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Freedom Day: A Visit to the Castle of Good Hope, Cape Town (Part 3 of 3)

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"Coloniser Reproduced History Missinformation ALERT"

A conversation between Dr Spires and Khoebaha PC Aran about "THE INDIAN MUTINY OF 1857 AND THE CAPE COLONY Donovan Williams University of Calgary II: The Emergence of Black Consciousnesisn Caffraria" that Seeks to give a Distorted Historical Account of the Subject.

Dr Spires: ...

Khoebaha PC Aran: ...

A major effect of the Indian Mutiny on the Cape Colony was an urgent demand for troops and horses.1But there is evidence that more than thesematerial aspectswas involved. It is clear that the Mutiny made a strong impression on the Blacks, and may be considered as a formative influence on Black cohesiveness in Caffraria, and, indeed, even on the emer- gence of Black consciousness itself. By Black cohesiveness is meant the emergence of some sort of common feeling among Blacks, of whatever tribe (people),that they were the Black people of Mrica, drawn together by the universal threat of White territorial encroachment on their land and their way of life.

By Black consciousnessis meant the arti- culation by 1865 of this pervasive sense of ethnicity into a written statement by the Rever- rend Tiyo Saga (1829-1871) which reflected pride of belonging to an ideal Mrica-wide Black people, who were strong physically, tenacious culturally, and proud of their heritage andcolour. It must be stressed that "Blackness" was an essential ingredient in this increasing sensitivity.

Some years ago I did some preliminary work on the emergence of Black nationalism in South Africa during the 19th Century. This identified the Eastern Frontier and the "triangle of resistance" (East  London, Port Elizabeth and Alice) as a crucial, formative area.The connection has beenacknowledged subsequently. But the subjectneedsamplification, especially for the 1850's and early 1860's where detailed analysis is lacking, and where all the indications point to a period of considerable gestation of Black consciousness and cohesiveness between the Crimean War (1853-1856) and Tiyo Saga's significant statement in 1865 on the future of the "Kafir race." In the 'fifties there was a free-floating belief in the resurrection of the leaders of the Blacks in Caffraria who were fighting the Whites; by the 'sixties there was an articulated, sensitive exposition of Black consciousness, in the tradition of James Africanus Horton, Edward Wilmot Blyden and Bishop James Johnson in 19th Century West Mrica.

I suggest that Tiyo Saga's statement was not only a reaction to immediate difficulties on the part of the Blacks, especially the proposed removal of the Ngqika east of the Kei, but also a response which had been nurtured by a decade of restless thoughts among the Blacks on how to resist the continuous and increasing material and spiritual pressures being exerted upon them by the Whites. The Indian Mutiny played an important role in formulating and sustaining such attitudes.

These feelings were already evident as early as 1828 when Kelly (Tyali), son of Ngqika, paramount chief of the amaXhosa, met with Colonel Somersetwho admonished him for descending on Tyhumie (Chumie) mission station and killing one of its inhabitants who was a member of his tribe. Tyali replied that "The chiefs in this land had a right to do to their people, and act according to their own laws, as they pleased,as their fathers had done, so would they do ..." As I have pointed out, this was "a specifically Xhosa tribal statement of cohesion." (Less than forty years later, as we shall see below, Tiyo Saga's journal reflected an African as opposed to a tribal consciousness.!

In 1850 the "tribal" strain was still evident in Sandile's call to Pato:

Arise, clans of the Kaffir (Xhosa' nation! The white man has wearied us; let us fight for our country: they are depriving us of our rights which we inherit from our forefathers: we are 'deprived of our chieftainship, and the white man is the chief to whom we are obliged to sub- mit: Sandile will die fighting for the rights of his forefathers.

Johannes Meintjies has commented on Sandile as follows: "It was in the period 1847to1850 that Sandile began to emerge as a mature man and a great patriot.  As a' freedomfighter' he had much in common with men elsewhere in the world who laboured and fought for the unification of their people, for a national awareness and for independence from an oppressor." But "nationalism" is an elusive concept, and Meintjies' use of the word for this early period of Caffrarian history seems premature and open to criticism on the part of the purists. Nevertheless, he has identified in one section of the Caffrarian Blacks a deepening feeling and a gathering momentum in sentiment which are the precursors of nationalism, or "incipient nationalism". As I have indicated elsewhere, incipient nationalism in Caffraria is characterized by a strain of unification among the various tribes, "some consciousness of belonging to a common race, with a common heritage that included long years of defensive measures against white encroachment, both material and spiritual".

Interpreters' Flawed Contracts With Dutch

13th November 2018.

Perceptive and suspicious by nature, Doman was the first of the Khoikhoi to recognise the danger the arrival of Van Riebeeck and his group, writes Dougie Oakes.

In the 17th century, Dutch colonialists prided themselves on their ability to learn the languages of inhabitants of their conquered territories.

But there was one language they couldn’t master: that of the Khoikhoi of the Cape of Good Hope. Years after their arrival in 1652, they had made little progress in learning the local language.

The Khoikhoi, on the other hand, had no such difficulty in mastering conversational Dutch.

Three of their number in particular – Autshumao, Krotoa and Doman – would later be regarded by the Dutch as “great interpreters”.

Each of the three built a different type of relationship with the Dutch: Autshumao, a mixture of smooth talk and confidence trickery, lulled his part-time employers into a false sense of security while he built up his herds of sheep and cattle, many of which he stole from them.

Krotoa’s fascination with all things Dutch earned her employment in the Van Riebeeck household. There, she learnt to speak Dutch while enjoying the best of two worlds, flitting seamlessly in and out of her society and theirs.

And then there was Doman. Perceptive, suspicious by nature and a talented linguist, he was the first of the Khoikhoi to recognise the danger the arrival of Van Riebeeck and his group posed to the independence of the indigenous people.

And he was the first to do something about it…

Doman carved his name into the history books of southern Africa by becoming the first indigenous leader to wage a war of resistance against colonial invaders.

Centuries later, historiographers described the first contact between the Dutch, who had come to the southern tip of Africa to set up a refreshment station between the Netherlands and the lucrative trading stations of the East, and the Khoikhoi, as “the fatal contact”.

But it didn’t start that way…

When Van Riebeeck arrived at the Cape with 82 men and eight women, and started building a fort the first meetings with the Khoikhoi were peaceful, if cagey.

In addition to the need to grow vegetables to supply to Dutch ships sailing to and from the East, fresh meat was also a priority, and the Khoikhoi had sufficient numbers of cattle and fat-tailed sheep to satisfy this requirement.

As traders though they were more than a match for the Dutch.

They quickly realised that what the new arrivals really wanted was to breed their own herds.

And so, for a long time, the cattle and sheep they were prepared to exchange in return for copper were the old, thin and diseased dregs of their livestock.

The Khoikhoi, in turn, fashioned bangles and other accessories from the copper they traded with other Khoikhoi groups in the interior for young and healthy livestock.

It galled the Dutch that their copper was contributing to the Khoikhoi growing large herds, while their own attempts at livestock farming were proving to be frustratingly unsuccessful.

The Peninsula Khoikhoi had in fact set up the first monopoly at the Cape. With Doman a key figure they sealed off routes to other groups of Khoikhoi.

If the Dutch wanted to trade it had to be with them.

It couldn’t be more lucrative: the Khoikhoi got their copper cheap, while they were able to exact a high price (in non-monetary terms) for their livestock…

While commercial relationships between the Khoikhoi and Dutch ebbed and flowed relatively peacefully, Doman made impressive strides as an interpreter.

So highly did the Dutch value him that in 1657 they sent him to Batavia (present-day Jakarta in Indonesia) for further training.

But what he saw and learnt there horrified him. He discovered that the Dutch had sacked Jakarta in 1619, rebuilt it they way they wanted it, renamed it Batavia, and expelled allthe indigenous people from the area.

It was obvious to him that the Dutch posed a great danger to the Khoikhoi of his homeland.

He had to get back to the Cape. With great cunning, he approached Commissioner Joan Cunaeus, telling him he wanted to become a Christian, and that he had become so devoted to the Dutch way of life that he doubted whether he could live with his fellow Khoikhoi again. It worked.

Once he had arrived back at the Cape, he emerged as the staunchest Khoikhoi critic of Van Riebeeck, especially after some employees had been given permission to become “free burgers” (in other words, to farm for their own account).

Thus, when Van Riebeeck seized several Khoikhoi leaders as hostages in 1658, Doman was the only one who protested.

Unfortunately for him, his earlier attempts to monopolise Khoikhoi trade with the Dutch had won him few friends.

Gogosoa, one of the local chiefs, refused to have anything to do with an attack on the Dutch. But Doman was able to persuade some of the younger leaders to join him in his war of liberation.

He planned his attacks carefully. He chose a cold, wet day in May 1659 to start a series of raids on the herds of the free burgers.

He was well aware that the matchlock muskets of the Dutch (unreliable at the best of times) could not be fired in the rain with damp powder.

Doman’s band of raiders had no intention of killing any of the Dutch. His war was meant to be one of persuasion, burning their crops, stealing their cattle, and hoping this would persuade them to leave the Cape and return to Holland.

The Dutch, on the other hand, were quite prepared to kill. They were ordered to shoot to kill – on sight.

The war ended in stalemate. The Khoikhoi were unwilling to attack the fort and Dutch forays against the Khoikhoi were unsuccessful due to the wildness of the terrain and the lack of guides.

When Doman died in in 1663, the company diarist wrote: “For (his) death none of us will have cause to grieve, as he has been, in many respects, a mischievous and malicious man towards the company.”

Legend Of Isandlwana Lives On

18th November 2018.

Zulu King Cetshwayo had been pushed into a war that he never wanted with England. Yet, the first battle of that conflict had the unlikeliest of outcomes, writes Dougie Oakes.

Cape Town – The mood of the congregation was sombre as Bishop John William Colenso stepped up to the pulpit of the Anglican Church in Bishopstowe in the colony of Natal – and started speaking…

Those who expected a sermon full of fire and brimstone were wrong. There were no calls for retribution against the Zulu king, Cetshwayo. There was no finger-pointing (at the Zulu people). And there were no predictions of doom and gloom.

There were deep expressions of sorrow, of course – but what Colenso said was peppered with nuggets of good sense: “We ourselves have lost very many precious lives, and widows and orphans, parents, brothers, sisters, friends are mourning bitterly their sad bereavements,” he said. “But are there no griefs – no relatives that mourn their dead – in Zululand? And shall we kill 10 000 more to avenge the losses of that dreadful day?”

It was March 1879 – and a mixture of anguish and anger was sweeping through the white communities of Natal.

Just a few weeks earlier, Cetshwayo had been pushed into a war that he never wanted with England. Yet, the first battle of that conflict, on January 22, 1879, on a hillside near a towering rock known to local people as Isandlwana, had the unlikeliest of outcomes…

Isandlwana was aptly described as a fight in which “a proletariat army from the world’s foremost capitalist nation was defeated by a part-time force of peasant farmers in a short, bloody and eventually inconclusive battle that rocked the British Empire to its core”.

“The Zulus attacked the red-coated British because they feared for their land and their independence. The British soldiers, drawn from the very poorest level of the working classes, fought back because they had been lured, like Private Moss from Wales, to take the Queen’s shilling’.”

It was a contest between spear and the most modern weaponry of the day, but thanks to a mixture of British arrogance, stupidity and bad planning, it was those who fought with spears who were victorious.

More than 1 500 redcoats, and an even greater number of Zulu fighters, died in the battle.

Cetshwayo was no one’s fool. It had taken a bruising battle – which had later escalated into a civil war – against his brother, Mbuyazi, for him to become the main contender to succeed his father, Mpande, as monarch of the Zulu kingdom.

When he became king in 1872, following the death of Mpande, he was keen to build a good relationship with the British administration in Natal. But he refused to be told how to run his kingdom. He needed to tread a fine line, and in this he succeeded admirably.

But then diamonds were discovered – and matters changed inexorably.

British colonial secretary Lord Carnarvon decided the best way to administer a southern Africa with far greater economic possibilities, but with a growing need for cheap labour, was via “confederation”.

By this he meant a region in which Briton, Boer and every African chiefdom would operate with some independence, under the control of England.

Although it was obvious that Cetshwayo would never agree to such an arrangement, Lord Carnarvon decided that there were many ways to skin a cat.

He left it to his most enthusiastic supporter, his Natal wheeler-dealer, Theophilus Shepstone, to decide how – and when – to bring this about.

Shepstone opted for the tried-and-tested: pick a fight with Cetshwayo and defeat him, using superior weaponry.

The British High Commissioner, Sir Henry Bartle Frere, set the ball rolling by pretending a number of minor border incidents were major threats to the security of Natal. The tipping point came when the sons of a Zulu chief seized two of their father’s adulterous wives in Natal, dragged them into Zululand, and killed them.

Cetshwayo was given an ultimatum: hand over the sons, pay 500 cattle in compensation, and disband his army and his age-group system of military organisation – within 20 days.

There was no way he could comply. All he could do was insist that “the king has, however, declared, and still declares that he will not commence war, but will wait till he is actually attacked before he enters on a defensive campaign”.

In January 1879, British forces entered Zululand – and on January 22 came the shock of Isandlwana.

As Cetshwayo feared, Zulu losses at Isandlwana and, on the same day, at nearby Rorke’s Drift were horrific. And as the weeks passed, casualties mounted at an alarming rate, with serious losses at Kambula and Gingindlovu especially.

Then, on July 4, the redcoats attacked the royal headquarters at Ulundi, razing it and forcing Cetshwayo to flee.

On August 28, he was captured in the Ngome Forest and sent to Cape Town, where he was held at The Castle, while the Zulu kingdom was”dismembered” into 13 parts, each of which was put under the control of pliant chiefs.

A striking figure, Cetshwayo handled himself with great dignity, refusing to be regarded as a curiosity and insisting that he be given European clothes to wear while in Cape Town. Many people who saw him commented that he was not the overgrown ogre painted by colonial officials.

Although he couldn’t read and write, he displayed a remarkable grasp of local, national and international politics. In this he was assisted by Bishop Colenso and his social activist daughter, Harriette.

Cetshwayo fought with dogged persistence to win back his freedom – and the kingdom of Zululand. In this regard, his key weapon was a letter-writing campaign that drew in prominent officials and even the monarch of England, Queen Victoria.

In March 1881, in a letter written from The Castle to Sir Hercules Robinson, the governor of the Cape Colony, he wrote: “I have done you no wrong, therefore you must have some other object in view to invading my land.

“How is it,” he asked, alluding to the fact that Shepstone had backed his ascension to the Zulu throne, “that they crown me in the morning and dethrone me in the afternoon.”

Cetshwayo’s persistence earned him a trip to England to state his case.

There, he impressed as many parliamentarians and ordinary people as he did in Cape Town.

He was freed in July 1883, but his return to Natal sparked a war with his main rival, Zibhebhu. Forced to flee his territory, he sought refuge with the British Resident Commissioner in Eshowe, where he died in 1884.

Anger After Hlubi King Insulted At Castle Statue Ceremony

10th December 2018.

Cape Town – South Africans needed to embrace their “collective history and heritage … the good, the bad and the ugly” as a step towards consolidating an inclusive sense of South Africanhood.

So said Minister of Defence and Military Veterans Nosiviwe Mapisa-Nqakula at the Castle in Cape Town on Friday when she unveiled the statues of former kings Cetshwayo, Langalibalele and Sekhukhune and 17th century resistance leader, Doman.

The three kings had once languished in the castle’s gloomy cells, and Doman had known first-hand the penalty of contesting the power that resided within it.

The statues, Mapisa-Nqakula said, were the “tangible recognition of these, and thousands of other unsung heroes and heroines in colonials wars of resistance”.

The commemorative project, which forms part of the Castle’s 350 anniversary celebration this year, was, she said, “the beginning of an ongoing commitment to honour all those who gallantly fought against colonial conquest and in turn inspired future generations of freedom fighters”.

Mapisa-Nqakula delivered the formal address at the event on behalf of President Jacob Zuma, who was scheduled to unveil the statues, but was detained in Pretoria because of a programme change in the visit of Zambian President Edgar Lungu.

Delegations from the amaZulu, amaHlubi and BaPedi royal houses and from the Khoisan leadership in the Western Cape joined in officiating at the unveiling ceremony.

Mapisa-Nqakula noted the Castle “offers us a unique opportunity to revisit, reinterpret and re-write our complex, brutal colonial and apartheid history in a manner that is fully inclusive, restorative, respectful and educational”.

This would be advanced through the launch of a Centre for Memory, Healing and Learning at the Castle. The centre, sponsored by the Department of Military Veterans, was intended to break “the curse of oppression, persecution and ignorance”.

Statues Of Kings, Resistance Leader Unveiled

11th December 2018.

Cape Town – South Africans needed to embrace their “collective history and heritage … the good, the bad and the ugly” as a step towards consolidating an inclusive sense of South Africanhood.

So said Minister of Defence and Military Veterans Nosiviwe Mapisa-Nqakula at the Castle in Cape Town on Friday when she unveiled the statues of former kings Cetshwayo, Langalibalele and Sekhukhune and 17th century resistance leader, Doman.

The three kings had once languished in the castle’s gloomy cells, and Doman had known first-hand the penalty of contesting the power that resided within it.

The statues, Mapisa-Nqakula said, were the “tangible recognition of these, and thousands of other unsung heroes and heroines in colonials wars of resistance”.

The commemorative project, which forms part of the Castle’s 350 anniversary celebration this year, was, she said, “the beginning of an ongoing commitment to honour all those who gallantly fought against colonial conquest and in turn inspired future generations of freedom fighters”.

Mapisa-Nqakula delivered the formal address at the event on behalf of President Jacob Zuma, who was scheduled to unveil the statues, but was detained in Pretoria because of a programme change in the visit of Zambian President Edgar Lungu.

Delegations from the amaZulu, amaHlubi and BaPedi royal houses and from the Khoisan leadership in the Western Cape joined in officiating at the unveiling ceremony.

Mapisa-Nqakula noted the Castle “offers us a unique opportunity to revisit, reinterpret and re-write our complex, brutal colonial and apartheid history in a manner that is fully inclusive, restorative, respectful and educational”.

This would be advanced through the launch of a Centre for Memory, Healing and Learning at the Castle. The centre, sponsored by the Department of Military Veterans, was intended to break “the curse of oppression, persecution and ignorance”.

Castle Of Good Hope: Turning History Into Our Story

12th April 2018.

Constructed in the mid-17th century out of rock hewn from Signal Hill and slate gathered from Robben Island, the Castle of Good Hope is the oldest surviving colonial building in South Africa and one of the best-preserved examples of Dutch East India architecture. Originally perched on the coastline of Table Bay after land reclamation, the erstwhile fort is now a sprawling landmark on the corner of Darling and Castle Streets on the way to Cape Town’s bustling Foreshore.

We discovered the Cape Doctor certainly lives up to its name as we cross the moat and enter the Castle’s precincts to meet Doreen Hendricks, the Castle’s powerhouse Tourism & Marketing Manager. The interview becomes a fascinating journey about the possibilities of transformation and how the colonial past can be transformed into a reimagining of our future.

“The Castle was exclusive for many years, whether to a particular racial group or individuals on a particular career path. It was specifically designed and built to keep people out, but as a tourism heritage site we want to invite people in. We can’t change the structure of the building, but we can change the perceptions of people.

“Everything in the Cape started here at the Castle. Our slogan is, ‘The beginning of everything’. We also position ourselves as the centre for shared heritage in South Africa. Here you have the culmination of so many things and so many people. We are all connected in some way, and the Castle played a major role in that.

“We aim to bring people together and not only recognise differences, but also commonalities and move forward from there. That’s what we started doing in 2016 during our 350-year commemoration and what we are continuing to do going forward.

“How do we do that? A lot of people talk about deconolising history, but in the words of our good friend Professor Denis Goldberg, we do deconolisation of history. We give people a platform to have a voice, to tell their stories and to be recognised. We want them to remember, heal and learn through this process; whether it be via an exhibition, a debate, a community forum or a traditional ceremony.

“The Castle of Good Hope is a self-sufficient public entity. We generate income via our commercial tourism and event activities, which in turn help us fund community heritage initiatives. We rely heavily on partnerships to do development work and appeal to corporate South Africa to support us in order for us to grow our heritage, culture and education department. The fact that our Department of Defence is looking after the maintenance of the Castle, is a huge bonus.

Recently we launch a 350-legacy project, focusing on the passing of the history onto the youth of today. Even though the 350-commemoration was concluded in 2016, the story has actually just begun.We have created a timeline of the inclusive history of the Castle – from when it was first built up until 2016. The timeline, as seen above, includes untold stories of the past as well as the recognition of unsung heroes and warriors. These timelines have been rolled out in 72 schools nationwide with the aim of getting them rolled out into 400 more throughout the country. We want our kids to feel included and become excited about their heritage. hot hot

“We also know that the youth nowadays learn through technology, so we have developed an interactive website, virtual tour and video which would speak to them in a language that they understand. We are in the process of developing an app that they would be able to download onto their phones and tablets, which makes history available to them immediately and in a fun way.

“We are positioning ourselves as an exciting, forward-thinking heritage site. People – whether they are locals or tourists – want an experience. They don’t want to stand at a glass window looking in; they’re looking for interaction – touching, feeling, talking, engaging. We are therefore working hard to ensure our product is interactive.

“Over and above all the exhibitions, we also host a variety of events…. from flower shows to lifestyle markets, from music festivals to conferences and weddings.

“We want to open our doors to not only tourists, but to locals, to Capetonians. People whose lives have links here – and who may not even know it.”

Discover Castle's Ghostly Past

5th November 2018.

Cape Town – The Castle of Good Hope turns 350 this year – and to mark the occasion, the Independent Media group will take readers on an intriguing journey of discovery, with South Africa’s oldest existing building as its focal point.

Over the years, the Castle has been many things to different people, a place of pleasure and pain. To the first white settlers it was a refreshment station for ships from their home country. To the indigenous people it eventually became a symbol of dispossession – of land, livestock and, ultimately, dignity.

But back to the Castle…

Perhaps appropriately, it had its origins in something that was commonplace along the southernmost tip of Africa: a violent storm… followed by a shipwreck.

On March 25, 1647, a Dutch Indiaman, De Nieuwe Haerlem, on its way to Holland from the East Indies, ran aground in the vicinity of present-day Milnerton – and although there were no casualties, its sinking was destined to change the course of history.

A junior merchant named Leendert Janszen was instructed to stay behind with about 60 crew to look after the cargo while fellow crew members boarded other ships in the fleet and continued their journey to Holland.

While waiting to be picked up, Janszen and other members of the party grew vegetables, caught fish and bartered fresh meat from indigenous inhabitants.

It proved to be a trial run for something more permanent.

On his return to his homeland, Janszen and a fellow officer, Nicolaas Proot, were asked by their employers, the Dutch East India Company, to compile a report on the suitability of the Cape to serve as a refreshment station.

Their report, known as the “Remonstrantie”, highly recommended the idea. They were supported by Jan van Riebeeck, a member of the fleet that picked them up.

In 1651, Van Riebeeck, accompanied by 79 men and eight women, set sail for the Cape – to set up a refreshment station.

The first commander of the Cape built the first “permanent” structure – a fort – on the site of the present-day Grand Parade.

It was built out of clay and timber, and it was not very secure, making the word “fort” seem like a misnomer. Van Riebeeck was well aware of the need to have something more secure, and he called on his principals to give the go-ahead for the construction of something more secure.

The Dutch East India Company eventually did say “Yes”, but four years after Van Riebeeck’s tour of duty had ended.

The Castle had other faces too.

Over the course of time it was the administrative centre of the Cape, a garrison, a prison (its dungeons served as temporary holding cells for troublesome chiefs of indigenous groups from the Cape and much further afield).

Some of its purposes, though, were even more sinister…

For example, it – or rather a section of it – served as a torture chamber (Die Donkergat) and a place where people were executed. And it also housed a gallows.

In this regard, one of the more fascinating stories associated with the Castle involved the ghost of an 18th century governor, Pieter van Noodt, who had been cursed on the gallows by one of seven men he had condemned to death for desertion.

The curse did not take long to kick in. Van Noodt died on the same day he was cursed. Legend has it he died with a look of surprise on his face.

One of the earliest “hangmen” was married to a slave “owned” by one of the Cape’s best-known 18th century socialites, Lady Ann Barnard.

Barnard was most impressed at the way the hangman performed his duties, but she felt nothing but contempt for his wife.

As part of the Castle’s 350th anniversary celebrations, the Department of Defence has commissioned statues of four African leaders who fought to maintain the independence of their people during various eras of dispossession.

The earliest of these featured leaders will be a Goringhaiqua Khoikhoi chief named Doman, whose relationship with the Dutch shifted from watchful collaboration (he was regarded by the Dutch as a highly skilled interpreter) to open hostility when he realised that the stay of the colonialists was likely to be permanent.

On a cold, wet day in May 1659, Doman launched the first “war of independence” by indigenous people in southern Africa against colonial invaders.

Zulu King Cetshwayo also spent time as a prisoner at the Castle. This was after he had been captured in the Ngome Forest (near Nkandla) after his forces had suffered horrific losses against the British at Khambula and Gingindlovu.

Despite angry protests from whites in the colony of Natal, he was granted permission to travel to England to plead his case to British politicians.

Dubbed “The Ladies Man” because of his striking good looks, even more so in tailored European clothing, he inspired what was described as “some very bad verse”:

“White young dandies get away-o,

Clear the way for Cetewayo….”

Another “guest” of the Castle was Sekhukhune, the king of the Pedi, who like so many other African leaders throughout southern Africa was forced into war by land-hungry white invaders.

In his case, it was strife with the Boers in the 1870s that proved to be the beginning of his downfall.

Although he was able to hold his own against the Boers, the British proved to be a different proposition.

Theophilus Shepstone, the administrator of the Transvaal (after the first Anglo-Boer war), was scathingly critical of the Boers for not being able to defeat the Pedi.

This, he said, had seriously undermined the authority of the white man in Africa.

The notoriously cynical Shepstone pushed Sekhukune into war by instituting a series of taxes and fines that the Pedi were unable to comply with – until the only option open to them was war.

Also to be featured will be Langalibalele, chief of the Hlubi, who was also forced into a war he didn’t want by the white authorities.

The Hlubi people were driven into conflict because they proved to be much more successful at farming from their base in the foothills of Natal than their white counterparts.

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Spirit Of Krotoa Returned To The Castle Of Good Hope

22nd August 2018.

Cape Town- Traditional and religious leaders gathered in Cape Town on Friday to celebrate the life of Krotoa, a Khoi woman who was an instrumental interpreter and negotiator alongside Jan van Riebeeck.

Gathered around a tree at the Groote Kerk, they burned an incense plant and beckoned for her soul to rise from the unmarked grave where her bones had been held.

Her remains had been removed from the grounds of the Castle of Good Hope, nearly a century after she was buried there.

On Friday, some of her descendants returned with her spirit to the castle.

This coincided with the 350th commemoration of the castle and a Women’s Day military parade.

Defence Minister Nosiviwe Mapisa-Nqakula, custodian of the castle, first laid a wreath at the church and then at the castle.

She unveiled a wooden bench in Krotoa’s honour and addressed the crowd on the Khoi woman’s struggle.

Krotoa, still a child, worked as a servant in Van Riebeeck’s household.

Fluent in Dutch, English and Portuguese, she was said to be instrumental in working out terms for ending the first Dutch-Khoi war in the Cape.

She was baptised, given the name Eva and married off to Danish surgeon Pieter van Meerhof.

He was killed in a slave hunt in Madagascar and when Krotoa returned to the Dutch Colony to reclaim her status, she was declined.

She was later banished to Robben Island and her children sent to Mauritius.

“Her life depicts pretty much the example of millions of women in our country, but Krotoa didn’t wallow in self-doubt and rose to distinguish herself as a pioneer,” said Mapisa-Nqakula.

“It is my wish that all of us, and young women in particular, make it a point to learn from this incredible resilient woman whose true account of her life was never told.”

Some protesters dressed in traditional garb stood outside the castle.

They questioned why not all Krotoa’s descendents were allowed inside, why she was being returned to the castle, and why the defence and military forces were there.

Mapisa-Nqakula said there was nothing wrong with the demonstration as it was people asserting their identity and history.

“If anything, it further buttresses that which we are talking about, that we must tell the true South African story.”

What was important for her was that Krotoa’s spirit was repatriated to a place, now a sacred ground, where she suffered pain.

A process was underway to have the castle listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

President Jacob Zuma would commemorate the castle’s anniversary on September 30.

Watch the solemn ceremony here:

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Historian Sir Hilary Beckles pays tribute to the millions of men, women and children who suffered as a result of the Transatlantic Slave Trade, one of most devastating chapters in human history.

The Castle of Good Hope is known locally as "The Cape Castle" was built in the 17th century and is a well loved historical monument in Cape Town, South Africa. The Castle was originally built on the coastline, after city re-claimed some last from the ocean is now lies a short distance inland. The Castle was uilt as a refreshment stop for ships Traveling between Europe and Asia. Some highlights include Kat Balcony with the "Kings of the Castle", Torture Chamber & Dark Hole and Military Museum.

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Maphatsoe Outlines Plans To Attract More Visitors

8th December 2018.

Cape Town – Deputy Defence and Military Veterans Minister Kebby Maphatsoe says he would like to see the Castle of Good Hope become a place of pilgramage for citizens from all political persuasions and from all parts of the country.

“We want people to say: ‘Let’s go to Cape Town not only for the beaches, but also for the Castle, so that we can see and learn about where our king or chief was jailed.”

Maphatsoe has been in the defence and military veterans portfolio since May 26, 2014. When discussing Cape Town’s most enduring landmark, he sounds like a new broom.

Central to the commemoration of the Castle’s 350th anniversary will be the unveiling, by President Jacob Zuma tomorrow, of statues of four indigenous fighters against Dutch and British colonialism: a Goringhaiqua chief named Doman, the Zulu king, Cetshwayo, the Pedi king Sekhukhune, and Langalibalele, the king of the amaHlubi people.

“We decided on honouring these four great South African leaders because we believe that not enough effort had been made to tell about how they struggled against great odds to protect the independence of their people,” Maphatsoe said.

Each of the leaders who are being commemorated demonstrated incredibly innovative leadership in their struggles against Dutch, Boer and British colonists.

Doman launched his war against the Dutch in rainy weather, having worked out that the matchlock guns of the enemy would not fire in wet weather.

Cetshwayo’s Zulu army, armed mainly with stabbing spears, shocked imperial Britain, by inflicting a stunning defeat over its Redcoats at Isandlwana.

Sekhukhune defeated the Boers and the British in a succession of battles, while Langalibalele also repulsed attacks by colonial forces in the then Natal.

“We want the history of these leaders to be told,” says Maphatsoe.

“We know that the Castle was used as a fort, as a prison for indigenous leaders, and as a place where black people were tortured and killed – from the time of the early colonists, right up to the brutal era of the apartheid regime,” he says.

“It is important for people to know what happened between its walls. We want it to become a centre of learning, healing and memory,” Maphatsoe says.

“I would like to see communities which have always seen it as a place from where their subjugation was plotted and implemented to come to it to seek healing and closure, if that is what they want. At present, only the Khoikhoi have taken up this invitation.”

Maphatsoe understands that the process he wants to champion may take time. But there have been hopeful signs, he says.

“Groups from the Northern Cape, the Eastern Cape, Limpopo and Mpumalanga have visited.

“Moreover, when the king of the Venda people learnt that we were going to honour the kings of the past, he contacted us to say he wanted to become involved so that he could pay his respects to the Pedi king, Sekhukhune.

“These were eye-openers for the new groups of visitors to the Castle. There is so much of South African history that they did not know. The 350th anniversary commemoration of the Castle will widen their knowledge even further,” he said.

“What they are beginning to realise is that the Castle is the genesis of our freedom. It takes us on a long journey – from oppression to freedom.”

Castle To Become A Beacon Of Inclusivity

9th December 2018.

Cape Town – With talk of decolonisation echoing through the halls of universities, talk of land reform resounding around the country and nationalisation and redistribution of wealth on the lips of almost every South African, what better place to start than the land’s oldest colonial building?

This weekend, the Castle of Good Hope turns 350, and it is fast-tracking its reimagining by unveiling four statues of men who, up until now, have been little more than footnotes in the country’s history books.

They include king of the amaHlubi, Langalibalele, whom the suburb of Langa is named after and who opposed colonial rule, and Zulu king Cetshwayo, who famously led the resounding defeat of the British army at the Battle of Isandlwana.

Another is Bapedi king Sekhukhune, who through force and political manoeuvring built his kingdom Sekhukhuneland and violently opposed British rule, handing the Boers a number of crushing defeats.

Khoikhoi interpreter Doman, who led the first resistance against the Dutch by setting up monopolies of trade, so as to grow his own people’s wealth at the expense of Jan van Riebeeck and his party.

Walking between the hallowed, majestic bastions of the castle, Leerdam, Oranje, Nassau, Katzenellenbogen and Buuren, through the govenor’s chambers, the castle barracks, old munitions storage facility and the gloomy torture chamber, on guided tours, one is reminded of the cruelty of the past.

The systems of oppression and slavery, the torturous punishment of those who tried to escape slavery, or had the temerity to worship their own gods, refusing to submit to the missionaries, who forced Christianity on the indigenous enslaved tribes.

The Castle of Good Hope, far from shying away from its dreadful past, seeks to remind us, lest we forget.

However, the castle is changing. From its original purpose as the main port of defence, to the housing of the governors of the Cape, to a tourist attraction, the castle has also become a vibrant events venue, recently hosting the inaugural Cape Town Flower Show.

Daily, there are visitors from the US, the UK, Australia, Russia, Belgium and elsewhere around the world, who come to marvel at a structure that ties together iconic parts of Cape Town – timber from the vast forests of Hout Bay in the 1660s, stone from Table Mountain, held together by powerful limestone cement made on Robben Island.

Castle Of Good Hope Commemoration A Chance To Rewrite Colonial History - Zuma

9th December 2018.

Cape Town – The 350th commemoration of the founding of the “bastion of colonialism”, the Castle of Good Hope, is an opportunity to rewrite colonial history, President Jacob Zuma said on Friday.

“(It is) a standing reminder and sanctuary for the defence of a brutal system that robbed the majority of South Africans of their dignity, social identity, land and other benefits of their country’s economic potential,” Defence Minister Nosiviwe Mapisa-Nqakula read from a speech Zuma was meant to have delivered.

He was unable to because of a state visit by Zambia’s president.

The castle’s history could be rewritten in a manner that was inclusive and promoted healing and nation building. Its construction marked the beginning of colonial injustice, and racial oppression.

When the governor of the Cape colony, Zacharia Wagenaar, laid the foundation stone in August 1666, the intention was to build a solid defence against two enemies: The rival European powers and the indigenous population who fought to retain their land and freedom.

READ: Spirit of Krotoa returned to the Castle of Good Hope

“The castle became the political, judicial, legislative, penal and social nerve centre of the fledgling colonial administration,” Mapisa-Nqakula said.

“It is against this background that the commemoration of the 350 year’s existence of the castle offers us a unique opportunity to revisit, reinterpret and re-write our complex, brutal colonial and apartheid history in a manner that is fully inclusive, restorative, respectful and educational.”

On the last day of the 350th commemoration, three kings and “gallant heroes and heroines who took on the might of colonial armies” were honoured with statues.

These included King Cetshwayo kaSenzangakhona of the amaZulu, King Langalibalele kaMthimkulu of the amaHlubi, King Sekhukhune of the BaPedi, and Gorochougua clan freedom fighter and Khoe (khoisan) leader Doman.

This was the beginning of a commitment to honour all those who fought against colonial conquest and inspired future generations of freedom fighters.

‘Breaking the curse’

A Centre for Memory, Healing and Learning was opened at the castle on Friday. The centre was flanked by a torture chamber and jail cells where kings and chiefs were incarcerated.

The intention of the centre, sponsored by the military veterans department, was to break the curse of “oppression, persecution and ignorance”, Mapisa-Nqakula said.

Since the castle served as a haven for colonial rulers and was a strong proponent of slavery, it was perhaps no accident that the largest contradiction and conflict around identity and race was to be found in the Western Cape, and in particular Cape Town.

“We must use this opportunity to change the mind-set of the castle being glorified as a bastion of colonialism.”

The castle had been declared a national heritage site and an application would soon be made to upgrade it to a world heritage site.

The celebrations on Friday included marching bands, praise singers, and a national salute.

Cape Town – South Africans needed to embrace their “collective history and heritage … the good, the bad and the ugly” as a step towards consolidating an inclusive sense of South Africanhood.

So said Minister of Defence and Military Veterans Nosiviwe Mapisa-Nqakula at the Castle in Cape Town on Friday when she unveiled the statues of former kings Cetshwayo, Langalibalele and Sekhukhune and 17th century resistance leader, Doman.

The three kings had once languished in the castle’s gloomy cells, and Doman had known first-hand the penalty of contesting the power that resided within it.

The statues, Mapisa-Nqakula said, were the “tangible recognition of these, and thousands of other unsung heroes and heroines in colonials wars of resistance”.

The commemorative project, which forms part of the Castle’s 350 anniversary celebration this year, was, she said, “the beginning of an ongoing commitment to honour all those who gallantly fought against colonial conquest and in turn inspired future generations of freedom fighters”.

Mapisa-Nqakula delivered the formal address at the event on behalf of President Jacob Zuma, who was scheduled to unveil the statues, but was detained in Pretoria because of a programme change in the visit of Zambian President Edgar Lungu.

Delegations from the amaZulu, amaHlubi and BaPedi royal houses and from the Khoisan leadership in the Western Cape joined in officiating at the unveiling ceremony.

Mapisa-Nqakula noted the Castle “offers us a unique opportunity to revisit, reinterpret and re-write our complex, brutal colonial and apartheid history in a manner that is fully inclusive, restorative, respectful and educational”.

This would be advanced through the launch of a Centre for Memory, Healing and Learning at the Castle. The centre, sponsored by the Department of Military Veterans, was intended to break “the curse of oppression, persecution and ignorance”.

A Festive Story Of Good Hope…

13th November 2018.

We can’t believe that the festive season is already upon us. As we all prepare to spend some quality time with our loved ones, may we use this opportunity to wish you a joyous, healthy and happy holiday season. The more we think about it, the more we realize that there are very few architectural and cultural heritage sites around that has the variety of unique cultural experiences the Castle of Good Hope offers.

Many cities like Beijing, Paris, London, Rio, Tokyo, Melbourne, Singapore, Brussels offer what we have but theirs’ are often dispersed or pricey. From the best-preserved 17th century Dutch fort in the world, to larger-than-life statues of indigenous royal warriors to the firing of small but ear-splitting signal cannon to a recreated 17th century military drill; it feels like our Castle is a mall of heritage experiences under one roof!

Highlights

• A unique torture chamber/interrogation room, recently upgraded to create an even more authentic experience;
• The statues of the Khoi freedom-fighter Nommoä (Doman) next to those of warrior kings Langalibalele, Cetshwayo and Sekhukhune;
• A museum collection of 17th century art, craft and furniture (William Fehr);
• A separate ceramic art museum where the original lions that use to protect the main entrance, are on display;
• The Lady Anne Ballroom and the Dolphin Pool where she supposedly bathed in the nude!
• A memorial dedicated to the life of Khoi princess Krotoa (Eva);
• A restitution garden with indigenous plants (and where I spent some time reading and reflecting); and
• A third museum, depicting the Military History of South Africa. This is also where the original, sea-ward facing entrance of the Castle used to be.

The People's Castle

So, with your heritage-conservation contribution of R50 (±3 Euros) we definitely make sure that you get lots of bang for your buck (pardon the pun) – something like seven for the price of one! Our advice is not to rush through this oldest colonial building in the country. If you want real value for money, take a couple of hours to soak up over 350 years of colonial history – good, bad and ugly!

We are deeply honoured to share our space with tourists, ad-hoc visitors, school children, researchers, musicians, movie-makers, party-revelers, Khoi-chiefs, traditional leaders, actors and the like. Yes, do not be surprised if you bump into a certain Ms Julia Roberts or Mr Denzel Washington, some of the many Hollywood stars who recently visited our shores.

We have developed a slogan that goes like this “Bringing the People to the Castle and taking the Castle to the People!” What underpins this slogan, is a sincere commitment to change the traditional image of the Castle (colonial oppression, pain, exclusion) into one that is inclusive, embracing, healing, educational and leading to nation-building and reconciliation. This is an on-going project that needs all of your support and commitment.

Castle Of Events

It amazes us how the Castle has become a sought-after venue for life-style events. In the coming weeks, tourists and event goers will be treated with a host of exciting events. These include local youth music icon Nasty C, a Gaming Expo (Playtopia), the annual Cape Cultural Picnic and the Sizzled Summer Experience – to mention but a few. Our Castle is now really cooking up a storm!

You will notice from our gardening activities (or rather lack of it) that the Cape is still in the midst of a drought. Though the drought has been down-scaled to level 5, we are still not allowed to water our lawns, trees and other plants. As ardent gardeners, it pains us to see what is usually lush-green lawn is now appearing as a yellow-brown carpet. And the absence of summer flowers at the feet of this majestic, colonial building, is another pity. We kindly appeal to you to be understanding and supportive of our endeavours to preserve and protect this precious, life-giving resource – water.

Welcome to the Castle of Good Hope and enjoy your time with us…

A Warrior Of Grace, Dignity

8th November 2018.

On December 6, four statues of kings and warriors will be unveiled to mark 350 years of the Castle of Good Hope. Here Michael Morris writes about Zulu king Cetshwayo.

Cape Town – Victory has often come at a grave cost to kings and nations, and this much is doubtless true of Cetshwayo kaMpande, the last independent king of the Zulu people, in the weeks after their devastating defeat of the British at Isandlwana in early 1879.

Whether it was wise or foolish of him at that point to resist the urging of at least some of his warrior generals to make the most of the routing of Lord Chelmsford’s force by crossing the border in pursuit and taking the war to the farms and settlements of colonial Natal is hard to judge, and perhaps idle to contemplate.

His restraint was, in its way, a distinctly kingly gesture. But it was also a calculation, for Cetshwayo hoped he might negotiate a peace agreement that would sustain his kingdom, and gain orderly or predictable relations with the British. Violating the border, he seemed to reason, would only make things worse.

Even so, Cetshwayo had no illusions the red coats he had beaten at Isandlwana represented only a fraction of the coercive potential of Queen Victoria’s imperial juggernaut. And it was soon obvious the mightiest army in the world meant to avenge the bloody nose it had been given on the steamy veld of central Zululand in January 1879.

Chastened, and forewarned, the British forces adjusted their tactical procedures for a second invasion that year – dropping the typical linear (Thin Red Line) battle formation for a tighter close-order pattern – and went in for the kill in June. The last major encounter was the Battle of Ulundi on July 4, where a still-smarting Chelmsford ordered the royal kraal to be torched. It is said Cetshwayo’s capital burned for days.

The Zulu kingdom had been feeling the heat for a while – with a Boer settler insurgency to the north, and British ambitions on the coast itching for scope beyond the colony of Natal.

The pall that hung over Ulundi in July 1879 was a grim monument to the flawed – and, not long after, abandoned – big vision (modelled on Britain’s Canadian experience) of a confederacy of southern African states to which, however, an independent Zulu kingdom was considered an intolerable contradiction.

The confederacy enthusiasm, keenly supported by British high commissioner Sir Henry Bartle Frere, prompted a cynical baiting of the Zulu king, and eventually an ultimatum, followed by the invasion that temporarily came short at Isandlwana, but was pressed home months later.

It was an increasingly difficult time in a fast-changing southern Africa.

What had, until the 1850s, been perhaps little more than an expensive and truculent agrarian possession, had begun to assume growing significance as a crown asset after the discovery of diamonds.

And the fall of Cetshwayo – he evaded capture at Ulundi, going into hiding, but was caught eventually in August – was part of a pattern of subjugation repeated across the region.

The incremental conquest was a force of history – driven chiefly by European colonial or imperial competition, insensible to basic notions of justice or fairness – whose consequences Cetshwayo seemed to have recognised in advance with acute penetration.

On January 17, 1879, less than a week before Isandlwana, the king is remembered by one of those present as saying in a speech to his warriors: “I have not gone over the seas to look for the white man, yet they have come into my country and I would not be surprised if they took away our wives and cattle and crops and land.

“I have nothing against the white man and I cannot tell why they came to me. What shall I do?”

Well, he chose his path, but, nine months later, found himself incarcerated at the Castle in Cape Town for his trouble. In 1881, his status was changed to that of being under civil custody and he was relocated to the farm Oude Molen.

It was from here that he wrote to governor Sir Hercules Robinson detailing his own and his father’s good relations with the “English”, adding: “I never for a moment thought that the English would invade my country.”

Cetshwayo, who came to the throne at his father, Mpande’s death in 1872 at the age of about 46, eventually got his chance to put his case to Queen Victoria when he travelled to London in August 1882 (the Queen presented him with a large, ornate three-handled beer tankard), where, by all accounts, he was, as one writer has described him, “a much sought-after social figure, always conducting himself with natural grace and dignity”.

If his personal stature was effortlessly maintained, his official one was deliberately diminished; when he returned to Zululand in January 1883, stripped of effective power, his was a subdued kingdom riven with factionalism and rivalry, of which he himself became a victim. Weakened and ill, he died in Eshowe a few months later, on February 8, 1884.

Cetshwayo has been immortalised in photographs, paintings, books and films. In the 1964 film, Zulu, he was played by none other than his great-grandson, Mangosuthu Buthelezi, future leader of the IFP, and, briefly – while serving in Nelson Mandela’s cabinet in the late 1990s – acting president of a democratic South Africa. A character in the 1889 opera, Leo, the Royal Cadet, is named after him, and he makes vivid appearances in several of adventure novelist H Rider Haggard’s African tales.

One of the most tellingly sympathetic portraits to have survived is the Cape Argus account of September 11, 1879 of the Zulu king’s arrival by ship at “Simon’s Bay”.

“Ever since the news came down from Natal that it was intended to bring Cetywayo to the Cape,” the report began, “the local interest in that monarch has been greatly intensified, and general expectation has been evinced concerning his arrival here.”

We learn that local shops, catching the excitement, sported in their windows photographs (taken from a painting) which, the Argus report says, “no less than common report, picture him a rough-featured and scowling being, old in years and ungainly in aspect”, yet the reality was that “the actual man wears an exceedingly benevolent look”.

The correspondent adds testily: “Those who have desired to see the captive out of mere idle curiosity might be somewhat surprised to find the savage king possessed of a natural gentility and dignity of demeanour which would put such a class of visitors at a terrible distance.”

But there was also something unmistakably forlorn about the man.

“While on board the steamer on his way down he was asked one morning why he did not appear so cheerful as usual, and did not smile. Smile?’ asked the king. Did you ever see a dead man smile? I am dead when my country is taken away’.”

* A statue of Cetshwayo – along with statues of early Cape interpreter and resistance leader Doman, and kings Sekhukhune and Langalibalele – will be unveiled at the Castle next month as part of the 350th anniversary of the construction of the stone fort.

Cape's Bastion Of History

4th November 2018.

A new project celebrates Cape Town Castle, 350 years old this year, and honours key figures in our past, writes Michael Morris.

We can almost hear Zacharias Wagenaer’s voice in the words passed down to us in the record, and a hint of a surely improbable ambition of being remembered by history as a “somebody” in his time.

“Our conquests,” the commander told a small gathering in January 1666 at the laying of the foundation stone of what would become the Cape Town Castle, “are extending further and further and all the black and yellow people are being suppressed. We are building a stone wall out of the earth that thundering cannon cannot destroy.” Holy Christendom would thus be made known and find a place “in wild, heathen lands”.

“We praise the almighty reign of God,” he went on, “and say in unison: Augustus’ empire, victorious Alexander and Caesar’s great kingdom – none of these had the honour of laying a stone at the end of the earth.”

There was nobody around to dispute the audacious sweep of Wagenaer’s oratory. Yet, as he laid that stone, so far from the salons and guilds and the mercantile sophistication of Holland, Wagenaer could perhaps be forgiven his grandiloquence.

If he could not have been expected to foresee the immense scale of historical, cultural and political consequences of establishing with such rock-solid certainty a widening European presence at the southern tip of his “wild” Africa, the commander’s “stone at the end of the earth” would prove lastingly, too often grimly, significant for growing numbers of people across the sub-continental region, for generations.

Wagenaer’s castle, the country’s oldest building, remains a potent symbol today; at the time, it was the token of a seismic episode. Three and a half centuries ago, southern Africa was poised between East and West. The region had, after all, been known for centuries, if not intimately, to Arab, Indian and Chinese cartographers, traders and travellers.

But the determination of the Dutch to settle in so soon after their first harried efforts to maintain merely a victualling station halfway along the lucrative trade route to the East placed the region squarely within the Western Atlantic world.

It is where the country remains, by and large, despite a greater involvement in Africa than at any time in recent centuries.

Wagenaer’s sturdy fort, though, isarguably more symbolically significant for particular, local South African reasons, for it stands at the centre of a long narrative of conquest and, later, repression.

In a sense, the first unintending settlers were accidental conquerors.

Though the first four-cornered wood-and-earth fort, pegged out within days of Jan van Riebeeck’s arrival in April, 1652, may conceivably have been a ramshackle affair, it was the precursor of Wagenaer’s project, and was the start of something big, bigger than anyone at the Cape then could have foreseen.

Impelled by a range of complex economic and socio-political factors, settler expansion grew, and so, naturally, did resistance and contestation. With a big global player behind them, and ample slaves, the small settler community proved for the most part irresistible. It was a complex social organism which, in time, even produced a wholly new indigenous African language.

When the British took over at the beginning of the 19th century, the region embarked on a 100 years of bloody subjugation – along with continuing integration with the West, with all its attendant benefits and shortcomings. The century culminated in the war with the Boers, whose defeat produced the union of colonial territories and republics that defines the shape, and much else, of South Africa today.

Ever since that day of 1666, the Castle has remained, squat and immovable below Table Mountain, as a reminder of South Africa’s record of endeavours, follies, triumphs and tragedies.

Its meaning as a site of remembering and memorialising the complexity of our society will be evoked next month when statues of four significant historical figures are unveiled at the Castle as a reminder of their role in the national story, and the importance of the building itself in a history of tragic errors and, after so many years, an overwhelming redemptive will.

Caribbean poet and essayist Derek Walcott has warned against the temptation to “take revenge in nostalgia”, and it is doubtless important to remember that these long-dead eminences, the early go-between Doman, and the kings Cetshwayo, Sekhukhune and Langalibalele, were every bit as human, and products of their time, as Commander Wagenaer, with his thoughts about the end of the earth.

They all made our history. The challenge lies, perhaps, in acknowledging our belonging in it, and acknowledging who “they” were.

For the Argus, there’s a touching association in the case of Cetshwayo, who was a friend of the paper’s founding owner, Saul Solomon. When, in September 1880, Solomon’s five-year-old daughter Maggie and her governess Martha Burton, drowned in a reservoir on the slopes of Lion’s Head, Cetshwayo, then a prisoner at the Imhoff Battery, penned a note to him.

“I am writing to you my great friend,” he said, “to express my deep sorrow at the very great misfortune that has come down on your house. I feel so very sorry to hear that one of your branches has withered and left you. I really do not know how to express my great sorrow as touching such a great calamity.” The Zulu king, of course, was no stranger to the great sorrow of inexpressible loss; he had lost his kingdom.

Though, after his unwanted sojourn as a prisoner at the Cape, Cetshwayo was given the opportunity to sail to London to petition Queen Victoria, and was able to return to his kingdom, it was a subjugated fiefdom, and his people, along with all the other subject peoples of the region, had more than a century to wait before being acknowledged as common citizens.

Next month’s event at the Castle, in which Independent Media is a partner, is a step on that path.

Obviously space will not allow us to delve into the rich, difficult history of this world-famous building. Save to say that the story of his Castle is a story of our young country.  It is a story of joy, pain, tears, laughter, disappointment, fear, hope – and all the other human emotions that characterize us as a nation…

Built between 1666 and 1679, the Castle is known as the oldest surviving building in South Africa and has been the centre of civilian, political and military life at the Cape from approximately 1679.

In its current state, the Castle arguably represents one of the best preserved 17th century DEIC architecture on the entire globe.   The 2015 – 2016 renovation of the Castle – the first in 20 years – will further enhance its appeal and position it well to become South Africa’s next UNESCO World Heritage Site.

This historical building now houses, among others, the William Fehr Collection managed by Iziko Museums of South Africa, an permanent ceramic exhibition (FIRED) and the Castle Military Museum.

The Castle was, however, not the first fort to be built at the Cape. A quadrangular (four-pointed) fort was built after the arrival of Jan van Riebeeck in 1652 where the Grand Parade and the main Post Office are situated today. This fort was completed towards the end of 1653 and its inner structures in 1656. However, constant problems were experienced: The walls of the fort, which were constructed mainly of clay, collapsed and required constant repairs.  A model of this original fort can be seen in the Castle Military Museum.

Jan van Riebeeck left the Cape in 1662, and was succeeded by Zacharias Wagenaer. In 1664 there were renewed rumours of war between Britain and the Netherlands. Fearing a British attack on the Cape, the Lords Seventeen instructed Wagenaer to build a five-pointed stone Castle similar to other such fortifications in Europe and the East. The Castle was planned around a central point – a water-well under the “Boog” – with five bulwarks known as bastions.

The site of the new Castle was chosen in 1665 by the Commissioner and later first Governor of the Cape, Isbrand Goske. The engineer, Pieter Dombaer, was responsible for the construction of the Castle which was built by slaves, Khoikhoi, burghers, and company workers. (Anna Ras, die Kasteel en Ander Vestingswerke, p56, 57)

The foundations were dug in 1665 and the cornerstones of the first bastion, later known as the Leerdam Bastion, were laid on the 2nd January 1666, after which building started in all earnest. Three hundred sailors, commandeered from passing ships, soldiers, local Khoikhoi, women and slaves were used as workforce, breaking stone and collecting shells which were burned in lime ovens.  One often wonder what was the real human cost of building this European fortress on African soil.

Clinker bricks, also known as “Ijsel-stene”, which were brought as ballasts in Dutch ships, were offloaded at the Cape and were used as decorative features in certain parts of the Castle.

In 1667 peace returned to Europe, which caused building on the Castle to be delayed. The first bastion, Leerdam, was completed on the 5 November 1670. Buuren, Catzenellenbogen, Nassau and Oranje followed.

In 1672 the outbreak of war in Europe caused the building of the Castle to be resumed with new vigour. In 1679 the Castle was completed. It was called a Castle because, as in the case of other Castles in Europe, in addition to being a defensive structure, it comprised a small community or town on its own.

Inside the Castle walls there were among others a church, bakery, workshops, living quarters, offices, cells and numerous other facilities.

The slate used as paving in the Castle came from quarries on Robben Island. Wood was brought from Hout Bay. The cement used to build the Castle was obtained by burning shells in lime kilns at Robben Island until they formed lime. This lime was mixed with shells and sand to form extremely strong cement. (Historical Buildings in South Africa, p. 8)  This means that the Castle is intrinsically linked to two of South Africa’s icons and UNESCO World Heritage sites – Table Mountain and Robben Island.

The yellow paint on the walls was chosen because it reduces the glare from the sunlight, and reflects less heat. You may recall that former president Nelson Mandela damaged his eyes whilst working in the lime quarries of Robben Island during his long imprisonment there.  (Historical society of Cape Town, Newsletter 3, December 1986)

In 1982, a comprehensive restoration process was started to restore the Castle to its former glory. The process was completed early in 1993. Another exciting restoration and renovation is planned to proceed towards the end of 2014.

The Castle is entered through the Main Gateway from the Grand Parade and City Hall side. This entrance was built between 1682 and 1684 to replace the original entrance which was situated between the Buuren and Catzenellenbogen bastions. There are also two smaller entrances to the Castle.

This gateway offers a window on the past. The pediment above the entrance bears the coat-of-arms of the United Netherlands, portraying the crowned lion rampant with the seven arrows of unity in its paw. On the architrave below are carved the arms of the cities of Hoorn, Delft, Amsterdam, Middelburg, Rotterdam and Enkhuizen. These were the Dutch cities in which the United East India Company had chambers. The company’s monogram, VOC, flanks the carvings on either side.

The two pilasters, the entablature and pediment above are built of a grey-blue slate from Robben Island.  Built of small yellow bricks, called “Ijsselstein”, the entrance is a unique example of 17th century Dutch classicism in South Africa.

Looking at the Main Gateway from the courtyard, a baroque gable is seen above the entrance.  The gable is typically Cape-Dutch and dates back to the early eighteenth century.  A painting of the gable by Lady Anne Barnard (painted between 1797 and 1803) was traced to Britain and the colours scheme of the gable was chosen accordingly. The correctness of this bright colour scheme has been confirmed by the Netherlandse Monumenten Zorg. (Dutch Monument Care) (Ref: Mr Green, Restoration Architect, Dept. of Public Works).  The relief work is a replica consisting of four basic military elements, which are unusual features in gable decoration namely a flag, a regimental banner, drum, mortar and a pyramid of cannonballs. It is crowned by the helmet of a knight and various weapons of a knight are also shown.  On either side of the entrance are the statues of Mercury, the god of commerce and Neptune, the sea god (with the trident).

The look-out tower on the roof is known as the Captain’s Tower. The latter used to be the tallest building in Cape Town for many years to come.  The inner courtyard of the Castle is divided by a wall. The wall is approximately 116 metres in length, 12 metres high, three and a half metres wide at the bottom, and two metres wide at the top.  Buildings were erected on either side of the wall.

The part of the Castle formerly known as “De Kat,” was the office of the governor and arguably the first seat of political power in our country.  The course of history was determined in what are today very humble chambers.  In 1674 the Council of Policy and the Council of Justice and the church used the same chamber. The Council of Justice was responsible for hearing all cases at the Cape.

From these chambers, the Council of Policy controlled all facets of early colonial life; where they could live; what they could plant and produce; the prices of their produce and many other aspects of their lives in order to ensure order in the settlement. The new governor’s house became known as “Het Nieuwe Kat” and the transect wall, “Het Oude Kat”.  This is where the Castle’s chapel is situated and where one of the great indigenous figures of the time, Cratoa or Eva was buried.

The right-hand entrance in the wall was the entrance to the governor’s residence. His living quarters were on the top floor.  The governor’s sleeping quarters were above the arch linking the front courtyard to “Het Wapenplaatz”.  On the left of the arch was the residence of the Secunde, who was the second-in-command of the settlement.  The bottom floor was mainly used for wine cellars and storage space.

This building currently houses the William Fehr Collection of artworks depicting aspects of cultural life at the Cape from the VOC era until the end of the 19th century. The private collection of Dr William Fehr was exhibited at the Castle at the tri-centenary celebrations of the arrival of Jan van Riebeeck in 1952. This valuable collection has special relevance to the Castle and was bought, on public demand, to be on permanent exhibition in the Castle. (300 Years of the Castle at Cape Town, p. 109)

On the top floor, one finds the Lady Anne Barnard Banquet Hall. The hall originally consisted of four rooms, which were converted into a reception hall in 1930’s.

The well-known porch or stoep (frequently and wrongly referred to as De Kat Balcony) is an outstanding feature of the transect wall. The first porch was built in 1695 and known as “De Puij”.  It was rebuilt between 1786 and 1790. From this stoep proclamations were read, announcements made and laws proclaimed to soldiers and civilians at the Cape.  All legal sentences were announced from here and here official visitors to the Castle were welcomed (The Standard Encyclopaedia of Southern Africa, p. 124).  This remains a great reference point to explain how the announcements affected the lives of indigenes and slaves and in fact the shaped modern South Africa.

In 1936, the stoep which had become derelict was threatened by demolition. This was prevented, however, by an architect by the name of James Morris, who offered to restore it at his own expense.

Sundials were used to tell the time in the early years at the Cape.  The sundial on the eastern side (above the ceremonial office) was used to tell the time in the morning.  In the afternoon, the sundial next to the balcony was used. The time of the sundials was the official time for the entire Cape settlement. The settlement was kept informed of the time by the ringing of the bell in the bell-tower every hour on the hour. At night, or when the sun did not shine, time was kept by means of an hour glass. The “rondeganger” (guard on duty) turned the hour glass and rang the bell.

The Castle represents, in its restored form, Dutch, English and French building styles. In certain parts the flat roofs favoured by the Dutch were rebuilt during restoration. In other sections the pitched roofs and stone work of the British era can be seen. The original slate roof tiles were replaced with replicas.

The building on top of the roof between the bastions Leerdam and Oranje, is known as the Captain’s Tower. For 150 years, the Captain’s Tower was the highest building in Cape Town.

Sections of the moat around the Castle were restored. The original moat was 25 metres wide and filled with water from the streams of Table Mountain. The building of the moat started on 26 November 1677. Unfortunately, the moat quickly became foul-smelling because the drainage system was inadequate and the residents used it as a rubbish dump. In 1896 the moat on the seaside of the caslte was filled up to make way for the railway line. Later the whole moat was filled up.

From the Buuren bastion, the advantage of the pentagonal shape of the Castle is evident. The range and angle of attack of the cannons on the bastions overlapped, thus providing an impenetrable wall of cannon fire in the event of an enemy attack.

The Castle formed part of a formidable defensive system at the Cape that discouraged attacks. It has never been attacked.

The five bastions were built in the order Leerdam, Oranje, Nassau, Katzenellenbogen and Buuren. The bastions were named after the main titles of Willem, the Prince of Orange. The height of the walls of the bastions on the sea side was 10 metres, and those on the land side were even higher, apparently so that in the event of an attack from the sea, the cannons on the landward bastions could be turned around to fire across the seaward bastions.

The sections of the walls built in stone by the Dutch are evident. The brick sections date back to the British era. During British rule, the walls were made higher. During Dutch rule, the slate roofs were flat. The pitched roofs were erected by the British in the 1830’s (Standard Encyclopedia of Southern Africa, Vol. 3 p. 123).

From the Catzenellenbogen bastion, it is possible to imagine how close the sea came to the side of the Castle, before the land as we know it today was reclaimed between the years 1930 and 1945 with the help of Dutch engineers. The original entrance to the Castle, the “Waterpoort”, used to be in the wall between the Buuren and Catzenellenbogen bastions. This entrance was unsuitable from the outset because at high or spring tide the water level made access to the Castle impossible.

On Catzenellenbogen you also see the mountings of 4 six-pounder rapid-fire Hotchkiss cannons.  These cannons were removed from the Castle at the beginning of the Second World War. While these guns were still on the bastion they were used to fire gun salutes on special occasions (The Argus 27.10.88).

The Garrison jail was built by Louis Thibault (1786). (300 Years of the Castle at Cape Town, p. 101).

The double cell to the right of the door was used for locking up drunken soldiers. The large cell with two doors was used for a maximum of 20 prisoners. The holes through which the prisoners received their food are clearly visible.

On the left hand side there are two cells designed for a maximum of ten prisoners.

The double cell to the left of the entrance was the ablution cell or bathroom. Here you can see a primitive stone bath which was used by the prisoners.

On the doors are inscriptions made by the prisoners. It is said that the prisoners used nails which they pulled from their shoes to make the inscriptions; this is probably only partly true.  They also had access to other instruments such as cutlery.  All these inscriptions were made during the British era. The inscriptions on the outside of the doors were probably made during daytime when the doors of the cells were open and the large entrance locked. The cells were used for the last time during the Second World War to detain prisoners from passing ships on their way to the East.

In these cells we find the first, physical evidence that British military regiments were stationed at the Castle. The inscription that remained intact makes mention of 61 Regiment and dates back to the years 1840-1845.

It is said that the names above the doors of two of the cells are names of well-known Cape taverns at the time.

When you move out of the cells you will see, on your left hand side, the jail warden’s office. The fireplace and safe box for keys can still be seen.

The engraved ship on Robben Island slate may have been placed above the original Castle entrance or Waterpoort.

It is believed that this dungeon or so-called “dark-hole” was used as ammunition store and gunpowder magazine. The room was, however, too damp and was later used as a coal store.

Research has revealed that the two rooms in the corner of the Old Recruitment Building were the original interrogation chamber and dungeon of the Castle. There was a good reason for the interrogation chamber being next to the dungeon. According to Dutch law, a criminal had to confess to his crime before his sentence could be executed. The sound of torture coming from the adjacent room certainly facilitated this process.  Prisoners were not supposed to be detained here for longer than 24 hours.

Horseshoes were sometimes put on doors for “luck”. It is interesting to note that the horseshoe on this door is hanging upside down indicating that in this room luck had run out.

The second courtyard of the Castle is known as “Het Wapenplaatz”. The name is evidently derived from the weapon inspections and drill exercises which regularly took place here. The well which is found here, formed part of the water supply system inside the Castle.

The soldiers’ quarters were situated on the top floor between Catzenellenbogen and Nassau. The middle floor was used as storage space. The hooks and large doors behind the hooks are still in evidence. Supplies were hoisted by rope, and swung through the doors. The workshops of tradesmen, as well as stables and storerooms were situated on the ground level.

From this courtyard the other two entrances to the Castle, which were mentioned on your arrival, are found. The larger entrance is known as Sally Port (an opening in a fortification through which to make “a sally”, in other words a sudden charge from a fortification up its besiegers (The Concise Oxford Dictionary).

The lawn on Het Wapenplaatz has been planted according to a Dutch garden design.

The paint used on the walls during restoration, is whitewash mixed with a coloring agent.  The condition of the paint is not due to bad workmanship, but to the lack of moisture-resistant methods used during the construction of the Castle.  Walls such as these must allow moisture through, which is necessary to bind the clay bricks. Whitewash ensures that enough moisture is allowed through and retained without the wall appearing wet.

The woodwork is painted in different colours. Tradition has it that the windows painted in a reddish-brown colour were the windows of rooms used to store arms. Another possible reason was that this was the only available paint at that time.

“Het Wapenplaatz” faces the back of the Governor’s quarters. The large doors to the left of the arch were three coach houses for the use of the governor. The last smaller door was the Governor’s fuel-wood store.

The date on the stone above the arch is probably the date on which this part of the Castle was completed (show stone to visitors).

“Het Bakhuys” is a modern replica of a building which was built in 1706 during the era of Governor Willem Adriaan van der Stel. The original bakery was converted into a u-shaped building around a pool. The building was demolished by the British in the 19th century to make place for a parade ground. During the restoration of the Castle, excavations exposed the foundations of the original building and revealed the existence of the original Dolphin Pool. The balustrades and decorated walls of the pool were thrown into the pool during demolition, and covered up with soil. It was thus possible to determine exactly what the original pool looked like.

The original pool was named after the impressive fountain in the form of a dolphin in the middle of the pool. It was possible to make a replica of the fountain by examining sketches and descriptions made by Lady Anne Barnard during the late 1700’s. The replica was created by the artist Jan Corewijn. The original fountain was never traced. The dolphin resembles a fish that is found in the Mediterranean. A similar fountain at “Het Loo”, the palace of Willem III, in the Netherlands inspired Willem Adriaan van der Stel to build this fountain.

From May 1797, Lady Anne Barnard, wife of the British Colonial Secretary, acted as first lady to the Governor of the Cape, Lord McCartney whose wife did not accompany him to the Cape. Lady Anne Barnard and her husband lived in the Governor’s residence because he found it far too large for his purposes. She made an everlasting impression on social life at the Cape. From sketches and documents which she left behind, much is learnt about life at the Cape during the period in which she resided here. (Lady Anne Barnard at the Cape, p. 1, 133)

The wooden blocks used as paving under the arch, were installed with the aim of dampening the sound made by the horses’ hooves and coaches when they moved underneath the Governor’s sleeping quarters.

They also ensured that people walking through the arch did not have to walk in mud and water.

The wooden cross found in the arch, was made of wood from the forest at Delville (France), where many South African soldiers lost their lives in the Battle of Delville Wood. As part of the 9th (Scottish) Division, 1 SA Brigade took part in the Somme offensive and in particular the Battles of Trônes Wood, Berfnay Wood, Longueval and Delville Wood, at the beginning of July 1916. The SA Brigade was almost entirely eliminated in these battles, lasting from 5-20 July 1916. After the bloody battle, the brigade had 29 officers and 751 troops remaining out of a total of approximately 4000 that started the battle. (SADF Review, 1991)

The well was originally in the centre of the large courtyard inside the Castle, before the dividing wall was built.   According to research, it was the centre spot from where the Castle was measured out. Today we find the well in this small room (show the room).

From the archway, the width of the original dividing wall before the buildings were added can be seen.

The granary is one of the driest rooms in the Castle. Originally it was the governor’s granary. It was later used as a gunpowder magazine, because the previous gunpowder store had become too damp.

Today the room houses an archaeological museum. On display is, among others, one of the two lions which were originally seen on the pillars at the entrance to the Castle. Initially it was thought that they were the work of the German sculptor Anton Anreith. When layers of whitewash had been removed, however, it was found that they were made from baked clay and of Eastern origin, probably dating back to the 13/1400’s.

An example of the archaeological excavations done during the restoration of the Castle found here (the tourist guide will point out the excavation).

Today the Castle stands not only as a bastion of our colonial past but as a beacon of our unsure but bright future.   More and more South Africans (and foreigners) are embracing and accepting this citadel as part of their collective heritage and history.  Through events, festivals, celebrations, commemorations, concerts, workshops and exhibitions, the Castle of Good Hope is positioning itself for survival over the next 350 years…