babs. Vere was a good deal
older and had “come-out” and evidently had many boxes of
chocolates given her.
Mrs
Lowenstein too used to take us to her boudoir and lavish chocs on us
– society folk never seemed to be stout in spite of all the chocs
– probably because they used their feet and weren’t told that
chocs were bad and I guess they were purer in those days.
During
the Rebellion (1922) saw Dad (Harry James) coming home slowly with a
man at the horse’s head, got worried – but when home found he’d
collected a rebel made him walk at the horse’s head and Prince who
was in a hurry to be home kept trying to have a bite at him.
Mom
(Emily Louise) gave him lunch outside, wouldn’t have him inside and
then Dad changed horses – drove him up to police at pl spruit about
6 miles.
When
rebels came round pinching horses at dawn or earlier Mom would be out
in her nightie waving it about and saying “Who who” and they’d
flee.
Everyone
knew Prince as Dad was a scab inspector and all wanted to purchase
him, but Prince was cleverer than they. We kept him away from the
stables, tied up during the day in blue gum trees that were bushy and
he’d be as good as gold, but at sundown he’d break away and come
galloping down to the house neighing and kicking his heels and after
his exercise would go back and be tied up again.
He
must have known things were not normal for my grey mare had been
stolen and we found her at least 30 miles away with a broken hip. Took
a boy two days to walk her home but she never recovered and had to be
shot – we all cried including Dad, who got a neighbour to do the
deed, said he couldn’t.
Don’t
know what had happened to Prince’s mother, but he was brought up on
milk from a bucket and we never had to go to the paddocks when we
wanted to inspan him, would just hit the bucket with a stick and
he’d come galloping up.
–
Kathleen Emily Bell
(formerly
Page, born Fuller,
daughter of Harry James and Emily Louise Fuller)
Written
in 1984. Copied from the original by Aldyth Fuller, wife of Peter D.
Fuller, July
17, 1993. Probaby written originally when Aunt Bobbie was living at
San Sereno in 1999, aged 99, as her writing is shaky and not as good
as it always had been.
